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swanderful1 · 7 years ago

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A Cold Awakening: Ch 16/?

Summary: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Notes: ANOTHA ONE. Updating 2 times in 1 week since I’ve been slacking lately. Thank you to everyone, once again, for the kind comments. I hope you enjoy where the story goes. Feel free to leave more along the way!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT

Rated: M, for hints of gruesome violence

Word Count: ~8600

Read all of it at AO3 or ffnet

Killian’s POV

He was falling in love with her. Emma. His Emma. Though she was by no means a possession of his, Killian’s mind still laid claim to her in some way. After all, she plagued most every thought in his brain. She haunted every dream. And now, she was laying in his arms, in his bed, in his hotel, the smell of cinnamon and sunshine on her bare skin. It was nearing dawn now. Sunday. When she had shown up at his hotel room late last night he was a bit surprised. After leaving her at his childhood home, the rubble it had become over twenty years, he had expected not to hear from her. The ball was in her court, she had promised to call. He understood the situation, and figured she wouldn’t contact him for a day or so. But then she came and all of the negative emotions that being in that house had brought back, fell away when he looked at Emma. True enough that they had seen each other damn near every night for weeks. Taking out their physical desires on one another. Though it had become more than just physical as time had gone on.

Now it was nearing the time Emma would soon leave him. He wished she could stay, and spend the morning the way he had wanted the previous one at her house to go had her parents not shown up. Slow. Lazy. Tangled together. Perhaps have a cup of coffee outside. Allow the light of day to make an appearance at one of their trysts. But there was also something else… an elephant in the room so to speak. The lingering presence of Emma promising today would be the day Killian knew who killed his parents. She had work to do once she left his embrace this morning, and that was something he never wanted to prevent her from doing.

All those times he had spent with Grace, his most recent and failed relationship, fighting over his working hours. The extraneous travel. She never wanted his career, he did. So the arguments never ceased. Work was not a topic they would see eye to eye. Killian wouldn’t make that mistake again. Not with Emma. The closest they had come to that was when he had to go to his speaking engagement in New York. He didn’t like it, they weren’t together… they hadn’t talked about it. However, he still longed for her and it had reminded him of his relationship with Grace. Choosing work over her. Though he wasn’t sure what was going on between he and Emma, he knew it was more than they had set out to make it. Whether either one of their egos wanted to admit it… well the jury was still out on that.

“Killian?” she asked in the moments of silence following what he would consider love making. It was a gamble using those words with her, but she didn’t pull away when he did. In fact quite the opposite had happened. They had shared an exchange of passion and understanding. Roughness and delicacy. Lust and adoration. The conflicting feelings in both of them shining through the more time they spent in bed.

“Yes, my darling?” he was stroking the sides of her face, slowly eliciting a subtle blush on her creamy skin. He tried to keep his motions as restricted as possible, knowing they hardly had time for another round. Exciting himself just to have her leave would not do him any favors.

“I have to go soon,” she whispered in the dark. Her eyes locked with his as she toyed with the tufts of black hair on his chest. He did love she when she played with him so absentmindedly. As if it were as natural to her as blinking.

“I know,” he paused his strokes, resting his hand underneath her chin. He tugged her face closer to his. She was so beautiful. Everything from her jade eyes to her pouty lips to her dainty nose. Stunning. “I wish you didn’t. But I understand.”

“It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t stay if I could,” she breathed. The hairs on the back of his neck standing with arousal at her tone. The promise of more in her voice.

“Do what you must, love.” He kissed the temple of her forehead. Killian didn’t quite understand how some moments he could want to command her, make her scream his name in that gorgeous tone, make her nails claw at his skin with desire. But then times, like now, he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms just to feel her in the simplest of ways. “Emma whatever happens today, with the case, I just need you to know how grateful I am for all of your help.”

“It’s my job.”

“You’ve gone beyond the responsibilities of your job. This whole experience has been… difficult. But you’ve made it considerably more pleasant. For that I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t completely discredit yourself…” she bit her lip, probably minding her words that were coming next. “You and I, we understand each other.”

“Aye, we do.” The remainder of the unspoken conversation lingered heavily in the air. Killian felt like he could say so much more to her but he didn’t want to scare her (or himself). He toyed with her hair, letting the silky blond strands fall through his fingers.

“Thank you for tonight, Killian. And for every night really.”

“The pleasure was all mine, darling.” It was almost nauseating, the way they were speaking to each other right now. It was more along the lines of the way newlyweds spoke to one another.

With how close their faces were he could hardly resist the urge to kiss her once more before she left. So he tugged her mouth to his, intending to leave her with a gentle press of his lips. But the second their mouths met, the kiss quickly turned from demure to…. passionate. Filthy, even. His mouth hot on hers. His hands moving to her hips to roll her on top of him. She liked that, being on top, he had learned. And while he liked being the dominant one as well, he was inclined to switch positions with her. Whatever she wanted.

“Killian,” she cooed against lips between kisses. He loved the sound of his name when she said it. Her hands bracing herself on his shoulders, keeping her held above him. He nipped at her lips, not wanting to fully detach from hers, until she unhinged her jaw and granted his tongue entrance. Chasing the breath down her throat as she gave back the kiss with equal fervor. She was intoxicating.

“Bloody hell, Emma,” he moaned as his lips moved to her jaw, down the column of her throat, needing to taste her skin again. The sweet, softness that was her and her alone. He sucked possessively on her pulse point, hoping he wouldn’t leave too large a mark but also wanting it to be there. Even if he was the only one who knew it was. She had done the same to him dozens of times, it was his turn now. His hands found their way to her ass, the thick curves of her body fitting perfectly in his hands.

It certainly did not help the situation that they were both still entirely nude from their earlier round, Emma straddling him, her bare hips meeting his as they ground together to relieve some of the friction. His hands moved from her hips, up her body, cherishing every inch of skin along the way, before reaching the curtain of blonde hair falling around their faces. He ran his fingers through the unruly mane of hair and she keened, unintelligible words that sounded faintly of his name.

“Killian…. We can’t…. Not again….” Emma croaked out pulling her mouth from his. Immediately he wanted them back on him but he remained still, not wanting to upset her.

“I’m sorry.” As she sat back on her heels, he tucked away a stray lock of hair. “I got carried away.”

“We both did.” The way she said it had an undertone of realization to it. Like she was thinking the same thing he was. How in the world was it possible that this much desire existed between them that a simple kiss could so easily turn into… well, that. “You started it though.”

“Excuse me?” The air was lighter now, both of them had been guilty of engaging with each other. The mere thought of one being more responsible for it was amusing to say the least. “I don’t recall hearing a complaint from you, love.”

She stood from the bed, shooting him a naughty grin. Her naked form bare to him in the dim room. God she was perfect. Her breasts alert, nipples hardened, the curve of her waist, the toned legs. Emma caught him staring, though it was less embarrassing when she did so now that they had shared so many intimate encounters.

“That’s because you were too busy sucking a gaping bruise onto my neck!” She exclaimed looking in the mirror across from where the bed was. Realization hitting her that this wouldn’t be an easy cover up. “Christ, Killian how do you expect me to hide this?”

“Perhaps a scarf would suffice?” he joked. He could tell she wasn’t really angry with him for doing it. The charming flush of her skin an indicator that if anything she was flattered by the mark.

“It’s almost fucking June.” She turned back to him. The mark at the base of her neck, bordering with her collarbone was larger than he had planned and he felt bad for that, he really did. But not bad enough to regret doing it.

“If you wear a shirt with a collar it will be covered.” He too stood from the bed, sauntering over to where she was in front of the full length mirror. Coming up behind her to see the two of them in the reflection. Eyes meeting hers in the mirror as his arms wrapped around her. “Just as I had to do when you left one one me.”

And with that he kissed her cheek, smacked her bare ass, and walked toward the bathroom to take a shower. A cold one. For if he didn’t there was very little preventing him from taking her right up against the hard surface of that mirror and this morning the time for that was simply not a luxury they were afforded.

When Killian emerged from the bathroom, his room was empty. The only evidence that Emma had been there was the imprint of her body on the mattress. It was probably best he hadn’t made another attempt to kiss her goodbye, the woman tempting him so much with any move she made. It was utterly confusing and something he had never experienced before. Not even with Grace, who was another ghost of his. But Emma, she was just so different. He had opened up to her more quickly and willingly than with anyone. The only other person on this planet who knew just as much was his brother Liam.

Emma was a comfort to him when he needed it, a siren in bed, and incomparably intuitive in her work. As much as he tried to block out the first investigation, it was hard not to let thoughts of it slip into his brain. The most difficult time in his life all capped off by the fact that he and Liam were prime suspects for most of it. He sat through hours of rigorous and unforgiving questions. The sheriff at the time had never encountered such a case and all eyes were on him to execute. It was one of the most gruesome murders in the history of the Northeastern United States, it was everywhere.

News stations occupied every corner of town, not a sentence was safe from being published. Killian felt he really and truly couldn’t trust anyone, it was hard to even look at Liam the same. The tragedy causing such a rift in their relationship, especially when Killian was liberated as a suspect. His saving moment finally coming when a gas station security camera caught him there during the time of the murder. After the horror of it all he chose to live in London with the rest of their family. It was tough. He was never more alone. That was what made becoming a workaholic such a clear choice for him. He had no one else.

Killian had always been a loner. He kept few friends in school, a small circle of those he saw regularly or spent time with on the weekends. Never was much into the girls, he had obviously indulged in a few hookups. He was human, after all. Nothing serious though and nothing permanent ever. His home life was such a wreck that the last thing he wanted was for a girl to show up to go to the prom and have to listen to his parents spit daggers at each other. It kept him private.

The night his parents were murdered was uncharacteristically cool for September. The tension that was constantly building in his house between his parents was inescapable. The Jones’ could have lived in a 50,000 square foot house and it wouldn’t have been enough to drown out the fighting. The volatility that coated the air. Brennan and Moira agreed on less the longer they were married, and at 16 years old Killian had had just about enough.

Laying in his bed he heard the fighting commence from down the hallway. Though his parents’ room was in a different wing than his, he heard clearly.

“It’s not my fault you spend half your life in that office and the other half too inebriated to function!” He heard his mother shout.

“Perhaps if I had a wife who looked at me every once in awhile I wouldn’t feel the need to that!”

“You can’t blame this on me… these are your choices, your mistakes, Brennan!”

“Oh good, mistakes. Let’s talk about some of yours shall we? While we’re laying everything out there?”

This was how it usually went, the house would be quiet for a few hours after Killian’s father returned from work, then he and Moira would somehow find themselves alone in a room. One catalyst would set it off and boom. Fighting for hours.

The more his father drank the worse it became. Years had gone by since that pattern began and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. At the very least Killian had a car of his own now and could take a drive so he wouldn’t be around the toxicity anymore. He often wondered why they even stayed married and hoped that one day if, God forbid, he ever got married that he and his future wife would never become what his parents had.

That was the only time Killian ever thought of marriage at all, when he was hoping that it wouldn’t be anything like his parents. Most kids he knew wanted relationships like the ones set before them. Not him. He wanted no part of it.

Things would be even harder in a year when Liam would be away at school. At the very least right now he had someone who understood. But his brother had plans to attend college on the other side of the country. Liam hadn’t applied to a single school in-state.

Running his fingers through his hair, Killian settled his hands over his eyes in an attempt to block out the shards of glass that penetrated his life. Before he knew what he was doing he left the house, climbed into his car and drove off into the night. Attempting to put as much distance between he and his parents as he could. Little did he know, that would be the last time.

Later that night when he returned from his drive, Killian noted that all of the house lights were still on but the place was uncharacteristically silent. The fighting had ceased, arguments and low blows no longer reverberating off the walls. It was odd.

“Mum?” he called out to more silence. “Dad?”

Nothing.

Liam still wasn’t home, his car not in its space in the driveway. Had Killian’s parents left they most likely would not have done it together. One would have gone and the other stayed, as per usual, but no one was here. Or as he would soon find, no one was answering.

Killian made it to the top of the steps without hearing so much else as a pin drop in the house, heading to his room to sleep since there was finally some peace. But it was the light on in his parents room that caught his eye. The cracked open door revealing something dark and solid on the floor. A weird feeling began building in Killian’s stomach as he realized something definitely was not right.

His gut wrenched as he neared the room to enter and saw that the dark figure on the floor was his mother, covered in a pool of what he could only assume was her own blood. Her usually serene, kind face twisted into a snarl that came from dying in pain. Killian noticed the blood coated her entire body. From her nightgown to the bared skin of her ankles she was covered. Killian choked back whatever was trying to come up. Tears. Vomit. He didn’t know. And then he saw his father, not far from his mother, sprawled in a similar way. He was in shock.

Killian’s hands shook. His insides curled in on themselves. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on the floor next to them, somehow to be with them but he couldn’t get himself to move. It was as if his feet were firmly planted in that spot and the rest of his body was following suit. Slowly, he was able to back himself out of the room. His eyes still locked on the limp forms of his dead parents on their bedroom floor. He wanted to look away and unsee all of it but he couldn’t. A small part of him felt that maybe if he stared long enough that the blood would fade into the floor and his parents would rise to their feet because it was all a hallucination. A horrific trick of the mind.

But it wasn’t. So when Killian’s shock wore off a few moments later when he was standing in the hallway outside of his parents room, he collapsed. His knees hit the hardwood floors with a crash but no pain physical pain could hurt him now. Head falling down to rest where his knees were he sobbed into the floor. Killian’s heart beat at an unparalleled speed as he tried to make sense of all of this. Alone.

Now, twenty years later, he sat on the balcony of his hotel room. He sipped coffee and nibbled on some of the omelette he had ordered from room service but his stomach was too upset to really consume anything. Emma had told him he would receive a call today to go into the station but that was about all. She couldn’t give him too much but she had wanted to.

The anticipation made everything worse. Princess sat by his feet on the chaise lounge chair overlooking the view. The morning was bright and sunny, perhaps it was an omen for what the rest of his life would be after the investigation was done. For so long it had loomed over his head, and he had never truly been able to cope with his parents’ death because it was so open ended. It was something you couldn’t justify, quantify or reason with because the whole thing was so gruesome and heartless. Whomever had killed his parents, even though Killian hadn’t had the best relationship with them, he wanted justice to be served on their behalf.

He toyed with the one belonging he had from his mother. The silver pocket watch with her engravement and picture. She had given it to him on his sixteenth birthday. It had once been a wedding gift between Brennan and Moira, but as time passed and their marriage crumbled the relic meant little to Killian’s father.

“Keep this with you and give it to someone special someday,” his mother had said when she handed him the wrapped parcel all those years ago. Nowadays, there wasn’t much use for pocket watches, with cell phones and what not, nevertheless Killian had considered it an honor to have. There was a time where only the highest of men carried them and his mother felt him worthy of its presence.

“Thanks mum,” he said as he took it carefully, feeling the long silver chain in his hands as he was now.

But all of this time had passed, Killian now being nearly 37 years old, and nowhere near a child of his own nor a wife to pass the watch onto. There was a time when he thought of giving it to Grace. Perhaps having the metal resurfaced and a new engraving etched inside. However, now that his life had taken the path it did and Grace was no longer in it he was a bit glad he had kept the watch just the way it was.

Killian’s phone rang, startling both the dog and him, the caller ID said it was Liam which was a relief and a disappointment. Part of him wanted it to be someone else, but he knew that call wouldn’t be coming for a bit.

“Little brother!” Liam yelled on the other end.

“Younger brother,” Killian grumbled. “Good morning, Liam.”

“Where have you been lately, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Work… a lot of work mostly.” It sounded like a lie and Killian knew it.

“Work, huh?” Liam wasn’t buying it. He rarely ever accepted Killian’s covers. “Well, is your ‘work’ at your hotel right now?”

“No.” There wasn’t a use in arguing. Liam knew exactly what had been keeping his brother so preoccupied the past few weeks. And it wasn’t his job.

“Good. Would you like to go for breakfast?”

“Sure, Liam.”

“Alright well I’m in the parking lot out front so I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to catch me in something…”

“I would never!” Liam yelled before hanging up the phone. It seemed as good of an opportunity as any to get out of his hotel. The sheer space of the penthouse was excessive and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from renting it though. The whole thing being so temporary, his time in Storybrooke. Though, he would never admit it aloud, he could begin to picture himself staying here for a bit longer.

Killian and Liam drove to Granny’s diner for breakfast. It was nice, getting to see his brother. For so many years while Killian was in London he and Liam were restricted to phone conversations. Which was hard on Killian, as someone who kept mostly to himself, his brother had been his best friend. Getting to go for a simple breakfast together on a Sunday morning made what remained of their family seem less broken.

Over their meal, Killian kept mostly quiet, not wanting to divulge information that would lead Liam to know the nature of his and Emma’s�� relationship? That wasn’t what it was, at least not right now, but it was something. Still, Liam would soon find out all that Killian had known and more whenever they get called to the station. He wanted to text Emma, or call her, just to check in with how things were going. The anticipation was killing him and he knew the simple sound of her voice would ease a bit of his anxiety.

Liam talked for a long time about his family. The time on the east coast had proven to be more beneficial for he and Laura than he had originally planned. The lush forests, the food, the pace, everything was better for them. They could have a backyard and a quieter life.

“We’ve been talking about staying here, even after the case is over. If it ever ends,” Liam stated as he ate the remaining bites of his breakfast.

“Yeah?” Killian was happy for his brother, if nothing else good came out of this investigation, perhaps it could be that Liam and his family found a place to call home. “How serious has this conversation been?”

“Well, pretty serious. Laura wants another baby. It’s hard enough just having one in our tiny house out west. Here, we could have a yard they could play in. It’s just, it’s a place we see ourselves.”

“You talk of this second child like it’s already here,” Killian noted. But when he saw the growing smile on his brother’s face he realized this wasn’t a hypothetical situation.

“It kind of already is. Laura’s 3 months pregnant, Killian.”

He couldn’t contain his smile in return. Though Liam had been nervous about the thought of a second child the last time they had spoken on the matter, he was clearly very comfortable with it now.

“That’s incredible, Liam. Congratulations!” He patted his brother on the back. The last time Laura had been pregnant, Killian had been in London so the news was told to him over the phone. But this… this was so much better. “I can’t believe another little Jones will be wreaking havoc on this world so soon.”

“I consider it my responsibility. Since my brother is taking his good old time settling down.” Liam’s eyebrow went up as he sipped his coffee. He always rousted Killian about the family thing. And the marriage thing.

“Sorry to be the one to tell you but I don’t see that happening any time soon. It’s not for me.” This had been Killian’s answer to his brother for years, even when he was with Grace he deflected the conversation. But for the first time, really ever, it felt like a lie.

“You’ve got it bad.” Liam chuckled. Obviously amused by Killian’s attempt to suppress the conversation.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to.” Killian tried to appear stone faced but it was hard. Especially when he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“I won’t bug you about it, because I know you’re a private fellow,” Liam was leveling with him, an earnest attempt to have a deeper conversation. “You obviously like her, you can’t talk me out of that.” Liam’s voice got lower, so no one else in the crowded diner could hear, “But is Emma someone you can see yourself with?”

“It’s complicated,” Killian replied, too quickly.

“It always is with you, Killian.” Liam sounded amused but also exasperated. Probably sick of the vague answers Killian always gave him. He wanted to have his friendship with his brother, and be free with information as Liam was with him but it was hard. Thirty six years as a closed book it can be difficult to open back up again.

“Yes. She is,” Killian said with conviction. Answering his brother’s earlier question with certainty much to Liam’s surprise. And he was surprised, his face lit with shock.

“Have you discussed what happens when the investigation is over?”

“No, that isn’t something that’s come up.”

“Perhaps you should try,” Liam’s eyes were serious. Though he was usually far lighter than Killian’s demeanor ever was, this was a moment where his brother was sincere in his statements. “If she’s important to you, don’t let her slip away.”

“I don’t know that she shares the same feelings that I do.”

“Don’t worry. I talked to her best friend about it. That brunette, Ruby, she works on the case as well. That night at The Rabbit Hole when you and Emma ran off together doing lord knows what.”

“Oh for Christs sake Liam, you didn’t.” Killian felt his face turn red. The thought of Liam and Ruby discussing them was too embarrassing for him to even imagine.

“I did. Don’t you want to know what she said?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Well,” Liam continued, ignoring Killian’s response. “She said she had never seen Emma, in all their years knowing each other, this way with anyone.”

Killian’s ears perked at the thought, “Never?”

“Never. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Killian. The way you are around one another. There isn’t a doubt in my mind she feels the same.”

Killian didn’t say anything back, not knowing exactly what to say. There wasn’t a doubt that Emma was attracted to him. Clearly what they had between them was electric. That couldn’t be denied. It was the promise of more that he worried about. Her life on her own, in her town, with her son and her parents and her ex. Her life was full enough without him. Where could he possibly fit?

“It’s just whether or not you two stubborn asses are willing to admit it to each other, that’s still up for debate.” Liam finished with a wink. Understanding the situation far too well. Killian scratched behind his ear, hoping now that he had given Liam a glimpse into his thoughts he would cease this conversation. And just as he was thinking that, his phone screen lit up in clear view on the table. It was a call from Emma.

“Oh that’s perfect,” Liam joked. It was ironic, certainly, the nature of the conversation versus Emma’s time she chose to call. Killian rolled his eyes at his brother, knowing full well that this phone call would in no way be romantic. It meant it was time for them to come into the station. But Liam didn’t know that, so Killian did his best to remain calm. Still though, a knot formed in Killian’s stomach as he picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Carefully avoiding any of his usual endearments he used with Emma. Hoping she wouldn’t take that the wrong way.

“Hi,” she said, her tone professional as well, “can you and Liam come into the station. We have some questions we want to ask the two of you.”

“Sure.” He looked at his brother who was waiting to overhear something flirty. But it would never come. “Should we head over now? I’m with him, out at Granny’s.”

“As soon as you can get here would be good.”

“Alright. We’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll see you soon, Killian,” she said, and quieter than she had spoken for the rest of the brief conversation. “Everything will be okay. Do you trust me?”

“Of course, darling. Always.” He couldn’t help himself, as he had suspected just hearing her voice eased some of the nerves he felt for the situation. He could almost hear her smiling on the other end of the line as he used the word he exclusively only called her nowadays.

“Good.”

After he hung up, Killian looked across the table at his brother. He had been avoiding eye contact with Liam for most of that conversation.

“It’s truly incredible. I watched you turn from man to marshmallow in about thirty seconds.” Liam joked. Though he quickly retreated his humored nature when he picked up on Killian’s very serious face. “I take it that wasn’t a pleasure call.”

“No, it was not. We have to go into the station. The investigation team would like to talk to us.”

“Now? On a Sunday?”

“I think it’s pretty big, Liam. Otherwise they wouldn’t have asked.” It was weird, knowing this was coming but still not knowing exactly what would happen by the end of the day. Emma clearly had all of her information in line. But if she said everything would be okay he believed her. He had to believe she would try to her best to make this as painless as possible. She had given him no reason, thus far, to believe otherwise.

Emma’s POV

After leaving Killian’s hotel, she needed 3 cups of coffee before she felt up to continuing her job. In reality all she wanted to do was stay naked with him in his bed this morning, but she had a job to do. And the details of their latest night together were weighing heavily on her heart. Could she really feel this way after only a few months of having Killian Jones around? But there was something so undeniable about the way it was so easy to talk to him, the way she had so willingly given herself over to the pleasures he wanted to bring her, the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. It was unlike any connection she had ever had with anybody. It was the closest thing she could possible feel to lo-…. Really liking someone.

There was a job at hand, and Emma knew if her team didn’t act quickly and efficiently they would miss their window. The warrant to search Gold’s home was in place, she met her father and Graham, and other members of the Boston team at the Jones’ house. They had already begun scouring the grounds for any further evidence of Robert and Moira’s affair. Not an inch was missed. And a few things came up. Specifically an old love letter that must have been missed by whomever was sending them clues. A task for another day. One arrest at a time.

In its entirety it was explicit. A letter from Robert to Moira. The timeline seemed to be after Liam was born, but before Killian. At the very least the was a level of confliction. The desire to continue on in their affair tainted by the fact that she now had a child. Nevertheless she carried on with it. He pleaded with her to leave Brennan, to run away. They could take Liam and start over somewhere. At the time Neal wasn’t born yet but Gold was still married as well.

“She wouldn’t do it, for whatever reason she wouldn’t leave him,” Emma murmured quietly to herself as she read through the contents of the letter in its entirety. The desperation between the two of them was evident. Definitely enough for him to want to kill for her, and then kill if he couldn’t have her. It broke Emma’s heart to know that Moira Jones had lived such a quiet life of torn misery.

“You never really know what’s going on behind closed doors.” David was near her now. He had already read the letter and given his thoughts. The same as Emma’s. It was urgent enough to show their affair turned more volatile. But it didn’t feel like a victory to either of them in anyway, the damage of it all was still done.

“It doesn’t matter whether we find Gold guilty or not, families are still going to be broken beyond repair.” The words Emma spoke more true now than ever, as Neal and Henry would soon return home. Now not only the Jones’ but her own family would become part of the wreckage as well.

“Desperation knows no bounds, Emma. People are capable of anything if they feel their back is up against the wall.”

“I know.” Emma looked around at the rest of the investigation team, wrapping up their search. It was time to go apprehend Gold. Time to bring him in for questioning, and if Killian could identify him as the man who posed as their mother’s doctor they could arrest him.

“Life is really short, too short to live the way these people wound up living.” David was serious in his words, the way he spoke. “I may not have been very friendly to Killian yesterday morning, but it doesn’t mean I would in any way resent you for your choices…”

“Dad, it’s okay…”

“No, it’s not. You can date whomever you choose to be with. It’s not my right to push that on you.” He gulped, appearing the slightest embarrassed for his treatment of the situation Saturday morning at her house. “Clearly it hasn’t impacted your place on the investigation team, we’ve made it further in 3 months with the work you’ve done than my father did in one year.”

She smiled at the compliment. It was nice to hear because she had been so torn about the entirety of the developing… thing between she and Killian. “Thanks, dad.”

“If he’s somehow made it past all of the hurdles you put up he must be a relatively… good guy.”

“I know. He is.” And she did.

“Your secrets keep you sick.” He pulled her into a side hug, watching everyone pack up and ready themselves for phase 2. “Don’t feel like you have to keep him a secret from your mother and I. Okay?”

“I promise. I won’t.”

And with that, they piled into their respective vehicles, driving off to Gold’s house. A sprawling mansion in its own right. He had a lot of property, and his business was one of the oldest on Main Street. It was nowhere near the size of the Jones’ but still, sizeable.

Only Emma, Graham, and David went to the door. There was a small van of other investigators ready to go in for a search, warrant prepared. They were met with an uncooperative Gold and a confused Belle. Emma felt bad, blindsiding someone she worked with every day. More collateral damage in this mess. The team searched through their belongings, and Emma didn’t know what more they could find that would solidify Robert’s guilt.

While everyone else searched, Emma and Ruby milled through the wide hallways and high ceilinged rooms of the house. The entire thing had been restored by Gold and Belle after they were married. It was stunning. All of the old woodwork, the jewel toned walls, the original wainscoting. It was a home. Passing through the rooms Emma caught sight of Belle sitting on one of the couches in the living room. The deep green walls making it feel darker than it was outside. Belle was still in her pajamas, because it was a Sunday morning. And Emma felt a deep pang in her heart.

“Belle?” she said as she and her best friend entered the room. Emma padded across the oriental rug that covered most of the floor. Paintings adorned every wall, fresh flowers on the coffee table. This home had been carefully created, and now it would never be the same for Belle again. The brunette looked up at her, blue eyes hiding the pain of what she was probably experiencing. “I know this is bad.”

“This is awful,” Belle’s head fell into her hands as Emma and Ruby seated themselves on the couch across from her. The brocaded green a perfect match for the walls.

“It all happened very quickly, I swear we weren’t conspiring this whole time,” Emma offered. Belle didn’t even look up at the two.

“It’s just… it’s a lot to take in.”

“Did you ever suspect… were there ever any signs?” Ruby asked carefully, any incorrect word could set Belle off. The situation was definitely delicate enough.

“That my husband was a murderer? No, that wasn’t something I thought about when we were saying I do.”

“I need to level with you,” Emma leaned her elbows onto her knees where she was seated, an attempt to come into Belle’s eyeview since she was staring at the intricately patterned carpet in disgust. “A murder weapon was never found.”

“Excuse me?” Belle finally looked up at Emma. Their eyes meeting only to find that the brunette was severely appalled by the statement. Tears streaking her face. “I have worked on this case just as long as you, I am well aware there is no murder weapon.”

“Is there any place your husband would have hidden it?”

Belle leaned back on the couch. Her posture straightening, an odd look on her face that Emma couldn’t place the emotion for. She looked for anything in Belle’s face, a twitch of the lip, a squint of the eye. Something.

“If it isn’t here it could be in his shop.”

A wave of understanding fell between the two. Belle stood from the couch, leaving the room to supervise the ransack of her home. Ruby looked over at Emma like they had just gotten nothing out of that conversation, oblivious to all that Emma was feeling about the encounter. She had a sixth sense about this sort of thing, about when there was more beneath the surface. And as Belle walked away Emma quietly realized she had just been given more than she needed.

The search continued into the late morning and early afternoon. All hands on deck to find anything further but more importantly, the murder weapon. Graham had gone back with a few others to the station to begin the questioning. Emma had carefully measured every inch of Belle’s face as she gave her the answer. That woman knew her husband hid something, somewhere, and it still existed. Emma would deal with that later. Right now the task at hand was to find the knife. Or at least it was thought to be a knife. The forensics department in Boston had thought it perhaps could have been a jagged piece of glass or metal, due to the nature of the cuts. The edges weren’t smooth or careful, the were uneven.

When nothing was found at the house they decided to check the shop. Emma was on borrowed time. Gold was being held at the station, she needed to get there to question him, she needed to call Killian, but she was like a dog with a bone she had to run with this. She needed to find the knife.

The shop was closed, obviously, but the bell still rang as Emma opened the door. The space feeling dusty and dated. The only times in recent memory she had been here were to pick up her son. Her son. They would be back today. This evening. And Emma hadn’t had the balls to call and fill in Neal on all he had missed this weekend. The wood floor and shelves similar to Gold’s house she had just been in. Immediately her team began searching, and searching, and searching. Nothing.

Emma walked off on her own, stealing off to a secluded room of the shop with all of the overflow antiques. It was dim, there was only one window but it was covered by drapes so she walked over to move the curtain to let in the light. But as she was about 3 steps away there was a dip in the floor. A slight creek that would have gone unnoticed by her had her senses not been heightened right now. She stepped on it again and the same sound hit her ears. The same subtle dip.

She rolled the rug up that was covering that section of the floor to reveal the old wooden floorboards that hadn’t been tended to in a long time. Emma found the one that had made the sound and peeled it from its place, revealing a compartment roughly a foot deep beneath the floor that contained only one thing.

A long silver dagger, with jagged edges, still hints of it stained with blood but otherwise perfect. Laying carefully tucked where no one would have thought to look. Its handle matched the silver blade but there was a central piece made of pearl that reminded Emma of the very ring that had belonged to Moira Jones. Like the ring could have fit right over the handle as an adornment and the two would have been a perfect match.

So now the final piece of the puzzle needed to come into place, they had the weapon, they had the motive, they had evidence beyond evidence. But the final stage would have to be a test for the remnants of blood on the knife as well as Killian and Liam identifying Gold as the man who had posed as their mother’s therapist. The knife was carefully taken with the remainder of the Boston team back to where they could do a thorough forensic analysis.

In the meantime, the Jones’ had arrived at the station. Killian immediately eyeing the collared shirt Emma wore to cover the mark he had left on her neck just that morning. She blushed thinking of it, his lips on her skin. And he noticed, giving her a sheepish smile. Which was unlike him, normally she would have expected a wink and a lecherous grin but today was different. It was hard, for him, it would continue to be hard. Emma found it torturous to sit across a table from him, to have to watch him see the man who had killed his parents, and not be able to do anything to comfort him. It was unlike her, feeling a need to soften the blow for someone. She was tough but he was an exception and she knew it.

“We’re going to show you a line up of pictures. And all you have to say is if you recognize them or not,” David explained what the Jones’ would have to do. Emma knew Killian’s memory had been jogged recently, with the night before and the picture they had found in his mother’s closet. Liam would be the real test, at least in her mind, he would have been older than Killian at the time. He would have had a clearer picture.

One by one the pictures were shown, and then in a group. As each came up the two would answer yes or no. It was an array of local men, men who had been photographed in police custody. For the most part the answer to every picture was no. Until Gold’s was shown. In unison they both said yes.

Shortly after the tale Killian had told Emma the night before, of that man being his mother’s therapist for years, came through. But not from Killian, from Liam. Who had a distinct memory of the man’s gold tooth. This portion of the investigation wasn’t entirely a necessary breakthrough but it was a way to put the pieces together. It was a way for Killian and Liam to know who this man had been, to put a face to the crime. In some odd way she hoped it would help them to cope and to realize that this was a longstanding affair that occurred from a time before they were born until the death of their parents, so they could in no way blame themselves. The true smoking gun was the knife, and the confession Emma would drag from Gold as soon as she had a second alone with him. Graham had been with him this whole time, with little success, so Emma’s job was far from done.

“Thank you for your help,” David said, signaling that the Jones’ were free to leave if they wished. Emma looked to Killian who appeared off kilter. His whole appearance glazed over.

“Dad can you, uh, can you give me a minute?” Emma tilted her head in the direction of Killian, who hadn’t moved from his seat. Though his brother was already on his way out. The younger Jones seemed frozen on the spot.

The two were alone in the room now. A second of privacy in a circus of activity. Killian still didn’t look up at her, his eyes instead focused on his hands that rested on the table. She walked over to be closer to him, kneeling to his level. She caught herself staring at his profile, the sharpness of it especially given the circumstances.

“I knew it was coming I just… it’s different to actually hear it. After all of this time I didn’t think it would be this… I thought the pain wouldn’t be as deep but…” he said finally, still not looking at her. “He’d been to my house, Emma. For years… that man…”

“I’m so sorry,” she cut him off. Noticing he was struggling to find his words. “I tried to warn you, all that I could. But I didn’t want to feed you a story and have it be wrong.”

He turned to her, eyes watery, on the verge of tears. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, love. You’ve done so much for me.”

His hand reached out for her face, and she leaned into him, knowing they were risking so much just being alone together. Sure her father knew about them, but with everything happened today it was dangerous. Still her skin tingled as he touched her. Her blood racing, warmth where his palm rested on her cheek. The pull toward him was stronger than the pull away from him.

“I want you to have something,” Emma reached into her pocket. His hand falling from her skin. She had saved one small thing, hoping she would have the opportunity to give it to him. The piece of paper folded tightly so it fit easily in his palm. He opened it up, taking in the image on the parchment. His face softened.

“Emma, what is this?” he asked, his gaze never leaving the image. But she suspected he knew.

“It’s a drawing, one of the sketches your mother drew. All of the others had to go into evidence but I saved this one… I thought you might like to have it.”

She had given him the drawing Moira had done of the two little boys playing in the yard. Running carefree in front of what would only be his childhood home.

Finally, he looked up at her from the sketch. “Thank you.” Was all he said, but his expression said so much more. He looked like he wanted to kiss her, but she knew he wouldn’t, not here at least.

“She was a complicated woman, but deep down she was good.” Emma wanted in anyway to make Killian understand she saw his parents as humans. Not dead bodies. “And she loved you.”

He gulped, finally, a tear falling down his cheek that Emma thumbed away. Their foreheads resting together. Faces close enough they could feel one another breathe. She would have to go soon. Gold was waiting, her father was waiting, everyone was. Maybe someday there would come a time where she and Killian wouldn’t have to sneak. Where they could be as they were in public. However, that day wasn’t today and she suspected he just wanted to get out of this office.

“Emma…”

“Yes?”

“I…” he paused, for a long time, for what felt like years, and she thought she knew what he was going to say. The air between them completely wired with heavy emotions. “I think you should get out there before they send a search party for you.”

Something that felt like disappointment fell over her. Though she wasn’t sure why, well not entirely sure. It was probably because it felt like he wanted to say more but chose not to. A habit she was often also guilty of.

“You’re right.” She pulled her face away from his, less temptation to reach out and kiss the tears away from his face. They both stood, righting themselves slowly. Neither in a huge rush to leave the room, though it was inevitable.

He kissed the top of her head, chastely and quickly so no one else was any the wiser. But she could still feel the unspoken words on his lips as the pressed to the top of her head. He was still biting them back even as he walked out of the office. I love you.

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