Warning: Mild descriptions of dead bodies.

I own nothing except my delusions.

They arrived back at the Jolly Roger to find the crew in pandemonium. Emma shared a dark look with Killian just as Curry spotted them, rushing forward to meet them. She noticed with a start the long cut on his shoulder, as well as some other smaller cuts.

"Captain," Curry said urgently, "we encountered some of Blackbeard's men. We got everyone on board, but-" he stopped to swallow heavily. "There were some fatalities."

"Who?" Killian asked in a strained voice.

"Mortimer and Talbot," Curry said sadly, leading them towards where most of the crew had converged. The men parted to allow them through to the center where two bodies laid out on the rain slicked deck. Murphy, wearing marks of his own fight, stood close by, holding two shrouds to cover the corpses.

"Don't look," Killian told Emma in a low, urgent voice. He quickly grabbed onto her, turning her so that she wouldn't have to see the bodies on the deck.

Despite the brief glimpse she saw the men, Emma felt bile rising in her throat. Mortimer, one of their sailors who would frequently talk to Emma, laid out stark white on the deck, having bled out from the deep gash on his throat. Talbot, one of the ships slightly newer members, layed with his stomach opened, exposing his organs. Emma was thankful that their eyes were closed.

She knew that despite the brief second she saw them, she would forever carry the image with her. She had seen bodies before, Killian had even just killed Campbell earlier in their fight, but she had never seen such brutality in the cause of death.

Carefully turning her head so as not to see the still forms of Mortimer and Talbot, she looked at Killian. His eyes were glued to the bodies, his expression unreadable.

"Sir?" Murphy asked, waiting for orders.

Killian remained silent.

Giving Killian a worried look, she spoke to Murphy. "Cover them."

She heard Murphy move before she heard the sounds of the shrouds being unfolded and placed over the fallen bodies. She carefully peeked behind her, seeing the white shrouds in place.

"Orders, Emma?" Curry asked her, knowing well as she did that Killian wasn't going to respond.

Emma glanced at each of the men before looking out toward the sea. She glanced back at Curry.

"We need to leave. Now," she told him. "Can we set sail?"

"Aye," he responded.

She glanced at Lewis, who stood a short distance away, a light gash in his cheek. "Lewis, are you fit to man the helm?"

Lewis nodded at her. "Yes."

Nodding, she turned her eyes back to the crew, raising her voice. "Everyone injured, go to Smith! Everyone else, to your positions! We're leaving now!"

The crew quickly scrambled at her orders, all moving to get the ship out of port.

"You heard her, prepare to weigh anchor!" Curry shouted to get them to move faster.

Murphy moved to stand beside her, letting her see the shallow cut on his brow. He spoke in a low voice. "Emma, what about Mortimer and Talbot?"

She glanced at Killian, seeing he was still impassive. Looking back at Murphy, she dropped her voice so only he and Curry would hear amidst the chaos. "We'll bury them at sea tomorrow, once we're a good distance away from this place."

Both the men nodded, accepting her answer.

She shifted her eyes to Curry, particularly the cut along his shoulder. "You should get that looked at."

Curry shook his head. "I will, but I'm fine for now. It looks worse than it is."

She nodded. "Okay." She glanced over at Killian again before looking back at the men before her. "Can you handle things up here?"

Curry knew what she needed to do. "Yeah, I've got things covered."

Murphy nodded. "Don't worry, lass. We'll take care of it."

"Thanks," she responded.

Emma turned to Killian as they went away. She gently tugged his arm, keeping her voice soft. "Killian? C'mon Killian. You have to move."

He blinked, turning his head to her, focusing his attention on her.

She tugged his arm, pulling him with her to the quarter deck and down the hatch to their cabin. Letting him descend first, she closed the hatch above them.

Turning, she saw that he had shed his coat and was moving around, gathering some bandages and water, having already lit one of the lanterns.

"Come here," he told her, gently pulling her hand in his toward their bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked him as she sat across from him.

He gently lifted her left hand, placing it on his lap as he carefully untied the scarf. "Taking care of your hand."

She looked at him curiously, wondering how he was now caring for her when he was catatonic mere moments ago.

He removed the scarf to reveal the angry red cut. Soaking a rag, he carefully began to wipe away the blood from her hand.

She took a deep breath. "Killian?"

He looked up at her, continuing the ministrations on her hand. She could have easily healed herself with her magic, but knew he needed to do this for her.

"What was that?" she asked him softly. "It was like you weren't even there."

"Apologies, love," he replied, hiding. "Though if it does help, you commanded the crew marvelously."

"Killian," she pressed.

He sighed deeply, looking down at her palm. "It's my fault."

"What?" she asked him.

"It's my fault they're dead," he replied, looking up, letting her see the guilt, self-loathing, and touch of fear in his eyes. "All because of something I did three decades ago. Blackbeard's men went after mine in a fit of revenge because of my actions."

He used his hook to hold her hand up as he began to wrap one of the bandages around it. "If I hadn't of killed my father, Mortimer and Talbot would still be alive. I wouldn't have the boy I orphaned out seeking revenge on me, and taking it out on anyone close to me. I wouldn't have to be afraid that he will come after you to get to me, that he'll hurt you."

Gently, he lifted her hand to tie off the bandage as he had the scarf. When he finished, he rested her hand back on his lap. "Out there, it became too much. I'm sorry I couldn't handle it."

Emma lifted her other hand to touch his face. Her voice was gentle. "You don't have to apologize for that. It's a lot to handle. And this isn't your fault. None of this is."

"Swan, the boy I left alone, my father's son, became a pirate and vowed revenge against me because of something I did," he responded in a broken voice. "Two of my men died, and others got hurt, including you."

He gently took her hand in his, turning it over and tenderly running his thumb across her knuckles.

She looked at him, wanting nothing more than to erase his pain. "You may have done that, but you didn't make him into what he is. He chose to become a pirate and live for revenge. He chose to come after you. He chose to go after your crew. No matter what you've done, Killian, his actions and decisions are his own. And this is nothing." She gestured to her hand. "This is from mistaking an opponent in a fight. And Blackbeard's men were the ones that decided to attack the crew, not you."

"No, this," he nodded towards her injured hand, "is the result of a coward's maneuver to try to beat you by sabotage in a fight they couldn't win on their own."

She gave him a weak smile.

"I'm sorry, Swan," he said, the broken tone remaining in his voice. "I promised you I would fight, and I almost didn't. I just didn't want to fight my brother, especially when I made him that way."

She began to caress his cheek with her thumb, keeping her voice gentle. "But you did fight back. You kept your promise. And I understand, I really do."

"I almost didn't," he said in a quiet voice.

"But you did," she reminded him. "None of this is your fault."

He gave her a weak smile before he leaned down, tenderly kissing her hand.

Moving aside the remaining bandages, Emma moved to scoot closer to him, removing her hand from his grasp to rest it on his shoulder as she kissed him. She felt his love and desperation as Killian kissed her back, pulling her closer to him. She let him take control as he deepened the kiss, feeling that he needed this. If she were honest, after everything that had just happened, she needed it, too.

Finally breaking apart, Killian rested his head against hers, feeling each others breath fanning across their faces.

"I'm going to offer the crew leave," he told her in a heavy voice after a while. "I don't want anymore of my men at risk because Blackbeard's after me. Those that will want to leave will be free to go."

"Do you think anyone will leave?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he told her quietly.

"When are you going to offer them?" she asked curiously.

"Tomorrow after the burials," he answered with a sigh. "Well stop at Port Bellamy for a day, and whoever wants to leave can."

She looked up at him, sensing he wasn't saying something, but decided not to push him anymore.

He shifted his head so his cheek rested against hers, his chin on her shoulder. She moved her own head against his while her fingers began to card through his hair.

"You should rest," she told him quietly as she felt him relax under her touch.

He nodded sluggishly. "I will. I should go up and make sure everything is running okay up there."

"Curry's got it," Emma said as she slightly tightened her grip in him. "The men are fine. We're getting out of here, and we'll leave this place behind us soon enough."

Releasing a breath, he relented. "Alright, Swan."

She smiled, though he couldn't see it. "Good."

He pulled away, grabbing the rest of the supplies to bandage her hand and putting them away. She stood with him to help him, glancing out the large window as she went. She saw with satisfaction that Port Teach was quickly falling behind then, the harbor shrinking in the distance.

Finishing their task, she grabbed her chemise to change into for sleep. As comfortable as she was in pants, she still didn't prefer to sleep in them. Not looking forward to being exposed to the chill of the cabin, she quickly stripped and slipped on the garment, folding and storing her previous outfit.

Grabbing Killian's discarded scarf, she examined it, trying to see if the item was salvageable in the low lantern light. Finding it wasn't too bad, she placed it near the trunk for their cloths to try to clean it the next day.

Emma looked up at him just in time to see Killian shrugging of his shirt, slightly wincing when he flexed the muscles in his hand after.

"You okay?" she asked him, checking him over for injuries again.

"I'm fine, love," he replied, shaking his head as he walked over and sat on their bed. "Just a little cramp."

She quickly sat beside him before he had a chance to lay down, reaching to take his hand in hers. "Let me see your hand."

"It's fine, love," he told her, shaking his head. "It happens from time to time."

"Please, Killian," she said softly. "You took care of me. Now let me take care of you."

Releasing a breath, Killian relented, turning slightly so that she could have better access to his hand. She placed it on her lap, carefully beginning to knead her fingers into his joints. She felt the muscles relax as she massaged them.

"Thank you, Swan," he said, watching her as she worked. "I'm... I'm still not used to anyone wanting to take care of me."

She glanced up to meet his eyes, smiling gently. "It's no problem. I want to take care of you, especially when you're hurting."

Emma's smile widened when he closed his eyes contently, further relaxing under her touch.

"Better?" she asked when she finished.

"Much," he answered. "Thank you, love."

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. "I love you."

He smiled, a genuine smile, some of the light finally returning in his eyes. "I love you, too."

Giving him one last smile, she pulled away enough so they could both settle to lay down before Killian pulled her to his chest, resting his hand on her back.

Burying her face into his shoulder, Emma quickly fell asleep, but not before feeling Killian tighten his hold on her, as though he was afraid she would be taken away from him.

Author's note: To the guest that asked if Emma and Killian will ever see Snow and David face to face, yes, they will, as well as the rest of her family. They actually have made plans to see her parents, but because of Blackbeard and something else that's going on that they currently don't know about, when they do see her parents, the circumstances are much less favorable than they hoped for.

Teaser: "It's asinine," she countered.

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