So, the prompt filling has begun. This was requested as part of the "Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I'll write you something angsty" meme on Tumblr. The line to include was: "Shit, are you bleeding?!" and the pairing was Killian and Emma from Sit, Stay, Feel. This part would fit somewhere in chapter 6.
Warning for minor bodily injury but nothing serious. Also, angst.
That night's puppy class had been comical and challenging. Damn near all of the owners wanted their sweet, gangly, still-easily-distracted dogs to be learning tricks that took Gale months to master, so the conversation kept getting derailed into more advanced topics and demos that no one — human or canine — was actually prepared for no matter how many times Emma warned them or tried to steer the class back to the basics they were barely having success with two weeks into class.
Still, they ganged up and requested a demo for teaching tricks like Killian's "hit the deck" command, so Emma indulged them to try make a point about their lack of skills. Even poor Gale was worn out by the end, having gone through every phase of teaching the complicated command, and Killian could see her execution was slow and she was bored. Luckily time ran out before anyone could ask for another demo he was sure Emma would have shot down anyway, and rightfully so.
As the last student filed out, tired puppy in tow, Killian and Emma both let out a loud sigh and then a laugh at their shared relief. Killian was itching to be alone with Emma away from the shelter, and Gale followed him around as he quickly cleaned up the room while Emma gathered up her belongings so the three of them could get the hell out of there. He had offered to make dinner this time since Emma bought them pizza last week. He had everything ready, including a nice red wine from a local vineyard to go with their burgers. Killian wanted nothing more than to hang out on the back deck with Emma and Gale and enjoy the clear, star-filled sky and warm summer evening. There were only a couple more days before he had to fly out of town and he needed to take his mind off the blasted trip.
When they returned to Killian's house, he settled Emma into the cushioned chaise on the deck and started a blaze in the spaceship looking fireplace he had picked up over the weekend for just such an occasion. It would double as a grill to cook their burgers on and maybe roast some marshmallows over too. Emma looked content as she shared the lounge with Gale, the two of them resting with their eyes closed, Emma's long fingers scratching and stroking Gale's ears as she snuggled up, her head on Emma's stomach. Killian smiled longingly at the picture of bliss they made, wanting to squeeze in behind Emma to hold them both, but went inside to get the rest of their dinner together instead. First, though, he grabbed a couple of wine glasses and the bottle of wine from the counter to pour a generous helping in each. God knew they both could use it.
Killian popped the cork from the long, curved neck of the emerald green bottle and took a deep inhale of the dark, velvety bouquet, the slightest hint of blackberry making his mouth water. He loved the summer and all its thick, heady, scents— the flowers, grass, fruit, even the ocean and its occasional red tide — getting lost in the intensity of them was his favorite passive hobby. Holding the glass cradled in his left hand, the delicate stem between his middle fingers, Killian tipped the glass and poured the wine into the rounded goblet.
Not halfway through the pour, his left hand spasmed, causing him to grip the glass too hard, too quickly, and he broke it, the shards crashing to the floor along with a small cascade of the deep purple wine. The immediate sting of alcohol in the fresh cuts and divots drew a sharp breath from him as the pain rolled up his arm.
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, shaking his hand of both wine and glass. Fucking hand. Bloody fucking useless hand.
Killian leaned against the counter, rubbing his clean hand over his face as he held the other, dripping hand, away from his body like it was something to be shunned and driven away. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try to collect himself and shove down the rising tide of anger making its way to the surface. His hand was never going to be 100% — he'd had too many surgeries and there was too much damage that all the physical therapy in the world couldn't restore — but it never failed to catch him off-guard when it didn't work properly. Most of the time he was careful how he used that hand, but tonight he'd forgotten and felt whole for a change. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Shit, are you bleeding?!" Emma gasped from the doorway. Her eyes were wide and fixed on his hand. Gale was just trotting up behind her to see what all the fuss was about.
"No, no, no, no, Gale. Stay," he commanded holding his uninjured hand up to stop her from entering the kitchen. "Emma, don't let her in, there's glass all over the floor. I don't want her to cut up her paws, please."
"Of course," Emma agreed. She turned to Gale and shooed her back out into the yard before coming back into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. "Are you ok?" she asked, the concerned look on her face making him uneasy.
Killian looked away from her and back down to his hand which had a few small chunks of glass imbedded in his palm, but thankfully not too deeply. Just surface damage. He began gingerly picking them out and tossing the bits into the sink. "I'm fine, love," he muttered.
Emma skirted around the majority of the mess on the floor to stand before Killian, her own hand outstretched and reaching for his. As her fingers brushed the back of his wine-sticky hand she said, "Here, let me."
"No!" Killian all but shouted as he pulled his hand in close to his chest protectively. Emma stepped back in surprise, her eyes snapping up to his with a mixture of hurt and shock. Killian gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "Sorry, lass. I can take care of it myself. Really," he assured her holding up his palm so she could see the damage a little better. He grimaced briefly as he looked at it himself. "See? Barely even a cut, and I'm sure the wine took care of cleaning everything out," he concluded.
Emma looked at him skeptically and dropped her hands to her sides. She glanced at the floor and asked, "Can I at least help clean up the glass?"
"No, darling, but thank you. I just wanted you to have a nice relaxing evening after working so hard. I can handle this mess. It is of my own making, after all," he said. Emma was just about to speak when Killian interrupted her. With his good hand, Killian reached over to the counter and handed her the other wine glass and then the bottle. "Take those and go back out on the deck with Gale. I'll get this all ship-shape and join you in a few minutes. Really. It's ok."
Standing there considering him, Emma was rooted to her spot. He could see she wanted to help, but he wasn't ready to talk to her about what would inevitably amount to just another scar that would go unnoticed amongst the many already marring his skin.
He gave her a smile he'd hoped she wouldn't see through and waved her away. "Go on, go relax with Galene. You've earned it. The wine is one of my summer favorites, so please go enjoy it," he pleaded.
Reluctantly Emma turned from him and headed toward the back door, glass and bottle in hand. With one last glimpse at Killian, Emma said over her shoulder, "Don't be long, ok?"
"Aye, love," he answered. As soon as he was sure Emma was back on the deck, Killian turned and punched the calendar and its red, coarsely circled date. Only two more days.
