Here is chapter two, which, rest assured, will definitely not be the last one! Enjoy!

Chapter 2 - Torn

The door of Emma's room creaked as it opened, and a dark shaped limped into her room. The young woman was still asleep in her bed, her blond hair fanning out over the white pillow like a halo as she lay unawares.

Slowly and seemingly painfully, the newcomer moved closer to her bed. As the stranger neared the window, the moon light shone on his dark clothes, revealing a torn and dirty uniform. The figure, decidedly male, was holding his left arm against his chest, the white bandages bright in contrast to his dark blue vest.

A quick glance around the room and the man took two last steps, reaching the side of the fancy bed and bumping his knees against it in the dark. Letting out a quiet grunt, the figure bent down and stroked Emma's soft cheek, a fond smile appearing on his face. The princess turned her head, frowning in her sleep. Quickly, the man pulled his hand back, holding it up against his heart.

Seconds later, his hand made its way back down, resting on the blonde's shoulder this time. He rubbed it gently, fingers playing with a loose thread of her nightgown. Once again, Emma shifted, but the figure didn't budge. If anything, he squeezed her shoulder tighter, not wanting to let go. A soft gasp was heard, and the man watched in wonder as Emma opened her eyes. She blinked several times before her eyes focused on him, the green orbs widening in recognition.

"Killian?" She whispered, disbelieving. The man simply smiled, looking down at her lovingly. Emma's eyes filled with tears, happy tears. It was then that she took in his appearance. His face was cut and dirty, and she could tell he hadn't shaved in weeks. His dark hair, usually short and neatly cut, was long and unkept, falling over his eyes. And his eyes, his eyes had lost their usual bright blue color, replaced by a dull, almost gray shade.

Swallowing, Emma pushed the covers down to extract her arms and grab onto his arms, pulling him down gently due to his injuries. Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips, and she noticed how dry and chapped they were. Never, in all the years that she had known Killian, had his lips seen a chapped day. Banishing the thought, Emma pulled him into a kiss, and it was almost like what she remembered. Almost.

His lips felt rough against hers, whereas they would usually be soft. She figured this was due to how chapped they were. He tasted of something she couldn't identify, bringing a frown to her face. Her Killian had always tasted slightly of rum, his one guilty pleasure. She remembered the way a younger Killian would sneak bottles out of the kitchen and proceed to a plentiful consumption of the beverage. That was until he had taken too much of the amber liquid and had almost challenged a sailor to a duel. Luckily, a passing soldier of the king's had interrupted the brawl. That day, as well as the next morning while sporting a particularly painful headache, Killian had sworn he had learned his lesson. He limited his daily drinking to the contents of his small flask.

She pulled away for a breath, but then his lips were back on hers and his right hand was making its way down to rest on her waist. There, it stopped for just an instant before continuing on its way down. Emma let out an airy moan as Killian kissed her just a bit harder, his hand slipping under her nightgown. She let him move it higher, then hook a finger into her panties. The princess lifted herself up to let him pull down the lace fabric and reached for his vest before he could reach back under her dress.

Emma watched him intently as she pushed the vest off his shoulders, not missing the way his shoulders tensed. Once the first layer was removed, Emma barely spared his bandaged arm a glance before getting to work on his button up shirt. Crippled or not, he was still her Killian. She didn't care what state he was in, she loved him and would always be his. He protested weekly, but Emma brushed it off. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice the look of regret in his eyes, tainted with fear.

Another feeble attempt to discourage her was met with the same reaction, and within seconds Emma was pulling his injured arm away from his chest, and he winced. Shushing him softly, Emma slipped the shirt off his shoulders carefully. Once the dark cloth was on the floor and her eyes were back on him, the blonde gasped.

Their eyes met, and Killian mustered a small smile, as if to say it would all be alright. Slowly seeping from a wound just above his heart, was blood. Dark red drops fell onto Emma's immaculate white gown. "No, no." She whispered, eyes wide in panic. She reached out and placed her hand over his chest, as if attempting to stop the inevitable. The flow only seemed to grow more abundant.

Breathing faster now, Emma cupped Killian's face with her other hand, brushing the dark strands of hair back softly. She tried to tell him to hang on, that she would get help, but he merely shook his head. They both knew it was too late. So instead Emma just held him against her chest, running her hands through his hair and whispering soothing words.

Using his last ounce of strength, Killian looked up at her and smiled. "I love you." He whispered, barely audible, even in the silence of Emma's bedroom. Then he closed his eyes, and was still.