#(even if they won’t say what they need cough cough Brennan)

[bisexualjonahsimms]

Camille Saroyan master of autism accommodations

[euphoriacafe]

Exo Mafia Reaction | When they feel heartbreak

This wasn’t request at all but I notice there are barely any KPOP AU’s for groups so I might do a small section on here for four groups of my choosing! Hope you enjoy you and follow me so you can see more of my writings and collages!

Here is our Masterlist 

Also check out Mafia One Exo Mafia Reaction | When they meet their s/o

MAKE SURE TO REBLOG AND LIKE OUR POST !!

Baekhyun: 

As Baekhyun hid you behind him he stared Seokjin down as he held a gun at him. “Give them to me now or I promise you both will be dead in the amount of seconds.” Seokjin threatened with cold eyes and was taking huge deep breaths. “We don’t want problems but,” Baekhyun looked down sighing as he spoke “You can’t have my girlfriend/boyfriend I’ll kill you before you can kill me anyways even if you try to lay a hand on them I’ll make sure your gang is wiped out.” Baekhyun smirked grabbed your wrist seeing Seokjin lowering his gun slowly emotionless. Baekhyun smirked and began to drag you away and spoke quietly only for you to hear. “ I promise I’ll take you on a date but for now you just have to trust me unless you want your mother/rival gang to kill you.” 

Jongdae:

As he ran back to the police with you inside his arms there was a large bang from a gun. It hit one of the officer but he didn’t know who. As he kept running he set you inside one of the cop cars “TAKE US TO THE HOSPITAL NOW!” Jongdae was furious he felt his heart sink. You both were so close that the day you actually disappeared he cried and raged to the point he felt abandoned. The police got in the drivers seat and began to speed off to the streets to the hospital. Jongdae held you close to his chest whispering and repeating “I won’t lose you... I can’t lose you... why.” he cried out to you. As you both got to the hospital he pulled you out with you inside of his arms and into the hospital “HELP HER GET DR. MIN NOW!” he laid you on the gernee as he tried to follow but the nurse stopped him. He put both of his hands behind his head in stress and pain. Then heard another cop car the police rushed in the chief of police. His ears began to ring everything around him was turtle slow he could hear his heart drop low into his body. Jongdae fell to his knees and fainted still a bit conscious watching doctors and nurses rush to help him. How could he find you again but all bruised and bleeding... how could the man who is helping find the killer get shot.

Jongin:

“Well Kai I hope your mother is doing well where ever she went.” You stood up “Have a goodnight.” you whispered as you turned around and began to walk away slowly towards the ocean. Kai watched confused tilting his head until it finally came to him. You were going to try to commit. He got quickly the sea must’ve felt so cold and harsh due to the wind he chased after you until you dived under the water and saw you somewhat a bit further out. Jongin began to swim towards you following until he saw you stop swimming and beginning to slowly struggle. He got closer and tried to put you closer to him. You were trying to fight him on it why would you try to do this. Why would you try to take your own life You managed to get out of his grip and go underwater slowly he looked everywhere until he dived under grabbing your hand trying to pull you back to the surface. He noticed in the matter of seconds your both wasn’t fighting him anymore he got to the surface with you and began to pedal backwards as you both got to the shore, he coughed a bit and put his ear against your chest and couldn’t hear a single thing. Jongin began to preform CPR on you. After a few minutes you finally coughed up water that was suffocating you as you were taking deep breaths he yelled “WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO TAKE YOUR OWN LIFE! I’M TALKING TO YOU WHY!” there was a huge pain in his heart that you were that unhappy you got to this point. 

Kyungsoo

As you stared at Mark behind Kyungsoo who scoffed grinning. “what is a little whore like you doing inside of a gun ranged?” Mark Tuan got closer as you step back and looked down afraid of what he would do. Kyungsoo looked at you the his gaze went to the ground then to you again listening quietly. Watching you flinch as he got closer made a small pain inside of his chest. “Are you really trying to learn how to shoot a gun? PFT YOU CAN BARELY TALK WITHOUT STUTTERING YOU-” Mark was about to lay a hand upon you until Kyungsoo quickly grabbed his wrist as he turned around and push him against the wall. “What she/he can do or can’t do doesn’t concern you. Move along before I ban you for even coming inside my gun range,” Kyungsoo remained cold and emotionless. “Don’t forget I can put a bullet through your pretty boy head before you can try to speak to me.” Kyungsoo shoved him against the wall against letting go of him until Chanyeol finally came out. “Chanyeol show Tuan out before I shoot him and make him regret every talking to my costumer again.” Chanyeol quickly nodded moving Mark out who looked back smirking without a word. Kyungsoo turned towards you and huffed “You should defend yourself before he another guy/girl tries to hurt you.” He sat down watching you eye wide looking down shyly nodding. You grabbed the gun and went back to shooting trying your best to follow his past instructions. 

Sehun

As sehun pulled you out of the coffee shop he kept walking slowly until you both turned a corner. “Thanks Brennan...” You whispered looking down. Sehun chuckled he held a hand out. “The name isn’t Brennan, the name is Sehun and it’s no problem I rather not see a pretty girl get harassed.” Sehun looked down at the ground. “Well still thank you it means a lot.” You blushed looking away. As you bowed and began to walk away you felt your body stop not wanting to leave Sehun closed his eyes and locked his lips sighing. “Would you want to go and maybe get something to drink?” You asked looking back slowly. Sehun knew he couldn’t have you but it didn’t mean you couldn’t meet up with him. Sehun nodded “We can go right now I have time.” he smiled sweetly. 

Suho

“How did you know he put something inside of my drink first of all?” You asked over the loud booming music. “We have a security camera right here.” Suho pointed it out “We make sure everyone especially the women who come have fun but stay safe.Now I must leave please don’t accept any drinks from guys... but accept a drink from me you can choose any drink of your choice. Just say Special menu.” He grinned and looked away as he stood up you stopped him. “Stay and have a drink with me since you think I should be safe... protect me.” You smiled innocently as you kept your hand on his arm not wanting to let him leave. You felt more secure. 

Chanyeol

You nodded “okay... Chanyeol... I’m sorry I came in at a wrong time.” You spoke in a hushed tone not wanting to make him angry with you on the first day. Chanyeol gave a small fake smile. “It’s fine... don’t worry about it. Are you scared of me?” He asked wanting the truth. Especially on how you were acting at the moment you looked down and nodded slowly. You felt as if that was the wrong answer and if he was going to rage once he stood up. It hurt his heart a bit wanting to sound like a laid back boss. “Don’t be afraid of me... just listen to me and I will always be a fun and respectful gentleman... especially towards you.” His voice was smooth and tender as he walked over to you in front of you with a small smile. 

Xiumin

As time was slipping past Xiumin stayed inside of your hospital room beside you never pulling his hand away from you. He was holding his hand as he finally fell asleep- he felt comfortable and at peace. Until a soft knock was at the door he opened his eyes and saw Suho and Jongin who came in quietly “Sir the GOT7 gang tried to ruin our trades-“ Suho whispered but cut himself off slowly “Is that the Golden snakes daughter.” Jongin asked quickly shock. “Golden Snakes?” He turned to you and got a close but good look at you shock. “We finally have her...” Minseok whispered “Get extra security no one enters unless it’s me.” He turned back to you and rubbed your hand gently with his thumb. He couldn’t believe you were really the daughter/son of the Top mafia group that was next to him.

Yixing

Before you could walk into the office to get what your boss wanted Yixing pulled you back and behind him. “Actually me and (y/n) have to get going. Have a good day sir.” Yixing flat out said then pulled you out of the shop as you followed willingly hearing your boss throw a fit and yelling for you. Yixing didn’t stop at all as you both were walking you both turned a corner and sighed. “No need to go back to the job it won’t be worth it at all.” He turned to you seeing you looking at the Park jungle gym as kids play. He smiled “Wanna go on the swings?” He asked sweetly asnyou looked at him he pulled you quickly to the swing “sit I’ll push you!” There was a sudden of joy and happiness inside of your heart and it felt great. He felt complete inside of his life.

[piracytheorist]

A Song for Goodnight

Mama Jones and KnightRook feels, y’all. aka Who needs summaries

AO3 | FFnet

"You'll keep the lantern lit, aye?"

"Aye, love. Worry not for that." Alice caressed her son's forehead softly, brushing away a few stray locks.

Killian's hair, always easier to tame. Nothing like Liam's wild curls.

"Now, would you like a bedtime story? I haven't told you the Big Friendly Giant in a long time..."

"Little Killy, still needing stories to sleep?" Liam's voice was heard from the door. He was peeking his head inside, his grin spread from ear to ear. Her little troublemaker.

"Hush, Liam," she said. "Go back to bed."

He stuck out his tongue at his little brother and left without a second word.

"He's so annoying, Mama."

A sad smile appeared on her lips and she desperately tried to hide it. "I think he's just jealous he doesn't get a bedtime story anymore. You know he loves you, right?"

"Aye," Killian said, dropping his eyes to his chest. "And I love him too. But he's annoying."

Alice brushed her fingers through his hair again, desperate to memorize the feeling of it. She coughed, managing to make it small and keep her mouth closed.

"Mama? Can you sing tonight?"

Her eyes lit up and she turned to him, smiling widely. He hadn't asked of that for some time.

"Any preference, love?"

He only needed to hum the beginning of the melody. Gods above, she was happy she managed to teach him how to sing. She knew it wouldn't be wise to use her own voice now, but his eyes, her eyes, looked so happy and eager to hear her sing...

My young love said to me My mother won't mind And me father won't slight you For your lack of kind

A cough escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

No blood. Good.

And she stepped away from me And this she did say It will not be long love Till our wedding day

As she took a breath to continue, her throat stung and she coughed. Knowing full well what that entailed, she pulled the handkerchief from her pocket and coughed, drops of blood landing on it.

To her horror, Killian saw the red spots.

"Mama?"

"Not to worry, love. I'll be fine."

His eyebrows furrowed. Damn those brows, he was only eight and his face could be so expressive...

"Close your eyes."

He did, eventually, as she went on with the rest of the song. When she heard a soft snore coming from him, though his face still appeared worried, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Goodnight, my little sailor,” she said. She then fixed the wick so the flame would be there, enough to give the room some light but safer to leave unattended. She swallowed her cough and ran out of his room, finally giving in to her coughing fit once Killian's door was closed.

Brennan's arms were around her immediately.

"Alice?"

"It's alright." She waved her hand at him and coughed again, spilling blood at the handkerchief. "Oh," she breathed.

"Come, let's get you to bed."

After she was settled, Alice looked at her husband. She couldn't deny that she was scared. Her time was very short, what would become of them? Her boys? How would Brennan fare?

Buried deep down within her was the fear that he wouldn't make it. That he would eventually put his needs above their sons... She always tried to keep that fear hidden where it should be, to not allow Liam and Killian to ever doubt him...

"Brennan, listen to me."

He looked up from her hand, tucked between his, and he stared at her eyes. She wanted to believe what she saw in his eyes were tears, not a trick from the flickering flame of the candle. Or her own weakened eyesight, for that matter.

"Take care of them, will you?"

"Don't talk like that." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I need you to promise me," she said weakly, feeling the cough bubble up inside her as tears escaped her eyes.

"I promise. I promise, my love."

There. That should be enough.

She knew her time was coming, yet she couldn't... she had to leave this world with some kind of hope. Deep down she knew it was false, but it was all she had.

She smiled, and closed her eyes.

Brennan felt her hand go limp in both of his. He couldn't hear her labored breathing anymore. He opened his mouth, her name dying on his lips as another worried voice was heard.

"Mama?"

Killian.

"Oh, m'boy..."

"Mama? Is she asleep?" he asked his father as the man walked to the door silently. "What is it? Mama!" he added as he turned to look at his mother's slack form, her bloody handkerchief still held on her hand. "Mama!"

Brennan picked him up and took him away from the door. He shouldn't have seen this...

"Mama!" Killian was crying. Brennan first felt the sobs rocking his son's body before they were heard aloud. He held him close, now away from their bedroom, and Killian clutched onto him with force, as he kept on crying and whispering "Mama... Mama..."

~

"Papa! Papa, it hurts!"

"Shh... I know, darling, I know..."

Alice cried loudly, tears streaming down her small and already reddened face. "It hurts!"

Killian balanced his daughter better on his lap, allowing her to lean on him while he examined her wounded arm. One slight movement and a shriek from her confirmed his suspicions.

"It's broken, love. Stay still."

"It hurts!" she cried as she sobbed against his shirt.

He balanced her broken arm on his left one as his hand caressed her head softly. "It's gonna be alright. It's alright. We'll fix it, aye?"

Her response was only choked sobs.

"We'll fix it. We'll make the pain go away. But... but..." He swallowed hard. It was never easy to announce his leaving. "I need to bring a doctor here."

"No! No, don't leave me, please, Papa!"

"I'll be back faster than ever, we need to fix your arm..." he tried, but his own voice betrayed his reluctance to leave.

"No! Don't leave! Use the magic!"

He closed his eyes and bit his lip. The leftover petal had done its work many a time he'd found himself at a loss, but from the looks of it he guessed it was nearing its end. If there even was enough magic left to heal her, it would probably not suffice for anything else.

"Please! Use the magic, Papa. Don't leave me."

He knew that the sob accompanying her pleas wasn't only because of the injury. Tears stung at his eyes - much like every time he had to leave - and he bent his head, kissing her soft blonde locks.

"I won't. I'll stay," he said softly, a small sigh escaping. "Let me fetch the petal."

She sniffled and stepped down, crying out as the movement jostled at her arm and he felt like he was being stabbed himself. It wasn't the first time she got injured like that, and he guessed it would always feel as bad as the first time. He took the petal and breathed deeply, hoping against hope this wasn't its end.

He held it above Alice's arm, rubbed at it with his fingers and bright yellow dust started falling from it, right where a bruise was forming. In seconds, a snapping sound was heard and the bruise disappeared, as a smile appeared on Alice's face.

It was short-lived, however, as her face fell when she saw the petal wither completely, now a dead, dry thing.

She put her arms behind her back. "I'm sorry, Papa."

He set the petal down on the table. "Be sorry that you jumped from so up high. Don't be sorry you're feeling better, see?" He brought her arm in front with his hook and tapped at the previously injured place with his fingers, turning to tickling as they went up her arm and shoulder. Alice shrieked a laughter, always a loud one, and pulled away with a smile.

"I won't jump from so high again. I promise." Her face was down, however, as she said that. "Is there not another flower?"

He swallowed as he thought. There was always a possibility another one had grown... But the garden was far away from the closest village and any trek that didn't guarantee supplies wasn't worth risking leaving his five-year-old rascal alone. Although, another source of magic for help would be very precious to both of them... And for different reasons for each one.

He bent down on one knee to look her in the eye. "If you promise me you'll stay put, and you'll be careful to not get hurt again, I may find some time to go search for another one." She nodded vigorously. "I don't know if I'll even find one," he said, holding up his hand to stop her, "but I can look."

"Can't you buy one? What if you get hurt?"

He smiled at her. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah," she said, frowning, "because you can leave and go find a doctor!" Her eyebrows started to furrow.

"It's not that. Do you remember what I told you about this?" He held up his hook. On their own, his lips pursed together and his voice went lower. "That I lost it during a mighty fight with a crocodile!" he said with emphasis as he pointed at the hook with his hand. Keeping his lips pursed and his one eyebrow raised, he turned towards her, and she giggled. "Any other harm that may come upon me, I shall fight it valiantly!" he said and laid his open palm on his chest as he puffed it, earning another giggle from Alice.

"And I will help you, Papa! I'll fight with you!" she said with a wide grin and threw her arms around him, blocking half of his view with her wild curls. He hugged her back, leaving a kiss at the side of her head, relaxed to see her previously happy mood come back. She was always unpredictable, swinging from one mood to another without warning. Of course, he couldn't blame her.

But him making funny faces and noises on purpose always seemed to put a smile on her face.

"Now, it's late. Let's get you to bed," he said and picked her up, going for her bed.

"Mmm." She snuggled on his shoulder, her arms going a little slack. He leaned forward and she flopped dramatically on the bed, sticking out her tongue at him.

"Knackered, are we? Which story do you want today?" He sat at the side of the bed and covered her with her favourite blanket.

"I don't want a story today. Will you sing?"

His eyes lit up. She'd never told him to not sing or stop while he'd been doing that, but it was the first time she asked for it. "Of course, love. What song would you like?"

"That one with the 'moved through the fair'."

He couldn't help the smile, nor the slight melancholy inside. He knew she loved that song, it was after all, the one she'd heard the most. His hand went up to brush the always messy curls away from her face, and he began singing.

My young love said to me...

[trueloveseyeroll]

When The Tide Turns (2/16)

Summary:  The plan was to go to England, finish the case and head back home in a matter of days. Of course, nothing in Emma’s life ever goes according to plan. Not only does she end up travelling across Europe, looking for a Liam Jones in order to finish her case, she ends up travelling with Liam’s brother - an annoyingly handsome Killian Jones. And she doesn’t trust him one bit.

Rating: T, for language and a bit of violence later on

Beta-reader: the lovely @forget-me-not-s  :))

Artists: check out @theblacksiren’s beautiful artwork for chapter 1 here and @optomisticgirl ‘s banner here. And while we wait for @fairytalesandtimetravel ‘s amazing artwork for a later chapter, go check out all her other stuff! Now three cheers for these three fantastic artists!

Word count: ~3,958 (68k+ in total)

A/N: I’ve been so excited to post this next chapter and hopefully some of your questions will be answered!! Thank you all for the lovely response for chapter 1 - I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of the fic :))) 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |  Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 |  Chapter 12 |  Chapter 13 |  Chapter 14 |  Chapter 15 |

AO3

Old roads and crooked alleyways shaped the bones of Willesby. Brick houses lined the streets, the Jones’ factory standing tall at the outskirts of the village. In daylight, Emma could see the ocean beyond the hills. The true charm of Willesby though, sparked from the nautical decorations that gave life to the bleak façades all around. A ship’s wheel hanging here and there, oars hanging above doors, a large compass chiselled into stone, and a ship at Emma’s height carved out of one block of wood. The innkeeper had been right when he said that The Brothers Jones had given life to the village. Their love of the sea had made a port town out of the streets amongst the hills.

The notary’s office looked much the same. Rich red wood dominated most of the room. Not just the floor, but the panelling on the wall, the furniture, the doors and even the picture frames. In contrast, paintings of the sea in all its colours adorned the walls. On Mr. Clark’s desk stood a model of a ship, The Brothers Jones painted on its hull.

“Do take a seat, Miss Swan. Please.” Mr. Clark, a short man with an obvious sniffle sat behind his desk, waving Emma into the room.

“I’m guessing you know why I’m here.” Emma sat in one of the two lavish chairs by Mr. Clark’s desk.

“Of course, I was waiting for you! I received a fax from your office yesterday, outlining the situation.”

“Great.” Emma’s terse smile was one she reserved for lawyer meetings. She dropped it after a split second. “We were very sorry to hear of Mr. Jones’ passing.” And pretty damn shocked too.

“It is indeed tragic. Barrie was a good friend of mine.” Mr. Clark ran a finger over the hull of the model ship. “It frightens us all when a healthy man suddenly dies at 74, doesn’t it?”

Emma didn’t know what to answer. She resorted to nodding.

“About the business, Mr. Clark, the negotiations of the sale between Mr. Jones and my client were almost finished, so I trust that you and I will be able to conclude it?” She hated to come across as crass, but the death of a man she had never met wasn’t an easy topic. She had come here to finish a case - now was the time to do it.

“Don’t set your hopes too high, Miss Swan. I’m afraid it won’t be as straightforward as we had thought, and I probably won’t be of much help to you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emma narrowed her eyes at the solicitor. “I thought everything was agreed. We have Barrie Jones’ written consent and his death does nothing to invalidate that.”

Mr. Clark swiped at his nose with a tissue. “I understand, Miss Swan. But there’s an unforeseen complication.” His choice of words felt overdone coming from his mouth. Too formal for a small guy like him. Mr. Clark cleared his throat and hesitated through his next sentence while Emma kept her irritation from showing. “You see, there’s an heir.”

“An heir?” She must have misheard him. “We were told there was no heir. Mr. Jones never married and he definitely never mentioned this ‘detail’ throughout the negotiations.”

“I was as surprised as you are, believe me. Everyone thought Barrie Jones was the last of the family alive, but he sent me a letter two days before his death, saying otherwise. Understand, Miss Swan, that had I known about this earlier, I would’ve informed you.”

So far he had had three days to inform Emma or her office of this letter. Emma fought not to call him out on his laziness. Mr. Clark coughed as he retrieved the letter from his desk drawer, handing it over to Emma.

“So who is this heir? I suppose I’ll just have to sign the contracts with him or her, right?”

“Liam Jones; Barrie’s nephew. Brennan - that is, Liam’s father - didn’t always see eye to eye with Barrie, so Liam never lived here in Willesby. He was an adventurous sailor though. Here in Willesby, we always thought he died in an accident on the sea about nine years ago. Apparently, we were wrong,” Mr. Clark gestured towards the letter.

Emma had read about Brennan in her files. The older of the two brothers, he had been meant to take over the family business, or at least run it with his brother Barrie. The factory hadn’t interested Brennan though. He had left Willesby, and died about twenty years ago. But Emma’s files had never mentioned any Liam.

“So where can I find Liam Jones?”

Mr. Clark blew his nose again, and Emma had an odd sense he was trying to hide behind his tissue.

“I don’t know, Miss Swan. All I know is written in that letter, and Barrie only wrote that he had corresponded with Liam for several years. He seems to be travelling around Europe.”

Travelling around Europe. Well, that narrowed it down. Emma unfolded the letter in her hand, skimming Mr. Jones’ words. There wasn’t much information she could use. First two paragraphs of how old Barrie had started to feel. Then a couple of sentences about Liam, a man everyone had presumed dead; nothing specific about his whereabouts.

“Now, I have told you as much as I know, and so the situation in legal terms should be clear. If you want to conclude the sale, you have to find Liam Jones. Believe me, Miss Swan, when I say that I am most sorry for this regrettable setback. Most sorry.”

“Great.” Emma was as insincere as Mr. Clark’s apologies. “What now then?”

“Perhaps you will find more information in Barrie’s office? I have a key here. Two actually,” Mr. Clark fumbled for the keys in his desk drawer before handing them to Emma. “One for the factory and one for the office. I believe my role in this affair finishes here, Miss Swan. If you’ll excuse me, I must rest. You see, my health is not excellent at the moment and my doctor forbids me from working for too long. It’s been a pleasure, Miss Swan. Do not forget to close the door as you leave.”

And like that, Mr. Clark rose to leave the office through a side door, Emma barely managing to say goodbye before he was gone. She stayed in her chair for a moment longer.

An heir. Her mind clung to the word, as if saying it enough times would make it untrue. There was an heir somewhere in Europe, an heir she needed to find if she wanted to conclude this case.

With a sigh, Emma rose from her chair and left the office. Dark clouds greeted her outside, and she fought to keep herself from kicking a lamp post out of frustration. Instead, she followed the road to its end, towards the Jones’ factory.

She did not look forward to calling Regina about this.

The lock gave a last satisfying click before Killian removed the lock picks. Still crouching, he tugged the handle and pushed the door open with a wide grin. It only took him a minute this time; he was getting better at this lock-picking-business.

Killian stood in the doorway for a moment, holding his breath as he looked around the office. He had only been there once before. How old had he been then? Eight? Nine? It had been shortly after his father’s death - that much he remembered. As a child, when Barrie let him enter his office, Killian had felt humbled. Much like then, he now felt like he was intruding on something much greater than he could ever become.

Killian swallowed his uncertainty and stepped over the threshold. Barrie’s desk stood to the left, a great painting of the original brothers Jones on the wall behind it. Matthew Jones, Killian’s great-grandfather, stood proud beside his younger brother Michael.

Two windows framed the painting and let light into the office. His uncle wasn’t a tidy man, that much was clear. Piles of papers littered his desk, some with only a few notes written on them, others with sketches or elaborate drawings. Books lay open and a pen lay ready for scribbling, as if Barrie had only left for a short moment.

The object Killian sought wasn’t on the desk though. He pulled out every drawer on each side of the desk only to find more drawings of boats and compasses and even constellations. Killian ruffled through all the papers, hoping to find something underneath.

With pursed lips, he closed the final drawer and looked at the desk again. What an utter mess. A spindle stacked with bills caught his eye. He wasn’t here to look through papers, yet the bold letters on the bills intrigued him.

Overdue

Killian leafed through each invoice, all of them informing his uncle Barrie of overdue payments and stressing the financial liability of the factory. Killian’s brows stitched together. Did the business really struggle that much? And what would become of it now that Barrie had passed away, leaving behind all this debt? The entire business would probably be sold off and torn down. Killian tried to ignore the several regrets looming at the back of his mind. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he found that bloody trinket.

On the other side of the room stood a file cabinet, as wide as the wall behind it. Killian had no interest in going through more papers though.

Instead, Killian turned to the cabinet against the wall opposite of the door. It was as rich in its design as the desk. Books lined the shelves, along with several trinkets; model ships, an octant, even a souvenir of the London Eye. If the item Killian sought wasn’t here, it wasn’t in the office at all.

He studied each shelf carefully, skimming the spines of maritime textbooks and old classics. One classic in particular caught his attention: Peter and Wendy. Killian grinned, remembering his uncle’s fascination of Peter Pan and Neverland. After all, the stories had been what started this whole mess in the first place.

Killian pulled the book out of its place with a finger on its top. His tug was met with resistance and a subtle click. Killian’s grin only grew wider as the mechanism activated.

What a classic way to hide your secrets, uncle.

The back of the shelf lifted, revealing a hidden space behind it. A space once again littered with both everything and nothing. Killian pulled out old photographs, a teddy bear that had seen better days, a battered notebook and several drawings. The shelf was a mess of rubbish to put it lightly. Items of no value to anyone but Barrie.

Killian shifted through the trinkets and papers, hoping it would be there. Hiding one item of value amidst unimportant things was exactly the kinds of thing his uncle would do. That way, it could easily be overlooked by any thieves or nosy guests. He just had to -

There.

Killian almost laughed, so thrilled to have found it at last. He grasped the round trinket, studying its beauty for a mere moment before tucking it into a pocket of his leather jacket. Finally feeling the weight of it by his side, Killian could rest easy. He looked at the mess on the shelf one last time, his eyes flickering towards a pile of letters.

He knew that handwriting.

Killian reached for the bundle of letters, three in total, with an unsure hand. Liam. They were letters from Liam. He admired the familiar writing on the envelopes, forgetting his former purpose. No matter how much he had tried, Liam was not something he could push away and ignore.

A clang from outside the office startled Killian.

Bloody hell.

The stairs from the work floor to the office - they were of metal grid. That clang meant someone was coming.

Killian’s eyes darted from one side of the room to the other. The office was on the second floor, he couldn’t possibly jump from the window.

The footsteps were getting closer. Killian glanced at the door, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no way out. Whoever entered the door in a few seconds would find him like a deer caught in the headlights - or more accurately, an intruder caught red-handed.

He stuffed the letters in his coat, looked around one last time and made a quick decision.

Bloody buggering hell.

Emma leaned her head back to take in the building as she stood by its door. There was something gothic about the architecture. Maybe gothic wasn’t the right word, but she had never paid much attention in her few choice lectures on architecture. The Jones factory was a grand building, that much she could vouch for. With dark bricks, arched windows and doors, wings on each side and endless details, it might as well have been some sort of cathedral.

Emma chose the bigger of the two keys, sliding it into the lock. She felt odd turning it. The click of the door unlocking and the creaking as she opened it urged her to cringe. She had a key - even explicit permission from the notary - yet she still felt guilty. Like she was breaking and entering. A chill ran through her at the thought.

The door opened to a large open room with miles to the ceiling, or so it seemed. Emma stood in the doorway for a moment, soaking everything in. An assembly line twisted its way through the room with different machines at each station. Pipes followed the line about, creating a net of metal a few feet above Emma’s head.

It certainly looked like a factory. Emma had wondered how compasses and sextants and the likes were made. She had imagined by hand. Like an old-clock worker. The Jones factory was just one large platform, a mixture of machines and tables where workers could do their thing.

Emma wandered about for a few minutes, imagining what the place looked like when the engines were running, the large furnaces in the corner sparking with heat. She almost forgot her initial purpose.

Right. The office. Find the office.

To the right of the main door, a stair led to a gangway with a nice view of the entire factory. The stairs also led to a door, which had to lead to the office.

Against the factory floor, Emma’s steps had been muffled. But against the metal grid of the stairs, clangs echoed throughout the entire building - a stark reminder of how silent the place was. No factory should ever feel this abandoned without even the whirring of an engine. It was like all life had just vanished.

Emma pulled the second key - the smaller one - out of her pocket and slid it into the door lock. Turning it to the left, she heard no click. To the right instead, she heard the wrong sort of click. Emma tugged at the door handle and her suspicions were confirmed. The door had been unlocked before - now it wouldn’t budge. Emma turned the key again. Maybe Mr. Jones wasn’t a stickler for privacy?

Finally, the door gave way and Emma stepped into Barrie Jones’ office. She noticed the sun first. It had found its way through the dark clouds, leaving two long stripes of light on the floor by each window. A few papers lay strewn about. They had probably fallen off of the clutter on the desk. Emma’s face fell at the thought off all those papers she’d have to go through. In addition, there was a file cabinet the size of the entire wall on the other side of the room.

Here’s to hoping he at least organizes his mess.

Emma stood in the centre of the office for a moment, letting her eyes gloss over everything. A painting of two well-dressed men hung on the wall between the windows. The original brothers Jones perhaps? She studied them for a second, squinting her eyes against the light-

The desk chair shifted. The screech of wooden legs against wooden floor lingered. What the hell?

Emma narrowed her eyes at the desk. “Someone there?”

No one answered. Emma kept her eyes on the back of the desk. Whoever hiding there wasn’t doing a very good job. But why was someone hiding there? She was about to say something again or walk over to the desk and expose who ever hid there when the chair shifted once more.

“Swan?”

A head of dark hair popped up from under the desk.

“Hook?”

He looked as surprised as she felt.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you, love.”

“Hey, I had a key. You’re… hiding under a desk.”

Hook, still crouched on the floor, surveyed the desk with amusement. “Not as much hiding as enjoying the view. You’ll find that the spaces under desks are quite riveting here in England.”

This guy was full of crap.

Hook scooted the chair further backwards and stood tall behind the desk. Emma’s eyes flickered between him and the men in the painting behind him, a part of her noticing an odd resemblance. The thought was fleeting though.

Hook surveyed Emma as she surveyed him. A challenge sparked between them. Who would explain themselves first?

“You didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who hides under tables.”

“Then what kind of man did I strike you as?” He dodged her meaning with a lewd grin.

“A cheeky bastard,” Emma deadpanned. He laughed at that. “Seriously, how did you even get in here? The door to the building was locked and I didn’t see any open windows.”

“I have my ways,” Hook wiggled his fingers in the air. Emma narrowed her eyes at him again. She hadn’t slept on the shoulder of some criminal had she?

“What are you doing here?” She kept her voice low and level, turning on her lawyer persona.

Hook feigned a sigh and walked around the desk to stand in front of it as he spoke. “If you must know, Swan, I was merely looking around. My father used to be great friends with Barrie. I’m simply interested in learning about the man I’m here to pay respects to on the behalf of my departed father.”

Something ticked inside Emma. Something was off about his words, but she couldn’t place it.

“I panicked a bit when I heard someone coming - wasn’t sure how they would take my snooping about.” A faint blush tinted his cheeks. “The desk seemed the best choice. Precautions and all.” He reached up to scratch a spot behind his ear as he spoke. Then he leaned against the desk behind him, crinkling a few papers as he did so, and raised a brow at Emma. “So, it’s tit for tat, I believe. What’s your story?”

Emma studied him for a moment longer, trying to see why her lie detector was going off. He seemed sincere enough in his words. Something was just… off.

“I’m a lawyer,” she started. “I’m here to finish the sale of the business.”

Hook’s eyes widened for a moment but he was quick to conceal his surprise. Not before Emma noticed though.

“I suppose that’s rather hard to do with Barrie deceased,” he said.

You have no idea, Emma thought.

“It complicates things…” She paused, realizing that Hook’s sudden presence could be a great help to her. “Hey, if you say your dad knew Barrie well, did he ever mention a Liam Jones? Barrie’s nephew?”

Hook swallowed and shook his head slightly. “Not much. He died at sea about a decade ago, didn’t he?”

He fidgeted ever so little, but enough for Emma to see. He was hiding something. Definitely.

“No, not really. But I guess I have to start looking through all the papers in here to figure out more.” Her shoulders dropped in a show of exhaustion.

“Important for the sale, is he?”

Emma smiled, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Afraid I can’t tell.”

“Ah, of course. Lawyers and their confidentiality.”

“At least not until you tell me what it is you’re not telling me,” Emma finished.

“Pardon?”

“You’re hiding something. What is it?”

Hook challenged her by mirroring her stance, arms folded and brows raised. “What makes you so sure I’m hiding something?”

“You wouldn’t be so defensive if you weren’t.” She’d rather not have to explain her superpower to him.

Hook gave up the challenge quicker than she had expected. He dropped the teasing look and uncrossed his arms. When he reached into his pocket, Emma’s back stiffened. She didn’t really think he was keeping something harmful. Still. Precautions and all.

“In truth, Swan, this is why I’m here.”

Emma looked at the object in his hand, carefully held out for her to see.

“A compass?”

“Aye. Not just any compass though,” Hook kept his eyes on it as he spoke, running his thumb over the glass. “My father gave it to Barrie once long ago. I never completely understood the significance of it, but it meant a great deal to my old man”

“So you’re stealing it.”

“I do have the name of a pirate, don’t I?” Hook grinned. And dammit, Emma couldn’t help but smile too. Just a little. She barely even lifted the corners of her mouth.

“I’m not proud of the way I handled the situation when I heard you coming, but in all honesty, I don’t think I could have been more relieved than I was when I heard that American accent of yours.” There he was again with the smarmy words.

“I just told you I’m a lawyer. Shouldn’t you be scared I’m going to hand you over to the cops or something?”

“Will you?”

His stare feigned honest wonder, but he clearly didn’t believe she would. What made him so sure of that? Emma held his stare for a few seconds before shrugging.

“Not really worth it. No one else is gonna find much use of that thing but you, so I guess I can let it slide.”

“I am most grateful, Swan,” Hook bowed his head at her and tucked the compass back into his jacket.

“Yeah, well, you should probably get going before I change my mind.”

He gave her look that easily read ‘you wouldn’t dare’. Nonetheless, he pushed away from the desk and almost made to leave.

“Could I be of any assistance with looking through all the papers?”

Emma smiled. “Nah. You know, ‘lawyers and their confidentiality’ and all that.”

Hook’s lips curled in a grin. Once again, he nodded his head at Emma.

“I’ll see you around then, Swan.”

She wanted to ask why he was so sure of that, but remembered he would probably be at the memorial in the evening as well. Furthermore, he was already on his way through the door.

“Stay out of trouble ‘till then,” she called after him.

“I’ll do my best.” Hook closed the door with one last cheeky smile. His descent down the stairs rattled the office and echoed even when all went silent again. Emma stood in the office alone, trying to gather her thoughts. And motivation. She probably could have used an extra hand for all these papers. She’d look for letters first, that would at least narrow it down. And a list of workers at the factory - Barrie couldn’t possibly be running everything on his own.

Emma set to work, finding a quiet rhythm, glad to at least be doing something. If only her cheeks would cool down.

[oanda-pp]

Pink Himalayan Salt Is a Waste of Money

Sure it looks nice, but claims that it’s cleaner and more nutritious than regular salt are dubious at best.

Zoran Djekic / Stocksy

Right around January 1 the past few years, Google searches for “pink Himalayan salt” spike like your blood pressure after consuming a bucket of French fries. To become a better, healthier version of yourself, apparently, you absolutely must switch to using luscious pink-tinged salt crystals instead of those factory-refined white grains. Or so wellness experts and influencers might lead us to believe—and lots of us probably want to believe so we can feel less bad about craving salt.

While all trendy foods have hyperbole built into their marketing (looking at you, bone broth aka expensive meat tea) pink Himalayan salt might take the cake: Yes, it costs more, but it’s natural, unrefined salt with dozens of minerals and elements that’s extracted by hand from mines untouched by pollution! And it looks nice!

As Amanda Mull recently wrote in The Atlantic, we can attribute pink salt’s popularity to its pleasing appearance combined with trendy concepts of wellness in which “single foods or ingredients end up with a vague reputation for quasi-medicinality, often based on notions of their purity or naturalness.”

OK fine, but is pink salt healthier than regular table salt?

The wellness claims about pink salt range from dumb to dangerous. Dr. Axe says pink Himalayan salt is “cleaner” and more nutritious than regular salt. His site even swears it’s a natural sleep inducer. GOOP promises its $40 Pink Himalayan Salt Scrub will “detoxify” your skin. SoWell.com swears breathing pink salt-ified air will cure your asthma—and conveniently sells the inhaler pipe that will deliver your respiratory salvation. And finally, there’s this mumbo-jumbo over on HimalayanCrystalSalt.com about a 2007 study using an Optimized Wellness Analyzer to evaluate pink salt’s effect on “wellness” versus a placebo. Surprise: The pink salt group scored healthier when evaluated by the wellness analyzer. Less of a surprise: I couldn’t find the study on PubMed or Google Scholar, and the website doesn’t cite which peer-reviewed journal the study was published in.

If any of these claims are valid(ish), it’s that pink salt may have more minerals than purified white salt—but it’s a drop in the bucket. “Himalayan salt does contain trace amounts of minerals like potassium, magnesium, iron, and more, but the amounts are insignificant and afford no additional health benefits,” says Jeff McGrath, a clinical dietitian at Westchester Medical Center, the university hospital of New York Medical College. And as long as you’re eating a healthy, balanced diet, you’re probably not in need of these elements, McGrath says. (In case you’re wondering where the salt’s rosy hue comes from, it probably comes from “Iron oxide, AKA rust,” says Catherine Brennan, a Rhode Island-based registered dietitian. Yum.)

Speaking of its nutritional value, pink Himalayan salt usually doesn’t contain significant amounts of iodine, which is an essential nutrient, Brennan says. While iodine deficiencies are uncommon in the United States (thanks to salt with iodine added, aka iodized salt), it’s a real problem around the globe. “Iodine’s main function is as an important component of thyroid hormones,” Brennan says.“Persons deficient in iodine cannot make enough thyroid hormone, which can lead to hypothyroidism, or even enlargement of the thyroid—known as goiter."

And, “Ironically, Himalayan pink salt also contains barely detectable amounts of elements that would be harmful if isolated and consumed in large doses, such as arsenic and uranium,” McGrath says.

Claims that Himalayan salt is somehow more natural or pure than regular table salt are hard to verify—and may not really matter. “In the current food world, the term ‘natural’ means very little,” Brennan says. Yes, white salt is cleaned, heated, and treated with anti-caking agents, she explains, but sometimes a little bit of scrubbing can be a good thing. “Depending on the source, pink salt may contain some harmful trace minerals such as lead.”

If you want to keep buying pink Himalayan salt, that’s fine—just know that it’s not any better for you than boring, old white salt. And sorry not sorry: Pink Himalayan salt-laced potato chips, popcorn, and chocolate bars are not health foods.

But please, please, please don’t drink Himalayan salt mixed with a glass of water each morning the way some health and lifestyle bloggers and salt companiesurge you to. While that’s a great way to sell salt, “The American diet tends to provide significantly more sodium than is required,” McGrath says, adding that “excess sodium intake contributes to high blood pressure, which can eventually cause strokes and lead to heart and kidney failure.”

What about that stuff about pink salt helping you breathe better?

Don’t expect pink salt lamps or salt rooms to cure your asthma either. “In Eastern Europe and Russia, people have been descending into salt caves to treat respiratory diseases, but we don’t have very much rigorous data on it,” says Maureen George, an associate professor at Columbia University’s School of Nursing. “If the air contains microscopic salt crystals, that can cause a change in the mucus in the lungs and can cause coughing, which some find worsen their asthma, but some find it makes them feel better,” she says. Still, any results would be temporary.

There is one study, published in Pediatric Pulmonology in 2016, that found children’s asthma did improve directly after a “halotherapy” session, aka time spent in a salt room. However, George points out that the study only used children with asthma so moderate they didn’t need daily inhaler treatment, and that the results were measured only right after the session. “It’s a small signal that immediately after the artificial salt room therapy that kids in this trial had better quality of life scores and less airway twitchiness,” she says, but, “we don’t have any long-term, rigorously designed studies or large, randomized studies.”

Furthermore, to get the better-breathing benefits, you’d need the salt particles to be in the air—and a nightstand salt lamp definitely isn’t going to produce that result.

Still, if you want to go sit in a salt room to meditate, George isn’t going to stop you. “I’m a scientist, but I’m really into letting people do what works for them, and we know that mind-body interventions can be a powerful tool” she says. Just don’t stop using your asthma meds without consulting your physician.

Finally, the pink salt inhalers are likely useless for asthma treatment. “The device they’re using is not FDA-approved and looks like something that would only impact the upper respiratory tract. It’s what would land in your nose and mouth,” George explains. Getting medicine deep into your lungs—where it’s actually going to help you—is pretty tricky. “The tech in asthma inhalers is really complicated. It’s all about particle size and carriers.”

Anything else I need to know?

Most of these pink Himalayan salt remedies aren’t going to hurt you (minus the daily saltwater-chugging routine, that is not good). But overpaying for seasonings and snacks and shelling out $40 for a useless product smarts. And trust us, no matter what GOOP tells you, rubbing salt in the wound—even if it’s pink and (kinda) from the Himalayas—won’t help.

Oh yeah, and only kinda from the Himalayas. Banish those images of gorgeous pink salt mountain cliffs rising into the clouds in the world’s highest mountain range: Most pink Himalayan salt actually comes from a Pakistani government-owned mine that’s south of the famed mountains. The Khewra Salt Mine is now a tourist attraction, but its history is violent. During British colonial rule, the British forced locals to work in slave-like conditions in the mine. Even today, wages are low. Pakistani newspaper The Dawn reported in 2018 that a miner makes 350 Pakistani rupees, or about $2.50, for every ton of salt excavated. Think about that the next time you spend $5.99 for four ounces of the stuff on Amazon.

This article originally appeared on Tonic.

[hungrywhovianjedi]

It Hurts To See You and Him

Hook is pulled into a curse which sends him back in time, to when Neal and Emma are on their whirl-wind romance, robbing convenience stores, and squatting in hotel rooms. But what will Killian do when August comes into play and he has to watch Emma experience the heartbreak that built all of her walls? Will he change the past? Or let Emma down in her time of need?

Chapter 7

read the rest

Prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6

also on FFN

tagging a few who showed interest last chapter: @teamhook​ @flyflyangel​ @revanmeetra87​

Killian and Neal shared a look, Killian had the dagger tucked back into his coat. Neal nodded at the pirate. Then taking twin breaths, the two men stepped into the swirling maelstrom. The magic swirled around them, filling all of their senses. Then just as the first two times Killian had been through them within the past few trips, it was gone suddenly.

Neal stumbled, "Jesus Christ!" he gasped, "That was a trip."

Killian chuckled, "Aye, first time, I ended up in a pile of trash." He glanced at his companion, the night air cool, as an owl hooted nearby. "It was certainly smoother when Zelena cast it." he said, "Come, I believe this is the correct night. So we have to hurry." He said, starting forward without waiting for a response.

Neal hesitated for a moment. He thought of all those moments he and Emma shared, him helping Henry with his first steps. Taking them to Navy Pier on vacation when Henry was six. Their little house in Tallahassee, dancing with Emma at their wedding. Hearing their son's first words "Dada" reading the little boy bedtime stories. Holding Emma's hand as she gave birth. Holding her as they watched the sunset from the hood of the bug, Henry sleeping soundly between them. Kissing her in the rain, after a nasty fight, where Emma had almost left him, taking Henry with her. Finding an old beat up storybook in a bookstore, for their son, who was just turning ten.

With one moment in time once changed, all of it would be gone. "Baelfire? Are you coming?" Hook asked, from where he stood at the corner, "I recognize this place."

Neal felt a scowl despite his efforts. Hook. While he lost everything, He would be getting everything. Then that night flashed through his mind. The darkness, swirling down towards Regina, and Emma coming up with an idea. Running forward before they could stop her, the dagger plunging into the inky blackness, as it switched its target, swirling around her, swallowing her. So with a cough he nodded, and followed Killian. He needed to save Emma. No matter how much it might kill him.

They followed the path Hook took on his first trip through. Spotting August finishing up packing his bike before he left. He paused, mouth open "What?" The puppet asked curiously. Both men ignored him, and carried on.

When they came to the phone booth, Killian and Neal both paused, neither wanting to see what came next happen. Neither wanted her heart to break. But both knew there was no other option. They had to keep Emma from filling her heart with darkness.

They saw past Neal pacing in front of the phone booth. Torn by indecision. Then he moved forward, stepped in, and held up the coins.

"Stop." Past Killian says in a stern voice.

Killian watches as Neal goes rigid. Fear radiating off of the man, as he responds quiet enough that the two men on the sidelines couldn't hear, thought they both knew what was said.

The past pirate steps into the light, looking menacing and angry, "Don't make that call." He warns in a low voice, that carries perfectly, "It'll be the biggest mistake of your life."

Neal scowls, clenching his fist at his side, "It would be easier to do it now." He growls, "Get it done with. It'll be easier."

Killian shook his head, "You and I both know it won't be. I was very angry here. We don't want me murdering you, because you turned her dark."

"I didn't!" Neal hissed.

A glance from pirate to thief, "He won't care. He'll see the name, and he'll attack. I may be reformed, but that doesn't mean the pirate is gone."

"Question is, will you let history repeat itself?" Past Killian was asking.

"So we wait till you guilt me into staying, then we guilt me into leaving?" Neal glared, "We're gonna give past me whiplash"

"What is this? Back to the future?" Neal throws up his hands with a laugh, "Okay Marty McFly, next are you going to tell me I have to go punch you and become her hero?"

"I still have no idea what that means." Killian admitted, "Though Emma said something similar when we took the time portal of Zelena's."

Neal huffed softly, "Doesn't surprise me. We used to love watching that movie together."

"In the future, I love her. It took so long to get her heart to open up, she was broken when I met her. That call destroys Emma Swan the way she is." He warns. Killian knew he was right. Knew that the Emma he knew, was not the Emma blindly trusting Neal Cassidy.

"Maybe that's what makes the savior." Past Neal reasons. Neal grits his teeth. Knowing that he had really believed that. But there was also that familiar tang of fear. Fear that his father would find him. That he would end up right back where he was when he was a boy. Firmly beneath his father's thumb. Though it had helped that Rumpelstiltskin hadn't known it was him, until he was about to yank Emma out of town, to try and find him.

That had been the source of one of the greatest fights he and Emma ever had. She had almost punched him right there, because he had kept that from her. Had never told her he knew about the magic, when he had encouraged her to listen to Henry, and find Storybrooke. The town their son was certain held all the secrets of her life.

"Like father, like son." He hears past Killian growl.

"That was a low blow." Neal said to Killian beside him.

Killian shakes his head, "I had no other option left. You denied me. I needed to convince you."

"I'm nothing like my father." The younger man said in a harsh voice, turning his back to the older pirate.

"Still. Really shitty move. Doubt you'd like me saying you were just like your dad." Neal reasoned, "Something tells me we have shitty father figures in common."

Killian gritted his teeth, thinking not for the first time in the past few months, that he would become like Brennan Jones. But he knew in his heart, he would never abandon Henry. Nor any child that he and Emma might ever have. "I fear I might already be becoming so." He said softly. "Brennan Jones was a criminal, and I am no better."

Neal surprised him by laughing a low laugh, that their past counterparts would not hear, "I'd say you must be. From the look on your face, Brennan Jones wouldn't be fighting so hard to get back to a woman. Or a kid that isn't his."

Killian sighed, "Considering I would never leave Henry in the binds of slavery to buy passage to escape my crimes. I would say, in that way, I am different from my father. But in all the rest, I can claim no innocence."

"You must have done something right though. If you got Emma to fall in love with you." Neal whispered, as he heard his past self to yell for Hook to wait, "I was a good father." He tells him, "Despite what I may have done. I was a good father for Henry. A good husband for Emma. I never hurt them."

Killian looked over to the other man, and saw how much he was hurting. "I'm sorry. I know. I could see it in your eyes, the way you shielded your son. I know. I'm sorry I have to take that away from you." He looked down in shame, "I'm sorry that I made you know what you could have had."

"I wouldn't change it." Neal said softly. "Even if I stop existing right now, because you change it. I wouldn't trade getting to love Emma Swan. Even if that stubborn woman wouldn't take my name when we got married. I wouldn't trade a second."

Killian looks him in the eye, before the moment is broken, by Neal calling after Killian below them, "Then I won't." Past Neal promises.

"Unfortunately." Killian said softly, as the other him called back, "You will make that call."

Neal closed the phone booth, and was starting to leave, when Neal called out to him. "Hey, Stop."

Past Neal froze. "Who's there?" he demanded.

"It's us, mate." Killian said as he and Neal stepped out into the light.

"Hook?" He asked, eyes darting down the road, "What the hell?" Then his eyes landed on the other Neal, "What the hell?" he asked again.

"Surprise." Neal said, shrugging his shoulders, "Listen man. I know what other Hook there said…"

"No!" They were both unsurprised by his anger.

"It's the only way. Things from when I'm from? Not good. Really not good." Neal reasoned with his past self, "And this?" he gestured between them, "Is the only way to protect Emma."

Past Neal cut to Hook, "He changed your mind pretty quick, huh? Five seconds ago, you were telling me not to."

Killian nodded, "Things change. I saw where the decision to lead, and it's not good."

"It was for a long time, thirteen years. It was good for thirteen years. But, something happened. Something happened to Emma." Neal corrected. "This is the only way to protect her." He said, ducking his head.

"Like hell. I'm not letting you talk me out of this. I'm not leaving Emma, and my son."

"You didn't care a moment ago." Killian stated, with a raised brow.

Neal glared at him, "Well, things change, mate." He snapped, "I'm not abandoning my son."

"So you would rather her turn dark?" the older Neal questioned, "Because that's what happens. You stay, she goes dark."

Neal let out a laugh, "Yeah right." He glared at Killian "You did this. Decided that you couldn't live without her? So you thought, I'll just go back, and make sure she gets to be mine?"

Killian glared, "No. I wouldn't do that to Henry. Or Emma. They don't deserve what you need to do." He reached into his coat, hand closing around the hilt of the dagger, "But you know what? Emma doesn't deserve this either!" He snarled, whipping it out, letting it hang in the air between them. Emma's name clearly etched onto its surface.

Neal looked down, with a silent sorrow, as past Neal recoiled in fear, "No!" he gasped, his eyes focused on the dagger, then cut to Neal, then back to Killian, "This is a joke, right? Emma's not… Rumpelstiltskin, my father, he's the dark one. Not Emma."

"He is, if you make that call." Neal told him, forcing Killian's arm down, taking the dagger, which filled him with dread out of sight. "But if you don't. If you choose to go to Emma, you set her on the path to this." He gestured to the dagger that Killian held in a death grip.

"I guess August was right…" Neal whispered, "So, I leave Emma, she's okay?" This time it was aimed at Killian.

"Eventually. It takes her a long time to trust again. But she'll be fine, one day." He says truthfully, "When last I saw her, she was dancing beneath the stars. Her light shone so bright. I'm trying to reconcile that Emma with the one that we are here to save. I can't, there was no light in her eyes. She was not the woman either of us love."

Neal shook his head, "So I leave, she's happy? I stay, she's the dark one." He looked up at his future self, "Not much of a choice."

"Let her go. I'll protect her heart, once she lets me. I promise. Just let Emma go. Protect her heart."

"By breaking it."

Killian looked down, "Aye, but a broken heart can be healed, a darkened heart is dark forever." Killian wanted to reach out. Wanted to comfort the man in front of him, "I'm sorry." He turned to the Neal he had come with, "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make this any easier," Neal growled, but he turned away from Killian and the older Neal and went to the phone again, and he dialed. He told the police where to find Emma. That she had one of the watches, and when he was done, he turned to speak to the two men who came to warn him, but they were gone. Just like when he woke alone in a world he didn't know all those years ago. Neal had lost everything.

~~CS~~

When Killian came to, he was laying on his back aboard the Jolly Roger He groaned, throwing an arm over his face.

"Gee, I didn't think I'd tired you out that badly. Here I thought you could hold your rum." A familiar, feminine voice joked, he peered over his arm, and felt a smile tugging at his lips.

"Not at all, lass. I was simply overwhelmed by your absence." He joked, "I'm being dramatic, the lad mentioned it worked on you,"

Emma laughed, a full and light laugh, "Oh now did he?" She questioned, "I'm going to have to have a talk with that kid,"

He sat up, "Perhaps, or you could come and give a pirate a kiss."

She shook her head, "You never give up, do you." She chuckled, moving in closer. "But, I was never very good at saying no." she said, ghosting her lips over his. He took control, catching her and pulling her down into his lap, and kissing her fully.

She pulled back, "What was that for?" she asked, kissing his jaw.

He smiled, "I just missed you is all." He whispered, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

Sneak peek at next week!

Killian couldn't breathe, this wasn't happening. He wasn't going to lose her like this.