Emma finds the room with the communications system a few hours later, and for the first time since Killian started feeling sick, she feels a surge of hope.

Though finding the communication system had been their sole reason for trekking to the spaceliner, it's been the farthest thing from Emma's mind. But now that she's found it she can't help but feel like it's the answer to everything. If she can make contact with someone back home, or send out a distress signal then help could very well be here by nightfall. She knows her parents would tear through space and time to reach her, sending their fastest ships. Ships that would undoubtedly have medical supplies.

Medicine that could save Killian.

Letting out a strangled noise that sounds something between a sob and a cry of joy Emma rushes further into the room, tripping over her own feet in her haste.

But with each step forward her excitement slowly slips away, and the stifling feeling of hopelessness, that has been all too familiar these past couple of days, returns in full force.

Slowing to a stop Emma takes a moment to really look at the room she's just stepped into—and it's torn apart.

At first it's nothing new, chairs, pieces of metal, and other random objects are strewn across the room, just like how most of the spaceliner looks. But upon further inspection Emma notices that large portions of the room are charred. Blackened metal spreads like a stain across most of the walls and across the various panels of technology filled tables.

Emma's eyes scan the ruined room frantically until they find the culprit. Melted wires lay twisted and frayed at the base of the worst of the damage.

An electrical fire has left the room burnt and useless.

Walking slowly to the communications panel Emma runs her fingertips across the singed and half melted array of buttons and wires. There's no need to even try to turn it on. She can tell just from looking at it that it's beyond hope. It won't work.

Emma stands motionless staring at the charred remains of what had once been their hope for going home—but she barely registers what the loss of being able to send out a distress signal will mean for them, too consumed by what this means for Killian. Getting off the planet is nothing if she can't leave it with him.

A strange mix of anger and sorrow stirs within her chest, boiling over until Emma kicks at the closest piece of fallen debris and yells out in frustration. Searching for the damned communications system is what got Killian hurt in the first place—and it had all been for nothing.

Absolutely nothing. And she finds raging at the useless object easier than the alternative, easier than letting the tears burning at the back of her eyes escape. For she fears that if she starts crying again she may never stop.

So with her back stiff Emma leaves the communications room without a backwards glance. Lingering is not going to make it work, and she refuses to waste any more time on something that's not going to help Killian.

It's not much later that Emma becomes convinced that the planet is purposefully trying to take everything away from her.

Her flashlight has been growing dimmer for a while but when it finally gives out she almost collapses to the floor in despair.

"No," she mutters in disbelief as the light flickers a few times before sputtering out completely. "No. Come on, please, no." She hits it against her hand repeatedly, desperately trying to jolt it back to life.

But nothing happens.

A tiny sob catches in her throat, but other than that Emma remains silent, staring blankly into the darkness. With trembling hands she places the flashlight into the pack and tries to keep herself calm. She'll figure out what to do—she has to.

She'll go back, check on Killian and then reevaluate from there.

Her fingers trace along the walls as she makes her way back. Touch the only sense she can rely on inside the endless abyss of the spaceliner. Soon enough the thick all-encompassing darkness is replaced by the shadowed light of the first hallway her and Killian had stepped foot in, the opening in the ship's hull a shining light beckoning her to the outside world.

The sun is just barely past midday when she steps out into the open air, a small blessing as it's always easier to find her way back to camp in the daylight.

But not even the light of the sun can stop the overwhelming fear that grips her entire body every time she walks up to Killian's prone form. Terror that this time she'll be too late. Dread that doesn't completely leave even when she sees the shallow rise and fall of his labored breathing.

Completing her ritual of doing all she can to stave off the fever and keep him hydrated Emma begins tracing the contours of his face with her fingers, stroking his cheekbones as a means to comfort herself as much as him.

"I don't know what to do," she whispers to him, voice shaking. "I don't know what to do, and I can't lose you." Tears that she'd been trying to keep at bay while in the spaceliner flow freely now, trailing down her cheeks until they land on his chest like a soft rainfall. "I can't find it," she sobs, "but please just stay. Please stay and tell me what to do."

Wiping at her eyes Emma lies down to rest her head against his chest, but only cries harder when the heat of his fever quickly warms her own skin.

She stays there until her tears slow and her breathing calms, and it's while listening to his heartbeat that she feels the familiar sensation of the air humming. Her skin tingling as hairs on her arm stand on end. Closing her eyes Emma tries to ignore it, begging whatever it is about this planet to just stop. But the buzzing increases until it's a drone that rattles deep within her bones.

Sitting up Emma furrows her brows as she examines her tingling skin. Her arms appear normal but her eyes widen the second they take in her hands.

Resting in her palms is the softest traces of light that pulsates in time to the humming of the air. Emma gasps at the unintentional display of her magic, staring at her glowing hands until she realizes that the buzzing of the air and the resulting tingling of her skin is not unlike the prickling warmth she feels with her own magic.

Emma's heartbeat quickens with excitement and for the first time in days she feels herself smiling. Focusing on the humming air she experiments with drawing on the energy it's providing. Concentrating on her hands she tries to summon more of her own magic. The light in her palms suddenly shines twice as bright and Emma can't help but laugh with complete elation.

Scrambling for Killian's injured hand, Emma quickly removes the bandages and gently rests his arm in her lap. Hovering both hands above the red and swollen gash she takes a deep breath and once again focuses on the air's peculiar energy, using it to waken and warm her magic.

She almost cries again when the familiar thrumming in her veins spreads and seeps into her hands, translating into a bright light that radiates from her palm to Killian's. It's with a relief deeper than she's ever known that Emma watches as the angry red lines of infection fade from Killian's arm and the wound closes, leaving his skin flawless and injury free.

With a laugh that sounds suspiciously close to a sob Emma lets her magic simmer out as she grabs Killian's hand and repeatedly runs her thumb across his palm.

She healed him.

Still holding onto him, Emma rests the back of her other hand against his forehead and sighs with relief at the already significantly cooler temperature of his skin

She knows he's going to be okay now—she can't explain it but somehow she knows. It's as if the deepest place within her is suddenly at ease, reassured that he's going to live. It's an odd feeling; she's spent the last three days on the precipice of absolute fear and anxiety, her sheer exhaustion and frayed emotions threatening to knock her over at any moment. But now it's almost like the air is lighter, the ground beneath her steadier—and it takes her a moment to catch her bearings.

Still rubbing her thumb along the line where his cut had been, Emma allows herself to simply stare at him, let's herself soak in the reality that he's not going anywhere. That she healed him.

But she can only ignore her lack of sleep for so long, and within minutes her body is wilting, her eyes refusing to stay open. The adrenaline that's kept her going for the last few days doesn't linger, and as a result she can hardly hold herself up.

With a contented sigh Emma crawls beneath the blankets and snuggles in next to Killian. Curling her small frame around him. And with her head resting against his chest and her arm wrapped securely across his stomach, Emma closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep with ease.

-CS-

Killian knows something is off when Liam appears. But he can't find it within him to care when his brother is here.

And oh how he's missed him.

But Liam doesn't say much, just hushes him and tells him to rest. And it's against his will that Killian's eyes close, but his eyelids are too heavy and his limbs feel too thick, and as much as he wants to stay here, to stay with Liam, sleep claims him.

Liam is gone when he drags his eyes open again.

This time he welcomes sleep. Seeks it even. Anything to ease the newly reawakened sting in his heart.

It's hot. Much too hot. He's being scorched, but his muscles are too heavy, too weak to do anything about it.

Emma's gone. She'd been there before, taken away some of the burning. But she's no longer here.

She'll be back. She's always coming and going, coming and going. Always carrying things. So many things. But she always comes back.

The last time he sees her in his burning haze she's emptying things from his pack, her cheeks tear stained. He tries to call out to her, but she doesn't hear. But then again maybe he never actually said anything, maybe his voice is like his muscles—unresponsive. He wants to see her, wants to see the green of her eyes, but sleep drags him under again before he gets the chance.

Killian knows something is different this time when he opens his eyes. His body feels stiff but not heavy, not so thick that he can't move.

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he becomes aware of a new weight on his chest, but he recognizes the familiar pressure instantly. Smiling to himself he looks down to see a tousle of blonde hair resting against him comfortably.

Lifting the arm that isn't tucked beneath her, Killian softly brushes back some of her hair in order to better see her face. She scrunches her nose against his feather light touch and slowly blinks her eyes open.

"Good morning," he whispers, his voice gruff from a lack of use. "Or should I say good evening, as the sun is actually setting."

She gives him a soft smile before blinking her eyes a few times, still not fully awake. It's a lovely sight, like watching the sun rise, the jade of her eyes as striking as any morning sky.

It takes a minute for her eyes to focus and find clarity, but when they do they widen as she jolts up to a sitting position quicker than he can inhale. He misses her warmth immediately.

"You're awake!" she gasps.

"Aye, I am," he croaks, before trying to clear his throat from whatever is blocking it. Emma stares at him with a surprising intensity, her eyes soaking in every detail, and she's biting her lip as though trying to keep some emotion in check.

Killian furrows his brow at the slight tremble of her lip and takes a moment to really look at her properly for the first time since he woke up. Both her face and her shirt a streaked with dirt, stains covering a shirt he could have sworn was perfectly clean the other day. Her eyes are red, exhaustion clearly written across her face, and the purple shadows under her eyes testify to little, if any, sleep.

"Emma?" he asks concerned. "What—"

"You were sick." She interrupts, reaching for the canteen behind her without looking at it and bringing it to his lips like she's done it a thousand times.

He takes it from her and swallows a long draught. "How long?" He asks with a slightly clearer voice.

"About three days." There is a slight catch in her voice that breaks his heart, and he can see her take a deep breath, controlling her emotions. "Your hand…it got infected. And I couldn't get my magic to work and I-I couldn't find any medicine." She takes another shaky breath and reaches to intertwine her fingers with his. "You were just so sick, and… and I was losing you." She whispers the last bit, raw and intense.

"Hey," he soothes, giving her hand a gentle tug to pull her closer. She all but collapses into his arms, burying her face against his neck, and he both hears and feels her quiet sob. "I'm right here," he murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "I'm not going anywhere."

He rocks her back and forth for a moment while she calms, and when she finally pulls away from his embrace it's only slightly, just enough so that she can look him in the eye.

"Three days," he repeats incredulously, lifting his hand and using his thumb to wipe away a smear of dirt along the apple of her cheek. "What about you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She tries to give him a reassuring smile, but her voice is coated in fatigue. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow at her, which only causes her to sigh and shake her head. "I promise I'm fine. All that matters is that you're okay now." She reaches for his hand and holds it palm up between them.

Her fingertips leave soft trails along the lines of his palm, and he looks down to see that her fingers glide across perfect smooth skin. Killian's breath catches and he stares in wide eyed amazement at the complete lack of injury. He may have been out of it for three days, but unless he's much mistaken his hand should not have healed that much.

"Your magic." It's the only explanation for why he doesn't even have a scar. "I thought you said you couldn't get it to work?"

"I couldn't," she affirms, and Killian tilts his head in confusion. "But the planet… remember the humming air I told you about? The buzzing that you couldn't feel?" Killian nods his head once but remains quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I-I don't know how to explain it. The air, it had this energy that helped me access my magic, helped me heal you."

She's got a far off look in her eyes, and though Killian finds the whole situation as remarkable as she does, he files the information away to think about later. Concentrating now on the exhausted woman in front of him.

"Sounds to me," he says before pressing a sweet kiss to her lips in order to pull her from her thoughts, "like you were bloody brilliant as always. How many times have you saved me now?"

She smiles at him and nuzzles her nose against his, keeping their foreheads pressed together. "I wouldn't survive here without you," she breathes, her voice hardly a whisper.

"By the sound of it you survived at least three days, and kept me alive." He lowers his voice to match hers and brushes the backs of his fingers against her cheekbone.

"That's not what I mean." She presses herself a little closer to him, and before he can utter words of reassurance she's leaning into kiss him again—soft, slow, and with just a hint of desperation.

"You need to eat something," she says a little breathlessly as she extracts herself from his embrace. She goes to stand but Killian stops her by wrapping his fingers gently around her wrist.

"Emma, I'll get it. You look exhausted."

"No. Please, you still need to rest." Her eyes hold the same hint of desperation that was in her kiss, and it's her slight look of panic that keeps Killian from insisting he get up to do it. When she seems satisfied that he's going to stay in their makeshift bed, Emma finishes hauling herself to her feet.

He can see her exhaustion—it's in the way she trembles slightly as she stands, the way she reaches out a hand to keep her balance, and in how she bites her lip too hard as she sways before finding stability. It takes everything within Killian to keep from getting up to help her. But it's obvious that she's as emotionally drained as she is physically, and if letting her take care of him is going to make her feel better, then Killian will wait and watch with anxious eyes and muscles ready to spring to catch her should she show any signs that she's about to fall.

She rummages around for a moment in a stack of supplies that have multiplied way beyond what Killian remembers. She returns to sit in front of him, handing over a ration bar and a box of crackers with an apologetic smile.

"There's a lot more, but it needs to be cooked" she explains, "If you want something different I can heat something up."

"This is wonderful, love. We can cook something together tomorrow."

She doesn't take her eyes off him as he unwraps and eats the food she brought him. She's acting like he'll disappear if she's not careful and it makes his heart constrict to realize what he must have done to her, how sick he must have been.

"Come here, Swan." He opens his arm in invitation and wraps it securely around her once she's snuggled up against his chest. "How long had you been sleeping, before I woke you?"

She looks up to the sky to take note of the position of the sun and then shrugs. "A couple hours or so."

"Hmmm…" he hums as he re-situates them so they're once again lying beneath the blankets of their little bed. "That won't do, now will it?"

Emma opens her mouth to protest, probably to tell him she's fine, or to insist that he's the one that needs to rest, but Killian affectionately hushes her before she gets the chance.

"I'll keep resting," he promises with a kiss to the top of her head. "But only if you try to sleep."

She yawns in perfect timing to his request and nuzzles herself impossibly closer. "You should sleep too," she mutters, eyes already closed.

"As the lady wishes," he whispers against her hair. His words are lost on sleeping ears; Emma's deep and even breathing indicating that it took no more than a few seconds for her to lose the battle with wakefulness.

Killian holds her there, alternating between watching her sleep and watching as the stars blink to life in the night sky. Humming quietly, he runs his fingers up and down Emma's spine content to lie there for hours as she rests.

He loses track of time but Emma's insistence that he needs rest must hold some weight, because despite the fact that he's been unconscious for the past three days, it's not long before he feels his own eyes begin to drift close.

I was a little nervous to post this chapter for some reason...? but I hope you are all still enjoying this, and I would love any reviews :)