Long story short, Robin and Will urged Emma on about something and because she was still pretty drunk, and in her defence, she wasn't thinking straight - explains the definition of her still being blurry on some scenes. Then, Will nearly got into a fight and since they didn't need to get into any trouble, Robin decided to take him back to his room at Granny's. Bugger excuse if he thinks about it, Killian is going to get back at them one day because messing with Killian Jones is never a good idea. And then gods, Emma, having to continue to act like this is going to make him seem like a complete mess now.
So yes, maybe he does have some underlying feelings, a bit of attraction beneath a couple of layers, but it's nothing more than that. The kiss did prove something - one hell of a kisser for one, and two, something he's yet to put a pin on. Fucking emotions.
"We need to last until Monday," she grumbles, shifting around on the station couch, trying to find her right position.
He just watches her from his desk, signing some random sheets about witness reports and whatnot. "Swan, it mustn't be that difficult to deal with me," he quips, placing his pen back in the pencil holder. Within the least three hours of their encounter with Robin and Will up at Granny's, she's been a little bit tense, and he's noticed it. Best not to bring the kiss up then apparently. "Unless you find me far too aggravating to be around - I tend to do that to you somehow."
"Oh you know exactly how you get me riled up, so don't go around acting as innocent as a lost puppy on the street, jerk," she mutters quite angrily, closing her eyes. "Besides, if Robin and Regina are at it - if she's happy with all this sudden affection - she's going to be nice to me, and you know having a nice Regina is the rarest thing ever. And I don't take kindness from Regina often, hence why I send David to do all the talking with her."
It's always a little rivalry and distaste between the two women, he's always known that for sure ever since he arrived in Storybrooke. "Well, you can't sue him for making her happy, can you?"
"No, but I want to sue you for bringing them here."
"I didn't bring them here, they came here willingly themselves to snoop around my personal life."
She still laughs at that. "Exactly. So if you weren't here, they would have never came here!"
He chuckles, stuffing the files into the folders, then into the metal drawers. "Suck it up, love. If you can tolerate me, you can tolerate the others too," he says, "they aren't that bad."
"You were the one complaining about them before, and now you're the one telling me they're not that bad too. I want to say you're being a hypocrite, but then that makes me a hypocrite because I was actually trying to be nice and warm up to them too." She lets out a frustrated sigh, finally propping herself on the couch comfortably. "You bring disasters everywhere."
"Am I a disaster to you, Swan?" It's time to bring out even more anger in her, because he's never had enough of her frustration before. It's simply entertaining and amusing, especially since he's working - it helps pass the time. "I don't recall the fact that your life is falling apart because we're so much of a disaster in your eyes," he claims, knowing he's right. "In most cases, I think I've brought more light into your so-called disastrous life! In a more annoying way of course, though you're the only one who's ever complained about me being annoying. Most people consider me charming."
She curses something he doesn't hear, but then mutters, "Shut up."
"Ah, so I'm correct, am I not? Swan, the first step to admitting the truth is denying it." He purposely pops the 't' at the end, just to get his point across.
"How do you do it?"
He glances up from the paper on his desk and narrows his eyes at her, shaking his head gently, having no bloody clue about what she's asking or talking about. "How do I do what?"
"The entire… reading me thing," she answers softly, tilting her head to the side - which he can admit it's somewhat adorable. And he's never used that term. What the hell?
The sudden understanding dawns on him and his eyelids slide closed as he sighs. "You're somewhat of an open book, darling," he tells her, "not that difficult for me to read you. But, there are some things that I will never be able to discover or understand about you because you tend to close off on certain subjects, if I'm not mistaken of course."
Walls are being put up again, slowly but surely it's happening. He can see it, feel it, and it aches him where he wants to reach out and assure her that whatever she's gone through, he'll always still be a good friend to her, a lasting figure in her life. The way she dies down into the silence, tries to blend in as if nothing's happened, be a small part of life. It's never really occurred to him how she manages to do this so quickly, but he figures it's a whim, a very habitual whim of course. He sighs and scratches behind his ear, leaning back in his chair.
"You know how David said I didn't have such a good childhood?" she quietly asks, looking down at her lap.
"Aye." A wondrous and adventurous time today. "Look, Swan, you don't have to tell me anything."
"I know, but I feel like it's time. I've been running for so long, just away from everything I've ever felt or experienced in the past, the pain and loss, the abandonment and struggles. I feel like, maybe, just maybe if I can trust you with this information, finally tell someone besides David, then the weight of the world on my shoulders can just be lifted." She shrugs, falling back slightly on the couch. "I just don't know where to begin."
First instinct of his is to get up, so that's exactly what he does. He's absolutely willing to hear all of her story, just to know her. Pissing her off is one thing, but he's vowed to keep her safe - meaning he'll need to know about all of her. Not just that tiny bits and pieces he manages to pick up at some point during the day on a busy week, or when they drink coffee and keep conversations casual in the morning. Crossing the space between them, he stands in front of her. "Mind if I sit down?" She shakes her head, and he drops down next to her, feeling the dip of the couch.
"I told you one part of my life, well a little bit."
"Graham? The man who had died of a heart attack and was Sheriff before you and Dave?"
She nods. "Yeah. But there's more to that story. I only told you the vague details… and there's so much more before that - god it hurts to even think about it."
He smiles and takes her hand, interlacing their fingers. Might be more intimate than he's intended, but he wants her to know he's okay with everything that she's about to tell him - about to trust him with. "Take your time, love. I've got all the time in the world." Conjuring up another statement, it's in the hope of lightening the mood. "That is unless the world explodes and we all perish off Earth."
Emma laughs, a small smile dancing upon her lips. That's Emma Swan there, he reminds himself.
And so she begins talking about her story, from step one. They decide it'll take some time, and they're lucky as hell David doesn't seem to want to drop by the station during this entire time. "Well, I guess first thing's first. I'm an orphan, and I think you've already got that much figured out; we're similar there." She sighs. "Abandoned, technically. No trace of who my parents are, and sometimes I really do wonder just why they had to leave me like that. But that's not even the worst of all. Naturally, I was put in the foster system, which meant families adopting kids - I was naïve back then, thought everything would be fine, that I'd find a family who would love me.
"That belief got thrown out the window after a month of hope being shattered and broken. I was adopted by plenty of families, but I was never cared for. Either used for the money, abused, ignored, everything a little girl would have despised and hated growing up. It wasn't until grade seven or something where David's mom took me in, so I've got much to owe him when it comes to being family and friends. So technically you can say he's my step-brother. And besides that, he was my only friend. Anyways, it wasn't until high school was when he started dating Mary Margaret, and where I met Ruby.
"You can probably imagine me lost and closed off. I secluded myself from most people, stayed away from going out, always in my room or with David and Mary Margaret. But as much as David's mom was lovely, I never felt fully loved. It was just a missing piece of my heart. And then, by the end of school, I was dating a guy called Walsh. He was smart, perceived to be caring and kind, but it was all fake. I was finally opening up, you know? But then, everything went downhill when I was nineteen. He cheated on me with some school asshole called Zelena, broke me, broke all the trust I held in him. It hurt - like, a fucking lot. After about a year, I started moving on, but I definitely didn't like trusting anyone again besides Ruby, David and Mary Margaret.
"What sucks was that when I was finally considering loving someone again, or just someone I care about, it was all gone in an instant again. When David asked me to go for deputy back then, I was more than ecstatic about the job. Graham was a great guy - funny, humble, hardworking. And before I knew it, I started to like him more than a friend - like a crush. You know how the story goes from there though. He died of a heart attack, just like that, gone, another person I liked and cared for just vanishing from my life again. And… and he…"
She's sniffling and shaking her head, and before he knows it, she's starting to cry. Bloody hell. He adjusts his body so he can take her in for a hug, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other trying to rub her back gently, to soothe her. "Swan," he murmurs into her hair. Her tears are staining his t-shirt, but damn he doesn't care. "Just let it out, love."
Her sobs are broken, each time she sniffs, it sounds like there's something lodged in her nose. Her breathing is broken too, ragged and short, struggling to catch her breath. His heart seems to crack a little every time. So many things have happened to her, and now that he knows, he understands the reasoning behind her tough composure, the way she sets up her own bravado, standing behind some silhouette of her own self sometimes. The shadows lurk around, and just explaining her past has left a little gap to allow the light in. He knows. It's been the same for him and Milah, or where his father had left him, when his mother had died.
Her shoulders are still hunched a little bit, the way she's breaking down completely, letting him see her in this state. She's a tough lass, he reminds himself, smiling a little bit at the thought. But she eventually stops, and god he's so worried about her, how much pain she's been keeping in, how many secrets are stored away in that mind of hers, how much she struggles to deal with each day.
"Feeling better?" he asks, his voice gentle and quiet, pulling away to wipe the lingering tears on her cheeks.
"Yeah. A lot actually," she admits, blinking a couple of times. "Thank you… and I need to finish the story." She swallows. "The funny thing was that he was healthy, always healthy. He was athletic, he knew how to put up a fight and everything - he did his job quite well protecting the streets of Storybrooke from petty little residential thieves and all. I'll never really understand how it happened, but it did, and I can't change any of that anyways."
It hurts so much for her, but he's understanding and knowing her now. He keeps his arm around her, letting her head rest gently on his shoulder. "Thank you for sharing… all of that with me, Emma. I'm honoured to know that you trust me with your past," he humbly thanks, his hand tightening on her shoulder. "I suppose that's enough sharing for one day, unless you have something more to enlighten me with?"
"Enlighten?"
"Don't get me wrong, but I'm glad about what you've been through. The heartbreak, the struggles. All of it, Swan."
It's confusion that grows on her face. "What… why?"
"Don't you know, Emma? It's created who you are today - the bloody infuriating, brave, stubborn woman you are. And to be honest, besides Robin, Will, Victor - who is the one and only doctor we know - and David… you've been a big part of my life. Procuring myself this job wasn't as difficult as I had originally imagined of course, all I needed was a bit of charm and stroking my own ego of-"
"You thought your charm would get you the job?" She starts laughing, and it turns uncontrollable the second she starts. Soon enough, she's trying to catch her breath, rubbing her eyes. "I needed a laugh there, please continue on."
"There's nothing more to say, love. Just a thank you and that I promise I shall always remain by your side. How does that sound?"
"Sounds promising."
He pinches the bridge of his nose at the way she uses promising. Damn her and her witty comments. "Is this a time to have a play on words?"
"No - I'm serious. You're a good guy, Killian. Thanks for being such a great friend."
He smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple. "My pleasure, Swan. Now, moving on from these rather dark subjects, what do you say we do our patrol around town?"
"Bloody hell, where am I?" he grumbles, cracking his eyes open.
"Holy shit… you're finally awake."
The voice is familiar, but his sense of hearing is still buzzing and ringing, hearing beeping and the sound of something muffled. But, the familiar blonde hair falls in front of his vision, even if everything is still a bit blurry and trying to gain focus. He groans. He starts to feel the random crap stuck onto him.
Ah, so he's in the hospital. Putting the pieces together is not that difficult.
"Sorry, darling. Never knew I'd scare you that much," he rasps out, squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them again. "I'm afraid I don't remember much of what happened."
"You were on patrol by that bar and got hit by something apparently - no one has details, no witnesses either. Head damage though, nothing too severe that you couldn't handle. We were worried you weren't going to wake, Jones; it's been two days." She yawns. "Jesus, it's so late. Why couldn't you have picked a better time to wake up?"
"Sorry, Swan. Go home and sleep, no need to be here on my account."
She shakes her head stubbornly, heading toward the door. "Not likely. I'm getting Whale so he can check up on your vitals and all."
He groans as a complaint, but that doesn't stop her from leaving the room and returning with his old college buddy Victor Whale. He's the only other one that came with him to Storybrooke, since Robin and Will remained back in Boston instead. Victor glared at him and shook his head with a smug smirk, going to the machines and checking whatever the hell it is.
"He's fine. A full recovery is already on its way, just a couple of bruises on his head from some blunt trauma, everything else about him is healthy," Victor explains. "He can go home by tomorrow afternoon, I'll just need to keep him for the remainder of the night to make sure everything is completely stable." He turns back to Killian. "Robin and Will would totally be laughing at you if they were here, dude. You're a deputy, and you got hit by some… I don't know, drunk guy."
"Bloody git," he murmurs, "spare me the details of my humiliating blackout, please."
The both of them laugh at him, and he just shakes his head wearily, letting his eyes droop again. He needs some sleep, he'll just wake up in the morning again, and then when he's tested with a positive response and all that other shit, he just go back to the apartment, take a shower (he does smell like hospital, whatever that is) and get back to work. Work is the only thing that'll keep his mind off of whatever had happened, nor does he need reminders of how he ended up in the hospital, or how Emma has stayed with him for awhile.
"Don't worry, he's gonna need all the sleep he can get so he doesn't feel like he had a massive hangover the following day."
"Jones and a massive hangover?" She scoffs. "I've dealt with worse."
It's all muffled voices, but he hears it clearly enough though, and he wants to laugh, but he needs sleep.
Really badly. The fatigue is calling for him.
He drops her off at her apartment, watching her disappear through the lobby. The painful thing is that he sits there in the car for a couple of minutes before he actually starts the car and heads off again. Just the spur of a moment 'let me reminisce about what has happened today.'
Except when he gets back to the apartment and tries to fall asleep, hah, well that doesn't work - hence the word tries. Without a second thought, he swings his jacket over his shoulders and slips his arms through it, changes back to a pair of jeans and grabs his keys and heads out the apartment. The vast dark sky covering over the world is just above him the entire time he strolls down the street, his feet bringing him toward the docks of Storybrooke.
There are covered boats for the season, like the one he had been lended to use for their practice date. He yawns, leaning over on the railing, his elbows resting comfortably against the metallic structures. Leaves rustled as the calm breeze blows past him. He listens to the sounds of nature surrounding him, the water hitting the wooden pier, the sound of the wind merely passing by. And through this, he can't help but think because what else is he supposed to do when he looks like a lonely man by the docks in the middle of the night doing nothing but being idle?
The moonlight casts a dim light over the town, noticing it immediately when he sighs and looks up, paying attention to the stars that litter the entire night sky. He falls back to remembering their date, the way he taught her some constellations, made relations with Cygnus, showed her the world from a completely different perspective than usually being on land.
"Killian?"
He jerks up in attention, standing up straight and turning around to see her pointing a gun at him.
"Swan."
"Someone reported a dark figure by the docks, I did not expect you to be here," she explains, tucking her gun away into the back pocket. "Now that I think about it, what are you doing here at two in the morning?"
He hums, the sound growing from the back of his throat. He shakes his head and shrugs casually, turning back to the sea and leans against the metal railing. "The same as usual, lass," he tells her vaguely, his hands running over his face in a hopeless manner. "Apologies if I was far too conspicuous, you can go back to the comfort of your apartment now that you've confirmed the dark figure is indeed your co-worker."
"I can't do that," she says, and her voice is louder than before, her footsteps are growing in volume. Soon enough, she's standing next to him, looking out into the distance. Everything is so dark, he can't make out much. "Why aren't you able to sleep all of a sudden? You could before."
"If I had an answer…" he fades off , closing his eyes and clenching his jaw. "I'd answer. But unfortunately I've fallen on the null side of things and do not have much to supply as a reason," he continues. "Go home, Swan."
She scoffs. "Home." Her tone of voice is acrimonious, as if she's completely disputing against the idea of a home. "What is a home?" she asks aloud, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "I wouldn't know, Jones, so don't tell me to go home. I don't have one."
"News flash, darling, I don't either - perhaps the label of a hypocrite applies to me now." He shifts his body so one elbow rests on the metal as the remainder of his body is facing her. "We have a lot in common, don't we? Being orphans. Knowing lost and abandonment. Our own bitter pasts… Well, the list goes on for much longer, but I'm not going to spend that much time with it."
"I guess." She yawns and rubs her eyes. "I need sleep, and you do too."
"That's something we can both agree on," he mutters, shutting his eyes. "I think I've been calmed. I'll walk you back? I pass your apartment anyways."
"Sure."
