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katie-dub · 6 years

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The Masks We Wear (10/?)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

AO3

Thanks as ever to @apromisednightcap my beta, my hero, the Q to my James Bond.

So a bunch of lovely people have made me art - @justanotherwannabeclassic made this gorgeous aesthetic, @ofshipsandswans made this stunning aesthetic, and @wingedlioness made this amazing manip. All artwork can be found on my blog tagged #tmww art - you should check it all out and show these amazing people some love for their talent. I’m so incredibly touched.

Killian and Emma are colleagues, friends and they’re madly in love with each other. If only they could work out that their feelings are totally requited. But then, if they still haven’t figured out that they work together as superheroes in their spare time, there’s probably no hope for them. Probably.

Previously on The Masks We Wear...

Emma AKA The Saviour has learned the truth about Killian AKA Hook AKA The Survivor’s alter ego and rescued him from Gold’s clutches, but when the time came to reveal her own secret identity, her anxiety took over and she kept her silence. Having just barely survived his encounter with The Dark One, Killian doesn’t have time to wallow over unrequited revelations - in just three days time his nemesis plans to take over the world.

Of course she'd fallen so hard for The Survivor, she was already in love with him.

“I’m so glad that Gold didn’t kill you.”

He didn’t deserve The Saviour’s secrets, and he certainly didn’t deserve her love.

“Belle, you need to assemble the Nevengers. We’re running out of time to save the world.”

Killian hated reliving his ordeal even for long enough to share what he'd learned with Belle. He talked fast to get it all out as quickly as possible, finding that it did feel a little good to not have the thoughts of Regina's enslavement, Gold's plan and his sincere wish to see Killian suffer rattling around his brain.

“I should have known my past mistakes would come back to haunt me,” he said wryly when he was done.

Belle smiled at him kindly and reached out a hand to give his a squeeze. “Loving Milah was not a mistake, don't ever apologise for having love in your heart.”

He bit back a reply asking if that's what she told herself about Gold - the sad, sympathetic look she was giving him made it clear that she did.

The silence between them was long and heavy, both lost in their contemplations of how something that should be so beautiful and pure had come to this. It was Belle who came around first. “You know we need to alert the others, we can't wait around for Gold to do his worst.”

“Aye.” Killian nodded his agreement. “What should we do about Regina? This may not be her fault, but we can't get her involved if she's still being forced to be Gold’s Evil Queen puppet.”

“True - and we really need her knowledge and skills to help our cause. What we know about Gold is surely horribly out of date.” Belle chewed her lip thoughtfully. “There's something we can try. I've been working on a prototype of a machine to counteract the Dagger’s effects using blueprint that we have. If we can get her here -”

“We can break the spell! Belle, you're a genius!”

“You only just working that out?” Belle teased, “and I thought you were smart.”

Killian quirked a brow at her snark in the face of impending disaster. It was a tactic that was all too familiar to him, a mask to hide the fear. “We can't all be as clever as you, love,” he shot back. “That's why we're all happy to have you to think up promising plans on our behalf.”

“Kiss ass.” Belle rolled her eyes but looked grateful for the support nonetheless. “We can tell Regina to arrive early and try it on her then. We’ll need to move her into the holding room in case it doesn’t work - can’t have her poofing out of here and telling Gold our plans.” She looked at him appraisingly. “You should stay out of the way too - until we know his hold over her is gone she can’t know that we’ve rescued you.”

“I think Gold is aware of that by now.”

“But he doesn’t know exactly where you are. The less he knows, the better. In fact -” she frowned and cocked her head, studying him “- you may be best off staying here until we’ve dealt with him.”

His hackles were up instantly. He’d never been one to hide from danger, preferring to confront it head on, his personal safety be damned. (It’s not like he had much to fear in that respect, his powers being what they were.) And now, so soon after he had spent days shackled to a table - she clearly wasn’t thinking about what she was saying. He clenched his jaw in a studied effort to keep from screaming at his friend. “You want me to exchange one prison for another? Forgive me if I’d prefer freedom.”

“Even if it means death?” Belle asked pointedly, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Well that’s hardly likely,” was his defiant answer. “Don’t you remember who I am?”

She huffed out a sigh, closing her eyes in a gesture he knew to mean she was searching for some inner strength. “Killian, I know that Gold wishes you dead, and what Gold wants, he usually gets. I’m saying that it would be prudent - in the interests of your safety - and of those you love to be discreet. I don’t plan to tie you up.”

Right. Those he loved. The Saviour. Emma. She might be hurt if Gold thought she was the best way to get to him - especially now that he had been unmasked. He nodded, placated, and looked at Belle with a cheeky grin. “Not even in the good way?”

Belle sighed deeply. “I’ll call in the troops, you should get some rest.”

“Aye, I’ll have a shower, wash off the just been tortured feeling.”

“Killian -” she began, looking alarmed and overwhelmingly sympathetic. “It’s fine, love,” he cut her off, “just a little gallows humour. I’m fine.”

He really wasn’t fine.

He felt grimy inside and out, his skin was coated in a layer of dried blood, drool and other questionable fluids. It felt good to wash, but it was as though the dirt had worked its way deeper, burrowing into his pores, crawling beneath his skin. He could wash forever and he might never be free of the feeling of Gold torturing him, the manic delight in his eyes would forever be imprinted on his brain.

His eyes burned, his head pounded and the world seemed to swim in and out of focus after days of little to no sleep. He remembered how his subconscious had brought Emma and The Saviour to his side in the brief moments when he could sleep. He smiled to himself - they were both with him, comforting him, protecting his soul, saving him from madness. Almost. He had thought he really had seen Emma standing before him, horror struck, before Gold’s torture wrenched screams from his throat and drove the hallucination from his sight. It was what made it so hard for him to believe that The Saviour had really come to his rescue when she appeared; although his faith in her was deep - he certainly had more for her than for himself - his mind had been playing cruel tricks on him.

He sighed, locked away the painful memories, and focused on the feeling of the hot water pounding on his skin.

He lost track of time under the spray. The hot water couldn't truly cure his troubles but it did ease them somewhat. When he finally switched the shower off, he felt refreshed, and able to face his superhero duties again, however much his head still spun with exhaustion.

He dressed in a tshirt and sweats that he kept stashed in a locker at the base for training in, relishing the feeling of the soft, warm fleece against his skin. Feeling somewhat human again he made his way towards the control room in search of Belle. He needed to move quickly to end things with Gold for good if they stood any chance of succeeding - if he stood any chance of making it through the encounter unscathed.

He was just about to step into the room when a voice made him stop; was Regina already in there?

Cautiously he peered around the doorway and saw Regina chatting to The Saviour and Belle. The Saviour caught sight of him and her eyes went wide with horror for a split second before she regained her mask of composure.

Right, they hadn’t solved the Regina Problem yet.

He backed away, treading softly to ensure that he wasn’t heard, and went in the direction of the break room. He should probably try to get some sleep but he was buzzing and he was on edge. He needed to punch something - ideally some bad guy, ideally in person - but as that wasn’t really an option while he was confined to HQ, he’d settle for doing some damage in a video game.

Perhaps Henry would join him, although he was sure the kid should be in bed. (And yeah, technically he wasn’t a child and he was more than capable of his superhero duties, but the lad was only 16, he wasn’t sure it was fair to place the weight of saving the world on his shoulders, however useful they might find his abilities. He just had to wonder at the parents who would allow their teenager to engage in such dangerous missions - or simply failed to notice his absence - he wasn’t entirely sure which was worse. Something about his time in Gold’s lab had brought back painful memories of a childhood as an orphan and being made to grow up too fast and dammit if he didn’t hate that Henry was going through that now himself.)

“Sup, Survivor?” He’d gotten lost in his thoughts, not even noticing that he’d made it to the break room already and sure enough he found Henry there. “Or should I say Killian?”

Killian started, unused to hearing his real name coming from Henry. He blinked at him. “What?”

“The Saviour mentioned that might be your real name? Sorry. Um, is that still a secret? I mean you’re unmasked now anyway so I figured - fuck, I’m making a mess of this.”

He laughed at Henry in spite of himself. “It’s ok, nice to meet you Henry, I’m Killian.” He stuck his hand out for Henry to shake.

Henry breathed a deep sigh of relief and shook his hand. “So you know The Saviour in real life? Crazy, huh?”

“Did she happen to mention how?” he tried to sound casual, but if the look on Henry's face was anything to go by, it hadn't worked. He wasn't sure if an expression could actually be sarcastic, but if so, Henry's was absolutely sarcastic, not to mention confused.

“You mean you don't know?” he said. Killian tried not to huff, The Saviour was a superhero, she was good at disguises, just like he was. Their real lives depended on it. Henry started to laugh. “Wow - you really don't, do you? How is that fucking possible - I actually thought you were smart?”

“I came here looking for something to punch - figured we could play some Bayonetta, but if you're volunteering…” He smiled at Henry, with the faintest glimmer of a threat in his eyes. Henry held his hands up in defeat, then grabbed Killian's controller and tossed it at him.

“Killian, are you seeing anyone?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

He stared at Henry, confused by the change in subject. “What? Uh- um. No. Why do you ask?”

“It's just The Saviour she -” he looked like he was struggling to find the right words. “Well, she seems like she really, like maybe -”

Killian was utterly lost. “Maybe what, mate?”

“I thought maybe you were together. I don't know. I don't know what I'm talking about.”

“What? No. I -” Killian stopped. He was bewildered by this line of questioning and found himself wondering once again who The Saviour was to him. But that brought to mind the moment in the hospital bay when she failed to tell him her real identity. She didn't trust him and it hurt too much to wonder why. Instead he tried to deflect the conversation. “I just find that girlfriends don't really mix well with superhero duties.”

“Really? I've never thought that.”

“And what would you know? You aren't using your superhero status to impress the ladies are you?”

“No, who'd do that?” Henry shook his head at the suggestion, his expression so world weary that Killian had to stifle a laugh. “I do have a girlfriend though.”

“Oh yeah? I like the sound of this already.” He smirked at Henry, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Violet.” He glanced over at Killian then shrugged. “She's cool, maybe we don’t have some kind of fairytale romance like Snow and David have going on, but who does?” He had a slightly dreamy, faraway look in his eye. Killian always liked it when Henry showed his romantic side, even if he usually tried to cover it up with layers of swearing and sarcasm. But the glimpses he did catch in between the teen angst made it clear why Henry had the power to make anyone believe.

“Weren’t we talking about your love life? I’m sure you’re deflecting here.”

“Henry, I -” he stopped. He didn’t know what to say. “The Saviour could have told me who she is, but she hasn’t. She doesn’t want me to know. Clearly I’m not a person she wants to be involved with.”

“That’s a bit of a leap, man. Can you say Extra?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he huffed.

“Not everything is about you. Perhaps she’s not someone you would want to be involved with -” Killian opened his mouth to argue “- or she thinks she’s not.”

“She’s far too good for me. Whoever she is.”

Henry sighed. “You’re both as bad as each other.” He turned back to the game and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I should make you both believe in yourselves.”

Killian didn’t really know what more to say. The thought that The Saviour might think herself somehow as unworthy of him didn’t compute. She was a goddess amongst men. He was too tired to try to analyse this most bizarre of thoughts. Instead he focused on gaming, letting the bright lights and colours fill his mind and overtake his senses.

“Guys?” Killian blinked up at Belle in confusion, unclear how long he’d been lost in the flow of the game. “You ready to talk saving the world? Everyone’s here.”

“Everyone?” he asked, meaningfully. Belle nodded. Regina was back on their side.

When they made it to the control room everyone was milling around the room. His eyes rested on The Saviour who looked unhappy and agitated - he tried to catch her eye and give her a reassuring smile, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. It felt like a knife to his heart. Despite what Henry might believe, he was certain that he was the problem in their - well, in whatever their relationship was.

What an idiot he was - in love with two women - one whom he shouldn’t date for her safety and one who wouldn’t want to date him.

“Hook - I mean Jones.” Regina’s voice dragged his attention away from his wallowing. She looked deeply uncomfortable, arms folded across her chest and perfectly manicured nails drumming against her forearms.

“Yes?”

“I want to apologise to you for - well, for leading you into that trap. I -”

Killian saw a flash of the lab he’d been tortured in. He felt the restraints on his wrists and ankles, the terror in his bones, the agony of every experiment. They made him dizzy. He squeezed his eyes to shut out the memories.

“Please don’t, Regina.” He cut her off. And while partly it was out of kindness, knowing her to be blameless, he also couldn’t bear to think of those awful few days. “I know that you weren’t in control of your actions.”

“Still I hate to think of you -”

“Then don’t. Really.” He plastered on a falsely cheerful grin, desperate to change the subject. “So, what are the chances that two superheroes were working together without ever realising it?”

Regina laughed taking his bait with relief. “I should have guessed it was you the moment we first met, Jones. No one else could be that cocky.”

“Oh please, I’m a master of disguise and I’m very humble in my normal life. It’s one of my best qualities.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

Regina groaned, apparently coming to a realisation. “That night you persuaded me to join the Nevengers, I said Killian was - that you were - Emma's boyfriend. I don't appreciate being treated like a fool,” she huffed.

“If the horribly overpriced designer heel fits…” he said, trailing off under Regina’s cold glare. He rubbed his brow and pinched his nose while he reconsidered his mockery. “My apologies, lass, but I was not mocking you then: Emma and I are just good friends.”

“Don't be a, what would you say? a bloody fool, you two aren't just anything.”

“You ever considered a career as a couple's therapist?”

“Listen to me or not, I don't care, Jones, just make sure this little “will they, won't they,” love triangle soap opera bullshit you have with Emma and The Saviour doesn't interfere with the mission, OK?”

“You always were so supportive, Regina, you know that?”

“Regina, Killian, are you ready to talk business? This is kind of important.” He couldn’t help but feel relieved at Belle’s interruption. This was the second uncomfortable discussion about his relationship status that he’d had today - he was more than a little tired at his fellow superheroes’ insistence on putting his love life under the microscope. It was hardly the time or place.

As he joined the Nevengers at their table he realised with alarm that The Saviour might have overheard his conversation with Regina. He looked over to her but she was studiously ignoring him. It was hard to be sure if she had heard him as it was no more than she'd been doing since he stepped foot in the room. He frowned hard and tried not to brood on dark thoughts of how unworthy he was of her.

Killian struggled to concentrate throughout the serious planning discussions that took place around him. Regina was able to volunteer as much - if not more - information than he had so he was able to largely sit and let his mind wander. He caught the general gist of things: they needed to act fast so the decision was made to strike tomorrow, they had devised a plan that should spell the end for Gold. He didn’t overly care about the fine details at this point.

One point did make him sit up and take note - Henry was going to have to head into the field. He had been fiddling on his laptop and declared that whatever back door he had used to shutdown the force field that interrupted their powers had been locked tight. Their only chance was for Henry to enter the building and work on the computer system directly.

Killian was instantly on alert. Henry felt like the little brother he’d never had and while he’d always been involved in their superhero activities, he’d never had to enter the fray like this, always able to help them out behind the scenes.

Killian sat up straight. “Is that wise?” “I don’t know, kid.” “That’s far too dangerous!” He, The Saviour and Regina had all spoken at once. Henry rolled his eyes at their overprotective defence of him.

“Look, if we’re going to take Gold out, you need your powers. We only have two cuffs. What else can we do?”

“I can protect Henry,” David spoke up. “I don’t need my powers to defend us both, and when he gets that shield down he’ll have twice as many bodyguards. Regina, if you keep your cuff and Henry takes Killian’s you can poof us into their computer rooms right?”

“See? It’ll be fine.” Henry said.

Killian sighed and looked over at The Saviour and Regina. Neither of them looked any more comfortable than he did, but still it was the only way. He hated it though. He wondered if this was how Liam used to feel watching him enter fighting pits: desperate to protect him, but powerless to do anything.

Oh God. Thinking of Liam and how he’d been sent to his death by Gold did little to assuage his fears at this time. Henry was not Liam. He knew the challenges that he was facing. He would have David with him. He would be ok.

He had to be ok, or Killian would kill Gold and make The Saviour bring him back to life so he could kill him all over again.

When everything was finally decided for the next day, he stood up to leave when Belle stopped him, looking awkward. “I still don’t know about you leaving here today, Killian.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “I'm not sleeping here tonight,” he said bluntly. He wouldn't explain himself, didn't want to share his trauma with the group, but the sterile hospital bay felt just a little too much like Gold’s lab for comfort. He gazed at Belle defiantly, challenging her to disagree with him.

“I'll poof you out.”

It took a moment for The Saviour's words to register. He looked at her curiously. “Come again?”

“I can - I can poof you out.” She quickly looked away from him and turned to Belle. “You're worried about him being seen? If I take TS home -” Killian noted curiously that she didn’t use his real name, despite clearly knowing it “- he won't be. Can do a few spells to keep him safe and I'll bring him back here in the morning.” She looked from him to Belle and shrugged.

“If you wanted to spend the night in my bed, you only have to ask. I'm sure we'll need to use - I mean, I need to have, protection.” She rolled her eyes but kept her eyes locked on Belle, while he poked his tongue in his cheek suggestively.

“Whatever, I'll do the spells and run.”

A dozen more flirty taunts ran through his mind, but she still wasn’t looking at him and he was tired. Too tired for it all.

“Well? Can I be released? I'm sure if Gold really wants me dead it won't matter where I sleep.”

Belle frowned at his poor attempt at humour. “Fine, but seriously, let The Saviour protect you, okay?”

He turned to The Saviour. “Come now, love, my life is in your hands.” He meant it as a casual comment, but it felt far too close to the truth.

She took his hand in hers, a cloud of smoke surrounded them, and when it cleared they were in his apartment.

He expected her to let go of him at once, but she lingered, her fingers gently stroking his hand before she parted from him with a sigh.

“I'll just -” she motioned around vaguely “- set up some protection spells.”

“Thanks. And I'll... I'll be in my room. Checking my phone. Seeing if I was missed.” A curious expression flashed across The Saviour's face. His heart clenched, had he just insulted her by suggesting that she hadn't missed him? But, it wasn't as though they saw each other every day. In fact, how had she known to come looking for him?

He stepped inside and looked around curiously. Someone had been here. Or had he left the room in a mess? It wasn't like him to do that but he'd had a lot on his mind the day he left on his ill-fated mission. His bed was unmade and his closet open. Clothes had been roughly pushed to one side and his secret compartment was open. This was incredibly careless. Had he really left his secrets exposed like this? He shook his head, he was exhausted and not thinking straight. That was all that was happening here. It must be. Surely.

He took his phone from out of his bedside table and switched it on, busying himself with straightening up the room while it started up. It buzzed right off the table with the alerts of missed calls and texts. Only one of each from Emma.

“Thanks for telling me about your last minute vacation. I hope that you’re enjoying yourself.”

He read Emma's message several times, until it clicked that Regina had probably been forced to explain away his absence. He clenched his jaw in frustration. He'd been suffering and she'd believed him to be sunning himself in a beach somewhere? That hurt.

“Um, TS?” He looked up as The Saviour peered around his door. “I'm finished. I should probably go.”

I'd feel safer if you stayed. He longed to tell her. Hell, why not go full on cheesy romance novel while he was at it? Let's tear off the masks we wear, and let our hearts beat as one as we make passionate love.

Yeah, no. That wasn't going to happen. She continued to hide herself from him and however much that hurt, he had to accept her decision. What exactly was he thinking might happen? That they'd cosy up on the couch with her in full superhero gear? That she'd happily curl up in bed with him with her face still concealed? It was absurd and yet he wanted her with him.

“Thanks.” He felt awkward and desperate for her to stay. He switched to an old tactic - beating down his feelings with innuendo. “If you'd like to stay the night I'll be sure to show you how grateful I am.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Yeah, right,” she said dismissively, giving him a forced smile.

“I might need protecting in bed. Is leaving a risk you're willing to take?”

“Goodnight, Survivor.” She disappeared in a cloud of smoke and he was left alone wishing desperately that he could tell her how much he really wanted her. He may have been unmasked but he was still disguising himself around her.

Considering how tired he was, sleep should have come easily. He knew that he needed to be on top form to live through a confrontation with Gold. But the memories of his days of torture were there every time he closed his eyes. Late into the night he tossed and turned, consumed by anxiety.

The beast took such pleasure from his pain that despite the cavalier attitude that he maintained with the Nevengers, he was nervous about his fate. He didn't want to get lost in such worries, but Gold’s vindictiveness was limitless and he had escaped from him. He shuddered to think what might happen if he fell into Gold’s clutches again.

He tried to force thoughts of his ordeal from his mind. When that didn't work he remembered the moments when he felt like Emma was with him.

Emma.

He'd say she must be worried sick, but, no, she thought he'd disappeared on a trip. He couldn't blame her for that, Regina could be very convincing and she was used to being abandoned.

A terrible thought struck him. If something were to happen to him, he would be just another name on the list of people who abandoned her.

He had to talk to her, she had to know his secrets before their mission, she had to know that he wouldn't leave willingly.

He almost lept to his feet in his eagerness to confess. Perhaps if he told her, she would permit him to hold her tonight and draw comfort from her presence. He might actually get the sleep he so desperately needed. But it was too early to bother her for his own selfish reasons and deep down he knew that if he woke up with her in his arms he wouldn't ever let her go. He'd happily let the world burn if she consented to be his. She deserved better, The Saviour had taught him better.

No, he would call her tomorrow, before their mission. Perhaps the conversation would be better in person, but respect for The Saviour’s protection - and the certainty that he wouldn't be strong enough to leave Emma if he saw her - meant a phone call would have to suffice. If he were to be captured again, at least she would truly know how much he had cared.

With the decision made he was able to fall asleep, dreaming of holding Emma close at last.

He checked his watch, not long until The Saviour came to collect him. He really hadn’t meant to leave this until the last minute, but he’d overslept. He scrubbed his hand through his hair in distress. Maybe telling her now, over the phone, when he had so little time to talk wasn’t the best plan.

But when he considered the possibility that he may end the day back in Gold’s lab - or worse - he knew he had to make the call.

He picked up his phone and hit Emma's number. He gathered his courage as the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Morning, Swan. Did you miss me?” He winced at his own forced bravado.

“I. Um. I...”

His heart fell at her spluttering. “Oh, I see, didn't even notice I was gone?”

“No! I noticed! I…”

He closed his eyes, what was he teasing her for? It wasn't fair and he didn't have time for it. “You know, that doesn't really matter. I called to explain where I've been.”

“You weren't on vacation?” There was a strange note to her voice that he couldn't explain.

“No. You see, I'm - I'm Hook, or The Survivor, depending on who you ask.” He paused to see if she would react but was met with nothing but silence. “I know it's a lot to take in, but I didn't abandon you, Emma. I was. Well. I was captured. I would never deliberately leave you without a word, I couldn't do that to you. I know you're good at knowing when someone is lying to you, so please believe me.”

His words came out in a rush and he was tense, waiting for her verdict.

“I do. Believe you, that is.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you -”

“Why are you telling me now?”

“I'm off to save the world, it's a dangerous job. I'm sure you understand.”

“Yeah, but. Don't you do that a lot?”

“Been keeping up on my alter ego's exploits? You're not a superhero groupie, are you? I remember the time I caught you reading that magazine article about me.”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “I just want to know why this time is different.”

Because I'm scared. Because I could save the world but lose you. Because I don't know what Gold will do to me this time. “I just want to be honest with you.”

“Well I -” Killian's Nevengers phone beeped. Right, showtime.

“Sorry to cut you off, but I have to go. We can talk when I'm back.”

“OK…” He was about to hang up when he heard a small “Killian?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't disappear again.”

“As you wish,” he replied with a chuckle. If only it were that easy.

“I mean it, come back to me.”

His eyes softened at the sincere request. He wished that he were with her, he wanted to kiss her so badly. After. He'd kiss her when he returned with no secrets and no lies between them. “Of course, Swan, you don't need to fret, I'm The Survivor.”

“Good,” she said simply and hung up.

He stared at his phone for a minute, stunned by how easy that had been. God, why hadn't he just told her sooner? He turned off his phone and slid it into his bedside table, his first mission of the day completed.

Now all that was left was saving the world.

***

Emma slumped into a couch in HQ, she was exhausted and should really go to bed. But she was too wired to do that, and suspected it would be a long time before she'd be able to stop fidgeting.

At very least, she needed to stay for long enough to know if Killian was alright. There was no chance that she could relax as long as she had the thought that he might still be in pain niggling away at her.

“You did good, Saviour.” She turned to see Henry dropping down beside her and gave him an unsure smile. “Seriously. You saved your man, you can sleep now.”

“He's not my man.” Her reply was automatic, but the words made her heart clench painfully. She hated how true that was.

“Right,” Henry chuckled, “so we're just going to pretend that you don't have to just say the word and you'd be together? It’s a choice. Not one I’d go with, but it’s a choice.”

Emma barely registered his words, drumming her hand against the couch beside her. Sparks flew as she hit the surface harder and harder. She didn't even notice until Henry put his hand over hers. She looked up at him, feeling a wave of guilt as she noticed the grimace that crossed his face. She'd hurt him and she felt like a monster.

“I'm sorry, Henry!” she blurted out.

“It's nothing.” She frowned at him, highly skeptical that that could be true. “What's wrong, Saviour?”

“You really think he's going to be OK? Killian - I mean, TS?”

He shrugged. “Sure, he's invulnerable, isn't he?”

“Yeah.” She chewed on her lip.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Gold can block powers, can’t he? Or take them away altogether? What if he does that to Killian?”

“I have something to say that you maybe aren’t going to want to hear.” Emma looked at him. “Gold had The Survivor - or did you say his name’s Killian?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, he had Killian for three days. Three days. He could have easily done all those things you just mentioned in that time, but he didn’t. I think Gold needs him alive for some reason.”

“But he could still hurt him!”

“He could. And if he does, you’ll save him. That’s what you do, right?”

“I guess.”

“Hey, stop that. What do they call you?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. What do they call you?”

“The Saviour.”

“And why do they call you that?”

“I told them I’d wipe them all out with my powers if they didn’t.” He cocked his head at her and quirked a brow. “They nailed me to a cross.” He sighed. “OK, because I save people.”

“Right, so it turns out that The Survivor, who you have some kind of weird romantic thing with, is this guy Killian, who also seems to be special to you, and you expect me to believe that you wouldn’t march right down into the underworld itself if that’s what it would take to save him? Come on, have a little faith in yourself.”

She was about to answer when Belle’s voice rang out over her phone. “Saviour, can you meet me in the hospital bay?”

“Sure thing.” She smiled at Henry. “Thanks for the pep talk it, er, it helped.”

She poofed herself into the hospital bay and was confronted by the sight of Belle with bloody sheets in her arms.

She closed her eyes in disgust, that was his blood. Killian’s blood. Killian's blood had painted the sheets crimson. God, how much had he been through?

“Deep breath, Saviour. You're glowing.” Emma opened her eyes and was surprised to find Belle stood before her. The sheets had vanished and she had her hands on Emma's shoulders. She watched her intently.

Emma could see herself surrounded by a near-blinding aura reflected in Belle’s eyes. She worked on breathing in and out, noticing as the light dimmed and eventually disappeared entirely.

“Killian's OK.” Emma's scepticism must have been written all over her face. “I can give you the full medical prognosis if you like?”

“Wow, you're a doctor too?”

“Well, I read a book.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “I absorb skills from them remember?”

Emma shook her head, smiling. “How are you not running the world?”

“Patriarchy.”

“You and Beyoncé will fix that soon I'm sure. So, what did you want?”

“The Survivor explained The Dark One's plan -”

“How does he know it?”

“He was monologuing.” Belle rolled her eyes. “Classic super villain crap. Anyway we need to act fast and we need Regina fighting for us again -”

“But she's under his control.”

“I've created a device that should be able to counteract the effects of the Dagger, the A.C.E. -”

“Ace?” Emma pulled a face at the stupidity of the name.

“Anti Control Equipment?” Belle shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “The name doesn’t matter. Until we know if it's worked we'll have to play it safe - treat Regina with caution and keep her away from Killian.”

Emma's skin crawled at this mention of Killian her magic writhing in alarm.

“Wait, you think she'd hurt Killian? But.. but.. why would she do that? She couldn't do that, right?”

“Hopefully not, but I don't like to assume - Gold always had it in for Killian and now that he's escaped.. Well, best case scenario she takes him back to Gold.”

“And what's the worst?”

Belle couldn't look her in the eye. “Well, she - she kills him for Gold.”

Emma looked stunned at the thought. “But she can't do that, right? I mean he's - he can't be killed, right?”

“It's not a risk I'm willing to take.” Belle looked grim and Emma's heart beat wildly at the thought. Belle looked down at Emma's hand and she was surprised to note that her skin was glowing. But then, she shouldn't have been surprised, her magic always threatened to revolt when Killian's safety came into question. When she looked back up to Belle’s eyes she was watching Emma cautiously, but shook herself and got straight back to business. “The plan is that we tell her that we need to run tests using a holding cell to work out if I can counteract the forcefield on Gold’s base with a device I've made. We know it’s actually the A.C.E. and that it should actually break Gold’s power over her… Well, that's the idea anyway."

Emma tried to keep her breathing steady to avoid completely losing her cool. She didn't really understand what she had to do with this plan. "What do you need me for Belle?" she asked as evenly as she could muster.

"We tell Regina that I'll run tests on both of you but really you're there to back me up. If anything does go wrong I'm going to need your help."

Emma thought of Killian lying on that table. She knew it wasn't actually Regina's fault; that she had been a weapon that Gold had wielded against them; that she was likely to be as angry as them all - if not more so after being used as a puppet. But still, she had years of suffering at Regina's hands in the office and off clearing up the Evil Queen's messes, it was hard not to let the weight of that get to her. She thought of all the times Regina had told her off in her dismissive and icy way - the one that made it clear that she didn't think Emma was worthy of her time - and she felt the rage bubbling up inside.

“You're happy for me to do whatever it takes to stop her if she goes all Evil Queen on us?”

“Saviour, I'm counting on it.”

“Great so when are w-” Emma broke off as the room filled with purple smoke that surely signalled Regina's impending arrival. Belle’s eyes widened in alarm. If she was here early it could only mean one thing: Gold had sent her.

The sudden fear in Emma joined forces with her anger, leaving her itching for a fight.

The mist around her was thinning and it was clear that Regina had come alone, if she had come for a fight she would have brought her minions. Gold clearly needed her to play double agent - so she needed to think everything was well.

Emma took a quiet, calming breath, soothing her magic even as it hissed with rage at the unwelcome sight.

“Regina! I was just about to call you,” Belle said with a smile. “I have great news: I have invented a device, the A.C.E. -” Regina raised her eyebrows at the name, Emma had to cough to suppress a laugh. Belle ignored both of them. “- that will allow us to keep our powers in any conditions. It'll mean that we can all infiltrate Gold’s HQ instead of just you and The Survivor when we have a second run at that mission.”

“I'm glad to see that you have found something useful to do.”

Emma frowned at Regina. Even when she was supposed to be on their side she still found a way to undermine her fellow superheroes. Who hurt you? she found herself wondering - not for the first time.

“I'd like your help running some tests on the A.C.E..” Belle carried on as if Regina hadn't been an insulting mix of patronising and dismissive. Emma marvelled at her ability to stay calm in the face of such a slight. “Regina, I'd like you to transport the two of us to our holding cell, Emma, you come alone. You shouldn't be able to get in assuming that the forcefield is working correctly.”

“Are you testing me, bookworm?”

“Merely checking that our defences are working so we know for sure whether the A.C.E. has worked or if our forcefield was just down.” Belle’s tone was still polite but her clenched jaw betrayed her irritation with Regina.

“Fine.” Regina took Belle’s hand and they vanished in a cloud of purple smoke.

Emma sighed with relief, she had taken the bait. She closed her eyes and attempted to poof herself to the cell. She had the strange feeling of knocking into something hard, she bounced off it and landed in a heap on the floor. She looked up, Regina arched a brow at her, but contented herself with shaking her head.

Emma's eyes narrowed and a childish image of using her powers to fly pencils at Regina while she ran away shrieking, her trademark composure gone. She smiled at the thought. Many a brutal dressing down at work had been survived only thanks to such visions.

“Have either of you seen Hook?”

The question brought Emma’s attention back to the here and now - and she was startled to see that Regina was already in the holding cell, with the door shut tight behind her.

“Not since last Tuesday,” said Belle.

“Same.” Emma narrowed her eyes at Regina. So, Gold sent her to find Killian. “Why?”

“Wanted to reschedule our reconnaissance mission after we had to cancel on Wednesday - unless you’d prefer it if we gave up on defeating The Dark One altogether?”

Strange how I can’t tell that’s a lie, Emma thought to herself. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t know she’s lying? Whatever the reason for her failure to detect the lie with Regina in her current state, it made her uneasy. She was too easy to manipulate if her power had loopholes - especially ones that she didn’t even know about.

And people get hurt when your powers fail, hissed the little devil inside who was always there to remind her of her shortcomings. Nothing bad would’ve happened to Killian if your powers worked properly.

“... Shall we get started?” Once again Emma had lost the train of conversation. She was too tired for this. She had to focus on the task at hand - getting Regina back to her usual sassy but helpful self.

“I’m ready,” said Regina in answer to Belle. She had her arms folded across her chest and she looked bored.

Belle took out the A.C.E., it looked just like a sleek retractable pen. Emma grinned, impressed by the old school spy vibe the design gave the A.C.E. “Nice one, Q.”

“Thanks.” Belle grinned, clearly pleased with her handiwork.

“What exactly am I meant to - oh.” While Regina talked, Belle had pointed the A.C.E. at her and clicked the button. Emma watched as her expression transformed from disinterested to confused to downright horrified. “Oh God. Hook. What have I done?” She walked up to the thick glass separating them and looked desperately from Belle to Emma. “Please tell me that he’s OK. I didn’t mean to - I really am trying to change.”

“We know. Gold used the Dagger on you, didn’t he?” Belle asked and she nodded in reply. “The Survivor is recovering.” She looked unconvinced. “He's OK, Regina. I promise.”

“Gold is furious. If I found him here I was to bring him straight back. He's got half his minions out looking for him.”

“You'd better get back to him then - we'll be meeting later to discuss strategy. We need to move quickly. I'll let you know when.”

Regina nodded, flicked her wrist and nothing happened. She looked at her hand in confusion and tried again. Emma smirked, taking childish glee from the sight.

“Regina?” Belle said, “you're in a cell that blocks powers. I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk you being on the loose if the A.C.E. didn't work.”

Regina huffed and walked to the door, Belle hit a button and it sprang open, she stepped outside and with a curt nod to each of them, disappeared.

“So, what now?” Emma asked Belle.

“Tea?”

Emma nodded. “As long as we can just act like I didn't discover Gold doing his crazy scientist routine on my best friend, who bizarrely turns out to be the superhero I fight crime with. I will pay good money to talk about literally anything else.”

Belle laughed. “Don't worry, we don't have to have a deep and meaningful conversation, I'll settle for tea and silence if that's all you want.”

“Then let's do this.”

Emma should really have been paying attention to the mission talk, but she was exhausted, still reeling from the night's revelation and following traumatic events. She contributed and she did take in all the important details: Gold had a very important event the following morning and they should take advantage of his absence to infiltrate his HQ. They just needed to find his Dagger - the original - and then they'd be able to control him. And they were going to use that control to make him use his own weapons against himself and remove his own powers.

So, of course, Henry had deemed the mission Operation Kryptonite.

Speaking of Henry, the news that he was going to have to go into the field with them didn't sit right with her - or Killian or Regina apparently. (She would wonder at the Evil Queen's attachment to Henry, if she didn't know him to be charming, funny and - most importantly - friendly to all - despite the potty mouth.)

She knew that she herself had left home at 16 and was in no position to judge; but a bit of shoplifting and sleeping in a stolen car were hardly as dangerous as going up against the most evil super villain she'd ever encountered. She saw Henry as the brother she never had and the thought of him in danger brought out a maternal side to her that she was surprised to discover she had. Somehow she'd assumed being abandoned at just a few hours old meant any motherly impulses she might have otherwise had were forcibly removed by the trauma. It was nice to know that she was wrong about that.

Still, her nerves over Henry's hands-on involvement were nothing to the dread that filled her when the time came to leave.

“I still don’t know about you leaving here today, Killian.”

Emma's heart clenched at the implications of Belle’s words. She had a sudden vision of Killian strapped to that table - a violent image that was so much worse than any horror her anxiety had conjured up in the months since she'd realised that she loved him and that she had to keep her distance to keep him safe - and almost vomited at the thought.

Protect him, her magic hissed at her, for she knew if anything bad were to happen to him she would surely die herself.

Funny how learning her best friend - the man she loved - was invulnerable had done nothing to ease her anxiety over his safety. If anything, knowing how much danger he was in on a nightly basis compounded that fear, knowing that the snark and swagger of The Survivor was hiding Killian's soft heart filled her with a dreadful sense of foreboding that she could not shake.

Yes, he should stay here where he would be safe. Possibly even in the holding cell where no powers could penetrate. Oh. Of course he didn't want to be locked up again, not even for his own safety.

Especially not for his own safety, Emma thought bitterly.

“I'm not sleeping here tonight.”

“I'll poof you out.” The words were out of her mouth before she had chance to think twice. Yes, if she took him home, she could make sure he was safe. If she didn't, he'd only do something dumb like try to sneak out. Unless they literally locked him in that cell - and tempting though that was, she couldn't trap him like that after what he'd just been through.

She tried not to notice when Killian looked at her with surprise and confusion. “Come again?”

“I can - I can poof you out.” She quickly averted her eyes from him, not trusting herself to not break down over her worry about him, and instead looked at Belle. “You're worried about him being seen? If I take TS home he won't be. Can do a few spells to keep him safe and I'll bring him back here in the morning.”

She glanced at Killian before looking back to Belle with a shrug, trying not to give away how much she wanted to do this. How much she needed to.

“If you wanted to spend the night in my bed, you only have to ask. I'm sure we'll need to use - I mean, I need to have, protection.” She had expected the innuendo, but couldn’t help but roll her eyes all the same. She avoided looking at him so he wouldn’t see how much part of her was longing to take him up on his offer.

If she stayed with him, she would have to tell him who she was and she couldn't do that. She'd come so close to losing him and they weren't even together. No, if she succumbed to her desire he would surely be doomed to die. Even allowing him to get as close to her as he was had clearly been risky.

“Whatever, I'll do the spells and run.”

To her surprise he dropped the innuendo completely. “Well? Can I be released? I'm sure if Gold really wants me dead it won't matter where I sleep.”

“Fine, but seriously, let The Saviour protect you, okay?” Belle replied.

He turned to Emma and held out his hand. “Come now, love, my life is in your hands.”

She reached out and took his hand, poofing them into his apartment in a cloud of pure white magic. She felt the reassuring warmth of his hand in hers, absent-mindedly stroking the back of his hand with her fingers.

When she realised what she was doing she dropped his hand and stepped away from him. Feeling a blush rising in her cheeks at what she’d just done, she briskly moved onto business. “I'll just set up some protection spells.”

“Thanks. And I'll... I'll be in my room. Checking my phone. Seeing if I was missed.”

She winced as the thought of the message he had waiting from her came to mind. She was a little ashamed of how angry she had been with him - and to think he’d been suffering while she’d been sending him snide texts.

She busied herself with casting every protective charm, enchantment and magical barrier she knew. The only way she could be any more certain of his safety would be to spend the night, and that just wasn’t an option.

At last, when she’d reached the limits of her knowledge, she took a deep breath and looked in on Killian in his room.

“Um, TS?” He was holding his phone and looking exhausted and sad. Her heart ached for him in that moment. She wanted to comfort him - but she wasn’t sure if she should. “I'm finished. I should probably go.”

“Thanks. If you'd like to stay the night I'll be sure to show you how grateful I am.” The banter was there, but his delivery was off. He looked hopeless and unhappy - what he really needed was sleep, not an uncomfortable night with her.

“Yeah, right.” She meant to sound breezy - teasing him in their usual way - but the air was heavy with their exhaustion and the weight of saving the world was sitting heavy on her soul.

“I might need protecting in bed. Is leaving a risk you're willing to take?”

She was sure that the note of desperation she thought she heard in his voice was just a projection of her own desires. “Goodnight, Survivor,” she said and poofed into her living room, abruptly ending their conversation before he could persuade her to stay. She longed to go back to him, but a voice inside whispered that she was doing what she needed to do to keep the man she loved safe. She crumpled into a heap on the floor and sobbed.

She spent her night fretting until at some point exhaustion claimed her and she dreamt of being wrapped in Killian’s embrace. When she awoke at last she was surprised to see that he wasn’t there and she found herself feeling terribly alone.

She moved sluggishly, eating pop tarts and drinking coffee in quantities that she knew would make Killian wince if he were here. She tried not to think about the fact that she could be spending the morning with him, if only she were a little braver - or a lot more selfish.

There was just a few minutes to go before she had to collect Killian when her phone rang. She groaned and looked down at it and was surprised to see his face grinning up at her on the screen.

Talk about bad timing - why is he calling when we have to go save the world in a minute?

“Hello?” she asked, utterly confused.

“Morning, Swan. Did you miss me?” It was disconcerting how normal he was being. What on earth was going on?

“I. Um. I...” she stammered, not knowing how to react.

“Oh, I see,” his voice sounded small, “didn't even notice I was gone?”

“No!” Emma blurted out in horror, this was the worst conversation ever and they really didn’t have time for this shit. “I noticed! I…”

“You know, that doesn't really matter,” he cut her off. “I called to explain where I've been.”

Her heart stopped. Was he about to unmask himself to her? Oh God, he was. She felt like an even bigger asshole for not telling him the truth about herself already, but they just didn’t have the time. “You weren't on vacation?” she said, hoping she sounded cool.

“No. You see, I'm - I'm Hook, or The Survivor, depending on who you ask.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! she screamed internally. You have to tell him now, you have to. “I know it's a lot to take in, but I didn't abandon you, Emma. I was. Well. I was captured. I would never deliberately leave you without a word, I couldn't do that to you. I know you're good at knowing when someone is lying to you, so please believe me.”

“I do. Believe you, that is.” because I’m The Saviour. Surprise! God that sounded lame, but she had to tell him. You have to protect him, whispered another voice. She was too confused to handle this right now.

“Thank you -”

She felt irrationally angry at him for springing this on her. “Why are you telling me now?”

“I'm off to save the world, it's a dangerous job. I'm sure you understand.”

“Yeah, but. Don't you do that a lot?” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice. He was her best friend and she should care about him revealing this to her. She was a terrible person.

“Been keeping up on my alter ego's exploits? You're not a superhero groupie, are you? I remember the time I caught you reading that magazine article about me.”

She rolled her eyes - trust him to bring that up at a time like this. “I just want to know why this time is different,” she pressed.

“I just want to be honest with you.”

Fuck.

She had to be brave and do the same. She could be honest with him, this was Killian, her Survivor, her best friend, her love.

“Well I -” her Nevengers phone beeped, sparks crackled from her fingertips as her frustration swelled.

“Sorry to cut you off, but I have to go. We can talk when I'm back.”

“OK…” She knew she couldn’t tell him the truth now, but she couldn’t send him off like that. “Killian?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't disappear again.”

“As you wish,” he replied with a laugh. She could hear the strain to stay confident and upbeat in his voice.

“I mean it, come back to me.”

“Of course, Swan, you don't need to fret, I'm The Survivor.”

“Good.” She hung up and sighed deeply, that was the best she could offer him in that moment. Tears pricked at her eyes as she tried to soothe her emotions, which had been frayed to near breaking point by the conversation.

Her phone continued to beep. She jabbed at it to shut it up. She had a sudden moment of clarity. She knew what she had to do.

She poofed into Killian’s apartment.

“Ready to -” she strode up to him, grabbed him and kissed him, cutting him off mid sentence.

It was brief, but the feel of his lips hot and wet against hers was enough to send her heart racing and make her feel light headed. She was delighted to see that he looked every bit as awestruck as she did.

“For luck,” she breathed. “When all this is over, we really need to talk.”

He nodded, gazing at her in wonder. “Of course.”

She smiled, knowing she’d done the right thing. One look like that from him and she felt ready to conquer the world - and all she had to do was defeat The Dark One.

She took his hand. They were going to save the world. Together.

Thanks for reading guys! If you liked it, why not buy me a coffee?

Here’s some people who’ve asked to be tagged - give me a shout if you do/not want to be included!

@artandteaandstuff @bleebug @wishbonekarou @nfbagelperson @timeless-love-story @suqarysweet @sammyjo16 @krystalsficpage @the-woman-in-12b @the-fandom-avenger @lenfaz @natascha-remi-ronin @hookaddict @buckle-some-swash @cat-sophia @lepidochelys-kempii @vannawecht @wickedcarrieann @captainswansettingsail @xfalseadvertisingknucleheadsx @oncedreamerhere @a-fictional-life @kmomof4 @teresalisbon @tiganasummertree

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #captain swan fanfiction #katie dub writes #the masks we wear #chapter 10

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pixelgrotto · 7 years

Photo

"Don’t give up, Senua”

Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice is one of those games that’s hard to view objectively if you’re up-to-date with video game trends. It came out about a month ago and is currently an industry darling for combining the thoughtful nature and affordable price point of indie games with the big-budget look of AAA games. It’s effectively brought back the concept of the “mid-tier” title, something that existed before the PS3 and Xbox 360 era, when the cost of developing games suddenly became too expensive for most companies to aim for anything less than the returns yielded by mainstream blockbusters. It’s finally won wholehearted praise for developer Ninja Theory, who produced a reboot of Devil May Cry four years ago which attracted so many whiners that Capcom now seems determined to forget that it ever existed. (A mistake, if you ask me.) And most importantly, Hellblade has garnered recognition for its earnest and extensive portrayal of psychosis. Ninja Theory dared to create a game starring a protagonist who suffers from acute mental illness, and thanks to input from neuroscientists and actual psychosis patients, they pulled it off respectfully, to the point where Mental Health America had approving words.

All of this is great, and made me wanna check the game out ASAP even though I’ve got a ton of other things on my backlog. After my first couple hours, though, I realized that there were actually a lot of things that I didn’t like about Hellblade, which made me feel sorta guilty. I’m all for criticizing critical darlings if I find them overrated, but Hellblade’s very existence was doing so many wonderful things for the industry that it seemed unfair of me to have anything less than gushing praise. So I continued playing until the conclusion of Senua’s 10 hour journey, wondering if my opinions would change. And they partially did. In the end, I’ll say that Hellblade deserves to be played by as many people as possible - though there were several occasions where I found the experience clunky and even painful. Even though it’s mostly been promoted as a third-person action adventure, Hellblade is really a psychological horror game, and the premise makes me think of a Celtic version of Silent Hill. Senua is a Pict warrior trying to enter Hel to free the soul of her murdered lover, and because she has multiple voices raging in her head and can’t stop hallucinating, there’s some discrepancy over how much of her journey is actually “real.” A discussion on reality is pointless, however, because the ordeal of the quest is real to Senua, and it soon feels real to the player too, especially as the game stealthily weaves the multiple voices of Senua’s mind in and out of your ears thanks to surround sound. Then there are the hallucinations that you’re forced to endure, many of which manifest by changing the environment. One particularly unpleasant hallucination turns Senua’s surroundings into a blood-soaked realm filled with human hands all gripping for her flesh, and it’s heavy stuff. There’s a high probability that playing through Hellblade will be too much for a lot of people, especially those who have personally suffered from psychosis or other forms of mental illness. It was too much for me at some points, and when I call the experience “painful,” I mean that I really had to put the gamepad down every now and then or risk being overwhelmed. All of this made Hellblade an ordeal to play, but it’s perfectly okay to make players endure grimness as long as they’re invested in the characters they’re controlling and want to see things through until the end. Horror games do this all the time, and believe me, I was rooting for Senua to persevere and emerge victorious from the dungeon of her mind. Unfortunately, while grimness is one thing to endure, not-so-fun technical design decisions are another thing entirely. Hellblade typically has you doing either one of three things - 1) watching cutscenes, 2) fighting vikings, or 3) using Senua’s “focus” ability to zone in on hidden runes in the environment, which are then used to open doors and solve puzzles. This “focus” mechanic is actually meant to evoke the capability that psychotic people have to mentally restructure their surroundings, zoning in on certain details and seeing elaborate patterns in the items around them that others might be totally unaware of. While it’s admirable that Ninja Theory managed to take this and make it into a main gameplay pillar, I just didn’t find the puzzles particularly satisfying or enjoyable. All you’re really doing is wandering around looking for optical illusions, several of which are a pain to locate. Once you find ‘em, you go, “Hm, that’s neat,” open a door, and then find some more. There are a few different parts where you’ve got to traverse mini-mazes or use Senua’s focus to rebuild bridges and stairs, but mostly its just looking for runes. It’s probably a good thing that Hellblade only lasts for 10 hours, since this mechanic wouldn’t be able to sustain interest in a longer game.

I did like the combat more than the puzzle solving, and pretty much all of the screenshots above were taken during battle segments. I don’t wanna say that the game “feels like Dark Souls” (ugh), but Senua’s movements and sword swings do have a similar weight to them, and it’s satisfying to see blows connect. The only problem is the camera, which is something that really should not be an issue in a 2017 game. Senua’s just too close to the screen most of the time, and when stuck in a combat stance she lacks a fast move to create distance between herself and enemies. Because combat encounters usually take place in confined spaces with multiple foes, it’s quite possible to get stuck in a corner with your vision blocked as everybody curb-stomps you to death, and the whole thing kinda feels reminiscent of something out of an early third-person PS1 game.

These technical issues, as well as a prominent gameplay mechanic that I didn’t especially like, would keep me from giving Hellblade five out of five stars if I were reviewing it for a magazine. But I think I’d go ahead and give it three and a half stars, and I’d also earnestly proclaim that this is a game that’s still worth experiencing at least once. Why? Well, because of what it represents and encompasses - a positive portrayal of a much misunderstood disorder, an unsexualized female protagonist who strives to be heroic despite her flaws, a game that strips away all of the fat plaguing far too many modern titles and offers an intriguing alternative to teeny indies and bloated big-budget spectacles. And also because there were a few times when Hellblade, despite its problems, really clicked for me.

(Some light spoilers ahead, FYI.)

The first occasion was when a determined Senua cleared two gates blocking her from a bridge leading to Hel. When she finally steps foot on that bridge, the game kicks in with an awesome Norse-inspired backing track that really pumps up the soul. A flurry of enemies fly at Senua, and combat with them is fast and glorious, particularly since it’s on an open bridge and not the usual confined spaces where the other battles take place.

The second occasion was when Senua temporarily loses all ability to see her surroundings. Guided only by the voice of her dead lover and the fading light of a single torch, the player has to help her navigate a forested area and a cabin filled with grotesque flesh monsters just lurking in the background. It’s here that the game’s binaural audio really proves its worth. You can hear the monsters, but you can’t really see them, and the dread is intense. Then there’s a part where Senua has to move through a series of corridors that all look the same, and every time she makes an error and ends up travelling in circles, the muses in her mind laugh at her with frightening ferocity, creating surreal feelings of claustrophobia, confusion and frustration - perhaps the closest the game ever gets to actually emulating the experience of living with voices constantly inside your head. And the third occasion was at the very end, when Senua faces Hela and her minions in a final battle to the haunting ambiance of a really incredible song by Passarella Death Squad. Not only is the song the perfect accompaniment for the desperation of this finale, but this is the moment in the game where Senua’s mastered the voices in her head - at least temporarily - and forced them to work together in harmony. While the voices have always chimed in during combat to serve as a kind of “second sense” for Senua, warning her when enemies are about to strike from behind, they’ve usually done so in a denigrating way. This conclusion, however, sees the voices finally acknowledging Senua’s worth and encouraging her onwards. “You can do this, Senua.” “Behind you, Senua.” “Look out, Senua.” All of these are gentle whispers rather than the normal cackles and cacophony, and the end result feels like poetry in motion as you press buttons in a pulsating attempt to overcome both Hela and Senua’s inner madness. It’s cathartic, it’s a darn good ending and it makes the game feel worthwhile.

That, in a nutshell, is Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice. Highly imperfect, but also highly worthwhile. I probably won’t ever play this game again, and I’m not sure if I’ll be checking for its sequel...but I am glad that it was made. Both the electronic entertainment industry and the mental health community deserve something like this, and I’m perfectly comfortable with saying that Hellblade deserves all of the attention it’s been getting. Even if it wasn’t 100% my cup of tea. All screenshots taken by yours truly using Hellblade’s photo mode.

#pixel grotto #video games #now playing #hellblade #hellblade senua's sacrifice #ninja theory

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