"Stop it," Killian grumbled, peeling one eye open to look at Emma. She smiled sweetly and watched the particles of dust flutter in the sunlight spreading itself across Killian's face. He squinted and rolled over onto his side with a groan, his face pressing itself into the cool, crisp pillow. Emma was laying on her front, propped up on her elbows, her entire body glowing in the daybreak sunlight as she laid beside him naked.
"Stop what?" Emma whispered, shuffling herself forward so she was closer to him. Killian could smell her and inhaled deeply with a yawn, savouring the way she invaded his senses with her familiar post-coital scent. Finally opening both eyes, Killian's gaze flicked over her body with a smirk, the smoothness of her behind absorbing the heat of the sun. Instinct told Killian to reach out and his hands itched to feel her skin against his.
"You seem to have an obsession with watching me sleep," he quipped huskily. Killian's hand snaked out of the crisp white sheets and brushed a lock of Emma's sun drenched hair behind her ear. It was soft and messy, but unmistakably that which he enjoyed so much.
Emma leaned into Killian touch, shivering as he trailed his long, skilled fingers down her neck. Emma's eyes fluttered closed and the familiar, welcome ache in her bones crept up her spine. "But I like-," Emma gulped, her words cut off when Killian's lips made contact with her skin as he kissed her arm, humming with a smirk when he heard her gasp.
Killian rolled his weight forward, pushing gently against Emma's shoulder, his hand drawing lazy circles on the delicate skin. The room was warm, even warmer in the sunlight that tumbled across the whiteness of the bedsheets, and Emma fell backwards onto the downy pillows with a silent laugh. Killian's fingers danced down her arm, jumping to the soft curve of the side of her breast where his hands paused against her skin.
"You like?" Killian teased, watching Emma's expression as she writhed beneath his touch. Emma's back arched off the bed, pressing the hardness of her blushed nipples into Killian's palms, his breath ghosting over the buds.
Emma gulped, squeezing her eyes tightly closed when she felt the longing between her thighs ignite. Her skin burned but she wasn't sure if it was because Killian set her ablaze with passion or the sun had crept to her side of the bed already. Killian smirked, rolling Emma's nipple under his thumb and leaning down to kiss at the sensitive skin of her collarbone. Emma's hair tickled at his face, catching in the week old growth that littered his jaw.
"Killian," Emma whimpered, her voice barely audible through his kisses. "Don't stop," she breathed, her hands reaching for his head and holding his lips to her skin with a firm grip in his sleep messed hair.
"I'll never stop," Killian panted against her, the words leaving a damp residue on her skin as he made his way down her throat.
"Don't leave me," Emma whispered and Killian frowned against her sternum, her words confusing him as he tore his mouth from her skin, noticing the room had been dulled by the sunlight disappearing. Killian pulled back to look down at Emma, her skin turning ashen and grey under his touch and he pulled his fingers away as it changed, rolling away from her and panic filling his body.
"Don't let me go," Emma pleaded, her eyes filling with the salty water of tears.
"I won't," Killian stammered, shaking his head. His heart beat faster in his chest, thundering painfully in his ears and his eyes tried desperately to focus on Emma's as they crumbled from her face.
"Don't give up on me," Emma's words echoed, almost distant despite her being so close to him. Killian flushed hot, jumping from the bedsheets as Emma's lithe figure began to twist and distort before him. Her already pale skin turned darker, cracks visibly appearing like dark chasms all over her body and when Emma reached out a precariously fragile hand, her fingers began to fall away, leaving a sprinkle of dark, black and white ash on the pristine bedsheets.
"Emma!" Killian shouted, the room falling dark around him. The perfect, white window frame fell away, falling from view with a cracking sound. The ceiling pulled away and Killian watched it fly off into a never ending sky, overcast with blackness and rumbling with thunder. Killian took a shaky step back, watching the previously inviting wooden flooring beneath his feet splinter and shard in all directions.
"Killian." Emma's voice faded away, further and further on each pleading gasp. "Killian," she cried, the sound barely leaving her mouth before her beautiful face dissolved into a volcanic heap on the pillow.
"Killian!" His name echoed loudly in the air, clashing with the roll of thunder and a flash of lightning. Killian flinched at the sound and he saw a flash of white behind his eyes as he pinched them closed and let the world swallow him whole.
Killian jumped in his seat, his head slipping from his hand and jolting him awake. It was a nightmare, so vivid and real to him that Killian's body had responded by sweating and sticking his shirt to his skin. After hours of waiting, worrying, the material had become as ragged and aged as Killian felt. He blinked rapidly, flashes of Emma's charred remains and shrieks of despair ingrained on his memory. Killian never wanted to feel the loss he did right now, and it had only been a dream that had made him feel this way. The reality of right now was far scarier.
The slow hum of machines and the rhythmic beep of Emma's monitored heartbeat filled the room, reminding Killian where he was. He glanced around and noticed the darkness outside of the window, the town lights of Storybrooke like amber candles along the streets. A few noises outside of the room caught his attention, and Killian snapped his head in the direction of two talking doctors, discussing a patient beyond the huge glass doors. The privacy curtains were pulled together, but he could make out their conversation through a tiny gap in the rough, white material.
Killian relaxed back into his seat, his hot skin cooling against the vinyl. "It was only a dream," he told himself tiredly. Killian sighed, covering his face with his slightly sweaty hands and dragging them over his face with a yawn. His mind raced with the image of Emma fading to ash again and hot goosebumps prickled his skin. Killian cast a weary, sorrowful glance upon the real Emma before him and couldn't fight the pang in his heart.
Emma was still unconscious, her features unchanged and the machine still breathing for her with a forced rise and fall of her chest. Her skin was pale, slightly swollen around her eyes and cheeks, but she was there, real and palpable. So many of Killian's questions remained unanswered by her silence and with each huff of the ventilator, his heart wrenched in his chest. Killian grabbed the warm, wooden handles on the chair and shuffled it forward, bumping his knees against the plastic bed frame, ignoring the dull pain shooting through his legs. He laid his hand on Emma's arm, drawing deliberate lines across her forearm with his thumb. Even in slumber, Emma's body reacted to his touch, and her skin turning tiny bumps under his fingertips.
"Oh, Emma," Killian breathed, lifting Emma's heavy hand from the sheets and kissing her knuckles. There was a small graze to the skin there, probably inflicted when she fell, and Killian wished he had been able to catch her. Killian would always catch her if she let him. The scuffed skin had started to heal already and Killian wondered how long he had been asleep. He tilted his wrist, and flashed a glance at his watch, the smeared glass face reflecting his tired features back at him. It was seven in the evening; nine hours since Emma had fainted.
"Come back to me," he breathed faintly, giving her hand a tiny squeeze. "I need you to be alright."
The door to Emma's room was suddenly pulled open and a doctor breezed in, his head tilted down and his eyes busily searching over Emma's electronic notes in front of him. His white coat whipped behind him and a short, blonde nurse that followed him slid the glass door closed behind them. He was probably nearing retirement, his balding head littered with only the smallest smattering of silvery grey fuzz. Killian reluctantly dropped Emma's hand and stood up from his chair awkwardly, pushing it back from the bed with a scraping noise. He barely had time to dry the clamminess from his hands on his pants before the Doctor offered him a hand.
"I'm Dr Mendez," he chirped, not letting his gaze meet Killian's once.
"Killian." Killian gave him his hand and they shook stiffly. "Killian Jones."
"How is our patient doing?" Dr Mendez asked half to Killian and half to the nurse at his side. She was a rounded lady, her hips and shoulders the same width and her short, stubby arms fiddled with the flow of Emma's IV.
Killian watched Dr Mendez as he walked around the other side of the bed, flicking his eyes over the numbers and lines on Emma's monitors. "She hasn't moved, or said anything," Killian said sadly, rubbing his hand together in front of him nervously. Any second now he was expecting to be ejected from the room when the staff found out he wasn't family.
"Well, she is in a medically induced coma, Mr Jones." The doctor peered at him with a narrowed gaze, mentally noting the difference in surnames. "She won't wake up yet." Dr Mendez nodded towards the nurse and she nodded back, a silent gesture they had obviously both practised many times before.
"Why? When will she?" Killian pried, concern rushing into his veins. "I need to-." He paused, biting his tongue. He had so much to say to her, to prove to her, and he felt like it had all been ripped away from him so suddenly. "I just need her," Killian sighed, rubbing a single finger over the skin behind his ear.
Dr. Mendez stopped and looked at Killian, halting his hurried questioning. He had lots of patients, too many if he was honest, but the tone of sadness in Killian's voice made him stop for a second. Delivering news was easier when it was good news. Finally, he turned his head to meet Killian's wide-eyed stare and offered him a soft smile.
"We are going to monitor her for the next few hours, but so far she has responded well to the antibiotics we have given her." Dr Mendez folded his arms over his chest as he spoke, taking in the broken shell of a man in front of him. Killian didn't respond, waiting for more information that the doctor might have to give. "I know this seems extreme, but she has a rare complication from her pneumonia, and this is for the best. We caught the pneumonia early," he offered with a tight-lipped smile.
"Can she hear me?" Killian asked and Dr Mendez nodded with a smile.
"Most patients that have been in a coma say they could hear the voices of their families," he said, not committing to any answers that might give Killian any hope or take any away.
"When they woke up," Killian confirmed to himself. Dr Mendez swallowed hard and fiddled with his name tag. It was plastic with a metal swivel that had become twisted, and he straightened it up against his pocket.
"Miss Swan is strong," he said confidently. "It won't be long and she'll be off the machines."
"So, she'll be okay?" Killian's eyes fell back on Emma's tired frame, and he swore her hair had lost most of its colour. The colour was greyer, muted and her lips were dry and cracking underneath the tube. Killian stepped closer to her, gulping a lump down his throat as he reached out a tentative hand and stroked Emma's messy hair flat.
"This is all a precaution." Dr Mendez motioned around, pointing the equipment out to Killian as he spoke. "We are breathing for her to reduce the risk of permanent damage to her lungs." Whilst he spoke, the nurse busied herself with inputting data to Emma's chart held on the tablet in her hands.
"Or the baby's," the nurse mumbled sweetly lifting her gaze from the bright screen of the tablet with a soft smile.
Killian nodded as they spoke but he didn't hear the words after what the nurse has just revealed. Killian's gaze was fixated on Emma's chest, the gentle rise and fall simulated in time with his ragged breathing. It hitched in his throat, the overwhelming urge to cry pricking in his eyes once more. Adrenaline coursed through his body, Killian's entire body tingling with fear and his heart changing its beat with love for a child he hadn't even met or even knew had existed until just now.
"Thank you," Killian offered weakly not looking at the doctor or the nurse.
"We'll give you some privacy," the doctor offered back, motioning the nurse to follow him from the room.
Killian ignored the sounds of the hospital when the door opened, and heaved a breath, blowing out a huge rattled sigh as the tears fell. The nurse's words bounced around Killian's brain and he stilled his hand in Emma's hair. Light, nimble fingers rubbed some of the soft curls between their tips, and a silly gasp escaped Killian's chest.
"Did you know?" Killian smiled sweetly towards Emma's unresponsive face. He turned over his warmed hand and brushed his knuckles down the side of her cheek. Emma's skin was cool to the touch and a little oily from her fever.
"I mean, you would have told me, right?" Killian quizzed, his brow knitting together in a frown. "Of course you would have," Killian scolded himself instantly, shaking his head a little. There was no sound to reassure him of his words, only his own mutterings and the regular beep of the machines. His body tensed and his gut fell away from him, the uncertainty of his future suddenly very real. Their future.
"Do you even want kids?" Killian's questions came thick and fast, tumbling from his mouth like water over a fall. "We haven't talked about it." And why would they? They had barely dated.
"How many? Do you want a boy or a girl? Will you go back to work afterwards? What will we tell other people? Have you thought of names?" Killian rambled, his voice jumping and hitching as he became a little irritated by the one-sided conversation. He ran a quick hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his ear harshly with his blunt fingernails.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Killian exclaimed sadly, his hand languishing slow trails up and down Emma's arm. "Were you angry at me?" Killian waited but Emma returned no answer. Killian watched her, his eyes skimming over her face for any sign she was listening. Emma's eyes rolled under her eyelids, a remnant of the deepest induced sleep she was hidden in.
The whole misunderstanding with Shelley weighed heavy on Killian's mind and he swallowed his sadness down with a gulp. There had been hardly any time to explain, to ease Emma's worries and fears, and Killian felt a sudden distaste for himself in his mouth. He couldn't live with himself knowing that Emma had known she was pregnant and hadn't told him because she was angry. It was all his fault. If only he had worked things out earlier. Killian was one hundred percent sure Emma, however incensed with him, would never have held this sort of information from him. She was good, and pure and innocent.
"You didn't know, did you, love?" Killian's question fell on deaf ears and he got no response from Emma's lifeless body. Killian's lip quivered and he bit down on the flesh until it turned white. "You don't know," he confirmed sadly.
Killian took a step back and dropped back into the chair behind him. The flimsy vinyl creaked under his weight as he shifted around uncomfortably. Killian reached out and gripped Emma's thin wrist in his nimble fingers, smoothing his thumb over the soft skin there and tracing the outline of the petal on her tattoo. Killian thought it felt warmer than it had before, but it was probably just Emma's fever.
"I promise you, anything you need, anything the baby needs," Killian's words trailed off and his lips twitched into a thin, sideways smile. He was going to be a father and although woefully underprepared, his tension was laced with excitement. "We made a baby," he giggled nervously, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her damp forehead.
"Emma," Killian began, dropping his face to her ear and stretching out his palm over her flat stomach where life had yet to show. "I love you."
Killian's head whipped up, the high-pitched whirr of an alarm sounding from Emma's heart monitor filling the room. There was a little red light flashing on top of the screen, and Killian watched the numbers in the corner start to increase. Killian pulled his hand from her body as she began to heave, her whole body going rigid and arching itself from the bed. Emma's eyes shot open, watery and bloodshot, and she fixed her gaze on Killian's petrified expression. "Emma," he breathed, rushing closer to her so hard that he cracked his skull on an overhead swing arm lamp. He winced but ignored the pain when his forehead began to throb.
Emma struggled, her weak limbs swinging wildly by her face, grabbing for the offending tube down her throat. Her tingling fingers scratched numbly at the clear plastic, her eyes wide with panic. Emma was dazed, still heavily drugged and confused, and she didn't understand what was happening. She couldn't breathe, her throat was stretched by the medical equipment that had been breathing for her, and now her lungs were scorched by the red hot pain of the need to inhale.
Emma shook her head from side to side, her hair flicking wildly on the pillow where she lay. Adrenaline surged through her, prickling uninvited heat over her skin, and Emma wretched and heaved. She could barely focus through the tears in her eyes and the world went fuzzy around the edges of her vision. With what felt like her last ounce of energy, Emma lifted her arms and reached for Killian, eager to free her lungs from the searing pain, silently begging him to call her her doctor.
"Emma, no!" Killian soothed quickly, sure she would grab for her tube. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed. "It's alright," he nodded quickly, his own breath quickening with the increase in Emma's heartbeat. "Can somebody help?!" He called out hysterically, shooting a quick glance to the doors, and no sooner had the words left his mouth, a gaggle of nurses and Dr Mendez rushed into the room.
Emma struggled against him, an unknown strength finding her suddenly, and Killian turned back to her, holding her gaze. He placed a quivering palm to her cheek, smoothing away her tears with the soft pad of his thumb, his heart thumping in his chest so fiercely he thought he might have a heart attack. "I'm here, love. It's alright, I promise." Killian felt Emma relax, a single tear falling from her eyelids and rolling down her cheek as she nodded slowly in compliance.
"Step aside!" Dr Mendez snipped, shoving Killian aside with a gentle elbow. Killian staggered backwards, his rubber-soled shoes scuffing against the tiled floor. He fumbled blindly with his shirt sleeves, wrenching them up to expose his inked arms and bunching them over his elbow. Killian's sweaty palms found his face, clinging to the sides of his cheeks as he helplessly watched the swarm of medical staff around Emma.
"Emma. Emma, my name is Dr Mendez," the doctor said softly, his words short and curt and his breath hot against the skin of her cheek. Leaning closer still, Dr Mendez pointed and instructed his staff in the right direction for what was to come. "You have a tube down your throat, so we need you to breathe out of your nose, okay?" He waited for Emma to nod at him, her eyes full of understanding but no less scared. "It's okay," he soothed. "It will be out soon."
One of the nurses, one Killian had not met before, ran over to the ventilator and switch it off. The machine powered down with a dizzy hum, its lights going out with a blink. The same nurse, dressed in different coloured scrubs to the others, quickly detached the tube connection with a click and let the rubbery pipes fall to the floor. It hit the ground silently and was crushed under her weight when the nurse stepped forward even closer to the bed.
"Now, honey," she began, her thick, southern drawl tumbling from her mouth fast and messily. "I'm going to sit you up and when I tell you, I want you to cough for me, okay?" Her words were almost a blur and Emma barely made any out through the echo in her ears. Emma shot a quick wide-eyed glance at Killian, urging him silently to help her. She was gulping for breath, struggling to calm her breathing through her nose as it filled up mucus.
Two nurses sat Emma up, her bed creaking under the strain of its electric motor. Another nurse flicked on the lights, the whole room flooded with a sterile, white hue. Emma pinched her eyes closed, the light stinging behind her eyelids. Her hands found the bed rails and Emma held on, gripping the off-white plastic, her patience for the obstruction in her throat waning fast.
"Emma, honey, you've been in an induced coma and we are going to extubate you," the lead nurse continued. "Do you know what that means, sweetie?" The nurse was kind, her words soothing and she brushed a tendril of hair from Emma's sticky forehead tenderly.
Emma calmed. Of course she did, she was a doctor after all. And this was a test, to see how well Emma could communicate and show cognitive function. It was one of the ways doctors knew if a patient was ready to breathe on their own. Emma could hear Killian, but she couldn't see him through the wall of nurses. Her mind was torn between thinking like a doctor and thinking like a patient, scared one minute and then feeling brave the next.
"Help her!" Killian snapped, his temper and frustration bursting into the room. He was done with standing on the sidelines. He was done pretending to be family just to see Emma. Technically now, he was family, and the urge to protect both Emma and the baby was uncontrollable. "She can't breathe, damn it!"
"Sir, I need you to calm down," Dr Mendez took a step towards Killian, blocking his view of Emma. Another nurse stepped between them, crowding Emma's bed until she was completely hidden.
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Killian growled throwing his hands up into the air. "I'm done being calm!"
"Sir, you can't shout in here!" One of the nurses chimed in lifting a wall mounted telephone receiver. She kept an eye on Killian whilst dialling a few figures with a stiff, gloved finger. "Security," she spoke into the handle, her one-word answer a statement.
Killian shook off a tall, thin male nurse who grabbed his shoulder. "Get off me!" he snapped, wrenching his shoulder forward and eyeing the sheepish nurse. "Touch me again-," Killian gruffed low, but his words were cut off by the sound of Emma suddenly gulping a huge desperate breath.
Killian instantly softened, his cheeks flushing red with a mixture of nerves and adoration. His instant calm was noticed and Dr Mendez wove a dismissing hand towards the nurse on the phone. She uttered a few words, following orders but still suspicious of Killian's rage, and told security things were now fine.
Emma's body shook as she coughed, her eyes streaming with yet more tears. One of the nurses dabbed at her tears with a small piece of scratchy paper towel, but Emma welcomed the feel of it against her skin. It meant she was awake, but she could not remember how she had got here, and as the sea of staff parted in front of her, Emma finally focused on what she wanted to see the most.
"Killian," she croaked, a tiny weak smile curling her lips. Killian's face spread into a sprightly grin and he heaved a sigh of relief at her words. Emma saying his name was everything. It meant so much and the wash of comfort that accompanied it was all Killian needed right now.