#his mother was cruel and evil and couldn't stand the sight of him

[cassianandfenrysaremyboyos]

I can't stop thinking about the ending of These Twisted Bonds and about Sebastian of all people, rather then Brie and Finn. Despite everything, I feel so sad for him and I hope he finds happiness

[imagines--galore]

Can you please write a zuko x reader hurt/comfort fic please? I’m not sure what prompts you have for it. But take as much time as you need and feel much better soon.

Pairing: Zuko x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Hurt/Comfort. A/N: Ok but this broke my heart a little but it turned out so sweet in the end!

It never got any easier.

Every time you went to see your father it would end in disaster. He refused to speak with you, or even acknowledge your existence. That you were standing there and speaking to him.

Nothing.

No reaction.

And it broke your heart a hundred times over.

It happened every single week. And you knew there would come a time when you would simply stop coming to him. There was so much going on in your life that you couldn't possibly keep coming to see him.

Your father. The war prisoner. One of the top generals when it came to cruelty against everyone who was not Fire Nation.

The man who had been condemned to jail for the rest of his life.

By the Avatar no less. And yet you could not bring yourself to feel anything other then acceptance of the fate that had befallen your father. He was cruel, through and through. His crimes against humanity were too long to list, and there was no power in the world that could free him from his prison.

And you were glad of it.

Which made you feel guilty.

                                           ————————–

Sighing deeply you entered the Fire Nation Palace from a hidden door and leaned against it, heaving a small sigh as you did.

Yet another unsuccessful visit. You had visited him, spoken to him. Though when you had mentioned the new Fire Lord, your father had made a response.

And that was to spit on the floor.

Your heart clenched in your chest and you slid down the wooden door, burying your face in your hands. It was hopeless. Aang had said so from the beginning. Had told you that your father's soul was too corrupted by his own cruelty and evil that there was no coming back from it.

Probably the reason that compelled him to remove your father's firebending abilities.

Still you had tried. Tried to talk to him, make him see the evil he and the rest of the Fire Nation had been doing. But all your words fell on deaf ears, and you were beginning to give up. Perhaps you should give up. Perhaps you should refocus your attention towards more meaningful projects.

Such as helping the new Fire Lord rebuild the Fire Nation. A daunting task for one so young such as yourself and the Fire Lord. And yet, one you were willing to tackles and would see to succession.

Surely it was much easier to achieve world peace then to connect with your father once more.

All of a sudden you felt someone rest a hand on your shoulder. Startled you looked up, only to catch sight of a familiar figure standing there.

"Hello Zuko." You spoke lowly in greeting, tilting your head back so you could look at him properly. It was still strange to see Zuko back in the Fire Nation Palace. After having been gone for so long.

You had barely seen him over the years, since his father had banished him. There was the odd run-in when he would dock where your father would be stationed, and you would take the time to speak with your friend.

Of course that was all a ruse to hide your true purpose.

A source of information to General Iroh, esteemed member of the White Lotus. Your mother had been a member, one of the few females to hold the title. And while you had never been closer to your father, your mother was a different story.

When she had died of a sudden illness, you had vowed to keep carrying out her mission and provide information to the White Lotus. You hoped your news had helped save lives.

It was the least you could do considering how the other people of your nation treated everyone so cruelly.

Once the war had ended, General Iroh had advised Zuko to appoint you as a member of his Council. You had agreed to his offer, saying you wanted to help him rebuild the world. And during those first few months, your long-lost friendship with Zuko had ignited once more.

In front of the rest of the Council, the Elders, and anyone of prominence, you were Fire Lord Zuko and Chief Advisor Y/n. But once duties were done for the day, you were simply Y/n, and he was Zuko. You had worried that things would be different between the both of you now that Zuko was Fire Lord, however, it seemed he was still the same old Zuko, the one you had played with in the palace gardens as a child.

"Did you go to see your father again?" He asked, sitting down next to you. You sighed and gave a nod. Reaching up you ran a hand through your unruly hair. You had unpinned it before going to see your father. Less chance of people recognizing you when you had your hair down.

"And still no progress." You responded to which he nodded in understanding. "I'm having the same trouble as you are. Father won't give up Mom's location." The despair in his voice caused you to forget about your own pain momentarily. It would still be there to be wallowed in after you figured out a solution to Zuko's problem.

"Need me to go in there and extract the information from him?" You held out your palm to allow a small fire to erupt between your fingers and allowing it to flicker there. "Fire is an excellent form of torture."

He knew you were only joking, which was why he only shook his head at you before reaching out to engulf his hand with yours, putting the flame out. "I think he will tell me eventually. But for now, let him stay where he is."

You hummed in agreement. "Let them both stay where they are. I mean we're both amazing children to even want to speak to them after what they did to us." While Zuko had suffered physically at the hands of his father, you had been subjected to mental and emotional torture while living with your father. The man had never once said a kind word to you. And you would've been happy never visiting him again, but Iroh had been the one to urge you to speak with your father.

To try and make amends.

"Do you think our father's were born bad or that it was because of circumstances that they turned out the way they did?" You asked, allowing your body to relax against his as you leaned your head on Zuko's shoulder.

Thank goodness the both of your had removed the uncomfortable armor for the day.

"I believe they were both given a choice, and they picked the wrong one." He shrugged. "Or perhaps they thought they picked the right choice because it would benefit them. But then again, it does make them selfish doesn't it?"

You heaved a deep sigh and nodded. "Well I suppose it is a good thing the both of us have each other to get through this." Perhaps trying to look on the opposite spectrum would give you the little pick me up that you needed. His hand, which was still holding yours, squeezed your fingers a little, as he hummed in agreement.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, Zuko finally spoke. "I'm glad I have you by my side Y/n. Its made things easier for me here." Being back here still felt strange. He had spent so many years traveling that being inside the palace was a little unnerving to him. But somehow, your presence seemed to make things easier for him. And not just the Council. You were always listening and observing even if Zuko wasn't, and you would always fill him in if he missed something.

And as for you? You were just happy you had your best friend back.

Though Iroh had suggested that the both of you take a step further when it came to your friendship.

Crazy old man.

"You know I sent my own sources out. To try and fine your mother." You admitted to which he gave you a surprised look. You smiled at him. "What? Did you think I wouldn't look for Lady Ursa once I heard she was alive? I recall being her favorite at times when you did something she did not approve of."

It had been a soft of playful rivalry between the two of you, to see who would be pronounced as the favorite of the day. Lady Ursa had become something of a surrogate mother to you during the years of your mother's sickness. Sometimes you missed her just as much as you missed your own mother.

Zuko's answering smile was soft and adoring as he leaned his forehead against yours. "Thank you Y/n." You smiled, leaning into his embrace, enjoying the way his hand fit into yours, and how the very scent of him had you calming down.

"Thats what friends are for." He pulled back only to raise an eyebrow at your words and the teasing glint in your eyes.

"You do remember our status has changed since the marriage was arranged?" He asked, prompting you to shrug.

"So? Doesn't mean our friendship has to be effected. You're still that annoying boy I met when I first came here." You reached up to playfully muss his already disheveled hair. He playfully batted your hand away, grabbing your wrists to stop you, he pinned you with a look.

"But it does mean I can do this." A quick peck on the lips, followed by one of each cheeks, which had you feeling a little flustered. "An added bonus to our already established relationship." You declared, grinning at him, all your previous worries forgotten.

[angellesword]

SAVE ME | KTH (08)

Summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but what would happen when instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death?

Alternatively:

The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.

Genre: Demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader | Boyfriend!Yoongi x OC

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: drowning, mention of divorce, family drama, kissing, implied smut

SERIES: CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 9

If there was one thing you knew, it was this: you could never argue with the truth because even if only a few people believed it, it still didn't cease to be true.

"She didn't do anything to save her brother!" This was a classic example.

You could not go against your father when he accused you of being an evil sister.

He was right.

You didn't do anything to save Jeongguk, your younger brother, because you were busy making out with Min Yoongi.

You were more than a decade older than Jeongguk. He was only seven years old when he almost died because of your lack of responsibility and empathy.

You remembered that time vividly even though ten years had already passed.

How could you forget when it happened on your birthday, the time when everything turned upside down?

It was your fault. You were a spoiled brat. Your mother didn't hesitate to say yes when you requested a beach party for your natal day. She also agreed when you said that you were going to invite some of your friends.

You introduced Min Yoongi, your boyfriend, as your friend. Your mother wasn't strict, but you knew your father wouldn't allow you to date someone like Yoongi.

Yoongi was the kind of boy parents warned their kids about.

He was a year older than you, a typical bad boy who liked to smoke and drink. He had tattoos and piercings too.

Min Yoongi was bad for you, yet you ignored the signs.

You still agreed to sneak out with him during your own party.

You still agreed to ignore the request of your father when he told you to look after Jeongguk for a minute while he attended to whatever you wanted.

It was Yoongi's idea. He said your party was boring and that you were going to have more fun if the two of you were alone together.

You were head over heels for your boyfriend that you didn't even blink when you lied straight to your father's face just to be with Yoongi.

You knew you couldn't sneak out when he was supervising your party like a boring father that he was. The only solution you could think of was to ask him to talk to the hotel manager because you apparently claimed that their catering service wasn't in accordance to your liking.

Your father obliged, but he specifically told you to look after Jeongguk while he was gone.

"Come on. Do we really need to bring that with us?" Yoongi was pointing at seven year-old Jeongguk as if he was disgusted.

Since you were young and stupid, you also snorted while taking Jeongguk's arm.

You hated that your brother's eyes were wide and doe. It was as if it was made to guilt trip you for wanting to have fun with your lover.

"I can't leave him here, Yoongi. He's just going to annoy my friends," you said this as you looked around the whole room.

You were lying again. Jeongguk was well behaved. People liked him—your friends would like him. It’s just that...you didn't trust any of them to look after your sibling.

You only invited them to show off. You didn't really treat these people as your friends.

"Fine," Yoongi stormed out of the ballroom.

You sighed, dragging Jeongguk so you could follow your boyfriend.

The thing with Yoongi was that he was easy to please. He was pissed off, yes, but all you had to do was kiss him and everything was good again.

You were at the shore, a public place where people could see you. Despite this, you didn't stop Yoongi when cupped your ass, his mouth was hot against your lips.

You were overwhelmed with the pleasure, yet you couldn't seem to enjoy this—not when you could feel your little brother's stare.

You stopped kissing Yoongi just as when he was forcing his tongue inside your mouth.

"W-Why'd you stop?" He licked his lower lip, eyes dark while raking your figure.

He badly wanted to touch you.

"Kook," you turned your attention to your sibling instead of answering Yoongi. The latter scoff but you continued to ignore him.

You were focused on Jeongguk who was silently looking at you. You realized that he was still holding a marshmallow on stick.

"You should—" Whatever you were about to say had been cut off when Yoongi suddenly patted Jeongguk's head.

"You should stay here and wait for us," the tattooed boy faked a smile, filling in what he thought you wanted to say.

He was wrong. You didn't want your brother to see you making out with Yoongi. You were actually starting to think this was a bad idea; however, your lover didn't give you a chance to tell Jeongguk otherwise.

You just found yourself quietly following Yoongi as he dragged you away from the seven year-old boy.

"Babe, I don't think we—" You had been cut off once more. Yoongi pushed you against the trunk of the coconut tree, away from your brother’s sight.

He was kissing you and this time; you relented, indulging yourself with his soft lips, but sharp tongue.

"You like this, huh?" He chuckled when he elicited a moan from you. He was certain you loved his fingers buried deep in your cunt. It was also enough to keep your mind off your little brother.

You had other things to think about.

You loved the thrill. You loved the idea of getting off while someone watched you, but then it scared you too.

You were scared because you knew it was stupid to put your needs before your brother.

The second you reached your high, everything came crashing down.

You heard noises.

Groans. Cries. Pleas. Screams.

Screams.

You heard your father screaming Jeongguk's name.

"Yoongi—" Your eyes were blown wide because of the ugly thoughts running inside your head.

Your boyfriend shook his head. He was as confused as you.

You heard your father screamed again. This time he was calling your name.

It wasn't the same tone he used when he desperately called Jeongguk's name. The way your father called your sibling was full of worry.

But the way he called you?

It was the opposite of it.

Your father was not worried. He was mad—infuriated.

This had been confirmed when you ran towards their direction.

You ran only to stop dead on your tracks. The scene in front of you made your heart sink.

You had never seen your father cry, not even once. But here he was, bawling his eyes out as he watched a stranger trying to revive your brother.

You already knew what happened just by looking at unconscious Jeongguk and the person giving him mouth-to- mouth resuscitation.

Jeongguk drowned.

He almost died because you didn't look after him. He almost died because you were busy fooling around.

Someone almost died because of you.

It was the truth and you could never argue with it.

You deserved the nasty things your father had said to you the moment he found out what truly happened.

You deserved not only the harsh words, but also the numbing and deafening slap right across your cheek.

What you didn't deserve was the protection of your mother.

She came to know what happened to Jeongguk a short while after the ambulance arrived.

Your mother witnessed the way your father lashed out on you.

She was mad, not at you, but at your father. She said he didn't have any right to hurt you.

It was an accident. This was what your mother argued. You should be punishing me! Not our daughter! She added and your father agreed.

He started questioning her love for her children. Where were you when you're supposed to be the one looking after the kids?

Your mother couldn't answer right away. At least your father had an excuse. In his defense, he was technically taking care of you—answering to your whim just because he didn't want to upset you during your special day.

As it turned out, your mother was doing exactly the same thing. She was coaxing your male professor to give you a higher grade since you didn't do so well on your major exam.

This drove your father even madder. He thought she was flirting with your teacher (she is, but it wasn't because she liked him.) You guessed it didn't matter since it wouldn't change the fact that your father looked like he could end you and your mother—which he did.

Not literally, of course.

But he ended up cutting ties with you two. He said he couldn't stand living with vicious women.

He left that day.

He left with your little brother. Your mother didn't have the strength to chase after them because she felt like he was speaking the truth.

When your father said that your mother was unfit to care for a child, she believed him.

She was not in the mood for months after he said that. She wasn't even able to do anything when he claimed he wanted a divorce.

Your father was a cruel man. He told your mom that he would also take you away from her if she didn't sign the paper.

He wasn't rich, but he had a strong case to make your mother look like the one at fault in front of the judge.

He even said that this was a win-win situation. Your mother got a daughter and he got a son.

He was challenging your mother.

Who could take care of their kids best? Who would turn out to be the better kid?

You guessed this was also the reason why your mother tried so hard to give you the life she thought you needed. She wanted to show your father that she could raise you just fine.

This also served as a hope for her. If you became a better person, then your father might come back again.

He might change his mind and allow her to be reunited with her son.

You knew how that hope turned to ashes.

It was sad, really. Your mother died of sickness without having the chance to see the man your brother turned out to be.

Jeongguk had grown so much. He was only seventeen, but he had muscles. One thing didn't change though. His eyes were still wide and innocent.

He was sitting right in front of you, sipping on his juice like it was his first drink in eons.

"So," Jeongguk was the one who broke the silence. He figured he needed to speak before Taehyung harmed him.

The three of you were inside your apartment. You invited Jeongguk in, but it appeared like Tae wasn't thrilled to see your brother here.

Jeongguk was right to think that Taehyung might harm him. This demon was glaring at your brother as though he had done something terribly wrong.

He hadn't. Jeongguk was only smirking like a cocky teenager as he enjoyed his juice. Nothing more.

His intention also seemed harmless. He was simply asking typical questions from a brother.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Jeongguk enquired.

Taehyung's arm was resting on the back of your chair, as if he was protecting you. The way he was acting made it look like Jeongguk was going to harm you.

He wouldn't. If he was being honest, Jeongguk didn't even want to be in the same room as you.

"And if I am?" Taehyung raised his brow, challenging your brother.

"Just curious that's all," Jeongguk simply shrugged his shoulders. "I expected it. You look like a wealthy man."

Your brother was judging Taehyung based on his appearance. He was right. Taehyung always looked so intimidating, like a powerful person who had a lot of money but was hiding skeletons in his closet. This being said, he was also giving Jeongguk the impression as if he would kill people who would end up finding said skeletons.

"What's that supposed to mean?" For some reason Taehyung didn't like the tone Jeongguk used. It was as though he was mocking the devil, as if the latter was so stupid because he was 'dating' you.

"Oh, come on." The corner of Jeongguk's lip twitched. "I haven't seen my sister in years, but I know her type. My family said she only dates millionaires,"

Your jaw tensed upon hearing that. The my family Jeongguk was referring to was definitely your relatives from your father's side.

You hated them. You hated that they were feeding your brother with lies. You were many things—high maintenance—this one way to describe you, but you weren't the type of person who looked down on other people just because of their social status.

"Taehyung is a writer." You uttered, unfazed. Jeongguk would believe what his family was telling him if you showed that you were affected by their lies.

Besides, you had said the same thing to other people countless of times. You and Taehyung decided to tell others that he was a writer. This was the only plausible explanation why he was always at the hospital. You told your colleagues that Taehyung was writing a book and that the main character was a doctor. He was simply observing how things worked at Cornelia Hospital.

"That's funny," Jeongguk pouted his lips. "I like reading books, yet I haven't seen anything written by you. Are you an amateur?"

"Nom de plume." Taehyung answered.

Your brother shrugged off again.

"Make sense. Stupid me. How can you buy this big ass apartment if you're just an amateur writer?"

Jeongguk's eyes scanned your luxurious apartment. You could feel that he was testing you. He was probably trying to find out whether you bought this place or not.

"It's my apartment." You were in no mood to play games so you told him the truth.

The younger boy's eyes sparkled, as if he hit the jackpot.

"That's cool. Did you use mother's money to buy this?"

There was no mistaking the tone he was using. You instantly knew Jeongguk was mocking you. He was clowning you for still living under the shadow of your rich mother.

You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking you.

"That's right. I used our mother's money to purchase this." You crossed your arms. "If only you aren't stubborn you'll have a big ass apartment like this too, you know?"

Your father and Jeongguk didn't show up when your mother's will was being discussed. You figured this would happen. Both of them didn't even go to your mother's funeral—not even when you sent written letters asking them to show up.

Since your parents were divorced, all of your mother's money went in your bank account, including insurance. Jeongguk was a minor, so his share was still entrusted to you.

You didn't plan to take his money. That was his share. You were actually fixing this issue since Jeongguk would be turning eighteen soon.

You just hope he wasn't stupid enough to waive his right of inheritance. You were aware that he needed cash. Academic life was expensive and although your father was able to provide Jeongguk a roof under his head and three meals a day, it still wouldn't be enough to get your brother through college.

"You're pretty straight forward." Jeongguk smiled, but you could tell he was still faking it. "Which means I don't have to pretend as if I like you to get what I want."

Jeongguk paused for a second just to swallow hard. There was no hint of mischief in his eyes when he turned to you.

"I hate you and mother, but I want my inheritance now."

You could tell that he was just acting tough, as if he was not affected by any of this, but he was. You knew he hated this. He hated that he needed to get something from you.

You were certain how much he despised you and your mother, it was probably because your father and their family talked shit about you all the time.

"So give me what I want, Sister. I can't stand seeing your face anymore."

The second you heard him say this, you felt as though you were about to puke. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes.

For ten years, you made yourself believed that Jeongguk was doing fine—that it didn't matter if you tried to contact them, that he was better off with just your father by his side.

There was even a point in your life when you hated your mother because she was trying hard to show your father that she was worthy of love and her child.

She was. Your mother was your protector and you disliked that she had to appear pathetic in front of your father and sibling.

And so you started hating those two men. You tried to reason with yourself—if they couldn't see your mother's worth, then maybe they didn't deserve anything from you two.

You meant...that was the point of life, right? You made yourself believe a reason, any reason just to justify what you felt.

It was easier to lie to yourself instead of accepting things as they were.

For years, you thought it was better this way. It was better not to talk to Jeongguk; however, now that you were feeling how much he hated you, you suddenly regretted everything you made yourself believed.

Jeongguk hated you because he probably felt like you and your mother had abandoned him.

"I'll fix it as soon as possible, but it will take months, K-Kook. You're still a minor." You could no longer act like you weren’t breaking inside.

"Ah, about that..." Jeongguk let out an exhausted breath. You knew he was masking fear by making it looked like he was tired.

Some things never changed, huh? A decade had passed, but you still knew how he acted.

"You might wanna use your connection or something. You and I both know we can't stand each other. I don't want to live with you."

The hurt you felt was overpowered by confusion.

"Why would you wanna live with me?"

You were growing more curious now. Did Jeongguk run away from home? Was that it? Was this the reason why he suddenly showed up here?

Your assumptions had been debunked when your brother spoke again. His voice was void of any emotion that you thought he was fooling around.

Or perhaps you just couldn't accept what he told you.

"Because our father is dead."

[doodlelolly0910]

Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn’t expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: So I have been reliably informed that I am cruel and evil for this chapter sooooooo sorry? Lol. Some very big shifts happen here, but I won't say much more because I don't want to give too much away for this chapter or the chapters this affects in the future. You'll have to read and see ;) An especially large thank you this week to @kmomof4 who was very patient and efficient with this chapter, which made it possible for this to be posted on time (I had a really rough week lol) and of course thank you to @courtorderedcake because she's amazing, this art is amazing, and I'm just in awe of her period. *insert Wayne and Garth WE'RE NOT WORTHY bowing here* lol. Y'all are fabulous for all the reviews and favorites and reblogs and even just for reading this. I appreciate each and every one of you. Alrighty, on with the show, I hope you guys like it!

Chapter 13

Despite her better judgement, and the severity of the situation, Emma found herself managing Will Scarlett’s presence quite tolerantly. He reminded her of an annoying little brother, eating her sunflower seeds and spitting them all over himself, fiddling with her radio, trying to go through her console and glove box, making her thankful she’d locked the latter. It held her badge and gun in case of emergency.

“Take another left over here.” He pointed to an upcoming side street, happily bobbing his head to the music and chomping on another handful of seeds. Emma wrinkled her nose as he noisily slobbered shells into an empty convenience store cup.

“Can you not do that? It’s distracting. And disgusting,” she said, turning down the street he’d pointed out. She was glad she'd called Jefferson before they left and let him know she was waiting on Gold because this journey was taking much longer than she thought it would.

“Aw. Have I offended the princess’s delicate sensibilities?” he asked, grinning and still chewing on the seeds in his mouth. “Turn right up here.”

“Where are you even taking me?” Emma asked, complying with his instruction once more.

“Don’t trust me, love? I thought I had an honest face,” he grinned, a black bit of seed lodged in between his second and third upper teeth.  Emma rolled her eyes, and tightened her grip along the steering wheel. Much as she tolerated Will Scarlett, he was still a criminal leading her to a dangerous man in an unknown location. That, and he was infuriating.

“Can’t you just give a single straight answer?” she grumbled and suddenly, she recognized their surroundings. The smell of the sea permeated the vehicle, which was a welcomed break from the floral torture she’d been under for the last day solid, and she took a deep breath. “The docks, huh? I still have my knife if you’re trying to dump a body.” Will snorted.

“Hook would have more than me balls for somethin’ like that. And it’s broad daylight, if ya haven’t noticed,” he pointed out, motioning around them as the car came to a stop. “Not exactly prime conditions for corpse dumpin’.” With a final grin and a waggle of his ridiculous eyebrows, he opened the door and slipped from the vehicle like a cat. Emma was slower to respond, taking in her surroundings and a deep breath as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She exhaled slowly, trying to get her bearings, when her breath cut off short at the sight waiting for her.

Will was making his way towards a small pier where a figure stood staring out over the water. She knew even from behind that it was Killian Jones. His slightly overlong hair moved with the seaspray, his good hand tucked into the pocket of his leather jacket. His weight was supported on one leg, giving him a slight lean, his hook swinging freely at his side. It was exactly like the very first vision Milah had shown her of him. This must be something he did often, and she wondered briefly why he would summon her to a place that obviously meant a lot to him. Will approached him, saying something that she couldn’t hear, and Hook turned to acknowledge the man before setting his sights on her. He said something back, slipping his hand from his pocket and clapping Will on the shoulder but keeping his gaze firmly locked on hers. Shaking her hands out over her lap, she reached for the door handle and got out.

She leaned against the open door as he walked over to her, expression near unreadable, but somehow lighter than anything she’d seen on his face before. As he got closer, his eyes seemed to hold a note of apology and relief, which surprised her. He did throw her out, after all, dismissing her admissions and fears immediately. She couldn’t say without a second thought, because, well, here she was.

“Have you met with Gold yet?” he asked, coming to a stop just on the other side of the barrier the door provided. She raised an eyebrow at that.

“Good to see you again, too. And, yeah, I did,” she said, motioning to the bruise forming on her cheek and the split in her lip where the man in question had struck her. The anger that she was used to seeing in Hook’s eyes flashed there once again and he clenched his jaw making her blink at him in bewilderment. “I’m still in one piece, though, so I mean, it could be worse,” she mumbled, unsure of why she felt the need to reassure him of her well being.

“Aye. It could. Maybe you are a fool after all, Swan,” he said tersely, as if he were scolding a child. This ignited the rage in her belly all over again.

“Okay,” she said, slapping her hands on the top of her door. “Nice to see you again. I’m leaving.” She made to get back in the driver’s seat.

“No, no, wait, love, wait,” he rushed forward, hand and prosthetic held up to stop her. She paused, her lips pursed into a tight line.

Just listen, Milah murmured softly and Emma squeezed her eyes shut at the sound, shaking her head lightly. She blinked them open and scanned the area again, finding Will still patiently waiting on the dock he'd approached Hook on, clearly giving them space. She turned her attention back to Hook, his eyes searching her features as if trying to read her.

“I know you're upset with me,” he began and Emma snorted.

“Understatement,” she scoffed and a surge of jasmine around her made her bite her tongue against further barbs. The last thing she needed was for Milah and Hook to be battling for her attention.

“I know, and I called you here because perhaps I was a little hasty in enforcing your departure.” He nearly winced at the words, looking down and fiddling with his prosthetic with his good hand, and Emma found herself mildly amused by his discomfort. Apology did not seem to be his strong suit.

“So you regret missing an opportunity to recover your mother's ring,” she replied, irritation overriding her amusement. “Anything else?”

His eyes snapped up to hers with a force that almost had her stumbling backwards, a curious intensity to them that almost made the blue brighter and darker at the same time.

“I never told you that was my mother's ring,” he said, his tone low and even. Emma almost swallowed her tongue, fully expecting him to lash out again.

“I- I- uh- you didn't? I'm sure you did because, I mean, how else would I know that?” she tittered nervously, scooting closer to the interior of the car in order to make a quick escape if needed.

Silence descended between them and his eyes settled into a saddened expression, his brow furrowing slightly.

“No, love, I didn't. I haven't spoken of my mother in quite a long time. And the last people I spoke about her with are long gone.” He shifted towards her carefully, his movements slow and obvious, as if she was a wild cornered animal. She felt like one, so it was appropriate.

“Why am I here, Hook?” she said in a cracked voice, much higher than she would have liked it to be. He was standing practically up against the door now, his expression more sincere than anything she'd seen from him yet. There was a glimmer of vulnerability in the depths of his pupils that she was sure he didn't let free often and her heart clenched in her chest at the thought of him letting that side open to her. In this moment, she knew she was dealing with Killian Jones, not Hook.

“I want to help you,” he said with a steady certainty. “Gold is… well, you're in over your head. I'd like to help get you out of this predicament.”

“I can take care of myself,” she ground out. “I'm not a damsel in distress.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Swan,” he said, the mirth returning to his voice. He smirked and rocked back on his heels with a single ridiculously arched eyebrow. “But it would be bad form to leave a lady in distress when I have the power to ease her troubles.” He chuckled a little. “That's something Liam would have said. He was a navy man. Believed in all things done in ‘good form’.” He made air quotes with his hand and hook, eyes glazing in memory, and Emma couldn't help but soften as he spoke of his brother. His gaze came up to meet hers again, raw and honest. “But you already knew that, didn't you?”

Emma's breath caught in her throat as she gauged his expression. Strangely, she found no judgment or malice there this time. Just something that looked an awful lot like hope. She didn't trust her voice, she she offered him a simple wide eyed nod. He smiled, a soft little thing that made him look years younger and infinitely more handsome. Emma blinked a few times against that thought and drew her brows together in confusion. She had a job to do, she reminded herself. No time to be distracted by handsome criminals.

But distracted she was when his good hand came unexpectedly to rest on top of hers, turning it to grasp her fingers, his skin warm and callused on hers. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch and she stared at him, trying to get a read on what was going on.

“I don't know who you are, Emma Swan, or what's happening here, but I think I want to,” he said earnestly and Emma's heartbeat went from moderately fast to breakneck speed, her grip involuntarily tightening on his hand. He smirked at the movement, his tongue coming out to trace over his lips before lifting her fingers to them and placing a kiss on the back of her hand and releasing it easily. Emma didn't know what to do, what to say.

A shrill ringing sound coming from the console inside her car broke the tension and she darted her eyes to the interior.

“I better…” she trailed off, pointing awkwardly into the vehicle before slipping into it and retrieving the phone.

The words UNKNOWN NUMBER flashed across her screen. Emma felt a chill run through her and she fought not to shiver, knowing she was still under Hook's scrutiny.

“Swan,” she answered, a little proud of how businesslike and even her tone was.

“Neverland Shipping Warehouse,” Gold's voice said through the line, clipped and straight to the point. Emma was surprised to hear him on the line, rather than Zelena or another of his goons. “I've sent the address to your phone. There is a crate inside that I need you to get into. It is labelled with a large red X. You have four hours. Do not disappoint me again,” he said coldly and hung up before she could say another word.

DANGEROUS, Milah's voice shrieked out in her head, and Emma frowned deeply, ignoring her and looking down to the phone to confirm she received the information. Once she had, she looked up to see Killian Jones watching her with quiet concern, his hand on her still open door.

“Gold's people, I presume?” he said, his eyes darkening again.

“Ah, the man himself, actually,” she said and Killian looked so surprised it bordered on alarm. “I have to go. Duty calls.” She gave him an apologetic look, then glanced towards the docks to see Will Scarlett heading back in their direction.

She reached for her door, fully intending on making her escape (and making Scarlett Hook's problem), but she was halted by Hook's hand pulling the door gently, but firmly back to him. A puzzled look crossed her face and she jerked her head up to meet Hook's gaze.

“This isn't right, love. I don't think it's wise that you go,” he said, caution painted in every word.

STAY, DANGER, Milah repeated.

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes at the both of them, pulling the door back to her and out of his grip, shutting it with only a little more force than strictly necessary. She rolled her window down to about halfway and smiled up at him, his face still a mask of stony concern.

“Swan, you're playing with fire here,” he cautioned again.

“Wouldn't be the first time I've gotten burned.” She shrugged and started her little yellow bug, the engine puttering to life. “I'll be in touch.”

As she pulled away with one last reassuring smile, she saw Hook motion sharply for Will Scarlett to get in the black SUV that was parked by a small building. He would get over it. She had to focus on Gold. Then she could worry about him.

The drive was short, thankfully for her nerves. She shot Jefferson a quick text to update him on her location and the plan, and he confirmed it with the usual caution to be safe that made her roll her eyes again. She had more people seemingly concerned for her well being now than she'd had in her whole life.

When she pulled up to the abandoned looking metal building that matched the address Gold had sent her, she was pretty damn sure that Hook and Gold must certainly have the monopoly on the real estate market for places that looked like they'd be a good spot to hide a body.  The building looked like it hadn't been used in at least a decade. It was the last one standing on the block that was surrounded by dilapidated, crumbling structures, buildings that were shadows of their former selves and that should have been set for demolition years ago. A general unease set into the pit of her belly.

Dangerous, Milah murmured in her head again, the sound a feeble plea. Emma supposed she was getting as tired of saying it as she was hearing it. She ground her teeth together. She knew it was dangerous. She had no other choice.

She took a deep breath and pulled her door open, her senses on high alert and the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. The jasmine scent surrounded her still as she moved towards the warehouse, strangely giving Emma comfort that she wasn't alone, even though Milah was adamantly unsupportive of this endeavor.  She scanned the area, making sure no one was watching as she made her way to the door and tried the handle.

Much to her surprise, it wasn't even locked. The door was heavy though and it took several pulls before the rusty old thing swung open on a loud groan that had Emma's heart dropping to her stomach. She quickly looked around as she darted inside, making sure the noise hadn't given her away. She still saw no one in the vicinity and she wondered briefly what was so important and difficult to obtain at this location. She shrugged it off. If this was the way to get back into Gold's good graces, so be it.

The room she found herself in was large and mostly empty, a few empty crates and pieces of abandoned, unstable furniture littering the area. The door shut heavily behind her, making her wince once more. It was quiet. Almost too quiet. But none of that mattered when she spied her prize.

A wooden box sat in the center of the room, not overly large in size, but conspicuous all the same as it looked like it had been recently placed there. The large, spray painted red X on the outside of the box told her she was in the right place.

Emma, leave now, danger, Milah said firmly, her accented voice full of worry, making Emma pause in her tracks. The spirit had never called her by name before and a chill went down her spine.

“I can't, Milah, I have to see this through,” she said, her tone acknowledging the regret she felt in the pit of her stomach.

As she approached the box, one of the corners appeared to be wedged up, giving Emma her in. This was turning out to be far smoother than she thought it would be, which put her even more on alert, especially with the steady warnings her ghostly companion had been offering (not to mention how the last time something was going her way went). She screwed her courage to the sticking place and put her gloved hands on the lid, prying it open. The box was filled with styrofoam peanuts, a paper that looked like a packing slip at first glance sitting on top. She picked it up and unfolded it to read and her blood immediately froze in her veins.

One is not useless if they can be used as an example, dearie.

It was then she noticed the red wire hanging limply from the back end of the lid, most likely separated from whatever it was connected to when she lifted the wooden top. Frantically she shoved the packing peanuts out of the way until she laid her eyes on the something she definitely hadn't been prepared to see.

Several gray blocks of a clay like substance sat surrounding a clock face, a motherboard and wires connecting them all together wedged underneath. She looked at the digital numbers in the center and her adrenaline spiked immediately.

00:12

00:11

00:10

00:09

EMMA RUN, Milah screamed out in her head and she didn't have to be told twice. The paper fluttered to the floor and she scrambled to turn around, her feet carrying her as fast as they could back to the door she came through. The heavy metal door was even harder to open from the inside. She struggled, pulling and yanking on the handle so hard she was almost afraid she was going to pull it off. In one last effort, Emma planted her foot against the door frame and tugged as hard as she could, the groan from the hinges giving way like music to her ears. She stumbled backwards with the force of opening it but quickly righted herself and ran through the door to freedom.

A deafening boom rang out behind her the instant her feet hit the packed dirt outside the door, heat and debris assaulting her back, and then she was falling. She could hear nothing except a high pitched ringing in her ears as her world turned on its axis. Her body rolled midair with the force of the explosion, the sky coming into view above her, flames licking at her peripheries, and her head hit the ground with a crack she couldn't hear in the same spot she had been struck before. She felt immediately ill, her vision blackening at the edges.

Through her haze, she registered two sets of legs running in her direction, but she couldn't see who they belonged to through her rapidly darkening sight.

She must have been going crazy after all,  because the last thing she thought she saw before losing consciousness completely was the profile of her mother's face, the song that had comforted her for years echoing over the ringing in her head.