Title: Finding Home With You
Warning: Contains spoilers from Season 4.
Author's Note: The follows/favorites and reviews are amazing, thank you guys so much! You really encourage me to keep the story going, so thank you for that. Here's Emma's point of view.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time characters.
Summary: (Lieutenant Duckling!AU) What would have happened if Emma and Henry couldn't help Regina get her happily ever after? Now stuck in the story the Author wrote them into, Emma and Henry will have to start a new life in the Enchanted Forrest. With a little help from a timid sailor, Killian Jones. But plagued by the new Evil Queen, the three will have to continuously dodge Snow's efforts to hunt them down and end them.
Word Count: 2,778
She sees his body hit the floor and screams in anguish. A burst of energy pulses through her and it isn't until her parents go flying backwards that she realizes it's magic. She doesn't have time to dwell on how she was able to use magic or if her magic is actually back or not, she runs across the cobblestone and collapses on her knees.
She quickly puts her hands to the wound, putting as much pressure on it as she could manage.
"Killian," she all but shouts, her eyes frantically flickering from his closed ones to his chest, in hopes of seeing him open his eyes or take in a breath. "Killian, please don't leave me. Please don't go."
She's blinded by her tears, flowing freely now. The logical part of her mind reminds her of her mission, reminds her that this is not her Killian, reminds her that the best way to save him now is to erase this whole mess from happening in the first place. But all she can feel is the ache in her heart, the all consuming sorrow and fear that overrules all logic. All she can see is his ghostly pale face, his closed eyes, his usually smirking lips barely opening to allow breath through.
Wait, he's breathing!
"Killian, oh my god, Killian!" She breathes out heavily. "Can you hear me? Please, god, Killian can you hear me?"
Henry's by her side at this point, glancing back and forth between Killian and her parents' unconscious bodies. "Mom? How did you do that?"
"I don't-" she cuts herself off with a shaky inhale of breath. Wiping under her nose, she tries again. "I don't know, Henry, I don't know. But we need to get him somewhere safe. Somewhere we can help him."
Henry looks at her for a long second before starring down at Killian with a vacant expression in his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "He isn't-"
"I know, Henry! I know he isn't our Hook, I know that okay? God, don't you think I know that?" She shouts, hanging her head in shame, knowing she's being ridiculous and hating herself for it, even as she does it. "I'm sorry, kid. Look, just please do this for me. I need to know he's okay."
Henry nods his head and helps her bind as much cloth over his wound as possible, hoping to stop the blood flow. They lift Killian and position him in between them so they've each got one of his arms around their shoulders, allowing them to support his weight. They begin their slow journey out of the alley and across town, keeping their eyes out for any black knights.
"I understand," Henry finally says after a good 10 or 15 minutes of silence between them, besides the heavy breathing and occasional grunt that accompanies resituating the pirate's falling body.
She glances at him over the top of Killian's lolling head.
"When I saw my mom, Regina I mean, I needed her to know who I was. And I tried as hard as I could to get her to meet with Robin Hood and finally get her happy ending, even though she kept pushing me away," he says solemnly. "And it just felt so off for me to have to teach Hook how to sail. I even wished he would ruffle my hair once or twice."
She sees his double-meaning for what it is. He can see how much it's hurting her to see Killian and not be with him. He can see just how much she loves him. And that terrifies her, because she's barely reaching the point of being able to admit that to herself. She's nowhere close to being ready to admit it to anyone else, nevertheless her own kid.
"Thanks, kid," she replies simply.
They continue on in silence until they reach a small dirty inn at the very edge of the town. While she is skeptical about the hygiene of the place, she knows the secluded area will ensure little possibility of running into any unwanted guest and the rundown condition means that the innkeeper can be bribed into secrecy.
After paying for a room and adding a little extra for privacy, using the money she swiped from Blackbeard's cabin on the Jolly Roger, the mother/son duo begin struggle their way up the stairs.
"You really shouldn't let your husband drink so much in front of your son," the innkeeper's wife calls out rudely from behind her mending work.
Before Emma can snap back at her, Henry responds with, "My dad's a good man, ma'am. I don't know if you've heard, but there's a nasty group of ruffians who have been poisoning drinks in the pubs they go to. My father only had one drink, but whatever they put in there knocked him out for good. We simply can't make it all the way home carrying him, that's why we stopped her, ma'am. We were hoping, actually, that you might be able to point us in the direction of an apothecary, so we may care for him properly."
The concern was genuine in Henry's voice and Emma was impressed with the few tears that slipped down his face, working to keep a smile off of her own as Henry refers to Killian as his dad. She hadn't really thought of marriage- she'd barely just accepted their relationship as it was- but she couldn't help thinking about what Killian's reaction would be to Henry calling him dad.
"Oh, my! Poison, you say? My goodness, I'm so sorry! Of course, I'll just, oh my now let me see," the robust lady sets down her sewing things and glanced around the front room, as if the drab colors on the wall would reveal to her the path they needed.
Emma holds back an eye roll and musters up her most hopeful looking smile. Henry shoots her a glare, so she must not look very convincing.
"Well, you should just be able to take the road right back into town and when you come across the shoemaker's shop the apothecary is just to the right," the woman responds.
"Thank you so much for your help," Henry pipes up and Emma lets him take control of the situation. "I don't know how we could ever repay you for your kindness."
The lady blushes and Emma turns her snicker into a cough. "Now, never you mind about that young lad. Just help your poor mother as she tends to your father. Run along now."
At her dismissal, the two trudge the rest of the way up the stairs to their room on the second floor. They manage to get the door open and get Killian on the larger bed in the room. Emma quickly removes both her and Killian's sword belts and throws them on the smaller bed, which reminds her more of the uncomfortable cots they had at most of the children's homes she stayed at. Shaking the thought off, she begins to remove Killian's- unnecessarily complicated- top.
Part of her brain is wondering what to call the shirt- Is it a waistcoat? A jacket? What the heck is this thing?- while the other part registers Henry's movements. She turns her head to see him walking towards the door.
"Where are you going?" She questions, her hands unconsciously resting on Killian's bare chest.
"I'm going to the apothecary's," Henry responds in a tone that implies the duh. She gives him a pointed look at his spike in attitude. He raises an eyebrow and corrects himself, "I'm going where I don't have to see my mom undressing her boyfriend."
Emma's cheeks flare up with heat and she immediately withdraws her hands from Killian's body. Just for good measure, she takes a couple steps away from the bed and stands in front of the window, looking out at the fields and the small path they had just walked on. She nods her head repeatedly, well after the boy walks out the door and vanishes down the path.
"Well, he certainly inherited your air of mystery and attitude, didn't he?" A voice comes from behind her. "And what's this boyfriend he's talking about?"
Overcome with emotion, Emma whirls around and launches herself onto Killian, knocking him down from his perch on one elbow. She burries her head in his neck, pressing her lips against his jugular. It's not a kiss, but it's just as exhilarating; she can feel his pulse beneath her lips and she grins into throat, clutching onto his shoulders.
"Ah," he grunts in pain, simultaneously laying his hand on her back to steady her as her momentum nearly carries her right over the top of him and onto the other side of the bed. "Careful, love. I did just get stabbed after all."
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She shouts, wincing at the volume of her own voice. She pushes herself off of him and almost violently rips his top the rest of the way open.
"Easy, lass," he says. She expects a clever innuendo, but when she looks up to see the blush on his face, she remembers this is not her Hook. "This is the only top I've got. Unless you want me to remain shirtless-"
Her giggle cuts him off, but she doesn't want to embarrass him further, knowing his blush has already grown by now. "Alright, I understand," she teases, gently helping him remove his arms from the sleeves, allowing her fingers to run over his chest, across his shoulders and down his arms as she does so.
He shivers from the contact and she can't help but tease him.
"Cold?" She asks in an innocent voice, knowing full well it was her who caused his involuntary movement.
His mouth does the adorable gaping thing again, where he looks like he can't get his thoughts in order in time to make words. She hides her smile by turning to fold his shirt properly and lay it by the swords on the other bed.
The cloth that Emma and Henry had wrapped around his wound is soaked through, but the blood is turning a rusty brown color, something that Emma has learned from experience means the blood has stopped. She carefully unwraps the wound, with a little help from Killian arching his back. She tries to assess the damage.
The cut is on his right side and its pretty high up on his chest. In fact, it's right about where his heart would be, if his heart was on the right instead of the left.
Emma thinks back to the moment right before it happened. David had risen from the ground behind Killian and was about to stab him in the back, in the perfect position to pierce his heart. But Killian turned around and the blade hit him on the other side of his body instead.
"You saved me, you know," his breathy voice breaks her out of her thoughts. She glances up at him and sees his teeth gritted in pain. He's breathing heavily, but seems otherwise unbothered by the wound. "When you shouted, it sort of, well, I'm not sure how to say it, but it heightened my senses. Does that make sense?"
Emma nods, "We call it an adrenaline rush. Everything's clearer, sharper. You can punch harder, run faster, swim longer."
"I had an adrenaline rush, then, as you say. And I could tell the Queen's man-servant was behind me and I turned to face him. If I hadn't, his dagger would have gone straight through my heart. I'm pretty bad off as it is, but at least this has a chance of being healed. And I owe that all to you, Emma Swan. Thank you," he says gently, raising his good hand to her face and gently wiping away a stray tear.
She leans into his touch for a moment, but then she hears footsteps bounding up the stairs, so she quickly wipes away her tears and turns towards the door just as Henry rushes in.
"Oh, good, he's awake," Henry says dropping his load from the apothecary's onto the nightstand beside the bed.
"Let's get to work," Emma mutters, avoiding eye contact with both Henry and Killian, knowing that with how far down her walls currently are, her eyes would give away all of her emotions.
Head down, she gently begins to clean Killian's wound. The room stays relatively quiet, both males picking up on Emma's strange mood, besides the occasional grunted order from Emma to Henry.
It takes her a while to clean the wound, because she's being so very careful not to harm her love, while also wanting to get the job done thoroughly. The most difficult part for all, is having to stitch up the open wound, because the antiseptic does not do much to stifle Killian's cries of pain, which cause great big tears to fall from Emma's eyes and onto the wound. Henry eventually has to take over when Emma's hands begin shaking too much from emotion. Instead, she sits on the side of bed, back towards Henry but facing Killian. Using a cloth she continuously dips in a bowl of cool water, she wipes away the sweat from his face
His face contorts in pain, frequently, and she uses a shaking hand to smooth away the lines of discomfort from his brow. She caresses his face softly with one hand, wishing she could draw away his pain. He brings his hook up and rests the curved edge against the back of her hand, keeping her hand firm against his face.
She smiles shakily through the tears and he grants her a lopsided smile for a mere second before he yells out in anguish again.
Finally, finally, it's all over.
Emma finishes up the sutures, tying them off and cleaning the slightly crooked row of stitches carefully. Then she places a clean bandage over them and wraps a clean cloth around his torso, holding the bandage in place and adding another layer of defense against infection.
Rounding up all the soiled cloths they had used in their attempt to stop the bleeding and clean the cut, Emma hands Henry the pile and asks him to take it out back, beyond where anyone can see, and burn it.
"Why does he need to do that, love?" Killian huffs out, spent from all the pain he'd just endured. His eyes are half- lidded and his bare chest is heaving.
"To keep you safe," she mutters, returning to her perch where she sits by his elbow. Running a hand through his hair to gently fluff it back into place, she explains, "First of all, we don't want there to be any evidence that you survived. My parents will come after you if they know you're alive. If they found those pieces of cloth, they would know someone nursed you back to health and that would give them an idea of where to start looking. But also because it's unsanitary to keep that kind of thing laying around. I don't know the science behind it; I just know it's not healthy."
He's quiet for a few minutes and she almost thinks he's fallen asleep with his eyes half open when he whispers, "Thank you."
"Shh," she soothes him, bending her head down to be more at his level. With both hands, she caresses his face once more, smoothing over the worry lines and gently closing his eyelids. "Sleep now, Killian. You need to rest."
He opens his eyes slightly and just looks at her for a good minute or so. "Only if you say you will, too. You've had a long day as well, milady," he slurs, his voice full of sleep.
"I will, dear pirate. Now, get some rest. That's an order," she teases, allowing both hands to slip off his face and rest on his chest.
"And who are you to order a captain?" He breathes back.
Her heart soars at his comeback. It feels so similar to the easy give and take banter she's used to. Apparently exhaustion in this Hook brings out his confidence and wit.
"I'm a princess," she whispers into his ear, thinking of all the times he referred to her as such.
"As you wish, Princess," he mutters, allowing his head to drop off to the side, his cheek resting against the pillow.
Her heart light and her mind too exhausted to dwell on any of the numerous events of the day, she walks to the other side of the bed, pulls off her boots and snuggles up to her pirate.