A/N: Hey, I'm sorry it took so long :( Writers Block killed me at various points through this chapter, and real life caught up with me... Anyway, here it is.
I cried out in pain, and Hook fell to the pavement next to me. His eyes were wild and detached as he cradled my head in his lap.
"Milah." He whispered, and Emma, who had dropped on my other side, looked at him, confused.
"We have to get her to the hospital." She seemed to shake off her confusion, and her voice was calm as she pulled a phone out of her pocket. Hook's eyes were still distant. She talked into the phone briskly before snapping it shut and pulling her jacket off. She pressed the jacket to the wound and I moaned as fresh pain exploded in my shoulder.
"It's ok." Emma said quietly, trying to sooth my pain filled whimpers. Hook gently brushed his fingers over my cheek, humming something. My hands were still tied, but no one seemed to notice. Sirens approached, and some paramedics rushed over, lifting me onto a stretcher. That's when I blacked out.
Why had Hook looked like that when he was faced with the prospect of imminent death?
Why had the feeling inside me bloomed at that moment?
Why had I jumped in front of Hook, taking a bullet?
Why had he called me Milah?
Why did he look as though he was in some far-off place, in another time?
These were the thoughts that swirled through my head when I woke. I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to leave the blissfully peaceful darkness. I could feel soft sheets beneath me, a warm blanket covering me. For some reason, there wasn't any pain in my shoulder, even though I clearly remembered the searing sensation that had been there earlier. I could still feel the rope on my wrists, too. Nothing would fit together properly. If my hands were still bound, why didn't my shoulder hurt? Did any of that actually just happen? My breath hitched in my throat as I heard a door open and footsteps tap against the ground lightly. A deep sigh told me the person who had walked in was feminine.
"I wasn't going to shoot you, you know." She said, and I recognised Emma's voice. How did she know I was awake? Unless… Another voice answered, from the other side of the room.
"Oh, no, you were just going to throw the bullet into my chest." Hook's voice was tired, resignation prominent in his tone. I felt more then heard my breathing quicken, becoming shallow. He was in the room.
"I was aiming for the place beside you. Believe me, it wasn't going to hit you. And it wouldn't have hit you either, if you hadn't jumped in the way. I know you're awake." Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, blinded for a few seconds by the bright lights. I looked at Emma apologetically. She was regarding me with slight disapproval in her eyes, but there was amusement there too. I wiggled my arms out from beneath the blanket, moving them up to my shoulder. There was no pain, but there was a ragged hole in my shirt. It made no sense – There wasn't even a blemish on my skin. Not one that I could feel, anyway.
"Why…" I started in confusion.
"You remember when we were telling you about magic and Mr Gold? You got your proof." Emma explained.
"Yes, yes, now we've explained, can I please get some peace and quiet?" Hook's drawling voice came from across the room. I glanced over at him. His face was bloody, his good hand chained to the bed with handcuffs. Emma gave him a disapproving look, obviously annoyed at him.
"What happened to him?" I asked, shifting my gaze back to Emma. Hook cut in, wincing as he changed his position.
"Your dear boyfriend beat me up. That Goddamned cane hurts." He winced again. Emma sighed.
"Mr Gold got angry when he saw you. He beat up Hook, then healed you. The magic he used was strong, so you were left unconscious for a while. The whole night, actually." My brows pinched together.
"Where is he?" Emma took her bottom lip between her teeth before answering.
"Right outside."