-K-

When he wakes, he finds himself staring into gorgeous green eyes, flecked with gold. But for some reason, they look troubled rather than happy. He just wants to get back to happy.

"Good morning."

He opens his mouth to say something, but his throat feels raw and he ends up coughing instead, much to his displeasure. He doesn't want to do anything more that will send Emma into another fit of distress.

Emma begins to push his bed into a sitting position, and lifts a cup of water to his lips. Dr. Merryweather strides in to do another round of tests, thankfully without the high-energy intern who rounded on him at 5am. His eyes follow Emma as she excuses herself, stepping into the hallway to speak with someone just out of view. If he strains, he can just make out a few voices-

"Do we have to do this now? He's still adjusting…"

"Who's out there?" Killian asks distractedly as Merryweather prods at the tips of his fingers peeking out of the cast.

"Captain Lancelot, the Sheriff and a member of Carlion's FD. Take a breath for me."

"Ah, the three horsemen." Killian remarks after complying.

"I thought there were four."

"I'm the fourth." He winks at her and Merryweather gives him a wry look and asks a few more routine questions about his pain or discomfort.

"Everything looks good, Lieutenant. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Doctor?" Killian nods toward the hall, "Would you send them in, please?"

His visitors enter with Emma trailing behind them with a slightly disgruntled expression on her face.

"You're looking well, Lieutenant." Lancelot notes, shaking Killian's hand. He keeps an eye on Emma as everyone exchanges polite greetings and she purposefully ignores them, choosing instead to busy herself shuffling the flowers and gift baskets lining his room that seemed to have all popped up overnight.

"Well, gentlemen? Let's get on with it. I assume you are here to take my statement?"

Lancelot nods and Killian recounts everything he can remember, up to the blast knocking him back, glancing quickly over at Emma, who, for the first time, has an expression on her face that he can't figure out.

"And the child? What of it? Did they find him or her?" He finally asks, tearing his gaze away from her.

Graham shifts on his feet, tucking his notepad away. Killian braces himself, knowing the news can't be good. He's seen the way Will's eyes skirt to Emma whenever they got dangerously close to the topic of that night, or the way the doctors changed the subject when he tried to ask before.

"There wasn't a kid, Lieutenant." Lancelot says evenly. Killian looks over at Kristoff, whose face is solemn- somber, even.

"It was a set-up." Killian deduces, "The arsonist we've been chasing?"

Kristoff nods steadily.

"Son of a bitch."

A hand lands on his left shoulder, nails digging into his skin and Killian turns to meet Emma's agitated eyes.

"He's escalating." She says and he thinks maybe she doesn't realize how hard she's gripping him.

"Are we sure it's the same guy? And not just some twisted prank?" Killian turns back to the procession of his colleagues at his bedside, trying not to wince as he crosses his uninjured hand over his torso to rest on top of Emma's.

"Preliminary results show the same kind of accelerant used in this fire."

"And the 911 call?" Emma presses.

Killian can't help his wince this time, "Darling,"

"Oh," Emma loosens her grip, "Sorry." She mutters.

Graham clears his throat, frowning slightly, "A child's voice. We estimate around ten to thirteen years old. Girl."

Killian hears Emma take a shaky breath next to him and suddenly he needs to move. He needs to get out of this hospital, out of this godforsaken bed. "I need to see the file. I need-," Killian struggles to get up ignoring the pain searing through his body, making the spot behind his eyes pound.

"Killian,"

Four sets of hands extend toward him, attempting to get him to sit back but he won't not when someone is now targeting his men and Emma- Emma could be in danger just by pure association to him and she's had to deal with so much already with him injured and Neal back in town.

"Lieutenant Jones! You have to sit back and relax or we'll be forced to sedate you!" Merryweather has one hand on his good shoulder, the other bracing on his bed rail and over her shoulder, he sees a nurse poised with a needle, ready to administer a sedative. The men are backed to the side, looking rather chastised and Emma's still got her palms spread over his shoulder and chest.

"Killian," She repeats and he's never really heard her beg in the light of day so he whips his head around to her and sees the anguish in her eyes. He's causing the downturn of her lips, the crease in her forehead, "You have to calm down."

He acquiesces, anything to make that look on her face go away, the look that makes her appear as if she's blaming herself. The heart monitor stops beeping so frantically and he fixes a firm gaze on his Captain.

"I need to see the files. Do not cut me out of this investigation, sir." He requests one last time. It's a long shot, but they can't really afford to lose manpower on this case, can they? Kristoff gives the faintest dip of his head and Killian turns his attention away from them, focusing back on Emma who's running her fingers lightly through the hair at the base of his neck comfortingly.

-/-

Despite his earlier outburst, the doctors come in just a little after noon to inform them they are ready to discharge him, pending the final pictures and labs. Elsa meets them with a bag of clothes for Killian and Will arrives back from the city after dropping his parents off at the train station, and starts lugging all the flowers and gift baskets back to their apartment, taking extra care not to rip the cards taped to each corresponding arrangement, especially after Elsa chewed him out over one that got loose.

There are conversations about taking it easy, pain meds, PT and follow-up appointments and "medical miracle" musings about not having burns or more traumatic injuries aside from his hand, to which Killian just turns to Emma, mouths "survivor" with a wink, drawing the first real smile out of her all day.

And finally, by 7pm, he is home in their apartment, watching from the armchair as Will and Emma bicker over Will's socks and shirts taking over their living room.

"You gotta go back to your apartment." Emma grumbles, throwing a balled up shirt at Will, who catches it deftly.

"Tonight? It's so cold outside and I'm tired from hauling all his stuff back here." Will whines.

"Let him stay, Swan." Killian declares magnanimously, "It's bad form to kick a man out the streets on a cold winter's night."

Emma huffs, tucking the blanket more securely around his lap, ignoring his raised eyebrow, "It's hardly kicking him to the street. I'm sure his mother left his apartment in much better shape than she found it."

Killian stills her hands, leaning forward to kiss her, feeling the fight drain out of her as his lips move over hers.

"Oi, mate. When you're done exchanging saliva like teenagers, perhaps Emma and I could start on dinner."

Killian pulls away from Emma to glare at him, "Why don't you keep your thoughts to yourself, mate, if you're going to continue staying on our couch?"

"Okay, I have tuna and chicken noodle casseroles and a Shepherd's Pie." Elsa announces, walking in balancing three aluminum trays in her arms. Emma leaves him with one last kiss, quick and fleeting before she goes to help Elsa with the casseroles.

"Bloody hell, did the whole town bring food?"

"That, or a floral arrangement. We donated as much as we could to the hospital and left some flowers and potted plants around the hospital, but we kept all the cards." Will explains, digging around for serving utensils.

"Right, cards." Elsa slaps a thick pack of blank cards on the counter, "Emma, your mother says she has more if you need it."

They eat a dinner of varied casserole samplings, finishing with fruits and chocolate plucked from some of the baskets, chatting and filling Killian in on the happenings of the past few days. When Emma goes to sort out his pills, the buzzer sounds and Will gets up to answer it.

"It's Kristoff Bouldernen."

Everyone pauses in what they're doing, looking up in surprise.

"Well, buzz the lad in." Killian says, sitting up straighter and moving the blanket off his lap. Emma hands him a new glass of water and his meds as Elsa drags another chair from the kitchen table over to the living room where they were eating.

There's a knock on the door a minute later and Will swings open the door to reveal the burly fireman, snow still caught in his blond locks and cheeks pink from the cold.

"Kristoff," Elsa walks forward to take his coat.

"Lieutenant." Killian starts to stand, but Kristoff holds up a hand.

"Please, don't get up. And it's Kristoff. I'm here unofficially."

Emma starts to drape the blanket over Killian as Kristoff is welcomed into the apartment, but Killian stops her, shooting her a reassuring smile, knowing she's starting to worry too much again.

"Can I get you some water? Or food? We have plenty." Emma offers in her friendly waitress voice after shooting a challenging glare at Killian for stopping her attempts to help him.

"Oh, um." Kristoff looks over at Elsa as if looking for her permission, but she simply raises an ambiguous, cool eyebrow. "That would be wonderful. I came straight from work."

"Help yourself. Try to finish the Shepherd's Pie if you can. I'm running out of room in my freezer." Elsa says and Will jumps up as well, as if just remembering there is more food to be consumed. Kristoff unearths a fat file folder from his bag, handing it to Killian before he follows Elsa to the kitchen.

"Copies of everything we hate." He explains from the kitchen, as Killian flips through it in wonder, Emma looking over his shoulder, "But uh, Lancelot and Humbert don't know I'm here."

"Right." Killian nods understandingly. Kristoff is a good man; genuine and always walking the straight and narrow- as much as he can, that is. Killian knows from the past few months of working with Kristoff that he and his moral compass are the only reason why everything hasn't imploded from everything going on in Carlion at the moment. It's taken some creative, unprecedented moves from the second-in-command to keep everything together, this apparently being one of them.

"I'm giving you all this on two conditions- your recovery comes first and you don't go rogue. Everything you find comes directly to me, Lancelot or Humbert." Kristoff's eyes flicker up to Emma, who is no doubt promising to hold Killian accountable.

"Can do." Killian promises.

Kristoff walks back and sits down in the chair Elsa pulled up and begins going through

the new evidence as he eats. After Kristoff is finished, Elsa walks him out, bidding goodnight to everyone before they leave and Will starts doing the dishes while Emma helps Killian figure out the shower with the cast obscuring his arm. He manages surprisingly well, despite dropping everything at least a couple times, and Emma leaves him to go change the sheets on the bed.

"Will's passed out already." Killian notes, closing the bedroom door. Emma turns to face him with a soft smile on her lips until her eyes widen, raking over him. He knows he's quite a sight, having stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a full two minutes, just taking in the visual reminders of all he's been through- the healing incisions and bruising. Thankfully not as gruesome as they probably were the first two days after his surgery, when he was still in the coma.

"You shaved." Emma says, light dancing behind her eyes and he hums, rubbing a hand over his smooth jaw.

"It felt cathartic to just shave it all off. Start anew, in a sense."

"You look like a fourteen year old boy. How'd you do it with one hand?" Emma asks, stepping closer to inspect his work.

"I am quite adept with my hands- hand." He corrects grimly but his smile is returned to his face when Emma runs her palm down his smooth cheek. He catches her wrist before she draws away and presses a kiss to the skin just above where her pulse thrums. "And I can assure you, I am anything but a boy."

"Hm." Emma's free hand trails along the edge of the towel hanging from his hips but she yanks her hand back after a few seconds, "We can't," She mutters to herself.

"Actually-," He might still hurt all over, but it doesn't mean he can't make her feel good.

"No." Emma gives him a steely look, similar to the one she always gives Will when she places a plate of healthy food in front of him in lieu of whatever junk food he ordered.

Killian groans, half in pain from standing so long, half in disappointment. He walks gingerly to the side of the bed, where Emma's lain out some pajamas and admits defeat, letting her pull on his clothes, easing back under the covers and sighing when his body can finally rest. Emma disappears to ready herself for bed and he must have dozed off for a while because the next thing he knows is her leaning over him, her minty breath mingling with his as she kisses him goodnight.

"I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too, love."

She doesn't rest her head on his chest as usual, but she carefully slides a leg over his and reaches down to clasp his hand in hers, pushing her nose against his shoulder, letting out a little sound of contentment. His heart yearns to pull her close, but his body is being pulled under the numb haziness of his medications and he finally succumbs to it.

-/-

"Killian. Killian. Open your eyes for me."

He grunts, fighting the drowsiness that feels like it's settled deep into his bones, forcing his eyes open as the room is suddenly bathed in light.

"Bloody hell, lass. What's goin' on?"

"Nothing, Will. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep. And turn off the damn lights."

Killian reaches in the direction of Emma groggily, his hand making contact with the smooth locks of her hair.

"Wassit?" He squints as the lights are turned off again and feels Emma move closer, digging her nose into his cheek, her breaths ragged against his skin. He doesn't remember having a nightmare and his suspicions are confirmed when his hand feels its way to her cheeks and finds them damp to the touch.

"Emma?" He internally curses the drugs because it's clear he's just slept through whatever night terror that was so horrible, it made her cry out and wake Will in the next room.

"I just needed to see that you could wake up. I'm sorry, I know you need your sleep."

"Nonsense, darling. I should have been able to shake you out of whatever darkness was plaguing your dreams…" Every word is a struggle against the fog of sleep. He bites the inside of his cheek to stifle a groan as he pries his hand out of her grip, stretching it around her back, coaxing her to lay back down. She's still trembling a little against him and trying to keep as much of her weight off him as possible.

"It's okay, Swan. Just- try not to jostle me too much and we can make this work." He says in a voice that's more strained than he would like.

"No," Emma decides, sliding out from under his arm, "I need you fully healed as soon as possible so you can hold me properly." She hitches a leg over his hips so his hand can skim her thigh and reaches an arm around his chest, fingers finding purchase on his opposite shoulder.

"Did you have a lot of nightmares while I was in the hospital?" He wonders aloud, the pain from his previous movements pushing him further into consciousness.

"Not so much." Emma admits tersely, "I never slept long enough to have them."

Killian smooths his thumb back and forth over her leg, "If you have another nightmare and I'm too knackered to wake up, just poke me. I have plenty of sore spots where you can make me hurt."

"That's okay. This… you here is all I need."

"Oi, no shagging in there!"

Emma sighs, "I forgot he was out there."

Killian pats her thigh consolingly, "Don't worry my love. I'll kick him out tomorrow."

-/-

Will finally leaves in the morning, grumbling about early risers and the racket they were making, slightly mollified when Emma pushes two aluminum trays of food into his arms as well as a basket of assorted fruits and snacks. Killian and Emma breakfast on slightly stale pastries and coffee, basking in the peace and quiet of their apartment after so many days surrounded by their friends, family and hospital staff. After they're done eating, Emma gathers all the cards and they set up a station on the coffee table to write and address thank you cards to everyone who left a card or gift.

"Bloody hell, I think we're going to need more cards." Killian lifts his hand, shaking out the cramps and Emma hums, adjusting the blanket spread across her lap as she sits cross-legged on the ground.

"Lots of people in this town are big fans of you. You're a great hero in their eyes." She tells him, reaching for the stack of envelopes.

"Who wrote all these Post-it Notes about who brought what?" He asks, picking up a lone card and peeling off another brightly colored sticky with 'bouquet of carnations' written across it in elegant handwriting.

"My mother. It was her way of keeping busy." Emma explains, inspecting another card, "Oh look, here's another card from one of your secret admirers."

"Who?"

Emma smirks, "Oh you know, all those pretty single ladies who come into the diner to flirt with you."

"Who? I only have eyes for you." Killian mirrors her smirk, but their moment is interrupted when Emma's phone starts ringing.

"It's Regina." Emma reports, glancing down at the screen and abandoning her card to pick up the phone, "She wanted to come by with Henry since he's been asking to see you."

Killian reaches over to pull another stack of cards toward him as Emma answers the call and a few minutes later, there's a knock on the door and Henry comes bounding in the second Emma swings it open, his eyes alight with elation to see Killian.

"Henry. Henry, remember what we talked about with Killian's injuries." Regina says from the doorway, straightening the shoes Henry kicked off haphazardly in his rush to see Killian.

The lad stills, visibly restraining himself as Killian rises gingerly to his feet.

"Hi Killian." Henry grins up at him, clutching a weathered volume to his chest.

"Hullo, lad." He claps Henry on the shoulder.

"Can I sign your cast?"

Henry and Emma go off to search for markers while Regina steps into the apartment, exchanging pleasantries.

"Here. The numbers you requested." Regina hands him a business card discreetly and Killian glances down at the cream colored cardstock with rich black type spelled across it with another name and number written underneath the print. "Are you sure you want to do this now?" She asks in a lowered voice.

Killian nods, "If I've learned anything in the past few days, it's not to wait to do things like this. That, and don't run up burning staircases without making sure you have a safe way down."

Regina doesn't laugh, regarding him with slightly narrowed eyes. "You can take some time to think about this. This kind of money… Well, let's just say it took me a while to figure out what to do with Daniel's life insurance money and it was a decision that took me a lot of time to come to terms with."

He tucks the card into the pocket of his sweats, "Believe me, I've given this a lot of consideration over the years. But everything Liam did was to ensure that I have a future." His eyes flicker over to the kitchen where Emma and Henry are digging around in a drawer, "And I damn well intend to have one."

"Okay." Regina says finally, "Are you going to talk with her about it?"

"We've touched on the subject briefly. But I'll have that conversation with her again. When the time is right."

Regina's phone dings and she looks down at it, her brow furrowing elegantly.

"You could leave him here. We'll watch Henry for a while, feed him lunch." Emma offers and the mayor hesitates, glancing at her son.

"Alright." Regina finally relents and Henry looks up at Killian, his smile widening, making Killian grin back and ruffle the lad's hair. "I'll be back after lunch, around one. Henry?" Regina stoops to talk quietly with her son, who nods solemnly, hugging her when she's finished. With one last goodbye, Regina lets Emma walk her back to the door and Killian settles back down on the floor, Henry beside him. He props his cast on the table so Henry can sign his name in crooked but meticulous cursive.

"Can I add a pirate ship too? Since you're Captain Hook?"

Killian lifts an eyebrow, "Because I only have one hand now?"

"Because it was your Halloween costume!"

"Sure, lad."

He and Emma continue writing their thank you cards as Henry decorates Killian's cast, listening as the young boy goes on about Neverland and pixie dust. When he's done, Killian has to go to the bathroom mirror to get a good look at the masterpiece which is admittedly quite impressive for a ten year old.

"What are all these cards?" Henry asks, shuffling the small pile placed to the side.

"Oh, those are all from people that we don't have an address for, or didn't leave a name." Emma seals an envelope with a flourish, "Okay now who's up from some cocoa? Henry?" Her face scrunches up in concern and Killian turns his attention to him as well, craning his head to see what has Henry's countenance turning white as a ghost.

"What is it, lad?"

"Uh, nothing." Henry deflects, stuffing the card back to the bottom of the pile.

Killian plucks it back out with nimble fingers, "Who is it from?" It's another one of those plain cards with Mo's company logo printed at the bottom that simply says 'get well soon!' scrawled on it and according to Mary Margaret's handwriting, came with yellow roses. He flips the card in his fingers to show Emma and she cocks her head, equally as confused as Killian.

"What's wrong with this card?"

Henry shrugs again, "Can we put whipped cream and cinnamon on our cocoa like you did at Christmas?"

"Sure kid." Emma says cautiously, still watching the boy carefully, glancing at Killian out of the corner of her eye.

Killian scratches at his skin, still unused to the feeling of smooth skin instead of stubble there and shrugs at Emma. Henry, like any other young lad, is not great at keeping secrets so he figures the truth will out sooner or later.

"Okay, well I'll go heat up some milk, Henry do you want to draw a hook on Killian's cast near his hand so he can complete his transformation from fireman to pirate?" Emma suggests, clearly trying to cheer Henry up. The boy shrugs again and takes the gray marker Emma is holding up to him and Killian places the card back into the pile. He knows Emma said she's not pregnant, but watching her with Henry, he can't help but think that someday, she'll make an amazing mom. He shifts so he can rest his arm more comfortably on the table for Henry and feels the business card Regina gave him dig into his thigh through the cotton of his pants.

Someday.