killian-whump:

I found this in my drafts just now…

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A little vignette, because I’m reading this book that is giving me ~urges~ to rewrite the S6 finale with Killian in the asylum with Emma…

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Emma watched the dark-haired man from her seat at the next table over. He was alone, as was she, both of them having opted not to pair up with other inmates patients and to stick to their own company.

Killian, she believed his name was. He rarely put in an appearance in the commons room, let alone in the dining hall, so his presence had caught Emma’s eye. What he was in for, she didn’t know. Undoubtedly, it was some manner of psychosis, like everyone else - though he looked sane enough to her.

But she knew better than most that looks could be deceiving. She, herself, looked sane… but if her history was anything to go by, she wasn’t. Or, rather, she hadn’t been. She was better now, or so she believed, but Mayor Fiona didn’t seem to believe she was well enough to be out of this place.

Killian seemed to be having an intense staring contest with his dinner, glaring at the slices of bologna he’d peeled out of his sandwich as if they’d personally offended him somehow.

Maybe they had, Emma mused to herself. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d met someone who thought their food was talking to them.

If the bologna had offended him, it seemed his macaroni and cheese was more interested in confounding him. He finally ate one noodle of it, then resumed his staring contest - this time with his brow furrowed thoughtfully.

On a whim, Emma picked up her tray and moved over to his table. “I think you’re safe with the mac and cheese,” she teased. “It’s the Mystery Meat on Thursdays that you really need to watch out for.”

Killian blinked and looked up at her in surprise, having been so engrossed in staring at his meal that he apparently hadn’t even noticed her coming over to sit with him.

“Emma Swan,” Emma said, offering him her hand to shake. Since he had a death grip on his fork with his right hand, she’d offered her left.

He stared at it, and for a moment, Emma wondered if he was going to stab her hand with his fork. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Killian Jones,” he said, not taking her hand.

She waited a moment more, not wanting to be rude and remove her hand if he was just a bit slow. After an awkward moment, she finally pulled it back. “I guess you’re not the hand-shaking type,” she dead-panned.

“Are you mocking me?”

The question caught Emma off-guard, both for its unexpectedness and the naked sincerity on Killian’s face as he asked it. “No,” she said. “I’m not mocking you. Why would you think I was?”

He shrugged, turning his eyes down to stare at his dinner tray once more. “You wouldn’t be the first.” He stabbed some more noodles with his fork and shoved them in his mouth. As he chewed, he brought his left arm up from under the table and laid it beside his tray.

Oh. He didn’t have a left hand to shake hers with. No wonder he’d thought she was mocking him. “I didn’t know,” she said.

“Hmm.” He returned his left arm to its spot in his lap, kept under the table and away from prying eyes.

“How did you lose it?” Emma regretted the words as soon as they popped out of her mouth, fearing that this would definitely shut Killian down the rest of the way and prevent any kind of friendship from ever developing between them. And, for some reason, that thought made her incredibly uneasy.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem perturbed by the question at all. “Crocodile ate it,” he said blithely.

“Seriously?”

Killian shrugged. “I don’t know anymore, to tell you the truth. Maybe I lost it in the Ogre Wars.”

“The Ogre Wars?” Emma asked, lifting an eyebrow. “That’s not a thing.” At least, it wasn’t a thing that anyone else should know about. It was a thing in the book of fairytales she and Henry had once believed in, but… “Are you mocking me now?” she demanded.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

“Then how do you know about the Ogre Wars? Did Fiona put you up to this? To test me or something?”

He blinked, looking genuinely confused now. “Who is Fiona?”

“The Mayor.”

He huffed in slight offense. “As if someone so important would even deign to visit a worthless old sea dog like myself.”

“Then why did you mention the Ogre Wars?” Emma demanded.

“I honestly don’t know, love.”

Emma was surprised to realize that she didn’t discern a lie in his statement. She’d never admit it to anyone out loud, for fear they’d think she was even madder than they already thought she was, but she had a spotless record for spotting lies in other people’s statements. And Killian Jones was undoubtedly speaking the truth when he told her he didn’t know why he’d said what he’d said.

“I rarely know what I’m saying anymore.” He sighed. “I’m mad, you see. Mad as a hatter. Crazy as a loon. That’s what they tell me, so it must be true.”

“What’s your diagnosis?”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Diagnosis? Oh, love. They don’t need anything as fancy as that to condemn a man to hell. It appears that being an inconvenience is sufficient enough to earn one such honors.”

“An inconvenience?” Emma questioned. “To who?”

Killian closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “I don’t even know, love. I believe… I used to know, but where there was once knowledge, an answer to your question, perhaps… there’s now nothing. Emptiness. A black hole that grows blacker by the hour.”

Emma smirked. “That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps. You’re probably right, Swan. Perhaps I am as mad as they say.”

A pair of nurses approached then, flanked by two burly orderlies. “Mr. Jones!” one of the nurses said sternly. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere. How did you get out of your room?”

“Centuries of practice,” Killian said simply.

The nurse shook her head, ignoring his words completely. “And what are you doing here, of all places? You already had dinner in your room.”

“I didn’t come for the food.” He frowned. “I came for… I wanted…” His frown grew as he tried to fill in the blanks of his own sentence. “There was something… missing… I need to find it. It’s important.”

“Well, whatever it is, you’ll have to look for it later, Mr. Jones.” The nurse nodded to the two orderlies, who each grabbed Killian by an arm and hauled him to his feet. “You’re late for your treatment now.”

Killian’s entire face paled. “No,” he said weakly.

“Come now,” the other nurse said, stepping forward as he spoke. “You need your treatments to help you think clearly.”

“No, no, no, no,” Killian said, shaking his head desperately. “They steal my thoughts. They take everything away and make it all black. I have to… There’s something I need to do. I have to… It’s important!”

Emma found herself getting to her feet. For all she knew, Killian Jones was a raving madman, one who clearly needed more help than she could even hope to understand. And yet… She didn’t like this. She didn’t like seeing him this way - scared and confused, desperately looking for help that wasn’t going to come. When one of the orderlies brought out a stun gun, she finally broke her silence. “Hey,” she said firmly. “He was calm just a second ago. There’s no need to hurt him. Just let him settle down.”

Killian’s eyes snapped to Emma’s and widened. “Emma,” he said breathlessly. “Emma, we need to go. We need to get out of here, before the blackness takes you, too. Please. You need to go! Find Henry. Take him with you. Get somewhere safe. Emma, please!”

“That’s enough of that,” the male nurse said, taking the stun gun from the orderly.

“You have to break the cur- AUGH!” The jolt of electricity from the stun gun obliterated the end of Killian’s plea, but Emma had heard enough. Killian slumped between the two orderlies, boneless and whimpering now, as they dragged him from the room for his ‘treatment’.

The male nurse left with Killian and the orderlies, but the female one stuck around. “I’m sorry you had to witness that, Miss Swan,” she said ruefully. “He’s a very troubled man, Mr. Jones.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Emma asked. She wasn’t even sure she needed an answer to that question, but she was curious what the nurse would say.

“What isn’t?” She smiled sympathetically, as if her non-answer should be enough to ease Emma’s mind. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll be feeling better as soon as he gets his treatment.”

“And what treatment is that?”

“You know I can’t discuss another patient’s treatment with you, Emma. Now finish eating. Your dinner hour’s almost up.” With that, the nurse headed out of the dining hall, following the same path the other staff members had gone with Killian in tow.

Emma slowly sat and looked down at her uneaten meal. Her appetite was gone. She wouldn’t be able to swallow a bite after what she’d just witnessed. She didn’t even understand why it had bothered her so profoundly… she just knew that it had.

“Electroshock.”

Emma looked up at the old man who had spoken from the next table over.

“That one’s always going into the electroshock room. First few times I saw him, he was screaming about curses and swans and black fairies. Now he just screams. They’ll keep at it until they’ve fried the madness out of his brain… along with whatever else is in there. Poor bastard.” The old man smiled sadly. “You’d be best off forgetting about him, dear. You’ll likely never see him again - and if you do, I doubt he’ll remember you at all.”

If the man’s words were intended to make her feel better, they utterly failed. Instead, they filled Emma with a profound sadness.

She didn’t know why, but being forgotten by Killian Jones suddenly felt like the worst possible thing that could ever happen to her.

:D Mmmmm this is good stuff right here… 

just got out of the mental hospital what should I do now?

Me: *makes a joke*

My therapist:

My birthday week true crime story was *chefs kiss*

My mom is home from the mental hospital and she really shouldn’t have been released yet she is already throwing shot around the house so yay

I had to call the cops on my mom tonight so they can take her to the mental hospital and not one of my friends or my boyfriend came to help me. Nobody fucking cares even my dad wouldn’t come help take care of his own wife. It’s so quiet and lonely in this house now all by myself I wish the cops never left so I had someone to talk to.

i really miss all my friends from inpatient/outpatient. if you went to linden oaks and talked to someone named mia, that’s me. i have brown hair, im lesbian, and i was there about a year ago.

To all of my followers;

I have been in the mental hospital for the past week. I just got discharged yesterday. Also, my boyfriend and i decided to break up. I am going to delete my tumblr. SO if you want to talk on a different social media then feel free to message me.

A quick check in

Drink some water, take a deep breath, if you’ve been wearing a binder for more than eight hours, take it off. Stretch, take any medications you need to, have some food, correct your posture, go outside if you can. You’re going to get through this.