This is all I have to give - half a life and the will to live. I don’t know what I am running from. Maybe I’m just running to you.
Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here
Chapter 4 here
Chapter 5 here
Chapter 6 here
Chapter 7 here
Emma ascends the stairs two steps at a time, her thighs already burning with the effort. When she gets to the top, she's met with three different weapons aimed at her.
"Jesus, Emma, what the fuck." David breathes, lowering his gun in relief.
"It's chaos down there." Emma pants, doubling over and putting her hands on her knees.
Mary Margaret looks out into the street below through the clock on the tower. "We know."
Regina follows a group of humans with her eyes, all laughing heartily as they walk past a bleeding Angel. "And they don't even know it's happening."
"What are you doing here, I thought we agreed you should be far away." David asks with genuine concern in his voice.
"Making a plan is one thing," Emma tries to catch her breath before she continues. "Sticking to it is a whole other story."
"Tell me about it," Regina says from the window. "The British brothers are here."
Emma's head snaps up. "What?" she rushes to the window to see it with her own eyes. And true enough, Liam and Killian are there, tending to the injured in the street.
"He probably didn't think you'd be here too. But then again, why would he?" Regina cocks her head at Emma.
Emma forces herself to look away from the window and throws Regina an angry glare instead. "If you must know, I ran ahead to warn you. They're not going to be able to hold them off for long. Arthur is too determined to get here."
"We're the last line of defense, we'll do whatever it takes to stop him." David checks his gun, pulling the magazine out and slamming it back in.
Mary Margaret approaches him tentatively. "Honey, you're not going to- "
"Whatever it takes."
Mary Margaret looks offended as David walks toward the staircase, peering down, both hands on the gun.
Emma looks from David to Mary Margaret to Regina, then shakes her head, refusing to accept the fact that there is only one way this could end. Her thoughts drift back to her last moment with Killian, when he rejected the idea of arming himself, even for protection. "No, we're not doing that."
David turns his head away from the staircase to look at her. "We're not doing what?"
"We are not going to kill him. Or anyone."
David draws his brows together but keeps his gun trained on the landing. "I'm just being realistic. If he's fought all the way up here, there's very little else we could do to stop him from wiping this whole place from existence," He looks back to where his gun is pointed. "But hey, I'm open to other suggestions."
"We could talk to them." Emma answers simply.
That made him abandon his stance and drop his hands to his sides. "Are you serious?" he looks at her as if she just grew another head.
"You're thinking short-term David. Do you really think it'd be just him who storms up here - just Light Angels?" Emma patiently explains. It's so clear to her what needs to happen in order for them to have a better chance of coming out of this alive. So she can make it back to that damn Angel who's also stubbornly out in the street just below them.
"You can't plan to kill one person and expect the rest of them to just put their weapons down and surrender. If you plan to kill, you had better be ready to eliminate every single one of them and I know you don't have enough bullets for that. You don't even have one for a Dark Angel."
David doesn't scoff at her, which Emma thinks is a good sign.
"I don't have to kill all of them - just enough so they don't have the power to open the Gates. They need all twelve open at the same time and it takes seven Angels to open each one. One less will stop everything."
"Then what? Do you really think you can walk out of here alive?" Emma challenges.
"Maybe I won't but the rest of the world will."
Emma walks over to him, passing an already teary Mary Margaret. "But you're important too," she tells him. "You can't come into battle believing you're going to die." She cocks her head toward Mary Margaret. "You have to have something to fight for, to live for."
The sounds from below become louder with each passing second. David stares at Emma long and hard before he finally loosens the grip on his gun. "I've never heard you talk like that before."
Emma smiles at him. "See, words are more powerful than you think. And it will do more to actually stop this right here and now than just delaying it until they replace those they've lost."
Footsteps start to reverberate up the staircase like a roll of thunder coming closer and closer.
"You're sure about this?" he asks one last time.
Emma nods, not an ounce of doubt in her mind. "Yes."
David walks over to Mary Margaret and wraps his arms around her. There are tears running down her face but her wide grin is what Emma holds onto when she faces the new presence in the room.
Arthur holds his gun up and aims it squarely at Emma's chest. "Swan, right?" he asks the one immediately behind him who Emma instantly recognizes as Greg. "Yeah, I should have known who you were. Maybe Gold wouldn't be distracted now had he taken care of you earlier."
Emma lets him talk while she takes stock of his group. It's a proper mix of Light and Dark, but a stark imbalance in terms of body language. Most of them have an exhausted look in their eyes, as if just waiting for this whole ordeal to be over. Only Arthur and Greg still have that fierce determination evident on their faces.
She looks at Arthur when she says, "What do you want?"
He looks surprised at the question then laughs. "What do you think I want? Why do you think we're all standing here? To open the bloody Gates."
"Yes, but what for? What do you want?" Emma repeats.
A couple of his lackeys in the back look at each other like they're asking themselves that very question for the first time.
Arthur is seemingly unnerved by the specificity Emma prompts from him. He changes his hold on the gun and Emma feels David fidget behind her. "I want to go back. I'm sick of this place and I want to go back."
"Back to Heaven? Is that it? Back to where you lived the same life but without the threat of death looming over you?" Emma tries to understand his answer, tries to make him understand. "Is that what you want?"
He takes a step toward Emma but she doesn't flinch. "What is with the twenty questions? Just shut up and move."
"If you want me to move, there's an easy way to do that," she motions with her head to the gun in his hand.
"Emma." David warns her in a low voice.
She ignores him. "I think I know what you want."
"Oh you do now, do you?" Arthur narrows his eyes at her.
"You don't want to go back. You," she talks over him when he attempts to correct her. "Want to go home."
Arthur blinks, his mouth still half open from his aborted interruption. Greg glances nervously at him, like he can feel Arthur's resolve starting to waver at the mere mention of the word home.
"But see, there's a difference between Heaven and home. It might be a new concept to you Light Angels because it's not the reason you left in the first place. You, I'm guessing, came down out of a sense of duty. But we," she gestures to her friends behind her. "We chose this place because Heaven wasn't home for us. It didn't give us that feeling of comfort at the end of a particularly shitty day. It wasn't a place for us to curl up into a ball and feel properly sad. It didn't give us that sense of freedom, of having the liberty to do what you want to do without fear or shame."
Arthur still doesn't say anything so Emma continues.
"I understand you miss it, that there are probably people up there you would give anything to see again. But it only feels like a greater loss if you keep thinking you've lost everything. If you think you lost a beautiful place but ignore the majesty of Creation. If you think you lost your family and friends and refuse to make new ones with those living here. If you think you lost eternity but pay little attention to how death makes everything more exquisite, more stunning, simply because it's fleeting."
Arthur's hold on his gun falters. She almost misses the tremble in his fingers. Greg is the only other Angel with his weapon at the ready.
"This can be home too if you let it. It already is for many of us. And this, what you're planning to do, will take that away from us, and not by our choice but by yours."
Arthur keeps his eyes and his gun on her. Emma could already see the indecision on his face, in the way he shifts his feet. He tightens his hold on the gun like he's convincing himself to just pull the trigger. Emma holds her breath until Arthur finally, finally lowers his gun as though it's a heavy weight pulling his arm down.
"Holy shit." she hears Regina mumble from behind her, stealing her exact words from her mouth.
No one speaks for a full minute, mostly in disbelief at what just happened. Even Emma couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that her mostly suicidal plan worked.
Then as if on cue, the clock chimes on the hour, sending an ear-splitting toll across the room. Emma brings her hands to her ears and doesn't see Greg move until he slams right into her. She hears Mary Margaret scream her name before the sound of breaking glass, the feeling of falling coming soon after.
—-
Emma barely had time to spread her wings and avoid getting her skull crushed on the pavement. Greg unfurls his too and it messes with her flight, making it more dangerous to stay in the air. She wrestles to escape from his hold but he claws at her arms and neck, refusing to let go. Emma looks ahead at the narrow alley in the distance and she puts all her strength into twisting them around. She pushes at Greg's shoulders, putting as much space between them as she can. She retracts her arms in the last second before he crashes into a building’s fire exit, finally releasing his hold on her.
She doesn't have time or space to correct her landing and she hits the ground hard, rolling a few times until she stops on her back, every bone in her body aching. She painfully flips over to her belly and looks back to where Greg fell. She swears when she sees him emerge from behind the dumpster, bloody and limping but very much mobile. She scrambles to her feet and pulls out her gun, which miraculously did not fall off despite their violent altercation in the air.
But before she could pull the trigger, the tip of a blade comes out in the middle of Greg's chest, a red stain growing quickly around it. Emma's eyes widen as Greg chokes on his own blood, almost forgets how to breathe when he falls to the ground to reveal Gold, a sinister smile on his face. The long dagger in his hand has the handle of his cane, the rest of it in his other hand, a weapon on its own.
He vanishes and before she can even attempt to fly away, she feels a hard strike on the side of her head and falls back to the ground.
Emma blinks furiously in an attempt to keep her vision from swimming. She can feel a thin line of blood drip from her forehead and she's pretty sure she's bruised a couple of ribs from her fall. She moves slowly to her hands and knees, her world still tilting back and forth. She'd search for her gun that clattered out of her hand if her head would just stop spinning for two seconds.
"Emma Swan," a shadow looms over her. "The time for games is over, dearie."
She lifts her eyes to find a blur of silver zoom just above her head before a white hot pain steals what breath she has left in her lungs. She screams and reaches blindly behind her shoulder, burning her hand when she touches the hilt of the blade currently pinning her wings to the wall. She lets go immediately, the smell of burnt flesh and blood already present in the air.
Gold crouches before her, teeth bared. "It's time you and I finally have a chat." he spits the last word out with cutting derision.
Emma grunts in response. She fights to keep her eyes open - she will not give him the satisfaction of knocking her unconscious.
"You have denied me this moment for years, so I am going to take my time if you don't mind." he whispers, the tone of his voice sending a chill down her spine.
"Do your worst." she hisses, the taste of copper strong in her mouth.
"And to think that I almost gave up and sought to open the Gates instead," Gold laughs, shaking his head. "Life is funny like that, isn't it? You spend so much time looking for something but once you stop, that's when it shows itself, taunting you for all the effort you wasted."
Emma would roll her eyes but she chooses to channel her fading energy into shifting her body to relieve some of the pressure from her wings.
"But now that we're here, let's not lose sight of what brought us to this moment, together," Gold holds her chin up so they can look at each other and when Emma tries to jerk her head away, he grips her jaw forcefully. "You took Neal from me and there is no forgiveness for that."
"I didn't take him from you, you killed him." she struggles to say, barely able to open her mouth to speak.
"Because he was protecting you. That bullet was meant for you. He was never supposed to be down here, neither of us were," his face inches closer and closer that Emma can practically feel his words on her skin. "But he followed you. He followed you to this pitiful, miserable, pathetic place for what. For an ordinary life and a disgraceful death. He deserved more. He deserved better."
She can feel his fingers digging in, clutching her hard enough to bruise. Her addled brain unhelpfully reminds her whose touch is the exact opposite of this harsh and merciless hold.
"Emma!"
Emma's heart hammers loudly in her chest at Killian's voice, unsure if she's imagined it. Her eyes flick over to where another Emma! reverberates. Gold turns his head in the same direction then faces her again, narrowing his eyes. Then he disappears right in front of her.
She sees Killian run past then double back, skidding into the alley. He almost stumbles in his hurry to get to her, sprinting from the other end of the street.
"He's here!" Emma yells desperately, warning Killian of the invisible danger.
He doesn't slow down, Emma's not sure he even heard what she said. He drops to his knees on the cold ground and immediately puts his hand on Emma's neck just below her jaw.
The relief is instant. Her pain diminishes to a dull ache and the terror that was smothering her is leaving her body in waves. She gives in to the sensation, leaning her cheek against his palm and putting her hand over his. She catches her breath and closes her eyes, reveling in the soothing heat radiating from his fingers.
Then she snaps back to reality, the harsh brightness of the lamp at the corner of the street burning her eyes when she opens them in haste. She squints, moving her head to look at Killian's hazy form.
"It's alright, love."
"He's here." Emma tries again. She tightens her hold on Killian's hand and tugs, attempting to pry his fingers from her face.
He doesn't let her, just keeps his hold and even brushes his thumb softly over her cheeks.
She sees him grip the blade handle with his other hand and Emma braces herself for the pain that's about to come. Only it never did, not even when Killian starts to jostle the knife to get her free.
"He's here." Emma repeats a third time because it's clear he's not listening to her.
"I know, that’s why I asked your friends to stay back," he stops what he’s doing to look her in the eye. "He can't hurt me. And I'm not going to let him hurt you."
"What's that now?" Gold reappears a few feet from them, making Killian whip around.
Killian turns to face him and stands in front of Emma. "You're not going to hurt her."
"No, the other part. About me," Gold puts his hands on his chest. "Not being able to hurt you." he points a finger at Killian.
"Your weapons won't work on me." Killian says, hands curling into fists.
"Oh I don't need weapons to make you hurt, dearie," Gold taunts. He holds up his right hand. "This will be enough, I assure you."
Emma struggles to keep herself upright, the pain coming back in a rush. If her wings weren't pinned to the wall, she would have slid to the floor already.
"You know what the most difficult thing was in starting this uprising?" Gold asks out loud, balling his raised hand into a fist. "Getting the people to understand what it's for and why we're doing it. Some of them just want a battle, a reason to inflict violence, an excuse to draw the blood of their fellow Angels. Most just want to go back, those who regretted ever coming down here regardless of why they did it in the first place."
Killian takes a step back closer to her, not taking his eyes off Gold.
"But very few comprehend the real purpose of this insurgence: we have forgotten. We have forgotten our true place in this universe. We have spent too much time with these humans that we have started to believe we are one of them but we are not,"
"We are Angels. We are not equal with these creatures, we never were. We are superior beings forced to stoop to the level of mortals. And it is the most insulting thing to even walk the same ground they tread on."
Emma can hear the hate in Gold's voice, the absolute loathing in every word. It makes her shiver.
Gold starts to stalk toward them. "No one else shares my sentiments, not exactly. No other Angel truly understands. But you," he locks eyes with Killian. "You are probably the only one left who can.”
Then Gold vanishes mid-stride.
Emma's stomach drops at the realization of what's about to happen. "Killian."
Killian steps closer to Emma still, keeping his eyes alert.
"Killian, you need to go." Emma pleads, pushing at Killian's legs.
"I am not leaving you here." he scans the area one more time before he turns quickly and moves for the blade stubbornly stuck in the wall.
His fingers barely touch the hilt, having been tackled to the ground hard. He slides a few feet on the wet pavement, ending up on his back and looking winded. No one else is in the alley - not that Emma can see anyway.
She scrambles to her feet and is painfully reminded she can't move when she gets pulled back down to her butt. She twists around, grips the knife handle and pulls, ignoring the agonizing burn on her hand.
She turns her head to see Gold reappear, planting a firm knee on Killian's chest and raising his right hand. Killian struggles to get up from under the pressure pushing him into the ground. He looks lightheaded, blinking furiously at the Angel holding him down.
"Killian!" Emma wraps her other hand around the hilt and tugs, the blade slowly detaching from its crevice.
She whips around again and watches helplessly as Gold wraps his fingers around Killian's throat. Killian's back arches against the weight as he takes a lungful of breath, his eyes squeezing shut. He opens his mouth in a silent scream, his left hand clutching Gold's forearm and the other pushing uselessly against his chest. Gold bears down on him, forcing his back flat on the ground. He presses his other palm against Killian's cheek and pushes his face against the floor.
"Can you feel it?" Gold says through gritted teeth.
Emma hears Killian finally cry out and she heaves at the knife with everything she has left. It comes loose without warning, making Emma fall backward on her elbows. She lets the blade clatter away and clambers to her feet unsteadily. She wills her exhausted legs to run then collides with Gold, toppling him off of Killian.
She uses her hands to break her fall, only narrowly avoiding hitting her chin on the pavement. She quickly flips on her back and finds Killian, who is trembling violently and struggling to push himself up from the cold floor. She sits up with tremendous effort, every part of her body screaming in pain. She finds Gold marching over to her in wide strides, having picked up something from the ground further away. The dagger glints in his hand as he approaches her menacingly.
Emma tries to inch backward but Gold is fast despite his limp and is on top of her in seconds.
"This ends tonight Miss Swan."
Emma closes her eyes and waits for the blade to sink in her chest.
The sound of a gunshot confuses her and she opens her eyes in time to see the look of utter shock on Gold's face before he crumples to the ground. Emma props herself on her elbows and sees Killian sitting up, looking dangerously close to collapsing himself. He’s still holding her gun with a shaking hand, aiming it at the space above her.
She pushes Gold's unconscious body off of her and staggers toward Killian. She drops heavily on her knees in front of him. There’s smoke coming from where his skin meets the metal of the gun, the blackness of which is a stark contrast to his knuckles having turned white from how tightly he's grasping the weapon. Emma holds the barrel of the gun and pushes it down, using her other hand to pry his fingers from the grip. He is staring vacantly at the blood slowly pooling around Gold.
She drops the gun to the floor as soon as he lets go, her hands going up to cup his face. She doesn't feel different at all. She moves his head to make him look at her, his unfocused eyes barely able to keep eye contact.
"Let me in," she tells him. "Let me help you."
Killian shakes his head once that it looks like an involuntary jerk.
"Killian, please, let me in." she brings their foreheads together.
He holds his ground for a few more seconds before his shoulders drop and he releases the breath he's been holding. Emma inhales sharply as she gets hit by a swell of intense hate, an overwhelming urge to march back into the clocktower and open the Gate herself. She tightens her hold on Killian to keep herself from walking off and doing just that.
Emma kisses Killian then, tries to remember what it feels like when he smiles at her, the kind that reaches his blue, blue eyes. What it feels like when he wraps her in his arms, enveloping her in his warmth. What it feels like when he listens to her talk, like she's the most interesting person in the world. What it feels like when he looks at her with such deep affection that her heart just about bursts in her chest.
The ugly feeling of animosity fades into the recesses of her mind when Killian kisses her back desperately. He tugs at her, pulling her close. He opens his mouth and Emma is all too willing to glide her tongue against his. She wraps her arms around his neck, eliminating whatever space remained between them. He keeps a hand at the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades. He runs his tongue along her bottom lip, and tugs on it softly with his teeth.
She's breathless when they part, barely an inch between their lips. He brushes the tip of his nose against her cheek then her ear, before burying his face at the crook of her neck. She sits back on her heels, holding his head where it is. They cling to each other like that for a while, his breath ghosting over her collarbone.
The hate that almost suffocated her minutes ago lingers feebly in her chest along with the agony in her wings, the pain above her eye, and the ache in the rest of her body. She feels the burn in her hand where it's resting on the back of Killian's neck. They all melt away into a muted buzzing, drowned by the sound of his deep breathing and the electric thrum of his touch.
"Thank you." he whispers in a weak voice.
She shakes her head and runs a hand down his arm to lace their fingers together. She lets him know how much she's grateful for him for saving her life - and she doesn't just mean tonight. All this time she's been getting by with her will to live. Killian gave her a reason to live.
She may be sitting in the middle of a dank alleyway battered and bruised, but she feels whole, she feels complete.
—-
The sun sits proudly on its perch in a clear sky, the only spot of contrast in a vast sea of blue. Emma tilts her face toward it and closes her eyes, enjoying the way the rays feel on her cheeks. A slight breeze blows past, sweeping some of her hair in her face but she makes no move to tuck it back behind her ears.
"…And I thought, I should knock his teeth out." Henry continues his story, a little rage behind his voice.
"Did you?" Killian asks from his seat on the park bench beside her.
"Punch him? No. But I really, really wanted to." Henry draws the second really out.
They both decided not to tell Henry about the almost-rapture, instead using the clinic as an excuse for not visiting for almost a month. The only remnant of their secret battle being Killian's wrist, now in a cast at Liam's insistence. Emma found it hilarious that the first injury he had is also the last to heal - and he didn't even get it the night Emma earned all of hers.
Henry narrowed his eyes at him when Killian explained he had hurt it by breaking a fall. It's almost too ridiculous, relative to everything that's happened since then, that it's the truth.
"Hmm. You should have."
Emma opens her eyes at that to cast Killian a disapproving look.
"Anyone who hurts a defenseless little animal deserves a sock on the mouth. Or two." Killian does not even attempt to backpedal on what he said.
"You did the right thing Henry, hitting him wouldn't have solved anything." Emma quickly interjects.
"Yeah but that's not the end of the story," Henry raises his hands over his head. "Granny comes out with her broom and starts whacking him on the head with it until he runs away." he swings his arms in the air to show them just how the older woman chased the cruel teenager away.
"See, Granny gets it." Killian has a smug smile on his face.
"I thought you didn't tolerate any kind of violence against other people." Emma raises an eyebrow at him.
"Puppy kickers are an exception to that rule," he answers, putting a finger up. Then he brings that finger down to point at the furiously wagging tail by Henry's shoes. "I think he's getting restless."
Emma and Henry turn to look at the dog staring up at them with big brown eyes. He jumps and barks once, scampers a few feet, then turns back to look at them expectantly.
Henry tilts his head at Emma and Killian sitting on the bench. "And you already struggle to keep up with me." Then he takes off after his recently acquired pet.
Emma hangs her head and apologizes in advance to her already complaining legs.
Killian gets to his feet and offers her a hand. "Come on, love. Before we lose them in this massive place."
She looks at his hand and takes it reluctantly, letting him pull her up. He brings her close to his side and wraps his arm around her. She drags hers across his back to the other side and hooks her finger in one of his belt loops. They walk together in each other's embrace after Henry and his dog.
Emma touches his hand, the one draped over her shoulders. She feels Killian's head shift to look at her but she just leans into him, squeezing herself closer.
She thinks about how she's right where she needs to be, how she wouldn't want to be anywhere else. When Killian gives her a soft kiss on the forehead, she lets him feel the genuine happiness that has been quietly settling in her skin, deep in her bones. When she feels him smile against her hair, she lets him know that he's responsible for that feeling.
She tells him how much she loves him. She tells him without saying a word.
This is all I have to give - half a life and the will to live. I don’t know what I am running from. Maybe I’m just running to you.
Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here
Chapter 4 here
Chapter 5 here
Chapter 6 here
Emma rounds a corner sharply, the tips of her wings brushing against the brick wall as she starts to descend. Killian's apartment building is already coming into view and she does some quick math in her head to work out which window is his.
She had every intention to slide open said window and climb in carefully but she abandons that plan when she catches sight of Gold through the glass, standing in the middle of Killian's living room. She finds Killian a second later, a good few feet away from Gold. She crosses her arms over her face and lifts her legs to her chest as she comes closer. She kicks hard, bursting through the window and rolling on the floor, crunching some pieces of glass when she does.
"Bloody hell." Killian swears, backing away from the flying debris from Emma's graceful entrance. His tone changes completely when he realizes who just flew though his window. "What are you doing here?" he hisses urgently.
She refuses to look at him and instead scrambles to her feet to face Gold, standing between him and Killian. "Your fight is with me." Emma says, trying to hide just how out of breath she is.
"Emma." Killian calls her name from behind her. She feels his hand on her arm, pulling gently.
She takes two steps forward, away from his reach. "Stay out of this. Please."
"I should have known a boy will make you slither out of your hiding place," Gold says through a clenched jaw. Emma's sure the hand behind his back is curled into a fist with the other gripping his cane so tight his knuckles are white. "He meant that little to you did he? That you replaced him so easily."
I did not replace him came out as "He's not a replacement," she swallows thickly. "He has nothing to do with this, you will leave him alone."
She hears Killian whisper her name again. She pretends she doesn't hear him, choosing to run down scenarios in her head and formulate an exit plan - for both of them.
"No, dearie," Gold's lips turn up into a sinister smile. "It's you who will be leaving him alone."
Then things happen very fast. His words are only starting to sink in when an arm wraps around her waist and pulls her back. She sees Gold's arm move from behind his back, a glint of silver catching light from the low sun outside. Her shoulders hit the wall hard, a warm hand holding her upper arm to steady her. The other slams against the space just beside her right ear. Emma suddenly thinks that at this rate, that wrist will never heal the way it's supposed to.
Killian's momentum almost makes him barrel right into her but he manages to brace himself just before he does. Emma loses her breath from crashing against the wall, not from the blue eyes she's been craving to stare into since she left them crestfallen in a dark supply closet.
Gunshots echo in the air loudly but she doesn't blink. It's followed by a clatter of metal falling to the floor.
"His bullets won't work on me." Killian explains softly, like she's forgotten how Angel weapons operate.
"A Light Angel playing hero, how very typical." Gold lowers his gun as he strides toward them.
Killian spins around, this time being the one standing between Emma and Gold. The words Killian, don't be stupid barely leave her mouth when three sets of feet land on the broken glass, one after the other.
David fires once on the floor, inches away from Gold's leather shoes. Then he aims his gun on Gold's forehead. "The next one will make you hurt if you don't back the fuck away, I promise you."
Mary Margaret holds her crossbow steady, already fixed on Gold. Regina changes her grip on her dagger then raises her arm in front of her chest.
"And the bodyguards arrive just in time to save the day," Gold looks at them long and hard, seemingly calculating his odds of facing off against three winged and armed Angels. Then he relaxes his stance and faces Emma, making Killian move in front of her. "We'll see each other again, Miss Swan."
In the next second he vanishes but her friends keep their weapons trained in midair. The sound of glass crunching behind them makes them turn around quickly. A piece of the window that's still dangling from the corner swings wildly before crashing to the floor as well.
Regina sticks her head out the shattered window and looks out to the street below. "He still only has the one ability, right? So he can only do the invisible thing - he didn't suddenly have the power to teleport?" she asks out loud, then raises her head to look up to the sky. She ducks back inside when she sees no sign of Gold.
"I could have really used my super speed just then." David mumbles to no one in particular.
"You lot get to keep your wings, we get to keep our abilities." Killian snaps irritably, crossing his arms over his chest. He's moved away from Emma and is trying his damnedest to not look at her.
"Killian- " Emma starts.
"He was going to kill you. Whatever's gone down between us, I wasn't just going to let it happen." he stares at the glass on the floor when he says that.
Emma's vaguely aware of Mary Margaret shuffling the rest of her friends to the next room. A tense hush falls on them, the sound of the street outside being the only reminder that no, she has not gone deaf.
Their uncanny ability to break such a silence at the same time presents itself again.
"You shouldn't have come here."
"I'm sorry."
His eyes snap up to meet hers and her heart breaks all over again at the glimmer of hope she sees in them.
She takes a step toward him, one that he matches by taking one back and away. She takes another and so does he as he uncrosses his arms, keeping the same space between them. She comes closer and closer still, until he backs right into the table at the edge of the room. She takes the momentary distraction where he steadies the desk lamp that threatens to topple over to finally cover the distance in one wide stride.
She reaches up to touch his face but he catches her in time, the splint around his wrist digging into Emma's arm.
"Don't."
"You keep saying that but is that what you really want?" she whispers, challenging him to say out loud what's abundantly clear in his fiery eyes.
He gazes at her, the look so intense that she's half-expecting them both to burst into flames any second. "Is this what you want?"
And really, she should know by now how incredibly masterful he is at keeping his own feelings to himself while making others realize their own. She swallows thickly, her hand still hovering in midair between them, his fingers wrapped tightly around her forearm. She hesitates for too long, struggles too much with saying that one simple word that he breaks eye contact and starts to pull her arm down.
Emma lurches closer, stands right in Killian's personal space, barely a sliver of sunlight between them. The new angle makes it difficult for him to move his arm any further but he doesn't let go, just holds on to her like he's afraid she's going to disappear. He moves his head back on instinct, his startled breath ghosting over her forehead, blowing some of the stray hair away from her face.
"I'm not good with words," she starts, reaching for his face again. "But I want you to know what I really want, how I really feel."
He doesn't stop her this time and lets her put her hand on his cheek. He just stares at her, the anger and hurt still dancing around in his eyes.
Emma brings her other arm up and cradles Killian's face in both of her hands. She rubs her thumbs over his cheekbones, like she's wiping away tears she's never seen fall. "Please."
It hits him hard. He grabs on to the table behind him with both hands, rocking it again with the suddenness of his hold. This time the desk lamp falls to the floor but no one minds the crashing sound it makes when it hits the ground. He rests his forehead against hers and takes a deep breath.
She closes her eyes and tries to tell him wordlessly how sorry she is that she hurt him, how stupid it was of her to even think that was the only solution to her problem. She tries to tell him how thankful she is that he's in her life, and how she's sure now that she wants to keep it that way. She tries to tell him that he's the best thing that has happened to her in either Heaven or Earth.
Emma thinks Killian got all of that because he suddenly kisses her, intense and passionate. He pulls her closer still, his arms wrapping around her like he has no plans of letting her go again. She keeps her hands on his face and shifts his head a little to deepen the kiss. She loses her breath when she realizes how much she missed the feel of his lips against hers, of his tongue sliding into her mouth. She got very close to never feeling this again and she almost cries at just the thought of how hollow that would leave her.
She reluctantly pulls away because she needs to say it, to let the words she's been so afraid to say, pass through her lips.
Killian puts his head down, avoiding her gaze. "I know." he suddenly says, voice low.
For a split-second Emma thinks she might have already said it out loud but is pretty sure she hasn't because she has yet to find her voice in the swell of emotions currently filling her chest.
"And I know you know…I do too." Killian puts his hands on her wrists and rubs circles over her knuckles.
The thing is, she does. It dawns on her know how she's known for a while. With every look that he gives her when he thinks she doesn't notice, every time he smiles the secret smile he's reserved for her. With every step he takes for her when he walks her home, every time his eyes light up when he sees her. With every laugh he lets out when she says something unfunny, every time he says her name just because he wants to.
She finally sees how he doesn't need to touch her to let her know how he feels. That there are so many other ways to do just that, so many little things that go unnoticed but once realized, has the most impact.
Emma finds her voice but doesn't say anything. She simply lifts his head so their eyes can meet, and smiles.
—-
They each take a seat in Killian's kitchen after having decided that staying put and coming up with a plan is the most reasonable next step. Killian's voice is the only sound in the room - well, his and Liam's tinny voice through the phone, every word audible from where Emma is seated (What the fuck, Killian).
Killian started the phone call sitting properly in the chair but have been steadily inching to the edge with every rise in volume of his brother's voice on the other end. Emma's heard him say I'm fine at least five times, which only seems to agitate Liam more every time Killian repeats it. He finally rises from his seat when Liam unquestionably yells in his ear, Killian having to actually pull the phone away with a displeased face.
"Liam- " Killian tries. Seriously Killian, what the fuck, Emma hears.
"Liam- " a second time. I cannot believe you-
"Liam- " Killian hisses into his phone, marching out of the kitchen, well away from everyone else's earshot.
"His brother doesn't sound too worried by all this, I think." Regina's tone drips with sarcasm.
Emma fails to hide the smirk at that comment.
"So listen," David starts, stretching his hand across the table to get Emma's attention. "I…was wrong for suggesting you break things off with him. I hadn't realized you were…" he pauses and looks away. "I didn't know."
"David, I don't think anyone in this room knew until an hour ago." Mary Margaret rests her chin on her wrist and waggles her eyebrows at Emma.
"Come on guys, give her a break. The lump of coal in her chest needed time to get things up and running again." Regina comes to her defense in the only way she knows how.
Emma spreads her arms on the table. "Really? I mean, really?"
Killian walks back in at that moment, making all four of them shut up and look at him expectantly.
"Liam is…on his way," he looks apologetic, rubbing the back of his neck. "I told him he didn't have to, that I was fine, but he insisted."
"Well, I can't wait. I bet the first thing he says when he walks through the door is 'Where is he? I'm going to kill that son of a bitch.'"
Emma widens her eyes at Regina but immediately turns her head at the sound of Killian's laugh.
"I don't think he'd be that crass. Maybe something like, 'What have you gotten yourself into?'" Mary Margaret suggests.
"No, he's not going to tell his brother off right away. He'd start with, 'When I get my hands on him, he's a dead man.' And then get to the big brother scolding." David crosses his arms over his chest, pleased with his prediction.
Emma's disbelief at her friends' blatant mocking of Liam is mostly overcome by Killian's reaction to it.
"That," he points at David. "I'd put my money on that."
—-
"When I get my hands on the bastard…" Liam seethes, kicking at the pieces of glass scattered on Killian's living room floor.
"What?" David asks. "He's going to be what?"
Mary Margaret elbows him in the gut and Emma sees Killian bite his lips to keep from smiling.
"He's a Light Angel, not much you can do to him." Regina casually comments, prompting a glare from Liam and a Not helping from Emma.
"Tell me again." Liam rubs his temples, as if holding off the beginning of a migraine.
Emma sighs and prepares to explain the situation for a third time. She tells everyone about how she and her friends have been on the run from Gold for years. That they move around from place to place whenever they feel he's closing in on them. That they've only been able to stay put for this long this time because they very nearly killed him the last time they crossed paths (Why didn't you then? Liam had said irritably the first time she mentioned it. Killian did not approve.) That she even let herself believe that maybe he's given up, that she wasn't worth all the trouble.
But revenge is a powerful motivator that can't be stifled by a mere near-death experience.
"And now he's abandoned the whole opening-the-Gates plan just to kill you?" there's still a hint of disbelief in Liam's tone, even after all the times they've tried to convince him that one man's goal in life can in fact be that single-minded.
"Or he might just be putting it off to prioritize…" David trails off when Emma gives him a withering look. "…something else." he finishes.
"Honestly, it doesn't matter," Liam waves his hand around, dismissing other answers to his question. "Arthur is still dead set on going back and he's not going to delay that for someone else's personal vendetta."
"But Gold is more urgent, he will come back and he will be more prepared." Killian reasons, the worry already seeping into his voice.
Liam glances at his brother and pinches the bridge of his nose when Killian narrows his eyes at him. "Merlin said they might already be getting ready to storm the Gates."
"What?" several different voices utter in unison.
"Actually, I heard the same thing," Regina says cautiously, a guilty look on her face. "They're doing it soon."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Mary Margaret gives her a disappointed look.
"I'm sorry, I thought there were other more important news to deliver." Regina gestures openly at Killian, who looks taken aback at the suggestion that he's the more critical piece of information.
"And I thought you were already dealing with your own end-of-the-world issues to have to learn that the world is, quite literally, about to end." Liam tells his brother before he's even asked, jerking his head in Emma's direction.
Emma would laugh at how Killian bristles at that if she didn't feel so small all of a sudden with the gravity of what's about to happen.
"Okay," David stops whatever smartass reply was going to come from someone in the group with an authoritative voice. "So we need to take Emma somewhere safe, stop Gold from killing her and possibly eliminate any other chance he might have at doing that, get reinforcements, get to the Gates before Arthur and his followers blow everything to shit, and save humankind. Right?"
"Oh is that all?" Regina puts her hands on her hips.
"Not necessarily in that order, right?"
"Liam," Killian says, exasperated. "We're doing all of it. All of us."
Liam gets serious. "Then we need a plan. That's too many things to do in very little time."
"You stay in the clinic," David tells Liam. "You're going to be needed there. Warn as many people as you can, we'd need all the help we can get. There's got to be more of us out there wanting to put a stop to this thing."
"Alright. You're coming with me." Liam motions at Killian.
"No, I'm not." Killian shakes his head, not moving from where he's standing.
Liam clenches his jaw. "What, why not?"
"I'm Light, he can't hurt me. I can protect her from him."
Liam approaches his brother as if coming closer would change his mind. "But that's about all you can do. You can't hurt him either, especially not with that." he points at Killian's banged up wrist.
"And it doesn't make sense for you two to stay together." David adds, not exactly supporting Liam's argument but not approving of Killian's plan either.
Now it's Emma's turn to ask, "What, why not?"
David looks at her incredulously. "Have you not been paying attention? Gold knows about you. He knows who Killian is to you and believe me, he's going to use that against you. You don't have to make it easier for him to do just that."
Emma and Killian look at each other, seeing David's point.
"Then it's settled, you're with me." Liam claps his brother on the shoulder.
"But we need to get Emma some place safe." Killian insists.
"About that," Emma chimes in. "That's exactly what he wants - to catch me isolated and hidden from other Angels. Maybe the best place for me is out there with everyone else, with people who can help if I need it."
No one objects to Emma's suggestion.
"And none of you are coming with me," Emma adds quickly. "For the same reason he can't." she jerks her thumb toward Killian.
"Fine, then take this," David puts his gun in Emma's hand and looks her in the eye. "He's taken too much from all of us. We end it, we end it today."
Emma feels the weight of the gun in her palm, the coolness of the metal bleeding into her skin. She nods firmly once before David lets go.
"The rest of us will go the closest Gate, keep that damn thing locked down."
They all look at each other one more time, waiting for anyone else to voice out any kind of violent reaction against what they are all planning to do. When no one does, they all go their separate ways to take their place in the inevitable war.
—-
Emma travels to the clinic with the brothers despite the expected objection from the rest of the group - she doesn't want to leave his side until she absolutely has to. The short drive is quiet with Emma sitting in the back of Liam's jeep, choosing to distract herself by staring at Killian's profile. When they arrive and walk through the doors, Liam throws them a knowing glance over his shoulder and stalks away. Killian leads them to the back room, where they've spent the last five minutes in even more silence.
She leans heavily against the door, the weight of the world seemingly resting on her shoulders. She reckons everyone else is feeling the same way, a dark cloud of foreboding casting its shadow over them. She watches Killian push off the table across the room and walk the short distance between them, stopping right in front of her, an arm's length away. She sees his left wrist is without its splint and is still swollen. She wonders how much it hurts.
"You'll keep safe, won't you?" he says quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.
"You know I will," Emma replies, her fingers drumming a random pattern against the wooden door. "I'm more worried about you. You'll know when enough is enough, right?"
Killian chuckles low and looks at her restless fingers tapping wildly behind her. He takes each hand in his own and raises them, spreading them open so their palms are touching. He laces their fingers together and rests his forehead on hers. He waits until Emma nods.
She feels the tension in her shoulders ease, the anxiety in her body all pooling to her hands where it leaves through her fingertips. She feels a calmness envelop her, like a pair of strong arms surrounding her in a warm embrace. She smiles at the feeling, at the powerful sense of security, that there's someone there to protect her, that she's not alone.
She brings one of their linked hands close to her chest, the other to touch against her lips. She looks at his face, memorizes the shape of his nose, the dip of his dimple, the faint scar on his cheek, the striking color of his eyes. She moves their hands down just underneath her chin. "Why do I feel like I'm sending you off to war?"
Killian laughs softly again, squeezing her hands a little harder. "Because that's exactly what's happening. I feel like I'm letting you go into battle myself."
They stand like that for a while, just breathing in each other's space. Emma doesn't want to let go, knowing that as soon as she does, reality will descend upon them, reminding them of just how the world as they know it is teetering on the brink of extinction.
She's still the first to move, unlacing their fingers carefully. "I'm going out there knowing I can protect myself." she pries herself from Killian's intense gaze and walks toward the desk he was just leaning against.
He follows her without question but immediately frowns when she pulls the drawer open.
"I'd feel a lot better knowing you can do the same." she wills him to take the gun sitting there, the silver glinting from this angle.
Killian casts her a reproachful glance. "Where did you even get this?"
"I asked one of your people to leave it here," she blows past the explanation. "Please, you need this. It's gotten a lot more dangerous out there. Especially for you."
He shakes his head forcefully. "It's not going to work on him, you know that."
"I wouldn't put it past him to send someone after you who can hurt you and this will work on them." Emma reasons, reaching for his hand to take the gun.
He moves his hand out of reach and backs away. "Emma. You have your own way of dealing with things and I respect that. I am asking you to give me the same courtesy."
She locks eyes with him, his fierce will manifesting in the way he's staring back. She tightens her hold on the drawer knob but eventually lets her hand drop to her side. She takes a deep, shaky breath and ducks her head. She blinks away the tears that have started to well in her eyes.
"Don't blame me if you do end up staring down the barrel of a gun. I tried to warn you." she says angrily to the floor.
Killian closes the drawer slowly, gun untouched inside. He puts his hands on her shoulders then wraps them around her, giving her a tight embrace, a real one this time.
Emma doesn't know where it comes from, she doesn't even notice it until it the painful knot that formed in her chest escapes her throat in the form of a sob. She clings to Killian's jacket with both hands and cries against him, his shirt soaking up the tears that fall from her eyes.
The fear threatens to choke her, to leave her gasping for air, but it doesn't recede. It just sits heavily in her lungs, taking up half the room, making it difficult to breathe. She focuses on Killian's hands rubbing circles in her back, on the steady beating of his heart right up against her ear. She clamps down on the terror on her own, pushes back against it through sheer force of will.
Her breathing slows down, allowing her to catch her breath. "Please don't die." Please don't leave me.
Killian tightens his hold on her. "No one's dying, love."
She loosens her death grip on his coat and puts her hands on his shirt. She runs them over his chest and around his back, hugging him underneath the jacket. She tells herself to believe in his words, even though she's heard him say them before, and they weren't always true.
This is all I have to give - half a life and the will to live. I don’t know what I am running from. Maybe I’m just running to you.
Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here
Chapter 4 here
Chapter 5 here
"Okay, hey, you gotta calm down." Emma keeps her voice low despite the loud, angry yelling from the man in front of her.
He was brought in by a woman five minutes ago, bleeding from his shoulder from a gunshot wound. He was already complaining then about how they didn't need to be there, how he can patch himself up on his own. She was halfway through convincing him to stay when Robin walks up to them and offers his assistance. That's when the guy shot up from his chair and started shouting, refusing any kind of help from these people.
The woman he's with also tries to reason with him but he's adamant on leaving. He holds onto his injured shoulder and stalks toward the exit, bumping into Emma hard on the way that she stumbles a few steps back.
"Damn it Greg, why do you have to be so stubborn?" the woman raises her voice now too, marching after him.
"What's going on here?" Liam makes his way over to them, Killian following close behind.
"Look at this place! Look at all the winged Angels coming in and out of those doors, the Dark ones walking around, helping. I will not be indebted to anyone in this goddamn place." he swings his bloody hand in a wide arc, making a mess on the floor.
"They are here because they want to be." Liam clarifies, backing away to avoid the splatter. "We don't discriminate here, anyone and everyone is welcome."
"Oh how very thoughtful of you, doing all of this from the goodness of your hearts," the man replies sarcastically, only a few paces away from the exit. He spins around to add, "But don't think that changes anything between us, in spite of what this traitor may have led you to believe." he jerks his head in Emma's direction then resumes his walk through the doors.
Killian very visibly scowls and follows him outside, moving toward the guy in wide strides. He puts his hand on the man's uninjured shoulder to make him turn back around.
Even Emma didn't see the punch coming, the guy's bloody fist connecting with Killian's jaw when he pivots, the momentum knocking Killian to the floor.
"Don't fucking touch me." the man seethes, standing over Killian.
The words have barely left the guy's lips when Emma pushes him face-first against the wall and twists his bad arm behind his back.
"Jesus, lady!" he yells, his words muffled by the fact that half his face is pressed up against the brick surface.
"Swan." Liam calls her name but makes no effort to stop what she's doing.
"We are trying to help you here," Emma hisses, pulling another groan from him when she twists harder. "But we don't have to put up with your bigotry."
She releases his hold on him and steps back, pinning him in place with a wrathful glare.
"Come on, let's just go." the woman drags him away.
He keeps his eyes on Emma as they leave, like he's memorizing her face. Then the woman shoves him in a car and peels off.
Emma turns around to find Killian still sitting on the floor, Liam crouched down beside him. His lip is torn and he has blood on his face, most of which isn't his.
"Are you okay?" she asks, bending down herself.
"He really doesn't like us." he says in reply, his forehead creased as if he's still fighting the surge of emotions that undoubtedly hit him when the punch did.
"He's a self-righteous asshole." she keeps herself from touching him, not wanting to confuse him with more foreign feelings.
"Get yourself cleaned up little brother." Liam claps Killian's back before making his way into the clinic.
Killian hangs his head, still disgruntled by the nickname judging by his heavy sigh. But he picks himself up and dusts his clothes off anyway.
"I was supposed to defend your honor, not the other way around." he tries to smile when he says that and instead ends up wincing at his split lip. He wipes some of the blood off his jaw with his bare knuckles.
"You know what they say," Emma pulls his arm down by the elbow to keep him from scrubbing at his cut. "It's the thought that counts."
Killian looks at her like he's about to kiss her, split lip be damned but his eyes snap up to the street behind her at the sound of a car screeching from around the corner.
She faces the same direction and immediately takes the few steps to the curb at the familiar sight of David's truck skidding to a halt right in front of them.
"Emma!" Mary Margaret throws the backseat door open before the tires even squeal to a stop.
"What happened?" Emma pulls the car door as far as it would open and pales when she sees David crumpled into the backseat with Mary Margaret, the hilt of a large knife sticking out of his gut.
Regina hops out of the driver's seat and runs around the hood of the car. "We got jumped by a couple of Angels. It all happened so fast - the next thing I know…" she trails off.
Emma stands frozen in place, suddenly at a loss on what to do. She feels strong hands wrap around her arms and pull her away from the truck.
"Find my brother."
Emma blinks and remembers how to breathe.
"Emma. Find my brother." Killian repeats over his shoulder as he helps Mary Margaret pull David out of the car.
Emma spins on her heels and runs back inside, the loud thumping in her chest drowning out the heavy stomp of her boots on the floor. She stumbles to a stop just past the door and looks around, the vastness of the place making itself known at that very moment. So she does the only thing she thinks might help. "Liam!"
She takes off to the right and bursts into a couple of rooms but no sign of Liam - or any other healer for that matter. Fuck. She goes down another hallway, still yelling, almost laughing at how comically possible it is to find who she's looking for at the very last place she decides to look.
Just as she closes the door on another room she barged in on, someone grabs her elbow and leads her down the corridor. "Stop shouting, you're scaring the other patients."
Emma whips around at Liam's voice, relief washing down but not entirely settling over her. "Oh thank god. Someone needs your help."
"Yes, everyone heard."
They make their way back to the front door, emerging just in time to meet Killian carrying an almost-unconscious David into the clinic. Liam drapes the other arm over his shoulder and helps his brother move him into the closest room. They set him down gently on the bed, careful not to jostle the blade.
David groans loudly - angrily - as he lays down and Emma thinks it's his way of keeping himself awake. Mary Margaret has both her hands over her mouth, oblivious of the fact that she's just stained her face with David's blood. Regina wraps her arms around her and holds her back, giving space to the people that can actually do something to save him.
"You can save him, right?" Emma hears her voice tremble and she grips the railing at the foot of the bed as hard as she can.
Liam cuts David's shirt to have a better look, ignoring Emma's question. David appears to have grown impatient at all the looking, making a grab for the knife himself.
Liam catches his wrist midair. "Do not touch it." he warns through gritted teeth.
David drops his arm at his side with a frustrated yell.
Emma watches helplessly as Liam spends a full minute just examining the wound, why the hell does he not just pull the damn thing out and heal him coming out as a distressed "Liam."
"I," Liam starts, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. "Am trying to make sure he does not immediately die when I take this out before I have the chance to actually heal him."
Emma bites her tongue and holds the railing tighter, wondering if it's possible for her to leave grooves with the way she's clutching it.
"Okay," Liam looks at David's face and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I am going to pull and it is going to hurt."
"Just fucking do it." David grits out and takes a deep breath. Then his head swivels to the other side, brows drawn together in confusion.
Emma follows his line of sight and sees Killian's hand wrapped firmly around David's forearm. She releases her death grip on the railing and moves to the side, stands right behind Killian.
"It's okay." he whispers, to whom, Emma's not sure.
Liam carefully pulls the blade out and sets it on a nearby table. Emma's certain he notices how David doesn't even flinch because Liam's eyes flick in his brother's direction. He raises his hand over the bloody tear in David's stomach and heals him.
David's face changes from bewilderment to relief in a span of ten seconds. Killian and Liam move away at the same time, Mary Margaret taking it as her cue to rush to the bed and and cradle David's head in her hands.
"You're okay?" she asks, tears still running down her face.
"I'm okay." David reassures her, rubbing his thumb over her cheeks.
They share a couple of kisses, not caring who else is in the room. Liam shifts awkwardly where he stands but doesn't clear his throat, which Emma believes took a lot of effort from him.
Mary Margaret suddenly turns around and wraps her arms tight around Killian's waist. She says thank you over and over again completely oblivious to how both Emma and Liam jerk toward them. Killian just smiles and returns the hug.
"He'll need some rest," Liam motions at David. "So stay here as long as you need- " he gets cut off by Mary Margaret's embrace.
"We will never forget this." she promises, eyes welling up again.
"We're just doing our jobs," Liam says, already moving to the door, bloody knife in hand. "Get some rest." he reminds David as he leaves.
"I'll leave you to your privacy." Killian backs away and puts his hand on the doorknob to swing it closed.
"Killian," Emma chases after him before he could shut the door. "I…thank you. For what you did for him." she tentatively puts her hand on his jaw, where an angry bruise is already starting to form.
He doesn't move away and even leans into the touch. She brushes her thumb over the swollen lip.
"It's no trouble, love," he puts his hand over hers and pulls it down. "Like my brother said, it's our duty to help people."
Emma's chest tightens as Killian gives her a small smile then walks away. She can't tell whether it's because of the way her heart swells when she thinks of him or because in the back of her mind, she can already feel something dreadful is about to happen.
—-
It only took the universe a week to prove Emma right.
She spends five minutes looking for Killian in the clinic before fishing her phone out of her jeans to just call him to ask him where he is. She glimpses Liam in one of the rooms she passes but sees he's with a patient so she decides against disturbing him. Her thumb hovers over the call button when she registers who is in there with Liam.
She backpedals and cranes her neck to look back at the person sitting on the edge of the bed - she'd recognize that mop of hair from any angle. She trips over her feet and practically stumbles into the room.
Killian's head jerks in her direction and quickly looks back at his brother. "You said she wasn't here." he whispers angrily.
"She wasn't when you asked." Liam says calmly, his gloved hand tightening around Killian's forearm to keep him from moving.
"What happened?" Emma walks around the bed and immediately reaches out when she sees the blood on Killian's face, starting from his brow all the way down his neck. A lone butterfly bandage above his eye is holding his skin together.
He instinctively cringes away, Liam having to squeeze hard and hiss Stay still.
She tries to come closer again but Killian actually puts his other hand up to stop her.
"I'm fine love, it looks a lot worse than it is." he assures her, the expression on his face not entirely convincing.
"What happened?" she asks again, now seeing the large patch of bruise on his bare torso, and his left arm on a table, his hand resting there in an odd angle. His lip didn't even have the chance to heal properly. She clenches her hands into fists to keep them at her side.
Killian and Liam share a look and it took everything for Emma not to yell in frustration at that moment.
"I ran into Arthur," Killian finally says, choosing to look at what his brother is doing instead of Emma. "He's still sore over our last encounter."
She frowns. "The warehouse? Why would he be mad at you for that?"
"I did foil his plans of bringing Merlin over to his side." he locks eyes with her then.
"That wasn't you, that was Merlin's choice." she replies simply, not understanding at all.
"Clearly he doesn't see it that way."
Emma stares deep into his eyes until he breaks eye contact. "There's something you're not telling me."
The brothers share another look and this time, Emma couldn't keep from throwing her hands in the air.
Killian rubs the back of his neck with his uninjured hand and heaves a sigh. "He…he said a few choice words…about, well…" he motions in her direction then puts his hand on his knee, Emma noticing the angry red marks on his knuckles.
Her tense shoulders fall and the corner of her mouth twitches upward. He wouldn't meet her eyes again so she moves to sit next to him on the bed.
He quickly scoots away as much as Liam would let him, ignoring his brother's I am going to strap this arm down on this table if you do not stop moving. Killian tightens his hold on his knee.
"Did you throw the first punch?" Emma asks, kind of hoping that he did hit Arthur first.
"No," he shakes his head. "But I did break his nose."
She grins at him and brings her hand up to touch his face.
He jerks his head down and away again, already knowing what she's trying to do. "You don't have to do that."
"I know." she cups his face, his stubble grazing against her palm. She doesn't feel different so she lifts his chin to make him look at her. She rubs her thumb across his cheekbone until he relaxes under her touch, his grip on his knee starting to slacken. A dull ache starts from her fingertips and cascades down her arms in tendrils, unraveling across her chest.
Killian closes his eyes, breathes deep, and leans into her hands.
In that moment, looking at his blissful and bloodied face, Emma realizes how deeply she cares for him. How he's her last thought when she falls asleep staring at the night sky outside her window, and the first one when the sun rays filter in and coax her eyes open. She finds herself always wanting to make him smile just as much as he does for her, to hear the rumble of his laughter. She yearns for his touch, the warmth of his skin against hers, no matter what else comes with it.
He pulls gently on her elbow, and tucks her hands back in her lap. He squeezes once, thanks her with his eyes.
Liam clears his throat, making Emma jump a little off the bed. "It's not broken but you're going to have to wear a splint for a while," he raises an eyebrow when Killian makes a face. "Maybe not break your fall with it the next time you decide to get in a fight."
"Thanks, I'll try that." he replies sarcastically.
They continue to bicker like that as Liam secures Killian's wrist with great difficulty (I can do it by myself. With one hand and blood in your eye?)
She suddenly wonders what she would be doing right at this moment if she hadn't met Killian. What her life would be like if he hadn't brought her to this place, hadn't met these people. How different things would be if he hadn't helped her shake off the Angels chasing her that day.
Emma then decides that picking that purse off the floor was the best decision she's made in a long, long time.
—-
"What are you thinking about?" Mary Margaret bumps her with her hip, intrigue written all over her face.
"What?" Emma moves away from the sink where she'd been standing for probably the last ten minutes.
Mary Margaret eyes her suspiciously. "Who are you thinking about?" she rephrases, mischievous glint in her eye.
"Nothing. No one." Emma answers too quickly, which only proves she is thinking about something, someone.
Mary Margaret's mouth stretches into a wide grin, like she's just discovered a secret.
"Shut up." Emma stalks away from the kitchen and joins the others in the living room.
Mary Margaret follows her, almost - Emma swears it - skipping the entire way. "I think he's wonderful."
"He saved David's life, of course you'd think that." Emma replies over her shoulder.
"How is he?" Mary Margaret either did not hear what Emma said or just ignored it altogether. "Last time I saw him, he looked like he could have used a healer too."
"Who are we talking about?" David says from the couch, lowering the volume of the television.
"Emma's boyfriend- "
"He's not my- "
"That guy from the clinic, you know, the one with the accent." Mary Margaret talks over Emma's half-hearted protests.
"The healer?" David clarifies, face scrunched up like he's having a hard time remembering. He was dying at the time after all.
"No the other one."
"Oh." David's eyes drift down to his hand as he closes it around a handful of air.
"So?" Mary Margaret resumes her grilling. "Tell us!"
Emma sighs and hangs her head. It's actually a miracle her friends (Mary Margaret) have been able to wait this long to ask her about him given their (her) incessant meddling. Emma's sure she's been holding this in since their accidental first meeting in her kitchen.
"He's fine," Emma wanted to keep her answer short but Mary Margaret motions for her to go on. "A little more banged up than you last saw him but he's fine."
"Why, what happened?" Regina joins in on the interrogation now.
"Arthur happened." Emma doesn't hide the anger in her voice when he says the name.
"Arthur?" David sits up, face changing into a more serious expression. "They know each other?"
Emma hesitates. She immediately regrets mentioning Arthur, suddenly remembering who his possible current associate is. "They're not friends." she chooses to say instead.
"But they know each other," David confirms, leaning forward in his seat. "Emma, that's too close."
Emma bristles at that, feeling defensive. "We don't even know for sure if Gold is working with Arthur. And he doesn't know who I am."
"Not yet," Regina chimes in. "Has he seen you?"
Emma once again answers a different question. "Arthur doesn't know my name. He doesn't know who I am, let alone who's after me. We don't even know if he still is. We don't know a lot of things."
"But we do know when it's getting too dangerous. We already got ambushed - by amateurs yes -" David adds quickly when Emma opens her mouth to say something in protest. "And this," he puts his index finger on the table. "This is too damn risky."
Emma rises to her feet, too restless and riled up to be sitting down. She can already feel where this conversation is headed and no, she refuses to let it get there, for anyone to say it out loud. "No." is all she manages to say, violently shaking her head.
"Emma," Mary Margaret holds one of her shaking hands. "If Gold is still looking for you, if he finds out he's this close, if he knows who to ask…He is going to do it and he's not going to do it nicely."
Emma looks at her friends, can see how genuinely sorry they are at how things suddenly turned. She asks them to give her some time to think, which they oblige without further objections. Then she stumbles into her room, overwhelmed by the thoughts racing in her head, the deafening sound of her heart thumping wildly against her chest.
The rational part of her mind agrees with David - this is the kind of thing that would make them pack up and leave, start over in a place far away from here. It's never been a problem for her, the priority was always to keep herself and her friends hidden. It's always been easy to throw her life in a bag, get in David's truck, and never look back.
But then again she's never really had a reason to stay.
She doesn't get any sleep that night. She just watches the dark sky change colors, the sun unwelcome for the first time in months.
—-
Emma takes her time walking to the clinic, going the entire way on foot that when she finds herself standing before its familiar doors, her calves are already burning. She keeps her hands in her coat pockets and stares angrily at her boots, as if they've dragged her there against her will. She's not sure how long she stands there, only moving when someone else needed to get inside. She takes a deep breath and steps through the doors, something cold and ugly forming at the pit of her stomach.
She navigates the hallways, checking each room quickly - no one is ever sure where Killian is, he always seems to be in some random patient's room at any time. She always finds him eventually though.
"Hello, love." Or sometimes he finds her.
Emma backpedals to the supply closet, where Killian is currently rifling through the shelves, splinted hand clumsily pushing things around. She stands by the doorway, putting her hands on the door jamb. "Hey."
"I could have sworn we still had clean bed sheets in here." he says, ducking his head into one of the lower racks.
Emma doesn't say anything, just watches him reach blindly into back of the shelf. She smiles at how normal he looks doing that, how human. He comes up empty, sighing in defeat. He walks over to her and Emma, distracted by the thoughts racing through her head, lets him kiss her.
She instantly regrets it when she sees his face fall, eyebrows drawn together in concern.
"Is something the matter?" he asks, reaching out to cup her face.
Emma avoids it by twisting around to close the door behind her. "I need to talk to you."
"Okay." He takes a few steps back to make room for her.
Emma can hear the unease in his tone. This is one of the few times where she finds his ability very inconvenient. She tucks her hair behind her ears while she searches for the words to tell him, while she gathers enough courage to go through with what she's about to do.
Killian waits for her patiently and it almost changes her mind. Almost.
"I can't…do this anymore."
The look of shock on his face is like a punch in the gut. She would double over if she wasn't trying so hard to keep her wits about her. This is for the best, she reminds herself, still not as convinced as she would like to be if she's actually doing this.
He opens his mouth but the words don't come. But Emma already knows what he's struggling to say - his eyes have always done most of the talking for him. So she avoids looking at them entirely, choosing to stare at the spot on the wall behind his head.
"It's just too much for me right now." She lies through her teeth. If she's putting him through this, she's going to do it properly by not giving him a reason to hope for a different ending. This needs to be a clean break - for his sake.
He blinks, like he can't quite process what she's saying and Emma's chest hurts at the sight.
She couldn't keep herself from taking a small step forward. She fights the tears that begin to pool in her eyes when he steps back, his arm halfway up between them, as if he can't decide if she wants to keep her back or let her come closer. His injured hand is clenched into a tight fist and she's certain that's the least painful thing he's feeling right now. He stands frozen like that, stuck between disbelief and confusion.
For a split second Emma wishes she could take the last five minutes back, she can't be the one to put that look on his face. This is for the best, she tells herself again - maybe if she repeats it enough times, she can pretend to be okay with it.
"I'm sorry." In a moment of weakness, she reaches out and touches his outstretched hand. It just takes her fingertips brushing against his palm for the surge of emotions to hit her like a ton of bricks, making her struggle to take a proper breath.
"Don't." Killian hisses, violently jerking his hand out of her grasp and backing right into the wall.
Emma clutches her chest, her knees buckling at the intensity of the feelings coursing through her body. The tears fall uncontrollably and she covers her mouth to keep a sob from escaping. She glances at Killian's blurry figure, his back against the wall in the shadow of the dimly lit closet. He keeps his head down, his dark hair falling over his eyes.
She pulls herself together and wipes angrily at the tears that have stained her cheeks. She sniffs, prepares to say something, anything that would help alleviate the hurt he's feeling. The words escape her.
"Just go." He whispers, not lifting his head at all.
Emma finds herself taking another step closer and it breaks her heart to see him press himself harder against the wall, like a cornered animal.
"Please." His voice breaks then.
Her feet refuse to move, a last ditch effort by the emotional part of her brain to tell her she's making a mistake. She listens to the logical part though, forcing herself to back away slowly.
"I'm sorry." She says again before turning around and placing a trembling hand on the doorknob. She opens the door before she changes her mind, compelling her legs to walk out of the room. She shuts the door to allow him some time and space to himself. She stands just outside the supply closet for a while, trying to hear any kind of sound from inside.
She leaves without hearing anything, the silence following her as she treads down the hallway and out of the clinic.
—-
Mary Margaret wraps her arms around Emma as they curl up on the couch. "Oh, honey…"
Emma has already cried her eyes out, evidenced by the coffee table littered with Kleenex. She's fresh out of tears and is currently letting her best friend hold her while she waits for a fresh wave of sadness to hit her. She's sure there's another one coming.
She's still torn between dreading tomorrow and leaving this town and everyone living here, and looking forward to it, to put as much distance as possible between her and that clinic. Because Mary Margaret's embrace is about the only thing keeping her form marching back in there and retracting everything she's said yesterday. It's for the best, she thinks, repeating her mantra over and over again.
She listens to David move around her kitchen, no doubt cooking her another meal she'd end up not eating. But she's grateful for the company, for her friends keeping her together just like the last time - just like they always do. She closes her eyes while Mary Margaret strokes her hair. Maybe she can finally get some sleep.
Emma feels herself drifting into a much awaited slumber when someone bursts through the door, yanking her back into consciousness.
"Regina!" she hears Mary Margaret whisper angrily.
Emma cracks an eye open to see Regina come around the couch and stand in front of them, hands on her hips.
"We have a problem," she announces, the urgency in her voice enough to make Emma sit up. "We can't leave. Not now."
"What is it?" David walks up to stand behind the couch.
"Gold knows," Regina utters the two words and they make little sense to Emma. "He knows, Emma." she adds when it becomes clear Emma doesn't understand. Because that's exactly the point - if Gold knows, then all the more reason to disappear, and fast.
"How?" Mary Margaret asks after a beat, not taking her arm off Emma's shoulders.
"That idiot Greg," Regina says the name like it's the dirtiest word that ever came out of her mouth. "He apparently remembers you from the clinic and ratted you out. I knew that place was too high profile."
Emma still cannot make sense of what Regina is saying.
David puts his hands on the back of the couch and leans forward. "Where did you hear this?"
"Emma's got friends on the other side, I've got some on ours. I didn't totally tune out Angel radio unlike some people." Regina looks pointedly at Mary Margaret.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Emma interrupts Mary Margaret's reply to the insult. "Who's Greg?"
"Tall, skinny guy, barely any hair left on his head. Has some anger management issues?" Regina tries to remind her. "He told Gold about you and Killian - about how there's a you and Killian. Or used to be. The point is Gold might now know where you are but he now knows someone who does."
The information finally sinks in and a cold shiver runs down Emma's spine. She recalls who Greg is - she'll never forget the face and now she'll always remember the name.
"He punched Killian in the face. I may have overreacted a little bit when I twisted his arm and threw him against the wall."
"Emma." David chides with a disapproving sigh.
"Well, it already happened what do you want me to do?" Emma snaps irritably, jumping up from her seat. She begins to pace the living room.
"What do you want to do?" Regina asks, watching Emma burn a hole in her carpet.
Emma doesn't answer immediately. She tries to anticipate what Gold would do, if there's any way Killian will come out of this situation unscathed. But Gold is not the problem, Killian is. She's sure, even after recent events, he's not going to tell Gold anything and that's what's going to get him hurt - or worse.
This is the exact situation she wanted to avoid but it happened anyway. She has to warn Killian.
She grabs David's phone from the coffee table and hands it to him. "Call Killian."
His eyebrows go up in surprise. "What? Why me?"
Emma puts the phone in his hand. "I can't do it," I can't hear his voice again. "He won't answer if it's me. You have to do it."
"And you think he'll answer if it's me?" David looks at Mary Margaret then Regina, waiting for someone to support his counterargument. Neither one does. "Fine." He relents, dialing Killian's number.
Emma waits impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest to keep her fingers from twitching. She already has a sinking feeling and she really needs Killian to answer the phone right now.
"I'm getting his voicemail," David says, shaking his head. "Let me try again."
Emma feels her pulse quicken and her hands go cold. Something terrible is going to happen, she can feel it. She goes around the couch and snags David's phone right out of his hands when he doesn't connect a second time. Emma ignores the Hey! when she does.
She calls Killian's number again and presses the phone against her ear. He should be home by now, he should be picking up his damn phone. Her heart hammers with every unanswered ring and she outright curses when she hears his outgoing message. "Shit."
She shoves the phone back in David's hands. "Keep trying until you get a hold of him."
"Emma," Mary Margaret follows Emma to the other side of the room. "Emma, be smart about this. We've managed to evade him all this time, we can do it again. There's too much at stake here."
Emma climbs out of her apartment window and into the building's fire exit. She clambers up the railing, planting her feet on the narrow iron fence. She turns her head at the insistent Emma from the window, Mary Margaret's entire upper body leaning out.
"I've got nothing left to lose," she declares, putting her hand on the wall for balance. "I lost it all when I met him." She looks down at the street below and in the next second, steps off the railing.
For a moment Emma thought she is going to fall six stories and break every bone in both her legs but muscle memory takes over. She stretches her wings and catches flight right before she hits the pavement.
This is all I have to give - half a life and the will to live. I don’t know what I am running from. Maybe I’m just running to you.
Chapter 1 here
Chapter 2 here
Chapter 3 here
Chapter 4 here
A/N: So the Teen Wolf series finale kept me from functioning properly and updating this last week that I am posting two chapters now. Mostly because it got way too long that I had to split it into two separate parts.
"I need coffee - there's coffee here right?" David's voice wafts into the kitchen.
"Honestly, David." Mary Margaret doesn't hide the disapproval in her tone.
"Do you even have food in your own apartment?" Regina joins the conversation, the sound of the door clicking closed finally echoing off the walls.
Killian steps back gracefully, like he's used to moving quickly away from people. Emma faces the coffee pot and hastily wipes the tears off her cheeks.
"Yes but I got dragged out of there before I can- " David stops in his tracks when he steps foot in the kitchen.
"I should really take those keys back." Emma says, turning around and leaning on the counter, crossing her arms over her chest.
Mary Margaret's face changes to something comical when she sees Killian scratching behind his ear. She swats at David's shoulder then shoves him back toward the front door.
"Guys, don't be idiots, you're already inside." Emma calls out when all three scramble to leave.
Mary Margaret peeks her head around the corner, guilt all over her face. "We're so sorry. We didn't expect - we're sorry."
"I should go," Killian whispers, putting his mug in the sink. "Thank you for making sure I did not spend the night on some random sidewalk."
"What? No, look, no one's leaving." Emma pushes off the counter and unfolds her arms. She looks at Killian then at her friends crowding on one side of the room.
"Okay, so, you want to introduce us then?" David jerks his head in Killian's direction and got an elbow to the gut for his trouble.
Emma sighs and throws her head back - maybe while she's staring at the ceiling, the situation will become less awkward and painful. But of course, it does not.
Because Mary Margaret, being the sociable person she is, takes it upon herself to start the introductions, crossing the kitchen in three quick strides with her hand already outstretched in front of her. "My name's Mary Margaret."
Emma lowers her head just in time to catch Killian stiffen and fail to restrain a tentative step away from Mary Margaret. Emma darts forward and intercepts the attempted handshake by grabbing Mary Margaret's arm and exclaiming Don't!
Her friends stare at her like she's possessed.
"Emma, it's fine." Killian mumbles low, putting a warm hand on her back.
"I would rather you not touch anyone for a while. Yesterday was rough for you." Emma says over her shoulder.
"Okay, well, I didn't need to hear that." David almost shouts, like he's trying to drown out whatever else Emma had to say. He crosses his arms and finds something interesting on the wall on the other side of the kitchen. He stares at it.
"That's not what- " Emma lets go of Mary Margaret's arm to bury her face in her hands. "Christ."
"Really Emma, it's okay," Killian insists, taking Mary Margaret's hand that is still dangling in midair, forgotten. "Killian Jones."
Emma watches through her fingers as they shake hands, neither one showing any indication of a sudden influx of emotions. She lowers her hands around her neck in an attempt to hide the furious blush that David's comment set off.
"This here is Regina," Mary Margaret continues the introductions as if she was never interrupted. "And this is David. David." she hisses his name a second time when he doesn't extend his hand.
David takes a small step forward and reaches out the rest of the way, leaning forward sharply. He shakes Killian's hand once then retreats to his former spot. Killian glances uncertainly at Emma and she just rolls her eyes in a Don't mind him kind of way.
"Ignore him," Regina waves her hand dismissively at David. "He's just not used to seeing other people in this apartment."
"That's because other people aren't even supposed to know about this apartment." David mutters under his breath.
"Right. I apologize for the intrusion," Killian puts a hand over his chest. "I'll leave." he nods once at Emma and starts to walk toward the front door.
"Wait," Emma chases after Killian, glaring at David when she passes him. She beats Killian to the door and stands in front of it, holding her arms out in front of her. "Please don't go. David's just being a jerk. Please."
He smiles softly at her. "He's not the reason I'm in a rush to leave, love."
"He's not?"
"Did you tell my brother where I am?" Killian asks simply.
"I…" Emma completely spaced out on doing that. "…did not."
Killian reaches into this pocket and pulls out his phone, Liam's name flashing brightly on the display. "It's the incessant buzzing that woke me. And including this, he's called four more times since then."
Emma vaguely remembers a tingling sensation when she had her hands on him but dismissed it as a consequence of the overwhelming mess of feelings that were coursing through her at the time. She stares at the screen until the call disconnects, replaced by (11) New Voicemails. "I didn't know how to contact him - shit, he's gonna hate me even more now."
He chuckles at that, putting his phone back in his pocket. "I actually think you're one of the few people he genuinely likes," he motions toward the door behind her. "I just have to let him know I'm not lying dead in some dingy backstreet. It's not the type of phone call I should have within earshot of people I just met. And it looks like you have some explaining of your own to do here anyway."
"But…" Emma tries to find an excuse to make him stay. They have some things to talk about themselves.
Killian comes closer and crowds her against the door. Her breath catches as she looks up at him, her eyes immediately flicking down to his lips. "We'll have time to talk about it later." he whispers low.
She hears a soft click amid the furious thumping in her chest. She looks down to find Killian's hand around the doorknob. He tugs gently, making her step right into his personal space. The absurd part of her brain urges her to laugh at the rhythmic vibration in his jacket and she only barely manages to keep it down.
He backs away, pulling the door open enough to squeeze through. "Goodbye Emma." he says with a smirk on his face then disappears outside.
—-
Emma shuts the door by leaning against it, knocking her head lightly on the wood. She couldn't hide the grin that spreads across her face. Not even when she hears her coffee maker start up again followed by a very annoyed Seriously David?!
She reluctantly pushes her body off the door and drags her feet back to the hushed conversation in the other room. She stands just inside the threshold between the living room and the kitchen and crosses her arms over her chest. She waits until Mary Margaret notices her disgruntled posture.
"We are so sorry," she says again, and walks around the table to put her hands on Emma's shoulders. "But you never mentioned anything about seeing anyone and now you absolutely have to!" her voice increases in pitch as she talks, her grip on Emma becoming a tight squeeze.
"Mmm," David quickly swallows the coffee in his mouth, shaking his head. "No, you definitely don't."
Emma shrugs out of Mary Margaret's hold and retrieves her cup from David's hands. She doesn't have enough caffeine in her system to be dealing with her friends right now. "Why are you here?"
"It's Gold." Regina says without any kind of forewarning.
Emma struggles not to spit out what she's drinking. The energy in the room rapidly shifts into something more serious.
"It's just chatter, nothing for certain." Mary Margaret quickly interjects.
"Yet," Regina leans on the table in the middle of the kitchen. "He's been quiet for a long time. Just the fact that his name is out there again is not something to take lightly."
"Well, what exactly are they saying about him now?" Emma wraps her fingers tightly around her warm cup, the heat doing little to battle the chill that just went down her spine.
"From what we've heard, he's gathering followers - recruiting or something." David slides a chair closer to take a seat.
"Recruiting, for what?"
"That," Regina lifts a finger in the air. "Is unclear at this point. Like we said, nothing about this has been confirmed."
"But what's good is it doesn't sound like it has anything to do with you or any of us, right?" Mary Margaret puts a tentative smile on her face. "Maybe he's found something or someone else to hunt down."
"Or he's finally building an army to come after us because we almost rendered him immobile during our last encounter." Regina helpfully suggests. Mary Margaret glares at her in reply.
Emma frowns at the coffee slowly cooling in her hand. Something doesn't sit right with this new information. In all the time she's spent running from that man, Gold has always worked alone - he believed anyone else is just deadweight and would slow him down. Granted, Emma shattered one of his legs that for anyone else would warrant some assistance but she also did that by literally dropping an entire building on him and he came out of it with just a busted up knee and if that's not an indication of how little he relies on other people, then she's not sure what is.
"Okay, let's not jump to conclusions now, we know next to nothing at this point," David reasons. "The last thing we want is for one of us to overreact and make a mistake. Let's just keep doing what we're doing, keeping our heads down until we learn more, alright?"
Mary Margaret nods firmly in agreement but Regina tilts her head like she's unsure of something.
"What?" David's shoulders drop uncertainly.
Regina hesitates to answer. "Well…I just don't think spending most days with Angels that just came from violent altercations is the best way to 'keep our heads down.'"
They all look at Emma at the same time. She's chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.
"You said…he's gathering followers?" Emma asks, choosing to ignore the latter part of the conversation. "Do we know any of them?"
David glances at Regina. "There's only one other name that comes up just as much as Gold's."
Emma raises an eyebrow in question.
"Arthur."
—-
The quiet murmur of the clinic accompanies Emma as she walks down the hallway, the sound having already become a part of her every day routine despite Regina's misgivings. She smiles at Robin when they walk past each other and she feels proud when he beams back. She thought she's forgotten what it feels like to belong in a group other than her family and she's quite surprised it's that easy to remember. She opens the door to the back room and stops when she sees Liam on the couch, going through some paperwork.
His eyes snap up to her, the pen in his hand hovering over a piece of paper.
Emma starts to back away, the awkwardness between them still as palpable as the day they met - perhaps more so now that she and Killian are…what they are.
"Emma," Liam says, putting his pen down. "Come in and close the door."
She hesitates for a split-second but does as she's asked, muttering a low uh-oh under her breath. What did she do wrong now?
He gestures at the chair next to him. Emma sits down tentatively, her legs already eager to stand back up and leave. She's not easily intimidated by other people but Killian's brother is a different story.
"He's worried," Liam starts without preamble. "About you." he adds when Emma's confusion translates to furrowed eyebrows.
"Worried? Why would he be worried?"
"I don't know, you tell me," Liam shrugs, the softness of his voice a little unnerving. "I just notice the way he looks at you sometimes."
"You keep an eye on how he looks at me?" Emma asks in disbelief.
He raises an eyebrow at her. "Knowing what he can do, what he's been through, and how he deals with things, I keep an eye on everything."
She fidgets in her seat, slowly realizing there's now more than one Jones who can make her feel restless with just an earnest gaze.
Liam leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Are you okay?"
That's about the last thing she expected to hear from Liam that it takes her a few seconds to reply. "Yeah. Yes, I'm fine."
He narrows his eyes at her. "I don't know a lot about you but I can tell you're lying."
She grips the armrests to keep herself from bolting out of the room. Damn these brothers and their perceptiveness.
She bites the inside of her cheek and avoids eye contact. She hasn't told anyone else about Gold resurfacing and what that means for her and her life here, now. About how it's very likely he's amassing an army of Angels. About how Arthur is probably one of them. About the possibility that Gold is the one who planted the idea of opening the Gates in the first place. Because none of it is for sure and she isn't going to start trouble where there isn't one.
"Look," Liam leans back, sensing Emma's unease. "Whatever it is, you don't have to tell me. But word of advice - keeping things from each other is not the way to start a…relationship," - Emma almost laughs at how he struggled to say the last word - "And he's not going to pressure you to tell him. He's going to wait until you're ready."
Emma nods because she knows as well that's what Killian is going to do.
"You don't have to tell him now," he continues, picking his pen up from the table to resume his work. "Just don't wait too long."
—-
Emma scratches at the corner of the label of the beer bottle in her hand. She picks at it until it lifts then peels it away from the cold glass. She flicks her fingers until it falls off and lands on the kitchen counter she's currently leaning against.
"Do you want to talk about what that bottle has done to offend you?"
She tears her eyes away from the glass and looks at Killian standing on the other side of her kitchen. He takes a sip of his coffee, having refused the beer she offered him a while ago. (I don't like the way it makes me feel. You mean buzzed? No, I mean numb.)
"Sorry," Emma says, putting the beer bottle on the counter. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."
"I can see that." he puts his cup down on the surface as well.
Killian had walked her home and there was very little said on the way. She knows firsthand how observant he is when it comes to body language and maybe that's why he didn't decline Emma's invitation to come up.
"I just feel like," she puts her hands in front of her like she's trying to grab something in the air. "Like my past is catching up with me. Again."
Killian walks up and leans beside her against the counter. He puts his weight on his hands and looks up at the ceiling. "I don't think of it like that - the past will always be a part of me. It's a matter of how I let that affect who I am and what I do."
"What if it's something I don't want to be a part of me? What if I want to leave it behind?"
He looks at her when he answers. "Then you're letting it control what you do now. Instead of discovering what it is that makes you happy, you spend your time running from something you already know does not."
Emma grips the counter at how close that hits home.
"It's a hollow life to lead, simply fighting for what you already have, only striving to keep what's already yours. It's dreams that give life meaning, that give you purpose to get out bed in the morning. It's wanting more out of life that makes it worth living. Is that not what you believe anymore?"
Emma frowns at him. "Maybe a lifetime ago. But I've come to learn that it's not that easy. It's simple when you put it like that, but it's a hell of a lot harder to do. You wouldn't understand."
A heavy hush descends on them, Emma glaring at a chip on a tile of the kitchen floor. She immediately regrets what she's said, wanting to take her words back but not knowing how. She recognizes it's not fair to snap at someone who has been nothing but a good listener. She strings together a hasty apology in her head and musters the courage to actually say it.
He doesn't give her the chance.
"It was her idea coming down here," Killian says, keeping his voice low. "I remember not wanting to leave. I was happy with my life up there and I did not want to give that up for…" he motions his hand around the room. "This…But when she's made up her mind, there's no changing it, and right then, I really didn't have a choice anymore."
Emma doesn't want to pose the question but she asks anyway. "What was her name?"
Killian takes a while to answer, staring at his shoes the entire time. "Milah. Her name was Milah."
She lets him take his time to continue, watching the veins in his forearms dance when he tightens his hold on the counter. She sees him work his jaw, like he's clamping down on words that are in a rush to come out. She's all too familiar with what it's like to start talking about something that's been buried deep for so long - everything is so eager to break free, as if sensing its own imminent re-imprisonment.
"We've always been told who we ought to be, what roles we need to play, what we should and shouldn't be doing. And I didn't have a problem with that, I thought it was simple, easy even. But Milah," Killian laughs softly then, like he's recalling a fond memory. "She wouldn't have any of it. She would ask me if I could be anyone, be anywhere, who would that be, where. She had such a passion for life and I found it mesmerizing."
Killian lifts his head, looking at nothing in particular. Emma stares at his profile, the beginnings of a small smile playing on his lips.
"Milah, she was an empath too. At the time we thought it'd be perfect. There would be no secrets between us, we'd always know what the other was feeling. But we soon discovered we could change what others were feeling and that we could use that to help them,"
"She was always more connected to the ability, more attuned to the mass of emotions that would at times suffocate me. I asked her to stop when it became clear the feelings were too confusing, too intense,"
Emma knows how the story ends and she doesn't fight back the tears that are starting to blur her vision.
"I think I knew I'd already lost her even before that day on the rooftop. She lost herself in the sea of emotions she willingly took on and I was well on my way myself to even find my own way back," he pauses and swallows hard, like there's literally a lump in his throat. "I will never forget the smell of her skin burning around the handle of the gun, or the sound her body made when she fell to the floor," his voice is on the verge of breaking but his eyes remain clear.
"She ran in the most permanent way possible and I almost, almost went with her. If it weren't for my brother, I…"
He looks down at the floor again and clenches his jaw.
"I swore I would never let myself feel that strongly for another. That I would never lose myself like that again."
Killian shifts to face her and waits until she makes eye contact.
"So I do in fact understand how hard it is to get back up. What it takes to not drown in the darkness and instead hang on to that last ray of sunlight. To not settle for what already is but to work for something more for yourself and maybe even for other people," he stares deep into Emma's watery eyes. "And I know you," he says firmly. "You're strong enough to do that too."
Liam's words suddenly ring loud in Emma's head. One heartbreak almost killed him. He's not going to survive another one.
Emma closes her eyes, tears finally cascading down her cheeks. "I might not be. And I don't want to take you down with me. What about your promise to yourself? Of not letting your ability steal away who you are?" she opens them again to find him still gazing at her.
Killian smiles warmly, the kind that reaches his eyes. "You're worth me losing my mind."
A beat passes then Emma's entire body moves to kiss him that he stumbles backward as he inhales sharply through his nose. She feels it too, the overwhelming affection hitting her like a ton of bricks. It steals the breath from her lungs so she wraps her arms around his neck and holds on to him like he's air. The heat of his mouth and the grip of his fingers on her hips invades her senses until it makes her dizzy.
"I want to feel you," she whispers. "All of you."
Killian rests his forehead on hers, his breath tickling her lips. "Are you sure?"
Emma's never been more sure about anything in her life. "Yes."
He takes another second of indecision before crushing their lips together, his hand moving to the back of her head. He slides his tongue against hers, drawing a soft moan from the back of her throat.
Emma pushes, walking them out of the kitchen. Her skin is on fire, like his fingers are burning through her clothes. It's suddenly too hot, too damn hot. She breaks the kiss to pull her shirt over her head and tugs at Killian's for him to do the same. She leaves him barely any room to maneuver, making him stumble over his feet as he struggles to take his clothes off in the little space between them. He staggers, moving backward blindly.
She grabs his face again before his shirt even hits the floor. They lose their shoes the rest of the way, knocking a few things off of some tables they bump into along their haphazard trail, landing with a dull thud on the carpet.
Killian grabs her by the arms and crowds her against the closest door. He moves his lips across her jaw to lick behind her ear then kisses the length of her neck all the way down to her collarbone. Emma loses track of which door she's pressed up against - she prays it's the bedroom as she feels around for the doorknob.
They almost tumble to the floor when she twists the door open, their feet shuffling to maintain balance until she backs into the bed. She shoves him back and tugs at his jeans. His fingers move quickly to unbutton his pants and she undoes her own before kicking them off.
They fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs and a brief struggle follows before Emma wraps her legs around his waist and pushes, putting Killian on his back. She catches his oof! in her mouth and runs her hands down his body. He urgently pulls away from the kiss and heaves a deep breath like he's dying. His grip on her hips tightens, like he can't decide whether he wants to pull her closer or push her off.
Every inch of skin in contact sends a tickle down her spine, like there's a constant hum of electricity moving between them. Her chest feels full and only swells even more with each passing second. There's a blackness at the edge of her vision, threatening to crawl all the way to the center and steal her consciousness away before anything even happens. And there's simply no way she's going to let it.
She buries her face in his neck and breathes him in then leaves a trail of kisses past his chest, down his stomach. Emma hears Killian's breath hitch and when she takes him into her mouth, his breathing loses all rhythm. He throws an arm over his face while the other hand grabs onto a fistful of sheets. He pants, doesn't make any other kind of noise apart from the urgent Fuck! when Emma hollows her cheeks.
She pulls off with a soft pop and climbs back up to move his arm away from his face. He opens his eyes and Emma swallows thickly at the sight. She brushes her lips over his again and he leans forward to give her a proper kiss. She shivers when he runs his fingers down her back, a new burst of emotion with every shift of his fingertips.
Killian keeps his eyes on hers when she moves, adjusting her position over him. She puts one hand on his chest to steady herself before sinking down, down, down. He arches off the bed with a loud gasp, his eyes squeezed shut. He holds his breath and Emma knows then what he's doing.
"Killian."
He breathes out and back in in almost the same second that there's no way he actually put air back in his lungs. He opens his eyes and blinks furiously at the ceiling. His back is still a good inch off the mattress so Emma calls his name again, cupping his face in her hands.
"Killian."
He looks at her now, his unfocused eyes struggling to maintain contact. A strangled sound escapes from his throat and he closes his eyes again.
"Killian."
In the exact moment he finally relaxes into the bed, a tidal wave of emotions slams into Emma, like someone just dunked her entire body in water. There is no air to breathe, no sound to make nor hear, an invisible force pushing against her on all sides, caressing every part of her. She plants both arms on either side of his head when she lurches forward, almost falling on his face. He looks like he wants to say something but can't find enough air to do so.
Emma leans down and brings their lips together, moving her hips as she does. Killian puts one hand on her thigh and the other between her shoulder blades, returning the kiss in earnest. She whimpers softly against his mouth and quickens her pace. Her vision starts to swim and the ringing in her ears gets louder, louder. She hears his harsh breathing in the middle of all of it, like it's the only sound she's ever known, the only sound she ever wants to hear again.
Then everything shifts. Everything. From the tingling on the tips of her ears, to the massive weight in her chest, to the burning in her thighs, to the prickling in her toes. They all travel to one place, like they all suddenly knew at the same time that it's where they needed to be. And Emma has to dig her nails in whatever part of Killian she's holding onto to keep her sanity, to remember forever what's about to happen.
They come together in one explosive instant and it feels like time stills around them. Everything else fades from view and all she knows is the feeling of his skin against hers, the steady thrum of deep affection beating against her chest. In that moment there is nothing else but the two of them and she wishes for the next second to never arrive.
When it finally does, she sobs and falls on Killian's chest. He wraps his arms tightly around her, keeping a hand behind her head, his thumb tracing small circles behind her ear. She closes her eyes and commits to memory the steady rise and fall of his chest and the rhythmic beating of his heart.
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