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Grounding herself, Emma fists her hands until her fingers irritate the road burn coating her palms. Regina just got off the phone with Cruella DeVil and Ursula. Cruella and Ursula.
What the fuck?
Killian arrives and she immediately feels the cool touch of his hook rest on her slightly exposed hip. She’s not sure when this became second nature but she’s glad it has— the consistency grounding her further.
Storybrooke. Chernabog. Town line. Cruella. Ursula. Killian. Hook.
Captain Hook.
She’s dating Captain Hook while co-parenting with the Evil Queen who's trying to decide if she should give Cruella DeVil and Ursula a chance at redemption.
What. the. fuck.
She doesn’t have to deal with these looming realizations as often as she did when the curse broke (the first time), but every once in a while something throws her into a tailspin and she has a hard time finding her way out.
If it weren’t for Killian she’d bet her life savings that Storybrooke was all a delusion and she was sitting in a hospital somewhere compensating for years of home hopping and abandonment.
But then there’s Killian.
There’s been three moments in which Emma knew she wasn’t living a lie.
The first was when Henry came back to her after biting the poisoned turnover. The moment he hugged her… that moment was so visceral, she knew it had to be real.
The second was when Neal died, when she felt a wave of feeling wash over her too great to comprehend. More sobering than any event in her life before, it was a direct reminder nothing is permanent.
The third is every moment she’s spent with Killian since the moment she’s met him. Maybe that’s cheating, shoving hundreds of moments into one, but since she’s met Killian everything has changed.
She was standing in the middle of Cora’s attack, heartless corpses scattered at her feet and she felt another loop setting in, then there was Killian. And so their story goes. Every moment of what the fuck and you’ve got to be kidding me , Killian’s been there— whether on the right side or not is here nor there.
She grasps his hand tightly, drawing a small “x” with her thumb near his wrist and she notices him nod slightly before addressing their ragtag fairytale army, “Emma and I are going to head to Granny’s for some food and then we’ll meet Belle at the library to research our new winged friend.” Everyone nods enthusiastically and leaps into action, David delegating the rest of the group out as Killian squeezes Emma’s hand and leads her away from the chaos.
Once they’re out of ear shot, Killian speaks, “Are you alright, love?”
She loves him. It’s weird, the moment you realize something so profound, but she guesses the small moments are as good as any. “I will be. It’s just… a lot.”
“Aye, Swan. I’m sure it would be for anyone not of our land, but you’ve made great strides in making your own place in this world.” He pulls her in tighter and Emma breathes in his welcoming scent. She always envisioned pirates smelling awful , but Killian is probably the cleanest person she knows. Pirates. She takes a deep breath before diving too deep into that thought.
“Thanks.” She smiles up at him, and she can tell Killian knows how much she means it despite her lack of flowery sentiments he is so versed in. He kisses her temple and she welcomes the silence.
She could handle Elsa making her way into town. Emma was on a level playing field with everyone else, backstories practically nonexistent until Anna entered the picture, but with the arrival of Cruella and Ursula, something shifted in everyone.
There’s history there Emma isn’t a part of and no one is being very forward when it comes to clueing her in. Killian’s holding something back, but she assumes it’s out of shame and knows he’ll tell her on his own time– she didn’t fall in love with a man unscathed; dismal pasts are just part of the package. What’s killing her are her parents, both clearly hiding some dark past with these villains. It’s resurfacing all the anxiety she felt the day the first curse broke. Everyone was so elated, families reunited and memories restored, but Emma felt exactly the same– her relief Henry was going to be alright aside. Snow White hugged her daughter for the first time while Emma hugged her friend Mary Margaret for what felt like the hundredth time.
The playing field was anything but level.
The Enchanted Forest was only a further extension of that, Emma constantly on edge yet feeling 6 steps behind. When she got back to Storybrooke, she felt herself level out— at least she knew how to use the restroom here.
Emma hates to say it, but besides the fact Henry was kidnapped, Neverland was a welcome challenge. Killian warned them the island was greatly unknown even to those who reside there permanently. The playing field leveled itself out completely as everyone seemed just as clueless as she was.
Don’t even get her started on her magic.
Henry has had that book memorized since she met him, the stories practically his now despite him not being alive for the majority of them. He’s always on pace with the rest of the group, knowing references to past dalliances and squabbles without so much as turning a page. She’s glad he’s not feeling this level of anxiousness, but wishes beyond all belief that she could take some of that photographic fairytale memory for herself.
It’s the squeeze of Killian’s hand that brings her back to the present and allows her to walk up the steps to Granny’s without tripping and making an ass of herself. Killian places their order and leans in close to tell Ruby something privately. Before Emma can wonder what he’s said, Killian is leading her up the back steps towards his room and unlocking the door.
“I thought you could use some familiar territory to decompress, love.”
Emma loves him. It’s the only thing that’s convinced her this isn’t some dream that is only minutes from being over. It’s what keeps her fighting tooth and nail for some semblance of normal in her new life which is decidedly anything but. It’s what grounds her when there are literal flying demons from hell trying to take her into the sky.
It’s the only thing that’s made perfect sense.
“Thank you, Killian.” He smiles and begins to turn away, not picking up the true gravity of her appreciation. Emma grabs his wrist and he turns back towards her, worry etched into his brow.
“Are you sure you’re alright, love?” She should answer, but finds herself too busy searching his eyes for any hint that this is a dream.
Emma’s known she loves him for a while now, since the moment they returned from the past– the monumental nature of his trade for her family’s safety winning her heart completely. She doesn’t dare tell him that though– she fears the moment she does is the moment she wakes up back in Boston… alone. Emma hasn’t been alone since the moment Henry found her, and while there are moments she wishes for time to sort out her thoughts, she relishes every moment with her family. At this point, she’s sure she’d know how to be alone anymore and the thought of leaving this reality for the truth scares her everyday.
Killian’s the only one who seems to remind her this is as real as it gets.
His thumb brushes softly across her wrist where he’s slowly taken control. As though he could read her mind, Killian nods ever-so-slightly, a comforting smile breaking across his face. She squeezes his hand, purposely placing one of his rings in an uncomfortable position on her hand in a futile attempt to wake herself up before she jumps to the point of no return.
Emma finds his eyes again– somehow her anchor even though they’re as blue as the sea. She used to drown in them, the emotions she felt overtaking her as they acted as x-rays into her soul, but as time moved on all she found was comfort. Taking a deep breath, she decides she doesn’t want to live on this edge anymore. If this is all a hoax, she wants to know now before the pain of waking would be more excruciating than she already imagines it would be, but also before he tells her first, and the fear of the unknown stops her from returning the sentiment. Emma aches to tell him, so that she can finally know if the fairytale (literally) she’s been living is truly her life.
So she does.
“I love you.”
As Emma expected, he surges in for a kiss, his actions speaking louder than her three words -even long ago. He comes up for air, and for a moment, Emma refuses to open her eyes, sure the dream will have changed, or worse she’ll have woken up all together, but then that moment passes. Killian’s forehead is hot against hers as she feels the smiles lines grow across it. He breathes out and his breath graces her lips softly. In a seemingly impossible task, Killian closes what little distance remains between them. Emma moves in to kiss him once more, but he leans back slightly to stop her. It’s then, on instinct alone, that Emma finally opens her eyes. As she gazes into an endless expanse of blue, a weight lifts from her chest– a weight left long ago when she turned to find cops in that alleyway instead of Neal. She never realized how heavy it was, not until the moment it was gone– or if not gone, shared.
“I love you too, Swan.”
He brings her back to the here and now in an instant and she’s home.
His voice– light and full of the kind of happiness she truly thought was reserved for the best of dreams– buries itself deep into her mind, creating a sort of tattoo on the memories that lived there. Sure, she’d been told I love you many times, by many people, but the words that leave Killian’s mouth feel permanent.
They feel real.
She rushes forward to kiss him, once again. The electricity radiating through her body, the feel of his hands laced along her lower back, and the smile forming against her lips finally convince her that, while her life may be part fairytale, it’s undoubtedly as real as any of the others in Henry’s ancient book.