#emma and henry deep breathe into the unknown

[stardust-pond]

Mercy Street | S2E4 Southern Mercy

↳ “You have not lived unless you've quarreled in Morse code.”

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Into the Unknown With You”

Another one shot from my assorted collection “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts” - this one playing with some of the ideas I would rather have seen in 6x10 and 6x11, it certainly diverges from canon at that point...

Summary: As Emma searches for a way back home from the Wish Realm, help comes from a surprisingly welcome source...

{One more Author’s Note: The “awfully big adventure” bit is a tiny nod to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.}

Can also be found on AO3 or ff.net 

“Into the Unknown with You”

by: @snowbellewells 

‘No, no, no!’ Emma’s mind reeled horrifically as she stared at the spot where only moments ago the portal had been whirling, her way home to her son and her pirate wide open. She wanted to scream; it couldn’t just be gone, and yet, a second too much hesitation, and the chance was lost. She looked to Regina anxiously, her fists clenched so tightly she felt the impressions her nails cut into her palms. It was all she could do not to rail at Regina, this whole twisted world, and her own bad luck.

‘What now?!?’ she wanted to demand, wanted to shake her former nemesis turned tentative friend, but one glimpse at the other woman’s stunned, disbelieving face staring across the shoreline at her presumed dead True Love, and Emma knew it would be a lost cause. Having stood beside a grave in grateful stupefaction at her own love’s miraculous return to life not so long ago, Emma couldn’t find the heart to remind Regina just yet that she had spent the last day preaching that none of their surroundings or those they encountered in the Wish Realm were real, and hurry her along. She too found herself blinking dazedly at this other – very convincing – version of Robin Hood for a few moments.

Even if her heart was still crying out for her home and her family, for Henry’s soft hair tickling her nose when she placed a kiss to the top of his head, and Killian’s arms enfolding her, she didn’t know where to go in this topsy-turvy version of the homeland she had never actually lived in, and so she had to wait – more impatiently by the minute – until one of these two, either queen or thief, snapped out of their spell and led the way…

As it turned out, Robin Hood was not the sort of outlaw who would truly do harm to two ladies passing through his territory. He wouldn’t have even made to steal their jewels and furs once the same trance that had overcome Regina seemed to strike him mute as well, but Regina offered him a pouch of coins that had been strapped to her waist and a ruby ring, pressing it into his calloused palm with a quirked smile and the assurance that “she insisted, she was much more partial to his cause than he knew”.

Emma wanted to snort at the ridiculous understatement those words were, and she only barely managed to hold back a roll of her eyes, which she sensed the thief saw but let slide with a conspiratorial wink.

Before she could make an argument for trying to catch up to Gold – or Rumplestiltskin here, she supposed – or ask where they were going to find another bean, it was evening, they were entering a forest in the gathering dark, and soon they had been welcomed to sit around a roaring fire with Robin’s motley crew, and even been offered the ale and venison passed around the circle as if they were part of the merry band.

“Now,” the archer began, seated beside Regina, his boy nodding drowsily on his lap. He looked around her to meet Emma’s gaze head on. “You must be thinking that I owe you an apology. Clearly you were about to leave this place, and because of me, you missed your ride.”

She tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, not wanting to get them kicked out in the cold, or to lay blame on him for something he couldn’t have known, but instead, to her own mortification, she felt hot tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. Though her sight grew glassy, Emma refused to let them fall. “So,” she tried for flippant, even if it fell horribly flat, “does that mean you know where we could get a replacement bean and want to help us get it?”

“Actually, Princess Emma,” Robin winked, a knowing sort of mischief in his eye, “I just might.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The following morning dawned misty and cool, but fair, and Robin greeted Emma at the simmering coals of the previous night’s campfire with a welcoming grin, Regina at his side on the stump they used for a seat, looking as soft and at ease as Emma had ever seen her, her head resting on his strong shoulder seemingly still half asleep. She and Regina had talked at length the night before, and at long last Emma had accepted that Henry’s adoptive mother wasn’t returning with her yet. “I know he isn’t the same Robin, that this whole place is built on a whim, but I’m not losing him again,” she had whispered vehemently. “There has to be another way to get back…one that he could take as well…if he wanted to…” The emotion welling in Regina’s dark eyes had been raw enough that Emma finally consented to go on without further fighting to change her mind, only giving a nod in affirmation when Regina had asked, “You’ll explain to Henry? Tell him I mean to return as soon as we both can?”

“Ready, your Highness?” the sandy-haired outlaw asked, breaking into Emma’s recent memories once more and looking down at her from where he now stood at the ready. “We should make the harbor by noon, if we set out now.”

“The harbor?” Emma asked breathlessly, dazed for a moment by what this could mean. Her heartbeat kicked up in both anticipation and dread. Surely he wasn’t here too…was he?

“Yes,” Robin answered her spoken question with an amiable nod as he kissed the back of Regina’s hand in farewell and turned to head off with Emma on his heels. “I happen to know a pirate with whom I sometimes trade my less than lawfully acquired goods. He might have just the sort of thing you need to return home…”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The sound of gulls crying and wheeling overhead and the creak and groan of the wooden docks as they reached the edge of the shore town and neared the sparkling blue harbor was enough to take Emma’s breath away. Robin took a step forward to lead her down the docks, already offering to make introductions, but Emma stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

There before them, as recognizable as always, was the Jolly Roger, bobbing proudly at anchor. Though most might be intimidated by the sight, Emma drew in the first full breath she’d had since remembering herself in this strange realm – as if she had gotten her first real glimpse of home at last. He might still be the vengeful Captain Hook in this reality, but somehow she wasn’t afraid. He would never truly hurt her – and she only wanted to be at his side again without further delay.

Reassuring Robin that she could take it from there, Emma bid him goodbye. Though he looked uncertain, the archer took her at her word and left her with his best wishes. If she clutched his hand a moment longer and a bit tighter than would be normal and bid him be safe a little too fervently – well, she didn’t have to explain herself to anyone here…

At her first step onto the gangplank, a shudder of recognition ran through her, as if the vessel itself was welcoming her back aboard, shivers skittering along her spine. At first glance, the ship seemed deserted, her crew perhaps gathering supplies or unwinding at the nearest tavern, but the air around her wavered, charged suddenly, letting her know she was not alone. Emma felt even before she heard heavy footfalls on the planks or that deep, commanding voice at her back, asking who went there, that she had not gone undetected by the ship’s captain.

Turning, her eyes found him, hungrily drinking in the details; altered, but still without doubt the man she loved. The dark hair was windblown and unruly, practically begging for her fingers to delve into its soft abundance and brush the fringe back off his forehead. Though the strands might be shaggier and generously shot through with grey, it made him no less attractive to her starving eyes. In fact, she only wanted to stare at him all the more, to catalogue every difference, trace the deeper crow’s feet around his eyes and the added lines on his forehead. Those fathomless blue eyes were lined so liberally with the kohl she hadn’t seen him use for some time in their modern Storybrooke life that she almost wanted to chuckle at the effect until she registered the way the blue of his gaze also looked paler – as if washed out by too many tears shed alone and without comfort, or dulled by pain held back because he couldn’t afford to let it show.

Brandishing his moniker, and that dastardly, flirtatious mask he had long since let drop around her, to full effect, Captain Hook stepped well into her personal space. “And who might you be?” he questioned, breath warm on the shell of her ear as he leaned in, hook lifting the heavy rope of her golden braid and tucking it back over her shoulder. It was an achingly familiar gesture and he stood much too close for calm comfort, sending her pulse fluttering again, and yet no recognition lit his gaze as he studied her; the fond devotion she had come to rely on more than she could say was utterly absent, making her heart ache and crack in her chest.

“Princess Emma of Misthaven,” she answered as sturdily as she could, raising her chin and meeting his eye with as much confidence as she could muster. “I had hoped to speak to you on a delicate matter of some importance.”

“A delicate matter, is it?” he asked, his enunciation and the way his tongue caressed his words seductively had not been altered or diminished in the slightest, whatever else had changed. He stood back to his full height, fingers in his waistband, hips thrust forward and looking every bit as sinfully irresistible as he ever did, complete with that wide-open, chest-exposing red vest she had witnessed once in their trip to the past through Zelena’s portal. If she hadn’t known him so well, she might have been fooled by the bravado, but knowing his heart as only a True Love could, she saw the emptiness behind the lascivious look, the pain within the façade – the proper, honorable lieutenant he had been, hating the persona his course had forced him to adopt. Even as he ran his tongue across his lower lip, letting his eyes trace her curves from head to toe almost lewdly, she could see the regret clouding the pupils and the wistful longing – as if he could sense what might have been.

Unable to stop herself, Emma reached forward impulsively, grasping both his hook and hand tightly as she spoke, “Yes, very…but just maybe…I was meant to find you. Maybe you’re the only one who would believe me.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Another hour found them below deck in his cabin, seated at the scratched, weathered wooden table which had served him in his lonely meals for ages, Emma’s hand still clinging to his hook where it rested on his thigh, but the other reaching up tentatively to trace that faded scar she knew so well beneath his eye. Hook – though more and more her Killian with every passing moment – had scooted closer to her on the roughhewn bench, blinking in awe as she saw hope returning to his face. He appeared both afraid to believe her words, but also desperate for them to be true.

“So you’re telling me that all of this around us – this whole life – is an illusion?” he asked haltingly, not daring to move his eyes from her face, as though he thought she might disappear as quickly as she had come to him.

“Well, yeah, basically,” she tried to explain. “Or more like…it’s a possibility that didn’t actually come true. There’s this v-villain in my home, in the real timeline that I come from, who made a wish that reset things, and I was sucked into it. I have a son, family and friends, a-and another version of you…who’s my True Love…there missing me. And I have to get back to them.”

“There’s another me?” he breathed, and where anyone else would have been skeptical, he looked merely stunned, wanting. “And…we’re…together?”

“Yeah, we are,” she whispered, laying a hand over his rapidly beating heart and drawing comfort from its rhythm. She already felt stronger, more certain, even with this iteration of her pirate. Her watery smile quirked up into a bit of a smirk at one corner, “And don’t worry, he’s still devilishly handsome.”

Her captain’s eyes fell to their joined hand and hook in his lap, huffing out a laugh at her words. “More so than I, I’d wager,” he murmured.

Emma hummed under her breath, reaching out to run her fingers along a grey streak in his longer hair. “I don’t know about that,” she offered. “There’s something pretty appealing about this model, grey hair and all.”

“You flatter me, Milady,” he teased, that voice still a sinful purr rumbling from his chest as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to its back. Still, emotion welled up beneath the flirtation, making his magnetic gaze all the harder for her to escape. She was blinking, nonplussed and floundering for some audible response, when he straightened and pulled her to her feet with him. “Enough lollygagging then! I’ll prepare the old girl to set sail. It’s time we got you back where you belong!”

For a moment, Emma was stunned anew. This full-on piratical version of her True Love, who didn’t really even know her and had no reason to do anything she said, had not only chosen to believe her story, but was going out of his way to help her – just as he had ever since he turned his ship around to take her to Neverland. The lump in her throat was almost too much to speak around, but Emma managed to croak out, “You really would give anything to help me, wouldn’t you?” even as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Aye,” he affirmed, looking a bit like he was marveling at that fact himself. “I am not sure I fully understand, nor can I explain it to you, but I sense that I would – that I am almost compelled – to help you in any world or time you would appear to me.”

“Thank you,” was all she could really say in response, her wondering smile nearly blinding him with its brilliance.

“Come then,” he offered her his arm, his speech all business again, even while the pointed tips of his ear flushed, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude and praise. “Above deck, and we’ll be off. I know someone who deals in nigh impossible to procure objects.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Standing beside him at the helm just a few short hours later, wind in her hair and the salt spray on her face, it struck Emma that though she was desperate to get home, to make sure her son, her family, and her Killian were alright, she didn’t want to simply abandon this pirate captain beside her. She didn’t know what would happen to him, if he would find something to live for, something to be part of, or if she was dooming him to his quiet desperation…even if he might simply vanish into nothingness with the rest of this ill-fated wish. She didn’t know what happened next, to be completely honest. Laying a hand on his forearm, she gazed up into his face, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what becomes of you, or this realm, when I leave here and go home,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if you all just go on like it never happened, if you cease to exist, if you wander here aimless forever…I just…I don’t know…”

Covering her hand with his, he guided the ship with no more than his hook rested capably on the wheel. “Worry not, Princess,” was his confident response, fervent resolve painted over his strong, careworn features. “We shall still set things right, as they should be. Whatever comes after this – infinity or oblivion – will be an awfully big adventure.”

Tagging: @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @laschatzi​ @jennjenn615​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @thislassishooked​ @winterbaby89​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @hollyethecurious​ @artistic-writer​ @stahlop​ @elizabeethan​ @donteattheappleshook​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @apiratewhopines​ @lfh1226-linda​ @xsajx​ @ineffablecolors​ @drowned-dreamer​ @thisonesatellite​ @kday426​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @xhookswenchx​ @hookedonapirate​ @blowmiakisscolin​ 

[zaharadessert]

Coming Soon

Summary:

Chaos reigned supreme in Central Park yesterday, when the Mayor’s foster son was kidnapped in broad daylight under the supposedly watchful eye of hired staff. The mayors office has yet to make an official statement…

When Henry is kidnapped while Regina should have been taking care of him Emma is furious and resolves to do whatever it takes to get her son back. But will the CARD Agent sent by the FBI to help handle the case be more of a distraction than a help, or can he manage to be just enough of both to make this work?

Rating: Mature

Length: 5 Chapters, approximately 27k.

Tagging: @jrob64 @xhookswenchx @kmomof4​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @teamhook​​

As always, let me know if you’d like me to add you to my taglist for future fics :)

Snippet under the line… Enjoy…

“Let’s shut the door, shall we?” Robin asked, heading round behind Emma to shut the doors. For a long moment no one said anything or even really moved as he did so. “Madam Mayor, I thought you’d tried to contact the boy’s biological mother?” Robin said as he moved back to one of the chairs in front of the desk, taking a seat as though thoroughly unflustered by the whole thing.

Regina huffed, and Emma’s gaze finally left the dark-haired Agent and moved to Regina. She didn’t need to say anything, her fury was written all over her face.

“I said I’d handle it. This is obviously about me, they aren’t going to snatch Henry over her,” she said dismissively, and Emma bristled.

“So, they’ve called with a ransom already? Asking you to pay it? So, what is it about, Madam Mayor? You’re pushing an initiative that someone doesn’t like so they took Henry to get you to go back on it? And you say that my choice of job is a risk to him?!” Emma was so, so angry and had moved forward, closing the gap between the two women without even realising that she had.

For a moment it looked like Emma Swan had actually managed to stun Regina Mills into silence.

Until she scoffed and rolled her eyes, her gaze moving to the window.

“Mayor Mills, Miss Swan, please, sit down,” Robin said, trying not to look amused.

Regina glared at him but settled herself imperiously in her seat.

Emma took a deep breath, but instead of sitting, she turned away from the desk, to pace the width of the office.

She looked agitated, and Killian was wondering if it was anything beyond a mother worrying about her son who’d been kidnapped the day before and she’d only just found out.

“Miss Swan?” he encouraged. If she had something to say, he’d like to hear it.

“So, we haven’t heard anything? No one has called, no demands?” She looked at Killian, then Robin, then Regina. “What happened?”

Killian thought he could see her bottom lip trembling and he understood the ferocity of the anger she’d displayed since she’d walked in. She was using her anger to mask the fear she was feeling, knowing her son had been taken by persons unknown for who knew what reason.

Emma was struggling to hold it together, and she knew it. She could feel Agent Jones’ gaze on her, but it wasn’t pitying, it was understanding. She fisted her hands at her sides, feeling her nails biting into her skin.

Regina sighed.

“Ariel took Henry to the park because I had something come up last minute. It was only when I got to the park and found Ariel, frantic and hysterical, that I realised it was a deliberate distraction. So, of course this is about me, they made sure we were separated when they took him.”

“And you didn’t call me when you know it’s my job to find people? I could have helped before the cops could. I know more people who would have been willing to talk to me before they’d talk to a cop or an FBI Agent. Fucking hell, Regina, what were you thinking?”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you, Miss Swan,” she snapped, clearly on the defensive.

“No, but you will have to justify your actions the next time we get to a custody hearing, ‘cause you can bet your Armani covered ass…” Emma stopped talking as she felt the vibration in her pocket, followed quickly by the trill of Henry’s ring tone. Her eyes widened and, in her haste, she fumbled with her phone, hands shaking as she shared a significant look with Agent Jones and held the phone up to her ear.

[captcas]

hoax

exile by capthamm

your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in

part five of capthamm’s captain swan’s folklore read on ao3 / read the ao3 series

Grounding herself, Emma fists her hands until her fingers irritate the road burn coating her palms. Regina just got off the phone with Cruella DeVil and Ursula. Cruella and Ursula.

What the fuck?  

Killian arrives and she immediately feels the cool touch of his hook rest on her slightly exposed hip. She’s not sure when this became second nature but she’s glad it has— the consistency grounding her further.

Storybrooke. Chernabog. Town line. Cruella. Ursula. Killian. Hook.

Captain Hook.

She’s dating Captain Hook while co-parenting with the Evil Queen who's trying to decide if she should give Cruella DeVil and Ursula a chance at redemption.

What. the. fuck.

She doesn’t have to deal with these looming realizations as often as she did when the curse broke (the first time), but every once in a while something throws her into a tailspin and she has a hard time finding her way out.

If it weren’t for Killian she’d bet her life savings that Storybrooke was all a delusion and she was sitting in a hospital somewhere compensating for years of home hopping and abandonment.

But then there’s Killian.

There’s been three moments in which Emma knew she wasn’t living a lie.

The first was when Henry came back to her after biting the poisoned turnover. The moment he hugged her… that moment was so visceral, she knew it had to be real.

The second was when Neal died, when she felt a wave of feeling wash over her too great to comprehend. More sobering than any event in her life before, it was a direct reminder nothing is permanent.

The third is every moment she’s spent with Killian since the moment she’s met him. Maybe that’s cheating, shoving hundreds of moments into one, but since she’s met Killian everything has changed.

She was standing in the middle of Cora’s attack, heartless corpses scattered at her feet and she felt another loop setting in, then there was Killian. And so their story goes. Every moment of what the fuck and you’ve got to be kidding me, Killian’s been there— whether on the right side or not is here nor there.

She grasps his hand tightly, drawing a small “x” with her thumb near his wrist and she notices him nod slightly before addressing their ragtag fairytale army, “Emma and I are going to head to Granny’s for some food and then we’ll meet Belle at the library to research our new winged friend.” Everyone nods enthusiastically and leaps into action, David delegating the rest of the group out as Killian squeezes Emma’s hand and leads her away from the chaos.

Once they’re out of ear shot, Killian speaks, “Are you alright, love?”

She loves him. It’s weird, the moment you realize something so profound, but she guesses the small moments are as good as any. “I will be. It’s just… a lot.”

“Aye, Swan. I’m sure it would be for anyone not of our land, but you’ve made great strides in making your own place in this world.” He pulls her in tighter and Emma breathes in his welcoming scent. She always envisioned pirates smelling awful, but Killian is probably the cleanest person she knows. Pirates. She takes a deep breath before diving too deep into that thought.

“Thanks.” She smiles up at him, and she can tell Killian knows how much she means it despite her lack of flowery sentiments he is so versed in. He kisses her temple and she welcomes the silence.

She could handle Elsa making her way into town. Emma was on a level playing field with everyone else, backstories practically nonexistent until Anna entered the picture, but with the arrival of Cruella and Ursula, something shifted in everyone.

There’s history there Emma isn’t a part of and no one is being very forward when it comes to clueing her in. Killian’s holding something back, but she assumes it’s out of shame and knows he’ll tell her on his own time– she didn’t fall in love with a man unscathed; dismal pasts are just part of the package. What’s killing her are her parents, both clearly hiding some dark past with these villains. It’s resurfacing all the anxiety she felt the day the first curse broke. Everyone was so elated, families reunited and memories restored, but Emma felt exactly the same– her relief Henry was going to be alright aside. Snow White hugged her daughter for the first time while Emma hugged her friend Mary Margaret for what felt like the hundredth time.

The playing field was anything but level.

The Enchanted Forest was only a further extension of that, Emma constantly on edge yet feeling 6 steps behind. When she got back to Storybrooke, she felt herself level out— at least she knew how to use the restroom here.

Emma hates to say it, but besides the fact Henry was kidnapped, Neverland was a welcome challenge. Killian warned them the island was greatly unknown even to those who reside there permanently. The playing field leveled itself out completely as everyone seemed just as clueless as she was.

Don’t even get her started on her magic.

Henry has had that book memorized since she met him, the stories practically his now despite him not being alive for the majority of them. He’s always on pace with the rest of the group, knowing references to past dalliances and squabbles without so much as turning a page. She’s glad he’s not feeling this level of anxiousness, but wishes beyond all belief that she could take some of that photographic fairytale memory for herself.

It’s the squeeze of Killian’s hand that brings her back to the present and allows her to walk up the steps to Granny’s without tripping and making an ass of herself. Killian places their order and leans in close to tell Ruby something privately. Before Emma can wonder what he’s said, Killian is leading her up the back steps towards his room and unlocking the door.

“I thought you could use some familiar territory to decompress, love.”

Emma loves him. It’s the only thing that’s convinced her this isn’t some dream that is only minutes from being over. It’s what keeps her fighting tooth and nail for some semblance of normal in her new life which is decidedly anything but. It’s what grounds her when there are literal flying demons from hell trying to take her into the sky.

It’s the only thing that’s made perfect sense.

“Thank you, Killian.” He smiles and begins to turn away, not picking up the true gravity of her appreciation. Emma grabs his wrist and he turns back towards her, worry etched into his brow.

“Are you sure you’re alright, love?” She should answer, but finds herself too busy searching his eyes for any hint that this is a dream.

Emma’s known she loves him for a while now, since the moment they returned from the past– the monumental nature of his trade for her family’s safety winning her heart completely. She doesn’t dare tell him that though– she fears the moment she does is the moment she wakes up back in Boston… alone. Emma hasn’t been alone since the moment Henry found her, and while there are moments she wishes for time to sort out her thoughts, she relishes every moment with her family. At this point, she’s not sure she’d know how to be alone anymore and the thought of leaving this reality for the truth scares her everyday.

Killian’s the only one who seems to remind her this is as real as it gets.

His thumb brushes softly across her wrist where he’s slowly taken control. As though he could read her mind, Killian nods ever-so-slightly, a comforting smile breaking across his face. She squeezes his hand, purposely placing one of his rings in an uncomfortable position on her hand in a futile attempt to wake herself up before she jumps to the point of no return.

Emma finds his eyes again– somehow her anchor even though they’re as blue as the sea. She used to drown in them, the emotions she felt overtaking her as they acted as x-rays into her soul, but as time moved on all she found was comfort. Taking a deep breath, she decides she doesn’t want to live on this edge anymore. If this is all a hoax, she wants to know now before the pain of waking would be more excruciating than she already imagines it would be, but also before he tells her first, and the fear of the unknown stops her from returning the sentiment. Emma aches to tell him, so that she can finally know if the fairytale (literally) she’s been living is truly her life.

So she does.

“I love you.”

As Emma expected, he surges in for a kiss, his actions speaking louder than her three words -even long ago. He comes up for air, and for a moment, Emma refuses to open her eyes, sure the dream will have changed, or worse she’ll have woken up all together, but then that moment passes. Killian’s forehead is hot against hers as she feels the smiles lines grow across it. He breathes out and his breath graces her lips softly. In a seemingly impossible task, Killian closes what little distance remains between them. Emma moves in to kiss him once more, but he leans back slightly to stop her. It’s then, on instinct alone, that Emma finally opens her eyes. As she gazes into an endless expanse of blue, a weight lifts from her chest– a weight left long ago when she turned to find cops in that alleyway instead of Neal. She never realized how heavy it was, not until the moment it was gone– or if not gone, shared.

“I love you too, Swan.”

He brings her back to the here and now in an instant and she’s home.

His voice– light and full of the kind of happiness she truly thought was reserved for the best of dreams– buries itself deep into her mind, creating a sort of tattoo on the memories that lived there. Sure, she’d been told I love you many times, by many people, but the words that leave Killian’s mouth feel permanent.

They feel real.

She rushes forward to kiss him, once again. The electricity radiating through her body, the feel of his hands laced along her lower back, and the smile forming  against her lips finally convince her that, while her life may be part fairytale, it’s undoubtedly as real as any of the others in Henry’s ancient book.

. . . 

@mariakov81​ @lfh1226-linda​ @kmomof4​ @superchocovian​ @pirateherokillian​ @teamhook​ @nikkiemms​

[kmomof4]

Chosen, Protected, & Saved        Ch.1

We’re back again with more of Chosen, Protected, & Saved for the @captainswanmoviemarathon​, y’all!!! Now to find out what happened to Henry and figure out how to get him back! I hope y'all enjoy this! Thank you so much for coming along on this ride with me!! I’d love to know what you think!!

All the love and hugs to @profdanglaisstuff​ and @hollyethecurious​ for their grammar goddess-ness-eses and all their help in the crafting of this story!! I’ll be forever indebted to both of these lovely ladies!!! *MWAH* 😘 

Summary: A little boy with the Heart of the Truest Believer. Demonic forces will stop at nothing to possess it. It’s up to Killian Jones, PI to find him and save him before it’s too late.

Rating: T

Words: 7288 of almost 18K

Tags: Inspired by The Golden Child, Kidnapping, Magic, Minor Character Death, Temporary Major Character Death, True Loves Kiss

ao3 link Prologue on Tumblr

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Ch. 1

Emma Swan came down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen for her morning coffee fix. She expected to find six year old Henry watching PBS Kids since he was usually up before her. She glanced into the den only to see the room was empty and the tv was off.

Puzzled, she turned on the coffee maker and headed back upstairs to see if he’d actually slept in for once. The bathroom door was open, and the light was off, so he definitely wasn’t in there. She opened the door to his bedroom. It took a moment before her brain caught up to what she was seeing.  

Henry was gone.

Everything in his room was in its place except his comforter. It wasn’t unheard of for Henry to wake in the night and go back to sleep on the sofa in the den. But if he had done that, he’d still be awake by now and have the tv on. Then she saw the  large blood stain near his bed and her heart rate went into overdrive. Nausea rose in her throat and she swallowed hard trying to hold down the bile.

She struggled to control her breathing as panic threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel small traces of what felt like Henry’s magic still hovering in the room. What was she going to do? Her breathing hitched as tears filled her eyes. Henry was gone. There was blood on his floor. The sheriff had no experience with kidnappings and would do little more than make eyes at her instead of actually investigating and finding Henry. Her mind turned to her best friend and teacher, Regina Mills. She’d be able to track Henry and find out who’d taken him. She found Henry’s favorite scarf that he wore all year round no matter how hot it got. She looked around one more time, making sure she wasn’t missing anything, before she teleported herself to Regina’s.

~*~*~

“Regina. Regina! Wake up! He’s gone!”

Regina swam up from the sweet abyss of sleep at the panic and urgency she heard in her friend’s voice.

“What are you do. . . Who’s gone,” she mumbled, groggily.

“Henry,” Emma said. That brought Regina’s muddled thoughts into razor sharp clarity.

“What?” she snapped.

Emma took a deep breath, still trying to bring her breathing under control. Speaking as calmly and coherently as she could, she pushed the panic back down.

“Henry is missing. He’s usually up before I am, so when I came down this morning and didn’t see him anywhere, I went to his bedroom. He was gone, his comforter was gone, and there was blood on the floor.” Her voice hitched as the panic tried to come back up.

Regina swung out of bed and grabbed her robe, tying it around her. “Was there any sign of forced entry? Either in his bedroom or anywhere else in the house?” She led the way down to the kitchen where she turned on the coffee maker. She knew she was gonna need the caffeine boost.

“Not that I saw,” Emma replied. “When I realized he was gone, I came straight here. But there was some residual magic in his room. It felt like his though.”

“Did you bring anything of his that I can track him with?”

Emma nodded and held up Henry’s favorite gray and red striped scarf. It had been knitted by Granny, the proprietor of a little diner in town, and for whatever reason, Henry had latched onto it almost like a security blanket. Regina was almost surprised that he didn’t actually sleep with it.

The Swans had arrived in Storybrooke about five years ago. It was about a year after moving to the magical town that Emma’s magic had awoken and Regina had begun training her in its use. In all her years of study and practice, she’d never seen the kind of raw power that she saw in Emma Swan. She had the potential to be an extremely powerful practitioner of white magic. So when Henry’s abilities manifested (his Heart of the Truest Believer produced an actual X-Wing fighter in their backyard after seeing the latest Star Wars movie), she was hardly surprised and began training him as well. It had only been a little over a year and most of their sessions consisted of self-defense, since she was well aware that the forces of evil in this world would be very interested in him and his abilities. Emma had insisted, and she had agreed, that age five was a little young to start him on actual, practical magic. Unfortunately, her training apparently hadn’t helped him last night.

After getting her coffee and leading the way into her study, she opened the cabinet where her tracking potion was kept. Emma handed her the scarf and Regina was suddenly in a different place. She stood in a hallway with a door in front her with the name Killian Jones, Private Investigator emblazoned on the frosted glass. She turned to her left and saw a very handsome man with black hair, blue eyes, and dark scruff tinged with ginger coming down the hallway. He pulled out his key and opened the door in front of her. Even in the vision she could feel the buzz of magic around him. Her eyes narrowed. To her knowledge, there were only pockets of magical places in this world, and this place was not one of them. How could he have such powerful magic in the Land Without Magic? A long forgotten memory tickled the edges of her mind, but she concentrated on the man in front of her instead of trying to grasp at it.

As Killian Jones disappeared through the door, Regina found herself back in her home again. She shook her head and looked at Emma.

“You saw something didn’t you?” Emma asked, grabbing her arm.  “Did you see Henry? Where is he?” Regina could see the panic rising up again in her eyes.

“Yes, I saw something,” she began, “No, it wasn’t Henry.”

The despair on Emma’s face nearly brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to her friend. “But I did see someone who, I think, I’m pretty sure, can help.” She set down her potion, opened her laptop, and typed “Killian Jones, Private Investigator” into the search bar. In seconds she had a website, telephone number, and address. Boston. Just two hours away. Perfect. After printing out directions, she handed them to Emma. “Here. In case GPS goes screwy. Find Killian Jones.” She nodded in her certainty. “He’ll help us find Henry.”

Emma sputtered. “But who is he? Why him? What do you know about him?”

“Nothing yet. Beyond the fact that I saw him when I touched Henry’s scarf. But I’ve got an inkling. I need to do some research to make 100% sure.”

“Okay, but what about tracking him? Can you still use his scarf to see where he is?”

“Not likely,” Regina said. “Magic has rules. And when you’re dealing with non-magical items, they can only be used once. Since the scarf is not magic and it’s shown me this man, I won’t be able to use it again to find him. Killian Jones is our best bet. He was shown to me for a reason. He will find Henry.”

Emma took a deep breath. She wasn’t quite ready to trust this unknown man to find her son, but she trusted Regina implicitly. If Regina said this Killian Jones would help, then she believed her.

Emma’s chin trembled and her eyes filled with tears. Regina reached out and drew her friend into a comforting hug. “We have to find him, Regina,” Emma whispered. “I can’t live without him.”

“I know, Emma.” Regina drew back and looked her in the eyes. “And we will find him. Let’s get back to his room, you call and make an appointment with Jones. He’ll be fine, Emma. Even if Henry is unable to use his magic right now, the protection spell that I’ve placed over him will hold.” Emma nodded her head and wiped the tears from her face before Regina waved her hand and transported them both to Henry’s bedroom.

Emma stepped outside to call Killian Jones as Regina looked around. The sizable bloodstain on the carpet was alarming, but when she bent and held her hand out over it, she could discern no magical properties in the blood. Whoever it belonged to had no magic of their own. Closing her eyes and opening her Seer’s eye, Regina could see the threads of magic remaining in the room. Henry’s was a bright green, almost chartreuse. While much darker and fainter, she also found evidence of her old teacher, the Dark One.

Reaching out and touching the strands of magic she found, the events from last night filled her mind. She saw two boys appear in the room in a cloud of grey smoke.  Boys that she recognized from her time under the Dark One’s tutelage and who hadn’t aged a single day. She couldn’t remember their names, though. As the shorter one reached the bed, she saw Henry’s hand reach out and grab him. She couldn’t help the surge of pride she felt that he was able to do that small bit to protect himself. The boy turned to his companion and tackled him, but only moments later, he was laying on the carpet, blood pouring out of the stab wound the other one had left. She watched as the other boy leapt onto the bed and the struggle that ensued. She saw the boy get ahold of Henry’s wrist and slap a black cuff on him before all three of them were enveloped in another cloud of smoke. She released a resigned sigh and opened her eyes.

Emma returned. “I have a one-thirty appointment.”

“Good,” Regina replied. “I was right. The Dark One has taken him. Or rather, the Dark One’s errand boys took him. The blood isn’t Henry’s.” Emma let out a sigh of relief at that news. “It was the Dark One’s magic that transported the kidnappers both to and from. The magic you felt was definitely Henry’s. He used it to defend himself against one of the kidnappers. Henry’s magic is purely good, so a touch is all it took for the kidnapper to become a protector instead. Unfortunately, that may have been his death sentence. All three of them were taken back once Henry was subdued. I don’t expect the Dark One would be that concerned about saving the boy that got stabbed, so it’s likely that he’s dead.” Regina fell silent, her face grim.

Emma’s face mirrored her concern, but the evidence of her tears were gone. “Okay, I’ve got to get going here in a bit. Is there anything else I need to know?”

“There’s no need to tell him anything about magic,” Regina mused, “He’s not aware of his own, so chances are mentioning it would give him every reason to refuse to help us. Just tell him that he comes very highly recommended and that money is no object.”

“What if he asks about the police?”

“You tell him the truth. That they are involved but there are extenuating circumstances that you don’t trust in Ozman’s hands. He carries a torch for you and you need someone who will actually take this seriously instead of see it as an opportunity to try and weasel themselves into your affections, as despicable as that is.” Emma rolled her eyes at the quite accurate assessment of her would be suitor. “Bring Jones here in the morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Emma interrupted, “Why tomorrow? Why not today? Every minute we’re not looking, is another minute that the Dark One can use to hurt Henry!”

“Emma,” she countered, grabbing her by the shoulders, “It will take some time away from Storybrooke before the protection spell I have on him will fade enough for the Dark One to do anything to him. Three, four days at least. Don’t worry.” Regina stared hard at Emma. “We will get him back and he will be fine,” she assured her. “I’ll be spending today researching my hunch and hopefully, getting a bead on where he was taken and how to get him back.”

Emma’s restless anxiety was not fully assuaged, but it was significantly lessened by Regina’s certainty. She nodded. “Okay. Keep me updated and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emma nodded before the friends embraced and she spun on her heel and left the room.

~*~*~

Killian Jones looked up from the remains of his lunch as his secretary, Ariel, poked her head in.

“Your one-thirty is here, Killian.”

“Thanks, Ariel. Just give me a minute.”

She withdrew as he gathered the debris on the desk in front of him and dumped it all in the trash. Standing up, he ran his fingers through his hair and stepped through to the outer office.

A goddess with nearly waist length blonde hair and green eyes looked up at him. He had to shake his head slightly and snap his mouth shut to keep from looking like a total moron in front of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He held his hand out to her and she rose and placed her own hand in his. He couldn’t help but run his thumb over her knuckles as he introduced himself.

“Killian Jones, at your service.”

Her eyes widened and she was completely captivated by the startling blue of his. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jones. I’m Emma Swan.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Killian Jones was easily the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

“Please, come in. And call me Killian,” he encouraged, dropping her hand and placing his on the small of her back to lead her into his office.

She shook her head slightly as she felt her cheeks heat. The heat from his hand spread over her back, bringing a soothing warmth with it. She normally would have balked at a virtual stranger touching her like that, but somehow she knew that it was a gesture of protection and guidance, not control. That small distinction further confirmed the decision to seek him out. But, she couldn’t afford to be attracted to him. She had a purpose in coming here- and she would do well to remember that. “Killian, then,” she agreed. She took her seat where he indicated as he moved to the other side of the desk and sat down.

“How may I help you today, Ms. Swan?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “If I’m going to call you Killian, then I have to insist on you calling me Emma.”

A delighted grin broke out on his face. “Very well, Emma. How may I help you today?”

Her face fell and tears gathered in her eyes. “My son was kidnapped last night.”

He didn’t know what he had expected her to say, but this was probably near the bottom of the list. About 90% of his business was investigating cheating spouses. He had noticed she wore no ring, but that didn’t mean much these days. He hadn’t dealt with a kidnapping case since his days in the Boston PD. His brow furrowed as he pulled a pad out of his desk.

“Have the police been contacted?”

“Yes, but our sheriff would be useless in this case,” she hedged, her eyes skittering away from his.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

Her face flushed a pretty pink, but it only took a moment for him to realize it was in anger, not embarrassment. “The biggest reason is because he’s been trying to get in my pants since I moved to town five years ago. He’s a weasel and I wouldn’t trust him to walk a dog around the block, much less to find my son! There is no doubt in my mind that he would talk a big game trying to impress me or get me to date him, and then do nothing to find Henry. And the second reason is that even if that wasn’t the case and he wasn’t a giant ass, he has no experience whatsoever with kidnappings. We’re a small town and the overwhelming majority of the ‘crime’,” she put air quotes around the word, “there are kids playing pranks or helping to find pets that have run off.”

Killian felt sick. He knew his mouth hung open in pure, unadulterated shock. He had been acquainted with some of the lowlifes of humanity, but that there were men, on the right side of the law, that would use the kidnapping of a child to try and woo the child’s mother was a new low. If he ever had the opportunity to meet this contemptible bastard, he’d like nothing more than to punch him into next week.

“I see,” he murmured, trying to rein in his ire.

“I need someone who will actually find Henry. He’s all I have.”

He looked into her emerald eyes. “You have my word. I’ll do everything I can to bring your son home to you.”

Emma gazed into Killian’s blazing blue eyes and was comforted by the intensity and conviction she saw there. Her heart rate increased again as she tore her gaze from his before she got hopelessly lost in them. She knew that he would take her case and that they would find Henry.

“Tell me everything.”

~*~*~

An hour later, Emma emerged from Killian’s office. “I’ll drive up to Storybrooke first thing in the morning and meet you at your home by nine. I’ll text when I leave so you’ll have an idea of when to expect me.”

“Thank you so much, Killian. I’ll see you in the morning.” She dipped her face again as her cheeks flushed and she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He took her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

“Until tomorrow, love.” He turned to Ariel as Emma left the office. “Don’t look at me like that.”

She smirked, knowingly. “I didn’t say a word,” she protested.

“I’ll be out of the office for a few days. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

“Mmhmmm,” she murmured. “Yes, sir.”

~*~*~

Killian climbed into bed that night after drinking just enough rum to help him fall asleep easily without her sparkling green eyes taunting him all night. She was the most exquisite creature he’d ever seen and he knew that he was going to need some liquid sedative if he hoped to get a good night's sleep before driving up to Maine in the morning.

She intrigued him. Both her and her case. He’d asked all the standard questions in a kidnapping investigation- when and where he was last seen, could a non-custodial parent be responsible (he couldn’t stop the small smile when she informed him that Henry’s father didn’t even know he existed), had he been chatting with anyone online that she knew of (he may be a little young in his own humble opinion, but you never knew these days)- and while she’d been honest with him in answering his questions, he knew that she was holding something back.

He had a sixth sense, his nephews likened it to a superpower, where he could tell if someone was lying to him. And while she hadn’t exactly been lying, she was definitely leaving something out. Something that niggled at him. Hence the rum. Whatever she was hiding, he had a feeling he’d find out what it was in the morning when he got to Storybrooke.

With those thoughts, he fell asleep.

~*~*~

“Hello, Killian Jones.” The oily voice sounded giddily taunting and jerked Killian awake. The man before him was impeccably dressed and appeared to be utterly poised and confident as he stared at Killian with piercing dark eyes.  He sat, one ankle resting on the other knee, in the same chair that Emma had occupied that afternoon.

“Who are you? How did you get here?” He looked around his office. “How did I get here?” The last thing he remembered was getting into bed with thoughts of Emma Swan swirling through his mind.

“I think you know exactly who I am,” he nearly purred. Then he shrugged, “But if not, it won’t be long before you do.” He stared at him again, if possible his stare even harder than before. “I am here for one reason and one reason only.” Killian released a small gasp when flames appeared in the stranger’s eyes. “Stay away from this case. Stay away from Emma Swan. You are dealing with things that are so far beyond you and your understanding…”  the flames died down and he trailed away with a sneer. “Things that would drive you mad.”

Killian leaned back in his chair, his innate stubbornness and anger rising. Whoever this man, thing, was, it was gonna take much more than a magic trick in a dream to turn him away from finding Emma’s son.

“Listen,” he began, placing his hands behind his head in a show of casual indifference, “I don’t know who you are or where you come from. But I don’t make a habit of letting a bunch of hocus pocus mumbo jumbo scare me off of anything. Especially when it comes in a dream.” He smirked cockily at his unwanted guest. “And since this is a dream, I can pretty much say anything I want and get away with it.” He paused, thinking. “So I think I’ll say, from my heart, kiss my ass.”

The man’s sneer disappeared as he leaned forward. “I really don’t like your attitude.”

Killian shrugged. “I don’t care what you like.” His gaze hardened then at the man in front of him. “Now take your bag of tricks and get out of my office.”

“Very well. I see that your choice is made.” The man uncrossed his legs and rose from the chair. “But before I go,” he reached forward and grabbed Killian’s hand. He felt an ice cold sensation that nearly burnt in its intensity before he jerked it out of the man’s grasp. He looked down at his hand where the skin bore now a shimmering scale-like appearance. He looked up again at the man before him whose smirk had a reptilian quality that sent a shiver of dread down Killian’s spine. “Just a little something to,” he paused, “leave an impression.” He giggled and disappeared in a cloud of grey smoke.

Killian jerked awake in the darkness. He turned on the light at the side of his bed and stared down at his hand. The burning scar from the dream was still there. Killian’s heart thundered in his chest. How could something that had happened in a dream…? He couldn’t finish the thought. He knew he’d be getting no more sleep that night.

~*~*~

Emma startled when the bell rang announcing Killian Jones. She was expecting him, of course, but her lack of sleep the night before, even with a magical assist, ensured that she was still on edge enough that she was easily startled. Trying to will her heartbeat to slow down, she walked to the front door. When she opened it, she inhaled sharply and her eyes trailed down his body appreciatively and back up again. He wore jeans with a pullover that was pulled tightly across his chest. His scruff was neatly trimmed and his hair was slightly mussed as if he’d been running his hand through it. His eyes were still a piercing blue, but he had shadows underneath them like he hadn’t slept well the night before. She licked her lips self-consciously as her eyes met his.

“See something you like there, love,” he asked, smirking at her with a raised eyebrow.

She could feel the blush heating her cheeks as she looked away and held the door open for him.

“Good morning, Killian,” she greeted him. “Please come in.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, all flirtation gone.

“Regina is expecting us as soon as you have a chance to look around,” she said leading him into the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?” she asked with a small smile, “You look like you could use it.”

Killian coughed, surprised at her perceptiveness. After only spending an hour with her the day before, he wouldn’t have thought that she’d be able to look at him and tell that he’d had a rough night.

“That would be great, lass. Thank you.”

She poured him a large travel mug of the aromatic brew. He took a sip and nearly groaned in delight. The coffee he had drunk that morning to get himself moving had long since left his system and he was desperate for something, anything that would help banish the recollection of last night’s disturbing dream and help him concentrate on the case at hand.

“Regina, your friend who knows more about who may have taken Henry and why?” he asked following her out of the kitchen and toward the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

“Yes, that’s right,” Emma replied. At the top of the stairs, she turned to the door on her left and opened it for him.

He entered the room and looked around. Of course he didn’t miss the sizable blood stain on the carpet in front of Henry’s bed. His heart skipped a beat as he took in all the toys and books scattered around the room. No child should ever be taken, but seeing the domain of this particular little boy made a fierce protectiveness that he had never known for anyone, not even his nephews, rise in him. He was completely taken aback by the strength of the sentiment. It was natural that he’d want to find a child that had been kidnapped, but it was something else for thoughts and feelings of duty, guardianship, and even love toward this child he had never met to flood his heart and mind. He had to find this little boy.

Turning back toward the boy’s mother, he caught her intense scrutiny before her cheeks flushed and she looked away. Something told him that it wasn’t attraction he was seeing now, but rather something else. Perhaps some of what she had hidden from him yesterday? He couldn’t help the feeling of exposure that came over him, like she could see things about him that he’d rather keep to himself, making him scratch at that spot behind his ear in a nervous tic that he’d never been able to kick. He followed her back out of the room.

“Okay, let's go see Regina.”

She nodded and descended the stairs, very conscious of Killian’s presence behind her.

When he’d looked around Henry’s room, she had watched him carefully, cataloguing every reaction he had. Regina was absolutely certain about him, but she had experience that Emma herself didn’t have. She was much more concrete. She wanted something that she could see, not just trust in someone else. As much as she did trust that particular someone else.

She had watched him as his eyes darkened in alarm and then flashed with anger when they had landed on the blood stain on the carpet. Softening as they’d swept over Henry’s bookshelves, she’d seen a wave of affection, protectiveness, and sorrow come over him as he turned his eyes back on her. Feeling much more comfortable about him, she couldn’t help the small smile that had escaped her when he scratched behind his ear in a nervous tic.

“Okay, let’s go see Regina.”

~*~*~

A short time later, Regina ushered Emma and Killian into her living room. She knew that her frown could be off putting to people who didn’t know her well, so she struggled to keep her expression pleasant even though she could feel the magic of the Dark One hanging about him. That magic was only further confirmation of what she had found in her research the day before. She sighed internally and glanced at her new acquaintance, hoping that he’d be up to the challenge that she was about to lay on him.

“Mr. Jones,” Regina began.

“Please, call me Killian, milady,” he interrupted.

“Killian, then,” she repeated with a sharp nod. She settled down on the sofa opposite them and fixed him with a hard stare. She couldn’t figure out how Killian might have come in contact with her former teacher’s dark magic, but it was obvious to her that he had. She decided she was just going to have to be blunt and hope for the best.

“Tell me, Mr, ah, Killian,” she quickly corrected herself, shaking her head, “have you ever had any contact with magic?”

Killian visibly startled and Emma’s eyes widened in surprise at her bold question.

“Magic?” he asked, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.

“Yes, magic,” she repeated, not backing down a bit.

Emma had been on the receiving end of that imperious and penetrating gaze before and she wasn’t surprised to see Killian’s apparent discomfort under that scrutiny. But before she could offer him any kind of reassurance, she watched this man as he suppressed his discomfort and fixed Regina with as hard a stare as she was leveling at him.

“Why are you asking me this? Magic doesn’t exist. And even if it did, you wouldn’t be asking me that without a very good reason. What exactly is going on here?” He turned to look at her. “I know that what you told me yesterday was the truth, but I also know that you didn’t tell me everything. If I’m going to be able to help you, you have to tell me everything, whether it seems relevant or not. No matter how insignificant it may appear to be. It’s been a long time since I’ve dealt with a kidnapping, but I know what I’m doing. This a partnership. I need you and ANY information you can give me just as much as you need me.”

Emma nodded and then looked over at their hostess. Regina seemed to deflate a bit.

“All of your questions will be answered, Mr,” she shook her head, “Killian. I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. I sense something.” Regina closed her eyes momentarily. “On you. I need you to answer my question before I can answer yours.”

Killian took a deep breath, his hackles lowering.

“Fine,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t call it magic, but I did have a very strange dream this morning…” He trailed away, remembering, albeit reluctantly. “A man visited me in my office and warned me to stay away from this case.” He turned to Emma, “To stay away from you, love.” He took her hand in his own. It was so warm and soft, he looked down and entwined their fingers before raising his eyes to hers again. “I told him he could fuck off. That nothing was going to stop me from finding your boy.”

She looked down at their hands, surprised that she hadn’t noticed that their fingers had intertwined. She looked back at him. His gaze was so intense, she couldn’t help the  shiver of awareness that shot down her spine. She tamped it down firmly. This was no time to give in to her attraction. Henry was first.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “That means a lot.”

Regina shook her head across from them. “But what about the magic? That’s not all that was in the dream, is it?” she queried. “There’s something more.”

Killian’s eyes skittered towards Regina and widened slightly.

“Yes,” he agreed. “But, it wasn’t magic...” he trailed away.

“Listen, Killian,” she interjected. “I am a seer. I can see the dark magic on you. And I know it’s not yours. Yours is light. And powerful. But, you have come into contact with some very powerful dark magic that I recognize. I need to know how. This dream wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

Killian’s head was spinning with everything she had just said. “Wait a minute,” he began, “What are you… what do you…” he was trying not to hyperventilate. “My magic? I don’t have magic.”

Regina could see that she had effectively torpedoed this meeting and she was desperate to get them back on track. She cursed at herself under her breath for her lack of tact and impatience and tried to salvage what she could.

“Mr. Jones, ah, Killian, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” He waved aside her sentiment assuring her forgiveness wasn’t necessary. “When I’m stressed, I tend to become a bit of a bitch, forgetting my manners. Emma and Henry are like family to me.” She turned a soft smile on Emma. “This entire situation has frightened me just about as much as his mother. Especially since I have a pretty good idea of what exactly is going on. Please trust me for just a moment. Forget what I just said. All your questions will be answered. I swear to you. Just as you said that there was nothing that should be left out, no matter how seemingly insignificant it was, the same goes here. Tell me,” she pleaded, “It is of the utmost importance.”

Killian scratched behind his ear again, clearly reluctant to share. “After I told him to get out, he took my hand.” He paused and held up his left hand. The skin on the back of his hand was pure white and scaly looking. Emma gasped in horror as she took that hand in her own.

“He did this?” she whispered.

“Aye.”

“Let me see,” Regina demanded, reaching across the coffee table between them.

Killian reached across to her as she exchanged an anxious look with Emma. She stared back down at his hand as he continued speaking. “He said he wanted to leave an impression.”

Regina released him and fell back to the sofa. “The man who visited you is my former teacher. He is known as the Dark One.”

Killian’s brows furrowed. “The Dark One?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “He was my first and only teacher of magic. A very powerful practitioner of dark magic. After I’d been under his tutelage for some time, he caught me with a very old, dusty,” she wrinkled her nose at the memory, “spell book.” She turned to Emma, “This is what I needed to research yesterday. When I saw Killian in the vision,” she smiled widely, pleased that she remembered to call him Killian, “the memory tickled, but I didn’t try to nail it down right then, in favor of noticing as many details in the vision as I could.” She turned her attention back to Killian. “The oracle that he caught me reading told of the Chosen One, a powerful wizard from the Land Without Magic, the Protector of the Heart of the Truest Believer. When he found me reading it, he flew into a rage the likes of which I’d never seen. It was more than enough reason to get away from him and continue my study and practice on my own.” She nearly pierced Killian to the soul with her penetrating gaze. “You, Killian, are the Chosen One.”

Emma’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “The Chosen One is the Protector of the Heart of the Truest Believer? Henry’s heart?”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Killian waved his hand at them, drawing both their attention. “You’re saying I’m some sort of Chosen One? Why? What makes you say that? Who or what chose me?!”

Regina waved her hand, dismissively. “I don’t worry about that kind of thing so much. Call it what you will. Providence, luck, God. All I know is, that when I touched Henry’s scarf yesterday in order to track him, I had a vision of you. You were coming into your office. You wore a black suit, white shirt, and a red tie with silver anchors on it.”

Killian was momentarily stunned silent. “That’s what you meant by seer.” Regina smirked at him. “What exactly is a seer?”

“There are different types. I have visions and can see magic. I can see not only the Dark One’s magic stream from where he touched you,” she reached across the coffee table again and took his hand in her own, “but I can see your magic.”

Killian raised an eyebrow at her. “My magic.”

Regina nodded slowly. “Yes, your magic.”

Killian withdrew his hand and leaned back against the sofa blowing out a long breath. “I was not aware that I had magic.”

“It’s latent, for sure. But it is definitely there. I could feel it in the vision I had. Now, since you’ve never been trained in its use, it will only manifest under extremely emotional circumstances.”

Emma finally spoke. “Remind me to tell you about the time my magic manifested for the first time. That’s a story for another time.” Killian raised an eyebrow at her, questioning. “Yes, I have magic, too. So does Henry.  This town is full of it and it’s here that Henry and I were drawn to when he was a baby. It’s here that Regina began training me in the use of my magic once it appeared, and Henry as well when his magic awoke a little over a year ago.” She looked over to Regina who nodded at her encouragingly. Emma closed her eyes and let her magic flow through her, holding her hand out so that Killian could see the white magic on her palm. “When I discovered that Henry was missing, I came straight to Regina, teleported into her bedroom before she was even awake. When Regina came to the house, she was able to see the magic used and what exactly happened to Henry. He has the Heart of the Truest Believer and the Dark One wants it.”

“You are connected to Henry in a way I don’t fully understand,” Regina added, “Henry being who he is, tells me who you are.”

Killian’s mind was spinning. He didn’t know what to do with all the information that was being thrown at him. He realized then that his superpower wasn’t going off. At all. Everything Regina and Emma were saying was the absolute truth. He considered himself a pretty laid back and open minded man, but what they were saying and showing him was so far out of his wheelhouse that, while he believed them, he was having a hell of a time assimilating it all. It brought back what the man, the Dark One, had said in his dream last night.  You are dealing with things that are so far beyond you and your understanding… Things that would drive you mad.

“And I am the Chosen One. The Protector of the Heart of the Truest Believer. And that’s Henry.” Regina and Emma both nodded.

A bone deep certainty settled over Killian like a cloak. That was why when he entered Henry’s room earlier he had felt so much for the little guy. Why he had felt so protective of him and angry that someone would dare to take him from his very bed. This monster, this Dark One, wanted to kill a child in order to obtain his heart for whatever nefarious purpose. Second, he had the audacity to come to him and try to get him to step away from the case. Fury rose in him. He rose from the sofa.

“How dare he,” he seethed.

Emma caught her breath. Killian’s blue eyes flashed, his cheeks and the tips of his ears were bright red, his teeth were clenched and his hands curled into fists. The man was absolutely magnificent in his rage. Her own heart rate sped up. She had never felt like this about anyone before. It went beyond simple attraction. His connection to Henry, meant that he was connected to her as well. Exploring that connection would have to wait, though. Not until Henry was safe. As these thoughts came to the front of her mind, she realized something. She had been so worried about her son that it didn’t even occur to her to be angry at the demon who had taken him, so as she looked at Killian, her own wrath came to the surface.

“We have to destroy him.” She turned furious eyes on her teacher. “What do we do? How do we do it? He was your teacher. You’ve protected us against him. Surely you know how to destroy him! And where is he keeping Henry?”

He couldn’t imagine being in her shoes, although the emotions that came over him in Henry’s room were at least similar in scope and intensity to what he imagined she was feeling. As he watched her now, he saw not just a beautiful woman, good friend, and loving mother, he saw an avenging goddess and he couldn’t help the proud smile that stole over his face as he thought of Emma taking on the Dark One.

“I haven’t made it that far yet, Emma. There is more information that Killian needs before you go off half-cocked,” Regina said. “Please sit down,” she invited.

Killian sank down onto the sofa again. “I’ve told you everything that I can remember about that dream, now it’s your turn.”

Regina nodded and began. Killian took out his pad and made notes of everything that Regina said, with a few interjections by Emma. After she had filled him in on the rest of her own history with the Dark One and the circumstances of Henry’s kidnapping, Regina paused.

“What?” Killian asked. “Whatever you have to say now can’t possibly be any more unbelievable than what you’ve already told me.”

“You have to obtain his dagger. It is the only thing that can destroy him. Since he marked you with his magic, Killian, I can trace it to find exactly where it is.”

Regina looked at Emma. “He will need his dagger in order to harm Henry, once my protection spell wears off in the next few days. So there is no time to lose. You must get the dagger and bring it here. We must keep him away from it at all costs.”

Emma and Killian turned to one another with wide eyes. “Then where is it?” Emma asked. “How do we get it?”

Regina reached across the coffee table and motioned to Killian to give her his hand again. When he did, she closed her eyes, her other hand hovering over the white skin. After about twenty seconds of tense silence, Regina began to speak.

“There is an underground chamber at Stonehenge, one of the few magical places on this earth,” she murmured. “You’ll have to go underground at Salisbury Cathedral to get there. It is built over the ancient civilization of Sarum, the people who built Stonehenge. Go down to the crypt and there is a passageway leading to Stonehenge.” Regina released Killian’s hand and held her’s out in front of her, her palm facing them. Killian looked at Emma who stared at her, transfixed. “Killian, you are the one who must get the dagger. You must follow all the directions that you are given.” Her eyes snapped open, pupils and irises gone, her eyes pure white as her voice rose in a reverberating crescendo as loud as thunder. “YOU MUST FOLLOW ALL THE DIRECTIONS YOU ARE GIVEN OR HENRY WILL BE LOST.”

Killian swallowed thickly as Regina’s eyes closed again and then opened, perfectly normal. He stared at her, mouth agape. “Follow all the directions I am given.” He nodded sharply. “Got it.”

He turned to Emma. “Well, it looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us, love. Looks like we’re heading to Stonehenge.”

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing. I’d love to know what you think! Our conclusion will be up a week from today!

[ironmariposa]

So I started a Captain Swan Panic fic. 🤗

Also found on Ao3

“Every small town has a secret. Ours has a game. The losers stay here where losing is what they do best. The winners get out.

Out is the only place worth going.

That’s why players risk their lives to win. But the game isn’t meant to kill you. And it won’t. If you follow one rule.

Don’t. Panic.”

Emma hadn’t planned on playing Panic. In fact she had told her friends it was a stupid game kids did because they were bored.

And it was. No one knows who originally created the game but every summer, the graduating seniors take part in the game for a cash prize. A pretty decent sized cash prize since every student was somehow required to contribute one dollar every day of the school year.

For someone like Emma it was a struggle but her friends always stepped up when she started being harassed for not contributing.

Every Senior didn’t have to play. It was their own choice. Some years they had only twenty participants. Others had over forty. Which in their small town would be most of the Senior class. The games always start after graduation and last throughout the summer.

Emma didn't plan to attend initiation night. She just couldn’t be bothered. She had to work earlier that day for a job that barely paid her and then had to pick up Henry, her foster brother, from the library. Ruby called her as soon as she got home, just to make sure she didn’t want to go.

“I have no desire to see you jump to your death Rubes”

Her friend laughs, “You know it’s just Pikes Peak. We’ve jumped from there thousands of times in our lifetime.”

“Sure, but never at night.”

“Come on Em, David and Mary Margaret are going.”

That was a surprise because she knew neither were planning to play the game. They had plenty of means to get out of town. Even managed to get accepted at the same college so they could stay together. Emma was trying to go too but so far she only had enough for one semester.

She hangs up with Ruby and plans to call Mary Margaret but then…

Then she finds out her foster mom, her horrid monster mom, found her stash of money she had been saving to get out of that God forsaken town and blown it all on drugs. All five thousand of it she had been saving for over four years.

She’s thankful Henry is staying with a friend as she has it out with her foster mom, who of course, truly believes she is owed that money for letting Emma live with her for so long, for feeding her and “taking care of her”, whatever the hell that means. And nevermind the system already pays her for all of that.

Emma makes a rash decision after screaming herself almost horse, and steals her foster mom's car keys and makes her way to Pikes Peak.

Anna is shocked that Emma wants to enter the contest but still writes a number on her hand, “You’re lucky Em, you’re our last contestant.”

Emma isn’t able to respond as she stares up to the top of Devil's Drop.

Anna hands her a flair and nods to the path, “Better get going.”

Emma nods and starts the trek but turns back, “Has anyone?” She nods to Devils Drop and Anna glances back at it briefly.

“No, but Emma you don’t need to. Just do the regular drop and you’re in.”

“But if I do it I’m ahead.”

Anna looks like the last thing she wants to do is agree so she gives a brief nod and Emma turns to make her way up the path.

It’s not a long path and it’s one Emma’s done before. Most of the kids have jumped from Pikes Peak. Very, very few have jumped from Devils Drop. It’s considered suicide, especially in the dark.

As she makes her way, she hears a scream, then a splash. The crowd, now at a decent distance, cheers as Kristoff says through the megaphone, “Elsa is officially in the game.”

Emma takes a deep breath and pauses at the top of Pikes Peak, her flare by her side.

“Jumper, state your name.” Kristoff calls out through the megaphone.

Emma risks a glance over the cliff and down, down, down to the dark water. She can barely see it breaking at the base of the ridge. Ruby’s right in that they’ve made this jump hundreds of times over the years. She’s never been scared of it before, but she’s also never done it after dark.

“Come on, Emma.” Kristoff calls out, “You have to either jump or not.”

She spares a glance in Kristoffs direction. She can’t see him or anyone very well. She considers turning back, it’s better than the unknown. But she remembers the empty box of money and how if she doesn’t make a move, she’ll be stuck in this town forever. A town that’s never fully accepted her. A town that never cared one way or another about her.

Turning she begins the walk up to Devils Drop. The path is more narrow and she trips over a log but finally she makes it and steps to the edge of the cliff.

“Are you sure you want to do this Emma?” Kristoff calls out, “No harm in turning back.”

Emma ignores him staring down into the black lake. She sees nothing. She knows there are rocks below, knows if she doesn’t jump out far enough, the rocks off the side will break her fall before the ones at the bottom will, knows there’s a small area for her to land in safely. There is absolutely no room for even the smallest error.

“Jumper, state your name.” Kristoff tries again.

Emma takes a deep breath and takes a few steps back, enough to get a running start, “Emma.” She calls out finally, “Swan. Emma Swan.” And without another thought runs and jumps.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  Breaking the Curse

Chapter 30:  His Real Name

He was waiting for his arraignment. Or at least that's what Emma thought he was waiting for. In reality, he was waiting for Dove to get him out of this mess, for Moe French to wake and say he wouldn't be pressing charges, for him to give whatever story Dove forced him to give so that he could get out of this place. He was waiting to go after Regina and find Belle's cup, which was still out there in the world somewhere. This wouldn't be done until he had it back. He'd burn down the whole fucking town to find it if he had to. And he knew who he was going to start with this time.

Regina. It was always Regina. He'd been stupid in trying to go through Moe French, in trying to deny what was obviously happening. He was paying for it now. But in a few hours, when Dove finished his work, he'd go to Regina. He'd get his property back. He'd find a way to make this work in his favor. He always did. And if it didn't? Well, the Curse was cast. He was in the World Without Magic. He didn't technically need Regina anymore. She could be dealt with any way that he needed to deal with her; any way that got him his cup back…

"Pastrami…you want half?"

He glanced through the bars to Emma, who sat eating her lunch in her office. This wasn't the first time she'd tried to engage him in conversation. She tried the first half of the night before finally leaving him alone to rest for a few hours and then tried again this morning when she gave him some childish pastry as a "breakfast." She'd tried to talk to him…she'd failed. She forgot, he was a lawyer. He knew better than to talk to her, no matter how tired or angry or hungry for real food he was.

"You know, I still owe you that favor. Nice, fatty pastrami; delicious way to clear the books."

"Well, I don't need a reminder that you owe me a favor," he answered. "And when the day comes that I make my request, it'll be for more than half a sandwich." It would be for his son. The last person on this earth who might still care about him. If he didn't have Belle's love or her cup, that was something to hold on to at least.

But suddenly, Emma didn't seem to care about his ominous threat. Suddenly her attention was no longer on him or her sandwich but someone else.

Regina Mills. She stood there as if by magic like his thoughts had summoned her.

And Henry, the real person Emma was interested in.

"Sheriff Swan? I'm letting you have thirty minutes with Henry. Take him out, buy him ice cream."

Oh…this was an interesting twist, one of great desperation. He knew from Dove's accounts that Emma hadn't spent time with her son in weeks; she hadn't been permitted to, not since the council meeting. Regina wouldn't offer up Henry, not unless she wanted to talk about something important. More important than Emma Swan's upcoming review and potential firing.

As she turned her gaze to him, sitting behind bars, he had a terrible feeling about what was about to happen. If he was right, the Evil Queen had just played her game well, even better than she had been before. If he was wrong…well…he couldn't think of a scenario where he was wrong. Fuck, what had he done?

"You want me to leave you alone with a prisoner?" Emma countered in disbelief.

Regina closed her eyes in irritation. "Twenty-nine and a half minutes," she snapped without looking at her. She couldn't. She was too busy staring at him like a mouse caught in a trap. Shit.

"Hi, Emma," the boy smiled. It was one that he, as a parent knew another parent would find tantalizing.

"Hey," Emma smiled back. He was fucked. By Regina of all people! Not exactly something he wanted the Swan to see. And if she knew, well…The Savior didn't "know" anything yet. She wasn't ready.

"Bring me back a cone?" he remarked calmly.

Control. He needed to regain his control. This wasn't the first deal he'd ever made, and he'd be damned if it was going to be his last. He just needed to start thinking like the Dark One and not like Mr. Gold.

As Emma exclaimed, "Just this once. Come on, let's go!" and ushered Henry out the door, leaving him alone with the former Evil Queen, he tried to remember his old tricks. He tried to remember how to regain control when he had so little of it. Unfortunately, the last time he'd had little control was when he was human, and he'd never negotiated his way out of that, not without fucking magic that he still didn't possess! But the stakes were as high. If this was about what he suddenly feared it was, then he couldn't afford to slip this up or be nervous. Control. He had to take it back. How?!

"Well, you really wanted that little chat, didn't you?"

"Apparently, this is the only way I could do it," she smiled, a wicked, evil smile that made his palms sweat. Her inner queen was showing, in a way that it hadn't been before, not in twenty-eight years. She was confident, sure of herself. And why shouldn't she be? She'd played him, just like he might have in the good ole days. And if she was so comfortable showing this side of herself…it was because she knew. This conversation, as far as she was concerned, was only a formality. She had him cornered. But he wasn't without tricks here; one, in particular, could come in handy, and without anything else at his disposal…

"Please – sit," he commanded, pointing at the sofa by his cell.

She obeyed. Power. Control. Though she'd initially grimaced when he'd given the order now that she was sitting again, she was smiling again too, grinning that same sinister grin she'd just had. If they were bound to have this conversation, then there was no possible way he was going to let her think she was running it, even if he knew she was. Dammit. When he'd pictured confronting her, it hadn't been like this.

"Now, when two people both want something the other has, a deal can always be struck. Do you have what I want?"

Her smile broadened so that she beamed. "Yes."

Fuck.

He let himself breathe deep, first with relief. Upsetting as that answer was, at least now he knew where Belle's treasure was. And now he knew it was safe. Regina wasn't stupid. She wouldn't hurt it; she'd use it as a bargaining chip. Bargaining for something unknown was the part that worried him after the relief wore off.

"So, you did put him up to it, then," he stated, revealing he wasn't ignorant to the way she worked.

"I merely suggested that strong men take what they need."

"Oh, yeah…and you told him just exactly what to take, didn't you?"

"We used to know each other so well, Mr. Gold. Has it really come down to this?"

"It seems it has, yeah," he nodded. So much pretense…if they were going to do this, then they may as well get to it. "But you know what I want, what is it you want?"

"I want you to answer one question," she hissed. "And answer it simply: what's your name?"

He smirked. She'd made an error, one that most amateurs in deal-making made. She hadn't been specific enough. "Answer one question simply" was not answer one question truthfully or honestly. "Simply"…simply gave him options.

"It's Mr. Gold."

Regina lowered her gaze and glared at him, the glare of an angry Queen who was sick of being lied to. "Your real name," she growled.

He felt no pressure. The deal had been to answer one question simply. Asking him his real name wasn't a requirement of the deal they'd struck, which meant he was free to respond as he saw fit. Even if he knew that there was no way this would work in his favor in the end. She held all the cards.

"Every moment I've spent on this earth, that's been my name."

"But what about moments spent elsewhere?" she questioned, finally realizing her own mistakes.

It was going to end the way it was going to end, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it until it did, or at least attempt to evade her. He drew a look of confusion over his face and shook his head.

"What are you asking me?"

"I think you know," she stated, a reply full of double meaning. "If you want me to return what's yours, tell me your name."

And there it was. Her ace in the hole. He could sit here and use loophole after loophole, but there was no magic here. He could lie to her, adamantly refuse, but then what of Belle's teacup. If she walked out of here angry, then he risked its safety. That would seem a proper punishment to Regina. And he could say "please," ask her to "please" return his property…but another "please" at a time like this would damn near confirm it anyway. Pretend all he could, but she had the advantage. She had him in a corner, his back to the wall.

Dammit, Regina had won.

She was going to get the answer she wanted or leave him with nothing. At least this way, he'd get his ace back.

He felt his lips curl into a sneer as he let out a breath of defeat and finally whispered the truth Emma wasn't ready to believe.

"Rumpelstiltskin…"

The moment he said the words, Regina's grin vanished and fear overshadowed her. Odd reaction. For someone who had seemed so sure of herself, she suddenly looked like she'd been hoping she was wrong. Pity. One should never make a deal they weren't prepared for. Finally, he clawed at the bars and pulled himself up to his feet before she could go back on her deal in a Land Without Magic where revenge would be twice as hard. She would keep this deal!

"Now give me what I want."

"Such hostility?" Her Majesty mocked.

"Oh, yeah!"

Finally, she turned to the bag she'd brought, reached inside, and produced…Belle's chipped cup.

Safe.

Sound.

In one piece, save for the chip that made it so special.

The sight of it, the knowledge that it was safe and back in his presence, nearly made his heart stop.

"Over this?" she questioned, dangling it in front of him, forcing him to reach through the bars to try and grasp it. "Such a sentimental little keepsake."

Finally, his fingers closed over it and he pulled it through the bars. "Thank you…Your Majesty," he mocked, holding it tight in his hands.

Safe and sound. He inspected it, checking for further damage but found none. That was something, at least. Ironic…he'd wanted to spend Valentine's Day alone with this cup…he might get his wish after all. So long as he could get rid of Regina.

"So. Now that we're being honest with each other, let's remember how things used to be, shall we? And don't let these bars fool you, dear. I'm the one with the power around here. I'm going to be out of here in no time, and nothing between us will change."

Suddenly Regina got to her feet. She gripped the bars and pressed her face close to the bars. "We shall see," she hissed before taking her leave.

He was afraid. Things were bad already, at risk. And now Regina had won, forced him to reveal his hand too early. This was bad. But as he looked down and beheld the cup in his hand, no sooner had a small voice in the back of his head whispered "was it worth it" than a louder voice proclaimed, without question, "yes, Belle was always worth it."

[lilacmoon83]

Clarity

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 16: Truth and Dissent

"You've seen the book. You saw that nursery they made...for you. Parents that don't want their kid don't do that, Emma and you know it," Neal said, as neither of them noticed David and Mary Margaret coming out of the diner.

"Why do you care so much!?" Emma cried in exasperation.

"Because we know the truth! You were cheated out of having them and they were cheated out of having you! First, because of the curse...but ultimately, because of a lie told by people that were supposed to be their friends!" he said.

"What?" Mary Margaret asked and he suddenly realized they were there. He froze and turned to them. This was not a conversation that he wanted to come back to, but clearly there was no washing it away. New York had not allowed for any time to deal with it and maybe now was the time.

"What...what do you mean when you say we were lied to?" David asked, with an edge in his voice. Neal sighed.

"Is this about Blue and Geppetto? The wardrobe and what you told us in New York?" she questioned.

"Uh yeah...I know you probably haven't had a lot of time to process it with everything going on, but it was August that told me that," Neal replied.

"Then maybe it's time we revisit this conversation," David suggested.

"We can go back to the loft," Mary Margaret suggested.

"Papa...are you coming?" Neal asked.

"If you want me to," Gold replied. Neal nodded.

"I do," he said and while Gold's expression didn't change, the look of relief and mirth in his eyes could not be mistaken. They started walking and Neal noticed that Emma was still standing on the sidewalk.

"Emma...come on," he urged. She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms over her chest, but then reluctantly followed them.

~*~

Sidney breathed a sigh of relief, as he returned to his office after the interruption. He sat back down at his computer and continued working on the retraction story. But what David had said rang true. The waters had been muddied now and a retraction story wouldn't get people to stop questioning the truth. But he continued on at Regina's request or rather order as it was. It was strange though. Lately, when he was putting together the stories for the paper, he had an incredible sense of Deja Vu. And it wasn't so much that he had put the paper together a million times, but rather it seemed like some of the stories were the same as the day before and the day before that. But that couldn't be right. New things were happening every day, though David and Mary Margaret's affair had certainly made his paper more interesting as of late, as well as the arrivals of outsiders like Neal Cassidy and Emma Swan. Still, something felt off and he felt it in the back of his mind. He stood up and looked into the mirror on the wall, but his reverie was interrupted by his phone ringing. It was the Mayor and he had to take it.

The blonde woman hung up the phone and set it down on her desk. She stood up and looked out her office window, right at the magnificent view of Time Square and remained deep in thought about the information she had been given so far by her employee.

~*~

It was finally time.

"Jocelyn…" she said, as she pressed a button on her phone.

"Yes, Ma'am?" her receptionist answered.

"Book me a flight to Portland, Maine. The soonest flight there is and set up a rental car to be waiting for me when I land," the woman ordered.

"Yes Ma'am," she answered. The woman gathered her things and intended to go pack. Storybrooke, Maine awaited her...

~*~

David and Mary Margaret's minds were swirling with questions by the time they arrived at the loft The Wardrobe. The lies. August...they remembered the name now, but so much had happened in New York that they never really dealt with that layer. Perhaps they had purposely avoided it, but that obviously wasn't an option any longer.

Everyone removed their coats and found seats where they could. And all attention turned to Neal.

"I guess there isn't really a gentle way to say any of this," Neal began.

"You said we were lied to by people that were supposed to be our friends. I'm assuming you mean what you told us in New York?" David asked bluntly. Neal sighed.

"And this August told you?" Mary Margaret asked anxiously.

"Yes," Neal replied.

"I guess that makes sense since you told us he's Pinocchio," David stated. Neal nodded.

"I...I think I wanted to forget that part," Mary Margaret murmured and David squeezed her hand.

"I get that. Things could have been very different if Geppetto hadn't done what he did in desperation. August was found with Emma that night...but he left her soon after," Neal explained.

"What the hell was he even thinking? How did Geppetto expect a little boy to take care of an infant?" David said in frustration.

"He...he wasn't thinking. He just wanted to protect his son, just like we wanted to protect our daughter," Mary Margaret said in a choked voice.

"You're being really understanding," David mentioned. She shrugged.

"I'm trying," she admitted.

"If our lying friend did leave Emma at the orphanage...how did he even know where she was?" Gold questioned. Neal shrugged.

"That's a question I still don't have an answer to. Somehow, he must have kept tabs on Emma over the years," Neal said, as he shared an uncomfortable look with the blonde.

"Anyway, he found me in Portland. I had every intention of running away to Canada with Emma...but he told me everything and convinced me that if I did, I would be interfering with Emma's destiny to break the curse," Neal said, as he looked at her rigid expression.

"I was stupid enough to listen to him and it was the biggest mistake of my life," Neal said, pleading with her. She scoffed.

"It was Emma...I was scared that my father would find me if I stayed with you and that I would get sucked back into this world," he confessed.

"But yet here you are anyway," she countered.

"Because of Henry. I would have never abandoned you if I had known. Hell, I would have never abandoned you if I hadn't let August terrify the hell out of me," Neal said.

"So August is trying to make sure the curse is broken?" David asked.

"Uh yeah...but don't think he's doing it for the good of everyone," Neal replied.

"What does that mean?" Rumple asked.

"He was turning to wood again...because Emma was off track. He showed me his leg," Neal replied.

"Ah...turning back into a puppet, so he made sure Emma was put back on her path to Storybrooke to save himself. It comes as no surprise that the stupid gnat was in on the whole thing," he growled.

"I still can't believe Blue betrayed us…" David hissed.

"Believe it...and never trust a fairy," Gold warned. David sighed and looked at his wife, whose expression broke his heart. She looked utterly broken now.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to stir all of this up again," Neal offered. David gave him a nod. He knew it wasn't Neal's fault. He had made a mistake and had hurt Emma, which he hated. But he was young and pressured into it, as he now knew. David had made his own mistakes with Mary Margaret when cursed. Like himself, Mary Margaret, and Emma...it seemed he was a victim as well. And it was becoming more clear by the day that they had put their trust in liars.

"Thank you for telling us the rest of it anyway. We didn't really deal with it before," David offered. Neal nodded.

"Do you know why he's here now? Or why would he try to help us by writing that article?" David asked. Neal shook his head.

"He's been careful to avoid me. I wouldn't even know he was here if he hadn't published that article. But before Blue put him in the wardrobe, she told him that he had to be selfless, brave, and true. And he hasn't been...far from it," Neal said.

"He's turning to wood again," Gold surmised.

"Which means he's probably trying to accelerate the curse being broken," Neal said.

"To save himself," David said bitterly.

"None of this makes any sense," Emma muttered.

"It would if you'd stop being in denial," Neal replied.

"Don't start with me," she snapped.

"No, I am going to start with you! Dammit Emma...this all gets easier if you just accept reality," Neal said in frustration.

"This...this isn't my reality," Emma refuted, as she stood up.

"You just told me that you left me, because Pinocchio told you to! What the hell am I supposed to do with that!?" Emma cried.

"Deal with it and stop running! That's what you do with it!" Neal shouted back.

"You and your parents got royally screwed! I got royally screwed and it sucks! But if we tear ourselves apart...Regina will win and she'll take our son away," he warned and Emma took a sobering breath.

"And I don't want that...but you're asking me to believe…" Emma said, but trailed off when she saw Mary Margaret stand up and stare her straight in the eyes.

"Nine months…" she said in an unsteady voice.

"What?" Emma asked.

"Nine months...I carried you, planned for you, and then prepared myself to leave your father behind and walk into the unknown through that wardrobe," Mary Margaret replied.

"I…" Emma started to say, but then words failed her.

"I was terrified, but your father told me that I had to go. I had to for you, even though he had no idea what would happen to him or if he would even survive. So I was going to do it...but then you came early and they told us that it only took one," she explained and swallowed thickly.

"So I told your father that he had to put you in the wardrobe," she said, as tears streamed down her cheeks and David was still haunted by her gut wrenching sobs as he took Emma away.

"He didn't want to...but I knew he had to. To give you your best chance," she continued.

"If..if you had ended up in Storybrooke, Regina would have never let me have you. She would have made sure you could never break the curse," she said sadly. Emma was still resisting the belief in all of this, but the pain in Mary Margaret's eyes was so palpable that it was undeniable. There was no faking this kind of pain; that she knew for certain and from experience. But she wasn't ready...she didn't know if she'd ever be ready.

"I...I gotta go," Emma stammered, as she fled the apartment as fast as she could. With another sting of what Mary Margaret could only take as rejection, she fled to her bedroom behind the curtain and they heard sobs. David followed her in an attempt to comfort her, while Neal and Gold quietly let themselves out. The younger of the two sighed.

"What is it going to take?" Neal asked.

"Her cognitive dissonance is worse than I originally feared," Gold replied.

"What do we do?" Neal questioned, finally seeking his advice.

"I'm not sure we will need to do anything. It seems like we may never get through to her, but things are not always as they appear," Gold replied.

"Papa...you know I don't appreciate the cryptic phrases," Neal said.

"I only mean that Emma likely already knows it's all very true, but she runs, because she's not ready to handle it. However, the time will come when she can no longer run and she will face either accepting her destiny or losing everything," Gold replied.

"Losing everything?" Neal asked in alarm.

"Everything will come to a head. Emma does break the curse, but I cannot see how or why. But it will not be an easy path and Regina will not sit still for it. If she is faced with losing them or Henry...she will do what she must," Gold replied. Neal sighed again.

"I hope you're right, because I know Emma and right now, she's probably itching to blow this town," he warned.

"But she won't and for now, we prepare for the one thing keeping her here. The trial," Gold said. Neal nodded and looked back at the door, before following his father.

"You're fond of them," Gold said.

"I barely know them...but they're Emma's parents. Henry's grandparents. They're good people," Neal replied.

"They are and they will be fine. Not even the curse could destroy their true love. Regina will lose," he assured him.

"Yeah...but what do we have to endure until then?" Neal asked. Gold looked at him, as they exited the building.

"Even I don't know the answer to that," he replied, as they walked back to his shop where his car was parked.

[swanslieutenant]

from the sea - chapter eight

Summary: When Emma becomes sheriff, the pressure of running a department with a dwindling budget becomes nothing but an exercise in frustration. That is, until she finds an unlikely ally in the town treasurer, a man who her kid Henry is convinced is not an ally at all, but rather a villainous enemy. Season 1 AU, Cursed!Killian.

Rating and Warnings: Teen.

Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7

Read on AO3

_____

Bright and early Monday morning, Emma jogs up the steps to Granny’s, hand raised over her head to protect against the slight drizzle of rain coating Storybrooke in a misty, cool fog. Inside, there’s a few people in the queue at the till, and Emma steps into the line, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

As she’s stepping forward to place her order with Ruby, her phone dings with a text message, loud and insistent. Emma flashes Ruby an apologetic smile as she fishes her phone out of her pocket to a text from Mary Margaret – can you get some more dishwashing soap on your way home later? We’re all out.

Ruby taps her notepad absently on the counter, her lips curling into a knowing smirk at her as Emma answers the message.

“Wes sending you his order?”

“Hmm?” Emma says, absently, focused on her phone. She frowns then, registering Ruby’s sentence, and glares at her. “No.”

“You sure?” Ruby teases, leaning closer and dropping her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s strange to see you in here without him. I thought maybe you were getting breakfast for the both of you … to go.” 

The implication makes Emma raise an eyebrow, and though she tries to keep her expression cool and unimpressed, her cheeks are starting to heat. She crosses her arms over her chest and clears her throat pointedly.

“A coffee and bear claw to go, please.”

“Just one coffee?”

“Ruby.”

She laughs as she writes the order down, ripping it off the pad and waving it pointedly at Emma, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m just saying, Emma. Wes is a nice guy. You could give him a shot.”

The words make Emma’s heart skip a beat, her throat closing in on itself at the immediate summoning of her growing discomfort and alarm. That’s not – she and Wes are friends. That’s it. That’s all.

(Even though she’s finding it easier and easier to be in Wes’s company, finding herself at ease with him in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. In a long time. Even though Wes is someone who defends her against his tyrannical boss and who spends his weekends humouring her kid’s outlandish theories. Who she finds herself thinking about more than she probably should be.)

Emma shakes her head firmly, tightening her crossed arms over her abdomen as if she could create a steel shield with their protection.

“That’s not – Wes and I are friends, Ruby. That’s it.” Ruby raises an eyebrow, smirking, and Emma hurriedly continues, as firmly as she can, “I’m here for Henry. Nothing and no one else, okay?”

Ruby regards her for a few seconds before she shrugs, raising her hands in surrender. “Whatever you say, Sheriff.”

She turns away to fulfill Emma’s order, humming to herself. Emma’s heart still feels like its beating half out of rhythm, and she lets out a deep breath to try to calm it.

Though those efforts are thoroughly squashed when her cell phone rings, shrill even from her pocket. Ruby sends her a pointed look over her shoulder as Emma fishes it out. She looks at the screen – now desperately praying it isn’t Wes, lest she has to see Ruby’s expression – and frowns. It’s an unknown caller, number obscured, and her eyes narrow in slight suspicion.

Who, with an unknown number, would be calling her, at quarter-past six in the morning?

“Hello?”

“Ms. Swan,” greets the silky voice on the other end, the voice of the one and only Mr. Gold. The way his tone curls around her name makes her stomach twist in unease, and Emma frowns.

“Gold? How do you have my cell number?”

He chuckles, a cool, dark sound. “I have a crime to report, Sheriff. Is it improper to call the sheriff when I have a crime to report?”

Emma grits her teeth. His smarmy voice makes her fists clench, but she makes a split-second decision that this isn’t a battle she wants to fight. Instead, she says, as sweetly as she can muster, “Yes, Mr. Gold. That is exactly what you should do. So, how can I help you?”

“I have reason to believe that some of the items I recently received from one of our fair citizens may be, in fact, stolen property. I would like to file a report.”

Something false echoes in his voice, and Emma’s lie detector piques. “Uh, okay,” she says, casting a look out the window to the pawnshop, the red closed sign in the door visible from here even across the foggy street. “I’ll be right there.”

“Wonderful.”

Gold ends the call swiftly, and Emma frowns at her phone as Ruby returns with her food and coffee. She puts her phone away, and shakes her head, already steeling herself for whatever nonsense Gold is about to present her with, and turns to go.

“Thanks, Ruby. See you later, I’ve got to run –”

“Wait, Emma –”

Ruby steps out from behind the counter, and Emma resists the urge to snap back at the waitress, her temper nearly spent from their earlier discussion of Wes and Gold’s smugness on the phone.

“Ruby, I really have to go, okay? And, no, that wasn’t Wes on the phone, that was Gold. I need to go see what he wants.”

“No, no, that’s not what I wanted to say – though it is interesting you just assumed I thought that would be Wes –”

Emma sighs, turning away. “Bye, Ruby –”

Ruby grabs her arm and tugs her back. “No, no. Listen – I’m sorry about bugging you. That’s not what I wanted to say.” She pauses, her usual confidence faltering, and her next words seem hesitant and more unsure: “I just wanted to see if you were interested in coming out to the Ladies’ Night tonight down at the Rabbit Hole with Ashley and I.”

Emma is taken aback, momentarily stunned. She – Emma is being invited to a Ladies’ Night? Her first reaction is to decline because Emma doesn’t do “Ladies’ Night.” She’s not a ‘let’s drink at a bar with girlfriends’ type of woman because, well, she doesn’t have girlfriends. For heaven’s sake, she doesn’t even have friends!

Though Emma can’t deny that that’s the case still; things have been changing since she arrived in this strange little town. She’s obviously friends with Mary Margaret now, and after all, she just spent the last few minutes trying to convince herself that Wes Newport is one of her friends too.

Ruby is looking at her expectantly, and Emma clears her throat, stalling for time. “Uh, tonight?”

Ruby’s eyes light up. “Yes! I was thinking that might be something you’d want to do. I – we go sometimes, not as often since Ashley had her baby, but I think it would be so nice if you came too! It’s always a fun time.”

Emma pauses again, considering. She likes Ruby, who always has a smile and a wry comment for her, even if the ones regarding the treasurer make her flush. Ashley is lovely too, and Emma finds herself wanting to know how things are going with her and her baby. She’s not sure who she’s becoming, someone who even considers going out to a Ladies Night, but first Emma has Mary Margaret as a friend, then Wes. Now maybe she can add a few more to that tally.

“That would be great, Ruby. Thanks – thanks for inviting me. I’ll see you there.”

“Great! Bring Mary Margaret too, yeah? I haven’t seen her in a while, she’s always busy these days. She must have some secret guy out there, keeping her busy.”

Ruby says it jokingly, seemingly unaware of just how true those words are, but Emma nearly chokes on her coffee she’d just taken a sip from. She quickly plays it off as the coffee being too hot and agrees to bring her roommate along too.

She hurries out of the diner, grinning to herself. Ruby spends her time teasing Emma about Wes, but if she only knew about Mary Margaret and David … Well, Emma thinks wryly, munching on the bear claw on the way over to the pawnshop, that will be something to talk about at this Ladies Night for sure.

_____

After another terrible, mostly sleepless night, Wes wakes up before his alarm clock, feeling as if he didn’t sleep a wink. Nightmares, revolving around a vaguely familiar man with curly black hair and a gleaming gold sextant identical to the one in the Maritime Museum, had woken him up on and off, until he’d finally drifted off from pure exhaustion at about four a.m. He scrubs at his eyes as he swings his legs out of bed, letting out a deep sigh, reluctantly rising to face the day.

On his way to work, he skips the coffee at Granny’s after seeing the large queue, instead suffering with the watery coffee at Town Hall when he arrives. He’s in the middle of setting up the coffee machine, finding he has to focus extremely hard to understand how to get it going even though he’s done it a thousand times before, when a voice speaks out from behind him.

“Have a nice weekend, Wes?”

Regina, in one of her striking black pantsuits and with her perfectly styled hair, is in the doorway of the staff room, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. Her smile is pleasant enough, detached and cool like always, her question innocent and polite, but Wes is not in the mood to deal with whatever Regina wants from him today.

“Tiring,” he replies gruffly, turning back to the coffee machine.

Regina steps up beside him, leaning against the counter close enough to brush his shoulder. “Get up to anything exciting?”

Wes pauses, stir-stick half to his cup, glancing over to Regina. She’s watching him over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes dark and cold, a calculating edge to them that he doesn’t usually see directed at him.

Wes straightens, his instincts heightening and turning as hard as steel. Regina is waiting for his answer expectantly, and while Wes feels a strange compulsion to tell her about his visit to the Maritime Museum, he has a strong instinct that confessing that he went there, with Henry and Emma (obviously behind her back, he’s realizing now) to boot, would end only in disaster.

“No,” he says, and he lifts the cup in a gesture of departure. “Off to work. Goodbye, Madam Mayor.”

He feels Regina’s eyes on him the entire way out of the staff room, burning a hole into his suit jacket, and it’s not until he’s in his office, door shut firmly behind him, that he’s able to take a deep breath again.

_____

Gold’s pawnshop is still shuttered when Emma arrives, tossing out her empty pastry wrapper into a nearby trashcan as she draws close. She peers in through the windowed door, looking for any sign of Gold within. The shop appears empty, and Emma tries the handle – the door swings open at her touch.

 “Gold?” she calls out, stepping into the shop, hand drifting to the gun at her belt out of habit. “It’s Emma.”

“I’ll be right with you, Sheriff.” His voice drifts out from the back room, through the gently fluttering curtain. “Please, come in.”

Emma walks further into the shop, rubbing absently at her arms as a chill rushes down them. This place gives her the creeps, with its dim lighting and random assortment of objects sprawled out over glass display cases and hanging from the ceiling. A broken globe, a crystal mobile, a pair of creepy handsewn dolls, a steel tea set, numerous items of jewellery and watches and broken dishes, to name a few.

Lying out on the counter near the back of the shop, in a blue velvet display case, the gleam of metal catches her eye. She approaches it, and her heart skips a beat.

Nestled in the case is a curved, gleaming, silver hook.

Emma stares at it, her heart race stuttering as it picks up speed. She glances around, but Gold hasn’t emerged yet, and against her better judgement of touching anything in this place, Emma lifts the hook out of its case, the metal cold and smooth in her hands.

Seriously? What the hell?

She knows Henry isn’t always discreet with his theories about the fairy tale personas of the Storybrooke citizens, but what is this? Why does Gold, who hates Newport, have a hook, the embodiment of who Henry believes Wes to be?

“See anything you like?”

Gold has stepped out of the back room finally, leaning heavily on his cane as he steps into the main shop. Emma regards him as levelled and balanced as she can manage, her dislike of the man in front of her palpable. His expression is unreadable, but Emma has learned pretty quickly since arriving in this town that Gold is a snake, one who tries to rile up everyone and twist things to serve some sick agenda of his own.

And whatever he’s playing with here, taking out a curved silver hook, of all things, most likely knowing Henry’s thoughts about his hated enemy, Emma isn’t going to play into it with him.  

“You have stolen property to report?” she asks coolly, setting the hook back into its velvet case.

“Indeed,” Gold replies smoothly, limping over to stand behind the counter. He glances to the hook, his lips lifting slightly to a cool smirk. “Exquisite, isn’t it?”

Emma ignores him. “Where’s the property, Mr. Gold?”

“You know, I’ve dealt with my fair share of criminals in my time, Ms. Swan,” he replies, his words slow and measured. “I often receive stolen property as a part of my work, from desperate souls trying to scrounge together any meagre existence they can. But this … this I was surprised to receive.”

He gestures to the hook. Emma frowns, a prickle of unease rising on the back of her neck. It’s not a lie, per say, but there’s an edge of dishonesty to Gold’s voice too, just as she heard over the phone earlier.

“It’s stolen? How do you know?”

Gold sighs, grimacing. “Ah. Well, I was actually mistaken. I thought it was stolen, but … it seems that I’ve brought you here for nothing. My apologies.”

He says it so casually, now smiling at her, innocent and nearly apologetic. Emma isn’t fooled. Whatever this hook is, whoever it belongs to, Gold is trying to make a point here. And Emma really isn’t in the mood for whatever it is.

She shakes her head, and turns on her heel. “Fine. Whatever. When you have a real complaint, Mr. Gold,” she continues, half-way to the door now, “then you can call me.”

She wrenches the door open, casting a dark glance behind her as she goes. Gold is still at the counter, though now he’s lifted up the hook, its sharp point gleaming in the window light.

“Will do, Sheriff. Will do.”

_____

After a boring and day of little to no work being achieved, Wes drops onto the couch in his living room, exhaustion dripping from his bones. He has no energy to make a meagre excuse of supper or even change out of his stiff clothes – he lies flat on his back, staring up at the wide beams of his ceiling, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Unlike the previous night, this time the exhaustion is overwhelming, and sleep comes easy.

And, just as easily, so do the nightmares.

He’s thrown into the dream immediately. It’s the man from the dream earlier that day, the curly haired man with the golden sextant. This is a much different dream, darker and heavier even amidst the sun-soaked, white-washed cabin. He and the man are discussing reporting something to a higher command, when the man suddenly drops to the floor, calling out a name Wes doesn’t know.

Killian, help –

Or does he know it?

He can’t dwell on it, as the dream carries on, his dream counterpart cradling the man as he dies in his arms, crying out for help that never comes. The deepest feelings of loss and grief and pain swell in his chest then, nearly crushing in their hollowness, and when he finally jolts awake, panting and confused, the grief doesn’t fade.

For a wild moment, with his apartment awash in the bright lights of his kitchen and living room, the thick wooden beams of his ceiling make him wonder if he’s back in that cabin, and he sits straight up. It takes seeing his books and belongings scattered around the room to set his mind straight. With a deep sigh, he scrubs at his eyes, finding them damp and his cheeks wet. He rubs the tears away, unnerved, and takes a steadying breath.

The dream, like the one from that morning, had felt so real, as if he was really there with that dying man. He had felt the loss and grief at this man’s death deep in his soul, the gaping hole it ripped into his life, as if he’d truly felt the feelings once before.

The name the dying man had shouted at Wes’s dream-self slips through his fingers like water as he tries to put his finger on it. He fumbles for it, desperate to latch onto it, but it’s totally gone, a whisper on the wind.

He lets out another sigh, and shakes his head. These dreams – he has had enough of them. He’s going to have to go see Dr. Whale soon about them soon; maybe he needs some sort of sleeping pill to knock him out to get a good night sleep, dreamless preferable.

Though perhaps he doesn’t need Whale’s medication for help right now … he hasn’t thought this in a long, long time, but Wes really needs a drink.

Before Regina helped him get the treasurer’s job, an unnecessary and cruel death he’s still not sure he’s ever gotten over had taken him down a dark, dangerous path. He’d drank heavily nearly every night, wasted away years and years of his life at the bottom of a bottle. Since getting the job, the long nights of wallowing and the resulting painful mornings have tapered off; it feels like it’s been decades since he’s actually had a drink, though he strangely can’t think that that’s quite right. It hasn’t been that long, has it?

He rises from the couch, and pads over to the kitchen. The cupboards are devoid of alcohol, a testament to his usual mindset, and he heads to the front door instead. His hand hovers over his black peacoat, but something comes over him, and grabs a black leather jacket, one he hasn’t worn in what feels like forever. The jacket settles snugly over his shoulders, a familiar feeling of confidence and pride as fitting as the jacket, and he heads out into the early evening air.

_____

Emma, though she’s getting tired by the time her shift ends, having been up since nearly dawn that morning, heads towards the Rabbit Hole anyways. She would prefer going home to sleep, but she made a commitment to her friends and she’s going to honour it.

(Seriously, who is she becoming?)

Ashley ended up not being able to make it – new baby and all – but Ruby and Mary Margaret have already claimed a table near the centre of the bar when Emma arrives. Both of them have clearly had a few drinks already, giggling at each other, and when Emma arrives, dropping her bag onto the table to announce her arrival, they turn their giggles to her.

“You got here just in time, Emma,” Ruby says, her voice low and suggestive. “Look who’s over at the bar.”

Emma sighs, already sure she knows who she is referring to, but twists in her seat to look behind her at the bar. Sure enough, Wes Newport, in an uncharacteristic black leather jacket, is sitting slumped slightly forward on his bar stool, head bent over a half-empty glass of amber liquid.

“I didn’t take him for a big drinker,” Mary Margaret says absently, taking a long sip from her own glass. “I think that must be his sixth or seventh drink, and he was here even before us.”

Emma frowns. Wes is facing away from them, and unless they had pointed him out, Emma’s not sure she’d have realized it was him. His posture is like that of a different person, far more casual and laidback than she’s ever seen him, and his leather jacket is highly out of character. Emma considers going over to see what has led him to drink alone, but she changes her mind. This is Ladies Night, after all. She turns back to the table, smiling and pulling the menu towards herself.

“So, what were you two laughing about?”

They exchange a look, Mary Margaret shaking her head with a small smile, casting a long look over to Wes, and Ruby sighing dramatically.

“What?” Emma demands.

Ruby presses the menu to the table, tugging it out of Emma’s hands, and looks at her pointedly. “Emma, just go say hello. It won’t kill you.”

She shakes her head, trying to pull the menu back. “No, no. It’s Ladies Night. I came here to spend time with you guys.”  

“And saying hello isn’t going to change that,” Mary Margaret says gently, resting a hand over the menu to flatten it to the table. “Go on.”

Emma hesitates, torn between her instinct to check on Wes and to stay. But Mary Margaret and Ruby are getting that look to their faces, and Emma sighs, getting to her feet.

Is this what it’s like to have friends? she thinks absently, feeling rather like a girl in high school sent off to go talk to her crush at the school dance. If this is it, she’s not sure if she likes it, not with the giggles following her all the way over to the bar.   

Wes doesn’t notice her right away, preoccupied staring into his glass. Emma wipes her hands on her jeans, finding them suddenly clammy and sweaty, before clearing her throat.

“Hey, Wes.”

He turns, quite unsteadily on the stool, and smiles in surprise. “Swan,” he says, leaning back slightly to get a better look at her, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the bar. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He’s quickly put on that face of his, the one she’s associated with him using to mask something being wrong, just like at the Farmer’s Market. Still, there is something dark and sorrowful in his eyes he isn’t quick or sober enough to conceal.

“You okay there, Wes?”

He tips his glass towards her, the liquid inside nearly spilling out onto the bar, and he slurs, “What makes you think I’m not perfectly fine?”

“You’re alone, drunk at a bar and it’s not even ten yet.” She looks him up and down, eyebrows raising. ”And you’re wearing leather.”

“I am not drunk,” he protests, but the thicker edge to his accent roughening his words simply makes Emma snort. “And I like this jacket. You certainly like leather, don’t you, Swan?”

Emma’s mouth falls slightly open at that, the undercurrent of his question loud and clear to her, and she’s temporarily at a loss for words, a situation Emma doesn’t find herself often in.

“Uh –”

He smiles at her dumbstruck expression, a dark smirk that sends shivers down her spine and settles low in her stomach. He leans towards her, holding out the glass to her in offering, and says, lowly, “Here for a drink, Swan?”

“No,” she says, firmly, but she’s unsure of whom she’s trying to be firm for, her or him. He looks unconvinced, and she adds, even though she doesn’t own an explanation, “I’m working early tomorrow.”

“So otherwise you would have one,” he notes, taking a swig of his glass again, swallowing with a wince at the bite of the drink. “Interesting.”

Emma rolls her eyes – so this is who he is as a drunk: a flirty mess. She picks up the glass when he sets it down, drawing it close and sniffing.

“Straight rum? Wouldn’t have taken you for the type.”

He blinks, slowly, and suddenly he’s staring at the glass as if he’s seeing it for the first time. He shakes his head, and a dark shadow crosses over his eyes, his grin fading into a frown, brows furrowing.

“I’m not,” he mutters darkly. “Not anymore, anyways. Don’t know what came over me tonight.”

Emma narrows her eyes at him, slightly unnerved by the sudden change in his demeanour. “Wes,” she says softly, leaning closer so she can stare at him, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes, the paleness to his skin. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Come on. This isn’t like you.”

“What isn’t?” he snaps, and Emma blinks, taken aback at his sudden sharpness, and she cross her arms over her chest, hackles rising.  

“The – well, the drinking until you’re almost unconscious for one. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

He lets out a cold laugh, low and dark, and this time the goosebumps that sends down her back are not as pleasant as before. “Oh, Swan. You don’t know me very well at all.”

“Right,” Emma says, her heart sinking. She’s not sure why that stung her so badly, and she shakes her head, taking a step back. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you be then –”

Before she can get too far, Wes’s fingers close firmly around her wrist, his hand strong and sturdy, tugging her back.

“No, wait – sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Emma.”

It’s the use of her first name that makes her pause, and she leans back against the bar. “Okay. But, Wes, what is going on? Is something wrong?”

He’s silent for a few moments, staring at the polished surface of the bar as if it holds answer to her question. Then he shakes his head, a wry chuckle escaping him. “You’ll think I’m mad.”

Emma doesn’t know quite what to say to that. She casts a glance over her shoulder to Ruby and Mary Margaret, who are watching her closely. They send her quizzical looks, and though Ladies Night is about making friends and having a good time with them … Emma know she can’t do that, not when Wes is sitting here, staring into the bottom of a glass.

After all, he’s her friend too.

She pulls back the seat beside him, dropping into it and bumping his shoulder with hers, as friendly as she can be.

“Try me.”

He smiles at her, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he closes his eyes, rubbing at them with his fingers. “You won’t like what I have to say. But … I think your lad’s stories are getting to me.”

Emma, who’d been adjusting her seat on the uncomfortable bar stool, bangs her knee hard against the bar. “He – what?”

“I told you you’d think I’ve lost it,” he mutters, and he opens his eyes again to meet Emma’s gaze. His eyes, half-blurry from all the alcohol, are dim and sad. “Even I think I’m losing it.”

True, Emma���s thoughts are headed in that same direction, or at least that he’s clearly heading into that crazy drunk phase, but she shakes her head in disagreement anyways.

“No, Wes. What do you mean? How has his stories ‘got to you’?”

He is quiet for a few moments, looking incredibly reluctant, before shaking his head with a dark grimace. “Just remember when you’re locking me up in the mad ward of the hospital – I was sane enough at one point to agree that I think I’ve lost it too.”

He drops his eyes down to focus on the polished bar instead of her and continues, “Ever since that day when you told me about your boy’s book, that day when we had coffee after the market, I’ve – I’ve been having dreams of pirate ships and swordfights and sailing and the like. Constantly. And I know it’s stupid, it’s crazy, but these dreams, they’re not just dreams. I don’t know how to describe it, they’re more like …” he pauses, and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just – I just have trouble getting to sleep these days because of it.”

Emma stares back at him, her heart racing. It’s illogical and unreasonable, but her thoughts instantly jump to a man who also told her he was having bad dreams, days before he dropped dead of a heart attack in her arms. She’s never questioned Graham’s strange comments before, but now, with Wes saying similar things too …

But before she can even think of something to say, her mind stuttering and tripping over whatever conclusion it’s trying to draw, when Wes lets out a dramatic sigh, and nearly falls off the barstool in the process. Emma’s quick reflexes steady him, and he slumps forward against the bar, groaning. His momentary clarity in telling her about his dreams seems to have faded, and he’s back to his drunken self, slumped and muttering.

Though her mind is still stuck on his comments of the dreams, Emma’s sheriff-ing instincts kick in. He’s in no state to remain here any longer, and certainly not up for any questions about whatever the hell those dreams are.

She tugs on his arm to make him sit upright again. “Alright, buddy. I think it’s time for you to go home.”

He grumbles but allows her to pull him to his feet anyways. After rummaging in his pocket for a moment, he withdraws his wallet and places enough bills down to cover his tab and then some.  “Fine.”

Emma hesitates, watching him stumble nearly back into the bar as he attempts to move away from her. She follows him a few more steps towards the door, side-stepping a few other patrons and nearly crashing right into Sidney Glass as he rises from his own table.

“Sorry, Sidney, excuse me. Wes, wait!” She hurries up to him, and grabs his arm, stopping him from leaving the bar. “How are you gonna get home?”

“Walk, I’spose,” he mumbles, stepping off into an unsteady teeter. “S’not far, I’ll make it.”

“You can barely walk two steps, let alone several blocks.” She shakes her head, and her mind is made up in an instant. “I’ll drive you. Wait here, I just need to grab my bag.”

He opens his mouth to protest but Emma is already moving away from him, and she re-joins Mary Margaret and Ruby at their table. To her relief, neither makes any dry comments, instead their brows furrowed in identical concern.

“Is he okay?” Mary Margaret asks worriedly. “He looks really out of it.”

Emma shoots a glance over her shoulder, gathering her purse. Newport has leaned against a table again, much to the apparent annoyance of its occupants, his head buried in his hand, and Emma frowns.

“I’m gonna give him a ride home. He’s … he just needs to go home and go to bed.” She starts to turn, but then faces Mary Margaret and Ruby again. “Sorry about Ladies’ Night. I – I really wanted to spend time with you both.”

“That’s okay,” Ruby says, smiling genuinely. “Next time.”

Emma smiles in gratitude, and then hurries back over to Wes. She rests a soft hand on his back, and he looks up to her with bleary eyes as she guides him out of the bar.

The cold air of the evening seems to sober him up just a bit, and as they approach her car, comes to a stop, scratching behind his ear, mouth in an uncomfortable grimace.

“Swan, thanks for the offer, but I’m fine, really –”

“Wes, shut up and get in the car.”

He turns his grimace to her then. “I really don’t –”

Emma, who is not letting him walk home in this state, sighs and unceremoniously shoves him into the passenger seat of her car. He protests again, but she cuts him off by slamming the door shut, and jogs around to the other end. Mercifully, he is quiet when she gets in, having settled himself against the cool glass window, his eyes pinched shut.

“Don’t pass out on me,” Emma says, elbowing him slightly to make sure he’s still awake; he mumbles something incoherent back to her. “Not until we’re at your place.”

She remembers where his apartment is from having dropped him off previously. He probably could have made it there himself, she reckons, but it is better to be safe than sorry. She’d much rather make sure he arrives and conks out there than have a call later about him passed out in the bushes.

When they arrive, Emma gets out of the car with him make sure he actually makes it into the apartment itself and he leads her to the third floor. He nearly wipes out twice on the stairs up, before finally stopping in front apartment five and leaning against the wooden door frame for support.

“Alright,” he grumbles. “I will concede that I may have had one drink too many.”

Emma snorts. “One. Try six.”

He pulls out a meagre key ring from his pocket, fumbling with them for a bit before finally finding the correct one to unlock the door. Emma hesitates at the door, before following him into the apartment. She figures she better at least make sure he’s got a glass of water and a couple aspirin for the morning before she leaves. That’s what friends do for their friends when they’ve had too much to drink, right?

His apartment is smaller than hers and Mary Margaret’s, and much emptier. A simple white couch is against the far wall, a faded wooden coffee table in front of it, cluttered with open books. Beside that is a white-stone fireplace, its mantle covered in even more books, and against the opposite wall is a closed door she assumes leads to the bathroom. Like Mary Margaret’s, a staircase leads up to a small loft area and Emma can see his neatly made bed up there, as well as a low set of drawers. Behind the stairs is his small kitchen, with a single white chair at the table against the wall.

As her gaze sweeps around, she notices Wes is standing somewhat uncertainly in the middle of the room, jacket half-off, as if he’s suddenly forgotten where he is.

“Wes?” Emma asks gently, coming up beside him. “Are you okay?”

He starts and shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “Aye. I just …” he trails off, and sighs. “I just need some sleep, I think. I haven’t slept a lot lately.”

He says it lightly, as if not remembering what he told her at the bar, and Emma swallows heavily. He’s in no state to discuss this dream business and saying that Henry is getting to him now, much as she wants to, and she nudges him towards the bathroom.

“That’s probably a good idea. You go get ready and I’ll get you some water.”

He moves away with a small nod, disappearing into the bathroom as Emma heads into the kitchen. She opens several cupboard doors before she finds the ones with the cups, and then starts the sink to get him some water.

As she waits for him to finish up in the bathroom, Emma looks around some more, unable to stop her curiosity.

It reminds her of somewhere, but where she cannot place. The apartment is as neat as she’d expect from Wes Newport, not even a cushion on the sofa at a wrong angle. But, it still doesn’t feel quite like what she thought. Apart from the sound of the running water in the bathroom, the apartment is entirely too quiet, and Emma rubs her arms against the sudden chill sent running down her spine.

She realizes, then, that it reminds her of her old apartment in Boston. It looks nothing alike, but the same emptiness fills the space. A place to sleep, to eat, to return to at the end of each day, but not a home. The only sign that this place is even lived in is the open books on the coffee table and a couple of dishes drying beside the sink. No loose sweaters strewn anywhere, no scribbled reminders pinned to the fridge, no pictures of any of his family or friends anywhere. In fact, the only picture at all is a large painting hanging above the white sofa. Looking at the painting further, a thrill of disbelief runs through her.

It is of a large, masterful ship at a rickety dock, and she recognizes it instantly: it looks exactly like the one from the museum and Henry’s book. The drawing has no colour, but it still has the distinctive bands on its hull that Emma knows to be yellow and red, and hell, even the rigging looks the same. She steps closer, and her hand rises up, almost touching the painting.

No way.

“Did you draw this?” she asks, before she can stop herself.

“Huh?” he calls from the bathroom, his voice muffled.

She searches the painting further, and finds the artist’s name in the bottom corner, declaring it the work of someone named Milah. She lets her hand drop, and she steps back, shaking her head.

“Never mind!”

Its likeness to the ship she’s seen multiple times now is stunning, and Emma is too unnerved to stay by it for any longer. First Gold pulling out a hook, Wes talking about pirate nightmares, and now seeing a picture of a pirate ship … Emma has had enough of that crap today.

She returns to the kitchen, gazing out the window over the sink. It has no curtains, and Emma can see the boardwalk and ocean outside. It’s a calm night, and the moonlight flickers brightly against the gentle waves of the water.

“It’s quite the view in the day,” Wes says from behind her, and Emma jumps a little, not having heard him exit the bathroom.

He’s changed now, into a loose black shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair damp and his face a little red from washing it. It’s the most dressed down she’s ever seen him; he has removed his prosthetic, the end of the sleeve of the long shirt hanging empty at his side.

“Nothing but ocean for miles.”

“Uh, I bet that’s nice.”

He nods, reaching out for the glass of water in her hand. “Thanks, love.”

Emma nods, and suddenly she’s not sure what to do with herself, standing in his apartment with him in his pyjamas and clearly ready for bed. “Um, do you have any aspirin?” she asks, if only for something to say. “For tomorrow morning.”

He nods and waves his left arm absently behind him. “Aye, upstairs.” He takes a drink from the glass, and then it towards her in a salute. “I’d ask you to stay for a real drink, but –”

Emma laughs, and his smile turns cheeky. “But you’ve had far too many already,” she finishes, smirking. “Maybe another time.”

“Another time?” he repeats, an eyebrow raising suggestively. “Is that so?”

She rolls her eyes, but inside she’s grinning despite herself. “Drinking turns you into a creep, got it. Now, are you able to climb those stairs by yourself or do I need to stick around to make sure you don’t break your neck by falling down them?”

He snorts at her. “I’ll be fine, Swan. Don’t worry about me.”

She smiles back, and with her job done – gotten him home, gotten him water, made sure he has pain killers for tomorrow – there’s no other excuse to linger.

“I suppose I better be going,” she says, and turns to face the door. “It’s getting late.”

He nods, walking with her to the door. As she opens it, he rests his hand on her arm, stopping her gently, and Emma glances up to him. He’s got an earnest expression to his face now, soft and warmer than she’s seen on him before.

“Thank you for getting me home safely, Emma. I appreciate it.”

Emma nods, and smiles warmly back at him. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

_____

From her car, parked across the street of Wes Newport’s apartment building, Regina watches Emma Swan leave the building about ten minutes after they arrived together. Emma doesn’t notice her as she gets into her own obnoxious yellow car and drives off, but Regina lingers, watching the lights remain on in Newport’s apartment.

She’s been unnerved by Newport’s attitude the past few weeks, ever since his friendship with Emma Swan had begun, and seeing Emma Swan leave his apartment, late at night, only makes her unease grow. She’d driven here to check in on this, after Sidney reported seeing them at the bar leaving together.

Not to make a pun, but this is getting out of hand. And not to make another pun, but she’d left this in Gold’s hands to handle, with no choice after he said the magic word – please.

So, she’d left her unease and discomfort with this situation with him, and look where it’s gotten her. Newport defying her wishes at every turn, lying to her about his whereabouts on the weekend, and now the two of them cozying up at the local bar before she drove him home after he drunk far too much, Wes acting more like the pirate he used to be than her treasurer.

Regina starts the car as the lights finally wink out in Newport’s apartment, content for now that there won’t be any more trouble this evening. She drives passed her house and out to her father’s mausoleum in the cemetery.

The cemetery is deserted, and as she steps into the vault, she takes a deep breath in of the damp smell, imagining it to be the tangy flavour of magic that she left behind so many years ago now.

Though, she thinks with a faint smirk, things are starting to change here. While she’s not pleased with that at all, the only advantage to this most unfortunate of situations is that with Emma Swan’s continued presence here in Storybrooke, Regina is finding that Gold’s pleases are losing their power. After all – she shouldn’t have been able to follow up on Sidney’s note of their presence together. His please should have kept her away.

But it didn’t.

And with that, with the final pun she’ll make about this, she knows she has the upper hand again, over Gold, over Emma Swan, over Wes Newport. Storybrooke is hers, as is everyone within this town, and she is not going to allow this, whatever this is between the sheriff and the treasurer to continue any further. Regina has had enough, and no matter the cost, no matter the price, she’s going to get her town back.

[oh-theatre]

Sycamore High: An Excuse (Chapter 37)

A/N: Hey looky here, I actually spent time and really worked hard on this chapter. I'm not proud, I don't think I'm ever proud of my writing but I did love doing this SO much. I love spending more time on writing, I used to do it and then lost that but now I'm back and hope you guys will like it! ALSO ALSO, This story is coming to end BUT there is a sequel already in the works so :)

summary: Finals Day 1

words:  3,961

warnings: Swearing, forced kissing, crying, yelling

Edited by: @theyreallidiots  (Thank you so much love!! You're amazing and it means so much!)

Ao3 Link

Finals Day 1…

“Not a word of it to Ted, ok?” Chad whispered, Henry wanted to protest but the look Chad gave him made him decide otherwise. He finished cleaning up the dishes, Chad packed his things. Ted returned holding his own belongings, Chad sighed walking over to him. “Your hair...kiddo” He mumbled trying his best to fix the mess Ted called hair. Ted pouted swatting his hand away.

“Hey hey, don't mess with the signature look” He complained, reversing any work Chad had just done. Henry watched the pair, his heart tugging at him. He couldn't help but think of it. Chad had always wanted kids, he made that clear when they got together. Henry, on the other hand, wasn't so sure. He didn't hate kids, he just wasn't sure of himself. His parents weren't the best examples, until Chad came along Henry was practically a robot modeled by his parents. But then he fell for that stupid theatre kid, who greeted him the first time he walked into the auditorium. Now here they are, years later, married. Not married. No the past 24 years of blissful marriage were a lie, and he knew that this shouldn't have changed anything. But it sat itching the back of his mind, you're not married, he is not the father. He was still the same man, and yet here Henry stood doubtful. It wasn't fair to Ted, and it wasn't fair to Chad.

“Ready to go dearest?” Chad asked sweetly, extending his hand. Henry took it without hesitation letting him lead him to the door. Chad looked back at the frozen Ted. “Kiddo?” Ted shuffled for something in his bag but grumbled.

“Forgot something in dad’s office” He informed “Be right back” He rushed out of the room scrambling down the hall. Chad chuckled turning back to Henry. He studied his face, his blank expression, the way his eyes sat firmly in one spot.

“Whatcha thinking about love?” Chad inquires, cupping his face gently. Henry averts his gaze, shuffling his feet. “Henry? Henry, I know you, what's wrong?” His voice was firm. He shook his head, feeling able to move once more.

“Nothing, everything is fine” Henry assured, both men knew he was lying but before Chad could try again, Ted returned. Both professors turned to him expectantly, his face was unreadable holding a piece of paper. “Ted?”

“I wasn't trying to snoop…” He mumbled, his eyes were glazed over, he couldn't pin down what he was feeling. “I thought it was on your desk… but I… found this?” He holds up the paper, Chad bites his lips. Henry squeezes his hand, the adoption papers trembled in Ted's hand. Chad stepped forward. “I'm not really sure I understand it...Its... it's confusing…” He admits, his voice hitches. Chad moves forward again, Henry follows.

“Ted...come sit” Chad offers, moving himself to the couch. Ted stares, but nods. Henry follows, Ted sits in the middle of the pair, a tight grasp on the papers. Chad takes a deep breath, he opens the papers still in Ted's hand. “Let's go over this slowly ok?” Ted swallows nodding.

“Ugh! I don't get it!” Ted exclaims, Chad peeks his head out through the kitchen. He takes off his over mitts sitting next to his son on the table. He takes a peek at what Teds working on, Ted moves the paper towards him. “I just don't understand math ok?” He sighs rubbing his head.

“Let me see” Chad requests, he takes the papers studying them diligently. He nods, taking another pencil. Henry watches from the counter. “Let's go slowly ok? Don't think of doing it all at once, break down the problem” He demonstrates with one of the problems, Ted tries next. Henry smiles as Chad works carefully with Ted, calming him down, reassuring him. Even when he got frustrated.

“Which would mean that x equals 6.4 and y equals 5.8!” Ted finishes, he turns brightly to Chad “Right?” Chad laughs smiling.

“Exactly, good job Ted” He congratulates, he sits a little longer just in case.

“So… so there… there was a p-problem...with me?” Ted manages, Chad shook his head softly. He pointed to something on the paper.

“Never Ted, look” He shows him another paper “Henry and I…” He looks over at his...at Henry biting his lip. “Henry and I... aren't technically married” He explains, feeling that pull again

“H-how is that possible?” Ted asked turning to Henry, who raises his eyebrows. He didn't know how to explain it, not calmly. “You showed me photos! You were both there!” He claims, Chad nods.

“Yes but apparently… we never got a real marriage certificate. It's very confusing but when we went to get our marriage certificate we were told we were married but it wasn't true” Chad rambled, Henry hated the part that came next. “Our marriage license was real, but we looked into it and the clerk who was meant to ‘sign off’ on our marriage” He sighed “Forged it, he um… he didn't agree with our way of living” Oh.

“Oh…” Ted muttered, his mind began racing. “How was that even allowed? How did you go through 24 years without there ever being a problem?” Ted rushed, Chad took his shoulders.

“There were problems but we could never figure out what it was and it went away eventually,” Henry explained, he felt the need to participate. “But this won't go away” He gestured to the paper. Ted turned to him, he had one simple question.

“So what are you going to do?” Henry and Chad shared a knowing glance. Married or not, they still had these moments, those moments where you know exactly what the other is thinking.

“We’re going to get married,” they said in unison, both sharing a smile.

~~~

“Paul, please! Just listen!” Marley begged Paul scoffed one foot already at the door.

“No! I don't wanna see him, I don't wanna talk to him! You and Alice do whatever the fuck you want but I have school” He huffed pulling away from his mother. He stormed out, Marley frantically following him. She grabbed his arm carefully, turning him towards her.

“First of all language!” She scolded, he sighed tapping his foot impatiently “I know you don't want to, and you don't have to! I just wanted to make sure, I would never ask you to do it Paul” She insisted, he softened in her grasp. “Good luck with finals, ok? I'll pick you and Alice up and we can go out for dinner, alright?” He nodded, the idea bringing a small inkling of joy.

“Love you mom” He told her, she released him smiling sadly. He slid into his car, throwing his things in the back. He pulls out his phone. He wonders what the group chat name is this week. Ted enjoys changing it every week.

Stressed, Depressed and A Mess

Paul: Mood on the name Teddy boi

Bill: Was there something you needed Paul?

Paul: Just wanted to know if any of yall needed me to pick you up

Ted: Busy, can't talk

Bill: I could use a ride if that's alright

Paul: Yeppers be there soon

He goes to close his phone but received another message. A message from an unknown name pops up.

The Fuckiest of Fuckers

Oh… never mind

Em: Hey babe, I know this is super last minute but could I get a ride?

Paul: Always and forever

Em:  I need a ride, I need a ride, I need a ride

Em: Haha that was so funny

Paul: Pick you up soon

He chuckled finally stuffing his phone away, pulling out of the driveway. He picked up Emma first, receiving a kiss on the cheek. She sat in the passenger's seat choosing the music, and Paul thanked god he wasn't picking up Ted. There would be a war.  Bill was next, seeing as he lived the farthest away, and he sleepily joined them sitting in the back seat.

“Everyone gucci?” Paul asked as he pulled away from Bill's house. Emma turned the music down a bit, Bill buckled himself in.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, “No Ted?” He inquired, Paul looked at him through the mirror shaking his head. “Hmm, everyone ready for finals?” Emma laughed dryly.

“Never” She answered, Paul, nodded in agreement. Bill chuckled softly pulling out a book from his bag. The rest of the ride was relaxing, Emma played soft music, Bill read in the back, Paul drove. They stopped for coffee picking up more orders than expected, in fairness it was Emma's fault. She asked the group chat if they wanted anything, and Charlotte, Jackie, and Ted were all eager to get some caffeine. They arrived at school soon after, setting up outside the lockers. Jackie and Charlotte joined them. They sat in their usual circle of lawn chairs, two empty for Ted and Tommy.

“Your coffee m’ lady” Paul served, handing Charlotte her drink. “And one bitch juice for Jackie” He joked handing Jackie her own drink. She took a giant sip staring him dead in the eye.

“Hey Paul, did you make this?” She asked “It does taste a little bitchy, with a hint of fucker”

“Language!” Charlotte and Bill finally yelled. Jackie and Paul shrunk in their seats, their faces heating up. Ted arrived shortly after, grumbling as he sat in his chair. “You alright?” Bill questioned, Ted, buried his face his arms. Paul and Bill shared a look, simply patting him on the back.

“I hate literally everything” His voice muffled, Paul nodded. “I just wanna go home and sleep” The group snapped in agreement. Charlotte glanced at the empty chair, her heart sinking.

“No Tommy again?” She inquired, Ted looked up, the dark under bags of his eyes becoming prominent. He shook his head no. “Oh… sorry”

“Way to make it awkward bubbles” Jackie whispered, Charlotte swat her pouting. She chuckled, kissing her girlfriend on the cheek “I'm only kidding” Ted wasn't going to lie, it hurt just a bit. Guess now he knew how Bill felt. Emma and Paul teasing each other sharing their own private secrets. Jackie and Charlotte giggling, smothering each other with kisses. He missed Tommy, he hadn't seen or talked to him in almost 2 weeks. He was at school, he knew that much but every time he tried…

“Oh my god I'm going to kill Alice” Paul muttered, Emma, peaked over raising an eyebrow “She keeps insisting I see my dad-” His eyes widen, Ted and Bill turn both on high alert.

“Your dads back?!” Ted screeches, “Are you ok? Do you need help? You can stay at my house” Ted offers frantically, Bill nods. Charlotte and Emma eyed the three of them. Paul hates to admit he suddenly feels a weight lifted.

“I’m fine, guys, really” He assures, Ted sighs leaning back. “I'm not seeing him, but Alice insists I give him another chance” He gestures, throwing his hands up. Emma takes it squeezing it gently. He gives her a grateful smile. “I didn't want to tell anyone, because of finals…”

“I’m sorry dude,” Ted says, Paul gives him a smile. He curses himself, what a shitty excuse he was. Ted doesn’t tell him something and Paul freaks out, but the other way around? Ted’s a fucking angel. “But seriously, you can stay over at my house until he’s gone”

“Thanks, if Alice convinces mom to that family dinner, I might take you up on that offer” He joked, Ted smirks. Bill glares, not at Paul but for Paul. “Hey, buddy... you good?”

“Moriarty, not Sherlock” Is all Bill mutters, and to everyone else it means nothing. But Paul and Ted share a knowing look.

~~~

“Raise your hand if you one-hundred percent just failed your final” Ted announces plopping his lunch down at the table. Everyone except for Bill raises their hand. Ted nods, affirming his doubts. Everyone has their lunches out, and some kind of study guide. Ted follows suit, taking out his own math guide. “Look, it's just two more days of tests and then two free days and then summer!” He tries, lazy ‘woos’ are echoed. They worked silently, occasionally looking up to talk with one another or eat.

“Ted, can I talk to you?” A voice asked from behind. He glances up, his eyes turned fiery. Billy stands holding his lunch in his hands, staring expectantly. Paul and Bill stand, glaring. Emma cracks her knuckles (she wouldn't actually punch him, but man she wishes she could).

“What do you want?” Ted spits, he literally spits. Nothing comes of it but there was an effort. Billy eyes the group but sighs.

“I just want to talk, ok?” He raises a white flag with his face, Ted nods.

“Fine-”

“Ted” Bill and Paul warn in unison, he holds up his hands nodding. They sit down doubtful but watch him follow Billy out of the cafeteria. Billy leads him to a secluded corner, Ted becomes warier as they continue.

“Ok, what do you want?” He asked, his voice his firm and annoyed. He might have given Billy the chance to speak to him, but not a lot of time.

“I wanted to apologize,” Billy informs, Ted folds his arms waiting “I am sorry” And so he goes on to list and apologize sincerely to Ted. It's a good one too, one Ted surprisingly appreciates. Once he’s finished, Ted assumes it's over but Billy stops him from leaving. “How did you know?” His voice is softer now, almost chilling.

“Know what?” Ted wonders as Billy shuffled his feet, kicking the ground. He fails to meet Ted's eyes.

“How did you...know you were…” He can't finish, as if the word is too revolting. Ted's face falls annoyed, as his arms rejoin his side.

“Bisexual” He scoffs, Billy swallows nodding. “I mean, I suspected for a while and told my friends and family but I wasn't sure until…” Ted trails off, his mind picturing exactly when he knew. Under the willow tree, sitting with Tommy. He cupped his face, locking their lips together. A sad flutter was felt, a soft moan escaped Ted's mouth. “I wasn't sure until I kissed Tommy” Ted confirmed, Billy finally met his eyes. He had never seen the teen look so small. He expected a response, or some kind of joke. He didn't expect to suddenly be pulled into a kiss, his lips meeting Billys. It was rough, hard, almost painful. It wasn't Tommy. Once he registered what was happening, he pulled away immediately. He stared baffled at a very regretful Billy, he shook his head leaving instantly. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to go.

~~~

“He kissed you?” Paul questioned as the group walked home. The trio of boys were planning a study session and had decided to do it at Paul's house.

“He kissed me” Ted recollected, nodding his head.

“Are you going to tell Tommy?” Paul pressed, the three of them were just staring ahead.

“Yes...maybe… I don't know” Ted sighed, He stuffed his hands in his pocket “Not like he’d care” He mumbled “I feel like lately, he's just looking for an excuse… and this could be what he needs to end it...”

“Does that mean he’s gay?” Paul inquired, he had a whole list of questions formulating in his mind.

“Doesn’t justify his actions” Bill chimed, Ted turned to him.

“No one said it did, and I don't know” Ted shrugged, he didn't know a lot about this situation. Paul nodded processing, he went to ask another question but Bill wasn't done.

“That’s sexual harassment” He claimed

“Bill-”

“It is Ted, it was forced upon you” He argued, Paul actually agreed. Ted wanted to protest. “Look, whether or not he’s gay or whatever doesn’t excuse the fact that-” He stopped, holding up a finger “He bullied you and Tommy, and-” he held up two fingers now “Forced a kiss on you, when you clearly didn’t want it” Bill explained, Ted hated the fact that he was right. They kept walking passing by Tommy's house, Ted stopped.

“Ok, I'll be right back, I'm going to go talk to him” Ted declared, Bill and Paul nodded assuring him they would go to Emma's house quickly before returning. He waved them goodbye, knocking on the door. It opened after a moment.

“Ted? What are you doing here?” Tommy asks bluntly, Ted realized how long it had been since he’d seen Tommys face upfront. Able to stare and admire his features, the twinkle in eyes, the way he’s brows furrowed adorably.

“I wanted to see you…” He admitted, his eyes gazing towards his lips. Tommy sighed before ushering him in. They stood face to face now in the living room. “How...how are you?” Ted tries

“I’m busy Ted so…” Tommy said, Ted bit back his lip.

“You're always busy, you know, I haven't seen you in two weeks” Ted blurts, Tommy looks taken aback. He wrings his fingers. “I think I might have actually forgotten your face”

“Ted don't be ridiculous” He chided, his voice was annoyed. “I’m sorry that I have finals” His voice wasn't sorry, it felt rehearsed.

“We all do! Doesn't mean we isolate our boyfriends!” He shouted Tommy scoffed rolling his eyes. They went back and forth, the argument heating up. Ted only noticed Tommy's tear after the blur from his own tears cleared.

“I'm busy ok?! Not everyone has parents who don't care about their grades”, “I get it, you're busy! You have to study! Doesn't mean you ignore me!” “I'm sorry I can't be your perfect ray of sunshine 24/7 Ted!” “You're not even making an effort!” “I'm trying ok?” “Trying is ignoring me?” “Trying is focusing on school! I don't revolve around you Ted”

“Billy kissed me!” Tommy's face fell, he stumbled back.

“What?” He barely whispered, he shook. “A-are you ok?” He came forward, he still kept his distance but his face changed. It wasn't anger or frustration, it was concern. Now Ted's heart hurt.

“I’m fine, not that you would care” He cursed himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Because the soft sobbing, as Tommy clasped his mouth, said otherwise.

“Of..of course I care” he cried, “You think I don't care?” His voice raised in volume now. “If I get anything less than a perfect ‘A’, my parents would kill me, so maybe you should just go” His face was blank now, Ted couldn't read it. He shook his head making his way for the door, as he opened his heart broke just a little bit “I care so much” Tommy whispered as Ted shut the door.

~~~

“Don't want to talk about it?”

“Nope, let's just get to studying,” Ted said as they stood outside of Paul's house. Bill shot him a reassuring look as Paul unlocked his door, fumbling with his keys.

“Ugh, I really hate-” He paused as he opened the door, his face fell. Sitting in the kitchen was Alice, Marley and… Joe. Ted instinctively put a protective hand on Paul's shoulder, Bill was on alert.

“Paul I am so-” His mother tried but Paul simply shook his head. He couldn't speak, he never could around Joe. He could feel his heartbeat pumping in his chest, the blood filling his ears. He wasn't there anymore, he was little being yelled at, huddling close to his mother. Not his mother now, Paul had buried himself in Ted, who wrapped his arms around him.  

“Why is he here Ms.Matthews?” Bill asked politely, Ted did his best to comfort Paul.

“It was my idea Paul” Alice came forward, she looked sadly at her brother “You would never see him on your own…”

“So you ambushed him?!” Ted accused, he cursed himself lowering his voice feeling Paul flinch in his arms, he whispered an apology.

“I-i didn't mean it like that” Alice persisted, she looked to Paul “Paul come on… look at me” But he didn't, Ted tightened reminiscing himself on the scene. When the two of them were little, clutching onto each other for an ounce of safety. Paul mumbled something into Ted, but he understood.

“We are leaving” He decided firm, “Ms.Matthews, Paul will be at my house” Ted explained. Though sad, she nodded gratefully. Bill left last making sure they weren't being followed before taking Paul's car and driving to Ted's house. Ted hadn't driven in a while and drove slowly, much to his own annoyance. Bill sat in the back cradling the frightened teen, something had washed over him. Something made him crawl back to the little boy he once was, the little boy he worked so hard to leave behind.

~~~

New Chat

Em: is he going to be ok?

Ted: Yeah, he's staying over at my house for now

Em: Can I see him?

Ted: Probs not tonight sorry, he's not really up to seeing anyone

Em: Understandable

Em: Tell him I love him

Ted couldn't help but smile. He nodded to himself showing the text to a sleepy Paul. Paul gave him the tiniest smile, burying himself a little further into the bed. Ted, Paul, and Bill sat on Ted's bed. Paul was in the middle leaning on Ted, Bill and Ted were on either side.

Ted: He knows, and he loves you too :)

Em: Fucking dork

Ted: Correction, fucking useless

Ted: Gotta go, see you tomorrow

Em: Farewell

“Can't sleep, watch?” Paul mumbled Ted chuckled nodding. He stood moving to the small tv on his wall, grabbing the remote. He passed it to Bill, who switched to Netflix. “Mmm ‘Big Mouth’?” Paul suggested Bill and Ted shrug nodding. Once the show is found, they huddle close watching tv for the rest of the night.

~~~

“Izzie! How many times have I told you not to touch Token?” Jackie scolded seeing the mess scattered on her floor. Dirt was spilled everywhere, glass shattered. Izzie stood on the other side of the room cradling Token pouting, on the verge of tears. “You have to clean this up!”

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!” Izzie cried Token slithered around her shoulders trying to comfort the little one. “You never let me play with Maggie or Token!” She defended, Jackie softened. Walking carefully around the mess she walked over to her sister, carrying her to the bed. She sat comfortably on the bed, Token nestled in Izzies arms.

“Look, I’m sorry…” Jackie comforts “But you need to be more careful ok?” Izzie nods, she hands Token to Jackie who takes the corn snake happily. Izzie hops off the bed.

“I'll go get the cleaning supplies!” She exclaims, rushing out of the room. Jackie chuckles setting Token down on her bed.

“You'll be back in your home soon” She comforts the slithery snake. She pets him sweetly pulling away when her phone buzzes.

Bubbles

Bubbles: Jackie, Jackie, J!

J: Char, what's wrong?

Bubbles: Ok, so I was just sitting at my desk doing homework and then my phone rings and it's an unknown number so I pick it up cautiously and its Sam! And he wants to talk to me tomorrow and alone and I'm scared

J: Ok bubs, I need you to take a deep breath. I won't let him do anything, ok? You won't go alone no matter what. And we can just talk to the principal in the morning if you really feel scared.

Bubbles: Thank you

Izzie rushes back, holding a bucket and a bunch of supplies. Jackie gives her a big thumbs up before turning back to her phone.

J: I gotta go, but I love you

Bubbles: Love you too

Neither of them registered what they had just confessed until the next morning.  

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Long Way Back, Pt.3

Alice's Tower. Continued. Prince Charming: “How did you end up here?” Alice: “When I was a little girl, I was playing beside a frozen lake when I fell in. My brother dove in and rescued me but I was very ill. He sought out a witch known to have healing powers for help. My brother had no money to pay her with, so the witch took me as her price... and I’ve been here ever since.” Prince Charming: “What about your brother, where is he now?” Alice: “Off travelling the realms, trying to find a way to get me out of here.” Prince Charming: “Well surely he could climb up and rescue you, or you could climb down?” Alice: (Shakes her head:) “My brother used to visit me every day, bring me whatever he could. The witch had used powerful magic to trap me here, and after several years, I began to give up hope. That’s when my brother heard about the night root and convinced me to try it. (At David’s look:) I saw what you were digging up. But it didn’t work and soon after that, the witch decided to separate my brother and I permanently.” Prince Charming: “And since then you’ve been up here all alone?” Alice: (Nods:) “Except for days when the witch visits me.” Prince Charming: “You don’t have to worry about her anymore. I’m getting you out of here.” Alice: (Grabs Prince Charming’s arm:) “You don’t understand. She won’t let me. Whenever I try to leave, she… (Suddenly, the candles go out. Prince Charming looks out of the window. A hooded figure approaches the tower. The figure wears a violet gown with white pattern woven in. Draped in an earth-brown cloak, the figure’s clothing matches the night root’s appearance:) It’s too late. She knows you’re here!” (The hooded figure climbs up the tower.)

Neverland. Past. Continued. (Walking with Hook's flask in her hand, Emma makes her way over to Regina who is now sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree.) Emma: (Offering her the flask:) "Here." Regina: "I'm fine, thank you." Emma: "Yeah, well I'm not. Can't you change this into cider or something? I need a drinking buddy." (Staring at Emma curiously, Regina holds out her hand for the flask. Taking it, she waves her hand over it as Emma takes a seat next to her on a nearby log.) Regina: (Handing the flask back:) "Here." Emma: "Thanks." Regina: "What happened?" Emma: "Hook just tried to kiss me." Regina: "What?" Emma: (Shrugs:) "I guess he figured I owed him something for saving David's life." Regina: (Glaring over to where she last saw Hook:) "Quite the hero." Emma: (Taking a sip from the flask:) "Yeah. I think he got the message though." (Regina looks at her, waiting for an explanation, but Emma merely hands her the flask.) Regina: (After a long sip, awkwardly:) "Do... Do you want to talk about Neal?" Emma: (Surprised:) "What?" Regina: "Well, there's been a lot going on recently and... he was Henry's father. I just wondered if you wanted to take a moment and-" Emma: (Cutting in:) "I don't want to talk about it. (At Regina's look:) I meant what I said earlier, I'm more upset for Henry's sake than my own." Regina: "Even so, losing your first love is not something you just get over. Despite all the time that's passed, I still think about Daniel." Emma: "Yeah, but Daniel didn't get you pregnant then let you go to prison for him before he died, did he?" Regina: "Well, no. (They stop talking for a long moment, passing the flask between them, taking sips from it:) Perhaps if he did I wouldn't have minded mother killing him so much? (At this, Emma almost spits out her drink and the two women share a chuckle. Looking up and leaning her head against the tree:) God, maybe I am changing. Before now I could never have made light of that time in my life." Emma: "Perhaps you're finally starting to let him go?" Regina: (Softly:) "Maybe." Emma: "You know, I couldn't help overhearing you and... your friend last night." Regina: "You mean Tinker Bell?" Emma: "Yeah, it’s still weird to hear that name." Regina: "What did you hear?" Emma: "Oh, something about some guy with a lion tattoo?" Regina: "Mm, that." Emma: (Watching Regina take a sip from the flask:) "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it." Regina: (Shaking her head:) "It's nothing. (Takes a deep breath:) Back when I was at my lowest ebb, Tinker Bell came to my room one night and gave me an opportunity to find love and happiness again. A fresh start, she called it." Emma: "So what happened?" Regina: "She took me to some tavern and told me that my 'soul mate' would be seated inside." Emma: "And they'd be the one with the lion tattoo on their arm?" Regina: (Nods:) "That's what she said." Emma: "But you didn't go in?" Regina: (Shakes her head:) "That was the moment. I could've done it right there. I could've just let go and buried all my anger and hatred forever. That was my chance." Emma: "What stopped you?" Regina: (Thinks a moment:) "At first I put it down to fear of the unknown, but since seeing Tink again I've thought about it a little more." Emma: "And?" Regina: "Everything in my life up until that point had been decided for me by outside forces. I didn't want my soul mate to have been picked by pixie dust. Back then I may have chosen anger and revenge, but it was my choice. I made a promise to myself that I would always be the one to decide who I loved. I fulfilled that promise the day I chose Henry." Emma: (Smiles:) "And because of you he knows we're here and we're coming for him. Thank you." Regina: "Don't thank me yet. We're still a long way from finding him." Emma: (Nods:) "I've been thinking about what you said earlier about our magic. Do you think you can teach me how to control mine?" Regina: "I've never really taught anyone magic before, but I did learn from the very best. (Considers:) All right, Emma, you're on. First thing tomorrow morning, we start your training."

Enchanted Forest. Present. Alice’s Tower. Continued. (The hooded figure climbs up the tower approaching Prince Charming and Alice.) Alice: (Panicked:) “I should never have called you. I’m the one she wants. (Pulls Charming away from the window:) If you leave now, maybe she’ll spare you.” Prince Charming: “No, that’s not the way this works. I’m getting you out of here.” Alice: “Please, she’ll kill you. You can’t save me. There’s nothing you can do.” Prince Charming: “No, I can save you and I will.” (Prince Charming leans out of the window, lashing out with his sword. Hitting nothing, he first looks down seeing no opponent. Carefully, Prince Charming looks upwards instead when the hooded figure attacks. Prince Charming crashes back first against the tower’s wall. Entering the tower, the hooded figure now faces Alice. As Prince Charming tries to get up, he attempts to get hooded figure’s attention.) Prince Charming: (Shouting:) “Hey! Get away from her.” (The hooded figure turns around to face Prince Charming.) Night Root Alice: “I am her.” Prince Charming: “Alice, it’s not a witch. It’s you. You said she re-appeared after you had the night root. You thought it didn’t work, but it did. The root allows you to overcome your fears by facing them.” Alice: “I can’t. Please help me.” Prince Charming: “She’s your fear. Only you can defeat her. You have to face her, Alice. You must.” Alice: (Scared:) “No, I can’t. (Finally getting to his feet, Prince Charming launches himself at Night Root Alice tackling the hooded figure out of the window. Night Root Alice begins to climb back up the tower, slowly getting closer to Alice. Prince Charming remains behind, clinging to the lower part of the tower.) Prince Charming: (Shouting:) “Listen to me. Your fear is what’s keeping you here. Own it and you can do this.” Alice: “No, I can’t.” Prince Charming: “Yes, you can. Let it go. If you do, you can finally have what you want. You can leave this tower.” Alice: “I don’t want to leave!” Prince Charming: “I understand. Believe me, I do. To be frightened of an uncertain future. It may feel safe here, but if you don’t face that future, Alice, you will die. Alone. Is that what you want?” Alice: “No.” Prince Charming: “You know what you have to do. Do it!” (Just as the hooded figure reaches the window, Alice hauls back and punches Night Root Alice, causing her to fall backwards, hurtling towards the ground before turning to dust.)

Alice: “I did it!” Prince Charming: (Smiling up at her:) “Yes you did!” (Tentatively, Alice puts a hand out of the window but is repelled by the magic keeping her inside the tower.) Alice: “But I’m still trapped!” Prince Charming: “That’s all right, you’ve done the hardest part. You’ve overcome your fear.” Alice: (Sees Charming climb down from the tower:) “You’re leaving?” Prince Charming: “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” Alice: “Where are you going?” Prince Charming: “I know a powerful sorceress, she’ll be able to free you.” Alice: “Are you sure she’ll help you?” Prince Charming: “I give you my word, she’s family. I’ll be back by morning and then you’ll finally be able to start living your life again.” (Alice watches David leave, allowing herself to believe for the first time in years that her time in the tower is finally coming to an end. Noticing the spyglass beside her, Alice picks it up and uses it to look out of her window.) Alice: “Good evening, Trees. And you, Stars! My, you’re rather chatty tonight, aren’t you? (Gasps, speaking to an old Top Hat:) Do you know what the stars say today is, Mr. Hatter? Well, the Second Star to the Right is blinking to the north. Which can only mean one thing. (Closing the shutters on the window and turning in to the room:) Today is my birthday!” Storybrooke. Recent Past. Mills House. Foot Of The Stairs. (Regina heads down the staircase to double check the door is locked when she notices Emma pacing the foyer.) Regina: "Emma? I thought you’d gone?” Emma: (Stops pacing and notices the Mayor’s pajamas:) “I can see that.” Regina: (Pulling her gown together:) “Is there something you wanted?” Emma: “Actually…yeah. We need to talk.” Regina: “Emma, we agreed that Henry should be in his own bed in familiar surroundings.” Emma: “No, I know that. I meant that we need to talk.” Regina: (Frowns:) “All right.” Emma: (Awkwardly:) “There’s something that… I need to tell you. Something that can’t wait.” Regina: “Miss Swan, after what we’ve just been through, I doubt that there’s anything you have to say that could shock-” Emma: “I think I’m falling for you.” Regina: (Shocked, softly:) “What?” Emma: “I know. And I know you lied to me when we were together before I… well, before I believed in magic. And yeah, it makes zero sense when you think about it. (She begins pacing again:) You cast a curse that ruined countless lives, including my parents, which caused a series of events that lead to me spending the majority of my life alone. I mean, My God, I should hate you, right?” Regina: (Nods:) “And yet?” Emma: (Stops pacing:) “And yet, when I see how much you love our son, how there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to save and protect him, how could I possibly hate that?” Regina: (Descending the stairs by one cautious step:) “But you’re right about me, Emma. I did all of those terrible things. I did lie to you, to Henry, about who I am.” Emma: “Yeah, but the crazy thing is… I don’t care about who you were. Maybe me not knowing who you were was part of it. So that I could see past the Evil Queen and only know the woman you are now. The woman who loved and raised my son when I couldn’t. (Correcting herself:) Our son.” Regina: (Shakes her head:) “How can you just ignore everything you now know about me?” Emma: “Because I understand you, Regina. I know what it’s like to be betrayed and abandoned by the ones who should love us most. I know exactly how it feels having to do everything by yourself, alone. And that’s what I was until I came to Storybrooke: Alone.” Regina: “Until Henry brought you home.” Emma: “Yes, and because he did, because of how we met, what if we were never destined to destroy each other at all? What if we were meant to save each other?” Regina: (Considers:) “What if you breaking the curse was just the beginning?” (Emma nods. There is silence between them for a long moment as they stare at each other.) Emma: “And, since I’m being totally honest here, when I saw you reach into Pan’s chest?” Regina: “Yes?” Emma: “That was one of the sexiest damn things I’ve ever seen.” (The women share a smile. Then, slowly, Regina holds out her hand.) Regina: “I think it’s time we made our own destiny, don’t you?” Emma: (Taking her hand, smiling:) “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” (Regina squeezes Emma’s hand, turns and quietly leads the savior upstairs.)

Upstairs. (Making their way quietly up the stairs, Regina leads Emma towards her bedroom. Stopping outside Henry's door, Emma squeezes Regina's hand and motions that she wants to check on him. Nodding, Regina releases Emma's hand and continues on to her bedroom.) Henry's Bedroom. (Opening the door, Emma peers her head inside to see Henry sleeping soundly in his bed. Satisfied he's all right, Emma leaves the room. Taking a deep breath, Emma steadies her nerves before heading for Regina's room.) Regina's Bedroom. (Entering, she is met with complete darkness. Closing the door behind her, Emma blindly reaches for the light switch.) Emma: (Whispering:) "Regina? Where are you?" Regina: (From across the room:) "I'm right here." Emma: (Moving toward the sound of Regina’s voice, winces in pain as she knocks into a chest of drawers:) "Ow!" Regina: (Calmly:) "Here, let me help you." (Rubbing her shin, Emma looks up when the lights are turned on to see Regina stood in the bathroom doorway, completely naked. Immediately forgetting about the pain in her leg, Emma stares at the backlit visage before her.) Emma: "I guess that means we're not taking things slowly." Regina: (Smirks, approaching her:) "And have you leave me to flirt with the pirate and the tramp again?" Emma: (Protesting:) "I didn't-" Regina: (Placing a finger on her lips:) "Shh, no talking. And you're entirely over-dressed." Emma: (Taking Regina's hand in hers:) "Shouldn't we at least talk about-" (Suddenly, Regina surges forward running a hand through Emma's hair while laying kisses along her jaw, chin and cheek before finally their lips meet in a breathless, yearning kiss. Emma wraps an arm around the naked beauty as they move towards the bed, Regina continuing her exploration of Emma's body with her mouth. Waving her hand, Regina vanishes Emma's turtleneck sweater while her lips kiss along newly exposed flesh.) Emma: (Gasping, smiles:) "Cheater." Regina: (Nods:) "You're right. (Kissing across Emma's chest, on her way to reclaiming her lips with her own:) No more magic, I promise." (Before Emma can reply, Regina resumes her descent. Kissing along her throat, down between the valley of her breasts all the while her hands work feverishly at Emma's jeans. Raising her hips, Emma watches as Regina tugs them down along with her underwear, closing her eyes as she lays naked on the bed.) Regina: (Softly:) "Open your eyes. (Opening her eyes, Emma sees Regina staring down at her:) My god, all this time... I never knew just how much I love you." Emma: (A wide smile:) "I love you, too." (Sitting up, Emma reaches for Regina and they kiss, their bodies intertwined, hands caressing, Emma gently moves Regina to lay beneath her, their kisses more and more passionate before the room goes dark.)

A Short Time Later. (Laying together, the two women stare at each other, Emma lightly tracing a finger over Regina’s cheek.) Emma: “I’ve been thinking about rule number one.” Regina: “Mm?” Emma: “I think we should tell Henry, about us.” Regina: “Are you sure?” Emma: “Yeah, I think it’s time.” Regina: (Beams:) “I think so too. (They shift positions, Regina now laying her head on Emma’s chest:) I could stay here forever...” Emma: “I don’t think I’d fight you on that one...” (Regina lifts her head and looks at Emma expectantly. They kiss.) Enchanted Forest. Present. Dark Palace. (Staring out at the landscape beneath her, Regina's memories are interrupted by the return of Prince Charming.) David: "Regina, I need your help." Regina: (Sighs wistfully then turns to him:) "What is it, what's happened?" David: "There's a young girl trapped in a tower and-" Regina: (Cutting in:) "Let me guess, you need my help defeating the dragon who guards it?" David: "No, but there’s powerful magic preventing the girl from leaving." (At this moment, Belle enters the room, walking arm in arm with Snow White.) Belle: "Disabling magical barriers seems to be your thing at the moment, Regina." Regina: "Indeed." Belle: "Do er... (While Snow walks over to speak with David:) Do you think you'll need any help?" Regina: "From you?" Belle: "Hey, I might just surprise you. (Holds up a book:) I've been studying books on spells and counter spells pretty much since we arrived." Regina: "Still trying to find a way to resurrect your Rumple are we?" Belle: (Nods:) "Also... (Glancing over at the Charmings:) I'd kinda like to get out of the palace for awhile. (Whispered:) Snow's been talking to me about baby names non-stop since breakfast." Regina: (Grimaces in sympathy:) "Hmm." Across The Way. (Meanwhile, Snow is curious to know where David's been all night.) Snow White: “Are you going to tell me why you were out in the woods all night?” Prince Charming: “I was there because... I was afraid.” Snow White: “Afraid? (David glances at her stomach and she looks down, realising:) Because we lost Emma.” Prince Charming: “Once as a baby and then again, when we were forced to return to the Enchanted Forest without her.” Snow White: “No, neither time was our fault.” Prince Charming: “I know. But, because we lost her, I was never a father.” Snow White: (Earnestly:) “You have been a great father.” Prince Charming: “To her now. I didn’t raise her. And this child? This one? I don’t know. I’ve never done this before and I don’t know if I can.” Snow White: “You don’t have to. We’re going to do this the way we do everything. Together.” Prince Charming: “How did I forget that? Now, come on. We’re going to rescue a friend of mine and then... We have a nursery to build.” (Taking Snow’s arm, David leads Regina and Belle from the room.)

Storybrooke. Recent Past. Regina's Bedroom. The Next Day. (Despite the rest of Storybrooke’s population going about their day, both the Sheriff and Mayor of the town remain blissfully asleep. Eventually, after turning over, Emma slowly opens her eyes. Taking a moment to remind herself of the night’s events, a broad smile forms her lips. Looking over at the still dozing woman next to her, Emma admires the older woman’s unguarded, elegant visage. Musing to herself as to how someone so beautiful can command such fear from those who knew her as the Evil Queen. Distracted as she is by her bed mate, Emma is slow to realise that they are not alone. Her attention caught by movement in her periphery, the Sheriff turns her head and immediately reacts. Pulling the bed covers to her body tightly, Emma’s panic renders her momentarily mute as she finally sees her son standing in the doorway staring at the scene before him.) Emma: (Her mouth dry, uncooperative:) “R-Regina. (Nudges the brunette with her knee:) Regina, wake up!” (Slowly, languidly, the Mayor rouses from her slumber.) Regina: (Annoyed, half asleep:) “Let the peasants look after themselves for a day. Bunch of whiners.” Emma: (Panic-stricken:) “We’ve got bigger problems right now, trust me!” (Frowning, Regina looks at the distraught blonde then, still sleepily, begins to sit up.) Regina: “All right, what’s- (Regina finally follows the blonde’s line of sight and stares, jaw agape, at her son, who has not moved or changed his expression:) Henry!” (Now both fully awake, the women look to each other and then back to their son as a flurry of explanations and desperate attempts to mollify the boy spew forth from each of them. ‘Henry’, for his part does not say a word, merely turning and closing the door behind him. Emma flings the bed covers off herself and tries to find her clothing while Regina collapses back on the bed, too mortified to even move.) Enchanted Forest. Present. (Walking through the forest towards Alice's tower, David attempts to answer Regina's questions as best he can.) Regina: "So you were able to enter the tower, but this girl couldn't leave?" Prince Charming: "That's right. I saw her try to reach out of the window but some kind of magical barrier stopped her." Snow White: "Like the the Wicked Witch used on the palace? (To Regina:) Do you think your sister is behind this? (Gasps:) Do you think the girl in the tower is another daughter of Cora?" Regina: (Firmly:) "No, I don't." Belle: "But how can you know for sure?" Regina: (Sighs, to David:) "The magical barrier, did it have a bright green colour to it?" Prince Charming: "No, it was clear." Regina: (Nods:) "The Witch's magic always has a green tint to it. This wasn't her doing." Belle: (Looking through the pages of her book:) "But if David was able to broach the barrier and Alice wasn't, that must mean it's-" Regina: "Some kind of blood magic, yes." Snow White: "Do you think you'll be able to remove it?" Regina: "I won't know until I see it for myself. How much further is it?" Prince Charming: "It's just through these trees."

Clearing. (Emerging from the trees, the group find themselves standing at the foot of what remains of Alice's tower.) Snow White: "What happened here?" Prince Charming: (Runs forward, calling out:) "Alice! Alice?!" Regina: (Walking calmly towards the tower:) "Relax, your highness, there's a note." (Moving over to the wall, Regina yanks the note that is addressed to David from the wall and hands it to him. He takes it and, putting his arm around Snow, allows her to read it.) Snow White: "Dear David, The strangest thing happened last night. Just as I was making my birthday wish, a passing troll walked by the tower and freed me! I'm sorry I couldn't be there to thank you in person but I felt I needed to follow your advice and start living my life again as soon as possible. Thank you for helping me conquer my fear, I couldn't have done it without you! Hope to see you again someday, love Alice." Belle: "Well, seems we weren't needed after all." Prince Charming: "A passing troll, way out here? There's nothing around for miles." Regina: "Which is exactly why you'd expect to find all sorts of undesirable creatures." Neal: (Arriving on horseback:) "Hey guys!" Regina: "I rest my case." Snow White: (Nudging Regina playfully:) "Neal, what are you doing out here?" Neal: "I asked one of the dwarfs were you guys were and came to find you." Belle: "What's happened?" Neal: "Nothing and that's exactly the problem. Look, we've been here for weeks now and we've got nowhere closer to finding a way to bringing my dad back." Snow White: "But Neal, we've been over this. Your father gave his life to save us." Neal: "Yeah, and I know you think we should just let Emma and Henry go but-" Regina: "What? (To Snow:) You said not to find a way back to them?" Snow White: "Regina, you told us there was no way back, that this was the price you had to pay." Regina: "Well that was before I knew there was a plan to bring back the Dark One." Neal: "I wouldn't say ‘plan’ exactly. Belle thinks there might be a way to do it." Regina: (Turning to Belle:) "You've found a way?" Belle: "Not quite. I mean, I've done some research but I think I'd have a better idea of what I'm looking for at Rumple's castle." Prince Charming: "No, we agreed it's too dangerous. The Wicked Witch has a history with Rumplestiltskin. For all we know she could be there right now waiting for you." Regina: "That's a risk I'm willing to take." Snow White: "Regina!" Regina: (To Neal and Belle:) "If you two think there's a way to bring Rumple back, then go. (To the Charmings:) It's better than standing around doing nothing! Don't worry, I'll stay with you at the castle and protect everyone. It's me the Witch wants anyway, not these two." Neal: "I thought you hated my father? I mean, he turned you into the Evil Queen." Regina: "Despite our history, Rumple is my oldest friend. If anyone is capable of getting us back to Emma and Henry, it's him. Go now and you may reach his castle before dark." (Neal and Regina share a knowing look before he offers his hand to Belle and they head back towards Neal's horse.)

[wiggly-blue-shite]

Chapter 9 The Bell Doesn’t Dismiss You (Tedgens)

Ted: I'm not sleeping with Charlotte

It's been a couple of hours since I left school. I haven't looked at my phone since. I knew my pesky friends would be messaging me because they care or whatever. And that is the message I am greeted with when I finally pick up my phone again.

Phenomenal.

He sent it two hours ago. That's a long to be left without a response with such a heavy text. The things that this message implies makes my head hurt.

So Norah or Zoey but probably Norah, but together that hearing Ted was sleeping with Charlotte upset me. Then she told ted that that made me upset, for some reason. Even though it barely concerns him. Then he cares enough to try and reassure me that he isn't. He saw me in the hallway he knew I wasn't doing good. So he probably asked Norah, again for no clear reason. He probably thinks I'm upset about him. Not that I wasn't. He knows I'm gay.

He's probably assuming that it's all about him, that it's his fault. God straight people are frustrating. I have a whole range of emotions and thoughts that persist if more than just guys.

Henry: ok.

That seems like a cold enough response.

Ted: I want to talk

Henry: and what if I don't

Ted: Please

Why does he care? That will remain a mystery unless I here him out. I don't get along with the unknown

Henry: About what

Ted: A lot of things

Henry: Specific

I don't like being this bitchy. My head still hurts and I don't want to deal with straight peoples bullshit.

Ted doesn't respond for a while. He probably wasn't expecting the dorky little Henry to have any thing negative to say.

Ted: Can I call you?

Henry: Why

Ted: I want to make sure you're ok

Henry: And how exactly would a phone call do that

I don't know what he's trying to pull but I don't trust him. He's given me know reason to trust him. People aren't honest.

Ted: Well texts don't really tell me anything about how you're doing

Don't trust him.

Henry: yes they do

Henry: I'm fine

Ted: That is the most told lie of all humanity.

What does he know? He knows nothing about me. He's not Emma, he's not my mother, he knows nothing about me.

Henry: Right next to "I love you" and "You look great."

Ted: Henry are you ok?

Why does he care? He doesn't know me. He knows nothing. I'm not just the gay theatre guy! I'm a person. God damnit.

I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

Jesus Christ I'm a mess. Good thing my mom isn't home. I can just cry and sing and be a mess and not bother anyone.

I flop myself down on my head and stare up at my ceiling. I don't want to respond. So I guess I'll just listen to music and ignore all text notifications!

Many songs go by and I'm just laying there staring at the ceiling. I don't care enough to do my homework. Just music and the ceiling and this bed. Why do I need anything else?

"Rain,

Falls,

Hard,

Burns,

Dry," I love this song. I want to die listening to this song. It's just pretty.

"A dream

Or a song

That hits you so hard

Filling you up

And suddenly gone"  I can't help but to sing along. What else would I do with my time? Singing home alone.

"Breath,

Feel,

Love,

Give,

Free,

Know," It's therapeutic really. Just singing a pretty song without thinking. It makes life so much nicer. I wish life was this simple. I could just do this for the rest of time.

"In you soul

Like your blood knows the way

From you heart to your brain

Know that you're whole" I know I'm getting louder and louder but I don't care. How could I care?

"And you're shining

Like the brightest star

A transmission

On the midnight radio

And you're spinning

Like a 45

Ballerina

Dancing to your rock and roll" I close my eyes and let myself slip away into the song.

"Here's to Patti

And Tina

And Yoko

Aretha

And Nona

And Nico

And me

And all the strange rock and rollers

You know you're doing all right

So hold on to each other

You gotta hold o-"

Knock knock knock

God damnit.

I reach over to my phone and turn off the music. Why do I need a nice moment, when I can have someone knocking on my front door?

I lift myself off my bed, and out of my bedroom. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I've looked worse and I have definitely looked better

I start down the stairs.

Knock knock knock

Oh wow they're impatient. What has it been 45 seconds?

I hurry down the rest of the stairs and get to the front door. Whoever this is better have damn good reason for interrupting my music. It better be Girl Scout cookies. If it's someone trying to convince me to convert I swear to god I will slam the door in their face.

I open the door and...

What the fuck.

"Hey Henry." Ted smiles awkwardly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I have no need to be polite. He came to my house? Like what the fuck.

"Emma gave me your address." Ted looked very uncomfortable, as he should. You don't just show up at people's doors unannounced.

"Without my permission."

Ted blushes. Fuck if he isn't cute, but he's way out of line.

"Why are you here?"

"We're worried about you." Ted's voice is warm and soft. Under different conditions that voice would make my knees go weak.

"Who is we?"

"Me, Emma, and Norah." Ted is to the point. I can appreciate that despite the fact that I'm pissed he's here.

"Why didn't Emma or Norah come?" Ted is the last person I would send. He knows me the least and he's the easiest to get mad at.

"They both said I should go. So I'm here." Ted takes a deep breath, "do you want to talk?" Oh that deep wonderful voice.

"Not particularly." I'm not going to let it be easy for him.

"Well that sucks, because it was a 20 minute drive, and I want to talk." He takes a beat, "I'm not leaving until I find out what's up."

"Why do you care?" We are acquaintances at most. This is not how you act towards an acquaintance.

"Because you seem like a cool guy. And you deserve to be happy." Ted must know how this kind of behavior can effect someone. You don't just say that.

"How do you know that I'm not happy?" I feel like I'm attacking him with questions. He's the one who can't knocking at my door, not the other way around.

"You didn't seem happy. You still don't seem happy." Who does he think he is?

I feel bad for making him just stand there on the porch. Even if he's being a pain, I should still be polite.

"Do you want to come inside?" It's the least I can offer, I guess.

[mayquita]

Pictures of Reality - Epilogue

Hi everyone! I can’t believe that we have reached the last stage of this journey, but yes, this is the final chapter. I’d like to express my gratitude one last time to all of you for your comments, kudos, likes, reviews and reblogs. Thank you so so much.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. There are two arts accompanying this chapter, the first one includes a moment that happens at the beginning. Regarding the second one, I'm putting it at the end, for reasons. That art is special for me because I made a request to Kate and she made her magic in no time and create that amazing edit. Thank you so much.

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5  / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8 / Art for chapter 10 / Art for chapter 11 / Art for the epilogue

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow. Another special mention to @onceuponaprincessworld , It has been a pleasure to chat with you throughout these months :)

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 8400 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14

What to expect from this chapter? We’re celebrating Emma’s new birthday… and more…

EPILOGUE

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - October 23, 2018

Even though Killian was waiting for her in the living room, Emma took her time to study her reflection in the bathroom mirror. On the day of her twenty-ninth birthday, she looked exactly like the day before.

Well, that's not entirely true, she thought as she pursed her lips as if to throw a kiss. Since today was her special day, she had pushed herself with her physical appearance, having every intention of leaving her boyfriend bewitched the moment she made her entrance.

Her eyes seemed bigger and the green color brighter thanks to the discreet dusting of eyeshadow that she had applied and just the right amount of mascara. Her lips were an invitation to be kissed and her hair fell in soft golden waves over one of her shoulders, just the way he liked.

True, it was her birthday, she should be the one who received special attention. Killian also didn't need any push to, well, satisfy her in every way, but she enjoyed this game of seduction and already knew in advance that her boyfriend was going to spend the whole evening thinking about the best way to get rid of that dress and have his way with her. If she played her cards well, that might happen even earlier than expected.

Indeed, the chosen dress was perfect for her plans, she checked as she turned to catch the different angles through the mirror. Her attire choice had been a flowing draped creamy dress accented with a gemstone belt. There was also another small detail, a zipper running down the back of the dress so she might need help to finish dressing. After one last look at her reflection, her lips drew a wicked smirk and then she went in search of her improvised assistant.

Killian did not disappoint her. The moment she appeared in the living room, walking toward him while her hips swayed slightly, his eyes locked on her, following her every move. When she got to where he was, she turned around, showing her bare back as she cast a suggestive glance over her shoulder. "I may need some help."

"Bloody hell, Swan. We should be leaving in fifteen minutes." He growled, his warm breath caressing the skin of the back of her neck and sending a chill down her spine.

"Where's the rush? It's my day today. I'm allowed to be late." She purred and then bit her lower lip, feeling the first touch —and she hoped not the last one— of his fingers on her bare back.

An hour later and after being thoroughly satisfied, they finally left his (their) apartment, both wearing the same sated smiles and flushed cheeks.

Their destiny was uncertain, at least for her. The only thing Killian had revealed to her was that they were going out of town to get her birthday present but that, evidently, they would be back in time for the party at Granny's in her honor. Still, on the drive to that unknown destination, she insisted, since she didn't feel particularly comfortable when things were not under her control, even for a good reason.

 "Where are we going?”

"Out of town, Swan.”

(Rolling eyes)

“Is my gift something physical?”

“You'll discover it shortly, love.”

(Really?)

“When we arrive? (Yes, I know, I'm behaving like a little girl, but I don't care)” 

“Patience is a virtue, just relax and enjoy the ride.”

( Double rolling eyes)

So she had no choice but to ‘enjoy the ride’ by looking out the window and trying to figure out from the different directions they took where they would go. To be honest, she also glanced at Killian from time to time who was exuding total confidence driving his new adapted vehicle as if he had been doing it all his life instead of just for the past three months.

She didn't stop admiring the ease with which Killian had ended up accepting his prosthesis and its implications, using the substitute of his hand to his advantage instead of making it an inconvenience. Still, the road to that level of acceptance had been long and hard — more than two years. Even now, he experienced some rough days, when the frustration of not being able to do something took over him or when the phantom pains of his missing limb paid him an unexpected visit.

Today wasn't one of those days, fortunately, since she couldn't bear to see Killian suffer, whatever the reason. Today his bright smile, his mischievous gaze, and that expression, a mixture of contentment and nervousness —  probably due to her impending surprise— made him irresistible in her eyes.

She supposed that they were going to Boston when they passed the sign with that name and turned onto the road that would take them to the center of the city. Her curiosity grew at times while she wondered what would await them there. When Killian started parking a few minutes later, Emma peered out the window, but nothing rang a bell.

She then looked at Killian, "I don't see anything interesting out there. Where are we supposed to be?" She asked, sounding perhaps a little more grumbling than she felt.

Killian smirked at her after rolling his eyes. "I'm afraid we're going to have to walk a bit. Also, I need to ask you a favor. Can I trust you?"

"It depends..." She tried to hide her true feelings by masking them with a halo of indifference, despite the fact that the damn bastard had managed to capture her interest, leaving her a nervous wreck and beyond excited.

"I need to blindfold you until we get to the place. That or you offer me enough confidence to walk there with your eyes closed. So, what's your choice, Swan?"

"I don't get the need for so much mystery but anyway - eyes closed. You’re not going to ruin my makeup for the second time this morning." She pouted as she felt her cheeks flush, recalling the reasons for the first time.

Killian also seemed to remember since, despite his smug grin, the tips of his ears turned a deep red in a way that made him so freaking adorable. Gods! She loved that man.

"Okay, let's do this." He patted the steering wheel of the car and, just as he was about to open the door to get out of the car, he turned to her, raising an eyebrow in warning. "Don't think I'm taking my eyes off you for a second."

"You and I know that, surprise or not, you aren't able to take your eyes off me." She countered. Two could play this game.

"And you and I both know it's all your fault. You're irresistible, love." Without giving her time to react, Killian leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before turning and getting out of the car.

He was at her side in an instant, opening the door and offering her his hand to help her out. She pressed her lips together holding back a snort. Always the gentleman... "Now, if the lady would be so kind as to close her eyes..." She gave him one last look, letting out a deep sigh before dropping her eyelids. "Trust me, Swan." He whispered in her ear, sending goosebumps down her skin. Next, she felt him draw her to him slightly and wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Let yourself go."

And that she did. Walking blindly, depending on someone else to guide her steps so as not to stumble or simply not to hit any obstacle on the sidewalk, turned out to be a demonstration of absolute trust in her partner. But, although there was always a bit of innate fear, she felt safe, once again, in his arms.

They didn't walk for long. If her sense of direction didn't betray her, they simply went around the corner and stopped a few steps later. "We're almost there, don't open your eyes yet."

When Killian moved away from her, she felt unprotected somehow and very tempted to do just that - open her eyes. She resisted though. Instead, she decided to use the rest of her senses to figure out what was happening around her.

She heard the tinkling of what sounded like keys, mixed with the ambient noise of the street. Then Killian's warm hand entwined with hers as he pulled her subtly. "We're almost there, just a few more steps, love." He whispered again.

Emma let herself be guided, feeling the temperature rise as they entered wherever Killian had taken her. The outside sound was muffled the moment the door closed behind them, giving way to absolute silence.

Killian pulled her once more, making her walk a few steps, her heels echoing broadly on the smooth surface of the floor. That gave her a clue that they were probably in a large room, getting her curiosity and impatience to increase.

"It's alright, Swan. You can open your eyes now." Killian muttered behind her.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times until her vision adapted to the new lighting in the room. When her gaze finally settled on what she found in front of her, her mouth fell open on a gasp and her eyes widened. "Holy shit!"

Her gaze traveled throughout the room while she remained in awe, unable to believe what she saw. They were in an exhibition hall. And her image -  several of her images - appeared in all the photographs that hung on the walls.

Her gaze then fell on Killian who remained silent at her side, his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her reaction. "You did this, didn't you?" She mumbled in a barely audible voice, her hand waving in an attempt to encompass the entire room.

"Aye?" He wrinkled his nose as he closed one eye, as if suddenly feeling insecure.

"Let's see if I understood correctly... You've organized a photo exhibit in a Boston showroom, using the photographs you took of me?"

"That would be a pretty accurate description." He confirmed tentatively while handing her an explanatory brochure.

The former British war reporter and award-winning photographer, Killian Jones, reappears after three inactive years to present us a new photographic collection, inspired by his muse, The Lady Swan, to whom the exhibition owes its name. True to his style, the collection stands out for the elegance and sophistication of simple lines alternated with powerful lighting games. All the photographs are in black and white, endowing the collection with the sobriety that characterizes the artist.

 The complete collection is for sale. All the benefits obtained will go to different non-governmental organizations that currently collaborate in locations of various active armed conflicts, as well as those working in cities that have suffered war attacks.

"Oh my God." A wave of pride, admiration and pure love seized her, causing her to throw her arms around his boyfriend's neck while kissing him hard. "You're bloody amazing." She mumbled in a poor attempt to imitate his accent as she grabbed the back of his head, sprinkling kisses on his cheeks, lips and any exposed skin of his face.

"I suppose that by your reaction, you approve of it." Killian said between chuckles, while trying to respond to her kissing attack with one of his own.

She pulled back a bit of him looking for her eyes. "Are you kidding me? This is wonderful, and I haven't even seen the photos in detail yet... As long as there are not any inappropriate photos... You know what I mean..." Emma raised an eyebrow suggestively while she bit her lower lip.

"You'll have to verify it for yourself." He winked at her, but then his expression changed to a more serious one. "The exhibition hall doesn't open to the public for another week, but I wanted to show it to you before, both as a birthday present and also to confirm that you give us permission to use your image. Just say the word and we will back out. This is important, Swan. " Killian looked at her intently.

She had no doubt that he would do it, that if she didn't agree, he would take down all the photos on the wall with his own hands. That certainty did nothing but increase her feelings towards him, causing a lump in her throat while she looked at him completely stunned, unable to utter any words.

Killian must have interpreted her silence in the wrong way because before she could reply, he continued with his explanation. "It's reward enough for me to have witnessed your reaction. That’s what I wanted when I set up all this, to show you how wonderful you are as a model and maybe, to believe in myself again. I’m getting it now through your reaction. I don't give a shit about what others may think."

"Others, and with others, I mean the rest of the world, are going to be impressed with your art. You deserve to have the rest of the world recognize your talent in the same way that I do." She nodded to emphasize her speech. Her reaction managed to pull a smile from his lips, to which she responded with one of her own. "And now, I may need a special guide to tour this exhibition." Emma offered her hand, ready to enjoy her gift in its entirety.

What impressed her the most about Killian's art work, besides his undeniable talent, was that walking around the room observing the photos was like walking through their shared memories. Each image, from the simple photo of her strolling on the beach at sunset to the photo in which only her hands appeared braiding her hair, all had a special meaning for her, and for both as a couple.

But there were four special photos that caused her to gasp when her eyes landed on them. The first photo was chosen from that photo shoot in early May, when she was wearing his black shirt. Yeah, the one with the bare shoulder.

It was amazing how Killian had managed to capture her enigmatic gaze and convey sensuality and delicacy at the same time. He made her look like a powerful and impressive woman. A strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach when she saw herself in that startling image, as if she did not identify with the person that appeared.

Killian must have sensed the emotion crossing her mind since he circled her waist with his arms from behind as he murmured in her ear. "It seems that I changed my mind and I've decided to share the marvel I've got for a girlfriend with the rest of the world." "I'm not complaining." She turned her head looking for his lips for a quick kiss. "I look damn good there. I don't know how you did it." "It's all your merit, Swan." "Sure." She rolled her eyes as she continued walking.

The next photo pulled her lips into a smile for both the image itself and the memory behind it. Killian had managed to capture a close-up of one of her eyes and a tear that had begun to slide down her cheek. A new wave of admiration washed over her since he had captured the moment, pausing the tear eternally on its way down. And even though the photo was black and white, the intense brightness of her gaze was evident.

What people wouldn't know was the light source or that she wasn't crying with sadness - well, maybe yes, or, whatever... They had watched Titanic together for the first time a couple of months ago and Killian had made fun of her from the very beginning since she had been trying to hold back tears throughout the film. With the inevitable death of Jack, she hadn't been able to help it anymore and a furtive tear had finally escaped. Killian had decided at that precise moment to grab his camera, of course. And now, they were seeing the result right here.

Approaching the next photo, the one that occupied a privileged place in the room for obvious reasons, she screamed, literally. "Oh my God!"

The dimensions of the photo were somewhat larger than the others, which made it stand out even more. Emma’s image stood in the center of the picture with her back to the camera, submerged up to her waist in a lake. She wore a white dress and over it, a kind of light coat of the same color, adorned with fake feathers. She had her arms raised on either side of her body at shoulder height, the wide sleeves of her cloak creating the effect of wings in the air. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun and her head was slightly tilted upwards, her neck stretched out, her elegant posture emulating a swan. The light at that hour of the day fell over her in such a way that it seemed that a luminous halo surrounded her. The image was hypnotic and powerful and perfect. And it was her boyfriend's artwork.

But the best of all was the story behind that picture. They had found the cloak while walking through an antique market one summer day and Killian had felt inspired, so he had spent the next two days looking for the best location to carry out the photo shoot. Despite her initial apprehension of getting into the water with clothes on, she had enjoyed the photo shoot, following Killian's instructions and contributing with her own ideas since she was enthusiastic about emulating her namesake swan.

Given that the place Killian had found was sufficiently recondite, they had decided to celebrate the end of the session in a rather pleasurable way, gaining not only memories of one of her best jobs as an improvised model, but memories of making love under the trees, a blanket of vegetation beneath them. A warm feeling ran through her body as Emma shared a knowing glance with Killian. Without a doubt, their minds were reliving that unforgettable moment.

She remembered something else too - something not so nice. She had been so excited to see the result of the photos that she had felt totally devastated when Killian had told her that he had inexplicably lost the content of that photo shoot.

"You didn't lose the photos! You're a liar!" She recriminated him poking a finger into his chest.

"Sorry?" Killian gave her an apologetic look, but the grin he wore indicated he didn't feel sorry at all. "I needed you to see the picture for the first time right here, Swan." His lips drew a pout in his attempt to defend himself.

"I want a copy of this photo." She sued.

"As you wish." His head made a slight bow. "You can have all the copies you want, love." He assured.

She looked at the image again, discovering with each glance a new small detail, like the few clouds that adorned the sky. "It's just perfect, Killian. Congratulations."

"Again, the merit is all yours. Well, and maybe the sun also has something to do with it as that day, it decided to grace us with its splendor. But I mean it, you're not only stunning but you're always willing to participate in my crazy ideas. I really appreciate it, Emma." As he spoke he approached her, invading her personal space and placing both his hand and his prosthesis on either side of her waist. She, in turn, encircled his neck with her arms.

"I'm in love with an artist, I'm the privileged one here, believe me."

After being enthralled for a few seconds, both lost in each other's eyes, Killian shook his head slightly, as if trying to get out of the trance and offered his hand to Emma, guiding her to the last photograph of the exhibit.

Again, contemplating the image brought more emotion to her already excited heart. This time her eyes filled with tears and her heart fluttered as she looked at the picture in front of her. A photo of a family hug that she remembered very well, of the day she had finally decided to accept that she was part of a family. She had her back to the camera, but the image did show the faces of her parents, both wrapping her up in a protective hug, wearing the same expression of relief and love.

"That's the only photo of the collection that I took with my mobile, but I felt the need to include it here, since that's your life now - our life." He corrected himself as he reached for her cheek to wipe away the tears.

"See? You ended up messing up my makeup." She made a sound that was half-sob and half-giggle. When she got her emotions to calm down she finally was able to thank Killian properly. "Thank you so much, Killian. This surprise has exceeded expectations and this birthday gift competes with the one I received last year, the one who brought me to you."

"Speaking of which, love, your gift may not be over yet. In fact, I need you to close your eyes again. It will only be a few steps, I promise." He seemed so excited, almost bouncing in place, that she could not do anything but accept, close her eyes and trust him.

Only a few steps later they stopped again while Killian whispered that she could already open her eyes. When she did, she found a new smaller showroom. In contrast to the previous room, the photos that appeared hanging from the walls were an explosion of color. She didn't identify the photos at first, too shocked by all the emotions she had experienced throughout the day. But when her brain finally processed what her eyes were watching, she had to cover her mouth with both hands to avoid screaming again.

Killian had filled the walls with her own photographs, the ones she had taken and edited over the past few months. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized that she was contemplating her first photographic exhibition.

"Killian..." It was the only sound she could utter before a sob bubbled in her throat. Her agitation did not diminish when he handed her her own informational brochure, rather quite the contrary.

The amateur photographer, Emma Swan, presents her first photographic collection, Pictures of Reality, a work that stands out for the ability to immortalize little pieces of the reality of her place of residence, Storybrooke, a town located on the coast of Maine, and turn them into something special, beautiful and full of meaning. The intelligent use of colors in these small everyday scenes gives her work a great visual quality.

She was not just crying now, her eyes were two fucking fountains. Her gaze was so clouded with tears that she wasn't even able to observe her own work. "God, Killian, I hope this is the last surprise, because I swear I'm going to dry up inside."

This time, he did not even bother to wipe her tears, as it would have been an impossible task. He directly handed her a tissue as he pulled her lightly to guide her through the exhibition hall.

Now, she understood his insistence for her to edit her own photographs. He had managed to make everything that hung on the walls appear to be the result of her work, minus the actual printing of the photographs. And she admired him even more for it, for giving her the wings that would allow her to fly to reach her dreams.

"You're bloody brilliant, love. See all those photos? They’re talking, they're telling us stories, you've been able to capture those stories in your images." The smile of pride that adorned his face was enough for her to be about to burst into tears again, but this time she resisted.

There were photos taken from the docks, families walking, an old man sitting on a bench and telling stories to his grandchildren while the kids watched him enraptured. Killian had also included the photo of Olaf, the snowman, the one that she took the day of their practices in the snow. There were also photos of the nature that surrounded Storybrooke, photos of its inhabitants, photos of Henry, of her parents... Even the two of them also appeared, or at least their two hands intertwined.

Something changed in Killian's attitude as they stood right in front of that photo. His usual confidence seemed to have abandoned him, and a slight blush colored his cheeks. It was evident that he was up to something but she was not sure that she could handle even more surprises.

"Don’t you think there's something missing in that picture?" He asked, his chin pointing toward the photo as he reached out to scratch behind his ear.

Emma tilted her head, studying his features from under her lashes for a few seconds until her gaze finally drifted to the image. Her eyes narrowed trying to detect what could be missing. "I don't know, maybe the lighting? Or the saturation? Or perhaps the focus?"

"The photo is perfect both artistically and technically, but there is something missing on one of your fingers." Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched as Killian pulled something out of his pants pocket and showed it to her. A ring.

"No!" She gasped unable to stop the emotion.

"No?"

A wrinkle of worry appeared on Killian's forehead as he remained still. Dammit! She shook her head and hurried to explain herself. "I mean, it's an 'I can't believe this is happening' sort of no..." She held her breath as she thought her heart was going to explode if he did not make any move.

After a few seconds that seemed eternal, the corners of his lips twisted upwards, the flash of something promising dancing in his eyes. "It would be an honor for me if you'd allow me to be a part of our own pictures of reality by becoming your life partner." Her gaze bored into his briefly until she shook her head in an attempt to get out of the trance. "Is that your way of asking me to marry you, Jones?" "Is it working?" He offered her a tentative smile. "Yes!" "I'm afraid I need you to be more specific here. That 'yes' means that it's working or that you do want to marry me?" "Oh my god, Killian." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I want to marry you." Emma affirmed before throwing herself into his arms and capturing his lips with hers. An endless number of sensations danced inside her, causing her to feel like floating, not quite sure if what she was experiencing was real or just the sweetest of dreams. Only when they parted to catch their breaths did she realize that he still held the ring in his hand. "What are you waiting for? Put that ring on my finger, Jones." Emma offered her hand palm down. "So demanding, Swan." He smirked while he finally placed the ring where it belonged. "But you love me." "I do, with all my heart."

A flash crossed her mind at that moment when she remembered the first birthday they had shared, his, and the Nol... her parents' warning that he never celebrated it. "Would you let me do something special for you for your next birthday? I mean, I won't even get close to this, but I can try."

"Even at the risk of sounding a bit corny, my birthday will be special enough just by having you by my side."

"You know what I mean, Killian..."

There was a pause in which Emma was able to deduce that Killian was torn between staying anchored to his past or giving the future a chance. The ring she now wore on her finger was an indication and the bright smile he offered anticipated the answer, to her relief. "Even though you don't need to do anything special..."

"I don't need, I want to." Emma corrected.

"Okay then. I won't be opposed any surprise when it's time to celebrate my next birthday."

"Good." Her mind then began to work frantically, searching for ideas about how she might surprise him, now that Killian seemed willing to move on. Maybe that promised trip to London… But there were still a few months left for that. In the meantime, she still had many hours ahead to continue enjoying her special day.

//

Emma couldn't stop glancing at her new ring on the ride back to Storybrooke. Not even in her best dreams had she imagined that she would end up engaged on her birthday. The possibility of a wedding was something that she wouldn't ever have thought of until now, honestly, since from the day she had chosen to give a new opportunity to her relationship with Killian, she had decided to enjoy the day to day, without thinking too much about the future.

She didn't really need a ring, not an engagement, or even a wedding to consolidate her feelings towards Killian but somehow, the idea of celebrating with all their friends and family the commitment of their eternal love suddenly sounded more and more appealing. She couldn't wait to see the reaction of the others.

"I guess David will jump for joy when he finds out, now that he can finally call you son..." Emma made a deliberate pause. "...in-law."

"Well ..." Killian gave her a sidelong glance before focusing his eyes on the road again. "Your father may be aware of the news already... I... I asked for his blessing the other day..."

"Of course you did." Emma shook her head slightly as she couldn't prevent a smile from appearing on her face at the evidence, once again, of the strength of her new fiance's relationship with her father. A new idea crossed her mind at that moment, something she hadn't thought about until now. When the wedding took place, someone would have to walk her down the aisle and someone would have to be Killian's best man... No doubt David was going to be a very busy man that day.

With that in mind, she leaned against the back of her seat and closed her eyes, letting the last sunshine of the day caress her skin while a sensation of bliss spread through her body.

//

The first thing Mary Margaret did when Emma and Killian came through Granny's door was to look at her left hand as her eyes filled with tears and then she wrapped them both in a tight hug.

There were other curious reactions to the announcement of their engagement, such as Ruby and Graham's.

"Tell me it was you who asked him, Emma." Ruby demanded with a pleading look.

"Eh, not really." Emma replied slowly, not quite sure what all this was about. Her response caused Graham to raise his fist in the air in triumph as Ruby let out a snort of annoyance as she handed him a twenty-dollar bill.

"Wait... Is this a kind of bet or something?" Killian asked as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"It's totally a bet. Here, my boyfriend and Ruby had the brilliant idea of betting who would be the one asking for the other’s hand in marriage." Elsa explained trying (and failing) to keep a serious expression.

Emma and Killian looked at each other while Killian raised an eyebrow and his lips began to draw a smirk. She shook her head in disbelief, for not having been aware at any time of the bet of her two friends, but she also felt glad because, with their gesture, they implied that they were certain that the engagement would happen sooner or later.

"It's not funny." Ruby grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do men always have to do it? Elsa, you're my last hope!” Ruby smirked at her, showing that she had already recovered after finding a new target. Graham and Elsa instead blushed in unison as they both looked at the floor. It seemed obvious that soon new wedding bells would sound in Storybrooke.

To the relief of the new couple in love, the other guests began to approach Emma and Killian to give them the appropriate congratulations. Henry was the last to do it. After sharing a hug full of affection with Emma, his gaze traveled from Emma to Killian while he wore a thoughtful expression.

"If the three best photographers in the town will be the main ones involved in the wedding, who will be in charge of taking the photos?" He asked with genuine interest.

"Well..." Killian raised his eyebrows as he glanced at his former students, all present at the event. "I think we have quite a few candidates here who will do a worthy job."

"We learned from the best, professor!" Will shouted, causing the rest of them to clap, while the tips of her fiancé's ears turned a characteristic pink color. There was no doubt that Killian had left a mark on each of them and for one reason or another, that course would always remain in their memories. In hers, of course, the course had a special place.

Once all congratulations on the engagement finished, it was time for another celebration, her birthday, and the reason why the party had been launched in the first place. If she thought the surprises were over after their visit to the exhibition hall and after getting engaged, she was wrong. Maybe she had already known in advance that a party in her honor had been waiting for her in Storybrooke, but what she did not expect at all was to find so many displays of affection, so many smiles, so many gifts. Everything for her, all because of her.

The arrival at Storybrooke two years ago had meant the end of her lonely birthday celebrations, but this was the first time she had done it with a real family around her and with the promise of the new family that she and Killian would soon start.

She kept the tradition of blowing the lonely candle in a cupcake, but now she didn't need to take a selfie to capture the moment, many people volunteered to do so. It was Elsa, the second most advantaged student of the course, the person chosen to immortalize the scene while Emma closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the feeling of being loved, and with the simple wish that both her happiness and that of her loved ones last forever.

The tears shed didn't end with Killian's surprises either. She had never considered herself a weeping person but now that love in all senses of the word ran wild through her veins, she finally allowed herself to express her feelings and be vulnerable.

For that reason, she was unable to hold back the tears when she opened her parent's gift. An old Polaroid camera, the same style as the one Killian still had and like the one she had lost so many years ago. A new wave of affection both to her parents and to her recent fiancé —it was evident that Killian was also behind this surprise— took hold of her.

She reserved the last tears for later, with Killian and the four walls of their bedroom as the only witnesses. Besides the camera, her father had also given her a new letter. Although she had felt the almost unstoppable impulse to read it right there, she had finally preferred to do it in privacy. It was like this: holding the letter handwritten by her father while Killian's arms wrapped her as the happiest day of her life ended. The best part was that that day was only the first of many that were to come.

My dearest Emma,

Happy birthday, my dear daughter. May all your dreams come true.

I’m aware that we have already established that now that we have finally met, these letters are no longer necessary. But, since this has been my only contact with you all these years, would you allow me to write you one last time? Or maybe we could turn it into our little tradition, something just between you and me. Would you like that?

I'm honestly unable to explain in words how utterly happy I am to be with you on this special day and not just settle for watching you in the distance or writing longing letters hoping against hope that one day they would reach to you.

That day arrived at the moment when, in your huge generosity, you decided to forgive us and include us in your life, being part of your family.

I know that I will live the rest of my life trying to compensate you for all these years that we have spent separated. But today is a special day for you and also for us, it's not time to look back to the past but to look forward.

It's likely that when you read this letter you will have discovered the surprises that Killian has prepared for you. You can not imagine how incredibly proud I feel of you, of your talent, of your ability to achieve everything you set out to do.

Maybe your hand, the one that holds this letter, is wearing now something that wasn't there a few hours ago. Killian came to me a couple of weeks ago, telling me all the plans he had for your birthday and asking for my blessing to marry you.

I was aware that this would happen sooner or later, but that didn't stop my heart from bursting with happiness knowing that my family was finally going to be complete, that the person I've seen growing up, my best friend, that loyal and honorable man, will be part of our family officially.

I send my best wishes to you both, so that you are able to build that family that you deserve so much. We will be by your side whenever you allow us, helping and supporting you in this new stage of your journey in life.

I won't assume that I will be the one that walks you down the aisle, Emma, but in case you are so kind to choose me, it would be my most complete honor to accompany you on that special day and witness one of your milestones. We have lost so many throughout your life that I honestly hope not to miss a single one more.

Your father who loves you and will always be by your side,

David.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - May 3, 2021

It was a bright day in early May. The soft sea breeze ruffled his hair as the warm sun's rays caressed his skin, the salty scent penetrating through his nostrils. Killian was at the docks, leaning over the railing, holding his inseparable camera between his hand and his prosthesis while he captured the magic of the sunset, the sky turning into a canvas of reddish and orange hues.

The ocean had always had a calming effect on him, both the sound and the movement of the waves had managed to alleviate the agony of his heart or make the burden of his past more bearable. Even now, when his heart was not only in peace but overflowing with happiness and his old ghosts were no more than a vestige of the past that only made an appearance from time to time, he still enjoyed the effect of the sea on him. Both he and his wife did so to the point that they had begun to consider buying a boat and making photographic expeditions along the coast of Maine. Or even further, only they would establish the limit.

His wife. He let the word slide through his mind as he could almost taste its meaning by watching the ring in his hand, one of the many proofs that what he was experiencing wasn't a dream, it was real. So real that sometimes the feeling was too overwhelming. This was his life now, waiting for his wife and father in law in one of their favorite spots of the town to later enjoy a peaceful dinner together. It was a simple and perhaps predictable life but he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

Emma had asked him on occasion if he missed his years of adventure traveling to exotic places or working on risky missions so that the world would not forget the most disadvantaged people. The answer was always immediate. No, he didn't miss his previous life, not when he now had something to live for. And he could always fight injustice by offering his services in another way.

Just then, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, while a sense of anticipation hummed under his skin. He just needed to turn his head slightly to find the cause. Emma, his wife, the imminent future mother of his daughter, the love of his life, was walking towards him, causing his heart to flutter. She looked like a goddess, dressed in all white, her golden hair dancing to the rhythm of the sea breeze, her lips drawing a loving smile and her bright green eyes fixed on him.

His fingers began to tingle so he had no choice but to give in to the impulse, grabbing the camera to capture the image of the impressive woman he had for a wife. She was his muse, the person who had brought inspiration back to his life, after all. Knowing she was observed, she didn't hesitate to pose for him while her hand caressed her very swollen belly.

Only when he was satisfied enough with the result of his improvised photo shoot did she approach him, planting a loud kiss on his lips.

"This tiny little baby is not even born yet and she has already got more pictures than her mother and father together. I don't even want to imagine what will happen to us when she finally decides to arrive. We're going to have to buy a new apartment just to get more walls to hang her photos."

A laugh bubbled from his chest as he pushed aside the camera that hung around his neck to make space for his wife in his arms. "Oddly enough, I wasn't taking pictures of her, but of her stunning mum."

"You mean the whale I've become." She grumbled, her lips drawing an adorable pout. "I honestly can't wait for this baby to arrive, I think I'm going to explode at any moment."

Killian chuckled as he bent over until his face was at the same level as Emma's belly, leaving a delicate kiss on the fabric that covered her as he whispered, "Don’t listen to your mother, little love, she is and always will be the most beautiful woman, at least until you get here, of course."

He didn't need to look at his wife's face to know that she was rolling her eyes at that moment, although the smile pulling at her lips would become wider.

"This baby and her mom are pretty hungry. Why don't we head for Granny's right now?"

It was then that Killian realized that Emma had arrived alone. She and David were supposed to come directly from the newspaper office and then the three of them would meet with Mary Margaret at Granny's.

True to her decision, Emma had begun her studies to become a journalist and she was already in the process of getting it. Meanwhile, she had started to work in the local newspaper under her father's orders, thus achieving not only a source of income but to strengthen bonds with David.

"Where's your father?"

Emma rolled her eyes before answering. "He got a call from Mary Margaret for him to pick her up. Guess where she was?"

"In our house?" Killian asked, knowing in advance the answer for Emma's reaction.

"Yeah, apparently she's found the nicest crib sheet set ever and she just had to have everything ready because of the imminent arrival of this little human being." She pointed towards her belly. Although there was a slight bit of complaint in her voice and her brows furrowed slightly, Killian knew that she didn't mind at all that her mother had taken control of the baby's preparations.

They had previously talked about this and both agreed. Emma understood their reasons, accepting that their granddaughter was going to give them the opportunity to experience all that they had missed with her since, in addition, they had decided long ago that they wouldn't become parents again, that they wouldn't look for a substitute for their lost daughter.

Emma and Killian weren't going to complain if that meant lightening their responsibilities and enjoying more time together. They even have already predicted future dates when their little girl had grown enough to stay in the care of her grandparents from time to time.

"By the way, I caught David again today." Emma's voice brought him back to reality. "He adores you, you know, don't you? He was talking on the phone with someone and he wouldn't stop talking like this 'my son this... my son that...'  He seems to always forget the 'in-law ' when he refers to you."

A warm sensation spread to his heart when he heard Emma. The feeling was mutual. If before the ties with David and Mary Margaret were strong, now that they had officially become family they were indestructible. David was not only his father-in-law but his best friend, his co-worker from time to time and the father figure he had needed so much since the loss of his brother. "But you and I know that doesn't bother you, right?"

"Nah, I find it pretty adorable, sort of weird, but adorable nonetheless." Emma offered him a soft smile while her hand caressed her belly again. "And now that I'm talking about him, I'm going to send them a text because my stomach is literally growling. I'm gonna faint if I don't eat any food in the next few minutes." Emma pulled the phone out of her purse and typed on the screen quickly. Next, she offered her hand. "Shall we?"

"We shall." Killian held her hand but instead of walking, he brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles as his eyes locked on hers. "Did I tell you today how much I love you, Swan?"

Emma remained thoughtful for a few seconds before answering. "Only a couple of times, but I wouldn't mind listening to it again."

The adorable smile that appeared on her lips almost made him forget to say the words, but he repressed the desire to kiss her senselessly until a little later. "Just a reminder, I love you Emma Swan-Jones."

"I love you too, Killian Jones. And now kiss your wife already."

He happily obliged.

David Nolan. Storybrooke -  May 3, 2021

When David arrived at his daughter and Killian's apartment, he went directly to the small nursery, the room next to the master suite that had served as a dark room before they decided to move into that apartment and transform Emma's old apartment as a photo studio.

Mary Margaret was already there, but instead of keeping busy or simply watching distractedly the bedroom that would welcome their granddaughter in just a few weeks — in just a few days if they were lucky— he found her in the middle of the room, staring at the screen of her phone while covering her mouth with her free hand.

A tug of concern settled in the pit of his stomach as he hurried to get to his wife. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Mary Margaret flinched as she noticed his presence, while she looked away from the phone at him, her eyes full of tears that threatened to spill. "David..." She gasped. Then she shook her head, as if she had finished processing the information, while her face lit up. "Nothing is wrong, it's the opposite of wrong, actually. Everything is perfect." She breathed out while she handed him her phone.

Hi mom! Did dad already arrive? Your granddaughter and I are starving, so we're heading to Granny's now. Don't be late unless you want to arrive when I've devoured half of Granny's pantry. ES

Oh, and mom? Can you get me the jar of pickles that I keep in the cupboard? I may have a kind of craving right now and Ruby texted me to inform me that they have run out of stock. Can you believe it? ES

Mom and dad... David's heart thudded in his chest as his stomach fluttered, when he read those words for the first time. Emma had accepted them as parents a long time ago, and he was aware that she referred to them as such when talking to other people, but never when talking directly to them. Until now.

And the way she had chosen to do it only increased his love for her. She had used a simple text, something causal that in other circumstances would be impersonal, and had transformed it into something magical and special just by using two words. He didn't know if his poor heart would resist when she finally uttered the words out loud.

"Let's go get our daughter and son." David grabbed his wife's hand, pulling her gently while placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. Before leaving the nursery, he took a last look, while a warm sensation spread to his heart. Their granddaughter wasn't yet born, but her bedroom was already full of life, with warm colors, photos, and drawings adorning the walls. Even the old rag doll that was once destined for Emma now occupied a privileged place in the room.

There was no doubt that she would always be surrounded by memories in the form of pictures and stories and, above all, surrounded by the love of her entire family. He couldn't wait to finally meet her, hold her in his arms and never let her go.

TheLadySwan Family, that wide concept that encompasses endless possibilities, such as the unconventional family, without blood ties between its members, but with an indestructible union despite the misfortunes they go through. Or as the family that is reunited after too many years apart and whose members have to re-establish the ties that were broken at the beginning. Or as the family that is about to add a new member, a tiny person who has not yet been born but who has already managed to create unbreakable ties with the rest of her loved ones. Your whole family is looking forward to your arrival, Hope. 

//

This is the end...

I will never be able to thank the mods of @captainswanbigbang  enough for creating and organizing this amazing event and for allowing me to participate. Thanks to that, I’ve managed to finish my first MC. This story has meant so much to me on so many levels that this experience will always remain in my memory.

[lenfaz]

Sea Squad, ch. 13 (13/14)

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife,  his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge   @thesschesthair   and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to  FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8  9 10 11 12

Chapter 13

I did something stupid back in the day, lad… and while trying to fix it, I might have uncovered something that I’m not sure if you wanted to know.

Now, we don’t have time and I know everyone thinks I’ll make it. But just in case… if you want to know who you are, Henry… talk to Smee, lad. Tell him to show you what we found out.

Anton’s punch to his gut pulled Killian from his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he grunted and slammed his fist against the floor, holding onto the pain. His face had remained almost unscathed, nothing but a small bruise along his left cheekbone and another on his jaw. As much as he wanted to preserve it completely, he knew Gold wouldn’t buy it if his face was unscathed.

The door opened while he lay on the floor, and Killian closed his eyes for a brief second, playing the part of a beaten-up rival. His hand moved to hold onto his ribs, grunting in pain.

“Get him up,” Gold ordered, and his two goons moved to follow orders, pulling Killian up without any consideration to his possible wounds. Once again, Killian mustered all his energy to play his part. Lifting his head, he met Gold’s eyes. His suit jacket was askew, his shirt untucked, and a couple of buttons were missing. His pants had dust marks all over them. Tilting his head to the side, Killian smiled at Gold, wincing at the very last minute to show pain.

“Gold, I didn’t think you’d grace me with your presence. Not when you had such a wonderful host tending to my every need.” He spat on the floor - a mix of saliva and blood. Anton had been gentle, but the man was a still a half-giant with a steel punch. “Tell me, how is the other fight going? It is as fixed as this one?”

“Did you have a hand in this?” Gold scrutinized his face, his eyes drilling a hole on Killian’s forehead.

“A hand in what?” Killian moved his eyes around room, working to appear as if he were assessing the space. “Your wife? You know I did.”

The punch came from his left, one of Gold’s goons hitting his cheekbone and making Killian see stars. He moved his jaw left and right. He deserved that one, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d say it again if the opportunity arise.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, dearie.” Gold leaned on his cane, his mouth twisting in a grimace. “Did you have a hand in this?”

“Gold, I have no bloody clue what you’re talking about.” Killian spat the words, ensuring he was delivering them with the appropriately frustrated tone. “I’ve been locked up in here, a room with no view I might add, my body getting closely acquainted with the fists of your roughneck.”

Silence stretched between them, feeling the room with a thick air of anticipation as Killian waited and waited some more, his face devoid of any emotion except confusion, pain, and tiredness. He was pulling out all the stops on this one. It would make Nemo proud if he could see him. But alas, no cameras in this room.

Finally, Gold tilted his head, his face contorting into a condescending smile. “Fine. You’re free to go, Mr. Jones.” He moved to address his man. “Show him out. We have work to do.”

Killian made a show of buttoning his shirt back up and tugging at the lapels of his jacket before he made to follow the men out of the room. One more step down, only a few more to go.

He needed to give the delivery of his lifetime and he needed to do it at the appropriate time in the appropriate place.

After all, it was all about the setting.

/-/

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Emma asked the question for what felt like the eleventh time, although it truthfully was only the third or fourth. A duffel bag laid open on the bed and a suitcase already stood by the entrance. Her packing was almost done. She hadn’t brought much - part of always being on the road or on the run meant you got used to living with only carrying the essentials - and she was finishing arranging her toiletries in her bag.

She’d been in Belle’s suite when she’d received the call from Gold. It hadn’t taken her by surprise. The moment the power went out, Emma knew her chances with Gold were gone. And if she were honest with herself, Emma knew the moment she didn’t inform Gold that she’d spotted Killian Jones lurking around his casino, she’d made her choice. And now she had to live with it. Belle had gone with her to Emma’s room and was currently pacing back and forth.

“I don’t want you to get into trouble.” She pulled the sides of her cardigan sweater tight over her frame, averting her eyes.

“I don’t care about being in trouble, Belle.”

“I’m sorry, Emma” Belle was on the verge of tears. “Robert, he sometimes-”

Emma closed the distance between them and laid a comforting hand on Belle’s arm. “Hey, hey. You’re not responsible for what Gold does. Or Liam, or any of them for that matter.” She smiled, an idea coming to her. “Belle why don't’ you come with me? What are you going to do here anyway?” She didn’t want to leave Belle alone - or at the mercy of Gold if he figured out who was behind the robbery. It wasn’t just that she’d promised Killian, it was that Belle didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.

Belle shook her head, pursing her lips. “I can’t… not yet. I just I need time to think.”

Emma kept her voice gentle. “Think about what?”

“Whether or not I can trust him again.”

Emma didn’t ask which him Belle meant, because by the frazzled look in her eyes, she wasn’t sure even Belle herself knew. She only knew she couldn’t leave her here in this state.

“How about a cup of tea before I go?” Before Belle had time to protest, Emma shrugged her shoulder. “Look if Gold wants to time my exit and remove me forcefully, so be it. I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

Belle pondered her words for a moment before she gave Emma a small smile. “Let me get the Keurig settled.” She stepped out of the bedroom and moved into the living room. Emma quickly shut her duffel bag and grabbed it. She was about to leave the room when her phone rang. The screen read Unknown Number. Her heart beating frantically on her chest, Emma took the call.

“Hello?”

The voice that spoke sounded tiny, like it was far, far away. “Turn to channel 88. Make sure Belle is watching.”

Reaching for the remote, and fearing the worst, Emma turned on the TV. The image on the screen and the little piece of sound she was able to catch had Emma quickly raising her voice as she called for Belle.

“Belle, come here! You might want to ditch the tea and bring some alcohol instead.”

/-/

We’re all set.

Those words were exactly what Killian had been waiting for as he slowly walked down the hallway, dragging his feet a little in an effort to show he’d been beaten to a pulp by Anton.

He lifted his head and spoke into the emptiness ahead of him. “What happened tonight? Did you get robbed or something?”

Gold’s reply from the other side of the hall came almost immediately. “Stop.”

Stopping in his tracks, Killian bent his head as he turned around, hiding his smirk. When he finally looked up, Gold was in his face.

“I am going to give you one more time to come forward, dearie. Where is my money?”

“Are you willing to make a deal for it, Gold?” Killian waited for two seconds, letting the words sink in and peak Gold’s interest. “What if I tell you that you can get your money back if you give up Belle?”

Gold raised his eyebrows and twisted his lips in a grimace. “Belle, huh?”

Killian shrugged. “What can I say? My brother still loves her. They were happy together.” Meeting his eyes directly, Killian dropped the affable mask. “You and I both know the only reason you went after her was because you knew it’d bring my brother pain. And therefore, it would bring me pain.”

Gold didn’t even flinch, his smile turning into something evil and maniac. “Oh yes, I intended to make you suffer. I still do.”

“Careful there. You need me if you want to get your money back. So why don’t we try that again?”

Gold hesitated and Killian knew he was weighing in on his options. Was his hatred for Killian and his family so deep that he’d risk never seeing his hundreds of millions again? Killian wasn’t going to give the man too much time to make a decision. “Do we have a deal, Gold?”

“Fine.” Gold huffed and Killian allowed himself a tiny smile. It would be out of character if he didn’t at least show some satisfaction about one-upping his nemesis.

“I know some people. I made a few new contacts while teaching celebrities to play poker in L.A. Give me a few days, I’ll find out who has your money.”

Gold wasn’t impressed, not in the least. He clenched his jaw and Killian had to bite his tongue to keep the smile off from his face. “I will hunt you down, dearie. This is not over. I can still make you suffer.”

Killian adjusted the lapels of his suit. “That threat got old a few years ago, and you’ve burnt more than your fair share of bridges since then. Especially with the people you’d hired to hunt me down last time. Such a tricky thing, not paying your debts.” Killian paused and shot him a small grin. “And let’s face it, anyone else you can think of hiring to hurt me and my brother like us more than they like you. So unless you’re willing to get your own hands dirty, which we know you aren’t, you’re left with no other choice."

Gold’s eye twitched and for a moment there, Killian thought he was going to punch him. But in the end, he simply gave Killian a dark look before turning to one of his security guards. “Call the police. Alert them of Liam Jones possibly breaking his parole, as I’m sure he’s nearby, and turn Mr. Jones here into their custody. He was acting suspiciously on casino grounds.”

Well, that was nothing that a little charm and some bail money couldn’t fix. And Killian had both in spades now. He let the guard walk him to the casino lobby. As he was being escorted, the ding of the elevator made him turn his head just in time to see Emma and Belle quickly making their way out of the hotel, carrying a suitcase and travel bag between them. They were close to the entrance when Ursula approached them.

As he waited for the police to show up, Killian couldn’t hide his smile. Belle and Emma clearly had gotten the message.

All was well.

Almost.

[jarienn972]

Curse of Undoings - Part 7

I got through writing this next chapter a little sooner than originally planned but ended up making a bit of a change. I decided to save a portion that was originally supposed to go here for the next installment because I felt it took away from Emma's last line of this chapter. So, here’s a quick recap - we last left off with Killian unconscious in a dark tunnel and Henry nearly being caught stealing the snow globe. How long do you think both will go unnoticed? (if you said not long, you might be right...)  

No major trigger warnings apply to this chapter although there are a few mentions of Killian’s lingering injuries.  Fear not, my whump loving friends, there’s plenty more pain to come...  @killian-whump , @hookaroo and @castielamigos - you will all enjoy the next few chapters!

Catch up on AO3 or FF,net or here: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

Anxiety was beginning to work it's way into Henry's psyche as he made his way to the mine entrance. From here, the tunnel's opening was only about another fifty yards to the left. From this side, it didn't look like much, merely a dark recess in a wall of slate and sandstone where the trickle of an underground stream broke the surface before continuing on its meandering path to empty into the lake. Henry had often wondered if any of the dwarfs who'd spent so much time down in these damp, shadowy mines had ever been curious enough to follow that little stream to its origin, but maybe they'd lacked his drive to explore. Right now, it was probably for the best that the tunnel remained his secret space.

Just beyond the point where that trickle of water vanished into the rock lay a crevice that was so obscured, a person could easily walk right past it if they weren't sure where to look. It was a bit of a tight squeeze to get inside, but once through to the other side, it widened into a tunnel that, by all appearances, looked chiseled out by an unknown hand. Henry obviously knew that wasn't the case as the passageway must have been created along with the rest of the town through Regina's dark curse. But whatever the history, it was irrelevant today as all Henry cared about was getting back to Killian.

Using the flashlight setting on his phone to guide his way through the pitch black, he hurried through the tunnel as quickly as he could manage safely. He'd been gone less than twenty minutes, but if Killian's bleeding hadn't slowed, he feared he might be returning to find a corpse.

No. No, he scolded himself for even harboring such thoughts. Killian had to be alive or the Black Fairy would have succeeded in wiping out their stories by now. Captain Hook was a survivor and now more than ever, Henry needed that statement to be true. As he came around the last bend, he could see the faint glow of the flashlight he'd left for Killian, thankful that the batteries hadn't given out. Getting closer, it didn't appear that Killian had moved at all, which likely meant that he hadn't regained consciousness. Ultimately though, both of them ended up being startled as Killian stirred at the crunch of gravel beneath Henry's feet.

"It's just me, Killian," Henry assured the wary pirate as he moved closer, shining the light onto his face so Killian could recognize him. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back here, but I needed to go pick up a few things."

"What things...? Why did you leave?" Killian demanded. "I was worried you'd been captured."

"You were unconscious when I left and really, I didn't mean to be gone so long but I was forced to take a detour." He shrugged the backpack off of his shoulders as he switched off the cell phone light, needing to conserve battery power. "I went to get my backpack so we'd have some water and some snacks too. I know you were really thirsty earlier, especially after having that gag in your mouth. Are you hungry at all?"

Henry unzipped his pack and shoved his free hand inside, digging around until he located the still sealed bottle of spring water which he yanked out along with a fistful of snacks, offering all of his treasures to his stepfather. Killian grimaced while struggling to push himself back into a more upright position, the flayed skin and muscle of his back threatening to tear open anew with even the slightest movement. A trembling arm nearly gave out as he shifted his weight to his right side, finally wrangling his unwilling limbs enough to sit before reaching for the bottle. Henry twisted off the cap and then passed it to Killian who gulped down nearly a third of the precious liquid before pausing for a breath.

"Thank you, lad. That was much needed, but no, I'm not really hungry. Not entirely certain I could keep anything down at this moment either." Killian handed the bottle back to Henry who replaced the cap, saving the rest for later. "You took a huge risk by going after all of this."

"It's fine. I knew what I was doing and I was careful. We're safe here, for now at least but we really need to get you some help and we need to figure out how to free my family from this thing…" Henry withdrew another object from his backpack and held it up proudly – the snow globe that he'd procured from Fiona's bookshelf, garnering both pride and a glint of horror from Killian as he recognized the prize Henry was clutching.

"Henry – where do you get that?"

"From Fiona's office. When you said Fiona showed you a snow globe and said she'd trapped our family inside, I remembered that she'd been grinning at something on her bookshelf. I found this snow globe on that shelf so this has to be the one. Is this the one she showed you?"

Weakened by constant pain and the lingering effects of too much blood lost, Killian's senses weren't acute enough to be entirely certain, but even in the minimal light provided by the flashlight, it looked like the same object that Fiona had flaunted before him earlier. "I believe it is the same one, but I'm afraid I'm not fully certain." Killian exhaled a deep sigh, knowing that Fiona would absolutely have all of her henchmen mobilized the moment she discovered the globe was missing.

Henry could see the flicker of trepidation in Killian's eyes which had him immediately second-guessing his hasty actions. "What's wrong? Was I wrong to take the snow globe?"

"No, Henry, you weren't wrong to take it. We do need to have that trinket in our possession if we're to devise a way to free Regina, your grandparents and all of the others trapped in limbo inside that thing, but it also puts us in greater danger."

"I guess it's a risk worth taking. We have to save them. Look…" Henry reached inside his backpack one more time to retrieve the storybook, flipping it open to one of the pages detailing a scene from his grandparents' story – the image of their famously interrupted wedding. He picked up the flashlight and directed the beam onto the page so Killian could see for himself the deterioration that Henry had been witnessing all day. Portions of the intricate text were missing and nearly half of the accompanying image had faded away from the yellowing paper. "Nearly all of the pictures are like this – half of it already vanished since this morning. We're running out of time!"

"I know…" Killian replied, hoping that Henry hadn't noticed his face contorting with yet another wave of agonizing pain shook him. "But who can we trust to help us break the curse?"

"I have an idea of one person who could help us, but you're not gonna like it…"

The crocodile.

Henry wanted to trust the bloody crocodile?

Had the lad gone daft or had he simply lost so much blood that now he was now hallucinating this whole conversation?

"Perhaps we should rethink this, lad…" Killian suggested as he grasped the teen's extended hand and accepted Henry's assistance with getting back on his feet. Every inch of his back seared with the exertion but he was moderately thankful that at least his punctured left shoulder wasn't throbbing as much as before and it seemed that the bleeding had subsided – at least the external bleeding. He wasn't foolish enough to believe a wound that deep had ceased entirely.

"I don't know of anyone else we can turn to," Henry reminded him as he let go of Killian's hand once the pirate was standing on his own accord. He gathered his backpack and slung it onto his shoulders, getting it up and out of the way so he could aid Killian. "I overheard Fiona mention his name while I was spying on her office earlier. I'm pretty sure that it was actually him that she was talking to even though I could only hear her side of the conversation. It definitely sounded like the person she was talking to wasn't affected by the curse either and as far as I had known, only Fiona, Gideon and myself had been spared the memory-altering curse. Since we know that Rumplestiltskin was able to retain his memories under Regina's dark curse by using Mom's name as a trigger, it seems pretty likely that he'd come through his mother's curse unscathed as well. There have to be some perks for being the Dark One after all…"

"You forget that your mother managed to alter my memories with the dark curse that brought us back from Camelot so your theory isn't without flaw. What makes you think that he'd even raise a finger to help us? I'm not particularly one of his favorite persons…"

"Because this is his story too," Henry stated confidently. "If Fiona intends to rewrite everything, Rumplestiltskin's story disappears as well. You've known him for centuries so you definitely know that self-preservation is a huge motivator."

"You do have a point there," Killian agreed as he fought to control his quivering legs, striving to maintain his tenuous balance. It was still a long walk into town and they would have to take great care not to be seen. They'd be safe until they departed the tunnel and ventured into the mine. It wasn't highly likely that they'd encounter someone in the mine, but they had to be cautious. From then on, they'd be exposed so Henry would need to scout ahead at each turn to ensure safe passage to the pawn shop. By now, Emma had undoubtedly discovered that Killian was missing and it wouldn't take long for her to reach the conclusion that Henry had been the one who helped her prisoner escape. She'd have the entire town hunting them both so there would be few havens in which to take refuge. Of course, who would ever suspect that they'd have the audacity to turn to Captain Hook's oldest nemesis for assistance?

They'd find out soon enough.

"How the hell does a prisoner chained to a metal table in a locked cell manage to escape?!" Emma demanded, glaring fervently at her now wide awake prison guard who cowered before her, head hung low as he shivered in the cold basement.

He had no answer for the Sheriff. He only remembered getting sleepy, then waking to find himself wearing only his leopard print boxer shorts and seeing two of the prison cell doors standing wide open. He'd called the Sheriff immediately, reluctantly confessing his transgression that had apparently given a dangerous prisoner a window to escape and he fully expected to have her wrath rained down upon him.

"And how the hell did you manage to sleep through it all?" Emma continued to berate the hapless guard.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff," the guard replied, unable to make eye contact with her as he fully expected to be fired here on the spot. "I really don't know what happened…"

Gideon poked his head into the corridor at that moment, interrupting his colleague's apology as the deputy exited the cell that had previously held a wounded, shackled Killian Jones - who had somehow managed to escape without being seen or heard. "Sorry to interrupt, Sheriff, but I've gone through everything in the cell and I'm afraid that there's nothing here to indicate how the prisoner escaped."

"Damn, he must have had help then. Who here in town might still be loyal to him?" Emma inquired as she momentarily redirected her ire away from the half-naked guard.

"As far as I'm aware, none of his known accomplices have been seen in the area," Gideon responded. "I thoroughly searched his ship after he was captured, but found no indication anyone but Hook had been onboard."

"Well then, get a search party together and start searching! Round up everyone who might have ever been a member of his crew and find that son of a bitch!"

"Yes, Sheriff. I'll call in as many of the reserves as I can locate. What about him?" Gideon gestured towards the unclothed guard.

Emma spun around to unleash her fury upon the guard once again. "Go home. Get dressed and get out there with the search party!" she ordered. "We'll discuss your punishment as soon as Hook is found and dragged back here. Anyone caught helping the prisoner is to be arrested immediately!"

The guard took a fleeting glance down at his bare legs and torso, wanting to ask if he could have something to cover himself with, but he didn't dare ask. Still avoiding eye contact with her, he squeaked out a weak "Yes, Sheriff," as she dismissed him and sent him scurrying up the stairs in his flashy boxers. Public humiliation would be but the first part of his penalty for sleeping on the job.

"We'll find him," Gideon stated with an almost overconfident assurance. "There's no way he could have gotten too far in his condition."

"I suppose that depends on how much assistance he had," Emma countered, letting out a frustrated sigh. "It's bad enough that my kid disobeyed me and didn't go home like he was supposed to and now, on top of that, I have to contend with an escaped murderer because the guard I trusted couldn't keep himself awake!"

"How do you know that Henry didn't go home?" Gideon wondered.

"Your grandmother, Her Honor, the Mayor, ran into him over by the church a little while ago. He told her that he was going to the library…" Emma froze mid-sentence as a horrifying thought popped into her already stressed brain, causing her jaw to go slack. "You don't think…?"

Gideon picked up on what she was thinking and completed her sentence: "That Henry might have been involved somehow?"

"He's been acting weird all day," Emma explained as she massaged her temple absentmindedly, thinking about their disagreement earlier that morning. "In his damaged mind, he doesn't believe that his grandparents are really dead and even tried to convince me that Hook wasn't a killer. How would he have gotten in here though? He's just a kid…"

"So, should we be looking for Henry too?" Gideon asked, already planning to hunt down the boy, but waiting for Emma to give the word.

"Yes," Emma relented. "I've got a bad feeling that wherever we find Henry, we'll find that scoundrel too. No harm is to come to my son though. If you locate him, bring him in, but I will deal with him myself. I am his mother after all."

"What about Hook?"

"Whatever it takes," Emma told him, setting her jaw firmly while her eyes grew darker with building rage as she stared at the open door to her torture chamber. "But the final blow is going to be mine."

[shippingtheswann]

FOOLS RUSH IN:

Summary: Emma Swan has been married since she was five years old. Under the old oak tree, she wed Killian Jones, her neighbor. Then, he moved away, but made one final promise, that one day he would marry her for real. See what happens when he returns to make good on his promise.

Fools Rush in Chapter Three

Start from the beginning here

A/N: Thanks to @captainswanbigbang​ for once again organizing an amazing event. I've been missing Captain Swan for the past year, and having this has helped so much! Thanks to Lana @high-seas-swan​ (go read her story NOW!) and Kaitlyn @spartanguard​ for their beta help. Go check out Lana's story when you get a moment as well – it's amazing! Thanks to Rachel @ladyciaramiggles​ for the art she has provided. Also, thanks to Kris @sambethe​ for the cover art for the story and for beta help.  All of you have made this story what it is!

I can't believe the amazing response I have gotten for the first two chapters! I really loved writing this chapter and I can't wait for you all to see things start to pick up! Reviews make me smile!

Emma was out of her element. She spent the entire day in a tizzy.

She didn't think when she agreed to this dinner that she would be like this. It was just a dinner after all. Just a dinner with a man whom she had dreamt about for years. Just a dinner with someone she held close, even if they had been far apart for decades.

Shit, she thought to herself. Maybe she wasn't ready for this. She initially thought she was. She was ready to see him again after all these years. She was ready to see if their friendship could still be there. She was ready to see if what she had for Killian Jones was more than just some fantasy that helped her pass the time. But now, she wasn't quite sure.

As she got ready that morning, wearing her normal Friday outfit of jeans, a white tee, and her red leather jacket, she could feel the nerves bubble up inside. It was starting to sink in that in less than 12 hours, she would be talking to Killian again. She began to wonder what his voice sounded like. She was pretty sure that Killian's once small but accented voice had disappeared, but what it sounded like now was a mystery. Was his voice deep and full of lust that most men had, or was it still light and airy? Did he still have the same accent, or did it change when he moved?

Henry yelling for her from down the hall pulled her from her thoughts for a while. When she kept busy, images and ideas of Killian disappeared. But when she had a moment to let her thoughts drift, they always drifted back to him.

She found herself in the teacher's lounge, pouring her third cup of coffee for the morning, thinking about the issues with the date. She had finally settled on calling it that on the car ride over.

Were they just going to ruin everything? Emma had spent years dreaming of what might happen if Killian came back into her life. The dreams ranged from them staying friends, to him saying he hated her and never wanted to see her again, to him declaring his undying love for her. What if the reality didn't match up to any of the dreams? What if she was let down by the interaction? What if she made up everything she remembered about him? They were only six, for God sakes, when they parted, and so much could have changed.

The night before, she had a dream about it. Because of that, that she knew it wouldn't be an easy day. She had almost canceled that morning because of that dream. She dreamt she walked into Granny's only to find their old booth empty. The booth that they once shared as children as their moms sat and graded papers was empty, just like her heart had been. She looked down at her watch and saw that she was early, so a bit of hope filled her chest. She sat down and watched the door like a hawk. Her breathing quickened each time the bell above the door jingled, her heart dropped each time it quieted and he hadn't walked through the door. She looked back down at her watch, only a minute had passed, yet it felt like hours. The dream continued like that for eternity. Finally, when she looked down at her watch and it showed 7, she gave up and left. As her dream left the diner, Emma jerked awake in a cold sweat.

Nightmares were supposed to be about what you feared most, what truly scared your conscious, and for Emma, that meant Killian not showing up, throwing away their flicker of a friendship, breaking her heart in two.

Her thoughts were non-stop. She couldn't help it. The fear of the unknown was pretty debilitating. So much so that she overfilled her coffee mug, coffee spilling onto her hand and across the counter. She didn't even hear David come in and come to her rescue.

"Jesus, Emma, be careful!" he exclaimed.

"Oh shit, sorry," she began, not even looking to see the mess she knew she had made.

Instead, she looked right at David, a small smile crossing her face.

In the few short years she had known David Nolan, he had made a drastic impact on her life. David had become the brother Emma never had, but so desperately wanted. He filled the hole Killian left, in his own special way. Yes, Mary Margaret was a great friend, but David was really her best friend; she would never say that to Mary Margaret, though.

While Mary Margaret was a sucker for romance, hope, and beauty, David was stuck in reality. He kept his wife grounded when she tended to float away in fantasy. But his wife also allowed him to dream a bit. Emma's personality matched David's more. She needed someone to tell her the honest truth sometimes. She needed someone who knew when to give her hope and when blunt honesty was needed, and David was just that guy.

"I haven't seen you this tense in a while. The last time was when you were putting in to foster Henry. Did something happen?" He questioned, concern lacing his voice.

"Oh no, Henry is great. I mean, of course the adoption agency didn't want to grant me the petition, but we are trying again. But no, I'm just out of it today," she lied.

She hadn't told the couple about her upcoming date. It wasn't that she didn't trust them. She knew neither one of them would make fun of her for saying yes to meeting him again. Hell, both of them had been encouraging her for years to reach out and truly talk to him. Sure, Mary Margaret's encouragement was littered with questions about Emma's love life, but she was still supportive and just wanted to see Emma happy.

She hadn't told them simply because she was so unsure about what it all meant. She was already scared that she was getting her hopes up by thinking about all that could happen. She didn't want to add in their hope as well. She knew Mary Margaret would be overwhelming with positivity and excitement. She didn't want to have to let her down if things didn't go well.

Emma laughed at herself, finding it funny that in that moment she was more concerned about her friend's feelings about the date than her own. But the laugh wasn't as quiet as she thought it was.

"What?" David questioned.

"I'll tell you later," she replied, hoping that it would end the conversation. She didn't want to tell them anything until there was something to tell, and Emma knew if she told David, Mary Margaret would know within minutes. Plus, she needed to get out of there and wash off before going to class.

"OK, but whatever is going on, Emma, stop worrying. I know that's what you are doing; I've known you for long enough now. Everything will work out in the end," he said, reaching for Emma's slightly burnt hand and giving it a squeeze.

Emma smiled at him as he let go and walked out of the lounge, leaving Emma to quickly clean up her mess and get ready for the first class of the day.

Her Fridays were always pretty chill. Most of her students would agree that Emma was the best teacher in the science department. She never took life too seriously, made the kids laugh, and took the time to really get to know them. She wasn't super strict, but the kids knew not to cross her. They always had the same schedule in her class. Fridays, after they took a test, was a review day, where they went over the test they had just taken. However, it wasn't like a normal review, Emma turned it into a game, so that the kids wouldn't feel so bad about getting some things wrong.

The problem was that she allowed the kids a bit too much freedom with the review game. They ran everything, while she sat back and refereed.

The game was distracting a bit, but little things would bring her back to thinking about the night to come. For example, one of her students, a boy that was friends with Henry named Avery, started talking about his mom and dad having their "date night" when another asked if he could get on and play Call of Duty later. Of course, the word date set her off. Her palms became sweaty, the words her students were saying began to be drowned out by a weird buzzing sound, and her eyesight was too focused. She wasn't paying attention to what anyone was doing. She was so zoned out that she didn't even see one of her students, Gideon, trip another, on his way to the board.

Even after that incident, she still couldn't help but focus on what may happen. During her second period class, she found herself literally in a daydream. She didn't want to let it happen, especially after the previous dream, but her mind was a creature of its own.

All around her, the classroom disappeared, and the inside of Granny's appeared. It was so real, that she thought she could hear the grill in the back. She saw him sitting with his back towards her. She knew it was him because of his hair. That hair that she had memorized from pictures. Sure, most of the pictures she saw of him were from the front, but she was pretty sure she had the correct picture of the back in her mind. She swore she could even smell the shampoo he used - or at least that she thought he would use, the scent was just right for him. As she began to see herself walk forward towards him, she felt a rush of emotions. It was a complete out of body experience. Her heart began to beat faster and she couldn't tell if she was walking slower or faster. She began to turn towards Killian, but before anything could happen, a yell pulled her from her dream.

"Miss Swan, tell him I'm right!" she heard one of her students say.

She quickly regained composure and went back to work.

The rest of the day went about the same, except for her planning period right before lunch. She knew it would be the hardest part of the day. She would be completely alone with her thoughts. She didn't have any real work to do for school. Her year had been planned out, her tests had been graded, and she was caught up on all the assignments that had been submitted. Normally, she loved her planning periods. She would get on Netflix, binge watch The Office or Bob's Burgers, and just relax while eating her lunch, but today, not even Michael Scott's antics could distract her.

Without wanting it to happen, she was back in that daydream from before. Her mind picked right back up where it left off.

She was walking slowly towards the back booth. Everything around her seemed so real. She could hear Granny yelling at a customer. It made her smile. Granny's yelling always came from a place of love. She didn't yell at you if she didn't love you. She saw Ashley behind the counter, wiping it down after her daughter had made a mess of the area with her chocolate cake. Her focus though came back to that booth. As if she didn't have to move at all, the floor pulled her towards him. She reached out to touch him, but decided against it. She didn't want to startle him, and she also didn't think she could handle what he felt like. Would his shoulder be hard? He looked to be in shape, so it would probably feel so good under her palm.

Instead, her daydream decided to just sit down. As she turned, she took in the sight in front of her.

And just like that, what seemed like a lovely version of her nightmare, she was thrust back into her fears.

The man who sat in front of her transformed. All of a sudden he wasn't in shape. He wasn't what his profile picture shown. He was the 6 year old who had left her all those years ago. He had tears in his eyes. His hair unruly and unkept. He was skinnier than he was when he left, which is saying something, since he was a scrawny kid to begin with.

"Killian?" she said.

"Emma? Why didn't you stay my friend?" he questioned, the tears began to run down his face.

"Ummm…" she was so confused about what was going on.

"Why didn't you care?" the ghost asked her.

Emma was stunned. Why was he asking her these things? It didn't stop. After she didn't answer him, he kept asking the same questions, or similar ones. Why didn't she call, why didn't she keep writing, why didn't she follow him, why didn't she reach out more, why didn't she want more, why didn't she do something?

Her heart began to beat faster, she couldn't find the words to tell him the truth. She felt the guilt bubbling up inside. Was she the real reason they were where they were?

The bell for lunch rang, pulling Emma back out of her dream. She didn't realize she had fallen asleep. At least it wasn't the first time she had fallen asleep at her desk after a restless night stemming from bad dreams.

As she headed down to the teacher's lounge, she had to think about the dream. First, what if he didn't look like his pictures showed? What if those were old pictures and he was really different? She knew he wasn't catfishing her; he spoke to her in a way only Killian ever did. But, still, what if he looked completely different? She didn't think she would hate him, she didn't think she would be angry, but she may be disappointed.

But really, she was worried that he was going to question why she stopped their friendship. She was petrified that he was going to blame her for everything that happened. All the questions that she was being asked in the dream, she knew she should be asking him. She did try—she tried so hard to keep him in her life. It killed her how much the discommunication hurt. She tried to write, she tried to call, and she begged her parents time and time again to send her with him. She fought as hard as she could for them.

Did he fight for her? Something in her wanted to spend the dinner tonight grilling him about that. She wanted to demand answers for all those questions that she cried over. But, at the same time, she didn't want to blame him. She knows that life had been hard for him, and that she couldn't blame him for a child's actions. She had gotten over the anger and hurt ages ago.

As she entered the teacher's lounge she was thankful that it was lunch. Lunches on Fridays at the school were always loud and a good distraction. The school had won a prize the year before, so every Friday a nice lunch was purchased for the teachers as a thank you. So, the lounge was packed with almost every teacher lined up to get a plate of tamales.

Her coworkers were pretty talkative, so her mind stayed distracted which was welcomed. She only hoped the rest of the day stayed that way.

She was also thankful that Mary Margaret wasn't at lunch today. She had lunch duty, which meant instead of a catered meal, she would be walking around the cafeteria making sure the students didn't get into too much trouble. Of course, that meant that David had joined her as well. So, she instead sat with Elsa, the Home Ec teacher, and Belle, the librarian.

Emma used to say she didn't have many friends. It used to be just Killian, but when he moved, she was forced to come out of her shell a bit more. Ruby was the first, followed by Lily a few years later. Eventually, she really developed a knack for making friends. People tended to migrate towards her since she knew how to be honest with people without making them feel like shit. They knew Emma would tell them how it is, but in a supportive and loving way.

She was also lucky in that her other friends she developed over the years never abandoned her the way Killian did. Ok, maybe she was still angry at him for that. She had other friends move away, and they never treated her the way Killian did. She still was in pretty good contact with Lily, a friend she made in the third grade who then moved when they were in the eighth grade. Lily understood her in a way no one else did. Both of them were essentially orphans. Yet, Lily wasn't as luck as Emma had been. Emma was adopted, and Lily had bounced around foster homes their entire friendship.

Elsa, who Emma had met last year on the other's first day, understood Emma as well. Emma was pretty sure if she told Elsa about Killian, Elsa would understand Emma's emotions.

Elsa and her younger sister Anna, who worked at the local day care, had been orphaned when their parents died in a car crash when they were younger. And while they were almost immediately adopted by their aunt, they still understood the fear that every orphaned child has: that eventually, everyone would leave them.

That was the root of the reason Killian's absence hurt her so much. She had been actively abandoned by her birth parents. Yes, she had the best adoptive parents a girl could ask for. Yes, she was so thankful for them and the love they gave her. But, in the back of her mind, she always wondered if she was worth it, since she clearly wasn't worth it to her birth parents.

So of course, Emma found herself thinking the same thing sometimes when she thought about Killian. She knew it was far from the truth—that he would never purposefully abandon her. He would never purposefully walk away from their friendship without a good reason. Yet, when she felt depressed, she couldn't help but think that way.

For a brief moment, she did almost ask Elsa to talk. But, the blonde looked so excited to be talking about the upcoming school musical that she was helping to costume that Emma didn't want to interrupt.

She listened intently to the conversation the duo was having. She listened to how Elsa was worried that the kids would mess up the costumes, especially since she had some troublemaking boys in her sixth period home ec class. She listened to how she almost got into a fight with Mr. Gold, the principal, over budget.

Belle blushed a bit when his name was mentioned. Emma had a feeling that Belle had a crush on their boss. A few times during staff meetings, Emma had caught Belle outright ogling him. It was actually kinda cute. Sure, Emma didn't get along well with the guy, and sure most of the school called him "the Beast," but Belle did seem to calm him down when she was in the room. If Emma had to guess, she would say that Gold had a crush on Belle as well. Why else would he insist on staff meetings in the library when the theater or cafeteria would work so much better?

When lunch came to an end, Emma said goodbye to her friends and headed back to her classroom. She was now excited to get back to teaching. It didn't dawn on her till that moment, but she hadn't really thought about Killian when she was listening to Elsa and Belle. Thinking about someone else's love life was actually helping her.

That was the best thing about teaching in middle school, she thought sarcastically, there was always a new love story. So that was her goal. She was gonna find some middle school drama to help distract her mind.

Her next class was Henry's. She was so thankful to see her son. While she may not be his adoptive mother yet, she saw him as her son. No matter what, she wanted him to feel that he belonged.

"Hey kid, how's it going?" she asked as the class settled into their movie. Henry's class was a bit different than the rest of her classes. She saw them every day, but for longer. She had them for two periods, back to back. They were her advanced class. So, they had already reviewed the test. So, as a prize for actually doing well on the test and for finishing the review quickly earlier in the week, she let them watch Jurassic Park.

"Pretty good; it's been a long day though. Steve and Nancy are fighting again, it's all they do recently. Robin and Tilly got back together again, which is nice," he started. Henry knew that Emma didn't always like to hear about the gossip that was happening at Storybrooke middle school, but he also knew that some of the gossip could help her as a teacher.

She listened to him for a few minutes. However, he realized that she wasn't paying full attention, which was weird for her.

"Mom, what's going on?" he asked.

She smiled to herself. First, she loved that he called her mom. He normally didn't do it in class, as he didn't want to keep bringing attention to the fact he was the teacher's kid. Secondly, she loved it cause even though the adoption didn't go through, and even though they have hit roadblock after roadblock, he still say her in the same light she saw him.

"It's a long story," she said.

"Well, I think we have time," he smiled, nodding his head towards the class of students enthralled with the movie.

She giggled a bit before beginning her story.

"Well, when I was really young I had a best friend named Killian. We were neighbors and Grandma was best friends with his mom, too. We did literally everything together. We even got married when we were five. But, abruptly, he had to move to Ireland. We tried to keep in touch for a while, but we lost contact. We've been friends on Facebook for a while and out of the blue, he messaged me and said he was back in town and wanted to meet for dinner. I said yes, and we are meeting tonight," she explained.

"And you're nervous, right?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Henry could read her like a book.

"A little; I haven't seen him in over 20 years. I'm not too sure what to expect," she answered.

"Why did he move away?"

"Well, I didn't know at first, none of us knew. Well, we didn't know. Grandma and the other adults did, they just didn't tell us. Turns out his father had left them and his mother wanted to chase after him," she recalled.

"That sucks. Why didn't he ever come back?" he asked. Emma hated reliving that day and the emotions that surrounded his leaving.

"I found out later that his mom got really sick after they moved. She passed away. I think that is why he stopped writing to me. He didn't have her around to help him write the letters. I'm not really sure what happened to him. I friended him on MySpace and Facebook, but nothing on there answered my questions as to why he stayed in Ireland or what happened to his family," she explained.

"So, are you going to ask him that?" she loved how Henry read her mind.

"Actually, that is what I have been wrestling with all day," she began. "I am not sure if I want to bring it up or not. I think I deserve an explanation, but at the same time, I want to just put the past behind us and be friends again."

She knew most parents didn't talk to their kids like this, but their relationship was different. She didn't want to hide things from Henry. She didn't want to force any type of relationship on him. Instead she thought she would let parenting come out through time and honest interactions. In truth, she was more like a big sister to him than a mother, but still had those mothering instincts with him.

"Sounds confusing," he added.

"It is. The whole thing is," she agreed.

"Well, I would want to know why if it was me. Just ask him. What's there to lose?" he pondered.

The kid was right. There wasn't much to lose by her really laying it all on the line. It's not like she and Killian had a real friendship to begin with. Sure, the foundation was there, the one they had built years earlier, but nothing else had been built. If she asked him and he refused to answer, or if he gave her some bullshit, then she wouldn't be at a loss.

"Well, I think that's enough insight into my strange life," she said. "Tell me about Violet."

She saw Henry blush at the name. She knew bringing up his own schoolboy crush would help her a bit. She knew it would provide her with a distraction.

It was a great distraction and before she knew it, the day was over. She had watched and listened as Henry tried not to go all gooey over his girlfriend who sat a few rows ahead of them, focus on the movie. Emma liked Violet enough—she was pretty, smart, independent, but respectful and kind. She just hoped that Violet wouldn't hold him to Storybrooke.

As it was with most small towns, many who grew up here, got boyfriends or girlfriends in middle school, stayed with them all of high school, and never left town because of them. Emma only left for college, and she was lucky. She didn't want Henry to live that way, though; she wanted him to go out and explore the world.

Now she only had to find a way to make it another three hours.

She wasn't planning on changing. She was already prepared for the date. While she may have decided that it was a date, she didn't want to go all out and look like she had that idea. She wanted to be casual. She didn't want to seem too eager or too excited, even though she was.

When she got home, she thought of something that might calm her down.

She went straight for her bedroom, not stopping for her after school snack, aka a glass of wine.

She bent down to the foot of her bed, felt around, and gave a tug. A large storage box came sliding towards her. Inside was a collection of diaries. She had been journaling since the year Killian stopped writing.

Now, they weren't traditional journals: she didn't start each entry with Dear Diary or finished them xoxo, but they were a collection of her thoughts. She wrote down quotes, and jotted down quick lists of things that happened that were worth her remembering. Some pictures were taped inside, too.

It had been years since she looked at them. She still kept a journal, but she rarely reread them. She was inspired by her mother to keep them, actually.

"Who knows, maybe one day you can pass them along to your daughter and she can get to know you a little better," she heard her mother say in her head.

She started with the very first one, a small little book that had a cover only a six year old girl could love. Inside were a collection of drawings and small notes, written in poor handwriting and even worse spelling.

She smiled at the book as she continued to flip the pages.

There were a couple of drawings of her and Killian, a few of the family dog, even more of princesses and unicorns, but what she settled on for a few moments was one she didn't draw.

It was an actual photo of herself and Alice. She didn't even remember the photo being taken or that she had it. Emma must have only been two or three in the picture. She was sitting on Alice's lap, with the woman's arms wrapped around her small body. She was giving Emma a kiss on the cheek and Emma's smile was so large that it was contagious.

As Emma continued to look at the photo her eyes filled with tears.

She knew that without Alice, none of this would have happened. She would have never met Killian, never became friends with him. She would never have had a second mom, or someone who made her smile when she wasn't getting along with her real mom. She would have never had some of the happiest moments in her life.

For so long, she had been angry with her. She was angry at a woman for following the man she loved, when Emma would have done the same thing given the chance.

In that moment, looking down at the picture, she knew she was no longer angry at Killian. If Emma had known about Alice all those years ago, or if the situation had been reversed, she probably would have done the same thing he did.

She looked at the clock and noticed the time; if she wanted to be on time, she needed to leave within a few minutes. She didn't want to keep Killian waiting, or herself; she had waited too long for this moment.