Written to try to make sense of the giant plot-holes of season 6 (before they became so numerous you'd have to rewrite... everything), this is a deleted scene from "Dark Waters" (6x6) that I wrote on tumblr to help scapeartist (and most of us) with the many questions left after Killian left the Nautilus. Un-beta'd.
Killian only, no Emma.
Killian should be dead. The weight of the many leagues pressing from above should have crushed him the moment he'd left the Nautilus.
He'd truly not expected to survive, but he'd been a dead man walking for centuries. His only regrets in those last few seconds were having failed in his quest to get his revenge on the Crocodile and destroying the boy's—Liam's—life as well.
My father would have likely seen to that anyway, given enough time.
Brennan Jones hadn't changed enough to consider a new name for a child or story to soothe a son's fears. Better for Killian to have ridden the boy of his father than for the lad to live a life knowing his father had willing left him.
If I tell myself that often enough, I might even learn to believe it.
He should have only had seconds to do so, yet here he remained, the sea swallowing him deeper until his feet sank into the sand, sending up a murky haze that temporarily blocked what light reached him.
Killian had always loved the sea. But being here, if not quite in Davy Jones's locker—no relation, mind you—then certainly he lurked nearby, it wasn't natural. It should mean death.
Why am I not dead?
He replayed the events since he'd found Captain Nemo stowing away on the Jolly Roger.
The Nautilus itself shouldn't exist nor be able to survive the crushing depths of the sea. Her entire crew should have perished the moment they dove too far beneath the surface. It could only mean magic of some sort was involved, though unlike any Killian had seen before.
Perhaps the Nautilus was not the only thing enchanted.
The more he thought on it, the more certain he grew, recalling his intent to flee the moment he'd first entered the water in this damnable suit. Only Killian had continued to follow the Captain and the first mate, his steps automatic but not wholly his own until they'd climbed out into the cave.
No such restriction hampered him now as he moved one foot, then the other along the sea floor. Whatever hold Nemo had possessed over the suit had either faded with time or with the Captain's imminent demise.
Bloody hero. If he'd not gotten in the way and just let my fate play out…
Killian shook his head to clear it, the motion rather disconcerting because the helmet didn't reciprocate, remaining immobile on the suit.
Think, bloody think, before you freeze to d—
It hit Killian that he wasn't even remotely chilled and he should be, for the suit wasn't thick enough to protect him from the pressure or the cold, both of which should be well on their way to killing him.
Neither were. In fact, the pressure was almost comforting, like the embrace of a loved one, the sensation so foreign it took Killian several moments to place it.
Perhaps it was a trap, the sea a siren in its own right, holding him until he no longer cared to move.
Or perhaps some enchantment remained on the suit. It would move to Killian's will now, the problem being he had no damned clue which direction was which or where his ship currently resided.
Bloody hell, I just want to get back to the Jolly Roger and—
His body—no the cursed suit—immediately began moving of its own volition, forcing Killian's legs to obey its commands. He fought it at first, but it was as useless as directly fighting the tide and far more exhausting. He capitulated and heeded the orders, not really having any better ideas on how to get to the surface or his ship.
His suit, on the other hand, appeared hold the information he lacked, as after a time—minutes or hours, he had no way to know, though light still remained—the sound of a breeze filled the suit and he slowly began to ascend.
Eventually the glare of the surface became clear, the only light blocked by a familiar shadowed curve that he'd know anywhere.
Killian locked the suit away in one of the Roger's many hiding places, not for sentimental reasons—of course not—but because one never knew when such a thing might prove to be useful.
Comments and feedback welcomed...
Fyi, those few who have asked for Missing Pieces update... there might be one this week...