Chapter 8: Fallen

After the kiss and the subsequent increase in tension in the air, they spoke little, continuing steadily toward land and both throwing all of their concentration into the tasks of sailing and preparing for a journey on foot. The orb guided them to an inlet that was sufficient to get the Jolly Roger close to land.

The mountainous terrain was covered in thick vegetation that didn't allow them to see very far. At least upon cursory inspection, there were not any signs of other human inhabitants. The orb zipped around them, flitting animatedly while it waited to guide Hook and Emma to their destination. He looked to Emma to hear her thoughts and she simply said, "Let's get moving," as she walked past him and followed the guide.

They walked for hours, saying little as they continued steadily uphill. The first night, they slept in shifts by the fire to wait out the darkness. It was hard enough to see through the overgrown landscape in daylight, so continuing at night was far too dangerous. The night was lonely, quiet and cold, each of them keeping to themselves.

In the morning, they continued on their somber way. The incline was continuous, and often they had to slice their way through to make a path. It wasn't an easy journey, but Emma didn't dare attempt to use magic to get them to where they wanted to go since she didn't really know the exactly location of their final destination and her magic still didn't feel firmly under her control.

As afternoon turned into evening, it seemed Hook couldn't take the silence anymore. He quickly stepped in front of Emma and said, "Does it really have to be like this?"

"Like what?" she asked with purposeful nonchalance.

"It was just a kiss. You were the one who suggested offering me your congratulations."

Her eyes narrowed at him and his suggestion that what they had shared was just a kiss. She remembered saying the same thing of their first kiss, a kiss that had had a profound effect on him. "How do you think it should be?" she asked, tersely.

"You don't want to talk anymore? Tell me your stories? Are you really that upset about one kiss? I'm not sure what else I could have done to upset you."

"You didn't do anything wrong," she answered sadly. "Come on. It'll be dark soon, we better find a good place to stop for the night."

Emma took a few steps past him, leaving him behind as she continued, hoping that the key to unlocking his memories was at the end of this journey because she couldn't take the ache in her chest any longer. She heard gravel peppering the ground next to her, and the next second, a rough push from behind sent her tumbling forward to the ground.

Turning around quickly, she saw Hook bearing the blow from a boulder that had fallen from the hill above them. She shouted his name as she ran to him, worrying when she saw more pebbles falling that more large rocks could follow. Hook was on the ground, clutching his side. Emma grabbed him under his arms and pulled him toward the safety of a shallow cave that could provide enough shelter. "Oh my god, Hook," she said as she looked him over. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said dismissively. When he tried to sit up to demonstrate that he was well enough to continue, he groaned and fell back to the ground.

"You don't look fine."

"I just need a moment," he argued.

She stood, shaking her head and saying, "It's getting dark. Since this mountain seems to be crumbling, I don't think we should try to continue. I'll find some wood for a fire. Be right back."

"I'll help you."

Smiling at him, she said, "You said you need a moment. Take it. I'll only be a minute."

She returned a few minutes later, finding plenty of wood nearby to start a fire. Hook had managed to pull himself up to lean against the wall, but he couldn't hide the pain he felt.

Emma started a fire at the edge of the outcropping they were beneath, carefully looking above them to make sure the rock over them was stable. This shelter would definitely do for the night. Once she felt they were ready for nightfall, she held out her hand and waited for the orb. It hovered for a moment before it settled in her palm, and she put it safely in Hook's satchel until morning. They couldn't afford to lose their guide. Emma wasn't sure what they were going to do the next morning, because she didn't think a few hours of rest would be enough to heal Hook's wounds.

"You pushed me out of the way," she observed.

His eyes darted toward her for a moment. "Aye."

"You barely know me, but you're willing to throw yourself in the path of a falling boulder?" she questioned.

"Was the right thing to do," he answered simply.

"How badly are you hurt?"

"A few hours of rest and I'll be ready to go, lass."

She tilted her head with disbelief, "Ya think? Let me see."

She reached for the clasps on his vest as he argued, with a forced smile, "It'll take more than a few rocks to stop me."

"Would you stop trying to pretend you're invincible!" she griped. "Let me see."

He didn't even have time to respond before her fingers slid over the clasps that held his vest closed, easily opening each one. She opened his shirt next, and he was either too tired to argue or he already understood the futility of trying to dissuade Emma Swan from something once she'd set her mind to it.

"I appreciate your kindness," he explained, "but I'm feeling much better. I've also made a promise to see that you get home to your son. A promise I intend to keep."

She smirked challengingly, "Are you feeling shy?"

"I was trying to save you the torment of trying to resist me," he teased. "If you want to tempt fate…"

Emma shot him an incredulous look out of the corner of her eye at his response because she was pretty sure he was trying to deflect her concern so she wouldn't realize how much pain he was in. "Oh please. I think I can handle it," she wryly replied.

He settled back, leaning gingerly against the rock behind him and pointing at his shirt. "Help yourself, love," he said with a purposeful leer.

She was preparing a comeback when she pulled his shirt open far enough to see his entire side covered in the purplish red color of an emerging bruise. She ran her hand softly over his ribs and watched him cringe at even that scant amount of pressure. No longer in the mood for banter, she gasped, "Oh my god, Killian. They're broken."

"Just a bruise," he argued as he tried to pull his shirt closed and winced again.

"We've got to get you back to your ship."

"And do what? Wait until it heals and come back again?" he scoffed.

"I'll take you back to your ship, and I'll continue this trip on my own."

"No," he answered immediately. "We might nearly be there already. And if I hadn't been along, that rock would have hit you, likely killing you. I know you don't think you need an ally, but you do."

"I'm not sure what else to do," she started, and then she had an idea. "Maybe there's something else."

"What?"

"Magic."

"You can heal wounds?"

"I don't know. I've seen it done. Not be me but… Can I try? Do you trust me enough?"

His eyes searched her face before he bobbed his head. She knelt next to his outstretched legs, sitting back on her feet and closing her eyes as she focused. Her hands lifted slowly toward his ribs, her fingers almost touching his skin. With a deep breath she focused her energy into him, but nothing happened. Her face finally wrinkled as she gave up, feeling her failure. "I'm sorry," she groaned. "I'll check our supplies again. Maybe Odalee gave us something that will help with the pain."

She grabbed the satchel and started looking through it, finding a dark purple potion bottle that she held up in the light cast off from the fire. Odalee had given Emma that vial before they'd left, a solution that was supposed to serve as birth control, and Emma felt tears threatening. She stared at the bottle for a few moments as she remembered how good things had been between her and Hook, and pondering how bad things had gotten since. If the kiss hadn't worked, she wasn't sure how to make this right. It was hard to keep hope.

"What is it?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"It's nothing," she answered. Turning her focus back to him, she said, "I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

He didn't answer. He just stared, looking for answers that weren't obvious to him. Reaching up, Hook brushed away the only tear that rolled down her face.

Emma cleared her throat and said, "That rock could have killed you. Or me."

"But it didn't," he answered. "Neither of us is going to perish from a rock. You'll succeed. There's no need to worry."

"It's not that," she replied. "You couldn't understand."

"I'm an excellent listener," he said. When she didn't answer, he added, lightly, "I'm in some ways a captive audience. I can't move fast enough to get away even if I wanted to."

She laughed for second, but it only accentuated her tears. "I thought if I could just kiss you…I thought…I thought it would bring back your memories."

"Why would you think that?"

"I thought it was...," she rolled her eyes at her own idea, "I thought it was true love's kiss. And that can break any curse. And clearly it wasn't because it didn't work."

"Well, you've told me that I've professed my love for you, but when I inquired about any reciprocation on your part, you told me 'it's complicated.' I'm not an expert in curses or love…but I don't think an it's complicated kiss will break any curse. So don't beat yourself up."

"I just wish I would have told you…but it's too late."

"What's too late?"

"I have feelings for you, Killian," she said, almost angrily. "And I could have told you that so many times. But now you barely know me. Every time you look at me, it's you, but it's not you. And I can't tell you I love you and have you stare back at me like it doesn't matter. I miss it. I miss you. I miss the way you looked at me. I miss the way you couldn't hide the fact that you loved me. Everyone could see it. I miss the pirate who pined for me. And I screwed up. I screwed up bad. And now…now that I truly know that I love you…I don't know if I'll ever get you back."

She felt him touch her face, the backs of his fingers touching her cheek comfortingly. His eyes were filled with compassion. Obviously touched by her sadness, he sat up, flinching a bit as he moved. He came closer and placed one gentle kiss against her cheek right next to her lips. Her eyes closed as she felt him next to her, appreciating his empathy but still acutely aware of the differences between compassion and love, and then she noticed a flash of white. For a moment she was hopeful that what she had seen was the breaking of a curse, but then she felt him jerk away suddenly as a wave of something that felt like energy passed over him.

His whole body tensed for a moment, every muscle growing rigid. At first she panicked, worrying that something terrible was happening to him, but then she saw that same blue glow that had stolen his memory. As his body was released from the grip of light, he turned toward her and she could see it, instantly. She searched hopefully for some sign that he was coming back to her and not slipping further away, and there it was. The look in his eyes. Familiarity. Affection. Love.

"Killian?" she asked, cautiously buoyant.

"Emma," he nodded. "I'm sorry, love, but just to clarify. Did you just—"

"I love you," she interrupted with absolute conviction before anything else could possibly happen. "I've loved you for a while. I don't know if I didn't realize it or I was too scared to accept it, but I do."

He smiled and tried to sit up to quickly embrace her. He was slowed by the sharp stab of pain at his side, but not deterred, because nothing could have stopped him from kissing her. "I love you," he responded tenderly.

"You remember."

"I remember."

"When you kissed me your memories came back. You broke the curse," she stated. "But if you broke it, was the curse really on you or was it on me?"

"I don't care who broke the bloody curse so long as you truly feel the way you say you do."

"I can't lie to a curse," she said before he took her face in his hand and kissed her.

The passion had returned to his touch, that electric attraction that had always existed between them, accompanied by the love that had grown into a powerful force that changed everything. She just wanted to get closer to him, as close as she could without hurting him. She straddled his lap, holding her weight on her knees and trying not to lean too heavily against his torso. She could hear the way his breath stuttered occasionally as the pain broke through, but the pain wasn't enough to stop him from touching her. It didn't feel like anything was powerful enough to pull them apart.

He tightened his arms around her, his hand moving under her shirt and carefully sliding up the soft skin that covered her back. As she felt him wince again, a tremendous sense of guilt hit her like a wave. "I wish I could help you. We should stop," she mumbled between kisses. "I'm hurting you."

"Will hurt more if you stop," he said with a smile. He watched her face as his fingertips skated over her spine until they reached her bra. He waited for a reaction while he pinched the clasp to open it. His palm smoothed around her ribs to the front, as he wrapped his hand around her side. He moved upward until his thumb rested just below her breast. He nipped softly at her bottom lip. "Of course I'll stop, if that's what you want."

She shook her head, grinning at him. His desire for her was intoxicating, and finally admitting her feelings had been freeing in a way she'd never imagined. She felt like a huge weight had been lifted and that barriers that had existed between them that she didn't even notice before were suddenly gone.

"I don't want you to stop," she said, still grinning at him, "but at least let me help out a little."

She pulled her tank top over her head, and allowed her bra to fall down from her shoulders since he'd already unclasped it. He gazed over her body with the utmost admiration, watching the warm glow from the fire paint her skin. His attention was almost too intense, so she started to push his coat, vest and shirt off all at once. The expanse of his bruising made her pang of guilt reemerge.

She gently ran her hand over his ribs, and, sensing her worry, he said, "You have just told me you love me. Let's not ruin the moment by worrying about anything else."

His words were wonderful, but her worry remained. She felt a growing anger that they'd been whisked off against their wills. She was furious and worried that this quest could have killed him. Her eyes closed involuntarily as her emotions churned within her, and then she felt an unstoppable outpouring of energy flow from her body. Emma couldn't even open her eyes or control the flow of energy once it had begun, but once it stopped, she cautiously looked at Hook.

His hand was moving over the formerly bruised area at his side before he looked up at her. "That's amazing, Swan."

"It's better?" she asked, somewhat amazed herself as she poked a few of his ribs while she watched for a reaction.

"Aye. I think you might be more powerful than my old friend the Crocodile."

"Not even close," she demurred, but he could see she was considering the possibility that there might be some truth in his words.

"Might be wise to keep the extent of your abilities under wraps for a bit. There seem to be enough targets on your back without inviting any more attention."

"You're probably right." She slid forward in his lap, pressing their bodies together now that she didn't need to worry about his ribs. "So…you just happen to fall in love with the one person you think might be more powerful than your greatest enemy?" she teased. "Interesting coincidence."

He smirked and retorted, "With a body like this, you're worried that I want you for your magic?"

In spite of jokes and deflection, the depth of the passion between them swelled over. It wasn't the words that she'd missed, it was the way their love made him. The looks, the actions that accompanied those feelings, made it real. And there was no denying their feelings.

She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and mumbled, "You saved my life, I fixed your ribs…I think we owe each other some gratitude. Don't you?"

With a salacious spark in his eye, he nodded his head, "Indeed we do." The moment seemed overwhelmed with erotic energy, but just for a moment, he ran his thumb over her lips, and it reminded her that the one thing that could trump his desire for her would always be his love.

He moved away from the rock that he'd been leaning against, lifting while she remained perched on his lap and appreciating the lack of pain in his body. He leaned back until he was lying down, holding her against him. He brushed kisses against her neck and collarbone while he unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down as best he could with her on top of him. Concentration was difficult because Emma had already unlaced his pants and shoved her hand in without bothering to take them off.

Her touch felt so good, but he needed her to slow down, so he grabbed her hands with his hand and hook, and pulled them over his head against the ground. With their hands in that position, she was fully lying on him and their bodies undulated subtly while their mouths met again. He lifted his knee so he could use his foot to kick away the jeans that stubbornly clung to her body, and she finally started wriggling out of them. His erection was jutting out of his pants, pressing against her sex with only her thin panties keeping them apart, but the warmth of their bodies almost completely pressed together was nothing short of luxuriously enticing.

He finally let go somewhat unwillingly, but he ached for her, and he could see the longing in her eyes as well. She lifted up, quickly rolling her underwear down her legs before she started yanking at his leather pants so they wouldn't get in the way. He wanted to roll her under him and take her for his own, but they had no blanket, and the rocky dirt beneath him wasn't a bed he felt was worthy of her bare skin.

Emma paused suddenly and stepped away, and Hook thought he might lose his mind with desire. Walking over to the satchel, she grabbed the potion bottle she'd gotten from Odalee and quickly swallowed the contents before she came back to him. She didn't waste any time stepping over him and settling down on his thighs. "Now we won't have to be so careful," she said, and he nodded as he realized it was the potion Odalee had given Emma to prevent pregnancy.

He was tired of waiting, so he reached between her legs and slid a finger through her slick folds. He watched while her eyes closed and her lips parted slightly with desire. He was mesmerized by her, enthralled by her, hoping to bring her so much pleasure simply because he loved making her feel good. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his stomach near his hips as she lifted a little from his body and allowed the waves of erotic sensation to build through her. He was exploring her, swirling around her clit, sliding his finger occasionally into the depths of her body. He was learning her body and enjoying that he was the man she'd allowed into her life and her heart.

Her eyes fluttered open for just a second, and she saw the way he was looking at her, the way she'd missed so much, and she couldn't resist touching him. Wrapping her fingers around him, she started to slowly caress his sex, stroking him just to watch the reactions on his face as well. He couldn't take that, not for long, not when her body was beckoning for him. He moved her, lifting her up and positioning himself at her entrance. He paused like he was waiting for some sign that she was fully consenting.

The only consent that she offered was the subtle shift in her hips that allowed him in. Then she slowly lowered her body down until he was fully nestled inside her. As they merged, their voices mingled through a shared sigh and gasp. There had been so much pressure on them, so much tension, so much sadness, and they finally had a reprieve. Even though Hook had his memories back, he'd spent the last few days reliving the pain of losing his brother. Emma had spent the last few days experiencing the raw loss of having her love ripped away from her. The power of their love couldn't be so easily vanquished. Their love seemed indefatigable, relentless and invincible. They weren't sharing a passing dalliance, they were part of something that was probably bigger than either of them really understood. Theirs might just be a tale for the ages.

Of course they weren't explicitly thinking about those things. They weren't considering the weight and privilege of true love or what their union might mean, they simply felt the heightened sensations of people who were not only attracted, but also deeply in love, perhaps destined.

They started to move together, their eyes locked as their bodies intrinsically sought a rhythm. It was slow at first as they separated and melded again while they enjoyed a few last seconds of delayed gratification, appreciating what they had. Then their resistances snapped like a dry twig. He grabbed onto her so tightly, losing himself in her both literally and metaphorically. In the same spirit, she accepted him, opened herself to him in every way, and they fucked each other with the desperate passion of separated lovers who'd come home.

He lifted his hips powerfully from the ground, relentlessly seeking her depths as she writhed over him. Their pace was so perfectly set, so coordinated, and then as their peaks neared, they lost the perfection of their dance to desires that simply took over and they lunged toward release, both committed to bringing the other to the fullest height of pleasure and desperately clinging to their own restraint to ensure that happened. As her fingers dug into his side and shoulder, she screamed his name. She didn't whisper, gasp or groan, she screamed his name, shouting at first, "Hook," the name she'd first really known him by, in a way that shot a pang of lust through his body. She was unraveling, coming apart before him as her orgasm became unavoidable, and then, still with that uncontrolled voice of bliss added, "God, Killian," as he finally reached the flashing point of pleasure and used the very last of his bodily control to plunge into her a few more times before his power was entirely swept away from him.

Afterwards, he remained on the ground, rocky soil beneath him. She was nearly motionless on top of him as the two were one sweaty, breathless pile of contented relaxation. They hovered on the edge of sleep for as long as possible before he got up, brushed bits of gravel and debris from his back, and helped her to her feet. He laid his long coat on the ground and gestured for her to rest there while he got dressed. "I'll keep first watch, love," he offered as he leaned against the edge of the cave.

She started to consider arguing, but the ache in her chest was finally gone, and it felt wonderful. She had him back and she felt completely at home on the floor of that cave. She put on most of her clothes except her shoes and socks so she wouldn't be naked if they were ambushed during the night.

Hook watched Emma sleep with his coat for a bed. She looked stunning. She was strong, she'd always been strong, but as she slept, he saw that hint of vulnerability that made her so much more beautiful. He'd been vulnerable for her, shown her his heart and faced rejection. He knew how difficult it was to let his guard down. He felt honored to be trusted by someone who trusted so few. After all, she'd confessed her love, it had finally happened, but in her attempt to win him back, she'd told him so many tales of her life that he'd never known before. He was worth that to her. Somehow he, a pirate, a villain, a man once dedicated to revenge, had become the trusted lover of a princess who was now sleeping barefoot on his coat. A princess who'd fought for his trust and affection.