Did you folks not like the first chapter as much as the prologue? I hope I haven't gone wrong with this already. Let me know what you think; it really does help as I continue to write. Anyway, enough review-starved begging, on with the story!

I'm trying to update once more before the weekend, because I don't know if I'll be able to after this for a couple of days. This one was hard to write (it's something I've never tried to describe before, and it's hard to hurt Killian, even if it is fiction) but it shows what is truly at stake.

Hope you enjoy, and of course, I still don't own them!

Villain's Happy Ending

Chapter Two: Torment

Time seemed to stand still for a charged, horrifying stretch while the Witch nearly licked her lips, a predator salivating over trapped prey. As fervently as Killian wished that this monster would come for him, she turned and moved decidedly toward Emma. Her cackling laughter sounded like glass shards scraping across an unyielding surface, screeching in his ear. "Now, my pretty," she sing-songed mockingly, leaning into Emma's face and seemingly feeding on the helplessness and fear in the room, "let's see what we can do."

Killian was unable to go to her, to push the threat back, though every fiber of his being ached to do nothing else. His eyes widened and his fist clenched angrily, as he saw Emma gasp and begin to pant, suddenly unable to catch her breath. Without ever actually touching her, the Wicked Witch squeezed the air from his Swan's lungs, strangling her, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

As fast as the squeezing started, it stopped, and Emma gulped in air desperately, her rough inhale rasping in her throat. Killian was so relieved to see her drawing breath that he could focus on nothing else for several seconds. Until the Witch started in again on his golden-haired siren. "Let's not play games with each other, Savior," she hissed. "I know where your family is – where Henry is – and I can get to them more easily than ever, now that you're out of my way. Your son would already be dead if it weren't for this stupidly interfering pirate." She gestured behind her at Killian, and he couldn't help the hoarse cry that was ripped from his throat at the unexpected frisson of pain, like a knife slicing between his ribs, at her deft movement. "You're going to tell me what I need to know, Your Highness," she accentuated Emma's title with nasty emphasis, "or I'll send my winged minions to finish off your loved ones – if they haven't already – and if there is anyone left in one piece, I will bring them here to torture them in front of you for your lack of cooperation."

Emma tried to sneer at the green-hued banshee, but the venom in the threat made even Emma's bravado falter. He could see the fear for her family behind her forced calm expression, and he knew that though it would take a lot to break Emma Swan, her newly acquired family was the one chink in her armor. Their current situation proved her foe's power; this villainess was not playing games. He knew it. Emma knew it. And it would only get worse from here.

"Bloody hell, Lass!" he called out harshly, his voice raw as he tried to reach her while masking the pain he was in. "Don't listen to her!"

Emma's eyes flew to his desperately; he could tell that she wanted to believe him, but too many rotten, horrible things had accumulated over the course of her life – too many terrifying and awful things had happened in the last hour – for her to find much hope. Emma might be incredibly powerful, but faith in a happy ending had always been the hardest magic for her to muster. She gazed at him just a bit longer, drinking in his face as if using it to strengthen her resolve. Killian wanted to be that support for her, wished he could do infinitely more, but instead he forced himself to smile, tried to call up some of the mischief and play he usually gave her in a look, to help her believe she would get through this.

Howling in anger, the Witch saw what they were doing, and she did touch Emma then, clamping her clawed fingers around Emma's chin, and forcing the Princess's eyes back into her own burning stare. "Oh, you will look at me when I'm speaking to you, Princess!" she ordered, and Killian could see Emma squirming against the other woman's grip, a pained scream breaking from her lips against her will. Killian did not know what was happening to her, but he could tell how much it was hurting Emma, and at that, he felt that the torture might as well be done to him.

The green hand finally released Emma's face, and Killian's stomach turned as he thought he heard an actual sizzle, realizing the monster's touch had burnt Emma's pale, delicate skin. When he was able to look at her again, he saw ugly red welts already rising on her flesh. "You think that hurt, dearie?" the Witch chortled at Emma's stinted, labored breathing. "Let me show you what I plan to do to your precious Henry and your perfect, charming parents." She waved her arm in a dramatic circle, and a hazy, pale blue orb began to appear in thin air, like the pane of a magic mirror about to show them some horrifying vision.

Killian could take no more, could not stand to see Emma punished so ruthlessly. He did not know if it would work, but he had to try. "Oi! You scaly bint! Leave her alone! Why don't you show me what you can really do?!" His insides were already churning, but no quaver of fear showed in his voice; all that escaped was his rage at the way she had gone right for Emma's good heart, sapping her painfully and without remorse.

Shock crossed Emma's face, and her eyes widened fearfully, but for once in all the time Killian had known her, the brilliant lass did not argue or disagree, telling him either how surprised she was – or how hopeless.

Their tormentor, however, looked equally as taken aback, and she pivoted to stare openly at the infamous marauder Captain Hook as if she were seeing him for the first time. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" she giggled maniacally. "Could the ruthless pirate captain really be so vulnerable?"

She began to stalk toward him, calculated and menacing as she drew nearer, biding her time, a serpent readying to strike. The Witch was grinning evilly in anticipation of her next move. Not only was she anxious to move in for the kill, but as he studied her, trying to brace himself for the torture she would unleash, Killian realized that she was also puzzled by, and keenly interested in, a "villain" so clearly concerned for another above himself.

Killian glanced once more toward Emma, trying to fix in his mind the reason for what he was doing. One look at the way she huffed out short, constricted little breaths and the way she slumped weakly within the invisible force holding her in place, and he knew he would weather whatever this harpy wanted to rain down on him, if it would keep her away from Emma. His Swan sent him a hard-to-read look from across the distance separating them: a look of gratitude, concern, guilt, fear…and something almost tender.

He was still focused on her lovely face when the Witch struck, and it jarred him back to reality in terrible fashion. He actually lifted from his feet and was slammed backward into the wall so forcefully that he felt his bones breaking. Biting his tongue, he managed not to cry out, but his vision swam hazily, the pain nearly blinding.

It quickly became clear, however, that his tormentor would not allow much time for him to catch his breath, and she would not stick to just one method either. The moment he was set back on his feet, he was swept by the sensation of burning. He felt tongues of fire licking under his skin as surely as if he had been set aflame. He had no idea how this evil enchantress had the ability to cause so much pain without even physically touching him, but he was feeling the full effect of her ability now. It was hell on a body already raw and weakened, but he found that he couldn't even draw breath to cry out, and he was ridiculously grateful. He did not wish to be unmanned by pain so quickly, and he knew that her torment had only just begun.

The Witch frowned as he silently bore one mode of punishment after another, obviously not liking that she could not hear the evidence of his suffering, could not get her full measure of satisfaction while he remained stoic. She came closer still; her eyes narrowing as she funneled even more concentration and power into her next attempt.

Suddenly a scream did fly from his lips; the cutting blow he felt across his back so sudden and unexpected that he cannot hold it in. He had felt that pain only once before, when he was given the lash for desertion, long ago after the Royal Navy had caught up to him. It had nearly killed him then, and he only managed to escape with his life thanks to a daring last minute rescue by his loyal crew. He still carried the physical and mental scars. While his mind knew there was not an actual whip flaying his bare back, the Witch's magic recreated the damage perfectly, and he had no doubt that his skin was every bit as torn and dripping blood as it had been all those ages ago. He tried to hold his reaction in, but as he lost count of the number of vicious strikes sliced into him mercilessly, he actually began to heave and choke before a guttural cry of anguish tore from his chest, echoing through the dark chamber. It was only vaguely at the edge of his wavering consciousness that he realized Emma was begging and crying out for the Witch to spare him as well.

The onslaught stopped as abruptly as it had begun, slack returning to his chains, and Killian slumped to the floor in a boneless heap, unable to move. The Witch stood over his quivering, beaten form, gloating at her success. "Catch your breath, Hook," she intoned, nudging him with the pointed toe of her boot. "I'll be back for round two."

"Leave him alone, you monster!" Emma raged from the other side of the chamber, her voice frantic and angry. She sounded ready to strangle the villainess with her bare hands if she could only get to her. Killian couldn't even find it in himself to raise his head and look for her.

He did hear the sinister purr of the Witch as she spoke once more before walking away. "See here, my pretties," she warned. "I'm going to leave you for a moment. It will give you a last bit privacy to say your goodbyes." She waved her hand once more, and Emma fell to the floor; the spell that had been immobilizing her gone. "You had better go to your pirate while you can, Darling," the Witch continued callously to Emma. "I'm not sure how much more he can endure. Once you have seen how I can break someone, you may be more eager to keep your other loved ones safe."

With those words, she vanished in a plume of green smoke, and Emma ran to his side, collapsing to her knees before him, and gently – ever so carefully – reached for his hand while stroking her cool palm over his forehead.

"K-Killian? Can you hear me?" she asked meekly. "What can I do? She's blocking my magic somehow, or I'd try to heal you." When he doesn't speak, trying to regain his breath, she seems to panic. "Hook! Please, say something!"

It was all he could do to swallow hard and choke out her name through a throat hoarse from screaming. He managed to gently return the pressure on her hand holding his. "It's alright, Lass….Not your fault…"

"It is my fault! She turned on you to break me!" Her fingers were shaking as she soothingly brushed strands of his jet hair off his forehead, wanting to comfort him, but not sure how to do more without hurting him further. "It's enough, Killian…I can't watch you hand over your life for me."

There were so many things he wanted to say to her in that moment: that she was worth it, that he wanted to stay with her forever, that his life was nothing compared to hers. He wanted to thank her for finally letting him hear his given name on her lips and to beg her to kiss him one more time. Yet none of it passed his parched, dry throat. "Sweetheart…" he finally panted weakly. "Don't worry…about me. Find Henry. Put this bloody wench down….And live your life. Be happy…finally."

"No!" He felt the movement as she shook her head, her stubborn streak returning. "No, you're a part of my life now. You deserve your happiness too. Not this."

"Remember, Love…I'm a villain," he licked his lips and drew in a shaky breath. "Weren't we told that villains…don't get happy endings?" He tried a weak smile, which was lost to her anyway; she could only half see his face from where he lay, unable to roll over without ripping his back open even more.

A broken sob escaped her in a shudder as she ran a hand along his cheek. It was all he could do to hold himself together and stave off unconsciousness. He feared if he let go, he would never wake, or that when he did, she would be gone and he would not see her again. "You're no villain," her voice broke in once more, calling him back to her side. "You haven't been for a long time now."

"Thank you, Emma," he whispered, letting his eyes close for a moment, stunned by the intensity in hers and nearly unable to fathom her show of affection. It was truly painful to see what could have been between them now that he knew it was too late for him. He hated feeling so weak in front of her now, when she needed him, and he was horrified by the reality that he would not be a live distraction to keep the Witch from Emma much longer. A tremor went through him, which she felt and drew closer to him, squeezing his hand in a show of support.

He vaguely heard the popping sound of the Witch reappearing in another puff of smoke. He could not move more than to half-watch as he tilted his head. Horror filled him when Emma pulled her hand away from his to stand and step toward their tormentor angrily. He wanted to call her back, to warn her to save herself, but no sound escaped his mouth as she flew at the jade demon like a woman possessed.

Caught off guard, the Witch raised a hand to strike the Savior down, but to his shock, Emma instead disappeared completely, vanishing into thin air.