Tori and Irene prop this fic up more than you guys know! Thank you for being the best 2-woman sillier system ever, for yelling at me and always making me smile with your dramatic reactions to every draft!
This one is angst. Fair warning.
(The payoff will be worth it, please stick with me!)
TW for alcohol excess and mention of prescription drugs, mention of suicide, mention of OD.
Your Case or Mine
Chapter 24
Emma felt refreshed for the first time in weeks when she awoke the next morning. She hadn't had a single nightmare, nor had she woken up every few hours, the way she usually did. The only thing that made the sleepy smile on her face waver was remembering why Killian wasn't next to her in bed.
Shaking that conversation, and the sting of his rejection, out of her head, she climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom with a stifled yawn. She brushed her teeth, took a quick shower, and threw on some yoga pants and the first vest top she pulled out of her drawer. All the while, she was actively ignoring the whisper in the back of her mind about what day it was. She didn't want to spoil her entire day by thinking about that.
Wandering barefoot into the living room, she frowned. It was conspicuously quiet. Killian's neatly folded sheets sat on the sofa, and the apartment wasn't filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He always brewed coffee as soon as he got up. She'd grown accustomed to sharing a living space with him now, and that was one of his habits that she particularly appreciated.
Maybe he'd gone out to grab them some coffee that morning instead. A wave of apprehension made her stomach drop as she wondered if he knew what day it was; maybe he was trying to make a big deal of it, with breakfast and coffees they hadn't made themselves.
Swallowing hard, she padded into the kitchen, and her frown only deepened as she caught sight of a folded piece of paper on the kitchen island, with her name written in Killian's elegant cursive.
With a shaking hand, and an oppressive feeling of dread settling over her, she grabbed the paper and unfolded it.
Emma, my love,
I haven't left you. I want to make that clear. But I thought going back to Virginia this way was better for both of us. If I had to say goodbye to you...I'm not sure I'd manage to go at all. But I know that staying wasn't an option. You were open and honest with me from the start about our boundaries, and I didn't wish to overstay my welcome.
Thank you for everything, darling. The months I've spent with you have been some of the best of my life, despite the circumstances. I hadn't looked forward to waking up each day in many years, not until I was waking up beside you.
You made me realise that my heart hadn't become a useless shell, the way I believed it had. You made me feel again for the first time in many years, and I will always treasure the time we spent together. The feeling of you in my arms, the taste of your kiss, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh, and how your laugh became one of my favourite sounds...I will never forget a single detail, my love.
I only wish you could see yourself as I see you. See what a precious treasure you are, Emma. You are brave and beautiful; the strongest woman I've ever known, with the most incredibly resilient heart. You've told me so many times that you're broken, that you're damaged, that you're a mess, but I see the opposite.
Your scars, the ones I've traced my fingers over on your skin and the ones you have on your heart, are part of what makes you so beautiful to me, my darling. They're marks of what you've been through. Things that not many would survive. They're a reminder that even though the world has been intolerably cruel to you, that you still care so truly and deeply about those who are lucky enough to get close to you.
I hope you can forgive me for slipping away like this, and that you understand why I've done it. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, but I felt that leaving this way would hurt us both less than a long goodbye.
I know that you never wished for anything more between us, once the case was over, but I hope you know how much I've come to care for you over the last few months. I don't wish to lose touch...but I will understand if I don't hear from you. I will leave that ball in your court, if you'll forgive the sports metaphor.
And thank you, Emma. For turning my world upside down, and making me feel alive again after so long. I hope that I brought something good to your life, too. Even just for the brief time we shared. Because you deserve happiness and love in your life. You deserve the world, darling. I wish I could've been the one to give you all of that, but I truly hope that you won't put those walls of yours back up, after you started to let them come down a little with me.
I will never, ever forget you, or the moments we were lucky enough to share. And you will always be in my heart. Take care of yourself, lass. There's not a day that will go by that I won't think of you.
Yours, always.
Killian.
Emma felt like her legs were going to give way from beneath her, and she stumbled back into the living room in a daze. She dropped down heavily onto the sofa, with Killian's letter still clutched in her hand.
Her vision was blurry with the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, and a sob caught in her throat. The apartment suddenly felt a few degrees colder than it had when she woke up, as a hollow ache settled in her chest, radiating outwards until all she felt was numb.
She was alone.
Again.
Somehow, it always came back around to her being alone. Hadn't she said so many times she was better off that way? Because everyone left in the end. And her heart ended up a little more broken and a little more scarred every time.
But why did it feel like such a damn lie now, when she tried to convince herself yet again, that she was better off on her own? She'd known Killian had to go back to Virginia at some point. She was the one who'd pointed it out multiple times...maybe he'd taken that as a hint that she wanted him to leave.
She'd been trying to prepare herself for the day he'd go. But nothing could have prepared her for the emptiness he'd left behind. And she supposed that she now knew how it would've felt if Neal had managed to rip her heart out. But this was worse. Because she'd have to pick herself up yet again, and put on a brave face for everyone else, as though she wasn't falling apart inside.
"Happy fucking birthday to me."
She whispered brokenly, folding the letter with shaking hands and placing it on the coffee table. She then curled up on the sofa, grabbing a pillow that still smelled like him, and let sobs wrack her body as the anguish took hold.
CS
"I can't get hold of Emma. She isn't answering her phone."
David sighed, hanging up after his third attempt at calling her had just rang out til it went to voicemail. Will placed the takeout bag from Granny's on David's desk, and gave him a pointed look.
"Dave, it's her birthday, and she's shacked up in her apartment with a bloke even I wouldn't turn down. She's definitely too busy savin' a horse and ridin' her FBI guy to be takin' your calls. She don't wanna hear your voice in the middle of a marathon-"
"For God's sake, Scarlet, stop. I don't need those images," David snapped exasperatedly, his cheeks pink, "But fine, I'll just try her again later on. I know she hates being reminded of today, but we can at least wish her a happy birthday. She had too many years of no one acknowledging it."
Will nodded in agreement. Emma had always insisted, every year that he'd known her, that she did not want to celebrate her birthday. Drinks after work, with no mention of 'a special occasion' or banners or anything of the sort, was the only allowance she made.
If it hadn't been for David making a point of wishing her a happy birthday and bringing her a cupcake to work with a single candle in it, Will was pretty sure she never would have mentioned it. So the two men tried to make sure that they celebrated the day as much as Emma would tolerate. And even though she always rolled her eyes at their antics, Will never missed the little smile on the corner of her lips and the way her eyes softened.
"Me and the fellas were sayin' we should do Emma's birthday drinks when she comes back to work in a few weeks. Be a belated birthday, but can double as a welcome back party an' all."
Will said as he took his lunch out of the bag and unwrapped it, taking a mouthful before looking to David for his thoughts.
"That sounds good. We both know she'd veto anything more than drinks, and we can't do that until she's off the medications the doctor put her on. So waiting until she's back at work is a good idea. You're full of good ideas lately, Scarlet; it's a little unnerving."
Will grinned around a mouthful of sandwich and David shook his head with mild amusement. When he'd finished the bite, Will paused.
"I was also thinkin'..."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Bugger off and hear me out," Will huffed, "I was thinkin'...be good to have a behavioral unit 'ere in the city, wouldn't it…?"
David narrowed his eyes.
"I'm listening."
"Ya know I'm not exactly the FBI's cheerleader or nowt, but havin' Killian's team 'ere and workin' with 'em on the case...it was pretty good. Gave us a different way of thinkin' 'bout stuff. And we've got the MBI just a couple blocks away, but they don't have a BAU. Maybe...you could make a few calls to your Quantico mates and float the idea of gettin' one set up?"
David looked thoughtful for a moment, and then eyed Will with slight suspicion as he started to put the pieces together.
"I have a feeling you've got a suggestion in mind for who you think should head up this hypothetical new Boston BAU."
Will attempted to feign innocence, but it missed the mark by a long shot, and fell closer to an outright smirk.
"Might 'ave a name in mind. Which you could always casually drop. I bet he'd be pretty keen to stay if he had the option...he hasn't exactly gone runnin' back to Virginia yet. Just need to give 'im a lil' more of a nudge to consider stayin'."
"And this would have nothing to do with Emma?"
"We both know she's prob'ly not gonna outright ask 'im to stay. Even though I bet ya any money that's all he's waitin' for. They're idiots. But I've seen 'em together enough to know they're in love with each other. Killian 'avin the offer of a job 'ere...it'd give 'im a good reason to stay without puttin' it all on Emma," Will sighed, "I just wanna see her happy, and she's happy when she's with Killian. He can turn down the job offer if he don't want it...but we may's'well try."
David considered the younger man carefully as he took a bite of his own sandwich, and finally, he nodded.
"I'll make some calls."
CS
By the time Will was heading out of the station, it was a little after 5pm. Neither he nor David had been able to get hold of Emma when they'd tried again that afternoon, so he promised he'd swing by her apartment just to check in and wish her a happy birthday in person. And to drop off the 'token' gift from each of them, which was an annual tradition now - David got her a Chowdaheadz Boston-themed candle, a different one each year (this year's was named 'Summahtime'), and Will got her the most random and obscure magnet he could find (a resin sushi this time) and a box of Pop Tarts.
The gifts had become a tradition when Emma first started working as a rookie at Boston Homicide, after David had vouched for her and kept on at his boss to give her a chance. He'd found out a few days later, when helping her with her ID paperwork, that it was her birthday. She hadn't said anything. But David had gone out on his lunch break and panic-bought a candle, having absolutely no idea what Emma liked, but wanting to get her something, seeing as she apparently had no one else willing to acknowledge her birthday.
He'd handed it to her somewhat awkwardly with a "happy birthday...and welcome to Boston."
She'd looked at the candle like he'd just bought her a Ferrari. She'd quietly said thank you (choosing not to point out that she'd lived in Boston for 6 months at that point, or that living out of her car wasn't really conducive to candle burning), and stared at the gift as though it was the first one she'd ever been given. He found out much later on that it was.
After that, buying her one of the Boston-themed candles every year had become somewhat of an inside joke between them. She still had the first one he got her, like new, on the sideboard in her hallway. She hadn't been able to bring herself to use it up, the way she had with the subsequent ones.
As Will reached her apartment block and rang the buzzer, he couldn't help the slightly unsettled feeling that had been with him most of the day. He couldn't put his finger on what was unsettling him, so he'd shrugged it off.
When there was no answer, Will rolled his eyes.
"Jesus, woman. Come up for air for two minutes an' answer the bloody door."
He muttered, buzzing again. When there was no answer once again, he decided not to ignore his gut instinct that he needed to check in on her, and fumbled around in his pocket for the spare key he had to the apartment.
They'd swapped spare keys in case of emergency, and he wasn't sure if potentially interrupting marathon birthday sex would be considered an emergency, but he couldn't justify leaving before he'd at least checked that she was okay. He figured if anything was wrong, Killian would have contacted them before now, but he preferred to air on the side of caution.
Taking the stairs up to her floor a few at a time, Will paused in front of her door and knocked firmly, giving her a heads up in case the buzzer hadn't been working. He waited for a few moments, listening for any sound inside the apartment, and then slipped the key into the door.
"Emma…?"
He called out, frowning at the fact that the place was in relative darkness, save for the soft glow from a lamp in the far corner.
Maybe they'd gone out? Perhaps Killian had taken her for dinner to celebrate her birthday…
That's when he spotted the empty rum bottles on the coffee table. As he tentatively walked closer, he caught sight of Emma on the sofa, curled up, hugging a cushion as she slept. Will's stomach dropped and he rushed to her side, crouching down beside her and gently shaking her shoulder.
"Emma? What the fuck's goin' on? Mate...wake up."
She was clearly wasted, mumbling incoherently with her eyes still shut. Will's gaze swept over the empty rum bottles and the little orange bottle of her pain medication, and he stilled. Surely she hadn't…
He grabbed the medication bottle and popped the cap. Luckily it was half full, so he was less concerned that whatever had happened had been a planned effort to hurt herself, and more an irresponsible oversight on her part.
"Come on, mate. You need to wake up."
He tried to rouse Emma again, but she muttered a few curses and pushed him away, burying her face in the pillow. Will frowned, concerned about his best friend. Perhaps she and Killian had argued and he'd gone out to cool off. Perhaps he'd only gone out to get them some food, and had no idea what he'd be coming back to.
He went into the kitchen and grabbed a large glass from her cupboard, filling it with ice cold water, and returning to crouch by Emma's side, placing the glass on the coffee table and attempting once again to get her to come round.
"You need to drink water. Open your eyes, Emma."
He said firmly, manoeuvring her to sit upright even as she mumbled her protests, taking hold of both of her shoulders and gently shaking. She briefly wrenched her eyes open in a pained squint; they were unfocused and bloodshot, from drinking or crying, or both, he wasn't sure.
He managed to grab the glass of water and coaxed her to take a mouthful. She gulped it down and then very eloquently mumbled a slurred "leave me the fuck alone" before curling back into the couch cushion with a groan.
Will stood up and sighed with a mixture of worry and exasperation, hands on his hips. Yanking his phone out of his pocket then, he pulled up Killian's number. Surely, wherever he was, he hadn't been out for that long. But apparently it was long enough for Emma to chase a dose of her pain meds with a bottle and a half of rum.
CS
It'd been a long day.
Killian had gone to the airport in the early hours of the morning, and his 6am flight had ended up delayed. Because of course it had. Like he really needed the extra time to sit around in Boston, second guessing his decision to leave and fighting the urge to catch a cab right back to Emma's apartment.
But eventually he'd arrived back in Virginia, just after 10am. He'd stopped by his place long enough to drop his suitcase, have a quick shower and change into work clothes. Then, he headed into the office. He only realized, with a curse, that he'd left his phone charging on the kitchen counter when he was halfway to the office. But he supposed at least he wouldn't be able to give in to the urge to call Emma, or check his phone a thousand times for any texts from her, if he didn't have his phone.
Keep busy, he thought.
Don't think about everything you walked away from.
Don't think about her.
Don't think about the look on her face when she reads that letter. Or the fact that she's probably read it by now and she hasn't texted or called. Don't think about it.
And the only way he could occupy his mind with thoughts of anything other than Emma, was by going back to work. They weren't expecting him. He hadn't even let Graham know he was back in Virginia yet.
The welcome he got when he stepped out of the elevator and walked through the doors of the BAU bullpen was worth the surprise, and it was also a good distraction for his too-loud thoughts.
"Oh my gosh…Killian!"
Elsa spotted him first, rushing over and enveloping him in a warm hug. The rest of his team all made their way over them, pleased to see their boss and friend back after his extended trip. Robin and Lance clapped him on the shoulder with a big grin; Belle gave him a dainty hug, while Anna, Elsa's sister and the team's very enthusiastic intern, practically launched herself bodily at him in classic Anna fashion. Merida and Smee weren't huggers, so they settled with smiles and warm greetings.
Graham appeared in the doorway of the SSA office, which was on loan to him in Killian's absence, and he seemed genuinely happy to see his friend back, despite the fact that it would mean stepping back down to his SA role.
The team bombarded him with a thousand questions then. When did he get back? How was Emma doing? Was he really back or was it just a drop in?
Thankfully, Graham could clearly see he was a little overwhelmed as he joined them, and redirected the conversation.
"Good to have you back, boss. The Alexandria case I sent you is going well. We delivered the profile to Alexandria PD yesterday, and they've had a few leads already. Elsa and Robin are following up this afternoon, but there haven't been any developments since I updated you yesterday."
Killian appreciated Graham diverting the questions back to the 'safe' topic of work, and the others seemed to take the hint quickly.
"Good work, guys. I'm not going to swoop in and take over from Graham here, so he'll continue to be the lead on this case. All your orders come from him. I'm just going to ride shotgun on this one. I'm mostly up to speed, thanks to everything Graham sent me, but I'll have Merida walk me through it while you lot carry on with whatever you were doing before I gatecrashed your workday."
He grinned, and the others nodded, once again commenting that it was good to have him back, before they returned to their desks.
Killian spent the rest of the day throwing himself into the work, catching up on the latest case and trying not to think about the cold, empty apartment he'd be going home to that evening.
When he left the office, just before 6pm, he stopped in at the grocery store to pick up some essentials - including a bottle of Captain Morgan - and the Chinese takeout down the street from his apartment, before reluctantly heading home.
He'd just put the grocery bags down on the kitchen counter when he remembered that he'd left his phone charging earlier that day. He grabbed it, and his heart stuttered.
Emma. 3 missed calls and a text.
Will. 1 missed call.
With his hand shaking, he opened Emma's text...and his stomach immediately dropped.
"Yku lwft me jst liike evergyone else. Yuou were aupposed to ve differwnt. But you werebt. Fuckk you."
It was clearly a drunk text. Sent two hours earlier. A wave of guilt overwhelmed him and he was about to call her, to check that she was okay and to apologize, he supposed. But before he could do so, his phone began to ring.
Will.
He answered it immediately, his chest tightening with apprehension.
"Will, I-"
"Where the hell are you, mate? Emma's a mess. I'm at the hospital with her now."
It was like a knife in his gut to hear those words, and a sense of déjà vu coupled with blinding panic had his legs almost buckling beneath him.
"What happened? Is she alright? God, Will, tell me she's alright."
"Aye, she's gonna be a'ight. I found her passed out drunk on her sofa 'bout an hour ago. There was a bottle of her meds on the table next to empty rum bottles and she was pretty out of it, so I didn't know if she'd OD'd. I brought her to the ER just to be on the safe side, and they reversed the meds. She threw up a buncha times after that, which is good I s'ppose. She's pissed that she's here, and tried to rip out her IV at first when she came round, but she's calmed down now. A shrink is in there with her at the moment, doin' some kinda assessment, checkin' she's not tried to off herself or summat, I guess. I'm just waitin' to go back in. But where the fuck are ya? You weren't at Emma's place and I tried callin' before…"
There was a beat of silence, guilt lodging painfully in Killian's throat as he tried to form a reply. Finally, he managed to get his words out in a strained voice.
"I...I'm back in Virginia, Will…"
"You're fuckin' what now?!" Will spluttered, "Are you jokin' with me?! You left?!"
"I-I didn't-...I just thought it'd be for the best-"
"Well, it bloody wasn't! This is why she almost topped herself, accidental or not? It makes sense now," Will scoffed in incredulous anger, "You're a prick, mate. You couldn't 'ave waited one more day? You had to leave her on her fucking birthday?"
Killian's entire body went cold.
"Her...her birthday? I-I didn't know-"
He croaked, his chest even tighter than before and the guilt making him feel nauseous. He never would have left if he'd known. He never would have wanted her to wake up alone, blindsided by his departure that he'd genuinely thought was the kindest thing for both of them, on her birthday. Not only had he well and truly broken his own heart, but he'd broken hers too. And he wasn't sure he'd ever forgive himself for that, even though he hadn't known the significance of the day before he left.
"She hates this day enough already. And I know she's been tryin' to brace herself for you leavin', that it was inevitable, 'cause your life is back there in Virginia. But fuckin' 'ell, Killian...she's 'ad a lifetime of arseholes screwin' her over and walkin' out on her. She don't trust no one til they earn it, and she trusted you. Whatever you said before you left, it messed her up."
"I didn't…"
"You didn't what?"
Killian swallowed thickly, his voice wavering with the weight of the guilt he felt.
"I-I didn't say anything. I wrote her a letter. I thought...I just thought it'd be kinder for both of us if we didn't have long goodbyes. She was pulling away from me, the last few days, and she reiterated a few times that there was no future for us, that we were just friends now."
"She was protectin' herself, you bloody idiot! It's what she does. She puts up walls 'cause she's terrified of takin' a risk after what she went through in the past. And then you went and fed into that when you didn't even say goodbye," Will sighed, his earlier anger now dissipating slightly, being replaced by weariness and sadness as he acknowledged Killian's intentions had been good, "Look, she's gonna be okay, and when she came 'round, she said she wasn't tryin' to hurt herself on purpose. You didn't know it was her birthday. Just wish you'd told me or Dave you were goin', so we coulda maybe avoided this shitshow."
"I'm so sorry, Will. Bloody hell, I never meant to hurt her. I'd never hurt her on purpose. I-I…thought I was doing us both a kindness by leaving the way I did. And I'd never have left if I'd known today was her birthday. I'm a bloody idiot. I could...there are flights this afternoon. I could be back this evening-"
Will cut him off, grimacing and shaking his head as he paced the hospital hallway.
"I don't think that's a good idea, mate. Not sure she'd want to see you now. And it'd be cruel, comin' back when you'd only have to leave again at some point."
Killian felt his throat tighten with emotion, as he fought back tears. He couldn't stand the idea of Emma hurting because of him, and not being there to fix it. She'd had a lifetime of pain and he'd added to it. He'd become another person who'd hurt her and left a scar on her heart, when he'd been desperately trying not to do so.
But he knew Will had a point. She probably wouldn't want to see him, if she still felt as angry as she had when she'd drunk texted him. What he couldn't tell Will was that if he went back to Boston...he wouldn't leave again. He couldn't.
But maybe he could figure out a way that he wouldn't have to leave again…
"The shrink's finished now, so I'm gonna go and see 'ow she's doin'," Will said, sounding distracted, "I'll text ya later and at least let ya know how she's doin', a'ight?"
"Yeah, okay. Thank you, Scarlet. And please, just...take care of her. I'm sorry…"
"I know. And I will. Bye, mate."
He hung up then, leaving Killian to sink down onto his sofa, holding his phone like a lifeline as the deafening silence of his empty apartment and a suffocating cloud of guilt and grief settled around him.
CS
"Why the hell did you bring me here?! I got wasted, big deal!"
Emma snapped at Will the second he walked back into the room. She was sitting on the bed, feeling woozy and as though a truck had run over her head repeatedly, not helped by all the questions the psych lady had fired at her, as though she was being interrogated.
When she first woke up, she didn't know how she got to the hospital, but she could clearly tell she was in the ER, hooked up to an IV, though thankfully still in her own clothes at least. She'd freaked out a little bit, she'd admit, pushing away the nurses who were prodding her with thermometers and attaching blood pressure cuffs and other monitoring equipment to her. She'd tried to yank out the IV one of them had stuck her with, and get off the bed in a panicked daze.
They talked her down, clearly used to dealing with the suddenly-conscious and irrationally single-minded patients dosed with Narcan. Once the initial panic and confusion had worn off, they convinced her to stay for monitoring and had explained why she was there, the fact that her friend had brought her in with concerns about an overdose.
She vehemently denied overdosing, but when they delved a little deeper, she realized what she'd done. Clearly, taking her prescribed dose of pain medication, even just the two tablets, had done a number on her when she'd chased them with a bottle and a half of rum. It hadn't been an intentional effort to hurt herself, or overdose, but her fragile emotional state had made her complacent and careless.
She knew she wasn't supposed to drink while she was taking the meds, but she hadn't properly thought through the consequences of doing so. And she'd learned the hard way.
They said she still had to have a psych evaluation before they'd be happy sending her home, despite the fact that they were reassured it wasn't a suicide attempt.
When the shrink had turned up, she'd grilled Emma as though she was a criminal, questioning her use of pain medication in the first place, despite having the notes in front of her, detailing what she'd been through over the last few weeks. By the time she left, Emma was distressed and on-edge, not helped by a premature hangover already setting in.
So when Will returned a few minutes after the shrink left, she'd snapped at him, playing down how serious the situation could have been for her (which the doctors and nurses had repeated numerous times), and eager to get the hell out of the hospital.
He held his hands up in supplication.
"You know it was more than that, don't pull that one on me, Swan. I've seen ya wasted before, and that wasn't it. You scared the shit outta me."
"I'm fine."
She muttered, staring down at the blanket in her lap and tugging on a loose thread.
"You weren't though. And I didn't know what else to bloody do! I called Killian and-"
Her head snapped up, and she stared at him in horror.
"You did not tell him about this, Will. Please tell me you didn't! Why the fuck did you call him?!"
"I didn't know he'd left! And he didn't know it was your birthday. He-"
"Don't do that! Don't justify what he did like he tried to in that fucking letter! How can you be on his side right now?! He didn't even have the balls to say goodbye. He just...h-he left me alone. He left me like that!"
Angry, frustrated, heartbroken tears dropped from her lashes, slipping down her cheeks and falling onto the blanket as she dropped her gaze. Her shoulders shook with sobs, the alcohol in her system making her emotions that much closer to the surface and so raw that her entire body ached.
Will's own heart hurt, seeing his partner, his bestfriend, crumble and curl in on herself, as the stress and hurt and fear of the last few weeks, coupled with a painfully fresh heartbreak, toppled her precarious control of her emotions.
Ignoring her initial attempt to push him away, Will perched on the bed and pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair as she quickly yielded to the comfort he was giving her.
"I'm always on your side. Always. Me and Dave, and Mary Margaret. You ain't alone. You'll never be alone, Emma."
He said quietly, leaning his cheek against the top of her head as he held her tight. She let herself fall apart, helped along by the alcohol; she was too broken to hold herself together any longer, and too exhausted to pretend that she wasn't.
CS
He couldn't stand to sit around in his apartment all night, alone and replaying conversations in his head. He was torturing himself with the guilt, and he needed to get out of the suffocating, empty space that he'd once thought of as home.
But his home wasn't here anymore, a fact that he was so acutely aware of now.
His home was 600 miles away, in a hospital bed, feeling as though he'd betrayed the fragile trust she'd gifted him with. And he couldn't sit around and think about all of that for one more minute.
So he went out. He found a local bar that wasn't too busy, and ordered a double when he settled himself at the bar. It wasn't that he wanted company, per say, he just didn't want to be alone. That didn't mean he wanted to make conversation; the background noise was plenty. He could be alone without being alone, and his thoughts couldn't get too loud.
But, of course, a man with his good looks, brooding and uninterested in the corner of a bar, was bound to draw some attention. Namely of the female persuasion. And usually, he wouldn't mind partaking in a little harmless flirting, perhaps buy a lady a drink or two.
But tonight, that was the last thing on his mind, and the idea of even looking at a woman who wasn't Emma simply made his chest constrict with guilt and self-loathing. No, tonight, he just wanted the background noise and to be left to drink in peace.
"Hmm, a good-looking guy like you shouldn't be drinking alone-"
"No offence, love, but to drink alone is all I'm here for tonight. It's been...a bad day. But thank you anyway."
He tipped his glass to the third nameless, attractive young bottle-blonde who'd tried her luck with him, throwing a tight smile her way as he did so. She was pretty, and she knew it, but she didn't hold a candle to Emma. He knew no woman ever would.
"Maybe I can make your bad day a little better?"
She purred, sitting down on the bar stool next to him and brazenly sliding her hand up his thigh while crossing her legs and letting her very tight dress ride up. She was persistent, he'd give her that. Frowning, he carefully removed her hand, shaking his head with an incredulous chuckle.
"I'm not interested, lass," Killian said firmly, an edge of irritation and finality in his tone, "You'll have to look elsewhere for your fun tonight."
The woman finally seemed to get the picture, and huffed at the rejection, clearly not used to them. She slipped off the barstool and turned on her stiletto heels, walking back to her group of friends, who were all now piercing him with glares, on the opposite side of the bar.
He couldn't have cared less. And his apartment suddenly wasn't looking so bad. At least there he wouldn't have to bat away unwanted advances from anymore women, and he could drown his sorrows without interruption. He'd just stick the TV on for the background noise he was seeking.
He wondered if this was how Emma had felt in bars before, and he was sure she had. She was beautiful, and men could be pigs, especially with some liquid courage. But she was feisty and could handle herself very well, he knew that. He smiled down into his drink as he thought about her strength and her fierce independence, but when he caught himself doing so, his smile faded.
She was in his head, and his heart. He was a fool to think that a change of scenery and some background noise were going to get her out of his thoughts. Throwing back the last of his drink, he headed for the exit.
He'd go home, and he'd sleep off the drinks. And maybe, if he was lucky, she wouldn't haunt his dreams. Realistically, he knew that was unlikely, but there wasn't exactly anything he could do about the situation now.
CS
"You don't have to stay, y'know. I'll be fine."
Emma sighed as she unlocked the door to her apartment. Will followed her inside, rolling his eyes. He could have predicted that she'd play down what had happened, and how she was struggling to adjust to being alone once more.
"I'm sure ya will. But you heard the doc - she said you shouldn't be on yer own tonight. And ya won't be, 'cause I'm stayin', and that's the end of the discussion. Now go take a shower, cos the vomit on ya shirt don't suit ya, and ya smell like th'hospital. I ain't cuddlin' ya like that."
Emma shot him a withering glare, but detoured into her laundry room to toss the vomit-stained vest top. Will had seen her change dozens of times during their years working together, so he was unfazed by her state of undress as she headed to her room.
"I'm makin' us hot chocolate and toast. You need to eat summat before ya go to bed."
He called after her. Another glare. But she knew he had her best interests at heart, so the glare lacked any fire this time.
"Alright, dad," she called back sarcastically, "You can stop doing a David though. I don't need two of you nagging me."
Will chuckled, putting the kettle on the stove and moving around the kitchen with the practiced ease of someone who had spent enough time in the apartment over the years that he knew where to find the most important things with his eyes closed.
She emerged from her room 10 minutes later, freshly showered and now in her favorite blue plaid pyjama pants and a white vest top. She looked exhausted, paler than usual with dark circles under her eyes and a weariness in her whole demeanor that wasn't lost on Will.
"Feelin' a bit better?" When she shrugged noncommittally in response, he put a plate of toast in front of her, along with a mug of hot chocolate, and continued, "Well, get those down ya. And then we can call it a night. You look like ya need a good kip, mate."
"You can say that again."
She sighed, reluctantly nibbling on the toast, despite having no appetite whatsoever and feeling extremely sensitive on top of that. Waves of nausea kept creeping up on her, and she made a mental note to put her trash can at the side of her bed, to save her floor from suffering the same fate as her vest top.
"You better not do no starfishin' tonight, Swan."
Will warned, following her into her room after she'd managed half of the toast and a mouthful of hot chocolate, before apparently looking green enough that Will had moved the plate away.
"I'm not the bed hog! You're the one who stretched out as much as physically possible last time. I'll kick you in the shins, or worse, if you do that again."
He looked suitably chagrined at that prospect, wasting no time climbing into the bed and sighing with the relief of finally laying down. Emma eyed him, bemused, hating feeling as though she was burdening her friend with babysitting duties, because she'd made a stupid mistake when her judgement was clouded by grief and anger.
He wouldn't see her, or the situation, as a burden though, she knew that. But it didn't stop her from feeling that way. And on top of that, seeing him making himself comfortable in the spot where Killian had slept just a few nights before made her heart ache in ways she didn't want to acknowledge.
She went through her nightly routine as best she could, having to pause a few times as she brushed her teeth to fend off those pesky waves of nausea. But once done, she placed the trash can nearby and slipped into her side of the bed, bone-deep exhaustion making her whole body slightly numb. The room was spinning in a faintly unpleasant way, but she'd been drunk enough times in her life to be able to tolerate it.
There was comfortable silence for a few long minutes, and Emma thought perhaps Will had fallen asleep already. It was late and it'd been...a testing few hours, to say the least. She stared up at the ceiling, silently bargaining with herself to fall asleep and forget about yet another shitty birthday.
"You know I love you, right, Swan?"
Will suddenly said in a soft whisper. Emma's breath hitched at his unexpected declaration, so easily given. She wasn't used to being told that, especially not so casually and out-of-the-blue, as though it was something she was used to hearing. She could count on one hand how many people had told her they loved her in her life. In fact, she could count on just a couple of fingers. It was no wonder, really, that she'd gone through most of her life with the deep-seated belief that she was fundamentally unlovable in some way.
She swallowed a lump of emotion that lodged in her throat and Will continued without waiting for a response.
"And so do Dave and Mary Margaret. We're ya family, no matter what. It's been a shit day, an' I know you hate yer birthday anyway, but I just wanna remind you of that. You've 'ad your heart broken, and I know all those walls of yours are up again, an' that it's hard to open up when you're hurtin'. But I'm 'ere with ya. I'm your friend, an' you're never, ever gonna have to be alone. Ya hear me? I'll always be with ya, no matter 'ow broken you feel, no matter where you are, no matter 'ow hard things get. If you feel like doin' what you did tonight, like drinkin' yourself into a right state til everythin' is numb, 'cause I know that's what you were doin', love, then just...call me. A'ight? You don't even have to talk 'bout feelings or nowt, I'll just sit with ya. But I never wanna see you like I did tonight. You scared the shit outta me, an' I love ya too much to see you in that state again. Ya hear me, Swan?"
Emma didn't trust her voice at first, so she reached out and grabbed Will's hand, squeezing a little to let him know she heard him. He squeezed back.
"Thank you, Will."
She finally said, her voice cracking. It had been a day, to say the least, and she felt too emotionally drained to manage more than a simple, but heartfelt, thank you. She knew he understood, because it was clear he didn't expect more from her.
The level of intimacy they shared, even in a completely platonic way, was something Emma had never been used to having in her life before. The only person who had ever told her they loved her before was Neal...and that had warped her feelings about the phrase, especially because she had no comparison for it with any healthy, positive relationships.
Will understood that what he'd said meant a lot to her, and that she wasn't exactly the best with words, so squeezing his hand had been her way of reciprocating the sentiments. He didn't expect or need a heart to heart from her, especially after the shitty day she'd had.
He knew how deeply she cared for those closest to her, evidenced by her fierce loyalty and the trust she put in them. Things that Emma didn't give easily. They never really 'got sappy' as she would say, but they didn't have to talk about their feelings in order to know how strong their bond was.
What he'd said, and why he'd given her that little speech, was about her, not him or them. It was about making sure she knew that she had a solid support system who would go to the end of the world for her.
He knew she had a tendency to reinforce those walls of hers when she was hurting, and that the raw pain of a broken heart, on a day that she struggled with anyway, could be making her feel isolated and alone. He'd simply wanted to put those feelings to rest, and remind her that she didn't have to go through this heart break alone, the way she'd had to in the past.
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then lay back down beside her, staring up at the ceiling with her hand still in his.
"An' for what it's worth...happy birthday, love."
CS
NB: Are you all okay after that ansgt fest? Are you all glad to see more Will back on the scene? I've mentioned it before in reply to a lovely comment I got on a previous chapter, but i really love developing a solid, heslthy, loving but completely platonic male-female friendship. And the dynamic between Emma and Will has been one of my fave things to develop in this fic outside of CS scenes. i'd love to know how you guys feel about them, their friendship etc!
Thank you so much to everyone who continues to read and leave such awesome feedback. i love you all!