A/N: I really like the way this one turned out. As I'm not using the underworld stuff this chapter will tell you how Killian was saved (artistic liberties taken). I've left some openings for future chapters in this one so if you want to see more let me know. I'm also thinking of doing some Christmas ones- like the first Christmas in the house (and Killian's first Christmas ever), decorating a tree, etc. I think that could be a good background for working through some of the issues our couple has to grapple with now. Would you all want to read that? Thanks for all your support, views, reviews, favourites and follows. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: All aspects on Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.
Killian Jones was a man of action. And right now Emma Swan was insisting he did absolutely nothing. If he didn't love her so much he'd have pulled all his hair out by now.
But he couldn't blame her. Killian wasn't exactly himself. If he even knew who that was supposed to be anymore. Now that he'd let her in it was too hard to keep hiding, too hard to force himself to be the strong, resilient Killian Jones he'd been while Emma was coming to terms with her time as the dark one. Healing Emma no longer needed the devotion he had used to distract himself. Killian almost wished she wasn't better so he wouldn't have had the opportunity to fall apart. It was selfish but he hated those looks her parents gave him when they came over, a sickening mix of pity and impressed that he'd held it together for their daughter.
Killian wasn't eating very much and it was starting to show. He felt too sick to eat after what he'd done. He'd killed Merlin. He'd opened a portal to the Underworld. He'd nearly had Emma's family killed, the same people who brought him Granny's every day even though he barely touched the comfort food. Henry, the lad he wanted to be his own son, had watched him die. Yes, Emma had revived him with half her bloody heart but the pain of watching him was something he should never have had to see.
And Emma. The woman who's heart now bet in his chest. He'd said the most awful things to her as the Dark One. Things that made him want to vomit now. The comments he'd made about her being an orphan, about being a distraction haunted every dream. A part of him couldn't believe that when he'd absorbed all the darkness she hadn't killed him once and for all because of it. Instead that brilliant, stubborn woman had pulled out his heart, stabbed it with Excalibur to free them from the darkness's hold and then replaced the organ with part of her own. She was no longer whole because of him and he would never forgive himself for that.
A thumping downstairs roused Killian from a restless sleep a week after the panic attack he'd had in the kitchen. Just as Killian had stopped for Emma while she tried to rest, Emma had stopped for him. It appeared though, that she'd gotten to work that morning, finally sick of a half-finished kitchen.
Killian slid out of bed, the clock blinking 10:30, far later than he ever woke when healthy. Socks slipping on the hardwood, Killian padded down the stairs, flannel pajama pants keeping him warm in the late November cold. A bit of snow had fallen through the night, visible through the front windows as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area.
Despite his quiet steps Emma looked up from where she was painting stain on the bottom row of cupboards. She stood immediately, setting the paint brush into the can before hurrying over.
"How did you sleep?" she asked, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
Killian shrugged when she pulled back. He'd slept better than he had been but-
"Still dreaming of me?" Emma asked. She'd been woken the first night after the panic attack to Killian talking in his sleep, replaying the scene of when he'd snapped about being disappointed in her, about not loving her any longer. They'd both cried after Emma had shaken him awake, holding each other until the sun rose. The dreams changed nightly now, Emma always waking up when he started to toss or talk, pulling him against her chest. They no longer cried. Maybe because they just couldn't anymore.
"Did I talk?" Killian asked as way of answering.
She shook her head. "Not this time. Care to tell me what it was about?"
"The very end."
Emma pursed her lips, paling a bit. She still felt extreme guilt for what she'd done, and maybe she always would. Just like he would probably always feel terrible for his own actions, especially those towards his golden Swan. Maybe accepting that was going to be part of the recovery process.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes glassing over with unshed tears.
"I forced your hand, love," Killian answered. "You were the one who decided saved me." Killian's hand unconsciously raised to his chest, the beat of his- of her- heart steady under his fingers. "You gave up your bloody heart to save me. After everything I did." Killian's voice broke at the end and Emma lunged forward, throwing her arms tight around him.
"Only half," she whispered in his ear.
Despite himself a laugh pushed out of his chest. She was an absurd and amazing woman. After all the shit in her life she was still giving up so much.
"Still works just fine, yeah?"
After he didn't answer right away Emma pulled back, leaning against his arms. Her eyes drifted towards his neck, scanning the scar that stood out from the creamy flesh, a daily reminder of what she'd been forced to do. Just as every heartbeat reminded him of her sacrifice, every glance in his direction reminded Emma of her own actions, how she'd not been able to let him go and therefore forced him to go through what he had. They both carried so much guilt. Killian had to force himself not to forget that.
"Yes, love," he answered after a long moment. "It's still beating away."
Emma leaned forward and kissed the spot where his heartbeat could be felt. Killian laughed again. He didn't know how Emma could keep doing this, keep making him feel better. A small part of him was whispering that he'd done the same for her, that this was what love was. That must have been true because Killian had never loved anyone more than he did Emma Swan.
"Can I get you something to eat?" Emma asked when she finally pulled away. Usually he would say no, never hungry anymore and instead opting for coffee to keep himself awake and away from the nightmares that haunted even his naps, but standing in the half finished kitchen with Emma, seeing that she felt the same way he did, he actually started to feel hungry.
"Cereal?" Best start small.
"Sure," Emma answered smiling, leading Killian to the breakfast nook. She sat him down before moving to the cupboard. "Henry's or the good-for-you stuff?"
Killian raised an eyebrow, the answer obvious. Emma gave him a long look before grinning. The movement was so him and it wasn't until he did it that he realized it had been a week since he'd done the familiar movement.
"Frosted flakes it is then." Emma sat a full bowl down in front of him.
Emma turned back to her work while he ate, continuing to paint the cupboards. Killian watched her move, high ponytail swaying as she crawled around on her knees, finishing the cupboards.
"What time did you get up this morning, love?" Killian asked, swallowing the sickeningly sweet cereal.
"Six?" Emma answered, brushing long strokes up the wood. "I know I was waiting until you felt better but I'm sorry. I'm starting to lose patience at having to dig through a cardboard box every time I want something to eat on."
"Well, you could just eat straight out of the takeout containers."
Emma turned around just long enough to roll her eyes at him. "The plates help keep up the illusion."
"Can I let you in on a little secret? You're not fooling anyone." Killian joked around a mouthful.
"I promise I'll start cooking more once I have my kitchen back." They both knew that was a lie but Killian let it stand. Emma was trying her best.
Killian actually finished the entire bowl of Frosted Flakes before eating a banana and drinking a cup of hot cocoa with cinnamon. His stomach protested, having shrunk after eating little more than a slice of toast and a few onion rings each day, but he felt content. Killian pushed himself back against the wall and watched Emma work.
Halfway through the morning she started humming, hips swaying as she painted the top level of cupboards. The sun glinted off her hair, giving her a crown of light. Killian had to smile. He loved this woman so much. Her biggest fear had been losing those she loved, losing him, and yet she'd killed him to save everyone. And then literally gave up her own heart to bring him back. Even after everything, she'd given him the opportunity to die a hero, to officially be what he'd fought so hard to return to. She was so strong. She'd give up anything for the people she loved.
Watching her, Killian started to feel that focus he'd lost coming back. He felt so lucky to be loved by Emma Swan. A navy lieutenant, a reformed villain, a lost boy was loved by a princess, a saviour, a lost girl. The pain wasn't gone, still beating strong with every thump of his new heart but the goals he'd had started growing stronger again.
Killian wanted to build a home with Emma Swan. This home. He wanted a family with her. Henry, Mary Margaret, David, Emma. He wanted a future. One that involved the ring on a chain that sat on the table upstairs, Emma having given it back to him after the panic attack to remind him of the strength he had.
In the early afternoon, after sharing the lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese Mary Margaret had dropped by with, Emma started securing the cupboard doors back on, having dried the varnish with a flick of her wrist when she thought Killian wasn't looking. She was nervous about doing magic now that Killian was recovering, cognisant of the fact that Killian had lost all his magic after she killed him, not that it had been a gift in the first place. While he didn't particularly mind not having magic anymore, the absence still made itself felt sometimes so he appreciated the gesture.
Killian leaned against the wall, chewing on his lip. Emma was struggling to hold the doors in place and screw them to the frames at the same time. She'd explicitly forbade him from helping until he was recovered but today had been a good day for him and he wanted to help. Killian hadn't moved on from everything in his past by laying around. While he appreciated Emma's gesture, knowing he'd done the same for her, Killian was truly a man of action. Today in being out of bed he'd worked through some issues, started to see that Emma wasn't angry about the thing's he'd done, the thing's she'd done for him. That had made a world of difference already.
Killian crossed the floor and squatted down next to her. "Need a hand?" Before Emma answered he grabbed the door and held it in place. "You can have a hook too if you need it," he joked after she didn't immediately start working again. "I'm okay, Swan. Really."
She huffed at him, pretending to be exasperated, before going back to work. They worked together, the team they'd always been, securing all the doors back in place and then filling the cupboards. Emma told him about Henry who'd been staying at Regina's to give them space, chatted about the idea of getting a pet for him as they worked. It was almost normal.
It was dark by the time they finished, both standing in the kitchen. Killian snaked his arm around Emma's waist and she leaned against him, head on his shoulder. The room looked refreshed. Only the cupboards had been redone, having decided to keep the rustic cottage charm of the paint and butcher block counter top. They didn't replace the appliances either, since neither of them were much good at cooking despite Emma's earlier statement about cooking more. The two of them figured it would be better to save the money to put elsewhere. Killian was beginning to think that perhaps it could go into fixing up the backyard if they got a dog.
"Looks good," Emma said after a while of standing there against Killian.
"It certainly does," he answered. Emma looked up and caught him looking straight at her instead of the newly varnished wooden doors.
"I love you," she whispered. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you." Killian knew she was talking about more than just the reno. She was talking about recovery. About moving on. About life.
"My love, my very heart, I wouldn't be here without you- and I don't just mean alive. I owe you everything. I love you too."
Emma turned to him, capturing his lips in a kiss. Killian picked her up and move her to the cupboard, setting her down, all without breaking contact. Emma threaded her fingers through his tangled hair and he moaned against her lips. It had been a week since they'd kissed like that, Emma scared to push and Killian overwhelmed by the guilt that had surfaced with the force of a tsunami.
The thump of the front door closing broke them apart, both breathing heavily. Henry came through the door, arms loaded with Tupperware containers. He stopped when he saw them together, skin flushed and lips swollen, and made a face.
"Ugh, gross," he groaned. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better Killian but get a room." Emma let her head fall against Killian's chest, hiding her blush.
"Technically I am in a room," Killian answered, eyebrow climbing, pretending to miss the reference.
"You know what I mean," Henry replied with a roll of his eyes. He dropped the containers full of stew and rolls on the counter. "Mom sent food. She says you're eating too much at Granny's." Henry looked between the couple again, eyes missing nothing and not being too thrilled with having to see it. "Mom's waiting for me outside, so I'm uh, gonna go." Without another word he turned and hurried from the house.
Emma let out an exasperated sigh. "Are we ever going to stop scarring him?"
"To be fair, this is probably not a scar in comparison to everything else," Killian answered, using humour to stop from getting choked up at the idea he had the opportunity to do such things with Henry. Emma considered him a member of her family, no matter what had happened. She allowed him into that parental role and didn't seem to have any regrets.
"Not helping," she answered, punching his shoulder. Emma pushed him away good-naturedly, sliding off the counter. "Come on Captain, let's remind our stomachs that people other than Granny can cook." Still riding the high of having the guilt lessened and being reminded of Emma's love for him, Killian ate two full servings before crawling into bed with Emma and immediately falling into a calm sleep.