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This chapter is where canon will start to change...

~cosette141

Everything was a blur.

Killian had tried his best to stay conscious through the boat ride, which he had been semi-successful at. It was when the boat stopped, Hades grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him out that things really became a blur.

Killian kept his eyes screwed shut, and had no idea how many times he slipped back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness as Hades dragged him.

At some point, a yell startled him awake—his own—and he blinked his eyes open to a cave that was even darker than Hades' throne room, only lit by the incandescent glow of the River from below.

He was sitting on a metal, circular platform. The platform itself was suspended in the middle of the cave over the water, and from the gaps in the metal Killian could see the waves of the River lapping a few yards below him.

Something suddenly jerked against him, and tightened.

Killian quickly found it hard to breathe, and something in his chest shifted, making him cough a cry. He sluggishly looked down to see his torso wrapped tightly in chains, pinning his arms to his sides.

When…?

The thought dissolved in an instant when a cranking sound echoed throughout the cave, and suddenly he was being lifted. The chains tightened around him, lifting him off the platform to suspend him over the center of it, where the floor had dropped away and the River waited unforgivingly below.

Killian couldn't help the scream as he was lifted, the shock of pain thrusting him abruptly back to lucidity.

At some point, the movement stopped, leaving Killian high above the metal floor. He managed to clench his teeth to stop screaming, but he couldn't help a broken grunt from choking out of his throat.

"Comfortable?"

Hades' voice flitted in from somewhere very far away.

"You might be wondering why I'm bothering with theatrics," Hades went on, and Killian cracked his good eye open, seeing the God walking the platform, circling him like a vulture. Killian's vision was doubling. Killian blinked to clear the blur in his vision. "See," Hades went on, "I could just push you into the River. It's easy enough."

Killian shut his eyes, trying to quell his fear.

"Well, firstly," said Hades, "where's the fun in that? And secondly, there are just some souls who need to suffer." He stopped in front of Killian, looking up at him with a sick glint in his eye. "I made this fun contraption for people like you, who have irritated me so much that they don't deserve a quick damnation. They—you, Captain—deserve to think about it for a while first. Really settle into the idea that your entire existence is about to be destroyed, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."

Killian was shaking harder.

He didn't know if it was from fear, pain or bloody hatred.

Hades resumed circling him. "Now," said the God, "I want you to think about why you're here. You tried to escape, you freed another prisoner, you refuse to do what I ask, and—" Killian could hear the smile in his voice—"Do you know the most important reason?"

Hades' face blurred into view. Killian drew in a breath that scraped his lungs, attempting to respond, his voice stunted, "I… couldn't…" His lungs were on fire. The words scraped his throat. He rasped out, "…begin to guess," clenching his teeth. He breathed hollowly, every restricted move of his chest pure, raw excruciation.

"Hope," came Hades' voice, making Killian crack open his eyes, only the one offering him any vision. And though blurry it was. "You and your colleagues brought contraband," Hades went on, "hope, into my world, and that is strictly forbidden." He stepped closer, and Killian glared at him, a glare that promised the worst death possible, making him think not for the first time he needed to make enemies who were not immortal, but the strength it took to even muster up the expression was waning terribly. "And despite some… creative beatings," Hades went on, raking his eyes over Killian's broken frame, "I still see hope in your eyes. Now, I would like that to be gone by the time you reach the water."

The chain vibrated suddenly with movement, lowering him inch by inch. The jarring motion tightened the chains around every open wound, every broken bone. Killian's eyes screwed shut.

Agony.

He was in agony.

It stole his breath.

What felt like a lifetime later, the movement stopped, and Killian was held suspended in the air, that much closer to eternal damnation. He was trembling violently, making the chain rattle. He cracked his eyes open, using every ounce of strength left not to bloody scream.

"You have interfered with my carefully cultivated existence." said Hades, stepping even closer to him, making Killian flinch on reflex. They were face-to-face now, and Hades grabbed the chain, pulling Killian even closer to him. "So," said Hades, his face inches from Killian's, "I am going to hurt you." A broken sound escaped Killian's throat. "And then," Hades went on, "I'm going to collect your friends—" Another sound broke from Killian's chest, something strangled and painful— "—and I am going to hurt them." Hades gave him a tiny, wicked grin. "So," he drawled, "there's going to be no one left to save you."

Absolute and total hopelessness made his eyes shut, thinking of Emma, thinking of her family, the people he's come to know as nearly his own, here because of him, to be hurt because of him—

He wanted to scream.

Gods, he wanted to bloody scream.

"Feel free to go mad," said Hades, stepping back. In a burst of flames, Hades disappeared, and Killian was left alone.

He felt the chains shift again, and he tried to brace himself for the pain.

He couldn't.

Killian shut his eyes, agony lacing through every nerve ending, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Perhaps, at least as a mindless lost soul, he would be free from the physical pain.

However pleasant the thought of freeing himself from this physical hell, it wasn't enough to make the River any more enticing.

He needed to help Emma.

He needed to save her, dammit.

What the bloody hell did she think she was doing coming down here?!

And yet, the echo of her voice telling him, I've come down to help you, flitted angelically through his mind, and he found himself desperately, brokenly wanting to be saved. He wanted the pain to end. He wanted to rest. Gods, he wanted to find a moment of peace.

But he was trapped, and she was in danger. Even if he were to free himself from the chain, his broken body was a prison all on its own.

He couldn't do a damn thing but spend his last moments with the cold realization that he would be the cause of Emma's demise.

"KILLIAN!"

A scream echoed in the room, almost making him flinch.

Emma.

That was Emma's voice.

Could it…?

His head pounded.

His vision blurred everything together.

Leave it to his mind to go truly mad in his final moments.

She sounded so real.

He wanted to lift his head, see the illusion for himself.

But he was so tired.

He thought he heard footsteps ringing off metal.

He blinked slow.

Suddenly the chain lowered again, igniting the pain all over again.

His eyes screwed shut, his teeth clenched, his voice lost somewhere in his throat. Suddenly afraid of how close he was to the water, he opened his eyes.

The pain sparked a little more clarity into him, enough to offer some more focus. Something was moving ahead of him. He blinked a few more times, making out the figure—someone—golden hair—

Emma.

His good eye widened a fraction.

Emma was halfway down a metal shaft, leading from the caves to the platform. "I'm coming for you!" she yelled breathlessly. "Hang on!"

Killian felt something surge deep within him.

She was real.

He knew she was.

When you love someone, you know.

It was Emma.

Emma.

Relief flooded him.

Panic consumed him an instant later.

And only increased when she slipped, nearly falling into the River.

But before he could attempt to find his voice, the chains were moving, dropping him even lower.

Agony.

Agony.

AGONY.

Somewhere beyond the pain, he suddenly felt hands touching him. More pain ignited as he was moved, the hands holding him too tightly, moving him too fast, touching open wounds.

But he knew those hands.

Emma.

He just managed a half-second moment of relief knowing she didn't fall victim to the River, only for her to begin to lay him down.

Groans were torn from his chest as he hit the platform, though he could tell Emma was trying to be gentle. She was trying to pull him away from the edge, and he lifted the leg that wasn't broken, hissing as it opened old wounds, and he weakly tried to help.

He blinked quickly, trying to clear the blur from his vision, seeing the vague form of her face, her shoulders leaning over him. He blinked more, her face clearing into a fuzzy look of panic.

She was so beautiful.

And he could feel her.

She was real.

It was really her.

Emma.

He tried to move—wanted to touch her, to make absolute sure—but the moment he shifted, a cry escaped his throat, sharp and raw like a wounded animal. He heard a sob, and then arms were around him, helping him up with tender and careful touches. He couldn't help biting another cry through clenched teeth as her fingers pressed into broken bones.

Trying again to clear his vision, now mostly upright, he could see her face. Her eyes tracked everywhere that he hurt, horror written in her eyes as she looked from the gash above his good eye to the mess that his left eye must be. Another sound like a sob escaped her, and she lifted a hand to cup his cheek, but didn't touch him, like she was terrified to break him.

"Killian…" she said in a broken voice. Her eyes fell to his shoulder, where he knew the three-headed monster had sunk its claws into. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her. Her eyes traced his injuries, her face growing more and more tortured the more she saw. "What's he done to you?" she whispered, her voice cracking, a tear falling down her cheek.

He tried to speak, tell her he was okay, however much a lie it was, but his voice was caught somewhere in his chest. Bloody hell, he wasn't. He coughed, his voice ragged, and he groaned when the cough ignited more pain. Her tender grip holding him upright tightened a little at the sound of his pain. He breathed shallowly, the chain still too tight for his chest to move properly. "Emma," he managed in a whisper, her name flicking life at the corners of his lips. "Emma." She was here. She was here. He could feel her. He could see those eyes again, that emerald warmth, hazy from unshed tears but no less her. A million words were conveyed through voicing her name alone, and he watched another tear fall down her cheek, seeing the sheer relief he felt reflected in her eyes.

He thought he'd never see her again.

A true smile graced his lips, worth it even when it tugged at more than one cut. She returned it, a smile filled with such joy, and it was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

As gently as sunlight touching the horizon, Emma pulled him to her, wrapping him in her arms. It hurt and stung sharply in more than one place, but he held in a hiss, not wanting to break her hold with fear she was hurting him. He felt her head nestle into his less-injured shoulder. He shut his eyes, even as the pain thrummed throughout his whole being, still making him tremble. The scent of her hair was like cool, blissful relief. And gods, he wanted to hold her properly, hold her so tightly and never, ever let go. Wanted it so badly it hurt worse than any of the pain. But right now, she was safe, and so was he. They were together. As selfish as it was, he was so bloody grateful that she was here. He'd been seconds away from eternal damnation. Killian felt tears sting, hating himself for being so damned happy she was here. He took in another breath, breathed her in, relished in the realness of her, the first gentle thing he's felt in so long.

"I missed you," she whispered over his shoulder. "Killian, I missed you so much."

His eyes burned. Something hot slipped down his cheek. "And I… you," he said thickly, even when the words scraped his lungs like knives. "You have no idea," he whispered brokenly. He didn't care about the pain anymore. Emma was here, he was in her arms and he's missed her so damn much.

After a moment, Emma pulled away, looking back at his face, eyes still shining with tears. "Let's get you out of these," she whispered, fingers finding the chains that still nearly suffocated him.

He watched her get to her knees, one hand steadying him, the other moving to the chains. He saw her eyes scan them. She looked at his face. "I can't use magic," she said quietly, apologetically. "Gold said Hades knows when people use magic here. I can't let him know you're safe…" The apology in her eyes deepened. "This might hurt," she said quietly.

Killian just shut his eyes, nodding. "'S'all right... love," he managed.

Another sound like a sob escaped her, making Killian open his eyes. "You don't know how much I've missed hearing you call me that," she whispered with another broken smile.

A strained smile flicked his lips again, only to fall when she tugged at the chain. A grunt escaped him as it pulled on broken ribs and the myriad of lashes on his back. Bless her, she didn't stop other than whispering apology after apology every time he made a noise. She kept pulling, tugging and jerking it loose until Killian was shaking harder, eyes screwed shut, drawing blood from his bitten tongue in a failing attempt to keep his pain silent.

But she must have found a way to release them, because little by little he was able to move his chest easier. He couldn't help his shaking—which had turned jerky and violent—and her one hand never left his less-hurt shoulder to keep him steady. But even as he was able to breathe easier, familiar black spots danced over his vision and he shut his eyes, willing himself not to pass out.

He could hear her voice from miles away, like she was speaking through water. Emma's fingers touching his right cheek pulled him back from the depths, a static that sizzled beneath his skin. His eyes opened—his left as much as it would allow—and he saw her worried gaze.

"Killian?" she asked, voice sharp with fear. He wondered how long he'd been dazed. "Killian, you're free. I got it off… are you okay?" When his voice was still lost somewhere in the depths, he felt her fingers cup the side of his face, a sense of urgency in them. "Killian? Can you hear me? Say something," she breathed, panic in her eyes.

"I…" He couldn't offer more than the one word, not even sure where he was going with it. But it seemed to be enough for her, to at least show her he was semi-lucid.

"That's it," she coaxed softly, and he could hear the relieved smile in her voice. He tried to meet her gaze, but his head was suddenly too heavy to lift. "Can you stand?" she asked hesitantly.

Forcing himself past the exhaustion, he lifted his head. The effort it took made him shake harder. Gods, he was so weak. "Yes," he rasped, though he truly didn't know how much of his weight he could hold.

"Don't worry," came her voice again, like water on dry land. "I've got you, Killian. We'll stand together." What in all the realms has he done to deserve her? He blinked a few times, trying to clear the haze in his already divided vision.

"Left leg's…" he whispered, voice waning strength. "Broken," he finished shortly.

He heard more than saw her look at his leg, for she sucked in a little gasp. The grip she still had on his less-wounded shoulder tightened. She moved then, shifting herself so that her eyes were directly in front of his, locking her eyes on his. He blinked again, trying to clear the blur. "The minute I get you out of here," said Emma, her voice wavering with the threat of more tears, "I'm going to heal you. I will take away all your pain. Okay? I promise," she whispered, her thumb brushing his cheek, one of the only places that wasn't on fire. "Just hang on a little while longer, okay?"

He felt tears sting his eyes. No one has ever spoken so gently to him in all his years. Overcome with a mix of emotions, Killian just shut his eyes and gave a short nod.

"Okay," said Emma, her voice making Killian force his eyes open again. She was on her knees, still holding him upright. "I'm going to help you up," she said slowly, her voice a little shaky.

He gave another short nod.

Emma got to her feet, one hand still holding him steady. Killian slowly bent his right knee, pressing his boot to the floor in preparation. Emma slipped her other arm under Killian's left and around his back. Even her feather light touch made the lash wounds sizzle, and Killian fought not to gasp.

"Ready?" asked Emma, though by the sound of her voice, she was nowhere near ready herself.

But Killian wanted to get out of here as soon as possible—for her sake as much as his—so he just gave another jerked nod and screwed his eyes shut.

Emma grabbed him around the back and started to lift him.

Bloody damn HELL—

A strangled cry escaped his clenched teeth, making Emma freeze and nearly drop him.

Pain.

Ripping across his back.

A million cuts reigniting, broken bones grinding white-hot against one another—

"Killian—?!"

"Don't—agh," his body shook with strain, pain wracking in spasms. Another broken sound tore from his throat. He shook harder. "Don't—stop," he whispered brokenly.

Blessedly, she listened after another half-second's hesitance, but she shifted her grip, no longer touching his back and she held him even gentler. Waves of radiating agony still rode him with every shift of his body, making his jaw snap shut to keep himself quiet. He couldn't help the shaking, and it made it nearly impossible to get his good leg to cooperate. But somehow, he got it under him, and was holding at least some of his own weight.

The moment he was upright, Emma was back in front of him, holding his swaying form with a grip under his shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

Her voice was no more than a whisper. He wrenched open his eyes to see her, a new tear falling down her face.

He sluggishly realized one was falling down his own.

"Yes," he answered breathlessly, though they both knew he was the furthest thing from okay.

"How do you want me to hold you?" she asked him, voice hitching when she looked from injury to injury and asked, "Where…?"

Killian was afraid to admit that there was nowhere that wouldn't cause agony with pressure. It was already agony without pressure. But when he was quiet a moment too long, Emma said, "Why don't you lean on me?" Before he could reply, she took his good arm, pulling it gently and slowly around her shoulders. He winced a little.

Tentatively, Emma slipped her free arm around his back, much closer to his waist. He felt Emma tentatively press her hand to it, and though he felt the sting of the lacerations, it wasn't the fire that it had been a few minutes ago.

"Okay?" asked Emma shakily.

He nodded tiredly.

"Ready?"

No. "Aye."

She took a tentative step forward, and her arm tightened a bit on him. His weight felt much heavier than normal, making his good leg falter a little. When it did, Emma had to grab him quick to keep him from falling. He groaned, but managed to find his footing again and stay upright.

"Shit," he heard her whisper.

His good eye opened. "What's… wrong?" he huffed out, phantom heart picking up.

She was looking at the metal bridge she'd crossed to get to him. "How are we going to do this?" she whispered.

Killian swallowed. It was only a few inches wide. He couldn't even walk—let alone stand—on the platform without assistance. And there was no way Emma could support him on that. They'd both end up in the River.

"I'm going to have to use magic," she said quietly. "Hades might know I'm here…"

And there's no telling what he'd do if he found her.

"No," he said, making her head turn toward him.

"But, Killian, you can't—"

"Aye," he rasped gravelly, "No magic, Swan. Leave me." The words tore out of his chest, burning off his tongue, panic bubbling in his chest at the notion. But if there was anything worse than the thought of spending eternity here without her, it was having Hades find and hurt her. The thought alone sent an icy chill of petrifying fear down his spine.

Emma looked at him incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about, Killian?! I'm not leaving you here!" Her grip tightened on him.

"I am going to hurt you. Then, I am going to collect your friends, and I am going to hurt them."

"Emma," he said, lifting his head to face her, seeing the wild look in her eyes. Though, it faltered when she saw his expression. He knew she'd never seen him look so openly scared before.

He'd never been this scared before.

"Even if your savior finds you, she will not be saving you. She'll need her own savior by the time I'm done with her."

"Hades… will hurt you," he whispered, the words difficult and exhausting to speak but still strong and desperate.

Emma's face hardened. "I've already met Hades, and he hurt you." Her voice broke a little, before setting into the familiar defiance of her armor. "If we run into him, it's that bastard who should be afraid of me."

He only wished either of them were as confident as the words themselves.

"Em—"

"I'm not leaving you, Killian," she said firmly, passion like a fire in her, matching the desperation in his. "I won't lose you again," she said in a whisper, pain bright in her eyes. "I'll jump into that River myself before I walk away from you. I am bringing you home, Killian."

That fiery look in her eyes, alive with fear and urgency and absolute love made Killian shut his, feeling them burn and again hate himself for how bloody happy he was that she was here.

"I'll just poof us back to the boat and we'll be gone before Hades knows a thing," said Emma with confidence that he unfortunately knew was forced.

Killian felt discomfort settle in his gut. But he nodded anyway.

Emma closed her eyes, and the familiar tug of magic enveloped them.

The smoke cleared and—

They appeared on the cave floor, on the other side of the metal bridge, not twenty feet from where they'd been standing.

"This isn't what I…" began Emma, but she suddenly swayed.

"Emma?!" exclaimed Killian, fear sharp in his chest.

Her grip on him tightened to keep her own balance, and he couldn't help a cry when she pulled on his lash wounds.

Her eyes shot open. "Killian—! I'm sorry—are you okay?" He nodded shortly as she steadied him, thankfully keeping him on his feet. "I just… this isn't what I tried to do. We should have appeared back at the boat," she said, her voice gaining a touch of panic. "And…" She shut her eyes, pressing a hand to her temple.

"Emma?!" he whispered breathlessly.

Her eyes opened. "It drained a lot out of me, that's all," she said shakily. "Something must be wrong with my magic." A little more fear in her eyes, she adjusted her grip on him, saying breathlessly, "We need to get out of here now before Hades—"

"—shows up?"

In a burst of flames, Hades was standing before them, a smile on his face.