This is dedicated to "awkwardhook", who was my Captain Swan Secret Survivor on tumblr! Really great blog that everyone should follow.

It wasn't really a hard concept, he supposed. Duck. It was a simple word with a simple meaning: make oneself closer to the ground; smaller. Killian was having a really, really hard time coming up with a way to explain to David that he'd managed to let Emma get injured on his watch (though if she knew either of them were constantly on alert, ready to keep her away from danger, she'd probably kill them both before David had even a chance to lay a hand on Killian for getting them in this situation in the first place).

Then again, it really was half his fault. He'd yelled "duck", and since he usually called Emma "Swan", she'd thought he was toying with her (another thing he usually did). He didn't blame her at all. She'd whirled around with the intent to give him hell for what she'd assumed was a petty jab, but instead got hit on the top of her head with a rotted branch that had fallen from a nearby tree. It had knocked her out cold, and when she'd woken up in the hospital, she was about ready to murder him for taking her there in the first place.

He wasn't about to have it. Neither were her parents or Henry, who were all crammed into the tiny hospital room. The snarky man Killian had come to know as Dr. Whalenstein (Henry had laughed hard at that one) must have given Emma a sedative, Killian decided. Why else would his feisty Swan be peacefully sleeping when she could be bitching at people for putting her in the hospital?

Killian was just a tiny bit grateful to the doctor, though. As much as he loved Emma when she was awake (and yelling at him… he lied in Neverland. He did, in fact, fancy her very much when she was yelling at him), he knew she needed her rest and if she wasn't sedated, she'd probably be back at the apartment right now despite Dr. Whale's professional opinion.

With Emma sleeping peacefully and Snowing (Henry had come up with that one) back at the apartment with baby Neal, Killian decided he could leave her for a few moments (but most definitely come back) to get her something that would make her feel all better in no time.

Though it was a painful reminder of the loss of Baelfire, Killian knew that the gelatin substance he sought contained magical properties that would heal his Swan. Once sneaking into the back room of the Emergency Department, Killian opened the fridge and tried to decide on a color. With a smile, he hid his loot in his pocket and made his way back to Emma's room. He set it on the table in front of her and waited patiently.

The first thing Emma saw when she opened her eyes was yellow Jello. Then the pain in her head registered. Right. She'd gotten hit by a branch. Considering all the other things that could have happened –flying monkeys attacking, Gold blowing Storybrooke up, Peter Pan resurrecting from the dead, to name a few– Emma considered herself pretty damn lucky. Though she hadn't laid eyes on Killian yet, she could feel his presence. She looked over and smiled at him. He jumped up and knelt down next to her.

"How are you feeling, Love?" He asked quietly.

"I'm okay," She said, shifting in her bed a little bit. "I want to get out of here, though."

"I know you do. I think I can help with that." He stood up and brought the Jello over to her. "I went on a dangerous mission to a place far, far away called the 'kitchen' to retrieve this. There were guards dressed in blue all over the place," he winked. She smiled again, but not because of his tale. He thought Jello was some kind of medicine. Thinking back, it made sense. When he'd been in the hospital after Greg had ran him over, he'd woken up to Jello, too.

"Thank you." She didn't have the heart to tell him Jello wasn't actually going to aid in the healing process. "That was sweet of you to do." At that, Killian scratched at the back of his neck (something she found so goddamn adorable).

"Anything for my princess," he winked again. At that, she rolled her eyes, wishing oh so badly that she could insist she wasn't a princess. He pulled the white plastic chair closer to her bed so that he could sit right next to her.

"Where'd my parents go?"

"They didn't want Neal to be exposed to all the… germs? I think that's the word they used." He sounded almost apologetic as he explained to her that her parents had to leave to take care of their other child. "They want to be here, though," he continued. "They really, really do. It's just…" he trailed off, not really sure if he should –or could– continue that train of thought. There were some days he wanted to throttle the pair for some of the things they said to her. Of course, they never meant to purposely hurt her, but between them being bumbling idiots (he and Regina could agree on some things) and Emma being so good at hiding her feelings, he doubted they even realized they were hurting her.

"No, of course. They can't risk him getting sick," she said, waving her hand dismissively and wincing when she realized she had an IV in her hand. He saw the slip in her mask, though.

"They want to be with you, Emma." He took her hand in his, being careful of the IV. "But on the bright side, I'd take it as a good sign that they trust me enough to watch over you right now." She smiled at that and looked down at their entwined hands.

"I'm really okay, Killian." Now it was his turn to smile. No insisting she was 'fine'. No insisting that she could take care of herself. It was refreshing to be inside the walls instead of scaling them whilst taking a sledgehammer to them.

"Emma, I can't apologize enough for what happened," he started, but was cut off by her.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I was being my stupid, stubborn self and didn't just listen for once in my life. I had assumed you were being a smartass per usual, and though I heard the concern in your voice, I was annoyed because I am thirty years old and had been in a lot worse situations than wandering around in the woods looking for an old lady's cat. So," she sighed, "I'm sorry for scaring the crap out of you. But I promise I'm going to be fine. I just have a mild concussion, that's all. I've had worse." Sensing it was time to inject some humor into their conversation, he said,

"In all fairness to you, I can be a bit of a smartass."

"A bit?" She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Emma, I would never call you a 'duck'," he insisted. "Those are cute, little fuzzy creatures who then grow up into ugly, bigger creatures."

"So that's your way of telling me I'm pretty?"

"It's my way of telling you you're the strongest, most beautiful woman I've ever met." He removed his hand from hers to stroke her forehead. "You're also the most danger-prone woman I've ever met. Seriously, how did you just happen to be standing under the one branch that broke?"

"I don't know, Hook." She shook her head and gave a self-depreciating laugh. Her eyes landed on her Jello again, and Killian immediately knew what she wanted. He shot out of his seat and handed it to her, spoon and all. "Thanks," she smiled. She took a bite, then asked, "Why yellow?"

"Your land vessel is yellow, and yelling 'duck' is what got us in this mess in the first place, and ducks are yellow, so I figured you might like it," he said with a shrug. Though his second reason for choosing yellow was more than a little obvious, she knew he had a tendency to state the obvious when he was nervous... such as when he was being sweet.

"I do, thanks." Again, she smiled. It was something she found herself doing more often, and she was definitely willing to chalk it up to him being around. Yellow Jello had always been her favorite simply because it rhymed.

A few minutes after he'd set the little plastic cup on the table for her, he asked, almost impatiently, "Do you feel better yet?" with a hopeful smile on his face. Once again, Emma found herself unable to tell him the truth about Jello.

"Yeah," she reached out and squeezed his hand, "I do." She hoped with that gesture, she could tell him that him being there was making her feel better faster than any Jello would.