Four Years Later, Minus a Day
Emma stands next to Killian on the deck of the Roger, looking out over the waters of the Boston Harbor. She can see the tension the floods his body: the muscles moving in his back under her hand; the flex and relax of his jaw as he grinds his teeth, chews on the tip of his tongue; the movement of his arm as he runs his fingers along the curve of his hook.
They have spent the last four years sailing up and down the eastern coast of America, searching for adventure and revenge. Mr. Gold - the Dark One - Rumplestiltskin - whatever moniker he was hiding under these days, has disappeared from the Boston area, from the eyes of Captain Jones, and even with four years of searching for him, no one knew where he was.
But Boston became a tradition, even with how much it hurts him, to return to this very harbor on the anniversary of Milah's death, to the very place that Killian lost his love, visit the pub where they spent so many days together and share a drink in her honor. Sure, it hurt Emma, further proof that the man she traded everything she knew away for was still in love with his dead Milah (not to mention the tattoo on his forearm that was a constant reminder to him that she was gone), but the pain it caused Emma was nothing compared to the heartbreak that Killian goes through every year - every day.
When he turns to her, she is surprised - this is the first year that he has held himself together enough to not cry for Milah, to not let his tears fall into the same ocean that he dropped his love into four years ago.
"Killian," she says softly after a moment, but in lieu of an answer, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. It is as much of a sign as she requires: he wants to be alone. With a soft pat on the back, she leaves him there alone, looking over the waters. She saunders to the other side of the deck, looking towards the city as opposed to the open water.
She always ends up here, staring back at the city so different than the one that she knew under different circumstances. She gets lost in her thoughts, her mind rippling from one subject to the next: her childhood spent on these waters, her parents, the father she left behind to save Killian, and the future she had in the 21st century. She always gets stuck here, lost in the ocean of her thoughts, trying to decipher whether she made the right decision four years ago when she left behind everything she knew to save Killian from his death. When she closes her eyes, he is there, smiling at her on the best of days, a brightness of excitement and adventure in his blazing eyes. It has not been easy for her, spending all this time loving a man that is so closed off, unwilling to move on from the death of his Milah, but she owes him her patience - she knew it would not be an easy ride when she decided to stay, and she is sure in her heart that one day he would realize how much he means to her, how much she has done for him, and maybe allow himself to love again.
She feels a tear fall slowly down her cheek, one that she did not even know was coming. She does not wipe it away, letting it slip off her cheek and into the waters below - but before it can do that, she feels a soft finger against her skin, wiping it away, and she does not have to look up to see it is Killian.
Reaching up, she takes his hand in hers. "Killian," she whispers, barely audible over the sound of the waves, the water crashing against the hull of the ship. But he squeezes her hand in his, stopping her words before they can even begin.
"No, Emma, please. Let me." His voice is soft, sad, and she turns towards him, surprised by this outburst of emotion, even in the present circumstances. "Four years is a long time to be without someone, without the one that held your whole heart. But being here, feeling her here in the way that I do, made me realize something. This is not what she would have wanted. Milah had a heart full of love, love that I never deserved from her, but this - she would not have approved of how I have been acting. She never would have wanted me to drown my love for her in sadness, and my loss of her in rum. Never would have wanted my whole life to revolve around revenge for the man that took her from me.
"No, what she would have wanted is for me to allow my heart to be as full of love as she always was, to dedicate my time and my passion to something more light and lovely." He pauses for a moment. "To open my heart to love again, instead of continuing to darken it."
She takes a moment to lose herself in his eyes before she asks, "Are you - what are you trying to say?"
"I've seen the way you've been looking at me, Emma. Someone would have to be blind to miss the fact that you love me, but I never allowed myself to reciprocate for the sake of Milah's memory. But I have finally realized that she would not have wanted me to be pining over her, sad about her death, for the rest of my life. She would want me to give in to my feelings, to follow my heart, and allow myself to love someone the way I once loved her, someone that cares about me deeply."
"Killian," she breathes again, her heart pounding in her chest, in her ears, rattling her whole body, and she takes a slow, shaky breath. "Are you…" She knows exactly what she wants him to be saying, but she does not want to take the chance to reply and somehow be wrong.
But she does not need to - in lieu of a response, he leans in towards her, planting her lips against his. The fingers of his good hand twist in her golden curls, and she slides her hands up his chest to clutch the lapels of his leather jacket. Much to her surprise, she feels his tongue on her lower lip, as plea to deepen the kiss, even though it is the first one they have shared. The curve of his hook pressing on her hip, she turns them so her back is against the wall, his body pressing into hers. She reaches up, leaving one hand secure on his jacket, and weaves her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck.
After a few glorious moments, they break apart, Emma releasing his jacket to cup his stubbly cheek, staring into the never-ending bright blue soul found within his eyes. But there is something else there, something beyond the emotion tied to their shared kiss. Something… darker, peeking out from behind the light.
Keeping his body pressed against hers, she feels something in him change, a shift from the affection inside him to something more raw.
"Emma," he says finally, his voice a low growl. "Do you know how long it's been since I held a lass in my arms?"
"I would imagine about four years, right?" she replies with a smile, looking up at him shyly.
"Aye, but those four years have felt like a lifetime. Would you do me the honor of joining me in my cabin?"
"Now? Killian, are you sure?"
He takes a moment, looking deep into her eyes for some sort of clue as to her feelings. But after this moment, he says finally, "I have never been so sure of anything, Swan."
She looks over his shoulder, out onto the deck of the ship, where the crew seem to all be minding their own business, but she severely doubts that no one saw the kiss they just shared. He must sense what she is looking at, for he lifts her chin with his hook, pulling her gaze back to his.
"Do not worry about them, love. They have pledged their lives to serve me, and that includes keeping my secrets for me. All my secrets. And if those secrets involve you, then they are pledged to keep it to themselves." He kisses her again, pulling her body closer to his. "What say you, Emma? Will you join me?"
After spending a moment inside her own head, she realizes something: this is exactly why she decided to stay, in hopes that one day she would be able to call Killian her own. So now that he is finally giving himself to her, why is there any question in her head?
Getting no response from anywhere in her body, she smiles up at him, feeling her answer with her whole body: "Of course I will."
But as she follows him to the captain's cabin, she realizes something: He has bared his whole heart to her, leaving nothing behind. It's time for her to do the same.
He closes the door behind them, already sliding his arms out of his jacket. Emma hangs it on the hook behind him, but then stops his from continuing by taking his hand in hers and wrapping her fingers softly around his hook.
"Killian, I have something I need to say first," she says softly, sitting him on the bed. "Promise me it won't change the way you feel about me, though?"
"Aye, love."
And so she tells him. She tells him everything, her words starting slowly as she paces across the room before him: how she was born in the year 1983, raised in Boston at that time, and followed her father into the police force; her marriage with Neal, his death, and her reaction to it; how the mayor's wife went missing, and when she was searching for her, she found herself in the year 1818, two hundred years before she left, in just moments; how she found herself in the tavern, drawn to him like a fly to honey. She told him that in order to save him, she gave up the ability to return home, to a world where everything was clean and new and made sense - a world that she traded for his freedom, for the hopes that one day he would realize he returned her affections. She told him everything, and he listened intently, his eyes following her around the room as she continued to pace.
When she is finished, she leans on the table, her knees almost touching his, her eyes fixed to a spot on the floor between them.
Killian takes a minute to process all of this information, keeping his eyes fixed on Emma, but when he finally speaks, he asks the one question that he cannot fathom in his thoughts:
"You gave up your ability to return home for me?"
She raises her head to meet his eyes, surprised that this is the first thing he needs to ask her after all of the information that she has just dumped on him.
"I spent over ten years dedicating myself to saving the innocent, Killian. For every case I worked, I was sure to gather all of the evidence I needed before pointing fingers, especially in something as important as a murder case. It's not my style to let someone pay for crimes they did not commit, and it was definitely not my style to let you suffer further for what happened to you. So when I had an opportunity to free you, the ability to save your life, I took it. Even if it was selfish, hoping that one day you would maybe be able to return the feelings that I had for you, I had to do it."
His lips were on hers as soon as she got out the last word, his arms wrapped around her, and her fingers find their way into his hair again. There is nothing holding them back this time, and he spins them around, her legs against the mattress for just a moment before he lays her down upon it, gently pulling himself on top of her. Her fingers find the buttons of his vest, quickly relieving him of it and tossing it to the floor. She runs her hands over his bare chest, feeling him beneath her hands, the stretch of his muscles, the pounding of his heart.
Everything about being with him feels so perfect, and they fit together like they were made to be that way. Being with him, having him for herself, is something that she has dreamed, imagined, daydreamed about over the past four years, since the very first night she saw him in that tavern. But actually having him here with her, together in every way, is better than anything she ever imagined.
At first, he is gentle, holding her close and discovering the things she likes most, running his hand over as much of her body as he can reach, learning the feel of her skin, the curves of her; but when he hears her call out his name, her fingernails digging into the skin of his back, it awakens something within him, an energy that he finds himself suddenly unable to contain, using it to get him to his peak.
He collapses next to her, holding her body against his.
"Well, fuck," she says finally, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.
"Aye, love. That we did." His voice is hot on the back of her neck, sending a chill down her spine.
"Now what do we do?" she asks, turning her body around to face him, her fingers stroking the back of his neck, searching his eyes for some sort of answer.
"Well, love, we have the whole world before us. Where is it you would like to go most?"