Work Text:
Flashes of light invaded his vision, even behind his closed eyelids, and the sheet he was wrapped up in was soaked through. His eyelids fluttered, eyeballs rolling under them erratically, like he was trying to avoid something in his line of sight. Killian felt all of the hairs on his arms stand on end, followed by a rippling shiver that covered his entire body and made every muscle spasm.
The fever had developed from being in the water. Whilst sailing with his wife, Emma, they had hit turbulent waters. A freak storm in the middle of the night had rocked them both out of their hammock, their embrace broke apart by the impact with the hard, wooden floor of the boat. They had rushed out onto the deck, the crack of thunder and the flash of lightning temporarily blinding them, before a huge wave washed them over the side of their modest sized ship.
The dark seawater enveloped them as soon as they hit it, the icy water slicing their hands apart like an invisible blade, and a deep grey wave folding them over and causing them to tumble away from each other. Killian didn’t remember much after the cold set in, taking his breath and making his lungs seize in his chest. He remembered feeling a calmness, every one of his limbs limp and seemingly floating just beneath the ocean’s surface. His eyes fluttered closed and then the next thing he recalled was the steady beep of the hospital machine beside him.
He had tried to open his eyes once, but the lighting in the room was too bright and he could only make out the blurred figure at his bedside for a second before his eyelids protested too much. He knew he was safe. The warmth of the room only just touched the outside of his skin, the frigid chill from the ocean having permeated right into his bones, but the burning in his lungs had eased. All of his limbs felt heavy like they were glued to the bed, and unable to move, he simply resigned himself to staying in the indent his weight had caused in the mattress.
He felt hot, but a shiver rattled his spine, shaking every bone in his body so painfully he thought he might expire right where he lay on the sodden sheets. The fever had wracked his body for what seemed like forever and he couldn’t breathe from how tightly his muscles constricted his chest. He groaned, using every ounce of energy he had left to pull his knees up to his chest, making himself as small as possible. Sweat poured from his brow but his pillow was already drenched, stained yellow, and the smell of stale sweat invaded his nostrils.
“Oh, baby, I’m right here.”
Emma’s voice was soft and smooth, like a soothing balm washing over him and stopping his quaking body from trying to shake itself apart. Her hand on his clammy cheek was like a cool compress, drawing out the toxins in his body that had got in when he had gulped down so much sea water. He sighed a relieved breath, ignoring the shooting pain down his neck as he nudged his face into her palm.
“You-you-you’re alright, l-love,” Killian stuttered, his blue tinted lips ticking up at only one side due to his weakness.
“I’m alright,” Emma smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she nodded reassuringly. “I’m alright,” she repeated, the pad of her thumb brushing over the scar on his cheek.
“I’m h-hot,” Killian whimpered pathetically, his teeth chattering together despite his body continuing to perspire from every pore.
“I know, baby,” Emma said, her voice remorseful despite the fact she couldn’t take away his pain. “Let me help you change your clothes,” she insisted, pulling back the lightweight hospital blanket and balling it at the foot of the bed. “You have to sweat out the fever, Killian, but you don’t have to stay in these wet clothes.”
With her help, Killian rolled onto his side. He moaned, every muscle arguing against the tiny movement, the sound from his mouth something unrecognizable as his own voice. He was hoarse, his throat dry and scratchy and the pitch of his voice had been lowered. He sounded like a wounded animal writhing in a trap, the agony of moving tearing invisible shreds through every one of his limbs like he was rolling on glass.
He could feel Emma’s hands on him, her fingertips cooler than his skin as she pushed the gown over his shoulders and let it slide off his arms. The pinching sensation in his shoulder joints throbbed as he rolled them, his jaw clamping shut and a hiss sounding through his teeth. It was agony, the only saving grace Emma’s dulcet tones as she whispered her apologies.
“Is that better?” Emma cooed, helping him roll onto his back.
With a painful grunt he nodded, the mattress seemingly jagged and rubbing against his body like the sand of the beach he had been relaxing on not too long ago. It had all happened so quickly. One minute they were sleeping and then the next they were thrown into the sea, the sound of the waves as they churned them up like the thunder in the sky. Darkness followed, a silence humming in his ears that was only brightened by the sound of Emma’s voice.
She was his light, the guide that pulled him from the depths and warmed him as he lay incapacitated by the chill in his veins. All of his muscles relaxed the second she laid her hand on him, the tickle of her skin as it dragged against his so welcome and familiar that he smiled. And for the first time since he had been pulled from the ocean, he felt no pain.
“So much better,” Killian sighed with a more reassuring smile.
“You’re going to be okay, baby,” Emma whispered, brushing the hair from his eyes with a sweep of her palm. “When this fever breaks, you will be okay.”
Killian let his eyes fluttered closed for a little longer than he had before, the exhaustive efforts of his body’s fight manifesting in his fatigue. His jaw creaked as he yawned, his shoulders shaking off one last shiver and his hands balling the sheet that Emma had tucked up under his chin.
“You’re tired,” Emma told him softly but sternly. “Sleep, baby,” she added, the sweetness of her words reflected in her smile that Killian could just make out through the blurred edges of his vision. He felt her hand slip from his brow, caressing the side of his face before it finally rested lovingly over his heart, slowing the erratic pounding of his heart. “I’ll be right here.”
Her words were a haze as sleep took hold of him, his eyelids stinging and finally too heavy for him to lift anymore. His breathing evened out, the tap of Emma’s fingers against his chest the last thing he felt before finally drifting off to sleep, the weight pushing down on him easing him into comfort.
Pinprick flashes of white invaded the blackness of sleep and lightning flickered in his dream, casting a white light over the vision he saw. It was of the storm but it was different, the golf ball sized hailstones pounding the deck of their boat as the wind blew through the single sail they had failed to tie up in time. Killian frantically called for Emma, the sound of the storm drowning out his words as she looked up at him just as the sail boom whacked into her and threw her overboard.
Killian gasped for breath, his muscles screaming in protest as he sat bolt upright in bed. The beep from his monitor sped up immediately as he hyperventilated, the back of his throat prickling with dryness as he rasped the only word he could say.
“Emma.”
Hands grabbed at his shoulders, stopping him from falling forward anymore. They were bigger, more masculine, and Killian clawed against them as he struggled for breath. After Killian’s blood pressure had levelled out his vision returned, the room spinning only a little longer before he turned his head and set eyes on his brother.
“Liam?” Killian gasped on a ragged breath. “Where’s Emma?”
His eyes searched the room, rapid blinks not enough to focus his vision, but there was no sign of what he saught. His brow beaded with sweat, his armpits prickling with heat and he clutched at his brother’s arm in his panic. Liam was at his side, his calming words falling on deaf ears as Killian noticed a distinct lack of evidence to suggest Emma had even been in the room. His fever had broke, but he wouldn’t feel better until he found what he was looking for.
“Where is Emma?” He repeated, slowly accenting each word at his brother.
Liam’s face changed from elation to sorrow instantly, his grip on his brother loosening as he fell back into the chair beside Killian’s bed. Killian’s wide eyes flitted over his face, a heavy lump forming in Liam’s throat as he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He tore his gaze away, unable to look his younger brother in the eye for fear he would be able to find the answer he sought in the greyness of his eyes.
“She’s-” Liam began in a quavering voice.
“No.” Killian clenched his jaw defiantly. “No.” He repeated shaking his head and ignoring the pain in his teeth.
“She hit her head,” Liam said unsteadily, his words unbelievable to even himself. He shuffled forward, the chair making a grinding noise against the polished floor, and he reached out to rest a comforting hand on Killian’s shoulder.
“No, she was just here,” Killian breathed, the word lost on a single sob that hitched in his chest. “Emma!” He cried out, the sound echoing around his room. “Love, where are you?”
He shook off his brother’s touch and grabbed at the bed sheet, throwing it aside and swinging his legs over the bed. Killian planted his feet on the floor, simultaneously ripping the electrodes from his body and ignoring the pain as it pulled off clumps of his chest hair. Liam was barely able to get to him before Killian tried to push himself to his feet, weakness taking his legs from under him and he toppled to the floor.
“No!” Killian screamed in frustration, leaning back and banging his head hard against the metal bed frame.
“Killian, stop!” Liam pleaded, sinking to his knees beside his brother and grabbing his head in his hands. Liam turned his brother’s head, palmed pressed hard against his cheeks until Killian’s watery eyes opened to look at him.
“She was just here,” Killian sobbed again, but this time he voice was cracked, small and childlike and it broke Liam’s heart clean in two. Killian tried to shake his head again but Liam’s grip stopped the movement before it even began. Liam finally swallowed the lump in his throat and exhaled hard, his words of apology struggling to find their way to the tip of his tongue.
Emma was gone.
The sea had taken her, turning her over and over in its grasp until she had no energy left to fight any longer. The lifeguards had found her body sometime after Killian had been recovered, but she was already dead. They were too late. Liam had sat at his brother’s bedside for days, listening to him mutter deliriously about his deceased wife as if she were in the room. When the nurses had come to help him out of his fever soaked bedclothes, Killian had talked to them as if they were Emma from the recesses of his sleep, moments of calm passing over him that had him smiling from his reverie.
It broke Liam’s heart, even more, to know that his brother loved Emma so much that even his fever dream was about her. That even as his brain tried to shutdown and reboot itself, she was all he saw. With a gentle shake of his head, Liam took his brother’s hand in his and sighed the heaviest breath he had ever taken.
“Killian, I truly am sorry.” Liam’s voice cracked half way through his words, Killian’s grip on his hand tightening with his realisation.
Killian’s wails could be heard throughout the hospital and as he held him to his chest, fighting off his own tears, Liam wondered if his brother was strong enough to survive losing the biggest part of himself. Emma was more than just his wife, she was his everything, his true love and soul mate. Killian had lived through the storm that had taken her, but would he be able to live the rest of his life without her?