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sammystep · 4 years ago

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No One Lives Forever- CH10

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

Between the road noise and the insulation of the cooler it was easy to ignore the shouting from the gremlin. Kakyoin had taken shotgun this time, the rest of you piled in the back rows and passing around bandages and ointments as Polnareff drove. After cleaning away the blood you could see none of you had sustains injuries worse than some deep scratches. With the accelerated healing you all had they would be fine by morning, but you patched each other up with gauze and bandages just in case. It felt nice, satisfying even, to take care of the others and let them take care of you in return.

You lose track of time for a bit, content to sit quietly in the middle row and rest. You hear someone start snoring from behind you and turn around to see Joseph has nodded off, Avdol also has his eyes closed but looks more like he’s meditating than sleeping. Jotaro must have turned at the same time, you caught his eyes as he turns forward again as well, a small smile on his face. You smile at him and hold out your hand to him over the middle seat. His gaze flicks back again before he faces forward completely and covertly takes your hand.

You didn’t realize how tense you still were until he took your hand and you felt the muscles of your back and shoulders melt. A tingling feeling of relief, you were safe, your pack was safe, your mate…

You tense slightly again and grip Jotaro’s hand, where had that feeling come from? You are bewildered for a moment, you barely register Jotaro squeezing your hand back, his emotions hidden by his resting serious face. You relax into your seat again, coming to at least basic terms with what your instincts have been screaming at you for a while now. Yes, it was a terrifying situation happening when you first met him, and Jotaro could physically fit the definition of big bad wolf, but his actions so far have proven he’s anything but cruel or violent. When you had gotten a look at the cut on his leg earlier you had to suppress a sudden shift and urge to rip the monster that did that to pieces. Maybe he was experiencing the same feelings towards you?

It’s been a few hours after the events of the gas station and capturing Dio’s minion when Polnareff makes a turn off the road to a campsite. Although it looked well cared for there weren’t many campers ready to brave New York forests this late in the season, there were no other cars in the lot or in any of the designated spaces close to the entrance. Jotaro is surveying the space outside his window so he doesn’t see Kakyoin turn around and catch sight of your intertwined hands. You blush and look away when you catch his eye and he’s polite enough to clear his throat before announcing this was the nearest campsite he found to dispose of the gremlin in its prison.

Polnareff parks and you’re surprised Jotaro gives your hand a squeeze before letting go and climbing out. You suppress a giggle at Joseph’s sudden snort as he jostles himself awake. Exiting the truck, you enjoy a deep lung full of clean air, not even a trace of human scent present. The falling leaves and large lake to your right create a picturesque scene and you almost wish the pack had stopped for pleasure and not business. Speaking of… Jotaro and Polnareff are unloading your captive from the back, the creature either playing possum or it had finally run out of air. A couple of hard shakes to the container don’t produce the screeches you expected.

Joseph has fully woken up from his nap and joins them in staring at the cooler. “Well, looks like we won’t be getting any more info out of that thing.” He puts one hand on his hip and scratches at his beard with the other. “Jotaro, what do you think? Risk it getting away to see if it’s really dead?”

“No. It didn’t seem all that clever, it probably had nothing more to tell us. It’s not worth the risk of it getting loose out here.” Jotaro motions with a jerk of his chin to the dense woods. “We’ll burry the whole thing and be done with it.” The rest of the pack nods in agreement and Jotaro and Polnareff haul the cooler towards the line of trees.

You all take advantage of the rest stop and walk around the campsite while Jotaro and Polnareff make quick work of disposing of their cargo. You douse a few paper towels with some of the bottled water as they make their way back and offer them to the guys to clean up with. “Ah, merci mon amie.” Polnareff looks around for a moment before leaning in slightly “Ah, say (Y/N), you didn’t see any restrooms around here, did you?”

Jotaro rolls his eyes as he finishes cleaning the dirt from under his nails. “Good grief Pol. It’s the woods. Go anywhere.”

“Fine! Fine!” Polnareff puts his hands up in surrender, “Just thought I’d check.” He backs away from you and Jotaro and towards the lake. You turn away to give him privacy and survey the rest of the pack. Avdol and joseph are going through some of the snacks; more like Avdol is trying to restrain Joseph from sampling each new type of jerky he finds. Kakyoin is making his way to you and Jotaro when you hear a sudden shout from behind you.

Polnareff had just finished his business and was headed back to the group when his leg gets caught on something. Yelling as he’s pulled to the ground, he re-evaluates, he hasn’t tripped on his own and whatever has caught him is dragging him back towards the lake. He catches a glimpse of what looks like seaweed wrapped from ankle to kneecap as he tires to scramble away. His claws dig into the dirt as he struggles to gain traction and from behind him he hears an ungodly noise of whatever has caught him.

You and Jotaro turn as soon as you hear Polnareff’s distressed yelp. The unbelievable scene of a creature rising from the lake makes you both hesitate for a moment to comprehend what you’re seeing. Its body ungulates, a writhing mass of pond weed and lake plants twining together to take the form of what looked like a horse. Jotaro recovers from the shock first, surging forward and transforming as he ran. You are right behind him, transforming as well. The creature rears back and screeches as you both approach it, desperately trying to drag Polnareff to the water as the plants rooted to its body climb further up his leg to gain better grip on the struggling werewolf.

From your left more beasts are emerging from the water and you and Jotaro dodge the kelp and vines shooting out at you. You hear the rest of the pack behind you also start making their way to the lake but are cut off by more creatures. The one holding onto Polnareff has managed to drag the massive white werewolf to the water by the time you and Jotaro rush the last few steps to his aid. Both of his legs have been tangled by vines now but they fall away limp as Jotaro is able to cut through the main vine. You quickly help Polnareff to his feet in the knee-high water.

“What the hell are these things?” Polnareff’s voice is deeper and slightly distorted with his change and constant growl rumbling from his chest. The three of you take a defensive formation covering each other’s backs and claws out. Your ears flatten and you snarl at one of the seaweed horses as it gallops by.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” you huff and swipe at a tendril of lake-weed snaking too close for comfort, “Some kind of horses? Or we pissed off a plant witch or something?”

“Kelpies. They’ve never been sighted this far north though.” Jotaro growls out as he snaps at the beast in front of him. By now the things were running amok along the shoreline and around the pack, six of them in total working as a team to try and capture and drag you all to a watery grave. One of them turns and stamps its hooves before charging directly at you, Jotaro and Polnareff. You are forced to dive away as it barrels by but a vine of weeds wraps around your waist as it passes. You are lifted briefly into the air before landing on all fours, the vines tangling your legs as well. You hear two loud thumps behind you and see Jotaro and Polnareff were also bound by that last charge, their arms stuck to their bodies and unable to claw their way out.

You cut your own bindings as fast as you can and quickly cut them free as well before you are all dragged along with the galloping kelpie. It bellows as it realizes its prey has broken free and tosses its head making its mane of kelp fly about. The three of you quickly move to the offensive rushing the creatures standing between you and the rest of your packmates. Jotaro takes the lead and you defend his sides, swiping away any tendrils reaching too close. Polnareff assists and keeps another beast off your backs. Ahead of you, Avdol, Joseph and Kakyoin are also struggling to keep themselves guarded and untethered, but the horses are galloping too fast to try and get any substantial hits in, circling in a pattern to keep the pack separated and vulnerable.

Jotaro narrows his eyes and growls louder as he realizes there is something more going on here. Although they are fast there are only six of the kelpies, the pack should be able to take them on one-on-one but their movements are too coordinated to be wild kelpies. He stops and takes on a defensive stance again as a sudden gleam of light catches his attention, what looks like spider’s thread catching the sunlight. He follows the line with his eyes and sees it connects to one of the kelpie’s heads. In fact, now that he’s noticed one of them, they all seem to have this silver thread connecting them to a single point in the lake. About 20 feet from the shore a figure has risen from the water, humanoid but draped in gold and blue lakeweed. It makes no move to come ashore, instead moving its arms like an orchestra conductor would to control the team of water horses under its command.

Before he can make a move towards this figure another kelpie blocks his path. Polnareff barrels forward from his right and slashes at the beast’s face with his claws. He yelps in pain at the same time the kelpie rears back and retreats, a pile of silver rope falling to the ground. Polnareff cradles his silver burned hand for a moment before his eyes light up in understanding. “It’s silver! They have silver leashes!” the kelpie he accidently freed runs past the fighting happening between its herd and the pack, running on top of the water to the far side of the lake. “It’s gonna burn like hell but we can free them!”

With one of the kelpies no longer under its control, the man in the lake’s movements become more exaggerated as the remaining five horses push themselves to move faster, biting, stomping and charging the pack. Jotaro seizes the opportunity to break another of the silver ropes as he dodges the kelpie charging at him but instead of letting go, he grips the silver line tight where he severed it. It burns something fierce but he’s able to control the horse long enough to force it to charge at the lake man and bring Jotaro along for the ride. When he’s close enough Jotaro slips the silver harness from the kelpie and throws it, hoping to tangle the puppet master. Up close he can see the man’s flashing amber eyes and although as a wolf his sense of color is limited, he can tell the kelp and weeds cloaking the creature would actually be red instead of gold if he had full color vision right now. A rusalka then. A male rusalka and a herd of kelpies under its control?

The rusalka hisses at him but it’s a mocking laugh and not a fearful defense mechanism like Jotaro expected. Instead, it seems confident in its ability to take on the hulking werewolf in the water. “Hssss… You are a foolish one, aren’t you? Making it so easy to carry out my orders. You think you’ll beat me in my element? Show me what you’ve got then, pup.” Vines of lake kelp lash out as the rusalka flails his arms, no longer focused on controlling the kelpies now that his prey was in range of his own claws. Jotaro growls and snaps the first volley of vines with his claws as he swims closer. Grabbing at the next vines that hurl at him he holds tightly and begins reeling himself closer toward the rusalka.

He’s underestimated the rusalka’s speed and he has to suddenly deflect razor sharp claws away from his exposed torso. Although it has the advantage of speed in the water it is still weaker than Jotaro and on its next swipe Jotaro is able to grab on and immobilize it while swiping with his own claws. The rusalka hisses in pain and thrashes enough to break Jotaro’s grip before getting a hit in on the wolf’s side. More lake weed vines shoot out from its body to try and wrap him up and finally succeed in binding his leg. With a great tug the battle is moved completely underwater. Jotaro is just barely able to resist the instinct to gasp as the cold water rushes into his ears and nose uncomfortably. Snapping his eyes open as he feels a shift in the water, he’s able to evade the claws that had been aiming for his face.

Now that he can see his enemy in his entirety, Jotaro realizes the reason the rusalka had been controlling the kelpies from such a distance. From the waist down, instead of legs or even fins is a thick tangle of lake weed and kelp that anchors it to the lake bottom, more vines branching off and shooting towards him from this central pillar. The vines were easily cut away as they reached him, but they were only a distraction for the rusalka to pull himself closer and unleash a flurry of slashing strikes. Jotaro blocks them with his arms and again grabs on to immobilize and pull in closer to deliver his own blows. He moves to the offensive, digging his claws into slimy flesh as the rusalka struggles in his grasp. He almost looses his grip when it lands a hard blow to his shoulder but keeps hold long enough to accomplish his final attack. With a powerful strike, Jotaro severs the thick tether keeping the rusalka anchored to the lake.

The screech it lets out is almost deafening under water and Jotaro nearly looses his grip a second time. But with his claws embedded deep into the rusalka’s torso and his other hand gripping it by the throat he is able to swim and haul it to shore. With every foot closer it struggles harder, finally showing fear in its panicking eyes. Its movements are becoming less and less coordinated and it makes motions Jotaro recognizes as trying to call upon the kelpies for help through the silver ropes it had been using. The water is shallow enough now that Jotaro can stand and looks around for the kelpie reinforcements coming to its master’s aid. Instead, his pack spots him and rushes to help him drag the rusalka all the way to shore. Kakyoin reaches him first and the red wolf helps pull the creature the last few feet to the shore.

The change begins as soon as the last tendril loses contact with the water, some leaves shriveling and turning brown while others seem to rapidly decay and turn to sludge. The rusalka screams and thrashes as its body dries out and starts to flake away, but its strength is failing and it can’t pull itself back to the water in time. It collapses as it shrivels up, arms outstretched to the lake and it succumbs to the dry air.

You are the first one to let your transformation drop as you run up to Jotaro and Kakyoin, careful not to step in any leafy remains on the ground in front of them. Your sable fur falling away to reveal smooth skin and clothes is the unofficial signal for the others to drop their transformations as well. You reach the alpha and beta just as Jotaro lets go of his wolf form and you can see the damage the rusalka inflicted in their unseen underwater battle. You and Kakyoin nod at each other before reaching for Jotaro’s right arm and lifting it over your shoulder to support him, Kakyoin doing the same on his left side. You blush as you hear him chuckle but you’d be dammed if you weren’t going to help him after he risked his life to defeat the enemy. It seems he does appreciate your effort though as his chuckle turns into a huff and you feel his weight shift to lean on you as the three of you make your way back to the truck.

The rest of the guys move ahead getting the first aid supplied you all ransacked from the gas station opened and organized. Avdol takes charge of distributing bandages as Joseph and Polnareff drop dramatically to sit on the logs surrounding the unused fire pit. Jotaro is obviously sporting the worst injuries, but the rest of the pack is also covered in various bruises, bitemarks and silver burns. You and Kakyoin focus on getting Jotaro patched up together, you carefully clean the slashes from the rusalka’s claws and Kakyoin follows your wake drying and bandaging what he can. You don’t realize you are purring until Jotaro starts purring back and relaxes as your hands make contact with the bared flesh of his arms. You blush as you glance at his bare chest, looking in a non-clinical way now that things were calming down. Your hands only hesitate a moment though before you return to your task.

Your blush returns tenfold when Jotaro practically drags you down to sit next to him once you and Kakyoin finish bandaging each other as well. By the time everyone is bandaged up it’s getting late enough that you knew the pack wasn’t going to finish the journey to the city tonight. Everyone is sitting around the still unlit firepit and relaxing for a moment, watching the herd of kelpies you freed running and jumping across the surface of the lake when Avdol makes his suggestion. “Well, it seems like we’re not going to make much more progress tonight. We don’t have any camping gear with us, but we are already at a campsite.”

Polnareff flops over onto the log he’d been sitting on. “You mean we’re roughing it out here tonight? Can’t we keep going until we find a motel with actual beds? And proper bathrooms?”

Joseph throws an empty bottle at him, “Hush you spoilt pup! I don’t want to hear your bellyaching when you’ve got no idea what camping out here will do to my old bones!” You’re starting to recognize Joseph’s tell when he’s teasing Polnareff is to cross his arms and try and look stern, but a small grin gives him away.

“No, its too risky right now to be near humans. That rusalka, before we really got to fighting it mentioned ‘carrying out its orders’.” Jotaro shakes his head as he addresses the pack, joseph and Polnareff immediately back into serious mode. “We’ll be safer if we are able to fully transform to fight if we need to. I think that’s worth being uncomfortable for the night.”

You all agree with the decision to rank safety over comfort but you slump a little as you continue to watch the kelpies dance around the lake. You’ve slept in your car and camped out enough in your own travels that it’s not a huge hardship to do it again, but you also appreciated having a real bed to relax in. Especially after a day like today.

“I agree. However, on second thought…” Avdol motions to the kelpies, one had caught a large fish in its mouth as you had been daydreaming and now two were fighting over it and ripping the catch to pieces in the process. “Kelpies are carnivores after all. Perhaps a different campsite would be more suitable.”

Jotaro sighs and you feel him slump slightly into your side before he rallies himself and stands up. “Good point. Kakyoin, you’re navigator. Find a campsite we can get to quickly. Everyone else pack up and let’s go.”

Author’s Note:

So. A week late, but I swear its not my fault. Guess who lives in Texas and couldn’t use a computer for the week? This gal. Everything is fine now and I’m one of the lucky few who doesn’t have a 10k electric bill or burst pipes.

Anyway, this chapter was a lot of fun to write- I always thought it was weird the crusaders just jumped right in with the rest of the crew after the Dark Blue Moon episode when CLEARLY you can’t trust anyone. So this chapter is the “Captain” and his crew as cryptids and myths. If you haven’t been reading the notes so far, I’ve planned out all of the enemies in this fashion, each battle a new myth to discover (and for me to research). Also every Wikipedia article I’ve looked at for the monsters has a reference line that is something like “Appears on episode 25 of Supernatural”. I have not seen more than 2 or 3 episodes of that show, I got to the one with the Wendigo and NOPED RIGHT OUT. Was wwaaaayyy too scary. Couldn’t handle it! So any similarities to the show are going to be pure coincidence.

Also I had to do a gag at Pol’s expense

#werewolf #pack #family pack #jjba fanfic #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo part 3 #stardust crusaders #jjba anime #jjba au #jotaro kujo #joseph jostar #noriaki kakyoin #jean pierre polnareff #muhammad avdol #jotaro x reader #reader insert #au fanfiction #dark blue moon

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teamhook · 4 years ago

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My Fate is Darkness :: CSSNS Ch10

Hello. I know it has been a long time but I'm going to finish this. I'm aware I have a lot of WIPs but if you're patient and stick around I will finish them all. To those who have stuck around and the new readers thank you.

I want to thank @cssns @hookedonapirate for taking time to beta for me.

AO3 |CH9| |CH10|

FFN |CH9| |CH10|

Here we go...

The road so far…

Friendships grow and a villain gains a mark in the hero column.

Rumplestiltskin had lived a very long life - one of luxury. Yes, it was at the expense of others' souls, but that didn't matter to him. Once upon a time, it would have mattered, but not anymore. During this time, his dark deeds had taken a toll on his body and heart. His appearance became more reptilian than human. The problem now was he was lonely. He wanted a companion. He'd made attempts to rectify that before and had failed miserably. Cora had chosen riches and power of her own over him. Years later, her oldest daughter had piqued his interest, but her insecurity had turned her into a green, wicked hag. Both were lost in their own darkness. Two more souls for his master. Later, the youngest went to him for training, and she too had been lost. Now he waited for an opportunity to make a deal with someone who was willing to exchange their freedom for his help.

Rumplestiltskin still didn't know what his master's complete plans were when it came to Jones. Jones turned into the opposite of his master's desires. On more than one occasion, the damn pirate thwarted their plans. Rumple suggested ending the pirate's miserable life, but Zoso declined by saying he needed him for a specific task. The darkness needed to consume the pirate's heart; the problem with that plan was that although the pirate tasted darkness before, he didn't let it corrupt him completely. He found a way to resist.

Rumple may not be all-knowing or powerful as his master, but he has a feeling Killian Jones will be his master's undoing and consequently his own. He needed to find the dagger for self-preservation purposes only. He would not lose everything again because of Killian Jones.

But first, it was time to make a new deal with a desperate soul. Perhaps this time he could get a lasting companion out of it.

Enchanted Forest

In the sea of deep green plant life, Whale finally woke up and found his way to Killian and their charge, Ruby.

Killian turned to his friend and hissed, "Where have you been?"

Whale grimaced as he felt the bump on his head. "I'm sorry, Killian. I was on my way to meet you and was knocked out."

Killian pondered his friend's words. "Perhaps it was the hunter I encountered. He must've thought we were going to hurt the lass."

"What happened to him?" Whale asked as he stretched his limbs and looked at the prone body.

"He is only unconscious with no memory of meself or the lovely lass," Killian said.

"Let's get the girl home," Whale said as he turned to the sleeping wolf. "We’re still missing the cloak."

"There's a woman. A healer that can help." Killian said. "She's not far from here. I'll carry the lass to the cart. I'm going to have to put silver shackles on her to keep her controlled. If she wakes up without restraints, she might attack, and I won't be around to protect you."

Victor sighed, "Okay, let's go."

On the way to the horses, Victor kept a close eye on the wolf as Killian pushed the cart with very little effort.

Killian glanced at his friend. "Victor, the tranquilizer you made is strong. I don't think she will wake up anytime soon."

"Easy for you to say, you have superhuman strength and speed. I'm just a walking piece of meat to her," Victor scoffed.

"Don't fret, we're almost there." Killian rolled his eyes at his friend's theatrics.

"Killian, this healer you are going to go see. Why haven't you mentioned her before?"

Killian smirked. "You're not my only friend, you know. I came across her not that long ago."

"Ah, when you were searching for the Dark One? I still can't believe you left me behind. I could've helped."

"Victor, I can't risk hurting anyone when he's around. The darkness around him can be overwhelming." Killian said.

"Alright, but somehow it was safe for you to meet a healer."

"She's a witch from a different realm. She has ways to protect herself from monsters like me. You don't. Don't you remember how we met?" Killian asked.

"Do you truly trust this witch?"

"She wields white magic. I believe she will be able to cleanse Ruby from the dark magic that forced her wolf out." Killian affirmed.

"Can she help with the replacement cloak?" Victor asked as the wolf growled in its sleep.

"I believe so. She's helped a lot of people and isn't afraid of me."

"I know you think you're this horrible monster. Yes, I know you've done horrible things in the past, but now you're a hero. I think you have to trust yourself more. Maybe even fall in love. I know you have your dalliances but they never go beyond that." Victor remarked as he stroked the fur of the sleeping wolf.

"Mate, I didn't know you were so sentimental. Alas, love isn't in the cards for me. Milah was it for me."

"I know I'm not your brother or anything, but we're the closest thing to family. You're like a brother to me." Victor's eyes welled with tears and he ducked his head to avoid Killian's gaze.

"Victor, are you crying?"

"No, no of course not. We've lived a long time and sometimes I wish I'd meet a nice girl to finally grow old with."

Killian stopped pushing the cart. "Victor, I'm sure once you stop using my blood, you will age."

"We don't have to worry about that. Let's get the beast to the horses." In all fairness, Victor knew Killian was right. He would only get in the way, Killian could move faster alone and he would be back sooner without Victor. He could easily transport himself with magic, but the less magic he used, the better.

Once they reached the horses, Killian grabbed a harness from the cart. He quickly attached the harness to the horses, and they made their way to a clearing, not far from Granny's home. There was a small, abandoned little hut. They didn't want to deliver Ruby to her grandmother before she was back to her human form. They also needed to maintain Ruby's secret. After depositing the wolf inside without a word, Killian left his friend to tend to it. There was no time to lose.

Killian arrived at the open space in the woods hours away. He looked around to make sure no one was around. He was about to knock on the invisible door when a clear wave of energy knocked him on his ass. He got up and started brushing off some dirt. "Glinda, it's me, lass. I need your help. I know you're home."

A door creaked open, and a blonde woman wearing a white cloak appeared. "Hook, is that you?" She asked.

"Aye, what was that?"

"I'm sorry, I had to add a barrier for protection. To be safe. So what do you need help with?"

"I have a werewolf. She has the scent of dark magic. She had an enchanted cloak to halt the transformations, but it went missing. I need to cleanse her and the enchantment to stop her transformation."

"You think someone did this to her."

"Aye, her eyes were a soulless black. Not a natural hue for a wolf's eyes."

"Let me grab a few things." She tossed some items in a rucksack, mumbling to herself as if she'd made a list.

Killian looked around the room. It was cozy, but he knew it wasn't what she was used to. In Oz, her native home, she lived in a castle, but here, she had a small cottage with just enough to get by.

"Okay, I'm ready. How do we do this?" Glinda asked.

Killian scratched behind his ear. "Lass, I ran here. You know how I feel about using too much dark magic."

She blinked, "I can use my magic to take us both to our location. That is if you're okay with being close to me."

He nodded with a slight smile on his lips. She was a beautiful lass, and he was aware she found him appealing, but to be in such close proximity to a woman and the scent of her blood might entice the darker part of him.

As if she knew what was going through his mind, she said, "Killian, I can use my magic to put a slight barrier between us, if that makes you feel better."

"Won't the effort drain you?"

"It will tire me but not enough to not do my job," she said.

He grabbed her bag and walked slowly toward her space. "Do it. I will guide you with my thoughts." He closed his eyes as she surrounded them with a clear field, and then with a burst of energy, the pair were swallowed by the magic in the air.

Killian and Glinda instantly appeared in front of Victor and the sleeping wolf.

"That was quick," Victor said as he laid eyes on his friend. Once his eyes landed on the woman, he raised a single brow appreciatively.

"Victor, meet Glinda. Victor is my oldest friend. And this lass is the one you're here to help."

Glinda took off her cloak, revealing a simple dress. She extended her hand for the bag Killian was holding.

"Lass, we shall give you room to work. The wolf should be sleeping for a while." He said to encourage her.

Victor and Killian walked away.

"I suppose I can see the appeal," Victor said.

Killian rolled his eyes, "I told you, I have no interest in those activities. I just want to find Zoso and Rumple and end them. Revenge is all I have left."

"If you say so, but if you're not interested, do you mind if I court the lady?" Victor asked with a smile.

Killian laughed. "I thought you didn't trust the witch."

Victor reddened, "Well, she seems lovely, and you trust her." He shrugged.

Killian nodded and turned his attention to Glinda as she cleansed the wolf, Ruby. He sat down on one of the beat-up chairs. Victor grabbed the other available chair and sat next to Killian.

Glinda approached Killian. "Do you have the item you want me to enchant?"

Killian reached into his pocket and took out a ruby pendant necklace from his pirate days. It was an expensive jewel. He handed her the necklace. "Make sure it's a strong spell."

She smiled. "I will."

She walked back to the wolf, whispered something in her ear, and started chanting. The pendant glowed a vibrant red. Once finished, she put the pendant around the wolf's furred neck. The pendant glowed once more as it surrounded the wolf's body and transformed her into a naked woman.

Killian averted his eyes, while Victor admired the sleeping form. When Glinda waved her hand over the body, a dress appeared, covering up the young girl.

Back in the forest, the unconscious hunter finally woke up with no memory of how or why he was there. He entered his humble home confused, but determined to find out what happened during his missing time.

In Haven Isles, the sandy beach had been the favorite training spot for Emma and Liam. On one of their last training days, before they finally went on a hunt, Liam glanced in Emma's direction as she took instructions from Mulan. He wondered about his mother. Emma had mentioned his mother was a force to be reckoned with. She was one of the best hunters the Isle had produced.

He was curious about her. Did he take after his father or did he have more of her features? After his recovery, he wanted to ask about her, but he could never get the words out. Then later he realized that his little brother was gone. If time truly moved as he was explained, then he would need to mourn his brother.

Emma was walking toward Liam,her long hair pulled up into a ponytail. She noticed a faraway look in his eyes. "Hey, Liam. Mulan says it's your turn. I think I upset her. Sorry."

Liam smiled at Emma snd shook his head. "You know she is going to take it out on me."

"I said I was sorry. Liam, are you alright?"

"I just miss my brother. I wish I could have been there for him. I wonder if he met a good girl. Maybe I have great-nephews out there."

"Don't let Blue hear you. You know she will oppose you seeking out any relatives. I'm sorry you missed out, but at least you get to know your origins."

"Emma, do you think you can show me my mother's archives? Sometimes I wonder if she would have married the man who was her soulmate if she were still alive?"

"Maybe, but you wouldn't be here. I've always hated that part. The soulmates thing is just another way they control you. Your mom, she didn't want that. She wanted to follow her heart."

"Do you think it's possible to fight against that bond?"

"Your mom did it." She shrugged. "Jonathan, that was the name of your mom's soulmate. After she left he fell in love with a mortal. I think it can be done. I imagine he was happy."

"Have you met your soulmate?"

Emma's eyes widened. "I don't think so."

"How can you not know your soulmate? You're about to go on your first hunt. Shouldn’t you have met him by now?"

Emma looked away. "Liam, Mulan is waiting for you. You're just going to anger her more and she will make you regret it."

Liam wanted to ask if he upset her, but turned to look at Mulan who was staring daggers his way.

Emma sat down in the sand. Liam was right she should have met her match by now, but for some reason, she hadn't yet. It made no sense. Unless he wasn't here. If her soulmate was out there, she would find him.

Merlin approached Emma. "Hello, young one. Are you ready for your magic training?"

Emma winced. "Can I have a break today?"

"I'm sorry, no you can't. Blue already opposes your training if you show her you have no interest she will surely use that as an excuse to make us stop. It will be a disservice to you and your abilities. I sense something is bothering you."

"Can you truly see everything that is to come?"

"I can see glimpses, why?"

"How is it possible that Liam's mom met someone who was not her soulmate and fell in love?"

Merlin didn't expect that question. "Is this about your soulmate?"

She turned to look at Liam. "Merlin, he shouldn't be here. His mom shouldn't have been able to meet someone out there but she did. It makes no sense. How is it the Isle let him in?"

"Emma, sometimes things happen because they're supposed to. Perhaps Alice was supposed to meet Liam's father. Some things escape logic. Magic is one of them."

"I know you know something you're not telling me. Merlin, I will not ask you what that is for now. I hope it's not a mistake trusting you."

"Emma, some things are revealed to me as needed. I can't give you answers I don't have. I believe Liam is connected somehow. I still don't know everything."

Emma and Liam had been training together for months now and were finally given their first assignment, much to Blue’s disapproval.

Merlin pulled Liam aside. “Liam, you have proven you're a hunter like your mother was. I know you and Emma will be leaving soon, but I have an assignment for you. Only you.”

Liam stared at the man, confused. “I thought we always have to go in pairs.”

“You will, but first you will retrieve a young lady showing signs of magic, and bring her here.” Merlin handed him a vial.

“I thought no one from the outside could come in?” Liam said as looked at the vial.

Merlin laughed. “That’s what the vial is for. Liam, there is a very important reason why it must be you. Alone. Sadly, I cannot say why. You must trust me.”

“What will I tell Emma?” Liam asked.

“I will explain this alteration to her. You two are going together, but will have to go on separate paths. There’s also a reason for her to go alone on this hunt,” Merlin said cryptically.

“You see the future, so is this part of the future to come?”

“It is. This is fated, and no one can escape fate,” Merlin simply said.

@rumdrum91 @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook @spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38

#Captain Swan #cssns18 #cs ff

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swanslieutenant · 4 years ago

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a place in time - chapter xiii

Summary: Emma’s an agent working to reunite missing people with their families when the biggest missing persons case of all time appears in front of her in a flash of bright, white light. Thousands of missing people from throughout history, including one particular pirate, appear on the shore of a lake in the middle of winter: none have aged a day since their disappearance and, with no memory of their missing time, must venture into a strange and uncertain future. Loosely based on the TV show “the 4400.”

Rating and Warnings: Teen. For now.

Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12

Read on AO3

Note: *shows up nearly 2 years late with a Tim Hortons hot chocolate* - apologies for the length it took for me to get this updated. It has been a hard/chaotic two years for me and this fic is a hard one to write, but things are settling a bit, so I will try not to leave it for that long again.

thanks to all the folks over at the @captainswanmoviemarathon discord channel for welcoming me in and helping me get this finished with the many many writing sprints it took!

___________________________________________________________

Neither Killian or Emma speak as they march back to her office, their steps quick and staccato against the polished floors. The world seems to be on a tilt, like Emma is walking through a funhouse with slanted floors, with the glass doors of the offices lining the hallway like the twisted and bendy mirrors of the carnival house, warping and distorting reality all around her.

Emma supposes she should be used to this feeling by now. After all, her entire world has been on a tilt since that night down at the lake, with the sudden appearance of thousands of people.

But this time it feels different. Like her normal life, or what has been her new normal at this point, has been shattered once again. What she thought to be true, who she thought she could trust and rely on – broken, once again.

I know him from my time.

When they reach her office, after unlocking the door, she gestures Killian ahead of her. He hasn’t said a word yet, and his face is solemn, the utter shock now an icy grit. His jaw is set, his eyes steel, the cold-hearted pirate that lurks beneath his charming veneer returned full force.

“This is his doing.” His voice is shaking with rage, the words more a growl than a sentence.

“This is crazy,” Emma says, swallowing the growing bile rising in her throat as she shuts the office door behind herself. She grips the side of her desk, her knuckles turning white, as she falls heavily into her desk chair. “How – are you sure that it’s the same guy?”

“Absolutely.”

He is still sanding by the door, hands curled into fists at his side, almost vibrating with fury. There is clearly some history here, and Emma remembers the vile that Gold spoke of Killian with when the returnees first arrived, how he had demanded for him to be locked up and kept away from the others.

“Who is he, Killian? How do you know him?”

“He’s a monster.” He spits the words, and then lifts his left hand, shaking his sleeve up his arm and rubbing at the scar that encircles his wrist, ragged and rough. “See this scar, Swan? He did it to me.”

She has wondered about the scar ever since she first saw it weeks ago, and now the shadow that had darkened his expression when she mentioned it then makes sense. She is truly sick now, her stomach twisting at the thought of her boss, the man she has sat across from in meetings and who controls this entire goddamn situation, literally attacking someone to the point of leaving such a horrific scar.

“He – dear god, Killian. That looks like he tried to cut your hand off!”

“It was no mere attempt,” Killian replies hollowly, eyes darkening. “He did cut it off.”

Emma blinks at him, and then stares at his hand, clearly attached to his arm. Now fair enough, she doesn’t know a lot about surgery or how re-attaching a limb would work, but Emma sure as hell knows there is no way Killian would have had his hand re-attached or be able to use it with 1700s medicine.

“He – what? I don’t understand. But your – your hand? How was it … fixed?”

“Magic.”

Emma’s heart stutters at the word. She leans back in her chair, stunned as if she’s been slapped.

“What?”

“A witch,” Killian continues, oblivious to Emma’s reaction, and he waves his right hand airily. “Or a fairy or some other manner of creature. I suppose I never actually asked her. My crew and I had come across her once before ever meeting Gold, and we retreated to her after his attack. She was a bit prickly, but she re-attached it for me after my crew begged her to. She had only a little magic left after running into trouble of her own, and she was no expert, hence the scar, but she did her best.”

Magic, witches, fairies. Her superpower remains silent, indicating Killian is telling the truth as he sees it, but Emma can’t believe it. Abruptly, Emma feels on the edge of tears. A hand re-attached by magic?

What?

Killian seems to finally notice her thunderstruck expression. “To you, Swan, magic is a myth. In my time, it was as common as your light switches. And clearly,” he adds, holding up his hand and flexing his fingers, “it worked.”

Seriously, what the hell is her life these days? Magic? Fine, she has no explanation for why Killian is standing in front of her, two and a half centuries after he should have died. But magic? No way. Aliens or scientific advancements in time travel make more sense than magic. But then she thinks of the video Anna had shown her of her sister controlling snowflakes as naturally as could be, and well, hell, magic at this point may make as much sense as anything else.

“I don’t understand,” Emma manages finally, wrenching her mind away from the literal concept of magic to the problem in front of her. Gold, Killian, time travel, his hand. “How – why did Gold cut your hand off?”

“I stole something from him.”

… Of course he did.

Her mind starting to burst at the seams, she can only gape back at Killian as he explains his history with Gold, utterly lost for words. In Killian’s time, Gold had been a powerful landowner in England, who ventured to the New World after making a bad deal and losing his fortune. He didn’t know how long Gold had been in America before Killian heard of him, but he did know was already successful and rich in his new surroundings, a dangerous businessman who no one dared cross.

Except Killian.

“As you may remember, Swan, at that time I was a wanted man by the English Crown, having stolen and burned many of their ships. They had done their own damage to me, and it was my utmost desire at the time to ruin them in any other way I could. So, when I heard rumours of an enchanted object that Gold had brought over from England, the last of his previous fortune and a gift from the king and royal family themselves, naturally, I wanted it. Besides, my crew and I hadn’t had a good heist in months. It was a hard, cold winter, and the stormy weather had kept many ships trapped in European harbours, and my men were itching for some action.”

Even amidst her shock at this whole situation, Emma has to resist the urge to roll her eyes – pirates.

“My crew and I were moored in a town called Newport, near where his new estate was. We were restocking the Jolly Roger when I heard he’d left the town for business and would not be back for a fortnight, leaving his mansion unprotected.”

“So, you of course just waltzed in and stole it. What even was it?”

He flashes her a devious grin, a glimmer of his charming, mischievous self breaking through his dark demeanour. “I’m a hell of a pirate, love, even on land. It was only too easy to sneak into his manor. We took everything we could get our hands on, and then I found this object, the king’s gift.” Killian cups his hands, as if he was holding several apples in his palms. “It was roughly this size. I couldn’t tell you what it was called, for I’ve never come across anything like it before. I thought perhaps a music box or a small chest at first. It was circular, with the sides plated in pure gold leaf. The top of it was beautiful, no doubt painted by the finest artist to represent a dark indigo sky with white stars emblazoned upon it. I wondered if it was only the case for the true treasure within, but I could never get the damn thing to open. My crew and I tried everything we could think of – prying it, smashing it, hammering it. Nothing. It seemed empty inside, too, for when you’d knock on it, it was hollow. After all the efforts for seemingly nothing, I thought about simply selling it. But, then I heard Gold was desperate to have it returned, that he had ripped his manor apart looking for it, so I knew it was something valuable indeed.”

Emma is trying to picture the object Killian describes, and she has no idea what it could be either. Sounds to her like a little box, like something you’d find in an old antique or knick-knack store. “Okay, so what did you do with it then?”

“I buried it, somewhere safe where I knew Gold couldn’t find it.”

The entire tale is the most Killian has spoken about his past as a pirate since appearing in this time, and Emma supposes she shouldn’t be surprised it ends with a tale of buried treasure. Typical.

“Besides that,” Killian continues slowly, and he rubs one of his upper arms absently, as if recalling a past chill. “My crew didn’t like it. Once we realized we couldn’t do anything with it or allow Gold to have it again, we needed it off the ship as soon as we could.”

“Didn’t like it?” Emma echoes, her skin rippling with goosebumps. “What do you mean?”

Killian frowns, and he rubs at his chin thoughtfully. “I know you don’t believe in magic, Swan, but if you saw this, you would. Even though we couldn’t get it open, the damned thing seemed to suck the energy of the area around it. People were grumpier near it, more prone to anger, and more likely to need hours upon hours of sleep after being around it for a long time. As if it pulled their energy into itself and made them weaker, less honourable versions of themselves.”

He’s right, she doesn’t believe in magic. The thought of a strangle little box, gifted to her boss in the 1700s that caused hardened pirates to want it out of their sight, is something out of a movie. But … after all Emma has seen and all she’s heard, even just in the last few minutes, perhaps she better start believing.

“In any regard, we buried it and forgot about it for a few months until we returned one day to Newport. Gold knew my ship – hell, everyone knew my ship, then – and he was watching for it. He surprised us and thought to kill me and my crew, but realized rather quickly if we were all dead, he’d have no way to find out where the object was hidden. So instead … he thought to teach me a lesson.” He holds his left hand up again. “Hence, this.”

Emma leans back into her desk chair, sinking into the old cushion and letting out a deep breath. She’s starting to get a tight, fluttery feeling in her chest she gets when she’s becoming overwhelmed, the feeling that usually spurs her to run, run as fast as she can.

But there’s no running from this. This, this twisted world with time travel and now apparently magic, is her reality.

Killian falls silent, finally taking a seat opposite her instead of standing, fuming, by the door. But Emma doesn’t know what to say back to him, so they sit in silence for several long minutes. After all, what do you say back to someone who is telling you about their adversarial meetings in the 1740s with your boss, who was the one to cut off his hand that was then re-attached with magic?

Emma has always been a logical person; she’s had to be. There was no room for whimsy or belief in the unknown during her childhood, not when she was burned too early by a world that only showed her its dark and cruel side. Her mind is so overwhelmed, she’s not even sure how to begin processing all this. If Killian wasn’t between her and the door, she may have started running.

“So, you buried this object,” she begins, forcing herself to focus on the tangible parts of Killian’s story, though it’s not enough to not notice the irony of discussing ancient buried treasure with a pirate. “Probably in a place built over by a parking lot, or so deep underground that its lost to history, or found by a random person and sitting on someone’s grandma’s shelf –”

“That seems unlikely,” Killian muses. “I would hazard a guess it has never been found. After all, that must be why I’m here, in your time. He’s after the object again. He couldn’t get it from me then, and for whatever reason, he’s brought me here to find it.”

Emma has come to the same conclusion herself now, but she shakes her head in dismay. “I just don’t understand. If he wants this thing back so bad, why not get it from you back then, not invent time travel and wait nearly three hundred years for it?”

He shrugs, but his eyes flash. “Only the devil himself knows what madness lurks in that monster’s mind.”

Emma sighs and rubs at her eyes. If ridiculous was a line crossed back when Killian first said he knew Gold from his time, this situation is so far gone, Emma’s not even sure what to make of it anymore.

“So where is it buried? The object?”

Killian doesn’t answer, idly tracing the scar around his wrist. She watches him, wondering if he’s simply trying to remember, but when the silence stretches on, she realizes he has no intention of answering her, and for whatever reason, that hurts.

“Killian … you know you can trust me.”

“I do trust you, Swan,” he says, and his voice softens as he meets her eyes. “It’s Gold I don’t. This object, whatever its value to him, has been safe for nearly three centuries. Its secret is safest with just one person.” He pauses briefly. “For now.”

Though still stung, Emma nods. “Okay. For now.” She lets out a deep breath, and runs a hand through her hair, combing out the tangles. “Well, if this object is really what Gold is after and you’re the only person alive who knows where it is, it makes sense why Gold wanted you arrested at first.”

“He what?” Killian’s voice is sharp, his eyes flashing with anger again, and Emma winces. She supposes she hadn’t told Killian that part yet.

As his expression darkens, Emma explains how Gold had first wanted Killian detained more formally than all the other returnees due to his reaction down at the lake where he first fought and argued with the Storybrooke agents, along with his past as a pirate and wanted criminal. How, now that she knows this history, it was most likely just a ruse for Gold to be able to keep a closer eye on Killian than the others.

“That slimy bastard.”

Silently, Emma agrees. She doesn’t know what Gold is planning, but she already knows whatever it is, it isn’t good. At her last meeting with him, when he’d asked her about ‘anything odd’ with the returnees, she’d left the conversation with a pit in her stomach, the root of doubt and suspicion that has now blossomed into fully fledged mistrust and, frankly, fear.

“We have to get you out of here. Out of Storybrooke, away from Gold. It’s not safe for you here anymore.”

“I concur.”

But then Emma frowns. Regina is away today, attending meetings offsite in regards to the returnees’ release, and Emma knows there is no way she is going to get Killian discharged from here without her permission. Any other returnee, maybe, but not Killian the media magnet.

She could attempt to sneak him out, but if they are caught … well, it was bad enough that Emma was seen by the media near him during his previous escape attempt. If they are caught again when she’s aiding him in an escape attempt … she’d be re-assigned to another returnee at the very least or fired at the very worst, and Killian will be kept here, in Gold’s clutches, for even longer.

“I can’t get you out of here tonight,” she says, swallowing down the anxiety that comes with the thought. “We have to wait until Regina is here, and do it all by the books or … well, I don’t know what will happen. She’ll be back tomorrow.” Emma sighs, and rises to her feet. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to the barracks. I think you may be safer there with the guards all around.”

They leave her office, walking carefully around the corner leading to the foyer where the media conference had been. But it’s over now, all the chairs and the podium cleaned up.

The walk to the barracks is mostly in silence, both of them lost in thought. When they reach the lobby, Emma grips Killian’s arm, pausing him in his tracks.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” she warns, her voice a whisper. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow to talk to Regina about your release.”

“When have I ever gotten into trouble?” he replies teasingly, and he rests his hand over hers briefly before moving towards the staircase. “Goodbye, Emma.”

She watches him head upstairs to his room, until he’s gone through a door and out of sight. Emma should go back to her office and get some semblance of work done, but she pauses instead. The cafeteria is just ahead of her, buzzing with the hum of conversation. It’s lunch now, and the returnees are free to move about as the media are gone. An idea has occurred to her, and instead of heading back to her office, she walks into the busy cafeteria.

Near one of the wide windows at the opposite end, Emma spots David and Mary Margaret. As she’s walking over, Mary Margaret notices her first, brightening with a wide smile and shining eyes.

“Hi Emma!”

Their enthusiasm still makes her a bit uncomfortable, but she tries to smile genuinely as she takes a seat opposite them. They are smiling widely at her, clearly thinking she’s here for a friendly chat or at least a step in the right direction for their relationship, and suddenly Emma wishes that was all she was here for. A pleasant, light conversation with the parents she lost for 28 years, returned to her miraculously by (as it’s truly appearing to be) magic.

And yet here she is instead, a dark cloud of fear and suspicion hanging over her. She glances around before speaking, not really sure who she should be on the lookout for, but in any case, the other returnees and agents are pre-occupied with their own meal or conversation. And, besides, she supposes she has an excuse to be sat here talking with David and Mary Margaret – they are, after all, her parents.

“We’ve been wanting to tell you,” Mary Margaret starts brightly, before Emma can get up the nerve to speak. “Graham told us that once the first group of returnees start to be released, he thinks David and I will be allowed out for more visits. We were hoping, well …” she trails off suddenly, uncertain, and David grasps her hand tightly, squeezing it for support. Mary Margaret smiles at him, and continues, her voice much stronger now, “Maybe we could meet you and Henry somewhere for a meal one day?”

“Oh,” Emma says, taken aback. “Um, yeah, that that would be great.”

They smile in delight, and Emma finds she does truly mean that. If they had said something like this even a few days ago, she probably would’ve scowled and made up some excuse as to why it couldn’t happen, but instead, she is already imagining them at Henry’s favourite restaurant, with him showing them his favourite dishes and desserts. “Um, Henry will be so excited to hear about that. And I want to hear more about it too, but first – I came here to ask you for a favour.”

They nod, exchanging a glance with each other, plainly thrilled that whatever this is about, Emma has decided to ask for their help. Their willingness makes Emma’s heart twinge; they’re so happy to have anything from her, even if it’s an indication of a grain of trust, that it lights up their whole expressions as if she just agreed to start calling them mom and dad.

She gives herself a quick mental shake, and focuses again. She leans forward slightly, lowering her voice so they can only just hear her. “There’s something … weird going on around here, I’m still trying to figure it all out, but I need your help in the meantime.”

David and Mary Margaret trade worried glances at her tone. “Of course,” David says firmly. “What’s going on? What is it about?”

Emma hesitates. She wants to tell them what Killian told her, but it’s not her story to share. Besides, the less people who know about Gold, the better. Instead, she says, “Can you keep an eye on Killian Jones for me for the rest of the day? Make sure he’s doing okay and keeping himself out of trouble?”

David frowns, and crosses his arms across his chest. “The pirate?” he demands, and Mary Margaret glares at him.

“It’s important,” Emma continues, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I – can’t really say much else, but it’s important.”

“Of course, Emma,” Mary Margaret says, and she elbows David, who, reluctantly, nods. “That’s no problem at all. We’ll ask him to have dinner with us tonight.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” She then gets to her feet, and disappointment flashes across their faces. She winces. “Sorry, I have to get back to work. But, I – uh, well I’m looking forward to that dinner one day soon.”

The disappointment fades a bit, and they say their goodbyes. Emma returns to her office for the rest of the afternoon, trying to get through her stack of endless paperwork, but it’s pointless. She gets nothing done, her mind on Gold and buried treasure and even when she gets home, she’s a nervous wreck all night, unable to focus on anything at all.

Henry is his usual chatty self, but Emma can’t keep focused on what he’s saying. She has no patience for cooking tonight either, so instead orders in pizza, much to her son’s delight. As he’s munching on his fourth piece of deep-dish pepperoni, Henry pauses mid-bite, glancing at Emma’s untouched first slice.

“Mom? Are you ok?”

“Sorry, kid,” she replies, and she forces herself to smile reassuringly. “Just distracted by work. Want to play a game tonight?”

He is satisfied with that answer, and playing Clue with Henry does help to pass the time, but her heart isn’t in it and she is soundly beaten in each of the three rounds they play. When it’s finally her son’s bedtime and he’s sound asleep, peaceful and warm in his bed, Emma herself gets ready for bed.

Sleep, however, has never seemed so far away. Her mind roils with the revelations of the day, her stomach turning with nausea and anxiety. With no wink of sleep in sight, Emma sits up in bed instead. She leans against the solid wood of her headboard, and hugs her knees into her chest, watching the tree outside her window sway with the cold wind.

It’s so simple, to watch the trees, illuminated by the street lights below. They are just as they were yesterday, unchanged by the revelation of magic such as controlling snow or re-attaching hands or transporting hundreds of people through time.

She watches the trees for a while, and at one point, Emma finally drifts off, her dreams a jumble of pirate ships and bright white light.

Those dreams, however, are abruptly broken by a shrill ring of her cellphone.

Emma jolts awake, and grabs the phone from the nightstand, answering it without reading the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Emma, it’s Anna!” Her colleague’s voice is frantic and harried, and Emma sits up, her heartbeat accelerating.

“Anna?”

“You need to get back here to Storybrooke right away. It’s – it’s about Killian Jones. One of the returnees was found dead and –”

Emma swings her legs out from under the covers, the floor cold beneath her bare feet, as icy as the shot of pure panic running through her. “What? Is – is Killian –”

“No, no, he’s fine,” Anna says hurriedly, as if just realizing the implication of her words. Emma’s heart stutters again, her emotions of fear and relief in whiplash. “Well, I mean he’s not hurt, he’s not quite okay as you would say, but –”

“Anna, what the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean – okay, like I was saying, I was staying here tonight with Elsa, and then – well, there was a commotion maybe an hour ago and when I went to see what had happened … well, one of the returnees is dead. It’s pretty clear they were attacked … like, with a sword.”

Emma’s heart sinks though she’s sure she already knows. If he’s not the one dead, and the victim was attacked with a sword …

“And what does this have to do with Killian?”

“He’s been arrested for the murder.”

_______________________________________________________

The drive back to Storybrooke is a blur. She’d woken up her neighbour across the hall and half-dragged her over to watch Henry and get him off to school in the morning, only telling her there was an emergency and she had to leave right now.

When she makes it onto Storybrooke’s grounds, she careens into an empty parking spot, half out of the vehicle before she’s stopped the engine. The main returnee barracks building is bright and illuminated, and Emma marches towards it, her heart pounding heavily with each step she takes.

On the steps leading to the building, outside the main doors, stands a group of several individual Emma recognizes as police and FBI officers from their emblazoned jackets. As she approaches, one holds her hand up to block Emma’s path.

“Hold up! No one is allowed entry right now. A federal investigation is underway.”

Emma’s hands curl into fists at her side, and she digs out her identification badge from her jacket pocket. She has no time to argue. “You don’t understand, I need to get in there.”

The officers’ frown at her badge, and she opens her mouth to furiously continue, when a voice calls her name from within the main doors.

“Emma?” The guards move aside, revealing Kristoff Reinsdyr, one of the guards at Storybrooke, looking pale and frazzled. “Thank goodness you’re here.”

One of the FBI officers scowls, and looks Emma up and down. “We have orders to not let anyone else in until Commander Hua says –”

“Emma needs to come in. She’s Jones’ agent in charge of his case here.”

Kristoff gestures her forward, and Emma doesn’t wait to see if the officers complain again, though they do move out of her way finally. She and Kristoff hurry inside, where the brightness of the fluorescently lit building makes her eyes sting as he leads her towards the back staircase.

“Glad you’re here, Emma. Anna told me she called you,” Kristoff says, as they take the steps two at a time up to the fourth floor to the isolation and interview area. Emma is reminded sharply of the first time she had come up here, when she’d met Killian the first night, when he’d been belligerent and thrown in here to cool down.

The thought sets her teeth on edge. “Kristoff, what the hell is this about? Anna said there had been a murder?”

He hesitates. “Yes, it seems like it. There was some commotion around midnight in the residences. We thought perhaps it was a fight, but when we got there to see what had happened …” He trails off, and shakes his head once. “It was awful, Emma. Truly horrific.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and Emma decides she doesn’t want to know. “And – they think Killian did it? Where is he now?”

“In one of the interview rooms upstairs. He was with a few of the other guards for a bit, until the FBI got here about an hour ago. Now he’s in with their commander.”

They reach the top floor, and Kristoff leads her down a cold, empty hallway to the cluster of interview rooms at the end of the corridor. Kristoff opens a small side door, into a small observation room that faces the larger interview room through one-way glass. Three FBI officers are in the room already and they frown at her, but she simply flashes her identification badge in their direction before looking through the one-way glass at the scene ahead.

Killian is seated in a similar room to the one she first met him in, his face smooth and impassive, as cold as she’s ever seen it. His wrists are bound with handcuffs, chained to the table in the centre of the room. Mulan Hua, the commander of the Boston FBI who Emma recognizes from the lake, is seated across from him, watching him with a careful, quiet gaze.

“Let’s go over this again,” she is saying, her voice strained with patience. Emma isn’t sure how long Killian has been talking to her, but by his sour expression, she knows they’ve already been over this conversation several times. “Tell me exactly what happened this evening.”

“As I have told you a thousand times since I was dragged from my bed by your deranged guards,” he snaps, drawing the words out so they are each peppered with a near growl. “I have no idea what happened. I was in my room all evening, save for dinner. All I know is what you’ve told me: a man has been found dead, and you suspect I had something to do with it.”

“Murdered,” Mulan corrects, her face solemn. “He’s not only dead, he was murdered.”

Killian rattles the handcuffs pointedly. “Not by my hand. If I’d done it, I’d bloody well confess. I may be a pirate, but I’m no coward. I’ve committed my fair share of atrocities, but I will not confess to something I did not do.”

“How do you explain the fact that your sword was found discarded nearby, stained with blood?”

It could be a damning statement, but Killian laughs, rumbling and low. “You think me fool enough to leave a murder weapon lying about where any bumbling twit can come across it? Not to mention that I haven’t had my sword since I arrived in this bloody time when your guards confiscated it, so how, pray tell, do you think I managed to get my sword back?”

Mulan sighs, irritation flitting across her features. “Well, we know how you did it. We have evidence. Video evidence of you removing the sword from the Collection Room.”

Emma’s eyes widen, and she feels abruptly like she’s been punched in the gut. They have what?

Killian, however, isn’t fazed by this bombshell; after all, he probably has no idea what a video is. “I don’t care what evidence you say you have. It’s all false, I didn’t do it and I haven’t had my sword in weeks. So, either arrest me and throw me in a dungeon, or let me go for I have nothing more to say to you.”

And at that, he falls silent. Mulan tries to get him to speak again, but to no avail. Eventually, she sighs and gets to her feet, the chair scraping loudly against the floor and making Emma flinch. “Okay. You think about things, and I’ll be back with something for you to eat and drink.”

As she heads for the door, Emma sees her chance to speak with her. She darts past Kristoff and the other FBI officers in the observation room, out into the hallway, catching Mulan just as she’s shutting the door behind her.

“Commander,” Emma calls. “What the hell is going on?”

“Oh, Agent Swan, I’m glad you’re here.” Mulan breathes out heavily. Now that she’s out of the interview room, she appears tired, her face pale, her eyebrows pinched together with stress. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you. Do you have any idea why Jones would want to kill Henry Jekyll?”

“No!” Emma replies vehemently. “Killian wouldn’t kill – who the hell even is that?”

“He is another returnee. Or rather, was. He was one of Jones’s roommates when he was released from isolation. He was found dead earlier by his current roommate. He’d been stabbed several times.”

Emma stares back at her, lost for words, as Kristoff peers out of the other room, as if making sure everything is okay.

Mulan nods at him. “Officer, can you get me a sandwich and water bottle for Jones?”

He agrees, and disappears back down the hall the way he had come with Emma. Mulan turns back to Emma, and at her expression, lets out another deep sigh.

“Emma,” she says gently, almost understandingly. “I know you must have gotten close to Jones while he’s been here –” Emma inhales sharply, but Mulan doesn’t seem to notice “– since you’re his agent and all. Obviously, you don’t want to believe he could have done something like this. But you have to remember that he’s a criminal. He was an outlaw and a pirate, wanted by the British Navy at the time for treason and murder. And that’s just the recorded crimes. We really don’t know anything about him, or what he’s capable of. I’m not surprised something like this has come up, honestly.”

“I am,” Emma replies bluntly. “There is no way Killian killed someone, not when tomorrow – I mean, we are trying to get all the returnees out of here not keep them locked up longer!”

Mulan pinches the bridge of her nose, and gestures for Emma to follow her. “Come with me, take a look at what we found.”

Emma follows her into a second interview room, empty save for a steel table with a laptop on it. Mulan opens the laptop, entering her credentials to log in. It seems to take an exorbitant amount of time, Emma’s nerves fraying further with each passing second. The screen opens to a generic Federal Bureau of Investigation backdrop, and Mulan clicks on a video saved to the desktop, labelled simply ‘surveillance footage.’

“This is from back in early February,” Mulan explains, as the video loads up to reveal a room Emma recognizes as the Collection Room in the basement, where she visited once before to collect Mary Margaret, David and Killian’s belonging, with its shelves upon shelves of boxes and plastic containers.

“Security pulled it for us once we identified the sword. Watch.”

The recording is of the deserted collection room for several moments, blurry and shrouded in shadows, the time blinking in the corner of the video as 3:30 a.m. Then, grainy white light floods the room, the main door swinging open to let in the hallway light.

Through the pixelated footage, Emma recognizes Killian as he strides into the room, confident as ever. He walks to the back of the room without hesitation, to a small area behind a chain link fence which reaches to the ceiling. He disappears off camera as he steps into the fenced-in area, but he’s only hidden for a few moments before he steps back into view.

In his hands, is a sheathed sword, its handle black and simple, apparent even in the poor footage. He removes it from the sheath, and holds it up to his eye level, admiring the blade. He then re-sheathes it and slips out of the room, the light fading from the room as the door swings shut behind him.

The video stops, and Emma stares at it, dumbfounded. There it is, plain as day. Evidence of Killian retrieving the sword.

But she shakes her head as she remembers her own visit to the Collection Room more clearly. “No, no, that’s not possible. Listen, I know he couldn’t have gotten the sword. It was checked out, I remember because I went and got his other stuff and saw it on the list.”

“The list?” Mulan frowns. “What list?”

“There was a list in the Collection Room, a list of each person’s items which weren’t allowed to be checked out, but his sword had a note that it was taken out. So he couldn’t have done it, because you needed special permission to get those restricted items out. I remember because I was –”

Emma trails off, because Mulan is watching her with a skeptical frown. She clearly doesn’t believe Emma, and after all, why would she? There’s video proof of Killian getting the sword himself.

Kristoff knocks on the door to the interview room then, opening it to show the water bottle and wrapped sandwich in his hand. “Here you are, Commander.”

“Perfect,” Mulan says, closing the laptop and striding towards him. “Thank you, officer.”

She’s already back in the hallway, food in hand, marching down to the Killian’s interview room, before Emma, still stunned by the video, springs into action.

She hurries out into the hallway and, before Mulan can open the door to re-join Killian, blocks her path. Killian may be her … well, Emma’s not sure if she could even call him a friend, but whatever he is, he’s her responsibility. Returnees are always given legal counsel if they require it for any reason, including an active criminal investigation whether they are defendant or plaintiff.

“Does he have a lawyer on their way?”

“No, he declined one.”

Mulan says it calmly, but something about it is the last straw for Emma. The last twenty-four hours have nearly broken her – the video of Elsa, the knowledge that Gold is from the 1700s too, that magic is the most probable reason why all these people have shown up here, and now this: her … returnee arrested for murder and being questioned without legal counsel.

“He’s from the 1700s!” Emma shouts, and Mulan flinches in surprise. Even Killian glances over to the door, as if he heard her too. “Of course he declined one, I don’t know if they had lawyers back then. He has no idea about our laws or processes or anything. Killian doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, he needs a lawyer!”

Mulan regards Emma quietly, and she shrugs. “Well, I’ll speak to him about it again, but I doubt he’ll change his mind.”

She opens the door with the food, and as she does, Emma leans slightly around her, to peer into the room. Killian is watching Mulan enter, stony-faced, but for a moment, a single moment before the door slams shut behind Mulan, he catches Emma’s eye.

If only magic was real; maybe she could send him a telepathic message to ask for a lawyer. But, Emma’s no magician, and the door swings shut, the breeze catching her in the face and rustling her hair.

“Here,” Mulan says, her voice muffled by the door, and Emma hurries back to the other room, to the one-way glass so she can hear better. The other agents are glaring at her now with open hostility, but Emma ignores them, moving past them so she is standing directly in front of the one-way glass.

Mulan has resumed her seat, the water bottle and sandwich on the table between them, but Killian doesn’t move to reach for them.

“Listen,” she says, casting a pointed look to the one-way glass. “Before we talk anymore about this, I’m going to remind you one more time that you are allowed to have legal representation before speaking with me.”

Killian remains silent.

Mulan huffs a sigh. “Alright. Okay, so let’s go over this again, shall we?”

Killian leans forward, the handcuff chains jangling loudly against the steel table. “Commander,” he says, intently staring now at her across the table. His tone has changed, the defensive snarls replaced with a charming lilt, soothing and persuasive. “You are a smart woman, smarter than those oafs who were in here before you. You know I didn’t do this. Even if I was so idiotic to kill a man I had met only a handful of times on the eve of being released from this prison, you know as well as I that any criminal worth their salt wouldn’t leave a bloody murder weapon tied to them and them alone near a massacred body should they hope to get away with the crime. Whoever did this wanted you to find that sword, to know that it was mine so you would come to me right away and keep me locked up here.”

Mulan narrows her eyes, and she asks, only half-jokingly, “So what? Someone is setting you up?”

Killian’s gaze flicks over to the door, to where he had seen Emma, before he shrugs, as if the suggestion is ludicrous. But it’s enough to clue Emma in.

Of course. He’s right, he has no motive to kill Jekyll. But someone else does. Someone else, who has something to lose if Killian is released from Storybrooke with the rest of the returnees.

Gold.

He must’ve seen them at the news conference, must know Killian would’ve told Emma everything about their history together. Know that, of course, Emma would try everything in her power to get Killian out of here before Gold could do anything like lock him up like he had always wanted to. So he moved faster, found a way to keep him here, in his grasp where he hopes to get the location of the mysterious object out of Killian, once and for all.

“Emma?” Kristoff asks, reaching out a hand to her in concern, and Emma realizes he and the FBI officers are staring at her.

She waves them away, realization and horror roaring in her ears as loud as thunder. She is still trying to process this, when in the interview room, Killian leans back in his chair, his expression dark and cold.

“Perhaps it is time I speak with an attorney.”

#cs ff #cs mc ff #captain swan #ouat #cs fic #a place in time #hope people like this one!#it's been a long time so i'm grateful for anyone still reading

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