I own nothing except my delusions.

Waking up wrapped in Killian's embrace, Emma nestled closer into his warm body, wanting to stay in their bed as long as she could. She felt him shift, knowing he was awake.

"Morning," she said, peeking up at him.

"Morning," he replied, pressing his lips to her forehead, his scruff rough on her skin.

She could instantly tell he was tense, no doubt thinking about what he was about to offer the crew, after the burials for Mortimer and Talbot. She tightened her arm that was wrapped around him, gently drawing circles on his back with her fingers.

He sighed. "I need to speak to the crew."

She nodded. "I know. We should probably get up."

Emma sat up, his arms releasing her, turning and retrieving her blue dress, dressing as Killian got up and grabbed his own cloths. After quickly combing through her hair, she patiently waited as he applied his kohl before he pulled on his coat.

Taking his hand in hers, she walked beside him to the galley.

Killian was quiet throughout most of the morning meal, but Emma was thankful that it wasn't like the previous night.

If she were honest with herself, she was deeply worried about him. She knew he had a tendency to carry the weight of things that weren't his fault on his shoulders, a trait that he pointed out that she herself shared.

She remained by his side the whole time, leaving with him to stand close by at the helm when they finished their meal, and even as the crew prepared to bury the fallen men at sea.

"Are you ready?" she asked him as they watched the crew lay out Mortimer and Talbot, both covered in their shrouds by the gunwhale, large wooden boards resting beside them. The ship gently rocked on the waves as it stopped to let them perform the burial.

"Yeah," he told her in a heavy voice, drawing her hand from where it was nestled in her cloak. She squeezed his hand, relieved when he returned the pressure.

He led them to where all of most of the men had gathered around, the few that weren't setting the crimson flag at half mast. As soon as they had stepped forward, they began the final prayers for the deceased, but Emma didn't hear a word of it.

She kept her eyes on the shrouds, feeling Killian's hand in hers. Her imagination running wild, she saw the images of some of the other crew members under the shrouds, their weapons placed on top of the coverings. She fought against each image, until the worst came, imagining Killian, still and cold in his shroud, his cutlass laying over his chest.

She felt Killian's hand tighten around hers to calm her down, grounding her to him, sensing her becoming more and more upset. She returned the pressure when he discretely brushed his lips over the top of her hair.

The knell of the funeral bell rang through the air, making Emma focus on the funeral in time to see Mortimer and Talbot lifted and placed in the water, the atmosphere around the crew solemn.

Before the crew could disperse, Killian called their attention.

"As we all know, Blackbeard attacked us last night at that port," he said in an authoratative voice. "We just buried two of our own. We all know the threat Blackbeard poses."

Emma gently squeezed his hand, offering him her full support. Her eyes scanned the crew, watching for their reactions.

"And as of last night, I know why he wants revenge," he continued, his voice never wavering. "My father left behind a son, the boy orphaned when I killed him. That boy, my half-brother, grew up to become the man vying for revenge against me."

Various emotions crossed the men's faces, but all showed their shock at Killian's admission.

Killian took a breath before going on. "Blackbeard will not stop until one of us is dead. He will attack and kill whoever he can to try to get to me. I don't wish for any more of the blood of my crew to be spilled. Which is why I'm offering everyone leave. We are to stop at Port Bellamy, and any man who wishes to leave is free to. They will not be thought a coward or a deserter in any way, and there will be no harsh feelings. What ever your choices are, they will be respected. We will arrive within a week, so you have until then to decide if you wish to leave."

After one last glance at the crew, he gently squeezed Emma's hand before he releasing it and turning to leave, going to the hatch on the quarter deck and descending into the cabin.

Emma watched as the crew slowly recovered from their shock. One of the first to recover, Curry, approached her.

"Is Captain Jones serious?" he asked her. "Is Blackbeard really his brother?"

"Yeah," she answered in a heavy tone.

"And he's really allowing the crew to leave?" he pressed.

"Yeah," she repeated. "Hook thinks its his fault that Mortimer and Talbot died, and he doesn't want to risk anyone else."

Curry gave her a look of disbelief. "But it was Blackbeard's men that killed them."

"I know," she responded. She sighed. "I'm going to go down with him, make sure he's okay."

He nodded. "Of course, lass. I've got it handled up here."

"Thanks," she replied, giving him a small smile as she turned to follow Killian's path to their cabin.

Upon entering, she found him slumped in the armchair, his coat thrown carelessly on the bunk and his flask in hand. His hair was mussed from him running his hand through it.

"Hey," she greeted.

He looked up at her. "Hey. Sorry, love. I just..."

She shook her head, her voice soft as she moved next to him. "No, it's okay. I'm pretty sure you're entitled to get upset."

He offered her a weak smile in return.

"The crew was pretty surprised at your offer," she told him as she moved closer to him.

He nodded, taking a swig of rum before offering her the flask. "I had a feeling they would be."

Taking the flask, Emma took a small drink before handing it back to him. Instead of taking the flask, he drew her to him, letting her nestle beside him in the chair. She undid her cloak, draping it over the back of the chair as she leaned into his side. He draped his hooked arm over her shoulders.

They were mostly quiet as she sat beside him, just taking comfort in each other's presence, exchanging the flask between them, but Emma knew something was still troubling Killian. Instead of prying, she decided to let him talk about whatever it was when he was ready. They remained where they were even as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the cabin in darkness.

Flicking her wrist, she made a couple small flames ignite the lanterns, softly illuminating the room in a yellow light. As soon as she rested her head back on its spot on Killian's shoulder, McCullen stopped by to deliver their evening meals.

Killian remained quiet through their meal, and Emma's nerves rose with each passing second. Finally, when they had both finished, her resolve broke.

"Killian, what's wrong?" she asked him in a worried tone. "You've been quiet all day."

He rose up, beginning to pace, running his hand through his hair.

He took a deep breath before he began. "Swan, when we reach Port Bellamy, you should leave and return home."

Feeling like all of the air had been taken from her lungs, Emma looked at him, stunned. "What?"

"Blackbeard knows to go after you to get to me," he told her, stopping and turning to face her. "You're a target. Last night they tried to hurt you because you were with me. It would be safer for you if you left."

"You expect me to just leave you?" she asked, anger beginning to creep into her voice.

"To keep you safe, yes," he responded, pain in his eyes.

She stood up, turning to face him full on, crossing her arms over her chest. "You honestly think I'll be safer if I was away from you? That instead of staying together, like we promised each other, it would be better for us to separate, where I would have no idea what the hell happened to you, on the chance that Blackbeard may decide to come after me? You said it right after the second time we saw his men, I'm already a target. What's to stop them from finding me on the off chance that that I do leave you?"

"I'm his target," he argued. "He'll come after me. I know more than anyone how it feels to be consumed by the need for revenge. And it won't matter what happens to me, as long as you're safe."

"No!" she nearly yelled, her temper rising. "This is about you thinking you don't deserve to be happy, to have your happy ending. You're afraid that Blackbeard will take that from you, because you still believe that you don't deserve it, so you'd rather get rid of it yourself."

"I can't lose you!" he exclaimed desperately, his eyes betraying his pain. "I can't risk losing you! I would rather you're off somewhere safe, away from me, than here on this bloody ship with a knife to our throats. After everything I've ever done, I know there is a great chance that you could be taken from me. I've done too much."

She shook her head, biting her lip as she felt the sting in her eyes of tears threatening to spill over. Her quiet voice was shaky. "It doesn't matter how much I love you, Killian. It doesn't matter how much I believe you're a good man and deserve happiness, that I've forgiven you for what you've done. You need to believe yourself that you deserve to be happy. You need to forgive yourself."

Giving him one last glance, she turned and walked out of their quarters into the corridor of the ship. She blinked away the tears that threatened to spill, not wanting to cry. She wanted to go to where she felt the safest, in Killian's arms, but she knew that wasn't an option now.

Not paying attention to where she was going, she found herself at the galley. Pushing the door open, she expected it to have completely cleared out at the late hour, but spotted McCullen and Curry sitting in their spots at the benches having a conversation, their teasing arguments absent as they talked about what sounded like Killian's offer for leave. They looked up when she opened the door, their expressions worried when they saw her.

"Emma, is everything all right?" McCullen asked urgently, moving to rise from his seat.

"Yeah, it's fine," she said, waving him off. "I'm sorry, I thought the galley would be empty. I'll leave you two alone."

"Lass, you're more than welcome in here whenever you wish," McCullen told her. "You don't have to leave."

Watching as she stood in the doorway, Curry motioned for her to join them. "You're welcome to join us, Emma. We were just having a drink."

Huffing out a breath, Emma stalked to her spot on the bench, settling down. She decided she could use a drink.

McCullen set out a glass for her, which Curry filled with the bottle resting beside them.

"Now, what brings you seeking the solitude of the galley at this hour?" he asked after he set the rum bottle back on the table.

She sighed, grabbing the glass and taking a drink, her brow furrowed. Her voice was low when she spoke. "Hook wants me to leave the Jolly Roger. He wants me to leave, telling me that it would be better if I left than risk Blackheard coming after me."

McCullen and Curry exchanged a look before the former rested his attention back on her. "So he wants you to leave so you'll be safe?"

Emma blew out a hard breath through her nose. "He doesn't think he deserves to be happy, and he even told me that I'm his happy ending. He thinks that it's better if I just leave and he be on his own, instead of facing Blackbeard together."

"So he's worried that he'll lose his happy ending, so he wants you to leave so that that won't happen?" Curry asked. "It's... believable."

"It's asinine," she countered.

Both men hid their grins.

Her voice became exasperated as she continued. "It's just- I don't want us to be separated. And he's worried that I'm a target because I'm with him. I can't just leave him and go back to my old life, not having any idea what's happened to him."

Because he's my happy ending, too, she tought.

McCullen nodded, his face growing pensive. His tone was gentle, comforting. "Emma, do you remember what I told you before when Blackbeard's men came after you the second time?"

She nodded, remembering the day clearly.

"The Captain has already lost two people he cared about," he reminded her. "He'd rather be by himself, alone, with you safe instead of with him, always having to look over your shoulder for a threat. He loves you too much to want that life for you."

"He's right, lass," Curry added. "As happy as he's been, he would sacrifice that happiness if it meant you were safe. And I agree with you that he is afraid that he'll lose that happiness, so he's acting this way out of that fear. Captain Jones loves you, he doesn't want what happened to his brother and Milah to happen to you."

Emma sighed, feeling guilty. "I understand that, but him trying to force me away won't make it any better. I could still be a target any way. I love him too much to abandon him to this. I can't let him face this on his own."

Curry nodded while McCullen gave her one of his warm smiles.

"I think you two have some things to talk about," McCullen told her, encouragingly.

Offering them a weak smile, she glanced between the men, defeated. "I think you're both right. And I do kind of understand what he wants. But I can't leave him, I just can't."

She glanced at her glass, quickly downing the remaining rum before rising up.

"Thanks, both of you," she said to them, gratefully.

They both nodded.

"Any time, lass," McCullen responded. "Just remember you can talk to us whenever you need to."

She nodded once before turning, exiting into the dark maze of the ship. She quietly made her way back, careful not to disturb the sleeping crew. She knew she'd been harsh, but just like he didn't want to lose her, she didn't want to lose him. She couldn't leave him alone, she loved him too much.

Reaching the door to the captain's quarters, she drew in a deep breath before pushing open the door carefully.

The cabin was dark, all lights extinguished. She quickly spied Killian in bed, turned away from her. She knew he was awake, seeing his timed breaths, waiting up for her. She felt her heart flutter, both touched and nervous.

She quickly undressed until she was just in her underclothes. Careful not to expose him to the chilled air, she carefully slid into their small bed, moving until her front was pressed against his back. She pressed her lips to his shoulder blade.

"I'm sorry," she said softly into his skin.

He shifted away from her, Emma feeling a pang or rejection until he rolled over so that he was facing her, their chests pressed together. His hand moved to rest on her cheek.

"Swan, you have no need to apologize," he told her. "What you said was true."

She shook her head, resting her hand on his side. "No, what I said was a low blow."

"But still true," he responded. "And I'm sorry, too, Swan. You were right. I still didn't believe that I deserve my happy ending. You've taught me that all sins can be forgiven when somebody loves you. And... it is time that I learn to begin to forgive myself."

She smiled, hopeful. "So does this mean that you're going to let yourself be happy?"

"Yes," he responded, returning her smile.

Leaning towards him, Emma brought her lips to his, pouring all the love she could into the kiss, which Killian eagerly returned.

"I'm just afraid I'll lose you," he told her, leaning his head against hers. "I've already lost Liam and Milah, two people I love. I can't lose you too, Emma."

"You won't," she promised him. "As long as we're together, you won't lose me."

He nodded, his skin brushing hers.

She bit her lip before she continued. "And I can't lose you either. I love you, more than anything. I can't leave you."

He looked at her, silently asking, knowing she had more to say.

"You told me that I'm your happy ending," Emma said, love in her voice. "You're my happy ending, too, Killian."

Killian reached forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, whispering his love for her. She held him close, carding her fingers through his dark hair, not wanting to let go of him as she kissed him back with equal fervor, as he carefully shifted them so that he hovered over her.

He slowly drew away, a silent question in his eyes. Emma kissed him again to answer, holding him to her as he began to pull her chemise over her head, only breaking the kiss briefly to fully remove the garment. She pulled him closer to her, feeling the comforting weight of his body and the feel of his heated skin pressed to hers as she moved her hands down his back to his hips, discarding the linen pants he wore before moving her fingers back in his hair. They continued to kiss each other, never wanting to let go as they felt their need and desire take over them.

Teaser: "So that's just one offence?" he teased, no longer able to fight his grin.

"You want more?" she asked, challenge in her voice.

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