-K-
There are kisses that leave his mind whirling, stunningly and consumingly blank, unable to form any coherent thought as his mouth moves with hers. But this one is different. His lips meet hers and all he can think about is her. The angelic silhouette of her body, the glow that seems to emanate from her very being, the love shining in her mossy green eyes, the cool touch of her fingers as they soothe him out of nightmare. Her tongue traces his bottom lip and his mind goes to the vise-like grip of her legs around his waist when he returns home after a shift and she can't control her excitement, the slip and slide of golden curls through his fingers as they sit cozied up on the couch to watch whatever movie is on the top of her list for that week. His mind explores the allure of a future with this amazing, strong, loving woman in his arms as his fingers explore the curves and valleys of her body and it's enough to keep his physical pain at bay for the time being.
Eventually though, the dull throb of his healing body commands his attention when he has to start taking deep breaths to account for the sacrifices he's making keeping his lips glued to every inch of Emma he can reach and he Killian has to pull back, unable to stifle his groan. Emma just laughs and he grins stupidly along with her.
"We should probably-,"
"Yeah." Emma smooths her hair behind her ears and Killian runs his hand down the back of her head, returning the golden locks to a much tamer state after his fingers mussed it up.
"Swan," Killian grabs her elbow, pulling her back to him when Emma turns to leave, "Thank you."
"For the kiss?"
A laugh rumbles in his chest, the movement hurting a little less these days, "For sticking around and caring for me." He says sincerely, watching her eyes soften.
"Of course. We're going to get through this together." She promises and he chances another brush of lips, which she pulls back too early from. "Now come on, pirate. I'm hungry. For food." She adds with a roll of her eyes and he dutifully follows, unable to wipe the grin from his face.
Leroy corners him immediately once they re-enter the dining area and adds to Killian's jubilation by announcing he's selling his boat and would Killian be interested in purchasing it from him. They get so caught up in discussing repairs and remodeling that Killian barely notices Emma walking past them to speak quietly with Graham, returning with a plate of food with a slightly perturbed look on her face.
"What is it?" Killian asks, moving over so she can sit next to him. Leroy says something about getting some lasagne and takes off, leaving Killian and Emma to talk.
"Do you remember how Graham said it was a 10-13 year old girl who made the 911 call the night of your accident?" Emma says quietly and Killian nods, watching her take a deep breath, "I think… maybe it was Emilie Baker. I heard her and Henry talking about seeing some of the kids from their group home in town and I think we should have the Sheriff's office speak with her and Henry."
"You think a child did this?"
Emma nods grimly, "It fits the profile of an arsonist. Someone in their teens, likely a boy…"
"From an unstable home environment, likely resulting in surpressed rage." Killian finishes, "But you think he'd be able to get away with it so many times? Across the county?" This had been one of the main reasons the age profile had been bumped up in their investigation- it was highly unlikely a child could evade the law so adeptly so many times.
She shrugs, toying with her fork. "You never know. This could be an anomaly. But do you really want to dismiss this possibility based on statistics and theory?"
"Fair point, lass."
"Here." Emma shoves the untouched plate of food at him, "You eat first. I have to use the restroom." She gets up and leaves before Killian can say anything else. It's probably for the better; he saw the way she stiffened up when the Bakers initially entered the establishment and he knows from Ruby's whispers that Emilie's adoptive family never frequents Emma's diner out of respect for her space so facing them even after years since her father's passing is still hard for her. He knows from the files he dug up the first month he started in Storybrooke that the fire was an accident- a result of old electrical appliances and an even older house with little structural stability.
Killian starts to dig in, but before he can get too far into the food, Will slides into the seat across from him and steals a handful of sweet potato fries from his plate.
"Oi, you arsehole- get your own grub with your own two hands. Don't steal from the one-handed guest of honor."
"So what'd the doc say?" Will asks irreverently, chewing obnoxiously on the fries.
Killian lifts his casted arm, still proudly bearing Henry's hook, "Same as they said before. Healing well and as long as I keep with the PT and OT regimen, I should regain 80% functionality. Perhaps more. Emma's concerned about the hardware needing to come out at some point, but I s'pose we'll get to it if we need to."
"More surgery?"
Killian grimaces, "Some cases they don't have to go back in."
"Does that mean your punches will pack a stronger wallop now?"
The lieutenant raises his eyebrow, "Not sure that's how it works. Why do you ask?"
Will cocks his head at a point beyond Killian's shoulder. When he turns, he's met with the sight of a sheepish man with a boyish face and a pretty woman hanging off his arm, looking curiously around.
Judging by the way everyone halts their conversation and gawks at the newcomers, these two people are the infamous Neal and Tamara.
It takes Killian no less than two seconds to decide what to do. Feeling everyone's eyes on him as he rises leisurely and saunters over to the door with Will at his heels, definitely not as calm and collected as Killian is forcing himself to be.
"Welcome. You must be Neal. I'm Lieutenant Killian Jones." Killian slides his good hand forward, arranging his features into a charming expression that he's mastered long ago. (He'll wonder later as he replays this moment in his head as he recounts it to Emma if he really heard Will crack his knuckles behind him until he remembers that yes, that's exactly the kind of thing Will Scarlet would do.)
"Uh, yeah. Good to see you doing so well, man. Congratulations on a speedy recovery." Neal says less smoothly but his words seem genuine, even if he doesn't quite know the extent of Killian's injuries. "Will," Neal raises his hand in a half-wave after shaking Killian's hand but Will doesn't say anything. Tamara is introduced and Killian politely invites them to grab a plate and enjoy themselves, surreptitiously shoving Will's shoulder when the shorter man continues to bare his teeth threateningly at Neal under the guise of a crude smile. Mary Margaret catches Killian's eye across the diner and nods minutely before returning to her conversation with Leroy.
Conversation picks up again slowly and by the time Emma returns from the restroom, the atmosphere in the diner is less stilted.
Will is still flexing his fist, glaring at Neal across the room and naturally, Emma's eyes follow his. Killian watches her spine straighten slightly, but she gives no other reaction whatsoever.
The evening wears on and Will calms down somewhat after a couple of beers, hitting that sweet, relaxed spot as he starts on his third. Killian however, is still restricted from enjoying libations of the stronger nature and he becomes more and more vexed as Tamara makes several attempts to approach him and Emma, dragging an oblivious Neal along with her. It wouldn't bother him so much if Emma didn't keep shifting uncomfortably beside him wherever they got too close.
Thankfully, just as Will once told him all those months ago, Emma is the town's sweetheart and everyone seems to move in a coordinated effort to block Tamara from reaching them.
"How did you know?"
Killian tears his eyes away from Emma is holding Aurora's baby again to focus on his best mate.
"Huh?"
Will tips his beer bottle to the gaggle of women where Aurora is holding court (and simultaneously creating a virtually impenetrable wall around Emma), "How did you know you wanted to settle down and give your heart to her?"
"When you love someone, you just know." Killian says with conviction. It's likely the vaguest answer he can give, but he doesn't know how to describe the path to his revelation that Emma is the one for him, that he would give anything and everything to his beautiful blonde siren and she would do the same. He can't quite pin down the exact moment when everything shifted and suddenly he could see a future past the end of the week, spanning years, decades and the blank face in his buried fantasies started looking more and more like her until he couldn't imagine anything else.
Killian glances over al Will who looks positively dumbfounded, "Look mate," He sighs, "It really comes down to this- Is Elsa the one you picture spending time with? Is she the person you imagine giving up everything for, just to make her- to make the both of you happy?"
"Blimey." Will mutters, eyes glued to where the ice cream parlor owner stands chatting with Leo, not even contesting Killian's suggestion that it is Elsa on his mind, "Bloody hell."
Killian slaps his mate's back, getting up from the booth to seek shelter from the quickly approaching Tamara. "Best of luck, then." He says, trying to not look too smug. The ladies part quickly for Killian, closing ranks as soon as he reaches Emma, who barely looks up from the sleeping babe in her arms.
"How's the little lad?" Killian asks, resting his hand on Emma's shoulder.
"He's so good," Emma smiles up at him and he swears he sees Mary Margaret's camera flash out of the corner of his eye.
"You okay? If you look at me any harder, you're going to drill a hole in my head." Emma teases, though her brow furrows a little at him.
Killian just smiles faintly, moving a silky smooth lock over Emma's shoulder.
"Are you getting tired? Should we head out?" Emma asks in a lowered voice and suddenly, that idea seems very appealing to him, despite the fact his crew is going to tease him about a baby outlasting him at the party.
"If that's alright, love."
It takes them almost an entire hour to say their goodbyes, finally breaking free when Ruby practically escorts them to the door, glaring pointedly at anyone who dares to approach them for an encore. Emma lets out a long sigh when they're finally tucked away in Killian's SUV, sharing a small laugh over the center console.
"So that's a typical Storybrooke party, courtesy of my mother." Emma remarks as she begins to drive them home.
"Aye, and what a treat it was." It almost felt like we were celebrating another holiday." Killian hesitates, unsure if he should voice the thought that's been nagging at him, "D'you… did you get the sense that Tamara seems extra curious about us?"
Emma spares him a quick glance, "How do you mean?"
"Well, the lass seemed awfully eager to get to know us. Almost as if she was constantly trying to approach us."
Emma bites her lip before speaking, "Yes. I noticed that. I don't know, Killian. I'm kind of getting a weird vibe from her. Like she's almost too friendly, you know? I mean, who wants to get to know her fiance's ex and her boyfriend in front of the whole town?"
"Always trust your gut, Swan. If I've learned nothing else, it's that you have strong instincts." He can already see the wheels turning in her mind and they spend the rest of the drive home in silence.
-/-
"Good... morning." Killian rubs at his eyes, expecting the spectacle in front of him to disappear but the steaming plates and a wide-awake Emma Nolan still sit before him when he pulls his hand away from his face.
"Breakfast, coffee- I hope you don't mind, I helped myself to the file- I wanted to confirm my hunch." Emma says distractedly shuffling the papers around to make room for Killian to sit.
"Uh," Killian was confused when he woke to an empty bed, a phenomenon that never happens when Emma isn't scheduled for an opening shift, so it's needless to say that walking into plates heaped with toast and eggs squeezed in between spread out files is unnerving at the very least.
"I'm guessing you never had a behavioral psychologist assist on this case?" Emma ponders aloud, her eyes flitting quickly over the text in her hands. He's not sure he's ever seen her so absorbed in anything other than when she's creating new baking recipes.
"Limited resources on local cases." Killian explains, leaning in for a good morning kiss that Emma barely leans into. Instead, he settles on brushing his lips against her cheek.
"I'd like to be there for the questioning today." Emma tells him, settling down the file in her hand to stare him down.
"Love, I'm not sure that protocol-," Killian begins, reaching for his fork but Emma deftly slides the plate away from him before he can start on the food, "Okay, I'll call Graham." Killian acquiesces hastily, instantly rewarded by having his plate returned. "Bloody hell," He mutters under his breath, finally understanding how Will must feel eating at the diner.
Satisfied, Emma returns the papers and Killian scarfs down his food before she can take it from him again, hurrying off to place a call to the Sheriff's office once he's finished.
And that's how the lieutenant finds himself sheepishly explaining to Graham how a copy of the file landed up in his home, let alone in the hands of his girlfriend.
"Well, I should have expected it when it comes to Emma," Graham sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Emma Nolan always gets her way. She's smart and incredibly determined." He lowers her voice conspiratorially, glancing over quickly to where Emma is explaining her hunch to Mulan. "Her father used to give her hypothetical cases when she was still in school, and then would come back with new leads on cold cases. Don't feel too bad about it, mate. She's been bewitching the good sense out of men since the day she uttered her first word." Graham laughs heartily.
If Killian were a jealous man, he would find himself irked by the reminder that Humbert knows his Emma so well. But he's not. At least, he's not anymore.
(It's what he tries to tell himself even as he smiles tightly back at the Sheriff.)
"The Bakers are pulling up," Mulan calls and Emma leads Killian covertly into a separate conference room as Graham and his deputy go to greet the family, not wanting Emilie to become intimidated by the sight of Killian if she did indeed place the call.
When Emma and Killian hear the interrogation room door shut, they walk out to join Mulan at the one-way window. Mr. and Mrs. Baker sit on either side of Emilie, who has her hands folded demurely on her lap as Graham thanks them for coming in. A shadow starts to fall over the little girl's face as the Sheriff broaches the topic of the 911 call.
"I- I don't know." Emilie says in a quavering voice, fear flickering over her features when Graham asks if Emilie has any idea who might have made the call that night.
"You're not in trouble, sweetie. Sheriff Graham is just asking for your help," Mr. Baker assures his adoptive daughter.
"I'm not allowed to say."
"Who? Who told you that you can't say, Emilie?" Mrs. Baker tendering brushes the little girl's hair out of her eyes and Emilie promptly bursts into tears, shaking her head.
"Ask her about a boy named Felix." Emma says to Mulan, handing her a card that Killian recognizes is from their miscellaneous pile in their apartment. He studies Emma as Mulan nods and palms the card. The first time he saw Emma encounter the Bakers, they had been walking down Main Street and Emma had pulled him into the nearest shop where they waited until the family and their three kids passed, enduring the curious looks from the otherwise silent butcher's son. Her hands had been shaking then, her face a litany of expressions- dread, anxiousness, bitterness. Now, she's focused as she watches the family head-on, her tone businesslike when she speaks, almost clinical and her expression is passive, focused.
Mulan studies the card before giving Emma a calculating look, "Criminal Psych, right?"
Emma tears her eyes away from the one-way window to face the deputy. "Yeah."
"Okay." Mulan gathers a cup of water and snatches a tissue box before sweeping into the room.
"Emilie," The deputy starts once the girl's face has been sufficiently mopped up by her father while Mrs. Baker cradles her in her arms, "What can you tell me about Felix?"
Killian recognizes the same look on Emilie Baker's face as the same one to pale Henry's that morning in their apartment. The look of cold fear in these children's faces sends a flash of white hot rage through Killian. No child should ever have to experience that level of fear in their life.
"Can you tell us how you know Felix?" Graham asks gently, but Emma and Killian already know the answer.
"The card. I found it right after Henry went home, but I didn't think much of it at the time." Emma explains lowly, still watching the Bakers attempt to console their kid, "I think that day Henry was over, you must have picked up the wrong card. When I overhead the name at the party last night, I knew it had to be him."
"You're amazing, Swan." Killian whispers, brushing his hand against her arm.
"The group home?" Mrs. Baker guesses, bringing Killian's attention back to the room in front of them. Emilie manages the most miniscule of nods.
Killian turns back to Emma as the young lass bursts into tears again and his eyes follow her stiff arms down to where she's propped her white-knuckled hands against the ledge of the window, leaning heavily forward.
"Hey, hey. Let's go sit down somewhere for a spell, yeah?" Killian pries her fingers away, letting them wrap around his neck as he pulls a trembling Emma to him, gladly supporting her weight as the passive expression falls from her face.
-/-
Emma sighs and Killian resists the urge to wrap his arm back around her shoulders, reaching for his takeaway cup of coffee instead. Kristoff paces in front of them, processing the new information unloaded onto him the moment he stepped foot into Storybrooke's Sheriff's office.
"You really think this boy would be capable of setting fires in every city a kid got adopted in?"
"Not every city," Emma explains patiently, "Likely the places where the kids he has a specific and personal vendetta against. Kids he used to bully and terrorize until they were adopted or taken in by a new family."
"Mrs. Schuester who runs the group home says Felix Nightshade ran away about a year ago." Kristoff crosses his arms, eyes roving all over the rolling board covered in evidence.
"You think he might have had an accomplice?" Lancelot asks, fingering a photo documenting a charred campsite that couple possibly be the work of their same arsonist.
"It's unlikely. Typically arsonists are socially isolated, using their pyromania to settle some sort of deep-rooted emotion."
Everyone turns to Emma, who shrugs self-consciously. "Or something along those lines."
"Why haven't we been using her as a resource?" Kristoff demands, though he appears more intrigued rather than upset.
"I haven't got any qualifications past an undergrad education. This is just what I remember from one of my courses two years ago." Emma snips.
"But she's got a gut instinct that would put any officer out there to shame." Killian brags, earning himself a glare from Emma as he wriggles his eyebrows at her.
"So how are we going to find this guy?" Mulan asks, bringing everyone back to the main point.
"Well," Graham rubs his chin thoughtfully as he leans against Mulan's desk, ankles crossed, "I think we need to bring Henry Mills in for a chat. See if he can give us any more insight." The sheriff then tilts his head towards Emma, "Probably a good idea to keep our expert in the loop too."
Emma blushes and Killian grits his teeth, throwing her a quick smile when she turns his way.
"I'll ring up the mayo right now." Graham says, retreating into his office.
"You okay?" Emma asks, reaching across Philip's desk to rest her hand on top of Killian's. "We forgot to bring some of your painkillers…"
"I'll be fine, Swan. It's probably time I stop taking them." Killian assures her, ignoring the dull ache at his side that's starting to flare up. He knows Emma's scheduled to start working again tomorrow and he doesn't want to give her any more cause to interrupt her lifestyle on account of his convalescence.
Henry's interview doesn't yield too much more information, other than that he saw Felix on the street the morning Killian drove him from the diner to the mayor's office. He confirms their suspicions that Felix had been a loner much of the time at the group home and that he had taken particular interest in tormenting him and Emilie.
"Speaking of unwelcome lurkers." Regina starts as they walk out of the interrogation room, "Oh, not you guys." She rolls her eyes when everyone but Graham and Mulan exchange guilty looks, "This Tamara woman? I've run into her a couple times today and it doesn't seem like a coincidence."
Killian exchanges a look with Emma but Lancelot speaks before they can, "Perhaps she's just getting to know the town better."
"Without her fiance to guide her around? I don't think so. You'll look into it, Sheriff? Adventurous spirit or not, I don't think we need anymore trouble in this town."
"Of course, Madame Mayor," Graham says formally, walking them out.
-/-
They ease into a new routine as the new year sets in. Killian continues to heal, keeping busy with diligent PT, OT and paperwork delivered to him by Will under the guise of stopping by for a beer. It doesn't go unnoticed by anyone that Elsa frequently comes downstairs to hang out whenever Will happens to come by, but no one comments on it. Killian also starts mandated therapy with Dr. Hopper and he occasionally convinces the good doctor to relocate their sessions to the diner during midday where they are typically the only patrons and Emma is busy in the back preparing for the dinner rush. Mrs. Scarlet returns to Storybrooke after extending her trip another few weeks, does her mandatory fussing over her boys before making Emma vow to drag Will and Killian to visit her in England over the summer. She seems hard-pressed to leave, especially with Killian still healing, but Will is just as determined to get his mother on a plane and back across the ocean where she can nag from a safe distance.
Most of Emma's shifts are now during the morning/early afternoon so she can spend longer hours at a time snuggled on the couch with Killian when all his appointments are done for the day. Two panels of their floor to ceiling windows next to the couch are now covered in pictures and whiteboard markers, an evidence board of their own making. When Killian finally feels well enough to get out and about, he spends his mornings at the station and whenever he finishes his admin duties, he heads for the diner to hang out until Emma finishes her shift.
One morning as he sits coffee in his usual spot at the bar, he hears that Neal's trial has begun, due to the judge's anxiousness to get the case heard and done. His relief that the couple is finally out of town is short-lived however, given that Tamara walks in just as the lunch rush is ending that day.
"Hey, Lieutenant." Her smile is blinding and not necessarily in a good way.
"Hello, Tamara." Killian replies politely, trying not to smirk at the way Ruby glares daggers at the woman while filling her cup dangerously close to the brim. "I heard the trial starts today." Killian comments casually, digging into his pie, "You didn't wish to accompany Neal to Boston?"
Tamara doesn't even miss a beat, "We decided it was better that I stay here, you know, keep an eye on his father as he's recovering at home."
"I thought Belle was doing that." Ruby says, not bothering to hide the hostility in her voice.
"Neal thought it was important to have someone else here to help." Tamara replies, still smiling.
"Uh huh." Ruby twirls around and stalks away and Killian has to hold back a snicker at her blatant disregard for the newcomer.
"How's the search for the arsonist going?" Tamara presses, delicately sipping at the overflowing coffee.
"Good, they're really making some progress." Killian replies vaguely. The truth is, Felix Nightshade is virtually a ghost. Aside from sightings made by Henry and Emilie months ago, a lanky teen boy doesn't really pull at the memory of most, especially one as cunning as Emma's profile on him paints him out to be.
"So who's in charge of the investigation now?"
"I-," Killian catches sight of Elsa entering the diner and seizes the opportunity, "Would you excuse me?" He all but abandons his pie, catching Elsa by the elbow and steering her to a booth where Tamara at least has the decency not to follow him to.
"Hi...Killian." Elsa's not the type of person who splutters but the surprise shows on her face despite her smooth tone.
"Here. Before bridezilla tries to slip you a slice of poisoned fruit." His half-eaten slice clatters in front of him, courtesy of Ruby.
"Sorry, love. I'm a little short on appendages here." Killian says, waving his cast.
Ruby is in an exceptionally foul mood today so she rolls her eyes, muttering "Gross" under her breath before leaving to place Elsa's order.
Elsa glances over at the bar, "There's just something not quite right about her…"
"I agree." Killian raises his cup in a toast to Elsa who isn't even paying attention to him.
"I take it Emma is hiding in the back?"
He shrugs, "Likely so."
Elsa grudgingly clinks her mug against his, "How is everything, by the way?"
"How are you and Scarlet?" He deflects, smugly noticing the faint color to Elsa's pale cheeks, "I have to warn you lass- if Scarlet ever takes you out, make sure you bring back-up cash. He has a nasty habit of putting things on tabs."
-/-
OT moves at an excruciatingly slow pace- maybe because Killian is anxious to go back to work responding to calls, or maybe because the romantic in him doesn't want to be an invald on their first Valentine's day together. Emma doesn't seem to mind so much, picking up the slack here and there but then again, she's always been exuberantly positive about the whole thing, almost to the point that it's interfering with her personality.
In short, Killian is frustrated. He's physically frustrated (two weeks ago he twisted a little too much in his sleep and earned himself in another few days of pain), sexually frustrated (Emma keeps her distance now since she blames herself for making him twist himself while trying to adjust to her wrapped around him) and professionally frustrated (Where the bloody hell is this Nightshade kid?). He wakes one morning with irritation running up and down his spine, everything culminating in a ball of dark rage at his current lot in life. He wedges his arm out from under Emma and resolves to take his swirling anger away from her peacefully sleeping form. It's her first full day off in a few weeks, having scrambled to catch up in the last month to make up for all the time she took off for him.
Killian replaces the stiffer, sleeping cast with the freer range day slint they transitioned to last week and gets to work collecting the necessary ingredients for Emma's favorite pancake breakfast. But as much as he tries to focus on the end result of Emma's angelic face blinking sleepily at breakfast in bed, his mind wanders to what is now four panes of paper-covered glass in the living room. So when an idea strikes him as he's melting chocolate for the cocoa, he steals away to the living room only to find his trail of thought already documented in their attempts to pin down Felix's location.
And then the chocolate burns.
Killian resigns himself to making coffee, filling the hardened pot of chocolate with water to wash later and he starts on the pancakes, trying to convince himself breakfast isn't ruined yet.
Emma wanders into the kitchen as he's flipping the last of the pancakes and he looks up to see her smiling fondly at him.
"I thought I smelled something burning, but I thought nah, that couldn't be Killian." She jests lightly, wrapping her arms around his middle, a safe distance away from his ribs.
Killian laughs thinly, "I'm afraid it was me, my love. My thoughts were elsewhere."
"Like in bed with me?" Emma's lips move between his shoulder blades and his cock stirs. If it weren't for his stupid sleeping mishap, they would've been cleared for sex this week.
"Minx." He rumbles and he feels Emma laugh with her cheek pressed to his back.
"Are those for the hot cocoa?" She asks, popping a chocolate chip into her mouth from the bowl sitting behind them next to the sink.
"Shit." Killian curses, realizing he completely neglected to put the chocolate into the chocolate chip pancakes.
"Oh." Emma's eyes widen before she lifts a shoulder nonchalantly, "That's okay, we can always sprinkle them on top-,"
His hand spasms then locks up under the weight of the plate of pancakes and some slip off top of the stack, landing on the floor with a splat.
Rage at his own bloody incompetence overtakes him and he lets the plate fly to the ground with a smash and snarling growl.
One look at Emma's shocked expression that quickly morphs into indignation and he's fleeing like a shamed animal, storming off into the bathroom where he paces until he finally rips off his clothes before stepping under the cold jets of water, hoping it will cool him down.
It's not enough. He's not enough. 80% is not enough. Not at the rate his rehab is going. He hasn't been able to properly hold Emma in over a month and she's so careful with him all the time, like he's going to break if she steps off her eggshells or puts too much of her weight on him. They're living in a ghost of their former relationship and he's afraid this is all they'll ever be if he never gets that 20% back.
Killian's so caught up in his despair that he doesn't even realize Emma's followed him into the bathroom until the water starts to turn warm, then scalding and he wonders if this is her way of punishing him until she slips between him and the spray, her fingers combing the wet strands off his forehead and he can no longer mask the tears escaping his eyes as droplets from the shower.