A/N - Delirious knocked-out Emma is my fave.
9. Home
When Emma opened her eyes, the first thing she was aware of was the sky above her, endless and impossibly blue.
Her eyes and her mind were still blurry, fogged with fatigue. Her thoughts were sluggish too, heavy and reluctant to connect. She blinked, wincing in the sudden glare of sunlight, too bright against her aching eyes. What...? She let her lead eyelids drop closed again, then managed to open them without too much effort. Her leg hurt. Really hurt. And her forehead...
Emma blinked slowly, staring blindly at the sky and the sun. And then there was something touching her, pressing against her forehead where it hurt. Soft skin brushed over hers, gentle, wrists ghosting across her face, small hands moving softly, delicately. Her mind struggled to piece things together. She summoned the strength to lift her eyelids again, and when she did something heavy shifted in her chest.
There was an angel leaning over her.
Emma stared. The angel was dabbing at her forehead gently with a cool wad of cloth, and in the sunlight her brown eyes seemed flecked and spoked with a thousand shades of gold beneath her purposeful, black eyelashes. Dark hair hung over her shoulders, almost brushing Emma's chest as she gently tended to her wounds. Behind her head the sun shifted in pale spun-gold shafts, spraying like a halo around her. She was beautiful.
And then her mind woke up, and she realized the angel was actually Regina, and wanted to punch herself in the goddamn face.
Emma scrambled upright, heart suddenly beating harder in her chest. Her brows drew together into a frown, breath catching in her throat. What the fuck? And suddenly the sky was just the sky, because it must have been midday, and the sun was too hot and her leg killed like a bitch. And something weird was shifting in her stomach, because what the hell had she just been thinking?
"Hey, hey," Regina sat back slightly, mouth set, eyes searching hers cautiously. Her cloth – which, Emma realised, was actually another torn off piece of shirt. God. She was going to need to get a whole lot more soon – paused in her hand. "You okay?"
Emma swallowed, trying to look anywhere but her stupid pretty concerned face. "Fine."
"Well that's a lie." Regina told her bluntly. There as a slight furrow between her brows, vein standing out in her forehead, wariness etched plainly on her features. "You've been out for two days. Your leg got hit by a rock when the landslide happened, and your head's cut up too."
Emma sat up properly onto her elbows, wincing in the shifting golden sunlight. Already, she could feel herself starting to sweat. She glanced down at her leg, where Regina had wrapped a strip off torn-off trouser cloth around her calf. The material was dark to start with, but she could make out blacker stains glistening on the fabric. She swallowed, staring back up at Regina.
The brunette shook her head suddenly, reaching for Emma's bag, which had been abandoned a little while away, fishing inside for the water skin. "It rained, while you were out." Regina explained, holding it out to her. "I collected some of the water from those big leaves."
Emma nodded, taking the water skin and drinking deeply. She didn't think brunette would think to do that. Her eyes never left Regina's. "Why didn't you just leave me?"
"I couldn't." Regina stated. She was sitting back on her knees at the pirate's side, cloth in hand.
"Oh," Emma stared.
"Are you serious? Your crew would kill me." Regina paused. "And –"
Emma's heart leapt in her chest, for some reason. She swallowed. "And what?"
"I don't know. Nothing. Shut up and drink your water." Regina stared for half a heartbeat before she blinked and broke Emma's gaze.
A breathless grin curled at the corners of Emma's mouth. She didn't know why, but it made her smile. She settled back on her elbows properly, green eyes flickering over the brunette. "Considering I'm your captain, you tell me what to do a lot."
Regina gave her a look. Emma shut up and drank her water.
-0-
"So we're up on the clifftop to the west of the port. So we need to get down to the beach and walk east until we find the boat. Where the crew will hopefully already be." Regina was saying, trying to make sense of it all in her head. When the landslide hit, the contents of Emma's bag had been flung far and wide – the water skin she'd found, but the map hadn't been so lucky. She was basing her entire knowledge of their whereabouts on a few weeks of listening to pirate prattle and their footprints. She frowned grimly. "If they're still there."
"They will be, trust me." Emma assured her, voice low and still strained with pain. "I know every man on that ship like my own brother, I'd trust any one of them with my life and they know that. They'd never leave me like this."
"Okay." Regina acknowledged. She opened her mouth to press the subject further, but then thought better of it. If it turned out Emma was wrong and they weren't there – well, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it. "Do you think you're ready to walk?"
"Course." Emma rushed. Then her green eyes flickered up almost childishly to meet Regina's. "I mean, you'll have to help me."
Regina stared doubtfully. The pirate captain was slumped against the base of a rock, wounded leg propped up in front of her, sweating and muttering, sipping water. Her heart raced at the thought of how bad the injury might actually be. When she'd first seen it she'd been terrified – the blonde's trouser leg had clung to the black pulsing gash so badly she'd had to saw a few inches of cloth off with a broken rock to get to it – and then the sight would have been enough to make her gag, except she wasn't a weak little nothing and she could handle it perfectly.
Honestly, she had no idea what she was doing. This was peasants work! Or rather, physicians work with peasants tools. Not to mention disgusting. However much she loathed magic she had to admit it would have been easier if – god. But Regina was a peasant now, practically. Worse: a pirate. That was the price she'd had to pay for her freedom. So be it, she'd thought.
So she'd gritted her teeth and dealt with it.
Well, she'd cleaned it out with some rainwater, copying what Emma had done with her hand, and then wrapped it as best she could with the torn off cloth. Anyway, Emma was awake, alive and her usual obnoxious self, so it had to have worked.
It was just that walking down a cliff on it might not be the best idea in the world.
"Are you sure?" Regina wondered, frowning. "It looks bad, Emma."
"Princess." Emma huffed. "It's fine." She caught Regina's stare and held on to it meaningfully, looking right into her eyes. Then she dropped her gaze suddenly, jaw tightening, staring down at the dirt. "This whole trip was a bust. I just want to get off this damned island before – without too much trouble –" She sighed.
Regina nodded. "I understand." She hesitated, casting one last look at the tightly-wrapped wound, before breathing in sharply and shaking off her inhibitions. Since when did she care whether the pirate got herself killed or not? She leaned down slightly, sighing and offering her hand. "Well?"
Emma grinned breathlessly, reaching out to grasp her hand in hers. Her strong, rough fingers gripped her tight, skin clammy as she heaved herself up to her feet. Regina saw her wince immediately, pain creasing her brow and twisting her mouth. Her hands shot out to steady her – not that they'd be much help. "I'm fine, princess." She assured her irritably. "Fine."
"Stop saying that!" Regina snapped, huffing. "What is it with you arrogant pirate types, never able to admit you're human for one minute."
Emma shot her a glare. "You're a fine one to talk."
"Be quiet, pirate." Regina told her briskly, pointedly ignoring everything she didn't feel like dealing with right now. She breathed in slowly. The midday sun was crawling steadily across the heavy blue sky, the jungle casting black shadows over the clifftop. She braced herself, drew in another breath of strength, and moved closer to place her arm tentatively around the pirate captain. She blinked, keeping her voice flat and even. "You need to put more weight on me."
"You're like, four feet tall, princess, I'll crush you," Emma told her, voice scathing and mildly annoyed. But she slid her arm loosely around Regina's waist anyway. Regina could feel the warmth of her skin through their clothes.
"Again with the short jokes?" Regina whipped her head around to stare incredulously. "You're an inch taller than me."
"And don't you forget it." Emma replied meaningfully. But then another pained grimace crossed her face, strained half-groan leaving her lips suddenly. "Shit,"
"Hey," Regina swallowed hard, before pushing back the irrational wave of second hand worry. "This isn't working, I think you need to – move your arm up, a bit. Around my shoulders, so you can lean on me properly."
Emma turned to face her. With their new position, their faces were suddenly absurdly close. Regina could feel her hot laboured breath against her skin, blonde hair tickling. The arm around her waist tightened, holding her purposefully, so she could feel the warmth pressed against her through their clothes, could feel the strength in her. Her heart leapt irrationally in her chest. Then a small grin quirked at Emma's mouth, sparkling in her green eyes. "But I was just getting comfortable."
"Be quiet." Regina shot her a sharp look, ignoring the completely unrelated rush of warmth to her cheeks. "I mean it, put your arm around me and let's go!"
"Ooh. Eager." Emma wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. She smirked again, though her breath was still tight and uneasy. "I like it."
Regina turned to her. "Emma," she said, "I will actually kill you."
"Okay." Emma unwound herself from the brunette's waist, slinging her arm across her shoulders instead. "As my princess desires."
"You are concussed." Regina told her bluntly, shifting slightly to move her own hand up the pirate's back. Then she added, under her breath, "Either that or you're more annoying than I thought, which I didn't know was possible, but –"
"The second one." Emma managed, voice strained. "Definitely aware – shit –"
"Hey – hey," Regina strengthened her hold on the pirate as best she could, feeling the strong arm wrap heavier around her shoulders, laboured breathing in her ear. "Put more of your weight on me."
This time, Emma didn't complain.
Instead, she gripped Regina tighter, releasing a long stucco breath. And taking her first limping step, in time with her. They started out that slow, struggling over every rock and every crevice on the cruel path. There was a road cut into the rock, leading down the cliff to the beach, if you could call it that.
Ankle-twistingly steep, driving down mercilessly for so long and then jerking sideways without warning and twining around awkward corners and double loops. Not to mention that the whole path was littered with driftwood and fallen debris from the landslide. To their left, the cliff dropped off suddenly, uneven chunks and open air. Regina tried not to look down.
It didn't help that Emma's physical strength greatly outweighed hers. Regina had thought she was stronger than average, because of her horse riding, but that was stupid. She could see that clearly now. She could argue about it all she liked but the truth was she was less physically able than Emma.
And now she was attempting to support her as they walked down a death trap cliff path. And carry the damn bag at the same time.
So they started slow. Slow and painful, stopping every few minutes for one or both of them to catch their breath. But eventually, somehow, they fell into a kind of rhythm, steadily gaining speed as they made their way down the cliff side.
It was strange. Regina had been put off all day after the pirate had fallen on top of her for a few seconds, but this constant entanglement didn't feel awkward, or embarrassing or weak. Grunting and huffing in each others pained grasp in the sunlight, working perfectly in tandem, it was just what they had to do.
Eventually, the sharp twining slope evened out, and after a final scrambling drop, Regina felt her narrow boots sink into the wet rocky sand.
Regina couldn't help but sigh in relief. Her bones were shot with fatigue, every muscle aching, the wound on her hand was itching like mad. They shouldn't have – by all logic, they shouldn't have made it – but they did. Regina couldn't help it: she unwound her aching arm from Emma, taking a moment to gather her heavy breath in her lungs.
Emma staggered backwards, panting. Pain was still etched in the lines of her face, but there was something almost like triumph glittering in her green eyes. It put a strange breathless smile on Regina's face.
"You good?" Emma managed, voice scraped thin and rough.
Regina nodded. The sun had been cruel all day, and a fine layer of sweat still clung to her skin, sticking her clothes against her back. Just a few days ago that alone would have been enough to rant about. Strange.
She shook her head, swallowing. The sun was going down now anyway, or rather, preparing to. The wide sky was tinged lilac, orange clouds blushing salmon and fading as the light turned pale and thin, and evening crept in on the salty air.
Just the sound of the ocean, loud and close, just a few metres down the rocky grey beach, was enough to make her heart sigh with relief. The sight of it, seething and endless, heaving up and down, tossing dark blue waters edged in lacy foam out onto the shoreline and dragging them back, was strengthening.
Oh good lord, Regina thought, I'm half a pirate. But it wasn't a worse thought that being half a queen, and the whole scenario was ridiculous enough for hysteria to bubble up in her chest. Somehow, she suppressed the urge to laugh.
"We need to get back to the ship," Regina managed, tossing her gaze over the beach to catch Emma's eyes. Now they were back on the coast, the wind was threading through her hair, throwing dark handfuls across her face.
Emma held her gaze and nodded, face contorted with pain and relief and determination. Then, as Regina trudged back over to her, a small smile played over the pirate's lips. She held her arm out, ready. And it was so ridiculous, Regina had to laugh too.
Then she slipped into place, the side of her body pressed against the side of Emma's, summoning all the strength she had to force her protesting muscles back to work.
Walking over the stones was considerably harder than flat ground, and damp gritty sand wasn't much better, but they didn't really have a choice. So they got on. They got on until, beyond the curve of the beach, the familiar shape of the wooden hull silhouetted against the blazing sunset came into view.
Regina's heart leapt at the sight, muscles drawing new strength from it, blood dancing. A grin spread over her face, her blood was dancing. She could feel it in Emma, too, see the curl of her matching grin out of the corner of her eye, feel the new resolve in her ragged breath. They walked the rest of the way, gradually gaining speed until the were half-running, half-staggering for the dusky-lit port.
In the distance, Regina's gaze snagged on the black silhouettes of figures, pacing the tiny port. Her heart soared, and she opened her mouth but no words came from her raw throat. She swallowed, clearing her throat again before shouting,
"Hey!"
"Hey!" She shouted again, waving her free hand as best she could.
Emma caught on then, adding her own rough shouts. Two of the figures turned to face them, sprinting over the beach until Regina could squint enough to make out Alaric's face, and her whole body nearly collapsed in relief.
Well, she thought to herself, staring over at Emma with a grin fixed to her face, eyes wide and relieved and stuck on hers, hell must have frozen over, because here I am. Happy to see these pirates.
-0-
It was in the soft torchlight of the smudged starry night that Emma found herself outside the door to Regina's cabin once again.
There was a heaviness in her heart, but it was a good heaviness. A good slow steadiness to the breath that found and left her lungs. Surrounded by the familiar creaking wooden walls of her ship, wrapped in the soft-edged night and the smell of dust and salt and cinnamon was like being in the right skin again. A faint smile crossed her lips. Like home.
And just as she'd made a home for herself out of wood and nails and cloth, she couldn't help thinking she'd made a home for someone else too. Because without even realising, she'd started thinking of the little stateroom as Regina's cabin.
It was strange to think they'd arrived back at the ship only a couple of hours ago. It felt like days. And days further since she'd staggered down the cliff path, gripping the annoying brunette for dear life. When Alaric found them, he'd taken most of the weight off Regina's shoulders, helping them both back to the Saviour quicker. Once they were back on board, Fallor, who had been a healer's boy once, dressed her leg properly and she'd spent a while cleaning up, changing her clothes. Giving everyone a brief version of what had happened.
Why she was no closer to finding her son.
She'd let herself cry once she was alone in her cabin. Let herself cry and rage, but for some reason when she'd normally reach for a bottle of rum or whiskey, she just... Didn't.
Emma felt peaceful now. She felt peaceful, slow, steady like the ship around her. Yes, she was angry. She was angrier than she'd been in a long time, and more confused too, because both those emotions seemed to mount every day. She didn't know what she was going to do now about the Fortune's North, and Henry – she was all of those things and yet just in that moment, waiting outside the door in the night glow, she felt peaceful.
She raised her hand to knock softly on the wooden door.
She heard footsteps, and then the door swung quietly open. Regina was standing in the doorway, wearing the papery nightgown Emma had dug out of one of the chests on the Bluebird for her. Her dark hair was loose, hanging over her shoulder and shining in the soft candlelight. Emma waited for her wide dark eyes to lift and meet her gaze.
She let the hint of a smile ghost over her mouth. Emma blinked, cleared her throat, and ducked her head slightly. She wanted to be polite, like the woman was used to, make her feel comfortable, but she didn't have a clue about rich people manners. She cleared her throat. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Regina nodded, turning her head to lead the blonde into the little cabin.
Emma closed the door carefully behind her. Inside, the air was thick and heavy with heartbeats and candlelight. She could hear her heart beating in her temples. The pirate swallowed, turning to block the princess' path, so they had to stand and look at each other. She sought her eyes, holding it, green gaze burrowing into brown. "You okay?"
"I'm okay," Regina replied, articulate. She lifted her eyes to her. In the light of the candles and the softness of the night, all her hard edges had been erased. All of her defences had been lowered, if temporarily. For once, Emma thought she was beginning to see inside. And she thought she just might like what she saw.
The smile crept across her lips then. "I'm glad." Emma's breath congealed in her lungs, smile fading in place as she just looked at Regina's brown eyes, watching and thinking and feeling that weird feeling in her chest again. She cleared her throat. "I wanted to thank you. For saving my life back there."
Regina's lips parted, eyes seeming to search for the right thing to say. She raised her stare back to Emma's, not exactly smiling, but not exactly not either. "It was the least I could do." The brunette paused, eyes darting down to the floor. She was clearly considering something. Eventually, she lifted her gaze back up to Emma's eyes, taking a step towards her. Her dark eyes were shining with some strange emotion, candlelight painting a soft glow over her olive skin. Regina swallowed, and bit her lip ever so slightly. "You've done more for me in these past weeks than anyone has, ever." A small, slow smile quirked over her lips. "I'll deny this in the morning, but I don't want you to die."
Emma felt the grin spread across her chest before her mouth. "It's a start."
When she closed the door behind her, she took a moment before making her way to her own cabin, head full of thoughts.
Who'd have thought?