Here we are again, continuing the saga of Captain Hook and Emma Swan's early meetings, and where it is eventually leading them. I really appreciate the follows and favorites people have given this – thanks! I'd still love any comments folks might have, either what they liked or what they weren't so fond of. As before, I don't own them, though Killian Jones is trying to take over a huge chunk of realty in my mind…
"Islands in the Stream"
Chapter Three: On the Mend
"You do something to me that I can't explain
Hold me closer and I feel no pain
Every beat of my heart,
We got something going on…"
When he wakes up in a blindingly white, antiseptic-scented modern hospital room in Storybrooke, it takes Killian a few minutes to remember where he is and how he got there. Blinking against the harsh light, which is nothing like what is found in nature or the candles and lanterns he is used to, he tries to quickly take stock of his surroundings, figure out how badly he is hurt, and the quickest escape route if that becomes necessary. It doesn't take long to ascertain that his head pounds and aches more with every second his eyes remain open, but the worst pain is localized in his ribcage, which feels as if every breath he takes scrapes it raw. A moment of panic where he is literally afraid to move even a hair's breadth overtakes him, but he forces himself to calm down and breathe through it. He cannot remember experiencing this kind of agony since the Crocodile took his hand, but niggling threads of memory tell him that the Crocodile is connected to this injury as well. Bit by bit, flashes return to him of a horrible, fast-moving, wheeled, metal contraption hurtling in his direction, and Killian is sure that whatever the device was has done the real damage he is feeling. Slowly he recalls going to the town line with a gun in hand, and is still trying to reconnect the images he gains into some sensible order when he hears the door across the room start to open.
Glancing up, he is startled to see Emma Swan, stepping in uncertainly, as if not sure she belongs or what she is even doing there. Hook knows that he has already heard her voice from behind closed eyelids this night? – morning? – ordering someone else to hide him from Gold with a worried note in her voice. 'So she does care,' his mind whispers unbidden, and an unconscious smirk steals across his lips at the idea. She had been out there in the dark with him too; he remembered her testing the damage to his ribs as he lay sprawled and immobile on the cold, hard ground. Just as she had then, she is trying to project her toughest front. Swan saunters into the room coolly, coming to stand over him and smoothly disguising the hesitation he had glimpsed for a moment when she first entered. He can see a strange golden star sparkling at her waist, and she unknowingly brushes her fingers over it, as if assuring herself that it's still there before asking bluntly – demanding really – "Where's Cora?"
He quirks one of his expressive black eyebrows at her playfully, then winces as sharp pain shoots through his skull again at the motion. "Cora?" he tries, still hoping to play with her. "I think you had better leave that witch alone, Darling. She got me here, but my concern is not with her. I came to finish things with the Crocodile."
Emma shoots him a disgruntled look, as if she can't believe he can still be so cheeky after being hit by a car, losing consciousness, and breaking several ribs. In all actuality, he can't help noting how adorable the little furrow in her brow is as she tries to figure out what he is doing in her world and how he got there. "Keep laughing, Buddy. I won't be able to hide you from Rumplestiltskin forever, and I'd say you're done once he gets to you."
"Hardly, Lass! It's me who's after him! Did you see his face? Priceless!"
"Are you really that cold, Hook?" she shoots back, eyes narrowing. "You shot an innocent person – and she has no idea who she is now! What did Belle ever do to you?!"
"She loves the Crocodile," Killian replies simply. "It's nothing personal, but she holds whatever semblance of a heart he possesses. That is where I must hurt him to repay what he did to me."
"You're like a spoiled child," she retorts, and he can tell she would really like to break the rest of his ribs in irritation. "Use some sense before you get yourself killed, why don't you?"
Killian can't help being a bit offended. How weak and defenseless does she believe him to be? The Dark One may be powerful, but he is the most feared pirate captain in the realms. He has had long enough to stew on the punishment the Dark One deserves, and no matter how powerful that demon may be, he can still be killed. He moves forward to sit up and demand his hook, ready to storm out on his enemy's trail again, only to be pulled up short by a familiar type of restraint on his good wrist.
"Is this your doing, Swan?" he seethes, glowering at her in dark frustration. However, he backtracks quickly, knowing that his anger will only make her more determined to detain him, and forces himself to shift over to easy flirtation. "You do realize that there's no need to restrain me, don't you, Love? I'm yours for the asking."
"Give it a rest, Hook," she sighs, feeling time sliding past all too quickly. She needs to check on the strange newcomer to town, make sure Belle is stabilized and resting for the night, be certain that Gold isn't anywhere around, and then she has to get back to Henry before he wakes up to find her gone. Add those to the fact that she honestly hates having to chain Hook up again and her knowledge that he must feel vulnerable without his hook, and she has about all the stress on her mind that she can handle.
"Fine, deny your attraction all you want, Princess. I know it's there." He winks at her, and wriggles, trying to sit up straighter despite the pain, and holds out the stump of his other arm. "I'll just have my hook back please, and then be on my way."
"Not a chance!" she spits indignantly, and yet she is already leaning into his personal space, reaching around him to prop him up with more pillows and gently settling him back against them, her hands lingering in a soft, soothing way that belies the exasperation and abruptness in her voice and manner. Killian is genuinely surprised when, before she pulls away, she slowly runs a hand over his forehead as if checking for fever and searches his eyes with real concern. "Better now?"
"Aye, thank you," he replies, his voice suddenly raspy and strangely breathless.
"You need to stay here and rest, you ridiculous pirate," she mutters almost fondly, regaining normal distance between them again, much too soon for his liking. "For my sake, can you at least try to stay out of Rumplestiltskin's way – at least until your ribs are healed and you're on your feet again?"
"Didn't know you cared, Swan," he tossed back with an endearing crooked smile, eyes sparkling with mischief and pleasure both. Puzzlingly, he can see that there is an odd mixture of regret and longing mixed with the authority and agitation in her gaze as she looks at him waiting for his answer. Killian recognizes the confused turmoil, knowing it must be something like what he felt at leaving her in the cell in the Enchanted Forest in order to stay on Cora's good side.
"Are you going to stay here and behave, or am I going to have to post guards outside?" she responds, ignoring his banter.
"I will…for now," he nods to her in deference, knowing he really can't go anywhere in the state he's in anyway. Truth be told, he hasn't been feeling the pain nearly as much since Emma arrived. She is a charmingly bewitching distraction, and though he does not know just what it is she does to him, he finds himself wanting her to stay.
Emma is shaking her head at him now, laughter in her usually troubled, careworn eyes. He would pay good money to know what she is thinking, and wonders for a moment if he were a better man, and if so much weren't already standing between them, what it would take for her to let him in. Every beat of his heart asks the question now pulsing through his veins. There is something between them; they have both been fighting it since first laying eyes on each other, but it hasn't gone away.
"Make sure that you do," she warns finally, standing again, knowing that she has to leave, even if seeing the captain bruised and broken on the hospital bed makes her want to do nothing more than stay and look after him. "I don't want to be picking up magically scattered pieces of you!"
"Keeping me right where you want me, aren't you?" Killian tries once more, unable to resist the way he can make her both blush and fume simultaneously. Whatever it is she is stirring up inside, he can no longer deny that he likes it. "Don't worry, Love," he murmurs, holding her gaze a moment longer before she turns away, "I'm not going anywhere."