Work Text:
How can you see into my eyes
Like open doors?
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb
Without a soul
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there
And lead it back home
She fell into Killian’s arms after David pulled her through the hole in the ice cave wall. No thought, no hesitation, just let herself go knowing he would catch her. Emma wasn’t sure if it’s a testament to how much she had come to trust him or how very shaken she was by the whole experience. No, that was a lie. Because no matter how very shaken she was, she would have crawled on her hands and knees over broken glass in the past rather than show that kind of weakness.
Instead, she clung to him, her numb hands sliding over the subtle texture of his coat until one drags up into his hair. She can just barely make out the texture of it, soft as kitten fur and thick as her fingers cling to it. She could hear his heart hammering in his chest as he murmured comfort softly into her hair, could feel the fear and the anguish and the utter relief rolling off of him in waves.
And when she tried to take a step and her legs gave out, he never let go, just moved to take her and lift her, cradling her close and carrying her to the car. And what Emma felt, more than anything else in that moment, was safe and home.
****
Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life
Frozen inside without your touch
Without your love, darling
Only you, all the life among the dead
When they got back to the loft, it was like he couldn’t stop touching her. She was draped in more blankets than she knew Mary Margaret owned (and she lives here), and Killian was curled around her, one hand stroking her hair, his arm with the brace under her fingers. She knew from experience that he was warm, had felt it pressed into him in Neverland, and again with his past self on the Jolly Roger. Now, though, she took all the heat he could give her and gladly, all of the soft touches and caresses, the murmured words and gentle smiles. Because when she had lain on that ice floor and felt her energy flagging, felt the edges of darkness closing in around her, it was all she wanted. This, here, with him and her family. She had wanted to go home.
His fingers wove into hers when she reached for him, after he brought over the space heater to try to speed the thawing process. His hands were large, but moved in a graceful way that made her think he’d have been a born pianist in this world, or perhaps a guitarist. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined a life where that could happen, where Killian could learn to play an instrument if he wanted, and Henry wasn’t threatened and her parents didn’t have to worry about ruling their people. Then she opened them to find herself leaning against his shoulder, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her arm. Maybe this life wasn’t all that bad, after all. After all, this was home.