A/N: Two updates in a week, just for you guys. Fair warning: a good bit of pain, whump, characters being hurt/injured is on the way, so if that bothers you, please don't read it. I promise better things are coming for our poor pirate, but for now... Reviews and comments are the life force that fuels more chapters so if you'd like to know what happens, send me a note.
Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT, or the characters, or the locations, but they are a lot of fun to play with.
Chapter Six
Pressure on his hand was the first thing he felt as he drifted toward consciousness. Someone else's fingers, wrapped around his, squeezing gently.
Gradually, Killian opened his eyes.
It was night, if the window in the wall across from him was any indication. And he was alive. A lantern somewhere in the room emitted a soft glow and he could just make out the shapes around him. The girl from earlier held his hand in hers as he lay on his side on the bed, he could feel a bandage wrapped securely around his middle. Breathing still hurt, a lot, but it was less painful than before.
"Hey," the girl smiled. "You're up."
He tried to respond, to shape the words with his lips and force the air through to give them sound, but he was still so tired. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but clearly it hadn't been enough.
"Don't try to talk," another voice said, walking around the bed from the other side of the room. The woman with the cape, Red. "Save your strength. Whale said you'd probably be pretty weak for a while." She leaned over the girl. "I'll go let him know Hook's up, you'll be ok for a few minutes?" she asked.
The girl nodded, and Red smiled at Killian. "It's good to see you. We weren't sure you'd pull through at all." She flipped the hood up on her head as she went back around the bed and left the room.
Killian just lay there, concentrating on breathing in enough air. It was definitely easier, but he felt suffocated, almost as if his left arm was crushing his chest. He moved it forward a bit toward the edge of the bed, immediately noticing that his hook and brace were missing.
"Sorry about taking that off," the girl said softly. "We didn't want you to stab yourself while you slept. I hope you don't mind." Any embarrassment he might have felt normally at his exposed stump was oddly absent now. He'd never have taken it off in front of his old crew, but here, it didn't seem to bother him.
"I'm Grace," she continued. "My father is Jefferson, he rescued you from the Queen, with Red."
He managed to clench his fist slightly around her fingers, the only response he could manage. Thank you, he tried to say with his eyes.
"Do you want something to drink?" Grace asked. "The healer left some teas that might help you feel better, I could-" he squeezed her hand again, interrupting her, this time managing a slight shake of his head. No. Just the thought of eating or drinking nauseated him, though he couldn't remember the last time he had a full meal.
"Ok, ok, no drink." The girl looked worried as she watched him. "I just wish there was something I could do to help."
Killian grasped her hand tighter. She met his gaze as he looked at her, the words unable to come. Just stay, he wanted to tell her. She smiled shyly. "I'll be right here," she said, as if she heard his thoughts. He managed to pull one side of his mouth up in a weak grin.
The door behind him opened just then and the white-haired healer stepped around the bed into his line of sight. "Glad to see you awake," Whale said with a smile. "How are you doing?"
Grace answered for him. "He can't talk, and he didn't want your tea."
Whale laughed. "I should be insulted, but it does taste pretty terrible." He reached out a hand and placed it on Killian's forehead. "No fever," he said half to himself, "that's a good sign."
He moved around the bed behind Killian and gently peeled back the top of the bandage covering the stab wound. Pain that had been muted since he woke up now came roaring back to life. Killian's breath caught in his throat as he squirmed away from his touch, eyes closed tightly. "Sorry," murmured the healer softly. "Just checking the stitches. So far, it looks good." He replaced the bandage, and Killian relaxed against the mattress, panting slightly as he fought to get his breathing back under control.
Whale came back into view beside Grace.
"Tell me, Hook, is it easier to breathe like this?" he asked gently.
Killian shook his head. It was easier than before, true, but he felt trapped lying on his side, his breaths coming more in short gasps than anything that resembled a normal rhythm.
"Would it be easier if you sat up a bit?" Whale asked. "You'd have to lie against your back, and we can try to make it as soft as possible so it shouldn't hurt too badly, but I think you'll be breathing better that way. Care to try it?" Killian didn't answer for a moment, as he weighed his options. Pain he could handle, but this feeling of suffocating was so much worse. He forced a nod to the healer.
"Ok," Whale said as he stood. "Red, can you bring some extra pillows?" She smiled and left to find something soft.
Whale positioned himself behind Killian as Red brought the pillows and a couple of soft blankets.
He could feel his heart speed up, preparing for the worst. In front of him, Grace held his hand tightly. "I'm still here," she said gently. Whale's arm slipped behind his neck and soon he could feel himself being lifted up, his head lolling against the healer's arm. He groaned, the movement pulling at every cut on his skin, as Red slipped the pillows and blanket behind him. Whale lowered him against the stack of cushions. Pain flared again as his back touched them; he arched backward and gasped as he willed his muscles to relax. Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt his body sagging against the pile of pillows.
He was nearly upright now, propped to almost sitting. The fire in his back was quickly fading to a more manageable ache. And he could breathe! It still took effort to keep his breaths even and slow, and they were more shallow than they should have been, but he was already feeling much better, the air coming easier to his lungs.
"How's that?" Whale asked as he pulled the covers up around Killian's stomach.
He tried to say "better", but settled instead for a nod. He could already feel the heaviness of exhaustion pulling at his eyelids. He couldn't remember ever being so tired. He blinked slowly, forcing his eyes back open. Whale noticed.
"Sleep, don't fight it. You need to get a lot of rest," he said as he stood. Killian slowly turned his head to the right, to Grace who still sat beside him, and managed a lopsided grin, which she returned. The lights in the room seemed to dim around him as he slipped back to sleep.
Images flash through his mind as he sleeps, so vivid, so real, moving too quickly for him to understand, yet they keep coming, faster and faster, leaving him dizzy.
Liam dying in his arms as he sobs for help.
A beanstalk, miles above his head in the sky.
Lying on the ground, his chest a mess of broken ribs, the rain and mud mingling with his blood
A portal whirling green on the open ocean, the Jolly Roger getting sucked into its outer reaches.
The dense, hot jungle air sticking to his neck as he swings his sword toward an invisible attacker.
His shadow being ripped from his body as he cries out.
Shards of ice crashing from the air above him, aimed at his head.
A hand plunging into his chest as he's tied to a fence, and he's screaming in agony.
He woke with a start, gasping for air. He couldn't breathe, his chest rising and falling too fast, throat working too hard to suck in the oxygen that just wouldn't come. He grabbed at the bandages across his chest, frantically trying to loosen them, to open his lungs, but there was nothing, nothing…
A hand grabbed his shoulder, his cheek, turning his face to the side. His vision swam as he tried to see the face before him, the woman in red. "Breathe, Killian!" she was calling. But she was so far away, almost underwater, and he could barely hear her over the rushing waves of panic that crashed over him. His mouth opened and closed as he desperately tried to suck in more air, but still nothing came. "Breathe!" she was yelling. She pounded briefly on his chest, once, twice, and he managed a short gasp of air, but no more came. He let his eyes close, tears of exertion squeezing out from the corners.
He felt a light slap on his cheek. "Look at me," he heard her say as she slapped him again. "Look at me!" He opened his eyes, forcing them to focus on her. "Watch me, ok?" she said. "Breathe with me." She reached a hand behind his neck, pulling his head off the pillows.
He tried, he really did, but it was too much, his throat refused to open. Moisture tracked down his cheeks, tears mingling with the sweat that stood out on his face and neck. Her other hand went to his chest again, rubbing circles on his tensed muscles as she tried to calm him. "Please, Hook," she pleaded. "Please, just breathe."
The edges of his vision were starting to go dark, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as he struggled. He gasped, a small amount of air going into his chest, but he couldn't, he just couldn't push it out again. She shook his head a bit in her hand. "Please," she whispered again, her eyes filling with tears. "Please."
He forced himself to pull harder as he gasped again, oxygen finally filling his lungs, and he felt his body finally, finally relaxing somewhat. He released his breath with a sob. It hurt, everything hurt again, especially this torture. Another breath, another stab in the center of his chest, and he let it out again. "Good, that's good," she was saying, as if from somewhere much farther than right beside him. "Keep going, Hook, you can do it."
Dimly he noticed Whale rushing into the room behind her, Grace pulling him forward. He closed his eyes, just trying to breathe. Little by little, Killian's muscles unclenched, his chest rising and falling at a less frantic pace than before. Red laid his head back as she wiped the tears and sweat from his face with a clean cloth. He was completely drained, he barely had the energy to keep his eyes focused.
"You did it," she said softly, a shaky smile on her lips, her eyes still bright in the dim lantern light.
Whale put his fingers to his neck as he slipped beside Red. "Pretty sure that was what we call a panic attack," he said gently. Killian could feel the exhaustion taking hold in every part of him, and he had a hard time paying attention to what was going on. So tired.
"He was sleeping," Red told him. "And then he just stopped breathing. It was so sudden."
"Nightmare set it off, probably," Whale said. Killian flicked his gaze to the healer, who understood and nodded. It had been a nightmare, but it felt so real, almost like... a memory. Except now, after all the excitement, he found he couldn't remember a single image from his dreams.
He felt Grace take his hand from the other side of the bed, pulling it toward her. He could feel her squeezing his palm, his fingers, with both of hers. With all the energy he had left, he managed to turn his head toward her as she held his larger hand with both of her small ones, tears streaming down her cheeks. Don't cry, he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her it was ok, he was all right now, he wanted to grip her hand tightly and comfort her, but he had no strength this time, his fingers limp against her touch. He heard Whale and Red talking, about taking turns watching him while he slept, but he couldn't bring himself to pay attention.
Grace looked up at him. "We need you, Killian," she whispered. "You're our only hope."
Why? Why do they care? he wondered wished he could ask, but he already felt himself falling back asleep. He drifted off, her hands still holding his, hoping that this time there would be no dreams.