WARNING: This story is rated M for sex, violence and swearing.
Some of you might want to get a few tissues too :)
Ranting below, I'll let you read first :)
Enjoy!
Xx Annaelle
Part X
KPOV
He awoke to sunlight streaming into the room. He was resting comfortably on a mountain of pillows, the sheets twisted loosely around his body—and he was alone. He groaned and buried his face in the pillow once again.
It could not have been a dream, could it?
He scoffed internally—of course it could.
Having Emma blow off her late shift just to come home and run straight into his arms did sound all too good to be true. With an indignant huff, he dropped his head back onto the pillows and ran his hand over the sheets next to him.
They were cold.
So either he really had imagined the entire night—which he really didn't think was true; he didn't have that good an imagination—or Emma had gotten up long before him.
He wasn't sure if he should be alarmed by that thought.
The memory of the previous night brought a smile upon his lips, even though he still wasn't convinced it had been real—he was still 50 % sure it had been a dream.
A great, sexy, marvelous dream—but a dream nonetheless.
He was broken from his thoughts by the soft click of the bedroom door, followed by the soft patter of footsteps heading straight for the bed.
'Killian?' He rubbed his eyes tiredly when he realized it was Henry, and sat up, making sure he was still covered by the sheets from the waist down.
'Morning lad.' He glanced at the alarm clock on Emma's nightstand and frowned. 'It's bloody early, Henry. What are you doing up?' Henry crawled up on the bed with him and yawned. 'I dunno. I heard the shower run and thought mom might be in there, but the door is locked and no one answers when I knock.'
Killian frowned at that. Emma never locked the door—she never had.
Damn it, he didn't even know that door had a lock.
Gently, he patted Henry's shoulder. 'Why don't you try to get some more sleep, lad. I'll go see why your mother locked the door.' Henry nodded sleepily, his eyelids drooping already, as he snuggled deeper in Emma's pillow.
Killian rolled his eyes lightly and stepped out of the bed, pulling his sweatpants back on quickly before tiptoeing out of the bedroom, towards the bathroom.
As he approached the door, still unsure of what was going on exactly, he could hear the shower run. He tried to come up with multiple reasons for Emma to come in late last night, everything that had happened between them—not that he was complaining—and then to lock herself in the bathroom after he had fallen asleep, but he couldn't think of anything that even remotely made sense.
'Emma?' He knocked on the door, leaning his forehead against the cool wood, 'Emma, love, are you okay?' He was met with nothing but silence at the other side of the door, the sound of water drops pelting down on the tiled floor unnaturally loud in his ears.
Worry grew like a tight, painful ball in the pit of his stomach as he called out for Emma three more times—his anxiety growing with every bout of silence that met his words.
A strong of curses fell from his lips as he fell to his knees, lifting his hook to pick that damn lock—this was not the kind of morning he had imagined, and he would be damned if he didn't get into that sodding bathroom and find out what the hell was going on here.
The lock clicked, and the door swung open.
And he froze.
Once, he had been blessed by thinking that nothing he would ever see would hurt him more than the sight of Milah dying in his arms. He had thought that, even though he loved Emma far more than he had ever loved Milah, he would never feel that degree of fear, of pain again.
He had prayed every night for three hundred years, prayed that he would never have to feel that amount of loneliness, of betrayal, of hurt again, because he couldn't live through more. He couldn't.
And he had believed he wouldn't have to anymore either.
Because Emma was different.
Emma was stronger, more resilient, and Emma would always fight for them—she would fight anything and anyone and she would win.
But the feeling that overwhelmed him when the bathroom door finally swung open was something he could not describe.
Something he wasn't sure he would recover from.
He stared for a second, his eyes glued to the woman in the shower stall, curled up against the wall, her head resting motionlessly against the cold glass. Her hair stuck to her skin, covering her shoulders and eyes, but not enough to hide the blossoming bruises that were forming on her pale, nearly luminescent skin.
He stumbled inside instantly, pushing aside his shock and nausea, nearly breaking the faucet in his haste to turn off the freezing water that was cascading down on her.
'Emma?' His voice was broken, no more than a whisper, and it was all he could produce.
He perused her form slowly, almost unable to believe this was the same woman he had held so many times before, the same woman he had spent hours pleasuring last night, the woman that held his heart in a grasp so tight, he feared he might never get it back.
And he didn't want it either.
'Gods, Emma,' he breathed, his eyes widening in horror when he took in the bruises that were forming on her upper arms and wrists, the angry, red welts that marred her perfect skin. She was shaking, but she didn't respond to him at all, which made the lump in his throat all the harder to swallow.
He needed to move her, he realized, her lips were tingeing blue, and that was not good.
'Henry!' He yelled over his shoulder, beyond caring if he scared the boy, he needed him in here now.
He turned his attention back to Emma, laying her down on the cold tile floor, softly patting her cheeks, hoping that he could somehow wake her, make her explain what was going on.
'Come on, Emma,' he choked, 'Wake up.' He found comfort in the fact that, even though she was definitely out of it and not coming to anytime soon, she was still breathing. He ignored how badly he was shaking himself and lifted her in his arms—fighting the dreadful and near-painful urge to sink to his knees and burst into tears—rushing her out of the bathroom, into the bedroom.
'Henry, get up!' He nearly hissed, wincing at how Henry jumped—clearly frightened—and then watched wide-eyed as Killian lowered Emma to the bed carefully. 'Henry, lad,' he tried to calm himself, speaking in a low, deliberate voice, 'Call the hospital and have them send one of those Emergency Cars, to take your mother to the hospital. Then I need you to call your grandparents and tell them to meet us there. Can you do that, lad?'
Henry didn't respond for a moment, his eyes glued on Emma, who—Killian had to admit—looked like she had tried to drown herself, which had to be a rather disconcerting view for the kid. He knew that, and yet, he couldn't find the patience to wait.
Emma couldn't wait.
'Henry!' He snapped, 'I get it, lad, I'm scared too, but I need you to make those calls for me. Okay?'
Slowly, the boy nodded, and some of the tension seemed to wash away from Killian, who turned his attention back to an unresponsive, soaking wet Emma. 'Oh, love,' he sighed, 'What did you do to yourself?'
He ran around the room, all the while listening for the sirens he had come to associate with the Emergency Cars—he forgot what Emma called them—collecting the things he needed to warm her up again.
First, he tore off the clothes she was wearing, being careful not to scratch her with his hook, and then tenderly began to dry her off, dabbing the towel lightly over her inflamed, sensitive skin, wincing every time he saw her skin darken with deep red and purple bruises and long, dark red, angry welts.
His sanity hung by a mere thread, and he knew he had to hold it together—if not for Emma then for Henry's sake—but he was bloody terrified.
He had seen hypothermia before, and it never ended well.
That's why he had Henry call Snow and David; he knew that Henry would need someone to look after him; because as much as he wanted to, if Emma didn't improve, he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to look at Henry long enough to talk to the kid.
He looked too much like Emma.
He quickly finished drying her and then dressed her in underwear, a top and sweatpants, and wrapped her up in the softest, warmest blanket he could find, hoping that he wasn't hurting her anymore by redressing her.
He nodded at Henry, who appeared in the doorway, his eyes red-rimmed and watery, and announced that he was going to wait for the ambulance outside. Killian's heart squeezed at the lad's sad appearance, and he called him back gently, managing to smile lightly.
'She's going to be okay, lad. I promise.'
Henry merely nodded before he disappeared towards the front door again. Killian turned back to Emma, his hand finding hers on instinct, his fingers wrapping around her cold ones, wincing at how utterly unresponsive she was to his touch.
And for the very first time, he felt a glimpse of what Emma had to have gone through when he had been hit by a car.
The feeling of being so completely helpless was killing him, and all he wished for now was to find out how to make Emma better, to find out what had happened that made her lock herself in the bathroom and in the shower in the first place.
He crawled up on the bed with her, gingerly and carefully pulling her into his embrace, going over everything that he knew had happened the day before, one after the other, but finding nothing that would warrant a response like the one she had had.
Their day had been normal—the only thing that had happened was the…
He blanched.
They'd slept together.
He'd allowed her in, believing she was doing the same thing, believing she was as ready for it as he had found himself to be.
His eyes fell upon her pale face, his eyes wide with horror as nausea made his stomach twist and churn uncomfortably.
She couldn't have…
What if…
He nearly choked.
What if this was his fault?
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APOV (Alli's POV)
She snuggled deeper into her pillow and sighed happily. It was the first Saturday morning in a long time that her daughter was home with her, and she was planning on enjoying their time alone. She hadn't had the chance to spend a lot of time with her daughter lately, and she planned on doing just that today; before picking up Henry for their Saturday night sleepover.
But she could sleep in a little first; Elena never got up before nine thirty on a Saturday. With that thought, she buried her face into her pillow again, relaxing completely, melting into her soft mattress. She enjoyed the silence that early morning brought, a smile tugging at her lips.
And then the silence was broken brutally by the ringing of her cell phone.
'No-o,' she groaned, 'Too early.' Without lifting her face from her pillow, she felt around on the nightstand for her phone.
'Hello?' she grumbled, not checking Caller ID.
'Alli?' The soft voice at the other end woke her up instantly. She sat up slowly, running a hand through her thick, wavy hair. 'Snow? What's up?'
She bit her lip—why on earth would Snow be calling her?
'I need a favor,' Snow said, and for the first time, Alli heard the shake in her voice. Something akin to fear twisted her insides in a funny way and she frowned. 'Yeah, Snow, sure. What is it? Is Henry okay?'
She heard her heavy sigh and straightened instantly—her sixth sense for trouble instantly spiked—and said, 'Snow? Is Henry okay?'
'Oh God,' Snow exclaimed, 'Yes, Henry's fine, but Emma—she's …' Her blood froze in her veins at that—Emma was the best friend she'd ever had; she couldn't…
'What's… What's wrong with Emma?' She choked, her fingers tightening in her own hair. Snow sighed, 'We don't know yet. Killian found her in the shower this morning, unconscious; we're not sure what happened, but she's in the hospital…' she choked slightly, 'And Killian's really upset, he's freaking out, and I'm… And I don't want Henry to be here and I just—'
Alli swallowed and nodded, 'And you need me to pick up Henry.'
'I wouldn't ask,' Snow sighed, 'But I need to be here for Emma and David's trying to keep Killian from freaking, and I can't look after Henry too, and I know he was supposed to come to you anyway…' she trailed off and Alli bit her lip, worry still gnawing at her insides.
'Yeah,' she replied, 'Yeah, of course. We'll be there in half an hour.' She half-listened to Snow thanking her profusely before hanging up, sighing heavily once again, wondering what the hell was up with Emma.
Last time she had talked to Emma, she had seemed fine.
She stumbled out of bed, getting dressed quickly before stumbling to Elena's room, getting her daughter dressed still half-asleep; well, at least until she mentioned Henry—that brightened Elena instantly.
It made Alli smile; her daughter had it bad for her best friend's son—it was adorable.
'Come on Ellie,' she groaned, waiting at the front door as her little girl stumbled all over the place, still trying to wake up properly, 'We have to get Henry.'
Once again, the mention of Henry seemed to spur her daughter into action, and she grinned when Elena suddenly appeared in front of her, dressed and ready to go.
She rolled her eyes—so that was the trick to get her daughter ready faster; she just had to mention Henry and it'd take less than thirty seconds.
Good to know.
She managed to usher Elena outside and into the car with promises of breakfast at Granny's after they got Henry. She smiled lightly as she drove to the hospital, glancing at Elena every now and then, noting with a slight pang how much she was like Graham at times.
Alli smiled lightly at the memory of how grumpy her husband had been if she woke him up before he wanted to be up; or before he had had breakfast. She smiled at the memory of one of their final mornings together.
One of those beautiful, precious memories she had, before he had been taken by the Queen.
.
.
.
Alli sighed contently and snuggled deeper into her husband's embrace, unwilling to face the day just yet. He had made her promise not to wake up early today; something he loathed, for a reason she couldn't discern; even though he would be leaving in a few days to check on the wolf pack in the north.
She always worried about him when he made trips like these, and wished that she could just come with him already; but Elena wasn't old enough to take long journeys like these yet. It made her uncomfortable to have to miss her husband—not to mention the irrational fear she had of losing him too.
She groaned and buried her face in his chest, allowing the sound of his slow, steady heartbeat to appease her slightly. She had protested and threatened him, but he had eventually convinced her it had to be him to watch over the wolves.
Not that she didn't trust him—she knew him to be rational, calm, level-headed and she knew he could fight himself out of trouble if he had to—but she knew those lands. The Queen was a ruthless woman, and she didn't like the idea of her husband being out there alone, without anyone to back him up if he ran into trouble.
But those were concerns for later.
Right now, she wanted to delay his departure as long as she could. She needed to distract Graham…
Just for a while.
She smirked. And she had the perfect way all planned.
Slowly, she pulled out of his embrace a little bit, smiling at the sweet, innocent picture he made when he was sleeping. His lower lip stuck out a little bit in a tiny pout, his hair stuck every which way and his eyes were squeezed shut.
The sweetest though—the thing she loved most about his sleeping face—was how young he looked. When he was sleeping, all his walls were down, and he actually resembled the innocent, sweet man Alli had fallen so head over heels in love with.
She stroked his cheek lightly and smiled when he crinkled his nose. He was adorable when he was half-awake. She was broken from her thoughts by a soft grunt from the man next to her—she smirked and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
'Hey there,' she whispered, wrapping herself around him, resting her chin on his chest, looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes—she was perfectly aware of the effect that look had on him—and that was the effect she was looking for.
He blinked slowly and lazily, his gaze instantly meeting hers—that damn smile already plastered on his lips. 'Hey back,' he replied, his voice hoarse and so-damn-sexy. She loved how thick his accent was when he wasn't really awake yet.
She smiled saucily and straddled him, before leaning down to give him a proper kiss—distracting him might be the plan, but she was not unaffected either. She giggled and squirmed underneath him when he flipped them, smirking down at her as she pouted at him.
'Not so fast, my love,' he purred in her ear, 'I know what you're doing.' She gazed up at him innocently and bit her lip. 'I'm not doing anything... I waited for you so you could wake up on your own, not too early. What else would I be doing?' She whispered softly, wiggling underneath him suggestively. He growled in her ear and nipped at her earlobe.
'Distracting me,' he replied, his fingers continuing their journey over her soft, tanned skin—she enjoyed the tingling sensations it brought her—, 'So you don't have to think about the next few weeks. You know you can't put it off forever.'
He moved his lips down her neck and nipped at the skin while she desperately attempted to remember the English language.
'Wh—what?' She managed to choke. Did he say weeks?
Weeks?
He would be gone for weeks?
He raised his head, smiling gently at her—oh, he had purposefully not told her how long he would be gone; that jackass. She pushed at his shoulders, wincing slightly at the cold air that hit her as he rolled off her, laying down next to her again.
'You're leaving us for weeks?' She demanded, trying not to let her voice break on that final word. H rested his hand on the small of her back, but she jerked away from his touch, anger simmering in her veins.
'You said it wouldn't take long,' she spat, 'You said you'd be back in no time—not that you'd be gone for weeks.'
She felt him sit up, his arm behind her back, rounding her waist subtly, his lips caressing her cheek. 'My sweet, I don't want it to be that long either, but they are my family too—they need me too.'
She knew he was right; but she didn't like it any more than she had before. 'But what about me?' she whispered brokenly, 'You're all I have. I don't want to lose you too, and I don't want to be away from you—it scares me.'
He cupped her cheek and slowly turned her head towards him, smiling gently at her in the way she loved so. 'No witch or any magic is going to keep me away from you,' he whispered, 'The witch that took you from your family will not take me; I will always find you—I promise.'
She could see the truth and utter conviction behind his words, and nodded slowly, accepting that he needed this; he needed her to understand his love for the wolves; his other family.
And she did.
She was just selfish—she didn't want to share him.
'I love you,' she breathed, looking up at him, smiling when he leaned in, his breath washing over her lips as he whispered, 'I love you too.'
And then his lips claimed hers, and all thoughts were wiped from her mind.
.
.
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She smiled fondly at the memory, shaking it off when she parked the car in the hospital parking lot; she needed to focus now. 'Okay,' she said, turning to her daughter, 'Why don't you wait in the car, I'll go in and get Henry, and then we can go to Granny's.'
Elena nodded eagerly. 'Okay, mom. Tell Henry's mom to feel better.' She swallowed difficultly and nodded. 'I will.'
Unable to really contain her worry anymore—Damn it, Emma, she thought, when you are out of that hospital I am going to kill you—she hurried inside, stammering an explanation to the nurse at the desk, who pointed her in the direction of the waiting room.
She was only slightly surprised by the small crowd in the room—Snow and Charming were sitting together, Snow wrapped in Charming's arms, but her one hand extended to hold Killian's good hand. She blanched at the sight of Killian—she had met the pirate on a few occasions, and never once had he struck her as vulnerable.
She had seen the way he looked at Emma, and she had recognized that look; it was the way Graham had always given her. She had been happy for Emma—if anyone deserved to be loved like that, it was Emma.
But she saw none of the cocky pirate in him now. Henry was curled up on his lap, Killian's hooked arm wrapped around the boy, Killian's eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, his face ghastly pale.
'Hey,' she said softly, finding herself unwilling to break the silence in the room, 'How is she?' Killian didn't appear to be responding to anyone, but Henry leapt from his lap, and bounded into her arms, sobbing quietly.
Her heart broke for him as she kneeled in front of him, hugging him close. 'It's gonna be okay, kiddo,' she whispered, 'Emma's gonna be fine.'
Henry sniffled into her shirt, nodding slightly—she pushed him back a little and wiped the tears from his cheeks, smiling sadly, 'Elena's waiting for you in the car, why don't you go see her, and then you two can decide what we're having for breakfast, okay? I'll be right there.'
Henry nodded and waved at Snow and David, hugged Killian and then ran out of the room without another word.
Alli sighed and got to her feet again. 'However long you need me to take him, I will. Just,' she breathed in deeply, 'What happened? Why is she here?' Snow shook her head, barely containing her tears. 'We don't know. She was hypothermic when they brought her in—Killian found her in the shower.'
'She was fully dressed,' Killian croaked, 'Looked like she'd been in there for hours… I don't—' He choked, 'I don't know why she was in there; I don't get it…'
Her heart clenched, and she found herself moving towards him before she could rethink it. 'Killian,' she whispered, 'She'll be okay, you know that, right? Emma's a fighter, and she loved you; she'll come back to you. Just like you did with her.'
He lowered his watery, bloodshot, blue eyes to meet hers, and she winced at the pain, confusion and guilt that lurked in those eyes. 'What if she doesn't?' he whispered, sounding as broken as he looked, 'What if I did this to her?'
She shook her head, grabbing both his hand and his hook in her hands. 'It's not your fault, okay? Whatever happened, whatever made her stay in the shower, it's not your fault, and she would probably kick your ass if she knew what you were thinking. She needs you to be there for her, okay? She needs you to hold it together.'
He nodded ever so slightly, and she managed a weak smile. 'Take care of my best friend, alright?' she asked, squeezing his hand, 'I'll take care of Henry. Just make sure Emma's okay.'
'Okay,' he rasped, and she smiled lightly, 'Okay.'
She nodded, squeezed his hand one more time before letting go and getting back to her feet, sighing softly, turning to Snow. 'Call me, let me know how she's doing.'
Snow nodded, and Alli smiled weakly, turning on her heel and striding from the hospital, to her and Emma's kid—she promised she'd take care of Henry—and she would.
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KPOV
Hours later, Killian wandered around the hospital, his mind full of doubts and worry. Emma had been extremely vulnerable yesterday—no matter what Alli had said—what if she really did this because they had slept together.
What if she wouldn't be okay? Hypothermia was serious, and he had no idea of how long Emma had been in that ice cold shower, and his mind was running wild with ideas and fears and consequences. Killian dared not to think of the consequences if Emma wouldn't get better; if the hypothermia was too bad to treat. He knew this realm had a vast amount of medical knowledge, but he had seen men die of hypothermia, and he was frightened to see it happen to Emma.
Gods, he couldn't think of it.
The air around him suddenly felt suffocating, and he just needed to get out; he needed fresh air. He jumped up and shot a muttered apology to Snow and Charming before running from the Waiting Room, desperate for air.
As he strode out of the hospital, he breathed in deeply, gulping in the fresh air—he had felt as though his lungs were about to burst; and though the fresh air helped, he still felt as though he was dying too. He had no idea how Emma had done this; he didn't know how she had lived with this for nearly four weeks.
He swallowed, wishing that Emma would be okay for the millionth time that day. He couldn't let history repeat itself—he couldn't let Emma die because he was too late to save her; he couldn't lose her like he had lost Milah.
He would keep Emma safe—even from himself.
He leaned against the wall, resting his head against the cold, hard, unforgiving bricks and closed his eyes. He remembered what Alli had said to him; Emma needed him to be strong right now, she needed him to keep it together, and that's what he would do.
He just needed a few minutes to pull his act back together.
The silence around him was broken by the clicking of heels on the pavement. He smiled—he had expected someone to come after him; Snow was never one to leave things.
But the voice that called out for him was not Snow's. His eyes snapped open and he felt jaw fall slack, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
'Killian? It's me,' she said, a smile forming on her lips.
He choked, unable to actually pronounce anything—it couldn't be; this couldn't be real. He was in delirium—that was the only thing that made sense.
He watched her draw near, finally finding his voice again when she was right in front of him.
'Milah?'
Thank you all so much for all the reviews I got for last chapter! I am so relieved that you are all still interested in this story, so I decided to get this out there earlier than planned, and a little shorter than planned, but it's my birthday, and I wanted to give all of you, my wonderful readers, something to enjoy today too.
I know, you all want to know how Emma is, and I know you are all confused right now, but I love every single one of your reviews with guesses, your support, your appreciation...
This wasn't an easy chapter to write, and the next few chapters won't be easy either, but I promise you, we are getting near the end of this story-but fret not, there is a Neverland-fic waiting for you all :D
It will be about Killian's character development more than it will be about his blossoming relationship with Emma, but it will be Captain Swan endgame.
And for this story... I don't know how many chapters are left, but I promise, Gold, Emma, Killian, Cora, Milah AND Penelope will be featured in the next chapter.
Anyway, please let me know what you think!
Leave me a pretty little review for my birthday?
R&R!
Xx Annaelle