Here Lies Killian Jones - Snippet from my CS Sleepy Hollow AU
Summary: By all accounts, Killian Jones ought to be dead. He’d met his demise on the field of battle outside the sleepy little town of Storybrooke, facing off against the Dark One who was working as a mercenary for the Red Coats. He’d felt the Dark One’s blade slice through him, the demon who had once been a man Killian had been guilty of cruelty against. He’d succumbed to his injury, but not before inflicting his own with the dagger he’d pulled from the Dark One’s belt at the last moment; the two collapsing to the blood soaked ground together as darkness overtook them. By all accounts, Killian Jones was dead. Dead and buried. So, why had he just awoken, and where the bloody hell was he?
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @killian-whump!!!! I remember you saying buried alive was one of your top 5 favorite whump tropes, so I knew I had to write this in your honor. It completes my eleventh fic in the whumpetition and ticks of another @badthingshappenbingo square.
This is a snippet from my CS Sleepy Hollow AU. This fic was going to be part of the 2019 cssns, but life happened. I still plan to write the full fic. Whether i save it for next’s event or post it before is anyone’s guess. For now, enjoy some Killian digging himself out of his own grave.
Rated: T / ~1750 words / Much thanks to @kmomof4 for giving this the once over for me! / All the love to @artistic-writer for the incredible manip of freshly unearthed Killian!
Here Lies Killian Jones
Killian’s eyes flew open and a gasp filled his lungs. A dank, earthy note hit the back of his throat, forcing a cough to expel from his lungs. He saw nothing but utter darkness and wondered if something might be covering his eyes. Reaching up to check, his hand hit a hard surface right above where he lay. Rough, brittle wood brushed against his palm and bits of debris fell in the wake of his inspection.
Where the devil was he?
A far off voice echoed in his ears. His name. Someone was saying his name. The compulsion to find this person overwhelmed him and he began to press against the barricade above him once more. With elbows bent out to his sides to try and leverage that which covered him, Killian met the edges of the structure and cold dread seeped into his chest. Raising his knees, they too hit the confines of his prison, and when he stretched his legs back out, only for his feet to find the same resistance, the awful truth came over him.
A coffin. He was lying in a coffin.
Memories of a duel flashed within his mind’s eye. Metal clanging against metal as he and the man he’d once known as Rumple Von Stiltskin fought on the battlefield. Though, it had become clear rather quickly that his foe was no longer a mere man.
“You once fooled me into thinking I’d met the Dark One on the road over the toll bridge,” Rumple sneered. “You humiliated me that night. Left me exposed in front of the woman I desired and stole her away from me.” He pushed off Killian, freeing himself from the blade he’d become impaled on and cast a simpering smirk upon his opponent. “I bet you never imagined I’d actually find him. Find him, and become him.”
The rest of their bout played out in Killian’s head, until the moment of his demise pierced his consciousness. The Dark One had run him through. Killian fumbled over the buttons of his coat, feeling for the wound and trying to determine whether he ought to be relieved or alarmed at finding none.
He remembered the sharp pain then the numbness that had quickly followed. The glint of a dagger in the Dark One’s belt and the rush of blood over his hand after embedding it in the demon’s gut. He remembered collapsing to the ground and seeing a swirl of darkness envelop him. Had it been death?
No. It couldn’t have been, for he was alive. He could feel the panicked rasps burning his lungs, could smell the petrichor of recent rainfall and the pine that made up his coffin. His pulse raced, heart hammering in his chest which was clothed by the heavy wool of his uniform. He could move his limbs, could cry out for help, and feel the sting of fresh terror pooling in his eyes. He was most assuredly alive, but for how much longer?
Ohhhh, it’s wonderful!!!!!!!!! I love it!!! What a lovely story, and yes, it’s one of my favoritest tropes ever!!!!!! :D And you did such a great job!!!
Thank you so much, my dear!!! *smooches and hugs* I am honored!!! <3
And thanks to @artistic-writer, too, for that lovely manip of long-haired, dirty-and-battered Killian... YUM! :D