#like yeah there was neverland but emma still saw killian as a pirate who was probably just flirting with her for fun

[mccallhero]

favourite ouat scenes: 11/?

[donteattheappleshook]

Not Broken At All Chapter 9/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated M

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Thank you thank you thank you thank you always @the-darkdragonfly ​ and @elizabeethan for your help with this feral fic 😘

And thank you everyone for the reblogs, comments and replies that give me so much dopamine ❤️

*****

Part 9

“Oh, good, you found it,” Wendy smiles when Emma walks through the door of the guest cabin. 

“Yeah.” She won’t mention that this is the third room she tried - one of which contained a very put out Will Scarlet, obviously not fooled by her disguise, who glared at her until she baked out slowly. “This is the bosun’s room, not yours. And not mine anymore either I s’pose,” he spat. But his fight is with Killian, not with her - she hopes. 

“We don’t usually have guests on the Jolly. Not apart from… well, you know.” Emma assumes she means the girls that are smuggled off the island. Maybe guests isn’t the right word.

“I saw Will,” she changes the subject. “He seemed, um, not happy.”

Wendy sighs, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure he’s not. Probably just pouting about having to go back to the crew’s quarters now that there’s been a bit of a regime change.” 

“I don’t want to put anyone out. I can stay with the crew -”

“Absolutely not,” she cuts her off. “Will’s a grownup and he can suck it up. He’s just pissed that Killian’s back. You’re our guest. Besides, we don’t want the others to get suspicious. Pirates are terrible at keeping their mouths shut, but they have short memories so they’ve probably already forgotten about you. We’ll pass you off as a new former lost boy. It’s not uncommon for one to join after a battle like today.” 

“A battle?” 

She nods. “Before you arrived tonight. There were thirty of us this morning, more pirates than there were lost boys. Pan felt the need to thin out the herd, even the odds.” 

Emma feels sick. She saw the way they all stood on the deck, bloody and exhausted - on the tail end of a massacre. She can’t blame Wendy for how dismissively she speaks of it. She imagines that after a while you would stop getting attached to anyone on board. Maybe that’s why she’s so determined to ignore Will’s feelings for her. 

“There should be more coming soon,” Wendy continues. “Not sure when exactly, but some of the boys are getting too old to keep playing games with him. It was hard to tell a few apart from the crew.” Emma thinks of the teenager she’d fought earlier and wonders how long it’s been since he was on the other side of the battle, trying to slay the men who would become his crew. 

“I’m sorry, you must be exhausted,” she says then, turning back to what she’d been doing when Emma arrived, setting pillows on the bed. “I remember my journey here - and you’ve been on the wrong end of sirens and pirates already.” She gives her a sympathetic and knowing little smile. 

“Yeah, can’t say I’m looking forward to dealing with them tomorrow - what with the whole wanting to drown and eat us thing.” 

Wendy’s brows shoot up. “You’re going with him? I didn’t think he’d let you.” 

“I made him.” 

Her expression turns impressed. “Good for you. He must like you.” 

She lets out a laugh. “He definitely doesn’t. I… betrayed him, in my realm,” Emma admits, ashamed. “I don’t think he’ll ever trust me again.” 

“Don’t underestimate him. I’m sure you had your reasons. And if you convinced him to let you come with him to face the Lorelei, then I think at the very least you may have earned his respect. Just know that you should be prepared to lose something dear to you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Ianeira won’t join us out of the goodness of her cold, fishy heart - no matter how enamoured she may be with Hook. She’ll want something.” 

“I didn’t bring anything with me.”

Wendy shakes her head. “The Lorelei don’t deal in material possessions.” 

Emma doesn’t understand. What else could she give them? But the somberness of Wendy’s warning makes her worry. “Killian shouldn’t have to go. He’s given up enough to bring me here. I can go to them on my own if you tell me where -”

“He’d never let you. Neither would I. Nobody should deal with them without Hook there to soothe Ianeira’s temper. Just be sure she doesn’t see you together.” 

“Because I’m a woman,” Emma nods. “Killian told me she was jealous.” 

“Because of the way he is around you,” Wendy corrects. 

“What? Annoyed?” 

The other woman considers her carefully, but doesn’t answer. “Just be careful.” She smiles then, changing the mood intentionally. “Besides, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I quite like having another woman on board.” Emma smiles back, though more hesitantly, her last comment still hanging between them. “Beats living with all these pouty, overgrown boys. Speaking of which, I should probably go deal with Scarlet. And kick him out of my room.” 

“Right.” Emma wonders if she will. 

“Oh, could you bring this to Hook? Would you mind?” She hands Emma a glass pitcher, the contents clear but swirling in a way that has nothing to do with Wendy's movements, as if they adhere to their own pull and rules. “It's water from the spring. For his wounds,” she explains and Emma’s eyes go wide. 

“The spring? But I thought -” 

“It won’t trap him here, not without drinking it, not without life-threatening injuries. And we only resort to that when we need to bring someone back from the brink of death.” Emma feels sympathy for the woman, trapped here for eternity or until Pan tires of her. “But it can be used as a balm.” 

She thinks back to Wendy’s words from before. “Making Neverland’s magic work for you?” 

Wendy smiles. “Exactly.” 

“Sure,” she agrees, taking the pitcher. She could do with an olive branch, as many as she can get. Following her out into the narrow hallway, Emma looks between the row of doors for a moment until Wendy points her in the right direction. You’ll get used to it. Something about this ship can skew your sense of direction. 

She hears a gruff ‘aye’ when she knocks on Killian’s door, nudging it open carefully, feeling strange about walking into his room despite the fact that she was in here ten minutes ago. She blinks when she finds him standing by his desk, peeling his shirt from his shoulders with a pained wince. The bruises are darker now, almost black - and angry. Emma thinks she owes Will a good kick to the ribs for that. 

“Oh,” he says when he sees it’s her. Clearly she wasn’t who she was expecting.

“Wendy sent me. She asked me to bring you this,” she explains clumsily, unable to draw her gaze away from the wreckage that is his skin. “Are you okay?” she asks, quietly, not meaning to, but god that looks painful. She shouldn’t have made him do this. She knew he was injured. He should still be in bed. He should be in a hospital.

“I’ve had worse,” he promises, drawing her attention away from his abused body. His words are almost comforting, which is ridiculous considering he’s the one who was beaten mercilessly more than once. Killian takes the pitcher with a ‘thank you’ and sets it on the desk. She needs to do something. She can’t just leave him like this, grimacing as he rips a shirt into strips.

“Can I help?”

He looks surprised first, hesitant, but then nods. “Aye. I don’t think I could manage to reach…” he starts, attempting to twist towards his back and wincing again. It’s not missed on her part, how much it means for him to accept her help. He’d reluctantly let her help him in the hospital, but that was when he trusted her. “I need to make a wrap,” he explains, the strips of cloth still in his hands. “The rest will heal on its own.”

Emma takes the makeshift bandages from him, trying to ignore the way he watches her. “Do I just like, dunk them in?” 

He nods she submerges the strips one at a time, careful not to let the water overflow, not wanting to waste any, wringing them out and setting them on the desk. When they’re all soaked through, she picks up the first, turning back to him. Emma reaches out, waiting until he bows his head in permission before pressing the cloth to the centre of his ribs. 

He hisses and she jumps back. “I’m sorry!”

Killian shakes his head. “They’re just cold,” he breathes out.

“Don’t do that,” she scolds, heart still racing and his mouth wobbles in amusement. 

“Sorry.”

 She reaches for him again, appreciating the way he stays still and quiet this time as she gently lays the cloth on his skin. 

“Can you hold that?” He puts his hand over the bandage, half of it covering her own and she swallows. “Great.” 

Winding her way around to his back, she stops, taking in the damage. There’s less bruising here but there are gashes, healing but raw. Whatever he’d been struck with had broken skin or he’d been cut by something sharp. Beneath them, his skin is a map of scars, different sizes and lengths, some older, nearly faded, others newer, still shining slightly. 

She reaches up, touches one unwittingly, a particularly angry mark that slashes diagonally across his shoulder blades. “Did Pan do all this?” 

Emma’s surprised when he answers. “Some. Others are from another life long ago.” 

It’s the first time she realizes he must have had a life before coming to Neverland. Two hundred years is a very long time, but for the first thirty years of his life at least, he must have been somewhere else, must have been someone else. 

She comes back around his side, slipping the bandage under his arm and then across his front, joining it to the other end. “Hold this,” she instructs and he lets her tuck the fabric under his fingers. She repeats the process, layering the strips over one another, careful not to press against the bruises, circling him to make sure the water touches every inch of his ribs, tying the last one off as best she can. 

Killian breathes a sigh of relief when she finishes, resting a hand lightly over the wrap. “Thank you. It should be better by morning.” 

Morning? 

Oh, right. Magic. 

“Would it work on your cuts too?” she asks, thinking of the marks on his face and those on his back and arms. 

“I’m fine,” he promises and Emma sighs, annoyed. 

“Just let me help you, okay? I dragged you back here, the least I can do is try make it less painful than it’s already gonna be.” He considers her for a long moment, perhaps weighing her sincerity or whether to trust her even with something so small, but finally he nods. “Thank you.” She picks up a leftover strip from his shirt, gestures for him to sit. “On the bed.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back some innuendo that’s just desperate to be voiced, but he does as she asks. Once he’s seated, she crosses the room, sits beside him and reaches to tend to one of the worst wounds on his back. 

To her relief he doesn’t say anything but she gasps in amazement as the gash begins to heal. It’s not dramatic, the red a little less angry, the open skin closer together, but somehow it’s the most magical thing she’s seen since they arrived. 

She moves on to another injury by his bandages. He winces at that one. “How did this happen?”

“I told you, the Crocodile.” There’s less weight to his name than there usually is and she blames it on exhaustion, or pain. 

“I know but… he’s a middle aged guy who walks with a cane. I watched you take out half the crew an hour ago. I don’t understand how he could have done this.”

He’s silent for a moment, voice lower when he speaks. “Pan told me that I would find my revenge in the land without magic, that the Dark One was powerless there.” She brushes the healing waters over his shoulder. “But he lied. The Crocodile threw me across his shop without laying a hand on me the moment I walked in.” 

She takes another look at the slices on his back, remembers the broken display cases in the shop and realizes the glass must have cut him through the leather. She wonders if he’d have survived without it. 

“He favours that cane as a weapon,” he adds, raising a brow and looking at her over his shoulder. Emma winces this time. “I couldn’t move. And when he’d had his fill he decided to end it for good.” 

“What do you mean?”

“He threw me from the roof… twice” She stops what she’s doing, straightens to look at him in shock. “For good measure, I suppose.” He attempts a laugh but she can’t return it, too disgusted. 

She rises from the bed, coming around to stand in front of him, hesitating before touching her fingers to his jaw, tilting his head up so she can tend to a painful looking gash over his eye. “I’m so sorry. How could anyone do that…”  Emma whispers as she moves to a deeper wound near his hairline. He doesn’t answer her and so she tends to the scabbed cut on his cheek in silence.

“He thinks I stole his wife.” The confession is breathed into the space between them, small and private. 

Silently, she touches the cloth to his split lip. It’s not as bad as the others but keeps opening every time he speaks. She can’t meet his gaze as she asks, “Did you?”

Killian’s fingers wrap around her wrist and stays her movements. He doesn’t speak until she looks at him, holds her gaze with defiance and an old, ancient heartbreak. 

“A woman’s heart can’t be stolen, Swan. Especially not one like hers.” 

With his shirt discarded there’s nothing to conceal the words scrawled boldly across his forearm. Milah, a heart with a dagger through it. He took her. His words from before echo in her memory, their meaning even darker now than they had been then. 

Her answer is cut short when a wail pierces the air, making her jump. Another follows quickly. For a moment, she thinks the sirens have returned, that they saw through his ruse earlier. But this wail is different; it’s not melodic; it’s not terrifying. It's sad, the sound of crying carrying on the wind from somewhere. She looks to Killian, her confusion reflected back at her before a flicker of sympathy crosses his features. He relaxes, his thumb brushing over her wrist soothingly. 

“It’s alright, love. It’s just the Lost Boys. They cry sometimes at night - for their mothers.” He’s studying her strangely, like she’s surprised him, though she doesn’t know how. “... You’ve been abandoned.” It’s not a question and Emma stares at him, suddenly defensive and wary. She pulls her arm free and steps back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only those who know what it is to feel abandoned and unloved can hear them.” 

A knot forms in her throat. She hates Neverland. Looking out the window she tries not to let the tears that sting her eyes fall. “Do you think Henry…” 

Killian shakes his head. “That boy knows you wouldn’t leave him, love.”

She takes a broken shaky breath, guilt rearing its head. “I did, though, abandon him. The day he was born. I gave him up.” 

He touches her wrist again and this time she lets him, doesn’t pull away. “Look at the lengths you’ve gone to to get him back.” 

“He doesn’t know that.” 

“He will.” 

They’re silent for a moment. She hopes he’s right. She has to believe that Henry believes in her enough to know that she’ll come for him, that she’d never abandon him. Not again, not now that she’s had a chance to know him. When she’d given him up, Emma had really believed she was giving him his best chance, that he’d be better off with someone else, not an unloved and unwanted teenager who had him behind bars. She never wanted him to grow up feeling the way she did, and still somehow he had. And she hates that she did the same thing to him that her parents - one of whom may or may not be her roommate - did to her.

“You can hear them too.” She looks at Killian who nods but doesn’t look away. 

“Aye.” 

“Were you a Lost Boy? Before you became a pirate?” 

He considers it longer than she’d expect, especially as he finally answers, “No.” 

Emma doesn’t ask him any more questions. He doesn’t need to answer them any more than she does. He’s been abandoned too, feels just as unloved and unwanted. 

“You should get some rest,” he says then, dropping her hand. “Thank you for your help with the bandages.”

 Emma knows when she’s been dismissed, and she doesn’t blame him. The entire conversation had gotten a little too personal, a little too vulnerable for two people who keep their guards up as high as them. She sets the cloth down on the table next to the pitcher of spring water and heads for the door. He’s right. She needs rest. Today has been one of the worst, most terrifying, strangest days of her life and she imagines it’s only going to get worse from here.

***

She finds him the next morning by the helm. He doesn’t steer them anywhere, the ship still anchored in the bay, but he runs his fingers over the spokes, stops and traces something she can’t see behind the wheel. Something about it feels like a private moment, so she hovers by the stairs, waits until he comes back from wherever he was to step out into sight. 

Killian gives a small grin when he sees her. “Swan, I almost didn’t recognize you. You make a convincing young lad.”

Emma makes a face at him that he clearly finds incredibly amusing as he comes down to join her on the deck. “Let’s just hope the mermaids are as obtuse as you are.” Killian chuckles softly in amusement. “How are your ribs?” 

His smile softens. “Much better. Barely a bruise.” Her eyes widen. She nearly asks to see but just knows that he’ll intentionally misinterpret that request. 

“Great so we just have to keep you away from Will then, I guess. And hope that Ianeira doesn’t decide to play too rough.” 

It was meant as a joke but he only hums, his expression turning sombre. 

“Are you sure about this, love?”

“I’m coming with you.” She’s not leaving room for argument. They’ve already had that argument and she won. Henry is her kid; she’s not leaving his fate up to anyone else. She did that for ten years and look where it got him. 

Studying her as though he hoped she’d change her mind overnight, he finally nods, accepting. “Come on then.” 

“Aren’t we taking the ship?” she asks when he leads her towards the railing where a few feet below a dinghy hangs securely from the side. 

This time he studies her like she’s an idiot. “You want to sail into siren infested waters? If you want to offer yourself up as a meal there are easier ways than sinking my ship to do so.”

“You could have just said no.” 

“No.” Ass. “We’ll go through the jungle to their territory. Better to have this conversation on dry land. Makes it easier to run away - or fight,” he adds, as though only just realising something. He reaches into his coat, those endless pockets that all seem to be full of more than they should hold. “Here,” Killian says, handing her a dagger. Taking it from him she tucks it between her belt and her pants and he nods in approval. “What?” he asks when she cocks her head at him with a small frown. 

“How many other weapons have you got hidden away on you?” She definitely hadn’t found that one when she’d searched him in the hospital. He only flashes her a cheeky grin before turning back to the dinghy. 

“Ladies first,” he gestures and Emma rolls her eyes before climbing up onto the railing and swinging her feet over. Carefully dropping down into the little boat, she looks back up, waiting as he does the same.

He lowers them to the water and rows them into shore despite having only one hand, his hook looped around the end of the paddle. She’d have offered to help but was worried about offending him. Besides, he’s clearly capable and she’s absolutely sure he’s done this a hundred times at least - if only for illicit mermaid rendez-vous.

The trip across the bay is short, the beach a welcome sight after having been on the water for so long. He hops out as they reach the shoreline, grabbing the bow and dragging the little rowboat ashore and then gesturing for her to get out. Killian laughs as her legs suddenly go unsteady beneath her, and he reaches out to catch her. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sailor lose their land legs so quickly, Swan,” he tells her, hand and hook at her elbows as she regains her balance. “Perhaps there’s a little pirate in you after all.” 

She rolls her eyes and he only grins, letting go of her arms and she gestures for him to lead the way. “Come on, we can’t keep your date waiting.” 

He leads her through the dark jungle, the lush canopy growing denser with every step, vines and branches encroaching on them as though trying to swallow them whole. Killian draws his sword, cutting their way through the foliage and creating something close to a path. She keeps close, walking barely a step behind to avoid losing sight of him - or being snatched by whatever it is she feels is watching her from the dark. 

“How can you even tell where you’re going?” she asks and hears his sigh begin. “I just mean I can’t see anything, how are you remembering where you need to go?”

“It’s not the first time I make this journey in darkness,” he answers and she rolls her eyes at the smugness. We get it. You fucked a mermaid. “It has changed since I was last here,” he admits after a moment. “There used to be a path here. The jungle’s grown.” 

“It’s been a decade…”

“Hmm.” 

He goes silent, thinking so intently that Emma can feel it in the space between them, a tension that grows more foreboding with every passing second. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“In two hundred years this jungle hasn’t changed. Sure, a tree cut here or there, a new spot for the boys to play… but not like this. This isn’t Pan changing Neverland. It looks… overgrown.” 

“Peter Pan doesn’t strike me as a gardener.”

“Neverland is his,” he tells her again. “He doesn’t have to tend to anything. It bends to his whims and stays or becomes what he wants it to be.” 

“So, what does that mean?” 

“Either he’s done this intentionally for his game, or the jungle has become free of his control.” Killian looks at her over his shoulder. “Stay close,” he warns as though she isn’t already nearly pressed against his back. She nods and they continue through the trees, the silence between them wary and guarded. 

“Not much further now,” he tells her and Emma strains to hear the sound growing from the distance. It’s faint, a whisper through the branches, water and wind. There’s a glow up ahead, only just visible against the darkness. It’s only as they get closer that Emma realizes what it really is - singing. Or something like it. Those wailing, terrifying notes falling and folding around each other to form a melody that shouldn’t be so beautiful, so alluring. 

When they reach the edge of the jungle, finally freed from the grabbing vines, they shift from one darkness to another. Only this one isn’t brought on by leaves blocking out the sun. They’ve come to the base of a cliff, the sun not seeming to shine here. But from the wall of rock she can hear the water rippling, drops echoing disjointedly through the chorus of voices. The glow, she realizes, is the reflection of light off the waves, patterns shining against the damp walls all the way out here. Where that light is coming from she doesn’t know. 

“Stay behind me,” he orders. “Don’t get close to the edge and keep your face hidden. Don’t speak unless I tell you to. Understand?” She nods solemnly. “Good. Come on.”

“Wait,” she catches his arm. “Wendy told me I should be ready to lose something. What do they want?”

“Don’t worry Swan, they won’t take anything from you.” Emma frowns at him in confusion and he continues. “She’ll want it from me.” 

He moves before she can stop him, before she can ask what he means, what Ianera’s going to take. Killian shouldn’t be giving up anything for her, she’s already asked too much of him. But maybe he knows exactly what the mermaid wants… Maybe it’s something he doesn’t mind giving, she thinks petulantly, rolling her eyes at his back. 

“It’s freezing,” Emma breathes as they pass the mouth of the cave, wrapping her arms around herself, her words turning to mist as soon as they pass her lips. 

“Aye. They live in the deepest fathoms of the sea, where the water would stop a human heart in an instant. They keep their caves absent from heat as well.”

“Cozy,” she says just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the depths. “I guess all those paintings of mermaids laying around naked in the sun were just done by a bunch of perverts then, huh?”

The singing tapers off as their footsteps echo against the stone, voices dropping off one note at a time as the cave goes near silent. 

“They know we're here,” Killian whispers, and then, “Stay behind me. They’re slower on land but they could still catch you if you stumble.”

A high, hissing shriek fills the space as Killian steps out into view. The ground beneath his feet is frozen, little puddles of frozen water scattered across the solid rock, massive columns of thick ice reach from the ceiling to the ground like stalactites. The water reflects them and then off of them, creating some cycle of ethereal white-blue waves light with no source and no end. 

Emma nearly stumbles back in fear as she rounds the corner and sees dozens of Lorelei spread throughout the cave, all of them as terrifyingly beautiful as Ianera, swimming in the underground lake or laid out on rocks. They look as though they might have been lounging, but now every single set of eyes is turned on them, a snarl pulling at their lips and exposing viciously sharp teeth. 

“Peace, ladies,” Killian calls casually, putting both hands up. “It’s only me.” 

“Who is he?” the echoing chorus of voices demands and suddenly all eyes are on her. 

“A new recruit,” he shrugs, waving a hand dismissively.

“And you bring him here? To us?” they demand.

“Aye, well, you know how the young ones are. They hear stories of the fearsome sirens, as beautiful as they are powerful, and they want to see it for themselves.” 

“Then why does he look away?” 

Emma tucks her chin further against her chest, hiding as much of her face beneath her hat as possible. She doesn’t know which one is speaking to her, can’t see beyond the stone and ice by her feet, but it doesn’t make a difference. Each of them sounds like all speaking at once even as the source moves throughout the cave. 

“He’s shy,” Killian answers, as though poking fun at a teenage boy with a crush. Which, she supposes, is exactly what he wants them to think she is.  

“What business have you here, Killian Jones?” The voices have moved again, closer now and Killian takes a step towards the edge. “We told you of the boy’s plans last night.”

“Hello, darling,” he croons and Emma doesn’t have to guess which of the mermaids is speaking now. She’d groan if she weren’t so terrified of making a sound. 

“You seek something,” they answer, not a question but also not an accusation. “Speak it.” 

“Well, I thought we might warm up to it first, but if you want to jump right in I can certainly be flexible.” How can he turn literally everything into an innuendo? When she doesn’t play along, he drops some of the bravado, smile slipping and jaw tightening. “The boy that Pan took - what do you know of him?”

“A better question, Captain Hook, is what do you know of him? There have been whispers,” she tells him again. There seem to always be whispers on this island. 

“What are they saying?” Killian asks casually but the tightness in his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed - at least not by her. 

“The man who swore he’d gone forever, who forsook this land and all upon it, returns in the shadow of the child Pan sought.” Her gaze turns to Emma who shrinks back, making herself small and hiding her face in the darkness she finds. “And with him comes a new Lost Boy - though none have gone missing from the camp.” 

Fuck. 

“Did Pan tell you that?” he asks, still hiding the most of his fear. 

Ianeira cocks her head. “We see beyond that which the boy can of what transpires on this island. We know of the bargain made.”

“Do you know why he wants him?” All pretence is gone from his demeanour now, no sense in trying to convince the sirens of something other than what they already know - they’re here for Henry. She doesn’t answer and he tries again. “Do you know where he is?” 

“You know the rules of the game. You ask what we cannot answer”

“I’m tired of playing his bloody game,” Killian snaps, and for the first time, the siren looks intrigued. There’s a long, weighted pause as the two regard each other, Emma’s heartbeat thrumming in her ears as she waits to see how this will go. His stance shifts, a change she can’t read. “And I think you are as well.” 

Another breath before she answers. “What do you seek, Killian Jones? Speak your desires plainly.”

“An end. To Pan’s dominion over the island and over all of us.” 

A hiss passes through the cave, whispered voices with indecipherable words, hushed and spoken over one another as every siren joins in, builds on it. The space fills with the buzz that grows so overwhelming Emma has to fight not to cover her ears, not to run from the sinister sound, until Ianeira calls for silence in a sharp tone, no echo to her voice this time. The cave settles, voices falling away until there’s silence again, only broken by the trickling of water.

“You know of the fate of the Lorelei in times past,” she says, the voice of many once more. “Of our sisters.” Killian nods grimly. “And still you are so bold as to ask this of us?”

“If we can end him there will be no return to the past,” he argues. “You and your sisters would be free once again - to come and go as you please, free of his service.” 

“And what if you should fail, Captain? What will become of us then?”

“We won’t. Not if we align with the Fae and the Constant. We can’t.” 

Emma shivers at his last words. They aren’t spoken in confidence but with a harrowing finality. They can’t afford to lose. 

“Of what do you beseech us? We will not be entrapped by vague suggestions.” 

Emma looks to Killian sharply. Does that mean they’ll help? Are the mermaids actually on their side? He keeps his eyes locked on Ianeira’s, his hesitation invoking the thought put into every word of his answer.  

“I think the boy is at the centre of all of this. I think Pan needs him for something, and anything Pan needs is of no small measure.” She nods slowly. “We need your sight and your ears. Anything the Lorelei learn that could be useful in our endeavour, I ask that you bring to me. And I ask that you and your sisters do not betray my confidence or that of those who ally with us.” 

Ianeira considers this for a long moment, the rest of the cave as silent and contemplative even as they all look to her. “And if one of our sisters is to fall to the fate of the old ways, what will you do then? What justice can you promise us?”

“I can offer you our protection, men to guard your cave and shores. I ken you do not need our help at sea.” 

She shakes her head. “That will not suffice.” She waits again, listening as a small buzz builds in the cave once more, softer, less furious, but no less unsettling. When it quiets she nods slowly. “For every fallen Lorelei, there will be a fallen sailor.”

Shock nearly sends Emma reeling back. Killian can’t agree to that. She thinks of Wendy and Will and the other young men on board. A life for a life, the mermaid is demanding and it’s too much. 

“Aye,” he says to her disbelief and dismay. “Myself the first.” 

It’s too much. There’s no way that getting the sirens on their side could be worth their lives. Is this what Wendy had meant when she’d said they would lose something? But she thinks of what Killian said - they can’t afford to lose. She supposes that if Pan finds the Lorelei out, they, Killian and his crew would be dead anyway. 

Ianeira smiles, reaches out her hand, elegant fingers and sharp-clawed nails wrapping around Killian’s as he takes it. “Agreed.” 

At least this time she didn’t make out with him to seal the deal… 

When Killian moves to pull away though, after kissing the back of her hand, she doesn’t release him, drawing him back to her. Emma only sees his face for a brief moment, the small wince of disappointment and foreboding - he’d hoped to avoid this, she thinks - as he turns back to the siren, kneels at the water’s edge. Waves lap against his boots and knees as he lowers himself to the mermaid’s level, her tail submerged in the deep, her elbows resting on the rocky surface. 

“You are too quick, Killian Jones. There is still the matter of payment.” 

“What are you talking about?” Emma demands, forgetting herself. “He just agreed to give you a life for every life you lose!” 

“Silence your sailor, Captain, or we will do so for you,” she warns, turning to her and Killian glares at her over his shoulder. 

“Quiet, boy,” he snaps, his own warning nearly as threatening as Ianeira’s. She’s still looking at Emma when Killian continues. “What do you want for your help?”

A slow, wicked smile crosses her lips, beautiful and terrifying, like she knows what she wants, like she’s been waiting to ask and now finally can. “You wish for our silence, then we will take yours in exchange.” Killian sighs, accepting, like he knows what that means. “Your voice,” she continues and Emma frowns in confusion. This is some Little Mermaid level fucked up shit. His voice? 

He smirks then, how he’s able to, she has no idea but even she can see it’s a desperate attempt. “I thought you were quite fond of my voice, love.” 

Before Emma can wonder if the seduction ever actually works, Ianeira’s smile turns wry and indulging, matching his. “Not all your voice, for it will be needed,” she allows. “We will take a word.”

“Which word?” he asks, swallowing.

“We give you our devotion and we take yours in return.” His shoulders fall. Emma wishes she could see his face, that she could understand what he clearly knows already. “Speak it, Killian Jones, one last time.” 

It’s just a word, she thinks. ‘One last time’ the siren had said, a word he won’t be able to use again. There are worse things right? That can’t be so bad. But she freezes, blood running cold when Killian takes a deep, shaky breath and then speaks. 

“Milah.”

“No!” Emma shouts, stepping out of the darkness, shocking the mermaid whose hand had risen to Killian’s cheek, lips inches from his, and Ianeira turns, hisses at her viciously. Suddenly every other siren has turned to her, teeth bared in a snarl and every instinct is telling her to run. But she can’t. Instead she steps forward. 

Killian stands, turning to her, blocking her from approaching the edge with his body. Face a breath from her own, he speaks angrily in the bare space between them. “Step back, Swan.” His voice is low enough not to be heard by their audience but she glares at him, stares down the woman in the water. 

“I’ll pay it. Not him.” 

She scoffs. “What do you know of devotion, child? What do you know of love? Your words are worthless to us.”

“I’m not a child,” she shoots back defiantly. 

“Emma!” Killian snaps, but she’s already pushed past him, standing at the edge where he stood. 

“Come closer,” Ianeira tells her. “Let us see you, boy.”

“No,” Killian interjects but the mermaid gives him a threatening look as Emma kneels down as he did. 

Razor tipped claws trace her cheek, sharp against her skin, enough that if she only pressed, Emma knows it would break, slice open with a flick of her wrist. Like she had on the boat last night, Ianeira rises in the water, bringing herself eye to eye, and Emma holds her breath, refusing to look away. A slight frown crosses her ice-like face before finally a shocked and thrilled realization dawns on it. 

“A woman.” 

A swirl of wails and hisses and cries echo through the cave, as though unable to find their usual unison. Splashes resound everywhere as dozens of Lorelei rush to the water’s edge, crowding around their sister to see for themselves. Emma can’t breathe, can’t think, frozen solid under the mermaid’s menacing touch as they all study her. 

“And our ally,” Killian says loudly over the chaos of sound. Ianeira’s gaze lifts to his over Emma’s head. “Whom you’ve agreed not to betray. Pan can’t know she’s here.” 

“A woman,” she repeats, mesmerized as the excitement quiets around her, but her expression hardens, looking at the man standing behind her. “Forbidden. And you bring her here. Who is she to you that you risk both your lives in lying to us?”

Emma answers before Killian can, the edge of jealousy she’d been warned about sharp in the siren’s voice. “I’m Henry’s mother.” Her words draw the attention back to her, an answer she’d clearly not been expecting. “The boy that Pan took, he’s my son. That’s the only reason I’m here with him. And the only reason he agreed to let me come.” 

Ianeira watches her carefully, reading her for lies in the same way she had Killian on the boat. Emma doesn’t flinch. It’s the truth. She doesn’t have anything to hide from her. She can’t risk a glance back at the man behind her to see his reaction. Because of the way he is around you, Wendy had warned. The siren’s smile is pleased. 

“A woman’s voice in Neverland - rare and powerful. We will take your word.”

“And this will be payment for his requests too? Everything you agreed on before you found out who I am?” 

The siren nods.

“No,” Killian argues again. 

“Shut up. He’s my son,” Emma snaps. She wants to scream at him. Please don’t be an idiot and make the murder mermaid jealous by trying to protect me. And she won’t let him give up Milah for her, not after everything he’s already given. Her love ended in heartbreak and betrayal. She can give hers up. Steeling herself she forces her voice to breathe out the name she hasn’t let herself speak in over ten years. “Neal.”

Ianeira continues to study her, carefully. “No,” she says finally. “The word holds no power. There is no devotion still entangled in it. We will take another.” Emma’s heart races. Please don’t take Henry, is all she can think. It may just be a word but to think she could never call her son by his name again, after she’s only just learned it, breaks her heart. “Forbidden woman,” Ianeira says then. “You wish us to keep this truth from the boy, then we will take a truth.” 

“What truth?” 

“Yours. We will take your true self.”

With a shaky breath she says, “Emma.” 

The siren shakes her head and she frowns. Who the hell else is she if she’s not Emma? But this isn’t the real world - this is the weird, magic, words being stolen from her by beautiful fish women reality and she’s learning quickly that they play by different rules. Who is she? She tries to dig into that place that she’s kept locked up for so long, that she’s avoided even thinking of it - and she knows. She may have come to Storybrooke and found Henry and possibly her parents; she read the story and knows why they gave her up. But it doesn’t change the truth. 

“Orphan.” That’s what she’s always been and tears burn at her eyes as she speaks it. 

Her answer is considered longer this time, but again the creature shakes her head. “Orphan is what you were. But no longer are you so. Speak once more, forbidden woman, and speak truth or the agreement will be forgotten.”

Emma frowns at her, desperate. She doesn’t know what she wants. She doesn’t know who she is - that’s the truth. She’s spent decades trying to find out who she was, why she was abandoned, why she was forced to grow up the way she did. Her life has been a series of dead ends and unanswered questions. She spent it looking for the truth, unable to build her own in the absence of it. 

Except once. She shuts her eyes, remembering herself, small and alone, cold and burning pages to keep warm. The boy who’d spoken to her about fate and believing, and about the duckling who’d changed her fate and become what she wanted to be. 

“Swan.” The only part of her that’s ever truly been hers alone, the only time she’d made a choice about who she would be and not let the world change it. Her parents had named her and then made her an orphan. Neal had made her hard and untrusting, Henry had made her a mother - all she was, dictated by someone else’s choices, someone else’s actions. But on that night, she had decided that she would be a Swan, that she would make herself a Swan, and that was who she’d become.

This time, Ianeira’s smile is satisfied, and she nods, leaning forward to press her mouth against Emma’s and she feels as though something is being pulled from her chest. A warmth burns through it, in her throat and on her lips before suddenly it’s gone, leaving something missing on her tongue. When she pulls away, the mermaid smirks.

“Let’s go, Emma,” Killian calls from behind her, angry. “Ianeira, you know where to find us.”

The siren nods before releasing her and Emma rushes away from the edge, back colliding with Killian’s chest. His hand and hook grip her arms, holding her back and guiding her towards the exit, forcing her towards it. 

“Until next time, Killian Jones.”

They reach the mouth of the cave, stepping out into the dark jungle, and Killian pushes ahead of her, storming furiously out through the path they forged on their way here and leaving her with her thoughts.

She wants to try and say her name - see how literal the trade was. How does it work? Can she really not speak it? Not use it even if she’s talking about an actual swan? Or will her words just fall on deaf ears as they pass her lips? She decides not to try, afraid of whether she’ll be able to handle the answer.

“So we got the mermaids,” she starts. “That’s good right?” Killian doesn’t answer, his anger a presence in the increasing space between them. “I know I wasn’t supposed to reveal myself but we got what we wanted and that’s what matters.” Silence. “Killian?” He continues walking, back to her, pace steady enough that she has to hurry to catch up. “Hey!” she demands, grabbing his elbow and trying to force him to look at her. He shrugs her off, glaring at her over his shoulder. “Why are you so pissed off? Are you mad that I kissed your girlfriend or something?”

He whirls on her then. “You were supposed to stay back, keep your face hidden and your mouth shut. You weren’t supposed to reveal yourself.”

“I’m sorry. I know, I just didn’t want them to -”

“You didn’t listen to me. Again.”

“I had to.” She crosses her arms defiantly. “I couldn’t let you give up -”

“Don’t say her name,” he hisses. She steps back, struck, and his fury changes, shame and hatred muddying its edges. But it’s not directed at her. He lets out a slow breath, heavy and unsteady. “It should have been me. I should have been the one to sacrifice for your boy. And you shouldn’t have sacrificed anything for me.” 

“Why? Killian, you’ve done so much for us. I just wanted to -”

“Stop, Swan,” he says, and then seems to regret it, a pang going through her at the use of her name. “Stop thanking me.” He turns away, face twisting like looking at her hurts. “There are things you don’t know. Things I’ve done.”

She tenses, immediately on her guard. “What things?” 

His thumb plays over the rings on his fingers as he looks off into the darkness of the jungle, brow pinching tight before dragging his gaze back up to hers. 

“Pan found -” he takes another shaky breath. “Henry is in Neverland because of me.” 

*****

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[seriouslyhooked]

I’ll Stay (Vulnerable)

Cannon divergent oneshot based in 3A when everyone is back from Neverland. CS-centric, and involves Emma coming to grips with her feelings for Hook much earlier.  Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! In this chapter, we are taking things back to season 3 and we are rewriting it. I know, I know, you’re all shocked. Me – a devoted follower of fluff and hope – is going to rewrite a storyline where Emma and Henry left everyone behind and forgot them? Yup. Absolutely. Would write this fic a hundred times in a hundred different ways if I could. In this divergent little drabble, we made it through Neverland and got rid of Pan without any more curses or nonsense. Everyone knows what could have happened, but they avoided it, and now Emma is grappling with the fact that something more than a ‘one-time thing’ is happening between her and Hook. Inspired by the song ‘Vulnerable’ by Selena Gomez.

The irony was not lost on Emma that sleep was eluding her.

After what felt like an eternity fighting to get Henry back from the clutches of Pan and from the brink of danger, they were finally home. They’d staved off another curse, circumvented another terrible twist that would have ripped them all apart once more, and, most importantly, her kid was safe, sleeping in his bed and on the road to healing from this terrible adventure.

Over the past week, Emma had barely closed her eyes. Leading them through Neverland and navigating the wickedness of Gold and his father was a constant struggle. The physical toil and the emotional pain had been profound. She was exhausted and weary, but still, sleep would not come.

Here in the loft, the air was quiet, and the mood was peaceful. The moonlight trickled through the glass pane of her window, and the curtains caught in the breeze filtering in from outside. The temperature was perfect, cool and refreshing, but warm under the covers. The bad guys had been beaten, Storybrooke was safe, and the calm seemed stable, at least enough to last through the night. But it didn’t matter. Despite her best efforts, Emma could not sleep. She’d tried everything, but none of it would work.

It’s never going to work, she said to herself dejectedly. Not until you face this.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” she muttered aloud, shutting down the part of her that wanted to work things out instead of always avoiding.

She heaved out a sigh of defeat and tossed the rumpled sheets off of her. Climbing out of bed and tiptoeing to the kitchen, Emma made sure to avoid all the noisiest parts of this apartment. She didn’t want to disturb Henry or her parents, but she couldn’t handle being cooped up in that bed. It was getting her nowhere. In fact, it was making things worse. Lying there in the dark, she was bombarded by memories and what ifs. It all was overwhelming, and enough to drive her mad.

Wordlessly she moved to the kitchen and found herself reaching for the ingredients needed for a calming cup of cocoa. Despite the lateness of the hour, she knew it would be a small token of comfort in a long, unrelenting night. The motions of preparing the sweat treat were soothing. This was a ritual she had grown accustomed to, and was mindless enough to lose herself in. But this late-night activity, which usually saw her through the worst of days, didn’t yield the desired effect. Her thoughts still wandered, circling back to a particular pirate who perplexed and provoked her.

I don’t understand his motives, she said to herself, knowing this was her cynicism taking the lead. Why is he still helping? Why take the risk? What is he after?

Why does he have to be ‘after’ anything? The reasonable part of her brain replied. Why can’t you just accept that he cares about you?

Because it can’t happen.

It already has. The kiss, in Neverland…

It was a one-time thing.

It doesn’t have to be.

It does.

It doesn’t.

It does.

You’re scared.

Of course, I’m scared! He’s Captain freaking Hook!

He’s just Killian.

“He’s not just anything,” Emma murmured as she mixed in the chocolate, watching the warmed milk turn to a rich, silky chestnut color. Here was the kernel of truth she was terrified to admit. To Emma, Hook wasn’t just a villain or a pirate. He was more, intricate and messy and moving and intriguing.

During their time in Neverland, Hook had awakened something in her. It started with the kiss, that sinful encounter that drove her to distraction, but also struck her heart, piercing armor she had been building up for years. Okay, maybe it started before that. There were plenty of heated glances, and barbed bits of repartee between them that almost felt like foreplay, but the kiss lit a fuse she didn’t realize existed. It was meant to be a power move, a strategic plan to shut him up, maybe the vent some of her frustrations out, but the consequences lingered, and they were ones that Emma never saw coming.

She could still taste him even now, the ghost of that embrace tracing touches on her skin. Pressed up against him, the roughness of leather and metal, the scrape of his beard, the taut lines of his body… She’d given into him in that moment and lingered in the pleasure. When they kissed, Emma allowed herself a minute just to feel and to live. For a fleeting blip of time, the world wasn’t crumbling around her. She was restored and she was hopeful, but it had to be just once. She wasn’t meant to want any more than that. She certainly shouldn’t still be thinking of it now, but here she was. And she was thinking of more too, thinking of the ways he’d risked himself, the ways he’d supported her, the way he’d saved her father. She acknowledged in the silence of her self-dialogue that she had grown to count on him, and that she felt drawn to him, even when his obvious role had come to an end. She should have been eager for him to go, now that the task of defeating Pan was over, but the thought of him leaving left an aching, empty feeling in her chest.

Over the past few days, Hook had luckily shown no real signs of setting outward. He was still sarcastic and cocky and cutting. He was practically gleeful every time he got to torment David, and his actions towards Neal and towards Gold were downright frosty still, but there was honor underneath it all and a respect he gave the others and this town that spoke to a more gentlemanlike nature. She had seen him when they located Henry, and observed a genuine relief when she was reunited with her son. She noticed the way he minded the others, helping far more than he hurt, and how he bit back the bullshit bad guy act when they just couldn’t take it. He could read a room, and he often did, though he hid behind the swagger and the accent. And more than once there was something that colored his gaze, swimming in the blue depths of his eyes. When he looked at her, he hid nothing, and let the weight of his affection flow between them. He may not say the words aloud, but he laid it all out there, showing a vulnerability she never imagined but desperately craved. He wanted her, and Emma… well Emma wanted -

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Emma jumped, her hand moving towards her chest and making contact with the speedy pacing of her heartbeat. Adrenaline spiked in her system, but she immediately relaxed when she saw it was only Mary Margaret. Emma worried for a moment that the conversations playing in her head may have been whispered out loud, but her mother (God that was still so weird to say), showed no awareness. Seeing as Mary Margaret was incapable of keeping secrets, Emma knew her own were safe. At least for now.

“No. You?”

“I wish,” Her mother said, reaching into the cupboard and coming out with cinnamon, bringing a small smile to Emma’s lips. “I never can after these escapades. But your father? Out like a light the moment the bad things pass. It’s almost like it never happened.”

“Lucky guy,” Emma joked, and her mother chuckled, a thoughtful expression coloring her face.

“We are all lucky tonight. It was almost so much worse.” Snow’s words had the lilt of unshed tears hanging on the end. Emma could see the mistiness in her mother’s eyes, and felt the weight of her worry. “We almost lost you again, Emma.”

“I know, but you didn’t,” Emma said, placing a hand on her mother’s shoulder. Snow placed her own hand over it and took a deep breath, nodding. She wiped two stray tears away quickly but collected herself.

“Everything that’s happened… well it’s put things in perspective for me.”

“Like what?”

“I was wrong, Emma. In Neverland, when I practically interrogated you about Hook.” 

To say that this was unexpected was an understatement. Emma was shocked at the acknowledgement, even though she appreciated the words.

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t,” her mother emphasized, and Emma stayed quiet. Snow was right after all. It wasn’t great. It had caused more pain in a series of painful events, but Emma planned to just move past it and leave the discomfort behind them. “I didn’t understand what you had been through. Even worse I jumped to my own conclusions. I was pushing you towards Neal, thinking Hook was the bad guy, but in the end, looking at the full picture, that’s not really the story, is it?”

“No, it isn’t,” Emma agreed. “Honestly, I can’t really follow the story anymore. I feel…”

“Lost?” her mother asked. Emma nodded.

“Yeah. Crazy right? We leave Neverland, and somehow I’m more lost back home than I was there.”

“Maybe,” her mother mused, as Emma poured two glasses of cocoa. She handed them to Snow for added cinnamon, but she was curious as to her mother’s hesitation.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, are you really lost, Emma? Or are you scared of facing what it is that you want?”

The words were a swift punch to the gut, but Emma sustained them, taking a sip of her cocoa and braving up to respond honestly. “The second one. But it’s insane. How is it possible? A few weeks ago, I’d never even met this man. He’s a pirate – a villain from a story that I read as a kid. Things are moving so quickly, and yet their standing still. I don’t know what to do.”

“Do you trust him?”

“As much as I trust anyone,” she admitted, the truth coming out for the first time since meeting him.

“Do you care for him?”

Emma nodded, not daring to say that part just yet. Her mother’s eyes softened, a look of love despite the strangeness of this suitor.

“Does it have potential?”

“I don’t know,” Emma whispered, but the feeling in her chest that had been there for a while now was blooming something fierce. This may not be her gut, per se, but it was something adjacent, an instinct and an emotion screaming out that there was more than meets the eye here. This was different. This was special.

“If you think about the future, is he there?”

“I think I want him to be,” Emma said, knowing there wasn’t much thinking to be done. That was what she wanted, and now, she’d finally confessed it.

“Then you have your answer. It’s just a matter of facing it and doing what you need to do.”

Her mother’s observation hung between them and Emma realized Snow had immediate expectations. “You mean now? But it’s late.”

“So? He’s a pirate. I don’t know much about them, but I’ll hazard a guess that they don’t keep normal hours.”

“This is crazy.”

“Affairs of the heart usually are, Emma. You’ll recall I once bashed your father in the head with a rock, and yet the thought of going one more day without him by my side…” Emma’s pulse skipped a beat at the mention of her heart. Another sign that deep down she had known for quite a while what she wanted. “You’ll never sleep until it’s settled, honey. Believe me, I know. You take after your mother, just as I took after mine.”

Emma didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at her mother’s joke, but she found herself hugging Snow close and thanking her. From there, things got a bit hazy. She was working off of adrenaline, moving to her room and changing out of her pajamas before heading into the Storybrooke night. It was just after midnight, not tremendously late, but by small town standards it was as quiet as quiet could get. Everything was closed now, the diner, the inn. Even the bar was locked up tight, and that was as late-night as Storybrooke ever got. There was no one around, just Emma and the pounding of her heart. Still, she kept moving, following the advice of her mother and the sense of what-if that had nagged at her all evening.

Soon enough she was at the docks, following the lamp light, and headed in the direction of the Jolly Roger. It wouldn’t be difficult to spot, as the only Enchanted Forest vessel in the harbor, but still Emma worried. What if he’d left in the dark of the night? What if he believed her when she said this didn’t matter? What if she was too late?

When the ship came into view, she exhaled a sigh of relief, but it was quiet. The lights were out. There were no signs of movement anywhere. And then she heard it. Singing, feint at first, but louder as she approached the boat. The voice was deep, but ruggedly refined. She knew it was Hook, but she’d never actually considered what he’d sound like in a song. His voice was beautiful and a little haunting, the seafaring shanty being one of heartache and loss. It was somber and serene, but despite its content, it was also a little bit hopeful. At least to Emma. Because if Killian was up signing instead of sleeping in his quarters after all they’d faced in the past few weeks, maybe that meant he was thinking thoughts like the ones that she’d been plagued with.

On their voyage to and from Neverland, Emma came to know this ship intimately, and the wooden planks called out to her. They were familiar and welcoming, two things she never believed she would ever say. It would be so easy to come aboard and just announce herself. But instinctively she knew it wasn’t okay to board this ship without permission. Insecurities crept in at the realization. She was intruding. This wasn’t right.

This was stupid, she reasoned to herself. I should have waited until morning. I should have –

“Swan?”

The voice she most wanted to hear played strange tricks on her now, sending a shiver of anticipation through her system and a tiny bit of terror as well. She looked to the deck but didn’t see him, then she realized the voice had sounded out from a higher locale. Her eyes climbed the great mast of the Jolly and there he was, perched atop the crow’s nest. With a coordination and grace reserved for the movies, he swung down from the great height with a rope from above. The action only tensed the hard lines of his muscles even more, and Emma took each movement in, unable to look away.

Hook was still dressed in a way she was used to seeing, but now he was missing his jacket and his vest. His hair was tousled, and his beard a touch darker, or perhaps that was a trick of the moonlight. She’d never seen him like this before. He was somehow even sexier than usual, and it overwhelmed her. He descended from the ship at a hurried clip, moving towards her with purpose and precision. He closed the distance between them, until they were mere inches away from one another. When he was near enough, his eyes searched her whole being for signs of trouble, and his hand came out to reach for hers in a show of comfort. She extended hers in kind, and her body came alive at the contact. Her breathing caught as her eyes met his cerulean gaze, brimming with intensity and earnestness.

“Emma, love, are you all right? Is it Henry? Has something happened?”

The worry in his tone was evident, and the honesty she felt flowing off of him broke the last fragments of her will power. She couldn’t take it anymore. She was in this, and it was damn well time that she act like it.

She practically leapt into his arms, pulling him down by the v of his somewhat unbuttoned shirt and kissing him as she’d wanted to ever since walking away back in Neverland. The instant delight that came was heady and addictive, and this time Emma knew that she could savor it. There was nothing looming on the horizon – nothing poised to stop them or intrude on this big moment – and for the first time in a long time, Emma felt free. Free to feel and free to want something only for herself.

Hook needed only the briefest moment to respond. He practically purred out his approval, the growl he let loose buzzing through her and setting her ablaze. His expert use of hand and hook left her shaking. He pulled her even closer, closing the remaining space between them, and enveloping her in every part of him. Emma stopped knowing where she ended and he began. God, this was perfect. Easily the best kiss she’d ever had. How could anything possibly feel this good? His hard body had her squirming in his grasp, seeking any semblance of friction and relief. She’d been carrying desire for this man for too long, but compartmentalizing and hiding it away. Now it flowed freely, surrounding her, engulfing her, and leaving her breathless.

She wasn’t the only one trying to soak in every moment. Hook was just as ravenous, nipping and teasing her with touches designed to seduce and to entrance. He was hot and fierce and alluring, the scent of rum and salt and sea air clinging to him. It felt dangerous and daunting, but also natural and filled with need. Like magnets flung towards impact, two opposites attracting and finding something more. Many parts of this were familiar, but then it changed, sparked fire, and blazed to something past her comprehension.

With the benefit of privacy and time, Hook took control and guided the kiss. He was dominant and demanding in ways Emma never allowed another man to be. It set her soul on fire, and tilted the world into a whole new point of view. This heated embrace stole every shred of sanity Emma had left, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Neverland was about her making a statement, and tonight was as well. But Hook would have his say this time, and he showed her so much more through luscious actions than anyone ever had with words. This kiss was a revelation, a seduction any siren would be proud of, and here she was, caught within the storm but finding that she loved it all the same.

Coming up for air was a struggle, mostly because now that she had done this, Emma didn’t want to let go. But after the fervor of first contact, they both knew that they had to talk about this. For Emma, it was time to fess up, and to confess that the fear of taking a chance was overwhelming, but that the fear of losing a chance at this was even more jarring.

“It’s difficult for a man to determine if he’s dreaming when a woman as lovely as you appears like this, Swan.” Killian uttered the words as his fingers traced along her jaw. His hook held her hip in place, the cool metal a source of strange comfort. Emma nuzzled in closer, leaning against his palm and breathing him in as her eyes closed. “But in all my years I’ve never had a dream that compares to you. So it must be real. Please, Gods above, let it be real.”

“It’s real,” she whispered, pressing another soft kiss on his lips. “We’re real. I’ve been scared as hell to say that, but I…”

“I understand, love. It’s wholly unexpected. And I’m not exactly the kind of man a woman like you deserves.”

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, and the pain in his eyes sent a sharp sting through her heart. Obviously he didn’t see himself the way she saw him. But maybe with time, things would be more clear.

“It’s the truth, Swan.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Aye.”

“Do you want me?” He nodded immediately, his hold on her tightening, whether or not he realized it. Her lips curved up to a small smile at that, and she not so secretly loved how sure and certain he was in this.

“Yes.”

“Would you ever hurt me?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly, and the pain of her past surging up in darkened memories.

“I might, love, but Gods strike me down if I do, because it’s the last thing in the world I’d ever want.”

“And that’s how I know,” she whispered. Looking at him with new conviction, willing him to believe her. “That’s the difference with you, Killian. I see you, I see your heart, and I know you see me. Not the savior, not the sheriff, not the lost little girl or the woman with walls. You see me. Just me.”

“You’re all I see, Swan. Have been for some time.”

She didn’t know who started their next kiss, but she felt the frenzy of it all the same. It was just as magnificent as before, but this time sincerity simmered throughout as well. The understanding they were reaching made it all the better. Knowing they were both going to jump here gave her comfort, but there were still some words to say.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” she admitted, running her hand across his chest as their foreheads touched. She looked down to avoid an embarrassing exchange. Patiently he waited, but when she stayed stock still, he tilted back and brought up his hook. He gently nudged her chin back up, prompting her to see that there was nothing like judgment in his eyes.

‘Neither do I. But we’ll see it through. Together.”

“I’m not good at letting people in.”

This time he grinned, looking like a man who was up for the challenge of scaling her walls. She almost rolled her eyes until he took her hand in his and pressed a gentle kiss upon it. It was an intimate gesture that made her heart soar. Who was this man who could be so roughish and rough one moment and yet gentle and sweet the next?

“That makes two of us.”

“I’m going to fuck this up,” she affirmed, assured of the missteps she would make and wanting him to realize she was so much less than perfect.

Now he looked frustrated, and his voice ground out in a graveled, gruff tone. “Not possible.”

“How do you know?”

‘Because you’re you, Swan,” he murmured, pressing sweet kisses to her face, to her neck and jaw, then her lips once more. “You’re rare and remarkable and real. You can do anything you set your mind to, anything but push me away. I’m in this, Emma. Entirely and completely. It’s soon to admit that, but you deserve the truth, and you’ll always hear it from me.”

“I really want to trust you,” she whispered, clutching onto his shirt and letting this one last worry live between them.

“And someday you will. In the meantime, I can wait. I will wait. As long as it takes.” That was all it took. Peace finally claimed her, and something in her settled.

“Okay,” she murmured, leaning in to hug him and basking in his heat and the gentle thrumming of his heart.

“Okay,” he replied, a lilted whisper in her hair as he held her close.

They remained out there for a while more, but neither needed to say anything for them to realize what must come next. Emma needed to go home, and he would see her there, safe and sound. They walked together, down Main Street in the moonlight, hand in hand, with the closeness of lovers, and the poise of two similar souls seeking comfort in each other. No one was around to see them, but Emma knew they would very soon. She wasn’t going to hide this, and someday they’d walk in the light together, letting everyone know exactly where they stood.

When they were back by the loft, Emma stalled, not wanting this to end. She wished she could invite him up for a drink, a drink that would no doubt turn to more, but she couldn’t. Instead, they needed to say goodbye for now, but she found she wasn’t sure how.

Killian took the moment to pull her in, kissing her one last time, and saying again with actions what words could only half describe. This kiss was sweet but insistent, a reminder and a promise of all that he would give and all that they could have if they chose to be together. When they broke apart, Emma was certain in him and in herself. This was happening. This was right.

“Until tomorrow then, love,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss upon her cheek.

“Good night, Killian.”

His eyes lit up and he smiled at her use of his real name. She made a promise to herself that she would use it more often. He waited for her to go inside, and only when she’d done so did he finally walk away. Leaning against the wooden door, Emma sighed in relief and smiled.

This is the start of something good. Something true. Something… happy.

And with those final thoughts, Emma headed back to bed, and found that sleep came swiftly, bringing with it dreams she hoped would come to pass.

……………..

If I gave you every piece of me, I know that you could drop it Give you the chance, I know that you could take advantage once you got it If I open up my heart to you, I know that you could lock it Throw away the key and keep it there forever in your pocket

If I gave the opportunity to you, then would you blow it? If I was the greatest thing that happened to you, would you know it? If my love was like a flower, would you plant it, would you grow it? I might give you all my body, are you strong enough to hold it?

If I show you all my demons And we dive into the deep end Would we crash and burn like every time before? I would tell you all my secrets Wrap your arms around my weakness If the only other option's letting go

I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable

If I hand you my emotion, would you even want to take it? If I give you all my trust now, would you fumble it and break it? If I let you cross my finish line, then would you wanna make it? I think I'm ready, won't you come and flip the switch and activate it?

If I show you all my demons And we dive into the deep end Would we crash and burn like every time before? I would tell you all my secrets Wrap your arms around my weakness If the only other option's letting go

I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable

If I show you all my demons And we dive into the deep end Would we crash and burn like every time before? I would tell you all my secrets Wrap your arms around my weakness If the only other option's letting go

I'll stay vulnerable, yeah I'll stay vulnerable, yeah

If I show you all my demons And we dive into the deep end Would we crash and burn like every time before? (I'll stay vulnerable) I would tell you all my secrets Wrap your arms around my weakness If the only other option's letting go

(I'll stay vulnerable, yeah)

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Honestly, I had no intentions of writing this chapter right now. I knew the song needed to be in the mixtape, as I love it, and it fits so well with this series of CS love stories, but I have a number of other fics I am working on now that need attending to. Nevertheless, here we are, and luckily, this has proved to be the perfect palate cleanse for my other writing. My multichapter stories will be back soon. I’ve already started writing, and in the meantime, we all get an added little romantic bonus. Hope you enjoyed this dose of fluff, thank you all for reading, and know that I’m wishing you safe, healthy, and well. xE.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195, Part 196

[searchingwardrobes]

The Christmas Wish: 2/4

This fic is first and foremost a gift for @snowbellewells​, so of course it has to include a few of her favorite things. Chapter one had Captain Cobra, Daddy Charming, and Emma naming her son Graham. This chapter includes more of the first two and a favorite character of Marta’s in a way I hope she enjoys. Merry Christmas, my fandom twin! And many thanks to my beta, @kmomof4​ !

I also should warn that this is a bit of a slow burn, so don’t get too comfortable with the end of this chapter ;)

Summary: Emma leaned forward, closed her eyes, and a wish bubbled up unbidden from the depths of her heart. “I wish I could just have a simple, domestic life. Is that even in the cards for me?” Breath left her on an exhale just as the wish floated through her mind, and the candle blew out. The “answer” to her wish had to be some kind of trick, however. After all, it wasn’t as if anything in the vision she received could ever in a million years be real. It was ridiculous. Captain Hook, the father of three driving a minivan? Impossible.

Rated G for Hallmark movie levels of fluff and Christmas feels

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals:  @teamhook​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @welllpthisishappening​​ @optomisticgirl​​ @hookedonapirate​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​ @spartanguard​​ @let-it-raines​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @vvbooklady1256​​ @scientificapricot​​ @superchocovian​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @hollyethecurious​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @jrob64​​ @wellhellotragic​​ @winterbythesea​​ @winterbaby89​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @carpedzem​​ @thesschesthair​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @cutieodonoghue​​ @justbecauseyoubelievesomething​​ @juliakaze​​  @thisonesatellite​​ @therealstartraveller776​​ @thislassishooked​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @killian-whump​

Chapter Two: Hope

“You’re being awfully quiet.”

Emma barely registered her father’s words as he drove them back to Granny’s. Her mind was still reeling from what she had seen.

“I mean, I’m glad your vision is back,” David continued, his words trailing off.

Emma turned in her seat to look at him. “It is, and I’m fine. Really.”

He glanced at her with concern in his eyes. “What did that doctor do? You seemed pretty upset.”

Emma rubbed at her temple wearily. “She gave me some drops, and my vision cleared. That’s all. It was just so sudden, it sort of freaked me out.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. What caused it to begin with? Did she have you make a follow up appointment?”

She started to open her mouth to protest again that everything was fine, but then she quickly changed her tactic. “Yeah, actually, she did. I’m going back in a few days.”

David’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh of relief. Emma rested her hand in the crook of his elbow and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

“It was just stress, lack of sleep, and probably the shock my system got when my memories came back.” She forced herself to chuckle, and David managed to smile.

“In that case, you need to rest.”

She started to protest as he turned the truck towards Granny’s instead of towards the sheriff’s station, but the words died on her lips. Partly from her father’s stern glare and partly with the thought that time off to rest also meant time with Henry. She still worried about where the witch was hiding out, who cast this new curse, and a dozen other fairy tale related problems, but in this moment, worry for her son and their relationship won out. After all, it was Christmas. Emma pulled out her phone to call him.

“Mom! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, kid, everything’s fine. I can see again.”

“Thank God,” Henry sighed. He turned away from the phone to talk to Hook, then came back on the line. “Killian is happy too.”

A vivid image of the way he smiled at her in that vision floated across her mind, but Emma shook it away.

“Tell him thanks,” she said, her voice strained, “for everything, and that we’re pulling into Granny’s as I speak.”

“Oh, um . . . about that. We went out.”

“You did? Where?”

“Come on, Mom, it’s Christmas. I gotta have some secrets.”

Emma couldn’t help the smile that curled her lips. “Shopping already? I haven’t even started yet.”

Come to think of it, she’d better get on that. Did Amazon deliver to Storybrooke? Because unless Henry wanted a gift that was vintage, online shopping would be her only option.

“Um, you could say that,” Henry answered cryptically. “Killian says to call before you head back to our room, okay?”

Hmmm, that was suspicious. “Okay, whatever you say.” She hung up and looked back at her father with a grin. “Well, looks like I’m on my own for a bit. Have you had breakfast yet?”

David smiled back. “No, I was too worried about my daughter.”

“Well, your daughter’s fine, so how about some of Granny’s pancakes?”

“You’re on.”

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

Emma had lingered over pancakes with David for an hour before Henry called her back. Now she was heading upstairs to their rooms, her curiosity mounting with each step. She could hear Henry’s voice and Hook’s as she reached for the doorknob, but she didn’t announce her presence. They didn’t notice her when she first entered the room, and she froze near the door at the sight before her eyes. Killian saw her first.

“Surprise!” he exclaimed as a beaming smile filled his face. He was wedged between the window and a slender douglas fir. Needles littered the carpet and boxes were stacked haphazardly all around her son and the pirate, boxes of brand new ornaments - balls of red, green, and gold. A strand of colored lights encircled the tree, and Killian’s hook was adjusting a golden star that sat upon the highest bough.

“Mom!” Henry exclaimed. “Isn’t it awesome? I was telling Killian about what I missed about Christmas in New York, so we decided to surprise you. I mean, we can’t have Christmas without a tree.”

Emma was positively speechless, and she knew her mouth was hanging open. Henry’s eyes narrowed with concern.

“I mean, you are surprised, right Mom?”

Emma shook her head and smiled at her son. “Of course I’m surprised. Thrilled.”

“Well,” Killian said brightly, “you’re just in time for the big moment.”

Henry came to stand beside her, slipping his arm around her waist. Killian bent and picked up the end of the cord of lights and plugged it into the nearest outlet. For a moment, the big colored bulbs flickered to light, but then there was a loud pop, sparks flashed from the outlet, and the bottom branches of the tree were suddenly orange with flames. All three of them shouted, and Emma dashed for the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water while Killian yanked the cord out of the wall. He swore loudly as a shock went through his hand. Emma threw the water at the tree. Luckily, only one branch had sparked and the water was enough to put out the flames. Unfortunately, it was enough to trigger the room’s smoke alarm.

Emma tossed aside the water bottle and leapt onto the sofa nearest the alarm. She grabbed her scarf from where she’d discarded it when she came in, and waved it at the alarm. Killian opened the window while Henry tried to wave the smoke outside.

And that was how Granny found them.

“What the hell are you doing to my inn?”

They all answered her simultaneously, shouting over the alarm that was still blaring.

“It’s nothing.”

“The fire’s been doused.”

“It was these old lights!”

Granny crossed her arms to glare at them just as the smoke alarm finally ceased its screeching. Emma dropped the scarf, but she was still on top of the sofa. With her boots on. Killian and Henry still stood sheepishly in front of the window, and a frigid breeze blew through the room.

“I told Killian these lights didn’t look good,” Henry finally spoke up, “but it’s all the drug store had. I mean look at these things, they look like they’ve been sitting on the shelf since 1983.”

They probably had.

“Did I say you could have a tree in here?” Granny demanded.

Hook scratched behind his ear while tossing his most charming grin Granny’s way. “I didn’t think you would deny the boy a proper Christmas.”

Granny deflated at that, then rolled her eyes. “Fine. But no lights, okay. It’s a fire hazard.”

They all mumbled their agreement to the conditions as Granny left, shutting the door firmly behind her. Then they all glanced at one another tentatively. Emma looked at poor Henry’s and Hook’s pitiful expressions, then at the charred bottom corner of the tree, and she suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. It took them a minute, but Henry and Killian joined her merriment. Henry collapsed next to her on the couch, laughing, as Killian shut the window.

“Well,” he told them, a chuckle coloring his voice as he took in the tree, “It’s not too bad, considering we burned half of it.”

Emma wiped away tears of laughter. “You didn’t burn half of it, only about . . . a fifth of it?”

“Not even,” Henry disagreed, “maybe a tenth of it.”

They all dissolved into laughter again, but when Killian joined them on the sofa, Emma sobered. She suddenly remembered the words of the little girl in her vision.

Mama did Daddy really almost burn down Granny’s when he got you a Christmas tree?

Oh, shit.

“You okay, Swan?” Killian asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

It’s okay, Emma, calm down. So he got you a Christmas tree. That caught on fire. At Granny’s. It means nothing. I mean you’d never in a million years buy an ugly Christmas sweater, much less wear one . . . .

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

Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that the other shoe was about to drop. Things had been way too calm the past week, and Emma highly doubted that the Wicked Witch of the West was simply feeling the holiday spirit.

“We’re going to find her, love.”

Emma’s head snapped up at Killian’s words, and he arched a brow at her over the rim of his coffee mug. After taking a sip, he set his coffee down and studied her with an open expression.

“And when we do,” he continued, “you will defeat her.”

Emma snorted. “Why? Because I’m the Savior?”

“No. Because you’re tough and brilliant, and as I said in Neverland, I have yet to see you fail.”

Emma couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks at his praise, and she ran the tines of her fork through the syrup on her breakfast plate. Regina and Robin were taking Roland ice skating, and had asked if Henry wanted to come. Emma was relieved when he had jumped at the invitation. She had never seen such a vulnerable expression on the Evil Queen’s face.

She and Killian were lingering over breakfast in Henry’s absence, nursing their second cups of coffee, and while Emma was slightly surprised at how comfortable it was to be here with him like this, tension still wouldn’t leave the set of her shoulders. It was that damn other shoe - hovering over their heads like a storm cloud.

“I just feel like we should be doing something,” she grumbled, dropping her fork with a clatter.

“We’ve done all we can,” Killian tried to encourage her. “We’ve searched every inch of the forest and found nothing.”

“Then maybe we should interview everyone in town who’s new . . . “ She trailed off as she thought about the mysterious triplets who had already messed with her mind.

“Just enjoy the season, Emma.”

“You’re starting to sound like my parents.”

“Well, you hero types are rubbing off on me I suppose,” he said with a self-deprecating shrug.

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re a hero now, too.”

He lowered his gaze into his cup of coffee. “I’m not so sure about that, love.”

“You came to find me in New York, didn’t you?”

Before he could respond to that fact, Granny appeared in front of their booth holding two Christmas packages in her hands. Emma and Killian exchanged nervous glances, unsure if the woman was still pissed at them over the Christmas tree fiasco.

“I just wanted to say no hard feelings,” Granny told them in her no-nonsense way. “I know you were just trying to give Henry a decent Christmas, and it’s Hooks first in this realm, so . . . Anyway, I got you both something.”

She thrust a rectangular package into Emma’s arms and a square one into Killian’s. Both were wrapped in bright paper and decorated with ribbons and bows. The smile on Killian’s face was filled with childlike wonder as he eagerly made quick work of the wrapping with his hook.

“Did you make this for me, Mrs. Lucas?” Killian exclaimed when he saw the contents of the box.

“Of course I made it. I noticed you didn’t have one, and Maine winters can get mighty cold.”

Emma almost spit her next sip of coffee across the table when Killian pulled a gray wool beanie out of the box. Her jaw almost hit the formica when he actually plopped the beanie onto his head and pulled it down over the tips of his ears. His dark hair curled around the edges of it, and Emma was surprised to find herself thinking how cute he was. Captain Hook was cute. He really, really was, especially with that goofy smile on his face that cut wide dimples into his cheeks. Emma hugged her own gift to her chest.

“Thank you,” Killian humbly told Granny.

The women glanced at Emma, who was almost crushing her gift and didn’t seem to plan on relinquishing it anytime soon. She just couldn’t stop staring at the man across from her.

“Well,” Granny said briskly, “I’ve got things to see to in the kitchen.”

“What do you think?” Killian asked her. “How do I look?”

“It . . . um . . . it covers your ears.”

Killian tugged gently at one side of the hat and then the other. “Well, those tend to get cold the quickest.”

“I like your ears.” Why was she whispering?

She expected him to get cocky and toss some innuendo her way, but instead, he blushed and scratched behind one of those adorable ears of his. “Well, uh, you would be the first.”

“But why? They’re cute!”

“They’re pointed.”

“That’s what makes them cute.”

He was blushing and she loved it. “I got teased as a boy for them.”

“Kids can be mean. Are you part elf by any chance?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

She shrugged. “Around here, you never know.”

“True.” He cleared his throat as he removed the hat. His hair stuck up in all directions, and that was cute too. He gestured towards her gift. “Open yours, love.”

“Oh, right.” She tore off the paper and ribbons, then set the box down on the table. When she lifted the lid, she froze.

“Okay, so that’s . . . interesting,” Killian murmured as he leaned over to see.

Lying there in the box in front of Emma was an ugly Christmas sweater. Of a Christmas tree. With pom pom balls decorating it. Just like in her vision.

“Oh you opened it!” Granny exclaimed as she suddenly appeared at Emma’s side. “I heard they’re all the rage right now.”

“They are?” Killian asked hesitantly. Emma could understand his confusion.

“It’s an ugly Christmas sweater,” she explained.

Killian blanched. “Emma, that’s rude.”

Granny laughed. “No, it’s ugly on purpose, Captain.”

“So this is another tradition of this holiday? To clothe oneself in ugly garments?”

Emma couldn’t help giggling at his confused expression and the way he so eloquently expressed it. “I know it sounds weird, but Granny’s right. People buy the ugliest Christmas sweater they can find, then they go to a party where everyone votes on which one is the ugliest.”

“And Snow and Ruby and I have decided to throw an ugly Christmas sweater party here in the diner on Christmas Eve!” Granny announced with obvious excitement.

“Well, Swan,” Killian told her with a crooked smile, “you might just be a shoe-in for the grand prize.”

Emma’s hands shook and her smile wobbled as she ran her fingers over the green wool. Mama, you have to wear the tree shirt to get the tree. Its ta-dition! Emma remembered her swollen belly straining against the very sweater in front of her, and suddenly the diner felt claustrophobic.

“Excuse me,” she apologized as she leapt up, practically shoved Granny out of the way, and took off down the hall towards the inn. She ignored the cries of concern from both Killian and Granny, not slowing down until she was in her rooms on the third floor. As the door shut behind her, she was glad Henry was gone. She slid to the floor, her legs unable to hold her. First the tree, now the beanie and the ugly Christmas sweater? What the hell was going on?

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

The other shoe had dropped. Emma would have said I told you so, but that seemed a little cruel when they had discovered that The Wicked Witch was her mother’s midwife and had some creepy plans for her baby brother.

She, Regina, and Killian were at the library where Belle was helping them research spells that involved babies. Not Emma’s preferred way to spend the 18th of December. Most people would be attending an office party or caroling or baking cookies, not reading up on creepy things witches like to do to innocent babies.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Emma announced, slamming shut yet another dusty tome. “I want to go back to the inn and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas with Henry while drinking hot cocoa. The exact opposite of this.”

“I agree,” Regina concurred, rubbing wearily at her forehead. “Let’s take a break and reconvene in the morning.”

“Thank God,” Killian added, pushing back from the table and standing up.

They marked their places and stacked the books on a cart for the morning. Then they all donned their winter gear and headed for the door so Belle could lock up. Regina hurried down the snowy sidewalk to her car, but Emma paused as she watched Belle searching for the right key.

“You coming, Swan?” Killian asked, turning as he stepped out on the sidewalk.

“Just a minute. I need to ask Belle something. Can you help Henry get the cocoa and I’ll be there in a bit?”

“As you wish,” he told her softly with a slight bow of his head.

She smiled as he walked away, that phrase never ceasing to make her heart flutter. Then she turned back to Belle.

“Um, could I ask you to look up something for me?” She asked the librarian hesitantly.

“Something else about the witch?”

“Uh, no, this is . . . private.”

“Okay,” Belle said, curiosity coloring her tone.

“There are these triplets,” Emma began, “who came with the new curse, and I need to figure out who they are in the Enchanted Forest. You know, who their . . . fairy tale personas are?”

Belle smiled. “Not everyone is a famous character you know.”

“Believe me, these women are somebody . . . magical. I’ve seen their powers for myself.”

“Is everything alright?” Belle asked with concern.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. They think they’re helping me, I guess. I mean, I think. It’s complicated.”

Her face burned as she stammered, and Emma prayed that Belle wouldn’t press her further.

“Alright, well, who are they? Here in Storybrooke, I mean.”

“Felicity Clotho who owns the new cupcakery, Liv Lachesis the new optometrist, and Avery Atropos, the optometrist’s receptionist.”

Belle’s face broke into a beaming grin. “Why Emma, it’s obvious! Their last names tell us everything: Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, the three fates.”

“As in Greek mythology? You mean that stuff’s all real too?”

Belle laughed. “It sure is. I beat Killian has plenty of stories about run-ins with Poseidon.”

“Great,” Emma muttered with a roll of her eyes, “so we have to deal with Percy Jackson crap too. So what do these fates do?”

“Well, legend says that Clotho spins the thread of each of our lives, Lachesis maintains it, and Atropos cuts the thread when our lives end.”

“I guess I should be glad Avery didn’t cast the spell,” Emma muttered.

“Emma,” Belle said softly, gently touching her arm, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”

For some reason, the librarian's words caused tears to well in Emma’s eyes, and before she knew it, it was all pouring out of her: the cupcake, the candle, waking up without her sight, and what happened at the optometrist’s office. It was embarrassing word vomit, right there in front of the library on the snowy sidewalk, and by the end of it, Belle had her arm around her.

“And it all seemed insane, you know?” Emma finished. “I mean, none of it seemed plausible, but then the tree caught on fire, and Granny gave us those ridiculous gifts, and I don’t know, I’m so confused!”

“Are you?”

Emma choked out a strangled laugh. “I mean, there’s always been this attraction between us, and the man can kiss -” Emma raised a hand when she saw Belle’s eyebrows raise “but attraction and a passionate kiss is one thing. That vision . . . . it’s . . . .”

“A happy ending?” Belle supplied.

“Yeah,” Emma said softly, “and I just don’t know that I believe in that. Happy endings and true love. At least not for me.”

Emma waited for the true love speech from the Disney princess turned town librarian, but instead, Belle pulled her close in a tight hug. For a moment, she didn’t speak, then she pulled back and gave Emma a gentle look.

“I know your early years were full of loneliness and pain, Emma, but those years are in the past. Maybe that’s why Felicity Clothos, the spinner, got involved. Maybe she - and her sister Dr. Lachesis - wanted to give you the gift of hope. If anyone deserves it, Emma, it’s you.”

In some ways, it sounded like something Emma’s mother would say, but it was different coming from Belle. This was from a woman who had suffered so much heartbreak. Heartbreak caused by a man who, in Emma’s opinion, didn’t deserve the love of someone as kind and generous as Belle. Yet here Belle was, encouraging Emma to take hold of the happy ending in front of her.

“You’re a wonderful friend, Belle.”

“So are you, Emma.”

The two women hugged again, and when they stepped apart, Emma crinkled her nose and squinted her eyes with worry.

“Being a good friend means you’ll keep this a secret, right? Especially from my mom?”

Belle threw back her head and laughed. “My lips are sealed.” Then Belle winked at Emma. “Now hurry off to enjoy that cocoa and the man making it.”

“Belle!” Emma exclaimed, her cheeks heating.

She did hurry, though.

[ohmightydevviepuu]

the red queen [1/1]

to @profdanglaisstuff​ for the suggestion; to @katie-dub​ for the gut-check and encouragement; to @thisonesatellite​ for existing.

happy (belated) birthday to a beloved friend.  i feel so lucky that we have found each other.

this is a continuation of my space pirates AU, sanguine, adj. ‘hopeful’.  (it also means bloody).  if the earlier parts were a premise pilot...think of this as a procedural.  shamelessly inspired by “the train job” (firefly 1x02) and “the three-card monte job” (leverage 3x09), because i think i am hilarious (sometimes) and i have a writing crush on john rogers.

proximity alert cell block 1138 a good day

AO3

The man was tall and dark. Broody type, scruffy-looking, but he walked into the bar like he owned it. Slid onto a barstool, let the length of his battered greatcoat hang behind him and looked around with piercing blue eyes that missed nothing. Within two seconds he was followed by a woman, tall and broad, beautiful with black hair that curled and hung nearly to her waist, just above the gun she kept holstered there. Their movements had the ease of old reflex: he walked ahead, ready to encounter whatever might come at them first. She stayed close, but behind, ready to watch his back.

The bartender eyed them warily, watched the man’s gaze take in everything. He turned to the woman and asked, “What’ll you have?”

“Whisky,” she said. “Straight.”

He turned to the man and repeated the question.

“Actually, mate,” the man said, with a wink directed not at the bartender but squarely at the vidcam placed over the bartender’s shoulder. “Is it okay if I just sit here until a gorgeous blonde walks in?”

Will Scarlet spit out his drink, drops splattering on the commscreen in front of him.

Where he was watching them, of course. No way was he letting that cheeky asshole off coms or off cams again. Ever.

Ursula snorted.

The bartender rolled his eyes. “Whatever you want, mate,” he said, pulling a bottle from the counter to pour Ursula’s drink. She threw an extra couple of credits on the bartop and shook her head in commiseration.

But the door opened and in walked an objectively good-looking blonde woman. Her hair was shorter than Ursula’s, a bit awkward really, not that Will knew anything about women’s hair, but it was still closer to Federation regulation-length than anything else and it was tied back in the sort of tight tail that the Feds encouraged for anyone with long hair.

She had green eyes and she stopped when the man’s landed on her, cocking her head and smirking.

“You’re kidding me,” Will muttered, taking another sip of his drink. “Smug bastard.”

“Hello, beautiful,” the man said. The woman stepped up to the bar and the man took her hand in his, bending over it to place a kiss in her palm. “Captain Killian Jones, at your service. Can I offer you a drink?”

The bartender’s jaw dropped.

Ursula shook her head and took another sip of whisky, ignoring the scene playing out next to her.

The woman’s eyes glittered. “Listen, Jones--”

“I prefer ‘Captain’,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I bet you do,” she murmured, leaning closer to him until her head was just above his ear. “Touch me again, Captain, and I’ll have you arrested for assault.”

“Is that a threat?”

The woman brushed her red leather jacket so the flash of metal at her hip gleamed and Will saw the bartender take notice. “It’s a promise.”

So did every other patron of the bar.

“Dammit, Killian,” Will groused.

Emma Swan turned and, with a wink of her own, nodded at Will in the camera. The bartender poured her a shot and turned back to the Captain.

Emma drank off the shot and left.

Will exhaled.

“How’s it going?” Robin Locksley walked up behind him, taking a seat in the co-pilot’s chair of the cockpit.

“You know, the usual,” Will muttered.

“Oh god, oh god, we’re all gonna die?” Robin smiled.

“Not yet,” Will said. “Give it time.”

Killian Jones, Captain, looked at the bartender. “A shot of rum, if you please,” he said, and the bartender sighed. Killian was fiddling with something in his hand as he fumbled for the requisite credits and then all of the blood seemed to drain from his face as he went very still, and very pale.

Next to him, Ursula tensed. Reflex.

She looked quickly to the camera and shook her head and Will drew in a deep breath.

“What’s up?” Rob asked, leaning toward him.

“Dunno.” Will shrugged. “Nothing good. You had to go and jinx it.”

From the end of the bar there was a sound.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

It was slow. It was the dripping water of a faucet.

Killian’s jaw muscle twitched and he turned.

The man had long hair, down to his chin in waves, run through with silver. His moustache and beard framed his mouth and tapered off at the sides.

He had piercing blue eyes.

“Hello, Dad,” Killian said.

Will was silent, his mouth hanging open. Next to him, Robin was still.

Emma’s voice crackled over the comm. “Did he just say--”

“Fuck,” Will said.

--

“Hello, dad,” Killian said, keeping his voice calm but feeling the twitch in his jaw and the itch in his fingers. He willed himself to be still, to look the man square in the eye for the first time in--

“I got a out, you know,” Brennan Jones said. “A while ago, in fact.”

Twenty years.

That’s how long it had been since his father left.

“Didn’t see you, though, at the prison colony spaceport waiting to pick me up in that fancy ship of yours,” Brennan said.

Twenty years since Brennan had left, twelve years since he had got caught running cons and games on rich marks on the central planets. The Federation, as Killian knew only two well, did not take kindly to larceny and thieving unless they were the ones doing both and Brennan had been caught, tried--and shipped off to ‘Neverland’.

They said it was a place where time stood still for its inmates, stuck while the world passed them by.

Twenty years.

“Yeah,” Killian said. “Yeah, I was kind of busy. Visiting my mother’s grave, you know. Visiting Liam’s grave.”

Brennan clucked his tongue in a noise that made Killian cringe. A noise that haunted his dreams on his bad nights, of his father’s disapproval, his indifference. Killian hated that noise and hated even more that it still held sway over him.

“All your life,” Brennan said, “you thought you were better than me. Never showed any respect.”

“What, exactly, did you do to deserve respect?” Killian said.

Twenty years, but Brennan still knew about the Jolly Roger, knew where to find him, knew exactly what buttons to push and strings to pull to make Captain Killian Jones feel like an angry child.

What else did he know?

Brennan turned to Ursula and said, with a tip of his head in affected gallantry, “Would you give us a moment? I’d like to talk to my son, here. My good-form, never-break-the-rules-son. Look at him now, yeah? Nothing but his own personal balls-and-bayonets brigade, living off the raggedy edge on the wrong side of the law. Nothing but a pirate, a criminal like his old man.”

Ursula ignored him, looked at Killian. Killian nodded. “Head back. We still have a job to do.”

His hand tightened around the crinkled piece of paper Emma had passed him.

The one with the name of their contact on this job.

Brennan Jones.

He thought of her and he tried to summon the feel of her fingers against his skin as if it would give him strength or hope or succor.

Maybe it did. Ursula’s eyes were black stones of judgment as Killian ran his hand through his hair and met her gaze and then, finally, she nodded.

“Pleasure meeting you,” Brennan called to her retreating back. “Now, about that job--”

--

“Run it,” Killian growled, his voice low and weary.

Emma looked around the cockpit, from Will to Robin to Nemo to Ursula and even to Ariel, who fidgeted visibly, more uncomfortable than Emma had ever seen her.

Whale stood off to the side, his arms crossed, shaking his head.

“Maybe we should discuss it first,” Emma said. “I know I feel a little weird--”

It was more than weird. It was downright uncomfortable. For the first time since she’d stayed with Killian, with the Jolly Roger and its crew, she was unsettled.

(Former) Federation Operative Emma Swan did not do unsettled.

“I don’t.” Killian bit down on the consonants, hard, each one clipped and harsh and as if they were spoken by a stranger. “Come on, Scarlet.”

“Sir--”

“Killian, sometimes you just need to stop and question--” Emma and Will spoke at the same time but then he stopped and looked at her. Emma took a breath and said, “Sometimes you just need to stop and think for a minute--”

“What is this, mutiny? An insurrection?” His eyes hardened. “Don’t ever tell me what to do on my--” Emma hissed, a warning, and Killian took a deep breath. “It’s a job like any other.”

If keystrokes could have emotions, Will’s were angry.

“Stop looking at him as my father,” Killian said.

“Can you?” Emma asked, walking up to him and putting her hand on his cheek.

He jerked away.

“But this isn’t, as you say, a ‘job like any other’,” Nemo pointed out. He was the only one in the galley who looked relaxed, his posture upright as always but with an air of ease that Emma desperately wished she felt. “And not because of who he is. Because of why he’s here.” Nemo gestured at the screen Will had projected on the wall and turned toward Emma. “What’s your professional opinion here, Operative Swan?”

Will had brought up a list of the charges against Brennan Jones: theft, fraud, bribery, smuggling, all across multiple systems.

Child endangerment.

Child abandonment.

Emma looked at Killian.

Killian looked away.

“No way he’s out of Neverland after only twelve years,” Emma said. “So--” her eyes were still on Killian “--trap?”

“Aye,” he said. His eyes flashed with relief and his jaw muscle relaxed. “Set up by someone else to do the dirty work. Blackmail, maybe. That’s how a lot of the big syndicates do things now. Quasi-government entities, some of them. Don’t want the dirty work putting them on the Feds’ radar and interfering with their legit scams. Keeps the blood off their hands.”

“So what’s Brennan’s game here, Captain?” Ursula asked.

Robin scrubbed a hand down his face and drew in a deep breath. “I imagine he’s got a chess board set up just like yours, sir.”

Killian’s answering look was murderous. “More like three-card monte. Keep the cards moving until he’s ready for you to see the queen.”

“Nah, he’s the one on the move.” Will turned around in his chair.

“How in the bloody hell do you know that?” Killian snapped.

“Facial scan, sir.” Will glared. “I tagged him and put my web-crawlers to work on the Cortex. And he just got a call. Sounds like he’s got sources planted across the world, and this one’s tapped into a Fed outpost. Core access across the entire sector, including SOS, maintenance, alarms. Brennan’s pushing him to tamper with it, cross the signals or some such.” Will squinted at his screen and crossed his hands behind his neck. “Your dad, he is not a nice man, is he? Must run in the family.”

The galley was, for one interminable moment, silent.

Robin smacked Will across the back of his head.

“Captain? What’s our play?” Ursula asked.

“Um, I have a question?” Ariel raised her hand. Emma stifled a laugh, and Ursula sighed. “If Brennan did all of these terrible things, blackmail and the like, why did he come here and hire us? If he’s so bad--”

“--what are they using against him,” Emma finished. “Against us. You.” Everything Killian cared about--was here. On the ship.

It was Nemo who answered. “This is about Liam?”

“Isn’t he--” Robin started to say, but stopped.

Dead. Liam Jones was dead, killed in the operation that Killian had fled with the Jewel of the Realm.

Slowly, minutely, Killian nodded.

“You think someone has your little brother?” Nemo spoke slowly in a soothing tone, as if for a small child.

Whale nearly fell over. “The hell--?”

Emma felt her mouth open. She closed it.

Unsettled. She did not like it. She did not like not having all of the information queued up and ready for her and this was something she should have known.

Something Killian should have told her.

A quick glance around the galley suggested that she was not the only one for whom this news was a revelation. She looked at Ursula, who blinked in surprise and looked at Will, who shrugged and looked at Robin, who shook his head. In unison, they all turned to look at Nemo.

“Younger,” Killian corrected him softly, almost as a reflex. “Aye.”

Nemo had eyes only for Killian, his eyes full of care and concern and quiet authority.

“Killian,” Nemo said. “It’s not your job to take down your own father.”

Emma took two steps across the galley and reached for Killian again.

This time, he did not pull away.

“You’re right about that,” Killian said. “It’s my gorram pleasure.”

His fingers tightened around Emma’s until she couldn’t feel them anymore.

--

“Killian, I don’t think we have enough information on your fa--on this guy. Not yet,” Emma said.

There were other things she could say. Maybe too many other things.

How Brennan had found them.

Killian’s younger brother, Liam Jones.

What Nemo knew that she didn’t.

But she didn’t say any of them. Not yet.

They stood out on the pavement in the middle of the city, or near enough--a city that was just big enough to boast the kind of multi-level skyscraper that was normally more prevalent across the Core worlds, but not so big that any of the buildings were in particularly good repair. They stood in the middle of a fair bit of traffic--pedestrians, land speeders, even personal shuttles buzzing in the sky for the gentry who wanted to show off, but not so much or so little that the five of them and their two Mules were memorable.

Emma, Killian, Ursula, Ariel and Robin stood in front of a building rendered completely invisible by virtue of its resemblance to every other building.

“We don’t even know if this is the right place,” Emma said.

Will’s snort made the earpiece crackle and Emma winced.

“I’m sure,” Will said. There was a beep in the background and Will’s voice was serious this time. “Okay, I think I may have an ID on a potential bad guy.”

“We’ve got the bad guy, Scarlet,” Killian said.

Which was part of the problem, as far as Emma was concerned. Brennan had backup and Killian’s instincts seemed to come from a pretty deep gene pool and that made Brennan one very dangerous guy with potentially more dangerous allies. Emma looked at Ursula, who shrugged.

Ursula was always going to back Killian’s play; well, so would Emma.

“Whatever you say, sir, but this guy Jefferson Chepalier has an interesting story to tell. They say he’s some kind of magician, just making things disappear from one place and appear in another. Weapons, credits, pharmaceuticals--you name it, he’s moved it.”

Nemo’s voice chimed in. “I’ve heard of him. Even the Federation is one of his clients.”

Robin’s eyebrows went up in silent admiration and Emma sighed. “I’ve heard of him, too,” she said. “He knows a lot of the right people in a lot of the right places.”

What did Nemo know?

Why hadn’t Killian told them?

Why hadn’t Killian told her?

“Well, seems like they had a bit of an ugly breakup,” Will said. “Busted last month and lost twenty million in merchandise.”

“Sounds like the kind of guy who could get someone out of Neverland,” Emma said.

“Sounds like the kind of guy who needs a big score,” Robin said. “Guys that desperate--”

“Yeah, it’s bad,” Emma agreed.

“Speaking of bad,” Will said. “Here’s some bad news: the system here is old-school. Too antiquated for me to tunnel in and hack.”

Emma rolled her shoulders and moved her neck from one side to the other. But this was nothing they hadn’t expected.

“I didn’t know some of these specs even existed anymore.” Will sounded offended, as though he expected more from his adversaries. “Getting into this would be like hacking a museum exhibit.”

“Which you’ve done,” Robin said.

“Nothing you can prove,” Will said. “In fact--”

Ariel giggled.

“In fact,” Killian interrupted, “it means we’re not going to able to stop him.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It means we’re going to have to help him. Just like he planned.”

“We’re on it,” Ursula said as Emma pulled a pair of cuffs out of her inner jacket pocket and stepped toward Robin.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Will said. “You just--happened to have those on you?”

Emma rolled her eyes.

“Do you always have those on you?” Will asked. “Because--” he paused, presumably watching Emma put the cuffs on Robin “--you are weirdly comfortable doing that.”

“Don’t I know it,” Killian muttered.

Ariel’s mouth dropped open.

“Ariel.” Ursula brought her back to focus. “You’re going in the back. Hook us in manually.”

“And Scarlet,” Emma said, “you keep your mouth shut unless you want me giving Belle pointers when she gets back from Persephone.”

There was an intake of breath over the comm and Killian said, “Shut up, Scarlet.”

“Okay, but--” Robin was resigned as the cuffs clinked into place “--what are we doing here, exactly?”

“All the alarms for the entire Andromache system run through this building,” Will said. “Banks. Private homes. Government systems. Transpo networks. Everything. My guess, Brennan wants to control which alarms get through and which don’t.”

“It’s what I would do,” Killian said. He did not look happy about it.

“It isn’t,” Emma said. “You wouldn’t have gotten us here in the first place.” She wanted to reach for him, to take his hand, to press a soothing palm against his cheek. But she had Robin Locksley in her handcuffs and, apparently, the fate of Killian’s heretofore-unknown younger brother in their hands.

Killian didn’t answer. Didn’t look at any of them, just stared upward at the facade of the building they were about to infiltrate.

“Sir?” Ursula prompted. “We don’t have to do this.”

“We’re the only ones who can,” he said. “Anchors aweigh.”

Emma looked at Ursula, who nodded and gave Robin a shove as they went through the doors.

--

Not only was (former) Federation Operative Emma Swan weirdly comfortable using handcuffs, Robin Locksley was weirdly okay about being cuffed. The whole thing was really weird, Will decided.

At least until--

“Can we hurry up? Being handcuffed in a Fed outpost is a recurring bloody nightmare of mine.”

Never mind, Will thought.

“Scarlet,” Ursula said. “How do we look?”

Will tapped a few keys and leaned forward to peer at the screen. “We will rule over all of this land,” he said. “And we will call it--’This Land’.”

Ariel chirped, “That’s a good thing, right? We’re shiny?” She was breathing slightly heavily from inside a crawlspace, where she had physically tapped the network while Emma, Ursula and Robin distracted the Feds.

“Means we’re tapped into every piece of wire and tech running through that place. We can block alarms, we can set alarms, we can track alarms, all through our own comms network. Nice work--very shiny.”

Ariel clapped her hands in glee.

“Now get the bloody hell out of there--”

The comms broke squelch with a burst of feedback so sharp Will had to shut down the system for eighty-three seconds.

And Killian, that rat bastard, did it on purpose.

Urusla’s voice was the first to break through when he got them back online. “Scarlet?” She was, as ever, sharp and focused. “Where is he?”

“He’s gone,” Emma said, sounding certain.

“Seriously?” Robin said.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

--

“So,” Killian said, “let me tell you what I did.”

He was back in the bar, where Brennan Jones did not seem at all surprised to see him. Papers were spread out across a table in the corner and the bartender kept deliberately not looking their way.

Brennan smirked. “Oh, I already know what you did,” he said. “You let my repairman loose, fine. You think I don’t have another contact? You really think you can beat me? You’re not tough enough. You’re not ruthless enough. You don’t have what it takes, even with your interference--”

“Using a civilian was a dumb brute-force move.” Killian pulled his earpiece out of his ear and a small black box out of his pocket and held them up. “Rigged to the Fed systems. I control it now. I can destroy it. You were saying?”

“Well.” Brennan looked, for the first time, surprised. “That’s--well.”

“You’ve done your homework. You know that I stole the fastest ship in the fleet right out from under the Federation’s nose, so you should also know that I broke into Robert Gold’s space station and broke back out again. Severed his hold on the Federation council. Walked away after he tortured me. If I can do that, imagine what I could to you.”

All of that was true and yet--it had been easier to be tough in front of Gold than it was in front of his own father. He’d been doing that for Emma.

He wished she was here.

They were better as a team.

But she didn’t need to be a part of this. Not this. Killian didn’t want Brennan Jones even looking at her. More importantly, he didn’t want Brennan’s allies--whomever they were--knowing who she was.

“I did my homework too, dad. Where’s Liam?”

Brennan cleared his throat. “You’re being a wise guy with me?”

“What was it you used to say? ‘You’re too much of a planner, Killian. You have to be tougher to survive’. You’re so tough, prove it.”

Besides, Killian Jones always had a plan.

Behind him, Killian heard the sound of an old-fashioned revolver being cocked. He was, for a second, disappointed.

So predictable.

He looked around, started to turn--

Was stopped by an elbow to the back of his head.

After that, blackness.

--

“How long until we hit Paradiso?” Killian asked.

The train whipped through the countryside on the mag-lev track and Emma checked the map on her screen. “Another twenty minutes,” she said. “You should be at the foothills in five.”

“You’re sure?” Robin asked for the twentieth time. “You’re sure this was the plan?”

“He’s sure,” Emma and Ursula spoke at the same time, for all that Ursula was down on the train with Killian and Emma was in the cockpit of the Jolly Roger.

She wanted to be with him.

They were better as a team.

But that wasn’t the plan, and she was part of something now--part of a crew.

“Saw the maps,” Killian reminded them. “Had blueprints laid out for house party on Boros--some gentry have got a Lassiter there.”

“I’ve always wanted one of those,” Ariel said wistfully.

“Next time,” Killian said. For the first time in days Emma thought she detected a smile in his words. “And then there was a set for a hospital on Athens,” Killian said.

“Too much work. Not enough payoff,” Nemo murmured.

“Exactly,” Killian said.

“Three-card monte,” Emma said. “He wanted you to see.”

“Exactly,” Killian said again, and smiled this time.

“What’s the cargo?” Ursula wanted to know.

“No clue,” Killian said. “But since Chepelier was there--save the speech for later, Scarlet--I’d reckon it’s something that will get him his twenty mil back. And I’ll have some words for him about hitting me when we meet.”

“Something that requires an entire Fedsquad sitting on this train,” Ursula said.

“Not an entire squad, Ursula,” Killian said. “Just a few. Just enough to make it fun.”

“When those alarms go off,” Emma said, “it’s gonna be Armageddon.”

“That’s the idea, love,” Killian reminded her.

“Yeah,” Emma said. “Only I think you have a bit of a problem with your brain being missing.” She paused for a beat and then said, seriously, “Killian, it’s not too late to sit this one out.”

Behind her, Emma felt Nemo’s hand on her shoulder. He squeezed.

Killian didn’t answer. He said, “Start flying with the hatch open. Keep her steady, Locksley.”

There were no guards in the train car, just stacks of crates and baggage. Killian went in first and Urusla followed, sliding the door mostly shut behind them but leaving it slightly ajar as Ursula turned to fiddle with a canister she pulled from her satchel and the wires hidden in the door panel. Killian moved toward the center of the car, waiting for Ursula to hand him the screw gun.

He stopped and examined a particular stack of crates and then began to climb them, gently, stopping when he could reach the ceiling. Three corrugated iron panels stood between them and the open sky and soon there was not even that, as Killian put the gun to one of the rivets in the center panel and triggered it.

It made a sickening noise and Killian winced.

“Find the cargo,” he said.

“Thanks for the reminder, sir,” Ursula said.

Killian smirked and pulled the gun down, removing the rivet stuck in it before starting on the next, moving methodically from one to another until the last one is free and he lowered the panel as gently as the could.

It made a bit of a clatter, and Killian winced.

“Sir--” Ursula called, pointing at a stack of boxes.

“Shiny,” Killian whispered. “Brilliant. Get it over here.”

He had barely finished speaking when the net dropped into the hole in the roof of the train.

“Fifteen seconds,” Emma said.

The canister popped just when the wire pulled.

Immediately, there was a ringing noise that echoed through the train car.

“Alarms are set,” Scarlet said, his voice grim. “Feds on your door and Brennan--”

“I’ll worry about Brennan,” Killian said as the door opened fully and the gas released by Ursula’s canister blinded the Fed sent to investigate. With movements both precise and brutal, Killian disarmed him and had him on the ground, unconscious, in seconds.

He and Ursula closed the door behind them just as the comm started blaring and the train began to slow as they pulled into Paradiso.

--

Brennan Jones walked up to the makeshift processing site outside of Paradiso.

It was utter chaos.

Every person around him was screaming into a comm. “What do you mean, we’ve got another alarm call--a third one?!!--multiple code ones at the following sites--roll out--send backup--every available unit!”

It was the house party full of gentry on Boros that sweetened the deal. Feds wouldn’t normally roll out for a bunch of hicks coming in from Hancock. Alarms going off on Boros, on Athens, across Regina--that was a different story.

All hail the might Federation, though it was a shame about the Lassiter. That would fetch a tidy fortune on the black market.

Next time.

--

(Former) Federation Operative Emma Swan walked into the makeshift processing site the locals had set up outside Paradiso.

Where the train had stopped.

After some thieves put a hole in the roof.

It was utter chaos, every person around her screaming into a comm, Feds literally walking in circles--

Except for the poor, understaffed local constabulary, who had been left to deal with the passengers.

Killian and Ursula were off to the side, cuffed and under the watchful eyes of someone who looked like a local sheriff. He looked tired, and frustrated--was likely both of those things, now the Feds were off the train and in his backyard--and did not manage to keep his sigh inaudible as she approached.

Emma flashed her badge fast enough that the lawman wouldn’t be able to get a good look at the code designation that was now invalid. She gave him a half-grin as she did so, carefully calculated.

Empathetic. Brisk. Efficient.

Not here to ruin his day.

She was here to save it, in fact, but he had no way of knowing that.

“You Nolan?” she asked, and he gave her a wan smile. “I’m Swan.”

--

Brennan watched the scene playing out before him.

“No, I can’t send confirmation,” a particularly harried ensign snapped. “This is an all-network alert! Cargo theft--”

Brennan hovered genially near the harried-looking ensign, a petite woman with her hair tied in a regulation-style knot, and smile the kind of smile that was warm enough but completely unmemorable as he waved a datapad in the air with a kind of ‘what can you do’ shrug.

The ensign barely spared him a glance before waving him away, his presence already accounted for and forgotten, and Brennan inched closer to the train, where he was met by a tall blonde man in a uniform who asked, bored, “Status?”

Brennan handed the datasheet over, a transfer order flickering across its surface.

“You’re expecting me,” Brennan said. “Evidence transfer.”

“That’s right, you bastard,” Will muttered at his tablet. “Captain, are you sure--”

“You know the plan, Will.”

“We could just tell the Feds--”

“Oh, I’ve got him,” Killian said. “Gonna look him in the eye when he goes down.”

“Evidence transfer,” the blonde man said, frowning as he looked at the datasheet. “About that--”

He stopped as Ariel, her hair out of its knot, came up behind Brennan Jones, tapped him on the shoulder, and punched him.

Victor Whale pulled off his uniform cap and winced. Ariel was tiny, but she packed a right hook like a freight train.

“Ooooooof,” Will murmured.

--

Emma thought she heard the sheriff mutter about gorram time but not loud enough she had to acknowledge it. “You know there’s a whole spate of robberies across the system today,” she said casually. “Alarms going off anywhere.”

Implied: you’re lucky I showed up at all.

“Rumor has it they were after millions,” Nolan said. “You here for evidence holding?”

Emma only just managed to keep the sneer off of her face.

“Evidence holding”. That’s what the Feds were calling it now.

Emma shrugged. “Above my paygrade. I’m just here for those two.” She nodded with her chin at Ursula and Killian.

“I knew something about his story smelled,” he said, shaking his head and checking his datapad for the passenger manifest.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Emma said, sending a surreptitious wink toward Killian. “It’s not the only thing about him that does.”

In her earpiece she heard him chuckle.

“They’ve been bound?”

“Not yet,” Nolan said. “I--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emma said. “You just get the rest of these citizens back on this train and on their way. I’ll take care of them.”

--

Ariel shrugged and ducked as Brennan made a pass at Whale and she pulled out a tranq gun--

“That’s enough, Ariel,” Killian said, walking up behind them, a cuff dangling from one wrist while he worked the other free. “It’s going to end right here, dad. You ready? Let me tell you what I did.”

“How did you know?” Brennan looked--bemused.

Almost impressed.

Killian reached into his greatcoat pocket and removed a small black box wired to an earpiece.

“Let’s try this one more time, shall we?”

--

“What’s the trick to three-card monte?” Killian asked, advancing on his father. “The red queen’s never even on the table. But it was a nice move, dad, knocking me out. Letting me deduce your plan. I didn’t even need this--” he held up the black box, pulled from his pocket “--to get inside your head. And all the time, you’re playing me. Playing my crew.”

Ursula, Ariel and Whale stood behind him and Will laughed at the screen. Big damn heroes.

“You tried to make me a pawn in your game. You tried to make Liam a pawn in your game. But here’s the thing, dad: you’re only a pawn if you don’t know you’re being played. And I always know. You taught me that.”

“Twenty million is a lot of money, Killian,” Brennan said.

Killian exhaled a laugh through his nostrils. “It’s not about the money. It never was. You’re not working for Jefferson Chepelier. You’re working around him, trying to get the bigger score. Get his merchandise to a better buyer, the kind of buyer who will pay top dollar and let you sail off into the black forever. A buyer like Cora Hart.”

Brennan stilled and Killian smiled.

“My people are going to take down Chepelier and Cora Hart. We have your cargo. What was it you always used to say?” Killian’s mouth contorted as he imitated his father’s voice. “‘You’re too much of a planner, son.’”

Killian leaned forward, his hands resting on his belt.

“The cargo is already on the way to a contact of ours,” he said. “Because if you’d done your planning, father, you’d have known that I have certain understandings in place between my crew and the Federation Council. And Regina Mills. You’ve heard of her, right? Cora Hart’s daughter? She was thrilled to get her hands on this kind of leverage against Cora.”

“What about your brother?”

“What about him? He was never in danger, not from you, and not from Chepelier,” Killian said. “Just another jack being shuffled--a distraction--but he’s safe. Far away from you and now with the protection of a pirate--” Killian bit the word “--and a Federation Councillor. You’re never getting near him again, and any minute now, the Feds are gonna come and--”

“--arrest both of us,” Brennan said.

“What for?” Killian held up his still-cuffed wrist. “I’ve sent the cargo on already and I have an alibi.”

“I’m not going back to Neverland,” Brennan said.

“That’s fine.” KIllian pulled a gun from his jacket pocket. Ariel made a sound like a sad cat, mewl. Whale swore under his breath.

“You can’t do this,” Brennan said, and chuckled. “I could, but you’re your mother’s son.”

Killian cocked the gun at the exact second Ursula said, simply, “Sir?”

And he looked at her.

Looked at Ariel, at Whale.

Looked up into the camera and Will sighed.

“Let him go, Killian,” he heard Emma whisper. “I’ve got your back. We’ve got your back.”

Killian hesitated; his hand shook and Emma wished so desperately she could take it in hers, put her thumb against his wrist and press a gentle, calming circle there.

“Killian,” Emma said, “be a better man than your father.”

--

Brennan Jones stood at the edge of the station along the train tracks but the train had, literally, already left the station.

Emma Swan walked toward him with Nemo keeping stride, Sheriff Nolan walking ahead of them both.

“Brennan Jones,” Nolan drawled, “you are bound by law.”

Brennan’s eyes widened in startled recognition as he looked at Emma and he smiled.

“Am I though?” he laughed. “Am I really? Check your codes again, Sheriff. She’s not a Fed, or whatever she says she is--she’s a thief.”

“Ran it twice,” Nolan said. “She’s clear.”

“Go ahead, Sheriff,” Nemo said. “One more time. We don’t mind. Authorization code one-zero-two-six. Scorpio.”

With a put-upon shrug Nolan swiped across the datapad and held it up. Federation Operative Emma Swan flashed across the screen with a photo and an arrest warrant. Emma enjoyed watching him as it hit him, the blood draining from his face and his tongue darting out to lick his lip. Brennan ran a hand through his hair in a gesture uncannily like Killian.

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in quite the robbery, Mr. Jones,” Sheriff Nolan said. “I’ve got orders here to put you in custody and send you back to--” his eyes widened and he clucked his tongue against his teeth as he shook his head “--Neverland. Well.”

“I didn’t do it,” Brennan said, pointing a finger at Emma. “I’m innocent.”

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically and shared a smirk with the sheriff. “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Everyone’s innocent in Neverland.”

“Sheriff,” Brennan was pleading. “She’s not who she says she is. She’s a--”

Nemo grabbed his arm and twisted it, making Brennan wince.

“My own son,” Brennan said. “More ruthless than me. Crueler than me.” His eyes hardened and something unpleasant glittered in his irises. “You tell my son,” he muttered. “You tell my him--”

Emma turned away, waving at Nolan to step forward with the cuffs.

“--tell him I’m proud of him.”

Emma turned back. “Enjoy Neverland.”

--

Killian exhaled as he turned the ship’s wheel, piloting the Jolly Roger out of orbit and closer to the surface of Persephone. Emma stood behind him, looking out the cockpit windshield. The sun was setting and it refracted through the atmo.

“Well, that’s a joyful sight,” Killian muttered, looking up at Emma.

“Gotta love a sunset,” she sighed.

“That too,” he said. And winked.

“Almost like coming home,” Emma said, her fingers scratching and lazy at the back of his neck. He shivered.

Home.

She was his home. This was his family.

“We sniff the air,” he reminded her. “We don’t kiss the dirt.”

“Noted, Captain,” she said. “But I wasn’t planning on the dirt-kissing. Sir.”

“I wouldn’t stand for it anyways,” Killian said. He locked the wheel into place and pushed back in his seat, smiling up at her the entire time as lightness rushed through his body. “Jealous man like me.”

“Hey--eyes front, please,” Robin said, walking in and making a face. “Planet’s coming up a mite fast. You’re coming down too quick. Likely gonna crash and kill us all.”

Killian stood up and pulled Emma’s hand into his. His eyes never left hers.

“That happens,” he said to Robin, “let me know.”

--

“Hey,” Emma whispered, pushing the fringe off of Killian’s forehead as he opened one bleary, sleepy eye and stared at her. They were a tangle of limbs and sheets in the berth. “You were some kind of hero today, Jones.”

He nuzzled into her hand and wrapped her more tightly against him. “Mmmmm.”

It was not agreement.

“Trust me, you have a mark in the hero column,” Emma said, bending so her lips brushed against his ear. “Killian?”

“Mmmm?”

“Will you tell me about him, someday?” Killian’s eyes opened, both of them, and he stared at her in surprise. “Your younger brother?”

He stilled and then exhaled, a brush of warmth against her palm. “Aye, love. Someday. But not today, yeah?”

Emma snuggled herself against him, dropping her head to his shoulder. “Someday,” she agreed.

They had all the time in the world.

--30--

@quirkykayleetam​

[sometimesiwritebadly]

The Lost Girl (Part 3)

Chapter Summary: In the past, Raven confronts Killian and Liam for the first time in years. In the present, Raven and Hook begin working together to save David from the dreamshade poison.

Notes: lmao remember that time i said it wouldn’t be long until the next chapter? that was funny. also ao3 saw it first

Warnings: Language, brief mention of suicide

Word Count: 1.9k

Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

~~~ A Very Long Time Ago ~~~

Raven really didn’t want to do this. She was hiding behind some bushes, watching Liam and Killian make the journey up to dead man’s peak, searching for the deadly dreamshade. She knew she had to convince them not to take the plant back to the Enchanted Forest, but confronting the two of them would mean admitting some of her deepest secrets. Killian, assuming he hasn’t grown out of his inquisitive nature, would have hundreds of questions. But Liam...she knew for a fact what he’d ask. “Why did you leave me Talia? Did I mean nothing to you?” She could practically hear him say it, with his ocean blue eyes filled with pain. Liam had meant so much to her, and she to him...Raven would never admit it to anyone, but in a better world, she would’ve happily married him.

Raven watched as they got closer and closer to the dreamshade, the brothers talking about their encounter with Pan. She took a deep breath, then appeared in front of Liam, blocking the path. Liam had his sword in front of him, using it to clear away any plants in their way. When he spotted her, he didn’t lower it.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice laced in anger. Ouch. Killian took a much kinder approach.

“Is it really you, Talia? How can this be?” Raven had to resist letting a smile overcome her face. He was still so kind, after all this time.

“It’s Raven now. I, uh, I took a new name. When I left the ship.” She took a deep breath, gathering more courage before continuing, “It really is me, though. No one ages on Neverland...I had no idea it had been so long until I recognized you.” Liam finally yielded, putting his sword away, but his hardened face showed no emotion at Raven’s explanation.

“Tal -” Killian stopped himself, before continuing without the use of her name, “We thought you were dead...we thought you’d - How did you even get here? Why did you never come back? Why'd you leave?” There it was, all the questions that Raven did not want to answer. Instead, she changed the topic to what she had really come for.

“It doesn’t matter. I came to tell you that you can’t take the dreamshade back to the Enchanted Forest. It’s too dangerous.” Her comment only made Liam scoff.

“Nice try Raven ,” He said, mocking the name, “But your suitor already tried. And I don’t mean to offend, but I’d rather believe my king than a traitor like yourself.”

Raven tried not to let his comment affect her, instead trying again to persuade him. “Look, you don’t need to forgive me. After today, you never need to see me again. Just trust me one last time-”

“Trust you? You abandoned us! How can I trust you? You know-” He paused for a moment, taking a menacing step towards Raven, “I wish you had walked off the plank like we thought for all those years. At least then I could remember you as a friend, instead of knowing the truth of your bad form.”

Killian’s eyes widened at his comment, and at the fury that was appearing in Raven’s eyes. He took a step back from the pair, sensing the argument would only get more heated.

Raven began yelling this time. “Bad form? The only bad form here is trying to win a war for a ruthless, idiotic king by cheating! You have absolutely no idea what I was going through on that ship-”

Liam cut her off once more, yelling even louder than she, “Yes I do! I know exactly what you were going through because you were my best friend! I told you everything and you did the same! I thought we had a future, but you - Did you even care for me at all?   Did you not think for one moment how you leaving would affect me?

“You know what,” Raven began walking away from the brothers as she spoke, “Go ahead! Kill everyone with the dreamshade. Kill the other army, kill your own army, kill yourselves with it! May the last thing you think of when the poison takes over your heart be regret. You can die thinking about how the traitor Talia was right! ” With her final words, she disappeared from their sight, heading back to camp.

~~~ Present Day ~~~

“How are you holding up, mate?” Hook asked David, who was very obviously struggling as they walked.

“Just fine. Perfect. Why would anything be wrong.” David replied, glancing back at Raven as he tried to appear in perfect health.

“Yeah, you don’t need to fake it. I know you’ve been poisoned by dreamshade.” Raven said, making David stop walking and look at Hook with anger.

“You told her?!”

“He didn’t have to, mate. It’s obvious to anyone familiar with the side effects.” Despite Raven’s assurance that Hook hadn’t broken what little trust David had put in him, the prince felt no need to apologize, instead answering Hook’s original question.

“Don't worry about me. Just worry about getting us to the sextant.”

“As entertaining as that was, I wasn’t talking about the poison. I meant the good-byes. Looked a bit stormy back there.” David began walking again, letting the other two follow behind him.

“I did what had to be done, and I did it out of love. Emma and Mary Margaret will understand that.” He explained, before stopping once more at a nearby tree.

“I hate to break it to you, but-” Raven started, before Hook cut her off.

“You’re gonna tell them that from beyond the grave.” He said, earning a glare from the girl.

David looked at the two of them once more before correcting, “No. You are. You two are gonna tell them that I died a hero, fighting for their way home. What you're not gonna tell them is that I left already a dead man.”

“You don’t think your family deserves the truth?” Raven asked.

“What do you know of family?” Hook muttered, although he made no effort to hide the comment from Raven. In return, Raven hit his arm as hard as she could.

David, ignoring the childish exchange, answered Raven’s question. “Their last memories of me won't be of a liar.”

“Why should I help you?” Hook asked. Raven was surprised at his question, considering the whole point of this journey was to save David’s life.

David chuckled at the question before answering, “Well, if you didn't steal that bean, they wouldn't have had a chance to take Henry, we wouldn't be on this island, and I wouldn't be dying of dreamshade.”

“Nice going, Hook.” Raven muttered. This time, Hook hit her arm.

“Fair point.” He replied to David, “At least you got to say good-bye. Most people don't get that much.” David paused for a moment, before looking back at Hook. Hook kept walking, taking the lead before David spoke again.

“You lost someone, didn't you?” Hook glanced at Raven for just a single moment before ignoring David’s question. If David noticed the exchange, he didn’t say anything.

“This is where we ascend. I'll climb ahead and throw down the rope.” Raven looked up at the peak, remembering the horrible day she had been there with Hook and Liam. David and Hook kept arguing as Hook began to climb up, but she didn’t pay much attention. She wished more than anything she could go back, make her last words to Liam anything other than what she had said.

~~~ A Very Long Time Ago ~~~

When Raven returned to the Lost Boy’s Camp, she was fuming. Their numbers were few, as Pan had only recently begun recruiting people to permanently stay on the island, so there was plenty of room for the Lost Boys to stay the hell away from Raven as she stormed about. She was muttering to herself, complaining about how “Liam think’s he’s all that,” and “Of course he became a fucking Captain,” and how, “He’s just some king’s little bitch.”  

When Pan noticed his Raven’s mood, he turned to Felix for answers.

“I think she talked to the adults that showed up earlier.” Was the only answer Felix had for him.

“Well I knew that much, you idiot-”

“I can hear you two!” Raven snapped, cutting off Pan. Pan winced, turning around to see Raven staring right at them. He sent Felix off with a look, before walking over towards the girl.

“So..care to explain?” He asked, sitting next to Raven on a log.

“They’re idiotic adults who are going to end up killing their entire country-”

“Not that, Raven. Clearly you know them.”

Raven sighed, looking down at her hands before telling the truth. “We lived on that ship together. They were my friends. Now they’re idiotic adults who would rather trust some dumb king than their oldest friend.”

“You lived on the- you said there weren’t any boys on the ship!” Pan exclaimed, remembering the first night he met Raven. When she glared at him, he conceded. “But that’s not important now….you tried your best to tell them the truth. It’s up to them now.”

“I just want them off the island. As soon as possible.” This made Pan grin. Sounds like a good game, and Pan loves a game.

“Now that, I can do for you.”

~~~ Present Day ~~~

Raven and David watched as Hook climbed up the mountain. The plan was for Hook to climb up and throw a rope down so David could make it up the mountain. Raven’s job was just to make sure he stays alive until then. Hook had wanted Raven to just “poof” them up to the top, as he put it, but Raven insisted that it would be better to avoid any magic, as Pan can trace it easily.

Hook was nearly all the way up the mountain before David made any attempt at conversation.

“So...how long have you known Hook?” He asked, making Raven look away from the climbing pirate.

“Uhhh.. I’m not sure.” Raven answered honestly, “I’ve probably been on this island for hundreds of years.”

“Well sure..it’s just that you two seem close.”

“Close?!” Raven repeated, unsure if she’d heard David right. “Hook and I are nowhere near friends, I’m not sure where you got that idea, mate.”

“I don’t mean that you’re friends, I just mean that you argue more like you’re siblings than enemies.” David’s observation made Raven go quiet. “C’mon, I’m a dying man. And I’m curious.”

Raven scoffed at David’s attempt to get her to tell the truth, but decided to tell him anyway. “Hook and I knew each other before either of us came to Neverland.”

“What, like, when you were kids?”

“I’m still a kid, thank you very-” Raven suddenly sensed the presence of Pan, making her stop talking. She looked around the forest, before realizing that Pan was at the top of the mountain with Hook.

“What is it?” David asked, sensing her concern.

“Pan’s up there.”

“How do you know? Is Hook ok?” David asked.

“I just know, ok. And I’m not sure about Hook...but he hasn’t thrown the rope down. Think you can climb without it?” Raven asked, but before she even finished the question, David was slowly beginning to climb. “Guess that’s a yes…” She mumbled, before pulling her hands on the rocks and pulling herself up.

~~~

tag: @peculiarinsomniac 

[hopeduckling13]

Find My Way Back To You: Chapter 29

Summary:  Hope Swan-Jones is the product of the product of true love and her true love, so her having very powerful magic was always in the cards. Luckily she lives in a town where everyone is very familiar with magic, so nothing can go wrong, can it?

Or so everyone thought, but then one day as a newborn Hope accidently travels back in time with her mother Emma.

How will the past population of Storybrooke react to their Savior having another kid and being married? And more importantly will the Savior and her baby daughter find a way back home to all of their loved ones?

- - -

Catch Up:

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857127/chapters/34395467

FF.NET: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12964592/1/Find-My-Way-Back-To-You

Tumblr: [Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20] [Chapter 21] [Chapter 22] [Chapter 23] [Chapter 24] [Chapter 25] [Chapter 26] [Chapter 27] [Chapter 28]

Reblog to be tagged in future chapters

Taglist: @capswantrue

~~~ EMMA’S POV ~~~

Hope has been restless for far too long, so I decide to pay Hook a visit at his ship. I know seeing him will put my daughter at ease - damn the risk of changing the timeline. My baby needs this. I hate to see her sad. And I sort of need to see him, too.

I know he’s not my husband, but it’s close enough. This used to be Killian, which is all that matters to me.

I doubt, it’ll cause complications anyway. I think Emma and Hook are on quite good terms at the moment. I saw them at Granny’s having lunch together just a few days ago.

They seemed friendly.

So, it won’t confuse Hook that I want to hang out with him.

…

I arrive at the docks and walk to the Jolly Rodger. Hook isn’t on deck, so I go to check below deck. I climb down the latter, which is quite complicated with baby Hope on my arm. But I manage anyway. I walk to his door.

The door to his quarter’s stands open slightly. I can see him. He sits there at the desk with a glass of rum. I knock on the door softly, which causes it to swing open. I move into the doorway.

Hook looks up at me - a smile covering his whole face in an instant. Then, his eyes land on Hope, who is squirming in my arms at the sight of the past version of her dad. He looks at her softly and continues to smile.

“Babysitting again, Swan?” Hook asks with his eyebrow raised. He seems to be in a good mood judging by his voice.

I’m about to answer, that no I’m not babysitting since this is my child, but then I stop myself.

He still doesn’t know that there are two Emma’s. That’s probably for the best, too. He’s far too perceptive. I think he’d put together two and two and would realize, that Hope is his daughter. He’s not as guarded as I used to be after all. And he never made it a big secret, that he always had a thing for me. Maybe even back then and not just in Neverland. 

Anyway, he can’t find out.

Then, Emma might find out and she’d definitely freak out.

So, yeah. He can never know!

“Yes. She’s adorable, so I like hanging out with her. Can we come in?” I say, smiling at Hope and then at him.

“Of course, love.”

I walk inside and sit on the table close to Hook’s chair. His smell fills my nostrils, which drives me crazy. I miss him so much and smelling him doesn’t help that in the least.

He softly runs his hand over Hope’s head. “Hello, little love.”

That’s when Hope starts reaching out her hands to him. I should’ve seen this coming! A second passes and she instantly starts to cry loudly. She can be quite stubborn if she doesn’t get her way.

“Would you mind?” I ask him while nodding to Hope. I rock her softly, but that’s obviously not helping. She wants her dad now. There’s no changing her mind. She must have inherited that from her dad. I’m not this stubborn!

He shakes his head and grabs the pink protector, which he had lying on his desk. I can’t believe he kept that! Does that mean he cares for her, even though he doesn’t even know she’s his daughter? That’s so cute!

Hook puts it on his hook and then, I place Hope in his arms. She stops crying in an instant and cuddles into his chest. She smiles up at him.

I wipe the tears off her face. That’s when Hook freezes. His eyes lock on my rings.

Oh shit. I know I shouldn’t have worn them in the past! Emma wasn’t the only problem, it was also the people, who don’t know I’m not her! People, who are unaware I’m married and have a baby.

Luckily it’s just Hook now. He always gets so confused by modern culture. I can just tell him, that these are fashion accessories. They’re worth much more than that and he’ll be able to tell. He’s a pirate after all, but I’ll just act like that’s normal in my realm.

He won’t know.

“Where did you get that ring?” He asks. His voice is barely above a whisper. 

But he doesn’t sound sad or anything. So, what is going on? 

I could imagine him being sad since he might think the person he loves is married to someone else. But what else could cause his reaction? What am I missing? Why can I suddenly not read him?

When I don’t say anything, Killian lifts up my hand with his hook to look at the rings more clearly. He gasps and looks at me with shocked eyes.

“Where did you get this, Swan?” He repeats more determined.

“Does it matter? It’s just a ring.” I try to play it cool. But, I doubt it’ll work. He won’t let this go so soon.

“This isn’t just a ring. Not to me anyway. It looks just like my mother’s.” He says.

I gasp. 

Killian never mentioned, that my engagement ring was his mother’s. I did wonder how he paid for a ring in doubloons. But, I never asked, nor did I expect this! Oh my god. Did he really give me the last thing he had of his family? Again?

First, he gave up the Jolly Rodger to save me - his and Liam’s home. And now, he also gave me his mother’s ring!

I love him so much.

A tear slips down my face. I’m just so emotional and happy right now.

Hook stands up and wipes the single tear away with the pink protector on his hook. He looks at me with worry. “Is everything alright, Swan?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” I say, trying to sound cold, but that’s probably not working too well. Not when I’m standing opposite my true love.

“Then why are you crying, love?” He asks softly, while Hope reaches for his hook. She’s obsessed with it. It’s a good thing we both insisted on the protector. Otherwise, she’d hurt herself a lot.

“No reason.”

He looks at me with his damn blue eyes. He tilts his head slightly, indicating that he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying right now. 

In addition to that, he also raises his eyebrow. Damn him! He knows I can’t say no to that eyebrow or to his incredible eyes for that matter.

I won’t get out of telling him, right?

I have to tell him everything. He won’t leave me alone until I do.

[thelostfrenchwriter-blog]

The Returned

Author Note: Take place in Season 6, just after the finale! Also, this was inspired by a good French TV Show called The Returned.

The Returned

Chapter One: The Dead Who Came Back To Life

Henry woke up suddenly with a gasp. He looked around and sighed in relief when he saw he was just in his bedroom at Regina’s. He reached for his phone to inform himself of the time. It was early in the morning, only eight A.M. He stood up, dressed himself and climbed down the stairs. The young boy sat on a chair in front of the table as his other mother appeared, a plate in her hands. “I heard you moving and whining this night.” Regina said in worry. “Yeah, I had a nightmare but I don’t remember it.” He replied with a smile. “Don’t worry about me, mom.” The woman nodded and went back to the kitchen. Henry finished eating, went to the bathroom to brush his teethes. As he was doing so, he heard Regina gasping on the phone. “Are you sure?! It’s impossible!” She yelled. “It must be an illusion or something… Right. Okay, I am coming over with Henry. Just… I guess, just stay calm. We are going to find out what is happening in this town… Once again. I just hope it’s not another villain from whatever story. Alright. See you later, Emma.” Henry finished his business before joining Regina. She looked quite shocked by what his other mother had told her. “Come on, Henry. We have to go visit old family relatives.” She said as she took her car key.

They arrived at the dinner and entered it. Regina stopped in her tracks and started to hyperventilate at the sight of her father, standing here, alive, with Daniel (her former lover), Robin and Cora. Someone rushed to help her sit down on a chair and gave her an already prepared glass of water. Henry was also shocked to see Neal speaking with his mother and the man noted that his son was there. The teenager rushed toward him and hugged him tightly. The older man chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair. “You grew up, ugh?” The parents of Snow were there too, well alive, talking with everyone. Emma and Hook walked toward Regina who was just observing her old loved ones. “What…? How…?” She babbled. “We don’t know how, but they are pretty much real.” The former pirate said as he eyed his brother with a smile. “We also think someone is behind this.” Emma added seriously, hands on her hips. “Oh please, Miss Saviour.” Cora told her. “Let us reunite with our daughter… And lover.” She said as she looked at the two men who were standing awkwardly next to each other. “Of course. Take all the time you need.” They looked around, holding hands and felt a bit happy about this situation, because all their deceased friends and relatives and more were there, alive. Ruby was chatting with her deceased and former nearly boyfriend who didn’t seem to be afraid of her and to have forgiven her for killing him. Graham was there too, talking with Neal and Henry. Zelina walked in the dinner and reunited with her mother. Suddenly, Rumpletilskin and Belle entered the dinner, accompanied by Malcom, who was whispering curses. The Charmings family froze on their spots because they feared that even if Malcom was in his adult body, he may still had his powers and they guessed that the man only wanted to cause chaos everywhere in town and to take revenge on them. Belle saw that and smiled at the assembly. “You don’t have to worry about him. He is harmless.” “And we made sure that he doesn’t touch any magic related item.” The former Dark One added. “Henry!” Malcom smirked at the teenage boy. “Why don’t you come here and give your great grandfather have a hug?” The boy seemed to be very uncomfortable by this that he hided behind Neal and his others grandparents. Eva, Snow White’s mother, looked at the man. “Who is this?” “My father.” Rumpletilskin answered. “A vile character if you ask me…. And everyone here.” “There are still people missing.” David said. “The dwarves are searching for more and so are some trusted knights and friends.” “And I am going to do this also.” Graham informed them, looking at Regina. “I think I can help.” “Wait… What if the Black Fairy is here? Maybe she will try to kill us again… or worse!” Emma panicked. “Don’t worry, dear child.” Cora told her. “I noted that I loose my powers, so have this man child and probably the rest of the people who used to have magic before they died.” Malcom sat on a high chair in front of the bar. Ruby glared at him and he chuckled at that. “I am not scared of you, werewolf.” “You should be.” Hook saw that his older brother was walking out of the small restaurant so he went after him quickly. “Hey, what are you doing? Aren’t you happy to see me?” “Yes I am, Killian but… I feel out of place. So much things happened to you, you are a married man now… I am going to help this sheriff to find the missing ones.” “Emma and I are going to search near the whishing well and around. We never know who we can find.” Hook approved. “Right… Killian. If you see father…” “Don’t worry, I know what I will do with him. Good luck, brother. We will see each other tonight. I want to eat and drink with you and told you about the amazing adventures I have been on!” The former pirate laughed as he watched his brother go with Graham. He knew how his brother was feeling. Out of place. But who, from the dead people who came suddenly back to life, wasn’t? He observed as Neal and Emma were talking on a friendly tone, with Henry by their side. He sighed, waiting for his wife to come out and she did, with another person. Neal was there too. “Neal is coming with us.” The blond woman informed him. “I can see that, love. What for?” He asked. “If I recall well, all the people who were killed by whatever person or by a disease, related to us, is now alive. That mean that Felix too and he is the only one missing person that I know.” Neal answered, looking at him in worry. “And I don’t know what he will do alone in the forest.” “Shit.” Emma cursed as she felt drops of rain falling on her body. “It’s starting to rain.” “And it’s going to rain heavily for the whole day and night. A little storm.” Grumpy said as he walked quickly in with a blind woman at his side in the dinner. “What do we do?” Killian asked his wife. “We will search for the boy tomorrow.” She decided. “He is a lost boy, isn’t he? Then, he will survive this little storm.” “I hope so.” Neal sighed, looking at the sky. “I know for sure he is resourceful but I hope he will find shelter soon.” “Why are you worrying about him, Neal?” Emma asked him as she watched Killian going back inside. “He was on Pan’s side the last time we saw him.” “Emma, for the Dark Curse, Pan needed the heart of the thing he loved the most and I am pretty sure it was Felix. Now, imagine this: you are alone, in a place you don’t really know, you had been betrayed by your friends and by your best friend, by your leader to whom you literally vowed a cult to… If he remembers all that, I am not certain he is feeling at his best…” The man told her. The blond woman nodded, understand what he meant. “Alright. Granny is offering free rooms for people who need one, or you could sleep at my place…” “No. Don’t be worried about me. Your good friend Graham still has his house and he offered me to sleep there.” He smiled as he saw the man waiting for him inside his car, with Daniel, the first love of Regina, killed by his mother. “I hope Hook doesn’t mind me hanging with you tomorrow.” “He doesn’t. Like the rest of us, he is a bit… shaken up by what is happening right now.”

Malcom walked around the house of his son, watching the family pictures and other photos and paintings. He stopped at one, where everyone of Henry’s family was there, looking at the camera, smiling happily… Even his son… It disgusted him. Rumpletilskin once had all the powers in the worlds and realms, thanks to him. If he didn’t had abandoned him, his son would be someone… weak. He sighed, trying once again to see if his magic was working but it wasn’t. “I told you so many times already, papa. The dead who are now alive and who used to have magic doesn’t have it anymore.” The former Dark One taunted his father with a cruel smile. “Did you find any of the lost boys?” Malcom asked, falsely interested. “Yes, reunited with their families who adopted them. But… About the one you loved very much and that you sacrificed for your own revenge, he still was not found and as you know, it’s raining very hard outside…” “I don’t care about him. If he is alive, well good for him, if he dies…” “I know when you are lying, papa. I read it on your face. Whatever you two had in Neverland, this kind of relationship is not allowed here. Also, I don’t think he wants to see or talk to you, after all what you did to him. Poor boy… Betrayed by everyone he trusted…” He teased. “SILENCE!” Malcom roared as he turned toward his son. “You know nothing about this! You know nothing about me, about him, about Neverland!” “Careful papa. Don’t say things you could regret. Most of the town inhabitants would love to see you in prison or… dead.” Rumpletilskin said as he circled him. “And I won’t hesitate to do so.” The older man hummed angrily and Belle arrived in the room. “Your bedroom is ready but don’t expect me to clean or tidy it up.” She declared, a book in her hands. “Thank you, step daughter.” He grinned evilly. “Have a nice night you two…” Belle went beside her husband and looked at him in worry. “What if he tries to do anything?” She murmured. “He won’t. He has a bracelet that only I can get it off of him that forbid him to touch magic related things. Also, I installed some cameras inside his bedroom so I can watch what he is doing.” The man answered in a whisper. “Something is troubling you.” Belle noted. “Yes, I think that if we find Felix, the former second in command of my father when he was Peter Pan, I fear that he will want to see him…” He revealed. “What? He is going to manipulate this boy again?!” He nodded and he kissed her forehead. “I hope Emma, Neal and Killian will find him soon then.” The brown haired woman whispered. “And that he is alive.” “Don’t worry, Belle… Don’t worry…”

Emma frowned when she saw the wishing well and no boy was around, also no corpse. “This mean that he may be alive, if we don’t see his corpse.” Killian said. “Yes.” Emma agreed. “Let’s try to find clues or a trail… Neal?” The woman questioned the other man, who was crouching. “What are you doing?” “There are marks of fight here but I can’t see it clearly, because it rained yesterday. I guess an animal against a human.” “Felix?” “I think so. There is blood here. Seems like the animal ran away too, look at this trail, but no blood.” Neal explained to the two adults as he showed them. “It’s going on the opposite direction but this one is headed in this direction. I can see footprints but it will be hard to track them down…” “Let’s follow them.” Emma decided as Neal rose up from the ground. “So, what are we going to say to him?” Killian asked as they walked in the forest. “Hey remember us? We forced you out of your dear island, your only home, to put you in a cell that you escaped thanks to your murderous friend that killed you right after?” “Sounds good to me.” Emma said, shrugging as she was following right behind Neal. “He tried to kill Henry. He was an accomplice of Pan.” “I prefer the term manipulated by Pan.” Neal objected. “All the boys were. I see it with my own eyes. I still don’t know why Felix worshipped him so much. There were a few rumours and stories made up by the boys at this time.” He said, recalling each one of them. “Yeah, I heard about one of them.” Killian said. “Mermaids are quite talkative when they want to.” Emma stared at the two men in wonder. “So, what happened to Felix?” “The story from the mermaids I heard was that Felix was a boy Pan fell in love with and that he made his life so miserable that Felix felt lost. When he did feel so, Pan’s shadow took him to Neverland but Pan preferred to act like he never loved Felix in front of the boys but in private…” Killian coughed. “I don’t want to talk about that.” Neal stopped suddenly as he kneeled down. There was blood on the ground, near a ditch and quite a lot. The man cursed and turned to the two adults. “He must be around here.” “Let’s search in the ditch.” Killian said. After walking around for a moment, they found the lonely lost boy, moaning in pain, as he was trying to tie a cloth around his right leg. He raised his head when he heard moves and he frowned when he saw the three adults, looking down at him, in pity. “What?” He spat. “Are you going to feed on my misery?” “No, we are not going to do that.” Emma said as she crouched down next to him and tried to heal him with her magic. She scowled when she saw it didn’t really worked. “Come on, mate.” Killian said as he helped the boy to his feet. “We are going to correctly treat this wound, find some warm clothes for you and nice family to welcome you in.” “I don’t need a family and I don’t need your pity either!” Felix growled as he pushed Killian from him. “Listen boy, you should be glad that those two wanted desperately to find you because they feared for your life.” Emma scolded him with authority. “So now, you are under our charge and since you are a minor, you are going to listen to every order we will give you.” Felix didn’t answer but he was clearly unhappy about this decision. Emma sighed and turned to look at her husband. “Let’s go back to Storybrooke.”

Author Note: The first chapter was quite… messy, don’t you guys think? But I hope that you guys liked this one, it’s just based on a idea I had one day… Anyway, I hope I didn’t make any single mistake, leave a comment or review and have a nice day or night! ^^

[killian-whump]

OUAT 3x01: Rewatch Blog

Welcome aboard, mateys! It's time to start rewatching Season 3! As usual, I'm a bit behind everyone else on this rewatch, but I've decided it's more fun for me to move at my own pace, so I probably won't be catching up anytime soon ;)

That said... Let's get started on Once Upon a Time Season 3!!!

Whoa. Wait a minute. Eleven Years Ago?! I really AM behind... ;)

Seriously, though. Do they really have to handcuff her ankle to the bed? Do they have a problem with women in labor jumping up and escaping prison right at that precise moment in their lives?

That's sad, though :(

Ooooh... I love the deadly stillness after the ship "lands" in Neverland. It's so... eeeeeeeerie. 

Ahhh, and the ominous look on Killian's face.

You can just FEEL the tension in the air.

"Aye. Neverland."

AHHHHHHHH TENSION AND ANGST

Kinda lame title card, haha.

Aw, great. It's this guy. NOBODY MISSED YOU GREG. YOU CAN GO BACK TO WHEREVER YOU WENT DURING THE HIATUS NOW.

SHIT. HE BROUGHT TAMARA, TOO.

I really hate these two, guys. Like, really.

Oh, come on. Don't shove a fucking kid, you asshat. Fucking GREG. You're an insult to your name, and I don't even like your name.

Oooooh, spooky noises. I love the atmosphere they built for this realm.

"Who we work for is not your concern, kid." Well, according to YOU as of about 20 minutes ago in show time, it's not YOUR concern either, dipshit.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THERE'S SAND IN YOUR BATTERY COMPARTMENT, YOU FUCKING MORON. WHO PUT SAND IN YOUR BATTERY COMPARTMENT, HUH? YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

Shut up, shut up. I know it was Peter Pan. LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT.

"It's a good thing you guys don't ask any questions." Hahahaha, bested by an 11-year-old and sand.

...and there he goes, shoving the damn kid again. You're just a colossal jerk, aren't you, Greg?

At least Tamara has the sense to look mildly concerned right here.

"Oh, I know, my hot-headed queen."

I JUST DIED. Forward my mail to my gravesite.

I totally forgot that line ever happened. I love rewatching this show.

"I hope not, or we've wasted our lives." AAAAAAANGST

"Your lives... well... THEY'VE SUCKED" hahaha, Why don’t you tell them what you really think, Emma XD

"We found you." Awww... "And lost Henry! And Neal!" Well, to be fair, it's not like you can expect them to give two shits about Neal. They met him, like, last week. And he's kinda a dick. And his Dad's, like, evil incarnate. But okay.

"Oh, that's a great use of our time: A wardrobe change." One of the best lines ever, really.

I mean, did Rumple really need to do the dramatic cane-spinning exit, though? It makes for good TV, so it's cool and all, but imagine it in real life. Like, just a boat full of people staring at where he once stood, thinking, "JFC That was unnecessarily dramatic."

OH, YEAH, LET'S LIGHT A FUCKING FIRE, GREG. THAT'S A GREAT FUCKING IDEA, GREG. Fucking loser.

Yes, I do plan on doing this until he dies. You have your hobbies; I have mine.

"You making S'Mores?"

HAAAAAAHHAHAHAHA OMG LOOK AT HIS FACE:

Fucking goon. Haha. I named that screencap "assface" when I saved it, because I feel it's fitting for both the character AND the face he's making.

"What if the empty communicator wasn't an accident?"

You mean the one someone OBVIOUSLY filled with sand instead of batteries ON PURPOSE??? Noooooooooooo.

"Don't let the kid get in your head." He's not even TRYING, Greg. He's just hungry and wants some fucking S'Mores. I want some S'Mores, too. We all want fucking S'Mores. S'Mores are delicious, FuckingGreg.

OH LOOK, IT'S FELIX.

AND ALL THE REST OF THE LOST BOYS ONES BOYS. I think we’re calling them “Boys” now. Must have gotten the rights.

Kill him, Felix. Somebody. Anybody. I'll even settle for the annoying Lost Boy with the face that annoys me, although I don't think he's in this season, but he's welcome to join it IF HE KILLS GREG.

"Then you're not getting the boy." Oh, Greg. It is entirely too late for you to do anything remotely likable now. Like, I literally want to throw Henry at them now just to spite you.

YEEEEESSSSSSSSSS RIP THAT MOTHERFUCKER'S SOUL OUT OF HIS BODY. TAKE HIS SPINE, TOO. THE ENTIRE SKELETAL SYSTEM. MAYBE A DISEMBOWELING'S CALLED FOR HERE?

Or, you know, you can just leave his husk there by the fire to rot away. That's good, too. I'm not picky.

GREG IS DEAD, EVERYBODY.

Tamara and Henry are running! Oh no! Will they make it? Will they-

This is a great scene, everybody. Thank you so much. This is the best thing to ever happen to me and the season only started 10 minutes ago.

Hahaha, they even show us a close-up of Tamara lying motionless on the ground, and then Greg. Like they KNOW we've all been waiting for their demise and they wanted to give us screenshots for our scrapbooks.

Anyway, thanks Felix! That was pretty cool. Much obliged.

Hey, look. An enterprising young chap has helped Henry up. There's no way he could be a bad guy.

I have to say, of all the "twists" in Once, this was one of the worst ones in terms of how OBVIOUS it was.

To some extent, it's the casting department's fault, because Robbie Kay is just TOO fucking perfect for Peter Pan. Like, he just EXUDES Peter Pan and he's not fooling anybody.

Heeheehee CS flirting <3

"What do you want?" All due respect, but it's HIS fucking ship? Like, he doesn't really need a reason to be below deck on his own ship?

"I didn't realize you were sentimental." "I'm not."

I love it when he spits the cork out, but how many corks does this man go through?!

Oh, look. Speak of the devil - It's Neal.

"Tell Emma I'm alive. And I love her."

Well, that's a GREAT message to pass on through your kiiiiiid. Won't get his hopes up or anything.

ANYWAY.

"Long enough to know I miss him, too." T_T

UH OH. TROUBLE'S AFOOT!!!

Oh, Dave and Snow are at the helm. That explains it. LEARN HOW TO DRIVE, SNOWING. Gosh.

Pun intended. I'm so sorry.

Regina: "What the hell are you two doing?!" Ahahahahaha :D

"Prepare for attack!" "Be more specific!" I love all these interactions. This is like the WORST family vacation EVER and I love every second of it.

"What's out there? A shark? A whale?" "A kraken?"

YOU FUCKING WISH.

Actually, no, Dave probably doesn't wish... but Kraken-san does! :D

Emma's response is classic. "Mermaids?!" Like what the fuck else does she have to put up with in this crazy sham of a life NOOOOW?

Dave's kinda hot manning that cannon, I gotta say. He's showing off some guns firing off that gun, if you know what I mean.

But really, what did they plan to DO with one mermaid, anyway? Especially after Regina chased them all off with her fireballs?

Oh, look. Henry and Totally-Not-Peter-Pan are on the run!

I'm super fooled by him talking himself up in third person, though XD

"If Pan wants you... he WILL get you."

"Pan will rip their shadows into oblivion."

"Pan loves nachos with spicy cheese."

"Pan is the awesomest guy on this island."

Aw, man. This scene is a snoozefest :/

Literally. They're all just watching Aurora sleep XD

Wait. HOW is Neal feeling better? He got shot, like, 10 minutes ago in show time and he's had no REAL medical care, aside from whatever they bandaged him with, since none of these folks here have magic.

HOW IS HE FEELING BETTER?!

I gotta be honest, though. Rumple is hot as SHIT in this season. I ain't gonna pretend otherwise. This leather clad badass thing WORKS for him.

Oh, look. Tamara's still alive.

"C-Can you forgive me?"

I'm gonna guess that is a HARD ASS NO, bitch.

Haha, love the way he flicks the dust off his fingers.

"GET THAT THING OFF MY SHIP!"

I love how panicked he is by the mermaid XD It gives my entire life meaning :D

I wish we had more information in canon about Hook's time in Neverland. We can tell this is FAR from his first skirmish with mermaids, but how/when/why/what happened? I NEED TO KNOW! Especially if it involved wounds or peril or other things relevant to my interests...

Touching Mulan and Neal chat.

More running in the woods with Not!Pan.

"Well, I'm all out of fish food." Love you, Regina <3

"Fillet the bitch." Seriously, love you so much bae <3

Snow's face, tho XD

This is 110% why I watch this show. SHENANIGANS.

...and a pirate. Don't forget the pirate.

"I've outrun many a storm!" We know you have, babe. We know. You keep telling us...

SHAMPOO COMMERCIAL TIME!!!

PERIL ON THE HIGH SEAS!!!

CERTAIN BLETH DEATH!!!

SUPER DRAMATIC MUSIC!!!

...as we cut to a peaceful, though somewhat dilapidated, castle in the Enchanted Forest. Birds are singing, dawn is breaking, the world is alight with hope and possibili-

JUST KIDDING. GET BACK TO THE FUCKING DRAMA STORM, SHOW.

I hate it when they do this.

Hey, Sean. Nice intro.

"You don't want to see ID?" Neal... ISTFG.

Disappearing arrow, heehee. SHENANIGANS.

I love how interested Robin is in what's inside the vault XD Always a thief, eh?

"This isn't a storm. It's bloody damnation!" Love that line <3

"Let the slags go!" Haha "Don't call my wife a slag!" Haha!

BOY FIGHT!! BOY FIGHT!!!

They're all wet, too! Slow down, cameraman! I wanna see ALL of this!!!

Oooh, almost gutted with his own hook. Haaaaarsh.

Emma, no one's listening to you. Emma, no one's... They're not... They're not even looking or paying any attention at all... They won't even- Oh. Okay. Somehow everyone saw you jump, despite literally being in a fight for their respective lives. Neat.

...aaaaaaand cue the convenient rigging falling loose and hitting her in the head.

SHENANIGAAAAAAAAANS

Oh, look! They're flying!!!

This would be super touching if it wasn't, you know, exactly what Pan wants XD

Haha, Emma looks so ethereal floating there, unconscious, in the waters of Neverland, facing certain death.

Awww! A big group effort rescue!!! Good job, team!

"Told you." Right, but no one was listening...? So how do they even know what she's talking about? Well, I guess maybe they WERE listening...?

Shenanigans? idek anymore...

SHENANIGANS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Awww... Bobby's acting is so great right here. This is awesome. Very moving. The part after the shenanigans, I mean. Although they’re great, too.

Felix, you're kinda a dick, though. That’s kinda a compliment, tho?

I love it when magic flops :D Dramatic music aaaaaand... nothing.

"Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time, when you're not yelling at me."

You like her even more when she's yelling at you, son. IT IS KNOWN.

His offended face when Charming says, "With him?" XD DAVE, WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS ABOUT ME. DAVE, I THOUGHT WE WERE PALS. DAVE. DAAAAVE.

Hahaha, his adorable shrug to Regina. SHENANIGANS <3

"You couldn't be more right, Henry."

I'm so glad they didn't try to drag out the reveal of Pan to another episode, because he seriously wasn't fooling aaaaaanybody.

Except for Henry. Oops?

It's so great how ominous they're being at the end of this episode, advancing on Henry like that...

Although Pan's "let's play!" is a lot less frightening when you know he literally means "let's dance around a fire and create a rhythmic ruckus" but hey. It still works for the ending of this episode, which is now... OVER!!

PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW!!! PEW PEW PEW!!!

[justanoutlawfic]

1. soulmates au Maiden Swan :)

I kinda got carried away with this, haha. A canon divergence of both The New Neverland and There’s No Place Like Home.

Also on AO3

Emma lingered in the doorway of the convent. She feltstupid. They had just gotten back from Neverland and Pan’s shadow was defeated.This was hardly the time to be thinking about her love life, but there was thisnagging feeling in the back of her head. She didn’t know what she should do.Neal had asked her out on a date and Killian was clearly also willing to pursueher. She wasn’t used to so many men being interested in an actual long term relationshipwith her.

She had overheard Tink and Regina in Neverland. Reginahad been lead to her soulmate, but she had been too scared to go in and make amove. Emma didn’t want to be scared, she just wanted to know. Blue was being abit better with the use of pixie dust and Emma knew she wouldn’t be putting Tinkat risk…so she had come to get answers.

Walking into the convent, she found Tink unpacking herfew items. She looked up and grinned. “Hello, Emma.”

“Hey.” Emma bounced on the back of her heels, looking aroundthe room. “So…you’re gonna live here now?”

“For now, just until I can get my own place.” She paused.“Something tells me you’re not here to discuss living arrangements.”

“It’s just…maybe this is silly…I just heard what youdid for Regina back in the Enchanted Forest.”

Tink frowned. “I’ve tried to search for him here, butI never saw his face, just his tattoo.”

“I understand and while I’d like to help Regina…God, Isound so selfish right now.”

A slow smileformed across Tink’s face. “You want to know who your soulmate is as well?”

Emma slowly nodded. “Well…yes. I’m trying to sort everythingout in my head and maybe this would help.”

“Knowing who your soulmate is could add even more pressure.Just because your soulmates, doesn’t mean true love you know.”

“I know, I know. I think I just need to try.”

Tink’s smile widened. “Well, I do think it’d be a bitawkward if we flew around Storybrooke together. The guys might suspectsomething was up. However, there is another way.”

She lead Emma out of her room and over to where they wereharvesting the new pixie dust that had been found in the mines. She grabbed amirror from the shelves and then sprinkled some pixie dust on it.

“When you look into this, your reflection will insteadbe your soulmate.”

Emma took the mirror from her, shutting her eyes. Thiswas it, the person she was meant to be with. All of the confusing thoughts inher head, the words both men had been slinging at her, hopefully it’d all makesense as soon as she looked into the mirror.

Her eyes flickered open and she watched as the dust swarmedaround. Things were a bit cloudy at first, until she saw a picture of a woman. Shehad tan skin and thick dark locks, with matching eyes. This wasn’t Killian or Neal.More importantly, Emma had never seen her before. She frowned and Tink movedbeside her.

“Well, who is that?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never seen her around herebefore.”

“Well, some people are stuck in different realms…perhaps…”

“Perhaps this was all for nothing.” She saw the disappointedlook on Tink’s face. “It’s not your fault, Tinkerbell, I promise. Obviously myhappy ending isn’t a man and that’s okay. It’s just obviously not with anyonebut my family.”

Emma handed Tink the mirror back and left the convent.Her own disappointment was soon distracted by the realization that her son wasn’treally her son. Within hours, she’d be driving over the town line, forgetting thelife she had known for the past 11 years. It wouldn’t be for another year thatshe’d remember her real life.

She told Killian it was like waking up from a reallygood dream and she was right. She could pretend like she was happy back then,with her son, a boyfriend that treated her great. Then, one knock on the doorfrom a pirate later and she realized that none of the memories she had ofraising Henry were real and her boyfriend was a flying monkey, sent to killher.

What she would give to go back to just a few weeksbefore then, at least that was what she thought. After the curse broke and herlittle brother was born, she found herself being pulled through a portal withKillian. She was brought to the past, with her mother on the run and her fathermasquerading as a prince. A few wrong moves later and she ended up in Regina’sprison.

The guard tossed her into her cell and she fell to thefloor with a thud. She groaned and slowly sat up, suddenly hearing a femininevoice from the cell next to her.

“Are you alright?”

Emma brushed herself off, shaking her head. “Yeah, Ithink so, thanks.” She tried to peer through the bars to see the person on theother side better, but she was hard to make out. “I’m…Leia,” she remindedherself to use her alias as she held onto the bars for support to stand.

“I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you,” the womanreplied, sounding bitter.

Emma could still feel the pain running through herbody, which made her voice ragged as she gave a weak chuckle. “Given thecircumstances, I get it.”

As she looked closer through the bars, she tilted herhead. That face, she had seen it before somewhere. Perhaps on the streets ofStorybrooke in passing? She was still getting to know everyone.

“You hungry?” Emma asked, having a feeling that thepast version of Regina wasn’t the type to feed her prisoners. She reached intoher cloak and pulled out a roll. “I snuck it off a tray on my way down here.”

The woman rose to her feet and walked closer to her.She accepted the roll through the metal bars and looked at Emma gratefully. Itwas then that she could see her eyes and Emma was brought back to the realreason she remembered her.

She was the girl in the mirror, her…her soulmate.

It couldn’t be. She had given up on finding her, therewere more important things to worry about. Yet, there she was, right in front ofher. Her heart summersaulted and she swallowed.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Emma had to think on her feet. “I…I saw you earlier. Iwanted to help…”

“It’s fine. If you had done it, you would’ve ended upin here sooner.”

“What…what did she put you in here for?”

“I knew where Snow White was hiding, but I refused totell the queen.”

“You gave up your freedom to save Snow White?” Sheasked in awe.

“I believe that she is innocent. I won’t let Reginawin, not if I can help it.”

Emma felt herself slowly starting to smile. This womanbelieved in her mother, she was protecting her. It was a selfless act and itwould be one that would be one of the reasons why Emma came into existence…ifshe didn’t screw everything up in the meantime.

It didn’t take Emma long to hatch an escape plan. Sheused the wooden spoons to get the lock opened (all about the tumblers) and hadgotten out. She had urged her to go on without her, but Emma knew she couldn’t dothat. She couldn’t lose her soulmate, not after all this time. The woman spokeof a family, but she didn’t know what that meant.

Hook called her stupid for disrupting the timeline,but she didn’t care. She had saved the woman’s life and that was what mattered.Maybe it was selfish, but maybe they could try.

The woman was smart and she soon realized that theywere from the future. After they managed to save Snow from execution and makingsure that she started to fall in love with David, the three of them were alone.Their glamour spells were fading and she could see them for who they reallywere.

“You saved me,” She said to Emma once Hook had walkedaway. “You know this could ruin everything, so…why?”

“You’re an innocent. You were willing to give yourlife for Snow White.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “And maybe another part ofit was selfish.”

“Hmm?”

“I…and this will sound silly, but I once spoke to afairy. I asked her to show me my soulmate and she did….it was you.”

The woman’s mouth opened and then closed. “What’s yourname? Your real name?”

“I don’t know if it’s safe…”

“I already know what you really look like.”

“Emma.”

“Emma, you saved my life and for that, I’m foreverindebted to you. However, I have a family to get back to…a child…” Emma couldsee the look of doubt in the woman’s eye, almost as if she wondered if she wasmaking the right choice with her next words. “A husband.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know, maybe the mirror was wrong, maybe youhave me confused with someone…”

“Maybe. Look, um…just be careful. Regina will be onthe lookout for you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out some other jewelsshe had stolen from her father’s carriage without him noticing. “Trade thesefor a passage out of here.”

“Thank you, Emma.”

As she started to walk away, Emma called after her. “Hey!”

She turned around. “Yes?”

“What’s your name?”

The woman softly smiled. “Marian.”

Emma watched her walk away, her heart sinking in herchest. She tried to remind herself that if they were truly meant to be, they’dfind a way. After all, Regina and Robin had figured it out, after all thoseyears. Even if it didn’t work out, she’d be okay. She knew what she was goinghome to: her family. She would never let her parents go again.

Soon, she and Hook were back in Storybrooke. After reunitingwith her parents, Emma began to look through the book to see what had changed.It mostly just seemed to be the origins of her parents’ relationships, until shereached the story of Robin and Maid Marian. The pictures were a bit familiarand it slowly began to dawn on her.

Marian…Maid Marian.

Oh, God. What had she done?

However, when she turned around to look, Robin andRegina were standing close together, flirting more than ever. Emma’s eyesdrifted back to the book and she flipped forward a few pages, finding the uniqueend to the tale of Robin Hood. While he and Marian had agreed to raise theirson together, Marian had revealed to him that she had feelings for women. Ithad been a hard adjustment, but they had gotten there in time.

“Emma?”

Emma’s head snapped up and she turned around to findMarian standing there. Rather than the cloak and rundown dress from the EnchantedForest, she was wearing a light yellow dress, her hair tied back in a ponytail.

“Marian,” she whispered.

“It’s you, the one that saved me all those years ago.”

Emma smiled. “I did.”

“Things were a lot different back then…”

“I see they’ve changed, though,” she interrupted,gesturing to the book.

“Would you like a drink?”

“I’d love that.”

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

[weirddemiwood]

Warlock Pirate, Part 16

Masterlist

"Is that it?" Emma yelled as they saw an island in the distance.

"Aye," Killian said, "Neverland."

Majo had been underdeck and preparing her weapons. She took out her sword and a few daggers and put them on top of her cupboard. She had sharpened them and walked back onto the main deck now.

"I'm gonna get Henry." The Crocodile said and she noticed that he was in his old clothing again.

"We agreed to do this together," Regina said.

"Actually, we made no such agreement."

Emma looked up at the man who was standing on the Quarter Deck. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I wanna succeed."

"What makes you think I'm gonna fail?"

"Well, how could you not?" Rumplestiltskin asked her mockingly, "you don't believe in your parents or in magic or even in yourself."

"I slayed a dragon. I think I believe." Majo raised an eyebrow at this.

"Only what was shown to you." The Dark One said, "When have you ever taken a real leap of faith? You know, the kind where there's absolutely no proof? I've known you some time, Ms. Swan. And sadly, despite everything you've been through, you're still just that...bail bondsperson, looking for evidence. Well, dearie, that's not gonna work in Neverland."

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"Well, you just need someone to tell you what that is. Sorry, dearie. Our foe is too fearsome for hand-holding. Neverland is a place where imagination runs wild. And sadly...yours doesn't." he spun his cane and before it hit the floor, Rumplestiltskin was gone.

Majo was lying on her bed, looking at the ceiling. There were knife marks all over it from here throwing her daggers in and pulling them out again with her magic when bored.

She sighed, she had only been on Neverland once. That very first time with the Jones brothers. After that, she had not felt the need to visit an island full of lonely children.

As the ship wobbled on the waves, Majo furrowed her eyebrows and stood up, putting one of her daggers in her right boot, just in case.

She walked onto the Quarter Deck were Snow White and Prince Charming were looking miserable behind the steering wheel.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" The Queen voiced her thoughts.

"Trying to keep it steady!" the shorthaired woman yelled back.

"Hold on!" the prince yelled.

Killian walked towards them, "Prepare for attack!" he took the place of the Charming couple.

"Be more specific," Regina told the Captain.

Majo yelled, "If you got a weapon, then grab it!" and also conjured her sword to her belt.

Killian grunted and they could hear screeching in the distance as Emma asked, "What's out there? A shark?! A whale?!"

"A Kraken?!" her father added.

"Worse," Killian said as the screeching grew louder, "Mermaids."

"Mermaids?!" Emma asked as the screeching continued.

"Yes, and they're quite unpleasant," Killian said.

"And smell like Seaweed!" Majo added.

Killian gripped the steering wheel tighter, "I'll try and outrun them."

The Savior looked into the sea where you could see tons of scaly blue fishtails, "How many of them are there?!" She yelled and the fish women banged their tails against the Jolly Roger, making it shake even more than it was already.

"I will not be capsized by fish!" Charming yelled and ran over to the canons.

Majo looked from the Prince to the mermaids, "Technically, they are a type of fairies!" As she saw the look Regina gave her she added, "But I guess fish works too."

Charming shot at the mermaids while Snow White and her daughter threw a fishing net into the water. "Why again do we have that?" Majo asked Killian but didn't get an answer as he was concentrating on getting them out of the fishy situation.

"We caught one!" Majo heard Snow yell but she didn't pay a lot of attention as she started sending blue sparks at the Mermaids. She didn't want to kill them but she definitely didn't want to be killed either.

Suddenly, flames danced over the water and Majo looked at Regina who had thrown the fireball. Regina threw another one, making the last three mermaids swim away screeching. "There. They're gone."

"Not all of them!" Emma panted as she held onto the fishing net with her mother.

"What about that one?" Snow asked.

Majo looked over at them, "Release her."

But instead, Regina waved her hand made the mermaid appear on board the ship.

The mermaid cried out and Majo almost felt sorry for her.

Liam's body was let into the ocean. "This belongs to you know...Captain." a bald man, whose name Majo didn't know, said and handed Killian the satchel with the sextant in it.

"You'll never leave my side, brother," he said, looking at it. Then he started talking with the crew, "We are sworn to serve the King and the realm." He traded the satchel for a torch, "They sent us to retrieve an unthinkable poison, one that killed our dear Captain." He walked towards the Pegasus sail. "Never again shall anyone set sail to that cursed land." He lifted the torch and set the sail on fire. The ashes rained down on the crew, "And never again shall we take such orders..."

A chorus of "Yes!" could be heard.

The new Captain continued, "serving the King, fighting his wars!"

"No!" the crewmen yelled.

"That is the way of dishonor!" Killian yelled, "and all who disagree, flee now or walk the bloody plank! For those who stay will be free men, and I will be your Captain."

"Aye!"

"We'll sail under the crimson flag and we'll give our enemies no quarter. We'll take what we please!"

"Yes!" the men yelled.

"And we'll live by our own rules..."

The crew cheered.

"For that is the best form of all!"

"Yeah!"

"Our kingdom is corrupt and immoral. They took my brother from me, and now I'm gonna take everything they've got..."

"Yes!"

"Starting with this ship!"

The crew cheered.

Killian looked at Majo, "It's time we rename this vessel. We no longer sail as the 'Jewel Of The Realm.' We now sail as the 'Jolly Roger.'

The crew cheered again and they began pulling off their blue vests that where Majo came from symbolized the belonging to the Royal Navy and she was sure that it was similar here.

"And when they come for us, I want them to know exactly what we are-Pirates! For at least among thieves there is honor!"

"Long live Captain Jones!"

"Captain Jones!" "Captain Jones!" "Catain Jones!" "Captain Jones!" "Captain Jones!" "Catain Jones!" "Captain Jones!" "Captain Jones!" "Captain Jones!" "Catain Jones!"

Majo waved her hand and the Name on the side of the ship changed to 'Jolly Roger'. She looked at the Captain, "You have someplace for a warlock in your crew? I mean you did just burn that what I bought with the last money I had."

"Of course," the Captain nodded, "My brother made a deal that you could stay as long as you wished and I apologize for the loss of your money."

The warlock waved it off, "It was stolen anyway."

"Get that thing off my ship!" Killian yelled.

"No!" Regina replied. "Now we have a hostage."

Charming turned to the Queen, "I hate to say it, but I'm with Hook. Those things just tried to kill us."

"And perhaps we should find out why."

"Well," Majo said, "maybe we're trespassing their territory or something. It's not unusual within downworlders."

The mermaid then grabbed a seashell that was next to her and blew into it.

"What the hell is that?" Emma asked.

"A warning," the mermaid told her as they could hear thunder clapping, "Let me go...or die."

"What is this?" Charming asked holding up the shell to her, "What did you do?"

"Not until you tell us. Or we make you tell us." The Evil Queen said.

Snow turned to her stepmother, "Threatening her isn't the way to motivate her."

"Well, I'm all out of fish food."

Majo snorted, she had to give Regina that, her sass was extraordinary.

"Doesn't matter if you get her to talk." Killian said, motioning towards the mermaid, "You can't trust her. Mermaids are liars."

They all continued arguing and the storm got worse. Majo looked at the mermaid who was now smirking.

Charming put his sword to the mermaid's neck and threatened her but she only smiled. He held it closer and was about to kill her (especially after Regina's 'Fillet the bitch') but he quickly stepped back. "No, we're not barbarians."

"What we're going to be is dead," Regina said as the thunder got worse.

Killian turned around the wheel, "Hold on! I'm gonna turn her around. I've outrun many a storm."

Majo nodded and walked next to Killian, swiping her wet hair out of her face as Snow and Regina began to argue again.

"Stop! We need to think this through!" Emma yelled.

"I already have," Regina said. She waved her hand and turned the mermaid to wood, "There. That should stop the storm."

[captainswanandclintasha]

Awake and Alive - Chapter 20 (20/20+ Epilogue)

Summary: While Emma and the other Nevengers are leaving Storybrooke for Neverland to search for Henry, a misterious and unkown woman comes in Storybrooke, looking for a long lost man and some answers about herself. Meanwhile in Neverland Emma and Hook discover something about themselves that is going to change their lives forever.

Rated M for future chapters and HA for HARD ANGST. Yet no one is dying. I promise. Thought I can’t say the same about the readers (or the writer) and F for fluff (also for future chapters)

Many many thank to Cathy (@ultraluckycatnd​) for her help in betaing this story!

Tumblr: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 

FF.NET | AO3

Wiping away the tears. Is this the end? Is this? OMG. It can’t be. Right? RIGHT? OH MY GOD THIS IS THE END!! OH NO IT’S NOT! I’ll post one more part tomorrow. The epilogue. I promise. 

As always tagging  @cinnamonduckling, @captainswan-shipper88, @tirsu, @tomeandflickcorner. Let me know if you want to be tagged for future chapters!

Enjoy!

_________________

“So you two found out that you are True Loves back in Neverland?” David asked Emma with surprise in his voice.

“Yes,” Emma answered.

David nodded at her answer than started to talk again. “More accurately, when you bought him back to life?” he asked.

“Yes,” Emma answered for the millionth time, rolling her eyes at him. She knew very well David understood the story from the first moment she explained everything to them. He was just being stubborn.

After their declarations of love at the docks, Emma and Killian spent a few more minutes in each others arms, enjoying the quiet and the fact that they were alone. Then they decided that it was time to go to Granny’s and finally tell Emma’s parents the truth about what was really going on between them. So they started to walk towards the diner hand in hand, no longer caring if any resident of Storybrooke saw them like that.

When Emma and Killian entered the diner, still hand in hand, Emma saw her parents at a table, together with Milah and Henry. Mary Margaret saw them coming in and Emma could tell that she had told the others that Emma and Killian were coming back to the diner because Milah and Henry turned to look at the couple at the same time and smiled at them and their joined hands. Emma could swear David was having a stroke and Mary Margaret was trying to keep him alive at the image in front of them. When they got closer to the table, Mary Margaret and David were still staring at them as Emma sat beside Henry and Killian sat beside Emma. Yet, none of them said anything, even if Emma could see that Mary Margaret was trying really hard not to talk. Ruby came to their table as if she knew what was going to happen, with a hot chocolate for Emma and a coffee for Killian and then left with a knowing smile.

After Ruby left, David was no longer able to stay quiet so he started to talk. “Is this a new development thanks to your date or something?” he asked Emma, pointing with his finger between her and Killian.

“Actually, we have something to tell you,” Emma said with a small, awkward smile at David.

Before she started her story, Emma looked at Killian who was scratching slowly behind his ear with his hook, trying to avoid looking at either of Emma’s parents while David was looking from Emma to Killian with narrowed eyes. Milah excused herself from the table and with a small smile at Emma, she went to the counter where Ruby and Belle were waiting.

Emma knew there was no point in delaying the story any longer, so she started to tell them about what had happened in Neverland, the real reason why Killian didn’t die back there and how they found that they were True Love. As the story came to an end, Emma was observing her parents’ reactions. Killian was holding Emma’s hand under the table while Emma was looking at Mary Margaret and David. She saw happiness on Mary Margaret’s face, her mother smiling softly at Emma while she was finishing the story, but Emma could see David had a bit of a hard time dealing with the fact that she and Killian were confirmed True Love.

“Don’t mind Charming, Emma. I am happy for you,” Mary Margaret told Emma, still smiling. Then she looked at Killian and spoke to him. “I am happy for you as well, Killian.”

“I am not saying I’m not happy!” David commented. “I just never imagined that my daughter’s True Love would be a pirate.”

Emma felt Killian let go of her hand from under the table and she looked at him. He was looking at David with a very serious expression on his face. “What’s the problem, mate? From what I know, you were a shepherd and Snow was a princess when you two met.”

David shook his head at him. “That’s different.”

“How exactly?” Killian said with a groan.

Emma dropped her hand in the middle of the table between the two men before either of them could say more. “Enough you two,” Emma snapped at them.

Emma looked at David as he closed his eyes for a few seconds and then opened them again and spoke to her. “Emma,” David started. “I’m happy for you. I hope you are happy too,” David said with honesty in his voice.

Emma looked at Killian and he winked at her. Then she looked at David again and answered him with a genuine smile. “I am happy.”

“Then I will try not to kill him,” David said softly and then added one more word. “Yet.”

At his words Emma rolled her eyes, while Mary Margaret slapped David on his shoulder. “Be nice,” she told her husband.

“I am happy for you two, you already know that. But,” Henry started to talk, moving his eyes from Emma to Killian. “When are you going to take me sailing again?” Henry asked Killian, indignant.

Killian looked at Henry and started to laugh. “Whenever you want, lad,” Killian said and then looked at Emma. “If Emma agrees that is.”

“Tomorrow!” Henry said excitedly.

“You have school tomorrow,” Emma cut him off.

Henry turned to look at Emma with wide eyes. “But Mom!”

“School first, sailing second, Henry,” Emma said putting an arm around his shoulders. “You are already behind on everything thanks to our not so pleasant trip to Neverland.”

Rolling his eyes, Henry finally agreed that they could wait until it was the weekend with the sailing lessons. They continued to talk for a bit and afterwards, Emma listened to Henry and Killian making plans to go sailing and then they moved the subject to Killian teaching Henry how to swordfight. At that point of the discussion, David joined them and tried to convince Henry that he was just as good as Killian at teaching sword fighting lessons. That was the beginning of the end. Both David and Killian got into a long debate on who was the better swordsman between the two of them and who had better tactics in fights.

Not being really interested in what David and Killian were talking about, Emma started to look around the diner. She saw Milah at the counter talking with Ruby and Belle but soon after that, Belle left them and went to sit with Gold who was just entering the restaurant and Ruby was called back to work. Before Ruby left, she gave Milah a glass filled with something and then went to do her job, leaving Milah alone at the counter.

Emma watched Milah sitting alone, drinking from her glass and decided that she should go talk to her. She let Henry talk to Killian and David about swords and made a sign to Mary Margaret pointing towards Milah to let her know where she would be if any of them needed her. Mary Margaret just nodded and Emma rose from her place and started to walk towards the counter.

“Drinking alone?” Emma said to Milah when she was beside her.

“It’s just wine,” Milah said, smiling too and showing Emma her glass.

“Wine sounds good,” Emma said, sitting on a free chair besides Milah. “Are you okay?” she asked the woman, seeing as Milah was so silent.

Milah looked at Emma and shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you are drinking alone,” Emma said pointing to the glass in Milah’s hand. “And you left our table.”

“You needed some alone family time,” Milah explained. “And I am still somewhat surprised from what I found out today.”

Emma nodded at her. “It was pretty big.”

“Yeah.”

Milah didn’t say anything after that. Instead, she moved her gaze from Emma to the glass of wine. Emma watched her as she looked almost lost at the glass. She could tell there was something more inside Milah’s mind and she was not fine.

“You look sad,” Emma said, making Milah look at her again.

Milah shaken her shoulders, “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“What am I going to do now?” Milah said to Emma with a lost look on her face.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked, looking at Milah with narrowed eyes.

Milah let out a deep breath and started to explain. “Well, for the last 28 years, I tried to find an answer to how it was that I was alive and also tried to find Killian. I traveled a lot, yes, but the main goal was to find answers to what happened to me. Now that I’ve found them, I don’t know what I am going to do anymore.”

Emma nodded with understanding at her. Milah probably felt like she had nothing else to do with her life now that she had all the answers she needed to piece together the puzzle that had been in her mind and now that she had also found Killian. Emma understood her better than anyone. Even she had felt like that once or twice in her life, not knowing what to do with her life, where she was going or what was her purpose.

“You’re thinking about leaving Storybrooke?” Emma asked Milah in a serious voice.

“I don’t know,” Milah answered honestly.

“You could stay here,” Emma proposed to her.

Milah looked at her with wide eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it?” Milah said, although it came out more like a question.

“Then what’s the problem?” Emma asked, a bit confused.

“Would anyone in this town want me here now that I know what really happened with me? I don’t want to intrude in anyone’s lives.”

“You won’t be,” Emma assured her quickly. “Storybrooke was never a boring town and it never will be. Besides you will have us, you will have Ruby and Belle, Killian and Henry.”

“I know of one person who will not be happy to have me here,” Milah said, looking behind Emma. Emma turned around and saw that Milah was looking at the table Belle and Gold were at.

Emma turned and looked again at Milah. “We can deal with Gold, trust me.”

Emma saw Milah opening her mouth to answer her, but then Milah’s eyes moved behind Emma again. Emma thought she was still looking at Gold and Belle, but then she felt a hand on her back. She turned and was met with Killian’s blue eyes.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked them with a smile.

“Talking,” Milah answered.

Killian raised an eyebrow at Milah’s answer. “About?”

“About what I should do now that I’ve found the answers to all of my questions,” Milah answered to him.

“Don’t you want to stay in Storybrooke?” Killian asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Emma smiled at his question and looked at him. “That’s what I told her.”

Emma saw Milah looking at them with wide eyes. “Do you two really want me here?” Milah asked with surprise in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t we, Milah?” Killian asked her.

“Well, because you two are together now and we were together many years ago? Wouldn’t this be strange?” Milah asked, even more surprised than before.

Emma started to laugh out loud, making both Killian and Milah look at her confused. Emma looked around the diner and when she spotted the person she was looking for, she turned back to Milah.

“Do you see that woman Milah?” Emma asked Milah, pointing towards the back of the diner where Kathryn was talking with a man. “When the curse brought everyone to this realm, my father was married to that woman. And my mother had a relationship with Doctor Whale.”

“What?” both Killian and Milah yelled at Emma’s confession.

Emma decided to not go into the details of those stories but instead, she turned to their main subject. “Trust me, nothing would be weirder than that. And they are getting along well with each other,” Emma finished, but then remembered how David liked to punch Whale from time to time for sleeping with Mary Margaret. “More or less. David still likes to punch Whale from time to time.”

“Your father likes to punch people in general, love,” Killian said laughing.

“Anyway. The point is,” Emma said, looking back at Milah, “that you should stay here.”

“I’ve learned that Storybrooke is a place for second chances, Milah,” Killian said, moving his gaze from Milah to Emma, and then continuing with a smile. “You should stay here with us.”

“Besides, you promised Henry more stories,” Emma reminded Milah.

At Henry’s mention, Milah’s eyes grew bigger and she smiled. “I did that, didn’t I?” Emma raised her eyebrows at her, smiling. “Okay. I will stay in Storybrooke,” Milah finally answered.

Emma smiled at Milah while she rose from her chair and went to hug Emma and Killian at the same time. Emma was surprised by the move, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she hugged Milah as well and smiled at her. After Milah let go of both of them, she asked Emma if she could go and talk to Henry. Emma told her that she didn’t had to ask for her permission to talk to Henry and watched Milah walk towards Henry.  Emma looked at Milah and Henry sitting together at the table. She realized from Milah’s gestures that the woman had asked her son something to which he started to nod rapidly and then Milah sat beside him at the table and started to talk while Henry was listening to every word that came out of her mouth.

As Emma watched the two of them, she felt Killian’s arm on her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. She looked up at him and smiled then put one hand on the hand he had on his shoulder and the other hand on the hooked arm Killian had around her abdomen.

“Looks like your father decided against killing me, after all,” Killian told her.

“He likes you.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Trust me,” Emma said looking at him with a small smile on her face. “David likes you but he also likes to mock you.”

“Well, love, I can’t say anything to that. I am just happy he has decided to let me live and so I can enjoy-,” Killian took a break to let her go. He turned her around, so she could face him and he put his palm on her cheek. “Us.”

“Us,” Emma repeated after him.

“Us,” Killian said again. “Are you okay with that?”

“With us?” Emma asked confused. They just went over that; they had admitted their feelings face to face an hour or two ago.

“Not with us, Emma,” Killian said laughing. “With people knowing about us,” he explained.

Emma thought about it. Having her parents, Henry, Milah or even Regina and Ruby knowing about her and Killian was one thing but having the whole town knowing about them was another. Emma had to admit she hadn’t thought about that when she decided to tell the truth to her parents and maybe, just maybe, telling them the truth at Granny’s, where half of the town was spending time, especially Leroy, wasn’t such a good idea. But she did it and now there was no way to back down from that and frankly, she didn’t really care. Yes, the whole town would know that she and Killian were together, but it was better than having to hide themselves.

Killian let out a groan that broke her out of her thoughts and Emma realized that he was still waiting for an answer from her.

“Yes!” Emma quickly said. “Yes, I am okay with people knowing about us. I am done with caring what people think.”

Hearing her words made Killian smile wide at her. “Does that mean I can kiss you when I want to?”

“I guess?” Emma said and when she saw Killian coming closer to her she raised a finger in front of him. “Only when David is not close to us.”

“David is not close right now,” Killian said teasingly.

“He is not,” Emma agreed with a smile.

Without another word, Killian leaned closer to her and put a hand on her hip. He pressed his forehead to hers and Emma closed her eyes. “I love you,” Killian whispered when his lips were almost on hers.

“I love you too,” Emma said.

Killian pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss, and for the first time ever she knew she didn’t have to worry about him leaving her or her walls coming between them.

It was True Love. Emma knew it. Killian knew it. Her parents knew it and most likely the whole town would know very, very soon.

[searchingwardrobes]

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 7/11

In this chapter, Emma sets off on a search for home, but is she only running? Meanwhile, Killian learns that a voyage may be in order to stop Pan’s evil schemes. I promise, this is the last chapter that Emma and Killian will be separated! I think (hopefully) your wait will have been well worth it ;) At any rate, this chapter has some really important revelations. Oh, and don’t try to make this story fit canon. Just don’t. Storybrooke really is just a normal town, and the only Once characters in it are the ones I have named. I haven’t forgotten about Snow and Charming, I promise. You just have to trust me! (I’ve said that a lot, haven’t I?)

Much thanks as always to the mods of the csrt event at @captainswanbigbang. Also thanks to @optomisticgirl​ and @shippingtheswann for their beta skills.

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: About 3k in this chapter

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 21

Emma wedges the last cardboard box into the backseat of her Bug, and Graham grunts as he slams the trunk shut. She’s honestly surprised he managed it. For someone with no roots, she sure was able to pack this car tight. Not that it takes much in a VW Bug, but still.

“Are you sure about this?” Ruby asks as Emma shuts the door.

“Yeah,” Graham says coming around the front of the car, “Tallahassee is an awfully long way from Maine.”

Emma shrugs. “There’s farther.”

Ruby rolls her eyes. “But you have a life here. Plus, if you stay, you get to be one of my bridesmaids.”

Ruby nudges Emma’s elbow, making her smile despite herself. “And I so want to wear those lovely dresses Bertie at Modern Fashions designed for you. What color was that again?”

“Salmon,” Ruby laughs, “but if you stay, I could convince her to do them in magenta instead.”

Emma chuckles too. “Now, that changes everything!”

“Now, Emma,” Graham cuts in, “it’s a long drive from here down to Florida. Pull over if you get tired, and make sure you check the oil regularly, and -”

“Would both of you stop?” Granny admonishes, shooing Ruby and Graham away so she can pull Emma in for a hug. “Don’t listen to them, sweetheart. You’re young, and you need to spread your wings.”

Emma nods against Granny’s shoulder, willing her tears not to fall. When the older woman releases her, Ruby claims a hug. When the brunette releases Emma, she clasps her by both shoulders and gives her a long, intense look.

“If you don’t find what you’re looking for, you’ll come home?”

Emma sighs. “I’m sorry, Ruby. Storybrooke’s been wonderful, but home is something I’m still searching for.”

Ruby shakes her head. “Or maybe you’re running.”

“Maybe. But when you really have a home, and you leave it, you just . . . miss it. I’m gonna keep running until I feel that.”

“Well, if you feel that for us -”

“Then I’ll be back.”

The two young women embrace again, and then Emma gets behind the wheel of the dilapidated yellow car she had saved for two months to buy in cash. Ruby’s ex, Billy, had done a ton of work on it for the cost of parts only, which had taken an additional two months in tips from the diner. Nevertheless, the Bug is now hers, and she has owned precious little in her life. She turns the key in the ignition, puts the car in gear, and waves goodbye as she pulls out of the lot in front of the inn. She watches Granny, Ruby, and Graham get smaller in her rearview mirror until she drives out of downtown Storybrooke.

There’s a stretch of countryside before she reaches the “Leaving Storybrooke” sign. For some reason, she glances in her rearview mirror again as she crosses the town line, but all she sees behind her is a long, lonely road. She sighs as she turns her gaze back out the front windshield.

She isn’t so sure the view there is any different.

Killian: Age 21

Killian picks his way gingerly through the thick foliage that runs along the ravine in the heart of Neverland. He shifts his grip on the parcels tucked beneath his right arm and swings his hook through the braken. Every time he comes to the island, the dreamshade is more prolific, daylight is shorter, and the trees drip with more lichen and moss. The scent of decay and death fill his nostrils. The fairies are right, the island is dying.

He releases a long breath of relief when he reaches the ravine and is away from the danger of the dreamshade. He ducks beneath the moss and vines covering the enchanted entryway, all of it thicker than it was on his previous visit. He taps his hook on the rock wall in the rhythm Tink had instructed, and it dissolves before him, revealing a tunnel lit with fairy magic. Finally he reaches a quaint wooden door covered in fairy runes. He touches them with his hook in the correct order, and then he hears the lock click. A greeting is on his lips, but he holds them back at the sight before him.

Wendy is in a rocker by the fireplace, singing a lullaby as she darns some of Michael’s socks. The boy himself is curled up in the bottom of the two bunks set into the wall, fast asleep with his thumb in his mouth.

She stepped away from me

And she moved through the Fair

And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there

And she went her way homeward

With one star awake

As the swans in the evening

Move over the lake

As the final line drifts over him, Wendy glances up from her mending and lets out a cry.

“Hook!”

She leaps up and races across the room, flinging herself into Killian’s arms. He lets out a grunt at the impact, barely managing to keep hold of his parcels. He glances over her shoulder and is shocked to see Michael sleeping through it all.

“What did you bring us?” she asks, eagerly taking the packages.

“Everything on your list,” he tells her proudly, “and one or two surprises.”

“Candy for Michael?” Wendy shakes her head when she sees Hook shrug. “You don’t need to spoil him.”

“And you don’t need to act like a little mother. How old are you now?”

“Thirteen,” she replies with a tilt of her chin.

Killian frowns. “You should be giggling with your friends and getting into mischief, not darning socks and worrying over how much candy your brother eats.”

“Or attempting to mother lost boys,” says a voice over Killian’s shoulder, and he turns to see Tink coming through an archway in the back wall with piles of blankets in her hands.

“Oh, the linens!” Wendy exclaims, taking the load from Tink far too eagerly. “It’s washing day,” she tells Hook.

“Don’t change the subject,” he reprimands, “what’s this about mothering lost boys?”

“Shh, Michael’s napping.”

“Wendy -”

“Ok, ok,” she huffs, dropping the bedding onto the small kitchen table, “so I sneak out sometimes into Pan’s camp -”

“Pan’s camp!” Killian exclaims, turning incredulous eyes on Tink, who just shrugs and shakes her head.

“When they’re all asleep,” Wendy clarifies, as if that makes it ok, “and I only go because the little ones cry for their mothers. I sing them back to sleep, you see, and -”

“And you could get caught by one of the older ones!”

“There’s no use talking to her, Hook,” Tink sighs, “Tiger Lily and I have already tried.”

Killian narrows his eyes at Wendy, but she avoids his look by ripping into one of the parcels he’s bought. “Lace!” she squeals. “Oh, Hook, you shouldn’t have!”

He turns bright red as she hugs him again. “Well, you said your handkerchiefs were shabby and needed lace, and the king’s navy was carrying this ridiculous gift for the crown princess from the Duke of Glowerhaven. Lord knows that woman doesn’t need any more frippery when her people are starving, so -”

“Just admit Wendy’s got you wrapped around her little finger and stop babbling,” Tink laughs.

He doesn’t even attempt to deny it. He can’t find a way to get Wendy and her brother home; the least he can do is brighten their days in some small way.

“Hook,” Tink says, lowering her voice so Wendy can’t hear, “we need to talk.”

“In my experience, I’m never in for a pleasant conversation when a woman says that.”

Tink just rolls her eyes and pulls on his arm. Wendy is too busy with her sewing basket and the new lace to notice as the fairy pulls him down the hallway and into her room.

“Why Tink,” he teases with a wink, “if you were getting lonely, you could have just said so.”

Tink scowls at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Funny, but some females are immune to your charms, pirate.”

“Not many,” he can’t help teasing with an arch of his brow. It’s true. He hasn’t lacked for willing and eager company at any port, though none of his conquests have succeeded in filling the aching hole inside him.

“I need to show you something -” she lifts a hand and rushes to add, “in my books of fairy lore.”

Tink pulls a cracked and faded tome from her bookcase. It’s so old that a puff of dust billows up as she opens it. Killian chokes as he waves his hook in the air to clear it.

“Is this about the pixie trees dying?”

“The island dying you mean,” Tink corrects, “which means Pan is dying, too. He and the island are connected.”

“We knew all this already,” Hook says, shaking his head, “and the why really doesn’t matter, in my opinion.”

“What we didn’t know was the connection between that and the little ones the shadow kept bringing to Pan.”

“Like Mason and Michael.” Killian looks over Tink’s shoulder at the book. He can’t make sense of the fairy runes, but he does recognize a sketch in the middle of the page. “Is that a flower?”

“A buttercup, specifically,” Tink answers, “and according to this prophecy there will be a special child with this mark.”

Killian rubs at his chin. “Felix said Mason didn’t have the mark, and then Michael mentioned something about it as well.” He picks up the fragile book, balancing it gingerly on his hooked forearm so loose pages won’t fall out. “What else does the book say about this child?”

“That it will be a boy with the heart of the truest believer. That his lineage will be both royal and common, magical and non-magical.”

Killian lifts his gaze from the page before him to lock it upon Tink. The pale color upon her cheeks makes his heart sink.”What are you not saying?”

Tink moistens her lips nervously. “The worst part is . . . that the heart of this child can restore life to the dying. Renew magic that has been lost. That’s why Pan is looking for this child.”

“But the child dies so that bastard can live?”

Tink nods grimly as Hook slams the book shut. Fury rises in his chest as he thinks of Mason, now nine years old, a fine pirate already, looking more and more like Milah with each passing day. He thinks of Michael, only six years old and sleeping with such easy trust in the other room. He knows from experience how cold-blooded Pan can be, but this?

“Too long have I let this demon elude me,” Killian growls, slamming his hook into the wooden desk before him. “I’ll gut him like a fish; I’ll end him once and for all.”

“But Hook, you and your crew have had how many skirmishes with the lost boys?”

Killian’s eyes flash. “You doubt me?”

“Of course not, but we have to be realistic. Pan has magic, you don’t. It’s why he always gets the -” Tink breaks off suddenly, her face turning deep red. “That is, I mean.”

“You can bloody well say it,” Killian grumbles, “he always gets the upper hand.”

Tink winces, then tentatively reaches out to him. “What it comes down to is this - it’s time you and your crew went on the offense. You have to leave Neverland, and I don’t just mean to visit your favorite ports or wreck havoc on King George’s Navy. I mean leave. Use the pegasus sail to search the realms and find -”

“You’re leaving?”

Hook and Tink whirl to see Wendy standing in the doorway holding a tea tray in her trembling hands. The sight cuts him deep. For some reason, taking care of people is Wendy’s way of coping. She deserves better. Tears well in her eyes as she gazes up at him. She thinks he’s a bloody hero for some reason

“Hook, are you leaving? For good?”

He sighs as he reaches out gently to take the tray from her hands before she drops it. “Nothing’s been decided yet, lass, but I may need to take a lengthy voyage to find someone. A boy like your brother, actually.”

“What about us?” she asks, her eyes wide now and her breaths coming fast. “You said you’d find a way to get us home.”

Killian closes his eyes, silently cursing himself. It was a promise he never should have made. Tink and Tiger Lily have searched every book of magic they own, and he has inquired of sorcerers and enchantresses at every port. They still don’t know of an antidote for the waters of Rainbow Falls.

“This can be good for you and Michael too,” Tink puts in. “Searching different realms means a myriad of magical possibilities.”

“But how long?” Wendy whispers. He and Tink can’t answer that question. In the silence, Wendy does something that takes him completely by surprise. She flings herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. “I’ll miss you. Please don’t be gone too long.”

Killian lifts his good hand tentatively and awkwardly pats Wendy on the head. He looks up nervously at Tink.

“I don’t even know where to begin looking.”

“Well,” Tink says hesitantly, “all we have to go on is the words of the prophecy. He’ll be very young, like the other boys. He’ll have one royal parent and one who is a commoner. One magical parent and one non-magical. Wait, no, I read this wrong . . . “

Killian steps away from Wendy to look again at the page Tink is perusing. Not that it makes any more sense to him now than it did moments ago.

“Of both a land of magic and a land of none.” Tink murmurs.

“Like my home,” Wendy says casually.

“Wait - what?” Killian asks, his heart suddenly pounding.

“My home,” she repeats, shrugging one shoulder, “there was no magic there. That’s why Michael and I kept going to the window to see the shadow. John told us it was silly but -”

“Wait a minute,” Killian says, shaking his head and taking in a sharp breath, “I’ve been to a land with no magic, too.”

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

Killian stands in front of the old familiar wardrobe for what feels like the millionth time. Not once in the last five years has it led him anywhere. Perhaps it was only waiting for this day . . .

Tink and Wendy had wanted to come with him to see it, but he feels that he has to do this alone. His fingers twitch at his right side, and he has to take several deep breaths before he reaches for the handle. He knows what this means. If he is to search Emma’s realm for the boy, he’ll have to test fate and see what happens when he lets the light that can take him back home fade. He also is unsure how he will explain this to Emma, not that anything about their friendship has ever made sense.

He closes his eyes, counts to three, then pulls on the knob just as he opens his eyes again. His breath rushes out when he sees nothing but an empty wardrobe. Swearing under his breath, he climbs inside, pounds at the inside walls, but finds them sturdy and unyielding beneath his fist.

Killian jumps back out in frustration, slamming the door of the wardrobe behind him. He stalks to his desk, shoving things aside to make room for maps and star charts. He’s heard the names of many of the realms: Wonderland, Oz, Arendelle, Camelot, Narnia. He’s even discovered star charts that can get them there with the aid of the pegasus sail. But a land without magic? There’s only one way he’s ever gotten to a land like that, and it is apparently barred from him.

No matter. Tink said the boy was of a magical land as well. He’ll simply have to start there. He breathes heavily as his gaze sweeps over the stack of maps before him. Ever since he and Liam were lads, he’s been fascinated with maps. They both were. The Brothers Jones, planning adventures across the realms.

“If you were here, Liam . . . “ he trails off, hanging his head as memories wash over him. Then he takes a deep breath and tightens his jaw. “If you were here, you would find this boy. You would be the hero.”

He taps his hook in agitation as he begins to plot a course. He’s no hero, but he’ll do this for Liam. For Milah. For Wendy.

Meanwhile, in a Land Without Magic . . .

Olivia Bridges has been a social worker for twenty five long years, and she’s seen a lot of things in her caseload. Yet she’s never seen a case like this. It should have been a slim volume of straight forward paperwork. Infants given up at birth were always immediately adopted. This one was especially ideal - the birth mother wanted a closed adoption. Those were rare these days. A successful, single woman had adopted the boy, taking him home from the hospital days after his birth.

Then she’d brought him back a month later before she’d even signed the final papers. Colic.

Olivia rolls her eyes remembering. The woman didn’t deserve to be a mother in her opinion. Not that anyone ever listened to her opinion.

Yet the boy’s file still could have ended there. Colic or no colic. But it didn’t.

Olivia pats the boy’s knee now. He is three years old and still has no home, despite his adorable mop of brown hair and large eyes like melted chocolate. The reasons have varied: colic, night terrors, seizures. None of it should have mattered.

She smiles down at him and reminds him that someone is adopting him today. He looks silently up at her, and she wonders if he’s already cynical at three. She rises, takes his hand in hers, and leads him into the next room.

A young man turns and smiles at them as they enter. An adoption by a single man as young as this one is rare, but in this child’s case, it may be the only option left. Besides, the man has gone through every government hoop necessary. He’s invested a considerable sum of money and passed physicals, psychological profiles, and home studies with flying colors. He’s also recently engaged to his boyfriend of the past year (who’s also passed every test). Honestly, Olivia’s only concern is that this one sticks.

“John Darling,” Olivia says, “meet your new son.”

Tagging:  @snowbellewells​  @kmomof4​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @teamhook​ @bethacaciakay​ @let-it-raines​ @welllpthisishappening​ @wellhellotragic​ @winterbaby89​ @xhookswenchx​ @courtorderedcake​ @branlovestowrite​ @hollyethecurious​ @vvbooklady1256​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @carpedzem​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @jennjenn615​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @spartanguard​ @shireness-says​ @scientificapricot​​ @stahlop​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @superchocovian​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​ @snidgetsafan​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @thislassishooked​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @nikkiemms​​@delirious-latenight-laughs​

[captainswanluver]

CS FF: Trust Your Heart

Summary:  Lucy tries to convince Officer Rogers that he is Captain Hook and that the blond woman in the storybook is his wife.  

 Rating: G

 Note: One of the things I am interested to see this season is Rogers’ relationship with Lucy.  I would love to see something like this happen.   I hope you enjoy it!  ~Steph

 …Trust Your Heart: Part 1/1...

Rogers tossed and turned all night long.  He couldn’t rid himself of the image of the beautiful blond in the storybook. ��Why did she seem so familiar?  Why did the sight of her make his heart race?  Why did the mere thought of her make it hard to breathe?  

He considered reading the book and looking at the rest of the pictures, but finally scolded himself for being silly.  There was no curse.  None of these people or their stories were real.  This was fiction.  It had nothing to do with the real world.  It had nothing to do with him.  And the beautiful woman was nothing more than a character in a book.

But still he couldn’t force himself to dispose of the book as Ivy had instructed him.  Something told him to hold onto it.  So the following morning he placed it in his locker at work.

…

“Excuse me,” the desk sergeant heard.

He looked up but saw no one. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and saw Lucy.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m here to see Officer Rogers.”

“It’s Detective Rogers now.  And who are you?”

She smiled brightly. “Lucy.  His granddaughter.”

He stifled a chuckle.  This was the kid he’d heard about.

“His granddaughter?  He’s a bit young to have a granddaughter, don’t you think?”

She shrugged.  “Well, step-granddaughter actually.  And he only looks young.  He’s actually a centuries old pirate.”

The desk sergeant burst out laughing at that one.  He shook his head and mumbled, “Rogers always attracts the crazies.”

“I’m not crazy!” Lucy shouted, her brow furrowing angrily.

Just then, Rogers appeared by the desk.

“Hey, Rogers, this little girl says you’re her grandpa.”

Rogers stared at Lucy for a long moment. What was she talking about?

He walked over to her.  “What are you doing here, love?”

“You have something that belongs to me.”

“I was told to dispose of it.”

“But you didn’t, did you?” she asked, tilting her head.

He lowered his eyes to the floor.

“I knew it.  You know something’s not right.  That’s why you didn’t get rid of it,” she said excitedly.

“I saw no reason to dispose of a perfectly good book.  I am going to donate it.”

“Did you look through it?” she asked.

He dropped his gaze from hers again.

“You did.”  She paused and said softly, “And you saw her.”

Rogers head snapped up.  “What?”

“You saw her.  The blond woman in the red leather jacket.  She’s the savior.  Emma Swan.”

Emma.  The name rolled around his head and then slipped from his lips as it had done a thousand times before.

“Emma,” he whispered.

“She’s your wife, your true love,” she said with a smile.

Wife?  Is that why she evoked such a reaction in him?  

“My wife?” he mumbled to himself.

“That’s right.  She’s the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.  You fell in love and got married.  Henry is Emma’s son and my father.  You’re his stepfather.  And that makes you my step-grandfather.”

Rogers shook his head, a nervous chuckle flowing from his mouth.  “Do you have any idea how bloody mad that sounds?” He paused and asked, “And so who am I?  Robin Hood?”

Lucy laughed and shook her head.  “No, silly.  You’re Captain Hook!”

She said it so loud that everyone in the station turned to look at them.  Rogers felt his cheeks begin to burn.  With a groan, he gently guided her by the elbow to the door and they stepped outside.

“Look, you seem like a good lass with an avid imagination, but that book isn’t real.  The characters are not real.  It was all made up.”

“That’s the curse talking.  It made everyone forget who they are.  You’re Captain Hook.  But since you turned into a hero you’re known as Killian Jones.”

“There is no curse,” he said.

Lucy reached out and took his right hand.  She placed it over his heart.  

“What are you doing?” he asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Emma,” she whispered.

Rogers felt his heart begin to race beneath her palm.

“What do you feel when you hear her name?  When you look at her picture?” she asked softly.

Rogers shook his head sharply and gently brushed her hand away.

“I have to get back to work.”

“Trust your gut.  You know something is wrong.  Deep down, you know I’m right.  When you believe in something, you never give up. You never gave up on Emma or your love.  And I won’t give up on you.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.  Rogers watched her go, his heart only now returning to normal.

...

Hours later, Rogers walked out of the precinct and started in the direction of his apartment.  Her voice stopped him in his tracks before he made it a few yards.

“Your shift was over an hour ago,” Lucy said.

Rogers sighed and turned around to face her.  “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“Why?”

“I told you.  I won’t give up on you.  I won’t give up on our family.”

“You’re wasting your time, lass.  Go home before it gets dark.”

Lucy reached into her backpack and pulled out the storybook.  “Bet you’d be wondering where this went to soon enough.”

His mouth dropped open.  “How did you get that?  It was in my locker.”

She shrugged.  “Turns out your police station doesn’t exactly have the best security.”

Rogers reached out to take it from her, but she snatched it away from his grip.

“It belongs to me anyway,” she said.

“Your grandmother...”

“Step-grandmother,” she corrected.

“Your step-grandmother does not wish for you to have it anymore.  She said it’s caused too much trouble.  I’m inclined to believe she’s right.”

“Trouble for her because she knows I’m right.  My mother is Cinderella and she’s her evil stepmother.  And I think she had something to do with casting the curse.”

“Lucy, it isn’t healthy to believe in things that aren’t real.”

“Tell that to the kids who still believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny,” she countered with a shrug.

“That’s different,” he replied weakly.

“That’s right.  It is.  Because they really aren’t real. But these stories and these characters are.  You just don’t remember.”

Rogers shook his head.  “It’s getting late and I’m tired.  I need to get home and so do you.”

He began to walk away when she flipped open to a page in the book and held it up to him.  

She pointed. “Look familiar?”

With a heavy sigh, he lowered his gaze to the picture.  He felt his breath catch in his chest at the illustration.  It was him.  With guyliner, dressed in leather, wearing a hook and operating a ship, but definitely him.  There was no mistaking it.

“That’s Captain Hook.  That’s you.”

He slowly forced himself to shake his head.  “Do I look like I wear guyliner and leather?”

Lucy gestured to his hand.  “You’re missing a hand, aren’t you?”

Rogers pulled off his glove and revealed his prosthetic hand.  “But no hook.”

Lucy groaned in frustration. “Of course no hook.  You’re cursed!”

Rogers finally tore his eyes away from the illustration.  “It’s just a character in a book who bears a resemblance to me.  That’s all.”

“But-...”

“Goodbye, Lucy,” he said, cutting her off, and then turned on his heel.

“If you won’t trust your gut, then trust your heart.  It’s never wrong,” she called after him.

He paused and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, before continuing on.

…

Rogers suffered through another sleepless night.  He couldn’t get the image of the woman and the man that looked just like him out his head.  Every time he closed his eyes, he saw them.  And Lucy’s words kept rolling around in his head.

Soon, it was morning and no amount of coffee could give him the energy he needed to get through the day.  He stepped outside his apartment and almost tripped over a pair of legs.

“You look awful,” Lucy said.  “Sleepless night?  Gee, I wonder why.”

Rogers eyes grew wide at the sight of her.  “What are you doing here?  How did you know where I live?”

She stood up and faced him.  “I followed you home yesterday.  You know, if you’re going to be a detective, you might want to be a little more aware of your surroundings.”

“There’s a word for that.  It’s called stalking,” he said.

She shrugged.  “I’ll take my chances.”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Would you believe professional development day for the teachers?”  

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Okay, then I won’t even try.”

“I’m taking you to school.  Come on.”

Lucy didn’t budge.  “You have a wife out there who is missing you.  Don’t you want to get back to her?”

Rogers sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  “I don’t have a wife.”

Lucy pulled the book out and flipped to a page towards the end. She pointed at an illustration of the man that resembled him and the blond woman kissing after getting married.  

“Then what about this?  This was your wedding day.  You were both so happy.”

Rogers felt his hand lifting automatically and he ran it across the picture.

“You feel something, don’t you?  What you two have is true love.  No curse can take that away.  It’s still inside of you.  You’re connected forever.”

He dropped his hand and said softly. “It’s just a story.”

Lucy flipped back in the book.  “One of the best love stories ever.”  She began pointing at pictures.  “Here’s you two on the beanstalk after you met.   And having your first kiss in Neverland.  Here’s your first date.  Here’s when you died but Emma went to the Underworld to try to save you.  She couldn’t, but you still found a way back to her.  Look how happy you two are.  Nothing can keep you apart.  And here’s when you proposed twice and then here’s your wedding again.”

Rogers stared at the pictures, his heart beating more quickly at each one.  They looked so happy, so in love.

Lucy went on.  “And here is when the Black Fairy took Emma’s memories.  But when she saw your picture in the storybook she knew you.  In her heart, she knew you.  Just like right now in your heart, you know her.  She fought to get back to you and I know you’ll fight to get back to her now.  You always have.”

Rogers shook his head.  “Stop it.  Please.”

“But I-...”

“No, I can’t listen to anymore of this.  I need to get to work and you need to get to school.  Let’s go.”

Lucy’s face fell, but she followed after him.

…

After most shifts, Rogers liked to go sit by the water.  It helped calm him and clear his mind.  He always sat on the same bench.  But today he found his bench occupied by a familiar face.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down beside Lucy.  

“You’re relentless,” he said.

She turned to him with a smile.  “It’s a family trait.  Trust me.”

“So, I assume you’re still following me then.”

“Nope, just a lucky guess.  I figured you’d be drawn to the water.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then slowly bobbed his head.  “Ah, yes, of course.  I was the captain of a ship.”

“The Jolly Roger.  And you were the best there ever was.”

They lapsed into silence for a few moments as they stared at the water.

“Why is this so important to you?” he asked, turning toward her.

“Because it’s my family.  My parents belong together and they don’t even remember each other.  And you belong with Emma.”

“Sometimes, lass, we want something so badly we make ourselves believe it.  I know you want a father.”

“I have a father.  And I’m going to convince him I’m right.  Just like I’m going to convince you.”

Rogers smiled.  “I admire your determination.”

“He’s not the only one who doesn’t remember his child, you know,” she said softly, meeting his gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“You.  You and Emma have a daughter.”

Rogers eyes widened.  “A daughter.”

“Her name is Leia.  She’s six years old and I know she misses her daddy.”

Leia.  The name rolled around his head and made his heart race just like Emma’s.

“I have a daughter,” he whispered.

Lucy nodded.  “Yes, and you and Emma deserve a chance to raise her together.”  She paused and swallowed roughly.  “I know this all sounds crazy.  But if there is even the smallest part of you that feels something, then you owe it to yourself to investigate it.  You’re a detective now.  Start detecting.”

Rogers shook his head and groaned,  “This is bloody ridiculous.”

“Here,” Lucy said, placing the book in his lap.  “Read your love story.  It will make you believe.”

He paused, slowly running a hand down his face.  “Hypothetically, let’s say I believe you.  What do you want from me?”

She shrugged matter-of-factly.  “I want you to help me break the curse and reunite our family.”

With that, she stood up and walked away.

Rogers sighed, shaking his head and muttering,  “Oh, is that all?”

…

Rogers endured another sleepless night, but this time it was because he spent it reading the storybook.  He read the entire thing from cover to cover.  He read about every important moment Captain Hook and Emma Swan had shared.  And there was no denying it.   He felt that connection deep in his heart and soul.  It didn’t make any sense, but he couldn’t deny how he felt.  

He wasn’t surprised to find her sitting outside his door again that morning.  

“Another professional development day for the teachers?” he asked with a wink.

She grinned up at him.  “How did you know?”

He chuckled and sat down beside her.  He turned to her.  “So...how do we break the curse?”

A huge smile spread across her face and she threw her arms around his neck.  She buried her face in his shoulder.

“Thank you, Grandpa,” she whispered.

Rogers laughed and pulled back, shaking his head.  “Perhaps we can ease into the whole grandpa thing.  This is still new to me.  It will take some time to adjust.”

Lucy nodded.  “You got it.”

Rogers stood up and extended his hand to her.  “Come on, lass.  We’ve got work to do.”

Lucy grinned as she slipped her hand in his.

...THE END...

Thanks for reading!  I hope you enjoyed it.  I’d love to know what you thought. ~Steph

[unfolded73]

This Graceful Path (15/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.)

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapter 3 and 9 and one later chapter. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 15

As Regina mixed the ingredients of the spell in the cauldron in her vault, Killian was finding it more and more difficult to ignore the excited capering of his near-constant companion, the manifestation of the Dark One that continually plagued him.

“Almost here, almost here,” it cackled, prancing around the enclosed space.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Killian asked Regina, his teeth clenching. He tried to keep his focus on Regina and not look directly at the avatar of Rumpelstiltskin.

“It takes how long it takes. You don’t want me to get this wrong, do you? I can’t exactly get more of this true love potion very easily. Unless you and Miss Swan want to try generating some?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

Killian resisted the urge to pick up one of Regina’s many bottles and throw it against the wall. “I don’t love her,” he gritted out, his patience as thin as tissue paper.

“Oh, no? I saw those yearning looks.”

He could feel his jaw spasming. “I did what was necessary to keep her from suspecting me of Gold’s murder.”

Regina opened a wide-mouthed jar, inspected its contents, and added a pinch of whatever was inside to her cauldron. She gave him the briefest glance as she did so. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Dark One.”

“Just get this done. It won’t take long before they realize I tricked Emma into giving me the potion, and that’s assuming someone doesn’t discover you’re missing from your jail cell first.” He stalked back out to the entrance to the crypt, looking for any sign of movement in the graveyard. Seeing no one, he returned through the secret passageway to Regina’s side in time to see purple smoke roiling out of the cauldron and across the floor.

“What is that?” he asked.

“It’s magic,” she said, a wide grin spreading across her face.

~*~

David began to stir as Mary Margaret burst through the library doors. Emma had pulled him out of the elevator and onto the solid floor; she didn’t trust that elevator not to suddenly plummet to the bottom of the cavern without warning.

“David!” Mary Margaret cried, dropping to her knees at his side. “What happened?”

“He had a run-in with a dragon,” Emma said. “Oh and P.S., there was a dragon underneath the library. Totally normal.”

“I’m okay,” he said, trying to sit up while Mary Margaret pushed down on his shoulder to keep him lying down.

Next through the door were the paramedics, followed by the Blue Fairy. David waved the paramedics away, continuing to assert that he wasn’t hurt.

“You were knocked out for a while; just let them do your jobs,” Emma said.

“And we have no idea where Killian is?” Mary Margaret asked.

“I don’t understand. You found something? Where is it?” asked Blue.

“We were double-crossed,” Emma said. “Killian stole it; I have no idea where he is.”

“Maybe he didn’t steal it; maybe something bad happened to him,” Mary Margaret said hopefully.

“No, he stole it; he pretended the elevator was broken so that I would throw the potion up to him.” Emma leaned on the circulation desk, suddenly exhausted. “I guess he is just a pirate.”

“Emma, may I speak to you in private for a moment?” the Blue Fairy asked.

Seeing that David has acquiesced at least to getting his vital signs checked by the paramedics, Emma led the fairy outside. The winter wind was bitterly cold, and Emma took her gloves out of her pockets and pulled them on. “What is it?”

“Mr. Gold’s murder. I assume it’s still unsolved?”

“It’s kind of the least of my worries at the moment, but yeah, it’s still unsolved.” Emma folded her arms across her chest, her eyes darting around Main Street for any sign of a threat.

“Most everyone in this town is too young to know the tale, but no one hated the Dark One more than Captain Hook,” Blue said in a hushed tone.

Emma didn’t think her heart could sink any lower; she was wrong. “What’s the Dark One?”

“Mr. Gold. Rumpelstiltskin. He was a very powerful being in our land, a being of powerful dark magic. Many generations ago, Rumpelstiltskin’s wife fell in love with a pirate captain and left her family behind to become a pirate herself. Years passed, years in which Rumpelstiltskin became the Dark One. The next time he met his wife and this pirate, he exacted his revenge for her betrayal. He killed his wife, and he took the hand of the pirate who had stolen her away. The pirate vowed that day to never rest until he had killed Rumpelstiltskin. He went to Neverland to try to find a poison that would destroy the Dark One, but he was never successful.”

“That pirate being Killian, I take it. So even though they were cursed, he could have known on some level that he wanted to kill Gold,” Emma said, her mind moving quickly. “Especially after I came to town and the curse started to weaken.”

“Oh yes, your presence may very well have been the trigger. Bringing back enough of Captain Hook’s memories to revive his vengeance. But there’s something even worse.” Emma could see fear in Blue’s eyes.

“Worse than the fact that I dated a murderer? Do tell.”

“Was Mr. Gold stabbed with a dagger, by any chance?” Blue asked.

Emma blinked. “Yeah, a curved blade. Why?”

“Before the curse was broken and without magic in this land, Mr. Gold likely would have been vulnerable to any kind of attack. But if he was stabbed with the Dark One’s dagger, then the dark power would have transferred to the person who killed him and they would have become the next Dark One.”

Emma blinked, confused. “Wait, you said ‘dark’, like, four times and you lost me. What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if Captain Hook killed Rumpelstiltskin with the dagger, then he is now the Dark One.”

“And what kinds of powers does he have exactly?”

“Well, in this land, not many—”

“A curse!” came a shout from down the street. Emma turned and saw Leroy running toward them. “A curse is coming!” Behind him, billowing purple smoke seemed to fill the horizon.

“What the hell is that?” Emma said as the smoke approached.

~*~

Regina and Killian stood staring at each other in the aftermath of the spell. “Well?” he asked. “Did it work?”

She held her hand out, palm up, and a fireball appeared above her hand. “It worked.” She eyed him speculatively. “Try to do something.”

“I don’t know the first thing about magic,” he said.

“I’m not sure that matters; you’re the Dark One.”

Closing his eyes, he imagined himself behind Regina. He felt a rush and a pulling deep in his abdomen, and when he opened his eyes, he was behind Regina, red smoke dissipating around him.

Regina turned, looking at him with some mix of trepidation and approval. “See? How did that feel?”

He inhaled deeply, then let the breath out. “Good.” For the moment, the Rumpelstiltskin apparition was leaving him in peace.

Regina swayed closer to him. “And what are you going to do now, Captain?”

He eyed her with distrust. “Why? Are you worried about what I might do to you?”

“Not worried, just… curious. All you cared about for all those lonely decades was getting your revenge,” she murmured, her hand coming up and her fingernail scraping against the chest hair above his shirt collar. “Now you’ve awakened from a curse to find your revenge is already achieved. What does that leave for you? Even the Dark One can’t resurrect the dead.”

He stepped backward, away from her touch. “What about you, your majesty? Still going to try to kill Snow White?”

Regina blinked, looking as if she’d been so focused on getting her magic back, she hadn’t thought about what would come next. “Right now I just want my son,” she admitted.

“Well, good luck to you.”

“And what is it you want, Captain?”

He stared off into the middle distance. “Save for my ship, not a thing in this realm or any other.” With a flick of his wrist, he disappeared in a puff of red smoke.

Killian materialized in his apartment. He blinked around at it, feeling like he’d lived here in another lifetime. Much had changed. Now he knew what he was, and what he’d done.

Walking over to the window, he looked out at the ocean. The sky was slate gray and the water was choppy. There would be snow before nightfall.

They’re coming, Dearie.

“I know.” He could sense the approach of two, no, three people. He waited, his shoulders tense.

He heard the twang of a bowstring, and without effort, he turned and snatched the arrow out of midair before it pierced his chest. With an annoyed eye roll, he flicked it aside. Looking up, his eyes met Snow White’s. Her bow was already drawn back with another arrow, ready to fire.

“Don’t bother,” he told her. “Those arrows won’t hurt me. Nor will that sword or that gun,” he said over her shoulder to David and Emma. At the sight of the pain in Emma’s eyes, his heart stuttered in his chest. He ignored it. “Believe me, I’ve tried to kill the Dark One before. It’s nearly impossible.”

“Sounds to me like you successfully killed the Dark One,” Emma said, the tremor in her voice almost covered up, but he could still hear it. “Where’s the dagger, Killian?”

He laughed. “In a safe place, Sheriff. Although, kudos to you for finding it the first time. If only you’d unwrapped it and saw that it bore my name, this might have turned out differently. I do admire your adherence to police procedure; surprising for someone with your criminal record, but certainly admirable.”

“Good, you can admire my police procedure while I arrest you for murder.”

Killian thought about where he wanted to go, then there was that tug, and just like that, he was behind the trio of do-gooders, standing in his own doorway. “How are you going to arrest me if you can’t catch me?” he asked. The three of them whirled around, their eyes flicking to each other with unease. “Why do you think we brought magic to Storybrooke, love? So that no one could control us.” “Us?” asked Snow.

“Oh, have you not checked your jail cells yet? They are down one Evil Queen. You’re not going to be able to hold her either, not with her powers.”

“You allied yourself with Regina?” David asked. He seemed to just now be absorbing the magnitude of Killian’s betrayal.

“Not my first choice, I’ll admit, but she was the only one who could use that lovely potion you freed from Maleficent to bring magic to this sorry town.” He sauntered back into the apartment, between Snow and Emma, and flopped down on the sofa. “Without magic, I would have soon been sharing the jail with her.”

“How did you lie to me?” Emma asked. “I can tell when someone’s lying, but you always seemed to be telling me the truth. Is that a power of the Dark One?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, but in my case, I didn’t set off your lie detector because I didn’t know I was lying.” He felt the sudden need for her to know that he his betrayal had not stretched back to before the curse broke, even though he could sense the darkness inside trying to stop him from making this admission. “I killed Gold, but my mind suppressed that fact until the curse was broken. I suppose the darkness did that so I wouldn’t deliver you a tearful confession in my sorry state as Storybrooke’s reclusive harbormaster. I don’t really know for sure.”

She’s trying to trick you, the voice in his head said. Don’t tell her any more.

“How did you find the dagger in the first place?” Snow White asked.

“Oh, that’s the funniest part,” Killian replied. “I followed Gold that day and found him burying it in the woods. I didn’t have to look for the dagger; he led me right to it.”

“You told me you couldn’t drive,” Emma said.

“I implied it. I never actually said I couldn’t drive.”

“And us?” Emma asked, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment immediately upon asking the question, but she pressed on. “What was that?”

Give her nothing, Dearie, the voice said. We know there’s no love left in you. Not since Milah.

“A way to pass the time,” he said after a brief war within. “A pretty blonde distraction from the darkness I didn’t yet comprehend.”

“So you did lie to me,” she whispered. The sheen of tears in her eyes made him tremble, made him desperate to go back to before when he was just Killian Jones. Not Captain Hook. Not the Dark One.

Of course, you lied, the darkness whispered.

He shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “Perhaps your lie detector doesn’t work when you’re desperate to believe something.”

He could see in that moment Emma become harder, her walls slamming back up in an instant. “Okay, so you’ve got us,” Emma said. “We can’t arrest you. We can’t hurt you. What are you going to do? What is Regina going to do?”

He held his hand and his hook up in a placating gesture. “I’ve no plans for world domination, darling. If you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone. As for the Evil Queen, I can’t speak for her. I do know she’s very interested in getting Henry back.” He felt guilty at that; he didn’t want that innocent lad back in Regina’s clutches, regardless of their brief alliance.

Emma looked at her parents fearfully. “Call Ruby.”

~*~

Ruby was standing behind the bar and drinking from a glass of whiskey when they arrived at the diner. Henry sat calmly on one of the bar stools, his legs kicking back and forth and a piece of cherry pie in front of him.

“I held her off,” Ruby said, her hands visibly shaking.

“How?” Emma asked.

“She’s not only Red Riding Hood,” Henry said. “She’s the wolf.”

Neither David nor Mary Margaret seemed surprised, the latter moving behind the bar to give Ruby a comforting hug. “You knew about this, huh?” Emma asked.

“Red’s an old friend,” Mary Margaret explained.

“Regina has magic, but she clearly didn’t want to use it in a way that would endanger Henry’s safety,” Ruby explained.

“I was thinking,” Henry said, his mouth full of pie. After swallowing his bite, he continued, “Maybe we should talk to her. Maybe there’s a compromise.”

“I doubt there’s any compromise Regina would accept, kid.”

Emma saw that same guilt she’d seen earlier in Henry’s eyes. Everything that happened to Regina now, he felt responsible for.

Slumping down in one of the booths, Emma felt exhaustion slam into her like a speeding bus. “Okay, we’ll talk to her. In any case, we’ll have to deal with it in the morning. I can’t do anything else today.”

“Finish up your pie, and then we’ll head back to the loft,” David said with a pat on Henry’s back.

“Okay, Grandpa.”

Mary Margaret was finishing a call as she sank into the booth across from Emma. “That was Blue. The spell that brought magic back restored Pinocchio. So that’s one good thing.”

“Yeah, good.”

“Emma, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

Emma clicked her mouth shut, shrugging.

“I’m here for anything you need. If you want to scream, or cry, or… anything.” She reached for Emma’s hand, but Emma pulled it away, folding her arms protectively across her chest.

“I don’t do that. I’m not a sharer. I don’t think a ‘good cry’ really helps,” she said, making finger quotes.

“But Emma—”

“Killian isn’t who I thought he was. It sucks. All I can do is focus on Henry, and protecting this town, and move on.”

“We’ll see you guys back at home,” David called, ushering Henry out the front door.

Ruby put a cup of coffee in front of Emma that she hadn’t asked for, but she was grateful for it all the same. “Thanks, Ruby.”

“Oh please, thank you. If it were up to me, you could eat here for free for life,” Ruby responded. “You woke us all up from that curse.”

Emma shrugged. “I didn’t really even mean to, it just happened.”

“Well I’m still going to thank you,” Ruby said, turning to leave. “Oh, and for the record, it’s not up to me, so you probably can’t eat here for free for life,” she called from behind the counter.

That made a laugh bubble out of Emma, and the laugh unlocked the box inside where she’d crammed all of her emotions. She started to cry. This time when Mary Margaret reached for her hand, Emma let her hold it. With her free hand, she pulled a napkin out of the dispenser on the table and held it to her eyes.

“I went years not opening my heart to anyone because I’d learned that when you open your heart, you get hurt,” Emma said softly. “Then I finally start to trust someone again, and…”

Mary Margaret’s sad face only made Emma feel worse. “I’m so sorry,” she said again.

“I was starting to…” She wanted to kick herself for her own stupidity. “I was starting to imagine a future with him. I thought he loved me, and I thought… I thought maybe I loved him.”

“I know you’re hurting, and there’s nothing I can say to make it better,” Mary Margaret said. “Just know that things will get easier, in time.”

Exhaling loudly, Emma crumpled up her napkin and tossed it on the table. “Yeah, whatever.” She knew logically her mother was right, but right now she didn’t think she could stand thinking about this for another second. “Let’s go home. I want to go to bed and sleep for a week.”

~*~

“And if we can get back to our land, we can secure her in the caves where we used to keep Rumpelstiltskin,” Mary Margaret was saying as Emma awoke in her bed. She looked over at the small cot in the corner and saw Henry was still asleep.

“What makes you think we’ll ever be able to get back there, Snow? We don’t have any means of opening a portal to the Enchanted Forest.”

“It’s only been a day since the curse broke, Charming; have a little bit of hope.”

Emma stole silently out of bed and crept toward the stairs to hear them better. Peering over the edge of the floor, she could look down and see the tops of their heads.

“Well, in the meantime, we need to figure out how to protect the town from Regina. And possibly Hook as well; I don’t necessarily believe he’s going to leave us alone because he said so.”

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret replied. “Another reason we need to figure out a way to get all of us home. We’ll be better equipped to deal with Dark One in our kingdom.”

“Were you able to talk to Emma about him?” David asked.

“A little bit; she closes herself off when she’s feeling vulnerable.”

“Something to do with the fact that she grew up without parents, I guess.”

Mary Margaret hugged him. “So we do the best we can for her now and move forward. There’s no point in looking back.”

Emma decided to make her presence known. “To save you from asking me my opinion,” she said as she walked down the stairs, “I’m not interested in living the rest of my life in fairytale land.”

“Emma!” Guilt was written all over Mary Margaret’s face as she whirled to face her daughter. “I thought you were still asleep.”

“Clearly,” Emma muttered, making for the coffee pot. “As for protecting the town from Regina, I’m going to meet with her today.”

“Emma, it’s too dangerous. She’s got magic, and you have…” Mary Margaret gestured helplessly. “A gun. Which she could probably disarm you of in seconds.”

“Thanks for your support, but I have a plan.”

“What plan?” David asked.

“One you’re not going to like.”

~*~

The beach house was quiet as she approached it. She wondered if she should knock on the other door of the duplex and inform Billy that his neighbor was an immortal dark wizard now. Perhaps there was something in the lease forbidding any tenants who were immortal dark wizards. Probably not, since the lease had been held by Mr. Gold. “The OG Dark One,” Emma whispered to herself, and then let out a morbid little giggle. What had her life become?

Putting aside the issue of the neighbor for the moment, she knocked on Killian’s door. He may be capable of turning her into a newt or whatever, but she’d have to assume he didn’t care to. Killian was the last person she wanted to see with her heart a gaping, ugly wound, but for Henry, she would endure any torture.

The door swung open of its own accord, and Emma walked into the apartment cautiously, feeling for her gun in its holster. She knew shooting him wouldn’t stop him, but it still felt better to know she was armed. Maybe she could slow him down.

She purposefully kept her eyes averted from the bedroom as she walked into the main part of the apartment, trying her best not to imagine the last time she’d been in there. How until she’d awoken to his nightmare ramblings, she’d felt safe and at peace in a man’s arms, something she hadn’t thought she’d ever experience again. No surprise it had been short-lived, given her terrible track record, but for a little while, she’d let herself believe he was different.

Well, he was different, that part was certainly correct, she thought, almost laughing again at how ludicrous all of this was.

“Swan,” Killian said from where he was sprawled on the sofa, his eyes closed. “What are you doing here?”

Chapter 16

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “My Eyes, They Speak for Me” (1/3)

Summary: Canon divergence from 3x13 onward, where Walsh never reveals himself and Storybrooke isn’t where it should be. Emma and Killian have to not only find a way back to Storybrooke and Emma’s family, but keep each other and Henry safe in the process.

Rating: T... for now.

A/N: So *wiggles fingers* hello, @swankkat! I am your (omfg i’m so sorry it’s so late) GFSS! I had every intention of having this done for New Years, but um, well, the easy explanation is that @phiralovesloki maaaaaaaaaay have had a bit of a hand in the outlining of this fic (and we both know how truly brilliant she is) so I think you know how this story goes. My “Quick Oneshot” plan definitely got thrown out the window months ago. And instead I replaced it with “Well, 11k for the first half a fic is okay, too.” Part 2 is in progress, and that’s definitely where more of the ticky boxes you checked off start to come into play. 

This is the continuation from a fic I started back during au week, so if the beginning looks familiar to anyone reading this, that’s why.

Edit: Now available on FFN and Ao3!

The moments driving away from Storybrooke are painful because there in her rear-view mirror, she has to say goodbye. She memorizes the details quickly before she forgets them forever: her parents crying, Regina sullen and heartbroken, Neal wistful and sad over what could’ve been, and Hook… She swallows down the sob that threatens to break free.

 Her family, her past, her future, all huddled together at the town line as the curse comes to take them away. She turns it into a joke as she puts the Bug in gear and drives forward. My parents, my ex, and a pirate walk into a bar… and the absurdity pushes a smile onto her face. She’s wearing that smile when they cross the town line and…

 She doesn’t know why she’s smiling, other than her son is in the passenger seat taking in the scenery like he’s never seen it before. Which is ridiculous, of course, because he saw it on the drive up. This was just what they needed. A small escape from reality before starting fresh. She’s not excited about finding a new place to live, or buying new clothes, or finding a new school for Henry, but she knows it is all stuff that has to be done when they get to New York.

Three weeks after they find the perfect apartment, Emma realizes the cord tied around her wrist is a lace of a shoe or a boot or something, but she doesn’t remember who it belonged to or why she wears it. She also can’t find her swan pendant, but figures it must’ve been lost in the fire in Boston. It makes her a little sad, to not have that talisman of what was lost, but with Henry at her side, who needs a necklace?

 A couple weeks later she starts having strange dreams. One is of Neal, which is odd because she hasn’t seen him since he left her to take the fall for the watches, and she hasn’t even thought about him since Henry asked about his father when he was ten. Or was he younger? Or was he older? She tries to remember that talk but it’s like reaching into her purse for a stick of gum. She knows it’s in there, but she just can’t find it.

 She dreams about pirates and wolves, and wakes up tugging on that shoelace on her wrist and the urge to drink rum until everything feels normal again. She scrunches up her nose at the thought, because rum over her cornflakes doesn’t sound like the worst idea she’s ever had and that in itself is not normal at all.

 “Henry, do you ever dream about pirates?” she asks over breakfast.

 “Like Jack Sparrow?” he counters, eyebrow raised in question, and the gesture snaps at a chord in her memories but it’s that stick of gum all over again. She laughs it off and tells him they need to stop watching movies before bed so she stops having weird dreams. Of course, even after they put a gap between movies and bedtime, she still has the dreams, even if she can’t fully remember them.

 Somehow, they feel like something private she should cherish and hold on to, as long as she can.

 -x-

 Nights in the Enchanted Forest are quiet, more so than Killian wants to think about. There’s no occasional rumble of an automobile, or the other sounds he didn’t realize he’d gotten used to in the land without magic. So he drinks. He drinks and gambles and loots and says the appropriate pirate things at the proper times.

 When they get through a particularly fruitful raid, the crew pools together some money and buys the time of a pretty lass with curly brown hair. That his crew has chosen his old preferences instead of long, golden hair speaks volumes with how much he’s shared with them lately. It matters not, as he hands her another sack of coins and sends her on her way, preceding a debacle with a mermaid that he’d rather not have dealt with at all.

 He keeps his word and thinks of Emma no less than once per day.

 When he gets the Jolly Roger back, it’s the first he’s felt right since coming back to this land. The wood is steady beneath his feet even when the sea is rocky with storms, and he sleeps through the night for the first time in ages to the gentle sway of the ship when it calms back down.

 He dreams of Emma when it’s least convenient, when he’s gone to bed cold and lonely with too many libations in his system. He mostly dreams of that one damn kiss he got from her before it all went to hell. She’s there in his dreams with that sad smile and one single word in response to his confession before their departure, not a single second of hesitation between the two, and the hope that shot straight through his heart in that instant. He dreams of the glowing red lights as they went over the town line, how he could see them until the smoke of Pan’s curse got too thick, and how he’d never seen any two beams look more sinister.

 In the daytime, it’s back to his normal demeanor and internal sighs. When they make port, he sees a flash of blonde and almost goes after it before resigning himself to the fact that it was not Emma, and he had to give his foolish heart a rest for falling in love with a woman he will never see again.

 It’s not until he gets a message sending him back to the land without magic that the hope he covets in his dreams starts to materialize itself again in his chest.

 It’s not until he’s standing outside an apartment building in New York City that the hope threatens to overrun his emotions, as he sees a flash of blonde hair and knows it belongs to the one he wants it to belong to.

 But it’s far too late at night and she’s just arriving home from some sort of employment, so he returns to Baelfire’s old apartment and restlessly tosses around on the couch until he can return to Emma’s building in the morning.

 -x-

 There’s this really beautiful moment, right after Emma takes the memory potion, that she’ll cherish forever. It’s this perfect second where her mind is in order, her thoughts and memories compartmentalized with everything she thinks she’s been through. And after that singular moment, it’s like uninvited guests barge in and throw their baggage everywhere, covering every surface from floor to ceiling.

Looking at the man standing across from her and acknowledging that she knows him takes a great deal of effort, especially as she wades through thoughts of him and Neverland, his lips hungrily moving against hers, which is almost a complete contrast to the way he kissed her when she opened the door for him the other morning. She says his name, more a reflex than anything, and his face transforms from the uncertain and worried look he was previously giving her, to one of cocky reassurance. When he asks if she missed him, she swallows hard.

 With everything swimming together in her head, she’s unable to think straight, so does the only thing she can do and invites him back to her place for a drink and an explanation. He’s open and honest with her, admitting that he left the group, left her parents because there was nothing left for him. His quiet admissions that he came back to save her gives her goosebumps, and she’s glad she’s wearing long sleeves and can hide her reaction behind a sip of her rum and asking more questions.

 When Walsh shows up, her stomach drops through the floor. Explaining to Hook that he’s her boyfriend sucks, and telling him that they’ve had a happy relationship for eight months sucks worse, because he looks like some combination of angry, sad, and jealous and she has no idea what to do with that, so she tells him to stay put while she takes Walsh to the rooftop patio to talk to him.

 “Emma, it’s okay to make a bold, romantic gesture without passing it off as a housekeeping malfunction,” Walsh says, that smirk she loves on his face and that twinkle in his eyes.

 Oh god, he thinks she’s going to accept his proposal, and this is just as bad as the pirate brooding in her apartment right now.

 “Walsh,” she starts, and his heavy sigh indicates that he knows what she’s going to say. “I can’t marry you.”

 In their eight months together, they never fought. They had minor disagreements over who paid the bill and who chose the movie they were going to watch, but they never fought, and this is the closest they’ve gotten to it. He acts affronted by her sudden refusal, and the fact that she has history. She’s not totally lying when she says she blocked it out.

 “If you love this life, then keep it,” he urges. “Stay. Just stay.” And it sounds so simple when he says it like that. She’s about to respond that she can’t, but he pleads his case. “You won’t find a storybook romance, Emma. You won’t find a fairy tale out there.”

 And it should be romantic, but something about the tone of his voice and the way he says it makes her lie-detector fire up and she controls her face and breathing.

 “Okay,” she tells him, swaying into his space and smiling up at him.

 “Okay?” he echoes, his eyebrows raised and his look disbelieving.

 “Yeah.” She leans up and kisses him, soft and simple, and even that feels like a lie now so she doesn’t let it progress. “But I wasn’t lying about my apartment. I want to get it cleaned up and have all the laundry done before Henry gets home tomorrow morning. Can we plan dinner for later this week?”

 “Of course,” he says, his smile calm and his whole demeanor relaxed.

 He says goodnight at her door, kissing her on the cheek before he walks back towards the elevator. When she walks back into her apartment, Hook is still where she left him, nursing another glass of rum, sullenly staring at the table.

 “Did you end things then?” he asks, glancing up at her briefly before looking again at the liquid in his glass.

 “Not exactly.” She props up against the kitchen counter, too keyed up to sit but not wanting to let Hook know just how unsettled she really is.

 His head swivels in her direction, staring hard at her, before he sees her expression. “What is it?”

 “I don’t know yet. But there’s something off about this whole thing.”

 The comments about storybooks and fairy tales would’ve gone straight over her head had she not taken that potion; it would’ve just been something to either make or break the conversation. And Emma before the potion would’ve just accepted it and decided to stay, so that’s what she did.

 Emma after the potion knows that there is a storybook out there, and that fairy tales do exist. Proof is sitting at her kitchen table fiddling with his fake hand where she’s used to seeing a hook.

 “What are you going to do about it?” he asks after giving her a few minutes to process.

 “I don’t know that yet, either. Listen, I’m gonna get some sleep. Meet me back here in the morning and we’ll regroup. Figure out what to do.”

 “Aye, that sounds like a solid plan.” He drains his glass, bringing it and Emma’s abandoned glass back to and placing them in the sink when she gestures toward it. “Sleep well, Swan.”

 She lets him out after muttering her own goodnight and leaning heavily against the door when she’s alone. What she said to Hook earlier had been true. When she woke up that morning, she had been nothing more than a mother, but now the stole of Savior is heavy around her shoulders again, and she’s not entirely sure she wants it back.

 Her parents are the strongest people she knows. If there’s another curse, surely they can handle it on their own. Who knows if they’re even back in Storybrooke. The entire place is supposed to be gone, according to what Regina said. It shouldn’t exist. And she doesn’t even know how Hook got back here, so how is she supposed to figure out how to get back to the Enchanted freaking Forest?

 Because she can’t do anything to solve that tonight, she dips into the other half of the problem. Settled back in her pajamas, Emma sits down at the table with her computer. The search engines she uses for work are all fired up and running, looking to find any piece of information about Walsh that doesn’t add up to what he told her.

 By the time Hook shows back up in the morning, she’s barely slept, she’s packed suitcases for Henry and herself, and all she has left to do is ask one of the neighbors to keep an eye on the place while they’re out of town. And tell Walsh, but she has no idea what she’s going to say to him yet, so she’s holding off on that. Hook takes one look at the bags sitting by the wall and raises an eyebrow at her.

 “Planning an excursion, Swan?”

 “Yup. We have to get back to Storybrooke.” The last of the dishes are still waiting in the sink for her, so she busies herself with those while trying to figure out how to explain all of this to Hook.

 “Not that I’m not pleased with the change of tone from yesterday, but what’s happened to make you change your mind about this? I was sure I would need at least another week of sleeping in that bloody park before I convinced you to at least go see your family.”

 She just manages to catch the glass that slips from her fingers as what he’s said sinks in. “Sleeping in the – Hook, have you been sleeping in Central Park?”

 “There were plenty of other gentlemen occupying the benches. Drink enough rum and you don’t even notice the chill. And my neighbors were happy for the libations. I fail to see the problem here, Swan.” He’s wandering by the windows, looking out on the city around them and admiring the plants that she and Henry have been cultivating in their little living space. He may have hundreds of years of experience as far as life lessons go, but he’s little more than a foreigner in this land.

 “Those men are homeless, and it’s not safe to just sleep out in the open like that. You’re lucky you haven’t been robbed. Or stabbed. You went back to Neal’s apartment for the camera, so why haven’t you just been staying there?”

 “Someone saw me going into Baelfire’s apartment after our first encounter and didn’t seem to like the look of me. I locked the place up and haven’t returned.”

 “Great. That’s something else we’ll have to figure out.”

 “Something else? There’s more to figure out then?” She gives him a look at that, lifting an eyebrow because it should be no surprise at this point that.

 “Well, it turns out there’s more than just a message telling you to find me. Because I can’t have nice things, it turns out there’s something strange about Walsh, but I can’t prove it yet.” Her hand is halfway to her face to rub tiredly at her forehead, but Hook catches her forearm gently in his hand. He glances down and she sees the suds still covering her fingers, and while Hook lets go and moves back a few steps, Emma still feels claustrophobic and annoyed at herself.

 “What do you mean by ‘strange’?”

 “He said something to me last night about fairy tales, and I can’t – I can’t explain it, but it made my super power go off.”

 “I believe you, then.”

 She would question his unwavering faith in her gut instinct, but this is the same man who once told her he’d yet to see her fail. Something tells her she couldn’t sway him from believing in her if she tried, which is probably the weirdest part of all of this.

 “I can’t break up with him yet. He can’t know I’m back to being myself – the Savior – so we have to come up with a story. I’m gonna tell him I’m going to visit friends for the weekend or something and then find a way to blow him off. Then I’ll just have my stuff shipped again like I did when I moved there.”

 “And what do you need me to do?” He looks restless, the plan taking root in his bones like it’s already taken to hers.

 “Clear out for a little bit. I’ll give you some money and you can grab us coffee or breakfast or something. Just give me a bit of time to explain to Henry what’s going on.”

 “As you wish,” he says, that little half smile tilting up one corner of his mouth, and it takes all of her self-control to not roll her eyes or smile at his antics. He lets himself out and she takes one more moment to breathe through the lists in her head one more time before she notices her hands are itching from the water drying on them.

 With finality, Emma turns back to the sink and finishes the dishes. Henry is going to be home soon, and she hasn’t figured out what to tell him yet, either, but thankfully he’s eleven and will believe most things she tells him.

 As if thinking about Henry summons him, the door swings open and he comes barreling into the apartment, already babbling about whatever horror movie he and Avery watched when they were supposed to be going to bed. Seeing as Halloween is next week, she’s not really surprised.

 She listens to him talking as she finishes rinsing the last plate and leaves it to dry, making sure to give all the appropriate responses and give him her attention as she wipes out the sink and turns back to him.

 Before he can question her, she gives him one instead. “Do you believe in magic?”

 He answers immediately with a simple “of course” that has her raising her eyebrows, but he continues on about the Tooth Fairy and Santa and the Easter Bunny, stating that as long as it gets him a present, he’ll believe it. She scoffs as he continues, turning to wipe down the counters this time as well.

 The knock on the door comes about the same time that Henry notices the suitcases packed by the wall, and she watches his eyebrows furrow. “Are you expecting someone?”

 With one shaky inhale and exhale, she answers affirmative as she sets the rag down and walks to the door. Hook’s leaning against the opposite wall, cocky smirk in place, with a plastic bag hanging from his fake hand and a drink carrier in his real one. He bustles past her and heads straight for the island where Henry is still sitting, and Emma follows on his heels, just barely managing to get back around him before he can say anything.

 “Henry this is… Killian. He’s – I’m, um, I’m helping him with his case.”

 “Did you skip bail?” Henry asks, rising from his chair and coming to check out the man dressed in what has to be an extensive amount of cows in her son’s eyes.

 “Ah, he’s still a little spitfire.”

 “Still?”

 She could punch Hook right now. Right in the mouth. Because Henry is looking at her like she’s lying and she wishes Hook could’ve waited at least five more minutes so she could’ve come up with a better story.

 “He’s not a perp, he’s a client.” That’ll help, right?

 “Why are you dressed like that?”

 She wants to go back to bed immediately, especially when the childish answer comes from her right.

 “Why’re you dressed like that?” Hook counters, a perturbed look on his face and a rigidity to his posture that she can only describe as “bristling like angry cat.”

 “All right, just focus on breakfast first. I have a call to make. I’ll be right back.”

 She’s not so sure about leaving the two of them alone together, mostly because she doesn’t know what embarrassing things Henry will say and what embarrassing things Hook will respond. But there’s a huge part of her that’s grateful to be walking out to the roof again so she can call Walsh and fudge another story instead of dealing with the two of them.

 -x-

 The silence that descends on the apartment after Emma leaves is almost stifling. Henry hasn’t looked away from him, thankfully focusing on his face rather than the unnatural stiffness of the hand he doesn’t yet know is fake. The ogling is unnerving, to say the least.

 “So Killian,” Henry starts, backing up and perching on his seat once more. “How do you know my mom?”

 “We’re old acquaintances,” he tells the lad, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind. He sets down the breakfast bounty that he found, handing over one of the hot chocolates for Henry and pulling various baked goods from the other bag.

 After taking a tentative sip from the hot chocolate, Henry’s wary demeanor seems to soften a little bit. The bagels that he’s purchased also seem to appease the boy, so he leans against the sink in quiet contemplation before Henry speaks again.

 “I’ve never heard anything about you before. And my mom tells me everything.”

 “We lost contact for a long time, against my wishes.” He decides immediately that he also doesn’t want to directly lie to Henry. When his memories are returned, perhaps he’ll appreciate the gesture.

 They fall back into silence, which is minimally less uncomfortable than it was before, and wait for Swan to return. She’s gone for longer than Killian expected her to be, however, so the minimal amount of camaraderie that he might have gained with Henry seems to be dissipating with every passing minute.

 When she finally does return, she looks angry and upset, and it takes a great deal of his control to not rush to her side.

 “What is it, Swan? What’s the matter?”

 “Henry, I think I forgot to pack your DS. Why don’t you go collect that and see if there’s anything else I didn’t pack for you? You can pack an extra bag if you need to.”

 “What’s going on, mom?”

 “Well, it’s over with Walsh.” He and Henry both exclaim their surprise, but she shoos Henry off to his room. “We’ll talk about it later,” she tells Henry, until he finally nods his head and turns for his room. Once his door is shut, Emma sits down in his abandoned seat and rests her head on her folded arms.

 “What happened, love?” He doesn’t mean to reach out and touch her, but he can’t seem to help the gentle brush of his fingers over her bicep. She jerks upright as he pulls away, and he’s shocked to find the tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

 “He got angry with me when I told him I was going on a trip. He asked if I was going alone, or if Henry was going with me, and I told him I was going to be helping someone with a case.” She closes her eyes for a second, swiping at them quickly to get rid of the moisture there, before opening them and hardening her expression. “He never had a problem with my work before, so I fought back, and when he insinuated that I was sleeping with you less than a day after you showed back up in my life, I ended it.”

 She pauses for another minute after that, clearing the emotions from her voice and shaking herself back to solid. “Something still doesn’t feel right,” she suggests again, and Killian can feel it. He doesn’t know what her life has been like in this city, or what her relationship has been. As much as he wants to be objective about it, though, it still feels like there’s something they’re both missing from the grand picture.  

 He waits in the passenger seat of the car while Emma explains the breakup to Henry. Emma tries to keep her face neutral, and watches as Henry does his best to mirror her, but they both crack a little at seeing the other upset. By the time they climb into the vehicle – Henry to the backseat with his pillow and a blanket, and all the technology a young boy could need in this land, and Swan to the driver’s seat – they’re both back to hard expressions, both unreadable, and both closed off. He internally sighs once, and waits for them to both let go of their emotions enough to have conversations with again. Until then, he’s content to settle into the passenger seat until they reach Storybrooke.

 So he’s surprised when they pull up outside of what Swan calls an “outlet mall” and she turns to shake Henry awake.

 “You have your emergency phone, right?”

 Henry nods enthusiastically when she asks, and he digs it out of his backpack and powers it on, showing her that it has a full battery.

 “Okay, I have to help Killian find new clothes. His all got left behind and he only has this costume. I am giving you a hundred dollars, and you are free to spend it on anything you want. But remember to be smart and careful and don’t talk to strangers, okay? Call me if you need me, and meet us at the food court in an hour.

 “Got it, mom!”

 As soon as Emma has exited the vehicle, Henry is out of the backseat and already rounding a corner.

 She leans back in far enough to address him. “Come on, pirate. We have some shopping to do.”

 Surprised, he tries to scramble from the vehicle as she’s locking and closing her door, but he forgets to undo his safety harness first, so she’s already on the sidewalk outside the shops before he’s followed suit, locking his own door and shutting it carefully before hastening after her. Once she sees he’s following, she starts walking again with purpose.

 “What are we shopping for, Swan?”

 “Something that will make you stand out less. I can’t be traveling to Maine with you looking like Captain Hook.”

 “But I am Captain Hook.”

 “Yeah, but the rest of the world doesn’t need to know that,” she hisses, all the while scanning the shop windows until she finds one suitable. The inside of the store smells like strong cologne, and Killian tries to school his face to something that doesn’t look like disgust as they walk through. “Okay, pick stuff you like. And we’ll go from there. When we get the pirate doubloon currency exchange back in Storybrooke, you can pay me back.”

 The store suddenly feels massive, and he feels utterly lost. The colors all seem so much brighter, the prints harsher, the textures grating, and he wants to swish his coat and walk right back out and back to the car. Emma must sense his hesitation, because she reaches a hand towards him, leaving it just far enough away that she’s not making contact but the meaning is still there.

 “Listen, we can stick to all black, if you obviously prefer. But you just need a couple outfits in case we need to travel back to New York again, and you’ll blend in better in clothes from this world.” Her voice is much gentler when she speaks, so he lets his shoulders drop and prepares himself again.

 “What do you suggest, Swan?”

 They both look around for a minute, their heads swiveling to and fro, until Emma apparently finds something worth their time and she sets off in its direction.

 The waistcoat is all black, leather on the front pieces, and the back is satin. It’s like his own, but probably easier to move around in, even if the buttons look downright daunting to a man with only one hand. But if he’s managed this long, he’s sure he can tackle this as well. With that as their starting point, they set out to find shirts that will match it, and trousers. She picks up what she calls “jeans” in a black instead of what he recognizes as her usual blue, and shoves him in the direction of the fitting rooms with a hasty selection of undergarments.

 “If you need any help,” she starts, but he’s charmed by the way she coughs and looks anywhere but at him for a second.

 “I do believe I’ll manage, love.”

 Over the time allotted until they reunite with Henry, he tries on several different sizes of items, occasionally exiting the dressing room to ask if she approves of a combination. She stares at his bare feet for the entirety of one of those moments, until she snatches one of his boots from the room and wanders away for a few minutes.

 When he comes back out in a different shirt, and a pair of the jeans that actually fit comfortably, she’s holding a box with a modern pair of shoes in them.

 “Try those on, too. Give me anything you’re comfortable with after you’ve changed out of those and I’ll go pay. Once they’re paid for, I’ll bring back an outfit for you to wear out of here.”

 The minutes he stands nude in the dressing room waiting for Emma are almost painfully boring. And he spends far too long looking at his reflection in the mirror, cataloguing his own scars, rubbing a hand along his wrist and anxious to put the brace back on. He cocks his head to the side as he considers his assets in the harsh lighting, and wonders if this is what all men do in dressing rooms, or if they even care at all.

 A pair of the undergarments he selected comes back over the doorway, followed by a pair of socks.

 “Ready for the rest?” Emma asks from the other side of the door, but before he can even answer, she’s swinging an outfit over the door, now without the hangers and price tags. The box with the boots is the last thing to come through, and he’s grateful she pushes that under the small gap beneath the door.

 With the help of the zippers on the shoes and his incredible dexterity, getting dressed is much less of a hassle than he expected, and he exits the dressing room with his clothes draped over his left arm. She takes everything from him and shoves it unceremoniously into one of the shopping bags, and he scoffs when she tries to take the coat.

 “I can wear my own bloody coat, Swan.”

 “You can wear it a week from now in Storybrooke in honor of Halloween. We’ll find a jacket or something for you to wear. Besides, you’re probably already warmer with all those buttons done up.”

 He glances down at his chest when she finishes, looking at the smaller expanse of hair on display and frowning at it. “The garments in this realm are cut so much higher.”

 She chuckles as they leave the store, heading to wherever the food court is located to find Henry again. “You look fine.”

 “I look plain and ordinary.”

 “You could wear a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and you still wouldn’t look ordinary,” she states, but either she didn’t mean to say it at all or didn’t mean to say it in such a salacious tone, because she blushes once the words are out of her mouth.

 There are so many options to choose from when they get to the small hub of restaurants. He follows Emma and lets her lead, picking something close to what she does and quietly picking at it while she scans the room for Henry. She waves him over once she sees him, eyeballing the bag he’s carrying once he’s close enough.

 “Just some new games. I didn’t even spend all the money you gave me!” They both look so proud of this fact, that Killian feels proud by default, although he’s not sure why spending less money than he’s allowed would be such a momentous thing.

 “I’ll go grab you some food. You want pizza?” Emma asks, standing and edging in that direction before Henry even gives the affirmative.

 Once his mother is out of earshot, Henry looks at Killian in a way that screams of weighing and measuring. Perhaps with the new clothes, he finds something he approves of, though.

 “That outfit is much better than your pirate costume. Although, I guess if you had a hook it would be a pretty cool getup.”

 He bites his tongue, keeping that secret for now. “What kind of games did you purchase for yourself, lad?”

 Henry looks at the bag he’s propped on the seat next to him, but he changes the subject again. “Are you trying to date my mom?”

 “Um.”

 “Because I think if she just got out of a relationship with Walsh that you should at least wait. You don’t want to rush her or anything or else she might freak out and just leave you behind or something.”

 “I’ll make note of that, lad. But while I care for your mother deeply, I am not ah, attempting to court her, at least at this present moment.”

 The boy considers him again, this time looking almost sympathetic.

 “Good luck with that, buddy.”

 Emma’s back before he can respond, so he does his best to bring his jaw back up from the floor. He spends most of his meal listening to the easy conversation between Emma and Henry. She’s obviously retained the effortless communication she had with him while her memories were gone, and if he wanted to, he could pretend that they’re just three average people, out for shopping at this outlet mall and enjoying their day.

 As he fiddles with the cuff of the sleeve that’s holding his brace and fake hand in place, he knows otherwise, but he can pretend just like Emma, so he does.

 Henry asks plenty of questions about how they met, and where Killian is from. Emma is much better at coming up with veiled details on the spot, so he answers less than she does, but Henry gives him his full attention whenever he does speak. He tries to act like mobile talking phones and handheld entertainment devices are things that he’s used to, listening attentively as Henry finally divulges what games he purchased and the plotline of one of the games, about a boy named Link sailing the seas with pirates.

 Before they leave the shopping complex, Emma spots something in one of the stores and tells them to wait outside while she runs in, and when she returns, she takes the bags back from Killian and hands over the new one. Inside is a black leather jacket, with a zipper at the bottom of each sleeve that will more than accommodate his brace. It looks like it was made to match his new modern look, and she urges him to slip it on.

 It fits perfectly, which shouldn’t be a surprise to him. Everything weighs so much less than his former clothing, and feels different, but is largely just going to be an adjustment and much less harsh than he originally presumed.

 Henry falls asleep almost as soon as they’re back on the road, with the miles and hours stretching before them. He and Emma make small conversation, mostly coded so if Henry is faking sleep that he won’t know what they’re really talking about.

 Several miles outside the entrance to Storybrooke, an animal of some kind (though neither he or Emma could say for certain that it was just a deer, or one of the many rodents she’s familiarized him with) darts in front of the vehicle and the car almost swerves into a tree. Henry is shaken awake with the sudden stop, but thankfully his young reflexes catch him before he can slam into the back of the seats.

 “What was that?!” he exclaims, eyes wide and breathing heavily, no doubt trying to gain his bearings after the sudden wake up.

 “Just a possum, or badger or something. I don’t know, just some kind of animal. You okay, kid? Killian?”

 “I’m good,” Henry says, collapsing back against the seat. Killian just nods and visually assesses her to make sure she’s also all right.

 When they get to where the town line should be, there’s nothing. Nothing at all. No sign to indicate they’re where they should be. No line painted on the road to indicate the spot where it ends. No clues to show that anything is there at all. They drive all the way through where the main street should be but there’s nothing but woods surrounding them.

 “So… what are we looking for out here?” Henry asks when they turn around and drive back.

 Killian and Emma are too distracted by what isn’t there to be able to answer his question right away.

 “Mom?”

 “Sorry kid, it looks like we came all the way up here on a wild goose chase.”

 As they slow to a stop in the middle of the street, Killian can almost visualize the shops and sights that should be there. Instead, they’re surrounded by nothing but pitch black, and the feeling that they are being watched.

 “Swan,” Killian says, hoping he instills enough warning in his voice to alert her but not Henry.

 “Yeah, got it,” she mutters, shifting the car into gear again. She doesn’t drive fast. She almost senses that they need to do what she did with Walsh. They need to be inconspicuous: like there’s nothing out of the ordinary besides finding a lost road.

 The sensation of being watched doesn’t fade after they’ve left what would’ve been the town limits. It seems like it follows them all the way back through Maine, and he and Emma struggle to keep up a conversation with Henry about when they drove out this way a year before. Thankfully, he falls asleep, and they lapse into silence as she all but rushes out of the state.

 When they reach New Hampshire, Emma finds the first hotel she can and books rooms for them. As soon as she has the keys in hand, she shuffles a half-asleep Henry up to the room they’ll be sharing, and directs Killian to his down the hall.

 “How am I supposed to get into the room with this?” he asks, holding up the flimsy card like the ones Emma uses to pay for things.

 “You just… You know what? Hang on. Come on Henry.” She leaves him in the hallway with his bags of clothes as she quickly enters the room. If she’d only turned a little, he could’ve seen for himself how to work the bloody thing.

 She’s back before he has a chance to get too annoyed, or get more than two strange looks, and she’s also wheeling the smaller suitcase beside her. She takes the bags from him and nods towards the direction of his room.

 “Okay, it’s really simple. Take one of the keys –“

 “These are supposed to be keys?”

 She sighs once. “Yes, Killian. That’s the key to the room. Okay. There’s an arrow on it. Or a triangle. You want to point that down and insert it into the slot – not yet, Killian – and then pull it out fast, okay?”

 He stands there looking between the key and the door and Emma for a couple seconds before he gives a good sigh of his own. Why are things so complicated here? He could be in the room, already asleep, if he had a normal bloody key and lock.

 It takes four tries, with Emma trying to keep a straight face the whole time, before it finally blinks green and she tells him to turn the handle.

 “There you go, buddy. Come on.”

 With words alone, she ushers them into the room and drops the bags of clothes on the large bed. There’s just the one, but everything looks pristine and welcoming, and it’s only as he gazes at the large pile of pillows at the top of the bed that he realizes how tired he is. Perhaps his nights of sleeping out in the open were not as restful as he believed they were.

 Instead of letting him strip down and sleep, though, Emma insists on helping him with his new wardrobe.

 “Swan, I can manage on my own.”

 “Something tells me you’re not used to fabric that wrinkles if you just throw it all in a pile. I’ll help you fold these. Here,” she says, handing him what he recognizes as pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. “Go get changed for bed and we can add those clothes to this, too.”

 He doesn’t fight her, just takes the items and heads to the bathroom and begins the arduous process of unbuttoning all the buttons to the waistcoat and shirt underneath. He makes sure to remove the boots and socks, as well, holding them awkwardly with the rest of his clothes again draped over his arm as he returns to the main room.

 Emma is halfway through folding the piles that she’s dumped out of the bags, and he realizes that he hasn’t seen half of the purchases. There are more shirts, a few more vests all in black, a couple more pairs of trousers, and more of the socks and boxers that she must’ve grabbed when he was trying on the clothing. There’s a lot, but it still appears that it’ll all fit in the suitcase she’s provided him with.

 “I’m really glad I went overboard instead of assuming you’d be able to buy more in Storybrooke when we got there. What do you want to wear tomorrow?”

 He feels a little like a dress-up doll for a young lass, suddenly, especially with the way her eyes light up as she gestures to the organized piles on the bed. As he hands over the worn items, he just smiles at her and hopes it’s not that soft, lovesick look he usually feels on his face when he’s looking at her. “Surprise me, love.”

 He watches as she sets aside undergarments, along with a slightly different pair of the dark jeans and a different vest. She chooses a shirt with some dark pattern, only noticeable up close, then nods in approval at her own choices.

 “There. The pjs can get thrown on top. Those will be fine until we get back to the city.” She busies herself stacking each of the piles into the suitcase, zipping it closed and setting it on the chair in the corner before she moves his chosen outfit to rest on top of it. When she turns to leave, Killian still hasn’t moved, so she almost runs directly into him. While it stops her up short, he feels his body gravitating to pull her close, just to hold her, just for a moment, but he leaves his arms firmly at his sides as she takes a half-step back.

 “How are you, Swan?” he asks her, and means it. He’s not had a chance to speak with her alone since this morning, and while she’s outwardly pushing through, he wants to know how she is internally.

 “I’m… okay. I’m tired, Hook. Something else isn’t what I thought it was and I’ve had my heart broken once again.”

 The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Good. Don’t take this the wrong way but I’m glad to hear it.”

 “You’re glad to hear I had my heart broken?”

 “If it can be broken, it means it still works,” he says softly. He sways into her space again when he says it, and to his utter surprise, she sways right into his. And he thinks he’s looking at desire in her eyes, the return of his feelings for her, the return of her feelings for him that had spoken to him right before she left the bloody town a year ago, that one, solid word echoing through his memories as they stare at each other for the space of ten whole heartbeats.

 Emma is the one to break eye contact, as she looks away first, then moves away from him.

 “Goodnight, Killian,” she all but whispers before she reaches the door. He doesn’t turn to watch her go. Instead he collapses face first onto the bed, almost ripping his brace from his arm and dropping it to the floor. Thankfully, he’s too exhausted to go over every minute detail of the interaction in his mind. He’ll save that for the whole ride back to Storybrooke in the morning.

 -x-

 Emma decides somewhere between the door to Killian’s room and the door to the one she’s sharing with Henry that she needs to start an unhealthy tab of how many times she almost kisses Captain Hook. The first tally mark will be dark, to include the one time she did kiss Captain Hook – kissed the crap outta him, actually.

 Henry is still fast asleep on one of the beds where she left him, so she tiptoes around to find her pajamas in the mess that is now their suitcase before she heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

 When she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees the look in her eyes that she knows means trouble. She is attracted to him. She is attracted to him and she wants to kiss him again. Especially when he says things about how her heart must still work if it’s broken. And it is, but she realizes that the whole day she was with him and Henry, she didn’t think of Walsh or the life she was living before Hook showed up once.

 She collapses face first onto her own bed, wiggling under the covers and falling straight to sleep. Her dreams are plagued with possibilities and desires, but also nightmares that include what’s lurking around the corner from them. In her dreams, she can clearly see the animal that darted out in front of them. It’s some man-sized monkey with wings: a nightmare straight out of The Wizard of Oz, which is just absurd.

 By the time she wakes up, the clear picture of whatever it was is long gone, and she focuses instead on getting out of bed and getting ready for the day. They’ll have to return to the city, and they’ll have to figure out what to do with Hook – with Killian. He can’t go back to Neal’s apartment. She has money, but she can’t really afford to keep him up in a hotel or pay his rent for him.

 Shit.

 She needs a shower, coffee, breakfast, and a plan.

 The first three are easy, but the plan is slow coming. It’s not like they can talk about any of it in front of Henry, so instead she catches quick glimpses of the new outfit she selected for Killian last night and tries to keep up some semblance of conversation with them.

 Mostly, Killian and Henry talk about the video games that Henry purchased the day before. It turns out that a “prince” that rides with pirates is something that Killian is very interested in, even if he’s never heard of The Legend of Zelda before yesterday. At least they’re bonding, which means she has more time to work out some details on her own.

 “So we’re headed back to the city?” Henry asks when they’re finishing breakfast.

 Emma nods, looking to her side to see what expression is on Killian’s face, but he’s a blank slate this morning. Whatever she says, he’ll go with.

 “Yeah, we are, kid. Maybe we looked at the wrong information before we left.”

 “Or the information is outdated,” Killian offers.

 “Yeah, but how do we update that information? It’s not like we can just Google it and add it into Wikipedia and it’ll appear.”

 “Wiki-what?”

 “Nothing. We’ll just go back to the city and… regroup. Or something. I don’t know, I’m still working on a plan.”

 Henry’s eyes are bouncing between her and Killian the entire time they’re talking, his gaze scrutinizing and thoughtful, and she wonders what he’s seeing when he looks across the table at them. They sat next to each other by accident, mostly because Emma is so used to sitting across from Henry everywhere they go, and Killian probably preferred to sit next to her. So they’re next to each other, and Killian is one hundred percent focused on the words coming out of her mouth, because he’s one hundred percent focused on her mouth. And they’re speaking their own special adult language, and she’s just remembered to look at Henry and he’s giving them this look.

 She looks back at Killian, and he just raises one of those over-expressive eyebrows at her. She looks to Henry again, and he mimics the action. He’s spending too much time with Killian already, she’s sure of it.

 Maybe, she thinks, just maybe they can play off that they’re dating. They’ve been super secretive about their past. Maybe it’s not so hard to paint Killian as a previous lover, an old flame that couldn’t be fulfilled at the time, and now is their chance.

 Details can be figured out later. For now, she needs to get them back into a city.

 There’s a hotel nearby that’s cheap enough, and once she drops Henry and his suitcase off at their apartment, she walks Killian there and gets him a room. He proudly uses the magnetic key card like he’s been doing it his whole life, and she can’t help but grin back at him as he smiles, dimples and all.

 “I’m gonna order pizza once I get back to my place. You’re welcome to come over and eat some of it? We can get groceries tomorrow if you want stuff to keep here. They even have a little fridge and everything.”

 “That sounds lovely, even though I’ve no bloody clue what pizza is.”

 “Something you’ll be eating a lot of, depending on how long we’re stuck in New York.”

 “Aye, I suppose you’re right. I’ll come by in a half hour or so once I’ve gotten everything settled here.”

 “Okay,” Emma says, “and just call me if you need anything before then.” She scribbles her number down on the pad of paper on the nightstand, and adds the possibility of getting him a phone to the list she has in her head about finding him a job, and making up documents for him.

 She leaves him with a nervous little wave, and walks out of the hotel into a chilly October evening. For the first block of the walk, she’s fine. It feels like any other night walking down the street she’s gotten to know over the last year of living here. But the closer she gets to her apartment, the more the sensation comes back that something is watching her.

 It’s a little like her sensor for knowing when someone is lying to her, but more like an intense itch between her shoulder blades that she struggles to keep hidden. She pulls her jacket tighter around her shoulders and pushes forward, determined to just look like a cold individual, making the trek home.

 The sensation gets worse the closer she gets to her apartment, and for the entire ride up the elevator, she’s almost shaking with worry about her son, and it takes even more control to keep her pace even and unhurried as she makes her way down the hallway. She’s relieved to find the door locked tight, like she always taught him to do after she left. She makes sure all the latches and locks are engaged again before turning and making her way into their living space.

 Henry is waiting at the kitchen island with an expectant look on his face. “So, mom, how do you know Killian again?”

 “We knew each other a while ago,” she answers, going straight for the drawer where they stash their take-out menus. “I’m going to unpack some of our stuff. Why don’t you order for all of us? Killian hasn’t spent a whole lot of time here, so he needs the real New York experience.” She hopes a task like this will distract Henry enough for him to drop the subject.

 “I’m not going to drop this,” Henry says, dashing all her dreams while taking the menu for their pizza place in hand. He wanders over to the couch to consider his options while Emma drags the suitcase around the corner and into her bedroom. She’ll have to do laundry, she realizes, and she’ll have to add Killian’s clothes to theirs since he won’t know how to work a washing machine.

 It would be easier if he just lived here with them, she’s sure.

 And that’s the lightbulb that finally goes off. That can be their dumb plan.

 Henry already thinks there’s something between them, and they’re going to have to work closely together in order to figure out what to do. It’ll certainly save her bank account if she doesn’t have to foot the bill for a hotel room for him.

 She eyeballs her bed, humming out loud at the prospect of two people sleeping in it. She can’t even remember Walsh spending the night over here more than twice, and only when Henry was over at a friend’s place for sleepovers and such.

 It’s not a very good plan, but it’s more of one than when they woke up today.

 “Hey mom, pizza is on the way! When will Killian be here?” He calls it all from the couch in typical-kid fashion, and Emma rolls her eyes as she heads back out to the living room to respond to him.

 “He should be over soon. We’ll have to go over some details of his case tonight, so he might be here pretty late. Is that okay with you?”

 Henry thinks about it for a minute, narrowing his eyes at her as he considers it. “Can I have an extra half hour to play video games before going to bed tonight?”

 It’s a dirty negotiation tactic, but it’s not a school night and he did just travel with them all the way to Middle-of-Nowhere, Maine without complaining once.

 “Yes, but just for tonight. Tomorrow night is a school night.”

 One exasperated sigh is the only grief he gives her before a victory smile lights up his face. “Fine,” he concedes, drawing the word out but grinning the whole time.

 Emma makes sure to sit next to Killian at the dinner table, and both she and Henry enjoy watching Killian’s face as he devours his first slice of pizza.

 “Better than bologna?” she asks, her smirk uncontrollable, as is the laugh that follows when he scowls at her around a mouthful of crust.

 “It didn’t have to strive very hard to be more palatable than that blasted meat concoction. Although, nothing would. But it is delicious.”

 They wait until Henry is fully immersed in his games before they settle in at the table, a notepad in front of each of them, and Emma watches as the page Killian is using fill up with more of that loopy handwriting of his.

 “I’ll need to get you a new passport and stuff,” she mumbles, jotting down all the things she’s been repeating since they left the hotel that morning. “And maybe a phone so you can call or text me even if you’re not with me.”

 “What happened to your old phone?” Henry asks from the couch. She knew it was better to not make bold statements while he was around, no matter how into his game he looks.

 Killian looks to her, his eyes wide and questioning. He doesn’t even really know what a phone is, let alone what to say about where his fictional one went. “Never had one,” he says before Emma can concoct a lie.

 Henry makes a noise of dismissal and goes quiet again, and she and Killian both slump a little in their chairs, relieved that they’re past one hurdle.

 They use as much code as they can handle, but even her brain is starting to scramble by the time Henry goes to bed, so they take a break until they’re sure he’s asleep. She wants to tell him about that feeling on her walk back earlier, and how she was inexplicably terrified that something would happen to her son before she could get back to the apartment. She wants to tell him to move in, move in tonight so she has the reassurance that even when she can’t be here, Henry will still be safe.

 Instead, she pours them each a small amount of rum and clinks her glass against his as they rehash everything on the lists they’ve already made. She has a contact in Boston that can get her the appropriate documents. She has people around town to find Killian a job. They’ll need more than the week’s worth of clothing that they purchased on their way to Maine. And they’ll need to find a way to decide if Storybrooke is back at all, before finding a way back in.

 By the time they finish their drinks, Emma is willing to speak a little more candidly, so she quietly explains that weird feeling of being watched on her way back.

 “I experienced the same thing, Swan.”

 “So something out there is watching us. Watching what we do, and where we go. I don’t like it.”

 “Neither do I, but we continue to act as if we’re average people, aye?���

 “Yeah, I guess.” She decides to wait on asking him to move in, as much as it pains her to do so. He’s just a couple blocks away, so she knows he could be here in the amount of time it would take him to run, if necessary. It’ll be fine. So when their glasses are empty a second time, she walks him to the door and wishes him goodnight before closing it and locking it up tight.

 Her normal habits follow – the ones that settled into her bones from their year living seemingly peaceful lives. She feels better once she draws the blinds down for the night, even more so when she checks on Henry to see him sleeping, his DS still on and glowing softly to illuminate her son’s slack expression. She rolls her eyes with affection as she walks over to close it and place it on his night stand. She tucks his blankets around his shoulders and leaves the door cracked just an inch before retiring to her own bedroom.

 The next couple days are much the same. Killian’s documents come in via express mail at the end of the week, which means they can finally get started finding him a job somewhere. He stares at the picture on his passport for a long time, his fingers gliding over the laminate with something almost like reverence.

 Most of their time is spent bent over their notebooks, trying to think of anything they can think of. They think about all the possible entrances over the town line, but they’re pretty sure if they can’t access one, they wouldn’t be able to access any of the others.

 “What about water?” she asks as they’re wrapping up one night.

 “What about it?”

 “Why don’t we get your ship, sail up there, and see if we can get in that way. You have a magical freaking boat. That has to count for something, right?”

 He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the first sign that something isn’t right that she’s seen in a while. “I didn’t bring it with me,” he says after a full minute of fidgeting.

 It’s a half-lie. He’s not outright lying to her, but it’s damn close. “What aren’t you telling me?”

 “Nothing, Swan.” The expression on his face freezes, and she knows she won’t get anything else from him on this matter, so she takes a deep breath and wracks her brain for more possibilities.

 They both tense up at the same time, the eyes on them hovering just beyond the safety of her windows, and she can’t tell if either of them are breathing. Her hand is clenching her pen so hard she’s afraid she’ll snap it in half. When Killian slides his hand across the table and his fingers brush across hers, she does her best to relax a little. She sets the pen down, accepting his fingers interlacing with hers. It’s just a moment of comfort – that’s all.

 He nods, giving her the smallest smile he can muster up, and she thinks she returns it, and they stay like that for the length of time until, just as suddenly as it appeared, the sensation goes away.

 “I’m going to check on Henry,” Emma says quietly. Their grasp lingers until she’s standing, and she clears her throat as she awkwardly clutches her hand to her chest after she walks away.

 The door is cracked the same amount it always is, and Henry is asleep in his bed. For once, the video games and books are all off and away, but she still goes in to pull the covers up and give him a kiss on the forehead. The blinds are drawn and the curtains are closed, and she makes a mental note to check all the locks on all the windows tomorrow. Not that human locks will stop anything magical, but checking seems responsible, at the very least.

 Killian is returning to the table with two glasses when she comes back in the room. The bottle of rum is already waiting.

 “Seemed like it might be calming after that,” he explains. It’s only once he says it that she realizes she hasn’t seen him drink since their first night back in the city. That’s not to say he isn’t when he goes back to his hotel room, but since he’s spending a majority of his time with her, or watching Henry when she’s out on a job, she’s pretty sure he’s using it for sleeping and showering only. Which brings her back to the idea of him living at her place.

 She pauses, knowing now is the time to ask him about moving in, but still wanting to prolong the moment. “What, uh. What do you think about moving in here? Pretending we’re a couple. I think Henry already thinks we’re seeing each other and whatever. I don’t think it would be much of a stretch to convince him that there’s something going on and we’re closer than we’re letting on.”

 He takes a moment to pour himself a finger of rum and drink it down in one swallow before attempting to answer, but she can see it’s still a struggle. “I don’t know if that’s wise, Swan.” He pours another for himself and one for her, sliding her glass across the table to her waiting hand.

 “Oh, come on. We are adults. I’m going to have to teach you how to function in New York, which will be easier if you’re in the same room as me. And it’ll save money if you’re not living in a hotel.”

 “I’ll pay for it. Just as soon as I have employment.”

 “Killian, it’ll be a while before you can afford to keep yourself in that place.”

 With agitation guiding his moves, Killian stands from the table and paces the length of the breakfast bar.

 “What will Henry think of a new man sharing your bed so soon after your previous relationship?”

 “As long as I’m happy, I don’t think he’ll care.”

 “And how do you feel about lying to him about all this? We’ve been so careful to not lie to him in the duration since you got your memories back, Swan.” He stops pacing and looks at her, and she feels the stab of guilt go through her at that. She hates lying to Henry about anything, but there’s no way to bring back his own memories, and while he’s pretty easy-going for an eleven-year-old, he might not buy all this. Plus, the less he knows right now, the better.

 She stands and moves to him, making sure to maintain eye contact with him the whole time she speaks. “If and when Henry gets his memories back, he will understand that I – that we did everything in our power to protect him from whatever the hell is out there. Killian, something was just watching us through the windows of my third-floor apartment.”

 “And what about physical contact, Swan? We’ll need to show each other affection from time to time so he believes we are courting. We’ll need to,” and here he shifts from foot to foot, swallowing hard before he says it, “share a bed.”

 “It’s a big bed. I think we’ll manage. And affection is fine, spaced out. Pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate us tongue kissing in front of him anyways.” The second she says it, she vividly remembers Neverland all over again – the anxious push and pull dance they engaged in for way too short of a time. The way his body felt against hers. The way he kissed her back with as much fervor as she gave.

 She blinks a few times, idly wondering if that’s the reason for Killian’s faraway look, or if he’s just considering the offer.

 “There’s something else. When I was walking home from the hotel that first night back, I could feel whatever it was watching me. And while I left Henry alone for brief periods of time before, I have never felt so uneasy about it than I did that night. I can’t really explain it,” she says, her hand automatically hovering above her breastbone as if she could clutch at that feeling, find the proper words, calm her heart all over again. “I can’t, but I flew down the hall preparing for a battle.”

 He looks progressively more worried as she talks, and she can see the gears shifting in his mind. Sheesh, she thought this would be just a little easier. “Just sleep on it, okay?”

 “Aye, Swan, I will.” He lingers after the words, looking like he has more to say, but inevitably just shaking his head and returning to the table.

Part 2 this way!