Chapter Text
Killian felt the blade slice agony through him, stealing his breath.
After taking hundreds and hundreds of lives this way, he was finally experiencing it.
He couldn't breathe.
Suddenly, the blade was ripped from him, tearing a cry from his lips.
Hot, liquid, molten pain was coursing through him.
Arms suddenly held him gently, but he could barely feel the touch past the pain ripping through him like a wildfire.
Still, he knew those arms.
That embrace.
Emma.
Futily, Killian fought the growing weakness, as pain alighted each nerve ending, killing them one by one.
Somehow he could still see her face in front of him.
Her beautiful face.
There was color in her skin now.
Color he hasn't seen in six weeks.
Life he hasn't seen in six weeks.
She was back.
His Emma.
She was Emma again.
He lifted his hand, wanting to touch her. One last time.
He couldn't feel his fingers.
But still, he reached for her face.
Tears.
She was crying.
He wanted to wipe away the tears, the pain.
She's been through too much pain.
The agony spread faster, a wave of heavy weakness taking him whole, stopping his hand before he could reach her face.
His legs gave out.
He felt her arms catch him.
He couldn't feel anything.
He tried to find her eyes.
His felt so heavy.
He fought for the strength to keep them open.
For once in his bloody life he needed to be strong.
He found them; her eyes.
He hadn't seen those eyes in six weeks.
They were so different from the eyes he saw when he'd first met her, when he'd first really looked at her, there on that beanstalk.
They'd been so clouded. So guarded.
So afraid.
These eyes were open and free; windows to the fiercest storm of emotion.
The weakness pulled at him.
The heaviness settled coldly through his veins.
She was saved.
She was Emma, even if she could no longer be his.
He gazed into those eyes, even as his lost their fight to stay open.
He tried to hold on.
Just to-
-keep looking-
-into those-
-eyes-
"Welcome."
Killian jerked, startled, eyes flying open.
He blinked at a stone wall.
The darkness, the forest was gone. Emma's arms around him were gone. The stormy sea of her eyes… gone.
The pain was gone.
Physically.
Killian blinked, feeling the ghost of a rapid heartbeat in his empty chest. No longer numb, he lifted a shaking hand to his torso, expecting to feel the wetness of his own blood, but his fingers just encountered the material of his vest.
The clearing of a throat made Killian flinch again. He whipped around to see a man standing just outside this stone room he was in. A stone room with heavy metal bars, cemented into the ceiling and floor. With a cold certainty, Killian knew what this was.
It was a cell.
He may not have expected white clouds and angels singing, not with the sins in his life. But…
He didn't expect this.
Killian stood, focused his gaze back on the man before him. "Where the bloody hell am I?"
The man smiled, a smile that was very out of place with his surroundings. A smile that looked friendly enough, but sent icy shivers down Killian's spine. "I like your choice of words, there. Your answer's in the question, Mr. Jones."
Simply the way the man spoke unsettled him.
"You know me, but I don't know you," said Killian cautiously. "Who are you?"
"I do, Killian." the man said, his smile gaining just a touch of cynicism. "Or, shall I say, Captain Hook." Killian swallowed. "My name is Hades. Perhaps you've heard of me."
Killian tensed. "So I am dead, then," he muttered, though he hadn't exactly thought otherwise.
Killian's words made Hades smile brighter. "Oh, yes. Very. I enjoyed the show; such a shame to be killed by the one you love."
Killian's body tensed so tightly something was bound to break. "I told her to," he snapped.
"And she did it," said Hades, nodding, making something cold settle in Killian's gut. "Murder. Now that's love." Hades cocked his head as a vein threatened to burst in Killian's neck. "How fitting, really. Your first love dies in your arms," Killian's jaw clenched so tight it was sure to shatter, "and you die in the arms of your second. It's almost poetic."
Killian glared at him. "Are you just here to torment me or can I find a pit of fire to spend eternity in instead?"
Hades' brows shifted slightly in satisfaction, like he was happy to have struck a nerve. "There is plenty of fire, we are never in short supply. But as a matter of fact, I am here to torment you!" There was that bright smile again, the one that made Killian's skin crawl. "See," said Hades, taking a step forward, seamlessly phasing his body through the cell bars, and making Killian want to take a step back. Killian held his ground, however, staring into the eyes of the God of the Underworld, as his narrowed at Killian. "I have a very delicate job here, Hook. Very delicate." He mock-pouted. "And when people," he took another step, and Killian forced himself not to flinch, "try to ruin it," another step, their faces inches away, "that makes my job harder." He stopped in front of Killian, the smile completely erased. "You've made my job harder, Hook, and I don't like to work more than I already have to. You very nearly disrupted everything I've kept running smoothly for centuries, and that upsets me."
Killian stood frozen, unable to move.
Afraid to move.
"You," said Hades, "are here in the Underworld—my world—because you have Unfinished Business. You have plenty of blood on your hands, Captain." He mock-winced, nodding to Killian's hook. "Or, hand, I should say." Killian felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. "And yet," Hades went on, "your spilt blood is not why you're here." That smile of his grew back, like black ink spreading through water. "Your Unfinished Business is with me, Hook. And I intend to make you pay."
"All out of doubloons, mate," said Killian dryly, shoving down the chills that had raced up his spine. But a thought hit Killian, and it made him smile. Smugly, since he really has nothing left to lose, he cocked his head, saying, "Alas, if it's my life you want, a little late for that."
Hades' smile was once again gone, replaced with a blank expression that was more terrifying than any glare. "You might be dead, Captain," he said quietly, "but that works in my favor."
Killian's own smile faltered.
"That means I can do whatever I like to you," said Hades, "and I don't have to worry about your death putting a limit on your punishment." That smile of his was back, as if it slid off Killian's face and right onto his. "When people say there's a special place in Hell waiting for you," Hades went on, "this...is yours."
The fist that caught him around the jaw came so fast and so hard, Killian didn't even have time to blink.
He was sent crashing into the wall behind him, pain exploding, ripping a surprised cry from his throat. The sheer strength was inhuman. Though, maybe he should have expected that.
Just as he began to recover, another fist caught him in the ribs, and Killian felt something snap. He cried out again, doubling over.
Angry now, Killian's eyes narrowed to slits and he growled, attempting to fight back with his hook, but a hand caught him around the throat, throwing him back up against the wall.
His airway cut off, Killian desperately struggled, attempting to dig his hook into Hades' hand, but it seemed to have absolutely no effect on the God. Instead, as Killian gasped, vision blackening, Hades leaned in and whispered close to his ear. "This is going to be fun."
He let go just like that, letting Killian collapse to the ground, heaving in air, his hand rushing to what had to be a broken neck.
Killian's eyes darted to Hades, bracing himself for another attack, but Hades was suddenly once again outside of the cell bars. Killian breathed hard, riding waves of pain.
"Welcome to Hell, Captain Hook," said Hades with that twisted smile before disappearing in flames, Killian's consciousness disappearing along with them.
Chapter Text
It had to be hours before Killian moved.
Time had no meaning in here; there was no change in the light, nothing so much as moved other than a few shadows dancing across the wall outside the bars of his cell, mirrors of the flames licking from torches.
The pain from Hades' onslaught had died down, making Killian finally capable of sitting up.
He had to bite back a groan, clenching his teeth as he pulled himself upright, breathing hard once his back was against the wall.
The God hit him twice.
And yet it felt like being hit by one of Storybrooke's driving vessels. And Killian knew how that felt all too well.
"Hey, beautiful."
"Looks like you broke some ribs."
Killian's eyes snapped open.
Something suddenly hurt far worse than the physical injuries.
"Wait… if you're afraid of losing it, that means you already have your happy ending. What is it?"
"Don't you know? It's you."
Killian screwed his eyes shut, feeling them burn.
How could it have gone so wrong?
How could it have gone from having someone he loved more than he had loved Milah, if by the slightest bit, to sitting here, in a cell in the Underworld, dead?
"I don't understand why you're pushing me away—"
"Because everyone I've ever been with is dead! I can't lose you too."
"You don't have to worry about me. If there's anything I'm good at, it's surviving."
A dry sob caught in his throat.
The image of Emma's face as he died, the pain-pure, raw, pain-in her eyes, the same pain that stared at him in every mirror after Milah died in his arms-gods-the thought of Emma living with that pain… After he promised her she'd never lose him.
She'll get through it, a voice in the very back of his mind, the darkest of recesses, told him. But that voice shook. Killian knew what it was like to lose love. To think that Emma had lost Baelfire, and now him…
Perhaps it wasn't true love. Perhaps he was just a love to open her heart, to hack away some of her armor, to ready her for another love. Someone else to make her happy. More happy. Perhaps… his passing was what she needed to find happiness beyond what he could give her.
The tears burning in his eyes and slipping down his cheeks weren't as confident.
And suddenly Killian was cursing himself, cursing his bloody self for being just another crack in her shattered heart. And for his own, for letting himself fall back in love, after his father left, after Liam, after Milah…
And now Emma...
He's never felt so much like the heartbroken child he used to be.
A thousand scenarios rushed through his mind. A thousand ways it could have all been avoided. How he could have-should have-found some way to destroy the Crocodile once and for all, ending the Darkness before it had ever reached him or Emma.
But after having lost Milah, playing the what if I had just... game, going over every moment of that fateful day…
It didn't change anything.
She was still dead.
No amount of regret had changed that.
And none would change the fact that he was.
Killian opened his eyes, pressing his shaking hand to his abdomen in an attempt to quell the pain.
He had eternity to torture himself over Emma.
He at least didn't have to spend it at Hades' mercy. Or lack thereof.
Standing proved slightly easier than sitting up. His hand to his ribs, Killian used the wall at his back, clawing at it with his hook to help him to his feet. He quickly approached the cell bars. He'd been in his fair share of brigs, all right, and not every captor knew how to prevent a prison break.
Except, after inspecting nearly every inch of the cell, this was no ordinary prison. Every part of the cell was concrete except the bars themselves. No lock was evident, no door even. Bloody magic, Killian found himself thinking, reaching his hand to grab a bar of the cell, intending to yank regardless of how fruitless it probably was.
What he hadn't been expecting was for the bar to be scorching hot.
He let out a yelp, snatching back his hand at once, stumbling back as he clutched his hand to his chest. He hit the back wall of the cell, tears springing to his eyes once again, this time from what felt like his hand burning from the inside out. Carefully, he looked at his hand, seeing his palm with a scorch mark, red and swollen. Killian shut his eyes, breathing harshly through the pain, sinking down the wall to the ground, holding his hand-his bloody only hand-to his chest.
He shut his eyes, defeat rolling over him like a tidal wave taking a ship down in the sea, drowning hope beneath inky black waters.
Chapter Text
A sharp kick to his ribs woke him.
A cry rose in Killian's chest, getting lodged somewhere in his throat as his eyes flew open. He had no idea how much time had passed. He was lying on his side, his back to the wall of his cell. At some point he remembered closing his eyes, and he must have succumbed to unconsciousness. And still, there was no way to tell how much time had passed. Killian was beginning to hate how disorienting that was.
Another kick struck his injured ribs and Killian curled in a little, clenching his teeth to bite back a groan, both arms moving in an attempt to protect the bruised or broken ribs. He glared up to find two men standing before him.
Killian paused, eyeing them. Both wore expressions between boredom and distaste.
And just behind them, Killian saw it.
The cell bars were gone.
As he felt the phantom of his heart pick up in speed at the possibility of getting out of here, another sharp kick, this time to his shoulder knocked him back into the wall, making him growl.
"Get up." said the man, eyes narrowed at Killian. "Lord Hades would like to have a word."
Lord Hades.
These men must be his bloody servants.
And by the way he emphasized word, Killian had a feeling there would be very few words involved.
Killian's eyes flicked to the lack of the cell bars.
Then back to the men.
He's taken down far more imposing men in his life.
When the man reared for another kick, Killian flinched back a little, holding up his good hand, the skin pulling painfully where it had been burned, and he hissed.
"Oi, all right," he said before the man could strike him. Killian stood carefully, mindful of his injuries, but took the time to gage the men.
The man who spoke looked like some sort of street thug. The way he held himself suggested he relied on his physical strength over any kind of strategy. The other man was quiet, smaller than the first man, looking like he'd never seen any sort of riches in his life, and nothing about him promised a good fighter.
Killian inwardly smiled a grin that Hook wore nearly all the time.
When he took his time standing, the first man let out an annoyed huff, and grabbed his arm, forcing him upright, and Killian let himself grunt, stumbling forward more than he needed to. If these men thought he was more injured than he was, he'd have an element of surprise.
The second man grabbed his other arm, and they began roughly leading him out of the cell. Killain tripped down the last step on purpose, letting his weight fall, and the men had to shift to catch him.
Killian's eyes flashed.
Using the distraction, Killian lashed out with his left elbow, easily moving it in the smaller man's slack grip, connecting with his nose. The man howled, falling back into the wall behind him.
Killian swiped his hook through the air, but the thug wasn't as easily overpowered. The man caught Killian by his left forearm, stopping it before his hook dealt any damage. But Killian only let that smile out and kicked him in the chest, snapping a rib in the man's torso. The man fell back, and Killain doubled over with a groan, the action tearing at his own ribs. He stumbled a little into the wall, catching himself.
The second man was whimpering on the ground, and Killian had been perfectly on point: the man seemed to not have been a fighter at any stage of his life or afterlife. Hades must have the slimmest of pickings for guards.
The thug growled and shot off the ground, but not before Killian's boot caught him in the temple.
The man went down and stayed down.
Killian breathed hard, lifting his head to the newfound escape opportunity.
The ghost of his heart pounded.
Without wasting time, Killian ran to his right, hoping against hope that he chose the right direction to get out of here; he didn't exactly want to think about what would happen if Hades caught him.
He ran along the stone floor, coming to another stone tunnel, and he hesitated for a moment, breath caught in his chest, looking down both dark directions, feeling his instinct take him to the right.
Torches dimly lit the pathway, empty and silent except for his boots on the stone floor.
The tunnel seemed to go on forever, and he ran until his chest burned and breath scraped against his throat.
But, suddenly…
He saw it.
The darkness was lifting.
Every step seemed to ease the darkness, make the air a little easier to breathe.
It wasn't until he grew closer that he recognized the light.
Daylight.
He was underground, then.
And he's just found the way out.
He felt himself smile, even as broken, exhausted breaths still escaped him, tiredness bleeding through his entire being.
Killian pushed himself to run faster.
The daylight was strong now, and Killian spotted a cave wall ahead of him, making him stutter in his step a little. The daylight shone down brightly, illuminating the dead end easily.
Killian slowed to a stop, doubling over to catch his breath, squinting up to see sky.
It wasn't the kind of sky he'd ever seen before; there was a red-tinted hue to it, and there wasn't a cloud, star, sun or moon anywhere in sight. It briefly reminded him that even if he got out of Hades' dungeon, that didn't mean he was back home.
But he could grieve that after he was free.
Killian walked quickly to the wall, head still canted back at the opening, a few dozen feet above him. He pressed a hand to the wall, which was smooth as marble. He felt his chest clench; how the bloody hell was he supposed to climb out? It seemed as though this was a one-way entrance; only a way inside.
Killian spun in a half circle, stopping when he saw it.
A rope.
It was bloodstained and ratty, and it hung down from the top. Perhaps one of Hades' other prisoners escaped, he mused as he ran to it. That would explain the bloodstains.
Grabbing the rope, Killian tried to ignore how the burn on his palm stung badly. He gave an experimental tug; it was tight and strong. It would carry his weight.
He flicked his eyes to the top.
Then, down to his hand.
His one hand.
The hope that had surged in his chest at the sight of it waned an instant later.
Killian shut his eyes, damning the hook for perhaps the millionth time of his life, but no more so than now.
There were many, many things he'd been able to manage (however challengingly) doing one-handed, but there were just some things that were impossible, and climbing a rope was one of them.
But damn it if he wasn't going to try.
Throwing another panicked look behind him, seeing the coast still clear, Killian tightened his grip on the rope, pressing a booted foot to the wall, lifting himself off the ground. With his hook, he struck the wall—the stark memory of saving Emma from the blasted ice wall rose sharply, the first time she grabbed hold of him, showed her affection for him, and now she would never hold him again—his breath was stolen at the thought, but he shook himself, attempting to dig it in enough to use it as a handhold, but his strike didn't even dent the surface. This wall was just as hard as Elsa's had been. Jarring pain reverberated through his whole left side at the impact, making him clench his jaw.
He grasped the rope that hung beneath him between his knees, reaching his hand up higher to grab the rope a few inches higher. He attempted to use his legs to propel himself upward, forgetting about the broken ribs. The muscles tightened, making the bones grind together in a way that felt like the hot slice of a blade. He groaned through his teeth, hand slipping down, the rope cutting into the wound burned into his palm from the cell bar.
Killian growled, trying again to use his knees and simply ignore the pain erupting in his midsection, but it was impossible. It burned and burned and burned, and he reflexively doubled over himself, his hand losing grip and he fell back to the ground. He couldn't hold in the groan as he mistreated every injury.
"Leaving so soon?"
The voice startled Killian badly.
Bloody—
He jerked around.
Hades was standing behind him, an amused look on his face.
Killian fought the urge to flinch at the sight of him, and instead forced himself to his feet. He kept his jaw screwed shut, trying his damndest to keep his pain silent, and ignore the shot of fear racing down his spine.
Hades looked from the rope to Killian, wicked smile growing. "Oh," he said with faux concern. "The… one-handed thing makes that a little hard… doesn't it? Shame."
On his feet, Killian glared at the God, but said nothing. Just tried to fight the ever-present feeling of loss because he had been so damn close.
Hades raised a dangerous brow. "You," he said in a voice that sent a chill across Killian's skin, "just tried to leave without paying. I don't take kindly to people trying to skip out on their bill, Captain."
Killian tensed.
But as quickly as the God's tone gained the edge, it lost it, and he was grinning at him again. "Also, if it makes you feel any better," he said, waving his hand, and suddenly he and Killian were no longer in the cave; Killian had been unsteady his feet, and stumbled back to the new ground. "That," Hades went on, "did not lead out of my chambers."
Killian coughed, hating the way magic felt, and blinked tentatively at the new surroundings. He was in a huge, dark, eerie cave. Floor, ceiling and walls were made of dirt-wall and stone. No natural light filtered in anywhere; only an ominous glow from the torches that hung on the walls and several rivers that flowed on each side of the platform, each a different color. There was one entrance to this… this room, leading into a darkened tunnel.
A throne sat on one edge of the area, and what looked like the furniture of an office surrounded nearly the full circumference of the platform. Darkness hung above, like a never-ending night. The streams of water around them had whispers hanging over the surface, like some sort of hissing, and there was something… live, something supernatural lurking in the waves. Killian was starkly reminded of the tales of Davy Jones from his young days on the water. He jerked his gaze away.
It was haunting, it was ominous.
And he was beginning to feel bloody terrified.
Killian stumbled to his feet as he pieced it together. "All of it… it was a bloody trick?" Hades had wanted Killian to try to escape. The whole damn thing was some sort of an illusion for his entertainment. And he specifically used Killian's lack of a hand to his own amusement.
Killian felt familiar resentment and hatred rise within him.
"It was a test, Captain," said Hades from his throne, regarding Killian with an unsettling stare. "You have something that I desperately need to take from you." He leaned forward, and Killian swallowed hard. "It's hope." His eyes narrowed. "Hope is strictly forbidden here. You thought you could escape me. I don't appreciate that." He stood then, advancing toward Killian. "And to think, I already had plenty of reasons to punish you. Glutton for it, aren't you?"
Having literally nothing to lose, Killian ran forward with a yell, slashing at the God with his hook, but only struck air. He stumbled to a stop, wildly scanning the room; Hades had disappeared.
"What did I just tell you about hope, Captain?"
The voice was directly in his ear.
Killian shuddered, attempting to whip around, but suddenly felt himself immobilized, the familiar buzz of magic trailing over his skin.
Killian never thought he could hate someone as much as the Crocodile.
Hades walked in front of him. Killian struggled. "You thought you could hurt me," said Hades, in a sarcastically hurt voice. "You hoped you could hurt me," he amended. "You can't. No one can." He laughed, like the idea genuinely amused him. "But you'll learn that in time. I'll give you some fair warning, however." He vanished again, and his voice whispered once again over Killian's shoulder, making him flinch. "Defying me makes me angry. You do not want to make me angry. And, unless you forgot," he hissed, "I am already angry with you."
Killian fought the magic.
It did nothing.
"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" said Hades, circling him again, slowly, sizing him up in a way that made Killian's skin crawl. "No matter. I have all the time in, well, eternity. I will remove that hope from you." He continued that slow circle, even as Killian struggled in the grip of the magic. "Now," Hades said, his voice as dark as the blackness around, "you need to be punished, Captain."
Near-panic rose in Killian's chest, and he tried to shove it back down. He would not be afraid of this demon. He would not.
"Hmm," the God drawled, "Where to start?"
Killian fought.
"Let's see. I could…" Hades leaned over Killian's shoulder, whispering, "take the other hand," making Killian tense with fear that shot through his whole system. Hades chuckled. "Just the threat seems to be enough. Perhaps I'll let you keep it… For now."
If he still had a heart, it would have been pounding in his head.
Hades stopped in front of Killian. Killian glared at him, pouring every ounce of hatred into the gaze as he could. "Well, you seem to think you can run away. I can't have that." Without warning, Hades lashed out, slamming the heel of his foot into Killian's left knee. Killian cried out, the grip of the magic released him, and he fell to the ground, his knee exploding in pain. He writhed, right hand scrabbling toward the destroyed joint, harsh breaths escaping his teeth, tears burning his eyes.
"That oughta do it."
"Bloody—" gasped Killian, a cry escaping him when Hades stomped his foot over Killian's left ankle. Bones snapped, fire exploded. "—HELL!" His voice cut into a strangled yell that he tried to stop. The bastard didn't need the satisfaction.
But bloody damn hell it hurt.
He breathed hard, the entire limb feeling like it caught fire. Nerves frayed, bones grated like knives against each other, no position alleviated it—Killian shut his eyes, broken sounds escaping clenched teeth.
"Still feel like running, Captain?"
Killian's eyes, half-glazed over in agony, narrowed weakly at the God, loathing radiating from him.
"I…" Killian's voice caught in something strangled as pain thundered throughout his leg, and he fought the urge to curl in on himself. He breathed hard, his breaths mixing with a cry he desperately tried to swallow. His words disjointed, he said, "I've… lost… every—thing," he huffed out, voice catching on the last word as agony spiked. Pain-glazed eyes narrowed at Hades, a wicked smile flicking at Killian's lips. "You… really think… you… sc-scare me?" He laughed, something more hysterical than humorous, even when it set his ribs on fire.
Hades no longer looked amused. "We'll see about that."
Something dark spotted Killian's vision, and as the world blurred, he heard Hades order something to someone out of sight.
"We'll pick this up soon." said Hades somewhere beyond the haze of agony. "Stay off that leg, now!"
Not a moment later, Killian was lifted.
Pain erupted.
And he knew no more.
Chapter Text
The next time they came for him, he didn't fight them.
He'd woken at some point, finding himself back in the cell, bars back in place. He'd been lying on his side, the pain in his leg a steady, radiating agony. It wasn't quite as horrible as it had been when Hades broke it, now that he's allowed it to stiffen.
Moving it, however, he knew would be awful.
Trying not to focus on the pain, and holding onto hope out of bloody spite, Killian had searched for something to think about—anything.
Emma's face came to mind.
The feel of her hand in his.
The scent of her hair, something out of a meadow.
Her smile. The bright one he only rarely ever got from her. The one he normally only saw her wear when she thought no one was paying attention to her.
If a choked sound escaped his throat, he blamed the pain.
He hoped against hope itself she was wearing it now. Somehow, he hoped she was happy. He hoped she was all right.
Killian didn't move until the two guards—different ones than last time—came for him.
He let them take him.
He tried to focus on thoughts of Emma to keep the fear and pain at bay as they reached for him. And he again found himself wondering how long it's been, how long he's been dead. How long has Emma gone without him? Minutes? Weeks? Years? Who knew how time moved in this place. His time in Neverland felt nothing like two hundred years; this could be anything.
Killian gritted his teeth, groans slipping out as they manhandled him. Both men grabbed one of his arms, dragging him out of the cell, making sharp, horrible pain spike up his ankle all the way to his thigh. A cry escaped him, and he tried walking with his good leg to alleviate the broken one, but the men hardly slowed enough to let him get any sort of footing.
He was half-dragged to the right again, making Killian groan.
If he'd just gone left yesterday—was it yesterday?—perhaps he would have found a way out of here. It felt unlikely, but the next time he had a chance to escape, he at least knew one thing.
Right led to a dead end.
Despite the agony, Killian felt himself slip a shaky grin along his lips.
He might not be able to fight Hades off physically, might not be able to keep his bones from breaking, but he had one way to fight the God that was entirely within his control.
Killian was going to escape.
Somehow.
No matter what, at the very least, he was going to damn well hope he did.
And bask in the very small amount of satisfaction it would give him to frustrate the hell out of the God of Hell himself.
Though… perhaps he shouldn't be fighting this punishment so much—he'd done plenty in his life to warrant it. But hadn't he done that only after he'd lived through so much punishment to begin with? Not that it condoned hurting and killing what he'd known were innocent lives.
But he'd learned better. He'd changed. After over two hundred years of being bloodthirsty Hook, he found his way back to Killian.
And then he went right back the moment Emma saved his life.
He wanted to scream.
But he'd died heroically. He'd sacrificed himself to save them. Didn't that matter at all?
A very small voice inside—one that sounded startlingly like Emma—said that it did.
But the guilt, the remorse, the regret inside spoke louder, playing every scene, every wrong choice in his damn life and maybe he did deserve this after all.
But if anything, Hades' torture was nothing compared to the pain of what Killian has truly lost.
He had to die knowing that Emma was now alone. He had to die knowing that he'd found what was as close to True Love as he knew he'd ever get, to die without ever having the chance to live a true life with her. A life without running from monsters and curses.
Had his life just been destined to misery from its very start?
As he was dragged, his broken leg snagged on the ground.
He saw white for a few precious seconds, a cry lodged in his throat.
But whether he deserved the punishment or not, Killian—the most fearsome pirate in all the lands—couldn't help but admit that Hades absolutely terrified him, and he was truly afraid of how far the God would go.
He had to find some way out of here.
But dammit was hope a firelight that was getting weaker and weaker and weaker.
From what of the journey Killian had kept his eyes open for, he realized that he'd taken a straight route to Hades' throne room. The dead end that he'd met yesterday had been some sort of an illusion, and the long, dark tunnel led straight to the nightmarish place.
He was roughly let go when he reached the center of the platform, and Killian barely caught his balance, keeping his weight off his left leg. He was pathetically hunched over, but he was standing, despite how hard he was breathing and how much effort it took. He wasn't giving the God any more satisfaction.
Hades was seated on his throne. He closed a book in his lap, as if he were just finished with leisurely reading.
He gave Killian a grin. "How's the leg?" he asked.
"Still works," replied Killian, forcing himself to smirk, though the expression was taking nearly all the energy he had to offer.
"I'm sure I could fetch a peg to replace it with," said Hades, voice dripping with sarcastic kindness, "and really complete that whole pirate thing you've got going on."
Killian's smirk shifted into a glare.
Hades stood.
Killian forced himself not to flinch.
"Why don't I get you a seat, Captain? You look like you could use one."
Killian was suddenly grabbed from behind, familiar grips of the two guards who'd brought him here, and he was pulled backward, slammed into a chair that Hades had conjured.
Killian groaned, eyes screwing shut as his knee and ankle were mishandled, and it took all he had to keep the scream to a groan.
He jerked against the grips on his arms, but these guards were far stronger than the ones Hades had sent yesterday, making Killian realize even more that the whole thing had been a trap.
Manacles were snapped around his wrists, tight enough that he couldn't slip his hook through. Killian jerked anyway, glaring angrily at Hades, who was still smiling.
The guards walked away somewhere behind Killian. Hades took a few steps closer to Killian. "Comfortable?"
Killian grinned with his own dark sarcasm. "Feel the need to tie me down, do you?" His brow lifted in his own satisfaction. "Afraid to fight me fair?"
Hades' smile dropped from his face.
Killian grinned deeper.
Hades stopped in front of him. Killian forced himself not to react. "I don't fight fair." said Hades simply. "You should know something about that, pirate."
Something told Killian that very few people have stood up to this God. Have kept a fight in them.
And it angered him.
Good.
"And if we're talking about fair," Hades went on, "you've cheated death, cheated me, really, many times over." His brows shifted dangerously. "I don't even tolerate it once." He took another step closer. Killian fought the urge to flinch back. "So," said Hades, "how about I make you pay for every year you didn't deserve?" He grinned sickly. "Starting with this one."
The fist that hit him across the face exploded light in his vision.
His head was thrown to the side, pain wracking his skull. A cry tore from his lips before he shut his mouth, strangling it to a groan.
"How old are you again, Captain?"
The next fist caught him over his left eye.
He didn't bother trying to stop the cry.
The third hit him in the same place.
The fourth as well.
Something wet and hot was trailing down his cheek.
The fifth sunk into his midsection.
The hits came faster, his cries more wounded, his breathing broken and hitched. He barely had time to breathe between strikes, his chest burning from lack of air, screaming out whatever he had. He tore at the restraints, the metal not budging in the slightest.
No part of him was left without pain.
Darkness ebbed at the edge of his vision.
"Look at me, Captain."
The voice sounded like it was miles away.
A slap to his face made something broken escape his throat.
"I said, look at me."
Killian slowly lifted his head, the movement a feat in of itself. His vision was jarred and blurred. Blood trickled down his cheek from his hairline. He barely felt it; the whole left side of his face felt numb with pain.
"Still hopeful?" asked Hades, brows kneaded in what some might call a genuine expression. If not for the blood on the knuckles of both of his hands.
"Ch-ch-ch-" Killian gasped, words hard to force past throbbing everything. "Chea'd you…" He drew in a painful breath, "tw-two hun'ed years," he let himself smile, blood trickling from the split in his lip down his chin. "C'n do it… 'gain."
Hades did not look amused.
"That was the wrong answer."
Another punch struck the left side of his face.
Killian didn't stop the cry.
He's long since stopped trying to stop them.
His vision flickered.
"Well," said Hades, "I think we did well for today! We'll tackle the rest next time. Got about a hundred more years to go."
Killian barely heard the words, his vision flickering once more into darkness.
Chapter Text
Killian blinked, long and slow with his good eye, his other too swollen to see. His only silver lining was that Hades hadn't managed to break his jaw, or his entire face, for that matter. It still hurt as if he had, his head pounding, vision swimming, and he felt something warm and wet slipping down from more than one laceration on his head, over his cheek, behind his ear, down his neck.
He was so tired.
So, damn, tired.
The pain was constant, now. Time still had no meaning, so he still had no idea how long it's been. But Killian couldn't remember the last time he didn't feel physical pain. Not one rib remained intact, and breathing hurt like hell. And now Killian finally knew the true meaning of the figure of speech; for he's finally felt hell.
Hades made good on his promise to punish him for his years in Neverland.
At some point, he graduated to a lash.
Killian didn't remember much of it. After the first beating, his head felt jumbled and hazy. One moment he's in his cell, the next he's back in Hades' nightmare. He'd woken to chains around his wrists, suspending him in the center of Hades' throne room. The man himself was seated, watching as his minions took the lash to his back. Over. And over. And over. Sometimes the bastard would get up and play a solitary game of billiards while Killian was met with the lash again, and again, and again.
Killian no longer bothered to keep his silence in the pain.
Killian only had the use of one eye, his left so swollen he couldn't see more than a blur through a crack. Not that it had mattered; pain was everywhere.
The pain all blurred together, alternating between the lash and the damn chair at the mercy of Hades' fist.
The wounds on his back from the lash were healing improperly and still bleeding; he could feel the sticky wetness from the blood even now. The bastard kept his men focused on striking the same damn places, making it feel like utter molten pain.
Killian wondered, if he had still been alive, at which point his body would have simply given out.
But Hades had been right about that; being dead meant that his body didn't have limits. The pain just kept growing. There was no cap to what he would feel. No point where his body will decide it's had enough.
Even if his body didn't have a limit, Killian did.
He felt like he reached his own limits fifty lashes ago. Every new injury made him wonder how the hell he was supposed to handle the pain. If he didn't still have the ability to lose consciousness, he would have gone mad ages ago.
His leg nearly hurt more than everything else combined, though it seemed like it had broken so long ago. No position alleviated it, making Killian wonder if they re-injured it during one of the sessions he couldn't remember. The pain radiated like molten heat through the whole limb, only second to the agony of losing his left hand.
He lay on the floor of his cell, slipping in and out of consciousness, dreading hearing footsteps or waking up back in the throne room. He had no fight left in him. The last few visits with Hades, he's stopped bothering to reply to the devil's taunts. His throat felt raw from screaming.
He hadn't lost hope, though.
Did he think it was likely that he would escape?
No.
However, holding onto hope was all he had to fight with. It was the only weapon he could wield.
But dammit, even that was becoming too heavy to hold.
Was it even hope if he didn't truly believe in it?
Was he just hoping that he had hope at this point?
He wanted to laugh, but stopped in an instant when it scalded pain everywhere. Some unhinged sound broke out of his throat.
Hades didn't seem finished with him, even after all he's already done. It chilled Killian to remember Hades' words, that the punishment would simply go on and on and on…
He couldn't take much more of this.
Killian tried to slip into the blessed darkness of unconsciousness. Trying to escape the pain. Suddenly wishing for death, then when the sick irony struck him, he found himself laughing again, a broken and hysterical sound, though one shift of his ribs caused him to cry out a keening sort of noise.
He breathed shallowly, vowing to himself he would not move again.
He settled back into the dark.
"Killian?"
Emma.
That was Emma's voice.
It felt like soothing, cool water on his broken and scarred soul.
"Killian… we're here to help you," said Emma's voice. He hasn't heard her voice in so long. He listened to it desperately, clinging onto it.
And suddenly, Killian was no longer in the blessed darkness of near unconsciousness.
He was in a cemetery; what looked like the cemetery of Storybrooke on the edge of the woodland, but this was a ghastly version of it.
And there, among her family, was Emma.
As the vision pieced itself together, he watched Emma's eyes widen.
Gods, she was beautiful.
And terrified.
He watched the fear in her eyes, wondering what scared her.
"Killian!" she whispered, her voice cracking. She looked at him, losing color in her face. "Just tell us where you are," she said desperately. "Talk to us. Talk to me!"
Killian's eye snapped open.
He was once again in his cell. The cemetery was gone. She was gone.
But that had felt so real.
He had seen her, her face so perfect. Every time he tried to remember her face the details had begun to fade. But in this… vision… her details were there so clearly. He felt her, somewhere deep in his chest.
He hadn't dreamed at all since he died.
This was no dream.
That feeling in his chest, that sureness, knew it wasn't either. Emma had spoken to him. It was some sort of magic, it had to be.
She was here.
Emma was here.
In the Underworld.
Looking for him.
And gods if he wasn't so damned scared and in so much damned pain he would be beside himself with fury that she's put herself in danger for him.
"Em—" Killian attempted her name, perhaps whatever magic she'd used for the connection was still there. But he coughed, his voice raspy and rugged, and he groaned as the cough grated his broken bones. "Emma," he breathed, her beautiful name scraped out of his ragged voice. "Love?" he whispered.
Realizing with a heaviness that their connection, whatever it was, had broken, Killian took a hollow breath. Emma was here. The realization struck him with relief and fear at once. The last thing he wanted was for her in danger because bloody hell, I told her to let me go. But the desperation in his chest, leaking through him like adrenaline, spoke louder with the fact that gods he missed her so damned much.
Suddenly a worse thought struck him; how in the hell did she get here?
But her whole family was with her, including Henry. That certainly didn't mean they were all dead… right?
No, came the slow, beaten, logical voice in his head. If they were dead they would not be here.
He relaxed. Slightly.
Well, dammit, he wasn't going to lie here and wait. She'd asked him where he was; she can't find him. Why the bloody hell couldn't he have responded?
Nevermind it; it's not as if he knew where he was. Hades' prison and hellish office were all Killian's seen of the Underworld. He had no idea how to have directed Emma here.
Emma was here.
He found himself smiling, despite himself.
He missed her so damn much.
The need to see her, to hold her, to kiss her even just one last time fueled him with as much reserve energy his body could muster. And as much as he tried not feel it so desperately, the idea of being freed from Hades' onslaught was nearly blinding. Dammit, he hurt. The idea of having to face Hades again terrified him more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Captain Hook did not get scared.
But it seemed that Killian Jones did.
Emma really is a savior.
He needed to find her. Now.
Slowly, cautiously, Killian moved to lift himself off the floor.
He hadn't moved since he'd been dumped here by Hades' minions, so Killian hadn't had the pleasure of moving with his most recent injuries yet.
He screamed.
Clenching his teeth to morph the scream into a groan, Killian forced himself upright, using the wall for support, breathing heavily and leaning only on his right leg. The process was haltingly slow, and he nearly collapsed back to the ground more than once.
Finally upright, his vision blurred for a terrifying second, and he could only see through one damn eye as it was. But it cleared a bit as he leaned on the wall, resting for a second so the dizzy feeling passed. He turned, ready to fight the cell bars with all he had, but froze.
The bars were gone.
The opening of the cell stood open.
Killian stared in disbelief.
Hades wouldn't have let him go. He'd said so in the last beating.
Nor would he be careless enough to leave the damn door open.
Was he that cocky that he thought Killian was going to stare helplessly at an open doorway?
"Is this some bloody trick?" Killian yelled into the emptiness.
Silence responded, his voice's echo fading away into it. Dammit, he wasn't falling for an illusion again. Killian clenched his jaw, staring at the seeming freedom, trying to decide whether or not to take the chance. Hades could have any sort of trick planned for him.
But one more thought of Emma, and Killian's mind was made up.
He moved to step where the cell bars used to be.
"Stop!"
Killian jerked, startled at the sudden voice. He stumbled, but caught himself roughly on the wall, groaning as it ignited pain through his whole system. He looked sharply in the direction of the voice, terrified it was another guard to bring him back to Hades' chambers.
But it wasn't a guard; it was another prisoner.
Killian allowed himself a second of relief that he wasn't about to be dragged back into hell. Yet.
A young girl was sitting in a cell across from his. Just like his cell, hers had no bars as well. Killian suddenly wondered if she'd been here since he'd arrived or if she'd just gotten here recently. And how does such a young lass end up in the Underworld?
Shaking off the questions, Killian ground out through his raw throat, "What?"
"That's exactly what it is," she said, staring at the wall ahead of her, curled in on herself. "A trick. Don't move." Something haunted passed through her eyes, sending a chill down Killian's spine. "He wants you to think you can escape, but you can't." Her eyes fell from his, staring straight ahead into her own kind of a hell. "No one can," she whispered.
"Aye," said Killian, ignoring the fear her words ignited in him. "We'll see about that." He stepped forward, moving down one of the cement steps, but the simple feat sent agony ricocheting through every injury in his body, nearly making him collapse to the ground again.
"Don't."
Her voice was stronger this time, startling him again. He let a growl slip through his teeth, releasing pain and frustration.
"He'll hunt you down," the girl warned him hollowly.
Killian looked at her, bracing himself against the wall, hating how much he needed it to avoid collapsing to the ground. "Hades…" Gods, one word has him breathless. He took a sharp breath, wincing as it scraped broken ribs and a throat hoarse from screams. "…has already done his worst to me," he finished, shutting the eye that hadn't swollen for a brief second as the world went fuzzy again. He blinked fast, holding onto the wall for purchase. Gods, falling would bloody hurt.
"I don't mean Hades," the lass said, still staring at the wall before her, pulling her knees closer to her chest.
The chill that ran across his skin at the way she said it made him swallow. Hard. "Who, then?" he asked, knowing fairly well that he wasn't going to like the answer.
She opened her mouth to reply, then visibly shuddered. She quickly shook her head, pulling her knees closer to her chest. "No." He could see the tremors wrack her body. "Just don't."
"Look!" exploded Killian, damning his fear all to hell. "This isn't my first cell," he said heavily. "I don't just sit around and rot. Now, somebody's come down here to save me. And I need to make her job easier." He found his breath growing shallow again, and he blinked away the blackness dancing around his vision. He leaned heavily against the wall, praying not to pass out.
The lass looked at him, then, something shining in her eyes. "How do you know she's here?"
"She got me a message," he whispered, easing the blackness back with another breath.
"How do you know that wasn't one of Hades' tricks?"
Gods…
Killian felt another shiver through his spine, not even having thought of that.
He refused to believe it.
He'd felt her, dammit.
"Because I know!" he ground out. "When you love someone… you know." She didn't say anything, and at the moment, Killian didn't care if she believed him. Instead, feeling that fear at the edge of his mind, he asked, "What's keeping us here?"
If possible, more color left the girl's pale face. "Something you don't want to face."
Bloody cryptic lass, he found himself thinking angrily. "Well, I'll be the judge of that."
Without preparing for it, he stepped down another step, pain shooting up his ankle, his knee, igniting in his ribs and making him groan through his teeth, holding onto the wall for dear afterlife. Knowing taking his time wasn't going to help with the pain, Killian steeled himself as much as he could, and stepped down to the floor, panting, suddenly even more terrified because he only moved five bloody steps, and if this… this thing the girl was so terrified of was worse than Hades…
He knew he was screwed.
He knew he had little to zero chance of outrunning what stood in their way, let alone defeating it.
Hades had made sure of that, and it only made his anger fuel even hotter in his chest.
In the span of seconds, Killian's made up his mind.
He slowly pushed off the wall, swaying as he stood up on his own, desperately hoping he could hold his own weight. He took a step forward that was no more than a pathetic limp, his right ankle a fire all on its own, nearly unable to hold any weight at all. Teeth clenched so hard they were sure to break, Killian groaned, holding his hand to his ribs as he took a step toward the girl.
Hell, he's never felt weaker in his life.
Or in his death.
"Are you mad?!" she breathed, watching him with wide eyes.
He smiled a smile that was broken in so many ways, and he whispered breathlessly, "Perhaps." But he extended his bloody hand to her, the simple act of lifting his arm making him wince. She stared at him in shock, and he guessed that he seemed like the last person to offer someone else physical assistance. Always the gentleman, he found himself musing his own words. "But I'm the best chance you have." When she still only stared at his hand, fear and shock and indecision in her face, and gestured again with his hand, weakly conveying his urgency. "Come on," he breathed, his voice lost somewhere in the knives that had replaced his lungs.
She hesitated, looking out in the hallway past him, and when it remained silent, she nervously took his hand. Bless the lass, she didn't pull on his grip, for if he was being honest with himself, he couldn't have helped up a newborn babe in this state.
She let go of him the moment she was on her feet, and he swayed, hand coming back to his burning ribs. She stared at him for a moment, her eyes raking over him, attention he was so very used to, but not in this way. He could see fear deepen in her eyes as she looked from gash to bruise to dripping blood.
"You ready?" he whispered, pulling her gaze back to his face. She nodded quickly, and Killian pushed her gently ahead of him away from where he's usually dragged to Hades' torture chamber. They've never gone left before, so there must be a reason.
She ran ahead of him and he followed, his body unable to keep up with his mind's urgency, and he staggered after her, his pace slow. Too slow. He growled, half in frustration, half in bloody agony.
The moment they made it to the next hallway, a roar shook the ground, knocking the girl off her feet, but she sprang right back up. She backed up toward him, and Killian felt the fear he'd felt at her earlier words sink into his skin, for a moment paralyzing him to the spot.
"I told you we'll never make it!" she cried in panic.
Killian nodded grimly, saying, "We won't, but you will." Her eyes grew wide at the notion of what he was suggesting. He tried not to think of it. "I'll draw the hell beast away," he said heavily, "you, run." She nodded fiercely. Good lass. The last thing he needed was her to attempt to stay behind to help him. "And once you're free, find Emma Swan," he said firmly, each syllable of her name firm and slow, ensuring the girl remembered. The ground shook with another roar, making every broken bone grate against each other, and Killian grimaced, quickly saying, "I'm Captain Killian Jones. Captain Hook. Tell her to find me!" She was still staring at him, torn between fear and panic. "Go!"
Another—closer—roar shook the hall, and Killian watched her run like a bat out of—he'll never escape the puns—and he suddenly paid mind to the panic in his own system. Because even though he had a messenger now, with a fairly good chance of getting that message to Emma, he didn't exactly want to find out why the girl was so terrified of the beast the roar belonged to. Nor did he want to face the wrath of Hades if he were to fail to defeat whatever monster the roar belonged to.
And then, from the end of the hallway, he saw it.
Red eyes lit the darkness.
Three pairs of red eyes.
The beast crawled out of the depths, and Killian stood paralyzed.
It looked like some sort of three-headed canine. It was more than three times his size, each paw far bigger and heavier than his own head, and its muscles threatened pain.
Killian froze as the thing glared at him with three sets of eyes.
Then, he ran, back in the direction from which he came, attempting to lead it away from the girl.
The floor thundered beneath him like the waves of a sea storm. He was barely two steps away when something heavy and sharp struck him in the back, throwing him forward with the force of one of Storybrooke's infernal driving machines.
Killian landed hard on his chest, crying out as already-broken bones shattered on impact, and the momentum skidded him like a pebble across water. His back hit a wall hard, the pain exploding, making his vision go black around the edges.
Before he could do anything, a giant paw struck him once again in the chest, claws digging into his skin, one digging deep into his shoulder. Killian cried out, feeling hot blood stream down his chest and side.
The beast growled at him, hot breath stinging his eyes, pinning him to the wall.
Please, gods, tell me the lass made it out safely, he found himself begging.
Killian Jones hasn't begged since Liam was taken from him.
The black around his eyes was growing, and with dread Killian quickly realized he couldn't draw in air. The damn thing was suffocating him.
"She got away."
"Lord Hades won't be pleased."
"At least it managed to stop one of them..."
The set of voices drifted in from somewhere beyond the pain.
Killian writhed under the beast's hold, desperately trying to draw in air, the claws sinking deeper into his shoulder opening his mouth in a silent scream.
Suddenly the pressure lifted, and the paw was removed from his chest. He gasped in air, a strangled cry ripped from him as the claws tore out of him, and Killian collapsed to the floor.
Pain.
Killian could no longer feel anything except pain. Broken bones had just broken into smaller pieces. Blood was dripping down his chest and back. His shoulder felt like it had been ripped off.
He knew he was still screaming.
He couldn't bloody help it.
Hot blood seeped into his clothes, down his neck and chest, body throbbing with an intensity that made his vision darken.
He felt himself being lifted carelessly and agony lit up everywhere.
As he slipped mercifully into the darkness of unconsciousness, he prayed to every god in the realms that the young lass made it.
Chapter 6
Notes:
Last whumpy chapter before the comfort! ;)
Chapter Text
Killian's eyes cracked open. He was being carried—dragged.
He no longer felt pain.
He was pain.
His eyes screwed shut almost as quickly as he woke; the pain was blinding, ricocheting everywhere.
It took him a moment to crack his eyes back open. He sluggishly realized that the three-headed monster had only attacked him minutes ago, and he was being taken down a familiar dark tunnel.
Hades.
He was being taken to Hades.
After he tried to escape.
Absolute panic seized his chest.
He moved to fight the hold on him, but it tore harshly at his shoulder, and Killian screamed, sheer agony ripping through him.
The next thing he knew, he was blinking back to Hades' throne room.
Hades stood in the center of the room, waiting.
Killian was dropped carelessly, a wounded sound tearing from him. Fire, his shoulder was on fire—gods—gods it HURT—
"Isn't this exciting."
Hatred burned through him, just as hot as the agony.
"Well," said Killian, losing his breath in an instant. But he forced out the words, though they were as breathless as he was, tilting his head to look the God in the eye. "It will be," he rasped, "when I kill you."
Hades laughed, genuinely amused.
Killian hated him.
"Why does everyone say that?" said Hades. "You can't kill me. I am Hades. This," he gestured to the room, "is death."
Killian breathed hard, trying his damndest not to let any of his pain escape his clenched teeth. "Well," he huffed out, growling, "then I'll find out whatever's worse, and do it to you."
Hades just smiled like he thought the threat was cute and Killian resisted the urge to attack him then and there. But the act of keeping his eyes open and breathing past the pain of severely shattered ribs kept him from moving even an inch.
Hades cocked his head a little, eyeing Kilian's shoulder. With a glint of interest in his eyes, Hades took a few steps toward him, sinking down to his level.
Killian couldn't help a reflexive flinch, but paid for it when it pulled on a dozen injuries at once.
Hades ignored his recoil and reached for Killian's jacket collar. Killian felt his phantom heart race. But Hades didn't cause any more pain—this time—and just lifted the collar away from his wounded shoulder, making Killian hiss when it agitated the open and still-bleeding wound.
"I see you've met my pet," said Hades with a pleased smile. "You're about to find out," he said, his tone sending a chill straight down Killian's spine, "his master is not nearly as friendly."
Killian felt a blinding sort of panic rise within. He breathed hard, trying not to show his fear.
Hades' eyes narrowed.
Killian's phantom heart pounded.
"Because of you," said Hades, "a prisoner of mine got away."
Killian nearly smiled with relief that washed over his fear like rain in a desert.
She got away.
The lass was free.
Emma.
That firelight inside flickered back to life, the smallest wisp of hope keeping him warm.
Hades watched his reaction. His brow raised. "Now, now," he said, "don't get too excited, Captain. The girl might be free now, but that doesn't mean she'll deliver your message before my pet finds her."
Killian felt his expression fall slack in shock.
Hades grinned at Killian's reaction. "Didn't think I knew about that, did you?" he asked. "Yes, I know all about your savior coming down to save you. She's been running all over the damn place looking for her precious captain."
Killian went rigid.
Hades knew?
Hades smiled at his reaction. "Killed you and changed her mind," mused Hades. "Murderer's remorse?" He laughed at his own words. "I've never felt such a thing."
Killian shut his eyes, trying to fight the growing sense of despair. Part of Killian's hope had resided in the fact that he knew something Hades didn't. If Hades knew Emma was here…
That sense of despair grew and Killian fought to breathe through it.
"What's her name, again?" drawled Hades. "Ah," he said, as if remembering. "It's Emma, right?"
Hot anger burned through Killian the moment her name left the demon's lips. "How the devil—" breathed Killian, but Hades cut him off.
"This is my world, Captain," said Hades, gesturing with his hands and standing, a terrifyingly dark glint in his eyes. He glared down at Killian. "Nothing happens in my world that I don't know about."
"Except…" said Killian suddenly, a sly smile splitting the cut in his lip, "a prison escape, it… seems," he taunted raggedly.
Hades stomped his heel hard on Killian's chest, knocking him back to the ground, and igniting hot agony throughout his torso. Killian cried out, clenching his teeth immediately, trying to cut off his own voice.
However, somewhere beyond the pain, Killian felt a wave of satisfaction; he'd struck a nerve. It was clear in Hades' face that he was no longer amused, and was genuinely angry that he lost a prisoner. And this just proved that it might be his world, but he didn't know everything that went on in it.
That meant that he was not all-powerful.
He had blind spots.
He could be beaten.
That firelight sparked again, growing a little warmer.
Trying to breathe past the pain and the pressure on his lungs, Killian forced his eyes back open to see Hades glaring down at him.
"The girl might have gotten lucky," snarled Hades, "but she will be punished when I find her. Let me give you a sneak peek at what she's in for when I do."
Hades pressed harder. A ragged, broken sound escaped Killian's clenched teeth, and he clenched his jaw harder, resisting the fear that snaked up his spine.
"I can assure you, Captain," snarled Hades, "even if your foolish savior finds you, she will not be saving you. She'll need to find her own savior by the time I'm done with her."
Absolute, frigid cold froze Killian's chest.
Not Emma.
No.
"Don't you bl—bloody touch h—" rasped Killian, but Hades pressed even harder into him, stealing his breath and breaking his voice.
Hades removed his boot, leaving Killian heaving for breath, just barely keeping himself from writhing as the agony laced like fire through his chest and ribs. Black danced at the corners of his vision and he desperately tried to blink it away.
"All in good time," said Hades, that genuine-looking smile back on his face as he leaned back down to where Killian lay. "But for now, you need to be punished, Captain."
Killian reflexively flinched, breathing hard through the fire.
"You took something from me," said Hades. "My prisoner, what's-her-name." Killian swallowed. "Now I feel the need to take something from you."
Killian's eyes widened, fear cold and sharp, remembering Hades' words from ages ago: "Perhaps I'll take the other hand."
Killian quickly slid his hand under his back. Fear began to tremble his muscles harder.
Hades just laughed. "No, not that." he said dismissively. "Not yet, anyway."
Killian shut his eyes to the wave of relief and terror that struck at once.
Hades raked his cold, calculating eyes over Killian's frame, making Killian nearly shudder.
"How about this," said Hades, grabbing Killian's left arm. Killian gasped, trying to yank it out of the God's grip, but it was a futile attempt to try fighting the demon's strength. The God's grip didn't budge, and Killian breathed hard, eyes wide with fear, terrified he was going to lose his whole bloody arm, pain preventing him from doing anything except watch as Hades detached his hook from his brace.
Hades released him, standing, holding Killian's hook in his hand; the metal was half-crimson, stained with Killian's own blood.
Killian only revelled in the relief that the God hadn't maimed him for a moment. A wave of loss and defenselessness struck Killian in an instant, watching the demon hold one of the only things that has ever made Killian feel safe.
Hades looked down at him, holding his hook like some sort of prize, and smiled. "Not so tough are we, now?"
Killian gritted his teeth, anger coursing through him like water about to burst a dam.
"Since you obviously can't be trusted to listen to simple instructions," said Hades, "you are going to be staying here with me so I can make sure you behave." Hades leaned down, using Killian's hook to snag the collar of his jacket, and promptly began dragging him across the floor.
The moment Killian was moved, his back skidded across the hard ground, and the lash wounds exploded in fire. He cried out a horrible sound, trying to lift himself off the ground but didn't have the strength for it. His vision went white and black and everything ended in a haze by the time Hades dropped him.
The God left him sitting up against something solid.
Killian didn't care what it was.
He blinked slow, trying to feel past the wildfire of pain ripping through every nerve like flames devouring trees of a forest. He was shaking with pain and fatigue, the damn trembles making the injuries hurt worse. He tried to stop shaking.
He couldn't.
"Look at me, Captain," said Hades, and Killian forced himself to reluctantly look up. He knew what happened when he didn't, and right now he couldn't bloody take one more physical blow. Hades was standing before him, hook still in his hand. "I'm going to run an errand," he said. "While I'm gone, you are not to move. If I come back, and you've moved even an inch," his twisted smile hinted at his lips, "then I take the hand."
A jolt of fear slipped down Killian's spine.
"Understand?" asked Hades.
"Aye," whispered Killian, so quietly it was almost inaudible.
But the defeat in his voice was loud and perfectly clear.
Hades smiled. "Good. I'll be back soon."
He disappeared in a burst of blue flames.
Killian blinked long and slow.
And he did not move.
Killian didn't know how long Hades was gone. He'd long since given up trying to figure out how time worked here.
He still hadn't moved.
He was in the same position Hades left him in. His left leg was crumpled, his right laid out straight. His head canted back against whatever he was leaning against. Suddenly, two ticks sounded in the structure at his back, startling him a little, resembling the ticks of a clock. Too tired to care what it meant, Killian rested his head back against it.
He had given the idea of trying to escape a few seconds before deciding it was pointless. The entire cave seemed empty enough, but Killian had no idea if Hades had guards or traps set up. Not only that, if his pet was still there, which Killian wasn't exactly in a condition to bet against, there was no way Killian was escaping without losing a limb. Another limb, he thought bitterly, eyes flicking sadly down to his left arm, the empty brace now hidden beneath the sleeve of his jacket.
But even if there were no obstacles to his freedom, Killian knew with a painful certainty that he wouldn't even be able to stand at this point. Everything hurt. More than hurt, it was an absolute fire. Sitting still was fire. Every breath ground broken bones together. No shift of his body alleviated it, yet he's found at least four positions that made it worse. He'd given up trying to alleviate it, and simply tried to stay conscious. His nerves felt like severed, sparking power cables, or whatever Emma called those things in Storybrooke.
Emma.
The thought of her made him shut his eyes.
Hades knew she was here.
Killian knew Emma was an incredibly strong person, with and without magic, but the idea of her facing someone like Hades petrified him. She wasn't dead, which meant that Hades could kill her. Not just her, either; her whole family. What on earth was she doing coming down here and putting them all in danger for him?
He wasn't bloody worth it.
Killian let out a painful breath, gasping as it moved broken bones. Something caught in his chest and he coughed, making him see black for a few seconds. He blinked his eyes back to the room, tasting blood.
Gods, he wanted to stop hurting.
He wanted to be saved.
He didn't care if he deserved the pain. He knew he did.
He wanted to be bloody selfish and hoped against all damn odds that Emma found a way to get to him.
He just couldn't take this anymore.
Perhaps he was the coward after all.
Killian blinked tiredly. He so badly wanted to sleep, but the fear that he would move or fall while unconscious was enough to force him to stay awake. Hades had been right; the mere threat of losing his only hand was enough to scare him bloody straight. Killian knew he couldn't handle losing his right hand. The thought alone made his phantom heart race.
So, Killian remained as still as he could, and tried to breathe shallow.
When Hades did return, he appeared in a mass of blue flames in the center of the room. Killian flinched, startled, but managed to keep still otherwise. Fear prickled beneath his skin, but Killian tried his best to shove it down.
"Hm," said Hades, though his voice had a touch of anger mixed with the sarcastic tone. "Look at that. You can follow simple instructions."
Killian said nothing, too tired to respond.
Hades' brow twitched. "The prisoner you aided in escape," he began, making Killian tense. "She moved on from this realm."
Killian couldn't help himself. He let a lazy smile slip over his tired features. "Good for her."
Hades, however, reached into his jacket, pulling out some sort of tool. He held it by a wooden handle. The rest was straight metal. It looked like a club.
Ice slid down Killian's spine, realizing exactly what it was for.
Hades held it, smiling at Killian's reaction. Milking it.
Fighting the blinding urge to beg, because bloody fricken hell he cannot take any more pain, he forced every ounce of courage he had to growl, "Get on with it then."
Hades' lifted his brows in faux surprise. "Oh, this?" he asked, gesturing with the weapon. He stepped forward, approaching Killian, who tried his best not to flinch. "No…" said Hades. "No, this isn't for you." He laughed, Killian's fear amusing him. Relief coursed briefly through Killian's system until Hades said, "It's for your friends."
Killian's eyes widened a fraction.
Hades bent down to look Killian in the eye. Killian felt himself tense at the God's proximity. Hades held out the tool in front of Killian, gesturing for him to take it.
Killian felt his pride leave his soul as he obeyed. Lifting his arm made him wince, but he managed to curl his fingers around the handle.
Hades smiled, seeming satisfied with his acquiescence.
Killian felt hatred consume him. "What the bloody hell am I supposed to do with this?" growled Killian.
"Simple accounting, really." said Hades. "At first, I wanted your friends to leave. I really had such a smooth-running operation going on here before they arrived. But now, I've decided they've caused too much damage. First, you let my prisoner escape, then they help her leave my realm completely?" He tutted at it like it disrespected him.
Killian felt a buried emotion rise to the surface.
The lass found Emma.
Emma knew where he was now.
And wasn't that just like Emma, to save yet another soul?
But Hades went on, halting Killian's musing—"So," said Hades, the tone of his voice making Killian feel his fear rise back up full force, "my vindictive side—did you know I have one?" A twisted smile tilted his lips, and he leaned close enough to make Killian shiver as he said, "It wants to punish them."
Killian shut his eyes, fear pulsing harsher than the pain.
Hades stood. "So," he said, walking back to the center of the room, touching the air, "from now on, for every soul your friends free, one of them," he said, three blank gravestones appearing at his fingertips, "is going to have to stay here."
If Killian still had a heart, it would have stopped.
"And, Captain," said Hades with sick pleasure, "you get to decide who."
Killian couldn't breathe.
Hades watched him in silence.
When that silence spread, Killian's mind going frighteningly quiet with absolute dread, Hades said, "Oh, come on. All you have to do is choose three of your friends to stay here. Just carve their names."
Killian felt a burn behind his eyes.
No.
He couldn't.
"What's the problem?" asked Hades. "Is it the chisel? So unwieldy for the one-handed?"
He bloody couldn't.
"Or is it writer's block?"
NO.
Without thinking, Killian threw the chisel. It clattered on the ground a few feet away. Heavily, not knowing what the bloody hell the God was going to do to him for it, Killian said, "I'm not doing it."
Silence.
Absolute, stark silence.
Killian risked a look at Hades, seeing the terrifyingly blank look on his face.
Killian looked away.
He tried to quell the rising panic.
"I must say," said Hades quietly, making Killian jolt, "I'm not angry."
Killian's chest hurt.
He couldn't breathe.
"I'm disappointed."
Hades approached him again, bending down to his ear, "And on second thought," he whispered. Killian's body was so bloody rigid. "I'm angry."
Killian shut his eyes, bracing himself, panic rising like a tide.
"I guess it's off to solitary."
Without warning, Hades grabbed a handful of Killian's hair. He yanked hard, pulling him up by it, tearing a ragged cry from Killian's throat. Desperately Killian got his right leg under him to take the pressure off as Hades used his grip on Killian's hair to drag him, another yell scraped out of Killian's chest. He managed to get upright, and Hades released his hair to grab him around the back, making Killian's teeth snap together to hold in another cry as he tore on the lash wounds.
Hades dragged Killian toward the green river, the hissing growing louder the closer they got. Fear seized Killian's chest.
They stopped at the edge.
"Listen carefully."
Killian breathed hard, barely able to keep the pain out of his voice. He listed badly to the side, but Hades kept a death grip on him.
"This is the River of Lost Souls," said Hades, as if it were some tourist location. "Touch it," he whispered, "and it will make you lost, reducing you to a mindless, tormented husk."
Killian swallowed hard, his entire body shaking from strain and fear.
"So, please," Hades said, a smile in his voice, "keep all arms and hand inside the boat."
There was a small boat at their feet, resting at the edge of the water. Carelessly, Hades shoved Killian into it, making him collapse into the front.
Pain flashed white in his vision.
A slap to his face was the next thing he knew.
"Didn't know the history lesson was boring you that much," said Hades from behind him. Killian blinked slow, realizing he must have passed out for a few seconds. Black still danced around the edges of his vision. "Stay awake," said Hades in a low voice, "or you end up in the River early."
Killian's eyes widened a little, fear racing through him.
Early.
Hades was going to toss him to the River.
Killian shut his eyes, clinging desperately onto consciousness, even as Hades stepped in the back of the boat, and they started moving, wading through the hissing, neon-tinted water.
Emma.
He'd been so close.
He'd thought he was going to see her again.
Feel her again.
Tell her he loved her and how damn, bloody sorry he was for everything he's done.
And now….
The hissing grew louder, making Killian open his eyes. They were approaching a stone archway, words carved into it reading: "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here."
Killian swallowed hard, and began to do just that.
Chapter 7
Notes:
Hi guys!
Thank you all so much for reading, and a very special thank you to those who've left reviews! It means so much and makes my day every time, thank you so much! :)
This chapter is where canon will start to change... and where the comfort begins ;)
~cosette141
Chapter Text
Everything was a blur.
Killian had tried his best to stay conscious through the boat ride, which he had been semi-successful at. It was when the boat stopped, Hades grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him out that things really became a blur.
Killian kept his eyes screwed shut, and had no idea how many times he slipped back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness as Hades dragged him.
At some point, a yell startled him awake—his own—and he blinked his eyes open to a cave that was even darker than Hades' throne room, only lit by the incandescent glow of the River from below.
He was sitting on a metal, circular platform. The platform itself was suspended in the middle of the cave over the water, and from the gaps in the metal Killian could see the waves of the River lapping a few yards below him.
Something suddenly jerked against him, and tightened.
Killian quickly found it hard to breathe, and something in his chest shifted, making him cough a cry. He sluggishly looked down to see his torso wrapped tightly in chains, pinning his arms to his sides.
When…?
The thought dissolved in an instant when a cranking sound echoed throughout the cave, and suddenly he was being lifted. The chains tightened around him, lifting him off the platform to suspend him over the center of it, where the floor had dropped away and the River waited unforgivingly below.
Killian couldn't help the scream as he was lifted, the shock of pain thrusting him abruptly back to lucidity.
At some point, the movement stopped, leaving Killian high above the metal floor. He managed to clench his teeth to stop screaming, but he couldn't help a broken grunt from choking out of his throat.
"Comfortable?"
Hades' voice flitted in from somewhere very far away.
"You might be wondering why I'm bothering with theatrics," Hades went on, and Killian cracked his good eye open, seeing the God walking the platform, circling him like a vulture. Killian's vision was doubling. Killian blinked to clear the blur in his vision. "See," Hades went on, "I could just push you into the River. It's easy enough."
Killian shut his eyes, trying to quell his fear.
"Well, firstly," said Hades, "where's the fun in that? And secondly, there are just some souls who need to suffer." He stopped in front of Killian, looking up at him with a sick glint in his eye. "I made this fun contraption for people like you, who have irritated me so much that they don't deserve a quick damnation. They—you, Captain—deserve to think about it for a while first. Really settle into the idea that your entire existence is about to be destroyed, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."
Killian was shaking harder.
He didn't know if it was from fear, pain or bloody hatred.
Hades resumed circling him. "Now," said the God, "I want you to think about why you're here. You tried to escape, you freed another prisoner, you refuse to do what I ask, and—" Killian could hear the smile in his voice—"Do you know the most important reason?"
Hades' face blurred into view. Killian drew in a breath that scraped his lungs, attempting to respond, his voice stunted, "I… couldn't…" His lungs were on fire. The words scraped his throat. He rasped out, "…begin to guess," clenching his teeth. He breathed hollowly, every restricted move of his chest pure, raw excruciation.
"Hope," came Hades' voice, making Killian crack open his eyes, only the one offering him any vision. And though blurry it was. "You and your colleagues brought contraband," Hades went on, "hope, into my world, and that is strictly forbidden." He stepped closer, and Killian glared at him, a glare that promised the worst death possible, making him think not for the first time he needed to make enemies who were not immortal, but the strength it took to even muster up the expression was waning terribly. "And despite some… creative beatings," Hades went on, raking his eyes over Killian's broken frame, "I still see hope in your eyes. Now, I would like that to be gone by the time you reach the water."
The chain vibrated suddenly with movement, lowering him inch by inch. The jarring motion tightened the chains around every open wound, every broken bone. Killian's eyes screwed shut.
Agony.
He was in agony.
It stole his breath.
What felt like a lifetime later, the movement stopped, and Killian was held suspended in the air, that much closer to eternal damnation. He was trembling violently, making the chain rattle. He cracked his eyes open, using every ounce of strength left not to bloody scream.
"You have interfered with my carefully cultivated existence." said Hades, stepping even closer to him, making Killian flinch on reflex. They were face-to-face now, and Hades grabbed the chain, pulling Killian even closer to him. "So," said Hades, his face inches from Killian's, "I am going to hurt you." A broken sound escaped Killian's throat. "And then," Hades went on, "I'm going to collect your friends—" Another sound broke from Killian's chest, something strangled and painful— "—and I am going to hurt them." Hades gave him a tiny, wicked grin. "So," he drawled, "there's going to be no one left to save you."
Absolute and total hopelessness made his eyes shut, thinking of Emma, thinking of her family, the people he's come to know as nearly his own, here because of him, to be hurt because of him—
He wanted to scream.
Gods, he wanted to bloody scream.
"Feel free to go mad," said Hades, stepping back. In a burst of flames, Hades disappeared, and Killian was left alone.
He felt the chains shift again, and he tried to brace himself for the pain.
He couldn't.
Killian shut his eyes, agony lacing through every nerve ending, his mouth open in a silent scream.
Perhaps, at least as a mindless lost soul, he would be free from the physical pain.
However pleasant the thought of freeing himself from this physical hell, it wasn't enough to make the River any more enticing.
He needed to help Emma.
He needed to save her, dammit.
What the bloody hell did she think she was doing coming down here?!
And yet, the echo of her voice telling him, I've come down to help you, flitted angelically through his mind, and he found himself desperately, brokenly wanting to be saved. He wanted the pain to end. He wanted to rest. Gods, he wanted to find a moment of peace.
But he was trapped, and she was in danger. Even if he were to free himself from the chain, his broken body was a prison all on its own.
He couldn't do a damn thing but spend his last moments with the cold realization that he would be the cause of Emma's demise.
"KILLIAN!"
A scream echoed in the room, almost making him flinch.
Emma.
That was Emma's voice.
Could it…?
His head pounded.
His vision blurred everything together.
Leave it to his mind to go truly mad in his final moments.
She sounded so real.
He wanted to lift his head, see the illusion for himself.
But he was so tired.
He thought he heard footsteps ringing off metal.
He blinked slow.
Suddenly the chain lowered again, igniting the pain all over again.
His eyes screwed shut, his teeth clenched, his voice lost somewhere in his throat. Suddenly afraid of how close he was to the water, he opened his eyes.
The pain sparked a little more clarity into him, enough to offer some more focus. Something was moving ahead of him. He blinked a few more times, making out the figure—someone—golden hair—
Emma.
His good eye widened a fraction.
Emma was halfway down a metal shaft, leading from the caves to the platform. "I'm coming for you!" she yelled breathlessly. "Hang on!"
Killian felt something surge deep within him.
She was real.
He knew she was.
When you love someone, you know.
It was Emma.
Emma.
Relief flooded him.
Panic consumed him an instant later.
And only increased when she slipped, nearly falling into the River.
But before he could attempt to find his voice, the chains were moving, dropping him even lower.
Agony.
Agony.
AGONY.
Somewhere beyond the pain, he suddenly felt hands touching him. More pain ignited as he was moved, the hands holding him too tightly, moving him too fast, touching open wounds.
But he knew those hands.
Emma.
He just managed a half-second moment of relief knowing she didn't fall victim to the River, only for her to begin to lay him down.
Groans were torn from his chest as he hit the platform, though he could tell Emma was trying to be gentle. She was trying to pull him away from the edge, and he lifted the leg that wasn't broken, hissing as it opened old wounds, and he weakly tried to help.
He blinked quickly, trying to clear the blur from his vision, seeing the vague form of her face, her shoulders leaning over him. He blinked more, her face clearing into a fuzzy look of panic.
She was so beautiful.
And he could feel her.
She was real.
It was really her.
Emma.
He tried to move—wanted to touch her, to make absolute sure—but the moment he shifted, a cry escaped his throat, sharp and raw like a wounded animal. He heard a sob, and then arms were around him, helping him up with tender and careful touches. He couldn't help biting another cry through clenched teeth as her fingers pressed into broken bones.
Trying again to clear his vision, now mostly upright, he could see her face. Her eyes tracked everywhere that he hurt, horror written in her eyes as she looked from the gash above his good eye to the mess that his left eye must be. Another sound like a sob escaped her, and she lifted a hand to cup his cheek, but didn't touch him, like she was terrified to break him.
"Killian…" she said in a broken voice. Her eyes fell to his shoulder, where he knew the three-headed monster had sunk its claws into. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her. Her eyes traced his injuries, her face growing more and more tortured the more she saw. "What's he done to you?" she whispered, her voice cracking, a tear falling down her cheek.
He tried to speak, tell her he was okay, however much a lie it was, but his voice was caught somewhere in his chest. Bloody hell, he wasn't. He coughed, his voice ragged, and he groaned when the cough ignited more pain. Her tender grip holding him upright tightened a little at the sound of his pain. He breathed shallowly, the chain still too tight for his chest to move properly. "Emma," he managed in a whisper, her name flicking life at the corners of his lips. "Emma." She was here. She was here. He could feel her. He could see those eyes again, that emerald warmth, hazy from unshed tears but no less her. A million words were conveyed through voicing her name alone, and he watched another tear fall down her cheek, seeing the sheer relief he felt reflected in her eyes.
He thought he'd never see her again.
A true smile graced his lips, worth it even when it tugged at more than one cut. She returned it, a smile filled with such joy, and it was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
As gently as sunlight touching the horizon, Emma pulled him to her, wrapping him in her arms. It hurt and stung sharply in more than one place, but he held in a hiss, not wanting to break her hold with fear she was hurting him. He felt her head nestle into his less-injured shoulder. He shut his eyes, even as the pain thrummed throughout his whole being, still making him tremble. The scent of her hair was like cool, blissful relief. And gods, he wanted to hold her properly, hold her so tightly and never, ever let go. Wanted it so badly it hurt worse than any of the pain. But right now, she was safe, and so was he. They were together. As selfish as it was, he was so bloody grateful that she was here. He'd been seconds away from eternal damnation. Killian felt tears sting, hating himself for being so damned happy she was here. He took in another breath, breathed her in, relished in the realness of her, the first gentle thing he's felt in so long.
"I missed you," she whispered over his shoulder. "Killian, I missed you so much."
His eyes burned. Something hot slipped down his cheek. "And I… you," he said thickly, even when the words scraped his lungs like knives. "You have no idea," he whispered brokenly. He didn't care about the pain anymore. Emma was here, he was in her arms and he's missed her so damn much.
After a moment, Emma pulled away, looking back at his face, eyes still shining with tears. "Let's get you out of these," she whispered, fingers finding the chains that still nearly suffocated him.
He watched her get to her knees, one hand steadying him, the other moving to the chains. He saw her eyes scan them. She looked at his face. "I can't use magic," she said quietly, apologetically. "Gold said Hades knows when people use magic here. I can't let him know you're safe…" The apology in her eyes deepened. "This might hurt," she said quietly.
Killian just shut his eyes, nodding. "'S'all right... love," he managed.
Another sound like a sob escaped her, making Killian open his eyes. "You don't know how much I've missed hearing you call me that," she whispered with another broken smile.
A strained smile flicked his lips again, only to fall when she tugged at the chain. A grunt escaped him as it pulled on broken ribs and the myriad of lashes on his back. Bless her, she didn't stop other than whispering apology after apology every time he made a noise. She kept pulling, tugging and jerking it loose until Killian was shaking harder, eyes screwed shut, drawing blood from his bitten tongue in a failing attempt to keep his pain silent.
But she must have found a way to release them, because little by little he was able to move his chest easier. He couldn't help his shaking—which had turned jerky and violent—and her one hand never left his less-hurt shoulder to keep him steady. But even as he was able to breathe easier, familiar black spots danced over his vision and he shut his eyes, willing himself not to pass out.
He could hear her voice from miles away, like she was speaking through water. Emma's fingers touching his right cheek pulled him back from the depths, a static that sizzled beneath his skin. His eyes opened—his left as much as it would allow—and he saw her worried gaze.
"Killian?" she asked, voice sharp with fear. He wondered how long he'd been dazed. "Killian, you're free. I got it off… are you okay?" When his voice was still lost somewhere in the depths, he felt her fingers cup the side of his face, a sense of urgency in them. "Killian? Can you hear me? Say something," she breathed, panic in her eyes.
"I…" He couldn't offer more than the one word, not even sure where he was going with it. But it seemed to be enough for her, to at least show her he was semi-lucid.
"That's it," she coaxed softly, and he could hear the relieved smile in her voice. He tried to meet her gaze, but his head was suddenly too heavy to lift. "Can you stand?" she asked hesitantly.
Forcing himself past the exhaustion, he lifted his head. The effort it took made him shake harder. Gods, he was so weak. "Yes," he rasped, though he truly didn't know how much of his weight he could hold.
"Don't worry," came her voice again, like water on dry land. "I've got you, Killian. We'll stand together." What in all the realms has he done to deserve her? He blinked a few times, trying to clear the haze in his already divided vision.
"Left leg's…" he whispered, voice waning strength. "Broken," he finished shortly.
He heard more than saw her look at his leg, for she sucked in a little gasp. The grip she still had on his less-wounded shoulder tightened. She moved then, shifting herself so that her eyes were directly in front of his, locking her eyes on his. He blinked again, trying to clear the blur. "The minute I get you out of here," said Emma, her voice wavering with the threat of more tears, "I'm going to heal you. I will take away all your pain. Okay? I promise," she whispered, her thumb brushing his cheek, one of the only places that wasn't on fire. "Just hang on a little while longer, okay?"
He felt tears sting his eyes. No one has ever spoken so gently to him in all his years. Overcome with a mix of emotions, Killian just shut his eyes and gave a short nod.
"Okay," said Emma, her voice making Killian force his eyes open again. She was on her knees, still holding him upright. "I'm going to help you up," she said slowly, her voice a little shaky.
He gave another short nod.
Emma got to her feet, one hand still holding him steady. Killian slowly bent his right knee, pressing his boot to the floor in preparation. Emma slipped her other arm under Killian's left and around his back. Even her feather light touch made the lash wounds sizzle, and Killian fought not to gasp.
"Ready?" asked Emma, though by the sound of her voice, she was nowhere near ready herself.
But Killian wanted to get out of here as soon as possible—for her sake as much as his—so he just gave another jerked nod and screwed his eyes shut.
Emma grabbed him around the back and started to lift him.
Bloody damn HELL—
A strangled cry escaped his clenched teeth, making Emma freeze and nearly drop him.
Pain.
Ripping across his back.
A million cuts reigniting, broken bones grinding white-hot against one another—
"Killian—?!"
"Don't—agh," his body shook with strain, pain wracking in spasms. Another broken sound tore from his throat. He shook harder. "Don't—stop," he whispered brokenly.
Blessedly, she listened after another half-second's hesitance, but she shifted her grip, no longer touching his back and she held him even gentler. Waves of radiating agony still rode him with every shift of his body, making his jaw snap shut to keep himself quiet. He couldn't help the shaking, and it made it nearly impossible to get his good leg to cooperate. But somehow, he got it under him, and was holding at least some of his own weight.
The moment he was upright, Emma was back in front of him, holding his swaying form with a grip under his shoulders.
"Are you okay?"
Her voice was no more than a whisper. He wrenched open his eyes to see her, a new tear falling down her face.
He sluggishly realized one was falling down his own.
"Yes," he answered breathlessly, though they both knew he was the furthest thing from okay.
"How do you want me to hold you?" she asked him, voice hitching when she looked from injury to injury and asked, "Where…?"
Killian was afraid to admit that there was nowhere that wouldn't cause agony with pressure. It was already agony without pressure. But when he was quiet a moment too long, Emma said, "Why don't you lean on me?" Before he could reply, she took his good arm, pulling it gently and slowly around her shoulders. He winced a little.
Tentatively, Emma slipped her free arm around his back, much closer to his waist. He felt Emma tentatively press her hand to it, and though he felt the sting of the lacerations, it wasn't the fire that it had been a few minutes ago.
"Okay?" asked Emma shakily.
He nodded tiredly.
"Ready?"
No. "Aye."
She took a tentative step forward, and her arm tightened a bit on him. His weight felt much heavier than normal, making his good leg falter a little. When it did, Emma had to grab him quick to keep him from falling. He groaned, but managed to find his footing again and stay upright.
"Shit," he heard her whisper.
His good eye opened. "What's… wrong?" he huffed out, phantom heart picking up.
She was looking at the metal bridge she'd crossed to get to him. "How are we going to do this?" she whispered.
Killian swallowed. It was only a few inches wide. He couldn't even walk—let alone stand—on the platform without assistance. And there was no way Emma could support him on that. They'd both end up in the River.
"I'm going to have to use magic," she said quietly. "Hades might know I'm here…"
And there's no telling what he'd do if he found her.
"No," he said, making her head turn toward him.
"But, Killian, you can't—"
"Aye," he rasped gravelly, "No magic, Swan. Leave me." The words tore out of his chest, burning off his tongue, panic bubbling in his chest at the notion. But if there was anything worse than the thought of spending eternity here without her, it was having Hades find and hurt her. The thought alone sent an icy chill of petrifying fear down his spine.
Emma looked at him incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about, Killian?! I'm not leaving you here!" Her grip tightened on him.
"I am going to hurt you. Then, I am going to collect your friends, and I am going to hurt them."
"Emma," he said, lifting his head to face her, seeing the wild look in her eyes. Though, it faltered when she saw his expression. He knew she'd never seen him look so openly scared before.
He'd never been this scared before.
"Even if your savior finds you, she will not be saving you. She'll need her own savior by the time I'm done with her."
"Hades… will hurt you," he whispered, the words difficult and exhausting to speak but still strong and desperate.
Emma's face hardened. "I've already met Hades, and he hurt you." Her voice broke a little, before setting into the familiar defiance of her armor. "If we run into him, it's that bastard who should be afraid of me."
He only wished either of them were as confident as the words themselves.
"Em—"
"I'm not leaving you, Killian," she said firmly, passion like a fire in her, matching the desperation in his. "I won't lose you again," she said in a whisper, pain bright in her eyes. "I'll jump into that River myself before I walk away from you. I am bringing you home, Killian."
That fiery look in her eyes, alive with fear and urgency and absolute love made Killian shut his, feeling them burn and again hate himself for how bloody happy he was that she was here.
"I'll just poof us back to the boat and we'll be gone before Hades knows a thing," said Emma with confidence that he unfortunately knew was forced.
Killian felt discomfort settle in his gut. But he nodded anyway.
Emma closed her eyes, and the familiar tug of magic enveloped them.
The smoke cleared and—
They appeared on the cave floor, on the other side of the metal bridge, not twenty feet from where they'd been standing.
"This isn't what I…" began Emma, but she suddenly swayed.
"Emma?!" exclaimed Killian, fear sharp in his chest.
Her grip on him tightened to keep her own balance, and he couldn't help a cry when she pulled on his lash wounds.
Her eyes shot open. "Killian—! I'm sorry—are you okay?" He nodded shortly as she steadied him, thankfully keeping him on his feet. "I just… this isn't what I tried to do. We should have appeared back at the boat," she said, her voice gaining a touch of panic. "And…" She shut her eyes, pressing a hand to her temple.
"Emma?!" he whispered breathlessly.
Her eyes opened. "It drained a lot out of me, that's all," she said shakily. "Something must be wrong with my magic." A little more fear in her eyes, she adjusted her grip on him, saying breathlessly, "We need to get out of here now before Hades—"
"—shows up?"
In a burst of flames, Hades was standing before them, a smile on his face.
Chapter Text
Emma froze.
Hades stood in the cave entrance, a sly smile on his face, like one would wear the moment they learned they had a winning hand.
Killian went absolutely rigid against her.
No.
They were so close.
They had been so close.
As much as Emma wanted to believe her words to Killian, Hades did scare her.
And he absolutely petrified Killian.
She'd never seen Killian so terrified, so… so broken—
No.
She felt a determined resolve settle beneath the rising fear.
She was bringing Killian home, damn it.
She tried to hold onto that hope as tightly as she did Killian's trembling frame.
But whatever was wrong with her magic had taken a toll on her. She felt exhausted from it, and keeping Killian upright was harder now. She blinked, trying to regain strength.
"The Savior at it again, hm?" drawled Hades, taking a step toward them.
If possible, Killian's body tensed more.
Emma thought he would snap.
"You're something of a conflict of interest," said Hades, cocking his head, eyes narrowing. "See, Miss. Swan, I get that the whole 'saving people' thing", he said, using air quotes on the words, "is your thing. But, you see, damning people is my thing." He mock-pouted. "You're in my territory and you're making my job incredibly hard."
"Your job should be helping people with unfinished business move on," snarled Emma, "not torture them." Her voice gained an edge, her anger rising sharply, feeling the wet blood on her hands—Killian's blood—feeling him tremble like he was hypothermic, hearing him breathe like something was wrong inside him—
"Emma," said Killian in a gasp, like a warning.
"I'll do my job the way I see fit," snapped Hades, and Emma nearly stumbled back at the change in tone. Emma blinked again, trying to clear the onslaught of tiredness.
That twisted smile returned to Hades' face as he watched her. "Tired?"
Fear shot through her.
Hades' smile grew. "It's the dark magic," he drawled. "The Underworld is the darkest realm of them all, and this," he gestured, "is the darkest spot in the Underworld." A malicious glint in his eye, he said, "This is where dark magic thrives. Light magic is weak here—it's one of the only places light magic is weak—as you seem to be discovering right about now."
Emma felt ice trail through her.
Earlier, in the caves, the closer she had run toward Killian, the more she felt this strange pressure in the air.
She'd thought it was her own fear.
"If it makes you feel better," Hades went on, "the use of your magic just now didn't alert me you were here. It's cute that you thought I didn't already know." he said slyly, making Emma's anger build. "That little scene over there…" His eyes flicked to the platform and back. "Touching." Malice back in his eyes, he said, "I worked so hard to beat the hope out of your captain—" Emma flinched at the words— "And yet, you come in here undo all of my hard work."
He took a step closer to them, a predator advancing on prey.
Emma released one arm from around Killian, quickly extending her palm toward the God and concentrated every ounce of her magic, trying to form a blast that normally took little effort. It felt like trying to move concrete. Concentrating harder, sparks jumped from her palm, but fizzled out far before they reached where Hades stood. More exhaustion trailed through her the harder she tried, making her stumble. She opened her eyes, ceasing the attempt at magic before she accidentally dropped Killian.
Hades laughed.
Fear seized Emma's heart.
She looked at Killian, fear in her eyes. "I can't use magic," she whispered breathlessly.
The look in his uninjured eye matched the panic in her heart.
"Let me sum it up for you: you're not getting out of here." said Hades. "And even if you did," he said, "I've already sent the Dark One on his way and returned the boat you procured from me. You no longer have passage out of here."
Emma felt the last of her hope leave her.
Hades took another step toward them. He tilted his head, eyes raking over Killian, who was still trembling in Emma's hold. She tightened her grip on him reflexively, protectively.
"You're not looking too good, Captain," said Hades, looking him up and down in a way that made Emma's blood boil. "Let me make you feel worse." he said with a mock-innocent smile. "Since it doesn't seem to matter how much I hurt you," he said, "I decided to take out your sins on the people who aid you. Starting with, what was her name again?" He rubbed his chin in sarcastic thought. "Oh, right. Milah."
Killian jolted.
Emma shut her eyes, knowing exactly what Hades must have done.
"Milah?" breathed Killian, voice small and hurt.
"She—" Emma's voice caught. "She helped me find you," whispered Emma, looking at him.
The look in his good eye was absolute pain.
"And she's paying for it." said Hades, that coldness back in his eyes. "Though, she doesn't know she's paying for it. Mindless husk, and all."
A sound escaped Killian, something between fury and horror.
Emma shut her eyes, anger building.
The God was making Killian suffer a million times over, and she wanted to kill him.
"Oh, but I'm not done," said Hades, approaching them, making Emma's heart race. "Before I throw you to the River, Captain," said Hades darkly, "you get to watch your beloved savior go in first."
Emma's breath left her in an instant.
Killian went still.
"No," breathed Killian. Emma felt Killian's shaky grip on her shoulder tighten, holding on as hard as he could. "Please," he whispered, voice desperate and utterly broken. "Not her."
"Oh, yes her," hissed Hades, drawing closer, making Emma stagger backward, but not before Hades grabbed her around the throat.
"NO!" cried Killian.
But the moment Hades' fingers touched her skin, Emma felt a vibrant warmth rise deep in her chest, and in an explosion of white light, Hades was blasted backward, landing a dozen feet away on his back.
Emma blinked, startled.
Diving in front of Mary Margaret, Cora's hand sinking into Emma's chest, wrapping around her heart.
Warmth like none she's ever felt before built, exploding outward—
Emma felt the ghost of a smile tug at her lips.
"What?!" hissed Hades, rising from the ground, absolute fury in his eyes, dissolving his hair into blue flames.
Emma grinned, relief and newfound hope fueling her even past the exhaustion. "I'm the product of True Love, asshole," she said triumphantly, her heart still pounding.
That seemed to be news to Hades, and something he despised. He raised his own palm toward her, blue flames leaping out toward Emma. She braced herself, but the flames didn't even touch her. They veered away from her, dispersing instantly like she was surrounded by protection.
True Love.
The most powerful magic of all.
Her light magic might be weakened, she might not be able to hurt Hades, but he couldn't hurt her.
Hades growled aloud. He glared at her, looking for the first time unsure of his next move.
But then…
Emma watched something in his eyes change, and his sadistic grin was back. "I might not be able to touch you, Savior," he said dangerously, "but I can touch him."
Emma's grin slipped from her face in an instant, panic consuming her even when Hades thrust his hand forward, closing harshly around air. Killian jerked violently, ripped from Emma's arms, Killian's head canting back as Hades' hold held him mid-air by his throat.
He was choking him.
Hades was choking him.
Suspended by the invisible grip around his throat, Killian's hand and hookless arm scrabbled at the pressure around his throat. His eyes screwed shut and horrible, strangled gasps escaped his clenched teeth.
"Killian!" screamed Emma, looking wildly from him to Hades, who seemed to be enjoying his struggle.
Hades' grin deepened. "Enjoy the swim, Captain," he hissed, and Hades moved to throw him into the River.
"E—m—" croaked Killian, tears leaking from his eyes.
Emma's own burned down her cheeks, horrified.
"Actually…"
In an instant, Hades dropped his hand, releasing his hold on Killian's throat, causally moving his hand to tap his fingers to his chin in thought.
Killian hit the ground.
The moment he hit the floor, his back arched, and he gasped in air only to scream.
The sheer sound of it jolted Emma, freezing her tears on her face. His voice didn't even sound human. The scream broke off into a keening sound that made Emma's heart stop.
Her knees hit the ground, hands hovering over him as he writhed. His eyes were screwed shut and he jerked as he rode raw agony. His voice broke again, leaving him heaving for breath, shaking uncontrollably.
"Killian!" breathed Emma.
Hades approached him, staring down at Killian with narrowed eyes.
Pure anger burned Emma's blood. "Stay away from him!" she hissed, her voice cracking.
Hades ignored her. Just stared at Killian, whose teeth were clenched, broken sounds still escaping him. "I think," said Hades, "being a mindless lost soul is too good for you, Captain." He pressed the toe of his boot into Killian's wounded shoulder, making him cry out a sound even worse than before. Emma lost her breath.
"There's more than one kind of damnation, Hook," snarled Hades, "and I want you to be fully aware of your suffering. So, I'm going to instead leave you here," he said with a dark smile, "trapped in the underground caves with no way out. And you get to watch your savior die in them." He bent down, whispering to Killian, "That's two women you've damned. I think it's about time to realize that you deserve to suffer."
A broken sound escaped Killian.
"Enjoy hell," hissed Hades, flicking his grin to Emma before snapping his fingers, dissolving the entrance to the cave she'd come from into a solid wall. And not a second later, blue flames consumed the God himself. Hades was gone.
And they were completely, hopelessly trapped.
Notes:
a/n: thanks so much for reading! :) I am taking a few liberties with the way magic works in Once canon, but I'm only bending the magic rules to make sure that Killian gets just as much comfort as the hurt, and to milk the hurt/comfort for everything it's freaking worth lol. I still think Killian was sorely robbed of proper comfort in this arc of the show. Hopefully I found a way to make the magic rules/lore sound plausible; it's pretty much the way I wish it would have been. Not big changes, just small ones. :) We'll have more Emma POVs as we continue the story, but we'll have plenty more Killian POVs as well, rest assured!
Next chapter is already written and will be up very soon! Thanks again to everyone reading and a huge thank you to kk for leaving such kind comments, it means so much, thank you!
~cosette141
Chapter Text
Emma shoved down her panic, the rising feeling that she'd finally, finally, run out of her family's seemingly-endless supply of hope. She shoved that fear down as far as she could, her frantic gaze locked on Killian, fear for him surpassing everything else.
Killian was still lying on the ground at her knees, eyes screwed shut, shaking hard, tears falling down his cheeks, his voice breaking from pain he could no longer handle.
His agony made Emma's eyes burn and Emma felt tears fall down her own cheeks as she hovered over him, hands afraid to touch him.
Wait—
She could use magic now.
Not easily, not much, but she could at least take away some of his pain.
"Killian," Emma choked out, her voice wobbly with tears. "Killian, I can heal something… where does it hurt the most?"
His teeth were clenched so hard, screams and cries still breaking through, she didn't even know if he heard her.
"Killian?" Emma's hands hovered over his writhing form as he curled in on himself, her eyes finding horrible injuries everywhere she looked. God, every time she looked at him she found more. If she could only heal some of his injuries right now, she wanted to start with the worst there was. And it absolutely terrified her that his entire body looked so bad she didn't even know what the worst could be.
It took Killian a moment to crack open his eyes. He snapped his jaw shut, breathing hard. He opened his mouth to reply, a cry slipping through his teeth. Something resembling a sob wracked him, making Emma's heart twist in her chest. But Killian tried again, managing to choke out, "R-Ribs," his voice cutting off into a groan.
Quickly, heart beating fast, Emma unbuttoned his shirt with shaking, fumbling fingers that were slick with Killian's blood. She carefully pulled the material away from his skin, wincing as Killian let out a sharp hiss.
Emma froze.
His entire torso was black and blue.
The bruises ranged in depth of color, some of them looking like he'd been hit over and over and over in the same places. Blood from the wound in his shoulder had streamed heavily down his chest, all the way to his jeans. Hardly any part of his skin wasn't black, blue or crimson.
Emma couldn't breathe.
Killian's gasp snapped her out of it, and Emma swallowed her panic, quickly finding the blackest of the bruises, closest to his lungs. Because god, his breathing sounded absolutely horrible. Every breath he took moved the broken bones of those ribs, and there was no telling if they'd managed to injure his lungs. Emma lightly pressed both palms to the darkest bruise, shutting her eyes, her face crumpling at the keening noise he let out the moment she touched him. Eyes burning, Emma quickly, desperately pulled her magic from deep within. She felt the warmth travel to her palms and fingers, focusing on mending the broken bones beneath the skin. Killian gasped the moment he felt her magic seep into him. Somehow, through the touch of her magic, Emma realized the bones weren't broken; they were shattered. Another hot tear slipped down her cheek.
As she healed it, she felt the pressure—the dark magic in the very air—pushing back against her, acting like a friction. Exhaustion pulled at her, but she fought to push past it. Killian was in agony; she needed to be strong. But it wasn't a clean break and there were so many fractures in the one bone alone.
Emma's eyes fluttered open as she felt the rib piece itself back together, seeing the skin at her fingertips no longer black, and now a light shade of blue.
Killian let out a breath in relief.
It made Emma smile to hear his pain eased, and she sluggishly looked for the next dark bruise, another rib that had to be pressing into his other lung, the culprit of the scraped sound of his breathing.
Emma took a breath, fighting the heavy tiredness from the exertion of her magic, feeling like her body was suddenly twice as heavy. She blinked fast to try to clear the haze, and she pressed her fingers back to his skin, shutting her eyes and concentrating her magic on the bones of the next rib even when the dark magic fought her, like she was trying to put the wrong ends of batteries together.
The moment the bones of the second rib were intact once again, Killian gasped in a breath that finally sounded like a healthy breath, and Emma sat back on her heels, feeling dizzy.
"Better?" she asked, her voice strained. Her eyes fell shut, but she forced them back open.
"Yes," gasped Killian, eyes shut, lines of pain having receded visibly from his face, looking like he was simply revelling in the fact that he could breathe. Though, he was still shaking badly, and looked and sounded like he hasn't slept in weeks. But he was no longer writhing like he had been, in the way Emma would imagine someone reacting to being set on fire, so Emma revelled in that with relief of her own.
Killian's eyes opened—only one really opening—seeing Emma struggle to keep her eyes open, fighting the urge to lay down and sleep, which easily reminded herself of being trapped in Elsa's ice cavern. Killian's good eye widened a fraction at her weakness. "Emma," he whispered, and Emma couldn't help smiling at the sound of his voice; he already sounded so much less ragged. "Love, are you… are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she said. She lifted herself over him again, breathing out to quell the exhaustion that felt like someone laid a heavy, weighted blanket over her. "I can do a little more," she told him, words slow and a little slurred.
"No," said Killian immediately, shaking his head. "Rest," he whispered.
"I will," said Emma, shaking herself, clinging onto reserve energy. "But I can do a little more first. Where do you want me to heal?" He hesitated, like he was about to argue some more, so she said, "Either you pick or I pick."
Despite himself, a smile flicked at his lips, strained though it was. And it made Emma grin too, because he was just starting to look like himself again. She missed that smile. "Stubborn," he whispered through the smile. He blinked, then said, "If you… insist, I'd like to… see you," he said. "Properly."
His eye.
Emma smiled a little. "Close your eyes." He did, and she gently pressed her fingertips to his swollen skin. He gasped a little, making her heart skip painfully. She shut her eyes, pulling her magic forth once again. It was harder this time, like trying to walk through mud. She faltered more than once reaching for the magic, but she finally had a semblance of a hold on it, like she was holding onto slippery rope. Warmth spread from her chest to her fingers once again, easing the inflamed skin over Killian's eye, slowly revealing the left side of his face, unmarring the skin until Emma saw him open his eyes.
Both of them.
He smiled at her, a brilliant smile that warmed her more than her magic did, and he whispered, "Emma." He blinked, that smile growing, like he was happy to blink once again. "Thank you… love," he whispered.
She smiled back, but the grin faltered, her eyes heavy. Everything heavy. She blinked fast, listing to the side, catching herself on the ground beside him. Feeling so, so tired. Her eyes shut for a few seconds.
"Emma!"
"I'm… okay," she said slowly, blinking away the sleepy haze. "Just tired." With effort, she pushed herself back upright, swaying a bit. Trying to shake away the haze, she dazedly looked back at Killian, saying, "I can probably do a little more—"
But his hand grabbed hers, even when it made him wince. "Emma," he said, giving her that look that always went straight through her. "Rest."
"But—"
"I'm all right," he said with a strained smile.
"No, you're not," said Emma, tears suddenly welling up again, unable to tear her eyes away from the blood, the bruises, the way he still shook in a way he couldn't control, the wounds that looked like something tried to rip him apart. "You're not," she said, sniffing, tears building and falling over. "You're… Killian, he—he hurt you so much," she whispered, unable to stop the tears now. "And it's all my fault, I didn't listen to you, and I…" She lifted her eyes to his, seeing absolute heartbreak in those blue eyes as he watched her cry— "Killian," whispered Emma, "I killed you." A sob broke free from her chest, wracking her body.
"Love," said Killian, grunting as he tried to lift himself off the ground. He hissed sharply, his hand pressing to broken ribs Emma hasn't yet healed. Emma slipped gentle hands under his arms and helped to lift him up. In her own weakened state, it took them both a few tries before he was upright.
He was too weak to sit up on his own, and was panting from the simple exertion of getting halfway off the ground. Her own arms shaking from the effort of holding up, Emma gently helped him a few feet across the ground to the cave wall, leaning him against it as carefully as she could. He sucked in a sharp breath when his back touched it—Emma still didn't know what was wrong with his back, and didn't know if she wanted to—but Killian cracked his eyes open. He was shaking harder, breathing shallow even though his breaths were deeper now.
Without hesitation, Killian lifted his right arm, shaking harder with the effort, and gently took her face in his hand, making her look him in the eye. His fingers trembled, only reminding Emma of his weakness and of her own guilt, making her tears burn hotter. "Emma," he said, out of breath, but no less firm. "None of this…" He lost his breath, drawing a shaky one in. "None of this is your fault. And, love, I asked you to… to take my life," he said, wiping her tears with his thumb before letting his arm fall back to his side, like he was too tired to hold it up.
"But it's my fault," whispered Emma, pain and guilt and horror tumbling out. "I didn't listen to you, I just couldn't l-lose you," her breath hiccuped. "I was selfish and I'm so sorry, Killian, I'm—"
"No," said Killian softly, and Emma met his gaze again, seeing a tortured pain in his eyes. "Emma," he said heavily, "you have nothing… to apologize for." And shutting his eyes, he breathed out shallowly, "Emma, I apologize to you. Everything I said… I did, to you of all people—" His voice caught, and Emma was startled to see a tear fall down his own cheek. "I'm so bloody sorry, Emma."
"You saved us," said Emma with a broken smile.
That tortured look only deepened in his eyes. "From me," he said, barely loud enough for her to hear. But quiet as the words were, she heard the guilt. The raw self-loathing. The same horror and sadness that she felt toward herself.
"Killian, I almost killed someone after five minutes of being under that curse," she said sharply, feeling the guilt sink deep under her skin at the memory. "I know how it works. It's not your fault that the darkness used centuries worth of suffering against you," she said firmly, tears burning. He just held her gaze, like he didn't know how she could see it in such a way. Emma sniffed. "You had to fight that pain once already and it took you two hundred years. And I made you have to do it all over again." She shut her eyes. "I should have listened to you," she whispered. "You begged me not to save you and I didn't listen," she shut her eyes, her own guilt and anger with herself flooding her.
His shaky fingers were on her cheek again, making her look at him. "No, love. I should not have died," he said softly, brokenly. "I promised you I... wouldn't."
"I can't lose you too."
"You don't have to worry about me. I'm a survivor."
Emma felt more tears sting, only reminded more that he was dead, and right now… their chances of getting home, her chances of saving him…
Panic and sadness built and built and built.
"I love you," whispered Emma, seeing his eyes widen a little in surprise. Only partly due to her rare use of the words, but there was an almost disbelief in his eyes, like he didn't understand how she could.
He managed to recover from his shock enough to whisper just as quietly, "I love you, Emma," and she searched his eyes, seeing the absolute truth in the words. And she found herself wondering the same thing he did, after everything she's done, how he could still love her. Why he still loved her.
They searched each other's eyes, finding nothing but that raw, pure truth, and Emma felt tears come faster, and she gently wrapped her arms around him, feeling him wrap his around her. Mindful of his injuries, she nestled her head into his less-wounded shoulder, shutting her eyes, having missed his embrace so much.
Killian groaned a little when she accidentally pressed into something that hurt, making her eyes shoot open and she tried to pull back, but he didn't let her. He just held her tighter, pulling her to him in a hold that felt safe, that felt like home.
She shut her eyes again, sinking into his warmth, his scent, him, and never ever wanted to let go.
Notes:
a/n: thanks for reading! :) finally our pirate is getting some comfort! lol - Did it bother anyone else that Emma waited until she and Killian talked with her family before healing him? She could have healed him with an instant, easy wave of her hand the moment they got there - the poor guy was standing there covered in blood and in pain! Hades wasn't the real sadist of this arc; the writers were. xD
My portrayal of Emma in this is a bit different from what Emma was like in the show during these episodes, so I hope you guys don't mind the change. To me I think she was pretty calm and kind of carefree in the show from the moment she saved him, and I feel like she'd be a little more scared of losing him, rattled that he was dead and suffered so much, and that kind of stuff, as well as I feel like she'd feel guilty for the fact that she was the one who had to kill him for something she inadvertently caused etc.. Emma was a mess when she thought Killian was gone for good, so I just expected her to show a little more emotion after they were reunited. I had thought that after Killian dying in her arms, Emma would have been eager to tell him she loved him in almost the first moment they were reunited since she still doesn't even know if they'll be able to save him. Hopefully that moment in this chapter and the Emma portrayal I'm going for reads naturally and in character!
Thanks again to everyone reading, and buckle up for plenty more h/c ;)
~cosette141
Chapter Text
The lash struck again.
The same place.
The same bloody place.
Killian cried out, fighting the chains holding him still.
He blinked open bleary eyes to Hades, standing before him in the throne room. Hades was no longer amused with him. He stood, hands clasped behind his back, face set into a glare.
One of Hades' minions struck Killian with the lash again, and Killian cried out.
Again.
"This isn't quite enough," drawled Hades, dissatisfied.
Killian's vision flickered. When it cleared again, Hades was now wearing a smile, and Killian fear struck his non-existent heart.
Two of Hades' minions now held Emma, struggling between their arms. She was spouting off curse after curse as she fought them, cusses more crass any pirate Killian's ever known, but her struggling was futile.
"Emma," breathed Killian, phantom heart racing. He fought the restraints with everything he had. "Don't you bloody touch her!" he growled, voice rough and ragged.
"I think," said Hades, "we need to try a different tactic, Captain." He snapped his fingers, and the man who had been behind Killian with the lash walked around him, advancing on Emma, who paled.
"Killian," she whispered fearfully. She looked at him, absolute panic in eyes that were filling with tears.
"Emma," he gasped. He jerked harder. "Don't touch her!" He jerked harder. "DON'T TOUCH HER!" he screamed, but his restraints held him fast—the realization that she's the second woman he'll have been unable to protect—and the man with the lash stopped behind Emma, smiling sadistically. "Emma!"
"Killian!" she cried, eyes locked onto his, tears falling down his face. "Killian!"
He fought and fought and fought. Hades just walked to him, each step growing that horrible smile on his face. "I'm going to hurt her," he whispered, stopping in front of his face. "I'm going to make her suffer. Because of you, Captain. She's suffering because of you."
Killian felt his eyes burn.
"Killian!"
Hades turned, and gave a nod to the man with the lash. He reared back.
"EMMA!" screamed Killian.
The man slashed the lash through the air.
"Killian!"
Killian jerked, eyes flying open.
Pain was everywhere.
Emma was in front of him, her face inches from his, her worried eyes searching his. Her hands were on him, one on his less-injured shoulder, one on his newly-healed cheek.
He was breathing hard, and bloody hell it wasn't helping the broken ribs. His eyes screwed shut, and he used every bit of wavering strength not to scream. Everything hurt. Everything hurt. Flinching re-awoke pain he'd forgotten was even there and bloody damn hell it HURT.
But the fear running through him forced his eyes open, his gaze flicked around, seeing the cave, the platform, the ominous glow of the River of Lost Souls lighting the room. Then, back to Emma.
"Killian?" asked Emma shakily. "Are you okay? You passed out, I couldn't… wake you up…" Her voice trailed off, fear bright in her eyes.
It was a dream.
Killian briefly shut his eyes, his mind replaying the dream—the nightmare. It wasn't real. Emma wasn't hurt.
He let out a shaky breath.
The memories sluggishly came back to him.
Nearly having fallen victim to the River.
Emma catching him, saving him.
Then…
Hades.
He and Emma were trapped.
Emma.
"You get to watch your beloved savior die."
Killian felt his eyes burn.
She was going to die here.
She was going to die, she was never going to see her family again, because of him.
"Killian?"
Emma's voice was frantic now, her hand on his cheek trembling a little.
Killian opened his eyes.
Her eyes searched his. "Are you okay?" she breathed.
He went to nod shortly—the move reflexive, because no part of him was okay—not daring to speak, barely keeping a lid on the pain. But even the little movement made his head pound. His vision flickered. Bloody hell. His adrenaline was gone. He clawed desperately onto consciousness. He would not leave Emma here alone.
Emma seemed to understand what was happening. Her voice took a more frantic tone. "Killian? Killian, stay with me," she said quickly. "I have some energy back, I can heal something... What do you want me to heal?"
Everything.
Gods, everything.
Everything already hurt before Hades' latest attack, but that… when Hades dropped him to the ground… something had just…
Snapped.
The last bit of his strength, the last of his flimsy hold on the pain had severed.
Killian could hardly relive the memory of that feeling.
It was finally a kind of agony he couldn't manage. And why unconsciousness hadn't come, he'd never understand. The limits this body of his had was so different from when he was alive. But the moment Emma had healed the ribs had felt like cool water over a burning fire. And finally, he could breathe, every breath no longer a white-hot dagger to his chest.
He could still feel a fire in his torso, more ribs that were still broken, but at least they weren't pressing on-or into-his lungs. Something in his chest hurt with every breath, and he was afraid of what could be broken there. Though it was far less painful than the ribs Emma had healed, and he tried to revel in being free of that at the very least. The shoulder wound burned and scraped from the touch of the very air. His head pounded and he felt inexplicably weak. But it was his leg that still hurt just as much as everything else combined. It scared him that he didn't exactly know which injury hurt worse.
However, he didn't regret having Emma heal his left eye earlier as opposed to something that hurt more. Not seeing her properly had hurt plenty.
"Killian?!"
Emma's panic made him open his eyes, making him wonder when he closed them. Gods, he was so bloody tired.
They shut again.
"Hook," stressed Emma. She sounded scared. The use of his moniker surprised him, making his eyes open. He could see a little, shaky smile on her face when she saw she had his attention. "That's it," she said quickly, panic still in her voice. "Tell me what to heal," she whispered breathlessly.
"L-leg," he rasped, finally getting his voice to work. It was still rough from what felt like months of screaming. The limb in question made him want to physically chop the bloody thing off, though from experience, he knew that only brought a different kind of pain.
He didn't know he closed his eyes again until they flew open the moment she touched his knee.
Killian couldn't help the cry, jerking when her fingers touched the destroyed joint. Her feather-light touch hurt nearly as much as when Hades broke the damn thing, and he breathed hard, clenching his teeth, trying not to pass out.
Somewhere beyond the pounding in his head, he heard her talking to him, whispering something, something sweet and soft, even when her voice shook.
But as quickly as the fire built in his knee, something that felt like cool water seeped into his skin, settling between every break and fracture in the bones. Emma's magic. It felt like water on a wildfire, everything her magic touched turning the sharp, hot agony into cool relief. His eyes shut, this time out of bliss, and he felt himself breathe out, relishing in it.
Killian felt Emma's fingers suddenly touching his ankle next, making him gasp sharply, the fire reigniting, making him claw the fingers of his right hand into the ground. But just as quickly, he felt the coolness of her magic begin to heal it. Gods, her magic felt like heaven. It moved slower than it had with his knee, and dazedly he realized it was Emma's energy that was running low.
But only a moment later, the fire was doused.
Relief.
Tears sprung to his eyes.
He'd forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank… you," he whispered, opening his eyes. He was still exhausted as all hell, his upper body burning a fire almost as hot as his leg had been, but he was free of the worst of the wretched suffering and he was going to relish in it.
When he saw Emma, his attempt at a grin faltered. She was staring at his now-healed leg, tears in her eyes.
"Love?" whispered Killian, voice so tired it was barely audible.
"Your leg wasn't broken, Killian," she whispered, looking at him, absolute heartbreak in her eyes. "It was like the bones were… were crushed," her voice broke.
That explains why it hurt like the bloody devil.
Emma reached for his hand, taking it in hers. It made him gasp when it stung, and she turned it over to see the burn from the cell bar in his palm. "What..?" she whispered, eyes even more tortured.
Killian tiredly shook his head. Emma was scared enough, she didn't need to know everything. Hell, Killian wanted to forget everything. "It's… not important," he whispered.
"Like hell it's not," she said, her voice wobbly with tears again, and dammit, Killian couldn't stand seeing her cry. She hovered her hand over his palm, a faint glow emanating from her fingers, but it fizzled out before reaching his skin. She swayed, making Killian's eyes widen.
"Emma?" he asked suddenly, the thinnest thread of adrenaline jumping into him.
She caught her balance, blinking slow. She breathed out sharply, frustrated. "I can't heal anything else right now," she explained, eyes shutting. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's all right," said Killian, meaning it. "You've done the… worst of it," his voice dropped a little, feeling the horrible sharp pain at his back and in his abdomen, the very air scraping the shoulder wound—but his leg had still been the worst, and he was grateful to be free of that pain. It was a little frightening that he could still hurt this much, yet the worst of it was gone. He still shook, and at this point he didn't know if it was from the pain or how bloody exhausted he was.
Emma didn't say anything, just looked from the wound on his hand to where his shirt still hung open, eyes raking over every injury, her face growing more tortured the more she looked. For the first time in his life, Killian Jones felt insecure under a woman's gaze. He prided himself on his appearance, but if he looked as bad as he felt…
Trying to get that horrible, haunted look out of her eyes, Killian tried, "He hasn't knocked the handsome out of me… has he?"
His comment did its job, making Emma smile a watery smile, and she cupped his face again, thumb brushing across the newly healed skin, one of the only places of him that wasn't bruised or bloody, and she said, "Nobody's that powerful."
It made him smile too, closing his eyes to the feel of her touch on his skin. He lifted his own hand, laying it over hers, his own thumb stroking the back of her hand. He slid his hand down to her wrist, having missed her so damn much. Through their touch, he could feel her pulse under his fingers.
Her pulse.
His smile faltered, and he opened his eyes, his thumb resting over her pulse, feeling her heart. Killian shut his eyes. "I wish you hadn't come for me," he whispered, his voice broken and scarred.
Her face fell. "What do you mean?" she asked in a small voice.
Killian took her hand from his face, holding it in his, even when it made the burn wound sting. His thumb still rested over her pulse, feeling it race a little faster. "You shouldn't be trapped here, love," he said, the words painful. Tears returned to his own eyes. "You should be with your family."
"I am," she said, and Killian opened his eyes, seeing tears in her eyes and a smile at her lips, and warmth he hasn't felt in ages flooded his broken chest. He couldn't fathom a response.
"It's you and me, Killian." said Emma firmly, that brilliant smile of hers nearly melting away his pain. "I love you," she said, her smile growing, like she was happy to say the words, no longer hiding them behind walls of steel. "I refuse to live a life without you."
Killian blinked, absolutely touched.
Overcome.
But the guilt and the fear clawing at him overrode it all. "Emma—"
"Killian," said Emma firmly, "you've done so much for me. You helped us find Henry even when it meant you had to return to a place that scared the crap out of you. You outran a curse to find me in a place you knew nothing about—and I still don't know how you did it," she said, stressing it like she still couldn't believe it. "You followed me into that time portal when you didn't have to, you saved me again and again and again, and I still don't know why you chose me." A tear rolled down her cheek. "You deserve someone to follow you to the ends of every realm, transcending life and death and everything in between." She smiled something equally broken and whole. "I'd follow you anywhere."
"I'd go to the end of the world for her. Or time."
Killian blinked, his eyes burning.
Absolutely struck speechless.
When he still couldn't find his voice, Emma went on, "I knew the risks of coming after you and I regret nothing." She smiled, tears shining in her eyes. "We will get out of here. I'm not sure if you've heard, but hope runs in my family, and I never give up. Someone once told me I have yet to fail… and I intend to keep it that way."
"You will get your son back."
"You think so?"
"I've yet to see you fail."
Killian couldn't help a smile, even when a tear slipped down his cheek. "I love you," he whispered.
And, slowly, Emma leaned over and kissed him, her lips gentle and light. His eyes shut, something deep inside him suddenly feeling whole again.
Months.
He hasn't felt that kiss in months.
Emma pulled back, and he opened his eyes to see her smile.
Gods, he loved seeing her smile.
He let out a breath. He may not forgive himself, might not be sure if he ever could, but he was going to get Emma home somehow. He wouldn't rest until he did. But it would help if he wasn't so bloody tired, actively fighting the dark ebbing at the edges of his vision.
He watched Emma shut her eyes, rubbing her temple, looking almost as exhausted as he felt.
Worry of his own in his voice, he asked, "Love?"
But she opened her eyes, smiling tiredly at him, saying, "Only you would be sitting there covered in blood and be worried that I'm okay," she said, her voice trying to sound light but only coming out shaky. "I'm just a little drained," she said with a reassuring smile. "You don't have to keep worrying about me."
But he did.
It reminded him of just how much he did.
"Emma," he said suddenly. "Do you know how long you… have?" He had no idea how time worked down here, and he didn't even know living souls could visit the Underworld, let alone his long they could survive here.
Emma bit her lip. "I don't know. Gold told us that time moves slower here. But he didn't tell us how slow..."
The Crocodile.
A fragment of the conversation Emma had with Hades, that he'd been semi-lucid for, slipped into his mind.
Both of them mentioned the Crocodile.
Killian's phantom heart picked up in speed.
Why was he suddenly getting a terrible feeling about this?
"Emma," he said carefully, "how did you get here?"
"Gold," she said, though the moment the name was out of her mouth, her eyes widened a fraction and she looked instantly like she felt she shouldn't have said it.
Killian went still. He'd heard her mention Rumplestiltskin earlier, but not that he had gotten them here. And if he did… that meant…
"Emma," he said, voice low and absolutely tortured, "how did the Crocodile get you here?"
Emma winced, and Killian felt his blood run cold.
"He…" Emma shut her eyes, looking like she hated the words. "He found a way to take all the power you tried to destroy and now it's all…" Her eyes cautiously found Killian's stricken ones- "...his."
His sacrifice.
His bloody sacrifice.
His eyes shut. "Bloody demon," he hissed.
Emma's hand was on his arm, saying quickly, "I know, I know," she whispered, voice pained. "God, Killian, I hate him so much. But he helped me get to you," she breathed, eyes shutting. "It's the only reason I haven't thought about pulverizing the bastard." When he still didn't open his eyes, her grip on him tightened a little, but her fingers were still lacking strength. "But it doesn't take away the fact that you did save us. And what you tried to do… it was… heroic."
Tried.
Never has a word hurt him so deeply.
With great, great, effort, Killian shoved aside his hatred for the Crocodile, knowing that going down that road never, ever ended up well, and just tried to selfishly relish in the fact that Emma did find her way to him somehow.
But he was suddenly reminded of something else she and Hades had mentioned.
Someone else, who had helped her find him.
"Milah," he breathed, his eyes opening. He looked at Emma, seeing something in her eyes change. "You said… Milah…" His voice wouldn't work.
Emma smiled sadly. She nodded. "To get down here… Gold had to use a soul's dead aura so that we could pass through to get to you." Her sad smile grew a little. "He found Milah. She wanted to help you." Emma's hand on his arm tightened a little, but Killian felt nearly numb. "I could tell how much… how much she loved you," she whispered.
Killian felt his eyes burn.
Milah had been here.
All this time.
She had been here.
Trapped under Hades' reign.
Killed because of him, and now damned because of him.
And now she would never find peace.
Emma's hand found his cheek again. His eyes opened. "She asked about your life," she said, a broken smile tugging at her lips. "She was happy you were happy. She loved you, Killian," said Emma, tears in her eyes, and Killian felt emotions start to overwhelm him. "And as someone who loves you," said Emma, smiling softly, "I know that if anything happened to me," her voice caught, but she kept on- "I wouldn't blame you for a damn thing. Ever. And the only thing that would hurt me would be to know that you weren't happy after I was gone. I know she feels the same. She wanted you to be happy. She wanted to save you, Killian." She smiled sadly. "We have to get you out of here so her… so her death wasn't in vain."
Killian breathed out as emotional pain that was somehow more agonizing than all the physical pain built and built into something that just hurt.
And suddenly, Emma's arms were around him, gentle and tender, and he allowed the tears to fall, letting the sob wrack his chest even when it made every injury hurt worse.
And he cried, for the love he lost, the love he spent over two hundred years failing to avenge who would now never, ever be at peace.
And for the fear that the same fate would befall the very woman in his arms.
Chapter Text
Emma didn't know how long she held him, as tightly as she dared, feeling like she was holding together broken glass that was one breeze away from shattering completely.
It felt like everything Killian had held together, every bit of strength he'd clung to while trapped down here left him in one instant, and Emma was only glad she was with him, that he didn't have to break alone.
Hearing him cry tore her own heart to shreds, only making her hold him tighter. A hot tear slipped past her lashes, joined by a second, and a third until they were falling down her face. He's suffered so much, and not only physically—what happened to Milah still making Emma's heart twist, for imagining that fate befalling Neal was something that made her feel sick. Knowing Neal was in a better place, was happy, had lifted the heaviest weight off her shoulders. She had no idea what Killian was feeling right now, and worse, she had no idea how to make it better.
He'd fallen quiet ages ago, long before the tear tracks dried on her own face, and Emma suddenly worried he lost consciousness again.
Through their embrace, she could feel it all too well. The quietness in his chest.
Emma's heart raced in response.
Emma's gaze caught on the crimson stains on his skin from where she lay gently on his shoulder, seeing both fresh and dried blood coating so much of his skin. Her eyes traitorously traced his injuries again, ones that looked like he'd been beaten with fists or worse to wounds she couldn't even fathom how he'd gotten… The burn on his palm that was nasty and swollen, the open wounds in his shoulder and chest, whatever was wrong with his back that made the little color still in his face drain away when anything merely touched it—
Emma desperately wanted to both know what exactly Killian went through here... and never, ever have to find out.
The fact that he had suffered alone, not knowing that Emma was coming, that she was trying to save him…
It made her feel sick.
And even though she did get to him in time to save him from the River, she didn't get to him fast enough at all. He had been tortured. For no other reason than pure sadism. Hurt past his limits, so horribly, so barbarically…
Emma's eyes burned, wishing for a time portal more than anything else in the entire world.
Emma let out a shaky breath, opening her eyes.
She needed to get him out of here.
Milah's fate only added to the incredibly long list of motivation to get Killian the hell out of Hell. Killian had brought up something she hadn't thought of, which was that she had no idea how long she could last down here.
They needed to find a way out now.
Emma pushed away all traces of doubt. She clung onto hope like the lifeline it was. They'd done impossible things before. They could—and would—do them again.
She just wished that her conviction didn't shake as much as Killian still did.
Her energy was very, very slowly recharging as she rested. She felt the strong pull to sleep but she didn't acquiesce. As much as she knew her resting would benefit them both, the fear of leaving Killian vulnerable was too terrifying. She needed to be ready for anything. Already, she was terrified that Killian would simply vanish from her arms.
She'd sleep when they were home.
But she did let herself rest, enough until the need to sleep wasn't as strong, and her body felt less like concrete.
Emma shifted, tearing her gaze from Killian to the cave.
It was time to find their way home.
The room held so many shadows, making it even more ominous. The River hissed and cast a green hue in the room. Emma hesitated her gaze on the wall where the entrance had been, before Hades had sealed it. Already she knew with a sinking heart that even at full power, she didn't have the kind of strength to blast through it. And there was no telling what kind of dark magic Hades used to create it. For one of the first times in her life, Emma wished for Regina.
The thought made her think of her family, of her parents and Henry, wondering where they were. By now they had to realize something had gone wrong. Emma had no idea how long it would take her and Killian to find a way out. If they took too long… would her parents leave? Something inside her knew they wouldn't, which only made her urgency in finding a way out fast burn hotter. If they tried to come after her, nothing was stopping Hades from trying to hurt them as well. New fear built within her.
Emma shook herself. Focus.
Tearing her eyes from the once-exit, Emma followed the cave walls, nothing but dirt and walls and the ominous green glow, until—
Her heart skipped.
There, hidden in the shadows, was a different cave opening that led into a tunnel.
An exit.
Her hope waned as quickly as it came, however, remembering Hades' words:
"I think being a mindless soul is too good for you, Captain. So, I'm going to leave you here, trapped in the underground caves with no way out."
Hades left this tunnel open, and that meant he believed there was no way out, intending for his captives to wander for all eternity. And as much as Emma hated it, if Hades said there was no way out, she was inclined to believe him. He's as infuriatingly brilliant as he is sadistic and evil, and he's already proven more than once that he's several steps ahead of her and everyone else.
Except…
He didn't know she was the product of True Love, and he didn't expect to be unable to touch or hurt her.
Emma smiled faintly.
He was not all-powerful.
There had to be a weakness in these caves somewhere, and she was going to find it.
"Killian?" said Emma. Neither of them had spoken in a long while, and except for a few hitched breaths from him every few minutes, he hadn't moved, apart from the trembles that still wracked him.
But to her surprise, and relief, she heard him respond.
"Aye… love?"
Emma's heart twisted.
He sounded so tired.
His voice was barely audible; she wouldn't have heard him if they weren't as close as they were.
Slowly, Emma pulled away from him, untangling herself from the slack grip of his arms.
His eyes were half-open, and every few seconds they fell closed before he seemed to force them open again. He looked like he was doing everything in his power to stay awake.
"I…" said Emma, concern for him building sharply. "I think I found a way out of here."
Emma's worry only heightened when Killian didn't react to her words, his eyes shutting and his head dipping toward his shoulder.
Worry spiking her heart, Emma cupped the healed side of his face with urgent fingers, shaking him a little until his eyes opened. "Killian, hey, don't fall asleep," she said, a touch of fear in her voice. "I found a way out of here, we… we need to leave..."
Killian blinked long and slow, seeming to be several steps behind. Emma didn't think he could have looked any weaker than he had when she saved him from the chains.
He needed rest; the adrenaline he'd been running on all this time was more than gone. Emma had no idea how much rest he had even been allowed while he was Hades' prisoner, or if he'd managed any sleep at all. If only by the sound of his voice, he sounded like he hadn't slept in months. He needed rest, and badly.
But they needed to get out of here and find a way back to her family now, before her own time ran out. As much as she wanted to grant Killian the rest he so desperately needed, she tried to think about how easily she'll be able to heal him once they were free.
But after a moment, Killian seemed to register her words, just enough to follow the conversation, if horribly delayed. "You… have?" he whispered. His pain-glazed eyes dazedly looked over her shoulder, like he was looking for it.
Emma smiled, glad to have his attention, and said quickly before she lost him again, "I did, it's another tunnel." She bit her lip. "But…"
"But," Killian finished, shutting his eyes, making Emma's heart skip, "Hades… isn't daft enough to leave a… way out," he whispered, opening his eyes with visible effort.
"No," agreed Emma. But with a little grin, she said, "But he considers this a trap for people without light magic. I know we can find a weakness in there somewhere."
A lazy, tired smile flicked the corners of Killian's lips. "If anyone can, it's… you, love," he said quietly.
His eyes fell shut again.
"Hey," said Emma quickly, brushing her thumb over the newly-healed skin of his face, her fingers shaking with her fear. "I know you're tired," she said, the words tortured, her heart hurting at the notion of making him push himself more than he already has, "but I don't have enough energy to poof us over there and…"
It took him a moment, but Killian blinked his eyes open again. He nodded shortly, wordlessly confirming he understood what she was asking. "M-Might need help…. standing," he admitted quietly.
Emma got to her knees, putting one hand under both of his arms, keeping her touch feather-light. She still hasn't healed even half of his broken ribs, and Emma was worried waking any pain would be too much for him to consciously handle. Her own energy was still far too low to heal anything and help him walk. She let out a breath, willing herself to be as gentle as possible.
Killian, very slowly, bent his left knee. He winced, but opened his eyes to look at it, releasing a breath. A hint of a smile touched his lips, like he was happy to move the limb without pain.
"Is your leg okay?" asked Emma nervously.
"Aye," he whispered. "You're… bloody brilliant," he said with another grin toward her.
Emma smiled, glad he was eased pain. "Okay," she said, taking a breath. "Ready?"
Killian shut his eyes like he was bracing himself, but he nodded, and together, they stood.
Emma held him as tightly as she could without pressing too hard, lifting him away from the wall, mindful that he had some terrible injury in his back. Killian managed to push off the ground to help, but Emma was still holding more than half of his weight. His jaw snapped shut, a deep groan slipping through his clenched teeth, making Emma's heart twist. Halfway off the ground, Killian managed to get his feet under him, but Emma could feel how unsteady he was. By the time he was standing, he was shaking harder and desperately holding back a cry of pain. He swayed badly, but Emma kept him upright. It terrified her to realize if she wasn't there, he wouldn't have even been able to sit up on his own.
Emma wrapped one arm carefully around him, keeping it as close to his waist as she could. She used her other to pull his left arm around her shoulders, holding tight to his forearm, and his fingers wrapped tight around her shoulder in a death grip.
"You okay?" she asked nervously.
He was panting, his balance still very off, but he managed a nod. And to her utter shock, she heard him gasp, "D-Don't let go."
The amount of fear in those words reminded her of that horribly agonized scream he'd cried out when Hades had dropped him to the ground that she knew would haunt her dreams for years to come.
Emma felt a million emotions squeeze her chest and she only held him tighter, saying, "I won't. I've got you, Killian, I promise."
He cracked his eyes open, the blue in them bright with pain and fear and exhaustion. But shining brightly through all of it was pure, raw trust. He gave her an incredibly strained smile.
Holding him tight to her, Emma said, "Ready?"
He didn't look ready. Hell, he looked exhausted. But his eyes shut, jaw clenched tight like he was bracing himself, and he nodded.
Together, they took a step. Killian grunted; keeping him upright meant she had a hard grip around broken bones. Emma loosened her hold as much as she dared to, and they took another step.
Their pace was incredibly slow. Killian stumbled a few times on the way there, making Emma grab him tighter, each time making him groan. By the third time, she felt his weight increase in her hold, like he was close to collapsing. "Hey," she said quickly, holding him tighter to her. "We're almost there, Killian, hold on…"
He managed to find his footing again, blinking open his eyes, and they kept on, approaching the entrance to the tunnel. They stopped.
Torches lit the tunnel all the way through, and it looked like it went on forever. With a sinking feeling, Emma really hoped that wasn't the case.
Taking a breath, they started inside.
Emma's eyes flicked around as they started down the tunnel, looking for some sort of weakness, some crack in a wall, some shine of daylight, something, but so far it looked like every other cave in this place. She sighed and kept on.
Not twenty paces into the tunnel, the ground began to shake.
"What the hell?" breathed Emma as the shaking increased. She felt Killian's precarious balance falter, and he started to fall, but she caught him fast, stumbling and reflexively wrapping her other arm around him to keep him from falling…
...momentarily forgetting about his back.
Killian cried out the moment her arm touched him, his cry cut into a groan, and then suddenly all of his weight fell into her. He collapsed, and she desperately tried to keep him upright, her heart pounding as the ground continued to shake harder. She lost her balance, unable to hold all of his weight and she fell back, doing her best to control the fall, to cushion the impact for him. She buried her head in his shoulder, her back pressing hard into the wall behind her, hugging Killian protectively to her chest as the world continued to shake violently, praying, praying, that this wasn't the end.
But just as quickly as it started, the shaking stopped.
Silence.
Slowly, Emma opened her eyes, lifting her head from Killian's shoulder. "Killian?" she whispered shakily.
He didn't respond.
One look at his face told her he was finally unconscious.
Heart still hammering, Emma looked back to the tunnel, wondering what the hell caused the earthquake, and when she turned her head back the way they'd come, she saw it. Her heart skipped.
The entrance they'd just come through was now sealed shut.
A solid cave wall stood in its place, blocking off their way back.
Emma stared at it for a moment, wondering what the hell the point of closing it was—it wasn't as if it was a way out—but she focused back on Killian, fear making her heart beat even faster.
He was absolute dead weight in her arms. She shook him a little. "Killian?!"
He didn't move.
Carefully, Emma turned him to lean him gently against the wall.
He still didn't move, his head having fallen to his shoulder.
"Killian?"
He didn't respond, even after repeating his name and shaking him.
"Killian," she said louder, her voice cracking.
He remained still.
Emma suddenly felt very, very alone.
She sat back on her heels nervously. Emma bit her lip, looking down toward the never-ending expanse of tunnel. There was no way she could carry Killian. She was just going to have to wait until he woke for them to continue on.
Emma shut her eyes, trying to quell the rising panic, wondering what to do. She breathed slow to try to calm down, and felt the little warmth in her chest—the little magic she had. Her eyes opened, and she looked back at Killian.
Something she could do.
She gently moved his shirt aside again, eyeing the array of bruising on his torso. Shutting her eyes, she pressed her hands to a dark bruise, closest to where she holds him to help him walk.
Emma managed to heal two of his ribs before she blinked heavy, her balance swaying with her own exhaustion. She stopped working on the next rib, letting herself rest before she fell over, laying against Killian, shutting her eyes, only for a moment. Unable to help herself, she pressed her hand back to the rib she was working on, pulling forth her magic again.
It was half-healed when her hand slipped from his chest, unconsciousness pulling her down as she used the very last of her strength.
Her last thought before it took her was of Killian, of how much she had missed falling asleep beside him, and of how much more she missed feeling the steady beat of his heart inside his chest.
Chapter Text
Emma woke abruptly, her eyes snapping open.
Killian was breathing shallowly, gasping like he was in pain.
Instantly awake, Emma shot up, eyes snapping to his face. His eyes were still shut, face drained of all color. He was still asleep.
Even in sleep, his face was pulled into a wince, his jaw clenched, and every muscle in his body was rigid, shaking with strain.
Emma touched the healed side of his face in an attempt to rouse him from whatever nightmare he was suffering. "Killian?" she said gently.
The moment she touched him, he recoiled. He flinched away from her touch, curling instinctively in on himself with a groan, a reaction Emma painfully recognized from some of the worst foster homes. It was a reflex that came from being woken violently many, many times.
"Stop," he gasped. "Please."
The absolute pleading in his voice was so small, so scared that Emma felt herself lose her breath.
Her chest hurting, Emma shook him gently. "Killian," she tried, but he either didn't hear her or she didn't break through his haze. He gasped again, a strangled noise escaping his throat. "Killian!" said Emma, louder. "Killian, wake up! Hook!"
For the second time, his moniker grabbed his attention. His eyes shot open, and like a shard of ice in Emma's heart, Killian instantly flinched away from her like he expected to be hit.
Her chest tightening at his reflex, Emma quickly whispered, "Hey, it's okay. You're safe. It's just me."
Killian cautiously looked at her, then around the room. Relief, quickly followed by confusion, flickered through his eyes. His gaze settled back on her.
"Are you okay?" asked Emma hesitantly, still feeling him tremble beneath her touch.
He shut his eyes for a moment, catching his breath. When he opened them, Emma was relieved to see the blue more vivid, his eyes brighter with far more awareness than he'd had the last time he'd been conscious. Though more lucid, he looked incredibly disoriented. "Emma?" he whispered, eyes shutting with a wince, as if through a headache. "I don't…" He blinked his eyes open again, giving the tunnel a confused look. "Where..?" he trailed off.
A little concerned that he didn't remember, Emma's brows creased. "I saw a tunnel that led out of the room we were in. We're in it now. You... were pretty out of it when we got here," she said quietly, trying not to let onto how much it had scared her.
He shut his eyes again, like he was trying to will the memories. But not a moment later his eyes shot open. His eyes widened a fraction, snapping to hers. "Something happened—the ground…" His brows kneaded as he tried to force the memories.
Emma nodded, biting her lip. "The opening we came through sealed shut and it was pretty… violent. You passed out when I caught you," she said, biting her lip, guilt in the words for having caused him more pain, even if it was in an attempt to prevent it.
Killian turned his head, eyeing the solid wall that blocked the way they came.
"I don't get why Hades bothered," muttered Emma, following his gaze. "It's not like there was a way out in there."
But something darkened in Killian's eyes. "There is… of sorts," he said quietly.
It took Emma a moment to understand what he was implying. Her brows shot up. "You really think Hades thought we would turn back and willingly jump into the River?!"
"I don't think it was personal to us," said Killian. "Hades wants his victims here to be consciously lost," he said quietly. "The River is an escape from that. The opening probably seals after everyone who passes through." A hollow look passed through his eyes. "An eternity spent lost and unable to escape is enough to drive one mad. I'd only been trapped down here for so long and… there were moments…" He shut his eyes.
Emma squeezed his hand lightly, her heart twisting painfully in her chest, hearing his panicked voice as he endured his nightmare echo in her head. "We're going to get out of here, Killian." she said firmly, trying to keep her confidence from wavering. "We just have to find it." She sat back on her heels, hating the way he still shook, how weak he still was. Hating that she could see more dried blood than his own skin. She bit her lip as he winced, his hand on his ribs. "I can try to heal something first…"
Killian shut his eyes and shook his head. "Conserve your energy, love," he whispered with a strained grin. "I'll be all right. You've done the worst of it."
Emma didn't feel as confident about that. The fact that he felt that the worst of it was already healed and he still looked as ragged as he did only made her feel sicker and sicker. Though awake, Killian's kept his eyes shut through most of their exchange, and his face was set into a permanent grimace like he was trying to manage pain. As much as Emma wanted to help him, she knew he was right; they had no idea if there were any more traps in here, and the moment she happened upon a weakness in these caves, she needed to be ready to take advantage of it. She was still battling the dark magic in the air as it was. Her magic needed to be as strong as it could be. The quicker they got out of here, the quicker she could heal him properly.
Speaking of her magic, Emma felt better since having slept; it finally felt like she didn't have to actively try to keep her eyes open, and it didn't feel like she weighed three times her own weight. She was still tired, and with a tiny spurt of fear, thirsty, but she shoved that fear very far down. Her magic felt a little rejuvenated, even if it still wasn't anywhere near her full strength. She could, and would, get them out of here.
Emma got to her knees, preparing to help him up. "Ready?" she asked hesitantly.
It took him a moment to open his eyes, and she could see the pain and fatigue in them. But he was lucid, and for that Emma was relieved.
Killian nodded shortly, lifting himself gingerly away from the wall, hissing as his back left it, making Emma worry once again about what was wrong with his back. Killian raised his left arm to the wall for support, but he faltered, like he misjudged the distance. Emma caught him quick before his back could hit the wall.
"Bloody—" Killian cracked his eyes open, giving her a grateful look for preventing what would have inevitably hurt, and he looked at his left arm with an unreadable expression.
In an instant, Emma realized he forgot he didn't have his hook.
And, she remembered who did.
"Hang on," she said, releasing him with one hand to reach in her jacket. With a tentative smile, she pulled out his hook. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I forgot I had it..."
A faint smile touched Killian's lips when he saw it, a look in his eyes like he didn't think he'd ever see it again.
Emma didn't want to voice that when she saw it in Hades' possession, the first thought that had hit her was that she'd never see Killian again.
"Let's get this back where it belongs," said Emma with a little smile, and Killian returned it, lifting his left arm for her to click his hook back into place.
Once it was, Killian lightly brushed her cheek with the metal, and Emma tried not to think about how he still trembled from such a simple movement. "Thank you, love."
Emma smiled. Releasing a breath, she said, "Ready?"
Killian nodded, a little of his wince back in his face as he braced himself to move. He dug his hook into the wall of the cave for support, and offered Emma his right arm. She pulled it carefully around her shoulders and, together, they stood.
Now that Emma had healed more of his ribs, she had a place to hold him that didn't make him hiss. He stood easier than last time, though it was in part due to the fact that he was far more lucid now than he had been the last time they stood. Rest had done him plenty of good, and Emma was more than relieved. But he still looked dead on his feet, and Emma tried very hard not to think about how true the statement actually was.
Standing made his trembling worse, and he swayed a bit when he got to his feet, but he was still holding more of his own weight than before. Emma was keeping him steady more than holding him up now, and that was progress.
But she didn't have to ask him to know that if she wasn't there, he wouldn't have been able to stand on his own.
She held him a little tighter.
"You okay?" she asked, seeing his eyes screwed shut, face in a grimace of pain. The little color that was in his face before was gone now. After a few breaths, he opened his eyes, looking ahead of them, to where the tunnel seemed to go on endlessly. "That… looks promising," he commented, doubt clouding the blue in his eyes.
Emma felt the same doubt, but she shoved it as far down as she could. "No more so than the beanstalk."
That made him laugh shortly, even when the laugh resulted in a wince. "Touché, Swan." But she felt him hold her a little tighter, only seeming to remind both of them how far they've come.
Together, they took a breath, and started down the tunnel.
Emma's fear from before, that the tunnel went on forever, was becoming increasingly more worrisome the more they walked. The tunnel never changed direction; it just kept straight on ahead, torches still lighting the cave every few yards.
But nothing even remotely resembling a weakness caught her eye. Everything looked the same.
She tried to quell the rising panic that Hades was simply right.
Emma had no sense of time other than the strain of Killian's grip around her shoulders, which she was sure was leaving a mighty bruise. His steps were slow and halting, and with a tight chest, Emma could tell how hard he was trying not to voice his pain. She'd healed the bones in his left leg, but it was bound to still be stiff and sore, and she'd only managed to heal half his ribs so far. And those were only the worst of what he was feeling.
They had to take a break every (what felt like an) hour or so. Killian was trying, but it was clear that his body was more than shot, and he was unbelievably exhausted. His grip became tighter on her the longer they walked, his limping worse and his breathing more labored than when they started. His fight to keep his pain silent was an uphill battle, and every time he made a noise Emma felt her heart twist.
It had to be hours since they started walking. Emma threw a look over her shoulder; she couldn't even see the blocked-off opening they came through anymore. At the very least, she knew they were making progress, but the tunnel ahead of them still seemed to go on and on and on. That panic she tried to shove down was fighting to come back up, because what if this was all there was? What if this was what Hades wanted? To trap souls in a never-ending tunnel?
But even as the doubt crawled up her spine and broke through her thoughts, she heard a voice that sounded startlingly like her mother's tell her to keep going, to hope.
So, she did, and on they went.
Killian's walking was getting increasingly worse, and Emma was about to suggest they take another break when she saw something ahead.
She squinted, but it wasn't a trick of the light, or her own desperate hope.
"Killian," she whispered breathlessly.
He heavily lifted his head, panting now, and he looked at her sharply. Emma pointed with her free hand ahead of them, and he followed her gaze.
Not a hundred yards ahead of them, the tunnel split into four different directions.
She and Killian exchanged a look, and without a word, they started walking again.
When they approached it, they stopped. Killian heaved out an audible sigh of relief at the momentary rest. Emma gave each new path a wary glance.
They all looked the same as one another, and just as endless as the original tunnel felt.
Emma sighed, doubt creeping in, understanding perfectly how Hades intended them to feel like lost souls. The caves were a damn maze. "Any idea which way to go?" she asked Killian, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. They only had so much time; if they picked a dead end, or they ended up lost forever—
What if there was no path that led to a way out of here, no weakness she could exploit?
The Mary Margaret voice in her head spoke up again. There is always hope.
"Afraid I don't," he said tiredly. He swayed a little now that they were stationary and Emma had to shift her hold to steady him. God, he looked exhausted.
Emma eyed all four paths, biting her lip. "You want to decide?"
"I trust you," he said quietly.
Emma lifted her brows. That makes one of us. "Rock, paper, scissors?" she asked shakily.
"What?"
"Nevermind." Emma shut her eyes. She sighed. She looked from one option to the next.
Her instincts in life had always had her back, always pointed her in the right direction. For the longest time, her gut was the only thing she could trust. She desperately hoped she could trust it now.
So, Emma took a breath, and tried to feel where her instinct was pointing her.
She blinked.
It felt like it was screaming at her to go to the left-most path.
Her instinct had never been so… strong.
Deciding to take it as a sign, and praying it wouldn't lead her astray, she said, "Let's go this way."
Without hesitation, Killian nodded and they started down the new path.
After what felt like another hour of walking, they could see the end of this tunnel, leading to another choice, this time just left or right. And she followed the—surprisingly vocal—instinct inside her, like it was pulling her in a specific direction every time they needed to make a new choice in direction. Emma didn't like playing such a chance game over and over, but… her instinct seemed very sure of itself.
Even so, Emma was feeling more and more lost the longer they walked and the deeper they went, and suddenly understood what Killian meant about the River of Lost Souls being an escape from such a fate as this.
But that instinct, that hope seemed to flare in her chest, begging her to hold onto it.
And the more they walked, the more that instinct, that hope grew warmer. Stronger.
Emma froze, and Killian nearly fell over at her sudden stop.
"Emma?" he asked worriedly.
Emma hardly heard him.
Because it wasn't hope that was growing stronger.
It wasn't even intuition.
It was her magic.
She could feel it now, wondering how she hadn't noticed it sooner. That warmth in her chest was stronger. And the air around them wasn't quite as thick, wasn't as suffocating as it felt when they were beside the River.
"Emma?!"
Earlier, it wasn't instinct that led her to the right tunnel.
It was her magic.
She smiled. "Killian!" she looked at him, her hope flaring. "It's stronger—my magic is stronger!"
His brows kneaded, his eyes trading worry for confusion. "What?"
She couldn't help smiling. It was making so much sense. "The closer I got to you when I came down here, it was like the air was suffocating me," she explained fast, feeling hope warm as bright as her magic was. "Hades said that where we were was the darkest spot in the Underworld, and that's where my magic was the weakest." She grinned. "My magic is stronger now. If my magic is getting stronger, then that means—"
Killian smiled too, realizing what she was saying. "That we're going in the right direction," he finished for her. His own tired smile grew. "You're bloody brilliant, Emma!"
Emma smiled.
Her magic was going to lead them home.
Chapter 13
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Emma didn't know how long they walked or how many different paths they took, but she knew one thing: her magic was getting stronger and stronger and stronger.
Even before she'd come underground to find Killian, the Underworld already taxed both Emma and Regina's magic. But now, Emma almost felt like she did before they went underground. She was getting stronger.
In terms of magic, anyway.
The hours (god, has it been days?) of walking were taking a toll on both of them. Even as her magic grew stronger, Emma's physical stamina was going steadily downhill. She was exhausted. Her shoulders were on fire from how hard Killian was gripping her and she could no longer ignore the fact that she was thirsty, nor the beginnings of hunger pangs that were starting to hurt for food. Emma had lived on the streets enough to be no stranger to thirst and hunger, so she unfortunately knew with a certainty that right now, it wasn't at critical levels.
That didn't mean it wouldn't become critical if they didn't get out of here soon.
Emma sighed, trying not to think about it, forcing herself to focus on her own footsteps and the pull of her magic. They were close to a way out, she could feel it. She could hold on until they got there.
Killian, on the other hand…
She risked a look at him.
He was doing worse. They'd stopped more frequently the past few hours, and every time they did, it took him longer to get back up. He was beyond tired, and he needed badly to sleep. His eyes remained shut as they walked, and he no longer tried to hide his grunts and groans with every step, his voice yanking painfully at Emma's heart with each one. He was shaking so hard with pain and fatigue that Emma almost lost her grip on him more than once. Killian was leaning more than half of his weight on her now, and looked like he was doing everything he could to simply stay conscious. He'd stumbled badly at one point, having been incredibly close to passing out. Ever since then, he's tried keeping his eyes open.
Watching him struggle, hearing his pain, seeing him like this…
Emma felt tears again sting her eyes.
She held him tighter, finding that desperate hope inside her and clamping on hard.
Now that her magic was stronger, she'd asked Killian if he wanted something healed, but every time he vehemently refused, telling her to save her strength. Emma had thought about healing something regardless of his disagreement, but if they were this close to a possible way out…
She hated that he was right.
She needed to be as strong as she could be.
So, on they went.
It was some time later, Killian still limping horribly beside her, and Emma fighting to keep her own eyes from closing with fatigue, when she saw it.
Something at the end of this tunnel was different. The light was different. It was almost like—
Daylight.
There, at the end of the tunnel, was light.
Could it really…?
Emma blinked against the heavy tiredness of her physical exertion. It was faint, but it looked like a stream of daylight. After all the time trapped in here, with only firelight and that unsettling glow from the River, she knew this light was different.
Not wanting to give either of them false hope, Emma kept her eyes on it as they kept on, hoping, praying, begging it was real.
And the closer they walked, the more and more she realized it was daylight.
At the end of the tunnel, where they were normally forced to choose left or right, was an end. It was a solid wall with what looked like a window, streaming light into the darkness. The torchlights stopped a little ways before they reached the end of the tunnel, shadowing the walls without the aid of the flames, but only making the fact that it was daylight shining through the wall that much clearer. It lit the middle of the path easily.
"Killian," whispered Emma breathlessly when she could see it clearer. Her legs felt nearly numb with exhaustion, but new adrenaline gave her some feeling back, thrumming absolute hope through her veins. "Killian, look!"
He tore his eyes from the ground, panting hard, squinting ahead. He blinked a few times. "Seeing… a bit… double, here, Swan…" he whispered, eyes screwing shut again, making Emma's heart beat faster with fear.
"It's daylight, Killian," she said quickly, hope rising in her chest. "It's daylight!"
But that made Killian's eyes snap back open. He looked ahead, squinting harder where the end of the tunnel was, not twenty yards ahead of them. When he seemed to notice it, he swallowed. He tugged weakly at her, making her stop and look at him. Sudden, sharp fear was in his eyes. "Emma," he said heavily. "We need… to be careful," he said through shallow breaths. "I've fallen… for something like that before. The first time I tried to… escape," he said breathlessly, making Emma's heart clench at the fact that he'd tried and failed to escape more than once. "Hades made an illusion of… daylight," finished Killian quietly.
Emma's brows kneaded. She looked from Killian to the end of the tunnel. The daylight looked so real. "My magic hasn't been stronger than it is right now..." She looked back toward it, biting her lip. They'd stopped not fifty yards away, already shrouded in shadows thanks to the lack of firelight, with only the stream of daylight lighting the way. If it was a giant illusion, that should be enough dark magic that Emma was sure she'd feel it. This didn't feel like an illusion.
"We have to try," whispered Emma finally, hope and doubt battling inside her.
Killian eyed the daylight distrustfully, but nodded, seeming to realize it was their only—and last—option.
Emma tried not to think about what would happen if it was a trick after all.
She swallowed hard, and slowly, cautiously, they approached it.
Heeding Killian's concern, Emma stopped them a few yards away. Shadows clung to the walls, but the daylight was bright and strong through the hole in the wall, which was a foot or so in circumference. Now, Emma could see that it wasn't any sort of door or window in the wall allowing the light to shine through; it was carved out. And through it, Emma caught a glimpse of trees.
Outside.
"You found it too?"
Emma felt her heart launch into her throat at the sudden unfamiliar voice coming from their right.
She grabbed Killian tighter on instinct, raising a hand to attack, feeling Killian go rigid in her hold.
From the shadows that clung to the walls, someone emerged, walking into the light.
It was a teenage boy.
He looked barely older than sixteen, with an innocence in his face that reminded Emma of Henry. He was donned in what looked like a toga, with a crown of olive branches settled into his thick curls. He raised his hands quickly in surrender. "Didn't mean to frighten you," he said, sounding like he meant it. His voice sounded tired, like he hadn't spoken in ages.
He seemed genuine enough, seemed like an innocent child enough, but after meeting Peter Pan, Emma didn't trust children at first glance anymore. And trapped in Hades' hell, she wasn't about to take chances with anyone.
Emma's voice was lost somewhere in her lungs, her heart still hammering in her head in shock, but Killian spoke for her, stumbling back a step, pulling Emma toward him. "Who the bloody hell are you and what are you doing here?" he demanded, but the way his voice shook made Emma quickly shift herself protectively in front of Killian as much as she could while still supporting him.
"You didn't think you were the only lost souls trapped here, did you?" said the boy, not unkindly. "My name is Icarus." He gave a little bow. "I haven't happened upon other lost souls in this area before; no one else has managed to find their way."
Icarus.
Finally finding her voice, Emma blinked. "Icarus?" she echoed. "Don't fly too close to the sun?"
He winced a little. "You sound like my dad."
Killian looked at her. "You-You know this boy?"
"Of him," said Emma distantly, at this point wondering if Harry Potter was real, too. "That's all I know of him, really."
In an instant, Killian wiped away as much of his pain from his face in front of a prospective enemy. If he wasn't shaking like a leaf in her grip, one breeze away from collapsing, Emma might have believed it. "Are you working for the bloody devil?" demanded Killian.
Icarus shook his head. "No, I'd never help someone like Hades. He's as evil as they come. He's the reason I'm trapped here, too."
Emma blinked.
Her superpower remained silent.
"Why'd he trap you here?" asked Emma, raising her eyebrow, still trying to gage whether or not to trust him.
Icarus' eyes found the floor. "I died centuries ago, trying to escape the island of Crete with my dad. He and I have this kind of magic that lets us grow wings, but he had to wait until mine matured enough to fly." His shoulders slumped. "Crete was being overrun and we needed to escape and once I got my wings, I was so excited to fly, that I…" He looked at Emma. "You seem to know what happened then." His eyes found the ground again. "I died and wound up here. I tried to escape the Underworld to get back and help my dad and the rest of our village escape but Hades caught me." Emma watched him carefully, but her lie detector was still silent. Icarus went on, "I still tried to escape even then, and that's when Hades locked me in here, because I wouldn't lose hope."
"I think he's telling the... truth," whispered Killian, voice shallow. "Hades… he has an obsession with ridding people of hope."
Emma regarded Icarus again. "Earlier… you asked us how we found this place too. What is this? Is it a way out?" asked Emma, gesturing to the daylight, but already doubting it because Icarus was still here.
Icarus sighed. "It's as close as we can get to one." He gestured to the hole in the wall. "I found it because I used to have light magic, and I followed it here; the dark magic is at its weakest." Emma smiled inwardly, knowing she figured out the same tactic.
Icarus went on, "I haven't had magic since my wings burned, but I can still sense magical things. Without following it, I'd be like all the other souls trapped in here; lost, wandering the labyrinth forever. For three centuries I've looked for a way out in these tunnels, and this is the closest I've come. I spent most of my years trying to get through this wall." He sighed, gesturing to the haphazard carve job. "But there's a layer of dark magic behind the wall, separating us from the outside." Emma squinted, and she could see what he meant. It was like there was a subtle gray filter over the view of the trees and sky outside. "Since I don't have magic to get past it," Icarus went on, "no matter what I do, I'm just forced to spend eternity looking at freedom... but not being able to have it." He looked toward the daylight. "I'll never stop trying, though. I'll dig at it for all eternity if that's what it takes. I won't lose hope."
Emma's head snapped up. "I have magic," she breathed. She looked from Killian to Icarus. "Light magic. I think…" She swallowed, hope rising sharply. She set her shoulders with determination. "I think I can get past it."
Icarus' brows kneaded. "But even light magic is weakened after death—"
"I'm not dead," said Emma quickly. "I came down here to… save him," she said, giving Killian a smile, who weakly returned it.
Icarus' eyes widened. "You really think you can get us out?" he asked in a small voice.
Emma took a breath, nodding, pushing away her exhaustion. I hope so. She looked at Killian, who nodded, and Emma could see the sheer hope, the trust in his eyes.
"You can do it, love," he whispered.
Letting out a breath, releasing her other arm around him, but still letting him lean on her, Emma held out her palms to the wall, shutting her eyes.
If this didn't work…
Her heart pounded.
It will work.
It will.
It has to.
Emma let every ounce of magic, every facet of her strength, her motivation, her desperation for this to work, build up between her hands. Magic glowed with a heat between her palms.
Giving it everything she had, Emma released the energy in a blast so loud it rung her ears.
Rock and dust exploded, and light crashed into the once-dark space.
But though the rock of the wall had been blasted away, she could feel what Icarus meant; the dark magic, acting like a barrier. Her magic hesitated, rivaled by it, but Emma clenched her jaw.
Magic is emotion.
Emma released every bit of her desperation, her fear for Killian, her agony seeing him in pain, her love for him, her need to get them both home, to fix what she broke, to live, to save him, to bring him home build up within her, coursing from her heart and soul to her palms, the energy increasing and burning with everything she had.
And just when she felt herself pass her limits, using more magical energy than she ever has in her life, tears stinging her eyes with the blinding fear that she simply wasn't strong enough—
It happened.
Like shattering glass, her magic burst through the dark magic veil.
It broke into a million black shards, turning to dust as they fell, swirling into a cloud that disappeared into nothing.
Fresh air swept in at once, like pure relief.
"Emma," came Killian's voice, bright with relief and pure joy. "Love, you're brilliant!"
Emma opened her eyes. She blinked slow, an enormous wave of heavy exhaustion washing over her, her strength and energy feeling hollow, like a dried-up well. Her legs suddenly went numb, and she listed, too dazed to catch herself.
"Emma!"
Killian tried to catch her, but he couldn't move fast enough. He grabbed her arm, but someone else's arms wrapped around her waist.
Icarus caught her—as well as kept Killian from falling, who staggered, barely managing to stay on his feet with his grip on Emma. It took Emma a moment to find her footing as she blinked the black spots from her vision, and Icarus helped her back upright, only letting go when Killian had a grip around her shoulders again.
Emma hardly noticed.
She couldn't stop staring at it.
At freedom.
Relief flooded her, staring into the red-hued sky, in the middle of what looked like the woodland. She looked at Killian, a smile as bright as the light outside slipping onto her face.
She swayed again, and Killian tightened his grip on her, both supporting each other.
Icarus' eyes were lit up with a sparkle brighter than the sun. Tentatively, he stepped forward, one step past where the tunnel wall had once been.
His sandal-clad foot crushed a leaf on the ground.
He was outside.
Free.
He laughed, the sound like the personification of relief.
Emma and Killian both followed the younger boy, and supporting each other, they walked outside.
A twig snapped under Emma's boot.
Light caressed her skin.
Wind tousled Killian's hair.
They were free.
Icarus suddenly bowed to her, hands pressed together in what looked like a traditional gesture from what must have been Greek culture. "I had held onto hope that I would find a way to free myself, but it seems my hope was to find you. Thank you. I will forever be grateful." He smiled, and Emma smiled back. He bowed once more, and then stared at the freedom for a moment with a thoughtful look on his face. Then, he turned and started to walk back into the tunnel.
"Kid—Icarus," said Emma quickly. "Where are you going?!"
Icarus smiled. "There are many lost souls wandering this labyrinth. Without sensing magic they'll never find the way out. I'm going to lead them to their freedom." He smiled. "I may not have been able to lead my village to freedom from Crete, but I can lead these souls to a better place. I now realize it must have always been my Unfinished Business. Thank you for making it possible." Icarus said meaningfully, and gave one final bow. "I wish you both luck returning to the Land of the Living." Emma smiled a little, for she could use every bit of luck she could find, and Icarus disappeared back into the tunnel.
Emma and Killian both held each other tightly. Emma knew with an unsettling amount of certainty that after her last bout of magic, neither of them would be standing on their own without support.
Emma looked tiredly at Killian.
He was already looking at her, like she was a sight more beautiful than freedom.
Emma smiled at him, tears stinging her eyes as she whispered, "Let's go home."
Notes:
a/n: No, this isn't the end. :) Plenty of h/c to come when Emma and Killian get back to their underworld version of home.
I hope Icarus fit in okay! When I researched Greek mythology, Icarus seemed like a perfect fit for what I was going for in the story. What's cool too is that in the lore, Icarus' father actually invented the very first Labyrinth ever, which I think is so crazy, because I didn't even research Icarus until after I trapped Emma and Killian in a maze. Most of Icarus' story is true from what I read of the lore, with some changes to fit this story and Once's version of magic, etc. We won't see Icarus again, but rest assured that he and all the other lost souls will escape without Hades stopping them. I couldn't help having Emma save yet even more people, and couldn't leave those poor other lost souls to be trapped forever. :)
So I hope this chapter read well and we've got quite the reunion coming up in the next chapter..!
~cosette141
Chapter 14
Notes:
Ohhhhhhh the part we've been waiting for. ;)
~cosette141
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Though Icarus trusted that Hades wouldn't know they'd escaped, Emma didn't want to take the chance. She wanted to get them the hell away from here as quickly as possible. They weren't safe yet. She couldn't rest until they were.
She shut her eyes, fighting the overwhelming tiredness, the strong pull to sleep, and tried to reach for her magic to poof them home.
Except...
There wasn't energy left to reach.
Blasting through the wall used up every ounce of magical energy she had (and almost all of her non-magical energy, by how dazed she still felt); they were going to have to at least start on foot.
"I don't have the energy to poof us home," said Emma, giving Killian a winced look. "We're going to have to walk back to town."
Killian had been gazing tiredly at the foliage around them, looking like a captive seeing sunshine for the first time.
Emma's heart hurt.
At her words, Killian nodded, letting out a breath and bracing himself to move again. They gripped each other tightly, both of them clinging to nothing but raw adrenaline, and started walking through the forest. Without the little strength she'd had before freeing them, Emma felt like her own weight was too much for her to handle. But Killian's scream echoed in her head again, and she tightened her grip, holding onto every bit of strength she had left in order not to fall, and absolutely not to drop him.
Emma didn't recognize this part of the forest, only making her think that they were very far from civilization. Great.
As they walked, Killian suddenly asked, "Town?" he echoed, like he was just hearing what she'd said minutes ago. "There's a—" He grunted when a step jarred his ribs. Emma winced in sympathy. "There's a town here?" he managed.
"You haven't seen it?" asked Emma, wincing when her head spun a little as she sidestepped a branch in her way.
"When I di—" Killian's voice cut off, but it wasn't from physical pain. Emma felt guilt sink deep into her bones. "When I got here," he said instead, grunting again with another painful step, his grip on her shoulders tightening, "I woke up… in a cell," he finished breathlessly.
Emma felt her heart twist.
He never had even one moment of peace since the moment he died.
She wanted to kill Hades.
Emma swallowed, trying to shove all the emotions away. "Hades made the Underworld to look like Storybrooke," said Emma, panting now. "According to him, he has his reasons, and he doesn't have to share them with us."
Killian's brows weakly rose. "It looks like Storybrooke?"
"A twisted version of it," said Emma, trying to duck under a branch, wincing when she couldn't avoid it scratching her cheek. "It's a carbon copy, down to our houses. My parents' house is here; it's been our sort of home base ever since we got here."
Something unreadable passed through Killian's eyes. "I hope your… family is all right," he whispered, grimacing with another step.
Emma felt fear flit through her. "Me, too."
Killian suddenly tripped over a root in the ground, and Emma had to catch him fast, her grip making him groan. Clenching her teeth, because holding him was hard enough work when she wasn't completely drained, Emma barely managed to get him back to his feet. She held him tight when she did, both of them breathing hard.
Emma looked at him, his jaw clenched tighter than she's ever seen it. "We just have to make it back to the loft," she whispered, breathless. "Then you can rest and Regina can heal you. Okay?"
A testament to how terrible he must feel, he just cracked open his eyes and nodded.
They walked in silence for a while, Emma scanning the ground almost obsessively for anything that might trip Killian. But after a while, she felt a little of her magic flare back up. Not much, but it was something. Now that she didn't have to constantly fight the presence of the darkest of dark magic, her magic was returning a bit faster than it had been. She smiled an exhausted smile.
She tiredly lifted her head, seeing the tall trees of Storybrooke's woodland like New York skyscrapers around them. "I'm going to try to poof us as far as I can," she said, stopping them. Killian was panting hard now, his arm wrapped tightly around his ribs, and he nodded without opening his eyes. Emma shut hers, thinking of a spot in the Storybrooke forest she at least recognized that wouldn't be too far for her magic to take them.
White smoke enveloped them with the familiar pull of magic yanking deep in her gut, and Emma opened her eyes, stumbling backward, grateful a tree was right behind her. She leaned against it for a moment, holding Killian tightly to her, trying to blink away black spots from her vision. After a moment, they faded, and she blinked open her eyes, feeling hollow with weakness. But she smiled despite it.
She knew where they were now.
They were where Robin Hood and the Merry Men camped out.
Town was less than a half hours' trek away.
Emma gave Killian and herself a moment to rest, but the fear that Hades was coming after them was a fear that wouldn't stop gnawing at her. So, before she felt ready to even think about walking, they were walking again, and Emma herself was struggling not to trip.
By the time they reached the edge of the woods, Killian's steps were dragging and his grip on her hurt. Emma winced under his hold, trying to fight her own weakness. She was running on pure adrenaline and desperation now, and would not stop until they were home. Until they were safe. Until she could wipe every ounce of pain from him once and for all.
Once they emerged from the woods, Emma swallowed, seeing people walking in the distance. She didn't know how many spies Hades had; it was probably safer to avoid Main Street.
Hating that she was making their trek even longer, Emma led them to one of the side streets, finally finding themselves walking on concrete.
Killian tiredly opened his eyes at the change in ground, and he blinked at the town. "Bloody… creepy," he commented shallowly.
Emma nodded, grimacing. "Tell me about it."
Now that they weren't tripping over roots and uneven ground, they were making progress faster. Emma felt her heart beat faster and faster as they got closer to the loft, glad she decided to choose nearly deserted streets, just in case.
And finally, finally, they were walking down the street to her parents' home.
As they started down it, Killian suddenly leaned even more heavily on her, to the point where Emma felt all of his weight. Her heart jumping into her throat, Emma stopped to catch him, faltering badly under his weight.
His eyes were shut.
"Killian?!" He looked seconds from passing out, if he wasn't already unconscious. "Hey," she said quickly, shaking him a little, making him wince. Emma's heart pounded. "We're almost there. I… I can't get us there on my own," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes, but she was relieved to see his eyes crack open. "It's just a few more steps, then you can rest, I promise..." she whispered desperately.
Killian whispered a very quiet apology as he got back to his feet, and Emma felt her heart rip into shreds. "That's it," she whispered, pulling him after her. Unsteady, but upright, he did his best to follow.
Emma held him even tighter as they staggered down the street, and she couldn't help the involuntary smile when she saw the building appear. She pulled Killian a little faster.
Home.
They were home.
Or, as close to home as they could get in the Underworld.
Emma pulled open the outside door with her free hand, and eyed the stairs warily. Deciding that was impossible, Emma shut her eyes, reaching for the sliver of magical energy she had left to poof them to the top of the stairs.
Her magic was so low in energy they made it one step short, and Emma had to grab the railing to keep them both from falling. With great, great effort, they managed to walk up the last step.
Emma felt her smile return, seeing their door, and she dragged Killian with her. She grabbed the door knob, suddenly afraid no one would be there. Her heart beating impeccably fast, she tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. Sighing, she raised her fist with what felt like the last of her physical strength. She pounded on the door.
Not a second later, Emma heard something shatter like a glass hitting the ground, and then the door ripped open.
"Regina! Did you find—"
Snow froze.
Her jaw fell open as she stared at them in utter shock.
"Emma!" she breathed, throwing herself at her daughter, grabbing her in the biggest bear hug, making tears spring to Emma's eyes.
"Hi, Mom," said Emma, her voice small and cracked because they were home, they were safe, it was okay now.
"You're okay," whispered her mother, holding her so tight Emma could hardly breathe. "You're safe, oh, my god, you're okay."
Snow pulled back, hands still gripping Emma's shoulders firmly like she was afraid she'd vanish. "David!" she yelled. Snow suddenly looked at Killian. Her relieved smile grew. "You found—!" Her words froze, and something like horror clouded her eyes as she took in his appearance. "Killian!" she breathed. "Look at you," she whispered in a voice that sounded as tortured as Killian was.
He smiled a very strained grin. "I'll be… all right," he managed.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs as David came from the second level of the loft. "Is Regina—" he began quickly, but he froze at the bottom of the stairs, eyes widening at the sight of them. "Emma!" he exclaimed. He ran, grabbing Emma in a hug just as crushing as the one her mother gave her. Emma smiled over his shoulder, relief flooding her. He pulled back, looking at Killian, who was still shaking like he was hypothermic. "Hook," he breathed, relief in his voice until his eyes took in Killian's injuries, and he suddenly had the same horrified look that Mary Margaret had. "Let's get him to the couch," said David quickly.
"Get…" breathed Killian, wincing sharply as they took a step, voice cutting into a groan. "Get Emma water," he finished breathlessly as Emma helped him into the apartment.
Emma couldn't help the broken smile because he never stopped putting her first, did he? "I'm okay, really," she said, meaning it. Thirst was an afterthought at the moment. All she cared about right now was getting Killian healed, and then home.
But even as she said the words, adrenaline was failing her, and she faltered under his weight.
"I've got him," said David, swooping in before Emma accidentally dropped Killian. Carefully, Emma slipped Killian's arm from around her shoulders to David's.
However, David wasn't expecting Killian to be holding so little of his own weight. He staggered under Killian's weight, his other arm moving fast to hold Killian around—
"Wait!" said Emma quickly. "Be careful with his—"
But she was too late, and David grabbed Killian tightly around his back.
Killian cried out, his voice cutting abruptly, his legs collapsing under him. David managed to catch him before he hit the ground. "Hook?! Hook!" David shook him a little, but Killian didn't move. David whipped his head up to Emma. "What'd I do?!"
"He—" Emma felt tears burn her eyes again, the sound of Killian’s pain making her chest hurt. "There's something wrong with his back, I don't know what but—" She hurried to help David move Killian to the couch.
Snow went quickly around the other side of the couch, situating the pillows. "Lay him down," she instructed. "Carefully." David managed to get Killian on the couch, laying him gently on his chest over a few of the pillows. Emma quickly detached his hook and put it on the coffee table behind her.
Emma knelt beside Killian's head, her hand on the healed side of his face, turned toward her. "Killian?" she asked shakily. "Can you hear me?"
His eyes remained shut.
David knelt beside her. "He's out cold." His eyes tracked the blood and gashes that covered every inch of him. "Holy shit," he breathed.
Snow gasped lightly, her hand hovering over the open wounds in Killian's neck and shoulder. She looked at Emma, tears in her eyes. "Hades did this?" she whispered.
Emma nodded distantly. Here, in the light, he looked so much worse. The gruesomeness of it was so much clearer, making her lose her breath. The lack of color in his face, the blood dripping—
David seemed to notice it at the same moment Emma did. He carefully touched the tips of his fingers to a rip in the back of Killian's jacket that was saturated with blood. When he pulled his fingers back, they were dripping with fresh blood. "He's bleeding pretty heavily," he whispered. He looked at Emma. "He didn't say what..?"
Emma shook her head numbly. "He—He didn't talk about… about how—how he got any of it," she said shakily. Feeling the short-lived relief at returning home leave her, Emma reached her trembling fingers for the collar of Killian's jacket. In this light, she could see just how torn and dirty it was, and she could also see how much blood was leaking through the rip in his jacket.
Emma carefully tried pulling his jacket off him, but blood from whatever gash was in his back had dried to it, making it snag. Not wanting to reopen the wound any more than it already has been, Emma shut her eyes, using the little magic she had to magic the jacket off of him, transporting it to the floor next to her.
Emma heard her parents' gasps before she opened her eyes.
Her heart stopped.
His entire back was an open wound.
The criss-crossed pattern of gashes that drew lines from his shoulder to his hip left no room for imagination.
He'd been whipped.
And by the look of it, hundreds of times.
Emma stared in shock, horrified.
His back was almost completely raw. The strikes were concentrated most in his upper back; she couldn't even see his skin between the dried and fresh blood. His shirt lay in shreds, hanging in torn pieces, the material barely having survived. Fresh blood spilled from the reopened wounds.
His nightmare in the caves snuck into her mind.
His fear.
The sheer pleading in his voice.
Emma didn't even know tears were falling down her cheeks until she felt her mother's trembling hand on her shoulder, but Snow couldn't tear her own eyes away.
"Oh, my—" breathed David, stricken.
Emma felt more tears burn down her cheeks. "He—he said I healed the worst of it," she whispered numbly.
She'd thought she'd healed the worst of it.
She wasn't even close.
"He had more than this?" whispered her mother in horrified disbelief, her face whiter than her namesake.
Emma lifted her shaking hands. She reached for the scrap of magical energy she had, grateful that healing open wounds was less taxing than healing bone, and she concentrated her magic over the worst, rawest of the wounds.
Her magic wavered several times before finally coming through. A sliver of warmth was left, and she grabbed it desperately, like wringing out the last drops from a damp cloth.
Killian's skin began stitching slowly back together until she could see new, unmarred skin form over the grotesqueness.
Emma managed to heal almost his entire upper back before she swayed, her limits so far past reached, and her hands fell, her eyes falling shut. She would have fallen if not for David catching her.
"Emma!" he whispered worriedly, pulling her carefully back upright. Emma shook herself, trying to erase the dizziness, and lifted her hands again, her fingers shaking harder, but her magic wouldn't even come. She growled in frustration.
Something like a broken sob wracked her chest. "Where's Regina? I... I don't have enough energy to heal the rest," she choked out.
"She left a few hours ago with Robin and Henry," answered David hollowly. "The three of them have been spending all of our daylight hours as a search party to find you, Hook or Gold. Snow and I wanted to be here in case you found your way home," he said, his own eyes glistening with emotion at the fact that she did. He looked back to Killian, that stricken look back in his eyes. "They won't be back until dark," he said reluctantly.
Emma sniffed, lifting her trembling hands again, trying to get her magic to work. But nothing was there. She shook them out, trying again. Nothing. She was drained. Completely, finally, drained.
Snow's hands covered hers. "Emma, sweetie, rest."
"But—"
"Emma," she whispered. "You healed more than half of it," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, because even though that was true of his back, it was barely a dent in the injuries he had everywhere else. "The rest of the cuts are superficial. He'll be okay," said Snow gently.
"But," tried Emma again, weakly trying to pull her hands free.
"Emma," said David softly. "You know Hook wouldn't want you passing out trying to heal him."
"I don't care!" More tears were falling. "Did you just see that?!" breathed Emma. She couldn't unsee it. The image of his back, replaying all the times in the caves when something merely touched it and his face had gone white—"I healed so much of him already and… and he still had that?!" She was crying now, unable to hold it back. "H-He's still in so much pain and he's s-suffered so much and I can't heal it—I can't fix it—I can't—"
David pulled her to his chest, and she cried into his shirt, letting the sobs wrack her chest, letting the tears burn, letting out everything she's held in for so damn long. "He's dead, Dad," she whispered brokenly, her body trembling with fatigue and pain and a terrible hollow feeling in her chest.
"Shh," he whispered, his hand gently running over her hair, holding her tightly, and Emma couldn't help more tears falling. "It's all right, baby." And for the first time in her life, she felt like his daughter. His little girl, who just wanted her dad to make everything okay. "You saved him, Emma. And we're going to bring him home. I promise."
Emma clung to him, desperately holding onto his words, letting out the breath she'd been holding since she found Killian because they made it and they were safe and she finally didn't have to save Killian alone.
Notes:
a/n: the comfort train has left the station. fasten your seatbelts. we've got plenty more of a ride to go. ;)
~cosette141
Chapter 15
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Emma's hands still clutched fistfuls of David's shirt. She blamed her exhaustion for how vulnerable she was letting herself be. Even though she was learning that it was okay, it was safe, to fall apart in front of her family… it still wasn't something she was used to. She couldn't remember breaking like this ever before. More so even than the night Killian—
Emma froze the thought, not going there.
Incapable of going there.
"Emma, hon," whispered David into her hair. "When was the last time you slept?"
"I don't know," she mumbled. Emma let her father pull her to her feet, and he sat her down gently in the armchair next to the couch, still close enough that Killian was within arm's reach. With a little smile, Emma saw that her mother must have gotten up to get a blanket while she was in David's arms, for a blanket was laid over Killian. Emma reached over, gently cupping the healed side of Killian's face.
He didn't react to her touch.
She could still feel him tremble, but she had an awful feeling that it didn't have to do with feeling cold. She could hear his shallow breathing, like he couldn't draw in a full breath. Fear picked up her heart, and Emma suddenly remembered his ribs.
"He—Killian has broken ribs," she said quickly, moving to get off the chair, even when her entire body felt like it weighed a million pounds. "We should—"
But David seemed to know exactly what she intended, and he smiled a little. "I've got him," he said gently.
Carefully, David lifted Killian, turning him onto his back. Snow set the pillows for him to lean against and fixed the blanket around him, her brows kneading when Killian still shook like a leaf.
Emma felt something warm touch her heart, seeing her parents treating Killian so carefully. And it struck her that Killian, too, grew up without parents. Grew up with no one except an older brother-and thank goodness he had Liam-to care for him, ever since he was a little boy, only for Liam to take his own leave when Killian was still just a teenager. And unlike Emma herself, Killian didn't gain parents later in his life, nor had the knowledge that his parents left him for good reason. From what Emma had been able to coax from him, Killian's mother died when he was too young to know her, and his father left him on purpose.
But Emma smiled, seeing Snow's fingers hesitate over Killian's forehead as if checking his temperature, something soft in her eyes.
No, Killian didn't have parents.
But he did find new ones, whether he realized it yet or not.
It only added to the ever-growing list of motivation to bring Killian home.
He deserved to finally find happiness.
To have a family.
Emma felt tears sting her eyes, reaching out a hand to run softly through Killian's hair.
She would bring him home if it was the last thing she did.
Killian didn't wake despite being moved, nor under Emma's touch. Other than a hitch in his breath, his eyes remained closed. Emma smiled a little, grateful he was getting the rest he so desperately needed. So desperately deserved. And the longer he remained unconscious, the longer he was without conscious pain, which gave Emma the smallest reprieve of her own. Her eyes flicked to the window, showing the red-hued sky. The daylight was beginning to dim. David had said Regina would return by dark.
Emma looked at Killian, breathing out.
Soon.
You'll be free of the pain. Soon.
A blanket was suddenly draped around Emma's shoulders, and she gave a little smile to her father. She was trembling a little, but her own shakes weren't from cold, either. She felt like she needed to sleep for a week, and she was just on this side of collapsing. Snow walked back from the kitchen with a full glass of water. She handed it to Emma, and pulled up a chair to sit beside her.
Emma took it, suddenly remembering how thirsty she was. The glass shook in her grip. She could barely keep the water from spilling, and her mother reached out to steady her grip. Emma slowly took a sip, and before she knew it, she downed the whole glass.
Snow smiled, and David chuckled a little from his perch on the edge of the coffee table. Snow retrieved the glass from Emma's hands and filled it back up in the kitchen, giving Emma a second glass. It was gone as fast as the first. Emma blinked, feeling better already. "Thanks," she whispered.
Emma was brought four more glasses of water that she downed in seconds, and Snow gave her the little food she could find in the fridge. Emma could now tell how much of her weakness was related to her thirst and hunger.
"Now," said her mother, sitting back down next to her. "Are you all right? Are you hurt at all?"
Emma shook her head. Not physically. Other than the deep bruises bound to be in her shoulders from Killian's grip and her own soreness from walking, she was physically fine. Emma rubbed her eyes.
"You should get some sleep," said David gently, but Emma shook her head, eyes glued to Killian. "I can't," she whispered. "Not right now."
Not until he's okay.
Her parents exchanged a concerned glance. To distract them, Emma asked, "How long has it been? Since I left?"
Her parents exchanged another glance, and in it Emma could tell it was long enough to terrify the life out of them.
"Three days," said Snow. A chill shot down Emma's spine. "Three Underworld days, anyway," she added quietly. "Regina waited outside your house when you and Gold went down. She said that a few hours later, Gold came out alone. The moment he saw her see him, he vanished and we haven't been able to find him since." Tears in her eyes, she said, "Emma, we thought you…" Snow squeezed her shoulder, and Emma heard what she didn't say loud and clear.
She didn't exactly want to tell her how close she'd come.
How close they'd both come.
Emma swallowed. "When I… when I found Killian," she said slowly, "He…" Her throat closed up. She swallowed. "He was chained up over the River of Lost Souls." she said, voice barely a whisper. Emma shifted uncomfortably, seeing the same haunted feeling she felt in both her parents' eyes. "I got him down but somehow Hades knew we were there. He stopped us from leaving, and then he…" Her voice hitched, hearing Killian's horrible scream echo in her head again. She felt her mother's hand squeeze her shoulder.
And Emma was diving into what happened, how Hades tried to throw both of them into the River, then trapped them in the caves, and their lucky-as-all-hell escape. By the time she was done, her voice felt scratchy and the light outside dimmed significantly.
David rubbed her knee from where he still sat at the edge of the coffee table. "You're incredible, Emma."
Snow smiled, tears glistening. "Thank god you're both okay."
Emma tried to smile, but it was too broken to be called one.
Looking at Killian, from the blood and the bruises and the way he winced even in sleep.
Hades didn't just break him physically, either.
They were the furthest thing from okay.
"This does pose a little bit of a problem, though," said David. When Emma and Snow looked at him, he said, "That boat that Hades took back… it was our way home."
Emma bit her lip.
A slight silence spread before Snow straightened. "Well, then we'll just have to get another one."
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Snow shot to her feet and David stood.
"Charmings," called a familiar voice through the door. "It's us; let us in."
Regina.
And with a smile, Emma realized, Henry.
Relief sunk into Emma's bones, new adrenaline making her jump off the chair and dart for the door. She unlocked it and tore it open.
Regina, Robin and Henry were in the doorway, Regina's hand still up mid-knock.
All three froze in shock at the sight of her, obviously being the last person they expected to be at the door.
"Mom!"
Henry crashed into her. Emma felt tears sting her eyes. She stumbled, and David quickly reached out to steady her. "Hey, kid," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek.
"Emma," said Regina, brows raised in shock and impress.
"You're—" Henry pulled back, tears in his eyes. "You're back!" He hugged her again tightly. "You're okay!"
"Yeah, we're back," said Emma with a watery smile.
"'We're?'" echoed Henry. Emma turned toward Killian, still unconscious on the couch. "You found him!" said Henry with a grin that faded when he saw Killian. He took a tentative step toward him, face falling even more. "Is he… gonna be okay?"
"He is now," whispered Emma.
Regina took a few steps toward the couch as well, brows kneading. "Hades did a real number on him," she muttered sympathetically.
Robin closed the door behind them. "Glad you're both… safe," he said to Emma, wincing when he, too, took in Killian. He cleared his throat. "We were… we were getting pretty worried out there."
After three days of searching, so would I, thought Emma with discomfort.
Emma smiled sadly. "You weren't the only ones." Looking back to Regina, Emma said, "It's a long story, but I don't have much energy left to heal Killian. Can you…?"
"Of course," she said instantly. And it still sometimes shocked Emma how different the woman was from the one she met. Emma would never stop being grateful that Regina was on their side.
"And," said Emma, "there's something you should know. The boat that was supposed to take us home…" Emma grimaced. "Hades took it back. We don't have a way home anymore."
"Yet," added Snow with her ever-present hope.
"That's..." began Regina slowly, "not actually our biggest concern at the moment." Regina set her lips, and Robin and Henry suddenly looked grave.
Emma felt a chill slip down her spine.
"What is it?" asked Snow hesitantly.
Regina sighed. "We found something in the cemetery when we were looking for Gold."
"Found what?" asked David, voice gaining a tortured edge because why couldn't this family ever catch a break?
"Gravestones," she said, like she was reluctant to say it. "Ones that weren't there when we passed through this morning."
"And…?" prompted Emma.
"Our gravestones," finished Regina heavily.
Emma blinked. "What?"
"More specifically," said Regina with a heavy sigh, "Yours, mine, and Snow's."
"What does that mean?" breathed Snow.
Emma shut her eyes, not having to stretch her imagination too far to make a guess.
"It means we can't leave," whispered Emma.
Hades must have learned of their escape, and retaliated.
And now, not only was Emma paying for it, so were Regina and her mother.
First, Hades nearly destroyed Killian, and now this?
Emma felt hot anger well in her chest.
David spoke first. "We'll find a way," he said firmly, channeling some of Snow's unwavering faith. "He's not stopping us that easily."
Emma opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly felt lightheaded again. Perhaps she wasn't as recharged as she thought. She stumbled a little with the head rush, and both Robin and David reached out to steady her, slowly helping her back into the armchair.
"Mom?" asked Henry worriedly.
"Emma," said Snow worriedly. "You need to sleep. We'll figure this out. We always do."
Emma sighed, nodding tiredly. "I will. Once Killian's healed," she whispered, looking to Regina.
Regina walked closer to the couch, regarding Killian with a calculated look. She winced the more she saw. "I'll... need some more room to work," she said softly. Looking at Emma, she then waved her hand, and in an instant, a cloud of purple smoke enveloped the three of them, and Killian was suddenly lying on Emma's old bed at the top of the stairs, and Emma appeared seated at the foot of the bed.
Emma swayed from the abruptness, grabbing the blanket to stay upright. "A little warning next time?" she muttered halfheartedly.
Regina spared her half a grin, but it fell as she stood over Killian. She looked over him, as if looking for a place to start. "Damn," she breathed, eyes roaming the horrible bruising that covered almost every inch of him. Regina took a breath, her fingers ghosting the right side of Killian's face. She shut her eyes, and started to heal him.
Emma watched as Regina concentrated her magic, emanating a purple glow over the black bruises on his cheekbone that went all the way down to his jaw. They slowly faded from black to purple to a light shade of blue, to Killian. Emma smiled, seeing his face slowly look more and more like him. The gash at his hairline slowly stitched back together, as well as the one underneath his right eye, and a laceration at the back of his head that had left a trail of dried blood behind his ear. Regina's hands hesitated at his throat, at the bruises that showed clear strangulation. Swallowing, she pressed on, healing them as well. Emma couldn't help flashing back to the moment Hades had grabbed him, the moment she thought would be the last time she'd ever see him. Killian's scream echoed hauntingly through her mind, making her eyes sting.
The stairs creaked. Emma's eyes on Killian, she felt more than saw her mother join them. Snow put a hand on Emma's shoulder, smiling a relieved smile at Regina's progress.
Regina moved to Killian's torso, a wince in her face when she saw the horrible mess of his shoulder. His shirt was still covering most of it, but from what they could see, it already looked raw and awful. Regina took a breath, and slowly pressed one palm to his chest and the other to his shoulder.
Emma watched Regina's brow lift sharply at the same moment Killian groaned, his eyes snapping open.
Regina tore her hands away.
"Killian?!" breathed Emma.
He breathed hard, breath coming in short, pained gasps. His eyes cracked open, settling unsteadily on Emma. Through panting breaths, he whispered, "Em—" He winced again. "Emma?" he rasped, seeing her, but not quite with them. His eyes were bright with pain and disorientation. He cringed sharply, hand scrabbling for his shoulder.
"There's…" Regina blinked, staring at Killian's shoulder with a stricken look. "There's nothing even left intact," she whispered, looking at Emma. "His shoulder and collarbone, it's… it's like something… crushed him," she said hollowly.
Emma felt a horrible chill slip down her spine, having thought the same thing when she'd healed his leg.
Regina reached for his shoulder again, her brows creasing when he flinched from her touch, and she hesitated like she didn't know how to proceed. Killian's eyes screwed shut, disjointed sounds slipping through his teeth.
"It's okay, it's okay, hold on," Emma whispered to him breathlessly. Emma shut her eyes, the sound of his agony tearing horribly at her heart, and she touched Killian's cheek and let the little magic she'd regained flow from her fingertips to Killian. She watched him fall still, his eyes fluttering closed, her magic putting him gently back to sleep. Emma breathed out, heart pounding, tears burning.
Regina shook herself. She nodded to Emma. "Good idea," she murmured. Again, Regina tentatively touched his shoulder. She slowly pulled his shirt from his chest, and all three of them winced at the open wounds, and the sheer amount of blood that had streamed from them down his side.
Emma felt her breath catch. She'd seen some of it in the caves, but the firelight had been kinder to the wounds, not showing the extent of how horrific they actually were.
What looked like four stab wounds had torn through his shoulder and chest. They weren't clean and they were surrounded by horrible black bruising. It looked like this injury alone would have been enough to kill him. Emma's chest hurt.
Snow let out a little gasp. "Are those…" She paled, looking closer at his shoulder, color draining even more from her face as she whispered, "Are those… claw marks?"
Emma froze.
But sure enough, looking closer, Emma could see it. The outline of it.
Claws.
Like a huge animal with a heavy paw and razor claws had—
Emma felt cold trail through her.
No.
No.
Emma felt her mind snap back to the day in the cemetery when she'd managed to contact Killian, even only partly. When his bloody and broken image had shown itself to them, her worst fears realized.
That image had been burned into her brain, and she was afraid she'd never be able to unsee it for as long as she lived.
But now, she realized something that she hadn't realized before.
He didn't have this wound then.
This happened after she contacted him.
Emma couldn't breathe.
"And Hook?"
Meg shuddered from where Emma had sat her down on the couch. "I… I don't… know," she whispered, eyes haunted.
"Where is he?" breathed Emma.
"He's in an underground prison. But… it's being guarded by something… terrible."
"Cerberus," whispered Snow, voice tortured.
Emma screwed her eyes shut, putting it all together into the horrifying picture it made.
How Killian had helped Meg escape.
How he managed to get Emma the message to find him.
And how terribly he paid for it.
Emma's eyes burned. "Killian," she whispered brokenly.
Regina swallowed, taking a breath. She pressed her palms back to his chest, to the first of the wounds. The deep wounds stitched back together, slowly erasing the evidence of what he went through.
But it didn't erase Emma having seen it.
And it didn't erase Killian having suffered it.
Cerberus.
He'd been attacked—mauled—by Cerberus, already as injured as he was—
Emma felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly.
Emma's hand never left Killian's face, her shaking fingers brushing over his hair as Regina worked. Regina managed to heal the rest of the open wounds in his shoulder, all of the broken bones in his chest, his ribs and the lash wounds Emma couldn't heal in his back. His wrists were raw and bloodstained from what looked like manacles, and Emma still didn't know what the ugly wound in his palm could have been from. Regina had even managed to find fractures in his left arm. Regina healed him until there was no outward evidence that he'd ever been hurt in the first place.
And through all of it, seeing all the injuries she'd seen before and all the ones she was just seeing now, Emma could only think over and over he'd walked with these for days.
For days.
Something burned behind her eyes.
By the time Regina was done, she looked exhausted. But Emma couldn't help a broken little smile, seeing Killian rather than blood and horribleness. Regina had even managed to erase the bloodstains from his skin and stitch back together his shirt. Finally, Killian looked like himself.
And the next time he woke, it would be without pain. That thought alone made a relieved tear slip down Emma's cheek.
"My magic has limits here," said Regina tiredly, stepping back. "He might still be sore for a while."
Emma just smiled. "Thank you. Thank you, Regina." she whispered.
Regina hesitated a little, then smiled back. Like maybe she was still unused to people being grateful to her, and maybe she was still happy it was who she was now. "I'm happy I could help. And that you're both all right." Regina smiled that trademark little, quiet grin of hers and then turned to go back downstairs, where the rest of them were having a quiet conversation, presumably about how the hell they were going to get home.
Emma looked back at Killian, seeing him finally sleeping peacefully, glad that her magic was able to give him a dreamless sleep.
"He's okay now," came her mother's quiet voice over her shoulder. "We'll bring him home, Emma. I promise."
Emma smiled, brushing her thumb over his cheek, watching him sleep. She blinked with effort, feeling her own relief come over her in a wave of heavy tiredness.
"Now," said Snow softly, "get some sleep, Emma."
Emma smiled a little, and finally acquiesced. She laid down on the pillow beside Killian, her head opting instead for his shoulder, grateful she could finally touch him without hurting him. Emma shut her eyes, feeling him breathe without any sort of hitch in his breath. She smiled.
"We'll be right here," said Snow's voice from far away. Emma distantly felt her mother kiss her softly on the forehead, already slipping away, and a blanket was pulled over both her and Killian. "Sleep, sweetheart," whispered Snow.
Emma snuggled into Killian, falling asleep to the rhythm of his easy breathing, feeling like Killian wasn't the only one who had been healed.
Notes:
a/n: finally, killian gets the healing he deserved ;) again, I'm taking a couple liberties with Once's magic rules, because I prefer the idea that a magic user would have to at least understand what the injuries are and heal them more one by one than a magical wave of their hand over an entire body. (Also confusing because when Snow got that concussion in season 4, Emma said it takes time for injuries to heal on the inside). But anyway. I'm just here to milk the h/c lol.
We still have a little bit left of the story, at least two chapters that I'm already working on. I haven't decided yet where I'll be ending the story, since the next event that would happen would be Liam showing up. Except, with some of the conversations Emma and Killian had in this story, I don't think the Liam part would follow canon, where Killian would suggest that he didn't deserve saving. Plus, I feel like we as viewers were robbed of a really emotional reunion between Liam and Killian, since Killian blamed himself for Liam's death, and we didn't even get to see Liam's reaction to finding out that Killian became a pirate! That reunion between the Jones brothers could make its own full story. So... I've been toying with the idea of including Liam in here or making a sort of sequel story to see how the Liam addition would be changed after how things progressed in this story and give the boys more of an emotional reunion. Let me know what you guys would like to see ;)
thanks for reading and the next chapter will be up soon! This one was very stubborn so it took a bit longer, but the next chapter is actually written already, and just needs a good editing job. So, expect it sometime this week :)
(And I still think it's funny that I thought this story would cap out at around 20K words hahaha)
~cosette141
Chapter 16
Notes:
Hi guys. This is pretty bittersweet, because I know I promised you at least two chapters more of the story, but this is actually going to be the last chapter. I did have two chapters in the works, but no matter what I did, that direction simply didn't work. It was pretty much a situation where I had the ending in mind since the beginning, but the story just evolved in a different way as it wrote. But I preferred this so much more than what I initially planned, so I hope you like it too:).
So, without further adieu, here is the last chapter of this story, and I hope you guys like it. :)
~cosette141
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Killian opened his eyes.
He blinked a few times, staring at a ceiling that looked somewhat familiar.
Climbing slowly into wakefulness, yet still exhausted, Killian suddenly realized this was the first time in ages he hadn't woken to some horrible nightmare.
He shut his eyes, reveling in the peace.
Peace.
His eyes snapped back open.
It wasn't just the dreamless sleep that brought this feeling of bliss.
He felt no pain.
None.
He blinked, lifting his arm to inspect his hand, looking for the wound from the cell bar. He paused. His arm didn't hurt to lift. His arm didn't hurt to lift. Waking up even more now, Killian stared in quiet awe at his hand.
There was no burn wound. No blood. Anywhere. He quickly touched his chest, smiling when he felt nothing. The hellhound wounds were gone. The fire from the broken ribs, gone.
All of it.
Every injury.
Gone.
Bloody hell.
The relief felt euphoric.
He'd forgotten what it felt like to be without pain.
He wanted to laugh.
Emma must have healed him.
Emma.
His eyes snapped back open, sudden worry slipping into him as memories came rushing back. Of the River, Emma rescuing him, Hades trapping them in the caves…
And even hazier memories of their escape, of the woodland and the Underworld-version of Storybrooke. Very, very briefly he remembered seeing her parents. Blinking at the room, he recognized Emma's old room in her parents' loft; he was lying on her bed, it seemed. Though… he couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. It felt like some sort of dream, the events blurring together in a painful haze.
Killian turned his head, looking for Emma, needing to know it wasn't some sort of dream.
He didn't have to look far.
Because curled into his left side, her face tucked into his neck and shoulder, was Emma.
Killian smiled, the red-hued daylight softly illuminating her. Emma's eyes were shut, her blond locks splayed over his chest, her arm draped loosely over his waist. He could feel her breathe, could feel her steady heartbeat through their touch.
She was safe.
Smiling, more relief washing through him when there was no longer the painful split in his lip, Killian whispered, "Emma." When she just hummed, snuggling deeper into him, he smiled wider, kissing her hair. "Emma, love," he tried again.
Her eyes fluttered open.
Emma blinked sleepily a few times, her fingers mindlessly playing with the buttons on his vest like she often did when she'd fall asleep in his arms watching what she called the Net Flicks. She blinked again, her eyes slowly finding his face. She smiled softly when she saw his eyes open, looking at her. Then, like she broke through a daze, her eyes widened. "Killian!" she breathed, shock and absolute joy breaking out on her face.
"Hey, beautiful," he whispered just as softly, smile growing.
Tears in her eyes, she smiled back, relief and joy radiating from her. She sat up a little, looking over his face, then down to his chest, and back. Her own smile grew. Breathlessly, she whispered, "How are you feeling?"
He grinned. "Bloody amazing," he said, the words honest in every way.
Emma didn't waste a second.
She threw her arms around his neck, tackling him in a hug so tight he could hardly breathe.
He fell back against the pillow, laughing, because it didn't hurt, he didn't hurt, he finally didn't bloody hurt.
"Thank god," she whispered breathlessly over his shoulder, hugging him even tighter. "I'm so glad." He felt something wet hit his shoulder. "Killian, I'm so glad you're okay."
Killian felt tears in his own eyes, and he ran his hand over her hair. "Not as glad as I am that you are, love," he whispered. And he shut his eyes, the feel of her in his arms making more tears sting his eyes, missing her embrace so bloody much. He hadn't felt her—truly, truly her—in so long, his body having been too broken to handle mere touches without agony. Relief like none other washed through him like blissfully cool water.
After a moment, Emma pulled back. She was still laying on him, tears in her eyes, her smile like sunlight. She looks so beautiful when she smiles. Killian simply watched her, mesmerized, seeing her more clearly than he'd been able to for so long. Emma looked back down at his chest, lifting her fingers to trace his shoulder, where the hellhound wounds used to be. It didn't hurt, and it made him smile. "You look so much better," she whispered.
"I'm devilishly handsome again?" he asked with a quirk of his brow.
Emma giggled a little, the sound like giddy relief, and it sounded like music. "You never weren't," she said, brushing her thumb over the side of his face that she had so carefully avoided touching for risk of hurting him. Killian shut his eyes at the feeling. When he opened them, her eyes had a touch of sadness in them. "It was so hard seeing you like that," she whispered, meeting his eyes. "What he did to you… what you went through…"
Memories flashed.
Pain.
Horrible, unbearable pain.
Killian felt a muscle twitch in his jaw, and he nearly had to shut his eyes at the vividness of the memories.
More tears slipped down Emma's cheeks. "You were in so much pain," she whispered. "Killian… I've never heard you sound like that before. I've never heard anyone sound like that before," her breath hitched, and Killian shut his eyes.
If he had looked and sounded as terrible as he had felt... He opened his eyes, seeing a haunted look in hers.
He wished more than anything she hadn't seen him like that.
"Love," he whispered, face falling because Emma never cried, and he couldn't stand to see it. "I'm all right now," he repeated, softer. He sat up a little, still surprised when pain didn't come. He reached for her face, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I'm all right because of you, Emma. I wouldn't even exist right now without you, love. You got us out of there. You saved me," he said softly.
"Only after you had already been…" Her brows crinkled together miserably, another tear falling. "Killian, your back," she whispered brokenly.
Killian stiffened.
He shut his eyes.
Bloody hell.
He hadn't wanted her to see that.
"You said I healed the worst of it in the caves," whispered Emma, voice hitching.
Not sure if his response would help or hurt, he said through a tight throat, "You did."
A broken sound escaped her. She took his hand. "Killian," she choked out, her tortured eyes meeting his. "You have to know that I never would have…" She shut her eyes. "I never would have done what I… what I did to you if I knew you were going to suffer," she whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry."
"Emma," said Killian. Hesitating, he said, "What… happened… to me here," he said unevenly, making Emma's breath hitch. "It isn't your fault, love. Hades didn't hurt me because of anything you did. That…" He nearly shivered at the memory of it. "What I suffered… it was a fate that was waiting for me long before I met you, Emma." Taking a breath, he said, "I used to be a villain." He sighed, his voice taking a resigned sort of tone. "I had to pay for it at some point, love," he whispered, with a smile that held no warmth. He tilted her chin gently, making her focus her eyes on him. "I would have endured that punishment whether you saved my life or not, Emma."
Emma looked at him, a horribly broken look in her eyes, like his response only made her feel worse.
Killian pulled her gently to his chest. She hugged him tightly, like she was making up for all the time she couldn't. Killian's eyes burned, remembering the pain, the agony, so vividly, so terribly. But he wasn't the only one suffering in those caves. Nearly every one of her touches had caused him more pain, and he couldn't imagine how it made her feel. He hated that she had to see him that way.
They held each other, and Killian ran his hand over her hair.
He missed this, missed holding her.
Missed her.
Tears stung his own eyes.
It was her quiet words mumbled into his shoulder that halted his relief in its tracks.
"Do you hate me?"
Killian's eyes shot wide, her small, shaky question stealing his breath. Her fingers ghosted his neck, where the Excalibur wound had been. "Hate you?" he echoed with disbelief, pulling back to see her tortured eyes, unable to meet his. "Emma," he breathed. "How could I ever—"
"How couldn't you?" she whispered. "Killian," she whispered, "I know what you said in the caves, but… I was so selfish. I needed you, I couldn't lose you, and all I thought about was… me," she said, her voice colored with self-loathing, something Killian recognized all too well. "I should have listened to you." Her eyes shut, a tear slipping through her lashes. "Because of what I did, I…" Her breath hitched. "If I had just listened to you, you never would have suffered that curse, and I never would have had to..." Her fingers ghosted his ribs, and Killian shut his eyes at the stark memory of the sword slicing through his body. "I'm so sorry, Killian," she whispered.
His fingers brushing away her tears made her open her eyes, cautiously meeting his. Tears in his own eyes, he swallowed, looking at her just as cautiously when he said, "Emma… if it had been you dying…" He hesitated. "I'm afraid I would have done anything I could to save you. Whether… whether I had your blessing or not," he added, even quieter, his words making her meet his eyes. "I've lost a love before, and… losing her was the most painful thing I'd ever experienced." Milah's fate was still fresh, and he swallowed the emotions as best he could. Brushing away another of Emma's tears, he breathed, "But losing you, Emma? I… I wouldn't be able to bloody handle it." He'd already imagined it, what he would have done in her position, if it had been her dying rather than him.
He'd have gone bloody mad at the thought of losing her.
He watched Milah die before his eyes, powerless to stop it. Even Liam. They'd both died in his arms.
To think of having to watch another person he loved die before him, to watch Emma, no less—
He halted the thought, incapable of going there.
Killian truly didn't know if he could let Emma die the way he asked her to let him.
Emma touched his cheek, tracing his jaw with her fingers, like she was trying to memorize him. "After you…" Emma trailed off, but Killian had no trouble hearing the unsaid words. "You were gone, Killian," she whispered, her breath hitching. Killian closed his eyes, hating the pain in her voice. "You were gone. I had to… to b-bury you," her voice broke, and a chill raced down his spine. "Killian, I couldn't h-handle it."
"Please. You couldn't handle it."
"Perhaps it's you who couldn't handle it."
Killian shut his eyes.
Bloody hell, they'd both been right, even all that time ago.
"You were dead, Killian," whispered Emma, her fingers stilling over his hollow chest. "You are dead," she breathed, her words as quiet as his chest.
Killian's eyes burned.
Emma let out a shaky breath, brushing away her own tears. Taking a breath to steady herself, she met his gaze.
There was something horribly vulnerable, yet determined, in her eyes, like she was trying to strengthen armor that had already weakened too much to protect her. She hesitated, then took his hand, seeming to force herself to speak. "Killian," she whispered. She shut her eyes, like the words on her tongue terrified her. "I want to save you," she whispered, opening her eyes. "I want to bring you back to life. I want to bring you home," her voice hitched a little. He could feel her hand shake in his. She shut her eyes, her voice quieter than a whisper. "But I won't save you if you don't want me to."
Killian's brows shifted, opening his mouth to speak but she continued before he could.
"I didn't listen to you then," she said. She blinked, trying to clear her tears before they could fall, like she was trying to hold onto every ounce of strength she had. "But I… I promise to listen to you now. Whatever you want… I promise I'll listen." She let out a shallow breath, and Killian didn't think he'd ever seen her look so scared. "Killian…. Do you want me to save your life?" she breathed.
Killian blinked.
For a moment, he was taken so aback by the question he was speechless.
Emma saw his hesitation. She shut her eyes, waiting, like she couldn't handle seeing the answer in his eyes.
Then…
Killian gently took her face, and he kissed her.
Emma's eyes shot open with surprise, looking at him with a sort of desperate hopefulness that would have broken his heart if he still had one.
He leaned his forehead against hers, smiling a little, whispering, "Emma, there's nothing that I want more than to live a life with you." His own eyes shut, and he took his own hesitation. "Emma, I love you." Tears stung his eyes. "None of the injuries I sustained hurt more than the thought that I… that I would never see you again." And he flashed back to every moment, lying broken on the floor of his cell, unable to remember the details of her face. Terrified for the day he wouldn't be able to remember her at all. "Emma, all I want is you." He smiled a little, but it held a touch of sadness. He opened his eyes, seeing her eyes a blazing green. "But…" he whispered. "Do you really think, after everything I've done, that I… deserve saving?"
His words made her face crease like they physically pained her. She touched his face, whispering, "Do you think that any of us would be here if we didn't think that?" When he just stared at her, unsure how to even process her words, she said softly, "We've all made mistakes, Killian. Me, my parents, all of us." When he still couldn't find his voice, she said quietly, "No one's perfect, Killian. You deserve a happy ending, too."
Killian held her gaze, unable to hide the confusion and disbelief in his eyes.
Unable to understand how they didn't hate him.
Because he did.
Emma's fingers on his cheek made him look at her.
"Do you want me to save you?" she asked again, voice wavering, her eyes bright with raw hope and fear.
He held her gaze.
And he felt guilt and contempt with himself almost as consuming as the need for revenge against the Crocodile had once felt.
But seeing her here, feeling her, being with her…
Bloody hell, he wanted to be selfish.
She came here for him, she wanted to save him, and damn it he wanted more than anything to let her.
He didn't want to care that he didn't deserve it.
He wanted it.
He wanted to go home.
"Yes," he breathed, holding her gaze just as intensely, wanting her to use that superpower of hers to know he was being purely, completely truthful. "Yes, Emma." His lips twitched. "I want to go with you, love."
But Emma squeezed his hand, her eyes still just as fearful as they desperately searched his for any spec of doubt. "Are you sure?" she whispered.
He smiled. "Aye, love." He kissed her hair, whispering, "Save me."
And for the second time that day, she crushed him in a hug that made him lose his breath. He hugged her back, kissing her head. "I love you, Emma."
"I love you, Killian," she whispered into him.
"Thank you for coming for me, love," he whispered into her hair.
She pulled back, smiling a smile that fell just short of reaching her eyes. "I just wish I knew what it would take to make you believe you deserved it," she whispered.
Killian met her gaze, not wanting to voice that he didn't think there was such a universe where he could. But he knew one thing.
He wanted to.
Bloody hell, did he want to.
Footsteps creaking on the stairs made both him and Emma look up to see Emma's mother appear. When she saw them, her face lit up. "Emma! Killian! You're both awake!" She smiled, rushing over to pull Emma into her arms, hugging her tightly. "Emma," she whispered. "Thank god you slept."
"I'm fine, Mom," mumbled Emma over her mother's shoulder.
David came up the stairs next, smiling at his two girls.
When Snow pulled back, she looked at Killian. She looked him over a little, making him feel slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. "Killian," she said softly, looking back at his face. "You're looking so much better."
Killian smiled a little. "Aye, feeling it too," he said quietly. Reaching his hand to rub the back of his neck with unease, he looked from Emma's mother to her father, remembering with discomfort the last time he'd seen them at the lake. "I'd…" His throat closed a little, and he winced, trying again. "I'd like to apologi—"
He was cut off by a sudden hug, his eyes shooting open.
Snow embraced him, smiling over his shoulder. "Killian, we're just so glad you're all right." She pulled back, smiling a little at the bewildered expression on his face.
"You saved us, Hook," said David, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall with a smile. "It's our turn to save you."
Killian felt absolute shock render him speechless, barely catching Emma's little "See?" expression on her face.
He felt Emma's hand slip in his as Emma's parents started explaining their current plan to get home—something about Regina and Robin searching for the Crocodile and something else a little more concerning about splitting hearts—but Killian felt half lost in the shock of it all, still absolutely stunned that he managed to get any of their forgiveness. That he—Captain Hook—had not only managed to gain friends and a family, but a family that cared about him enough to go to Hell to save him.
He would never—probably could never—understand it.
But he was more bloody grateful for them than he's ever been for anything.
Emma's fingers squeezed his own, and he looked at her, seeing her eyes on him, a smile on her lips.
He couldn't help but return it.
Notes:
a/n: :)
Thank you all for reading and a huge thank you to those who reviewed! You guys honestly made my day every time, so thank you so much ;) This story was so fun to write. I'm sad that it's over, even when it ended up being way longer than I ever thought it would be haha. I hope you guys liked the ending and how it wrapped things up; it took a long time to figure out where to leave the two of them emotionally. ;)
I always planned to end this story around the time that Liam would show up, so I tried to gear the ending, what with killian's lingering guilt, up to that. I do still feel like playing with Liam and Killian's reunion, so I think I still might do a fairly short (though I thought this story was gonna be short so idk about that prediction lol) sequel story on the reunion of the brothers that I think will be better as a standalone than continuing it in this story. I will play with this idea next and if it works out, I'll post it soon!
I have a TON of other Once story ideas, so I'll be sticking around this fandom for quite a while. (I've just discovered Once Upon a Time a few months ago actually haha, so I'm late to the party). I have a few oneshot ideas I'm going to get to work on, and a ton of Captain Swan multichaptered fic ideas, one of which is a little rewriting of how Killian finds Emma in NYC, making it a bit more difficult for him to get her to remember. (I sure do like making life harder for Killian, don't I?). So I hope to have those written and posted very very soon! ;)
Thanks again for reading and coming along for the ride. I'll see you guys around the fandom very soon! :)
**Also, I just posted a deleted scene from this story as its own oneshot, and it's called "A Snowball's Chance". It's a scene that almost took place after Chapter 14 of this story where David and Snow tend to some of Killian's wounds before he's healed on the couch in the loft, and they have an important conversation. I really liked it, but what I did here just seemed to be better for the story to me. But now you can have both! :)
~cosette141
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TiganaSummertree on Chapter 1 Fri 19 Nov 2021 01:11PM UTC
Last Edited Fri 19 Nov 2021 01:11PM UTC
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