A/N: Hey everyone! In this chapter, we are taking things back to season 3 and we are rewriting it. I know, I know, you're all shocked. Me – a devoted follower of fluff and hope – is going to rewrite a storyline where Emma and Henry left everyone behind and forgot them? Yup. Absolutely. Would write this fic a hundred times in a hundred different ways if I could. In this divergent little drabble, we made it through Neverland and got rid of Pan without any more curses or nonsense. Everyone knows what could have happened, but they avoided it, and now Emma is grappling with the fact that something more than a 'one-time thing' is happening between her and Hook. Inspired by the song 'Vulnerable' by Selena Gomez.
The irony was not lost on Emma that sleep was eluding her.
After what felt like an eternity fighting to get Henry back from the clutches of Pan and from the brink of danger, they were finally home. They'd staved off another curse, circumvented another terrible twist that would have ripped them all apart once more, and, most importantly, her kid was safe, sleeping in his bed and on the road to healing from this terrible adventure.
Over the past week, Emma had barely closed her eyes. Leading them through Neverland and navigating the wickedness of Gold and his father was a constant struggle. The physical toil and the emotional pain had been profound. She was exhausted and weary, but still, sleep would not come.
Here in the loft, the air was quiet, and the mood was peaceful. The moonlight trickled through the glass pane of her window, and the curtains caught in the breeze filtering in from outside. The temperature was perfect, cool and refreshing, but warm under the covers. The bad guys had been beaten, Storybrooke was safe, and the calm seemed stable, at least enough to last through the night. But it didn't matter. Despite her best efforts, Emma could not sleep. She'd tried everything, but none of it would work.
It's never going to work, she said to herself dejectedly. Not until you face this.
"Yeah, that's not happening," she muttered aloud, shutting down the part of her that wanted to work things out instead of always avoiding.
She heaved out a sigh of defeat and tossed the rumpled sheets off of her. Climbing out of bed and tiptoeing to the kitchen, Emma made sure to avoid all the noisiest parts of this apartment. She didn't want to disturb Henry or her parents, but she couldn't handle being cooped up in that bed. It was getting her nowhere. In fact, it was making things worse. Lying there in the dark, she was bombarded by memories and what ifs. It all was overwhelming, and enough to drive her mad.
Wordlessly she moved to the kitchen and found herself reaching for the ingredients needed for a calming cup of cocoa. Despite the lateness of the hour, she knew it would be a small token of comfort in a long, unrelenting night. The motions of preparing the sweet treat were soothing. This was a ritual she had grown accustomed to, and was mindless enough to lose herself in. But this late-night activity, which usually saw her through the worst of days, didn't yield the desired effect. Her thoughts still wandered, circling back to a particular pirate who perplexed and provoked her.
I don't understand his motives, she said to herself, knowing this was her cynicism taking the lead. Why is he still helping? Why take the risk? What is he after?
Why does he have to be 'after' anything? The reasonable part of her brain replied. Why can't you just accept that he cares about you?
Because it can't happen.
It already has. The kiss, in Neverland…
It was a one-time thing.
It doesn't have to be.
It does.
It doesn't.
It does.
You're scared.
Of course, I'm scared! He's Captain freaking Hook!
He's just Killian.
"He's not just anything," Emma murmured as she mixed in the chocolate, watching the warmed milk turn to a rich, silky chestnut color. Here was the kernel of truth she was terrified to admit. To Emma, Hook wasn't just a villain or a pirate. He was more, intricate and messy and moving and intriguing.
During their time in Neverland, Hook had awakened something in her. It started with the kiss, that sinful encounter that drove her to distraction, but also struck her heart, piercing armor she had been building up for years. Okay, maybe it started before that. There were plenty of heated glances, and barbed bits of repartee between them that almost felt like foreplay, but the kiss lit a fuse she didn't realize existed. It was meant to be a power move, a strategic plan to shut him up, maybe the vent some of her frustrations out, but the consequences lingered, and they were ones that Emma never saw coming.
She could still taste him even now, the ghost of that embrace tracing touches on her skin. Pressed up against him, the roughness of leather and metal, the scrape of his beard, the taut lines of his body… She'd given into him in that moment and lingered in the pleasure. When they kissed, Emma allowed herself a minute just to feel and to live. For a fleeting blip of time, the world wasn't crumbling around her. She was restored and she was hopeful, but it had to be just once. She wasn't meant to want any more than that. She certainly shouldn't still be thinking of it now, but here she was. And she was thinking of more too, thinking of the ways he'd risked himself, the ways he'd supported her, the way he'd saved her father. She acknowledged in the silence of her self-dialogue that she had grown to count on him, and that she felt drawn to him, even when his obvious role had come to an end. She should have been eager for him to go, now that the task of defeating Pan was over, but the thought of him leaving left an aching, empty feeling in her chest.
Over the past few days, Hook had luckily shown no real signs of setting outward. He was still sarcastic and cocky and cutting. He was practically gleeful every time he got to torment David, and his actions towards Neal and towards Gold were downright frosty still, but there was honor underneath it all and a respect he gave the others and this town that spoke to a more gentlemanlike nature. She had seen him when they located Henry, and observed a genuine relief when she was reunited with her son. She noticed the way he minded the others, helping far more than he hurt, and how he bit back the bullshit bad guy act when they just couldn't take it. He could read a room, and he often did, though he hid behind the swagger and the accent. And more than once there was something that colored his gaze, swimming in the blue depths of his eyes. When he looked at her, he hid nothing, and let the weight of his affection flow between them. He may not say the words aloud, but he laid it all out there, showing a vulnerability she never imagined but desperately craved. He wanted her, and Emma… well Emma wanted -
"Couldn't sleep?"
Emma jumped, her hand moving towards her chest and making contact with the speedy pacing of her heartbeat. Adrenaline spiked in her system, but she immediately relaxed when she saw it was only Mary Margaret. Emma worried for a moment that the conversations playing in her head may have been whispered out loud, but her mother (God that was still so weird to say), showed no awareness. Seeing as Mary Margaret was incapable of keeping secrets, Emma knew her own were safe. At least for now.
"No. You?"
"I wish," Her mother said, reaching into the cupboard and coming out with cinnamon, bringing a small smile to Emma's lips. "I never can after these escapades. But your father? Out like a light the moment the bad things pass. It's almost like it never happened."
"Lucky guy," Emma joked, and her mother chuckled, a thoughtful expression coloring her face.
"We are all lucky tonight. It was almost so much worse." Snow's words had the lilt of unshed tears hanging on the end. Emma could see the mistiness in her mother's eyes, and felt the weight of her worry. "We almost lost you again, Emma."
"I know, but you didn't," Emma said, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder. Snow placed her own hand over it and took a deep breath, nodding. She wiped two stray tears away quickly but collected herself.
"Everything that's happened… well it's put things in perspective for me."
"Like what?"
"I was wrong, Emma. In Neverland, when I practically interrogated you about Hook."
To say that this was unexpected was an understatement. Emma was shocked at the acknowledgement, even though she appreciated the words.
"It's fine."
"It isn't," her mother emphasized, and Emma stayed quiet. Snow was right after all. It wasn't great. It had caused more pain in a series of painful events, but Emma planned to just move past it and leave the discomfort behind them. "I didn't understand what you had been through. Even worse I jumped to my own conclusions. I was pushing you towards Neal, thinking Hook was the bad guy, but in the end, looking at the full picture, that's not really the story, is it?"
"No, it isn't," Emma agreed. "Honestly, I can't really follow the story anymore. I feel…"
"Lost?" her mother asked. Emma nodded.
"Yeah. Crazy right? We leave Neverland, and somehow I'm more lost back home than I was there."
"Maybe," her mother mused, as Emma poured two glasses of cocoa. She handed them to Snow for added cinnamon, but she was curious as to her mother's hesitation.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, are you really lost, Emma? Or are you scared of facing what it is that you want?"
The words were a swift punch to the gut, but Emma sustained them, taking a sip of her cocoa and braving up to respond honestly. "The second one. But it's insane. How is it possible? A few weeks ago, I'd never even met this man. He's a pirate – a villain from a story that I read as a kid. Things are moving so quickly, and yet their standing still. I don't know what to do."
"Do you trust him?"
"As much as I trust anyone," she admitted, the truth coming out for the first time since meeting him.
"Do you care for him?"
Emma nodded, not daring to say that part just yet. Her mother's eyes softened, a look of love despite the strangeness of this suitor.
"Does it have potential?"
"I don't know," Emma whispered, but the feeling in her chest that had been there for a while now was blooming something fierce. This may not be her gut, per se, but it was something adjacent, an instinct and an emotion screaming out that there was more than meets the eye here. This was different. This was special.
"If you think about the future, is he there?"
"I think I want him to be," Emma said, knowing there wasn't much thinking to be done. That was what she wanted, and now, she'd finally confessed it.
"Then you have your answer. It's just a matter of facing it and doing what you need to do."
Her mother's observation hung between them and Emma realized Snow had immediate expectations. "You mean now? But it's late."
"So? He's a pirate. I don't know much about them, but I'll hazard a guess that they don't keep normal hours."
"This is crazy."
"Affairs of the heart usually are, Emma. You'll recall I once bashed your father in the head with a rock, and yet the thought of going one more day without him by my side…" Emma's pulse skipped a beat at the mention of her heart. Another sign that deep down she had known for quite a while what she wanted. "You'll never sleep until it's settled, honey. Believe me, I know. You take after your mother, just as I took after mine."
Emma didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at her mother's joke, but she found herself hugging Snow close and thanking her. From there, things got a bit hazy. She was working off of adrenaline, moving to her room and changing out of her pajamas before heading into the Storybrooke night. It was just after midnight, not tremendously late, but by small town standards it was as quiet as quiet could get. Everything was closed now, the diner, the inn. Even the bar was locked up tight, and that was as late-night as Storybrooke ever got. There was no one around, just Emma and the pounding of her heart. Still, she kept moving, following the advice of her mother and the sense of what-if that had nagged at her all evening.
Soon enough she was at the docks, following the lamp light, and headed in the direction of the Jolly Roger. It wouldn't be difficult to spot, as the only Enchanted Forest vessel in the harbor, but still Emma worried. What if he'd left in the dark of the night? What if he believed her when she said this didn't matter? What if she was too late?
When the ship came into view, she exhaled a sigh of relief, but it was quiet. The lights were out. There were no signs of movement anywhere. And then she heard it. Singing, feint at first, but louder as she approached the boat. The voice was deep, but ruggedly refined. She knew it was Hook, but she'd never actually considered what he'd sound like in a song. His voice was beautiful and a little haunting, the seafaring shanty being one of heartache and loss. It was somber and serene, but despite its content, it was also a little bit hopeful. At least to Emma. Because if Killian was up signing instead of sleeping in his quarters after all they'd faced in the past few weeks, maybe that meant he was thinking thoughts like the ones that she'd been plagued with.
On their voyage to and from Neverland, Emma came to know this ship intimately, and the wooden planks called out to her. They were familiar and welcoming, two things she never believed she would ever say. It would be so easy to come aboard and just announce herself. But instinctively she knew it wasn't okay to board this ship without permission. Insecurities crept in at the realization. She was intruding. This wasn't right.
This was stupid, she reasoned to herself. I should have waited until morning. I should have –
"Swan?"
The voice she most wanted to hear played strange tricks on her now, sending a shiver of anticipation through her system and a tiny bit of terror as well. She looked to the deck but didn't see him, then she realized the voice had sounded out from a higher locale. Her eyes climbed the great mast of the Jolly and there he was, perched atop the crow's nest. With a coordination and grace reserved for the movies, he swung down from the great height with a rope from above. The action only tensed the hard lines of his muscles even more, and Emma took each movement in, unable to look away.
Hook was still dressed in a way she was used to seeing, but now he was missing his jacket and his vest. His hair was tousled, and his beard a touch darker, or perhaps that was a trick of the moonlight. She'd never seen him like this before. He was somehow even sexier than usual, and it overwhelmed her. He descended from the ship at a hurried clip, moving towards her with purpose and precision. He closed the distance between them, until they were mere inches away from one another. When he was near enough, his eyes searched her whole being for signs of trouble, and his hand came out to reach for hers in a show of comfort. She extended hers in kind, and her body came alive at the contact. Her breathing caught as her eyes met his cerulean gaze, brimming with intensity and earnestness.
"Emma, love, are you all right? Is it Henry? Has something happened?"
The worry in his tone was evident, and the honesty she felt flowing off of him broke the last fragments of her will power. She couldn't take it anymore. She was in this, and it was damn well time that she act like it.
She practically leapt into his arms, pulling him down by the v of his somewhat unbuttoned shirt and kissing him as she'd wanted to ever since walking away back in Neverland. The instant delight that came was heady and addictive, and this time Emma knew that she could savor it. There was nothing looming on the horizon – nothing poised to stop them or intrude on this big moment – and for the first time in a long time, Emma felt free. Free to feel and free to want something only for herself.
Hook needed only the briefest moment to respond. He practically purred out his approval, the growl he let loose buzzing through her and setting her ablaze. His expert use of hand and hook left her shaking. He pulled her even closer, closing the remaining space between them, and enveloping her in every part of him. Emma stopped knowing where she ended and he began. God, this was perfect. Easily the best kiss she'd ever had. How could anything possibly feel this good? His hard body had her squirming in his grasp, seeking any semblance of friction and relief. She'd been carrying desire for this man for too long, but compartmentalizing and hiding it away. Now it flowed freely, surrounding her, engulfing her, and leaving her breathless.
She wasn't the only one trying to soak in every moment. Hook was just as ravenous, nipping and teasing her with touches designed to seduce and to entrance. He was hot and fierce and alluring, the scent of rum and salt and sea air clinging to him. It felt dangerous and daunting, but also natural and filled with need. Like magnets flung towards impact, two opposites attracting and finding something more. Many parts of this were familiar, but then it changed, sparked fire, and blazed to something past her comprehension.
With the benefit of privacy and time, Hook took control and guided the kiss. He was dominant and demanding in ways Emma never allowed another man to be. It set her soul on fire, and tilted the world into a whole new point of view. This heated embrace stole every shred of sanity Emma had left, but she wouldn't trade it for anything. Neverland was about her making a statement, and tonight was as well. But Hook would have his say this time, and he showed her so much more through luscious actions than anyone ever had with words. This kiss was a revelation, a seduction any siren would be proud of, and here she was, caught within the storm but finding that she loved it all the same.
Coming up for air was a struggle, mostly because now that she had done this, Emma didn't want to let go. But after the fervor of first contact, they both knew that they had to talk about this. For Emma, it was time to fess up, and to confess that the fear of taking a chance was overwhelming, but that the fear of losing a chance at this was even more jarring.
"It's difficult for a man to determine if he's dreaming when a woman as lovely as you appears like this, Swan." Killian uttered the words as his fingers traced along her jaw. His hook held her hip in place, the cool metal a source of strange comfort. Emma nuzzled in closer, leaning against his palm and breathing him in as her eyes closed. "But in all my years I've never had a dream that compares to you. So it must be real. Please, Gods above, let it be real."
"It's real," she whispered, pressing another soft kiss on his lips. "We're real. I've been scared as hell to say that, but I…"
"I understand, love. It's wholly unexpected. And I'm not exactly the kind of man a woman like you deserves."
"Don't say that," she pleaded, and the pain in his eyes sent a sharp sting through her heart. Obviously he didn't see himself the way she saw him. But maybe with time, things would be more clear.
"It's the truth, Swan."
"Do you trust me?"
"Aye."
"Do you want me?" He nodded immediately, his hold on her tightening, whether or not he realized it. Her lips curved up to a small smile at that, and she not so secretly loved how sure and certain he was in this.
"Yes."
"Would you ever hurt me?" she asked, her voice breaking slightly, and the pain of her past surging up in darkened memories.
"I might, love, but Gods strike me down if I do, because it's the last thing in the world I'd ever want."
"And that's how I know," she whispered. Looking at him with new conviction, willing him to believe her. "That's the difference with you, Killian. I see you, I see your heart, and I know you see me. Not the savior, not the sheriff, not the lost little girl or the woman with walls. You see me. Just me."
"You're all I see, Swan. Have been for some time."
She didn't know who started their next kiss, but she felt the frenzy of it all the same. It was just as magnificent as before, but this time sincerity simmered throughout as well. The understanding they were reaching made it all the better. Knowing they were both going to jump here gave her comfort, but there were still some words to say.
"I don't really know how to do this," she admitted, running her hand across his chest as their foreheads touched. She looked down to avoid an embarrassing exchange. Patiently he waited, but when she stayed stock still, he tilted back and brought up his hook. He gently nudged her chin back up, prompting her to see that there was nothing like judgment in his eyes.
'Neither do I. But we'll see it through. Together."
"I'm not good at letting people in."
This time he grinned, looking like a man who was up for the challenge of scaling her walls. She almost rolled her eyes until he took her hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss upon it. It was an intimate gesture that made her heart soar. Who was this man who could be so roughish and rough one moment and yet gentle and sweet the next?
"That makes two of us."
"I'm going to fuck this up," she affirmed, assured of the missteps she would make and wanting him to realize she was so much less than perfect.
Now he looked frustrated, and his voice ground out in a graveled, gruff tone. "Not possible."
"How do you know?"
'Because you're you, Swan," he murmured, pressing sweet kisses to her face, to her neck and jaw, then her lips once more. "You're rare and remarkable and real. You can do anything you set your mind to, anything but push me away. I'm in this, Emma. Entirely and completely. It's soon to admit that, but you deserve the truth, and you'll always hear it from me."
"I really want to trust you," she whispered, clutching onto his shirt and letting this one last worry live between them.
"And someday you will. In the meantime, I can wait. I will wait. As long as it takes." That was all it took. Peace finally claimed her, and something in her settled.
"Okay," she murmured, leaning in to hug him and basking in his heat and the gentle thrumming of his heart.
"Okay," he replied, a lilted whisper in her hair as he held her close.
They remained out there for a while more, but neither needed to say anything for them to realize what must come next. Emma needed to go home, and he would see her there, safe and sound. They walked together, down Main Street in the moonlight, hand in hand, with the closeness of lovers, and the poise of two similar souls seeking comfort in each other. No one was around to see them, but Emma knew they would very soon. She wasn't going to hide this, and someday they'd walk in the light together, letting everyone know exactly where they stood.
When they were back by the loft, Emma stalled, not wanting this to end. She wished she could invite him up for a drink, a drink that would no doubt turn to more, but she couldn't. Instead, they needed to say goodbye for now, but she found she wasn't sure how.
Killian took the moment to pull her in, kissing her one last time, and saying again with actions what words could only half describe. This kiss was sweet but insistent, a reminder and a promise of all that he would give and all that they could have if they chose to be together. When they broke apart, Emma was certain in him and in herself. This was happening. This was right.
"Until tomorrow then, love," he whispered, pressing one last kiss upon her cheek.
"Good night, Killian."
His eyes lit up and he smiled at her use of his real name. She made a promise to herself that she would use it more often. He waited for her to go inside, and only when she'd done so did he finally walk away. Leaning against the wooden door, Emma sighed in relief and smiled.
This is the start of something good. Something true. Something… happy.
And with those final thoughts, Emma headed back to bed, and found that sleep came swiftly, bringing with it dreams she hoped would come to pass.
…..
If I gave you every piece of me, I know that you could drop it
Give you the chance, I know that you could take advantage once you got it
If I open up my heart to you, I know that you could lock it
Throw away the key and keep it there forever in your pocket
If I gave the opportunity to you, then would you blow it?
If I was the greatest thing that happened to you, would you know it?
If my love was like a flower, would you plant it, would you grow it?
I might give you all my body, are you strong enough to hold it?
If I show you all my demons
And we dive into the deep end
Would we crash and burn like every time before?
I would tell you all my secrets
Wrap your arms around my weakness
If the only other option's letting go
I'll stay vulnerable, yeah
I'll stay vulnerable, yeah
I'll stay vulnerable
If I hand you my emotion, would you even want to take it?
If I give you all my trust now, would you fumble it and break it?
If I let you cross my finish line, then would you wanna make it?
I think I'm ready, won't you come and flip the switch and activate it?
If I show you all my demons
And we dive into the deep end
Would we crash and burn like every time before?
I would tell you all my secrets
Wrap your arms around my weakness
If the only other option's letting go
I'll stay vulnerable, yeah
I'll stay vulnerable, yeah
I'll stay vulnerable
If I show you all my demons
And we dive into the deep end
Would we crash and burn like every time before?
I would tell you all my secrets
Wrap your arms around my weakness
If the only other option's letting go
I'll stay vulnerable, yeah
I'll stay vulnerable, yeah
If I show you all my demons
And we dive into the deep end
Would we crash and burn like every time before? (I'll stay vulnerable)
I would tell you all my secrets
Wrap your arms around my weakness
If the only other option's letting go
(I'll stay vulnerable, yeah)
Post-Note: So, what did you think? Honestly, I had no intentions of writing this chapter right now. I knew the song needed to be in the mixtape, as I love it, and it fits so well with this series of CS love stories, but I have a number of other fics I am working on now that need attending to. Nevertheless, here we are, and luckily, this has proved to be the perfect palate cleanse for my other writing. My multichapter stories will be back soon. I've already started writing, and in the meantime, we all get an added little romantic bonus. Hope you enjoyed this dose of fluff, thank you all for reading, and know that I'm wishing you safe, healthy, and well. xE.