Fragments of Home :: CS AU :: E :: Chapter 12
Title: Fragments of Home by @artistic-writer
Summary: Emma Swan must return home to her childhood town of Storybrooke when her mother dies and stays in the house left to her and her brother, David Nolan. Emma must juggle a temporary job at the hospital with her loss, something that has made her feel smaller than she ever was. When a tall, dark, handsome stranger comes into her life in the most unexpected way, and she begins to fall in love, will she stay in Storybrooke, or return to her new life back in New York?
Rating: E
Previous: Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - 11
Also on: AO3 - FF
A/N: I have been toying with this chapter for months - and I pretty much hate it - but the end is in sight! There is just one more chapter after this one, which i am sure will leave some of you asking questions. With special thanks to @kmomof4 for being a kickass beta, @hollyethecurious and @doodlelolly0910for listening to my ramblings and to @darkcolinodonorgasm for being so patient :D
Taglist: @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked@hollyethecurious @deathbycaptainswan @branlovesouat @delightfully-difficult-pirate @flipperbrain @wordsmith-storyweaver @jennjenn615 @doodlelolly0910 @darkcolinodonorgasm
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The hospital room Emma was in was very warm. David's shirt had stuck to his body like glue, a fine layer of sweat seeping from every one of his pores. He didn't care though. Emma, his sister, was tucked up in the bed next to him, sleeping soundly for the first time in almost a week. David shuffled in his seat, his huge bulk causing the chair to move a little, making David freeze and glance over at his snoozing sister. All of the machines in the room were gone and there was no longer the desperate sound of beeping and the occasional whoosh of oxygen filling Emma's nostrils.
She was mending. That was all that David cared about right now. Somehow, he had managed to keep Killian at bay by simply being there. They had only crossed paths now and then. When David felt he needed food or a shower, Killian had taken his place at the bedside and vice versa. Despite their differences, and David's still bubbling anger, they had decided that at the hospital and especially around Emma, they would be civil. Killian had come up with the suggestion and David had agreed, finally settling to shake the hand of the man who seemingly cared so much for his only sibling.
Killian had decided to return to work today, insisting that at least one of them should be there. That and he had decided that it was too much stress for Emma to constantly see both of them acting so awkward around each other. Killian couldn't focus at work, instead, however, ignoring everyone in the office and leaving his phone off of its cradle, the receiver tossed haphazardly to his desk. He didn't want to be disturbed. All he could think about was Emma and the life they had created by accident, the future for all of them and how David would react when he found out. It briefly crossed Killian's mind to flee; to just pack up Emma and leave Storybrooke forever. But he knew in his heart that Emma would never want to shut out her brother, so instead, he would have to fabricate a plan to get David to accept the fate before him.
Killian sighed, reaching across his expansive desk and plucking his cell phone from the shiny, wooden surface. Sliding his finger across the screen, Killian unlocked his phone and began to scroll through some photos. He was looking for one in particular, one of Emma, one he had taken of them just after an energetic love making session. A smile crept across his lips and he touched the cold glass screen delicately, recalling the morning the snap had been taken.
In the photo Emma was laughing, her eyes pinched closed with real, absolute joy and her hair tumbling over her shoulders. Killian was kissing her cheek, his own smile gracing his lips as it pressed to the softness of her slightly blushed flesh. They were in bed, the covers strewn messily around them, and Emma clutching it to her chest to cover her breasts. Killian's torso was on full display, one of his arms wrapped around Emma's middle, and with an outstretched arm, he had taken the photo, creating one of their first memories.
Swiping his thumb across the screen, another picture jumped onto the screen and Killian smiled harder. This one he had taken without Emma knowing, her tiny frame stretched out across the bed face down and barely covered by the thin, white sheet. Emma's hair was ruffled, a smile on her lips even as she slept across the entire width of the bed, her long, delicate fingers clutching at Killian's pillow. Killian suspected she was, in fact, awake and knew he was adding the photo to his collection, but she had never said anything. Selfless as usual.
Killian's phone vibrated in his hand, the caller ID indicating a call that set his entire body into a state of panic. It was David, so Killian immediately answered, pressing the phone to his ear and sitting bolt upright in his chair. “Dave?” he began tentatively. “Is it Emma?”
“Emma's fine,” David confirmed with a dull tone, flicking a look over to his slumbering sister. David had paced the room, finally settling on staring out into the bleak Storybrooke afternoon. “Listen,” he began. “Emma is allowed home, so I need your help,” David's words were almost forced, but he meant every word.
“Of course,” Killian shuffled in his chair, eager to hear David's request. “Anything.”
“I know you have a key to my mother's house,” David began, his tone still laced with fragments of his anger. He made sure Killian knew his distaste at him having a key to the one thing still keeping him connected to his mother. “Can you go and get Emma some clothes?”
“Absolutely,” Killian stood quickly, his eyes scanning his desk for his keys. Forgetting where he had put them for a second he took long, determined strides towards his jacket where it hung on the back of his office door. Killian plunged his hands into the pocket, his fingertips colliding into the sharp and pointy bunch. The key to the Swan-Nolan house was newly cut, so Killian distinguished it immediately from the others by its sharp edges and high lustre.
“And make the bed,” David ordered quickly when Emma began to stir at the sound of his voice.
“Aye, I can do that.” Killian pulled the door open and breezed through it, pulling it closed behind him and offering Mary Margaret a quick flash of a smile as he almost ran to the elevator. “Thanks for letting me help,” Killian said quickly, stepping into the metal box as it arrived, its doors sliding open with a silent invitation.
David scoffed into the phone. “Of course,” he said quickly, his tone softening just a little as Emma finally woke on the other side of the room. David hung up and slipped his cell into his pocket, moving to join Emma at the side of her bed again.
“Hey you,” he said smoothly, letting the weight of his body sink into the now familiar hospital chair. David had been sitting in it for so long, and so often, that he was sure it remembered the shape of his buttocks. “How are you feeling?”
“Sick,” Emma coughed a little, the bile rising in the back of her throat and causing her to sit up suddenly, ignoring the pain that shot through her entire being. Her muscles were weak, still aching and a little bit stingy, but she essentially felt better. Her muscles now only felt like she had the flu, so despite it still being a burden, it was an improvement.
David reached to the wheeled table beside her bed and grabbed a vomit bowl, handing it to Emma and helping her hold it under her chin as she spewed the off orange, foamy liquid into it. It stunk, burning at the back of Emma's throat as she expelled it from her mouth, coating her tongue with the bitterness she was now familiar with. David smoothed his hand down her back whilst she was sick, comforting his sister the only way he knew how.
“Want me to call a doctor?” he offered softly, dipping his head to try and catch Emma's eye.
“No, it's okay,” Emma's body shook a little when another mouthful spewed out of her.
“I can call someone to give you something,” David offered again, letting Emma squeeze his hand as she vomited.
“It's nothing,” she dismissed quickly, clutching her hand to her stomach as she heaved. Emma had wanted to keep this from David as long as she could, but his constant worrying only made her frustrated. It was only natural he would think something else was wrong with her, but in reality, the only thing wrong was her uncertain future.
Emma was sure it was morning sickness, but it could have also been anxiety. There were many reasons for her to be so anxious and the top of her trigger list was telling her brother about her pregnancy. Emma heaved again, her whole body tensing and a hacking cough escaping her throat. David moved to brush Emma's hair from her face and bunched it in a loose ponytail behind her head, holding it there and looking down at her sadly.
“Emma,” David scolded gently with a frown. “It might be something,” he began, letting go of the bowl when he was certain Emma could hold it herself and grabbing a nearby tissue. He plucked it from the box with a rough sliding sound and held it out for her.
“I'm pregnant,” Emma blurted weakly not looking at him, taking the tissue with a shaking hand and pressing it to her mouth as she fell backwards onto the plumped pillows with a sigh. “I'm pregnant,” she repeated a little louder, finally rolling her head to look at him sitting beside her, pale faced.
David couldn't speak. All of the colour left his face and his skin prickled. With everything else going on right now, this was the last thing Emma needed and he immediately felt gobsmacked by her words. David sat back, exhaling hard and placing one of his huge palms over his mouth, holding it tightly against his skin to stop any words coming out. Not that they would. David had no idea what to say.
“Say something,” Emma prompted, moving the newspaper grey sick bowl away from herself, putting it back to the top of the table and pushing the whole table away from her. For a second, Emma hated the parasite growing inside of her and wondered why anyone would want to have children considering the average bodies rejection methods.
“I-,” David finally said, his head shaking from side to side with pity. “Is it?” David knew the answer to his question before Emma even opened her mouth.
“Killian's? Yes,” Emma half chuckled at her brother's silly half-formed question. “I know that's not what you wanted to hear.” Emma reached out and offered him her flat palm. David took her hand, holding onto it and giving it a gentle squeeze. Whenever they were hurt, upset or otherwise feeling lost, they had always just held each other's hand and they could instantly reassure each other.
“Not really,” David agreed with a snort.
“I don't know what to do,” Emma admitted. Just like all of the times she had needed him before, David was here for her. Emma knew he wouldn't have been anywhere else, and he would always be there if she needed him. Through anything. When they had lost their father, he was there. When they had lost their mother, he was there. David was wise, much wiser than Emma could ever hope to be, and she valued his advice and yearned for his wisdom. More so now. She felt so lost right now, caught between her love for Killian and their child growing inside of her, and for David. “What should I do?”
David gave her a quick smile and sighed at his sister. He reached over, leaning his massive frame against the edge of the bed and clutching her hand to his chest. Bending his neck, David pressed his lips to her hand in his and cupped her face with his other hand. Emma's expression said everything; she was the strongest woman he had ever known, deterred by absolutely nothing and the rock in his life. And yet, right now, she was just a shell of the woman he knew and David silently cursed Killian for doing that to her.
“Do you love him?” David asked her, both of them knowing that he meant Killian. David didn't have to ask it, he could see it written in the smile on Emma's face. She did love Killian, which was the exact reason why she was so conflicted.
“With everything in my heart,” Emma breathed, the familiar spring of tears pricking at her eyes.
“Then why are you crying?” David brushed one of Emma's fallen tears from her face. “Love shouldn't make you cry.” He smiled weakly, tilting his head sympathetically.
“I don't know,” Emma sobbed, her breath hitching in her throat. “It's all happening so fast.” Emma's breath caught in her throat and her body hitched with another cry. “I don't know what I want. Killian. This baby. Or both,” she finished angrily.
“Does he know?” David prodded gently, letting his hand fall from her face where it rested on her knee. David smoothed his thumb over the hospital blanket, warming her skin beneath.
Emma nodded slowly. “A nurse told him by accident.” She let out a nervous laugh and rolled her eyes at the incompetence of her colleagues. “They thought he knew.”
David contemplated her words, darting his tongue out to lick his lips. Killian had known and kept it from him. David kind of understood his logic though; David would have killed him. Was he just supposed to call him and tell him he had knocked up his sister? If the tables were turned, David probably wouldn’t have told Killian either, and he didn't particularly care for Killian's feelings right now, but because Emma did, he forced himself to ask his next question. “Does he want to keep it?”
Emma shrugged. “He said he wants what I want,” she began, her body feeling suddenly heavy against the pillows. “But I don’t know what I want, only what I wanted.”
“Which was?” David prompted softly.
Emma shrugged and a smile tugged at her lips in memory. “A bit of fun. Something to take my mind off of mom, and now I’ve got a permanent distraction.”
“You could say that,” David smiled warmly.
“And I don’t want to hurt Killian, so you see my dilemma,” Emma sighed.
Emma didn't know what she wanted. She had been sure she could be a mother, stay in Storybrooke and raise a family with Killian. She had everything here. David, a house, a job if she wanted to stay forever. However, she had also had several days alone in a hospital room to think about things. She was young and didn't feel like she could do it. Having a child was such a big commitment and Emma had never once thought about children, especially with Killian. She wasn't blind to the fact that accidents could happen, but the guilt of forcing it upon a partner she had only just met was not fair to both of them.
“You need to be more selfish.” David nodded towards her, pointing at her. “Stop putting everyone else first,” he said sternly. “You have spent your entire life being that person, Emma.”
“I know, but Killian-,” she began and David's inner rage towards his business partner finally got the better of him.
“What?” he snapped. “What about Killian? Do you ever think about yourself? You’re contemplating having a baby just to make someone else happy?” David's words came out a little more harsh than he had intended, but he and Emma had an understanding. A secret sibling code. They could say whatever they wanted to each other, be as honest and as brutal as they could be, and at the end of it all, they would still be there for each other. When they were kids it was that exact behaviour that led people to believe they were twins, despite the age gap.
Emma knew David was right. It didn't help that he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Emma wanted a baby and she wasn’t sure she could consider termination, but she wasn't sure she could live with the dread of living a life with Killian and him slowly coming to resent her over time. “A baby would make me happy,” she stated honestly, dodging David's mention of Killian.
“So have a baby.” David shrugged. “But don't run off and get married because you think it's what someone else would do,” he paused. “Or want.” David had known Killian a long time and he was sure that as much as he wanted to believe he would be there for his sister, he couldn't promise Emma that he knew Killian would be. How well somebody knew someone was always tested in situations like this. David's mind ticked over with possible scenario suggestions for his sister, and all of them ended with him having to keep a secret from his friend.
“This would be so much easier if Killian didn't know,” Emma twisted her lips sideways, her words signalling her frustration.
“So tell him there isn’t a baby anymore,” David suggested. Emma stared at him. His words were harsh, but what if she could? “Tell him you’ve miscarried. A complication or something. I'm sure there is some doctor speak you could baffle him with.”
“Maybe I should just run away,” Emma suggested in jest, her words echoing David's every thought. He snapped his head up to meet her gaze and Emma looked at him questioningly. “What?” She asked, a little worried, wiping her mouth quickly in case she had something offending stuck to her face from her earlier vomiting.
“Maybe you should,” David offered coldly. “I mean, maybe you should go home, leave all this behind.”
Emma's mind ticked over at his words. The words that she had been thinking but had been afraid to even suggest to herself, let alone anyone else. What would happen if she did just disappear? Would Killian try and find her? Of course, he would. Emma knew that much.
“I can't do that,” Emma shook her head. “It's not right.”
David knew she was right. He imagined for a second that he was in Killian's shoes and had fallen in love, a whirlwind romance filled with lust and passion that had finally come to the conclusion they were facing now. He knew he would never stop fighting for a child he knew he now had, so how could he expect Killian to just forget about the same thing? “So don't tell him,” David suggested.
Emma considered his words. “You mean just leave?”
David shrugged. “Or leave a note. Do what you have to to make yourself happy,” he smiled weakly. “I miss you happy, Emma. This isn't my baby sister.”
Emma knew David was right. Everything had come all at once. Her mother had died and she had found solace in a wonderful man, but was it enough? How long could she pretend that it was? Emma was sure she loved Killian but she didn’t really know him, and they had rushed into things. A pang of doubt crept into her suddenly. How can somebody be so conflicted? How could somebody feel so happy and yet so hollow?
“He'll try to find me,” Emma told David, her words the only thing she had been sure of all day.
David nodded. “He will. I can only keep him at work for so long before he will just walk out and go searching the country for you.”
They both laughed, realising they knew Killian as well as each other in that exact moment. David stood up and smoothed his hand over the back of Emma's head, planting his lips to the top of it with a kiss. He didn't have to say anything, his silent promise to always be there for her had always been the same wordless action. It gave Emma strength, a lot of which she needed right now.
“He would you know,” David confirmed, grabbing one of the disposable cups stacked near Emma's bed and pouring some water into it. The cup was small and the water crashed into the bottom, threatening to jump from its clear, plastic confines and spill out. David offered it to Emma who took it thankfully, taking a sip to moisten her throat. “You'd have to threaten him.”
“I can't believe I’m considering this,” Emma took another sip and passed the cup back to him. Her throat felt better now having healed enough that the doctors had said she could go home. That in itself posed a new set of challenges and Emma was sure that David and Killian would be constantly at her side, fighting for her affections like a couple of jealous teenage boys. It would give her time to consider things if nothing else.
“I'll deny ever having this conversation,” David told her, settling back into the seat and interlocking his fingers on his lap. “I know you'll make the right decision, Emma. For yourself, no one else,” David emphasised his words. “I'll support you either way.” He smiled.
“Thanks.” Emma smiled back, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. She was getting sick and tired of staring at the same walls day in and day out. Sick of smelling the chemicals used to routinely clean the whole place, something she had never really noticed as a doctor. “I can't wait to get out of here,” she almost sang, a happiness filling her words that she hadn't been able to find for a few days.
“I sent Killian to get you some things,” David smirked a little, looking away from her furrowed brow. “So he felt useful.” He shrugged.
“You have to forgive him,” Emma told her brother, watching as his jaw twitched. “Stuff happens, Dave. This wasn't his fault.” Emma shook her head and offered her hand to him once more. “He respects you so much,” she told him matter of factly, gripping onto his fingers tightly.
“He defiled my sister.” David laughed at his own words and Emma joined him, her chuckle a little too enthusiastic and turning into a cough. David reached for the water again but Emma waved him off, red-faced and short of breath.
“Oh grow up,” Emma coughed out, covering her mouth with a flat palm. “Your sister is a grown ass woman who can fuck whoever she pleases.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and he cringed, poking his fingers into his ears and pinching his eyes closed just like they used to when they were kids.
“La La La I'm not listening!” David sang out, looking away from her, trying to not imagine his sister ever having sex.
Emma laughed again, and just as she did a soft knock at the door caught both of their attention. They looked towards the white fireproof door as it was pushed open slowly and Killian poked his head around the frame. David met his eyes briefly before looking away and back to Emma, distracting himself with nothing. Emma caught his gaze and smiled, inviting him in with a nudge of her head.
“I got you a change of clothes to go home in,” Killian said smiling, stepping around the door and letting it close behind him. The pile of neatly folded clothes in his hands where exactly what Emma needed; grey tracksuit bottoms and lounge shirt, complete with a matching oversized hoodie. Maybe Killian did know her better than she knew herself.
“Thank you.” Emma smiled sweetly, encouraging him closer to the bed with a wave of her hand. “Dave was just going to get a coffee,” she announced, suggesting to her brother that he should make himself scarce.
“I was,” David confirmed, standing to his feet and smoothing his hands over the front of his jeans. “Do you want anything?” David ignored Killian and directed his question towards Emma who shook her head gently. “Killian?” David almost bit his tongue in half saying his name, but Emma was right, he had to start Killian's redemption somewhere.
Killian looked up to David, his flushed cheeks cooling suddenly and a wash of relief flowing over him. “I'm alright, mate, thanks.” He smiled a tight-lipped smile as they passed each other at the foot of the bed. Emma rolled her eyes at David, seeing the awkwardness in both of their reactions as he left the room.
Killian watched David go before moving across the room to kiss Emma quickly. He let his lips linger on hers but it was chaste and sweet, relieving for them both. “Hey,” he breathed, smiling down at her and resting their foreheads together.
“Hey,” Emma mirrored his words, resting a flat palm to his cheek. Killian's skin was warm beneath hers and all of her hairs stood on end. She was so ready to get out of this place and be back in her own, comfortable bed.
“Killian, I-,”
“Emma-,”
They both started to speak at the same time, their gazes averted. Emma wanted nothing more than to tell Killian there was no baby. If she said the words out loud now, before she lost her courage for them later on, she could gauge his reaction. If he stayed, she would know he wasn't just sticking around out of duty. If he decided to leave, she would know the same thing, but she froze, unable to form the words in her throat.
Killian looked up at her expectantly, awaiting her words that never came. Silently they stared, lost in each other's eyes. Emma's were like staring in a starlit galaxy, glittering with flecks of darkness scattered between the green hue of her iris. Killian's were like the ocean, deep and shadowy, but shining with the reflection of the stars. Killian wanted to tell her so many things but he had never been good with words, his actions normally enough to get him by. His lips twitched up into a small, weak smile and he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You ready, love?” Killian asked, helping her pull the blanket back and slipping the jogging pants over her tiny feet. Emma's skin was still so pale and the faintest musk wafted from the blanket when he pulled it back. Killian would make sure Emma was cleaned and taken care of when they got back to her place.
Emma nodded earnestly. “Take me home.”
--
Emma had been home for a week. Her stay in the hospital had been awful. Between constantly worrying about herself and her patients, she was a mess. Doctors did indeed make the worst patients, but now that she was back in her mother's house, the familiar scent of lavender and rose soap wafting through the air, Emma felt safe. The house was becoming her home, but in the back of her mind, Emma couldn't help but feel she didn't belong in Storybrooke any more.
Emma had left many years ago, going away to college and never returning. She hadn't missed it; in fact, the constant wet weather and need for multiple layers had been the thing she least missed about Storybrooke. Emma was a country girl at heart, yearning for the rolling green hills of some outback state more and more as she had grown up. When she had fled, moved out of state with her modest belongings and medical license in tow, Emma had never imagined the one thing that would bring her back would be family. Emma also never imagined the one thing keeping her here would turn out to be the same thing.
Killian had been unexpected. He had come into her life at exactly the right time for the wrong reasons. He was a little bit of fun she indulged in whilst she was down, fuelled by the emptiness she felt inside at the loss of her mother. Emma had never expected to feel the way she did about him, never expected to forget to take the morning after pill, and never expected to have to be in the dilemma she was in now. Stay or go? Killian was too perfect; well paid, good looking, fantastic in bed and any other stereotype you could throw in there. But he was now obligated to stick around because of the life they had created by accident, and Emma didn't want him to end up hating her.
For the entire week, Killian had busied himself every day after work helping to do her chores, cooking her meals and generally doting on her hand and foot. Emma wasn't sure if it was because he felt obligated or if he really wanted to be there. David had helped too, the two men taking it in turns to be at her side without ever really seeing the other. She loved them both. David was her brother and had always looked out for her, but she was still mad at him for attacking Killian. Killian, her whirlwind romance and father on her unborn child, was annoying her with his constant fussing. There was no escape.
Storybrooke was still raining, but there was no chill in the air today. Emma had little else to do but watch the weather and so sitting in her mother's old rickety arm chair had become her latest hobby. It was as old as the house and Emma couldn’t remember a time when her mother hadn't sat in the pale, high backed, worn wicker chair, and stared longingly out the window. Emma had often suspected that that was her mother's way of dealing with loss, her way of passing the time she knew would never be filled with her husband's laughter again. For a second, Emma wondered if she hadn't just sat in this chair mourning, things would be different.
The old tree outside of the house swayed gently in the warm breeze and the rustle of the leaves caught Emma's attention, shaking her from her daydream. A thin smile played across her features as she pushed herself to her feet, moving to the window and resting her elbow to the white wooden sill. It had seen better days; the paint was peeling, big chips missing here and there from the yellowing paintwork. Emma remembered a time when she and David visited one summer and helped their mother spruce up the house by painting doors, ceilings and window sills. With a saddened pang in her heart, Emma regretted that that was probably the last time all three of them had spent time together before her mother's death.
Emma rested her chin on her clenched palm and watched the sky turn grey, the clouds above the house full of the equally grey raindrops that soon turned into heavy blots on the pavement outside. The rain on the leaves of the tree made pattering sounds each time it hit one of the waxy green leaves, instantly rolling from the leaf and falling unheard to the ground below. No one was around, instead staying indoors to avoid the incoming storm. Emma loved to watch a storm, she always had. Usually, David would be at her side, his larger frame there and easily grabbed when the roll of thunder and flash of lightning made her jump.
“A storm is coming,” Killian said gently from behind her. Emma hadn't heard him enter the room but she had felt him behind her, his likeable scent wafting through the door before he had crossed the threshold.
“Looks like it,” Emma agreed, not taking her eyes from the weather outside as it changed. A low distant rumble caught her attention and she splayed a protective hand over her unchanged stomach. Killian was now the storm in Emma's life, rolling in with the power of thunder, leaving its mark like a lightning strike and creating new life in its wake.
Unforgettable storms always had a name and hers was Killian.
“How are you doing today?” Killian prodded gently, aware that he was eating away at the thin threads of Emma's nerves. She had been housebound, relying on just him and David to look after her and he might have been a little obsessively overprotective. “Can I get anything for you?”
Emma still watched out of the window, her gaze following a line of rain down the old, single glazed window pane as she pushed herself to her feet. A small patch of condensation had begun to form in the corner, signalling the temperature drop outside and Emma reached out a single digit and traced a lighting shape through the moisture. “Watch the storm with me?” Emma asked him gently, finally turning to look at him with a weak smile.
Killian returned her smile and let the duvet he was fluffing fall back down onto the bed. He smoothed over the corners, pressing out the creases that had formed from his grip on the fabric cover. Killian padded across the room, the sound of his footsteps absorbed totally by the carpet beneath his feet. When he reached Emma, Killian smoothed his hands over her shoulders, pressing the warmth of his body into her back and placing a kiss to the top of her head. Killian hummed contently, unable to hide his pleasure at her scent, and his hands soon enveloped her tiny frame in his grasp. “It's going to be a big one,” he noted, dipping his head slightly to see the sky outside.
“I hope so.” Emma smiled and leaned back into his body. Even though they were not facing each other, Emma couldn't help but smell Killian's manly scent and now that her lungs were stronger and she could, she inhaled deeply. “God, you smell good.”
Killian arched an eyebrow and frowned a little. “I do?”
Emma nodded. “Inhaling hasn't been my strong point lately.” She pressed his hand to her chest, the reminder of her pneumonia still evident due to a small, chesty rattle when she breathed too deeply. “I missed it.” She beamed honestly.
Killian wrapped his arms around her more tightly and was unable to stop himself kissing her cheek. “It's not going anywhere.” Killian smiled and Emma felt a tug at her heart.
“I miss home,” she blurted suddenly, fixing her gaze onto the rain as it pounded the glass. The darkened sky seemed to never end, charcoal clouds rolling with the breeze and casting the earth below in a blue grey haze. Emma's hand found Killian's and she interlaced their fingers. “Storybrooke is so-”
“Depressing?” Killian offered, following her steady gaze to the brewing storm outside. He heard the very subtle rumble of thunder edging nearer to the house.
“Lifeless,” Emma droned melancholic. Killian moved to stand in front of her, smoothing his hands down her arms.
“Emma, are you alright? You seem-,” he began, not really knowing where to go with his words. Emma had been distant since she had woken up. He wasn't sure if it was something to do with the baby or something he had done, but he knew it was something.
Emma finally turned her head to look at him, her eyes glinting in a flash of lightning outside. “I told David,” she said quietly.
“Oh.” Killian took her hand in his and balled them together. He would be lying if he said he wasn't scared of her brother. After all, David was much bigger than he was and as Killian could confirm, he hit much harder. “What did he say?” he asked tentatively.
Emma shrugged, remembering David's words to her but not wanting to disclose a single word of it. David had been right, Emma needed to be more selfish. And she didn't want to talk about it right now. Right now, she wanted to feel something other than sadness. “Killian?” Emma ignored his question and he looked at her questioningly, tilting his head to the side and smoothing his hands up her arms. “Will you do something for me?”
“Anything.” Killian returned her smile with a nod. His fingers traced lazy lines up and down her arms and her skin tingled beneath the fabric of her sweater.
Emma looked up to him and offered him a smile. “Sleep with me,” she demanded softly.
Killian's breathed hitched in his throat every time Emma looked at him the way she was right now. He knew Emma didn't mean snooze or cuddle. Killian flushed hot, his hands frozen to Emma's shoulders and his heart pounding in his chest. “Emma, I’m not sure-,”
“Please, Killian.” Emma stepped into his space, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his shirt. She inhaled again, the deep, tang of his aftershave burning the back of her throat. Her fingers bunched the fabric of his shirt as she balled her fists and finally lifted her head to meet his darkened gaze. “I just want to feel something.”
Killian's heart split in two. Emma was still broken. She had healed on the outside, but inside she was torn about something he didn't know and wouldn't ask. They had moved so quickly in their relationship, losing themselves in each other over and over again that Killian was at his own conflict. He wanted nothing more than to lay Emma down and make love to her as the storm raged outside, but what would it solve?
“Emma, we-,” Killian began solemnly, but his words were cut short when Emma pulled on his shirt and crushed their lips together. They ignored a flash of lightning, and the rumble of the house when thunder roared above them. Killian's lips parted a little and Emma's tongue slipped into his mouth, swishing over the ridges of his teeth and tasting him eagerly. Killian's hands moved to cup Emma's face, holding it in place whilst he teased her tongue with his, pouring every ounce of his love into the silent action.
“Shut up, Killian,” Emma mumbled against his lips, only parting from his long enough to catch her breath. Her body arched into his, her nipples hardening under her sweater and brushing against his chest. Killian sucked in a breath. “Just kiss me.”
With a hasty gulp, Killian seized her lips once more, pushing against them so hard he thought he might bruise them. A soft moan escaped Emma's mouth between thrusts of her tongue, teeth clashing together with want and desire. Killian slid his hands to Emma's hips, digging his fingers into the soft flesh that peeked out from beneath her sweater when she looped her arms around his neck. He held her to him, deepening the kiss further still and a flash of white appearing behind his closed eyelids.
Emma tugged on the back of his head, clawing at the length of his hair. She arched her feet, rising up onto tiptoes and pleading into Killian's mouth on each kiss. Killian pulled his lips from hers, his heavy pants warming her face because he was so close. He stroked a thumb pad over her cheek, dragging his digit over her skin and placing a feathery touch to her chin as he searched her eyes. Emma's green orbs were a dark, leafy colour and she didn't have to say anything for Killian to be able to see the arousal behind them.
In a quick move that took her slightly by surprise, Killian cupped her behind and lifted her from the floor. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively and she felt the pool of heat between her legs press up against his hardening member as she pulled his lips back to hers. The kiss was now more urgent, feverish and audible pants heard between smacking of lips and the sliding of tongues. Killian's hands gripped into the flesh of her behind, pulling her against his groin roughly and his lips twitching into a smirk when he felt her grind against him in response.
“Please, Killian, I need you,” Emma begged and Killian spun them around so that he was facing the bed. He growled low in his throat but it was almost lost in another thunderous rumble from the storm. Emma let her hands brush over Killian's shoulders, finding the buttons on his shirt and pushing each circular disc through its corresponding hole, one at a time, deftly undressing him. Before they reached the bed, Killian's shirt had been pushed over his shoulders and shaken from his arms, pooling into a heap behind them on the floor.
“I’m right here, love,” Killian whispered huskily between kisses. The bed dipped under their weight when he pressed a knee to it to steady himself, tattooed biceps bulging as he lowered her to the freshly made bed. Emma clutched at the back of his head, reluctant to let his lips leave hers for even a second, and his hands tugged roughly at the hem of her sweater. It was pulled off with ease, Emma’s bra soon following and her nipples hardening immediately. “I’m right here,” Killian repeated lovingly, sliding down her body just enough so he could capture a pebbled nipple between his lips.
Emma’s body reacted instantly, her back arching off the bed as it screamed for his attention. She looked down, the sight of her half naked body assaulted by his hands and his tongue too much to contain her arousal. Emma moaned, loud and satisfied, her entire body shaking with anticipation as Killian hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and gave them a gentle tug. She had lost weight, easily noticeable when her still buttoned jeans slipped down over her bony hips with little resistance and Killian eased himself up to pull them off completely.
He gave her a soft smile, his tongue darting out to worry his bottom lip as he unbuttoned his own jeans and felt instant relief when his erection sprang free. His nipples pulled into tight peaks under the thatch of chest hair, the blue lines of his tattoo rippling under the flex of his muscles as he took himself in hand and gave himself a few good, slow strokes. Killian pushed his jeans down over his buttocks, leaving them halfway down his legs as he crawled back over her, enclosing Emma in his hold.
“You’re so bloody gorgeous,” Killian said softly, pressing a kiss to each of her eyelids as they fluttered closed. “And we can stop-”
“Hurry,” Emma whimpered, grinding her hips upward until her bare sex brushed against the tip of his erection between them.
Killian gasped at the contact, the soft length of her hair there tickling his sensitive tip. He was painfully aroused, the skin on his length pulled as tight as it ever had been, the head of him weeping and smearing pre cum over Emma’s inviting sex. He wanted to take his time, worship her and make her feel everything she begged for, but Emma had other ideas, reaching down between them and lining him up with her entrance.
“There,” she whispered on a sigh, scooting herself down until Killian’s tip slipped inside of her. There was a pause from them both, the stretch and burn of him making her freeze and stiffen beneath him. “More,” she begged, clutching the sides of his face until they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Give me more.”
With one swift thrust of his hips, Killian buried himself inside of her to the hilt, his resolve loosening as he fought back a premature finish. It was like Emma wanted to use his body, grinding her clit against him for friction, and he wouldn’t say no to her if that was what she needed to feel, but he still wanted to show her how much he really did love her. Their love had come on quickly but Emma still had an unnerving look in her eye when he said the words out loud, like she was in conflict, or she would run at any moment. Killian just wanted to guide her right, show her how dear she was to him with more than just words.
He pulled out of her slowly, the torturous drag of his length against her inner walls making her quiver before he pushed himself back inside with a deliberate roll of his hips. She whimpered, nodding her approval as she bit down on her bottom lip, fingernails scraping down the entire length of his torso in appreciation. Killian’s skin itched, his toes curling in his socks as her fingers burned lines into his chest, leaving scratch marks in her wake and making his chest hair stand to attention under her assault.
“I’m going to make you feel,” he rasped.
“Yes,” Emma whispered in agreement, her arms circling around his torso and sliding to the curve of his behind.
Killian rolled his hips again, slowly, feeling every ridge inside of her as he withdrew. A soft groan escaped her mouth at the loss but before she had time to object, Killian was filling her up once more with a forceful canter of his hips that had her crying out in time with a crack of thunder. Emma’s fingernails almost pierced his skin, tearing at the flesh of his behind, pulling him impossibly deeper inside of her. Her legs spread wider with each of his well timed thrust, her own hips meeting his and his body rubbing deliciously at her clit.
Emma whimpered, a thin sheen of sweat covering her entire body and trapping a layer of insulating moisture between them. Killian’s hand found her face, his middle finger skimming at tendrils of blonde from her brow and tucking it behind her ear whilst his thumb traced the outline of her lips. His mouth followed, sucking hungrily at her bottom lip as she met his kiss with equal ferocity, a greedy longing behind her actions that made him even harder inside of her.
“Fuck,” Killian gasped, tearing his lips from hers to shoot a glance down at where they were joined. Emma’s hips were meeting his, grinding her clit against his body, desperate to reach the other side of the storm.
“Make me come, Killian,” Emma rasped salaciously. “I’m almost there.”
Killian crawled higher on the bed, falling deeper into her and changing the angle of his hips. Emma screamed out, but not in pain, every nerve ending in her body igniting at the same time. Her eyes rolled back behind her eyelids, her body limp, a slave to Killian’s pistoning hips as he strained every muscle he had to give her what she sought.
Emma came in a blinding shower of light, her lungs expelling all of the air she had left inside of her and her nails digging into Killian’s shoulders. He carried on, riding her through it, loving the way her muscles pulled at his length that had yet to spill his own orgasm into her. Emma went rigid beneath him but he carried on, sitting back on his heels and slowing his pace, tentatively dipping himself inside of her, teasing her already sensitive g spot even more. She twitched, sucking in a lungful of air before she smirked and her legs went limp by his thighs and collapsed still on the bed.
The storm had passed over them, the skies outside turning to a lighter shade of grey as the angry, black clouds floated miles away. Emma was roused from her post-orgasmic haze by Killian’s fingertips brushing up and down her thighs, first on the outside and then skimming to caress the inside too. Her eyes fluttered open when he pulled himself from inside her, ignoring the rage inside of his groin as it protested the loss of her warmth, his hand a poor substitute. He knelt between her legs and watched her with a content smile, her euphoria still evident all over her features.
“You didn’t-,” Emma began, her hand idling on one of her breasts, lazily drawing circles around her still hard nipples.
“I’m alright,” Killian assured her with a smile, still stroking his erection in one hand. “This was about you.”
“Are you sure?” Emma smirked, wiggling her hips. “The damage is already done.”
It was a poor joke, even Emma had to admit that, and the thought of her future sobered her immediately. Killian didn’t laugh, licking his lips nervously and diverting his gaze to the duvet between them. His hands moved to his own thighs, sliding inside the waistband and pushing the denim down. Divesting himself of his jeans, Killian scrambled up the bed again, positioning himself next to Emma and shimming under the now wrinkled comforter.
“Another time, love,” Killian smiled weakly, reaching out to brush another strand of hair from her face.
“Are you okay?” Emma moved closer to him, needing to feel the warmth from his body.
The rain had stopped now, but the chill of the weather seeped in through the glass and made her shiver. Instinctively, Killian pulled her closer, not stopping until their naked bodies were pressed together and then they were cuddled up closer under the duvet. He gave her a smile, his lips twitching up at the corners and his stubble rubbing against the pillow.
“Never better,” Killian assured her sweetly. “This was about one of us needing something that only the other could give.”
Guilt hit Emma like a freight train. Here was a man, so invested in what she wanted that he has forgone his own pleasure to give her what she wanted, and all she could think about was how to soften the blow.
“Killian?” Emma whispered softly, tucking her hands against her chest as he pushed his legs between hers for even more contact.
“Aye, love?” Killian answered through his yawn.
“You look tired,” Emma noted. She reached out, pushing his floppy hair back from his brow, watching his eyes flutter closed at the feel of her fingers along his scalp. “I’ve exhausted you.”
“And it’s not all the sex either.” Killian smirked, eyes still closed.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said softly. She reached for his hand, covering it with both of hers and pulling it to rest between her bosom. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with so much.”
“It’s all been worth it to hold you again,” Killian whispered, his words a little slurred from his impending slumber.
“And I’m sorry about Dave.” Emma pulled his hand tighter to her body when she felt his grip on her own loosen, the limb feeling heavy in her hands. “He doesn’t know how to articulate with anything but his fists.” Emma reached up between them and skimmed her fingertips over the purpling bruise David had left on Killian’s face.
“I’m not going to lie,” Killian began, nudging his face harder into the softness of the pillows. “Dodging your brother is exhausting.” His boyish smile drifted from his face as quickly as it appeared, sleep well and truly taking him over in no time. “But he’s right,” Killian mumbled, half asleep. “Dave’s always right.”
“Yeah, he is,” Emma whispered back.
“Mmm, love?” Killian mumbled incoherently, fighting his eyelids to stay open.
Emma watched his eyelids stay closed for the final time, a long breath leaving his body as he exhaled and moulded into the mattress. He was tired, Emma could see that the closer she inspected his features. His skin was fatigued, especially around his eyes that, in certain lights, looked like he was wearing eyeliner, and Emma knew she was to blame. She was sure that if anyone looked up the definition of stress in the dictionary, there would be a photo of her heavily pregnant in a hospital bed whilst an angry David looked on.
“Sleep,” she said softly, stroking her fingers down his chest and pausing with her hand above his slow beating heart. “I’ll always be right here.” Emma watched her fingers intently, the gentle beat of Killian’s heart tapping at her fingertips in a rhythm she would never forget.
She sighed, a soft resignation of the choice laid out in front of her.