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Chapter Text

“He who has health, has hope; he who has hope, has everything,” - Thomas Carlyle

“This is taking too long.  We should have heard something by now,” Emma Swan muttered as she walked over to the drawn curtain of the exam room and peered out into the hallway. It was empty.  Just as it had been the last twelve times she’d checked.

“Perhaps they’re just busy, love,” Killian offered halfheartedly from where he sat, perched on the edge of the exam table, his legs swinging idly. 

“I doubt it,” Emma said over her shoulder. The ER waiting room had been completely empty when they’d first arrived, and there had been only one other occupant in the exam rooms they’d been led past. The delay wasn’t because the ER was busy.  It was because Dr. Whale had taken one good look at Killian as he stopped into the room, lost all the color in his face, then ordered them to hang tonight while the lab ran a bunch of blood tests. 

Killian kept unconsciously rubbing at the spot where they’d drawn all the blood. She imagined needles were not something the Neverland pirate was all that used to.

Emma let the curtain fall closed again. There wasn’t much else to do but continue her pacing across the floor. 

Killian went back to ignoring her and staring dejectedly at the hand he had folded over his hook in his lap. He was still angry at her for bringing him here. Emma couldn’t really fault him for it.  Neither of them had had the best experiences in the Storybrooke hospital. But when an already sick Killian had woken this morning with a strange rash at his hairline, she’d insisted they come in and get it checked out.  The pirate was convinced it was just a cold.  Emma wasn’t so sure.  Killian had been running a high fever for days.  He was listless and out of sorts, and then there was the persistent cough and now the rash.  Emma had never seen him like this before and was definitely not regretting her decision to bring him in, even if it had been kicking and screaming. And especially not after the way Whale had taken one look at him and then rushed out of the exam room before Emma could even start interrogating him. 

“How are you doing?” she asked quietly when a shudder intense enough to shake the entire bed ran through Killian.  He looked up at her with watery, red-rimmed eyes.  There were tiny pinpricks of pink dotting his face where the rash had begun to spread.

“I just want to go home.”

“I know,” Emma soothed. “And you can…” 

Killian perked up as soon as she said it and it broke her heart to continue. 

“...Just as soon as they come back and tell us what the heck’s going on.”  

The pirate’s shoulders slumped back down as he cast his eyes to the floor again. “I’m perfectly fine, Swan.  I don’t need to be here.”

“Don’t want to be here , is more like it,” Emma thought to herself. “Just humor me, ok?” she replied instead, brushing back some of the errant strands of his dark hair that had fallen over his forehead. She could practically  feel the heat emanating from his skin, see the perspiration dotting his brow. Killian closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. He was trembling every so slightly but Emma didn’t dare suggest he lie back down on the exam table.  She’d tried that tactic earlier and the pirate had vehemently refused.  Even now he was tense and uneasy. It made Emma wonder if there would ever be a day when Killian Jones would feel safe here with her, or be able to fully let down his guard. His life had been so difficult for so long… maybe it wasn’t possible.

Shuddering again, Killian reached for Emma. His arms came up to encircle her waist and pull her in closer. She went willingly, wishing she could do something more to help him. Carding her fingers into his sweat-dampened hair, she massaged at the base of his skull, rocking him ever so slightly and hushing soft, soothing nothings into the top of his head. She hated seeing him like this. Killian never got sick, no one in Storybrook ever did, at least not like this, and she was beginning to realize just how much she’d been taking that for granted.

The tension seemed to ease from Killian’s shoulders as they held each other, and his congested breaths evened out into a more natural rhythm.  Emma had never been much good at that whole giving comfort thing, but it was always so easy with Killian.  Like with most things involving her Neverland pirate, it felt like second nature, the easiest thing in the world. Because it was. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking...” Emma mused as she pressed a kiss into his hair.

“A dangerous pastime, I hear,” Killian rumbled beneath her chin. 

Emma smiled. ”I bet if I called over to Granny’s right now I could get her to whip up a batch of that world famous chicken soup of hers. Would you like that?”

She could tell Killian had cracked a smile. “As much as I adore that woman’s cooking, food doesn’t exactly sound all that appealing at the moment.”

“You’ve got to eat something, Killian. It’s been...”

She’d been about to say it had been days since the pirate had had a decent meal, but she never got the chance. The curtain to their small exam room was thrown wide as three nurses dressed in hazmat suits all tried to push into the room at once. 

Emma instantly took up a defensive position in front of Killian. If she’d been carrying her gun, she would have drawn it. 

It was instinct, pure and simple. Protect at all costs. Protect him .  

The three nurses, all male, stopped dead in their tracks. 

“Someone had better tell me what in the hell is going on.”

Chapter Text

“You’re kidding me, right?  Whale, please tell me you’re kidding!” Emma pleaded with the hazmat suited doctor standing before her. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Ms. Swan,” he said sadly. “The tests confirmed it.”

Emma glanced over to the room Killian had been transferred to. He was in the ICU now. Not because he was sick enough to need it, as Whale kept trying to point out to her. He’d been moved there because it was the only place in the small hospital that could accommodate an impromptu isolation ward. The windows to the room had been covered in sheets of plastic, distorting the moving figures within, indistinguishable blue blobs that flitted anxiously around Killian’s bed. It certainly felt like Killian needed the ICU. Especially after what Whale had just told her. 

“So, you’re sure?” she asked again, looking back to the doctor. 

“I am.”

“One hundred percent?”

“Emma, for the last time,” Whale said in a sigh. “He has all the classic symptoms and the lab tests confirmed it. Hook has the measles.”

It was the tenth or maybe even eleventh time Emma had been given this information, yet her brain was still refusing to process it. It seemed utterly impossible, especially considering the town they lived in. 

“How in the world does someone manage to contract a childhood disease like the measles?”

“Very easily, I’m afraid,” Whale replied. “Measles is a highly contagious virus. One of the worst in the world, in fact. That’s why it’s so important we try to contain this early on. And why I initiated hazmat protocols.”

“But this is Storybrooke ,” Emma pointed out. She was talking to Whale at the ICU nurses’ station and had to resist the urge to bang her fist against the counter. “The people in this town don’t get sick like this.”

“And normally I would agree with you,” Whale answered back just as tersely. “And yet… here we are.” He gestured toward Killian’s plastic coated room. “So, I have to ask you again: three or four weeks ago… what was going on?”

Emma tried to keep her cool as she considered how best to answer. It was difficult, considering she wasn’t sure how much she should tell Whale about what they were up to three weeks ago. Most of the residents of Storybrooke were still blissfully unaware of all the dangers Emma and her family constantly saved them from and three weeks ago, they were doing just that. 

Completely fed up with the entire situation, she answered truthfully. “Three weeks ago the town was under a new curse and I was living in New York City with Henry.”

“I remember hearing about that,” Whale said absently, scratching something down in the notebook he had with him. So much for blissful ignorance on the doctor’s part.  “Wasn’t it Jones who traveled to the city to bring you back?”

“It was,” Emma replied, recalling the events of that fateful trip… the kiss Killian had stolen from her when he’d shown up on her doorstep. 

Emma’s fingers drifted up to her lips at the memory. Was he sick even then? 

“I wonder...” Whale was mumbling, pulling Emma from her thoughts. She dropped her hand. 

“What? What are you thinking?”

“That Hook might have been exposed to the virus while he was in New York.”

Emma considered that, the implications. Then a thought dawned on her that made her blood run cold. Suddenly, the hazmat suits and isolation rooms were making a lot more sense. 

She turned her full attention to Whale. “You’re worried the whole town might become infected with this, aren’t you?” 

The doc looked incredibly nervous behind the plastic faceplate of his hazmat suit.

“ Aren’t you ?” Emma repeated. 

Everything was becoming clearer by the minute and the words she said next were heavy on her tongue. “No one brought here by the curse is vaccinated against something like this, are they?”

The blood seemed to drain from the doctor’s face. Added to his already fair complexion, it made for a disturbing confirmation of her fears. 

“Except for you, Henry, and the children born here after the curse, no one in Storybrooke is vaccinated,” he finally admitted. 

“But that means my parents could get this!” Emma exclaimed. “You could get it! Why in the hell was no one ever vaccinated?”

“We never had any reason to think we needed to be!” the doctor shot back. “In the beginning, the curse had us all thinking we were just ordinary people.  Nothing like this ever came up, not even after we woke up and time started moving forward again. If I ever thought for a second that an outbreak like this was possible, I would have started vaccinating everyone right away. I just… it was never anything we thought to worry about.”

“So what you’re telling me is that everyone in Storybrooke could potentially be infected. …With the measles .”

“Why do you think I’m taking so many precautions?” Whale asked. “Hazmat suits aren’t exactly normal protocol for measles outbreaks but I’m not taking any chances. I’m just thankful you’ve been vaccinated. I have a feeling this town is going to need its sheriff before all this is over.”

Emma had nothing to say to that as cold dread began trickling down her spine. What Whale was implying… If the entire town got sick… would she be able to protect them? Would she be able to handle something this huge on her own? Emma wasn’t so sure. Yeah, she was “the savior,” but that could only get one so far. 

And what about the outside world? How could she possibly hope to keep it just that - outside - if the entire town got infected with one of the most highly contagious viruses in human history? Would the CDC descend once word got out? Would she have to try and explain the oddities of this place to people who might not understand? Could she even explain this place in a way that wouldn’t get them all locked up for scientific study? It was enough to make her head hurt. 

And then to top it all off, there was Killian. Her Killian, who was separated from Emma by glass doors and plastic sheeting in a hermetically sealed room, and being subjected to all manner of medical tests and procedures.

“So what’s the plan?” Emma asked finally, unsure of what she should do next but determined to get ahead of this. 

“I’ve put the hospital on lockdown and everyone here is getting vaccinated as we speak. After that we’ll need to start reaching out to the community to see if anyone else is showing any symptoms. We’ll have to use the phones because it can take up to 72 hours for the vaccinations to take effect and we can’t risk sending any staff out into the field right now. I’m also going to need a list of everyone Hook came into contact with over the past three weeks.”

“That’s a lot of people, doc.”

Whale shrugged “They need to be notified immediately and asked to remain in their houses under self-quarantine until we get this figured out. In fact, until we know more, it might be a good idea to lock down the entire town.”

Emma tried to keep her face a mask of calm even as panic started trying to claw its way up the back of her throat. “And what if people are infected? What then?”

It looked as though Whale was attempting to suppress a shudder. “Then the people who are not in need of medical attention stay home and isolated and we go out and pick up the ones who need to be hospitalized.”

“Like Hook?”

Whale shook his head. “Jones isn’t actually all that sick. If these were normal circumstances, I’d be sending you two home. But with an entire town unvaccinated, I can’t risk him being around anyone else. At least not until we have a better idea of what’s happening out there.”

Emma looked over at Killian’s room again. No matter how many times shit hit the fan in this town - or in her life, for that matter - this never got any easier. All she could do was batten down the hatches and try to weather the storm. And this was shaping up to be one hell of a storm. 

“Alright,” Emma said, suddenly determined. “Where do we start?”

Chapter Text

It was hard to believe that Killian wasn’t all that sick when Emma slipped back into his room a few hours later. The nurses had finally cleared out and Killian lay dozing in his hospital bed. The rash that had started out as nothing more than a smattering of pink dots at his hairline was now angry splotches of blooming red over most of his face. But that wasn’t the only change. The nurses had him on oxygen now and a clear plastic nasal cannula snaked its way across his upper lip. He was pale and feverish and shifted in his sleep like he couldn’t quite find a comfortable position. His clothes had been replaced by a horrible patterned gown and Emma found herself missing his normal attire. It seemed entirely unnatural to see him like this.

“Killian?” She called out softly as she came up beside his bed. Machines beeped and displays blinked numbers at her she couldn’t possibly hope to understand. This was the realm of doctors, not cops, and she felt lost. Emma’s only comfort was what Whale had said earlier. Killian is actually not all that sick.

The pirate managed to crack his eyes open slightly just as Emma placed her hands on the bed rails. An eyebrow raised when he finally blinked her into focus.

“Just a precaution,” she replied, answering the question behind his still watery and red-rimmed eyes. She lifted a hand to her face and touched the mask she was wearing. The nurses had insisted. They wanted to send her in in full gown, but Emma had put her foot down at that.

“Are you ill? Have I given this to you?” Killian asked, coming fully awake. He began trying to sit up in bed but Emma pushed him back down gently.

“A precaution for you, dummy. I’m vaccinated against this thing. But that doesn’t mean I can’t pass something else on to you while your immune system is compromised.”

Whale and the nurses had explained some of what Killian might have to go through before he got better, but honestly she didn’t understand half of it - just another reminder of how very far out of her element she really was here. 

“You’re vibrating, Swan.” Killian said with a sly smile. 

“Huh?”

“Your pocket…” he replied, pointing towards her hip. Emma pulled out her phone and was immediately greeted by a photo of her mother.

“Oh.” She sent the call to voicemail and stuffed the phone back into her pocket where it immediately started buzzing again. 

Whale and his team had begun their phone calls to the list of names she’d given them so the cat had to be out of the bag by now. Even so, Emma was determined to stay at Killian’s side for as long as possible - until duty and obligation pulled her away. 

Emma’s mother was the most persistent caller thus far. But besides a few quick texts she’d shot off to the overprotective woman - making sure everyone was ok, telling Snow everything was fine with Killian and that she would be staying at the hospital to coordinate things with the medical staff and watch over him - Emma hadn't really talked to anyone about what was happening. Answering her mother’s call meant having to face it. And facing it meant it was going to become real. For now, at least, Emma was content to consider this all a hypothetical. Nothing more than a nightmare she could wake from at any moment. A conversation with her mother would change all that.

“You need to take that?” Killian asked as the sound of her buzzing phone began to overtake even the drone of the medical equipment.

“It can wait.”

“Emma, I’m not blind…” Killian began but had to pause to cough. His already red face flushed further and he looked up at her with grateful eyes when she offered him a sip from a nearby cup of water.

“Thank you,” he said when he was done and had collapsed back against his pillows.  Emma resisted the urge to ask him if he was okay. She had a feeling she would be asking him that a lot before all this was over, so she put it away for later.

“Look Swan,” Killian continued, though he sounded hoarse. “I know whatever's going on here is important and that you are needed. If you have to go take care of things, then go. I’ll not be responsible for keeping you from your duties.”

“I’m not leaving you, Killian,” Emma said, leaning forward.  

At least, not yet. She knew she would be pulled away eventually. But for now, before things got too crazy, she was right where she needed to be.

Killian closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing absently at the dry patches of red that had begun appearing on his arms. Whale’s list of measles symptoms ran through her head…

Flu like symptoms, high fever, persistent rash, the chance of brain swelling , and any manner of other things she would rather not imagine Killian having to go through. Humiliating things no one should have to experience, especially in a crowded hospital surrounded by nervous strangers perpetually afraid you're the harbinger of the Black Death… she shuddered, but Killian thankfully missed it. His eyelids had begun to droop again.

“I’m sorry, love,” he murmured as Emma ran her fingers down his cheek, thankful there was no latex glove there to separate them. “I’m just so tired.”

“Then rest,” she soothed. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Text

Emma approached the double doors separating the ER from the main part of the hospital and paused.  There were two windows cut into the doors, with thick, steel reinforced glass she could see through, providing her a crisscrossed view of the ER and waiting room beyond. She had been summoned by the nurses who had been left to man the ER entrance and turn away any townsfolk that might get in past the guards they’d stationed outside.  She had stupidly assumed that people would stay away.  That the warning calls from the hospital staff would keep them in their homes.  But if the loud voices and milling crowd visible from the windows was any indication, that had been nothing more than a pipe dream.

Not for the first time, Emma wondered what she was supposed to say to them.  What words she could possibly use to keep them calm.  She didn’t want to lie to anyone.  But everything she came up with sounded horrible in her head: there is a potential outbreak, someone is sick, you need to go home and stay there… but there’s nothing to worry about.  It all sounded so hypocritical and thin.  She sounded like one of those New York politicians she’d always hated so much, trying to spin everything, change the narrative, make it into something it wasn’t.  She never understood why they did it, insisted on keeping things from the public.

Until now.

Emma pulled out her cell and shot off another terse text to Regina, asking the woman, yet again, where in the hell she was. Talking to those people out in the waiting room was a job for the Mayor’s office, not Emma’s. In fact, Regina hadn’t been to the hospital once since all this had started. Their mayor hadn’t exactly been MIA per se, coordinating the town lockdown and call centers with Whale and his team from the comforts of  her posh office at Town Hall. She was doing her job in the technical sense, but Emma was still getting the distinct impression the woman was avoiding her. Regina hadn’t responded to any of her questions about possible magical remedies they could try on Hook or to stop the spread of the disease if there really was an outbreak in Storybrooke. And her calls were continuously being sent to voicemail. It was infuriating, really.

Still wavering on what exactly she was going to tell the people waiting for her on the other side of the doors, Emma sighed and pushed through.  As expected, as soon as everyone realized she had arrived, they surged forward and all started talking at once.

“What’s going on?”

“Why is the hospital closed?”

“Does someone have the plague?”

“Why do we have to stay home?”

“Are we under attack?”

“Is there a new curse?”

“I took off work to come down here. Is someone going to compensate me?”

That last comment came from Leroy and Emma glared over at the former dwarf who flinched a little but held his ground. Several others around him nodded.  Leroy had probably gotten them riled up before she even got there.

“Everyone just calm down.  One at a time, please!” Emma said, putting up her hands.  It took a moment, but the people in front of her did as they were told.  “That’s better.  Now, I can 100% guarantee that there is no new curse.  Storybrooke is fine.”

“If Storybrooke is fine, then why did I get a call from Dr. Whale today asking me if anyone in my family was sick?” A female voice asked from the crowd.  Emma couldn’t see who it was but several other people apparently shared in the questioner’s concerns.

Oh here we go, she thought. Damn you, Regina.

“Dr. Whale and his team realized that not everyone in Storybrooke is vaccinated against all the bugs in this realm.  As a precaution, he’s calling everyone to make sure no one is sick.  After that, we can start making sure the town is protected against any outbreaks in the future.”

“Why’d you shut everything down?” a new voice asked. 

“Like I just said, it’s just a precaution until we can make sure no one in town is sick.”

It seemed to be working.  The townsfolk were putting their heads together and discussing the vague truths Emma had just given them. But it seemed to be because they were actually buying it all.  It was the truth, after all. Or at least partly.  No one needed to know about Killian having the measles.

“Is anyone here because they’re feeling ill?”  Emma asked the crowd.  Most of the people in front of her shook their heads.  “Good, then I need anyone who isn’t feeling sick to please go home and wait for someone from the hospital to contact you. I promise I’ll let you know the moment we have the all-clear.”

“I want to get checked out,” Leroy said, pushing forward through the crowd just as it looked like everyone was about to disperse.

“Are you sick?” she asked him. 

A mischievous glint appeared in the miner’s eye.  “I could be.”

“Leroy, if you’re not sick then you need to go home.  The hospital…”

“I don’t care.  This is an ER and I demand to be seen.  I’m not leaving until I get checked out.” The bearded man plopped himself down into a chair and several of his followers followed suit.  The crowd, thankfully, did not possess the stubbornness of dwarves and finally began to break up.  Emma was about to reprimand Leroy and his cronies when a familiar figure pushed into the ER through the exiting crowd.

“Emma!” Snow White exclaimed, rushing up and grabbing her daughter by the arms.  “I was so worried!”

“M-Mom?” Emma stammered. “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering any of my calls. I came to...” Emma pulled her mother aside and tried to silence her with a warning look.  Leroy was leaning forward in his chair, hanging on their every word. 

“You were coming to help with the call center. That was so nice of you, Mom,” Emma said slowly and deliberately, hoping her mother would catch on.  Snow looked confused for a moment but eventually noticed what Leroy was doing and snapped her mouth shut.

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you where they’re all set up.” Emma steered her mother towards the ER exit by the elbow.

“Hey! What about me!?” Leroy yelled after them angrily.

Emma glanced over her shoulder.  “It’s an ER, Leroy. Wait.”

As soon as the two women were through the double doors and out of ear shot of Leroy and his gang, Emma turned on her mother once more. “Mom, what are you doing here? Are you ok? Is someone sick?”

“Everyone’s fine, Emma! You weren’t answering my calls or texts, and the front desk wouldn’t tell us anything so I left Neal and Henry with your father and came right over.”

“But it isn’t safe here!” Emma exclaimed, completely exasperated with, and yet so incredibly appreciative of the woman in front of her, it made her want to scream. “You need to go home right now.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on, Emma Swan!” Snow snapped back, practically stomping her foot. “Why isn’t it safe? You said everything was fine in your text yesterday!”

Emma glanced around the hall. They were alone, but she still didn’t trust that they wouldn’t be overheard. She grabbed her mother by the elbow and pulled her into what turned out to be an unused conference room. 

“I told you,” Emma said once the door clicked shut. “Killian is sick.”

“You didn’t tell me anything,” Snow shot back. “You sent me a vague text about Killian being admitted and that was it. Why are there call centers being set up and hospital staff calling people and telling them to stay home? What is going on here, Emma!?”

Swan wanted to lie, to perhaps spare her parents a fight for once, but the Charmings were a force of nature. Emma knew no matter what she said to her mother next, the woman would inevitably find out the truth, and demand to be involved. She really didn’t see any other option than to be completely transparent.

Emma let out a breath. “Killian has the measles.”

Snow blinked at her.

Emma sighed again. “You know… The Measles. The kind we vaccinate our kids against because it was such a nasty bug.”

“The measles,” Snow repeated as if testing the words. Emma nodded. “How in the world did he get the measles?”

“Whale thinks he might have picked it up in New York when he came to get me.”

“So Hook never had it as a child?” Snow asked.

Emma shrugged. “Apparently not.”

“I didn’t think adults could catch childhood diseases like that!”

“Neither did I,” Emma said, hating the fact that she’d needed to become an expert on the illness practically overnight. “But apparently they can.” And having it as an adult was dangerous , too. The symptoms more life threatening the older you got. And so much worse than she ever could have imagined, but she left that part out. 

“And Hook was never vaccinated?” Snow was asking her. 

“Apparently not,” Emma replied, feeling a bit like a broken record. 

Snow chewed her lip for a moment before her eyes went wide. “Are… are any of us vaccinated?” 

There it was. Her mother was finally beginning to understand.

Emma shook her head. “The only people Dr. Whale thinks are safe are me, Henry, and all the kids born in Storybrooke after Regina's curse.”

Snow looked stricken. “So… this is bad.”

“Yes, mom, it’s bad. And that’s why you need to go home right now and keep an eye on yourself and Dad. Neal is all up to date on his vaccinations so he’s safe, but you two aren’t.”

“Emma, people need to know about this.”

“I know. Believe me. As soon as Whale and his team confirm there’s an outbreak, we’ll make an announcement. For now, Killian is the only one who’s sick.”

“Oh Emma,” her mother said softly, placing her hand on one of Emma’s folded arms. It was warm and reassuring.  “How is he?”

“Ok for now,” she answered as more of a question than an answer. “Or at least that’s what they tell me. He’s tired and his fever is pretty high.”

“I’m going to stay.”

“You can’t. Seriously mom, it’s not safe.”

“I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

I’m used to it , almost escaped past her lips but she stopped it. That was the answer the old Emma Swan would have given. She wasn’t that woman anymore. That independent orphan with no family and nothing to lose. “I won’t be alone. I’ve got an entire hospital full of highly trained medical professionals and plenty of work to keep me busy. I’ll be ok.”

Emma could see the war raging inside of her mother’s mind, the maternal parts of herself locked in an epic battle of which child she had to protect more at the moment. It was easy to see the moment Snow White decided that child was the helpless baby waiting for her back at home.

“I promise I will keep you updated.”

“No more ignoring my calls?”

“Cross my heart.” Emma promised. “The second I know anything, you’ll be the first call I make.” 

She met her mother’s eyes, noting the uncertainty and fear still lingering in them. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’m going to be fine. I can’t catch this thing. So if you’re going to worry about anyone, worry about Killian. And maybe our town. If we’re facing an outbreak…” 

Emma couldn’t even finish the thought.  And thankfully, she didn’t have to. Her mother understood and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

It was a very long time before either woman let go. 

Chapter Text

The methodical whirls and clicks of the machines in Killian’s room were hypnotic. Emma hadn’t even bothered to turn on the TV, though the hazmat suited nurses making their rounds through Killian’s room every hour or so kept suggesting she do so. Emma quite enjoyed the quiet, if she was being perfectly honest. It gave her time to think, to measure each struggling breath her slumbering pirate took, and to make sure they never faltered.

Despite Whale’s promise that Killian wasn’t all that ill, he seemed to have taken a turn for the worse over the course of the past few days. This was day three of his imposed isolation and Whale was not taking any chances. Little wires sprouted out of the top of Killian’s hospital gown and skittered off across the blankets to disappear into the monitors beside his bed. Multiple IVs had been strategically placed on the underside of Killian’s arms to avoid taping over the dark hair that was just as thick on his forearms as it was on his chest. His other arm was sans hook and his brace discarded on a counter across the room. There had even been talk of replacing his nasal cannula with an oxygen mask, but so far that had not made an appearance. Just as well. Emma already had had enough to worry about.

Managing a potential measles outbreak from a hermetically sealed isolation room with a town Mayor who was ducking her calls was hardly ideal, but she was making the most of it. Or forcing everyone else to make the most of it, anyway. One agonized look from Killian through those red rimmed eyes of his and Emma knew she wasn’t going anywhere. She was determined not to leave his side unless absolutely necessary. She had her cell phone and laptop and she and Whale had come to a tenuous arrangement on how they would handle things. The doc kept her apprised of everything that was happening and Emma kept her opinions on how he and Regina should run this potential crisis to herself, along with fielding the occasional call from a concerned citizen. That seemed to ease Whale’s staff immensely. They seemed to be worried there would be another ER incident. But so far, everything had been relatively quiet.

Emma glanced over at Killian. His face was flush with fever and blotches of red rash, but underneath his skin was pale. A complexion no self respecting pirate would ever allow. One that spoke of long days indoors without the aid of salty sea air or a brilliant sun. 

Did he miss that life, she wondered? Was it wrong of Emma to want him here? His feet planted firmly on dry land? Or was she just fooling herself into thinking that Killian Jones could ever love anyone as much as he loved the sea? The ocean was his first, great love and Emma noticed the long hours he spent at the docks just looking out across the water. 

She understood a longing like that. The all consuming ache for a thing that still called to you, even after you decided to give it up or tried to convince yourself that you didn’t want it anymore.

Or perhaps her pirate was as fickle as those waves he claimed he didn’t miss all that much?  Following the currents wherever they might take him, waiting for the next big plunder. 

Was that all Emma was to him? A conquest? An adventure? A new figurehead for his ship? 

No, those were just her own insecurities talking; the stress and the worry over how bad this could get making her think irrationally. Killian had proven to her time and time again that he loved her. Even though she’d never said it back, or even acknowledged that she probably loved him back. He’d given up his ship for her, for goodness sakes. And if that wasn’t commitment and a declaration of “I’m yours till the end of time” then Emma didn’t know what was. 

He got the measles coming to save her. You didn’t do that for someone you didn’t care for. Right?

It was still so hard for Emma to accept that she was capable of love (or being loved, for that matter). She had spent so much of her life putting up barriers and protecting her heart. Determined to never get hurt again, though it kept happening, again and again. But those defenses had been necessary. Life as an orphan had never been easy and so it was a natural way for her to survive. Cut herself off. Put up walls and then defend them to the death. Killian Jones was attempting to scale those walls, hook and all… and she was letting him. Because, despite his best efforts at proving Emma and the rest of the world otherwise, he was a good man. A kind man. Loving. Incredibly selfless and impossibly romantic.

And she was falling for him.

“No… please… stop…” Hoarse whispers separated Emma from her thoughts as Killian began moving fitfully beneath his sheets. The long fingers of his remaining hand twitched reflexively and soon he was reaching out with it. Some fever-fueled nightmare had taken over his dreams and Emma immediately grabbed for the hand he had lifted from the bed. The pirate’s skin was hot to the touch and felt paper thin as Emma enveloped his hand with her own.

“It’s ok,” she said quietly, brushing sweaty hair away from his temple. “You’re alright. It’s just a dream.”

She half expected the pirate to wake then, but he just released a shaky breath and finally settled back into his pillows. He was visibly shivering now so Emma moved in to re-cover the restless captain with the blankets. She stood there for a long while, wondering if this was as bad as it was going to get, or if they were in store for so much more.  Killian looked so sick already.

This had to be as bad as it was going to get… Right?

Chapter Text

Emma wasn’t sure how long she stood there holding Killian’s hand, her laptop and the work she was doing forgotten on the table behind her.  It was hard to keep track of time without access to windows. She usually just went by the clock attached to the wall above the entrance to Hook’s room, or the occasional glance at her phone. Half the time she wasn’t sure if it was AM or PM. Her body could usually tell, though, a bone-deep weariness taking her over whenever she pushed herself too far. 

Between Killian and the town lockdown, Emma was beyond exhausted. And the sicker Killian got, the more time she seemed to spend in the chair beside his bed, just holding his hand and soothing him through the worst of it. She was still holding his hand when movement at the door caught her attention. The blowers outside the room went off, signaling the arrival of a visitor. Even though thick plastic distorted her view, Emma could tell something was different about this one. There was no bulky hazmat suit impeding the visitor’s efforts at accessing the room, for one thing.

“What are you doing here?”

“How nice to see you too, Ms. Swan,” Regina replied haughtily. The austere mayor of their little town was dressed in a smart business suit and looked immaculate, not a hair out of place. A far cry from Emma’s crumpled clothes, makeup-less face, and messy ponytail. 

Emma dropped Hook’s hand. “What’s happening? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just…” Regina paused, several different emotions warring in her eyes all at once, as if she couldn’t decide which one to settle on. “...I wanted to stop by and see how Hook was doing.”

So Regina had decided on compassion. Had this been any other day, or if Emma hadn’t been so damn exhausted, she might have actually appreciated the effort. Today she could have cared less. “You didn’t seem too interested in his condition before. Why the sudden change of heart.”

Regina’s eyes softened ever so slightly. “Look Emma, I didn’t want to respond to your questions about a possible magical cure for Hook until I knew for certain if I could help or not.”

“And?” Emma knew she was being short with Regina, but the woman’s mere presence in the room with her was beginning to grate on her nerves.

“And there doesn’t appear to be anything I can do.”

Emma regarded the former Evil Queen heavily, holding her gaze until the other woman finally looked away. “I don’t believe you.”

Regina’s eyes snapped back up and Emma could have sworn she saw the faintest flicker of orange flame. “Well, I don’t really care if you believe me or not. I haven’t been able to locate any spell or potion that will work.”

Emma had to force herself not to take an aggressive step forward. “So, you mean to tell me that the most selfish, self-centered, self-preserving woman I have ever had the unfortunate pleasure of knowing, has no spell to protect herself from getting sick? I find that very hard to believe.”

Regina was angry now. Emma could see it in her posture and the stony eyes that were staring back at her from over Regina’s mask.  “Believe what you want, Ms. Swan, but I’m telling you the truth. I’ve looked for magical remedies for illnesses in this realm before.”

“What do you mean?”

“With Henry,” Regina replied, hurtling their son’s name at her with enough force to hurt. “He had the croup so bad one time I even brought him to this place,” she said, gesturing around Killian’s room. “He was constantly sick during those early years, and I tried every single magical remedy I could find. None of them worked.”

“I can cure every illness that plagued us in the Enchanted Forest, but the diseases here just don’t respond to my magic the same way.”

Emma was surprised to find that she actually believed Regina, even in her exhausted and irrational state. She was about to start grilling the mayor on everything she had found when the blowers outside Killian’s room went off yet again.  A hazmat suit free Dr. Whale shuffled in a few moments later.

“Where’s your suit?” Emma demanded, chastising herself almost immediately. Whale hadn’t done anything wrong and he certainly didn’t deserve her ire. Not with how helpful he’d been through all this.

“I let everyone take them off,” Whale explained proudly, clearly smiling behind the surgical mask he still wore. If he noticed Emma’s tone he didn’t let it affect him.

“I assume this means we are out of the woods?” Regina asked.

“The vaccinations I administered to everyone three days ago have had time to take effect and no one is showing any signs of symptoms. In fact, not a single person in Storybrooke is.”

“Oh thank god,” Emma said, wanting nothing more than to collapse back into her chair, but resisting the urge. “So no outbreak, then?”

“It would appear we have dodged a bullet,” Whale said.

Relief flooded Emma’s system, lifting some of the weight that had been hanging over her, pulling her down ever since Killian had been moved to the ICU and Whale had given his diagnosis. For once, this wasn’t going to turn into some catastrophic event, some life or death fight where the people she loved died and Emma had to shoulder the burden, because she was The Savoir , or whatever.

“Does this mean I can reopen downtown and the schools?” Regina asked.

Whale seemed to consider her question for a moment. “We haven't found a single Storybrooke citizen showing signs of having the measles. While I would always prefer to err on the side of caution with things like this, I have a feeling no one in town needs to worry about catching this thing, or anything similar to it, for that matter.”

Whale’s comment got Emma’s attention. “You sound like you might have a theory there, doc. What are you thinking?”

Whale scratched at part of his cheek not covered by mask. A dusty blond beard had taken over the lower half of his face as if he hadn’t been home to shower or get in a decent shave in quite some time. And she was probably right. “Well, like you said, it’s just a theory. It might be nothing...”

“Out with it already, Dr. Whale,” Regina demanded, checking her watch and clearly itching to leave.

“Well,” Whale began again, hesitating slightly. “It’s about the curse.”

“I’m listening…” Emma said, the same time Regina muttered an impatient, “Yes?”

“I think our town line does more than just keep us isolated from the outside world.”

“Go on...” Emma prodded.

“Think about it,” Whale continued, looking almost excited. “All the residents of this town are from different realms, right? We never had things like vaccinations in the Enchanted Forest, and yet, Storybrooke has never had a single disease outbreak of any kind. Ever. Before, when we were all frozen in time, I might have been able to explain all that away. But now? Even if we all built up natural immunities to most of the diseases they have here, there still should have been some kind of epidemic at some point in this town, especially with the number of outsiders who’ve stumbled onto our town over the years. It should have only been a matter of time. But nothing ever happened.”

“Until now,” Emma finished for him.

“Until now,” Whale repeated. “Hook is the only variable here that doesn’t make sense.”

“But maybe he does,” Emma added, an idea suddenly dawning.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, Killian wasn’t part of the original curse…”

“He wasn’t?” Whale’s asked, appearing surprised by that information.

“Your mother brought him here after the fact,” she said, turning to address Regina.

“So any protection the barrier around town and my curse affords us might not apply to the Captain.”

“That’s what it sounds like to me.”

“But there are other people in Storybrooke who were not a part of my original curse. Are we sure all of them have been checked for signs of infection?” Regina asked Whale.

“I imagine so, but if someone can get me a list of names, I can have the call center folks make sure they’ve all been checked on.”

“Good plan,” Emma said, letting in a little of the hope that had been nudging at her defenses ever since Whale walked into the room. It was quickly squashed, however, when a moan from the bed behind them had Dr. Whale pushing past her and approaching Killian’s side. He spent several moments taking in the readings on the monitors and then using a stethoscope to listen to the pirate’s chest.

“I’m going to head out,” Regina said quietly, touching the side of Emma’s arm ever so slightly. “I’ll prepare that list of names for Dr. Whale and coordinate lifting the lockdown. I really am sorry, Emma.”

But before Emma could press Regina one last time on her apparently fruitless efforts at finding a cure for Killian, she was out the door and Whale was calling her over.

“How is he?” she asked anxiously, not liking the look on the doctor’s face one bit.

Whale pulled the scope out of his ears and let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll need to run some tests, but I don’t like what I’m hearing.”  Emma’s blood ran cold. “Do you remember when I told you some of the side effects he could be facing?”

Emma nodded.

“Do you remember which one I said I was most worried about?”

Emma could barely breathe, but she forced a word out anyway. “Pneumonia.”

Whale had to look away and didn’t say anything else after that.

Chapter Text

One of the perks to living in a town where no one ever got sick was that Emma never really had to develop much of a bedside manner. Most of the people she visited here were in the hospital because of some physical injury and she’d only really had to visit with them in her capacity as town sheriff.  A quick statement and then it was back to the office. A hasty retreat back to her own space to either file a report or start tracking down a suspect. She’d never had any real need to linger before, so she was finding it extremely difficult to do so now. 

Nothing happened quickly in the ICU where Killian was still being held. The plastic stayed up, turning the visiting nurses behind it into nothing more than shapeless blobs as they waited for the air scrubbers to do their thing and the pressure to stabilize. Killian lingered in his fevered dreams, rarely waking except to crack open his red-rimmed eyes when someone came in to take his vitals, which happened a lot. Even his pneumonia took its time, creeping up on the pirate as slowly as the readings on his monitors began to fall.

Emma did her best to keep busy during those long hours of waiting, but not even a backlog of paperwork or visits from the nurses was enough to keep the restlessness away. She wasn’t used to being so goddamn helpless. And it wasn’t like she could go and burn off her nervous energy by tracking down whoever had done this to her lover and make them pay. Killian’s adversary was microscopic and it was slowly trying to kill him from the inside out.

Whale and his staff were putting up a valiant effort in that department. Killian was being given more medications than Emma could keep track of and there was a constant stream of nurses through his room keeping track of his vitals. She imagined it was because Killian was likely the only patient they had in the ICU, but she was glad for the attention all the same. It meant he was being taken care of. Was somewhat safe in case anything decided to go wrong. That was the only reason Emma allowed herself the chance to rest during those elusive moments when they were left alone. Her hand never strayed far from Killian’s, though he’d long since stopped moving, even when he dreamed. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to give any sign of what he might be going through, zooming back and forth beneath their lids as he fought off the nightmares plaguing him.  At least, as Dr. Whale had promised her, he wasn’t in any pain.

To pass the time, a nurse had left a basin of tepid water and a cloth on the rolling table near Killian’s bed and Emma whiled away some of the hours gently mopping the pirate’s fevered brow with room temperature water. His fever had been lingering at 103 for the longest time, despite the medical staff’s best efforts. 

“This is getting a little ridiculous,” she found herself muttering half to herself and half to an unconscious Killian countless hours later. “You better start getting better or I’m going to throttle you myself.”

“Is that… a promise?” Emma snapped her head up and was delighted to find an awake Killian looking back at her. His eyes were heavily lidded, and thoroughly bloodshot, but they were open.

“You’re back,” she said, a stupid grin taking over her face.

“Aye, love.” Killian’s voice was all kinds of hoarse but Emma hardly cared. He was awake and alert and talking. That was all that mattered. 

Emma discarded the cloth she’d been using to mop Killian’s brow and then reached over to capture his hand in hers yet again. This time he squeezed back. Something he hadn’t done in days.

“What happened?" he asked her next.

“You don’t remember?”

The pirate seemed to ponder the question for a moment before shaking his head. Emma swallowed down a sudden surge of panic. Killian was still really sick. Some confusion after days of high fevers had to be normal, right? 

“You’re in the hospital,” she explained, rubbing soothing circles into the back of the pirate’s hand with her thumb. “I brought you in five days ago because of that fever and the rash you had. Remember?”

Killian was apparently trying to. He closed his eyes again as his brow furrowed. He stayed so still for so long, nothing but the sound of wheezing filling the air, that Emma worried he might have fallen asleep again.

“I’m ill?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“You have the measles.”

“Measles?” he asked, so breathless it made Emma’s own lungs burn.

“It’s some disease the kids in this realm used to get. Whale thinks you might have picked it up when you came to New York to save Henry and me,” she explained, trying desperately to keep the worry out of her voice. “It's mostly gone now, thanks to vaccinations, but people do still get it sometimes. Even adults.”

Killian didn’t respond, just spent the next few moments pulling in as much air as his congested lungs would allow, which wasn’t much. His exhales fogged up the oxygen mask that had replaced the cannula a day or so ago. The fact he hadn’t tried to play around with it, or take it off his face entirely, was a testament to just how poorly he must be feeling, Emma figured. The whole process looked exhausting.

Emma squeezed Hook’s hand harder, cursing the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes.

“Killian?” she said, wanting nothing more than to look into those impossibly blue eyes of his just one more time before he drifted off again.

“Aye, love…”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Something I can do to make you feel better?”

Emma watched as Killian struggled to open his eyes again, granting her wish. Adjusting his hand so that their fingers were now intertwined, he smiled softly at her from under his oxygen mask. “The only thing I need, Emma,” he began, pausing between words to pull in another wheezing breath, “is right here already.”

The declaration seemed to sap Killian of whatever strength he had left and his eyes slipped closed yet again. A moment later his congested breaths evened out as well and the tension in his hand released. Emma unthreaded their fingers and sat back in her chair.

Long hours in the hospital with little sleep were finally catching up with her and Emma Swan began to cry. It wasn’t something she often let herself do, another layer of protection from when she was a child, but tears were known to happen. And especially since arriving in Storybrooke. 

Emma let out a mirthless chuckle as she rubbed the end of her nose with a sleeve. So many years of trying to keep the people of this town at arm's length, and for what? Just to let her guard down and let one grumpy pirate in around past her defenses? 

Emma was going soft. Losing those hard edges of herself that had been so integral to her survival for so many years. Killian and this place were whittling her away. Changing her. Carving her into something new… and she was letting them. Discovering that she kind of didn’t care. That she wanted it to happen. 

Who ever could have imagined that Emma Swan could become so soft?

“Liam…” Emma heard Hook mutter and she glanced over to find his head rolling back and forth across his pillow.

“Shhh,” she soothed, rising from her chair and gently brushing the side of his fevered face with her knuckles. It was still so unnerving to actually feel how hot he was. Like he was burning from the inside out. “It’s alright, I’m right here Killian. It’s just a dream.”

“Liam,” he cried out again, though Emma wasn’t sure she could really describe it as a cry. More like a hoarse whisper.  She watched in despair as a single tear escaped the corner of the pirate’s eye and rolled down to disappear into the pillow beneath his head. Not sure what do, but desperate to give Killian some kind of comfort, she grabbed his hand again and held on for dear life, pressing her lips to his knuckles in a kiss damp with her own tears. He was trembling now, his movements shaking the bed enough that Emma could feel it through the hip she had pressed against the bed rails.  He was shivering, she realized, and she distracted herself for a few minutes by searching for another blanket.

“Pan… no…” Emma’s heart broke as she returned to his side. 

“I’m going to get you through this, Killian” she declared to the unconscious pirate once the blanket was adjusted and tucked up under his chin. “You’re going to be just fine.”

Emma couldn't help but notice how pale Killian’s seemed now. So pale, in fact, that it was difficult to tell where his flesh ended and the hospital sheets began. She couldn’t imagine it had been long enough to note any actual physical change, but Emma could have sworn Killian looked thinner, too. Maybe it was the fact she’d barely ever seen him in anything other than his leathers.  Or his sallow complexion, still blotchy skin, and the dark circles beneath his eyes playing tricks on her, but Hook seemed… less substantial somehow, as though he were wasting away right before her very eyes.

But that didn’t matter, because Emma was going to be strong enough for the both of them. Killian really was going to be ok because Emma wasn’t going to have it any other way. She would move heaven and earth to make Killian well again, even if she had to turn to magic to do it, Regina be damned. Measles wasn’t about to take the love of her life away from her. She wasn’t about to let some childhood disease turn her life upside down.

No way in hell.

Chapter Text

As hard as Emma tried to hold to her promise that she would get Killian through his illness, the pirate’s condition continued to deteriorate until one afternoon Whale approached her with a terrifying prospect. Her mother was visiting as well, sitting in a chair on the other side of Killian’s bed when the weary looking doctor entered the room.

“You want to do what now?” Emma asked incredulously once Whale was done explaining the details of his plan.

“It’s just to give his lungs a little break. Hook is expending an extraordinary amount of energy just trying to get enough oxygen and it's beginning to tax his system. We need to intubate him and give his body a break and the antibiotics some time to work. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it would help him.”

“You want to… intubate him,” Emma repeated, trying the word out for herself and deciding she didn’t care for it one bit. “Stick a tube down his throat so it can breathe for him?”

“I know how scary that sounds,” Whale began and Emma had to hold back the hysterical shriek threatening to overtake her. Scary was an understatement. Scary was the fever induced nightmares Killian was dealing with or the impossible warmth of his skin. Scary was how still he’d become over the past few days.  The very idea of Killian… on life support was something else entirely. A whole different level. Something she couldn’t even find a word for.  

“But I really do believe this is the best thing for him right now,” Whale finished.

Emma glanced over to Killian and where he lay in his hospital bed, fighting for each and every breath. Even his eyes were still beneath their lids now. 

Snow got up from her seat, her chair making a loud noise as it scraped across the tile. She came to stand behind Emma's chair, right near her left shoulder. A warm and encouraging hand came to rest there and Emma reached up to cover it with her own.

“Is it bad?” Snow asked.

“Well, it’s not good,” Whale offered back weakly.

“Could this kill him?”

“Like I said before, Hook needs some help getting the oxygen his body needs to function and fight off the virus. All we’re doing is giving him a little boost in that department.”

“But you didn’t answer the question,” Emma said, finally finding her voice. “Will this kill him? It's not like in the movies… He’ll come off it, right?”

Whale sighed, his tired eyes softening where he regarded Emma over the top of his mask. “Nothing is ever 100% certain, as you well know, Sheriff .” The emphasis Whale added to her official title was not lost on Emma who suddenly felt a million years old. As if she had been in that hospital room long enough that she had finally fossilized and would remain a permanent fixture there in her chair beside Killian’s bed for the rest of eternity. Her sorrow etched into the stone for all to see…

“One of the nurses will be in in a few minutes to help me get prepped. I’m not going to kick you out, but you might not want to stick around for this next part. It’s not an easy thing to watch.”

In the end, it was decided that it would be best for Emma and Snow to leave and she suddenly found herself sitting in a small cafeteria she had no idea even existed with a cup of coffee being pushed into her empty hands. Emma took the cup automatically and raised it to her nose, pulling in a lungful of the unmistakable aroma of freshly brewed coffee. She closed her eyes, willing the warmth to seep out through the sides of the cup and into her hands. She was always so cold these days. Almost as if Killian’s body were absorbing all the heat in the room, rather than radiating it out as he burned with fever. 

Emma was almost ashamed to be sitting here, enjoying something so trivial as a cup of coffee. It felt like a betrayal of some kind. Especially considering what they were doing to Killian up in the ICU at that very moment.  

Emma set the cup of coffee down and suppressed a shudder.  One of her mother’s small hands appeared on her forearm. “It’s going to be ok, Emma,” she said, patting the arm lightly. “I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” Emma replied, feeling entirely defeated. “You couldn’t possibly know that.”

Emma felt worn out and stretched thin and about two seconds away from leaving her mother at that table, heading over to Regina’s and demanding the Evil Queen come up with something that might heal Hook. And if she still claimed there was nothing to be done, then Emma would take what she needed and figure it out on her own.

“But I do,” her mother was saying and Emma pulled herself out of her thoughts to look up at Snow. “Think about it,” she went on.  “This is Storybrooke, Emma. Do you really think Captain Hook’s story ends with him dying in a hospital of the measles of all things?”

Emma considered her mother’s declaration for a moment. While she was fairly certain that Snow White, the perpetual ball of enthusiasm and hope that was her mother, was just trying to lighten the mood. But her idea did have some merit. Captain Hook on life support was just absurd. This was a town full of fairytales and magic. How ridiculous would it be if a reformed villain like Captain Hook ended up wasting away from some childhood disease he picked up in another realm? No epic adventure ever ended like that. It just wasn’t something that happened. 

Killian wasn’t going to die. They would pull another happy ending out of the hat if it was the last thing Emma did. She was going to save Hook, no matter the cost. A close call and a daring rescue. Now that sounded a bit more like an ending worthy of Storybrooke.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed by Emma in a blur. The entire community seemed to have gotten wind of Killian’s predicament and just how precarious it was and there had been a steady stream of people trying to visit him. Most were turned away. Some left flowers or gifts for Emma before they left. Magazines, crossword puzzles, sudoku, even one of those children’s toys where you had to maneuver little metallic balls into shallow depressions and get them all to stay. Such a gift might have offended Emma had the small trinket not obviously been handmade and exquisitely carved into soft wood. She also had a pretty good idea who had made it.

Killian’s room, despite being overrun by nurses half the time, remained quiet. People walked around like they were on eggshells, careful not to upset the delicate balance that had somehow descended on the room. Killian seemed to be balancing on the edge of a knifepoint, not getting any better but also not getting any worse as fever gripped his body and infection raged. It felt like even the slightest of miss-steps might send him tumbling over the wrong side of that blade. Seeing him completely still except for the mechanical rise and fall of his chest as a ventilator pushed air into his lungs was all kinds of wrong. Hook connected to any type of machinery was just wrong. He seemed completely out of place in a hospital room, hooked up to machines and lost in a sea of wires, tubes, and blankets. Where he belonged was in his quarters on the Jolly Roger or with Emma at home. Every once in a while she got this irrational urge to suggest to Whale that they do just that, move him somewhere more familiar, more comfortable. But then the rational part of her brain would kick back in and remind her Hook was exactly where he needed to be. 

Emma did her best to keep herself busy during those long hours of waiting, but most times she found herself just staring at the unconscious pirate. They had some apparatus holding the ventilator tubing in place so Emma couldn’t see much of his face, but she watched it all the same, looking for any signs of movement, willing his eyes to start fluttering as he regained consciousness.  Hell, she’d give just about anything to see Killian thrash about in his sleep in the grips of some nightmare like he used to. Anything to cut through the impossible stillness that seemed to have taken over his body. Machines whirled and clicked, the IV at his bedside dripped round after round of medication into his system and yet nothing seemed to change. 

How did it come to this?  A week ago Killian had been standing in the middle of her office, making her laugh with some tall tale of his pirating days and the shenanigans his crew had gotten into. Killian’s own laugh, while hardly something he gave away lightly, was downright otherworldly. The light that would spring up into his eyes every time he smiled, indescribable… yet these were the things Emma was struggling to remember as the hours turned into days and days threatened to stretch into weeks. When Killian woke up (and he would wake up) Emma was never letting him out of her sight again. And there would be no more trips to New York, unless, of course, they wanted to deal with Chicken Pox next.

It was a rare occasion when Emma left the hospital. She went home only when it was absolutely necessary. Her dad took over for her at the station, checking in every day after his shift was over. They were on the verge of developing a routine as Killian’s condition remained unchanged. David would bring dinner by the hospital and update her on everything that had been happening since she’d been away. Storybrooke’s memory was short and people had already nearly forgotten that she’d ever put the town on lockdown for a few days there. Everyone just wanted to know how Killian was doing. Always Killian. Unfortunately, David and Emma never had much else to tell them except for he’s still the same.

“Leroy stopped by today,” Emma informed Killian one random Wednesday as they sat together in the pirate’s still hermetically sealed hospital room. Had Emma been looking at a calendar she might have realized that it was exactly 3 weeks to the day since Hook had been admitted to the hospital. 

The bedrails were down and Emma was idly tracing figures into Killian’s wrist with a fingertip. The rash that had been covering nearly every inch of his skin was fading now, the red blemishes little more than pink raised patches of color. It was the only thing on Killian that had changed. He was still in a coma, still hooked up to machines and IVs, but at least that one tiny change had given Emma one small thing to cling to. 

“He thinks you've been cursed. He wants to form a mob to go find Regina and see if she’s behind it all. I told him he’s nuts, but my dad is keeping an eye on him all the same. And speaking of my dad, apparently he had to take my car in to get the muffler replaced. Did you know we have a mechanic in Storybrooke? ‘Cause I sure didn’t. Her name is Audrey, apparently, and I guess she’s some kind of prodigy.”

Emma released Killian’s hand and looked up. Her eyes immediately darted to his, wishing for the millionth and a half time that they might be open when she looked. But, like the million and a half times she’d played this game before, Killian’s eyes remained closed. The dark pools beneath them appeared to have deepened, if that was even possible, and Emma found herself looking away again. In fact, she let her head fall as she recaptured the pirate's hand and tried to pretend like she wasn’t dangerously close to the end of her rope. Exhaustion made her shoulders shake, fear and helplessness filled her eyes to the brim until they were spilling over and splashing down into her lap. She’d lost track of how many times she’d cried since Killian had been put on the ventilator.

“Ms. Swan?” Dr. Whale called out softly, entering the room and placing a hand on her shoulder. Emma no longer possessed the energy left to even acknowledge him. There was just nothing left she had to give.

“Emma,” Whale said instead, crouching down beside her so he was at eye level. “There’s something we need to talk about."

Chapter Text

He clings to the wheel, desperately holding on for dear life as wave after wave crashes into the side of his ship. Wind as fierce as a hurricane, rain as painful as a lash.  He puts all his strength into keeping her steady, but it's difficult.  Lightning forks across the clouds. Thunder so loud it vibrates the very deck boards beneath his feet threatens to crack open the sky. Waves as tall as houses sweep away everything on deck, save for the Captain. Killian can sense there is more to this storm than just Mother Nature. Can feel in his bones that this is more like a fight for survival. A test.

There have been so many tests in his life. Let’s tear you away from your father and see if you can survive. Here, let’s tether you to a sadistic pirate named Blackbeard and see how you fare. Do you love your brother, Killian Jones? We’re so glad. Now let us take him away from you and see how it goes.

So many tests and he’s tired of them. Tired of being thrown head first into the thick of things and expected to just survive. He’s done so on blind luck so far. But is it going to be enough?

Lightning cuts a path across the sky, illuminating the angry sea around him just long enough for Killian to spot a massive wave headed his way. He readjusts his hand and hook on the wheel, then thinks better of it and wraps his arms around it instead.  The wave hits and Killian is swallowed up by an enormous wall of water. It knocks the air out of his lungs, but there’s nothing to do but hold on for dear life. Let go and try to swim up and he’ll likely be separated from his ship. Better to hold on and hope for the best.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Swan. I’m a survivor.”

For several terrifying moments, Killian imagines the sea has swallowed him whole, that the Jolly Roger is lost and on its way to the bottom of the ocean, taking Killian right along with it. The sea is a murky green realm around him, engulfing him, silencing the storm until all he can hear is his own heartbeat pounding away in his ears. Seconds tick by, but they feel like hours as his lungs burn and his brain suggests that maybe this is it. Maybe this is the moment where the legendary Captain Hook dies, tethered to his ship and slipping away, down, down, down, down into the deep. He’s been sailing the seas for ten lifetimes, and yet the darkness of that deepness still gives him nightmares. 

Killian’s eyes are closed when the water finally recedes and its blessed oxygen filling his lungs that makes him open them again. Rain pelts his face but he laughs, a full bodied, throaty thing that surely would have made Emma smile, if she were here. Laughs until the next wave comes and sweeps across the deck with another angry roar of thunder. Killian refocuses himself then, determined, now more than ever, to ride out this storm and make it to the otherside unscathed. He has an objective now. He must get home to Emma.

“But what’s the point?” a voice to his right asks.

Killian turns his face into the pelting rain, to the source. “She’s waiting for me.”

“So am I.”

Liam looks sad as the rain whips right through him. He’s nothing more than a ghost. An insubstantial apparition pulled from Killian’s own mind. This is how he imagines his brother every time he closes his eyes.

“I would if I could. I’m so sorry, Liam…”

“You would really leave your own brother here?” someone new asks, voice high and condescending. “Leave him here… with me?”

Killian turns, Liam and the storm forgotten. Hate bubbles up from somewhere deep and he wishes for the first time that he had his sword. If he did he would surely draw it now and run it through the newest arrival to this nightmare.  “Get the hell off my ship.”

“Now, now, that’s no way to treat an old friend, my dear Captain Hook.”

“You are no friend of mine,” Killian spits, struggling to be heard over the roaring wind. He grips the wheel harder, if only to keep himself from committing murder right then and there. So many years of torment, so much misery brought on by the boy standing before him. A demon molded into the form of a child. An abomination in the truest sense of the word.

“So much for the legendary hospitality of the Jolly Roger.”

Pan’s apparition lifts from the ground and blasts right through Killian, as if he were not even there and suddenly Liam, his brother, is being suspended from the side of his ship by the throat.

“Pan! No!” he screams.

“You can’t save all of them, Hook.”

The deck of his ship is no longer empty. Pan gestures towards the people who are now standing there. So many people. Crew members, fallen friends, people who have perished at the end of his own sword. People he’s killed. People he’s failed. So many of them there is barely room to stand.

“Stop it,” he says, too quietly to actually be heard.

“How many of them do you think you can save before the sea comes to take her revenge? Before Hades comes to collect what you’ve so long denied him? Who do you save, Captain Hook?” Pan taunts him. “Yourself or them?”

The sea rises up suddenly and swallows the deck, sweeping away all the people who had been standing there. Killian watches on hopelessly, unable to do a thing to stop it as he fights to keep control of the Jolly Roger, keep her on course. Pan’s laugh reaches him even over the wind as he and Liam blink out of existence.

Killian is left alone as the waves batter against the hull. He’s drenched from head to toe but can still feel the burn of tears at the corners of his eyes. He’s failed so many people over the years. He’s been a fool to think he could ever be worthy of Emma Swan. The Savior and The Pirate. It doesn’t sound like the kind of story that endures, or that ever has a happy ending. It’s the story of pain and strife. Of a man constantly trying to better himself for the woman he loves, and failing miserably each and every time. Killian is dooming Emma to a life of misery and he sees that now. Perhaps it would be best to just let go of the wheel.

Killian can see it in his mind's eye; how he’ll make his way up to the prow of the boat, raise his arms and let the sea do with him what she will. It would be a fitting end, to go down with one’s ship.

“You can’t,” that small voice inside his head reminds him. “She’ll never forgive you.”

Lightning illuminates yet another massive wave headed his way as Killian clings to the ship’s wheel. It's taller than the last, blocking out the next fork of lightning that issues from the clouds.  It advances quickly and Killian readjusts his grip on the wheel.  The water hits him with all the force of a horse drawn carriage. All the breath is driven from his lungs yet again as he’s pulled under the water.  The name he calls out before he’s engulfed is lost in the wind.

Chapter Text

“Swan, move!” 

Emma was startled awake by the sound of Dr. Whale’s voice.

“Someone call a code and get that crash cart in here, now ,” he bellowed, rushing up beside her and practically yanking her chair away from the side of Killian’s bed. Emma blinked the sleep from her eyes stupidly. She’d only meant to close them for a few moments…

And that’s when it all finally registered. Alarms were sounding. Lights were flashing. People were starting to rush into the room, and all of them looked concerned.

Emma scrambled up out of her chair as fast as she could, nearly tripping over her own feet in her desperation to get out of Whale’s way. Still lost in the stupor of her sleepiness, it took her a lot longer than it should have to realize Killian was in trouble. And even longer than that to realize it was serious. “What’s going on?” she asked, eyes going wide.

“He’s decompensating,” was all Whale seemed to have time to say. He dropped the head of Killian’s bed a second later. Leaning over the now supine pirate, he pressed the bell of his stethoscope to Killian’s chest and listened intently. Emma’s heart nearly sputtered to a stop in her own chest as she watched on, helpless to do anything but stand there.

“Would someone please get her out of here?” Whale barked next. 

But Emma was rooted in place. She watched on in horror as Whale ditched his stethoscope, clasped his hands together and began administering punishing compressions to Killian’s chest. She wanted to do something, anything to help, to make it alright again, to bring them back to moments ago when everything was still ok and Killian was doing fine. But everything was happening so fast and bone deep exhaustion was making her limbs heavy and her brain sluggish. 

Someone grabbed her arm as a nurse began trying to pull her from the room. Emma didn’t resist, but she didn’t let the guy lead her any further than right outside Killian’s hospital room door either. She watched on with rising panic as a large cart packed with more medical supplies than she’d seen since Killian arrived was pulled into the room and wheeled up next to Whale. More nurses arrived, blocking her view of Killian. Undeterred, Emma stepped over to the windows that made up the front wall of the pirate’s ICU room that had been divested of their plastic until she found an unimpeded view. She wrapped her arms around herself, desperate to keep her panic in check as she watched Whale perform CPR on Killian.

It all seemed so surreal. She understood half of what was going on from the first-aid training she’d received over the years, but there was something quite different about watching it being performed in real life… and on someone she loved.

It felt as though all the oxygen was being sucked from the hallway outside Killian’s room as Emma pulled her arms in tighter. The same male nurse who had pushed her out of the room had taken over compressions for Whale who was now barking orders and starting to prep the defibrillator paddles. She could do nothing but stand there as Killian’s hospital gown was drawn open, pads were affixed to his chest, and Whale positioned the paddles over them. She held her breath as she watched his lips move. They uttered only a single word, yet it sliced through her like a hot knife through butter. Carved straight into the middle of her, even though Emma couldn’t actually hear what he was saying…

“...clear.”

Killian’s back arched up off the bed and his muscles spasmed as an electrical shock was delivered to his chest. It took a fraction of a second at most, but to Emma, the moment felt like a lifetime. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and there was nothing she could do about it. 

As she stood there, helpless and floundering, a thought crept into Emma’s mind. It was something she hadn’t allowed herself to even consider up until that exact moment. Something that stole the breath from her lungs and nearly doubled her over with grief. 

Killian was dying. 

Emma was watching it all unfold right there before her very eyes. Could feel it happening, even though she was being spared the horror of actually hearing it. Killian, her Neverland pirate, the man she had just decided she was falling in love with, was dying.

How could she have let this happen? Graham… Neal… Walsh… They were names engraved on the crumbling walls around her heart. Monuments to the dead, cast in iron. Emma knew if she added another name to her collection, another plaque… then that would be it. She would rebuild her fortifications and never again let another living soul past them. Emma could feel the work of it beginning even as she stood there. Stood there and watched as Whale shocked Killian’s heart again and again. 

She searched the pirate’s face for some sign of life, but there was nothing. Just pale skin, the blue plastic of the ventilator tubing, sunken cheeks, shattered dreams. A future snuffed out before it had even had a chance to thrive.

But had Emma done enough? Was it her fault that it had all come to this? Loving her was apparently bad for one’s health, there could be no other explanation. She was the common denominator to all of them. Her existence in their lives had brought about their ends. 

Emma stepped forward and put a hand to the glass. “Killian…”

A thousand memories came rushing back to her all at once. Not all of them exactly good, but close enough that they made her eyes burn and a single tear release from her lashes and roll down her cheek. The beanstalk, Neverland, New York, everything that came after… all of it.

“Please… You can’t do this to me.”

Emma had no idea what power she had inside of herself, but in that moment she focused all the faith she had in it down into her arm and out through her hand. Begged for it to reach Killian and drag him back from over that edge he’d apparently fallen over. Make it right again, because the idea of a world without Captain Hook was absurd. Complete and utter horseshit and Emma Swan would not accept it. Could not accept it.

What is that he was always saying? I’m a survivor…

Well, then he better get on with it. Because this joke he was playing on her was getting old. It was time to tell that virus ravaging his body to stop it already and for him to get better. They still had so much left to do.

Emma’s hand turned into a fist which she pounded against the glass. There was no force in it so no one paid her any heed, but something seemed to spark between her skin and the glass all the same. She jerked her hand back and inspected it. There seemed to be some kind of orange flame trying to erupt from the center of her palm. Figuring there was no harm in at least trying, Emma placed her hand flat against the glass once more, begging whatever bit of magic might be in there not to fail her. She closed her eyes and directed everything she had left inside of herself towards Killian. 

The rest of the world seemed to fall away as a roaring in her ears began to grow louder. Energy arced out from somewhere near her belly, circled around her torso a few times like a playful dragon, until finally rolling up her arm and exiting out of her palm. She could feel it every step of the way and knew somehow that it could work. That if she could only get it to Killian, it would actually be enough.

Without opening her eyes, Emma searched for the pirate. Her energy recognized his almost immediately. It was warm and familiar. A faint blue tinged with purple hues. The color of his eyes.  And it was all she needed. 

Emma groped for the connection and felt the exact moment it caught and held. Poured every once of strength and magic she had left until she felt drained and sucked dry.

Pulling her hand away from the window was like trying to pry a suction cup off the bathroom tile. It popped free just as she pried her eyes open. Exhaustion gripped at her with cloying hands and opening her eyes took more effort than it should have.

Emma saw Whale and his medical team just standing there, looking down at Killian’s still form, everyone appearing frozen in place. She tried to call out, but her exhaustion was just too profound. Black spots had begun crowding into her field of vision as the room began to spin. She knew she was going down even before her legs started to buckle beneath her.  

Darkness pulled her under even though she fought against it with all her might. 

Killian. She had to know what happened to Killian. 

But the darkness was just too strong and Emma Swan knew no more.

Chapter Text

It was enough. Or, at least, that’s what everyone kept telling Emma when she eventually came to in an empty ICU room adjacent to Killian’s. Her magic had worked and while he wasn’t 100% out of the woods, the pirate had turned enough of a corner that he was off the vent and showing signs that he was recovering from the pneumonia. Emma had saved him, though Whale apparently felt he deserved some of the credit for the heroic CPR he’d performed. The doctor liked to regale anyone who would listen with the story of how he’d swooped in and saved the day. Emma suspected he did most of this preening to impress his nurses, but she let him get away with it anyway.  For one, she was too exhausted and drained to give him a hard time about it, and two, he had been taking care of Killian for the past several weeks.

And speaking of Killian, Emma allowed herself to be separated from his bedside just long enough for the IV fluids they’d put her on to finish. Whale had insisted when it had become painfully obvious Emma was dealing with some pretty severe dehydration. But as soon as the bag was empty and the IV removed, she was back in her chair beside the pirate’s bed, holding his hand and watching his face for any sign that he was about to wake up. 

The ventilator was gone, thank god, and an oxygen mask had taken its place. There was color in Killian’s cheeks again, and though he still looked gaunt, there was an air of healing about him. Like she could sense his body physically rebounding as it began rebuilding itself. She watched it happen hour by hour as she sat in her rather uncomfortable hospital room chair and willed him to open his eyes.

The waiting was the hardest part. Whale and the nurses kept telling her to be patient, but Emma was having a difficult time of it. She wanted Killian awake, to see the impossible blue of his eyes, hold his gaze and never let it go; find proof that he was very much alive and well on his way to recovery.

Emma found herself marking Killian’s progress by the amount of activity in his room. Machines began to disappear as he rebounded, as did the bags of medications dangling from the IV stands behind his bed. Emma even noted a measurable diminishment in the number of nurses passing through the longer Killian went without relapsing. All of these things were encouraging signs, yet tarnished by the fact Killian had yet to wake up. Whale explained Hook had shown signs of consciousness while they were extubating him and one other time while Emma was still out of it from using her magic, but she had yet been able to see if for herself. He slept deeply, dreaming a little if the movement under his eyelids was anything to go by. It was maddening and yet reassuring all at the same time.

“Please, Killian,” Emma murmured a day or so later to a still unconscious Hook. “This is getting a little ridiculous. You need to wake up.”

She leaned forward in her chair, combing through Killian’s dark hair with her fingers. His hair had become unruly during his time in the ICU and Emma imagined he would need a haircut once they eventually got him out of here. She was considering how she might offer to do it for him when movement on the bed caught her attention. She shook herself away from her thoughts in time to notice that Killian was shifting beneath his blankets.

“That’s it, love,” she soothed, smiling and caressing the side of his cheek with her knuckles, begging silently for him to just open his damn eyes, all while trying not to get her hopes up too high.

“That’s my line,” came Hook’s wheezy reply. He cracked his eyes open slowly, the ice blue of his gaze searching for Emma’s own. A small smile pulled up at the corners of his mouth under the oxygen mask when he finally found her.

“Oh thank god,” Emma nearly sobbed, letting her head fall forward in relief.  Killian’s hand, which she had been permanently attached to for the better part of a day, squeezed her’s slightly. She looked back up again, eyes burning. “Do you have any idea what you just put me through?”

Killian didn’t answer, just closed his own eyes again and pulled in as big a breath as his congested lungs would allow. Emma thought she caught the faintest hint of a wheeze. “What happened?” he asked.

“You’re in the hospital,” she explained. Killian somehow managed to crack his eyes open again and take in his surroundings. They zoomed around the room until finally settling back on Emma. They held so many questions, but Emma could tell he lacked the energy and lung capacity to ask them. She tried her best to interpret them all.

“You have the measles.” Killian’s left eyebrow quirked up in a movement that was so incredibly him, Emma nearly started crying right then and there. “It’s a disease the children of this realm used to get until they eradicated it with vaccines. Apparently, it’s still out there and people can still get it. It’s pretty rare for adults, but they can get it, and most of the time it’s pretty awful.”

“How?” Killian asked, holding the oxygen mask closer to his face as if it might help more air get into his lungs. He seemed to be struggling so much and breathing seemed almost painful for him.

“Whale seems to think you picked it up in New York when you came to get me. Then you brought it back here to Storybrooke.”

Both of Killian’s eyebrows went up at that. “Anyone… else?”

Emma couldn't help but smile. Of course Killian was worried about everyone else. Sick as a dog and the pirate was still putting others first. He’d come so far in the short months Emma had known him.

“Everyone else is fine,” Emma assured him, raising Killian’s hand off the bed and brushing a kiss against his knuckles. “The curse apparently makes the rest of Storybrooke immune. Since you weren’t a part of the original curse, the prevailing theory is that you don’t get the same protections as everyone else. Whatever those are supposed to be…” she finished, the first tendrils of a headache nudging at the edges of her mind as she tried to make sense of it all. 

Killian wiggled his fingers out of her grip so he could cup the side of her face. His touch was warm and Emma closed her eyes against it, trying to not be embarrassed by the tear that escaped one of her eyes and rolled down her cheek. Killian caught it with his thumb and brushed it away.

“Emma,” he said softly and she suddenly knew what they both needed. That elusive, missing something that had been nagging at her for weeks and which she hadn’t been able to name until that exact moment.  

Emma straightened up in her chair, looked to Killian for permission, and nearly shuddered in relief when he nodded.  It took them a great deal of effort, mostly on Killian’s part, to scooch him over the few inches she would need to fit, but eventually they managed it and Emma found herself enveloped in Killian’s arms as she lay on the bed with him. She fit perfectly, head resting just under his chin, right over his heart. It would have been perfect, had it not been for the audible wheezing Emma could hear every time Killian pulled in a breath. She was careful not to put too much weight on him and make it even harder.

But, damn it, Killian was alive. She could feel his warmth surrounding her, the thump of his heart beneath her cheek, strong and true. Even though he’d been in the hospital for weeks now, he still smelled of the sea.  Salt, sunshine; fresh, clean air.. All the things that made him up, regardless of how long he spent on shore with them. Emma pressed a kiss to his collarbone, the only place she could reach so as not to jostle him any further and just breathed in that scent, closing her eyes. Killian pulled her in tighter, though his arms were shaking with the effort.

“Relax,” she soothed him as soon as she noticed. “I’ve got you.” 

His arms fell away and his eyes were closed when she peered up at his face a moment later. His steady yet beleaguered breaths fogged up the oxygen mask on each exhale. Both proof that he was alive and yet a terrible, terrible reminder of how very sick he still was.

“I’m never letting you go again,” Emma whispered. “You realize that, right?” She wasn’t entirely sure the pirate had heard her, which was fine. In fact, Killian had gone so still again she worried he had fallen back to sleep again. 

“When do I… get to leave?” he asked a moment later, each word sounding like such an effort to form. So, not asleep then.

“When you’re better,” she replied. And even though Emma was no longer looking up at his face, she knew he was quirking up another eyebrow. “Just take it easy there, tiger. You only just woke up. And having the measles isn’t something you just bounce back from. It’s going to take some time.” Or, at least, that’s what Emma was assuming would happen. She and Whale hadn’t exactly had that particular conversation just yet. Everyone had been too busy focusing on keeping Killian alive.

“Aye, love,” he said weakly. 

Even though the wheezing, to hear him call her 'Love' again tugged at Emma’s heartstrings. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy and that Killian was going to hate every minute of his recovery, but the fact that he was alive and breathing and so very warm beneath her was enough to pull another smile from somewhere deep inside of her. 

Emma snuggled into him further, wishing they could stay like this forever and dreading the moment a nurse walked in and yelled at her for climbing into bed with him. It just wasn’t something that was allowed. Emma knew it was foolish, but they had needed it. Both of them. To touch and be touched. To comfort and be comforted. Emma couldn't imagine Hook had many people in his life over the years who would have cared for him like this when he was ill. She imagined the woman called Milah, who meant enough to the pirate that he had tattooed her name onto his skin, might have done it, but certainly no one recently. They were cut from the same cloth in that respect. There had never been anyone around to bring Emma chicken soup or soothe her fevered brow either. They would just have to start taking care of each other. 

In the words of Spock, it was only logical.

“Killian?” she asked after Killian pulled in and then released a rather congested breath.

“Aye, love?”

“Don’t ever do that to me again, ok?”

Killian was resting his cheek on the top of her head and she could feel it the moment he smiled against her hair.  “You needn't worry about me, Emma. I told you, I’m a survivor. I’m not going anywhere.”

Emma could sense the effort it took him just to get those words out, but she needed him to try speaking one last time.

“I need you to promise me,” she said, knowing the implications of asking him to do such a thing. 

Even if he told her what she wanted to hear, neither of them could ever possibly promise that something like this would never happen again. Not with Killian being a reformed villain or with the dangers constantly threatening the denizens of Storybrooke. Still, she needed to hear it, even if it was only lip service. “Promise me you’ll be ok.”

“Aye, love,” Killian replied, pulling her closer until Emma could no longer tell where Killian ended and she began. “As you wish.”

FIN.