It's been a hot minute, my friends! School plus working 65 hours a week = my ass being well and truly kicked lol. A million thank yous to those who have stuck with me on this fic! A handful more chapters to come after this!
And a million more thank yous to Irene and Tori for being my soundboards and helping to feed my muse!
All reviews are received with heartfelt appreciation!
This chapter has a TW for violence.
Your Case or Mine
Chapter 20
It was just after 8pm when the trio of computers in the station lit up like Christmas trees and began beeping insistently. Belle and her assistant technician looked at one another and held their breaths as they watched the computers begin to triangulate a location.
"Emma's phone was switched on!"
Belle yelled, alerting Killian and co. to the unfolding development. Within seconds, they were all crowded around the computers in tense silence, waiting for the signals to coordinate and spit out Emma's whereabouts.
It had been over 24 hours since she'd gone missing, and the urgency to find her had only grown every hour. Killian was essentially in a permanent state of pacing by that point, and the others had long since stopped trying to convince him to sit down as they diligently continued to work every angle of the case and follow every lead they could.
A pair of officers had been sent to talk to Gold again, but had been unable to pin down his whereabouts thus far. Another pair had been tasked with digging into every angle of Neal Cassidy's life, in an effort to track any locations where he could potentially be holding Emma, and a third pair were following the leads they generated and searching all of those locations. It was a round-the-clock job, but not one person gave a second thought to clocking off and going home.
Emma was family, and she was out there somewhere, in god-only-knew what kind of state, in the hands of a serial killer. She needed every single one of them to do their very best to find her. She'd do the same for them, and not a single one of them doubted that for a second.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the computers showed a large circle over Willowdale State Forest, and Belle did her best, but pinpointing exact coordinates in such a remote area was almost impossible.
"Can't we narrow down the area anymore than that?"
Killian asked, his heart sinking. Belle tapped away, trying various ways to do so, but nothing worked.
"The signal's bouncing off the closest cells, and they're well outside the forest. I don't know how much more I'm gonna be able to narrow this down."
Graham turned to the team, "We'll get the helicopters out to cover the entire forest and get the infra-red tracking on. Captain, is the air team on standby? We need to mobilize some teams to get out there on the ground, too."
David nodded.
"Yeah, the air team's been on standby since we called it in last night. They can guide the ground teams. No one should be in the forest after sunset either, unless they've got permits for camping overnight. There shouldn't be many of those though, so we can check out any and all activity."
Killian was relieved that Graham hadn't automatically handed the reins back over to him, because the longer Emma was missing, the more he struggled to focus. The last thing he needed was to make a mistake that could cost Emma her life because he couldn't think clearly. He'd never live with himself.
Willowdale State Forest was a half hour drive from Boston, so by the time the ground teams had mobilized and arrived on scene, the air team would have been able to do at least one sweep of the area that the GPS tracker had triangulated.
As everyone prepared, David directed them into groups of fours and fives, with at least one detective or FBI agent per group. Despite being from different divisions, and federal involvement often causing a rift in how smoothly operations like this ran, both teams worked smoothly as one. David could only hope that the cohesion of their teams would lead to a quick rescue once they'd pinned down Emma's location in the forest.
"Killian, you ride with me."
David said firmly as they headed out to the parking lot. He wanted to have a quiet conversation with Killian, and the half hour drive to Willowdale would provide privacy for that.
Killian eyed him warily, but nodded and followed him to the car. There was a tense silence for the first few minutes of the ride, before David finally sighed.
"I know this is 'your' case now, and you're the Supervisory Special Agent...but when we get there, I think it'll be best to let Agent Humbert-"
"You don't have to tell me how to do my job, Captain."
Killian cut him off, his jaw ticking with irritation. David held up a hand in supplication.
"I'm not, I assure you. But your investment in this...it's more than professional now, Jones. And I don't just say that because of what I know has been going on between you and Emma. You care about her; it's clear as day, with the way you've been acting since she went missing."
"You care about her, too. You don't see me saying you're incapable of doing your job because of it."
David shook his head, sighing again, and sent a disapproving glance Killian's way before returning his eyes to the road. He was being defensive, and that only further confirmed what David had suspected.
"I am not saying you're incapable of doing your job. But being...involved...that's naturally going to
cloud your judgement in a situation like this. That's why I'm not asking Agent Humbert to let me lead this either."
Killian swallowed, clenching his jaw again but remaining silent, which prompted David to continue.
"Being undercover and acting as her partner in the field would potentially be compromising enough, and I'd keep a tight leash on Will for that reason too, if he was in a leadership position for such a critical and sensitive matter. We can't be objective the way we need to be when we care about someone beyond the limit of professionalism. You two...sleeping together...it complicates your working relationship-"
David was choosing his words carefully, but Killian couldn't help the flash of indignation that rushed through him as he snapped his gaze to the other man and cut him off.
"And you acting like her bloody father complicates your working relationship, too!"
Killian seethed, his tone clipped and just that little bit more British. David rolled his shoulders back, keeping his eyes on the road and letting the tension in the car simmer for a moment in an attempt to avoid stoking the flames further and pushing the discussion into an argument.
"I fully acknowledge that I'm protective of Emma, as I am of all my team," he could feel Killian's bemused and unconvinced look without even turning to face him, and rolled his eyes, "Alright, I perhaps treat her more like family than I do with most of my people, I'll admit that. But being protective like that isn't going to make me irrational in the field, or have me rushing headfirst into a situation that could compromise her safety. You're intimate with her in a way that will naturally cloud your professional actions."
"I would never compromise her safety!" Killian shot back, indignant, his shoulders set in defiance, "And just because I'm in love with her doesn't mean I'll forget how to do the job I've been trained to do!"
A sudden heavy, charged silence descended as Killian's admission sat between them. He hadn't meant to say that much. He hadn't intended to admit something so delicate and meaningful to David before he'd even managed to tell Emma. David seemed lost for words, and Killian quickly turned to stare out of the window, the tips of his ears burning as he wondered how the hell he could take back that kind of accidental admission.
Finally, David spoke, his voice now much softer than earlier. "Does she know?"
Killian sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair as his shoulders slumped. He shook his head.
"I only realized it myself a few days ago. I guess maybe I knew deep down, that it was more than just a physical thing, pretty soon after we moved into the house. I liked her, but somewhere along the way, it became something more to me. I just...I don't know if she feels the same, or if knowing how I feel about her would make her immediately run in the opposite direction."
He glanced at David then, feeling a little awkward talking to the man about how deep his feelings for Emma ran, when admittedly, he was like a father figure to her. But now that his admission was out in the open, it felt like somewhat of a relief, too. He'd said it out loud and the world hadn't imploded. Yet.
David cleared his throat, not sure he was entirely comfortable talking about all of this, but knowing that he'd essentially brought it on himself when he'd cornered Killian for a discussion about his feelings clouding his professional judgment. He just...hadn't fully anticipated how deeply those feelings ran.
"Commitment and dealing with feelings aren't things that Emma's ever been particularly comfortable with. As I'm sure you've worked out by now. Her past...a lot of that has stuck her with her-"
"I know about her past. I know why she is the way she is about relationships and commitment...and I haven't told her I'm...I haven't told her because of that. I didn't want her to feel trapped, when she had to live in that house with me, if I admitted how I felt. It wouldn't have been fair to force her to deal with that when she didn't have a choice to walk away. I was...I was going to wait until the case was over, until she had the choice to hear me out or walk away. I never wanted to force anything on her. She made it abundantly clear in the beginning that what was between us was purely physical. I don't know if she still feels that way, but it wasn't a discussion to have when we still had to live together and see the case through."
David tried to digest and process everything Killian had said. He hadn't realized just how much had been going on between them on the other side of the cameras. All he'd known about was the physical side (which he really hadn't wanted to know about, in all fairness). But if Emma had told him all about her past, then clearly the relationship had blossomed into something much more real out of shot of the cameras. She didn't talk about that easily.
And clearly Killian respected her, in a way that David most certainly approved of. He'd held back from forcing his feelings on her in a situation he knew she couldn't walk away from. That garnered him at least a few brownie points in David's book.
"You'll get to have that discussion with her. We'll get her back and she'll be alright," David said quietly, with a conviction that he knew both of them needed to hear, "But you need to step back once we get there, and don't go rushing headfirst into anything. This Cassidy guy, he's Robert Gold's son. If anyone can weasel their way out of a conviction on a technicality, like any missteps in how we handle this situation and his arrest, it'll be him. We have to do this by the book."
Killian sighed, nodding reluctantly.
"I know, I know. I may want to beat the living shit out of him for what he's put her through, but I also want to see him locked up for the rest of his miserable life, where he can't hurt anyone else. I want that for Emma, for her peace of mind, and for his other victims. They deserve that justice, and I won't compromise their chance of getting it."
When they finally arrived at Willowdale State Forest, the park rangers were there, fully briefed by Graham who had arrived shortly before them, and the air teams had already done a full sweep. There were only four cabins located in the forest, usually used by park rangers and their families, but currently just two were registered as being in use. Teams were dispatched to all cabins, and also to the single group of campers who held a permit for that evening.
Killian's heart was pounding, and as he carried out his routine gun and bulletproof vest checks, Will approached him.
"She's a survivor. I know she's gonna be alright. I mean, bloody hell, she some'ow managed to get her phone and text you...she's probably a serial killer's worst nightmare. Resourceful and feisty as fuck."
Will gave him a weak smile, and Killian appreciated the man's attempt at being reassuring. He was Emma's partner and best friend, so clearly he was worried sick about her too, but he was going out of his way to reassure someone else. That made Killian suspect that Will had a pretty good idea about the depth of his feelings for Emma...and maybe vice versa? Now wasn't the time to be thinking about that, but it was a fleeting thought that had him attempting a grateful smile in return, with a quiet and meaningful, "thank you, Scarlet."
With all checks complete, Killian took a deep breath and joined a team ready to head into the forest...hopeful that soon, he'd have Emma back safe in his arms, with the nightmare of the last 24 hours behind them.
CS
She wasn't sure how long she'd been lying there, not moving a muscle, listening to every creak and groan from the house upstairs. It felt like an eternity. Finally, the footsteps and low murmurs of Neal's voice stopped, and Emma continued to listen to the deafening silence as it descended.
Still, she waited, wrists and back aching from the position she lay in. Over the endless minutes that had surely turned to hours since Neal had locked her back in the musty basement prison, she'd alternated between formulating her escape plan and distracting herself from the entire situation by thinking of Killian. Somehow, thinking of him and trying to imagine that she wasn't shivering, lying on a dirty, old cot in a basement, and was instead lying next to him in 'their' bed, in 'their' home, made her body relax marginally. At least until the ache in her shoulders and the sharp pain in her wrists reminded her where she really was.
Finally, she shifted, wincing as every muscle in her body protested, and shuffled clumsily to sit on the edge of the bare cot. She froze, holding her breath and straining to listen through the silence for any sounds from upstairs, as the springs of the old cot creaked, the sudden noise startling her and making her heart lurch with fear.
Nothing.
Gingerly, Emma straightened her back, stretching out the aching muscles, and tried to ease the searing pain in her bound wrists by pressing them more tightly together, relieving some pressure from the zip ties. She was thanking her lucky stars for her choice of footwear, because had she been wearing boots, she would've been stuck when it came to her plan for freeing herself. She'd never thought she'd need the particular skill she was about to use when she'd learned it, but now she was more than a little grateful for it...
Ignoring the sharp protests from her lower back, Emma bent forward and quickly untied her sneakers. Straightening up again, she carefully maneuvered the lace of one sneaker in between her wrists with her fingers and, once she'd fed enough through the small space, leaned forward again to take the lace between her teeth. Pulling it through enough that she could grab hold of it again, she shifted to grab the lace of her other sneaker and quickly fumbled to tie the laces together in tight knots, blinking back tears and gritting her teeth through the white-hot pain caused by moving her hands so much.
With that done, Emma once again straightened up, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, in aneffort to remain silent, as the zip ties bit into the angry welts on her wrists once more. With tears blurring her vision, she lifted her feet and began a cycling motion, causing the laces to exert friction on the zip tie and, within a few moments, the plastic restricting her wrists snapped.
Emma's shoulders sagged with relief, hot tears slipping down her cheeks as she gave herself a moment for the searing pain to abate. But she didn't want to waste time, eager to get the hell out of there as soon as possible, so she fumbled to unknot her laces with trembling fingers and once she'd righted herself, she quickly pulled her phone out of her bra. She intended to both find out what time it was, and fire off a text to Killian to reassure him (and, by default, the others) that she was still fighting her way out of there. She sincerely hoped they were on their way to her though, seeing as her GPS location had to have been on for awhile now.
Noting the 7% battery life remaining, she quickly typed out a text with as much information as she could, without using too much battery. She needed to conserve it if she was going to go running into whatever forest the cabin was in the middle of.
"Trying to escape again. If he catches me this time, I'm fucked, but I need to get my kid out of here. Don't know where I am. Cabin of some sort. I'm getting us out,"
She paused, her fingers hovering over the keys as she debated writing something that, frankly, terrified her to even type out. But if she didn't make it out of this, and if Neal got what he wanted and her heart ended up in that jar he had upstairs...she wanted Killian to know what was in her heart while it was still in her chest. Maybe he already knew. But once those words were out there...and if she did get out of this, she'd have to face him again after she'd told him something so meaningful and terrifying through a text...
Swallowing thickly, her heart racing, she continued the text.
"I need you, Killian. Please, just find me."
She closed her eyes for a moment as she hit send. She didn't want to give him those words through a text. He deserved better, and she didn't want to believe, after she'd made it through all of this, that she'd only said it out of fear. They both deserved more than that.
Shaking her head, she put the phone back into its hiding place, and turned her attention to the task at hand, tiptoeing over to the stairs and cautiously making her way up as silently as possible.
She tested each one with slight pressure first, managing to avoid the creakiest steps and holding her breath as she gripped the door handle. She hadn't heard the lock turn earlier, when Neal had slammed it behind him, and all she could do was hope that when she turned the handle...
Emma almost sobbed with relief as the door swung open into the dark kitchen. She took another moment to listen into the silence, for any sign that Neal might still be awake, before tentatively stepping forward and glancing around the room. She was grateful that at least she knew the basic layout of the cabin, thanks to her earlier failed escape attempt, so she avoided bumping into anything in the pitch darkness as she tiptoed her way toward the front hallway.
Her plan was to was to get Henry and get the hell out of there. Over the time she'd spent lying on the cot and running through every possible way to carry out the plan in her head, she'd settled on securing an escape route before grabbing Henry. That way, she wouldn't have to fumble with locks in a panic after the riskiest part of the plan - getting upstairs and waking Henry.
She knew she probably wouldn't have a hard time convincing the kid to go with her, after what had happened earlier, but they had to get back down the stairs, passing the room where she assumed Neal was sleeping. Her stomach knotted uncomfortably at the thought of it.
Unable to unlock the front door, and with no keys in sight - she wouldn't be surprised if Neal had kept them with him - she tried each of the windows, praying silently that one of them would budge. They were all locked.
But as she tried the last one, Emma's heart jumped...there, sitting in the lock of the window, was a key. Allowing herself a moment for relief to wash over her, she grabbed the key with a shaking hand, and quickly unlocked the window next to the front door. It opened onto the front deck, which she knew would be easiest to get out onto, without a drop that would potentially be daunting for the 10 year old she'd have in tow.
A significant blanket of snow had fallen in the last few hours, and that could make their escape that much more risky. Plus, she wasn't exactly dressed for the biting cold weather. But staying in the same house as a homicidal psycho was more risky, so there was that. Shoving the small key into her back pocket, she took a deep breath and turned to make her way up the stairs...and stopped dead.
Henry was sat at the top of the stairs, watching her with wide eyes. She swallowed down the fear that had initially risen up in her throat when she'd caught sight of a figure in the dark and motioned frantically for him to come downstairs, but to stay silent.
Henry looked over his shoulder, clearly wary, but then quickly and silently slipped downstairs. He immediately wrapped his arms around Emma's waist and she fought back more tears as she hugged him back, before dropping down to be eye-level with him.
"Henry, listen to me. We have to get outta here. But you need to be as quiet as a mouse, okay?" She whispered, and when he nodded she continued, "Get your coat and shoes on, as quick as you can."
Henry nodded again, pulling on his shoes from next to the door and his jacket and scarf that Emma grabbed for him off the hook. She kept casting cursory glances up the stairs, terrified that Neal would appear before they had a chance to get out. She didn't want to scare Henry too much, but keeping him as quiet as possible and hurrying him out of the house would be the only way they'd stand a chance at escaping.
Opening the window, Emma silently motioned for Henry to climb out onto the deck and he did so without pause. She followed him, wincing at the creak of the wooden frame when she leaned her weight onto it and the icy cold air that burned her skin as she climbed outside. But she made it out, closing the window again as cautiously as she could. When she turned back to Henry, he was staring at her hands, and gently took one of them in his own, inspecting the bloodied blisters on her wrists.
"Did...did dad do that to you?"
He asked in a loud whisper, sounding distraught. Emma swallowed thickly, pulling her hand as gently as she could out of his.
"I'll be okay, kid," she finally whispered back, avoiding answering his question, "But we have to get going, alright?"
"You don't have a jacket. You're gonna be so cold...my mom said you can get sick from going out in the cold without your jacket."
"I don't have one, but I'll warm up when we're running. We gotta run as fast as we can. You ready?"
Henry paused once more, before nodding firmly, determination on his little face that made Emma smile despite their situation. With that, she pointed out the direction they were going to run - not that she had any clue where they were heading, but if they could get out of eyeshot of the cabin, then she felt like they'd somehow be safer. And perhaps, if they were lucky, they'd run into the search party she could only hope were out looking for them by now. She could hear what sounded like a helicopter somewhere nearby, and she could only hope it was looking for her.
But they stepped off the deck, the window they'd just climbed through flew open.
"EMMA! What the fuck are you doing?! Get back here, NOW, you stupid bitch! Are you trying to kill the both of you?!"
Emma froze in fear, Henry's hand tight in hers. The young boy looked up at her, and she glanced over her shoulder at Neal, then back at her son.
"Run, Henry."
She whispered, and he nodded, taking off in the direction she'd pointed out before Neal had appeared. She ran too, glancing back briefly to see that her homicidal ex had disappeared from the window...probably to get the keys for the front door, she assumed. She wasn't waiting around to find out though, racing to catch up with Henry, pure adrenaline driving her on.
A gunshot rang out just as the two made it to the tree-line of the forest, and Emma gasped, turning to see Neal stood on the front porch, aiming a rifle at them. Horror and disbelief coursed through her, and she pulled Henry behind her in an instinct to protect him at all costs. He began to whimper, clearly terrified, and when Neal aimed again, Emma repeated her earlier order.
"Run. Run, kid, okay? I'll protect you."
They took off again, and Neal yelled out her name right before another gunshot rang out. It took a few seconds for Emma to realize that she'd been hit, and she cried out as the force of it knocked her to the ground, her blood staining the snow on the ground. Henry screamed, rushing to her side.
"I-It's alright..." she tried to reassure him, weakly, the gunshot to her shoulder making her dizzy with pain. Glancing toward the cabin, she saw Neal striding determinedly across the snow-covered grass towards the forest that they'd barely managed to run into.
"Henry, please...run. I'll be okay, just run..."
Emma whimpered, clutching her left shoulder and trying to stumble to her feet again, but the dizziness causing her to hit her knees. Neal was too close now, and Henry turned to glare at him as he strode over to loom over them.
"Y-you shot my mom!"
Henry cried angrily, wrapping his arms around his injured mother protectively.
"Get back into the house, son," Neal said calmly, glaring coldly at Emma, and when he didn't budge, Neal levelled a chilling stare on the boy, "Get in the house, or I'll shoot her again."
Emma closed her eyes, feeling bile rise up her throat, terrified that this was it. And that her son would witness Neal's homicidal rage.
"Do as he says, Henry," Emma whispered brokenly, and when he made a noise of disagreement, she squeezed his arm, encouraging him to look at her, "I'll be okay. But I need you to go back inside. Please."
It killed her to see the pain and fear in her son's eyes but he finally nodded and reluctantly walked back toward the house. After looking back at them from the doorway, wary and distrustful of leaving his mother out there hurt and at the mercy of his father, he went inside.
Neal turned back to glare at Emma once again.
"Never learn your lesson, do you, Ems?" He used the tip of the rifle to nudge her bleeding shoulder and she cried out, cowering away, "I warned you. And yet again, you decided to be a rebellious little bitch and ignore my orders. Do you like me hurting you? Is that what you're into now?"
He jabbed her again and she fell back into the snow with a sob, raising her eyes defiantly to him, despite the tears of pain blurring her vision and stinging with the cold.
"You're a sick bastard. And I don't give a fuck what you do to me anymore, but I'll do whatever it takes to protect my kid from you."
He laughed darkly; a cold, chilling sound that made Emma's stomach turn.
"Like you protected him for the last 10 years? Suddenly you wanna be a mother now? Too little, too late, Ems."
"You think you're gonna get away with this?! Kidnapping and attempted murder, on top of murdering all those other women...you're gonna go down for life-"
She snapped at him, her voice hoarse and her body feeling weaker by the second. But she wasn't about to go down without a fight. She had someone to fight for now...maybe more than one, if she really stopped to think about it.
Neal chuckled, shaking his head and reaching out to grab a handful of Emma's hair like he had done earlier to control her, yanking her to her feet even as she wobbled and struggled against him.
"My father will see to it that I can disappear. And I'll take our son with me. You can go to your grave knowing that, sweetheart."
With her energy fast running out, he tossed her over his shoulder like a rag doll, unfazed by her efforts to kick out against him, and carried her back toward the house. Before he reached the porch steps, however, the sound of sirens blaring nearby had a new surge of adrenaline coursing through Emma and Neal dropped her onto the porch, spinning around to see the blue and red lights flashing through the trees.
"What the fuck-"
"I'm still as 'annoyingly resourceful' as I always was, Neal."
Emma said, hoarse but smug, and he turned to face her again, fury darkening his expression as he lunged for her, shoving her against the wall of the cabin even as the police cars screeched to a halt on the snow-blanketed grass.
"I will take you out with me, Emma-"
His dark warning, punctuated by the rifle pressing sharply against her ribs as he leaned into her personal space, was cut off by his name being called through a megaphone. "Neal Cassidy. It's over. Drop the weapon and let her go."
Neal paused, jaw clenching as he kept his eyes on Emma for a moment, and she held her breath. She recognized Graham's voice on the megaphone, but all she wanted to do was scan the crowd of cops and find Killian's reassuring gaze telling her all of this was going to be okay. She knew he was there, even without looking.
"My kid is in the house-"
Emma yelled, and Neal's hand shot out to close around her throat, pinning her roughly against the cabin. She gasped for air, clawing at his hand despite the pain shooting through her shoulder.
"Neal Cassidy," Graham's voice on the megaphone repeated, "Drop the weapon, and let both of the hostages go."
Neal yanked Emma in front of him then, in one quick movement that had her stumbling and disoriented for a few seconds. The rifle was pressed to her back now, and she swallowed thickly, tendrils of fear curling around her and making her stomach turn yet again.
"I don't fucking think so," Neal snarled.
CS
The search seemed to go on far too long for Killian's liking, considering there were only a handful of cabins in the forest. The two occupied ones were checked out, and the unregistered one was simply being used by a small group of homeless kids trying to keep out of the cold. The other cabins had appeared empty on the first sweep by the helicopter, so Graham had ordered another sweep, while the ground teams split up to do a closer inspection of each of them.
He'd been reassured by Emma's latest text, but at the same time it filled him with dread. She was trying to escape, and her captor would have no qualms about killing her if she was caught doing so. He last words ("I need you, Killian,") ricocheted around his chest and echoed in his head. She needed him. And he felt utterly helpless to be there for her.
Halfway to one cabin, Will came over the radio to alert them of gunshots heard nearby. Killian and David exchanged a look, both of their hearts sinking as David immediately swung the car around and put his foot on the gas.
The churning in his stomach was now a raging tsunami, and Killian was praying to a god he'd long-since given up on to keep Emma and her son safe, and that they weren't too late.
Guilt wracked him. He'd left the house yesterday to clear his head, caught up in his own grief at finding out the truth about Liam and Milah's deaths. And he'd left Emma vulnerable. He was her partner, and as much as she would protest that she could take care of herself (something he knew she was more than capable of), he still couldn't shake the heavy sense of guilt sitting like a suffocating weight on his shoulders.
If he hadn't left her there, alone, more vulnerable than any of them had realized, then she wouldn't have been taken. She'd be safe, and they'd have found out who they were up against without Emma's life being in danger. They could've had the upper hand. They could've lured Neal out without him being able to lay a finger on Emma.
As their car screeched to a halt, the guns and lights of their colleagues already aimed at the cabin, Killian jumped out, his throat tightening when he caught sight of her. Neal had her positioned in front of him, a barrier between himself and the dozen Glocks currently aimed at him.
Killian wanted nothing more than to run blindly towards her, to call her name and make sure she knew he was there. But Graham was on the megaphone, shouting orders to Neal, and all he could do was draw his gun with shaking hands, and join the rest of his and David's teams.
She looked exhausted, and she was hurt, he could tell that much from the way she was holding herself, and the way she winced when Neal manhandled her.
"I will fucking shoot her if you don't back up!" Neal barked, "I have a gun to her back. One wrong move from any of you, and she's dead."
Killian swallowed thickly, clenching his jaw and keeping his eyes on Emma, as he tried to silently reassure her that he was there, and that he would have his arms around her again as soon as he physically could. He glanced over at Graham then, who was motioning orders for some of the team to surround to cabin, before he raised the microphone again.
"We have you surrounded, Mr. Cassidy. I will ask you again; let them both go."
His voice was calm and controlled. Killian knew if he was behind that megaphone, he'd be much less professional.
"She abandoned him. She had my kid, and she threw him away like trash. She deserves this."
He must have applied pressure to wherever she was injured, because Emma screamed in pain, her knees buckling, and Killian shakily cursed under his breath. The sound of her agonized cry turned his stomach and a rush of anger accompanied the fear coursing through him, but Neal continued.
"She didn't even tell me she was pregnant. Didn't give me a goddamn chance. And now she thinks she can be a mother?" He laughed humorlessly, "This whore thinks she deserves our son's love and forgiveness, that she deserves a second chance. She doesn't. She's still just that pathetic, desperate, unlovable girl who let me fuck her in the back of a car and in gas station bathrooms, because that was all she was good for," Killian could see Emma shrinking smaller and smaller as the venomous words cut into her skin like the ice cold air around them, "She kept my son from me, and tossed him into the system. The same system that made her into such a useless, broken mess. She doesn't deserve anything, other than to have her heart ripped out the way she ripped out mine."
Killian was shaking, and David's hand on his arm was a warning not to take the bait. But he wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in the man who was hurting Emma so badly, both with his words and his actions.
It had clearly never occurred to Neal, psychopath that he was, that Emma had been broken by him, when he'd abandoned her all those years ago. She was still a child, in the eyes of many states, and she hadn't had a single person in the world to support her through her darkest days, pregnant and alone in a prison cell.
Yet Neal somehow had the audacity to blame her and say she'd ripped his heart out? If Emma hadn't been injured and half-conscious, Killian knew she would have fought back against his words. Because she had to know now that none of what he said was true, right?
She had to know that the people in her life truly loved her and that she deserved that love. Even if he hadn't given her those three words yet (and he would, he promised himself, he would...as soon as she was safe and all of this was over), she had to know how deeply he cared for her. That she mattered and that she was anything but useless and broken.
"Don't listen to him, Swan."
Killian whispered under his breath, trying to will some strength into her as he saw hers fading fast.
Suddenly, the door of the cabin flew open, and for a moment everyone's attention was averted. A young boy, Emma's son, launched himself at Neal's legs with a shout.
"Stop hurting my mom!"
He yelled, and Neal's split-second distraction allowed Emma the chance to summon some adrenaline-fuelled strength and wrench herself out of his grasp.
Killian could hardly breathe as he watched it unfold in slow motion. But instead of making a run for it the second she was free, Emma spun around and punched Neal in the face, causing him to stagger backwards, dropping his gun as she pushed Henry in the direction of the relative safety offered by the wall of cops less than 20 yards away.
"Go. Run to them, kid," Killian heard her say, and he could see the child's hesitance to leave her, but she raised her voice sternly, and her panic was palpable, "Henry, go!"
Neal was scrambling to his feet, grabbing the fallen shotgun again and launching for her with a snarl. Killian readied his weapon, his hands no longer shaking as determination prickled under his skin. Even in her weakened state, Emma was quick on her feet, sidestepping Neal's attempts to regain control of her.
The fact that Henry was now in the care of the police, and with his plan to inevitably disappear with his son, aided by his father, well and truly ruined, Neal was angrier than ever.
"Drop your weapon!"
Graham's voice demanded through the megaphone, but Neal's focus was solely on Emma. He stepped forward, and she stepped back, edging her way to the porch steps. Instead of dropping the shotgun, he began to lift it.
"I don't care if they shoot me, but you take one more step and I'll blow your brains out before they take me down, Ems. I swear to god-"
"Nothing you said is true, y'know. I'm not useless. I'm not broken. And I didn't throw my child away, no matter what you think. You've never done a selfless thing in your miserable life, Neal, so I don't expect you to understand. But before this is over, even if this is it for both of us, I just want you to know that you're wrong. I am loved, and I deserve to be. I always did, no matter what you wanted me to believe."
Killian could only just hear what she was saying, her voice hoarse and her exhaustion evident. But it made his heart soar. The next few seconds happened in slow motion for all of them though, as Emma turned and launched herself down the porch steps, as Neal once again aimed the shotgun. Killian took aim too; an automatic reflex to protect the woman he loved.
Two shots rang out simultaneously.
Neal dropped on the porch, his body lifeless before he even hit the deck. Emma dropped to her hands and knees in the snow, white stained red as she cried out.
In seconds, Killian was by her side, his pulse pounding in his ears as the EMTs who'd arrived to the scene a few minutes after them hurried to assess the situation.
"Emma, darling, hold on. I've got you. You're gonna be alright, I promise-" "I knew you were here. I knew you'd find me."
She whispered, her breathing shallow and her grip on his hand weak. He tucked her hair away from her face, brushing his thumb tenderly over her cheek as he tried to muster a smile for her, even as the EMTs tried to move him away.
"I'll always find you, my love."
She looked as though she was fighting to stay awake, and it scared him. She was losing a lot of blood, if the state of the snow around her was anything to go by, and they needed to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.
One gunshot wound near the left scapula, and one right side, lateral mid-thoracic, he heard one of the EMTs say to the other. He didn't understand much, other than that she'd been shot twice.
"Henry-"
Emma choked out, trying to look around, and Killian squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"He's with Will and Dave. We've got him, don't you worry. He'll be checked out at the hospital, which is where they're gonna take you now, too."
The EMTs manoeuvring her onto the stretcher caused her to lose her grip on his hand and she whimpered, grasping for him desperately. He immediately laced his fingers with hers, rubbing her bruised knuckles gently.
"It's alright, Swan. I'm not going to leave your side; I'll be riding in the ambulance right beside you," he gave a pointed look to one of the EMTs, silently telling them it was non-negotiable, and he received a nod in return, "It's gonna be alright, just stay with us...Emma, stay with me, love."
Her breathing was getting more and more shallow, and she was drifting in and out of consciousness. He was shaking, heart racing, as they loaded her into the ambulance.
"Killian," she whispered, barely audible now, her grip on his hand loosening and her words dying on her lips as she faded out, "I-..."
CS
NB: Please feel free to scream at me in the comments. I live for that kind of feedback!