After the troublesome spirit agreed to stop interfering with her magic, Emma assumed that they might be left in peace for a while, but it didn't take long to realize just how wrong that assumption had been. She'd sat on the chilly marble tile of the vestibule for nearly fifteen minutes after her father had left to take the three meddling teens home, all the while cradling Killian's head on her lap. She was becoming increasingly concerned the longer he remained unconscious, but while she understood the effect a concussion might have had, she had no gauge to measure damage that spirit possession could have inflicted.
The shadows flitting about them were unnerving, maybe even more disconcerting than her run in with Charlotte, the giant tarantula. This mansion was a free-standing reservoir of both light and dark magic and it was increasingly evident that the ghosts haunting the place knew how to manipulate it. The spirits were already creating physical barriers and manifesting their presence around her in multiple ways. Now that she knew these entities were surrounding her, she could connect the smoky odor in the dining hall to their attention seeking, but what else might they be capable of? What if there was no way to free them from this realm? Halloween was only a little over a week away and if it was true that their power would grow stronger as All Hallows' Eve approached, the entire town might be at risk. Storybrooke had more than enough magic so they'd have no reason to remain cloistered in the mansion.
The encounter with Jeremiah had left Emma so jumpy that when Killian did finally wake, she quite nearly bounced his skull off of the floor with her sudden jolt. At least he hadn't seemed bothered by her skittishness as his eyes opened wide and he sucked in a deep breath, exhaling very slowly while adjusting to the flickering candles. After a few brief seconds, he recognized his wife's features hovering above him.
"Killian?" she asked, hesitantly, not sure who she might be dealing with this time.
"Aye," he moaned as he raised his throbbing head off of her thigh, fighting through a swell of nausea as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
"It's really you this time?" She wasn't entirely convinced.
"Really me? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" he retorted, her question making little sense to his cloudy mind until the memory of falling down these same stairs he was sitting next to came flooding back. He remembered striking his head and hallucinating a conversation with some sort of glowing light beings - a conversation that apparently wasn't an injury-driven hallucination after all. His gaze drew back to Emma's face as it now dawned on him that she wasn't sure who she was speaking to - who was in control. That realization came with the terrifying recollection that one of those spirits had invaded his incapacitated body to deliver a message from the inbetween realm to Emma and the others on this side. "Yes, Swan, it's really me."
"I'm so sorry, Killian," she sobbed lightly as she embraced him. "I shouldn't have brought you here. Those ghosts could have killed you…"
"I'm fine, Love," he assured her, although he doubted that she was any more convinced of it than he was. His thoughts kept reminding him of the torture the Crocodile had put him through, controlling him like a hapless puppet while clutching his heart and threatening to crush it. Having this spectre take over his physical body for even those few, short minutes had been equally invasive, and even though it had departed his body for now, Killian could still hear its voice and feared it may attempt to possess him again at any time. "The spirit departed - so to speak. You're just left with your dashingly handsome, pirate husband in your company."
"Okay, you're fine," she chuckled, relieved that he was well enough to crack a lame joke. "Suggestion though - how about we move off of this ice cold marble and into that parlor instead?"
"Sounds lovely," he laughed as Emma stood up then extended her hand toward him to help pull him to his feet. He accepted her gesture and while she gripped his hook, he pushed himself upward slowly to appease his still aching head, but as soon as he put weight on his left ankle, he received a very painful reminder. "Damn…," he hissed, biting back a yelp at the searing discomfort and nearly collapsing back to the floor. Emma shifted her grip from his hook to his upper arm to steady her suddenly wobbly husband.
"You alright?" she asked, worried this might be a nasty side-effect of Jeremiah's doing.
"Sorry, this may take me a tad longer as I fear that I may have buggered my ankle a bit…"
"Oh - I never thought about your ankle! I'm so sorry... I could feel the bump on your head and the dislocated shoulder, but I didn't think about injuries to your legs…Here, let me fix it…"
Killian held up his hand to quash her rambling. "'Tis fine," he said with an almost-genuine smile. "I'll manage. We've far worse to worry about than my ankle, but I could use a bit of assistance…"
"Of course," she replied, wrapping her arm around his waist as she tugged his hooked arm around her neck so he could lean into her while they hobbled into the parlor. "Hang on, we're going to need some light…" With a swish of her wrist, one of the candelabras lifted off the staircase, eerily floating ahead of them through mid-air as Emma's magic used it to guide their way into the next room where she deposited Killian onto a sofa draped with a dingy sheet. Once he was settled, she guided the candle holder onto a console table that hugged the wall behind them, then casually flopped down onto the sofa beside Killian, careful not to jostle his ankle which he'd propped on a footstool he'd located nearby.
"How long do you figure it will take for Regina to reverse the spell?" he asked after a brief, awkward silence.
"Assuming she actually agrees to help, hopefully not too long," Emma replied with an unintended sigh as she thought about potential consequences. "Of course, I don't have any idea what sort of spell keeps those hearts enchanted so there may not even be a way to reverse it…"
"Remember, the walls do have ears, Love," Killian whispered. " For our sakes, I hope there is a solution as it appears our ghostly hosts are growing restless. Rather impatient for those with eternity before them…"
"So, you really are still able to hear them?" Emma asked. "The ghost, Jeremiah, he said you'd been able to hear their voices, but we couldn't exactly be sure he was telling the truth."
"I can hear them. Apparently as a side-effect of my return from the dead, I possess the ability to hear the disembodied voices of these spirits. It would also be the reason they chose me to deliver their message."
"Yeah, Jeremiah told us that too, but what are they saying?"
"At the moment, it seems their loyalties are divided. Some don't believe that Regina will be inclined help them cross over - and rightfully so. They remember her as a very different woman."
"I can understand that, but it still was not an excuse to hurt you. How's the head anyway? I'm never quite sure about healing head injuries - especially since you seem so prone to them…"
Killian threw back a bemused smirk, unconsciously raising his hand to massage the spot on the back of his skull where the previously swollen bruise had been healed. "Hurts a little - like a dull headache, but it's my ankle that's barking at me at the present."
"Sure you don't want me to heal it?" she offered.
"Well, if the lady insists…," he grinned, knowing it would be pointless to argue. He also conceded that not being mobility-impaired could prove rather beneficial should they find it necessary to run later. So, with a brilliant flash of light and an ever-so-slight wave of her hand, her magic rendered the injury fully healed and Killian quite grateful to be mostly pain-free. "Thank you."
"Anytime. It probably won't be long before they start drawing from my magic again so we should take advantage of it while we still can." Emma started to push herself up from the sofa, but Killian stopped her, his fingers gently encircling her wrist as her eyes took in his confused expression. "What?"
"Where are you going?"
"I was just going to look out the window to see if my dad was back," she assured him. "Not venturing out alone again…"
"I'm quite certain Dave will contact us by radio when he returns. For now, it may be best if we stay put."
"Okay, agreed. But if we're going to be stuck here for a while, I need coffee…" Emma flicked her wrist and a thermos of steaming hot coffee materialized in her open hand.
"Would have preferred rum," Killian grumbled.
"Don't you have your ever-present flask with you?"
"If I had been given more warning, I would have brought it, but someone impatiently roused me from our bed with little provocation…"
"Well, since you probably have a concussion, you don't need rum anyway." She unscrewed the thermos lid then poured a generous amount of the dark brew into the lid, using it as a cup. "I'll share though…" She placed the thermos on the floor next to her feet as as conjured up another treat - a bag of the tiny chocolate bars exactly like the one she'd purchased to pass out to trick-or-treaters on Halloween. Killian cocked a curious eyebrow at her as she tore through the plastic with her free hand and extracted one of the brightly wrapped candies. "What? I'm hungry too." His laugh came out almost as a snort as he shook his head - then snatched a couple of chocolates for himself. This pirate wasn't going to pass up a treat, especially while stuck sitting in a haunted, abandoned mansion awaiting his father-in-law's return with what they hoped would be good news.
Mercifully, it was only a few brief minutes until they heard the crackle of the radio coming to life with the sound of David's voice asking if they could hear him. Emma grabbed the radio from her belt clip and depressed the button to reply.
"Yes, we hear you," she replied.
"Good. I was a little worried that the ghosts might block everything again," David said, relieved that their best line of communication hadn't been severed.
"So far, they've kept their end of the bargain," Emma told him. "Have any news for us? Did you talk to Regina?"
"Yes. She's on her way to the vault. She thinks she might be able to find a spell that will lift the enchantment," David stated, but then he added another comment. "Just don't know how long this might take…"
"Okay, thanks," she responded, fully expecting to settle in for a long night.
"Do you want me to come back inside?" David asked. "Anything you need? More flashlights? Do you need me to wake up Whale and ask him about Hook's injury?" Emma chuckled at her worry-wart of a father, but despite his concern, both she and Killian agreed that he should stay outside.
"Appreciate it, Mate," Killian replied this time, intending to put his father-in-law's mind at ease. "All's well - for the moment at least, so we'd much rather have you out there."
"Acknowledged," David responded without commentary. He understood.
"Let us know as soon as you hear anything from Regina," Emma insisted.
"Will do. Be safe in there," was David's last statement before the radio and the room fell silent once again.
For the next hour, they waited impatiently - Emma and Killian inside the mansion's parlor and David parked out front. As the nighttime temperatures continued to drop, they were all struggling to stay warm. David tugged his jacket tighter around his torso, tempted to turn the engine back on so he could run the heater but he really preferred not to, fearing if he got the pickup's cab nice and toasty, he might also get drowsy. Inside the only slightly warmer confines of the mansion, Emma and Killian sat huddled together on the sofa, finishing off the last of the now lukewarm coffee, and she was doing her best to keep her husband talking. She was leary of allowing him to drift off to sleep until she was certain he was no longer fighting effects of the concussion.
For the moment, she felt relatively safe remaining in the parlor. At least there weren't any stairs around here and the overhead chandelier was smaller than many of the ones found in other rooms. Of course, how exactly did you remain safe from spirits like Jeremiah and his ghostly companions? Would her magic even have the slightest effect on them should they attack or would they entirely renege on their agreement and start draining her powers again?
"What's going on inside that pretty blonde head of yours, Love?" Killian broke the silence after noticing that she'd been staring into the inky, chilled liquid remaining in the bottom of the thermos lid for far too long.
"Just thinking about our ghostly companions here," she replied as she caught sight of a glowing orb off to her right which floated upward and vanished through the ceiling while her eyes followed it. "It's really disturbing to know you're being watched - especially when you can't see what's watching you."
Killian leaned closer to her, nuzzling her ear as he whispered "We could always give them a little show…" She didn't need to see the smirk on his face to know it was there, but instead of indulging him, she gave him a playful smack across his knee.
"Really?" she scowled as he pressed his lips to her neck. "You're impossible…"
"And you love me for it," he grinned as he repeated the words she'd spoken to him after rescuing him from Hades' torture in the Underworld, but any further amorous behavior was stifled by the crackle of static from the radio.
"You two awake in there?" David's voice asked over the static.
Emma reached for the radio that was resting on the arm of the sofa, nearly spilling the rest of the coffee in her haste. "Yes, we're awake," she replied to David's query. "Got news?"
"I do," David stated. "Regina just called and said that she thinks she found a spell that will work, but she's not sure she'll have any way to know if it actually worked on her end. She said the enchantment should fade away from any of the deceased hearts which should then free the spirits, but with all of the hearts in her possession, she isn't able to check every single one."
"Of course not...," Emma muttered sarcastically, but at least, this was some semblance of progress. "Okay… We know the ghosts have been watching us and probably listening to us all night so if anything happens to change, we'll hopefully be able to tell…" She took her thumb off of the Talk button as she turned to face her husband, her brow scrunched in thought. "What exactly do you think we should be looking or listening for?"
"Well, the spirits heard David," Killian informed her. "Their chatter started back up as soon as he gave us the news, but I can't make out precisely what they're saying… They're all just talking at once…" Killian squeezed his eyes shut while he simultaneously drew his arms up over his head, pressing them tightly against the side of his head to cover his ears as if trying to block out the cacophony of voices.
"Hey - are you okay?" Emma asked, growing concerned that the ghosts were preparing to attack should Regina's spell fail.
"I hear them… All of them… It's too much…" In all of their time together, she'd never seen Killian react with such a strong aversion to any sounds - nothing like this and especially not to anything she couldn't hear herself. Would it be considered impolite to tell ghosts to shut up?
But she didn't need to ask after all because before she could open her mouth, a blinding light flashed and lit up the room almost like a bolt of lightning, but without the accompanying thunder. It came and went within a split-second, followed by a gust of wind that came out of nowhere, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into darkness.