(This one shot really doesn't go right along in canon, though until midway through episode 6x17 it still "could" have happened. I'm not saying I wanted it to instead of what we got, just that it didn't really go canon divergent until then. It's mainly born of a prompt I saw floating around Tumblr some time ago, about a character being badly injured and two others trying to help, one being so affected by the first character's pain that they had to let the other take over and help get the job done. I had filed it away thinking that I wanted to use it, and even knowing which three characters to use it for, but it wasn't until Killian ran afoul of the Lost Boys on his unplanned trip to Neverland that the way to make it happen finally presented itself. Hope you enjoy! I still don't own them, nor do I own the initial idea germ that got me started. If it's yours, I'm sorry I don't remember to credit you. )
I would love to hear what people think! Reviews make a writer's entire day!
"Helping Hands"
By: snowbellewells
(Will also be in "Of Swan and Swords and Hopeful Hearts" collection under TutorGirlml on )
The portal dumped them out on the beach, tumbling knees over elbows in a heap on the wet, misty stretch of rocky sand, interrupted only by larger rocks and hunks of twisted driftwood until it faded into the edge of the wild forest they remembered. David immediately reached to help his daughter up; even though Emma was already gathering her feet under herself, his chivalrous nature couldn't be ignored.
Snow would be spitting mad if she were aware that they had come back to Neverland and unknown danger without her, but what she didn't know in her cursed sleep wouldn't hurt him he figured. There would be time enough to deal with that when they returned to Storybrooke – what with the Black Fairy there, and by now probably on an angry rampage with her rebelling "son" joining his real father and mother in fighting her, not to mention Regina antagonizing her and thwarting her as well at every available opportunity. With luck, maybe things would be too chaotic for Snow to even realize the risk they had taken. However, the fact that all of their sometimes friends and enemies had joined forces against this new threat and were doing a solid job of holding the twisted evil being off and distracting her had made this hopefully quick retrieval mission possible. Though Emma had been angry, off-kilter, and lost ever since Hook's disappearance and certainly not at full fighting strength, they couldn't have left town completely if the newest menace to its inhabitants had not been sufficiently occupied and at least momentarily contained.
It had taken quite a bit of figuring and sleuthing to even discover where they needed to go to find Killian. Gideon could have told them, but even with Gold and Belle swearing that he wasn't purely evil, they could get through to him, Emma wasn't trusting that overgrown brat again anytime soon. Nearly being the nest lining of some giant Shelob wannabe was lesson enough, and she would not be making that mistake twice. Still, between Ariel surfacing offshore looking exhausted and bedraggled and explaining how she'd been with Killian in Agrabah and tried to get word to them sooner but something had blocked her, and Blackbeard riding into the harbor on a portal that nearly overturned Leroy's little fishing trawler and gave he, Happy, and Dopey quite a scare, and marching right down the docks to Emma claiming that the Jolly was now his thanks to how "besotted that pup was with her" and a handily loaded deck of cards, they got the idea of where her pirate was stranded and just how urgently they had better reach him.
By the time they had bartered with Blackbeard for another bean and listened to him crow about how they were doing it all for nothing, those feral, savage youths had probably gotten Hook by now, Emma was actually pacing the station and vibrating with anxiety. Their way in hand, David brooked no argument about accompanying her. Regina assured them she would keep an eye on Henry and baby Neal, and continue trying to break the curse on Snow's heart in the meantime. She was just giving a warning reminder for them to watch themselves and try not to completely rewrite history, when Emma threw the bean down, unable to wait a second longer, and the swirling vortex cut the other woman off. Instead, Regina simply gave a small smile as Emma and David plunged in.
Now, however, staring across the vacant strand and crashing waves, the desolate, silent wildness of the place where they'd landed gave Emma pause. Something foreboding lingered in the air of this place, even though Pan was gone and it was no longer perpetual night. The very breath of the island seemed to warn them away, and she shivered thinking of Killian here alone all these days, even as she shot David a quick, determined look and they started for the tree line. Captain Hook might have lived here for centuries, but things were different now. He was different.
They set out doggedly, resolved to find their pirate and bring him home, whether they knew where to start and what awaited them or not. Pushing into the dense vegetation and dark forest, as the beach seemed completely deserted, Emma couldn't help noting once more how eerily silent it remained, even in the cover of trees and the shield of dim light; there weren't even the natural sounds of scuttling small animal feet, birds calling overhead, or insects buzzing in the muggy heat that still permeated the island, just as she remembered. Not only was it unnatural and unnerving, but it made she and David's movement through the brush seem incredibly loud, and she worried they could be heard coming for miles.
Perhaps it was the rough, overgrown quality of the largely uninhabited land, the odd half-darkness constantly hanging over it, or a reflection of the unruliness in the hearts of those who did roam its shores and caves, but despite the month that their little rescue party had spent traipsing across Neverland previously, nothing now appeared familiar to Emma's eyes. So it was that as David pulled ahead to hack through a particularly stubborn and thick vine hanging completely across their path, that when Emma charged forward once it fell, she found herself nearly walking right off a steeply plunging ledge that had been almost completely hidden until too late by overlarge palm fronds, the murky dim light, and the shrubbery dense upon the forest floor. She pitched forward, frighteningly, pin wheeling her arms to stay upright and move backward, but if David had not been there beside her to grab her arm and quickly steady her equilibrium, she would have careened violently down the slope to a debilitating landing.
Once righted, Emma sucked in a tight, nervous breath, rolled her shoulders, and shot her father a small, sideways quirk of a sheepishly relieved smile along with her thanks. Leaning over just slightly, in control now and some morbid curiosity needing to see the bottom and just how far she might have fallen, Emma gazed down, squinting in the dusk and humid fog. When she did, though, the bright metallic gleam of something below caught her eye and held it fast.
"David, do you see…?" she started hesitantly, hoping she was wrong, not wanting to find him like this, but then the stringy mist cleared for a beat and she could see clearly. Suddenly, she knew, and a horrified gasp escaped her. "He's down there!" she cried out, clutching her father's arm. "We have to get to him!"
David peered over himself, and amidst the leaves and branches on the way and the grey haze, he glimpsed a darker black of slicked leather and the glint of silver metal in the patchy shafts of light through the trees. His friend and his daughter's True Love could very well be lying down there, broken, his hook all they could recognize of him. He wasn't far behind Emma at all when she began to clamber down the slope, practically on her rear, with feet braced to slow her descent and hand scrabbling behind her all the way – in such panicked hurry to reach her love that she barely registered any cut or scrapes picked up as she went.
They reached the lower ground with a lurch and bump, and Hook's crumpled form only feet in front of them was now clearly distinguishable, stalling Emma's heartbeat cold in her chest. What had happened? He was so still – not an inch of that fight and bravado and warmth apparent – and they simply couldn't reach him fast enough for her.
Skidding to a halt at his side at last, Emma fell next to him impatiently, swiping her matted hair from her face to see better and ignoring the stinging of scratches across her palms and up her forearms from her mad scramble down rough terrain. There was no time to think of what she'd done to herself when Killian lay before her battered and torn.
She felt more than actually saw her father crouch at Killian's other side, both of them taking stock of the pirate's condition, and realizing how dire it appeared. There was a gash at his temple, sliced diagonally down and just missing his left eye. Blood was dried and caked below it on that side of his face and neck, and there was definite purple bruising around the eye as well. His button-down shirt was torn and scorched in places and hung completely open to reveal numerous welts seemingly burned into his flesh. Various slices, cuts and bruises littered the exposed skin of his arms and torso that were visible, but the most frightening sight of all was the deep gash of a stab wound in his gut on the right side, as if someone had purposefully gone in under his ribs and attempted to slash him open.
As Emma stared at the wound and the dirt, small rocks and debris she could see were embedded in it from what had clearly been a violent fall down the same slope they'd just scaled – probably a shove to what was meant as a painful, languishing death – tears welled in her eyes. He still didn't answer, even as she bent to pleadingly whisper his name at his ear, hoping to call him back to her. Her pirate had been beaten, tortured, broken, and then tossed like discarded trash to lie alone and forgotten as he slipped into unconsciousness. It hurt like a knife in her own chest to imagine the pain and then the despair he must have felt as he faded away.
She did gain at least an ounce of relief when she felt a shallow but present and warm breath escape Killian's lips to brush across her cheek as she leaned in close. An incoherent but audible moan was loosed as well when David jostled his mate slightly trying to get a better look at the wound to his side.
The prince's eyes lifted to meet his daughter's over Hook's prone form, the expression in them apologetic but certain. "We have to get that cleaned out before it gets infected…if it hasn't already," he stated tightly. "We need to stop the bleeding and bind it up."
Emma nodded, biting her lip and already struggling with the cold pit of dread in her stomach at the added pain they were going to cause him. She was able to attempt small healing spells with her magic, and she was pretty sure she could close up that injury as well, but she worried about what might be left inside him and how long he had been like this, what infection and aftereffects might already have set in. This extent of damage needed stronger magic than she was sure she could weld right now, especially over someone she cared for so much and under the pull of this kind of emotion.
Her dad surprised her then by reaching out to take her hand and snapping her back to the present, to the task immediately before them. "Emma," he prompted, face taut, eyes serious, "can you do this or not?"
She gave a curt nod, steeling herself and blowing out a tense breath. She could. She had to. It pained her to even consider how much Killian was already hurting if he was aware enough to feel anything at all, but considering that she would be making it worse in her attempt to help him took another moment or two. That done, she squared her shoulders, met David's eyes across Killian's body, and reached for the gaping hole in his side.
She had to brush some dirt and mud away to even have a clear view, but just that light contact near the gapping skin brought a low, distressed whimper from Killian's slack lips and some fretful movement. It was almost as though his unconscious body was pitiably trying to shield itself from further blows. Emma blinked back the film of unshed tears gathering in her vision and soldiered on. Finding his flask still stowed at his hip, and knowing all too well from his own example long ago on their first adventure together that rum could be used to clean and disinfect, she braced herself, unscrewed the stopper, and upended it over the wound site.
With a howl of agony, Killian's body shot half-upright before slumping back to the ground, gasping is white hot agony. His breathing turned to harsh, loud pants, and Emma could see his jaw clench and unclench tightly along with the muscles in his forearms and his bared abdomen. His eyes flickered open for the briefest of moments, so blue against his smudged, dirt-caked face, and they looked both awed, as if he thought he was dreaming her, and also confusedly betrayed, as if not sure why she would join in his torment. "Swan?" he breathed, so softly as to almost be unheard.
"I'm so sorry, Killian," she whispered back, pausing just a moment to brush his disheveled hair off his forehead, hoping to offer a tiny bit of comfort. When he winced at even that, her finger grazing some unseen cut or bruise, her heart broke yet again into even smaller pieces.
He panted once more, his chest rising and falling erratically as his hand fumbled to clutch at her fingers for a moment when they fell away from his face. "Those ruddy Lost Boys – don't let them find you here," he forced out breathlessly, pressing her fingers almost painfully tight in emphasis. "You shouldn't have come back to this – this bloody rock – for me!"
"Of course, I should!" she bit back fiercely, tears falling now through her dismay. "I can't lose you, remember?" Pulling her fingers from his grip, newly determined to get him patched up and home to a real doctor or more experienced magic user as soon as possible, Emma forced herself once more to delve her fingers into the open wound, probing for any last detritus that must come out before they closed it. Her fingers found a rather large twig of some sort and began to pull it out when something inside him caught it on its way. Kilian's whole body jerked as if touched by a live wire and a strangled scream escaped her pirate unwillingly, ringing between the empty cliff wall and surrounding trees. His eyes caught hers, pleading for mercy, and then he went slack, losing consciousness once more.
"Killian!" she cried out, momentarily panicked, even if the whole process would be easier with him out cold. "Killian, I'm sorry! Wake up! …Killian!"
But there was no response as she leaned over him anxiously, shaking his chest and her voice trembling with desperate fear.
Gently, her father, whose presence she had almost forgotten, took her hands in his, disregarding the blood and dirt coating them or the way they shivered in his hold. "It's okay, Emma," he said calmly. Hating to see his friend hurt and his daughter so distraught, but also seeing that he had to hold them together and keep some semblance of calm in the final hurdle, David assured, "We're almost done, and then we'll get him home," without an ounce of fear or doubt.
Instructing Emma to brace her pirate's shoulders in case he woke or startled again, David took over the retrieval, getting the last charred remnant removed from Killian's side. These wild youths were heathen terrors as far as he was concerned. However Killian had been hurt, they had obviously put him through something savage; some torture he had barely weathered long enough for them to find him, and to which a weaker person would already have succumbed.
At last he looked up at Emma, who seemed to read his intention and handed him the flask so he could pour the very last of the rum over the gash once more. Killian stirred only fretfully now, murmuring something feverishly that sounded a bit like, "Emma, why?" and catching at both their hearts. His skin felt troublingly hot, and David knew fever setting in was never a good sign.
Packing a handkerchief he pulled from his back pocket against the worst of the opening, he watched as Emma fished a black scarf she seemed to know would be on Killian's person from inside the other man's modern jacket and gave him a wobbly, wet grin. With an exasperated, knowing shake of the head and fondness in her eyes upon laying hands on the accessory, David became certain of some story he wasn't privy to – and it reminded him strongly of he and Snow. Wordlessly, he helped his daughter lift her True Love slightly so that she could the material around Killian's torso, binding the whole first aid attempt as best they could for the journey.
"Thanks, Dad," she offered solemnly when they had finished, the look on her face clearly wanting to offer more. He could see how her delicate throat worked swallowing, and he only nodded in understanding and pulled her close in a quick hug. Getting to their feet, they propped Killian's unconscious body between them, making sure they had a tight hold to keep the three of them together in transit. Emma dropped the other bean they had wrangled from Blackbeard for the journey home onto the ground before them, and as the portal swirled, they dove in. On their way home with their pirate, to safety.