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planetsam · 5 years

Note

Could you write something involving Max healing Alex, maybe Alex goes on a solo mission to uncover yet another location where more aliens are being held captives. This is after M/M get together. Love your writing a ton!

He finds him easily.

Too easily.

This has trap written all over it. It takes every scrap of training and determination to stay focused when Michael is in the corner of a cell. What they’ve done to him—Alex knows. He almost wishes he didn’t. The others around him are sitting in their chairs or on their beds. Michael had trashed his room. It’s probably only the fear of the glass and what will happen if it breaks that keeps him from going for that. Instead he’s run out of things to throw and is curled in the corner of the cell, his shoulders shaking and his fingers clenched around the legs of his pants. Alex moves forward. He sees Michael stiffen and when he looks up, there’s an anger in his eyes that steal’s Alex’s breath.

Then he sees it’s him.

Relief floods Michael’s features and Alex finds his own feelings of low self worth completely at odds with the fact that he’s put that look on Michael’s face. The anger gives way to a bright grin and it feels like they’re in a movie or something. Able to see each other but nothing else. He’d stay there, he realizes. Forever just able to see but not touch. So not so different from how things are on the outside. Alex shakes his head in an effort to clear it and hurries over to the door. The emp sends a pulse that disables the biomechanics and Alex has already taken care of the failsafe. Michael hurries out the door and stops just short of touching him.

“I knew you’d be here,” he says.

“Good,” Alex says.

“Let’s go guys!” Michael calls to the others. Alex hesitates only a moment. He thinks of his brother whose around here somewhere. All the others. Is this a betrayal? “Alex?”

“Tell—ask them not to hurt anyone,” he says to Michael, “they deserve it but—“ he looks at him helplessly. Michael stares at him silently and the disappointment sends a wave of nausea up his throat, “please?”

“You get to lightly rough them up but everyone who doesn’t try to kill you better have a pulse at the end of this!” Michael says.

He orders.

And they look unhappy but they listen.

Alex has always known Michael was special. But this is on another level. Alex is impressed. He knows soldiers and leaders and Michael wears both easily. Naturally. For someone like him it would be jealousy inducing if it was anyone else. He clasps Michael’s shoulder in thanks. The wave of nausea isn’t exactly going away.

“Max is outside,” he says.

“Alien Jesus, here for the save,” Michael drawls. He looks confused at Alex’s hand not leaving his shoulder. Alex doesn’t blame him, it’s the longest they’ve touched in months and not because of the cell. “Alex?” Michael grips his hand, preventing him from turning away, “Alex what’s—“ he stops. Stupid, brilliant Michael sees. When he looks up there’s only horror on his face, “no. No,” the denial bubbles from his lips as the nausea finally wins on Alex’s end, “Alex!”

Getting shot fucking hurts.

Michael holds him, soft and warm and solid as he spews blood and bile onto the grate. He’s not sure how much longer he can stand for. He guesstimated 15 minutes but the alarm on his watch has already gone off. He swipes his hand over his mouth and goes to push himself back. Getting to Michael was most of it but he can hear the alarms in his head. They have to get out. When he goes to leave, Michael’s grip tightens and when Alex steps back, theres a wall behind him. But there isn’t and he tries to glare at Michael.

“Get out of here,” he says.

“You said Max was here?” He checks, “good,” he looks at Alex, “this isn’t gonna feel great.”

Alex is about to as what but the wall he’s against shifts and winds around and presses against his wound. A groan escapes him but the invisible band is pulling him forward. Michael slings his arm over his shoulder. It’s not as nauseating as the last time he was yanked out. He’s not upside down and there’s less jostling. But fuck if Alex doesn’t miss the morphine. He looks around and tries to keep alert but it’s increasingly difficult. And anyway Michael is in charge and for once Alex is ok with that. Michael shifts his grip on him and his heat almost makes the shift from a controlled climate to the sun unnoticeable. Except he’s got to stop to be sick again. He wasn’t sure if his stomach was damaged but he’s got a feeling it is. Michael barely lets him finish before he’s pulling him into the car, putting Alex against his chest.

“Go!” He orders and Max floors it, “wait!”

“Jesus Michael!”

“Switch with me, switch—“ Max takes one look at him.

“No. Put pressure on it. Alex you good?”

“Keep driving,” he says and the attempt he makes at authority comes out far more breathless than he wants it to. Maybe he can close his eyes for just a minute. Michael’s warm and soft and this is not the worst way he can think of to die. Except there’s a bump and the pain of the impact shocks him, even with Michael’s arms and Michael’s power bracing him, “Fuck,” he breathes.

“Pull over!” Michael bellows at Max.

“He can hold on,” Max says, Michael glares, “do not stop this car Michael! If they catch us we’re all as good as dead.”

“I don’t give a shit! He’s hurt!” He doesn’t stop the car and Alex is glad he knows to prioritize the lives of two over one, “Alex you gotta stay with me,” he says, “you gotta hold on,” his hands grab Alex’s, crossing them over his chest so he can hold him and hold his hands, “come on, you went through all this trouble—how are you gonna guilt me with it if you die?”

Alex snorts at the half joke and Michael desperately laugh sobs in response. Alex focuses everything on breathing. He doesn’t want to do this. He knows if he dies after Michael helps it will haunt him and he’s been enough of a ghost to Michael over the years. But he trusts Michael to do everything to protect him. Just like he loves him. And in both cases, Alex knows it’s not enough. But he can try.

“You need to stop my stomach leaking,” he tells Michael. He tries to keep his voice low but Max hears. The car stops so violently that his vision doesn’t clear from the haze. The next thing he’s away of Max is scrambling into the back seat, “No, no you—“

“You’re driving when I’m done,” Max says firmly, shoving up his shirt. Michael holds it up with his fingers, unwilling to let go of Alex’s hands. Max looks at him, “can I?”

Michael glares and Alex almost laughs. It’s Michael’s rule, that Max has to get consent. He might change his mind after this. Alex nods and Max presses his hand to his flesh. It’s a horrific feeling, like being shot in reverse. Michael holds him and rests his head on his shoulder so he can’t twist. After a moment, Max shakes his head and looks at Michael.

“You gotta get the bullet out.”

“Sorry about this,” Michael says, adjusting his grip.

“Try to take it out on the same path,” Max advises.

Now it feels like being shot. But the two aliens hold him steady as he tries to buck away from the pain. He can’t avoid it though, he can’t go into shock and die with Michael’s power inside him. He focuses instead on that. On Michael and how much he’s missed having him this close. Him this close might be the only thing Alex has ever truly wanted. Under less agonizing circumstances but for his last few minutes on earth, he’ll take what he can get. The bullet comes out and Michael folds over him, exhausted. They detoxed him and Alex has no idea how he used as much power as he did. Max scrambles forward and pushes his power through Alex so fast that Alex barely has time to scream before it’s over.

He sucks in air, letting himself have just a single selfish moment still banded in Michael’s arms. He can pretend they fell asleep in the car. But the tang of his own blood and sick is a definite dream killer, even before he sees Max slumped over his legs. Also a dream killer. He can feel everything where it’s supposed to be and untangles himself from Michael, fighting the urge to return to his arms when he weakly tries to pull him back. He grabs the bullet though up front isn’t much of a distance. Scrambling into the drivers seat he starts the car and thanks God that Liz’s magical sex powers have kept Max from killing the battery.

“Hold on,” he says, putting the seat forward and taking off.

They make it out with everyone else loaded into school buses driven by their friends. It’s a miracle even if no one has any idea what to do with each other. Max and Michal drink a lot of acetone and Maria opens the Pony and they all stand there basking in a hard earned victory. All except him. He gets everyone there safe but going in isn’t something he seems to be able to do. He saved them but his dad is why they’re there. And if he goes in, he has to watch other things he isn’t sure he can see. He lingers and just when he’s about to ‘borrow’ Max’s car, Michael hops in.

“What are you doing?” Alex asks.

“I don’t want to be there without you,” Michael says. Alex stares, “is now a good time?” He asks.

“Is it for you?” Alex demands.

“Yeah,” Michael says, something undefinable in his eyes, something hungry, “now is good.”

A million questions tumble behind Alex’s teeth.

But then Max comes out to get his car. Michael does the child locks with his power. If Michael can keep him on this earth with a word, three are more than enough for him to steal a car and start a conversation. Even around Max’s muffled outrage he feels him step back. Feels Max brush his thoughts. There’s affection and warmth and a stern warning that he’s very certain is for him.

Take care of him this time.

The back of his head goes static as Max steps back.

Alex hits the gas pedal.

#michael guerin #alex manes #michael x alex #roswell new mexico spoilers #roswell nm spoilers #malex #prompts #roswell new mexico #roswell nm fanfic #max evans #ooo we found one of my favorite tropes #h&c #malex fic

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emmaspirate · 8 years

Text

The Birds

A/N: Two months later and I’m back. Thank you to the two ladies who looked this over for me - Mona (@o-u-a-timer) and Lena (@lenfaz), I owe you my life. We’re picking up now folks - hope you enjoy.

Summary: Meet Emma Swan: mother, detective, and angel. She’s just trying to get through her eternal afterlife in one piece. Naturally the universe has other plans for her. When a murder occurs in the divine community, she must enlist the help of angels and demons alike to help crack the case. Enter Killian Jones, a mysterious demon who has every intention of making Emma’s life a living hell. Angel/Demon AU. This has been done before and I’m sure other attempts are better than mine, but I thought I’d give it a shot. There is a depiction of a crime scene at the bottom so read at your own risk!

A03

Chapter I/Chapter II/Chapter III/Chapter IV/Chapter V

Chapter V: All the Things Lost

“Death ends a life, not a relationship.” - Mitch Albom

Emma’s eyes snapped open at 8:15 on the dot. She’d somehow managed to fall back into unconsciousness a bit past five. She could hear Henry rummaging about in the kitchen. He normally took care of breakfast in the morning, given that she was almost always out late catching perps.

She’d taken off her shoes and jacket when she’d woken up from her dream, so she threw on a hoodie over her t-shirt and ambled outside. Emma tried to remember her nightmare, but felt as though she was grasping at straws. Everything had been so crystal clear before, and now it was jarringly murky. There was something else too, something else she was forgetting…

“Hello, Love,” he said, answering her question.

Her eyes took in his sprawling form on her couch. He’d ditched all the leather, and was wearing a black Henley and skinny jeans. He looked incredibly amused as his kohl-rimmed eyes darted over her body. She was slightly alarmed she hadn’t felt his presence sooner, was it possible to grow used to the feeling of a demon? She had been spending an inordinate amount of time with them…

“Mom, your cocoa is done.”

She spun around, her face fixed in horror, and was greeted by her son extending a mug towards her. He was holding her favorite cup, Henry had made it for her when he was in third grade. It said “World’s Best Mom” on it, and he’d drawn some horrible picture of the two of them on the other side. She’d cried when she’d gotten it. It had felt like a lie at the time.

It felt like a lie now, as he said “What?” like nothing was wrong.

In a flash, Emma was in front of Hook, hand wrapping around his neck as she hauled him to his feet. “What are you doing here?” she growled.

“Mom, what the hell?” Henry sputtered from behind her.

Hook was smiling. “I quite like you like this, very commanding.” When she tightened her grip on his throat he said, “We have to go to Lily Page’s residence.”

“I know that, but what are you doing here?” she spat.

“Her Majesty,” and where most demons said the name with reverence, Hook said it like it was an insult. “Gave me your address so that we could go on our merry way. I also brought your car for you.”

“Mom, would you stop? Killian is cool.”

Maybe it was the shock of hearing her son refer to homicidal, sociopathic, demon Hook as “Killian”, a man she wasn’t sure existed, but she let him go. There was a beat as she assessed Henry, tried to see if he was serious, and then “Killian?”

Her son looked incredibly put out with her. “That’s his name,” he shot back.

“Watch it,” she replied reflexively. Emma turned to Hook, “You’re letting him call you Killian?” She didn’t manage to keep the surprise from leaking into her voice.

Hook looked incredibly sheepish as he scratched at his ear. “Like the boy said, it is my name,” he muttered uncomfortably.

“I didn’t know you had such a soft side,” Emma replied, smiling in spite of herself.

“I don’t,” he insisted.

“Whatever you say, Hook,” she teased. She figured that while her son may be able to get away with using his given name, he’d have no qualms about ripping her apart should it ever pass her lips.

“Did you know Captain Hook is based on Killian?” Henry asked, seemingly springing back to life now that the situation had diffused a bit.

Once again, Hook looked incredibly uncomfortable. “Mr. Barrie and I were associates,” he explained. “Seemed a few bits of my personality, as well as,” he held up his hook. “This, inspired him.”

Emma stared at him in disbelief. “You were friends with J.M. Barrie?”

Hook smirked at her surprise, seemingly back in his element. “The man was a child in an adult’s body, anyone with that affliction tends to enjoy the company of a less savory crowd. He was an easy target.” Hook shrugged. Then, he sauntered a bit closer to Emma and said, “You’ll find, Swan, that I’ve made many friends over my long, long lifetime. Some of the people I get into bed with may surprise you.”

Emma scoffed and lightly pushed him backwards. “I have no interest in your bed or whose in it.” Since she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the fact that Henry was in the presence of a very dangerous demon, she quickly added, “We should go.”

Hook looked her up and down with a raised brow. “You sure you don’t want to change, Love?” he asked with a laugh in his voice.

Emma paused for a brief moment, remembering her dirty jeans, ratty sweatshirt, and greasy hair. He was right, she probably should change, but hell would have to freeze over before she let him have this one. Reaching behind him, she grabbed her red leather jacket off the peg next to the door. “Nope,” she said and shrugged.

To her surprise, Hook just smiled. “If the lady insists. It was nice to meet you, lad,” he called to Henry, giving her son a little two-finger salute.

“You too, Killian. I’ll let you know how it goes with Violet.”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up so fast she was worried they’d get lost in her hairline. “What?” She all but shouted as she turned around between the two of them. “You told him about Violet?”

Hook laughed. “I was just giving the lad some advice about women.”

Emma glared at him so hard she was certain he’d spontaneously combust at any moment. Then, without warning, she began to shove him towards her front door while she called out “Don’t you ever take this idiot’s advice about anything! Especially women, my god!”

From behind her, she heard Henry sigh.

From in front of her, she heard Hook laugh.

Emma threw her hair into a ponytail at the first stoplight they came to. It slowly began to dawn on her, much to her horror, that she hadn’t showered in multiple days. She shifted subtly away from Hook, hoping she wasn’t giving off an odor.

“Sleep well, Angel?” Hook asked, and the light tone of his voice suggested he knew exactly what she was doing.

“Mhm,” Emma murmured as she stepped on the gas.

Hook was all but laughing now. “Your son revealed some interesting information about your sleeping habits.”

Emma froze just long enough for him to notice. “Did he?”

Hook kept his gaze fixed forward, as did Emma, but she could feel the smugness radiating off of him. “He did. He said you snore.”

Emma felt a pulse of rage fly through her veins, and her Bug jumped forward as her foot pushed down further on the pedal. “I do not! You know that’s not true; Angels and Demons don’t snore! Sleep puts in a nearly comatose state,” she cried, and the indignation in her voice made her cringe.

“And yet, in your comatose state, you still somehow manage to snore. Defying the odds left and right, Swan,” Hook replied.

Lily’s was only a few miles away, she lived in nearby Roxbury, but Emma felt as though this car ride would never end. She didn’t dignify his ludicrous proposition with a response, although she’d certainly have a few choice words for Henry when she got home. Although, his words did bring another question to her mind, and so she asked, “Do Demons ever dream?”

Hook turned his head to look at her, and a quick glance at his face showed that all traces of joking had left his expression. Sure enough, his voice was deadly serious as he said, “No. Divine beings don’t dream, surely you know that.”

Emma nodded as she refused to meet his gaze. “I know that that’s the party line, but I’m wondering if you, or anyone you know of, has ever… dreamed… or hallucinated… or something…”

“Have you?” Killian asked, and there was something else buried deep in his voice; it sounded almost accusatory.

Naturally, Emma’s defenses flared up. “Never mind,” she hissed, and just as he was about to say something, her gaslight saved her. “I need to fill up,” she bit and abruptly turned into an Exxon station. Truth be told, the turn may have been a little too abrupt because Hook knocked his head into the passenger window, but she was springing out of the car before he could say anything. Emma watched him clamber out and shoot her a disbelieving look before he muttered something about making a “phone call.” She paid him no mind as she made her way to the back of her Bug.

The angel could not make her hand stop shaking as she wrestled with the fuel cap on her car. When she’d asked him if demons dreamed, she’d been afraid he’d say yes. That whatever the hell she’d experienced last night meant that she was traveling down a dark path; that she was one step closer to becoming what she feared the most.

Somehow this was much worse.

Demons didn’t dream, of that Hook had seemed sure. She trusted that, if there was any exception to that rule, he’d have found it by now. So, what did that mean exactly? What did it say about her that she was apparently the first divine creature in at least six hundred years to have this happen to them?

What the hell was going on?

She heard it before her mind processed what it was. Something was whizzing up behind her much too quickly for her to do anything, even with her heightened reflexes. Emma’s body reacted differently than it had at Regina’s, or when she’d first met Hook at his hotel. She shifted instantly into an ethereal state, as if her brain had decided that there was no benefit to keeping in control. It was fight or flight, and in a split second she’d picked fight.

She’d picked a second too late.

Maybe if she hadn’t been so distracted, she’d have noticed something was amiss before. Unfortunately, all she could do was watch the glistening silver arrow as it hurtled towards her. She knew, given the fact that it was moving at a speed too fast for a human weapon, that it was made of mortifero. She had no chance. This was it. Emma was going to die.

He came out of nowhere, barreling into her like a freight train. She was so caught off guard she went tumbling to the ground without resistance. Her muscles locked and she stopped breathing, but she didn’t push him off when he told her to keep still. Hook stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, keeping her pinned beneath him, as his eyes darted around.

Every instinct she had was telling her to kill him and get the hell out of there, but she managed to keep those urges at bay. She knew he was trying to protect her, and murdering him probably wouldn’t do any good. Still, it was hard to keep herself in check when the adrenaline was pulsing through her veins.

They stayed like that for a bit longer, until Hook decided that whatever, or whoever, had attacked them was gone. He then seemed to remember that he was literally on top of her and shifted his weight so that it was on his arms rather than on her. He did not, however, make any attempt to move out of her personal space.

“Are you okay?” Hook asked, and Emma was confused at the genuine sincerity in his tone.

She found that her mouth was incredibly dry. “I’m fine,” she croaked, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “Could you help me up?”

Hook nodded and leapt to his feet, pulling her up gently as he went. They both instantly realized what a bad idea that’d been when her knees gave out and he’d had to catch her. He was very careful to make sure his hook didn’t get too close to her exposed skin, instead resting it against the leather of her jacket. “Here,” he muttered as he dragged her over to the passenger side. He then proceeded to open the door with so much unnecessary force that Emma was briefly sure he’d rip it off. “Sit,” he commanded as he all but dropped her onto the seat.

“Do you know who that was?” Emma asked as she adjusted herself.

Hook had his body positioned so that he was shielding her side of the car. His eyes continued to scan the street, and Emma was loathe to admit that she did feel marginally safer with him here. “No idea. They took off on a bike after they shot at you.” His gaze flickered to her and his brow furrowed in concern. His hand moved up to the left side of her head, as though he were going to touch her, but she shied away instinctively. A brief flash of pain crossed his features, but it was gone before Emma could regret her actions. He gestured to his own ear. “They appear to have nicked you, Love.”

Emma’s hand shot up to where her hairline met the skin just above her ear, and sure enough it came away covered in sticky gold. She’d never quite gotten used to the fact that angel blood was a golden color. It did give her a nice glow all year round, but it always had been a little off-putting. “Ow,” she muttered belatedly.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t your chest,” Hook smirked. “I’ll go get something to absorb the blood from the attendant.”

Emma waved a hand at him to dismiss the idea. She quickly reached around into the backseat and pulled out a fistful of brown napkins from Chipotle.

“Charming,” Hook sneered as she dabbed at her head.

She winced slightly as she pressed, the cut stung like a bitch, but he was right, it hadn’t been fatal. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Hook was visibly startled. “What?”

Emma scoffed and removed the napkins from her cut for a brief moment so she could glare at him properly. “You saved my life. I’d have been shish kabobed if you hadn’t been here. So, thank you,” Emma replied.

The demon was visibly uncomfortable at her gratitude, shifting from foot to foot. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t want you getting shish kabobed, as you so eloquently put it. Besides, I told your brother I’d take care of you, so,” he trailed off.

“So, I think one of these days you’re going to have to admit that you don’t hate me as much as you pretend to,” Emma goaded.

Hook smirked at her playfully, clearly grateful the mood had shifted into a joking one. “Me? Not hating an Angel? It’ll be a cold day in hell.”

Emma laughed and threw her bloody napkin into the backseat, enjoying the grimace that overtook Hook’s face. She’d get it later. Probably. “We should go,” she said as she started to get up from the seat.

“I’m driving,” Hook shot as he all but shoved her back down. Without waiting for her reply, he hurried over to the driver’s side and began to buckle himself in.

Emma could only gape at him as he turned the key in the ignition. “You cannot drive my car! I’m fine! The cut is basically patched up, accelerated healing works like a gem,” she protested.

“I’m not worried about your cut, I’m worried about you calming yourself down. We need you out of your ethereal state before we get to Lily’s, otherwise the humans will think I’m talking to myself.”

Emma realized that he was right. Didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her lower lip out. “Driving calms me down,” she grumbled.

Hook laughed as he pulled out of the station and onto the road. “I’m sure it does.” He paused for a moment, smile falling off his face, before he said, “I haven’t met any divine beings who’ve had dreams. Doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

Emma didn’t say anything, just fixed her eyes forward and nodded.

“Not a cross I’d be willing to bear,” Hook said so quietly she thought she’d heard him wrong.

Emma glanced at him. “Pardon?”

“The dreaming thing. I wouldn’t want it. When I sleep, although it’s infrequent at this point, it’s the only break I get from my own head.” Hook swallowed and kept his eyes on the road as though his life depended on it. “There’s nothing in this world I’d want to dream about.”

“What about good dreams? Happy dreams?” Emma asked, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. She didn’t want to care about him, but the idea that everything he’d ever had could be so tainted, every memory, every hope, every love, was making her chest ache. The angel in her was overly sympathetic to the plight of other creatures, which was the clear explanation for why his pain was hers.

Clearly.

Hook smiled and she wanted to cry. “I don’t have those.”

They only made it half a mile down the road before they realized Emma hadn’t actually filled the tank at the station, but other than that they got to Lily’s without any more hindrances. Her friend’s place was appropriately seedy, but nothing Emma wasn’t used to given the residences she used to occupy.

“Lily lives,” Emma paused for a moment before she corrected herself. “Lived in apartment 3A.”

Emma felt Hook’s eyes on her, but she didn’t move her gaze off of the building’s front door. “You alright, Swan?” he asked.

There it was again, that genuine concern he kept showing that she just couldn’t seem to ignore. She almost wished he’d go back to being an ass. “Fine. Let’s go see the super,” Emma muttered as she charged forward. Hook, to his credit, followed behind her without comment. She could have sworn she felt his fingers ghost the small of her back, but the sensation was gone before she could check.

They found the super’s door with relative ease, and Emma didn’t waste anytime with pleasantries. “Boston PD,” she yelled as she pounded on the door.

Emma heard rustling around inside before the door was thrown open and a grubby little man in a stained undershirt and checked boxers was in front of them. “What?” he spat.

The smell that wafted through the air must have hit Emma and Hook at the same time, because as soon as she wrinkled her nose he groaned, “Jesus, mate.” Emma turned to find his face contorted in disgust. “Do you have an entire marijuana dispensary in there, perhaps a dead body or two?”

“Hook,” Emma scoffed, although the comment did make her smile.

Hook gave her a disbelieving look, like he could not understand why he was being chastised given the smell that was coming from this man’s room. “How ironic is it that we’re conducting a murder investigation, and this man is clearly hoarding dead bodies in his room. I mean there is no other explanation.”

Emma expected the super to fire back in some way, but when she turned back to him she realized he was too busy leering at her to have any idea what they were saying. The angel rolled her eyes. “We have a warrant to search the apartment of Lilith Page,” Emma droned as she pulled out the document.

“I’ll help you in any way I can, sweetheart,” he purred and Emma suppressed her gag reflex.

Hook didn’t suppress any of his reflexes as he lunged forward so quickly, Emma had to place a hand out to stop him. “Did you miss the part where I mentioned that we were conducting a murder investigation? Perhaps you’d like to be the next victim?” Hook growled.

Emma watched the man sputter like a fish on land, and while she knew she should say something, she decided to let herself enjoy the moment. She may have been required to keep her composure, given that she was representing the police force, but who was really being hurt besides the little perv in front of her if she let Hook fly off the handle. “Can you let us into Lily’s residence, or am I going to have to go in myself?”

The super didn’t say anything, he simply shoved past the two of them and refused to make eye contact.

The demon swept his hook in the human’s direction. “After you, Swan.”

Emma gave him a tight-lipped smile and followed the man up the stairwell. “What can you tell me about Lily?” she asked.

The super looked over his shoulder as he huffed up the stairs. He seemed slightly shaken, but largely unaffected by Hook’s threat. That was to be expected; the more immoral a human was, the less fazed they were when it came to divine encounters. When you had nothing to lose, you were harder to shake. “Can’t tell you much. Lily kept to herself, she was an odd girl,” he muttered as he opened the door to the third floor.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked as she followed him down a grimy hallway. There was trash littering the ground and somewhere in the distance, she heard a baby crying. Or at least she thought she heard a baby crying. This place was bringing back bad memories of some of her former houses.

The super ignored her question. “You said this was a murder investigation.”

Emma shot a dirty look at Hook over her shoulder. “I can’t confirm or deny anything of the sort, nor have I.”

The human gave her a smug, knowing grin. “Yeah, well, your partner did. Look, I just need to know if I can rent her apartment out to someone new.”

“Well considering the fact that she’s dead, yeah I’d say you can,” Hook replied in his disarmingly uninterested tone.

If Emma’s look had merely been dirty before, this one was downright lethal. If the demon wasn’t already dead she was certain he would be now. “We cannot comment on an ongoing investigation at this time,” Emma spat, to which Hook gave a noncommittal shrug.

“That’s a relief,” the superintendent sighed as he reached what Emma assumed to be Lily’s door. “Can’t say anyone’s going to miss her.”

Emma’s gaze flicked from Hook to the man fiddling with the keys to the apartment. “What do you mean?” Emma repeated, and if the human could hear the hostility that now laced her question he showed no sign.

He shoved the key into the door. “Lily was a weird girl, dangerous too. The kind you just wanted to instinctively avoid. Trouble seemed to follow her wherever she went. The girl had no family, no friends, it’s not really a surprise what happened to her. Good riddance if you ask me.”

Emma wasn’t really sure what happened after that. One minute the super was pushing the door open, the next minute he was pinned against the wall with Emma’s hand around his throat. She pulled her other hand back, readying herself to deck him across the face. “She was my friend,” she roared.

“Swan, don’t,” Hook yelled and she felt his hand wrap lightly around her shoulder. His voice was enough to make her stop for a moment as he said, “This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me,” Emma growled as she kept her attention on the gasping man in front of her. She could feel the darkness well up inside her, temporarily drowning out the light.

Hook, who could also sense the varying degrees of light and dark someone possessed in their souls, must have felt it too. “Don’t let it win. Lily’s gone, there’s no sense in hurting this man.”

Emma considered his words carefully. It probably wouldn’t hurt her too much if she did take physical action against this human, but as she felt the darkness working its way through her veins, making her fingers tingle, she reassessed. She worked so hard to maintain her humanity, to be as good as possible, that she wasn’t about to let a passing comment break her.

She slowly released his neck, loosening her fingers one by one, until he fell to the floor. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding him off the ground, her divine strength having kicked into gear in her rage. Emma realized she was lucky she hadn’t killed him accidentally. “Go,” she spat.

The super scrambled to his feet, but Hook quickly grabbed him by the shirt. As the demon stared into the human’s eyes, the man’s expression went from fearful to blank. “Speak of this to no one,” Hook said, voice sounding like honey as he bent the human’s free will. His tone took on a hint of malice as he added, “And never speak badly of Lily Page again.”

Emma watched as the super stumbled down the hallway after Hook released him, glad to be rid of the man’s presence. “Thanks for that,” Emma whispered.

Hook looked visibly uncomfortable at her gratitude, scratching nervously behind his ear. Naturally, he resorted to what Emma was quickly realizing was his number one deflection tactic. “There are other ways to show your gratitude,” he purred, cadence sounding not unlike what he’d used to influence the super.

Emma rolled her eyes and quickly shot back, “Only in my nightmares.”

Hook’s expression darkened as he gave her a once over. “Well from what you’ve told me, those aren’t all that uncommon for you, are they, Swan?”

She didn’t answer, just lifted her chin and stared right back at him. She knew he was trying to get under her skin, but the thing was, she didn’t regret opening up to him about her dreams. His words to her in the car earlier had been the only thing that’d made her feel better about the situation. He may have been a dick, but he was on her side.

For now, she reminded herself.

Letting out a huff, she glided past him and entered Lily’s residence. She heard Hook’s footsteps come in behind her, but she was too busy taking in the cramped living room to notice. It was sparsely decorated, an old, plaid couch that looked like it’d been found in a dump was in the center of the room, and a few lawn chairs surrounded it. Lily had also placed a piece of wood on top of two cinderblocks to create something resembling a coffee table. There was a kitchenette off to the side of the room, but judging by its current state it had hardly ever been used.

That was it.

There were no pictures of family or friends, no children’s artwork on the fridge, not even a piece of junk mail. To anyone else, it would feel as though no one had ever lived here. It was just an abandoned room in a shitty neighborhood in Boston.

Emma Swan wasn’t just anyone.

Emma noticed the cup of coffee, now cold, sitting in the sink. She saw that one side of the old plaid couch was more sunken in then the other. She paid attention to the book on the makeshift table; The Catcher in the Rye, which was clearly well-loved given the way the spine bent.

These were the signs you left when you were nobody. The little things that said “I was here”, even when no one was looking for them. Emma knew what signs of life, but not of living, looked like. Emma had been nobody before she’d had somebody, before she’d had Henry, and David, and Mary Margaret. Before she’d found her family.

Something Lily had never had the opportunity to do.

So when Hook said, “Don’t touch anything you might get tetanus,” Emma hadn’t laughed. She hadn’t said anything. “You alright, Swan?” he’d asked shortly thereafter.

“I’m fine. Absolutely fine,” she’d said back a little too quickly and a little too aggressively.

She watched as the demon rocked back and forth on his heels, floorboards creaking in protest. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked and she had to laugh at how displeased he sounded at the idea of that.

Emma shook her head. “Really, I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve been here before. There’s no one to call and tell that she’s dead. We just turned her body over to the morgue and they’ll dispose of it and that’ll be it. There’s no one to cry, or mourn, or plan a funeral. There’s no one to care, and I feel like I have to do it and I didn’t even know her and,” Emma swallowed and willed herself to continue. There was something that felt safe about opening up to Hook. He didn’t know her, and he wasn’t in a place where he could judge her, so there was no harm in telling him this. It’s not like anyone would believe him anyways. “And that could’ve been me.”

Hook nodded, and she was surprised he actually seemed to be pondering her words. “It wasn’t you though,” he finally replied.

Emma shook her head, he wasn’t getting it. “But it could’ve been. Before I had my kid, before I had my brother, this was me.”

“Except that it wasn’t.” Hook cut in. “This wasn’t you, this isn’t you. I don’t pretend to know anything about your past, Swan, but I do know enough about you now to say that you could never have been this. You heard the way the human described her.”

Emma stiffened and shot back, “He didn’t know her.”

Hook stood his ground and tilted his head in a seemingly sympathetic way . “Maybe so, but that didn’t mean what he was saying was untrue. She was a demon, Swan. You don’t become one of those unless you have darkness inside of you.” He stepped closer to her, his voice dropping to a whisper so quiet she wouldn’t have heard him if not for her heightened senses. “Unless you’re a bad person.”

Emma mirrored his actions, stepping closer and whispering, “I don’t buy that. We all have darkness inside of us. You saw mine ten minutes ago when I almost killed that guy.”

Hook continued to close the space between them. “Aye, but you didn’t. You stopped yourself. Lily was bad and you are good.” He said the word like it was an insult. “It’s why you could never be what she was. People will always care for you, you will always be loved. That’s the difference between you and Lily. That’s the difference between you and,” he stopped himself before he finished the sentence, mouth clamping shut like he was afraid of what was going to come out.

Emma stepped up so that their chests were touching. The proximity made her instinctively uncomfortable, but she didn’t shy away. “Difference between me and who?”

Hook stared at her for a minute, studied her silently before he stepped back and said, “The difference between me and you.”

Emma felt the breath rush out of her lungs as it slowly dawned on her that maybe she wasn’t the only one in the room who could sympathize with Lily Page. She might not have been the only one who felt alone. “Everyone can be loved,” she said quietly, deflecting back to his earlier statement.

Hook gave her a twisted smile. “But not everyone deserves it.”

Emma flinched and clamped her mouth shut. They weren’t talking about Lily anymore, and they both knew it. The angel stood in stunned silence as Hook looked away and moved into the next room. She truly had no idea what to say to him, how she could show him he was wrong. Words had always failed her, and right now she’d give anything she had for that not to be the case.

Luckily, she was saved by Hook’s voice calling her into the next room. There was an urgency in his tone that sent her heart plummeting towards her feet. That, and the fact that he’d called out “Emma,” when she was pretty damn sure he hadn’t used her first name since they’d met, made her regret getting out of bed this morning.

The first thing she noticed when she entered the room was that it was empty save for a stained mattress pushed into the corner. She then saw that someone had written, in blood or red paint, she didn’t know, “Nesir Sah Roivas Eht,” on the wall. It was the same message that had been at each crime scene.

It would have been off-putting on its own, but it wasn’t until she turned around that she realized Hook’s real cause for distress. His back was to her, eyes clearly transfixed on the opposite wall. Someone, Lily or some third party, had covered the wall in photos. There was no white space peaking out; every single inch of wall was plastered with pictures.

Pictures of Emma.

Emma wasn’t sure how long she stared at the images, eyes traveling rapidly across the length of the wall. There were some that had been taken at her home, some that had been taken at the station. Henry, David, Mary Margaret, and Regina all made appearances in the collage. They appeared to go back as far as when she had first arrived in Boston, and the most recent one that she could see had been taken two weeks ago at a family dinner near the Harbor.

At some point during her panic attack she must’ve sunken down to her knees because Hook materialized in front of her. He crouched down so that he was physically shielding her from the wall, blocking it from her line of sight. “You’re okay, Swan,” he whispered, and his hand hovered over her shoulder, as though he were afraid to touch her.

Emma let out a shaky breath, slowly coming back down from the mental ledge she was about to jump off of. “She has a serial killer wall dedicated to me. She stalked me, she took pictures of my family, how the hell am I okay?”

Hook sighed, moving his hand back to his side. “On the plus side, Lily’s dead, so at least she’s not adding to her moving tribute.”

Emma shook her head and made a move to stand back up, Hook following after her. “We don’t know that she was the one who did this. Someone could’ve taken up residence here after she died and put the photos up. Hell, they could’ve been paying her to take those photos of me. She might not be the real culprit here.” Emma cut herself before she could admit her real fear, although she suspected that Hook, who was overly intuitive, already knew what it was.

Lily, who it appeared had been stalking Emma for the past decade or so, had turned up dead a few days ago. Any good cop knew that made Emma the prime suspect in an ongoing murder investigation.

Sure enough, Hook read her like the open book he claimed she was. “This doesn’t mean anything, Swan. You had no idea she was doing this until just now, your reaction to these photos was enough to prove that. I’ll make sure anyone who asks is quite clear on that. In fact, if you want we can just destroy the creepy tribute to you and no one will be the wiser.”

Emma laughed in spite of herself and, against all odds, felt grateful for Hook’s presence. He had an effortless way of making her feel a bit better, which probably had to do with the fact that whatever she’d seen, he’d seen worse. “Unfortunately, we need to report this. Could be crucial in finding whoever is really doing this. I’ll call David and get him to send a team out here.”

Emma was pulling out her phone to do just that when all of the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her muscles began to coil as the bile rose in her throat. The adrenaline that began to pump furiously through her veins could only be indicative of one thing.

Hook must have felt it too, because in half a second he was beside her and shifting so that he was facing the door, hook ready to meet whoever was coming.

Demon.

She approached slowly, sauntering out of the shadows like a model on a runway. She wore a skintight green dress and a black cape held together at the neck by an emerald broach. Her green leather gloves made Emma wonder if she was going for some sort of theme when she chose her outfit this morning. She was the kind of put together that Emma could only dream of being. The only thing that wasn’t immaculate about her, were the wild red curls that fell all around her long face. She was beautiful.

Beautiful and undoubtedly dangerous.

“My, my, my,” the demon purred as she stepped fully into the room, black heels clicking against the floor. “Isn’t this a pretty sight? An angel and a demon working together, please don’t stop on my account.” The woman had an English accent, and her tone seemed to be one of perpetual amusement even as she gave them a murderous glare.

“Zelena,” Hook growled, and the angel stepped back instinctively. His voice oozed with pure hatred, an anger directed towards the woman that Emma had yet to experience.

“So glad you remember me, my darling,” her ice blue eyes glistened jovially as she turned her attention to Emma. “Now, don’t be rude and introduce me to your new pet.”

Emma stepped forward, mostly because she could literally see the darkness radiating off of Hook, and it was only getting stronger. It wouldn’t be long before it temporarily overwhelmed him and then they’d really be screwed. Not to mention the fact that the woman’s condescending tone was grating on her. “The pet can speak for herself, and she’d like to know who the hell you are first.”

Zelena’s eyes lit up with satisfaction. “Oh, the doggy has some bite to her, does she? I’m Zelena Mills.”

Emma fell short at that. “Mills? As in Regina Mills?”

Hook, who seemed to be reigning himself in given that the dark aura around him had dimmed slightly, chuckled. “They’re sisters,” he said as though it were the most amusing fact in the world.

“Half sisters,” Zelena hissed and it was the first time she exuded a mood other than entertained.

“Aye, half sisters. Zelena got the crazy in the family, Regina got everything else,” Hook goaded.

If he was trying to get under the other demon’s skin, it worked. “Don’t talk about her in my presence or you’ll regret it.”

Hook rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the red-head. “Please, you and I both know I could send you right back to the backwoods you came from. Zelena, you and I fought this battle years ago.” Hook cocked his head and raised an eyebrow as he asked, “Have you forgotten who won?”

The female demon looked ready to pop with anger. Emma would’ve been amused if she herself wasn’t about to burst from the adrenaline rush was experiencing. Just as she was sure Zelena was about to strangle Hook, her face reverted to its amused expression. “Ah, Darling, hasn’t anyone informed you? There’s a new player in the game.”

Hook’s face fell. “What are you talking about?”

Zelena ignored him. “That’s quite the wall there. Such a moving tribute, it’s a shame really.” The demon smiled as she eyed the hundreds of photos of Emma from across the room.

The angel’s muscles locked up, something in Zelena’s words setting off alarm bells in her head. “What’s a shame?”

The woman was determined to evade all of their questions. “You know, I think you and I,” Emma was surprised to find Zelena looking at her and not Hook. “Are going to have a lot of fun with this,”she said as she moved towards the angel.

Suddenly, Zelena was on her knees, hands grasping the sides of her head as she let out a low scream. Emma turned to find Hook staring at her intently, chin lifted defiantly as he watched her suffer. The angel had to admit that it felt nice to be on the other side of his power as Zelena let out another yell.

“Enough games,” Hook whispered darkly as he dropped his chin. Zelena let out a gasp as she came back to reality. “Tell us why you’re here.”

Then, as if the day hadn’t been weird enough, Zelena began to laugh. It was a cackling noise that reverberated through the spartan room, and Emma couldn’t help but move a bit closer to Hook. “Oh, my darling, I should think it was obvious,” Zelena rasped as her blue eyes landed on the angel.

“I’m here to see Emma".

tagging people: @handsomeswan @natascha-remi-ronin @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky @tnlph @shady-swan-jones, @lenfaz, @o-u-a-timer

#the birds #cs fanfiction #captain swan fanfiction #cs ff #captain swan ff #cs au #captain swan au #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #angels and demons #captain swan #cs #hook #ouat ff #once upon a time ff

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