chapter seven ~ old heat of a raging fire
There was no time for Killian to react; not to charge in counterattack, to retreat, to duck or dodge - he barely had time to think that the flash of silver he had seen in Gold's hand meant nothing good for him, and it was already too late. Though he had realized he was being followed and turned to face his pursuer in a relatively open space before they could attack unseen, it had not been his Crocodile that he expected. Knowing Gold's vengeful nature as he did, Killian had believed (a horrible miscalculation, it would seem) that the Dark One would be at least immediately consumed with plotting his former pupil's demise for what she had done to his clearly much beloved maid. When he'd turned to face the person creeping along behind him, he had fully expected Cora - or possibly Regina - who were both much more likely to simply gloat and soliloquize before actually getting down to business, giving him time to figure out his defense, even if they welded magic and he did not.
His sworn enemy however offered no such luxury, striking out as soon as he had spoken, with a swift and vicious accuracy that nearly felled Killian in one disastrous motion. It would seem that Gold had not relied most immediately on his powers, but had struck first with a quite human - and deadly effective - tool. The glint of silver Killian had spotted too late was from a small handgun, its size so compact and discreet that it had barely been visible in Gold's grasp until he raised it to fire.
The shot struck home, and the fire that spread, not just from the spot in his shoulder where the bullet hit, but through his veins brought the further sickening realization. The bullet was silver as well, already poisoning and draining even as the fact of it reached his brain with startling clarity. The imp had never fought him fair, and it should really no longer be a shock.
"Coward!" Killian growled, hand immediately going to his shoulder in an attempt to focus him on staying upright in the face of his nemesis and staunching the blood he can already feel welling to the entry site. He took a step forward, wishing in the moment he still carried the cutlass safely tucked away aboard his ship upon his person. He needed something to brandish as the old crocodile stalked closer, knowing he had injured his prey, even as Killian felt himself weakening.
Even more frightening, of course, was the fact that he would soon be forced to shift into his wolf form. Though normally being a large, powerful wild animal with teeth and claws at his disposal to fight back would be comforting, he felt vulnerable as well having his secret, other side exposed to Rumplestiltskin against his will. Not to mention, he also lost his human thought process and strategy against an all-too-cunning foe once he transformed. Yet, if he lost much more blood, or the Dark One landed another strike, it would become inevitable. The werewolf body reverted back to its elemental form to heal itself, to protect so to speak, and though he could grit his teeth and stall it for a time, eventually it would happen anyway, and resisting would only make the shift more painful.
Stumbling to his knees, Killian tried to brace his hands on the rough forest floor to push himself back up. Gold was slowly moving ever closer, and he couldn't bear to face the fiendish villain bowed and shaking as he was - but it was to no avail. He could feel his tendons stretching and lengthening, his face tingling and the skin pulling taut, the pressure in his head excruciating as it literally began to elongate and change shape. His fingers were curling into claws in the dirt even as he tried to ball them together in fists, as if the whole metamorphosis could be halted by sheer force of will, despite what he knew.
A low, warning growl rumbled in his throat, reverberating through the small clearing. Remarkably, Gold did halt for a moment, just out of reach, studying him with a maniacal gleam in his beady eyes.
"Fascinating," he murmured, looking strangely engrossed in the process before him, giving a disturbing impression to something that normally felt as natural and simple as breathing to Killian. "Don't worry," he cackled in that unnerving high-pitched voice which alerted Killian to the fact even before he could shake his head to look up with clear vision at the facade of unassuming pawnbroker vanishing to once more reveal the demon who had maimed him permanently and taken his love's very life. "I'll wait, mutt, until we can look at each other wearing our true faces."
Unable to hold off any longer, Killian curled into himself slightly, and he knew the shift was taking hold. The itchy, tingling sensation of hair sprouting thickly all over his body, his teeth growing and sharpening in what was rapidly becoming a snout, and then at last the cracking, bending, and rearranging that for a second nearly debilitated him, before he stood crouched in the dirt and dry leaves, a large, snarling black wolf.
Knowing he had not a moment to waste before the Dark One's morbid curiosity faded and he attacked again, Killian lunged for the monster, teeth flashing and snapping wildly. But he never made it. A force caught him in mid-air and threw him back to the ground with stunning force. The same power held him there, pinned to the ground, immobilized and crushing him with ever-increasing pressure, until the pressing of the wounded shoulder into the hard-packed forest floor squeezed a yelp of pain from him.
Looking up dizzily, he saw Rumplestiltskin standing over him, hand outstretched and glowing with an eerie red light. He was holding him down with magic, and even if the wound he had already dealt could heal with the traces of silver still in his blood where the bullet went through, he saw that the Dark One simply wouldn't take the chance of actually fighting him fairly. The incapacitation he was suffering was more than enough, but Killian sensed there was more yet to come.
Leaning over him now, Gold tossed the gun aside to pull out a gleaming sharp blade that he brandished before Killian's eyes - now those of a wolf - but still capable of registering that this too was silver and capable of wringing all too much pain from him before the Dark One actually took his life. He tried once more to snap at the hand so close to his snout, but the silver and the loss of blood had already weakened him, making it a rather pitiful gesture, and the snarl he emitted proved to be the only gesture of any real threat he could muster.
"Now, now, let's have none of that," Gold tsked, affecting the tone of a disappointed elder as he crouched over Killian, a tremor running through the wolf that he could not hold in. Gold waved his hand once more, and Killian felt his jaw latch closed. He couldn't snap or bite - his last defense - as the silver blade was held aloft once more; the magic binding his mouth as securely as if it had been a muzzle lashed with rope. He thrashed his head back and forth in a near panic at having nothing he could do against the coming onslaught.
"You really are a pathetic beast, aren't you?" Gold mocked. Running the knife along the tufts of coarse fur, teasing the way Killian's animal instincts caused him to shiver, sensing the danger and unable to curb the natural reaction.
Slowly, the Dark One trailed the sinister weapon down a flank, and ever so seamlessly increased the pressure until he was slicing a trail of pain through fur, skin, and muscle, laying open Killian's leg. When he reached the paw that rested somewhat stunted and immobile on the ground, Gold dug in deeper still, forcing an involuntary whimper and carving a fiery shot of agony across what would be his human wrist to the hand which had been useless to Killian since their last fight centuries ago.
Weaker and weaker with each cut of the blade, Killian found himself rendered practically motionless and had all he could do not to whine helplessly at each new assault, not willing to give Rumplestiltskin the satisfaction of knowing how badly he'd hurt him. At last, his enemy hissed, practically in his large, furry ear, making sure he couldn't miss the hideous vow. "Now that I have you where I want you - at my mercy, as you should be - nothing stops me from cutting out your heart and crushing it, ending your miserable existence at last, as I should have all those years ago."
His next swipe of the knife was the deepest and worst of all, and Killian only a had a moment to register what he thought was an angry, desperate shout from across the clearing, before his vision went murky, swirling away from his plight, and for a moment, awareness altogether.
They had barely ventured five minutes into the passage from behind Regina's fireplace, when Emma was arrested by such a staggering sense of panic and fear that she couldn't ignore it. Fumbling to a stop in the dark tunnel between Graham and her father, David walked into her at the abrupt halt and her flashlight fell from nerveless fingers and rolled away across the stone floor of the space. Clutching at her chest, Emma gaped breathlessly for a moment, not sure what was going on, while he dad quickly recovered himself and reach out firm, solid arms to steady her.
"Emma? What is it? What's wrong?" Graham pressed worriedly, bending as well in trying to meet her eyes.
She shook her head helplessly, clutching David's forearm to pull herself upright and trying to once more catch her breath. "I'm not sure," she managed, "but some - something isn't right."
"Do we need to go back?" her boss queried, his brow furrowed in concern and moving to gather up her dropped light. "Can you make it back?"
Emma shook her head again, more vigorously as she tried to make herself clear. "No, it isn't with us...at least...I don't think so."
Shakily, she stood up straight from leaning on David and tried to bring herself back under control. The immediate impact had dulled some, but she still felt a persistent ache in her chest; some pounding warning that things were not as they should be. Puzzling for a moment, Emma tried to consider. Had she heard or seen some sign that Regina or her mother were aware of their movements? Could they be walking into a trap? It didn't seem likely. Nothing appeared to be amiss around them, and David and Graham still stood right beside her. There wasn't anything she would have seen or heard in this close a space that they wouldn't have noticed as well.
No, the danger wasn't to them. Yet, she couldn't ignore the niggling worry that still tingled under the surface. As if to reaffirm, when she shook her head to clear the premonition and press on, another lancing pain shot through her chest.
She looked first to Graham, who handed her back her flashlight, and - though still appearing worried for her - didn't press her but merely turned back to gather his things again, ready to move forward if they were.
When she glanced to David however, she sensed some sort of dawning understanding in the look he gave her. There was a soft and almost sadly knowing expression within his eyes as they searched hers. "Is it in your chest?" he asked gently, as if not wanting to spook her, but to help her come to some realization on her own that he had already reached himself. "As if something is making your heart clench?"
Cold dread gripped Emma hard, sending a chill through her as she suddenly knew just what was causing her discomfort. Her mind rebelled at the possibility after so little time knowing him, yet the moment the idea hit her, Emma knew the fear was true and her anxiety only increased. He was the one in trouble...Killian needed her. "It's Killian," she barely whispered, wide eyes locking on her father's as he nodded in indication that he had come to the same conclusion.
Though now feeling almost harried, in a rush to go to him as quickly as possible (and again marvelling at how intense their connection was, how desperate the need to assure his safety) Emma tilted her head curiously, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet in her haste to be off but still needing to know, half wanting and half afraid to ask how her father had figured out what was going on inside her. "How did you know?"
Stepping closer, sensing it would be better accepted in her current state - his daughter might even welcome the support - David wrapped Emma into a loose hug, cradling the back of her head in his large, paternal hand. But even he could see her almost vibrating with tension and that she wasn't going to be able to stay still much longer. He gave her an encouraging smile as they stepped apart again. "I'll tell you the whole story sometime, okay? But for now, let's just say I've felt what you're describing firsthand… when Snow was in danger. We weren't even in the same place, but I knew she had been hurt all the same. I could feel her pain in my own body."
Emma swallowed hard, nodding her comprehension of his words, though her mind was floundering at the obvious meaning. "So, does that mean we're… I mean...do you think Killian and I are…" She couldn't quite say 'True Loves' in serious context, not just because she had really just met Killian, but also because up until coming back to Storybrooke with Henry, she wouldn't have even believed such a thing existed.
David looked her right in the eye, not deflecting or putting her off, but being completely honest. "I couldn't say. That's something the two of you will have to figure out for yourselves. I do, however, know what you're feeling. Don't worry about following us right now. I can help Graham. It's all under control."
Emma gave him a relieved, lopsided smile back, her heart rate already picking up again, readying herself to take off. "Are you sure?" she double-checked.
David nodded with certainty. "Absolutely. Right, Sheriff?"
Graham agreed easily, equally certain that they would be fine and not wanting Emma to be held back from what she needed to anymore than her dad.
"Thanks guys, really," Emma offered sincerely. She was already turning to go and edging back the way they had come "I hate to ditch you like this, but...I have to go. Something's wrong, and - crazy as it sounds - I need to find Killian."
"Understood," her dad assured simply. "Now go."
Emma didn't waste any time after that, moving as quickly as she possibly could through the darkened passageway they'd already traveled. She stepped out into the mayor's office once more and nearly jogged from town hall. The anxious feeling within her only continued to crest though, and once she was out in the open air she took off in a full-out run toward the trees, knowing that whatever was happening, her man was in the forest, and he needed her.
Killian wasn't sure how much longer he could withstand Gold's torment, caught in his animal form, unable to shift back or fight him, immobilized from the silver now well into his system, he had suffered several deep cuts and lost a fair amount of blood. Clearly the Dark One didn't relish putting him out of his misery quickly - even if he did want him dead in the long run.
With an evil chuckle, Gold at last lifted his implement of torture, laying the knife aside, the glimmer of triumph and sadistic glee on his face almost as frightening as what Killian knew was coming. "You made this almost too easy, pirate. Soon, you'll be nothing but a distasteful memory, no one will be any the wiser as to what happened, and really, would will even miss you?"
Biting back the howl of agony that rose up in his bleeding, slashed chest, Killian took in every word, though he couldn't answer, and panted harshly, fighting just to stay conscious as Gold prodded devilishly at the incision he had made. The feeling of an evil hand in his chest, rummaging with spiking fingers of pain to find and extract an actual organ was a sensation so strange and unnerving it was hard to convince himself he hadn't already drifted off in some unconscious hallucination. Shaking his head in mock sympathy, Gold's next words sent a whole different kind of fire through the trapped wolf's veins. Killian snarled uselessly, hating the villain for his words almost as much as for the torment he was inflicting. "Well, no one but poor Deputy Swan, that is. She might miss you a bit, but soon you'll just be one more in the long line of those who have left and disappointed her. A perfect state to have her in really, when we need her weakened and distancing herself from others who can help her - putting her walls back up…"
A wrenching jerk alerted Killian that the imp had at last found what he sought, the pressure on his organ blindingly intense as Gold grasped it, squeezing for good measure, doing his task the messy and old-fashioned way, as it caused Killian the most pain and fear, and though his magic could have seen his enemy long dead by then. Killian couldn't help the pitiable low whine that escaped him at the fresh agony, much as he wanted to face his end in stoic silence, determined not to show the Dark One his defeat. He was suffering maddeningly by that point, certain he was about to be snuffed from the world of the living.
Gold's self-satisfaction however, faltered when he attempted to remove the heart and crush it before Killian's eyes. Tugging in both a debilitating and nauseating fashion, the organ simply wouldn't leave his chest cavity. Gulping against the heaving sensation, Killian barely staved off the blackness to at least face his final moments head-on.
Then he heard her voice - its defiant beauty ringing out like a beacon on the crisp air through the fading grey of his consciousness. "Hey! Wanna bet?!" she challenged, bursting into the clearing ready for a fight.
Gold whipped around, startled at the interruption, but only slowly standing from his crouch, a terrifyingly eerie calm about him, even caught in the act. "Actually, Miss Swan, I would take that bet. How are you going to stop me?" As if to display how untroubled he was by her interruption, he turned back to Killian, once more plunging his hand into his chest, drawing a startled and pained yelp from his captive once more.
Emma acted without thinking; sheer adrenaline, fear, and protectiveness fueling her. She couldn't let this nutjob gut the man she cared for right in front of her. Desperate to reach Killian in time, and yet knowing she physically couldn't, pure instinct caused her to fling her hands out toward Gold, open and outstretched, and unbelievably - just as had happened with Cora - a blinding bright white light filled her palms with warmth before shooting out from her and blowing Gold back from Killian.
The Dark One himself was taken aback, pushed head over heels to land sprawled and dazed on the ground several feet from his victim. Acting quickly before he regained his footing or his wits, Emma rushed to her wolf's side, one hand gently easing into the hair on his ruff, but the other still raised, warily braced for Gold to strike back.
"I might have known," Gold spat, sure enough only moments later climbing back to his feet and eyeing Emma with a narrowed, calculating expression. "Product of True Love and all… I figured as much in theory, but you showed no signs…" He seemed to be racing through the turn of events in his mind before his gaze snapped back to Emma, and Killian behind her, again. Sneering in warning, his true cowardice showed through despite his threatening words when he took a step back in retreat rather than pressing his advantage. "You may have taken me by surprised this time," he hissed as he backed further away, clearly uncertain of just how powerful Emma was and unwilling to find out how she would fare against him, "but this isn't over, Savior." He offered that last with a mocking tone given to Emma's title. And then, before she could even respond, he had vanished in a puff of his trademark red smoke.
Emma waited a moment, pulled tight as a bowstring, fully expecting him to return and attack unawares. Nothing of the sort happened though; she and Killian were alone now beneath the trees. A low, pleading sort of whine left the throat of the wolf before her, and as she turned anxiously to help him, and scared by the various cuts and the glistening of wet blood against his black fur, her attention was immediately fully focused on Killian.
As if he could sense the shift in her mind, the large canine lying in pain at her side attempted some sort of greeting, his tail thumping listlessly against the leaves and dirt of the forest floor. There was a sort of knowing, a human recognition in those still stunning blue eyes, Emma noticed with affection. Even in an animal face, she could see through them how glad he was to see her, and also just how much he was hurting. The whimpers, low and barely escaping through his still magically-shut muzzle were like little strikes to her heart, and Emma reached out, not sure what was proper or right, but needing to ease him however she could, running her fingers over his silky, dark head lovingly and scratching behind his pointed ears. "Oh, Killian," Emma murmured, still worried by the lethargic response. "I'm sorry, but you're going to be okay, alright?"
Again the soulful, sad-eyed look was levied at her and her stomach clenched at just how many cuts and tears there were along his hide. Knowing that her father and Graham were likely to drop everything and come running - even though what they were doing was important and pressing to do before Regina showed herself or caught them at it - Emma fumbled for her cell with shaking fingers and dialed the only other person she could think of who might know what to do.
When Ruby's voice answered on the other end of the line, Emma was so overcome with relief that she could hardly put it into words. Quickly explaining where she was and what had happened to Killian as briefly as possible, Emma hoped Ruby would know what she could do. Valiantly she tried to ignore the emotional quaver in her voice, and thankfully Ruby seemed to do the same when she responded.
"Okay, Emma, look he's going to be fine," her friend promised, keeping her voice steady and in command, strengthening Emma's own shaken nerves perfectly. "Gold's used silver against him, and that's what is making the effects so severe. He'll be able to heal, and relatively quick at that, since he's in wolf form. If you can just get him someplace safe and make sure nothing else silver gets anywhere near him, he only needs a little time until the symptoms wear off, okay?"
Emma nodded, then echoed "okay" back to Ruby sheepishly upon realizing that the other woman couldn't hear her over phone wires unless she spoke up.
"Emma!" Ruby prompted, her voice a bit sharper as she called Emma back from worried reverie. "He's going to be alright. I promise. As long as he can rest and you stay with him until his body's reserves can replenish themselves. Can you do that?"
"Of course," Emma replied in a voice she hoped sounded a lot more certain than she felt inside.
"Good, I'll let you go then. Keep me posted, alright? I'll let Graham and your parents know where you are and what's happening as well."
"Thanks, Ruby," Emma replied, hanging up as her friend bid her farewell.
Looking back down at Killian lying before her, she found it hard to believe there wasn't more she could be doing for him, but she was no veterinarian, and Ruby was a wolf herself, she would know what Killian needed better than Emma in this case. Stroking a tender finger down the furry snout lying against her knee, Emma whispered, "Hang in there, Jones. We're going to take care of you, and you'll be just fine. You trust me, right?"
In a response that could have almost made her weep for joy, his long pink tongue slipped out and gently lapped at her fingers sweetly, as if wordlessly confirming that he had understood her words and was indeed confirming his belief in her. Whatever had been holding his mouth closed unnaturally seemed to have been loosed, and he could at least move his jaw normally again. She took it for a good sign and chuckled lightly at the affectionate gesture.
"Thanks," she said wryly after the impromptu tongue bathing, even as she was already looking for some way to transport the injured wolf. She knew he had been headed to check out Gold's cabin, and from what she remembered of the structure's location, they were nearly there. It wasn't ideal certainly, considering who had put Killian into this state. But, in all honesty, one place was really just as safe as another when it came to Gold. With his power, he could appear anywhere to come after them when it suited his whims. What was more important was getting Killian into some shelter for the night so he could heal.
"Okay, buddy, here goes nothing," Emma offered, standing to remove her leather jacket and spreading it out on the ground, patting it in some mix between cajoling a pet and playfully wheedling with a reluctant friend. "Can you scoot just a little onto this jacket and maybe I can pull you like a makeshift sled?" She really wasn't sure if he understood her words, or if that impression was only in her mind, and she knew he couldn't answer her. However, she was surprised when he shook his head, almost as if saying 'no' with an indignant 'whuf' of air to accentuate the gesture.
Then slowly, painstakingly, he pulled himself to sitting and then finally standing shakily on all fours. Emma hurried to his side, wide-eyed and trying not to let the fact that she too was trembling all over show. Standing near enough for him to lean against her shins - which he did with nearly every step - they began to hobble forward out of the clearing and along the short path left to the cabin.
His size even in wolf form had Killian standing nearly even with her hip. Black as coal in coat, he was truly a breathtakingly beautiful animal, even limping with his head hung low as it was and with the tremors she could feel coursing through him.
Their progress was slow, but Emma sensed Killian needed to do this under his own power rather than lying helpless any longer. She was glad he could manage it, and found her fingers sinking into the thick fur at his neck, carding the coarse hairs for additional contact, assuring herself he was still with her, still pushing forward with each labored step She was kicking herself now for wanting to deny whatever sort of abilities she possessed; she might be able to transport them to safety or heal him instantly if she had tried to find out what she was capable of instead of denying the ability existed. Yet, if gutting this out helped Killian fight back in some way, she would lend her strength to lean on and allow them that much.
Finally, the cabin was in sight, and after barely pulling himself up the steps, Emma opened the thick wooden door and watched as Killian limped the half dozen steps to a rug by the fireplace and collapsed upon it, sides heaving horribly. Seeing a box of matches on the mantle, Emma struck one, and lit the few small logs remaining in the hearth to generate some warmth. She stroked a loving hand down his flank before rising from her crouch, to which a full body shiver ran through his form in response.
"Rest," she ordered firmly. "I'll be right back. We'll clean you up and get you feeling better."
Hurrying to the adjoining bathroom, she was delighted to find running water, which she turned on to get hot for bathing his wounds and began digging through the medicine cabinet above hoping to find some sort of antiseptic as well. Rummaging through, she was startled by a sound of something tumbling in the other room.
Running back to Killian and hoping Gold hadn't already returned to complete his attack, she was brought up short by the sight which greeted her. There by the fireplace stood Killian Jones, once more in human form, though looking more than a little rumpled and confused, and with bare skin on full display. One hand was bracing him on the mantelpiece, while the other hand had moved to clutch at a knitted blanket draped over a rocking chair nearby in an effort to preserve his modesty, but he'd frozen when she burst back into the room, just as she had.
The firelight glinted off his muscled form, making him glow like a bronzed statue, and it was all Emma could do to pull her eyes up the expanse of dark hair covered chest and strong shoulders to Killian's searching face watching hers uncertainly. Her cheeks flamed with both embarrassment and attraction in equal measure. She had to lick her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, in spite of herself, before her voice stuttered awkwardly to ask, "K-Killian? Are you alright?"
His ocean eyes swept up to meet hers, and their gazes locked on each other. The air between them practically sizzled. And then he responded, "Aye, I'll live… Thanks to you."