A/N: I needed some cheering up last week and you all came through. Thank you! xoxo
Always, thanks to shippingtheswann for the cheering and beta work (go read her wonderful story!), imagnifika for finding the heart of the story with her art, halobxist & meanderingcaptainswanmusings for everything xo. And please keep supporting all the other CSBB authors and artists. The content everyone is bringing is truly amazing.
And now to see if some secrets are ready to be revealed.
Chapter 6
She's exhausted.
After Killian left, she simply stared at the door as the minutes ticked by, part of her hoping he would come back, another small part, grateful he didn't. She needed a moment to be alone and collect her thoughts, a moment to feel sorry for herself.
She curls up on her side but stiffens when she hears the crinkle of paper. She reaches behind her, hand falling on the envelope. She pulls it to her front and her eyes find her name written in meticulous handwriting. Her finger draws across the letters before resting her hand across the whole thing. Somehow it helps settle her breathing. She thinks of the petite woman, maybe taking care when she wrote her name, the hope she may have had. Emma flips on her back and takes the envelope with her, hugging it to her chest. Her thoughts drift to Mary Margaret and David back home, probably thinking of her, and although the guilt of running away is beginning to lie heavy on her mind, knowing someone out there might have her on their mind is... nice.
She closes her eyes and lets her mind wander. She thinks of the things she's already seen here, places she never imagined she'd see, places she'll be able to think back on for years with fondness. She thinks of the kindness of the people, and the beauty all around her. She thinks of all the things she's accomplished that she never would have believed herself capable.
She thinks of Killian's smile. Not the one he throws her way when she bursts into the room with more places for them to visit, nor the one when she's animatedly telling him a story. She thinks of the moments when she's across a room and she finds his eyes on hers, when she's at the pub getting them a pint and the corner of his mouth ticks up and his eyes soften.
She pauses her thoughts and leans over the bed to reach for her backpack. She pulls out a postcard from the front pocket, it carries a beautiful view of Giant's Causeway at dusk, not a soul in sight. Quite unlike their time there, milling about with dozens of other tourists, all gearing for a perfect photo op among the thousands of amazing basalt columns. She herself had carefully stepped her way to the other side and then immediately worried she wouldn't be able to spot Killian among the crowd. But after a moment, there he was, patiently waiting. She could tell the moment he saw her spot him because that same smile slipped onto his face right before he'd settled his camera lens on her as she spread her arms wide.
Do you remember how you smiled at me that day? Sometimes I think no one has looked at me the way you do. Is that crazy? I hope I haven't ruined it. I hope I see that look again.
She scrawls the writing quickly across the card and then tucks it away abruptly when she feels her eyes threaten to fill.
She presses the palms of her hands into her eyelids until she sees spots.
She thinks of Ruby.
She sits up and reaches for her phone.
ES: I miss you.
She tosses the phone on the bed and gets up, determined to let Killian have some time to himself but also not wanting to lie there on the bed lost in thoughts that threaten to drag her down – I'll shower , she finally decides except, no sooner does she get her stuff out of her bag does her phone start ringing.
A video call from Ruby.
Emma rolls her eyes but she can't help the grin that immediately brightens her face, she plops down on her bed and swipes to answer the call.
"What's wrong?" Ruby asks in lieu of a hello.
Emma raises her brows.
"Hello to you too."
Ruby leans closer to her camera, trying to get a better look at her friend. Emma patiently waits, eyes blinking. Ruby leans back, arms crossed.
"Well you look okay," Ruby finally decides, eyes still narrowed but Emma can see the smile forming. "Oh, Ems! You look great. I miss you too."
With that Emma finally feels some of the tension leave her body. She falls to her side, head on her pillow and takes her phone with her.
"Where are you? What's new? What have I missed?" Emma asks, looking for a distraction. Ruby knowing her friend well, launches into a detailed description of the last two weeks. Everything from the weather and the latest case she's working on, to the new restaurant she'd tried the night before.
"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong now?"
Ruby drops her chin to her hand and waits. Emma closes her eyes and wrestles with what to tell her.
She pops one eye opened and mumbles the next words quickly.
"So, I've been travelling with this guy."
She's surprised the hostel management doesn't come barging in at the screech Ruby makes.
"Ok ok, shh, let me explain."
xo
Emma steps out of the hostel and braces herself against the cool breeze slipping through the narrow lane. She hugs her arms tightly to her chest and scans the street in the fading light for a mailbox. She spots one in the same direction she's headed, and jogs across the street to reach it. With a sigh, and a last look at the beautiful view she lets the postcard go.
After Ruby had calmed down and listened, she echoed what Emma had been thinking, he's probably hurting too and we all deserve a chance to explain. And so she had been filled with with renewed determination to find and help Killian with whatever he is going through.
She keeps her head down against the folks heading home from work and those already on their way for Thursday night drinks, clearly eager to start the weekend early. The warm glow of street lamps already coming to life, light the sidewalk. Emma follows their path up winding Waterloo Street. She keeps her pace brisk, but slows when the blue bar front comes into view, sudden nerves bubbling their way to the surface.
What if he doesn't want her help?
She hesitates.
"Coming in, lass?"
A voice shakes her out of her thoughts and she looks up to see an older man holding the door open for her.
She still doesn't know the answer to her own question but the friendly smile helps get her through the door.
The pub is warm and welcoming, wood floors and cream colored walls curate the laid back atmosphere, as do the plush leather booths that line the sides. Emma scans the bar first, the wood gleaming from the lamps overhead, a few local patrons sit on stools chatting over drinks. A horse race is playing silently on one of the few flat screens overhead and there is already a quiet hum that accompanies the beginnings of a good night. She takes a few more steps in, smiling at the waiter that slips by with a tray full of empty pints.
"Anywhere you see fit," he says in passing.
Emma nods and moves further in. It doesn't take her long to find him, just long enough to find the darkest corner of the bar.
Killian is crumpled in the back of a booth, eyes on the amber liquid he's swirling around his glass. By the looks of things, it's clearly not his first and after scanning the bar one last time, it doesn't look like they serve food, so he doesn't have anything else in him either.
Emma sighs.
"This seat taken?" she asks softly.
He doesn't look up but he does nudge the chair out an inch for her. She counts to ten, hands resting on the back of the chair, lest she get upset before figuring out what is really going on. She eyes the long empty side of the booth he's sitting on and makes a decision. She ignores the chair and slides into the booth beside him. She's just shrugging out of her jacket when the waiter arrives. She surveys Killian again, who has yet to look up.
"A pint of Smithwicks and two glasses of water, please," she asks and no sooner are the words out of her mouth does she hear a glass clunk down on the table, a glass that had been half full moments before.
"Another, if you'd be so kind," Killian mumbles, index finger pointing at his tumbler. The waiter shows no outward reaction, simply nodding and clearing away the empty glass.
So, it's going to be that kind of night - Emma thinks and decides to get comfortable. She kicks off her shoes, and pulls her legs up onto the bench. She figures she can wait him out a little.
She passively watches as the bar fills with locals and tourists alike, and as Killian fills himself with rum. She keeps to her lone beer and water, nursing them both slowly, hoping that Killian eventually reaches for the water she got for him.
As the evening trickles into night, the sounds around them rise from a hum to a buzz as a band begins to set up in the corner. It's then that she finally decides to raise her voice.
"Have you eaten?"
His finger pauses in its journey around the edge of his glass and he sniffs but doesn't answer. She resists the urge to snatch his glass away.
For the moment.
"Fair enough, stupid question. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
Instead of answering her question, he finally lifts his head and leans it against the leather backing. His cheeks should be rosy from the drink but he looks ashen in the dim light. His black lashes flutter against the darkened circles beneath his eyes. He rolls his head in her direction and finally his eyes open, glassy but he slowly manages to focus on her. He studies her as he brings the glass to his lips.
"So your family found you and you what? Ran the first chance you got? Do you know how selfish that is?"
This time she snatches his glass away, and with Killian not expecting it, she takes it easily. He drops his eyes and hands to his lap, as if he's already regretting his words. She holds the glass aloft. It would feel wonderful for a moment to dump it on his lap, it would feel even better to drink the strong rum down herself.
Instead she drops it on the table beside her and slides it out of reach.
Emma is no stranger to this kind of behavior, having perfected the role herself. The difference she's beginning to guess, is that she has people who care for her enough to stick around. She's not sure if Killian has anyone, and so she will try to be his person.
Although, not without making a few things clear.
"Hey."
When he doesn't move, she reaches out for his hand and pulls it into her lap.
"Killian. You're throwing a lot of shots my way, maybe cool it a little? I know I look tough, but it hurts. Just, you know, ask me a few questions and give me the chance to answer before deciding you have it all figured out."
His eyes finally flash to hers and she can already see the regret. He seems to want to pull away even as his fingers tighten on hers. His mouth opens and closes before she sees something she doesn't understand yet fill his eyes. He closes them against the onslaught of whatever is bothering him and drops his head against the back of the booth.
"I'm sorry," he finally whispers.
"Thank you," she whispers back and gives his hand a squeeze before deciding to give in a little. To be the one to reveal a small truth. She looks down at their joined hands and runs her thumb across his knuckles. He may not realize it, and she's sure he would scoff at the suggestion, but she finds strength in the way he's holding onto her.
"I did run."
His head turns abruptly to her, a protest clear in the statement he wears but she waves him off with her free hand.
"I did. I ran. I couldn't get out of the diner fast enough. If what they represented was true, if they were my parents and their tears were real then everything I've believed, all the anger i've held onto over the years, was it all for nothing? Should I have been looking for them instead? I didn't –" Emma pauses, and looks around the bar, at the patrons enjoying their evening, unaware of the heavy conversation happening in their booth. She thinks, at one time, she would have been bitter and jealous and angry. She would have eyed the people in the pub with disdain, these people that didn't have to live through what she's lived through. She brings her eyes back to Killian. To his sad eyes that wait on what she'll say next, to the solid warmth of his hand in hers and to the stories he hasn't told her yet, just like any number of people here and she doesn't feel so alone.
"I didn't know how to deal with it, I don't know how to, even now. I've been alone my whole life, they left me first and that does something to a person, but I'm hoping to come back stronger. I'm not there yet but every day that envelope seems a little less scary and one day soon I'll open it."
Saying it out loud, she thinks she might actually believe it.
Her hand shakes as she reaches for the water but for once she embraces it, the nerves, the worries, the truths. She takes a deep pull of the cold water and returns her gaze to the man beside her. There's dampness in the corner of his eyes and she just wants to pull him into her arms.
"I'm sorry," he whispers again and this time she's ready to comfort him but he continues on, "and don't say it's okay because it's not. I'm, –" his voice catches and he stops, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Killian, I understand."
But he shakes his head, breathing in through his nose.
"You're everything that's light and good and I'm just, broken," he says in a voice that suggests he truly believes what he is saying.
"I'm not. I'm not all that, and you're not all broken, we're both pieces and parts in between," Emma whispers with conviction, moving to entwine her fingers with his and squeezes. "So it's a good thing we fit together."
His eyes are red-rimmed when they finally rise to hers but there's a small look of reverence in them and she hopes he's really heard what she's said. She's ready to tell him as many times as he needs to hear it.
"My brother and I were supposed to take this trip together."
Her heart trips in her chest, and words for this statement fail her, so she holds on tighter as she lets him work through how much he wants to say.
His eyes blink quickly, warring back his emotions and he ends up focusing on the TV now playing a soccer match.
"Liam came up with the idea. I was itching to join him in the Royal Navy. I wanted real life experience, but he wouldn't let me drop out of school. He wanted me to get my degree and really, I was almost done. I was just being a prat, tired of the exams and work," Killian trailed off, his prosthetic pushing a coaster back and forth on the table. "He wanted me to have all the opportunities he didn't have. So he told me to focus on school and that by the time I was done he would be able to take some significant leave and as a reward, we'd travel somewhere together. After that I could figure out what I wanted to do and he'd support me either way."
She's not sure he even notices the few tears that have escaped his eyes. She wants to reach out and wipe them away but she also doesn't want to break whatever progress they've made.
"And what made you choose Ireland?" she quietly asks. There's a sad lift to his lips.
"Liam had always been enamored with the country, the history and legend, the landscape and the people. I used to tease him that it must have been because of a lass he never told me about. He'd answer back it was his love for Robbie Keane."
Emma doesn't mean to let her confusion show but the small smile he sends her way, makes her glad she did.
"Keane is a fantastic football player Liam loved to watch," Killian explains before bringing his eyes back to his lap. "I think he just held a curiosity for this lovely Emerald Isle and when I suggested it, his smile made the choice easy."
Killian pushes the coaster away and she watches his expression darken.
"He was really looking forward to being here in Londonderry, but he passed before we could even book the tickets. They said he died valiantly in the line of duty, but I always felt they were hiding the truth. Instead of a proper explanation they threw money and words of praise for his hard work my way. Liam was always careful, always smart, he wouldn't have ever been anywhere near danger," his voice rises as he explains but he catches himself when she squeezes his hand.
"We should go. Can we go? I don't feel so well," Killian suddenly mumbles, looking for the exit.
Emma quickly slips into her shoes and out of the booth so Killian can slide out. He stands but isn't steady on his feet and she holds onto his arms until he finds his balance. He slowly pats his pockets for his wallet but Emma takes his hand.
"Do you want to wait for me outside? I think the fresh air will help. I'll settle our tab and I'll get you back," Emma offers, running a hand up and down his arm. His eyes meet hers and he looks lost. "You know what, hold on."
She quickly scans the pub for their waiter and spots him heading back to the bar. She hurries over and quickly asks for a rough estimate on how much they owe. To the waiter's credit, he gives her a number quickly. Emma adds a few extra bills to the pile and graciously thanks him before returning to Killian's side.
"We're good."
But he doesn't move. He's watching her, a tremor to his hand when he reaches out to draw his fingers over the shell of her ear, tucking the hair behind. She can feel the sadness in his touch, see it in the expression he wears. She cups her hand over his and brings it between them.
"It's ok. Let's go."
He finally nods and lets himself be led from the bar.
xo
The fresh air seems to shake Killian out of the numbness he drank himself into. As soon as he steps outside, he sucks in deep shaky breaths, trying to keep his emotions in check but they get the better of him.
"Fuck," he mumbles, wiping aggressively at his eyes. Emma steps up to him and rests her hand over his heart, hoping to find the right words but before she knows what is happening, he's wrapped around her. His face buried in her neck.
She holds onto him tightly.
To most people, they simply look like a couple embracing and if anyone dares to look a little longer, Emma gives them her meanest look, it's enough to keep them moving along.
"Emma?" he finally whispers his breath hot against her skin.
"Mmm?" she asks.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
She pulls away to get a look at him and sure enough he looks ghostly white.
"Can you make it back?"
He shakes his head.
She looks around their surroundings and tugs him away from any crowds, and Killian does the rest finding a dark corner and emptying his stomach.
xo
She gets him back to the hostel, but not without a few more stops along the way.
They are quiet as they slip into their room. Killian drops heavy onto his bed, hanging his head between his knees as Emma tries to determine the best course of action. Killian doesn't seem keen to do much of anything so she heads to his bag. She has a moment of hesitation knowing what happened when she asked him go through her things.
"Killian?" she calls quietly.
"Mmm?"
"Can I open your bag? Get you something clean to put on?"
"Of course. I mean. You don't have to, you've done enough already but of course," he stumbles through his answer, swaying a little on the bed. A lot of the alcohol may have been unfortunately (or fortunately) left on the streets of Londonderry, but there was still plenty in his system.
Emma pulls out the first clean t-shirt and boxers she can find, along with his toothbrush.
She kneels in front of him.
"Your stuff is here. I'm going to use the bathroom in the hall, you use the one here. Change, brush your teeth, you'll feel better."
She waits until he nods before grabbing her own things and heading out to get washed up.
xo
She expects to find him asleep, she wasn't sure if he was actually going to change but sleep seemed like a sure bet. Except, when she comes back to into the room fifteen minutes later, he's changed, brace removed but clearly awake.
He's settled perpendicular on the bed, back against the wall, eyes finding hers as soon as she comes into the room. She lets him watch in silence as she puts her things away and turns down her bed. All she wants to do is ask how he's feeling, if there's anything she can do but she also knows, he might just need time now. He might be done with talking.
She looks over her shoulder and he has his legs pulled up, arms around his shins, head back and eyes closed. She notices that his water sits untouched beside him. She sighs and crosses the room.
She sits on the edge of his bed and uncaps the bottle.
"You know it took me years to make it here?" he asks.
So he might not be done talking after all and Emma will accept anything he's willing to share.
"I think that's normal," she says, and when he silently makes room beside him, she doesn't hesitate to mimic his position.
"I travelled everywhere I could think of instead. I think I was trying to stay ahead of the memories but they were always with me. I never stayed anywhere long, not wanting to get attached to anything," Killian explains, hand falling between them to pick at the comforter before whispering his next words, "and then I met you."
Emma sucks in a breath at the statement. Unsure of what he's trying to say, unsure if she is supposed to say anything at all. This whole evening may be a little blurry to him in the morning if she doesn't get some water into him and urge him to get some sleep.
When he doesn't seem like he's going to say any more she decides to try the water.
"Killian," she says softly, hand reaching out to squeeze his.
His tired, red rimmed eyes open and before she can pull her hand away he grasps it in his, pulling it to his lips. Pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. A fresh tear slips free.
"You should really try to sleep," she whispers and adds, "maybe a little water too?"
He gives her a sad smile but takes the water. After a long pull, he passes the water back and resumes his position against the wall, eyes closed.
"I can't," he whispers.
"You can't what?" Emma asks, capping the bottle and dropping it beside them.
He roughly rubs his hand through his hair, eyes closed tight.
"Hey, hey, Killian," she stops the movement, hand on his wrist, "what is it?"
"Last night was great, wasn't it?" he asks instead. She tilts her head, hurrying to catch up to his thoughts. She's not sure where he's going but offers him a smile when she thinks about being tucked into his side at the small pub. For those few hours, nothing mattered but the warm press of Killian beside her and the music that had flowed over them like a welcome embrace.
"It was pretty perfect," she admits, shoulder bumping his. He nods.
"I can't remember the last time I'd felt so at peace. I didn't even realize what it was until this morning," he struggles to find the right words and then fixes her with his most direct gaze of the night. "It's you. You make me feel so much, Emma. I never thought..." he trails off, again not expanding any further on what exactly he means, if even he knows, but the words trip up her heart anyway. She's surprised he doesn't feel her reaction, but she is also so very glad he can't. Tonight, it can't be about them, not like this.
"I forgot about Liam for a moment. I forgot the reason why I came here," Killian whispers and this time Emma's words come quick and sincere. She doesn't question if now is the time she should speak up.
"Killian, it's not about forgetting him. I know deep down, you know that's not what it was. You're allowed to enjoy yourself –"
"But he can't. How is that fair?" Killian interrupts, and he's not angry, he just looks like he searching for an answer he can live with.
"It's not fair and I'm sorry for that but you honor his memory by appreciating the little moments. I'm sure that's what your brother would have wanted."
"I know," he mumbles. She doesn't believe that he does but he pushes on, "And then we came back and I thought I'd just slip into a dreamless sleep but I didn't. I haven't had this nightmare in ages but I guess my mind wanted to remind me."
"Oh, Killian."
"I can't sleep, Emma. I can't dream about not being able to save him again. I don't want those thoughts to be the ones rolling around in my brain all day."
He closes his eyes tightly.
"What if I stay here with you?" she asks quietly and watches as his features soften. His blue eyes study her carefully and in his silence she has her answer. "Here, move over," she gets up and taps his thigh.
She doesn't lie down, instead she takes up his spot and pulls his pillow onto her lap. She pats it when he looks hesitant.
"You won't be comfortable and I still don't think I could sleep."
"Lie down, just rest your eyes then."
He continues to eye her wearily but slowly he settles down in the bed, his whole body tense when he first set his head on the pillow. She can see it in the set of his shoulders, feel it radiating off him and she realizes, she's stiff herself. So she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, focusing on letting the tension drain from her body.
Her hand hovers over his head a moment before making the decision, but finally she gently lets her fingers run through his hair. She gives him one pass and when he doesn't object she starts a repetitive pattern; brushing the hair from his forehead, past his temple. Her finger traces the shell of his ear before she cards her fingers through the longer hair at his neck. When her nails scratch his scalp, she sees goosebumps appear along his arms but his body settles further, his shoulder dropping, a long breath slipping out.
And although his lids are heavy, he still fights sleep, eyes blinking.
"We'll keep the lamp on and I'm right here. Just try?" she bargains.
"Liam used to leave the light on for me when I was young," he whispers and she finally sees his dark lashes rest against the top of his cheek. She continues her passes through his hair as he falls silent and even when his breathing evens and she feels his body relax further into her, she never stops her motions. As much for him, as for her.
She closes her eyes and leans her head back, dropping her free hand to his shoulder. She matches the rise and fall of his breath to hers and lets it lull her late into the night.
Thanks for reading!
Mmmm... what can I ask this week... I know! Who do you call when you're feeling low like Emma?
See you next week for Chapter 7!