Despite their best efforts, none of their hopeful plans have materialized. Emma has yet to find the courage to open her envelope or ask her questions and Killian's promise of a private room disappeared with the fun they were having at the campground. The pleas from their new group of friends to stay just one more night had been too hard to resist and the result is, Emma's booking schedule has gone completely off the rails. The original extra night in Londonderry hadn't helped but they could have gotten back on schedule by skipping a stop, but between meeting Anna and Kristoff, two extra nights of camping in Westport, (including bunking with new travel mates, Will and Robin, both of whom were very nice men - yet not the ones she wanted to be sharing a room with), there's no salvaging the planned reservations anymore.
Which means, every night from now until the end is a gamble, and not one Emma is particularly thrilled about. While it was fun to throw some caution to the wind, she liked the security of knowing she had a bed. She can't imagine how Killian has done it for so many nights, weeks, hell, months at a time.
Which is probably why now, a little tired, a little sore from two lovely nights on the ground, she's a little more vocal about guaranteeing a comfortable place to sleep.
"How long do you think this is going to take? I really don't want to miss check in," Emma grumbles through breaths she is desperately trying to slow, though thanks to the challenging hike they're on, it's proving difficult to breathe at all.
"I would assume it will take as long as it needs to, darling." There was a sarcastic edge to his voice, causing Emma to stick out her tongue, so what if he was up ahead and unable to see her.
"It'll be easy, they said. It will be fun, they said," Emma mumbles, digging her walking stick into the rocky terrain, angry at the hike that was much more demanding than she had anticipated.
"We could be sipping beer and listening to music in Galway right now," Killian throws over his shoulder, he himself slipping on one of the many smooth and slippery stones. "Blasted rocks."
Emma snickers at his curse, happy to see he is having about as much fun as she is.
"You said and I quote, it'll just be a jaunt, Swan," Emma throws back in a very bad attempt at a British accent.
Killian stops and looks back, one eyebrow lifting lazily, mouth set in a line.
"I seem to recall you asking me if I was too scared to do this."
She stomps up to him and presses a finger into his chest.
"We're doing this because I teased you?"
She throws her hands up and pushes past him, stick digging into the ground, breath puffing out in loud pants.
"Slow down, Emma, you'll hurt yourself."
She holds up her middle finger behind her before cringing when she sees the tiny chapel way, way, way in the distance.
"Sorry," she mumbles but then adds, "couldn't Saint Patrick have pilgrimmed somewhere flatter?"
"Ah, but where would the challenge be in that?" a voice comes from her side and she looks over to see a man about her age, easily navigating the deteriorating path.
She gives him a half smile but picks up her pace, his ease a quiet competition. She sees a plateau coming up over the ridge and in her mind that means rest and a water break, she quickens her pace.
She takes a few more reckless steps before she manages to step on a rock that is a little too smooth, a little too loose and she's falling.
Her cry is half caught in her throat and there's a brief moment she thinks of how badly it's going to hurt when she hits the ground, but two strong arms wrap around her middle, saving her from injury.
"Whoa, I got you."
She blinks up, her adrenaline pumping, expecting to see Killian but finding the stranger instead. He settled her on her feet but keeps his hands on her hips.
"Ok?" he asks and she nods dumbly, eyes already searching for Killian, and he's there, right behind. But to her surprise he looks more upset than before, his walking stick on the ground, hand clenched in a fist.
"Um, yeah, thanks," Emma mumbles finally stepping away, glancing to her rescuer briefly before back to Killian.
"No problem, always happy to lend a hand. It's not a race. See you at the top!"
The stranger gives her a wink and he's on his way again. Before long, he's barely a dot on the horizon and completely out of earshot.
Emma finally gives a nervous laugh and looks to Killian.
"I guess I could have just tucked and rolled. Faster way to the bottom."
Her joke falls flat, she barely gets a reaction from him, save for the clenching in his jaw.
"Mmm," he mumbles, reaching down for his stick and takes a few slow steps past her.
"Hey, wait, that's it?" she asks, catching up, mind you, keeping her eyes downcast to take surer steps.
"What do you want me to say? Clearly I'm useless."
She pulls up short at his statement and watches him continue to climb, head down.
"What in the world does that mean?" she calls out, starting out again. When he doesn't answer and they finally reach some flatter ground, she reaches out for his arm but he pulls it away roughly.
"Killian. Stop."
She sees the tight set of his shoulders when he finally stops, and she watches him breathe in deep shuddering breaths.
She has no idea what's going on, so the question rolls quickly off her tongue.
"Killian, what the hell is going on?"
The jaw clench again.
She takes a calming breath and walks around to face him. She opens her mouth to speak, but pauses when two older women slowly walk by. She nods to them both and takes a step closer to her now visibly upset hiker.
"Hey, are you going to tell me what's going on? Killian, look at me."
She lays her hand on his wrist and she feels him flinch but at least he doesn't move away.
"Look, I'm sorry I was complaining. I just really want this day to be about finding a comfortable bed, preferably with you in it and no one else around."
"You think that's what this is about?" he suddenly asks, surprising them both with the tone of his voice. She frowns, completely at a loss.
"Well, I honestly have no idea then."
She plants her hands on her hips and waits from him to fill her in. When he doesn't speak right away, she looks out at the vista below. It's beautiful, green rolling hills, deep blue waters of Clew Bay and dozens of tiny islands dotting the area. She finally begins to see what the fuss this hike is about but - it's nothing without Killian to enjoy it with and a glance confirms he's not seeing the same thing she is. He's looking down at his brace and seeming as looking as helpless as she's ever seen him.
"Killian, please," she tries again, gentler this time and he finally looks up, looks into her eyes.
"You've never asked me about my hand."
She almost rocks back on her heels at the statement, so startled by it, and while true, it's definitely not what she thought the problem was.
"I, um, I'm sorry?" she finally settles on, her statement coming out as a question.
He huffs out a laugh in disbelief.
"You're sorry? No, I'm the one the couldn't reach out for you. This useless thing probably would have made matters worse."
He lifts his brace that this holding his hooked prosthetic, before dropping it in disgust.
"Hey, wait a second, stop."
She reaches out for him, grasping him above the brace and not letting him pull away this time. She holds on tightly but letting him look away, letting the emotions run across his face. First anger, then frustration, and finally resignation before he turns back to her and closes his eyes.
"Killian, I'm sorry I never asked. When we first met, it seemed rude to ask, I didn't know how to approach it and then as we got to know each other, I just stopped thinking about it. It's just another part of you. Really, I'm sorry-"
"Please don't," he whispers but she pushes on.
"No. It's a part of you and it's insensitive of me to not face and for that I'm sorry, but don't for a second think yourself useless. What happened just now, that was all me. I was stomping along, way ahead and that guy just happened to be there. Be mad that I'm an insensitive jerk but not that you couldn't swoop in like Superman."
Finally, thankfully, she sees a small ray of hope. A smile, albeit very small. The corner of his mouth pulls up a little and she mirrors it, feeling a little better.
"You're not a jerk," he finally mumbles and focuses on her, eyes a little lighter, shoulders dropping. "You're okay? You didn't twist your ankle or anything?" he asks, hand reaching up to cup her cheek. She turns her head and presses a kiss to his palm.
"I'm fine. I promise. Why don't we sit down, eat some of our snacks and then walk back? I don't want to see the top anyway."
She takes his hand and pulls him towards some larger rocks, and finds a place to sit. He follows without protest but remains quiet. She sits crossed legged, facing him and pulls his arm with the brace into her lap.
"Will you tell me? Do you want to tell me?" she asks shyly, fingers hesitant for the first time on his arm, drawing a line down his arm to where skin meets his brace.
He looks out towards the view below, eyes taking in the same beautiful landscape as she had but she's not sure he's really seeing it, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"It's actually a stupid story."
"Killian," she admonishes him but he shrugs.
"It is. After my brother died, I - I didn't really know how to cope. I was reckless. I went out a lot, I drank, I picked fights. There is something to be said for getting punched in the face that makes you feel alive for a split second."
She tries to keep her face impassive, she knows he doesn't want her pity, and really it's not pity. She just knows what it's like to be alone, and wishes she could have saved him from the sadness and pain she hears in his voice.
"One night, I picked a fight with the wrong guy. Or guys, I guess. They never really figured it out and I honestly didn't care at the time. I just woke up in a hospital, with a concussion, a lot of broken bones, one less hand, and a doctor telling me I was lucky to still be alive."
"Oh, Killian," her words slip out before she can stop herself but he doesn't seem to mind. She hurts for him, for who he was and all that he lost.
He shrugs like it's not some life changing event, and she knows he doesn't want her to make it a big deal but her reaction is beyond what she can reign in. She lifts up to her knees and wraps him in a tight hug.
She's happy to feel his arms hold her just as tight.
When she sits back down, she takes his arm again, drawing gentle patterns on his arm, never taking her eyes away from his face.
"Did you start travelling after that?" she asks, curious.
He nods slowly.
"Obviously my clothes had been cut off, or too bloodied up to keep but somehow, someone, I don't know if it was a doctor or a nurse found the crumpled paper in my pocket. It was the menu Liam had written our travel plans on and they left it beside my bed. It was the only thing salvaged and it served to remind me how fucking disappointed Liam would have been seeing me there. I bought my first plane ticket as soon as I was well enough to go."
"And here you are."
"Here I am," he agrees. "Whiny American blondes and all," he adds and her eyes widen.
And now he does laugh, full-bellied, head thrown back and all Emma can do is wrap him up in a hug again, arms tight around his neck, nearly knocking them off their rock but Killian manages to keep them balanced, holding her just as close.
She can't imagine being anywhere can't imagine being with anyone else. More words threatening to spill out.
Something important on the tip of her tongue. Something a lot like love.
xo
They scribble a note and leave it on the windshield of Anna and Kristoff's winnebago, both eager to get out of the parking lot and towards some privacy. Killian doesn't protest when Emma gets behind the wheel, the earlier events still weighing on his conscience. Emma doesn't mind, putting the music on low and concentrating on the road, her own thoughts bouncing around in her mind.
She's grateful to be back on flatter terrain. The roads were definitely still more narrow than back in Storybrooke but besides that, it was an easy drive past small homesteads and fields, the sky overcast but free of rain. Silence filling the car for most of the ride, but Killian still helped her through exits and roundabouts, giving her thigh a squeeze after each grateful smile before looking back out the window.
It's only when she catches him working the skin above his brace that she thinks to speak up again, and even then she hesitates, mouth opening and closing before silently reprimanding herself and and finally pushing the words out.
"I really am sorry for not asking you about your injury. I don't want you to think I would just ignore something like that. Something that is a part of you."
His hand pauses and he looks over.
"No, of course not, love. Think nothing of it."
But she shakes her head.
"It's just that I can be a coward, about a lot of things but I really don't want to be a coward with you," she explains, hands once again tight on the wheel. His hand brushes over her knuckles and she loosens her hold a little.
"You are far from a coward, Emma."
"Yeah, say that to the envelope sitting at the bottom of my bag and the couple who gave it to me still waiting for some news."
"Emma," he starts but she holds up her hand.
"Look at what you've done. You've travelled the world -"
"Running away from my problems."
She shakes her head.
"You're on the trip you and your brother always planned on doing."
"Emma, it took me years to make this trip and I honestly don't know if i ever would have made it past Derry if I hadn't had you at my side."
"Derry was my fault," she whispers and he physically turns in his seat, face incredulous.
"Excuse me? Please enlighten me."
"Well, I mean, think of if you had never met me-"
"No."
"Killian, let me finish," she says and it's without malice. It's actually said with a bit of a laugh at his expression, his absolute refusal to play her game.
"Absolutely not. I know what you are going to try and say and it's rubbish. I refuse to even let you say the words. And it's an impossibility anyway, how could I ever picture a world you aren't in now that you're in mine?"
What is she supposed to say to that?
"Good," he finally says after a bout of silence. "Take the next left," he adds when their last turn appears.
She carefully takes the next turn and it's just a few more miles before they pull into the lot of a large, bright yellow building and she kills the motor. His hand closes over hers.
"Emma, I think you are the best thing that could have ever happened to me on this trip. You gave me the courage to face, well, anything, and when you're ready to face your own ghosts, I'll be right here. That could be right now or tomorrow or whenever."
She searches his face for the lie.
"I'm really a mess," she mumbles but he simply shakes his head and pulls her hand to his lips.
"Who isn't?"
She thinks a little and shrugs, finally offering a true smile.
"There she is. Now let's go see if they indeed kept our reservation for the elusive private room."
And with that, and his arched eyebrow, she can't get to the front desk fast enough.
xo
The place turns out to be more like a bed and breakfast. The owners are kind and quick to offer homemade snacks from the kitchen while they explain the ins and out of their stay: when breakfast is served in the morning, the twenty-four hour shuttle service that's available to get to restaurants and bars, and a little bit about the small town.
They must give the same description dozens of times a week but they manage to sound as enthusiastic and friendly as people who are just opening their doors for the first time.
"And how long have you been operating this place?" Emma asks as one of the owners slides the key into their door.
"Oh, well, Matthew, our son, is twenty-one, so it'll be twenty-two years this fall. Even our boys help out. You'll see them in the morning," she explains and pushes the door open, leading them in. "And here we are."
The light to the room flickers on, bathing it in a warm yellow light, revealing the largest room they've stayed in to date. Although, most striking is instead of the standard four bunk beds, the room holds one set in the corner but a large queen bed takes up most of the space right in the middle.
Emma nearly groans at the sight of it.
She manages to wait until the owner leaves but as soon as she gently closes the door behind her, Emma's bag is unceremoniously dropped and she launches herself into the big bed.
"Oh, I feel like a queen," she exclaims, arms and legs thrown out wide, covering as much of the bed as she can. "I can barely believe it. I almost forgot what it feels like."
Killian is more patient, hanging his coat, placing both their bags on chairs. He leans back against the door, seeming content to watch her.
"What are you doing? Come here, experience this," Emma asks, turning to her side and patting the bed.
He looks at the spot and then looks at her and suddenly the air in the room seems heavier. Like she's only realized just now that they are really alone, no one to bother them, nowhere to go, just all this time available to them, and she's not sure if she feels like she's drowning in the weight of the expectation of it all or ready to swim right across to him.
"Should I get us some food first?"
"Or I can shower first?"
Their questions come at the same time and she laughs, falling to her back and staring up at the ceiling. She counts the wood beams running across until they are blocked out by Killian leaning over her.
"Hi," she whispers.
He shakes his head and leans in to leave her with a parting kiss.
"You shower. I'll go find some food."
She nods and watches him leave. It's only when she hears the door click and his footsteps fading away that she brings the pillow over her face and groans.
After a beat, she drops the pillow and looks towards the shower.
"Shower it is."
xo
She ends up taking her time in the shower. It loosens her sore muscles and lessens her worries, although it doesn't do anything to diminish the realization that she has Killian all to herself. That they are finally alone and that so much has been leading to this.
He had been right the other night in the shower. Their tryst had done nothing but make her even more aware of how badly she wanted him. And she could tell every time she caught his eye he felt the same. She feels her belly tighten with a desire, she's never felt before and she hurries to get out of the shower, knowing exactly what she wants and for once she's going to take it.
She wraps herself in a towel and quickly runs one through her hair, not caring if she gets the floor wet. She tosses the extra towel in the sink and thinks if she hurries she can be waiting for him when get back.
But when she steps out, she nearly runs into Killian, who is just stepping back into the room with a plate teeming with food.
"I, uh, hope you're hungry," he offers, eyes roving over her form.
She's pretty sure he's watching the water drip down her neck, disappearing between the valley of her breasts, just beyond the towel.
"Oh yeah, I could definitely eat… or..."
She's not looking at the food at all.
His eyes look up but he seems at a loss for words. She feels a small thrill at the way he swallows hard.
"I think…" she starts and takes the plate from him and puts it down on the table and crowds into his space. His back hits the wall, and she feels his quick exhale against her skin.
Her nipples tighten under the towel.
"I'm quite filthy, love."
She squeezes her thighs together.
"I don't care."
"But you're so clean."
He draws a fingers across her collarbone and she closes her eyes at the touch. She's so keyed up, he may as well be drawing that same finger between her legs.
She opens her eyes and fixes him with a stare.
"I'll shower again later, I'll even keep you company."
He laughs but still hesitates, not agreeing but not yet moving anymore than that one frustrating finger, back and forth, dipping a little lower to run over the top of her breasts.
"You smell fucking good enough to eat."
"So have a taste."
His eyes darken and his hand pauses, so she takes matters into her own hands, pulling the towel apart and letting it drop to the floor.
"Christ," he mumbles, "you're so fucking beautiful." And finally, his hand cups her naked hip, pulling her tight against him. She hiccups out a small cry when she braces her hands against his chest. His lips are a breath from hers when she pulls back.
"Wait. You have way too many clothes on."
She gives herself a bit of room and helps him with his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind her before hesitating over his brace.
He almost always already has it off before climbing into bed, or just isn't wearing it but this is the first time where she can really reach out and touch.
"Can I?" she asks, fingers drifting to the strap over his shoulder.
He nods and this time she doesn't hesitate to help it over his shoulder blade, loosening the hold it has. He helps her, getting one arm out and showing her how he pulls off the brace, all the while, eyes hesitantly flicking up to hers.
When it's off, and she smiles, she expects him to place it somewhere on a table but when she bites her lip, it's dropped to the floor and he's on her before she can say anything else. His hand cups her breast, and his head is just descending when there's a knock at the door.
"Don't you dare stop," she whispers through clenched teeth.
His eyes light up and he spins her back against the door with a quiet thud and his mouth finally closes over her nipple. Her head falls back, eyes closing.
"Emma? You guys coming to dinner?"
Anna. Emma could kill her. She could actually commit murder right then and there.
"No. Nope."
He brings his teeth into the mix and her eyes nearly roll back into her head.
"You sure?"
"Anna, I really like and appreciate you but if you could go away and not come back until morning or next year, that would be great."
There's a cackle and something that sounds like, a finally!
"Roger that."
And abruptly she's being picked up and carried to the bed. She doesn't care who hears the surprised cry because the way Killian is looking at her, the whole world could be outside her door and she wouldn't care. He drops her without warning in the middle of the mattress and she lets out a breathless laugh, falling back to her elbows.
He takes her in from the end of the bed, hand on his top button, eyes roving.
"Killian."
"Emma."
"Get on with it."
"I mean I could still go shower."
She scrambles up to her knees, one hand closing over his, the other over the outline of him, pressing hard against her hand. Her teeth graze over his neck as he swallows, before her tongue darts out to taste.
"Now, Killian."
She pulls back and her hand gives him another pass. He groans low in his throat.
"As the lady wishes."
He captures her hands and urges her back to the bed. She lays back and watches him deftly pop his button, and finally rid himself of his pants and underwear. She holds her breath as he crawls over her, legs falling open to cradle him between her thighs.
His fingers pinch and tease and he watches her face for a reaction and she can't help the whine that escapes, her eyes closing at the sensation.
She arches her neck when he switches sides and mouth drops low, running up the column of her throat, finding the edge of her lobe before biting down.
"I could listen to the sounds you make all night," he whispers, his voice rough, his hips finally lowering another inch. She feels him brush against her and she gasps.
"All night? Is that a promise?."
He buries his face in her neck and slides against her again, slow and dirty.
Her thighs tighten against his hips but somehow, she remembers.
"Condom, condom is on the nightstand."
He teases her one more time before pulling back with dark eyes. She can't help but pull him down for a kiss before letting him go to grab the foil packet.
She watches him with her heart beating frantically in her chest, an overwhelming feeling taking hold, a want so great her words catch in her throat, only a soft please slipping out.
"I'm right here, we're right here, oh God," he echoes as he finally slips inside, pushing deep and swallowing her gasp.
It's never been like this, she thinks.
"It's never," she finally whispers out loud, hand cupping his cheek, nails scratching through his scruff before pulling his lips to hers once again.
"Oh love, I know."
She tightens her legs and pulls him deeper, closing her eyes against the sensations. It's so much more than she could have imagined. He fills her with every stroke, bringing her closer each time, whispering how good she feels, how tight, how wet.
Her eyes open when his hand trails down her body, intent on touching where they are joined, and she's already so close, so overwhelmed it doesn't take much.
"It's okay, Emma, give this one to me."
And she nods, wanting so badly to fall.
Another pass of his fingers and she does, crying out as the orgasm still manages to catch her by surprise, the pleasure so much more intense than she had imagined.
His head falls to her neck, his groan causing goosebumps to spread across her skin as he takes what he needs, following soon after, too caught up in the feel of her.
She pulls his full weight onto her, legs wrapping around him as they both catch their breath, bodies slick with sweat, hearts still pounding.
She runs her fingers through his hair, content to just have him there.
Her lips find his ear and she whispers, "That was… wow.."
He laughs and then groans, slowly pulling it out, but stopping to look down at her.
"What?" she asks, a little shy and the intense look.
"Nothing. I'm just committing this moment to memory."
She's surprised to feel her cheeks heat up.
He presses a kiss to her forehead.
"Come on, I need that shower. Your offer to join still stands?"
And who is she to deny him.
"I did say I would, didn't I?" she asks and plucks a grape from the plate before being tugged away into the bathroom. Her laugh following after her.