Fly Me To The Moon
"Killian? Hey, where are you?"
"Downstairs, love."
His voice sounds far away as he calls up the stairs. She still really needs to get her own place but her parents had decided to go away for the weekend. Well, David had convinced Snow to take a vacation and after many, many, long discussions, she had agreed to go stay at a cabin in the woods and leave Neal with Ruby. Henry had decided to stay with Regina and she has a sneaking suspicion that they had all done this so she could have some time for herself, enjoy the quiet and maybe finally come to grips with the latest development in her life. Speaking of which—
"What are you doing down there?" She calls out as she puts on some clothes. She figured it was about time, considering they’d spent most of last night and this morning without them. She feels a smile grow on her face as she recalls the night before. It had been everything. She doesn’t think she can ever come to describe in words the way it had felt to have him hold her, to have him love her and to feel brave enough to let him. She had loved him too, marked him in every way she could until all that remained of the walls around their hearts was rubble.
She makes her way down the stairs and sees him standing at the bottom, arm outstretched, big grin on his face and dressed in a—
"What are you wearing?"
He takes her hand and leads her down the rest of the stairs, pulling her into his arms when she reaches the bottom.
"I’m not quite sure what it’s called, but Henry suggested I wear one in order to woo you," he bites his lower lip. Her eyes are instantly pulled straight to it and he chuckles at her reaction. She looks back into his eyes and grins wide (god, she hasn’t smiled this much in forever), leaning in to give him a kiss.
"I think you were doing pretty well even without the suit."
"Oh yeah?" His eyes darken and he pulls her closer by her hips. She feels her heartbeat pick up and heat grow in her body but above all of that, she feels perfectly, incandescently happy.
"Yeah," she says with a sigh and a soft smile. His own softens in response, his eyes shining with feeling.
"Dance with me?"
That’s when she realises that the radio has been on the entire time, set on some sort of jazz station, soft music wafting about the apartment.
"Okay," she breathes, moving to take his hand, the other on his shoulder. His hook comes around her waist and even though they’ve had the earth-shattering, magical, true love’s kiss moment, here, now, dancing with him in an empty apartment with the afternoon sunlight warming their bare toes and Sinatra playing on the radio, this is when she knows she’s in love with him.

Timeless
“Okay,” she sighs in frustration, throwing the file she’s holding down to the desk and stepping around to where Killian is seated on the other side of the station, “I’ve gotta know.”
He frowns, looking up at Emma with questions written all across his face, “What have I done?”
She sits herself down next to him, looking at him in all seriousness, “How old are you really?”
He wants to laugh. It seems so trivial that in the midst of a war on a family orientated Snow Queen, Emma is really asking this. On the other hand, part of him has dreaded this moment since the second he realised that he was in love with her. Who would want a centuries old pirate anyway?
“Why do you ask?”
She shrugs, “No reason. It’s just one of those things I wonder about.”
“How old do you think I am?”
She smiles, bumping her shoulder against his, “Stop answering me with questions. I’m not going to be repulsed.”
“Even if I’m over three centuries old?”
Her head snaps up, “Are you?”
A slight smile ticks at the corner of his lips, giving away nothing, “Perhaps.”
She edges closer to him on her seat, reaching out to grab his hand, her knees slotting in between his, “Come on, pirate. You expect me to believe that you haven’t counted them all up?”
He matches her, moving closer himself, squeezing her hand in his, “Three hundred and thirty three is a lot of years to count.”
Her eyes widen, “You’re three hundred and thirty three?”
And his heart sinks at her shock. He can almost see the fear in her eyes, “Aye.”
But much to his surprise she just continues on with the conversation as though his age is just a number to her, “When was your birthday? You would think that that would be somewhat of a milestone.”
He chuckles, mostly in relief more than anything else, “Now that is something I cannot reveal. Celebrations of such a day should not be allowed. I have had more than my fair share of birthdays. I think I should leave those moments for the youthful.”
She narrows her eyes at him, “You don’t know when it is, do you?” He averts his gaze and she knows she has caught him in his lie, “You don’t truly know how old you are either.” This time it’s not a question, but a statement of fact. It saddens her that he knows so little about himself after such a long life.
He shrugs, “I know that I am old, my love. And I know that you are young and brilliant.”
“Hey,” she says, reaching her free hand up to cup his jaw, “Age has no bearing on us. We’re timeless, okay?”
He knows that it’s her superpower to be able to tell someone is lying but right now, in this moment, he can see how she does it. Because there is not a trace of a lie in her soul when she speaks to him like this. It’s tender and honest, and he realises that for all the times he sits alone and ponders his worthiness for her, she does the same.
The truth is, they are timeless, they would have found each other no matter when they existed because that’s just what this family does.
He lets the tension fall from his shoulders, letting his head relax into her touch. “I love you, Swan,” he says softly.
And he can taste her smile when she kisses him in response.
nothandlingit | tumblr

~
"Emma! Emma, wait!"
"What?" She spins around to face him, feeling a twinge of regret when she sees him flinch at her shortness but she’s got things to do. When the sun had risen she’d had but one thought on her mind, she had to see Gold. He was the only one who could help her and she needed to get to him before her brain catches up to the fact that this is a very bad idea.
"Easy, love. Where are you off to in such a hurry?" He smiles at her like he does, all sincerity and softness and she wants to cry, right there in the middle of the street and let him hold her. But suddenly, it’s broken glass and blood again and she needs to go now.
"To see Gold," she hears herself say the words and her resolve hardens. She has to fix this. She begins to walk again but doesn’t get very far before his hook comes around her elbow, pulling her closer.
"Did something happen? Is it about the Snow Queen? Let me help."
He speaks softly, just for their ears, his voice is filled with concern and she’s hit again with this feeling that’s been becoming more and more apparent recently, (something like belonging, something like love) and she wants to run to Gold as fast as she can to get rid of her magic so she can touch him again without feeling this fear.
He probably sees it in her eyes, the way they dart about his face, wide and shining because before she knows it, his fingers are interlaced with hers and he’s slowly guiding her to a chair in the Sheriff’s station.
"Are you okay, darling?"
He’s kneeling in front of her, his hand still holding hers and she can’t help but tell him. She doesn’t meet his eyes, staring at their hands instead.
"It’s my magic. I’m losing control again."
"Again?" His brow furrows and his grip on her hand tightens a little.
"It’s happened before. In that house, with her— I hurt people,” she looks up at him, “it’s happening again and I’m going to Gold so he can help me make this stop before I hurt someone else.”
It all comes out in a rush, her voice edging into panic and she stands, ready to leave again. But, he’s there, pulling her close by her hand, his hook coming around her waist, eyes finding hers.
"Hey, breathe. You’re alright, love."
Her eyes close and she takes a breath, lets his presence, his voice, his touch, calm her.
"And you’re different now, older, more comfortable with your magic. I’ve seen you perform miracles with it, darling. You’ll be alright."
Her eyes snap open.
"I’m not though—"
"Emma! Are you in here?" Her father’s voice is frantic as he jogs into the room, closely followed by her flustered looking mother, holding her little brother. It says a lot about how concerned David is when he completely ignores the fact that she’s wrapped up in Killian’s arms and just sighs in relief when he spots her.
"Are you alright, mate?" Killian lets go of her as her mother approaches.
"She wasn’t in her bed and there were glass shards everywhere—" David appears a little shaken still.
"We thought the Snow Queen had taken her!" Her mother on the other hand looks like she is about to burst into tears. She doesn’t know how to answer them, her eyes automatically finding Killian’s. He walks forward to face her once more.
"Lass, it’s alright—"
"No it isn’t! I did that in my sleep! What if one of you was around when it happened, I would have hurt you like—” She shows him her right hand and the cut through the middle, “It could have been you.” Her voice trails off. His hand is tracing the wound when Mary Margaret speaks.
"Emma sweetie, what’s happening?"
She looks around the room, filled with concerned faces, people that care about her, people she can still hurt. She doesn’t answer and makes for the door.
"What about Regina, love?"
She answers as she walks.
"She’s really not being helpful right now. Gold is my only option. He probably has some magic talisman or something that’ll help me."
"Will somebody tell me what’s going on? And why you’re going to Gold?" David’s voice is loud, commanding but they ignore him.
"So you’re going to make a deal with him? You know that’s a bad idea, Emma please wait! Just think about this.”
She stops and looks at him.
"I’m not going to make a deal. He’s changed. I mean he fixed your hand didn’t he?"
Killian’s face twists into something like despair and her heart sinks. She’d had a feeling that something was wrong that night but she had been so swept up in their date, feeling like she was whole and unbroken, like she was new, after so long, that she had ignored the signs.
"What did you do, Killian?"

~
Emma Swan runs.
~
It feels like another day a long time ago, a boat house, fear, anger and betrayal. She’d felt it then, felt how every moment that she had spent with him had suddenly become coloured by something (even though she hadn’t admitted to it then, she had begun to feel for him), making it all feel like a sour taste in her mouth.
It is much, much worse now.
Now, when he has seen the very depths of her, when he has seen her weak and vulnerable, when he has touched the bones of her past with his hand, when he has held her, kissed her, now, that he has been lying to her, she feels like someone has ripped a part of her heart away brutally.
(Just like before, just like always.)
She’s walking, well no, she’s stomping through the woods, trying to get as far away as she can from the town, away from people she can hurt (the look on her mother’s face as she had left the station, an errant lick of flame catching on the door as she had left) and people who can hurt her.
Her magic crackles between her fingertips again.
Deep breaths. One. Two.
She can’t forget the way he had looked when he had told her his story. His posture hunched over in shame and his voice stuttering as he started and stopped whenever it got to be too much.
She squeezes her eyes shut when tears threaten to overwhelm her. He had looked so broken but her old fears of being left behind, of being lied to had urged her to run, to leave him behind. She feels stupid for letting him do this to her, for letting him get under skin like this and making her feel helpless. She had sworn to never let that happen again after Neal.
That is, until she met him.
She’s never really given a name to how she feels about him, content to let things happen as they will. But now, she realises how deep it goes, how deep her feelings run when the emotion that is dwarfing all others is how she wants to hold him and tell him it’s alright, that his heart isn’t darkened like he suspects, that she takes him for who he is, as he is.
She realises that as much as she’s been letting him into her heart, he’s been afraid of showing her his, afraid of how she would react if she saw all of the darkness inside him. That is why his eyes had been so far away recently, troubled by what Rumplestiltskin had done to him.
(Doesn’t he know that their hearts are made out of the same thing? That they have been broken and put back together so many times? That she is just as damaged as he is?)
She begins to walk back into town, thinking about how she’s been marking him. Every touch of her hand, every bit of comfort, every kiss, every embrace. She’s been marking him.
He is hers.
And she’ll be damned if she is going to let Gold take that away from her.
~
She finds him as he is leaving Gold’s shop, the bell still tinkling when she comes to stand in front of him, her breath short, her eyes wide.
"Swan?" He looks surprised to see her, his eyebrows go up and then his face falls once more. She has some words for him for going to see Gold again about god knows what but first—
"Can we go somewhere to talk?"
"I— of course."
She begins to walk to Granny’s, the closest place from here. Maybe talking in his room isn’t the best idea she’s had but this conversation needs to happen now.
~
"Swan, you don’t have to— I understand if you need for me to leave," he says after she’s been quiet for the last few minutes, pacing in front of him. His voice is low and she barely hears him because she’s still trying to figure out what she’s going to say, how she’s going to explain the tempest brewing within in her.
Her magic still clawing to bleed out of the cracks in her calm.
Deep breaths. One. Two.
She turns to face him. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand clenched into a fist, his shoulders low as he stares at the floor. She lets out a big sigh and begins to speak.
"I am so angry at you, Killian."
He looks up.
"I—"
She puts her hand up, gesturing for him stop speaking.
"No, let me finish. I am angry because you didn’t tell me about the dagger. And blackmailing Gold? Really? You’re three hundred years old and you spent most of those years chasing after the guy and you really thought that that was a good idea?”
His eyes are wide as he looks at her, his mouth opening and closing without any words coming out.
"I’m going to deal with him later. But you. You—” Her eyes lock with his, “You. Why would you do that?”
He stands and runs his hand through his hair in frustration.
"I did it so I could be whole for you, so I could give you what you deserve Emma! Not me, not this broken, one-handed pirate who was too weak to resist the Dark One’s tricks and too selfish to let you go. I did—"
He never gets to finish his sentence because she’s kissing him. Her arms are around his waist, holding him as close to herself as possible. She kisses him with all the passion of the words she cannot say yet. He is surprised at first but soon enough, his arms come around her, his hand clutching at her jacket and his mouth moving in desperation against hers, like this is his last kiss with her. It is that thought that makes her pull away from him, dropping a final chaste kiss to his lips. When she looks at him, his eyes are still shut and he’s breathing hard.
Her hand comes up to stroke his cheek, thumbing at the scar on it. He leans into her touch with a sigh and his eyes open to look at her. He still looks unspeakably sad but a small, wry smile curves at his mouth and she feels an answering one grow on her face.
"I don’t care if you have one hand or twenty. I want you.”
It’s the closest she’s come to telling him how she feels.
(It’s the closest she’s come to telling herself how she feels.)
His forehead falls against hers and he sighs, his shoulders finally relaxing.
"Love, I apologize. I shouldn’t have kept any of this from you."
"You’re right about that. But, you did and I’m not going to let Gold or your idiocy," the smile on her face grows even more, "take away one of the best things that has happened to me in a long time."
"I don’t deserve you."
"Maybe not, but I want you and that’s what matters."

~
They’re walking through the woods. Again. She wonders how much of her life she’s spent trudging through these woods since she’s arrived in Storybrooke.
Her phone had rung almost immediately after they had patched up, demonstrating once again how impeccable the timing was with the villains in this town. It was Robin, the Merry Men had seen some disturbance a little further into the woods, snowfall and icy floors, things like that. So, of course, she and Killian and set off to investigate. She’d called David to let him know that she was okay and that she’d explain later but he needed to come to the woods immediately. She’d heard her mother in the background and the fact that there were people who worried about her is still something that often takes her by surprise. She smiles and promises herself that she will explain everything to them soon.
They’ve been walking for a while now, mostly in silence. She appreciates the quiet, walking close to him but lost in her thoughts, contemplating the still major problem of controlling her magic that looms above her.
"Don’t you two make a pretty pair?"
They turn around in unison, following her voice. She’s standing behind them, calm as ever, speaking in that soft voice that unnerves her every time.
"But I don’t need you right now." She raises her hand and Killian is frozen in place, ice piling at his feet as the Snow Queen moves closer to her. He begins to speak but before he can get a word out, she’s closed his throat.
"Let him go,” she grits out, her anger flaring.
"I heard that your memories of me have returned and I just wanted to explain, Emma."
"I don’t need you to explain. I remember what happened. You made me angry and you kept me confused, kind one moment and a tyrant the next and when I lost control of the magic you worked so hard to get out of me, you let them take me away. I should warn you, it’s happening again and I’m not responsible for what I may do to you."
Her voice shakes as the memories assault her mind.
"Emma," she moves closer and Emma’s hands go up in defence, her magic ready to be unleashed, "I tried, I tried to make them let you stay. I wanted us to be a family. I understood you, I understood how they were afraid of you. They are still afraid of you. This man," she gestures at Killian, "you think he will stay with you after he finds out what you did to those poor boys? What you are capable of? They will never understand you, Emma. But, I do."
Her anger had been growing as the words had escaped the Snow Queen’s lips, but they burst into a large flame when she talks about Killian, her magic wild and strong as it pushes her off her feet.
"Thanks, but I already have a family.”
Killian is still choking and she runs to his side, trying to use her magic to free him but it’s not working as fast as she’d like it to, his body gently falling forward as he weakens.
"I will come back for you, Emma and we will be a family.” She barely hears her voice over the roaring sound in her ears but as soon as she is gone, the ice holding Killian thaws and he falls to his knees, his hand immediately going to his throat, massaging it.
"You were brilliant, love." His voice is hoarse, a rough rasp. She lets out something between a laugh and a sob and his hand is in hers, anchoring her.
She still isn’t sure how she’s going to deal with her magic, but she knows this. She has people to rely on, people she can trust and for now, that is everything.

Love is...
mulan:love is sacrifice
cora:love is weakness
emma:love is strength
belle:love is seeing the good in someone
hook:love is chasing after her
neal:love is letting someone go
rumple:love is a flicker of light
snow & charming:love is finding each other
robin:love is a second chance
regina:love is taking chances
henry:love is believing
alice & cyrus:love is something that doesn*t need proof
will:love is laughing and crying and fighting and making up and struggling and forgiving each other

"It’s in there?"
"Yeah," she puts her hand on his shoulder, running it down his arm to take his trembling hand as it floats over the box, hardly touching it. He interlaces their fingers loosely, his skin barely grazing hers, still wary with his touches, still restrained and afraid. When he looks at her she wonders how she had missed it, the blankness in his eyes, the dimness in his smile.
"Are you sure you want me to do this? We could ask Regina, she has more experience with—"
"There is no one else I would trust with my heart, Swan, apart from the woman who already possesses it."
He smiles softly and she is frozen for a second before she drops a kiss on his shoulder, wondering how she ever came to deserve him.
She opens the box and lifts his heart out. It is warm and pulsing and she feels like she is intruding, like she is invading. But, then she looks at him and the tenderness she sees there takes her breath away. He trusts her to do this, he trusts her to hold his very heart in her hands and keep it safe.
She turns to stand facing him, and reaches her hand forward in some approximation of where she assumes his heart ought to be. She is scared of a million things, doing this wrong, hurting him, damaging his heart—
"That’s it, love."
She meets his eyes and pushes forward, worried that she wouldn’t go through with it if she thinks any longer.
He lets out a pained cry and her stomach lurches as she tries to pull out, afraid that she is hurting him. But, his hand is there, keeping hers pressed inside his chest. There is a flash of light and she feels his heart setting in place. Her grip loosens and she withdraws her hand, his own falling away from her wrist.
“Emma,” he says her name on a sigh, his eyes shining. Her own burn with unshed tears, her hand still moving across his chest.
"How do you feel?"
"Better than ever, love."
They still haven’t moved from their places and suddenly it feels like there is too much space between them. She moves forward almost at the same time as he does and then she is in his arms, his face buried in the crook of her neck, her hand tangled in his hair. He’s murmuring apologies and thanks, his breath tickling her skin. She doesn’t reply, holding him tighter.
She’s not sure how long they stay that way, swaying in place, pressing as close to one another as they can. She moves back from his embrace, wanting to see him, to see the life come back to him, to see the warmth return.
And when she does, it is written in every line on his face, in the curve of his lips, in the crinkling of his eyes.
He loves her.
(And as her hands drift over his chest, feeling his heart beat in time with hers, she thinks she might love him too.)

In which Emma gets hit by the spell of Shattered Sight right after she finds out about Killian’s deal with Gold.
They are everywhere, tiny shards of glass floating in the air, gently dancing on the ebb and flow of the breeze, sparkling in the afternoon air. It is beautiful, really.
But all she sees is the fact that there is nowhere left to hide.
~
"Here we are, just like old times. Do you remember the last time I had you tied to a tree trunk, Hook?"
"Emma, please."
His voice cracks and breaks as he tries to fight his restraints but she ignores him, continuing to watch him, her eyes blank, a small smile curving at her lips.
"This time feels much better though. More fulfilling somehow."
She makes her outstretched hand into a fist and his bindings tighten, pressing into his stomach as he cries out in pain.
"This isn’t you. Fight it, love."
He’s panting harshly now, trying to catch a breath, his words raspy exhalations. The ropes she’s used to tie him to the tree dig into his skin, burning, leaving marks as he struggles. Physical pain is the only thing that he’s been able to feel with any clarity since the Crocodile had taken his heart. Everything else is muted, colours look dull, touches feel like they’re happening through a layer of wool. Her kisses used to set a fire alight in his body, making every nerve ending aware of the fact that he was kissing Emma Swan, every part of him alive and humming at her presence. But now, it feels like he is reaching, straining, his body hungry to feel. He holds her tighter, kisses her harder, tries to love her more, more, but it isn’t enough.
There is a hole in him and he is incomplete. He is broken, once again.
"Where’s all the bravado now? All your "I’m a survivor, love" crap? Was all of it an act?”
"No!"
Somewhere, in the deepest, darkest parts of his soul, he is glad that he cannot feel for he is sure that if he could, her every word would tear him apart.
~
There is a roaring in her ears.
It blocks everything else out until all she can feel is the anger, the pain and the hurt. At her parents for leaving her, for making her live her live unloved and unwanted. At Regina for casting the curse. At everyone in this stupid town for getting themselves in trouble again and again, for forcing her to be their saviour.
But the bulk of her ire is reserved for the man tied up in front of her. She had given herself to him. She had let him see every fractured, damaged part of her and he had betrayed her. He had used her to get to Gold. He had gotten her to trust him only so he could break her.
And now she will break him.

~
"Darling, trust me. Every word I have ever told you is true. I am in lov—"
"Shut up," she growls, her eyes flashing blue for just a second, "How can I trust anything you say? You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me since the beginning and I should have known. You are a pirate after all. Sure, you’re broken and incompetent. But you’re still a pirate.”
She steps closer to him, hands reaching up to trace the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer to her face. She leans in as if to kiss him, her eyes fluttering shut and for a moment, a single mad moment, he lets himself believe that she has broken through the bonds of the curse. But, the second her mouth touches his, he knows. Her lips attack his, tugging and biting. She kisses like she possesses him and gods know that she does but it feels wrong, his body protesting at her roughness, at the lack of feeling.

She pulls away leaving him breathless, his lips buzzing from her kiss. Her face is still close, her eyes hooded as she stares at his lips when she speaks.
"At least you were good for one thing," she whispers, her voice low and gentle, like it is when she is asking him to come in for coffee, when she’s asking him to be patient.
But it is wrong, all wrong.