Episode 4x12, continued

Content warning: Bedsharing outside of marriage.

"Heart, Hand, and Hook"

Emma and Killian had once been neighbors at Granny's inn. For the first few weeks after their return to Storybrooke, Emma and Henry had stayed in the room across the hall from Killian's.

It was odd, but also quite satisfying, to return to the familiar environment in entirely new circumstances. They held hands as they crossed the street and climbed the stairs to Killian's room. He held the door open for her and welcomed her with a grand sweep of his arm. Emma turned on the electric light as she entered, and Hook followed close behind.

Once the door was closed behind them, they regarded each other for a moment.

"I'll be honest," Killian said quietly, "this isn't how I would have envisioned our first night together."

She raised a brow at him. "How would you have pictured it?"

His smile was both wry and wistful. "A cozy but comfortable ship's cabin, with all the luxuries gold can buy … and no wolfish matron waiting to hear and gossip about our activities."

Emma laughed, but she followed Killian's gaze around the room. "In seriousness, I would have prepared something better than this," he said. It was tidy enough, and quite homey, but he would have done something more romantic—candles, flowers, drinks.

"Well, if we're being serious … I haven't spent a night with someone in a long time, even just to sleep." Emma paused, and waited until he faced her again. She had a strange, almost childlike look in her eyes, like she was afraid of disappointing him. "So … is it okay if we take things slow? Save the romantic stuff for the future?"

Killian smiled in spite of himself. The knowledge that he had a future at all, Emma's faith that he would have one, and her desire to be a part of it, eclipsed any disappointment he might have felt. He smoothed her hair back with his hand. "Of course, Swan. We can go at whatever pace you wish."

Gratitude and tears filled her eyes, and she hugged him. "Thank you. It's not that I don't want things to move forward with us, I just—"

"You don't have to explain, Emma." He held her tightly and kissed the side of her head. "I'm just glad to have you with me." As she pulled back, he took her hand in his once more. "And as you're my guest tonight, it's my job to make sure you're comfortable. So please, tell me what you'd like. Your request is my command."

She glanced around uncertainly. "Mind if I use the bathroom?"

He bowed with a sweep of his arm. "By all means."

She changed in the bathroom while he undressed in the bedroom. It was almost like when they had camped together in Neverland, finding private but nearby places to clean or relieve themselves, not caring much about how they looked.

When Emma came out, her hair damp and pulled back in a ponytail, Killian was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a T-shirt and knit pants. It was the first time Emma saw him in short sleeves, revealing the tattoos on his arms and the leather brace attached to his left wrist. He was holding his hook in his hand, contemplating it.

Emma came over and sat next to Killian on his right. She took his arm with her left hand, slid her right hand over his, and laid her head on his shoulder. He rested his cheek against her head as they looked at his hook.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

Killian did not answer immediately. When he did, it was with a grim line of thought. "The crocodile … he's really gone?"

"Gone," Emma soothed. "He can't hurt either of us."

"I hope that's true. I doubt he'll resign himself to wandering about the land without magic. But I suppose that makes him mortal now … maybe he'll finally just die." He sounded hopeful.

Emma lifted her head and looked at him warily. "You're not gonna try to kill him again, are you?"

He smiled in reassurance. "No, love. I'd rather stay where I know he can't go, with the people he can't defeat."

"Good." Emma leaned on him again, squeezing his hand. "I can't believe he almost took you from me."

"I can't believe he almost took you from me." Killian paused. "Actually, I can believe he'd hurt me any way he could—but not that he'd take you from your family … and his. He still cares about Henry, enough to want to spare him from the mirror spell, but not enough to make him care about the rest of us."

"Yeah." Emma hesitated. When she spoke, there was pain in her voice, and she had to pause now and then. "I didn't tell you this at the time, but … when Neal was dying, he told me he wanted me to find a home—the kind of home he and I used to talk about having—even if it wasn't with him. He said he wanted Henry and me to be happy, and that he would be watching over us from somewhere."

Killian waited, and Emma's tone became bitter as she went on. "What's really messed up is that Gold was with us. He knew—he knows how much Henry and I meant to his son. And Gold knows what you mean to Henry and me. I thought he at least cared about us for Neal's sake."

"So did I. When he was restraining me, I reminded him that you're the mother of his grandchild. Even that didn't matter to him."

Emma was thoughtful. "You seem to draw a lot of villains who want to cut deals with you. Cora, Pan, Zelena, even your archnemesis Rumplestiltskin."

Killian shrugged his other shoulder. "When you're a pirate, you make a lot of deals with unsavory characters. But you're right; I've been backed into a corner more times than I'd like to remember. I will avoid that in the future," he vowed.

"Thanks. Just remember, if it does happen … you don't have to sort it out on your own. It took me a long time to open up to my family … to trust them, to rely on them. I've always been used to operating alone. But neither of us is alone anymore. We have each other, and all our friends. So next time something happens, where someone's life is in danger or some secret might be revealed, you don't have to carry it alone."

"I'll try to remember that," Killian promised. He looked down at his hook again, turning it back and forth in his lap. "But while we're on the subject of honesty, there's something I want to ask you about."

Emma lifted her head from his shoulder and saw how troubled he looked. There was an uncharacteristic self-consciousness in his eyes. "What is it?"

His gaze flickered between her face and his hook. "Does it … matter to you whether I have one hand or two?"

Emma stared, gaping slightly in bewilderment.

Killian continued, "The Dark One may be gone, but if you or Regina give it a try, or if the fairies return … I could have my hand again."

Emma looked at him with a furrowed brow. "I think my preference doesn't matter as much as yours," she said slowly. "I mean, I'm used to seeing you without it, but I'm sure it would make your life easier. But no, it doesn't matter to me. Why?"

"I left out part of my confession. I didn't want to say it in front of your parents." Hook kept his gaze downcast. "The truth is … the reason I wanted my old hand back in the first place … was so I could hold you with both hands, if you wanted."

"Oh, Killian." Emma turned toward him, and held his hand the way she had after their first date, palm to palm, their fingers interlaced. With her other hand, she reached for his hook, pulling him so he had to face her directly. "Look. I'll admit, it was nice on our first date … but not because you had a hand; just because it was your hand."

Killian's expression was dubious, not quite understanding. As he pondered her words, Emma remembered something she had heard him say just a short while earlier. "In your phone message, you said you wanted to be a better man for me. You don't need your hand for that."

His lips turned up in a slight but sincere smile. "I appreciate that, Swan." He held up his hook with her fingers still curled around its curve. "But the fact remains: if we become more … intimate, a hook isn't as comfortable as a hand would be. Of course, I can take it off, but I'm not sure you'd want to see what's left there."

Emma considered the metal prosthetic, examining it with both hands now. She tilted her head, her eyes darting between his face and his hook. "Maybe we can … see if it fits somewhere on me."

Killian looked at her, his brow rising in surprise. "Oh?"

Her smile was more than a little suggestive. "I seem to remember you catching my ankle with it in a fight. Maybe it can catch other things."

An incredulous, almost wicked smile spread across his face. She let go of him as he held up his hook, using it to tilt her chin up towards him.

"Is this alright, then?" He gently slid the hook flat against her cheek and the side of her head, until it cupped her ear.

"Yeah," she breathed. She lifted her hands to his shoulders as he brought his hook and hand to her back. Then they were kissing, and when they fell onto the mattress, it was impossible to say which of them had pulled the other down.

For a long time they did nothing but kiss and cuddle, finding new ways to hold each other. They paused every now and then just to admire and smile at each other, taking in their presence, appreciating the fact that they were alive. They were still painfully aware of how close they had come to losing their lives, but also blissfully relieved that they had survived and were still together.

As it turned out, the hook fit rather nicely around Emma's shoulders and arms. Killian kept asking if it felt alright, worried that the tip might prick her if he was careless. She insisted that it was fine, and in fact welcome.

At one point, as they parted from a kiss, Killian asked, "Sure you don't miss the hand?"

"Not in the slightest," Emma assured him.

He finally took the hook off, brace and all, when they were getting tired and ready to sleep. Killian hardly ever allowed anyone the chance to see him without the brace, let alone touch the scarred stump at the end of his arm. But Emma examined it gently, asking his permission before she touched it. He shivered, and it was hard to tell whether it was from phantom pain or simply the effect of her touch.

"Not the prettiest part of me," he said with a self-deprecating smile.

Emma gave him one of her sardonic smiles. Then, to his surprise, she pressed a kiss to the wound, and then held his wrist against her chest. "If you feel like you need your hand, you should get it. But you've already changed for the better, in every way that matters to me. I wouldn't change anything else about you."

Killian studied her, processing her words. Soon enough, his cheeky smile returned. He held up his prosthetic in his hand, rotating it with his fingers. "So you are a fan of my hook?"

Emma knew what he was doing, echoing words they had exchanged just days earlier; but she took the opening anyway, because it was true. With one hand on his wrist, and the other grasping his hand with his hook between their palms, she answered, "I'm a fan of every part of you … hooks, wounds, and all."

"Well then." He leaned toward her, his voice quiet as he spoke. "If you like me this way, this is how I shall stay."

Their lips met in a kiss, and somehow she got the hook from his hand as they fumblingly put their arms around each other. He could feel the hard curve against his back as she held him.

When he reflected on his decision, Killian knew it was the right one.

He was not the same man he had been before losing his hand. The hook was a souvenir of the day he lost his first love and began his quest for vengeance. A part of him had died that day; his maiming seemed symbolic of everything the Dark One had taken from him. The hook was like a physical representation of his loss.

At this point, he had spent much longer living with one hand than with two. His handicap had become such a part of his identity that it served as his name. Even though he had moved on to this new phase of his life, those wounds had shaped him, and he would always carry them.

He had won Emma's heart as a one-handed man, so that was who he would be.

He pressed a final kiss to her forehead, then shifted to lie down on his back. Emma settled herself on his left side, lying half top of him. She rested her head on his chest, where she could feel his heart beating strong and steady. His left arm rested around her waist, while his hand was free to hold her, stroking her hair and back.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

"Yeah." After a pause she asked, "How's your heart?"

"Perfectly content." He pressed his face against her hair and murmured, "And happy that you're with me."

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, resting her chin on his chest as she smiled at him. "Me too." She pressed one more kiss to his lips, then laid her head down. "Goodnight, Killian."

"Goodnight, Emma."

Emma was the first of them to wake the next morning. Initially, she was disoriented, her mind flashing to several different points in her life: lying with Neal in the back of the bug, one-night stands with men whose names she could barely remember, her time as a guest at Granny's inn. But when she turned her head and saw Killian's face, she relaxed.

She could not bring herself to wake him when he was so peaceful, after everything he had been through lately. So she waited and watched him, counting his breaths and heartbeats.

It was strange to think that she had held that heart in her own hands. It made her remember Graham again. She was immensely grateful that this time, she had been able to rescue and restore the heart of the man she cared for.

Emma had been fearful of losing Killian, both when they started dating and when they discovered Gold's plot; but now she was filled with confident resolve.

She would not allow anyone to take Killian from her the way Graham and Neal had been taken. She would do whatever it took to protect him.

Killian slept better that night than he had in weeks. The anxiety and tension that had marked both his waking and sleeping hours was gone. His dreams were peaceful.

When he woke, it was to find something that he had, for some time, longed for but thought nearly impossible: Emma Swan lying in his arms, looking at him with an impossibly tender expression.

When his eyes met hers, she smiled, reached up and pushed his bangs out of his face. "Hey, handsome," she greeted him teasingly, the same way he had once greeted her.

Killian matched her smile. "Is this a dream? I'm sure I've had dreams like this."

"Do you need me to prove you're awake?" she asked mischievously.

He grinned and tightened his arms around her. "No need. If this is a dream, I'll gladly remain in it."

For a while neither of them moved, not wanting to break the peace they were finally enjoying together.

"Did you imagine this?" Emma asked. "When we were apart?"

Killian chuckled as he ran his fingers through her hair. "And before, and after. If I had a doubloon for every time, I could buy back the Jolly Roger."

The mention of the ship made Emma look at him sympathetically. "You must miss her."

He heard the implicit question: did he regret trading his ship away for her? Was he unhappy about giving up piracy and living on land?

"Not as much as I missed you," he said softly. She responded by hugging him more tightly.

Eventually, Emma's phone buzzed, and she got up to check her messages. "David is covering for me at the sheriff's station, but Henry wants to meet up later." She sat on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under her and the other hanging over the side. "Do you want to get some breakfast downstairs? Or bring some up here?"

Killian sat up and reattached his brace and hook. "Perhaps we could bring some food down to the docks? Enjoy the quiet before the work begins."

"Sounds perfect."

They took turns washing and dressing in the bathroom. Before they stepped out into the hall, they paused to share one more slow, deep kiss.

When they finally drew back, Emma kept her hands on his neck, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. "I'm really glad to have you, Killian," she said softly.

He raised a brow at her, both teasing and curious. "Have me?"

She blushed and rolled her eyes, but spoke earnestly. "I mean, the fact that you're alive, and here, with me. That you care about me and my family. I know I don't say it often, but it means a lot."

He nodded. "Aye, love. I feel the same way about you, and your caring for me. It means … more than this world to me."

She smiled, such a bright and rare sight, and then she hugged him. For a moment they simply held each other, just as tightly as they had after many of their recent near-death experiences, only now they were completely at ease.

They left Granny's inn the same way they had arrived, hand in hand, determined not to be separated.

Author's Notes

I am SO relieved to have finally finished the Episode 4x12 arc! It was difficult to figure out the structure, the content, and how to harmonize my ideas with canon. (I know, this is fan fiction, but for projects like this, I still care about being in-character and consistent with the timeline!)

I've also been indecisive about whether to use the name Hook or Killian in narration. I made the switch to Killian here because so much of the conversation involved his hook, and because he has come far enough that he and his friends think of him more as Killian.