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#i've said it before and i'll say it again: my sincere reading of margaret is that she could fully fuck a woman and she'd still
persianflaw · 11 months
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🦇 trick or treat!! 🦇 -ypq
happy halloween, andy! here's a teeny piece of my margaret/kellye WIP for you:
Kellye seemed hesitant. “Have you ever done anything… well, with a woman before?” Margaret shrugged before getting up to close the drapes. “Oh, my girlfriends and I kissed each other for practice when we were in school. Played silly little games, touched each other, things like that. You know, things that all girls do before they’re old enough to go out with boys.” When she turned around, Kellye looked more than a little shell-shocked. “I… don’t know if that is what all girls do, Maj– Margaret.”
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suwya · 3 years
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Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 6
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Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."
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Rating: M
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Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
AO3
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A/N: Sorry for the waiting, but real life came along and I had to stop writing for a couple of weeks. Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta reader I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. Happy Labour Day!
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Chapter 6 . .
Be not inhospitable to strangers,
lest they be angels in disguise.
(W. B. Yeats)
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When Killian regained consciousness he found himself in what reminded him of a military hospital. There were thin white curtains around his bed, but through them he could spot other beds like his, most of them empty. The room seemed large and dimly lit.
He closed his eyes and remembered the crash landing, the unknown desert planet, the great rock that was about to crush Henry, and that feeling of unease and imminent danger he had felt just before the impact. Where was he? And above all what kind of situation was he in, a good or a bad one? He opened his eyes again, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman was checking his IV, and a nearby monitor was beeping intermittently.
Killian tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his lungs made him desist immediately. He groaned loudly.
“Look who’s awake.” Said the woman, who was now staring at him. “Hello, handsome.” She added cheerfully.
Killian had found himself dealing with uncharted waters several times in his life. He decided to play the waiting game. “This is usually my line, well, more or less.”
“Really? In this case, I'll warn my husband not to approach you.”
“Don’t worry I'm not into men, not recently at least.” He smirked.
“Oh, but my husband is quite the charming one.”
“I still prefer the company of a fair lady, if I could choose.” He winked and chuckled, and a dull pain made him gasp.
“Take it easy.” She immediately shifted her attitude from playful to worried. “How do you feel?”
“As if I've been hit by a rocket.”
“Not a rocket, but yes, you’ve been hit hard. You’ve suffered two broken ribs. And believe me, you were lucky, it could have been worse. Do you mind if I run some tests and see how you react?”
“No problem.”
While the woman was busy measuring his temperature, making him follow a small blue LED light with his gaze, and extracting some blood to examine later, he took advantage of the opportunity to observe her more closely. She had short black hair and green eyes, bright and lively in contrast to her very delicate skin. Killian found himself thinking of another pair of green eyes, which had been filling his thoughts frequently lately. The memory brought him back to reality quickly.
“What is this place?” He inquired, eager to know what had happened while he was unconscious.
“Welcome to Vernal-Den.” She answered smiling.
Killian tried to remember if he had ever read about this planet. “Never heard of it.”
“Yeah, we’re not very popular.”
Was she too concentrated on checking-in his vitals, or was she being too concise on purpose? He didn’t know, but he intended to keep an eye on her. “How long was I out?”
“A while.” Another elusive answer.
He decided to test the waters. “Were there ….other injured people with me?”
“If you’re referring to Henry and Emma, they are perfectly fine.” She seemed sincere. “They are staying at our place. Henry has visited you every day since you came in.”
“And Emma?”
“Well, she can’t come in. She’s not a relative of yours. But she has spent long hours sitting just outside that door.” She said pointing towards the exit. “I had to order her to go home and get some rest.”
After that she excused herself, saying that she had to attend to other patients.
He realized she hadn’t even told him her name. He didn’t know if he could trust her or not. The fact that she had avoided some of his questions sent chills down his spine. And most of all there was the Emma problem.
Why couldn’t she visit him? Was it true that it was only a matter of rules? Or was she in some kind of peril? He needed to know what was happening behind those doors that separated him from the woman that had been pestering his dreams in the last ten years of his life. He had to know that she was alright. To hell with rules! He thought. And by the way, when was the last time he followed one. He had to get out of this place. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his lungs was so strong that his vision started to blur and cold sweat formed on his temples. He lay back down on the bed, aware that in his conditions he couldn’t have gone far before collapsing unconscious on the floor. He promised himself to solve the problem as soon as he had enough strengths, but he couldn't dwell too much on that thought, because sleep was reclaiming his mind again.
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~·~·~·~
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Time passed very slowly, or so it seemed, but maybe it was simply the fact that every day looked the same. Killian was mostly asleep, probably due to the painkillers introduced through the IV, and when he woke up he couldn't tell how long he had been out, he couldn't even tell if it was day or night. There were no windows in that room.
During one of the moments when his mind regained consciousness, he felt the mattress drop slightly to one side and he slowly opened his eyes.
“You are awake! How do you feel? Can you breathe? Of course you can, you would be dead otherwise! Does it hurt?” Henry was sitting at the end of the bed, and he was asking a lot of questions, as usual. “Sorry.” He suddenly looked contrite. “I should let you rest, but…”
“It’s ok, lad.” Killian cut him off. “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece.”
The boy greeted him with a wide grin.
Killian remembered the last moments before getting injured, and he was relieved to know that he had been able to prevent that rock from hitting Henry. But other worries crowded his mind. “How about your mom?”
“She’s fine. She’s outside. They won’t let her in. You know, only relatives and all that stuff.” He explained.
“I see. And why are you…?”
Henry didn’t let him finish the question. “I told them I’m your son.” He whispered with a conspiratory smile.
“Clever boy.” Killian’s chuckle turned soon into a cough due to the pain.
“Does it hurt?” The boy asked, frowning.
The man dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t want the lad to feel responsible for his well-being. “How many days have passed since we landed here?” He asked, changing the subject.
“I don't know exactly.” And at Killian’s questioning look, he added, “It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
“People live underground here,” The boy started to explain, “With no opportunity to look outside. And there are no clocks. My watch had probably broken when we arrived, it doesn’t work anymore.”
The man hummed, he was starting to understand. The lack of windows, the elusive answer he had received from the dark-haired nurse… everything was beginning to tally in Killian’s head. “I want you to think carefully about everything you saw outside this room. Did you feel something was wrong?”
The boy shrugged. “I don't know.” He seemed to ponder. “This place is strange. Lots of corridors and passages underground. We are not allowed to go out into the open. They say it’s dangerous. But I never felt a threat or something. I would rather say it’s boring.”
“Why boring?”
Henry was trying to find the right words to explain it. “All the days are the same, people repeat the same actions every day. They say it’s useful to maintain a routine. But I don’t think Mary Margaret and David are bad people.”
“I’m sorry, who?” Killian asked.
“Oh, yeah, Mary Margaret, she is your nurse. We’re staying at her home. She is very nice. And David is her husband. He showed me the greenhouse. It’s awesome and huge, you should see it! But I don’t think he works there. I don’t know what his job is.”
Routine? New people? A greenhouse? Well, that was a lot of information to process. But Killian felt sleep calling him back. Next time I see that lady Margaret, I’m going to ask her not to put more painkillers in my IV. He thought. “Thank you, Henry, for everything. But I may need to rest for a while now.” He managed to say before falling asleep again.
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~·~·~·~
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Emma knew Killian was feeling better, Henry had told her about their short chat, and some of her child's enthusiasm had even infected her positively, but she continued to feel restless, she wanted to make herself useful. Most of all, she wanted to see Killian again.
All this absurd situation was her fault. And no, she was not thinking about the fact that Killian was lying on a hospital bed because of some bad decisions she had made lately. No. She was not going down that path again. She had already spent a lot of hours regretting many choices done in the last month.
But this was nonsensical, why couldn’t she visit a friend that was hurt and maybe in need of some company? She had actually had a chance to say that she was his wife; after all in the eyes of her guests, she and Killian had a son together, so why not lie a bit more and make Mary Margaret believe that she and Killian were married. But the thought of a possible long time spent together on this planet feigning to be a happily married couple scared her, and she couldn’t go on with the lie.
So there she was, sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room. She had spent more hours there than she could count.
David had passed by to greet his wife, and he had offered to take Henry with him, on the way back home. So she was left alone with her thoughts.
Mary Margaret peeked out the door with a steaming mug in her hand. “Take this. It will help.”
She agreed with a nod. “Thank you.” She sipped some of the hot liquid and it felt like her nerves were starting to relax a little.
“You should go home and rest. It's late.” The woman said.
“Mary Margaret let me enter.” Emma pleaded for the umpteenth time.
“We have already talked about it. You know I can’t do that. There are strict rules down here, and the best way for us to survive is to follow them.”
“This is insane. I’m not a dangerous criminal or someone who is plotting to destroy this planet. I just want to see him. Please.” She begged.
The dark-haired woman seemed to be pondering all the possible consequences. “All right.” She sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m going inside and leave the door ajar, by mistake, of course. I have to check some very important documents, so I’ll be busy and concentrated. I’m not going to ask you what you’re going to do in the next... fifteen minutes or so. Okay?”
“Thank you.” Emma handed her the cup back, rising from her chair. “You won’t regret it.”
After Mary Margaret disappeared behind the door, Emma waited some minutes before going after her. The room was large and there were many beds, she had no idea where Killian was, but after a quick look at the surroundings, she discovered that only a couple of all the beds were occupied.
She approached one of those and gently opened the curtain trying not to disturb the patient lying inside.
Killian seemed asleep. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. She could only imagine the pain he was going through. She had her heart in her throat because she felt responsible for the situation. If they hadn't taken a detour because she had requested it, they'd probably all be home safe and sound by now.
“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a painful grin.
Immersed as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that he had woken up. She smiled, trying to be strong and not show her inner turmoil. “Do they treat you well here?”
“I'm not complaining. The nurse is kind and the food is edible.” He tried to downplay the situation. “Although I would prefer the care and attention of a certain blonde.” He winked.
Emma chuckled. Then she went closer to him and sat down on the side of his bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She looked him straight in the eye, and then, gently, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. She saw him swallow hard, and the beeping of his heartbeat accelerated on the monitor. She smiled softly again. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”
She saw how he wet his lips before answering as if his mouth had been suddenly dry. “It was the right thing to do.” Was his answer, but his voice came out slightly choked.
Emma looked back, checking if any hospital employee was nearby, “I shouldn’t be here, and unfortunately my time is running out. But I wanted to see you... needed to see with my own eyes that you are ok... well, more or less.” She whispered, with her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact. The physical connection of their joined hands was already arousing too many contradictory emotions inside her.
“Aye. I know the feeling.” He replied, letting her know that he had been eager to establish contact with her throughout his stay in the hospital.
At those words, she stared at him again. “Get well soon.” She bent down and dropped a mild kiss at the corner of his lips. “We need you.”
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~·~·~·~
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Killian was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. This time there was no way he would fall asleep again. Every time he thought about what had just happened his beeping monitor sped up. He blushed. It had been just a chaste kiss, nothing compared to the hot and breathtaking one they had shared a few days before. But she had said it had been a one-time thing and he had promised himself not to indulge in those lustful thoughts anymore. Yet, this last kiss had seemed much more real, and meaningful... it had left him with a feeling of hope.
Hope and distress. Emma was such a strong and beautiful woman, a marvelous creature, as he liked to describe her in his mind, and a princess even. And what was he? A rebel, and a scoundrel. Or a rapscallion... whatever. Okay, maybe not anymore, but he had been in the past, for many years. He had been trying to redeem himself lately. But was he worth enough of her? That was the million dollar question.
He was still ruminating on it when the known brunette peeked out the curtains. “Hello. How are you today?” She greeted him with a bright smile, as usual.
“Better.” He hoped the monitor on his right wasn’t showing his state of mind.
She came closer. “Do you mind if I check your ribs? It's time to change the dressing.” After a short pause, she added, “I'm sorry, but we don't have the best equipment to assist our patients. We have to work with what we have available on this planet.” She said pointing to the bands that covered his chest.
Killian nodded, and Mary Margaret started to untie the bandages. She seemed concentrated on her task, probably she was trying to avoid causing him any pain. It was only when she started to apply an ointment on the bruises, that she spoke again. “You love her.” It was just a whisper, and Killian doubted if he had heard correctly. But then she added “Emma.”
It wasn’t a question, and he pondered what was the correct answer, or if she was expecting one. “I'd go to the end of the world for her… Or the multiverse.” He said eventually.
“And she for you, I take it?”
Killian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What’s the problem?” She looked at him surprised. Then took some clean gauzes and started to wrap them on him.
“She's bloody brilliant, an amazing woman. She fights for her son and always does what’s right.” Killian’s voice was so full of admiration.
“Is there something wrong with it?” Mary Margaret inquired.
Killian shook his head again. “She raised the bar very high. The fact is, I don't think I measure up.”
The woman folded the old bandages and took the ointment bottle, then she stood up, she was making an exit when she stopped short. “Since you came here I've been watching you.”
“I don't know if I should be flattered or scared.” The man tried to ease the tension of the moment.
“We don’t have many foreigners on this planet, but believe me, you're not one of the bad guys. You sacrificed yourself for the sake of a young boy. There's good in your heart.” She smiled at him softly. “I’m going to look for the doctor; I bet you’ll be leaving this room soon.”
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~·~·~·~
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The following day started the same as the previous ones. But during the first hours of the evening a man in a white coat came to visit Killian. He explained the medications and precautions to be taken to him, some movements that he should avoid for a while, and other tips for a speedy recovery. Then he handed over some papers for the patient to sign to be discharged. Finally some good news.
After a while redressing and packing up his few belongings in his satchel Killian went to the door. Walking hurt a bit but nothing he couldn’t bear.
Mary Margaret was already waiting for him, and a tall blonde guy was with her. “You must be Jones.” He said. When they shook hands, Killian learned his name was David Nolan, and he remembered Henry had mentioned him in his conversations. “I’m going to take you to our humble abode.”
Nolan's house was in fact modest. A loft with a large dining room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a small bathroom on one corner, all open, without doors, except for the bathroom. There was a raised bedroom opposite it, whose access was a metal stair.
Dinner was good, if a little awkward. Emma didn't interact much, and Killian wanted to ask if something was troubling her, but he preferred to wait for a better time, perhaps a less crowded one. Henry entertained them with what he had done throughout the day and kept repeating how glad he was that Killian was back with them.
But the man was still a bit cautious with those new people around him. He didn’t know them, especially the Nolan guy, who had been silent for most of the dinner, glancing sidelong at him as if he wanted to study him thoroughly before making a personal judgment. The feeling was mutual, Killian thought.
Just after dessert, David started to speak. “What will you need to restore your ship?” He asked.
“Uh… a new stabilizer, I think, and some parts of the propulsion engine for sure. But I’ll have to look closely at the damages to be sure there’s nothing else broken.”
The blond man nodded. “Not many ships come and go from here. But I hope we can find all the pieces you need.”
“Thank you, mate.”
“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hangar where your ship is. We’ll have a look at it.” He seemed sincere in his generosity.
“May I help?” Henry barged in.
A chorus of “No!” echoed the room.
“I appreciate the support, but it could be dangerous.” Killian explained.
“I hate being here. I feel trapped.” The boy complained.
Mary Margaret sighed. “This is a feeling that will vanish with time.”
The woman was no doubt trying to instill some optimism, but Killian didn't like the idea of staying in that place longer than necessary. “Well, then, let’s hope we could leave this planet before the feeling has entirely vanished.” He made a grin and passed his hand on his side.
“Time for resting.” The brunette stated although it sounded more like an order. “But before that, we should change those bandages. Emma, would you like to help me?”
“Me?” Emma, who had been silent and a bit on the sidelines all evening, seemed to re-emerge from wherever she’d gone.
“He won’t be able to do it by himself when you won’t live here anymore. It’s better if you learn how to help him.” Mary Margaret clarified.
Emma looked like she was going to object, but in the end, she asserted. “Sure.”
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If a certain nervousness had taken hold of Emma as she climbed to the upstairs room, it disappeared the instant Mary Margaret helped Killian get rid of his shirt. That wasn’t a thorax, it was a nautical chart. Most of it was covered by gauze, but she could still spot many marks and scars.
There was a tattoo, two of them to be exact, but Emma saw just one at first. It was on his right forearm; it was a big red heart with a dagger running through and the name “Milah” across it. Emma made a mental note to ask him later who she was.
Mary Margaret showed her how to unfasten the bandages, and then she ordered her to stand behind him, to help better in removing them all.
On his back, Emma saw the second tattoo, on his right shoulder. It was an old nautical instrument she had read about in a book when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember the exact name. The drawing was beautifully detailed, even if it had faded, it was probably older than the other one, she thought.
And when all the gauze was out of the way, she saw them: tiny, blurred, old scars that studded most of his back. Emma wondered what kind of life he had to endure when he was very young.
Mary Margaret asked her to help with the ointment. She had already opened the bottle and was showing the blonde woman how much cream to use. But Emma wasn't listening, standing now in front of the man, her attention was caught by the glorious chest hair that was covering most of his torso.
Okay, there was also a big, horrible bruise on his right ribs, but Mary Margaret was saying that it seemed on the way to a fast recovery, if the yellow and purple veining was some indication.
Emma was ogling and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. The amount of hair decreased in the lower part of his chest, leaving a black trail that disappeared under the hem of his pants.
"See something you like?" Emma was abruptly taken back to reality by a smug Killian that was smirking at her while arching an eyebrow. She blushed. She was caught red-handed, but she couldn’t let him win. She took advantage of the fact that Mary Margaret was looking for something in a nearby drawer, to get closer to him. She looked at him lasciviously from under her lashes. “Maybe?” She purred.
Now it was his time to blush, he looked intently at his feet, but she found the bright red that appeared on his ears extremely endearing. Point for Emma.
Mary Margaret taught the other woman how to fix the bandages, and Emma had to use some tiny hooks to hold them together. She did not miss the opportunity to casually slide her fingers over a part of his chest hair that came out of the bandages.
“Bloody Hell!” Killian muttered.
Emma retreated her hand immediately. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Worries that she had done something wrong clouded her gaze.
“Apologies.” Killian was scratching behind his ear, in evident embarrassment. “While I do enjoy two lovely ladies attending to my needs, I'm not used to someone taking care of me…” He smiled and brought his mouth close to Emma’s ear: “I’m usually the one who devotes full attention to a woman’s needs.” He whispered, but clearly not as quietly as he would have liked, because Mary Margaret's answer - “Well, you will have to put that off for a while” - made him blush again like a schoolboy scolded by his teacher.
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~·~·~·~
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Suddenly it was bedtime. Everyone was busy making preparations and taking shifts for the bathroom to change for the night. Killian was upstairs, staring at the bed he knew he had to share with Emma, who was arranging a pillow on the nearby sofa. He passed a hand through his hair and then scratched a spot behind his right ear. “I'll crash on that couch.” He stated as if it was the most logical conclusion to a battle he was fighting inside.
“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It's barely long enough for Henry. Plus, you’re still recovering, you absolutely need to rest.”
He didn't seem very convinced. “Emma, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”
“And why is that?” Was her exasperated reply, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do? Seduce me with a couple of broken ribs and a ten-year-old boy sleeping next to us?”
He lifted his arms and surrendered. “Fair point.” He conceded.
In no time they were all ready for the night and Henry was snoring softly on the sofa. Killian was supine, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events of the day. In any case, sleep had no intention of coming, but he tried not to move. He didn’t want to wake up his roommates. Emma was lying close with her back to him and he didn’t know if she was already in the arms of Morpheus.
He turned his head to observe how her upper body moved with the rhythm of her breathing, blond curls covering her shoulders. Killian had to repress the urge to touch them. And as if responding to his call, she stirred and turned to face him.
Her eyes opened lazily. “Still awake?” She murmured.
“I have the feeling that I’ve slept enough for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “But you can’t rest either, I see.”
She didn’t answer.
Perhaps it was the closeness, perhaps it was the fact that they had spent the last few days apart. Killian didn't know how he found the courage, but he lifted his left arm as an invitation. “Come here,” he said.
She seemed to ponder the situation, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He decided not to think about all the possible implications of that sentence. He was falling in love with her, he was aware of it. Probably the simple doubt that she might not reciprocate was already hurting him, but he knew that at that moment she was referring only to his physical bruises. “You won’t.”
She slipped under the sheets towards him, resting her head gently on his left shoulder and placing a hand on his chest, avoiding the bruised part. Not many minutes passed before her lids grew heavy and she dozed off to the rhythm of his heartbeats. Killian placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
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