Chapter Eleven

Another muffled scream slipped past the strip of leather gripped between Killian's teeth, his forehead beaded with sweat and slipping against Emma's collarbone as she tried to brace him while Whale dug out the bullet lodged in his side.

When they'd first arrived Whale had assessed Killian's shoulder first - You are one lucky bastard, Captain. If you're gonna get shot in the shoulder, this is the way to do it - then set up an IV and started transfusing blood to make up for the volume he'd lost. Needing to save the limited anesthetics he had in case Killian needed surgery on the shoulder later, they'd opted to dig out the ricocheted bullet, caught in one of his ribs, the old-fashioned way. Propped up on an elevated surface, Killian sat with Emma standing between his knees so she could help support him while Whale went to work.

Killian's fingers were gripping her hips painfully, sure to leave bruises, but Emma didn't care. Every pained grunt and agonizing scream tore through her. The hot, ragged exhales puffing against her skin as he tried to catch his breath in the brief reprieves Whale gave him made her skin break out in a sheen of cold sweat, matching the clamminess of his. Her hands, stained a deep crimson, felt tacky as they tried to apply soothing touches down his back and over his chest, desperate to do anything that might alleviate his suffering and knowing her murmured words were being drowned out by his stifled cries.

"Nearly got it," Whale declared. The long tweezer-like instrument he was using to try and grab onto the projectile twisted and sank deeper into Killian's flesh, causing him to scream again. The leather strap fell from his mouth and his uninjured arm wrapped around Emma, crushing her to him as Whale pulled the bullet out and deposited onto a nearby tray with a metallic clink.

A few sutures later, Killian was bandaged, wrapped, shoulder set in a sling, and given enough pain meds to knock out a horse. Emma and Whale half carried, half dragged him to a room where he could lie down and rest, then Whale left Emma to tend vigil while he cleaned up, waving her off when she offered to help.

He was too still, too pale, the even rise and fall of his chest the only thing keeping her from completely falling apart as she held his hand, too cold, too limp, unable to return her grip as she threaded their fingers together. As much as she wanted to be right here beside him when he woke up, Emma knew just sitting here, worrying, would absolutely drive her crazy. She needed to keep busy. She needed to distract herself from the way her world was suddenly falling apart around her.

She needed her laptop and files so she could figure out who was behind all of this.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she crossed the room and dialed Robin. Usually, he didn't answer calls, preferring to communicate via text, which was why she hadn't realized the hitman had been a fake, since she'd never seen or spoken to Robin before. Fortunately, given what happened earlier, he answered this time, and she let out a relieved breath that she recognized his voice.

"Emma? How is he? Is he-"

"He's okay," she assured him, mentally kicking herself for not calling sooner. "Whale was able to patch him up. He's resting now."

"Good." A shaky breath sent static through the line. "That's good. I'll let Liam and Brennan-"

"They know?" Emma whispered-shouted. "I thought Killian told you to-"

"Hyde told Liam and Brennan. He had to. Killian was supposed to be meeting with them, so he had to tell them something when he didn't show." Perhaps sensing her next question, he rushed to add, "Whale works out of a few different locations, and I haven't told either of them which one you're at, but it wouldn't take long for them to find out. Fortunately, they're busy overseeing the clean-up and determining who the men sent to kill you were."

Emma chewed her lip, torn between asking Robin to bring her laptop and files over, and letting him go on with the tasks Killian had assigned him. Ultimately, she chose to let him carry on looking into who orchestrated the hit. The information might be the clue they needed to identify the rat (assuming it was the rat who set her up and not…), and she already had Jefferson working on the initials. Besides, Emma knew Robin was also clandestinely getting her go-bag ready, and as much as she didn't want to run, she wanted to be prepared for any eventuality.

"Do me a favor?" Emma asked, pausing until Robin prompted her to continue. "Give me a head's up if Liam or Brennan ask about our location, or if they come looking?"

"I will," he promised. "And you let me know if there's any change, yeah?"

"I will."

~/~

His entire left side was on fire, blistering in his side and smoldering at his shoulder. He didn't even have the energy to groan, much less open his eyes, but something had pulled him from the drug-induced slumber Whale had put him under. It was as though he were trapped in a fabled sleeping curse, semi-aware of his surroundings, but unable to engage with the world around him.

A door slammed in the distance. Shouts of protest were being exchanged. Destructive noises of things being shoved or thrown out the way made their way closer as hands landed on his chest, trying to shake him awake.

"Killian!" Emma's voice was frantic in his ears, but he still had not the power to respond. "Killian, Liam's here! Liam's here and he thinks I-"

"Don't deny it!" his brother's voice boomed, filling the room with an audible rage that made Killian's blood run cold. "I know it was you. You set my brother up."

What? How in the bloody hell had he come to that ludicrous conclusion?

"The messages sent to those men, ordering the hit at the warehouse, were all sent from the burner cell we found and catalogued before returning it to the glove compartment of your vehicle the first time we had your bug towed to Billy's."

No. That's… the burner phone was… bloody fuck, wake up!

"You sent the order. You tried to have my brother killed."

"No!" Emma protested, frantically.

Killian finally managed to pry his eyes open, and the scene before him made his heart seize even as rage now set his blood to boiling. Standing at the foot of the bed he was lying prone in was Emma, hands raised as she pleaded with his enraged brother, who had his gun pointed squarely at her, neither of them noticing his movements.

"Liam, I swear! It wasn't me. I would never do anything to hurt Killian. The set up was ordered by a r-"

"I'm not interested in anymore of your lies," Liam seethed, pulling back on the slide to cock the pistol. "I have all the proof I need of your treachery, and I'm not gonna let you-"

"There's only one problem, brother," Killian grunted, pulling Liam's and Emma's attention towards him… and the gun he'd found laying on the table beside him, aimed directly at his brother as he struggled to sit up.

"That burner phone was taken from Emma's bug the night you had it towed from The Brig." With a grimace pulling at his features, he flicked off the safety, then set his sights on Liam once more. "Tell me you didn't, brother," Killian implored. "Tell me you didn't order a hit on Swan the moment I told you we were coming back early. Tell me it wasn't you, because I know for a fact Emma had nothing to do with it. She was the target, not me."

"Her? Who, besides us, would want her dead?"

"You mean besides you," Killian shot back. "I told you from the beginning we could trust her, but you've had it out for her since that first conversation on the Jolly Roger. If not for the possibility that Emma was set up by the traitor within our ranks I would have already-"

"Traitor? What traitor?" Flicking his gun towards Emma, Liam insisted, "She's the only traitor."

"No," Killian panted. The effort to keep himself upright and the gun lifted was taking its toll. "We have a rat within our organization, brother. I've… I've known... for weeks. Long before Swan was recruited. It's why I… why I wanted the use... of her skills… in the first place. So, s-she could help me… identify him."

Unable to muster the necessary strength any longer, Killian slumped sideways. The movement tore his side and sent agony ripping through his shoulder. He tried to bite back the pain, but knew it was clearly expressed on his features, his face twisting from the torment.

"Killian!"

"Brother!"

Emma scrambled up the bed, helping to prop him back up and take the strain off his injured torso as Liam rushed to his other side and knelt beside the bed. His head lolled, and more pillows were placed behind and beside him before they eased him back so he could recline in the nest of cushions the two had arranged to support him.

"Killian," Liam clipped, tapping his hand against Killian's cheek in an attempt to rouse him. "Little brother, wake up."

"Younger," Killian groused, forcing his eyelids open. "It's younger brother, you git."

A rare smile twitched at the corner of his brother's lips and his hand came up to cup his cheek. "Younger brother," he relented, softly. The tenderness lasted for only a moment before his expression turned serious, his gaze meaningful as it connected with Killian's.

"It wasn't me," Liam vowed, his eyes flicking in Emma's direction to impart to her, "I didn't order the hit on you." When his gaze returned to Killian's, it overflowed with the acceptance that all Killian had told him was true, no need to try and further convince him. "But we must find out who did before they have a chance to do so again." Standing, Liam procured a chair and brought it back to Killian's bedside. Turned so the back faced the bed, he straddled the seat and rested his arms along the back. "So… tell me everything you know about this rat."

Killian rolled his head in Emma's direction and gave her hand, which she'd placed within his own at some point, an encouraging squeeze. "You tell him, love."

She swallowed and brushed back the hair that had fallen over his forehead before nodding. Over the next hour or so, Swan laid out everything. The issues at the docks that first tipped Killian off, the fact someone warned Walsh to run, the close calls with the SPD that made it clear someone from the inside was working against them. She also explained her models and how she'd been trying to find connections within the organization, until they'd learned the Mills had discovered a rat of their own.

With Brennan now joining them via speaker phone, Killian and Emma both shared what they'd uncovered at the casino event, speculating that Gold may very well be behind the entire coup and their hope that identifying the last set of initials would be the key piece they needed to not only identify the Jones' rat, but prove Gold's treachery.

"I worried that something like this might happen," Brennan declared over the phone, sounding short of breath and weaker than Killian had ever heard him. "Malcolm was a cunning son of a bitch, but he and I respected one another. We had an understanding and rapport I never quite managed to gain with R.G."

Rasping coughs filled the line, and Killian exchanged a pained look with Liam, both of them knowing their father did not have long before he succumbed to the disease ravaging him.

Clearing his throat, Brennan caught his breath and continued, "I half expected the treaty to become nullified when Malcolm died and his son took over, but R.G. agreed to keep to its terms. I think it was because his own son was still young and reckless, having only just taken his place within the family business." Killian felt Emma stiffened beside him, the action prompting even Liam to take notice, and his brother's face darkened at the reminder of what she and Killian had told him of her past with Neal and R.G. "I imagine he already had his hands full, reining in and training up his rash progeny… not that I would know anything about that."

Everyone chuckled at Brennan's remark, but the movement of Killian's diaphragm twinged the wound at his side, causing him to hiss in pain. Both Emma and Liam placed a soothing hand upon him, their faces etched with concern which he attempted to alleviate with a forced, lop-sided smile.

"So, why now?" Liam asked, turning his attention back to the conversation. "Why is he willing to jeopardize the treaty now when both our enterprises have fared so well under its terms?"

It was Emma who supplied the answer; his smart, savvy, amazing Swan, who had the advantage of having an outside perspective which allowed her to recognize the obvious component they'd all overlooked.

"Because Brennan is dying." Her face scrunched, her lack of tact in blurting out the obvious, yet typically uncommented on fact, grimacing across her face in apology before she carried on. "You've kept his illness a secret because you know it makes you vulnerable, but somehow, Gold must have learned the truth. He's getting everything in place to take you down when you're at your weakest."

"Aye," Killian agreed. "And because his hubris knows no bounds, figured he could take out the rest of the competition while he's at it. He's already succeeded in doing so with Arthur."

"While I think it is clear Gold is behind it all," Liam interjected. "We still need proof. Either way we will have a war on our hands, but without proof of Gold's breach of contract and his involvement in planting informants within the other families, we won't have the Mills on our side, and we're going to need them."

"Yeah, and we still have to identify who our rat is and control the damage he or she has already done," Emma replied.

Killian's chest constricted, his breath catching at the casual way she said our rat, but Liam mistook his response for another bout of pain.

"I think we best let Killian rest. We can discuss this more once Emma has her files back and Robin or Jefferson gets her the rest of the information she needs. Until then, we keep everything locked down like we have since Flynn's body was pulled from that dumpster. I'm going to have Robin cross check the short list of suspects Emma made before the J.R. angle came up with anyone who might have had access to her vehicle the night it was towed from The Brig. Whoever took the burner phone is either the rat, or another step closer to finding him."

"And I'm going to have Whale get your more pain killers," Emma said, leaving the bed and making her way towards the door before Killian could protest.

"She's right, brother," Liam admonished, when he tried to call after her. "You need to rest. We need you in fighting shape for when this all goes to hell."

~/~

"You look like you could use this."

Liam set a steaming cup of coffee beside her and Emma wondered wearily what time it was, groaning after checking the clock on her laptop.

"Thanks," she said, pushing away from the makeshift desk Liam had helped her put together after he'd retrieved her things from Killian's yacht. Wrapping her hands around the warm mug, her eyes shifted to the slumbering form, nestled within cozy covers and pillows, yet still fitful as soft groans reverberated from his chest from time-to-time.

She hated seeing him like that. Hated the pain he was going through, hated the damage those men had inflicted upon him, hated knowing it was because of her that he was suffering. Hated that he had taken a bullet, two in fact, for her. Not that it should have surprised her… she would have done the same for him.

"I was wrong about you," Liam stated, moving the chair he'd been keeping vigil in and placing it closer to her so they could talk without disturbing Killian. "I want to apologize for my behaviour. For being an arse to you, for making things difficult, for-"

"Telling Killian to get rid of me because my brother, who isn't even my brother, is FBI, then thinking I had arranged to have your brother murdered, and pointing a gun at me?"

He actually flinched. Emma never would have thought him capable, but the man was actually contrite enough to flinch.

"Aye," he sighed. "All of that."

"You know," she said, taking a sip of the coffee and crinkling her nose. Unlike Killian, Liam had not been able to correctly deduce how she took it. "Nothing's changed in regards to David." She wasn't sure why she was reminding him of that fact. She supposed if they were going to finally have it out, then they should put all their cards on the table. "He's still FBI, he still thinks of me as family, he still has Graham keeping tabs on me, and he could still become a problem for you."

"True," he said with a nod. "But based on how well you dealt with him during that phone call, I think that threat has been neutralized."

"For now, maybe," she muttered, gulping down another swallow.

Liam tilted his head in that familiar Jones way, his brows drawing together. "For now? Are you insinuating he might become a problem in the future? I don't see why he would bother with us once you're free to carry on with your life as you did before. Out of our employ." His eyes followed the flicker of her own, lingering on Killian before returning with comprehension settling into his gaze. "I see," he drawled with a hint of amusement. "My little brother's infatuation isn't completely one-sided, is it?"

"Younger," she corrected with a smirk, bringing the mug up to her lips once more. After another fortifying swallow, she firmly stated, "But that's a conversation I intend to have with Killian before having it with you."

"Fair enough," he relented with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair and letting go a heavy sigh. "But you should know," he added in a soft but not less fervent tone. "That we take care of our own, and by extension," he paused and fixed his gaze upon her with a meaningful look that made her heart thump against her ribs, "those closest to them. So if you do stay, if you choose to become a part of this family, then we will ensure David and his family's safety. They'll have nothing to fear from us."

"But what about-"

"I'm sure we can all work together to find a way of keeping the FBI at bay." A devious smirk lifted at his lips, and he quipped, "We've ways of getting agents on our side, no matter how noble of character they may profess to be. Everyone has a price, whether it be monetary or otherwise, and I think you'll come to find I am a formidable negotiator."

"With formidable threats, you mean," she accused, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a suspicion brow at him. "I thought you said David and his family would have nothing to fear from you?"

"Aye," Liam drawled. "But he doesn't know that."

She tried to stifle the smile that twitched at her lips when he winked at her, so very much like his brother. While she hated the thought of roping David into complicity with the Jones family, she couldn't deny how entertaining it would be to watch these two older brothers go toe-to-toe with one another.

Fortunately, that confrontation could wait. They had others looming they needed to prepare for.

"Swan?" Killian croaked, his right arm shooting out and searching the space beside him as his eyes struggled to open. "Emma?"

"I'm here," she called out, lunging out of her chair and up onto the bed. Taking his hand, she brought it up to kiss the back of his knuckles, smiling down at him while his vision adjusted.

"You're still here," he exhaled in a relieved breath, a small wince cringing his features.

Emma brushed her fingers down the side of his face, then released the tension in his brow with a light touch as she whispered, "Where else would I be?"

"I thought…" His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he groaned as he shifted, pulling his hand from hers as he attempted to sit up. "...you'd left. I thought you'd taken the money and," He swiped his hand down his face and shook the remainder of whatever fog the drugs had left in his system out of his head. "It must have been a dream."

"Of course, it was a dream," Liam reassured him. "Emma hasn't met her end of the bargain yet. She's not going anywhere until after our rat is identified, per your agreement."

An acknowledging and slightly sad smile ghosted over Killian's lips. Emma wanted to tell him that even then, she wasn't planning on leaving. Not with a war looming. Not when she could stay and help him take down Gold.

Not when she could stay… would rather stay… with him.

The words stuck to her tongue long enough for Killian to brush the matter aside, clearly not wishing to discuss her leaving any longer, and his expression hardened as he asked, "Have we learned anything new? Any word from Rob or Jefferson?"

"Not about the mysterious J.R., no," Liam lamented with an irritated tone. It seemed both the brothers Jones abhorred waiting. "However, Robin did provide us with a list of those who may have had an opportunity to take the burner cell." Plucking a notepad from the table, he crossed the room and read off the names. "There's Billy, of course, but he's not deep enough in the organization to account for the other discrepancies. Felix was on security detail for the parking lot that night, which likely means Rufio was lingering about after getting the dealers set up with what they needed for the poker game. Arlo assisted Billy with getting the bug hitched up, and later went by his shop to discuss his assistance with the shipment of exotic cars we had coming in."

Flipping the page, he paused for a quick breath and Emma's phone rattled on the table with an incoming message notification. While Liam gave Killian the last few bits of info, Emma went to check her phone.

"Billy told Robin that Tink came by the next morning before he returned the bug, and that she had a man with her he didn't recognize. Robin is scrolling back through the footage from Billy's security cameras to see if he can identify the man without asking Tink. We don't want to tip either of them off in case they turn out to be the rat."

"They aren't."

Both men's heads snapped towards Emma, her phone clutched tightly in her hand as anger coursed through her.

"Swan? What is it? How do you know-"

"Jefferson came through," she said, cutting him off and taking a deep breath. Pushing back the urge to work out every little detail in her mind, she informed them, "He found him. J.R. The final man connected to the watch heist."

"And?" Liam demanded. "Who is he? Is he the rat we're looking for?"

"No. He's dead. Died three years ago in a drug deal gone wrong, but-"

"Bloody hell," Killian growled, cutting her off. "So we're no closer to identifying the rat?"

"Afraid not, brother," Liam sighed. "We both know dead men tell no tales."

"Actually…" Emma began, a gratified expression lighting her face. "In this case, they do. J.R.'s real name tells us exactly who the rat might be."

"It does? How?

"What was his name, Swan?" Killian asked, an edge of darkness wrapping around his words and shadowing his gaze. "I want his name."

"Jonathan," she told them. "J.R. stood for Jonathan... Rufio."

~/~

"No! No, please! I can… I can explain! Please! I-"

A swift punch to the gut silenced Rufio as he was brought on board the Jolly Roger. It had taken a little over a week to track him down. After the warehouse, he'd gone into hiding, certain it was only a matter of time before his cover was blown. At first, they'd been afraid he'd run back to Gold, assuming R.G. would offer him protection. He must have realized, however, that he was a loose end R.G. would want clipped, and that his unsanctioned hit on Emma would have potentially incurred Neal's wrath, leaving him with no allies.

"I hear you enjoy spilling your guts to my enemies." Killian approached Rufio, who was doubled over, still wheezing from the blow. Grabbing him by the hair, Killian yanked his head back, forcing the young man to stare into his face as he snarled, "Well, rest assured, Rufio. One way or another, you are going to be spilling them for me before we are through." Releasing him with a rough toss, he ordered, "Take him below and get ready to cast off."

Emma could hear Rufio's pleas and screams as they dragged him from the deck, down into the bowels of the ship. She couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit sorry for him, given what all they'd uncovered over the past week, but the man had made his choices and now he had to live with the consequences. Well... not for long.

There was also that small matter of him trying to kill her, so… No, actually. Emma didn't have much sympathy for him at all.

"Are you sure you wish to stay on board," Killian asked. "If not, now's your chance to leave."

Emma met his searching, uncertain gaze with one of determination. She still hadn't told him, hadn't had an opportunity to really discuss things while he was busy recovering and working to ensure their entire empire didn't come crashing down around them, but she would. As soon as they had the rest of the answers they needed, she would tell him.

"I'm staying."

Killian nodded, then turned his attention towards Liam who had called out to him before he followed the rest of the men below.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" she asked, still concerned he wasn't healed enough to be interrogating Rufio, even though he wouldn't be the one doling out the punishment.

"Aye, I'll be fine," he assured her, tucking an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, though several others began whipping about now that they were pulling away from the docks. "I'll come find you after."

"I'll be waiting," she told him, lifting herself up onto her toes and placing a kiss at the corner of his lips before murmuring, "In your cabin."

Time stretched on, so she occupied herself by going over everything again. All the secrets they'd revealed, all the mysteries they'd unravelled. They didn't yet know why Gold had planted Rufio within the Jones organization, but they had learned Rufio had a vendetta against the Joneses. The drug bust, during which his brother, Jonathan, had been killed, had been one of those misdirections Killian often used Smee for, tipping the police off about a rival's crime so they'd be preoccupied while they committed one of their own. Robin had missed the connection because Jonathan had died days later. It wasn't until they really looked into his death, and had Jefferson's insight to assist them, that they discovered he'd been a part of the gang dealing drugs on the boundary line between the Jones and Gold territories. Rufio had used his brother's death as one of the reasons he wanted to join the Jones family in the first place.

Having lost the only family he had left, he'd said he wanted to be a part of something.

Rufio had gotten his start working in the distilleries, packing and shipping the bootlegged liquor until he rose through those ranks and got promoted to the docks. He hadn't worked with Walsh long, but probably knew the man by reputation from his drug dealing brother, so when EWH hit the streets it seemed likely Rufio would have suspected it was Walsh's doing, and most likely was the one who warned him to run.

His work at the docks explained the inconsistencies with the cargo manifests, and his access to The Brig, as well as the property Robin maintained an office out of, allowed him to overhear or pick up on things he was then able to pass along to whoever he was working with on the outside. Who Emma suspected was none other that Owen Flynn.

It would explain why Flynn had frequented the bar on the nights he had, a place where they could converse or clandestinely exchange information. It also called into question what exactly happened the night Rufio had been tasked to watch over Flynn when he supposedly died from Killian's beatings.

All the pieces had come together by the time Emma found him, back where it all began. He'd been hiding out in Wizard of Oak. The abandoned furniture store Walsh had once used as a front business, dealing whatever concoction he'd been peddling before eventually being recruited years later by the Jones family. She supposed Rufio thought it a safe place to hide, knowing there was no tangible connection that could trace him to it. The only way he knew about it was because he'd accompanied Killian and Will the night they'd tracked Walsh there.

The same night Emma had.

They had the how's pretty much figured out, all they needed now was the why's.

"Well, you were right," Killian said as he entered the room. A few specks of blood and grime littered his shirt and suit jacket, which he gingerly shrugged off and tossed onto the bed on his way to the mini bar. "He was the one who told Walsh to run. He's also the one who convinced him to come back."

"Why?" Emma joined Killian at the table, eager to find out everything the Jones brothers had managed to beat out of their rat.

"It seems Gold wanted Walsh to turn himself in so he could make a deal and testify against me, but I discovered his revolting little side business before he could agree, though there was speculation he'd been unwilling to do so anyway. Rufio was then instructed to lure him back, with the hopes he'd be arrested. Then he would have had no other choice but to roll on us in order to save himself."

"Wait," Emma replied, needing a minute to process. "So, Gold tried to use Walsh to take you down?"

"Aye," he confirmed, knocking back the dram he'd poured for himself, then refilling his glass with the bottle he'd brought with him to the table.

"Okay, start from the beginning," Emma told him, tucking her legs beneath her in her chair and topping off her own drink. "Why did Gold send Rufio to spy on the family in the first place?"

Killian gave her a play-by-play of the interrogation, or rather, a slightly less bloodied version.

Knowing his brother had worked for Gold once before, Rufio had gone to him first after Jonathan's death. Having become suspicious as to whether the Jones - who had started to transition leadership from Brennan to Liam - were being truly honorable to the treaty, as it related to the agreement they had regarding the Storybrooke Harbour, Rufio had first been instructed to infiltrate the family and get assigned to the docks so he could keep tabs on things and report back. However, as soon as Rufio learned of Brennan's deteriorating illness, the Gold men saw an opportunity to expand their territory.

They began to look for ways to get Killian or Liam arrested, so that once Brennan died, the remaining son would be left to fend off the ambush on his own. The prospect of achieving such a coup must have made Gold greedy, because not long after the revelation of Brennan's impending death, he had Neal arrange for others to infiltrate both the Mills and Pendragon organizations, seeking out weaknesses he could exploit.

"After I shot Walsh, Rufio wanted to go to the police and do the very thing they had tried to get Walsh to do. Turn himself in as an accomplice, but then roll on me so I'd be arrested for the murder. R.G. told him that without a body there would be no point, so when the opportunity came to provide the police with one…"

"Flynn," Emma deduced, shaking her head and grinding her teeth.

"It was Rufio, not me, who killed him," Killian informed her. "I knew I hadn't done enough damage to cause his death, and I was right." Emma reached over and took Killian's hand. She knew it wasn't the man's death he'd been berating himself for, it was the lack of control and carelessness that might have led to it. "Rufio finished him off then called Felix in a panic, convinced him to help get rid of the body, then planted the matchbook in Flynn's pocket before they dumped him."

"I assume he's also the one who told Neal I was working for you," she said, taking them away from the subject of Flynn and what could have happened if Smee and others hadn't been so convincing with their false leads and planted evidence, turning the police investigation in another direction and all but clearing Killian of suspicion, given he had an ironclad alibi.

"He was," Killian confirmed. "Though, because Rufio did not know the true nature of our agreement he didn't realize how closely we'd been working together. Neal had no idea you were anything more than another asset until you showed up to the event with me."

Emma took a long pull from her glass and let the burn of the alcohol fill her belly with its smoldering heat, further stoking the fire that had been building within her. She'd been trying to hold it back, to suppress the thoughts gathering at the edges of her mind, to keep her darker impulses at bay even as her demons spurred her on from the recesses she usually confined them to. She couldn't deny them any longer though. The truth of the matter was… she needed them. Wanted them. Wouldn't be able to do what was required, what was necessary, what she desired without them.

To make Neal and R.G. pay for their audacity. To watch their empire burn until they were the ones left with nothing.

"What happens now?" she asked, keeping everything she was feeling reined in for the time being, knowing there would come a moment when she could use it to her - their - advantage.

Killian sighed. "Liam and I will set up a meeting with the Mills and share what we've uncovered. Father, Liam, and I are all in agreement that this means we'll be going to war with the Golds, and we're hoping to have Cora's allegiance and manpower to aid us in the fight."

He stood and went over to one of his night tables, opening the drawer and removing a thick manila envelope. "Don't worry, though," he said, his expression grave and guarded as he tossed the packet onto the table and resumed his seat. "I already collected your new identity, and Robin set you up an account. Most of the money has already been transferred into it. The rest is in there," he said, gesturing to the envelope casually as he took another drink, attempting to appear as though the topic of her leaving wasn't tearing him apart. His tight smile didn't meet his eyes, though he tried to make it convincing as he assured her, "Everything you need to make a fresh start."

Emma slid the envelope back towards him and stood. "Fresh starts are overrated." Skimming her fingers along the top of the table, she picked up his glass and brought it to her lips. After taking a sip, she licked an errant drop from the corner of her mouth and offered, "It seems to me, if there's going to be a war you're going to need all the help you can get, which includes having Arthur, and those loyal to him, among your list of allies. But Arthur can only help if he doesn't have to concern himself with Percy, who's gone to ground." Setting his glass back down, she carded her fingers through his hair, swirling them through the dark, silky strands. "I happen to know someone who's pretty good at finding people."

Killian's brows shot up his forehead and his lips parted in surprise, sticking in the corners in that way she loved. "You want to find Percy so Arthur is free to return and fight alongside us?"

Climbing onto his lap, Emma straddled Killian's hips, mindful of his still tender side and shoulder, and wound her arms around his neck. "In this family," she murmured, tilting her head so their foreheads were pressed together, his eyelids fluttering closed as he held his breath in anticipation of her words, "we look after our own, and those closest to them."

"You understand what it'll mean, don't you?" he asked, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily. "You, choosing to stay?" He opened his eyes and fixed her with his forget-me-not gaze. "It won't be for only this single job, or merely until our war with Gold is won." His hand tightened at her hip, his fingers digging into her skin. "It's for life, Swan."

"I know."

"And you're sure you're ready for that? Ready to cast off the black and white and fully embrace a life lived in the spectrums of grey?"

"I am," she assured him. Trailing her fingers down his neck she placed her hand over his heart and confessed, "You were right about me."

"In what way?" he asked, his lips ghosting over hers, barely able to restrain themselves.

"Turns out," she whispered huskily, flicking her eyes up at him through her lashes, "I do enjoy the company of demons."

"Well, then," Killian purred, snaking his hand up her back until it wrapped around the base of her neck. "Come kiss this handsome devil, won't you love?"

The End

Thank you all for following along! I have so appreciated all the reviews. NO PROMISES, but I HAVE started making notes for a sequel, so... we'll see. xoxo