AN- Lot's of dialogue coming your way and kind of a filler chapter. Things are getting darker for our couple and as such I must warn you that this has mentions of some NON-CON sexual contact that may be triggering to some of you so please proceed with caution. I don't go into much detail but some of the feelings associated with the aftermath may be particularly difficult to read. I don't condone rape or sexual assult in any capacity, and I don't take the addition of this lightly. I am not glorifying it and it isn't pleasant or sexually pleasing in any way, but it is necessary to move the plot along for what I have planned. So apologize to some of you who might not enjoy reading this. But for those of you brave enough to read it, here it is…
Down the Rabbit Hole
Chapter Four
Emma winced behind her closed eyelids, her stomach gurgling as a wave of nausea hit her. She wriggled uncomfortably against the ache in her head and the taste of bile rising up in her throat. She collided with a warm body beside her — her sweat-soaked skin sliding against the warm firm body next to her.
Her eyes flew open at the sound of soft rhythmic snoring to find herself completely naked — her body nearly flush with the man beside her, who apparently also enjoyed sleeping in the nude. She barely had time to register what was happening — her hand flew over her mouth, using her other hand to pull the sheet over herself protectively as she crawled to the edge of the bed and emptied the contents of her stomach.
She dry heaved, gasping and moaning as she clutched the footboard — her body arching forward in agony.
"Well that's a first. That's normally the first reaction from a woman who has just spent the night in my bed." He smirked devilishly as he lounged on the bed, his head resting upon the headboard.
She turned toward him, sneering as she breathed heavily before wiping the remaining traces of vomit from her lips with her forearm. "You're actually enjoying this aren't you?" She asked, her voice hoarse and strained.
He tilted his head curiously as if thinking about how to respond to the question, an award silence falling over them before he moved to retrieve a wooden pipe from his nightstand and stuck it between his lips. Captain Morston flicked his eyes toward her as he lit a match and ignited the end of his pipe. "No." He answered calmly, blowing a large plume of smoke in her direction making her gag. "I don't particularly like watching people get sick." He stated before taking another drag of his pipe, inhaling deeply before releasing it.
"What a gentleman." Emma said sarcastically as she fanned the smoke from her face.
"You didn't allow me to finish. Manners!" He chided, lifting his pipe up slightly, the smoke floating into the air with the action. "What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that I adore seeing people in distress…"
"You would." She grumbled.
"My offer to have you gagged is still in effect, or shall I stuff your mouth with something more enjoyable?" He cocked a suggestive eyebrow in her direction, narrowing his gaze. When Emma closed her mouth, Morston smiled and nodded. "Now that's much better. At least you can follow direction… Now, where was I? Oh, yes. I love to see people suffer but I fear your misery only prolongs my waiting to slip inside your hot little cunt. I promised you I would let you recover but I am a very impatient man."
Emma glared at him intensely and hugged the sheets closer to her body, wondering why he was lying to her.
"For heaven's sake girl. I may be a pirate but I am a man of my word. When I have you I won't you to be fully awake and alert to what I am doing to you." He provided.
"That doesn't give me any sort of comfort." She said matter of factly. "Besides there is evidence here that points to the contrary." She pointed out, referring to her nudity.
"My Gods. Relax." He stated, his speech muffled because of the pipe sticking out from his mouth before pulling in another lung full of smoke. "You passed out after I brought you back to the cabin-"
"Killian!" She shrieked. "What did you do to him?" She demanded with pursed lips.
"Am I ever going to get a word in edgewise here?" He asked, annoyed by her constant interruption.
Emma nodded for him to continue, holding her questions in for the time being.
"Thank you." He let out a long winded breath before starting over. "You nearly collapsed as soon as i got you back to my quarters — you were quite feverish." He recanted the tale. "I took the liberty of undressing you and I must say you are truly magnificent." He said, dropping his voice down into a low timbre and licked his lips.
"What. Did. You. Do."
"Nothing you weren't already offering." He chuckled.
"Yousonofabitch-" She growled before hurling herself over him to attack him.
The captain continued to laugh, taking pleasure in her fight as he held her back with a firm grip on her wrists. "If you wanted a ride, all you had to do was ask nicely." He smirked in amusement.
Emma screamed out in frustration before thrusting herself off of him, settling herself against the wall as she curled her knees into her chest. "You are disgusting. I'd rather kill myself then allow you to-"
"Allow me to what? Run my hands all over those sensuous curves of yours? Rut myself against your hot little quim while stroking your inner thighs until I come?"
She sagged against the wall, shaking as she stared up at the ceiling, hot tears falling from her eyes as she sobbed quietly. She had never felt more ugly — more disgusting — more violated then she had in her whole life.
"I promised I wouldn't fuck you. Like I said, man of my word. The way I see if I did you a favor. Without my body heat to keep you warm you would have died. Speaking of dying you probably feel like shit right now. I will have a member of the crew bring you some sustenance. We need to rebuild your strength." He said before throwing off the covers to reveal himself in all of his naked glory.
Emma clasped her hand over her mouth, gagging as she fought off the urge to vomit at the sight of him. Just the sound of his voice made her skin crawl. "May I have my clothes back?" She asked, her voice muffled underneath her hand.
"That depends. Are you going to run away again?" He asked as he shoved his legs into his pants.
She grimaced, slamming her eyes shut as she shook her head furiously.
"They are drying but I believe you are in need of a shirt so I suppose I will allow you to borrow one of mine. Adjust to my scent." He licked his lips lewly. "But the second you are better I intend to keep you naked and occupied in my bed."
"A bath." She muttered, pushing herself against the wall in frustration as hot angry tears rolled down her face.
"What was that?" He asked, cupping his ear to hear her. "Use that silver tongue I know you have." He nodded his head toward her as he stood in front of her, his pants undone bearing the trail of hair leading underneath the opening as he shoved his arms into his white shirt.
"A bath." Emma said again, this time more confidently. "I would like a bath brought up to me."
He let out a short laugh before sliding the shirt onto his body. "You aren't in a position to make demands. You've done nothing but offend me — my crew — tossing my hospitality in my face. What makes you think I would do anything for you?"
"Not a request. A favor." She amended.
"A favor, huh? I will take it into consideration — that's if you can prove to me that you are worth the trouble. Show me even the faintest hint of ingratitude I will rethink it." He rolled the shirt over his abs, the muscles chording underneath the sheer material.
She watched him as he tugged on his boots and adjusted his ponytail — barely able to mask her distaste for the man before her.
"Now stay put." He told her before taking his leave.
Emma felt the waves crashing against the ship, rocking back and forth in the ocean as she collapsed onto the bed, gripping the sheets as a strangled scream ripped from her throat — her entire body quaking as she sucked in shallow breaths against her strained cries.
Killian perched himself upward, clasping his bruised ribs at the sound of heavy footsteps walking along the long hallway of the brig. The distinct sound of whistling assaulted his ears — a familiar sea shanty.
The whistling grew louder as the faint noise of metal striking against the bars of the cell block in a rhythmic fashion that only added to the creepiness of the dramatic song on the lips of the man who approached him.
The sound stopped for a moment and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of his own breathing. Suddenly there was a crash against the bars that startled him backwards as he was faced with Captain Morston.
"Boo." He cackled.
Killian rolled his eyes, annoyed at the other man's childish antics. "You know maybe I'm giving you far more credit than you deserve because that was-" He couldn't even find the words to describe how bizarre the other man was. "You've become quite unhinged since last we met. You know revenge will do that to a person. I would know."
Morston pushed his forearm over his head and leaned himself against the bars before sliding the curved metal of Killian's hook against the bars making a high-pitched screeching sound.
Killian glared at him unflinchingly. "You honestly think that scares me? Do you plan to kill me by boring me to death? You might want to rethink that plan." He quipped.
"No. Not really." Morston shook his head, twisting the hook in his hand knowing full well that his possession of it drove the man in the cell crazy. "I just have a flair for the dramatic. Is it working?"
"No. Not at all." Killian confessed.
"Pity." The man tisked. "I can't say the same for your wench."
Killian released a violent hiss, slamming his arm against the bars in a display of blind rage.
"Ah. There's that fight I love to see so much." Morston commented, his lips curling into a grotesque-looking smile. "Yeah. She seems to be a bit of a soft spot for you."
"What did you do, snake?" Killian snarled, his dark features tensing with anger.
"Nothing that wasn't already promised to me the moment I held a pistol to your handsome head." He told him as he traced his hand over the hook, testing its sharp end.
"If you so much as looked at her inappropriately-"
"I could spend hours buried inside that lovely cunt — to feel her writhing underneath me, begging me not to stop as she screamed my name in ecstasy." He laughed in delight as the veins in Killian's forehead popped out.
Killian inhaled deeply, sucking the air up into his nose like a raging bull. "Take good care of my hook because the next time you see it… it will be buried in your neck."
"We'll see about that." The man taunted him. "Speaking of seeing about things. I noticed you haven't touched your food." He commented, toeing the gruel sitting in a bowl near the edge of the cell.
"Like I would eat anything you gave me." Killian scowled.
"Afraid of returning to the darkness? I'm sure you remember what it feels like — your muscles relax, the world around you fades away along with all of your troubles and you slip into contented bliss."
"Never. Again." He swore to himself.
"We both know how this works. Once an addict, always an addict. I just hope your lovely woman lives long enough to see your second fall from grace." Morston said.
"Your tongue will be the first thing I take from you." He vowed, his voice trailing down to the man's crotch. "Followed by your cock — while you are still breathing."
"You have a very vivid imagination my friend. Now, I'm going to pretend to forget all of this hostility for the time being and afford you this small kindness." He began.
"I want nothing from you." Killian shook his head.
"You should expect a visit from my surgeon to tend to your wounds." The man started to roll up his sleeves to rest just above his wrist.
"I don't want it." Killian grimaced.
"Well that's just too damn bad. You see… I need you to live long enough to see the last vestiges of hope leave her eyes — to know that you failed her. To watch her suffer so that I can watch you helplessly as the light leaves her eyes…" The man released a biting laugh at Killian's reaction. "Hang in there Hook — for both our sakes." He said before walking away leaving Hook in his dark and dank cell.
Emma sat against the bed in the farthest corner, hugging her knees to her chest, the sheet draped against her naked body to preserve her modesty. She rubbed her cheek against her knee, sucking back tears in her bloodshot eyes when there was a knock at the door.
Morston strode into the cabin, his presence making Emma jolt up, but refusing to make direct eye contact with him. She couldn't stand the sight of him — the mere thought of him made her stomach churn.
"Oh don't look so sad." The corner of Morston's lips turned up into a lazy grin at her expense as he balanced the tray of food in one hand and kicked the door shut with his foot. "Come on why don't you try a smile once in a while? I'm treating you pretty well, wouldn't you say?" He wondered, his eyes flicking to hers as he set the tray of food down on the bed.
"Depends on your definition." She muttered, turning her head away from him as the curtain of long blonde hair covered her face.
"We had an agreement. Don't make me regret it." He warned. "Well?" He gestured to the food in front her before stroking his chin. "Tuck in." He provided. "Come on…" He bid, taking a seat on the bed across from her, the mattress dipping slightly with the action. "The fruit will make you feel better." He grabbed a slice of apple from the tray and popped it into his mouth, allowing the juices to run down his throat.
"Please? Just indulge me." He rolled his eyes, holding out another piece of fruit for her to take.
Emma released a hard sigh before begrudgingly taking the apple slice from his hand, making sure to keep a hold on the sheet to prevent him from ogling her. She looked at the apple slice in her palm and back to him to see his nod of encouragement before pushing it into her mouth, chewing as slowly as humanly possible to see if she could discern anything amiss with it.
Truth be told she was starving and the offering of food before her looked rather tempting despite the possible danger. Sitting on a silver tray was a variety of cured meats, cheese, grapes, and apple slices.
"Go on, help yourself." He said before plucking a grape from its vine and eating it with delight.
"I know what you're trying to do." She glared at him skeptically.
"And what might that be?" He gave a devilish smirk.
"You're trying to win me over." She noted, before sampling some of the meats on the tray, trying to hide the moan of contentment from her lips as she swallowed.
"Is it working?" He jeered.
"I'm not so easily won over and I don't want to get your hopes up but I will never be yours. I belong to no one." She narrowed her gaze, her words confident and absolute as she spoke.
"That's quite disappointing. Not for me but for our dear friend Hook. I was under the impression that you two were quite attached and shall I say familiar with one another in the carnal sense?" He teased before lifting a glass of wine to his lips and sipping deeply.
"That is my business." She said sternly.
"It's a shame really because you had so much to say on the beach last night. Perhaps I misheard you. That is my mistake." He maneuvered himself into a relaxing position on the bed, lounging with his legs together and propped up on his elbow.
"No you heard me correctly. Make no mistake about it, that man is a fantastic lover, but I'm afraid diving into that would bruise your annoyingly large and fragile ego. I don't want to offend you by talking about something you will never have." She scowled at him.
"Tell me…" He scooted forward until he was mere inches away from him.
Emma tensed at his proximity, wrinkling her nose with disgust as she tilted her head away from him.
"How does he touch you?" He asked lustfully, his voice dropping to a gruff whisper.
Emma inhaled sharply, her lip quivering as he pushed her hair back from her shoulder.
"Does he touch you here?" He brushed his knuckles against her shoulder.
The feel of him against her made her skin crawl and she grimaced as he trailed down her arm.
"Your skin is so soft and delicate." He murmured. "You have no idea how tempting you are my dear."
Emma held her eyes shut tightly under his attentions as she tried to swallow the cries threatening to break free — she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her completely breakdown. "Please. Can you not?" She attempted to get him to lay off by giving him a sideways glance.
"I don't want to but seeing as though you asked so nicely, I suppose I can indulge you in your request." He allowed before departing from her shivering form.
"Thank you." She released the breath she was holding in.
"Speaking of requests. I've decided to honor the one you gave me and I've taken the liberty of ordering a bath to be brought up here." He confirmed.
Emma perked up at the mention of a bath, thankful for him agreeing to allow her a bath.
"I will so enjoy watching you wash that smooth creamy skin of yours. I long to see your sighs of satisfaction as you submerge yourself into the warm water — the contentment of cleaning yourself with a cloth — rubbing it all over your lithe little body. It feels a little unfair doesn't? Maybe I should invite a few of my crew to view the show as well?" He suggested.
"You wouldn't." She nearly shouted in horror.
"No. While I enjoy a rapt audience. I'm inclined to keep all to myself." He fiddled with the fitted sheet on the bed before meeting her gaze.
"Would it be too much to ask for a little privacy?" She asked, trying to appeal to whatever shred of kindness he may have left in that foul loathsome body of his. When he didn't make an attempt to answer her she added, "I would be very grateful for this one simple kindness."
"That's what the bath was for and besides I don't trust you." He told her earnestly, tapping the edge of his glass.
"What could I possibly get up to in a bathtub? Drown myself? If I wanted to kill myself I could have done it last night if you can recall. You said it yourself, the bath would only help me to get better faster. Allowing me to have a long soak would ensure that. Are you honestly telling me that a busy pirate captain such as yourself has the time to spend watching a woman bathe?"
"For you?" He craned his neck outward. "I could spend several hours entertained by the sight of you naked. But I will allow it. Under one condition." He alluded.
Emma swallowed hard, not wanting to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue. "And what might that be?" She wondered.
"That when I have you — you will submit to me completely. I still expect you to scream to your heart's content. In fact I expected that to be the case but I don't want you to put up a fight. Do you understand me?" He asked her for confirmation.
She nodded her head silently.
"See? I can be reasonable. You show me a little kindness and I can return it just as well." He told her, reaching out to touch her face only to have her flinch away from him. "Well I will leave you to it." He patted the bed before getting off and stumbling over to the wardrobe to fish out one of his shirts and placed it on the bed. "I believe this was your other request." He gestured to the garment. "I shall have your dried clothes brought up along with the bath. Pleasant bathing." He said, turning on his heel to leave.
He paused at the door, turning around to address her once more. "I should let you know that your pirate is alive… for now. I've sent for my surgeon to look over him."
"I don't understand." She shook her head in confusion.
"I can't break an already broken man. Just like I can't fuck a woman on the verge of dying. I wish to prolong the pleasures that sex and violence give me, and I can't do that without healing you first." He explained with a crooked smile. "I will check on you later." He put his hand on the handle, the door giving way before departing.
Several minutes later Emma was greeted with the promised bath — the large wooded basin covered in a fine white cloth being filled with boiling water by a young deckhand.
"Thank you." Emma said curtly, rubbing her shoulders as the steam wafting up from the bath filled the room.
"It is my pleasure, Miss." The boy, who couldn't be more than twelve said politely in a thick accent.
"I don't mean to be rude, but just how old are you?" She asked him curiously.
"I'm only but eleven and three quarters mam." He answered.
She mouthed "oh" but it had yet to sate her curiosity completely. "What's your name?"
"Timothy mam."
"Thank you Timothy." She said with honest eyes, feeling pity for the boy who felt that his only option for survival here was a contract on a pirate ship.
"It's no bother mam. I should be done but a moment." He said roughly before sticking his hand in the water to test the temperature. "I've left ya a fresh towel and I shall return with your clothes." He bowed his head before staggering out of the room to give her some much needed privacy.
She glanced toward the door to make sure she was completely alone and crawled over to the edge of the bed before swinging her feet and planting them on the floor. Holding on to the sheet like a security blanket, she tiptoed to the basin and hovered over it, allowing the steam to seep into her skin for respite.
Emma lifted a cautious foot to the edge, dipping her toes in carefully. A sigh of relief left her lips and she sank her entire leg into the water, loosening the grip on her sheet until it fell away. She swung her other leg into the tub and grasped the edges as she submerged herself into its warm relaxing depths. She leaned back against the tub, moaning softly as the water lapped at her skin, hugging her body securely in its comforting embrace.
"Sorry mam. I beg your pardon." Timothy's voice sounded from the door. Looking up from the bath she could see him poking his small blond head in.
She sank further down, allowing the water to cover the majority of her body before letting the boy with innocent intent to come forward with her previously discarded clothing.
"My apologies madam. I tried my best to get the smell of salt out but it was just too deep. I did my best honest." He said, holding up her clothing so she could see it.
"You did a good job." She told him with a small smile. The boy reminded her of her son.
Henry.
She couldn't even imagine Henry, nearly the same age as the boy in front of her, confined to a ship under such a cruel leader. "Can I ask you a question Timothy?"
"Whatever you like mam." He nodded.
"Where is your family?" She wondered, canting her head with a maternal expression gracing her features.
"Aint got one." He said before bowing his head. "I was brought here by the rabbits just after I lost my folks." There was a hint of sadness in his voice, yet so much content for his life as if he didn't know much else.
"How long ago was that?"
"I don't remember mam. But I assume I was only shy of five years young." He remembered.
"You know. Something very similar happened to me when I was a baby. My parents-" She swallowed hard before continuing. "They left me alone in a different world. They loved me very much but they did it to give me my best chance. And if I can pay that kindness back I hope to do the same for you." She promised.
"I'm not sure what that means. But the mistress is very kind." He afforded her a small smile before bowing and leaving her alone.
Emma retrieved a bar of soap and a cloth, rubbing the suds into the fabric before running it over her skin. Her shoulders began to shake creating ripples in the tub as she began to scrub the man's phantom touch on her skin. She watched as she dug into her skin trying to wash him away from her memory until her flesh was pink and raw — burning to the touch as her body was wrecked with strangled sobs.
Killian listened as several footsteps fell against the corridor and he scooted to his knees until he met the resistance of the cell bars and curled his hand around it in an attempt to see who approached him.
"Jones." The man before him gave him a conflicted nod before he sank down into a squatting position to look his injuries over. "Timothy, fetch my bag for me. I'm going to need it." He told the boy next to him, not even lifting his eyes from his inspection of Hook.
Killian turned his attention toward the small blond-headed child as he hurried to do the man's bidding.
"I was there you know…" The man told him.
"Pardon?"
"I was there the night you torched the ship. I watched as many of my brethren burned alive. I was lucky enough to escape but I've carried the scars of that day with me for the last two years." He lamented, gazing up at him from the spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose.
"I'm not that man anymore." Killian stated, slight regret coloring his expression.
"People don't change overnight." He countered.
"This one does." He nodded assuredly.
"I didn't want to come here but I was under direct orders from the captain to tend to you. Truth be told I would like nothing more than to see him gut you like the swine you are. But I'm loyal to my captain."
"He is a very lucky man to have you under his charge then." He agreed.
"Here's your bag sir." The boy held up the bag in his hands for the man to see.
"Thank you Timothy. You would be smart to back away from the door Hook. I don't want to have to use force in your condition." He instructed, rising to his feet as the boy held the back — Hook assumed to assist him.
"I won't give you any resistance." He promised, backing away slowly until his back hit the back wall and he winced in concealed pain.
"It's a good thing we're here. Your bones are most likely going to have to be reset. But I believe after years of seafaring you are acclimated to this type of procedure?" He asked, gesturing for Timothy to close the door of the cell behind them.
Killian clutched his side and nodded as he grimaced.
"Now I don't have a comfortable workspace with which to treat you on so this will have to do." He told him as he sank to his knees as the deckhand opened up a large blanket, waving it through the air before letting it tumble down on the floor of the cell.
Killian watched as the boy placed a pillow at the base of the makeshift operating room — hearing the sounds of the doctor rummaging through his bag to take out the equipment he would need to work on him.
"Well?" The man addressed him. "I don't have all day. Strip down." He ordered impatiently before returning to his surgery materials.
Killian exhaled annoyed by the request but began to shed the clothing from his body anyway, starting at his hefty leather coat he had refused to take off since he got there. He shook out his body at the loss of the additional weight and began to pluck at the fastenings of his vest before that too hit the floor with an audible clunk. Lastly, he pulled the shirt over his head, the toned muscles of his chest rippling under his dark matted chest hair. He could now finally see the angry purple bruises coming to the surface of his skin. He ran his ringed fingers, the cold metal brushing against his injuries as the memory of each one came rushing back under his closed eyelids as he hissed.
"I'm afraid I still have your lass to tend to. So if you'd hurry." He rushed him along, breaking him out of his trancelike state.
"Of course." He agreed with a singular nod.
The boy came to his side, wrapping his arm around him and placed the other at his side as he helped to slowly ease Hook down onto the blanket.
Killian wiggled uncomfortably, his head lolling over to where the doctor sat beside him, once again looking over him with a trained eye, accessing his injuries to figure out where to start first.
"The puncture wound to your neck doesn't appear to be deep. It actually looks like it's already starting to heal." He told him.
Killian's hand crossed his chest to touch his neck where his hook had been painfully dug into his neck. There were still streaks of dried blood on his neck.
"Timothy, do you mind washing him up a bit? I need a clean surface." He glanced up at the boy who busied himself with wetting a cloth into a small basin of water.
Killian flinched as the boy ran the cool wash cloth over his heated skin, wiping up the remnants of blood from his flesh.
"Yeah. That's better. Thank you Timothy." He nodded toward his assistant. "Timothy I'm going to need you to sit behind him and hold him up. I need him upright for this part." He barked out his instruction.
"Yes, sire." He agreed before settling behind Hook, raising him off the ground and tucked his arms underneath the other man's armpits to steady him so that his body was off the ground.
Killian leaned against the small child, silently admiring the boy's strength before his head turned to the doctor who held a thick wooden dile in his hand.
"I suppose you know what this is?" He tilted the object in his hand for him to see.
"Aye." He gritted his teeth in recognition.
"Open." The older man requested, hovering over him.
Killian stretched his mouth open as the bit was placed in his mouth, clenching his jaw as his teeth closed around it.
"Hold him steady now Timothy. I'm going to have to push his ribs back into place because they are dislocated." He told the boy before using his hands to test the bruised flesh eliciting a groan of pain from the man below him. "They are dislocated all right. Are you ready?" He nodded to Hook, who nodded his confirmation.
The surgeon gripped his side, digging his hands into skin to feel for the right spot before twisting hard as a loud snapping sound echoed through the cell.
Killian screamed in agony — the bit in his mouth preventing him from making his pain known to the rest of the world.
The doctor paused for a moment allowing Killian to recover for a brief moment before returning to his task. "Okay." He warned before cracking the bones back into their places.
Killian shouted behind his voluntary gag, the muscles in his chest constricting as he flinched away from the other man's touch. Killian's face wrinkled in pain, grunting as he bared down on the bit as he shook violently, sweat beating his brow.
"Last one." The doctor told him.
Killian nodded his understanding, his chest heaving as another flash of pain rippled through him, his body bowing against the strain, his booted feet skidding against the ground as if he were trying to run in place.
"There you're done." The doctor announced.
Killian sank back against the boy in relief, hoping that the boy could bear his weight as he struggled to catch his breath, spitting the bit out of his mouth as a long strand of saliva dribbled down his mouth.
"All we have to do now is disinfect some of your wounds and wrap you up so that we can keep your ribs in place while you heal." He explained.
"Thank you." He exhaled, the hairs on his head sticking to his forehead as he trembled.
"Timothy here is my apprentice. He will see to the rest of your treatment. I assure you, you are in good hands." The doctor stated before getting up and retreating wordlessly from the cell.
Killian's tongue darted from his lips trying to lash at the spit gathered around his lips as the boy began to busy himself with the pirate's dressings.
"How did you get them injuries?" Timothy asked as he began to unravel the dressings needed to bind Killian's ribs.
Killian's eyes darted over to the boy — come to think of it the boy kind of reminded him of Swan's son. The thought of it made him frown — he had to bring her home safely even if it meant at the cost of his own life.
"Sir?" Timothy spoke up, tilting his head in question, holding the bindings in his hands.
"It's Killian." He amended. "My name is Killian. Sir is far too formal and I'm sure your captain wouldn't appreciate the formalities." Killian flinched as he managed to get himself into a seated position, baring his weight on his good hand as he leaned forward.
"My apologies." He said.
"No need boy. I believe it's I who should be apologizing." Killian replied, glancing over his shoulder.
"Whatever for?" He asked, sitting down next to Killian to unfurl the rest of the gauze.
"You've gone through all this trouble to save a dying man." He provided with an uneasy smile.
"From what I can see you're a capable chap. Kinda like cap.'" He settled between Killian's legs to begin wrapping the middle of Killian's upper body.
"Aye." He nearly shouted as he hit a particularly tender spot as he made sure the bindings were nice and tight. "That I am. A captain I mean." He affirmed, noting how the boy's eyes lit up.
"Where's your ship?" He cocked his head in interest.
"It's not here I'm afraid. I traded it." Killian lifted his eyes to the boy's to read his expression.
"A thought a captain's ship was his ol' life." Timothy supplied.
"Aye it is."
"So whydcha trade it for? Somethin good I ope.'"
"I traded it for a woman."
Timothy stuck out his tongue in disgust as he continued to wrap him up like a mummy.
"Yeah you say that now but just wait till you're older. You'll see." He assured him with a nod of his head.
"I'd neva." He spat.
Killian erupted into a hearty chuckle before it turned into a painful cough.
"I don't think I would trade my ship for anathang." He told him. "Specially not a woman."
"You would if you had seen this woman."
"You mean the mistress in the captain's cabin?"
That caught his attention immediately.
"Emma? You've seen her?" He jolted at the mention of her, his mind racing with thoughts of her.
The kid simply nodded in reply.
"Is she ok? Did he hurt her? Tell me!" He demanded, causing the boy's hands to shake. Killian steeled himself, reminding himself that he was only a boy. "My apologies. How is she?" He corrected, trying to stay level-headed.
"Sad sir." He answered honestly.
Killian cursed under his breath, tensing as the boy picked that time to tighten and close the bindings. "When did you last see her?" Killian gritted his teeth as it was pulled taut.
"Suppose an hour ago. Before Bill asked me to help him in ere." He said getting up to collect the remaining bandages. "I brought ere a bath. I didn't look though. Honest." He sputtered not wanting to anger the pirate further. "She's real nice."
Killian smiled at the knowledge. Swan would treat the boy well. He looked like a blond version of her boy. "Do you go there often? Can you give her a message for me?"
"I spose." He shrugged, grabbing alcohol to begin applying it to Killian's wounds to disinfect them.
"Ah! What the hell is that?"
"Rum. And a bloody waste of it."
Killian's lips turned up at the memory, his heart fluttering in his chest. "Tell her that I'm going get her back home if it's the last thing I do."
"Where's home?" The boy quirked an eyebrow in question.
"A place where you go and you just miss it…"
Emma glared at the oversized white linen shirt laying on the bed for her — the towel wrapped securely around her body as her wet hair dripped onto the floor. The shirt in question was entirely see-through with a wide v-neck opening that would barely be enough to cover her chest with two strings hanging down for decoration. It had long sleeves tapered with a ruffled hem — the entire thing screamed 'I'm a pirate.'
Rather than try on the shirt, she opted for something more familiar. Thankfully they had managed to bring her panties back intact. Emma pulled her legs through them and pushed them up her thighs before settling at her waist, the towel still secured to her body in case she was interrupted. Next she grabbed her jeans, waving them about to loosen the material before she stepped into them when the vile fell out from the pocket.
She couldn't even believe it — how did they not find it?
She closed her hand around the chain, wrapping it around her wrist and bringing it to eye-level. She turned it, inspecting it from various angles to determine its contents. Throwing caution to the wind, she opened the vile and brought it to her nose, breathing it in deeply as her pupils dilated. She coughed, wrinkling her nose as she pushed it away from her and secured the cork back on it.
Whatever it was — it was strong — and whatever it was it was valuable enough to hide. This — whatever it was could very well be her way out.
AN- Just as a reminder to address any possible confusion. Killian and Emma aren't together and they haven't slept together. This is a canon divergent fic so assume that anything prior to them falling down a portal happened and nothing else different. She is saying those things to A. make him angry B. to protect Hook C. to protect herself, because if he knew he hadn't touched her yet it would make her even more tempting to him. He really wants to see Killian suffer that is why he is prolonging things and dragging them out. He's playing the long game. Also I realized that Killian also sprained his wrist and that should have been wrapped as well. Just assume it was done after the line break when it shifted to Emma's POV. How is everyone enjoying the story? Are we ready for things to really get crazy?