The Common Cold

CS genre: Deleted scene (6 weeks of peace between 4a and 4b)

"Hey, Killian!" Henry said as he slid into the booth across from his mom's boyfriend, "where were you this morning? I thought you were going to come pick me up at the loft so we could go sailing."

Killian set down his coffee mug with a grimace. "My apologies lad, it seems to have slipped my mind."

Henry looked at him intently, his brows furrowed in the way Swan's often were when she was intent on ferreting out information.

"You look…upset or something," Henry said after a moment. "Is something wrong."

Killian glanced aside and scratched behind his ear. "It's merely that…your mother seems rather vexed with me today and I've no idea what I've done to incur her wrath. I spoke to her on the telephone, and she seemed quite annoyed."

To Killian's surprise (and disquiet), the lad smiled. "Is that all?"

"Aye, that's all," Killian said with a scowl, "but I fail to see why it should elicit a smile. I'd quite prefer to be in my girlfriend's good graces if it's all the same to you."

"No, that's not it!" Henry said earnestly. "I wasn't making fun of you. It's just…mom's not upset with you. She woke up with a cold this morning and that always makes her cranky. And then Grandma and Grandpa took one look at her and ordered her back to bed, and that made her even more annoyed."

Killian frowned. The lad was making no sense. "Aye…" he said carefully, "it was quite chilly this morning, as the effects of Ingrid's magic have not entirely worn off, but I fail to see why that should incur Swan's ire. And why the bloody hell should that induce her parents to send her to bed."

"Not cold," Henry said patiently. "A cold. You know, a sickness?"

"Swan's ill?" he asked quickly, his concern swiftly mounting. "What's being done for her? Who's caring for her? Why wasn't I informed?"

Henry looked taken aback by his panic. "Hey, it's okay!" he said quickly, "a cold's no big deal. Just, you know, sneezing, runny nose, sore throat, coughing, that sort of thing. She's fine. Cranky, but fine."

Killian breathed a quick sigh of relief, suddenly feeling foolish. "I'm quite glad to hear it. Is anyone seeing to her needs as she battles this cold?"

Henry snorted. "Mom's not much on being fussed over. Grandma tried this morning but…well, none of us have a death wish."

"Lucky for me," Killian said after draining the last of his now luke-warm coffee, "I'm good at surviving. I'm afraid our sailing venture will have to wait, lad. I've work to do to show your mother she no longer needs to suffer alone."

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma sat up, shoved her tangle of hair irritably out of her face, swiped a tissue from the box on her nightstand, and blew viciously, scowling fiercely at the pain the motion caused her nose, tender from being blown far too many times already. She lay back against her pillows, wincing at the pain every time she tried to swallow.

She'd fought all kinds of villains over the last couple of years since she found out the truth about her life and heritage. She'd defeated the Evil Queen's curse, fought Cora, tried her best not to go blind from all the eye-rolling at Greg and Tamara, fought Pan, defeated the Wicked Witch, and neutralized the Snow Queen.

And now a stupid common cold had ambitions to take her out. Was she going to stand for it? Hell no. These germs better watch themselves because they were going down.

She coughed, a deep wracking motion that seemed to reach down to her very toes. Apparently they were going to put up a hell of a fight before they actually went down.

At least her family had finally gotten the message and decided to leave her alone. Last thing she wanted was people hovering while she dealt with this latest scourge.

Emma heard the door to the Charmings' loft open below. She listened, heard footsteps head in the direction of the kitchen, a sack being placed on the counter, the faucet being turned on and then off, more footsteps.

"Swan?" Killian called before evidently beginning his climb up the stairs. "Your lad told me you're ill, love. What can I do to help you?"

Emma groaned, pulling her comforter up over her head. Wonderful. She should have known her ridiculous pirate boyfriend wouldn't let her be miserable in peace.

She felt the bed dip beside her, and felt his hand caress her arm through the blankets. Scowling, she pulled the coverlet off of her face, and felt her fly-away hair poof all around her.

He looked down at her, tender concern evident in his sympathetic eyes.

She sighed. He looked perfect. Gorgeous as always, hair artfully disheveled, guyliner carefully applied, scruff perfectly groomed. He looked like that, while she lay here looking like death warmed over. There was no justice in the world. None at all.

"What are you doing here, Killian?" she asked in a hard voice (well, she tried to ask in a hard voice. There's something about nasal congestion that ruins the bad-ass effect).

He reached up and smoothed her hair. "Isn't it obvious love? I'm here to care for my girlfriend in her time of need."

Killian turned from her for a moment and grabbed something off her nightstand. "I've procured a number of items I trust will help you in the healing process. Are you up to taking a bit of Jello? I've been led to believe it has marvelous curative properties."

Emma looked at the gelatinous concoction in the bowl he held out to her and chuckled as she got to a seated position. "You know, Killian, just because they serve this stuff at the hospital doesn't mean it's medicine."

He nodded, pushing the bowl toward her until she took it. "Oh aye, I'm well aware love, but as soon as your lad apprised me of your current ailment I betook myself to the library and did a bit of research. It would seem Jello is, in fact, a recommended item for the common cold. It's easy to digest, and the smooth, coolness will sooth your throat."

Emma took a bite of the red concoction, pleasantly surprised at how soothing it truly was on her raw throat. She was touched, in spite of herself. "You…you actually did research about how to take care of me?"

He nodded again. "Aye," he said, laying his hand against her forehead and smiling when he evidently deemed her fever-free. "I'd wager the state of medicine has changed quite substantially since I last endeavored to care for an ill person."

She gave him a close, assessing look. "Why?"

His brow furrowed. "Why, what, love?"

She turned aside, picking at a loose thread on her comforter. "Why…are you doing all of this, you know, for me? Why do you care?"

With a gentle finger, he turned her head until she could see his eyes. "Why do I care? Because, Emma, you're my girlfriend. I care for you, more than I have words to say. Because you deserve to have someone see to your needs for a change."

She felt the tears burn the back of her throat. "Th…thank you."

He smiled warmly, and then gently caressed her cheek. "You've no need to thank me. There's no place I'd rather be than by your side. Now, if you'll pardon me for a moment, I left water on the stove for tea. Hot beverages are said to be particularly soothing, and when you feel up to another meal, I procured a quart of chicken soup from Granny's."

Without another word, he made his way down the loft stairs, and she listened as he made her tea, and then returned with the steaming mug in hand.

"I'd no idea what kind of tea you might favor, but I always enjoy a good stout Irish Breakfast, myself," he said, setting the mug on her bedside table. "I took the liberty to sweeten it with a bit of honey; I hope that's to your liking."

Killian sat back beside her on the bed, and she took his hand, bringing it slowly to her lips. "It's…it's perfect."

He smiled at her, and then turned away once more, reaching for something in his bag. She stopped him with a hand to his arm. "I'm sorry for, you know, ignoring your calls, this morning and then nearly biting your head off when you did get ahold of me. I'm just…you know…not used to people putting me first. Not used to people taking care of me. I guess when I started getting sick, I got scared or something."

He looked down at her with concern. "Of what were you frightened? Did you fear your illness to be severe and dangerous?"

She shook her head and then sneezed. She blew her nose once again, and then turned back toward him. "It's just..something about being sick makes me feel like when I was a little kid back in the foster system. After…after the Swans sent me back, I was always scared my new families would get rid of me if I wasn't, you know, perfect. Being sick…well, I was always convinced the families would see me as a burden and send me back. Then once I got older and I was in the group home…they might give you medicine and stuff, but nobody cared. Nobody wanted to spend time with the sick kid. I was just…a burden."

She saw the pain in his eyes, felt the extra tenderness in the way he caressed her face, hair, arm, anything he could reach. "You listen to me, Emma Swan, and you listen carefully. You are not now, and you will never be a burden. I'm here because I want to be. I'm here because it gives me pleasure to care for you, it brings me joy to be of service to you. And I'm quite certain your parents and your lad feel quite the same way. Whatever pain you had to endure in the past, it's over now. You have many, many people who will stand by your side no matter what may befall you."

Emma felt the tears begin to flow then, touched beyond belief at his words, his vehemence. He reached over, and wiped the moisture away, allowing her a moment of emotion, before he sat back and reached for the mug.

"Now, if you please," he said, "you'd best drink this while it's hot."

Killian stayed with her for the rest of the day, waiting on her every need, telling her stories to pass the time and soothe her to sleep, ("It's what my mother used to do for me when I was ill as a child, Swan."), doing all in his power to make her as comfortable as possible.

When her parents and her son returned home, they were equally attentive, and yet another of Emma's walls crumbled.

As night fell, and she heard her parents put her brother down for the night, as she heard them, themselves settle in for the night, Killian softly closed the book he'd been reading to her, leaning down to softly kiss her forehead.

"I'd best leave you to your rest, love," he said gently. "I'll return on the morrow."

He turned to leave, but she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Stay," she said simply.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"I mean…" she said, glancing aside, "I don't want to give you my germs or anything, but you…you make me feel better. Would you, maybe stay with me tonight?"

His eyes lit up with the joy of his smile. Without a word, he removed his hook and brace, his jacket, his boots, and climbed in beside her, wrapping her in his arms. "I don't fear your germs, Swan. Should they attack, perhaps you'll return the favor and care for me, aye?"

She smiled, threading her fingers with his, and then kissing his cheek. "You can count on it. Goodnight, Killian."

"Goodnight, Love. Feel better soon."

She snuggled closer into him. "I already do."

Notes:

-I hope you're having a wonderful Friday. We're only about a month away from 5b, now!

-I've gotten several very promising prompts from readers, which I definitely plan to fill eventually, but I decided to push them off to another week. I've been struggling with a sinus infection all week, and I decided if I have to suffer than so does a part of my otp. I've already written a 3 or 4 shot about Killian being sick and Emma caring for him, so now it's the savior's turn.

-I'm not sure if this is TOTALLY fluffy, but my germs are starting to make me as grumpy as they were making Emma in this story, and, well, this was about as fluffy as I could get this week!

-Up next: I think I'm going to attempt a canon divergence from season 2: What would have happened if Emma hadn't left Hook in New York after he stabbed Gold at Neal's apartment? (This will be a challenge…especially because my answer to the above question right at the moment is….I have no idea! All I know is that there was entirely too little Hook/Killian in 2b (Colin really needs to be banned from skiing and all other activities that might result in injuries that leave him unable to work for several weeks at a time), and that very much needs to be remedied, even if it's just through canon divergent fics.)