Open Wounds | Captain Swan

28. Darkness isn't Always Present At Night

It was already dark outside when the car finally pulled up at the local police station. The moon had already come out to, radiating her white light over the earth as if it was her own child and she was entrusted with protecting it as the stars were the tiny light sources that guided her way through the darkness.

Killian's body may have been in the back of that car, his hands cuffed behind his back and head hanging low, but his mind hadn't left the hospital, not even for a split second. He was constantly thinking about her, well, worrying about her.

With the charges he was facing he could easily be stuck in prison for five years. Even if his lawyer would call Emma out to be a witness, if they judge would be half as unreasonable as the police officers that arrested him he was screwed.

Five years, he went against all the laws of nature when he thought about spending five years without Emma, without their child. He temporarily stopped breathing, or maybe even living in general, he was too concerned about the future to tell.

Every sound that entered his left ear exited his right ear not even a second later. He felt numb, empty, broken, like someone had sucked the life out of him with some high-tech device he didn't understand. Nothing seemed to make sense, except for the fact that there was a possibility he would only see his fiancé again when he was behind bars. That seemed to be perfectly clear.

Even when the policeman forcefully dragged him out of the car, a dreadful fall wind blowing in his face, almost as if powers that were beyond his understanding were mocking with him and judging him for crimes he hadn't committed.

Which was something he began to doubt more and more with every passing second? It's hard to believe you're innocent when everyone else around you is convinced you're guilty. Knowing all the eyes were on him as he was led through the station was so excruciating he began to doubt himself, or more specific his own innocence.

He was slowly falling apart, barely managing to stumble towards the cell clumsily. The process of falling apart was comparable to growing up, you know it's inevitable, everyone goes through it in their life, but no one wants it. And when it does happen, you feel vulnerable, lost, but in the end you're reborn stronger than you ever were. Thousands of happy and sad memories behind you, ready to be relieved in your brain, whether it is in your imagination or dreams doesn't matter. The important thing is that it occurs.

The sound of the key turning inside the lock, unlocking the door echoed through his ears, indistinctly. The door cracked open, a creaking noise resounding through the station. Normally, he would've covered his ears with his hands to prevent any damage from being done, but now he couldn't even hear it properly.

He didn't demur when he was pushed into the cell, just obeying, and before he had truly registered anything the door had been locked and he was lying down on the rather uncomfortable bed.

He closed his eyes almost immediately, trying to determine how this situation was going to expire. But before an outcome could occur to him he was already fast asleep, dreaming about his Swan.

His radiant blue eyes the weak sunlight that peeked through the blinds. A low groan escaping his throat, soon realizing it was the morning after they had made love for the first time ever.

He hoisted himself up with one elbow, his other arm moving to the spot beside him. When he turned his head to where his hand lied, he could vaguely see an imprint she had left. But there was no warmth left between the sheets to warm his hand, meaning she had gotten up quite some time ago.

"Oh, was it that bad?" He asked himself, his voice sleepily as he struggled to fight the urge to fall back into a deep sleep. "Or was it that good?"