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cosette141 · 2 years ago

Text

When You Wish Upon A Star | OUAT fanfic

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Words: 8k

Summary: When David learns that Killian killed his father, David doesn’t forgive him. Killian is desperate to get his best friend back, but when David and Killian suddenly wake up in each other’s body, they might not even get themselves back. Oneshot (Captain Charming)

AO3

He smiled.

His sword sliced between the man's ribs.

And he smiled.

"Killian?"

Killian jerked from the memory—the horrible memory—the bloody worst thing he's ever done—from seeing the man—David's father—Emma's grandfather—die at his feet—at his hand—

—and he'd smiled—

"Killian!"

Killian jerked again, this time seeing Emma standing in front of him, her hands on his face, making him look at her, where they stood outside the door of her parents' loft.

"It's okay," said Emma softly. "We will get through this."

Killian swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest, his black, dead, cold heart, very much doubting that they would make it through this.

He's only gotten back from the mess with Gideon, from his return to Neverland and his very-near death. Emma's parents' Sleeping Curse has been broken for two days now, but they haven't seen them since.

The moment David had seen Killian again…

David and Snow both awake now, embraced their daughter together, pulling Henry in with them as well. Killian had stood unsure behind them. Emma had told him that David knew about his sin—what he'd done to David's father.

When David pulled away from his daughter, his eyes bright, his smile wide for his family, he then looked at Killian for the first time since the night he'd given Killian his blessing to marry his daughter.

David's eyes locked on his, and Killian stopped breathing.

The prince left his family to approach Killian, stopping in front of him.

"Ma—" began Killian, stopping himself from 'mate,' something he hasn't censored since Neverland. "D-David," he began unsteadily. "I… I can't even begin to tell you how sor—"

His words were sharply cut off when David's fist connected with his cheek, sending him crashing to the floor in surprise.

By the time Emma had helped him up, David was already gone.

The bruise on Killian's cheek was gone now, healed by Emma's magic, something Killian had asked her not to do.

He deserved the pain.

And he deserved the scar of it.

Hell, he deserved David's sword through his own ribs.

(Again.)

Despite Emma and Snow's attempts to get David and him in the same room, David hadn't gone anywhere near him ever since.

On this specific occasion, Emma and Snow have secretly planned for him to stop by, not telling David to avoid him leaving. But, in Emma's words, they were planning to "lock them both in the same room until they work this out with magic if they had to".

"You can do this," encouraged Emma softly, her fingers in his, and Killian still couldn't believe that he had her forgiveness.

He had everyone's except David, which was shocking to him in its own right.

But if he could have anyone's right now, it was David.

The man who had slowly become a friend, a brother, and now… nearly a father-in-law. (He tried not to think about the strangeness of that). He'd take strange.

He just wanted David back.

So, Emma knocked on the door, and it opened quickly, revealing Snow. She gave Killian a pitied smile. "Come in," she said softly.

They did, Emma having to tug Killian along.

Just as David got up from the couch, and froze.

His lax expression immediately hardened, a contempt aimed at Killian that hasn't been in his eyes since Neverland.

"What the hell is he doing here?" demanded David, shooting an accusing look at his wife and daughter, whom both winced.

"David," said Snow in a soft chastisement, yet still gentle. "I know you're hurting, and I know… I know what Killian's done is…" Killian flinched. "But… he's changed, and we've seen him change…"

"He saved your life in Neverland," Emma reminded him, something that both men revealed over a dinner months ago. "He saved all of us, he died for us," she said, voice choking up at that, "and he's so sorry—"

Killian felt the muscle in his jaw twitch, needing to speak for himself. Despite how much he appreciated their help. "David," he said, eyes burning. "I am… I can't even… I am so sorry," his voice choked. "I… I was… I wasn't m-myself back then. I was a… monster. A… villain," he said, the word sending a shiver down his spine. "And I… if I could take it back, I would in a bloody second—"

"Well," David cut him off. "You can't."

With that, he shoved past Killian, grabbing the door and slamming it shut.

"Dav—" began Snow, about to go after him, but Killian held up his hand to stop her.

He opened the door, rushing after David.

He found him walking swiftly down the sidewalk, his silhouette only lit by the moon and the stars, and Killian called, "David!"

David kept walking.

"David, please!"

Killian took David's arm to stop him, only for David to turn sharply toward him with a scowl, and Killian winced, stepping back.

"David," stressed Killian, every bit of regret that was killing him coming out, roughing his voice. "I am so bloody sorry," he choked out, a tear burning down his cheek. Because the worst thing he's ever done, he's done to his very best friend.

"Really?" asked David, whirling on him, eyes filled with anger and pain. "Were you sorry when you assisted me in finding the monster," he ground out, making Killian's eyes burn, "who killed my father? Trying to convince me to stop looking because he was standing right next to me?"

"I told you," stressed Killian, face breaking with the utter pain making him want to explode. "I didn't realize that I—" He couldn't even say it. "I didn't realize it until afterward, until August gave me that damn page—" He shut his eyes, letting out a defeated breath. "David, I swear to you, I have never regretted anything more than what I did to your father." Another tear burned down his cheek. "I was… I was a monster," he admitted, the words burning through his lips. "I… I wasn't myself, I… I didn't… I—" He remembered that phase, that… condition he was in. Ruled by pain and darkness and misery, and…. Emptiness. He didn't even feel like a person. "I just… I just wish you could see it from my perspective," he whispered brokenly.

"What do you want from me?" snapped David coldly.

"I… I want you to tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness," breathed Killian, another tear burning down his cheek.

"You can't."

With that, David turned and walked away, leaving Killian frozen to the ground, feeling like he was hit with something so much more painful than David's fist.

It was hours before Killian went home, finding Emma having waited up for him on the couch.

She opened her mouth to ask something, but at his face, closed it, mirroring his sadness.

She embraced him anyway, promising him that David would come around.

They retired to their bedroom not long after, and Killian shut his eyes.

Just as he began to drift into a restless sleep, he felt something shift in his chest.

But he was asleep before he could question what it was.

-.-.

Killian felt himself wake slowly, reminded of the days as Captain Hook, where every day was just another day without color.

He sighed, wondering how the hell he was supposed to fix this with David.

He lifted his left arm to prop himself up to get out of bed, only to realize that he felt something he hasn't experienced in centuries.

For years after losing his left hand, he would still almost feel his fingers, even if they weren't there.

But…

He hasn't felt his phantom hand in ages.

So why…?

He opened his eyes, looking down, wondering if he went to bed with his hook again.

Except…

His hook wasn't there.

Neither was his brace.

Instead…

There was a hand.

He stared in shock.

He shook himself; he must still be dreaming.

But… this didn't feel like a dream.

He lifted his right hand, staring at two hands.

What…?

He closed both hands.

The fingers listened.

Two hands.

But… that wasn't all.

He suddenly realized something else wrong.

He was in Emma's parents' loft.

No—worse.

In her parents' bed.

Killian jerked out of the bed, whirling around, terrified to see Snow or David.

But the bed was empty except for him.

The whole apartment was, in fact.

He breathed out in relief.

Killian was also wearing… David's bedtime wear?

His heart pounded. "What the bloody—"

But he froze.

That wasn't his voice.

It wasn't even his accent.

It actually sounded like…

He couldn't breathe.

Killian all but ran to the bathroom.

Shutting his eyes, he winced, then opened his eyes in front of the mirror.

He felt his jaw drop.

But not his jaw.

Because staring back at him, his own bloody reflection, was David.

-.-.

David groaned.

His head pounded.

His brow furrowed with the pain, the awful ache behind his eyes that he didn't think he'd drunk enough to cause. He breathed slow, trying to quell the sudden rush of nausea, but it passed after a few breaths.

Perhaps it wasn't alcohol—it also could have been stress, as Snow seemed to go on and on about how much stress he'd been putting himself under, especially while they'd been under the shared Sleeping Curse. That mixed with Emma's—thankfully sidestepped—fate and everything about his father...

Familiar, stark anger rose under his skin, remembering the conversation with Hook from last night.

Hook.

He could hardly even picture the man without feeling a blinding hatred. Someone he nearly treated as a brother, as his closest friend, had killed his father. His good, innocent, finally decent father. He had ruined his father's chance at redemption, ended his life in cold blood and left David and his mother with unbearable pain that never, ever truly left either of them.

And now?

Now, Hook was going to become his son-in-law.

His practical son, who had murdered his father.

Murdered Emma's grandfather.

Her grandfather, whom she could have met if it hadn't been for Hook.

And his father would never see justice from the cold-hearted, soulless pirate his daughter had so unfortunately fallen in love with. And how she, and her mother, could still look at Hook, after what he'd done?

David groaned again, his hand rubbing at his eyes, where the intense throbbing was at its worst.

He must have woken Snow, because a hand was suddenly gently on his face, thumb brushing over his skin. David smiled a little at Snow's touch.

"You okay?"

David's eyes snapped open.

That wasn't Snow's voice.

That was Emma.

His heart suddenly pounding in his chest, he blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling.

He wasn't in bed with Snow.

He was in bed with Emma.

Which meant…

That hand on his face…

Horrible, terrible, wrong panic shot through him.

"What's wrong?" came Emma's voice again, and David turned his head, eyes flying wide. Emma was lying in the bed next to him, her hand still on his face with a touch that was far too tender for a father and daughter.

That cold panic ran through his entire body.

He was in bed with his daughter.

Why the hell was he in bed with his daughter?

She was staring at him with rich concern, like there was something wrong with him, a sort of lovingness in her eyes that should not be directed at her father.

He was in bed.

With his daughter.

In bed.

No.

Nonononono—he wasn't even going there. There was no way. He—something must have happened last night, he got drunk or injured—head injury, it had to be—no, he must have just been closer to Emma's house than home, and… and, they let him sleep it off… or… something...

But damn it, it did not explain the fact that his daughter was leaning over to kiss him.

David jerked away, moving quickly away from her before she could.

Stark hurt gleaned in Emma's eyes at his recoil. She reached for his face again, but he flinched back. "I don't understand," she whispered, voice hurt. "Did I do something? What's wrong?"

Everything.

"Killian?"

That gave him pause.

Panic rushing to a halt, absolute confusion filling its place, David asked, "Why did you just call me—"

He froze.

His voice.

That wasn't his voice.

He didn't have an accent.

Trying to sit up, because something was horribly, horribly wrong, David faltered, his left hand for whatever reason having gone completely numb. Had he slept on it? He looked down, intending to shake feeling back into it.

His heart stopped.

His hand was gone.

His arm simply… ended.

Fear and shock flooded him.

"Killian…?"

Holy lord.

Shock widening his eyes even more with the sudden horrible understanding, he turned a bewildered gaze onto Emma. She was looking at him with nothing short of fearful concern. She saw him stare in shock at his—at Hook's—left arm, and her brows kneaded with sad understanding. She suddenly touched his left arm, fingers feather-light where the wrist ended in a stump. "Did you dream about it again?" she whispered.

David blinked.

He was Hook.

This can't be happening.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Emma, now concerned for a different reason. From her tone of voice, this wasn't an uncommon topic for first thing in the morning.

David shook himself.

He was in Hook's body.

Emma reached for him again, and David reflexively began to move away but Emma's cell phone suddenly rang from the nightstand. She looked from David to her ringing phone, and with a slightly apologetic look she sat up and answered it.

David blinked, trying to figure out how the hell to explain this to Emma.

"What?"

David looked at Emma, seeing her brows shoot up.

"Um, okay," said Emma, biting her lip. "Weird." She sighed. "I'm sure it's fine… Yeah, let me know," she said, and hung up the phone. Looking at David, she said, "That was my mom."

Putting the whole trapped-in-a-pirate's-body thing aside for half a second, David felt fear shoot through him. "Snow? Is she all right?"

Emma looked a little surprised by his fear. "Uh, yeah, it's just… weird. She said David just… took off without telling her where he was going."

David froze.

He had a clone running around?

Wait.

If he was in Hook's body…

No.

Absolutely not.

"Mom said she took Leo for a walk, but by the time she came back he was gone. He didn't even take the truck or his phone." said Emma.

Hook had been in bed with his wife.

David was off the bed in seconds.

"Killian?!"

Getting a furious heat every time he heard that name, David tried to keep his calm. If he could track down the damn pirate, he could make him undo whatever spell or potion he used to trap them like this and no one will be the wiser.

Dammit he wasn't about to tell his daughter they were just in bed together.

"Where are you going?" asked Emma. "You don't seem like yourself," she said, her brow lifting like she does when she's trying to catch someone in a lie.

She doesn't know the half of it.

David paused, trying to come up with an excuse to leave. "I—I'll go look for Ho—David," he said awkwardly.

Emma's brows kneaded. "I thought you said it didn't go well last night," she said sadly.

David froze.

No, it didn't.

He swallowed.

"Maybe my dad just needed to blow off some steam and go for a run or something," suggested Emma.

David thought fast. "Without his phone?"

Emma's brows lifted with surprise. "You finally stopped referring to it as a talking phone, huh?"

David blinked.

Right. Hook.

He cleared his throat. "Just in case something's wrong," he tried again. Because oh, when he found him, something was going to be wrong, all right.

Emma stood, walking around the bed to him, putting her hands around his neck. David tensed but she didn't try to kiss him. "Killian, I know it's killing you that he's upset. You've barely slept all week."

David tried not to react.

"One day," she whispered, "he'll see you the way he used to. The way I do. I know it. Just give it some time. He'll forgive you."

No, he won't.

David swallowed. "I'll go find him and… fix this mess."

One of the messes, anyway.

Emma sighed.

-.-.

Killian stopped, ducking into an alley, panting hard.

He was only lucky that Snow hadn’t been in the loft—or gods forbid, in bed. He grabbed a pair of David’s shoes and bolted.

There was zero chance he was going to risk Snow kissing him. He was lucky as all hell that she wasn't in bed when he woke up.

David hated him already.

Bloody hell.

He was David.

How the devil did this happen?!

Killian stared at his hands.

His hands.

There was a piece of scrap wood on the ground at his feet. Killian picked it up, holding it between his hands. Felt it in his left fingers.

For half a second, he wanted to breathe out in relief.

Two hands.

Tears sprung to his eyes.

The last time he'd had two hands was when he made the bloody deal with the Crocodile, and he hadn't even been able to enjoy it for a full day.

But these weren't his hands, they were David's and damn it this was so wrong.

He dropped the wood, scrubbing his right hand over his face.

Regina.

That was it.

He could go to Regina. This had dark magic all over it.

Killian left the alley.

Not a moment later, he was tackled back into the alley.

His back—David's back, that was—slammed into the wall, and Killian grimaced, fighting the—

—incredibly familiar hand on his chest.

He blinked, freezing his movements.

In shock, he stared at himself.

It wasn't the first time he stared at himself, and the last time he'd even knocked himself out.

But this time, this other him looked absolutely murderous.

"What the hell did you do?" snarled the Killian before him.

"I…" breathed Killian, in utter shock.

His doppleganger shoved him harder against the wall, making him cringe. "Don't play games with me, Hook!" growled the other Killian. "Switch us back, now."

Killian blinked.

Switch…?

Suddenly, it clicked.

If Killian was in David's body...

That must mean…

Bloody hell.

"David?" breathed Killian.

His brows rose in a duh look, and Killian suddenly realized what people meant by his expressive eyebrows.

"Switch us back," growled David, shoving him again, pinning him with Killian's own right hand, "or I swear to god I'll—" He reared back his left, stopping abruptly when he realized he had no hand.

"Works better when there's a hook at the end of it," muttered Killian. Except, he paused, because David wasn't wearing his brace.

It was only recently that he'd started to remove his brace at night. It had taken him so long to even allow Emma to see it, to see… beneath it, but he never wanted to make it a normal occasion. But after his return from the Underworld, Emma had finally coaxed him into feeling… accepted by her. It was proven to him that, at that point, after everything he'd done, all the sides of him she's seen… nothing would push her away from him.

That by no means meant he was excited about the whole town seeing it.

"Where the bloody hell is my brace?" he growled.

"I don't give a damn!" snapped David right back. Shoving him again, he said, "Change us back! I'm sick of looking at you and I don't want to have to do it every time I look in a mirror!"

Killian shut his eyes at the contempt in his voice. Swallowing, he said, "Mate, I—"

"I am not your mate!"

Boy, it was weird hearing that line from his own voice.

"David," he altered, "I don't know what the bloody hell you're talking about because I didn't do this!" he said angrily. "What could I possibly gain?!"

"I don't know," hissed David, "two hands?"

Killian's jaw snapped shut.

It was a low blow, and it hurt.

"I told you," said Killian when he could find his voice, "I didn't do this. I woke up in your body, confused out of my bloody mind."

"Well I woke up in bed with my daughter," hissed David.

Killian's brows shot up.

Bloody damn hell.

"Did you tell her you weren't me?" he demanded.

"Before or after she tried to kiss me?" snapped David.

Killian felt his heart drop down to his boots. "She what?!"

"She didn't," added David in a mutter, making Killian nearly breath out in relief. "And no, of course not! You fix whatever spell you used and I don't have to tell her anything!"

"In case you haven't noticed," shouted Killian right back, "I'm not a bloody magic user!"

"You don't need to use magic to make a potion," growled David.

Killian let his head fall against the wall, shutting his eyes in frustration, finding it bloody ridiculous that he was pinning himself against a wall. "How many times do I have to tell you I didn't do this?!"

David glared at him for a solid minute, and Killian glared right back. After a moment, Killian watched the fire waver in his—David's—eyes. "You didn't, did you?"

"No."

After a moment, David released him. Killian fought the urge to rub the pain from his shoulders.

A little of that glare back, David muttered, "Well this is just great."

Sick of being treated like this—however much he deserved it—Killian narrowed his eyes. "I'm not happy about it either."

Slight silence spread.

Killian was the one to break it. "We should tell them," he said quietly.

"I am not walking up to my wife looking like you," snarled David, "to tell her I'm me!"

The angry heat under Killian's skin made him retort, "Afraid she'd prefer it?"

He hadn't clapped back with that kind of line in years, and he winced the moment it left his mouth. David's constant verbal punches shorted his temper and Killian suddenly wished he could take it back.

He wished he could take so, so many things back.

Angrily, David fisted Killian's own right hand, making Killian brace himself but David stopped himself. "You're damn lucky I'm not going to punch my own face."

Killian winced. "I'm sorry," he sighed shortly, because dammit he was doing a great job making things better with David. "But you have a point. I'm not sure Emma or her Highness would know exactly how to… be… around us at all," he admitted. If they were stuck like this—god forbid, forever—Emma would never kiss him again. And she'd be right to. He's in her father's body for the love of Davy Jones.

David huffed out a breath. "Any bright ideas, pirate?"

Killian bristled a little, hating how the title always sounded like an insult. "We should find someone who does practice magic," he said.

"Gold?" suggested David, and Killian wrinkled his nose hearing his voice call him anything except the name he created for the monster.

"The Crocodile? You're not serious," said Killian in disbelief.

David shook his head. "You're right. Bad idea."

"Regina?" suggested Killian.

David sighed. "Let's hope she knows what the hell happened."

-.-.

They walked the few blocks to Regina's house.

Along the way, neither of them spoke other than Killian's quiet request that David keep his left arm beneath the sleeve of his jacket at all times.

David huffed a "Fine," but said nothing else.

David knocked on the door. They both waited until it opened, revealing Regina.

Her brows lifted in unimpressed surprise. "Um," she said, looking from both of them and back. "What?" Confusion and disinterest colored her tone, sounding like she was distracted by something else.

"We…" began Killian, but David cut him off.

"Morning... love," he greeted, making Killian wince at the unsteady way he phrased the epithet, shooting him a confused look. "We had a theory about how to handle our current crisis," said David smoothly as hook, and Killian raised his brows.

Killian blinked.

So that's why the walk over here was so silent.

David spent the whole damn time crafting a lie.

Regina crossed her arms. "I'm listening."

"We were wondering about… could you cast a temporary, I don't know, body-swapping spell?"

Regina lifted her brow. "Body-swapping? That's your idea?"

"One of them," said David.

She looked from Killian to David, as if she sensed something off, but not what. "Like Pan did?" she clarified.

"Exactly like that," said David, brows rising. Killian's interest perked even more, having forgotten about when Pan switched bodies with Henry.

"Yeah, well that's because he was Pan," deadpanned Regina. "I have no idea how to do that kind of magic. Gold needed his dagger's power to undo what that creepy little brat did to Henry."

Killian shut his eyes.

"Gold—ah, Rumplestiltskin," echoes David.

"Yep."

A slight silence.

Then—

"Well, we'll keep thinking," said David awkwardly.

Regina nodded impatiently. "And then try a phone."

She shut the door. Hard.

David raised Killian's eyebrow.

Before he could say it, Killian said, "No."

He wasn't exactly surprised when David ignored him.

-.-.-.

The bell to the Crocodile's shop rang as they walked through the door.

Killian felt himself go instantly on edge just being in the very room.

"Gold," called David.

The curtains leading to the back of the shop moved aside and the Crocodile walked through them. He eyed both Killian and David in surprise, then suspicion, then…

He smiled. "Well, isn't this interesting."

"I knew he was bloody responsible," growled Killian.

Rumplestiltskin turned his unsettling smile onto Killian. "Captain. You look… different."

"Did you do this to us?" demanded David.

Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow. "And why would I waste any of my valuable time doing something so pointless?" He watched Killian seethe. "Though, I see the entertainment factor."

"Obviously you know we're… like this," said David. "If you didn't do it, how can you tell?"

"Other than the fact that neither of you walk like you're supposed to and you," he said to David, "clearly don't know what to do with a missing hand?" Turning a sick smile onto Killian, he sneered, "Maybe you can give him some pointers. Or, well. One."

Killian jerked, but David grabbed his arm. "Get yourself killed when you're not in my body," he hissed.

Reluctantly, Killian stayed put.

"Look," said David with waning patience. "You returned Henry to his body when Pan switched them. Get your dagger and fix us."

Gold smiled a tight-lipped smile. "What's in it for me, dearie?"

"Either do it for us now," said David firmly, "or we find Belle and ask her to convince you to. You're walking on thin ice with her as it is."

Gold's smile disappeared. "Very well." He walked into the back of the shop, returning a few moments later with the dagger. He held it between the two of them. He closed his eyes, and Killian suddenly felt a sensation that he was falling.

But as quick as it came, it abruptly stopped, like he hit a wall.

Both he and David stumbled. Killian caught himself on the counter, but David missed it—Killian understood that all too well—and he fell to his knees.

"What the bloody hell happened?" demanded Killian, staring at David's hands. He looked at the man himself. "I'm still you."

"And I'm still you," muttered David, using his right hand to get to his feet.

"Peculiar."

Both men looked at him.

"What is?" asked David.

Gold pocketed his dagger. "Looks like I won't be able to help you after all."

"Why the hell not?" growled Killian.

"This type of magic is some of the only magic I cannot touch," explained Gold, and by the victorious smile on his face, Killian knew it was the truth. "The only similar magic I've seen is that infused with the genie lamp our friend Aladdin found himself in."

"You're saying this is like wish magic?" said David blankly.

"That is exactly what I'm saying," said Gold.

"And you can't fix it," confirmed David flatly.

"No." He looked between them. "Magic is a fickle thing, dearies. Sometimes it finds you. And if you happen to wish something badly enough—"

"I made no such wish!" exclaimed David. "To be—to be him?" he breathed, making Killian stiffen. "Why the hell would I wish—" He turned to Killian, fury in his eyes. "Unless you—"

"Ma—" Killian caught himself from using the forbidden nickname. "David, I told you, I have no bloody reason to be you! I didn't bloody make any sort of wish last night!"

"Well neither did I!"

"Well one of you did," said Gold, making them look at him. "Magic like this only affects people strictly involved. One of you made it and you'll have to see it through. It happened for a reason and until that reason is met, this is how you'll remain."

"We don't even know what the hell kind of a wish it was," stressed David. "See what through?"

"That, dearie, is not my concern." said Gold. "Best figure it out soon, or it will be a very uncomfortable wedding."

Gold walked back into the back room, leaving Killian frozen in horror.

The wedding.

If this magic has to run its course, if it takes until they see it through—

What if it takes too long?

What if they're stuck like this forever?

David whirled on him. "You wished to be me?!"

Killian's eyes narrowed. "I didn't bloody wish for anything except you to—" Killian hesitated.

David froze. "You did wish something," he breathed. "What? What the hell did you wish, Hook?"

Killian blinked.

He remembered the conversation last night, how he felt, how desperately he wanted David to forgive him.

"I… I might have," he admitted, seeing David narrow his eyes. "But I didn't bloody realize I was wishing it!"

"What the hell did you wish?"

"I just wanted you to forgive me." said Killian in a defeated voice.

David held his gaze, furious emotion in Killian's own blue eyes.

"Then I guess we're staying like this forever."

And with that, David walked away.

Killian shut his eyes.

-.-.-.

Killian had to run to catch up with him.

"David," he called.

He kept walking.

"Please," he tried, and he picked up his pace, feeling a terrible sense of deja vu.

"What?" snapped David, whirling around.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he said.

"Just like you didn't mean to put a sword through my father?"

Killian's eyes screwed shut.

A million different apologies rushed through him, but he swallowed them all. They won't work.

"I know you won't forgive me," said Killian heavily. "After what I did… I get it." A cold feeling settled inside him when David made no move to argue. "But if this… this wish or this whatever it is, is waiting for you to forgive me to break it... then maybe you can just... say it. Without… without being sincere."

David held his gaze, and Killian couldn't get over how weird it was to see David's emotions in his eyes.

But David sighed. "Fine." With complete insincerity, he said, "I forgive you."

The way he said it held such disgust that Killian wasn't surprised in the least when the curse wasn't broken.

Quietly, Killian said, "You might need to mean it, ma—" Killian caught himself, "David."

David glared at him.

A long moment passed.

"I can't."

Killian felt his shoulders fall. He shut his eyes. "You're not even going to bloody try?"

"Like you tried to spare my father's—"

"Enough!" growled Killian. "I said I was bloody sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't bring my father back."

Killian shut his eyes.

He was not having this conversation again.

He couldn't.

As heartless as David thought he was, he had one, and it was currently in pieces.

"David," said Killian heavily. "Your wife is going to want to see you at some point!"

"Then we find another way."

"The bloody Dark One couldn't do it!"

"Well then you shouldn't have wished it in the first place!"

Killian wanted to scream.

"I just wanted my friend back!"

The words came out before Killian could stop them, and he saw David pause.

Then, he looked Killian in the eye.

"And I just want my father back."

Killian felt ice slide through his chest, much the same as his sword had cut through David's father.

David huffed a sigh. "We're going to have to figure this out together," he said, like the idea did not excite him in the least. "But I… I need to get some air. Meet me in one hour at the Blue Fairy's. We're going to find a way to break this damn wish, and then I never want to see your face again."

David walked away, and Killian shut his eyes, trying to will away the burn behind his eyes.

-.-.

David walked through the trees of the Storybrooke woodland, trying to shake the angry heat in his veins.

He needed to get away from him.

The forest always felt like a calming place to him, so he attempted to calm down enough to face the bastard again and get this over with.

David came to a stop at the edge of the lake, accidentally catching a glimpse of his face—Hook's face—in the water.

With a growl, he kicked a rock into the water, watching the reflection shatter in ripples.

"No!"

He fought the ropes of the mast, securing him tightly to his own bloody ship. The Dark One's magic held him tight—too tight.

Milah's heart was in the imp's hand.

She couldn't breathe.

He himself couldn't breathe.

She crumpled to the ground.

The magic released him, and he ran, panic consuming him, catching her before she could hit the deck.

"I love you."

And just like that, the Dark One crushed the heart, killing her in an instant.

Despair, horrible, blinding, despair—

David gasped, hands flying to his aching head, only his right hand making it.

He watched her body fall into the water with a splash.

Kept his eyes on her until she disappeared beneath the waves.

A horrible sense of loneliness.

And he looked down at his left hand—or, where it had once been.

It hurt.

It hurt so horribly.

But it was nothing compared to the loss of her.

David fell to his knees, eyes screwed shut.

But the ache faded away, as did the visions.

He stared at the water, seeing Hook's reflection.

What…?

What did he just see?

Were those…?

Hook's memories?

The woman.

Somehow he knew her name was Milah.

The one who was killed, and launched Hook on his quest for revenge.

He could still feel the emotions from the memory.

Hook's emotions.

The sense of loss, the empty loneliness in his chest.

He had nothing.

No one.

David blinked, staring at Hook's face in the water.

David himself had dealt with loss before.

He'd lost his mother.

But… he'd never experienced having nothing.

He'd had Snow, and the dwarves and the Kingdom. He'd never once been truly alone.

He'd never experience the sheer sort of loneliness that Hook's memory brought. It was such a strong hurt that it felt physical.

David swallowed.

But he shut his eyes, tearing his gaze away from the water.

It felt horrible.

It was horrible, how Hook had once felt.

But he was a pirate.

He's taken so many lives.

He was a villain.

Loneliness didn't condone murdering an innocent man.

That didn't condone murdering his father.

David picked himself up, faltering when he forgot he didn't have a left hand.

He sighed, and he started back.

-.-.

David saw Killian—or, himself, as it was—waiting for him just outside the mansion.

Killian had his hands in his pockets, leaning against a tree. When he noticed David, he seemed to tense, and straightened immediately.

David felt the angry heat he'd tried to shake off the past hour return at the sight of him.

"Let's get this over with," snapped David.

Wordlessly, Killian nodded, and they both started up the steps to the mansion.

Once David walked through the door, Mother Superior was standing in the foyer already. Her brows crinkled when she saw them.

"I thought I was needed," she said softly. Looking between the two of them, her brows rose a little. "Oh," she said with a little surprise.

"How you and Gold can notice it in a second," said David, "and my daughter couldn't after ten minutes, I'll never understand."

She smiled a little. "Those of us who have been with magic longer sense it easier." She clasped her hands. "I'm assuming you came to get changed back?"

"Can you?" asked Killian.

She pulled out her wand, shutting her eyes and holding it between them like Gold had done with the dagger.

Her eyes opened. "Wish magic."

"Yes," said Killian, "the Crocodile told us that much. He either didn't know how to fix us or didn't want to."

"I sense he has told you how to solve your problem," she said quietly.

David fought the urge to groan. "We were wondering if there was another way. Without… fulfilling the wish."

Her brows crinkled. "With a wish this strong?"

David's brows rose, looking at Killian.

…Who suddenly found the floor incredibly interesting.

"What do you mean?" asked David.

"A wish fueled with this much emotion is near impossible to break before fulfilled," she said.

David blinked.

Emotion?

Hook wished for his forgiveness that badly?

Shaking away the wonderment, David said, "Near impossible. You said near." Raising a brow, he said, "There is a way, isn't there?"

Blue hesitated.

"What is it?" breathed David.

She sighed. "The only way to break it would be to drink broken magic."

Both David and Hook simply blinked in confusion.

"Drink what?" Hook asked.

"It would be impossible in the Enchanted Forest or any other realm," said Blue, "but this is a land without magic. At least, outside these city limits. If you were to take the well water, where our magic here originates, pass it over the town line and then drink it, there is a great chance this will be broken."

"We can't just walk over the town line?" asked David.

"For a wish this strong," she repeated again, making David try his best to ignore how Hook went rigid, "you'll need the strongest, most pure magic here to break. You cannot break this spell without broken pure magic. And it must be retrieved together."

David sighed. "Okay. Well water, town line." He nodded. "Easier than I thought."

Blue regarded him, and then Hook, with a thoughtful gaze. Almost like she knew something they didn't.

But David was already walking away, determined and ready to get this over with.

Not too far away was one of the two town cruisers.

David always left a spare key under the rim, and when he got to the car. He retrieved it.

With a sigh, he waited for Hook to catch up.

They needed to do this together, it seemed, which really ruined David's plan of getting it all himself.

David let himself into the car, watching Hook silently get in the passengers seat.

David reached to close the door, but remembered.

No left hand.

With a sigh he reached his right hand to pull the door shut. Then, he grabbed the seatbelt, pulling it over himself, his left arm moving to help it, but again—no left hand. He tried again, but the belt retracted completely.

"This is impossible!" growled David.

A slight silence spread in the passenger seat as David tried to get the seatbelt with one hand.

"You get used to it."

David paused at the quiet voice, seeing Hook not looking at him, and instead at David's own left hand. He was opening and closing it.

Just because he could.

David finally got the seatbelt to click in. He looked at Hook, seeing a familiar emotion in his eyes to something David felt in Hook's memory.

But then, he remembered himself.

Remembered the man sitting next to him was his father's murderer.

And he put the car into gear, pulling onto the street, doing his best to do everything one handed.

Hook didn't say anything else.

Just kept opening and closing his hand in silence.

-.-.-

They walked through the woods in silence.

David took the lead, letting Hook slink behind.

He really did look miserable.

But David didn't let himself fall for it.

He killed your father, he told himself firmly.

David tripped, nearly falling, but caught himself.

"Woah," he said, catching himself on the side of the ship, staring his five-year-old eyes onto the water.

"Careful, there, Killian," said his father, standing beside him. "You'll get your sea legs one day, m'boy."

"Will you teach me to sail?"

His father ruffled his hair. "Of course, my son."

David gasped, his head pounding.

He woke up in his cabin, but Liam wasn't in his bed across from him.

He sat up. "Father?" he called.

Liam, a few years older than him but not even yet a teenager, came in. "It's just us, Killian. Remember?"

"He'll come back," he replied with a sureness that shook. "He told me he's gonna teach me to sail."

Liam took his shoulders. "Killian, he sold us to the ship. He isn't coming back. But I will never leave you." He smiled. "I'll teach you to sail."

Sadness, fear, emptiness.

Desperation.

"You won't leave?" he whispered.

"Never."

David fell to his knee.

"David?!"

"Liam!"

He was turning black. The poison was taking his life.

"He wouldn't have if you hadn't goaded him into it."

No.

He couldn't lose him.

No.

The boy led him to the water, the blackness was receding.

Liam was saved.

His brother was all right.

His fractured world put haphazardly back together.

"Killian, I'm sorry. You were the honorable one. Not me."

Killian smiled.

They were in the cabin.

Liam couldn't breathe.

He fell.

"Help!"

Killian cradled him.

Tears burned down his face.

He was gone.

He was dead.

Killian was alone.

David felt a sharp shake.

"David!"

David opened his eyes, seeing himself—or, as it was, Hook—leaning over him with stark concern.

David blinked, headache receding.

"Are you all right?" asked Hook shakily. "Don't tell me I'm bloody dying," he said, almost like a joke, but the fear in his eyes gave him away.

David was still reeling from the memories.

How could one person lose so much?

And for his father to walk away from him when he was just a child?

To lose his brother as a teenager?

And then to fall in love, only to have her killed before his eyes?

Hook's emotions in the memories were still inside him.

He killed your father.

"David?!"

David shoved him off, getting back to his feet, even when he forgot yet again how difficult it was without a left hand.

He started walking again.

Hook hurried to catch up with him. "You're not going to bloody tell me why you just collapsed?"

"Tripped."

Hook glared at him.

But he let it drop.

David suddenly wondered if the pirate was seeing his own memories.

He walked faster.

And he tried not to think about the horrible emptiness he still felt linger from the memories.

They made it to the well not long after.

David began to pull the bucket of water up, only remembering that he was missing a hand.

Again.

Wordlessly, Hook took over.

David stared at the trees.

He took a swig of rum, straight from the bottle.

He used to be proud of his tolerance. Now he's annoyed he's too good at drinking.

He was alone.

In every sense of the word.

He was in his cabin, sat behind his desk.

He thought of his brother.

Wondered how disappointed he would be in him.

He thought of Milah.

Looked at his hand. His hook.

He wondered if she would still love him like this.

He missed her.

He took another swig.

He killed four people today.

He felt nothing.

He hasn't felt anything in centuries.

He'll kill again tomorrow.

He'll feel nothing again.

He'll continue his search for the Crocodile.

He only hoped that once he's dead, maybe he will feel something again.

Something other than hatred.

And he learned something tonight, something he's known forever but only admitted tonight.

He didn't hate the Crocodile any more than he hated himself.

"Got it."

David jerked, eyes flying open, glad the tree had been at his back. His head throbbed.

David cleared his throat.

Hook nodded toward the town line without looking at him.

David stared after him.

He killed your father.

The words don't hold the same amount of heat.

David swallowed, and he followed.

-.-.

Hook was standing at the edge of the town, before the line.

He had the bucket in his right hand.

David walked to him.

"Let's get it over with, shall we," said Hook quietly.

David moved to nod.

"I found this."

August handed him the page.

He looked.

And he recognized David's father.

Horror sank through him.

No.

It couldn't be.

Please, no.

He couldn't breathe.

His legs were numb.

How could he do this?

How could he ever have done this?

How could he have been such a terrible, vile person?

He was just beginning to feel redeemed.

He's hated himself so much.

He still did.

But he had just begun to feel proud.

He had just gained David's approval.

He never even thought he could gain him as a friend.

Panic shot through him.

David.

No.

No, no, no….

How could he do this?

He could remember it, he could picture it.

The sword in his grip, the steel sliding into the man's body.

His eyes burned.

He wanted to scream.

David feels two hand grab him before he can fall.

"David?! Mate?!"

Hook steadied him.

David looked at him.

Felt the panic from the memory.

"David," breathed Hook. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

David, in all his life, had never felt that.

Felt a hatred that strong, directed at himself.

Felt a constant uphill battle to do better.

And felt such utter remorse, such panic, such desperation to lose the people he had been almost too afraid to let into his life after so much loss.

This was a man who was broken more than David could ever imagine.

A man who realized how far wrong he had been, and clawed his way back to right.

David had known Hook wanted to make things right, had regretted what he had done, but he didn't understand just how deeply he did.

And suddenly, his headache grew tenfold, accompanied with the strict feeling of falling.

David watched Hook's eyes screw shut before his own did, both men nearly collapsing from the pressure.

When David opened his eyes, he was facing the other direction.

And standing where he had been was Hook.

Hook grimaced, his hand to his head, slowly opening his eyes. When he saw David, his eyes widened. "Bloody—" He looked to the town line. "We didn't even do it," he breathed. "How…?"

"I never knew."

Hook paused, brows lifting. "Sorry?"

"I never knew," said David, tossing the bucket to the ground. "How much you lost."

Hook tensed. "What..?"

"I don't know how, but… I could… see some of your memories," said David.

Hook went rigid.

"Hook," said David, tensing Hook even more. He sighed. "I can't forgive what you've done."

David watch despair descend in Hook's eyes. "I… understand," he said quietly.

"But I do forgive you."

Hook's brows shot to his hairline.

"Killian, what I saw, what your life was," he said slowly, "I don't know how I would have lived through it. I can't say that I'm okay with the fact that you…" He didn't phrase it but Hook flinched a little. "I guess I'm trying to say that I could see it from your... perspective. I could feel what you felt. You aren't that man anymore."

Hook looked at him with such hope that David had the stark reminder of the memory of Killian as a little boy.

"I'm sorry for how I spoke to you," added David. "Especially about your hand. It was uncalled for."

Hook shook his head. "It wasn't. David, I really do wish I could—"

David slapped a hand over his mouth. "Do not finish that thought."

David removed his hand, and Hook smiled.

A little piece of his heart falling back into place.

--.-.-.

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