#CS canon divergent from s2

[spartanguard]

Let's spread some love 😘. What are some of your top five favourite cs fics?

Thanks for the ask, nonnie! However, I have to admit—I couldn't limit myself to just 5 fics! There's WAY too many good ones in this fandom.

So here's a rundown of some of my all-time faves, though I'm positive I'm missing some. Here goes, in no particular order:

break me by @thisonesatellite. Just—the coolest supernatural story and I just LOVE how she wrote Killian in this, as angsty as it is.

Given the Choice by @iverna. There are lots of good 3B canon divergence stories out there and this is hands-down my favorite.

The Path that Moonbeams Make by @madlymel. This one goes all the way back to S2 and is a fair bit angsty and whumpy, but just SO gorgeous. (If you like it, there's some great art for it here by @cocohook38.)

Dark Horse by @initiala. Absolutely stunning modern AU that is also so charming (with the right amount of perfectly done angst).

Days of Future's Past by @optomisticgirl. B is a master world builder and it shows here, with this absolutely incredible time-travel story.

The Masks We Wear by @katie-dub. CS Superhero AU wherein they both have to keep their secret identity from each other. Delicious and SO well done.

Make You Feel Good by @phiralovesloki. I could put so many more of hers on here (as goes for just about every author on this list) but this one is just so FUN. (Rated very M and probably the best magical gender swapping fic out there.)

The Librarian by @mryddinwilt. One of my FAVORITE Cursed!Killian stories, partly because she changed him more than you typically see with that trope, and also because she gave him GLASSES.

Acquainted with the Night by @caprelloidea. Absolutely swoon-worthy Dark CS in a no-curse AU. I LOVE ME some good Dark CS and this is IT, y'all.

The Fluffy Problem by @ineffablecolors. This one also goes back to S2(ish) and is, quite literally, pure fluff. Also proof that CS will fall in love in any way, shape, or form.

Not One of Those Stories, also by @ineffablecolors (she has SO MANY GOOD STORIES btw). The gold—er, silver—standard when it comes to older!Killian stories. Perfectly slipped into a modern setting. I just re-read it again and, ugh— YES.

I could honestly go on and on with more fics (especially older ones!). But if you don't mind some digging, there's a lot of good stuff in my CS fic rec and CSFRM tags.(like, ANCIENT stuff, and there were a good two years of fics before I got active in the fandom.) There are so many gems out there—keep on digging!

[justmilah]

selkie fic ! selkie fic ! selkie fic ! selkie fic! (➡️ saw the selkie fic as one of ur wips and have to know more about it right this second right now)

OKAY SO LIKE! Currently all that is officially done is a very rough outline of what I like to call the 'before.'

And then I had two different ideas on what to do from there.

ETA: BUT ALSO LIKE, SELKIE MILAH AU?! I want this too??

Both would be canon compliantish to a point? The first one would diverge in s2. I've been flailing a lot with @moonbeamnights so I don't know what is what in regards to it, but I think this will be the way I go with it? What I do know is that while it won't be CS it will be Emma Friendly because as we all know the show showed us in Devil's Due that Artist Swan could have had a great bromance.

The second is under the cut because it involves WishHook and since I'm not using it because I have another post s7 fic I'm working on I just wanna babble about my idea for a bit xD

My thought was, when the wish realm was made, because that whole curse thing Gothel put on Killian, the wish kind of figured a curse NEEDS a cure so it creeps back a few centuries to make sure a TLK could be possible. And how can that be without changing too much? Milah's a selkie. And because of the way she was wrapped with her coat, it got stuck, so she couldn't take it off and then randomly one day Wish Hook asks OG Hook 'you ever figure out why that seal's been following us?' and he's just like '...what seal?' LISTEN IF YOU THINK THIS IDEA IS FARFETCHED I CAME UP WITH A WAY TO INCORPORATE SAILOR MOON MYTHOS TO OUAT SEVERAL YEARS AGO

[snowbellewells]

@cosette141 This chapter was so much rolled into one - and so many surprising developments I could not have foreseen, but which really deepened and added to the richness of the story. The whole opening section was not something I could have even thought of writing, and yet it very much humanized Regina in this version of events, and even Cora to some degree. It’s incredible what a difference having her heart could have made, and it certainly serves to make you wonder how things could have played out from there in canon. (Of course Gold had a contingency plan and ulterior motive in seeing Cora’s heart returned, so she didn’t live long enough to see how in would have gone on the show.) Just one more way you are really spinning something new and different to think about and ponder the what ifs…

It also really worked having that middle section told from Snow’s perspective. She wasn’t present for battle and so her desperation to get to her family and make sure they survived in intense and almost palpable. It really picks up the pace of this section segment. And then the things she notices as she pieces events together allow us as readers to notice them right along with her in a really natural, effective way. I particularly love how she watches David, how she notices Emma and Killian’s closeness, and the trust they show when both had always been so closed off before. It just works really brilliantly!

And then Emma with Killian, her trust in him yes, her happiness, but also her desperate wish not to let him go, not to have it somehow slip away. It’s SO good!!!! 💕💕💕 I just really don’t know how else to say it, other than to squeal over one of several favorite moments: “He held her right back, hand brushing over her hair, and it felt just as safe as it did in the apartment, in New York. She should be afraid of the overwhelming emotion, she should be afraid of how quickly she developed a need for him, but every fear evaporated in his embrace. She smiled against his chest, feeling lighter than she's ever felt before. And she felt him kiss her hair, making her heart jump and her eyes burn a little because no one has ever wanted her like this before.”

Love, love, LOVE- as per usual!!

Begin Again (OUAT fanfic) | Chapter 6

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Pairing: Captain Swan

Words: 7k (this chapter) | 34k (total, so far)

Summary: (s2 "Manhattan" divergence) No one breaks a deal with Rumplestiltskin, and Emma finds herself facing the wrath of the Dark One. What if Neal didn't come back for Emma in NYC, but instead, Hook showed up to kill Rumplestiltskin early? No one has ever saved Emma before, and Hook has never been able to save anyone at all. It's time for them both to tell a different story. Together. CS

Read this chapter (chp 6) on AO3

Chapter 1: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 2: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 3: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 4: A03 | tumblr

Chapter 5: AO3 | tumblr

a/n: Hi guys! I hope this chapter reads well. I never would have expected this story to include relationships other than Hook and Emma, or to include so many plot elements haha, but there wasn't really a way around it without including some. So I'm going to do my best to keep the focus on captain swan and fill in plot stuff as briefly as I can. When I started this story, the first chapter was a oneshot lol, and I've never written a story that has the scale this one seems to be heading toward, so I hope I do it justice xD But it's been so fun to see how things change with Gold gone, and I just freaking love writing captain swan lol.

So I hope you guys like this one :) ~cosette141

Chapter 6

Regina couldn't breathe.

Her mother was smiling.

At her.

There was no ulterior motive in her eyes, no coldness.

There was… love.

It was something she'd always dreamed of, always imagined.

How hadn't she realized how important having a heart could be?

"My baby," said Cora, that smile of hers growing. "You are enough."

It was like the icy grip around Regina's own heart suddenly melted.

The words washed through her like cool water, like relief.

"I am?" she whispered. Then, even quieter, she asked, "Mom?" It was like a question, like she needed to confirm that the woman who had looked and sounded like her mother, but was always out of reach, was finally here.

Cora just stared at her like she was looking at her for the first time in her life, like how Regina had looked at Henry the first time she held him. Slowly, gently, Cora reached for her face, her hands holding her, thumbs brushing over her skin. And it made Regina's eyes water because Cora had never touched her like this before.

"Regina…" Cora whispered, like she was saying her name for the first time. Cora touched her own chest for a moment, looking overwhelmed. Human. "It feels like the first time I've ever truly seen you."

"So you're not mad at me?" whispered Regina breathlessly, tears welling. "For giving you back your heart?"

"How could I be?" said Cora, shaking her head at the idea, even more warmth in her eyes. "Sweetheart, you gave me you." Cora suddenly pulled her into a hug. And the tears in Regina's eyes fell, because she's never done this before.

"I can't believe I wasted all these years not realizing I had everything I always wanted," Cora said over her shoulder. "I just wanted you to have everything I never had," she said softly, her voice giving into a hurt.

"I just wanted love," whispered Regina, hugging Cora, her mother, back even tighter.

And Cora returned it, making hot tears fall even faster down Regina's cheeks.

Pulling away a little, Cora looked at her, heartache in her eyes. "Regina… the boy you… Daniel… I am so sorry, Regina." And Cora's own eyes suddenly welled with tears, like her emotions were overwhelming her. "My dear… Regina, I've hurt you so deeply." Her face scrunched, emotion coloring eyes that Regina had never realized were brown underneath the blackness of all these years. She stumbled back away from Regina, hand over her mouth, and Regina suddenly saw her fingers shake. "What have I done to you, Regina?"

"It—It's not your fault," said Regina, almost robotically, the words worn and rehearsed over in her head a million times. Something she's forced herself to believe for years and years. "It was Snow White." Smiling a little, because it was so much easier to hate Snow White than the mother she finally got back, she smiled a watery smile. "She broke her promise. It wasn't your fault."

But Cora's eyes only grew richer in heartbreak. "I cannot stand to lie to you any longer with… with this," she whispered, fingers again touching her chest over her heart. "Honey, it was me," she said in a choked voice, like every second was overwhelming her more with emotions. "I made sure you saved her, I orchestrated your meeting, it was my doing, Regina." A tear slipped down Cora's cheeks. "I convinced young Snow to tell me your secret under a false pretense."

Regina blinked, tears freezing on her cheeks for a moment. She felt her emotions warring with each other.

That day that Cora had crushed Daniel's heart, the day that had changed Regina forever…

All these years, she knew she couldn't defeat, kill, get her vengeance from her mother for the actual committing of Daniel's death.

It was always easier to hate Snow.

Snow she could kill.

She had once thought, though she just would not die.

And the fact that True Love kept saving Snow's life over and over again, when Regina had lost hers, did not help.

Regina found herself looking at her mother, her emotions in chaos as she tried to make sense of it all.

Daniel…

She'd loved him more than anyone in the world, apart from her father (however differently). And he'd loved her back. They'd shared what Regina had once thought True Love, even if they'd only known each other a short time.

But in truth, Regina couldn't even exactly remember the sound of Daniel's voice, or many of the things he'd said to her. It was well over forty years since she'd known him; she was fully awake those twenty-eight years of the curse, and she was just beginning to feel them.

The urge to keep the blame on Snow White was blinding.

But she found her eyes welling again with tears that hurt as she looked at her mother.

Her mother, whom she had finally gotten for the first time.

The love she finally had to give.

And the fresh tears of age-old pain fell over her cheeks again, and she whispered, "You hurt me." And all the blame, all the hurt, all the hatred and the agony she had placed into Snow seized her chest in something that hurt. "I loved him. I loved him so much," her voice broke, and Cora hugged her again, tight and with tears of her own.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered over her shoulder. "I am so sorry, Regina."

"I don't want to be angry with you," admitted Regina, hugging her back.

"Shh," whispered Cora. "It's all right. I deserve your feelings, Regina. All of them." And Regina cried, shutting her eyes, feeling Cora hold her, whispering, "I will spend my life making it up to you, my little girl."

And as broken as it all was, Regina felt something inside her change.

It was relief as much as it was pain, like a broken dam.

It felt like starting over.

-.-.-.-.-.

Mary Margaret's heart pounded as she bolted through the forest all the way to Gold's shop. No one was answering their phones.

Absolute terror was coursing through her.

It only increased when she made it to the shop.

She staggered to a stop in shock.

The entire place was practically in shambles. The front wall had been blown clean off, the roof was half gone, half caving in, and the walls were barely holding the structure together. Debris and dust were everywhere.

"David, Emma," breathed Mary Margaret, running even faster, stepping carefully over the debris. "No," she choked out, only freezing when she was on the sidewalk, and saw something that made her jaw drop.

Regina and Cora were standing in the middle of the wreckage that used to be the room of the shop, helping David to his feet.

For a moment, Mary Margaret wondered if she was dreaming.

But as she approached, heart lodged somewhere in her throat, they helped him to lean against a still-standing cabinet, and there she could see something wrong with his leg.

But he was alive.

"David!" she cried, rushing to David's side.

Already Mary Margaret could see something different.

Cora… she had color in her face.

There was a… a something about her that wasn't there before. It was as if seeing someone become themself after playing a part. They were the same… but different.

"It's all right," said David when he saw her, giving a winced smile, as he looked from Cora and Regina to her, looking like he was just as stunned by the situation as she was. "I… think," he added, brows kneading, and not looking like he was fully sure of that.

"Where's Emma?" asked Mary Margaret, looking for her, heart pounding again.

"She's fine," he said quickly. "She's okay. She went to check on Hook I think," he said, something else in his eyes at that.

Mary Margaret released the breath she'd been holding, finding her eyes on Regina and Cora again.

Cora was regarding David's leg, and murmured, "Allow me."

Mary Margaret blinked.

Did… did Cora just offer her help?

"Uh—" began David, incredibly unsure, but before he could say anything, Cora lifted her hand. With a flare of Cora's hand, a slight purple glow spun around David's knee, and he sucked in a breath, making Mary Margaret flinch, tightening her hand on his arm. But just a moment later, David let out a breath in relief. "Wow," he said, lifting himself from the cabinet and testing out his leg. "Uh, thanks," he said to Cora, that awkward, unsure lilt to his voice.

"It was my doing," said Cora, smile faltering.

Mary Margaret looked between them. "Okay, what the hell is going on?"

"I gave my mother her heart back," said Regina.

Mary Margaret's brows lifted.

She hadn't even thought of such a thing. "You did?"

Looking at Regina, Cora said, "And I thank goodness she did."

"So…" said Mary Margaret cautiously, muscles still rigid. "Does this mean…?"

"I will not hurt you or your family, if that's what you're asking," said Cora, with a winced smile. "My darling, Snow," she said quietly, looking at Mary Margaret with a look that reminded Mary Margaret of her own mother. She had never expected to see such a thing on Cora, of all people. "I am so sorry for the pain I caused you."

Mary Margaret's brows shot up. "You're—you're what?" whispered Mary Margaret, suddenly feeling like a little girl again. When she had looked to Cora with big eyes, hoping she could be someone to look up to after her own mother had gone.

Regina let out a heavy, weary breath. But she looked Mary Margaret in the eye, and it made Mary Margaret tense. But instead, Regina said, "If you hadn't mentioned that she didn't have the ability to love… I wouldn't have thought to return her heart." With a huge, heavy, almost reluctant breath, Regina said, "Thank you."

Mary Margaret gaped.

It took a little shake from David for Mary Margaret to find her voice. "I, uhm, I… Regina," she managed. "I'm happy for the two of you."

And for the rest of the world.

Regina's eyes as she looked at her mother seemed to say the same thing.

Movement from outside made them all turn to see Emma walk in, stepping carefully over the debris, making Mary Margaret nearly collapse with relief. Cora turned good, Regina just showed her gratitude, David was safe and so was Emma.

And with surprise, Mary Margaret saw Emma's arm around Hook's back, and the pirate was limping a little, leaning on her for support.

Mary Margaret felt herself freeze at the sight of them.

There was a touch of color that wasn't there before in both their faces. The arm Emma had around Hook's back, her fingers were clutched in the material of his coat. His arm was around her as well, but something about it… it didn't just look like physical support.

Something about it felt…

"David!" said Emma suddenly, seeming to snap out of a daze. "Your leg—" she began.

"Healed," said David with a grin. "Thanks to, well, uh, Cora," he said, a little more awkwardly. But his eyes moved to the pirate, and Mary Margaret was surprised to see not even a spec of the contempt in his eyes. "Hook, you all right?" asked David.

Mary Margaret blinked.

Clearly she missed far more than just the battle that went on in here.

Hook was just as surprised to hear concern from David. It took him a moment to find words. It was like he'd been stuck in the same daze Emma was. "I… er, aye, banged up, is all."

Cora suddenly approached them, making everyone except Regina flinch with the reflex of Cora's reputation. She regarded Hook with something sad. "I'm glad I didn't succeed in killing you." With another sigh, she waved her fingers the same way she did with David, and a slight glow washed over Hook, making his eyes shut. But when the glow faded, he stood a little straighter, tenderly touching his abdomen, seeming surprised to find it painless.

"You were right," murmured Cora to Hook. "It wouldn't have been worth it. It wouldn't have gotten me what I wanted." Turning to Regina, she smiled. "I have what I want right here."

Regina smiled back.

And Hook's eyes suddenly were on Emma, hers on his, and he said just as softly, "I understand entirely."

Mary Margaret blinked, looking from Emma to Hook and back.

And again.

Because though Hook had been healed, and no longer needed Emma's support, neither of them had let go of each other yet.

"Regina, darling," said Cora. "I think we have much to discuss."

Regina smiled, and Cora took her hand, both of them disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

"That was… not the way I expected things to go," said David, once they were gone.

"How close was it?" asked Mary Margaret, knowing for David and Hook to sustain injuries, and the state of the building, it had to have been close.

"Really close," said David, shaking his head. But he looked at Hook, something like awe in his eyes. "Hook," he said, making the pirate stiffen a little, and Mary Margaret saw Emma's fingers tighten on his jacket.

Puzzle pieces were clicking themselves together in her mind, creating an image that was becoming increasingly more curious.

"Cora… she almost killed Emma." said David, and Mary Margaret's chest tightened. "My leg," he said, a wince at the memory, "I couldn't get to her. But… But Hook…" His gaze slowly turning to Hook, he said hollowly, "He sacrificed himself for her."

Mary Margaret felt her brows lift.

"I… I don't really understand how you survived," David went on.

Emma swallowed. More color touching her cheeks, she said, "I, um, it was me. I… saved him with my magic… somehow."

More curious.

"But… why Emma?" asked Mary Margaret. "I thought Cora was trying to kill Hook?"

Hook's eyes suddenly found the floor, something pained slipping into them.

"Yeah," said David slowly, like he was realizing the same. "Cora said… you…"

But Mary Margaret watched the gears turn in his head, and suddenly David was putting two and two together.

"Wait," he said, and Mary Margaret felt herself tense as he put together the picture that she had just formed herself.

"You…" David slowly shook his head like he couldn't understand something, and Mary Margaret saw both Hook and Emma tense a little. "Cora was right? You—You care for Emma?" he said incredulously.

But he didn't need the confirmation that was in Hook's eyes.

Sacrificing his life was the truth as it was.

But Emma suddenly let go of Hook to move in front of him. "David," she said, almost warningly, even though her voice just barely shook.

And more pieces were falling into place, and Mary Margaret watched it happen in her husband's eyes. "Wait," he repeated. "You—" He stopped himself. Looked between them, seeing Emma's fingers grab the edge of Hook's coat. "You care for each other?" he said incredulously.

Emma looked from him to Hook and back, biting her lip. "I–I… yeah," she mumbled, like she was figuring that out for herself in the same moment. And for the first time, Emma sounded young.

Mary Margaret suddenly caught the look of shock on Hook's face, that was far stronger than her own at Emma's admission.

David was frozen in incredulity, and Mary Margaret found herself watching her husband with concern.

Mary Margaret's gaze back on the pirate, whose hand was gently on Emma's arm, she felt her own shock setting in.

Emma and Hook.

Emma and Hook.

Never would she ever expect her daughter, a princess, to fall for a pirate.

Especially not the most notorious pirate in all the realms.

The same one they met in the Enchanted Forest, the one who irritated them all.

Something had obviously happened in New York.

Something had changed in New York.

Because Mary Margaret has never seen Emma so… affectionate. Emma hardly even reciprocates hugs with her. Emma's physical contact was always minimal, even after the time she and Emma spent knowing each other as close friends and roommates, and especially after Emma learned she was her daughter.

Yet ever since the hospital earlier today, Mary Margaret realized in hindsight Hook and Emma had kept as near to each other as they could.

Emma Swan found comfort in someone else for the first time since Mary Margaret had known her.

Emma.

Emma.

For someone to bypass Emma's walls in such a way, to gain not just a semblance of her trust, but all of it?

For someone to do such a thing seemed impossible.

And for it to be Hook?!

But even Hook—his entire presence seemed… different. There wasn't a tension around him, that danger, that distrust of anyone and everything around him. That bitterness and resentment that he quite literally personified for so long.

How could two days change two people who were quite literally the most closed-off people Mary Margaret had ever known?

"Look," said Emma, her voice wavering just a little, and it surprised Mary Margaret to hear. She has never heard Emma so… so…

It clicked.

Vulnerable.

"I know you don't like him, or trust him," she told David, shifting her eyes to Mary Margaret and then back to David. "But I, um… I do," she said, stumbling over the words. And summoning up the strength that sounded more like the Emma that Mary Margaret knew, she said, "But whether or not you want to give Killian a chance, I want him around."

Again, the shock in Hook's eyes surpassed Mary Margaret's own.

Until David's brows kneaded, and he said, "Who's Killian?"

But Emma bit her lip, like she didn't mean to call him that in this moment, and she barely contained a roll of her eyes. "He has a name," she muttered.

The memory returned to Mary Margaret in an instant.

"Who are you?"

"Killian Jones. But most have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker: Hook."

Somehow, the idea of Hook's name softened him. It fit the man that was standing before them, rather than the man they met.

And Hook was still staring at Emma in complete, open shock.

David suddenly approached Hook, and though Emma's expression hardened, Hook just regarded him like he expected another fist to the jaw.

Mary Margaret felt the urge to get in between them, when David said, "What you said to Cora," he said slowly, and Mary Margaret watched Hook swallow hard. "You said you didn't kill Gold for revenge." Looking from Emma to Hook, he said, "You really just killed him to save Emma?"

Hook swallowed again, his eyes gaining something unreadable. He looked at Emma, and Mary Margaret felt herself still. The amount of emotion she elicited in him… it reminded her of how she knew David to feel about her, and she him.

Meeting David's eyes, Hook said, "Aye."

David and Hook held each other's gaze for a long moment, and it felt like the room held its breath.

But finally, David said, "You saved her. Twice." A sigh. "Thank you for doing what I couldn't, Hook. For that… I'll always be grateful." He extended a hand, and Mary Margaret would never get used to seeing such shock in Hook's eyes. With what looked like reluctance, but the heaviness of words Hook earned, David said, "The least I owe you is a chance."

Slowly, still in shock, Hook took his hand, shaking it, giving him a minute nod of thanks, like he was utterly unable to speak.

And Mary Margaret stepped up to David's side, smiling at Hook. "We're both grateful for what you did for Emma." In many, many ways. Ways that Mary Margaret was dying to talk to Emma about. "And if there's anything we've learned today… people certainly can change."

Hook smiled, and Mary Margaret was taken aback a little, by the lack of mischief and ulterior motive in the expression.

He was smiling because he was happy.

He looked at Emma, and from the way her own lips tilted at the sight of him, so was she.

"Mom? Mom!"

The four of them turned at the familiar little voice, and suddenly Henry was running inside, nearly tripping over the debris of the building to get to them.

He raced past Mary Margaret and David, crashing into Emma's arms.

Emma hugged him hard, bending to her knees to hug him properly, and Mary Margaret felt herself smile as she watched Emma's eyes shut. And maybe a pang of hurt in Mary Margaret's own chest, at the desire for her daughter to look at her, to love her, to hug her the way Henry did with Emma.

But Mary Margaret took a breath.

One thing at a time.

"You're okay!" exclaimed Henry over Emma's shoulder.

"Yeah, kid," whispered Emma.

They pulled apart, and Henry smiled brilliantly at her, only to see Hook behind her, and his eyes widened.

"Captain!" he cried excitedly, and to everyone's surprise, he practically tackled Hook in a hug just like the one he gave Emma.

Hook's eyes shot wide, and he caught Henry, stumbling back from the force of the tackle.

The look in Hook's eyes was unlike anything Mary Margaret had ever seen before.

Slowly, Hook's hand settled on Henry's shoulder, and he smiled, something so warm it could have melted ice.

Henry pulled back, giving Hook that bright, overjoyed grin. He turned his hug to Mary Margaret, as well as giving one to David, but Hook looked frozen, like he couldn't believe it happened.

"Where's Cora?" Henry gasped out suddenly, looking from all their faces.

A little more commotion sounded from outside, footsteps, and Ruby's head poked in. "Henry!" she chastised. "I said to wait for—" But she saw the state of the building. "What on earth—" She lifted her eyes, catching Mary Margaret's. "You're okay!" She ran inside, carefully, and she gave Mary Margaret a hug. Pulling back, she said, "Everything got quiet, so we were afraid that Cora…" Her voice trailed off, and it wasn't hard to imagine what she'd thought. It was exactly what Mary Margaret had thought before she got here herself.

"What happened here?" came Leroy's voice, and suddenly there were more people approaching, taking stock of the destruction with apprehension.

"It's over," said Mary Margaret, loud enough for the newcomers to hear.

"Cora's dead?" asked Leroy bluntly.

Half the town was suddenly within view, and for the first time since before the curse, Mary Margaret felt like Snow White. Princess. Queen. Leader. And with the air of a fresh start, she smiled. "No," she said. "Better."

"Regina gave her back her heart, and she stopped attacking." said David.

"She's… good now," said Mary Margaret, the words a little awkward. "Or, at least, she isn't evil anymore."

"Wait a minute," said Leroy, "you're trying to tell me that this whole time, we could have just given her back an organ and all of a sudden she's good?"

"Love… is a powerful thing," said Mary Margaret, voice wistful with the heaviness, the truth of it.

He shook his head, taking in the mess of the place. "Gold is gonna have a cow when he sees what happened to his shop," muttered Leroy.

David exchanged a look with the others, one that lingered on Hook, before he turned back to Leroy to say, "Gold… is dead."

That got a chorus of exclamations from the crowd.

Mother Superior pushed gently through a few people. "He's what?"

"He, well," said David, looking from Hook to Emma back to the people. Their people. "He was killed."

"Killed," repeated Mother Superior, looking among their faces. "Who's the new Dark One?" she asked, voice low, fearful.

"There is no new Dark One," said Emma suddenly, looking from Hook, who had gone tense. "Gold…" Her voice caught a little, but she said, "He tried to kill me in New York." A ripple of concerned surprise, and Emma looked uncomfortable with it. "Hook… stopped him," said Emma, gently stepping around the words. "Gold is gone and so is his power."

"Of course," breathed Mother Superior. "The Darkness… it would have no tether out there. It wouldn't be able to survive."

"Wait," said Leroy. "Gold is gone? He's really gone?"

"He is," confirmed David, smiling at Mary Margaret, a confidence and a sureness that she loved about him.

"Cora's tamed and Gold's dead?" Leroy shook his head, smile spreading. "There's a happy ending I never thought I'd see."

"I'm going to lose all my business," added Archie with a little grin.

Mary Margaret smiled.

It certainly seemed like things were changing for the better.

It felt like a new beginning.

For everyone.

"Hey!" came a voice suddenly, and Granny was picking up something from a pile of debris; what looked like an antique trinket. "I've been looking everywhere for this!"

"Yeah…" said David, looking around the wreckage. "I think it's high time we get back what Gold took from everyone."

In more ways than one, mused Mary Margaret at the thought.

And for the next few hours, more and more of the townspeople were rifling through the wreckage, finding and repossessing things that Gold had taken from them. Including Mary Margaret and David, finding plenty of their own belongings. It was dark by the time most had left, the shop mostly just piles of broken wood and magical items and potions that Blue said she would be going through over the next few days.

The feeling of peace, of calm that hasn't been present yet in Storybrooke was suddenly beginning to settle.

And Mary Margaret found herself standing among that wreckage, wondering how, sometimes, things had to shatter to be put back together into something more wonderful than it was before.

At the thought, the truest example of the words, her eyes were once again on Emma and Hook.

Who were still and had spent the entire day inches from each other.

Emma was smiling, she was safe, and she was… happy.

Mary Margaret smiled.

-.-.-.-.-.

"Emma?"

Emma was startled a little from what felt like a daze, and lifted her head at Mary Margaret's voice.

Her mother was standing beside them, and Emma smiled a little. "This was quite the garage sale," she said dryly, though she hadn't been paying much attention to it.

Her mind was…

Elsewhere.

"Quite," agreed Mary Margaret with a little laugh. "You think it's time for Henry to get to bed?"

Emma looked over her shoulder, suddenly realizing how dark it was. And how exhausted she felt.

The entire day—the past two days—had been a blur of emotion, and the reason was standing right beside her, so close his coat was brushing her arm.

But Emma's eyes found Henry, who was playing with one of the swords he found. Hook's eyes were on him, like he was both fond and prepared to stop Henry from hurting himself.

"Oh—" said Emma. "Right."

But the idea of taking Henry home reminded her of what going home meant.

So much has happened… so much has changed since New York, since what happened, since…

…him.

And it suddenly occurred to her that things were safe now. She had a job, she had a son…

How was it that all of a sudden, after forty-eight hours, she can't imagine being more than a few inches away from him?

The danger might have gone, but she felt familiar fear slowly creep back into her.

The fear was almost as overwhelming as it was when she'd been arrested; the first time she'd been away from Neal, the only person she'd felt safe with.

Ever.

Trying to breathe through the rising fear, Emma met her mother's waiting gaze.

"Yeah," said Emma, biting her lip, anxiety shifting in her chest suddenly. "Can you… can you tell Henry? I'll… be a second," she mumbled, biting her lip harder, and Mary Margaret's eyes shifted knowingly toward Hook and back to Emma, and she nodded.

Subtly taking Hook's wrist, tearing the pirate's attention from Henry, surprising herself with how comfortable and right it still felt to touch him so easily, Emma pulled him gently with her.

He didn't protest one bit, allowing her to pull him out of the space until they were outside around back.

And Emma took a breath, facing him.

Every single feeling that assaulted her when they'd kissed suddenly rushed back now that they were alone, and she almost felt too overwhelmed to speak.

But before she could even find the words to say, the desperation bubbling up in her chest, the don't leave she felt the urge to repeat, the words she'd wished she'd said to Neal so many times, like it could have made a difference, Hook smiled, his brow lifting gently, knowingly.

"Love," he said softly. "Go home with your boy and your parents." An even softer smile, "Gods know you need some rest."

Emma swallowed, that anxiety creeping even further up her spine. She opened her mouth to say something, but he smiled again, something sure, and he said, "I told you, Emma. I'm not going bloody anywhere." And stepped closer to her, touching her face, and Emma felt the anxiety quell. "How could I?" he whispered.

But flashes of watches of Tallahassee of we're almost home of sorry, sweetheart, your boy took off were hitting her, and hitting her hard, and she swallowed again.

"Emma," he said softly, firmly, making her look at him. "I promise you," he whispered. "I am not going anywhere."

The devotion in his voice, in his eyes, in him was so strong she could feel it.

So she took a breath, and she tried something new.

Trust.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she said instead, a little tilt to her lips.

And he smiled too, seeing the trust in her eyes, and he grinned. "Something with you, I hope."

She smiled. His thumb brushed over her skin, in a way that made her eyes shut to the feeling. She opened them, his eyes already on hers, the moonlight making the blue in his even deeper.

"Goodnight, Emma," whispered Hook.

"Goodnight, Killian," she whispered back, watching his eyes light up with that surprise at the sound of his name, and she felt the same warmth at saying it. She liked saying it, almost as much as she liked seeing his reaction to it.

And before she could stop herself, she hugged him, wrapping her arms around him, shutting her eyes.

He held her right back, hand brushing over her hair, and it felt just as safe as it did in the apartment, in New York. She should be afraid of the overwhelming emotion, she should be afraid of how quickly she developed a need for him, but every fear evaporated in his embrace. She smiled against his chest, feeling lighter than she's ever felt before. And she felt him kiss her hair, making her heart jump and her eyes burn a little because no one has ever wanted her like this before.

He could walk away.

He had every opportunity to walk away.

But instead, he risked his life for her, and stayed anyway.

After a moment, they both pulled back, standing frozen, neither wanting to walk away.

"I will see you tomorrow," he whispered, like a promise.

Emma smiled. "Good."

He let go of her then, like it took every effort to do so.

And then, he headed for the docks, and Emma watched him go, smiling when he gave her a last look over his shoulder.

Emma pulled herself around the side of the building, letting herself fall against the still-standing wall, shutting her eyes, alone for the first time in days. Her mind took her back to the daze she'd been in ever since it happened.

She kissed him.

She kissed him.

And it felt so…

…right.

Never in her life has a kiss felt like that.

These past few days, Hook had been there when she needed someone.

And now, safe and sound, that need has only grown stronger.

She'd fought that feeling at every chance over the past decade, and yet…

She couldn't fight it this time.

She didn't want to fight it this time.

The sheer feeling that had washed through her in that moment, that kiss, it was like nothing she's ever felt before.

Yet at the same time, it was terrifying, because the idea of him leaving, of being alone again…

She knew it already.

She wouldn't be able to handle it.

Emma took a shuddering breath, trying to quell the fear in her chest.

He'd nearly died protecting her today.

No one has ever saved her before, but he did.

Twice.

The last person, the only other person, who had cared for her was Neal, and he loved her until it was no longer convenient.

Yet… Hook has stayed long past convenience already.

Emma felt herself smile.

Trust.

Trust.

She walked back inside, and saw Henry with her parents. Henry caught her eye.

Henry approached her with a smile, rubbing his eyes a little with the exhaustion Emma felt herself. He looked over her shoulder, and around her, brows furrowing. "Where's Captain Hook?"

"He went back to his ship," said Emma, her chest jumping a little with the flit of fear. "It's bedtime for all of us, kid."

Henry's brows scrunched more. "But—But he's not leaving, is he?" And Emma felt herself smile a little, at how much Henry has grown to care for Hook as well. "No," she said softly. "He's not."

Because he promised, and because she trusted that promise.

Henry let out a breath. "Good," he said, and Emma felt her smile grow, hearing him echo her own words to the man in question.

But, because she hasn't really gotten the chance yet, she bent down, fixing his hair a little. "How are you doing?" she asked honestly. "After everything that happened… are you okay?"

Henry rubbed his eyes again, but he smiled. "You're okay," he said, "so I'm okay."

Emma smiled, pulling him to her chest, hugging him tight. "You're a tough kid, do you know that?" she said softly. "Most kids don't have to deal with crazy stuff like this. You're pretty amazing."

She felt him smile. "I must get it from you."

If Emma could possibly feel more emotions, she would burst.

David drove the four of them home in a cruiser, Henry falling asleep on Emma's shoulder, and Emma almost doing the same.

But soon, she was lying down on her own bed in the loft, Henry tucked into his own bed, sleeping soundly, the lights out on a long day.

And she couldn't help thinking how empty her bed felt. It was something she'd never noticed before.

Something was missing, and she knew what it was.

Who it was.

It felt frigid without his touch, without him near, but remembering his promise, the one in his eyes, his voice, his kiss…

The cold faded, replaced with the trust that had bloomed in her chest, warming everything it touched. She closed her eyes, smiling at it.

God, she could not wait until tomorrow.

-.-.-.-.-.

Hook entered his cabin, the door falling shut behind him.

He leaned against it, his fingers ghosting his lips.

She kissed him.

She kissed him.

A smile touched his face.

Never in any of his years has a kiss felt like that.

Not Milah, not any of the nameless women throughout the years.

Emma's kiss…

It felt like her.

Sweet and fragile and passionate…

And more than that—

She'd called him by his name.

His eyes shut, emotions overwhelming him.

He hasn't heard that name in hundreds of years.

It took him completely, utterly by surprise to hear it through Emma's voice, only later remembering that he had introduced himself back in the Enchanted Forest, and she remembered.

She called him by his name.

He had no idea how much he'd missed being known as himself, rather than Hook.

Emma made him feel like him again.

And bloody hell, she cared for him.

It was no longer an assumption, it was no longer his own perception, she'd admitted it.

And gods, were her feelings reciprocated.

Ever since that apartment, since New York, he couldn't stand to be away from her. He could hardly keep from touching her, but for such a different reason than his encounters with women in the past.

There was this overwhelming need in his chest to feel her, to have her near, to protect her.

Bloody hell, he nearly died for her, and he'd make the decision over and over again because she was bloody worth it.

Gods.

He shut his eyes, taking a shuddering breath.

He'd been alone for centuries.

In love with a ghost for all that time.

But to feel something, something real, for someone alive…

He'd forgotten what it felt like.

And never once had he wanted to find someone else.

Not like that.

But… Emma…

Opening his eyes, he let out a breath, remembering something.

Someone.

Milah.

For centuries, she was on his mind nearly every minute of every day.

Hell, she was his sole and only purpose three days ago.

However inadvertently…

Milah had finally been avenged.

But he knew now, however, that vengeance was worth nothing. Northing for him… and nothing for Milah.

She was still dead, and he would still have been alone.

Yet now…

He isn't alone anymore.

Not only does he have Emma, the very thought sending warmth through his whole body, but Henry. The embrace the lad had given him—

It had felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

Both Henry and Emma's defending him, wanting him, had touched him in ways nothing ever has.

And above that, her parents had offered him a second chance.

And that… that was something he would have thought someone like him had run out of a long, long time ago.

"Are you going to stay?"

Emma's question had been so desperate, so identical to her voice in that apartment, when she'd been broken in his arms.

She wanted him.

And bloody hell, no one's wanted him in centuries.

He suddenly couldn't imagine being alone again.

He knew with a terrifying certainty that he couldn't bloody handle it.

Every desperation that had been in Emma's voice, in her eyes when she'd said goodnight…

It was the same fear in his own chest.

A vulnerability she'd released within him that he'd forgotten was even still there.

He wanted Emma, and he'd want her forever.

There was just one thing he wanted to do first.

Slowly, Hook lifted himself from the door, walking to his desk, pulling out something that had always been close at hand, so worn and so loved.

He sighed, looking at the painting of Milah.

Wherever she was now, he truly hoped she was happy.

But it was time for him to be happy.

He smiled, whispering, "Rest, Milah."

And he folded the portrait back up, putting it into the smallest box of things that Hook had left of Liam.

And with a sigh, he let her go, closing the drawer.

Hook detached his namesake, feeling the exhaustion of the past two days, sinking down to his bed.

It felt like something was missing, and he knew exactly what it was.

Who it was.

He laid back, shut his eyes and smiled, hope filling him for the first time in centuries.

Gods, he could not wait until tomorrow.

-.-.-.-.-.

a/n: I am going by what canon suggested for Cora, where she immediately lost her bloodthirstiness the second she got her heart back. We won't see a ton of Cora, or too much Regina, moving forward, but I do hope that I was at least close to how Cora might act if she was given back the ability to love and feel the extent of her emotions.

The next chapter has a ton of captain swan and captain cobra fluff planned, and I hope to have it written and up soon!

Thanks for reading :)

tag list: @teamhook @jrob64 @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @fleurdepetite @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper @confessionsofthemwordrd 

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: “Begin Again” by: @cosette141

Lately, I’ve fallen a couple of chapters behind, but this ongoing MC which diverges so naturally from s2′s “Manhattan” episode is pretty much always in the back of my mind until I’m able to return to read more of it. I simply love how @cosette141​ has changed up canon (but in a lot of ways actually made it better) in a season that started so brilliantly and then got a bit messy. She’s tightened it, added plenty of hurt/comfort, angst, and way more CS loveliness, Captain Cobra feels, and and a much more helpful/perceptive Snow and Charming into the mix. It already has a pretty graphic, but I wanted to attempt a cover art for it, just as a small ‘thank you’ for such an amazing read and to say again how much I adore it. (And if you’re someone who veers away from unfinished WIPs, I wouldn’t worry about this one, she updates often, and the excitement of a new chapter is part of the fun!)

“Begin Again” by: @cosette141​ 

[cupcakesandtv]

It’s Brutal Out Here Part 1

Here on ao3 Takes place after season 1, canon divergent from s2 I guess I should say there will be a fair amount of gore for obvious reasons

Midterms are this week at Sherman Oaks High. Thankfully, I, John McEnroe, no longer take midterms. I guess unless I decided to go back to school, or if I decided to run for public office. Then midterms might mean something to me. Anyway, they don’t mean anything to me but for Devi Vishwakumar they were happening this week. And that didn’t bother Devi. She studied. No big. Normal. But for Paxton Hall-Yoshida, well, midterms were scary. 

Like a horror movie. Ha! That’s a bit of a narrator foreshadowing joke. 

“Maybe I should skip chemistry? It’s math and science rolled into one and it’s not even the fun parts of science where you get to dissect things. Who thought we needed to know the chemical makeup of air? I’m just breathing it! I don’t need to get to know it!” Paxton closed his locker and looked at Trent. 

“Why don’t you just take your C and move on?” Trent asked.

“Because, last year when I was happy to coast on Cs, I accidentally failed history and now everyone from my parents to theater nerds think they can dunk on me.” The warning bell rang and Paxton sighed heavily. 

Thank god he’d failed the second semester after swim season was already done or he’d have been extra fucked. They didn’t let you swim if you failed classes. “That’s weird.” Trent tilted his head as he stared down the hall, Paxton followed his gaze.

The crowd was parting. Not in the normal way of everyone rushing to class, but parting biblically. Students started screaming. Then teachers started to peek their heads out of their classroom doors. One slammed the door shut again, locking it. Paxton heard it lock and because they were students at an American high school, Paxton knew it was somebody with a gun. 

Trent was still watching, unsure and voiced Paxton’s assumption. “Nah, there aren’t any shots. None. People are just screaming.” “You think maybe we should get to high ground?” Paxton asked, already on the bottom step of the stairs. “I’m just trying to figure out what it is.” Trent was still looking. 

“Dude, let’s observe from-” Paxton started but was cut off by Trent finally figuring it out. “FUCK! That’s a motherfucking zombie!” 

“This isn’t the time to fuck around, Trent,” Paxton reached over and grabbed Trent’s backpack and tugged to get him up the stairs. But just as he got the two of them up to the landing, a guy he knew from English lit last semester hobbled by, dragging a foot twisted in the wrong direction. His skin was pale and clammy, except around his mouth where it was covered in what Paxton hoped was ketchup but something in his gut told him he was being too optimistic. 

“Da fuck?” Paxton muttered, horrified. But at his utterance, the guy, Jason? Jared? He couldn’t remember his name. Didn’t matter now. The zombie turned slowly and locked his glassy eyes with Paxton. Paxton gulped and tugged on Trent’s backpack again. “We gotta go!” 

They ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time and looking over their shoulders to see the zombie in a worn out Dunder Mifflin t-shirt hobbling after them. 

“Thank god they’re not the fast kind,” Trent said, turning when they reached the landing and kicking the slow zombie in the chest. The zombie fell back, confused, and landed flat on his back on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, right in front of that fat kid, Eric. 

Eric screamed and bolted, stepping on the zombie’s chest as he ran away. “What just happened?” Paxton asked, his heart beating fast and feeling that pulse of adrenaline like he did on race day. 

“I kicked a zombie. Yesterday, that zombie was Jason North. Today he’s the walking dead.” Trent leaned over the railing of the stairs, checking out the hallway. “We gotta get to the girls.” 

“What girls?” Paxton asked, his brow furrowed. 

“It’s a tragedy when I’m the brains of the operation, keep up, dude.” And off Trent went, up the stairs and down the hall. 

Trent’s not wrong. I don’t have a lot of faith in these kids surviving long if they don’t get to the girls I hope they’re heading to. They need some serious smarts and some kind of a plan. 

---

Devi was distracted. She and Ben broke up two weeks ago and it was fine. She wanted that. She’d put it off too long, avoiding the confrontation. But this morning Ben sent her a weird text about going with his parents to Vegas and how he just wanted her to know so she wouldn’t worry. Why would she worry? What was there to worry about? And was he trying to get her back? Was this some kind of mind game? She was over mind games. Over dating Ben. 

The bell rang and Eleanor tapped on Devi’s desk. “Where’s Fabiola?”

Devi shrugged and Mrs. Hernandez stood up from her desk, pulling her curly hair into a ponytail as she went. “Alright, so we can just take the test or I can give you some time to study your notes. Maybe ten more minutes so you can try and keep those formulas in your brains?” Several students shouted, “Ten more minutes!” Devi and Eleanor shrugged and went with it. “Okay so I’ll pass the test out in ten.” She looked at Devi. “Can you set a timer, Devi, I’m gonna do the attendance while you try to press a few more facts into those spongy brains of yours.” 

Before Mrs. Hernandez could sit down, Trent Harrison and Paxton Hall-Yoshida burst in the back door, Trent first, Paxton second, with Trent running to the other door in the classroom and locking it, while Paxton secured the door they came through. 

“I think you guys are in the wrong class.” Mrs. Hernandez was annoyed. 

“Right,” Trent managed to get out in between taking deep breaths. “We should be in chemistry but uhhhh, we gotta keep these doors locked.” Mrs. Hernandez tilted her head, her face suddenly stony. “Is there a shooter?” She grabbed her cell phone without looking away from Trent. 

“That’s what I thought too, but no, it’s worse,” Paxton said, leaning against the door. He was nervous, Devi could tell, or maybe she couldn’t. He hadn’t talked to her in months, not since she started dating Ben. But no, he was definitely nervous, she could see him bite the inside of his lip. God, he had nice lips. She used to stare at them a lot. Back when she was spending all her time pretending she might have a chance with him.

McEnroe: Devi, you’ve taken a detour- “Zombies,” Trent said. The roar of laughter from the class snapped Devi back to reality and away from thinking about Paxton’s face. 

Mrs. Hernandez went from concerned to perturbed in record time. She sighed. “Trent-” 

“No, he’s for real, Mrs. Hernandez. I didn’t believe it but we were chased up the stairs by some kid named Jared who I think used to play soccer? But he was pale and his eyes looked weird and he tried to take a bite out of us.” Paxton took a step away from the door and Devi stood up, heading to the door to look out the window but he stopped her, physically, like with his hands on her hips. A jolt of electricity shot through her and she tried not to show how it affected her. “Don’t even look, Vishwakumar, it’s bad out there. It’s not safe.” 

“Right, so you and Trent had edibles for breakfast instead of Frosted Flakes and now there’s a whole thing happening?” Devi asked, skeptically. But she didn’t move from where he stopped her and he hadn’t moved his hands off her waist. She tried not to think about it but looking at his eyes full of concern was maybe worse than thinking about where his hands were. 

“We’re not high. Well. I’m not. I can’t speak to Trent’s level of-” 

Something slammed against the window of the door causing both of them to flinch. Paxton’s hands shifted, as he put her behind him and turned back to the door. A bloody print was on the glass but that couldn’t be right. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. 

“Da fuck?” Devi whispered and Paxton turned around immediately. 

“That’s what I said!” He turned back and walked closer to the door, slowly. Devi followed him, trying to see out the sliver of window, over his shoulder. 

“I think they might be right, Mrs. Hernandez.” Devi looked back as Mrs. Hernandez headed towards the door Trent was guarding.

“Don’t get too close to the door,” Trent warned, but Mrs. Hernandez was not a lady to be messed with. Last year, Devi saw her break up a fight between three football players and the football players all ended up scared of her. Nobody knew what she said to them but one player claimed she punched him so hard it knocked a tooth out. 

“We need to just hole up somewhere. Mrs. Hernandez, can you call somebody? 911? The principal? Shit’s dangerous out there,” Paxton said, keeping his eyes on the window. Devi was practically resting her chin on his shoulder now trying to catch a glimpse of anything. She could feel the heat and anxiety coming off Paxton in waves but maybe she was just not used to being so close to him. He smelled nice. 

The other students weren’t paying attention, thinking it was just a prank.  A couple of kids were using the excuse to scroll their phones, Eleanor had her eyes on Devi. And the rest of the class was occupied talking to each other about whatever weekend shenanigans they’d gotten into. 

Mrs. Hernandez looked out the window. Not saying anything. Just waiting and watching. But nothing was happening. Devi started to think maybe it was all a prank. Some dumb shit for Paxton and Trent to do to skip midterms. As a planner of hijinks, Devi was impressed with the premise. But that didn’t really make sense because why were they trying to interrupt Devi’s math midterm?

Mrs. Hernandez huffed and unlocked the door. 

Trent and Paxton both shouted for her not to, but she glared at them and opened the door. Trent retreated to the back of the classroom, trying to encourage a couple of the students who were talking to follow him by tugging on their arms as he passed. He then walked back towards the front of the class and pulled Eleanor up out of her chair by her arm. She went because unlike everyone else, she was at least paying attention to what was going on. 

“I don’t think there’s any zombies out here, guys,” Mrs. Hernandez shouted from the hall. “Paxton, Trent, get back to whatever class you’re-” 

But she didn’t finish. She didn’t scream. She just stopped. Paxton and Trent crept slowly towards the door. Devi, impulsive and impatient as ever, pushed past them to look out the front door and screamed. 

Mrs. Hernandez was on the floor. It looked like she’d been pushed down and hit her head. Eleanor tugged Devi back from the door while Trent rushed to shut it before anyone, or thing, could get in. “We should help her!” Devi cried. “Paxton, open the door and check on her! She might be-” 

But just as Devi said it, Eleanor saw movement in the window and no matter how many stage makeup tutorials she watched on youtube, her stomach couldn’t handle the gush of blood that came squirting out of Mrs. Hernandez’s neck as a kid descended on her like she was a Las Vegas buffet. 

“Somebody call 911, please!” Paxton shouted at the other kids in the class who finally seemed to realize something was going on that required their attention. Eleanor walked back to her desk and grabbed her phone while some of the other students moved to the windows of the classroom, trying to get as far from the doors as they could. 

“I’m getting nothing. That awful ringtone sound when you call a disconnected number,” Eleanor said, looking at Devi and realizing the weight of the situation. “Is anybody getting through?”

Kids around her shook their heads. “Can we text? Text Fab and find out where she is? No, if she’s home sick, she won’t be awake. Uh, text...shit everyone we know is here.” Devi dug into her pocket to find her phone. “I’m gonna call my mom.” “Oh, like your mom is gonna believe you?” Paxton snapped, putting a desk against the door. “What am I supposed to do? Use my complete lack of upper body strength to move furniture against the door like you? Who should I call? Or text?”

“I’m texting the group chat,” Trent said before Paxton could reply to Devi. He looked at his phone and hit send with a flourish. His face fell. “It’s not even going through.” 

A loud bang from outside caused Eleanor to look out the window of the backdoor of the classroom. The door Paxton hadn’t shoved furniture in front of yet. “Guys.” Her voice cracked. “It looks bad out there.” 

Before, the only thing in view was Mrs. Hernandez being snacked on. But now the hallway was filled with former classmates covered in blood, shuffling by, and generally looking like extras from a George Romero film. Eleanor would have killed to be a zombie extra a week ago but today she felt pretty confident it was an overrated role. “Holy shit, they’re everywhere,” Devi said, coming to peek out the window. “Did anybody get through to 911?” 

“Trent, the groupchat, did that go through?” Eleanor asked. “Hm? Oh no, it didn’t, Eleanor. You look very nice today, by the way.” Trent looked more calm than he had in the last ten minutes and Eleanor gave him a confused look. 

“Thanks? Can we figure out what to do about the zombies though, Trent?”

“That’s why we came to find you,” Trent said, proudly. “Paxton and I can be the muscle but you know there’s not enough brain cells between us to figure out any kind of rapid response plan.” “Hey!” Paxton interjected, offended.

“So what do you and Devi have? What should we do?” Trent asked. Eleanor looked at Devi and Devi looked back at her unsure. “I wish Fabiola was here,” Eleanor said. 

“My phone is ringing! My mom is calling!” a kid from the huddle in the back of the classroom called out.

“Put her on speaker!” Devi commanded, walking over so she could hear better. 

“Mom?” the kid asked, sounding like they were on the verge of tears. But as soon as the phone clicked over, the line went dead. 

“Shit.” Eleanor looked back to Devi. “If we can’t communicate, I don’t know what we can do! What are we going to do, Devi?”

--

“Everybody find something to use as a weapon,” Trent shouted, realizing the girls were not really up to the immediate task of hatching a plan. That was fine. He could hold off the zombies until one of the girls calmed down enough to figure something out. 

“My mom raised me to be a pacifist,” a kid said from the huddle. He had red hair and paler skin than the zombies they had seen this morning. 

“Well I hope she raised you to PASS A FIST through some monsters because we got real problems, man!” 

“That was terrible,” Paxton said, looking at Trent horrified. “This isn’t a movie, you don’t need quips, just hand the kid a letter opener and let’s move on.” 

“I thought it was pretty good,” Trent said, shrugging before moving to the teacher’s desk. “But yeah, what does Mrs. Hernandez have in her desk for everyone to get stabby stabby with?”

Despite the impending doom, despite the dead teacher just outside the door, Paxton felt like Trent was actually enjoying this. Like he was living out a dream of his. It was fucked up, but at least he was trying to get everybody armed. 

Devi wandered over to where Paxton and Trent were standing at the desk. “Uh, Trent, why don’t we use these golf clubs from Mrs. Hernandez’s closet?” Devi brandished a nine iron from the bag. “Shit, those are great!” Trent went to inspect the clubs. 

“Did you know Mrs. Hernandez was into golf?” Paxton asked Devi. There were zombies out to eat them but touching her before, on her waist, and when she perched her chin on his shoulder it got him feeling giddy. He forgot that being closer to her meant he couldn’t stop thinking about her. That was exactly why he’d stopped being close to her. 

“Nah, her ex husband ran off with his secretary so she took a bunch of his shit and has been selling it on eBay until he agrees to her alimony demands,” Devi explained. Because of course Devi would know the teacher gossip.  “Damn, that’s ruthless,” Paxton said. “Yeah.” Trent nodded. “These clubs are very expensive. Hate to ruin them by bashing a zombie head but you gotta do what you gotta do.” 

“Trent, could you try and pretend this isn’t fun for you?” Devi asked, giving him a dirty look. 

“It’s not fun. We could die at any moment,” he deadpanned. “But it’s a cool way to die. Don’t kill me, okay? If I get turned? Just let me go and munch on some people. I’ll only eat the bad ones, promise.” 

Paxton shook his head. “Nah man, if you turn, we gotta kill you. For safety and shit.” 

“Catch and release?” Trent offered. 

“No!” Devi and Paxton both said. “Ugh, fine, at least do me the honor of taking me out with one of these very nice golf clubs.” “Deal.” Paxton turned back to Devi. “So now that we’re armed, we probably need to figure out a plan. I say we stay put until we can communicate with somebody outside of school.”

Devi started to run her fingers through her hair and Paxton lost his train of thought. Objectively, it was easier to avoid getting caught by a zombie if her hair was up. But why did it feel like she was doing that seductively? He gulped as Devi tied her hair in a bun on top of her head. 

“We definitely need to talk to somebody outside of school. But I think if we can’t use phones, we’re gonna have to get out of here. Where’s your jeep parked?”

“My jeep sits four, five if we aren’t worried about seatbelts.” He gestured to the huddled group of at least 12 kids behind them. “We can’t all leave in the jeep.” “Okay, so we split up? Eleanor and Trent can stay here while you and I go out to get help.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Trent interrupted. “We can’t split up. That’s a sure way to get murdered. And I don’t know if you noticed, but none of us is white enough to survive this zombie movie if we start doing stupid shit like splitting up.” He gestured to Eleanor, Paxton, Devi, and himself. “I would have said Paxton is but I recently found out he’s Japanese, did you know that, Devi?”

“Yeah, man, his last name is a neon flashing sign,” Devi said. Paxton was trying to stay focused on the task at hand but he was thinking about how Devi decided when splitting up they should go together. He needed to snap out of this thinking about Devi’s every move. As high as the stakes were right now, it was going to get somebody, probably himself, killed. 

“We can’t split up, but we still need to figure out how to get help,” Devi was talking and Paxton worried he’d missed some of it thinking about Devi. That was embarrassing. 

“What about the school’s landlines? Isn’t there one in this room? Cell service might not work but surely a landline will?” Eleanor was already walking towards the phone on the desk. She picked it up, Paxton held his breath, but seeing her face fall when she put the receiver to her ear, he knew it wasn’t working either. “So no landline.”

“Why don’t we just shout?” a kid from the huddle offered, walking over to them. “Great idea, kid, genius,” Devi snapped. “Cut him some slack, he’s trying,” Paxton said, defending the kid just because Devi was the one attacking him. That was better than being obsessed with what she smelled like. Great. This was improving. Be mean to Devi. Safer. 

There was a loud crash and they all looked to the window to see another kid throwing a chair through the second story glass. 

“What the hell?” Trent shouted. “Now our room isn’t secure! It’s got a big hole for zombies to come through!” 

“He said we should shout,” the kid explained, gesturing to the broken window. 

Sure enough, out in the parking lot Paxton could see several cop cars and an ambulance. 

“We’re saved!” a random student from the huddle shouted. 

“Yeah, cops have always meant we’re saved, right?” Trent said snidely. Paxton tilted his head in agreement with Trent but maybe this time it would be different. The kid ran to the window and started shouting for help. Cops looked up at them, guns drawn, and Paxton stepped in front of Devi and gestured for other kids to get down and out of the line of fire. 

Two shots came towards them. 

“ACAB, motherfuckers,” Trent muttered.   

“Is everybody okay?” Devi asked, crawling towards the group of kids. But the kid who shouted was on the floor, bleeding from his arm. “Jesus.” 

“Give me your flannel, Paxton, I gotta stop the bleeding. Eleanor, try to shout out and tell them they shot a non zombie student and we need that ambulance.” Paxton pulled his flannel off and gave it to Devi while Eleanor tried to yell at the cops. He’d never seen someone get shot. Sure, once Marcus cut his middle finger off at a party but they sewed it back on and it didn’t bleed like this kid’s arm. His whole shirt was red. Paxton felt sick. 

Devi tied the shirt around the kid’s arm like a bandage and looked up at Paxton and started snapping. 

“Hey! Don’t pass out. You’re useless to me then! You can’t leave me with Trent as the muscle!” 

Paxton shook his head and looked at her. “Nice to know you care.” It was meant to be a rude comeback but it turned out to be sincere. 

“We’re not getting through this on our own and you’re too hot to be turned into one of those ugos,” she said, sounding more confident than she looked. 

“Right. We got this,” he said, handing her a box of tissues from the counter against the window. “We got it. We’re handling it.” 

“We’re handling it and we’re gonna get out of here,” Devi said, quieter to herself like maybe she too needed to hear it to feel brave.

[motherkatereloyshipper]

Merrily We Sail Along - my CSSS2021 gift @theweepingangels I am your Secret Santa in the @cssecretsanta2021 event

I really hope that, despite Tumblr not giving us much of a chance of getting to know each other via the Anon asks, this suits your tastes.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35949103

(Did you write Numb?)

So this is an S2 canon divergence, you mentioned that you like whump which is, tbh, a long way out of my wheelhouse, I tend toward more the frothy comedy, so this is genuinely my first attempt, fingers crossed. S2 and S5 are imho the whumpiest seasons and I am already writing an S5 canon divergence so…

You said you liked to bop to musical theatre, and with the loss of the great Stephen Sondheim I have borrowed from the greats and titled this for Merrily We Roll Along, don’t fret, it doesn’t follow the plot, but there are definitely nods to the song from same, ‘Not a Day goes by’, very CS IMHO.

Not A Day Goes By by Bernadette Peters

So, you said go big or go home, well, I think I went pretty big here, and there are a few nods to Python (and certainly Wilde and the Ealing Comedies that were huge influences on the Python Crew).

Big thanks to @jonesfandomfanatic and UltraLuckycatND for all the editing assistance, best Elves ever, thanks for sticking with me even if I do fight for my extraneous letter U and continue to be way too find of commas.

(They tried to save you, I just fear spot plague)

[thepirateandhisson]

CS Halloweek: close your eyes, take a breath, and you’re home

close your eyes, take a breath, and you’re home - @cshalloweek​ Day 2

Day 2 Prompts (October 26th):

Threats / black

clanking chains | prank | “we have to be quiet” | carved

SUMMARY: All Henry wanted to do was go to the Underworld, find his father, and bring him back to Storybrooke. Except things don't go to plan and now he's got a dead pirate helping him find a way home.

S2 Canon Divergence AU where Hook died in New York after stabbing Rumpelstiltskin.

RATING: T for language, violence.

WORD COUNT: 25,262 words

TAGS: Captain Cobra, Captain Swan, Halloween, CS Halloweek 2021, Underworld AU, Canon Divergence AU, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, no beta we die like killian jones

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hahahah this was originally supposed to be a cute captain cobra fic of like 3000 with a dash of captain swan but here we are

***

For being hell, the underworld, purgatory, or whatever his family wants to call it, the place is cold.

A red tint covers as far as the eye can see. And what he sees is a hopeless version of Storybrooke. Underbrooke, he jokes to himself. Where he grew so used to seeing Moe’s roses in the flowerbeds outside of his shop, instead dried up dirt from knocked over planters are in the doorway of an abandoned shop. The clock in the tower above the library lays dismantled in the middle of main street and there’s smoke coming from just about everywhere. Granny’s sign is broken, hanging six feet from the ground by a few frayed electrical wires. It reminds him of a story he heard once where a sword hung above a throne.

“Ooohhh…” a voice breathes out in glee. He jumps away and turns to face the person who snuck up on him, eyes wide.

A woman with wild blonde hair and glossed over eyes grins at him. Teeth shaped like fangs peer out from under her lip, twinkling at him even in the red haze, and he shivers. The thick wool coat he wears helps minutely to keep out Underbrooke’s cold but did nothing to stop the chill from the woman.

“You just smell delicious,” she says, practically giggling as she speaks. She inches forward, head stretched ahead of her body, and sniffs again even as he tries to move away. “And you’re alive!” This time there is no mistaking that he is in danger the longer he’s around the woman.

Despite her lack of eyesight, her sense of smell is keenly aware of his movements as she follows him as he tries to maneuver around her, her body turning to follow his every action.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had someone alive!” She licks her lips, mouth still open in a wide grin, and he pictures a napkin around her neck and fork and knife in her hands. “And what’s your name, dear?”

He swallows. The woman has him trapped. His back is against the broken fence of the diner – Granny is meticulous about how her dining institution looks and would be offended to know this is the state its in – and her arms are extended on either side. There’s no telling what her capabilities are. She’s already proven a stellar sense of smell, and he can’t afford to attribute that just to heightened senses from her loss of sight. For all he knows, she may be a werewolf.

“Henry,” he answers. His mind is thinking too fast to even care that his voice cracked. It’s been happening more and more over recent weeks and while he gets embarrassed if he’s around friends like Grace or his moms, he has grown used to it.

“Henry,” she repeats, her voice extending every letter of his name like it’s its own word. He almost mistakes her for a snake with the way she sticks her tongue between her teeth and bites. It’s then that he realizes he’s either going to actually die in Underbrooke or he can make a go for it.

He finally manages to get away from the broken fence around the diner, his backup snagging only slightly with a quick ripping sound barely heard over the woman’s cries and makes his way into the street. “Breathe into this for me, at least!” he hears her call behind him. Instead of looking back, he rushes forward.

*

The underworld is an odd place, he decides. The souls here have jobs and duties and go about their days like they lived in Storybrooke, not caring that the clocktower remains in the middle of the street or that everything seems to be smoking and no one actually needs to be doing anything that they’re doing. There’s a line for the singular telephone booth in town and everyone who walks up to it seems to be leaving messages or crying or just adding to the hopelessness of Underbrooke in general.

He takes a hurried glance at the people in line not wanting to stay around longer than he has too. Hopelessness, he quickly learns, is contagious in Underbrooke and hope is his ticket home. The usual places are devoid of anyone he knows, both a blessing and a curse. He’s lost more than a few good people over the years and while a part of him would love to see them again, he thinks it’s better they’re not here.

Well. He hopes one person is here.

His feet bring him to the playground by the ocean. The bench by the ramp to the sand is occupied by a person who lays across it with a leather duster over his face and a pile of black under his seat. He makes his way past the figure, past the swings and the jungle gym, to the sand where he and his dad sword fought.

The memory burns in his mind, both feeling like yesterday and like forever ago. He supposes both could be true, since he lost a year because of the Wicked Witch and his memories are all jumbled still.

He didn’t get a lot of time with his dad. Neal was as much a surprise to him as he had been to the man, one of Emma Swan’s best kept and closely guarded secrets. What little time they spent together consisted of Neal letting him steer the pirate ship they stole, sword fighting across Storybrooke, and…

Henry tilts his head to the side, stopping suddenly in the sand.

Try as he might, Henry can’t think of much else they did together. Was their relationship really that shallow, was time an enemy that stole his father from him before they could really dive deeper, or was the missing year and two sets of memories messing with his recall?

A weight settles in his stomach like when he eats too much food and feels sick instead of content. It isn’t right, he thinks. He just found his dad only to be pulled away without memory of it all and then to find him again right before he died. It isn’t fair.

He continues walking, eyes on the water and seeking the calming rhythm of crashing waves to ease his nerves, coming to the edge of the retaining wall. Except there are no waves. Even on the calmest of days in Storybrooke, the water still lapped at the shoreline or against the docks in the harbor gently. Yet, as he leans over and looks down, the water in Underbrooke is eerily still.

“I wouldn’t tempt fate, lad.”

Henry jumps again at the unknown voice, though this time he’s grateful that the person it came from has kept their distance.

“Who are y–”

As Henry turns to face the stranger, his foot slips on the edging of the wall and he suddenly finds himself falling back into the water.

The stranger is quick, a reaction time that Henry wishes he had when he played a few of his videogames, and with a jerk of the straps of the backpack over his shoulders, he is upright once more. There is another tug on his backpack straps and the stranger pulls him forward, away from the water and over to the swings.

“Wh – what just happened?” he asks. His mind is reeling and he chances a glance back at the water. Calm just moments before, it now rages like a storm and is unleashing hell against the retaining wall he just stood atop.

“That, lad, was you almost being lost to Acheron.”

Henry faces forward towards the man pulling him as far from the water as possible. He only sees the back of his head, covered with thick dark hair, and his arm extended back to Henry’s backpack strap. It’s only as he notices that it’s not a hand holding onto him and his backpack but a hook that he trips.

“A little further. Keep up.”

Henry stumbles as he tries to right his footing, the man not stopping to let him regain his balance. He watches as the stranger leans down and picks up a discarded leather duster from the bench without his pace faltering. The pile of black underneath the bench begins to move as they stride away from it.

The end of the street that they step onto is empty. Henry almost thinks that there’s not a soul in sight but he isn’t well-versed enough in the ways of Underbrooke to see if that’s ironic or not.

Growing up in a town full of fairytale characters, coming from a family full of them, and now being stuck in Underbrooke, Henry can only assume whose hook this belongs to.

“Captain Hook?” he asks hesitantly. He’s sure his gulp is audible as the man swiftly turns around to face him.

Disney’s Peter Pan got it wrong. Captain Hook didn’t walk around in a long red coat with a ridiculous feathered hat or sporting a long curly mustache.

There was leather – a lot of it. And his shirt was left mostly unbuttoned, giving Henry a glimpse at more chest hair than he ever wanted to see on another person in his entire life. Instead of the maniacal mustache from the animated feature, this Hook has a clean cut of facial hair along his jaw and over his lip. His eyes are narrowed at Henry, sizing him up as if he just asked to join his crew, and Henry realizes that his eyes are the same color blue he hoped Underbrooke’s waters would be.

“Aye, I see you’ve heard of me. Yet I have not heard of you.”

He contemplates for a moment. Henry has met his fair share of villains since his mom broke the curse. Some of them had a chance for redemption, others were a lost cause, but one thing they all had in common with the heroes was that their story tended to be different from the ones he grew up with. So while a part of him is cautious around Captain Hook, he supposes he owns the man something for not letting him fall in the water. No telling how he would have gotten out of that one.

“I’m Henry Mills.”

Captain Hook continues to scrutinize him in a way that makes Henry fidget. It’s as if he’s waiting Henry out, trying to see what else he’ll see under the gaze of a fearful pirate captain, eager to know all his secrets. And Henry realizes that’s exactly what the captain’s doing.

“What’s Acheron?” he asks suddenly. Captain Hook raises an eyebrow at him, appraising him for a moment longer before he settles his hand on the buckle of his pants.

“Acheron is the River of Lost Souls,” Captain Hook answers. Henry gapes and turns his head back to the water he almost fell in. Its raging is beginning to calm but what he finally sees is the water for what it is – a dark green color that is highlighted by spots of lighter hues dodging in-between one another, swimming around – some in desperation and some in hopelessness, but all looking for someone to end the loneliness and join them.

One more, the water seems to whisper to each other.

“A touch from Acheron and your soul is stuck forever. There are a multitude of damnations one can face here forever but that has to be the worst.”

He can’t help but ask, “Why?” The water is entrancing but not for the same reason as before. While it previously lured him with the promise of calm, now he wonders about the souls stuck there forever.

“They have no hope of escape or chance to move on. While being damned in this purgatory is hell in its own right, at least some of us have the… freedom to not be locked in one place.” As he speaks, Captain Hook gestures to the pile of black at his feet.

Only at his acknowledgement did it become obvious. The pile of black formed a shape before Henry’s very eyes. He begins to notice the curves and spaces within the pile, one of black iron that looks to weigh more than the man attached to it. A slight shake of Captain Hook’s foot allows a rattling to fill his ears for the first time.

A pile of chains.

Captain Hook puts his foot back on the ground, the shackle around his ankle shifting enough that Henry hears a quiet ring of the chains.

“Some of us are damned to carry the weight of our sins with us everywhere we go.” Henry isn’t able to recognize the tone in the captain’s voice – regret, maybe, or bitterness, he’s not sure. His eyes are still stuck on the pile at his feet and he wonders how he didn’t notice it sooner. “But what I’m curious about is how someone living has been placed in the Underworld.”

He blinks. He suddenly doesn’t remember the last time he blinked. Has he been doing it without notice the entirety of his time in Underbrooke or did the people here not have to do that? Did Underbrooke townies have to eat or drink or sleep? Was there a night in a place like Underbrooke?

“Lad?” Captain Hook asks. He’s snapping his fingers in Henry’s face a few times before he blinks himself back to focus. “Lad, you have to stay with me. You’re alive and you’re not supposed to be here. The longer you’re down here then the more you’ll forget about yourself. You need to leave before you’re stuck here.”

Henry jerks back. “No! No, I can’t leave!” He shakes his head at the captain.

“That was not a request but an order,” Captain Hook growls and comes closer to him. The man didn’t scare Henry before but the low timber of his voice and the fire in his eyes, so much like Hook has his own personal hell inside of himself, shrinks Henry back as he swallows. “You need to leave now.”

The thought of leaving – after everything he went through to just get here – churns Henry’s stomach. He isn’t leaving without his dad and Captain Hook or not, he’s dealt with worse villains he’s sure, his own mom included. He survived a sleeping curse and Peter Pan who was clearly the villain of that story.

Wait.

He thinks to himself that if Pan were the villain, Hook has to be the hero. It’s like Star Wars: there has to be a balance. If there is a hero then there is a villain and since none of his time in Neverland hinted at the Darlings actually existing, Hook was his only other option. Heroes always have a soft spot to help someone in need. If Hook knew what he came down to do, then he’d help him.

Captain Hook hasn’t moved away and his face is still pinched in a fierce scowl.

Henry takes a deep breath. “I’m looking for my dad. I need to save him.”

*

Hook’s chains are clanking with every step he takes. The raging waters of Acheron must have quietened some of the sound because it rings loudly in his ears as they make their way through the cemetery.

He’s glad that, at the very least, he was right about Hook being a hero. Hearing his tale of woe, of finding his father just to lose him and wanting to save him from his unjust fate, tugged at something in Hook. The only thing he hasn’t figured out yet is why, if Hook is actually the hero, he has a long run of clanking chains following his every move in Underbrooke.

The cemetery still holds the red haze the rest of Underbrooke does. He supposes it’s just how the Underworld works – devoid of color, joy, and hope to keep everyone here in a state of stillness.

As they walk, Henry notices some tombstones are pushed over while others are cracked and some are intact. “What do they mean? The different states?”

“Hm?” Hook hums for a moment. He turns back to Henry and sees his attention on the cracked tombstone of someone named Gaston. “Oh, that, aye. You see, a crack down the middle from the top means eternal damnation. There’s no hope of moving on to one place or another. That crack is irreparable and you’re stuck here.”

“Does your tombstone have it?” Henry asks before thinking. His eyes widen and he waits for a scolding from Captain Hook but the man looks amused and raises an eyebrow in his direction.

“Aye,” he says, “Mine does as well.” He motions with his hook for Henry to follow and he does. The jovial appearance Hook wears slowly disappears and despite trying to keep it going for Henry’s sake, he’s smart for 13, almost 14. He knows when adults are lying or keeping up a façade.

A few rows over and past a couple funnels that aired smoke from hell into the underworld, Hook brings Henry over to a tombstone.

“Killian Jones?” he asks. He turns up to Hook and finds the man’s eyebrows pinched. Try as he might, Hook’s pain is plain as day on his face when Henry glances at him.

“Aye, Killian Jones. While most people know me by my more colorful moniker, it was the name I was born with and thus the name I’ve shamed these chains to.”

“Will you always have them?” Henry asks.

“Aye.”

“Why?”

“I’ve not been a good man, Henry,” he admits. Hook stands there in apprehension, waiting for Henry to run away. But Henry’s mom is the Evil Queen. It’s kind of hard to beat that in terms of evil, though Rumple – his grandpa – may have surpassed her. If his family consists of some of the most evil people from the Enchanted Forest and he’s forgiven them, he doesn’t see why he can’t extend that same courtesy to Hook.

“Trust me, you’re not the worst,” he replies instead.

“Lad, I’ve spent three centuries on a mad quest for revenge that didn’t even work. Bloody hell, it was all for nothing. A man does not hold onto his anger and his desire to kill for three hundred years without others becoming collateral damage.”

Henry eyes him warily. He thinks it’s something he gained from Emma, or maybe it’s because he’s the Truest Believer, but he doesn’t think Hook is all that bad anymore. Evil doesn’t recognize it’s evil.

“If you really were still a bad guy, you wouldn’t have saved me. You wouldn’t be helping me or telling me all this right now,” Henry tells him. Hook stares at him for a moment before reverting back to his confident and unbothered posture. “Besides, my mom’s the Evil Queen.”

At that, Hook sputters. “What.”

Henry grins up at him. “Reformed now. She’s one of the good guys.” Or, she’s trying to be one. He knows it’s not easy for his mom either. Decades were spent wrapped in her plot for revenge and once she got it, it left her unsatisfied and angrier. But she’s trying her best to be good for him and he can appreciate that, even if she still slips every once and a while. He heard someone say it’s a journey, not a slope and the image makes sense in his head.

Behind Hook’s tombstone and over to the side a few is a pushed over one. “What does that mean?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Graham Humbert.

Henry staggers back a step before he rushes forward and kneels beside the fallen stone.

Graham was a good man. There was that awkward moment when he told Henry about kissing his mom – which he later found out to be both moms – but other than that, he only holds fond memories of the once huntsman. For a long time, Graham was his only friend and then the first one to believe him about the curse. When everyone else made it seem like he was crazy, and when Emma was still in denial, having Graham’s support meant more than he knew to vocalize. It inspired new hope in him that he could help Emma break the curse.

And then he died because Regina crushed his heart and it was the first major loss he felt in his life. Sometimes he wonders if he mourned Graham harder than he did his own dad and then feels silly. Who mourns someone else more than their own dad?

Yet, faced with Graham’s tombstone in Underbrooke, it doesn’t feel so silly. He had a few good moments with his dad but Graham was his friend. He spent more time with Graham, as limited as it was, than with his dad yet he was down here for only one of them. Grandpa Gold did say that it is with his author’s power that he’ll be able to bring his dad back. He warned that it’d only work on one soul to allow them to cross back over to the land of the living, but Henry is the author. Surely he could figure something out, right?

Hook’s hand lands on his shoulder in what he supposes is a comforting gesture but instead the weight adds to his heavy heart. Graham was a good man and he didn’t deserve to be damned to Underbrooke forever. He couldn’t tell his mom.

“Ease your heart, Henry,” Hook says. “The stone was pushed over intact. It means he’s moved on and is in a better place.”

Tears fill his eyes and Henry sighs. Hook pats his shoulder and the weight that sat inside him only moments ago has disappeared. He missed Graham. He was easygoing whenever he caught Henry sneaking out and they had a few lunches at Granny’s together but he deserved to move on to a better place and he was glad he had. He lifts his gaze from the stone.

“What do the other ones mean?” he asks. Standing up, he continues, “The ones that are standing but don’t have a crack. What does that mean?”

Hook pauses. “It means they have unfinished business. They are here in the underworld, as good as damned like the rest of us, unless they are able to solve their unfinished business.”

“Well, that’s easy then!” Henry says. “I’m my dad’s unfinished business! I can still save him!”

There’s a twitch at the corner of Hook’s mouth and he nods. “Aye, you still can. What was his name again?”

“Neal Cassidy,” Henry says as they resume their walk amongst the tombstones, glancing at the names etched across each one. “But I guess if it’s your birth name on it, it’ll say Baelfire.”

“What?”

Henry stops walking and looks to his right, expecting to see Hook but finds nothing. He looks behind him and sees Hook has paused a few steps back, face set in shock but eyes grim.

“Your father is Baelfire?”

He doesn’t know how to react to the news that Hook knew his dad. The pirate tells him of how he fell in love with his grandmother Milah, how she joined his crew to escape the life she felt trapped in, even if it meant leaving behind her son. Their walk resumes as Hook talks, his eyes far away as he speaks and his only hand clenching and unclenching every so often. Rumple, in a fit of rage and revenge against them both, crushed Milah’s heart and took his hand.

It isn’t any secret that his grandfather is an evil guy, perhaps the worst of them all, but to hear how he just ripped the heart of his once love out of her chest and crushed it without a second thought of remorse, well, he wonders if Belle knows the true story. She has always been nice to him and looks for the best in people as much as he does, but he’d hate the same fate to fall on her.

Hook shares how years later, he taught his dad to sail when he was a boy, how he believed that he would do right by Milah and raise Baelfire like she wanted to go back and do so much. And how Hook let his own thirst for avenging her and the rejection by Baelfire to fuel his actions.

“I let him go, Henry. I knew it was the best course of action if he were to leave my ship, the safest one for him, but it was still myself who offered him up to Pan on a silver platter, and he was stuck in that godforsaken place nearly as long as I was.”

“I hate Pan,” Henry mumbles. The grass in Underbrooke is as stuck in a perpetual state of near dead as everything else and when he kicks at it, dirt flies up in front of him. “He manipulated me into giving him my heart.”

There’s a look in Hook’s eyes again, that one he had by the water when he was trying to figure out something about Henry, and he doesn’t know what the pirate is looking for this time.

“The heart of the truest believer,” Hook whispers, more to himself than to Henry. He only nods. “I’ve heard of why he wanted you. Don’t take this the wrong way but I’m surprised you made it out of there alive.”

For what feels like the first time since he entered Underbrooke, Henry smiles. “My family saved me. They’re all heroes, or at least trying to be ones.”

Time in Underbrooke works differently, similar to Neverland, he assumes. He hasn’t been here for even a day yet Henry feels as if there’s been weeks of separation between him and his family. The chill of this nether realm hits his bones again and he sighs, pulling his coat tighter against his body. How much time passed back home? Are they even aware he’s left?

The tombstones become a bit of a blur for a while and their walk has to have extended into miles by now. At one point, Henry stops walking, catching Hook’s attention. The pirate turns to look at him, eyebrow raised and mouth open to ask a question but Henry curls his hands into fists, digs them into his pockets, beats him to it. “What are we looking for? We’ve been walking around here for hours!”

Hook scrutinizes him but Henry turns away. All he can see is tombstones and no exit in sight. What was he doing in here? He had school today and Grams gave him a project on the efficiency of homing pigeons during war and he spent weeks expanding the topic to go into their abilities of navigation and how they were used to pass secret messages and –

“Lad?” a voice calls to him.

Henry blinks.

Turning his head reveals that Hook moved to stand in front of him, both a hand and a hook on his shoulders but Henry feels neither for a moment. He blinks again.

“Huh?”

“You need to stay with me, lad, alright?” Hook says in a quiet voice. His stare is intense and Henry can’t look away, has no desire to break his focus.

“What’s going on?” he asks but his voice sounds far away, like it came from the tree line and not his own throat.

“Stay focused, Henry. Can you do that? You want to find your father. Neal. Baelfire. Remember that. Hold on to the reason why you’re here. Do not lose hope. Aye?”

Henry is numb but he nods. Hook looks him over again before shedding the leather duster from his shoulders and placing it over Henry’s. The jacket weighs more than he thought it would have and when he digs his hands into the pockets, he feels gold coins in one and a flask in another. It’s still warm from the pirate who gave it to him and Henry takes a moment to revel in it. It feels like it’s been ages since he was this warm.

His mind is still a little fuzzy because he doesn’t think that the pile of iron binds following Killian looks as long as it did before, but instead he focuses on the clanking chains around Killian’s ankle becoming a steady beat as they walk.

“What’s happening to me?” Henry asks. He doesn’t like not knowing things. He was the one who figured out Storybrooke was cursed, he was the one who brought his mom home and figured out who everyone’s Enchanted Forest counterparts were. He’s the author – he should know where this was going!

Underbrooke is not to be underestimated, he realizes, and he’s in way over his head.

His grandfather told him he would be fine, that once he found his father, he would be able to come home. All he had to do was write it so in the storybook, along with his father’s name, and he’d be able to come home. Memory loss and brain fog were never mentioned as a warning from his grandfather. He searches his mind and realizes that he wasn’t warned of Acheron either. How could his grandfather send him in so unprepared?

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Killian explains. “You’re still alive. Your soul belongs in the realm of the living and since you didn’t die, your soul didn’t enter the Underworld the way everyone else’s does. So you’re being pulled between realms. The longer you’re here, the harder the pull to the Underworld will be and soon enough, you won’t have enough life left to allow you to go back, however you plan to do that. Your memories will be gone because they didn’t pass with you and you’ll be left here forever, never knowing what your unfinished business is.”

Henry almost tells him that he’s the author, it’s supposed to be in his power to do that, but Killian stops at two pushed over tombstones.

Milah Stiltskin.

Killian’s hand reaches over to touch the fallen tombstone and there’s such a loving reverence in his touch that it reminds him of when Gramps cradles Grams’ cheek and he turns away.

“Milah’s unfinished business was with her son. She regretted leaving him and wanted to know he was alright.” Killian looks up from Milah’s tombstone and smiles sadly. “I’m glad to know she learned he did well for himself.”

His stomach lurches. This man clearly looked towards his dad as a son or a brother or just someone important and Henry didn’t know how to tell Killian the truth.

Yeah, my dad was fun when I met him. Ten years after I was born because he was too scared of facing his dad that he sent my mom to jail for his crimes and didn’t even know I existed because my mom had to give me up and she waited around for him for two years in Tallahassee but he never showed.

Not really something he wants to tell a guy still mourning his lost love.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to say goodbye to her,” Henry manages. Killian stands and shakes his head.

“No, I did. We made our peace and I only hoped she would find her closure.”

“But you still love her. Why didn’t she stay for you?”

The blue of Killian’s eyes seems sharper and he doesn’t know how to interpret it. He nearly apologizes but the pirate doesn’t let him. “When you love someone, really love them, you want the best for them, whether that includes you or not.”

Henry finds his gaze stuck on the pile of chains by Killian’s feet, forever shackled to his ankle for the sins he committed while he was alive. “You didn’t want her stuck here forever. You wanted to give her her best chance,” he says.

“Aye.”

The tombstone beside Milah’s, the one also pushed over, has the name hidden by dirt. Henry walks around Killian and kneels beside it, curiosity drawing him closer.

Cool to the touch, Henry brushes away the dirt before snuggling back into the heavy duster over his shoulders. It chases some of the new chill away but unlike before, not all of it. He claps his hands together to get the dirt off his palms and finally looks at the name.

Baelfire Stiltskin.

No.

“Wh-what?” Henry asks. Underbrooke shakes beneath his knees and Henry feels his vision spinning around the name on the tombstone. The pushed over tombstone.

“No, no, no. This can’t be right,” he rambles. His head looks up to Killian, praying it’s a mistake or this Baelfire isn’t his dad. He has three John’s in his grade and two Danielle’s. There has to be another Baelfire then. His dad was in his arms when he died, when he jumped in front of Zelena’s magic to save him even if it meant his own demise. His dad used his last breaths to apologize that they didn’t have more time, that he regrets not being there for him, wishing things could have been different. Wouldn’t that mean he was here? Henry comes from a family of heroes – surely his dad would have known they’d come after him and waited, right?

How is he not enough to be his dad’s unfinished business?

Silence envelops him and Killian. They sit at his father’s tombstone for some time and the only sound that meets his ears is his own breathing as his eyes refuse to move from the tombstone.

Apologies, quiet and sincere, come from Killian but Henry doesn’t have the energy to respond.

Camelot had been a quiet place too, allowing him to think about the many ways they could rid his mom of the darkness she so selflessly took on. She had nearly gone insane during that time, always speaking to an unseen figure and restraining herself to the point of pain so she wouldn’t use magic and tempt herself to the darkness. But the darkness liked the pain. It prodded her until she was forced to use her magic to save one of their own and the power that came from that was too much.

True Love’s Kiss didn’t work because of this. So they spent months in meetings with Merlin’s tree and Arthur’s round table to dispel the darkness from his mom’s heart. It was after freeing Merlin from the tree that he first heard whispers of the Underworld.

Souls who have passed but have left behind unfinished business were trapped there and waiting to be freed. Merlin mentioned banishing the darkness to the Underworld since they couldn’t cure his mom of its curse. Ultimately, they were able to reunite the two halves of Excalibur, a feat that seemed impossible before, and the darkness was gone. Yet the Underworld stuck in his head.

After everything his father said to him as he died, Henry thought his father would wait for him in the Underworld. He would be the unfinished business. If anyone were to help him save his father, it would be Grandpa Gold – Rumpelstiltskin.

But Gold said he couldn’t abandon his future son like he did to Bae, and that they couldn’t bring back someone from the dead. Henry argued – he was the author and he should be able to bend the rules and write a new story. It went against what the sorcerer’s apprentice told him to do, but this was a minor situation. After this, he would go back to recording stories as they were. So he planned with Gold to come to the lake in the middle of Storybrooke, a gateway to the Underworld that could only be unlocked by someone who had been there and returned, and he called the ferry for him. Gold wished him luck as Henry met the boat in the lake, the moon reflecting off of the dark surface of the water.

All that hard work and his dad isn’t even here.

*

They wind up back on the bench Henry first saw Killian sprawled across. The two of them sit side by side, Killian’s chains clanking against one another whenever he shifts his foot, and they watch the uneasy waves of Acheron.

“How’d you die?” Henry asks.

“Bloody crocodile,” Killian says. He turns to Henry, a bitter grin on his lips. “Thought I finally defeated the Dark One, you see. Had my hook dripped in dreamshade and stabbed the crocodile right in the heart. When he pushed me away, his arm hit my hook. Sliced his wrist but also sliced my side.” The laugh that comes from his mouth is dark and full of anger. Henry assumes it can only be at Gold besting him. “Ironic, isn’t it? My life in piracy began with dreamshade only to end with it as well.”

“He was trying to protect me,” Henry admits to Killian. “My dad. He died saving me and I came down here to save him but he’s not even here.”

“Best time to get you home then, lad,” Killian says. There’s a sadness to his voice that wasn’t there before and Henry wonders if he sees his father every time he looks at his face. “How do you plan to do it?”

Henry hesitates.

Back in Storybrooke, everyone knew he became the author. They all knew he refused to change their stories, had locked away the pen in a secret place no one thought to look. But he didn’t know what would happen if people in Underbrooke knew who he was. Killian watched his face and sighed.

“There’s an apartment I know of. It’s abandoned and no one has stepped foot in it beside myself in the years I’ve been here.” Henry raises his eyebrows when Killian says this. “It’s private and safe, so you may keep your secrets, whatever they are.”

Where Killian leads him to, funnily enough, is the loft.

He doesn’t remember the last time he stepped into the loft. They only just recently returned from Camelot before he went on his mission to save his dad. In fact, he wonders if his bedroom upstairs is the same…

Henry rushes up the stairs and sees his bed covered in a white sheet. That’s weird, he thinks to himself. He’s only ever seen abandoned homes have their furniture covered in movies. Except, the loft isn’t abandoned. Grams and Gramps just made him pancakes this morning. He only just cleaned his plate and was looking forward to playing one of his videos. The name slips his mind now, something about duty or calling for someone, and he scratches at the side of his head as he tries to remember what console he played it on.

Did he always sleep upstairs in the loft? A part of his mind remembers another bedroom, in a large white house, but that can’t be right. He’s only ever lived in apartments, none of which had any green space for him to play in.

A shaking motion rattles him to his bones and he thinks it an earthquake. As he blinks away the fog that overtook his mind, he realizes that it’s Killian, his wrists on his shoulders, shaking him.

“Stay. Focused.”

Henry swallows and nods but Killian doesn’t remove his wrists.

When the fog comes over his mind, he doesn’t even know it’s happening and that thought alone terrifies him. What if he can’t break out of it? Does he remain in Underbrooke for the rest of his life, no idea how to get himself to cross over? Tears fill his eyes and he wishes he were home with his moms. This trip to the Underworld, this mission to save his father, wasn’t worth it.

“Listen to me, Henry, alright? I’m going to stay here. Whatever you need to do, your secret is safe with me. I will make sure you get home, got it? I promise.” The earnest look in Killian’s eyes reminds him of his moms when he was in Neverland, how they refused to let him lose hope and continued fighting to get to him.

“I’m the Author,” Henry whispers. Killian steps back in shock and stares at him.

Most of the people he encountered from the Enchanted Forest knew they were fairytale characters. Nearly all of them had their cursed memories from being in Storybrooke and, while they still believed they were of their own free will, recognized that someone had the power to pull their strings. He wasn’t sure how to explain this to Killian but the man only nods his head.

“My many centuries let me learn much about our realm.” He nods at Henry. “From what I can tell, you are much better than the last author.”

Henry shakes his head and shrugs his backpack onto the covered bed, sneezing at the dust that flies up. “Tell me about it. Anyone’s better than Isaac Heller at this point.”

The book he pulls from his backpack isn’t the one he’s grown so fond of. Instead it is a blank copy from the mansion on the outskirts of Storybrooke, a vast number of untouched copies available at his fingertips. Despite all the adventures in Storybrooke since the curse broke, he still hasn’t been added to the storybook. He figured for his own adventure, he’d need his own book.

The pen calls to his fingers and he soon clasps the magical item, pulling it from the depths of his bag. It glows as he holds it up and Killian stares from his spot in the room, one eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly ajar.

“Magnificent,” he whispers to himself. Proud, Henry straightens up.

He brings his bag, book, and pen downstairs to the table with Killian following behind him. Being in the loft is a solace similar to the way the leather duster is that still sits atop his shoulders. It’s not the same as actually being in the loft, but there’s an effort made to be comfortable and Henry reaches for it with all his being. Comfort, like warmth, is rare in Underbrooke.

Killian stands beside the table with his hand on his sword, eyes darting to the door and the windows as Henry opens to the first page, pristine and white without a single word. He glances at the pirate’s protective stance, the only man he’s met besides Gramps that’s kept his word, and bites his tongue as he writes.

Disappointed but now full of knowledge, a portal opened in the Underworld to bring Henry Mills home.

The words shine on the page and with a twinkle become solid black ink. Muscles tense in anticipation, Henry waits.

Yet nothing happens.

No whirling vertex appears like the one that stole him away to Neverland. No spinning hat like the one that took his mom and grandma. No door, no Narnia wardrobe, no Harry Potter portkey – heck, he’d even take a DeLorean if it gets him out of here. But there is absolutely nothing.

“Everything alright, lad?” Killian asks, only chancing a glance back at him before returning to inspecting the entryways. Who knew what would happen if the souls down here could sense his power?

“Uh, yeah! Just another minute!”

At the end of his adventure, a portal opened to bring the Author home to Storybrooke.

Only Henry’s breathing fills the silence of the loft and he is met with crushing disappointment as yet again, nothing happens. He falls to his seat, head in his hands, and desperately tries not to cry.

Grandpa Gold told him this was how he was to get home with Neal. That his Author powers would allow him to get home since they couldn’t use the ferry again. Did Grandpa Gold know it wouldn’t work?

No, he couldn’t have. This was a mission to save his son, he wouldn’t jeopardize that after spending years and traveling realms to save him.

But in the back of his mind, hollow words belonging to the prophecy that hung over Gold’s head rings in his ears. The words refuse to come to him and try as he might, nothing he did could bring back the memory of hearing what it was. When was it that he heard it again? Was it in Neverland when –

“Bloody hell.”

Henry looks up at Killian to see the pirate looking over the paper he wrote on. At the top, his writing begins to disappear and Henry cries out. He rushes forward to rewrite the sentences, hoping that maybe if they stay there, something will eventually happen. When he tries, his hand moves of its own accord and Henry gives into his abilities. He closes his eyes and lets his pen write.

Killian sucks in a breath next to him and as Henry finishes writing a short passage, he sees a picture begin to form on the next page. It’s his family, the one he left to go on this pointless mission, and they’re all together in this loft, home in Storybrooke, and trying to find where he went.

A sob catches in his throat and Henry slams the pen into the book before slamming it shut. Killian is hesitant before he wraps his arms around Henry’s shoulders but once he does, the waterworks don’t stop.

He cries. He cries for his family and for leaving them behind without saying goodbye. He cries because he is stuck in this godforsaken hellscape for the rest of eternity. He cries because he loved his father so much and risked everything to save him but his father didn’t love him enough to stay for him and God, is this what Mom felt like?!

He has no way to get home, no family in Underbrooke to stay with, and no idea what he is going to do next.

*

Thankfully, Killian has an idea.

It’s not one that will get him home but it’s one that brings back a spark of hope. As the truest believer, he knows hope is the most important thing he can hold onto right now and it seems Killian knows that too.

The pirate guides him to the line at the telephone booth. Still as long as when he last visited, whenever that had been, and the hopelessness threatens to burn out the flame of hope he’s lit inside. He tugs Killian’s duster tighter around his frame, the jacket doing more to keep out the emotions of Underbrooke and the chill than his wool coat even attempted.

“Excuse us,” Killian says gruffly. He isn’t afraid to flash his hook and, while it doesn’t get more than a disinterested glance, the line does back up a few paces. They cut to the front and once the woman leaves the telephone booth, they squeeze inside.

“What do I do?” Henry asks. Killian hands him the phone and looks over at the numbers, pressing the zero and then turning to him.

“When the operator picks up, tell them who you wish to speak to. It only works one way, so they can’t respond, but this will be the best way to communicate with your family for now.”

*

Be it mother’s intuition or her powers as the Savior but Emma knew the moment that Henry disappeared. He didn’t disappear in the normal sense like kids do when they sneak out in the middle of the night.

No, Emma awoke in the middle of the night with a gasp and her heart clenching painfully tight in her chest like it had when Cora reached in to take it. An emptiness settled over her in a way that brought her back to being the hospital room with her ankle shackled to the bed and arms with no baby.

Three days later and the empty feeling continues to grow in her chest and she forgot what it felt like to breath without it being painful. Every second without her son is another crack and twist of her heart.

Storybrooke has been searched far and wide with both magical and non-magical means. The locator spell Regina cooked up yielded no results, neither did the one Gold did either. Her mind tugs at her whenever she’s with Gold though and she knows that he knows something. He refuses to move his point, no matter Emma’s methods, and it irks her that he could leave her son out alone and without a care for it. His own grandson.

Sleep eludes her and Emma finds herself staring up at the ceiling of the loft and feeling colder than she had since she was 16.

Mom…

Emma sits up in alarm. Her eyes search the upper room of the loft with no results. She swore she heard her son’s voice.

Mom…

Again, Emma looks to find nothing, both upstairs and downstairs. She settles herself under the covers again and believes herself to be going crazy. She’s been hoping to hear his voice so much that she is starting to drive herself insane.

Mom… Henry. I’m…

A tightness closes over her chest and Emma loses her breath. It is her son. He’s trying to communicate from wherever he is, which is certainly not Storybrooke, and Emma closes her eyes so she can focus solely on the voice in her ear. Magic comes to life at her fingertips as she works to strengthen their connection.

Mom, it’s Henry. I’m so sorry about everything. I was trying to find Dad and bring him back but he’s not here. I’m so sorry. I tried to write myself out of here but it didn’t work. I’m with Killian and he’s trying to help me but we don’t know what we’re doing or how to get me out of the Underworld.

Her breath leaves her throat in a loud gasping sob and Emma feels the tears streaming down her face.

“Hen – Henry,” she whimpers into the dark of her bedroom. Her magic tickles and Emma puts all of her power into her message. “Henry, kid, I love you. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of there. I love you. I’m coming.”

She waits in silence and listens but no other message comes through. Kicking the blankets off of her body, she rushes down the steps to her parents room, not giving a care in the world that little Leo just fell asleep.

“Mom, Dad, I heard him. I heard Henry,” Emma says in a rush. She’s shaking her parents awake and they blink up at her blearily. She repeats herself twice before it clicks in and then they shoot out of bed.

“Henry?!” David exclaims.

“Is he alright? Where is he?” Snow chimes in.

Reality crashes down on Emma. As wonderful as it was to hear her son’s voice, she doesn’t know where to go from there and tears well up at the thought. Her boy, her brave boy with more faith in his pinky than most people have in their bodies, stuck in purgatory. Alone. “The Underworld.”

*

Emma sits at the table in the loft, a cup of hot chocolate clasped tightly between her hands, and her stare set straight on the wooden top.

“What exactly was said?” Regina asks for what Emma swears is the millionth time. The response is robotic now. Emma played Henry’s message in her head so many times that she memorized the lilt of terror in his voice, the waver on some of his words, and the panic at the end. Her little boy was scared and alone in the Underworld and she had no idea how he got there or how to get him.

“Wait, did you say Killian?” her mom asks. Emma stutters, trailing off instead of finishing her repetition. When her gaze meets her mother’s, Mary Margaret is gone and Snow White has taken her place. There’s a fierce protectiveness to the way she clenches her jaw and Emma recognizes the glint of a hunter in her mother’s eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what Henry said.”

Regina throws up her hands, “Well that’s just great. Our son has made a friend with a doomed soul that we know nothing about.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Snow interrupts. Emma furrows her eyebrows. Killian must be someone her mom knows from the Enchanted –

It dawns on her then. The man who posed as a blacksmith who escaped Cora’s massacre and pleaded for help. Who she almost left tied to a tree until he told her –

“Killian Jones,” Emma groans.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Snow shares a look with Emma before answering Regina. “Captain Hook.”

*

Being in Underbrooke is like one never-ending day. There’s no night but there’s also no sun. The town, or whatever this place is, is lit up enough under the red haze that it constantly feels like midday. Henry thinks his time here would be going easier if he could separate it into days, kind of like Neverland, but he’s learned that nothing in life is easy.

After visiting the telephone booth, or haunting booth as one person called it, Killian ushered him back to the Underbrooke version of his family’s loft.

“Do you think she got it?”

“Regina? Aye, she’s got magic and if she –”

“I wasn’t talking about Regina,” Henry interrupts. He’s been in Storybrooke for so long that he forgets not everyone knows the details of his complicated and intertwined family history. “Regina adopted me when I was a baby.”

Killian huffs out a laugh. “I’m glad to hear that, lad.” He scratches behind his ear and Henry realizes that Captain Hook, the Captain Hook, is sheepish. “I was a bit frightened to hear that Regina and Baelfire were both your parents. I feared his stint on Neverland turned him dark.”

Henry nods and swallows back the idea that even if Neal wasn’t evil, per say, he still wasn’t as good of a man as the idea of him Killian put on a pedestal.

“If Regina is your… adoptive mother, then do you know who your birth mother is?”

“Yeah!” There’s a pep in Henry’s step as he pulls off the bedsheets over the furniture, turning his head away to avoid the dust. “My birth mom is Emma Swan. She’s the Sav–”

“Swan?” Killian asks. The catch in his voice is interesting, as is the grin that threatens to quirk up at the mere mention of her name. Henry eyes the pirate, not sure what he’s thinking of concerning his mom.

“Yeah. Do you know her?” He’s aware of the time his mom and Grams spent in the Enchanted Forest, and the fights in Storybrooke with Cora…

…and Hook.

How could he forget that Hook still was a villain? What did he think earlier? The rule of balance? But if Peter Pan and Captain Hook were both villains, then who was the hero in Neverland? And Captain Hook hasn’t seemed like a villain since meeting him in Underbrooke. Then again, he did have the pile of chains that followed him around with every step he made.

What did he hear of last of Hook in Storybrooke? Was it when he arrived on his ship with Cora? He struggles to remember even as he searches his mind for an answer and his fists clench the sheet in his hands.

Why was he holding this sheet? Was it his turn to do wash today? Ugh. He hated doing the wash. When he lived with Emma in New York, they always just shoved it into the machine but David likes to separate the whites from the colors and the –

Killian coughs and Henry blinks.

For all the tales he heard of Captain Hook, seeing him flustered and blushing was not one.

He observes Killian scratching at the back of his ear again and fights back a grin. Did Killian have a crush on his mom?

“Aye. We’ve had some… interactions, you can say.” He smirks slightly and gives Henry a teasing wink. “I think I left an impression.” Underneath the teasing, Killian’s eyes hold a fondness that makes Henry wonder what exactly went down between the pirate and his mom.

The bedsheet crumples in his hand as he thinks of his mom. Agitation crawls up his spine like a family of spiders reaching a perch, and he shivers. The urge is there, heavy in his chest, to go back down to the telephone booth, to hog the phone and keep talking until his voice is hoarse and then just breathe in and breathe out so his mom knows he’s alive. He figures if he waits long enough and tries hard enough, she’ll be able to get a message back.

“Do you think she heard me?” he asks. “Do you think my mom heard my message?”

“Do you believe she did?”

He has to. If he doesn’t believe she heard it then he doesn’t have a chance. Grams once said that believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a powerful thing and right now, that’s all he has. Belief and hope and faith in himself and his family to save him.

“I do,” Henry answers resolutely.

Killian grins like Henry made the right choice and he’s proud of him. “Then I do too. Between the Savior and the heart of the Truest Believer? I doubt there’s anything you’ll fail at.”

*

Killian makes him share stories about his family and his life in Storybrooke. Maybe it’s not fair to say makes, but he heavily encourages it. Henry is tired and it hurts to talk but Killian asks for stories and he obliges.

After the first line of questioning from the man, he realizes what he’s doing. Killian is trying to make sure he doesn’t forget and to give him more time before his mom saves him. If he remembers, then there’s still a chance.

When Killian notices the beginnings of a brain fog overtaking his mind, he changes the subject, his line of questioning bringing Henry’s head back to a moment of clarity. Despite how much he talks, he doesn’t thirst for water and his mouth doesn’t dry. It concerns him for a moment but he reassures himself that he’s still alive, albeit in limbo, when his chest still rises steadily with his breathing and Killian’s does no such thing.

The storytelling isn’t one-sided, thankfully. He’s always been open and honest with the people he meets but being in Underbrooke has left him raw and vulnerable and he’s afraid he doesn’t have any more layers to pull back for their impromptu show-and-tell. Killian recognizes this and tells Henry of his time in the royal navy, of his turn to piracy, the different treasures he found. He also tells Henry of his mistakes, the things he regrets. How he wishes it didn’t take him making peace with Milah, breaking her already crushed heart with the truth of his life after her murder, to recognize how far off the path he’d fallen from being the man he once hoped to be.

“How come you have the chains?” Henry inquires after that particular story. Though he hasn’t had the chance to explore all of Underbrooke, he’s seen enough to know that Killian is the only person with a pile of chains following him.

Said chains jostle when Killian readjusts himself on the recliner in the living room of the loft. He rests his unshackled leg across the knee of his shackled one and plays with the rings on his hand. A ruby red jeweled ring hangs from his neck, the shiniest of them all and unlike two of the gawdy pieces that adorn his fingers.

“I made a deal with the devil,” Killian says.

“I thought this wasn’t hell.”

“It’s not,” Killian says. “But it might as well be for some of us. And Hades may not be the devil but he acts like one.”

He hesitates for only a moment before asking his next question. “What was the deal?”

Killian is a master at hiding his emotions – most of the time, at least. He guesses the man was a killer poker player without even needing to stack the deck. But his veneer cracks and Henry practically sees the bitterness that’s taken home in Killian’s expression.

“I was destined for Acheron when I came down here,” he reveals and Henry’s stomach drops. “My list of unfinished business is far longer than most that come down here and there are some things that I will never be able to complete… But I struck a deal with Hades. If I were to be stuck down here, then let it be with anything other than Acheron. A sailor’s love is the sea and a dangerous temptress she is. But I wouldn’t let her swallow me.”

“So you made a deal and he gave you the chains instead?”

“Not exactly. First, I was a chew toy for Cerberus.” Killian uses his hook to lift his shirt and despite the state of limbo, there are scars littering across his ribs and stomach that are fresher than the ones Henry sees curling around to his back. He drops the shirt back down after a moment. “Once Cerberus got bored, Hades figured he’d use me.”

“What did he do?”

“Replaced my hook with a chisel. When I didn’t carve the names of innocents to bring them to the Underworld, he gave me a carving all for myself.”

He isn’t sure if he wants to see it or not. Killian waits for his approval before using his hook once again, this time to roll up the sleeve of his right arm. There’s a jagged scar across his forearm and amongst it is the shape of a disarrayed heart. Redness lines the edges of the scarring and Killian hisses as his shirt sleeve brushes against it. If he looks carefully, Henry could mistake the scar for a tattoo.

His eyes fall to the chains, a tinny sound filling the apartment when they rub against each other from Killian’s movements. “How did you end up with the chains then?”

“Hades didn’t get the kind of reactions he wanted from me. Figured it would hurt me more to see the weight of the sins I can’t wash away.” Killian observes the chains and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

When he first saw Killian at the bench by the water, the chains were a threat of black without a form. They haunted Killian’s being like a shape in the shadows waiting to pounce. Then, they took up the entirety of the space beneath the bench. Now, in the light of the apartment, the large mass looks small settled in its pile by his feet. If his mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him all day, he’d think there were less links on the chain.

“Do you regret it?” Henry asks. His eyes are feeling heavy and he figures that days have gone by in Storybrooke. His body is feeling the exhaustion and although it doesn’t need food or drink, it wants sleep. But will he wake if he sleeps?

“Until very recently, yes.”

That catches his attention. He sits up from where he began slouching on the couch and meets Killian’s gaze straight on.

“I’ve lived three centuries, Henry. That’s more life than any man should live, but it was all I knew. After spending some time down here, I don’t think I’ve felt a lonelier existence in all that time. Acheron would be a terrible fate, yes, but worse so is being alone forever.”

“You don’t have anyone else down here besides Milah?” Though Milah moved on, surely Killian had family. He told Henry about his brother so his brother had to be down here too. “What about Liam?”

Killian’s smile is quick but sad. “I was able to reunite with him, and it was more than I could have ever hoped for. He would have stayed here with me, not allow himself to move on, but he deserved better.”

“You wanted him to have his best chance…”

“Aye.”

It always comes down to best chances. Henry almost finds himself sick of the idea. All anyone did when they were trying to give someone else their best chance is get hurt. Would it be better to not do that? But then he wouldn’t have both of his moms and all the family he gained in Storybrooke and maybe a little pain is worth it in the long run.

He lets out a yawn, his eyes fluttering closed, and tries to sit up again only to relax back into the cushions.

“Rest, lad,” Killian whispers. Henry can barely keep his eyes open but he feels something being draped over his body.

“I don’t want to,” he tries to fight back but his words are more of a mumble than a defiant roar. “I’m scared.”

“No need to worry,” Killian says. Iron links click and clack as the pirate moves about the room. When Henry feels the couch dip beside him, he knows its Killian. There’s a gentle press on his shoulder and Henry submits to it. His head falls onto a pillow and the hand on his shoulder doesn’t move. “Sleep, and I’ll protect you.”

*

“Is there a way to the Underworld?” Emma asks the moment Regina enters the loft.

“Yes,” Regina begins. “But we’re not doing it.”

“I think that should be up to us to decide,” Snow cuts in, David nodding his agreement at her side.

Regina rolls her eyes. Emma can practically hear the sarcasm in the action. “Well that’s all fine and dandy but I meant that we don’t have the means.”

David crosses his arms and Emma imagines this is what her father looked like in the Enchanted Forest. A united front with her mother as they planned to take back their kingdom from Regina. “What do you need?”

“The blood of someone who died and has come back to life.”

Emma perks up. “Yes, we can do it.”

“And how do you imagine we can? Do you have a vial of someone’s revived blood in the cabinet next to the cinnamon, Miss Swan?”

She ignores Regina’s remark and turns to David. Her pleading eyes asking for his understanding and she knows before she even utters her question that he will help. “Dad. You died. Back in the Enchanted Forest when Mom cast the Dark Curse until she shared her heart and brought you back to life.”

Realization dawns on both of her parents and Emma feels the hope in her chest begin to flutter.

“Will it work?” David’s eyes are focused over her shoulder and there’s such a desperation to his voice that makes Emma want to cry. She forgets sometimes, since she was only a baby when it happened, but her parents know what it feels like to lose a child and not be able to save them.

Their hopes, however, come crashing down with Regina’s minute shake of her head.

“I’m afraid not,” she reveals. Her words twist Emma’s heart. Henry is her son too and she wouldn’t be turning down an opportunity to save him, no matter the cost. Emma had been on the receiving end more times than she can count of how far Regina would go for Henry. “You died, yes, but to reach the Underworld, you need to have been there. You weren’t dead long enough for your soul to leave your body and enter Underworld. Your blood won’t work.”

Silence rains down on the group in heavy piles. Shoulders are tense and faces are downtrodden. The only other way for someone to go to the Underworld is if one of them died with unfinished business and she is really not in the mood to have to save two souls.

Her knowledge of the Underworld is limited and if she hadn’t been able to merge the two parts of Excalibur to get rid of the darkness, she would have run herself through with the sword and be damned there herself. Anything to get rid of the darkness and make sure no one else could become the Dark One.

The words, the title that Rumpelstiltskin proudly paraded around for centuries, are a key turning a lock. Her mind floods with the possibilities and her mouth doesn’t work fast enough to voice them all.

“Gold,” she manages.

“What?” Snow asks. Her hand drifts down to Emma’s shoulder, a comforting gesture through the confusion, she supposes, but Emma barely notices.

“Gold is the key. When he was dying, I took on the darkness. There has never been two people who were the Dark Ones alive at the same. He died and came back. We need Gold’s blood.”

*

When he sleeps, he dreams of nothing. The comforting hand on his shoulder is a tether keeping his soul grounded and calm. It doesn’t compare to when one of his mothers sits by his bedside when he’s sick but it’s a close second.

When he wakes, his senses come rushing back. First is the itchiness of the white bedsheet over his frame. The borrowed leather duster he wears still holds most of the warmth but he appreciates the gesture of the sheet. Next, he notices that the pillow his head rests on is situated on top of Killian’s knees and that the man hasn’t moved an inch since he fell asleep.

“Killian?” Henry calls, groggily. He slowly sits up and turns to him.

“What is it, lad?” Killian’s worry is familiar. His voice tilts down an octave and his words are rushed in the way his moms get when they think some new storybook villain has appeared in town and he gets involved.

“I need to find a storybook.”

He explains on the way to the author’s mansion that his writing isn’t taking when he tries in the new book. Although the book he brought is sharing the stories from Storybrooke, the last being his grandparents hovering over research books, his own stories aren’t translating across realms. “If I can get a storybook from Underbrooke, then maybe what I write in it will be able to get to my family. We have the telephone booth, but with this we can sort of get two-way communication.”

Killian stumbles behind him, his foot caught on a chain link, and calls out, “Underbrooke?”

The name slipped out. He honestly didn’t even mean to say it, but he’s been letting the name go around in his head this entire time that he didn’t even think.

Now that Killian questions it, Henry isn’t sure where Underbrooke came from. It sounds like a play on words and Henry repeats name under his breath. His eyebrows are pinched and his eyes drift far away as he tries to remember but nothing comes to him. Did he give this place that name or is it officially called Underbrooke?

“Underbrooke, huh?” he hears someone repeat next to him. The person’s face is a blur but Henry feels a blue-eyed gaze narrowed at him. The voice continues speaking, “Underbrooke – kind of like Storybrooke. That’s where you’re from, isn’t it Henry?”

Henry shakes his head and blinks hard. Killian’s face comes into focus and he’s become used to the expression on it to know his mind drifted off into the brain fog. “Sorry,” he apologizes but Killian waves him off.

The mansion dipped in the red haze brings about an unease that settles between his shoulder blades. A foreboding presence greets them at the door and for a moment, he worries that Isaac Heller has died and his unfinished business is revenge on Henry for taking his job. But the mansion is empty and the cobwebs prove its unuse.

He accesses the secret room with the empty storybooks the same way he did back home. Killian’s amazement and wonder at Henry’s ease makes him feel cool. The idea that anything he did could impress Captain Hook was definitely something he’d tell Violet and Grace when he got home.

Storybooks in Underbrooke are dark with worn leather that flakes off at the slightest hint of the wrong touch. Its pages are as black as the night sky and his pen trembles when he lifts it to write. The glow has returned and Henry feels the warmth in his fingertips. He imagines that warm tickle is what his moms must feel when they use their magic – their light magic.

He warned Killian as they walked up to the mansion when happens when he gives into the magic of the pen and writes but he can still see the apprehension in the man’s posture as Henry’s eyelids flutter shut and his hand whips across the page.

It’s a few minutes before he opens his eyes again but Killian is giving him that look like he’s never seen anything as cool as this and he grins at the man.

“What do we do now?” Killian asks.

Henry shrugs. “We wait.”

*

Gold is nowhere to be found. The location spells they’ve attempted only give dead ends from promising leads.

“It’s the residuals of his magic,” Regina told her. “He doesn’t have it anymore but the magic he cast while he did is still lingering. For God knows how long.”

Still, he was their key to getting Henry back so she resorted to her bail bonds tactics. Computer softly playing an old Fall Out Boy song in the background as she searches, she almost misses the flickering of pages. It’s as ‘Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued’ fades into ‘The Kids Aren’t Alright’ that she hears the book.

Her head swivels fast and her eyes search for a boy with brown hair and the brightest smile in the world. Nothing but empty space meets her. She figures her mind must be playing tricks on her, her search for her son driving her to insanity already, but her magic tugs at her fingertips. It calls to her to go to the book, pulling at her gut. And Emma Swan always listens to her gut.

When she makes her way over to the countertop, Henry’s storybook is open but the tale the page tells isn’t one she’s heard before. The picture on the opposite side is still forming and at the shape of his head, Emma comes to tears. She knows. She already knows that her brilliant boy is finding a way to talk to her, to let her know what is happening to him.

The words appearing on the page tell her the story of how Henry contacted her from the telephone booth. Her blurry eyes lose track of her sentence but her fingers gently run down the side of his face drawn on the opposite page. Five days without her son feels like a lifetime. She gives herself a few more minutes admiring his drawing before sucking in a breath and steeling herself to return to her search for Gold. He would not slip through her fingers.

*

The storybooks quickly become a way to communicate and it exhausts the lad. Time passes differently for those stuck in the Underworld and what may have been just a few hours wherever he’s from has been stretched out in the timeless expanse of this hellscape.

In what’s quickly become a ritual, Killian covers Henry with a bedsheet and lets the boy get some uninterrupted rest after using so much magic with the pen.

Henry isn’t the first child he’s seen in the Underworld. He’s been unfortunate enough to see those poor souls, lost so young and not understanding where they are. If he had a heart, he supposes it’d have clenched up at the sight. Henry, however, is the first child in the Underworld who’s alive.

Or the first anyone who’s alive.

There had been rumors in the past of a couple separated by death until one made a deal with Hades to restore life to his lover. There are variations of how the tale ends, some romantically and others tragically, but the truth is buried as far deep as hope in this hopeless place.

Except for Henry.

With every breath Henry takes, he instills more hope in Killian than he’s had in centuries. The lad has loved ones – bloody powerful loved ones at that – fighting to get him home and he realizes that perhaps there is still a chance at salvation. Not for him, he thinks glumly as he looks at his sins physically manifested around his ankle, but for others.

He hates the chain.

He’s not sure if it is Hades doing or his guiltiness overwhelming his mind but he swears that every link on the chain has a name inscribed on it to remind him of a life he stole or an act he committed to remind him of how vile he was. There’s Jameson who he sliced through with his sword when he saw him hovering over the captain’s treasure. And there’s Franklin who he tied to the mast upside down before tossing him overboard for trying to take a woman while she was passed out (that one he feels was justified and isn’t miffed at having it around his ankle). There’s also Mikey who –

Killian’s eyebrows scrunch together and his eyes narrow as he inspects his chain. The link he dedicated to Mikey, the guy who he killed for stealing his rum, isn’t where it usually sits. He’s spent enough time in the Underworld to know the exact listing of every piece of his chain and who he dedicated it to that he’d know when one was missing.

Shaking his head, Killian wants to laugh at himself. He must be going crazy if he thought a link went missing. The weight around his ankle never changed and he hadn’t seen the man in over a century and a half. The ship for finding closure with that unfinished business has sailed.

He may not be able to wash his hands of his blood or free his ears of the clanking every time his chain moves, but he will do what he can to save Henry.

Bags are starting to form under the lad’s eyes and Killian wishes he could take over those writing responsibilities so he didn’t have to wear himself out all the time. But that’s not how magic works, especially powerful magic like that belonging to the Author. He learned his lesson early in his quest for revenge when he met the Apprentice.

When he checks outside the loft window, Killian groans quietly. The line for the telephone is dwindling but he balks at the idea of waking Henry from his peaceful slumber. When he wakes later, Killian will just cut the line again and threaten with his hook if anyone were to cause a problem.

Still…

His eyes turn to Henry’s sleeping form.

The Author’s pen in Killian’s hand acts like any other writing device. There’s no magical property to be felt or price to pay for what he creates. He simply writes Henry a note in case he wakes up, rips the page out with his hook, and leaves.

It feels smaller this time, he decides. Last time he was able to leave his chain out on the sidewalk, the hurry to get in contact with the lad’s family too important to care about whatever punishment may befall him if the wrong person tripped on it. But now he wants no distractions so he hauls the chain into the telephone booth with him and closes his eyes before picking up the receiver.

Killian is no stranger to speaking to himself. He lives – lived – on a magical ship at sea that really didn’t need a crew so when he required time for himself, he’d sail out to the North Sea by himself and anchor for a few weeks. Speaking to himself kept him sane on the water. Speaking in the telephone booth with no one to respond to makes him insane.

Once connected to who he wants to speak to, he licks his lips and opens his mouth.

*

Sssw…

Emma flicks her wrist out beside her ear. Her eyes are stuck on the page of an old tome, probably the fourth she’s inspected in the last hour alone, and the buzzing in her ear from whatever fly got into the loft is really pissing her off.

Sssw… Swan…

Her head jerks up. Hook?!

His voice rings in her ears the same way Henry’s did and she sits up straight, her back wrought with tension. All that followed Hook was trouble so if he is the one contacting her then something must have happened. She waits for his voice again and while doing so, she drags the storybook over to her and begins flicking through the pages, looking for some sort of sign that Henry is okay.

Swan… Bloody hell, I hope you can hear me through this blasted contraption. Love, your boy is okay for the most part. But I need to be honest with you. He can’t be down here much longer. I’m doing what I can to help him remember but the Underworld has a powerful pull and his lapses in memory are becoming more frequent. If he can’t remember then there’s no way to bring him back. Right now he’s exhausting himself writing in that damned book. I understand it’s helping you both communicate and your boy finds a comfort in it but we need to figure out something else because –

Emma swallows. Her hand writes his message furiously as he speaks and when he stops suddenly, she worries that their connection has been broken. All she understands from Henry’s stories is that there’s a telephone booth that allows the undead to communicate with the living. She pulls at her magic and lets the warmth fill her.

“Hook?” she asks hesitantly.

She’s not sure if he hears her but he resumes talking almost immediately.

Bloody hell, love, how could I forget?! Swan, I do hope you’re listening. If not, I’ll return later and say the same. I have another way for you to communicate with your boy and it’s a great deal better than that book.

*

Emma’s only been on the Jolly Roger once before, when they stole the ship from Hook back in New York. The ship hadn’t been happy then and they experienced rough seas all the way back to Storybrooke.

Yet the gangway beneath her feet pays no mind and Emma can feel the sadness in the enchanted wood of the ship before her. She’s not sure how but the Jolly knows her captain is gone and the idea that it has been in mourning, let alone in the harbor with no one allowed aboard through the magical enchants, for years tugs at her heartstrings. Before Henry came back into her life, she never would have paid mind to the feelings of a ship but magic has changed her.

Her own reaches out to the ship and she feels a gentle nudge in the way a cat bumps its head against its owner’s hand. Curiosity seeps into the wood of the ship and Emma takes a deep breath, looking around the harbor to ensure she’s alone, and whispers the password Hook whispered in the Underworld telephone. “Alice.”

The enchantments part and Emma steps through the gap. Magic wraps around her like curtains billowing in the wind, calming her racing heart. The Jolly knows she means no harm this time and the boards are welcoming and dry despite the heavy rain last night.

It takes her a few wrong turns before she finds the captain’s quarters. The room is neat and organized. The bed against one wall of the room is so nicely made that she bet she could bounce a quarter off of it. His desk has one lone piece of paper on it and while her curiosity begs her to read it, she instead focuses her task on finding what she needs.

“I need to speak quietly,” his voice said in her ear, volume just above a whisper. “There’s a necklace beneath my mattress. The charm on that necklace acts as a key. Use it to open the vault behind a painting of a cottage. In it you will find a small conch shell. You may need to wield that wonderful magic of yours, love, but you should be able to use it to speak to your lad.”

Emma finds the key with relative ease but the vault not so much. Hook has three pictures of cottages on the walls of his ship and the one that could actually hold the vault still has a fake panel over it. She swings the portrait out, slides out the fake panel, and inserts the charm into the lock.

His vault, like much of everything in his cabin, is neat. There are a few pieces of parchment paper, a drawing of a beautiful woman, a modest ring, a dirty rag, and a conch shell.

Magic tickles at her fingertips and Emma expects an electric shock when she touches the coral shell but all she feels is warmth. The shell is tiny in her grasp and it hums quietly pressing vibrations into her palms. Her eyes close as she cradles it and her mind thinks of Henry; how much she misses him and how much she loves him and how much she wants to bring him home.

She hesitates for a moment, not sure what to do, and then holds her palm close to her mouth and speaks.

“…Hook?” she asks no one.

“Swan?”

The conch shell glows in her hand. She stares in wide-eyed shock as his breathless voice repeats, “Swan? Is that you?”

The Jolly sways pleasantly on the harbor and Emma swears that it hears his voice by the soothing motions. A spark comes from her fingertips. Her lips are dry and her jaw drops open as she stares at the shell in shock. She fumbles through her words but manages to say, “Yeah, Hook. It’s me.”

“Bloody hell, love. Miss me?”

She huffs out a laugh, bittersweet to its core. The last time she saw Hook, they’d been in New York. Emma told him of Rumple’s idea to get back to Storybrooke so he can cure himself but Hook turned her down.

“I don’t trust that bloody crocodile. He’ll save his own skin and leave me to perish an even worse fate than this,” he spat. Black lines were visible under the tear in his shirt. She bit her lip worriedly. As much as Hook had been a pain in her ass, he wasn’t all bad. Seeing Neal reminded her of the pain that came with giving Henry up, the pain that came from Neal’s betrayal. If she faced the kind of heartbreak Hook did, she doubts she would have done much different before. But now she has Henry and she chooses to do better.

He was a lost soul, perhaps even a lost boy of Neverland, and his mission had been complete. She saw glimpses, in the Enchanted Forest, of the man he could be. The man he once was. He told her no lies while they were on the beanstalk and truly meant to betray Cora and be at their aid. He saved Aurora’s heart in the midst of their climatic battle and, once he shot Belle – not to kill, she reminds herself. The man had been alive for three hundred years and she was no fool to believe she beat him fairly at the portal or that he was anything but a perfect shot – he gave no trouble aside from an innuendo here and a flirty remark there.

“What can I do?” she asked him quietly. His blue eyes were light, pale, and his head lolled haphazardly to the side so he could meet her gaze. Distrust filled his eyes and his shoulders stiffened at her inquiry. Three hundred years alone just to die slowly amongst enemies, she realized. “Hook, you told me once to trust you and now I’m asking you to do the same for me. I’m not your enemy.”

He coughed and gave her a smile similar to the one he offered in the hospital a few days prior. Grim and bitter and knowing he had no positive outcome ahead. “Hasn’t seemed that way, love.”

“Yeah, well, a pirate hellbent on revenge makes things a little difficult.” His smiled sadly and looked beyond Emma to the open door of the building, his eyes on the New York harbor. Her eyes followed and she weighed her options. Neal and Henry were working together to get Gold good for the ride back on the pirate ship, one they’d take with or without the ship’s captain.

The sounds of grunting turned her attention back to Killian who was attempting to sit up, with great effort. Emma rushed to wrap his arm over her shoulders and her own around his waist. “Easy there, big guy.” She felt rather than saw his mouth open, ready for a comment, and she turned her head to glare. “Don’t. Now where are you going?”

“If I’m to die, I want the water to calm me.”

Emma struggled to bring Killian across the street and down the block to the harbor. It took a good fifteen minutes and for once she was grateful that New Yorkers didn’t question the oddities of other inhabitants. She found a bench that looked over the smooth waves and gently placed Killian down on it. He heaved out a sigh and took a deep breath.

“Smells disgusting,” he remarked.

She shrugged. “Welcome to New York.”

A bit of color returned to his blue eyes but not enough to settle her worry. The black lines began to extend to where his shirt opened, more buttons undone than done. He told her, back on the beanstalk, about this particular plant of Neverland and how it poisoned one’s system until it reached their heart. There was no cure for it, aside from a water on Neverland but once one drinks from it, their soul is chained to the island forever.

He had a haunted look in his eyes when he told her the story and she figured he learned most of it from first-hand experience. Judging by the proceeding dark lines on his chest, he didn’t have much time left. She wondered how badly it pained him to die the same way he saw someone else he cared about go.

“Go to your boy, Swan. Don’t let him worry,” his voice rasped.

“And leave you here to die alone?!”

Alone was cold and frightening. Alone was empty. Alone was hell.

She knew that well enough over her childhood and well into adulthood. It sucked. And while her and Hook weren’t on the best of terms, she couldn’t bear to leave him to die by himself.

“I’ve got the sea with me. That’s all I need,” he murmured. He lazily turned his gaze up to where she stood beside his bench. “Be with your lad. I’m okay.”

There was something in his voice. A resignation and a wistfulness. So she nodded and turned to walk away. But she paused. When they met, he told her his name. Killian Jones. She wondered when the last time it was that someone else actually uttered his given name and pondered the thought that, now with his revenge complete, he’d want to leave this world as himself instead of the moniker he held on for far too long. “Goodbye, Killian.”

He turned to her in surprise, his mouth dropping open. Awe filled his features along with a gratefulness she’d never seen before. “Another time, Emma.”

She left him at the bench, his eyes back on the water, and made to meet her son at the Jolly Roger.

*

Emma would be lying if she said she never thought of Hook after that. When Tamera followed Neal to Storybrooke and kidnapped Henry to Neverland, she wondered if things would have been easier with Hook guiding them. Neal, Rumple, and Regina constantly butted heads as her parents tried to keep the peace and Emma just wanted to find her son. Neal’s brilliant idea of squid ink on Pan worked, but they hadn’t been able to capture the shadow yet to leave. So they lost Henry again and found themselves making trips into the Dark Hallow for days, unable to see Pan’s shadow floating overhead.

By the time they were able to defeat Pan, they’d been gone from Storybrooke for almost two months. And they realized Pan hadn’t really been defeated, just switched bodies with Henry. It took them another couple days before they realized and by that time, Pan cast his dark curse.

When her parents found her and Henry nearly a year and a half later in New York, breaking their curse with a memory potion, Emma remembered the last time she was there and the pirate she helped say goodbye. She wondered what happened to him after they left and how differently some things would have played out if Hook had truly turned tide and accompanied them on each mission.

Would Neal still have died? Would Henry have still gone to the Underworld by himself to save his father if there had been someone else, someone who knew Rumple the best of them all, to stop him?

Emma’s always hated the butterfly effect but the whisperings of how different things could have been still echo in her ear.

She laughs softly, disbelievingly, and the conch shell rattles in her palm.

“Hook – thank you. For looking out for Henry and for the conch shells.”

His voice is tinny when he talks. It holds a quality that he’s speaking through a can, a faint echo wrapping each word. “The Underworld is a dreadful place. I’m glad I found him when I did.”

“Is he okay? You – you mentioned something about a lapse in memory?”

Her eyes focus on the glowing conch in her palm, the only lifeline she has to communicate with her son. Hook’s voice flows over her and she takes in every word with rapt attention. Blood pumps in her ears as she hears the state of her son’s wellbeing and a sob claws at her throat, desperate to come out. But Emma refuses to make a sound, worried that any interruption could sever the only tie she has.

“Have you figured out how to get him?” Hook asks.

“Yeah but… I’m not sure how feasible it is.”

“A pirate always finds a way, love,” he says and Emma sinks onto his bed, a small smile on her lips. His voice is a comfort to her as well as his ship and so is his blunt honesty of the situation. Fluffing the truth did nothing to cushion the pain, she’s learned. It only hardens the impact. She’s grateful that, despite their past, he is looking out for her son and working with her to get him home. It’s a glimpse of the man she saw on the beanstalk, cleaning her hand and wrapping it with his own scarf, flirting but always looking to her to establish their boundaries and where to go next. “What is it?”

“We need Gold.”

“Is there no way you can do it without the damned crocodile?”

A loose thread on his blanket pulls her attention and her fingers wind around it. It seems so unlike the Captain Hook she knows to have anything out of place and she wonders if he was in the navy back in the Enchanted Forest.

“Unfortunately, not that we know of,” she says with a sigh. “And he’s currently MIA so add that to the list.”

“Bloody hell.”

Her lips quirk up. “My thoughts exactly.” She pauses, swallows. “Can... Can I speak with Henry?” The conch glows in her palm yet she hears no sound. Whatever Hook began to say, he stopped himself. “What is it? Is he okay? Hook?”

“Aye, uh, sorry about that, Swan.” Hesitance colors his words and the worry in Emma’s chest spikes up again. “The lad’s resting right now. The book has really taken a lot out of him and I loathe to wake up. I can, if you desire to speak with him, but I believe it’s best he rests some more.”

It breaks Emma’s heart to agree but she will do whatever to takes for her son to be okay. Hook promises to use the conch the moment Henry wakes and tells Emma where to find a chain in his captain’s quarters to put the conch on.

Hook comes up with the idea of forming a stable environment for Henry. “Perhaps a routine will do well to keep Henry from those memory lapses,” he says after his suggestion. Emma agrees – anything that could help is something worth doing. So they settle on a plan which consists of Emma calling in for mealtimes, morning wakeups, and bedtimes. Of course she plans to speak with Henry in between, as will the rest of his family, but setting these plans in place is what matters most.

In all honesty, it feels a lot like what co-parenting with Neal would have been like if he were alive. Probably not as easy, she figures, because Neal didn’t think things through as well as she did.

For some reason, neither of them wants their call on the shell phone to end. Hook is with her son and can actually tell her the truth of what’s going on without finding a way around it to protect her. It’s a connection she can’t bear to break. She assumes Hook continues talking with her because it must have been years since he’s talked to another person – or at least one that’s an adult.

When they’ve run out of things to talk about without it seeming obvious they wish to continue speaking, they say goodbye. She isn’t brave enough to ask and he’s got a self-loathing streak as tall as the beanstalk that he probably doesn’t think himself worthy. It’s all little things that their prides won’t leave aside. So they bid farewell, Hook promising to say her name the moment Henry wakes, and Emma stares as the glow of the conch shell slowly fades until its gone.

Her magic feels the sadness that rolls off of the enchanted wood of the Jolly and she places one hand on the wall, hoping to offer a calm sympathy. She’s never worked her magic with other enchanted objects before and she focuses on doing her best.

Emma closes the vault, slides the fake panel back over it, and swings the portrait shut to cover its secret. She casts one last look around the cabin and her heart feels heavy. She regrets leaving Hook on that bench, especially after they found out that Gold’s potion did save him. But Hook wouldn’t have taken it and at least in New York, he died on his terms.

The thoughts of what could have been and how things would be different if he survived ring in her head and before it can overwhelm her, she heads up the stairs and back to the town.

*

Emma Swan lives up to her title of Savior. Killian knows this firsthand.

He doesn’t remember much about dying. He knows what caused his death, and he remembers the moments up until his last breath, but things get fuzzy in the last few seconds.

He does remember Emma’s kindness. A kindness he didn’t deserve but she still offered to him. She brought him to the water to let him leave in peace even after he declined her offers of help, offers to figure out how to save him. She let him die how he wanted and he would be eternally grateful.

The weight around Killian’s ankle feels lighter as he moves swiftly about the loft, eyes glancing up to Henry’s bed every so often to see if he’s awoken.

For the first time in centuries, there’s a bounce in his step that has nothing to do with revenge. He feels light. He has hope.

Hope, though, is a dangerous thing in the Underworld.

Hades’ presence is lurking around every corner, ready to strike. Nervous energy fills Killian’s bones. During his venture on the street earlier, he saw a daisy emerging from the cracks in the sidewalk and he paused long enough for a lost soul to bump into him. His stumbled forward and if he had a heart, it would’ve broken at the realization he stepped on the flower. But he figures it was for the best. If Hades caught wind of that, Henry would be in even greater danger.

So Killian sits by Henry’s side as the boy sleeps and waits.

“Henry?” Emma whispers.

Killian sits up, pulling the conch necklace from around his neck. “Swan. Is everything alright?”

“Hook?” she questions. “Sorry, it’s morning and I hadn’t heard from Henry so I worried…”

“Aye,” Killian says with a sigh. He runs his hand over his face and looks over at the sleeping boy. “Time moves differently here. It doesn’t feel as if much time has passed. I’ll wake your boy.”

He stands but pauses at her soft voice.

“Thank you, so much. I – I really appreciate it, Killian.”

Aside from Henry, the only other time someone used his name in the last three hundred years had been her, when he was dying. Though he has no breath in his lungs, he feels as if it gets caught in his throat. He swallows hard and gently shakes Henry awake.

“Lad, there’s someone who wants to speak with you.”

“Dad?” he replies sleepily. Killian’s face pinches and he gives the tired boy a sad smile.

“Sorry, no. But it is your mother.”

Henry sits up and blinks wildly, eyes darting around the loft. “Is she here?”

Killian sits beside him and offers the conch shell from his necklace. “Apologies, Henry. She’s working on how to get to you but in the meantime,” he says, lifting the conch to their eye level, “you can communicate with her whenever you want through this.”

“A shell phone!” he exclaims, grabbing the conch and cradling it carefully in his hands, eyes wide in wonder. Killian doesn’t understand a single thing Henry is saying but he nods blankly in agreement. “How do I talk to her?”

“Henry?” Emma’s voice calls out. The conch glows an orange that makes Henry gasp. Killian pushes the conch closer to Henry’s mouth as the boy scrabbles up on his knees and sobs in relief.

“Mom? Mom!”

“Oh, Henry,” Her voice has a watery quality and it doesn’t take much effort for him to realize she’s near tears. “I’m so sorry, kid. We’re working so hard to get you home.”

“I’m sorry I came here,” Henry sobs. Killian looks at the boy, the same one who had been facing the uncertainties of the Underworld with a bravery his bloodline would be proud of, and is reminded that he’s still just a kid wanting to go home. Henry settles back down on the bed with tears slowly trailing down his cheeks. Killian hesitates before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Henry practically collapses into his side but is careful not to jostle the conch. He holds it with such gentleness that Killian’s chest aches. It brings him back to the days when he was convinced his father didn’t actually sell them into servitude and that he’d come back. If he just left the candle lit and wished upon the blue star then he’d be back. Although it never happened for him, he prays to every deity he knows that the same fate is to not befall Henry.

There is little Killian can do to offer the lad and his mother privacy, especially when the boy hasn’t moved from his side, so he tunes their conversation out to the best of his abilities.

Although his ears perk up at the mention of the crocodile, he hears enough to know nothing’s changed on that front and focuses on what’s happening in this odd little town outside of the loft. The line at the telephone booth has doubled in size, the souls that use it for hauntings nowhere in sight. In fact, he can’t recall a time the line looked that long.

“That’s a lot of people,” Henry says beside him. Killian turns his head to see Henry clutching the conch as he peers down at the line.

“Everything alright with your mother?” he asks. Henry nods.

“She told me your plan while I’m stuck here. Grandpa Gold is still missing but she’s still looking for him.” The boy hesitates before holding out the conch to Killian. “My other mom is going to call around lunch.”

Killian looks at the small hand in front of him and takes the conch shell. He can see the boy deflate and instantly realizes the desperate need to hold onto whatever connection he has to his family. Sliding his hook under the string of the necklace attached to the conch, he slides it over Henry’s head. “Would hate for you to miss such important calls.”

They share a grin. Then Henry’s eyes slide back over to the line outside the window. His eyes rove over the people and Killian can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“So the people here… they’re stuck in Underbrooke because they have unfinished business?”

“Aye.”

Henry turns back to Killian, one side of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. “Want to help them move on?”

*

“GOLD!”

Emma’s voice echoes around the pawn shop. Baubles cover every inch of counter space and there’s a thin layer of dust already accumulating atop them. The blinds are drawn closed and only the faint layers of sunlight can make it through the shadowy shop.

“I know you’re in here, Gold! Show yourself!” Her eyes dart to the dark corners of the shop but he doesn’t appear. Her magic flickers at her fingertips and she does her best to keep it under control. She needs Gold. Leroy and Doc were watching the shop and sent her a signal the second they spotted him enter through the back.

“Come out here and face me you coward!” One of the front windows cracks, her rage overcoming her as she yells and she takes a deep breath. The last thing she needs is to let her magic run wild and accidentally hurt Gold when he’s how they get Henry home.

“I do hope you plan on paying for that,” Gold says as he slowly emerges from the back of the shop, his cane aiding his movements.

When they went to Camelot to rid herself of the darkness, they left Gold in Storybrooke in his magic induced coma. They couldn’t risk him somehow funneling the dark magic back to himself. No longer a Dark One, he was a mere mortal. He could no longer hide behind his power or threaten others to do his bidding. It brought her a sick satisfaction for all of the three days he’d been awake when they returned until she learned what he helped Henry do.

“You!” she calls, voice rough and deep, so much anger wrapping around a single word.

“Yes. Me.” Gold stands with his hands on his cane and with an air of nonchalance that snaps Emma’s restraint. She rushes over to his, grabs the lapels of his suit jacket, and shoves him up against the wall. His cane clatters to the ground beside them.

“Why did you do that to Henry?” she hisses.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answers. She shoves him against the wall again.

“Why did you let him go to the Underworld?!”

“He wanted to go, Miss Swan. My grandson missed his father and wanted to save him. Who am I to deny that?”

“You deny that when it’s a death sentence!” She pushes him back and lets him stumble to regain his footing, bending to grab his cane. “How could you do that to your own grandson? To Baelfire’s son?!”

Gold sneers, his teeth sharp and looking every bit the crocodile Killian nicknamed him to be. “Don’t you dare speak my son’s name. You have no right. He died because of you!”

“He died because of Zelena!” Emma glares at Gold, feeling hatred climb her throat and her fingertips tingle. “And now you’ve sent his son on a one-way ticket to the Underworld.”

Gold rolls his eyes. “He would have gone with or without my help. This was the safest way, Miss Swan.”

“The safest way would be not letting him go, damn it!” Her palm slams down on the counter beside her and the glass shatters. Blood begins pooling in her hand almost immediately but her focus remains on Gold. “You are going to help us get him back.”

“Quite the assumption, isn’t that?” he says in response. He flicks his head to the side to move hair out of his face and Emma seethes. “I believe you’re on your own with this.”

“Hell. No.”

“Ironic choice of words.”

She steps into his space and lowers her voice. Her tone is lethal and she watches without any glee as the man before her gulps. “You’re going to help us, Gold. You opened the portal the first time for Henry and you’ll open it again for us to bring him back.” He opens his mouth to retort but Emma grabs his jacket again and shoves him back against the wall with one hand, her other reaching for the pocketknife in her jacket. She flicks out a blade and holds it to his neck, watching Gold squirm slightly under her grip. “If I have to slit your throat and drain you of all your blood then I will if it means saving Henry. Do not tempt me, Gold.”

“Cut as deep as you like,” he spits at her. “But you can’t make me bleed. Only I can.” Emma gasps, stepping back and shaking her head. “Oh yes, you best believe it, Miss Swan. Call it a parting gift from my time as a Dark One. I needed some securities in place if I were to survive in a town full of heroes.”

Emma barely hears his words as black curls the edges of her vision. Her breathing is stuttered and she drops her pocketknife to the floor.

Their one chance. Their only chance. And Gold won’t help. She knew he took his heart out before letting go of the darkness, and that he set certain charms in place that would last at least a lifetime before wearing off. Magic wouldn’t work to convince him. He held all the power to save Henry, to save his grandson, and he wasn’t doing it.

“You may be mortal now,” she begins, shaking in anger from where she’s bent over in the shop catching her breath. “But you’re more monster now than you were before.”

“I have an unborn son, Miss Swan. I will not do anything that could jeopardize him losing me and if that means preventing the prophecy from taking place then so be it. I failed my first son once and I won’t fail with another.”

“Twice,” she corrects. Gold tilts his head in her direction and glares at her. “You failed Neal twice. Once when you abandoned him as a boy and again when you sent his son to be trapped in the Underworld alone.”

Gold rolls his shoulders to stand straight, gripping the cane so tight his knuckles turn white. “Your son wanted to be with him more than you. Now he has an eternity with Baelfire.”

The laugh Emma lets out is humorless and full of pain. “You don’t even know, do you?” she says. She walks back over to Gold and points a finger at him. The blood that dripped down it dries on her skin. “Neal moved on. He’s not in the Underworld. He wasn’t there when Henry arrived.”

“What.” By the way Gold blinks at her statement, Emma can tell she hit a nerve. She glares, lets her lips curl up in anger, and steps closer.

She hisses, “You weren’t worth Neal staying around. He has no unfinished business with you.” She gives him an empty, bitter smile. Tears glitter in Gold’s eye as he searches for words in his heartbreak, distraught that he’ll never see his first-born again, and she says, “You and I though? We have plenty of unfinished business.”

Gold does his best to blink back the tears and regain the collected exterior he always projected. He swallows and tilts his head the slightest bit up at her. “We are done here, Miss Swan. Leave me, Belle, and our son alone.”

He turns his back on Emma and disappears into the back of the shop. She drags her feet out the door and shakes her head at Leroy and Doc waiting outside the shop. The emotional toll of the revelation she’s been handed is enough to exhaust her but she can’t go back to the loft and the reminders of her son and the fact she can’t save him. And that’s how she finds herself on the dock, feet at the bottom of the gangway of a majestic ship, whispering a name.

*

Writing in the storybook for other people and helping them complete their unfinished business is a relief to Henry. The more he writes for others, the less he feels like he’s forgetting.

There are still moments though. When Henry talks to Stealthy and he mentions Snow White, he can’t remember why the name sounds so familiar. The dwarf talks of her notoriety in the Enchanted Forest and how she tried to help him and his brother escape the jail cells. His head itches as if it’s trying to fetch the information and can’t find it.

Killian stands next to him and he leans over, informing him that Snow White is his grandma. He tells him that she also goes by Mary Margaret and she used to be his schoolteacher and she’s the same age as his mother because she was locked in a curse for nearly three decades, and Henry nods his head as if it all makes sense.

He writes for Stealthy and lets him know what his unfinished business is, all the while trying to figure out the oddities in his head. A curse? Snow White? This is all stuff made out of fairytales. And then he looks down and sees a magic pen literally writing in a fairytale book and it makes him dizzy.

A hook – a hook – on his back brings him back to focus and he looks up, staring at the face of a pirate.

“Henry,” the pirate says. He bends down next to his chair and keeps his voice quiet. “I need you to take a deep breath. Close your eyes and don’t think about anything.”

He wants to yell and scream and ask how this stranger knows his name. He wants to know where he is and why everything looks so red and why is he sitting at a table in the middle of the street with a line of people in front of him and with a crash clocktower no one pays attention to and –

The hook presses slightly harder into his back and Henry sucks in a breath, closes his eyes, and clears his mind.

When he opens them again, Killian is knelt next to his chair, worried. He swallows, scared, but still needs to know. “Did it happen again?”

Killian nods. “Aye.”

“Am I running out of time?” he whispers. But Killian shakes his head and moves closer, keeping his voice low so only he can hear him.

“Your mother is doing everything she can to make sure she gets to you. I’ve yet to see her fail and she’s not about to start.”

The confidence and surety in Killian’s voice sends a wave of calm over his shoulders. He knows a lot at 13 but adults know more. Especially adults that have been alive for over three hundred years. Killian hasn’t shied away from telling Henry the consequences of an extended stay in Underbrooke and if Killian’s not worried about his mom saving him, then neither should he.

The rings on Killian’s fingers glimmer and for a moment, Henry swears sunlight has made its way to Underbrooke. However, a quick scan just shows more of the red haze he’s become accustomed to. He watches as Killian pushes aside the storybook he’s been writing in and pulls out his other one from his backpack. “Why don’t you check on how she’s doing?”

He nods and takes the storybook from Killian’s hands, the one from the world he belongs to, and flips through the pages. He stops when an image begins to appear on a blank page.

His mom is standing in Grandpa Gold’s pawn shop and she had him pressed against the wall with a knife to his throat. Chuckles echo in his ear and he turns his head to see Killian’s amusement at the drawing. The pirate raises his eyebrows, his smirking broadening, and shrugs. “Your mother is a formidable force, lad. Anyone who crosses her should be sorry.”

When Killian’s eyes go back to tracing the drawing in the book, he watches him. Killian always speaks of his mom with a fondness in his voice and like he’s amazed at everything she does. He’d bet that Killian probably thinks his mom could force the sun to shine just because she willed it.

His nose scrunches up as he turns back to the book. Yep. Captain Hook definitely has a crush on his mom.

“I can’t believe you have a crush on my mom,” he teases. Henry comes from a family of True Love – his mom is literally the product of it. One doesn’t live in Storybrooke and become the Author and not be a fan of happy endings, even if it feels weird to see it happening with his mom.

Killian coughs beside him and Henry takes a small bit of glee at unseating the captain once again. Even with the chains he drags around Underbrooke, Killian rarely looks unsettled. The pirate narrows his eyes at Henry but it doesn’t diminish the grin on his face. “I’m a big fan of your mother, of every part of her. Especially when she’s threatening the crocodile.”

“Mhmm,” Henry hums disbelievingly.

“I know my limits, lad,” Killian says, his voice suddenly serious. Henry meets his gaze and sees the pained expression on the man’s face. “I’m trapped here for eternity. No matter how I feel about anything, I won’t subject your mother to that truth. She doesn’t need that weight on her shoulders.”

Henry shrugs. “True Love conquers everything though.”

He watches as his words land and Killian shifts uncomfortably from where he still knelt beside him. There’s a look that crosses his features, dark and sorrowful and full of more hurt than Henry thought someone could hold and he realizes his mistake.

Maybe Milah was Killian’s happy ending. His True Love. And she moved on without him.

His mouth opens, an apology on the tip of his tongue, and Killian shakes his head. A small smile plays on his lips. “I don’t have a True Love, Henry.” His hand reaches out and taps the book. “Let’s put this away and see who else we can help, aye?”

“Killian?” a voice calls, faint. They look at each other, searching for who must be calling for him when the voice repeats itself and Henry looks down at the conch around his neck.

“I think my mom needs your help,” he says. He takes it off and hands it to Killian. “I’ll wait here.”

*

The Jolly Roger greets Emma like an old friend. She feels no resistance as she moves through the magical barrier and it rocks gently, soothingly, under her feet.

Killian’s cabin is the exact same as the first time she entered, the only exception being the wrinkles she left in his blanket. All she really wants to do is curl up in the comforter and cry but her son needs her and she needs to figure out a new way to get him home.

She stops resisting temptation and falls back on the bed, legs dangling over the edge, and takes out the conch shell. Her voice doesn’t even sound like her own when she calls out for him twice before his answers.

“Swan?”

A sob rips from her throat.

“I failed him.”

“Now that doesn’t sound like the Emma Swan I know.”

She groans, slamming her hand against the comforter. “Killian. I’m not joking.” She sucks in a haggard breath and sniffles.

“Neither am I,” he says. “We checked the book. I saw you found Rumple.”

The snort she lets out is broken and frustrated. What luck that did her. “He won’t help.”

“What?” Disbelief colors Killian’s voice in a way that shocks her to her core. If there is one person in all the realms that hated Rumpelstiltskin the most, it was Captain Hook. “Not even for Baelfire’s son?” he asks.

“No,” she admits through tears. “He was told a prophecy once that a boy would reunite him with his son but that boy would also be his undoing, so he figured if he got rid of Henry, he wouldn’t have to worry about the second half of the prophecy.” Killian breaks into a rant of words she’s never heard before and she can only assume it consists of various curses.

“He may look a man but there is nothing human left in him,” Killian growls. The conch in her hand grows so brightly and shakes in her palm so violently that she fears it might break.

“Killian – Killian,” she says, but he doesn’t seem to hear her and she watches helplessly as the conch cracks. “Killian!” He finally pauses and all Emma hears is his deep breathing, the conch glowing in time with each exhale. “You need to calm down or the conch is going to break.”

“Apologies, Swan. I’d hope the coward would have been brave enough to help for the sake of his grandson.”

“Yeah, well you’re not the only one.” She breathes deep in an effort to calm herself. Any heightened emotions might be enough to break the conch and she has no idea if there’s any way to fix it if it comes to that. Her cheeks are sticky from where her tears tracked down and she wipes at them hastily with the sleeve of her sweater. “There’s no way to get to Henry now.”

“Come on, Swan. Isn’t your mother the epitome of hope? Even your boy has more hope than you right now.”

The breath that leaves her lips comes out sounding like a huff of laughter. “Yeah, well it skipped a generation.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he murmurs. “I saw you at the lake when Cora tried to take your heart. It’s in there, deep down.” She hums noncommittedly. They’ve spent days searching for a way into the Underworld and their own answers pointed back to Gold. Without the ability to get his help, or even force it from him, Henry was stuck there. Tears burn at the back of her eyelids again and she breaths out shakily, willing herself to remain calm.

Killian’s voice breaks through her thoughts and for a moment, she forgot he was on the other end of the conch. “What was it that Rumpelstiltskin was supposed to do?”

“We need his blood to open the portal to the Underworld. Only someone who’s died and come back to life can open it and he’s the only one who’s done that. His protections from when he was the Dark One are still in place and there’s no way to get it from him.”

“Wait, did you say you need his blood?”

Her eyebrows furrow and she wonders why he’s so shocked at that detail. Blood is a common ingredient for dark magic and for someone who’s chased down a way to kill Gold for centuries, he should know that.

“Yeah…” she answers, confused.

“Bloody hell, love,” Killian exclaims. The elation in his voice only confuses her more. Her eyes stare at the glowing conch in her hand.

“Why are you so happy? Did you not hear what else I said?”

“No, no, no, no,” Killian says. She can hear the smile in his voice and honestly ponders the thought that he’s gone mad. “You don’t need the crocodile. I have what you need.”

“Uh, in case you forgot, you’re dead in the Underworld. Unless you can open the portal from your end –”

“No, I can’t. But I have – had – what you need. You’ll need to go to my ship.”

The Jolly rocks in the water and Emma sits up in the bed, one hand pressing against the wall to steady herself. She imagines this is a ship’s equivalent of a dog wagging their tail. “Uh – I’m… I’m already on it.”

Silence follows her statement. It weighs on them like a thousand unspoken words and she knows he wants to say whatever statement is at the tip of his tongue but he holds back.

“You are?” he chokes out in disbelief. She rolls her eyes and stands from the bed.

“So what do you have on here that’ll help?” Regina’s words slip into her mind and she really hopes Killian doesn’t have a cabinet full of vials containing the blood of his enemies.

“You’ll have to go into my vault. You still have the key, yes?”

“Got it right here,” she says, her hand reaching up to the chain she never took off of her neck. Her fingers pull the necklace off and once she reveals the hidden safe, she slides the key into place and opens it. “What am I looking for?”

“There should be a bloody rag there.”

“I see it.” She searches his room for something to grab it with and comes across a short scarf.

“Aye. That’s what you’ll use.”

She frowns as she carefully picks up the rag, dark red staining the beige cloth. It reminds her of a potato sack. “Not that I’m not grateful but you happened to keep a bloody rag of Gold’s because…?”

His answer is short and anger peaks out from underneath his words. “Because that’s the rag I wiped my hook with after I stabbed the crocodile when he crushed Milah’s heart in front of me.”

The silence that follows this time is heavy and suffocating and Emma regrets even opening her mouth. As much as she’s come to rely on Killian in this, and as much as she knows about his thirst for revenge, there’s still a plethora to uncover. She places the conch on the desk and gently folds the rag into a small square before wrapping it in the scarf.

When he speaks next, his tone is apologetic and she feels guilt build in her stomach.

“Cut the rag in half, that way you have one to get home.” He sighs quietly, the conch’s glow fading slowly. “I have to be honest, love, but I have no idea if it’ll work.”

“But it’s hope,” she offers.

“I knew you had it in you,” he says softly. She’s glad he’s not in front of her to see the way she rolls her eyes as her mouth turns up in smile.

She eyes the content of the vault, the drawing of the woman he spent centuries avenging. “I – I don’t know if it’s even possible but is there anything you want me to bring to you? Since I’ll be going to the Underworld anyway.”

The conch doesn’t glow. She wonders if he thought their conversation ended and left, and then she wonders how one even ends a connection on a shell phone. A sigh fills the quiet of the cabin and she goes to close the vault when he finally speaks.

“My mother’s ring,” he says quietly.

A glittering silver band with a small jewel sitting atop it catches her interest. It’s modest and so unlike the large gems she saw on the rings he wore. The jewel looks like a diamond but when she picks it up, it gleams like the entire rainbow is held inside of it, reminding her of the rainbow of colors that flushed Storybrooke when she broke the first curse. It’s beautiful.

She considers putting it on her finger but decides against it. No one in Storybrooke is able to keep a secret and the rumor mill would go crazy at the sight of a ring on any of her fingers. Plus, she doubts he wants Gold to see it, lest he knows it belongs to Killian and considers doing something nefarious to it. So she opens the chain that holds the vault key and slips the ring onto that, putting the necklace back on and tucking it under her sweater.

“I have it,” she says. “It’s safe. Is there anything else?” Her fingers play with the drawing of Milah and she goes to pick it up.

“That’s it, love. Thank you.”

Instead, she shuts the vault with the drawing in it, covers it up, and glances around the cabin, eyes settling on the wrapped cloth. “Thank you, Killian. I’ll go see Regina so we can get ready to open the portal. She’ll want to talk to Henry too.” She licks her lips and closes her eyes, cradling the conch to her chest. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

*

Henry doesn’t notice it until they’re walking down the streets of Underbrooke but Killian’s chains are quieter than they were before. The pile curls around his leg with every step but the pirate doesn’t pay any attention to them. He swears still that it has lessened too but Killian shoots that idea down.

“The weight of the chains is the same, lad,” he says as he directs them to the park. “I have far too many sins to be forgiven.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Henry says. They pass a sprawling area of tombstones in every state and he studies them. “Does Hades have a tombstone?” he asks.

Killian looks back at the cemetery but continues their walk. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Why not?”

“If Hades had a tombstone, it would make him a soul in limbo. He wouldn’t be the ruler of the Underworld and he’d lose his magic.”

His eyes catch Killian’s hook before he gestures to it. “Hades gave you the chisel and wanted you to put names on tombstones. If other people can put names on tombstones, why hasn’t anyone tried that with his?”

Killian is silent. He opens the gate to the park and lets Henry through first before he follows. “It’s only ever been a rumored possibility. The only known way to defeat Hades is through the Olympian Crystal. However, if writing his name on a tombstone worked, the Underworld could be thrown into chaos. No one knows what happens to it without a ruler. And if it doesn’t work, whoever conspired against him would face a fate far worse than I did.”

“No one’s ever tried?”

“You need an object specially enchanted by Hades to mark a tombstone. He keeps those close to his chest, lest anyone try to use it for escape.”

They pass a playground, the lake right around the corner, and there’s kids playing there without a care. He frowns. For as long as he’s been in Underbrooke, he forgets it isn’t full of just adults. Maybe he should stick around and help them too.

Why shouldn’t he stick around? He can’t think of any reason to not. Afterall, he’s just like those kids – stuck in Underbrooke and without a family. Lost boys and girls need to stick together.

“Bloody hell,” Killian growls. Henry turns to him and sees a fierce glare marring his features. He follows his gaze and sees a figure standing in front of the lake just feet away. The very lake they were heading towards.

The figure stands straight, wearing a thick black coat with the collar upturned. His skin is a sickly pale color and his red hair looks dull, fading into the red haze that covers Underbrooke.

“You didn’t think you could plan an escape and I wouldn’t know, did you?” the figure asks, smug.

“Hades,” Killian hisses. He steps forward, his arm extended out in front of Henry. The hook at the end of his wrist is angled towards Hades. “He doesn’t belong here.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Hades tuts, “I think I’m the judge of that – literally.” Henry chills at the grin that appears on Hades’ face and steps back, further behind Killian.

“Let him go home.”

Home? Henry’s eyes dart from the man standing protectively in front of him to the imposing figure by the water. Why are they talking about home? Isn’t this his home?

His head swivels, looking in every direction, searching for the kids at the playground. The other lost ones. The ones without a family. They were his home, weren’t they? Lost ones stick together. He doesn’t know anyone else. All alone in the world, he needed to go to other kids like him.

“Look at him,” Hades says. He’s smirking and his hair hints a blue color along its tips. “It’s too late.”

The man in front of him turns, eyes frantically searching his for something he doesn’t find. A hand and a hook rest on his shoulders. “Henry,” the man says, anxious. “I need you to focus. Close your eyes and take a breath. Henry, focus on me, aye?”

Henry watches the man in front of him, his mouth moving faster than he can comprehend the words. The man closes his eyes and mimics a deep breath, repeating himself and urging Henry to do the same. So he closes his eyes and does that.

His eyes open and Killian has his head ducked a few inches lower to meet his height. By the worried look on his face, Henry doesn’t even have to ask to know what happened. He can see Hades over Killian’s shoulder, cocky and taking great pleasure in the scene that just unfolded before him.

“You can stop this, Captain,” he offers. Killian stands and turns, keeping Henry completely behind his back. Henry grabs for the back of Killian’s shirt, needing something to steady himself as waves of dizziness pound at his temples.

A popping sound echoes in the quiet park and Henry feels a quick gust of wind blow his hair off his forehead. To the side is a large, white tombstone appears. Blank. A sizzling sound comes next and he looks down to see Killian’s hook glowing.

“Write his name,” Hades says. “End his suffering. Let him keep the memory of his family so one day he can move on.”

“I would never,” Killian spits out in response.

Hades pouts, Henry gasping as his hair transforms to a fiery blue flame. It is harsh and uncontrolled, whisps shooting an inch out from his head. For being fire, all it does is bring cold. The already chilled air of Underbrooke drops to freezing with Hades flames free.

Henry squeezes his eyes shut as Underbrooke swirls around him, his breathing shallow and harsh.

He wants to throw up and he’s not sure why. His hands are clutching the shirt of a stranger and the red grass that should be on the ground is spinning and there’s a man by the lake with blue flames for hair. None of it makes sense. Not the tombstone in the park and not the man in front of him having a hook for a hand.

“Oh look,” the blue haired man taunts. “It’s happening again. He’s so close.”

The man in front of him glances over his shoulder, face tight. “Henry. Close your eyes and breathe. CLOSE YOUR EYES AND BREATHE.”

“You won’t be able to save him, Captain.”

“I can damn well try, Hades.”

Hades laughs. His heart is racing and he doesn’t know how someone could be laughing when the tension in the park could be cut with a knife. Dread fills his body and he’s not sure how he anticipates it but he sees the blue haired man flick his wrist and then the captain protecting him is flown from his grasp and against a tree.

“KILLIAN!” he yells out on instinct. He isn’t sure where the name comes from or why he cares about the man Hades just tossed aside, but the sight makes his heart drop to his stomach as the man lays on the ground, unmoving.

“What’d you do to him?!” he cries.

Hades waves off his concern, stepping closer to him. “He was just getting in our way.” Henry backs up, stumbling and falling to the ground as Hades makes a chisel appear out of thin air. His hand waves and it floats, moving closer to the blank tombstone. “Since he doesn’t like obeying orders, I’ll have to do it myself.”

The chisel finishes writing out Henry Mills when a voice yells out weakly.

“NO!”

Henry slams his eyes shut at the shout and when he opens them, he sees Killian struggling to stand.

“I’ll make you a deal, Hades!”

“Oh!” Hades is amused as he turns to face Killian, and Henry’s eyes dart between the two men. He goes to step towards Killian, to offer him a shoulder to lean on and regain his strength, but Killian subtly shakes his head and eyes the lake. Henry swallows, not wanting to look away, but knowing he must. His footsteps are quiet and small, but he makes his way closer to the water. “What exactly makes you think you’re in a position to make deals, Hook?”

“I know you’ve regretted the one we’ve made since the moment I came here,” he sneers. “Now’s your chance. Take his name off the tombstone and let the lad go home to his family. Do that and you can toss me into Acheron!”

What.

“No! You can’t do that!” Henry cries out. He moves to rush to Killian but Hades holds out his hand and he is frozen. He’s helpless, forced to watch as Hades closes in on Killian waves his hands around.

The chain attached to Killian’s ankle climbs up his body. Iron links clank against one another as it curls around his body and moves to his neck. He wants to look away but his eyes remain stuck. The chain begins to work its way around Killian’s neck when it stops. It is extended as far as it can go.

“WHERE IS THE REST OF YOUR CHAIN?!” Hades hollers. He closes his fist and Henry sees Killian’s face turning red, his hands clutching at an invisible force around his neck. Hades turns to him next. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!”

Henry shakes his head wildly. “I – I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Hades whole body erupts in blue flames. He moves his wrist and Killian slams against the tombstone, down for the count again. Grass burns in Hades’ wake; blue flames sizzle it to the dirt and marks his pathway. “YOU! I should have tossed you into Acheron the moment you arrived here! You’re ruining the Underworld!”

Balls of blue flame appear in each of Hades’ palms and Henry ducks just in time for them to soar above his head. He runs and hides behind a tree, panting. Hades appears suddenly in front of him, hand grasping his arm, and Henry hisses as the blue flames burn a mark onto his arm.

“Spreading hope and helping people move on? You’ve unsettled the balance that I’ve created here!”

“All you’ve done is shifted the power in your favor. I did your job,” Henry hisses. His eyes widen as Hades growls. Cries rip from his throat as the burn on his arms extends.

A small pop echoes in his ear and Henry slams his mouth shut when he sees the vial in Hades’ hand.

“Do you know what this is, Henry?” Hades says, voice gruff and dark. “This is water from Acheron. And you’re going to drink it all.” Henry sucks in his lips, shaking his head side to side as Hades grabs his chin. “Open up or I’ll make you watch me toss Captain Hook in before you.”

The vial tips and Hades squeezes Henry’s chin hard, his mouth dropping open against his will. He still struggles in his grip but he knows he’s no match for a god. The water moves to the edge of the vial and he closes his eyes.

“HENRY!”

Instead of feeling soul-sucking water go tumbling down his throat, he feels a gust of wind flow over his body. It’s warm and comforting and wraps around him like a protective embrace. His eyes open to see Hades sprawled across the burnt grass, struggling to get up, and he gasps for breath. Turning the opposite way, he sees his mom, blonde hair looking like a halo, on the edge of the lake.

“MOM!” he cries out. Legs pumping faster than they ever have before, Henry rushes to his mom. He launches himself at her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she wraps hers around his shoulders. She cradles the back of his head like Gramps always does and he cries into her shoulder, relief flooding his body.

“Henry,” she weeps. Her chin rests on his head and he never wants to move from this spot. Warmth radiates from her and her clutches her tighter. He never should have gone to Underbrooke by himself.

“Well,” Hades says as he stands, his footsteps staggering. Henry and Emma keep their arms wrapped around each other as they turn to face him. “If it isn’t the savior. This’ll be a fine addition to my collection.”

“Never going to happen,” Emma hisses. She pushes Henry behind her and readies her palms, aiming at Hades once again. Closing her eyes, she braces herself and pushes her palms outward.

But nothing happens.

“Did you forget, Savior?” Hades taunts. His lips curl, condescending as he approaches them. “You’re in my dominion. You’ll play by my rules.”

A twitch of his fingers is all it takes for flames to shoot out of his hand and engulf his mom. She cries out in agony as it wraps around her feet and up to her torso. He cries with her, his hand reaching out but Hades’ magic doesn’t let him go any farther.

Then it stops.

Emma collapses to the ground, gasping for air, and Henry rushes to her side. He glances up at Hades to see the god confused before raising his hand and aiming it at the two of them. Much like with his mother’s magic, nothing happens.

“What do you know? The rumors are true,” Killian rasps by the tombstone. His chain is laying in a useless pile on the floor, unattached to his ankle, and dust from broken marble covers a thin layer above it.

Henry’s eyes look up from the pile to the tombstone to see his name crossed out. In the place of Henry Mills is Hades, written with the hook without any finesse or style, more a barely legible scrawl by a three-year-old than an actual word. But it works.

Hades yells. It’s a loud screech that has Henry covering his ears and sends the kids at the nearby playground run screaming. He watches as the god tries to teleport himself and roars when he is unable to. He pulls the chisel from his jacket pocket and stalks towards Killian.

Killian hastily stands, leaving the tombstone between himself and Hades’ oncoming warpath. Instead, he eyes his hook before lifting it and slamming it down to the top of the tombstone. A small crack appears and Hades’ footsteps stutter before he picks up his pace. Killian lifts his hook and slams it down again, the crack widening.

Emma stirs beside Henry and he checks over his mom. Unlike with him, Hades’ flames don’t seem to have left any marks on his mom. Her eyes search around the park, flittering over to where Killian stands, hammering his hook into the tombstone. “Killian…” she whimpers.

“Mom,” Henry cries, “we have to help him.”

He feels rather than sees his mom reaching out to her magic. Without Hades’ own to tamper with her power, her fingertips sizzle and spark. Sitting back on his heels, he notices his mom find the vial Hades threatened him with and call it to her hand. Firm in her grasp, she gets up and rushes to the two men.

With a final slam on the tombstone, it cracks in half. The sound that follows is deafening, like a black hole sucking everything into it and leaving nothing in its wake. His vision almost blacks out and when he blinks it back to focus, he catches Hades slam the chisel in his hand into Killian’s stomach.

Emma arrives a moment later, tossing the vial of Acheron’s water at Hades body. They watch as the god sizzles into the ground, smoke emitting from where he stood. Then Killian collapses.

“Come on, Henry, help me,” Emma urges as she leans down to wrap one of Killian’s arms around her neck.

“Mom,” Henry sobs, shaking his head. “We can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” she insists. “I have a way for us to go home and we can take Killian with us too!”

“No, Mom.” Emma stops trying as Henry kneels next to Killian, the man’s eyes closed and the chisel still embedded in his stomach. He didn’t know souls in Underbrooke could bleed. If they didn’t need to eat or drink, then why would they bleed? Tears flow freely down his cheeks as he keeps his gaze on him. “He has his name on a tombstone. And it’s cracked.”

Emma falls back on her butt, sitting opposite him. They’re both at a loss for words, Henry clutching to Killian’s hook. Her hands reach for the necklace under her sweater and pulls off the ring. She opens Killian’s hand, places the ring in his palm, and curls his fingers over it.

A flash of light fills their visions and Henry looks up to see a man draped in white, a glow surrounding his body.

“Zeus!” Henry calls. “Zeus, can you help him?”

Instead of answering, the god extends his arm and gestures to the lake. “Come now. You both don’t belong here and need to go home.”

“But what about Killian? We can’t just leave him here!” Emma pleads. Zeus gives them an understanding smile.

“My brother became out of control during his rule here. Killian’s helped to defeat him, just as you both have. I’ll ensure he finds peace. But you must go before it’s too late.”

*

Being back in Storybrooke is odd, Henry decides quickly. He’s grown used to the red haze that covered Underbrooke that seeing a multitude of colors is a shock to his eyes at first. He never realized how vibrant some things were.

His family welcomes him with open arms, plenty of kisses, and lots of food. Granny cooked enough for the whole town during their first family dinner after being reunited and Henry stuffed his stomach until he couldn’t breathe. Even though he felt sick after, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Killian crosses his mind often in the first few days back. A man who resigned himself to fate, destined to suffer for all eternity. A villain who doubted he could change his ways despite his actions proving otherwise. Killian Jones was a hero who gave his life to save Henry and he wouldn’t ever be able to repay all he did.

It’s on his way to the station to meet his mom for lunch that he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him.

Henry’s barely spent time away from Emma unless he was with Regina. Being in Underbrooke, forgetting your family, and almost getting stuck there for eternity kind of leaves them not wanting to let each other out of their sights. Every day since coming back, he meets Emma outside of the station for lunch and they walk to Granny’s.

Except he’s halfway to the station when he spots a figure outside of Any Given Sundae that looks familiar.

He wears black jeans instead of leather and a button-up dress shirt instead of his billowy pirate gear, a new vest over it too. A more modern leather jacket hangs on his shoulders, dress shoes adorning his feet. For being a three-hundred-year-old pirate, he looks every bit the modern man.

“Killian?” Henry calls out in disbelief. Killian’s head shoots up, searching for the voice. His face lights up when he sees him across the street. Henry’s sure the grin on his face could split his lips from how far its stretched but he doesn’t care. He bounds into the street, narrowly avoiding a car driving by, and rushes at Killian. In the back of his mind, he can hear Emma calling his name in concern.

“Oof,” Killian huffs, stumbling back a step from the force of Henry’s hug, but he voices no complaints. Henry has his arms wrapped tightly against his waist and he closes his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re here! How are you here?”

“Killian?” Emma asks in wonder. Henry looks up to see her eyes widen and her mouth drop open once she’s crossed the street, her footsteps slowing. She looks as if she can’t believe what’s happening which, if Henry’s honest, neither can he.

“Emma,” Killian says breathlessly, his mouth widening into a smile again. Henry’s eyes dart between the two before he steps back, his mom not even noticing. Killian’s hand reaches out for her but she’s quicker, grabbing his face and pulling him down for a kiss.

They clutch at each other like they’re drowning and the other person is their last chance for breath. Normally Henry isn’t one for public displays of affection by either of his moms, but he’ll let this one slide.

Emma and Killian eventually break apart but Emma plants kisses across his face, catching his cheeks and eyelids before pulling his mouth back to hers.

Henry coughs, eyes averting from the scene before him and only looks back when he hears soft laughter coming from both of them. “So how are you back?” he asks, grinning at Killian.

“Zeus, actually.”

“Really?” Emma questions with a grin.

“Yeah, believe it or not, he’s actually much better than his brother.” They all laugh and Henry embraces the moment. Just a few days ago, he never thought he’d get this again. “My actions in the Underworld absolved me of most of my sins and helping to defeat Hades seemed to forgive the rest. He offered me the opportunity to move on but,” he says, pausing. Killian wraps his hooked arm around Emma and reaches his hand into his pocket. Henry instantly spots the ring his mom put in Killian’s palm.

“But, someone brought me an object that belonged to me while I was alive and was left behind in the land of the living.” Killian grins at Emma, awe filling every inch of his face. It makes Henry smile too. He doesn’t recall anyone looking at his mom like that before. “I didn’t even know that could happen but Zeus said it allowed me the opportunity to bring my soul back.”

The to you is unsaid but understood as Killian moves his gaze between him and his mom.

He moves forward, wrapping his mom and Killian in a tight hug.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he’s home.

[butweareafamily]

like this for something blatantly shippy which can be a clichè moment happening earlier than in canon, or it can come from some canon divergent plot (not leaving him behind at the beanstalk, him having found out Gold used his life to prompt Emma to follow him to Manhattan, them having had some positive interaction before the end of s2, idk), or just be them having a nice moment while dating or even the whole pregnancy reveal, basically all the captain swanness (Emma is already properly closed off with him so we can try something where circumstances and different manifestations of her defensive mechanisms lead to it)

(since other ships will require a lot of plotting this has to be cs specific)

(feel free to specify preferences tho)

[tomeandflickcorner]

CS Fic Rec Monday Contribution

Two submissions for this week’s Cs Fic Rec Monday

First off, and oldie but goodie.  The Fluffy Problem by @effulgentcolors.  If this wasn’t the originator of the Kitty Killian trope, it was probably one of the first fics to utilize it.  In this fic, which takes place back in S2, Cora decides to punish Killian for his betrayal with the Beanstalk by turning him into a cat.  Which forces him to once again join forces with Emma and the Princess Squad.

Second of all, a one-shot that’s a must-read for anyone who can’t get enough of a pining Killian.  And Disorderly by @vickyvicarious.  It’s not quite a canon divergence fic, but more of alternate take of certain events following the Nevengers’ return from Neverland, with Killian reacting to Emma’s lunch date with Neal.

[darkcolinodonorgasm]

Would you write wish captain swan with Alice content?

Hi nonny! Wish Captain Swan is one of the theories I love, I’m an hardcore supporter of it and will be until the day I die, probably. However, writing it, eh, I try to keep myself as far away as I can from canon and what little canon I read is written from people who I know won’t trash the story and have the same thoughts about certain characters as me.

I’m trying to write a huge canon divergence from s2, but it’s also a complete alternate universe of sorts, made to fit my own headcanons.

If I were to write what we fondly call Captain Swan 2.0:

a) I would need - personally, because I couldn’t do it in any other way - to change Emma’s story with Baelfire, because I honestly don’t think their relationship was a bed of roses at all, much like it was in canon

b) there would be lots of ant-Regina moments, justice to be demanded and, probably the realms wouldn’t be joined. Yes, of course it’d be better but... geography. Where the hell would you put all the realms? In a whole new universe? Besides, no Queen would submit to Regina, Wish Henry wouldn’t call her “mom” at all, she would face justice for what she did to Wish Snowing, because it was her, not Wish EQ, who killed them, and since s7 made the Wish Realm real, she murdered yet again two innocent people in cold blood. So it would involve her being treated very poorly - not that I mind

c) there would be Wish Emma claiming the throne of Wish Misthaven

d) Storybrooke Emma and Killian would not have a daughter named Hope because I could never write it - they would have one named Alice, or a boy named Liam - or both. Writing a child named Hope is something I really can’t write

So whatever I would write about CS 2.0 would completely change what happened in the series finale. And that’s why I keep myself away from canon as much as possible :’D

[aceofwhump]

Okay I went back through my AO3 bookmarks for this whole year and turns out I've read like 200 fics this year! That's a lot of good fics! Here are some of my favorites that I read this year:

Leverage - Eliot Spencer: Hanging Out by cosette141 Summary: While Eliot and Hardison are on a job in the woods, Eliot gets badly injured. Now with bad guys on their tail, Hardison needs to step up, or they're both as good as dead. Damn, Hardison hated outside. Hardison/Eliot brotherly friendship. Hurt/Comfort. Eliot whump

Leverage - Eliot Spencer: The Longer Way Down Job by cosette141 Summary: On the way down the mountain in The Long Way Down Job, Eliot and Parker don't make it down so easily. When an avalanche strands them far from help, Eliot and Parker have to keep warm and stay awake. But even the ones who do what the others can't... can't last the frigid cold forever. Eliot/Parker sibling friendship. Hurt/Comfort

Once Upon a Time - Killian Jones and Emma Swan: Don't Let Go (Because I Can't Hold it Back Anymore) by cosette141 (canon divergence for s4 episode "White Out") Summary: Rather than Emma and Elsa trapped in the ice cave, Emma is trapped with Killian. They have to keep warm and stay awake as they fight the frigid cold, or their first quiet moment together may very well be their last. h/c CS (CSSS 2021 gift for jrob64!)

Once Upon a Time - Killian Jones: A Snowball's Chance by cosette141 Summary: After Emma rescues Killian from Hades in the Underworld, David and Snow tend to some of Killian's physical wounds, and end up healing emotional ones. (aka, Snow and David acting as parental figures for Killian) hurt/comfort oneshot

Downton Abbey - Thomas Barrow: Détente by DarthNickels Summary: ''a relaxing of tension, especially between nations, as by negotiations or agreements." 6x08 Missing scene. Mr. Bates has never had reason or inclination to be patient with Thomas. Today, he will try.

Bridgerton - Anthony Bridgerton: a thousand cuts by wall_e_nelson Summary: Every single day, Anthony tries very hard not to walk directly into the ocean. A collection of non-linear one-shots, headcanons, AUs, and missing scenes for Anthony Bridgerton. (this story was written in the year between s1 and s2. the character is based in the little we knew of s1 show!Anthony, pulling the rest of him and the world needed from the books.)

The Mentalist - Patrick Jane: Sailors Take Warning by altschmerzes Summary: One moment, Red John has left Patrick Jane alone in an abandoned theater, restrained and traumatized. The next, thanks to a two-day time skip, he is back at the CBI office, sitting on his couch. This is what happened in-between. (Or, the one where I give us the rescue scene we deserved.)

The Mentalist - Patrick Jane: Lisbon's daily troubles by waltraud Summary: Days at the CBI could already be stressfull enough, but for Lisbon and her Team, they have another challenge to take, as they have adopted that not very self-caring consultant to their team. A little collection of the new troubles the teams has to deal with. Mostly whump (sickness, injury…), no sexual content planed.

Hudson & Rex - Charlie Hudson: synonyms for ordeal by sellthebeamer Summary: This is bone-deep weariness mixed with dread and the horrid realization of how close they came to dying. It’s an icy grip on his chest and gravel in his throat and aching sobs shaking his shoulders.

Hudson & Rex - Charlie Hudson: travails in the woods by sellthebeamer Summary: "I'm sorry, pal," he says, and his shoulders shake with sobs. "I'm so sorry."

Lucifer - Lucifer Morningstar: The Nicest Gift by Moniff Summary: When a bomb goes off in the middle of the precinct, Lucifer finds himself in a very tight spot - literally. Trapped with Trixie under the rubble, they have to wait for the rescuers - and stay alive. Or, a shameless h/c fic with loads of cute Lucifer-Trixie fluff.

Lucifer - Lucifer Morningstar: dead weight hanging off of my shoulders by razchoco Summary: No matter how many times Lucifer cuts off his wings, they keep coming back. It’s getting harder by the day to disguise the pain he’s in (for whumptober day 3: taunting | insults | "who did this to you?")

Obi-Wan Kenobi: hardly stood proud by aarkose Summary: Obi-Wan is severely injured after his encounter with Darth Vader on Mapuzo. A take on the emotional and physical aftermath of chapter III, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

White Collar - Neal Caffrey: As The Smoke Clears by cosette141 Summary:  After the plane explodes, we see Neal fall apart and Peter hold him back, then two months go by unseen. Here are the events that took place after the explosion. H/C (on hiatus as of 12/05/21.)

Bridgerton - Anthony Bridgerton: Trouble Magnet by Victoria_52745 Summary: A collection of oneshots, mostly of the Bridgerton family taking care and comforting Anthony in various occasions just because I love vulnerable Anthony.

Arrow - Oliver Queen: Man's Best Friend by AlexiaBlackbriar13, bushlaboo Summary: When first arriving back from Lian Yu, Oliver Queen is diagnosed with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and acute social anxiety. Within a week, his mother has hired him a psychiatric therapist. A therapist with four paws and a tail. A German Shepherd-husky mix, ex-military dog called Hunter is paired with Oliver as his psychiatric service dog, and from there on, the archer’s recovery from his five years of trauma, struggle to adapt to the new social commitments of owning a service dog, and his mission to save Starling City, begin.

Sandman - Dream of the Endless: For Want of Caution by mayanpaw Summary: Hob Gadling was not by nature a cautious man but even he knew the value of keeping track of those who would be too… intrigued by his condition. In 1926, a chance conversation in a bar alerts Hob to the fact that Roderick Burgess has captured another immortal, one that sounds eerily similar to his friend.

Sandman - Dream of the Endless: Stubborn, Prideful, Dear by two_hundred_percent_trash Summary: First, Lucienne was Dream’s raven. Then, she became his librarian. Through it all, she was always by his side. It was always the two of them, together. ~*~ A queerplatonic interpretation/relationship study of Morpheus and Lucienne’s relationship.

Bridgerton - Anthony Bridgerton: Anthony Bridgerton Whumptober 2022 by maisiec33 Summary: Our favourite Viscount is not having a good time.

Sandman - Dream of the Endless: I will find you in your dreams by Salmaka Summary: A story where Dream, confused and weak from his time in isolation doesn't make it back to the Dreaming but ends up in Hob's house instead.

Werewolf by Night - Jack Russell: A Very Warm Emotion by icarus_chained Summary: It was almost laughable, a werewolf left to drown by hunters as a test to see if he was a witch. And badly, with a broken pump and barely half a foot of water. The more time passes, and the colder it gets, the less Jack finds it funny. But hope is at hand. And anger, sometimes, can be a very warm emotion.

Once Upon A Time - August Booth: mess is mine by bewilderedmoth Summary: "August,” he said, eliciting a frown from Lampwick. “It’s not...My name is August.” “Oh.” Because of course he wasn’t Pinocchio anymore. (Lampwick finds August living in a trailer in the woods. The pair haven't seen each other since Pleasure Island but Lampwick is more than willing to help his childhood friend work through some things).

Once Upon A Time - August Booth: puppet strings by bewilderedmoth Summary: Having technically died on more than one occasion now, having finally put all that trauma behind him and settled down in Storybrooke, August had hoped his troubles were long gone. When Gold returns to town in his quest to find the Author, hopes of a trouble free life in the sleepy town crumble away to dust. (A whumpy re-write of August's torture in S4, Ep 16. Set within the 'mess is mine' universe, but not actually canon to that AU)

Ted Lasso - Jamie Tartt: it's such a long road when you go it alone by themightyduck Summary: Jamie goes down hard during the last match of the season and struggles to determine his worth outside football. Ted would like to stop seeing his boys get hurt on the field. Roy seeks to become emotionally well-adjusted and possibly even Jamie's close friend.

Superstore - Jonah Simms: It's all about trust by PicassoPickle Summary: Whoever this guy is to Jonah, it’s very obvious that Jonah wants nothing to do with him.

The Great Fic Rec of 2022

It's that time again, my friends! What is that one fic you read this year that blew your socks off? The one you had to double check you were actually reading for free and had not purchased as a published book. That fic so good you bookmarked it and even thought of sharing it with someone else. The one so good it altered your perspective and shattered your world and you may never be the same again.... We want to hear all about it.

Here are the rules:

Reblog or comment on this post and tell us the title (or a little snippet, if you feel so inclined.)

And that's it. Those are the rules.

Happy Whumping and I hope you had a fabulous 2022!

(2018) (2020) (2021)

[swanslieutenant]

WIPs Name Game

No one tagged me, but I wanted to do this too. 

Rules: I post the names of all the files in my WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

CS stories (not including posted WIPs)

post neverland

nyc serenade spec 

killian character study 

argument

cs movie

frozen arc

lieutenant duckling

post 5.08

atlantis 

6.15 spec

s2 dark one

s4 canon divergence 

Original (I have more original too, but on a diff computer)

from our dark side 

lilly story 

nautical story

[csbb2018] - now an original, but I’ve never gotten around to changing the name cause i haven’t worked too much on it

felony

I think a lot of people have done this already, so idk who hasn’t been tagged already. If you haven’t and want to do it, consider this a tag! 

[cosette141]

My FanFiction Masterlist (multi-fandom) | cosette141

Fic titles will be linked to AO3.

Word count total (all fics): 705, 550 Fandoms I've written for (plus # of stories): (69) Once Upon A Time (Captain Swan) (31) Psych (13) White Collar (3) Chuck (3) Danny Phantom (3) Leverage (12) Pokémon (2) Avatar: the Last Airbender (2) All my stories are rated T or lower, including stories that have whump. I never write anything of that nature that wouldn’t be shown in the show itself. (Stories noted with a * before the title and a + after the word count are currently unfinished and in-progress. Fics highlighted in blue means they're fairly recent.) *I never abandon fics ☺️

-.-.-.-. all fics below the cut! -.-.-.-.

Once Upon A Time (all Captain Swan)

Multi-chapter fics:

*Lost and Found (Begin Again Sequel) - 70k+ (in-progress) (Begin Again sequel) Emma had felt lost nearly her whole life, and Killian had lost everything he’d ever found. That is, until they found each other. With the Crocodile dead and Cora turned good, it seems happy endings have returned. However, new crises arise, threatening the budding family between them and Henry. But this is a family that always finds each other… and they have yet to fail. CS, Anti-Neal

Hell to Pay - 44k (tag to the Underworld arc) We followed Emma's perspective when she found and rescued Killian, but we didn't get to see much of Killian's. This story will follow Killian's perspective from the moment he sacrifices himself to when he is rescued. Slight divergence from canon: when Emma does find Killian, Hades doesn't let her rescue him so easily. CS H/C (lots of whump, but just as much comfort!)

Begin Again - 40k (s2 "Manhattan" divergence) No one breaks a deal with Rumplestiltskin, and Emma finds herself facing the wrath of the Dark One. What if Neal didn't come back for Emma in NYC, but instead, Hook showed up to kill Rumplestiltskin early? No one has ever saved Emma before, and Hook has never been able to save anyone at all. It's time for them both to tell a different story. Together.

Don’t Let Go (Because I Can’t Hold it Back Anymore) - 24k (canon divergence for s4 episode "White Out") Rather than Emma and Elsa trapped in the ice cave, Emma is trapped with Killian. They have to keep warm and stay awake as they fight the frigid cold, or their first quiet moment together may very well be their last. h/c

Dreamshade - 13k (s3A, "Good Form" canon divergence) Instead of David getting hit with the poisoned arrow, it's Hook. Now it's up to David to get Hook to Dead Man's Peak before Dreamshade takes Hook's life, and maybe learn, perhaps too late, that Hook is far more than just a pirate. h/c Captain Charming

How You Remind Me - 14k (S3b, NYC Serenade canon divergence) When Hook tries to convince Emma to drink the memory potion, she takes it and shatters it. Hook has a much, much harder time trying to get Emma’s memories back.

A Gentleman Never Tells - 9k Right after saving Henry in Neverland, Pan puts Emma under a Sleeping Curse that only romantic love can break. Hook's kiss wakes her, but in the confusion of the moment, it appears to everyone else, including Emma, that it was Neal's kiss that woke her. As the group celebrates and Hook empties his flask alone, he can't help thinking it is better this way. **(Will be adding another chapter for a Henry reaction at some point)

Echoes - 5k (tag to Echo Caves scene) "What we have with her is unique. But it's not what I wanted. I want another go at it; I want to have another baby." All Emma's life, she's been haunted by the paralyzing fear of never being wanted. Now, her worst fears have come to light. Emma is breaking, and it's up to Hook to put her pieces back together.

*On the Other Hand - 3k+ (in-progress) (tag to s4 episode "The Apprentice") After two hundred years without a hand, Killian gets it back... and then loses it again in the same day. I felt like we missed out on a lot of the emotional component of this, so this is my attempt to encompass that, as well as make him feel better about it.

*Killian Jones vs. the Modern World - 2k+ A collection of different moments throughout seasons 2-6 of Killian experiencing modern world things. A collection that has obviously been done before, but I just love these so much haha. Most of these will be Captain Swan and I'm sure Captain Charming and Cobra as well!

OUAT Oneshots:

It's Called Trust - 7k (season 2 "Tallahassee" canon divergence) Emma forgets that handcuffs cannot hold a pirate. 

Firsthand - 6k After getting her hand broken in Neverland, Emma is struck with the realization of just how debilitating Hook's life has been since losing his hand. In more ways than just physically.

Moment of Truth - 4k After Killian learns he killed David's father, the secret is eating him alive. So, with a load of courage and even more rum, he brings himself to tell the truth. And he prays he won't lose the love of his life… or his best friend in the process. (S6 canon divergence where Emma doesn't find the ring and doesn't pressure Killian into proposing) for Angsty August 2022, CS, CC, h/c

Lullaby - 3k (True Love story, s3B canon divergence-ish) Emma is cursed with a Wakeful Curse, and needs True Love's Kiss to save her life. When Killian tries, and the kiss doesn't work, all hope seems lost. Or is it?

A Snowball’s Chance - 3k After Emma rescues Killian from Hades in the Underworld, David and Snow tend to some of Killian's physical wounds, and end up healing emotional ones. (aka, Snow and David acting as parental figures for Killian) hurt/comfort oneshot

What’s in A Name - 3k (tag to the CS movie) After rescuing Emma from the castle, David, Snow, Marian and Emma and Killian retire for the night. Except, to the other three, Emma and Killian were still Prince Charles and Princess Leia. So, they decide to fall asleep together to protect their fake story, and maybe find that not all of it was for the cover. CS cuddling

Come Back to Me - 3k (tag to s3B, "Kansas") When Zelena drowned Killian, Emma nearly lost him, and she panicked. So… what if they needed to revisit that moment for information about Zelena… and Killian has the opportunity to see Emma's reaction to his near-death? (shamelessly plotless oneshot for the sake of feelings) h/c, CS

*Untied - 3k+ (s2 divergence) Emma felt the hair on the back of her neck rise with instinct. The darkness of the night didn't help with the ominous feeling. This trailer wasn't here before Tamara showed up to town, and it was a small town. It wasn't from here. Emma picked the padlock, pulled it off, and yanked open the door. And there, tied to a chair, was Hook. CS h/c

Every Part of Me - 3k (tag to s4 "smash the mirror: part 1") Emma's powers are out of control, and her worst fears have been realized: she's hurt Henry. It's Killian's turn to give it a try, and he finds Emma in the woods. He's determined to calm her down and help her embrace who she is, no matter the cost to himself. h/c

The Only One Who Saves Me - 2.5k (CS movie divergence) Killian gets his dashing rescue, and Emma is no longer the only one who saves her.

The Day that it Doesn’t - 2.5k “You and I. We understand each other. Look out for yourself and you never get hurt.” “Worked out quite well for me.” “Yeah, until the day that it doesn’t.” Today, Hook learns, as he steers his ship away from shore with a horrible empty feeling in his chest, is that day. He decides to once and for all give up his crusade in order to be a part of something, and takes a moment to hope that Milah understands.

Take My Hand - 2k They've all hit him with the low blow at some point. Both enemies and friends have threatened either seriously or jokingly to "take the other hand." What they didn't know was that the words affect Killian more than he lets on. Late one night, after yet another dig from one of them, Emma learns just how badly it does. And maybe, how she can fix it.

What Loneliness Sounds Like - 2k After hearing her mother's secret in the Echo Caves, Emma feels more unloved and unwanted than she ever has before. Only to make matters worse, she's in Neverland, land of the lost and abandoned, and she can suddenly hear music playing. (this was an alternate ending for my other fic "Echoes", but it can be read as a standalone)

Fall - 1.5k (Set in S3 in Neverland) In the midst of trying to find Henry, Emma finally falls apart, and Hook holds her together. And suddenly, they're both falling, somewhere they promised themselves they'd never fall again.

As You Wish - 1.5k After Killian gets his heart back, Emma starts acting strange around him, and he finally realizes why. Oneshot (the title's not a princess bride reference! xD)

Operation: Poptarts - 1k Henry was mostly happy that Killian had moved in with him and Emma. His only reservation was that Killian won't stop throwing out his poptarts. S6 Captain Cobra

In Hindsight - 1k (tag to s3 CS movie) "I'm not sure her parents approve of me." "Given the lengths you've gone to save her, they'd be crazy not to." "I hope you remember that." After Killian and Emma's adventure, David does remember the conversation he and Killian had around the fire, and David has something to add to it. CS/Captain Charming

Airport insecurity - 1k (post-wedding) Killian and Emma are going on their honeymoon, and Emma chooses a very special country to spend it. But their trip includes getting through airport security, which poses a bit of an inconvenience for Killian.

The Emma Button - 1k "What is that thing?" "It's a device used for... talking... I don't bloody know. I press the Emma button and she answers usually." My take on why Killian decided to refer to Emma's speed dial as "the Emma button."

Good - 1k (missing scene/tag to "New York City Serenade") A conversation between Emma and Killian about her broken heart. And maybe the hope that it will mend, sooner rather than later.

Psych fics

Multi-chaptered:

Space - 53k Now that Juliet knows Shawn's secret, she tells him she needs space. Unsure of what to do, Shawn decides to find some space for himself. But when Shawn stumbles into trouble and ends up missing, will his friends figure out he's in real trouble before it's too late?

Hero Material - 35k Shawn never had a good relationship with his father, and when he learns the truth about his parents' divorce, Shawn doesn't know what to think of the man anymore. But when Shawn and Henry end up stumbling into real trouble, it's going to take a lot more than forgiveness to save them.

Shawn Walks Into A Bank - 30k Gus was always hounding Shawn for not taking Psych checks to the bank and being "responsible." So it's just Shawn's luck that the one time he goes... so does a crazy gunman.

Oneshots:

Coming Clean - 3k Shawn can't handle lying to her anymore now that they started dating, and he decides to tell her the truth. (alternate way of how Juliet finds out.)

Breaking the Cycle - 3k Henry sighed and looked at his broken-down truck, then to the miles-long stretch of empty road. And then… he looked to the bike. Henry let out another sigh, and with heavy reluctance, muttered, "You said you have two helmets?" - Henry is forced to drive Shawn's motorcycle, and learns a few things from his son for a change.

Saved by the... Bullet? - 2k We all knew it would happen one day. Carlton Lassiter finally shoots Shawn Spencer. (not slash)

Taking Bullets - 2k Gus learns once and for all what lengths Shawn is willing to go to protect his best friend.

Worth Staying For - 2k It's Christmas Eve night and something is bothering Shawn. Juliet is determined to find out just what. Shules. A little fluff and a little emotional h/c all wrapped and tied with a little bow.

The Flip Side of a Penny - 1.6k In "The Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable," Uncle Jack left Shawn for dead without a second thought. "I can see now why Uncle Jack wasn't probably the best role model," Shawn had told Henry. "Why didn't you ever tell me when I was a kid?" Just a flashback to Shawn's childhood, touching on why Henry never did.

Shots - 1k Tag to "Juliet Takes a Luvvah", where Maddie comes back into town to stay with Henry after he was shot, and where Shawn unfortunately walks in on them. Henry has a feeling that Shawn isn't quite okay after what happened, and he isn't, but not for the reason Henry thinks.

Prodigal Son - 1k (Flashback oneshot) Karen Vick has heard plenty of amazing things about her new partner's son, Henry Spencer's prodigy-in-the-making. But when she finally meets 11-year-old Shawn Spencer, he isn't at all what she expected.

Fresh Air - 1k A beautiful moment between father and son over a fishing trip. Beautiful, terrible, I've heard it both ways.

Sentiments, Semantics, He Would Have Heard It Both Ways - 1k Shawn Spencer is dead, and someone is taking the news harder than they ever could have expected. (Shawn/Desperaux friendship) deathfic

Leverage Fics

Multi-chaptered:

Hanging Out - 27k While Eliot and Hardison are on a job in the woods, Eliot gets badly injured. Now with bad guys on their tail, Hardison needs to step up, or they're both as good as dead. Damn, Hardison hated outside. Hardison/Eliot brotherly friendship. h/c Eliot whump

The Longer Way Down Job - 15k On the way down the mountain in The Long Way Down Job, Eliot and Parker don't make it down so easily. When an avalanche strands them far from help, Eliot and Parker have to keep warm and stay awake. But even the ones who do what the others can't... can't last the frigid cold forever. Eliot/Parker sibling friendship. h/c

Sometimes Bad Guys... - 11k On a brisk night in Amsterdam ten years before the Leverage crew formed, Eliot Spencer - freshly ex-right hand man of Damien Moreau - stumbles into helping an injured thief. But quickly he wonders who really saved whom. (Past Eliot and Parker AU)

Oneshots:

The Count On Me Job - 5k The gun fired. Shock stopped Eliot's heart as the bullet whizzed half an inch over his shoulder. "You missed." Eliot drawled with a grin. The mark, however, was smiling too. Eliot's grin faltered. The mark smirked and said, "Did I, though?" Eliot turned to see Parker standing behind him with her hand to her shoulder, crimson slowly seeping under her fingers. 

The Carsequences Job - 3.5k Parker’s crazy driving finally gets the best of her when she decides to go for a dangerous joyride in the middle of a torrential rainstorm. But what could make that worse? Oh, right. She decided to take Eliot’s car. Parker h/c

It's the Thought That Counts - 1.6k When Eliot gets hurt and can't cook Thanksgiving dinner, the team gives cooking a try. It's the thought that counts, right?

A Different Kind of Feeling - 1k A night off, an ice cold beer, and a game on TV... nothing could ruin Eliot's moment. That is, until Parker appears with something to tell him. Eliot/Parker (sibling-like pairing, not romance!)

Under the Surface - 1k In the episode "The Big Bang Job," Hardison almost drowned and Eliot didn't go in after him. I felt like Hardison needed an explanation from the hitter and our boys needed a serious bonding moment. Here's my take on how that could have gone.

The Mother's Day Job - 1k Parker shows Sophie some appreciation on Mother’s Day, in a very Parker way.

Sparky - 1k Parker gave Eliot the nickname "Sparky" a long time ago. And tonight he finally learns why.

The New Territory Job - 1k During a job, Hardison gets hurt after taking a step out from behind the safety of his computer screen. But he quickly finds that the blow to his pride stings far worse than the one he took to the head.

No Stabbing Wednesdays - 1k When Hardison enacted the "No Stabbing Wednesday" tradition, he wasn't expecting it to be a problem during a job that required a certain thief to stab something.

White Collar fics

Multi-chaptered:

*As the Smoke Clears - 65k+ (in-progress) (spoiler alert for season 1 and beginning of season 2!) After the plane explodes, we see Neal fall apart and Peter hold him back, then two months go by unseen. Here are the events that took place after the explosion. H/C (on hiatus as of 12/05/21. I do plan to be back to this one when I get back into WC!)

Taking Trust Into Account - 49k When a five-year-old crime becomes Neal and Peter's new case, Neal's past catches up with him; not only had he been involved in the crime, the criminal he framed for it has a grudge. Can Peter connect the dots before Neal's consequences cost him his life?

Cat's Game - 15k Peter chased Neal for two years before he arrested him. But just because Peter didn't catch him for two years doesn't mean he didn't get close. One night in a museum outside of the city, Peter and Neal nearly find an end to their long-time game of cat and mouse... and their lives. (Past Neal & Peter story) No slash

Chuck fics:

Multi-chaptered:

Chuck vs. the Bullet - 26k What's worse than being shot? Being shot, and needing to hide it from an overprotective sister who also happens to be a doctor. Chuck gets shot by a Fulcrum agent, and to protect his cover, needs to hide that fact from Ellie... which is easier said than done. Especially since she's not about to let him get away with it... and neither is Fulcrum. hurt/comfort (Ellie finds out story)

*Ellie vs the Truth - 3k+ (in-progress oneshot collection) After Ellie learns Chuck's secret, there are many other secrets she begins to learn, and Ellie starts to piece together all the events that didn't quite make sense after Chuck met Sarah. (A collection of oneshots where Ellie finds out about things Chuck had to keep secret from her)

You Might Find A Better Place to Play - 1.6k Bryce comes back to help with another mission, and the last night before he leaves LA, both he and Chuck suddenly aren't answering their phones or comms. Sarah tracks Chuck's watch to Castle, but when she gets there, all she hears is gunfire. Oneshot

Danny Phantom fics:

Multi-chaptered:

To Be A Hero - 22k Danny has always known the consequences should he be captured by the Guys In White, but now Tucker is going to learn firsthand just what the stakes are for his superhero friend and what it really means to be a hero. (not slash) h/c

Oneshots:

Going Ghost - 4k My take on the moment Danny turns on the ghost portal and becomes half-ghost… as well as an alternate way for Sam and Tucker to find out. Friendship

The Other Half of a Hero - 1.6k Three weeks after the accident, a fight with Skulker leaves Danny with his first major injury. Sam and Tucker begin to realize the full extent of Danny's new life. h/c

Avatar: the Last Airbender fics:

Multi-chaptered:

*Hello, Zuko Here - 19k+ (in-progress) What if when Zuko was rejected by the Gaang in the Western Air Temple, Zuko didn't accidentally burn Toph when she found him? This is a slightly altered way of Zuko joining the group, and his struggle to both gain their trust and begin to feel he deserves it when he does. Book 3 seemed to fly through the emotions and character stuff, so here's my attempt to slow 'em down.

Oneshots:

Here - 1k After Zuko joins the Gaang, he realizes he's finally found a place where he belongs.

Pokémon fics:

Multi-chaptered:

Jump and Fall - 13k (Contestshipping fic) May saved Drew’s life on Mirage Island, and Drew doesn’t like owing debts. So when May ends up getting lost and hurt before a Contest, Drew has the chance to pay back the favor. And maybe find that some things are more important than ribbons.

Oneshots:

What Matters Most - 6k It's Ash's first chance to win a League championship, but when it comes to the final match, Pikachu is feeling worse and worse. Oneshot. Friendship. Ash & Pikachu

[eirabach]

Tall Tales [1/1]

A revenge obsessed pirate is visited by three ghosts one Christmas Eve. Well, sort of. Maybe it isn’t Christmas Eve. Maybe they aren’t ghosts. Artistic license, he supposes.

3.5k. Rated T. Canon Divergent from S2, sort of.

For my most beloved @katie-dub , hi! I’m your CS Writer’s Hub Secret Santa! A weird little Christmas Carol AU for you with all the love and best wishes for you and yours. You’ve been an incredible pal over the last year or so, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life - can’t wait for playdates with the hub babies!

xoxoxo Clare <3i

 ——

 Tell me a story, she says.

 Well, all right.

 —-

 He may as well be dead, to begin with.

The bean lies heavy in his pocket, the rum thick on his tongue. The Saviour (and what a name that is, what a name for what a woman) and her associates have run off to save the town, the realm, whatever. By now they’ll have realised what he’s done, what they’re missing, but that’s none of his concern now.

 The only thing he’s interested in saving is the rest of this rum bottle from Leroy’s less than discerning palette.

“Killian?”

 Her voice is just as he remembers. Soft and yet somehow sharp as a blade, sharp as the point of his hook as he presses it into the old woman’s countertop.

 “Killian?”

 He shakes his head and laughs. It’s a shirt, nasty little thing and he can almost see the way her lips would twist down when she heard it. The way she’d roll her eyes at his dramatics, Killian, really?

 “You won’t look at me then?”

 “I can’t look at you,” he tells the rum. “You’re in my head. Dead. As a doornail. And I’m talking to myself, which means I’ve either had far too much or far too little of this.” He eyes the glass critically and takes another long swig. “I’ll err on the side of caution.”

 “Am I truly gone?” she says. “Are you sure?”

 He looks up.

 There, between the bottles and the chalkboard menus, he sees her reflected in the mirrored walls. The curve of her cheek in the steel of the machinery, the shock of her curls against the glass fronted doors.

 “Milah?”

 She smiles.

 —-

 “Don’t turn around.”

 He gapes, his fingers trembling against the rum glass, but he obeys her even as his body stiffens as her cold breath skins across his neck.

 “How,” he asks, and he hardly knows what he’s asking. How do the dead breathe? How does she come to him?

 How does he sit so still when his heart is ready to pound from his chest?

 “I can��t say,” she whispers, and he shivers to hear it. “It’s not for the ears of mortals, but Killian, I must tell you this. Your revenge, that bean in your pocket, you must give them up. Truly. Completely. Only then will you be happy.”

 He scoffs, rum burning the back of his nose.

 “Not likely.” he spits. “I’ve spent hundreds of years… lifetimes…. waiting for the chance to avenge you. No mere hallucination will convince me otherwise!”

 “Perhaps,” she admits, but there’s that steel in her tone again, that bite that he’d worried he might have forgotten somewhere between Neverland and a never ending flask of rum and it makes him sigh, his shoulders dipping. “But I’ve been given this chance, Killian. To warn you. And if you won’t listen to me…”

 There’s a flash of cold light, a terrible high pitched grinding sound, and then -

 She’s gone.

 “I never listened to anyone else,” he tells his empty glass, and pours another.

 —-

 It grows dark, but not in the way he’s become used to in this realm. The darkness seems to ooze out of the forests and up from the drains, creeping towards the diner until it’s tendrils catch at the end of his captain’s coat and wind their way up him until only his hand is still bathed in light. The rum sparkling at his fingertips.

 It isn’t the rum.

 “Tink?” He squints myopically at the tiny creature. “I didn’t know you did that - not - not anymore.” His lip curls, and the fairy’s light shines a little brighter, her tiny eyes narrowing. “It could have been rather… entertaining - Oi!”

 He shakes his hand, hissing under his breath at the red mark her magic has left behind. The fairy laughs - a bright, tinkling thing that shouldn’t sound as malicious as it does - as he sucks at the burn.

 “All right, all right,” he grumbles as she clutches at her stomach, her shoulders shaking. “How the devil did you get here, and more importantly are you aware it’s time to get out?” He leans in a little conspiratorially and she stops laughing to turn her face up to his. “Come with me,” he whispers. “It’ll be like the good old days.”

 She rolls her eyes rather extravagantly and puts her hands on her hips.

 “No?” he shrugs, and goes to lift the rum back to his lips. “Suit yourself. But if you’re planning on playing the hero round here be warned, it seems to end badly.”

 The fairy sighs, fluttering her wings until she’s perched on the edge of his glass and lets out a series of high pitched squeaks that almost sound like words. Disappointed words, probably, going by the way she wags her finger at him as she speaks.

 The more things change, he supposes.

 “Nope,” he says, leaning back on his stool and folding his arms. “Afraid you’ve entirely lost me there, Lady Bell. I do like the new look though, terribly clever of you. Terribly portable.”

 He winks sloppily, the rum making his eyes dip, and Tink moves to hover just at the end of his nose until he has to be practically cross eyed to focus on the way her lips form a pout.

 “Always judging, fairies,” he mutters. “But if you insist, love.”

 She drops the smallest of kisses to the tip of his nose, and he is engulfed.

 ----

 “What the bloody hell was that?”

 He staggers to his feet as best he can, the ground shifting strangely beneath him as Tink laughs in his ear. Sand. He’s on sand. The soft grains sinking under his weight as the tide presses in closer. He grumbles as he straightens up, stomping away from the water’s edge, and then pauses, frozen, silent, as he hears a high-pitched cry carried on the wind.

 “Li-aaaaaam! Mam! MAM!”

 “No,” he mutters it. A plea. “No, no, no.”

 Tink glows, but the voice still continues to grow louder, more insistent.

 “Mam I found it look! MAM!”

 “Take me back,” he hisses, snatching Tink from midair and barely resisting the urge to shake her. “Take me back this instant do you hear me?”

 Tink makes a series of indignant squarks and manages to wriggle free of his grasp, pointing furiously in the direction of the voice.

 “Oh no,” he says, shaking his finger at her. “Not a chance, you can’t make me, I wo -”

 The force with which she whips his head around is really quite impressive for such a small creature, he’ll give her that.

 Perhaps fifty yards away along the shoreline is a small boy with wild, dark hair and short trousers that barely skim skinny knees. In his hands he holds a small piece of emerald sea glass, and he’s examining the way the light reflects from it and sends rainbows skittering over his palms.

 Killian can’t see that of course, not from so far away, but he knows it to be true nonetheless. Just as he knows that the older child and the woman will be along momentarily - and no sooner has he thought as much but they appear, the boy holding his mother’s elbow as she walks unsteadily over the sands.

 Tink makes a questioning sort of sound. Killian shrugs, but his eyes are fixed on their approach.

 “She was the first person I loved and lost. Rather started a trend, that.”

 “Look Mam! I found treasure! I told you I would and now we can sell it and pay the apothecary and Papa will come back home I told you I would!”

 Even from here Killian can see the way Liam moves to dissuade him of the notion - of the nonsense - it’s not treasure, only another man’s rubbish washed up is all. Liam would have known that, straightforward, sensible Liam. He would have known even at eight that their mother’s cough wouldn’t be healed by any means Killian had at his disposal.

 Liam knew. Liam had always known. But Killian hadn’t.

 Killian had thought he’d saved her.

 She smiles, and thanks to the centuries of remove between this time and that he can see the way she strains to do so, the way she sways as Liam lets go of her arm.

 “My good boy,” she laughs, and runs her hands through the unruly hair of his childhood self. “My hero.”

 Little Killian beams up at her, growing half a head taller from sheer pride.

 “I’ve seen enough, sprite,” the grown version growls as he turns his back on the little doomed tableau. “Take me back.”

 He feels the fairy’s disappointed exhale as soft as gossamer on his cheek as the world fades from view.

 ---

 He lifts his head from the counter with a groan and blinks blearily into the dark diner.

 “Tink?” he asks, his voice gravelly. “What’s - Tink?”

 There’s another light, higher and brighter, approaching him from the back of the room.

 “How in the name of the gods did you do that?”

 “I didn’t do anything.”

 Killian starts, his hand twitching towards his cutlass, as the insufferable prince appears before him crowned with candlelight and wearing a robe far more suited to his life back home than whatever pathetic facsimile he’d been living here.

 “Believe me,” says David, his face crumpled in distaste beneath his glowing headdress, “I wouldn’t have bothered showing you such a pleasant memory.”

 “You may have celebrated your mother’s death, princeling, but I assure you there was nothing remotely -”

 Killian coughs sharply as David’s hand closes around his throat.

 “All right, all right,” he wheezes as the prince tightens his grip. “You’ve made your point, as I have made mine -”

 He swings his arm back and buries his hook deep in the other man’s belly, but David’s grip doesn’t falter, his eyebrows only raising slightly as Killian looks down, his expression dropping into disbelief at the way his hook passes through the prince as though he’s made of little more than sea fret..

 “Nice try,” says David. “Now, shall we have a chat?”

 ---

 David leads him through the black, abandoned streets of Storybrooke, but where the figment - for a figment he must be - floats above the gloom Killian drags himself through it, the night thick as tar around his ankles as he struggles to keep up.

 “Come on,” David calls without turning around. “We don’t have all night you know.”

 “All night for what, exactly,” Killian shouts after him. “And what on Earth are you wearing?”

 “Don’t ask me this is your hallucination,” says David with no little bitterness.

 “So it is a hallucination then?” Killian asks, pausing to catch his breath. “Am I mad?”

 “That’s a matter of opinion,” says David. “But no, not as such. It’s a lesson.”

 “A lesson?” Killian snorts.”I’m no schoolboy, prince.”

 “No,” says David, and he turns now, his face bathed in light. It’s somehow unnatural in the pervasive gloom. Unsettling. “You’re not. You’re a villain.”

 “Says the man with a candelabra on his head. You’ll excuse me if I don’t give your opinion too much weight, won't you.”

 “Do you think this is a joke?” David’s face creases in displeasure. “My family face destruction!”

 “It’s very sad,” drawls Killian. “Not quite my problem though is it.”

 “Isn’t it?” asks David, and their surroundings shimmer and change until they are immersed in the gloom of the mine workings.

 The light here takes on an eerie quality. A cold, purple hued thing that reflects from the damp walls and casts shadows under David’s eyes.

 “Watch,” he says.

 “Watch what, exactly?”

 David shakes his head and half smiles, his eyes downcast.

 “Even now you can’t see what you do, can you? So wrapped up in yourself. Look.”

 He does, half against his will, truth be told, but the prince seems to have far more control on whatever surrealist world they find themselves in than Killian himself does.

 The Queen seems frozen in place, the light emanating from white, clawed hands that Killian is sure ought to be shaking. Arranged around her like so many statues are the townsfolk, each frozen in their own personal terror. The dwarfs are shrieking, he assumes, their mouths wide and their axes held high. Snow White stands before him, her chin high and her eyes sparking, but her hands are empty and even in her stillness he can tell that her defiance is a hollow, helpless sort of thing.

 David - the original David, he presumes, since he’s attired in a law keepers uniform - stands at her shoulder. Killian’s companion eyes him critically.

 “Two of you,” Killian says with a slightly lavicious curl of his lip as David flicks at a piece of his doppelganger’s mussed hair. “My mind is a truly strange place indeed.”

 “Very funny,” growls David, “is there anyone you won’t creep on?”

 But Killian isn’t listening.

 Swan.

 She’s standing, staring unseeing, in the gloom at the edges of the mine. Her hair has curled in the damp and is sticking to her forehead, her jaw tight.

 “They’re all going to die, you know.”

 Killian grunts in reply. The back of his neck itches as he examines the lines between Swan’s brows, the pale impression left on her lip by her teeth.

 “And why should I care about that?”

 “Do you think you’re fooling anyone?” asks David, and he almost sounds pitying. “Look at you, you can’t even fool yourself.”

 Swan just stares. Accusatory as usual. It almost makes him smile.

 It’s hard to imagine anyone as fierce natured as Swan doing something as banal as dying.

 Killian sighs, and tucks his hand behind his back before the itch moves to make his fingers reach for her hair.

 David watches them, and for a moment his eyes turn soft.

 “You can change that,” he says. “You should change that. You could change that. But if you continue the way you are… they’ll all die.”

 Killian looks up at him, a retort already on the tip of his tongue (he has never been able to change anything, his life is one of flotsam, they wouldn’t want him to save them, not him) but David is growing translucent, disappearing into the glow of his own candlelight until her fades into nothing but ether.

 “Even her?” Killian asks.

 But the ether doesn’t answer.

 ---

 He wakes, if indeed that’s what it is, back in the diner but it’s not quite as he left it. Little pieces of the counter remain stuck to his cheek as he lifts his head, and the stool creaks, rusty and struggling, beneath his weight.

 “Bloody hell.”

 The walls are scorched black and crumbling, the menu boards overridden by twisting vines of dead and decaying fruit, and the air holds that sour, sick smell he recognises only too well from too long voyages with not enough water.

 This is a dead place.

 And in the middle of it, golden and shining in a hooded robe, stands Emma.

 He is a dead man.

 “Swan? What happened here?”

 She smiles, beatific and snide and nowhere near her eyes, and shrugs one slim shoulder.

 “Isn’t it obvious?”

 “Hardly, love.” He stands, more unsteady than he should be, and reaches for the edge of her cloak. “This isn’t your usual attire.”

 “Things have changed,” she says, “or will do. It’s up to you really.”

 “What is?” he asks, tugging lightly at the cloak. The cloak tugs back. “What the -“

 Emma shifts her weight and her cloak falls away to reveal a boy, her boy, the boy, his cheeks hollow and his eyes shadowed dark. The darkness seems to twist, pulling at his features and curling his hair until it isn’t Swan’s lad at all, but Bae. Bae clawing at her cloak and watching with baleful eyes as Killian sways on the spot. Bae whose lips curl into a sneer as he makes to fall.

 And then the darkness breathes, and it’s Henry who turns his face into his mother’s belly.

 “Why,” says Emma. “I thought everyone wanted a happy ending.”

 He laughs, a short sharp bark that escapes him without his meaning to, and curls his fingers around her elbow to steady himself.

 “What lunatic’s happy ending is this?”

 She smiles again, her hand coming up to cover his, and for a single moment he feels warm. It’s odd. He hadn’t known he was cold.

 “Yours, of course.”

 The diner begins to crumble around them until it’s nothing but dust, just a grey haze that rises up and envelops them and sticks in his throat.

 It tastes like magic, he thinks. Bitter.

 And then it clears, and it’s bile.

 It the ruins of what once was Storybrooke stands what was once a man. His hair is slicked forward over his pale face, and his shoulders stoop under the weight of the burden he carries. His left hand is a familiar curve of steel, and in his right -

 “No.” Killian shakes his head, scrubs at his eyes, but the other man, the creature, only smiles a thin, crocodile’s smile and lifts the dagger toward him.

 Killian Jones.

 “Why hasn’t anyone stopped him?” he half whispers. “Why haven’t you?”

 “There isn’t anyone,” says the boy who could be, isn’t, is, Bae. “No one left to care. Not for men like you. This is where you end up. Where we all end up.”

 “Welcome to your happily ever after,” says Swan, and there’s a line, a thin, red line, that marrs her throat. It drips when she inclined her head, her eyes flashing. “Hope it’s worth it.”

 This time when he wakes up, he’s screaming.

 —-

 It takes a moment, several actually if he’s being honest, before he can gather himself enough to be certain that he’s truly awake including both the judicial application of the tip of his hook to the palm of his hand and a long swig from a flagon of water. He eyes the rum bottle suspiciously before gingerly lifting it between finger and thumb.

 “What in all the realms does she put in this? Laudanum?”

 Nobody answers him, of course. He’d rather forgotten they were in the midst of a crisis.

 He slips his hand back into his pocket and runs his fingers over the smooth edges of the bean. It would be easy, he thinks. Run back to… well, anywhere really. No one would live to find him, and his vengeance would be if not complete, at least somewhat satiated. And he’d never have to risk seeing David in that ridiculous get up again.

 The ground rocks beneath his feet, the Queen’s Work, he presumes, and he clutches the bean a little tighter.

 Be part of something.

 My good boy. My hero.

 You’re a villain.

 Bae.

 Swan. Swan and her sardonic little smiles. The incline of her head. The obnoxious habit she has of making him want to do better.

 The diner shudders once more, and he chooses.

 What sort of man do you want to be?

 (It’s such a little thing, in the end. Choice.)

 He turns on his heel and leaves the bottle behind.

 ---

 What are you telling her now?

 Only stories, my love.

 That’s not very comforting you know. I’ve heard your stories.

 How rude, Swan. I assure you the moral of this tale is impeccable.

 Yeah right. I’ve heard that before.

 (Is it true, Papa? The story?

 Of course my little love. Aren’t they all.)

[seastarved]

So, for the CS Summer Rewatch, does anyone have any suggestions for dates and what kind of timeline we’d be looking at?

Because I figure we could do all the episodes starting from S2 that had CS in them and I was thinking like maybe 2 episodes a week so that we have time to do fun stuff and as @katie-dub suggested, to have like maybe prompts for Missing Scenes and Canon Divergences per episode.

That would also allow us to like work around people’s schedules but would also get this thing to last way longer than 3 months lol

I was thinking we start in May.

So yeah, lmk what you guys think? Reply away or just drop me a message :)

(Also I’m tagging with #cssummerrewatch for all future posts on this!)

[chaoticgriffins]

Captain Swan fanfic list

Whilst I am fairly new to this beautiful fandom and ship, as I just started watching in August, I have spent a shameful amount of time since then reading as much of the delightful fanfiction this world has to offer (there are some extremely talented writers obsessed with this show, we are blessed) and as such, I want to keep my favorites all in one place, as well as recommend these to anyone interested. I know most of these have been featured on many a list but alas, I feel they deserve all the recognition they can get. 

I still have a very large bookmark folder of reading to go, so I may add to this. Also if anyone wants to recommend anything to me that’s not listed, that’d be fab

*Added to list 11/17/17

**Added to list 12/09/17

***Added to list 3/07/18

-- AU/CANON-DIVERGENCE MULTI-CHAPTER  --

Walking on Water by Ms Starlight (Rated M)-  Princess!Emma meets our beloved pirate Captain Killian Jones when his crew abducts her off one of her kingdom’s ships, interrupting her journey home from a diplomatic mission after attempting to seek aid for her kingdom during the Ogre Wars. Beautiful characterization, very interesting twists and manipulations on canon plot lines. This one is definitely a favorite. 

Something like you love me by killians-dimples (Rated T) - Friends to Lovers  (because apparently I am absolute trash for this trope) and Fake!Dating. Emma and Killian have been best friends since college, and when Mary Margaret just doesn’t know when to quit pushing her towards Walsh, Killian offers to pretend to be her boyfriend for a trip home to get her mom off her back. Beautiful and heartbreaking at times, loved it.

Walking in a Straight Line by msgenevieve447 (Rated M) - Another Friends to Lovers.Emma and Killian share a few drinks and a kiss, but only one of them remembers. VERY well written, fun to read, and I loved her characterizations. Plus Killian is a lawyer, which suits him so well for some reason. A personal favorite. (Prequel and Sequel one-shots below!)

The Darling Affair by Ice_Cube44 (Rated T) - I LOVED this one. Devoured it in one sitting. Killian is ex-military and his path crosses SocialWorker!Emma’s when one of her charges is kidnapped by the Gold family, the very same Killian’s been trying to track down for years. The story is so compelling, the characterization is awesome (especially Killian, I don’t know why but I am borderline obsessed with this version), PLUS there’s Liam, so you get all the Brothers Jones glory. (Prequel one-shots linked below) 

Crimson by qqueenofhades (Rated M) - Professor!Killian meets Emma when she starts taking his class. This one is a long, mysterious, awesome ride. A fascinating twist to the canon curse and our beloved pirate and wonderful writing and storytelling.

One Against the Wind by 4getfulimaginator (Rated T) - Set in the 1700′s, Emma is shipwrecked with a friend when they are rescued and brought aboard the Jolly Roger. This is a beautiful story, and one of the few that features awesome original characters. Heartbreaking and just wonderful.

Land Next to Me by swans-and-pirates (Rated T) - LieutenantDuckling. King’s Navy Hero Killian Jones meets Princess!Emma aboard the luxury spaceliner The Swan. When the unthinkable happens and they are forced to abandon ship, they end up stuck together on a mysterious planet. A sweet and compelling story with an awesome twist.

The Lost Boys by niniadepapa (Rated M) - Rockstar!Killian meets Actress!Emma. Their agents convince them to fake a relationship for the sake of their reputations. So much fun to read, and the cast of side characters are almost as fabulous as our dynamic duo. 

Second Star to the Right by Rhianna-Aurora (Rated M) - Canon Divergence, Emma doesn’t leave Killian at the top of the beanstalk and lets him come back to Storybrooke. Well-written and lovely read. 

Under the Horizon by romancered (Rated T) - Emma falls through a portal in Neverland and ends up three hundred years in the past, on the deck of the Jolly Roger, under the watch of a newly minted and grieving Captain Hook. 

To The End by StrawberryFields4ever (Rated T) - The adventure through Neverland to find Henry takes a fascinating turn. Emma falls into an Alternate Cursed version of Storybrooke while Killian, Mary Margaret, David, Regina, and Rumple try to find Emma and Henry in Neverland. 

Call it Love by Montana-Rosalie (Rated T) - Lieutenant Duckling. Princess!Emma and Killian are friends as children, before life drags them apart and brings them back together. ALL of Montana-Rosalie’s stories are worth reading, really. This one is sweet and sad at times, but a wonderful story.

All We’d Ever Need by Montana-Rosalie (Rated T) - Ballerina!Emma and Pianist!Killian are best friends, and find their lives crumbling on the same night. Fluffy, sweet, and angsty, but really beautifully written. Plus daddy!Killian always.

Written in the Stars by Montana-Rosalie (Rated T) -Last one, these three were my favorites of hers, but again, read all of them. Princess!Emma meets Blacksmith!Killian, and decides to fight for her true love. Angst abounds, but it’s so worth it in the end. Love love love. 

The Path That Moonbeams Make by KnifeEdge (Rated T) - S2 Canon Divergence. Everyone’s favorite pirate climbs through Emma’s window after midnight, but not for the reasons you might think. Beautifully written. 

The Secret of Drowning by momothelemur (Rated T) - S2 Canon Divergence. Emma and Killian fall through the portal and end up where they least expect. They have to learn to trust each other as they go on a wild journey through the realms to try and get home to Storybrooke. 

* Incarcerus by qqueenofhades (Rated M) - Emma and Killian are vampires. I did not expect to love this one as much as I did, but it was so so fantastic. Their relationship is so unexpectedly sweet, and I loved the side characters just as much as I did CS. The story line is so well thought out and intriguing. 

*The Lightbearers by qqueenofhades (Rated M) - This one made me so emotional so many times. Steampunk AU, Emma is a bounty hunter sent after the infamous sky pirate Killian Jones. There are so many twists and turns to this story, and I’m so in love with this author’s Will Scarlet.

*The Reason by xHookedonKillianx (Rated M) - Another friends to lovers and secret dating fic, this is one of my new favorites of that trope. The progression of their relationship is endearing and heartbreaking at times, and I love when a fic can make me love the relationships between the side characters as I am with CS. Bonus Liam Jones, whom I love dearly. 

*Lethologica by lifeinahole (Rated M) - Friends to Lovers/Secret Dating. Looooved this one. Chef!Killian and Emma is in the military. So sweet and fun to read, and the twist towards the end made me emotional. 

**Warm Nights and Firelight by Oubliette14 (Rated M) - Emma runs away from a messy breakup straight back home to her parents’ horse ranch. There she meets Killian, who works as a ranch hand for her father. This one is so loving and beautiful. 

**The Trouble with Faking It by nowforruin (Rated M) - Killian is a Hollywood actor one mistake away from blowing his career. Emma is the down on her luck bail bonds woman that KJ’s manager finds, and makes her an offer she can’t refuse. FakeDating! but so sooo fantastically raw and heartbreaking. 

**Wait For the Moonrise by lifeinahole (Rated E) - Enchanted Forest/Storybrooke AU with LieutenantDuckling. On the day Killian intends to propose to Princess!Emma, she disappears, swept up in a curse. He’ll do anything to find her. 

**To Every Thing a Season by Ice_Cube44 (Rated T) - I’ve been waiting for this one to be finished for awhile and pounced the second it was done. Killian is a scientist at Storybrooke University, trying to crack the code to travel back in time to save Liam from being murdered. Emma’s his lab assistant who didn’t quite know what she was getting into. I knew I’d love this because I loved The Darling Affair, and it definitely didn’t disappoint. A wonderful knot of fluff and angst with a beautiful ending. 

***Guilty, Your Honor by shipping-goggles (Rated M) - Emma starts a new job at a law firm and realizes her one-time thing from the night before has already come back to haunt her. The journey from horribly awkward to friends to lovers is a lovely thing. 

***Headlights Fading by EvilIsntBorn337 (Rated K+) - When Emma Swan breaks down in the middle of nowhere, Maine, she finds help in the most unlikely of places, and by the time her car is ready to go, she has to decide if she is. Beautiful and sweet AU.

***If the Stars Align by twistedroses (Rated M) - This is a story world I loved and wasn’t quite ready for it to end. Emma is the Queen of France, and Killian is a loyal Musketeer who’d do anything for his queen. The stakes are high and angst abounds in this beautiful, unique twist on CS.

***Tripping Over the Blue Line by WelpThisIsHappening (Rated M) - Hockey AU. Killian is the Captain of the New York Rangers and Emma is the new Community Relations rep. Both of them have big plans and weren’t quite counting on the other to come along and change them. This is such a fun, wonderful world to spend time in even if you aren’t a sports fan (I’m not, but I still loved every minute of this fic) and I love her characterizations of Emma, Killian, and the whole crew. 

***The PyeongChang Triple by WelpThisIsHappening  (Rated M) - The fun continues in the Olympics sequel to Blue Line. 

***Out of the Frying Pan by WelpThisIsHappening (Rated M) - Celebrity Cooking AU. Emma’s trying to save her time slot for her show, and Killian wants to expand his restaurant - both of them need to win the All-Stars competition. Another fun story with completely immersive writing and a huge, lovable community. 

***You Play Ball Like a Girl by WelpThisIsHappening (Rated M) - Emma has plans to take New York sports journalism by storm, so when she starts to fall for her editor, she realizes she’s got a big problem. This one is a little more angsty than her other stories, but I loved it all the same.

***Light of All Lights by Ripplestitchskein (Rated E) - Dark Swan and Deckhand Killian AU. While the depiction of Killian as weak and fearful is hard to swallow at first, this story has an awesome depiction of Emma as the Dark One, and Killian’s growth is really beautiful by the end. Rated E for a reason, folks, but the story and characterizations are fascinating.

(Now I have a hard and fast rule not to read fics that aren’t complete, as I have mourned the loss of too many abandoned fics, but this one and the next sort of snuck up on me, and I’m recommending them because they are absolutely worth reading despite being unfinished. (They are, however, still being updated and haven’t been abandoned, so I eagerly await the endings.)

***Beyond the Horizon by AlexandraLyman (Rated M) -WIP- Princess Emma’s ship is attacked by pirates, and Captain Jones brings her aboard. Slowly but surely, they fall in love, and Killian finds a bit of the good man inside that he lost along the way while he helps Emma reunite with her parents and save her kingdom. BEAUTIFUL writing. Really, all I can talk about is how gorgeous this one is.

***Alone, Until I Get Home by phthalo (Rated M) -WIP- S3 Canon-Divergence, where Emma stays in New York after the curse for seven years instead of one. Henry and his little brother Ian find the story book in Emma’s bug, and just like that, he remembers everything and leads his family back to Storybrooke. I’m a sucker for 3B pining and this one delivers. Ian is, quite possibly, my absolute favorite OC and I love this story so much.

-- ONE-SHOTS/SHORT MULTI-CHAPTER --

Round and Round by killians-dimples (Rated T) - Enchanted Forest. Princess!Emma and Killian are best friends, and Emma is trying to pretend that’s all she feels for him. So sweet, but also dark - warnings for assault - but definitely a good read. 

Lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor  by killians-dimples (Rated M) - Friends to lovers, of course. Emma and Killian knew each other in school before she moved to a new foster home. They meet again as neighbors, and find their friendship evolving into something quite different. 

Lonely Hearts Club by niniadepapa (Rated T) - A cute one-shot where Killian starts exchanging notes on a table at Granny’s with a mysterious woman, only to be thrown for a loop when he finds out who it is. 

Heart’s a Mess by niniadepapa (Rated M) - Killian meets Emma when she becomes Milah’s new roommate. This one hurts, but in the best way.

Clouds in My Coffee by msgenevieve447 (Rated M) - One-Shot Sequel to Walking in a Straight Line. Fluffy sweetness.

Serendipity (or something like it) by msgenevieve447 (Rated K) - One-Shot prequel to Walking in a Straight Line, when Emma and Killian meet for the first time. 

Freaky Friday by msgenevieve447 (Rated M) - another one, yes, just read everything she writes. Emma and Killian are accidentally put together in the same hotel room as roommates for a business convention. 

the daylight seems so far away by VickyVicarious (Rated T) - Everyone has a tattoo on their wrist that tells them the age their soulmate will be when they finally meet. Emma thinks she’s broken, as her wrist says 232. 

Bad Form by VickyVicarious (Rated T) - Lieutenant!Killian meets Thief!Emma one night by the docks. One-Shot.

Bag Over Head, Held at Gunpoint, Outnumbered, Drugged, Guilt, Grief, Panic Attack by icecubelotr44 - a collection of one-shots set in The Darling Affair universe. Mostly set before, and mostly Brothers Jones, but reading these is what made me want to read The Darling Affair, so definitely worth a read.   

Theoretically by wtvoc (Rated E) - Friends to Lovers. Witty and unexpectedly sweet. Explicit for a reason BUT it has a really good story in between the smutty fun. 

Oh, Brother... by the-captains-ayebrows (Rated T) - Fake!Dating with a twist - Liam and Emma are roommates, and Emma offers to pretend to be his girlfriend when his brother comes to town...but things quickly get complicated when sparks fly between Emma and Killian. Really fun to read, plus anything with the Brothers Jones is always a pleasure.

**Roger by Oubliette14 (Rated T) - Emma’s dog gets hit by a car, but when Killian, who works at the vet’s office, offers to pay for the emergency surgery to save the dog’s life. SO SWEET and nearly made me cry. 

**Drag Me Down by seastarved (Rated T) - Just a little royals one-shot that might break your heart, but it’s so beautifully written, I kinda wish it was a multi-chap. 

**Chasing Thursdays by nowforruin (Rated M) - Elsa and Emma open an ice cream shop in Storybrooke, Killian owns the tattoo parlor across the street. He comes in every Thursday for ice cream, and Emma doesn’t quite realize how much he’s gotten under her skin until the day he doesn’t.

**We Got Us by lifeinahole (Rated M) - Emma and Killian are happy and in love...but scared to let their friends and family in on it, lest they ruin what they’ve got with drama. A cute one-shot in which the entire Swan/Charming/Jones crew spend a beach vacation together, with CS trying to hide their relationship.

**My Eyes, They Speak For Me by lifeinahole (Rated M) - Canon-Divergence from New York City Serenade. Killian goes back to NY for Emma and she takes the potion, but when they go back to Storybrooke...it’s not there. They go back to New York and try to figure out how to get back to Emma’s family. 

***Snowflakes and Starlight by AlexandraLyman (Rated K) - LieutenantDuckling sweetness with a dash of Brothers Jones, and I’m a sucker for both. Beautiful.  

***Team Bonding by msgenevieve447 (Rated M) - After an accidental kiss during Laser Tag between coworkers, and Emma learning that not everything is as it seems. A sweet short multi-chap with some delightful pining. 

***Where the Lovelight Gleams by icecubelotr44 (Rated K) - Christimas in the Darling Affair universe. This made me way too emotional, seriously. Emma’s facing her daughter’s first real Christmas without Killian without much enthusiasm when her husband has been MIA for months, but that changes when Liam delivers the best Christmas present of all. 

***The Legend of Captain Killian Jones by HollyeLeigh (Rated M) - Killian Jones is cursed to haunt the halls of his family’s manor as a ghost, only regaining corporeal form once every hundred years as a chance to break his curse. He gets some help from an unlikely source. A fun supernatural read with an awesome twist on Killian’s story.

***Bird of Prey by Shoedonym (Rated M) - Swan Mythology AU. This is so beautiful and poetic and I can’t sing its praises enough. Killian visits the lake on the third full moon of spring even though the stories warn against it, and he comes to the conclusion that the line between fact and fairy tales is a lot more blurry than one might think. 

***Two-Day Shipping by High-Seas-Swan (Rated T) - A sweet, fun little one-shot where Killian and Liam own a bait and tackle shop. Emma goes in looking for a chair, she doesn’t quite expect anything more. 

***Not One of Those Stories by effulgentcolors (Rated M) - Killian is the town’s recluse, a loner, and when he hears that there’s a new sheriff coming to town, all he really wants is the chance to have a friend. I really loved this story, with the unique twist on an older Killian. Read the thing. 

***Tim Finnegan’s Wake by icecubelotr44 (Rated T) - Emma’s a little annoyed with the music blasting from her neighbor’s apartment, so she’s all the more surprised at how concerned she is when it suddenly stops. A lovely amount of angst ensues. 

*** CS 0155 Data Witchcraft by strangetales (Rated M) - An awesome and creative take on Emma & Killian’s love story with modern witchcraft sprinkled in. Loved this story.