Chapter Three
The rocking of the ship woke Killian slowly, the familiar movement making him feel calm and at peace. After all this time it still mesmerised him, and it, more than anything, was what truly felt like home. Without opening his eyes he brought his hand up to run his fingers through his hair and rub his hand over his face. He propped himself up on his elbows, the blankets gathering around his waist, his sigh turning into a low groan as the movement triggered the vicious pounding in his head. Oh yes. That.
He was no stranger to hangovers, and thankfully this one seemed to leave him with only a splitting headache and not a queasy stomach. Lowering himself back onto the bed, he let his mind drift, relaxing to the feel of his ship cutting easily through the waves on what he could tell was a clear day.
Realising what his thoughts had just meant, Killian sat up abruptly, wincing as the movement jolted his sore head. He'd been a pirate for over three hundred years, captaining this very ship for the most of that, and he could tell the conditions without even thinking on it. He could tell the difference between a quiet swell and a choppy ocean, a storm and hurricane. He knew the difference between being anchored at sea and docked in a harbour. And he definitely could tell the difference between being anchored and on the move.
And right now, his ship was definitely moving.
Pushing aside his pain, Killian made an effort to still his rush, dressing calmly and deliberately; one did not look imposing and in control when yesterday's clothes were hastily thrown on. The extra time also helped in arranging his irritation. Deftly closing the final clasp on his vest, he surveyed himself quickly in the small mirror by his dresser, hoping no one would notice the bags under his eyes, or their redness.
The air was cooler today, the slight chill in the air very welcome on his cheeks. He let himself enjoy the feeling of the wind in his hair for just a moment before he hardened his face and stalked up to the helm.
'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?'
Baelfire stood with his hands on the wheel, Emma by his side. He allowed himself a moment to drink her in - she looked magnificent, her cheeks red and hair tousled from the wind. But she also looked tired. He forced that thought down, telling himself that it was no longer any concern of his but not quite believing it.
He forced his attention back to Baelfire, who cleared his throat and shifted his grip on the spokes slightly. 'They told me that the plan is to find Tinkerbelle and convince her to open a portal for us. That's how you left last time, isn't it?'
'Aye,' Killian said hesitantly.
'Well I agree that it's the best chance we've got, but none of us wants to be here longer than we have to. I tried to wake you up at dawn but you were dead to the world.' Blinking a few times to clear his head, Killian looked up at the sky and saw, to his surprise, that it was a lot later than he thought, almost noon. How late had he stayed up drinking? 'I thought we could steer in shifts' Baelfire continued, the caution clear in his voice, his expression indifferent. 'You know that I'm up to it.'
He briefly considered denying him, just to be spiteful, but he knew that wouldn't help anything. And strangely, the memory of Baelfire's joy at manning his ship when he was a lad was tugging at his mind. 'Aye, lad, you learnt from the best,' Killian jested, the words coming out automatically. He was off-balance, and felt best hiding that behind his cockiness. Crossing his arms, he raised a eyebrow. 'You should have asked me however, before you decided to commandeer my ship.'
Baelfire shrugged noncommittally. Killian hoped that he remembered enough of the pirate captain to know that although he had spoken lightly, the threat was very much there in his words. The look on Emma's face said that she'd heard it. 'I did try,' Baelfire pointed out. He nodded to the wheel. 'If you don't mind taking over now that you're well rested, I might go get some rest myself before I take my turn again tonight.'
Killian nodded and took the wheel as Baelfire let go. Baelfire put his arm around Emma's waist and began to lead her away. A low growl escaped his throat involuntarily at the idea of someone else's hands on her, but he covered it by clearing his throat loudly. 'Swan. A word.'
He spoke without thinking, but he was unwilling to let himself avoid this. Emma stiffened, then turned around slowly and took a few slow steps back to him. She was still too far away, always too far away, but with Baelfire frowning at him he swallowed his suggestion to come closer. After a few seconds Baelfire seemed to shrug it off and disappeared below deck.
She wasn't looking at him. He took the opportunity to stare unashamedly and suddenly all he wanted to do was touch her. He gripped the wheel tighter instead, but couldn't take his eyes off of her.
He knew the moment that she gathered her courage and steeled herself; he saw the deep breath, the clench of her jaw and fists. 'What do you want, Hook?'
Back to Hook, I see. He raised an eyebrow at her but let it pass. He had a thousand things to say to her and they all essentially boiled down to "What in the devil's name was going on?" Yesterday he was confident enough in their unspoken feelings for each other to trust her not to hurt him, but things were different now. Asking her outright what was happening in her head would be the easy option, but he had lived a very long time and was very adept at closing his heart off.
'I can't say I thought that I could be replaced so quickly, love,' he said, narrowing his eyes a little at her. 'I hadn't realised you missed your perfect happy little family quite so much.'
She flinched away from him, turning so that he couldn't see her face. It only lasted a moment before she turned back and walked up to him, standing just out of arms reach from where he stood with his good hand on the wheel. He'd have thought the redness to her cheeks was from the wind if it hadn't been for the anger in her eyes. 'You do not get to be angry at me for being happy that my son's father is alive!' she hissed at him, pressing her clenched fists against her thighs. 'After everything that's happened, all of the evil that he's been exposed to, having his father back is what he needs.'
'He could -' Killian swallowed his words, swearing inwardly. He could have had me. He knew that the idea of being the boy's father was very likely spawned by his history with Baelfire himself being revisited, but he knew that Emma would find both ideas ridiculous. Especially now that Henry had his own father back in his life. He stepped closer to her, his arm extended behind him slightly to keep the wheel in hand. 'Stop pretending that this is about your boy,' he said quietly, scowling at her.
She stared back at him defiantly. 'This is about Henry. I'm trying to do what's best for him. He only wants his family back together. This is what he wants.'
Killian felt those words like a blade in his chest. 'This is what he wants? Is his father being alive not enough for him? What about what you want?' With that he reached out with his left arm and caught his hook around her upper arm, pulling her towards him. She tried to pull away but only succeeded in twisting her body so that her back was to his chest. He moved quickly, turning so that he pinned her between his body and the wheel of the ship. He heard her gasp as her breath went out of her but he didn't give her time to recover, pushing her hard against the wood.
'Get off me,' she snarled.
Rubbing his cheek against her bare neck, he breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to fully enjoy the smell that was just purely her. She struggled against him but he knew she wasn't really trying - they'd fought before, and he knew that she could free herself if she truly wanted to. Her hands gripped the wheel in front of her, knuckles white. 'What do you want?' he murmured, his lips brushing her skin with his words before he kissed her neck hotly. 'What do you want from me, Emma?'
Kissing his way slowly up to the skin just behind her ear, he switched hands, taking the wheel with his hook and running his right hand down her body, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and using it to press her even closer to him. Gods, the feel of her body on his was almost making his knees weak. His fingers found the hem of her shirt and disappeared underneath, working softly against her bare skin. He felt her tense under his touch and took his hand slightly higher.
'Is this not enough for you?' he whispered fervently. 'Do you really want him to touch you like I do? Can he make you feel like I can?'
'Stop,' she whimpered, even as she pressed herself back against him. He felt himself stirring against her despite himself. He slipped his hand beneath her bra and tweaked her nipple, thrilling as she let out a small whimper. Removing his hand, he went back to running his fingers across her stomach.
'Tell me you don't want me and I'll stop,' he offered. He knew he sounded cold but couldn't find it in himself to care. He was angry at her for denying him, at himself for being too late. At Baelfire for being alive. 'Tell me that you don't want me to touch you, that you don't love the way I make you feel.'
She moaned softly, her body shaking, letting her head fall back against his chest as he ran just his fingertips below the waist of her pants. He was getting his way, he was making her want him, but he also wanted her to hurt. Returning his mouth to her neck, he kissed her gently at first then bit down hard, sucking at her skin at the same time, intent on marking her.
She yelped and twisted violently, causing his mouth to break apart from her skin. Before he could get a better grip on her he felt her elbow hard against his chest and he stumbled back a step, which gave her enough room to jump away from him. She paced to the side of the ship before spinning on her heel and storming back up to him, glaring at him but not saying anything.
They stared each other down for what felt like minutes, both of them trying to catch their breath. She didn't look tired anymore but she was no less dishevelled, and as glorious as ever. He suddenly wanted to reach out to her, to ease the anger in her eyes. But he also wanted to shake her. He knew she was worried about Henry but surely his mother's happiness would be more important to the boy than whether his parents were together. And they had been so close to happiness, surely it wasn't out of reach just yet if she still reacted to him like this. If she truly wanted to be with Baelfire then she would have spoken of him when she thought he was dead, wouldn't she? If she truly wanted Neal then there wouldn't be a glaze of lust marring the anger in her eyes right now.
The anger faded to uncertainty. He opened his mouth to speak, to start trying to take back some of his anger, but when she looked down to her feet he paused. Suddenly she looked... sad. 'Emma,' he began, gentling his voice.
She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head slightly away from him. 'The last time we saw each other, I told Neal that I loved him.'
She spoke quietly, but he heard her over the roar of the ocean. He heard her in his bones.
For the first time since Baelfire had left Killian looked away from her, not wanting her to see what he knew must have been clear on his face. He was a fool. He'd known that Baelfire's death had hurt her but he'd assumed that she'd been upset for Henry's sake. Baelfire had told him last night that he loved her, but if she truly still loved him too...
Nothing that he had thought she felt for him had been real. He dragged his hand across his face, digging his fingers into his skin. His head had started pounding again. He knew she was a guarded person but he thought that he'd been breaking through slowly, and the last time they had been together it hadn't felt just like frustration, like simple lust. It had felt like more; it had felt real. And he'd thought he'd seen that realness in her eyes when she'd cried out his name, his real name. But, no.
Had he just been projecting his own hopes and feelings back at himself?
She loved Baelfire.
'Hook.'
He didn't turn back to her. He couldn't. His bitterness overwhelmed him. How could he have thought that she'd really want him? How could he have thought she'd want him for Henry? Even after Baelfire had appeared with Mulan yesterday a small part of him had held on, sure that they just needed to talk about it, that he had nothing to worry about. That she'd stay with him.
Stay with him? he thought darkly. He'd never had her.
She walked around him to stand on his other side, trying to catch his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her reach out her hand hesitantly toward him. 'Killian?'
Before her hand touched his arm he spun toward her, catching her wrist in his grip. She sucked in her breath as he stepped up to her, so close that her breasts brushed against his chest with every stuttering breath she took. Was that fear in her eyes? His mind automatically reached for concern but he replaced it with a very firm, Good. Let her fear him. He wanted her to hurt like he was hurting, to feel as betrayed by him as he felt by her. Killian Jones couldn't do a thing to hurt her, but he was going to give her Captain Hook and the captain didn't care about anybody. 'Leave,' he said quietly, forcing calmness into his voice.
She stared up at him, wide eyed. 'Killian,' she whispered.
His calm snapped, replaced by a sudden wave of anger. 'Leave!' he snarled, pushing her arm away violently.
Emma cradled her wrist against her chest and backed away slowly. Her eyes looked red, her face pale. 'I -'
'Captain? Gramps says the Jolly looks like she's running off course.'
Killian squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before turning toward the owner of the voice, young Henry himself. The boys eyes darted between his mother and the pirate and - even though he knew how perceptive the lad was, that he was being judged - he couldn't find even a fake smile to present to him. 'Right you are, lad,' he said, trying to put a little warmth into his voice but failing miserably. He stepped back up to the wheel, which had been knocked slightly askew when he'd moved to grab Emma, and wrapped his hand and his hook around the spokes, straightening it back into the correct position.
Emma walked up to Henry and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. 'Why don't you see if Mary Margaret needs any help organising lunch, Henry? I'll be along in a minute.'
Henry looked up to where Killian stood at the wheel. 'I'd much rather have more pirate lessons,' he said hopefully, nodding his head pointedly toward the pirate. Killian felt his heart lift a little at the suggestion, momentarily eager to spend some more time with the boy, but then the reality of the situation sank back in and his heart dropped again. What could the lad want with him now that his father was alive? Emma had made that abundantly clear.
Sending a warning look his way, Emma turned Henry around and pushed him gently toward the other end of the ship. 'Later, kid.'
Henry left reluctantly, sending another curious glance up at Killian before disappearing below deck. Emma was on him immediately. 'How dare you treat me like that in front of my son?' she hissed at him.
Rolling his eyes, he turned a little towards her but kept his head forward, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. 'How could I have possibly known that the boy was there? He might find that a tad scarring if he saw the whole show. Go on, Swan, join Henry and enjoy your big happy family,' he said sarcastically. 'I got you Henry back, I've found you a way home, and now that your lover's alive it's clear that you've got no use left for me.'
From the way she stiffened he thought that she was going to hit him, but her fists stayed clenched at her sides. 'Just leave us alone, Hook,' she said quietly, the warning clear in her voice. She moved back and he waited until she had turned before he let himself look at her.
Gods, how did she do this to him? He almost felt sick from the way his emotions kept jumping back and forth. Just before she took the first step down to the main deck, he spoke without thinking. 'What can he do for you that I can't?'
There was no innuendo behind his words, no sexual intent, and he could tell by the way that her shoulders slumped and her head dropped that she knew his meaning was deeper than that. Had his voice sounded as desperate to her as it had to him? He hadn't had a reason to hate the vulnerability she'd inspired in him before.
Slowly, she turned around to face him, squaring her shoulders but keeping her distance. For a few very long seconds they just stared at each other. 'Neal is safe for us,' she said eventually, her arms coming across her body so her hands gripped the opposite elbow.
He narrowed his eyes at her, his lip twisting in confusion. 'And I can't keep you safe?'
'That's not what I -' she began quietly, as if to herself, then stopped. Running her fingers through her hair, she looked... defeated. 'Not in the way I need,' she said instead before turning and almost running down the steps, disappearing from sight before he could respond.
All he could think was, What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?
AN: Thank you guys for the support, I'm pretty impressed to have as many followers as I do with only two chapters so far, especially some of my fave fic writers! I hope this chapter was okay, it came out a little harder than the others. Sometimes I find it hard to really focus characters that aren't my own creation, since all I have to go on is what we see on screen. I know what I want them to do, but is that what they'd actually really do?
Next chapter we'll finally see what's going on in Emma's head. It'll probably end up quite a bit longer but hopefully I'll have it up soon.
