Title: Finding Home With You
Warning: Contains spoilers from Season 4.
Author's Note: Yay Killy's not dead!
So if you couldn't tell, this is pretty much where the branch off from the show starts. I know it's been pretty transcript heavy and I've been following the episode a lot, but from here on out it basically becomes my own piece.
Because we're all so very, very happy that our favorite pirate is alive and kicking, I'll let you hear from him this time around.
I know it's really short, I'm sorry. I promise the next one will be longer!
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: 1,699
He can feel his mind floating towards the edge of consciousness and wedges his nose farther into the smooth, delectable smelling pillow he's sleeping on, trying to fight his way back to sleep. He's just about to drift back off when he realizes that what he thought was a pillow is in fact a person. A person who is wrapped quite perfectly in his arms and warming him up quite nicely.
Part of him wants to welcome back the warmth of sleep, but the other part of him is wondering who in their right mind would want to sleep in his small, uncomfortable hammock with him below deck.
He opens his eyes to see that the wonderful smelling pillow is covered by a messy mop of blond hair. It all hits him then; the lad and his mother, his heart being completely captured by a certain green-eyed beauty, and being stabbed, quite painfully, by afore mentioned beauty's father.
Leaning his head back slightly, he watches her sleep for a few moments, reveling in how peaceful she looks. That she would trust him while so vulnerable, that she would let her guard completely down- well it simply overwhelms him. He cannot decipher this young mother and that somehow draws him to her even more. Not in the sense that he wants to figure her out and then throw her out, but rather to come to know the inner workings of her mind and heart, to be able to understand when others don't because she allows him to be that close to her, emotionally.
And he does rather fancy the way she allows him to be close to her physically.
He has one arm wrapped under her, his hand splayed over her back to keep her close. It was something he had done unconsciously, but he now uses this position to draw her even closer. He is rewarded with a sweet sigh as she nuzzles her head farther into his chest. He continues to lay on his back, loving the way one of Emma's hands gently cradles her face, sandwiched in between her head and his chest, while the other hand lays flat over his heart.
He presses a light kiss to the top of her head, before resuming his place of having his nose buried in her hair. He likes to watch the ripple his breath causes in her hair, timing his breaths to that of hers, which blows across his chest.
"Knock, knock," a loud voice bellows and Killian lifts his head to see a boisterous middle-aged woman barge right into the room, carrying a tray with her. She glances down at Emma whose still sleeping on Killian's chest and her cheeks burn red. She giggles and says in a hushed tone, "Ah, mustn't wake the missus."
Killian is shocked into silence and blinks sleepily at the older woman, trying to understand. She thought Emma was his wife? They were in a rather compromising position, but that was a mighty big conclusion to jump to.
"Yeah, my mom's real tired," Henry's voice comes from the other side of the room. Killian cranes his neck to look over Emma's sleeping form at another bed that he hadn't yet noticed. Henry sits up, propping his pillows up against the wall and leaning on them. "She spent most of the night looking after my dad."
A heat rushes through Killian's cheeks. Did the lad just refer to him as his father? It explains why the round woman in the middle of their room called the Swan girl his wife, but it raises numerous other questions in its wake.
"No need to be embarrassed, sir. It's quite alright to be looked after by your own wife, every once in a while. Gives her somebody to look after, since your lad's about grown and you haven't given her any other little ones to tend to," the lady chastises.
Killian's flush only grows. To think of him and Emma having children-
"Here's your breakfast, then," the woman says, placing the tray down on the small table next to Killian's side of the bed. "Already paid for, so eat up."
She then dawdles out of the room, stomping down the stairs quite loudly.
Killian continues to lay in the exact same place he had been in before the entire scene. He can't quite get his head around the whole ordeal.
"Mom must really be tired," Henry comments, getting up out of bed and walking around to the tray of food.
Killian starts to get up, wiggling out from under Emma, feeling a bit ridiculous for not only laying down in front of the boy, but being so close to the boy's mother.
"No, don't!" Henry blurts out, putting up his hands to stop Killian's movements. Emma stirs in her sleep and Killian becomes still, not wanting to wake her up, but she only moves her head to nuzzle her nose into his neck. Killian stares wide-eyed at Henry, mortified at the intimate position he's in with the lad's mom. Henry shrugs and grabs some food off the tray, "I've seen you guys do more than that. Besides, if she's tired enough to sleep in, she really needs it. Want a biscuit?"
Killian takes the food from the boy and carefully eats it, making sure not to drop any crumbs on the young woman clinging to him in her slumber. When she starts to mutter his name, Henry clears his throat uncomfortably and makes an excuse to leave. Killian is glad he does, as his ears flame from the Swan's girls murmurs even without anyone else around to hear them.
When she finally starts to stir again, the sun is fast approaching midday.
He watches as she thrusts one arm into the air and curves her back, letting out a long yawn. She then runs a hand through her hair and has to yank it out of the tangles it gets stuck in. She sighs happily, still glancing about the room, before she turns back to look at him. He's still laying flat on his back, which is starting to get sore from lack of movement, and she's propped up slightly on one elbow, her other hand resting on his chest.
"Good morning," she hums, dipping down to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Good morning," he breathes out, no longer questioning the wonderful things that keep happening to him when it comes to this woman, but instead relishing every second of it. She sits up completely and pulls her mess of hair into a ponytail. He's mesmerized at how beautiful she looks, even when undertaking such a mundane task. The way the sun lights up her already bright hair, the slender curve of her neck, her strong capable arms on full display- he has to shake his head to clear his thoughts. By way of distraction, he asks, "How did you sleep?"
She finishes her task and her arms flop to either side of her, her shoulders sagging in defeat.
"I'm supposed to be asking you that," she says, bouncing off the bed and walking quickly over his side to place a hand on his chest and keep him from rising. "I'm the nurse, you're my patient. So, how'd you sleep?"
He notices a little blush on her cheek when she calls him her patient, but he doesn't press the matter. She begins to unwrap his bandages to check the wound.
"Most comfortable night I've passed in, well, my whole life," he answers honestly. Her cheeks only rise in color and he's glad he went with the simplified version instead of actually going into detail just how pleasant of a slumber he had, especially the waking up part. Seeing an opportunity to tease her and elicit more of that enticing blush, he quips, "And what about you, love. You slept in quite late and your lad was scared off by your mutterings."
"M-Mutterings?" She asks, her hands still and her face goes slack with horror. "What did I say? What did he hear? Where is he now?"
"Hush, love, you merely said my name," he reassures her, running the back of his knuckles over her soft cheek. He lowers his voice and musters up his cockiest grin to say, "Though it was more of a caress than anything. And it was at least a dozen times."
"A dozen?" She asks, looking mortified.
"A baker's dozen," he affirms, laughing at her embarrassed state. "Don't worry, love, Henry only heard it once and then he left to gather more supplies and check the area for news on the Queen."
The color slowly drains from Emma's cheeks. She looks at him with her eyebrows furrowed, but she can't keep the smile off her face as she lightly slaps his shoulder.
"Don't do that," she admonishes, returning to her work undoing his bandages. "How long has he been gone?"
"Ah, I'd say about an hour or two. It's closing in on noon, I'd say we'll reach midday in a little less than an hour and a half," he informs her, looking out the window to judge the position of the sun.
"What?" She exclaims, running to look out the window. "You guys let me sleep in 'til 10! Why didn't you wake me?"
She whirls around and marches back over to him, her hands on her hips.
"You looked so peaceful, love, I didn't want to wake you. And your lad said you needed the sleep," he responds sheepishly, attempting to rise onto his elbows to bring himself closer to eyelevel with her.
She immediately pushes back down on his shoulders and resumes work on his bandages. "Not so fast there, pirate. You still got a lot of healing to do."
Just as she completes her sentence, she pulls away the last bandage and her face is completely covered in shock.
"What? What is it, love?" Killian asks, unable to see the wound with the way she's got her hands rested on his chest.
"Your chest, it's- well, it just," she shakes her head, removes her hands and looks him dead in the eye. "Killian you've completely healed."