#ouat s2 canon divergent fic

[snowbellewells]

Belated Birthday Fic for @jrob64

Joni (@jrob64) this is long overdue now, and probably not worth the waiting you've done for it, but I still wanted to give you the story I wrote for your birthday. It takes place in Season 2, after Emma leaves Hook on the beanstalk, but diverges in that Hook carches up with the Savior and the rest of the Princess squad again without Cora. There's some mentioned whump and I hope plenty of hurt/comfort (since you and I both enjoy that so! ;) And I hope you'll still like it, even though it's now well past your birthday. I am so glad we are friends and that this OTP and fandom lead us to meet and get to know each other!

“Consequences”

by: @snowbellewells

The logs and twigs they’d gathered for their campfire were crackling mightily, releasing occasional pops when sap ignited, but giving off the light and heat their weary and mismatched group needed as they wordlessly gathered on a fallen stump and large rock nearby. None of the women spoke. Exhausted and worried, and still not fully trusting of each other, they merely watched as Mary Margaret spun the rabbit she’d brought back for supper on the spit they had rigged up over the fire and listened as Mulan finished assembling the tent they’d soon crawl into once they had eaten at last.

This wilderness was about the furthest thing from an “Enchanted” Forest that Emma could have conjured in her naive 21st century mind, but she was simply too drained to point out the irony to either her mother - she wasn’t even ready to apply that term to her friend and roommate yet - or honest-to-goodness freaking Sleeping Beauty. And it didn’t help that she kept hearing Hook’s voice echoing in her ears, the hurt and shocked betrayal in his tone - and in those dangerously expressive eyes - as he’d pled with her, ‘Have I told you a lie? Why do this to me now?’ She had the sinking feeling that no matter how tired her body might be, when she lay her head down tonight, she wouldn’t be able to sleep for seeing his face as it had looked when she had turned away on the back of her eyelids, and her guilt at leaving him chained atop the beanstalk gnawing at her insides.

Shaking her head clear, Emma reminded herself once again that Hook had been in league with Cora; they had no proof but his word, her gut feeling, and her superpower no one else believed, that he wasn’t still working for the witch against them. She’d done the right thing, Emma savagely scolded her yammering conscience. Nothing was worth the risk of not getting back to Henry - or even worse, seeing Regina’s evil mother find her way to where Henry was. Certainly not a piercing-eyed pirate who seemed to see right through her and make her squirm doing it.

With a nod and murmur of thanks, she took the portion of roasted meat offered to her on a makeshift skewer and nibbled at it gingerly. It might just be that she was famished and too tired to be picky, but it tasted better than expected. Emma was swallowing her second bite, when noise caught her attention from the nearby treeline. She jerked upright, immediately on guard; her state of near-slumber shattered and all her nerves jangling with alarm. Her eyes met Mary Margaret’s as her mother reached for her bow and Emma stood with fists clenched, ready to defend them however she could, whether her gun was any use out here or not. Mulan had abandoned the tent at the sound as well, smoothly drawing her sword and facing the trees in front of them like a deadly sentinel.

The noise of heavy footsteps smashing through the underbrush grew nearer and louder; branches snapped, heavy, gasping breaths were heard, and Emma could only square her shoulders and wait for whatever new foe was coming forth to show itself.

What she wasn’t expecting - and what tore a harsh gasp from her throat on sight - was for Hook to stumble dazedly out of the woods toward them, momentarily leaning against a tree trunk to steady himself, his face obviously bloody and his clothing torn. He took a couple more weaving steps toward them before the toe of his boot caught a root that sent him sprawling face down in the dirt at their feet. And he didn’t get up. Didn’t move or speak. Emma was rushing forward in spite of herself before she could think better of it. Her mother called for her to be careful, and Mulan’s stern face cautioned it could be a ploy, but she paid neither of them much heed.

He still hadn’t moved, and he looked even worse close up. He’d been hurt. Badly. Surely Anton wouldn’t have…  This wasn’t what she had wanted. Was this her fault?

Crouching, Emma tried to shake Hook gently, to stir him back into wakefulness. A groan escaped him breathily, which shouldn’t have relieved her nearly as much as it did. There was nothing for it but to roll him over onto his back. At least then she could see his face and assess the damage.

But when she did, her breath caught a second time, choking up somewhere between her throat and her lungs. She couldn’t imagine there had been many times in the life of Captain Killian Jones when this could be said of him, but he looked terrible. His lower lip was busted, with rusty remnants of dried blood staining where they had trailed down his chin. One eye was swollen nearly shut, and the other was bleary to the point that she wondered how he had made his way to them through the dark. A large gash that had barely closed showed beneath the disheveled dark fringe on his forehead. Dark, purpled bruises and nasty scrapes mottled the skin of his face, neck and collar nearly everywhere she could see. Though she would have never admitted it aloud, Hook’s usually flawless countenance was horribly altered by whatever had happened to him. The shadows darkening his usual mischievious sparkle and daring turned her stomach in a way she couldn't begin to explain.

He struggled to raise his head slightly and blinked up at her as best he could through the usable slit of his eye. “Ah Swan, caught up to you, didn’t I?” he jested brokenly, somehow still teasing her through what must be immense pain.

Tilting her head to study him, Emma struggled to look unamused while inexplicably aching to place a hand to his forehead, brush back the matted hair there, and offer some modicum of comfort. Her fingers moved almost of their own accord, hovering just barely over his cheek before hesitating and pulling back, tingling at their proximity even as she resisted making contact. There didn’t appear to be a single place on him that wasn’t battered and wouldn’t cause him more pain if she tried to touch.

As if reading her concern, Hook shifted restlessly, attempting to lever himself upright and then falling back with a wince and guttural moan of protest. She also noticed for the first time how tightly he kept his hook arm pressed to his side, not sure if the injury was to the arm itself or if he were shielding his stomach or ribs, but it ratcheted her worry for him that much higher. Not certain what to do for him, or what to say, her usual half-annoyed bantering retorts fled her the longer she witnessed his vulnerability. Emma finally settled on simply answering his question, and asking one of her own. “It would appear you’ve caught me,” she acknowledged, then added softer, “But why?”

Huffing out a weary breath, Killian didn’t look at her as he barely shook his head, the motion seeming to express that he didn’t quite know himself. “I guess because, double cross and all, Lass, you lot are the safest choice for company of my rather limited options.”

Emma flushed with embarrassment at his casual mention of what she’d done. Her cheeks burned, knowing the man who lay before her could surely see how she’d colored at the reminder and could only hope that his current state made him less sharply observant than usual. That she hadn’t trusted him or the brief alliance they’d made shamed her, and then made her angry for feeling ashamed. She’d been burned before, and had learned to be more wary. That she had wanted to believe him, and had silently agreed when he’d called them quite a team, had only made her more anxious to leave him behind, to flee before he turned on her and she was left in the dust herself. Pushing the conflicting emotions aside, she tried another tack instead. “But what happene to you? How did…? Surely Anton didn’t…?”  She was tripping over her words now, flustered and chiding herself as she shook her head in frustration.

Biting her tongue until she could regain control, her eyes flew to her hand when Killian used his to clasp it and gain her attention. Though his fingers were trembling with the effort, he held on and answered her slowly. “No, that wasn’t the work of your giant admirer. Your new friend released me once the time you requested of him had passed. Bloody gargantuan numbskull threatened me to leave you in peace, but he didn’t do this damage.”

Emma exhaled air she’d hardly realized she was holding. It didn’t make things right between them, but she was grateful that she hadn’t misjudged Anton’s nature and directly caused the torture Hook had clearly undergone. “But then, who?” she whispered, finally daring to squeeze the hand that held hers in return, while at last reaching out and smoothing a light caress over his brow.

He flinched slightly at the initial contact, but then his eyes fell closed momentarily with a sigh of relief. Emma had to know, though the only other option she could think of had dread settling in her belly like stone. “Who did this to you?” she choked.

“Why Cora, of course,” he intoned, trying to appear either flippant or matter of fact and failing with the shadows that passed over his expression. “Not honestly sure why she didn’t finish the job, unless she thought she had and this old body is just too stubborn to give up the ghost.” He drew in a ragged breath before adding, “At any rate, after letting me know that she would leave me here, unable to ever gain my vengeance on Rumplestiltskin, she made certain she had demonstrated the consequences of choosing to align myself against her.”

By this point, his breathing had grown shallow and labored once more with the effort of speaking. Shushing him with a plea to rest, Emma was eager to check with the others about anything they might be able to do for his injuries. He certainly didn’t need her to keep him talking as she was. Pressing trembling lips together, Emma dashed away the single drop of moisture that had escaped her eye and laid his hand tenderly back on his chest. “Well, thankfully, Cora counted her win a bit too soon. Let’s see if we can help you live to fight another day.”

His unfairly long lashes fluttered, and a small, soft chuckle broke from his cracked lips, but Killian seemd to be rapidly giving up the fight to remain lucid. Emma wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad while they tried to tend to his wounds, but she had to do something. She wasn’t going to desert him again.

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

When his eyes fluttered open some time later, Killian Jones found himself dazed and dizzy, then almost nauseous, with his throat parched and dry. Panic followed almost immediately as he struggled to gain his bearings and found himself weak as a newborn kitten, floundering even to sit up unaided. He could not have said whether it had been minutes, hours, or days since he was last aware of his surroundings, but just as he was not sure how much time had passed, he was also vaguely uncertain of where he was and whether or not he was alone - an even more disturbing condition.

His mind was reeling as he attempted to move, scrabbling around over the dry, dusty ground with his good hand in a frantic search for his cutlass. Surely he must have left it within reach. He had learned long ago, even as the captain of a mostly loyal pirate crew, that enemies were varied and numerous, and that he must never let his guard down without a weapon close at hand. He had a jagged, long-healed gash running under his ribs, which Smee had tried his best - if rather crookedly - to sew closed, but which had taught him that lesson all too well.

With a frenzied sound of frustration in his throat, Killian kept fighting to sit upright, ready to defend himself against some unknown foe, only to have hands grip his upper arms tightly, pressing him back and forcing him to remain on the ground. “Unhand me, you blackguard!” he growled, only to have his vision finally regain focus and the fight abruptly drain from his limbs when he found himself staring up at Emma Swan hovering over him, her touch the one keeping him in place.

“Easy there, Hook,” she chided, loosening her grip as he stilled and grew calmer upon seeing he was not under immediate attack. “You’ve got to settle down, or you’ll hurt yourself even more. We tried to stitch the deepest of your cuts and bandage you up. Don’t undo it all!”

She was fussing over him, Killian realized belatedly, his hazy and addled mind slowly filling in the blanks he had missed. She might be scolding and grumbling as she did so, but she was still frightened for his well-being and more concerned for his comfort than he would have dared imagine possible.

He had known there was a frisson of energy that flowed between them when he’d taken her hand in the giant’s lair, cleansing and caring for the cut on her palm despite her stubbornly self-effacing protests. And he really hadn’t thought he was imagining the way she’d held her breath and her pupils had dilated when he’d eyed her daringly while tying off the bandage with his teeth. Still, he’d been hesitant to place too much fatih in what he was reading from her either. Emma Swan was overly guarded and used to being on her own. Someone had obviously hurt her deeply enough to make her push everyone else away in response. Not only that, but she was an actual royal - the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, no less - and the fabled Savior besides. Her light was much too pure and bright to be aligned with his dark and tarnished pirate soul set on vengeance.

All the same, he had cursed himself as seven times a fool when his heart plummeted at her turning and running from him on the beanstalk. He had held out a little hope for them, in spite of his better judgement, or he would not have been so hurt by the betrayal. She was as full of shining enticement, from her flowing golden hair to her sparkling jade eyes, as any buried treasure. He couldn’t help wanting to stay by her side.

As Emma slowly moved to support him, helping him ease into a sitting position while bracing him against her own hip and shoulder, she offered him a water skin and held it up so he could take a much-needed cool drink of water. Killian was stunned to realize that maybe winning her over wasn’t as lost a cause as he had thought. Perhaps Emma Swan already cared more than she wanted to allow herself, and against her own good sense - much as he had found himself doing.

Several quiet moments passed before Killian fully registered that all was still and motionless around them. It was full dark now; the middle of the night, or perhaps early morning, if his view of the moon was accurate, yet he could hear no movements or voice’s from Emma’s royal, bandit, or warrior companions. The fire next to them was dimmed to near embers, and it seemed for the moment as if he and Emma were the only two people under the brilliant array of stars overhead.

Now that he had his bearings and his thirst was slaked, he ventured a glance beyond his lovely blonde Savior’s beguiling face, at least far enough to see that a rough tent had been staked and three bed rolls were occupied beneath its temporary shelter, explaining their privacy, but raising even more questions. Why were the rest of them willing to lower their guard enough to sleep with a virtual stranger and former enemy in their camp? It had been hard to miss the warning and distrust in the Lady Snow’s eyes, at any rate - probably largely protectiveness for her daughter, but still, why grant him this sort of uninterrupted interlude with Emma then? He was clearly in poor shape; maybe they had reckoned he couldn’t do anything to harm them, or charm Emma too thoroughly, as injured as he was.

Killian was abruptly startled from his wandering thoughts when he once more felt the cool, soothing touch of Emma’s fingertips trailing up the side of his face and into his hair. She raked the dark strands back from his fevered skin, calming even the pounding that pained him from the magical beating he’d endured and the rough impact his head had suffered when Cora finally dropped his battered body to the hard ground and left him for dead.

The Enchanted Forest’s lost princess spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear her when she addressed him again, her eyes studiously avoiding his to observe her fingers carding through the mussed, blood-caked strands of his hair. “I’m sorry… truly, I am. It was wrong of me to leave you behind the way I did, and… I should have trusted you. You may be a pirate, and awfully full of yourself, and way too flirty for your own good…” 

At that, Killian attempted to waggle an eyebrow and smirk salaciously to make her smile, only for a cringe to escape him at the motion of his brow and lip.

She noticed, of course, and rather than admonishing that it served him right, as she would have usually done, Emma hissed in sympathy and hushed him with a gentle hum in the back of her throat. “See, this shouldn’t have happened to you, Ho - Killian.” Her switch from his moniker to his real name struck him right in the center of the chest, with as much emphasis as a physical blow. He couldn’t decide if her concern, guilt, and contrition more warmed his heart or troubled him - not wanting to win her over out of mere pity. “That witch only caught up to you, found you empty-handed, because of what I did. This is my fault… b-but… I never wanted you to be hurt like this. I only wanted a head start, to get back to my son.”

If he hadn’t been shocked to his core already, the depth of emotion in Swan’s voice as she made her confession would have been enough to bowl him over. It sounded as though she might be on the verge of tears on his behalf, and Killian could hardly fathom it. Drawing a ragged breath of his own, he wet his cracked lips and managed a sincere response to her heartfelt openness. 

“Darling,” and here he couldn’t help a bit of a rogueish grin at her, despite how it pulled on the broken skin of his lip again. 

She shook her head, but didn’t scoff or interrupt, not this time, and heartened, he continued in all sincerity. “I’m not going to lie to you. I was angry when you shackled me there and left me behind. I’d been on the level with you, was doing my best to help you, and for the first the time in a long time, I felt like I connected with someone genuinely. But I also understand that your boy is your first priority. You cannot let anything else matter as much - or even possibly risk his safety.”

His battered knuckles were beginning to swell, and his fingers ached as he moved them, but Killian still managed to return the clutch of Emma’s own hand and intertwine their fingers with a sigh of rightness and relief. Glancing back up to search her gaze once more, he added, “I understand what being separated from one’s child might do to a person… more than you might think, in fact. I respect you all the more for your urgency and desire to return to him as soon as possible.”

He could see Emma wondering what his words might mean; the gears turning in her sharp mind were obvious, even if she only pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes slightly, watching him a few moments longer. Thankfully, she didn’t press the matter further, but instead released what seemed a lungful of air she must have been holding worriedly and gave him a hopeful smile. “So… you forgive me, then?”

The barest dip of his chin was as far as he dared move his aching head, but Killian assured her without hesitation, “Aye, Emma, I do,” in as strong and certain a voice as he could muster. 

By then, the faintest tendrils of light were beginning to break through the deep indigo sky and soft hints of scuffling and waking from their fellow travelers hinted that they would not be alone much longer.

Though he still hurt all over as if he had been scorched by a dragon’s breath and then crushed by an ogre’s tread, Killian couldn’t help but feel as if his situation had drastically changed. Even more so when Emma Swan’s eyes grew warmer yet; her aspect beaming crookedly at him like sunlight slowly emerging from a bank of clouds. Just before they were joined by Snow White bearing coffee for his Savior, Emma winked at him conspiratorially and leaned forward to murmur. “I’m glad, Pirate. After all, we make quite the team, remember?”

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @apiratewhopines @sotangledupinit @stahlop @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @killian-whump @artistic-writer @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @justanother-unluckysoul @wefoundloveunderthelight @motherkatereloyshipper @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @jonesfandomfanatic @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @drowned-dreamer @xarandomdreamx @caught-in-the-filter

[justmilah]

selkie fic ! selkie fic ! selkie fic ! selkie fic! (➡️ saw the selkie fic as one of ur wips and have to know more about it right this second right now)

OKAY SO LIKE! Currently all that is officially done is a very rough outline of what I like to call the 'before.'

And then I had two different ideas on what to do from there.

ETA: BUT ALSO LIKE, SELKIE MILAH AU?! I want this too??

Both would be canon compliantish to a point? The first one would diverge in s2. I've been flailing a lot with @moonbeamnights so I don't know what is what in regards to it, but I think this will be the way I go with it? What I do know is that while it won't be CS it will be Emma Friendly because as we all know the show showed us in Devil's Due that Artist Swan could have had a great bromance.

The second is under the cut because it involves WishHook and since I'm not using it because I have another post s7 fic I'm working on I just wanna babble about my idea for a bit xD

My thought was, when the wish realm was made, because that whole curse thing Gothel put on Killian, the wish kind of figured a curse NEEDS a cure so it creeps back a few centuries to make sure a TLK could be possible. And how can that be without changing too much? Milah's a selkie. And because of the way she was wrapped with her coat, it got stuck, so she couldn't take it off and then randomly one day Wish Hook asks OG Hook 'you ever figure out why that seal's been following us?' and he's just like '...what seal?' LISTEN IF YOU THINK THIS IDEA IS FARFETCHED I CAME UP WITH A WAY TO INCORPORATE SAILOR MOON MYTHOS TO OUAT SEVERAL YEARS AGO

[snowbellewells]

@cosette141 Oh wow! This one too was just a literal feast for the emotions, hitting us with all the feels (and mostly good ones at that!) and then another doozy of a twist right at the end just as everything seemed all cozy and ready to fade into happily ever after… You just don’t disappoint with this one, I find myself still getting drawn in further and further. 😍😍😍

I loved the opening breakfast scene in the Charming loft: David getting ready to go sheriff for the day, MM making everyone a huge breakfast, Henry enjoying cartoons, and Emma glad to be there safe and sound with all of them, but very much wanting to see her pirate. I got such a kick out of David trying to play nice when Killian turned up at the door, seriously melted when He Ty greeted him so enthusiastically, and was almost giddy at MM grinning from ear to ear and totally understanding and seemingly encouraging what was going on with Emma and Killian. I wanted more of all of that in canon! (I think I wanted all of it more than I even realized until you placed it there before me!)

The real time my heart swelled the most though was when Emma just had to go to Killian, make sure he was still there, and she opened the door to find him right there about to knock, he’d needed to see her just as much! It’s perfect!!! 💖💖💖 “He made a little oof, catching her, and she felt the chuckle reverberate in his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and Emma felt herself sigh something in relief, his embrace chasing away the residual anxiety from the nightmares. "Morning," she whispered into his chest.”

I love too that later Killian is the one to see and understand that Emma is still struggling with the attack she survived and finds a way to bring her peace by taking them out alone together on the Jolly Roger. That whole moment is lovely with him realizing her capacity for innocent joy and wonder, his sadness that she’s had to bury it for so long, and his determination to protect and cherish that quality, and everything about her, from then on. Not only that but how Emma has brought him to life again, helped him see more for his life than bitterness and revenge - a chance to dream and feel happiness and love once more. It’s just beautiful and such a pure expression of what they did bring to each other in canon, and yet and new and unique iteration of it as well. (I don’t even know if I am putting this in a way that makes sense or not, I just really adore it, is the bottom line.)

But then that ending… Neal Cassidy arriving at the town line can’t mean anything pleasant…. I don’t want him to be there, and yet, I can’t help wondering what’s coming at the same time….

Begin Again (OUAT fanfic) | Chapter 7

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Pairing: Captain Swan

Words: 6k (this chapter) | 40k (total, so far)

Summary: (s2 "Manhattan" divergence) No one breaks a deal with Rumplestiltskin, and Emma finds herself facing the wrath of the Dark One. What if Neal didn't come back for Emma in NYC, but instead, Hook showed up to kill Rumplestiltskin early? No one has ever saved Emma before, and Hook has never been able to save anyone at all. It's time for them both to tell a different story. Together. CS

Read this chapter (chp 7) on AO3

Chapter 1: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 2: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 3: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 4: A03 | tumblr

Chapter 5: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 6: AO3

Chapter 7

"Good morning!"

Emma descended the last stair, seeing Mary Margaret looking at her from the kitchen, making what looked like a banquet. French toast, eggs, bacon and a light aroma of chocolate and cinnamon met her at once. David was securing his gun holster, dressed for sheriffing. He looked up, giving Emma a smile of his own.

Henry was already seated at the island, watching the food cook eagerly. He looked well-rested, and Emma felt relief that he at least was dealing with things well. She would never understand how her son could be so unbelievably brave.

"Sleep well?" asked Mary Margaret with a smile as bright as the daylight outside. Emma could already see a difference in both hers and David's faces and demeanors; the threat of Cora having eased seemed to lift a huge weight off their shoulders. They both seemed to have slept wonderfully.

Emma's honest answer to her mother's question was no, as she'd barely gotten more than an hour of straight sleep, none of it restful. Every slip into sleep was another vivid replay of Gold attacking her in the apartment, Neal leaving her again, or… or other people leaving her.

Seems her subconscious has yet to adopt the trust her conscious self had tentatively decided to.

The residual panic lingered, and Emma took a tired breath.

"I am not going anywhere."

"I will see you tomorrow."

The sudden urge to see him was overwhelming.

But Emma forced a smile, pulling out a chair and said, "Yeah, great."

Mary Margaret and David didn't sense the lie, and Mary Margaret smiled wider.

"How'd you sleep?" Emma asked Henry, ruffling his hair a little.

"Good," he said, and Emma smiled at the honesty in his answer.

"And before you offer to," said David, leaning against the counter with his coffee in hand, "you are forbidden from coming to work today. I've got it."

Emma felt a true smile touch her lips at the gesture. "Thanks."

"Though I'm expecting the crime rate to drop significantly," said David with a grin. "The two biggest problems in the city have been taken care of."

That certainly was true.

Mary Margaret turned off the stove, and filled a plate of food, placing it in front of Henry, who grabbed it with a "Thanks!" and immediately took it to the TV, where cartoons were already playing.

Emma smiled, seeing him happy.

A plate was placed in front of her, and Emma turned, realizing just how hungry she was. "What's with all this?" she asked, picking up a fork. "Cereal would have been fine."

After pouring Emma some hot cocoa, with cinnamon, and placing it by her plate, Mary Margaret smiled, just looking at her. "With you and Henry home safe and sound, and with the town crisis over with," said Mary Margaret, "it seemed like a nice breakfast was in order."

Emma took a sip of the hot chocolate and smiled at the familiar comfort it always brought. The food was amazing, though it could have been her hunger; Emma realized she hadn't eaten at all yesterday.

As Emma took another bite, Mary Margaret shot a quick look to David, who was pulling on his jacket, both him and Henry out of earshot, and she leaned over the counter. She lowered her voice, something curious jumped in her eyes. "So… Killian," she said, brow raising around the name.

Emma almost choked on her hot cocoa.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the hot beverage.

She felt herself tense, vulnerability rushing through her.

But at the thought of him, Emma felt a shy smile touch her lips involuntarily, and at it, Mary Margaret's grin grew.

But the thought of him also brought back the panic from the nightmares and her smile faded.

Emma put her fork down, suddenly no longer able to quell the desire, the need to see him. The need to make sure he hasn't left, that he hasn't taken the night to realize that she actually wasn't worth staying for—

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

Hesitantly looking at Mary Margaret, she mumbled, "Would you be able to watch Henry today?"

Mary Margaret's grin only grew wider.

And Emma's cheeks only got hotter.

"Go," she said with that grin, and Emma was grateful she didn't press.

Emma smiled back, getting up and grabbing her own jacket.

Telling Henry and David she'd be back, though Henry barely looked up from the TV, Emma grabbed the door and opened it—

—and stumbled to a surprised stop.

Because Hook—Killian—was standing just beyond the door, and Emma caught an expression on his face that looked almost nervous, his fist raised as if he had just been about to knock.

"Hook," she breathed, her shock morphing into a smile.

"Swan," he said just as softly, matching her smile. "Good morning," he said with a little glint in his eye, something excited.

And Emma, for a moment, couldn't speak.

He came back.

He came back.

No one ever comes back.

Relief like none other was washing through her.

She couldn't help herself.

She grabbed him in a hug.

He made a little oof, catching her, and she felt the chuckle reverberate in his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and Emma felt herself sigh something in relief, his embrace chasing away the residual anxiety from the nightmares. "Morning," she whispered into his chest.

"Last night was the longest of my life, love," he whispered into her hair, and she could feel his smile.

That made two of them.

She couldn't quite process it.

He was still here.

A light clearing throat from behind them made them break apart, and Emma suddenly remembered Mary Margaret was still in the kitchen, in clear view of them. Not to mention David, whose tension wafted over like a storm cloud. More heat rushing to her cheeks, Emma bit her lip.

But Mary Margaret was clearly trying to keep most of her smile to herself, despite the clear torn expression on her husband's face, and she approached them, David a little stiffer. "Hook," said Mary Margaret in greeting.

"Milady," he said, dipping his head a little. Mary Margaret's brows raised at the respect and politeness, such a strong contrast from the way Killian used to speak to them.

"Hook," said David at her other side, his face attempting a smile, but it was more a grimace than anything. He was trying, and Emma would take it.

"Captain!"

All four of them turned at Henry's exclamation. He'd run from the TV still playing cartoons to them, looking at Killian with utter excitement. "You're really staying in Storybrooke now?!" he asked breathlessly, looking from Killian to Emma and back.

Killian smiled, such a fondness in his eyes, looking nothing but touched that the idea gave Henry so much joy. "Aye," he said, his eyes on Emma, making something flit in her chest.

"Awesome!" Henry grinned wider, his excitement making Killian's smile mirror his. "Can we go sailing again?" he asked eagerly. "Or—or can you teach me to swordfight? Maybe we can—"

"Slow down, kid," said Emma with a little laugh, seeing the slightly overwhelmed look on Killian's face. "I think we'll have plenty of time for all of that," she said softly, looking at Killian, who smiled at her. "It's been a long couple of days," she said quieter, her smile faltering a little with it. Killian was the only one who seemed to catch the emotion packed behind her words, and she saw his brows dip in concern.

"I thought I was going to teach Henry to swordfight," muttered David, looking at Mary Margaret, who whispered a, "Not now." Her phone suddenly went off on the kitchen island, and she walked away to pick up the call.

David stepped up, not-so-subtely puffing his chest and crossing his arms, staring firmly at Killian. "So, Hook," he said, lacking the glare he'd worn yesterday in Killian's presence, but looking like it was taking about everything in him not to. "You'll be sticking around town, then?"

Killian's eyes slowly shifted from Emma's to David's, and Emma watched the slightest hesitance in his eyes. But it wasn't because he was intimidated by David the Prince…

He was suddenly intimidated by David the father.

And the fact that he seemed to care now how David saw him made a warmth settle into Emma's chest, somewhere that used to only be cold and hollow.

"Aye," said Killian slowly. "I am."

"Well…" David drew out, looking from Emma to Killian, sighing something weary. But he sighed, dropping his crossed arms to slip them into his pockets instead, trading an intimidating posture for something more casual, and he said, "Welcome to Storybrooke, then."

Emma felt like she and Killian relaxed as one, and she tried to hide the smile at David's attempt at being friendly.

Mary Margaret approached them again, phone in hand, a furrow in her brow. "That was Leroy," she said to them. "Apparently Regina called for a town meeting at City Hall."

Henry's exuberance toward Killian fell from his face, something attentive and a different sort of eagerness trading places with it. "My mom?" he said hollowly.

"A good meeting?" asked Emma, her own brows kneading. Because she certainly couldn't take another crisis.

With a sigh, Mary Margaret shrugged. "I guess we're about to find out."

They all left the apartment, heading down the stairs, Emma and Killian behind her parents.

And Emma felt Killian's fingers slide in-between hers, and she smiled, the last of the panic from her dreams washing away like rain.

-.-.-.-.

Killian had not lied to Emma—last night had been long.

Sleep had been hard to come by; flashes of seeing Emma on the floor of that apartment, lying at the Crocodile's mercy blended into an age-old nightmare of being tied to his own mast in utter helplessness…

He hadn't been riddled with dreams like that since the first few years after Milah's death.

Needless to say, he needed to see Emma the moment dawn broke, to make sure his nightmares were just that; dreams.

And the fact that the moment she'd seen him, she looked just as excited, just as relieved, to see him as he was her…

It was something he bloody cherished.

City Hall was filled with nearly the whole town by the time Emma, Killian and Henry, David and Mary Margaret walked inside, standing at the back. As they entered, a few of the people noticed them—and noticed him.

At the sight of him, he saw several of them tense, some glare.

Killian felt himself tense.

The eyes lingered on Killian apprehensively, and Hook felt Emma tense a little as she noticed the reaction to him as well. For a moment, he braced himself for her to drop his hand, but instead, her fingers tightened around his, and she straightened a little, pulling him closer to her side.

And in that moment, Killian nearly forgot how to breathe.

She kept choosing him.

Over and over and over.

He looked at her then, the other people forgotten, seeing her already looking at him, such an easy smile at her lips. Something free and so unguarded. It wasn't the woman he'd met in the Enchanted Forest. But she hasn't changed; this washer.

Beneath her walls and her fear and her pain.

The pure innocence that lay underneath her armor was more beautiful than anything he's ever laid eyes on.

And he would protect it, her, for as long as he lived.

A cleared throat cut through the murmur of the crowd, belonging to Regina, who was standing at the front of the room, seeming uncomfortable for once. "Thank you all for… coming," she said, as if the words were a little forced. Silence fell, however, curiosity winning everyone over. "I'm sure by now you're all aware of what transpired between the Charmings and my… mother," she said a little awkwardly. "The return of my mother's heart…" Her voice seemed to catch a little, gracing her face with the hint of a pure smile. "She isn't the same woman you all feared." she added, softer.

At her words, a plume of smoke appeared at her side, revealing Cora beside her.

The reaction from the people was instant; flinches, gasps, and fear grasped the room in a grip that was palpable.

Killian felt Emma's fingers tighten around his reflexively, just as he did hers.

Cora winced at the reaction, looking genuinely upset, guilty by it.

Killian understood the feeling.

"It's okay," said Regina, looking just as unsettled by the reaction. "We're here to tell you all that… we don't want to instill fear anymore." A murmur of disbelief. Regina sighed, taking a breath as if to steady herself. "And… I'm here to do something I never thought I would do." She gave another sigh. "As of this moment," she said heavily, "I am abdicating the throne, both here in Storybrooke… and in the Enchanted Forest."

The sheer disbelief rushed through the crowd like a gust of wind, and Killian felt his brows shoot up with surprise, meeting Emma's identical shock.

"I would like to give this power back to its… rightful heir," she said, just as heavily, her eyes settling on Mary Margaret, whose face was whiter than her namesake. "Snow White." finished Regina.

Mary Margaret blinked in utter shock, matching nearly everyone else in the room, as well as David, standing frozen at her side.

"You—you what?" breathed Mary Margaret.

Regina approached her then, walking across the room, stopping in front of her, her eyes shifting to Henry, who was standing at Mary Margaret's other side, his jaw hanging open.

"I just want my family," said Regina softly, eyes finding Henry. "Henry, and my mother…" Looking at Mary Margaret, she said, "I thought… power could fill the void inside me. But… love did." And swallowing hard, shutting her eyes before opening them to say, "After talking with my mother, I… I understand that she put you in a… manipulated position. And… I don't want to be angry anymore. At anyone." The room was pin-silent. And with an even heavier breath, Regina said, "I… absolve you, Snow."

Mary Margaret was a statue.

Until Henry broke the spell on the room, and he grabbed Regina in a tight hug. "I knew there was good in you," he whispered, smiling, a tear falling down his cheek.

Regina let out a little gasp at his affection, a tear falling down her own cheek as she bent to hug him back, shutting her eyes. "Henry," she whispered. "You forgive me?"

"Of course I do," he said through his smile. "You're my mom."

Regina hugged him tighter, smiling even wider.

Regina pulled back, and looked toward Cora, who had hesitantly approached, watching them with tears in her own eyes.

Regina stood, hand on Henry's shoulder, swallowing emotions before she said, "Henry… this is my mother. Your… grandmother," she said with a smile. "Mother, this is… my son," she whispered. "This is Henry."

Cora approached Henry hesitantly, smiling something genuine. "Henry," she said gently.

Henry looked from Emma, Mary Margaret, and Regina, to Cora. Then he smiled and said, "Hi, Grandma."

A little gasp escaped Cora at the word, and before she could respond, Henry hugged her. She froze with surprise for a moment before slowly reciprocating, however tentatively.

Mary Margaret looked from Regina, Cora and Henry, to the rest of the room. People she was just seeming to realize were finally hers to lead.

Clearing her throat a little, she stood a little straighter. "Well," she said, exchanging a look with David and Emma, she said, "I'll gladly take my place as your Queen. And… mayor," she added, a little awkwardly.

Smiles erupted around the room, and Mary Margaret returned them with her own, and she and David walked to the front of the room.

"I've always been here for you all," said Mary Margaret, "but to do so unopposed…" Color touched her cheeks. "I'm honored." Exchanging a look with David, she said, "David and I will lead you all in this new era of peace, and of harmony," she said with a grin. "The realms have been freed of the Darkness, in every context of the word." she went on. "It's time for us all to start fresh."

"So it's really true?" came a voice from the crowd—one of the Dwarves. "Gold is really dead?"

Killian felt Emma flinch at the mention.

His fingers tightened around hers.

"He is," confirmed David. "And it's…" He hesitated, like his voice caught on the words, but he said anyway, "And it's thanks to… Hook."

Eyes suddenly turned to Killian, skepticism in many faces.

"Gold… tried to kill Emma," said David with difficulty, his own expression faltering, and Emma shifted uncomfortably at Killian's side. "Hook saved her, and in turn… all of us."

Killian felt a discomfort, an unfamiliarity, rise with the spotlight, but his own shock competed with it.

Because David, the man who had wanted to kill him only yesterday, was defending him, in front of the entire town.

Emma smiled at Killian, looking just as touched by her father's gesture.

"There's something else, too," said Mary Margaret. "We've kept it under wraps due to… previous events," she said awkwardly, "but our new friend Anton has been harvesting magic beans in Storybrooke." A few gasps echoed around the room. "The first two beans will be ready any day now. Those who want to return to the Enchanted Forest and rebuild your homes will be welcome to, and those who want to stay here are just as welcome."

Smiles and exclamations of joy erupted through the people, given hope for the first time in decades.

"The Curse is broken," said Mary Margaret, "and it's time for everyone to get their happy ending. It's all thanks to Emma, our Savior, and our princess," she said, turning her gaze to Emma, who suddenly looked uncomfortable with the attention. A little color touched her cheeks, and Killian felt her subtly shift a little closer to him.

"You did it!" exclaimed Henry with a wide grin toward Emma. "You brought back the happy endings!"

"Long live Queen Snow!" bellowed Leroy, standing and clapping.

The rest of the crowd rose with the same words, and Mary Margaret looked utterly over the moon, David just as happy at her side.

After the meeting, the town adjourned to Granny's, celebrating Mary Margaret and David and the prospect of returning home until the daylight began to fade. Regina and Cora left with Henry, who was going to stay the night with them and for the three of them to spend time together. Yet Regina had lingered before they left, gaze hesitantly on Emma's, as if an unspoken ask of permission.

One that Emma met with a true smile, that Regina genuinely returned.

Most of the night had Emma's parents mingling with the town, making plans, discussing their future in the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke, all the things they wanted to do. They didn't, however, seem to notice that Emma was not exactly all right.

Emma had remained at his side, fingers interlocked with his all day long. Several of the townsfolk approached her to thank her for her part in their newfound peace, something she didn't seem to know what to do with. She was quiet most of the afternoon, and every sudden noise near her—the clang of silverware or something of the sort—made her flinch a little, startling her. And Killian felt his chest twist, flashing back to when she'd been crumpled on the floor of that apartment at the demon's mercy, not even forty-eight hours ago.

Killian has had his fair share of traumatic events—his and Liam's abandonment, losing his hand and Milah—and he'd had his own trouble the weeks, and even months that followed them. It surprised him in a horribly sad way, just how little Emma's parents seemed to think of what she'd just been through.

So when Emma flinched at a sound for a third time, Killian leaned over her shoulder, saying softly, "May I take you somewhere?" He attempted a smile, but his concern for her couldn't take the slight crease out of his brows.

Emma looked at him, like she was torn from thoughts that Killian didn't have to guess were about, and she smiled, giving him a little nod.

And he returned her smile, gently pulling her with him, away from the crowd. They passed Mary Margaret and David on their way out, tearing their attention from their conversation with a few of the townsfolk. "Emma?" said Mary Margaret, like she'd forgotten she was here. "You're leaving?"

"Leaving… to go somewhere together?" said David in a tight voice. "Alone? Just the two of you?"

Mary Margaret slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand, just smiling at Emma who had cut David off with a "Byee," and left with Killian.

David looked at Mary Margaret with an expression that looked pained. "Alone?" he repeated to her.

"She's twenty-eight, David," muttered Mary Margaret half-heartedly.

"But with Hook?" His voice rose two octaves. At her look, he said, "I know, he saved her, twice, I know, but…" His face only grew more pained. "Did it have to be a pirate?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "I was a bandit," she said dully. At his face— "What?"

-.-.-.

The sun was just beginning to set by the time Killian had led her to his destination. The entire walk there, Emma had only asked, "Where are we going?" once, just to get his response of, "You'll see," which made her smile something genuine.

It was the first time they were alone since last night and it wasn't lost on either of them. Their hands were still intertwined as they'd been all day, but they gravitated even closer to each other now, their arms brushing, and the same magnetism that had grown between them only seemed to intensify.

It was when they reached the docks that Emma said, "Your ship?" she asked.

"There's something I'd like you to see." he said. At her confusion, with a little wink to her, he said, "Trust me, Emma."

Those words had set her immediately on edge when he'd said them on the Beanstalk, and now made her smile, and seem to do just that.

His ship itself still wasn't visible, thanks to Cora's cloaking spell, but Killian smoothly found his gangplank and led her in behind him. The sun was setting now, the orange rays bathing the ship in a glow that could only be called incandescent. As Killian led her on board, he saw her eyes widen at the sight of it, and it made an involuntary smile tilt his lips. Emma had been in so much pain when she'd been here last that she had her eyes shut for most of the time Killian had carried her from his cabin to the hospital. She was seeing the ship for the first time, and Killian was touched at her genuine reaction, the wonder in her eyes that nearly matched Henry's when he'd first been aboard. Killian sure knew where the lad got it from.

Emma's eyes held a curiosity and an awe that displayed every bit of the innocent heart of hers that she'd hidden away for so long. And it stunned Killian for a moment, just how childlike, how sweet her true spirit was. And how heartbreaking it was that she had stifled it for so long, had been so afraid to be who she truly was. Her true spirit was like a breath of fresh air, and it stirred something in him, something so similar, something he hasn't felt for centuries. For so long, his life had just been bitterness and resentment.

Emma had brought him back to life in more ways than one, and they both seemed to be finding their ways back to themselves, together.

Killian whispered a "Wait here," over her shoulder, and gently pulled his fingers from hers. It seemed to snap her out of the trance, and she looked at him, but he just smiled reassuringly, and went off to adjusting the ropes, preparing the ship. He refused Emma's help when she offered, and he could have sworn he heard her mutter something half-heartedly, something sounding like gentleman.

But soon, he'd set sail, sailing away from the coast a ways, dropping anchor when land was a shadow in the distance. He found Emma portside, looking out over the waves. He approached her, seeing an ease in her face, the same he always felt himself as he'd watch the water. It was his own sense of comfort, something he's relied on more times than he could count, one of the few things that has felt like home.

But looking at her now brought the same feeling, this sort of anchor that he's never felt before. He simply watched her for a moment, the breeze shifting the hair over her shoulder, and hell he's never seen anyone more beautiful.

He approached her, stepping up to her side, watching the waves himself. She smiled at his nearness, her smile so easy. And he matched it, taking her hand at the same time she reached for his, and he whispered, "Turn around, love."

She did, seeing him first, but when he gestured over his shoulder, he watched her eyes take in the sight with a little gasp.

On the other side of the ship, the sun was sitting at the horizon where the water met the sky, and the brilliance of the sunset reflected off the waves, cascading toward the ship. The water sparkled with the light in a way that didn't even look real.

"It's beautiful," said Emma, eyes lighting just as bright as the sun.

"Aye," he agreed softly, eyes on her.

Emma walked to the other side of the ship, pulling him with her, making him laugh a little at her insistence to get a better look. Her free hand rested on the rail when she reached it, absolute awe in her eyes. They watched the waves in the sunlight for a moment, just basking in the quiet moment.

"I always find the sea to bring a sense of calm," he said quietly. "Especially so in my most… trying times."

She smiled, letting out a breath that seemed like a breeze of personified relief, like she more than agreed. But she caught what his words meant, his intention for bringing her here, and she smiled a little more, something coloring her cheeks, as if she was touched he noticed.

And he only smiled more, because his plan seemed to have worked, for the tension she had carried all day had vanished.

"Thank you, Killian." she said softly.

The sound of his name sent a skip in his heart, as it has every time she's used it. He had no idea how much he'd missed being called his given name, and would never stop being touched at the fact that she saw him.

With a smile, Killian gently guided her to sit beside him on the ledge behind them, one that was weathered from centuries of musing over a million sleepless nights. He wrapped his hooked arm around her, pulling her closer, their hands still clasped over his thigh. And he felt shift even closer, laying her head to rest on his shoulder. His eyes shut at the feeling, at how right it felt. They watched the sun dip lower and lower, casting orange rays over them both until it disappeared below the horizon. They were quiet, simply enjoying each other's company, and Killian knew with a certainty that he could stay here with her forever.

The moon replaced the sun as they watched, shining brightly with the light of a million stars in the sky above them.

His eyes fell to Emma, her eyes on the stars like she'd never seen them before, and he kissed her hair. "Make a wish, love."

But she smiled at his kiss, saying softly, "You're already here."

The warmth that touched his chest was like none other, and he felt frozen for a moment with her words, touched beyond words.

"I've never seen stars like this before," said Emma softly. "Or, I guess I never… looked."

He smiled, brushing his fingers over her hair, saying, "They're almost as beautiful as you."

And it was her turn to blush, a little color touching her cheeks in the moonlight, like she wasn't used to hearing such words.

Something he was going to have to remedy.

"As a young sailor…" he said softly, the words eased out of him, words he's never said aloud, not even to Milah. "It was my dream to sail every sea, walk the lands of every realm, chart the stars of every sky." With a breath, his voice softened, brows kneaded a little. It's been centuries since he'd dreamed. After so long chasing his revenge, fury and pain had erased desire. He'd been numb, been empty nearly his entire life.

But his eyes fell to Emma, feeling his brows ease and his lips tilt, feeling those dreams rekindle, as well as new ones, all with her at his side.

Emma's fingers played with his a little as she watched the stars, musing, "I always wanted to see the world, too."

He brushed his thumb over her hand, smiling at the words as he said, "When the beans are ready… I'd like to see it with you, love."

Emma lifted her head off his shoulder, looking at him. "See the world?" she echoed softly.

"Aye," he said with a wider grin. "There are beautiful lands I've seen and many I've only heard of."

A glint of excitement jumped into her eyes, brighter than the stars.

"The lad is welcome to join, if he'd like, of course," said Killian, honesty in the words that seemed to touch Emma even more.

"Are you kidding? He'll love it," she said with a grin of her own.

His brow raised a little, at what sounded like her acceptance. "You'd like that?" he breathed.

As an answer, Emma kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking him by surprise with her passion. He met her emotion, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he smiled through the kiss, never having felt anything like her before.

They broke the kiss after a moment, just looking at each other, mirroring their joy, and Emma said, "I'd love that." And she settled herself back on his shoulder, even closer to him than she was before, humming a little with either relief or happiness, and it sent a rush of feeling down Killian's spine.

"These lands you've been to," said Emma. "Tell me about them."

And, Killian's eyes on the stars, he softly told her of some of his travels, adventures that made Emma's smile grow, and Killian felt that age-old sense of freedom at his old wanderlust that had apparently never left him. And Emma was suddenly speaking some of her own, of a few of the places she'd run away to, places she'd coined��Boston and California, things she's seen, things she's always wanted to do.

At one point, she'd told him of a heist of hers, and at his interest had her smiling. At his raised brow, she lifted the fingers of her free hand, wearing one of his rings on her thumb. He hadn't felt her take a bloody thing. She laughed at his surprise, and it had skipped his heart, hearing it.

Her laugh sounded like freedom.

Seconds later, she was lifting his own hand to him, the ring back on his finger as if it had never moved, her sleight-of-hand a magic all on its own. And she was smiling, something part amusement and part mischief and he couldn't help himself, telling her she'd make a fine pirate.

She didn't disagree.

And he found himself falling for her, more and more and more.

The more she told him, the more he wanted to know.

Bloody gods, he wanted to know everything about her.

He was softly telling her of his time on one of the many seas he'd traversed when he felt her weight deepen into him a little, and he looked down, seeing her eyes shut, feeling her breathe gently.

She was asleep.

He felt his breath catch.

It would never, ever, cease to amaze him that he's managed to gain her trust to such an extent.

He watched her sleep, memorizing the moment until he felt his own tiredness.

And, gently, he gathered her in his arms, careful not to wake her. She didn't, and he carried her gently to his cabin, laying her in his bed. The last time he'd done so had been when she was hurt. This time, however, there was a little tilt to her lips, an ease to her sleep.

An ease he somehow managed to elicit.

It made him smile.

He grabbed a few spare blankets, laying them out on the floor beside her. The desire to hold her was blinding, but it was still Emma, and he wouldn't dream of pushing her comfort zone. Just being near her was enough for him.

-.-.-.

Emma's eyes fluttered open, seeing the outline of Killian in the moonlight, pulling a blanket over her. It took her a moment to recognize his cabin.

She blinked sleepily, realizing that he had laid her on his bed.

He froze a little when he realized he'd woken her, and she saw his soft, hesitant smile. He began to straighten, and Emma saw a blanket laid on the floor beside the bed, as if for him. He'd already taken off his coat, and Emma realized he'd also taken off his hook.

Emma's hand caught his wrist before he could move away, and she kneaded her brows. "What are you doing?" she mumbled sleepily.

He smiled, moving a strand of her hair over her face. He kissed her cheek. "You fell asleep," he said, like he found it cute.

Emma blinked. The last thing she remembered was listening to him, trying to keep her eyes open, because she didn't want to miss a word, every one making her fall for him more.

But it appeared she had fallen asleep.

Which made her pause.

She slept.

No nightmares.

Just… peace.

And she had a good feeling why.

But something unsure jumped into his eyes, and he swallowed before saying, "I can take you home, if you'd rather I—"

"I meant, what are you doing with that," she mumbled instead, gesturing to the blanket on the floor.

He hesitated a little, saying, "I…"

But she shifted over, tugging a little on his wrist toward her, her eyes on his, permission shining through.

And he stared at her, like he didn't understand.

Not what he read in her eyes, but the fact that he was reading it.

"Are… are you sure?" he asked, voice even more hesitant, but backed with a hope.

Emma answered with another tug on his wrist, freeing a surprised, touched chuckle from Killian's chest.

And slowly, so tentatively, Killian got into bed beside her.

His warmth hit her immediately, his scent enveloping her even more, but none of it was a match for the sheer safeness his presence instilled in her, wrapping her in it like a blanket all on its own.

She could feel him unsure, like he didn't want to push her, and she smiled at it. He understood her, he knew her, and he respected her fears.

Fears that Emma no longer wanted to cower from.

Not with him.

So she shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around him, as close as she could get. She shut her eyes, such a strong feeling of right washing through her as she rested her head over his chest.

And he stilled for a moment with surprise, obviously not expecting her to be so trusting, not like this. But, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her as well, pulling her even closer to him, and Emma felt herself sigh with relief.

"Goodnight, Killian," whispered Emma sleepily, already feeling herself drifting.

She felt him kiss her hair, whispering just as softly, "Goodnight, Emma."

And she fell asleep, wrapped in his arms, drifting into sleep.

Dreamless, peaceful, restful sleep, with a smile still on her lips.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dawn was just beginning to shine through the night, casting a faded ray of morning onto the sign, reading Welcome to Storybrooke.

A car pulled up to it, arriving in town, stopping at the sign.

The driver's door opened, and the driver stepped out, approaching the sign, holding something up next to it, comparing it.

A postcard.

With a sigh, he lowered the postcard, turning toward the town that was visible now, that hadn't been the few yards before the town line.

He got back in the car, putting the postcard back on the passenger seat, next to the only other two things he brought with him.

A keychain.

And a cane.

With a weary breath, Neal Cassidy put the car back into gear, and began to drive into the sleepy little town.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

a/n: *insert awkward-smile emoticon here*

Y'all wanted Neal to come to town lol. Emotional chaos shall ensue.

Hope you guys liked Regina's abdicating the throne to Snow - it was something I really wanted to do for them :) And the romantic in me just loves the idea of Killian and Emma going on some adventures before settling down, because god knows those two need to have some fun. So I hope you guys like the idea of it too. However we have some things to take care of before they get there, cough, Neal's arrival, cough, so stay tuned lol... xD

I'm gonna take a week or so off this story before working on it again so the next update might be a few weeks, but it will be coming as soon as my muse allows it :)

thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed! :)

~cosette141

tag list: @teamhook @jrob64 @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @fleurdepetite @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper @confessionsofthemword @sotangledupinit

[darkcolinodonorgasm]

All right fellow LOTR nerd, what is this Not All Who Wander Are Lost?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaa my babyyyyyyyyy!

Okay, excitement aside, thank you for asking abou it! I love that WIP, though I’m a bit of a snail - or sloth, rather - and I don’t know when it’ll see the light.

That one is a s2 canon divergence, but also an AU with loads of headcanons. Actually, I don’t know how to define it, really. It took me so much to outline the backstory of the “past” because it’s full of time travel and memory tampering I actually found myself doing this at one point:

Sooooo much work, and even though I have a knack for understanding timelines - or at least I try to give a logical explaination - what I had to do was a mess xD I had it in mind because I loved Chris’ arc on Charmed and wondered what would happen if something like that happened on OUAT, but of course, with a twist of sorts.

Anyway, basically, it starts during 201 with a time portal nobody notices because MAGIC IS COMING!!! and who crosses the time portal is a boy from the future! The first chapters deal of how he settles into Storybrooke just after the curse is broken and Emma and Mary Margaret find themselves in the Enchanted Forest.

And after, well, I don’t want to spoil anything, because if you can understand who the boy is, I want to keep a secret on the rest.

Ah, I forgot to mention: with it being a canon complaint/fix-it, some people will just… stay evil. I’m not even sorry lol

As for the LOTR influence… ah, god, I don’t want to spoil anything for now, but there’s much of it in this fic.

*wink wink wink*

Since I’m being so secretive about this, you’ll even get a sneak peek:

Despitebeing trained to sustain long distances, his muscles started to ache, painbarely bothering him that rarely prevented him to run as fast as the wind. Sometimes,his father joked, saying that he was the JollyRoger incarnated, the fastest runner in all the realms.

His lovefor running didn’t diminish his love for the sea, not at all, in fact, theyboth coexisted in harmony. He loved to take their ship out at sea with hisfather and siblings, or even just his dad and himself, especially when hisfather had to make him understand that he mustn’t answer provocations at schoolwith violence – although he knew his father was proud, not that he would everadmit it – or that he shouldn’t feel alone and that he could always, alwayscount on him.

Jump, he thought, recognising the area he was in,remembering the first time he’d faced that jump, falling on the ground andtwisting his ankle. That was one of the injuries his mother hadn’t cured, mostlybecause he hadn’t listened to her and had tried to jump without waiting for herto be on the other side or to show him how to do it.

Now,though, he was a pro – okay, he landed on his feet more times than he fell, hestill hadn’t improved his technique yet – and he knew where to leap off theground, how much push he needed and where was the branch. That was important.

One, as the portal that caused troubles.

Two, as the heroes whose names he bore, althoughthey were three, and of the third one he had his blood and surname.

Three, as the True Love’s Kisses Storybrooke hadwitnessed.

[captainswanbigbang]

CSBB Author Spotlight: Swanslieutenant

Today’s Captain Swan Big Bang Spotlight features @swanslieutenant!

How long have you been writing for the OUAT fandom? Did you write anything else (original or fan fiction) before joining the OUAT fandom?

Since about S2, but not everything has been posted. I used to write for HP and I have always been a writer of original stuff too.

What sort of fic do you like to write? What sort of fic do you like to read?

Write = angsty AUs, AUs off other shows, funny one shots

Read = canon divergences, AUs

Besides your Big Bang fic, do you have anything else in the works?

Still working away at "A Place in Time"! 

If you participated in the Captain Swan Big Bang or Little Bang before, what was the experience like for you? What are you looking forward to this time around?

Fun! A lot of pressure, but I enjoyed it. This time I'm excited to really craft an idea from the beginning, one that isn't inspired by another show 

What is your favorite fic you’ve written for OUAT?

A Place in Time (ao3). It's so complicated and twisted I like coming up with the plot lines and the character roles. Also why it takes me so long to update

Check out @swanslieutenant on ao3 - Tumblr!

[sotangledupinit]

Hey OUAT fandom, is it too late to request a fic? Lmao

Because honestly, I’m really interested in how a canon divergence story would go IF instead of Captain Hook being introduced in the Enchanted Forest as a villain in s2, he’s instead still in Neverland.

Now here me out!!!

What if not long after Hook betrays Bae and gives him over to Pan before leaving Neverland, he feels the guilt over it consume him greater than his thirst for revenge. And he realizes the best way to avenge Milah is by giving up his revenge and taking care of Bae. So he ditches his crew and heads BACK to Neverland EXCEPT!! Bae has already left by then. Now Hook is trapped in Neverland without a crew, all alone, with no way out, and forced to do Pan’s bidding.

And one day, Pan tells him that he needs to pick up something that’ll arrive on the shores soon. And it’s Greg and Tamara with Henry. Hook realizes something is not right and he will not let another innocent child go into Pan’s clutches. So he takes Henry and basically tries to hide him away from Pan and save him. And the two of them bond and Hook tells Henry about another boy he knew (Bae) and how he failed him but he won’t fail Henry, and Henry starts to call him Killian and they just become super close in a super short period of time.

THEN Emma, Regina, Snow, Charming, and Rumple show up and they originally see Hook as a villain, because Pan feeds them that line and about how Hook stole Henry and obviously especially with Rumple there to fuel it, no one trusts Hook. So they try to capture him/kill him and they almost succeed until Henry steps in and saves Killian.

That’s about where my inspiration runs out but it’d still lead to Captain Swan and have a ton of Captain Cobra awesomeness within.

If anyone wants to write it, I’d love you forever. 🥺

[tomeandflickcorner]

I was taken by surprise at how much I enjoy the Mad Beauty storyline in your ouat fic series, and would love to know more! What made you decide to include that ship, and when did you first get the idea to put that pairing together?

Well, admittedly, it really all started with this post:

 http://tomeandflickcorner.tumblr.com/post/141693989668/unlikely-ships-ouat-edition

So, it wasn’t exactly something I came up on my own.  That ship came to my attention when I saw someone elsle’s post.  (Sadly, I can’t remember who it was, so I can’t give them credit.)  Of course, Mad Beauty was, at first, just a ‘wouldn’t that be interesting’ sort of ship for me.  But as time went on, and the more I thought about the possibility, the more it made sense.

So, when it came time to start writing Rash Defamation, I suddenly realized that, hey, this was a canon divergence piece.  I could do whatever I wanted with it.  So why not bring back Jefferson?  After all, I’ve been wondering for a long time what had became of him after S2.  While I knew Sebastian Stan couldn’t really come back because of his work with the Marvel movies, it would have been nice to have him be mentioned from time to time.  Or even have Grace hanging out with Henry after school.  And so, I decided to make him a part of my story.  Once I decided to do that, it suddenly dawned on me that I could not only make Jefferson and Killian buddies (because I totally could see them becoming mates if they met in canon) I could make Mad Beauty a reality.

[snowbellewells]

“Always Running”

Here’s the second “Once Upon a Time” story I ever wrote.  Once again, this is general cast of characters; mostly focusing on Ruby and a bit of her friendship with Snow.  It’s been pretty fun really digging back into my earliest OuaT fic writings lately.  Whoever started the whole #ouat fandom crescendo idea off - I’m really digging it! :).  Hope you all are having fun reading!  Tomorrow will be the first official CS ff I ever wrote, set on the way to Neverland…

Some of this obviously might not quite fit in with canon, but I still think it deals with some realistic and interesting feelings and motives for Ruby/Red’s character. I’d say it fits in somewhere between “Children of the Moon” and “The Outsider” during season two, but has some definite AU elements as well.

 “Always Running”

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

             Run, run, run!... Faster…please…If I can just get as far away from here as possible… Her feet pound on the hard soil, branches whip through her long, dark hair and claw at her face as she flies in fear from the temptation to destroy.  She is panting, her heart racing, senses fully aware of the stench of terror and blood on the stormy night wind.  Only moments ago, everything had been perfect – blissfully so – she and Peter alone together under a gorgeous, full moon, making plans for the rest of their lives together, once she got him through this night.  Now, Red finds herself running like a startled rabbit or a leaf before a maelstrom.  Still, no matter how quickly she flees, it will never be swift enough to leave behind what she has done.

           She is the wolf!  How did she not know?!  So many things make sense now – now that it is too late.  It is suddenly clear why she has always been able to separate and follow certain scents, the way she hears things no one else can, why it has never frightened her to wander into the woods, even when the other children won’t.  Peter often says…

           Peter!  His name: the name she has called on since they were six years old and catching frogs in the creek or fetching kindling for his father’s forge; suddenly, it stabs a knife to the very core of her heart.  Vines and needled brush rip at her bare hands and catch at her skirt and cloak, her breath grows ragged – a sharp, aching pain settling under her ribs – but Red continues to race further into the black of night and the forest’s depths.  Images of his adoring gaze, his messy, tufted, black hair standing up in cowlicks he could never tame, his strong hands and warm smile, all flash through her mind in dizzying succession, battering her with the fleeting idyll their growing up together and brief young love had been. Peter has always been with her, for as long as she can remember.  What will she do now that he is gone?  How can she live with herself?  It’s all her fault.  She is the wolf!  The man she loves is dead, and she killed him!

           Red wonders if she will ever stop running now.  With what she has done, she will never belong anywhere, never be able to rest.  She cannot return to her sleepy little village, where her neighbors are still hunting the wolf, where she has lived a lie with her granny, where she played and snuck kisses and dreamed dreams with Peter and will now see his absence everywhere.

           The past hour still replays in vicious detail, looping through her mind. Peter’s trusting face resurfaces continually.  He let her chain him to a tree, thinking that she could keep him from turning into the dreaded monster.  Instead, she sentenced him to death and led him like a lamb to the slaughter.  It is too much to be forced to relive: hearing him beg for recognition, and then the animal growl in her other form’s throat, her reasoning mind not housed in the savage, primal body that stalked toward the boy she loves without care for his pleas.  She ripped him apart, and knows she will never have peace from the lurid, unsettling memories.

           Eventually even supernatural endurance runs out, and Red falls to the wet, mossy ground, panting, curling into a ball and feeling tears wet her cheeks, neck, and chest as they pour silent and unchecked from her eyes.  If she were in her lupine form, she would be howling to the remorseless moon, cursed not by her werewolf other half, but by the knowledge of it which has come too late.  The moonlight bathes her pale skin, giving it an otherworldly glow, beautiful even in her sorrow.  Anyone who could see her would wish to hold her, to comfort her, but the only arms she longs for are gone now, never to return…

~0~                 ~0~                             ~0~                             ~0~                 ~0~                 ~0~

Sometime later, in Storybrooke, Maine…

           Each morning when Ruby Lucas wakes in her little apartment above Granny’s diner, she stares out the window peacefully for just a moment, letting herself bask happily in the dawn of a new day’s sun, smiling at its warmth on her face, stretching her arms above her head, working the kinks from her back and relishing the few blissful seconds of still-sleepy haze before it all returns to her. She does not get long until she remembers that she is also Red Riding Hood – and a werewolf – and though she lives in a town full of real-life fairy tale characters, True Love’s Kiss, and magical adventure, her handsome prince will never ride up to find her on his gleaming white horse; she lost her chance for a happily ever after long ago.

           Once that all floods back into her memory, there is nothing for Ruby to do but turn from the morning light at the window and dress for the day before heading down to the diner to work.  Wearing red, as she never fails to do, Ruby sighs, not sure if she means it as a warning sign or some sort of penitent self-reprisal.  She knows this day too will be the same as the day before and the endless procession of days to come.  She was once so blissfully naïve – still a little girl really, in her former existence – and unaware of the beast which had been lurking within all the time. Now that Emma has broken the curse, Ruby knows that people look at her as some sort of confusing curiosity. Those who knew her in their real home, as Red, cannot understand where the brazen, flirtatious, outrageously dressed siren of Storybrooke comes from, but Ruby doesn’t have the heart to explain. She isn’t so sure it can be explained, even if she were to try.  That carefree, innocent young girl in love is gone; she isn’t that sweet youth roaming the fields and meadows with her childhood best friend and sweetheart anymore.  She can never be that person again, and it feels to her that outwardly she shouldn’t pretend.  The difference needs to be clear, so that some other poor victim doesn’t get too close.

           Thank goodness for Granny – and even more for Snow!  Now that she knows Mary Margaret again for her long-lost friend, she is grateful for the other woman’s constancy and acceptance.  Snow did not abandon her on that horrible night Peter died, nor has she anytime since.  Snow had gotten her moving again, arm around her quaking shoulders in the darks woods so long ago, before the mob could catch her.  The two of them had found a cabin far out on its own, just as they had talked about, where both of them could hide away.  Sometimes, she still has to get away – to escape, to run – when she is afraid of herself and what she might do, as well as what she has already done. Those are the times when she heads for the woods on the edge of town, intending to shift and then run until she is so exhausted she couldn’t hurt the tiniest kitten.  Only then does she return, often to Mary Margaret’s apartment where she falls into an overstuffed chair next to her old friend, accepts the hot cocoa offered her, and marvels at the fact that Mary Margaret, her friend Snow White, doesn’t flinch at all despite what she knows, but instead picks bits of leaves and twigs out of her hair and listens to her countless fears and worries of what could happen if she ever slips again.  This comfort and companionship reminds her that they were happy once before as well, in their little cabin in the wild, until Charming, the Evil Queen, King George, and then the curse, brought the rest of the world right onto their doorstep.

           Ruby tries to push it all from her mind as she reaches her post behind the counter of the diner, ready for Leroy wanting his sausage and hash browns, Archie hoping for some French toast before he sees any patients for the day, and Emma coming in to pick up doughnuts for herself and David at the station.  Ruby squares her shoulders, ties on her miniscule apron, and aims to start fresh on this new day.  Granny passes by on her way to start a fresh pot of coffee brewing, and pats her kindly on the shoulder, as if knowing the thoughts that are circling in her granddaughter’s head.  The little smile the older woman graces her with seems to say, “Keep your chin up.”

           Also trying not to watch the clock creep from one endless minute to the next, Ruby refills several earlier guests’ mugs and glances out the window at the main street.  Just then, the glint of early morning sunlight on the metallic paint of an old pick-up truck which has just parked outside catches her eye.  Knowing pretty much every person in town – and what they drive – the unfamiliar vehicle arrests her attention.

           That intrigue only grows when a tall, dark-headed stranger wearing deep-tinted aviator sunglasses, a beat-up denim jacket, and work boots gets out and heads up the walk, through their door, and right to the counter where she stands waiting.  Ruby knows that she has never seen him before, but his mischievous, crooked smile envelopes her in his friendly mirth as if they are old friends.  Something familiar twinkles in his eyes and makes her stomach clench strangely, heart lurching into her throat as he takes off the shades and tucks the earpiece into his breast pocket.  It’s a feeling she has almost forgotten – that she has spent ages trying to forget – telling herself she will never be able to experience it again. And yet, she can’t help smiling back welcomingly, suddenly hoping that he won’t walk away.

           Granted, there aren’t usually newcomers to Storybrooke, but Emma came, and that has more than turned out alright.  Ruby finds that at this moment, she doesn’t even care where he is from, as long as he stays, talks to her, keeps smiling at her the way he is right now. “Welcome to Granny’s Diner,” she greets brightly.  “I’m Ruby. What can we get for you this morning?”

           “Pete,” he tells her, reaching out to shake hands and kindly pretending not to notice the sharp intake of breath she draws in surprise.  “I hear this is the place to eat, and it’s also where one figures out who’s who and what’s going on in this town.”  He winks at her slyly as he speaks, and Ruby’s poor dusty, disused heart flutters despite her.

           “You heard right,” she manages, flushing prettily as she nods to him, and batting her eyelashes without even realizing it.  She doesn’t want to go against her own rules which she has spent so long telling herself are for the best, but in the wake of this stranger’s charm and inexplicable familiarity, she’s helpless.  “This is the place.”

           “What do you recommend?” he tosses back playfully, and she blinks rapidly, stunned, as that stabbing pain in her heart, the one she has been shrinking from ever since that horrible night so long ago – the night the wolf emerged and Peter was lost – returns.

           “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, backing away from him, not meeting his eyes any longer and looking to the door into the back of the diner.  “I – I can’t…I’m sorry.”  Before he can protest or say anything more, she turns tail and flees for the kitchen.

           Slipping through the door and then leaning back against it to rest her beating heart, she tries to collect herself.  Her pulse is racing, and she forces herself to take several deep breaths. When she finally feels some semblance of calm, she turns to peek around the swinging door back out the way she has come.  Granny is helping the newcomer now, but he sees Ruby over Granny’s shoulder and holds her eyes.  There is something so playful in his gaze when he smirks at her, not letting her get away with hiding from him.  It is warm, comforting, and almost as though she remembers the touch of that gaze from long ago.  He smiles – a dare meant specifically for her.  If she didn’t know better, Ruby would think he knew everything: all her past, who she really is, and that none of it scared him at all.  It should make her want to run, but for some reason – it gives her hope.

           ~0~                 ~0~                             ~0~                             ~0~                 ~0~

           The next night finds her running again, but it is different this time. The light autumn breeze envelopes her like cool silk, ghosting over her skin pleasantly.  Ruby smiles, feeling powerful and in control, and allowing herself to enjoy being one with the night.  She had learned to control the wolf once upon a time long ago; she knows now that she can allow it to have a part is who she is without letting it tearing her in two.  The curse and this strange new land made her doubt her ability to be both safely at first, but both sides of her do still exist, and she must somehow embrace them both.

           She careens through the trees and the open clearings, with neither fatigue nor pain to slow her down, and she doesn’t stop until reaching the stream by the Troll Bridge.  For the first time in what she knows has been an age, she allows herself to feel that she may not always be running alone in the night.  Tipping back her head, Ruby howls with joy instead of pain at that round, white orb in the sky.  Somewhere still under this moon, there may be another who can run beside her.  She may always be running, but she doesn’t have to be running away, running from… Maybe there will at last be something, or someone, she can run to.  

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @flslp87 @captain-swan-coffee @branlovesouat @ilovemesomekillianjones @spartanguard @drowned-dreamer @midnightswans @singingisfun @ps1473-4 @jackieorioncat @blackwidownat2814 @jennjenn615 @lessawildmoon

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: “This Isn’t Everything You Are” by: @totheendoftheworldortime

(I’m not sure about the cover art here - I tried using a different program, and I liked how many pictures it let me use, but I feel like it isn’t as clear. I hope @totheendoftheworldortime​ will still enjoy it at least!!)

I honestly CANNOT BELIEVE I haven’t recc’ed this Season 2 divergent MC before (maybe I have and I just don’t remember). I’ve honestly lost track of how many times I’ve gone back and re-read it - and its sequel “Fallen Empires” - but it’s A LOT of times!  They’re just THAT GOOD!!

If you want to see intense, intriguing, steamy, and satisfying alternate take on what might have happened with Emma and Snow returned from the Enchanted Forest (and if Killian had returned with them instead of with Cora) you HAVE to read this story!  It’s an older story, but definitely one I consider a “classic fave” for a reason!!

Check it out here on Tumblr: “This Isn’t Everything You Are” by: @totheendoftheworldortime

Or on AO3 or ff.net

[snowbellewells]

@cosette141 This chapter was so much rolled into one - and so many surprising developments I could not have foreseen, but which really deepened and added to the richness of the story. The whole opening section was not something I could have even thought of writing, and yet it very much humanized Regina in this version of events, and even Cora to some degree. It’s incredible what a difference having her heart could have made, and it certainly serves to make you wonder how things could have played out from there in canon. (Of course Gold had a contingency plan and ulterior motive in seeing Cora’s heart returned, so she didn’t live long enough to see how in would have gone on the show.) Just one more way you are really spinning something new and different to think about and ponder the what ifs…

It also really worked having that middle section told from Snow’s perspective. She wasn’t present for battle and so her desperation to get to her family and make sure they survived in intense and almost palpable. It really picks up the pace of this section segment. And then the things she notices as she pieces events together allow us as readers to notice them right along with her in a really natural, effective way. I particularly love how she watches David, how she notices Emma and Killian’s closeness, and the trust they show when both had always been so closed off before. It just works really brilliantly!

And then Emma with Killian, her trust in him yes, her happiness, but also her desperate wish not to let him go, not to have it somehow slip away. It’s SO good!!!! 💕💕💕 I just really don’t know how else to say it, other than to squeal over one of several favorite moments: “He held her right back, hand brushing over her hair, and it felt just as safe as it did in the apartment, in New York. She should be afraid of the overwhelming emotion, she should be afraid of how quickly she developed a need for him, but every fear evaporated in his embrace. She smiled against his chest, feeling lighter than she's ever felt before. And she felt him kiss her hair, making her heart jump and her eyes burn a little because no one has ever wanted her like this before.”

Love, love, LOVE- as per usual!!

Begin Again (OUAT fanfic) | Chapter 6

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Pairing: Captain Swan

Words: 7k (this chapter) | 34k (total, so far)

Summary: (s2 "Manhattan" divergence) No one breaks a deal with Rumplestiltskin, and Emma finds herself facing the wrath of the Dark One. What if Neal didn't come back for Emma in NYC, but instead, Hook showed up to kill Rumplestiltskin early? No one has ever saved Emma before, and Hook has never been able to save anyone at all. It's time for them both to tell a different story. Together. CS

Read this chapter (chp 6) on AO3

Chapter 1: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 2: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 3: AO3 | tumblr

Chapter 4: A03 | tumblr

Chapter 5: AO3 | tumblr

a/n: Hi guys! I hope this chapter reads well. I never would have expected this story to include relationships other than Hook and Emma, or to include so many plot elements haha, but there wasn't really a way around it without including some. So I'm going to do my best to keep the focus on captain swan and fill in plot stuff as briefly as I can. When I started this story, the first chapter was a oneshot lol, and I've never written a story that has the scale this one seems to be heading toward, so I hope I do it justice xD But it's been so fun to see how things change with Gold gone, and I just freaking love writing captain swan lol.

So I hope you guys like this one :) ~cosette141

Chapter 6

Regina couldn't breathe.

Her mother was smiling.

At her.

There was no ulterior motive in her eyes, no coldness.

There was… love.

It was something she'd always dreamed of, always imagined.

How hadn't she realized how important having a heart could be?

"My baby," said Cora, that smile of hers growing. "You are enough."

It was like the icy grip around Regina's own heart suddenly melted.

The words washed through her like cool water, like relief.

"I am?" she whispered. Then, even quieter, she asked, "Mom?" It was like a question, like she needed to confirm that the woman who had looked and sounded like her mother, but was always out of reach, was finally here.

Cora just stared at her like she was looking at her for the first time in her life, like how Regina had looked at Henry the first time she held him. Slowly, gently, Cora reached for her face, her hands holding her, thumbs brushing over her skin. And it made Regina's eyes water because Cora had never touched her like this before.

"Regina…" Cora whispered, like she was saying her name for the first time. Cora touched her own chest for a moment, looking overwhelmed. Human. "It feels like the first time I've ever truly seen you."

"So you're not mad at me?" whispered Regina breathlessly, tears welling. "For giving you back your heart?"

"How could I be?" said Cora, shaking her head at the idea, even more warmth in her eyes. "Sweetheart, you gave me you." Cora suddenly pulled her into a hug. And the tears in Regina's eyes fell, because she's never done this before.

"I can't believe I wasted all these years not realizing I had everything I always wanted," Cora said over her shoulder. "I just wanted you to have everything I never had," she said softly, her voice giving into a hurt.

"I just wanted love," whispered Regina, hugging Cora, her mother, back even tighter.

And Cora returned it, making hot tears fall even faster down Regina's cheeks.

Pulling away a little, Cora looked at her, heartache in her eyes. "Regina… the boy you… Daniel… I am so sorry, Regina." And Cora's own eyes suddenly welled with tears, like her emotions were overwhelming her. "My dear… Regina, I've hurt you so deeply." Her face scrunched, emotion coloring eyes that Regina had never realized were brown underneath the blackness of all these years. She stumbled back away from Regina, hand over her mouth, and Regina suddenly saw her fingers shake. "What have I done to you, Regina?"

"It—It's not your fault," said Regina, almost robotically, the words worn and rehearsed over in her head a million times. Something she's forced herself to believe for years and years. "It was Snow White." Smiling a little, because it was so much easier to hate Snow White than the mother she finally got back, she smiled a watery smile. "She broke her promise. It wasn't your fault."

But Cora's eyes only grew richer in heartbreak. "I cannot stand to lie to you any longer with… with this," she whispered, fingers again touching her chest over her heart. "Honey, it was me," she said in a choked voice, like every second was overwhelming her more with emotions. "I made sure you saved her, I orchestrated your meeting, it was my doing, Regina." A tear slipped down Cora's cheeks. "I convinced young Snow to tell me your secret under a false pretense."

Regina blinked, tears freezing on her cheeks for a moment. She felt her emotions warring with each other.

That day that Cora had crushed Daniel's heart, the day that had changed Regina forever…

All these years, she knew she couldn't defeat, kill, get her vengeance from her mother for the actual committing of Daniel's death.

It was always easier to hate Snow.

Snow she could kill.

She had once thought, though she just would not die.

And the fact that True Love kept saving Snow's life over and over again, when Regina had lost hers, did not help.

Regina found herself looking at her mother, her emotions in chaos as she tried to make sense of it all.

Daniel…

She'd loved him more than anyone in the world, apart from her father (however differently). And he'd loved her back. They'd shared what Regina had once thought True Love, even if they'd only known each other a short time.

But in truth, Regina couldn't even exactly remember the sound of Daniel's voice, or many of the things he'd said to her. It was well over forty years since she'd known him; she was fully awake those twenty-eight years of the curse, and she was just beginning to feel them.

The urge to keep the blame on Snow White was blinding.

But she found her eyes welling again with tears that hurt as she looked at her mother.

Her mother, whom she had finally gotten for the first time.

The love she finally had to give.

And the fresh tears of age-old pain fell over her cheeks again, and she whispered, "You hurt me." And all the blame, all the hurt, all the hatred and the agony she had placed into Snow seized her chest in something that hurt. "I loved him. I loved him so much," her voice broke, and Cora hugged her again, tight and with tears of her own.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered over her shoulder. "I am so sorry, Regina."

"I don't want to be angry with you," admitted Regina, hugging her back.

"Shh," whispered Cora. "It's all right. I deserve your feelings, Regina. All of them." And Regina cried, shutting her eyes, feeling Cora hold her, whispering, "I will spend my life making it up to you, my little girl."

And as broken as it all was, Regina felt something inside her change.

It was relief as much as it was pain, like a broken dam.

It felt like starting over.

-.-.-.-.-.

Mary Margaret's heart pounded as she bolted through the forest all the way to Gold's shop. No one was answering their phones.

Absolute terror was coursing through her.

It only increased when she made it to the shop.

She staggered to a stop in shock.

The entire place was practically in shambles. The front wall had been blown clean off, the roof was half gone, half caving in, and the walls were barely holding the structure together. Debris and dust were everywhere.

"David, Emma," breathed Mary Margaret, running even faster, stepping carefully over the debris. "No," she choked out, only freezing when she was on the sidewalk, and saw something that made her jaw drop.

Regina and Cora were standing in the middle of the wreckage that used to be the room of the shop, helping David to his feet.

For a moment, Mary Margaret wondered if she was dreaming.

But as she approached, heart lodged somewhere in her throat, they helped him to lean against a still-standing cabinet, and there she could see something wrong with his leg.

But he was alive.

"David!" she cried, rushing to David's side.

Already Mary Margaret could see something different.

Cora… she had color in her face.

There was a… a something about her that wasn't there before. It was as if seeing someone become themself after playing a part. They were the same… but different.

"It's all right," said David when he saw her, giving a winced smile, as he looked from Cora and Regina to her, looking like he was just as stunned by the situation as she was. "I… think," he added, brows kneading, and not looking like he was fully sure of that.

"Where's Emma?" asked Mary Margaret, looking for her, heart pounding again.

"She's fine," he said quickly. "She's okay. She went to check on Hook I think," he said, something else in his eyes at that.

Mary Margaret released the breath she'd been holding, finding her eyes on Regina and Cora again.

Cora was regarding David's leg, and murmured, "Allow me."

Mary Margaret blinked.

Did… did Cora just offer her help?

"Uh—" began David, incredibly unsure, but before he could say anything, Cora lifted her hand. With a flare of Cora's hand, a slight purple glow spun around David's knee, and he sucked in a breath, making Mary Margaret flinch, tightening her hand on his arm. But just a moment later, David let out a breath in relief. "Wow," he said, lifting himself from the cabinet and testing out his leg. "Uh, thanks," he said to Cora, that awkward, unsure lilt to his voice.

"It was my doing," said Cora, smile faltering.

Mary Margaret looked between them. "Okay, what the hell is going on?"

"I gave my mother her heart back," said Regina.

Mary Margaret's brows lifted.

She hadn't even thought of such a thing. "You did?"

Looking at Regina, Cora said, "And I thank goodness she did."

"So…" said Mary Margaret cautiously, muscles still rigid. "Does this mean…?"

"I will not hurt you or your family, if that's what you're asking," said Cora, with a winced smile. "My darling, Snow," she said quietly, looking at Mary Margaret with a look that reminded Mary Margaret of her own mother. She had never expected to see such a thing on Cora, of all people. "I am so sorry for the pain I caused you."

Mary Margaret's brows shot up. "You're—you're what?" whispered Mary Margaret, suddenly feeling like a little girl again. When she had looked to Cora with big eyes, hoping she could be someone to look up to after her own mother had gone.

Regina let out a heavy, weary breath. But she looked Mary Margaret in the eye, and it made Mary Margaret tense. But instead, Regina said, "If you hadn't mentioned that she didn't have the ability to love… I wouldn't have thought to return her heart." With a huge, heavy, almost reluctant breath, Regina said, "Thank you."

Mary Margaret gaped.

It took a little shake from David for Mary Margaret to find her voice. "I, uhm, I… Regina," she managed. "I'm happy for the two of you."

And for the rest of the world.

Regina's eyes as she looked at her mother seemed to say the same thing.

Movement from outside made them all turn to see Emma walk in, stepping carefully over the debris, making Mary Margaret nearly collapse with relief. Cora turned good, Regina just showed her gratitude, David was safe and so was Emma.

And with surprise, Mary Margaret saw Emma's arm around Hook's back, and the pirate was limping a little, leaning on her for support.

Mary Margaret felt herself freeze at the sight of them.

There was a touch of color that wasn't there before in both their faces. The arm Emma had around Hook's back, her fingers were clutched in the material of his coat. His arm was around her as well, but something about it… it didn't just look like physical support.

Something about it felt…

"David!" said Emma suddenly, seeming to snap out of a daze. "Your leg—" she began.

"Healed," said David with a grin. "Thanks to, well, uh, Cora," he said, a little more awkwardly. But his eyes moved to the pirate, and Mary Margaret was surprised to see not even a spec of the contempt in his eyes. "Hook, you all right?" asked David.

Mary Margaret blinked.

Clearly she missed far more than just the battle that went on in here.

Hook was just as surprised to hear concern from David. It took him a moment to find words. It was like he'd been stuck in the same daze Emma was. "I… er, aye, banged up, is all."

Cora suddenly approached them, making everyone except Regina flinch with the reflex of Cora's reputation. She regarded Hook with something sad. "I'm glad I didn't succeed in killing you." With another sigh, she waved her fingers the same way she did with David, and a slight glow washed over Hook, making his eyes shut. But when the glow faded, he stood a little straighter, tenderly touching his abdomen, seeming surprised to find it painless.

"You were right," murmured Cora to Hook. "It wouldn't have been worth it. It wouldn't have gotten me what I wanted." Turning to Regina, she smiled. "I have what I want right here."

Regina smiled back.

And Hook's eyes suddenly were on Emma, hers on his, and he said just as softly, "I understand entirely."

Mary Margaret blinked, looking from Emma to Hook and back.

And again.

Because though Hook had been healed, and no longer needed Emma's support, neither of them had let go of each other yet.

"Regina, darling," said Cora. "I think we have much to discuss."

Regina smiled, and Cora took her hand, both of them disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

"That was… not the way I expected things to go," said David, once they were gone.

"How close was it?" asked Mary Margaret, knowing for David and Hook to sustain injuries, and the state of the building, it had to have been close.

"Really close," said David, shaking his head. But he looked at Hook, something like awe in his eyes. "Hook," he said, making the pirate stiffen a little, and Mary Margaret saw Emma's fingers tighten on his jacket.

Puzzle pieces were clicking themselves together in her mind, creating an image that was becoming increasingly more curious.

"Cora… she almost killed Emma." said David, and Mary Margaret's chest tightened. "My leg," he said, a wince at the memory, "I couldn't get to her. But… But Hook…" His gaze slowly turning to Hook, he said hollowly, "He sacrificed himself for her."

Mary Margaret felt her brows lift.

"I… I don't really understand how you survived," David went on.

Emma swallowed. More color touching her cheeks, she said, "I, um, it was me. I… saved him with my magic… somehow."

More curious.

"But… why Emma?" asked Mary Margaret. "I thought Cora was trying to kill Hook?"

Hook's eyes suddenly found the floor, something pained slipping into them.

"Yeah," said David slowly, like he was realizing the same. "Cora said… you…"

But Mary Margaret watched the gears turn in his head, and suddenly David was putting two and two together.

"Wait," he said, and Mary Margaret felt herself tense as he put together the picture that she had just formed herself.

"You…" David slowly shook his head like he couldn't understand something, and Mary Margaret saw both Hook and Emma tense a little. "Cora was right? You—You care for Emma?" he said incredulously.

But he didn't need the confirmation that was in Hook's eyes.

Sacrificing his life was the truth as it was.

But Emma suddenly let go of Hook to move in front of him. "David," she said, almost warningly, even though her voice just barely shook.

And more pieces were falling into place, and Mary Margaret watched it happen in her husband's eyes. "Wait," he repeated. "You—" He stopped himself. Looked between them, seeing Emma's fingers grab the edge of Hook's coat. "You care for each other?" he said incredulously.

Emma looked from him to Hook and back, biting her lip. "I–I… yeah," she mumbled, like she was figuring that out for herself in the same moment. And for the first time, Emma sounded young.

Mary Margaret suddenly caught the look of shock on Hook's face, that was far stronger than her own at Emma's admission.

David was frozen in incredulity, and Mary Margaret found herself watching her husband with concern.

Mary Margaret's gaze back on the pirate, whose hand was gently on Emma's arm, she felt her own shock setting in.

Emma and Hook.

Emma and Hook.

Never would she ever expect her daughter, a princess, to fall for a pirate.

Especially not the most notorious pirate in all the realms.

The same one they met in the Enchanted Forest, the one who irritated them all.

Something had obviously happened in New York.

Something had changed in New York.

Because Mary Margaret has never seen Emma so… affectionate. Emma hardly even reciprocates hugs with her. Emma's physical contact was always minimal, even after the time she and Emma spent knowing each other as close friends and roommates, and especially after Emma learned she was her daughter.

Yet ever since the hospital earlier today, Mary Margaret realized in hindsight Hook and Emma had kept as near to each other as they could.

Emma Swan found comfort in someone else for the first time since Mary Margaret had known her.

Emma.

Emma.

For someone to bypass Emma's walls in such a way, to gain not just a semblance of her trust, but all of it?

For someone to do such a thing seemed impossible.

And for it to be Hook?!

But even Hook—his entire presence seemed… different. There wasn't a tension around him, that danger, that distrust of anyone and everything around him. That bitterness and resentment that he quite literally personified for so long.

How could two days change two people who were quite literally the most closed-off people Mary Margaret had ever known?

"Look," said Emma, her voice wavering just a little, and it surprised Mary Margaret to hear. She has never heard Emma so… so…

It clicked.

Vulnerable.

"I know you don't like him, or trust him," she told David, shifting her eyes to Mary Margaret and then back to David. "But I, um… I do," she said, stumbling over the words. And summoning up the strength that sounded more like the Emma that Mary Margaret knew, she said, "But whether or not you want to give Killian a chance, I want him around."

Again, the shock in Hook's eyes surpassed Mary Margaret's own.

Until David's brows kneaded, and he said, "Who's Killian?"

But Emma bit her lip, like she didn't mean to call him that in this moment, and she barely contained a roll of her eyes. "He has a name," she muttered.

The memory returned to Mary Margaret in an instant.

"Who are you?"

"Killian Jones. But most have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker: Hook."

Somehow, the idea of Hook's name softened him. It fit the man that was standing before them, rather than the man they met.

And Hook was still staring at Emma in complete, open shock.

David suddenly approached Hook, and though Emma's expression hardened, Hook just regarded him like he expected another fist to the jaw.

Mary Margaret felt the urge to get in between them, when David said, "What you said to Cora," he said slowly, and Mary Margaret watched Hook swallow hard. "You said you didn't kill Gold for revenge." Looking from Emma to Hook, he said, "You really just killed him to save Emma?"

Hook swallowed again, his eyes gaining something unreadable. He looked at Emma, and Mary Margaret felt herself still. The amount of emotion she elicited in him… it reminded her of how she knew David to feel about her, and she him.

Meeting David's eyes, Hook said, "Aye."

David and Hook held each other's gaze for a long moment, and it felt like the room held its breath.

But finally, David said, "You saved her. Twice." A sigh. "Thank you for doing what I couldn't, Hook. For that… I'll always be grateful." He extended a hand, and Mary Margaret would never get used to seeing such shock in Hook's eyes. With what looked like reluctance, but the heaviness of words Hook earned, David said, "The least I owe you is a chance."

Slowly, still in shock, Hook took his hand, shaking it, giving him a minute nod of thanks, like he was utterly unable to speak.

And Mary Margaret stepped up to David's side, smiling at Hook. "We're both grateful for what you did for Emma." In many, many ways. Ways that Mary Margaret was dying to talk to Emma about. "And if there's anything we've learned today… people certainly can change."

Hook smiled, and Mary Margaret was taken aback a little, by the lack of mischief and ulterior motive in the expression.

He was smiling because he was happy.

He looked at Emma, and from the way her own lips tilted at the sight of him, so was she.

"Mom? Mom!"

The four of them turned at the familiar little voice, and suddenly Henry was running inside, nearly tripping over the debris of the building to get to them.

He raced past Mary Margaret and David, crashing into Emma's arms.

Emma hugged him hard, bending to her knees to hug him properly, and Mary Margaret felt herself smile as she watched Emma's eyes shut. And maybe a pang of hurt in Mary Margaret's own chest, at the desire for her daughter to look at her, to love her, to hug her the way Henry did with Emma.

But Mary Margaret took a breath.

One thing at a time.

"You're okay!" exclaimed Henry over Emma's shoulder.

"Yeah, kid," whispered Emma.

They pulled apart, and Henry smiled brilliantly at her, only to see Hook behind her, and his eyes widened.

"Captain!" he cried excitedly, and to everyone's surprise, he practically tackled Hook in a hug just like the one he gave Emma.

Hook's eyes shot wide, and he caught Henry, stumbling back from the force of the tackle.

The look in Hook's eyes was unlike anything Mary Margaret had ever seen before.

Slowly, Hook's hand settled on Henry's shoulder, and he smiled, something so warm it could have melted ice.

Henry pulled back, giving Hook that bright, overjoyed grin. He turned his hug to Mary Margaret, as well as giving one to David, but Hook looked frozen, like he couldn't believe it happened.

"Where's Cora?" Henry gasped out suddenly, looking from all their faces.

A little more commotion sounded from outside, footsteps, and Ruby's head poked in. "Henry!" she chastised. "I said to wait for—" But she saw the state of the building. "What on earth—" She lifted her eyes, catching Mary Margaret's. "You're okay!" She ran inside, carefully, and she gave Mary Margaret a hug. Pulling back, she said, "Everything got quiet, so we were afraid that Cora…" Her voice trailed off, and it wasn't hard to imagine what she'd thought. It was exactly what Mary Margaret had thought before she got here herself.

"What happened here?" came Leroy's voice, and suddenly there were more people approaching, taking stock of the destruction with apprehension.

"It's over," said Mary Margaret, loud enough for the newcomers to hear.

"Cora's dead?" asked Leroy bluntly.

Half the town was suddenly within view, and for the first time since before the curse, Mary Margaret felt like Snow White. Princess. Queen. Leader. And with the air of a fresh start, she smiled. "No," she said. "Better."

"Regina gave her back her heart, and she stopped attacking." said David.

"She's… good now," said Mary Margaret, the words a little awkward. "Or, at least, she isn't evil anymore."

"Wait a minute," said Leroy, "you're trying to tell me that this whole time, we could have just given her back an organ and all of a sudden she's good?"

"Love… is a powerful thing," said Mary Margaret, voice wistful with the heaviness, the truth of it.

He shook his head, taking in the mess of the place. "Gold is gonna have a cow when he sees what happened to his shop," muttered Leroy.

David exchanged a look with the others, one that lingered on Hook, before he turned back to Leroy to say, "Gold… is dead."

That got a chorus of exclamations from the crowd.

Mother Superior pushed gently through a few people. "He's what?"

"He, well," said David, looking from Hook to Emma back to the people. Their people. "He was killed."

"Killed," repeated Mother Superior, looking among their faces. "Who's the new Dark One?" she asked, voice low, fearful.

"There is no new Dark One," said Emma suddenly, looking from Hook, who had gone tense. "Gold…" Her voice caught a little, but she said, "He tried to kill me in New York." A ripple of concerned surprise, and Emma looked uncomfortable with it. "Hook… stopped him," said Emma, gently stepping around the words. "Gold is gone and so is his power."

"Of course," breathed Mother Superior. "The Darkness… it would have no tether out there. It wouldn't be able to survive."

"Wait," said Leroy. "Gold is gone? He's really gone?"

"He is," confirmed David, smiling at Mary Margaret, a confidence and a sureness that she loved about him.

"Cora's tamed and Gold's dead?" Leroy shook his head, smile spreading. "There's a happy ending I never thought I'd see."

"I'm going to lose all my business," added Archie with a little grin.

Mary Margaret smiled.

It certainly seemed like things were changing for the better.

It felt like a new beginning.

For everyone.

"Hey!" came a voice suddenly, and Granny was picking up something from a pile of debris; what looked like an antique trinket. "I've been looking everywhere for this!"

"Yeah…" said David, looking around the wreckage. "I think it's high time we get back what Gold took from everyone."

In more ways than one, mused Mary Margaret at the thought.

And for the next few hours, more and more of the townspeople were rifling through the wreckage, finding and repossessing things that Gold had taken from them. Including Mary Margaret and David, finding plenty of their own belongings. It was dark by the time most had left, the shop mostly just piles of broken wood and magical items and potions that Blue said she would be going through over the next few days.

The feeling of peace, of calm that hasn't been present yet in Storybrooke was suddenly beginning to settle.

And Mary Margaret found herself standing among that wreckage, wondering how, sometimes, things had to shatter to be put back together into something more wonderful than it was before.

At the thought, the truest example of the words, her eyes were once again on Emma and Hook.

Who were still and had spent the entire day inches from each other.

Emma was smiling, she was safe, and she was… happy.

Mary Margaret smiled.

-.-.-.-.-.

"Emma?"

Emma was startled a little from what felt like a daze, and lifted her head at Mary Margaret's voice.

Her mother was standing beside them, and Emma smiled a little. "This was quite the garage sale," she said dryly, though she hadn't been paying much attention to it.

Her mind was…

Elsewhere.

"Quite," agreed Mary Margaret with a little laugh. "You think it's time for Henry to get to bed?"

Emma looked over her shoulder, suddenly realizing how dark it was. And how exhausted she felt.

The entire day—the past two days—had been a blur of emotion, and the reason was standing right beside her, so close his coat was brushing her arm.

But Emma's eyes found Henry, who was playing with one of the swords he found. Hook's eyes were on him, like he was both fond and prepared to stop Henry from hurting himself.

"Oh—" said Emma. "Right."

But the idea of taking Henry home reminded her of what going home meant.

So much has happened… so much has changed since New York, since what happened, since…

…him.

And it suddenly occurred to her that things were safe now. She had a job, she had a son…

How was it that all of a sudden, after forty-eight hours, she can't imagine being more than a few inches away from him?

The danger might have gone, but she felt familiar fear slowly creep back into her.

The fear was almost as overwhelming as it was when she'd been arrested; the first time she'd been away from Neal, the only person she'd felt safe with.

Ever.

Trying to breathe through the rising fear, Emma met her mother's waiting gaze.

"Yeah," said Emma, biting her lip, anxiety shifting in her chest suddenly. "Can you… can you tell Henry? I'll… be a second," she mumbled, biting her lip harder, and Mary Margaret's eyes shifted knowingly toward Hook and back to Emma, and she nodded.

Subtly taking Hook's wrist, tearing the pirate's attention from Henry, surprising herself with how comfortable and right it still felt to touch him so easily, Emma pulled him gently with her.

He didn't protest one bit, allowing her to pull him out of the space until they were outside around back.

And Emma took a breath, facing him.

Every single feeling that assaulted her when they'd kissed suddenly rushed back now that they were alone, and she almost felt too overwhelmed to speak.

But before she could even find the words to say, the desperation bubbling up in her chest, the don't leave she felt the urge to repeat, the words she'd wished she'd said to Neal so many times, like it could have made a difference, Hook smiled, his brow lifting gently, knowingly.

"Love," he said softly. "Go home with your boy and your parents." An even softer smile, "Gods know you need some rest."

Emma swallowed, that anxiety creeping even further up her spine. She opened her mouth to say something, but he smiled again, something sure, and he said, "I told you, Emma. I'm not going bloody anywhere." And stepped closer to her, touching her face, and Emma felt the anxiety quell. "How could I?" he whispered.

But flashes of watches of Tallahassee of we're almost home of sorry, sweetheart, your boy took off were hitting her, and hitting her hard, and she swallowed again.

"Emma," he said softly, firmly, making her look at him. "I promise you," he whispered. "I am not going anywhere."

The devotion in his voice, in his eyes, in him was so strong she could feel it.

So she took a breath, and she tried something new.

Trust.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she said instead, a little tilt to her lips.

And he smiled too, seeing the trust in her eyes, and he grinned. "Something with you, I hope."

She smiled. His thumb brushed over her skin, in a way that made her eyes shut to the feeling. She opened them, his eyes already on hers, the moonlight making the blue in his even deeper.

"Goodnight, Emma," whispered Hook.

"Goodnight, Killian," she whispered back, watching his eyes light up with that surprise at the sound of his name, and she felt the same warmth at saying it. She liked saying it, almost as much as she liked seeing his reaction to it.

And before she could stop herself, she hugged him, wrapping her arms around him, shutting her eyes.

He held her right back, hand brushing over her hair, and it felt just as safe as it did in the apartment, in New York. She should be afraid of the overwhelming emotion, she should be afraid of how quickly she developed a need for him, but every fear evaporated in his embrace. She smiled against his chest, feeling lighter than she's ever felt before. And she felt him kiss her hair, making her heart jump and her eyes burn a little because no one has ever wanted her like this before.

He could walk away.

He had every opportunity to walk away.

But instead, he risked his life for her, and stayed anyway.

After a moment, they both pulled back, standing frozen, neither wanting to walk away.

"I will see you tomorrow," he whispered, like a promise.

Emma smiled. "Good."

He let go of her then, like it took every effort to do so.

And then, he headed for the docks, and Emma watched him go, smiling when he gave her a last look over his shoulder.

Emma pulled herself around the side of the building, letting herself fall against the still-standing wall, shutting her eyes, alone for the first time in days. Her mind took her back to the daze she'd been in ever since it happened.

She kissed him.

She kissed him.

And it felt so…

…right.

Never in her life has a kiss felt like that.

These past few days, Hook had been there when she needed someone.

And now, safe and sound, that need has only grown stronger.

She'd fought that feeling at every chance over the past decade, and yet…

She couldn't fight it this time.

She didn't want to fight it this time.

The sheer feeling that had washed through her in that moment, that kiss, it was like nothing she's ever felt before.

Yet at the same time, it was terrifying, because the idea of him leaving, of being alone again…

She knew it already.

She wouldn't be able to handle it.

Emma took a shuddering breath, trying to quell the fear in her chest.

He'd nearly died protecting her today.

No one has ever saved her before, but he did.

Twice.

The last person, the only other person, who had cared for her was Neal, and he loved her until it was no longer convenient.

Yet… Hook has stayed long past convenience already.

Emma felt herself smile.

Trust.

Trust.

She walked back inside, and saw Henry with her parents. Henry caught her eye.

Henry approached her with a smile, rubbing his eyes a little with the exhaustion Emma felt herself. He looked over her shoulder, and around her, brows furrowing. "Where's Captain Hook?"

"He went back to his ship," said Emma, her chest jumping a little with the flit of fear. "It's bedtime for all of us, kid."

Henry's brows scrunched more. "But—But he's not leaving, is he?" And Emma felt herself smile a little, at how much Henry has grown to care for Hook as well. "No," she said softly. "He's not."

Because he promised, and because she trusted that promise.

Henry let out a breath. "Good," he said, and Emma felt her smile grow, hearing him echo her own words to the man in question.

But, because she hasn't really gotten the chance yet, she bent down, fixing his hair a little. "How are you doing?" she asked honestly. "After everything that happened… are you okay?"

Henry rubbed his eyes again, but he smiled. "You're okay," he said, "so I'm okay."

Emma smiled, pulling him to her chest, hugging him tight. "You're a tough kid, do you know that?" she said softly. "Most kids don't have to deal with crazy stuff like this. You're pretty amazing."

She felt him smile. "I must get it from you."

If Emma could possibly feel more emotions, she would burst.

David drove the four of them home in a cruiser, Henry falling asleep on Emma's shoulder, and Emma almost doing the same.

But soon, she was lying down on her own bed in the loft, Henry tucked into his own bed, sleeping soundly, the lights out on a long day.

And she couldn't help thinking how empty her bed felt. It was something she'd never noticed before.

Something was missing, and she knew what it was.

Who it was.

It felt frigid without his touch, without him near, but remembering his promise, the one in his eyes, his voice, his kiss…

The cold faded, replaced with the trust that had bloomed in her chest, warming everything it touched. She closed her eyes, smiling at it.

God, she could not wait until tomorrow.

-.-.-.-.-.

Hook entered his cabin, the door falling shut behind him.

He leaned against it, his fingers ghosting his lips.

She kissed him.

She kissed him.

A smile touched his face.

Never in any of his years has a kiss felt like that.

Not Milah, not any of the nameless women throughout the years.

Emma's kiss…

It felt like her.

Sweet and fragile and passionate…

And more than that—

She'd called him by his name.

His eyes shut, emotions overwhelming him.

He hasn't heard that name in hundreds of years.

It took him completely, utterly by surprise to hear it through Emma's voice, only later remembering that he had introduced himself back in the Enchanted Forest, and she remembered.

She called him by his name.

He had no idea how much he'd missed being known as himself, rather than Hook.

Emma made him feel like him again.

And bloody hell, she cared for him.

It was no longer an assumption, it was no longer his own perception, she'd admitted it.

And gods, were her feelings reciprocated.

Ever since that apartment, since New York, he couldn't stand to be away from her. He could hardly keep from touching her, but for such a different reason than his encounters with women in the past.

There was this overwhelming need in his chest to feel her, to have her near, to protect her.

Bloody hell, he nearly died for her, and he'd make the decision over and over again because she was bloody worth it.

Gods.

He shut his eyes, taking a shuddering breath.

He'd been alone for centuries.

In love with a ghost for all that time.

But to feel something, something real, for someone alive…

He'd forgotten what it felt like.

And never once had he wanted to find someone else.

Not like that.

But… Emma…

Opening his eyes, he let out a breath, remembering something.

Someone.

Milah.

For centuries, she was on his mind nearly every minute of every day.

Hell, she was his sole and only purpose three days ago.

However inadvertently…

Milah had finally been avenged.

But he knew now, however, that vengeance was worth nothing. Northing for him… and nothing for Milah.

She was still dead, and he would still have been alone.

Yet now…

He isn't alone anymore.

Not only does he have Emma, the very thought sending warmth through his whole body, but Henry. The embrace the lad had given him—

It had felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

Both Henry and Emma's defending him, wanting him, had touched him in ways nothing ever has.

And above that, her parents had offered him a second chance.

And that… that was something he would have thought someone like him had run out of a long, long time ago.

"Are you going to stay?"

Emma's question had been so desperate, so identical to her voice in that apartment, when she'd been broken in his arms.

She wanted him.

And bloody hell, no one's wanted him in centuries.

He suddenly couldn't imagine being alone again.

He knew with a terrifying certainty that he couldn't bloody handle it.

Every desperation that had been in Emma's voice, in her eyes when she'd said goodnight…

It was the same fear in his own chest.

A vulnerability she'd released within him that he'd forgotten was even still there.

He wanted Emma, and he'd want her forever.

There was just one thing he wanted to do first.

Slowly, Hook lifted himself from the door, walking to his desk, pulling out something that had always been close at hand, so worn and so loved.

He sighed, looking at the painting of Milah.

Wherever she was now, he truly hoped she was happy.

But it was time for him to be happy.

He smiled, whispering, "Rest, Milah."

And he folded the portrait back up, putting it into the smallest box of things that Hook had left of Liam.

And with a sigh, he let her go, closing the drawer.

Hook detached his namesake, feeling the exhaustion of the past two days, sinking down to his bed.

It felt like something was missing, and he knew exactly what it was.

Who it was.

He laid back, shut his eyes and smiled, hope filling him for the first time in centuries.

Gods, he could not wait until tomorrow.

-.-.-.-.-.

a/n: I am going by what canon suggested for Cora, where she immediately lost her bloodthirstiness the second she got her heart back. We won't see a ton of Cora, or too much Regina, moving forward, but I do hope that I was at least close to how Cora might act if she was given back the ability to love and feel the extent of her emotions.

The next chapter has a ton of captain swan and captain cobra fluff planned, and I hope to have it written and up soon!

Thanks for reading :)

tag list: @teamhook @jrob64 @kmomof4 @justanother-unluckysoul @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @fleurdepetite @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper @confessionsofthemwordrd 

[cosette141]

Hey! Secret Santa again! Just wanted to let you know that I have started your fic and it will be a canon divergent/fix-it fic (though I’ll keep the season it’s from a secret).

Some random questions.

What’s your favorite holiday?

Which of your fics is your favorite? Why?

Any new ideas for fics on the horizon (not counting your CSSS fic)?

Hi Santa!!!!

OMG IM SO EXCITEDDDD!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 those are my favorite!!!!

Ooh boy random questions yay!!

1. Favorite holiday:

Christmas!!

2. Favorite of my fics:

Ahhhh I have like over 25 OUAT fics now?! When did that happen?!

Hmm… I think one of my favorites to write was Firsthand (a Neverland oneshot) cause it felt like the first true OUAT fic I wrote when I got into the fandom and it feels really nostalgic to me because of that :) and I also really loved writing Hell to Pay (Underworld fic), Don’t Let Go (White Out divergence) and Begin Again. Those I wrote out of emotions I was really feeling with at the time (and Don't Let Go was a SS fic so it reminds me of Christmas and the fun I had writing it!) so it’s like I put everything I was feeling into them, and whenever I look back on them it feels like a sort of time capsule in a way. 😁❤️

3. New ideas:

Ahahaha too many! Sadly I have a very serious case of Lack of Muse(TM) going on right now, but I do have a very long list of both half written and unwritten CS stories to write haha. In addition to hopefully finishing Lost and Found in January haha, here’s some:

- a canon divergence where Hook was in Neverland the whole time s1 and s2 were going on and when Henry gets kidnapped and brought there he lands on Hook’s ship and Hook gets the chance to right the wrong he did with Bae

- A Tangled OUAT arc, like, as if the show had done one canonically ;) (obviously imagining they would have gotten Zach Levi to play Flynn). Also imagining a bromance between Flynn/Eugene and Killian😏😆 However I also had ideas of Killian and Flynn adventures in the Tangled world soooo lots of Tangled things? Hahaha

- a story bringing Emma and David closer as father and daughter 🙂

Those are 3 of what looks like 30+ I have here lol but I don't want this to get too long 😂

Thank you for the ask Santa and I can't wait to hear from you again and read my present!!!! :) :)

[jrob64]

🥹🥹🥹

Belated Birthday Fic for @jrob64

Joni (@jrob64) this is long overdue now, and probably not worth the waiting you've done for it, but I still wanted to give you the story I wrote for your birthday. It takes place in Season 2, after Emma leaves Hook on the beanstalk, but diverges in that Hook carches up with the Savior and the rest of the Princess squad again without Cora. There's some mentioned whump and I hope plenty of hurt/comfort (since you and I both enjoy that so! ;) And I hope you'll still like it, even though it's now well past your birthday. I am so glad we are friends and that this OTP and fandom lead us to meet and get to know each other!

“Consequences”

by: @snowbellewells

The logs and twigs they’d gathered for their campfire were crackling mightily, releasing occasional pops when sap ignited, but giving off the light and heat their weary and mismatched group needed as they wordlessly gathered on a fallen stump and large rock nearby. None of the women spoke. Exhausted and worried, and still not fully trusting of each other, they merely watched as Mary Margaret spun the rabbit she’d brought back for supper on the spit they had rigged up over the fire and listened as Mulan finished assembling the tent they’d soon crawl into once they had eaten at last.

This wilderness was about the furthest thing from an “Enchanted” Forest that Emma could have conjured in her naive 21st century mind, but she was simply too drained to point out the irony to either her mother - she wasn’t even ready to apply that term to her friend and roommate yet - or honest-to-goodness freaking Sleeping Beauty. And it didn’t help that she kept hearing Hook’s voice echoing in her ears, the hurt and shocked betrayal in his tone - and in those dangerously expressive eyes - as he’d pled with her, ‘Have I told you a lie? Why do this to me now?’ She had the sinking feeling that no matter how tired her body might be, when she lay her head down tonight, she wouldn’t be able to sleep for seeing his face as it had looked when she had turned away on the back of her eyelids, and her guilt at leaving him chained atop the beanstalk gnawing at her insides.

Shaking her head clear, Emma reminded herself once again that Hook had been in league with Cora; they had no proof but his word, her gut feeling, and her superpower no one else believed, that he wasn’t still working for the witch against them. She’d done the right thing, Emma savagely scolded her yammering conscience. Nothing was worth the risk of not getting back to Henry - or even worse, seeing Regina’s evil mother find her way to where Henry was. Certainly not a piercing-eyed pirate who seemed to see right through her and make her squirm doing it.

With a nod and murmur of thanks, she took the portion of roasted meat offered to her on a makeshift skewer and nibbled at it gingerly. It might just be that she was famished and too tired to be picky, but it tasted better than expected. Emma was swallowing her second bite, when noise caught her attention from the nearby treeline. She jerked upright, immediately on guard; her state of near-slumber shattered and all her nerves jangling with alarm. Her eyes met Mary Margaret’s as her mother reached for her bow and Emma stood with fists clenched, ready to defend them however she could, whether her gun was any use out here or not. Mulan had abandoned the tent at the sound as well, smoothly drawing her sword and facing the trees in front of them like a deadly sentinel.

The noise of heavy footsteps smashing through the underbrush grew nearer and louder; branches snapped, heavy, gasping breaths were heard, and Emma could only square her shoulders and wait for whatever new foe was coming forth to show itself.

What she wasn’t expecting - and what tore a harsh gasp from her throat on sight - was for Hook to stumble dazedly out of the woods toward them, momentarily leaning against a tree trunk to steady himself, his face obviously bloody and his clothing torn. He took a couple more weaving steps toward them before the toe of his boot caught a root that sent him sprawling face down in the dirt at their feet. And he didn’t get up. Didn’t move or speak. Emma was rushing forward in spite of herself before she could think better of it. Her mother called for her to be careful, and Mulan’s stern face cautioned it could be a ploy, but she paid neither of them much heed.

He still hadn’t moved, and he looked even worse close up. He’d been hurt. Badly. Surely Anton wouldn’t have…  This wasn’t what she had wanted. Was this her fault?

Crouching, Emma tried to shake Hook gently, to stir him back into wakefulness. A groan escaped him breathily, which shouldn’t have relieved her nearly as much as it did. There was nothing for it but to roll him over onto his back. At least then she could see his face and assess the damage.

But when she did, her breath caught a second time, choking up somewhere between her throat and her lungs. She couldn’t imagine there had been many times in the life of Captain Killian Jones when this could be said of him, but he looked terrible. His lower lip was busted, with rusty remnants of dried blood staining where they had trailed down his chin. One eye was swollen nearly shut, and the other was bleary to the point that she wondered how he had made his way to them through the dark. A large gash that had barely closed showed beneath the disheveled dark fringe on his forehead. Dark, purpled bruises and nasty scrapes mottled the skin of his face, neck and collar nearly everywhere she could see. Though she would have never admitted it aloud, Hook’s usually flawless countenance was horribly altered by whatever had happened to him. The shadows darkening his usual mischievious sparkle and daring turned her stomach in a way she couldn't begin to explain.

He struggled to raise his head slightly and blinked up at her as best he could through the usable slit of his eye. “Ah Swan, caught up to you, didn’t I?” he jested brokenly, somehow still teasing her through what must be immense pain.

Tilting her head to study him, Emma struggled to look unamused while inexplicably aching to place a hand to his forehead, brush back the matted hair there, and offer some modicum of comfort. Her fingers moved almost of their own accord, hovering just barely over his cheek before hesitating and pulling back, tingling at their proximity even as she resisted making contact. There didn’t appear to be a single place on him that wasn’t battered and wouldn’t cause him more pain if she tried to touch.

As if reading her concern, Hook shifted restlessly, attempting to lever himself upright and then falling back with a wince and guttural moan of protest. She also noticed for the first time how tightly he kept his hook arm pressed to his side, not sure if the injury was to the arm itself or if he were shielding his stomach or ribs, but it ratcheted her worry for him that much higher. Not certain what to do for him, or what to say, her usual half-annoyed bantering retorts fled her the longer she witnessed his vulnerability. Emma finally settled on simply answering his question, and asking one of her own. “It would appear you’ve caught me,” she acknowledged, then added softer, “But why?”

Huffing out a weary breath, Killian didn’t look at her as he barely shook his head, the motion seeming to express that he didn’t quite know himself. “I guess because, double cross and all, Lass, you lot are the safest choice for company of my rather limited options.”

Emma flushed with embarrassment at his casual mention of what she’d done. Her cheeks burned, knowing the man who lay before her could surely see how she’d colored at the reminder and could only hope that his current state made him less sharply observant than usual. That she hadn’t trusted him or the brief alliance they’d made shamed her, and then made her angry for feeling ashamed. She’d been burned before, and had learned to be more wary. That she had wanted to believe him, and had silently agreed when he’d called them quite a team, had only made her more anxious to leave him behind, to flee before he turned on her and she was left in the dust herself. Pushing the conflicting emotions aside, she tried another tack instead. “But what happene to you? How did…? Surely Anton didn’t…?”  She was tripping over her words now, flustered and chiding herself as she shook her head in frustration.

Biting her tongue until she could regain control, her eyes flew to her hand when Killian used his to clasp it and gain her attention. Though his fingers were trembling with the effort, he held on and answered her slowly. “No, that wasn’t the work of your giant admirer. Your new friend released me once the time you requested of him had passed. Bloody gargantuan numbskull threatened me to leave you in peace, but he didn’t do this damage.”

Emma exhaled air she’d hardly realized she was holding. It didn’t make things right between them, but she was grateful that she hadn’t misjudged Anton’s nature and directly caused the torture Hook had clearly undergone. “But then, who?” she whispered, finally daring to squeeze the hand that held hers in return, while at last reaching out and smoothing a light caress over his brow.

He flinched slightly at the initial contact, but then his eyes fell closed momentarily with a sigh of relief. Emma had to know, though the only other option she could think of had dread settling in her belly like stone. “Who did this to you?” she choked.

“Why Cora, of course,” he intoned, trying to appear either flippant or matter of fact and failing with the shadows that passed over his expression. “Not honestly sure why she didn’t finish the job, unless she thought she had and this old body is just too stubborn to give up the ghost.” He drew in a ragged breath before adding, “At any rate, after letting me know that she would leave me here, unable to ever gain my vengeance on Rumplestiltskin, she made certain she had demonstrated the consequences of choosing to align myself against her.”

By this point, his breathing had grown shallow and labored once more with the effort of speaking. Shushing him with a plea to rest, Emma was eager to check with the others about anything they might be able to do for his injuries. He certainly didn’t need her to keep him talking as she was. Pressing trembling lips together, Emma dashed away the single drop of moisture that had escaped her eye and laid his hand tenderly back on his chest. “Well, thankfully, Cora counted her win a bit too soon. Let’s see if we can help you live to fight another day.”

His unfairly long lashes fluttered, and a small, soft chuckle broke from his cracked lips, but Killian seemd to be rapidly giving up the fight to remain lucid. Emma wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad while they tried to tend to his wounds, but she had to do something. She wasn’t going to desert him again.

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

When his eyes fluttered open some time later, Killian Jones found himself dazed and dizzy, then almost nauseous, with his throat parched and dry. Panic followed almost immediately as he struggled to gain his bearings and found himself weak as a newborn kitten, floundering even to sit up unaided. He could not have said whether it had been minutes, hours, or days since he was last aware of his surroundings, but just as he was not sure how much time had passed, he was also vaguely uncertain of where he was and whether or not he was alone - an even more disturbing condition.

His mind was reeling as he attempted to move, scrabbling around over the dry, dusty ground with his good hand in a frantic search for his cutlass. Surely he must have left it within reach. He had learned long ago, even as the captain of a mostly loyal pirate crew, that enemies were varied and numerous, and that he must never let his guard down without a weapon close at hand. He had a jagged, long-healed gash running under his ribs, which Smee had tried his best - if rather crookedly - to sew closed, but which had taught him that lesson all too well.

With a frenzied sound of frustration in his throat, Killian kept fighting to sit upright, ready to defend himself against some unknown foe, only to have hands grip his upper arms tightly, pressing him back and forcing him to remain on the ground. “Unhand me, you blackguard!” he growled, only to have his vision finally regain focus and the fight abruptly drain from his limbs when he found himself staring up at Emma Swan hovering over him, her touch the one keeping him in place.

“Easy there, Hook,” she chided, loosening her grip as he stilled and grew calmer upon seeing he was not under immediate attack. “You’ve got to settle down, or you’ll hurt yourself even more. We tried to stitch the deepest of your cuts and bandage you up. Don’t undo it all!”

She was fussing over him, Killian realized belatedly, his hazy and addled mind slowly filling in the blanks he had missed. She might be scolding and grumbling as she did so, but she was still frightened for his well-being and more concerned for his comfort than he would have dared imagine possible.

He had known there was a frisson of energy that flowed between them when he’d taken her hand in the giant’s lair, cleansing and caring for the cut on her palm despite her stubbornly self-effacing protests. And he really hadn’t thought he was imagining the way she’d held her breath and her pupils had dilated when he’d eyed her daringly while tying off the bandage with his teeth. Still, he’d been hesitant to place too much fatih in what he was reading from her either. Emma Swan was overly guarded and used to being on her own. Someone had obviously hurt her deeply enough to make her push everyone else away in response. Not only that, but she was an actual royal - the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, no less - and the fabled Savior besides. Her light was much too pure and bright to be aligned with his dark and tarnished pirate soul set on vengeance.

All the same, he had cursed himself as seven times a fool when his heart plummeted at her turning and running from him on the beanstalk. He had held out a little hope for them, in spite of his better judgement, or he would not have been so hurt by the betrayal. She was as full of shining enticement, from her flowing golden hair to her sparkling jade eyes, as any buried treasure. He couldn’t help wanting to stay by her side.

As Emma slowly moved to support him, helping him ease into a sitting position while bracing him against her own hip and shoulder, she offered him a water skin and held it up so he could take a much-needed cool drink of water. Killian was stunned to realize that maybe winning her over wasn’t as lost a cause as he had thought. Perhaps Emma Swan already cared more than she wanted to allow herself, and against her own good sense - much as he had found himself doing.

Several quiet moments passed before Killian fully registered that all was still and motionless around them. It was full dark now; the middle of the night, or perhaps early morning, if his view of the moon was accurate, yet he could hear no movements or voice’s from Emma’s royal, bandit, or warrior companions. The fire next to them was dimmed to near embers, and it seemed for the moment as if he and Emma were the only two people under the brilliant array of stars overhead.

Now that he had his bearings and his thirst was slaked, he ventured a glance beyond his lovely blonde Savior’s beguiling face, at least far enough to see that a rough tent had been staked and three bed rolls were occupied beneath its temporary shelter, explaining their privacy, but raising even more questions. Why were the rest of them willing to lower their guard enough to sleep with a virtual stranger and former enemy in their camp? It had been hard to miss the warning and distrust in the Lady Snow’s eyes, at any rate - probably largely protectiveness for her daughter, but still, why grant him this sort of uninterrupted interlude with Emma then? He was clearly in poor shape; maybe they had reckoned he couldn’t do anything to harm them, or charm Emma too thoroughly, as injured as he was.

Killian was abruptly startled from his wandering thoughts when he once more felt the cool, soothing touch of Emma’s fingertips trailing up the side of his face and into his hair. She raked the dark strands back from his fevered skin, calming even the pounding that pained him from the magical beating he’d endured and the rough impact his head had suffered when Cora finally dropped his battered body to the hard ground and left him for dead.

The Enchanted Forest’s lost princess spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear her when she addressed him again, her eyes studiously avoiding his to observe her fingers carding through the mussed, blood-caked strands of his hair. “I’m sorry… truly, I am. It was wrong of me to leave you behind the way I did, and… I should have trusted you. You may be a pirate, and awfully full of yourself, and way too flirty for your own good…” 

At that, Killian attempted to waggle an eyebrow and smirk salaciously to make her smile, only for a cringe to escape him at the motion of his brow and lip.

She noticed, of course, and rather than admonishing that it served him right, as she would have usually done, Emma hissed in sympathy and hushed him with a gentle hum in the back of her throat. “See, this shouldn’t have happened to you, Ho - Killian.” Her switch from his moniker to his real name struck him right in the center of the chest, with as much emphasis as a physical blow. He couldn’t decide if her concern, guilt, and contrition more warmed his heart or troubled him - not wanting to win her over out of mere pity. “That witch only caught up to you, found you empty-handed, because of what I did. This is my fault… b-but… I never wanted you to be hurt like this. I only wanted a head start, to get back to my son.”

If he hadn’t been shocked to his core already, the depth of emotion in Swan’s voice as she made her confession would have been enough to bowl him over. It sounded as though she might be on the verge of tears on his behalf, and Killian could hardly fathom it. Drawing a ragged breath of his own, he wet his cracked lips and managed a sincere response to her heartfelt openness. 

“Darling,” and here he couldn’t help a bit of a rogueish grin at her, despite how it pulled on the broken skin of his lip again. 

She shook her head, but didn’t scoff or interrupt, not this time, and heartened, he continued in all sincerity. “I’m not going to lie to you. I was angry when you shackled me there and left me behind. I’d been on the level with you, was doing my best to help you, and for the first the time in a long time, I felt like I connected with someone genuinely. But I also understand that your boy is your first priority. You cannot let anything else matter as much - or even possibly risk his safety.”

His battered knuckles were beginning to swell, and his fingers ached as he moved them, but Killian still managed to return the clutch of Emma’s own hand and intertwine their fingers with a sigh of rightness and relief. Glancing back up to search her gaze once more, he added, “I understand what being separated from one’s child might do to a person… more than you might think, in fact. I respect you all the more for your urgency and desire to return to him as soon as possible.”

He could see Emma wondering what his words might mean; the gears turning in her sharp mind were obvious, even if she only pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes slightly, watching him a few moments longer. Thankfully, she didn’t press the matter further, but instead released what seemed a lungful of air she must have been holding worriedly and gave him a hopeful smile. “So… you forgive me, then?”

The barest dip of his chin was as far as he dared move his aching head, but Killian assured her without hesitation, “Aye, Emma, I do,” in as strong and certain a voice as he could muster. 

By then, the faintest tendrils of light were beginning to break through the deep indigo sky and soft hints of scuffling and waking from their fellow travelers hinted that they would not be alone much longer.

Though he still hurt all over as if he had been scorched by a dragon’s breath and then crushed by an ogre’s tread, Killian couldn’t help but feel as if his situation had drastically changed. Even more so when Emma Swan’s eyes grew warmer yet; her aspect beaming crookedly at him like sunlight slowly emerging from a bank of clouds. Just before they were joined by Snow White bearing coffee for his Savior, Emma winked at him conspiratorially and leaned forward to murmur. “I’m glad, Pirate. After all, we make quite the team, remember?”

Tagging a few others who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @apiratewhopines @sotangledupinit @stahlop @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @killian-whump @artistic-writer @the-darkdragonfly @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @justanother-unluckysoul @wefoundloveunderthelight @motherkatereloyshipper @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @jonesfandomfanatic @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @drowned-dreamer @xarandomdreamx @caught-in-the-filter