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accio-ambition · 6 years

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No Good Deed (8/15)

Summary: Killian Jones is a gentleman. He and his brother pride themselves on the matter, even if it ends with harm to them. So when an angry ex of Killian’s client bites him, he tends to the wound, watches it heal, and thinks no more of it.Until he wakes up in a closet on his ship with no memory of what happened the night of the full moon.

Fleeing from the unknown, the brothers Jones find Storybrooke, and with it, Emma Swan, who is a lot more familiar with their situation than anyone could expect. And when an old foe comes to their new home, Killian has to rely on new talents to keep those he loves safe.

Rating: M for language, violence, some sexual content. (better safe than sorry)

Content warnings: violence

I'm not going to say that I'm completely happy with how this chapter ended up in its entirety, but there are parts in here that I really like and am really proud of. :) As always, thank you to @killiarious, @wellhellotragic, and @captainswanbigbang for all the work they did to get this project off the floor and into the interwebs.

Ao3

Chapter Eight

Honestly, Liam has been a saint through this whole experience. Living with him was one thing, but with the addition of Swan into their household - his superior, no less - Killian thought that the transition would’ve gone a lot worse. He knows his brother, knows that Liam likes to run a tight and clean ship and as someone who was raised in such a manner, Killian never really had any trouble with that.

But Emma was the wildcard. And though she’s managed to fit herself seamlessly into their lives, the whole pack mentality thing really does make it easier for him and much more trouble for Liam.

His brother is learning to live with the two of them always off on their own wolf adventure. Killian’s half sure he thinks of them as advanced guard dogs, always asking them to go out and check noises when he was the one to do so before. It’s humorous to say the least, if not a little annoying.

Killian and Emma get him back easily and often, saying they smell something burning when they know it’s not or pretending not to hear something that’s so loud, the neighbors can hear it. And it’s all fun and games, a way to lightening up tense atmospheres or stay away from heavier topics all meant in good humor

But Liam really hates the whole telepathy bond thing.

“So what you’re telling me,” he parses out, his mind barely keeping up with the words coming out of his mouth, “is that, not only do you run around the woods together and can speak, but you can do it like this too?”

“Yep,” Emma says, goofy smile across her face. She knows how much it annoys him, can tell by the furrow in his brows and the hint of graying hair at his temple. Killian doesn’t think it was there when this whole wolf ordeal started, or even before Emma moved in. It’s aged them all, but none worse than Liam.

Glancing over at her, Killian sees her wink at him. He shakes his head incredulously, chuckling and looking away.

“You guys are talking about me in the other’s head, aren’t you?” Liam asks.

“Don’t worry, brother,” Killian reassures him, his arm sneaking around the back of Emma’s chair. “We’re just communicating nonverbally. We’re not in each other’s heads right now.”

Emma agrees. “Yeah, I can just read what Killian thinks of your stupidity in his eyes alone.” She breaks into raucous laughter as Liam stands up so forcefully that his chair falls back and Killian rests his head on the edge of the table.

“No, Liam, I’m joking!” she shouts, trying to catch him as he storms off into the kitchen with his dishes. “It’s only really around just before and just after the transformation. The rest of the time, we can only communicate verbally and through looks just like everyone else.”

Slowly, Liam reappears in the kitchen entryway. “Well, ain't that a fucking relief.”

Killian thinks it’s fair that his brother detest his and Swan’s new way of communication, but he sees it as pay back. In the time before Swan, when Elsa joined them more often than not, they had a similar nonverbal type of talking and making comments about, well, usually him. He’d never really understood it. Now, though, it makes sense.

There's a timid knock on his bedroom door a couple nights later, almost too quiet for him to hear in the first place.

"Come in," he bids just as softly, marking his page and setting his book down next to him on the bed. A moment passes where the door doesn't open, and Killian thinks that perhaps he misheard. It wasn't a knock on the door, but the floor groaning as either of his housemates visited the restroom.

But then the door creaks open, slowly revealing Emma. Her hair falls in front of her face, forcing her to brush it back as she sneaks between the door and the jamb before shutting it once more.

"Swan," he sits up in bed, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

She shrugs, coming up to the other side of his bed and taking a seat. She looks a lot more innocent, more at risk for being hurt in her pajamas. They're mismatched: her top is more suited for winter, very similar to some of the flannel shirts in his own closet, but her shorts have little balloons on them and show off an illegal amount of leg in his opinion.

"I couldn't sleep," she grumbles, pulling her legs up until she can rest her chin on her knees. She likes to curl up, he's noticed. Not just when she's in wolf form, but as a human as well. It's almost like she's trying to hide herself in plain sight, makes herself as small as possible to avoid whatever life might throw at her.

There’s a sense of need in their bond. It’s weak, hidden behind fatigued and confusion and concern, but it comes off to Killian as a desire for warmth, familiarity, comfort.

He’s at her beck and call, unable to let Swan think a single negative thought or emotion.

He’s very good at sticking his foot in his mouth.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" He asks in jest, but then she begins to nod and he can't leave her hanging like that. With a sigh, Killian moves his book to the bedside table. "What would you like to hear about?"

"I don't know." After fluffing the pillow, Emma lays down and curls up facing him. "You could read that book aloud," she suggests.

His brows furrow for a moment before one arches. "Were you listening to me from your room?" he inquires. She nods. "For how long?"

She shrugs noncommittally. "I like listening to you before I go to bed sometimes," she admits.

"Sometimes?"

A blush rushes to her cheeks as she moans and hides her face in the pillow. "Most nights, don't be an ass about it," she says, or something close to that. Her exact words are muffled by the fabric. "It's calming."

"What's calming, love?"

"Your voice." Peeking from her pillow hideout, Emma groans again at his smug expression.

“You could hear me through the walls?”

Shaking her head, Emma hides her face once more. “No,” comes the mumble between the fluff, “through the bond.” He’s confused, to say the least, but his face must express some unknown emotion because Emma stands up in a huff. "Look, I came here because I thought we were friends, that we were past this level and I just wanted to see what it was like in real life."

"Don't leave." He really loves having her around, loves having her near him regardless of his form because, just as his voice appears to calm her, her presence makes him feel whole. She's halfway between the bed and the door when she glances over her shoulder. Killian beckons her back with a wiggle of his fingers and a crick of his neck. “I was just confused because it’s not the full moon.”

“I thought the same thing.”

“But you came all this way,” he says. “It would be ungentlemanly of me to deny such a kind request.”

Emma scoffs, but slowly makes comes back to the open side of the bed. “All this way?” she asks, getting under the blankets. “You mean down the hall?”

He shrugs. Raising his arm, Killian invites her to scoot closer. She does with little hesitation, pillowing her head on his shoulder. “I know you, Swan,” he tells her in hushed tones. “You aren’t one to openly ask for help-“

“I’m not asking you for help,” she protests, jabbing him in the chest.

With an oof, Killian chuckles. he wraps his hand around her finger pulls it to his lips. “You didn’t let me finish.” He watches a hint of blush spread across the one cheek he can see as he sets her hand down. “I believe myself to be one of the only people who can read you like an open book. You’re a bit closed off sometimes. And that’s is fine,” he quickly adds, feeling her chest inflate. Brushing her shoulder in an action meant to comfort, Killian presses his nose to her hair. “It’s who you are. But you don’t have to be so stoic around people who care about you.”

“Like?” Her voice is soft and confused, but he can feel the nerves in her end of the bond fall away.

“Ruby and Elsa, your other friends. Liam,” he easily lists off. Then he nudges her. “Me. Especially me.”

She giggles into this chest. “That’s only cause you know what I’m thinking.”

“And feeling,” he reminds her. “Don’t lie, I felt the need for comfort when you came in here. You were timid to ask.” His hand finds the tip of her chin and gently pushes it up. Emma looks up at him, her green eyes hazy but aware. “Don’t be.”

She shrugs, looking away. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Agreed. But that doesn’t mean we can try harder to kill them.”

Sitting up, Emma looks at him, letting a breeze enter through the new opening in the blanket. “What are you talking about?” she asks.

“A bit of an experiment,” he suggests, sitting up himself. “You’ve got to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“But you know what I’m thinking, and feeling,” she reminds him, poking him on the forehead. “Remember what you just said?”

“Mhm.” He rests his thumb in the cleft of her chin and softly adds, “But I want you to tell me. Open up a little bit.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You’ve just got to…” He licks his lips, chuckling at the idea of him without words. Killian shrugs and shakes his head. “Open up.”

Laughing outright, Emma nods her head. “Yeah, that’s very straightforward,” she scoffs.

“Okay, what do you like about me reading?” It’s a different tactic then what he originally was going to go with, but since this maddening woman has somehow managed to render him speechless, Killian rolls with the punches.

“What?”

Now he scoffs. “Emma, I know you’ve got better than average hearing,” he reasons with her before asking again. “What do you like about me reading?”

“I told you, it’s calming.”

“What about it calms you?”

“I don’t know,” she says. The tone of her voice is growing clipped, and he knows she’s got very little patient left to entertain him. “There’s something in your voice.”

“Yeah?” he goads her.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she snaps, whipping the blanket up her body. “Something about it makes me feel…” Slowly, the covers fall with her hands until the lay peacefully in her lap. Her shoulders untense, her face falls the tiniest bit, and Emma sighs. “Safe.”

A flash of memory overwhelms him for a moment. Of when he was sick as a lad and his mother, bless her heart, making him feel safe as she read to soothe him. It makes his heart warm and he smiles softly.

“Good. You’re doing wonderfully, Swan,” he encourages her, gently guiding her down to lie on her side facing him. “What else makes you feel safe?”

“Hunting with you during the full moon,” she continues. “I know you’ve got my back, so I can basically run wild.”

That makes him chuckle, his hand brushing against her arm. “I’m sure you’d run wild even if I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, but,” she can’t look at him. She licks her bottom lip and bites it. Then her green green eyes shoot up to his. “Killian.”

“Yes, love?”

There’s a moment, between his answer and her action, that Killian understands much of what he never understood before. There’s something in her eyes that makes complete sense. He understands why men would go to war for a woman, and why they’d give their lives just to see her. For some reason, it makes sense.

And then Sheriff Emma Swan is kissing him. In his bed, her hand on his cheek warm save for her freezing fingertips.

He’s gobsmacked, to say the least, but gives as good as he can take. And when she pulls away, he keeps his eyes shut for a moment, because he must be dreaming.

Except he’s not. When he opens his eyes, Killian finds Emma’s hand over her mouth and her cheeks red as cherries.

“Not that I’m arguing it, but what was that for?” he asks quietly. HIs hand finds her wrist, finds the slightly raised skin of a tattoo he’s never seen.

She shrugs, looking anywhere that isn’t him. “You wanted me to open up,” she explains. Emma’s eyes match his swiftly before glancing away again. “I couldn’t think of a way of saying that that wasn’t corny.”

“And what exactly is it that you were trying to say?” he asks. He hopes his touch comforts her and not drive her away.

Reluctantly, Emma issues a chuckle from her lips. She leans forward, her forehead pressing against his and the tips of their noses touching. “You’re a safe place. My safe place.” Her hand comes to rest on his cheek, scratching at the skin by his ear, and then she kisses him again. “I wasn’t going to keep up this game. I don’t have the patience for it.”

Killian laughs. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me in the least.” He kisses her this time, pushing her backwards until she’s flat on her back. “You feel a little better?” he asks, hovering over her.

“Yeah,” she sighs. Then she jerks her head toward the bedside table. “Do you wanna read?”

He falls back on to one elbow. “Is that you telling me you’d like me to read to you?” he clarifies, raising his eyebrow. She nods and settles back on to his chest until he chuckles. “Swan, I can’t read anything if I don’t have the book to read.”

Groaning, Emma rolls back for a moment just to let him reach for his book and settle back into the mattress.

0000

The next morning, he wake to a weight on his chest. It’s Emma, he realizes, his book haphazardly shoved down to their knees, the pages folded over.

(That’s gonna bother him later, but right now, the little puffs of Emma’s breath is worth the discomfort.)

He closes his eyes, intending to only wake up further, but falls back asleep. When he wakes again, Emma’s staring at him. She looks away when their eyes connect, her cheeks reddening. She grumbles out a sorry and starts sliding out of the mess of sheets.

Killian reaches out and grabs her hand. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Back to my room.” She pulls away from him and lifting the sheets away from her body. “I’m sorry I stayed here the whole night,” she apologizes.

“Don’t apologize,” he requests, “come back here.” With a moan and a roll of her eyes, Emma crawls back on to the bed. She flops gracelessly at his side, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. “I’m glad you stayed,” he tells her.

Her gaze shoots up to his. “Yeah?” she asks, her voice higher and self conscious.

“Aye,” he says. “May I kiss you?”

“You’re asking?” she says confusedly.

Killian shrugs. “Seemed appropriate.”

Shaking her head, Emma’s smile gives him his answer. He leans forward and presses his lips to hers and it’s just as sweet, if not sweeter, than those he got the night before.

“You don’t need to ask anymore,” Emma says against his lips. He chuckles and falls back on his pillow, Emma following and landing on his chest.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” he says.

“Ha!” Emma sits up and stares at him. “Fine. Let’s conduct another experiment.”

His arms come up over and behind his head. “I’m listening,” he says with a smirk.

Coming over him, Emma straddles him. “Make me breathless. No asking,” she says, her hair hanging around them like a curtain. “Make me regret saying that.”

He’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

0000

Enamoured. He’s enamoured with her. They spend the nights between their two bedrooms and poorly hiding their growing affection from Liam.

But the moment that cements everything for him is at the next transformation. He’s led her to his favorite part of the woods: a little clearing on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. It’s where he feels most as peace, regardless of whether he’s wolf or not. They’ve both got their places to hide away, but sometimes, just like a normal couple, he and Emma have got to hide away together.

“How did it happen to you?” he asks telepathically.

“Did what happen?”

His chuckle come outs as a wolfish grunt, his nose knocking playfully at her ear. “Am I to assume you were born with four legs and somehow changed into the delightful woman I’ve come to know?”

Emma grumbles and shifts, scooting closer to him.

“No.” Her head comes to rest on his side. “I was about 17, figuring out places to sleep whenever I got tired and stealing food from convenience stores. And I actually met my ex trying to get some Pop Tarts past a grocery store clerk.” She sighs and sinks further on to Killian. “He was older than me, but he was the first person who actually showed any sort of interest in me at all. He taught me how to hotwire cars. That’s how I got the Bug.”

He can’t lie - Killian is hurt by the fact that his love’s trusty, if not a bit rusty, car is a remnant of a relationship gone awry. Especially when she continues her story.

“He bit me,” she says, burying her snout into his fur as if trying to hide from shame or embarrassment. A little bit of both, perhaps, if the feeling he gets through their mental bond is anything to go by. “We had gotten a little too frisky in the back of the Bug and he broke the skin. Not that I thought it meant anything like this would happen in the long run.” Emma sighs again. “I was already running from the foster system, so I just kept running. And I had hoped he would come with, but he left shortly after.”

He’d suspected it all this time - a lost girl has the same look as any other lost and lonely boy, regardless of the circumstances surrounding them. Even if he can’t admit it, it’s probably what drew Killian to her in the first place.

(No, that was most definitely a combination of the sass and striking features.)

“I spent most of my time in the woods when I was a wolf. I was pretty much dependent on cardboard boxes and homeless shelters when I was human.” Sniffing, Emma shuffles toward the edge of the cliff and, for the first time, Killian feels a sense of peace and contentment wash over the both of them.

(Perhaps the water is calming for both of them.)

“And then I gave up,” she says. “I got sick of couches and cots and cardboard boxes and I decided to grow up. Get a real job that gave me real money.” Pawing at the tip of her nose, Emma finally looks him in the eye. “I sent my resume to a police station in Boston and they put me in officer training two weeks later.”

Killian stares at her, overwhelmed by her story as a whole and the emotions bleeding through their bond. It’s getting stronger each day, each transformation. He’s sure if he told Liam of the connection, his brother would force him to worry about it, be concerned over whether this whole “bonding” thing would take over his personality.

But as he lays next to Emma, processing all she told him, Killian can’t find himself to care.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why on heaven and earth are you apologizing, love?”

“I’ve got kind of a shitty story.” Her nose moves from the fur on his shoulder blade to lie right next to this face. “I’ve never really told it to anyone in one fell swoop before.” Her tongue sticks out, licking at her maw as a distraction. “You still aren’t saying anything.”

He brushes his nose against what would be her cheek in human form. “I’m quiet because I’m trying to figure out where your strength comes from,” he murmurs. “I haven’t said a word because I’m trying to determine how you not only survived, but thrived despite the circumstances you were given.” Killian licks the expanse of her face. “In total, I’d have to say that I’m completely astounded by the marvel that you are.”

Emma hums, the hint of a smile appearing on her face. “I can’t be too sure with all that British talk, but I think that was a compliment.” She snuffles and pokes at his snout with hers. “Are you going soft on me, Jones? Buttering me up so I don’t yell at you when my period comes next week?”

Killian barks out a laugh, playfully biting at the space behind her ears. “Maybe,” he grumbles, laughing again when her paws come up and push him away from her. Emma snarls, standing up and moving to another place on the outcropping. She glares at him as she circles her new spot and lays down. With a roll of his head in his neck socket, Killian follows her, curling up beside her and nudging her nose with his. “Or perhaps I meant every single word I told you.”

She doesn’t say anything, her breath evening out shortly after, but killian does spot the hint of a smile on her face. Content ekes through their bond, along with joy and the warmth of familiarity. They’re already pretty close - Killian isn’t even nearly as close to his brother as he is with Swan, and surely he’s got to be closest person for her - but her revelation, her origin story for lack of a better term, cements in his mind just how important he is to her.

And how absolutely, unrecoverably in love with her.

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