A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! They spur me on and feed my imagination! I hope you keep enjoying the story and let me know if there's any scenes you guys would like to see before the story ends and I'll see if I can make them work! You guys are so creative so I'm sure someone has something they'd like to see! I don't want it to get boring for you all!
Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators!
Will had left the previous afternoon but Emma stayed in the chair next to Killian's bed all through the night. She didn't want to leave him alone when he was so often plagued by nightmares she would have to physically shake him out of. At first, as soon as she'd broken him free from one and he'd gone back to sleep a new one came raging in. Eventually when the span between his dreams began to stretch after midnight, his own consciousness seemingly too wiped by the fire he kept reliving to come up with anything else, Emma was able to drift off as well. She put two chairs together and propped her feet up on one, lounging back onto the other. It wasn't a bed but at least it wasn' she was close enough that Killian would wake her if he started to thrash again.
"Hey, Emma," a voice trickled into her consciousness, rousing her from her light sleep. Emma stirred, yawning until her jaw cracked before she pushed herself upright. David and Mary Margaret were crouched in front of her, Mary Margaret's hand resting on Emma's shoulder.
"Hi," Emma replied roughly, pushing her tangled hair out of her face. It felt gross from all the time spent away from her house and wash products. She really needed a shower. Mary Margaret seemed to read her mind, pushing a small duffle bag onto her lap with a smile.
Emma opened it to reveal a change of clothes, much needed considering she was still wearing the blood stained shirt under her sweater, and toiletries. Shampoo and a comb were stuffed inside along with body wash and a toothbrush and toothpaste. In the side pocket was slices of banana bread that Mary Margaret must have made the night before.
"Thanks," Emma said, setting the bag on the floor and glancing at Killian who still slept beside her.
Mary Margaret shook her head and picked up the bag again. She pointed at the little bathroom attached to the room Killian had been placed in. There was a small shower inside it since this room was meant for people staying longer than a few nights but Emma hadn't wanted to use it and leave Killian alone, not that she had the things she needed for a proper shower before anyways.
"We're here to watch Killian. Go, relax a little, clean yourself up. If he wakes up while you're in there we'll handle it."
Emma nodded. It would be nice to have a few moments to clean herself up. She still had the grime of her tears on her face from the night Killian had first told her he loved her. She stood and moved to the bathroom, turning the small shower on to as hot as she could get it. She undressed, folding all her dirty clothes and placing them in the duffle bag. She placed the toiletries in the shower, tested the water then got in.
She took her time, scrubbing off the grime, even finding bits of dried blood from the docks soaked in to her skin from her clothing. She carefully rubbed that away with the sweet smelling body wash that Mary Margaret must have taken from her own shower since it was much fancier than Emma ever used. She washed her whole body twice until her skin glistened pink from the water's heat and the exfoliation of the scrubbed Mary Margaret had provided. She scrubbed at her scalp with her fingernails, applying a generous amount of the shampoo to her palm before lathering up her long blonde hair. Once finished she stood under the water, letting the heat relax the sore muscles of her back and shoulder from sleeping in a chair for the past two nights.
She kept her ears trained to the room, listening for any signs that Killian might be stirring or having another nightmare. She really wanted to head the nightmare off before Mary Margaret or David saw. Killian was so vulnerable, face twisted in pain and draining of all colour when they struck. It was too private for her friends to witness. All was quiet except for the murmuring of Mary Margaret and David. Emma laid her head against the slick tiles and breathed deeply.
She still couldn't figure out how everything had spiraled out of control so fast. One minute she was starting to fall for an old friend, the next she was having flashbacks of her abusive ex-boyfriend because of words her new one- was he even her boyfriend?- said to her. Then she was at the dock watching him as he nearly died, then waiting at the hospital for news and now she was here, face pressed against the shower, Killian sleeping with a hand that seemed to have only two fingers that had nerves that could receive impulses. Her life had changed so much, all because of the man she slept on plastic chairs for. It was terrifying and overwhelming because she meant it when she said she loved him even if she wasn't sure yet how she could be able to do that after Neal. None of this was what she planned but she didn't find herself fighting it as much anymore. She actually wanted to be with Killian, comfort him and reassure him because he had a long road ahead of him before he would reach a semblance of healed. But maybe, going along that recovery with him would help Emma heal her own wounds. Maybe.
She shut off the shower, grabbed the fluffy towel from the pile of clean clothes and dried herself off. Once dry she dressed in a pair of worn boyfriend jeans and a cranberry sweatshirt, slightly faded from years of washing. It was clothing that Emma had left at Mary Margaret's house for emergencies last winter and then forgotten about it. She was very glad that Mary Margaret had found them in their spot at the back of her closet. She sighed as the soft cotton slid over her shoulder, comforting her like an old blanket. Emma slipped her sling on, glad that she only had a few more days of wearing it left, then finger combed her hair as best as she could. There wasn't much she could do much for the mats but at least it was clean and shining again.
Quickly she brushed her teeth, thanking her lucky stars that she had friends who would think of things like a toothbrush when coming to meet her at a hospital. They even watched Killian for her so she could relax for a half an hour or so when they hadn't even had to come in the first place. She wasn't sure how she deserved people like that in her life but she wouldn't fight her friends' desire to help, to make her more comfortable. She loved them too much for that. Emma closed the bag and then left the steamy bathroom.
Mary Margaret and David sat together on the chairs that Emma had used as a bed, talking quietly. Killian was still asleep; the gentle pattern of his breathing telling her that he was nightmare free, at least for now. She set the bag down and stood at the foot of the bed.
"You look much better," Mary Margaret observed.
"I feel better," Emma replied, rolling her shoulders to show the absence of stiffness. She watched Killian sleep, pleased that some colour had finally returned to his cheeks.
"Have you two made up?" Mary Margaret asked, noticing the direction of her gaze. David reached for the bag and fished out the banana bread. He handed a piece to Emma and another to his wife before biting into his own. Emma waited until everyone had settled again to answer.
Emma nodded. "I told him I loved him. Jones thought it was only because I felt bad, so I got angry but I'm hoping we've reached an agreement on the situation. I still don't know what we are," Emma admitted. "But I think we're something."
"Something, huh?" Emma turned from her friends to where Killian laid, now awake, eyebrow quirked. Emma rolled her eyes at him. Of coursehe would choose that exact moment to reveal that he wasn't actually sleeping. Emma suspected the sound of the shower had woken Killian up but he had been biding his time until he could bother her.
"Something that will walk straight out the door if you don't stop being a smart ass," Emma replied, though her words didn't hold as much of a threat as they could of. A flicker of emotion darkened Killian's eyes for a moment before he shrugged and pretended to be nonchalant about her threat. Emma instantly regretted her words, remembering Killian's belief that she was only there until she stopped pitying him.
Emma reached into the bag and grabbed another piece of the homemade loaf and handed it to him. Killian shifted so she could sit down next to him and she settled on the mattress immediately, keen to show him that she hadn't actually meant her earlier words. Killian ate while Mary Margaret and David spoke to him, David telling him about his ship and his crew mates. Killian listened intently to the news that all hands had gotten off the trawler alive and were all slated to recover. The news had him so absorbed that he didn't immediately notice Emma playing with the fingers of his injured hand.
She moved them back and forth, just the top knuckle at first, testing to see how his skin would move. She wanted to make sure his fingers stayed mobile, even if he couldn't move them himself because maybe someday he'd get sensation back in them. It was a long shot, highly unlikely a nurse had told them when Killian reported his finger movement, but Emma didn't want him to heal without trying to keep some form of tactile sensation in his digits. Killian had no sensation on any of the fingers other than the two he had moved the previous day when Emma wiggled them. Emma was pretty sure he barely felt the injured skin stretching.
Killian's chewing froze when he felt her working on his last two fingers. Emma could feel the burned muscles tighten under her touch. She kept moving the joints, trying to be inconspicuous. Killian had nothing to be embarrassed about with her friends; they had dealt with much worse with Emma's worst days. David and Mary Margaret hadn't even noticed her ministrations to his hand.
"Don't, Emma," he whispered, pulling his hand away. Emma only stopped because he used her first name. The last time he'd used it, and really, one of the only times she ever remembered him using it, even ten years ago, was when she was about to hang up on him a few days ago. Killian had sounded so broken then and his tone was worse now.
"Sorry," she murmured back, placing her hand flat on her thigh.
Killian nodded slightly and shoved the last of his banana bread into his mouth. The way his jaw set as he chewed screamed tension. Emma reached up and ran a thumb along the dark circle under his eye. Killian tilted his head under her touch, the lids on his eyes growing heavier. Emma cursed those dreams that haunted him. She just wanted him to feel better, to be able to comfort him the way he had comforted her when she was shot. But looking at his worn and pained face she felt like she was doing an absolutely shit job of it.
Someone who wasn't the nurse assigned to Killian knocked on the room door. Everyone turned towards the noise. She had a kind and observant face, brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her hazel eyes swept the room in grand arcs, missing nothing. She entered and stood at the end of the bed.
"Hi, Killian," she greeted. Emma knew the woman was noticing everything, the dark circles, strained eyes, stiff jaw, the way Emma sat next to him, shoulders brushing but stiff in posture. Emma stayed still, waiting, not wanting to give this stranger ideas. "I'm Dr. Marin and I was wondering if you wanted to come talk to me for a bit."
"Why?" Killian asked, surprised and wary.
The doctor pursed her lips for a moment, deciding what to say, before smiling again. "Honestly? It's hospital protocol you talk to a psychiatrist about what happened to you but I was hoping you'd want to talk about it anyways. You look pretty tired. I think I could help with that."
"I'm fine," Killian replied, bristling.
"You sure?" Dr. Marin asked, clearly disbelieving him.
Emma leaned over to Killian's ear. "Please go," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. Emma was tempted to use the words for me again but she wanted Killian to want this himself. She wanted Killian to talk about the dreams to someone more qualified to deal with them. Emma could listen but she didn't know what else to do other than murmur reassure his safety and hold his uninjured hand. She hated seeing the look on Killian's face every time he woke from the fire nightmare, terrified, lost and completely drained from staving off the panic attack each dream brought.. It tore her up and she knew that what she felt was nothing as to how Killian was dealing with it. "You deserve to feel good."
"Will this make you feel good?" he asked, turning so he could lean his forehead against Emma's.
"It doesn't matter how I feel about it. Worry about yourself for a while. Do this because it will help you."
Killian searched her face, looking for some kind of conformation. Emma didn't know what he wanted to see so she just kept her face still. Emma could feel the psychiatrist's eyes on them along with Mary Margaret and David. Eventually Killian let out a huff of breath, the air spreading out across her cheeks and making her smile.
Killian pushed himself off the bed and stood to face the psychiatrist, injured hand held carefully at his side, slightly behind his leg. "Okay, I'll come on one condition."
"What?" The whole room asked at once.
Killian smirked. "Emma gets me a bear claw for breakfast."
"I'll get you two," Emma replied, laughing. Killian nodded and followed the psychiatrist out of the room, one final glance shot back at Emma. She was so relieved that Killian could joke despite everything, that he was still the man she remembered. Emma would get him as many donuts as he wanted if it meant she would see his smile again.