A/N: Here's the next room. Let me know which one you want to see next! I've also finally figured out how the next chapter of A Bounty of Paint Pots so I should get that up by the end of the weekend. I hope the writing is okay, I feel like I do multi-chapters better so I'm not confident in this but it was fun to do! Thanks for all the support already! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Painting with a hook was not easy. No matter how agile Killian was with the metal appendage no one was good at properly painting walls unless they had magic. At least that was his humble opinion. One he grumbled under his breath over and over as he ran the blasted roller across the wall.

The first room that was being tackled inside the Albatross Lane cottage was the bedroom- or rather bedrooms. Henry was down the hall painting his a light yellow with the help of Regina and Robin after Regina insisted her son would have a properly painted room. Killian had been offended when she'd made the quip initially but now that he'd been painting, well Regina hadn't really been wrong in her assumptions.

Paint streaked Killian's jeans, light blue standing out bright against dark denim. Emma had let him pick the colour and the room since she'd gotten to choose the deck. The choice had been easy for Killian. And though he'd delivered it with a waggling eyebrow the reason wasn't to do with anything intimate- though that would be a nice perk. Emma wasn't sleeping. At the loft her baby brother would scream all hours of the night and with her parents there ready to keep her up for hours to smother her with love as soon as she started whimpering in her sleep it wasn't a conducive spot for rest. It was awkward too for Killian to try and sleep there with her. Even though David and Mary Margaret recognized Emma had asked for it and needed it, it didn't stave off their discomfort at the idea of a pirate sharing their baby girl's bed a few feet away. And Emma didn't sleep on the Jolly Roger as much as she argued she did. The alternating between spots wasn't helping either. Killian knew she needed a spot of her own. A constant that could be nurturing and relaxing to help her recover.

The bedroom was on the second floor of the place, in the front which allowed for a lovely view of the sea in the room's inset bay window. It was big enough for a queen sized bed and dresser set, along with a bookshelf and an arm chair. There was a tiny bathroom attached, a shower pushed into the corner with a sink and mirrored cabinet. It was carpeted but after a bit of an investigation Emma had discovered that there was a wooden floor underneath, thin oak boards that were worn down leaving an uneven staining. But in the space it worked, a level of well-loved destruction resembling the Jolly's deck. When the painting was done the carpet would be pulled up and they would have their charming wooden floor.

Killian painted a long streak of paint the colour of a cloudless morning up the wall, splattering half it on his clothing. He cursed, tossing the roller into the dish, causing even more splatter. And even more cursing.

"Good job we're replacing the carpet," Emma quipped as she painted a flawless strip on her wall, which she was nearly done with. A streak of paint marred her cheek and there were some spots on her clothing but they hadn't been accidents. Killian had seen her painting them on when she thought he wasn't looking then cursing brightly afterwards, failing to pull off a believable anger. It made him smile, her gestures to try and make him feel better about his painting failures. And the paint on her face was undeniably cute.

"This takes a bloody long time," Killian grumbled, trying to paint faster to catch up with her and ending up with even more splatter. No wonder David had suggested the painting crew. Whenever the Jolly needed painting Killian paid the workers at a dry dock and since that had been the only home he'd had for centuries it wasn't as if he had much experience with this kind of thing. But it had looked easy enough beforehand. Of course so had a lot of the things he'd done in the past.

"Be glad the walls were already white so we didn't have to prime," Emma answered, starting on the final wall. It was mid-afternoon, the work having started around ten. David had helped move over the furniture from Emma's room at the loft which was freshly whitewashed by Mary Margaret and sitting on the lawn drying. Emma had argued they could get their own but Mary Margaret liked the idea of being able to hand over some furniture to their daughter for her first place (even though it wasn't, just the first she'd helped with) to much to lose the argument. Emma had grumbled but Killian knew that secretly she loved it, just like when Mary Margaret made her bed fresh every day and always left lunch in the fridge for Emma before she left for work.

The bookshelf and chair, along with curtains, supplies for the bathroom, and several other odds and ends had been purchased at an infernal place called Ikea. Emma had driven him to one after Regina made sure he could leave the town without issue. They'd wandered the isles for hours, picking up things, ordering others for a later date, arguing about colours and the tackiness of items. Emma had been worried about price, her past showing through when she let slip a comment about having to buy groceries when they were comparing a cheap (and ugly) sofa to a nicer leather one.

In response Killian had taken out his phone and pulled up a picture he'd taken earlier that day in preparation for such an argument. The picture was of a chest in the hold of the Jolly, full to the brim with gold coins and pearl jewellery, the background of the shot showing at least two other similar chests. Emma had stared stunned, taking in the sheer amount of gold Killian had amassed. When she'd tried to get an explanation he'd just winked and said "Pirate, love, remember?" Money wasn't an issue for them. Killian had spent years collecting the treasure, often in violent altercations, and he was determined to change that fortune into something good. And if that meant a leather sofa then so be it.

"Come on, pirate. Don't let the bedroom beat you."

"I'll have you know, love, I win in the bedroom every time." Killian winked at Emma before closing the distance between them and kissing her hard. She responded immediately, giving back enough to take his breath away. When Killian broke for air she pushed him back with a laugh.

"That's because you've not had this bedroom battle with me yet," Emma replied saucily making Killian groan, heat coursing through him. Oh yes, when Emma recovered this bedroom redo was going to turn out to be an excellent idea.

"Bloody vixen," he mumbled back to which she gave him a smug smile.

"Keep painting or we'll never find out who wins that battle." Emma turned back to the wall and continued to cover it with paint. Killian watched for a bit, examining the way her muscles moved underneath her tank top. It was a wonder her shoulders weren't aching after all the weight and muscle she'd lost during her time as the dark one. Of course they might have been but she wouldn't have said anything. Emma had spent the past few weeks suffering in silence, Killian pulling the information out of her gently but firmly. He knew his Swan needed space but he also needed to know she was recovering.

Killian sighed and returned to painting. It would do no good to be caught studying her for signs her body was starting to give out. The goal was for the room to get done so they could begin sleeping there the next night. One more night at the loft then Emma could begin a normal routine. Even with the house being renovated, a stable room to sleep in was better than what she, what they, had right now.

The bedroom and bathroom were finally finished two hours later, Henry and his own painting crew having finished long before. Killian's own body ached so much he couldn't imagine how Emma was still standing. But she was which meant he wouldn't flop down now. Instead Killian used his hook to jab the far corner of the carpet, pulling upwards. Thankfully someone had just laid down the material instead of properly flooring it so it was fairly easy to pull up, Emma helping to roll it as Killian pulled it up.

Killian shouldered the carpet roll before Emma could attempt to help and marched out of the room and down the stairs. While he was leaving Emma threw open the large window to help the paint dry then followed him down the stairs. Henry had left with Regina and Robin as he was going to stay there until the house was ready for him to move in.

Killian waited for Emma on the deck next to the roll of carpet. When she came down Killian slipped his arm around her shoulders. She sagged against him, finally allowing herself to show just how exhausted she was.

"It will be done soon, love," he murmured, looking out towards the ocean.

"I hope so," Emma returned seriously. It was obvious she was talking about more than just the house.

Killian kept his arm around her as they moved to the yellow bug in the driveway. They would sleep at the loft again that night, something Emma recognized with a weary sigh when she pulled up. Killian barely held back his own sigh; she couldn't keep living like this. Emma needed her own place and she needed to rest, to let someone else carry the burden of renovating a house, the sheriff duties, taking care of her family. It was all just too much for someone who'd just gone through what Emma had.

Emma went straight to bed when they entered the loft, leaving Killian in the living room with her parents. Mary Margaret stood by the counter, David rocking little Neal by the sofa. They both watched Emma go, worry creasing their faces-

"How was she today?" Mary Margaret asked, worrying at her lip.

"She won't stop," Killian admitted with a sigh. "I wish the bedroom would have been set up to stay there tonight- no offense your majesties," Killian added, blushing lightly.

"It's alright," Mary Margaret replied, laying her hand on Killian's arm, surprising him with the tenderness. "We understand Emma needs space. If we aren't sleeping with the baby here it must be impossible for her."

"Aye. And with the reno she's going to work herself to the bone. I wish she'd let me do it myself."

"But that's not Emma," David replied.

"Which is why we do it when she's asleep," Mary Margaret gasped, tone brightening as she started to plan. Killian watched the wheels turning, trying to decide if he should be afraid of what the tenacious queen was planning.

"What are you saying," David asked, joining them at the counter with a sleeping Neal.

"Tonight. We go finish the bedroom so she doesn't have to move furniture. And she doesn't have stuff ready for the next room so it will buy us a few days."

Killian nodded along with her words. Yes, that might work. They had been debating what room would come next, whether they would do the living room next or finish the top floor by painting the hall and revamping the bathroom that was home to some "1960s avocado porcelain" according to Emma. Killian didn't really care about the label, just that it was uglier than anything he'd ever seen in The Enchanted Forest and they didn't even have indoor plumbing.

"David, you stay here and look after Neal. I'm going to go with Killian and move stuff in."

"Shouldn't I go?" David asked, his face showing he was about to tread on tenuous grounds. "I mean you will be moving furniture around."

Mary Margaret scrunched up her face. "You know I'm very capable, Charming. Just as much as you," she hissed back, offended. "And I don't trust you and Killian to decorate."

"She has a point, mate," Killian agreed.

David sighed in defeat but waved them off. Arguing wouldn't bring any success. Mary Margaret grabbed the truck keys and led the way out of the loft.

Killian stumbled into the apartment with the queen after midnight. They'd set up the bedroom but Killian didn't feel right staying there the first night without Emma. And he worried about leaving her for a night, knowing the nightmares would soon arrive. Saying a quick thanks to Mary Margaret he made his way up the stairs and fell into bed next to Emma, not even bothering to take off his leather jacket.

"Killian?" Emma's voice called him out of sleep. He grumbled a bit as he opened his eyes and was greeted with the bright morning light. The angle of it told him it was still was early. He'd only slept for a few hours and the aching of his muscles clearly said it wasn't enough.

"Yes, love?" he asked, voice husky from sleep.

"Why are you fully dressed?" She was suspicious and rightly so. Killian returned the question with a small smile. It apparently didn't soothe her. "Where did you go last night?"

"Home."

"You went to the Jolly Roger?"

Killian pushed himself up. He'd hoped he'd get breakfast before showing Emma the room. "No, love. I mean our home."

"Why did you go back there?" Emma asked confused.

Killian took her hand and led her out of the room. "I'll show you."

Emma drove, continually questioning Killian's actions but he refused to give anything away. He wanted her to see it for herself. When they reached the cottage Killian took her hand again and led her up the carpeted stairs and to the master bedroom, letting Emma step in first.

The gasp was all he needed to hear to know the decorating was a success. Killian stepped in after her, examining the bedroom in the morning light. The bed was pushed up against the wall, made up with copious pillows, cornflower blue sheets and a navy, light blue and white patterned quilt. The quilt was from the Jolly Roger, the element from his old home fitting in seamlessly with his new home. The bookshelf was lined with the books taken from the Jolly, along with an old compass and the sextant Liam had given him all those years ago. A cream coloured padded arm chair was in the corner next to the books, the perfect little reading nook. The dresser had a vase of roses from the front yard on it. A few maps were framed and hung on the walls. The sheer curtains undulated in the breeze coming through the open window.

"Killian?" Emma gasped again, looking back at him. There were tears in her eyes which she was determinately fighting. "How?"

"Your mother is quite the decorator," he answered, leading her over to the bed. "I just allowed her to ransack the Jolly for items."

"You didn't mind?" Emma asked in wonder, sitting on the plush bed. Killian sat next to her.

"No, love. This is my home now. I've been served well by the Jolly for many years but she's now for pleasure only. Keeping everything on her would be a waste."

"It does look wonderful."

"Aye. This is a proper bedroom."

"But why?"

Killian got off the bed before he answered and bent before Emma. "Because you need a place of your own love," Killian started as he began unzipping her boots. "I see how ragged you are. Even if you won't tell me I know you're barely holding up." Killian removed one boot, setting it to the side while Emma watched him intently. "This bedroom is your sanctuary. Nothing can hurt you here. And I wanted you to be able to rest today, to continue to recover. Because you mean too much to me, Emma, to just sit back and allow you to run yourself to the ground." He took off the other boot and stood again.

She pulled him to her, crushing her lips against his. Killian let his hand tangle in her hair, holding her against him. When she pulls back she smiles up at him, tears falling freely now. "Thank you, Killian."

"Anything for you," he replied, helping her lay back against the pillows and pulling the blankets out from under her. "Now why don't we sleep for a bit? Since you woke me up so early." He tucked the sheets around her, pulling them up to her chin.

Emma laughed sheepishly, pulling Killian into bed with her. He quickly pulled off his coat and boots before fully rolling into bed. Emma tucked herself next to him, head on his chest. "Sleep, love," Killian whispered, kissing her forehead. Sleep claimed them both immediately. They didn't wake until the evening, the hours that had passed being the longest Emma had slept at once since her return.