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swanandapirate · 5 years

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A Muted Hue of Grey (11/14) -- CSBB

Summary: Emma Swan liked being a PI in Boston. It was a fun job, she had an okay income and she was a good one at that, so there was no logical reason to try and leave. Except for the fact that she wanted to, so badly. And, when she received a job offer for what seemed to be the opportunity of a lifetime, she did exactly that. Leave. Run. All the way to London. The job was simple: trailing a man called Killian Jones. Easy enough.

Well, until things get complicated, that is.

Rating: M (mentions of violence, previous mentions of alcohol abuse,and sex)

Wordcount: 4000

Links: ao3 // ff.net // spotify chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // chapter 10

A/N: Would you look at that another week has passed and we're back! Thanks to my betas @acourtoftruelove and @ofshipsandswans and my lovely artist Sophie @shady-swan-jones for making this art (ch 1 // ch 2 // ch 5 // ch 7 )

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“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Killian’s sleeping form. “I have to do this even though you’re probably going to hate me afterward. There’s no other way.”

She crouched in front of the bed, leveling her eyes with his closed ones. She yearned to touch his face but didn’t dare to; he could not wake up. It would ruin everything. Her head dropped, her forehead burrowing into the grey sheets adorned with small blue anchors. He’d apologized for them as they lay catching their breath, slowly getting down from the high they experienced. The sheets had been another incentive. He was innocent. Gold was the bad guy in this situation.

Which is why he needed to be eliminated.

So that they at least had a chance of a peaceful life. They stood a chance in life. The world would be a better place without him; Killian would still have a brother if he’d never encountered Gold. He would’ve had a different life, one without so much heartbreak and sorrow. She couldn’t fix that but at least she could make sure Gold’s reign of terror ended.

Her eyes fell on Killian’s sleeping form one last time, attempting to print the image of him into her mind, looking at every detail, every aspect of him in the darkened room. She was doing this for the greater good. Maybe she was ruining everything that they had, but how else would it stop? How else could she live with herself knowing all that she’d done wrong. It didn’t matter if she was putting herself in a dangerous situation, all that mattered was keeping him from harm. She was finally fighting instead of running away, finally facing the issue instead of sweeping it under the rug and ignoring its presence there.

She felt a demanding presence of tears in her eyes and willed them to go away, to not make this even harder than it already was. To not make this as much as a goodbye as it was. She should get going, they were getting closer and closer to sunrise and she was losing precious time. Not to mention that Killian had said he was an early riser, the last thing she needed was him waking up to her fully-dressed, sitting next to his bed with tears in her eyes. That would only lead to questions she did not want to answer. This was her only shot, her only chance to make a clean cut. So she had to go.

She got off of her knees, her bare feet slowly tiptoeing backward while she kept looking at him, his chest still steadily rising and falling, his expression without a care in the world. He’d thought they were able to solve it. They hadn’t talked a lot but she knew that Killian was planning to do so in the morning, attempting to clear the air to see if they could move forward, move past this. Emma knew they couldn’t. She had to be realistic and if there was one thing Emma Swan was good at, it was being realistic. And running.

The door was still half open before her hand pushed, changing the crack to a wide opening.

“I love you,” she said in the faintest of whispers, almost not loud enough for herself to hear.

The door closed again and so her view of Killian was obstructed. One stubborn tear fell in spite of her efforts to keep the tears at bay. Quickly, she used her thumb to flick the droplet away, letting out a big breath as she went in search of her shoes.

It had been some time since she last uttered those words, a long time even. Since Neal. Killian deserved more, deserved someone who would tell him they loved him every day with so much ease and actually mean it. Not her, who already struggled with saying it in the dark and in the middle of the night while he was asleep.

She just had to say it once. Finally voice the sentence that had popped up every time he smiled at her and crinkles formed around his eyes, every time he’d sent her soccer memes, every time he seemed to know exactly what she needed to a point where she wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t a telepath.

She loved him.

It was different from when she was with Neal. She was younger then, more innocent and carefree and Neal had seemed like the perfect guy for her. Even though they didn’t truly know each other. They had lived in their own secluded world, a bubble filled with running and hiding, never really being able to catch their breath to talk about more than where they were going next.

It was different from when she was with Killian, drastically so.

It was real with Killian. So real. Which was why this hurt so much.

The lock of the front door clicked behind her. Emma stood still, glancing over her shoulder one last time, pretending she somehow had X-ray vision and could see him a final time. But in reality, all she could see was a dark, wooden door, a separation between the both of them.

She took the hood of her sweater and put it over her head before running down the stairs. She pushed the entrance door open and her skin was hit with the cold night air. There was not a soul in sight, it was the ghost hour. Slightly too late for people to still be awake, slightly too early for people to have woken already.

Emma began to walk. She’d only been in his office once; it was now months since Gold had made her sign the contract, that damned contract. After that one meeting, it had been dark corners and shady alleys, anything but highly frequented public spaces, anywhere but places where they could be seen, could be connected to one another. She didn’t expect Gold to be there right now, it was the middle of the night after all, but perhaps she could find a clue, some sort of indication where she could find him. An address, a phone number, something that would lead her to him. That was what she was focusing on right now, the rest could come later.

The street lit up with the lights of an oncoming bus and she turned her head, inspecting the line number before rushing towards the bus stop a few yards ahead, extending her hand while running to signal the driver to stop. The vehicle came to a halt and she hopped up, managing a tight-lipped smile in gratitude towards the woman. The bus was completely empty save from one man in the complete back of the bus, lost to the world as a soft snore blended with the roar of the engine. Emma picked the middle ground, the precise spot between the driver and sleeping beauty in the back, to sit down.

She let her head rest against the window, her eyes trying to register the fast-moving scene outside. The flashing lights were bright, too bright for her two-hour-of-sleep brain to handle, so she shut them. Her heart began to speed up in fear. Of how it all would end, whether it ever would. A shaking breath left her lips. Her hand went up to pinch the bridge of her nose, fingers brushing along what Emma would assume were some award-winning dark bags under her eyes.

It was too late to back down now.

Her eyes opened again, the fear dwindling as determination prospered.

She was doing this.

It took the bus a few additional minutes before they arrived at the stop closest to Gold’s office and when she more or less saw the familiar surroundings, distorted by the dark but still recognizable enough, a ding alerted the bus driver of her desire to get off. The woman complied, slowly braked and eventually stopped the bus, allowing Emma to leave.

If she remembered correctly, the office should be about a ten-minute walk from the bus stop. The lack of sunlight was not helping, however, and was only contributing to disorienting her even more. Time for the return of Google Maps, it was.

Due to one wrong turn, it took her slightly longer to reach the building than the navigation system had predicted, but she didn’t particularly mind. Reaching her destination was all that mattered.

The building wasn’t impressive as such, just your typical two-story building with a storefront on the ground floor and a side entrance that led to apartments—or an office in this case—upstairs. She knew, however, that this was a deliberate choice. It looked easy and simple enough to break in but, knowing Gold, it would not be. There would be some hidden trap. He used this tactic when it came to his contracts—make them seem agreeable enough only have some hidden clause—and Emma knew he’d do it here as well. She needed to be cautious.

It had been a while since she’d last done this, since she’d lived off of petty crime and had no qualms with it. She was now on the right side of the law, barely, but at least she hadn’t done anything downright illegal in the last ten years.

Making sure the hoodie over her head truly covered her features, Emma went inside. She immediately spied a camera pointed at the entrance and she bowed her head, avoiding a flash of her skin to be recorded on the tape.

Out of her pocket, she fished two bobby pins, using her teeth to straighten them out and turn them into tumblers. She crouched in front of the door, eyes close to the lock to inspect it, to try and figure it out while she shone the pocket light of her phone on it. She softly inserted one of the pins, her ears searching for any sound that was out of place. If she got caught like this, it was over. No one would believe she was just coincidentally trying to pick a lock. The second pin joined its companion in an intricate dance, one where every step had to be precise and correct. Shutting her eyes, she let her ears take over. After a couple of seconds of wriggling, a satisfying click brought movement to the door.

She was in.

The door creaked open, granting her passage to her single greatest enemy’s lair, giving her access to his treasures and secrets.

Emma had to be realistic, however. The chances that she’d be able to find some incriminating proof against Gold in here would be minimal. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack and she had no idea what a needle looked like. She also knew that that wyrm of a man would find a way to escape the accusations, to put the blame on her instead and walk away freely. Killian had spent years attempting to prove his guilt and he’d only come up empty-handed.

She walked over to the main office, extremely cautious about everything she saw and everything she touched. She pulled on the left sleeve of her sweater and hid her hand inside to grab the handle and open the door. There lay a large carpet covering the floor and Emma hesitantly stepped on it, only letting her feet touch the places that seemed worn enough, ratty enough to have been stepped on every single day. Following the path Gold always took, she ended up at the massive desk standing in the middle of the room.

She carefully checked the sheets of paper on the desk. Nothing. Softly opened the left drawer and took out an address book that contained about a hundred addresses but his own. Nothing. In the right drawer, she could only find a collection of gold fountain pens and fancy looking paper. For his contracts, Emma thought before moving on.

There had to be something that tied back to his home or his life outside of this disreputable business he was running. What was a place she could find something that had been carelessly left? She searched around the office peering before her eyes fell on a metal paper bin which was glimmering in the bright light that her phone was emitting.

Gotcha.

Most of the paper she found in the trash was just scribbles, half printed pages of some forms, empty package boxes and Emma was about to give up, deem her only last resort useless when she came across a tiny paper. Once she picked it up she could see it was folded and as she slowly peeled back the layers, the small square became larger and larger. Her eyes scanned the paper once it was fully unfolded and came to the conclusion that it was a bill. The light on her phone got brightened until she could properly read the document. It seemed to be an order and while the delivering address was stated as this office, the billing address said something else. A sinister smile appeared on her face. She knew where to find him.

The valuable piece of paper got folded back to its original size and got stored into her back pocket as she attempted to not leave a trace of her presence there. Books were put back in their original place, papers got stacked again, drawers were closed.

Emma followed the exact steps she took back, head held low and steps quiet. The door locked behind her again and she started running. Until her breath got out of control and she felt that she truly was far enough away from the office that if some silent alarm had gone off, no one would suspect her of being the instigator.

She retrieved the paper from her back pocket and unfolded it again, this time properly reading the address in the illumination of a lonely street light. It felt completely foreign to her, so she tapped the airplane mode of her phone off and let the map guide her again.

The sky at the horizon shifted from midnight blue to azure, an indication of what was to come. There wasn’t a lot of time left.

It took her over an hour to get to the place which gave her a lot of time to think. All the while she kept repeating the mantra in her head. She had to do this. She had to do this. This was not the time to get cold feet. Not when she was so close to him. The urbanization had slowly vanished, filtered out and was infiltrated with green, a vast surface of trees and bushes, decorating the brown soil.

The sun began to rise, the previously dark woodland now dusted in the gold of dawn. The warm yellow rays hit her skin, lighting it up and while the rain dew still drifted through the air and covered the ground, she embraced the tiny fragment of heat she’d been gifted wholeheartedly.

It had to be one of the cabins that were scattered around the forest.

Having no idea which direction she was supposed to go, she could only explore. She walked around, an odd branch snapping under her shoes. The grass was long, brushing against her boots as she walked with a steady step. She was a woman on a mission.

The first cabin she came across was not even close to the cabin number she was heading for, Emma sighing at the longer search before returning to the main road, a path of worn, flat grass, and continuing her quest of finding the number that corresponded with the one typed on the bill.

She was expecting to find a locked door but still grabbed the handle with her sleeve to test it, more out of reflex than anything else. Emma frowned and surprise hit her as the handle didn’t get stuck halfway but went all the way down, granting her access to the building.

Was Gold that careless? That seemed unlike him. But who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth?

With the utmost stealth, she pushed the door open, her eyes racing to take in everything there was, to be able to prepare herself for any threat that might present itself.

It was still early enough to catch him asleep, the light still faint enough for Emma to be somewhat hidden, to be somewhat able to take advantage of the trace of darkness that still tainted the sky.

She breathed in and a musty air hit her nostrils, a stark contrast with the crisp, outside air. That air had been young, rejuvenating and the one she was currently breathing was old. It symbolized stagnance and immobility. Obsolescence.

Her nose scrunched as the scent now took complete control, but she attempted to ignore that sense and focus on the other, her eyes and ears specifically were vital here. Emma continued her venture inside, now actually stepping into the room the front door led to. Trepidation roiled in her gut, how was she supposed to react? What was she going to find inside?

Emma looked around the cabin and...

It was empty.

Not only empty but deserted. A thick layer of dust covered the table and cabinets, delicate cobwebs were spun in the corners, decorating the room like garlands. There was not a single sign someone had been here recently, not one clean surface or filled cupboard. Emma checked the other rooms but they more or less bore the same story. Filthy, empty, abandoned.

She went back to the piece of paper and the map on her phone. The blue dot on her screen glowed, telling her she was right, this was the place.

But how could it? How on earth could this neglected cabin in the woods be important to Gold?

Emma’s brow furrowed, eyes scanning the room over and over again, trying to find some clue, some passage that magically appeared after pulling a secret lever. But there was no magic to be found, no hidden treasure.

She didn't understand. He should be here. He was supposed to be here and then she could… take him out. Protect Killian. This was why she was doing this, to protect him. If she couldn’t, what was there left to do? If she couldn’t, it meant that this whole escapade had been for nothing. That she’d left him for nothing.

Fuck, what had she done?

She had to get back to Killian.

Before he woke, before he realized she’d left, before it was too late to turn back the clock. She had to run, had to rush back home.

Home.

She stopped moving, froze with her feet nailed to the dusty wooden floor, her hands limp next to her body and her eyes wide as she realized what she just thought.

Home.

She’d thought about home.

The place that gave you a warm feeling, the place you could be yourself, one hundred percent. The place where Emma was comfortable, with walls that dampened the need to run, with things that made her feel like she was a part of something, with people that made her feel loved.

And now, after a mere four months, Killian had somehow become synonymous to home?

She loved him, had admitted it earlier that morning but this meant more than that. She’d loved before. She’d never truly felt at home. An eternal orphan at heart; she was never completely at ease. Mary Margaret and David’s apartment had felt like a safe haven for some time but one she couldn’t stay at forever and had to leave after a couple of hours at most. They could tell her she was welcome anytime as much as they liked but Emma didn’t even want to come close to overstaying her welcome. So she left, ignoring the offer of another drink or dessert with some half-baked truth of having to start work early or just a plain lie like that she wasn’t that much of a Rocky Road fan anyways.

But being with Killian felt like home.

And she wasn’t about to risk that.

Emma spun around and bolted out of the cabin, the door slamming shut in her wake.

Her feet moved on instinct, taking her to the gravel road uphill, the fastest way to return the way she came. Time was of the essence here.

The sun’s rays suddenly felt too warm as she ran down the road, her jacket too impeding as she tried to run faster and faster. That gym membership she was thinking of getting would’ve come in handy right about now.

In the distance, against the backlight of the rising sun, a blurry figure emerged. The closer Emma got, the more details became visible. She still had to narrow her eyes to fight against the bright light. It was a man. A man stood in the middle of the road, blocking her way. She knew that face, recognized the long, greasy locks and grey stubble, angry sneer furling his lips.

“You.” She came to a halt. Her brow furrowed as she blinked in confusion. Gold’s minion had resurfaced. His presence here meant she was right about this being Gold’s cabin. And she hadn’t been careful enough earlier.

Or maybe this was all part of an elaborate plan and she’d done exactly what Gold had wanted her to do.

Lost in thought, Emma hadn’t noticed the man coming closer to her, his heavy steps crunching on the road as the distance between them became threateningly narrow.

“This is for last time, you bitch,” he spat at her, an odd accent coloring his words and a fist following promptly.

Emma ducked, more out of instinct than strategy, but both would do the trick here.

The seriousness of the situation hit her as if the man’s fist hadn’t missed its target. He wasn’t aiming to miss. She needed to leave and try and outrun him. In the blink of an eye, she went from immobile to moving but the man was fast too, his hand snatching her arm and harshly pulling her back. She flinched as the pain radiated through her body.

Before the sensation could leave, another wave of pain smashed into her cheek.

“Aren’t you sick of playing his little minion?”

She spit before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her chest heaved vehemently as she tried to catch her breath and regain her stamina.

“That’s who you think I am?” he replied in an irritating sneer.

She frowned at the amusement in his voice. She pushed him off, losing her balance and falling on the ground, her face ending up in the grey gravel. The small stones painfully dug into her skin. Emma scrambled back up as he towered over her.

“My name is Malcolm Gold.” And the way he said it wasn't completely unlike the way Draco Malfoy had introduced himself to Harry Potter, a self-righteous importance that hung in the air.

He seemed too old to be a son, too young to be his father, so that only left the possibility of a brother.

“And my brother sends his regards.”

He kicked her down again and for a second everything went blurry, unfocused. Her attacker turned his head to something she couldn’t see from her uncomfortable spot on the ground but it seemed to spook him enough that he cast one last glance at her, an unsatisfied look on his face, and ran away again.

What a little imp. It was clearly a family trait.

Emma coughed, clutching her ribs as breathing hurt, clutching her ribs as trying to get up hurt.

There was a crunching sound coming from somewhere close and it took Emma a while to realize it had to be some kind of car.

Was it Killian? Did he find her?

But the crunching sound left as fast as it had emerged and she was still hurting, struggling to get up from the ground.

It wasn’t him, he couldn’t find her.

She was all alone.

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You're used to it by now so I won't even comment on the cliffhanger. Please like, reblog, leave a kudos if you're enjoying this story and if you want me to love you even more, you can always leave a comment. Only seven more days until the next chapter!

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan big bang #cs au #cs mc #AMHoG #my words and sentences

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