Once Upon a Time - Captain Swan Fanfictions

5x10 - Broken Heart

The silk brushing the tips of my fingers sends chills through my body. A cold breath runs down my spine as the darkness and silence lingers in the house that was supposed to represent hope. Home. I think frustratingly to myself, "This was my future, but look at me sitting here. Alone. Broken."

Tick tock, tick tock. The oak clock on the mantle continuously ticks along. Time keeps passing while I just sit here. Darkness seeps into every pore of my body, and I allow it to. Might as well let the physical darkness take over, since it's already consumed every aspect of my life.

So many memories of him come rushing back in a painful wave of emotions. The moment he told me he sold his ship for me. The moment he told me that I never had to worry about losing him because he was a survivor. Ironic now, huh...

He told me he wouldn't let me down. He was jealous of other men. Heck, he was jealous of himself. He took me on the most beautiful first date I have ever been on. He died to save me and my family. He accepted the fact that I wasn't ready to tell him those three letters.

Then I told him I Love You. We broke apart. But he saved me from the darkness. He was my salvation in the evil tearing at every fiber of my soul. He kissed me in a field of pink roses. He told me that he liked breaking down my walls. He told me he would forgive anything I did, because he loved me.

Then he left me.

That first tear finally slips past my dull eyes. Tears have seem to be stubborn. I'm not sure if it's the darkness refusing to show weakness, or if it's the fact I don't want to accept the reality of Killian dark. He told me I was a distraction. He told me I push everyone away because I'm afraid of losing them. When I think about it though, isn't it true? I pushed Henry away because I tried to save myself from the darkness. I pushed Killian away because I was afraid of losing another one. When it seems like I try to help others, bad things happen because I haven't helped myself. But when I help myself, bad things happen to the people I love. It's never a win win situation.

I finally stand, my aching heart sending pulses through my fingertips. The tear slipping past my chin finally falls down to the floor. I stare down at the tiny puddle of my heartbreak staring back at me. The wind outside howls through the trees as the silence inside ensues. However, the silence that seemed like would last an eternity is broken by a creaking at the front door.

Of course, the last thing I want right now is visitors. So, instead of investigating the noise, I echo back, "I don't want company."

Suddenly, a dark figure walks in the arch of the living room. This figure, I know. I know it too well. Perfectly tangled black hair falls over his forehead. Broad shoulders outlined with black leather gleam in the moonlight peeking through the window. The piece of metal, the reminder of his loss, reflects the glow of the night sky, the stars above. The flask in his right hand dangles loose as if it'd been his buddy for the night at the docks.

"Oh but Swan, I thought you were in love with me," his chilling, haunting voice coos in the silence of the still air. He slowly staggers towards me, obviously drunk, and stops two inches away from my face. I can smell the rum on his breath. This smell that I had acquainted with love and happiness now holds a bitter sting when I get waves of it.

Putting the flask in his jacket, he reaches for my hand. All I do is stare at him. How could the man who just told me I was a distraction earlier be completely different only hours later?

"Killian, are you drunk?" The words spilling out of my mouth punch me in the gut. I hate to admit that he's in pain. However, the evidence is glossed in his dull eyes.

He sighs in my face and actually looks at me for the first time in days. His gaze fixes on my lips, finally, as if he hungers for what he's been pushing away since his realization. My mind tells me to pull away, don't satisfy him. He's done nothing but torture you. However, my legs don't agree. I take in the scent of his jacket, the rum laced on his lips. I take in the roughness of his hand and the chill of his hook. As I look back into his sea blue eyes, I can feel the same ache he feels.

Almost instinctively, we lunge towards each other. Desperation takes over love as our lips collide. The softness of his kisses that I used to admire had disappeared, but it was okay. The passion replaced it and told me more than I had gotten out of him in the past few days. It told me the darkness was using him as a puppet. He was portraying a draining act. This kiss was his explanation of his actions, his words, his drunkenness.

His hook wraps around my hips and pulls me in closer towards him. Our lips have remained at a ferocious pace, it almost seems as if we were eating each other's faces. My hands slip into his midnight black hair and twirl into the miniature curls hanging at the back of his neck. Suddenly, his icy fingers slip onto the skin on my hips which causes energy to course through my veins and a gasp to escape my lips for a second. However, he doesn't let my lips leave his as he bends over and takes every essence of me in.

Finally understanding what I want, I transport us upstairs. It's almost as if he can read my mind, because then he unzips my leather jacket and it collides with the floor. The chill in the air just intensifies the moment more. I rip his jacket off his body, which also causes the first three buttons on his shirt to come undone. He picks me up and places me on the empty bed. As I start to undo more of the buttons, he finally pulls away. His eyes glare deeply into my soul and his grip on my hip gets stronger. Has he snapped out of his drunken stupor? Has he returned to the darkness? Is he going to shatter my heart once more just to get a laugh out of it?

However, he brushes a strand of hair away from my temple with his ice cold hook. Then, he silently says, "I love you, Emma Swan. I always will."