Not to be dramatic but Disney Zombies gave us one of the best Disney couples yet. Besides the fact that they’re cute together, they actually communicate with each other and TELL EACH OTHER HOW THEY FEEL! Many a times i’ve watched movies-Disney and non Disney where the couple keeps secrets from each other and hide things from their significant other and I hATE IT! ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S A HUGE PLOT POINT! Even when Zed and Addison can’t be seen in public together they send each other notes and communicate HOW THEY FEEL! This is so important people need to be open in relationships and feel safe enough to tell their significant other things. It’s so unhealthy to NOT COMMUNicate! For example when Addison’s parents want to meet Zed, Addison tells him STRAIGHT UP that they won’t like him cause he’s a Zombie, she doesn’t hide it from him and cause more stress on the relationship by keeping that info to herself. CAN PEOPLE please stop using this not-communicating trope in movies and shows its so old, annoying and un-healthy for both partners. That’s all folks.
Summary: Killian Jones is a gentleman. He and his brother pride themselves on the matter, even if it ends with harm to them. So when an angry ex of Killian’s client bites him, he tends to the wound, watches it heal, and thinks no more of it.Until he wakes up in a closet on his ship with no memory of what happened the night of the full moon.
Fleeing from the unknown, the brothers Jones find Storybrooke, and with it, Emma Swan, who is a lot more familiar with their situation than anyone could expect. And when an old foe comes to their new home, Killian has to rely on new talents to keep those he loves safe.
Rating: M for language, violence, some sexual content. (better safe than sorry)
Content warnings: violence
Thanks to @killiarious, @wellhellotragic, and the mods at @captainswanbigbang for all that you’ve done. hope what's left of 2018 treats you all well and that 2019 sets you up for the best year yet!
Ao3
Chapter Fourteen
When he’s calm enough to change back to human form, Killian digs out his phone and calls Liam down at the station. Bless his elder brother, Killian can hear the sob he holds back when he hears that Emma’s alright. He feels emotional in the same way, just can’t have the breakdown Liam might be having right now.
As he hangs up, Killian searches for his Swan. Emma’s sitting under a copse of trees at the end of the drive. She’s beautiful in the crisp evening air, her eyes closed as if she’s taking a nap. Which, in all likely reality, she probably is. It’s been a long and trying day for the both of them.
The three of them, he mentally corrects himself.
They’re all safe.
He reaches her side just as the lights of first responders break through the spaces in the forest. Their sirens startle him slightly, but Emma merely opens her eyes and relaxes further into the earth beneath her. Four police cars lead the pack, followed shortly by an ambulance.
“You shouldn’t have,” Emma says sarcastically. Killian knows without looking she’s holding out a hand, silently asking for his help to stand. He grants it to her - as if he would do anything else - and watches as she brings herself up.
“To be fair, I didn’t,” Killian says with a shrug. She squeezes his hand, gaining his attention and begging the question hanging between them. Shrugging again, Killian supplies, “I told Liam you were okay.”
“And he apparently didn’t listen.”
“As much as you wish you weren’t, love, and as much as you can pretend that you’re invincible, you are pregnant,” he gently reminds her. His arm comes around her shoulders. Emma tilts her head until it rests on his shoulders. Connected like this, he can definitely feel the fatigue wafting off of her, the stress stretching her muscles. Both pairs of eyes watch the investigation unfold before them; Liam, of course, is heading up operations. Killian kisses the top of her head. His eyes follow his other hand as it comes to rest on Emma’s belly. “There’s a pup in there who needs looking after.”
He can feel her eyes roll as her hand comes up to slap him in the sternum. “Trust me, she’s fine,” Emma assures him. Exhaling heavily, she straightens up. “Well, let’s get this over with.” She leaves him to his own thoughts, approaching the EMTs already unloading an unnecessary gurney.
Killian, however, feels starry-eyed and struck with awe. A lot has happened in the past, oh, 48 hours, far too many conversations and revelations to process in a timely matter. His mind’s probably just filed away Neal agreeing to come to Storybrooke and discuss matter with his father.
But this is the coup de grace. Because as his Swan nonchalantly revealed, both of his girls are fine. Both.
His eyes widening, Killian scrubs his hand over his face. Then he rakes it through his hair. And then he stands there, watching Emma reluctantly accept the ministrations of the EMTs from afar, hands on his hips.
She can’t have said that and meant it, right? She’s tired and coming down from an adrenaline high, not to mention any potential mental or physical trauma she might be experiencing. It was a mere slip of the tongue. It had to be.
Slowly, Killian makes his way to the ambulance, its sirens gone quiet until its next emergency, muddling his way through the brink of a mental breakdown as he dodges officers taking evidence and such. Emma’s sitting on the metal ledge on the back of the medical truck, one of those silly aluminium blankets wrapped over her shoulders. She looks frustrated with the medics asking her questions, her eyes on the verge of rolling out of her head. Still, she sits and nods until he comes up to them, catching the tail end of their conversation.
“Just watch how much you exert yourself for a couple days,” the EMT says, patting Emma on the shoulder. “Take a day or two off, catch up on your Netflix queue.”
“You sound just like him and his brother.”
The medic shoots Killian a glance. “Sheriff Swan, I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure they want the best for you, just like we all do.”
Emma sighs. “I know, Craig. Thank you.”
Unable to say anything, Killian nods to the EMTs. They take their leave, heading back to report Emma’s condition for the police report.
He scratches behind his ear, unsure of how to address the entire situation that’s presented itself to him.
“I’m fine,” Emma reassures him, grabbing his hand. She smiles softly, looking up at him. Sure, he was worried for her, he always is, but that’s not his main concern at the moment.
It takes him a couple more seconds to formulate the question he wishes to ask. When it comes out, all he can say is, “She’s fine?”
Emma hums in confusion for a second. “Yeah. Was that something I didn’t tell you?”
Killian laughs, straight up chortles, releasing all the nerves he’s had pent up for days. “I thought you told the doctor, and I am quoting you directly, ‘This kid was a surprise, so might as well hold out to the end.’”
Inhaling through her teeth, Emma responds, “I did.” She squints, her nose scrunching up in the adorably recognizable way that she does when she’s feeling a bit guilty. “I don’t know, call it instinct or something, but we’re having a girl.”
Brow raised, Killian nudges her, swinging their hands gently. “How sure would you say you are?”
Emma winces again, her head swaying from side to side. “Like, 99 percent sure.” Killian feels his jaw drop and hang perilously close to the ground. Shrugging, Emma continues, “I don’t know! It’s just sort of this vibe, sort of like our bond. There aren’t any words, but I’m confident that the pup here,” she gestures toward her stomach before looking him straight in the eye, “is a little girl.”
“A girl.” It’s unbelievable. Every day since Emma told him, Killian’s had to reconcile with the fact that they’ll actually be parents in a matter of months. But now, armed with the knowledge that he’s most likely going to be father to a daughter, he’s gobsmacked. He grabs Emma’s cheeks and all but yanks her into yet another passionate kiss and embrace. When he pulls back, she’s got this smile on her face that he’s sure is even dopier on his face. “Thank you, my love,” he whispers. Then he sits up straight, his face serious. “She’s not dating until she’s 30.”
Laughing out right, Emma caresses his cheek, the scratch of her nails comforting through his facial hair. “She’s not even here yet and you’re a mess.”
Their conversation is put on hold as Liam, official sheriff’s office face on, comes over. He brushes off his hands and sticks his notepad in his back pocket. “So he’s injured, but under arrest for kidnapping at least,” he explains, looking at the pair of them. “Probably something else like reckless endangerment of a child or something. EMTS will take him to the hospital and then we’ll book him.” Sighing, Liam rubs at his brow and then reaches for Emma, gently holding her forearm. “Are you okay, Emma?”
She shakes her head, an exasperated chuckle issuing from her mouth. “As I told your brother here, we are fine. Even the professionals say so,” she assures him. “A little shaken up and a little sore because I don’t bend that way anymore, but otherwise still healthy on all fronts.” Pointing at her stomach, Emma adds, “Still pregnant.”
“Yes, I deduced that,” Liam laughs. Then he glances at Killian. His mind isn’t keeping up with the conversation completely. He’s still stuck on the fact that they’re going to have a daughter and how he isn’t going to allow her out of the house with a boy ever. “Killian? You there? Would you like us to rehash the conversation there, little brother?”
Killian shakes his head, breaking himself out of his thoughts of the future. He looks to Emma, whose hand has, at some point, slid into his. “Does he know?” he asks.
With a small grin and a scoff, she shakes her head. “Do you really think that’s something I would tell Liam before I tell you, the father of this child?”
“Tell me what?”
Cocking his brow, Killian squeezes Emma’s hand. “May I tell him?”
“Tell me what? He asks again, this time a little more concerned. “What’s going on? You said you were alright.”
Emma nods in response to Killian’s question and he is helpless to the bright smile that rocks his face. He looks to Liam as he moves his arm to wrap it around her shoulders and pulls her close. “Despite telling the doctor she wanted to keep it a secret, Swan here has just informed me that she’s quite sure we are going to be the proud parents of a daughter.”
“A daughter?” Liam repeats breathlessly. “A little girl?” His smile is identical to Killian’s when he claps his hands over his mouth and laughs into them. Then he grabs his brother’s free hand and pumps it up and down enthusiastically in congratulations. Together, they all laugh in happiness.
And then Emma’s face falls a little bit as her laughter turns into expectant surprise. “Oh no,” she mumbles.
Killian’s hands fly to her stomach and Liam goes to hold her as if she’s about to fall. “What’s wrong?” Liam asks as Killian asks, “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”
Shaking her head and chuckling, Emma waves them off. “Nope, still good,” she reassures them. “No, I just realized that you two are going to fight for her affections from the moment she’s born.” Looking to Liam, she says, “Are you going to keep her from dating until she’s 30 as well?”
“Of course,” Liam says vehemently. “But if and when she decides to go behind your backs, Uncle Liam will be there to help hide their relationship and be there to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.” He holds up his hands, conceding to getting ahead of all of them, frankly. “So long as I am her favorite uncle, I’ll follow your lead.”
“I have a feeling that won’t be too difficult to swing,” Emma says, resting her hand on her stomach.
“I don’t know,” Killian jests, quickly scanning the scores of first responders, all who know Emma and care for their sheriff. “This town has quite a few contenders.”
“I was gonna say, I might have to concede to Craig,” Liam jokes.
“Yeah, but Craig doesn’t have an in like you do,” Emma reminds him with a smile.
Liam steps forward and gently hugs Emma as best he can. She presses her lips to his cheek before he pulls away. Then he slaps Killian on the shoulder and pulls him into a tight hug. “Congrats, little brother,” he says quietly before addressing the both of them with, “Congrats to the both of you.”
Emma and Killian barely have enough time to utter a thank you before Liam’s fellow officers are calling him back to the scene. He waves them away for another minute, his face one of obvious undesire, and looks back at Killian.
“I’ve got to get back to the station and tell his son. Might as well drop him off at the hospital as well while I’m at it. You guys want to catch a ride?” he asks.
Even if he weren’t standing next to her, still looking her over for any sign of harm, and even if they were connected by a bond that immediately floods with the feeling of no, Killian knows Emma’s answer would be “Not if hell had frozen over.” However, with recent events and a knack for not censoring herself lately, Killian squeezes her shoulder and responds to his brother’s offer for her.
“No, that’s okay, we can ride with someone else.”
Nodding, Liam gives them both one last hug before returning to his official duties as acting sheriff. He departs them with a warning: “I’m still going to be favorite uncle. Don’t let any of these blokes here convince you otherwise.”
Killian chuckles and Emma merely smiles. Her one hand cradles the bottom of her belly as the other strokes over it. Watching her do so makes a stupid silly grin grow on his face. One that she spots easily.
“You want to feel her?” she asks. WIthout waiting for his answer, she takes the hand that isn’t wrapped around her shoulders and places it on her stomach. Killian watches as she closes her eyes and leans her head on his shoulder. Their little girl wiggles around beneath his hand, a welcome relief.
(It’s not that he didn’t believe Swan. It’s just comforting to feel the evidence himself.)
“Talk to her,” Emma insists.
Of course, he does as she asks. Killian kneels before Emma, his hands carefully and precisely framing her stomach. He rests his forehead against her shirt, the pup scent wafting around ever so slightly at this distance.
“Hello there, little one,” he whispers. A foot reaches out and knicks the tip of his nose. He chuckles. “I'm so relieved you and your mum are okay.” He feels Emma’s fingers slide into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and he sighs. “You aren’t even here yet and you’ve already had quite the adventure, haven’t you?”
The longer he talks to her - no topic in particular gripping their interests - the more an overwhelming sense of love consumes him. If he weren’t already on his knees, he doesn’t see how he wouldn’t collapse. It leaves him breathless. There’s something off about it, something fluid but all encompassing. It’s as if he’s struggling to remember a word he knows exists and coming up empty.
“That’s her.” Emma’s voice still shows small signs of her trauma, harsh around the edges, but it’s strong. Killian stops talking for a moment and looks up at her. Despite her fingers in his hair, he half thought that Emma had fallen asleep standing up. Her eyes ease open and match his. “That feeling you don’t understand. That’s her. Every time you talk to her, that’s what I feel.”
It’s amazing. Incredible. Extraordinary. That their daughter loves him so much at this time in her life and he gets to feel it through nothing less than a miracle. Moved, Killian stands quickly and wraps his arms around Emma. He pulls her into his embrace and kisses her soundly. Her laughter vibrates wonderfully against his lips. Her smile tastes of sunshine.
“Already daddy’s little girl,” she remarks.
“Just like her mother, aye?” Killian bends down slightly as Emma laughs. He means to speak only to his daughter, knowing that Swan will hear him, but hoping she doesn’t choose to address it. “I love you, too,” he says to her stomach. “But we aren’t going to tell Uncle Liam that yet. Let’s let him think he’s going to have a fighting chance, aye?”
(Bless her heart, Emma tries to cover her laughter with a cough and fails.)
Summary: Killian Jones is a gentleman. He and his brother pride themselves on the matter, even if it ends with harm to them. So when an angry ex of Killian’s client bites him, he tends to the wound, watches it heal, and thinks no more of it.Until he wakes up in a closet on his ship with no memory of what happened the night of the full moon.
Fleeing from the unknown, the brothers Jones find Storybrooke, and with it, Emma Swan, who is a lot more familiar with their situation than anyone could expect. And when an old foe comes to their new home, Killian has to rely on new talents to keep those he loves safe.
Rating: M for language, violence, some sexual content. (better safe than sorry)
Content warnings: violence
Thanks to @killiarious, @wellhellotragic, and the mods at @captainswanbigbang. You know what for ;)
Ao3
Chapter Thirteen
When the New York skyline reappears in the windshield of his truck, Killian can’t help but let his jaw drop. It really hasn’t been that long since he’s seen it, but it still takes his breath away. It feels like eons - his life has changed immensely since the last time Killian roamed the streets and alleys of Manhattan.
And knowing that he’ll only be able to see the skyline from the other side of the river in New Jersey...well, it makes him a little bitter.
It’s embarrassing how easily Killian can find Neal’s address - at least once he was already looking him up in the database at the station while Emma was in the restroom. He’s in front of the apartment complex he’d heard from the phone before he can think twice about it. Searching the call box, Killian spots and presses the button next to the Gold slide. The door buzzes open.
The conversation is short on all fronts. Short words, short tempers, short length. Before Kilian really comprehends what’s going on, he’s stalking back down the stairs and outside.
Neal follows him, not ready for the conversation to end.
“Really, though, man, I’m curious as to why in your fucking right mind you think showing up on my doorstep was a great idea?” he asks, shouting it down the steps as Killian crosses the street toward the truck.
“You’ve got a lass, arse!” Killian rises to the jibe. “What wouldn’t you do to keep her safe?”
“I wouldn’t ask a fucking stranger to reunite and make amends with a man who fucking made his wife run away!”
Killian nearly yells back words he’d surely regret - this is not at all going to plan, he was supposed to kindly persuade Neal to visit Storybrooke - but his phone rings. Whipping it out of his pocket, Killian finds Liam of all people calling him. With Neal in the midst of his barrage of insults and comebacks, Killian swipes at his phone screen and holds the phone to his ear.
“She’s gone.”
Two words that make Killian’s blood chill, if not come to a halt in every vein and artery in his body.
“What?” Killian asks, waving at Neal to shut the fuck up. “Liam, what do you mean, she’s gone?”
His brother’s voice is frantic, obviously broken up about whatever’s happened back at home. “I had the late shift and Elsa was staying at the house with her. Elsa just rang me. She thought Emma was in the bathroom, but she went to check on her and she’s nowhere to be found.” Killian runs his hand through his hair, his eyes wide and jaw hanging. “I’ve got everyone out looking for her.”
There’s only one possible explanation. “It’s him,” Killian says with conviction.
“What’s wrong?” Neal’s made his way to Killian’s side, his voice calmer now, but anger and frustration still ebbing off him in waves.
Killian turns on him, the phone still pressed tightly to his ear. “Your father’s kidnapped my pregnant girlfriend.”
“Sounds like him,” Neal chuckles out heartlessly. “What a dick.”
Back in Storybrooke, Liam calls for Killian’s attention once more. “I’m going to find her, Killian, I promise you,” he pledges.
“You sure as hell will,’ Killian replies. “I’ve finished up here in Jersey. I'm on my way back now.” And with that, Killian hangs up and glares at Neal. “You’re coming with me,” Killian says with the strongest conviction he’s ever been able to muster. He grabs Neal’s arm and yanks him otward hte truck.
But Neal, unexpectedly, fights back. “Like hell I am,” he growls, pulling his arm free. “I haven’t so much as set foot in the city since I left it as a kid. I’m not going with a stranger to meet the man who abused and hurt my mother.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Killian comes up behind Neal and shoves him toward the cab. “My love and my child are in danger because of your father. You are his son. I will give him his family and he will give me mine.”
“Says who?”
“Me,” Killian growls. He can feel the wolf inside threaten to escape, his nostrils flared and his teeth bared. Something in his expression must frighten Neal, for he gets in to the truck’s cab with little more complaint.
The ride from Neal’s apartment in New Jersey back to Storybrooke usually runs around 6 hours. With his foot on the gas pedal from the moment they squeal out of the parking spot, Killian makes the drive in four. It’s silent the entire time, Killian lost in his thoughts while Neal probably stews in nerves and confusion of the past couple of hours.
Killian head straight to the sheriff’s station once they reach Storybrooke, peeling into the first open parking spot he can find. The car is barely in park when Killian slams his door shut and storms into the station. He can hear Neal’s hesitant footsteps, much slower, behind him. People are bustling about, Liam in the center of them all, shouting directions and checking papers Leroy hands to him. Killian barges up to his brother.
“What do you know so far?”
Liam shakes his head. “We’ve searched the place he’s staying, our house, all of her usual haunts,” he tells him. Graham comes up to him and says some sheriff gargon that Liam nods enthusiastically to. “We’re sending search parties out ot the woods just now.”
Nodding, Killian turns to Neal, who stands awkwardly behind him. “Stay here,” Killian commands. “Your father’s going to end up here in the end, no matter how long it takes for me to find him.”
Neal nods, but doesn’t say a word. Sensing the direness of the situation around - and the four hours of the drive gave him plenty of time to contemplate his decision - he heads through the bustling station ot the waiting chairs. He sits and settles in for what’s sure to be an even longer evening.
Killian turns back to Liam. The wolf inside him is furious raring to get out of the station and look for Emma.
Liam scrubs at his forehead in frustration. “This is my fault,” he mutters.
“Yes, it is!” At his brother’s gaping mouth, Killian throws his arm out. “You left her alone! You promised you would watch out for her!” Licking his lips, he shakes his head and begins pacing. THere’s too much going on in his brain right now, he can’t think straight. Every thought is just muddled with the primal instinct to protect the pack. “No, I apologize, I'm frustrated.”
“With good reason,” Liam assures him. “I shouldn’t have left her, but she was tired and she’s almost to her leave time. It made more sense for her to have one last girls’ night than for Ruby or Leroy to take a second night shift or for Emma to come and spend the night here.”
“No, I know.” Running a hand through his hair, Killian tries to stop himself from overreacting and completely losing control over what little part of the situation he has control over. He looks to Liam at his side. “I’m frightened for her, Liam. I don’t know what Gold might do to her.” He shakes his head again, correcting himself mentally before doing so verbally. “To them.”
Liam rests his hand on Killian’s shoulder. “We’re going to find her, little brother. This town isn’t all that large.” Quickly surveying the scene unfolding before them, he pulls Killian over to a quieter, more private corner. Even still, he whispers, “Although it might be worth tuning in to those more - ” He licks his lips as he contemplates his words - “predatory instincts of yours. We haven’t brought the dogs in, but I feel like you’d have a better sense for finding her, quite literally.”
“You’re right.”
His brother nods. “I know.” Liam pushes him off in the direction of the door. The back door leading straight to the forests surrounding town. “Go. I’ll hold down this fort.”
Killian gives him a singular nod. “Thanks, big brother.”
“Bring her home, Killian.”
He nods once more and rushes out of the station. The back door is barely open before Killian sprints to the treeline. Even as a human, he can run faster than an average man. He starts sniffing at the air, trying to find any hint of Emma. There’s the slightest scent of her, but it could be from his clothes or even Liam’s. It’s not worth following, and that frustrates him even further.
His desire to find her becomes so strong that, without any warning, his muscles rip apart, as do his clothes. His painful shout turns into a howl and he completely transforms outside of the cycle of the moon. His adrenaline is pumping.
He needs to find her.
Pack.
On all fours, Killian runs through the woods. He can feel the pricks of stick and splinters in his paws, but the further in to the forest he gets, the more he loses her scent.
And then he catches a taste of her in the wind, coming from way out of town. Killian makes a hairpin turn and heads in that direction. It’s the closest he’s felt of her in days. She’s got to be in the woods, he thinks, hurt and bleeding and dying or any combination of those. There aren’t any buildings this far out. He tries to reach out to her, tries to communicate with her in his head, to no avail. And that is the most frightening fact of all.
His lungs begin to protest, but Killian pushes himself harder.
Pack.
There can’t be anything out this way. He’s got to be close to the next town’s border or state park territory. His eyes scan the forest floor for any sign of Emma and is continually stunned when he finds none. Her scent is still lingering, fractionally stronger with each step he takes, so he’s at least traveling in the correct direction.
But then something catches his eye, off in the distance. Eaves. Eaves of a house. There’s a house out here. Old, rundown, creepy as all get out with the windows on the ground floor boarded up and the glass in those on the second floor broken.
And Emma’s scent is the strongest Killian’s smelled since he left to find Neal in New Jersey.
He sprints into the house, barreling through one of the boarded up windows. Her scent is overwhelming, emanating from above him. He doesn’t think, acts on instinct as he bolts up the stairs.
And then he hears her. Faintly, from the far end of the house. She isn’t saying words, but she’s make noises of distress that edges Killian nearly to his breaking point.
He busts through the door, breathing heavily. He’s entered the master bedroom. It has to be. There’s a ton of space and an abundance of windows overlooking the trees. In the center of room is a now dilapidated four-poster bed. In its heyday, this room most likely served as quite the safe haven for its occupants. It was probably quite lovely.
It’s not now.
Emma’s tied up on the old mattress, gagged with a scarf and lying on her side. Her hands are behind her back, forcing her stomach to bulge out from the rest of her body. His eyes pick up movement at her belly: a hand or a foot further stretching her skin in protest. Her eyes are red and puffy, like she’s been crying for a very long time, and that is not the sort of look Killian ever wants to see on her face ever again.
Even in human form, her senses are heightened, her body’s natural fight or flight instincts kicking in. Her gaze skitters about the room until it lands on him. She starts screaming at him through the cloth in her mouth, her cheeks growing red from her efforts. He stalks over toward her, carefully taking inventory of what he can see of her. She’s bruised, her hair stringy. The closer he gets to her, the louder her noises become.
Whatever’s been preventing their bond from freely flowing thus far breaks and Killian understands, loud and clear, what Emma is trying to verbalize.
RUN!
But it’s too late.
The slamming of the bedroom door shocks him. He whirls around to find Gold standing behind the door, an impishly creepy grin on his face.
“What a pleasure to see you again,” he says. Tilting his head to the side, he adds, “Such a shame that we meet under these circumstances.”
A growl rips itself from within Killian’s vocal chords. He jumps on the bed and crouches between Gold and Emma’s prone body. She keeps trying to say something, obviously no longer the warning she had been trying to give him previously, but certainly something as equally as pressing for her.
“Yes, she is quite lovely, isn't she?” Gold taunts. He walks on the tips of his toes, his cane mysteriously absent now. Nodding in Emma’s direction, he says, “We’ve gotten to know each other quite well in our short time together, haven’t we, dearie?”
Emma’s voice grows louder, though not anymore distinguishable. Whatever she saying, the displeasure and anger is evident in her voice. Despite everything, Killian has to think of her fondly: always a fiery one, his Swan.
“It’s a shame that she’s got to go.”
Fire burns through Killian’s entire body. This is his pack, he will protect them until the bitter end. He starts shouting and yelling, trying to verbally assault Gold into submission, only to realize that he’s still in wolf form. The only person he can speak to in his current predicament is his pack.
Emma.
He whips around, his tail swishing behind him, to look at her. She’s stopped crying for now, her voice quiet. With his snout, killian nudges the gag cloth out of her mouth. She coughs, quite a task in her current state, and catches her breath. Softly, he taps at her shoulder, trying to get her attention. He wants her to act as his voice, to tell this asshole imp of a man what he thinks of him.
“You fucking cocksucking sweaty ball rag of a man!”
Clearly, he’s not the only one who’s been having trouble expressing their feelings. That’s all Emma. Granted, Killian’s turn of phrase was just as dirty, but she's been the one tied up for who knows how long.
“You have no regard for basic human decency, especially for a pregnant woman who’s got to pee!”
Through their bond, Killian inquires as to Emma’s wellbeing. He can tell she really does have to go to the restroom, and her second foremost thought is for the pup. She looks at him, anger burning in her own eyes, and nods. “I’m going to be alright, I think,” she reassures him. And he’s happy to hear it.
But reality comes crashing back into him.
“Ah,” Gold chimes. “So he’s so riled up that he can’t rehumanize.” His laughter makes Killian’s fur stand up. “How interesting.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Emma growls. “You can’t hold me here. Half of town has got to be looking for me right now.” Killian sends a mental affirmation assuring her that, yes, someone is out there looking for her. He senses a small sigh of relief in the bond before her eyes turn back to Gold. “Now, fucking untie me before I pee myself and murder you.”
Tsking, Gold shakes his head. “How I wish I could, dearie,” he mutters, twirling his wrists and coming far too close for either of their likings. “But, as I’ve told your wolf here, everything comes with a price. He took my family from me. Now I take his family from him.”
Killian growls and pounces to standing. At the same time, Gold approaches the bed and Emma says, “Like hell you will.”
He jumps. Killian throws himself at Gold, who transforms into a wolf at the drop of a hat. Killian himself is thrown off his course. He’s never seen someone do that at any time other than the full moon. The man’s stature is smaller than even his human form, but whatever injury he might have is gone.
“You can’t kill me!” Killian’s taken aback when he hears Gold’s voice smacking around his head. “I made you what you are today! You were nothing without me. I am your alpha, your creator!”
“I am not nothing!”
“He’s not nothing!”
Emma’s voice is vehement as his thoughts are as their declarations coincide. She makes it even better, more harsh, by adding, “He’s a better man than you will ever be!”
(Later, when he’s not fighting for their safety, the cockles of his heart will warm and flourish. For now, he’s got other thoughts at the forefront of his mind.)
The fight continues, with nips to necks and kicking at the hind legs. Somehow, Killian pins Gold down as he snarls and spits recklessly.
“LIsten, you slimy git,” he growls. “Your son. Milah had a son with your sorry ass. I’ve found him.” That calms Gold, surprisingly. His breathing is still heavy, his eyes flighty around the room and his ears twitching, but he’s not biting at Killian’s maw, so Killian continues. “He’s here, in town. Grown, has his own child on the way.” He slightly eases off of Gold. “Speak with him, like a proper adult.”
“Leave us alone,” Emma adds, her voice low and threatening.
“You have family,” Killian says. “Just because your heart is cold doesn’t mean that his isn’t.” He backs off quickly and returns to Emma’s side. “You don’t deserve to have a family, in my opinion.”
And with that, Killian attacks, shoving Gold out the window and barking, “So stay away from mine!” in his head. He knows the imp can hear him. It won’t do much, but he’s out of sight for now, and therefore not a concern. That fall will at least wound him enough to slow him down, if not render him completely immobile for the moment.
Emma gasps from behind him, making Killian spin around and stalk back to her. She’s still tied up, and with a little effort, Killian frees her from binds. She stretches a bit while he curls up around her before her hands settle on his head.
“We’re okay,” she murmurs. Emma pets his face, holding it up to hers and kissing his snout. Even now, she rests her head against his forehead, a little sob bubbling up. “I love you.”
“And I you,” he tells her. Shaking his head, Kilian licks her cheek. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“Might have had something to do with the adrenaline. Fear or something,” she reasons. “I might have also accidentally blocked you out somehow when I was trying to figure out how to get out of here. I have no idea.”
They let the quiet simmer around them, Gold’s whimpers floating up from the forest ground. He must be quite injured, Killian thinks with perverted happiness.
“Did he say what he was going to do to you?” Killian asks.
Emma shrugs. “He mentioned a couple of ideas.”
A groan rips from his throat, and Killian shoots a glance toward the window. “I promised to keep you both safe.”
“A promise you kept in the end,” Emma reminds him. But then she shifts her body, pulling herself up further into a sitting position. “But a promise you’re at risk of breaking if you don’t untie my legs and get me to the toilet in this house or outside to a bush.” Killian laughs and begins working on the ties around her ankles. “I’m not kidding, Killian. I’m going to die of anemic poisoning, I’ve had to pee so bad since he kidnapped me.”
He pulls the rope free with his teeth, a smirk around his bared teeth. “I think the word you’re looking for, love, is uremia,” he corrects her.
Scooting to the edge of the mattress, Emma pauses a moment before standing. “Killian, I love you,” she says, “but I couldn’t give two shits about the right word if I tried right now.” Forcing herself up, Emma shoves his attempt at chivalry away. “Out of the way.”
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