Thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites and follows. It makes me very happy that so many of you seem to like the story.
I hope you enjoy a certain roof scene in this chapter. I had that scene in my head right from the start. :-)
Chapter 7
She was sitting in her car, staring at the gray wall in front of her. She dreaded these days, the days she went to the cemetery, the days she felt the need to be there.
She thought of her son every day. He was the first thought when she woke up, he was the last thought before she fell asleep. But visiting his grave … it always devastated her, made her feel raw, increased the pressure on her heart and soul. Those days were the days she struggled the most. The days she asked herself if it wouldn't be easier to just let go, to just end it all. But she never could muster up the courage to actually end her own life.
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her lips thinning as she pressed them together, and she forced herself to take in some calming breaths. She suddenly heard Graham's voice in her head, telling her to not give up, telling her that there was always a reason to live, and a tear rolled down her cheek, her lips trembling as she remembered all the times her best friend had been by her side, keeping her upright.
A sound half sob, half chuckle escaped her as she imagined what he would say to her now. He had been always able to read her, and he would have seen the pull she felt towards Killian right from the start. She could almost hear his voice whispering 'I told you so' in her ear, a goofy grin on his face. He would have teased her mercilessly about the other man, would have told her to give it a chance, to give them a chance.
Graham would have seen how their relationship had changed over the last few weeks. How Killian became more than a man she found insanely attractive, more than her subordinate. He became a friend. A person she wanted to share her past with. A person she felt drawn to, and definitely not only sexually.
She remembered the conversation they'd had a week ago, when her eyes had fallen on the necklace slipping out from under his shirt. She'd recognized it from the photos in Gold's file, the photos Killian had also been in, his attire a far cry away from the clothes he was wearing now; his shirt open to an obscenely degree, the necklace hanging around his neck, glinting in the sunlight.
She'd asked him about it, saw his features closing up for a brief moment before he relaxed, telling her it was a reminder. A reminder to not forget, a reminder that Gold had to pay for what he did.
It hadn't been the first time she'd wondered if he had really loved the woman Gold killed, or if most of it had been only a front he'd put on, and his thirst of revenge was stemming from the huge guilt he must be feeling.
But of course she hadn't asked, felt as if it was not her place. But her fingers had twitched when his gaze had fallen on the file in front of him, his hand balled into a fist beside it. She'd wanted to touch him, wanted to soothe his sorrow, and it was that moment that she realized that she should probably consider to stop having these meetings with him. She was getting too close. Maybe it was time to step back.
But she hadn't put a stop to it. She couldn't. And when she stepped out of the car and walked to the entrance of the cemetery she wished Killian could be by her side right now, wished he could hold her hand, wished he could help her get through the day.
But of course he couldn't.
-/-
He never visited Liam's grave on the day he'd died. He just didn't believe he could visit it on this particular date without breaking down. So he visited him always a few weeks earlier. On the date when his brother and he had been happy the last time, before the diagnose shattered their lives.
His mouth curled up into a shaky smile when he remembered that day, let himself remember the fun they'd had back then. They'd gone to the race track. Something they hadn't done often. Maybe three to four times a year. But it'd always reduced them to little boys when they'd stepped into the go-carts.
His heart grew heavy as he remembered their laughs that day, remembered the joy on Liam's face when he'd crashed into his go-cart, and bumped Killian into the edge of the track. He could even still hear Liam's laughter in his ears.
His eyes were burning with unshed tears as he looked at the gray wall surrounding the cemetery, not knowing if he was able to go inside. His hands were trembling, and he balled them into fists atop his thighs.
Some days the pain was just too much, weighing on his heart, drowning it in sorrow, making him wonder what was the point of living anymore.
"God, brother. I wish you'd still be here." His voice broke on the last word, a tear slipping down his cheek.
He startled when he suddenly heard his brother's voice in his head as clear as if he was sitting right beside him.
You're not alone, little brother. You never were.
A chortle slipped over his lips, a cold shiver running down his spine. "You're going insane, Jones," he mumbled, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose, trying to shake the eerie feeling of his brother's presence.
You should make a move on the Swan lady, little brother. Would be good for you.
He let out a loud curse, reaching for the door handle and practically jumping out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.
He leaned back against the car, rubbing his hands over his face. He didn't believe in ghosts. It'd probably been his subconscious trying to help him get through the pain, though he had to admit, Emma was constantly on his mind, and not only in a sexual manner anymore.
The nights they'd spent together did change their relationship, especially since the day she'd opened up to him – when he'd asked her if she could tell him about Henry. She'd only hesitated a brief moment before she'd gotten that far away look in her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she'd told him stories about her son.
When he'd asked her about Henry he hadn't thought it through, hadn't thought about what talking about her son would do to her. He just wanted to know. But when she got eerily quiet after finishing a particular funny story, he'd looked at her and had seen the furrow between her brows, the trembling of her lips as she'd tried to keep her composure.
He'd almost jumped up and pulled her into his arms, the apology had already hovered on his tongue, but she'd shaken herself out of it at that moment, and had told him with a firm voice that they should go home for the night.
He hadn't argued, but something had changed that night, and he still wasn't sure if the change was good or bad. Huffing out an annoyed breath over the way his thoughts had taken, he pushed himself away from the car and walked towards the entrance of the cemetery, but he only took a few steps before he turned around on his heels again and walked back to his car.
He couldn't go in there today. He just couldn't.
-/-
"Where is the boss?" Killian asked, frowning when he looked over to her office and didn't see her.
The Monday morning meeting was supposed to start in three minutes, and since he'd started here she'd never even come one second too late to these meetings.
"Roof," Robin said without further explanation, hacking into his keyboard.
"Aehm, don't we have a meeting in two minutes?" Killian asked, completely confused now, his eyes wandering to the window. The rain was splashing against the glass, and he wondered why the hell she decided to go up on the roof when it was pouring buckets.
"Damn, you don't know." Killian's head jerked back to Robin, the expression on Robin's face feeling like a fist just slammed into his stomach. Whatever he didn't know, it was bad.
"Don't know what?"
"There won't be a meeting today," Robin replied, his mouth thinning as he added softly, "Five years ago on this day Henry disappeared."
"Shit," Killian was out of the door and rushing up the stairs before he even realized what he was doing.
The door crashed against the wall as he sprinted on the roof, not even noticing that the rain was drenching him in seconds, his eyes searching the roof frantically.
She was standing at the parapet, her hands pressed against the concrete. She didn't move, ignoring the rain completely, her posture rigid, her head hanging down, her eyes closed.
He walked slowly towards her, contemplating how to make her aware of his presence without startling her. But somehow she sensed him, turning her head when he was only a feet away. Her eyes were bright red, screaming with pain and his heart clenched in his chest.
"God, Emma," he breathed, lifting his arms. He wanted to hug her, but didn't know if she wanted him to, so he stopped with his fingers inches away from her arms.
She stepped into his embrace a moment later, without hesitation, her body pressing hard against his, and he tightened his arms around her, wishing he could take the pain away from her, but knowing it wasn't possible, and his heart was breaking when she suddenly shoved him away as if he didn't want him to see how vulnerable she was right now. But before he could say anything, before he could assure her he would never take advantage of it, would never hurt her, her hands closed around the lapels of his shirt and she yanked him down, her lips clashing against his.
The kiss turned hungry instantly, her tongue darting into his mouth the moment he opened his lips, and they stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall, his fingers digging into the nape of her neck as he tilted her head to be able to kiss her more thoroughly.
God, he was burning. Their kiss turning him into a throbbing mess of raging lust, her hips rocking against his, making him groan into her mouth as her core rubbed against his rock hard erection.
And then she was suddenly gone, leaving him breathless and completely dazzled. His heart was pounding in his chest, his body screaming for her touch. But she was standing a few feet away from him, looking at him with an aghast expression on her face.
"I ..." She paused, gulping hard. The rain was drumming on their heads, but they couldn't move, staring at each other for seconds before Emma averted her gaze to the ground, and shook her head, her voice barely audible over the rain. "I don't know … I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened. I'm sorry."
She turned around and fled from the roof, leaving him rooted to the spot, still trying to catch his breath as he stared at the door she'd just disappeared behind.
He wanted to follow her, wanted to kiss her until they both couldn't breathe anymore, wanted to feel her legs wrap around him, wanted to bury himself inside of her, wanted to make them both forget the world around them. He wanted to lie beside her afterwards, wanted to envelop her in his arms and breathe her in. He wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms, wanted to wake up to her hair tickling his chest. He wanted to give them a chance, wanted to see if they could make it work. He wanted her so much, his body and soul needed her with a desperation that made every fiber of his body ache.
But he didn't follow her.
Because the last time he let his heart dictate the course of his actions it had ended in a catastrophe, and he didn't think he would be able to survive it if he let himself fall, and would lose her too.