#steph writes

You heard a heavy thunk against reverberating metal. To stop anything even worse from happening you rounded the corner to watch Damon crawl over to Elena who was crumpled on the floor.

“What’s going on here?” You said, walking around the corner.

At last you could put a face to the male voice confronting Damon. Judging by the facial similarities to Jo, you suspected this to be the new bane of Damon’s existence called Kai. You furrowed your brows at seeing him wear a gray Mystic Falls shirt.

He turned his body until his eyes zeroed in on you. With a tilt of his head, he asked, “Oh, what do we have here?”

Glowering at the deflection, you twisted your fingers at your side.

Ignoring the bloody mayhem he left behind, Kai pointed behind him as he sauntered closer. “Oh, them? Don’t mind them. We’re just having a bit of fun.” He smirked.

“What I’m curious about is your-” His voice deepened until it fell silent. Kai stopped in his tracks. “Woah-” His fingers reached for his nose until droplets of blood touched his fingertips.

Shivers went down your spine at the intense stare shooting in your direction.

His voice turned raspy. “Would you look at that?” With a smirk, he lifted his arm. “Motus.”

A grunt left your lips at feeling yourself being dragged forward by the feet. You swung your arms around until a golden energy wave ruptured through the air. With the back of his head, he elevated against the ceiling before he fell down.

Kai’s groan turned into delighted chuckles. Your fingers tensed at having to go another round. Gray eyes lazily met your figure with a humming sound.

“Stay down.” Your arm rose to send another aneurysm his way, letting a golden shimmer linger around your hand in warning.

If it was possible his eyes glinted even more with mischief. Kai shook his head. “But this is so much more fun.”

An arrow shot through his shoulder, making him fall to his knees before Alaric ran over to inject him with something.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Those were the last words he heard before his mind drifted off.

You absolutely hated how you were the go-to girl for everything. Including fulfilling the duties of a babysitter.

“Trust me, this guy is harmless like this.” Damon laid his hands on your arms. “By now, he’s probably as dangerous as a baby. A siphoner baby, but still. So, no touchy.” Wagging a finger in reprimand, he pouted his lips at the sacrifice you were offering for not touching a siphoning serial killer.

You were still not convinced when you rolled your eyes. “Oh no, what will I do with myself? Sounds like a fun time: watch the catatonic witch? Check.”

“Try not to kill him? I know it’s hard.”

You smiled serenely at the thought. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Besides, the last time you two crazy kids met, he was already half obsessed with you.”

With a dry voice, you retorted, “Thanks. That does make me feel better.”

“It won’t take long. If it bothers you that much, just-” Damon wiggled his fingers to imitate your powers. “hit him with your sleepy powers.”

You laughed mockingly before you instantly sobered. “If you take one second longer, I’m going to make him obsessed with you instead. And I won’t even have to touch him.”

Realizing you meant business, he suppressed an unsettled shiver. “Jesus, fine. I won’t take long.”

You threw your head back, exhaling heavily. You eyed Tyler’s knocked-out body lying on the ground next to Kai’s bedside. “Well, that worked out perfectly.”

With a sigh, you dialed Damon’s number, muttering under your breath, “What a shit show.”

“I’m already on my way back. Loosen those empath fingers already. Don’t tell me you already tried to kill him.”

“Not exactly. But Tyler tried … something.”

Silence lingered on the other end. “What happened?”

“Tried to put him off his Pentobarbital. The Gemini dad’s in town. Tyler wanted to grab him as a plan B, in case he’d say no to the blonde twins. I thought I’d let you deal with this unconscious problem. The less murderous version at least.”

Even after reiterating everything that happened, it still felt strange that this was your life now.

Damon exhaled a tired groan. “What is it with Romeo thinking he can just take the psycho freak magic siphon and just waltz out of there? Wait. Huh…”

You closed your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “Oh no, I don’t like when you get ideas.”

“Y/N, pull a Romeo. Wake him up. Keep him alive until I get there.”

Still not convinced, warily eyeing the IV drip and the sleeping siphoner. “You know, there’s still time to not do this.”

“This is the only way. I know what I’m doing.”

You sarcastically grumbled under your breath, “Boy, do you ever.”

Hanging up the phone, you succumbed to your fate when you leaned over to unplug the sedative. “I’m going to regret this.”

You intensely stared at Kai’s sleeping form from the chair you were sitting on. Feeling impatience swelling inside you, your fingers lifted in the air, clenching them into a twisting motion. Your features grimaced in concentration until only warmth lingered. Satisfaction bloomed when Kai’s chest hummed with golden energy.

Eyelids twitching, Kai groaned with a gasp, touching his chest.

“About time, sleeping beauty.”

Kai groggily opened his eyes before he searched for the source of the voice. “Is this real?”

You bit your lip, flicking your finger at him until the headache hit him full force.

The groan leaving Kai’s lips was deliciously gratifying to your ears. “God!” It was short-lived though when he chuckled, sending you a slow, speculative gaze. “You really are an empath.” He stroked his chest where the golden energy had hit. His eyes lit up with a vigorous curiosity. “Which kind?”

Kai shook his head when you remained silent instead. “Keep your secrets. I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Not if you’re dead.”

He pouted. “Ouch, so hostile already. And we don’t even know each other.” With a smirk stretching on his lips, he nestled himself deeper into the pillow and bestowed you with a smoldering gaze.

“I’m Kai. What’s your name, sunshine?” At the prolonged silence his gaze darkened when he narrowed his eyes. “You know, I could just make you tell me.” He twisted his fingers, pointing towards you.

Eyeing his hand, you stood up from your seat. You crossed your arms. “Nope, no more Traveler magic for you.”

Kai’s eyes caught Tyler lying on the floor next to him. “You shouldn’t have. Should I feel touched that you were the one watching over me?”

“It’s usually Damon or Alaric staring daggers at you.”

“I hope not. I mean, Damon’s such an incessant talker. How can you stand the guy?”

Ever the dramatic one, Damon barged in. “I was just about to ask the same question.” He turned towards you, arching an eyebrow. “How can you stand the guy?”

Kai groaned. “Great.” He smirked mirthlessly. “I was just enjoying myself but then I heard this droning voice in my ear.”

Damon widened his eyes. “News flash: it’s not me, it’s you.”

“Oh my God, there’s two.” You placed your fingers against your temple, feeling a headache coming on.

“What do you want? I’ve got places to see, a sister to merge.”

“That’s going to have to wait for a bit.”

Kai sat up in bed. Mockingly, he laughed once. “You really think I’m gonna trust you?”

“No. And we’re not gonna trust you. I just happen to need a magic siphon and you’re the only game in town.”

With a spring in his step, he jumped over Tyler until Kai was inches from Damon. “Hi. Let’s discuss my fee.”

You felt Damon’s sidelong glance on the side of your face. “Don’t look at me like that. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t life and death. Literally.”

You shook your head. “Everything’s life and death in this town.” With a sigh, you continued, “I’m going to hold down the fort until Tyler wakes up. At least, until he can venture on being Liv’s knight in shining armor.”

“You’re a good egg, Y/N.” Damon patted the side of your head.

You grimaced, not knowing what to make of the amicable touch. “Whatever.”

Feeling Kai’s inquisitive gaze upon you, you watched him in return. He was basically vibrating with delight, like he was close to jumping in the air.

“You still haven’t asked me what I want in return.” Kai tilted his head.

“We don’t have time for negotiations.” Damon grumbled next to you. “You are in no position to-”

“As I keep hearing … time is a luxury you don’t have. I’m offering you my services—the kind of which is quite rare if I recall correctly—you think I’m providing those out of the goodness of my heart?” He chuckled darkly, tapping lightly against his chest where his heart laid. Supposedly.

“We both know people like us aren’t capable of that,” he added.

Damon clenched his jaw, stepping towards him with a threatening air. “Little weasel-”

Kai tapped his ear. “Uh uh uh, less insults, more groveling.”

“What do you want?” He hissed.

Kai stroked his jaw in thought. “I’m feeling quite peckish.”

Sensing the siphoning hunger inside Kai thrum with energy, you inwardly sighed at his antics.

“What?”

“He wants a taste,” you elaborated.

Kai smirked. “That’s not how I would’ve phrased it, but if you’re offering.” He wiggled his eyebrows indecently. “I’ll be honest, I’ve been curious. Never had an empath before. And I’m not hungry for Vampire. Sorry, not sorry.”

Damon groaned, at last understanding Kai’s insane tangents. “Gotta be kidding me.”

“Time’s a wastin’. Looks like you got a choice to make.”

“A siphon leech who just lost all his Traveler magic—sounds like someone with a ton of self control to stop,” Damon interjected.

Kai’s eyes settled on you. “Don’t worry, I would know when to stop and trust me, I know all about self control.”

With a disgusted face, he rolled his eyes. “Ugh, someone kill me.” Damon started to face you, turning serious. “You know, I wouldn’t ask this of you if this wasn’t serious.”

You gave him a blank stare. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find a way for you to make it up to me.” You narrowed your eyes, imagining the siphoning. “Or not.” Turning back towards Kai, you gingerly offered your arm.

Kai shook his arms like he was psyching himself up. “Oh my, is that what nervous feels like? I must be pretty hungry, huh?” He let his hand linger in the air for a second before brusquely keeping your wrist in a tight grip.

A gasp left your lips. Not feeling used to the intimate touch after years of people avoiding it in fear of activating your empathy and have you read their innermost secrets. Instantly, the tingling sensation of your essence leaving your body remained.

He hissed through gritted teeth, watching in fascination at the glowing surface area on your skin. “Oh, that’s the stuff. Would you look at that? Who knew I needed empath power all my life?”

His face lit up even more at the struggle you were facing. “I bet you’re thinking-” His face leaned towards you until it was inches from yours, not moving his hypnotizing gaze away from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. Kai pouted. “If only he had some Traveler power left.” His grip tightened and if possible he siphoned even harder.

You clenched your hands into fists, grunting at the aching sensation.

His voice twisted into something spiteful. “Maybe you guys shouldn’t have drained me like you did.” Kai observed your reaction with intent eyes, silently reading your expression.

“Easy on the control, Parker,” you could hear Damon say faintly behind you.

With a thunderous glare, you grunted, “Let go, Kai.”

“Come on, make me,” he said, baiting you to rise to the challenge.

Not wasting another second, you placed your hand around his throat. Not enough to choke him in return, merely as a threat that you weren’t afraid to use force if necessary.

Kai, the pervert, closed his eyes and threw his head back to further reveal his neck. “Oh, that’s nice. Give me more of that.”

You pressed harder with more glowing energy.

“Okay, that’s enough with the foreplay. Cut it out!” Damon kept the two of you apart, lightly shoving Kai away. He gazed into your eyes, holding onto your shoulders. “Are we good?”

You intensely stared at Kai, not daring to avoid his eye. “No, we’re not. Not even close.” There must be something wrong with your magic. It swirled in your blood, humming with your heartbeat, like it needed more. To be close again, to feel more of that siphoning spark.

Kai stretched his arms over his head with new vigor. “Did it feel as good for you as it did for me?” With arching eyebrows, he mockingly frowned. “No? Just me? Oh well…”

Damon exhaled heavily, clapping his hands. “Chop chop. Do I look like I want to be bored by your endless yapping?”

Kai started to follow. His gray eyes were glinting. He never seemed to have heard of keeping his distance when he moved around you, walking backwards.

“Until our next encounter, Y/N.” Kai smirked. “Told you I’d find out,” he exhaled with a tranquil air, throwing his head back. “Uh, I feel so refreshed.”

Damon pushed him towards the door for good measure, trying to hurry him up.

There was still no haste in his step. “Thanks for that, my sweet little witch.”

The slight ache in her chest wasn’t his fault. She shouldn’t have tried opening up to someone she barely knew. Least of all someone who was about to be Lorroakan’s apprentice. Getting close to him was stupid. It was practically asking Rolan to choose between a man he admired and someone who inadvertently caused some of the worst moments of his life.

Asking him to pick was unfair. Not that Rolan had any idea of her history with Lorroakan. With any luck, he never would. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to rehash the past.

The pouch signaled that their relationship was transactional. She provided him a service. Not that having him risk his life in a building full of deranged cultists was her idea of a service, but she did get his siblings back. He chose to compensate her accordingly.

However, she could hardly let him give her gold that he had far more need of. It wouldn’t have been right to force him into an uncomfortable position on his remaining journey.

So she went back to the inn. Sure enough, the three siblings were congregated near the bar, chatting away. It was the most relaxed she had ever seen Rolan.

Good, that meant he wouldn’t be expecting her.

“There’s the woman of the hour!” Lia exclaimed, raising a mug in Cressida’s direction, “Still can’t believe you let this idiot tag along with you.”

Cressida shrugged, standing between Lia and Rolan, “Strength in numbers, right?”

“I just didn’t think he would be a strong number,” Lia replied with a teasing grin, “Thanks for keeping him safe.”

Cal nodded in agreement, “We really can’t thank you enough, Cressida.”

Lia looked at Rolan and then to Cressida. As though trying to speak to him with her mind.

“Well? Don’t you have something to say?” she asked, still eyeing between them.

Cressida used this moment of everyone being focused on talking to slide the pouch back into the pockets of Rolan’s robes. Right in the nick of time as he looked from Lia to her and let out a slight laugh.

“I thanked you once already, don’t be greedy.”

Despite the impossible to place hurt, she felt her face burn at his words, “I… I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Cressida made her way back to her room on the second floor of the inn with little fanfare after that. It was a small room, but it was her own and it meant she could stay up as late as she wished without any of the others being bothered by whatever candlelight she needed.

She occupied herself with some plum fizz and a journal of Balthazar’s to prepare for what they would encounter at the mausoleum. With the hope that somewhere in all of this was the secret to killing an immortal man. For all the times she rolled her eyes and claimed anyone could be killed, she had her reservations and doubts.

The sounds of people celebrating in the common area dwindled and Cressida was unsure of how long she stayed up reading. A part of her knew she should get some rest, but she also kept insisting that she just needed to get through one more page. All the way until a knock snapped her out of her focus.

Who could have been knocking on her door at this hour was beyond her. If she had to guess, it was likely Shadowheart or Astarion wanting to gossip about something they learned at the party.

“It’s open,” she said, barely looking up from her reading.

A loud creak sounded as the door swung open and caused her to jump. Rolan all but stormed into the room, shutting the door behind him. A sight that she wouldn’t have minded were it not for the anger plain on his face.

“What in the hells is your problem?!” he exclaimed, already starting to pace her room with his tail flicking back and forth behind him.

She closed the book, “Excuse me? You’re the one who barged into my room.”

“I take the time to find out why you’re keeping to yourself, I apologize to you for being an ass, which I’ll still admit to. And then I attempt to repay you with everything I have and you don’t even bother to explain why you won’t take the money, you just slip it back into my pockets when I’m not looking!” he huffed, glaring at her, “Nothing I try to do is good enough for you, and I deserve to know why.”

Cressida blinked in surprise, standing up, “Hold on, you’re trying to say I’m in the wrong here?”

“Yes! Because you are!”

“Let me get this straight. You approach me, and when I open up to you about how I’m used to people expecting the worst from me or only wanting me for the things I can do for them, you proceed to pay me like a common fucking sellsword. Never mind the fact that you helped with the breakout! You foolishly give me apparently a good chunk of your money which I don’t even need. And you’re upset that I made sure you didn’t wind up broke on your way to the city?” she crossed her arms, stepping closer to him, “Look, if you want to give me some gold to make yourself feel better or feel like we’re even, that’s your prerogative. But I’m not under any obligation to take it.”

“Do you think I’m giving you money to help myself feel better?!” the tiefling rolled his eyes, “Give me a fucking break, you were talking about how everyone takes from you with nothing in return! How do you expect me to respond?!”

Cressida threw her hands in the air, “I don’t know! I thought maybe you would say or do something that would… it doesn’t matter. Clearly you want to keep our relationship transactional and that’s fine. It’s on me for misunderstanding.”

“I wasn’t keeping anything transactional, I was apologizing. I’ve never seen this as transactional,” he insisted.

She met his gaze which faltered to his lips for a moment, “How do you see it, then?”

When and how they got this close was beyond her. And it was impossible to think straight with his golden eyes practically burning into her. Never mind the tail that was now wrapped around her thigh. Cressida wasn’t quite sure who leaned in first, but she felt Rolan’s lips on hers in a heated kiss she thought she had to be imagining. It was so much like what she imagined. But there was no mistaking the warmth of his arms wrapping around her or the faint taste of wine on his lips. It took every ounce of self-control to not melt into him. Despite her own want, she pulled back, pushing against his chest.

“Rolan, I- I shouldn’t…” she stammered, attempting to catch her breath, “We… shouldn’t.”

He placed a hand on her hip, “Why not?”

“I- um… I could die. Soon, really soon,” she managed, her mouth dry as she tried to ignore her own desire, “Or become a mind flayer. And… and there’s your apprenticeship. You need to focus on that, right? It’s better if we don’t…”

“All the more reason, no? While there’s still time. After all, I clearly need to find a different way to make it up to you,” He pulled her in closer and used his other hand to tilt her chin up so she was looking at him, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this.”

Her mind was clouded from the way he looked at her alone. No amount of the logical part of her brain screaming that this wouldn’t end well was a match for the burning between her legs.

“Of course I want you,” she admitted, her hands on his shoulders, “But you should go.”

“Why?”

“Because…” she trailed off, trying to find her words, “Oh, fuck it.”

Rolan let her pull him down by his collar far too easily. His lips melded against hers in a slower kiss that still held just as much passion as the first. Her hands found the back of his neck and went to his hair, aiming to mess up the carefully placed hairstyle he always kept it in.

Once she managed that, she started fumbling with the back of the mantle he always kept on. Their lips only parted to discard that and his robes in a swift blur which still left him in a shirt and trousers under that. He placed a hand to the small of her back and pulled her so she was flush against him. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her as his hands went down further to cup her ass.

He let out a breath that sounded close to a laugh against her lips, “I take it you want me to stay.”

“No shit,” she panted, “I, um… I should warn you, though, it’s um… been a while since I was with anyone.”

Rolan let out a breath of relief, “That’s all?”

“Well, yes, but… I mean, it’s been years, I-” he cut her off with a soft kiss.

“You’re cute when you worry,” he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, “If it’s any consolation, it’s been a while for me as well. And I highly doubt my studies with Lorroakan will-”

“Please don’t talk about your apprenticeship while I’m thinking about you fucking me.”

“Right, of course. Where were we again?”

With his lips on hers once again, she felt him lift her as though she were nothing, her legs straddling him. A surprised gasp left her against his mouth. Rolan smirked against her mouth in reply as he set her on the desk she had been working at.

She wrapped her legs around him and he started to leave her mouth, traveling to kiss down her neck. A high-pitched whimper left her and she tilted her neck, giving him better access as he licked and sucked at her skin. She shuddered and her hips bucked against him while his hands wandered over the curves of her body, one pausing to knead at her breast.

Rolan let out a low chuckle and hummed into her neck, “Who’d have thought you’d be so sensitive. Is this what you want?”

“Fuck, yes,” she moaned as he found a sensitive spot she had long since forgotten about.

He pulled back to get a better look at her and his golden eyes glowed in the dim candlelight of the room. A part of her expected him to come back to his senses and leave, but his hand cupped her face and stroked her cheek.

“As much as I like exploring your neck, I’d quite like to find out what sounds you make when I explore elsewhere,” he said, looking her up and down so slowly that he was all but undressing her with his eyes.

“Oh?” her face heated up as she put together what he was saying, “Oh!”

“You have had sex before, right?”

“Yes!” she glared at him, “I just… haven’t had anyone go down on me before.”

Rolan pulled back, “You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’ve had some abysmal partners, then.”

She let out a slight laugh, “That’s one way to put it.”

“It seems I have my work cut out for me,” he replied with a gleam in his eyes.

Rolan pulled her into a lingering kiss before starting to undo the laces of her pants while she went to undo her shirt. Their hands fumbled over each other. Though, he paused at the sight of the dressings on her shoulder and her torso.

“Zurgan, don’t these still hurt?”

She shrugged, “Hardly, I’ve had a potion and Shadowheart knows what she’s doing.”

“But still, surely, the wounds are lingering or you wouldn’t have them covered,” he reached out a tentative hand on the shoulder wound, hovering over the dressings, “You should still be resting.”

“If I wanted you to use your mouth to chastise me, I would’ve said so,” she remarked, “Besides, if you do it right, it’s technically resting, no?”

“Very well, but I can’t possibly keep you in this position,” he picked her up once more and took the few steps over before laying her on the bed with such care Cressida was almost certain she was dreaming, “Promise you’ll let me know if it hurts?”

“I promise.”

He started kissing down her neck once more, going lower to her collarbone. The surprise of it got a gasp from her and she could feel Rolan smirking into her skin. He knew exactly what he was doing and as much as Cressida wanted to call him on it, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to stop as he nipped at her skin, trailing down to her breasts. She slid the last of her shirt off, leaving her with only her heart-shaped necklace remaining. He then took one of her breasts in his hand before taking it in his mouth, their eyes meeting for a moment. His other hand teased her other breast, playing with the nipple until it was hardened before he switched to use his mouth on that one.

Once he was done, he continued to trail kisses down her stomach. She couldn’t help the sounds that left her as he got ever closer to where she needed him the most. Though, Rolan paused once more as he approached the bandage from where the sword hit her. This wasn’t the first time someone worried about her, but it was the first time someone showed it so plainly. To the point she knew she had to reassure him.

Cressida reached down, tilting Rolan’s head up to look at her, “It really doesn’t hurt, Rolan. I promise. It didn’t hurt too badly in the first place. This is just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’ve had far worse,” she replied.

He rolled his eyes, “What could that possibly be?”

“Headaches, mostly. Ones so awful I can barely see or get out of bed for days… I was also bitten by a whale.”

“How in the hells were you bitten by-” he shook his head, “You’re distracting me.”

“You asked.”

He scoffed, “It was rhetorical.”

“You were curious.”

“I can assure you I was not.”

“If you’re not curious, can you focus?”

Instead of more words, he nipped at her hipbone which elicited a squeal from her.

“Rolan, I-”

“I thought you wanted me to focus,” he looked up at her, his eyes glowing with mischief and lust in the dim light, “Now, hush, you. Before you derail this night further by telling me you rode a dragon once.”

“Well, I-” he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh which made her let out a whine.

He laughed, “That’s more like it.”

Rolan cupped her still clothed heat, dipping a finger under the flimsy fabric, “I haven’t even touched you properly and you’re soaking.”

She moved to shift out of her underwear, trying to grind her cunt into his face and he smirked, “Someone’s eager.”

“Someone’s teasing.”

“Oh, come off it, you’re clearly enjoying this,” he pressed another kiss to her hip before helping her out of her underwear, “I think you like having someone in charge. Not having to craft every second of everything you do.”

He let the fabric fall to the ground with the rest of her discarded clothes, “And it would be a travesty to not give you such a well-earned break.”

Before she could point out that he was taking his sweet time, he buried his head between her legs and lapped at her folds. His nose brushed against her clit and she bucked into his face, desperate for the friction she had been desperately needing. His ministrations left her whimpering and unable to think. She needed something to hold on to, but the sheets offered her little support in that regard. She gripped his horns, moaning as his tongue continued exploring her cunt.

“Fuck, yes,” she moaned, “Need more of you.”

He looked up at her, his eyes darkened with lust, “You really are greedy, you know. You’re lucky I like that.”

For a moment, she thought he was ignoring her. Before she noticed the spade-shaped tip of his tail reaching between her legs. Cressida’s eyes widened in surprise and anticipation as his tail approached her cunt. She shivered as his tail teased at her entrance before slowly going inside her.

A moan left her as the end of his tail went further inside of her. She gripped his horns tighter, reaching the base. He moaned against her cunt and started moving his tail in and out. As his movements continued, she felt the heat building up in her stomach start to reach a blissfully unbearable state.

“Rolan, I- fuck!”

“You can let go, I’ve got you,” he said, continuing his pace.

The tight coil within her snapped in her and her body shook through the waves of release, her back arching uncontrollably. She felt wind and sparks of her own magic course over her body as she came undone, giving away just how much she savored each moment. Her breathing was heavy as she came down from the release. How she had any amount of magic within her to do that was beyond her. Then her eyes widened.

“Shit, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she asked, sitting up.

Rolan moved to face her, “No, it tickled at most. I thought you said you’d done this before.”

“I have.”

“And you expect me to believe you’ve never come before?”

Cressida let out a frustrated groan, “No, I have! It’s just…”

“You’ve never come so hard before?”

“You’re not letting me finish!”

“I believe I just did.”

Cressida rolled her eyes, “I meant that the storm magic is new for me.”

He raised a brow, “Really? You know what, no. I’m not letting you distract me.”

“Wouldn’t have been distracting if you weren’t interrupting me.”

Rolan shook his head, “Whatever you say. But I was thinking of laying you on this bed and fucking you until you make it rain.”

“I- okay, yeah,” she replied, “You don’t want me to, um, return the favor?”

“You’re supposed to be resting, so no.”

Cressida huffed, “Okay, fine. Whatever makes you happy.”

“You say that like being inside of you isn’t the best idea I’ve had all night.”

Cressida shook her head, smiling despite herself, “I think it’s up there.”

Rolan pulled her into another deep, slow kiss before letting his forehead rest against hers, “Then quit distracting me.”

“Bold words for someone who’s on top of me,” she replied, toying with the bottom of his shirt, “And is far too clothed. I think you’re the distraction.”

“Oh, if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask, darling.”

“I’m asking.”

Rolan smirked at that, rewarding her words by helping her pull his shirt off and tossing it to the floor in a whirlwind of the remains of his clothes. She took a moment to look at him properly. His face clearly flushed a deeper red from everything they had already done. She stared almost transfixed by the ridges on his chest and his torso. A pattern she couldn’t help noticing on the rest of his body.

“If you don’t close your jaw, you’ll catch flies,” he remarked, “I must be your first tiefling.”

Her face heated up at that, “It’s that obvious?”

“Yes, but it’s cute,” he cupped her face.

She rolled her eyes, “Hardly.”

“You’re allowed to be wrong,” he kissed her cheek before taking one of her hands with his free one, “Here, touch me. You’re obviously curious.”

There was a tone in his voice that indicated he was not going to argue it further. So she gently traced over the ridges of his chest with her fingers.

Rolan leaned into her touch, letting out a soft, contented hum. Cressida pulled him into a soft, tender kiss that was perhaps too gentle for what this was supposed to be. But she took that moment to turn him over so she was straddling him. She started tracing over his ridges with her fingers and kissing down his neck.

He groaned as her lips went lower to his collarbone and then to the ridges of his chest and her hand went to stroke his hardened length. Had she not shifted in a way that caused her to wince at her bindings being tugged, she was certain Rolan wouldn’t have stopped her. However, she did and he paused.

“You’re supposed to be resting, no?”

“I was, sort of. Not like you were complaining.”

“I wasn’t, considering you were seducing me,” he gently turned her so she was on her back once more, “Quite well, I might add. When you’re not recovering from saving my family, I might just let you have your way with me.”

Rolan gave his length a few pumps before lining himself with her entrance. Then Cressida felt him slowly stretch her as he took time for her to adjust to his ridged length and let out a low moan.

“Gods, you’re so tight,” he groaned as all of his cock entered her before starting a slow thrust.

She wrapped her legs around him, her hips bucking up to meet his thrusts as he fucked her. Both of them moaned into each other’s mouths and her hands ran down his back as she started to feel another burning coil building inside of her as his thrusts sped up the slightest bit.

“Fuck, Rolan, I- I’m close.”

He grinned against her mouth, “Good, let go with me.”

Her walls clenched around his cock as his thrusts stuttered as he released inside of her. A light mist and a cool breeze surrounded them both from her powers as Cressida came down from hers. Both of them panting in the wake of their releases.

Rolan pulled out of her and rolled over so he was laying next to her. He prestidigitated the mess and pulled her close to himself.

“Does that make up for our misunderstanding?” he asked, holding her hand and kissing her knuckles.

Cressida let out a slight laugh, her heart feeling oddly light for the first time in far too long, “And then some. You were…”

As she tried to find the right words, she noticed Rolan’s brow furrow as he looked at her arm. He pulled her arm closer.

“Is that… is that Infernal?” he asked and she tugged her arm back.

“Something like that…” she frowned, her eyes gazing at the scars for a moment, “It’s from a long time ago.”

He shook his head, “Of course, I shouldn’t have pried… I can take my leave, if you’d like.”

That was the easier option. Leave it there and keep things simple. And yet… after spending so much time alone….

“No,” she turned over to meet his gaze, “Stay.”

So he did.

The last two words dropped like a stone between them and Killian jerked back. His face was the same as it had been when she’d last seen him alive. It was no longer the swollen mess of throbbing bruises Hades had left it in, when he’d shown Emma her lover’s broken body that was being torn and burnt and flayed apart until she had screamed to make it stop. Killian’s hand, the fingers still intact and no longer snapped and broken, cupped her face. He was trembling. Or maybe that was her. It was hard to tell at this point.

“Emma,” her name came out as a whisper. “Emma, where are we?”

She smiled as something huge and terrifying in her chest threatened to burst open.

“Somewhere... Somewhere in my mind. I think? Maybe,” she glanced around again, trying to focus. “A memory. He kept saying something about memories. Our memories.”

“Love, you aren’t making any sense.”

She laughed and it sounded like a watery hiccup. “Hades. Hades and I made a deal.”

The hand on her face tensed as she watched his expression grow brittle. “Emma-” his throat bobbed. “Emma. What kind of deal? What did you promise him?”

She held up her right hand, her index finger raised. A small droplet of blood welled up in the sensitive pad of flesh at the tip where she had pricked it only moments earlier.

“Sleeping curse,” she tried to keep her voice calm as she risked another glance at him. His face was ghost white, completely drained of colour. “I think he thought he was being funny. Something about “the old Charming family tradition.””

Killian’s head was shaking, his eyes darting away from her as he scanned the edges of the tree line behind them, looking for a way out. “We have to wake you up. Emma you don’t understand, Hades he-”

She watched his gaze go unfocused, the nerve in his jaw popping.

“Hey,” she said quickly, her hand curling around his neck, pulling him back to her. “He can’t get you, not here. Not unless he feels like breaking our deal.”

His eyes were still nervy, and she could feel his pulse jumping beneath her palm, but he focused on her again. God she had missed him. Missed the way he smelled, the way his scruffed jaw felt when she held it. It suddenly seemed so hysterically unfair that they’d only had a few months together. They deserved a lifetime. 

“This deal,” he rasped after a moment. “Tell me exactly what he asked of you.”

“He wanted…” she trailed off, trying to remember what he had said. “He said he wanted to test us. To see if what we shared was true love or not. That we needed to really see every part of each other before we made our decision.”

Killian was holding very, very still, his expression unreadable. “And for us to do this test, you needed to be cursed, is that right? Am I cursed as well? Is that how I’m standing here with you?” His voice sounded calm, almost reasonable, as if they were discussing the rules to a complicated board game. But Emma could still feel his panic, could see it starting to edge into the corners of his eyes, turning them glassy. Another one of her huge, catastrophically bad decisions alright. 

“No. No you aren’t under a sleeping curse,” she tried to make her voice comforting, but doubted it had much effect. “He said that souls without a living body don’t need curses to be moved to the dream realm, as long as they’re tethered to someone alive they just sort of- “hitch a ride,” or something.”

A smile started to spread across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “So I’m tethered to you then?”

“Seems that way,” she said, her heart feeling like a dead weight in her chest. “I’m not exactly sure about the next parts, he was talking about memory magic, about old wounds needing to be opened up. He said the dream realm made the magic more…” she waved her hand. “Potent or something. Made it easier to find old memories.”

Killian’s hand dropped to her shoulder, his hook resting against her hip. “Why does he want us to explore old memories? Which memories? What does he gain from that?”

“I have no idea, I’m pretty sure he was just talking to hear himself speak at some point.”

“I don’t like this. Hades wouldn’t make a deal unless it was to punish or to trap you here. Emma, please,” his tone was growing frantic and it was making her own nerves start to fray. “Try and remember exactly what he said. Every word. If he’s trapped you here-”

“I don’t remember all the specifics! I was a little distracted watching you get tortured. Hades didn’t exactly have my undivided attention.”

Killian’s eyes shuttered and Emma could feel the slight tremor in his hand as it fell from her shoulder. She wished she hadn’t mentioned the torture. The second she had, she’d seen his face go blank. When this was over, she would kill Hades. She wasn’t sure how exactly, but she would get creative. Somehow she would figure out a way to make the god of death hurt in the same way he had made Killian hurt. 

“Look,” she said, her voice thick. “All you need to know is that he can’t hurt us. I made him swear it. He can’t touch you here, and he can’t kill me. Everything that happens now is up to us.”

He looked up, staring at something far away from them, like he was remembering something he’d rather forget. “And if we fail? What then? Does he get both of us to torture for eternity?”

“We won’t fail,” she told him. They wouldn’t. She couldn’t let that happen. Even if it killed her, she would never let Hades touch Killian Jones again. “I got down here didn’t I? And I found you. The hard part’s already done.”

He huffed out a laugh that sounded wrong to her ears. “Your confidence is admirable, Swan. But you don’t know what Hades is capable of. What he does to you once he has you.”

She could feel him slipping from her, could feel the despair coming off him in waves, and it killed her. “There’s a fail safe,” she told him quickly. “I can call off the deal at any time.” 

He jerked his attention back to her, suddenly alert. 

“But Killian, if I call it off, if I choose to end this, you go right back where I found you. Back to Hades,” she said, a world of meaning in her words. 

“But you’ll be safe?”

She looked at him. She should tell him. Tell him the entire truth. Tell him exactly what she had promised to keep him safe, to bring him back home. What she had signed away. But if she told him, if he knew everything, he would never agree to it. He would refuse and send her back and all this would be for nothing. He would go back to the endless, screaming pain that Hades had cleaved into him until there was nothing of him left. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll be fine. But you won’t. Please Killian. Please just let us try this first. We have to.”

He blew a breath out of his nose, looking down when she grabbed his hand in both of hers and squeezed. “Alright,” he said. “Alright, we'll try.”

She grinned as she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him, holding him. His hand moved up to her hair, cradling her head, his forehead coming to rest against hers. 

“So. How exactly does this trial work? What do we have to do?”

There was a quick burst of magic to the left of them, and a door twisted into existence a few feet away. The carved wood groaned slightly as it seemed to sway towards them, rocking on its frame, before coming to a stop. They both stared at it. 

“Well. Guess that answers that,” she said.

“Indeed,” he sighed, turning back to look at her. She saw a question, huge and all consuming in his stare that went unasked. Right, this was her deal. Her curse. He would follow her lead. Like he always did. Whatever happened, no matter how much it took from her, she would do whatever it took to make sure he got out of this. 

“C’mon,” she nodded towards the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

He grimaced as they walked towards it, reaching down to grip the brass handle and opening it for her. “Any idea what’s awaiting us on the other side?”

She squeezed his hand, raising her brows. “Nope.” 

They walked through. And the ground beneath their feet vanished.

***

She was falling. Her hair was whipping around her head while the wind rushed up and made her eyes water. Images and noise strobed past like flickering television screens as she plummeted down towards a huge, white nothingness. If she focused she thought she could make out faces, blurred and half formed, but they streaked past her, faster than her eyes could follow. She tried to reach out, tried to find something to grab a hold of, something to slow her fall, but it was like falling through light and sound and a great vast emptiness eager to swallow her whole.

Was this it? Was this what Hades had planned all along? No harm to her physical body sure, but trapping them in some fucked liminal space for eternity? Well. That was a different story.

She tried to look up, or whatever passed for up in this space and suddenly felt something grab her arm. Killian, his grip tight on her, was falling beside her. His mouth was open, mouthing something she couldn’t hear over the roar of noise and wind and her own frantic heartbeat. She tried to reach for him, her fingers outstretched-

When everything slammed to a sudden stop.

Her mind lurched, feeling like the contents of a car with its brakes hit too hard. The tunnel of noise, whatever it had been, was gone, and a blindingly blue sky stretched out in front of her. She tried to blink and turn her head, but her body was locked in place, no longer listening to her.

Only…only it wasn’t her body. 

She heard someone call for her, but it wasn’t her name she heard, it was Killian’s. She twisted and when her mouth opened it wasn’t her voice that boomed forth, but a man’s, low and accented, and oh-so familiar to her. 

She’d dealt with memory magic before, had stayed up long, magic-drunk nights as the dark one weaving dream catchers together in order to snare memories. She’d been expecting something closer to that, where memories played like snippets of old tv reruns. This was something completely different. She wasn’t just watching Killian's memories, she was living them. In his head.

“What news do you bring me then?” he called.

He sounded happy, and Emma could feel it then, he was excited about something. Somehow, inside his head, she could feel thoughts, could almost reach out and touch them.

He stood on the top deck, near the massive helm. Below him, near the rigging of the sails, a woman with dark hair and seafoam eyes grinned at him. Even before Emma felt the sudden rush of love and recognition, she knew exactly who she was looking at. Milah. 

“No news that can safely be shared among mixed company, captain ,” Milah called with a wink. She had Henry’s smile, Emma realized distantly.

The crew around Milah laughed uproariously, and her wide grin was a twin to the one stretching across Killian’s as he swung round the deck to go meet her.

Just as Emma was greedily drinking in the image of the image of the woman who had her son’s grin and Killian's heart, the world suddenly melted and shifted around her. It was as if the memory smeared, all the unimportant bits forgotten and discarded. She moved through short, foggy glimpses of old points in time. Moments alone with Milah, the sound of her laugh, the feeling of her eyes watching him, her laugh lines fanning out from the corners. At the core of it, his love for her was like a warm, even glow in his chest. Emma was suddenly sad that she would never get to meet this woman. This woman with the sharp wit and an easy laugh. She thought she would have liked her.

She kept floating through memories until they solidified all at once into sharp focus. Killian was back on the deck. Only he couldn’t move, something tight twisted around his chest and pinned him down. In front of him, Milah was on her knees. A man stood before her. His hand was buried into her chest. 

Emma recognized Rumpelstiltskin as blind, frantic panic tore through Killian, choking her. Killian had never told her explicitly how Milah had died, only that Gold had killed her. But she knew this moment. She knew what happened next. 

Rumpelstiltskin's hand tore free, Milah’s beating heart in his grip. He stared at it almost hungrily. Emma heard Killian shout, felt him pull himself free from the ropes binding him and dive for Milah as she slumped back. He caught her, begging, pleading words stumbling from his lips. She felt so light in his arms, a hollow empty shell. They shared a look, Milah’s gaze full of an unspoken farewell. 

She heard, rather than saw the crunch of the heart as Rumpelstiltskin crushed it. Milah gasped, dead even before the ashes crumbled and fell to the deck. 

Rage built in Killian, blinding and useless. It pushed him to his feet, surged him forward. He cursed Rumpelstiltskin, his hands in fists, desperate to drive them into the scaled skin and rotting teeth of the man who took his love. Rumpelstiltskin's grin was sharp. A blade flashed. Men shouted. A horrible, exquisite pain erupted from Killian’s left wrist and drove him to his knees. Emma wanted to scream.

Everything started moving too fast. The memory grew blurry again, every part of it dulled by the all consuming pain and rage boiling in Killian. He was screaming, driving a hook into Rumpelstiltskin's chest, mocking laughter meeting his ears. Then hands were grabbing him, pulling him back. Pain. Oh god there was just so much pain. Emma felt herself being dragged down with it, Killian’s vision growing black. But even in the darkness she felt the agony, unable to escape it. All alone in his head, she ached. 

The memories came and went. Bright flashes of faces crowding into his vision, frantic voices and bloody rags. Blood. There was so much blood. She could smell it, the sharp, copper tang of it. It felt like it coated his tongue, filled his nostrils and tried to drown him. He was being moved, every bump and bounce he felt sending jolts of pain through his system and forcing him back into blank unconsciousness.

Then heat. It was so sudden and sharp it brought him back to bleeding, screaming life. The world around him was thrown into abrupt focus as molten heat was pressed against the agonizing, throbbing stump of his wrist. He looked at the white hot blade being forced against his skin, watched as it melted his flesh and made it bubble around the edges, cauterizing it. He was screaming. It filled his head, an endless bellow of animalistic pain that crashed into Emma like a blow. 

When the darkness came for him again, Emma welcomed it with a sob.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when he started to wake again. She didn’t care. Every part of his body was one, long, endless agony. She couldn’t breathe from the force of it. Above him, it grew dark, then light, then dark again. Time moving on with or without him.

A noise woke him at some point. She blinked the grit from his burning eyes, trying to look at where Killian's hand had been severed. His wrist was an angry, mottled thing, the skin around it too pink, too tight. Thick blisters, fat and stretched taunt, seemed too shiny in the pale light below the deck of the ship where they had left him.

Her head lolled, their shared vision turning syrupy around the edges as the pain rose up again and smothered her in burning heat. 

She could hear voices, pitched low, all whispering with a panicked edge.

“Fever.”  

“ Infection…”

“The amount of blood he lost-” 

“No one could survive that.”

Emma writhed inside the shell of the memory. Killian , she sobbed, unsure if he could hear her. Was he in here with her? Was he reliving this too and she just couldn’t feel him? Or had Hades taken him away from her again? It was so quiet now. Killian. Killian. She repeated it again and again, his fever touching her own mind, choking the air from her lungs. How could he bear this? How could anyone bear this?

Fresh pain shot from his wrist and Emma threw her head back and screamed. Tears rolled down her cheeks when it was Killian’s voice, Killian’s pain she heard echoing endlessly in her head as she was pitched sidewise into another memory.

He was vomiting, heat and misery burning him, leaving him feeling feverish and delirious. He was fading in and out of consciousness, through the days, maybe weeks, he could no longer tell. Food and water had to be forcibly shoved into his mouth until he swallowed it, all the while he cursed at them for daring to try and keep him alive in his grief.

Emma watched it all, helpless inside his head. Killian had been right. Hades had found a way to torture them after all. Because this? Watching Killian break apart, unable to help, was agony. She wanted to fight, wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. But she could do neither. She could only sit and witness it all.

More memories faded in and out. In his rare moments of lucidity, the image of Milah, her heart torn from her chest, burned across his brain. His heart felt empty, like a hollow burden, sinking his body down deeper. His love for her burned itself away, twisted and malformed from grief. In its place, only one thought remained. Revenge. 

The word repeated itself, over and over, until it became a mantra. As his body healed, as the scar tissue on both his wrist and his heart thickened, he swore it to himself, again and again. He would have his revenge. No matter the cost. 

Trapped inside his tortured mind, Emma mourned for him.

***

Killian woke in agony. Pain snaked around his spine and sank into his bones, leaving him too weary to move. For one, terrifying moment, he thought he was back in the underworld. That all this had been a ruse. Emma had never come for him, Hades had simply split open his head and planted the idea of her, giving him hope and then taking it. Yet again.

But this place didn’t feel like his hell. There were voices around him, low murmuring, distinctly human voices.

He tried to open his eyes, but they stayed stubbornly shut. Another wave of pain twisted inside him, washing over him as his back arched and a low, sobbing moan filled his head. Emma. That was Emma’s voice.

“You’re doing great Emma, just a little longer now,” a strange voice near his feet comforted.

He felt her then, Emma. She was scared and exhausted and so, so heartbreakingly sad that it nearly swallowed her. 

He wasn’t here, he realized as her emotions buffeted him and surrounded him from all sides. This was Emma’s body. Her memory.

Her eyes opened and Killian looked across the room through tear blurred eyes. She was on her back, doctors and nurses standing around her, their faces hidden with masks and hair coverings. Blinding, overhead lights seemed to beat down on her, making her even more uncomfortable. She tried to move and Killian felt something tug on her wrist.

She let out a small sob of annoyance and pain, looking down at the silver cuff that chained her to the bed. They’d restrained her. She was in pain, she needed help, and they’d restrained her.

Fury raced through him, though he couldn’t tell if it was his or hers he felt, or a combination of the two. She felt so small in the bed, and so completely alone.

Another rush of pain, this one stronger than the first two, sent stars across their shared vision and Emma fell back.

“Okay Emma, you’re ready. It’s time to push, alright?”

She was shaking her head, and Killian felt her panic and his own bleed together. She was giving birth. He was about to witness her giving birth inside her own mind. For some reason the complete invasion of it flooded his brain, made him want to climb out of her head and simply hold her. This was her memory. Hers. He had no right to witness this and Hades certainly had no right to take that choice from her.

But he was here. There was no taking back what had been started. So he sat in the mind of the woman he loved and felt her body tear itself apart.

She was screaming, her body bearing down, the act of giving birth overwhelming her rational brain and simply taking over, trying to push. Sweat poured down her face as she strained, her pain now just a constant steady stream of misery. She wanted it to end. She needed it to end. She just wanted to lay back and sleep and never wake up. She’d fought so hard her whole life and now she had no fight left. She was done.

“You've got this Emma,” a nurse soothed from her left side, her gloved hand rubbing circles on her back. Emma liked her, Killian could feel it. This was a kind person, the only person who treated her like a patient and not a prisoner. A good person, a decent person. Someone who would make an amazing parent. Unlike her.

“Emma, I need you to work with us,” the doctor positioned between her legs called. “You need to keep pushing, your baby is ready to come out.”

Her baby. Killian felt a spark of something light inside her. Emma was too scared to give the feeling a name, but Killian recognized it instantly. Love.

Oh how she loved this little baby. She adored it. She sang it songs in her head and read to it in the bed of her prison cell when everyone else was asleep. She would give anything to her baby if it asked.

So she pushed. She pushed even as she felt like she was tearing in half, when the pain grew knife-sharp and carved her open. Voices blurred around her, all speaking over each other, telling her to take deep breaths, that she was almost there, that it was almost over. She gripped the sides of the bed, shoving forward and pushed until she thought her bones would crack and she would break apart until there was nothing of her left.

“Big push now Emma! Big push!”

She screamed and it was like the ozone in the room ignited, the lights in the room glowing white hot and shattering. Killian felt a punch of raw, primal magic explode from within her and then-

A baby’s cry, small but strong, broke through the silence. Henry. He was here. Killian wanted to look at him, wanted to see the boy's face, the feeling nearly overwhelming him. But Emma didn’t turn to look. She squeezed her eyes shut, and sank into the mattress.

“It’s a boy Emma,” the doctor said, a smile in his voice.

A boy. She had a son. A beautiful, perfect son. He cried out, and Killian felt it drive into Emma's heart like a knife. Every part of her wanted to turn, wanted to take him in her arms and hold him, to soothe his cries and protect him from every bad scary thing in this world like it was her only job in this life.

But…she couldn’t. She loved him more than anything. She would give him anything to make him happy, to keep him safe. And because of that she knew that meant he had to go away. As far away from her as possible. He deserved so much, he deserved the whole world. And she couldn’t afford to give it to him. All she had to give him was a chance. A chance at a better start. Without her. She couldn’t be a mother, couldn’t be his mother. She would ruin him. Taint him somehow. She wouldn’t do that to him.

Killian felt the decision form in her mind, felt her shake her head and grit her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as tears spilled down her face. He heard the doctor tell her that she could change her mind, that it wasn’t too late. But he knew. He knew what happened next. He wanted to beg her to change her mind, to see that she already was a mother, he wanted to be there and tell her over and over until she believed it. But he couldn’t change the past. He could only watch it.

“No. I can't be a mother,” her voice was so small, it broke him.

He felt her heart tear itself in two. When the doctors carried her baby away from her, when Henry’s small, searching cries faded down the hall into silence, Killian felt as a piece of Emma’s heart went with him. Heartbreak didn’t come close to describing this feeling. It was as if a huge, yawning emptiness split open in her chest where her heart had once sat and consumed her.

***

Killian woke with a start, jerking up and dragging air desperately into his lungs. Beside him, Emma shot up, panting, eyes darting until she saw him. Her face was pale, her hair damp from sweat and sticking to her face. She opened her mouth, her eyes rapidly moving over his face, before flinching away from him and vomiting into the tall grass. He shot forward.

“Emma, breathe. It’s alright, it’s over. What did you-?”

“Probably a good idea to give her a minute,” a taunting voice called from behind them. “She had a hell of a ride in there.”

Killian’s head spun, white hot rage spilling into his blood. Behind them, Hades sat back in a plastic lawn chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, grinning.

“You bloody bastard,” Killian was on his feet, his hand clenched. The overwhelming urge to stomp the heel of his boot into Hades’ cold, dead smile, nearly blinded him.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Hades warned, a single finger raising in the air. “We wouldn’t want to do anything rash now, would we Emma?” He leaned over, calling to her. From her kneeling position, she shoved her middle finger over her shoulder without turning and spat in the grass.

“Hades if you’ve hurt her-”

“Me? Oh no, I didn’t do anything,” he said with mock innocence. “All I did was show her your memory.”

Killian felt his blood run cold. What memory could he have shown her for her to react like that? He knelt back down when Emma moaned, wiping the back of her hand against her mouth. 

“Ignore him,” she rasped. “I’m alright. It was-it was just intense.”

“Emma love, call off the deal. I won’t have you in pain like this, I can’t-”

“No!” her eyes burned as she reached up to grip him. “Killian, no, I can handle it. Please. I promise.”

Killian blew a sharp breath from his nose, trying to keep his composure. “Emma,” he tried to make his voice gentle but it still carried an edge. “Love, what memory did he show you?”

Her eyes went distant for a moment, and Killian felt his stomach tighten. He had lived centuries, had done countless brutal things. Any of them were enough to have her react like this. The question was, which one had Hades chosen?

“It was Milah,” she said after a pause. “The moment Rumpelstiltskin killed her, and took your hand.”

Killian went still, staring at her. Hades had shown her that moment? Milah’s face, frozen in fear, floated in front of his eyes, there and gone in seconds. A phantom twinge of pain jolted from his wrist reflexively.

“How much-” he swallowed. “How much did he show you?”

“Oh, I showed her everything, don't worry!” Hades's cheery voice called. “No gory detail left out. Gave her the full surround sound experience, didn’t I Emma?”

Beside him, Emma's face turned pale, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. Killian remembered the pain he had felt trapped inside her memory of Henry’s birth, the agony she had gone through, and felt dread turn his skin cold. She had experienced him losing his hand. Even in his most lucid recollections of that day, Killian had never managed to remember that pain in anything other than hazy, blurred-over recollections. He had pushed it so far from his mind to protect himself from reliving that brutal torment.

And Hades had just made her experience it in full, merciless detail.

“You bastard Hades, there was no bloody need to show her-”

“Show her what? The moment you decided to dedicate your life to avenging your one true love?” Hades asked, his eyes growing wide with mock innocence. He turned to Emma and grinned. “No offense of course. No shame in being the runner up.”

Killian surged to his feet, blood pumping, hook raised. He would bloody end him. Here and now.

“Don’t let him get to you.” Emma said, pushing herself up on shaky legs, to grip his arm. “He's not worth it.”

Killian spared her a glance. “He doesn't have the bloody right. He doesn’t have the right to reach into our heads and pull out our pain just to torture us with it.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure I do though. After all,” Hades steepled his hands together, his gaze locking on Emma. “We made a deal.”

“The deal was to test our true love, not whatever twisted game you’re playing at Hades,” Killian snapped.

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Hades said, his tone taking on an edge of false sincerity. “True love isn’t just some cheap card trick, it’s the most powerful magic that exists. To have it you need to love so fully and completely that it’s like second nature. And you can’t have love like that when you don’t really know a person, now can you?”

The god of death gestured with both hands, like a demented talk show host. “Seriously this is a once in a lifetime opportunity here! I really wouldn’t pass this up if I were you. You,” he pointed to Killian. “Get to finally see inside the head of the saviour, finally learn what makes her tick. And you,” his hand swung to Emma. “Get to learn what kind of man Killian Jones really is.”

His words felt ominous. A promise and a curse all at once. 

“Ignore him,” Emma said. “I already tried to tell him earlier that this whole test was pointless.” She turned to look at him, her mouth turning up at the corners as a fire lit behind her eyes. “I already know exactly what type of man you are.”

“Mmmm, do ya though?” Hades asked with a hiss of breath, tilting his head to the side. “See, I'm not so sure about that. I mean you two have known each other, what, a few months at most? He’s got a whole three centuries worth of history before meeting you. Entire lifetimes lived before you were even born.”

His gaze sharpened, the edge of his smile growing pointed. “Are you really sure he’s even worth it?”

“Yes.” 

Killian sucked in a sharp breath at her sudden certainty. She turned and looked at him, her eyes holding promise. “Yes, I know he’s worth it.”

“Touching,” Hades said dryly. “Really. And for your sake, I hope you’re right. We’ve got a hell of show left to get through.”

Killian could feel the magic starting again, could feel the rush of it start to build, and shook his head. He still didn’t trust this, any of this. He knew how Hades made deals, and he knew there was no way he would give either of them up so easily.

“Emma said you agreed on a fail safe, a way out for her if she needs it. How do we know you’ll honor that?” He asked, stopping the god from conjuring another door.

Hades turned to give them a bored look, as if the question was barely worth his time. “Emma isn’t dead, not yet anyway. I don’t have any way of keeping her bound in the underworld with me. She has the ability to leave whenever she wants.”

“Yeah sure…one small problem though,” Emma glanced between the two of them. “I can’t exactly get up and walk out while I’m stuck in a sleeping curse, can I?”

Hades’s smile turned wolffish, his eyes lighting as if she’d finally said something interesting. “Well now, how funny you bring that up. I was wondering when you would.” 

When they both only stared at him, the god’s face fell. 

“Hello? Sleeping curse?” he said, gesturing to Emma with a flicking hand. “True love’s kiss? Big flashy light show? Thought this was all sort of obvious? Gods you two really are slow. Here.” he jumped to his feet, hands tucking into the pockets of his pants, and stalked towards them. 

“Let me break this down for you. You have two options, one; you see my test through to the end and test the strength of your love, or two;” he held up two fingers on his left hand. “If at any point you want the trial to end, all you have to do is kiss her. She goes back home, no hard feelings, thanks for playing, and you,” he turned to Killian, his grin predatory. “Stay here with me. And we go back to our fun little games.”

They were still for a moment, Emma hand in his squeezing tight. They could. They could just end this now. He could end this now, and save her. He turned to her, caught her tortured gaze. Her head gave one, barely noticeable shake, no.

“Unless, of course,” Hades continued, taking a step towards them. “You’re worried it won’t work?”

Killian blinked. An old, nearly buried dread rising in him like ocean water in a sinking ship. That old fear that Hades was right. That it wasn’t true love at all. 

Oh he loved her of course. He had never loved anyone the way he loved Emma Swan. Even the way he had loved Milah had been different. Not any worse or any less but…different. Loving Emma Swan was like loving the sun. It came as natural to him as breathing.

But in his weakest, most torturous moments of doubt he wondered. He wondered if she ever felt the same. She loved him, of course, in her own quiet way. And he had taken that love and cherished it, held it closely to his heart and lived off it, satisfied with all she gave him.

But. True love? In the depths of her heart was it really true love? The uncertainty of it killed him. And he knew that Hades was perfectly aware of that fact. He had practically split Killian’s head open, torn out chunks of him. Every fear, every doubt, every agonizing thought that Killian had ever felt, Hades knew. And now he planned to torture both of them with it.

“We’ll keep going with the trial.” Emma said, breaking Killian’s thoughts apart and scattering them.  “But we need real memories this time, not whatever sadistic thing you find in our pasts that you feel like torturing us with.”

“Ugh. Fine then, since you two want to be boring, we’ll do this your way! Let’s start at the beginning.” He flicked a hand through the air and another door appeared before them. “No more skipping to all the fun bits first. Off you go!”

They stared at it for a moment. It seemed to pulse with magic, threatening and inviting all at once. In his hand, her fingers were cold, the knuckles white where they gripped him tightly. He shifted, lifting his hook and brushing a lock of hair from her shoulder. Her eyes found his and locked on, a question in her eyes. He waited.

“What memory did he show you?” Emma asked finally, glancing up at him. “I’m guessing it was one of mine. Which one?” 

Killian debated not telling her. Did she really need to know how Hades had stolen that moment from her? But her face was resolute, her gaze steady. There was no point withholding this from her.

“You were in the hospital,” he said, watching her face. “Giving birth to Henry.”

“Oh.” she said, so quietly he barely caught it. Pain flashed across her face, fast and sharp, before her walls went up again and her expression grew blank.