AN: THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER!
I hope you like. Some parts of this took ages to get out, but I think it's really what I wanted it to be. Enjoy!
Chapter Nine
Shrugging out of his coat, Killian threw it over the end of his bed then hesitated before removing his vest as well, leaving his loose shirt on. His plan was to get so drunk that he couldn't remember his own name, and he certainly wouldn't remember to remove the constrictive garments before he passed out if he didn't do it now. Stripping off his boots as well, he retrieved the second to last bottle of rum from his private store at the back of his wardrobe, then made his way over to his desk. Rolling up the maps of this part of the Enchanted Forests' coastline - which he'd drew himself - he tucked them safely away before sitting down. Leaning back, he brought his feet up to rest on top of the desk, his legs crossed at his ankles, flexing his toes with a sigh as he let the cold air sooth his sore feet.
How the hell had he gotten himself into this mess? He'd closed himself off for so long and for good reason, he thought bitterly. Since Milah had died, he'd given no thought to women, except as a brief escape or as a tool to be used. Three hundred years had given him plenty of time to hone his sexuality into a weapon. Sometimes he'd enjoyed the chase and the deceit, but most of the time he'd felt nothing but disdain for the women who'd thrown themselves at him.
And that was the start of the problem, wasn't it? She hadn't thrown herself at him - had thoroughly rebuffed every advance - and he hadn't been lying when he'd told her that he loved a challenge, especially after so long of having the wrong women fall into his lap. He'd been so intrigued by her from the start.
But he hadn't realized that he was in love with her until it was too late.
He hadn't been searching for love - there was no room for such things in a quest for revenge. When had his priorities changed so drastically?
Why was he yearning so damned much for a chance to have what he'd never truly had?
A family.
Rubbing his hand over his face roughly, Killian leaned forward and grabbed the bottle, thumbing the cork off and gulping down several mouthfuls of his best drink. Sitting back, he tried to push those thoughts away, but Baelfire's words - his forgiveness - was almost too much for him.
He'd never thought that he'd need any more family than his crew, and for a long time they'd been enough. And unbelievably, when Milah had talked him into taking her away she'd fit in just like she'd always been with them. He'd never considered the idea of having more than that until he'd met Baelfire, and after he'd lost them both, he didn't think he'd have the chance of that again.
He certainly hadn't been searching for love but he'd found it again, and it was different with Emma. He didn't just want her to be a part of his life: he wanted to be a part of hers. He wanted not just her but her family. He wanted a family with her.
But it was too late. Love was great while it lasted, but in the end all it did was leave you torn and empty. Broken.
And so god... damned... bitter.
After taking another mouthful of rum, he shook the bottle gently to see how much he had left. It wasn't affecting him as quickly as he'd like, even though he hadn't eaten anything since David had brought him something just after noon. He should have sought out something to eat before he'd retired to his quarters, but he'd get drunker more quickly this way.
Supposedly, anyway, he thought, eyeing the bottle before taking another swig.
As he drank he heard the sound of his door opening and he lowered the bottle quickly, surprised that he hadn't heard any approaching footsteps. His mind went blank in an instant, however, when Emma slipped into the room. She looked at him then away, closing the door quietly behind her.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her cheeks were red and her hair tousled from the wind, and he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it. Tightening his grip on the bottle instead, he set it down on the table, using a surprising amount of effort to keep his movements steady. He swallowed before speaking to make sure his voice wouldn't come out a croak, but it only worked so well. 'Most people knock to announce their presence before barging into other people's rooms,' he told her, his sour tone in contrast to his teasing words.
She flinched visibly, and he had a feeling that it was the tone and not the words themselves that she payed attention to. 'Would you have let me in if you knew it was me?' she asked quietly, still starting at her feet.
Yes, no, never, always. Not knowing his own mind - or rather, not wanting to - he stayed quiet, wracking his brain to figure out what the hell she was doing here. 'What do you want, Swan?' he asked eventually, unable to take the strained silence any longer.
Emma finally looked up at him and he immediately wished she hadn't - her eyes looked about as haunted as he felt. After a few more moments of silence she swallowed hard and walked towards him.
Oh gods, he's so screwed.
But instead of coming directly to him, she stopped on the other side of the desk and grabbed his rum, throwing her head back to take a long drink. Feeling unsettled, he stepped into the persona in which he felt the safest. 'Ah, I see,' he said, layering his voice with sarcastic cheerfulness. 'You're here to drink all of my rum and have your use of me one last time before you go back to the real world.' He rolled his eyes to punctuate his last words, filling them with scorn.
Emma slammed the bottle down on the desk between them, turning and taking a few steps away from him. He relaxed slightly as the distance increased between them. 'I'm not going to drink all of your rum,' she said dryly, sounding offended.
He raised his eyebrows at the back of her head. 'But you are going to use me?'
Spinning around, she stared at him incredulously. 'Is that really what you think I'm doing?'
That's what you think I'm doing? Using you?
The hurt on her face was almost enough to make him back down, but it also stirred his own pain. 'Well your actions are speaking quite loudly from my point of view,' he said, taking his rum back and casually taking a drink. 'Forgive me if that's all I have to go on, love.'
The silence stretched out between them, and the hurt faded into resignation. 'I fucked up.'
Well he certainly wasn't going to comment on that. At least she was straight to the point. 'You should go, Emma,' he said quietly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. Lowering his feet to the ground, he ran his fingers through his hair and looked away from her.
'But -'
'That wasn't a request,' he growled. He pushed himself to his feet and stepped around his desk, heading toward the door.
'Killian, I need to -'
'No you don't!' He'd been about to open his cabin door to force her out but instead he spun around, stepping up close to her and staring her down in an attempt to intimidate her. Something that felt an awful lot like panic was starting to build in his chest, and he needed her to get away before he gave into that. 'You don't need to do anything, Emma, you just need to leave! Can't you just -'
'I know you're in love with me,' she said quickly, and whatever he'd been about to say fled his mind completely as she closed what little distance he'd left between them and pressed a palm against his chest. Against his heart.
Was she forcing his own tricks against him, or was she genuine in her actions? She was so close to him, all he had to do was bend his head slightly and his lips would brush against hers. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her right then, and he hated himself for it. Lifting his hand, he closed it over hers, then used that grip to spin her quickly around so that her back was pressed tightly against him. His hand still gripped hers and he used both of their arms to keep her firmly against him as his hook ran lightly across her neck, pulling her hair back to bare the skin of her shoulder.
'That never occurred to you?' he whispered darkly in her ear, feeling her shiver as his lips brushed against her skin. He let himself enjoy for a moment just how good she felt, held against him like this, before he pushed her away roughly, pretending not to pay attention as she grabbed onto his chest of draws to steady herself. He walked swiftly back to his desk and his saviour in a bottle. 'Well it didn't occur to me either until I saw you lifeless on the deck of my ship,' he told her, still trying to force some sarcasm or mockery into his words but probably failing miserably, the image of her in such a state still scaring the breath out of him. Leaning against the edge of his desk, he considered his rum for a few seconds before lifting it to his lips and drinking until it was empty, ignoring the burn in his throat.
When he let the bottle drop onto the desk with a dull thump, he looked up to see her staring at him. 'God, Killian, I'm so sorry,' she said softly, her voice strained.
His throat tightened. More rum. His head was starting to swim a little, so maybe he was imagining the sadness on her face. 'Don't be,' he said roughly, retrieving his last bottle. He stayed with his back to her, propping his elbow against the wood, closing his eyes and rubbing his hand over them. 'Just leave, Emma,' he said tiredly. 'You'll be rid of me for good tomorrow.' Couldn't she see that he just couldn't take it anymore?
He didn't hear her leaving. He was about to turn around and yell at her, do something, to make her leave him in peace, but she spoke first. 'I broke up with Neal.'
Sighing, he turned to face her. She was looking at him expectantly, her hands clasped in front of her. Shrugging, he went back to lean on his desk again, crossing his feet in front of him. 'I'm afraid I don't know what that means, love.'
She frowned for a moment before her eyes widened slightly in understanding. 'Oh, right. We're, um... not together anymore.' She looked down at her hands, which were twisting together. 'I couldn't keep pretending that that was what I wanted.'
He knew that he should say something. That any self-respecting man would still demand that she leave, that he wanted nothing to do with her. But hope had started to grow in the stupid, deep part inside of him that was the cause of all of this mess in the first place.
'I didn't know what to do, Killian.' Finally she looked up at him. He couldn't tell what was going through her head, but she looked earnest... and afraid? 'I thought that if I could make things work with Neal then it would heal the part of me that he'd broken when he abandoned me. And Henry's been through so much since he met me, and I thought that if I could give him something stable then maybe he'd forgive me for leaving him...'
Twin tears spilled down her cheeks when she blinked. Killian looked away, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try and steady himself. All he wanted was to close the few steps between them, to take her in his arms and wipe her tears away. He'd never underestimated the lengths she'd go to for her son, but he'd thought that she'd forgotten about Pan's words when they'd gotten Henry back and the lad had been ecstatic to be back with his family.
There wasn't enough rum in the world for this.
Taking another long drink anyway to prepare himself - the fuzziness that he'd started to feel earlier had completely vanished again - he made himself look back up at her. She was still watching him. He'd expected her to wipe her face and thoroughly deny any idea of tears, but instead she was still, streaks still clear on her cheeks. He couldn't deny her pain, but it still wasn't adding up for him.
And, he reminded himself, just because she's saying she doesn't want Baelfire doesn't mean that she wants you.
He wanted to sound angry, he wanted to comfort her. When he spoke, his voice came out somewhere in between. 'After everything he's put you through, you still thought he was the safer option?'
She frowned at him uncertainly, biting her lip gently. 'If it wasn't for Henry... He has every reason to stay, now. And you have every reason to go.'
The rum almost slipped from his hand. When he ensured his firm grip on it, he had to resist the urge to throw it against the wall. That was what she thought? 'That's what this is about?' he asked her, anger spiking in him before he could stop it. Slamming the bottle on the table - he had enough sense of mind to know how much he'd regret it if he wasted it - he started to storm towards her, but held himself back before he reached her, not really trusting himself to be too close to her. 'You think that I'll leave you because of Henry?'
She almost looked surprised, but smoothed her features quickly. Then she frowned. 'I know what kind of life you've lived. It's not the type to imply a desire for a child. I wouldn't ask you to be his father, but... Henry's used to people loving him. If we were together, you would have had to be in his life.'
If we were together. The words were like a dagger in his heart. He paced before her a few times, restless in his frustration, before he came to a stop in front of her. 'Baelfire never told you, did he? I almost took him in, when he was a lad.'
'Yeah, he told me,' she said, interrupting him before he could continue. 'He said that you found him in Neverland and sold him out to the lost boys!'
He suppressed a growl - barely. 'Is that what he told you? Did he tell you about how I hid him from the lost boys when they first came for him? I knew he was Milah's son. I wanted to make good on Milah's wish that we be a family, I wanted to make a home for the lad. When he found out who I was, he wouldn't listen to anything I had to say.' He didn't want to be talking about Milah - not with her, not tonight. Taking a shuddering breath, he backed off, needing to either take her in his arms or put as much space between them as possible. The uncertainty on her face made him choose the later.
Picking up the rum, he'd almost brought it up to his lips before his eyes fell on her again, and he stopped. She was still looking at where he'd stood before her a few moments ago, that same hesitancy in her eyes. Slowly, he lowered the bottle. For some reason, the fact that she was off-kilter helped to steady him. Taking in a few deep breaths, he moved to stand in front of her again. If he reached out he could touch her. She didn't look at him, but she didn't move away, either.
He could feel his own conviction wavering. Holding his breath, he held his hand up to her face, wanting to cup her cheek but stopping just before his skin touched his. 'Why is it so hard for you to believe that I could love him, that I could want not only you but everything that comes with you as well?'
He saw and heard her breath catch in her throat, and her eyes came up to meet his, flickering between the two searchingly as if she was desperately hunting for any kind of deception. He held her gaze firmly, determined for her to see the truth in his words. Her lips parted as if she was about to speak but she just continued staring at him for what felt like minutes.
He was about to press his hand against her cheek when she moved backward slightly, and he sighed, dropping his hand.
'I wasn't actually talking about Henry,' she said quietly, looking away again. Walking past him, she took his spot at his desk, leaning against the edge just like he'd done not that long ago. Turning to face her, he crossed his arms and leaned back against his chest of draws, ignoring how the knobs pressed into his back in an attempt to look casual. He had no idea who had the upper hand anymore, or even what the likely outcome of this conversation was. At first he'd just wanted her gone, but now... He had no clue what he thought was going to happen, but he knew with every fibre of his being that he didn't want her to leave.
'What, then?'
'You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you? After we get back to Storybrooke?'
His thoughts raced as he tried to find a response. He supposed that where he was by tomorrow evening depended on where this conversation went, but he wasn't sure he wanted to put that knowledge into her hands. He didn't want her to be with him because she pitied him, but if her hesitation was because she didn't think he'd stay with her, he needed to make his opinion clear...
Once again, she spoke before he could straighten his thoughts, and her sad smile seemed to say that she thought his silence was his answer. 'Maybe if we were staying in the Enchanted Forest, things could be different, but I'm not strong enough for that, not yet. I couldn't ask you to live in my world, Killian.' She sounded tired... defeated. 'It's not for you. Everything you are... a pirate...'
'A man,' he interjected, taking a step toward her.
She just looked at him for a few seconds. 'What would you possibly do with yourself in my world, Killian?' she asked hopelessly, spreading her arms as if in defeat. 'I can't force you to give up who you are. You won't be able to be a pirate in Storybrooke. You'd be bored shitless!'
He came closer again. 'There's oceans there, yes?' he asked, knowing very well that there was.
She swallowed, her expression guarded. 'This is your home, Killian. Everything I know about you won't fit in Storybrooke.'
'Maybe I don't want to be who I am anymore! Maybe I just want you!' He realized that they were yelling and took a shaking breath, trying to calm himself. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, and suddenly he was over it, over everything. He stepped up to her, not stopping until he was so close to her that if they breathed out of sync their chests would touch. 'Home hasn't been any one place in particular for a very long time, love,' he told her quietly, watching her eyes carefully to see what effect he was having. Why did she have to choose now to be so hard to read? 'This ship is more home to me than any piece of land has ever been.'
'You can't live on your ship, Killian,' she said tiredly.
'I can if I needed to,' he told her, then leaned closer, rubbing his nose gently against her ear. He thrilled at the way her breath caught. 'I'd live in a dingy if it meant abiding in the same world as you.'
Emma pulled away enough to look at him, then her hands came up to grasp his shirt. She started to pull him towards her but his hand came over hers and held the distance between them. He saw the confusion in her eyes and didn't want to hurt her, but he did, damn it,he needed her to know just what she'd done to him. 'But none of that changes how you've treated me since Baelfire came back,' he said, hardening his voice.
He thought he saw her eyes start to glisten slightly as she bit her lip. 'I know,' she whispered, tightening her grip on his shirt into fists, but not trying to pull him closer again. Gods, she was so close. 'I'm so sorry.'
He didn't want to think about forgiveness. He wanted to forgive her then and there for anything she could have possibly done, ever, to anyone, but he knew that it was going to take a while for him to heal the broken part of him that had grown more ragged with every encounter since Baelfire resurfaced.
'I just want to go back to the beach,' Emma said softly, bringing him back to himself. She'd smoothed her hands out and pressed both of them gently against his chest, her fingers rubbing gently against his skin. Again, she wasn't looking at him, but rather watching her hands. 'I wish I'd had the chance to say what I'd wanted to say.'
Lowering his right hand to her waist, he used his hook to lift her chin so she had to meet his eyes. 'What did you want to say?' he asked her.
She shook her head slightly. 'It doesn't matter. I'd have something different to say now.'
'No,' he said, running the curved part of his hook over her cheek. She shivered, but didn't look afraid. 'Tell me what you would have said.' How different could our lives have been over the last few weeks?
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Emma closed her eyes and leaned her face into the touch of the cool metal on her cheek, moving one hand to wrap around his wrist to keep his arm where it was. 'I was telling you thank you, for helping me get my son back. I was going to tell you that not only did you help us find him, but that without you, I don't think I would have been able to hold myself together. You understood that I needed to focus on that first, and you were still waiting for me when I was ready. I was... I was ready to let you in.'
Killian's own breath felt laboured, his chest tight. He wanted to feel her, to touch her, so he switched his arms. Hooking his left arm around her waist, he stepped just slightly closer to her, pressing his body fully against hers as she leant up against his desk. His right hand cupped her cheek, his finger rubbing across her skin, before it moved to the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair like he'd wanted them to when she'd first entered his quarters. 'And what would you say now?' he murmured, his lips barely moving.
Emma looked up at him so openly that he almost felt his heart stop. Her hands slid up his chest to rest on either side of his neck, her thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. 'Killian, I love you.'
She pulled him in, pressing her lips to his quickly as if she was afraid he'd push her away. He felt frozen under her touch, stunned. All of his thoughts fled as she kissed him softly.
She started to pull away when he didn't respond, but her movement broke the crumbling wall inside of him that held back everything he'd been trying to hold at bay. Tightening his grip on her, he kissed her hungrily, swallowing her gasp as he pushed her harder against the desk. One of her hands twisted in his hair and the other wrapped around his neck, as if she was trying to keep him as close as possible.
He was willing to oblige that. Trailing his hand down her side, he wrapped his hand around her thigh and guided her up until she was sitting on the desk properly. She started to shuffle back onto it fully but he pulled her back to the edge, parting her legs and stepping in between them. His hand squeezed her thigh and then moved around to her lower back, pressing her against him. He could already feel his body responding, and he knew there was no way he was letting her leave again.
When he broke the kiss they were both gasping, but he didn't give her much respite, trailing his lips across her jaw. He kissed his way down her neck, thrilling in the taste of her skin. 'I'm not going to waste any more time with you, darling,' he warned her, pulling aside the top of her shirt and sucking at the tender skin where her neck and shoulder joined. A soft sound escaped her lips and she gripped onto him tighter.
'Good,' she said, her voice strained. He pulled back to look at her but she pulled him to her, her mouth covering his, her lips parting to give him access. Her hips were rocking forward against his, and he needed to feel her skin on his. Backing up enough to pull his shirt over his head, he threw it to the side and tugged hers up. Apparently as impatient as he was, Emma tried to help him with it, but their combined effort only caused the sound of ripping material to fill the room. He barely noticed in his hurry, but when she started to laugh he made himself pull back, glancing at her curiously. She grinned up at him from under her lashes, pulling the torn fabric from her shoulders. 'I don't have any other shirts of my own, you know,' she told him, trying to look serious.
Her banter eased a part of the hollowness inside of him, but he still needed more. Doing his best to rid her of her bra without tearing that too, he kept an arm wrapped around her and leaned into her, pressing her back down onto the desk. Reclaiming her lips, he moved against her lightly, marveling at how perfect she felt, their skin pressed together. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, before trailing down her neck again, but this time heading lower.
Capturing her nipple between his teeth, he flicked at its tip with his tongue, suppressing a grin as she moaned lowly and writhed beneath him. He wanted to give them more attention but his own need was becoming undeniable, and he wanted to savour other parts of her first. Kissing his way slowly down her stomach, he teased at the skin next to her hip bone as his fingers made short work of her jeans. He only struggled with the tight denim briefly before he managed to remove them from her, her underwear coming shortly afterward.
Without waiting for subtlety, Killian knelt before the desk, parting her legs and settling himself between them. Wrapping his left arm around her thigh to rest on her lower stomach, he spread her folds with the fingers of his right hand and pressed his mouth against her as hungrily as he'd kissed her just minutes ago. She cried out and tried to sit up, perhaps out of reflex, but his arm held her down as he licked at her, finding her sweet spot and sucking at it. She tried to move again, bucking her hips up this time, but he held her still, determined to have his way with her as he wanted.
Her body started trembling under his touch and her legs crossed over his shoulders, her fingers grasping at his hair to keep him in position. He growled against her as her fingers pulled at him, and she let out a groan, trying again to lift her hips. Her breathing had become erratic and he closed his eyes, focusing just on how her body was reacting to him. Needing to feel her come undone, he slipped two fingers inside of her, curling them to find that spot that she loved.
The sound of her crying his name when she gave in to her release was the greatest sound he'd ever heard.
Emma was still riding her high when Killian pulled her into a sitting position, still propped on the edge of the desk. She threw one arm around his neck, needing to hold onto him, while her other hand slipped between them to cup him through his trousers, rubbing her hand against him firmly. Groaning, he pressed himself into her grip and kissed her fiercely. She could taste herself on his tongue and it felt so damned erotic, she couldn't wait any longer to have him inside of her.
Her fingers fumbled hurriedly at the laces of his trousers. He seemed to have the same urgency that she felt - as soon as he was free he was pressing back between her thighs. His left arm wrapped around her back and his right hand grabbed at her hip, his fingers digging into her skin. Spreading her legs wider, she grabbed at his hips and pulled him into her, arching her back as their bodies joined.
Emma tore her lips away, gasping for breath as he buried himself deep within her with one slow thrust, stretching her wickedly. 'Oh, god,' she moaned, wrapping her arms around him to hold him as tightly as she could. Groaning loudly, his hand pulled her leg tighter around his waist and he rocked his hips against hers, keeping as little distance between them as possible. It still didn't feel like enough.
Grabbing onto his shoulders, she lay back onto the desk, pulling him with her so that he lay on top of her. He responded immediately, bracing himself on his left forearm, his head pushing hers aside to attach his lips to her neck. Kneading at her breast, he picked up his pace, thrusting into her faster, harder.
He was acting exactly how she felt - desperate, needy - and she wasn't surprised to feel the tension starting to build in her again. He pounded into her relentlessly, furiously, giving her no time to catch her breath or centre herself, and she was very quickly losing control. Unhooking her legs from around his hips, she put the bottoms of her feet against the top of the desk, using her new leverage to raise her hips to meet him with every thrust.
Killian's movements were starting to get more erratic with every moment. He shifted his angle slightly and was hitting that perfect spot, and she couldn't help the whimpers that left her with every thrust. Quickly losing herself, she grasped onto his arms, needing to hold onto something, her fingernails digging into his skin, but the feel of his tight biceps under her grip was hardly helping matters.
His body started trembling but his pace didn't relent, hot sounds coming from him with every breath, and after a few quick thrusts his whole body stiffened above her, a long moan escaping his lips as his cock pulsed inside of her. The feel of him hardening and coming inside of her sent her over the edge, pressing her hips up as he pressed his down, both of them trying to melt inside the other.
Eventually Emma's mind came back to her body. She was lying, boneless, on the hard desk, Killian's body sprawled across hers. Starting to get her breathing under control, she pressed her lips against his temple, then put a hand to either side of his face, lifting him off her enough to see him.
She wasn't prepared for the hesitancy that she saw in his eyes, and she was sure it made her heart stop for a moment. Then her mind caught up with reality and she could have slapped herself - her past self, anyway. What had she been thinking? How could this feeling have been anything but right?
Rubbing her thumb across his cheek, she smiled up at him, trying to put all of her feeling into her expression, hoping he'd believe her sincerity. 'I love you,' she told him firmly, needing him to believe it. 'Oh!'
He kissed her again with just as much hunger, his hand in her hair, and when he finally pulled away she couldn't help but grin up at him. He smiled back at her, the cautious look replaced by exactly what was tearing through her own heart. 'I love you, Emma,' he breathed. She'd accused him of it before, but something clicked inside her when he actually said it.
She felt like she lost something when he pulled out of her and stood up, but then he was helping her to her feet, holding onto her and guiding her across the cabin to his bed. Pulling back the covers with his hook, he gestured for her to slide in first and she did, letting a quick grin grab hold of her. Tonight could have gone so differently. She knew that there would be more to it, that she'd need to work hard to renew his trust in her, but she'd take that as it came.
Laying back on the pillows, Emma watched as he removed his trousers, which had still been hanging low on his hips, then sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. It took her a moment to realize what he was doing, but when she did she sat up slightly in surprise, propping herself up on her elbows.
He'd twisted off his hook and his fingers were running along the leather straps that ran up his arm and over his elbow and shoulder to hold the attachment in place, deftly undoing the clasps and slipping the leather off of him. Pulling the attachment off, he placed it carefully on the chest next to his bed and slipped under the covers, not quite looking at her.
She'd come here tonight to fix thing between them, but she was going to do better than that. This was as big a show of faith as he could give her, one that she hadn't been expecting, and she would be damned if she didn't worship every single part of him. Leaning forward, she pulled him toward her by the shoulder, settling them on the bed so they were facing each other on their sides. The light was dimmer on this side of the cabin, but she was glad that he hadn't extinguished the lantern - she wanted to see, and she wanted him to know that she could.
Running her hand slowly down his arm, she lifted it gently by the elbow so that it rested between them. Careful to take her time, she trailed her fingers lightly across the skin of his forearm, running them along the scars that would have been made from the rubbing leather before his skin got used to the burn. When she came closer to his wrist he started to pull away but her hand tightened around his arm, not letting him move.
He sighed quietly, and she looked up at him solemnly. He looked... sad. 'Emma...' he whispered, his voice pained.
She brought her other hand up to press her fingers against his lips, quietening him. After a moment she slipped her hand across to cup his cheek. 'I want every part of you.'
His eyes closed and he turned his head away, but she ignored the reluctance on his face. Loosening her grip, she kept her other hand on his face as she moved her fingers carefully across his skin, not stopping this time until she felt the uneven skin of his scar. She was aware that he probably didn't have the most feeling in that spot after all this time, but she made sure to be gentle as she cupped her hand over it, rubbing the palm of her hand against it softly.
He was too quiet, so she lifted her eyes to his again, swallowing hard when she realized that his shoulders were trembling slightly. Wrapping her hand around his stump and holding it against her chest, she shuffled closer to him and slid her other hand to rest at the back of his neck, flexing slightly in his soft hair. After a moment his right arm wrapped around her waist, his hand settling on her lower back.
'It's been a long time since I've wished to have my hand back for reasons other than the practical,' he told her quietly, his voice shaking slightly. 'I wish I could be whole for you.'
Emma sucked in her breath and both of her hands tightened involuntarily. Moving the hand gripping his arm, she pressed her hand against his heart instead of hers, holding his arm against his chest between them. 'You're whole where it counts. In here.'
He laughed bitterly. 'No, Emma, I'm not.'
And part of that was her fault. 'I'll fix it,' she said firmly. If it was the last thing she did...
He returned her look with one just as serious, and when he tried to pull his arm away she didn't stop him. But instead of turning away from her he brought his arm up and - slowly, as if not to scare her away - he caressed her cheek with the end of his wrist. He was holding his breath, staring at her as if terrified that she'd push him away in revulsion, but she met his gaze steadily, not even considering backing down. She'd take every part of him, and she was determined to let him know that. 'You're everything I need,' she whispered, and smiled softly when he let out his breath in a big whoosh, the tension starting to leave his body. Leaning forward, she kissed him, sighing in contentment when he responded immediately, their lips moving in sync as he rolled their bodies slightly so he was lying partially on top of her. 'Just you and me,' she murmured against his lips.
Killian pulled back enough that she could see his face. Every time she saw his smile, she felt like another part of the chasm between them was healing. 'And Henry,' he said, leaning on his elbow and twining a lock of her hair around his finger. After a moment his warm smile turned into a grin. 'And Snow and David. And Regina, I guess. Plus, from what I hear from your lad, half the town wants a claim to him.'
Emma returned his grin easily. The fact that he was so readily considering Henry made her feel guilty for ever doubting that he'd accept her son in his life. After a moment her smile faded as the other big part of Henry's life came to mind. 'And Neal,' she said slowly, wishing she could look away but needing to see his reaction. 'I wouldn't ask him to stay away from Henry if I could. Now that he's in his life, he'll be heartbroken if he left.' Now she did glance away, feeling embarrassed, but only for a moment. 'I may have... threatened him,' she told him hesitantly.
She didn't really know what she'd expected, but it wasn't for him to chuckle at her. 'I wouldn't expect anything different. And to be honest, I think things between myself and Baelfire might get easier. He told me tonight that he didn't blame me anymore for what happened to him.' Brushing her hair away from her face, he rested his forehead against hers. As bizarre as it was that the man that she loved felt responsible for the father of her child, she was willing to look past it all for the moment and just lose herself in the tentative happiness in Killian's eyes. 'Just... as long as you're mine, Emma. I don't want to be without you again.'
The second time they made love it was exactly that - passionate and gentle and love, so much love, nothing like they'd had together before. There was nothing standing in their way, and Emma had a feeling that as they healed the broken shards between them, their lonely, broken parts of themselves could be healed as well. They moved together as if they'd been made to do so, and her heat built in a long, slow burn until, holding Killian as tightly to her as she could with arms and legs, she fell over the edge, dragging him over with her. Killian moaned her name as they came, and continued to whisper it as he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and wrapping his arms around her.
They lay like that for a while, Emma's head on his shoulder, one hand trailing patterns on his chest, mixing with his dark hair, one leg lying between his. His arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers rubbing gently up and down her side, and the touch was slowly making her drift towards sleep. She couldn't see his face properly, but from his even breathing she figured he must be nearly there, too. She had no real idea of what time it was, but she knew it had to be pretty late, and they'd both have to be awake early to prepare for the journey home, after stopping by her parent's castle. Smiling at the thought of home, she closed her eyes.
'I really didn't want to let you go tomorrow.'
Killian spoke so softly that Emma wasn't really sure that she'd been meant to hear him, but she was too curious to let it pass. 'Would you really have left?' she asked, just as quietly, opening her eyes.
He didn't answer straight away, and Emma wondered if he really knew what he would have done. So much had changed between them in just a few hours. 'Probably not,' he said eventually, stilling his hand. 'Or if I had, I probably would have turned right back around and fought for you.'
And there it was again. She leant back enough that she could twist her head to look at him. He didn't look sad, not really, but she knew it was there. 'I'm sorry that I didn't fight for you,' she told him. She felt ashamed of herself, and she needed him to understand. 'I don't think I've ever been so stupid as I've been over these past few weeks. You're worth fighting for, Killian.'
His answering smile was still too cautious for her liking, but it was a start. Needing to see the light in his eyes, she rolled over fully so that she was lying on her stomach, crossing her arms over his chest and resting her chin on her forearms. 'You know you don't have to live in your ship,' she told him wryly.
There was the grin that she wanted. He raised his eyebrow at her. 'Oh, really? Where else would I sleep?'
Here goes nothing. 'In my bed,' she said cheerfully, trying to hide her nervousness.
She guessed that he saw straight through it, but the way the slow, genuine smile spread across his face made it worth it. 'I've been led to believe that you live not only with Henry but with your parents too, love. I know I only saw your abode briefly, but it appeared rather small for a family of five.'
Damn it. Biting her lip, she felt her heart sink. 'Yeah, I guess,' she muttered. Could they make it work? It barely worked as it was.
He still looked happy, however, so she narrowed her eyes at him. 'What are you planning?'
'Nothing at the moment,' he told her, 'but I'm sure that we'll work it out. Together, and tomorrow.' He pulled her in for a kiss, then she settled back beside him. She could feel his lips against her hair, and smiled against his chest. 'Goodnight, my love,' he whispered.
Emma fell asleep with a smile on her face, feeling more complete than she had in a long time.
AN: Ta da!
I'm a little sad to have this end, it's been so long since I've written fanfiction before OUaT took over my life, and I'm so ridiculously stoked with the response that I've gotten from this. Pretty please review and let me know what you think! I hope you all had even the tiniest bit of feels reading this that I had writing it.
xxx
