#cssns 2022
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Canticum Sanguinis Lux - Renatus (8/8)
Summary: Once, all Emma Nolan wanted was a normal life, but when she had a run in with a vampire as a teenager she realised that she couldn’t escape the life of a hunter. Now all she wants to do is prove herself, and she’s going to end up going above and beyond to be the hunter the world needs her to be.
Rating: Explicit. Mostly for graphic descriptions of violence, and some smut, but not until later chapters.
Warnings: There are now more than just hints at the non con nature of the control vampires can have over humans. And the fact that they’re strong af
Notes: This is it! It is done! Oh my GOSH it was a hard slog. Thank you so much to you all for your support and comments, I really appreciate every single one of them. There's probably not enough smut in this for some people, but this is how it chose to be written.
Thanks to the @cssns mods for running this event, thank you to @clockadile for the gorgeous banner. Lastly, thank you to @kmomof4, who not only is an amazing beta, but volunteered to deal with my panics and the amount of hitting my head against a wall that this has made me do. Thank you so much, I could not have done this without you.
Tagging: @kmomof4 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandonfanatic @undercaffinatednightmare @anmylica @elfiola @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @myfearless-love @xhookswenchx @wefoundloveunderthelight @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @onceratheart18 @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @itsfabianadocarmo @ouatpost @ultraluckycatnd @thepirateandhisson @xsajx @captainswan21 @spaceconveyor @pirateprincessofpizza @sparlecorn93 @hollyethecurious @ammelia @pawshapedheart
I’m rebooting my taglist at the end of this fic, so if you’d like to keep getting tagged, please DM me. Thanks
Full fic on AO3
- - - - -
Emma had to admit that the view from up here was quite spectacular. She’d thought Europe had been impressive- with its castles and old houses and forests- had found India with its heat and smells and interesting buildings even more intriguing with her new appreciation her abilities had given her, but standing up here in the sunlight, with Killian’s hand in hers was… something she never thought she’d have.
It hadn’t faded over the years, their ability to withstand sunlight, and this immunity to something that should have left them both burning had even more advantages than they’d ever thought.
The view of Rio de Janeiro in full sun from the top of the summit underneath the Cristo Redentor, and the ability to sightsee like normal tourists when they weren’t otherwise working was only one of them. Add in their way of taking unsuspecting supernaturals of the day by surprise and life as a hunter could be… fulfilling in a way it hadn’t seemed before.
For all Emma’s difficulty with her temper before she was turned, learning to overcome her lust for blood had been… not easy, but a manageable task, all things considered. It was, in fact, only a couple of weeks before she could visit her parents without worrying she was going to unexpectedly lose control. Only a few months before she was doing so regularly and for long periods of time. She didn’t know if access to her own blood had helped, or if it was just coincidence, but what she did know was how much Killian had helped.
She glanced across at him, taking in the wonder on his face as he surveyed the view. Watching as his eyes drifted shut as he enjoyed the feel of sunlight on his skin without the fear that had been so prevalent at first. Even now, years later, as she looked at him, she could feel the change in her body that just being around him brought. She had no heartbeat to speed up or breaths to shallow or the swooping of butterflies but… She still felt them, as certainly as though her body still needed them to survive.
She’d had more time to love him than she’d ever dreamed.
- - - - -
Continues on AO3
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She is a mermaid but approach her with caution. Her mind swims at a depth most would drown in...
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
That kind of love... as endless as the ocean, as timeless as the tides....
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Meet me where the sky touches the sea....
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
For Captain Swan Supernatural Summer ( @cssns )
@kmomof4 @snowbellewells @lifeinahole27 @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @alexa-fangirl-forever
#cssns 2022#cssns#cssns22#captain swan#emma x killian#killian jones#emma swan#killian x emma#captain killian jones#emma swan jones#cs mermaid au#mermaid!emma
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The Dark Elven
A/N: This fic was started way back in April, I wanted to take part in this year’s CSSNS event on Tumblr. This is my contribution, it had always been my intent to write something inspired by The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit elves. I even made a moodboard/collage when I first started writing, I shared it on my Tumblr back in April.
I was so friggin happy when I learned that I was paired with the talented @piinfeathers, she has made the amazing cover art for me. (In two versions, one dawn/day and one night… the dawn one is going to be my “official” cover as it fits with a scene that comes later on. I have both versions set up side by side on my computer wallpaper, I love them so much.)
This will be multichapter and I have yet to find the ending in this, currently, I have 8 chapters written and we have yet to reach the final “battle”. I will try and spread out my updates so I’ll post one each week, I will do my best to remember to do it each Wednesday. In the next two weeks, you will have to excuse me if I forget as I’m on vacation.
I need to make one more shoutout and that is for my very helpful beta reader @ultraluckycatndltraluckycatnd. Without her, it would be filled with cringy typos and grammar errors.
I hope you will enjoy this as much as I’ve enjoyed the process of writing this, and continue to enjoy it. Let me know in a review what you think of this. Read here or on AO3
Prologue
“Come now, little brother,” Liam urged, pushing away another low-hanging branch.
“It’s younger brother,” Killian grumbled as his foot got tangled in another gnarled root. “Do we even know if the bloody crystal is in the temple; that it is perhaps nothing but a myth? It could be anywhere in this godforsaken place.” He looked at the dense forest around them; they had trekked through this place for hours.
Liam inspected his compass and compared his notes on a small tattered parchment. “We’re almost there.” He pointed ahead of the tiny trail that could hardly be called anything else but thick woodland. Liam chopped off the twisted vines that blocked their passage with his cutlass. Liam was an expert at wielding the weapon and had taught Killian as they worked their way up the ranks on Captain Nemo’s pirate ship. When the old captain had died, Liam had taken up the mantle of Captain on the Jolly Roger.
“I bloody well hope so.” Killian swatted at a mosquito that buzzed around his ears.
“Look.” Liam stopped in his tracks and pointed with his cutlass. “It’s right there brother.”
“So the crystal is in there?” Killian managed to push forward so he stood next to his brother. “This place looks haunted.” The tall, almost pyramid-shaped structure rose above them, intricate symbols lined the walls and around what looked to be the entrance.
“Come now, Killian.” Liam took a step forward, eyes scanning the large open area in front of the lost temple.
Killian followed his brother and they reached the entrance, and Liam checked his map and notes again. Finally, he nodded. “I know how to get in.” He reached out and pressed the Greek letters in the correct order.
Moments later, the large entryway opened up and they could see a dark hallway. Liam found his torch in his backpack and, using a firesteel, the flame caught the oil in the torch.
“Are you sure about this?” Killian looked into the darkness, his skin prickled in fear.
“Come now, brother.” Liam pushed through a layer of cobwebs and lifted the torch as he stepped inside. “Be careful where you step,” he warned as he walked further inside.
Killian glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one had picked up on their trail. But the forest around them was still, perhaps a bit too quiet. Taking a deep breath, he hurried after his brother. “That bloody crystal better be here.”
“It will be, the charts have yet to fail us,” Liam said as he led them deeper into the ancient Greek temple. The temple that they had spent days locating was in the middle of some deep forest area in Camelot, close to the borders of Misthaven. Misthaven was the land of elves, and who knew if they in fact hadn’t already crossed the borders between the two realms.
Finally, the hallway seemed to open up in front of them, and they stepped out into a cavernous room, the light from the torch never reaching the ceiling.
As they scanned the area ahead of them, they saw a faint flickering of blue light further into the room.
“So this is an old temple of Zeus?” Killian asked, surprised that his voice didn’t echo through the vastness of the room.
“It is.” Liam pointed to the blue light. “I think that is the crystal.”
The two brothers walked carefully over the floor, stepping over several shallow grooves that had been cut out into the floor; it looked like it was filled with something. Killian crouched down. “Hold on brother.” When Liam turned to him he said, “What do you suppose this substance is?” He pointed to the not quite liquid but still not solid mass in the grooves.
“Careful,” Liam warned. He pulled out a small knife and dipped the tip of it into the substance, then he carefully lifted it to his face and sniffed. “Smells like burning oil, and some other things I can’t place.”
Killian grabbed for the torch. “So, indoor lighting.” He moved the flame to the ground and seconds later, the substance caught the flames, and with a fizzling sound, a low burning flame ran through the groove, spreading throughout the room. The brothers watched as the room became more and more alight with the now low burning flames. The grooves all formed an intricate pattern over the floor and moved up towards where they’d seen the blue light. Now they could clearly see a raised platform on top of a wide staircase.
They carefully moved up towards the platform and as they approached the blue light, they could see a long blue crystal resting on top of the platform.
“The Olympian Crystal,” Killian whispered in awe. When they had first heard the tales of the crystal, they had both thought it was nothing but a myth. But then they came across old maps and logbooks that pointed towards a lost Olympian temple.
Liam reached out and let his finger slide over the ridges of the crystal; the pale blue light that emanated from it seemed to shift and change as he touched it.
“Careful brother,” Killian warned, but Liam grabbed the crystal and when nothing happened, they both sighed in relief.
“We did it,” Liam said in wonder, his eyes catching Killian’s, and they both let out a victorious cry. Killian clasped his brother’s shoulder as they looked at the crystal in Liam’s hand.
“That we did,” Killian exclaimed and was amazed that they had managed to find the mythical Olympian Crystal.
“We’ll get the darkness out now,” Liam said and waved the crystal between them, then frowned.
“First we will have to find someone who holds strong light magic,” Killian said in resignation. While it had been a struggle in itself to even locate the crystal, the next path seemed utterly impossible. “Bloody hell.” He tugged at his long hair, which usually fell over his pointed ears, hiding the fact that he and his brother were both part elven.
“Didn’t the seer also mention something of True Love?” Liam asked and gave Killian the crystal so he could store it safely in his satchel.
“Aye.” Killian secured their newly acquired treasure and sighed. “How the bloody hell do we find someone with True Love?”
“The elves are said to be firm believers in True Love.” Liam shrugged, then he rubbed over his own pointed ear hidden under his long dark brown hair. “Even if we do have some elven parts, I’m not trusting that True Love will ever find us.”
“We’re bloody pirates to boot, and our souls are tainted with our father’s darkness, and it’s only getting stronger.” Killian shook his head, not really believing they would ever find True Love. “But we should be able to find someone with light magic, perhaps that will be enough. We’ll run out of time eventually and the darkness will have consumed our souls.” His skin prickled as the simmering darkness shifted inside him; to this day, it was still manageable, and they survived despite the curse they had inherited from their father.
“Let’s start by getting out of this place,” Liam suggested and pointed to the exit. Killian nodded in agreement as the two brothers quickly found their way out and made good headway through the dense undergrowth of the forest.
Suddenly, a crackle was heard behind them and a blast of something dark red whizzed past their heads. When they both turned to look, they saw a menacing green-scaled man chortling while his fingers wiggled in front of him.
“Now Dearies, be some fine gents and give the crystal to me.” The man’s long wavy hair shifted over his face as he tilted his head back and forth. He reached out his hand and wiggled his fingers again.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” Killian asked, trying not to grab for his satchel, thus giving away where they had the crystal. “And how the hell do you know we have a crystal?”
“Ah you see, I couldn’t go into that temple meself, so when I saw you two,” he waved his finger between them, “walk inside, I just waited for you to come out.”
“Who are you?” Liam demanded, stepping forward.
“How delightful, you don’t know me.” The man tapped his chin then chortled again. “Now let me introduce meself then.” He did an overly dramatic bow. “I’m Rumplestiltskin the one and only, and you will do as I say or I’ll have you both skinned like snakes,” he smirked, “and I quite literally am capable of doing just that.” The menacing glint in the man’s beady eyes sent a chill down Killian’s spine; he was sure the man spoke the truth about how he could end their lives. But he wasn’t keen on testing out the theory.
“You’re the Dark One?” Liam gasped and stepped closer to Killian. “You—”
“Never mind what they call me.” He waved his hand dismissively in the air.
“Why would you need a crystal?” Killian asked.
“Killian,” Liam warned. “This is the Dark One—” At this, the green man’s eyes sparkled with delight. “ — He will most likely use the crystal for some devious plan of his.”
“Ah, so you do have a crystal,” the Dark One laughed. “Now give it here.”
Both Killian and Liam stepped back and glanced at each other. Killian saw the same resolution in his brother’s eyes, they would never allow the Dark One near their crystal. With a small nod from Liam, they both dove head first into the thick undergrowth to their left. Killian only hoped that their path would lead them to safety. But right now he focused on dodging low-hanging branches and avoiding getting struck by the magic that the Dark One was currently blasting at them. A howl of anger echoed between the trees, and seconds later they could hear him moving closer to them.
Killian had no idea for how long they stumbled and weaved in between the trees, but suddenly their path was blocked by a deep gorge, and a thundering waterfall to the left had the whole scene covered in a light spray of water.
“Bloody hell, now what?” But before Killian could make a choice, they had another blast of magic wizz by them, barely missing Liam.
They turned and saw the Dark One looming at the edge of the trees, his hands lifted, a sneer over his lips, anger in his eyes. “Now give the crystal to me.”
“We don’t have a crystal,” Killian tried, but he could see his words didn’t mean much.
“Now which one of you carries it?” Rumple tapped his chin, while still holding the other hand ready to blast his magic. His gaze shifted between Killian and Liam, and suddenly his eyes landed on Killian. “The younger perhaps?”
“No,” Liam shifted his own satchel, grabbing it tighter. Killian glanced at his brother, wondering what his game plan was.
The Dark One’s eyes narrowed, then lifted his hand towards Killian and flicked his wrist, and suddenly Killian felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Trying to grab at his own throat, he found Liam’s horrified gaze transfixed on what happened. Liam tried to reach out to Killian but the Dark One sneered. “Give me the crystal and I’ll leave your dear brother alone.”
“I have it here.” Liam took off his satchel and placed it in front of him, his hands raised in the air. “Now let him go.”
Killian could hardly breathe anymore, black spots began to swim before his eyes, the air slowly seeping from his body. Suddenly he could breathe again, and he took large gulps of air. Before he could even comprehend what happened, the Dark One flicked his other hand and blasted a ball of dark red magic aiming straight for Liam. With his heart pounding in his ears, he watched as his brother was hit by the magic and stumbled back several steps. When Liam began slipping on the muddy edge of the cliffside, Killian bellowed, “Nooooo, Liam!” It all happened so fast that he barely managed to take a step forward before his brother slipped over the edge. Killian saw the fear etched in his brother's eyes, and his lips moving in a silent scream. Killian slumped to his knees, watching his brother tumble to his death, engulfed in the whirling vortex beneath the roaring waterfall.
“Ah, one down,” the Dark One chortled and when Killian looked behind him, he could see the man getting ready to blast his magic again.
In one fluent motion, Killian rose to his feet and bellowed, “I will avenge my brother’s death, you bloody wanker.”
“Now just give me the crystal and I’ll be on my merry way.” The Dark One waved his fingers at him, pointing at Killian’s satchel. “I bet it’s right in there.”
Killian was frantically searching for a way out of there, but he also had to keep an eye out for any movement the mad man did.
Before the Dark One said another word they heard the flapping of wings; it sounded like a large bird approaching. When both men turned to look towards the sound, Killian could see a large creature emerge from the mists hanging over the waterfall. As it got closer it looked more and more like, “A flying monkey?”
“What the hell is she doing here?” The anger in the man’s voice made it clear that whoever was flying on the beast, it wasn’t someone the Dark One had invited.
Killian didn’t really care; he took a chance and slipped down a narrow path he’d spotted that would take him downriver, leading away from the waterfall. He only hoped that the Dark One had been distracted enough for him to be able to slide down the path without being chased. Just as he made a sharp turn, he picked up broken pieces of the conversation happening above him.
“What? You don’t have the crystal…” It was a female voice that spoke at a high-pitched tone, sounding exasperated.
“You were not supposed to be here…”
“Oh but I’m here, and I guess I’ll have to find it myself…”
“That crystal is mine to find… mark me I’ll find it.”
“Whatever…”
Killian slipped down the path, his pants most likely in ruins, but he had to get the hell out of here and hopefully reach the Jolly Roger before the Dark One picked up his trail. When he finally reached the more level parts of the path that followed the brink of the river, he began searching for any signs of his brother. But his search was fruitless, and he knew he had at least another day's travel before he reached the sea. So he pushed forward and barely stopped to eat, only to fill up his waterskin whenever he crossed a smaller stream of water.
Early morning, he reached the shore and signaled for the crew to sail in with the longboat to pick him up. Minutes later he watched as the crew rowed the longboat to shore. Once they realized that only one Jones brother had returned, the group of men grew solemn, and with no words shared they returned to the Jolly Roger. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make; when Killian climbed on board the ship, he took over his brother’s role as captain of the enchanted ship the Jolly Roger. For the next many years, he would travel the realms and to his crew’s surprise, he never seemed to age. He often excused it with their many travels to Neverland, a hellhole in all the realms, but he did make a few lucrative deals with the devil ruling the island. Deals often included him spending more time than his crew on the island.
The years passed and each time anything regarding magic happened around him, he would flee and make haste to set sails. He knew the Dark One would be looking for him, and searched the realms for the crystal that he still had in his possession. None of his crew knew of the crystal, all they had been told was that the brothers had searched for something. When he returned he’d claimed the mission to be a failure, only gaining an enemy in the Dark One.
Killian searched the realms they sailed through for anyone with light magic; it had only been an endless string of failures every time he came across someone wielding magic, though. As such, he spent years struggling with the looming darkness shifting around in his soul. It messed with his mind, making him do and speak things that he would never have done on his own accord. The darkness ruled his life and knowing none with light magic, he ended up not believing him to ever be free of the darkness. At his darkest moments, he cursed his father’s elven magic that had caused the darkness to seep into him and his brother. But this was his life, he was a pirate and a bloody good one too; perhaps the darkness did help in this regard, yet he never felt as if this was the life he wanted to live. What more was there to find in life?
The Dark Elven
A/N: This fic was started way back in April, I wanted to take part in this year’s CSSNS event on Tumblr. This is my contribution, it had always been my intent to write something inspired by The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit elves. I even made a moodboard/collage when I first started writing, I shared it on my Tumblr back in April.
I was so friggin happy when I learned that I was paired with the talented piinfeathers, she has made the amazing cover art for me. (In two versions, one dawn/day and one night… the dawn one is going to be my “official” cover as it fits with a scene that comes later on. I have both versions set up side by side on my computer wallpaper, I love them so much.)
This will be multichapter and I have yet to find the ending in this, currently, I have 8 chapters written and we have yet to reach the final “battle”. I will try and spread out my updates so I’ll post one each week, I will do my best to remember to do it each Wednesday. In the next two weeks, you will have to excuse me if I forget as I’m on vacation.
I need to make one more shoutout and that is for my very helpful beta reader Ultraluckycatnd. Without her, it would be filled with cringy typos and grammar errors.
I hope you will enjoy this as much as I’ve enjoyed the process of writing this, and continue to enjoy it. Let me know in a review what you think of this.
Prologue
“Come now, little brother,” Liam urged, pushing away another low-hanging branch.
“It’s younger brother,” Killian grumbled as his foot got tangled in another gnarled root. “Do we even know if the bloody crystal is in the temple; that it is perhaps nothing but a myth? It could be anywhere in this godforsaken place.” He looked at the dense forest around them; they had trekked through this place for hours.
Liam inspected his compass and compared his notes on a small tattered parchment. “We’re almost there.” He pointed ahead of the tiny trail that could hardly be called anything else but thick woodland. Liam chopped off the twisted vines that blocked their passage with his cutlass. Liam was an expert at wielding the weapon and had taught Killian as they worked their way up the ranks on Captain Nemo’s pirate ship. When the old captain had died, Liam had taken up the mantle of Captain on the Jolly Roger.
“I bloody well hope so.” Killian swatted at a mosquito that buzzed around his ears.
“Look.” Liam stopped in his tracks and pointed with his cutlass. “It’s right there brother.”
“So the crystal is in there?” Killian managed to push forward so he stood next to his brother. “This place looks haunted.” The tall, almost pyramid-shaped structure rose above them, intricate symbols lined the walls and around what looked to be the entrance.
“Come now, Killian.” Liam took a step forward, eyes scanning the large open area in front of the lost temple.
Killian followed his brother and they reached the entrance, and Liam checked his map and notes again. Finally, he nodded. “I know how to get in.” He reached out and pressed the Greek letters in the correct order.
Moments later, the large entryway opened up and they could see a dark hallway. Liam found his torch in his backpack and, using a firesteel, the flame caught the oil in the torch.
“Are you sure about this?” Killian looked into the darkness, his skin prickled in fear.
“Come now, brother.” Liam pushed through a layer of cobwebs and lifted the torch as he stepped inside. “Be careful where you step,” he warned as he walked further inside.
Killian glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one had picked up on their trail. But the forest around them was still, perhaps a bit too quiet. Taking a deep breath, he hurried after his brother. “That bloody crystal better be here.”
“It will be, the charts have yet to fail us,” Liam said as he led them deeper into the ancient Greek temple. The temple that they had spent days locating was in the middle of some deep forest area in Camelot, close to the borders of Misthaven. Misthaven was the land of elves, and who knew if they in fact hadn’t already crossed the borders between the two realms.
Finally, the hallway seemed to open up in front of them, and they stepped out into a cavernous room, the light from the torch never reaching the ceiling.
As they scanned the area ahead of them, they saw a faint flickering of blue light further into the room.
“So this is an old temple of Zeus?” Killian asked, surprised that his voice didn’t echo through the vastness of the room.
“It is.” Liam pointed to the blue light. “I think that is the crystal.”
The two brothers walked carefully over the floor, stepping over several shallow grooves that had been cut out into the floor; it looked like it was filled with something. Killian crouched down. “Hold on brother.” When Liam turned to him he said, “What do you suppose this substance is?” He pointed to the not quite liquid but still not solid mass in the grooves.
“Careful,” Liam warned. He pulled out a small knife and dipped the tip of it into the substance, then he carefully lifted it to his face and sniffed. “Smells like burning oil, and some other things I can’t place.”
Killian grabbed for the torch. “So, indoor lighting.” He moved the flame to the ground and seconds later, the substance caught the flames, and with a fizzling sound, a low burning flame ran through the groove, spreading throughout the room. The brothers watched as the room became more and more alight with the now low burning flames. The grooves all formed an intricate pattern over the floor and moved up towards where they’d seen the blue light. Now they could clearly see a raised platform on top of a wide staircase.
They carefully moved up towards the platform and as they approached the blue light, they could see a long blue crystal resting on top of the platform.
“The Olympian Crystal,” Killian whispered in awe. When they had first heard the tales of the crystal, they had both thought it was nothing but a myth. But then they came across old maps and logbooks that pointed towards a lost Olympian temple.
Liam reached out and let his finger slide over the ridges of the crystal; the pale blue light that emanated from it seemed to shift and change as he touched it.
“Careful brother,” Killian warned, but Liam grabbed the crystal and when nothing happened, they both sighed in relief.
“We did it,” Liam said in wonder, his eyes catching Killian’s, and they both let out a victorious cry. Killian clasped his brother’s shoulder as they looked at the crystal in Liam’s hand.
“That we did,” Killian exclaimed and was amazed that they had managed to find the mythical Olympian Crystal.
“We’ll get the darkness out now,” Liam said and waved the crystal between them, then frowned.
“First we will have to find someone who holds strong light magic,” Killian said in resignation. While it had been a struggle in itself to even locate the crystal, the next path seemed utterly impossible. “Bloody hell.” He tugged at his long hair, which usually fell over his pointed ears, hiding the fact that he and his brother were both part elven.
“Didn’t the seer also mention something of True Love?” Liam asked and gave Killian the crystal so he could store it safely in his satchel.
“Aye.” Killian secured their newly acquired treasure and sighed. “How the bloody hell do we find someone with True Love?”
“The elves are said to be firm believers in True Love.” Liam shrugged, then he rubbed over his own pointed ear hidden under his long dark brown hair. “Even if we do have some elven parts, I’m not trusting that True Love will ever find us.”
“We’re bloody pirates to boot, and our souls are tainted with our father’s darkness, and it’s only getting stronger.” Killian shook his head, not really believing they would ever find True Love. “But we should be able to find someone with light magic, perhaps that will be enough. We’ll run out of time eventually and the darkness will have consumed our souls.” His skin prickled as the simmering darkness shifted inside him; to this day, it was still manageable, and they survived despite the curse they had inherited from their father.
“Let’s start by getting out of this place,” Liam suggested and pointed to the exit. Killian nodded in agreement as the two brothers quickly found their way out and made good headway through the dense undergrowth of the forest.
Suddenly, a crackle was heard behind them and a blast of something dark red whizzed past their heads. When they both turned to look, they saw a menacing green-scaled man chortling while his fingers wiggled in front of him.
“Now Dearies, be some fine gents and give the crystal to me.” The man’s long wavy hair shifted over his face as he tilted his head back and forth. He reached out his hand and wiggled his fingers again.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” Killian asked, trying not to grab for his satchel, thus giving away where they had the crystal. “And how the hell do you know we have a crystal?”
“Ah you see, I couldn’t go into that temple meself, so when I saw you two,” he waved his finger between them, “walk inside, I just waited for you to come out.”
“Who are you?” Liam demanded, stepping forward.
“How delightful, you don’t know me.” The man tapped his chin then chortled again. “Now let me introduce meself then.” He did an overly dramatic bow. “I’m Rumplestiltskin the one and only, and you will do as I say or I’ll have you both skinned like snakes,” he smirked, “and I quite literally am capable of doing just that.” The menacing glint in the man’s beady eyes sent a chill down Killian���s spine; he was sure the man spoke the truth about how he could end their lives. But he wasn’t keen on testing out the theory.
“You’re the Dark One?” Liam gasped and stepped closer to Killian. “You—”
“Never mind what they call me.” He waved his hand dismissively in the air.
“Why would you need a crystal?” Killian asked.
“Killian,” Liam warned. “This is the Dark One—” At this, the green man’s eyes sparkled with delight. “ — He will most likely use the crystal for some devious plan of his.”
“Ah, so you do have a crystal,” the Dark One laughed. “Now give it here.”
Both Killian and Liam stepped back and glanced at each other. Killian saw the same resolution in his brother’s eyes, they would never allow the Dark One near their crystal. With a small nod from Liam, they both dove head first into the thick undergrowth to their left. Killian only hoped that their path would lead them to safety. But right now he focused on dodging low-hanging branches and avoiding getting struck by the magic that the Dark One was currently blasting at them. A howl of anger echoed between the trees, and seconds later they could hear him moving closer to them.
Killian had no idea for how long they stumbled and weaved in between the trees, but suddenly their path was blocked by a deep gorge, and a thundering waterfall to the left had the whole scene covered in a light spray of water.
“Bloody hell, now what?” But before Killian could make a choice, they had another blast of magic wizz by them, barely missing Liam.
They turned and saw the Dark One looming at the edge of the trees, his hands lifted, a sneer over his lips, anger in his eyes. “Now give the crystal to me.”
“We don’t have a crystal,” Killian tried, but he could see his words didn’t mean much.
“Now which one of you carries it?” Rumple tapped his chin, while still holding the other hand ready to blast his magic. His gaze shifted between Killian and Liam, and suddenly his eyes landed on Killian. “The younger perhaps?”
“No,” Liam shifted his own satchel, grabbing it tighter. Killian glanced at his brother, wondering what his game plan was.
The Dark One’s eyes narrowed, then lifted his hand towards Killian and flicked his wrist, and suddenly Killian felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Trying to grab at his own throat, he found Liam’s horrified gaze transfixed on what happened. Liam tried to reach out to Killian but the Dark One sneered. “Give me the crystal and I’ll leave your dear brother alone.”
“I have it here.” Liam took off his satchel and placed it in front of him, his hands raised in the air. “Now let him go.”
Killian could hardly breathe anymore, black spots began to swim before his eyes, the air slowly seeping from his body. Suddenly he could breathe again, and he took large gulps of air. Before he could even comprehend what happened, the Dark One flicked his other hand and blasted a ball of dark red magic aiming straight for Liam. With his heart pounding in his ears, he watched as his brother was hit by the magic and stumbled back several steps. When Liam began slipping on the muddy edge of the cliffside, Killian bellowed, “Nooooo, Liam!” It all happened so fast that he barely managed to take a step forward before his brother slipped over the edge. Killian saw the fear etched in his brother's eyes, and his lips moving in a silent scream. Killian slumped to his knees, watching his brother tumble to his death, engulfed in the whirling vortex beneath the roaring waterfall.
“Ah, one down,” the Dark One chortled and when Killian looked behind him, he could see the man getting ready to blast his magic again.
In one fluent motion, Killian rose to his feet and bellowed, “I will avenge my brother’s death, you bloody wanker.”
“Now just give me the crystal and I’ll be on my merry way.” The Dark One waved his fingers at him, pointing at Killian’s satchel. “I bet it’s right in there.”
Killian was frantically searching for a way out of there, but he also had to keep an eye out for any movement the mad man did.
Before the Dark One said another word they heard the flapping of wings; it sounded like a large bird approaching. When both men turned to look towards the sound, Killian could see a large creature emerge from the mists hanging over the waterfall. As it got closer it looked more and more like, “A flying monkey?”
“What the hell is she doing here?” The anger in the man’s voice made it clear that whoever was flying on the beast, it wasn’t someone the Dark One had invited.
Killian didn’t really care; he took a chance and slipped down a narrow path he’d spotted that would take him downriver, leading away from the waterfall. He only hoped that the Dark One had been distracted enough for him to be able to slide down the path without being chased. Just as he made a sharp turn, he picked up broken pieces of the conversation happening above him.
“What? You don’t have the crystal…” It was a female voice that spoke at a high-pitched tone, sounding exasperated.
“You were not supposed to be here…”
“Oh but I’m here, and I guess I’ll have to find it myself…”
“That crystal is mine to find… mark me I’ll find it.”
“Whatever…”
Killian slipped down the path, his pants most likely in ruins, but he had to get the hell out of here and hopefully reach the Jolly Roger before the Dark One picked up his trail. When he finally reached the more level parts of the path that followed the brink of the river, he began searching for any signs of his brother. But his search was fruitless, and he knew he had at least another day's travel before he reached the sea. So he pushed forward and barely stopped to eat, only to fill up his waterskin whenever he crossed a smaller stream of water.
Early morning, he reached the shore and signaled for the crew to sail in with the longboat to pick him up. Minutes later he watched as the crew rowed the longboat to shore. Once they realized that only one Jones brother had returned, the group of men grew solemn, and with no words shared they returned to the Jolly Roger. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make; when Killian climbed on board the ship, he took over his brother’s role as captain of the enchanted ship the Jolly Roger. For the next many years, he would travel the realms and to his crew’s surprise, he never seemed to age. He often excused it with their many travels to Neverland, a hellhole in all the realms, but he did make a few lucrative deals with the devil ruling the island. Deals often included him spending more time than his crew on the island.
The years passed and each time anything regarding magic happened around him, he would flee and make haste to set sails. He knew the Dark One would be looking for him, and searched the realms for the crystal that he still had in his possession. None of his crew knew of the crystal, all they had been told was that the brothers had searched for something. When he returned he’d claimed the mission to be a failure, only gaining an enemy in the Dark One.
Killian searched the realms they sailed through for anyone with light magic; it had only been an endless string of failures every time he came across someone wielding magic, though. As such, he spent years struggling with the looming darkness shifting around in his soul. It messed with his mind, making him do and speak things that he would never have done on his own accord. The darkness ruled his life and knowing none with light magic, he ended up not believing him to ever be free of the darkness. At his darkest moments, he cursed his father’s elven magic that had caused the darkness to seep into him and his brother. But this was his life, he was a pirate and a bloody good one too; perhaps the darkness did help in this regard, yet he never felt as if this was the life he wanted to live. What more was there to find in life?
#cssns 2022#ouat#fanfiction#once upon a time#captain swan#killian jones#emma swan#my writing#writers#writers on tumblr#elves#inspired by tolkien#cssns22
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Orchid Island
One shot for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer
A Tropical get away will provide Omega Emma and Alpha Killian with the chance to meet. And a chance to Bond.
Orchid Island was a special getaway providing someone a chance to be introduced to their potential mate. If their instincts aligned, they would be given a cabana and a hut to join as a mated pair.
The island resort was exclusive to Alphas and Omegas. Only Betas were employed, and even they were only around when providing refreshments or other necessities. Other than that, they were to remain as far away from the mating beings as possible.
Each Alpha and Omega was flown to the private island in a small charter plane. Unless it was a boat transporting supplies or staff, no other vessel was allowed entry. Beta guards were employed for the sole purpose of ensuring the safety and privacy of the guests.
Some say the island calls to the Alphas and the Omegas who feel drawn to the place at the same time as their potential mate. Others claim that it is the primal instincts that guide the being when their perfect other half longs for a bond.
Whatever the case, Emma Swan and her friends found themselves as the latest arrivals to the lush tropical paradise.
“Are you sure about this, MM?”
“Trust me Emma. This place has a one hundred percent success rate. Any Alpha and Omega yearning to find a mate always finds one.”
“I hope you’re right. I’m tired of going through my heats with only a toy for relief. I feel like if I don’t have an Alpha pin me down and claim me soon, I’m going to go insane.” Ruby huffed, already keeping her sharp eyes out for any sexy Alpha hotties.
Betas wearing crisp white uniforms guided them to the Omega quarters, where they would be staying until they found an Alpha match.
Emma noticed an abundance of the color fuchsia everywhere, as well as the scent of sweet tropical fruits.
“I wonder what the Alpha quarters look like?”
“You can ask your mate after you meet him.” A Beta woman answered Ruby’s question as she walked into the room. “But I’m sure there will be other things you will have on your mind at that point.” Looking at the rest of the Omegas, she said, “I want to welcome you all to Orchid Island. I’m sure you will have a wonderful time here. Though you are no doubt here to find a mate, please do not put pressure on yourself to do so. Allow yourself to relax and let things happen in their own way.”
"I can't believe I let you guys talk me into coming here."
"None of us are having much luck meeting Omegas. This place promises every Alpha and Omega will find their perfect mate."
"But what if we don't live anywhere near our potential mate? How can it be perfect when there's a chance of being separated again?"
"I don't know how it works, I just know that every person I've talked to who has been here has met the love of their life."
Killian Jones left out that he may have had an ace up his sleeve. He knew that the Omega he desired most was going to be on this island.
He had yearned for Emma Swan since the first day he saw her take down an Alpha who was trying to get too handsy with her.
He saw her regularly in the bar him and his brother owned, but there was never a good time to talk to her.
And then one night he overheard her and her friends discussing going to a tropical resort they just heard about. The moment he found out where they were going and when, he was booking tickets for himself and his friends. Then he did some research about exactly what Orchid Island was, just so he could convince them all to go.
It was unsurprisingly easy. Both Graham and David were pretty sick and tired of the single Alpha lifestyle.
Killian hoped the magic of the island would allow him to spend some time with Emma and let him know once and for all if there could be a future with her.
A tray of tropical drinks, complete with tiny colorful umbrellas was presented to the guests as they entered the gathering lodge.
A live band on the stage provided fun background music for the guests to get to know each other in the well lit space.
The intoxicating scent of the tropical flowers filled the night air.
It all lent to an environment that felt peaceful and relaxed.
The music stopped when a Beta woman walked up onto the stage and introduced herself as the Resort Hostess.
“Wellcome All. We who operate the resort can guarantee the safety and wellbeing for all. For each rotation, there are no new guests who are brought in until the day after all previous guests have left. For the first day, we are all simply getting to know one another. Alphas and Omegas can meet and discuss whatever should come to mind. But by the end of the night, all Omegas go to their quarters and all Alphas return to theirs. There will be no mating on the first night. Tomorrow, Alphas and Omegas will be tested to see who is compatible with whom. The elements of the island lend themselves to providing the ideal conditions for finding a true mate. If a suitable mate is on this island, then you will find them and join with them. If anyone has not found a mate, then they will be offered pampering and other fun singles activities. For those who do find mates, their things will be transferred to the other side of the island. Each newly mated pair will be given a private hut and a cabana on the beach, to partake in activities for couples. The next three days are yours to do with whatever you like, to spend however you like. The last day you pack your things and return to your life, hopefully with a new mate.”
The Beta host did not mention that it was very rare for anyone to be partaking in the singles activities.
In all of the time the island had been hosting mating gatherings, only two kinds of beings did not find a mate.
1: Those who were too young and immature, and therefore not yet ready for a mate.
Those in that category were often dragged to the island by well meaning friends and or family members who were trying to force things because they thought their loved one was lonely.
Many of them would return of their own choosing years later, and would happily find mates.
2:Those that though they were fully mature physically, were not suitable lifemate material.
These were the beings who didn’t fully understand what it was to be a lifemate. Alphas that wanted to completely control an Omega. Omegas that wanted to manipulate Alphas and play them against each other.
Both sexes had been noticed to attempt to seduce and become intimate with more than one partner. It never worked out in their favor, since everyone else who came to the island was looking for a life partner, and could always sense who was and who was not suited for them.
Many of them had to be escorted off and banned from the island. There were incidents of them attempting to interfere with the matings of the couples who had paired up.
A few of those in the second category were rejected former companions who were hoping to get their ex back and or sabotage their chance at finding someone new.
The Beta host truly hoped that she wouldn’t have to be dealing with anyone from the second category.
Becoming intoxicated by anything other than the perfume of the tropical flowers or the scent of their mate was highly discouraged. So drinks were switched to strictly the non alcoholic kind.
“You are all here to find a mate. And one can not do that if their head is clouded by artificial means.” The Beta Hostess explained.
There were a few in attendance who seemed irritated by the rules, but most of the guests agreed with the idea.
The real fun to be had was when they found their lifemate.
Killian, spotting Emma, made his way to her, hoping it was the first step toward a life with her.
“Hello, my name’s Killian. Will you allow me the honor of a dance?”
She thought the Alpha was incredibly sexy, but she hesitated. “I”m Emma. I would like to, but I feel the need to warn you, I don’t know how good I will be.”
“As with most things love, there is only one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”
Emma allowed Killian to pull her onto the dance floor.
As they moved together, his eyes never left her face. The intensity in the way he was looking at her set her heart racing.
“I have a confession to make. I’ve seen you in the Rabbit Hole on multiple occasions. You were always there meeting someone, so I never felt it wise to approach you.”
Emma laughed. “I’m glad you didn’t. Or you would have cost me a lot of money.” Realizing how that might sound, she clarified. “I’m a bail bonds enforcer. It’s my job to lure in bale jumpers. Every one I bring in earns me money. Since I’m an Omega, it’s easy to lure in Alphas who have broken the law. I get underestimated, and then I get the element of surprise and the feeling of satisfaction when I take down Alphas twice my size.”
“I must say, I’m impressed. I sensed there was something special about you, but I had no idea just how amazing you were.”
Emma could tell Killian’s compliment was completely sincere and felt her cheeks grow warm.
All too soon, the resort host announced the end of that day's festivities.
“All Alphas and Omegas are advised to return to their rooms and get some rest. Tomorrow's planned events will reveal if your potential lifemate is here.”
There was obvious disappointment on the faces of both the Alphas and the Omegas. The attraction was already strong. Looks of longing were cast as each group was escorted back to their designated rooms.
“I have a strong feeling we are not going to be single after tomorrow.” Mary Margaret stated.
“That’s an understatement.” Ruby practically groaned. “I nearly presented for Graham right there in the meeting area.”
Emma knew exactly what Ruby was talking about. It took everything in her not to rub her backside against Killian’s groin and expose her neck for him to mark with a claiming bite. She could already sense that he was the Alpha for her.
In the Alpha quarters, there were similar statements.
“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that cute little Omega is so close?” David groaned.
“You think you got problems? I swear, that Omega, Ruby, smelled like she was about to enter her heat. I could drill through steel with what I’m dealing with right now.”
Killian could barely hear what David and Graham were saying. It was taking all of his focus and willpower not to rush to where Emma was and claim her that very night.
The hours until morning were certain to feel as if they were dragging on for an eternity.
The next day, everyone was eager to get started. There was a rush to get ready and make themselves presentable for their potential mate.
A Chase through the island was the test for the potential life mates.
All Omegas were to be given a fifteen minute head start. And if their Alpha could find them through the heavily scented forest, then there was no doubt that they were true mates.
The Alphas were kept locked away in the dining hall until fifteen minutes were up. No one wanted to risk an Alpha starting the pursuit too soon. Or having an unfair advantage because he saw the direction in which his desired Omega went.
The Alphas immediately started to become restless the moment they heard the giggle of the Omegas as they started off.
There was no clock in the hall, meaning they had to wait for the doors to be opened to know when the time was up.
The moment they heard the locks click, every Alpha was running toward the doors, which thankfully for the well beings of the Betas, had opened quickly.
The island was large and the number of guests was small, meaning that they soon all lost sight of one another.
Killian focused on tracking Emma’s scent. He had memorized it while they had been dancing, determined to trace it no matter how many smells were in the area.
Killian stopped suddenly when he heard Emma’s voice calling for him. He looked to where the sound came from and saw long blonde hair among some dark pink orchids. But his senses were telling him Emma had gone in a different direction. Though the perfume of the flowers was heavy, they could not hide Emma’s unique scent.
Dismissing the voice as him mishearing things and the vision as someone else, Killian followed his instincts and returned to the chase through the tropical forest.
In a short time, he caught sight of her. She ducked behind a tree, peeking out at him flirtatiously before pushing off and heading toward a clearing with a small waterfall and a pool of crystal clear water.
Emma, still at a distance from Killian, keeping eye contact with him, unclasped her dress, allowing it to pool at her feet.
Killian’s member became rock hard as his hungry gaze devoured Emma’s fully naked body.
The tips of her fingers trailed along her side. His eyes followed her path as if in a trance as he admired his Omega. But was soon brought out of it when her sultry voice promised, “If you can catch me, you can have me.”
With all of his strength and speed, he pursued the woman he desired as she bounded away with a naughty gleam in her eye.
She was quick. And quite agile. Years of having to avoid unwanted touches and containing misbehaving Alphas had made Emma’s body a finely tuned machine.
Killian was certain Emma would be caught only if she wanted to be, and that he just needed to prove he would never give up chasing her.
Killian nearly had her when he was suddenly halted by a tree branch snagging on his pants. Only the tips of his fingers were able to graze her lovely skin.
Emma giggled as she darted far from his reach.
With a growl of frustration, he tore the offending trousers from his body and continued his pursuit of his little blonde vixen.
Both completely naked now, they chased each other around the clearing.
Killian in all of his glory made Emma hesitant to test his skills for much longer.
He had already proven his determination to have her as his mate. And had revealed, in more ways than one, that he was fully equipped to provide Emma everything she needed in a mate.
Both driven by desire, him to have and her to be had, the game was brought to an end. Killian was finally able to get a hold of Emma. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, determined to never let her go.
He maneuvered them and pinned her against a very large boulder. They were both laughing at the conclusion of their little game until Emma’s backside brushed against Killian’s manhood.
They both let out a needy moan. Emma widened her legs, encouraging Killian to rub his manhood between her folds until they were both slick from her moisture.
“Do you consent?” Killian asked huskily, his lips brushing along the Omega’s ear.
“Yes.” Emma whimpered, nearly disparate to finally be claimed by the sexy Alpha.
It seemed fitting for their first time to be outside, surrounded by lush tropical foliage and the sound of the waterfall.
His instincts told him how to touch her and where.
He tilted her head back to claim her lips with his own. And used the other hand to knead and squeeze a breast.
Keeping his mouth sealed to hers, he plunged into her Omega cunny with his Alpha cock.
“Oh that feels so good.” Emma moaned, angling her hips back every time Killian thrust forward.
“Aye love, best I’ve ever felt.” Killian groaned.
It felt as though a thousand silk bands were wrapping themselves around the lovers, until their very souls were fused together, never to be severed again.
He never stopped kissing her, or touching her. He explored as much of her as he could.
“Alpha, claim me!” Emma called out. Killian was helpless to refuse. His inner beast demanded he heed the call of his true mate and bond them together forever.
The bite was the thing she needed to push her over the edge. Her walls tightened with a vise-like grip on his expanding knot.
He held her trembling body tightly, but tenderly, kissing wherever he could.
After resting a while, Killian and Emma realized that they were starving for food. They agreed that it would be a wise idea to get dressed and find out where they would be staying now that they were mated.
“Congratulations to the two of you.” The Beta hostess greeted the couple. “You passed the test of the forest. You did not become confused by the heavy perfume of the flowers. And you were not distracted by the visions the forest creates to trick unworthy Alphas. You have found your mate and can now enjoy the wonders the island provides for lovers.”
“This makes three out of three for your group. The two Omegas that you arrived with, Miss Swan, have each found a mate with the two Alphas you arrived with, Mr. Jones. We will set you up with a hut near theirs so that you can all discuss your new found happiness.”
“Oh, Emma, you have a mate now too!” Mary Margaret shouted with glee, running up and giving her friend a hug.
“And he’s a friend of your new mate.” Emma revealed with a grin.
“Really, that’s wonderful! No one will feel left out when we’re talking about mated life. And we will all have so much to talk about. And we don’t have to worry about our mates not getting along.”
“Isn’t she the sweetest? So worried about maintaining peace.” David beamed, wrapping his arm around his Omega.
“We all seem to have gotten pretty lucky. We each found a mate that is perfect for us.” Graham commented, standing behind Ruby with his arms around her.
“Looks like Mary Margaret was right.” Ruby chimed in. “This place really can help whoever wants a mate to find one.”
The mated pairs were escorted to their huts, and informed of the things that would be provided for them.
Emma would later realize she had barely paid attention to how many mated pairs there were. But to be fair, Killian was really good at keeping her attention focused on him.
In the place for eating, relaxing and being entertained, there was a collection of large chairs, “outdoor daybeds” a resort staff member informed the couples.
To Emma, they looked like large wicker baskets turned on their sides, mostly closed off except for the opening for entering and exiting. Each had a thick soft mattress and a lot of pillows.
“They’re similar to nests.” Mary Margaret observed.
“Perfect for an Omega comfort.” David smiled at his mate.
“It would seem a shame to pass up the opportunity to enjoy them to their full extent. If you’ll excuse us, Graham and I are going to keep getting in touch with our wild side. We can talk about how happy we are to be mated when we get home.” Ruby said, pulling her grinning mate with her into a daybed.
Each couple settled into one of their own and enjoyed the platters of food that were brought to them.
Live music and entertainment were provided as each couple continued to get to know one another.
Clothes were discarded as the need to press flesh to flesh grew stronger.
As they lounged together naked in the outdoor daybed, Killian brushed his fingertips around Emma’s breasts. He marveled at the beauty of his Omega. She was everything he had ever dreamed of, and more.
Emma was just as pleased with her Alpha, he was everything she wanted. Her fingertips drifted slowly down his treasure trail.
Killian’s own fingers needed to explore and caress the beauty, and made their along her most sensitive places.
He kept his eyes on her, gazing in admiration while his hand traveled down between her legs.
She gripped tight to his wrist, unsure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.
He noticed her jaw was clamped shut and understood her concern.
“You can be as loud as you want, love. I promise you that everyone else is far too lost in their own encounters to give any notice to what we are doing.”
Realizing he had a point, that no one would care what she and Killian were doing since they were no doubt doing the exact thing, Emma allowed him to continue.
With her relaxed and open, Killian proceeded to bring Emma to ecstasy. He pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed in a circular motion.
“oh!” Emma called out, her chest heaved as a warm pleasure began to build.
“This is what I long to see every day and every night for the rest of my life; your beautiful face when you're consumed with ecstasy.”
If Emma could have formed words, she would have told him she wanted to hear his voice for the rest of her life. But the very sound of it had taken her to the point of sweet bliss.
But Killian didn’t stop his ministrations. He pushed her past the point of discomfort and back to hot pleasure.
“Just take me Killian, please, I want you to.” Emma gasped as she felt herself on the verge of a second orgasm.
“Not yet, my darling. I want to see you come undone, again.”
The coil inside her wound tighter and tighter. Killian’s skilled fingers stroked Emma’s little bud with just the right amount of pressure. The coil snapped. A sweet wave of Euphoria washed over her. It was so intense that no sound could be heard when she opened her mouth to cry out.
Emma’s beauty when she was lost in ecstasy was so great that Killian just had to claim her lips with his own and thrust his tongue into the cavern of her mouth the way he would thrust his member into her quim.
She brought her hand up from gripping his shoulder to cup his head, running her fingers through his hair as she did so.
Killian continued to stroke her through, causing her body to tremble with the aftershocks.
When their lips parted for air, Emma looked into his eyes and murmured, “More.”
To let him know exactly what she meant, she moved his hand from her center. Emma then pulled Killian on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist and aligning his member to her core.
“You’re so greedy, my Omega.” Killian groaned, sliding into her. “I love it.”
Emma arched her body, throwing her head back.
“Yes!” She cried out, long past caring who could hear her in the throes of passion.
Killian may have reveled in knowing he had brought Emma so much pleasure that she had been able to forget herself, if he also had not been brought to mindless ecstasy.
Their bodies began to glisten with sweat. Each reached for something only the other could provide.
Killian became torn between wanting to fasten his lips to Emma’s, or leave her mouth uncovered so he could hear her shout her pleasure. He wanted to look at her. And he wanted to kiss every inch of her.
Ultimately, it was Emma who decided for him. Her little nips and bites along his shoulders drove him wild, taking him beyond the point of consciousness.
He took her mouth with his own, entwining his tongue with hers.
Her walls squeezed tight around his shaft, fluttering and contracting, causing his knot to emerge.
Their arms tightened around one another as their pleasure began to intensify.
Three hard thrusts into her was all it took to make them both reach that point of release.
The warmth of the island night and the heat from one another’s bodies made it easy and comfortable to sleep in the outdoor spots the couples had been provided.
Which meant that many lovers would fall asleep in one another's arms when their bodies were spent and sated, then wake naked with their equally naked mates body pressed against them. And then their carnal desire would be renewed.
Killian and Emma were in that moment between sleep and awake. The consciousness was dormant, allowing instinct to be in control.
Killian was aware enough to know his mate was naked in his arms. The primal part of him needed to have his beloved.
His hands slid over her. His body covered hers. His lips brushed along her face and her neck.
“Killian” Emma breathed his name, the sound going straight to his manhood, stirring his desire for her.
“Emma” was moaned from his lips when he joined with her.
Pure instinct controlled them both. Their movements slow and languid while their conscious minds gradually become aware.
Killian’s kisses grew deeper and lasted longer. The thrusting of his hips took on a more purposeful rhythm.
Emma’s eyes flew open and she called out as a great wave of bliss crashed over her.
Her eyes were filled with love as she looked up at Killian moving above her, making love to her.
It was the best way possible to wake up. Body filled with pleasure from the virile Alpha pumping his cock into her relaxed and willing body, and surrounded by the view of a tropical island beach.
He was just as in awe of her as she was in him.
He was amazed at how pliant she was, willing to be manipulated into any position he desired. And she seemed to greatly enjoy every one of them. He wanted to please her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life pleasing her.
“I’ll be so good to you, my love. I will fill your every moment with pleasure. And I will only stop when you tell me too.”
“Don’t you dare stop. Never stop.” Emma gasped in a lungful of air as she tried to pull Killlian deeper inside of her.
The shear curtains offered the illusion of privacy without blocking any of the breeze.
The cool air caressed Emma’s skin, soothing the flush of heat.
The mated pairs along the beach who were enjoying the same activities Emma and Killian were enjoying might as well have been on another island. For the two, the whole world was reduced to that little cabana.
Killian’s massive member thrusting into Emma’s tight heat was the only thing that existed.
“You feel so good. My sweet Omega. How lovely you look when you’re speared on my cock.”
Emma, panting and gasping, raked her claws over his arms. She loved when her Alpha talked while he took her. Her body seemed oversensitized, eager for everything her Alpha offered.
One arm under her lifted her, forcing her back to arch and bringing her plump breasts closer to his greedy mouth.
His tongue slid around her nipple then pinched it between his teeth, sending lightning bolts of sensation through her.
She dug her fingers through his hair, holding him to her as he suckled her breasts. She yanked and pulled, unable to control her movements with her body taken over by pleasure.
But it didn’t stop Killian from taking her to the very heights of ecstasy. And beyond.
The days passed quickly, seeming all to blend together as just moments of pleasure and passion.
“We’ll be going back home tomorrow. I wish we didn’t have to leave this island.” Emma sighed.
She and Killian were swaying gently in a hammock. Her head rested on his chest while he held her.
“I know what you mean, love. These past few days have been amazing. I dislike that when we go back we won’t get to spend every minute together. We’ll just have to snatch whatever fun we can when we can.”
She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “What if we’re not like this,” Emma gestured to their position, “back home.” What if it’s only the magic of the island that had made us so passionate?”
Killian’s hold on her tightened. “I told you, Emma, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you. Everything in me says we could not be more perfect for one another. And you’ll see. Our life together may not be as tranquil as it is here on the island, but it will be just as passionate. How can it not be?”
Killian took Emma’s lips with his own, and in his kiss she felt his full devotion to the bond they shared.
Then she was assured that they would always feel the passion they felt for one another during their stay on Orchid Island.
#captain swan#once upon a time#cssns 2022#cssns22#killian jones#emma swan#cs smut#captain swan supernatural summer#alpha/beta/omega verse#fantasy#captain swan fan fiction#captain swan fanfic#cs ff#cs ff au#captain swan au#grimmswanfic
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Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2022: August Round Up
Here is the second half of all the amazing pieces of art and fics that were done for the month of August. Thank you to everyone who participated this year! We could not have done it without all of you.
Here is your AUGUST 2022 @cssns ROUNDUP!!!!
August 2nd brought us @romanceapologist’s ghost ship fic The Song of the Sea - chapter 2
@undercaffinatednightmare brought us a prequel to her Once Upon a Shapeshifter fic with Emma and the Fae Queen.
@tintedfl0wers (formerly itsfabianadocarmo) brought us this thoroughly creepy folklore and supernatural aesthetic - art.
The first chapter of @teamhook’s zombie fic, Breathe Me to Life dropped on August 7th.
@pirateherokillian graced us with a sequel to Iridescent Blue with the prologue of her new fic Shades of Blue with artwork by @romanceapologist.
Beautiful dragon artwork came to us on August 14th with Emma and Killian as dragon riders by @purplehawkcaptain - art.
@stahlop gave us the first chapter of her dragon fic, A Chance to Fly with artwork by @spartanguard - chapter 2
@piinfeathers artwork of Killian as a half-fae pirate smuggling Princess Emma to help rescue them from Pan was a lovely addition to this event.
A Hotel California inspired fic, @kmomof4 brought us Hotel Neverland with artwork by @thesschesthair.
@snowbellewells gave us the first chapter of Believing Impossible Things with artwork by @o-wild-west-wind.
Mermaid art galore! @eastwesthomeisbest gave us several pieces of art work with mermaid Emma. Art 1 Art 2
All of us mods: @stahlop, @thejollyroger-writer, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, and @profdanglaisstuff thank you all from the bottom of our hearts for helping us pull this off another year. Hopefully, we’ll see you all next year for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023!
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What I’ve become
Sum: He should have lived a long and free pirate life aboard his ship with his crew. But fate had it planned the other way. If Killian had known what was going to happen to him, he would have fought harder and tried to escape. Years later, the SCA, finally caught the famous mad scientist: Dr. Gold. While Jones and his blond savior bounded quite quickly, they aren’t prepared to discover the real nature of Killian.
Also on AO3
Word : 12K
Sorry for the delay! Here are the rest of the fanart that I made for @cocohook38 cssns22 fic.
#cssns 2022#cssns22#cs au#cs fanart#mernaid!cs#hybrid!killian#killian jones#emma swan#my art#ouat fanart#once upon a time#captain swan
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just like a ghost whisperer
Happy start of CSSNS 2022! I was lucky enough to have the first posting date so of course this piece is a monster. So excited to see all the other works being shared for @cssns this year!
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SUMMARY: It figures that the gorgeous house Emma’s renting on Boston’s coast has something wrong with it. She would have preferred a leaky sink or creaking stairs — anything but the ghost of Captain Hook haunting her. Between his annoying habits and flirtatious advances, the two of them work together to unravel a murder mystery, discovering something deeper along the way.
RATING: T for language, violence, and very very mild suggestive themes!
STORY WORD COUNT: 25,031 words
TAGS: Captain Swan, CSSNS, implied/referenced child abuse, ghosts, Just Like Heaven AU, Ghost Whisperer AU, mature language, violence, and mildly suggestive themes
AO3
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hahaha this was originally going to be 3k-8k words and then four days ago i decided to add massive plot. i'm so sorry hahahaha.
***
Packing tape smells horrendous. That’s the only thought running through her head as she seals another cardboard box shut.
60 days left.
The apartment that’s been home to herself and Henry for the last four years would just be another on a long list of residences they’ve spent time in. But Emma would not be able to stomach the $400 rent increase. It’s something engrained in her from the foster system and the years following Henry’s birth, stretching her dollar as far as it would go and sometimes going without if it meant her kid could have the formula he needed. Even though she can afford the price hike now, her gut refuses to let her stay.
Plus, she doesn’t think she can handle another leasing year with Albert Spencer as her landlord. Spencer thrives on making others miserable, she swears it. He even campaigned with the local and state officials to get rid of the cap on rent hikes.
Asshole.
Someone could tell her that his other company of vehicle rentals was a front for drug trafficking and murder and she’d believe it. He had a snide look on his face the moment she first signed her lease years ago, like he was about to swindle her out of all her money. Then came the disgust whenever he saw her paying her rent like he couldn’t believe he let the likes of her rent in his building.
A list of names, addresses, and photos are probably hidden somewhere in his own dwelling and he crosses off enemies as he goes, eliminating them by kicking them out, reporting them to authorities, and/or the possibility of killing them.
She’s only joking about that last part. Somewhat.
She’s kept them here for so long because it gave Henry’s life stability and the location was ideal. Who cares if she’s probably at the top of Spencer’s list because of the complaints from her neighbor Mrs. Norberry about Henry’s late night gaming - the price on top of everything else was too good to pass up.
In fact, maybe the increase wouldn’t be so bad?
“60 DAYS, RESIDENTS!” the man himself yells from the hallway, banging on doors as he passes them and repeats his message.
Nope. Definitely need to move.
Henry hasn’t had an issue with the prospect of them moving. He goes to his part-time job at the docks after school, then comes home and finishes his homework before spending the rest of his evening on different listing sites.
“Do you even want to stay in Boston? I mean, we can go anywhere.” His excited voice echoes in her head as she takes in the half-packed apartment. Part of her wonders if she’s doing the right thing.
Constantly moving, never setting down roots - that has been her whole life. Staying in one place for too long makes her itch but that’s the last thing she wants for her kid.
Despite what her long list of driver’s license address changes might say, she wants the house with the white picket fence and the dog and everything that screamed a normal happy life in every sitcom she watched growing up. The only problem lies in the fact nowhere has ever felt like home. The closest she ever came was a small cottage town further up the coast. They got plenty of snow in the winter and the summer never got unbearably hot like it did in Tallahassee. But she was young when she was there and the locals were getting suspicious of the nights she spent in her car with Henry in his carseat so she drove right out of Florida.
Hard to believe it’s been nearly 16 years since then.
Ding!
The chime from her laptop pulls Emma from her musings and she hurries to her feet. The packing tape rolls away from her and the scissors clatter to the floor but she pays it no mind. With the rental market being as insane as the housing market right now, a minute delay in correspondence could mean she loses out on a potential apartment.
Disappointment fills her chest when she sees it’s just a reply from one of her contacts but it quickly disappears when she notices what it’s regarding.
*
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: RE: Jones
Found some info that might be related to your missing person case. It’s a few years old so no idea if it’s even worth anything but figured it didn’t hurt to send it your way.
Will
*
Emma sits up straight, shoulders tense as she reads over the protected document he attached to the email. Most of the information included are things she already knows. However, at the very end of the document, she sees a new address that belongs to the person she’s been hunting for the past two years. It’s not listed under their name on any other forms or documents. Hell, they might not even still live there but it’s a start and it’s more than enough for her to go off of.
She spends the rest of the afternoon elbow deep in research at the cramped kitchen island. They’ve been able to make do over the past couple of years with such a tiny living space but perhaps the rent increase is fate stepping in. Paperwork she has compiled for this case over the last two years covers every inch of the island, extending over to the countertops and the coffee table. She prides herself on completing her jobs, or handing the few she couldn’t over to someone who could. But this case has been nagging at her since she took it up, even if it has become her white whale.
It was supposed to be easy; family separations usually are for her. She’s a pro at finding people, even if she’s never found her own parents, and the fact that this is the one case where the separated party completely dropped off the grid without any kind of job, social media, or education over the last ten years astounds her. They must be living in the midwest farmlands where there’s nothing for miles.
The address Will sent her, however, is for right here in Boston.
After cross-referencing the legitimacy of the information, she bites her lip. Temptation to check it out for herself, to know that she can finally close this case, almost wins out but she refrains. All her client wants is the information. What they do with it after is up to them and the last thing she needs is bad reviews or word of mouth telling everyone that she inserted herself deeper into personal matters than she was hired for.
Rolling her shoulders and cracking her fingers, Emma takes a deep breath and opens her email again.
*
Hello Mr. Jones,
I am happy to inform you that I’ve received information regarding your brother’s whereabouts. I assume that you still wish to avoid discussing this over the phone but I feel this will be best shared in person rather than over email. Are you available to meet in the future to review the information further? Please let me know what times work best for you.
Emma Swan
Private Investigator
617-555-0810
P.S.: I really think we found him this time.
*
Ms. Swan,
I was delighted to see your email in my inbox this evening. I appreciate the hard work you’ve put into this case over the last two years and look forward to this newest development. Have you heard of Book & Bistro over on Chelsea Street by Constitution Marina? I’m available tomorrow at 3:30pm if that works well for you.
I cannot express my gratitude enough.
Jones
*
Emma did, in fact, know Book & Bistro. The small cafe near the harbor was where she sat while Henry interviewed for his after-school job. Its placement on the corner of a large building makes it the perfect viewing area for the boats coming into Boston. While she’s never lived anywhere that felt like home, being near the water is the closest she can get. It calms her and lets her weary bones melt into her seat.
Most of the walls of Book & Bistro are covered in bookcases filled with every genre imaginable. What doesn’t hold books holds plants, the greenery adding life to the bright and airy space to keep it from feeling sterile. It feels like a retreat and the perfect place to get lost in a sandwich and a book which was exactly what she did while she waited for her kid.
It’s exactly what she does now as she waits for Mr. Jones to show up for their meeting. She nabs A Christmas Carol off the shelf despite summer creeping just around the corner, nibbles on her BLT, and waits.
And waits.
And waits.
She checks her watch repeatedly, the minute hand slowly bringing her into the next hour. The door opens but no one even glances around the shop looking to meet someone. His email to her is the first thing she sees when she unlocks her phone, double checking the date and time.
Everything is correct. Mr. Jones should be here. The man spent months trying to get her to take his case, emailing her and even calling her one time, his accent distracting her just enough during the call that she missed his first name. (Things snowballed from there and she’s been too embarrassed and stubborn to ask for it since.)
Mr. Jones apparently had tools at his disposal to look into the search for his brother but couldn’t use them himself. Legal reasons, he had supplied and she shrugged it off. A good quarter of her clients are either hiring her from jail or have a record that any misstep could send them back. Who is she to judge with a record of her own?
Most of her means to find someone are legal, now easily figured out through social media postings. But she does have a few underhanded tricks that skirt the line of legality that any straight-laced person would shy from.
Sighing, she checks her phone again and texts Henry that she’ll be home in twenty minutes. He’s off from his job today and should be arriving at their apartment any moment now.
With any other client, Emma would’ve left a half hour ago but she decides to wait a few more minutes still.
Standing someone up doesn’t seem to be in Mr. Jones’ nature yet it’s the exact situation she finds herself in. It’s not the first time Emma’s been left in the dust by a client and it won’t be the last, but Mr. Jones’ guilt-ridden emails and pleas to find his brother leaves her surprised. She trusts her gut, her instinct being the only thing that’s kept her alive, off the streets, and away from jail again in the time since she left juvie. It tells her that his search is genuine and she can trust him.
She guesses even her gut isn’t infallible.
Pushing out of her chair and cleaning her space, Emma exits the bistro. She passes by a few emergency vehicles on the scene of an accident of sorts, nothing that uncommon in such a big city, and nods to the police officers she recognizes as she walks towards her car a block away. She calls Henry to let him know she’ll be longer than her twenty minute text message originally said. Sitting in traffic, she types up a quick email to ask Mr. Jones where he was today and if there was another meeting time that would work better before hitting send and turning up the radio to distract herself from the long ride home.
*
The apartment is quiet when she opens the door. Her keys clatter to the misshapen bowl Henry made in art class last year that sits in their entryway as she kicks off her shoes. It’s blue and doesn’t sit quite right but it reminds her of the art projects he brought home in kindergarten so she keeps it out even though he begs her not to.
“Mom, please,” he says. Clean room, nice shirt, and cologne - all signs that he was nervous about Violet coming over for their study date. “Can you please put that away?” He gestures to the bowl on the entryway table and reaches for it.
“Uh, no,” she responds. She softly slaps his hands away and stands in front of her new prized possession.
“But Violet is in my art class. She’ll know that it isn’t some project I made as a little kid. It’s embarrassing.”
“Well, if you want her to like all of you then that includes your minimal artistic talents. Seriously, stick with words, kid. Your writing more than makes up for your pottery.”
He whines and Emma imagines him stomping his feet like he did when he was small. “Moooooom.”
A sharp knock on the door interrupts them and she watches her son stand up straight and hold his head up high. He nervously runs his hands down his shirt and checks the mirror over Emma’s shoulder before giving her a look. It screams ‘Please go away’ and she decides to be merciful and hide in the kitchen as her son opens the door for his first study date.
The only thing she hears is Violet’s giggle and melodious voice as she comments, “Aw, it’s sweet your mom loves it so much she keeps it out here.”
Coming home to silence was an adjustment this year. Once Henry got his afterschool job to supplement his Fortnite addiction, often heading straight to the nearby harbor once class let out, Emma found the quiet of their apartment to be her companion more often than her son.
When summer break starts, Henry will only be home for a few days before leaving for the six-week writing program the University of Southern California is hosting for high schoolers.
It’s the longest they’ve been apart since she was in juvie. She’s tried to prepare herself for it as best she can, taking less cases while he’s home so she can busy herself once he leaves. But she knows she’s going to be lost without him and it’s not a concept she wants to deal with until he goes off to college. If then.
She shifts the pizza boxes from one hand to the other and calls for her kid only for him to come bounding out of his room with excitement clear on his face.
“Okay, hear me out,” he begins and Emma cries out internally. Henry’s taken up the habit of searching the Best of cities and searching how the housing market there compares with their budget. She’s not sure if it’s from an unstable life or his thirst for an adventure like the ones he reads in his books, but it’s becoming clear that her son doesn’t have a reason to care much for Boston. Especially after things with Violet fizzled out to just friends.
Oh God, is he trying to run from a breakup like she’d done?
Emma puts the pizza on the island, clear of yesterday’s paperwork which sits collected in a haphazard pile next to the microwave, and gives Henry her full attention as he holds his hands out in front of him like he’s calming a dangerous animal.
“How do you feel about the U.S. Virgin Islands?”
*
Five and a half weeks later…
She’s been ghosted by clients before. It’s unsurprising, given what so many of them hire her to investigate, but she’s never had a client wait two years for information just to drop their communication the moment she announces she has the final piece of the puzzle. Especially when the client is Mr. Jones.
But she brushes it off as best she can and takes on the easy cases of cheating spouses that she can work on while Henry finishes his sophomore year.
It becomes a painless routine for her.
Wake up, check apartment listings, see Henry off to school, follow scumbag spouse to insert seedy motel here and snap a few pics of them with a coworker, prostitute, or neighbor. The stakeouts are boring and she’s run out of podcasts to listen to but she keeps a vigilant eye out for movement. Apartment hunting is a pain and she’s often beaten to the lease signing by another renter.
And then Henry leaves and she surrounds herself with work. Her kid sends her sporadic video updates from the other side of the country between their lunchtime phone calls, Emma filling her calendar with cases after clearing it up for some mother-son bonding time before he left. Cardboard boxes have joined her lonely companionship with the apartment’s silence and, for someone who spent so much of her life alone, she feels empty. Having Henry consumed her entire life for the past 16 years in the best way possible. But now she doesn’t know how to have a life outside of him and his weeks away have left her floundering.
Now her main purpose lies with condensing their belongings into boxes and trying to make sure she can keep a roof over their heads. If it means swallowing her pride and signing for another year at the higher rate just so her kid doesn’t get an inkling of the uncertainty she faced at his age, it’d be worth it. All it would mean is more cases.
It’s right as her work email alerts her to a new message that Boston PD detective David Nolan gives her a call.
She knows him best from her time as a bail bondsperson when they first moved to Boston before starting her own business. He was her receiving officer more times than she can count and, according to Instagram, recently celebrated the birth of his first kid.
“Hey, David,” Emma says absentmindedly as she maneuvers her way through the growing pile of boxes. “How’s Baby Nolan?” Hearing from him is certainly a surprise, especially with a newborn at home. He’s probably wondering when she can come over for dinner one of these days. His wife insists that she and Henry join them for dinner at least once a month, though that went to the wayside with the baby along the way.
“Not letting us get any sleep, so good. Do you still need a place to stay?” David’s voice, despite sounding worn and worried, offered a pillar of strength she needed amongst her own stresses.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been holding out on a mansion just outside of the city.”
His chuckle reaches her ears and warms her chest. David’s the only man that’s never set off any alarms from her superpower and while their communication has become limited as of recently, his presence in her life is still that of a protective big brother. “Not a mansion, but definitely a place to stay for now.”
Emma perks up, her back straightening. “I’m listening. What’s the catch?”
“It’s being sublet on a month by month basis. And there’s a bit of construction on pause at the moment.”
“Meaning?”
“The owner was renovating when they ran into an unexpected incident and won’t be able to resume work anytime soon.”
Immediately, her shoulders drop. She’s not sure which condition is worse - living in uncertainty on a month by month basis or dealing in a stopped construction site. “I wouldn’t suggest this place to you unless I thought it could work,” David says soothingly. “It belongs to a family I know and they’re only asking for enough so it could help cover some of the taxes when they’re due in December.”
Emma sucks in a breath as David describes the home. Nestled in Storybrooke, a small area compiled of a couple of blocks in Nahant, the house sits at the end of a street right on the water. It has plenty of bedrooms that she won’t have to deal with any of the areas of construction and the view is incredible. Most importantly, the rent is cheaper than what she’s paying now.
“I’m in.”
*
“Kid,” Emma huffs, ear pressed to her shoulder to hold her phone as she hobbles through the front door with a box in hand. “This place is gorgeous. Half-finished, but gorgeous. I swear, David’s friend has to be a millionaire to get this property.”
Henry’s response is muddled between bites of cheesy puffs. His words only become clear once he swallows. “Think you’ll still be renting it when I finish up in three weeks?”
“Yeah kid,” she groans as she drops the box in the foyer, eyes glancing around to the kitchen and dining room to her left and the expansive living room to her right. From the way the house is positioned on the lot, nearly every window has a view of the ocean. In fact, the view from the living room’s bay window is her favorite. “We’ll have at least one week left by then before they realize how cheap they’re renting it for and decide to kick us out next month.”
“Mom,” Henry starts. She can tell he’s grinning by the way his voice changes, amused by her pessimism. “Have a little hope. Just a tiny bit.”
“You know you’ve got all the hope in the family,” she teases. “We balance each other out.”
He laughs and starts to say something before she hears chattering in the background. “Lunch is over so I’ve gotta go. Love you!”
“Love you too, kid.”
She smiles small, a gesture all for herself, as she puts her phone on the window seat. How lucky is she to have a kid like Henry? A kid who enjoys spending time with her and calling her while he’s away. Who isn’t afraid to tell her he loves her and when he misses her.
Taking a deep breath in, she looks around the living room.
This is what she wants to give her kid. The same thing she’s wanted for so long.
A home.
“The boxes won’t come in themselves…” she whispers to herself, sighing as she turns to head out to the U-Haul she rented.
Only she stops in her tracks, eyes wide and breath stolen for her as a man stands in the foyer just feet from her, open door behind him. Dressed in black leather pants, a billowing black shirt, matching velvet vest, and a black leather duster, his scruff looks artifully shaved and his blue eyes pierce into her soul. When she thinks back on this moment later, she’ll admit that the man is pure sin. A delectable treat for the eyes. But for now, she yells in surprise and rushes to grab a nearby object, the only one being a lamp. She pulls it hard into her hand, yanking the plug from the socket.
“Bloody hell!” the man yells at her. “What are you doing in my house?!”
“Your house?!” Emma nearly shrieks. “This isn’t your house!”
“Like hell it isn’t! I bought it specifically for that view there!” the stranger yells back. It’s only when he raises his left hand to point at the window behind her that she realizes he has no left hand at all. Instead, a hook protrudes from a cuff around his wrist. Her heart pounds as he leaves the hook arm up and steps closer, eyebrows furrowed in a menacing gaze. “I don’t know who you believe you are lass, but you better get off my - ”
Fight or flight instinct kicks in and Emma chooses both. She darts forward, right arm pulling back before launching forward in a punch. The action cuts off his sentence, his startled surprise at her movement the only sound she hears. Except he must have stepped back because her punch doesn’t land.
However, her escape out the open front door is now clear and she rushes past the stranger, down the porch steps and into her U-Haul. Kitchen pots and pans be damned, she can buy new ones.
*
Emma sits in the driver’s seat of the U-Haul as she watches the house, one hand on the ignition and the lamp resting in the passenger seat. The mystery man, however, never comes out. There’s something about him that doesn’t allow her to leave so she waits.
David arrives a half hour later, rushing out his patrol vehicle and to her driver’s side door in a heartbeat.
“Emma, are you okay?” he asks, eyes rovering over her person to assess any injuries.
She glares at him as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. Technically it’s David’s fault she’s in this mess. He was the one who had a friend that had a place. A place where herself and Henry were supposed to be the only occupants of. If this actually turns out to be a roommate situation with all of the bedrooms rented out, she is gonna kill him then leave. “I’m fine but I thought you said the house was empty. I need you to talk to the crazy guy in there to find out if I’m out of a place or if he needs to leave.”
“And you’re sure you’re fine?”
“Yes, David, I’m fine. Now go fix this, please.”
David rolls his shoulders and sighs, turning to head into the house with one hand resting on his gun. Aside from the fact hers is safely packed away, the last thing she would ever want is something else on her record. Things are hard enough as it is.
Silence fills the area by the truck and her continual glances around the property doesn’t show any movement or the stranger making a run for it. So she waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And honestly, if David isn’t out within the next two minutes then she’s going in, stranger be damned and–
As if reading her mind, David steps out of the house and makes his way to her side.
“All clear,” he says, hands on his hips. “No one is inside.”
“Where did he go then? No one has left,” she says, crossing her arms.
“Well, there’s always the ocean.” His joking grin is merely met with a glare so he clears his throat. “What did the gentleman look like again?” he asks, pulling up the notes app on his phone.
“Dressed in all leather, looked like a pirate.” She swallows hard before saying the next part. She knows she’s not crazy – she knows what she saw. But that doesn’t mean he won’t think she is. “And he had a hook for a hand.”
David immediately stops. He stares at his screen for a moment before his eyes meet Emma’s, scrutinizing her. Judgment complete, a sort of glee lights up his eyes, smirk playing on his lips, and she inwardly groans. “Are you telling me that Captain Hook is haunting your temporary housing?”
“I’m being serious,” she insists, slapping his arm as he begins to giggle. “I saw someone in there. They are real.”
“I didn’t see anyone. I can guarantee you that the owner won’t be around anytime soon. Are you sure you saw someone and you’re not just tired?”
She is exhausted but she trusts her gut and she knows she wasn’t alone. “David.”
The look David gives her is full of sympathy and it makes her want to cry. It took her a long time to discern the difference between sympathy and pity but David gets her and knows that pity would be the last thing she ever needed. “Look, I think you’ll be safe here tonight. Just remember to lock all your doors and windows. If you want, you can always stay on my couch until you find someplace new. You’d just have to take over my diaper changing turns.”
Emma snorts, a small smile making its way onto her face. “Nice try but no.”
“Do you want me to set up my patrol car out here and keep an eye out?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “That’s not necessary. I’ll just stay here tonight.” She adds, without any convincing, “I’m sure you’re right and I’m just tired.
He gives her a look like he doesn’t think there’s anything to look into but she ignores it. Aside from the situation with Mr. Jones, her gut hasn’t led her astray in over a decade. If it tells her that what she saw wasn’t nothing then she’s sticking with it.
The night passes slowly. She sits on the bay window, Henry’s old baseball bat in hand, and keeps an eye out for movement in the backyard while she listens for footsteps in the house. The lamp is back in its spot on the end table but she doesn’t turn it on. Instead, flames flicker from the fireplace casting a dull light over the room. There’s no furniture in the house yet, just the end table and its lamp, but she thinks this is the kind of place people make a home.
It’s quiet on the water, the waves calmly lapping against the bulkheads in a way that’s so soothing she nearly falls asleep sitting up. She catches herself being mesmerized by the glow of the moonlight on the ocean and stifles her yawns until the sun comes up.
By the time early morning rolls around, she checks all the doors and windows again before going upstairs to where her air mattress sits on the floor of the primary bedroom. Catching a few hours of sleep before David inevitably checks on her is all she can think about now.
*
Sweat trickles down her back from the July heat as she continues unpacking the U-Haul. The rental is only for another 24 hours so she needs to be done by then, even if it means paying Will in beer to get him to come move a few things for her.
The first thing she did when she woke up was take out her gun. It sits holstered on her hip and she keeps one eye out for the mystery man’s appearance as she pulls tables and chairs from the truck but it’s been quiet since she woke.
It’s not until an hour later that she sees him. The sun glints off of the water creating a glare in her vision for just a moment but it’s long enough for the man to appear.
“Hey!” she yells, pulling her gun out and aiming it towards him. Her thumb sits on the safety, ready to flick it off at a moment’s notice. “What are you doing here?!”
“Lass,” he nearly groans, glare etched deep in his features. “We covered this yesterday. This is my home so it’ll be in your best interests if you leave now.”
“You’re the one who needs to leave.”
“Don’t make me get rid of you. Leave now.”
At his threat, the safety comes off and her pointer finger sits on the trigger. “Or what?” She knows that she’s egging him on, daring him even, but she won’t let him scare her.
He steps closer, hooked arm pointed towards her from his side, and drops his voice low. “Or I will forcibly escort you off my property. It won’t be pretty.”
“Stay back.” Steady voice and still hands, she continues aiming the gun at this Captain Hook figure even as she steps away from him.
The man merely laughs and rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to shoot me.”
“What makes you so sure of that?”
“Because if you were going to then I’d already be dead.”
“Try me and we can find out.”
He growls as he speaks, saying, “Get. Off. My. Property.”
“No.”
“I tried to be nice, lass,” he says, resigned and angry. He moves towards her, hooked arm extending to her person and in a flurry of motion, she pulls the trigger.
Vibrations run up and down her arms as she stares down the man in front of her. All that echoes is the sound of the gunshot. There’s no gurgling sound that she’s heard before as someone drowns in their own blood, there’s no gasping for last breaths, there’s no thud of a body collapsing to the ground. Her aim is impeccable, constantly getting bullseyes at the shooting range. So how could she miss?
“Bloody buggering fuck! Did you just fucking shoot me?!” he yells in disbelief, head tipping down to glance at his person in a hurry before glaring at her.
“Why aren’t you hurt?” she says, mostly to herself. Worry and fear seep into her voice and she doesn’t bother masking it as the shock overwhelms her. There was absolutely no way she missed.
“I can’t believe you shot me!”
Emma snaps out of her daze at that. Blinking, she moves her gaze to meet his.
“Of course I shot you!” she yells back, eyes narrowing on the man in front of her who has trespassed on the property twice and threatened her. Neither of them have moved which is fine with her because she doesn’t think her shaky legs can hold her weight at the moment.
“What do you mean of course?!”
“You threatened me with that!” She throws her arm not still holding the gun in the direction of his left arm, the hook shining under the July sun.
His eyebrows pinch together in anger as he holds it up for her to see, his words attacking her like it was a ridiculous assumption to make on her part. “You mean my hook? It’s practically my left hand now, love. I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
“How was I supposed to know that after everything you said,” she shoots back. Then her nose scrunches up in annoyance. “And I’m not your love.”
The man has the audacity to roll his eyes at her and in a huff, she points out that he’s fine so clearly she missed.
“Oh but you were so close,” he says through clenched teeth and a narrow gaze. “Felt the wind like it went right through me.” It takes a moment for his words to register and it fully sinks in once he moves to pace, ranting about her and how she needs to leave but he won’t go near her lest she shoot him again.
Blinking wildly, she looks at the mystery man and notices the inconsistency in the shed behind him. Right behind where he stood just moments before, the white shed is marred with a black spot. Sparing him one more glance, Emma puts the safety back on and tucks her gun back into her hip holster, marching right by Hook to inspect the shed.
A hiss escapes her mouth as her fingers gingerly touch the metal of the shed only to pull them back immediately from the residual heat. Definitely her bullet then. Which means she didn’t miss Hook. So how isn’t he hurt?
A low whistle from just behind her rings in her ear and she stiffens, refusing to let the man know that he was able to sneak up on her. Instead, she keeps her eyes trained on the bullet she embedded on the shed of the house she was renting.
Fuck.
She was definitely going to have to pay for this and get the homeowner a new shed.
“You’re going to have to replace that,” the man says. Ignoring the way that his accent sends chills down her spine, she plants her hands on her hips as she faces him, one eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t ask for your commentary.”
“You’re a bit of an open book to me, love,” he says, the cheeky tone only making her want to shoot him point blank. He shouldn’t even be this close to her but for some reason she’s allowing it. Instead, she lets her other eyebrow rise up and her lack of amusement be clear on her face.
“Still not your love,” she comments, rolling her eyes. “Now leave or next time I won’t miss.”
“Ah, ah. That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not leaving my own property.”
Biting back a groan, Emma starts. “Listen here you – ”
Except her words get caught in her throat as she pokes her finger at his chest just for it to go through him.
What. The. Fuck.
The two of them stand in shock as Emma’s finger remains half inside the man’s chest. His body starts to glow around the area and she swears she can see right through him to the grass beneath their feet. It’s as if he’s becoming transparent before her eyes and she feels the blood drain straight from her face.
She really is being haunted by Captain Hook.
“Wh-what did you do to me?” Captain Hook asks with a shaky voice, his eyes fixated on her finger. She rips her finger out of his chest and the only thing she feels is a cool embrace along her skin.
“I - I didn’t do anything,” she stutters. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to argue, maybe call her a witch and demand she be burned at the stake or something, and she hates how she notices how this centuries old pirate, who probably didn’t even practice good oral hygiene while he was alive, has better teeth than her. She swallows to bring her focus back and manages to get out the words that neither of them can believe. “I think you’re a ghost.”
*
She hasn’t seen Hook since her realization the other day.
He had denied it, of course. Who wants to accept the fact that they’re dead and stuck as a ghost anyway? They spit words at each other, nasty words, and she may have wished him eternal damnation in hell, but he clearly wasn’t accepting the fact he died so maybe she could just scare him off.
Emma, though, isn’t one to take her chances. So after Hook turned and walked off – quite literally disappearing into nothingness as the sun glare from the ocean became too much – she figures that the best course of action is to discover what she should do the next time he appears. Because clearly he has some unfinished business with the property. Maybe treasure buried somewhere on it?
When she decides that her best course of research will be in obscure books that the library would take a few weeks to procure for her, she sets her sights elsewhere. Her growling stomach brings her back to Book & Bistro two days after the incident, the Reuben sandwich on their menu practically singing to her.
Belle, a short woman in tower-high heels, sensible skirt, and floral blouse rings her up before asking if she needs help finding a book to read while she eats.
“Actually,” Emma begins. Her eyes dart around the shop like she can’t believe she’s doing this but she sucks it up and asks anyway. “Do you have any books about ghosts? Err, getting rid of them specifically.”
Belle flits around the shop like she could navigate the shelves with her eyes closed, brown curls flying behind her. Something on her face must show her admiration when she’s handed a book for her small but growing pile. “I own the place,” the short brunette explains.
“Ah.”
“You might have to skip through a few passages but these four will have the most information regarding your concern.” Her smile is as white as it is wide and Emma can hear Henry in her head, joking that he’ll need sunglasses if she grins that big again.
Emma doesn’t realize she has a guest at her table until she takes a bite of her sandwich and glances up only to find Hook sitting opposite her. “Shit,” she murmurs between coughs, clearing her throat of the caught pieces of Reuben deliciousness. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses. No one in the cafe seems to be paying attention to her anymore after her coughing fit but she still doesn’t want to be seen as a crazy person. Belle’s inquisitive tilt of her head is her limit.
Still, Emma picks up her phone and holds it against her ear before turning to face Hook.
She doesn’t know why she expects him to be wearing something other than his pirate getup but he’s not. Dying in leather must mean one stays in leather as a ghost. Hopefully there’s no chaffing in the afterlife.
Ignoring the curiosity dancing across his features, Emma leans forward on the table under the pretext of studying one of her books.
“You haven’t answered me yet,” she whispers.
“Sorry love. I’m simply mesmerized by your skills,” he answers, part cheeky, part sarcasm, fully charming. His hook reaches forward as it to tap the phone and Emma holds her breath, eyeing it cautiously. She realizes now what an asshole she was, assuming that the hook was only there as a torture device and not something that was actually useful to have while on a ship.
Yes, she did her research, thank you very much. None of which ever mentioned Captain Hook being real.
“But I am here,” he continues and Emma blinks before meeting his gaze. “Because when you left today, I felt a tether linking myself to you. I was curious to test out its limits and surrendered to the pull. The next moment, I’m in the doorway of this fine establishment,” he breaks off for a second, a strange look on his face as he glances around Book & Bistro before he shakes his head and continues. “And you’re over here. I’ve felt small instances of this tether before, but never like this. And it never let me leave the property before too.”
She knows he’s telling the truth. Or at least her gut seems to think he is. Completely off her rocker or not, her gut rarely steers her wrong – Thanks Mr. Jones for ruining that streak – and it is not detecting a single lie.
“What, pray tell, are you doing here with all these lovely tomes instead of, say, at the library?” He lifts one eyebrow, an enticing look that has her leaning into his space subconsciously before she catches herself and looks at the pages before her.
“I am finding out ways to get rid of you.”
“Oi, don’t make me sound like a terrible houseguest,” he says, leaning back in his chair and tilting his chin up at her. “At least I don’t shoot other people.”
“Oh my god.”
She ignores his chuckles and spends the rest of the afternoon huddled at her table, Hook browsing over her shoulder on occasion. He disappears sometimes, where to, she has no clue, but then he comes back when she thinks of him or feels like she’s made a breakthrough and she’s not sure how to handle that. How does a ghost even get tethered to a stranger? Do they need to break the tether first before helping him move on or stop haunting the house? Her head starts to pound by the time the dinner rush comes in and she makes the executive decision to go home, Hook following or not, she doesn’t care.
*
So far she’s found no information about the tether and it leaves Emma stumped. She sure as hell doesn’t want to do anything that might hurt her. Self-preservation sits in her arsenal of survival instincts, always near the top and ready to be called on.
Unpacking had originally been her method to clear her mind. When she’s finished all of that – mainly the essentials because who knows when they’d have to leave this gorgeous home – she explores. Most of the first floor is done, the kitchen completely remodeled with light wood floors, a pale forest green on the cabinets, butcher block countertops, and the cutest white retro fridge and stove. There’s a room just to the left of the front door with windows lining all three walls. Bookcases fill the walls against the hallway and foyer, and she realizes within moments of entering that it’s a study of sorts, though the chair at the desk still looks brand new.
The rest of the floor is a gorgeous remodel that keeps the house’s original charm, from the window seat in the turret outcove to the brickwork scaling half the wall the fireplace is on, every inch of the house makes her jaw drop. That is, until she makes her way to the third floor.
The bedrooms on the second floor are in perfect condition, and the bathrooms hold the same exquisite marble slabs in the shower and subway tile backsplash by the sink. However, the third floor remains unfinished, exposed studs not clearly separating the area into defined spaces and the bathroom on this floor sits just as unfinished as the rest. Boxes of subway tile sit on the floor, supplies in front of the sink and only a few tiles actually on the way. It’s like whoever lived here before her just disappeared out of thin air.
So when she needs to contemplate what to do and she’s unpacked everything she can, she stands in the bathroom. Is it overstepping if she’s helping the owner finish what he started? Technically, she’d be a big help. Besides, one of her foster fathers worked in construction and brought her to the site to hang in the trailers when he couldn’t find a babysitter.
(Truthfully he didn’t care what she did as long as nothing interfered with his checks so she sat in on the tilers in the kitchen.)
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Emma hates to admit it but his sudden appearance makes her jump. Being a ghost and all, Hook doesn’t make any footsteps to warn of his arrival. He’s not even corporeal enough for her to attach a bell to.
“Yes,” she grinds out, putting all of her focus and then some on placing the tile in her hand onto the wall. In all honesty, she’s just glad she didn’t drop the tile. Knowing her luck, the contractor would have only bought enough to make no mistakes and it’d have been a super rare subway tile that’s been discontinued. Because, if the ghost haunting her new dwelling isn’t evidence enough, that’s the kind of luck she has.
“Your video device is proof of that?” He nods to her phone propped up on the counter playing a YouTube video.
“That’s it!” she exclaims in anger after pressing the tile on. “I am going to get rid of you even if it’s the last thing I do!”
“Last thing you do? Is that you wanting to spend an eternity with me, love?”
She can hear the smirk on his face in the way he presents his flirtations and it just makes her groan as she gets up and makes her way down the stairs to her room, but not before yelling out behind her. “And I’m not your love!”
*
The exorcist is first. Father Gold isn’t from a local church, as none of the ones in the immediate area have a priest readily available to perform such a task, but he comes dressed in his black robes and collar, a bottle of holy water in one hand and a silver crucifix in the other.
“Afternoon, Miss Swan,” Father Gold starts. She hears an echo of Hook in the kitchen practicing ‘Swan’ on his lips in different accents and it hits her that she never told him her name. Then Father Gold continues talking to explain what he’ll be doing. There’s an unease in her stomach as she listens, nodding along when appropriate.
At first, she thinks it’s because she feels bad for doing this to Hook. He’s not a bad guy, she’s come to accept. Just because he’s a nuisance doesn’t mean that she wants him to be melted with holy water. Still, she doesn’t interrupt Father Gold’s preparations.
It’s not until he starts (“May the power of Christ compel you!”) that she realizes the pit in her stomach is from Father Gold himself. He sweats like a sinner in church and from the way he stumbles over his introductory prayers, she initially puts it all down to nerves. She’s heard the stories, the difficulties of such tasks, but there’s something else with him. Something slimy about Father Gold.
“Have you even vetted your exorcist, Swan?”
Emma turns her head to see Killian standing beside her and watching as the priest holds his crucifix up near the fridge, the complete opposite side of the house they’re standing at, and waving his bottle of holy water in the air. Water droplets fall onto the wood and she can see Hook wince from the corner of her eye.
“You know you’re wiping that up, right? Too much water on these floors and it’ll warp the hardwoods.”
“Shut up,” she says from the corner of her mouth. Neither of them move from their spot, watching as Father Gold’s prayers increase in volume and passion and Emma’s face twists in disgust. “Is he even trying?” she asks herself, jumping slightly when she hears Hook’s snickering from her side.
She ignores him, refraining only just from rolling her eyes, and instead thanks the priest for his time once he’s finished, handing over the money donation for the church that Father Gold looks too eager to collect.
“You realize he was the one who needed an exorcism, right?”
“Shut up, Hook.”
“As you wish,” Hook begins, his gaze quickly darting down to the paperwork on the kitchen table. “Emma Swan.”
She likes the way his tongue works over every individual letter of her name. It’s like he caresses each letter like they’re his lover and it leaves her flushed, wondering what other things his tongue can do. Filing that thought away for later, she heads to her current bedroom, one that was probably Hook’s long ago, and makes her next call.
*
Zelena, the medium someone recommended on the NextDoor app, is as crazy as her curls suggest. Gorgeous red hair flows down her back in ringlets, the same kind of red Emma tried dying her hair to in middle school with Kool-Aid. The main difference lies in the fact that Zelena’s is completely natural… and that’s about the only positive thing she can say towards the woman.
The medium enters the house in a flourish, sniffing the air repeatedly before stopping in the living room. Hook eyes them suspiciously from where he lounges on the couch and Emma does all she can to not roll her eyes at his eyebrow raise.
“Hmm…” Zelena says, sniffing the air again. “Yes, yes. There is definitely a spirit here.”
“Yeah, I know,” she deadpans. “That’s why I called you.”
“Oh,” the redhead says, a smirk growing on her features as she steps closer to the center of the living room. “It’s a young spirit. One of a man.”
Hook sits up from his seat on the couch, instantly intrigued. He looks past Zelena to her and says, “She knows what she’s talking about.”
Glaring at him, Emma turns to Zelena with her hands on her hips. “So how do I get rid of him?”
“Let yourself…” The medium pauses, running her hands up and down her boy in frantic yet sensual motions. “Be free with him.”
Like the cat that caught the canary, Hook’s grin is wide and his eyes keep darting to her face but she refuses to acknowledge the flush that’s taken over her skin. Blaming it on anger seems like the easiest escape route. “You’re not seriously suggesting I offer myself up for ghost sex?!”
“Oh, I like her.”
“It seems that your ghost has some pent up issues,” Zelena says.
Crossing her arms, Emma glares at Hook, eyes sharp as daggers. “Clearly.” The pirate merely smirks and leans back into the couch again.
“I have reason to believe that he is… emotionally constipated, if you will.” It takes every ounce of acting ability that she’s honed over her years of bail-bonding and private investigating to not laugh out loud at the way that Hook’s face drops. “His inability to connect with someone of flesh before he passed on is preventing him from moving on. He regrets his failure to experience that action.”
Fighting to keep the amusement out of her voice is a spectacular failure but not one that Emma cares much for losing. She eyes Zelena and just barely keeps her smirk at bay. “So you’re actually suggesting I take a ghost’s virginity?”
“Why yes, dearie, exactly that.”
“Swan! She doesn’t know what she’s talking about!”
Emma grins wide at her and places her hands over her heart, an attempt to look far more sincere than she is. “I’m so glad you know what you’re talking about.”
She steps aside and watches as Zelena prances around the living room, herbs and incense being waved about as the medium speaks to the ghost in her living room, asking him to open himself to them. Said ghost sulks in his seat, glaring at the redhead while he interjects every few sentences to assure her that while he’s not certain of many things, he’s certain he’s very practiced when it comes to enjoyable activities with a woman on her back.
Handing Zelena the fee for her appointment feels a lot like handing money to Father Gold. Both with underhanded motives and slimy smiles and ugh she just hopes their tactics work and are only experiencing a temporary delay, and she’ll wake up tomorrow with Captain Hook out of the house.
“For your information love,” Hook starts the moment Zelena leaves. He practically jumps out of the chair as he approaches the foyer where she stands, looking at her from under his eyelashes, tongue sneaking out to wet his bottom lip. “While I am no blushing deckhand, she may have had a point about – ”
“Absolutely not,” Emma cuts him off, face screwing up in disgust. “Entertain yourself with your hook instead.”
There has to be another option.
*
She has gone crazy. That is the only reason she actually scheduled an appointment with so-called ‘Ghostbusters’.
Greg and Tamara walk around the first floor of the house, the black machines strapped over the shoulders of their tan jumpsuits humming loudly and emitting various beeps at random. Hook stands by the bay window, eyes trained on the ocean just beyond the glass. He looks at ease there. Tension leaves his shoulders and if he could breathe, she imagines him taking long, deep breaths.
Much like the previous attempts, the two she’s dubbed as Ghostbusters Lite have no clue what they’re doing. They yell to each other from opposite sides of the first floor about the readings on their machines. The two of them inch closer to her basement door and Hook just raises his eyebrow at her like he can’t believe they’re actually letting these two go through with their scheme.
Greg and Tamara join at the basement door and do a show of yelling, shaking, and lights from their machines before they finally stop and take heaving breaths. “I believe we’ve got ‘em,” Tamara says as she wipes an imaginary bead of sweat from her forehead.
“Oh?” Emma says with feigned interest. She makes a show of a slow perusal of the first floor, narrowing her eyes only fractually as Hook remains by the window giving her the most unimpressed look she’s ever seen.
“Still here, love.”
“Yeah!” Emma suddenly says, grinning wide at Ghostbusters Lite as she digs in her purse. “I think you did too! Thank you!”
She hands the money to Greg and he counts it in front of her, his eyebrows furrowing as he sees she gave him the exact amount they agreed upon. “What? No tip?”
*
She refuses to tell David.
The last thing she needs is to have him concerned that she needs to do a stint under medical supervision for hallucinations. God, and she doesn’t need him laughing at her attempts to be rid of the ghost of Captain Hook.
Henry, however, is a different story.
“Is the place really haunted?” he asks the next afternoon after she lets slip about Ghostbusters Lite and their complete failure.
“I - uh,” Emma looks over at Hook standing in the bay window again, hand and hook clasped behind his back and posture straight as a board. “Yeah, kid, it is. But I’m trying to get rid of it.”
“Why?” She knows she shouldn’t, and she wouldn’t have if they weren’t over the phone, but she smiles at the whine in her son’s voice. For as much as he’s growing up, it reminds her of when he was younger and wanted to stay up to read just one more chapter, one more comic book, play one more level on his video game. Now he doesn’t have a bedtime, acting as self-sufficient as any adult. “Ghosts are cool,” he tries to reason. “Plus, it’s perfect writing inspiration when I get back. I could totally turn this into a science-fiction book or a horror novel. Mom, please don’t get rid of the ghost!”
“Henry,” she warns. “There is no way that I am going to let a ghost hang around the house annoying me – ”
“ – I beg your pardon! – ” Hook chimes in.
“Just because it might serve as inspiration for a book. Nice try kid, but no.”
“Moooooom!”
“I said no. Now,” she sinks down into the couch, happy she’s pulled the curtains back on the French doors so she can see the calming ocean waves from her perch, “tell me how your workshops are going.”
*
“You’re doing it wrong.”
“What are you talking about? I’m doing it just fine.”
“You’ve messed up the pattern, love.”
“No, I haven’t. I’m following the pattern exactly.”
“Yes, if whoever’s planning this work wants that wall’s design to be backwards.”
“Ughhhh!”
Emma stands up in a quick motion, hastily pulling her gloves off and throwing them to the floor. She angrily swipes at the hair that’s falling out of her bun and into her face and glares at Hook. If he weren’t dead already, he would be from the way her gaze burns him to the core.
“I am done! I don’t know how I’m doing it and I don’t care but I will be rid of you!” she shouts to the ghost relaxing against the third floor bathroom framework. “Come on now, Hook, don’t be shy. Tell me your unfinished business so you can leave me alone.”
He snarls, pushing himself off of his perch and standing straight. “No. I am not leaving my house, be it in my life or in my death.”
“Well you’re going to have to because I am not going to entertain a ghost for my summer!”
“Then you can leave!”
“You’re the one who needs to leave! Go find the light or the fiery pits of hell, I don’t care! Choose one and go!”
“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO!”
His chest heaves as if he’s struggling to breathe and she watches as he swipes his thumb against his lips, fury coming off of him in waves. For as much as their first interactions were full of yelling, she’s never heard him shout like this. With so much pain and anger. Not at her, though, but at himself. She imagines that this is the kind of feeling that he’d latch onto as a villainous pirate captain pillaging and plundering enemy ships. Vivid imagery of the hook coming out as a weapon rather than a hand comes to mind. He’d threaten his enemies with the point of the hook to their necks, use it to slice their stomachs open wide, dangle them from it over the side of the ship.
Blue eyes searching for the words he can’t bring forth, he drops his head in defeat. “I – I…” He makes a noise of frustration from the back of his throat. “There are things that I know and I don’t know why I do. But I do. Frivolous things like Netflix and the hairdryer! But I don’t recall a damned thing about my own life. Bloody hell, it’s like sailing through a fog.”
He paces back and forth in the unfinished third floor, tracing the steps again and again as he runs his fingers through his hair and taps his hook against his hip.
“You clearly remember enough to criticize my tiling.” Except her joke doesn’t land. She’s never been one to know what to do in emotional situations. Growing up, no one was at her side or holding her hand through it. Henry she could handle because he’s her kid so it’s different. Still though, there are more than enough moments where she struggles through it. Emotional breakdowns from the ghost haunting her house? She has no clue what to do but put her foot in her mouth.
“No.” He stops his pacing to snarl at her, his upper lip twisted to bare his teeth. “You have no idea what it is like to see a tendril of what might have been your life and go after it just to have it slip through your fingers leaving you adrift.”
“You have to figure out how to remember so that you can move on!”
“Pray tell, how do I do that, Emma? Since you seem to know bloody well everything else!” His anger is met with silence because she doesn’t know how. How can she help a ghost from hundreds of years ago remember?
His voice becomes increasingly hysterical and desperate as he stalks towards her, fire ablaze in his eyes. “I have no bloody clue who the hell I am or anything about my life. So stop forcing me out of the one place I do know. Because I’m not leaving.”
It’s not like it’s her fault that he’s stuck as a ghost in limbo. She didn’t do anything to cause that and she’d appreciate it if he’d stopped acting like she did.
Clenching her hands into tight fists at her side, she straightens her shoulders and stands tall. He will find that she can be defiant too.
She imagines he plans on striding downstairs, his leather duster swishing behind him as he gets in the last word but she won’t allow it. Instead, she bitterly lets out, “Join the club,” and steps right past him.
*
Memories of her past don’t haunt her dreams anymore. Or at least, they haven’t in so long that she forgot what they are like.
Tonight, she revisits her time with the Langston family and the mother who could barely keep herself upright from how badly she ran herself ragged for the other foster kids they accepted and the father who would be more concerned with how many beer cases or cigarettes he could purchase with the state checks. Mrs. Langston tries her best and has good intentions at heart but Mr. Langston looks at them with dollar signs in his eyes and for some kids even worse thoughts. The worse she has ever gotten from Mr. Langston has been when he uses her as his ashtray.
Most times she’s able to dodge out of the way of the cigarette butt touching her skin, her clothes filling with holes and burn marks that she tells teachers are from her playing with matches (that’s more likely to get her to a different foster home than anything of truth). Once she’s not quick enough. She’s not paying attention and his hand comes down and he burns the skin below her collarbone with his cigarette and he holds it down there like he knows what he’s doing and wants to dig as deep into her skin as he can.
The pain is searing hot and steals her breath instantly. She’s 12 but her wails remind her of that of an infant’s. No one comes to her aid.
Mr. Langston finally lets up and tells her to shut up and she weeps silently as she makes her way to the bathroom to do what she can for the wound. Mr. Langston wouldn’t dare spend a moment for her well-being, much less a dollar for a trip to the doctor and she’s seen what he does to Mrs. Langston when he feels she’s stepped out of line.
So she grabs the ointment after doing what she can to clean the wound and applies it gently. Except it feels like it won’t stop hurting so she rubs harder and harder, ignoring the pain and the tears that spring to her eyes and the way that she feels like she’s drowning in her sobs. She rubs and rubs and rubs until she sees blood.
And then she wakes up.
She sits up in bed with a gasp and feels the lingering burning sensation from her dream over the skin below her collarbone.
“Does it hurt?”
Emma’s eyes dart up to see Hook sitting in the bay window in the bedroom. Situated directly above the one on the first floor, it offers up an even better view of the water. The only thing is that he’s not looking at the water but at her.
“Huh?” she asks.
“That,” he answers with a nod of his head towards her chest. Furrowing her eyebrows, she looks down a moment later to see she’s been absentmindedly rubbing at the scarred skin.
“Oh.” She forgets he’s there as she continues to gently rub the spot until he comes to sit beside her on the bed. “What are you doing?”
“How’d it happen?” His voice is quiet and Emma takes a moment to study him.
She thinks a part of the reason she so badly wants him to move on is because growing up, death meant freedom. Not that she ever did anything to herself, but she always viewed death as being the only time she’d find peace since life wasn’t granting her any growing up.
And then she had Henry and life with him, amidst all the chaos, is as close to peace as she’s ever felt.
But for when the day comes, she doesn’t want to be a ghost stuck in limbo without a clue of the past. She wants to be able to move on to resting for eternity and be at peace.
Taking her silence for hesitance, he speaks softly, the softest she has ever heard from him. She supposes that she must have been thrashing and yelling in her sleep, something she hasn’t done in over a decade, and even ghosts take pity on the living. “I don’t remember much but I do know wounds that are made when we’re young tend to linger.”
Hair slips over her shoulder, covering the burn mark, and she watches with baited breath as Hook acts on instinct, leaning forward and collecting the hair with his hook to push back over her shoulder. Except his hook doesn’t collect any hair, instead going right through it. He frowns and apologizes as he steps back, coughing awkwardly and scratching at the back of his ear while she sits up straighter in bed focusing on the cool, soothing sensation his action has left on her body. She can’t explain it but it was like she felt him in a way.
Her thoughts start to overwhelm her as they jump from one conclusion to another and she feels herself losing control. Clearing her throat, she brings her knees to her chest and looks over at Hook’s awkward form in the doorway. He turns, giving her his full attention.
“We’ll figure out how to get your memories back,” she promises quietly.
Hook’s answering grin is rueful as he says, “Aye.” Once he leaves the room, a heavy weight settles in her stomach. Emma just found a new white whale.
*
Her last correspondence with Mr. Jones sits at the top of her email, pinned for her convenience and curiosity. The fact the man just disappeared off of the face of the planet right when she gets the information he wants baffles her. Her unsolvable case has been solved and yet she’ll never be able to share it since Mr. Jones has decided to ghost her.
Ugh, between Captain Hook and Mr. Jones, she has enough ghosts in her life.
She sends him one final email, wishing that he is well and that she has the information ready to be handed over when he returns from his absence, noting the final balance they agreed upon when she sent over contracts for her services two years ago. Hitting send, she takes a deep breath and decides to spend her afternoon researching how to help a ghost with no memories move on.
Search results focus on fighting one’s inner ghosts and famous ghosts in media; a part of her is hoping she’s been dreaming everything since her first return to Book & Bistro and this is her mind’s twisted take on A Christmas Carol but she knows that this is real. It’s as she’s reading through an article from a faux ghost hunting show that she gets an alert for a new email.
*
Hi Emma,
My name is Ruby Lucas and I was hoping you could help me with something. Do you have an office or somewhere that we can meet?
*
The two women agree to meet at Book & Bistro which, Emma realizes, is quickly becoming her go-to spot. She’d deny it if she had any real friends but part of her hopes to run into Mr. Jones here. Not that she knows what he looks like, but maybe it’ll be like fate and she can finally close the door on that case.
She takes a seat at one of the tables outside the lunch eatery, pulling out a chair beside her to put her bag on only to find Hook swiftly snatching it up as his own. She glares at him and drops her purse down anyway, smirking slightly at the oof from the weird feeling it caused as it went through him.
Ruby strolls up to the table moments later in skintight red jeans and black tank top, her black leather jacket making Emma sweat in the summer heat.
“Oh, she’s real,” Hooks says, his tone downright seductive as he licks his lips. A jumble of emotions play in her stomach, some that she doesn’t dare name, so she pushes them as far down as they’ll go and focuses on her annoyance.
“Really?” she deadpans. “We’re helping her solve her boyfriend’s murder.”
“Don’t worry, love,” Hook continues, the cheeky grin on his face growing as he notices the flush in her cheeks. “You’re still the most beautiful woman here.”
“Oh shove it.”
“Hi! Emma Swan, right?” Ruby’s cheery voice greets and Emma immediately stands, holding her hand out for the gorgeous woman to shake.
“Yes, and you’re Ruby Lucas?”
“That’s me, unfortunately,” the black-haired beauty said, rolling her eyes.
“I’m sorry about Billy,” Emma offers.
Ruby’s smile is small and sad, her eyes glistening until she blinks the tears away. “Thanks, me too.”
She looks around the area, glad for the sounds of the boats to block their conversation from any outside observers, with Hook being the exception. Still, she leans forward when she speaks. “Can you tell me more about what’s going on?”
Ruby pulls strength from a well-fortified part inside of her as she tells Emma everything.
She’d been dating Billy for about a year and a half when he was killed and his former employer is starting to point fingers at her since her first, and only other, boyfriend also died. “A bee sting, believe it or not,” she shares, resigned to the heartbreak life has dealt her.
Billy was different though. No allergies, no drugs or rival gangs like what she ran into when she found her mother. Billy was as straight and narrow as they come, the sweetest man in the world, and who Ruby thought she’d spend her life with. Or so they both thought.
“You see, he’s a mechanic and was saving up to get his own garage. He wanted to be able to buy me a ring first though,” she says with a wistful smile. “So he got a second job transporting cars for this old guy. His company seemed legit – Billy always researched everything to a point where it could get annoying,” she huffs out a laugh, “but he wanted to be sure. And everything checked out.”
Tension flows over the table as Ruby looks down, fiddling with the rings on her fingers before she gathers the courage to continue. “Then one day he shows up dead in an alleyway and there’s no explanation. His boss keeps implying I hired someone to kill him to get his savings or some bullshit and the cops have questioned me three times already and I just know it has something to do with his job but I don’t know how to prove it. That’s why I need your help.”
The plea in Ruby’s voice hits her straight in the chest and Emma doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until she eyes Hook from beside her and he nods in agreement. She blinks and shakes her head, wondering when she started looking for him for his opinion and instead focuses on Ruby.
“What have you tried so far?”
“Don’t laugh, okay?” Ruby waits for her nod before continuing. “I can feel his presence around me sometimes. Like he hasn’t moved on yet and I don’t think he will until we solve his murder.” She sighs, eying Emma’s face of shock before saying in a hushed and shameful tone, “I even hired a medium hoping that she could connect with him but he’s been too elusive.”
She doesn’t mean to, truly. The laugh that escapes her mouth is a complete accident but Emma can’t help but find humor in the irony. Ruby stands up quickly from disgust and gathers her items into her purse, jarring Emma back into reality and she shoots her hand out to grab the other woman’s arm.
“Wait! I wasn’t laughing at you! I promise,” Emma rushes to explain. “Trust me, you’ll laugh when I tell you what was so funny. And then I can help you.”
*
Ruby snorts, pulling her strawberry milkshake from between her lips as she starts laughing. Emma hands over a pile of napkins through her own giggles and Hook sits there unamused even though their guest can’t see him.
“So let me get this straight,” Ruby says as she finally calms down. “I have been desperately trying to get in contact with my dead boyfriend for over a year with no luck and you have a pirate captain haunting you that you can’t get rid of?”
“Sounds about right,” Emma grins.
Ruby takes a sip from her milkshake before asking as innocently as a sinner, “Is he hot?”
The look Emma gives her in return is as friendly of a glare that she’s willing to give new clients and/or friends. “He’s sitting right beside me.”
The other woman simply smirks, reaching for her drink once again. “I’ll take that as very.”
“Can we keep her around?” Hook asks from his seat and Emma rolls her eyes. She goes to kick his shin but instead only feels a cool sensation again before her toes slam into the chair. “Wish all you might but you can’t touch me, Swan.”
“I hate you,” she glares but neither holds much heat.
Ruby watches with interest but says nothing for the rest of the appointment.
*
Irony seems to run everything about Ruby’s case because when the woman hands Emma information regarding Billy’s employment at his second job, the first thing she notices is who the owner is.
Albert’s Automotive & Boat Transports. Owned by one Albert Spencer.
Of course once she gets out from living under his thumb, she’s almost immediately thrust into investigating his company.
She always knew there was something wrong with his company and now it’s led to someone’s death. A very innocent someone at that. So she starts collecting every piece of information she can find about the company through both legal and illegal means. Employee lists, registered vehicles, routes, customers. If it appeared on the internet at any point in time, she nabs it.
From the tip of things, the company operates like a well-oiled machine. Not a single bad review, no late arrivals, not even a scratch on any vehicle. All of which shouldn’t be suspicious but are. No company is that perfect, no matter what measures are in place. Especially when only one employee has ever been recorded as taking a sick day.
Just over two months ago, one Barrie Rogers is recorded as going on an extended medical leave. No reasoning as to why, no doctor’s note or incident report. Just a flag in his closed file. Her gut tells her that Billy’s death runs deeper, that there’s so much more going on and that Barrie Rogers is connected somehow. She will find out.
The first course of action she takes is visiting the scene of the crime.
A little over a year after Billy’s death most of the blood in the alleyway is gone though some stains are still visible. The sight churns her stomach.
She’s passed this alleyway more times than she can count, perfectly placed smackdab in the middle of her route from the old apartment to Henry’s job at the docks. The first few weeks after Billy’s death, when the stench of blood and other bodily fluids permeated from the tiny space behind the police tape, she’d hold her breath, avert her eyes, and speed walk right by it. Knowing Ruby and what she’s shared about Billy, she feels bad about that now.
“This feels… familiar,” Hook says behind her as he looks around the alleyway.
“That’s great,” she says, her tone odd and distracted. As much as she’s going to help Hook remember who he was and what’s keeping him tethered to this world, she needs to keep her focus on Ruby’s case. Cops breathing down her client’s neck is never a good sign but at least this time her gut agreed with her initial thought that Ruby is innocent.
“No, there’s something about this alleyway…” Emma goes to ask him to be quiet as she reviews the area when she notices the look on his face. His eyebrows press together in deep concentration as his hand ghosts over the brick wall marked with the last of Billy’s blood.
“Do you think you knew Billy somehow? Maybe you shared the same haunts?”
She sucks in a breath at that, closing her eyes and mentally chastising herself for the accidental pun. She simply wanted to ask if his ghost perhaps ended up at the same places as Billy before it became tethered to her. When she opens her eyes, though, it’s like Hook hasn’t even heard a word she’s said. “Hook?”
The man in question stands stock still, frozen on the spot with his eyes wide in horror. “I know this alleyway,” he repeats absently. “I’ve been here before…”
Approaching him slowly seems like the best course of action as his head swivels this way and that, taking stock of the area. Her hand reaches towards him, stopping just short of the arm she knows she’ll go through, and says as calmly as she can, “Hook, maybe you should leave?”
He looks up at Emma with a fear-stricken expression consuming his features, finally noticing her presence. Gazes locked, his fear slowly melts away and he coughs, shaking his head and scratching behind his ear. “Apologies, love. I don’t know what came over me.”
She eyes him warily as he rotates his neck. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Positive!” he says with the fakest grin she’s ever seen. He doesn’t want to dwell on whatever just happened and she isn’t one to push so they move on. “What - uh - what exactly are you looking for here?” She watches him wave his hook hand around before tilting his head and investigating a pile of trash from afar.
“I don’t even know,” she says. “I guess I was just hoping something would come to me. There’s no cameras that catch this alleyway. I used to live in an apartment building a few blocks down and the police always had a tough time catching crime here. They installed a camera a couple times but it kept getting knocked down.” She sighs, eying the wall where Billy spent his last moments and turns to leave.
“Are you positive there’s no cameras?”
“Yeah. Come look.” Emma motions for Hook to follow her to the edge of the alleyway and she points out the different cameras on the nearby storefronts and explains their vantage points. “Anyone that lives around here knows there’s no cameras to catch the actual alley.”
“You’re not afraid of being here during the day?”
She releases a humorless laugh and shakes her head. “They might not catch the crime but during the daytime, those cameras will catch whoever’s leaving with ease. Unfortunately for Billy, he was killed at night.”
“Hm…” Hook hums to himself. He turns in a circle, looking up at the balconies with interest.
“Don’t even bother,” she says. “None of the residents heard or saw anything.”
He ignores her though and keeps looking, stepping back towards the mouth of the alleyway. He stops a few feet away from a second floor balcony where flower pots circle the edges, blooms falling through the railing.
Hook turns back to her in glee and points up. “Swan, is that what I think it is?”
Emma hesitantly steps closer. She’s learned not to raise her hopes too high in the middle of a case but his joy is contagious. Eying him warily for another moment, Hook raises his eyebrows at her and she rolls her eyes and looks up.
Right into the lens of a hidden camera.
Bingo.
*
“I can’t believe you knew to look there,” Emma says breathlessly as she rushes up the stairs of the apartment building. “How did you even figure that?”
“A pirate knows all the best hiding spots, love,” he teases with a smirk that she can’t even find it in herself to be annoyed with. It’s endearing, almost, to have him by her side as she works the case. He’s handling things like a champ though she guesses there’s quite a bit of intelligence required to come out on top of a band of pirates and lead them successfully.
When they reach the desired apartment, Emma knocks in quick succession against the wood, glancing at Hook apprehensively. The wait couldn’t be more than a few moments but it stretches like years. Taking care of bad guys? No issue. Having to deal with everyone else? She’s not the biggest fan of.
Probably why most of the PTA at Henry’s school hates her.
The wide oak door is dwarfed by the large man that opens it, though he does so only fractionally. He stands tall, built wide, and long curly hair frames his face. He only lets part of his face be seen as he crouches behind the door. Voice skittish, he calls, “What do you want?”
Sparing only a glance at Hook, taking note of his inquisitive expression all the same, she says, “My name is Emma Swan and I’m a private investigator. I’d like to speak with you about something your camera might have caught.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he rushes to say before moving to shut the door.
Emma sticks her foot out to stop the door from fully closing. “Your camera may have caught a murder and by helping me, you can put a guilty man behind bars so he doesn’t do it again.”
The man eyes her, scrutinizing everything he sees so she jumps at the chance again.
“Look, I could have gone to the police to tell them and let them take your camera and whatever else from this apartment that might be deemed as evidence, like your computers,” she says, pointing to the elaborate desktop setup behind him, “Or you can let me in, we review the camera footage, and if it has what I’m looking for then you can make me a copy and I won’t say a word.”
Unsure what to do, he steps from foot to foot before sighing and opening the door wider. “Fine. Just – don’t touch again! The things here are precious collectibles.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she says with a fake grin. Hook follows in behind her, shoulder going through the door which makes the pirate grit his teeth. She shrugs a sorry in his direction before standing at the man’s desk. “What’s your name?”
“Family calls me Tiny.”
“For the irony?”
“No,” Tiny says in all seriousness. “Because I’m the smallest in the family.”
“Oh.”
“What am I looking up?”
“I feel like I’ve been here before too…” Hook says as he looks around the room. He walks around, inspecting the collectibles as Emma gives the details of Billy’s death. When Hook stops on a particular item – a pirate whose sword looks recently glued on – Emma inquires to both stranger and ghost.
“What’s up with this?” she says, pointing to the figure. Tiny rushes over and gently directs Emma away from the display.
“That, ma’am, is a one-of-a-kind original concept Captain Hook.” He grumbles to himself once back at his desk. “Someone broke it and I finally found the sword the other day. Now, I have the video you asked for. An undercover cop came by about three months ago asking for the footage too. Didn’t even know I had it. But I can make you a copy.”
“What’d the cop do with it?”
Tiny shrugs. “I’ve got no idea. Seemed like an upstanding dude but I haven’t heard anything since.”
Emma drops it at that, knowing that the legal system, like other government systems, doesn’t always operate like it should. She drops herself down into the chair besides Tiny’s and listens as he explains that the video is graphic and sickening to watch. He says he won’t pull any tricks on her and just give her the exact copy if she feels she can’t stomach it. But she’s never done anything without being able to vouch for it first so she shakes her head and insists he presses play. Tiny must have already seen the video, probably with the undercover cop, and turns his head away. “I can’t watch it,” he says quietly with a shake of his head.
The video is grainy for a few moments before the picture becomes clear. The camera’s night vision mode turns everything to green and black hues but Emma spots a young man she can only assume to be Billy in a mechanic’s jumpsuit standing against the alley wall.
Billy checks his watch, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground until another figure enters the video feed.
Albert Spencer.
The bastard himself comes towards Billy irate. She can just barely make out the way their mouths move in the silence but she understands that Spencer is questioning the disappearance of some drugs, apparently, something which Billy has no clue about. Spencer grows angrier and angrier by the second as Billy grows more defensive until Spencer grabs the young man by the neck and slams him into the wall. She sees the glint of metal on the feed and watches as Spencer spews nasty words to Billy, the younger man choking out more denials, before Spencer slices his neck, stepping back before a drop of blood can touch him. Instead, he spits beside Billy’s rapidly dying body, a pool of blood forming under him, and walks out of the alley with his head down and no one the wiser.
He left Billy to die amongst trash while he walked free without any remorse.
Until now.
Revulsion doesn’t even begin to cover the feelings swirling in Emma’s mind after watching the video. Her gut always rebelled against Albert Spencer, something in the way he held himself that made her wary. For all her jokes about the man murdering someone, she never thought she’d actually see it.
Bile rises in her throat and she excuses herself to the kitchen after swallowing it down, pacing back and forth as she fans herself. Hook follows her, standing in the doorway like a pillar of strength she can collapse into if need be. Not that she could, because of his whole ghost predicament, but the sentiment slows her racing heart. As terrible as the situation is, his unyielding support makes all the difference.
Disgust, frustration, injustice, heartbreak. The list goes on and on but she keeps a single-minded focus on securing the video and making her own copy in case the one from Tiny ever falls into the wrong hands. Just holding onto the video evidence feels like a weight is lifted off of her shoulders with a heavier one dropped in its place.
She sucks it up, giving Tiny her thanks once again, and leaves to go back to the house with Hook following silently behind her.
“You’ve been quiet,” she comments.
“Doesn’t this feel… wrong?” he asks, gesturing to the DVD.
She almost corrects him, almost explains the functions and ability of a DVD when she realizes that he can read her like an open book. The same discomfort she feels is reflected on his face. Neither of them seem to be a fan of holding onto graphic video evidence of murder.
“Listen, I don’t like having a copy either. But we need a backup in case going to the cops doesn’t work.”
Preparing herself for a lengthy discussion about financial influence and politics and how that plays into the law system, Hook just nods his head and drops the subject.
“What? No counter?”
“On a matter much less grave than this, you can count on my opposition,” he teases before sobering. “I trust you, Swan. If you say this is necessary then it is.”
“Oh. Okay,” Emma says, dumbfounded. “Got it. Thanks.”
No one besides her kid has ever placed their trust in her without question or without demanding she prove herself. Hook stands beside her like it’s the most natural thing to do, the obvious choice, and her breathing becomes stuttered before she regains control over herself.
*
That night, as Emma waits for a reply from Ruby about the evidence, she joins Hook at the bay window with two tumblers of rum.
“I don’t even know if you can drink this but… This is all the cabinets had and I feel like we should embrace the nice night,” she says when she takes her spot beside him and places a tumbler in front of Hook.
“This is my rum,” he says incredulously when he catches a glimpse of the label. “You just stole my rum!”
“Not stealing if you’re dead.”
“Oh, but it still is.” He grins at her, one of those damned eyebrows raised in amusement as he waggles his finger at her. “I knew there was a bit of pirate in you.”
She blushes under his praise and shrugs her shoulders, turning to look out at the ocean. Hook leaves his drink untouched.
When she glances at him from the corner of her eye, he remains deep in thought. Being in the alleyway and Tiny’s apartment seemed to be triggers for him and she wonders what’s going through his mind. He hasn’t said anything about what he possibly remembers but she can’t blame him much for that, not when she’s been less than forthcoming with her own past.
“Thanks,” she begins. He turns to face her suddenly in surprise and uncertainty and she takes a deep breath before continuing. “For having my back about the DVD. It’s not an easy choice and I’m grateful you didn’t fight me on it. Even if you don’t agree.”
“The right choice is rarely the easiest one,” Hook says. “I understand your reasoning. Truthfully, I’d have done the same too.”
The smile that breaks onto her face is small but no less soft and genuine. Henry always had her back but he’s a kid. Sometimes she just needs another adult to back her up and support her. She knows David would want to hand everything over to the police at once, make sure that there’s no other copies around, but her own past with law enforcement leaves her less than trustworthy. It’s part of why she left bail-bonds.
Tilting her head back and swallowing her rum in one gulp, Emma licks the remains from her lips before placing the tumbler down onto the windowsill. She crosses her arms as she feels herself taking down the brick walls around her heart.
Friends are few and far between in her life. She has David and his wife Mary Margaret, she reaches out to Will every once in a while though she’d call them more acquaintances than friends, and then there’s Ruby who she might be able to add to the list.
God, how sad is that? Having more fingers than friends.
Out of everyone she’s met, the parents of Henry’s friends and the sources she gets to know, the only people who know a fraction of her past are David and Mary Margaret. Even that is just the bare minimum since David gave her a ticket for a past-due inspection when they first met. Letting people in is not an easy thing for her to do. When she was younger, she’d throw her trauma and issues at whoever tried to get close, scare them off before they could hurt her. Then Henry started to grow up and understand pieces of what she was saying and she locked that instinct down immediately. He looked at her like she was his hero and she couldn’t let go of that image, of being something good to someone.
It wasn’t until he was 14 that she sat him down and told him the ugly truth about everything - her days in the foster system, her run-ins with law enforcement, Neal. She really should have given her kid more credit because he understood and told her it changed nothing. The thought makes her want to cry all over again.
So she takes a shuddering breath and looks up at Hook, his gaze questioning but patient, and tells him everything.
She tells him about being abandoned as a baby, about the Swans and the Langstons and Ingrid and every foster home in between. She tells him about Neal and the watches and how receiving the twenty-thousand dollars in jail was the second and only good thing he did for her, Henry being the first.
She tells him of their money struggles and no one wanting to hire a teen mom with no GED, of nights in her car and crappy apartments until she finally got a break. She tells him of Graham, the one man she just started letting into her life a few years ago only for him to be killed on the job by a rogue cop who had her hand in everything.
She bares her soul but doesn’t have the courage to look him in the eyes as she does so. His ghost may be tethered to her but she’s sure there’s ways for him to avoid her after if he wants. He can disappear and she’ll never have to see him again. If he rejects her, she doesn’t know if she’ll recover.
The thought twists her insides.
Since when did she give so much power to the ghost of a centuries-old pirate captain?
“I believe I may have been a law enforcement officer.”
Her head snaps to the side to look at Hook as he runs his thumb back and forth over his bottom lip. “What?”
He shakes his head and she can feel the confusion coming off of him in waves. “Everything about that alleyway and the apartment felt too… familiar. Like I’d been there before looking for the same clues. Recently, at that.”
She raises her eyebrows dubiously. “What? You think you might be the undercover cop Tiny mentioned or something? How does that explain the Captain Hook getup then?”
“I don’t have an answer for that.”
Head bent low as he examines the hook on his hand, Emma tosses a life preserver to drag him from the storm brewing below the surface. “Hey, maybe you’re onto something. Maybe that’s how you knew to look at the flower pots on Tiny’s balcony.” He offers her a small grin but the defeat is still etched onto his face as his fingers trace the hook. Trying again, her hand hovers over his bicep, close enough that she wonders if he can feel her heat the same way she can feel the cool emanating from his ghostly form. “What else do you think you remember?”
His eyebrows pinch together and Emma can just imagine him finding his way through the fog of his memoires.
“I don’t think I had a happy childhood but… I think I had a brother.”
Truthfully, there’s not much further they get than that for her laptop loudly alerts them to a new message in her email.
Hook rushes over first, effectively ending their conversation by letting her know Ruby’s gotten back to her.
It’s a simple response, thanking her for finding the evidence needed to put Billy’s murderer away and saying that she’s available to meet up tomorrow around eleven at Book & Bistro before bidding the other goodnight. She sends her a confirmation before turning to Hook.
Back at the bay window, he stands with his back to her and his fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. She’s almost hesitant to disturb him but she knows how consuming dark thoughts can be and whatever memories he is slowly getting back, she can tell they aren’t good. “Hook?”
The man in question turns and gives her a wide, fake grin. “Well, I’m glad to have been of service to you and Miss Lucas. Hopefully Billy can be at peace now.”
“Hook,” she says softly and steps closer to him. “Do you want to talk about – ”
“ – You should get some rest, Swan. It’s been a long day.” He gives her a stiff nod, the fake smile still plastered on his face, and turns back to the window.
The cold that washes over her has nothing to do with the way his shoulder brushes her chest and everything to do with the fact that, after opening up to him, he’s shut her out.
Rejection has never stung her quite so badly.
She bites out a short goodnight, ignoring the rustling of his duster and the call of his voice as he says her name, every letter dripping in remorse. Instead, she quietly makes her way to her room, envisioning an imaginary ‘temporary’ sign hanging over the door that blinks bright red like every motel vacancy she shuffled her and Henry through in their early days.
A reminder to herself to not get too comfortable. Not at the house that she’ll have to leave some time in the future and not with the ghost pirate who needs to move on.
*
Silence fills their every stride heading to Book & Bistro the next day. Hook has tried to apologize more than once earlier that morning but she couldn’t stomach the thought and avoided it at every turn. If there was one thing in life that Emma can proclaim she’s the best at, it’s running.
Ruby waits at the same outdoor table they sat at just a week ago and she offers Emma a mimosa as a greeting. Hook sits silently at her side and sends her a look, practically challenging her to drop her purse through him again, but instead she takes the DVD from inside and places the bag at her feet.
“This DVD has everything you need to clear your name. It has proof of Albert Spencer murdering Billy,” Emma says, holding it up. Ruby reaches a hand out to grab it but Emma pulls it back just slightly. “Listen, you can do what you want with it but watching this? It’s not going to do you any good. Trust me.”
“I - I don’t want to watch it,” Ruby says. Red lines her eyes, only faintly visible beneath the thick black eyeliner and Emma knows instantly that the meeting has been weighing on her as much as it has them. “I just want to do what I can to bring him peace and put Spencer behind bars.”
“He’s here.”
Emma does a sharp turn to her side, finding Hook with a faraway look on his face. “Who’s here?”
“Is that Billy?” Ruby asks, sitting up straight as her eyes begin to water. “I can feel him. Is he here?”
Hook nods. “Yeah,” Emma relays to Ruby. “He’s here.”
The experience that follows is one that Emma will never be able to replicate or explain. Hook and Emma work as the bridges connecting the living world to the dead. She can’t see Billy the way she can see Hook but she can feel the way his embrace wraps around Ruby.
“He wants to tell her hello,” Hook starts, his eye line just above Ruby’s head. “And that every time she’s felt him, he was there.”
Emma takes a deep breath, waiting for Hook’s nod before she tells Ruby. The woman seems to melt in relief at the words, eyes fluttering under the threat of tears as she reaches one hand to her shoulder. She can imagine them together now, Ruby sitting at a table with the man from the video behind her, his hands on her shoulders. Grins lighting up both their faces as they converse with friends. Then she blinks and she’s left staring at a broken-hearted woman only just beginning to heal.
“He says that he’s sorry he’s put her through this pain for the past year,” Hook continues, still looking at Billy. “That he wishes more than anything they could have followed through with their dreams and he could have married her. He thinks she looks great in white.”
Ruby laughs when Emma tells her this, grabbing a napkin to dab at her eyes. “He used to tell me he dreamed of our wedding day,” she tells her. Emma smiles sadly and reaches a hand over to her, the other woman squeezing it appreciatively.
There’s a pull in her gut and Emma turns her head to Hook’s ghost to find him already looking at her. Genuine heartbreak fills the cracks of his features but more overpowering is the stronger, pure emotion that takes over him as he speaks Billy’s next words directly to her.
“He just wants her to know that she has done more for him than she will ever know and he will always be grateful for that. That she burst into his life like a ray of sunshine and chased away his dark days. He doesn’t know what’ll happen next but the very best part of his life and death was loving her.”
Emma chokes out the words through her tears, not able to take her eyes off of Hook’s sad expression for one moment. They stare at each other quietly until Ruby softly asks, “Did he move on?”
Hook clears his throat, smiling over Ruby’s head and nods to Emma.
“Yeah, Ruby,” she says. “He’s at peace.”
*
The ordeal is incredibly draining for the three of them so they say goodbye fairly soon after, Emma giving Ruby the card for David’s line at the station in case she needs anything in regards to Billy’s case.
Hook is quiet at her side, more contemplative than the tentative hostility that surrounded them this morning, and she takes strength from having him beside her through it all.
“I’m sorry,” she says once she gets out of the car at the house. “For how I acted last night and this morning. You aren’t obligated to tell me anything.”
Hook shakes his head, holding up his hand and hook in a motion of surrender. “No, Emma, it's I who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, especially after everything you told me. It wasn’t good form.”
“Hey,” she offers up, “we’re all allowed our secrets.”
“Would you be willing,” he asks, “to hear mine?”
*
They walk over to the bulkheads lining one side of the property and she promptly sits down, taking off her shoes and dropping her feet into the cool waters of the Atlantic. The feeling is replicated when Hook sits beside her and his hand covers her own. Not for the first time she wishes to know what his skin would feel like against hers. Was it soft and smooth? Or was it rough from his many hours on a ship?
Or from his hours handling a gun, if his theory of being a cop is right.
“I had a brother,” he tells her. She nods, remembering his words from the night before. “I think I orphaned him.”
“What do you mean? Like you killed your parents?”
“Father. And I didn’t kill him.” He releases a ragged sigh and scratches the back of his ear. “My father abandoned me as a boy. He pulled our ship into port without tying it down, ran on foot while I slept, and left me on our boat to go adrift back out to sea. I was found by fishermen a few days later, dehydrated and starving in the middle of the Celtic Sea.”
“Wounds made when we’re young tend to linger,” she repeats his words back to him in a whisper and he huffs out a humorless laugh.
“I was never quite able to let go of that betrayal. When I got word that he’d come to America, I had to find out. It took a few years, but I did find him. He was tucking his son, my little brother, into bed and whispering the same promises to him that he said to me. I heard him through the window that he’d never hurt him. Then he turned off the light, closed the door, and proceeded to throw a drug party in the living room.”
“What’d you do?” she asks.
He shrugs, blinking rapidly. “I don’t remember much. I think I called the cops because they took the bastard away.”
“And your brother? What happened to him?”
“I refused to take him,” he says. The words that leave his mouth are watery and Emma looks over to see tears in his eyes.
Even ghosts can cry.
“I told myself that I wasn’t in a position to take him in but I knew it was more that I was too angry and bitter. That I’d look at my little brother and hold everything my father did against him.” He takes a deep, labored breath. “I have many regrets in my life, I can feel that for certain, but this is the one I regret the most.”
She eyes their hands, how their pinkies interlap, and she wishes she could give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “The right choice isn’t always the easiest,” she says. “But I choose to see the best in you because of how you feel about your past.”
“And I you.”
They share a grin that’s broken by the sound of a car door slamming and Emma realizes that in the chaos of the last week, she forgot what today was.
“MOM?!”
“Henry,” she whispers happily to herself.
“Your boy?” Hook asks and she nods quickly. “Go say hi. I know you’ve missed him.”
She gives him a smile of thanks before rushing to her feet and around to the front of the house. Violet’s father waves from the car before he backs out of the driveway and Emma laughs at the look of awe on her kid’s face.
“Can we really afford this?” he asks her as he continues staring at the house.
“Don’t jinx it, kid,” she laughs. She can’t help but pull Henry into a tight hug, not caring for a moment that his heavy bags slam against her thigh. “I missed you.”
His words are muffled against her shoulder as he says, “I miss you too, mom. But now you’re squeezing me and I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry, sorry!” She steps back and takes a good look at her son. He’s only been gone for six weeks but it feels weeks longer. His skin has a healthy glow to it due to California’s sunshine and she can spot at least four more notebooks peeking out of his duffle bag than what he left with. A part of her wonders if he grew in the time he’s been gone but that’s when she knows she’s going crazy. “How was it?”
“Mom, it was the best. Thank you so much for letting me go! I learned a lot like how… to…”
“Henry?” Her face pinches in confusion as Henry trails off, eyes set on a point beyond her shoulder. “You okay?”
“What’s Killian doing here?”
She cups his face in worry, forcing his eyes to look into hers. “Kid, who’s Killian?”
But Henry steps back in confusion, looking over her shoulder again and pointing at something behind her. “He’s Killian.”
Emma turns in growing confusion, only spotting Hook’s approaching figure but no one else.
“Killian!” Henry calls out next and Hook stops short, staring at the two of them. She can make out the concentration on his face before he begins to blink in quick succession, shaking his head for a few moments. A look of clarity falls over his features before he answers hesitantly.
“Henry?”
*
“Tell me again how you two know each other?” Emma asks once the three of them make it into the house.
“Killian works at the docks for Albert’s Automotive & Boat Transports. He’s off on Wednesdays and does Pirate Storytime as Captain Hook for the local library on his personal ship. He gives me cash on the side to help out,” Henry says like it’s no big deal. Instead, he has a greater focus on filling up his plate with every food item she’s recently purchased. Apparently his writing camp didn’t feed him.
Emma sighs. “That explains the pirate costume at least.”
“And how are you able to see me, lad?” Hook – err, Killian asks. Henry only shrugs his shoulders, spraying crumbs everywhere when he speaks with his mouth full.
“I can’t believe Killian is the ghost.” He swallows, swiping his mouth with his arm. “I didn’t even know you died.”
Killian sits up straighter at that. “No one told you I died?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Emma interrupts. “Can we back up for a second?” They look at her and she raises her eyebrows, demanding confirmation. “Did you just say Killian works for Albert’s Automotive & Boat Transports?”
*
As if things couldn’t get any more convoluted, it turns out that she was right – Albert Spencer’s second business - the car and boat transport business - was a front for drugs. And murder, considering Billy’s situation.
“A few months before Billy was killed, I was able to go undercover in the company under the alias Barrie Rogers,” Killian explains over their table. “It was suspected that Spencer hid drugs in the framework of cars and boats he promised to transport for customers and my mission was to find evidence of it. Then a chuck of the drugs on one transport went missing.” Looking at Emma, he explains, “I think it was on a car that Billy towed. He didn’t steal them, some low level guy Smee did. He could find anything that wasn’t supposed to be found. But Spencer wouldn’t hear it and, unfortunately, Billy got killed.”
“So you were investigating the alleyway and went to see Tiny, right? You knew there had to be something that was missed,” Emma concludes.
He nods. “Spencer went there all the time for his illegal activities, so there had to be something. One day when I was checking it out, Tiny was watering the flower pots and I spotted the camera.”
“So what happened to you?” Henry cuts in.
“Yeah,” she adds. “Spencer reported Barrie Rogers as on an extended medical leave. Do you think he hid your body or something?”
Killian shakes his head, straightening his shoulders as he tenses from the memories. “No. Because I don’t believe I’m dead.”
*
It turns out that nearly three months ago, Spencer’s paranoia began to eat at him. He felt like someone was close to uncovering his entire operation and his other deeds, namely one concerning his former employee Billy. He sent the dogs on Ruby, digging up her tragic romantic past and using that to evade cops' noses. Except the paranoia remained. He believed someone under him was feeding information to the authorities.
It was unfortunate for Killian that Spencer’s paranoia correctly zeroed in on him.
Everyone else under Spencer had been affiliated with him for years. They all got a piece of the pie, perks of seniority apparently, and Killian was the only fresh blood of the group besides Billy.
So Spencer sought him out one Wednesday a little over two months, watching as Killian did his weekly storytime for the library and waiting until he was alone with his guard down.
The old man walked onto the ship, red in his eyes and fire in his veins. He accused Killian of trying to take down his whole operation, something Killian vehemently denied to save his own life. More accusations came flying out of Spencer’s mouth, some on the nose and some so wildly out there that it made Killian laugh.
Then Spencer threw the first punch.
“I don’t remember much of the fight, too much adrenaline and pure instinct,” Killian says. “The pirate costume is about 90 pounds of dead weight and wouldn’t let me put up the fight I wanted. I think he knew that. All I can remember is a searing pain at the back of my head.”
“How do you know you didn’t die of a brain bleed?” Emma inquires.
The possibility that Killian isn’t dead, that this is just some apparition of his living self projected out into the universe for some reason or another, is almost too much for her to bear. She refuses to get her hopes up, refuses to think that it’s still possible for him to fix what he regrets.
That it’s possible he might still want to be in her life when he’s back to himself.
“I remember now I have an older brother too, actually,” he tells her with a small smile. “He’d be raising hell right now if I was killed and there’s no way a smart lass like yourself would have missed that.”
“So what happened to you?” Henry asks.
“I don’t know. But I think the best place to start is at Liam’s.”
*
Henry whines over the fact he can’t go, like he’s six instead of sixteen but Emma reminds him that one stranger is hard enough. “He doesn’t need two people he doesn’t know talking to him about his brother,” she explains. “Especially when said brother is currently a ghost or spirit or whatever.”
“Killian,” he pleads to next, giving the ghost-spirit-pirate-cop his best impression of a puppy dog face. “Don’t you think this could be a great learning experience to add to my pirate adventure book? The one inspired by you?”
“Oh, you play dirty, lad,” Killian says, his words dripping with amusement. One side glance at Emma’s stern expression sobers him up and he nods his head to her as he tells Henry, “I think you should listen to your mother though.”
Liam lives on the other side of Boston, a modest townhouse near the water. He keeps the front impeccably manicured and his grass a vibrant green even under July’s unforgiving sun. A sleek white car sits in the driveway and the front door is open with only the screen door preventing any bugs from entering.
“How well do you think this is going to go?” she asks as she stares down the house.
“He’s going to think you’re mad,” Killian admits, though he’s straining his neck from inside her VW bug to inspect the area.
“Great.”
From the little Killian’s told her about Liam since regaining his full memories, his older brother is as stiff and strict as they come. If good form were a person, it’d be Liam with no tolerance for nonsense, which, if he answers the door, is going to be all he gets from Emma.
The man that comes to the door is tall with broad shoulders. Short curly hair sits atop his head and Emma can see the family resemblance between him and Killian when her eyes meet his and they’re the same striking oceanic blue.
“Can I help you, lass?”
Emma sucks in a breath and steals a glance from Killian at her side as he lets out a breathy call of his brother’s name.
“Hi, you don’t know me but my name is Emma and I’m a friend of Killian’s,” she starts, catching his interest. “Can we talk?”
Liam eyes the area outside the townhome with suspicion, eying Emma too before glancing behind him. “I have somewhere to be so you have to make it quick.” With that, he unlocks the screen door and lets her in.
“Thanks for taking the time to speak with me.” The townhome looks a bit like a disaster, if you ask her. For how well-kept the front looked, she anticipated the same orderliness on the inside. But there’s a pile of clothes on the couch and a duffle bag by the door, toys strewn through the living room, and containers upon containers of tupperware on the kitchen island.
“How do you know my little brother?”
“Younger brother.”
“Younger brother,” Emma corrects on instinct after hearing Killian utter the words. Liam gives her a look and she smiles apologetically. “Sorry, it’s like I can hear him in my ear.”
“Very funny, Swan.”
“But, um, I actually stole his shot of rum at the bar.”
“Oh really?” Liam inquires, not believing her for a moment. “What kind?”
Her mind flashes back to the bottle she stole from his liquor cabinet and the tastes that danced on her tongue for hours after, wondering if that’s how Killian would taste. Ignoring the flush overcoming her, she says, “Mount Gay’s 1703.”
Liam hums noncommittally. “What do you do for a living, Emma…”
“Swan,” she tells him. “I’m a private investigator.” He hums again.
She subtly looks to Killian for help but he’s running his hand through his hair and muttering curses under his breath. All she wants to do is ask him what’s going on or to grab his hand so she doesn’t feel so alone but Liam grabs her attention first.
“Miss Swan, while I am sure you enjoyed extracurricular activities with my brother, he is going through a serious matter that I won’t discuss with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I am sure that your career path helps you in finding out intimate details about your subjects but I will not be sharing anything about my brother with you.”
Emma scoffs, crossing her arms as she lets her fury brew deep in her gut. “You know, for all the talk of good form, your brother never mentioned you were such an ass.”
“Emma,” Killian whispers from beside her. “Love, he won’t believe us.”
“Oh yes he will,” she mutters to herself.
Liam continues to eye her, not at all helped by her half-seen asides with his brother. “You need to leave, lass.”
“It’s a lost cause. Let’s just go,” Killian urges and she swears she feels the metal of his hook at her elbow but she shakes him off.
“I am not leaving,” she tells them both though she remains in a staredown with Liam. “I need to know what happened to Killian.”
“I am not telling you anything. Now leave.”
“Emma, come on.”
“NO,” she shouts, uncrossing her arms and turning towards Killian. “I won’t leave until your thick-headed brother listens to us. Damn it, Killian.”
It’s not until she faces Liam again, face pale and eyes wide in frantic worry, that she realizes her mistake. To the outside observer, she just yelled at thin air.
“Fuuuuck,” she groans to herself. “Damn it.” Taking a fortifying breath, Emma steps up to the kitchen island, focusing on Liam on the other side, registering the steak knife he clutches in his hand. “I am going to sound crazy and I know it but I just need you to hear me out and not because you think I’m some one night stand of Killian’s but because I am his friend and I care about him. I moved into his house – ”
“ – You’re David’s friend? The one I’m subletting Killian’s house to?” Liam cuts in.
“Yes!” Emma shouts excitedly. “And you see – ”
“You need to move out of there right away.”
“What.”
“Either you leave and move out right away or I’ll call the police and get you for harassment and trespassing.”
Killian groans to her side and she knows it’s been shot to hell so she doesn’t bother hiding it as she asks him, “Got any other ideas, Hook?”
“You’ve done so wonderfully that nothing else is coming to mind, darling.” She rolls her eyes at his sarcasm and sets her shoulders back. Liam is looking for a fight and that’s all she’s done her entire life. He will have to arrest her to get her out of here.
“I know I sound insane but when I moved into your brother’s house, he started to appear to me like he was a ghost. I thought he was dead but we just found out that he might not be. Where he is, we don’t know. But we’d like to so that he’s not wandering around lost like a ghost. I know it sounds as far-fetched as you can imagine but it’s the truth.”
“All you’ve proven to me is that you’re a stalker and insane,” Liam growls. “Now leave before you wake my daughter because I don’t want her to see this.”
“Tink?” she hears Killian ask to her side.
“Who’s Tink?” she asks him but Liam jumps in at the sound of the name.
“Tink? You’re not really that deranged that you’re dragging Tink into this too, are you?” Liam questions with narrowed eyes and a white-knuckled grip on the knife.
“Tink – she’s his wife,” Killian explains. “She passed away two years ago. She’s here though.”
Emma licks her lips nervously as she looks back at Liam, realizing just how badly she is playing with fire. “Killian says your wife is here.”
“Bullocks. I’ve had enough of your tales,” Liam starts but Emma backs away, repeating the words that Killian’s telling her.
“Tink says she’s always around and watching over you and Delilah. She says that when you find glitter on one of your ties, it’s her letting you know she’s with you. Or when Delilah finds a four-leafed clover in the backyard. She is always with you and will be forever,” Emma chokes out. Red-faced, from grief or anger, she’s not sure, Liam swallows hard. “She says that she knows you’re not as happy as you were before but that she’s so proud of how you’re keeping things together for Delilah.”
“Stop it,” Liam growls.
She sucks in a breath and shakes her head. “Tink knows how strong you’ve been and she says to remind you of the friends you have and of your brother, that you’re not doing this alone.”
Through gritted teeth, hatred consumes every word as he says, “You better shut your mouth, lass.”
“She says that she used to kiss your eyelids every night before bed because you’re her angel,” Emma tells him in a rush. Devastation hits Liam like a train and he gasps, dropping his knife. Speaking through her own tears, she adds, “Tink says you’ve been her angel for so long that it’s her turn now.”
Head dropped to his head, Liam whimpers, “Get out.”
Emma looks to Killian helplessly, the man looking as wrecked as his brother, and she opens her mouth unsure of what to say. “I – ”
“I think you’ve caused me enough pain,” Liam growls out, eyes bloodshot. “Not only are you reminding me that I will have to pull support on my brother in mere days but you have to bring my wife into this too?” She’s too stunned to speak so she can only watch as Liam keeps himself from drowning in grief by latching onto his anger. “The very last thing you can do is leave.”
She turns in a hurry, flying past the toys in the living room and the clothes on the couch and rushes outside, the screen door bouncing off of the frame. “Don’t you ever come back!” Liam shouts to her retreating figure.
Paying him no mind, Emma goes to the bug, sliding into the driver’s seat and buckling up before Killian’s spirit has the chance to catch up. She turns the key in the ignition and pushes hard on the gas pedal, jolting the two of them out of there.
“I had no idea he’d react like that. I’m so sorry, love.”
Emma shakes her head, wiping the few tears that escaped with the back of her hand. “It’s not your fault he’s an asshole.”
“He’s grieving.”
“Doesn’t give him a right to be an asshole.”
Killian sighs, “I know. I’m sorry to have put you through that and not gotten anything in return.”
“What do you mean?” she asks him. The corner of her mouth darts up in a small smile as she says, “That gave me plenty.”
*
How does one tell a spirit that the body they belong to is in a coma? That they’re relying on life support that’s going to be pulled soon. If there’s a guide for it, Emma would’ve liked to know.
Telling Killian comes through a rush of words as she explains her theory. Of course, denial sets in quickly.
“My brother would rather die than do anything to harm me,” he protests. “He would keep me on those machines for as long as possible.”
“Do you have any other explanation?” Emma says. “I mean Killian, come on. You got in a fight, hit your head, you’re balancing between the world of the living and the world of the dead, and your brother just talked about pulling your life support. All signs point to a coma.”
He shakes his head, pacing the length of the living room as Henry plays his video game. “Like I said, Liam wouldn’t take me off life support. Not willingly.”
“Hey,” Henry cuts in. He pauses his game and leans over the back of the couch to face them. “Did you sign a release form or something when you became a cop that dictated your medical wishes? He could be forced to follow that.”
“How do you even know about something like that?” Emma asks, coming over to ruffle his hair. Henry rolls her eyes but grins up at her and she feels herself soften to the core.
“Like every emergency service drama on TV right now has a plot about it.”
“Fair enough.”
“Now that you mention that, I may have.” Killian uses his hook to brush hair off of his forehead and she wonders how often he wears it. He’s clearly comfortable with it, and he declared during their first meeting that he uses it as his left hand, but she wonders about the story behind it. The one story they haven’t gotten to yet.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out…”
*
It takes three hospitals before Emma is able to find the one Killian is resting at. Visiting hours are close to ending and she doesn’t know if she can stomach a night of uncertainty so she books it.
Getting put onto the visitor list is not her favorite moment, especially when it comes to dragging her kid into it, no matter how willing a participant he is.
“His brother doesn’t like me,” she explains. “We got off on the wrong foot and he never got over it. But Liam’s been dodging my calls since Killian went MIA and I could never find out why. Killian’s my fiancé, just tell me.” She looks away, willing the tears she fakes so well to come to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she mutters as she reaches for a tissue.
“Please, can we see him?” Henry pleads next. “He was supposed to be my step-dad and teach me how to sail his ship.” His bottom lip wobbles and Emma glances behind her to see Killian just as impressed with her kid’s acting skills as she is. Definitely something to look out for in the future. And maybe he should consider a career in acting with these theatrics. “Please,” he continues, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “At least let me say goodbye.”
The nurse relents at that, adding their names to the visitor list and directing him to their room.
They’re just feet away when she hears the doctors conversing inside and stops Henry from entering.
“... with the minimal brain activity to start, what we wanted to see was an increase, not a decrease. I suspect that he’ll lose total brain activity within the next few days,” the doctor says. She can hear the faint scribbling of notes and wonders if he brought a nurse with him or a class of residents. The idea that Killian is being used as a teaching tool while he fights for his life churns her stomach. “His brother is aware of this and has agreed to honor the affidavit Mr. Jones signed when he joined Boston PD.”
Unable to stomach any more, Emma strolls into the hospital room with Henry following hesitantly behind her. Killian is slowest and last to enter, keeping his eyes averted from where his body lays in the center of the room.
“Excuse us,” the doctor and his group of residents say, nodding to her before leaving the room.
Once they’re alone, Emma’s eyes find Killian’s body.
He’s pale with a healing cut on his cheek, just below his eye, his right hand set in a cast and the stump on his left covered with a sock to keep blood flowing. His black hair lays dull and flat against his head and the Killian in the bed has less weight than her ghost Killian, a feeding tube sticking out of his side as the main source of nutrients for the last few months.
“Wow,” Henry says. His eyes dart between the ghost and the body, not sure who he should address.
“Aye,” he says solemnly, finally making eye contact with his own person.
It must be weird, she thinks, to see yourself laying stock still in a hospital bed. To know that your actual body has been bed bound while your soul has been galavanting freely. The detachment that comes with it must be freaking him out.
His fingers stick out of the cast, slightly more swollen than she anticipated, but she reaches out still to hold his hand like she wished to do on the bulkheads.
“Swan?” Killian rasps out.
“Hmm?” She turns her head in his direction to see him holding up his hand in amazement, staring at his fingers.
“I can feel that.”
Disbelief overwhelms them, coming out in short puffs of laughter, growing only when Henry comments, “I guess hope isn’t lost for you after all, Captain.”
Their laughter comes to an abrupt stop, however, when they hear security being called over the loudspeaker and Emma feels fear strike her to her core. “They know,” she whispers and the three of them quickly rush out of the room, blending into the small crowd of visitors also leaving their floor. Getting caught would do them no good, especially when they don’t know how to help Killian yet.
*
“So why do you think we can see you and no one else can?” Henry asks over a slice of pizza once they get home.
“Your mother and I had theorized that it had to do with the house but that doesn’t seem to be right otherwise Liam would see me as well.”
Emma frowns, sipping from her glass of rum. “Do you have any unfinished business? Something tethering you to the world of the living while your body’s in a coma?”
Killian just shrugs. For the first time since she’s met him, he is without his leather duster and vest, his rolled up sleeves and unbuttoned shirt a delicious tease that Emma needs to stop focusing on. “Not that I can think of, at least nothing that can be changed.”
“Not regretting not giving me boating lessons?” Henry teases.
“Of course I regret I didn’t start that sooner,” he jokes back. He glances up at Emma for a moment and she feels his eyes on her mouth. “I have regrets about things like that. But those are ones I have after the incident, not ones I held before it.”
“What about your brother? Your other one?” she asks.
“Ah, yes, well, I had looked into that,” he says. “I can’t remember the name for the bloody life of me but I contacted a private investigator and I don’t think they ever found him.”
“Good thing that’s what I do,” she says with a grin. “Come on, try me. Same last name?” she asks as she strolls over to her laptop, bringing it back to the kitchen table.
“Aye.”
“Let’s see what we can find,” she says with a grin. The grin that immediately drops when she opens her laptop and her emails are the first thing she sees. Pinned at the top is her correspondence with one Mr. Jones. What had been her white whale.
The same Mr. Jones that is sitting beside her?
She opens the latest email from him and checks the sender.
“I think we just solved more than one mystery,” she says to herself.
“What are you talking about?” asks Henry, a new slice of pizza hanging from his mouth.
“I believe Killian’s the Mr. Jones I’ve been emailing for the last two years.”
*
Liam Jones II, like his older brothers, lives near the water in Boston. His apartment building is one of the older ones, an odd architectural design that scared buyers away in the 80s but is coming back as hip nowadays. It’s clear the community takes pride in their odd buildings and homes and work together to keep things looking clean and fresh.
Emma parks the bug across the street from Liam II’s apartment, right in front of the seaside park. She watches as Killian’s younger brother weeds the flowerbeds and an older man watches over with a fatherly grin. They tease one another back and forth, the comfortable familiarity between them a balm to Killian’s broken soul.
“I wish I had been able to apologize for how I wronged him,” he whispers to Emma. She swears she can feel his breath dance across his lips as he leans over the center console, gaze set firmly on his brother. “I don’t regret arresting our father, but I do regret the pain I’ve caused the boy. Perhaps if I told Liam then things would be different but I will never know.”
“I think the fact that you want to apologize shows how you’ve grown,” she says when she recognizes the start of a spiral into self-loathing. “You can’t take back the decisions you made but you can do better. At least you can know that he’s happy.”
He gives her a small smile and nods before politely asking her to leave. She takes one last look at the apartment building, swearing the older gentleman smiles at her as they leave, and she brings him home.
*
Henry waits for them on the porch steps, grinning wide as Emma gets out of the car. “There are tons of fireflies tonight.”
“Did you get started without me?”
The grin he gives her lifts her mood tenfold from the gloomy car ride back and she can’t help but respond in like.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Let the competition begin!”
“Hey! Cheater!”
“Not a cheater, Swan, but a pirate.” Emma turns at Killian’s voice behind her, smiling softly at the grin on his face. “Turns out his mother isn’t the only one with some in her.”
“I’ll just wait for your admittance of being a bad influence,” she teases. He smirks but doesn’t deny it. At least now she can surmise where her kid picked up his dice tricks from.
“So what is this competition he’s bellowing about?”
Emma watches Henry running around the backyard and calling out numbers like he’s her little boy all over again and her heart warms at the sight. “When he was little and I couldn’t afford a lot of games, during the summer, we’d have a competition every night to see who could catch the most fireflies. If I won, he went to bed early. If he won, I had to let him read until he fell asleep.”
“Who knew pirates could be such bookworms?” Killian teased but Emma only raised her eyebrow.
“I’ve seen your study, Hook. You’ve got more books than I’ve seen in a library.”
“Come on, mom!” Henry calls from the side of the yard. Only his head sticks out from behind the house and she watches as he snatches another firefly, yells his number, and then lets it free. “Stop flirting and start catching!”
She rolls her eyes at her kid’s antics and turns to Killian. “Wanna try?”
“Oh, I’ve never – ”
“What? Never tried catching fireflies?” she asks, stepping away for a moment to gently capture one in her cupped hands. She can feel his eyes on the line of skin that gets exposed from her jumping capture and thanks every god and deity she knows that her blush is hidden under the dark of the sky.
“I don’t even know if I can catch one in my state,” he whispers regretfully.
She whispers back, “You won’t know if you don’t try.”
Checking that the firefly is still in her hands, she looks up to ask Killian if he’s ready only to be floored by the soft look he gives her. There’s such an open tenderness to it that she feels her jaw drop slightly, her own eyes searching the depths of his. The yearning in her chest is almost unbearable and she feels it mirrored in his gaze.
For so long, they’ve been hurt by life and left alone. They have been let down by those they trusted and even disappointed by themselves. With each other, there’s no judgment. Understanding runs deep in the bond that connects them and Emma has never felt herself so at peace with someone before in her life.
She finds herself standing at a cliff’s edge and imagines a hook in her hand, the tall, dark, and scruffy pirate by her side. Her heart in his hands and his in hers.
“Ready?” she asks breathlessly, not even certain she’s asking about the firefly anymore.
He looks at her with such admiration that she doesn’t even notice his hand brushes the hair off of her shoulder, the murmuring of his comment about a glowing angel. Instead, she focuses on the way his lips firm one word a few moments later, so confidently and with such finality that she feels her knees go weak.
“Always.”
And so they jump.
*
The bay window has become their seat, she realizes. They gather in front of it that night as they have already done so many times before and stare at the ocean. If he were sitting there in his body, their knees would brush with every movement they make. Instead, she gets to see how the moonlight shines on his form and wishes she could see it for real.
“If tonight was your last night on Earth, what would you do?”
She’s not sure what prompted the question but now she hangs on every second for his answer.
“Probably teach you how to do the right tile design upstairs.” She rolls her eyes as they both chuckle at the memory before she leans back against the wall, eyeing him under the moonlight as if she could commit the image to her memory.
“Seriously, what would you do?”
“Exactly this.” He says it with no hesitation, no joking tone. Pure sincerity dances across his face and it steals her breath away. “I’d spend every moment right here. With you.”
If he were here, for real, she’d kiss him. She’d kiss the holy hell out of him and then probably drag him upstairs to her room. His room. Their room?
Or she’d kiss him and then cuddle against his side in the bay window, listening to him point out the constellations overhead.
Or she’d hold him close in the tightest embrace she could manage and never let him go.
If he were really here, there’s so much more she’d love to do but he’s not so she settles for resting her pinky over the ghost of his and smiling wide at him, her heart beating so loudly in her chest she swears he can hear it.
“Sounds perfect.”
*
Waking up the next morning is disorienting.
Her back hurts from where she fell asleep in the bay window and her neck has a kink in it. She rubs the sleep from her eyes as the rising sun blinds her, calling out, “Killian?”
The lack of response has her sitting up straight and pinching her eyebrows together in worry. Killian doesn’t sleep, not in his state, and he’s always been around when she wakes up. Calling his name again, she feels relief begin to flood her system at the thumping on the stairs only for fear to grip her heart when it’s just Henry.
“Is Killian with you?” she asks in a hurry, rushing over to the stairs.
Henry eyes her fearfully. “No, I thought he was with you.”
“Shit.”
The two of them fan out across the house and the yard, calling out Killian’s name with no response. They meetup in the kitchen, panting and sweating from the summer heat. “Where did he go?” Henry asks.
Like an ice bucket has been dropped over her head, Emma feels her face fall. “We need to get to the hospital. Now.”
*
Emma and Henry rush through the halls of the hospital, their visitor stickers haphazardly stuck to their shirts. Everyone else moves at a slow pace like someone they care about isn’t dying and it leads to more than a few run-ins, not that she cares.
These people are fine and Killian is not.
Once they reach his floor, she sees Liam standing outside of Killian’s room with his head down.
“Liam!” she calls out in desperation, Henry following at her heels. “Please, Liam. Please tell me you didn’t do it.”
“Emma, bloody hell,” Liam says, dropping his coat to the floor and pulling her into his arms for a tight hug. “I’m so sorry for how I acted the other day. I’m so sorry for not believing you. I’m – ”
She pulls out of the hug quickly, examining his red eyes and she feels her heart drop. “What – Is Killian okay?”
“They just turned off the life support machines.” His voice cracks as he tells her and all she wants to do is punch him, yell at him, throttle the man for not holding on a little bit longer for his brother.
“Is he dead?” Henry asks brokenly from her side. She reaches an arm out to rest around his shoulders and pulls him close.
Liam swallows and glances at the room, the faint sound of a heartbeat echoing in the space over the quiet chatter of doctors and nurses. “Would you like to say goodbye?”
They slowly enter his hospital room, the gleeful state of before being replaced with grief. Henry rushes to Killian’s side and gently places a hand on his elbow as they remove the breathing tube from his throat. Emma is slower to come over, waiting until almost all of the machines and wires are gone with the exception of the tracking of his vitals.
“I wish we had more time,” she whispers to him.
Her fingers trace his cast down to where his own are exposed and she grips them as tight as she can. She wants him to feel in his last moments, to know that he wasn’t alone. She just hopes he knows it was her by his side.
She can hear Liam waiting at the doorway and she accepts that she has no right to prolong her goodbye. His brother has been by his side his entire life, has respected his decisions and has offered him more than she ever could. She’s just a woman who was able to see him during his time of limbo.
“Goodbye, Killian,” she whispers before leaning down and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth.
Waiting for a moment, she hopes to see his eyelids flutter open, for him to greet her with a smirk and those twinkling blue eyes. But nothing happens and the monitors remain the same. “Come on, kid,” she whispers once Henry finishes his goodbyes. He comes to her side and they walk over to Liam, thanking him for giving them this.
“I really am sorry, lass. You have no idea,” he whispers. Emma doesn’t say anything in return, just gives him a sad smile.
Before she can take another step, one of Killian’s monitors starts to go crazy, the beeping sounds taking over the chatter of the medical staff still inside. She turns in awe, standing still as nurses rush in from the hall and bump into her, muttering about how signs of brain activity are increasing and it looks like he’s waking up. She doesn’t know if it’s a miracle or if it’s the last bit of strength before his death, but she feels the hope in her chest rise.
And then nurses are ushering her and Henry out of the room, closing the door behind them, and she’s left with nothing.
*
He’s awake and recovering, the email said. She’s read it enough in the weeks following her getting it that she remembers the words within by heart. His scans are good and the doctor says that aside from some abrasions and his cast, he looks as healthy as can be.
I asked about his time in the coma, if he remembers anything, and so far nothing. His mind is a bit fuzzy at the moment – he keeps mentioning Tink – but he doesn’t remember you.
I’m sorry, lass, Liam wrote to her. He’s staying with me for the time being if you’d like to see him. Don’t worry about the house, you can stay there as long as you need. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.
She hasn’t though. Reached out, that is. It’s been three weeks and she’s been focused on making sure Albert Spencer is brought into custody for the murder of Billy Angus and the assault on Killian Jones, undercover officer with the Boston PD. Watching him being brought in wearing handcuffs in front of a dozen cameras felt like sweet justice, but only for a moment.
Moving boxes fill the living room of the blue seaside house, her and Henry’s belongings once again being put in cardboard. The U-Haul truck sits in the driveway and she’s determined to fill it with as many boxes as she can before Henry gets home from work.
She signed a 7-month lease on a small cottage twenty minutes north. She figures it will give her enough time to find somewhere permanent to settle down without being assaulted by memories of Killian and what could have been. Henry thinks she’s being ridiculous, and she probably is, but Killian remembers Henry. They developed a bond from his time at the docks before everything happened, something Emma never had until he ended up in a coma. She can’t face him and see the lack of recognition in his eyes. For certain, that would be the thing that breaks her.
Standing up, she grabs a box of knick-knacks and makes her way to the moving truck, cursing the sweltering August air. Maybe they should consider moving to Alaska; Boston was never supposed to be this hot.
“Need a hand, love?”
Emma stumbles down the porch steps and promptly drops the box at her feet, thanking every god and deity that nothing fragile was inside. Breath catching in her throat, she looks up to see Killian standing at the U-Haul, dark jeans, white shirt, and a plaid button-up gracing his figure instead of the pirate leathers she’d become so accustomed to.
“You know,” he starts with a smirk, casually strolling towards her. “I was going to ask why you never visited but I see you wanted to skip town before I could call out your tilework.”
She huffs out a laugh in disbelief, eyes stuck on him as he stops in front of her. “I thought you couldn’t remember me,” she whispers, hating the way her voice cracks and her vision gets blurry with tears.
“You, I remember perfectly. Just had to give me a few weeks,” he says, grin widening with every moment as she feels relief flood her body. “What I don’t remember, though, is the kiss from an angel that woke me.” She blushes under his gaze but can’t fight the smile forming on her lips. “Now, that isn’t fair, is it?”
“Would you like me to refresh your memory a bit?” she asks, quirking her eyebrow up to match his.
For the first time ever, she feels his arms wrap around her waist and she can run her fingers through his hair like she’d seen him do so many times. She revels in his touch and he closes his eyes under her attention.
“Every day,” he whispers in the happiest voice she’s ever heard from him.
So she does.
#captain swan#captain swan supernatural summer#cssns#cssns 2022#cssns22#cs fanfic#cs ff#captain swan fanfic#captain swan ff#temporarystatus#just like heaven au#ghost whisperer au#this got out of hand#i'm so sorry#killian jones#emma swan#i don't know what to say#lmaooo#my fics
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the song of the sea
A haunted ship, a curious boy, a captain forever stuck in a state of limbo, a mother who'll do anything to protect her child. A tale of love beyond life. Beyond death.
Chapter 1 of 6 [2]
Fanfiction / AO3
A/N: Welcome to my little story for CSSNS! A tale of ghosts, love, and hauntings.
Thank you again @jonesfandomfanatic for the excellent beta job and I hope you guys enjoy my entry for CSSNS 2022! Also: thank you to all the moderators at @cssns you guys put a lot into this event and the fandom wouldn't be the same without you guys!
prologue: the captain's curse
The lad was quiet, nervous.
He stumbled, he fumbled, he trembled and, should he have only glanced up, he would have seen Killian looking at him; studying him. But, alas, he did not and, instead, he continued to shiver from the unnatural cold Killian brought.
It wasn’t every day that the living dared to board a vessel that belonged solely to the dead. But this lad, this child with his strange light, seemed both foolish and brave. He ruffled through Killian’s drawers, opened the chests that Killian had sworn to be kept locked, and read Killian’s diaries. Although Killian could have chased him off ages ago, possessed him and had him jump off the side of the ship with barely a thought, Killian stayed his hand. There was something about the boy, about the way he kept muttering “I’m not a child anymore”, that made Killian felt sympathy.
He seemed lonely.
Strange.
A peculiar child who dared to enter a haunted ship on Midsummer Night’s Eve and Killian could taste his fear, his curiosity.
He didn’t want to be here, not really. He was simply following the words of his friends, friends, who, Killian knew, were to be found on the sad excuse of a sea-faring vessel that was bobbing beside his own ship. As a matter of fact, Killian supposed, they were probably not this boy’s friends. Not really.
If anything, he thought as he watched the boy wipe a nervous hand over his clammy forehead, they were this boy’s enemies. Cruel children who bullied others for their own amusement. The type of lads Killian had always loathed.
Killian stepped back and decided that he would allow the boy to find his proof unencumbered.
It had been a long time since Killian had done something for someone else.
The thought of being charitable, nice, even, made Killian quirk a brow at the child.
At least, Killian thought when the boy found his necklace, he had thought to be nice. He was supposed to be nice, but then, the boy had stuffed the necklace into his pocket and, bloody hell.
The Jolly’s wood creaked as the boy made to exit the cabin and Killian rushed towards him; the ship’s doors slammed open and shut, the window’s creaked, the candles flickered on and off. The boy took one look at the mess behind him and screamed, running even as the Jolly’s sails unfurled, and the ship’s wheel began to spin. Killian clambered after him, his stomach in knots, his soul being dragged ruthlessly behind the boy, and bloody hell. Killian held out his hand to the boy and hoped, begged, that he’d get to him before it was too late.
The boy jumped into the ocean and, although Killian tried to stay, although the Jolly called after him, Killian fell in right behind him, his soul, his spirit, attaching itself to the one part of him that remained on this cursed plain of existence.
The boy swam towards his friends and their bobbing little dingy, and Killian screamed, yelled, even as his very soul, his very spirit was ripped away from his safe harbor.
#cssns22#cssns 2022#cssns#captain swan supernatural summer#captain swan#cs fic#my writing#captain swan fanfic#ghost story#killian jones#emma swan#captain hook#the song of the sea
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A Chance to Fly, chapter 3, by @stahlop (for @cssns)
Killian tried again. “Did you not see it?” He grabbed her hands desperately and pulled her closer, forcing Emma to look directly into his eyes that were shining in the firelight, and for the first time, Emma realized they were actually glowing, not just reflecting off the light. They were calling to her like a beacon.
“I don’t understand,” Emma said for what felt like the millionth time in the past two days.
Killian’s fingers lightly caressed her cheek. “Have you ever heard the expression ‘eyes are windows to the soul’?” Emma nodded as Killian’s fingers continued to explore her face, then her ear as he brushed back an errant hair, and then swept down her neck. She had never felt this way in her life. Her blood was practically singing and she felt like she would explode the way his fingers barely grazed her overheated skin (that she could not blame on the fire).
“In a dragon’s case, the eyes show us who our mate is. Who our soul is bound to.” His eyes were boring into her, his deep stare causing goosebumps to spread over her entire body. “You caught me completely off guard with that ridiculous apple.”
Emma couldn’t take it anymore. She almost laughed. But between his voice and his radiant eyes, she felt like her body was about to combust. She grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him toward her until their lips met.
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A Chance to Fly Ch.3
Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I knew what needed to happen, but my muse was not cooperating with me.
Thanks again to @spartanguard for being my beta! And thanks to the @cssns for this event!
Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 1 2
Or read on Ao3
Tears blinded Emma’s eyes as she and Hook took to the sky. She knew her mother had held back the truth about many things—she’d spotted the lies since she was a little girl—but her whole life? Kidnapped from her true parents. The woman she’d thought was her mother’s enemy actually innocent. Queen Regina not caring for her at all. She really was just a pawn to her. Someone to help her make an alliance with another kingdom in her quest to take down Snow White. It was like she’d been sucker-punched in the stomach.
“I can’t breathe!” she yelled, hoping Hook could hear her. They were above the clouds, much higher than they’d been before. She was sure it would have been a beautiful sight if Emma could just catch her breath.
“I can’t breathe!” Emma yelled again. She thought she might faint. The air was too cool on her skin and it was making her shiver. Too many revelations running through her mind was giving her a headache.
She slumped over and felt a weightlessness take over before everything went black.
She awoke to warmth all around her. It radiated throughout her entire body, like sparks dancing along her skin. It was comforting. The pillow she was on seemed to move in time with every breath she took, and a constant drumming was making her feel safe and secure. Emma tried to burrow further into the blanket but noticed the blanket wasn’t covering her the way it should and that gave the safety she was feeling pause. Emma blinked awake. Her ‘pillow’ was actually Hook; she was laying in the crook of his wing, the other wing serving as her blanket. She realized the drumming was actually Hook’s heartbeat. She gazed around her surroundings and noticed there was a fire burning not too far from where they were lying. The ground felt like rocky terrain, and when Emma looked up into the blackness, she could just make out jagged stone. They were in a cave, Emma realized. She wasn’t sure how far they were from Sherwood Forest, but this must be Hook’s lair.
She slowly dragged Hook’s wing off of her body, not wanting to wake Hook who was still asleep. She’d never seen a sleeping dragon, and it was amazing how peaceful he looked. Like a sleeping puppy dog, not a ferocious dragon. Emma knew in her heart he wasn’t ferocious. Only if he had to be, she was sure. Maybe it was her bond as his dragon rider, but she could sense this about him. She walked over to the fire, amazed at how well it was constructed. She wouldn’t have expected a dragon to know how to put kindling together. Nemo had said he raised Hook, so maybe that was something he had taught him. Emma knew next to nothing about how intelligent dragons were. She was very eager to learn.
The fire was hot against her skin, but it felt good. Like it was burning off the old, naive Emma and replacing her with the new, informed Emma. The one who could now see her mother—Queen Regina—for who she truly was. The woman had never been kind to her, Emma realized. Sure, she had provided for her. She had given her everything a little girl could dream of, but she’d never given her love.
The flapping of wings shook Emma out of her musings. She turned toward Hook, expecting to see him awake and stretching his wings out, but he was still asleep. Confused, Emma followed the sound around the corner and followed a tunnel until she found the large mouth of the cave. From the positioning of the sun, Emma could see she had slept all night. The sun was on the horizon and the sky was slowly turning pink and orange, shaking off the inky blackness of the night. In the distance, she looked for the flapping of wings that she had heard. She could see something flying toward the cave. At first Emma thought it must be a large bird of some kind, but she quickly realized it was another dragon approaching. Dragons were rare; another dragon around here seemed very unlikely. She started to run back to wake up Hook until she heard her name being yelled in the wind.
Turning back, the dragon, which Emma could now see was an iridescent blue, had a rider on it who was yelling her name. As the dragon got closer, Emma could see how similar it looked to Hook. It had the same ridges along its jaw, similar ridges along its back, and almost the exact horns (straight, not hooked) protruding from its head, except all in a shimmering, jeweled blue instead of the red and black Hook had. The dragon’s head was blocking the rider, so Emma could not see who had been calling her until the dragon landed practically at her feet and Belle slid off.
She looked much different than when Emma had last seen her in the forest. The blue dress with tights and black slippers had made her look very young, almost childlike. Her dragon rider clothes consisted of brown leather pants and leather knee-high boots, a burgundy, velvet, lace up corset with gold detailing that had slashed sleeves with gold fabric underneath, and brown leather that went the rest of the way down her arms. A cotton gauze modesty piece that matched the gold fabric in her sleeves came up from the corset and turned into a hood that covered her hair which Emma could tell was pulled back into a low ponytail. She looked almost regal, like how her mother looked when riding her horses. Not a mess like Emma was looking in her torn and ragged dress, which, as she looked down at it, was completely covered in dirt. The braid that Nemo had wrapped her hair in earlier that day practically all fallen out.
“Emma! We were so worried about you!” Belle ran toward her, throwing her arms around her as if they were old friends and not two people who had barely met just a few hours ago. Emma wasn’t sure how to react, her mother—no, Queen Regina—hadn’t exactly been the hugging type. “You just ran off. Thank goodness Hook found you!” Belle said as Emma pulled away. It really hadn’t been Hook finding her. She had called for him and he’d come. But even before then, Emma realized that the voice in her head had led her to him.
“How did you find me?” Emma asked, slightly distressed.
“Jewel, my dragon.” Belle responded as it was completely obvious. Emma had not seen another dragon in the forest. She wondered where Jewel had been hiding when she’d visited the tree hut village. “He’s Hook’s brother.” Belle continued as if that was enough explanation to how they’d found her.
“You’re a dragon rider?” Emma asked incredulously. She wondered why no one had mentioned this before when Nemo had introduced her as Hook’s ride, and then, “Do they live in this cave together?” Emma wondered. And why hadn’t Nemo mentioned his daughter was not only a dragon rider, but also the rider of Hook’s brother?
“Yes.” Belle laughed. “ And…. sometimes.” she continued ambiguously. She lowered her hood to get a better look around before resting her sight back on Emma. “Oh!” Belle pulled something out of the rucksack that Emma hadn’t noticed before. “I brought you something.” She handed a burlap wrapped package to Emma and when she opened it, saw that they were clothes, boots and accessories.
“Thank you!” Emma said, probably giving Belle her first smile all day. She immediately found a shadowy corner and went to change. Emma relished untying the front corset of the dress she had been wearing. She imagined throwing it into the fire once she was fully dressed. The pants she pulled up her legs were made of soft, blue leather. Emma wondered if it was dragonhide or just leather that had been dyed. There was a matching tunic that she put on over a puckered white chemise. She was relieved that the tunic had hook and eye closures and was not something she had to lace up. Black boots, a leather belt with flower embellishments, and soft, dark gray gloves rounded out the ensemble. Before putting on the final pieces, Emma pulled the ribbon holding what was left of her braid from her hair. She ran her fingers through it, getting as many knots out as possible, before braiding the sides and pulling the rest into a ponytail, securing it as best she could with the ribbon. She felt more herself than she had in her entire life.
Emma came out from her corner, expecting to find Belle waiting for her, but instead she found absolutely nothing.
“Belle?” She wondered if Belle and Jewel had gone to see Hook. She hadn’t heard any roaring, although Emma wasn’t entirely sure how dragons communicated with each other either. She walked slowly to the inner cave where she’d woken up earlier. She hadn’t realized how deep the cave was previously. Emma was surprised she’d been able to hear Jewel’s wings. It didn’t make sense. At the moment, she couldn’t hear anything from where she was, even though she’d heard the dragon wings perfectly before. Her ears pricked up when she started to hear what sounded like muffled talking, which was impossible as Belle was the only other person in the cave.
“You have to……brother.” Emma could barely make out what was being said.
‘It’s….and ….we’ve had time…..ran away.” Said another voice, this one sounding vaguely familiar.
“She’s….finished getting…..second.” The voices still sounded like they were underwater to Emma’s ears. Closer and closer she crept all the while feeling a sense of dread coming over her.
“I’ll tell her, brother. Of course I’ll tell her.” Emma’s heart jumped into her throat. She recognized that voice!
“Killian?” She rounded the corner back into the farther cave. Hook was no longer there. Instead, Killian, Belle, and a man she’d never seen before were standing around having their conversation as if it were perfectly normal to talk in a cave. “You’ll tell who what?” she asked, referring to the last thing he’d said. Killian, for his part, looked startled that Emma had so blatantly called him out on whatever he’d been talking about. He actually looked like he was blushing, but Emma chalked it up to the fire. He scratched the back of his neck adorably (no, not adorably, Killian was not adorable in the least).
“Where are Hook and Jewel? How did you get here?” Emma asked, panic overcoming her again. Without Hook she was trapped in this cave. The stranger shot Killian a look at Emma’s question.
The nervous, (not) adorable neck scratch was back, and then Killian’s whole demeanor changed. His back straightened, his arms crossed over his chest (Emma wondered if he owned any shirts that didn’t show off his chest hair), and the smirk was back on his face.
“Why princess? Are you afraid to be alone with me?” His voice dripped pure sin, and Emma gave a slight shiver despite the fire to her back. But she wouldn’t be backed into a corner. She scoffed.
“Please, someone with an overinflated ego like yours must obviously be compensating for something.” She didn’t know what made her say it. She’d heard her Regina say it to someone once; a king from a neighboring kingdom who thought he’d be able to conquer the queen. Regina had spit that out to him and then threw one of her signature fireballs at him, not enough to kill him, but his leg would definitely have a nasty burn on it for the rest of his life.
Killian’s eyes went wide at her banter. It actually filled Emma with warmth that she’d managed to shock him. She’d show him that under this innocent exterior, Princess Emma was no wilting flower. She’d been chosen as a dragon rider; that had to count for something.
From behind Killian, Emma heard laughter from Belle and the stranger. The man had lighter hair than Killian’s, and was curly instead of straight. He came up to Killian and pounded him on the back in jest. “She’s got you there, little brother!” the man guffawed.
Brother?
“It’s younger brother!” Killian said, quite annoyed, slapping his brother’s hands away from him in a way that suggested to Emma that this was something that occurred often. “There’s nothing little about me, so I’m not compensating for anything, princess.” He was right in her face now, that stupid smirk that showed all his teeth just a breath away.
“Leave the poor girl alone, Killian,” Belle said, clearly exasperated by his antics. “She’s been ripped away from everything she’s ever known and told her whole life has been a lie. I think she deserves some more answers, don’t you?” She fixed him a look that said she meant business, and Killian backed down. Emma had known she liked Belle the first moment she saw her. Anyone that could put Killian in his place was okay by her.
They all seated themselves on various rocks near the fire, and it appeared to Emma as if they knew exactly where to seat themselves. As if they spent a lot of time in this cave. Which was strange to say the least. But then, they also lived in tree huts in a forest, and Emma was apparently a kidnapping victim that just happened to be raised in a castle, so who was she to judge where they liked to spend their time.
“Who are you?” Emma asked the man who she now knew was Killian’s brother.
“Liam Jones, at your service,” he said, giving a little seated bow. Belle giggled at his antics while Killian huffed and rolled his eyes.
“How did you and Killian get up here? And where are the dragons?” Both Killian and Liam looked slightly stricken at this question. Belle seemed like she was going to answer, but then thought better of it and clasped her hands in her lap. The whole interaction was odd. Emma was about to ask her question again when Killian spoke up.
“When Liam and I were younger, our mother died and our father abandoned us.” He began in a low tone. “I couldn’t have been more than five and Liam just thirteen. I can’t even imagine how Liam must have felt to have had a family one minute and then nothing the next. I don’t remember much of our parents. Probably couldn’t even point out my father if I were to meet him in the street, I just know that once Nemo found us a few years later, I felt a father’s love for the first time that I could remember.” Belle took Killian’s hand in hers as he remembered his childhood in a soothing manner. A spike of jealousy sprang up inside her, and Emma squashed it just as quickly. Just because Killian was a good-looking man didn’t mean she had any feelings for him. Besides, he and Belle both considered Nemo their father, so Emma was sure they just had sibling-type feelings for each other. Just a sister making her brother feel better by stroking the top of his hand.
“There’s a reason he is called Captain Nemo. He used to be a Navy captain in Snow White’s kingdom.” Emma raised her eyebrows at this, but realized it wasn’t that much of a surprise since they’d been part of the tree hut village. “I’d always wanted to sail on a ship. Imagine my surprise when I found out he didn’t sail a ship but captained a submarine!” Emma wasn’t sure what a submarine was, and it must have shown on her face.
“It’s a ship that goes underwater. Like a big metal tube.” Belle offered. Emma just nodded as if that made sense. For as much as she snuck out of the castle, there was still so little she had seen in the world.
“It was just meself down there,” Killian continued. “Liam couldn’t go down there having already hit puberty. Nemo paid for him to apprentice at a swordsmith shop until I also hit puberty and wouldn’t be able to travel under the water anymore.”
Emma was still thoroughly confused. Did Killian and Liam have some ailment which made it impossible for them to travel under the water when they hit puberty? Wasn’t puberty just a man’s voice deepening and growing taller and getting body hair ( thank you, Anne for telling me what was happening with my body when it started to change )?
“I still don’t understand,” she was getting frustrated now. Emma understood that she was uneducated about many things in the world, but she felt like she was missing something really big.
Killian snuck a look over to Liam and Belle who seemed to give him their own looks of encouragement to go on. “The dragons, Hook and Jewel, are still here.” He said, exhaling a long breath. The change of topic didn’t help Emma understand anything any better.
“Where are they?” She asked. Goosebumps were forming on her skin despite the fire next to her. This whole situation made no sense to her. “Are they further down the cave?” Emma wasn’t even going to address the fact that Liam had appeared from nowhere until Killian gave her answers about the current predicament. She rubbed her arms even though she was wearing long sleeves and Killian couldn’t see the raised bumps.
“No,” the smirk was back, but this time it gave off an air of him knowing something that she didn’t. “The dragons are right in front of you.” Emma did not detect a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Killian,” Liam said in an exasperated tone. He gave his brother something akin to a death glare (Emma had seen these types of glares from the queen right before she threw a fireball at someone she was annoyed with—Liam wasn’t anywhere in her league). “Just tell the lass. Stop dragging it out, and stop flirting with the poor girl.”
Emma’s whole body stiffened. This was Killian flirting? This childish behavior with the snide comments, and…
Oh.
Oh.
He’d been flirting with her this morning too. She’d caught the whole two ships passing line, but she thought he was being facetious about the whole ordeal. Emma could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks and down her whole body. Hopefully, the glow of the fire would mask it. But she could see Killian rubbing the back of his neck, something which looked like a nervous habit on his part. Was he nervous? He hadn’t seemed nervous a moment ago
Killian closed his eyes and licked his lips. Emma knew he was trying to get the courage to tell her whatever he was trying to get at, but it was the single sexiest thing she had ever seen in her life. She was definitely overheating now and it was not from the fire.
“Look, I quite fancy you. When you’re not yelling at me.” Emma was shocked. Absolutely gobsmacked. This was not the Killian she’d encountered the past few times. He’d seemed like he enjoyed taunting her, riling her up. He did not seem one to make heartfelt confessions. But he wasn’t quite done yet. “Please don’t yell at me for what I’m about to show you.” He took a deep breath and Emma immediately started screaming.
Horns started to jut out from his head which was rapidly becoming covered with black and red scales. His nose, mouth, and chin had elongated themselves into a snout. The rest of his body started to extend as well, with black scales becoming more prominent than his skin. Large wings popped from his back and extended down his arms, and claws protruded from his fingers and toes. Killian Jones stood in front of her no more. Hook was now staring at her intently with his blue eyes as Liam and Belle tried to calm her down.
“He’s a…he’s a…” Emma couldn’t even get the word out. Her brain could hardly perceive what she had just seen.
“It’s alright, Emma,” Belle said, trying to soothe her. “I know it’s a shock, but you’ll get used to it.”
“Get used to it?” Emma went from freak out to angry in two seconds flat. “I just found out that the man I loathe is also my dragon! How would you feel if that happened to you?” She screeched.
Belle and Liam gave each other a look and Emma knew they knew the feeling all too well. Killian’s memories of Liam not being able to go on a submarine because he’d hit puberty made more sense now.
“Liam’s a dragon too,” Emma said, finally catching up. “He’s Jewel.” Emma didn’t even know what to do with this information. She’d learned so much in the past two days that she didn’t think she could handle anymore.
You alright, love? Came a voice that was distinctly in her head.
“Who said that?” The thought that she might pass out again was definitely crossing her mind.
Belle looked as though she were about to answer, but Liam gave Hook a kick in the shins. “Turn back and talk to her normally, you bastard.” Hook grimaced at this, which was a bizarre sight to see, and it almost calmed Emma to see human attributes on such a vicious-looking creature. Hook immediately started morphing back into the human form of Killian Jones.
“Sorry, love,” Killian said almost sheepishly. “I can’t do more than roar when I’m a dragon, but I can speak to you telepathically.”
“It was you,” Emma had just connected the dots. “It was you I heard when I was running away in the woods. That’s how you knew to find me. You led me straight to you.” The hand was back behind his neck again.
“Aye,” Killian responded, his eyes sparkling, almost glowing in the firelight. “There are a few areas in the woods that are suitable for me to transform. Once you ran off, I went there and guided you back to the clearing we had landed in.” He looked at her earnestly, like his only goal was to make sure she had been safe. It confused her, the way he could turn the swagger on and off. One minute he was all sex and the next he was overly attentive. And speaking of attention…
“So when you met me in town, did you know who I was? Where I was from?” she asked accusingly. It seemed highly unlikely that this band of rebels randomly picked her to be Hook’s dragon rider. Getting her alone as vengeance against the queen would make sense in the grand scheme of things. Liam and Belle immediately left to go to the other area of the cave. Killian’s eyes went wide and looked almost desperate, and Emma could see her accusation was a mistake.
“We don’t make it public…. how the dragon riders are chosen,” he began by way of explanation, watching as his brother and Belle left the conversation. “Most people assume that the dragon picks someone at random. The truth is, I knew you were my rider the moment we met.” He was walking closer to her now, the distance between them becoming almost next to nothing. He stopped with barely an inch to spare between them. Emma took in a sharp breath and could smell his unique scent, leather and sea salt, and it gave her an odd sense of calm. “When we had our little…encounter in town, did you not feel our connection immediately?” Emma started to shake her head in protest. Sure, they’d flirted briefly, but it had turned to anger the moment he’d tried propositioning her.
Killian tried again. “Did you not see it?” He grabbed her hands desperately and pulled her closer, forcing Emma to look directly into his eyes that were shining in the firelight, and for the first time, Emma realized they were actually glowing, not just reflecting off the light. They were calling to her like a beacon.
“I don’t understand,” Emma said for what felt like the millionth time in the past two days.
Killian’s fingers lightly caressed her cheek. “Have you ever heard the expression ‘eyes are windows to the soul’?” Emma nodded as Killian’s fingers continued to explore her face, then her ear as he brushed back an errant hair, and then swept down her neck. She had never felt this way in her life. Her blood was practically singing and she felt like she would explode the way his fingers barely grazed her overheated skin (that she could not blame on the fire).
“In a dragon’s case, the eyes show us who our mate is. Who our soul is bound to.” His eyes were boring into her, his deep stare causing goosebumps to spread over her entire body. “You caught me completely off guard with that ridiculous apple.”
Emma couldn’t take it anymore. She almost laughed. But between his voice and his radiant eyes, she felt like her body was about to combust. She grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him toward her until their lips met. Emma had, of course, been kissed before. As much as her mother had tried to keep her sheltered, there were still stable boys and smith apprentices, and even an occasional bodyguard, but none of them felt like what kissing Killian felt like. The immediate spark between their lips was like a current running through her. It went from her head to her toes and threatened to burst out of her. When Killian recovered from his shock of her making the first move and finally started kissing her back, she could have sworn she felt a wave of pure energy explode from her.
Killian stumbled back slightly, his eyes wide as if he had felt the energy explosion too. The blue of his eyes were so bright she thought she might be blinded by them. Killian looked adorably confused at what had just happened (apparently she was using adorable to describe him now). He squinted at her as if her eyes were also blinding him (maybe they were), and then swept his eyes down the rest of her. His eyes got comically large again. Emma was about to remind him where her eyes were when Liam and Belle rushed into the room, their faces stricken like they were panicking.
“What the hell was that?” Liam’s voice boomed throughout the cavern. Killian immediately jumped in front of her, though Emma had no idea why.
“What the hell was what?” Emma asked, genuinely confused, again.
“That big rush of rainbow light that just rushed through here?” Belle asked. Her face was one of concern that they didn’t seem to know what she was talking about.
“Killian, what are they talking about?” Emma whispered from behind him. A second ago this would have been sexy as hell, but now she was afraid. She wasn’t sure what was happening. Surely Liam and Belle couldn’t have felt the energy she’d felt from the kiss.
Killian turned slowly to face her. He slowly cupped her face with his hands and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. His hands came down and she expected him to grab her hands, but instead, they slid down her arms and stopped at her wrists.
“I think,” he said, stopping to mull over his words as if thinking of the right way to say what he needed to say. “I think the queen may have cursed you, and,” he took a deliberate breath before delivering the next piece of information, “I think we just broke it with True Love’s Kiss.”
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another late contribution for this year's CS Supernatural Summer - hopefully it'll be worth your while ! i clearly lied last year so i'm posting the long-awaited second chapter of last year's entry today. you should definitely check out the first chapter before.
i hope you like it and feel free to share your thoughts!
thank you so much to @th3capta1n for being my beta
Summary: Ever since he was a boy, Killian Jones could see ghosts. Some were kind, others were a nuisance and rarely, he found the worst of them. This time he meets a woman who remembers nothing, except her name. Together, they’ll find out her story and help each other.
Word count: 7211 words
Rating: Teen and Up
tag list: @thisonesatellite @profdanglaisstuff @winterbaby89 @stahlop @winterbythesea @sotangledupinit
read on AO3 | read the first chapter here and AO3
Chapter Two The Swan
“Alright, can we all just calm down?”
Killian stepped away from the table under the looks of barely contained excitement from Emma and Henry. One of them should have a leveled head and it apparently fell on him.
“There is a mysterious book written in a completely foreign language that conveniently appears exactly when we need it and you’re not even the slightest bit suspicious?” His nervous expression didn’t seem to dissuade his audience as they just smiled.
“It’s clearly a magic book.”
“It’s magic, Mr. Jones!”
He exhaled a defeated sigh as he threw his head back.
“Magic? That’s your justification?”
“Mr. Jones,” Henry crossed his arms with a completely unimpressed look that almost put his mother’s to shame. “My gym teacher is a mermaid and a werewolf serves me hot chocolate every Friday. Magic is the only explanation.”
There was a satisfied smile on Emma's face as she mimicked the boy’s pose.
"So, Mr. Jones." Emma's use of his last name called his attention to her. "Do you have any other easily explainable issues or can you take a leap of faith and see what's in that magical book?"
A leap of faith. As he looked between Henry's eager eyes and Emma's worriedly excited expression, he thought he could. That it would take the sheer belief in a centuries old ghost and a 10-year-old boy to get him to believe wasn't lost on him.
"Fine." Killian sighed amused at the excitement clear on Henry's face. He turned a reassuring smile to Emma's steadying breath. "Let's see if the magic book has some answers."
“Yes!” Henry was quick to reach for the book while rushing around the desk to sit at Killian’s chair.
“You said it was written by Alice Jones?” Killian asked as he stepped to Henry’s left side.
“Do you know her?”
“Alice was my mother’s name, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen her write a book, much less in a language she didn’t speak.”
“Maybe it’s your ancestor?” Emma offers. “I have been dead for a long time.”
“My mother named me after my grandpa, maybe it’s the same?”
Killian’s fingers stroke the ring still clutched in his hand trying to rationalize their suggestion. “This situation just gets curiouser and curiouser.”
“Maybe I should read the book?”
“We should see what Alice Jones has to tell us.”
Killian nods. Trusting a mystery book seemed to be the least crazy thing for him today.
There is a story that no one knows, the story of the Princess and the Huntsman. Of how they fell in love and wished for happily ever after. The story that no one knows but me.
“I can see now why you’re so dramatic.”
Killian rolled his eyes at the teasing kid - and the snickering ghost - despite the uptick of his lip, gesturing for him to carry on reading.
Misthaven was a kingdom of peace and prosperity and it had been so since before my youth. Its people loved their royalty and they loved them back. Those good times didn’t last for long. I remember my mother’s solemn face as she returned from work - a handmaiden to the Queen must be her confidant, but even she couldn’t keep Queen Snow’s worry to herself.
Ships with black sails threatened to surround Misthaven’s borders; black armored knights terrorized provinces; a menacing cloud of dark magic frightened everyone.
No powerful villain stepped forward to claim such attacks and no accomplice confessed. The Queen appeared to be frightful even as she summoned every war council available.
Despite their efforts, the darkness seemed undefeatable. The fairies’ light magic barely managed to keep it at bay. The kingdom needed a solution.
A neighboring kingdom housed a powerful King. A King whose army was unbeaten by any forces that threatened him. A King whose power didn’t compare to Misthaven’s light. A King who wanted unlimited power. King Rumplestilskin.
Misthaven was, for a while, blessedly ignorant over the imminent threat. As well as its young Prince. As for Princess Emma, she had been allowed to participate in the war councils presided by her parents since she became of age. Now, a decade after the first, she was more than ready and shared opinions with intelligence and level-headedness.
Killian could see Emma’s blush covering her cheeks and he wished he could hold her hand. He wished she wouldn’t be so surprised to hear such compliments. He wished a lot when it came to Emma.
I have been her handmaid since we were both children. I have watched her grow beside me, never feeling like less, but like an equal. I still hold fond memories of afternoons of joy and companionship. I also learned things that I will take to my grave, however her story of love won’t be one of them and for that I apologize. This I do to guarantee my princess’ rescue.
“Do you want me to keep reading, Emma?”
She seemed startled from Henry’s sudden stop, looking from the book, to the boy and back before looking at Killian. He hoped she saw the reassurance he was trying to show. She nodded.
“You can carry on, lad.”
Henry nodded and cleared his throat.
Once she became of age, there was no end to the line of suitors hoping to gain her hand in marriage. (Killian pushed down on the surge of jealousy in his chest.) However, the Queen and her Prince had married for love and they wished the same on their daughter. Every suitor she refused was led out with a tight lipped smile and well wishes. There was no talk of arranged marriages for the throne was hers regardless of matrimony.
And the Princess treasured her freedom - if not of life, of heart. Her father had started his life as a shepherd and was now the Queen’s prince consort. Perhaps an unknown sailor would have the same luck.
But it was no sailor or baker who won such honor as to hold the Princess’ heart in his hand. It was a huntsman.
As the Princess’ closest friend and confidant, I was able to hear about their first meeting, when he was nothing but a crude hunter. How she had been out for a pleasant ride. How he was ready to kill a defenseless deer. How she didn’t quite like my reminder that her table was regularly filled with defenseless animals too. How she blushed and said her issue was his rudeness, not his eating habits. How he had finally let the animal go. How she could not stop talking about him for the next few days.
I was also able to witness their second interaction. See the Princess’ provoked by the handsome Huntsman’s quips. See how she liked his quick wit and he enjoyed the irritated blush on her cheeks. See how she gave him her name with her nose in the sky and how he smiled and gave her his. I was able to hear it all again for the next week.
During the next month, Emma would go see him alone. And when she came back, there was always something to talk about. From the annoyance she felt about him to the quiet confession about her restless heart when around him. From the way he had almost hit her with an arrow to the way he had helped her off her horse. From the way he was also too close to the way he was never close enough. From crude hunter to Graham.
“Graham…”
Her whisper caught his attention and he saw a multitude of emotions behind her eyes.
“Do you remember him?” Killian asked.
Henry had stopped reading and was now looking between them.
“I do.” Her voice quivered and when she looked at him, he saw her glassy eyes.
“Should I stop?”
That seemed to bring Emma back, the determination replacing the grief.
“No, I need to know how it ends.”
“Are you sure, love?”
“I am.” The strong tone in her voice was enough to convince him even as worry filled him.
Killian nodded to Henry who seemed to feel the same as him.
Emma wished to keep him secret. He didn’t know she was the Princess, as he seemed to have lived in the woods since childhood and she wanted to keep it as such. She wanted to keep the pressure away from their budding romance. For that’s what it was. From blushing cheeks to tangled hair. To stained riding pants. To-
“I think you should skip to the next paragraph, lad.” Killian insisted as he scratched behind his ear.
“Why? What does this mean?”
“It just means that Emma and Graham became boyfriend and girlfriend.” He screamed internally as he wished he didn’t have to have this conversation with his boss’ son.
He didn’t have to look at Emma to see her blushed cheeks and embarrassment.
“Oohh!” Henry’s expression would have made him laugh if he wasn’t so focusedly hoping that the subject be put to rest. “I understand.”
He really hoped for this not to get back to Regina. She’d kill him faster than one can say ‘fireball’.
Their secret courtship turned into love. Her books were filled with dried flowers, one for every encounter. I was the only one who knew of their relationship. Despite her trust in her mother, Emma knew how difficult it would be to bring Graham into this life, keeping the Queen in the dark was the only way to assure the ease in their romance.
However, every good thing must come to an end.
The threat becomes more dangerous. The dark magic encroaches them. There is no other solution. The fairies’ light magic isn’t strong enough. Emma wants to help, as she did before.
Once, when the Princess was no older than 11 years old, Prince James invaded the kingdom. A Prince from a kingdom led to poverty by its careless royalty. A Prince who wasted his years fighting battles that did not involve his kingdom and spending its money. Until his father died and there was no kingdom left to rule - its people either migrated or dead. A Prince who was the Prince Consort’s twin, since the King had wanted a child and took one of the shepherd’s wife’s twins, a mother who only wished the best for her children. A mother who accepted the deal to make sure her babies did not succumb to illness.
Prince James invaded the kingdom claiming injustice for the way his twin brother’s life had progressed while he rotted away in misery. It should have been a quick matter to resolve had it not been the dragon whose wrath James had unleashed on the kingdom. The dragon had wreaked havoc in the kingdom and as everyone watched, threatened to burn the royal family to a crisp had it not been for the burst of magic that saved them.
No one knew exactly what happened, but the ones who saw remember seeing a bright white light coming from the Princess making her resemble a wide winged bird - a swan. The dragon was quick to escape as the wave of magic because there was no other name for it, incapacitated Prince James and his crew. Everyone clamored Emma’s bravery and songs were written and played in the streets.
However, despite their efforts that seemed to be the only magical experience the Princess would experience. Nothing the fairies did seemed to bring forth another hint or spark from the young girl. Songs were corrected and Emma’s magical achievements were seen as a simple blessing, a power born from her parent’s true love that protected the family. They called her the Swan Princess - not only for the circumstance of her magic, but also for the fact that under her beauty hid a vicious bravery.
To say that Emma had been disappointed over her magical failure was an understatement. But so much like her family, she chose not to give up and dedicate herself to learning sword fighting from the soldiers, something she could actually grasp.
And now, just as before, Emma wants to help. She offers to join the soldiers, defend her home and her people. Unfortunately, that is not what her parents have in mind. “We can’t risk losing you, Emma”, They said. “We need a powerful alliance.” And Emma was smart enough to understand what they meant even before they confessed their plans.
An arranged marriage. Something she had been assured all her life wouldn’t happen. The tears that fall down her face are unconscious as she begs her parents for a different solution. She speaks to them, for the first time, of how her heart belongs to another even though his name is never even whispered. But Emma knows. This is her parent’s plan, the only solution that will keep her and the kingdom safe. So she accepts, even as her heart breaks.
I try to console her tears that night, to no avail.
The arranged marriage would be to the Kingdom’s closest neighbor. A Kingdom whose King owns the strongest army. A Kingdom whose King has fathered only one son, close to Emma’s age. Give or take a couple of years. There isn’t much to say about Prince Baelfire. King Rumplestilskin shelters him from everyone, practically confined to the castle. His mother escaping a life of such imprisonment, according to rumors, by joining a band of pirates. The young man is said to be a fairly nice Prince, educated and capable.
This union would entail a merging of Kingdoms. Such creation would result in the strongest Kingdom in existence. A merging that still required more planning, were not for the desperation of Queen Snow and Prince David for Misthaven.
But Emma’s stubbornness is unrivaled. Her room is vacant the next morning when I arrive to wake her up. Nothing, but a letter. A letter explaining that she will be leaving in search of another solution. That her heart is not ready to forget her love. That despite the love she has for her kingdom, she doesn’t wish to marry someone she doesn’t love. But she promises to return, after she finds a solution or once she realizes her journey is fruitless.
At the breakfast table, the Queen, her Prince and the Princeling await the arrival of the heiress. They receive me and the letter. Their expressions are full of pain and the whole castle is sent to a frenzy as they prepare an expedition to find her.
As a handmaiden, I am given no task except to wait for my charge. But I know I must attempt to find her. She is my Princess, but most of all, a friend, the only one I’ve ever had. The journey to that place in the woods isn’t familiar, but it takes merely a blink of an eye. But the camp is empty. The Huntsman has left - not in search of a new home but, I suspectbecause a stubbornly determined Princess has asked for his help in her quest.
The Princess has always been more than capable to defend for herself, that is without doubt. She who survives a dragon, can survive much worse. But I worry. And such worry is blinding when it comes to the ones you love.
Killian pretends not to notice Emma’s quiet sniff.
The Blue Fairy was known by all of Misthaven. If there was ever a blue star in the sky, children were told to wish upon it for she would grant their wishes if they were pure of heart. A child’s story for centuries, she seemed to be on familiar terms with the royal family.
The Blue Fairy was, once, Misthaven’s savior. When Queen Snow was but a runaway Princess, she was the one who helped her regain her throne. Regardless of her lack of involvement now, I was sure she would still be eager to help. My worry grew when Emma hadn’t gone to her first.
Under the shade of a willow tree, I called for her. My heart was put to the test but it seemed to be pure enough. Her voice called my name and there she was, in front of me. She was the size of a human, not as small as an acorn as my mother had told. It didn’t matter, in the end. I urged for her help, to bring back my Princess safe and sound.
Her magic was a light blue and it felt cool to the touch. I saw as she surrounded herself with magic and then sigh in disappointment as it got warmer once more. She said that my wish was a wish she couldn’t fulfill, for my Princess was no longer safe and sound. “Emma is no longer in our plane, I’m afraid she has been taken from us.” She explained and I attempted to fight my tears.
His hand reaches for hers, subconsciously. The cold feeling extends to his whole hand as he sees Emma do the same. There was no feeling of her hand in his, but there was something.
I begged for another wish. I wished for a way to save Emma. A way to bring her back to the people who loved her. My vision was filled with blue and I was able to feel the coolness of the Blue Fairy’s magic. I felt no different. “Your wish was granted. I have given you all I can to realize your heart’s desire.” It wasn’t much of an explanation.
Magic, she said, was as hard to explain as it was to understand. Their magic came from a higher entity, a Sorcerer. A powerful being capable of seeing the future. She couldn’t bring Emma back as it was far beyond her capabilities, but she had granted my wish, given me a tool that would help. I saw her when a blur of yellow caught my attention. She was sitting closer to the branches as if she had been there since I had arrived, but that wasn’t possible. I hadn't seen her.
There was an odd expression in the Blue Fairy’s face when I asked about her. Though I received no explanation except for an expression of grief in her face, I was told as to what gift I had been given. A capacity to see those who are no longer in the plane of the living.
"How will I be able to bring her back with this?" I asked, feeling as if the Fairy's help hadn't been so helpful. "This gift will help you save the Princess." Cryptic as all magic is. I tried not to feel frustrated as I exited the willow tree. When I reached the Huntsman's camp, I saw him.
I was angry and I snapped as I could only think he had left Emma alone. He simply looked at me with surprise. Surprised, I learned, that I was able to see him. He told me how he had attempted to beg for help from anyone whose path he'd crossed, but no one seemed to see him.
He was dead.
"He was dead."
That was the only explanation. As cryptic as magic was, it seemed to work. I wasted no time asking for Emma's whereabouts. He told me that he had been killed at the neighboring Kingdom's castle when Emma and he had requested an urgent meeting with the King.
The shrill sound of a phone startled them all. Henry took a breath as he saw the name on his phone's screen.
"It's my mother." One look at the clock and he winced. "I was supposed to be in her office ten minutes ago."
"Go, lad, we'll stay here." Killian reassured the curious boy as he glanced at Emma's expression, an expression of grief that clawed at his heart.
"I'll be back." In a rush that none of the other adults could muster, he exited the library.
"Are you alright, Emma?" He gave her a moment in the silence, hoping her whirling thoughts had the chance to calm.
"I can't believe I would forget all of this. I would forget falling in love, the love of my family."
"It isn't your fault, there is clearly something else at work here."
When she looked into his eyes, his heart broke. There was pain, grief, anger. "I remember what happened, I remember why Graham died. I know who did this."
300 years earlier
His hand in hers gave her strength, strength she wasn't sure she felt. Emma needed this mission to be successful, she didn't intend to spend her life attached to someone she didn't love, burdened by duties that she never thought she had to fulfill. Her heart was still set on saving her kingdom and she would, if there was no other way, but she needed to try first.
The halls of the castle were cold, quiet and dark. There was a prickling under her skin at every step, as if she was being watched, pursued. There was an eagerness in the dark corners of the room, eager to pull you in, drag you. The great hall wasn't better - still as cold, quiet and dark as the rest of the castle. And the man sitting on the large throne was the epitome of darkness.
He wore a wide, almost mad, smile, his eyes expectant. She felt like a prey. Graham's hand was no longer wrapped in hers, but she still felt his strong presence. She had a hunter on her side, it would all work out.
Next to his father's throne, sat a young man, close to her age. Give or take a year. Prince Baelfire, of course. A curious man, he was. The darkness didn't seem to reach him but entrap him. He seemed fragile - not by choice.
“Welcome to Aur, your Highness.”
As she was taught, Emma bowed. And so did Graham, playing the part of her escort. She saw the Prince bow to her from the corner of her eye and ignored his father’s admonishing gesture in response.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit in this early morning?”
Emma swallowed at the predatorial look in his eyes. It didn’t help that there was no one else in the room but the four of them. She could sense Graham’s discomfort matching hers.
“I’ve come to discuss the agreement you have made with my parents.” She attempted to keep her voice determined, brave - all she knew she was despite the threatening aura of the room.
“Yes, Prince Baelfire and I are looking forward to this union.”
“That’s what I wanted to discuss, your Majesty. You see, I don’t wish to marry your son if there is another alternative.” She held her breath as the royal looked at her, analytical. Emma sees Prince Baelfire await his father’s judgment - no disappointment, no joy, merely expectant with a hint of fear.
“It doesn’t seem to be your decision, is it, Princess? Your parents, as rulers of the Kingdom, have blessed this union, therefore there is no other choice.”
“I understand that it was their decision, but I am here hoping to reach another solution. The merging of our two Kingdoms won’t be easy and it might lead to complications with lineage.” As she speaks, she realizes just how complicated this deal is.
“I have no intention in merging our Kingdoms, Your Highness, so there will be no complications.” King Rumplestilskin’s smile turns wider, his eyes glinting with excitement. Prince Baelfire lowers his head at his words. Graham takes a step closer to her.
“What do you mean?” Emma was confused. There was a feeling deep in her gut that told her to run - her stubbornness was unrivaled. “My parent-”
“Your parents made a deal with me. I would help them with their threat in exchange for you marrying my son.” His giggle was manic and caused shivers down Emma’s spine. “They were so desperate, poor things, that they didn’t question my intentions.”
“And what are your intentions?”
“To take over Misthaven, of course. You’ll marry my son ensuring lineage and after your parents mysteriously pass away, I will be free to reign Misthaven as I see fit.”
“And what makes you think I will let that happen?” There was a scowl in Emma’s face as she balls her fists.
“There is nothing you can do about it, dearie.” Rumplestilskin rises from his chair, a far more threatening presence than she expected. “You underestimate my power.” He makes his way slowly to her. “Who do you think has been terrorizing Misthaven in order to make this happen?”
“It was you…” She whispered, reluctantly surprised. “But how? You don’t have magic. Especially not magic as dark as that.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Emma tried not to feel like a caged animal as he began walking in a circle around her. “But I made a friend, a friend who does indeed wield such magic. A friend whose plans match mine.”
“You won’t get away with this, I promise you that.”
Her threat lost its power at the King’s loud laugh. He seemed relaxed as if she posed no danger to his plan. And she believed it, it made her feel small. She wasn’t accustomed to being made to feel small.
“There is nothing you can do, dearie.”
With a snap of his fingers, dark tendrils wrapped around the two visitors. While her restraints seemed focused on her wrists, Rumplestilskin had Graham by the neck. As strong as he was trying to be, he was no match for such powerful magic.
“Please, he has nothing to do with this, just let him go!” Emma kept her eyes on the King’s hoping he wouldn’t see exactly how much it hurt to see Graham suffer as he was.
But she couldn’t help it.
She could pinpoint the moment he noticed, the way his smile widened and his tongue ran through his teeth - like a crocodile preparing to eat his prey. Her heart hammered against her chest praying to every entity she knew for their safety.
But no one was listening.
There was a crack and a heavy body falling to the ground. Her heart stopped. Her future destroyed in a second. The love of her life gone. There was no stopping the distraught cry that exploded out of her.
She didn’t notice how she had freed herself until she had her arms around Graham’s lifeless body. Her tears had landed on his unmoving face. And there was silence around her. She saw the King’s unconscious form laying on the floor as well as the absence of dark magic. A burst of magic, it seemed, to save her.
Unfortunately, not to save her from heartbreak, as she continued to hold a dead Graham in her arms. Her hands caressed his face and she felt it growing cold under her touch. She wished, more than anything, to have him open his eyes, to have him smile at her one more time.
“Princess?” A too small voice from a young man startled her and she raised one hand, hoping for another burst of magic to save her - but there was nothing, not even a spark.
Thankfully, she knew where her Huntsman kept his dagger and she quickly wielded it. She kept herself embracing him, however, one hand on his face.
“Take one more step and you’ll regret it.” Her voice was shaky but her determined stare wasn’t.
To her surprise, the dagger pointed at him doesn’t seem to frighten Prince Baelfire. He approaches with his hands raised to his chest until he stops a step away from her.
“I’m sorry.” He sounds honest in his whispered words as he looks into her eyes.
Emma lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and her whole being deflates as even the dagger falls to the floor. She turns back to the man laying on her lap, her hand cupping his cheek.
“If you must kill me, do so now. Your father won’t have my Kingdom.” Her voice is small, not usual for her.
“I have no intentions of killing you or of marrying you.”
That calls her attention and she looks back to the Prince.
“I simply do as my father wishes, he’s a powerful man.” He sighs as he kneels in front of her. “I have been carrying this for years.” Her eyes watch him closely as he removes a small vial from his coat pocket. “And I think it’s supposed to help you.”
“What is that?” She is wary, nothing good should come from such a dark liquid.
“I’m not quite sure, I was never fond of magic. I found it in the library. It had a note.” He removes a small paper from the same pocket which he gives to her.
She will need this.
“Who is ‘she’?”
“I don’t know. There isn’t anyone I know who would need this but you. My father won’t give up. This is all I can do to help.” He extends the vial to her.
“How do I know you speak the truth?” She took the vial even as she kept her eyes on him.
“I don’t know. But I am.” The Prince shrugged his shoulders as he returned the eye contact. She had always been able to tell when someone was lying to her. He was telling the truth.
Both turned when they heard a groan from their right. Rumplestilskin was regaining consciousness. She needed to act fast.
“Thank you.” She quickly said to the Prince as she removed the cork from the vial.
There was no time for second thoughts. It was trusting a mysterious vial with an even more mysterious message or seeing her Kingdom conquered by this villain.
With a deep breath and a final look to her hunter, she drank the strange liquid to the last drop.
Everything went black.
Now
“The potion killed you, then.” Killian didn’t know what to think, it had been a strange story. He wasn’t sure whether he’d like to hug Emma or punch someone who had probably been dead for centuries.
“I don’t think so… Remember the garden?” Killian nodded. “No other ghost has been there, I don’t think I was dead.”
“Aye, I just-” Killian interrupts himself when he turns to her. There is the wet streak of a tear on her cheek. “I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry about Graham.” His hand inches closer to hers.
“That’s alright, I remembered…”
The door opens suddenly for Henry to run inside.
“My mum is going for a meeting so I still have an hou- is everything alright?” Henry asks as he looks at Killian’s expression. The small lamp on his desk flickers on and off slowly. “Emma?”
His call seems to catch her attention. She turns to him with a small smile.
“I’m alright.” The lamp stops flickering.
“Everything’s alright, lad.” His smile is reassuring and Henry seems to deflate as he feels a more calm environment.
Wanting to give Emma a few moments to rearrange her thoughts, Killian busies himself giving Henry a resumed version of what Emma had told him.
“So that Baelfire turned her into a ghost!”
“Actually, the potion did.”
“Someone must have given that to him, someone who knew what was going to happen!” Killian swore he could see the cogs in Henry’s brain turn.
“Perhaps we’ll get some answers if we carry on reading.” Emma’s voice seemed back to normal, quieter but more herself. Looking into her eyes, she nodded.
“Aye, we should keep reading, lad.”
“Right!” Henry quickly ran to the book that had remained open on the desk.
Graham told me what happened. How the King-
“Okay, she’s saying what we know, I’m just going to skip.” Henry interrupted.
After he passed away, there was too much. Too much confusion, too many sounds, too many colors. Once he was able to concentrate on his whereabouts, all he saw was Emma laid on the floor next to him as Rumplestiltskin paced angry. Prince Baelfire seemed to be telling him how Emma had killed herself out of grief. How she had taken a potion, a poison he assumed, how he had been unable to stop her.
“He’s protecting you.” Henry seemed surprised by the revelation.
“He didn’t seem to be as bad as his father.” Emma admitted.
“Aye, the lad had courage.”
Unfortunately, there was nothing else I could do. I couldn’t go to the castle to retrieve the Princess nor could I tell the Queen where she was. While magic is common, talking to the deceased did not seem to be something that would be celebrated.
“Right you are.” Killian whispered. Henry turned to him followed by Emma, making him blush. He cleared his throat. “Carry on, lad.”
It was hard to see how distraught the Royal Family was about the Princess’ disappearance. The castle seemed too quiet at times and her room even emptier. But it didn’t take long to receive news. Prince Baelfire arrived at court with Emma’s body carried by a fleet of guards.
The tall ceilings of the hall echoed the Queen’s cry of anguish as she saw her only daughter’s lifeless body. The Prince with a wall of bravery behind his heartbreak, commanded the servants to take Emma to another room. Everyone was dismissed. As the last to leave, I saw as the Prince attempted to comfort his wife, even as he cried with her.
Prince Baelfire was quick to leave the castle. I, however, couldn’t stay far from my Princess. I followed the procession as they took Emma to a guest room. I entered as they did, but did not leave as they did. I touched her hand, it wasn’t cold, it was rigid, it was as if she was sleeping. Graham stood by my side, a mournful expression in his eyes as he kneeled at her bedside. I pretended not to see his sadness as he attempted to hold her hand.
“Do you want me to continue? I know this can’t be easy…” Henry interrupted, looking to where he felt Emma’s presence.
“We need to know what happens next.” Emma’s voice was determined even as she wiped a fresh tear from her cheek. Hearing her parent’s pain wasn’t easy. She then turned to Killian with a nod. “I’m alright.”
Henry turned to him when he didn’t say anything, but Killian couldn’t take his eyes off Emma’s, hoping he was able to give her some reassurance. Finally, he nodded.
“She is not dead.” The Blue Fairy watched from the end of the bed. She startled me. I had never known her to be able to appear wherever she wished. Regardless, it was reassurance. She wasn’t dead. “I was told that I needed to come to this room at this time, now I see why.” Cryptic.
With a wave of her hand over Emma’s body and a familiar spark of cold, blue magic, she seemed to have her answer. “She is asleep. A cursed sleep.” She said. The half-answers and enigmatic posture were maddening. And I said so. “She will remain asleep until someone breaks her curse.” I turned to look at Graham, but he hadn’t moved, he seemed unwilling to care about anything else but the sleeping Princess. He was dead, unable to be with her again.
“Oh, Graham…” Emma whispered.
I was determined to break the curse. Not only to spare her parents the heartache, but also because I needed her back. “You mustn’t wake her up now.” The Blue Fairy told us. I was angry, why should Emma be suffering when we can help her? “Rumplestilskin believes her dead, his plan has been stopped. Wake her now and we’d be doomed.”
“She knew Rumplestilskin’s plan?!” Killian’s fist was balled against the table as he attempted to hold back his anger.
She knew his plan, even though no one had told her! “The Sorcerer knows all, Alice Jones. He’s seen this and more and we are to follow his plan.” His plan to destroy a family? To take their daughter from her? “Yes. All is as it should be.” I cursed. I never cursed anyone before. But I did now. “I understand your frustration, but all is as it should be.” She repeated, with an infuriating calm.
The feeling of inadequacy was like a fireball in my chest. But as angry as I was, the Blue Fairy was right, Emma was safe while she was asleep. What was I to do next? “I will place a preservation spell on her body, you will urge her parents not to bury her for it will surely kill her.” Before I could say anything else, she was gone.
Bloody fairies.
Bloody fairies. As helpful as she was, the hardest part was my chore. I left Graham to his vigil. I only returned the next day, her parents having had some time to compose themselves. But still I saw the lack of light in the Queen’s eyes and the slumped shoulders in the Prince’s posture - for a stranger, they would look the image of collectedness but not for me.
It was easier than I thought to convince them not to bury Emma. I was never fond of lying but saying that the Blue Fairy had blessed Emma’s form to withstand the course of time was nothing more than a half-truth. In a matter of days, a glass coffin was produced to hold the Princess. It was placed in the family’s mausoleum and everyday for years, the royal couple would place fresh flowers, usually accompanied by the young Prince.
The story was kept quiet. Both to ensure the Kingdom’s trust in their leaders’ safety but also to prevent any conflict between the two Kingdom’s involved. King Rumplestilskin remained quiet, his plan had failed. The dark magic surrounding the Kingdom was unable to get in. Even with Emma gone, there was too much light to let in the darkness.
His failure drove him to madness, pushing the darkness as far as it could. Until, decades after, he was killed with a dagger through his heart. A culprit was never found and the Kingdom, as fragile as it was, accepted the new King without protest. King Baelfire would do great things. Both Kingdoms fell into peace once more.
Life had returned to normal after Emma’s presumed death. Even as the country mourned, they celebrated Prince Leopold’s milestones.
Despite mine and the family’s desire to keep working with them, they had no need for me, not with the Princess gone. But, a year or so later, I was married. This might not seem important to you, but I discovered something. I welcomed a son soon after. A son who would grow up, as children do and would talk to entities no one else could see but me. The Blue Fairy’s gift was passed down. I was able to witness a granddaughter with the same gift.
We kept it secret, as well we could. I attempted to share this story with my kin, but I see now my time is short so I’m hoping that writing it will preserve it in its most perfect state. I understand now that I am not the one supposed to save Emma. But I hope that one of my own blood will.
I saw her, long after Rumplestilskin was killed, after her parents passed away - one not far from the other -. She was as if no day had passed her by, still in the clothes she wore when she fell asleep. She did not recognise me, but she was the one who found me. She did not recognise me because she did not remember who she was. All she knew was her name.
Emma.
You, who reads this book, my kin, I hope your heart remains true. For that is the only way to save her. Please, save her.
“Wow…” Henry breathed.
“Indeed.” Killian sat on his desk feeling his shoulders tight.
“I’m sorry.” Emma spoke softly, catching his attention.
“What do you mean? Why are you apologizing?”
“This was never supposed to be your burden.” Emma looked at him, her eyes a mix of apology and determination. “The only one who’s supposed to save me is me.”
“This isn’t a burden, Emma. I’ve spent years helping people like you. Apparently, generations. This is my mission and I’m gladly doing it for you too.” His smile was reassuring and he hoped that he wasn’t showing too much.
She doesn’t seem to notice as she looks down with a hint of pink in her cheeks. “Thank you, Killian, for helping me.” Her smile when she looks back at him sets his heart hammering against his chest.
Henry’s attempt at being quiet is louder than he seems to want as it breaks their moment. His cheeks are red and he tries to hide his satisfied smile.
“There’s nothing else in the book?” Killian asks, clearing his throat, hoping to get the attention off their small moment. “There seems to be some writing on that side.”
“Oh!” Henry’s brow furrows as he stares at the strange writing. Emma, he sees, has moved back to standing next to the boy. “I can’t read it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s in a weird language, even weirder than what I just read.”
“Hmm, strange.”
The library door is opened once more, the sound catching their attention.
“Henry?” Principal Mills calls from the door as she looks around for her son.
“It’s time to go already?” Killian can hear the pout in the boy’s voice and knows it’s there when Emma shows that soft smile that, he learns, is reserved for Henry.
“Yes, I’m done with the meeting. Come on, you have homework to do.” There is a smile on the Principal’s face too, it seems involuntary when Henry is involved.
“Fine.” He huffs as he rushes to put his backpack on. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Jones.”
Killian nods with a grin. “Master Mills.”
“Mr. Jones.” Regina dismisses him with barely a look. As Henry reaches her, she places her arm around his shoulders and kisses his forehead.
“You may think she’s scary, but Henry knows how to soften her.” Emma quipped as the door shut behind the mother and child.
“The lad has abilities that we don’t know half of.” Killian winks.
After such a heavy afternoon, it seems odd to be in silence. There is much he wants to say but doesn’t know how to start or if he should. He shouldn’t.
“Would you like to watch a film tonight?” Killian asks quickly.
She seems to startle but relaxes almost as quickly. “In the box that has the people inside?”
“The people aren’t exactly ins- Nevermind,” He laughs. “Aye, in the box.”
“I would love to.”
The headiness her smile causes chases him out of the door. They keep silent. There is no need for anything to be said. Nothing needed to change the quiet, light mood between them.
Of course, their plans are meant to be ruined. A short blonde woman carrying a bright pendant stops in front of them, stopping their walk. She looks at him with curious eyes.
“Are you Killian Jones?” She asks, igniting his curiosity.
“I am, who is asking?”
“The Blue Fairy wishes to speak with you.”
#cssns#cssns22#captainswan#killian jones#emma swan#captain hook#henry mills#ghosts#cssns 2022#cs fic#cs fanfic#cs ff au#ouat ff#cs ff#carolina writes
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Canticum Sanguinis Lux - Ustilo
Summary: Once, all Emma Nolan wanted was a normal life, but when she had a run in with a vampire as a teenager she realised that she couldn’t escape the life of a hunter. Now all she wants to do is prove herself, and she’s going to end up going above and beyond to be the hunter the world needs her to be.
Rating: Explicit. Mostly for graphic descriptions of violence, and some smut, but not until later chapters.
Warnings: There are now more than just hints at the non con nature of the control vampires can have over humans. And the fact that they’re strong af
Notes: Ah bugger, I was not supposed to wait this long before posting the next chapter… At least the last one wasn’t a huge cliffhanger! Life got a bit in the way unfortunately, but I’m back, and we’re on a straight shot to the end. Hopefully without any more long delays!
Thanks to the @cssns mods for running this event, thank you to @clockadile for the gorgeous banner. Lastly, thank you to @kmomof4, who not only is an amazing beta, but volunteered to deal with my panics and the amount of hitting my head against a wall that this has made me do. Thank you so much, I could not have done this without you.
Tagging: @kmomof4 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandomfanatic @undercaffinatednightmare @anmylica @elfiola @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @myfearless-love @xhookswenchx @wefoundloveunderthelight @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @onceratheart18 @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @itsfabianadocarmo @ouatpost @ultraluckycatnd @thepirateandhisson @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @captainswan21 @spaceconveyor @pirateprincessofpizza @sparlecorn93 @hollyethecurious @ammelia @pawshapedheart
I’m rebooting my taglist at the end of this fic, so if you’d like to keep getting tagged, please DM me. Thanks
Full fic on AO3
- - - - -
Neither of them admitted it, but both Emma and Killian were reluctant to leave the quiet sanctuary of the safe house once the sun had set. Killian was mostly healed, a feat he knew was due to her blood and the magical qualities it must have possessed. He felt good, alive, and warm for the first time in centuries.
Emma found herself some more food before they set off, happily crunching on the cereal bar as she drank a cup of coffee. She even asked if he wanted a top off.
He declined with a smile and a shake of his head. He'd get some blood later.
But she seemed to withdraw into herself the closer they got to home. Killian glanced across at her as they kept to public places, public transport. Last night had affected her more than she wanted to admit to anyone, even herself.
But she didn’t have to admit it to him.
He’d seen her in all her glory, shining like the sun. His sun. And in the light of the streetlamps, she looked small and unsure of herself. It was a stark contrast to the confidence he’d seen holding her up as she wasted that vampire while he was tussling with another on the ground. Not to mention the way she’d walked away from Arthur without even looking back at him as he’d burned to ashes behind her.
But now the reality seemed to be setting in. She seemed to be realising how differently things could have gone. He reached for her hand and she glanced across at him before giving it a squeeze and then pulling hers away.
He couldn’t help the disappointment that settled in his chest. After everything they’d said and done on that sofa in the darkness of the safehouse, he’d hoped they’d crossed a bridge. But he supposed that she had to be more careful out here, that showing any kind of vulnerability where anyone could see them was a step she couldn’t take. Might never take.
Maybe this was something that would always hide in the dark. Maybe he was dreaming and she was never going to admit to anyone that he made her heart race like nothing else did.
Because he’d heard it.
- - - - -
Continues on AO3
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I have sea foam in my veins, I understand the language of waves...
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I am the ocean. I am the sea. There is a world inside of me.... Let the sea set you free...
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Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's sent away....
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For Captain Swan Supernatural Summer (@cssns )
@kmomof4 @snowbellewells @lifeinahole27 @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @alexa-fangirl-forever
#cssns 2022#cssns#cssns22#captain swan#emma x killian#killian jones#emma swan#killian x emma#captain killian jones#emma swan jones#cs mermaid au#mermaid!emma
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The Dark Elven Chapter 14 (final)
I can't believe this is the end of this, but it has been such a great and fun experience to be part of this year's CSSNS. The moldboard above couldn't have happened without the expert help from @motherkatereloyshipper She did the big manip picture of Killian and Emma's wedding day photo. I could NEVER have done this, so a million times thank you 🧡
I hope you all enjoyed reading this... I know this fandom will forever be a part of my writing life. The talent that is present in this fandom is amazing, and sometimes I feel as if my work is far below par with what talent is out there. But writing fanfiction is a huge part of who I am as a writer and it helps me improve my writing on so many levels. Thanks to the moderators behind CSSNS event, they've done an amazing job. Looking forward to seeing what happens next year.
#ouat fanfiction#ouat#fanfiction#once upon a time#captain swan#killian jones#emma swan#my writing#writers#writers on tumblr#cssns 2022#cssns22
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Get to Know Me 2022
Please welcome @piinfeathers to the CSSNS!
Tumblr Name
piinfeathers
How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?
I binged the show last summer and was immediately obsessed, this show has taken over my life.
When did you start shipping Captain Swan?
The second I saw Killian Jones, beaten and bloody on the side of the road literally 5 minutes after getting hit by a car, still taking the time to hit on a clearly annoyed Emma Swan I knew I was a goner. The finale of season 3 basically cemented them as my all timer ship.
What drew you to this event?
I’ve really been interested in collabing with another artist or writer for a while now. I think this show and this fandom in particular inspires some of the most unique and beautiful art and I really loved the idea of bouncing ideas off of other creators.
What inspired your topic?
Honestly? Colin’s pointy lil ears always make me think of elves and fae, and the fact that Emma is canonically a lost fairy tale princess, it just goes together so well.
If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.
I’m really interested in exploring a more traditional fairy tale illustration style for this. I studied a lot of fairy tale art and folk art in college, and lately I’ve been super inspired by Scandinavian artists like Kay Nielsen and John Bauer.
For our artists: What kind of art do you like to do? Picsets, painting, digital, etc? Feel free to give as much info as you like.
I do digital illustrations! I work in animation as a character designer so my style does tend to skew a little cartoony. I think it suits the show a little bit, what with it being a Disney drama.
What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?
I love the sense of community this fandom has, even this long after the show ended. I’m just excited to be part of it this year.
Steph will be dropping her original artwork on August 18th, and doing artwork for @mie779. Make sure to say hi on Tumblr and Discord.
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Sum’: He should have lived a long and free pirate life aboard his ship with his crew. But fate had it planned the other way. If Killian had known what was going to happen to him, he would have fought harder and tried to escape. Years later, the SCA, finally caught the famous mad scientist: Dr. Gold.
While Jones and his blond savior bounded quite quickly, they aren’t prepared to discover the real nature of Killian.
Also on AO3
Word : 12K
Artist Note:
Hey all, it’s been a while since I’ve drawn some OUAT art!
So I had a great time drawing some of my old favs as mermaids!
Thanks to @cocohook38 for the awesome fic she wrote (Here) It’s so wonderful that there are actually more art that might drop soon. But for now please fly over there and take a read of her masterpiece! It’s worth the read! Promise!
Enjoy!
#cssns 2022#cssns22#cs au#cs fanart#mermaid!cs#hybrid!kilian#killian jones#emma swan#my art#ouat art
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