Forgive me for the extra time between chapters. Cap Civil War came out and I've been awash in too many MCU feels.

Kitsis and Horowitz can do all they want with the characters on the show but this is my playground.

"Blackbeard? Is that what you neglected to warn me about?"

Swan was incredulously glaring between him and the ship that was on their tail.

"In my defense you weren't exactly receptive to anything I had to say," Killian shot back as he turned and ran across the deck. He saw Thompson helping load cannons with grapeshot as he made his way to the ladder leading down into the bowels ship. Without pausing he called out, "Tommy, we're about to host a very unsavory guest. Try and convince Swan not to do anything rash until I get back and whatever you do don't let any of those cannons fire!"

"And where do you think you're going?" Thompson yelled after him.

"A pirate is only as good as his weapon!"

He slid down the ladder and made his way down the passageway, blinking madly as his eyes adjusted to the dimness below deck. The cabin he shared with Thompson wasn't far from where he had dropped down but with the evasive actions of whoever was at the helm was taking he found himself bumping into the walls and nearly toppling through open doorways.

Finally he stumbled into his cabin and flung open the trunk at the foot of the bunks. There wasn't much in it aside from the few belongings he had brought over from the Jewel. Swan had been right about his clothing, just a few shirts and a spare pair of trousers. Killian flung those out along with a his empty pack to grab what was underneath.

He pulled out his sword, a thing of beauty crafted for him by their kingdom's best blacksmith for his eighteenth birthday and gifted to him by his parents. The guard was a single brass bar looped and whirled on itself so it protected his hand thoroughly while still garnering attention for its craftsmanship. Yet, it was the blade that made his sword truly unique. Made from Woot steel it had the appearance of rippling water but was unparalleled in its sharpness and durability. It was his prized possession.

Strapping the sword belt to his waist, the scabbard and sword resting at his hip, he was relieved that he had yet to hear another cannon go off. It was short lived as he realized that the Brooke was slowing down. Killian cursed as he hurled himself out of the cabin to make it topside before the Revenge was within hailing distance.

As he emerged on deck he found Thompson squaring off with Swan, Red, and Pinocchio. The rest of the crew was either nervously watching the argument or more nervously watching the rapid approach of the Revenge as they worked. They had lowered the sails and the Brooke was markedly slowing even as Killian watched.

"What do you mean we can't fire the cannons?" Pinocchio yelled as he gestured towards the Revenge. "They had no problem firing at us!"

"Warning shots only, surely you're aware how effective those are?" Thompson said exasperated as if he'd repeated the phrase multiple times already. "I mean you are pirates right? I haven't been sailing on a pleasure cruise for privileged aristocrats have I? My mistake, perhaps we should just bend over and let Blackbeard fu-"

"Enough!" Killian roared. "We don't have time to rip at each other's throats when we're about to be boarded by a crew far more bloodthirsty than ours."

"Then why aren't we taking shots at them while we can?" Pinocchio growled turning on him.

"Because the Revenge has far more firepower than us and she's in the position to take advantage of that. Our best bet is to allow them to board and hope they want nothing more than to raid our hold. They've undoubtedly seen the colors we're flying and the Brooke's reputation may be enough to keep Blackbeard satisfied at merely humiliating us," Killian spoke quickly guessing they only had minutes before the Revenge would be alongside them.

"And if he decides otherwise?" Red asked, forehead tight with worry.

"Then we fight," Killian answered grimly.

He looked across from him and saw Swan watching him with a look of displeasure. In the urgency of the moment he had forgotten his place. The Brooke was not his ship, he was not her captain, and any decisions about her fate had to be made by Swan.

"I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't mean to overstep my bounds. Whatever course of action you choose I'll support," he dropped his head in a nod, deferring to Swan.

Swan didn't say anything at first. She continued to look at him and he kept his face open and encouraging. He wanted to ask her if this was the first time she was at the mercy of a pirate who had spotted a prize, if she'd ever had to fight for her life before, if she was scared, but he held his tongue. It wasn't the time for such questions.

"Emma?" Pinocchio questioned hesitantly, his hand reaching out to touch her elbow. "You need to make a decision."

Killian watched as she seemed to come back to herself. Her eyes focused and clarified and her lips turned down in fierce determination. She turned to look back at the Revenge.

"We'll follow the steps that Jones has suggested we take. We're outgunned but I doubt we're outmanned," she broke away from them and strode up to the helm. The crew followed her progress and watched her with bated breath. "Looks like we're finally experiencing what countless other vessels have felt when they spy us on the horizon. While our position may be reversed we'll keep with the same tactics we've used before. No one addresses me as Captain, no one looks at me when they ask to speak to the captain, when they decide for themselves who the captain is you will defer to any order they give even if they happen to choose Grumpy this time."

There was a smattering of laughter, tense and without humor but it served its purpose. The crew was no longer nervous but alert, ready to spring into action. Killian marveled at the command Swan had while she was, in a way, giving it up.

"Not one of us will make the first move. Blackbeard is rumored to be a bastard but so full of hot air and pompous pride that we might just be able to get out of this okay," Swan looked over her shoulder as the Revenge was slowly approaching the starboard side. "Prepare to be boarded."

Swan left the helm as the crew scurried about grabbing weapons and positioning themselves across the deck. Red and Pinocchio broke off to do the same each heading towards opposite sides of the ship. Thompson looked at him grimly and then down at his side.

"Didn't think to grab mine while you were down there?" He asked casually looking back up to watch the Revenge and her crew come into view in front of them.

"I wasn't sure where you had stowed it this time," Killian shrugged as he placed his hand on the pommel of his sword. "Now we know why no one had ever seen the Brooke's captain."

"Quite a good tactic if you ask me," Thompson said as he bent over and slid a dagger from his boot. "They must have built up a lot of trust with each other for it to work."

"We have," Swan said as she approached them keeping her eyes on the Revenge. "I hope you two don't fuck things up."

The sound of hooks digging into the rails of the Brooke prevented Killian from answering. Someone was calling at them to surrender and a voice to his left responded in the negative. A threat was issued and another voice, this time from the stern, reiterated the refusal to surrender. Finally when it appeared that the Revenge's crew was satisfied by the tethering of the ships together a long plank of wood was set up and they made their way across.

Swan stepped away from him and Thompson as her crew shifted unwillingly to allow the intruders on board. Moments later the man himself made his way across.

Blackbeard was dressed in an ostentatious coat of red with leather cuffs and lapels, frilled black shirtsleeves embroidered with gold thread draped over his hands, and a wide leather belt adorned with three knives was worn much like a sash across his body. His long, dark black hair hung down from under his tricorne and his eyes were a piercing crystalline blue made all the more striking by the kohl lining his eyes.

Immediately Killian could see what all the reports and tales had meant when describing Blackbeard as a peacock on the sea but with a streak of cruelty befitting any pirate. The man was smiling but his eyes were darting from one end of the Brooke to the other in cold calculation, taking in everything. It was clear he was looking for the captain to address his demands.

"I never thought I'd see the day that the Tarina Brooke would sail these waters," Blackbeard said as he looked at his crew surrounding him. "Then again with Captain Swan at her helm I can't say I'm surprised."

Blackbeard and his crew broke out into raucous laughter. Killian felt his jaw clenching but did as Swan had ordered and kept his gaze steadily on the pirate captain. As the laughter died down a scowl flit across Blackbeard's face when he realized no one had risen to his bait.

"What's this? Is Captain Swan too much of a coward to step forward? Pity, I was rather looking forward to humiliating him when I took this ship for all she's worth before sending her to the depths below," he scanned the deck again and seemed almost disappointed when no one moved. "Nothing? If I had known the Brooke was under such poor leadership I would have sought her out to take her sooner. Perhaps I'll start a pirate fleet, since apparently the Brooke just needs the right touch to make her fall in line."

He licked his lips lewdly and laughed again. Killian felt a rush of anger and opened his mouth to retort but Thompson's hand on his arm prevented it.

"Kil, don't," Thompson hissed at him.

"Aha! Captain Swan I presume," Blackbeard said catching their movements and looked appraisingly at Killian. "I should have guessed, you have the bearing of a coward."

"And you have the bearing of an arrogant ass," Killian said as he stood up straighter and stepped forward. "Unfortunately in your case it seems looks aren't deceiving."

He heard sniggering behind him but didn't turn to look. Instead he crossed his arms and gave Blackbeard a half smile to show that he regarded him as nothing more than a joke. The Brooke might have never been boarded by pirates but he'd had the unpleasant experience before. From what he'd ascertained in the few minutes Blackbeard had been on board Killian knew that the encounter would only end in bloodshed. How much and from whom remained to be seen.

"A coward and a fool!" Blackbeard crowed, his hand coming to rest blatantly on the hilt of his sword. "Wresting this ship from your control will be a hollow victory indeed."

"Your preening boasts will only lead to humiliation. One I'm only happy to provide," Killian shot back, dropping his own hand to his sword but keeping a relaxed pose. "I am, however, willing to let you leave before that happens. It would spare me the trouble of drawing my sword and you the pain of defeat."

"It appears as though you're inviting your own humiliation, Swan, and in front of your crew as well. This is becoming quite the show for my men. They had believed this to be a simple lark, one to reinvigorate their blood after a winter at port. At least for that I'll have to thank you," Blackbeard bowed mockingly, grinning widely at his crew.

Killian was well aware that they were sizing each other up before their swords crossed. While the true test of Blackbeard's skill would have to wait until metal clashed with metal there were things he could already discern. Blackbeard would be a showy fighter. To what degree Killian couldn't be certain but enough of one that he would be able to use it to his advantage. The long overcoat served the dual purpose of being a visual boasting of his ill gained wealth and a as distraction to his opponent when engaged in close combat. Even the knives strapped across his torso gave away that Blackbeard wasn't afraid to take liberties where he could.

"Leave now. Take your men back to your ship and we'll allow you to go without any harm befalling you. This is your final chance to do so," Killian warned.

"Do you think I can be swayed by some threatening words and a crew that's populated by women? Seems I was right about you being a fool," Blackbeard sneered.

"We shall see."

He punctuated his statement with the drawing of his sword. The sibilant sound of the metal being unsheathed hung in the air for a moment, resonant and final, before it was joined by dozens of echoes. Sparing no glances for which swords were raised Killian kept his eyes on Blackbeard, whose amusement had evaporated as a tense silence settled on the deck. A fiery bloodlust had been stoked, it was easy to see in the man's eyes, and yet his sword remained undrawn.

"You're in way over your head, boy," Blackbeard spat on the deck to seemingly drive home the insult. "I offer no mercy. You engage with me and your crew will be nothing but shark bait in the end. Well, most of your crew anyway."

Baring his teeth in a lascivious smile Blackbeard let his eyes roam slowly over the places Killian knew Swan and Red were standing. A red haze blazed across his vision but he controlled his rage, if only by the thinnest of threads. Acting on impulse and emotion was a surefire way of getting himself killed. Blackbeard must have seen something in him, though, because he finally unsheathed his sword and held it out in challenge.

Slowly the circled each other. Killian noted the placement of the others on deck, friend and foe alike. He was aware of their small movements that followed his own: the slight turning of their heads, the points of their swords tracking the one they were sworn against, breaths held as the tension ratcheted up to dizzying heights. He let it all fall away. Distractions could not be afforded in what he now knew would end in something far greater than bloodshed. It was at that moment of realization that Blackbeard made his first move and the fight was on.

The first clash of their swords was quick, barely a tap. Blackbeard was testing him but in doing so allowed Killian to test him back. Immediately he adjusted his grip, he could tell there was definite power behind Blackbeard's swing no matter how light the first hit had been. Immediately his correction was tested as Blackbeard launched his attack. The first few hits were clumsily parried but soon enough Killian found his footing in the fight.

Blackbeard was an excellent swordsman. Killian would have been impressed if he wasn't fighting for his life. There was a hint of formal training roughened by years of piracy as they moved about the deck trading blows. All around them swords were singing but Killian had no attention to spare as to which side was prevailing.

He maneuvered Blackbeard toward the prow of the ship but his feet slipped in blood splashed across the deck causing him to stumble. Blackbeard elbowed him in the face, sending him tumbling backwards his feet flying over his head. Barely able to get upright Killian made desperate swings causing Blackbeard to retreat marginally. Pressing forward he used his imbalance to throw off Blackbeard's own sure footing. The advantage was short lived as Blackbeard stepped sideways and Killian went tripping past him.

They had made their way towards the helm and as Killian righted himself breathing hard he could see that there were a few fallen bodies but the fighting kept on. He caught a glimpse of Swan midship holding her own and felt a sense of panic and awe at her skill. Thompson wasn't far from her at Red's side, having acquired a sword of his own, as they fought three of Blackbeard's crew together. He focused back on Blackbeard and grimly saw that he had drawn a short cutlass while his attention was focused elsewhere.

Circling each other once more Killian forced himself to forget the formal training he'd had at the Academy. He was an excellent swordsman but he'd hadn't had much cause for employing his skills especially against pirates. Only a fool would attack a royal ship and only one of the highest degree would attack one from Balliolshire. His only practice of late had been quick sparring sessions with Thompson, whom he could anticipate his moves as easily as if they were his own. Blackbeard was a challenge, but not an insurmountable one.

"I have to say you're far more spry than I would have guessed," Killian taunted as he carefully sidestepped over a coil of rope. "Rumor had it the years were finally catching up to you."

"Vicious lies, although I believe some rumors have more truth in them than I anticipated," Blackbeard said with a grin as he lunged forward.

Killian acted quickly and kicked the coil of rope into Blackbeard's path. He couldn't pause to decipher what Blackbeard meant as his momentary distraction only gave him a second's reprieve. Their swords met once again, sparks on the verge of flying from the intensity of their hits.

First blood went to Killian. He was able to nick Blackbeard's upper arm, a scratch really, but enough that the red of his coat deepened as the blood soaked through. After that the blows became more intense, with the purpose of maiming or killing the other. Soon Killian and Blackbeard alike were sporting various cuts, dripping blood and sweat onto the deck. Blackbeard had more but Killian had worse, a particularly long gash across his right cheek had his eye constantly watering, blurring his vision and a well aimed knife had rendered his left arm all but useless, but he refused to yield. To yield was to die and condemn the crew of the Brooke with him.

"I must say this has been a far greater pleasure than even I anticipated," Blackbeard huffed, parrying Killian's thrust with his sword. The cutlass had long since been lost. "Not only will the Brooke be mine but I'll have the honor of killing a prince as well."

"What?" Killian's steps faltered as panic flooded through him.

Blackbeard swung high and Killian blocked the hit, his arm and sword overhead. The move brought the pirate close to his face both struggling to overpower the other. Fetid breath fanned over his face as Blackbeard spoke in a low voice.

"I've been sailing these waters for many years," he grinned, showing off yellowed teeth. "You may be wearing the garb of a pirate and sporting the visage of a ruffian but I'd be remiss to not recognize the profile of Prince Killian. After all, I've pilfered many a coin with your likeness on them."

Killian could do nothing more than suck in a breath of surprise because suddenly a sharp pain exploded from his side. Afraid to look down but helpless to do otherwise he saw Blackbeard's hand fisted around the hilt of another one of his knives, the blade unseen deep in his gut. He dropped his sword and the bite of Blackbeard's own weapon into his shoulder was barely felt as he gripped the lapels of Blackbeard's coat to keep himself upright.

"Pity I couldn't collect the reward on your head. The wanted posters specifically requested that you be returned alive. Although the sum I'll be collecting from the Queen substantially makes up for it."

"No," Killian gasped as Blackbeard twisted the knife.

"Did you think it coincidence that our paths crossed? The Brooke is valuable but not as much as the Princess it harbors. Luckily for me the Queen has no qualms about what state Her Royal Highness is returned. Something I plan on enjoying wholeheartedly."

Blackbeard wrenched the knife out and stepped back, letting his sword draw a deeper wound into Killian's shoulder as he did so. He swayed, determined to stay on his feet for the final blow. His only regret was that he wouldn't have a chance to warn Swan, to warn Emma, that her life was in far more immediate danger than they had believed.

"You'll pay for this," Killian spat out, the taste of blood on his lips.

"Perhaps, but you'll be far too dead to see if I do. I'll be sure to let the Queen know not only have I secured the Princess but gotten rid of one of the thorns in her side. This day has been fortuitous indeed," Blackbeard laughed, raising his sword. "And tonight will be even more so."

Blackbeard laughed again but abruptly grunted in surprised pain. He looked down at his chest and Killian followed his gaze. A sword was protruding from below his sternum, angled upwards so the tip pointed towards the sky. The clatter of metal falling to the deck ringed in Killian's ears as Blackbeard's hands shakily went to the bloodstained blade. As it was withdrawn Blackbeard's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell to the stained wood in a boneless heap.

Killian looked up and saw Pinocchio standing before him, bloody sword in hand, before succumbing to his injuries and letting the blackness envelop him.

"Get him to my cabin! Red, keep everyone out and get us the fuck away from here!"

Killian groaned as he felt two pairs of arms lifting him from the deck, his return consciousness abrupt and painful. He let himself drift in a grey wash of pain, the sounds of boots pounding on the deck became muffled as the light behind his eyelids shifted from bright and hot to dark and cool. The yelling of commands and the grunting of the whoever was moving him were the last things he heard as he blacked out again.

"Can you do it?"

"I don't know, but I have to try."

A bright, intense, white light filled his vision as Killian once again surfaced from unconsciousness. He felt tired, limbs heavy, and a buzzing heat was radiating from his side. As it reached a fever pitch he gasped, his eyes flying open in shock as his back bowed off the unforgiving surface he was lying on. He blearily recognized the light blue color of the ceiling above him as the light began to fade and he slumped back down. Turning his head he saw that it originated not from a lantern but from Emma's hands, which were hovering over the disappearing wound in his side that Blackbeard had inflicted.

"Swan?" Killian croaked, his throat drier than kindling at the height of summer.

"Don't talk, you've lost a lot of blood," Emma's voice wavered as she clenched her hands into shaking fists, the light finally going out. "We'll talk about this later."

"Blackbeard?" He asked instead ignoring her instruction and becoming aware that another body was moving about the room.

"Dead," she answered shortly, looking to whomever was with them. "With any luck the Revenge is dead in the water too."

"Good," he sighed, letting his his head loll back to face the ceiling and in doing so noticing the pull of stitches in his cheek.

"You're glad that a man is dead and we've condemned who knows how many of his crew too by leaving them there? Not to mention the ones we lost in the fight!" Emma said pained.

He cleared his throat and was surprised when a hand lifted his head and placed a cup at his lips. As he drank he caught a glimpse of Pinocchio standing over him, opposite of Emma, holding the cup. When he finished Pinocchio retreated but not before giving him a small nod.

"How-" he hesitated, not wanting to know the toll they had suffered. "How many dead?"

"We lost less than Blackbeard's crew I can tell you that," Emma said grimly, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Three by my last count," Pinocchio said quietly. "It would have been four if Emma hadn't gotten to you in time."

Killian closed his eyes in silent prayer for the souls that had been lost. His head was swimming, but from the loss of blood or the revelations that greeted him when he woke he wasn't entirely sure.

"It could have been none if he hadn't stepped in like that," Emma snapped.

His eyes popped open and he sat up abruptly. Killian realized he had been laid out on her desk and his shirt was missing. Heavy linens were wrapped around his shoulder and left arm which were radiating pain as he leaned onto his hands and fought against the faintness he felt. Then Pinocchio slammed the cup down on the table and it crystallized his focus. Tears were coursing down Emma's cheeks but her face was full of fury.

"We had no choice," Pinocchio disagreed hotly as he rounded the desk to stand in front of her.

"There's always a choice! We could have talked to him, made him see that it was better to leave us alone. Something other than killing him," Emma shuddered, wiping her tears roughly from her face.

"This isn't us playing at pirates anymore, Emma. We're at war," Pinocchio said bluntly.

"No, we're not."

"Yes we are! We can't just hide anymore and we can't pretend that everything will just fix itself! It's been ten years and it hasn't happened yet."

"But at what cost, Pinocchio? These are people's lives we're talking about," she said incredulously.

"Hardly innocent ones," Pinocchio shot back.

Killian could see her getting ready to protest further which would only result in more yelling, hurt feelings, and only another go around at the same argument.

"Pinocchio's right, Swan. We cannot afford to be lenient, especially when we engage with the Queen's forces in the future. It's guaranteed she will show us no mercy and we have to be prepared to act accordingly," he said it with a gentle force but a ripple of pain still crossed her features.

He slumped down as his strength gave out, the last of his limited energy exhausted. Swan's hand twitched as though she wanted to reach for him but thought better of it. Pinocchio sighed and moved to help him, slinging his uninjured arm over his shoulder and guiding him to the bed. With a grunt of effort on both their parts he settled in only feeling a moment's regret that he was commandeering Emma's quarters for his own. The pain of his injuries and fatigue doused his worry effectively.

Emma was watching them when he looked at her. Her gaze was darting between them full of pain, anger, and flashes of concern as his breathing evened out. Pinocchio glared at her defiantly almost challenging her to pick their argument back up. Without another word she stormed from the room letting the door slam closed behind her.

Pinocchio sighed and Killian let his eyes slide shut. His arm, shoulder and cheek were throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A shaky breath left him as he tried to block his mind from the pain. In its stead an image of Emma came to him: one of her blonde tresses flying in the wind, a sword in her hand and grinning as though she owned the world. The vision was shattered when Pinocchio pressed his fingers onto the wound on his arm sending a sharp pain radiating down to his fingers and up through his shoulder where it aggravated the wound there.

"Watch it, mate" Killian hissed through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," he answered not sounding sorry at all, "but these need stitches. I was only able to stanch the bleeding and you're starting to soak through the bandages. Here, drink this."

He held up a flask and Killian took it warily as Pinocchio stepped away and started gathering tools. Bringing the flask to his nose he breathed in the warm spicy scent of rum and was surprised to feel that it was almost full. He took a tentative sip. It slid down his throat easily, no harsh burn of cheap spirits, leading him to believe he had been given a portion of the personal stash of rum kept for the captain and her officers.

"Drink as much as you can stomach, then bite down on this," Pinocchio said as he stepped back up to the bed, holding out a folded strap of leather. "We can't help this getting messy but we can at least keep the screaming to a minimum."

Killian grimaced as he took a long pull from the flask. He was no stranger to being stitched up but it never became any easier to endure. When there was only a sip or two left he inserted the leather between his teeth and nodded once at Pinocchio, ready as he'd ever be.

There was no screaming but it was a close thing. Killian feared at one point he'd bite clear through the leather, especially when Pinocchio added extra stitches to the cut on his cheek. At the end of it he was dripping in sweat and shaking, cursing Blackbeard all over again around the obstacle in his mouth.

"Done," Pinocchio announced as he snipped the thread and wiped his own sweat from his brow. "You'll have scars but you won't bleed to death now."

"Wonderful, why couldn't Swan just wave her hands over me and be done with it?" Killian gasped out tipping the last of the rum in the flask on his dry tongue with an unsteady hand.

"Don't breathe a word of what she can do to anyone," Pinocchio growled wrenching the flask from Killian's hand. "Do you understand?"

Killian narrowed his eyes, taken aback by the sudden ferociousness. It took only a moment more for him to recognize what it was and he thought himself a fool for not recognizing it before. Pinocchio was being more than protective, acting almost aggressive in the shift of his behavior towards him. They were classic signs of a classic ailment.

"You're in love with her," he marveled, tipping his head to look at the man in the light of that realization.

Pinocchio glared at him, a red flush creeping up from his neck. He breathed through his nose and Killian waited for the litany of denials to fall from his lips.

"Of course I am," Pinocchio said derisively, as though it was no great secret. "You're halfway there yourself."

If he hadn't lost so much blood Killian was sure it would have been pooling in his cheeks. Pinocchio graced him with a withering smile.

"Get some rest. You'll need it."

He strode from the room, leaving Killian to stew in what he implied and gritting his teeth against the waves of pain from his injuries. All save the one that should have killed him.

Before he could dwell on it and what Emma had done Thompson came bursting through the door. His hair was matted down to his head on one side with hastily wiped away blood and he was favoring one leg but otherwise seemed unharmed. He rushed up to Killian and stared at him wildly until his mind seemed to accept what he was seeing before him.

"You're a right ass you know that?" He breathed out finally.

"Why? Because I put myself in harms way or because I came to harm?" Killian asked lightly as he watched Thompson drag a chair to the side of the bed.

"Because you're going to get me killed one way or another," he answered, sitting down. "Either you'll drag me into something where I won't make it out or Liam will have my head for letting you drag me into something we should have left well enough alone. It's a no win situation for me."

"Lighten up, Tommy, we're still breathing," Killian sighed at the dramatics, grinning all the while.

"Barely," Thompson grumbled. "I wager Swan's pissed at you."

"She is."

"I'm pissed at you, too, for the record."

"Duly noted," Killian nodded. He steeled himself, "Who did we lose?"

"Two deckhands, Wilson and that young one Smitts. They didn't stand a chance," Thompson answered softly.

"Who else?"

Thompson hesitated and Killian braced himself even more.

"Doc," Thompson said sadly. "He, uh, thought he could take on one of Blackbeard's more burly sailors. His brothers have been holding vigil over him since they found him. It's a hard sight to see."

Killian let out a shaky breath. He hadn't had much dealings with the dwarf but Doc had been kind to him when they had interacted. From what he understood dwarves had a bond that ran deeper than mere brotherhood and his heart ached for their grief.

"Anyone else injured?" He asked after a moment of silence, born out of respect and acceptance of what had happened.

"Mostly minor cuts and bruises, nothing as bad as what you suffered, Kil," Thompson shook his head. "Thought I'd lost you there for a moment."

"You can't get rid of me that easily. We've still got some glory to attain and I owe you a ship," Killian joked to cover the lump in his throat.

"Too right you do," Thompson said with a slight waver, seemingly just as affected. He cleared his throat gruffly, "You should get some rest. I don't doubt Swan will kick you out of these luxurious accommodations once you stop looking like Death is your bedmate."

"Is that your way of saying I'm not my dashing handsome self?" Killian grinned and then winced as the motion pulled at his stitches.

"I'm saying you look like shit. Alive but truly awful to look at."

"Thanks," he grimaced.

"You're welcome," Thompson settled deeper into the chair, propping his legs up on the bed. "Get some sleep because I for one am taking advantage of Swan's orders to keep an eye on you."

"Glad she's finally given you a task you don't hate," Killian said tiredly. The rum and his exhaustion finally pulling him towards the shores of sleep.

"Couldn't hate it if I tried," Thompson replied but if he said anything else it was lost as Killian closed his eyes and let himself drift away.

When he woke next the cabin was fully dark. He was still on his back and he could feel the stiffness in his left side from keeping it immobilized, even in sleep. Groaning quietly he moved to sit up trying not to disturb Thompson. He needed to get out of the position he had been lying in for hours. Suddenly he felt a hand helping him, one that was smaller and softer than Thompson's and the warmth it left in its wake left him with no illusions as to whom it belonged.

"Swan?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

Instead of answering she placed a cup in his hand. He brought it to his lips and was gratified to taste water instead of more rum. His head had started pounding and the cool liquid felt like a balm as he swallowed.

Killian could barely make out her form as she sat down in the chair Thompson had occupied when he had fallen asleep. He was about to suggest lighting a lamp when she started talking and he could immediately tell he was to listen and not interrupt.

"One of the things constantly drilled into me by my mother was that everyone deserved a chance, a choice. It could be a farmer that was behind on his taxes or a man who killed someone over a petty disagreement. They should be treated fairly no matter how they ended up where they were. My father didn't always agree but he understood and tried to get me to do the same when I questioned some of their rulings.

"I guess I didn't realize how hard it would be to realize that sometimes fairness can't apply to everyone. My mother realized it with Regina, banishing her and getting protection from the Dark One against her. I'm not saying what Pinocchio did to Blackbeard was right or deserved but he told me what he'd overheard, the threats Blackbeard made. He'd made his choice and Pinocchio had to make one too."

She took in a shuddering breath. Killian waited a moment to see if she would go on. When she didn't he shifted himself so his legs hung over the side of the bed and he was situated closer to her.

"Making tough decisions is part of who you are. It comes with being a leader, whether it be of a crew of a couple dozen or a land with several thousand subjects. I'm not aware of what tutors you had or what lessons you were taught but it's easy to see that you will be a formidable but just queen. Having said that there are times where being tenderhearted is not an option. I'm only sorry you've had to find out this way."

Emma scoffed but didn't move from the chair or refute his claim. They both remained quiet, lost in thought. Finally Killian hazard to ask the question that had been plaguing him since he came to in her quarters.

"You have magic?"

"Born with it," she said, trying to affect indifference but he could hear the wariness in her voice.

"It's quite handy it would seem," he said in the same casual tone.

"Right," she huffed but he saw her form relax marginally. "A lot of good it did me today."

"But it did," Killian retorted confused.

"Do you know why we've never been boarded before?" She asked but didn't wait for him to answer. "I usually cloak the ship when we're in dangerous waters or if we spot a ship in time that we know we can't outrun."

"I should have warned you sooner," Killian breathed remorsefully.

"And I shouldn't have let my guard down in waters we haven't sailed before. The Revenge came on us too quickly and we probably would have had the same outcome even if we'd had more time. I don't blame you and I don't blame myself but people are dead and we have to live with that," her head dropped as her breathing wavered.

"What about your magic? Surely it's helpful in a fight?" Killian asked, fighting the urge to comfort her in some way with more than mere words.

"It's unreliable, especially when my emotions are getting the better of me," she laughed self derisively. "I was only taught how to control my magic, not how to really use it. Blue said we'd get to it eventually. Turns out Regina wouldn't let me get to that point."

"She knows you have magic?"

"No, but I think she suspects it. I've been able to evade her for ten years and I could only do that if I had some kind of magic on my side. Sending you and your brother after me just proved that she can't do anything with her own magic to find me. A small consolation to what I can do I guess," she took a deep breath. "Anyway that's all of my sad little story you'll get tonight. I'm sorry I couldn't heal your other cuts but…"

She trailed off and then stood, shifting awkwardly on her feet.

"Don't worry, love, I've had worse," he grinned, hoping she could see part of it in the dimly lit cabin.

"I'm sure," she laughed, it was quiet but genuine. "You should go back to sleep. I shouldn't have rambled so much."

"I'm glad that you did," he said quietly.

"Me too," she whispered back.

She stepped back from him, as though afraid he would try to reach for her and walked towards the door. Before she could open it, however, he spoke.

"Thank you, Emma, for saving my life."

"You're welcome," she pulled open the door and then turned to speak over he shoulder, "Killian."

She slipped out of the cabin and pulled the door closed behind her. Killian laid back down, the pain from his wounds nothing compared to the warmth he felt coursing through him. Pinocchio was wrong. He wasn't halfway towards loving Emma, he was already there and he had the feeling that she was tumbling down with him.

A.N.: I don't know diddly squat about sword fighting so I hope I made it seem somewhat thrilling. I almost wanted to re-read the fight between Inigo and Wesley but didn't want it to influence how Blackbeard and Killian's fight went.

Next: Killian recovers, things are revealed, and Arendelle is spotted on the horizon.