#just stuck in little discord echo chambers or with only my family to keep up with

[cappurrccino]

the downfall of facebook is actually really annoying because it was a really nice place back in the day to keep in casual contact with old friends and acquaintances and family living across the country without needing to write everyone letters or emails or text them individually. things were chronological, you actually saw posts from your friends and not just ads, you could keep info private from everyone other than people you add as friends, and it was nice! and now it's like. what the fuck is the actual replacement for that? because I don't think there is one. it's just all the same ad-riddled shit

I hate facebook and I hate meta and I hate what it's all turned into, but I don't want to delete it because I don't want to lose all those casual connections that I would have no other way to maintain

[kmomof4]

Of Darkness, Vampires, and Soulmates Ch.5 Ingrid

*rubs furiously at my ear* Wow, y’all!!! Y'all had a lot to say about that last chapter, didn’t you? Well, most of the pain is now firmly in the rearview. There will still be a bit of pain in the coming chapters, but not like we’ve had. Today’s chapter brings us to the halfway point in the fic as well as the turning point, the modern era and putting our favorite couple on the final road to their Happily Ever After. We still have a lot of story to tell and I so hope you enjoy what’s coming! Thank you all so much for the trust you’ve placed in me by coming along on this journey! Y'all are the BEST!!!!

All of the love, thanks, and socially distant internet tackle hugs to @profdanglaisstuff for her outstanding beta services and being a fount of information and encouragement when I wanted to either throw my laptop, pull my hair out, or give up completely. Also to @hollyethecurious for her encouragement and help in brainstorming. The ladies of the CSSNS and CSMM discords for their encouragement, sprinting, and help with a title, and finally to @spartanguard for making such GORGEOUS and PERFECT art for EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER!!! I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so grateful that I got paired with you!!!

Chapter Summary: We are now in the modern era, and we meet a new family that has become a major part of Killian’s life.

Rating: M (Violence and smut)

Words: Almost 8800 of 41K total

Tags: Vampires, Soulmates, Reincarnation, Prophecy, Black Death, French Revolution, Magic, True Loves Kiss

Prologue | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ao3 chapter link | Ao3 fic link

Tag list: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @branlovestowrite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @nikkiemms​ @xsajx​ @klynn-stormz​

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts, October 1995

Killian Jones brought the Jolly Roger into his personal dock on his estate greatly anticipating a warm meal and long hot shower after being away for so many months. Of course he ate on the Jolly and she had been outfitted with modern plumbing that he kept most of the passengers away from, but nothing beat a homemade meal from his own kitchen. He had donned many hats over the centuries in terms of occupations, pirate captain, smuggler, whaler, blockade runner, a brief stint as a doctor in Chicago, and now pleasure cruise captain, and now that the long summer season was over, he could return to his home for a few months of rest and relaxation. The weather was just starting to turn cooler overall, but the sharp bite of the wind and clouds rolling in told him that a storm was right on his heels. He made his way up to the back door of the manor as his scarf was blown about his face and raindrops just started to fall.

“Thank you, Mr. Starkey,” he addressed the older man that had immediately appeared when he entered as he handed him his scarf and leather greatcoat.

“Your supper will be ready in about an hour, sir,” the man admitted, chagrined. “I wasn’t expecting you quite this early.”

“No worries, Starkey,” he replied, “we had favorable winds, and with the expected storm, I wanted to make it home before it hit. This will give me time to get the sea salt off me before I sit down to your excellent meal.”

The man before him smiled. “It’s your favorite, sir. I wanted to welcome you home properly. My lobster chowder with Red Lobster’s cheddar bay biscuits.”

Killian threw his head back and groaned in delight. “I can taste it already. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, sir.”

Killian departed the lower story, and headed for his chambers on the other side of his home trying to bring his salivating under control. He may have problems with fresh, raw garlic, but who could resist those biscuits?

~*~*~

Much later that night, Killian was pulled from his slumber by a crack of lightning that shook the windows and lit up his chambers as if it was noon. The rain against the windows beat a staccato rhythm that matched his breathing and heart rate. Once he got his breathing back under control and his pulse back down where it normally was, much, much less than a resting heart rate for a human, he became aware of a pull. A tugging sensation over his heart that almost felt like something was trying to rip it out his chest. Laying back down on his bed, the sensation lessened but didn’t go away entirely. As he lay there rubbing at the area, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest with a pressure, that if he didn’t know any better, he would have said resembled a heart attack. It was exactly the same sensation that he felt over 200 years ago when Emma had been born in France and when she had been born in the late 19th century.

Killian would never forget the day that he lost his Swan yet again. He recognized the soulmate connection and arrived in Chicago a few years later in 1896. He took a position with St. Luke's Hospital near the industrial center of the city where he knew his Swan was employed. One of the unfortunate victims of the lack of child labor laws and the Industrial Revolution. Close enough to feel her daily presence, but apparently not close enough to protect her. Rumplestiltskin, owner of the factory where she worked, brought her in covered in blood from where she had lost most of her left arm in an accident at the factory. Although his cruel designs were cleverly hidden behind his mask of feigned concern for the little girl in his arms, Killian could see the delight dancing in his enemy’s eyes as he lay Emma, only about six years old, even younger than he had known her at first in France, on the table in front of him. She had lost so much blood and was so nearly gone, that he was completely taken aback when her green eyes opened briefly, landing on him, and whispered, “It’s you.” before breathing her last. It was all he could do to remain upright. Did she somehow recognize him? Recognize their connection? No one questioned the blood tears that streaked his face, just assuming it was hers, as he ran from the room, Rumplestiltskin’s laughter echoing in his ears.

She had been reborn again. There was no doubt in his mind. But where? When she had been reborn in France, he had felt the pull toward Paris. In the 1890’s, Chicago. This time though, he wasn’t feeling any particular pull toward anywhere. Could it be too soon? Had she literally just been born? Was it possible that she could have been born somewhere nearby? He didn’t dare hope. Hopefully the morning light would bring some answers. Hopefully, he’d be able to get back to sleep before then.

~*~*~

He was awakened the next morning by Starkey knocking lightly on his chamber door. Killian awoke rather disconcerted that he had slept as late as the angle of the sun in his room told him it was, plus the fact that anyone approaching his chambers normally would have put his senses on full alert. Being caught unawares by Rumplestiltskin, even in the privacy of his own home, was not something he wanted happening.

“Enter,” he called, standing and wrapping himself in the robe from the bottom of the bed.

Starkey stuck his head through the door with mirth dancing in his eyes and a smile on his face. “The ladies Elsa and Anna Fisher are downstairs for you, sir. On the back patio. They are quite excited and impatient to see you.”

An affectionate grin broke over his face. “I’ll be down momentarily, Starkey.”

“Very good, sir,” he replied. “I’ll let them know.”

~*~*~

Killian entered the patio area just a few minutes later to the barely contained enthusiasm of two little girls that he had been blessed to know these last few years when they came into the care of their aunt, Ingrid Fisher, a very close personal friend of his for many, many years. The girls had been so young when they entered her charge, nearly one and just turned three, that they both knew her as Mama.

“Uncle Killian,” little Anna cried, “guess what?” She had very nearly flown from her place on the chaise lounge where she had been bouncing in her exuberance. She now stood before him nearly vibrating with excitement trying to contain the torrent of words that it was nearly killing her to hold back right now.

Killian knelt down before her and lifted her into his arms as he continued to where a much more sedate Elsa waited patiently for them on one of the other lounges. “What is it, my lamb?” He settled down next to Elsa and gave his full attention to the elated little girl in his arms.

“We have a new baby,” she very nearly squealed.

“AnewsisterMamacalledfromthehospitalthismorningtotellusthatababygirlhadbeenbornlastnightintheEmergencyRoombutthemamaleftsothebabyhasnoonetotakecareofhersowe’regonnatakecareofhershe’llbeoursister.” Anna’s words tumbled out of her so quickly that Killian had trouble keeping up. He looked toward Elsa with barely disguised confusion on his face.

Elsa released a long suffering sigh, as only a six year old could. “You have to slow down, Anna,” she exasperated. “Mama will be bringing home a new sister for us. She was born last night.” Killian couldn’t help the chill that ran down his spine at that information. “But the mama left before morning. Since Mama is already approved to be a foster parent, we get to have her.” At this, some of the excitement that Elsa usually kept inside, leaked through. Her blue eyes sparkled and the smile that broke over her face rivaled the sun at noon. “Mama said that we’ll adopt her and she’ll be our sister. She’ll have the same last name and everything!”

“Oh, my darlings,” he exulted, “that is indeed wonderful news!” He reached over and pulled Elsa to him in a side hug as Anna was doing her best to strangle him with the force of her embrace. “When will Ingrid be bringing her home and when may I come see the new addition to the family?”

“Mama said it would be a few days before she could bring her home,” Elsa volunteered, “so maybe this weekend.” She shrugged.

“Alright then,” he replied. “I will call this evening after your mama gets home and get some more details.” He stood back up with Anna still in his arms and started toward the kitchen. “And now, my lambs, have you had breakfast? Would you like some French toast? I know how you love Mr. Starkey’s French toast.”

The girl's squeals had nearly the same effect on the windows that the lightning had the night before. Killian laughed as he led them from the patio to the kitchen.

~*~*~

“Hello?”

“Good evening, Ingrid,” he replied, settling down in his favorite armchair, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

His friend’s delighted laugh made a grin break out on his own face. “I knew the girls wouldn’t be able to wait to tell you.”

“So, tell me everything.”

“A teenager, a girl really,” she corrected herself, “came in last night in the last stages of labor. Her daughter was born about three this morning. Right at the height of the storm, from what I understand.” Killian hummed and tried, without much success, to suppress the shiver that ran through him. “But by the time I got in this morning, she was gone. I don’t know how she was able to walk out of the ER so soon after giving birth. So there’s essentially no record of her whatsoever. She was too close to delivery to get any kind of information about her, and when one of the other nurses came in to get the information and move her and the baby to the maternity ward, she was gone. Leaving that poor baby girl behind.” She sighed.

“By the time I got there at 7, the whole place was in an uproar. I went up to the nursery to see her and just fell in love. With the mother gone and no idea of where to begin looking for her, that poor baby would go straight into the system. And I just couldn’t allow that. Not when I had the power to stop it.”

Killian hummed in agreement. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, lass. Tell me, this baby...” he hesitated. Ingrid was the closest friend he had ever had. She was one of two, in all his centuries of life, that ever knew exactly what he was. But she didn’t know about this. “This baby, have you decided on a name for her yet? She doesn’t by any chance have a birthmark on her neck, does she?” It was all he could do to keep his breathing steady as he awaited her answer.

“The girls and I discussed it and we decided she looks like an Emma. And yes, she does have a birthmark actually,” she exclaimed. Killian’s breath hitched. “How could you have possibly guessed that? It’s a swan that looks like it’s taking off. I’ve never seen anything like it. Anna thought ‘Swan’ should be her middle name. For the birthmark.”

Killian’s head spun. He gripped the sides of the chair, trying to regain some equilibrium. It was her. It was his Swan. How…? He couldn’t believe that it had happened again. He had, of course, been waiting for it, hoping, continuing on in the long lonely years of his life, praying, ever hopeful that this day would come. But now that it was here, it was all he could do to contain himself. He cleared his throat. “Emma Swan Fisher,” he whispered. “Uh, Ingrid? When will you be bringing her home?” he asked.

“Wednesday morning, barring any unforeseen complications, I should be able to bring her home,” Ingrid replied. “Killian, what’s going on?” Her concern for him was plain over the line. Killian scrubbed his face in his agitation.

“Ingrid, I promise,” he beseeched her, “I’ll explain everything. I’ll see you Wednesday. Give me a call when you get home.” He hung up and scrubbed his hand down his face again.

He made his way to the adjoining bath and splashed cold water on his face, trying to bring himself under control. He looked back up in the mirror. Haunted eyes in a pale face looked back out at him. Purple bruises under his eyes told him that he’d gone too long without the sustenance that his physical body still needed, even if he could still eat and drink. He was going to have to hunt tonight. Getting his hands on a rabbit or even a larger animal like a deer wasn’t going to cut it. Not after a shock like that rocked him to his very core.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to do it very often, he normally partook of animal blood to meet his body’s needs. And even that, he only had to do once, maybe twice a month. But when he was so obviously drained, as this bombshell had quite effectively accomplished, he was going to need human blood. Fortunately, the island had no shortage of scoundrels, villians, the bottom dwellers of humanity on which to feed, people that no one would miss, and in fact, their disappearance may very well free others on whom they preyed.

Donning black from head to toe, the vampire disappeared into the night.

~*~*~

Killian was unsurprised when he could see Anna’s red braids flying behind her as she ran to answer the door. Ingrid had brought baby Emma home that morning and he had told Ingrid to expect him around noon.

“Uncle Killian,” she cried, grabbing his hand and dragging him along behind her. “Come see my baby,” she exclaimed.

Killian chuckled as he picked her up and strode toward where he could hear the cries of an infant. “Where are they, my lamb?”

“In the breakfast room. Baby Emma doesn’t like the bottle Mama is trying to feed her,” she chattered on about how cute and how loud her baby was. Killian couldn’t help the delighted grin that stretched his lips as he came into the room. Ingrid sat at the table with the newborn in her arms, holding a small bottle to her mouth. Elsa stood by her side cooing to the baby and gently stroking her head trying to get her to take the bottle.

Ingrid lifted her face toward Killian as he set Anna down so that the little whirlwind could join her Mama and sisters. “Oh, Killian! Thank God, you’re here,” she exclaimed. “Could you take her for just a minute? I’m not ready for the girls to hold her by themselves yet and my bladder is about to bust.”

Killian was taken aback briefly, but made his way over to them and sat down. “Of course, Ingrid,” he assented, holding out his arms for the infant. As soon as Ingrid transferred the precious bundle into his own arms and handed him the bottle, she all but ran out of the room.

The girls gathered around him as he looked down at the baby. Wide light gray eyes stared, unblinking at him. He took in every detail he could. The way her little cheeks had yet to fill out to the pleasing plumpness that most associated with babies. The thin, whispy, light colored peach fuzz that covered the crown of her head. The scrunches around her eyes when she closed them as she opened her rosebud lips on a wide yawn. With her mouth as wide as that, he thought he might attempt to get her to take the bottle in his hand. Placing it in her mouth, she closed it again and began to drink from the instrument of nourishment. Her eyes opened again and she continued to stare at him as she drank from the bottle.

A smile broke his face as a profound sense of destiny swept over him. This was his Swan. Beyond any doubt. He could see the birthmark on her neck. He could feel the connection between them buzzing under his skin and with every beat of his heart as he held her close. Perhaps that was why she was taking the bottle from him so easily when she didn’t want to take it from Ingrid. Love like he had never known filled him near to overflowing. A love that he had harbored for over 300 years. Holding his soulmate in his arms like this, made him realize one thing. He would do anything to protect her. And since he found her so early in her life this time, he’d be able to protect her the way he wanted to. The way he should have done all those times before. He would do anything to make sure that she had the chance to grow up and fulfill her destiny. Her prophesied destiny to join him in the destruction of the Darkness and the final downfall of Rumplestiltskin. This time, he would succeed. This time, she would be his. He couldn’t lose her again. And then, a small smile broke over his face, they’d live happily ever after.

He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Rumplestiltskin in a century. Not since the last time that Emma had lived, in the late nineteenth century. As much as he rejoiced that the demon had left him alone for so long, it was rather disconcerting. Before Emma died in France, he would make his presence known about every decade or so. Since then, it had been spaced out further, finally terminating when Killian had lost Emma back in Chicago. Again at the hands of his sire. This was by far however, the longest that he had gone without being aware of his presence. Now that Emma had come into his life again, he would doubtless make an appearance. He’d have to be doubly vigilant in keeping her safe from the monster if he hoped to bring his dream to fruition. And now, he was going to have to tell Ingrid everything.

~*~*~

All three of the girls were finally down for naps when Killian and Ingrid settled down in the living room with some hot tea. Ingrid leveled a hard stare at him sending him scratching at the area behind his ear.

“Ok, Killian. What’s going on here?” The love and concern were written all over her face.

Killian couldn’t meet her eyes as he began. “There is only one person that I’ve spoken to about this, Ingrid,” he sighed. “And I honestly never expected to have to do this with you.” He raised his head until his eyes met hers. “You are the closest friend I’ve ever had. You know what I am. You know what I care about, my values, and my convictions. How I live this cursed life.”

“And it’s because I know you so well,” she interrupted, leaning over to him and placing her hand on his arm, “that I’ve never been afraid of you. Both to have you in my life for all of these years and the lives of the girls.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that, lass.” He looked down at where she was touching him with a soft smile.

“Pfft,” she snorted, leaning back in her chair and waving away his sentiment, “Don’t call me lass. I’m a little too old for that these days.”

He smirked at her. “You’ll always be a lass, compared to me, love,” he teased her, earning him a mighty eye roll.

Twenty-seven years ago, he met Ingrid, quite literally by accident. An accident that had claimed both her parents, and nearly claimed herself as well. When Killian got himself out of his car, with his broken bones and cuts quickly healing, he could plainly see that there was nothing he could do to help the two adults in the front of the Oldsmobile that had broadsided him. The two girls in the back however, were both still alive, although the older one was in immediate need of medical attention. As he moved closer to her, he could hear the rush of her blood within her, not in its appointed channels. She was bleeding internally and would almost surely die before she could be transported to a hospital. The other girl, probably about five years her junior, was only unconscious. He moved to the side of the gravely injured child, and sneaking a glance around to be sure that no one in the gathering crowd was paying attention to him, bit into his wrist and held it up to the girl’s lips, letting just a few drops of his blood land on her tongue. The coppery taste was enough to rouse her. Unfortunately, sharing his blood with her would not only heal her, but also expose him for what he truly was. Her eyes widened in her shock.

“Who are you?” she asked, obviously fearful that a strange man with red eyes and fangs was standing over her.

“A friend,” he answered, as his wound healed and his eyes resumed their blue hue and his fangs retracted. Listening carefully, he could hear not only the sirens of ambulances in the distance, but he could also hear the healing going on in her body. “You’ve been in an accident.” He didn’t think it wise to tell her about her parents.

Her eyes widened even more. “What about Mama, Papa, Gerta?” she cried, looking toward her sister.

“Your sister is going to be fine, lass,” he said, comfortingly. “What’s your name?”

“Ingrid,” she replied. “Ingrid Fisher.”

“Your sister is going to be fine, Ingrid. And so will you.” He moved away from her side as the paramedics arrived. He waved them off from attending to him, as only a few scratches were now visible. The girls needed their attention much more than he did.

He had been able to keep in contact with her, and because she quite vividly remembered his healing of her, he wasn't terribly surprised when the, by then, young teen, figured out his secret.

Killian returned to the present and to the amused concern still flooding Ingrid’s eyes. He gave her a small smile before taking a deep breath and beginning his story, from the beginning.

~*~*~

Ingrid’s mouth hung open as she leaned back on the sofa. “Soooo, let me get this straight,” she mused, “Rumplestiltskin, as in the fairy tale Rumplestiltskin, was real. Is real,” she corrected herself, shaking her head. “And that baby, from the fairy tale, was your brother. Fast forward, he kills Liam and changes you, and since then he’s come back every so often and has been responsible for at least two of…” here she trailed away momentarily, obviously trying to get her mind around all he had revealed to her, “my Emma’s past deaths. Ok.” She nodded decisively. “I can handle this.” She turned her pale blue eyes to his. “But she is your soulmate. And the two of you are prophesied to destroy the Darkness? The Darkness that makes you a vampire? But what will happen to you?”

Killian shrugged his shoulders. “If it’s the Darkness that makes me a vampire, as I believe it is, I’m hopeful that I’ll no longer be a vampire and that I’ll be able to live out my life with Emma at my side.”

“Oh, Killian,” she breathed, “That would be wonderful, indeed.”

“So you raise her,” Killian asserted, looking at her again. “You adopt her and raise her as your own. As long as that monster stays away, you will all be safe. But when he comes, and I say when because it’s only a matter of time, you will have to leave.” He looked down at the clasped hands in his lap. “And you won’t be able to tell me where you go. He would be able to find you through my knowledge. And he won’t hesitate to kill you all to prevent my happy ending with Emma. When the time is right, you’ll come back, and I’ll be able to court her and protect you all myself. This time,” his voice shook in his conviction, “we will succeed.”

She covered his hands with her own. “You will, Killian. I have no doubt.”

~*~*~

Three and a half years later, Boston

Rumplestiltskin stood on the quay looking up at the ship that he hadn’t seen with his own eyes in over four hundred years. It looked exactly the same from where he stood. The wood of the hull was in pristine condition, freshly painted, nearly ageless. If he didn’t know for sure that it was the same ship, he’d have trouble believing it himself. Still as majestic as I remember.

Rumple ducked his head into his shoulder as the captain appeared at the gunwale of the ship. He wasn’t yet ready to reveal his presence to his progeny.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, lads and lasses,” the captain called out. “Welcome to Jolly Roger Tours! I am your captain, Killian Jones. Today we will be sailing into the waters of the Atlantic, hearing tales of Blackbeard and Captain Kidd, and visiting several barrier islands where they and several other of the most notorious pirates from the Golden Age of Piracy lurked before striking the merchant ships coming into Boston Harbor. We will end our tour in Salem with a visit to the New England Pirate Museum where you will see actual pirate treasure and be able to tour a Colonial seaport before returning home. Now once you are aboard, everyone under the age of twelve will become junior crew members. They will be outfitted in pirate gear and will be in the charge of one of my crew for the duration of the tour.”

The captain then turned a stern eye on the very excited children of the group. “Now let me tell you how it works on my ship. I give the orders and you follow them. Is that clear?” The children let out a collective YESSS, that was so loud, he was sure he wasn't the only adult with the beginnings of a headache. “Then welcome aboard, me hearties!”

The children climbing the gangplank resembled a flock of birds, moving as one, with the combined weight of a small elephant, which did nothing to make the headache dissipate. Perhaps it was a mistake to make his appearance here and now.  But the time had come again. Time to remind Killian Jones who had the power in their centuries-long dance.

He hung back until he was at the end of the queue ascending the gangplank. As he neared the captain, who was personally welcoming each passenger aboard, he decided to go ahead and make his presence known to his host.

~*~*~

Killian was nearly to the end of the queue when a depraved giggle reached his ears and a bolt of fear traveled down his spine. Looking toward the last person in the line, his eyes widened as he took in the distinctive profile of his sire. Thankfully, his eyes were averted, so he was in no danger of revealing anything to the demon, but he could see the curve of a sinister grin sliding onto his features.

“What are you doing here,” he hissed.

“Why, Captain Jones,” he gasped, in mock outrage, placing his hand on his heart “no joyous welcome? No, ‘It’s good to see you, mate.’”

“No,” he deadpanned, crossing his arms across his chest. “As Captain of this ship, I have the right to refuse to let anyone on board. For any reason.”

“Oh, really?” he drawled, feigning surprise. “Are you going to let me board, Captain?”

“No, I am not,” he replied. “Get off of my ship. And don’t let me see your face anywhere near her again.”

Rumplestiltskin giggled again. “Oh, don’t you worry, Dearie,” he crooned, before his voice took on an edge of malice, and was that anticipation that he could detect in his words? “Showing my face near your ship will be the least of your worries in the near future.”

Dear God in heaven, Killian thought, he knows where Emma is. “Get off of my ship.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” he murmured, with a mocking bow, sarcasm oozing from his words. “Until we meet again.”

Killian watched as Rumplestiltskin meandered down the gangplank, his gold tipped cane clicking on the boards, before he disappeared into the crowds.

~*~*~

Killian brought the Jolly in to dock behind his estate, his shoulders dropping in relief when he saw the four people he loved most in this world waiting for him. He’d been acutely aware, all day long, that if his sire knew about the family and where to find them, he could have already struck.

Anna, predictably, bounced on the balls of her feet, all ready for her adventure. Ingrid and Elsa were doing an admirable job keeping their countenance free of the fear he could plainly see in their eyes. Little Emma dozed on her mother’s shoulder. It was past her bedtime.

He descended the gangplank and grabbed their various suitcases and baby paraphernalia before he started hauling them aboard as Anna peppered him with questions. “Where are we going, Uncle Killian? Is it a pirate adventure? Is that why we’re leaving at night? Are we gonna spend the night in a pirate cave? Do we get to hunt for buried treasure?” Killian chuckled at her enthusiasm as he deposited their luggage on the deck .

“No, my lamb,” he sighed, “You’ll be going on an adventure with your mother and sisters this time. I’m not coming. I’m simply taking you there.”

“But, why aren’t you coming?” she whined, looking up at him with her big blue eyes.

Killian knelt down in front of her. From Elsa’s expression, Ingrid had either told her what was going on, or she picked up on her mother’s apprehension. Elsa stepped forward next to her sister, fixing him with her stare.

“Where are we going, Uncle Killian?” she asked. “All Mama told us was that we needed to pack our suitcases and that we could bring only two favorite toys and two books.”

“I didn’t know what to tell them, Killian,” Ingrid lamented. Killian smiled gently at her, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He knew this day would come, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with now that it was here.

Before the ship had even cast off for the Pirate Tour that morning from Boston harbor, he had texted Ingrid to tell her that it was go time. He’d told her when he’d be home that evening and that she and the girls were to meet him at the dock. He would take them to Boston, and they could disappear to anywhere in the world, ensuring their safety from Rumplestiltskin. Shortly after he had revealed everything to her when Emma was just a newborn, he had made financial arrangements for the family in anticipation of this day. A secure offshore bank account in Ingrid’s name would meet all their needs for many, many years to come.

“I’m taking you to Boston, my lambs,” Killian began. “And from there your Mama will be your captain. She’ll be telling you where you’re going and how you’re going to get there.” He smiled at them. “You might be getting on another ship, you might be getting on an airplane, you might be getting on a train or a bus. This is going to be a most excellent adventure. But for now, we must cast off. We’ll be in Boston in no time.” He rose from before them as Ingrid returned from his quarters after settling Emma in bed down below. “Ingrid, take the helm while I weigh anchor,” he ordered. “Girls, go below with Emma.”

Everyone scrambled to obey his orders as he moved to the capstan. The enchantment that the Blue Fairy had placed on the wood of the Jolly all those years ago, still held and enabled him to lift the 112lb anchor himself. Once finished, he joined Ingrid at the helm.

He placed his arm around her shoulders as she finally lost the battle with the tears she’d been holding back. He murmured comfort into the crown of her head as she sobbed into his chest.

“How am I supposed to leave you, Killian?” she cried. “You’ve been with me for most of my life! I’ve always been able to count on you!”

“And you will again, love,” he cajoled. “This is only temporary. As soon as Emma is old enough for me to court, you’ll come back and we’ll be together again.”

She raised her tear stained face up to his. “But, Killian,” she protested, “that’s fifteen years away! How am I supposed to not contact you for that long?”

He turned to her and held her gaze with his own. “Ingrid, I have never met, in all my years of life, a woman as strong as you. Losing your parents when you did, fighting for Gerta not to be separated from you while you were growing up in the system, losing her and Agnar so soon after Anna was born, raising these three girls all by yourself, accepting me into your lives so easily, Ingrid, that takes a tremendous amount of bravery and fortitude,” he asserted. “You will be fine. And so will those girls. Rumplestiltskin will not be able to find you and they will grow up safe, happy, and together. That is all that matters right now.”

Ingrid sniffled again. “I know,” she sighed, “I’m just gonna miss you so much.”

“And I’ll miss you all, too. So much,” he murmured, placing a kiss to her brow.  “Now you go below and be with your girls. We’ll be to Boston in about an hour.” He released her and she made her way below.

~*~*~

Killian entered his quarters after docking in Boston. On his bed, Emma was sound asleep, while at the foot, Ingrid read quietly to Anna and Elsa on either side of her. His heart nearly broke at the sight. He had to be strong for them. This was for their safety. This is what was best, for all of them.

Ingrid looked up at him as he drew near the little family. “We’re here, my lambs,” he choked out. Anna and Elsa looked up at him. Anna jumped to her feet on top of the bed and placed both her hands on his cheeks.

“Don’t be sad, Uncle Killian,” she said, “I’ll write letters to you every week telling you all about our adventures.”

Killian shook his head as he took her little hands in his own. “No, my darling,” he insisted, “You will not be able to write letters to me. You mustn’t contact me at all. Not until Emma is all grown up. When she is, you’ll all be able to come back to me and we can be together again. Is that okay?” He cocked his head toward her as he awaited her answer. When her brow furrowed without one, he continued. “I have to keep you safe, my lamb. And this is the only way to do it. That’s why we have to do this. Why we have to be apart for a little while. When the danger is past, we can be together again.”

The furrow remained on her brow as she raised her eyes to his. “Okay, Uncle Killian.” She nodded decisively. “But I’ll miss you.”

“And I will miss you, my lamb,” he promised, gathering her in his arms. He held his other arm out for Elsa as she launched herself toward him, sobs choking her. Killian closed his eyes as he held these little girls that he loved so much in his arms. After a few minutes, he carried them to the hatch and placed them on the ladder to the deck. They scrambled up as Ingrid came toward him, carrying Emma, still sound asleep.

Killian took her precious cargo so she could climb the ladder then followed along behind her. Reaching the deck, he saw that Ingrid already had Emma’s stroller opened up and he could lay her right down in it. He turned and pressed a kiss into her brow. “I love you, my Swan. I will see you again,” he murmured, setting her down and arranging her so that she could sleep peacefully until she had to awaken. He picked up his end of the stroller as Ingrid grabbed the handle and her own suitcase and carried the stroller containing the sleeping toddler across the deck and down the gangplank. Anna and Elsa followed behind with their own suitcases. Finally depositing the stroller on the quay, he turned back toward them. Kneeling down and opening his arms to them, they ran and nearly knocked him over with the force of their hugs.

“We love you, Uncle Killian,” they cried.

“And I love you, my lambs,” he replied. “Never forget that. We’ll be together again soon. I promise.” He disentangled himself and turned to Ingrid once more.

He gathered her in his arms, whispering endearments into her hair. “It’s okay, Ingrid,” he murmured, “I love you. You can do this. I’ll see you again.”

“I love you too, Killian,” she echoed. “And yes, we’ll see you again.” She pulled back, out of his arms and turned to the girls. “Make sure you have everything. Anna, hand on the stroller.” The tears were gone from her voice, her head held high and her back straight as her brood gathered their suitcases. There was his strong lass. Pride and love for her filled his heart to overflowing. She grabbed her own suitcase and pushing the stroller before her, made her way toward the street without looking back.

“Until we meet again, my loves,” Killian murmured before ascending the gangplank once more to make the journey home.

~*~*~

It was nearly midnight when Killian arrived home that evening. He didn’t expect Starkey to meet him at the door at this hour, but he also didn’t expect to find him being held by Rumplestiltskin in the middle of the morning room, much like the monster had held his brother four hundred years before.

The terror in Starkey’s eyes brought him to a halt. “Welcome home,” the demon singsonged, eyes seeking his own from over his captive’s shoulder, not loosening his grip a single iota.

“What are you doing here,” he growled, anger flowing through him as he advanced on the imp. He wasn’t frozen this time and he wondered if it was possible that the devil had forgotten to do it, or if he had some other plan for him.

“Why must you always insist on asking questions that you already know the answer to,” the monster demanded, giggling. The giggle was suddenly cut off as if with a knife. “I want to know where she is.” His words were slow, deliberate. Carefully enunciated so that Killian knew exactly to whom he was referring.

Righteous anger at this breach of his sanctuary and threatened murder of someone under his protection flooded him. Killian met the eyes of his sire with his own, knowing that Rumple would see nothing of value when their gazes locked. “Who?” he asked.

“Do you really think that now is a good time to antagonize me,” the creature hissed. Killian couldn’t help the little thrill of triumph that skittered across his skin at his opponent’s obvious anger. Looking more closely at his nemesis, his eyes widened as he became aware of something that, he was sure, the imp intended to keep hidden.

Rumplestiltskin was nervous. All of these centuries, he had always held the upper hand. It was why he would always come back. Taunting him, manipulating him, reminding him who held the power. Until now. It hadn’t occurred to his sire that he’d be able to throw off the yoke of oppression that had kept him exactly where the devil had wanted him all these years. The plans and provisions that had been made, long before they were needed, had finally given Killian the upper hand, and the beast was thoroughly rattled by that.

As this realization came over him, pictures that he knew came from his enemy flooded his mind. A wicked looking dagger with Rumplestiltskin’s name on the blade held in the hand of the Blue Fairy. Knowledge that it had the power to kill the monster before him and of where to find it. Killian’s eyes skittered to where his sire’s gold tipped cane lay forgotten on the floor.

With an inhuman howl of rage, Rumplestiltskin threw Starkey to the side like a rag doll. The sickening crack of his skull on the marble floor echoed through the room, but Killian couldn’t do anything about that now. Not with this animal racing to attack.

Killian met this scourge on his entire existence halfway. Blood red eyes shone, exposed fangs glinted in the bright artificial light coming from the kitchen, as Killian crouched and drove his shoulder directly into the rabid creature's abdomen. He flipped over Killian’s shoulder and crashed through the floor to ceiling window behind him, landing flat on his back, briefly knocking the breath out of him.

As Killian came to stand over him, he could see Rumplestiltskin’s face twist in pure malevolence as he struggled to catch his breath. He placed his boot right over his solar plexus and ground down. Only his age as a vampire could explain how quickly he was able to overcome his vulnerability. He screamed in malice, the pitch of his voice rising to the point where Killian nearly stepped away in order to cover his ears. “HOW CAN YOU SEE THAT? NO ONE KNOWS THAT! I WANT HER! WHY CAN’T I SEE HER? TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!”

Killian lifted his enemy from the ground, grabbing the top of his head. He pulled as hard as he could, forcing his head back as he hissed in the cursed creature's ear. “I don’t know where she is and you are never going to find her. We are going to defeat you, Rumplestiltskin. I swore that I would destroy you, and when my love comes back to me, we will find you and fulfill that oath.” Holding the monster tightly in his arms, Killian dove in, piercing his sire’s flesh with his fangs. Blood flooded his mouth as he drank deeply. This time, he was able to shield his mind so that all his attention, all his concentration was focused on the blood. There was nothing else. Nothing to fear giving away and nothing to fear receiving from the evil creature. Rumplestiltskin continued to scream and struggle against him, but it was no use. He grew weaker and weaker as Killian continued to feed.

In a last, desperate attempt to free himself from Killian’s iron embrace, the devil was actually able to free one of its arms and reach for the back of his head. Killian took the opportunity to tear open the monster’s neck, blood spraying everywhere, exposing muscle, tendon, and sinew. The arm fell lifeless to his side and the demon was finally still.

Killian held no illusions that he was actually dead. He could already see the wounds he inflicted stitching together. He knew he had only a few minutes to save Starkey, if he wasn’t already dead, and get Rumplestiltskin out of his home. He dropped the animal at his feet and made his way to where Starkey lay, motionless. He breathed a sigh of relief when he could discern a faint heartbeat and a shallow breath. Piercing his own wrist with his fangs, he held it to Starkey’s lips and let just a few drops land on his tongue. Now confident that his butler would be fine, he turned back to where he had left Rumplestiltskin.

The Blue Fairy stood over the still unconscious creature. Killian’s eyes widened in surprise, then anger.

“What are you doing here?” he shouted, advancing on her. She gave no sign that she had heard him. In the face of her silence, he couldn’t help but ask the question that had plagued him for centuries. “Where have you been all these years?”

The fairy raised her face to his, sorrow swirling in the depths of her brown eyes. “There is no time to answer the many questions and righteous anger that you have right now. They can wait until after I’ve dealt with,” a sneer crossed her features as she looked down at the imp, “this.” The fairy waved her wand over the still motionless creature. He was enveloped in a cloud of blue smoke and disappeared.

Killian was startled. “Where did he go?” he asked, “Where did you send him?”

“Somewhere far from here,” the fairy answered. “Now,” she continued, looking toward him again and squaring her shoulders, “I am at your disposal.” Killian stood staring at the fairy, stunned speechless. The stuttering inhale, determined tilt of her chin, and ramrod straight posture told him that she truly was ready to face whatever questions that he had for her. He ushered her back into the kitchen and prepared them both some tea.

“Why now?” he asked, laying out the tea and sitting next to her at the table. “Where have you been all these years?” That had to be first. He had to know why she had failed so completely in her sworn protection of his family.

The Blue Fairy bowed her head in shame. “When your father sent you and Liam to negotiate that treaty, he was acting on the information that I gave him. Rumplestiltskin was, by that time, a master at manipulating magic and he appeared to be gathering his forces in order to make good his threat upon your family. Your father wanted you both to be safe, so he sent you away. I learned too late that it was nothing more than a diversion. By that time, Liam was already dead and you had disappeared.”

She looked up at his face, obviously trying to gauge how he was taking this information. He refused to let her off the hook. He already knew all this, he wanted to know about the intervening centuries. “I, of course, knew exactly where you were and what had happened to you.” Her eyes turned pleading, filling with tears. “You have to understand. Please, I was Fairy Godmother to your family for generations. I knew your father’s great-grandfather. I have loved your family for centuries before you were even born. I… I couldn’t face your father and mother. I couldn’t be the one to tell them what had happened to you. What had happened to you both.” She bowed her head again. “I was a coward. I failed in my oath, and then I abandoned my family. My duty. Since then, I’ve tried to make it right. I have watched over you, protected and prospered you.”

Killian couldn’t help but snort. “Protected me? You call letting Rumplestiltskin nearly sink the Jolly, multiple times due to magical storms, protecting me?”

She gave him an unamused eyebrow raise. “No, I call keeping you from falling overboard during those storms protecting you. And keeping the Black Death away from you, both while you were in London, and when it was unleashed on your ship. Those are some of the ways I protected you over the years. You may be a vampire, but you are still subject to some of the frailties of your human body.”

“I see,” he replied. His fury drained away, becoming compassion. He took a deep breath and turned gentle eyes on her. “I understand. If I had been in your position…” he trailed away, “I don’t think I’d have done much differently.”

“Thank you,” she said, sincerely.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “Why now?” He repeated his question from earlier. “Why show yourself now? If you’ve been watching and protecting me all these years, why are you now letting me know that?”

The Blue Fairy fixed him with a fierce stare. “Because you are correct in saying that this time, you and Emma will succeed. Rumplestiltskin and the Darkness have served their purpose in history and their time is rapidly coming to an end. It is your time now. Your’s and your soulmate’s.”

Understanding dawned on Killian. “It was you,” he breathed, “You wrote the prophecy.” The fairy nodded. “You made Emma my soulmate. You’ve brought us together all these times.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “And each time I brought you together, Rumplestiltskin has managed to work circumstances in his own favor and ensure that you and your soulmate were never able to fulfill the prophecy. This time, however, you have been able to do the same. This time is your time. Live your life in peace until Emma returns to you. Once she does, the clock will begin ticking. Rumplestiltskin will also return and you will have to face him. The visions you had revealed the way to defeat him.”

Killian startled. “What? How do you know about that?”

She laughed. “I was the one who gave them to you, Killian,” she exclaimed. “I made that dagger when Rumplestiltskin became a vampire in order to destroy him and the Darkness forever. When I was unable to accomplish that back then, he enchanted the dagger so that I can’t even touch it. But you, or your soulmate, can. Use the knowledge I’ve given you. It will serve you well.”

“Can you tell me anything about Emma,” he begged. “Why her? What makes her my soulmate? Does she know? Has she ever known? Will she know?”

“True Love’s magic,” the fairy answered, “You were both created out of True Love. True Love that has carried down through the centuries. That is what made her FOR you. To answer your question ‘has she known’, she has felt the connection with you in the past. Not as strongly as you. Your senses are enhanced because of what you are. But she has not recognized it for what it truly was. Except that time in Chicago. She was so close to death, that she did recognize your connection. This time, when she returns, she will again. The True Love that you will hold together will destroy the Darkness forever.”

Killian’s eyes widened at the revelation that he was also created out of True Love. He knew that Emma was. He had seen it first hand in David and Mary Margaret. And while he knew that his parents loved each other deeply, hearing from the fairy’s own lips that they were also True Love, made Killian’s heart soar. “What about now? Is she safe?” he worried.

“Know that Emma and her family are safe, and will continue to be. She will return and the path forward will be laid before you.” Killian sat back, lost in thought, mind swirling with all the revelations of the night. The fairy was silent for a few minutes before she cleared her throat and stood from the table. “And now, I must bid you farewell, Killian Jones.”

Killian was brought back to the kitchen and company before him. “Thank you,” he breathed, sincerely, “I won’t waste the knowledge or opportunity you’ve blessed me with.” Nodding, she waved her wand, shrinking down to the size of his hand and disappeared into the night.

Turning back toward Starkey, Killian was gratified that his heart rate and breathing were steady. He picked the man up easily and carried him toward his own apartments a little further down the wing. He knew that come morning, he was going to have a lot of explaining to do. But as he refused to exercise his powers of persuasion or compulsion on his faithful servant of many years, there was no other way around it. After making sure he was comfortable in his own bed, he climbed the stairs to his own chambers.

Laying down on his own bed, Killian finally allowed the emotion of the day to wash over him. What had started out as any other day became one of the worst and then one of the best of his long, long life. He had answers. Emma and her family were safe. He was assured that he would see her again. He’d been patient before, he could do it again.

With a smile on his lips, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~*~*~

See? Happy right? Thanks for reading and sharing!