I hope you guys are enjoying this fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it!
I've started to post it over on AO3 now as well.
This chapter is maybe a little more angsty, but next chapter will kick off with some good ole' comedy.
And also, please don't hate Liam too much. He's just being an overprotective big brother ;)
Enjoy!


Lilac Wine


Chapter Nine


"Liam, what the fuck?"

The moment Emma disappeared inside, Killian punched his brother in the arm for a second time. His heart was still racing from the dizzying proximity of Emma seconds before his brother ruined the moment they'd been building up to for almost three weeks. The crippling disappointment that had rushed through him when the moment was broken had quickly turned into anger toward his brother.

"Sorry! I didn't exactly expect you to be harboring a celebrity fugitive when I got back. And I certainly never thought for a second that you'd be in the middle of a make-out session with anyone, let alone...her. Jesus Christ, Killian, what are you thinking?"

Liam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his head full of questions. Admittedly, he was protective of his little brother, and he was slightly affronted by the fact that Killian had completely failed to mention the fact that a famous popstar was staying at his hotel while he was away, never mind that he'd apparently become involved with said popstar too.

Killian rolled his eyes, turning away from Liam to pick up the blanket and unopened bottle of wine from the lawn, intent on storming off to his room to cool off.

"But maybe it's a good thing I interrupted you when I did," Liam said pointedly, and Killian spun around to face him in disbelief, "Have you even thought this through? You're asking for your heart to be broken, Killy. She's all over every magazine in the country right now, and how long do you think it'll be before she has no choice but to go home?"

Killian clenched his jaw, unwilling to admit that the thought had crossed his mind quite a few times over the weeks. He didn't want her to leave, but at some point she'd have to. Her home was in Los Angeles, not some hotel in the middle of England. She had a family, a career, out there. But they hadn't spoken about it, choosing instead to consciously avoid the subject.

"After four years," Liam continued, "you've chosen a girl who is almost definitely gonna break your heart. She's hot as hell, I'll give you that, but why on earth are you willingly being her rebound guy?"

"You don't even know her. And I am not her rebound guy-"

"You don't know her either, Killian! Not really. You've known her for, what, a couple weeks? And has she, or has she not, just come out of a relationship?"

Killian's eyes were blazing and he hated the fact that he couldn't really argue with Liam's point of view. From the outside, without feeling the undeniable connection he and Emma had shared since the day they'd met, he knew it could be easy to see their affair as nothing but a disaster waiting to happen.

But he wasn't about to give up on the first woman who'd made his heart beat again in four years. He wasn't about to give up on them before they'd even tried. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he wasn't about to give up on her.

"You know nothing about what's going on with her. Or us. You've been encouraging me to start dating again for the last two years! And now, the second I find someone who makes me feel alive again you're trying to convince me it's a bad idea! I can't win, Liam!"

Liam took a deep breath and shook his head.

"I can see exactly how this is gonna end though. I'm looking out for you. I know you're blinded by the fact that this insanely beautiful, famous chick wants you, but look at the big picture. What happens when someone finds out where she is? What happens when some sneaky journalist snaps a picture of you two together and the media goes into a frenzy?"

Killian's lips pressed together in a thin line, deep frown lines set into his forehead as he glared back at his brother. When he didn't respond, Liam continued.

"I'll tell you what'll happen: they'll dig up anything they can find on you and they'll run with it. Everything you've spent four years getting over will be splashed all over the covers of magazines and you'll be forced to relive losing Milah all over again. Don't do that to yourself, Killian. It's not worth it just for a couple of weeks as Emma Swan's boy toy. This can only end badly, and it won't be her that'll be left with a broken heart."

Killian's grip on the neck of the wine bottle tightened and he could feel every muscle in his body tensing up as he stepped closer, eyes blazing.

"Back off, Liam. I know this is your misguided way of trying to protect me, but back off. This isn't just some stupid crush and it has nothing to do with who she is. You know me well enough to know I don't care about any of that. When we met, I didn't even know who she was but I finally felt my heart suddenly start beating again, somehow. I'm aware of how cliché that sounds, but it's true," Killian dropped his gaze then, his heart stuttering, "I'm in love with her…completely and madly in love with her. I honestly don't care about your opinion of her, because I know this means as much to Emma as it means to me."

With that, and before Liam could respond, Killian brushed past his brother and made for his room. He toyed with the idea of detouring to Emma's room, but their moment had well and truly gone. He needed to cool off in the quiet of his room and try not to reflect too much on his brother's long list of objections.


CS


"Good morning…"

Emma had been silently praying to see Killian at the front desk as she made her way to breakfast the next morning. Her heart sank when she saw Liam sat there, checking through the emails that had amassed in his inbox during his vacation.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she was immediately struck by just how alike the brothers were. Except this one didn't look at her as though she was the first ray of sunlight he'd seen after being in the dark for four years. This one looked at her as though she was threatening to rip a puppy's heart out right in front of him, with said puppy being Killian.

She understood why he was wary of her, but it frustrated her that he'd clearly taken whatever the media was saying at face value. Surely he had to realize there was more to her story than what the tabloids printed?

"Morning. Killian's gone out. Anything I can help you with?"

He was being professional, but Emma could easily read between the lines and she sighed.

"I can tell you don't approve of my relationship with your brother. And I get it. But regardless of what you think, I don't intend to hurt him."

The cool mask of insouciance Liam wore gave away nothing, but he had the same traitorously expressive eyes as his brother so she could quite clearly see the raging storm he was hiding.

"You may not intend to hurt him, but you will," his voice was calm but his words were loaded, "and you've known each other for all of three weeks. It's hardly a relationship, Ms. Swan."

She maintained her composure but she was sure he'd caught the flash of annoyance in her eyes.

"I don't expect you to understand, and I doubt anything I say will change your mind about me, but Killian is a big boy so let him make his own decisions. And I promise you, I will not break his heart."

Emma turned then and made her way to breakfast, leaving Liam brooding over her words. As much as she wished she'd had the chance to see Killian before he'd left, she was glad to have had the opportunity to speak to Liam alone. She knew Mary Margaret would have had the exact same reaction to Killian, and she couldn't blame Liam for being protective of his brother. Especially considering how much Killian had been through.


CS


After breakfast, Emma returned to her room. She didn't know when Killian would be back from wherever it was he'd gone, and she didn't plan on seeking out Liam again to ask. So, instead she flicked through the TV channels and wasted time on her laptop until she knew it would be a civil hour to call Mary Margaret.

She'd made the mistake once of forgetting about timezones and called in the middle of the night west coast time. Of course, Mary Margaret had panicked when she'd heard her voice, assuming something must be wrong if she was calling at 3:30am. Needless to say, she was not best impressed when Emma admitted she'd simply forgotten about the time difference.

A few hours later, when Emma was sure her sister would be awake, she fumbled for her phone and switched it on. The only two numbers she had stored in the burner phone were Mary Margaret's and Killian's. She'd never needed Killian's yet, considering they'd spent every day practically glued to one another.

When the phone finally loaded up, her text message alert popped up. She had two messages. Opening up the most recent one, she smiled. It was from Killian.

Em,
I've had to go into London for some boring business thing. I'll be back mid afternoon and maybe we can pick up from where we left off last night?
K.

After she read the message, she glanced over at the clock, impatient for him to return. She'd dreamed about kissing him when she'd finally fallen asleep the night before, and she was pretty sure the reality was going to far surpass her imagination.

Sending a quick reply telling him that she was very much looking forward to kissing him senseless, and to hurry back, she clicked back to her messages to see whom the second text was from.

And suddenly, it felt like all the air had been stolen from her lungs. An unknown number had messaged her, and panic immediately set in. Mary Margaret would definitely not have given Neal her burner number. But he was resourceful and the fear of seeing an unknown number on the screen was at the back of her mind every time she switched on the phone.

With shaking hands, she opened the message, and she honestly didn't know what to think.

Hi Emma.
Just want to know where you are and that you're okay. I've been worried.
Graham.

She hadn't spoken to Graham since the day before she'd left LA. And even though they were friends, and spent a lot of time together seeing as he was her lead guitarist, she had to admit she hadn't really thought about how her disappearance would affect him.

She knew Graham had feelings for her. Ruby had been the first to point that out years earlier, and then later Neal had made it quite clear he didn't trust Graham around her. She'd brushed off Neal's concerns, telling him he was imagining things. But secretly, she'd started to notice the way Graham's gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, or the way he'd smile nervously if their fingers brushed when he handed her the coffee he brought to the studio for them every morning.

She'd chosen to overlook those things though, because at that time she'd only had eyes for Neal. And now, years later, she'd fallen for someone else while Graham was back home worrying about her wellbeing. Her feelings for Graham were, and always would be, completely platonic, but she felt a stab of guilt as she re-read the text, so she hit reply.

Graham,
I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. It wasn't exactly a planned trip. I'm guessing by now you've heard that Neal and I are over – I've avoided looking at what the magazines are saying but I'm sure there are plenty of rumors circulating, as always. I'm okay though, you don't need to worry about me; I'm being looked after. I don't know when I'll be back, but I promise you I'm fine.
Emma.

She was careful to leave out any reference to where exactly she was. There was no use putting Graham in the firing line if Neal found out she'd been in contact with him. She was hoping by now that things would have cooled down and Neal would have realized there was no way to change her mind. Especially not with the tactics he'd attempted to use.

The moment she'd pressed send, Emma's heart sank. What if it wasn't really Graham who had sent her that message? Only Mary Margaret had her number now, and she wasn't sure if Graham had ever even met her sister.

Neal could probably have figured out that she'd reply if she believed she was speaking to Graham rather than him, and he was cunning enough to use underhand methods like that if he thought she'd take the bait. Her hands were shaking as she hit speed dial to call her sister, hoping Mary Margaret would talk her out of the panicked state she was getting herself into.

No answer.

But as she listened to the dial tone, a firm knock on her door startled her and she almost dropped the phone. She'd worked herself up into such a state of panic by this point that she simply stared at the closed door with wide eyes, her heart hammering painfully against her ribs while the phone still rang out in her hand.

A few endless seconds later she came to her senses and ended the call, striding toward the door and feeling a potent surge of relief when she peered through the peephole and saw Killian's face.

Throwing open the door, Emma was still trembling and Killian's warm smile immediately disappeared when he saw the clear distress on her face. He stepped into the room and pulled her to him without a second thought, running his fingers gently through her hair as she pressed her face into his shoulder, his other hand rubbing soothing circles against her back as he nudged the door closed behind him.

She felt her uncontrollable panic slowly dissipate in his tight embrace and she silently marvelled at the way he'd instantly been able to tell that something was wrong and had instinctively known how to comfort her without even the slightest hint as to the cause of her distress.

"Whatever it is, you don't have to worry about it now, love. You're safe here, I promise."

He murmured gently as he pressed a kiss into her hair. She melted into his arms, truly believing his words while she remained in his safe embrace. After a few long moments, she pulled back to look up at him and took a shaky breath.

"I think Neal may have gotten hold of my burner cell number. I don't know how, but I just have a feeling that it's him."

Killian looked confused and she wasn't even sure if she was making sense. She was well aware that she sounded paranoid, but really, she had every excuse to be. Neal didn't have the best reputation for handling humiliation well, and she assumed that whatever the media was saying wasn't painting him in the best light. He had a fiery temper, and the fact that he'd beat up numerous paparazzi over the years for various reasons meant that they weren't his biggest fans.

"Has he threatened you?" Killian's voice was laced with concern, "Because I swear to God, Emma, if he has tracked you down, I'll beat the living shit out of him if he even dares to look at you wrong. I don't generally resort to violence, but anyone who puts fear into your eyes the way he does deserves everything he gets."

Emma's heart echoed with his words. This man, so very different from the man she was running from, would do anything to keep her safe and protect her heart and her happiness.

"He hasn't threatened me. I don't even know whether it's him…I'm probably just being paranoid," at his confused expression, she explained, "I had a message from my guitarist. He's a friend, but I don't really know how he'd have gotten the number. Only my sister has it and as far as I'm aware, they've never even met. His message was just a simple 'let me know where you are and that you're okay', which could genuinely have been from him…but as soon as I replied I just got this sinking feeling that it was Neal playing me. He knows I wouldn't reply to him…but I would reply if I thought I was speaking to Graham."

Killian seemed to be turning her words over in his head and remained quiet for a few moments. She swore she could almost see the gears in his head rotating.

"You didn't mention where you are though, did you?"

She shook her head firmly. She was still berating herself for replying at all before she'd spoken to Mary Margaret and found out whether Graham did, in fact, have her burner number somehow.

"Well," Killian continued, "if Neal does have this number, I'm not convinced he'd be able to find you with just a cell phone number to go on."

"It's a British number, though," she sighed, "He'd figure that one out pretty quickly."

Killian smiled and reached forward, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and letting his fingers linger against her cheek.

"Emma, England might not be anywhere near as huge as America, but I assure you, even if he does figure out you're in this country, he'll have one hell of a job tracking you down up here. We're in the middle of the countryside – good luck to him navigating the roads around here without local knowledge. You're safe, I promise. And I'm here to protect you anyway."

He smiled again and she felt the weight beginning to lift off of her shoulders. He was right, of course. Even if Neal did figure out she was in England, he'd had a difficult enough time navigating around London the last time they'd travelled together, let alone taking on the winding country roads. Her hands had stopped trembling by now and she was a little in awe of how easily he could talk her down. Usually it was only Mary Margaret who had the ability to be her voice of reason when she was whipped up into a panicked state, but Killian had proven himself more than capable of soothing her with his words and gentle touches.

"But I have an idea," he suddenly said, and she saw the gears turning again, "How about we move you rooms so that you're right next door to me? That way, if he does get in touch with you or you're freaking out about anything, I'm right beside you if you need me."

Emma looked up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she reached out and slowly traced the high v-neck of his t-shirt with her fingers, watching the way his eyes darkened when she gently grazed his collarbone with her nails.

"Is this your way of getting me closer to your bed, Mr. Jones?"

She teased in a low tone, eyes sparkling with amusement as the last coil of tension eased out of her shoulders. She could quite clearly see how affected he was by her words and he swallowed hard.

"Well, I didn't have an ulterior motive until right now."

He replied, barely above a whisper, his voice much lower now and thick with the sudden desire she'd stoked so easily. She laughed softly and stepped back, noting the flash of disappointment in his eyes as she broke contact. If she kissed him now, in the middle of her bedroom with her bed just meters away, she knew for sure that they wouldn't leave the room for the rest of the night.

"I'll pack all of my things now then, shall I?"

She moved toward the closet and began folding the few clothes she'd hung up over her arm and placing them neatly on the bed. He muttered an affirmation and helped her move everything to her case. It was a relatively quick process, because most of her things she'd left folded in her suitcase anyway, so it wasn't long before Killian disappeared to swap the room keys in the lobby and returned with a smile and a cant of his head down the hallway. He bowed grandly and she rolled her eyes despite the grin she wore.

"Your new room awaits, my princess."


CS


"It's not in the basement, it just goes down into the natural slope of the hill that the hotel is built on," he explained, "You get to my room from the outside. It's kinda like a Granny flat attached to the hotel as an afterthought, but your room shares a deck and a private courtyard with my room. Maybe we could…have dinner on the deck tonight? Sort of like a do-over for last night. Liam and Jane are visiting friends in the next town too, so we'll have no interruptions this time. Whaddaya think?"

He said nonchalantly as they headed down a hallway and he stopped at the top of the steps leading down to her room. She smiled and nodded, feeling a flush of warmth surge through her when his face lit up.

She watched then as he stepped backward, fumbling in his pocket for the room key, and suddenly he lost his footing. Before Emma could even shout his name, Killian was thundering, head first and with a curse of surprise, down the handful of steep steps and landing in a heap at the bottom.

"Wow, this idiot is where I chose to place my affections? This is my life now. These are my choices."

She thought sarcastically with a small smile and a shake of her head. She stepped forward then and her first instinct was to laugh because his tumble had been reminiscent of the epic fails from America's Funniest Home Videos. But the laughter died on her lips when she saw the clear expression of pain on his face as he sat, shocked, on the floor.

She rushed down to him, noticing the way he cradled his left arm and wheezed when he moved to sit on the bottom step to catch his breath. All trace of amusement was gone and she crouched down beside him, reaching forward to touch his arm. He shied away from her touch.

"I wouldn't do that, love," he ground out, gritting his teeth in pain, "It's…uh…definitely broken."

Emma's eyes widened and her gaze shot up to meet his in alarm. She could see his forearm appeared to be at an odd angle, but he was shielding most of it from her. When he shifted, she gasped.

"Is that…is that your bone?!"

She cried, her hand flying to her mouth, and he winced as he nodded. She stood up quickly, hurriedly telling him she'd run to the lobby and call for an ambulance.

"Emma, wait. It'll…be quicker…" he was wheezing and wincing, struggling with his words through the hazy fog of pain, "it'll be quicker…if you drive. I'll g-guide you."

She nodded numbly, helping him up the steps and feeling him sway unsteadily as he leaned heavily on her for support. His vision was blurring at the edges and he was fighting to remain conscious. He sucked in air through his teeth, trying to focus on anything but the white-hot tendrils of pain that made his stomach churn with every slight movement.

"I'm a fucking idiot…"

He mumbled, the fingers of his good hand gripping Emma's shoulder tightly as they moved as quickly as possible toward the lobby. Emma shook her head.

"Yeah, but you're my fucking idiot."

She said as lightly as she could manage. She couldn't help but feel a little bit responsible. If she hadn't worried him with her paranoid panicking, he wouldn't have switched her rooms and therefore wouldn't have been anywhere near those much-too-steep steps. She didn't vocalize her guilt, because she knew he'd scoff at her for it. But that didn't stop her feeling it regardless.

Grabbing his car keys from behind the reception desk, Emma helped Killian into the passenger seat and ran round to jump in behind the wheel. She'd never driven on the left before and she decided not to divulge that fact to him. He already had enough to worry about with directing her. She also happened to be particularly dreadful at following driving directions (in her own defense, she reasoned, at home she had a driver who mostly saw to it that she rarely sat behind the wheel and he'd once informed her, jokingly, that he felt safer knowing she wasn't let loose in control of a vehicle).

"This is going to be…interesting."

She thought, taking a deep breath and switching on the ignition. The four-wheel drive roared to life but her heart sank as she looked down at the gear stick.

"Killian? I've…erm…never driven a stick shift before…"