Killian wakes just as the sun is beginning to peek above the horizon, the soft pinks and oranges that stain the morning sky offer just enough light to make out the details of their little campsite. Emma is still sound asleep next to him, her breathing soft and slow—and it doesn't appear as though she'll be waking any time soon, for which he's glad. He could practically feel how exhausted she'd been—and she both needs and deserves the rest.
Before leaving the warmth of the bed and Emma's skin, Killian takes a moment to admire the way the morning light kisses her features. Her hair shines with the colors of the sunrise and the light dusting of freckles that crosses her cheekbones stand out just a little more than usual under the direct rays of the sunlight. And he doesn't think he's ever seen a sight quite so beautiful.
He's careful when untangling himself from beneath the blankets, moving slowly so as not to disturb her. Once he's successfully freed himself he tugs the blankets a little higher over her shoulder, and presses the lightest of kisses against her hair.
Standing up is harder than he anticipated, and harder than he thinks it ever should be. He's stiff and sore, and his body protests his every movement. Apparently being unconscious for a few days leaves even the task of straightening his back a painful one. It takes several awkward and rigid steps before his body seems to find its rhythm again, but the motion of walking alone seems to dissipate some of the soreness.
With a quiet groan he leans down to rummage through their supplies, locating some fresh clothing and soap. He chuckles to himself as he reads the label of the bottle in his hand—lavender and honey—definitely not his first choice when it comes to picking a scent for himself but it's better than the alternative of dirt and sweat.
He bathes in the frigid water of the stream, hissing sharply when his skin makes first contact with the water—it's uncomfortable, but enduring the icy temperature is worth the feeling of being clean.
He occupies himself afterwards by going through the supplies and food Emma had managed to gather during her excursions to the spaceliner. He wants to cook her a large warm meal, something that would feel extravagant when compared to their tasteless diet of ration bars and whatever else they manage to find in the wild. But it's still much too early and he hopes Emma will keep sleeping for at least a few more hours—so he settles with taking inventory instead. Dividing their rations into non-perishables and perishables, identifying what should be eaten sooner rather than later, and trying to come up with a plan to make everything last as long as possible.
He's amazed at all that Emma seemed to have gathered, but his heart squeezes at the thought that she'd done this all alone. That she'd hauled food back to their campsite while exhausted and worried. That she did all of this as she tried to find a way to save him. It's part of why he wants her to keep resting, why he wants to have something warm and delicious ready when she wakes. He might have been unable to help her for the last few days but he wants to more than make up for it now.
He's half way through cooking their meal when she finally wakes. He hears her before he sees her. Hears the tousle of the bedding and then the quiet little hum she usually gives as she stretches the sleep from her limbs. He looks up from his place at the fire and can't help but smile.
She's sitting up with hair a bit unruly and her eyes not fully open. She's slouched over as though she's not completely awake yet, and it's with a yawn that she arches her back and gives her head a little shake to wake herself up.
Killian's smile only widens as he watches her—he's quickly discovering that seeing the adorable mess that is Emma Swan in the mornings is easily one of his favorite things.
"Good morning, love," he greets her as he makes his way over to help her to her feet. He presses a sweet kiss to her lips and smiles when she hums happily against him.
"Good morning indeed," she echoes back before pressing her palm against his heart and looking at him seriously. "How are you feeling though?"
He covers her hand with his own and squeezes it tenderly. "I told you darling I'm completely fine, if it weren't for the fact I'm just a little bit stiff I would have never known I was sick."
She purses her lips a little at his words, still a bit skeptical. He assumes that only showing her through the course of the day will convince her that he's feeling completely healed. So in an attempt to soothe her he traces his fingertips up the length of her spine before trailing one hand over her shoulder and brushing her hair back from her neck. He might feel fine but she still doesn't quite look like she's recovered from the whole ordeal. The purple shadows that had been beneath her eyes yesterday are smaller and less noticeable—but still she looks as though she could sleep for another day.
"How are you?" he asks as his fingers skim the dark shadows in question. "You still look tired."
Emma sighs in response, wrapping her arms tighter around him and tucking herself in against him so that her head rests just under his chin. "I'm much better now that you're no longer dying." she mumbles quietly against his chest.
He's at a complete loss for words so he just holds her and presses her a little more firmly against him, letting her know that he's here and he's not going anywhere.
"You smell nice." She eventually says as she pulls out of his embrace and Killian laughs because out of everything this is what she notices, but he immediately latches onto the opportunity to lighten the mood.
"Aye, like lavender and honey to be exact."
She raises her eyebrows in amused confusion, and he laughs again finding her bewildered expression endlessly endearing.
"It was the soap you brought back with some of the supplies. You should take it and some fresh clothes and wash off in the stream. It'll help you feel better. By the time you get back I'll have some food ready for you."
She smiles up at him—the idea of being clean probably the most appealing thing to her right now—and then rises up on tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. "I think I'll do just that."
She has a little skip in her step as she gathers what she needs and Killian feels his heart lift at the sight of her happiness.
She's back not too long after and they eat in relative silence. Emma's eyes had grown when she took in all that he made them for breakfast, which wasn't much but anything after weeks of ration bars is a feast.
Once they're done and everything is cleaned up and put away they somehow find themselves back beneath the blankets of their bed, cuddled together before it's even midday.
As she lays her head against her chest he breathes in the scent of the honey and lavender soap, and somehow the scent he'd been so amused by earlier is absolutely intoxicating when mixed with her skin. He buries his nose within her still wet hair—a new found appreciation for the particular aroma.
They really should be doing something productive, but if anything they deserve a rest day or two—a day to do nothing before they go back to searching the spaceliner for the communications system. Killian tells her as much and is surprised when he feels her stiffen in his arms.
"We're not going back inside the spaceliner Killian."
She offers no explanation, just spits the words out as rigidly as her tensed muscles. He assumes she doesn't want to go in there because of the time she spent alone searching for medicine. She hasn't told him much but from the look in her eyes he can only guess it wasn't pleasant.
"Alright," he appeases, "you don't have to go back, Emma. I can search. Just tell me where you've already been and you'll never have to step foot in there again, I promise."
"No it's not that…" She props herself up too look at him and there's a deep sadness and hopelessness within her gaze that has Killian's brow coming together in concern.
"Swan, what is it? What's wrong?"
"I-I made it through a lot of the spaceliner. I don't think you can search much more before you'd end up going up to the residential levels… and there… there's bound to be bodies…" She swallows thickly and drops her gaze as Killian runs his hand up and down her back.
It would be unpleasant and horrifying to say the least, but if it meant he could find the communications center he'd search that area of the spaceliner for her.
"But that's not the only reason," she continues capturing his attention again. "I already found the communications center…. It's ruined. There's no way we can get it to work. We're not going to be able to make contact with anyone."
She bites her lip after saying the last bit, and water starts to gather in her eyes until they collect into soft tears, escaping to her cheeks as she blinks.
"Bloody hell," he whispers. The news is a shock to his system and his chest feels hollow—empty of something he's just now realizing never really had hope for happening in the first place. Since the beginning they've always figured there was a way off—a way to find rescue. Weeks have been spent with the promise of finding a way to send out a distress signal, of finding a way to send for help. And now that the possibility is gone . . . he feels empty. At a complete loss on what to do next.
"Yeah…" is all Emma manages to whisper back, quietly acknowledging the hopelessness he knows she's feeling too.
It takes him a minute to regain composure but soon he's wiping the tears from her cheeks and gently pulling her down to rest against his chest again. "We'll be okay," he mummers against her hair. "I don't know what we'll do, but we'll figure something out. We'll be okay."
"What will you miss the most?" she asks after a beat of silence.
He considers her question silently before answering. He's not sure he has much to miss actually.
"I don't really know," he answers truthfully. "I wasn't living for much, not since my brother died. I had the navy—but that was more just something to keep me occupied, something to do to make Liam proud. I lost any true desire to advance in the ranks once he died, but I didn't have anything else, and staying was a way to keep him with me."
He feels the familiar ache just beneath his breastbone that always accompanies thoughts of his brother, but Emma's presence mercifully keeps the brunt of the pain at bay. She absorbs his response quietly, doing nothing but using her fingertips to trace small circles against his shirt.
"What will you miss the most?" he eventually asks.
"Hot cocoa and cinnamon," she muses and then laughs softly at her own answer as though something so small shouldn't be something she misses. "My parents," she continues, reflecting a little deeper. "Though truthfully I haven't seen much of them in the past few years, they kept sending me away, all with the intent to protect me…I've only seen them a handful of times in the past year. If they knew I was alive they'd probably be happy that I was finally safe"
He doesn't say anything, because what is there to say? He can't assure her that she'll see them again because he doesn't know if she will. He just lays with her in silence, his fingers tangling and untangling the ends of her hair.
"You mentioned they've been trying to keep you safe—" he trails off leaving his statement open ended, his curiosity obvious, but he keeps the pressure of the actual question out of his tone. She's hinted at trouble at home before—and ignored each and every time he's tries to inquire further.
"It's complicated," she sighs. "You know of the Dark One?" Killian only nods, he's heard of the demon and the horrors of his magic, but there isn't anyone from his home realm who hasn't.
"Well shortly after I was born there was some prophecy that I'd be the cause of the end of his powers. And if you can imagine he does not like that. My parents did a good job at keeping me safe growing up, he never really felt like a threat and as a result I've had a hard time actually believing any of this to begin with. But more recently he's been impossibly managing to gain more power, and entire regions have been falling into darkness. My parents can't explain it, and they no longer felt like they could protect me, so keeping me hidden away in a spaceliner was the next best thing."
She shrugs her shoulders at the end of her tale, as though the darkest magical being in existence isn't intent on her demise.
"It's all a bunch of nonsense anyway. I can't exactly be the end of his powers when I'm living on a stranded planet galaxies away. But…" she props herself up and he meets her emerald gaze. "…as much as I'll miss everything at home, I'm happy that I'm not here alone. And I'm more than just a little happy that you're the one I'm stuck with."
She grins down at him and Killian surges forward to capture her lips with his. She squeals in surprise when he flips them over, pressing her into the blankets beneath them. He keeps the kiss at a relaxed pace, relishing in the way he can feel every slide of her lips against his. He could drown in the softness of her lips and the smoothness of her skin—become addicted to the little noise she makes in the back of her throat when he deepens the kiss. Yes, he can think of much worse things than being stranded on a planet with Emma Swan.
Eventually he pulls away—breathless and a little dazed—his stomach flutters at the way her eyes shine as she smiles up at him.
Leaning down he skims his nose against the shell of her ear, and whispers, "I'm more than just a little happy you're the one I'm stuck with too."
I am so sorry this took so long, I've been so busy I barely have time to breathe. Combine that with a little writers block/insecurity and no writing was being done. Next chapter will be up much faster I promise. I'd love if you left a review :) (and maybe tell me your guesses on how they're going to get off the planet now, I'm very curious). Thank you for reading!