"It's alright," Henry whispered and gave her another reassuring smile. Emma nodded and pushed the door open. The group had been waiting for her; they watched her expectantly as she gave the 'okay' nod to open the chest once the door had been locked. She kept her eyes focused on the group, not even daring looking over at the hospitable bed. Thankfully Snow and David knew to stand around the bed to obstruct her direct line of sight of the body. "So as it turns out, y'all did end up leavin' a little somethin' behind in Neverland." The two Lost Boys struggled to unbolt the multitude of locks that secured the chest. Emma unconsciously backed into the wall, bringing Henry along with her.
"Just warnin' you folks, he's a bit skiddish. He won't bite nobody. It took us boys all night to get the damn thing into this here box. Tink found him wandering about in the woods all in a huff." John looked up for a moment before returning to the stubborn lock. "Tink says he must have been knocked clean out of his body when Pan did what he did. There wasn't room in there for the two of them, so he rode that blast outta that cave without a thought in his mind." John unbolted the final heavy lock and looked up to the two other Lost Ones, "You boys ready?"
They gave the nods. On the count of three, the boys heaved open the heavy chest. A dark shaded figure leaped up and slammed right into the ceiling of the room. Everyone gasped and backed away as far as the walls of the room would allow. Another fucking shadow? Really?
It fell down onto the tiled floor and laid there for a moment. Its arms were long enough to stretch out and reach the legs of the kneeling Lost Ones (obviously not a child). The shadow lifted its head and observed the group of terrified gawking expressions. Its head slowly scanned through the line of faces until it froze on Emma. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the shadow's ominous silhouette of a head stayed focused on her. There was something vaguely familiar about it; being in its presence was unnerving. After a minute or so of uncomfortable silence and stillness, the shadow leaped up onto its feet. Flailing his arms to keep balance, the shadow knocked a nearby metal medical tray off the counter and sent it clattering onto the ground. Once the shadow found his feet after a moment or so, he took a small step toward Henry and Emma.
It was at that moment that Emma looked down and noticed how one of the shadow's hands wasn't shaped as a hand; instead of fingers it had a single curve, a hook.
The shadow closed in the distance between them. He reached out for Emma, just as Henry did, and pushed his hand through her closest arm. He didn't pull away; he keep his fingers extended through Emma's body as if it was supposed to be some comforting gesture, as if he were trying to tell her not to be afraid, I won't hurt you. Despite his gentle nature Emma didn't budge. Her eyes were wide with divergent feelings of hope and apprehension, unsure of how she should react.
Henry's breathing was gradually picking up. His anxiety flared at the all too familiar and horrific sight of another shadow figure. David quickly moved close by Emma's side and reached out for Henry, "C'mon buddy. Let's get you out of here."
"Emma," Snow finally broke the silence in the room. The shadow flinched at the sound of her name.
Emma's lips parted to finally let in a great gasp of breath that she was trying to keep down. The shadow tilted its head to the side in an effort to read her. "Hook?" His name escaped out of her mouth in a barely audible whisper.
"You're facin' the wrong way!" John impatiently yelled at the shadow. The silhouette turned and observed the other half of the room. On the other side of the ward, a machine buzzed softly without a single beep. The stiff white sheets were folded cleanly over the body, unturned and unwrinkled. The shades had been pulled down over the window, though there were still small streaks of sunlight that shined down onto his ghostly white and vacant face. "Hell Captain, you're slower than maple syrup on a cold winter's mornin'! Go on!"
The shadow took tentative steps away from Emma towards the body. He sunk his hand into the frame of the bed, linking his shadow finger to his actual finger. Snow grabbed onto Emma's forearm nervously. The machine set up beside the bed suddenly let out a loud noise indicating a single heartbeat. Encouraged by the electronic beep, the shadow plunged back into his body.
The machine went wild; the red light flashed as it let out an obnoxiously loud alarm. The pulse monitor began to flash with new rising and falling lines. Emma held her breath and paced over to his bedside, hoping to God that this would work. It had to. Snow rubbed her daughter's hand and watched Killian's pale skin began to flush. The three boys stood at the other end of the bed and observed with innocent curiosity.
Five minutes had passed of nothing but a lively heart rate and flush cheeks. There was no movement beneath his eyelids; no indication that anything was happening. The group was growing worried. It only took Henry a couple of seconds to regain consciousness. This felt like forever. "Hook," Emma demanded impatiently. There was no response, no reaction in his façade to indicate that he heard her. She grabbed both of his shoulders and lightly shook him. "Wake up!"
"This 'aint right… Tink said he'd wake right up," John frowned.
"Unless…" Snow mumbled in the midst of her thoughts. She looked up at her daughter expectantly. "Do you want to give it another try?"
Emma pressed her lips together tensely and looked back down at him. What other options did she really have? It was the blind leading the blind at this point and she wasn't about to pass off any suggestions. Carefully, she sat down onto the bed beside his limp figure. Pressing one hand over his body and into the plush mattress, Emma lowered herself over him until her lips met his. They were soft and unresponsive. His prickly chin rubbed against hers, giving Emma an ache of nostalgia. She arched her mouth and pressed more insistently against his soft lips.
As the nostalgia flooded her, a voice echoed in her memory, his voice. They were whispers that came as reassurance to her in the dead of night: reassurance that he'd stay with her. Lying there in that beautiful haven, she had just relaxed her arm around him. Her body was still overwhelmed with the euphoric sensations, the glow of aftersex. Her head was cradled in the nook of his arm. Her eyes were opening and closing. Exhaustion was quickly overcoming the two of them. He stayed awake through it all, brushing a finger along her cheek and whispering soothing words to her that seemed almost lyrical. It wasn't difficult to fall asleep right then and there. She fought it, just to stay awake and enjoy this time she had with him alone. Minutes passed and Emma kept fighting her urge to sleep. He eventually caught on, and with a grin, leaned in and met her fatigued lips.
She thought it was still part of the memory. It was only when Snow gasped loudly that Emma focused back into reality. His lips were alive and fervently scouring hers. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her over his body; his lips curved into smile against hers. His gruff voice purred into her mouth, "Emma."
He sat up and made it possible for Emma to straddle his torso. Her tongue pressed deep into his mouth, awakening every last sleeping nerve. Another moment passed before he pulled away and waited patiently to see those beautiful green eyes. She gasped in a heavy breath of air before finally taking the chance to look at him. And there they were; those two beautiful sea blue storms staring back.
"Well gee wilikers," John laughed, "we'll leave y'all to it then."
Snow laughed and grabbed Killian's good hand, "Welcome back, Hook." He pulled away from Emma to smile at Snow. "Thank you, highness. This is quite the welcome," he turned back and playfully kissed the tip of Emma's nose. Laughing back tears, Emma pushed back the hair that had fallen over his face.
Snow took a step back, already watery-eyed with emotion. "I'm going to go fill everyone in. You two just… stay here," she grinned affectionately and opened the door. "John, why don't you and your friends come along? I'm sure you boys are hungry." At the mere mentioning of food, the three boys eagerly rushed out of the room after Snow. The door soon shut, filling the room with sweet silence.
"Henry," he muttered worryingly. "Did the lad make it?"
She nodded, "Yeah he made it home. I think you just scared the hell out of him a second ago, but he's safe."
"Did I not give you my word that he would be?"
She glared at him, remembering her anger. "Why the hell did you do it? It was my responsibility to kill Pan, not yours," she muttered weakly.
"Emma..."
"No, it was my choice. You could have died. You should have died..."
He lifted a finger to her lips in an effort to silence her. "Do you honestly think I would stand idly by and allow him to take your life? Just like that?"
"Yeah," she swallowed weakly.
He leaned his forehead against hers, letting their breaths fall into sync. He chuckled, "I don't think so, love. You have a family, a son… a life full of meaning and importance. I had nothing, not a soul in the world that would mourn my passing."
Emma shook her head and frowned. Warm breaths of life danced against Emma's cheeks, serving as a sweet reminder that he was alive. He was here, with her. "Killian, you're wrong. You have me."
Just saying his name would have been enough. His lips crashed against hers and basked in the spark that ignited in his chest. He leaned back onto the bed, pulling her down on top of him. As they entangled their limbs and continued to indulge the other, Emma heard the words slip out. The simple words were breathed deep down into her throat so the intention would never be forgotten. I love you. Emma, I love you so much.
The End
Hey readers! I wanted to thank all of you for the reviews, follows, favorites and just for keeping tabs on the story. When I wrote the first chapter, I intended it to be a one-shot. Coming up with an alternative Peter Pan concept was a lot of fun and I had a blast making him into such a twisted villain for you to despise. I'm excited to see what kind of Peter Pan the writers of the show create after writing this. Again, I can't fully stress my gratitude for all the support you've given me!
- J