I'll always find you

cared for

Summary: Emma is on her period and Hook tries to comfort her.
Word Count: 5,301
Rating: T
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Someone knocks on the door and Emma groans, loathe to leave her cocoon of fuzzy blankets and the heating pad finally settled in the perfect spot on her abdomen. So she nestles further down into the couch cushions and cries, "come on in!" over her shoulder, really hoping that it isn't anyone dangerous.
(Her gun's by her bedside table and if this morning's lack of movement is any indication, her ass would be kicked in a heartbeat, magic or no.)

"Emma?" She hears his voice and then the door gently close behind him and the heavy tread of his boots on the loft's floor. "Are you quite alright, love?"

Killian's kneeling by her side in a moment, blue eyes wide and anxious, and she almost laughs in his face to see such concern.

She's still getting used to this, being pampered and cared for. Mom's offer to come back and make her food during the school's lunch break had been almost more than Emma could handle, her eyes overflowing with tears and her hand furiously waving Mary Margaret out the door with promises not to worry about her.

"I went by the station but your father said you were home," he continues, brushing a bit of hair off of her forehead. "If there is anything I can do for you, medicine I can purchase..."

"Its fine, Killian," she smiles, extracting her arms to pause the television and take his hand in hers. "I'll be okay tomorrow, I'm just-"
She blushes and stumbles a bit because, honestly, how do you explain to your three hundred year old boyfriend that you're home from work because you're on your period and your cramps are killing you and your stomach is bloated and the thought of wearing anything but sweatpants right now sounds akin to dying? "I'm just a little under the weather."

"But you were fine yesterday," he presses, hand squeezing hers. "You don't think this is a magical malady, do you? Inflicted by a villain to take out the Savior in order to destroy the town?"

She does laugh at that one because his paranoia is too precious. "No I don't," she chuckles. Then Emma rolls her eyes so she doesn't have to meet his and her blush grows. "Its just cramps, okay? They usually go away after a day."

"Cramps?" he echoes, and when she finally looks at him there is a deep furrow in his brow.

"Ya know," she grunts, sitting up a bit. "From my period." Emma raises her eyebrows and really hopes she doesn't have to give him a lesson on the reproductive system.

His forehead smooths out and his mouth opens slightly. "Ahhh, your monthly," he exclaims. "Your monthly courses." He presses a soft kiss to her temple and stands, hand and hook on his hip, a businesslike look on his face.
"Then first we should get something warm across your stomach, it will make you feel better. And if you will allow me to make a stop at the grocer I might be able to find the herbs for a most soothing tea."

(This is how he must have looked on board his ship, the Captain giving out orders.)

He starts to make his way to the kitchen and she stops him with a hand at his elbow. "Killian, Killian stop," she laughs, pulling him back and he kneels down. "I've already got something warm on my stomach. And in this world, we use Midol to soothe cramps."

"Hmmm," he grunts, confusion across his face again. "Then what on earth am I to do to make you feel better, love?"

Emma sits up even further and kisses the frown off of his lips, her grin canceling it out until he exhales gently and she pulls away to trace his soft smile with her fingers. There's a tightness in her chest at his need to take care of her and she's a bit speechless.

"How do you even know any of this?" she eventually asks. "Life on the high seas and all that."

His jaw clenches for a moment but his eyes never waver. "Milah," he breathes, a name she's rarely heard him say out loud and she doesn't feel jealously, only curiosity. "We shared quarters for ten years."

Emma nods. She wants to hear more stories, but only when he's willing to share them. "Ice cream," she finally says. "There's chocolate ice cream in the freezer. If you make us two bowls and maybe rub my feet I promise I will feel better."

She falls asleep with her feet in his lap and two empty bowls on the coffee table, Netflix continuing to play even when her eyes grow too heavy to remain open. When she wakes up, her stomach feels better and her heart skips a beat to see Killian passed out on the other side of the couch. She finds the remote and turns the television off, content to watch the softness on his face as he sleeps and she kinda wants him to get a cold or something just so she can take care of him.

As she figured, she feels much better the next day. She's back on her feet and as good as ever. There's work to be done and a sheriff's (or a Savior's) job is never over.

The next month he gives her a small brown paper bag at the station, hands trembling and eyes not on hers. She takes the sack and opens it, the sweet scent of dried tea leaves filling her senses.

"For this week," he murmurs, gaze still on the floor. "In case this world's medicine fails you."
She bursts into tears on the spot and he looks scared to death.

"Don't worry," comes her dad's voice from across the office. "Happens to Snow this time of the month too. It'll pass."

(The mood swings pass but the gratefulness and adoration, oh no, those are there for good.)