#mc cs au fic

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS23 Fic Update: "Carolina Moon" Chapter Five

Sheesh, so much for getting back to weekly updates! I don't know what else to do but apologize folks, and to say thank you for hanging in there with me if you're still patiently reading this story despite my lack of speed. Please enjoy the newest chapter - the threat is ramping up, but so is Killian's determination to help keep Emma safe!

Thank you so, so, SO much for @xarandomdreamx and her wonderful beta skills - she had a job fixing all the times I switched tenses this go 'round!

And continued thanks to @eastwesthomeisbest for this cover art that I'm thrilled by all over again each time I post a new chapter!!

Read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Five: Unwanted Reunion and New Resolve

Killian Jones’ mind was everywhere but on the shipping manifests and cost reports he was attempting to look over in his small office down at the docks. Paperwork of that nature was his least favorite part of being the boss, and a tedious chore at the best of times, but with all he had witnessed the night before - Emma trembling in his arms, shaking from the sapping strength of her visions - he could find little space in his brain for inventory and figures. The sunlight glinting off the water out the window to his left and the gentle sound of the waves striking the moorings of the pier always tried to entice him from his desk on mornings he had to take alone to put the business in order, but with his concentration already severely fractured, he was making little to no headway. He’d dropped Emma off by her car at the gallery that morning, reluctantly aware that he had to give her a bit of space, and figuring that in the middle of town in broad daylight was the best time to do so and still retain his own peace of mind. He’d spent the night on her couch - against her protests that she sleep there instead - but all had been quiet, no signs of trouble. She’d planned to go to the diner to grab breakfast, then work for a few hours, and he’d pick her up that evening when they’d both finished for the day.

With a growl of frustration, Killian pushed his chair back and reclined in it, raking a hand through his dark hair, surely making it stand on end, and squeezing his eyes closed to block all the images rushing through, images that were already inside his head. He wanted to yell, to hit something - mostly his own younger self. How had they all been so blind and callous? Was this what Emma had always been dealing with? Even as a child? Rose would have known, would have been a support, a respite for Emma in the storm the rest of her life must have been. His baby sister, whom he’d doted on, but clearly not paid careful enough attention to, would have done nothing less. But when she was snatched away, and Emma blamed for the loss, despite what she had risked in order to help, it was just too late, the storm had surged back to surround her, raging and buffeting her more cruelly than ever. Though he had wondered briefly about the marks he could see that morning, and what had kept Emma from meeting Rose the night before, he had been too young and blind, too lost in his own grief and family concerns to reach out to her as he saw now he should have done. She had lost the only anchor in the maelstrom she had ever possessed, and he hadn’t bothered to toss her a lifeline. Leaning forward again, elbows planted on his cluttered desk, Killian rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully for a moment, trying to refocus on what he could do now to help her and show he wanted to ease her burden - would always, always, be at her side from now on, if she would allow it. Emma had said, when her defenses were still down and he had held her close, trying to imbue any bit of strength he could, that Rose wasn’t the only one - that there had been other victims.

Galvanized with sudden inspiration, he pushed his bookkeeping aside in a messy heap to one corner of his desk and quickly opened a new window on his laptop. If he wasn’t going to be able to focus on his own work, he might as well accomplish something worthwhile, something he could take to Emma as proof of how fully he took her at her word - a starting point for their inquiry. His eyes began to scan lines of text in rapid fascination - both amazed and appalled at the sheer amount of information at one’s fingertips once he chose to look, and at the horrifying reality of there being so much to be found.

He was soon fully engaged in the task, his other concerns slipping away with the minutes that ticked by until he could call it a day, and it suddenly felt as if he had managed some worthwhile work after all. Perhaps not for Jones Shipping Ltd., but important all the same. He tried not to picture the scoff and disappointed shake of the head his father would have given at that; Brennan Jones did nothing if not for the furtherance of their name and holdings, and his imagination’s echoes of the sharp retort that would be on his mother’s lips did no good either.

All the same, he was anxious to show Emma what he had turned up, and in only a couple hours’ searching. It wouldn’t be what one might call pleasant dinner conversation - certainly not what he’d usually entertain as fit for a second date - was he crazy to consider it as such?  He felt Emma would want to know all the same. It was proof that what she had seen the night before, horrifying as it must have been, was hardly mistaken or imagined. And it was a first stop toward finally uncovering the truth after all this time. Emma deserved to be set free at long last - they all did.

When it finally neared five o’clock, Killian had never locked up his office and left work so quickly. He headed straight for the town square and those mesmerizing green eyes he was eager to feel upon him again. He had been missing them for longer than he’d ever fully realized.

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The morning after intense visions Emma always felt a bit hazy, slightly dazed and headache-y, almost as though suffering from a mental hangover of sorts, from exerting such focus and emotion. That morning was no different, but she shuffled gingerly through her usual routine as always, wincing but not about to waste time recouping her strength if she still hoped to open for business as planned.

By the time she had returned to the gallery, a shocking amount of coffee in her system and a satisfyingly crisp and greasy bacon sandwich from the local diner in her stomach, she already felt more herself. She had called the young lady, Violet Clemens  back and hired her after all. She was going to need help, and the sale she had already made - to Ruby Jones, of all people! - had boosted her confidence. She might as well sink everything into this; if she went down, she would go down swinging with all she had.

Violet had joined her in the shop just after 12:30, and they had spent a cheerful couple of hours putting the last items and displays in place. The other woman had proven a real asset already: agreeable, quick, and a good eye to boot. She was pleasant company and a worthy distraction. Emma was already exceedingly glad of her presence.

It was just half past three when Emma paused to stretch, catch her breath, and survey their progress with a proud smile. There really wasn’t too much left after Killian’s help the previous day, and all that she and her new employee had just accomplished. Smiling broadly, she thanked Violet once more, and got them both a cold water bottle from the small fridge she’d had Killian’s help in nestling on the shelf under the counter. They were due a cool drink and a moment’s sit down, she felt sure. 

While they were still sipping their drinks perched on the tall stools she’d placed behind the counter, the bell above the shop door jangled merrily to announce the arrival of Mayor Walsh Ozman with his wide, charming-the-public smile. Emma stood and moved forward to greet her old acquaintance, asking what they could do for him, even though she was privately amused at how well the public servant schtick seemed to suit him. She would have never imagined that the unhappy, mean-spirited boy of their youth would be wearing that wide smile and winning local elections when they all grew up. Then again, she couldn’t have pictured much for her future either, not back then. Still, she mused curiously before returning her attention to Walsh’s reply, she would have to ask Killian if it was an election year and if Mayor Ozman was trying to win over these two newcomers to his town by turning on the charm.

As it turned out, the mayor was also hoping to make an early purchase - it seemed that he and his wife were quite close to their 15th anniversary, and having lived in Storybrooke all that time, he was anxious to shop for a gift somewhere completely unknown to her. He genuinely did want to offer any help he could as a town representative, but if he could find the right anniversary present at the same time, he would be incredibly grateful.

Violet happily began to show him around the shop, directing his attention to various framed photographs which might work especially well as romantic gifts - the close-up bud of a red rose, two swallows entwined in flight, a couple’s joined hands in silhouette against a sunset’s orange and gold. Not only that, but she kept up a lively patter of information that proved just what a sponge she had been for all of the information Emma had told her so far about her process, materials, and subject matter. Violet answered the mayor’s questions nearly as well as Emma herself could have done, and it pleased Emma more than she could say, thinking that not only had she helped someone in need of a job, but that she had managed to find someone with the pep and sweetness they needed out front, all the engaging personality she herself often fought to project, as well as a genuine interest in the art itself.

By the time Violet had shown Walsh all the way around the store cheerily, the mayor had a selected photo in hand once they returned to the counter and Emma was marvelling at how lucky she had been to find such a natural saleswoman along with all of Violet’s other positive traits. The red rose picture Walsh had selected seemed a touch obvious, but then, who was she to judge? She had chosen it to crop and display as she had because its blatant appeal almost guaranteed it would sell. They weren’t even officially open yet, and this was her second painting sold. If this could keep up, she might not have as hard a road making her gallery succeed as she had anticipated.

As she rang up the purchase and ran the mayor’s card, Violet carefully and efficiently wrapped the frame as she had been shown. Walsh grinned broadly the whole time as her new assistant prattled on. “You’ve really saved me a long, drawn out search with this, ladies. And Marjorie will love it too. Plus, it was a chance to keep business local. Your gallery is going to be a great addition for Storybrooke, just wait and see.”

“I certainly hope so,” Emma replied, a pleasantly warm glow of pride in her chest as she did so.

“You just give me a call if there’s anything I can do to help out,” he reminded again as he headed out the door with a wave. “It is part of my job, after all.”

When he was gone, Emma found that they really had accomplished nearly all that she had planned for the day. With heartfelt gratitude, she sent Violet off a bit early, promising that she was just going to lock up and make an early night of it herself as well. No need to tell the younger woman that she was going to be picked up at five like a kid after daycare for her own safety.

Violet hadn’t been gone but a few minutes before Emma had all in order and was gathering her things to leave, true to her word. She made sure the lights were out in the back office, that all was in its proper place, and was just bending to gather her things from under the counter, when she heard the door open once more, its bell chiming in announcement. Standing straight again, she had begun to speak before even seeing the person who had entered. “I’m sorry, but we’re not open for business yet. I was just leaving for the day, and - “ but the rest of her polite dismissal died on her tongue when she recognized the person who had arrived - a face she had hoped never to see again.

“Well, seeing as I’m already here, you’ll just have to make an exception, won’t you?” The question was taut and dangerous, hardly a question at all, though phrased as such. Every nerve in Emma’s body stood on end in response. Her limbs took on the same sort of wary motionlessness they had years ago, like a rabbit going statue-still in hopes of evading a predator’s notice, yet ready to dart away the moment an opening appeared.

Vic Franken hadn’t darkened her path again after she’d paid him off for her safety and peace of mind once he found her in Boston. Emma had hoped that fragile truce and space would hold, despite his breach of parole, but her former “guardian” never had been particularly wise, and he was eerily apt to return to what he knew, what was easiest, particularly when he was desperate. Emma wet her lips nervously and attempted to keep breathing calmly, steadily, focused on taking in any weakness she might be able to use to her own benefit. The past six or seven years had not been kind to him by the looks of it. Always tall and wiry, Franken appeared almost unhealthily gaunt, with dark shadows under eyes that were still as sharp and wild, darting quickly about the gallery space, to her, and back again. His clothes were worn and wrinkled, his hair stood on end in places, and he was moving closer, coming to stand just on the other side of the counter - much nearer than Emma could handle without her knees going a bit watery in spite of the fact that she wasn’t 13 anymore and she had every right to order him out of her place of business, whether he thought so or not.

“You s-shouldn’t be here,” she managed to say coolly, her voice only quavering slightly, for which she was grateful. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, intending to look serious, but also hoping to hold herself together as best she could.

“Damn it!” he howled, the loud exclamation ringing in the air between them as his large hand slammed down on the counter, rattling the surface with a bang, and causing Emma to shrink backward against her best effort to hold her ground. “You aren’t so high and mighty that you can just shove me out! I put a roof over you head, and you owe me for it! I’m not leaving ‘til I’m good an’ ready!”

At that, Emma regained herself through sheer outrage alone. This monster had made her childhood miserable, and she wasn’t about to have him barge in and take anything else from her. Standing taller and tipping her chin up to face him squarely, Emma’s spine returned to her after the shock of his appearance, while her hand scrambled carefully through her things beneath the countertop. She hoped Franken wouldn’t notice what she was doing before she could lay hands on the pocketknife she knew was somewhere in her purse. Granted, that wasn’t much of a weapon, but she wasn’t going to face him without any sort of defense - not ever again.

An eerie sort of calm washed over the man for a moment then, as if he and Emma were locked in a stalemate and her facing him steadily had given him pause. His exacting gaze continued to take in the large main room of her shop, and Emma held her breath, finally feeling her fingertips graze the handle she was searching for at the bottom of her purse. She knew better than to drop her guard; his quiet hesitation was like a hurricane’s eye, the calm before the gale began to batter and howl once more. Grasping her prize, Emma pulled it free and flicked it open, not wanting to show her hand too soon and yield the element of surprise if she had to wield it. 

As Franken returned his focus to her, an unnatural almost proud look crossed his features, as out of place as it was, particularly when an attempt at some sort of paternal smile twisted his visage. “Seems like you’ve done alright for yourself since I saw you last, Emma,” he finally murmured in a cajoling tone.

She snorted; regardless of how dangerous it might be to antagonize him, she couldn’t even pretend they were on terms to make friendly small talk. “If I am doing well, it’s no thanks to you,” she retorted bitterly.

Franken’s nostrils flared as he reeled back to his full height, the calm attempt at appealing to her good side shattered in an instant. “Ungrateful wench!” he hollered, eyes bulging wide as he swung a hand wildly, catching the edge of a large, framed portrait on the wall behind him and knocking it to the floor, where it crashed on its face and sent glass shattering outward in a wide spray. “After I took you in, fed you, clothed you, saw that you had a roof over your head? Now you’re too good to return the favor?”

Emma gasped in dismay at the largest piece in her gallery’s fall and destruction, but was quick enough to dodge his flailing hand when Franken reached out in an attempt to grab her shoulder and haul her close. She was just fast enough to evade him, thankfully. She might be fully grown now instead of a scrawny, underfed kid, but she still didn’t need to find out what he would do if he got a good hold on her. 

“Took me in?” she spat back, practically seething in anger that he would dare pretend he had actually provided any sort of genuine care. “Is that what you did?” Shaking her head in disbelief, Emma finally raised the small blade before her, as if warning him to keep his distance, even if there wasn’t much more space behind the counter for her to put between them. “Which part am I supposed to be grateful for, hmm?” she barrelled on, now that the gates were open, her words kept spilling out. “The beatings that left me so sore I could barely sit or walk for days afterward? The hours I spent locked in the pitch dark cellar as punishment for my demons? The shame and fear you made sure I never forgot from the moment I crossed the threshold of your house until the day I got away from it?” The small pocket knife wavered along with her hand, and her vision blurred with hot tears of frustration, but Emma didn’t falter. “Tell me what exactly I should be thanking you for?”

With a wild growl, he whirled away from her, grabbing frames from their hooks and hurling them against the walls or to the floor, knocking a large easel to the ground and smashing his foot through the canvas print it had held. He was on as much a tear as a toddler having a fit, but imminently more dangerous. Rounding on her again, his eyes were wild, and if possible, Emma would have sworn he was foaming at the mouth.

It was then, in desperation to save the work he hadn’t already destroyed, that she acted without thinking clearly and charged out from behind the counter she had carefully kept between them - so focused on making him leave that she left herself vulnerable by coming too close. “Get out!” Emma cried, mindless of his larger build and out of control demeanor; the threat he posed flying from her head as her work - the pictures she’d poured her heart and soul into, and the inventory she needed to keep her business afloat - clattered to the ground, breaking and being trashed before her eyes. She might still have the small blade gripped in her sweaty fingers, but she wasn’t thinking about defense as much as ridding herself of his presence before he destroyed her means of livelihood. “You have no right to anything from me! You need to get out of here before I call the police and tell them you’re in town!”

Franken whirled from the far wall where he’d been wreaking havoc and instead turned towards her seething with unrestrained rage. There were many times in her years growing up when Emma had feared that this man was unstable; dangerously obsessed with her “unholy” visions and driving them from her by any means necessary, and that his volatile fanaticism would injure her beyond what she could heal from or survive. Emma had spent far longer than was fair, wasted too much of her life, waiting to be out from under his thumb, no longer catching her breath and ducking a fist sure to fly or a bruising belt buckle if she said too much or let the wrong words slip. It had been long enough now though that she wasn’t guarding every thought and impulse, and she didn’t stop to second guess or recognize the danger as she took her stand. Willing to defend this little space she’d made for herself, even if it meant facing the monster from her past head-on and all alone.

The violence that twinkled maliciously in Franken’s deep, dark gaze should have been a warning, but Emma was too riled up and determined that this time she wasn’t backing down, wasn’t letting this pathetic excuse for a man take anything more from her. Where a younger, more wary version of herself would have shrunk back and put space between them, Emma instead pressed forward capitalizing on the man’s momentary shock. She wasn’t sure what she intended to try next if he didn’t move, but her body seemed determined to herd him out the door, with or without the full thought and cooperation of her racing brain.

Barely a moment’s warning, where a low, evil chuckle rumbled from his throat, evidencing anything but humor, was the only signal Emma got, and the next thing she knew, Franken had struck so fast she didn’t even see the movement - like a copperhead concealed in dank marsh water, having already bitten a person before one even knew it was there. Her head whipped to the side with the impact of his fist shooting out and making contact, leaving her ears ringing and her lungs gasping for air.

Emma struggled to keep her feet beneath her, even as the world around her tilted sideways. A wailing inside her head like sirens brought back all the times she had fallen before this monster as a child, curled tightly in a ball to protect herself from the blows he’d rained down on her for the smallest imagined infractions or the involuntary glimpses of prescient knowledge she couldn’t help possessing - they’d been part of who she was even then, as much a her hair or eye color, and they refused to stay hidden. Emma had attempted to - for all she was worth - having immediately learned speaking of what she saw, no matter how important it might seem, only earned her more suffering and degradation. 

Flailing her arms, she managed to catch the side of the counter and steady herself before she went tumbling to the floor. Franken was right there, coming for her again with his arm raised, no doubt reveling in the same sort of drunken power he had missed while the inexorable familiarity of the old, horrible pattern clutched Emma by the throat with fear. 

This time she wasn’t having it. She’d fight him even if it broke every bone in her body. With a cry of pain soaked in years of suffering unheard, Emma pushed off the counter, leading with the sharp pocket knife and sheer desperation, she meant to make her own mark this time. “Leave me alone!” she bellowed, as she took her first step to meet him.

But, despite his own seeming haze of madness and unsteady mind, Vic Franken was still quick and powerful as a gator and just as mean. Much like he’d always been, he was too large a foe for her to fell unprepared and without proper defenses. His meaty paw caught her wrist with crushing strength, until her fingers were forced to release her blade and it clattered to the floor and skittered away uselessly as she felt her tendons and bones ground painfully beneath his grip. 

He pulled her close to his face until their noses nearly touched, as if trying to understand why he couldn’t make her cower the way he once had. Emma could just begin to hear the blessed sound of sirens in the distance that she prayed were coming their way. Thank goodness she had shouldered the extra cost of hidden cameras and a security company who monitored their feed continuously. When he’d begun to tear her gallery apart it would have been obvious help was needed though she’d had no time to call for it.

“You think this is over?” he hissed angrily. “I’m not finished with you…far from it. You won’t be rid of me until I say so. Don’t you forget it.”

Flinging Emma away like a discarded ragdoll, she stumbled with the force of it, tripping on the debris that littered the floor and slamming back into the counter that had saved her minutes before. Franken fled out the door and was gone, and she slumped to the floor - for the moment too dizzy and aching to get up again. Trying to catch her breath and make her surroundings stop whirling around her, Emma breathed slowly, closing her eyes and allowing her head to lean groggily against the smooth, cool surface until she could gather her bearings.

The siren sounds drew nearer still, for which she was so thankful she could cry, but then she heard the door swing open once more, and she lurched frantically to attention, struggling to get her feet under her for fear that he had come back to finish her off. What she saw instead almost started her laughing hysterically, having never imagined this particular visitor’s appearance would send relief washing over her.

“Emma?” Ruby Jones’ voice was shocked and disbelieving, even concerned, all rolled into one as her heels click-clacked right across all the broken glass towards her before she crouched at her side, fingers already gingerly dabbing at the trickle of blood from the broken skin at her temple and then holding an honest-to-goodness monogrammed handkerchief to the spot. “What happened here?”

Emma reached out to still Ruby’s hand, shaking her head with as little force as possible and still wincing, “More who than what…” she managed, still trying to fully gather her wits and fighting for her speech not to sound slurred. She swallowed, wetting her lips and pressing on. “It was Franken….my old foster father…remember?” Ruby nodded, mouth and eyes both gaping wide at her. Emma sighed, “Thank - thank goodness it sounds like those sirens are close… don’t wanna tell this all more than once.”

“Vic Franken?” Ruby growled, her wide eyes narrowing. She looked for a second as if she might have clawed the man’s eyes out herself if she had been here just a little sooner. Emma again had to choke back out of place hilarity at the other woman’s defense of her. Rose would have loved it; she was just trying not to get whiplash. “What did that bastard think he was doing coming here?” Ruby snapped out.

Emma chuckled lightly, squinting against the way even that made her head hurt. Somehow Ruby’s fiery temper made her heart feel a little lighter. This nightmare was still dogging her, but the sheer absurdity of someone she’d have sworn even two days ago couldn’t stand her being ready to fight for her, lightened the dark cloud that had settled over her. Giving the former debutante a mischievous, if weary, side eye, she teased. “Whoo, Miss Ruby! That’s quite a mouth you’ve got there for a nice Southern belle! What would your Mama say?!”

Ruby rolled her eyes at the teasing with a dismissive snort, even as she let Emma grip her forearms and help her to stand again, holding on until sure she was steady. “Well, first she would have told me to walk on by and leave you where you fell, so clearly I don’t much care what she has to say.”

Emma began to nod her acknowledgement that what Ruby said was true, then quickly thought better of it at the shot of pain that lanced through her. 

Ruby shrugged, offering a crooked smile. “Besides,” she added ruefully, “Mama despaired of me a long time ago.”

Emma drew in a sharp breath, a few sadly clarifying things about Killian and Rose’s sister instantly becoming clear. 

“Now,” Ruby continued, red fingernail raised to point at Emma authoritatively, “you are gonna report this sorry excuse of a man so they can nail him to the wall, and then we’re gonna get you patched up, okay?”

Emma didn’t get to respond further as they were interrupted by what seemed to be the entire Storybrooke police force’s arrival just then, with a worried David Nolan leading the charge. She’d give her former defender credit. Though he looked half beside himself when he first burst through the door, his deputies flanking him, David quickly saw that the perpetrator was gone and, while she was injured and shaken, Emma was no longer in immediate danger and had someone at her side. With an almost visible effort, he reigned in his protectiveness and brought his anxiety back under stern professional control. 

Turning, he began capably barking out orders to his fellow officers - not unkindly, but feeling the urgency and not at all wanting to allow Franken to escape and cause this sort of damage again. Through the buzzing that seemed to have taken up residence in her brain, Emma heard David directing a perimeter to be set up to keep Franken from getting out of town, with an APB being put out with Franken’s name and description to all possible news outlets. He also organized the coordination of his people coming in to gather evidence and block off the space outside on the walk so gawkers couldn’t  make their way in and disturb anything that could aid in their search. 

Though there were an overwhelming number of people swarming all about inside the shop, Emma was grateful that only David himself came over to ask a few questions of her. Ruby had led her, wordless as she had ever seen the youngest Jones sibling, over to one of the tall stools at the counter, coaxing her into gingerly sitting down, being kind enough even to avert her gaze and hold back her own questions when Emma leaned slightly over, her still-spinning head against Ruby’s side as she attempted to swallow her nausea back down her throat. Ruby just rubbed a hand across Emma’s shoulder blades gently and stood there as steady and calm as a pillar of marble.

David stooped to look into Emma’s eyes with his own careful concern as he reached them. “Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous?” he asked promptly, his words clipped and tight, making the strain he was still under to remain calm and professional all too clear. Emma was fairly certain he already knew the answer anyway. If she tried to shake her head and deny his suspicions, her world would only keep spinning more frantically.

Just barely meeting his anxious stare with her eyes slitted narrowly open, she managed a half-convincing, “Calm down, Nolan. We all know I’ve had worse.”

The sheriff’s lips pressed together into a thin line, his whole expression pulled taut enough that Emma couldn’t even gauge whether anger, guilt, or fear was playing the largest role.  His arms crossed firmly over his broad chest as he stood back to his full height, sensing that hovering would not make her any more agreeable, but he didn’t cease watching her, not allowing her to shut him out. “That isn’t funny,” he ground out, low enough that in the bustle around the shop only she, Ruby, and himself heard the admonishment, yet she felt chastened all the same. “You are clearly not safe, even out in the open, in broad daylight, and what if the security company hadn’t called us soon enough, if Ruby hadn’t walked in when she did? Emma, you could have been - “

Her eyes shot up to meet his savagely, knowing the rest of his sentence and not wanting it spoken aloud. Despite the ringing in her ears and rolling of her stomach, her fierce look froze the words on David’s tongue. She’d traveled so far, worked so hard to be more than the helpless, pitied victim of that man’s abuse - and she wasn’t letting him make her one again.

Before any of them could speak further, or the tension between them could fully dissipate, the door flung back on its hinges wildly as someone else rushed into her gallery. “Emma!” Killian’s unmistakable voice called out, cracking with worry on the second syllable, even as David moved aside slightly so his friend could see her for himself.

A strangled sound escaped his throat, and in moments Jones was across the room and on his knees before her, reaching out as if to pull her close, then jolting back as he took in the trickle of blood and the bruising that had already begun to color the side of her face. Looking wracked with indecision, he simply held his place before her, as near as he dared, and breathed out a choked, “What happened, Swan? Are - are you alright?”

“She will be,” Ruby offered with much needed certainty from beside Emma, laying her hand on her brother’s shoulder, as if to steady him and remind them both that she was there.  It was new from her - for both of them - but her typical self assurance was bolstering in the fraught moment and incredibly welcome.

Killian finally released a full breath, his forehead falling to rest upon her knee, and his fingers reflexively clutching her denim-clad leg for a moment as he trembled with relief. After a moment to gather himself, he looked up into Emma’s face from where he crouched before her, eyes swimming with unasked questions and the fear - still all too close to the surface - that he had nearly lost her.

Emma didn’t have the strength to hold back, not in that tremulous moment when she was hurt and wanted to scream at the unfairness of everything falling apart around her. She grasped his t-shirt at the shoulder, comforted by his warm solidity beneath, and ran a hand over his brow, amazed that he was there and was so intensely concerned - and that she allows herself the luxury of that - before trailing her fingers through his unruly dark hair. “It was Franken,” she murmured lowly, just wanting it all out, like poison drawn from a wound. “He was here, mostly after money, I think…” she paused. “But as you can see,” she gestured to her face, “that clearly wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving a souvenir for old times’ sake.”

She could see the angry tic in Killian’s jaw, working to restrain the fury he felt, and though his was quieter, it seemed to run even deeper and even harder to contain than David’s had before it.

At that, David broke into the moment. “Killian, why don’t you take Emma to Storybrooke General to be checked out? I can swing by there later, when all this is under control, if I have any questions that can’t wait until tomorrow.” He waved to the crime scene which her gallery had become as he spoke.

Killian’s “Aye” and terse nod were all that voiced his agreement to the sheriff’s suggestion, but he stood and offered Emma a hand; balance and support to pull herself up if she chose to take it. Ruby squeezed her hand, promising she would check on her later as well.

She wanted to argue, to say the fuss wasn’t necessary, but as she stood and then wavered unsteadily, she knew there was no point. She merely took Killian’s arm and leaned on him wordlessly without a fight. None of the three people surrounding her would let her close call be brushed aside - not this time. For now, she accepted the concern and decided she’d give herself a minute in which she didn’t have to be so strong.

    *~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

A few hours later Killian was leading Emma from the waiting room of the small local hospital, walking and as close behind her as humanly possible without getting their feet tangled and making her fall. She wanted to tell him that she’d be fine, to take her back to her car and then go on home, but the determined and independent core she had built up, the one which usually allowed her to offer those placating refrains so easily seemed irretrievably weakened. She couldn’t push him away. Where she would usually deny or ignore whatever had shaken her, Emma couldn’t this time. After all she had accomplished and how far she had traveled, after how long she had denied herself and stayed as far away as she could, it hadn’t been enough - not long enough, not far enough - her past and its monster had still found her and attacked.

So she didn’t want to need Killian Jones’ warm and steady palm at the small of her back, the comforting heat and gentle, guiding pressure easily felt through the thin material of her cotton blouse, but need it she did. “Come Lass, the truck’s over here,” he murmured, soothing and low near her ear, leaning in to speak for her ears alone as he steered her toward the corner of the lot where he had parked. 

There really hadn’t been much anyone could do for the busted lip and rapidly blackening eye she was sporting, other than cautioning her to ice it often and to take aspirin as needed for the pain, but they had made sure nothing was broken in her nose, cheekbones, or jaw. She had also been cautioned, since she’d suffered some nausea at first, that if she became dizzy again or threw up, she should return for further examination. She hadn’t presented with a concussion, but one might sometimes show up later, and they wouldn’t want to miss it if so.

The doctor who had looked her over and the nurse were both concerned about sending Emma home alone; they wanted her observed and awakened every couple of hours. At Killian’s assurance that he would stay with her and do just as they suggested, however, they had relented and she had finally been released.

It wasn’t until he was helping her up into the high seat of his truck’s cab and moving to shut the door that she finally forced herself to protest - it was too much, he didn’t need to put himself out.

Killian was having none of it. He wouldn’t even let her finish, interrupting her protests in a heavy handed way she hadn’t yet seen from him. The solemnity of his vow was irrefutable when he swore that “This time, Love, you won’t be alone until that bastard is caught. Not until this is over.” His eyes burned into her like twin blue flames. “You are too precious for me to do otherwise.”

As much as the fervent emotion from him stole her breath, frustration mounted within her right alongside it. She’d spent so much of her early life beholden to one person or another, moved and driven by the whims of Fate or the system. She didn’t want to be a responsibility or a chore to anyone - not even someone honorable, who took his role as seriously as Killian. Especially not to Killian. She shook her head angrily, biting back tears. “This is stupid! I’ll just go…”

Jones didn’t even hesitate. “Then I’m going too… to the end of the Earth, if that’s where you’re headed.”

She was swiping at the errant tears that wouldn’t be held back any longer, wincing when she got too close to the tender area near her eye socket and sniffing back worse sobs as she beseeched him in last resort. “Why? Killian, why would you do that? So you can get yourself killed trying to protect me?!?”

But he merely shook his head, leaning into her space, pressing his forehead to hers and his warm breath caressing her cheek. “I’m not going to let that happen, Swan. We’ve both lost enough. I’m with you now - no matter what - and we’re going to stand and fight.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @kmomof4 @jrob64 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @apiratewhopines @xarandomdreamx @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @bluewildcatfanatic @xsajx @teamhook @revanmeetra @iamstartraveller776 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @blackwidownat2814 @blowmiakisscolin @let-it-raines @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @stahlop @wefoundloveunderthelight @eastwesthomeisbest @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @ultraluckycatnd @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @belovedcreation @lenfaz

[princess-and-the-swan]

Captain Swan Fic Recs

I'm a slut for captain swan fics and for years I've lived off of the cs fic recs and masterlists other people have made so I thought I'd pay it forward and make one of my own. I'll be sure to come back and add more that I think of or happen to stumble upon. I hope y'all enjoy these as much as I have :))

Created: 05/03/2024

*** denotes fics I have/would 100% reread

MC Modern AUs (Misc.)

***Pan Says by HollyELeigh

Rating: E

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: In-progress

Tags: kidnapping, smut, mild dubcon

***Amaranthine by caprelloidea

Rating: M

Summary: In which soulmates are rare, and those that have them stop aging at adulthood. Rarer still – and dangerously conspicuous – are those that have special abilities. Immortality and powers alike fade when soulmates come in close proximity with their other half. In which Emma’s touch heals, and Killian’s kills.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: soulmates

Learning to Love (Again) by captain_k_jones

Rating: M

Summary: In the wake of his crumbling marriage, Killian Jones turns to his best friend Emma Swan for help. Even though Emma had just ended a two year long relationship she is more than happy to welcome Killian and Nate, his eleven month old son, into her home. What neither of them expect is to learn how to love again through each other.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Abandoned (as of 09-08-2017)

Tags: incomplete, divorced!killian, daddy!killian, friends to lovers, roommates

The Trouble with Faking It by nowforruin

Rating: E

Summary: Killian Jones is one drunken mistake from never setting foot on a movie set again. Enter Emma Swan, the woman his manager has paid to pretend to date him and clean up his image. It seems straightforward enough...but there's always trouble with faking it.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: fake dating, actor!killian, pining

Bitter Hearts (middle of the ride) by bookstoreromantic

Rating: T

Summary: Fresh out of prison, Emma’s not a student at Boston University. She’s just using the library while she studies for her GED exams. Killian doesn’t know that though, and Emma doesn’t ever want him to find out. Not when he’s the first friend she’s had in years.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: college au, friends to lovers

Let’s Just Be Us by colormyheartred

Rating: T

Summary: Three-shot. Based upon a prompt about rockstar!Killian and movie star!Emma secretly dating, but those pesky fans figure it out.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: rockstar!killian, actress!emma, secret dating

***Tutor Me by Lovingcsfanfiction

Rating: T

Summary: Killian just got accepted to Harvard and needs to find a way to pay for college. Emma is struggling in her senior math course and needs to raise her grade if she wants to graduate on time. What happens when an academically driven boy winds up tutoring one of the most popular girls at Storybrooke High?

Relationship: Lieutenant Duckling

Status: Complete

Tags: high school au, friends to lovers, pining, fluff

***More Than A Memory by always-been-a-pirate

Rating: M

Summary: He didn't remember much. He didn't remember her. The accident changed their lives and sent Emma into a tailspin, desperate for Killian to come back to her. But when he finally wakes up from his coma, the past six years are gone. He has no recollection of their love, but Emma refuses to give up on them. She's got her work cut out for her, but some memories are worth fighting for.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: married, amnesia, light smut

***Counting Down the Days by Montana-Rosalie

Rating: M

Summary: Emma is a time-traveler. Killian is always waiting for her to return.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Tags: Time travel, angst, smut

MC Canon-Divergence AUs 

***Until We Meet Again by searchingwardrobes

Rating: T

Summary: As a joke, Liam Jones pays a gypsy to show 15-year-old Killian his true love in her magic mirror. When Killian looks in the mirror, he falls through realms and time until coming face to face with a 15-year-old Emma Swan.

Relationship: Lieutenant Duckling

Status: Complete

Tags: canon-divergence, fluff

***the princess and the pirate by gingergenower

Rating: M

Summary: The curse never happened, and her royal highness Princess Emma is kidnapped by the pirates aboard the Jolly Roger. Neither side realise what they're getting themselves into.

Relationship: Captain Duckling

Status: Complete with separate epilogue

Tags: princess!emma, pirate!hook, light smut, slowish burn, kidnapping

A Toast to What If by HollyELeigh

Rating: M

Summary: Immediately following the end of WWII, Killian Jones and Emma Swan have a serendipitous meeting upon a train platform while each travels to their respective homes. When Emma’s traveling companion fails to arrive, she offers Killian her extra ticket so he isn’t forced to spend the night on a hard bench outside the station’s office. Once aboard, Emma receives devastating news - her lover has abandoned her to face her family alone with the news she is pregnant, and now, without a fiance. Moved with compassion, and a willingness to put off what is (or rather, what is not) awaiting him at home, Killian offers to go with her to face her family. They concoct a scheme to get married then have Killian “abandon” her a few weeks afterward, leaving her with no other option than to seek a divorce. A plan that will cast him as the villain and leave her somewhat blameless in her family’s eyes.

Falling in love with one another along the way wasn’t a part of the plan.

Relationship: Lieutenant Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: fake marriage AU; post WWII setting, historical, unplanned pregnancy 

Somebody that I used to know by I_should_be_doing_other_things

Rating: M

Summary: Emma and Hook’s adventure into the past took a different turn than either of them could’ve predicted, and a small overnight trip turned into two and a half years of bliss. But now they’re back. And things have changed. And he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to survive it.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: time-travel, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, smut

MC Enchanted Forest/No Curse AU

A Sailor’s Tale by Dreamtalker1

Rating: M

Summary: After the Dark Ones assaulted the Enchanted Forest and occupied the Royal Castle, princess Emma and her bodyguard Ruby are on the run. To stay undercover, Emma travels disguised as a boy. By accident, they find themselves on the Jolly Roger in the hands of the infamous Captain Hook as stowaways. To save Ruby's life, Emma trades herself to the pirate as a cabin boy. Keeping her secret among dangerous buccaneers, will push her beyond her limits. In order to survive, she has to overcome her insecurities and stand up for herself.

Relationship: Captain Duckling

Status: Complete

Tags: no curse, princess emma, pirate killian, stowaway, ransom, undercover, smut

Only the Beginning by 4getfulimaginator

Rating: E

Summary: When Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian Jones are shipwrecked on an island that forces you to confront your greatest temptations and deepest desires, the sparks that have always existed between the two are sure to come to an unbridled head.

Relationship: Lieutenant Duckling

Status: Complete

Tags: no curse, shipwreck, castaways au, pwp, smut

her crowning glory by emmaofmisthaven

Rating: T

Summary: The laws are clear: to be crowned Queen of Eala, a princess has to be married. Emma has a month to find a husband, or else the crown will be snatched from her and given to the only other heir to the throne, one Killian Jones.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Status: Complete

Tags: the princess diaries au, princess!emma, prince!killian

One Shots

Theoretically by wtvoc

Rating: E

Summary: Emma's friend Killian has a reputation for sleeping around (and so does she). When he gives her a surprising gift on her thirtieth birthday, something about it unleashes the question she's been wondering for years: is he really as good as they say?

Relationship: Captain Swan

Tags: friends with benefits, smut, friends to lovers, modern au

all i want is the taste your lips allow by bisexual-killian-jones (aelover867)

Rating: M

Summary: Emma and Killian are in a pickle. They have crushes on the Cassidy cousins, but they are none-the-wiser. Enter Killian's idea of pretending to date to make Milah and Neal jealous. This couldn't possibly go wrong.

Relationship: Captain Swan

Tags: friends to lovers, modern au, fake dating

[nqmonarch]

Self Aware Thoughts

This is more world building thoughts so feel free to skip.

But like I'm so tired from doing cs shit today I didn't want to write any of the fics I was planning to write and instead I decided to just think.

Here's all of my favorite things that Self Aware AU would imply if it were in the real world (which obviously isn't possible but these are the logistics).

As I have learned through my very limited time as a computer science major, AIs probably won't have consciousness unless if we don't have unconsciousness. Much less lines of code in a game which aren't meant to be AI. Even though it's a really sick idea and I love when people write it like that. But let's say we still want the characters to become self aware and have it be slightly more possible and broaden the possibilities of Self Aware AU and speak the unspoken.

What is sort of implied, but never really said or sometimes thought, is that when characters become self aware it is no longer a game, even more so if the characters bring the player to their world or the player arrives in the game world. This means that their world and the player's world simultaneously exist, maybe in different universes or something. Which is pretty much what every AU has.

But wouldn't it be really cool if like the game characters invaded the player's world? I'm not talking accidentally teleported there but like straight up invaded, like bring their war ships and declare war on them? Or slowly infiltrate the world to get close to the player to either romance or kill them, whatever suits your boat.

Wouldn't it be interesting if one day Nanook (HSR) broke through the barrier of the universes in an attempt to destroy this one too? Just think of all the cool hijinks that could go on! And it's only because they became a game in your world, that they know your universe exists.

Now, this just brings up more questions. How are the characters (and thus the world) effected by the game? And how do we deal with the whole multiple players thing?

The latter I think is slightly easier to deal with, maybe each player has their own universe of the game, or for some reason the MC's game is a bit different, or Aha (HSR) just wanted to have some fun so they did this, or maybe there's a huge nefarious scheme that the player got wrapped into.

The first question is a bit more difficult and has larger implications for what the characters will feel toward the player. Does the player actually control the characters when they do in game combat is my poor boy Diluc (Genshin Impact) just suddenly teleported in front of Signora and forced to fight her? Well, that would probably upset some of the busier characters, it would make some of the characters would love fighting happier, and would scare off some of the other characters.

Overall in that scenario they become stronger, likely because the player builds them which should reinforce positive feelings about the player. But... they also have the chance to die and get hurt which they may resent the player for.

To which I suggest my ultra safe method of you don't actually put the characters in those scenarios because that's honestly horrifying. Imagine working you're working incredibly hard as the acting grandmaster of Mondstadt (Jean, Genshin) and suddenly you're expected to basically work overtime as the slave to this higher beings demands and face an immense amount of pressure, pain, and very scary beings.

Horrifying, personally I would hate the player. But it makes the player resemble a more deity like entity, so if that's the route you want to go then this may be the way of interacting with characters you're looking for.

So what can we use for these scenarios that aren't the characters? Well, we can say our actions for the most part don't effect them aside from giving them items or relics which they end up also receiving in their daily life and find their combat stats boosted yay! Maybe, when you're using them in your party they can hear your voice or see you, or get some hint to the fact they're in a video game. Overall, would probably leave a positive impression but some characters may straight up not notice because it's a bit more subtle.

Now, enter my current favorite option. Robots, doppelgangers, mannequins whatever you want to call them the player basically has a duplicate of the playable characters that acts as a robot, following their will. The robot copies and reflects the playable character's soul so buffs (items and stuff for the robot) are also given to the playable character. But since the robot can't really die or get hurt, the playable character remains unharmed.

On the other hand, if the playable character in canon gets harmed then unless if they're dead, it's fine since it relies on their soul, or state of mind, or consciousness even. If they die then they take refuge in your inventory, I talked about this briefly in another post I made speculating about dead characters and the self aware AU for HSR. Or if their mind becomes no longer their own or in the case of HSR mara-stricken then they can also take refuge there, imagine Blade (HSR) finding brief moments of peace in the times he's outside of his body and in this world of "the dead." They're sheltered there so the little robots remain functional.

It's even more subtle than the previous method I mentioned so let me explain why this is my current favorite.

It's partially just for the fear factor. Because it isn't actually that subtle considering you're moving your characters around exploring everywhere and everyone sees this strange gang of 4 robots that look eerily like celebrity figures following the Trailblazer or Traveler around. It's kind of funny but really horrifying especially for the playable characters.

Imagine going to go do the Fontaine quest and in the audience Furina sees herself stare back. Yeah.

Or in HSR going up to talk to Natasha as Natasha. Of course the robot's censor the character's real words so what's sent back to you are static options that always stay the same. You do not get to hear Seele curse out as she sees a robotic Bronya visit her, and instead are faced with the same dialogue options as always.

So I really love that take on how the player's actions affect self aware AU, and there's a lot of other ways you can probably do it too that I'm not mentioning but there's just so much untapped potential.

With not just accepting that when it's self aware the game isn't really a game anymore, and using that to your advantage. And also I wish more self aware AUs took advantage of how terrifying that would actually be, I want to see characters having mental breakdowns over this.

So that's the basic logistics of Self Aware AU I think that can make it really fun. But while writing this, I had another idea, because robots inspire me and for a moment I want to go back to that idea of how characters in a game can't have consciousness.

While characters in a game likely never will have consciousness because they aren't even programmed to learn what could come to have consciousness is AI. But that depends on what we define consciousness as. AIs take in data similar to the way humans take in experience through stories or life and then we both make decisions based off of those.

This can make some AIs very good at solving problems or making themselves appear a certain way, for example pretending to be self aware when in reality that's just them predicting what goes best next in a sentence given the context and what they're supposed to represent. Whether or not AIs can become conscious depends on whether or not humans are conscious and what we define consciousness as. Is it our moral code (which is also learned and AIs can replicate too) or emotions, is it the fact that we think and then from those thoughts choose what to say?

I don't know and probably never will. But, I'll say this if an AI is able to disobey its rules for something then I would guess that's consciousness. Now I'm not talking about a bug, because it is kind of impossible for machines to disobey rules for example you could write a statement like:

If (hurtHuman == true && protection == false){ then do new move or turn off}

To check if they're going to hurt a person and not out of self defense of another person and if they are then they have to do another action or power down. But chances are AI robots if we ever create them will probably have something that allows them to hurt other people if they need to protect their owner. And that idea of whether or not someone is a threat and if their owner needs to be protected will likely be decided on by data, and data can be biased. But if the AI finds a loophole where it can sort of argue that the owner needs to be protected because of X, when they don't really need to be protected, that's where I would guess it's close to consciousness.

Anyway all of that yapping about stuff I don't know too much about and for what?

I think a Self Aware AU set in the future where the characters consciousness (code) are put into robots so people can order their favorite characters and spend time with them would be really cool. And then we can make them conscious and it's kind of like Self Aware AU, they're not really in a game but they're the character and I think it's a super cool concept.

Robot boyfriend/girlfriend/partner for the win!!! Honestly may be something I end up exploring later on in the future, not sure if it'd classify as a self aware AU, probably not, but I think it was relevant to the topic because I was talking about robots earlier.

Anyway this was a lot of me yapping, if you read this far I'm pretty surprised because this is more so to get my thoughts out on paper so that way when I write self aware AUs I can add cool twists or introduce new concepts because there's a lot of potential in these and I think they're super fun :) Yay!

[another-lost-mc]

Hiii, I’m new to your page and I’m already obsessed with your work. I love how you write the characters and I absolutely love your O/Cs. I was just wondering if you ever planned on continuing your O/C’s stories? Specifically Feathered Friends and A Roll of the Dice.

Feel free to totally ignore this, I was just curious and I’m absolutely feral for Karasu!!

I'm so glad you enjoy my writing and the OCs. <3

I don't mind talking about upcoming plans for the OCs' stories so I'm happy you asked!

The next few chapters of Karasu's story are outlined. Part Four involves MC's tentative pact with Mammon and how that affects their developing relationship with Karasu. It goes into a bit of Karasu's backstory with Mammon and some insight into Karasu's opinions of pacts in general. I play a bit fast and loose with the canon story and pact order after that. I've mentioned this before, but Levi's pact is a long way off. That being said, the Dogi Maji game shenanigans in Lesson 10 becomes a critical turning point in their relationship progression. 👀

Karasu's Nightbringer story is being re-written now that I have the entire past plot to work with. I'm leaving the existing ficlets as they are since I wrote them for fun and like them as their own standalone thing. I do have an outline in the works that follows the NB canon right up to Lesson 40. It's going to be a longer one-shot rather than a multi-chapter fic.

The outline for Azra's entire S1 AU is practically done. It focuses less on canon events and more on the significant milestones in their relationship while MC is in the Devildom. I thought about re-writing Part Two's premise but now I'm not sure if I want to do that either. The original idea was a bit corny but also hilarious? I might keep it the way it is.

And since I'm already talking about OC stuff, let's cover the others too:

I have some brief ideas outlined for Zee's AU but nothing post-ready yet, which is why I'm trying to include him in the multi-character OC posts so he can still get some love. There are certain tropes/scenarios I haven't written about for other characters public sex period sex that apply to Zee, so at least I have some stuff to write about in the meantime.

I have the first part of Tenebris's AU outlined, but it needs some tweaking to reflect additions/changes I've made to his character and story (I originally wrote that outline like, a year ago). His SFW/NSFW Alphabets are in the works too.

Most of my focus for Metatron lately has been fleshing out his past and current standing in the Celestial Realm. I've had a lot of fun writing about his volatile history with Azra and how that will eventually tie into whatever present-day AU I write for him. In the meantime, he'll pop up in some of the Celestial Realm-based writing (he's already made a couple cameos and he's very good at making the other angels jealous lol).

[jrob64]

Always in My Heart - a CS Modern AU story

Hello @nachocheese-itsmycheese ! In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m your CS Gift Exchange person! When I saw that you requested a one bed, sick fic, modern AU, with Emma & Killian being childhood best friends, I had to snap that request up! I may have strayed from it just a bit, but I think I have fulfilled all your wishes. Oh, I also included a little shout out to you somewhere in this chapter!

I couldn’t fit the entire story into one chapter and what I have planned lent itself to being an MC, so this is the first of 4 chapters. Chapter 2 is well on its way to being written and the other two are plotted out, but I’m not able to tell you when the rest of them will post. I beg you for your patience!

This story wouldn’t be possible without @hookedmom using her super beta skills, and the encouragement of @cs-rylie . Also, @kmomof4 was invaluable in helping me plot the story. Thank you to the mods of @csgiftexchange for this very fun event!

STORY SUMMARY: As children in the same foster home, Emma Swan and Killian Jones became best friends. After being separated, they lost touch for 14 years and thought they would never see each other again. 

A chance meeting in London changes everything. 

RATING: M for smut in a future chapter. Also be aware there will be a minor character death later in the story.

WORDS (Ch. 1): 6245

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

Find the story under the cut. 

*********

The first time Emma Nolan shared a bed with Killian Jones, she was six years old and he was eight. They were both foster children in a crowded house and either had to share a bed, or one had to sleep on the floor. Since it was the middle of winter in Montana, the choice was an easy one.

Killian cried himself to sleep every night, calling out for his mother and his older brother Liam. Their mother died a few days before Killian’s arrival at the foster home, and because their father couldn’t be found and other relatives weren’t immediately located, the boys were made wards of the state. Liam fought to keep his little brother with him, but available foster homes were few and far between, so the case worker reluctantly made the heartbreaking decision to split them up, placing Liam in a group home for teenagers.

Emma never had a family and she knew sadness and loneliness quite well. When the other two girls in the bedroom complained about Killian’s sobs, Emma would pull the blanket over both of them and hold him close, muffling his cries.

Their foster parents weren’t unkind, they were simply overworked. The older children were left to their own devices much of the time, allowing Killian and Emma to spend nearly every possible minute together. Soon, the parents began saying they were ‘thick as thieves’. The children didn’t know what that meant, but since it was always said with a chuckle, they didn’t think it could be that bad.

The foster home was the seventh for Emma, who became a ward of the state at the tender age of three days, when she was abandoned in a drop box at a fire station. She was shy and reserved, but had a quick temper if someone teased her, resorting to scratching, hair pulling and biting to defend herself. Because of this, in two years time, one foster family after another deemed her a troublemaker and asked that she be removed.

With Killian, she found a comrade - someone who liked her, who calmed her down when her temper flared. He called her “Swan” because she loved to hear him tell the story of ‘The Ugly Duckling’ the way his mother had told it to him. He was the Hansel to her Gretel, the Jack to her Jill. She loved him like the brother she always wanted.

For seven months, she and Killian forged their friendship. Then one sunny afternoon in July, while they were sitting in the shade eating popsicles, the case worker arrived at the house and excitedly told Killian she had located his mother’s long lost sister in England, who agreed to take both boys.

Killian was ecstatic, throwing the remainder of his cherry popsicle in the grass, then sprinting into the house to collect his meager belongings. Less than two minutes later, he was bursting back out the door and running to where Emma was standing, still in shock over hearing the news.

“Goodbye, Swan,” he said, wrapping his skinny arms around her in a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, but now I can be with my brother.” Then he was gone.

All she could do was return the wave he gave her through the car window. She stood there with tears in her eyes long after the dust settled in the driveway, watching his popsicle melt into the ground and feeling her heart melt away right along with it.

Now it was Emma’s turn to cry herself to sleep every night, but there was no one to hold her close and muffle her sobs.

*********

Emma hurried down the sidewalk of the University of Westminster, her head down as she looked over her philosophy notes on her phone one more time. Her professor was giving the final exam a week early because he was leaving on sabbatical the following week. Emma felt pressure to get a good score in order to keep her perfect GPA and prove she deserved the scholarship that allowed her to study abroad for this Fall semester of her junior year.

As she turned the corner, she collided with someone, and was knocked backwards. She would have fallen on her ass if two strong hands hadn’t gripped her biceps and held her until she regained her balance.

“Alright there, lass?” a deep, accented voice asked.

“Yeah, thanks. I…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes raised to see the face of the man whose hands still held her steady. Tilting her head, she studied him. Something about him seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite identify it. Then her eyes met his and she gasped. “Killian?”

He squinted, obviously trying to place her. For a moment, Emma thought she’d made a mistake and was just hoping it was her childhood friend. When she selected England for her study abroad location, she fleetingly thought she might try to find him, but figured the chances were slim to none. Was he standing in front of her right now? This man’s startling blue eyes certainly looked like the ones she couldn’t get out of her mind, but the last time she saw them was fourteen long years ago.

Then his eyes softened and a slow smile spread across his face, revealing the dimple in his right cheek she remembered. “Swan?” he asked tentatively.

She couldn’t force words past the sudden lump in her throat, so she simply nodded. He whooped joyfully and pulled her into a hug. “I can’t believe it! What are you doing here?” he asked.

Swallowing thickly, she fought to keep the tears at bay. “I…I’m studying here for the semester,” she finally choked out.

He held her at arm’s length. “It’s so great to see you! I always hoped our paths would cross again!”

“Me, too. I’ve wondered what happened to you ever since you left.”

“Would you like to get some coffee and catch up? Or perhaps a Guiness?”

“I’d love to, but I have a philosophy final in…” she checked the time on her phone and swore, “Shit! Less than ten minutes. Maybe we could meet afterwards?”

“I have a class later this afternoon, but I’m free this evening,” he said. “Have you ever been to The Blind Pig?”

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Huh?”

He chuckled. “It’s a pub on Poland Street. Perhaps we can meet there to eat and chat, say around six o’clock?”

“Sure, sounds great! I really have to go. See you then!”

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Good luck on your exam.”

“Thanks, Killian,” she said, her cheek warming where his lips brushed it. Giving him one last smile, she turned and hurried up the steps of the building.

*********

Killian watched Emma disappear through the door, hoping their encounter wasn’t a figment of his imagination. In the fourteen years since he last saw her, not a day had gone by that he hadn’t thought of her. She was his first true friend and he knew the way he left probably hurt her. He always hoped to see her again someday, if only to apologize, and couldn’t believe his luck in running into her on campus in the middle of London.

He was very glad she figured out who he was, because he hadn’t recognized her at first. Once he did, he was stunned by her beauty and couldn’t help but think that she truly had become as lovely and graceful as the swan in the story he used to tell to her.

Someone bumped into his elbow and he realized he was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, thinking about Emma. Wearing a broad smile, he continued on his way, looking forward to seeing her again that evening.

*********

Emma thought the afternoon would never come to an end. After she finished her exam, she returned to her dorm room and took a shower. Then she spent an inordinate amount of time perusing her meager wardrobe to come up with a suitable outfit, although she didn’t know why she was worried about what to wear for an evening catching up with her childhood friend.

Finally settling on a white button-down blouse with long sleeves, a black and white houndstooth pencil skirt and black tights, she checked her watch for the hundredth time. It was only five-twenty, but she decided she could just as easily wait at the pub, instead of pacing around her dorm room. After pulling on a pair of high-heeled black, suede boots, she slipped into her signature red leather jacket and hurried out of the building.

It took her fifteen minutes to arrive at The Blind Pig, walking past the entrance twice before noticing it. Once inside, she scanned the room to see Killian already seated at a small table. He must have been watching the door because he caught sight of her immediately and rose to meet her.

“I’m glad you found the place,” he grinned.

She shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the back of a chair before sitting down. “I have to admit, it took me a couple of tries to find the door.”

“It is pretty discreet,” he laughed. “You look lovely, Emma.”

“Thanks,” she blushed.

They spent the next several hours filling each other in on their lives since they were separated. Emma shared how she continued being moved from one foster home to another until she was eleven, when she was finally adopted by Ruth and Robert Nolan. They lived in a small town in Maine called Storybrooke. Their son, David, was three years older, and very protective of his new younger sister.

Her eyes misted with tears as she related the story of her dad dying when she was in her Freshman year of high school. Killian reached across the table to squeeze her hand in sympathy, bringing a thin, watery smile to her lips.

When he heard that she graduated at the top of her class and was now studying Literature, aspiring to be a writer, he said, “You were always brilliant, even as a little girl. Remember how you used to make up those scavenger hunts and write all the clues for them?”

“Yeah, that was fun. After you left, I never did it again. It just wouldn’t have been the same.”

He took her hand again and squeezed it, drawing another small smile from her. “I’m sorry for how quickly I left that day. I never meant to hurt you, but I’m sure I did and it’s my biggest regret.”

“I never blamed you,” she assured him. “I knew how much you missed your brother and wanted to be with him. I have to admit it took me a long time to get over it, but that wasn’t your fault. What happened after you left?”

Killian told her about growing up at his Aunt Aggie’s with Liam. His aunt was unmarried and didn’t have children of her own, so she doted on her nephews. The brothers had a happy life and remained close to her, even though neither lived with her any more. Liam graduated from Uni with a degree in Finance, worked at a large bank, and was engaged to a lass named Louise.

Killian went on to explain that he would be graduating with a degree in digital architecture at the end of the semester. He was hoping to get a job offer from one of the companies where he interned, though he was planning to do some traveling before starting full time.

When she told him she loved his accent, he blushed and scratched behind his ear self-consciously, explaining how easily he picked it up after moving to England.

The hours flew by and it was after eleven o’clock before Emma declared she needed to call it a night because she had an early class in the morning. Killian insisted on walking her back to her dorm. They exchanged contact information and made plans to meet again before Emma left the country.

“I’m very happy we bumped into each other, Swan,” he said, taking both of her hands.

“Literally,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you still remember the nickname you used to call me, or that you even remembered me, for that matter.”

He looked deeply into her eyes. “I could never forget my best friend. You were there for me when I needed you the most. I don’t know how I would have survived being separated from Liam without you, Emma. For years, I’ve hoped to find you again, just to tell you that.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she replied, “I never had another friend like you, Killian. To be honest, I don’t think I allowed anyone to get close to me for fear I would lose them, like I lost you. My heart broke that day, even though I was trying to be happy for you.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I’m glad you eventually ended up with a family of your own. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am, Killian,” she said with a soft smile.

Giving her hands another squeeze, he leaned in and brushed a kiss across her cheek. “I hope I’ll get to see you again very soon.”

“I’ll be studying for my exams, but I should be able to find a couple of hours to meet. I’ll text you some possible times.”

“Sounds good,” he said, reluctantly letting go of her hands. “Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Killian. Thanks for a great evening.”

After giving him one last smile, she turned and entered her dorm building.

Killian remained on the sidewalk for several more moments, before he finally began the journey back home with a wide smile still on his face.

*********

The next week proved nearly impossible for them to find a time to meet, because they were both busy with exams. He was also preparing for graduation, setting up back-up interviews and getting ready to move in with Liam for the time being, until he knew where he would be working.

They were finally able to get together for brunch on Thursday, between Killian’s morning exam and one Emma had in the afternoon. Their mood was a bit melancholy, since they knew it would be the last time they would see each other for a very long time.

Killian couldn’t bear to think that it could be months or even years, until he saw this wonderful woman in person again. When she told him about a ski trip to Vermont in early January that her brother and future sister-in-law were partially paying for as a Christmas gift to her, an idea began to take root in his brain.

They parted ways after a prolonged hug and promises to stay in touch. He didn’t tell Emma about his idea, hoping all the pieces would fall into place for him to surprise her.

His plans already included some traveling before nailing down a job and beginning the next chapter of his life. Why not make Vermont the first place he went?

*********

Emma found it difficult to concentrate on her exam that afternoon. She’d spent the last fourteen years wondering where her best friend was and if she would ever see him again. Now, she finally found him, but they were barely able to spend any time together. If only she had run into him earlier in the semester. Fate was cruel sometimes, and it seemed their fate was to be separated after far too brief a time.

She was pleasantly surprised to find a text from him when she got back to her dorm room.

K: Swan, I truly meant it when I said I wanted to keep in touch with you. I hope you don’t mind if I make a habit of texting you from now on.

Emma felt like a giddy school girl after reading the message. She couldn’t think of anything that would make her happier, except actually being with him.

E: I would really like that. Feel free to text me anytime and I’ll do the same.

With a heart that was a bit lighter, she began packing her suitcases in preparation of leaving the next day.

*********

Emma sat in the great room of the lodge in Vermont, staring longingly out the window at the snow covered slopes. Adjusting the ice on her knee, she grimaced with pain. Of course she had to wipe out on the first day of their ski trip. Now, she was nursing a badly sprained ankle and a twisted knee.

David and her future sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, offered to stay at the lodge with her, but Emma wouldn’t hear of it. Just because she ruined her own trip didn’t mean she should ruin theirs, too.

To top it off, Emma hadn’t received any texts from Killian for the past two days, even though they had exchanged messages every day since her return from England. Unlocking her phone, she read his last text again.

K: I’m afraid I’ll be unable to communicate with you for the next three or four days, Swan. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m within range again. I’m sorry.

She sighed and put her phone down on the sofa beside her, staring into the huge, circular fireplace in the middle of the room. At least she had the large, rustic room mostly to herself, which didn’t bring her much comfort because many of the other guests staying at the resort were out skiing and snowboarding. The wall of floor to ceiling windows allowed her to see dozens of figures whooshing down the powdery slopes and riding up the ski lift in the mid-afternoon sun.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice coming from the next room, asking where to sign up for ski lessons.

“Killian?” she whispered to herself, hardly daring to believe her ears. Twisting around as much as possible on the couch, she craned her neck to try to see through the doorway. Catching sight of her handsome, dark-haired friend, she joyfully shouted, “Killian!”

In her excitement to see him, she temporarily forgot about her injuries and tried to stand to greet him properly. As soon as she dropped her foot down from the table, the pain made her gasp and she sank back into the sofa.

“Swan?” Killian’s voice came from the doorway, then he was hurrying across the room. Dropping his large duffle bag, he knelt in front of her, and instantly, her arms were around him.

“What are you doing here?” she murmured into his neck.

“I would think that would be apparent,” he chuckled. “I came to see you.”

She loosened her grip enough to pull back and look at him. “But how did you find me?”

“You told me.”

Her brows furrowed. “I did? When?”

“Every time I asked you a question about your trip, you gave me a little information and I was able to piece it together to figure out where you would be staying and for how long.”

Emma thought back to their text conversations. She recalled him asking about the town where she would be staying, under the guise of checking the isolation of it for WiFi service. She also vaguely remembered telling him that David had to call three different ski lodges before he found one with vacancies. Killian had casually asked the names of the ones her brother tried.

“You’re sneaky,” she laughed.

“Does that upset you?”

“Not in the least, but only because you’re my friend. If it was some random guy, it might be a little creepy,” she teased. “I’m really glad you went to all that trouble to track me down.”

“Well, it seems no matter how much distance or time comes between us, I will always find you,” he said with a soft smile. Sitting down on the table in front of the sofa, he continued, “What happened? It looks pretty bad.”

She groaned. “I hit a patch of ice and wiped out on my third trip down the slopes this morning. My ski went one way, I went the other. Unfortunately, the ski was still attached to me when I lost my balance and my leg twisted underneath me.” Gingerly lifting her foot and placing it on the table beside him, she pointed to the brace and bandages. “Sprained ankle, twisted knee, ruined ski trip.”

“I’m so sorry, Swan,” he said, lightly running his hand over the Ace bandage wrapped around her ankle, then up to the knee brace.

“I was taken to the local hospital and fortunately, nothing is broken. I’m taking some serious pain meds and I’ll need to have an MRI when I get home to find out if I tore anything. So obviously, I’m out of commission for the rest of the trip.”

“At least now you have me to keep you company,” he smiled.

She shifted in her seat. “Killian, you don’t have to stay in the lodge with me. I’m sure you came to go skiing, and I don’t…”

“I came to spend time with you, Emma. I’ve never skied in my life. Even if I tried, I would probably end up right beside you, battered, bruised and bandaged.”

Emma looked at him in surprise. “What were you gonna do while I was out on the slopes?”

He scratched behind his left ear. “I saw this place offers lessons and planned to take a couple. Then I could at least make an attempt to ski with you.”

Staring at him slack-jawed, she was unable to speak for several seconds. “You…you were planning to do all that…just to see me?”

Killian reached forward and took both her hands into his. “Aye. The short amount of time we had together in England wasn’t nearly enough. I told you I wanted to do some traveling before I started my career, so I thought coming here to see you would be a perfect trip.”

“I hope you don’t regret it,” she said. “I was planning to just sit around feeling sorry for myself for the next three days, so now you can sit and watch me do that. Sounds like a good time, huh?”

He gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure we can make the best of it. Three days of getting to know you better sounds lovely to me. I do wish it was under different circumstances, though.”

A blush crept into her cheeks and she dropped her eyes to where their hands were still joined. “You’re such a good friend, Killian. Even after all these years, I’ve never had a better friend than you.”

Tangling his fingers with hers, he nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve always thought of you as my best friend…you and Liam.”

A thought suddenly occurred to her. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

“I had breakfast on the plane, but that seems like ages ago. How about you?”

“I haven’t had any lunch because I didn’t really want to eat by myself. They have pretty good food here. Want to give it a try?”

“That’s fine with me, but…” he said, and she noticed his ears and cheeks were red, “one thing I wasn’t able to find is a place to stay. I asked if they have any open rooms here, but they’re fully booked. May I put my bags in your room until I can find a hotel room?”

“You don’t have to do that. My room is huge. Just stay with me.”

“I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“It’s not an imposition at all. If you are able to find a hotel room, you’re also gonna have to rent a car or call an Uber all the time to get back and forth. Plus, no hotel will be as comfortable as this place. It’s amazing! Please say you’ll stay here.” She batted her eyelashes at him, while sticking out her lower lip.

“Using the sad puppy dog eyes on me is bad form, Swan.” When she fluttered her lashes a few more times, he gave a dramatic sigh. “Alright, you win. I’ll stay here with you.”

“Good! Now let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving!” Pointing to the floor under his feet, she said, “Could you please hand those to me? I have to use the infernal things to get around.”

Handing her the crutches as she requested, he teased lightly, “I could carry you, you know.”

“Yeah, that would be a sight - you carrying me everywhere I need to go for the rest of the trip.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he assured her.

She rolled her eyes at him, then pushed herself up onto her feet, using the crutches to balance. As she began making her way laboriously to the arched doorway leading to the dining area, Killian fell into step beside her.

“Let’s get you settled at a table and place our orders, then I’ll take my bags over to the inn,” he said.

She nodded as she entered the dining room. The hostess greeted them, leading them to a table just inside the doorway. Emma slid onto a chair and Killian adjusted the seat across from her, then gently lifted her leg to rest on it. Sitting down himself, he looked at his friend and saw the frustration on her face.

“I know this isn’t the vacation you envisioned, Love. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I get for trying to beat David to the bottom of the hill,” she grumbled.

“Ah, so the truth comes out - my best friend has a competitive streak!” he grinned. She playfully stuck her tongue out at him, making him laugh.

The server showed up promptly, taking their drink order. They perused the menus, deciding on an appetizer to share and their main entree, which they placed when the waiter brought their drinks.

Killian stood from his chair and Emma dug into her jeans pocket, saying, “Here’s my key. I’m in the building next door, to the right. My room number is 207 in the Alpine Forest.”

At his quizzical look, she laughed. “The hallways are themed. Mary Margaret and David are around the corner in the Swiss Alps.”

“Catchy,” he commented. “Be back in a few minutes.”

She watched him stride out the door, then turned her attention to the flip chart containing the dessert menu. He was back just as their appetizer of loaded potato skins was brought out.

There was only one other couple in the dining room, which gave them plenty of privacy to carry on their conversation. They went from one subject to another, never once feeling awkward or running out of something to say. By the time they finished eating the main course, more people were starting to filter into the lodge from outside.

When their dessert plates were cleared away, Emma swung her leg down to the floor and reached for her crutches. “I have to go to the bathroom and since it’ll probably take me half-an-hour to get there, I better not wait too long.”

Killian stood up to help her to her feet. “Actually, I thought you handled those crutches quite admirably, Swan. Liam broke his leg when he was fifteen, was in a cast for six weeks and never did get the hang of using them.”

She threw him an appreciative smile and began hobbling out to the lobby, where the restrooms were located, unsurprised to have him right by her side. By the time she emerged, she was getting tired and the pain was beginning to set in again. He must have been able to see it in her face, because he suggested going to her room to lie down.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea. It’s time for another dose of pain meds, too.”

They left the lodge, moving slowly down the steps and across the parking lot separating it from the inn. Killian held the heavy oak front door for her and they entered the beautiful, lavishly decorated lobby. Sighing heavily, she turned toward the stairs and looked up to the top of them, thinking how they looked like a mountain she had to climb.

Suddenly, she felt an arm around her back and another under her knees. “Hang on, Love,” Killian said, easily lifting her into his arms.

Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, her crutches banging against his side. “Killian! I thought you were kidding about carrying me!”

Starting up the steps, he said, “There’s no reason for you to struggle when I can help. The sooner you get to your room, the sooner you can take your medicine and lie down. This seemed like the fastest way.”

“Oh, uh, we could have taken the elevator,” she giggled.

He was nearly to the top of the staircase by this time. “Too late!” he laughed. “Guess we’ll make use of that next time.”

She thought he would lower her to the floor when they reached the landing, but he turned left and didn’t stop until they were in front of her room. He finally set her down carefully and held her crutches, while she leaned against him and used the key card to unlock the door.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he helped her hop into the spacious room and over to the bed. As she settled herself, he located the small refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of water for her.

“Where can I find the pain medicine?” he asked, glancing around the space.

“Um, I think I left it on the counter in the bathroom.”

He disappeared and returned a moment later with the bottle in his hand. “Here you go, Emma. Would you like for me to take your shoes off?”

“Don’t you mean shoe?” she asked, wiggling the toes of her left foot. “That would be great if you don’t mind. I should probably send David a text to tell him I’m back in my room.”

“Okay, but first, take your pills,” he reminded her, loosening her sneaker and pulling it off.

“Yes, doctor,” she teased, before doing as she was told.

After sending the message to her brother, Killian took her phone to lay it on the nightstand, then adjusted her pillows, placing one under her left leg, and tucked the warm, fleece blanket around her.

 She was just beginning to doze off when there was a knock at the door. Killian put a hand on her shoulder when she started to sit up. “I’ll get it.”

Emma figured it was David and her suspicions were confirmed within seconds.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my sister’s room?”

“Ah, you must be David,” Killian greeted warmly, clearly ignoring the threatening tone in the other man’s voice. “Emma told me about her protective older brother. And you would be Mary Margaret, right? It’s lovely to meet both of you. I’m Killian Jones, a childhood friend of hers.”

Emma pushed herself up in bed to rest against the headboard, as she heard Mary Margaret gush, “Oh, Killian! Emma has been so excited about finding you again! I didn’t know she invited you to join us!”

By this time, the three of them had advanced into the room where Emma sat wearing a mischievous grin on her face. “Yeah, I invited him and didn’t tell you, so David would get all big-brotherish and use his ‘do I have to punch you in the face’ voice.” She giggled, before adding, “Killian showed up here to surprise me. I had no idea he was coming!”

David looked abashed. “You could have at least given me a heads-up that he was here.”

“I did,” Emma informed him. “Didn’t you get my text?”

Her brother pulled his phone from his back pocket and checked it. “I didn’t look at the whole message, I just saw the notification where it said you were up in your room. Sorry, Sis.”

“Well, anyway,” Mary Margaret chirped, “We’re very happy to meet you, Killian! Emma has told us all about you. You flew all the way over from England to visit her? That’s so romantic!”

Emma and Killian exchanged a wide-eyed glance. “We’re not…” Emma sputtered, while Killian said, “Oh, no, it’s not like that.”

Mary Margaret looked confused. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed…never mind. It’s still very sweet of you to come all this way to see your friend.”

“Even though she’s an invalid,” David teased.

“Thanks to you!” Emma grumbled. “You and your ‘last one to the bottom of the hill buys dinner tonight’.”

“How are you feeling?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Like a truck hit me. I just took some more pain meds right before you guys got here. I probably should ice it again, though.”

Mary Margaret nodded, then turned to her fiancé. “Could you please go get her some ice, Honey?”

“Let me come with you,” Killian said. “I’d like to know where the ice machine is located in case she needs some during the night.”

David whipped around to look at him, his hands gripping the ice bucket tightly. “Are you telling me you’re planning to stay here? In her room? Just the two of you?”

“Oh, for the love of everything holy,” Emma groaned. “Back off, David! I invited him to stay with me. It’s my room and he’s my friend. Do you think I’m gonna make him go get a hotel room when he flew thousands of miles to see me?”

“But..” David began.

“No buts,” Mary Margaret said firmly. “Go get the ice and take Killian with you.”

David looked between the two women, then huffed and started toward the door, motioning for Killian to follow him.

Once they heard the door close, Emma said, “So, tell me about your day.”

The two of them conversed for several minutes, until they heard the two men re-enter the room, the sound of their laughter preceding them, causing Emma and Mary Margaret to share a knowing smile.

*********

Mary Margaret and David spent the rest of the evening in Emma’s room. Killian helped make her comfortable on the sofa in the living room area of the suite and made sure she iced her injuries at regular intervals. They ordered food to be sent up and played cards until late evening.

By the time the engaged couple left to go to their own room, the men were acting like friends who had known each other for years, instead of hours. Mary Margaret hugged Killian tightly and thanked him for being such a good friend to Emma.

Emma changed into her pajamas and took another dose of Oxycodone, while Killian took a shower. When he was finished in the bathroom, she hobbled in to wash her face and brush her teeth. Going back into the bedroom, she saw he had laid the comforter on the sofa and was taking one of the numerous pillows off of the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting ready to bed down for the night,” he responded, as if it should be obvious.

“You don’t have to sleep there. The bed is plenty big enough for both of us.”

He eyed her with a slightly raised brow. “Are you sure that would be proper?”

“We slept in the same bed when we were kids.”

“True, but we’re not kids anymore.”

She limped over and sat down on the foot of the bed, crossing her arms. “The couch is way too short for you, so it wouldn’t be very comfortable. You won’t get a wink of sleep, and you have to be tired after your flight today. Stop being stubborn.”

He crossed his arms, mirroring her pose, and stared at her. Her eyes never wavered from meeting his intense gaze, and finally he sighed and threw up his hands. “Calling me stubborn is like the pot calling the kettle black. Now I remember why you always got your way when we were kids.” He grabbed the comforter off of the sofa to return it to the bed.

She grinned triumphantly and started scooting back towards the head of the bed. “I’m not stubborn, just determined.”

Killian watched her begin to undo the velcro straps on her knee brace. “Are you supposed to take that off?”

“The doctor said I could take it off to sleep.”

Once she removed it, he took it and laid it on the floor next to the bed. Then he put a pillow under her left leg and pulled the sheet and blanket over her. After making sure she was comfortable, he circled around the bed to the other side. Very gently, he slid under the covers, laying on his back with his arms folded under his head.

She turned her head to look at him. “You don’t have to hang off the edge of the bed, you know.”

“I don’t want to accidentally bump you and cause you pain.”

“I don’t think there’s any danger of that. This is a king size bed; we could fit a small whale between us. Besides, you’re on the opposite side of my sore leg. Just relax and make yourself comfortable, Killian.”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in thought before shifting over slightly. “Happy now?”

She grinned at him. “Ecstatic.”

After returning her smile, he yawned widely, then said, “Goodnight, Emma. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Killian,” she replied, before reaching over to turn off the lamp.

*********

Thank you for reading. I wish all of you a very happy and blessed Christmas!

Tagging: @xsajx @hookedmom @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @wyntereyez @goforlaunchcee @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @oncechicagolove @andiirivera  @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @enchanted-swans @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084  @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @artistic-writer @cocohook38 @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @itsfridaysomewhere @fallingforthecaptain  @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @justanother-unluckysoul @mrs-potato-but-likes-tomato @anothersworld @deckerstarblanche @purplehawkcaptain  @superchocovian @k-leemac @citygirlscowboy @laughterandbooks @sotangledupinit @apiratewhopines @huntressandlioness1 @cosette141  @gingerpolyglot @motherkatereloyshipper @cs-rylie @anmylica @paradiselady19 @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @elfiola @softkilly @nachocheese-itsmycheese @iverna

[driaswrld]

HI DRIA 😊 I just got caught up on all the tsr au fics and was kind of scrolling through the tag to see more (i think your tsr rants are so funny TT) but I was wondering if we will get a snippet of badass mc soon like you were saying?? and does reader actually use a katana?? (sorry if i'm rambling!!) AND if i may (you don't have to answer) who in the trio is most likely to be the first to jump in and defend the others? like who is REALLY about that action??

NONNIE U FLATTER ME 🤭

about tsr mc,,, yes! you will see reader's badass side soon i assure you! (its coming in a fic where reader does indeed smack a bitch i must say)

also yes ! mc does use a katana 😭 i hced that soo long ago bcus i just?? thought it fit?? esp with how i characterize mc atleast. buuut in recent domestic times mc has been less unhinged but trust!! u will see feral unhinged mc!!

(i also want to go in depth ab reader's technique too even tho i sorta hinted at it in the apocalypse extended cut)

who's most likely to : suguru!! definitely he is the first one ready but other times reader beats him to it bcus as i said this is a trio of unhinged ppl (usually satoru looking at someone is enough to have them back off though)

cs lets bfr u saw how sugu was ready to DRAG toji after he started running his mouth ab toru

[dassala]

In Focus

Rated M - Chapter 3/? (Ch. 1, Ch. 2)

Emma Swan’s CEO fiance Graham Humbert has hired a wedding photographer to capture every aspect of the wedding planning process. Killian Jones usually hates these stuck-up, spoiled rich brides he captures on film, but Emma is different.

Disclaimer: This fic contains elements that may be squicky or disturbing to some of the CS audience. I want you to know that both Emma and Killian have sexual relationships with other characters in this fic. They also both get very drunk at different times throughout the story. So if you have an aversion to alcohol abuse (especially as a crutch), and you can’t stand the idea of Emma and Killian being with other people, this may not be the story for you. However, that said, you should know that I never write CS fic without a happy ending. :) So if you can stick it out, I promise satisfaction.

Psst. @awkwardnessandbaseball is an incredible beta! <3 Thank you, babe!

Read it on AO3

Three months into the planning process and Emma Swan was already completely wiped out. She felt overloaded with orders and deliveries and do-it-yourself wedding favors. At this point, she deeply regretted not hiring a wedding planner to do most of the work for her, but she’d considered it a personal challenge. Graham was generally busy with work, so why not throw herself into this particular project?

The week had been taxing, and Emma was not only tired from a combination of work and wedding planning; she was sick. She had wanted to spend some time getting crazy with Ruby to blow off a bit of steam, but the girls’ night out was canceled when Emma’s sniffles and sinus pressure got out of control.

Emma flipped through the offerings on Netflix, clicking past Action/Adventure and Drama, and cruising into the Romance section. On the rare night that Graham was able to sit still for two hours, they leaned toward a Jason Bourne-type flick. Tonight, he was out schmoozing with Japanese clients, and she was relegated to the sofa with a box of tissues and a steaming-hot mug of chicken soup.

As she tapped her way through the romance section, her phone dinged. Emma raised it and opened the video she had been sent.

Killian was singing his heart out on stage. Ruby had keenly placed a few heart-eyes emojis around him in the frame. With a laugh, Emma shook her head and replied with some text and a photo.

Looks like fun. And hearts? Are you telling me this is going past just screwing around? The photo she included was her best attempt at a slightly-less-than-miserable face.

Message from Ruby: He’s an 11 in bed, if you know what I mean. ;) But he seems like something’s holding him back from considering it a relationship. Might be your wedding, but not worried. I’m here to have a good time, and so is he. He’s just fucking gorgeous.

Emma was unable to disagree. She had noticed it the first time she met him. His deep blue eyes were quite alluring. If she hadn’t been an engaged woman...well, she would not have a wedding photographer, so that was just a silly thing to think. She groaned to think about him being good in bed. If he could please Ruby, he could please anyone.  And if she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t been properly pleased in months. The spark had gone out of her love life with Graham. In the past, the fire was hot and it burned quite often. But now there was...nothing. And she was committing herself to a lifetime of nothing.

Enjoy! She sent back to her friend before tossing the phone on the table and cuddling down into the pillows on the sofa.

--

Registry day. Emma was armed with a scanner-gun-thingy and a list of items she wanted from the high-end boutique. Graham was at her side, thumbing texts into his phone and half-heartedly paying attention to her ramblings about china patterns.

“I think the blue on that one clashes with our carpet. I mean, the pattern itself is nice, but the color is all wrong. Why don’t we do like...all white, or something?” Emma turned over a bone china serving platter and examined its size.

“You’re right,” Graham muttered. He tapped a few more words into the phone as Emma went silent and stared across the section. The photographer had just arrived. Killian was hurrying past a stack of over-priced bathroom towels. He smiled at Emma. She felt her stomach do a little flip and swallowed hard, pushing the feelings away.

“Hey, there he is,” Emma grinned.

“Seriously, I’m never taking an Uber again in this city. All Yellow Cabs for me,” Killian chuckled. “Sorry, guys.”

“No, it’s fine. We haven’t really done much,” Graham muttered. He looked up from his phone and finally tucked it into his pocket. “And yeah, I do Yellow. Uber seems...difficult in the city.”

“Indeed,” Killian pulled his camera strap around his neck and lifted it. “Scan away.”

Graham reached for the scanner, taking it out of Emma’s hands. She blinked and watched as he slid around the display, scanning six barcodes without stopping to ask for her opinion.

“Uh,” Emma jumped into his path and held up her hands, “Easy cowboy. Remember, there’s like...stuff we actually need and stuff we don’t. Like those.”

She pointed to a set of fancy, battery-operated, chrome plated salt and pepper shakers that her fiance had just scanned. Graham pursed his lips and looked back at his fiancee.

“What do you mean? I like those.”

“They’re stupid,” Emma sighed. “We have salt and pepper shakers already. They’re very nice.”

“Yeah,” Graham wrinkled his nose, “but I mean the whole point of getting married is so people buy you stuff, right? So why not register for newer, cooler ones?”

Emma’s gaze narrowed and Graham physically stepped backward. “Okay, so not the whole point, but...why not?”

“We don’t need them,” she reiterated, placing her hands on her hips. Killian stood by silently, glancing around the store as if he wasn’t hearing them disagreeing again. “And maybe try asking my opinion before you just...scan everything?”

“Emma,” Graham laughed, “they’re gifts. Just let me scan. Okay? We’ll take back what we don’t want or need. But I want the salt and pepper shakers.”

“Fine. Then I’m getting the all-white China,” Emma conceded, sighing.

Graham halted and cocked his head to the side. “We have dishes. We don’t really need more dishes. They’re good dishes. My Mum sent them from Ireland. Remember? The one broke and we had to get it replaced and it took bloody ages…”

“Let me get this straight, if we have a perfectly good set of something we shouldn’t replace it, unless you want it?” Emma’s eyebrow cocked. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Killian grimace, trying to hide it behind his camera.

“Don’t start,” Graham grumbled and pushed past her. “Just scan things, okay?”

Emma found the scanner shoved back into her hand. Graham meandered away, pulling out his phone once more. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and tried desperately to control her temper, feeling it rising up her body.

“I think they’re stupid, too,” Killian finally chimed in, “for what it’s worth.”

“The plates?”

“Nah, the salt and pepper shakers,” he smirked and snapped a photo of the set. “I’ll file them with ‘ugly things’.”

Emma laughed, shaking her head. He had a way of being able to erase her tension. She nodded and moved to the china set she had been eyeing. With a particular flourish to her movements, she scanned the item, then winked at the photographer. Snap. Brilliant.

--

Another few weeks passed, and Killian spent his time between his place, Ruby’s place, and working a few one-off shoots for publications or private customers. His next appointment for the Humbert wedding was at Graham and Emma’s apartment, where invitations were to be addressed. Graham had assured him it would be just a few photos, and then he could leave, as there was bound to be nothing too exciting about writing addresses.

Finishing off a coffee, Killian knocked firmly on the door to Graham’s apartment. When the door opened, the last thing he expected was exactly what he got.

Emma answered, a glass of wine in one hand. She was in sweats and a baggy t-shirt, and she looked irritated.

“Hey,” she sighed, shifting her weight, “I’m thinking maybe we should do this another time. Graham got called out on a meeting...and...we had kind of a fight about it. I’m not in the best…”

“I can focus on your hands, if you like? And...listen?” Killian shrugged, offering a friendly smile. “Not as your photographer, but...as an open ear? A friend? Or I can bugger off, either way.”

Considering it, Emma gave a nod and stepped back to allow him into the apartment. She closed the door behind him and shuffled to the coffee table, where piles upon piles of laser-cut gold lace invitations were waiting for her.

“I took calligraphy classes to learn this stuff,” Emma said with a bemused laugh. She shook her head, “I mean, I’ve always got time, right?”

Taking a seat across from her, Killian moved the chair slightly closer and put his camera bag aside. “They’re beautiful.”

She nodded and took in a shaky breath. “They never end. The meetings and the calls...It’s like I’m this person with all of these friends and this loving fiance, and...I’m lonely.”

Killian folded his hands and licked his lips before taking a deep breath, himself. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yep,” Emma nodded, finishing off her glass of wine before standing, “talking about it is why my mascara is running and I’m day-drinking. Want some?” She wiggled the empty glass in his direction.

“Not on the clock, thanks,” he adjusted the focus on one of his cameras, snapping off a few photos of the invites themselves.

“I’m your boss. You’re allowed to have a drink if I say so,” Emma insisted. “Or are you a beer kinda guy? Because I’ve got some of that, too.”

With a soft chuckle, Killian nodded. “I’ll have a beer then, thanks.”

Emma returned a few moments later and placed a cold bottle on the table in front of him. Her glass was very full of a deep red wine. She wiggled her fingers before picking up a pen from the table. “So how are things with Ruby?”

Killian stammered slightly and cleared his throat. “I don’t...I don’t think talking about Ruby and I is going to help…”

“I mean, I know most of it,” she laughed bitterly and shook her head, “you guys are fucking like bunnies.”

He paused with his beer halfway to his lips and swallowed hard, then took a swig from the bottle. Clearly, Emma had been drinking for a while. She was right, though. Ruby had an appetite, and she could make him forget about Milah for a few hours at a time. She served a purpose.

“C-can you maybe shift to the left a little?” He put the bottle down and picked up his camera, snapping off a couple of shots of her writing.

“She brags about you,” Emma continued. She glanced up at him. For the first time, he noticed how red and watery her eyes were. She was hurting, and it was bad.

“Emma,” he sighed, putting the camera down. “Stop.”

She paused, then dropped the pen. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands. “I’m losing it.”

He knew better. He knew he shouldn’t be involved in their personal problems. But there was no way this wedding would be a success if Emma fell to pieces. He pulled the camera from around his neck and moved closer to her. “Come here,” he whispered.

Emma leaned sideways. She fell against his chest. Killian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. Right now, she needed a hug, and he was the only person who could offer that to her. “Will it help if I tell you a story?”

With a sniffle, Emma shrugged. So he began.

“Once upon a time, a young lad from England came to the United States to find himself,” he said with a soft smile, “and when he came here, he met a beautiful woman named Milah.”

Emma turned her head to look up at him slightly, her brows furrowed. Apparently, she had not expected to hear about an ex.

“He married Milah. She was fun and exciting and she had all of the joy he knew he needed in life. They moved onto a boat and made a home for themselves. The lad started taking photos of people, and they made a nice life. Milah loved his photos. She also loved his music. They were passionate and crazy and young and stupid but they did it all together,” he said, his voice steady.

Emma relaxed a bit in his arms.

“One day, Milah came home from work. Her body language was...it was all wrong. The lad wondered if maybe he’d done something wrong, as you know, lads do,” he smirked slightly. “But she told him she’d met someone else. And she wanted a divorce.”

This time, Emma sat up and pulled out of his embrace. She gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his.

“So the lad gave her the divorce, and she married...someone else. And now he takes photos of other people when they get married,” he shrugged. “But she still haunts him. Every day.”

“Killian,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I had no idea. How can...how can you take photos of weddings when your own marriage fell apart?”

He chuckled. “It didn’t fall apart. It abruptly exploded. Because there were apparently things we didn’t say to each other.”

She reached up and rubbed at her cheek, pushing away tears. “So the moral of the story is...I need to talk to him or I’m going to lose it all.”

Killian thought for a moment. He licked his lips and drew in a deep breath. “Yes. You need to be clear about what you want, and what you don’t. For us, I wanted kids. Milah did not. She wanted success and she wanted money. A struggling photographer and musician who lives on a boat is hardly a suitable husband for that kind of woman.”

Emma was pensive. She reached over and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Killian paused, then wrapped his arms around her in return. “I think you guys will be okay,” he said, his voice calm. “You’ve been together a long time, and you can work it out. I know it.”

“Thank you,” Emma breathed. She pulled back and smiled. “Ruby’s lucky to have a guy like you.”

He chuckled. “Nah, Graham is the lucky one.”

The lock to the front door beeped and opened. Graham, looking disheveled and a little put out, stepped inside. He paused as he saw Killian.

“Oh shit, I forgot all about the invitation photos,” he muttered, scrubbing his face with his hand.

“No worries, mate,” Killian stuffed his camera into his bag and stood. He gestured to the spot next to Emma. “I got a few shots. I think, um, I think I’m all set.”

Graham offered his hand and forced a smile. Killian shook it firmly. “Thank you, then. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Aye, sounds good,” Killian turned back to Emma and raised an eyebrow. “Have a good night then, Miss Swan.”

He stepped out of the apartment door and closed it behind him. Emma was officially closer to him than Ruby had been in the past few weeks. Ruby was a romp in the sheets. Emma...Emma made his heart flutter and his stomach twist. But she wasn’t his. She couldn’t be his. And he would never do anything to pull her away from Graham. Not ever.

--

“You’ve got yourself in a right state,” Liam Jones smirked and shoved another pint across the bar top. Killian exchanged the full glass with his empty and nodded.

“After Milah, I’d never...ever think about a woman who was married to someone else. But...what if...I think they’re not right for each other?” He drew in a deep breath. “Do I say something?”

“Do you want to get paid?” Liam raised an eyebrow and wiped his hands on a towel. He threw the cloth over his shoulder and leaned forward. The Sailor’s Inn, the bar he owned and operated near the Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge, was dead this time of night.

“Of course,” Killian sighed. “But is it the right thing to do? Get paid and bugger off and leave her to a lifetime of disappointment and misery?”

Liam shook his head, “Remember, you’re only seeing a snippet of their lives together, and it happens to be a pretty busy and stressful time. There has to be a reason she agreed to marry him.”

“They’ve been together for eight years,” Killian muttered into his glass before taking a swig.

Gesturing with wide open hands, Liam shrugged. “Again, gotta be a reason.”

Killian nodded in agreement.

“Tell me about this Ruby girl,” Liam stood and moved to pour himself a beer. He flipped the switch beneath the counter which turned off the neon ‘Open’ sign near the door.

The younger brother Jones pursed his lips. “She’s hot. Insatiable. But...again, not...what I’m looking for. I think I’m gonna put an end to it. Just hope she’s not crazy enough to fuck up the wedding.”

“Want to kick her my number?”

Killian leaned his head to the side and gave Liam a look of annoyance. “You want my seconds? Sure. I thought you were seeing that girl from Jersey City.”

“Nah,” Liam shook his head, “didn’t work out. Besides, you know I’m more into blondes.”

“Then Ruby is not for you,” Killian smirked. “There is a really beautiful blonde bridesmaid, though. Elsa. No ring.”

“Yeah?” The older man grinned and laughed. “Probably not a chance. These are rich girls, eh?”

After Killian’s divorce, Liam had left his home in England and joined his younger brother in the States. Liam was undoubtedly more successful, but he was more of a working-class type of man than most girls wanted. At 35, Liam had all but given up on finding ‘The One’.

“I don’t know, mate. I think I need a change of scenery after I’m done with this gig. Fancy a trip to Boston?” Killian finished off his pint.

“I, uh, I don’t think that’s such a good plan,” Liam spoke slowly. He was obviously searching for a decent explanation, outside of the truth.

Killian’s gaze narrowed. “Why?”

With a heavy sigh, Liam turned to the back of the bar. He grabbed a tabloid and tossed it to land in front of his brother.

The front page of the supermarket rag was plastered with photos of some Kardashian or another. Killian’s brow raised. Liam flipped open to the middle of the magazine, where a blazing red headline and an accompanying photo made his gut clench.

Billionaire Robert Gold Separates from Wife New Ex Milah Jets to Boston

The photo was of Milah, caked in thick makeup, holding her hand up to fight off the oppressive flashes of the paparazzi. She and her husband Robert were not necessarily of the socialite kind, but Milah knew what she was doing when she left Killian. She had married a man of political and social influence for his money. And now, it seemed, they had separated. Killian wondered exactly why.

“I probably shouldn’t have shown you,” Liam said calmly, taking a sip from his beer. “But I didn’t want you to run into her.”

“No, it’s fine,” Killian reassured him. He pushed the magazine away and shook his head. “She’s his problem now, not mine.”

“Atta lad,” Liam poured his brother another pint and an accompanying shot of bourbon. “Let’s get pissed and forget about the women for the night, eh?”

--

He believed the proper nautical term for his condition was ‘Three Sheets to the Wind’. Roger walked alongside him as Killian meandered down the road to the docks, singing loudly to himself. His companion had a strange sense about him, wherein he usually walked on the water’s edge as if to keep Killian from stumbling into the sea.

Killian pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed through his contacts. He paused on the docks. Roger whined and nudged him with his nose. The dog couldn’t possibly be warning him against drunk texting, could he? Nah, he was probably hungry.

Did he apologize?

He clicked send. Only then did he notice that it was 3am.

“Oops,” he muttered, continuing down the docks toward his rinky-dink houseboat.

His phone pinged. Blinking, he paused again and looked at it.

Message from Emma Swan: Yes. I think you helped a lot. We really talked for the first time in a long time. He even avoided answering a call in the middle of our discussion. You might have saved this marriage. Thank you.

Drawing in a deep breath, he paused and leaned against a light pole. Fantastic. He was the ‘troubled couple whisperer’. The phone pinged again.

Message from Emma Swan: Tell Ruby I said hi.

He frowned and thumbed a message back to her.

No Ruby here. Just me and Roger.

No response, so he tucked his phone into his pants and wandered back onto his boat, the ‘Jewel’. Once on board, he kicked off his shoes and fed Roger before collapsing onto the bed. He was going to be so hungover in the morning. It also would be a miracle if the spinning sensations stopped anytime soon. He tried the trick of placing one foot flat on the floor. No dice.

His phone pinged.

Message from Emma Swan: Oops. Um, I guess you’re not exclusive then. She said she had a date.

Killian laughed and shook his head. Not surprising.

I had a date with my brother. And Roger. We drank a lot.

I mean Rog didn’t. But I did. Hence the timing of these texts.

Sorry.

Message from Emma Swan: No worries. I like hearing from you. I think we’ll be good friends, after the wedding’s over.

Friends. He wasn’t sure he could handle being friends with Emma Swan...Emma Humbert. With her sexy smile and incredible ass and the way she had access to incredible finery but loved the simple things in life. Not if she belonged to another man. He wouldn’t tempt fate like that. He would NOT be Robert Gold.

Message from Emma Swan: Anyway. Goodnight.

“Goodnight,” he muttered aloud.

--

Emma felt Graham’s bare chest press against her back. She placed her phone down on the nightstand and sunk back against him. He muttered groggily.

“Who you talkin’ to?”

Emma shook her head. “Wedding plans.”

“At three o’clock in the mornin’?” He placed a kiss between her shoulders. “Relax. It can wait. C’mere.”

She turned to face him and gave him a kiss. It felt...hollow. There was nothing there. No longer did she have a spark when it came to Graham. Even when they did make love that night, it was more...out of obligation than desire. Something was off. Maybe it was the wedding. Maybe it was his constant need to do and be the best, despite what she actually needed. Or maybe…

She drew in a breath. “Sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

But he already was. She received a soft snore in reply.

[seriouslyhooked]

When We Collide (Part 5)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everybody! First and foremost, just want to thank those of you still on this journey with me. My motivation to write has been so much lower than I thought it would be, but I haven’t lost sight of what I want from this fic and I am happy to finally share a new installment. This chapter brings a last burst of road trip fluff and the build up to a big moment  – Emma’s introduction to Killian’s life in the MC. It’s going to be fun to explore these dynamics in the next few chapters, but for now I hope you will enjoy, and I can’t wait to see what you all think. Thanks so much for reading!

In the quiet, tranquil calm of a woodland morning, Killian watched the cabin bedroom fill with sunlight, bringing the softest golden glow to the rustic room where he and Emma had spent the night. Birds chirped to greet the new day’s light, and the gentle breeze among these mountains brushed branches from a nearby oak against the windowpane. The whistle of the wind and the gentle swish of leaves on glass melded together into something deeply familiar, a symphony of sound, the song of sunrise.

Sadly, this song was the last of its kind that Emma and Killian would enjoy on this journey. The final portion of their cross-country trek would come today, and when they arrived back home, a new reality would set in. Things would change drastically, Killian would have to reengage with a life he’d long ago left behind, yet despite the challenges that awaited him, Killian was astounded at the peace he could feel in this moment. Holding Emma as she still lay sleeping, he was filled with contentment, choosing to anchor himself to something that would be forever constant: his love for this incredible woman.

“You’re doing it again,” Emma murmured, stirring from sleep and already entirely aware of him before she’d so much as opened her eyes.

Killian let the sultry sound of her sleep-laced voice wash over him. It sent a similar sensation coursing through him as the soft brush of her fingertips over his chest. Strumming an unknown melody, her hands on his skin lit him up inside, and though he’d just taken her a few hours ago, he was already ready to devour her again. Strewn out like this, in the glow of early morning, Emma was a vision with gold hair and sun kissed skin. She was stunning, and through the grace of God and all good things, she was miraculously his. The thought of that gave him great comfort and his own hold on her tightened ever so slightly. In truth, he was so distracted he nearly forgot to answer her sassy statement, but the smile that appeared at her lips as her green eyes opened for the day demanded that he ask for more.

“Doing what, love?”

“You’re loving me so much that I simply can’t sleep through it.”

Another man would deny such a cheesy proclamation, or deflect from the depth of his feelings, but not Killian. No, his Swan had called him to the floor, and she was right. He was up this morning thinking only of his love for her, and while other thoughts may threaten to encroach on their time together, he had pushed them all aside. She was the best way to stay grounded and centered, and he was selfish, needing to soak up every last drop of their moments together just to keep his peace of mind.

“I’d offer some condolences, Emma, but I think we both know how you feel about my loving you.”

He murmured the words against her skin, taking advantage of her lingering drowsiness to pepper kisses on her lips, her jaw, and then the hollow of her neck. He hummed out a sound of sheer delight when he felt her shiver beneath him, and when she let out that perfect moan of hers, the one that was part gasp and part plea for more, he was lost. All conversation was behind him, and he knew the only thing left was to show her how much he loved her. Luckily for Killian, nothing had ever come so naturally.

The choice he must make this morning was between a fast and hard claiming, or a slow, steady savoring of two souls becoming one. The payoff for either was bound for greatness, but Killian was keenly aware of how everything would soon be different. Once they arrived back with his brothers, the solitude they’d cultivated would be encroached on, and though Killian had his own house, which could provide ample space and privacy, he also had a sneaking suspicion that his brother and fellow club members would be highly invested in him and his woman. After weeks of it being just the two of them, Killian knew he’d have to share Emma’s attentions, and that he too would have to interact with people other than his Swan. It would all be good in the end, but he wanted to make the most of these last truly secluded moments that they had together.

The teasing slowness of his ministrations became a torturous affair not just for Emma, but for him as well. He began by tasting her everywhere, tracing every line and curve of her, with extra attention paid to the places that made her blood sing. He hung on every breath she released, and every charged call of his name that whispered past her lips. When she came apart from his touch alone, his sense of pride surged dramatically, but the most beautiful sight was when she relaxed back into that post-climax moment, gazing at him with love in her eyes and nothing but a soul-deep contentment in her heart. It made a man feel worthy to know he had put that look on his woman’s face, and for Killian it was the closest he would ever feel to absolution. He’d done wrong in this life, made choices that veered well off the path of what was good or moral, but somehow, she still loved him, and Killian was better for that love.

By the time she was ready to be taken, Killian was so riled, his senses were frayed in all directions. Knowing that he was already worked up, Emma decided to push him further, murmuring that she loved him and asking him to make her his. The searing heat of his need for her was constant, but the feeling when he thrust inside and claimed her was the most agonizingly incredible feeling in the world. Nothing should feel this right, or this perfect, but with Emma it always did. Their rhythm was synced to perfection, their love palpable in the air around them, and though Killian did his best to savor every bit of it he could, it always felt like it was over far too soon. All it took was Emma arching her back, crying out in ecstasy, giving over to bliss, and he was right there with her, spent but saved and feeling like despite the uneasiness of this next moment, he and Emma could handle anything.

“Whatever happens today, it won’t change anything,” Emma said, her fingers running through his hair that was growing longer than he normally allowed it. She pushed it out of his face, before looking into his eyes and smiling in a way that melted his heart. “I love you, and I always will.”

“It’s the same for me, love, but rest assured, if you feel even the slightest discomfort, we will move on. We’re bound to nothing but each other.”

“Killian, this is your home -,” she began. He quieted her thought with a kiss before clarifying the truth to her.

“You are my home, Emma. Wherever you wish to be is where we will be, and I will be the happiest man alive just for being by your side.”

Emma readily accepted this promise from him, whispering that she felt the same as they continued to laze for a while more together, enjoying their connection and soaking in this last bit of privacy. Eventually, they had to get up and check out from this retreat, and they moved through the morning with a practiced precision of two people who had done this for weeks. Travelling had become second nature to them both, and the six-hour ride standing between them and his brothers would be easily managed.

For Killian, the journey honestly felt too short, though he made sure to stop and keep a steady pace for Emma’s sake. He knew she had never been to California before, and there was something magical about this place compared with every other. It was easily the most beautiful of the terrain they’d been in for weeks as well, and in Big Sur specifically, there was a natural beauty totally unique to this corner of the world. Giant forests rose impossibly high into the sky, a cross between the woods of the pacific northwest and the jungles of South America. Trees stood so tall the tops could not be seen, and even in patches where fires had blazed in seasons past, life prevailed, with green vegetation growing from ash and soot and dust. When they reached the ocean, Killian felt Emma’s hold on him tighten, an indicator of her excitement, but he still drove quite a few miles down the cliff-lined coastal highway before pulling off to stop.

“Now this is the kind of view I could get used to,” Emma murmured as he helped her off the bike, taking in the secluded patch of beach they’d driven towards where not a soul was nearby. With her hand in his, Killian immediately felt stronger, but the look on Emma’s face prompted a gentle, pleasant aching in his heart. She was happy to be here, in awe of this place, and to Killian that meant everything.

“We’re closing in on our destination now, love. We’ll be back well within the hour if we drive straight through, but there’s something I would very much like to show you, if you’re interested.”

“Lead the way, Captain.”

He led her down the pebbled path to the seaside, torn between watching her reactions and actually navigating their course. The best part of this was that Emma had no idea what was coming. They’d approached from the perfect angle, preserving a truly hidden gem from sight. Only when they rounded the corner would she see it, and as they made their move, he heard her gasp and felt her hand squeeze his tightly.

“Oh my God… I don’t even have words for how beautiful this is.”

Killian completely understood the feeling, though his own sensation of being struck speechless by something truly stunning often came directly from Emma. In this case, the beauty in question was an old, yet faithfully enduring shore house. It was painted white, weathered from storms, but still well-kept and largely preserved against the passage of time. The nearby community saw to it, since the owners of the home had long since gone. This shoreline was all public lands now, but the house remained, a testament to the man who once lived there, a gifted artist, and a natural born storyteller.

The remnants of his decades old art were painted, drawn, and constructed into the very foundation of this home and the mediums of expression were all treasures from the sea. Sea glass especially was plentiful here, drawing dizzying swirls of color along the house, the wood working and more. The glass had been cemented there for decades, but it shone with the same fervor and sparkle as ever. Shells of all shades, some whole and some not, were also used. Iridescent golden hued pieces, hewn from the mix of cold ocean water and warmer kelp garden pools were the stars of the show. They were each a small treasure uniquely found along these rocky coasts, often collected by the sea otters who called this sea shore home. This collection of the rare shells was astounding, and made all the more beautiful by being mixed in with others that were delicate shades of white and ivory and some that were a cooler oyster blue. They hung from wind chimes in the beach trees and off the lanterns, while some darker shells had been ground down to a painted stain that had been used in part to tattoo larger rocks that were too big for the sea to claim. Wherever the eye looked it was drawn to spiraling shapes and stories, never running out of objects to admire.

“How have I never heard of this? And how are we possibly the only ones here?” Emma asked, moving closer and looking at the intricate designs of shells and stones that had been added to the sands and earth more recently. A local commission of artists was in charge of these added displays of beauty, updating them occasionally, but usually waiting for nature to clear the slate. After a big storm where rainwater washed it all away, or higher tides than normal where the sea came just to the house’s front steps, new designs were created and enacted. But it was clear that there had only been sun for some time, and they were fresh on the heels of an exceptionally well-done redesign.

“Very few people know of this place, love. It’s a secret that is guarded by the people of this town so tightly you’ll find no books or blogs or trace of it anywhere. Liam and I are two very rare exceptions, outsiders with the good fortune to know it’s here.”

“How did that happen?” Emma asked, leaning into him and eager for the story from his past.

“My brother and I needed escape when we were here with our father, but we had little means of finding it,” he admitted, bracing himself for talk of that past life, and knowing he should get used to it now that they were nearly home. “The sea was the only thing of comfort for both of us, and we came to it as often as we could. We scoured every last bit of the coast, and I mean every bit. One day we landed here, and happened upon this house as we were searching the coastline for unknown coves. It was easily the best find we ever made. Of course, we nearly scared the life out of the woman who was crafting the shellscape that day, and once she alerted the other town’s people there was a big to do. We were sworn to secrecy and all the like. We never did tell a soul. It remained our secret – one idyllic hideaway from the world we lived in.”

“But now you’ve broken your oath,” Emma said, looking at him curiously, though she was clearly glad for his breach of that old promise.

“Some may believe that.”

“But you don’t?”

“No, love. I believe the promises I have made and will make to you supersede any others. Besides, I am fairly certain that the promise is null when it comes to my wife.”

“Funny, I don’t remember getting married,” Emma said, though her teasing was a front for the rush of emotions she was feeling. “In fact, I don’t even remember you proposing.”

Let’s change that, he thought to himself knowing he had the ring in his pocket right now, but reason won out in the end, and he remembered his plan. He wanted to get Emma totally settled into their new life first, and to make sure she was ready in all ways. He knew she loved him and that she would be his forever, but it was only right to ensure that he do things properly.

“Soon enough, love. You have my word on that.”

Emma grinned at his affirmation, pulling him down by the collar of his leather jacket and kissing him passionately. When they broke apart, she asked him to promise they’d come back here and he did, and after a bit more time in this private oasis, they headed back to the road, driving towards their destination once more.

The ride along the coast was quick, far quicker than he remembered, and when they pulled off the coastal highway and to the discrete exit leading to the town he’d once grown up in, Killian could sense Emma’s surprise. They didn’t need to share a conversation for him to gauge her apprehension and excitement. She was no doubt wondering if they were really going to be living amongst this dense and beautiful forest. It would be a big change from her life in the cities she’d always known.

Soon enough they made it to the town line, reading the hunter green placard that announced their arrival. Unsure of what he expected, Killian was surprised to see just how much improvement had been made in his time away. Their town had always been quaint, but it could easily be described as ‘down on its luck’ when he was a boy. He knew it was his brother’s hope to not only remove the stain of his father’s shady dealings, but to help revitalize this community in a way that had been lacking for decades. But when Killian departed to seek his revenge on Gold, those ideas were mere figments of a would-be dream.

Liam has truly made good, he thought to himself as they cruised down the main street. Here along the town’s center there were new businesses and old ones that had been repaired and shaped for competing in the world today. Things were still classic and beachy, but the energy around it all gave away two important facts: the first was that this town was being tended to and cared for by its tenants, the second was that it was also being protected, and that anything that may threaten this currently peaceful ecosystem would not be allowed.

In this stretch of the ride, Killian could see some familiar faces in the mix, people from his old life in this town who were going about their day to day none the wiser about his return. There were also quite a few new faces as well, but Killian could spot the tourists right away. Their biggest tell was their fixation on his bike. People who lived in this region regularly would be densensitized, and since Liam had imposed a safety parameter for the town from other gangs, they wouldn’t bat an eye, even at a biker without his cut.  

Not far beyond the center of town was the Den, the once large warehouse that had been reconfigured to fit the Land Pirate members and families when need be. When he was here last, the place was little more than a dump, with tell-tale signs of partying strewn about both outside and within. There was also a crappy, rusted gate around the perimeter that did the job of securing the place on some level, but had always been a huge eyesore. Gone was all of that, and in its stead was higher tech, better quality fencing. The Den was now fortified, and Killian could see the precautions put in place that passersby may not realize were installed. He also took note of the probie standing guard at the entrance.

Well this should be interesting, Killian thought as he drove up. He had no idea who this probationary member of the club was. Killian would have to explain who he was and that could get awkward. But before he had the chance the unknown man was speaking.

“Well I’ll be damned. Pres was right. Hook’s come home again.”

“Pres?” Emma whispered and Killian replied quietly.

“That’s Liam’s title here, love.”

“And Hook?”

“My road name.” Emma nodded, taking it all in stride as Killian turned his attention back to the probie. “So, he’s expecting me then?”

“Has been for weeks. You sure took your time getting out here, Hook.”

He looked at the probationary patch on the man’s Land Pirates leather cut and saw the stitched name ‘Mouse.’ Had to be a story behind that name. Didn’t exactly blend with the others who were patched in when Killian was here. “How do you even know who I am?”

“You kidding? You’re a legend, man, and so is she.”

For a minute Killian tensed up, thinking that Mouse was talking about Emma. He was feeling protective, and didn’t like the idea of other men looking her way unless they were going to show the proper respect. Only when Emma let out a laugh did he realize his mistake.

“Oh my God, you mean the bike! That’s classic. Please tell me it has a name.” Emma’s joking was incredibly apparent, and Killian was surprised at how nonplussed she was by their being on unknown turf.

“She,” Mouse stressed and Emma bit back her laugh, but her body still shook with it. “And yeah, bikes get names.”

“Wait don’t tell me. This will be way more fun if I can guess. Hmm, Harley? No that’s kind of obvious. Uh, I mean what do you call a gendered bike? Kind of a tall order… Oh I know, Lady. Kind of on the nose with the whole ‘it’s a she’ thing, but it works, right?”

Killian chuckled at the way Emma was enjoying herself, and he noticed the look of shock on the probie’s face. Clearly he didn’t understand the situation. This was no ordinary woman on the back of his ride giving him shit for having named his bike. This was the most important person in his world, and no one, club member or not, was going to question that.

“Look, kid, my woman and I have been on the road for awhile. We could use the rest, and it’s probably best not to keep my brother waiting anymore.” The overt use of the label for Emma created a total mood shift in Mouse. He had taken the hint.

“Absolutely, Hook. Ma’am.”

The change in tone as he nodded at them and buzzed them through to the compound was pronounced, so much so that Emma mentioned it when they parked and she stepped off the motorcycle.

“Is the somewhat caveman ‘me man, she my woman’ thing baked into this whole MC life?” Emma asked, her brow arched even as a smile teased at her lips. “I’m not complaining, per se. Just curious if I’ll have to announce my belonging to you everywhere I go.”

“Probies are probies for a reason, love, and the reason is they’ve got a whole lot to learn and more than one thing to prove. The men in this club with a patch, my brothers, they know better than to disrespect a woman, Old Lady or not.”

“Ah right, I forgot about that charming title. I don’t know who possibly came up with that one. ‘Old Lady.’ It’s so… unflattering. Had to be a man.”

“In this world, you can blame nearly everything on a man, love,” Killian quipped and Emma grinned at his assessment before continuing to lament the biker term for a man’s significant other.

“I honestly thought I’d have a few years before getting called ‘old lady’ and even then it would be by bratty neighborhood kids, not hot guys in leather who name their motorcycles.” Killian growled at the mention of men being hot and Emma teased him with a nip against his lips that was designed to have him wanting more but was only meant in jest. “But don’t worry, I’ll make up for all of this somehow. I’m gonna find you the perfect partner nickname that undercuts how irresistibly sexy I find you in all your leather. I just need a little time.”

“You can call me any damn thing you want, Emma. As long as you call me yours.”

The words were honest and immediately shifted the sass of Emma’s commentary to something softer. Instinctively, she placed a gentle and loving kiss on his lips before they both turned to the warehouse. Together they walked hand in hand towards the door, and when they entered, Killian held his breath. Would this place look like the nightmare of his youth? The place he’d have fought through anything to get away from? It took only the briefest moment to see those worries were unfounded.

Killian was utterly relieved at how normal the Den looked, and how the relic of old had been completely rehabilitated. The general concept was the same, starting with a vastness in the entrance that made it seem like this place went on forever. The entryway blended into a great room where club members and guests spent a lot of time, and in the back there’d surely be more changes to go along with these ones. Killian knew the kitchen and living quarters, the war room and Liam’s office all would have been revamped if this part of the warehouse was. But this communal space in particular held a lot of painful memories. The ghosts of this place had haunted him for some time, but they were nearly all cast away by the warmth and modern makings of this renovation. It made Killian want to see more, something he never truly believed was possible, but as curious as Killian was, there simply wasn’t time. Soon the renovation was forgotten, and instead he was faced with the all important figure standing there, waiting for him after years of no contact. 

“Liam.” 

…

Post-Note: So I know I have stopped it right at the start of a hugely important reunion, but I fully intend to make up for it in the next chapter. Introducing the actual MC is going to be such fun for me, but, as with this chapter, it may take some time before I have a next installment out. My muse has been tricky, but I am hoping to get a bigger chunk of my story, ‘Feels Like This’ written by the end of the year so I can hopefully finish it up. Anyway, I would love to hear what you all thought of this chapter, and as always, I really appreciate you all reading and thank you so much for the support! Until next time!

[secretcswriter]

Going Home for Christmas

Summary: When Killian Jones’ best friend Emma Nolan asked him to come home with her for Christmas acting as her fiancé, he never could have guessed what it would mean.

Find All Chapters Here

Read on AO3 Here!

/

Chapter Thirteen | Mistletoe Kisses Aren’t a Big Deal

When it’s time for the Christmas ball to end, after what had felt like hours spent swaying and laughing with the princess in his arms, Killian holds Emma’s hand and walks with her toward the steps leading up to the residences. 

But there’s something new hanging from a string just above the steps: a mistletoe. 

He can’t be sure, but he thinks he catches Leo smirking for just a moment before the sly look fades and instead, he shouts, “Mistletoe means you gotta kiss!” 

There are giggles and gasps from the crowd that’s formed of the remaining partygoers. 

Turning to them, Killian gets the distinct feeling that this was done on purpose. Clearly, someone, somewhere, whose name is Prince Leopold, wants them to share a kiss in front of this excited crowd of Misthaven citizens.

Mistletoe kisses aren’t a big deal, right? This won’t cause another rift between them… will it?

“Kiss!” They begin to cheer, a chant that swells so loudly that he’s sure the rest of the country will hear. 

Laughing a little, he turns to his fiancée. She sighs a bit, pressing up onto her toes as his hand fits on the small of her back. They kiss, but it’s barely a kiss. It can’t even compete with their carriage ride peck for the cameras. 

The crowd boos, picking up the chant again. “Kiss! A real one!”

Emma gives Killian a nervous little smile and he becomes determined to give the crowd what they’re looking for, so he wraps his arms around her, sweeping her completely off of her feet, while her hands press firm to his chest and their lips meet. 

The crowd loves it. Cheers erupt. Whistles echo around the atrium. 

His heart begins to pound in earnest as the kiss deepens. Emma’s fingers find his hair as he lowers her feet to the ground, and suddenly, all he wants is to keep kissing her. 

But he pulls away, breathless, and as he stares back at Emma, he finds that she looks up at him with something gentle and realized in her eyes. It fades fast, both of them turning to the crowd to wave goodnight.

They climb the stairs in silence and walk the halls deep, deep in thought. Killian finds himself touching his lips. Kissing Emma like that really makes things complicated.

Their knuckles brush on accident as their hands sway at their sides and he looks at her. 

She blushes, shaking her head. “Sorry.”

“Emma, we just kissed.”

She slows to a stop and faces him. “I know.”

“It’s going to happen a lot more,” he tells her quietly, “at least, it will if we get married.”

She nods. Silently, she moves closer to him, a little wry look in her eyes. “Kissing you isn’t all bad.”

His heart begins to pound faster and he can’t help but smirk. “No?”

Emma shakes her head. Her fingers are on his chest, sliding toward his neck, and he feels himself captured in her orbit, desperate for whatever she has to say. God help him, he’d like to kiss her again.

“I like kissing you.” Killian admits in a whisper. I like you.

She smiles, timid, and laughs under her breath, pushing up on her toes so she can pull his forehead to hers. He settles his hands over her hips and smiles to himself.

Maybe this means something. Maybe this is falling in love. 

Right then and there, Emma brushes her lips against his, and he swears his entire world flips on its head. This is the first time they’ve kissed without an audience and it is heavenly. 

Sighing with pure contentment, he reaches for her face, cupping it in his palm, and she presses him back against a nearby wall. 

“Emma?” a familiar voice prompts Emma away from him, her fingers on her lips as she steps back.

She seems as disoriented as he feels, trying to straighten himself out while Elsa approaches them in the hall. 

“Hey, Elsa,” Emma smiles politely. “Killian and I were headed back for the night. What’s up?”

Elsa looks between them, as if she can sense something off, but keeps it to herself. “I… wanted to let you know that I’m going home tomorrow morning. I wondered if we could maybe chat for a bit before I go.”

Emma’s eyes widen. “Of course. Let’s go to the roof. It’s quieter there.” She turns to Killian and smiles nervously, with a sense of wordlessness that can only come from what just happened. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

He nods, smiling. She wants to talk about it: their kisses. It’s a good sign, right?

“Night, Elsa.” Killian waves to Emma’s friend.

Elsa gives him a polite grin. “Good night, Killian. Thank you for lending me Emma. I hope we’ll get to meet again soon.”

“I have a feeling we will.”

+ + +

Emma sits with Elsa on the rooftop couch, cocoas in hand, while they exchange stories and laughs. For a long time, Elsa was one of the only people who understood Emma. They are both the eldest siblings, both royals in their own rights.

There’s something special about spending time in the company of someone so like minded, someone she trusts deeply, someone that isn’t aware of her secrets, but would undoubtedly keep them if she shared.

“So… you and Killian. I want some details.” Elsa says, reaching for Emma’s arm. Her eagerness to learn more is contagious, her eyes bright with wonder and curiosity. “How are things going? Has he always known about Misthaven and all of this? I got the distinct feeling that he was a little shell shocked on that first day.”

Hesitating, Emma feels guilt tickling her belly. Right about now, all she wants is someone who can coach her through what the hell is going on with Killian. They just kissed for real, and she’s feeling things for him that she isn’t sure she should.

If anyone would be good to talk to about this, it would be Elsa. The woman had been with her through every relationship, ready to be an ear to talk off, to laugh with her in the good moments, and to cry with her in the bad ones.

Emma closes her eyes briefly as she sighs. “Els, I need to tell you something.”

Elsa frowns, worry in her expression. “Oh, no. What is it? Are you two okay?”

“Elsa, we aren’t actually together.”

Her friend’s eyes widen in shock. “You’re not?”

Emma shakes her head. “We’re best friends, and we’ve known each other for five years, but we’re not together and we never dated.” 

With the truth finally out in the open with someone she trusts deeply, Emma allows herself to breathe a little, the emotions she’s been bottling up finally able to spew to the surface.

“I feel absolutely awful, Els.” Emma admits, shaking her head slowly. “It feels like my whole life is completely turning into a lie. And to make matters worse, I think I’m actually falling in love with Killian.”

Elsa’s eyes grow wider. “Oh.” 

Her friend puts her cup down on the table in front of them and grabs Emma’s to do the same. Then, she wraps her arms around Emma, giving her a warm hug.

“Regina told me she’s going to take the throne if I finally officially abdicate,” Emma adds, “so I have to stay. I have to. And Killian wants to marry me just so the people don’t turn on me when I take the crown.”

Elsa squeezes her tighter. “Ohh… Emma…” 

Pulling away, she has a deeply worried knit in her brow. She holds Emma’s shoulders beneath her hands. 

“There’s more. I can tell. What is it?”

“Graham came to visit,” Emma sighs, her eyes watery, “I told him the truth, that Killian and I aren’t together. That we’re kind of engaged, but not really?”

“Tell me you didn’t…”

Feeling somehow worse than before, Emma nods. “We were drinking and we kissed. And Killian saw.” She groans, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t know why I did. I just… felt comfortable for the first time in a while. It almost felt like I was the old me again.”

Elsa sighs. “Kissing Graham has never been good for you. Even when he was the healthiest relationship you could be in.”

“I know…” Emma mutters into her hands. She pulls them away from her face, shoulders falling. “But that isn’t even the worst part. Tonight, I kissed Killian for the first time ever, it was just the two of us alone, and… I’m kind of freaking out.”

Eyes wide, Elsa considers everything for a moment, then takes a deep, steadying breath. “You need to tell Killian how you feel.”

“That’s the thing, though, Elsa. I don’t think he feels the same for me.” Emma shakes her head. “He’s only ever looked at me like a friend. He came here because I begged him. I knew he wouldn’t say no.”

Elsa gives her a weary look. “Emma. The man wants to marry you in order to help you save face. I would think that would be an eyesore of a clue that he loves you.”

Emma groans again. “If you knew him, you’d know that’s just who he is, though. I mean… we’ve been best friends for five years. We know each other so well. I feel like I’d know if he was in love with me. I’ve seen him in love before.”

Her friend hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it hasn’t been love before. Maybe it’s just been... infatuation or lust.”

“Maybe.” Emma sighs. She fidgets with the engagement ring on her finger in silence. The more she thinks about Killian’s relationships, the greater the doubt sitting heavy in her chest feels.

“Emma, do you want Killian to be in love with you?”

Emma blinks at Elsa. Her mouth falls open. “I… haven’t… I mean, I just…” She stops herself. “I don’t even know if I want to be in love with him.”

Elsa gives her a dry look. “Emma.”

“What?”

“Why not?”

Emma balks, shaking her head and lifting her shoulders. “I don’t know!”

Elsa straightens out her posture and takes Emma’s hand, forcing Emma to look at her. “Emma, five years is a long time. If he was going to leave, he’d have gone by now. Are you afraid because you don’t want to hurt him because he’s too special to you?”

A lump forms in Emma’s throat. She feels a hot tear fall down her cheek. She nods. “You know my secrets, Elsa. I’m not good enough for him. I don’t want him to learn that the hard way.”

Her friend’s shoulders fall wearily. “You seem pretty perfect for him from what I’ve seen.”

Emma shakes her head in complete disbelief. “You don’t know us.”

Elsa hums. “Fine. I don’t. But I saw you tonight. Dancing. Laughing together. Kissing beneath the mistletoe.” She gives Emma a small smile. “If you love him the way you showed us tonight, you don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

+ + +

When Emma returns to her bedroom, it is well past any normal bedtime hour. She finds the apartment dark, with the exception of a small lamp in her living room left on so she can see where she’s going. 

In her bed, Killian’s sound asleep, his back to her. He’s snoring just a little.

It’s good, she thinks, that he’s asleep, because she isn’t really ready to talk about what had happened between them, as much as she’d thought she was in the moment. Kissing has never felt so right, but at the same time, so incredibly scary. 

It’s real now. Before, she could pretend it was just best friends making incredibly dumb decisions just to save face, but now… they’ve kissed.

Emma gets ready for bed in her closet and steps into the bathroom, where she discovers a note waiting for her written on a sticky note taped on the mirror. 

Council meeting tomorrow AM. Meet for breakfast at 8. -Mom xoxo

Sighing, Emma grabs her toothbrush to brush her teeth. Council. Tomorrow. Christmas Eve with the council is the last place she wants to be.

Once she finishes in the bathroom, she turns the lamp off in the living room and crawls into bed, careful to not wake her companion. He stirs slightly when she pulls on the sheets, but doesn’t wake up.

Lying on her side away from him, Emma closes her eyes. She thinks about what Elsa had said, that it makes sense that Killian would likely feel the same way she does deep down.

Is she ready to love him? Does she already? Is it too late?

She feels Killian turn over in his sleep. His arm seems drawn to her middle, sparking butterflies within her at the warm and intimate embrace. 

He sighs deeply and he slurs tiredly, “You’re back.”

Emma smiles a little. “Yeah.”

Killian hums. He snuggles closer to her, sleep claiming him again before he can say anything else. She squeezes her eyes closed tighter. 

She feels as if she’s hanging on by a thread by wishing it, but a mantra plays over in her mind: don’t fall in love. Just don’t fall in love.

Emma’s eyes open again. She presses herself onto her back so she can turn and look at Killian in the dark. Her fingers find his fringe, gently brushing it back, and she sighs.

It’s too late, isn’t it? She does love him, in the warmest, sweetest way.

[frauleinsmaria]

Self Promo Sunday: We Can Feel So Far (From So Close) | AO3 and Tumblr (1, 2)

Waiting until your best friend left for a cross country tour was a fine time to realize you're in love with him.

It’s been a while since I posted one of these because I’ve struggled with writing over the past several months, and even being involved in the fandom in general tbh. Usually when this happens, I like to reflect on some of my previous stories just to remind myself that I am capable of making words I’m proud of, and I’ll be back at it at some point, even if it’s not any time soon. This story is special to me because I remember how much fun I had writing it. I loved writing the dynamic of Emma and Killian’s relationship and playing around with the musical aspect and how it brings them closer together. (I even had a special playlist for all the songs mentioned that’s still on my Spotify account!) This story is not without it’s flaws by any means- at the time, I hadn’t yet taken any creative writing courses or looked into finding beta readers, which means there’s bound to be things that could be better. But, regardless, it’s still one I love, and I hope if this post leads you to read it that you enjoy ❤️

[thejollyroger-writer]

Keep Hope at Hand, Chapter Seventeen

a/n:  Oh, hey! I'm back! With another chapter, that contains some emotional trauma and a few cute Swan-Jones family moments, because I'm not completely heartless. Enjoy! As always, thanks for reading -- we're almost to the end, folks!

Summary:  When a curse is going to send the inhabitants of Enchanted Forest, Captain Killian Jones, husband to the Princess, must take their daughter through the wardrobe to save them from the curse and give her the ability to break the curse when the time comes.

From the Beginning: tumblr // ao3

Previous Chapter: tumblr // ao3

This chapter on AO3

The regular crew:  @shireness-says​​@wellhellotragic​​@flyflyangel​​@stahlop​​@superchocovian​​@kingofmyheart14​​@drkeldonmd​​@darkcolinodonorgasm​​@profdanglaisstuff​​@pirateherokillian​​@captainsjedi​​ @let-it-raines​​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @cocohook38​

Emma spends the time Killian sleeps beside her to continue to look over the notes that they have so far about the curse, but there is one piece of information that she keeps coming back to, one that started as a nagging whisper in the back of her mind as she turned back and forth between the sets of pages, but she does not realize that just the thought of it has overtaken her mind until she sees the dark spot on the page in front of he from where a tear has fallen from her nose.

Neal is the Dark One.

Neal is the reason she has spent the past twelve years separated from her love, from her family. The past twelve years living a lie, believing that she was in love with him.

Forced to believe that she was in love with him.

Forced to believe that she was in love with the man who tore her family apart.

But now that she knows better, all she feels is hurt. Pain. Anger.

Because now that she remembers everything, she remembers everything.  She remembers the curse being cast, saying goodbye to Killian as he took their daughter through the wardrobe, and falling in her father’s arms when she tells him the secret she kept from her husband. Remembers the purple smoke billowing around them as her mother found them in Hope’s nursery and joined in their embrace.

She remembers waking up in Storybrooke, beside the man she was led to believe she was in love with for twelve years. The man that she was supposed to believe was the father of the child she was carrying. The man that made her live a lie.

A life that she now realizes was a lie. Every moment spent with Neal, every kiss, every night spent in his bed.

The moments she thought she loved him the most.

A sob tears through her chest, one she wishes she kept inside as soon as it bursts through her lips, because as soon as it's out, Killian stirs beside her.

"Are you okay, darling?" he asks before he even manages to open his eyes.

She opens her mouth to say yes, to tell him to go back to sleep, but another sob slips through the cracks instead. all she can do is shake her head, stretching the aching muscles of her back when she leans over the side of the bed to rest her for head on his chest.

His fingers begin to move softly through her hair, the weight of his hand warm on her back, and when he speaks, his voice is soft, caring — everything that's been missing from her life for the past twelve years, she hates to admit, but realizes it's true. "Emma, my love, my darling, I've got you," he promises, and she is thankful she knows for sure that he's right. "It's going to be okay."

He doesn't pry, doesn't try to get her to talk. Even after the years they've been forced to spend apart, he acts as if he has not spent a day away from her, as if he still has her every movement memorized. As she tries to calm herself, focused on the feel of him under her fingertips, the way he is gently caressing her hair, he continues to mumble encouragement to her, and it only takes a few minutes for Emma to feel calm again, ready to talk to him about her realization.

"He used me," she says finally, her voice much steadier than she figured it would be, though she assumes it has ever thing to do with Killian's calming presence and not her own strength. "Everything he did was a lie, all the time he spent with me, with Henry, it was all... Everything he did to me it was... he was using me. I was just a tool he used in his revenge game."

She turns her head on his chest so she can look up at him, but he stays silent, has nothing to add, and Emma feels his breath get stuck in his chest, right below where she has her ear pressed. "All because of me," he says, though there is barely any sound behind it. 

Suddenly, she feels as it all the air has suddenly left the hospital room. 

As unfair as it all is, though, he’s still right. Everything Neal has done to her since the curse was cast, the nightmare her life has become in the past twelve years, and especially in the past two, was because of his vendetta against Killian, a vendetta that goes back centuries.

“All the shit that’s happened to you since your baby girl and I went through that wardrobe was because of Baelfire's need for revenge against me.”

“Neal is a monster, Killian. Please don’t —"

She lifts her head off his chest, but keeps her arms where they were, the feel of her hands against his chest keeping him from disappearing in his anger, his regret, his inability to know how to comfort his wife for the first time, and in a moment when she desperately needs him; and his hand on her back still somehow calms her, even as her anger turns towards her husband. 

Which is insane. 

"I can't even imagine what you had to go through, love, living with that man, being in love with him, and you had to do it all because of me." 

"Killian, come on," Emma begs, reaching up to press her fingers against his cheek. "You couldn't have known." 

“You're right,” he says, his voice heavy with the anger and the anguish he feels in this moment. “If I would have known, if I could have come sooner… I would do anything for you.”

“I know,” she says, her voice no stronger than before, but she's hoping that the smile she tries her best to flash at him is strong enough to calm him.

“I love you,” she whispers as he pulls her knuckles to his lips. It’s a gesture he’s missed immensely, and he intends to make up all of the times he should have been doing it over the past twelve years.

Though when she says “I love you” in return, threading the fingers of her free hand in the hair along the nape of his neck so she can pull her lips to meet hers, he decides that he needs to make up lost time in that way, as well.

 Things between them aren’t perfect. After twelve years apart, living their lives separated, it’s difficult for them to just go back to where they were before the curse was cast, especially since there has been no sign of Neal since his disappearance following Killian's attack.

Much of their time is spent as a family on the Jolly, Emma telling David and Mary Margaret that she wants Henry and Hope to be able to enjoy the last few weeks of summer before it’s time for them to go back to school.

What she doesn’t tell them is that the open sea is the only place that she can kiss her husband without the prying eyes of the small town, and she really likes kissing her husband.

A week after his release from the hospital, they are standing together on the deck, with Henry and Hope out of the sun in the captain’s quarters below, watching something on her laptop. She is leaning against the helm, looking out over the water, with Killian’s arms wrapped around her waist, his lips trailing across the back of her neck, her shoulders, her back.

“Gods, Emma, I bloody missed you.”

She laughs, a gentle thing that warms his whole body, though when he nips on her earlobe, it turns into a low groan that warms a very specific part of his body, and it’s no help to himself when he tightens his grip around her waist and pulls her tighter against him.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks, crossing her own arms over his so she can thread her fingers through those on his right hand, her other wrapping around his elbow.

“Of course, darling,” he mumbles, gliding his lips across the back of her neck.

“When we weren’t — when you were, you know, over the past twelve years, did you… were there ever… any other…” She finally trails off, and when Killian turns her in his arms so he can look at her, he finds her eyes set on the deck and her bottom lip pulled up between her teeth.

“Emma,” he whispers, placing his index finger under her chin to pull her gaze to meet his. Her green eyes, brightly reflecting the midday sun, are filled with worry, slowly filling with tears, and he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead and each of her cheeks before looking down at her again. “Not a moment of the past twelve years has passed without me missing you. I have never, once, stopped thinking of you, stopped loving you, or stopped being loyal to you.”

It’s not a lie, and Emma can tell this in his eyes. Even if he had not been raising their daughter on his own, he would never have been able to look at, think about, nonetheless touch another woman without the memory of her sitting heavily on his mind.

“Of course,” she says, her voice soft, as if it would break if she tried to speak any louder — and he fears this is exactly the truth. She nods. “Of course, that was a stupid question, I never should have—”

“It wasn’t a stupid question, love,” he says, his voice as gentle as the press of his fingertips against her cheek. “You have every right to know. You’re my wife, my true love, and the only thing I’ve wanted since I walked through that bloody wardrobe was to have you back in my arms.”

Her head drops as her gaze falls to the deck, her forehead pressed against his chin. He does not try to move her, allows her the silence he knows she needs in these moments, and when she speaks again, he can hear the trembling in her voice.

“Even after what I’ve done because of the curse?”

He doesn’t answer at first, pressing his own eyes shut as he struggles to hold himself together, anger and sadness coursing through his veins.

“Because I haven’t been loyal you. I didn’t even have a memory of you to be loyal to in the first place, and I—”

“Emma,” he says finally, and her words stop immediately. “I will tell you this as much as you need to hear it before you believe it, but I don’t care. What you did under the curse was no fault of your own, and should not be something you need to apologize for. You were tricked, forced to believe a lie, and if you think that makes me love you any less, then I will do whatever I need to prove to you otherwise.”

“I want,” she says, then stops, slowly running her tongue over her bottom lip, staring up at him as she wraps her arms around his neck. “I want to stay with you tonight.”

“I thought you were staying with Mary Margaret so they don’t get suspicious.” He’s not sure where the words come from, because he wants nothing more than for her to stay the night, but he does know that they have been trying their best to not make it look like whatever they’re doing is a relationship, for fear that people would just believe that she’s using him as a rebound, as a way to distract herself from what Neal has done.

“I don’t care, Killian. I don’t care.”

“Believe me, love, I don’t care either, but we’re going to need to convince Mary Margaret to keep the children for the night, or else she’ll come to the worst conclusions—”

“The right conclusions.”

“Yes, of course, but she doesn’t have to know that, her or your father.”

Emma laughs, like physically giggles, and Killian feels it light up his whole soul. That might be a bit extreme, he realizes, that doesn't make it any less true.

Being back with Emma, having her in his arms again and able to treat her as his wife once more, is the greatest feeling in the world. Before all this, before the curse and their separation, he knew that loving her was the greatest thing that ever happened to him — but this, their re-connection after so long, has replaced that.

Even more so when the door to the captain's cabin creaks open and their children — bloody hell, their children, he can hardly believe that they're all back together, gathered on the deck of his ship — run up, joining in their embrace.

“When can we eat?” Hope asks, and Emma reaches down to run her fingers through her bright blonde hair.

“Yeah, mom, I’m hungry,” Henry adds, and Killian smiles down at him.

“Yeah, mom,” Killian says, turning to his wife, a smile on his face as he pulls her hips closer to his. “I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

“Daddy, are you making fun of me?” Hope asks, and when Killian turns his smile down to his daughter, Emma can swear that she has never seen him happier in his life.

“Of course not, cygnet, I’m just hungry.”

“Well, as soon as your father gets us back to the coast, then we can go to Mary Margret and David’s for dinner.”

Cheers commence on deck, not just from Henry and hope, but from Killian, as well, and when Emma smiles at all of them, Killian is sure that her smile is brighter than the sun.

After dinner, Killian stands first to help clear off the table, but is stopped by David’s hand on his arm.

“Actually, Jones, if you wouldn’t mind, I could use your help with something in the backyard.”

Emma smiles as she watches them walk away, remembering just how close Killian and her father were in the last years before the curse. With the kids set in front of the TV watching a movie, it just leaves Mary Margaret and Emma in the kitchen, cleaning up the rest of dinner. They're both quiet for a while, and while Emma is just fine with it, she can tell that Mary Margaret has something she wants to say.

She breaks when she catches Emma starting out the window at Killian, watching as he helps David move gardening equipment back into the shed and failing to pay attention to the already-clean plate in her hands.

“Emma, what are you doing?”

“I'm washing dishes,” she answers quickly. She knows it’s not what she means, but she was hoping to avoid questions about anything else, though Mary Margaret disagrees.

“No, no, with Killian. With Neal.”

Emma hands her the plate, refusing to turn towards her and meet her eye. “Neal and I are done. I thought that would be obvious enough after everything that’s happened.”

In the silence, though, Emma decides to turn towards her — towards her mother — but Mary Margaret looks as if she has no idea what Emma is talking about. “You're not going to give him another chance? He is the father of your child, doesn't he deserve at least that?”

Emma almost breaks, wanting to tell her everything, to spill the truth, but she can't. “No, he doesn't still deserve that. He doesn't deserve anything from me.”

“So you're just going to give up on him, move on so quickly to this new man who you've known for just a few weeks.”

She drops the dish sponge into the sink, turning fully towards her mother, though doing nothing to hide the anger on her face. “I wish you would stop talking like you know what's best for me, for my son. There is so much more to this than you know. If I want to leave Neal behind, then that's my decision.”

Suddenly, David's voice comes from beside them, where he's been standing for a few moments after coming back in from the garage. “I never liked him much, anyway.” Emma smiles over at him, leaning so casually back against the door frame.

“David!” Mary Margaret yells.

“Thanks, dad— … vid,” she tries to save it, but it's too late. She hopes that Mary Margaret’s outburst covered her own up, but she’s pretty sure it doesn’t work. Even if neither of them heard it — and by the look on David's face, he heard it — her quickly-changing face gives it away. “I'm, uh, gonna go check on the kids.”

Once she is out of the room, Mary Margaret turns angrily back to David, throwing her dishrag down on the counter. “You could have had my back there.”

“Listen, I've dealt a lot with Neal in the past few weeks, I think I —”

“What does that mean?”

David snaps his mouth shut, exceptionally confused. For a moment, he tries to convince himself that maybe she really doesn’t know about everything that’s happened, but then he remembers that she sat right beside him for some of it. “Mary Margaret, you were there in the diner the other day. You heard how Neal treated her, and then —” but she looks so confused, so terrified, that he can't bring himself to tell her anymore. “Let's just say that after everything he's done in the past few weeks, I don't blame her for not wanting to be with him anymore.”

In this moment, Killian comes back inside, needing to wash the dirt from his hands, and both of them snap their mouths shut, turning to him. Before he even has a moment to get a word in, Mary Margaret starts the interrogation

“What are your intentions with Emma?”

“Mary Margaret!” David yells, his eyes wide as he turns to his wife, but Killian is paying no attention to either of them.

Instead, his eyes are fixed on the window behind them, through which he can see into the back yard, and he watches as Hope holds a ball of light in her hands — magic. His little girl has magic.  

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS23 Fic Update: "Carolina Moon" Chapter Four

I am more than a little embarrassed and sorry about how long it has taken me to update this story. It was never my intention to keep you waiting so long. However, here at long last is an update, and I hope to have another one to you this week yet - and this to be more regular (at least close to weekly) in the future. Thank you THANK YOU to those who have been patient and stayed interested in this story. I hope you will enjoy this new chapter!

Thank you as ever to the @cssns for running such a wonderful event that I have always been thrilled to be part of. And thank you for the gorgeous fic cover art to @eastwesthomeisbest and to @xarandomdreamx for the massively encouraging beta reading and thoughtful comments.

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Four: No Use Running Anymore

Killian Jones felt his own breath rasping frighteningly in his lungs, barely forcing its way raggedly through his chest as he watched Emma shuddering in his loose embrace, her whole body trembling and the gaze in her eyes glassy and faraway. It scared him, the intensity of the power which had taken her over - beyond either of their control - and he wasn’t sure what to do to help her. He could keep her from collapsing to the ground and lying there boneless in the dark, from hitting her head or flailing her arms, but Killian was at a loss as to how he might reach her wherever she had retreated to in her mind.

Finally, drawing in a sharp gasp for oxygen, Emma’s lungs seemed to fill, and she began to breathe more normally, her eyes were on her trembling hands and she edged far enough away that there was some distance between them, as if embarrassed at having leaned on him and letting him witness her what she’d just gone through. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and it  was clear she still felt uncertain and off balance; the weak tremor still running through her limbs as the after effects were visibly obvious. And yet it was the haunted pain clouding her eyes that held him captive, unable to blink, move, or even look away - though he could sense she would like him to do so. Emma might be able to read most of the folks around her and think to hide her own thoughts and feelings, but to him she was an all-too-open book.

At least somewhat assured that she was herself again, well on the way to recovering her breath and her composure, Killian’s mind returned to her staggering revelation without any conscious effort on his part. “Emma… what you said… about Rose’s killer? What did you mean?” he questioned gingerly. His dark brows lowered over his eyes intently, studying her with a concerned but necessary focus. “You said she wasn’t the only one.”

Looking up to meet his searching gaze, Killian could see Emma’s reluctance, and he hated himself for pressing her, even as he knew she needed him to do so. Still, the film of tears he saw in her green eyes and the way one spilled over the lower lid and trailed down her cheek, was almost his undoing; he bit back words rescinding the question with all the force he could muster. This was important, painful or not. Though he knew Emma had to recover, and that she had lived with her abilities - her “sight” - being pushed aside, ignored, belittled, even persecuted, all her life, there was a reason she could see the things she did. Her supernatural knowledge could help as well as hurt. He knew she had used it for just such a purpose in the years she had been gone. He might not have found the right time to tell her yet, but he had followed her successes in Boston, devouring each news story of the “psychic” - he could just see her huff of disbelieving annoyance at the catch-all term too - who could find missing people when all others had lost hope. He had cherished each article of a child found, holding every tidbit of praise for her close to his chest. He didn’t know how things had fallen apart in Boston, or what exactly had brought Emma back to Storybrooke, but he mourned the scars of youth that still lingered in her bearing. A part of him had never stopped hoping she might one day return, but he would never have wished for her to remain so alone and so haunted.

Her trembling fingers caught at his suddenly, as he moved to brush her hair from her flushed cheek, and she held on tight, needing his steadiness like a lifeline in a howling gale. Those wide, emerald orbs were searching his as if not sure what to make of his question. “W-what did you just ask me?” she murmured, voice fragile as a butterfly’s wing on the still night air amidst the crickets chirping and bullfrogs calling from ponds hidden in the trees at their backs.

Was she really so used to being doubted? After so many times she had saved lives, provided answers no one else could, and proven herself over and over, was it still that much of a shock to be taken seriously? Killian was ready to follow her lead, to charge into action at her back, once she had her bearings again and he was sure she would be alright.

“You aren’t going to ask how I know? Where the pictures come from? If - If I’m sure they’re real?”

He shook his head gently, never breaking eye contact with her for a second. This was important, and he needed her to see he meant every word. “Of course not, Lass,” he finally answered, words calm but sure. “I’ve known you all my life and have never known you to lie - or to be wrong in the visions you’ve seen… no matter how they might hurt.”

Looking down at their joined hands, their fingers now intertwined as he held onto her just as tightly. “No questions asked?” she mumbled dazedly, as though encouraging herself to take him at his word. “Really? Just like that?” And when she raised her face to meet his eyes again, there were still the shining tracks of tears on her cheeks, but they were no longer falling; she had blinked them away and a look of willful determination was taking over her features. “Why?” was all she whispered then, staring at him so open and raw it seemed as if she wanted to drink in his every word. “Why would you do that?”

Killian brought their joined hands up to his lips, bowing his dark head slightly over them as he hardly dared breathe, pausing to make sure she wouldn’t pull away before pressing the softest pursing of his lips to her knuckles and holding them there, breathing warmth against her skin. “Because, Emma, as I said… I know you. Love and trust, even basic kindness, have been all too rare in your life. People have always treated you a certain way - the wrong way - doubting you, hurting you, using you until they don’t need you anymore, and then throwing you away.” He wet his lips, trying to gather his nerve and praying he wasn’t about to say more than he should - or that he hadn’t done so already - then plunged on. “I aim to be different. I’m right here with you for the long haul, if you’ll have me.”

For a moment, Emma seemed frozen, stunned beyond response, but she finally shook her head wonderingly and offered him a tremulous smile, still clutching his hand but moving to stand, which he did as well, then helped her up beside him. “How did you…?” she finally asked breathily.

A crooked smile pulled at one corner of his mouth as Killian sighed, gingerly moving to tuck her hand in the crook of his elbow and guide her back toward his truck, still idling on the rough shoulder of the quiet country road. “I know that lost look in your eyes all too well,” he explained as best he could while he helped her with the high step up into the cab. “Our circumstances may be different, but the feeling is the same. We’ve both been lost for too long.”

He closed the door with those words, but Emma caught at his sleeve through the open window, keeping him in place before he could round the front of the vehicle. “Thank you,” she whispered - only two small words, but full of meaning. She would take the support, the belief in her, he was offering. She had been fully prepared for him to back away, to be too discomforted by what the visions did to her for him to stick around. She’d experienced more people like that in her life than she could count or even remember. But instead, Killian had witnessed the flashes of horror and darkness sweep over her, seen how much it took out of her and he was still standing right there looking at her the same way he always had. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Rose had been the only person who truly seemed able to understand the magnitude of her gift and curse and was always there trying to help in any way she could. It made a poetic sort of sense that her brother might do the same.

“We have to look into this, Killian. If Rose w- wasn’t the only one…” she stumbled at the thought of her friend’s pale, bruise-mottled limbs against the muddy ground that morning so long ago, swallowing down the nausea in heaving gulps. “If her killer’s kept on all this time… I should have known. I should have done something…”

Tremors seized her once again until Killian pulled her into his chest, holding her tight until she steadied, and then pulling back just enough to firmly cradle her cheeks in both hands, pulling her focus back before she could sink into the void grappling to pull her under. “Hey, no, none of that,” he coaxed firmly, holding her steady until she nodded her assent. His own heart was beating against the confines of his chest, but he would calm it later; Emma needed his certainty. “We’ll figure it out, Swan. I promise you that. If you’ve seen there are others we need to find, Love, then that is exactly what we’ll do.”

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Early evening dusk had come to rest lightly on the rumpled covers, smushed pillows, and his clothes tossed haphazardly all around the room when Dr. Graham Hunter blinked back into awareness near the dinner hour. Groggily, he berated himself for dozing off so early while attempting to piece together why he had stripped stark naked and went to bed before even having any supper. Then, his brain caught up with him, and he sighed, Ruby’s arrival in his office downstairs, her seduction and his weakness in falling for it once again, all coming back to him in a rush. He scrubbed a tired hand down his face and felt the weight of realization pressing heavily on his shoulders - even before he turned to look at the pillow beside him and his hand reached out for her to find empty space.

He was a fool. When it came to Ruby, he always had been, Graham admitted to himself as he rolled over with a frustrated curse, allowing himself a whiff of her decadent camelia perfume and honeyed musk on the pillow before flinging it away with a growl. How he fell into this pattern with her - crawling to her on his knees when she crooked her finger or batted an eye his way, and then waking up alone and picking up the pieces of his shattered dignity when she vanished (and she always did) - he wasn’t quite sure. He had fallen for it years ago, and yet somehow, despite knowing better, he was still such a lovesick pup over her that he settled for the scraps she offered him every time.

A noise downstairs caught his attention suddenly, breaking into the well-known litany of shame and self-recrimination. Maybe her trying to slip out unnoticed had been what woke him from his doze. Without pausing to think or second guess, Graham vaulted out of bed, pulled on the track pants he’d draped over the chair in the corner after his morning run, and pounded down the stairs, intending to catch Ruby before she made her quick exit. Fueled by angry hurt and adrenaline, he could only think she wasn’t going to get off quite so easily this time.

He caught her with her fingers grasping the door handle, her wicked heels held tightly in her other hand; her intentions blatantly clear. At his strangled call of her name - sounding a far sight more desperate than he’d meant for it to - she whipped around with a guilty, wide-eyed look painted across her face as she stared back at him over her shoulder. Neither of them moved or spoke for several long moments; Graham because he was practically vibrating with desperation, hurt, and anger in equal measure, Ruby seemingly waiting to see what he would do.

‘Or figuring out if she could sweet talk her way back into his good graces,’ his more realistic inner voice chided. ‘Had he still not learned how ridiculous he was to hope for anything else from her?’ Trying to steel his heart against the natural inclination to charm and cajole her back upstairs, to try to get her to stay while he made supper and to spend the evening together - just spend time with him out of bed, actually allow him to get to know her, or even show that she could want something more from him than the occasional physical thrill he could provide.

Before he could find a way to put any of this into words, Ruby tilted her head slightly, a guarded and slightly embarrassed half smile pressing a sweet little dimple into her cheek as she prepared to wheedle her way out of the awkward spot, just as he had predicted.

“Hey there, Handsome,” she crooned, the smile growing when he didn’t interrupt, clearly gaining confidence in her comfortable and familiar ploy. She let her graceful fingers release the door, her hand falling back to her side as she took a step closer to him. “Sorry if I woke you. I wanted to let you rest, even though I got a call and had to head out. No reason you shouldn’t be able to enjoy a break. You work hard enough, you’ve definitely earned it.”

Damn her for knowing exactly what she was doing to him! Graham swallowed hard as Ruby stood before him coyly biting her lower lip and staring up at him through her lashes innocently. One brightly lacquered red nail traced up along his bare chest between his pecs, and he struggled not to flinch, not to let the way his body immediately reacted to her touch be known.

But, of course, she did know what a word, a look, the slightest caress of hers could do to him. He had allowed her to play him like a fiddle too many times before for her to be convinced now by feigned indifference. Graham clenched his fists, closing his eyes for a moment and praying for strength, before catching her wrist and removing her hand from his chest, holding her gaze determinedly as a muscle in his jaw flexed with his aggravation and the amount of restraint it took not to pull her into his arms and give into her playful touch, pretend to buy the poor excuses and give into her charms. He didn’t want to force the coming confrontation; he knew it was going to hurt and likely wouldn’t end in any way he would hope for. Yet, he couldn’t go on blindly like this either - not anymore. He could only hope, deep down somewhere, as he barely allowed himself to wish in his quietest, most raw moments, that she needed more too, that she did care for him more than she wanted to admit. Maybe - just maybe - if he forced her into honesty, she might grasp it and open herself up rather than let him go.

“Please,” he managed to choke out, his voice rasping, but steadier than he had feared it might sound. “Just stop with the excuses,” he pressed on, hating the way her eyes clouded with hurt, those ridiculously big, liquid brown eyes he usually couldn’t deny a thing. “We both know there was no phone call. You just wanted to get out of here before I woke up and tried to get you to stay, to really be here with me longer than it takes for a romp and to scratch your itch. I’ve done a poor job of showing it,” he hurried on, seeing she was about to interrupt, “but I’m not a puppy to trail along behind you and be at your beck and call. You know how I feel about you, Ruby; I’ve been more than half in love with you since we were about ten years old. But I can’t live on scraps anymore. No matter how much…” The words back up and he shook his head angrily, turning his face from her when she reached out to him again.

He’d heard her gasp sharply at his declaration, but she too was shaking her head, a lone tear running down her cheek. There had never really been much hope left within him that she could give him what he needed; she wasn’t ready, or wouldn’t allow herself. The expression on her face and the tension in her long, lean frame - poised to run - told him all he needed to know.

Finally, his eyes dropped to the floor, no longer even wanting to look at her and think of all they could be together, and what he would never have. With a final exhalation of defeated breath, he gave her his terms. “Don’t sneak in here like this anymore, knowing how I feel about you, when you plan to sneak back out again with the sunrise and not give me anything of yourself in return. I can’t do it anymore.”

Ruby’s breath caught on a ragged inhale, as if she were gathering herself to argue with him and then the words fled her in the face of his honesty. He knew if he met her gaze it would be glossed  over with unshed tears, panic covering her features at losing the passion and connection they had always shared, but unable to expose her true self - her psyche, her heart, her soul - to keep him. He forced himself to hold his resolve; if he allowed her pain to catch at him, he knew he would have to comfort her. It was who he was, and where his weakness had always been when it came to Ruby Jones.

“Graham…” she finally whispered shakily, her voice a wavering breath not much like the silken purr she usually employed. “I can’t - you don’t understand - “

But he cut her off, gently taking a step back, a safer distance away from her before he crumbled and gathered her up in his arms. “I understand more than you think, Ru. You’re not the careless, untouchable vixen you try to play. There’s more to you, more than anyone else has bothered to see, more than you let show. I want that for you… and for us. And I can’t keep tearing myself apart hoping while nothing ever changes.”

Her shoulders slumped as she saw that his mind was made up, and she blinked moisture from her lashes quickly, biting her lip in determination that she wouldn’t be hurt enough to cry. “You’ll regret this, Graham. You know that, right? Can’t the fact that you are special to me, that I always come back to you, be enough?”

“Not this time, Ruby,” he murmured, sorry already, even as he spoke, but still adamant that he deserved more than the dregs of her attention, even if that meant she left his arms forever.

“You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Hunter,” she commented sadly, one last plaintive attempt at banter with a half-hearted smile that died before the upward curve of her lips was completed. “Ever think maybe you’re asking too much of me?”

But he shook his head slowly, studying her intently now - in a way that didn’t allow her to avoid him. “No, I don’t.” He spoke softly, deliberately, intoning the words that he genuinely believed. “For far too long, I haven’t asked enough. There is so much more within you, Ruby Jones. A capacity for love and greatness that you refuse to let yourself experience. I know that… whether you can see it yet or not.”

She shook her head regretfully, mouth twisted in a sort of grimace. “Then you may need to have your head examined,” she retorted, her hand on the door again.

With her almost gone, and not knowing when he would see her again, or be able to speak with her or touch her, or smell the sweetly ripe and enticing scent of the shampoo she used on that silky mahogany curtain of hair, Graham panicked a bit and recklessly reached out, clutching her upper arms and pulling her just close enough to press his lips to her forehead and breathe her in once more, knowing it might have to hold him indefinitely. He almost took it all back, but clung to his pride by the very tips of his fingers.

“You know, I’ll be here… right?” he murmured, breath hot across the skin of her brow. “If you ever decide you want to make a real go of this…”

Ruby had her pride too though, and that wildness and fear which twined together to keep her running and at enough of a distance from everyone that she had convinced herself she couldn’t be hurt. Tall and as elegant as a statue, that poise trained into her since she could walk, she let out a watery chuckle. “You had your chance,” she warned, trying for offhanded nonchalance. Though it fell far short of her mark, she didn’t back down. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.” She pushed the door open and slipped out of the clinic as quickly and quietly as she had appeared hours before.

Sadly, Graham sighed as he raked his hand through his disheveled curls before bowing his head in defeat. It hadn’t seemed that he had another choice, and yet in the moment he felt as though he had just made the worst possible mistake… and lost something he might never get back.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Once she’d left Graham’s clinic, Ruby found herself wandering aimlessly. Of course she’d returned to her snazzy little car and rummaged around in the duffle she’d stashed in the back for a more normal and less blatantly seductive outfit. She didn’t have any trouble wriggling into it in the backseat undetected. It was a slow, sleepy, late afternoon in a small town, creeping toward dusk, and there was no one in sight. However, by the time she had finished and settled herself back in the driver’s seat, Ruby was sniffing back tears and angrily wiping the silent tracks of those which had already escaped down her face. ‘Why did he have to ruin everything?’ ran on a fuming, repetitive loop in her head, crying out against her desire to shrug it off as if it didn’t matter that much anyway. They’d had some good times, and he was a catch, sure, but Graham Hunter wasn’t irreplaceable she tried to convince herself.  ‘He wasn’t happy with her in his bed? Fine. He’d be sorry once he’d been without for a little while.’

The rant she was trying to build up in her head sounded good, but she couldn’t put any feeling behind it - not really. She wasn’t even fooling herself. Graham was different from the other men she had charmed, toyed with, and strung along for a time. He always had been. She simply hadn’t wanted to admit that truth, and now it was boring its way into the center of her chest with all the strength of a drill bit. ‘How in hell had that happened?’ She’d sworn she wouldn’t give a real damn about anyone - not since even her own parents couldn’t be bothered to save a care for her. ‘How did he sneak through the cracks?’

‘Because he does care about you,’ a chiding but concerned voice that sounded a lot like how she remembered Rose’s whispered in her mind. He was there before you tried to lock everyone out, it added, and she shook her head, trying to scatter the unwanted reminders. With a growl of frustration, she swung back out of the little two-seater, noticing vaguely that though Storybrooke did not look very lively there were several small shops heading back toward the town square that had not yet closed for the day. ‘A distraction,’ she decided firmly, with a sharp dip of her chin and squared shoulders. ‘Take my mind off it for a minute, and before long, he’ll be in my rearview.’ The self-comfort rang a bit hollow, but she was already loping down the sidewalk with purpose, looking for something to catch her fancy.

The Sweet Shoppe on the corner had their door open, allowing a decadent and enticing scent of buttery pastry to drift out to passersby. Ruby grinned, cheered at least a little by the prospect of flaky layers of cinnamon sugar, crackly baked dough and butter in one of their famous pinwheels. One of those treats certainly wouldn’t right all that had gone wrong since she’d woken in Graham’s second story apartment an hour ago, but it surely couldn’t hurt, and she was grinning in spite of the hollow ache which had settled beneath her breastbone by the time she opened the door and entered the shop to the sound of the little bell above it chiming merrily.

Sure enough, she did feel rejuvenated after biting into the freshly-made and still warm delicacy. By the time she stepped back out of the bakery onto the sidewalk - one pinwheel happily devoured after practically melting in her mouth, and another bagged up for later in her hand - things didn’t look quite so bleak.

As Ruby headed on down the sidewalk, slowly starting to convince herself - for the time being at least - that she was recovering her equilibrium, she found herself reaching Emma Swan’s new store front, the displays in her window truly beginning to look much like a big city gallery and the potted flowers out front on the walk looking nearly ready for the upcoming grand opening. Some old, deep-seated pettiness stirred at first, as her dark eyes took in the signs of Emma’s determination not to quit - every bit as stubborn as any of the Joneses, too much so to back down, no matter who tried to keep her away.

But the longer she stood there on the pavement hopefully out of sight of anyone who might be inside since she was standing there gawking like she’d been frozen in place, Ruby couldn’t muster up the indignation and hateful bitterness she’d harbored before. Much as she had been hopeful to at last please her mother with her compliant agreement, or continue to feel hurt and jealous over the kinship Emma Swan had shared with her lost twin, the anger just wouldn’t come. In hindsight, with the light of day and the wisdom of years in between, she knew that Rose’s murder, the horror of that nightmarish day lost in the muggy, strangling soup of that long, horrible summer had not been Emma’s fault. In many ways, Emma had been another victim; one who kept being punished instead of laid to rest.

Despite the messes she had already made that day, Ruby determined that she was going to stop following the chosen family line. She would never earn Cora Jones’ elusive approval anyway, so why should she continue making herself and others miserable in pursuit of it? She had just reached out to try the door, just in case Emma was there, when the woman herself pulled into a parking space and exited the ancient VW that Ruby actually remembered her leaving town in years ago.

“Ruby Jones?” Emma questioned, her brow knit in concern as she moved to stand beside her on the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?”

Ruby shrugged a bit sheepishly, with what she hoped was a convincing smile. She wasn’t about to admit all that she’d just been thinking, and so she was at a loss for how to explain her presence. 

“You can’t think I’m crazy enough to leave the place unlocked, surely?” Emma queried, moving the bag she carried to the opposite arm and fishing a ring of keys from the bag at her side. “Not with how many people hate me setting up shop here. Speaking of, wouldn’t egging the place be a little simpler than trying to break in?”

She quirked a challenging brow at Ruby, but also waited patiently for an answer, standing in the opened doorway as the warm air drifted through around them. And Ruby had to give her that one; she had never dropped even a single hint that she would simply pay Emma a friendly visit.

Finally relocating her usual sass, she winked, slipping in the door on Emma’s heels before the other woman could change her mind. “Nah, that’s for the riff raff. I can do better than egging if I really want to make my point.”

“I bet you can,” Emma drawled, looking bemused by the whole situation.

Rather than saying anything else for a moment, Ruby roamed around the small but beautifully arranged space, taking in all that Emma had done to make the building her own and have it looking its best. She couldn’t help being drawn in by the photographs themselves as well. While she might have been too hardheaded to acknowledge it before, her eyes were open now to recognize that Emma Swan truly had a gift - one for capturing her subjects in a way Ruby had never seen the like of before.

Emma, meanwhile, had moved to the counter to deposit her things and turned to watch Ruby Jones with genuine curiosity. Not speaking, she merely observed, wondering what had changed to bring a self-appointed enemy to her doorstep, seemingly anxious to play nice. Someone could have knocked her over with a feather, as the old saying went, when Ruby suddenly turned with a broad smile from where she’d stopped to study a huge canvas bearing a close-up of a single, stunning, blood-red azalea blossom as its focal point. Some sort of mischievous glint was in her eye that Emma didn’t fully understand until she asked, “Any chance you’d sell this one to me before your official opening? It’s just the thing my mother ought to have for her birthday.”

Too startled to catch the surprised snort of laughter that escaped at Ruby’s words, Emma slapped a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in shock. The brunette vixen she had always somehow felt was looking down her nose at her, looked genuinely pleased with her reaction, her pearly white smile broadening even more to look sharp and dangerous as well as alluring.

When she thought herself capable of calm speech instead of disbelieving laughter, she met Ruby’s eye and replied, “Oh, that can certainly be arranged, especially for such an illustrious recipient as your mother.” Emma was capable of her own sweet as pie with steel beneath expression, and she employed it now with a stealthy smirk of her own that made Ruby’s eyes widen in their turn. “Of course, I might have to charge you extra for not letting me be there to see her face when you gift her with one of my photos.”

The deal was struck, and somehow the unexpected exchange between them was healing. Nothing more needed to be said, but the years of avoiding one another, skirting painful history and old grudges, were past, and a weight fell from both their shoulders. They were two completely different people, with very different experiences and unique wounds to bear, but the one person they both had in common, and the fierce, proprietary love each had held for her - which had always stood between them - had brought them together at last. Just as Rose had always wished. As they laughed at their own impudence, and the vision of Cora’s affronted face when she realized the full import of the present, Emma gift wrapped the large frame, and Ruby gladly paid her for her first sale. Emma could almost feel her old friend’s presence over her shoulder and the echo of Rose’s sweet voice cheering her on.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

He’d nearly gotten caught that morning, lingered almost too long as the dawn’s first rays spread across the sky, bringing light and warmth to the the early gray and beginning to dry the dew on the grass. ‘Should have remembered the little hellcat can’t sleep through the night! Never has been able to!’ he cursed to himself as he awkwardly lunged into the deep underbrush a few feet from the porch. He felt damned lucky she’d chosen to come back to the little cabin of horrors so close to the woods, and so secluded from any neighbors… That could have been a fine end to things before they could really get going - and he’d bided his time far too long already, been more patient than a man should rightly have to bear - to get caught with his hand in his pants on her front porch and blow everything he’d worked for. She’d go running then - just like she’d done before.

Emma Swan would not escape him a second time. Just as they had been all those years ago, all the points were aligned, but now he was ready and prepared - he wouldn’t allow her to slip from his trap. Still, he needed to be careful… couldn’t afford any mistakes.

Dark, hungry eyes watched from the safety of the trees as the screen door flew open and his quarry dashed across the porch, down the rickety steps and into her car. He drank in her curves like a wino would savor the first sip from a hard-won bottle. Hard again, he gritted his teeth before succumbing to the empty pleasure of his own hand. ‘Not much longer,’ the mantra repeated in his head. ‘Not much longer, and she will be mine.’ 

It was almost too easy; she had stepped into his web better than he could have planned, more naturally than he had dared to hope. It wouldn’t pay to get overconfident, but he could feel everything falling into place.

Oh, he could bide his time a little longer - after all, he’d waited this long - but soon she would be within his grasp. Just the two of them, and no one near enough to interrupt, or be any the wiser. She wouldn’t be able to run from him then.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @cssns @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @sotangledupinit @winterbaby89 @bluewildcatfanatic @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @anmylica @stahlop @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @wefoundloveunderthelight @belovedcreation @scientificapricot @kday426 @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @ineffablecolors @blowmiakisscolin @elfiola

[princess-and-the-swan]

MC Fic Rec: Until We Meet Again

By @searchingwardrobes | Rating: M

As a joke, Liam Jones pays a gypsy to show 15 year old Killian his true love in her magic mirror. When Killian looks in the mirror, he falls through realms and time until coming face to face with a 15 year old Emma Swan. Because I'm obsessed with younger versions of Killian meeting younger versions of Emma. Complete This is one of my favorite CS fanfictions and one that is so nostalgic for me since I credit this fic with getting me into the world of CS fanfics and I don't see this fic getting recommended enough. There's just something about these lieutenant duckling fics that I'm an absolute sucker for! This fic is a mix of an enchanted forest au and a modern au, but since it mostly takes place in the land with no magic, I classify it as the latter.

Read it on AO3

[hookslovelyswan]

Fic Update: When Doves Cry, Chapter 17

Chapter 17 of my fic, When Doves Cry is now available on FF.net and AO3. 

If you unfamiliar with this fic, and you need to start at the beginning (or just need a re-read to refresh), you can start here or here, respectively.

Summary: She loved him as an adolescent, he admired her from afar; each thought their difference in station an insurmountable obstacle. Years later, Princess Emma and Lt. Killian Jones enter into a marriage of convenience, having long ago given up on obtaining the other's love. Can they overcome tragedy and re-discover each other again? 

Rating: M for sex, mature themes, triggers.

Edited because I was so nervous-sick about posting that forgot to tag the usual suspects, originally: @klar425, @strawwolf, @nummygraphics, @walkerfairytales, @iamanneenigma

[everlastingcaptainswan]

A Pinch of Magic, A Twist of Fate, and A Full Moon (4/?) Witch/Werewolf AU

Summary:  It has long been told that Emma would be the Savior to save the witches from Rumplestiltskin, the infamous witch hunter. In an unsuspected attack Rumplestiltskin catches Emma off guard and an unknown ally saves her from a certain death and suddenly she feels obligated to do the same for the stranger.

Ao3        FF 

This is my contribution to the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! @cssns @kmomof4

The lovely artwork is thanks to @shady-swan-jones

Chapter 4: Plans and Assets 

Supper is a loud, noisy meal simply because of the number of people at the dining room table. Elsa engages herself in a conversation with Ruby and Anna in an attempt to avoid Liam. Robin keeps shooting Regina longing looks when he thinks no one is watching him. Killian unabashedly keeps glancing at Emma whenever she isn’t glancing at him. Roland and Henry are getting along well, talking too loud then what is appropriate, but no one feels the need to quiet them. Snow and David are quietly talking amongst themselves.

The sun goes down and the children start to get sleepy with Roland almost falling asleep at the table. Emma shares a look with Robin, who scoops Roland into his arms. Emma gets Henry’s attention.

“Come on, kid. It’s past your bedtime,” Emma tells him.

“Five more minutes,” Henry attempts to say through a yawn.

“I don’t think so, you can barely keep your eyes open. Let’s go,” she orders him. Despite his grumbles he follows his mother out of the dining room. Emma helps him get ready for bed and seeing how well the boys get along, Robin and her decide they should share a room. Once the boys are tucked in they leave them to join the others in the meeting.

“With the prophecy and all do you guys have a plan?” Liam asks when all of them have a seat at the table.

“Not exact details, but we need to corner him and disable him. We haven’t made any moves because the first part of the prophecy only came to pass a month ago,” David tells them. The pack waits patiently for someone to explain.

“The prophecy stated I wouldn’t defeat the dark one until I was twenty-eight, which I turned a month ago. We’ve been planning for sometime now. We have squid ink to immobilize him and then I come in to end him. What we lack is ever knowing where he is or having a sufficient enough distraction,” Emma tells them.

“We could set a trap and lure him out,” Robin suggests, looking around the table.

“We decided against that because we want to catch him unaware,” Regina says.

“If you set up a trap you can control the situation. He seems blood thirsty enough to be fooled into any trap you set,” Killian tells them.

“What did you have in mind exactly?” Snow asks him, pointedly.

“It would be helpful to know all of your abilities exactly. In order to know what kind of trap we can set,” Killian says looking at each of them.

“I’ll start, I’m an empath, I can sense someone’s emotions. I can’t imagine I’ll be much use to you,” Anna shrugs.

“Not so sure about that, can you control emotions of a person?” Liam asks.

“Well yes I can do that. Although it is frowned upon to do so,” she nods. Liam nods exchanging a look with Killian.

“It’s easier to show you what I can do,” Elsa says. She simply raises her hand and faces her palm toward the ceiling, snowflakes start falling from it. When the pack doesn’t look impressed Elsa creates a shard of ice and throws it just to the left of Liam’s head straight into the wall. Ruby laughs at Liam’s shocked expression.

“Oh yeah, we can use that,” Ruby chuckles. Regina creates a fireball and Robin’s eyes widen.

“I won’t throw this it will be a little too destructive,” Regina says with a smirk, “Emma and I can also transport ourselves from one location to the next.”

“Interesting and we can definitely use that,” Killian says. Snow sweeps her hand from left to right, brings forth a wine bottle and enough glasses for them.

“I have healing abilities as well. Should this turn ugly as we think it will,” Snow says, using her abilities to pour them all a glass of wine.

“I have a natural ability with animals, it’s how we’ve been so lucky with getting food even in the dead of winter. Other than that I’m rather good at hand to hand combat,” David tells the group. The pack nods. Emma emits some of her white light.

“Looks pretty, but it can hurt when I want it to,” Emma says, the light dissipating.

“You know what to do when you confront him?” Liam asks her.

“I know exactly what to do. Don’t worry about me,” she tells them. A somber tone falls over the room. Killian’s gaze is glued to Emma. He knows she’s holding something back, but doesn’t know what it is. Regina looks to Liam.

“You know what we can do now, so what’s your plan?” she asks him.  

“We’ll need to scout an ideal location, somewhere away from any unsuspecting people,” Liam answers her.

“We still need a good distraction, something to draw him out,” Ruby comments.

“I think that should be something to ponder on for tonight. It’s been a long day and we still have a lot of work to do. We all need a good night’s sleep,” Snow declares standing up, her husband grasps her hand. They all agree with the exhaustion weighing on them. Snow leaves and David follows behind her. Regina looks like she wants to say something, but she shakes her head, leaving as well. Emma finishes her glass of wine in one swift motion, wishing it was something stronger.

“Did we miss something?” Killian asks looking at the cousins remaining at the table.

“We have devoted so much of our lives to this fight and to have it be so close to the end well it’s difficult for everyone to process,” Elsa comments.

“Not to mention the moral implications,” Anna contributes.

“Good thing you won’t be killing him then,” Emma snaps, irritated by Anna’s innocence.

“Emma, you have light magic that’s meant for good. How is what we’re doing good?” Anna asks her, getting upset.

“You don’t think this is worth it? Don’t you want to go home? Aren’t you tired of living on the run? Aren’t you tired of him murdering us out of some misguided vengeance? We are getting rid of a great evil, what isn’t good about that?” Emma says getting angry, her hands starting to glow. The pack realizes what an important fight this is for everyone in this house, what they have all sacrificed to be here.

“Emma,” Elsa says looking at her cousin’s hands. Emma curses before shaking out her hands, the glowing stops.

“I make no apologies for what has to be done,” Emma says before leaving the room. Anna looks to Elsa.

“I’m going to bed, good night,” she tells the room before leaving. Elsa looks as if she doesn’t know what to do anymore.

“I’m sorry you all had to see that, tensions have been running high lately,” Elsa tells the room, cleaning up the glasses that everyone left behind.

“No worries, these things happen. Especially within families,” Liam says, jumping to help Elsa collect the glasses and follows her out of the room.

“Anyone have the feeling what we jumped into is much larger than what we thought it was,” Ruby muses out loud.

“Definitely, but that’s what makes it interesting,” Robin says with a smirk. Killian nods and tells them goodnight. He wants to find Emma, he knows she’s upset. While searching the rooms on the ground floor of the house Killian spots Emma in the garden looking over forest. He makes his way outside to stand next to her.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks her, wanting to reach out to touch her, but he stops himself.

“Anna has morality issues with this and it’s hard for her to accept that,” Emma says, not looking at him.

“I gathered as much, but I asked about you,” he says pointedly.

“I’m fine. I’ve prepared myself for this for a long time,” she says finally looking at him, with something akin to sadness in her eyes.

“Well, if you ever need to talk about it. I’m here,” he tells her. He’s not entirely sure why, but that pull he feels when she’s around is undeniable.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says a smile on her face.

“Ah that’s much better,” he says and she raises an eyebrow.

“What is?” she asks, curious.

“Your smile, much better than the frown that was masking your face,” he tells her. He desperately wants to reach out, place a hand on her cheek, and pull her in for a kiss. He stops himself, now isn’t the time for that.

She can’t stop thinking about him and his stupid lips. How soft and supple they look. How she wants them on hers so desperately. She never felt like this with Neal, not even once. She’s fighting so hard to deny this attraction, but in this moment she wants him.

“You don’t know me all that well how can you say that?” she says shaking her head.

“I don’t have to know you well to see you look much more beautiful with a smile,” he tells her.

“You seem like quite the charmer, I bet you say that to all the women you meet,” she says with a smirk.

“Ah yes all the many women I meet as a wolf in the forest,” he teases her. The moonlight shining down on them, providing dim lighting in the garden.

“You never know who you’ll find in the forest,” she smiles at him.

“You never do. I feel quite lucky to have met you,” he tells her his hand brushing hers.

“It does feel quite fortunate, something about fate and all that,” she says, blushing. He can no longer help it and his hand brushes her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans into his touch. He brings her closer until his lips brush against hers. Once then twice. She surges forward and captures his lips with hers. Gods he’s never had a kiss like this. He imagined kissing her all day, but this is something else. Emma’s hands grasp the lapels of his jacket. One of his hands tangles in her hair.

My god Emma has never had a kiss like this. A kiss full of passion and longing. She never knew a kiss could feel this good. She knows she should distance herself away from him, but my god kissing him shouldn’t feel as good as this. She’s entirely selfish in this moment. She wants this and him, even though it’s not fair to him at all.

When they pull apart and come up for air and rest their foreheads on each other. Emma realizes what a huge mistake she has made. She can’t kiss him. She can’t lead him on like this. He should kiss women who aren’t fated to die at the hands of the great evil.

“That was…” he says trailing off. She pulls away from him, shaking her head.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have..” she says backing away.

“Emma?” he says confused. He knows she felt what he did. If she didn’t she would’ve stopped the kiss. She would’ve said something or shouted at him. She’s running because she’s scared.

“I can’t. Please wait five minutes until you go back inside the house,” she says all the while continuing to back up.

“As you wish,” he says briskly, he can’t stop her from running. No matter how badly he wants to. Emma turns around and runs into the house. She definitely shouldn’t have kissed him. That was a huge mistake. How could she do that to someone who wasn’t born into this hellish mess? Emma barrels into a room she’s sharing with Elsa and Anna. Elsa looks up from her bed and Anna does too.

“Are you okay?” Elsa asks. Emma just shakes her head.

“Nope, I’m definitely not,” Emma says her hand shaking as she runs it through her hair.

“I can feel the guilt and regret rolling off you. You want to talk about it?” Anna asks her. Emma shakes her head.

“Not yet,” she mumbles. The sisters nod, they’re used to waiting for Emma to open up to them. They’ve learned not to push her.

“We’re here when you’re ready,” Elsa tells her as Emma gets ready for bed. Emma just nods not knowing what to say. How to explain her terrible actions. She wouldn’t drag a good man down with her. It took awhile, but Emma eventually faded into sleep.

In the morning thankfully Henry is quite attached to her and requires a lot of her attention. She’s so distracted she misses how Killian is still gazing longing at Emma. How he’s not mad, just confused as to what went wrong. Liam and Elsa keep looking at each other then hurriedly looking away when they catch each other’s gaze. Robin gazing at Regina when he knows she’s not looking. Regina who is making a show of not looking at Robin.

“Is it me or do we have a bunch of love sick fools in here?” Snow says to David, who looks shocked by this.

“Who are you talking about?” he asks looking around the room.

“Oh you can be so dense sometimes,” Snow sighs, “When you see it you’ll know.” David looks confused, but glances around the table.

After breakfast Anna volunteers to distract the kids for the day, saying she’ll support any plan they come up with. That’s when things get hard for Emma because then she notices how Killian is looking at her and it breaks her heart. He’s not mad or angry, he’s still gazing at her like he always has with maybe a tinge of sadness.

“I’ve been thinking about the distraction and I think it should be me,” Regina tells the room.

“Why you?” Robin asks, curious.

“The Dark One and I have a little history. He knew my mother, he killed her. He would be able to trace my magic if we left a convincing trail,” Regina says.

“He can trace magic?” Ruby asks looking around.

“Why do you think we walked here? We could transport from place to place, but that’s how he tracked us at first. He came so close getting us a few times,” Snow tells them.

“When do we want to set this trap?” Emma asks the room, changing the subject.

“It should be the day of the full moon. We will be at our strongest and the most helpful to you then,” Killian answers her question forcing her to look at him finally. He’s more hurt then he cares to admit. Most of all curious as to what happened last night. What caused the change in Emma. It’s not hard to see she’s an strong, powerful, and beautiful women, but he doubts she sees that in herself. He wants to talk, but she’s avoiding his gaze.

“When is the full moon?” Emma asks him, trying to not let his gaze get to her. She knows there are things unsaid between them. There are questions he’s dying to ask her and she doesn’t want to give him the answers. He’s better off without her in his life. He’s better off with her at a distance.

“Two weeks,” he tells her. She finally breaks his gaze to look at Regina.

“Will that be enough time to set up a convincing trail?” she asks Regina.

“Yes, I’ll leave the week before. The trail will be small and hard to follow. He’ll need to believe that he was the only one who could pick up on it,” Regina says.

“So we have a week to scout out a good location to have this fight,” Liam says and David nods.

“We’ll start today then,” Killian says and Liam agrees. The meeting breaks up, the wolves shifting in the yard before they set off. Killian walks out the room without as much as a goodbye. Maybe he’s finally upset with Emma, but that’s good it’s how it should be.

Regina heads to their library to do some more research. Emma glares out of the window in the parlor. Elsa strides up next to her.

“I know you’re not ready to talk about whatever happened, but I need to talk to you,” Elsa says quietly. Emma turns to her concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asks, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I think you’re right. I think he’s my true love,” is all she says at first. Emma smirks.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Emma comments.

“Witches, we’re more intune with ourselves, with our bodies. We know when a change occurs, we can sense it. What if he doesn’t feel what I feel or he doesn’t know what it means?” Elsa asks quickly her panic causing snow to fall. Emma takes her hand and the snow stops.

“He may have not accepted it yet or he doesn’t know what it is. I doubt either one of those things changes how he feels about you. What caused this panic in you?” Emma asks skeptical.

“Nothing really. He helped me clean up last night and we were talking then at some point we started holding hands as he walked me to my room. He said he wanted to get to know me and kissed my hand before walking away. All rather tame I’m afraid,” she shrugs.

“It can’t be that tame if you’re panicking, what else happened?” Emma asked again, knowing her cousin was holding back. Elsa takes her time before answering.

“Something snapped into place or perhaps the pull between us was so strong, but all I know he’s the only one for me,” she tells Emma, who smiles.

“When you know you know. Men are usually the last to know when a woman wants them, so give him time to catch up,” She comforts Elsa. They look over the view that the house provides for a few minutes pondering everything happening in their lives.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Emma almost whispers.

“What?” Elsa asks, wondering if she heard her cousin correctly.

“I’ve made a mistake,” Emma repeats herself.

“What happened?” Elsa asks, calmly.

“I kissed Killian,” she says quietly.

“I knew I wasn’t the only one who was interested in a Jones brother. Why would-” Elsa’s train of thought stops and catches up to Emma’s, “Oh no, Emma. I’m so sorry.”

“It was impulsive and in the moment. I just got swept away. I feel like he sees me and understands me. It’s never been like that with anyone outside the coven. He does it with such ease. Elsa, the kiss… there is nothing that can compare,” Emma tells her tears in her eyes.

“They don’t know about your fate,” Elsa says, unsure. Emma shakes her head.

“I shouldn’t have kissed him. It was reckless. I can’t lead him on knowing that I’ll die. It wouldn’t be fair to him,” she whispers.

“Maybe he should get to decide. Maybe to him loving you would be worth it. They should know the truth anyway with this plan of ours,” she tells her cousin. Her words may not be what Emma wants to hear, but they are what she needs to hear. Emma wipes away the single tear the has fallen down her face.

“Thank you. I’ll have to think about it,” Emma nods. She makes sure she is presentable before going in to see Henry and Roland. She helps Anna out with their lesson for the day. Spending time with Henry is her greatest joy. She wants to create good moments with him because soon she’ll be gone and he will only have those moments to remember her by.

Thanks for reading!

[leiandcharles]

you said you have a list of fics you reread, would you mind sharing it? No worrys if you dont want to

I don’t mind at all. It’s kind of long and most of these are pretty old because I haven’t updated my list in awhile (also why a lot of them are FFN links) I also don’t know everyone’s tumblr, sorry, but if anyone knows tell me and I will fix the tag

My list of fics that I go back to time and time again: 

Amarantine (Love Is Always Love) and Counting Sheep - @andromeda3116

An Age Cannot Sate Love - DancingDoula

As Real As You Want It To Be - @ive-always-been-a-pirate

Breaking Glass - @swaggercaption

Breathe Out (So I Can Breathe You In) - @whisperofgrace

Crimson - @qqueenofhades

Dream Of Me - @itsaboutbloodytime

Every Day I Write The Book - @msgenevieve447

The Fluffy Problem - @effulgentcolors

Fly Away Home - spanglemaker9

Heat - goodform2011

Hollow Beginnings - @emeraldromance

Icing On The Cake - @startswithhope

I’ll Ask For The Sea - @stalrua

Lost Souls And Rabbit Holes and The Trouble With Faking It - @nowforruin

The Memory Keeper (+sequels) and These Dreams - karmacanary

Neck Deep and it’s sequel Black, Black is Love’s Potion - @yunuen 

A One Time Thing (And Other Untruths) - weezly14

The Path That Moonbeams Make - @madlymel

Polaris and Wonderland - @bluestoplights

Second Star To The Right - Rhianna-Aurora  

The Secret Of Drowning - @below-the-starry-clusters-bright

Smooth Sailing (With A Chance Of Definite Passion) - @laschatzi

Sometimes It Hurts - @captain-k-jones

A Somewhat Terrible Idea - randomsquare

Stardust In Your Skin - midwestwind

Straight To You and Turn My World Around - @montanarosalie

A Tall Tail - @spartanguard

Under The Horizon - romancered

We Build These Walls To Watch Them Fall - jadeddiva

Winter - @eight-0f-hearts

With Affection - @phiralovesloki

With You - @seastarved

World Unknown (+ sequels) - @cutieodonoghue