#cs alternate season two ff

[snowbellewells]

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight ~ the end

Here it is at long last -- the conclusion to my @cssns​19 werewolf saga! Never would I have thought it would take me so long to complete, but after two years of work and two complete MCs in this world, I honestly think I was having a hard time saying goodbye to these versions of all of them. (Particularly this Graham and this Belle, who I honestly didn’t expect to steal so much of my affection.) Still, I'm sorry those who have been following this had to wait so long! Thanks you so much for reading and for sticking with me on this venture. Enjoy the happy ending (beginning)! :)

Plus, kudos and thanks once more to @branlovestowrite​ for this gorgeous fic cover, that I STILL can’t stop staring at!!! <3

This full story from the beginning can be found here or on AO3.  As can its predecessor “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)” from @cssns​18 - here and on AO3 or ff.net.

Summary: A werewolf au and alternate season two and beyond fic from the @cssns​ event.  Should probably read the first story in the series, "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)", or it might be a bit confusing in places. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting....

~ epilogue: two very happy beginnings

After all the trouble and fear which had preceded their birth, and the risk their mother had endured to deliver them, there was nothimg but bliss surrounding Belle and Graham’s newborns once they arrived. Both were peaceful and content babies, seeming fit and healthy and perfectly adorable in every way - no furry toes, lupine ears, or anything else which one might have wondered about with such unusual origins and accelerated gestation. All of their organs and extremities were fully formed and working well; an immense relief to their mother and father, who were already desperately enamored of them, and the friends and makeshift family who had gathered around them in support.

In fact, the only real hint at their supernatural heritage was that both already had adorable ringlets of a deep russet brown, much the same color as Belle’s, though the curls were all Graham at his most disheveled, when fingers had been carded through it repeatedly. Both had the most adorable, cherubic chubby-cheeked faces that anyone who looked on them would agree they had ever seen, and they had charmed nearly every nurse in the ward where Belle had been moved for observation during her recovery, with barely more than a blink, a gurgle, or the single wave of a pudgey little hand. It seemed - much to the dismay of their numerous new admirers - that Belle would almost certainly be cleared to leave soon, as she seemed to be mending remarkably well.

In the meantime, however, Graham had taken a full paternity leave from the station in order to fuss over her protectively to his own satisfaction, promoting Emma to acting sheriff for the time being, and her dad and her wolf man both as deputies. Belle had tried to reason that it wasn’t necessary, that she was in good hands, and that she already felt much better, but he was having none of it; intent on being right by her side and at her beck and call with an almost desperate physical need. He come so close to losing her - her and the two precious pups he already loved more than life. He could not fathom how he would have survived if Belle had not. Even for someone who had spent much of his life in a solitary, isolated existence, loneliness still threatened to choke and suffocate him at the thought of losing her; the one person who had ever eased his burden and truly felt his pain - because, in many ways, it had been her own as well. The very idea of her presence fading from the world was overwhelming.

On rounding the corner into the hallway for his love’s room, he could hear raised voices and raucous laughter. Brow furrowing immediately, and hand rather damagingly tightening its clutch on the bag of chocolate croissants and takeaway cup of hot tea Belle had wheedled him into fetching for her, Graham’s hackles rose unbidden as he doubled his pace.  Granted, the uproar sounded pleasant enough, but it wasn’t what he had expected to encounter upon his return, and Belle needed her rest, not well-meaning visitors overexciting her and wearing her out. Though he knew he was being ridiculous and bordering on driving Belle crazy with his caution and concern for her health, he couldn’t do much to stop the unbidden reactions that kept rising within him either. 

Wheeling into the room, ready to show her visitors out, Graham stopped short at the collection of people crowded into the small space, and Belle in the center of it all, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and the happiest smile as she looked up to greet him.

“You’re back,” she crooned warmly, holding out her delicate hand for him to take, as well as to pull him closer. “Look! Can you believe this? Everyone wanted to see the twins and bring them gifts.”

Mary Margaret, at the foot of Belle’s bed, beamed at him and then Belle once more in turn. “Well, that is the best part of knowing someone with a little one,” she chipped in mischievously, “getting to spoil them with all the cutest toys and clothes.” 

Her husband beside her chuckled, his hand shaking with his mirth even as he pulled her into his side to affectionately press his lips to the top of her head. “Only you, Sweetheart,” he teased.

Henry practically bounced on the balls of his feets between his grandparents and his mom and Killian, clutching a gift bag he clearly hadn’t yet been able to give to Belle.

Ducking his head, Graham flushed at the thought that he had been about to banish them all from the room. One look at their faces showed they meant nothing but to help them both celebrate the joyous arrivals and Belle’s recovery; not to mention that one needed only to glance at the new mother for a second to see the good their visit had done.

Glancing sheepishly at his former liege, Graham nodded respectfully to Mary Margaret. “Thank you, truly, your Majesties, but… you didn’t have to do this… I mean, my Queen… Um, er, Snow?” Though both she and Charming had repeatedly let him know that bowing and formality were unnecessary, it was an adaptation the former Huntsman was still making, with varied amounts of success.

Snow reached out to press his upper arm with her hand, assuring him that the pleasure had been theirs, which he was grateful for - even as Emma and Killian on one side of the bed, and Ruby and Granny on the other, were set to laughing once more at his expense. Her husband smiled at her genuinely; that wide, magnanimous smile which let a person know that he was understood, that all was well, that he was seen and cared for by those called to rule and wear the crown of royalty - even if, in this world, that mark of leadership took the form of a deputy’s badge rather than a throne and lavish finery.

Taking pity on his awkward tendency in larger groups, Belle beckoned her love closer still, a gentle and knowing smile on her lips. “Maybe you’d like to help me make our announcement, since everyone seems to be here anyway,” she suggested, gazing up at Graham in sweet affection despite the heated blush that stole across his neck and the tips of his ears, though his stubble hid the pink of his cheeks.

Her sheriff nodded eagerly, knowing that their gathered group of friends and loved ones would be excited to hear the news, and he hoped, touched as well by the small gesture of thanks he and Belle were offering in return for their kindness and loyalty. To his mind, it could never come close to being enough, but it was something. Clasping Belle’s hand in his as he reached her side, Graham brought it up to his mouth, laying soft, chaste kisses to her knuckles one by one as they were intertwined by his own.

Looking back up into the faces of the fiercely protective tribe gathered round them, the man who had once faced the world completely alone found it particularly fitting that the twins were in the arms of Ruby and Emma. Since the little declaration they were about to make would touched those two fierce women most, it seemed almost kismet that those two would already be holding the little boy and girl. 

“As Belle already mentioned,” Graham began, a grin making its way across his face in spite of his dislike for the center of attention. This joyous moment was different, and he found himself almost beaming as those gathered before him looked up curiously at his words. “We have a couple of things we’d like to tell you. Seeing that we might not have reached this point so happily without all of you, it seemed only right that you be the first ones to know. These two cuties you’re all busy cuddling and spoiling within an inch of their lives…” At that, he gestured to the two happily gurgling littles ones, and his audience chuckled, knowing he had them with the spoiling. “These two new arrivals have names at last. Belle and I would very much like you to officially meet Rose Red and Hunter Henry.”

Oohs and ahhs over the perfection and adorability of their choices broke out all around, though no one’s enthusiasm was felt more than Henry’s. At hearing that the little boy cradled in his mom’s arms was sharing his first name for a middle one, Henry’s eyes bugged wide in sparkling excitement. Thrilled and bouncing even more than he had been previously, the young prince looked to Belle sweetly, thrilled beyond all reasoning. “You - you named him for me?” he repeated in awe.

Belle nodded, the smile she offered her young friend both kind and affectionately indulgent. Her eyes were more than a bit wide and glazed with a sheen of unshed tears as she wrapped him up in the hug he offered. “Of course we did!” she whispered in his ear emphatically. “You brought all of us back to our real selves with your belief. Who wouldn’t want their little ones to have a heart like yours?”

Graham leaned over to envelop them both in a fierce hug too before Henry and Belle could separate. His own voice was husky and rasped with stark emotion, but he spoke over the lump of feeling to second Belle’s response. “You were a light when so many of us had little else in this place - not even our true selves. You should know what a hero you are by now.”

Henry shook his head in disbelief, having a hard time swallowing such praise, even as it sent a wide, crooked smile across his face and pride stir within him. Yet, as he glanced around at everyone else in the room, they were nodding and affirming their agreement - from Ruby beaming at him widely, to his grandma’s teary joy, to his mom and Killian standing together, with his mom mouthing ‘He’s right, you are’ to him with a look of such parental approval and love that Henry hardly knew how to handle it.

Chuckling good naturedly, Ruby reached out to ruffle his hair, something he had begun to protest his mom doing (he wasn’t a little kid anymore!) but which didn’t seem to bother him when the pretty brunette werewolf did it. Her teasing and bright, toothy smile made the usual gripe die on his tongue and a flush creep up his neck instead. “Well, I’m not sure I’m even half so deserving as Henry,” Ruby jested, “but I’m still touched you’d put ‘Red’ in there for a middle name too.”

“Well…” Graham paused, drawing out his next words dramatically as he flicked yet another look over at Belle who nodded eagerly, biting back a giggle at the glint of mischief in his eye and at how happily surprised they were about to make her vivacious new friend. “It seemed only fair she carry a nod to one of her two godmothers in her name. That is… if you and Emma agree to take on that role.”

Ruby squealed with barely contained glee, stopping herself just in time from jumping up and down in her excitment and jostling the little girl dozing in her arms. “Are you serious?” she asked, dark eyes wide in awe and genuine surprise. “Me?... Truly?!?”

Belle clutched her hand, reaching out with kind approbation. “Truly and absolutely… we’d be honored.”

After a moment weighted with feeling and acceptance, all three turned their faces to Emma, who was blinking rapidly as she glanced up from Hunter’s cherubic countenance to return their gaze, and nodded wordlessly, offering a tremulous smile to her friends before finally managing to croak out, “Me too… absolutely.”

That afternoon took on a golden-tinged glow for all of them in reminiscence. Looking back on it at any time afterwards, that moment just after the twins’ birth was one of those scarce ones that only come along ever so rarely, where everything seems right as it should. A moment meant to be frozen and kept sacred in the mind’s eye, one to treasure.

Even after life began to shift back to normal, they were forever altered - and despite the difficulty and danger they’d weathered - for the better. After recuperating (much longer than she had wished, at Graham’s and her other friends’ insistence) Belle returned to her beloved library, helping anyone who stepped into her sanctuary find the story they sought. Graham eventually stemmed the flow of stifling overprotectiveness and desire to watch over his love at every moment, and returned to his post and duties as sheriff, taking care of the town that had become his home - the people in it more family than he had even been gifted by birth.

And though it might have been a reluctant parting at first, both of them rested in the assurance that either godmother they left their children with had successfully fought both villains and monsters, and would do so again for their young. If Emma had the day off from the station, she often took the twins out on the waves with Killian in his ship, their childish giggles and squeals showing signs of them coming to love the wind and waves almost as much as the trees and shadowed clearings of the forest. If Emma was working, Ruby or Granny were more than happy to entertain and look after Rose and Hunter. Ruby had been known to set them both on the diner counter in their car seats when she was hostess, making faces at them in play and allowing pretty much everyone in the town who entered Granny’s to fall in love with them. Or sometimes Granny would rock them gently, one in each arm, in an old rocker situated in the corner of her upstairs office. Though she had mostly recovered from Morgana’s attack, her older joints didn’t have the healing powers they had once possessed, and she simply couldn’t stay on her feet in the kitchens all day as she once had. She was more than pacified in her occasional relegation to the quiet room to keep the books and check tourists into the inn by the presence of the two little ones where she could have them all to her self and tell them old stories, just as she had once done for Ruby and Graham years ago.

And Emma… well, she and Killian understood quite well what would bring both their sheriff and librarian back to the service of their strange little fairy tale town in whatever way they felt called. The sense of belonging to and affection for a place both of them had once considered themselves “only passing through” or arrived in by mistake was uncannily right, all the way down to their sinew and bones. When Emma’s deputy shifts ended in the afternoon or early evening, she found herself with a wealth of options - more people to see and things to do than she would have ever imagined for herself. On days when she was finished by three, she sometimes strolled over to the school to meet Henry and her mother and walk to her parents’ loft with them for an afternoon snack - or if it was raining, she might pick them up in the Bug. Occasionally, she drove over to the animal shelter where her father was now office manager and spent time with her dad - the novelty of that, which she had wished for so often in her growing up years, never seemed to wear thin. Moreover as well as growing closer and closer to her dad, she was growing more and more tempted with each visit to adopt the large, saucy tomcat that always greeted her with his vocal purring as she arrived and reached her hand into his enclosure to stroke his sleek, beautifully striped fur and scratch behind his ears.

“Who’s a good boy?” she found herself crooning more often than not, to her dad’s chuckling over her shoulder.

“Oh, he is - and he knows it!” Prince Charming offered. “He’s been here nearly six months now. His owner trained him well - loved him and spoiled him rotten truthfully - but she passed away... Antonio, I believe she called him.”

Emma snorted, “Must have been a Shrek fan,” she mumbled under her breath, now offering him gentle scritches under his chin.

“What’s that?” her dad asked, a puzzled tilt to his head.

“Oh, never mind,” Emma waved her hand. “Just another movie woven into this place with a tie to fairy tales, but I doubt you’ve seen it. The Puss in Boots character in it is voiced by an actor named Antonio.”

Her father chuckled, shaking his head at his own oblivious ignorance, long used to such occurences happening by that point. “Gotcha. Well, regardless, he definitely likes you, and he’d be good company. Plus, a good mouser on a pirate ship…?”

Emma cut her eyes to her father with a wry smile, both knowing what he was hinting at, and that he was digging for more info. “Subtle, Dad… real subtle.”

Yet it didn’t stop her from carrying said ‘mouser’ in her arms when she headed out that night as her dad locked up. The adoption paperwork was folded and stuffed into her back pocket, and she knew Killian would be equally as charmed by the handsome feline as she had been. Even as she and her father parted ways and she set off on her path to the docks, shaking her head at her own softheartedness, she knew that her wolf man would welcome her pet with open arms. He had even more of a weakness for lonely creatures in need of a home than she did.

The moonlight glittered off the dark waters of Storybrooke harbor, where the Jolly Roger was now permanently berthed. Pausing on the wooden planks of the dock, Emma gazed up at the ship, seeing her sailor standing on board, bathed in the ethereal glow and staring up at the stars overhead. His magnificent old ship had come to seem like her home too; she practically lived there with him for all intents and purposes. 

Something warm swelled within her chest as Killian turned at the sound of her approach and smiled down at her in welcome. “I’ve brought you a new recruit,” she offered playfully, stepping up to the gangplank where he could see the animal nestled happily in her arms.

“Well now, Lass,” Killian murmured, a pleased smile teasing at his firm, supple mouth as he took in the purring tabby. “It’s been some years since we’ve had a good mouser aboard the Jolly. He’s an admirable find for certain.” His wink along with the words made her blush, even with such a light and playful conversation.

Holding out his hand to help her aboard, Emma thrilled at the gentle pressure of her pirate’s fingers wrapped around her smaller ones. As she reached his side on deck, she leaned into Killian’s sturdy frame while his arms encircled her and his spicy scent enveloped her senses, the rightness of the moment and them together and their place in their world - home at long last - could not be any clearer. Their port was set, wherever they might sail.

Tagging: @cssns​ @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @spartanguard​ @laschatzi​ @therooksshiningknight​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @gingerchangeling​ @winterbaby89​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @hollyethecurious​ @artistic-writer​ @lfh1226-linda​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @thisonesatellite​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @thislassishooked​

[searchingwardrobes]

Someone to Watch Over Me: 14/24

Finally, another update of this fic! This story was giving me SO much trouble! Finally, I ended up scrapping everything I had planned from this chapter on and starting over. Remember when I said Regina would stay full on Evil Queen in this? Sorry, but the muse went in a different direction. Still, I'm excited about where this will go.

I also sincerely apologize for chapter 13. I must have been really tired or something when I posted it because, good Lord! there were a lot of errors! I went in and edited it, and I am so embarrassed it has been sitting here for all the world to see, full of typos and verb tense shifts. So sorry about that!

You know that saying "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"? I've personally always thought it should be "Hell hath no fury like a mama bear when you mess with her cub." Hence this chapter title . . .

Summary: Emma Swan is ten when she first sees the pair of bright blue eyes through the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those same eyes again at 16 and 23. Inspired by this prompt: a child is kidnapped, and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.

Rating: T

Trigger warning: attempted rape and violence in chapter two (violence because the “monster” gets pissed)

Words: about 2,000 in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @kday426 @thislassishooked @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @shireness-says (Let me know if anyone wants to be removed/added to the tagging list for this fic.)

 Chapter 14: Hell Hath No Fury

Killian gently stops Emma as she races out of Granny’s with his hook around her elbow. She sighs as she spins around. They’ve had many good-natured, teasing arguments about who’s faster, and normally she could outrun him no matter what he says, but these days there’s a definite waddle to her gait, much as she’s loathe to admit it.

“Now don’t give me that look, love,” he says with a gentle smile.

“We can’t just sit around while the Dark One plots his revenge!”

“I know that,” he tells her softly as he steps closer, “better than anyone, but even with your powerful magic it isn’t wise to go up against the bloody crocodile alone.”

“I can’t believe I was so naïve,” Emma mumbles against Killian’s chest as he draws her close.

Another hand cups her head and another one rubs her back. She looks up from the shelter of Killian’s embrace to see her parents on either side of her.

“No Emma,” Snow says gently, “you weren’t naïve to give Henry a chance to know his father.”

Emma steps back with her fists clenched. Her entire family regards her with worried expressions, even Martha who’s being held in her grandmother’s arms. At the outpouring of love and concern, she deflates.

“You’re right,” she admits, “all of you.”

“We’ll deal with the Dark One, love,” Killian assures her, “but we’ll do it together.”

There’s a sudden commotion heading down the street: Grumpy and the rest of the dwarves shouting and shaking their picks in the air, other residents screaming and ducking behind vehicles and into the nearest storefronts, and in the middle of it all is Regina Mills making her way with angry strides down the street. Whenever an irate citizen lobs a rock or piece of trash in her direction, she incinerates it casually with a fireball, her stony gaze fixed on the family gathered outside of Granny’s. Emma pushes her family behind her and raises both hands which light up with magic. Her husband and her father both draw their swords. She's sure her mother would pull out a bow and arrow if she weren’t rushing Martha back into the diner. Emma chuckles when she sees Granny march out with a crossbow to stand at Emma’s side.

“Oh for God’s sake, put down the weapons,” Regina snaps when she gets close enough, “the reason I’m here is something we can all agree on.”

“I seriously doubt that,” David snaps.

“I don’t have time for your witty villain/hero dialogue,” despite her sarcasm, Regina’s façade cracks. “It’s Henry.”

“Henry?” Emma asks, lowering her hands.

“Rumplestiltskin has him,” Regina tells them, her voice shaking as tears well up in her eyes, “and I can’t do a damn thing about it because I can’t cross the town line!”

“She’s right,” Happy speaks up, immediately earning him punches from his fellow dwarves. “Ow! What? It’s true. We pushed Sneezy over and now he doesn’t know who he is.”

“You pushed one of your brothers over the town line?” David asks.

“He drew the short straw,” Grumpy argues.

“Shut up!” Regina screams. “My son has been kidnapped!”

“And how do we know you aren’t in league with the Crocodile?” Killian asks. “How do we know we can trust you?”

“He’s right,” Emma agrees, lifting her hands again. “You cast the curse. Why wouldn’t you be able to leave?”

“I don’t know!” Regina shouts, her hands shaking. “Rumple cast a spell or something. He’s taken Henry to New York, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it!”

The sound of a cell phone ringing pierces the tension, and Regina pulls her phone from her coat pocket. “Henry?” Eyes wide, Regina looks at Emma. “It’s for you.”

Emma takes it from Regina, and though she’s wary, she has to admit the woman seems truthful. Everything about her demeanor says she is distraught and desperate for help. She still refuses to take her eyes off the Evil Queen, however, as she puts the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Swan, good afternoon. You never told me we were practically related.”

Rumplestiltskin.

“There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you,” he tells her smoothly.

“Emma!”

“Henry!”

The adults around her surge closer at her exclamation. Emma lifts a hand to still them all, Henry clearly isn’t distressed, and she doesn’t want to put him in any danger.

“Hey, kid. What’s up?”

“Dad is taking me on a trip to New York, isn’t that cool? My mom even said I could go!”

Emma glances over at Regina, who has clearly heard Henry’s words. Her eyes widen, and she gives her head a quick shake. The woman is clearly telling the truth – she had no idea Neal and his father were taking Henry on a trip, especially not to New York.

“And guess what else? Mr. Gold is my grandpa too! I mean, I hardly had any family at all, and now look! All because you broke the curse. I knew you would fix everything!”

Emma presses her lips together. “Speaking of, kiddo, can you put your dad on the phone?”

“Sure!”

“Ems -”

“Don’t Ems me, Neal,” she hisses into the phone, “how could you do this?”

“Do what? Protect my kid from a town full of bat shit crazy?”

“Oh, really? So you take off with your father, the freakin DARK ONE?”

There’s a rustling sound, and then Rumplestiltskin is back on the line. “Let’s all get along, Ms. Swan, after all, we’re family. Henry is in good hands, believe me.”

“We will find you,” Emma hisses, “we will find you and get him back!”

“Find us? Out here in the Land Without Magic? Now won’t that be interesting to see.”

Then the line goes dead. Emma squeezes the phone in her palm, her entire body trembling. The Dark One has just pissed off the wrong mother. She glances at Regina and for the first time feels a bit of solidarity with the woman.

Correction, he just pissed off two dangerous women.

**************************************************

“How do we know if we can trust Regina?”

David’s question is the same one on everyone else’s mind as Emma paces the living area in their room at Granny’s. Martha is napping in her and Killian’s bed, thankfully.

“Listen,” Killian says hesitantly, “I know my history with Regina isn’t as complicated as yours, but I of all people know how having a child changes you.”

Emma stops her pacing and smiles fondly at her husband. “I know that, babe, but has it changed Regina? She mistreated Henry, made him think he was crazy.”

“Was that because she was evil,” Killian asks sincerely, “or was it because she was afraid he wouldn’t love her back if he learned the truth?”

“That’s no excuse!” Snow exclaims. “None of you have any idea how good she is at manipulation.”

“On the contrary,” Killian sighs, his eyes downcast, “I’m afraid I do. She and I once worked together. It isn’t something I’m proud of, believe me.”

Killian rolls his shoulders back, and Emma’s heart swells with pride as he looks her father head on. “One thing I know, I’ve never seen Regina frantic like this.”

“Maybe not,” David argues, “but how do we know she isn’t working with Gold? How do we know this isn’t their plan to lure the savior away?”

Killian locks eyes with Emma, unwavering faith shining in his eyes. “You used your superpower, right love? Was she lying?”

Emma chews on her bottom lip. “No. She wasn’t lying. She had no idea Neal and his father were taking Henry to New York.”

“But we still don’t know if Gold is luring you away,” Snow points out.

“You’re right,” Emma sighs, “we don’t, but what can we do? We have to get Henry back, and I’m the only one who can go.”

“That’s not true,” her father says, voice intense as he gazes first at Emma and then at Killian. “Your husband should go with you. He was never under the curse, he can cross the town line.”

“What about Martha?” Emma exclaims.

Snow steps close and puts an arm around her daughter. “She has her grandparents.”

David nods, “Don’t worry, Emma, she’ll be safe with us. You don’t need to go alone.”

Emma watches a variety of emotions cross her husband’s face, and her heart breaks a little bit at the shock displayed there. He still doesn’t feel worthy, and she hates it.

“You . . . you trust me, mate? A pirate?”

David slaps a hand to Killian’s shoulder. “I’m trusting my son . . . in-law.”

**************************************************

The boy will be your undoing . . . the boy . . . your undoing . . . then I’ll just have to kill him . . . kill him . . .

Rumplestiltskin hobbles down the streets of New York, the words from so long ago playing in his mind. He’s found his son, actually has a chance at a good relationship with Bae, and yet the prophecy hangs over his head. The Dark One magic thrums through his veins, hissing, snapping, practically commanding him to just kill Henry. But he’s his grandson. Baelfire’s own boy!

He expected to feel his magic fade away the minute he crossed the town line, and while it did dampen somewhat, it still remains. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword. Part of him is relieved to still have his magic at his disposal, even if it’s subdued, even if he has to limp around the city. The magic is there, and that means he isn’t impotent. He can solve this little dilemma. Of course, the Dark Magic controls him, seduces him, in a way no one can comprehend or understand. Belle never understood. Neither does his son. Both of them wanted him to give it up. Don’t they know they ask the impossible?

Rumple doesn’t know the city, but he knows magic, and he’s been following a trail of it for an hour now. Baelfire and Henry are asleep back at his son’s apartment, but this magic called to him so incessantly, he couldn’t ignore it.

He stops in front of a storefront in Chinatown: The Dragon? He pushes on the door, a bell tinkling to announce his presence. A man in traditional Chinese garments turns to face Rumplestiltskin, and he instantly knows: this Dragon person isn’t from The Land Without Magic. His person and this store reeks with magic. So much so that the Dark One breathes deep of it, and Rumple smiles sadistically.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, I need magic.”

The man chuckles.”Oh really? And what sort?”

“The kind that can dispose of an . . . inconvenience.”

The boy would not be his undoing.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Tidings of Something” (au)

Summary: When Emma gets injured during a routine bail bonds job, it may be the Christmas miracle she never knew she needed, if only because it finally gets her to open her eyes about the man that helps her through everything. Killian would’ve preferred the Christmas without picking Emma up from a hospital, but doesn’t much mind the way it all turns out.

Rating: Barely even T, I think.

A/N: So maybe it would’ve given me away had I said “Hi @captainmorningstar! I’m your secret santa and I’m never on time!” and she would’ve been like “Oh! My santa is lifeinahole because she never posts anything when she’s supposed to!” and then at least it would’ve been anticlimactic when I forgot to hit anon. Despite all that, I had a blast gathering the info for this and writing it. Thanks to @cssecretsanta2k19 for putting this together - for putting us together. I had such a fun time getting to know my darling giftee and writing this tailored gift for her. I hope you enjoy it, my dear!

-x-

It’s the second week of December, and already Emma has heard the song playing over the speakers at least twenty times. It doesn’t help that there are only thirteen Christmas songs total and the radio stations just cycle through each iteration on an endless loop. Despite all of this, though, Emma is humming along to the soft strains of an instrumental “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” as the pain meds finally start to do their job.

“Swan?”

The sound of his voice is sweeter than any song ever could be, and with a struggle, Emma opens her eyes to the bright fluorescents overhead, blinking until Killian’s face comes into focus above her.

“Hi there,” he says when he can see she’s tuned in.

“Hi,” she responds, her voice dreamy and her smile as big and as dopey as she imagines it is. She’s caught up in the blue of his eyes, the perfect lines of his face, the worry lines crinkling his forehead as he visually checks her over.

She’s fine, of course. Not the first time she sprained her wrist, but the rib subluxation is something she could’ve lived without.

The stress on Killian’s face fades slightly as he looks at her, relief taking its place.

“You had me worried, love.”

“Nothing to worry about,” she wheezes out as she struggles to sit up. “I’m fine.” A deep inhale of breath says otherwise as her left side reminds her of that whole rib thing and she winces, doing her best to keep her breathing even so she doesn’t hurt herself again.

He hums his response, settling onto the bed next to her as he asks her to explain what happened. It’s a brief story, thankfully: bail runner caught on, shoved her as hard as he could, and took off. It wasn’t until she’d slapped the cuffs onto him that she realized she was in pain, once the adrenaline started to wear off. Somehow, she made it to the hospital on her own and it wasn’t until they said she wouldn’t be able to drive home that she realized she was going to need help. Enter Killian: faithful friend, dockworker with an understanding boss, love of her life that she’s never told.

He smells like salt today, and there’s a hint of fish from working so close to the cannery, but she doesn’t mind, not when she carefully rests her head on his shoulder and melts into his embrace grabbing onto his prosthetic hand in a gesture of comfort. She’s not sure how much longer she can stay awake, so she’s thankful when the doctor finally comes in with her final advice for recovery.

Emma’s going to be off work for a while, which is going to suck. She’s set for now, but a month is a long time to go without a paycheck. The only bright side is that she works her ass off all year so she can take it easy around Christmas, so she was looking to spend less time chasing after people anyway. 

She’s been here for a couple days staking out this particular mark, so they have to get her packed and checked out of her hotel. They make arrangements with said hotel to leave her car there until Killian and David can come down to get it, and then Killian is bundling her into the passenger side of his vehicle, easing them onto the highway and turning down the volume when Emma inevitably caves and falls asleep after the first five miles.

She doesn’t wake again until they’re pulling up in front of her apartment building. Then it’s a delicate operation getting her out of the truck and into her apartment. The sprain in her wrist isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Maybe a little more pressure from the fall and she’d be dealing with a fracture instead, but it certainly doesn’t tickle right now. It’s still easy enough to get changed on her own and settled into the bed, accepting the glass of water that Killian hands her after he knocks to make sure she’s decent.

“Try to rest. I’m going to grab us some dinner and come back in a bit, okay?”

Emma’s too tired to even speak, so she nods, nesting down into her bed and letting her body finally rest.

-x-

It’s only after he knows she’s fast asleep that Killian leaves, carefully locking the apartment door behind him when he goes. He heads to the sheriff’s station first, as he knows David needs to hear in person that his adopted “little” sister got the shite kicked out of her at work today.

Getting the call from Emma was terrifying; he probably would’ve panicked if he’d gotten the call about anyone, but with Emma it’s… different. He’s been in love with her for so long now that he can’t even recall when or how it happened. But he’s the person she calls when she’s in trouble, and a devoted best friend. He can’t mess any of that up with feelings that she doesn’t reciprocate.

“Killian? What are you doing out of work so early? I thought you guys were shutting down the spare docks for the season.”

“We were. But I got called away on an emergency so I left this morning before lunch.

“What kind of emergency?” David asks, his voice and face going deadly serious. There are only so many people in this town Killian knows, and David knows which one he would drop everything for without hesitation.

“Don’t worry, it’s all okay,” Killian says first. “Emma called from Portland because she took a bit of a spill. Nothing is broken, but she’s a little bruised.”

Immediately, Killian can see David popping into “overprotective brother” mode and understands that this is exactly why Killian was called to tend to Emma instead of him.

“How bruised?”

“It’s just a sprained wrist and she almost dislocated a rib. Nothing but some standard pain killers involved. She’s already back home and resting. You and I will have to drive down to Portland this weekend and retrieve her vehicle.”

The other man relaxes, even if just slightly, at hearing that nothing is broken and that she’s already home. Killian’s been around long enough that he knows exactly how this all goes.

“I was hoping, however, to enlist your lovely wife to help keep an eye on her. She’s going to have to refrain from work for a little bit but we both know Emma loves to push herself even when she should be resting.”

“Of course. She’s going to do what she wants, in the end, but maybe we can at least keep her entertained enough that she won’t feel the need to go out looking for trouble.”

He’s always thankful for David. Not only is he a friend to Killian, but he’s on similar wavelengths when it comes to how Emma works. They know she’s a woman of her own mind, and that she is not to be directed, so they work to find healthy alternatives.

For all the years that Emma has been in his life, she’s been chasing bail skips. He’s seen it hurt her but he’s also seen how much of a thrill she gets from a victory. It probably feels like vengeance against Neal every time she catches a scumbag that should be in jail, and so he’s happy to support her ventures. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare the daylights out of him when she gets injured, though.

One thing is for sure, he will always stand by her decisions, will stand beside her in every way he can, but he’s still allowed to wish she’d take the position David offered her as a deputy for their sleepy little town. He understands why she can’t, but it doesn’t stop him from hoping sometimes.

-x-

When Emma wakes up, it’s to a much darker apartment, but she can smell food. That’s what draws her slowly from her bedroom, taking her time and being extremely cautious with her left side.

She loves her job. She wishes it wouldn’t lead to moments like this, but this is the exception and definitely not the rule. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about joining the simple life sometimes.

A while ago, David offered her a position at the station as a deputy. She said “no” without even really thinking about it, but over the last couple months she’s been thinking more and more about what it would mean to take it.

She wouldn’t likely get beaten up anymore, that’s for sure. Storybrooke is more about minor traffic violations, and a yearly dispute, usually between two of the miners that happen to be brothers, and only after they’ve been drinking after work. They deal with petty squabbles and neighborly disagreements, but they’re so simple and easy to solve, and at the end of the day, everyone still loves each other in this town.

Having a job at the station would mean seeing her brother more often, and staying in town. It would mean a dedicated health care plan and like, a 401k. It would pay the bills a little more predictably than her current adventures. And while that’s all really boring stuff at this point, it would feel good not to worry about those things as much as she does right now.

And so she considers telling Killian she’s been thinking about it again. Been thinking about a lot of things, really, but she can’t tell him – not when he looks so devastatingly handsome standing in her kitchen plating up whatever’s been heating in her oven while she’s been sleeping. Because there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same way, and taking a job at the station means she can’t just leave if it all goes to shit.

“You’re awake!”

Her attention is brought back to the man in her apartment and Emma shakes off the rest of her thoughts. This right here, having time with her friend, is what matters more than anything.

They settle in and eat dinner, watching a movie when they’re done and everything has been cleaned up (by Killian, of course, because he wouldn’t let her lift a finger). She falls asleep on his shoulder less than halfway through, succumbing to the chaos of the day earlier than she meant to.

When she wakes again, it’s morning, and she’s in her bed.

There’s a note on the fridge telling her to take it easy, and she scoffs at it as she goes to brew coffee. It’s not like she had anything planned for the day, work or otherwise.

She’s not sure if he made the plans for her or if Elsa decided on her own, but it’s just after noon when there’s a knock on her door and the blonde is standing there with a deck of cards and a tray of to-go hot chocolates.

“Did he put you up to this?”

“Nope. Told me what happened but I decided to do this all on my own. Besides, you probably didn’t have plans today anyway.”

Her words are an echo of her previous thoughts, so she shrugs a little and opens the door wide to let Elsa in.

“I was surprised you didn’t call David,” Elsa says after they’re settled in around her coffee table, lounging on cushions and blankets, looking like they’ve nested for the remainder of the winter.

“He would’ve flipped out. And Snow would’ve mothered me to death. Killian panicked, but he at least takes care of me the way I need him to.” She’s staring at the cards in her hand, trying to decide if it’s worth it to keep looking for an ace or to start discarding them from her hand.

Elsa hums at that, and Emma gives her a look. “What’s that noise for?”

“Oh, you know.”

When her friend doesn’t continue, Emma stares harder.

“Oh, come on, Emma. What was it you said to me once about knowing me before you knew me?”

Emma takes her time responding, shuffling her cards and finally discarding the five of diamonds instead of the ace. “I said I knew you because I knew myself. We were both loners, looking out for ourselves, and trying not to hurt anyone else along the way.”

“Exactly. That’s the kind of bond we had when we were still a pinch hostile towards each other when I moved here, and now we’re friends. So imagine how much more I know about you now, and how much you’re avoiding the elephant in the room.”

She stares at Elsa, trying to gauge exactly what she’s talking about. She knows it’s in reference to Killian, but Emma works so hard to keep that secret buried deep. There’s no way Elsa could know how she feels, is there?

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” Elsa asks, eliminating all questions about what thinly veiled conversation they’re having.

“Never.”

“Emma.”

“He can’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t need this baggage hanging around him when I could run at any moment.” She blurts it out, surprising even herself with the intensity of the words.

Elsa puts her cards down, completely abandoning the game at hand and reaches over for Emma.

“Has it ever occurred to you that if you ran, he would follow you?”

“I’m not sure he would, actually.”

“That man would follow you to the ends of the earth, or time, if he had to. But if you need proof, please look at the guy that left work in the middle of the day to drive to Portland to pick you up and take care of you because he knows the right way to take care of you. Your words.”

Her little speech is topped off with a raise of one of her perfect eyebrows.

“I’m not saying you need to confess your feelings right now,” she adds, grabbing the cards from Emma’s hand and gathering them all to re-deal. “But think about it. Also you should’ve discarded the ace. I’m doing you a favor.”

Emma shakes her head as she motions for Elsa to continue, taking a moment to sip from her hot chocolate and consider her options. She sets herself a deadline of January 1. Maybe by then she can make up her mind what to do or not do.

-x-

On Saturday, early in the morning, Killian pulls up outside of Emma’s apartment. David is dropping off Snow to spend time with her while they go down to Portland to get Emma’s Bug. 

But before they can get to that part of the plan, they have to make it there first.

Killian and David actually have a fantastic relationship. They bonded over having pains in the ass for brothers, and their friendship with Emma (even if David’s goes a little deeper than his own – being siblings by legal decree does mean a little more than “best friend” after all). But currently, you’d think they were strangers with the way the silence sits heavy between them in David’s SUV.

He tries to think of things to talk about, but nothing comes to mind but how to tell his very good friend that he’s in love with Emma. That’s not a conversation for a car trip where he literally cannot escape if the other man tries to aim his side of the vehicle at a tree.

Finally, he settles on something more mundane, asking what David got Snow for Christmas, and if he had any good ideas for what to get Emma this year.

That, of course, derails the conversation pretty quickly.

“You could get her your honesty about how you feel about her,” David suggests, still driving in the same calm and collected manner he has been the whole time.

“Pardon?’

“You heard me. I think she’s the only person in Storybrooke that doesn’t know how you feel.”

“Aye, well, all the more reason to not tell her. I don’t need to scare her off.”

“Why would that scare her off?” David asks, glancing over at Killian to see the tired look on his face.

“I know Emma. I know how she thinks. And she’s sworn off love for so long that I feel if I admitted my attractions that she would split as soon as she could,” he says in response.

“You never know until you try,” comes the answer to his statement, but Killian isn’t convinced.

“Does she need a new blanket for the living room, do you think?”

“You two are more alike than you think,” is David’s final comment before letting Killian successfully change the subject without returning to it again.

When they get to Portland, Killian stops in at the front desk to let him know he’s back to gather Emma’s car, making sure everything is still squared away with that before he goes out and gives David a thumbs up. The other man still waits until he sees that the Bug is successfully running, and then they both head back on the road to get home.

Killian has to pull into a gas station not long after they start driving, though, after a glance at the gauges tells him that Emma never bothered to fill up after she got here. He checks over the contents of the car quickly, making sure nothing was disturbed as he finds that the passenger door was also unlocked this whole time.

One item in particular draws him up short, however, when he reads the heading and discovers it to be an apartment application for a building not far from the hotel he just left.

When was she planning on telling anyone she was interested in moving down here? By the looks of it, she got two-thirds through the application before it was left on her passenger seat.

His heart sinks looking it over, where she’s even filled out potential move-in dates for right after the holidays are over. He can’t imagine Emma living outside of Storybrooke. She was there when he moved to the US and she’s been there for him ever since, and he never imagined she would leave. Apparently, though, she had other plans that she wasn’t sharing.

Maybe he should invest in some packing materials for Christmas in order to help her, if that’s what she wishes to do.

With every mile he drives closer to home, the more his heart aches. Should he tell her he found the application? Should he try to convince her to stay? No – he’s always claimed he would support her in anything and everything she ever did, and this change in location will be no different.

Instead, what Killian decides to do by the time he gets back, is bury the knowledge of what he’s found. If Emma wants to move, she will tell him - tell all of them - in her own time. 

By the time he makes it back to Storybrooke, he’s worked his own mind into a frenzy. All he wants to do is drop off the keys and get back home. But when he gets to Emma’s door, he can smell the food first, and hear the laughter of their friends beyond the wood. Emma must sense his arrival because she whips open the door right as he’s about to knock.

“We thought you got lost!” she says, smiling wide and yanking on his sleeve to pull him inside. “We made dinner. Come join us.”

Despite his internal turmoil, Killian obliges, kicking off his shoes by the door and hanging his coat where it always hangs. He heads to the kitchen table when he’s settled, doing his best to put on a happy mask and enjoy the time with his loved ones. 

He sets himself into the easy rhythm of traditions, passing the food in the order they always choose, and stacking the plates in a particular way when everyone is done. 

As a group, they initiate cleanup. Emma and Killian fall to their respective roles of washing and drying the plates, while David packs up the food and stores the leftovers away. He and Snow leave shortly after with their own container of food, leaving Emma and Killian by themselves as they finish the dishes. 

A million times, he tells himself to stay quiet, but that doesn’t stop him from blurting it out after five minutes. “So, the Portland Arms is a nice building.”

“It… you saw the application.”

“It was on the seat of your vehicle, so yes, I saw the application,” he says with much more attitude than he meant to. 

“It’s just…”

“Just what, love? Just a couple hours away? Just a change of scenery and nothing else will change?”

“I was going to say ‘just an application’ but you’re right with both of those, too.”

Killian sighs, deflating a bit as he places the last dry dinner plate on the stack. “I’m sorry, Swan, it’s just the thought of you leaving is a lot to take in. But if it’s truly what you want, then just let me know what you need me to do and I’ll be happy to help.”

“Hold your horses,” she tells him, patting him on the arm when her hands are dry. “I’m not going anywhere yet. Like I said, it’s just an application. I don’t know if I want to move in the middle of winter so it may be a while.”

That her obstacle is the middle of winter rather than anything else tells him a lot about her feelings on the matter, so he lets it drop. 

-x-

It feels like there’s something brewing that Emma can’t control. She’s not sure what exactly, but ever since they went down to get her car and Killian found that stupid application that she left on her seat, there’s been some underlying tension that they can’t seem to shake. He’s been moody, but also pretending he isn’t. She’s not sure why she didn’t tell him the truth, but it’s her own damn business, anyway! 

On Christmas Eve, he comes over as he always does in order to decorate her tree. Normally, Emma is fully immersed in the process of picking out, cutting down, and hauling in of her tree. This year, she had to skip the second and third parts of that, only having a hand in picking out the one she wanted while David and Killian were the ones to bring it in. It’s been in the stand for a couple days now just waiting for the trimming part, but they always wait until the day before to do that together. 

While David and Snow are busy decorating theirs and getting their little family home ready for the holiday, Killian comes to her apartment. He doesn’t put up a tree of his own because he spends so much of his time at Emma’s place. 

He doesn’t do a lot of holiday decorating for that same reason, and Emma gets why he might be upset with the idea of her moving to Portland because all of his traditions that have been formed over the years will be moving with her. 

Clearly, she didn’t consider how hard he might take it if she actually moved away. 

But as she carefully sits there unwrapping and adding ornaments to the tree, she can’t imagine doing this without him. They have assigned parts in this play: they pick the tree together, and Killian puts on the lights while she fetches the skirt and the ornaments, then he’s in charge of the garland and Emma tops the whole thing with the star. 

This year they had to make some concessions to make sure Emma doesn’t hurt herself, but she’s still taking care of the ornaments while Killian struggles to get the beaded garland untangled. He’s muttering to himself, saying how he meant to wrap them around something last year when they packed it all up, but it’s all a diatribe to himself and she just listens and tries her best not to laugh. 

He’s helpless. Adorable and helpless. And she doesn’t really realize what she’s doing until she’s already moving towards him - the small swan ornament she’d been holding is abandoned back in the box and she’s grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards her.

There’s a look of shock on his face as she tugs him down, and then she’s not thinking about how there was no warning leading up to this but how right it feels to be kissing him. Killian’s surprise wears off quickly and then he’s kissing her back, wrapping his arms around her waist. She can feel the beads of the garland digging into her side where he clearly didn’t drop the strand but she doesn’t care, especially when her hand buries into his hair and she’s not sure she ever wants to surface from this again. 

He sighs out her name as they break apart at one point, and that’s when reality comes crashing down on her. What is she doing? And what is he doing kissing her back like that?

“I’m - I’m sorry. I’ll be right back,” Emma stutters out, making a dash for the bathroom. She takes her time, pressing a cool washcloth to her face and running the faucet for far too long before she exits again. 

When she comes back, the living room is empty. The garland is neatly strung around the tree, but the coat rack reveals no extras and it’s clear that he’s made a swift exit while she tried to collect herself. 

There’s a note by the tree, hastily scrawled but still more beautiful than most handwriting she’s ever seen. In it, Killian explains that he’s had a rather long day and he’s headed home to get some sleep, but that he’ll see her in the morning when they all exchange gifts. With a sigh, she turns back to her ornaments, adding the last few she had left before.

It takes her that long to realize that Killian has already added the star to the top of the tree, probably foreseeing that she can’t stretch like that on her own right now. She doesn’t even plug it in to see it all completed, instead flipping off the rest of the lights and making sure the door is locked before going to bed.

She knows why she kissed Killian - she wanted to. She wanted… wants him. She just doesn’t know why he kissed her back like a man on a mission and then bolted while she tried to make heads and tails of the situation. 

Her dreams are fraught with weird scenarios, one of which has her tangled in strands of lights and garland, trapped in a Christmas prison. She calls out for help repeatedly, but never gets an answer. Then she calls out Killian’s name and she can immediately hear a response for her to hold on, that he’s on his way.

In the morning, she wakes with that dream fresh in her mind and her heart still aches a little at the message. In all situations, great and small, she knows without a doubt that Killian will be there to help her. So what’s holding her back from telling him how she feels? 

The whole day feels different. Killian is usually the first one at her door in the morning but he’s not there when David and Snow show up. They’re the ones helping Emma put together brunch, just waiting for the oven timer to ding when Killian finally walks through the door looking like he slept about as roughly as Emma did. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he tells her as she helps him out of his coat. “Had to take care of some things at home.”

It’s a lie. She’s not sure she’s ever heard him lie to her this blatantly before. He’s lied to her about small things before, but this is the first time she’s heard him outright lie this bad since they drove down to Boston one summer and he claimed he wasn’t lost. When they ended up in New Hampshire, he finally admitted his wrongdoing. 

But when she looks a little harder at him, he averts his eyes, moving instead to remove his boots and wander over to where Snow and David have already made themselves comfortable in the living room. 

That’s the way it is all through brunch and the cleanup from their meal, and even most of the way through presents. He only really looks at her again when he thanks her for his gift. His eyes say volumes about how he’s feeling, so while the words were quiet, he’s practically screaming his gratitude in looks alone. 

When she opens the gift from him, her heart almost stops. Nestled in the small box is a swan pendant, vastly different than the last one she owned when she was younger, and already holding a lot more meaning than the little keychain some asshole once lifted from a gas station for her. She kept the old pendant for the longest time as a reminder not to trust anyone. It was Killian that helped her finally get rid of that necklace, patiently sitting with her as she took her time, made peace with all the bad memories, and then chucked it into the ocean from the boat he’d taken her out on that day.

“I hoped it would have slightly better memories than the last one,” Killian says, and she didn’t even notice him move closer until she realizes how near his voice is. “May I?”

She nods, watching in silence as he lifts the necklace from the box, taking his time to grasp the clasp between his fingers and pinching it open while holding the other side with his prosthetic. She holds her hair up and out of the way as he latches the necklace behind her, his fingers lingering just a bit before he abruptly stands. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve some work to attend to,” he says, looking regretfully at Emma before he heads for the door. He makes sure to gather his gifts, thanking David and Snow before slipping from the apartment as quickly as he showed up. 

It takes some acting, but she plays off his departure as nothing major. It’s clear he’s never mentioned the apartment application to David and Snow or else one of them would’ve blurted out an objection already. So she plays along and smiles through the rest of their time together. 

Just after they eat dinner, Snow excuses herself. “I’m going home for a moment, and I’ll be back with more cookies,” she tells them. 

Another lie, Emma can tell, but she lets her friend go, realizing pretty quickly this is a case of Divide and Conquer between the married couple. 

“I’m going to make you more hot chocolate. And when it’s done, we’re going to have a talk,” David says when the door has shut behind his wife, confirming her suspicions. 

Emma bites back the smile the best she can and follows him into the kitchen.

-x-

It’s snowing and cold but Killian doesn’t really notice any of it. His hand is shoved into his pocket and his prosthetic is resting on the wooden railing overlooking the docks. 

“I would be lost without you,” he repeats to himself. It’s the inscription she put on the inside of the compass, a beautiful rosewood piece that he would normally be so excited to display in his home until it was time to bring his own boat out of winter storage. 

Now, after everything that’s happened the last couple weeks, he can’t tell its intended meaning. She’s talking about moving, and then she kisses him, and then runs away, and then gives him this particular gift with this particular message? 

He watches his breath fog out in front of him, noticing that even that looks sad and aggravated.

“Thought I might find you out here,” comes a voice from behind him.  He turns to find Snow standing there, bundled against the cold and holding a hot mug that she hands to him.

The tea is one of his favorites, and he sighs in the comfort of the gesture.

“You two have been keeping secrets from us,” Snow says. “You don’t need to tell me everything, since I’m sure it means more to you and Emma than it does to me or David. There’s some things that I do know. It’s that you don’t get a happy ending without working for it, and that everyone deserves love. I can tell you have feelings for Emma that go beyond best friends. And though she’d never admit it, I’m pretty sure Emma feels the same way.”

“You’d get along with my brother,” Killian says, managing a smile. It doesn’t last, though. “And I don’t know if she truly does.”

“You won’t know until you talk to her.” Snow reaches out and clasps his arm. “Look, Emma has waited a long time for someone to come into her life that she trusts enough to give her heart to. And I think she so badly wants it to be you, but she’s too scared to make a move without knowing for sure how you feel.”

It’s sound advice, to maybe even make things a little more obvious to her. Handing her a necklace doesn’t explain his reasoning behind it - that he not only bought it because he thought of the way she’d smile when she saw it, but also because she deserves to replace every last memory from the last man she trusted that broke her heart. 

Snow shivers, bringing him back to the present and he’s finally aware of the snow falling heavier now than it was before. “It’s cold out here. Go home,” she tells him. “And Merry Christmas!” With a quick peck on his cheek, Snow turns and walks up the path back towards where she can see David waiting in his truck to pick her up. 

He turns back towards the water, staring out at the darkness beyond his vision. 

His friend is right. He needs to tell Emma how he feels, and he needs to do it before it’s too late. Liam always tells him that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. With one more look out to the water, he turns to head back to Emma’s apartment, but she’s already there.

She’s a couple meters away, shivering slightly despite her warm weather gear, and it’s only once Killian turns that she seems to come back to herself. 

“What are you doing out here, love? It’s freezing.”

“Says the man out here without a scarf or a glove or a hat?”

“I wasn’t really planning on staying out long. It just sort of… happened.” 

“Killian.”

“No wait, there’s something I need to say before we go any further.” He braces himself quickly, moving towards her slowly as he starts to speak. “When I met you, I was a broken man. I'd lost what I thought was the love of my life. After that first Christmas I spent with you, I felt like maybe my heart could move on one day. You invited me to join your family and your traditions, and for the first time in a long time I felt that hope that I'd find love again. And by the next Christmas, I wanted to find that love with you.”

He stops when he’s close enough to see the way the snowflakes catch on her eyelashes, and the way she keeps brushing them out of her hair. 

“I was always afraid to say anything for fear that you’d go running from me, since I’d heard all the stories you’d told me about the men you’d been with. I figured if you kept repeating ‘I’m never dating again’ enough in my presence that I should probably heed that warning.”

Emma chuckles under her breath at that, inching her way closer to him as he does the same to her. 

“Snow told me you’ve waited a long time to find a man to give your heart to. I’m truly hoping if you’d be lost without me that it means I may be the one you’re ready to try again with?”

“I know the engraving was cheesy but it fits too well, and it’s absolutely true. I would be lost without you.” The words come out quietly, and his breath catches in his throat as her fingers find the pirate’s luck necklace she bought him a few years ago. “I know I didn’t make it easy for you to tell me the truth, but I want you to know I feel the same way. What do you say, should we make this official? Kiss again and not have either of us go running for the hills afterward?” She means for it to lighten the mood, but he can’t help but be perfectly honest with his next words. 

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. That’s all I want.”

Her responding smile is bright and she leans forward just as he does. For a moment, all they do is touch their foreheads together, savoring this moment and breathing the other in - this closeness feels different than all the other times in their shared lives. When her fingers link with his, that’s when Killian moves again, angling his head and pressing his lips to hers. 

This time is sweeter, with much more meaning behind it.

“Does this mean you aren’t moving to Portland?”

“Killian. I was never moving to Portland. My skip worked in the housing office at that building and I needed the application as a cover to get to him.”

“And you couldn’t have just told me that when I brought it up?”

“I got defensive! It’s a knee-jerk reaction.”

“You got the ‘jerk’ part right, at least.”

She points a finger at him, a wordless warning that he’s been on the receiving end of multiple times. 

“Let’s go home,” she tells him, smiling as he lifts one of her gloved hands to press his lips against it. 

It’s later when she kisses him goodnight when she tells him she took the job at the station, and he feels like this may be the best Christmas he’s ever had. 

-x-

The next Christmas, the box she unwraps is engraved, and the contents inside of it make her tear up. 

“Where you lead,” he whispers, “will you let me be by your side?”

Her response of ‘yes’ is quickly lost in the way that they kiss, and they inform David and Snow to make it Christmas dinner instead of brunch, just so they have time to get their celebrating out of the way before they tell everyone else.

The End!

[searchingwardrobes]

Someone to Watch Over Me: 12/26

 I originally planned for this to take place over the course of three chapters, but it just didn’t feel right to break it up, so I kept going. Does that make up for taking a month to update?

The part with Killian and Martha in this is based on something my husband does with our little girl. It started when she was two or three and he called her a “silly goose.” Since she was at that age where kids take everything literally, she stomped her little foot, crossed her arms, tipped her chin, and shouted with indignation, “I am not a goose.” Now it’s become a thing they do even those she’s seven and knows what the expression means. I wish you could see and hear my daughter do it because she is tiny for her age and has this high, squeaky voice, and it’s just adorable!

Summary: Emma Swan is ten when she first sees the pair of bright blue eyes watching her from the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it was just an imaginary friend, until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 23.

Rating: T

Trigger Warning: attempted rape and violence in chapter two

Words in this chapter: 2,600 and some change

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jennjenn615 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @thislassishooked @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @shireness-says @let-it-raines

 Chapter Twelve: The Man She Thinks of With Regret

 “Neal,” Emma says, voice as calm and low as she can make it, “why don’t we meet you this afternoon at Granny’s? I need to talk to him.”

“If you’d told me about him years ago, this wouldn’t be an issue!” Neal hisses back.

Emma bites the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t seen it when she was young and blinded by love, but Neal had always been this way. If a scam went south, it had always been her fault. But she was older and wiser now.

“You didn’t exactly leave a number when you took off for Canada,” she reminds him, “or wherever the hell you went.”

She feels Henry get up from the bench behind her, and she tenses. She pleads silently with her eyes for Neal to keep his mouth shut, but he’s too busy rolling his own to notice.

“That again? I did what I had to do, and you could’ve tried at least. Or where you ever going to tell me?”

“I waited two years for you in Tallahassee!”

He gives her a look of utter confusion, and Emma hates to admit how much it still hurts. “Tallahassee?”

“You don’t even remember, do you?”

“Um,” Henry pipes up at her elbow, “my bus is here, so . . . “

Emma feels relief flood through her, but it’s short lived when Neal reaches out his hand and claps it on Henry’s shoulder.

“Please, kid, wait.”

Henry turns slowly, warily. Emma puts up her hand, attempts to intervene, but Neal turns on her.

“Let me tell him!”

“Don’t yell at her!” Henry shouts, to Emma’s complete surprise.

“I don’t know what she told you,” Neal continues, even though Henry has shaken free from his grip, “but I’m not a bad guy. I . . . I didn’t know about you.”

Henry looks at Emma now with wide, almost fearful eyes. “What’s he talking about?”

“Henry - “ she begins, but Neal cuts her off.

“I’m your father.”

Henry shakes his head, backing away from both of them. “No. No! My father is dead.”

“No, Henry, I’m alive,” Neal says, patting his chest with his hand, “and I want to get to know you.”

Henry hesitantly looks Neal up and down, then turns to Emma again. “Is it true? Is he my dad?”

Emma lowers her head and whispers, “Yes.”

She glances up tentatively to see Henry’s face red and his lower lip trembling. “You lied to me? How could you?”

“I was only trying to protect you,” Emma explains, and she wishes so badly she could turn back time and change things.

“I’m so tired of people telling me that!” Henry shouts. “That’s what my mom always says about her lies, too. You’re just like her!”

Emma recoils at his tone and his words, and her heart plummets. Then Henry turns and runs in the opposite direction from the school bus, and she suspects from her son’s hunched and shaking shoulders that he’s crying.

“See what a mess you made of everything?” Neal shouts.

Emma whirls on him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Me? I told you to wait. I told you to let me tell him. But oh no, you had to do it your way.” Boldness sweeps over her, and she steps closer to him, shoving him firmly with both palms to his chest. “I’m not a teenager anymore! I won’t let you bully or manipulate me into doing everything your way!”

“What the hell are you screaming about it?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You are the most dense man I have had the mispleasure to share a bed with.”

“Oh God, you’re talking like him now too?”

“This isn’t about my husband.”

“Hook you mean? He’s not husband material, I hate to break it to you.”

“You know nothing about Killian, and I’m more concerned about my son right now than your wounded ego.” With that, she starts walking as fast as her pregnant figure will allow down the sidewalk. She winces and rubs at that same spot right below her ribcage. This kid seems to love to camp out right in that spot. Her back aches a little, too, and it suddenly occurs to her that she’s in the first week of her third trimester. Neal really picked the perfect time to come crashing back into her life.

“Hey, wait up,” Neal says as he catches up to her. She doesn’t slow down or turn to look at him, so he’s forced to talk and speed walk at the same time. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset him, okay? What do you say we call a truce for Henry’s sake?”

Emma stops and turns to face him. “Look, Neal, this whole situation is delicate. He’s just met me only to find out that I had another kid and am pregnant with a third. The woman who raised him is the Evil Queen who, as you can imagine, doesn’t like me very much. Henry’s already caught in the middle of that, and I don’t want him pulled in yet another direction.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Now that you’ve shown up, I would never in a million years try to keep Henry from you. He deserves to get to know his father. See, that’s just the thing, when you have a kid, it isn’t about you anymore. It’s the whole reason I gave him up to begin with. So if this thing is going to work, you have to make it about Henry, Neal. Not you. Not us. Not the past. Just Henry and what’s best for him. Got it?”

Neal blinks, and Emma realizes that she has a power now she didn’t at eighteen – she can make Neal Cassidy squirm. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. Neal nods, lowering his gaze in an almost humble gesture.

“Okay. I’ll shut up about the past, about Hook, everything. I’ll just focus on getting to know Henry.”

Emma lets out a long, relieved breath. “Good.”

“So where do we find him? Cause I really don’t wanna face the Evil Queen if we lost him.”

Emma manages a half smile at his joke. “Probably at his castle.”

“He has a castle?”

*****************************************************

Emma watches nervously from the swings a few feet away from Henry’s castle. She idly pushes herself back and forth gently with her foot, which is the most movement her shifted equilibrium can handle. Neal is sitting next to Henry in the same spot Emma did just a few days ago. She hopes he really listened and isn’t throwing Emma under the bus to their son. Their son – it seems so weird to say.

Neal nudges Henry in the shoulder, and the boy smiles. Then he glances Emma’s way, and her heart stutters in her chest. He hops down from the castle and heads her way, Neal hanging back a short distance behind him. Emma rises from the swing, her nerves a hard knot in her throat.

“Neal - I mean my dad,” Henry’s brow furrows as he trips over the words.

“Hey,” Emma quickly assures, “you get to decide what to call us and when, okay?”

Henry nods. “He . . . um, told me that you didn’t know where he was.”

Emma sinks down to his level, even though her lower back protests the movement. She really hopes she can get back up again.

“I honestly never thought I would see him again,” Emma tells him, “but that doesn’t excuse the lie I told you. I should have told you the truth. I just . . . I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Henry manages a tiny smile. “A lot of stuff is changing.”

She gives a wry chuckle in reply. “Yeah, that’s the truth.”

“I guess I thought, when the curse broke, we would all be I the Enchanted Forest, and life would be . . . it would be . . . “

“A fairy tale?”

Henry’s shoulders slump. “Yeah.”

Emma manages to stand upright again, wincing as her hips pop. Her face must look more contorted than she thought, because not only does Henry ask worriedly if she’s okay, but Neal rushes over.

“Uh, you’re not about to pop this thing out are you?”

Emma glowers at her ex. “No, I’m not a toaster, Neal.”

***************************************************

“He asked if you were going to pop?” Killian chuckles with one eyebrow raised.

Emma narrows her eyes at him as she grabs a pair of dark wash jeans from the display in front of her. She cocks her head at her husband as she holds them up, trying to remember his measurements from the last time they saw a tailor. She makes her best guess and shoves them into his arms.

“I honestly didn’t remember him being so . . . so . . . “ she lets her words trail off when she remembers, once again, that Killian knew Neal in another life.

“Don’t mince words with me now, Swan,” he teases, though the gentle way he brushes her hair from her face communicates how much he means the words.

“Okay . . . I didn’t remember him . . . having such a small vocabulary,” she finishes lamely.

Killian laughs freely as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “Or perhaps you’ve just grown used to my sesquipedalian ways.”

“Seriously?” Emma snorts. “How long have you been waiting for an excuse to pull that one out?”

He waggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes. She grabs his hook, and pulls him to the other side of the store where the jackets are. She finds two black leather jackets: one a simple motorcycle style, and the other with multiple zippers.

“What are those ridiculous baubles, love?” he asks, fiddling with one of the zipper tabs.

“Motorcycle jacket it is then.”

Soon she has Killian behind the curtain of the small clothing store’s only dressing room. She can see his bare feet peeking from the bottom as he peels off his leather pants. A bit of his dark hair is visible over the top. She bites her lip as she watches his billowy black shirt come up over his head and then hit the floor. She would really, really like to be assisting him, but she has a feeling it would lead to things that aren’t appropriate behind a tiny curtain in a local, small town clothing store.

“You sure your parents have everything under control?” Killian asks, his voice slightly muffled.

“It isn’t like Martha’s never been on a horse before, babe.”

“I know, but your father doesn’t exactly have practice with a three year old little girl.” Killian peeks over the curtain with an apology in his blue eyes. “Not that I would ever say such a thing to him, considering . . . “

Emma waves her hand at him. “I know you wouldn’t. Honestly, that’s why I want them to get plenty of time with her. It’s not the same, but . . . “

“I know they are cherishing every moment, love.”

Emma should be listening to Killian’s encouraging words, but instead she’s standing there with her mouth hanging open. She might be drooling, actually. He’s pulled the curtain aside, and she’s gotta say . . .

“This is a good look on you,” she tells him huskily as she comes closer and wraps her arms around his waist.

“Really?” he asks with that slight hitch to his voice he never reveals to anyone but her. The one that gives away his insecurity.

“Oh, yes,” she says, sliding her hands up the front of his chest. Her fingers skim the deep crimson vest to rest at the opened buttons of his navy-blue shirt.

Killian looks down hesitantly where her fingers are stroking his chest hair. “I notice most men of this realm don’t leave quite so many buttons undone. Perhaps I should -”

Emma silences him with a press of two fingers to his lips. “Don’t you dare even suggest such a thing, pirate.”

He grins broadly at her, then swipes his tongue salaciously across his bottom lip. “Feel that passionately about it, do you?”

She nods, batting her lashes playfully. “I do. Would you like for me to show you just how passionate I feel about it?”

The moment is shattered by a high-pitched squeal as the bell over the shop door chimes. Emma groans as she drops her head to Killian’s chest, and she feels his chuckle beneath her.

“Later,” he whispers huskily in her ear as he turns to greet their daughter. David is following behind Martha, a smile brightening his face.

“Papa!” Martha cries, looking her father up and down in surprise. “You look diff’ent.”

Killian feigns ignorance. “Do I?” He pats his chest and looks himself up and down in exaggerated confusion.

Martha giggles. “Your coat is short now.”

He swings her up to even louder squeals. “Is it?”

“Yes,” she laughs as he settles her on his hip. She turns suddenly serious, however, and cups her father’s face in her small hands. “Papa not a pirate ‘nymore?”

“Of course, I’m a pirate,” Killian tells her firmly with a wide grin. “Who says pirates have to wear long coats, silly goose?”

“I am not a goose!” Martha protests, an equally wide grin adorning her face. This is an old bit.

“Not a goose? Okay, a duckling then?”

“No, Papa!”

Killian glances over at Emma with a fond smile. “Oh, I see, your mother is a Swan, so you must be a . . . “

“Cygnet!” Martha crows, and Killian responds with a shower of kisses to her cheeks.

David clears his throat nearby, and the three of them turn his way. Emma is startled to see tears shining in his eyes. “Um, Mary Margaret is waiting at the diner.”

“Oh, right!” Emma quickly says, yanking at the tags on the clothes Killian just changed into. “Let me just, um . . . pay for this. Babe, you wanna take her on over? She’s probably starving.”

“Aye, love,” he tells her, leaning over to brush a chaste kiss to her lips, “and get me a few more pairs of these . . . what are they called?”

“Jeans,” she smiles fondly, “and I’ll get several of the shirts too.”

Killian nods and turns to leave with Martha still in his arms. Emma’s surprised when her father lingers. She tilts her head at David.

“Are you okay?”

He shocks her further when he pulls her into his arms, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head. “We missed so much with you,” he says in a choked voice. “I didn’t get to be . . . your Papa.”

Emma chokes back a sob of her own. She tries to think of something to say, but all she can do is let him hold her.

[searchingwardrobes]

Someone to Watch Over Me: Chapter 7

Summary: Emma first notices the blue eyes watching her from the crack in the door of the old wardrobe when she’s ten years old. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 26. Based on the prompt: a child is kidnapped and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.

You can catch up on earlier chapters on Ao3

Rating: T

Trigger Warning: Attempted rape and violence in chapter two (hence the “monster” not being very happy . . . )

David relishes the feel of his wife in his arms once again, tracing his fingertips down her bare shoulder and pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. Mary Margaret relaxes in his hold, coming down from their earlier bliss, her hand drifting across his chest and down his abdomen.

“Well, you surely made up for the past 28 years,” she tells him on a breathy sigh.

David chuckles, his chest puffing slightly at the praise. “Well, I do know what you like.”

She simply snuggles closer, nuzzling her nose into his neck as she mumbles in agreement. David sighs heavily, brushing his hand across her cheek.

“No,” she whispers to his unspoken question, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

David frowns. His wife had awakened, thrashing, from a nightmare. But when he went to comfort her, she had yanked him close with a hungry kiss, pulling frantically at his t shirt. It had been so long, he hadn’t protested, just allowed the passion between them to simply engulf them both. But now he feels they need to discuss her nightmare.

“Was it the burning room?”

She remains quiet for so long, he starts to think she’ll never answer. “No,” she finally says.

“Then what? We’ve always been open with each other, Snow.”

She is quiet again, until he hears low sniffling sounds. She presses her face against his chest, and he feels the wetness of her tears. He whispers endearments against her hair and rubs her back gently, and then the weeping turns to sobs. When they ebb a little, she finally speaks aloud what has been on both their minds since the curse broke.

“We should have used the flower, David. We should have gone to her. She was right there. It should have been us.”

David cups her face and kisses her tear-stained cheeks. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

******************************************************

Emma rubs her palms up and down on her leather breeches and smooths her hands over the shirt that strains against her pregnant belly. The blue leather vest will no longer button comfortably across her. The breeches are snug too, truth be told. She’s gaining more weight already with this baby than she had with Martha. She’ll have to go shopping soon. And honestly, the thought of finally wearing jeans, leggings, and t-shirts again sounds like heaven.

She takes a deep breath and raps on the door. She’s nervous coming here. First of all, she’s never needed help from anyone but Killian. Second, she isn’t used to this. Having parents she can turn to. And finally, the sun is barely coming up over the horizon. But she hasn’t been able to sleep. Not when she knows Killian is locked up in the Storybrooke jail.

Her parents open the door to the loft faster than she would have expected, and neither of them look particularly sleepy. She narrows her eyes when she notices their flushed cheeks and her mother’s tousled hair. Oh God . . . has she just interrupted . . .

“Emma!” her mother exclaims with a smile while pulling her bathrobe tighter around her middle. “Is everything all right?”

Emma shakes her head to clear it. “Um . . . no, actually. The town sheriff came and arrested Killian after we went to bed last night.”

Her father narrows his eyes as her mother gasps in concern.

“I asked Granny to stay with Martha,” Emma continues, “because I was hoping you could help? Since you’re the actual rulers of the Enchanted Forest . . . right? You can help us?”

Her mother shocks her by grabbing her and holding her tight. “Oh Emma, of course we’ll help.”

***********************************************************

For the first time since arriving in Storybrooke, Emma thinks she’s finally seeing Snow White and Prince Charming. They had first stopped at Gold’s Pawn Shop, and finding it abandoned, her parents quickly found Charming’s sword and Snow’s bow and quiver of arrows amongst the cursed belongings of the Enchanted Forest. Now Emma smiles confidently as she marches behind them into the Storybrooke Jail. Sheriff Graham Humbert has a much different look on his face this morning than he did the night before. Emma’s surprised to see him standing in front of the bars the cell. Her husband is leaning casually on the other side of them, as if the two had been chatting amiably. When the sheriff sees Emma’s parents, he quickly bows.

“Your majesties,” he says.

“Graham Humbert,” Snow White commands in a regal voice, “release my son-in-law this instant! His crimes were against the crown of Misthaven – me – not the Evil Queen. And since he’s wed my daughter, he now not only has a full pardon but is Prince of Misthaven.”

Emma doesn’t miss the cocky grin and wink her husband throws her way, and she chuckles at his cheekiness. Then Killian clears his throat.

“You honor me, your majesties,” he tells her parents, “but the good sheriff is not to blame for my arrest. He had no choice in the matter.”

Emma scowls as she crosses her arms over her chest. “No choice? Seriously?”

“Yes your highness,” Graham says, bowing to her as well, “I . . . don’t have my heart.”

Emma lets her arms fall to her sides as she catches her husband’s eye. He nodes grimly. Emma’s face instantly softens and she steps forward to take the sheriff’s hands. He almost can’t bring himself to meet her eyes, but when he does, she gives him a soft smile.

“The Evil Queen and her mother the Queen of Hearts have controlled the wills of many,” Emma tells him gently, wanting him to know they understand.

Graham looks at her with wetness in his eyes, shaking his head. “You have no idea the things she made me do. The ways she . . . used me as her plaything.” He averts his eyes once again, shame washing over him. “The worst part was . . . during the curse . . . I didn’t know she had it. My heart. All I knew was that I couldn’t tell her no. Even though I wanted to.”

Snow steps forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? Because you let me go free.”

Graham shakes his head. “Please don’t blame yourself. If I had it to do over again, I would make the same choice.”

“The only one to blame,” Killian speaks up, “is the Evil Queen.”

“Help me get my heart back,” Graham says, squeezing Emma’s hands, “and I’ll let your husband go.”

Emma’s eyes cut to her husband’s. “But . . . why can’t you let him go now? Did Regina order you not to open his cell?”

“Emma,” Killian says to her gently, “it was my idea to stay here until you restore his heart. If Regina finds out you’re trying to help him, she could kill him before you find his heart. But if I stay here, she won’t be suspicious.”

Emma’s brow furrows as she steps up to the bars of the cell. “But Killian,” she whispers, “who knows what she might do to you? And Rumple is out there somewhere –“

“It’s what hero’s do, love,” he cuts her off, pressing his forehead to hers through the bars, and threading their fingers together. “And remember what I always say?”

Emma chuckles dryly. “You’re a survivor, I know. But I can’t help worry that you test fate a little too often.”

Killian places a kiss to her hand, “I won’t be in here long. Graham thinks he knows where she keeps her hearts.”

“It’s a memory,” Graham pipes up. He rubs his forehead. “I remember this symbol. I’ve seen a similar one in the graveyard on the Mills family tomb.”

“He’s right,” a voice behind them pipes up. Emma turns to see Henry standing there, his storybook clutched in his hands.

“Henry!” she scolds. “Your mother doesn’t want you visiting me. I don’t want you in any danger.”

“I won’t stay with her!” Henry argues as Emma comes to cup his face in her hands. “She can’t make me!” He looks over her shoulder at Killian in the cell. “I can stay here with Hook. My mom won’t hurt him if I’m here.”

Emma sighs as she ruffles his hair, glancing up at her parents.

“He has a point,” David concedes.

Emma bites her lip. “Okay, kid. You can be Killian’s guard. Now what’s this about the symbol on the family tomb? What are we looking for?”

Henry grins brightly as he opens his storybook.

Tagging this story's number one fan @kmomof4

 Am I supposed to tag anyone else? I can't remember! Sorry!

[searchingwardrobes]

Someone to Watch Over Me: Chapter Six

I’ll be honest, I was starting to second guess continuing this fic. I felt like I had lost the tone that I loved so much in the first two chapters. So, before working on this chapter, I went back and read the beginning of the story again. It had this whimsy and simplicity to it that I had sort of lost. So, I kind of apologize for chapters 3-5? I feel like I got back to the heart of this story with chapter six – I was really, really pleased with it. CS is actually apart for most of it, but I love Killian in this chapter. Anyway, I hope you all like it too! You can catch up on previous chapters on Ao3

Summary: Emma Swan is ten when she first sees the pair of bright blue eyes watching her from the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it’s an imaginary friend until she sees those eyes again at 16. Then at 26, those eyes change her life forever. (Based on the following prompt: A child is kidnapped and the monster under the bed is not happy about it.)

Rating: T

Words in this chapter: 1,600

Trigger Warning: Attempted rape in chapter two

There wouldn't even be a chapter six without @kmomof4 and also thanks to @teamhook and @artistic-writer for letting me bounce ideas off them.

  Chapter Six: My Emma

Ten year old Killian Jones can’t seem to get comfortable in his hammock tonight. The ship creaks and sways, men snore loudly all around him, and the air just has this smell that clogs his nose and makes him gag. But normally, none of this keeps him from sleeping. Usually, his days are so brutally exhausting, that sleep comes swiftly. Even last week when he was forced to sleep on his stomach because of the bloody lashes criss-crossing his back, sleep had claimed him easily.

But not tonight.

He shifts again, his hammock swinging with the motion. In his new position, he sees something in the hold that is completely out of place: a large, wooden wardrobe. No one would keep such a nice piece of furniture in the damp, dark hold. Killian furrows his brow in confusion. Surely that wasn’t there when he first went to bed.

“Liam, Li-am!” he whispers, poking at the hammock above him. Liam just mumbles in his sleep, something only partially intelligible along the lines of leave me alone, Killy. Exasperated, Killian huffs and swings his scrawny legs over the edge of his hammock. He tiptoes across the wet wooden boards, his hand trembling as he reaches up to grasp the knob on the door of the wardrobe. He gasps when he hears voices, female voices, on the other side. He glances behind him, but when he sees that no one else is awake, he crawls up inside the wardrobe. Instead of a back, there is another set of doors. Killian is comforted to still see the ship’s hold through the open door he just crawled through, so he turns back around and pushes slowly on the second set of doors, opening them only a crack.

He sees a bedroom, lit with soft light from a bedside lamp. A little girl about his age, with blonde hair is being tucked into bed by a soft, wrinkled old woman with a gentle smile. Killian watches, fascinated, as the woman asks for a hug. He’s been surrounded by nothing but rough, loud men for so long, that he yearns to receive a hug for himself from someone so soft and warm. The little girl smiles as the woman embraces her, her eyes shut tight as she relishes the hug. But then her eyes, the color of seafoam, open and he quickly shuts the wardrobe. His heart pounds in his chest as he hears the little girl ask the woman – her grandmother? – about the large piece of furniture. The girl’s voice wobbles, as if she’s frightened, and Killian hopes she didn’t see him.

He thinks that maybe he should go back to his hammock, but he can’t get those sea green eyes out of his mind, nor the way the girl’s hair had shimmered like gold from the lamplight. He’s never thought long on any lass, or found any of them pretty (not that he’s seen that many, spending most of his days aboard a ship), but this one is different. So finally, he musters up the courage to open the door a crack once more. This time, those green eyes lock on his, and the girl gasps and dives under the covers. He frowns as he pulls the door shut once more. He hadn’t meant to frighten her.

The next morning, he thinks he’ll talk to Liam about the wardrobe and the little girl on the other side. But when his brother teasingly upends his hammock, depositing him unceremoniously upon the floor, Killian rolls over to find the wardrobe is gone.

*******************************************************

Killian Jones starts up suddenly, the dream causing the sensation of falling just as his ten year old self fell out of his hammock. He’s disoriented at first, both from the dream and his surroundings. And now he remembers: he’s been arrested. He’s in a cell in the Storybrooke jail.

“I’m impressed you could sleep so soundly on that cot.”

Killian blinks the sleep from his eyes to see a dark haired woman in gray pants with a matching jacket, a strand of pearls around her neck, on the other side of the bars. He has to shake his head and squint before he realizes who she is.

“The Evil Queen?”

She chuckles, brushing imaginary lint from her pants. “Here I’m simply Mayor Mills. Or Regina. Whichever you prefer.”

Killian gives her his best disarming smile. “Regina will do I suppose. And as for this cot, well, I’ve had worse accommodations.” He smirks at her for good measure as he puts his arms behind his head and lounges casually on the prison cot. He’d feel much more at ease in his swagger with his hook, but Regina doesn’t have to know that.

“You’re not even going to ask me why I’ve got you locked up in here?”

Killian closes his eyes, pretending to relax. “Your sheriff fellow rattled off some quite familiar charges. Pillaging, plundering, the usual.”

“Actually,” Regina purrs, using that seductive tone that she used on him back when they were allies, “I have a job for you.”

“Not interested.”

“Even if it helps you skin your crocodile?”

Killian sits up at that, opening his eyes to glare. “I repeat: not interested.”

“I can help you get his dagger,” Regina tells him, her voice betraying a slight tremor, “and you can finally, after all these centuries, have your revenge.”

Killian comes right up to the bars, so close he’s almost nose to nose with the Evil Queen. “I gave that up long ago. I’m a husband now, a father. I have no interest in becoming the next Dark One, thank you very much.”

He blinks in surprise when Regina laughs sarcastically. “Oh please, just because you knocked up Emma Swan doesn’t mean you’ve changed. You’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face.”

Killian’s jaw clenches. “Don’t talk about Emma that way. And yes, I’ve changed. True love does that to a person.”

Regina scoffs, her eyes widening, “True love?”

“How do you think the curse broke?” Killian can’t help arching a brow and curling his lips in a half smile.

Regina recoils, “It can’t be true.”

“Ah, but it is. So do what you wish to me. I won’t align myself with you again.”

Regina grasps one of the bars in a white-knuckled grip as she leans forward, a look of disgust on her face, “You’re a fool. Love is weakness.”

“That’s what your mother thought, and then my wife defeated her.”

Regina blinked rapidly. “My – my mother? But you –“

Killian chuckled, pacing to the back of the cell, where he leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms, “I was supposed to kill her for you, I know. But she made me a better offer, and then . . . well, my wife killed her anyway, so it all came out in the wash.”

Killian smiles widely, relishing in Regina’s fury as she shakes the bars of his cell. He glances down at his fingernails, feigning indifference. “So why this desperation to kill Rumple?”

“You should be desperate to see him dead too, you fool!” Regina snaps, “I wonder how you’d feel if he came in and found you all locked up?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He watches Regina as she avoids eye contact, and suddenly he thinks he knows. “It’s Belle, isn’t it? Have you had her locked up all these years?”

“Had being the operative word,” she bites out.

Killian tilts his head back and laughs. “Well Regina, I think you’re a bit higher on Rumple’s list of enemies right now, so . . .” he saunters back over to the cot and makes himself comfortable, “I’ll just wait here for my wife to rescue me.” He throws a cocky grin at Regina for good measure.

The queen rolls her eyes. “You’re pathetic; as bad as the Charmings.”

Killian pushes up on his elbows. “I’m warning you Regina, don’t underestimate my Emma. You have no idea what kind of power she possesses.”

Regina’s nostrils flare as she shouts back, “And you and your pathetic little princess have no idea what I’m capable of!” And with that threat, she disappears in a cloud of smoke.

*******************************************************

A man who looks to be in his late thirties pushes his way off the crowded New York subway. He drowns out the cacophony of the city by sticking earbuds in his ears and turning up the music on his cell phone. He dashes across the street to his modest apartment, stopping in the lobby to get his mail before heading up to the third floor. He hums as he unlocks the door, then deposits the mail on the desk by the window. He frowns, noticing that he left the window open. He reaches up to shut it, but the window sticks. He pushes on it harder, losing his grip on his cell phone. He grabs for it, but it tumbles out anyway, breaking into pieces as it hits the pavement three floor below. He yanks out the useless earbuds as he curses under his breath.

Suddenly, a pigeon alights on his windowsill. He moves to shoo it away, but pauses when he sees a postcard clutched in its talons. Leaving the card on the sill, it coos and flies away. He picks up the card, which has a picture of a clock tower and the words “Welcome to Storybrooke” on the front. He turns it over, his eyes widening as he reads the note scrawled there.

“She did it. She broke the curse. You need to come, Baelfire. You have a son.”

[searchingwardrobes]

Reblogging because tumblr ate the cut on mobile as well as my tags.

@kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @bethacaciakay @shireness-says @teamhook @snowbellewells @snidgetsafan @jennjenn615 @kday426 @delirious-latenight-laughs

Someone to Watch Over Me: Chapter 9

Summary: Emma Swan is ten years old when she sees the bright blue eyes staring back at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 23. Based on the prompt: “A child is kidnapped and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.”

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Attempted rape and violence in chapter two; it is discussed again in this chapter.

Can catch up on

Ao3

Captain Charming ahead folks!!

Words in this chapter: 3,000 + (I put a cut, but tumblr may eat it … )

Chapter 9: The Man Behind the Hook

David had heard tales of the fearsome Captain Hook back in the Enchanted Forest, but since the man had arrived in Storybrooke, he has to admit that all he has seen is a doting father and loving husband. Not that David’s just going to trust the man. He’s still a pirate, and Emma’s still his little girl. Now, as David watches Hook stride across the deck in front of his crew, he can see a bit of the fierceness he had heard tales about. His crew is a dirty, ill-reputable looking lot, but they stand at attention as much as they can in front of their captain, listening dutifully to his words.

“I won’t lie to you, men,” Hook tells them, “the Dark One is out there, and though the protection spell Emma put on this ship is both hiding us from view and keeping out dark magic, I don’t put it past The Crocodile to find a way around it. So I leave it up to you whether you wish to stay on board or head to the inn here in town. Granny Lucas, the proprietress, has assured me she can find space for all of you, and she’ll gladly accept your coin.”

He stops, clasping his hand and hook behind his back. “I’ve also been told that winter comes fast and fierce to this place called Maine, and since it’s late October, that means we have work to do readying the ship. Get to work, men. I’ll be gathering belongings for my family.”

David is surprised when a few of the men give sharp salutes. All chorus a hearty, “Aye, Cap’n!” Then they are scattering to their duties, clearly a well-oiled crew. One of them, a young man in his twenties with light brown hair, approaches Killian and the two embrace with firm claps to the back. Killian turns to David with a smile upon his face.

“David, I’d like you to meet my little brother, Liam.”

The younger man chuckles as he clasps David’s hand, “I prefer younger brother, actually,” then he winks at Hook, “but it’s an old joke.”

David greets Liam warmly with a smile, but he’s thrown a bit. Coming to a pirate ship, he hadn’t expected to see an organized crew or meet family members of the Captain.

Keep reading

[jennjenn615]

This story stole my heart from the first chapter. I never thought about Belle with Graham before this but you've opened my eyes to them as a couple. And I loved this. Amazing and beautifully written!!!!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!!

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight ~ the end

Here it is at long last – the conclusion to my @cssns​19 werewolf saga! Never would I have thought it would take me so long to complete, but after two years of work and two complete MCs in this world, I honestly think I was having a hard time saying goodbye to these versions of all of them. (Particularly this Graham and this Belle, who I honestly didn’t expect to steal so much of my affection.) Still, I’m sorry those who have been following this had to wait so long! Thanks you so much for reading and for sticking with me on this venture. Enjoy the happy ending (beginning)! :)

Plus, kudos and thanks once more to @branlovestowrite​ for this gorgeous fic cover, that I STILL can’t stop staring at!!! <3

This full story from the beginning can be found here or on AO3.  As can its predecessor “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)” from @cssns​18 - here and on AO3 or ff.net.

Summary: A werewolf au and alternate season two and beyond fic from the @cssns​ event.  Should probably read the first story in the series, “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)”, or it might be a bit confusing in places. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting….

~ epilogue: two very happy beginnings

After all the trouble and fear which had preceded their birth, and the risk their mother had endured to deliver them, there was nothimg but bliss surrounding Belle and Graham’s newborns once they arrived. Both were peaceful and content babies, seeming fit and healthy and perfectly adorable in every way - no furry toes, lupine ears, or anything else which one might have wondered about with such unusual origins and accelerated gestation. All of their organs and extremities were fully formed and working well; an immense relief to their mother and father, who were already desperately enamored of them, and the friends and makeshift family who had gathered around them in support.

In fact, the only real hint at their supernatural heritage was that both already had adorable ringlets of a deep russet brown, much the same color as Belle’s, though the curls were all Graham at his most disheveled, when fingers had been carded through it repeatedly. Both had the most adorable, cherubic chubby-cheeked faces that anyone who looked on them would agree they had ever seen, and they had charmed nearly every nurse in the ward where Belle had been moved for observation during her recovery, with barely more than a blink, a gurgle, or the single wave of a pudgey little hand. It seemed - much to the dismay of their numerous new admirers - that Belle would almost certainly be cleared to leave soon, as she seemed to be mending remarkably well.

In the meantime, however, Graham had taken a full paternity leave from the station in order to fuss over her protectively to his own satisfaction, promoting Emma to acting sheriff for the time being, and her dad and her wolf man both as deputies. Belle had tried to reason that it wasn’t necessary, that she was in good hands, and that she already felt much better, but he was having none of it; intent on being right by her side and at her beck and call with an almost desperate physical need. He come so close to losing her - her and the two precious pups he already loved more than life. He could not fathom how he would have survived if Belle had not. Even for someone who had spent much of his life in a solitary, isolated existence, loneliness still threatened to choke and suffocate him at the thought of losing her; the one person who had ever eased his burden and truly felt his pain - because, in many ways, it had been her own as well. The very idea of her presence fading from the world was overwhelming.

On rounding the corner into the hallway for his love’s room, he could hear raised voices and raucous laughter. Brow furrowing immediately, and hand rather damagingly tightening its clutch on the bag of chocolate croissants and takeaway cup of hot tea Belle had wheedled him into fetching for her, Graham’s hackles rose unbidden as he doubled his pace.  Granted, the uproar sounded pleasant enough, but it wasn’t what he had expected to encounter upon his return, and Belle needed her rest, not well-meaning visitors overexciting her and wearing her out. Though he knew he was being ridiculous and bordering on driving Belle crazy with his caution and concern for her health, he couldn’t do much to stop the unbidden reactions that kept rising within him either. 

Keep reading

[cssns]

Tonight we have the final chapter of @snowbellewells Face to Face (In the Broad Daylight), concluding her saga begun with Run to Me (In the Dead of Night) for cssns18! Enjoy everyone and be sure to give her and her artist @branlovestowrite all the love they deserve for such a beautiful fic and art!!!

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight ~ the end

Here it is at long last – the conclusion to my @cssns​19 werewolf saga! Never would I have thought it would take me so long to complete, but after two years of work and two complete MCs in this world, I honestly think I was having a hard time saying goodbye to these versions of all of them. (Particularly this Graham and this Belle, who I honestly didn’t expect to steal so much of my affection.) Still, I’m sorry those who have been following this had to wait so long! Thanks you so much for reading and for sticking with me on this venture. Enjoy the happy ending (beginning)! :)

Plus, kudos and thanks once more to @branlovestowrite​ for this gorgeous fic cover, that I STILL can’t stop staring at!!! <3

This full story from the beginning can be found here or on AO3.  As can its predecessor “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)” from @cssns​18 - here and on AO3 or ff.net.

Summary: A werewolf au and alternate season two and beyond fic from the @cssns​ event.  Should probably read the first story in the series, “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)”, or it might be a bit confusing in places. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting….

~ epilogue: two very happy beginnings

After all the trouble and fear which had preceded their birth, and the risk their mother had endured to deliver them, there was nothimg but bliss surrounding Belle and Graham’s newborns once they arrived. Both were peaceful and content babies, seeming fit and healthy and perfectly adorable in every way - no furry toes, lupine ears, or anything else which one might have wondered about with such unusual origins and accelerated gestation. All of their organs and extremities were fully formed and working well; an immense relief to their mother and father, who were already desperately enamored of them, and the friends and makeshift family who had gathered around them in support.

In fact, the only real hint at their supernatural heritage was that both already had adorable ringlets of a deep russet brown, much the same color as Belle’s, though the curls were all Graham at his most disheveled, when fingers had been carded through it repeatedly. Both had the most adorable, cherubic chubby-cheeked faces that anyone who looked on them would agree they had ever seen, and they had charmed nearly every nurse in the ward where Belle had been moved for observation during her recovery, with barely more than a blink, a gurgle, or the single wave of a pudgey little hand. It seemed - much to the dismay of their numerous new admirers - that Belle would almost certainly be cleared to leave soon, as she seemed to be mending remarkably well.

In the meantime, however, Graham had taken a full paternity leave from the station in order to fuss over her protectively to his own satisfaction, promoting Emma to acting sheriff for the time being, and her dad and her wolf man both as deputies. Belle had tried to reason that it wasn’t necessary, that she was in good hands, and that she already felt much better, but he was having none of it; intent on being right by her side and at her beck and call with an almost desperate physical need. He come so close to losing her - her and the two precious pups he already loved more than life. He could not fathom how he would have survived if Belle had not. Even for someone who had spent much of his life in a solitary, isolated existence, loneliness still threatened to choke and suffocate him at the thought of losing her; the one person who had ever eased his burden and truly felt his pain - because, in many ways, it had been her own as well. The very idea of her presence fading from the world was overwhelming.

On rounding the corner into the hallway for his love’s room, he could hear raised voices and raucous laughter. Brow furrowing immediately, and hand rather damagingly tightening its clutch on the bag of chocolate croissants and takeaway cup of hot tea Belle had wheedled him into fetching for her, Graham’s hackles rose unbidden as he doubled his pace.  Granted, the uproar sounded pleasant enough, but it wasn’t what he had expected to encounter upon his return, and Belle needed her rest, not well-meaning visitors overexciting her and wearing her out. Though he knew he was being ridiculous and bordering on driving Belle crazy with his caution and concern for her health, he couldn’t do much to stop the unbidden reactions that kept rising within him either. 

Keep reading

[kmomof4]

Ohhhhh I’m so sad to see this incredible saga end!!! But everyone getting all the happiness they soooo deserved was absolutely PRICELESS and sooooo worth the wait!!! Thank you so much Marta for bringing us this WONDERFUL fic!!!

Face to Face in the Broad Daylight ~ the end

Here it is at long last – the conclusion to my @cssns​19 werewolf saga! Never would I have thought it would take me so long to complete, but after two years of work and two complete MCs in this world, I honestly think I was having a hard time saying goodbye to these versions of all of them. (Particularly this Graham and this Belle, who I honestly didn’t expect to steal so much of my affection.) Still, I’m sorry those who have been following this had to wait so long! Thanks you so much for reading and for sticking with me on this venture. Enjoy the happy ending (beginning)! :)

Plus, kudos and thanks once more to @branlovestowrite​ for this gorgeous fic cover, that I STILL can’t stop staring at!!! <3

This full story from the beginning can be found here or on AO3.  As can its predecessor “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)” from @cssns​18 - here and on AO3 or ff.net.

Summary: A werewolf au and alternate season two and beyond fic from the @cssns​ event.  Should probably read the first story in the series, “Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)”, or it might be a bit confusing in places. This second story in the same universe partially exists just because I wanted to revisit these couples and enjoy a bit more of their fluffy happily ever afters. However, we may also see them get into some new surprises and challenges, and of course we need to see if Rumplestiltskin is still under control or back to his usual scheming and plotting….

~ epilogue: two very happy beginnings

After all the trouble and fear which had preceded their birth, and the risk their mother had endured to deliver them, there was nothimg but bliss surrounding Belle and Graham’s newborns once they arrived. Both were peaceful and content babies, seeming fit and healthy and perfectly adorable in every way - no furry toes, lupine ears, or anything else which one might have wondered about with such unusual origins and accelerated gestation. All of their organs and extremities were fully formed and working well; an immense relief to their mother and father, who were already desperately enamored of them, and the friends and makeshift family who had gathered around them in support.

In fact, the only real hint at their supernatural heritage was that both already had adorable ringlets of a deep russet brown, much the same color as Belle’s, though the curls were all Graham at his most disheveled, when fingers had been carded through it repeatedly. Both had the most adorable, cherubic chubby-cheeked faces that anyone who looked on them would agree they had ever seen, and they had charmed nearly every nurse in the ward where Belle had been moved for observation during her recovery, with barely more than a blink, a gurgle, or the single wave of a pudgey little hand. It seemed - much to the dismay of their numerous new admirers - that Belle would almost certainly be cleared to leave soon, as she seemed to be mending remarkably well.

In the meantime, however, Graham had taken a full paternity leave from the station in order to fuss over her protectively to his own satisfaction, promoting Emma to acting sheriff for the time being, and her dad and her wolf man both as deputies. Belle had tried to reason that it wasn’t necessary, that she was in good hands, and that she already felt much better, but he was having none of it; intent on being right by her side and at her beck and call with an almost desperate physical need. He come so close to losing her - her and the two precious pups he already loved more than life. He could not fathom how he would have survived if Belle had not. Even for someone who had spent much of his life in a solitary, isolated existence, loneliness still threatened to choke and suffocate him at the thought of losing her; the one person who had ever eased his burden and truly felt his pain - because, in many ways, it had been her own as well. The very idea of her presence fading from the world was overwhelming.

On rounding the corner into the hallway for his love’s room, he could hear raised voices and raucous laughter. Brow furrowing immediately, and hand rather damagingly tightening its clutch on the bag of chocolate croissants and takeaway cup of hot tea Belle had wheedled him into fetching for her, Graham’s hackles rose unbidden as he doubled his pace.  Granted, the uproar sounded pleasant enough, but it wasn’t what he had expected to encounter upon his return, and Belle needed her rest, not well-meaning visitors overexciting her and wearing her out. Though he knew he was being ridiculous and bordering on driving Belle crazy with his caution and concern for her health, he couldn’t do much to stop the unbidden reactions that kept rising within him either. 

Keep reading

[kmomof4]

Rumplestiltskin has pissed off the WRONG SAVIOR!!!! Can’t wait for more!!!

Someone to Watch Over Me: 14/24

Finally, another update of this fic! This story was giving me SO much trouble! Finally, I ended up scrapping everything I had planned from this chapter on and starting over. Remember when I said Regina would stay full on Evil Queen in this? Sorry, but the muse went in a different direction. Still, I’m excited about where this will go.

I also sincerely apologize for chapter 13. I must have been really tired or something when I posted it because, good Lord! there were a lot of errors! I went in and edited it, and I am so embarrassed it has been sitting here for all the world to see, full of typos and verb tense shifts. So sorry about that!

You know that saying “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”? I’ve personally always thought it should be “Hell hath no fury like a mama bear when you mess with her cub.” Hence this chapter title …

Summary: Emma Swan is ten when she first sees the pair of bright blue eyes through the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those same eyes again at 16 and 23. Inspired by this prompt: a child is kidnapped, and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.

Rating: T

Trigger warning: attempted rape and violence in chapter two (violence because the “monster” gets pissed)

Words: about 2,000 in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @kday426 @thislassishooked @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @shireness-says (Let me know if anyone wants to be removed/added to the tagging list for this fic.)

Chapter 14: Hell Hath No Fury

Killian gently stops Emma as she races out of Granny’s with his hook around her elbow. She sighs as she spins around. They’ve had many good-natured, teasing arguments about who’s faster, and normally she could outrun him no matter what he says, but these days there’s a definite waddle to her gait, much as she’s loathe to admit it.

“Now don’t give me that look, love,” he says with a gentle smile.

“We can’t just sit around while the Dark One plots his revenge!”

“I know that,” he tells her softly as he steps closer, “better than anyone, but even with your powerful magic it isn’t wise to go up against the bloody crocodile alone.”

“I can’t believe I was so naïve,” Emma mumbles against Killian’s chest as he draws her close.

Keep reading

[jennjenn615]

You better watch out Neal and Dark One cause you've got not one but two mama bears coming for you! And lets add in Captain Hook who doesn't like either of you that much so I would do everything I could too hide!!!!!

Love this!!!!!!! Was very excited to see this update!!!! Thank you!!!!! Amazing!!!!

Someone to Watch Over Me: 14/24

Finally, another update of this fic! This story was giving me SO much trouble! Finally, I ended up scrapping everything I had planned from this chapter on and starting over. Remember when I said Regina would stay full on Evil Queen in this? Sorry, but the muse went in a different direction. Still, I’m excited about where this will go.

I also sincerely apologize for chapter 13. I must have been really tired or something when I posted it because, good Lord! there were a lot of errors! I went in and edited it, and I am so embarrassed it has been sitting here for all the world to see, full of typos and verb tense shifts. So sorry about that!

You know that saying “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”? I’ve personally always thought it should be “Hell hath no fury like a mama bear when you mess with her cub.” Hence this chapter title …

Summary: Emma Swan is ten when she first sees the pair of bright blue eyes through the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those same eyes again at 16 and 23. Inspired by this prompt: a child is kidnapped, and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.

Rating: T

Trigger warning: attempted rape and violence in chapter two (violence because the “monster” gets pissed)

Words: about 2,000 in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @kday426 @thislassishooked @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @shireness-says (Let me know if anyone wants to be removed/added to the tagging list for this fic.)

Chapter 14: Hell Hath No Fury

Killian gently stops Emma as she races out of Granny’s with his hook around her elbow. She sighs as she spins around. They’ve had many good-natured, teasing arguments about who’s faster, and normally she could outrun him no matter what he says, but these days there’s a definite waddle to her gait, much as she’s loathe to admit it.

“Now don’t give me that look, love,” he says with a gentle smile.

“We can’t just sit around while the Dark One plots his revenge!”

“I know that,” he tells her softly as he steps closer, “better than anyone, but even with your powerful magic it isn’t wise to go up against the bloody crocodile alone.”

“I can’t believe I was so naïve,” Emma mumbles against Killian’s chest as he draws her close.

Keep reading

[kmomof4]

Ohhhh such a great chapter!!!! Neal is an ass, but at least he straightened up... and Martha is absolutely the cutest... and my Daddy Charming heart... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️Can’t wait for more of this!!!

Someone to Watch Over Me: 12/26

I originally planned for this to take place over the course of three chapters, but it just didn’t feel right to break it up, so I kept going. Does that make up for taking a month to update?

The part with Killian and Martha in this is based on something my husband does with our little girl. It started when she was two or three and he called her a “silly goose.” Since she was at that age where kids take everything literally, she stomped her little foot, crossed her arms, tipped her chin, and shouted with indignation, “I am not a goose.” Now it’s become a thing they do even those she’s seven and knows what the expression means. I wish you could see and hear my daughter do it because she is tiny for her age and has this high, squeaky voice, and it’s just adorable!

Summary: Emma Swan is ten when she first sees the pair of bright blue eyes watching her from the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it was just an imaginary friend, until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 23.

Rating: T

Trigger Warning: attempted rape and violence in chapter two

Words in this chapter: 2,600 and some change

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jennjenn615 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @thislassishooked @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @shireness-says @let-it-raines

Chapter Twelve: The Man She Thinks of With Regret

“Neal,” Emma says, voice as calm and low as she can make it, “why don’t we meet you this afternoon at Granny’s? I need to talk to him.”

“If you’d told me about him years ago, this wouldn’t be an issue!” Neal hisses back.

Emma bites the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t seen it when she was young and blinded by love, but Neal had always been this way. If a scam went south, it had always been her fault. But she was older and wiser now.

“You didn’t exactly leave a number when you took off for Canada,” she reminds him, “or wherever the hell you went.”

She feels Henry get up from the bench behind her, and she tenses. She pleads silently with her eyes for Neal to keep his mouth shut, but he’s too busy rolling his own to notice.

“That again? I did what I had to do, and you could’ve tried at least. Or where you ever going to tell me?”

“I waited two years for you in Tallahassee!”

He gives her a look of utter confusion, and Emma hates to admit how much it still hurts. “Tallahassee?”

“You don’t even remember, do you?”

Keep reading

[jennjenn615]

Awwwwww this is just a perfect update. While with the exception of Neal. Ugh he really needs to go away. Who does he think he is? Oh wait he's the Dark Ones son and that makes him special. Jerk jerk jerk jerk jerk jerk. Sorry just needed to get that out.

Emma and Charming were so sweet at the end!!!!!

Love this so so so so so so so so so so much!!!!

Someone to Watch Over Me: 12/26

I originally planned for this to take place over the course of three chapters, but it just didn’t feel right to break it up, so I kept going. Does that make up for taking a month to update?

The part with Killian and Martha in this is based on something my husband does with our little girl. It started when she was two or three and he called her a “silly goose.” Since she was at that age where kids take everything literally, she stomped her little foot, crossed her arms, tipped her chin, and shouted with indignation, “I am not a goose.” Now it’s become a thing they do even those she’s seven and knows what the expression means. I wish you could see and hear my daughter do it because she is tiny for her age and has this high, squeaky voice, and it’s just adorable!

Summary: Emma Swan is ten when she first sees the pair of bright blue eyes watching her from the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it was just an imaginary friend, until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 23.

Rating: T

Trigger Warning: attempted rape and violence in chapter two

Words in this chapter: 2,600 and some change

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jennjenn615 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @thislassishooked @kday426 @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @vvbooklady1256 @mythologicalmango @shireness-says @let-it-raines

Chapter Twelve: The Man She Thinks of With Regret

“Neal,” Emma says, voice as calm and low as she can make it, “why don’t we meet you this afternoon at Granny’s? I need to talk to him.”

“If you’d told me about him years ago, this wouldn’t be an issue!” Neal hisses back.

Emma bites the inside of her cheek. She hadn’t seen it when she was young and blinded by love, but Neal had always been this way. If a scam went south, it had always been her fault. But she was older and wiser now.

“You didn’t exactly leave a number when you took off for Canada,” she reminds him, “or wherever the hell you went.”

She feels Henry get up from the bench behind her, and she tenses. She pleads silently with her eyes for Neal to keep his mouth shut, but he’s too busy rolling his own to notice.

“That again? I did what I had to do, and you could’ve tried at least. Or where you ever going to tell me?”

“I waited two years for you in Tallahassee!”

He gives her a look of utter confusion, and Emma hates to admit how much it still hurts. “Tallahassee?”

“You don’t even remember, do you?”

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[kmomof4]

New chapter!!!! Oh my goodness!!! Love this fic sooo much!!! Thank you Melanie for continuing it!!! In honor of Captain Charming Friday, I give you some serious as well as precious Captain Charming moments! This chapter was soooo SOOOOOO BEAUTIFUL!!! Enjoy!

Someone to Watch Over Me: Chapter 9

Summary: Emma Swan is ten years old when she sees the bright blue eyes staring back at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 23. Based on the prompt: “A child is kidnapped and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.”

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Attempted rape and violence in chapter two; it is discussed again in this chapter.

Can catch up on

Ao3

Captain Charming ahead folks!!

Words in this chapter: 3,000 + (I put a cut, but tumblr may eat it … )

Chapter 9: The Man Behind the Hook

David had heard tales of the fearsome Captain Hook back in the Enchanted Forest, but since the man had arrived in Storybrooke, he has to admit that all he has seen is a doting father and loving husband. Not that David’s just going to trust the man. He’s still a pirate, and Emma’s still his little girl. Now, as David watches Hook stride across the deck in front of his crew, he can see a bit of the fierceness he had heard tales about. His crew is a dirty, ill-reputable looking lot, but they stand at attention as much as they can in front of their captain, listening dutifully to his words.

“I won’t lie to you, men,” Hook tells them, “the Dark One is out there, and though the protection spell Emma put on this ship is both hiding us from view and keeping out dark magic, I don’t put it past The Crocodile to find a way around it. So I leave it up to you whether you wish to stay on board or head to the inn here in town. Granny Lucas, the proprietress, has assured me she can find space for all of you, and she’ll gladly accept your coin.”

He stops, clasping his hand and hook behind his back. “I’ve also been told that winter comes fast and fierce to this place called Maine, and since it’s late October, that means we have work to do readying the ship. Get to work, men. I’ll be gathering belongings for my family.”

David is surprised when a few of the men give sharp salutes. All chorus a hearty, “Aye, Cap’n!” Then they are scattering to their duties, clearly a well-oiled crew. One of them, a young man in his twenties with light brown hair, approaches Killian and the two embrace with firm claps to the back. Killian turns to David with a smile upon his face.

“David, I’d like you to meet my little brother, Liam.”

The younger man chuckles as he clasps David’s hand, “I prefer younger brother, actually,” then he winks at Hook, “but it’s an old joke.”

David greets Liam warmly with a smile, but he’s thrown a bit. Coming to a pirate ship, he hadn’t expected to see an organized crew or meet family members of the Captain.

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[kmomof4]

New chapter!!! And you’d better look out Regina! Can’t wait for more!!!

Someone to Watch Over Me: Chapter 7

Summary: Emma first notices the blue eyes watching her from the crack in the door of the old wardrobe when she’s ten years old. She thinks it’s just an imaginary friend until she sees those eyes again at 16 and 26. Based on the prompt: a child is kidnapped and the monster under the bed isn’t happy about it.

You can catch up on earlier chapters on Ao3

Rating: T

Trigger Warning: Attempted rape and violence in chapter two (hence the “monster” not being very happy … )

David relishes the feel of his wife in his arms once again, tracing his fingertips down her bare shoulder and pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. Mary Margaret relaxes in his hold, coming down from their earlier bliss, her hand drifting across his chest and down his abdomen.

“Well, you surely made up for the past 28 years,” she tells him on a breathy sigh.

David chuckles, his chest puffing slightly at the praise. “Well, I do know what you like.”

She simply snuggles closer, nuzzling her nose into his neck as she mumbles in agreement. David sighs heavily, brushing his hand across her cheek.

“No,” she whispers to his unspoken question, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

David frowns. His wife had awakened, thrashing, from a nightmare. But when he went to comfort her, she had yanked him close with a hungry kiss, pulling frantically at his t shirt. It had been so long, he hadn’t protested, just allowed the passion between them to simply engulf them both. But now he feels they need to discuss her nightmare.

“Was it the burning room?”

She remains quiet for so long, he starts to think she’ll never answer. “No,” she finally says.

“Then what? We’ve always been open with each other, Snow.”

She is quiet again, until he hears low sniffling sounds. She presses her face against his chest, and he feels the wetness of her tears. He whispers endearments against her hair and rubs her back gently, and then the weeping turns to sobs. When they ebb a little, she finally speaks aloud what has been on both their minds since the curse broke.

“We should have used the flower, David. We should have gone to her. She was right there. It should have been us.”

David cups her face and kisses her tear-stained cheeks. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

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