Title: Broken Routines

Rating: M for mentions

A/N: HUGE apologies to anyone who saw my placeholders in the last chapter. It took way longer than I'd like to admit for me to realize I left my screaming name in the middle of the sections. Ha ha ha, oops. It also looks like this is going to be one chapter shorter than I thought it would. I toned the angst/drama way down from my original notes. I'm still working on the last full chapter, and then there will be a companion/epilogue that is written and just needs edited. So here we go! The beginning of the end!

CHAPTER 6: Broken Routines

Three months after the premier, Killian is still as happy as he was that night. He and Emma have created their own routines, fitting into each other's lives more easily than he would've guessed. The summer passed quickly between finishing his work on the novella, due to come out in the next month, and spending his free time with the woman he knows he loves but hasn't told yet.

It's a rare moment to not have her at his side, but the latest survey project she was given is finishing up and she's been grumpier than usual. While she knows he would gladly deal with her, even at her surliest, he knows she needs the time to unwind and reset. She's spending the night with Ruby and Belle, a pile of movies, and what he counted as three bottles of wine. So instead, he meets with Will at the bar around the corner from Emma's apartment, only because it's their regular watering hole and he doesn't mind the long walk home.

He spends time catching up with Will and endures a lot of talk about the new apartment he and Belle have recently moved into. They each spend a fair amount of time grousing about work, about late nights and tired eyes. And they spend an equal amount of time talking about the women in their lives. He's happy to see Will as content as he is. He also knows that, despite the strange and often passive aggressive friendship between the two of them, Will is happy to see Killian with Emma.

At the end of the evening, Will announces that Belle is on her way, so they finish their drinks and settle their tabs before waiting outside. Killian is surprised to see Emma walking with Belle, but her head is bent and he can immediately sense that something's off. When she gets close enough, he sees that Emma looks a little like death warmed over, and he notices a tightness around Belle's eyes that he's never seen the soft-spoken woman have before. Belle hugs Emma before passing by Killian, touching his forearm and giving him the kind of smile that tells him he's not going to like what's coming next.

"What's wrong, love?" he asks quietly after their friends have walked away. She doesn't answer, just burrows against his chest and he wraps his arms around her.

"Do you trust me?" she asks, just as quiet.

"Aye, you know I do."

"Then just come stay with me tonight. I don't," she stops speaking as she pulls back a little, still not meeting his eyes, but focusing on a spot just beyond his shoulder. "I don't want to be alone, but I can't talk about it yet."

"Whatever you need, Emma. I'm yours," he answers easily. She nods, reaching down to thread his fingers with hers and turning back to walk to her apartment. He follows in silence, more than willing to give her the time she needs to process whatever is going on.

Ruby is on the couch watching TV when they walk in, still occasionally sipping from a glass of wine, but even she looks far subdued from what she normally does. She nods and says hello when they enter, and he can see two unopened bottles of wine on the coffee table. A glass still sits mostly full in front of where Emma normally sits, and he starts to worry more. He returns the greeting and wishes Ruby a goodnight as they head to Emma's room.

The only light on is the one next to her bed, casting a warm glow through the room. Emma once again moves into his arms and he doesn't know what to do other than hold her. The worst scenarios are going through his head: something has gone wrong with her parents, Regina has lost her marbles and fired her, she's pregnant—

The last thought causes his heart to leap into his throat and he feels a vague sense of panic take over. He loves her, but there is no way they are at that point.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" he inquires. He's surprised to hear her laugh, and it soothes some of the tension in his shoulders that he didn't know had gathered there.

"No. Nothing like that," she says with a ghost of a smile on her lips. She's looking at him now, searching his eyes for something, and he hopes that whatever she's looking for is there. She looks as if she's about to say something, but only shakes her head and presses her lips together. She nods her head in the direction of the bed and moves out of his arms to change into pajamas.

Killian strips down to his boxers, and can't help but chuckle when Emma looks at the shirt he's just folded and grabs it. She strips off the shirt she put on moments before and slides on his, obviously taking comfort in the over-washed fabric. He folds his jeans and sets them next to the bed before climbing in after her.

She's in his arms in seconds, facing him, face buried against his neck and her hands curled up against his chest. She's shivering, but he doubts it has little to do with the hint of autumn in the air during the short walk to the bar and back. He wraps her tight in his arms, pulling the covers snug, and worries his way into a dreamless sleep.

When he wakes in the morning, Killian is relieved to see Emma beside him, but there are several clear signs that she didn't sleep as easily as he did. First, it's late. Much later than Emma allows herself to sleep on a weekend, much preferring to rise early and start her routines so she can have as much weekend as possible.

She's on her back, which he can only think of one other time she slept this way and it was right before she came down with a nasty summer cold. She has also somehow managed to wedge her hand under Killian's head, and he wonders how he slept through that since Emma's hand in his hair is one of his favorite things. Looking closely in the light that seeps into the room, he can see the dark circles still under her eyes, the salt crusted around the corners, which unsettles him even more. In all their months together, he has never once seen Emma Swan cry.

He slips carefully from the bed, only pausing to throw on his jeans in case Ruby is up and about, and makes his way to go start coffee. He only glances at the envelope on the counter, but the glance has him stopping and doubling back to check if he saw correctly. He notices words like 'divorce' and Emma's name, and a man named 'Walsh' and he can actually feel the blood draining from his face.

After a few deep breaths, when he knows that his blood is all pumping properly through his body again, he walks away from the counter and walks on auto-pilot to the coffee maker.

"Is Emma still asleep?" Ruby asks quietly behind him. He's still filling the pot, so he only nods. He hears Ruby make a noise behind him and he glances over to where she's shuffling the papers, trying to shove them back in the manila envelope.

"I've already seen, and no, she hasn't told me yet," Killian says. When Ruby's eyes meet his, he feels like he's being weighed and measured, like he's about to take the most important exam in all his life and it's one question, and it isn't multiple choice. "I'll let her tell me when she's ready," he states and turns back to wait for the coffee to finish brewing.

He's not expecting the hug, for Ruby's arms to squeeze all the way around him, trapping his arms by his sides, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"You're good people, Killian Jones," she says, and just like that her grasp is gone and she's moving back to her bedroom. He glances to see that the envelope has been stashed away somewhere, and he pours his coffee even though the pit in his stomach could swallow the whole measly city.

Killian enters the bedroom just as quietly as he left it after he's had his cup of coffee. He wants a shower, but he crawls back into the bed with Emma instead, tangling his fingers with hers and resting both their hands on her stomach.

He must doze back off because he wakes again to Emma's lips pressed against his and as soon as he's aware of it, he kisses her back. Their clothing is stripped and soon she's sliding on top of him, gripping his hands like a lifeline and rocking against him as if it's her one salvation. He can feel the panic and sadness with each move of her hips above him and he just holds on, hopes she can feel the reassurance radiating from him, hopes she feels that he's an anchor she can trust, that he'll be with her no matter what this all means.

When they're both sated, she collapses onto his chest and he can feel the quiet sobs wracking through her body a few heartbeats later. He wraps his arms around her, running his hand soothingly over the small of her back and whispering anything he thinks may bring her back to him.

It's early in the evening when she starts a conversation that isn't prompted by something he's said.

"I'm sorry," she says, voice gravelly from hours of near silence.

"No apologies necessary, love," he returns. Ruby is out with Victor, so they lounge on the couch not even paying attention to whatever movie is playing on the television. She had relented his shirt at some point, and he's starting to wonder why he doesn't just keep a spare set of clothes here since she keeps a set of work clothes at his place in case of an unplanned stay. They try to split time equally between their homes, so he chalks it up to his general laziness and her penchant for being prepared as to why she keeps clothes at his place and he doesn't at hers.

He immediately feels a small pang of guilt that he's worrying about such trivial things when Emma is still clearly distraught.

Emma shifts her head on the pillow in his lap and looks up at him. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen. Her lips pull down instead of the small smile she usually has when her face is relaxed. Without even thinking about it, his hand moves across her forehead and over her hair, brushing through the tangle of gold as gently as he can.

It hits him, then, that Emma has not followed a single routine all day. He's lost in thinking about all she normally accomplishes on Saturdays and which she may allow him to help her with that he almost doesn't hear the soft spoken words.

"I was married," she almost whispers. Seeing the papers was one thing, but hearing it from her broken voice feels like a sucker punch to Killian's stomach. He looks down at her, but she's turned her head. His hand freezes in her hair and he carefully tugs the strands between his fingers to make her look at him. Her gaze stays in the direction of the television, so he rests his hand where it is while either waiting for her to continue or he can think of what to say next. When the silence borders on something close to uncomfortable, Killian settles on what question to ask first.

"How long?"

"Less than a year," she responds without hesitation. He senses that she'll answer whatever he asks, but it'll be something akin to pulling teeth, with no numbing agent.

"When?"

"Two years ago," comes the next clipped response. As gently as possible, he takes a steadying breath. He can do the math. She had only been working at the survey center for four months when he introduced himself in April. She once told him she got the job after she had to relocate quickly, applied at Belle's insistence, and started working almost as soon as she was settled back into the apartment she and Ruby shared before she moved away from the city for a time.

"You moved here to get away from him." It's not a question, but she still nods in response. He's thinking of his next question when she sits up, suddenly, pushing her hair out of her face and scrubbing at the cheek that was turned away from him.

"It's good this happened early in," she says. He opens his mouth to question her, but she cuts him off again. "It's not serious enough that you can go if you want. Better that it happened now instead of a couple months from now or something."

Killian can almost swear that his heart stutters to a stop at her words.

"Apologies, Swan, but I'm not following," he says, eyes still trained on her and her looking anywhere but at him.

"I mean, this kind of damage. This is easier to walk away from while it's still early," she says while wringing her hands together. She practically springs off the couch, glancing only once at him and then looking beyond him again. "I can come get my bag later, or have Ruby get it…" She trails off when he stands and his heart cracks a little because the look on her face says that she's sure he's leaving.

He's overtly pleased at the gasp from her when instead he pulls her forward roughly and crashes his mouth against hers. She's clinging to his shirt when he pulls back and clearly looks a little lost, like there's some part of the conversation she missed.

"Is that what you think I'm going to do, Emma? You thing I'm going to leave you?"

Her eyes focus on his collarbone when he speaks and he makes a noise at the back of his throat before using the fingers of one hand to gently tilt her head. When her eyes finally meet his, he sees it. And he thinks vehemently how much of an idiot he is for not seeing it sooner.

"He wasn't the first to hurt you." Once again, he's not questioning her about it. He's stating it so she can hear that he understands. Still, she shakes her head. "Emma, my love," he starts and makes sure to emphasize it this time, "I will go only if you tell me that is what you wish of me. Otherwise, I've no intentions of walking out of here because of your past. I saw the papers on the counter this morning and could've walked out at any point."

She's quiet for a long time after he finishes speaking, tired eyes staring into his own and searching, and he finds he's holding his breath. Finally, she sags against him again, all of the tension deflating out of her at once and he holds her tighter, tucking her head beneath his chin.

"Will it help if I give you my shirt again?" he asks, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. He's relieved to hear the snort of laughter she finally lets out. She leans back to look at him and frames his cheeks with her hands. This time, she meets his gaze on her own. A small smile lifts the corners of her lips, just the barest hint, and Killian feels his heart tumble further for the woman in his arms.

"Killian, I—" She stops again. It's the second time she's said those words in that combination to him with months between, but Ruby doesn't burst in the door this time. Instead, he sees the fear flash through her eyes again and she closes her mouth without finishing.

"I know, Swan," he responds. Because he's fairly certain he can guess what she wants to say, only because he wants to say it as well. "You were trying to say goodbye this morning, just in case, weren't you?"

She nods. "Everyone else leaves. I was afraid you would, too."

"It takes a lot to scare me off. In fact, I was just realizing I should probably keep an extra set of clothes here. It's not like I can just borrow your shirts like you do at my place."

"I mean, you could," Emma says. Her eyes crinkle at the edges when she smiles, and he's relieved to see the expression back in place. As if just stepping into back into her body, she crinkles her nose and rubs at her eyes. "I feel like shit."

"Why don't you go take a hot shower and see if that helps? Then, you can tell me as much as you'd like and I will listen. I can make something for dinner, if you're hungry."

"Grilled cheese?" she asks hopefully.

"As you wish," he replies. He gently anchors a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her forward to kiss her forehead. Those three words are waiting for him to speak them, but he hears her sigh and her fingers reach up to brush along his collarbones. She leans up to kiss him one more time before she heads to the bathroom. He waits until he hears the shower running before turning to the kitchen to start preparing their food.

It's not until after they've eaten and he's handed her a glass of wine that she takes a deep breath and tells him about Neal. Her high school boyfriend. They started college together, and dated almost until graduation when she found him in his dorm room with another girl that he had always claimed was his study buddy since they were in the same major.

She drinks half the glass of wine when she tells him about Graham, the next man she dated, who was nice enough but left her because he claimed she wasn't over Neal enough for him to ever have a chance. She explains about the string of guys who only wanted one thing, but when they couldn't get in her pants, they disappeared. She drains the glass before she starts speaking again.

"And then there was Walsh," she starts. Gone is the slightly broken version of Emma he's been holding for almost twenty-four hours. Instead, there's a tinge of hatred and anger in her voice. She tells him all about his patient courtship of her, how he convinced her to move out of the apartment with Ruby to a city three hours away, how he convinced her she couldn't go visit them once a month because he was too lonely when she was gone.

She begins describing a level of possessiveness that has him clenching his fists, and then she starts telling him about their quickie wedding at a courthouse, how no one knew about it at the time and it took her weeks to tell Belle or Ruby, or even her parents. Shortly after they were married, the emotional and verbal abuse began in earnest and she lost contact with her friends and family for months. Finally, it was Belle driving to visit her unannounced, when Walsh was at work, who gently guided Emma to come to her own conclusions about her relationship because she knew it was the only way Emma would open her eyes to it.

And then Emma tells Killian that Belle knew all too well what that kind of relationship was like because she'd had the same kind with Gold, the same Gold that would court Milah out from under him after Belle finally put a restraining order out on him.

"So in a way, she saved my life and happiness while destroying yours," Emma finishes. The bottle of wine is gone between the two of them and he's sunk into the couch trying to absorb everything she's just told him. "Still with me?"

"I told you, you can't scare me off that easily, love," he says with a wink and she laughs. "And Belle didn't destroy my life. Quite the opposite, actually." He taps a finger on the tip of her nose when she starts to blush and she swats his hand away.

"Anyway, the papers for the finalization on the divorce came yesterday. That's what you saw. I don't know what my father said to him to finally convince him to sign the damn things without dragging us into court, but whatever it is worked."

"If David showed up on my doorstep and demanded I give him every last cent to my name and the clothes on my back, I would do so without hesitation. Your father was bloody terrifying when he gave me the 'what-are-your-intentions' talk when we went to visit them," Killian explains as he pulls her down to lay against him.

"He actually did that to you?" Emma asks. The surprise in her voice is evident.

"Swear on my honor. When you and your mother went to set the table, he waited until you were out of earshot and then sprung on his daughter's poor, unsuspecting boyfriend." Killian even manages to pout to show how victimized he was. Instead of a laugh like he was expecting, Emma is staring at him with open wonder.

"To my knowledge, you're the first guy he's ever done that with," she tell him.

"I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse, Swan." She does laugh this time, and kisses him reassuringly.

"I would take that as a very good sign, Killian," she says, snuggling down into his embrace. He feels her go lax shortly after, her breathing strong and even. He knows his back will protest in the morning, but he only grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and spreads it across both of them.

He's still awake when Ruby gets home that evening, her actions quiet and cautious, and she peeks her head around the couch to check on them. Killian lifts a hand in silent greeting. In typical Ruby fashion, she just grins, forms her hand into the shape of a heart at the sight of the two of them, and tiptoes back out of the living room to go to bed. When the apartment is completely silent again, he whispers his love to Emma against the hand he brings up to his lips and then finally falls asleep.