The Present
Killian paused to smirk as Emma's stomach growled very audibly for at least the tenth time that morning.
"Would you like to stop to eat, or eat while we walk?" He asked, already digging in his bottomless pockets.
"Let's keep going," Emma decided. While part of her desperately wanted to rest, another part of her was anxious that Mary Margaret - or should she say Snow White? - would reach the castle first and run into trouble without them there to help. Based on her luck in the last twenty-four hours alone, she definitely felt like going with the safer option. Still, this ridiculous, constricting dress was not making for a pleasant walk.
"Here you are, Swan," Killian said, presenting her with something that looked suspiciously like-
"Crackers?" Emma snorted incredulously. "You have crackers in the Enchanted Forest?"
Killian's eyebrows crept together in confusion. "Crackers? What the bloody hell are crackers?"
"These!" Emma waved one of his lunch offerings in front of his nose.
"What sort of a strange term is that?" Killian chuckled. "Crackers," he muttered in derision, as though the word was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard.
"Well, what do you call it?" Retorted Emma.
"Hardtack, of course," he replied, as if it were obvious.
Emma stopped walking to stare at him. "Seriously? You're going to pretend that a name like 'hardtack' is better than 'crackers'?"
"Aye," Killian agreed with a nod. "As you can see, it's of a firm consistency. And it's tack." At Emma's blank look, he shook his head in exasperation. "Food, Swan! Tack is a term for food on the high seas. Surely you've heard of it before."
"Do I look like an ancient pirate?" Emma demanded. "Of course I haven't."
"Ancient?!" He repeated indignantly.
Emma folded her arms defensively. "And what doesn't make sense about 'crackers'? They make a cracking sound when you bite them!"
Killian rolled his eyes. "Oh, wonderful. Aye, let's name everything after sounds. We can have munchers and crunchers. We can call all beverages slurpers."
"Slurpees."
"Excuse me?"
"We actually have a drink called Slurpees."
Emma couldn't hold back a laugh at Killian's disgusted expression. It looked as though he considered the drink's name to be a personal insult. She laughed even harder as he took a bite of his cracker, his disgust seeming to deepen at the sound it made when it broke. Finally, after chewing and swallowing with the same expression of distaste, he shook his head in resignation.
"Your dialect is truly baffling."
"You'll get used to it," Emma assured him with a grin.
"Doubtful," he replied matter-of-factly.
"What? Too hard for someone as old as you to learn something new?" She teased, moving to elbow him lightly in the ribs before remembering that he still had a knife wound there.
He smiled a small half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hardly. It's just doubtful that I'll remain in your world for long once we return, assuming I can find a portal back."
"Oh," Emma said, feeling her stomach sink. She quickly reminded herself that she had no reason to be disappointed; it wasn't like she was going to be in Storybrooke anyway. Still, she'd come back to visit. She wanted a normal life, but that didn't mean that she never wanted to see her parents again, and Henry would want to see Regina. It would be strange to come back and not see Hook there, she realized. Somehow, she'd gotten used to him being around, and the thought of him not being there made her feel strangely... off. Still, it wasn't like she could ask him to stay. He'd made it clear how he felt about her, and she was unwilling to reciprocate.
"Eat up, Swan," Killian changed the subject quickly and with false enthusiasm. "I seem to recall that your stomach has been more vocal than you usually are for the past little while, and, while that's quite an achievement, I should hate to see you waste away."
This time, Emma really did elbow him, completely forgetting about the hole in his side.
He doubled over briefly with a quiet groan. When he straightened back up again, his face was pale, making his eyes look even bluer than usual, and sweat was beading along his forehead.
"I'm so sorry!" Emma exclaimed, eyeing him in concern.
"It's fine, Swan, really," Killian gritted out. "Probably deserved it."
Emma shook her head, suddenly angry at him and angry at herself. She was angry at him for saying something so stupid, and she was angry at herself for making him feel that way. She knew she hadn't been treating him particularly kindly in an effort to keep him at a distance and due to her own trust issues. Still, despite her perfectly valid reasons, guilt was worming its way unpleasantly through her gut.
The worst part, though was that he didn't seem to realize the turmoil he'd caused her through his words, unless he just chose to disregard her guilt.
"I never really pegged you as a picky eater, Swan. Too refined a lady for 'crackers', hmm?" He changed the subject abruptly, although the challenging words and smirk lost much of their nonchalance from the strain in his voice.
"Killian..." Emma began awkwardly.
"Aye, love?" His eyebrow hopped up on his pale forehead. It was only now that Emma became aware of just how close together their faces were.
She opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she meant to say - whether an apology, an attempt at comfort, or something else - died on her lips.
"Um..." She stalled, fidgeting slightly with her sleeve as his disconcertingly blue eyes drilled into her. "I was just thinking..."
"About?" Killian prompted.
Emma slowly started to walk forwards again, pulling them out of whatever stasis they'd been stuck in. "You're good at stalling, but, seriously, you left me with a huge cliffhanger. What happened next?"
If Killian sensed her avoidance of her actual thoughts, he said nothing, for which Emma was grateful.
"Cliffhanger?" And just like that, with Hook's confusion, their familiar pattern of banter returned.
"Seriously? You don't know what that is?" Emma teased, pushing away guilt in favour of relief.
"Oh, I'm sure that I could hazard a guess based on the other strangely literal terms of your dialect, but perhaps you would care to enlighten me," Killian said with a small smile.
"You left off at a part where I have no idea what will happen next. It's killing me," Emma explained quickly.
To her surprise, Killian chuckled. "Of course you know what happened. I'm alive now, aren't I?"
"Just tell me what happened!"
The Past
Killian had been in pain before. He'd dealt with years of abuse at the hands of his uncle, not to mention navy floggings and near-starvation. Still, when he woke up after killing his grandfather, he could honestly say that he'd never felt worse. Everything hurt, almost as though a horse had trampled him multiple times before dragging him through thorns and throwing him off a cliff. Killian hated horses, which was perhaps why that particular thought came to mind.
The Present
"Why?"
Killian closed his eyes as though asking the heavens for patience. Several seconds later, he asked, "If I left you in such suspense, why do you feel the need to interrupt already?"
Emma shot him a glare.
The Past - 1818
Killian hadn't needed to ride horses for his time in the army. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one viewed the situation, the king couldn't be bothered to give horses to the child soldiers, not that they'd know how to ride anyway.
No, Killian had learned much later after being reunited with Liam. His brother had discovered the serious gap in his knowledge after joking that he had to make up for years of missed birthdays by giving him a really great present.
"Perhaps I should give you a horse," he mused, although Killian thought he was joking. Probably. Hopefully.
Killian snorted. "A lot of good that would do me in the navy."
"What about when you're on land? What if we want to travel?" Liam replied easily.
"Then walking would suffice, I'm certain," he told his big brother sternly.
Liam narrowed his eyes, before letting out a heart laugh from his belly. "Oh, I see. You don't know how to ride!"
"Of course I don't," Killian retorted. "Where would I have learned?"
His brother stared. "That was only a jest. You actually don't know how?"
Killian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll repeat for the older gentleman who seems to be experiencing premature hearing loss; where would I have learned?"
At that, Liam had spluttered indignantly, running his hand through his hair as he always did when he was agitated.
Of course, the next day, Liam had to drag him to the stables of the army and force him onto one of the great beasts. He declared that he couldn't allow anyone related to him to lack such basic knowledge.
The horse was a huge, unruly beast with quite a mean streak. Once he had actually managed to mount the monster, which turned out to be quite the ordeal, learning to ride him was unexpectedly difficult. Of course, Killian managed it, and rode from then on whenever he needed to, but loathed every second of it. He hated the stench of the unclean beasts. He hated the way they sent you bouncing around and made you lose all shreds of dignity. He certainly got more seasick from the animal's lurching and rocking than from the gentle hand of the sea.
The Present
"They do smell," Emma agreed through a surprisingly edible mouthful of hardtack. She had never ridden a horse herself, but she had been close enough to glean that tidbit of information.
The Past
Killian's throat was dry, and every inch of him that could possibly hurt was hurting.
In fact, when Killian woke up, he was so disappointed that he didn't open his eyes right away. He had hoped that he'd be dead, but he had little hope for an afterlife and didn't believe that any afterlife would hurt this much. Instead of opening his eyes, he ran through every curse word he knew alphabetically, which at least helped to distract him until his ears picked up on the quiet conversation at his bedside.
"'e can 'ardly be angry with you when we saved 'is life," a faintly familiar accented voice said, continuing a conversation that Killian had obviously missed the first part of.
"He'll think of it as a betrayal even so," a man replied miserably.
"Who betrayed me and why?" Killian growled without opening his eyes.
A heavy silence fell over him, which would have made him roll his eyes if they had been open.
"You're awake, Captain. How are you feeling?" Asked the second voice hesitantly. It was familiar as well, even more than the first speaker.
"How the bloody hell do you think? What did you do?!" Demanded Killian, eyes flying open to take in a small room lit only by faint firelight.
In the dim light, the two figures exchanged a glance. Killian didn't feel his mood improve at the sight of Jacques Moineau and a guilty-looking Owen. It took only seconds for him to put two and two together. "Ah."
Owen swallowed with some difficulty. "I'm sorry, Kill- Captain. When you told me what you planned to do, I thought you could use some assistance, so I-"
"Contacted Captain Moineau?" Killian finished sourly.
"At your service," agreed Jacques with black-toothed grin.
Silence fell once again as Owen eyed his former friend nervously. "Killian?"
He grunted in response.
"Are you angry?"
Killian considered the question. Of course, he was angry. He was angry that his entire family was dead. He was angry that everyone he cared for was dead. He was angry that King Julian was still king and that Lord Alasdair had to face his grandson's justice rather than the justice of the kingdom, if only because the kingdom was corrupt. He was angry that he hadn't killed Giselle and that she had manipulated him so effectively. He was angry that he now apparently owed his life to the first man to screw his mother and a man who would befriend a dishonourable monster like his father.
"No," Killian said finally. "I'm not."
Owen visibly sagged with relief.
"You saved my life, Owen, and I'm grateful," he added carefully, before turning to Jacques. "I owe you my gratitude as well, although I still can't understand why you would help me."
"I told you; it is a favour for old friends," Jacques told him surprisingly gently. "Not everyone is without honour."
"I suppose I also owe you an apology, Owen. I was harsh with you before, when you're really one of the few friends I have left. It was courageous of you to defy me, and I won't forget it," Killian added to his friend, who nodded shortly.
"Thank you."
Stories were exchanged then, of breaking and entering, murder, and midnight rescues. Owen and Jacques had arrived at the city some days before Killian's escape from his cell, but waited to formulate a plan. When bells had sounded in the castle, warning of an escaped prisoner, the two had flown into action. Killian didn't know what sort of sadistic God was controlling his life, but the two rescuers had stumbled across him in the streets as they moved towards the castle.
They left only a day after Killian woke up after raiding his and Liam's old apartment for their belongings, mercifully untouched. They didn't dare stay any longer, in spite of Killian's condition, since they knew that soldiers would be searching for him.
When Killian limped back onto the deck of his ship, it was with a rush of relief and safety that felt peculiarly like home. True, it wasn't the same sort of home that he'd had with his parents, Ciarra, or Liam, but it felt faintly like home all the same. Owen had helped him carry the few belongings he had brought from the city into his quarters, where he set them up with care. The bits and pieces left over from his old family hurt, true, but they needed to be there and hurt, if only so that he could remember them.
Owen was promoted to first mate soon after. The former first mate was displeased, of course, but after being threatened with a keel-hauling, he quieted down with his complaints.
As for Jacques, Killian dropped him off at his own ship, moored some leagues away.
"If I can ever return the favour of your assistance-" Killian began in place of a farewell.
"I expect nothing more nor less than your friendship," Jacques promised. And, for the first time, Killian believed him.
Jacques turned to his ship, a beautiful vessel, with a small smile.
"Jacques! Took you long enough! We were worried that you wouldn't come back!" Called a handsome young red-haired man from the deck.
"Ah, Guillaume! I was 'alf expecting you to leave without me," Jacques teased, crossing the gangplank with ease.
Guillaume laughed and pulled Jacques into a hug, while a pretty brunette watched from the side with a fond expression. When she caught Owen's eye, she waved at him vigorously.
Killian noticed that Owen watched them somewhat wistfully. For a moment, Killian thought he detected some bitterness on Owen's face, but it was there so fleetingly that he figured that he must have imagined it.
Nevertheless, Killian felt that he had to say something. "You can go with them, if you prefer."
The offer wasn't an easy one to make. Killian was still weak and in a lot of pain with weeks to go before he felt functional again. Letting go of someone like Owen, who he had actually found it in himself to trust, was a terrifying thought.
Owen turned to him in surprise before shaking his head quickly. "God, no. Never. I couldn't."
Killian was surprised by the ferocity of his refusal and followed his friend's gaze as a result, right to Guillaume and his beautiful lover. "Oh."
Owen shook his head ruefully, before turning back to the deck and getting to work.
The Present
Emma shook her head sadly. "He fell in love with the woman? On the way to save... whatever his name was? Guillaume?"
To her surprise, Killian smirked. "Well, you're close."
"What do you mean?" Emma demanded.
"He didn't fall in love with Lisette," he clarified. "Nor did he fall in love on the trip to save Guillaume."
"So..." Emma prompted.
"He fell in love with Guillaume on the return trip," Killian explained.
"Oh." Emma replied in surprise. "Poor Owen."
"Aye. Guillaume was madly in love with Lisette, and I think it about broke Owen's heart," Killian confirmed, sympathy flooding his expression for his old friend. "Love can be cruel, it seems."
Emma got the sense that he was talking about more than Owen.
The Past
"I'm sorry, mate," Killian told him that evening as they sat on the deck under a tapestry of stars that reflected into the sea.
Owen shrugged. "There are plenty of other men out there. Surely I'll find someone else, eventually."
Despite his hopeful words, he took a deep swig of rum from a bottle before passing it to Killian, who had started to take a liking to the drink. The spicy taste had grown on him, but more than that, he was grateful for its capabilities in numbing the pain from his recent stint in prison. He drank from it gratefully, musing that perhaps they should have brought a second bottle.
Killian attempted to arrange his face into some sort of encouraging expression as he nodded. Despite the darkness, it was obvious that Killian had failed; Owen let out a loud bark of laughter.
"Optimism doesn't suit you, Killian. It never did. But I appreciate the effort, all the same. Still, who knows? Maybe that pessimism will bring you happiness some day."
"I have good reason to be a pessimist," Killian reminded his friend. "Everyone I've loved has died. Being realistic just means that I'll deal with less pain later."
Later, Killian would blame the rum for his honesty. Heart-to-hearts weren't necessarily his thing, but perhaps it was a mark of how desperate he was to have someone - anyone - to talk to that he would discuss this with Owen after just recently rekindling their friendship. Still, Owen was the only person that Killian had left to talk to that he trusted, so it wasn't like he had many options.
"No, I meant that you won't expect something wonderful to happen, which will make it much better when it does," Owen explained. "For all you know, happiness could be just around the corner. I bet it is."
At the time, Killian laughed ruefully and teased Owen for his truly disgusting optimism.
In a way, though, Owen was right. Maybe happiness wasn't just around the corner, but it was waiting just several leagues North in a small village with a stifled, miserable, free spirited woman and her failing marriage.
Thanks so much for your patience. :)
I am so grateful for all of you who continue to read this. Thank you to everyone for your kind comments regarding my last note.
I'll try to do my bit and turn out chapters faster now!