Before The Dawn

Summary: "It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone. It's always darkest before the dawn" Six months since Killian left. Six months since Emma stopped feeling whole. Six months of nothing...and now he's back.

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters (unfortunately)

A/N: I've got two CS works-in-progress that I'm struggling to update at the moment. So any of you guys who are waiting for new chapters for Looking For Trouble & All Hands, Below Deck - here's a one-shot I hope can tide you over for a bit. It's a small drabble idea I had that completely ran away from me as I wrote it, and turned out much longer than I expected! Heavily inspired by the song "Shake It Out" by Florence + The Machine.

Also dedicated to AMiserableLove for all her fantastic CS stories that I can never get enough of!

(Revised and edited as of June 2014.)

"Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments"

She threw the doors open and stepped out into the cool summer air. It was that awkward timing of early dawn, where it was much too late to try for sleep, and yet too early to be fully awake. Watching the sky, she saw the first rays of the morning sunrise slowly start to seep their way through the endless expanse above her.

It was moments like these, looking out at the vast land before her, that Emma Swan had to remind herself where she was.

Of who she was.

A princess.

She could feel the derisive snort ready at the thought.

Emma Swan.

Orphan. Thief. Jailbird. Pregnant Teen. Loner. And now somehow, royalty.

Taking in her surroundings she found herself still not quite used to them. They'd been settled here for almost a year now and it was still hard for her to picture this new life she found herself in at times. Getting used to her family, her son and the community she was suddenly a part of was one thing. Understanding the rules and responsibilities of being the princess of an entire land was another thing entirely. For some reason the fact that she now had a home (with countless rooms, a grand hall and turrets) was always what stumped Emma.

It was frankly unbelievable.

And yet, it was her life now.

After years of living a lonely existence, it was almost overwhelming the events that had happened since her twenty-eighth birthday. Reuniting with her son, and her parents was only the beginning. To think emotional trauma was the only side effect she had been expecting to that endeavour, and all of a sudden she found herself in battles between good versus evil, and a life led by real fairytale characters. She was thrust immediately into a world where travelling realms was an option, and one that she partook in far too often - going from Storybrooke to the Enchanted Forest to Neverland and back. Making life-altering decisions was almost an every day occurrence at this point, her most recent resolution having involved leaving Storybrooke and her entire world as she knew it behind; and starting anew in a land she knew nothing of, yet had more influence over than she would have ever believed. Not to mention on top of everything else, she was also wielding powers from within her that she never could have fathomed having to begin with. And then of course there was that emotional trauma she had been expecting, just not from a source she would have ever pictured it coming from. She had taken the biggest chance on closing the door to an old love that she once thought true, and discovering a new one in the last place she expected.

Well, almost.

Sighing to herself, she immediately tampered down the bitter thoughts looking to invade her mind.

Not today.

No.

There had to be one day. Just one goddamn day where she didn't think about it. About him. And all the images of swashbuckling black leather. Of a silver metal hook gleaming in the moonlight. She needed to erase her mind of all the salacious little smirks that would savagely try to overthrow it.

It wasn't worth the pain.

Soaking in the morning air, she clamped all those memories to the deep recesses of her mind. Locked away and not to be reawakened in any case. It was the crack of dawn, the start of another day. The people of the Enchanted Forest may still be resting, their princess on the other hand, she was wide awake and ready.

A new day.

And she vowed to only look forward.

"And I've been a fool and I've been blind
I can never leave the past behind"

In retrospect, she should have known.

Her life really did have shit for timing.

The day had come where she finally decided never to look back. When she finally learnt that it didn't help anything, and it sure as hell didn't make her feel any better. She was ready to move on and leave those persistently stubborn thoughts behind.

So she did.

She had breakfast with her family; all the while openly cringing at the sickeningly sweet displays of affection that her parents insisted on having. Despite the constant protest and groaning, she did secretly admire the way they loved each other. Partners through everything. Never doubting that the other was there for each other. Always and forever as they liked to remind one another.

Must be nice for some.

Again with the bitter.

God, she needed to get laid.

Woah.

Well there's a thought she hadn't had in a while.

Trying not to over-analyse she turned to her son – her beautiful and charismatic son. The new realm certainly suited him. He loved his new life; openly wanting to learn and do everything. From horse riding to sword fighting to shooting arrows and learning strategy. Already morphing into the fine prince he would make one day. She wished she had his enthusiasm; his constant grateful joy for his life.

Not that she was ungrateful.

It just felt like she was missing something within her. Something that could truly finally bring her at peace with the life that she was living.

And the worst part was she knew exactly what it was.

Or rather who.

Excusing herself from the table, she ruffled her son's hair affectionately as she made her way to the stables. Looking down at the acceptable slacks and tunic she had currently donned for herself, she was happy not to have to return to the castle for the moment to change. She just wanted to be outside for a bit. Away from the constant reminders of what she didn't have that her parents did. Riding usually provided a good distraction, and she wasn't half bad at it either. It was one of the first things she picked up once they came to this realm. A fact that her father approved of, even gifting her with her own horse once she grew confident in the act.

She rode for a good hour or so. Through the gardens, the woodland, to the nearest village and back.

It was invigorating.

And needed.

She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. The rush of the wind against her as she flew through the ever changing landscape. It was refreshing in the best way, creating an energetic thrill within her that coursed throughout her entire body, bringing a red tint to her cheeks that gave her a healthy glow. Her hair whipped in the breeze around her, like a fierce golden halo, the bold feature being the only thing that a passer-by would recognise as she flit by on her stallion. The air was pure and clear here; she'd never felt so free and spirited as she did on these rides. It was one part of her new life that she would never want to give up. Of course, it was just when she was feeling the best that she had in recent memory, that she was once again unceremoniously torn down.

She slowly made her way back to the castle, trotting round to the stables. Pulling her reigns in to slow the horse down, he came to a short stop. Right at the foot of the leather clad body.

No.

Her eyes moved up slowly, in complete disbelief.

No.

They travelled the path of black leather, eventually meeting a face of well-kept scruff that she was all too familiar with.

No. No. No.

Finally they trailed up to the brightest blue orbs she'd ever seen.

And come to miss.

Hell no.

This was wrong. It had to be. It had been too long, and she had hurt too much. Closing her eyes, she took a breath and willed away the image before her. It was a hallucination, sent from the pathetic part of her mind that refused to let go. It was not real, and she would not let it break her. She was moving on, past what she thought was a sure thing once upon a time. She pushed back the image into the deep recesses of her mind, as far as her messed up psyche would let her. And then opened her eyes with a resolute determination.

Only to see him again.

Right there. His body stoic, unmoving. His face directed to hers. His expression something she could not even begin to describe.

And then her name left his lips.

A soft whisper threatening to break everything she had instilled within her.

Clearly he was not a hallucination of her screwed up mind.

Figures.

She was finally ready to forget him.

And that's when he shows up.

Part of her was screaming finally.

Most of her just wanted to run him through where he stood.

"And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone"

God she hated him.

Emma Swan did not hide. She did not cower. She did not run.

Well not any more.

And certainly not from an arrogant prick that thought he had the right to waltz in and out of her life as he saw fit.

Stupid stupid man.

Back barely a day from whatever hole he decided to crawl out of and already ruining everything. All that she'd built for herself - the walls she'd taken time to reinstate around her. Perfected to prevent any intruders from knocking them down.

Especially a swaggering peacock of a pirate captain.

She hated him.

And she was hiding.

Creeping through the hallways of a castle that she should have been running in and out of throughout an entirely lost childhood; she kept quiet and alert. Avoidance was the name of the game. She had no idea what possessed her parents into thinking that having Hook stay at the castle was such a fan-fucking-tastic idea. Well more her mother than her father. Snow had a rather daring twinkle in her eye as she made the suggestion, causing herself, her father and her…well Hook to baulk at the idea simultaneously. Of course the latter recovered first and warmed up to the plan quite enthusiastically. She hadn't missed the way his eyes had fixated on her the entire time.

David hadn't either. He'd tried to divert the pirate's attention a few times, even threatening him with his own hook. But he still stubbornly refused to stop staring.

Bastard knew it was annoying her.

Of course she didn't give him the satisfaction too long. Without saying a word to him since his arrival, she turned on her feet and walked out of the room, leaving him and his obtrusive eyes with her parents.

And she'd managed to stay out of sight since.

She may not have the childhood knowledge of all the best hiding places in her new (old?) home, but she'd been here a fair few months now and well, if Hook wanted to find her then good luck. Feeling a sudden sense of confidence, she turned down the next passageway almost excited at seeing the doorway to her own room looming not so far ahead. Just a few more paces and she'll have successfully dodged him for another day.

Almost home free, she reached her hand out to open her door, when when her arm was snagged out from under her. Next thing she knew, she was being pulled into an alcove off the side off the hallway.

"What the-"

"Oh, so she can speak!"

"Hook" she practically spit.

"Swan" he responded with his usual charming grin. Not that she thought it was charming. At all.

Neither was the way he was looking at her right now. Those blue orbs she was once able to lose herself in were perusing her top to bottom. Very slowly.

"When you're quite done"

His eyes immediately snapped back up to hers, a smirk curling over his features. God that smirk. She was itching to slap it off his face.

And deep deep down, seeing that smirk stirred something in her. Something she willed away and preferred not to think about.

"My apologies princess" there was nothing sincere about his words. Pirate. "I was merely taking in the new apparel. I must say, royalty does look good on you love"

Emma rolled her eyes. She hated what she was wearing, and he knew it. After one too many arguments with Snow, she finally agreed to allow her mother one day a week where Emma reluctantly wore a dress. She'd never been much of a girly girl, but Snow practically lit up every time she agreed to wear one, and she couldn't take that away from her.

Distracted for the moment, she didn't notice that he'd shifted closer.

"Though nothing quite compares to seeing you in leather" his mouth was almost at her ear, and she had no idea how he managed to get so close or why she was letting him "Except of course...the vision you are in absolutely nothing at all"

Way too close.

Her breathing was suddenly out of focus.

Yet another reason to hate him.

His words did nothing but bring up more memories. Images of them tangled together; in a bed, on the deck of his ship, in the jungles of another realm. Desperate passionate encounters, heightened emotions, sensual touches that had them losing themselves in each other time and time again.

No.

She was not going back there. Ever.

It only ended in her miserable and alone.

She'd learnt her lesson. One too many times.

Hardening her defences, she shot him a look of pure loathing. If he were any other man he would have known to back away. But he was Killian Jones better known as Captain friggin Hook. He never backed down. And when it came to Emma Swan, he found, he never would.

"Well you better hold on to those memories. They're all you'll ever have."

She turned away again leaving him alone in the dark. She'd almost gotten inside her room when she heard him calling her name. Against her better judgement she stopped in the doorway, though keeping her back to him.

"Emma..."

So soft that she almost missed it.

There had always been something about the way he would say her name. It would depend on his mood of course, but when he would speak it so gently in those quiet intimate moments between them, it always held that same note of reverence to it. Like she was something so precious to him.

And for a while she had believed that she was.

"I never meant to leave you"

Her eyes squeezed closed. She could hear the pain of his remorse in his voice. The way it almost cracked at the end. That was the problem when you know someone as well as she did him. Sometimes she knew him better than she knew herself. And loathe though she was to admit it, it went both ways.

"But you did"

Her response was cold. Firm.

And without looking back, she closed the door behind her.

If only closing her heart was as simple.

"And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope"

Just beyond her doorway, the pirate left standing there could only stare at the barrier separating him from the woman he loved.

The woman he'd left.

The woman he didn't deserve.

A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.

Words that he echoed to his nemesis centuries ago, and ones that he has never yet forgotten. Now more than ever.

He wanted Emma Swan - there was never a question about that.

He could never hate himself enough for what he'd put her through. He was the one person that vowed not to break her, and yet he managed to put one last scar on her heart. As if she didn't have enough to begin with. He made a mistake. And it was no small thing. For a woman plagued with issues of abandonment and haunted by lost love, he came in and in one fell swoop he reawakened the lost girl within her.

He'd broken his Swan and there would never be a day that went by that he would not regret that.

He had justified it a million times in his mind. The reasons he held onto for disappearing from her life. Those same fears struck him now still, never far from his thoughts. Strong enough to have forced him to go in the first place. Six months since the day he had made the worst decision of his life. For a man to make the claims he had made to her, of love and life and all the things in between. And for him to then betray all the promises he'd made, as if it was all nothing to him.

Which was the biggest lie of all.

It was everything.

She was everything.

And he was a coward.

He was a coward when he chose to leave. He let his fears override his love for her. And it had not been long after he left that he realised that he could not bear the separation. But those thoughts were selfish, and she was better off without him. So he continued and he survived with just the memories of moments with her. After all, surviving lost love was something he excelled at. The only difference this time was, he had made the choice to lose her, she had not been taken from him.

He had made the wrong choice.

And now he may have lost her for good.

He should have stayed.

They would be together.

He should have spoken to her of his fears. Of the thoughts that were shadowing his mind, making him question his place with her. But he didn't. And he went the way of a coward. Quietly in the middle of the night. He could feel the distaste rising within him at the remembrance of his own actions.

Standing outside her door now, he knew that the choice he would make this time would be the right one.

He may not be able to rewrite their past, but he could change their future. He was never one to not learn from his mistakes, and just because he was foolish enough not to hold onto her once, doesn't mean he wouldn't have her again.

A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.

He was going to fight.

Fight like hell until his Swan was back in his arms.

And then never let go.

"It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
'Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me"

Emma was seriously going to punch something.

Or more precisely someone.

Him.

After months of nothing. Pure, dead, complete silence. He was suddenly everywhere.

And she mean't everywhere.

He was there in the morning when she had breakfast with her parents. Charming her mother, ribbing at her father, constantly sending her bedroom eyes over the table. He was there when she went for her morning ride, offering to give her a leg up to her saddle with a cheeky grin. When she was taking Henry through the town, he insisted that as a gentleman he had to escort them, getting along famously with her son while he was at it (she was finding it really hard not to feel betrayed by her entire family). During her sword-fighting lessons with David, Hook was there. Her archery sessions with Snow, Hook was there. When she felt like taking a stroll, Hook was there.

It seemed she couldn't take a step, without him being on her heels.

And it was getting harder and harder to keep ignoring him.

Not when he would not stop.

It had been six months since he'd left. No word, no letter, no goodbye. Nothing. Just gone in the middle of the night. And then suddenly he appears as if not a day had passed, sticking to her side like glue.

Like she actually wanted him there.

Which she didn't.

Not then and not now.

Speaking of...

"Seriously?"

Walking out the castle, she was met by the current thorn in her side.

She thought she'd gotten away with keeping her plans to visit Red a secret. No doubt her mother had clued in her stalker. Apparently no matter how safe the area that her godmother lived in, her leather-clad shadow seemed to deem it necessary to escort her to the premises.

Forget the fact that she was trying her hardest to avoid him like the plague.

Because he was being rather ignorant of that little fact. Which she in turn found severely irritating. Did he not know it was common courtesy that maybe when someone clearly wanted nothing to do with you, you should stay the hell out of their way? Or if someone had nothing to say to you, then maybe you shouldn't be trying to flirt with them incessantly? Or that just because you were a walking talking ad for GQ, in too much muscle toning leather, with a stupidly attractive face; it did NOT mean you could come back after six months of nothing and try to make it up to the woman whose heart you completely shattered into pieces the day you left?

No.

He did not get that.

And she was getting really tired at having to spell it all out for him.

"Swan" he bowed.

He actually fucking bowed.

Asshole.

"What are you doing here?"

"You know very well no princess should ever leave the castle without an escort or guard"

"I'm hardly a princess, and I can take care of myself"

He chuckled. "Oh I am very well aware of that fact Emma"

He'd deepened his voice on purpose. Like that was going to get a reaction out of her (she wasn't going to acknowledge the shudder she felt down her spine. She merely needed to invest in a better jacket)

"Good. Then you can take a hike. You're not needed"

So she was being a bitch.

As far as she was concerned, she was very much entitled to be so.

Expecting a quick smart-alec comeback from him, she was surprised to see him drop the cocky façade and frown almost despondently. Though it was noted that he had stepped quite a bit closer.

Always with the personal space.

"I never was, was I?"

Her brow furrowed. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He looked her in the eye, his expression dead serious. This wasn't the time for jokes or flippant comments. She noticed the abrupt change in atmosphere; tensely coiled like a spring. Ready to snap when you least expect it.

"You, Emma Swan, never did need me."

Her eyes snapped to his, startled by the change in his tone. Soft, gentle and again, there was that quiet reverence. Where was he going with this? "You've never needed anyone. Always been a brave lass. Strong. Independent. Resourceful. Beautiful" His lips quirked up just a little at the end; he knew she never believed anyone saw her that way. He'd been the first to make her feel more than just your average pretty."Life may not have been kind to you, but you never let it defeat you. So you've never needed. Not anything, and not anyone" his tone was resolute at this point. Like he was just stating fact. This was how he saw her, and he had never been so sure of anything. She should be saying something, interrupting him - telling him to sod off already. Instead, she found it almost hard to breathe.

"I was foolish enough to believe that for a time, you did need...that you needed me." He chuckled darkly. She didn't like the sound. It was full of self-loathing and deep seated issues. She'd heard it often enough from her own mouth. "But I was wrong." He moved much closer. His breath mingling with hers. "You see Emma, it was I who needed you"

These were words. Just words. She needed to remember that.

She had to hold on to any semblance of control.

He may have meant that in that past. He may mean it now. But he had hurt her.

And she was done being hurt.

His eyes had drifted to her lips, just as she opened her mouth.

"You left me"

That's all it took to break the elusive spell he'd managed to cast around them. And yes, she was solely placing the blame on his shoulders. Because she didn't ask for this, she didn't ask for him to make her fall in love with him. She didn't ask for him to then leave her without a second thought.

And she sure as hell didn't ask him to come back.

He closed his eyes, pain etched into every line of his face. She backed away, not wanting him to catch any signs of how close she'd been to throwing herself back on him.

"I never should have"

She shook her head, her anger returning. "You can't change what's already been done"

Moving to go past him, he grabbed her hand at the last second. Her heart leapt. She inwardly scolded it back into place.

"You can't pretend not to feel what is still there"

She turned her face to his this time, his attention already steadfastly on hers - as always.

"Who said I was pretending?"

This time she didn't have to pull her hand away. She'd struck hard, just as she wanted to. Finally giving him a piece of what she had lived with these past months.

And when she made her way to her godmother's house (alone), she tried to forget the utter look of hurt and pain on his face. And the feeling of disgust welling up inside.

Funny, she thought he would've figured it out.

Read her like the open book she was.

Seems he was out of practice.

"Our love is pastured, such a mournful sound
Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground"

It was a week later when they had guests.

A visiting king from Camelot, his faithful wife and a few knights from some prestigious round circle of his. The Charmings had been wonderful hosts of course. Henry was on his best behaviour as a dutiful prince-in-training would be. Hook had managed to wrangle himself into the good graces of everyone at the table, already swapping stories and laughter with a few of the knights.

Emma was beginning to wonder who was the interloper here.

The only one that seemed out of place in this scene, was her.

Just as she was thinking up an excuse to get herself out of the next five courses, it seemed her attention had been called upon. By none other than one of the King's most trusted knights.

"You know princess, you really shouldn't frown so much"

She quirked an eyebrow at the man opposite her. Strong jawline, dark hair hitting shoulder-length and bright brown eyes with a mischievous look about them. His mouth was set in an easy smile, anything he said was purely meant in jest.

"And why is that? To prevent wrinkles?"

Smart mouth. Her mother wouldn't appreciate it (good thing she didn't overhear).

"Hardly. It just makes you a hard woman to approach"

"And yet you're still talking"

He was supposed to take the hint.

Instead he just grinned.

"It'll take more to ward me off I assure you"

"Well I'll just have to grab my bow and arrow then"

"Too late princess, I've already been hit and lived to tell the tale"

"Oh?"

"Right through the heart" he patted it inconsequentially

"Is that right?" she spied him, curious.

"Indeed," he smiled charmingly, "the moment I saw you" and winked.

It was ridiculously cheesy.

And yet, she laughed.

This time her mother did over-hear. And she wasn't the only one.

The rest of the meal she was engaged in conversation with the handsome knight - Sir Gwaine. He was funny, attractive, and easy to hold all manners of conversation with. Emma wasn't looking for anything of a sort, her heart was too tied up in emotional baggage and too used to being a punching back for unresolved entanglements. But she still found it nice to have some rich warm-hearted banter with a man that was clearly attracted to her. It did wonders to soothe a much damaged ego. After the meal the somewhat cocky knight (it seemed she really had a type) had invited her for a walk, which Emma didn't deny him. She found she liked his company, even though she did not want anything more. He was surprisingly intuitive and managed to surmise as much himself. Somehow he had a knowing look in his eyes, and Emma didn't know what to make of it. Rest assured, he bowed out of his romantic pursuit gracefully and cheekily added that should she change her mind, he wanted to be the first to know. A simple kiss on her hand, and a potential suitor walked out of her castle and back to his city with his king.

She doubted she would see Gwaine again, but the whole situation had managed to rejuvenate her a little.

Walking back through the gardens, she was startled out of her musings.

"Enjoy your evening princess?"

Well someone was angry.

"I was until now"

"Is that so?" His tone was somewhat mocking, his words edgy, his eyes ablaze. Brushing aside her flippancy, she sensed there was something very wrong here.

"Is there something you want Captain?"

It's funny she should use his title now. The one time he didn't look the part. Snow had been adamant that if he was to join their company for dinner, the leather had to go for the night. Standing before her, Hook was currently dressed in similar clothes to her father's royal garb. It did bear a resemblance to the type of clothing she'd seen on some of the Navy sailors down at the docks.

"Oh I was just curious as to how your budding new romance was faring. Tell me is it True Love already?" He practically spat out the words, a withering snarl on his face (which really didn't subtract from his overall handsomeness). She caught the the stiff position of his body, the way his hand was clenched as if wanting to punch something. His eyes were travelling over her face as if to get the answers he was looking for.

It reminded her of the dinner they'd had mere hours ago. She may have been caught up in talks with Gwaine, but she wasn't completely unobservant. She'd caught the look on his face when she first laughed. The small smile he sent her way, only for it to retract when he saw who it was that she was sharing the moment with. She'd felt his eyes burning a hole through the side of her head the entire way through the meal. No, she had not been oblivious to it, if anything she almost revelled in it. To see him so out of sorts and caught up in an emotional frenzy simply at the thought of her attentions being kept elsewhere, on another man; well it thrilled her slightly. After all the emotional turmoil he'd put her through, she was more than happy to spurn some back in his direction.

Hook on the other hand, was not so appreciative of this new development. He had been on edge through every single course of that godforsaken meal. Seeing her fawning over that long-haired pillock. It unnerved him to no end. The idea that she could, that she would want another man. His mind was almost slapping the irony in his face, taunting him with reasons that had caused him to leave in the first place. But if there was one thing he'd learnt by now, it was that his mind simply did not see reason when it came to Emma Swan...

"True Love? What would Captain Hook know about that?"

...the woman drove him bloody mad.

He could not have moved his eyes off her if he tried. Every second of the dinner was filled with the vision of her, smiling in a way that he hadn't seen in too long. Laughing in a way that made a man starved to hear more. The small sharp gestures of her hands, the witty retorts slipping so naturally from her lips, the daring twinkle in those stormy green eyes. He had lost so much time with her due to his own stupidity. And seeing her that way again, she had him mesmerized.

She always had.

And yet. He grit his teeth together, all but growling his fury. The closest he had ever seen of her old self around him was brought on by another man. Some do-gooder knight who felt he had the right to move in on his woman.

And by gods, she would deny it to hell and back - would fight him tooth and nail to make the point that Emma Swan belonged to no one but herself.

But standing before her, seeing the utter look of rage on her face (directed at him no less), he saw her. The storm that had gathered in those lovely green orbs of hers. The razor sharp edges to her face, which at their best made her the stunning princess she was born to be, and at their worst formed a thing of wild brazen beauty. The curls that lay in wait, golden strands falling oh-so-temptingly around her face. The angry smirk that was just asking to be pulled between his teeth.

More than anything - the picture of her standing before him, ready for a fight.

Always fighting.

She was a temptress. A siren. She'd ensnared him within her trap from the start.

He never stood a chance.

And neither did she.

Swinging forward, she barely had time to blink before he was on her.

"And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues drawn"

Her back hit the wall, the sharp pain immediately forgotten in place of the mind-numbing pleasure she was feeling.

Oh dear god.

It had been long.

Way. Too. Long.

"Bloody hell Swan"

His moan tore through her senses, the familiar sound only heightening her arousal. Her hand gripped the back of her head and she pulled him up hard, latching her lips onto his.

It was all wrong.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She couldn't be doing this.

Feeling this.

But she had soon come to realise that she had no control. Not when it came to this man. It goes to show how twisted she is, the one guy her body never gets tired of is the same one that broke her heart to begin with. She had vowed to never to open herself to him again, and despite current circumstances she still stood by that. Ever since that day, that meal, that kiss. He had launched himself on her with reckless abandon, and she had just as stupidly given in.

Well her body had.

Her mind and her heart were still on the same page.

Captain Hook was nothing more than a warm body for the night. She was not going to go down that path again. Not with him.

Not with anyone.

One thing she couldn't deny however was the overloading chemistry between them. The passion she knew was there had never been questionable. It had been simmering under the surface since the moment they met. And grown into a full blown inferno when they had finally come together in Neverland. As soon as he'd suddenly returned after radio silence for half a year, she honestly thought every single feeling she had for him had been snuffed out.

She had not considered her libido.

Clearly.

God he had a talented tongue.

Expert pirate that he was, he had swept between her lips, instantly plundering her mouth and devouring every inch of it he could reach. His hand was everywhere at once. Tugging through her blonde strands, digging into her hip until she was flush against him, gripping the back of her neck as he angled her head. He pushed his lips against hers harder, his tongue delving in deeper than ever.

His hook had conveniently managed to tear a slit through her dress (yes to Hook's sinful delight, it was one of Snow's mandatory dress days). The tear ran all the way up to her hip. Slipping the hooked arm under her leg, he tugged it up around his waist, her other leg joining it a second later as he shoved her further up the wall. Her arms gripped onto his back furiously, scratching and tearing at his shirt until it came right off.

He hauled her over to the bed, making sure to get a handful of her ass on the way down. It was rough. Hard. Dirty. Their lips were battling it out, words no longer of any consequence. She took out all her fury on him and he fought back with all his devotion to her. He knew he had a long way to go if he was ever to get her back, but he knew better than most that the hardest path was usually the most worthwhile. And Emma was more than worth fighting for.

Their bodies fell into each other as they hit the bed. His lips dove for her neck while his hook pinned her arms above her. His hand began toying with one of her breasts, pinching and rolling the peak with his fingers. She couldn't stop the moans falling from her mouth, as he lowered his onto her chest. Her hand kept running through his hair, keeping him there - sucking, biting, kissing her flesh. The heat within her was coiled tight, ready to break at any given moment. Her body felt alive for the first time since he'd left, all those months ago. All those times that they could have been doing precisely this.

A sudden urge to over power him spiked through her. Throwing force behind her actions, enough to unpin herself and push them over so that he found himself under her. The thrill she could see shoot through his face, was taken over by a hazy lust as he took her in from his new vantage point. The smug grin on his face only grew wider as his eyes dropped to her breasts. Bare and inviting to his touch. And touch he did.

She may have thought she had the upper hand, straddling over his stomach, kissing him to the point of oblivion. But he still had a thing or two to show her. They were evenly matched. Always were. The searing heat in their looks and soft touches were nothing compared to this. This relentless blinding passion that could go on and on.

And it did.

In the stables.

The hallways.

His bed.

Her carriage.

A balcony.

Any and every surface they could pretty much find.

She knew she was only feeding his ego and all those wild notions he still had about them. She heard him in the dead of the night, when he thought she was in a deep slumber. In truth she feigned sleep in order to hear the soft mutterings and musings of the pirate lain beside her. The soft spoken apologies and heartfelt promises of never leaving her again. Of loving her until he took his last breath.

Most of the time she couldn't take it. She refused to believe it.

To believe again would be to be vulnerable again.

And she didn't know if she could survive one more burn.

One more heavy scar weighing on an already fragile heart.

But then there was this tiny tiny part of her that would not let it go. That kept echoing his words at the back of her head. That kept feeling a slight ray of hope whenever she fell asleep, only to wake up still in his arms. That would choose to look past the burning desire he had in his eyes for her body, and see the unwavering yearning to want to simply hold her. Be by her side. Love her.

The endless nights of sex she could handle.

The continuous mission he was on to love her whether she allowed it or not - that she found harder to bear.

So she put that out of her mind as much as she could. Hating him, fighting him, taunting him all the time. Trying to make up for six months of torture with her own brand of revenge. She had never claimed to be a perfect soul and she never figured she was above others when it came to the simple vengeful act of human nature. What surprised her the most was the he took it. He took it all. The brunt of her anger, the loathing in her words. The hissing in her tone, the slap behind each gesture. He allowed her her scorn, he was the cause of it after all.

But for every snarl she threw in his direction, he had a smirk to throw back in hers.

Each slap that she rightfully gave him, he replied with a kiss that left her too weak to stand.

And every single vile thing she could throw at him, he simply returned with stark honest words of devotion.

He was no sap about it (he was Captain Hook after all).

But he fought her the whole way.

Every.

Single.

Time.

The man had no idea how to give up.

So she'd tried her latest tactic. Jealousy.

She'd been dropping Gwaine's name here and there in conversation for the past few days. Enjoying the way his neck would snap in her direction. The sudden stance he would take as if ready to haul her off to his bed. Typical caveman style. If there was one thing about pirates, it was that they were possessive of their treasure. And to the Captain of the Seas - the pirate legend himself - the greatest treasure he'd ever discovered was this maddening slip of a woman who was constantly in his thoughts, and never left his heart.

And he would fucking rain down hell on anyone that tried to take his most priceless jewel from him.

All it took was one casual mention on how Gwaine's lips had felt on her (she neglected to mention that he had kissed her hand and nothing else), when she suddenly found herself bent backwards over her night-stand, naked as the day she was born, with him pounding furiously into her. This time wasn't about him proving his love to her, or showing her that he wasn't going anywhere.

It was animalistic.

He was stalking his claim to her.

Marking her. Everywhere. On all the parts of her that no one would see, especially not some fucking knight of Camelot. And all the parts that were visible to all. Lest any other man see her and think she was unattached. As he bit down on her pulse point, his length thrusting through her very core, again, and again, he heard her beg for more.

And he would give it.

But this time, there was something he wanted first.

Something he had been longing to hear since the moment he returned to her.

He pulled out abruptly, leaving only the tip of his length at her entrance. She whimpered, urging him back in. Angry at him for his teasing. For her need of him. Angry over so many things.

"What do you want love?" he whispered softly, nibbling at her ear.

"You fucking know what I want" she all but growled

"I do believe I would like to hear you say it" he licked along her earlobe, pulling out another unwitting moan from her.

God she hated him. So. Much.

"I...want..." her head fell back further as he furiously kissed down her jawline, grinding his hip into hers, purposely grazing her opening before moving back again.

"Goddamit Hook!" she panted. This was supposed to be a quick easy fuck. What the hell was he doing?

"That's not my name love" his voice had an edge to it. As though he was waiting for something. She almost felt like she was being tested. With no clue as to the what and why of it all.

"Say. It."

He latched onto her breast, his mouth working furiously, as his hand teased the other. She felt like she was about to come undone. She needed him inside of her that second. Fuck!

"I...I need...you...Oh!" His lips had returned to hers, a small reward for getting the right answer. He slowly started entering her, stretching out her walls, feeling how unbelievably tight she was around him. They both groaned at the contact and the delicious friction it was creating. She shuddered as he slowly began thrusting in and out. Short bursts to begin with. Only to get harder, faster, deeper.

She couldn't see or feel anything besides him. He had surrounded her and she was drowning in him.

"That's right Emma, you feel that?" He hit harder, hitting that fine line right between pleasure and pain. "That's me inside you" She moaned in response. He nuzzled her neck. "It's always going to be me, no one else." His mouth found her ear again, she was going to hear his next words as he drove into her, filling her to the brim. "You're mine Emma. All. Mine."

Her body arched to further into his, setting a new angle between them. His thrusts managing to bring her to a new sexual high than anything she'd experienced before. His words should have pissed her off but in actuality they made her feel hotter. Made her want to succumb to his every desire and claim him back like he was doing with her.

"Yours"

They kissed again and this time she could feel all the sensations burning between them. Passion. Anger. Need. Hate. Love. It was all there.

And right when they reached that final peak, coming together in their release, she said the one thing that he'd been waiting to hear.

"Killian"

And that's when he knew.

"And I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart"

It was one night when they'd ended up naked, wrapped up in blankets on the balcony attached to her room.

Killian had noted that she hadn't used his name again since that one and only time.

When he'd originally come back for her, she'd called him a variety of creatively scathing titles. Her quick wit was definitely one of the most attractive parts of her and despite the fact that she had directed a number of venomous and quite frankly crass nicknames in his direction (she really would make a fine pirate), he had still managed to admire that she could be just that smart and witty all the same.

But to finally hear her say his name.

After months.

It meant something.

When she went back to Hook, she had put a distance up between them. A tortuously tall barrier, keeping her mind, body and heart locked away from him. The quest to her body had been breached first. Hearing her say his name, meant that her mind was slowly acquiescing to his presence. Whether wilfully or not. He'd picked up on little things since then. Her hateful words had lessened. That blasted knight wasn't brought up again. She wasn't always in a hurry to escape his presence. She stood a little taller when he was by her side. Small and slight touches occurred here and there. Nothing consequential, but they made his heart beat that much faster nonetheless.

He was weakening her defences.

And right now with her lying on his chest, playing with his hairs while he kept her locked in his arms (unwilling to let her go for the moments she would come to him), he made a decision.

"We need to talk"

Her hand froze.

She knew what he was referring to.

And he knew she knew.

And if he didn't move fast enough, she was going to retreat. And regroup. Behind that impossibly tall barrier. Which had been bad enough the first time round. But the Emma he came back to eight months ago, she had managed to create bulletproof reinforcements, complete with spiked defences, a bloody moat and a dragon circling the premises.

"I left you"

Her hand clenched.

Her body shook threateningly.

Her voice however was rock steady.

"Yes...you did"

If he hadn't known any better, he would've read nothing in the blasé nonchalant tone she'd put on. But he knew her better than that. He knew her. And he knew that despite the indifferent attitude she was displaying, there was a lot of emotion brewing beneath the surface.

"You claimed to love me, then you left"

Okay that he hadn't expected.

He had been planning to tread the waters, and she pulled out the anchor from under him. Typical Swan.

He closed his eyes, the pain her words triggered - she may never understand.

Immediately he turned them around. She was startled to find herself on her back, the sheets twisting between them as he leaned on his hooked arm and gazed down at her. His good hand trailed over her face then. Running through her hair and stroking her face. Her eyes, cheeks, lips, all the way down her neck, before going back up again. It was as though he was trying to memorise her face through his touch.

His eyes caught hers then. And she felt all the breath escape her.

He was staring at her, through her. Drinking her in with everything he had.

She had always had a thing for his eyes. They managed to convey every emotion he had, everything he tried to bury inside. Nobody else had ever seen past his façade that he put on, but she always managed to read it through those bright blue eyes of his. So raw and open. Right now, she saw was pain. And hope. Determination. Loathing. Insecurity. So many different feelings swirling in the depth of his gaze.

But most of all, deep, unabashed, unfaltering love.

"I didn't claim to love you Emma Swan." It felt like he was whispering, yet she had never heard his voice come out so strong.

"I do love you."

She stared at him.

Shocked.

Four words, and he stole her very breath.

Pirate.

"And I hate that it comes as such a surprise to you," he looked down at her with such open, honest remorse, that she could almost feel the regret he was pouring out. "I've been a coward. A selfish bastard. Something I seem to continually excel in" his voice took on a bitter edge and she still couldn't find any words. "You have surprised me from the moment I met you. The most challenging woman I would ever come to cross paths with. Bloody brilliant...amazing." She remembered hearing those same words from his mouth from what seemed like lifetimes ago.

"I could never claim to have figured you out. You were always besting me. Outsmarting me. Kept me on my toes. I liked that," he chuckled, "we had been through so much together. How was I supposed to not fall for a smart and sassy princess, with a hell of a right hook?" He looked away from her then "How was I not supposed to love the most beautiful, compassionate and strong woman I had ever come across?"

His blue eyes came back to hers, and she could see the vulnerability in them.

Still she said nothing.

"How was I supposed to believe that she could ever feel the same for me? The bastard Captain of the Seven Seas?"

Her eyes never left his. Reading everything they were trying to say.

"I've hurt. Stole. Killed. Done terrible things. I'm a pirate. I'm Hook. And I never deserved having someone like you in my life" He frowned, staring at the blonde strands slipping through his fingers. Watching them intensely. "You're the light Emma." He looked over her face, finally drifting back to her eyes, that had stubbornly refused to leave his "A beautifully blinding light. And I'm dark."

He sighed long and slow.

"I was only ever going to taint you"

And there it was.

And then she knew. It was never about her.

It was about him.

He never felt he was worthy of her love.

And she finally finally knew.

"It's always darkest before the dawn"

It took one beanstalk for Emma and Killian to feel a connection.

And then one betrayal for them to forget.

A simple bean symbolized the end of a partnership.

Another bean symbolized the beginning of a relationship.

A mission to save her son had them join forces.

The battle against an enemy almost forced them apart.

Three centuries should have prevented them ever meeting.

Yet three realms they travelled as they fell in love.

It was moments after she said I love you that she truly believed.

It was moments after he said I love you that he lost faith.

Six months after he left he realised his mistake.

Six months after which she claimed he was too late.

It took four months for Killian to kiss Emma.

But more than six for Emma to call him Killian.

It was a whole year before he received her 'I love you'.

It was seconds after that she received his 'Marry me'.

Less than another year later Charming gave his daughter away.

Less than two years later Snow became a grandmother again.

Nine years went by when Killian overheard his wife tell his daughter to have faith, that she'd find True Love just like her parents some day.

END.

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