Disclaimer: Reluctantly I have to admit that I don't own these characters. They are property of others far luckier than myself.
Sending out another round of thanks to all of you reading and reviewing. I appreciate the feedback.
"Did you need help with anything, Honey?" the pharmacist approached her in the medical supply aisle while she was rifling through it all looking for the best items to tend to her wounded pirate.
Emma asked several questions about wound care, trying to withhold the severity of Killian's injuries. She didn't need the authorities alerted. The less questions asked about Killian, the better, at least for the moment.
She'd used her position in law enforcement to get Killian into the system, at least so he was less conspicuous if something had ever happened to him. He now had a birth certificate and an identification card. She was in the process of getting him a social security card and would step up to get a passport next. She hadn't dared get him a driver's license for fear that he'd take to the road in a vehicle he had no training to operate.
Killian had thought her planning was silly and frivolous, but incidents like this current one were exactly why she'd done what she did. Had the wrong person asked, he could have been jailed or something worse she didn't even want to think about because technically in this world he didn't exist.
After getting the necessary supplies, she stopped at a decent looking restaurant and ordered two bowls of soup and a loaf of homemade bread. She hadn't realized until the smells of the establishment's home cooking hit her that she hadn't eaten since she'd left Storybrooke. She was famished.
"Taking care of a young one?" the waitress at the counter asked while she waited for the soup to be dished up in the proper containers.
"Something like that," Emma replied.
"Husband?" the waitress inquired.
"No," Emma smirked.
"Men are always such babies when they're sick," the waitress laughed, "My hubby just sits on the sofa and moans all day when he has the slightest fever. You'd think the world was going to end with the way he carries on."
Emma laughed along but didn't offer up anything further.
"I threw in a couple of desserts for when your fella is feeling better," the waitress handed her a bag with their meals.
"Thank you," Emma set down the appropriate bills on the counter and left without another word.
"These crackers you forced upon me are stale," Killian told Emma the instant she returned.
"Didn't stop you from inhaling them though," Emma brushed several crumbs away from his shirt.
"Sailors are used to stale food," he responded.
"Then why are you complaining?" she set the bowls of soup aside and then pulled out all of the medical supplies she'd procured.
First thing she had to do was disinfect his wound. She opened the bottle of disinfectant the pharmacist had recommended and wet one of the sterile clothes. "Hold still. This is going to sting a bit." Emma quickly removed the crude bandage he'd used to dress the wound and then began cleaning around the injured area. She wet another cloth, took a deep breath and then applied the disinfectant directly to the wound. Killian nearly shot up as straight as an arrow in response to the pain, but Emma was able to hold him down so he wouldn't rip at the sutures.
A long string of curse words left Killian's lips while she continued to disinfect the wound. He was convinced with the way she kept reapplying the disinfectant that she some sort of sadist.
"Last time," Emma cleansed the cut one final time before dressing it properly, adding some cream that would keep dirt from the wound and help it heal quicker.
The rest of the cuts to his face and hand were superficial. She dabbed at them with a wet cloth, but she didn't see the need to disinfect them. She was grateful that his eyes were mostly swollen shut so he couldn't see the tears trailing down her cheeks each time she'd caused him pain while she disinfected his wound.
"Can you sit up?" Emma asked once all his wounds were tended to. She'd remove his bloody shirt after he'd had a bit to eat.
"I might need some help," he stated rather reluctantly.
Emma understood his hesitation to ask for help. He'd been on his own most of his life. He'd only had himself to rely on. Even though they'd been in something resembling a relationship for nearly six months, he was reluctant to show any sense of vulnerability to her except when it came to how he felt about her.
Emma helped him slowly into a sitting position and tucked several pillows and blankets behind him to keep him propped up. "I brought soup and some bread. I'll feed it to you if you'd like."
Again he nodded reluctantly, but even he could figure out that feeding himself would be nearly impossible considering he could barely see.
"How did you find me?" he asked in between bites.
Emma went on to explain how worried she'd been when he hadn't checked in since he first arrived in Portsmouth, about her decision to search around for him, and then about all the places she'd gone to look for him.
"Good thing my lady is a sheriff," he tried to lighten the mood, "Might have taken a teacher days to find me. I'd likely have died of starvation in the interim."
"Not if the teacher was my mother," Emma snorted in amusement, "She probably would have found you within the first five minutes of arriving in Portsmouth. It took me a few hours."
"Thank you for being concerned about me," he whispered softly.
"Of course I worry about you, Killian," she caressed his stumbled chin softly, "I care about you. You know that."
"It's one thing to say so," he replied, "It's another to show it."
"I'd show you exactly how much, but I think it would hurt you greatly," she whispered seductively in his ear.
"I'd be willing to endure," he smiled as much as his facial lacerations would allow.
"Of course you would," she rolled her eyes as she stuffed a bite of bread into his mouth to keep him silent for a few moments.
With their meals consumed, Emma cleaned up the mess before retrieving his rucksack from her car.
"We need to change your shirt," Emma pushed the material up his torso.
"Anything to get me shirtless," he grinned.
"Will you stop with all the jokes," Emma scolded him, "You are seriously injured. Do you have any idea how worried I've been about you?"
"My apologies, Love," Killian grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, "It was not my intention."
"I know it isn't your fault," she sighed, "At least it's not all your fault…Your mouth does seem to get you in trouble from time to time. Did you get into an argument with someone for something?"
"I didn't see who jumped me," he slowly lifted his arms to aid in her lifting his shirt from his body. "It was dark as I was making my way back to the inn. A few of the lamppost's lights were out. I didn't see or hear anything until I was shoved against a wall."
"Did they say anything during or after they assaulted you?" she inspected the plethora of purple bruises that dotted his skin.
"Not that I can remember," he shook his head slowly, "It's all a bit of a blur at the moment."
"It's not important right now," she dug through his bag to find a clean shirt. She smiled when she stumbled across a photograph of herself that he'd obvious tucked inside. "When was this picture taken?"
Killian didn't need to see the picture to know what she as referencing. It was a gift Henry had given him during one of their afternoons of sailing only a week after his first date with Emma. Henry had given him the 'talk' about how Killian had better treat his mom right. He'd given Killian the picture as a memento of sorts.
"Henry gave it to me. Said he took it during your year in New York," Killian replied.
"Our day at Central Park Zoo," Emma recalled, "He must have taken it without me looking."
"You had a very pensive look," Killian stated.
"We'd been in New York for a few months," Emma explained, "I'd just had dinner with Walsh for the first time the night before. I'd had a pleasant evening, but something about the night didn't sit well with me."
"Perhaps it was because he was a flying monkey in disguise," Killian offered.
"No jokes out of you," Emma scolded him, "No, it felt more like I was betraying someone. I couldn't put a finger on it."
"Baelfire," Killian concluded.
"No," Emma stated softly, "You…I couldn't remember you saying it, but the emotions of what you said about thinking of me everyday stuck with me."
"You've never mentioned this before," Killian responded.
"I didn't have a reason to remember until now," she shifted on the bed to lay out next to him, her hand rested against his rhythmically beating heart. His shirt could wait. She needed to be in the comfort of his arms after a turbulent few days.
"I kept my promise," his good arm wrapped around her shoulders, "I thought of you everyday…most of everyday, actually."
"I missed you too," she smiled in response, "Even though I couldn't remember you. I felt something was missing. I missed my family, missed being part of a family."
"We missed you something fierce, Love," he whispered in her ear.
"I'm glad to be back in Storybrooke where I belong," she nuzzled into his neck with her nose.
"I should be well enough to travel tomorrow or the day after," he assured her, "You can travel back tonight or tomorrow morning if you want."
"You don't honestly think I'm going to let you sail by yourself while injured," she scoffed.
"You volunteering to be my first mate?" he inquired.
"If it comes to that," she nodded, "Perhaps I should call my father. He'd likely be of more assistance than myself."
"I'd rather have Henry at the wheel than your father," he spoke against her temple, "The lad is willing to listen to commands rather than challenge them."
"I'll think on it," she replied, "Get some rest. You'll need to see out of those eyes if you have any hope of sailing to Storybrooke."
"I'm a bit chilled, Love," he stated, "Would you see fit to redress me?"
Emma searched for a clean shirt and slipped it over his head without much effort. She removed the pillows and blankets from behind his back and laid him down gently. He grunted in pain as he settled back down but was able to find sleep with little effort.
Feeling a bit restless after keeping watch over her patient, she went searching through the various cabins when her phone rang.
"Emma, are you alright?" were the first words Mary Margaret asked when Emma answered the phone, "Your father told me about your journey to Portsmouth. Did you find Hook?"
"I'm fine," Emma was quick to assure her mother, "I found Killian. He's been injured. It's going to be a few days before he's fit to travel."
"Oh my goodness," Mary Margaret replied, "What happened?"
Emma went on to explain her search and Killian's condition.
"He's going to need help sailing back to Storybrooke whenever he's fit enough for the journey," Emma added to the end of her narrative.
"Let us know when he's ready for the journey, and we'll make sure he has more than enough help to get him back safely," Mary Margaret stated, "Any idea who hurt Killian?"
"He said he didn't see who it was that jumped him, but I wonder if a confrontation that he had earlier might have had something to do with it. Old Man Hallstrom said that Killian gave someone quite a fright," Emma replied, "If Killian behaves himself, I might go digging around a bit tomorrow on the docks."
"Be careful, Emma," the mother in Mary Margaret came out, "You're not in Storybrooke. You have no authority there. You'd be better off reporting the incident to the authorities and let them deal with it."
"I can't help it. I need to do something. Killian will never agree to report the incident. These cretins are free to walk around the docks, possibly hurt someone else," Emma felt tears well in her eyes. "He's hurt really bad, Mom."
"If you need some backup, your father or I can come down to help you," Mary Margaret offered.
"I can't ask you to do that," Emma wiped at her eyes, "The town needs a lawman, and Baby Neal needs his parents."
"Emma, you're our child just as much as Neal. While we didn't get much of a chance to raise you, we are still available whenever you need us," Mary Margaret replied, "And if you need us in Portsmouth, we will be there."
"Maybe in a day or so," Emma sighed, "Killian will need someone to help him sail back to Storybrooke anyways."
"We'll wait for your call," Mary Margaret stated, "And don't worry about Killian. He's far too stubborn to let a couple of dockside punks get him down for too long."
"I hope you're right," Emma chuckled slightly.
"Call us tomorrow with a report," Mary Margaret requested, "And be safe."
"I will," Emma disconnected the call and pocketed her phone. After drying her eyes she rifled through the assortment of books that Old Man Hallstrom must have left on board. She fleetingly thought about searching him out to ask if he wanted them back, but she concluded it would be best to talk to Killian first.
She returned to the Captain's cabin to find Killian asleep but muttering softly. His forehead was dripping with sweat. His skin was hot to the touch. His fever had obviously spiked. Emma grabbed for a cloth and wet it with water to lie over his forehead. She continued the process for several hours as she tried desperately to get his fever under control. More than once her fingers twitched towards her phone with the intention of calling for an ambulance, but she knew he'd hate her for it.
The sun was beginning to rise when his temperature finally came down to a normal level. He was mostly a dead weight while she changed his shirt again as he'd sweated through the one he'd been wearing.
"What time is it?" Killian coughed out as his eyes were able to open a sliver to see the sun peeking in.
"Nearly eight," Emma held a glass of water to his lips, "Drink."
Killian managed to sit up slightly and drink several gulps of water. "You look exhausted, Love. Didn't you sleep?"
"Didn't have the time," she pressed another wet cloth to his face, "You were running a high fever for most of the night.
"You stayed awake all night to tend to me?" he was touched by the thought.
"Of course," she smiled softly, "Why do you sound so surprised by my level of concern for your well being? We are in a relationship, Jones."
"Still a novelty, I'm afraid," he tangled his hand into her hair, "I'm not used to others caring about my welfare."
"Get used to it, Jones," Emma leaned into him and ghosted her lips over his, "Because I care quite a bit."
"And I you," he smiled as their lips met in a sweet kiss.
"Are you hungry?" she pulled back abruptly, "You should be eating as much as you can tolerate."
"I could do with a few eggs and some toast," he nodded, "And coffee."
"I'd best redress your cut first," she pulled the linen shirt up his torso.
"More disinfectant?" he gulped nervously.
"That depends on the state of the wound," Emma carefully pulled the tape away from his skin, doing her best to leave as much of his chest hair attached as possible.
"For all the advances of your modern medicine," he grumbled, "It sure is painful."
"I'm sorry," she brushed her fingers against his chest in a soothing manner, "I am trying to be careful."
"I know," he nodded.
With the bandage removed, there didn't appear to be any trace left of the infection she'd witnessed the previous day, but she thought it best to disinfect it at least once more especially since he's suffered through a fever the previous night.
Knowing what to expect, Killian was able to endure the pain by gritting his teeth.
"Finished," Emma proclaimed after a few minutes. She punctuated her statement with a kiss to the hollow between his clavicles, knowing that it was a sensitive spot for him.
"I think you've just started," he groaned in disappointment when she pulled away. He tried to reach for her hand, but she was just out of his reach. He didn't dare move too quickly for fear he'd tear himself open.
"I'll be back with breakfast," she vowed as she left him with one more kiss.
Killian slumped back onto the bed with a grunt of annoyance. She didn't shy away from his touch, but they'd yet to consummate their relationship in the traditional way. They'd come close on numerous occasions, but she was gun shy. He understood her hesitations. As she'd said, everyone she'd ever been with was dead. He had no intentions of ending up like her past loves. He'd done what he could to put her fears to rest, but this unfortunate incident clearly had her rattled.
TBC…
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