“In some ways, they have quite similar backgrounds. They both were abandoned. Hook was abandoned as a child, as well. They both have lived just to survive for themselves and make a life to suit themselves, and in a way, they’ve connected through that.”Â
            "You and I, we understand each other."
“In the middle of the table, against the woven cloths upon the wall, there was a chair under a canopy, and there sat a lady fair to look upon … Young she was and yet not so. The braids of her dark hair were touched by no frost, her white arms and clear face were flawless and smooth, and the light of stars was in her bright eyes, grey as a cloudless night; yet queenly she looked, and thought and knowledge were in her glance, as of one who has known many things that the years bring.”
Captain Swan Secret Shipmate gift for the amazing sybbelle!Â
PART ONEÂ //Â PART TWOÂ
Summary: a cs fangirl’s take on the suggested events of episode 3x12. Hook and Emma deal with the aftermath of Emma regaining her memories and try to figure things out before heading back to Storybrooke. Rated T for some scenes of a sexual nature ^_^
Word Count:Â 3, 345
***
The blaring noises from the city streets assaulted him as two surly police officers chucked Hook out of the tall double doors of the New York City Police Station, his eyes adjusting to the bright morning sunshine. Staggering down the wide concrete steps Killian brushed himself off in frustration, the dust and dirt of a night spent in the decrepit jail cell adding to his discomfort. It wasn’t enough that Emma had busted him for trespassing, but he’d had a good 24 hours to stew over it in a cramped concrete prison with the likes of some rather intimidating gentlemen who held a serious distain for his appearance. Killian knew he should have rethought his wardrobe, regretting it the first time he’d stepped foot in this city in just his leathers, but he hoped it would help Swan remember him. Obviously not.
Killian began heading west, back towards the city gardens to regroup, not even noticing the blonde haired object of his affections waiting in the mid-day shadows of the nearby alleyway, watching him.
He got half a block down the street before she called to him, “Wait!”
“Swan,” he breathed with relief as she neared, her forehead still creased with tension. He spoke before she could in an attempt to comfort her. “I do love this back and forth we’ve established here, love, but next time I’d rather it not involve a night spent with three portly, quite sweaty blokes with questionable manners.”
He paused for a moment, watching the lines disappear from her face, clearly surprised by his jovial response to his imprisonment. Emma didn’t quite know how to respond to his humour, her serious intentions caught off guard by his bluntness. The edges of her lipsalmost tipped up in a smile so Killian continued.
“We pirates have the quite wicked reputation, but I do have standards. I felt like a piece of meat in there, love.” He smiled widely, hoping to ignite one upon her face as well. Killian could see it forming along the corners of her wide green eyes, eyelashes fluttering as she stared up at his face, but it never reached her stubborn mouth. She wasn’t rolling her eyes however, so Killian took it as a small victory.
“You do look like a fool,” she finally said, eyebrows raised as she looked over his leather clad form, the lack of humour apparent in her tone.
“Yes, but a handsome fool,” he countered. That did earn him an eye roll, but he was beginning to like them.
They were silent as they appraised one another, Emma looking everywhere but his face as she struggled to find the words that she’d come to tell him. It took everything within him not to reach out and hold her too him, the light from the high sun making her blonde waves sparkle with yellow and gold. Killian was still dejected from the other day when his kiss had done nothing to spark her memories, done nothing to break the curse that kept them apart. But seeing her in front of him after being separated for a year only strengthened his beliefs. She was it for him, and he’d spend all the necessary years waiting for her to feel the same. He was nothing if not patient.
Giving into his urge to touch her, Killian reached out and fingered a loose strand of her hair that had fallen in front of her face and simply tucked it back behind her ear before letting his hand fall back to his side, fingers tingling from the slight contact. This small gesture finally brought Emma’s gaze to his face and he waited for her to speak.
A look of desperation and anxiety was etched on her face as she took a deep breath right before she started. “You said my family was in trouble, my parents. I don’t even have parents. I’m an orphan.” Emma said it with a finality that held little hope and Killian hated it.
“You have parents, my dear, and they do love you, and want you. They always wanted you, you just can’t remember.” He cleared his throat before continuing, leaning in to make eye contact as his good hand reached out to grasp hers. “Your role in this world, and theirs, has been so huge, so important that part of me wants to leave you in peace and let you and Henry be, but I can’t. They need you, Emma, I need you. Both of you.”
Emma’s eyes glazed over with unshed tears. No one had spoken to her with such passion, such conviction in her life. She believed him, but she didn’t want to. How could she have lived her life with such sadness and fear, all the while her family existed somewhere without her, needing her? It was almost worse, like she had failed them.
“Come on, love. Use your superpower,” he said with a smile, knowing he didn’t have to explain. Emma sucked in a breath of surprise at his reference and her heart swelled with a fearful hope. Hook could see it in the tears she stubbornly held back. Letting go of her hand, Killian pulled the purple vile out of his coat pocket and offered it to her once more. Her heart pounded in her chest and it was all she could hear in her ears as she took the small bottle from his fingers. She hesitated before uncorking it.
“Henry is staying at a friends this weekend, you know, in case this makes me keel over and you really are crazy,” she defiantly. Hook just chuckled.
“It won’t, love. But oh, what we could do with a weekend alone.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively and struck her with a seductive glance that garnered him another eye roll.
Popping the top off the bottle, Emma gave him one last look before raising it to her lips and tossing it back like a true sailor. Time seemed to slow down for Killian as he waited for her unfocused gaze to soften. After several beats of his racing heart, her stare sharpened as the purple glass fell from her fingers, the sound of it tinkling on the hard pavement mixed with a loud gasp escaping from Emma’s throat. Like she was finally breathing after a year of stifled whispers of breath, for she immediately choked on the stale city air and reached for Killian, inhaling desperately.
“Swan?! Are you okay, love?” She was bent at the waist in an attempt to fill her lungs, her fingers clutching onto the front of his jacket and Hook soothed her shoulders and back. Finally she looked up at him, and it nearly broke him.
The tears that before shone in her eyes now trickled down her reddened cheeks as she stared up at him in awe and confusion. Her fists held tighter to him as she straightened herself, her frantic expression softening as they stared at one another.
“Killian,” she whispered, but it wasn’t a question, she knew it was him. Her arms went around him immediately and she clung to him like she never had before. Killian didn’t hesitate to return the embrace. With her lips next to his ear she now spoke surely.
“You found me,” she breathed.
Killian didn’t know how to respond, still caught up in her, the way her hair smelled and the feel of her arms around him. It had never been like this for them, even before, but it felt so right that he just wanted to live in the moment forever.
“Emma,” he choked out, burying his face into the yellow curls that hung around her shoulders.
After several moments passed, Hook let up on his desperate hold, still touching her, but releasing her from his arms. His good hand reached up to wipe away the tear tracks from her cheeks. She just continued to watch him, her face still one of awe and gratitude.
“Are you alright, love?”
She coughed on a half-hearted laugh before answering, a deep sigh settling into her voice. “Yes. No. I don’t know,” she replied, frustration seeping into her tone.
Hook continued to sooth her, the both of them taking in each other and the situation, but fear suddenly enveloped Emma her eyes darting back and forth in panic. “Wait, what’s wrong?! What’s happened to David and Mary Margret?”
“They’re okay, but there is an imminent threat. We must get back to Storybrooke as soon as possible.”
They started walking in the direction of Emma’s apartment, Hook leading the way, but Emma paused suddenly.
“Wait, Storybrooke? I thought it was destroyed by Pan’s curse.” Her head was spinning with the rush memories.
Hook shook his head at the situation’s absurdity. It’s going to be a lot for Emma to take in. “Aye, it was, but we’ve found ourselves back there once more. I’ll explain everything on the way, I promise.”
That seemed to be enough for Emma, at least for the moment, for she took hold of his fingers and they rounded the next corner together.
***
When they got back to Emma’s apartment, she immediately began packing. Killian sat on the corner of her bed as she hastily began tossing clothes into a large duffle bag. They remained silent for the most part, Hook offering to help here and there, but Emma’s mind just raced darting from one thought to another without letting her stop to process everything she was feeling. She sometimes nattered on about traffic or the weather to fill the quiet room, but it was just an attempt to keep her holding it together.
“I should get some stuff together for Henry,” she said, briskly leaving the room and continuing as she walked across the hallway to her son’s room. “We’ll pick him up on the way out of the city. It’s only just – “
Hook heard the abrupt stall in her voice and rose from the bed, “Swan?” He called.
He found Emma stopped in the hallway, her hands bracing on a small wooden table that stood on the far wall of her flat. It held photographs of the two of them, each of their smiling faces and wild adventures. The one in the center looked most recent, and she stared at it through her watery vision. It was a close up of their faces, snow covered and pink from the cold. Emma’s green eyes stared right into Killian’s as he looked into the frame, however Henry’s were cast upwards towards Emma, his loving expression shared only with his mother.  Her shoulders we hunched over the picture, shaking with silent cries.
“Emma,” Killian whispered, rubbing her quivering shoulders. “It’s alright.”
A teary, mirth-filled laughter escaped her throat. “But that’s just it, it’s not alright.” Shaking her head, Emma looked up at him in fear as she gestured to the table of memories, some false and some real. “It’s not alright that I have to tell my son that I abandoned him. That I didn’t want him. That his whole life has been a lie!” Her fear quickly turned to anger as she hit him with a murderous glare.
“Where’s the potion for Henry?!” She screamed, punching Hook in the chest with weak-willed fists, tears overflowing onto her agonizing expression. Killian tried to halt her exhausting attack, but Emma was relentless in her frustration. Hook took each strike like a gentleman, and continued trying to comfort her.
“Where’s the potion that’ll explain to him about everything. I can’t, I can’t – it will break his heart,” she sobbed.
Killian tried to cage in her movements, to just get his arms around her. His own voice was rough and pained. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love. There was only enough for one, for you.”
This only spurred on her advances. “You selfish bastard!” Emma screamed, and Hook tripped during their struggle, bringing them down hard onto the hallway’s rough carpet. Emma was unhindered in her assault, and tried to strengthen her blows to his chest. Her teardrops fell freely onto his neck and chin as she trashed about.
“You just came here so I’d fall in love with you again! You’re haven’t changed, you’re just bloody pirate. You just want me all to yourself,” she spat. “You didn’t even think about Henry, did you?!”
Emma’s breath was coming in heavy pants, having exhausted herself both physically and emotionally. Her expression transformed once more from anger to pain as she looked down on him. Hook stared up at her as she sat atop him. In most circumstances Killian’s brain would be miles from her son while in this position, but he could see the devastation on Emma’s face as she struggled for breath, wet tracks streaming down her face. As her hands fell slack against his bruising chest, Killian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down in an embrace. Sobs stilled wracked her body, but she buried them in his neck, letting him rub comforting circles on her back.
“He’s going to – hate me,” Emma choked out against his skin.
Killian shook his head even though she wasn’t looking at him. “No, don’t you see, Emma, he’s going to love you more. He’ll have both of you. He’ll have what could have been, and what actually was. When Henry finally remembers he’ll know the you he fell in love with in Storybrooke, and the you that’s always been there for him. His best friend and his mother. It might be confusing for the young lad at first, but we’ll get him there. I promise.”
Emma breath had become soft, the work of both his words and his hands calming her.
“You think so?” She asked, and the hope infused in her voice brought lightness to Killian sore chest.
“Aye,” he finished, and they we quite for a few long moments, the sound of their soft breathing mingling with the sound of distant sirens. But Killian couldn’t stay silent. Emma had rekindled a hope of his own and he dared risk voicing it.
Clearing his throat first, Killian braced himself for another round of her fists. “Again?” He asked to the silent room, and Emma’s body went immediately stiff in his arms.
Slowly lifting herself to look at him, Emma met Killian’s hopeful blue eyes with her own, a gentle blush tinting her wet cheeks. They were connected from the waist down and their friendly embrace very suddenly became one of extreme physical tension. Her heart pounded as she looked upon his handsome face, his steal gaze searching hers for an answer. She couldn’t help herself.
Before Killian could even register what was happening Emma had a hold of him by his lapels and her lips were on his. It was a hard, brief kiss, from which Emma pulled away quickly but without letting go of him. There was a look of shock on her face, her eyebrows raised in surprise at her own actions but she made no move to change their position.
With steady, deliberate movements Killian sat up, his hand reaching up to once again wipe away the tear tracks from her face. She remained in his lap, and he took this as a good sign. His chest kept on swelling as he watched her lick her lips.
Finishing with her tears, Killian brought his thumb to the corner of her mouth briefly before resting it along her smooth jawline. “Again?”
It was unclear as to whether he was repeating his question from a few moments earlier or merely asking for another kiss, but it didn’t matter, for when Emma responded with a crooked smile and silent nod the spark within Killian was ignited.
He pulled her face to his and their lips connected in a frenzy. They were back to gasping for breath but this time it was mingled with throaty moans of desire. Their arms stayed locked around each other, Emma taking her time running them over his back and through his inky black hair, pulling slighting to direct the kiss.
Killian plunged his tongue into Emma’s mouth for the first time and they both groaned in appreciation, grinding together on the floor of her living room. The kiss escalated quickly into a hormone ridden make-out session, the pair so starved of each other that they couldn’t contain themselves. They’d held back while in Neverland, and then everything after seemed so rushed they’d never had the chance in Storybrooke, but the day’s emotions served as a catalyst to their relationship and they both longed to explore one another.
Emma, it seemed, no longer felt like hiding her desire for the leather clad pirate, for the way her mouth danced over his stubbled jaw and down his neck left little to the imagination.
Hook looked up from the lust-filled blur of her golden hair and caught a glimpse of the large clock that sat upon the mantel.
“Swan. Swan,” he whispered, trying to catch his breath.
“Hmmm,” was all she mumbled as her kisses continued south, skirting along his collarbone and the edges of his black vest.
“Love, you know I’d never stop you if it weren’t an emergency,” he groaned on the words as her tongue snuck out to taste his skin, “but if we don’t stop now, we won’t get back to Storybrooke in time.”
He caught her chin in his hand and brought her eyes up to meet his. She pouted in the cutest most alluring way Hook had ever seen and he was beginning to regret his decision to halt her kisses. But he knew what was most important, and their heated tryst could wait.
With a shake of her head to clear it, Emma heaved a great sigh as she climbed off him, offering him her hand to help stand up. Emma looked at him stubbornly, only half-joking when she said, “You really shouldn’t start something you can’t finish, you know.”
Killian’s response was anything but joking. “Oh, I can. And I will. But you of all people should know, Swan, I can be very, very patient.”
She rolled her eyes in true Emma Swan fashion and walked back into her bedroom muttering a half-hearted, “yeah, yeah, yeah.”
He laughed quietly at her defiance and looked back to her photos. The center one had fallen during their fight and slipped from its frame, as it lay alone now just to the right of his feet. Killian couldn’t help but reach down and lift it up, his thumb tracing over the image of Emma’s laughter lines in the photo. A weight settled in his chest, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, more reassuring. Like he was at risk of floating away had he not been tied down with this one photo, and a knowledge settled over him that he had never known before.
If Emma worried that hers and Henry’s old memories, real memories, would ruin the happiness they shared together in New York, it was Killian’s mission to make sure they had new ones. Memories like the one in this photograph, except maybe this time there would be room for one more in the frame. Without hesitation, Hook slid the now sacred image into the breast pocket of his long coat and followed Emma into the bedroom. With the memory of her kiss on his lips and the image of her smile over his heart, Killian was finally breathing, finally living, and he was taking her home.
blakekathryn
ellievsbear
stormborns
snowghoul
pixelskylines
dailybridgerton
