Another episode!
FFN finally fixed their famous error No. 2. Glad! I needed to keep going!
I won't limit myself anymore; this was intended to be a 2 chapter fic and look where it's headed! I practically am rewriting the whole season 1, lol!
Thank you all for the likes, follows and reviews!
Mr. Gold hadn't really enjoyed his time in Storybrooke for a long time. He was hated by most people in town and for good reason; everyone, not just Devlin, owed him something. And he was terribly lonely. There was a rumor that he had a son somewhere in the country, but no one exactly knew his name or whereabouts and no one seemed to even have the inclination to leave town. Except, maybe, for Mr. Gold himself, if only to find his son and explain a whole lot of things to him.
For the time being, however, it was a moot point. He, like everyone else in the town, was unable to leave... and that would remain if Emma didn't find the local rock star before the "other guys" did.
The storm outside was fiercer than many others he had seen in Storybrooke. He paced to the door and lifted the blind slightly, looking at the clouds of wind, dust and nearly horizontal rain as they swept past the streets, funneled like a deadly wind trap. Through the tempest, he made out the figure of a woman, coming close to the shop, her robe-like dress blown against her body and staggering as she covered her face with both arms, long strands of auburn hair blowing violently.
Gold opened the door and had a hard time holding it so it wouldn't be blown away by the storm. "Come on! Hurry!" He shouted for the girl, reaching out. She staggered in his direction and held her hand out, barely grabbing him by the very tips of his fingers. With a single pull he jerked her inside and the girl stumbled in, still holding onto herself.
Gold pulled the door shut with great effort while the icy winds still whistled outside Main Street.
"You poor girl, what are you thinking, going out during such a storm, eh? You wouldn't want a cuppa..."
He was stunned to silence as the girl turned to him. Beautiful blue eyes met his own. She looked disheveled and pale but was still the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. He caught his breath as he once heard that sweet, tender voice he had thought the cold, icy grip of death had taken from him years and years ago.
"A... are you Mr. Gold?" she mumbled in that peculiar accent. "I was told I could come here... told to tell you that... Regina had me committed..."
"Committed..." He whispered through quivering lips.
"Yes." She shrugged shyly. "Does that make any sense to you?"
He paced to her, trembling. Few things ever made him feel weak in the knees... and she was one of them. He nodded.
"So... can you... protect me?" she bit her lower lip.
"Yes..." he smiled, nearly crying. "Yes... I can..." He held her to him, gently, taking care not to hurt or startle her.
He now silently hoped and prayed twice as hard for Emma to get to Devlin. Then... only then, would she remember him.
...
"Here, let me look at that..." Devlin said as he removed some of her blonde strands of hair out of the way. He winced at the sight of the coin-sized bloody gap where hair should have been. "He ripped it all out clean, the bastard... It'll grow back love. We need to clean that up."
He walked around her and looked at the old, dusty emergency kit. Upon opening it and seeing it was empty, he chuckled. "Well, so much for medical supplies. We'll have to do this the old fashioned way..." He looked at her as he tossed the box back. "Lie down, love..."
Emma, still slightly shaken, complied in silence. He tilted her head to the side and he once again produced his flask. "This might sting, Swan. Close your eyes." And without warning, poured some of his rum on the wound.
"Ahh, shit!" she winced.
"Come now, you're a tough lass, I'm sure it's not all that..." He removed his scarf and dried the remains of blood and rum from her head, pressing hard against the wound. "Sit up now, Swan, keep your hand pressed tight against it."
Emma took her hand to the old, battered scarf and sat up, following him with her eyes as he sat in front of her, clasping his hand and hook like he always used to, elbows on his knees. "I knew you'd find me..." He smiled.
She sighed and shook her head. "It won't be long till they do as well, we have to move you out of here..." she pointed her hand at his 'attachment'. "... and we have to return that to Gold."
He smiled and shook his head. "I won't be returning anything to that man, love. He owes me more than I'll ever owe him now."
"Devlin, I can't help you if you break the law..." she pleaded.
Devlin sucked on his lower lip and chuckled. "The law..." he stood and walked to the other side of the room, pulling out dusty blankets and fiercely shaking them before returning to her and placing them at her side. "There is a difference between law and justice, love. The law has been after me forever simply for being who I am... so now..." He sat down again. "I am taking justice into my own hands and making my OWN law, one that I can follow in good conscience without betraying myself of my own code." He leaned in to her. "I find that when I take care of myself, and stop giving a damn about what everyone else wants, I usually get where I want to get."
"That doesn't make it right." She replied seriously. "Come back with me."
He grinned. "Come back? To what?" He shook his head. "To Gold twerking my bolts till I have no more capacity to even breathe? To being some... handicap, hired out of pity in a petrol station?" he pointed at his chest. "I am Captain Hook, leader of the Jolly Rogers! Most of the people in this town know who I am, darling, I won't let go of my ship without a fight."
"That's what I mean, you don't HAVE to fight!" Emma retorted. "You still have that! People are wondering where the hell you are!"
"People..." he spoke under his breath and raised his blue eyes to her. "And you? Have you been wondering as well?"
Emma closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm the sheriff, what do you think? Of course I have, it's my job to..."
"Ah, not good enough." He stood up and knocked the chair back, walking to the mantelpiece and leaning his remaining hand on it.
Emma huffed. "Devlin, what am I supposed to say?"
"The truth!" He shouted at her, pointing his hook at her. "You, of all people, know what it's like to be lied to! You of all people know how it feels to grow alone and not having anyone give a damn! You know what it's like to lose someone you love and you know damn well when a person is trying to lead you astray!" he walked to her and sat before her, almost pleading. "You of all people, the sheriff, have been the only person to see right through me, to know I'm not a bad man... Or wasn't..." He shook his head and looked to the floor. "I can't live like this, at the bidding and waking desire of an avaricious man, just trying to destroy me out of spite. I can't, I feel beleaguered and toiled by it, day in and day out. It's bad form..."
Emma grinned and took her free hand to his hair, touching it gingerly. "I know that. That's why I need you to do the right thing." She nodded. "You're right. I did wonder. I did worry. I like you, Devlin, I really do. But I can't help you if you decide to do something you will regret. Even in your own mind, I'm sure that that...'code' of yours marks a difference between what's right and what isn't. Please..." She begged. "Come with me... We'll figure out a way to deal with Gold. But for now, you have bigger fish to fry."
He sighed and leaned into her thigh. "A man at sea can handle his fish... just what kind of fish are we talking about, darling?"
She huffed. "That gang, for one..."
"Not afraid of them."
"You should be. They're out to get you."
He laughed. "Billy Bones have been after our bill for quite a while, love; Believe me, it's not the first time they've tried to steal our thunder."
"Devlin..." she raised his face to her with her hand. "Regina has Legwood's parole papers. She pretty much has him at her bidding." She swallowed. "They want to hurt you... and me, it seems. This isn't just about band rivalry."
He side grinned. "And you want to go back to that?"
"I do. My son is in the middle of it, my friends!" she frowned. "People I CARE about! I'm not letting them get in the line of fire for my sake."
He thought for a second. "Well, I certainly do have someone I care about." He raised his eyes up at her. "And I'll be damned if I were to leave you to face it alone..." he huffed. "But hear me: should they touch a single strand of your hair again... just one... I will forbear myself no longer."
She grinned and nodded. "They won't."
The storm was still raging outside. Devlin leaned his face on Emma's lap once again and they both remained silent for a few minutes before they spoke again.
"You never answered my query..." he mumbled.
"Which one?"
"Did you miss me?"
She grinned. "I suppose I did."
"Hmm." He breathed, and after a brief pause, mumbled again. "Not a day went by when I didn't think of you..."
"Good." She replied softly, still touching his head.
For the time, and with the storm blowing insanely outside, there was little else for them to do than to just sleep.
...
"I can't understand how there's five of you and two of them and they got away!" Regina hollered.
"They are sneaky..." Legwood retorted." Kragen came at me from nowhere..." He smirked. "But if I can get him face to face, I can and will pulverize him."
Regina walked to him defiantly. "And the Swan girl? What is your excuse for her, is she some sort of ninja or did she dig her nails in a little too hard?"
The tall, dark haired biker growled and turned. "He came at me before I completed the deed."
Regina sighed and sat down in her living room. "I should have taken matters into my own hands when I had the chance."
The man stomped after her, leaving his muddy trail behind him. "If I can get to the wench..." he hissed, "...He will crawl out after her, like the sandworm he is..."
She sneered at the muddy boot prints before taking a hand to her temple. "That won't be too hard now." She glanced at him. "She lives downtown, with that... sap, Mary Margaret. If you wait long enough, it will be very easy for you to take her."
"How?"
"Let's just say..." she narrowed her eyes and grinned. "She'll be catching up on her sleep pretty soon... and how hard can it be for you to just pick up a sleeping woman and take her away?"
The man chuckled. "And then can I have my way with her?"
Regina sneered. "I don't care what you do with her, as long as you take... them... out!"
"So I get the girl... then I get to crush Kragen and the Rogers... and you place us in all the best gigs and make us stars..."
Regina nodded. "That's the plan. You just show me his heart... that all I want. His... heart."
"Literally?"
"Oh yes."
The man side grinned with a vile sneer. "You are one sick-ass bitch... but I'll do it. And what do we get?"
"Well..." she sighed. "My protection. No one will ever know who did it. I might just have someone to pin it on; it is, after all, full moon."
He chuckled. "That's the last time Captain Hook weasels his charming old way into what should be ours..." the other bikers laughed and nodded. "We will be top of the bill, lads!"
...
Mary Margaret hoped she'd be able to keep that smile on her face for days and days to come; all that stopped with a sudden halt when Emma showed up the following morning with unbelievable company.
"Hi..." was all Emma could muster.
Mary Margaret's eyes went from her to Devlin and back to her. "Emma, what's...?"
"I know it looks wrong, love..." he held his hooked limb up, making the young teacher take two steps back. "...but I swear to you on my remaining hand that these arrangements are purely temporary..."
Wide-eyed, Mary Margaret grinned. "Emma... a word?"
Devlin grunted while Mary Margaret pulled Emma into the bathroom. "Okay, which part of "Regina will have your ass" did you not understand?"
"It's gotten much more complicated." Emma whispered. She looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "Regina hired a group of thugs to hurt either him or me."
"Wait, are you sure?" Mary Margaret shook her head. "Regina's not my favorite person in the world, but rreally, Emma that's quite an accusation!"
"I trust my gut." She showed Mary Margaret the wound on her head. "They did this. This ... guy, he smashed the window to my car and then tried to rip me out through it by pulling me by my hair."
Mary Margaret winced and took a hand to her mouth. "Oh, God, Emma!"
"He saved me... and he didn't have to."
"Devlin?"
"He's half the size, Mary Margaret, believe me, it took balls to stand up to that other guy!"
Mary Margaret sighed. "But... why would Regina want to hurt him?" She shrugged. "I mean, no offense, I can understand why she'd want to hurt you, but him?"
Emma shook her head. "Crazy stuff. Gold says he's the key to the future of this town and that every bit of torture he's put him through, all his debts and all the things he's had to do for Gold, were made to keep him in Storybrooke... I don't know what this is about, but I do sense that there's more to Devlin than meets the eye."
"What I sense..." Mary Margaret spoke in near a whisper, "Is that Regina and Gold are using you as pawns to get to each other. It's no secret they've been at each other's throats for ages."
"Yeah, why is that?"
"God knows... maybe because Gold for all his crappy treatment of people is probably the only person with enough power to say 'no' to her." Mary Margaret shook her head. "And you think they won't look for him here?"
"Not if I say I'm still out looking for him!"
"He's a friggin' rock star Emma, these things have a way of... spreading! Before you know it we'll have paparazzi hanging from the windows!"
Emma pressed her lips together. "Look, I know it's a liability, but really, he has nowhere to go. The guy just lost his left hand and is marked by a chain gang. Do you really think he'd do any better at Granny's?"
The sudden sound of a smashing cup made both of them leave the bathroom in a hurry. They found Devlin, looking slightly sheepish, holding a kettle in his only hand and a cup shattered on the floor.
"My cup!" Mary Margaret gasped.
Devlin winced. "I'm... awfully sorry there. Some cups do have suicidal tendencies..."
Mary Margaret's shocked demeanor brought a smile to Emma's face. "What are you doing, Dev?"
Devlin chuckled and looked down. "Just... wanted to make tea for everyone... sort of as a way to smoke the pipe of peace."
Emma's heart went out for him. "It's ok, it's only a cup... isn't it Mary Margaret?"
The pretty young brunette closed her mouth and exhaled through her nose. "Yeah. Just a cup. No problem."
Emma walked to him and took the kettle from him. "It'll take you a while to get used to doing things with one hand. So... How do you like it? Your tea, I mean." she turned and produced three cups from the cabinet.
Devlin's saddened eyes lightened up. "Black, if you have it... please. Two sugar and one milk..."
She still had a hard time believing this man was not British.
Mary Margaret grinned at Emma and gave her an understanding nudge. She then turned to Devlin. "Ok... I have basic rules here, and since you're a captain and you know a thing or two about rules, you'll have to abide." She cleared her throat. "Toilet seat? ALWAYS down. No smoking, no smashing things up... aside from my cup, and no loud music played after nine at night. Also, we each wash our own dishes and our own clothes and we don't leave our washed underwear to dry hanging by the shower tap. And above all... no girls! No... Bitches, no groupies, no fans, no crazy rock n' roll drunken binges and debauchery." She swallowed. "Deal'"
Emma grinned at the way Mary Margaret said the word "bitches", shriveling her tiny, pretty little nose. She was clearly out of her element here and her effort to deal with circumstances was indeed appreciated.
He grinned at her and winked his left eye. "Aye-aye, mam."
"Good. That settled, we'll talk about your sleeping accommodations. That couch is far too small, I think..."
Emma cleared her throat.
Dev pressed his lips tight together to stifle a laugh and lowered his widened eyes to the floor. Mary Margaret stared at Emma and her classic shocked expression returned together with a whisper of disbelief. "Noooo..."
"Oh, we'll keep it down, I promise!" He smiled.
Emma shot her eyes at him with a disbelieving frown, and then to Mary Margaret. "We won't 'keep it down' or anything, we'll just... share the bed." She grinned. "No... funny business. Right, Devlin?"
Devlin raised his eyebrow and chuckled. "Right..."
Mary Margaret sighed and shook her head. "Whatever. Emma, if you're making tea, might I have some chamomile?"
Emma nodded and went on to make tea, feeling Devlin's burning stare on her skin as Mary Margaret went upstairs into her room to try and wear the shock away under the benign influence of Grey's Anatomy. Devlin leaned forward. "No... funny business?" He whispered.
She looked at him. "No. At least not while she's here." She winked.
That brought the smile back to Devlin's face. "Well, she really didn't include 'no shagging the pretty blonde tenant' in her little rule book now, did she?"
Emma laughed and fixed tea. After taking a cup up to Mary Margaret, she returned downstairs to find Devlin perusing the fridge. "I think she does have rules about people picking at her food..." she giggled.
"Well, one of us has to go out to get something or order some take out, love, I'm starving..."
"Oh, wait..." she reached into her pocket. "I have this..."
Devlin picked up the bag with his left... hook. "What the bloody hell is this?"
She chuckled. "It's a turnover... or... what's left of it."
He held the bag on the tip of the hook and glared at the slightly crumbled pastry with suspicion. "Bloody hell... Will it bite if I try to eat it?"
She laughed. "Come on, it's all I got."
He looked at her and placed the odd pastry on the kitchen bar. He reached out and pulled her to him by the waist. "A little later, maybe... I can think of other ... edible things..."
"Really?"
"Aye, indeed I can."
"Like what?"
"Well, there's those lovely things, lining the circumference of your mouth, for one..."
She grinned, blushing. "Those might just bite if you try to eat them."
"Oh?" He giggled as he slowly narrowed the distance between their lips. "I suppose It'll be worth it if I take my chances..."
"You have no idea." She smiled back, closing her eyes, and allowed him to gently deposit a kiss, warm, supple and tender. It never ceased to amaze Emma how gentle he could be at that particular skill and yet how longing his touch felt to her. His arm was on her back and she could feel the cold steel of his hook through the silk of her blouse; his body fit in with hers so perfectly it was strange to believe they weren't actually a single person. The slight taste of rum tickled her pallet as he gently prodded her upper lip with the tip of his tongue and with a deep breath, he pulled her to him, the energy of the kiss suddenly shifting from mild and curious to yearning and craving, yet still slow and passionate.
After a few seconds, they pulled apart and he swallowed nervously, rubbing his rough, stubbed cheek against her face, his eyes closed. "You can't begin to imagine how I missed that..."
She grinned, her eyes closed, as she wrapped one arm around his back and another feeling the thick, black tresses of his head between her fingers. She took a step back and ran a hand down his face. "I know you're aching, Dev." She murmured. "I know it can't be easy, with what you have been through. But I need you to trust me; please, you can't go out there and try to get your way with Gold. It's not right."
He touched her cheek with one finger and pressed his lips together with a sigh. "I'll never be free, will I?"
"You will. I'll see to it."
He raised his eyes to her and grinned with a sad glare. "I don't know how to feel about what you're asking from me... but for you, I'll do it."
She grinned and reached out for his hook. He shuddered when she suddenly removed the brace , placing it on the counter and leaving the bandaged remains of his wrist visible. She touched his skin gently, hoping not to hurt him, and then raised her face to meet his visibly uncomfortable expression. With her other hand, she raised his face to hers and smiled kindly when he looked into her eyes. "Try something new, Devlin..." she whispered. "It's called trust."
His expression softened and the sight of a Devlin Kragen who was neither flirty nor cynical appeared before her. He only smiled a wide, perfect smile, and placing his hand on the back of her head, pulled her for another swift kiss, filled with promise, gratitude and... maybe something else. He grinned and nodded. "Perhaps I should call the lads... tell them I'm fine."
"Sure, just... omit your location. We have to keep you a secret as much as we can."
Emma went around the bar and handed him his cup of black tea. "Go on, eat the turnover with this. Call it suppertime."
With a relaxed grin, Devlin reached out for the little plastic container, tipped the crumbling pastry on a plate and took a sip from his tea before biting into the piece of bread.
Emma had her back turned to him. "I'll go to Gold tomorrow... I'll have a word with him regarding your debt. I don't know, maybe we can negotiate a..."
THUD.
When Emma turned, she found Devlin no longer standing, but lying on the floor.
"Dev? DEV!" she ran around and touched his face. It was cold as ice. All sorts of thoughts crossed her mind; a blood clot from his recent operation, perhaps? Some disease he'd picked up at that old cabin? The last thing she wanted was Graham part two.
"MARY MARGARET!" She shouted.
Her friend rushed down the stairs. "What happe... Oh my god, is he ok?"
"Call 911! He's barely breathing!" Emma replied, flustered, holding his dark head in her hands. She caressed his hair. "Don't do this to me Dev, come on..."