#ultraluckycatnd

[cssns]

It's Time to Get to Know Your Mods!!!

We are back to welcome @ultraluckycatnd to the mod team!!!

Name

Cathy

How long have you been a part of the CS fandom?

I dabbled starting at the beginning of season 3, but fully jumped in by the end of 3A.

What is your favorite part about fandom?

I love that the fandom encompasses people from all around the globe, and that even this many years later, we're all still so passionate about our favorite couple.

What drew you to this event?

I've done beta work for many years and have been involved in some way or other since the beginning.

What do you do in your "real life?"

My day job finds me teaching general music and band to elementary kiddos.

What are you most looking forward to in this event?

I'm looking forward to all the amazing stories and art work that is going to be produced this summer!

It is going to be an AMAZING summer, Cat!!! Welcome back! It's so good to have you back on the team for our final year!!!

[laianely]

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche

[kmomof4]

The Arena A New Fic for CSSNS24

WE FINALLY MADE IT, Y'ALL!!!!! @cssns is here for the last time!!! And I am sooooo thrilled to be kicking off our final year!!! Before we get to the fic, I have to say a few words about the team of ladies that helped get this fic here for all of you to enjoy!!

First, to the other mods of the CSSNS - @winterbaby89 @stahlop @jrob64 and @ultraluckycatnd This event wouldn't be here without all of you and I cannot thank you enough for stepping up and helping me through this last round.

To @snowbellewells my magnificent beta for this fic - Marta, I cannot thank you enough for reading, rereading, and rereading AGAIN in order to make this fic the best it could be. Love you, my dear friend!!!

To @motherkatereloyshipper artist extraordinaire - Kit's artwork always leaves me with my jaw hanging open in AWE, and this one is no exception!! I could seriously stare at it for hours!!! Please give her all the love!!!! It's at the beginning of the fic under the cut.

And now to the fic! I so hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!!

Summary: The arena. 

A place of fear. Oppression. Blood. Death. 

A place of shattered hopes and dreams. 

A place, for a very lucky few, of hope. 

Words: Almost 3200

Rating: M for graphic violence

Tags: CSSNS24, Werewolves, True Love, Happy Ending

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza

@djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling

@caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones

@mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The arena. 

A place of fear. Oppression. Blood. Death. 

A place of shattered hopes and dreams. 

A place, for a very lucky few, of hope. 

Killian Jones stood along the wall of the arena with his fellow fighters, his eyes trained on the opposite side of the stadium where the grand prize of the wretched and despicable contest he’d willingly signed up for was being held. The wretched and despicable contest that the despot Arthur had created for the entertainment of himself and his court, promising to the victor everything they could ever dream of - more money than they could imagine, a place in the upper echelons of society, land, and a beautiful bride on his arm. A bride that, in Killian’s fondest dreams, didn’t care he was missing a hand. But all of that was for the victor alone. There was no prize for coming in second, unless you counted death as a prize. 

And Killian did. 

Either everything he’d ever hoped for - but which was so far out of reach for a street rat like him - or bringing his miserable existence to an end. That was why he’d eagerly volunteered for the contest. That last sliver of hope his mother - gone for many years now - had instilled in him that his life circumstances had to get better, because they certainly couldn’t get worse, or the sweet oblivion of forever sleep.

He cut his eyes to the left for a moment, taking in his fellow competitors. He didn’t know any of them. The mates he’d trained with for the last year were long gone - scattered to the other corners of the empire to try their own luck in the arena. There were four other men here with him. The one immediately to his left barely looked to be a man at all, but he held a cunning and evil look in his eye that warned not to underestimate him. The man next to him was the largest of all of them with long curly black hair, bulging muscles, deep set dark eyes, and a closely trimmed black beard and goatee. The other two men on the other side of the large one, he’d only seen briefly as they were released into the arena. One was tall and skinny with blonde hair and a scar on his face that gave him a dangerous look, and the other had a mop of brown hair that flopped over his almost simian-looking visage and he held himself with an air of pretension and imperiousness. He’d fit right in with Arthur’s court. He’d probably been an upper house slave looking to be a master instead. 

Now, Killian’s attention was drawn back to the other side of the arena where two slaves were needed to get the young woman into the center of the sunken pit in which they were all held. She truly was a beauty, Killian could already tell, and a hellcat to boot. She wore nothing more than a torn and ragged gown that barely covered her most private parts and was nearly the same color as her skin and a thick silver bracelet on her wrist. Her golden hair was a nest of tangles but still glinted under the midday sun as she screamed and thrashed in their hold. Her legs alternately stuck out in front of her - her heels vainly attempting to anchor themselves into the soft ground - or dragged behind her in an effort to become deadweight and too heavy for the men to carry. When that wasn’t working, she kicked at her captors, clawing and biting every inch of bare skin she could reach.

They finally reached the center of the arena where they dropped her unceremoniously in the dirt. It took her a moment to rise to her hands and knees, then she raised her head and Killian could see her face for the first time. He caught his breath at the exquisiteness of her face, made all the more evident by the dirt and tear tracks which marred her otherwise porcelain skin. The color was high on her cheeks, and her lips were full and red. She wasn’t particularly far away from him, fifteen to twenty feet at most, but he couldn’t tell the color of her eyes from this distance and under the rays of the sun, although he could clearly see the glint of more unshed tears. 

Her gaze swept over the other men beside him before landing on him, and when their eyes met, something came over Killian that he hadn’t felt in over two decades- the wolf that he’d lost when he lost his hand as a lad. An utterly unfamiliar strength flooded him, and his ears rang with the internal howl of his other half as his heart and mind were filled with images of that fateful day.

Killian ran down the crowded streets of the marketplace, a dreadfully skinny boy, one hand holding up the too-large pants around his waist, lest they fall down around his ankles as he ran. His clothes were tattered and worn and hung off his scrawny frame. A boy on the cusp of manhood, his malnourishment was evident in his height, nearly as tall as a man, and the leanness of his face with the beginnings of scruff on his chin.

His eyes darted around the street, taking in the busy vendors with their customers and trying to determine who’d be least likely to notice a pilfered meat pie or a couple of pieces of fruit for himself and his mother. Spying a likely suspect, Killian never slowed as his hand shot out toward his prize. But the shopkeeper was much more aware than Killian had given him credit for, and before he knew it, his wrist was captured in an iron strong grip and he was being pulled behind the small booth.

Without a word, the hulking shopkeeper pulled out a cutlass and brought it down on Killian’s wrist. He was too shocked to even register the pain as he watched his blood gush from the end of his arm. Too mesmerized by the gruesome injury to do anything, he realized darkness was encroaching on the edges of his vision and the sound rushing in his ears was the agonized howl of his wolf - who had manifested only a scant six months ago - dying away to whimpers before everything went black.

It was nearly a week later that he’d woken, according to his mother. She hadn’t been far behind him as he ran through the market and had seen what the shopkeeper had done. She was too late to do anything about her son’s hand, but she’d made sure the shopkeeper would never be capable of such cruelty again. A small dagger coated with aconite from the Monkshood plant leaving a scratch across his wrist was all it took to sentence the man to death before the sun set that same day. She was the one who got him back to the hovel they called home, and nursed him around the clock until his fever broke and he finally awoke. He felt different - an emptiness he couldn’t define - but couldn’t put his finger on why until he looked down at his hands, now hand, and everything came rushing back. His shout of anguish brought his mother running, throwing aside the excuse of a room divider which consisted of a cord strung between two windows on either end of his straw pallet with clothes and rags hanging from it. She gathered him in her arms, whispering soothing words in his ear and rocking him back and forth like she did when he was a small child until his own cries quieted. 

Killian,” she breathed. He pulled back just enough to see her eyes and was shocked at the profound sadness he saw there. “I’m so sorry. Your wolf is gone.” She tried to gather him close again, but he pulled back in alarm instead.

“What?” he asked, confused. “Why!? Is that why I feel different? Not just my hand?”

“Losing a limb,” she imparted on a hitched breath, “kills the wolf inside of you. Until you find your True Love.”

“My True Love?” Killian’s confusion and grief were stronger than ever. “But what if I don’t have a True Love? What if…”

“You mustn’t give up hope, my son,” she said fervently. “You will find her someday, and your wolf will return.”

And today was apparently that day. Killian watched as her eyes widened slightly. He could only hope that she could somehow feel the connection between them. The hum of True Love that he didn’t have time to examine or revel in as Arthur rang the bell signaling the beginning of the contest - of which apparently his True Love was the prize. 

The other men along the wall moved toward her and then all turned to him, the depraved lust in their eyes as they looked at her turning into gleeful anticipation as their gazes settled on him. In that moment, Killian realized they’d somehow all agreed to band together to take him out first, obviously the weakest having only one hand with which to fight. Killian met each of their eyes in turn as they all drew their swords.

“It’s nothing personal, you know,” the tall, arrogant one said. “Can’t allow such an unsuitable, maimed cripple to claim my prize.”

The taunting words were all that was needed for Killian’s wolf to come to the fore. It had been twenty-two years since he’d transformed, but that didn’t mean he didn’t remember exactly what was happening. His own wicked but gleeful grin took over his face as the power of his wolf filled him and he fell to his hands and knees in front of them. The pain-filled howl taking over his mind ripped from his now open maw while the bones, muscles, and sinew in his arms and legs broke, tore, and mended again into their new form. The men before him were frozen in shock, and Killian became aware of an uproar above him among the spectators of the contest. Arthur rang the bell and screamed at the guards and slaves to kill the beast in the arena, but no one moved to do so.

Killian was fully focused on the men in front of him, but was also dimly aware of his True Love. She was still crouched on the ground, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. The transformation now complete, he let loose a full, ringing howl of victory as he leapt toward the largest of the men, still frozen in terror. His claws sank into the man’s chest, blood flowing like rivers down the expanse of bare skin. Killian clamped his jaws down on his head, his canines piercing bone, until with a powerful shake of his head, the skin of the man’s face and the bone underneath tore away from the skull, exposing the soft brain tissue contained within. The man’s screams were abruptly cut off when Killian swiped his claws from the gaping head wound to the top of his chest.

He then turned his attention to the two men on either side of his first victim. He quickly took care of the both of them - the first, ripping his head off with one swipe of his powerful paw, and the second, using all of his front claws to open his enemy’s chest cavity and gut, his intestines spilling to the ground in front of him - before he turned around looking for the one who’d taunted him in the first place.

The smugness was gone, but a look of grim determination had replaced it as the man, armed with only a sword, and wolf circled one another. The uproar among the audience had all but completely died away, the spectators watching in horrified fascination to see who would emerge the victor.

The man lunged and Killian backed up, well out of reach of the sword his opponent wielded. As they circled, Killian became fully aware of something that had only tickled the edge of his mind in the last several minutes as he faced off with the other men. He had both his front paws! Did that mean that his hand would also be restored when he returned to human form? He had no time to ponder the question as his adversary jabbed toward him again.

“Do you really think you can win?” he asked. His eyes gleamed, and the smugness that had disappeared after Killian killed the others was coloring his countenance once again. “You’re nothing but an animal. I’m going to kill you and skin you and hang your pelt on the wall where I can see it every single day for the rest of my life.”

Killian bared his teeth, a low and vicious growl coming from his throat before he surged forward briefly, snapping at the other man. Giving him a good look of exactly what he was up against. Fear flooded his adversary’s eyes, and the hand holding his sword in front of him began to shake uncontrollably. They continued to circle one another, but the man wasn’t paying attention to their surroundings and was nearing the bodies of two of their dead competitors. It was only a moment later when his foot came down squarely on the innards Killian had spilled earlier and flew out from under him, landing him flat on his back amid the blood and gore-covered ground.

Killian wasted no time. With a mighty leap, he landed on top of the man, his claws making ribbons of his enemy’s bare skin. He’d dropped his sword when he fell, and now reached for it as his screams filled Killian’s ears. Biting down on his upper arm, arterial blood sprayed his muzzle as he ripped it clean away from his shoulder. Killian slung the severed limb away before he turned back and tore the man’s throat out. The terror-filled and agonized screams turned to choking gurgles before they died away completely.

Killian looked up into the seats surrounding the arena. The masses were completely quiet and still, obviously not over the shock of what they’d just witnessed. When his gaze landed on Arthur’s, the despot’s eyes widened in panic, and he made haste to exit his elaborately decorated box. The rest of the audience followed the king’s lead, screaming and running for the exits. With another triumphant howl, Killian ran for the wall and cleared it with a single jump. He quickly caught up with the oppressive tyrant, leaping toward him and landing on his back, pushing him to the ground. He bit down on the exposed skin of his neck and was rewarded with another spray of blood signaling the end of the vile oppressor. 

The arena was now empty, save him and his True Love. He leapt back down to the ground and walked slowly towards her. She was crouched on the ground, her head hidden behind her arms, her golden hair shielding most of her body from view. He stopped, unwilling to terrify her even more than he already had, and changed back to his human form. He looked down and gasped when he saw his left hand completely restored.

He moved toward her again as she lifted her head and looked around at the empty arena.

“Where are your captors, milady?” he asked, gently.

“Gone, my lord,” she breathed. “Did you… what…?”

He unclasped the cloak he still wore from around his neck and spread it across her, covering her rags, though there was no one now to gawk or stare lustfully at her. She grabbed the edges and pulled it more fully around her as she rose to her feet, giving him a grateful nod.

“You’re him.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper and was filled with an awe that Killian didn’t understand.

“I’m… who?” he asked, confused.

“You’re him,” she answered, a bit stronger that time. “My True Love.”

Killian couldn’t hope to hide his surprise at her words.

“Yes,” he exclaimed, excitement bubbling over into a beaming smile. “How did you know?”

“You were missing a hand before you transformed,” she explained, haltingly. She couldn’t hold his gaze for any length of time, her eyes bouncing between his and his restored hand that she gently took in her own, her other hand tracing the veins and bones there. “My parents told me before I was taken that if I ever lost a limb, I’d lose my wolf until I found my True Love.”

“You’re a wolf?” Killian almost fell to his knees in shock. He knew there had to be more out there like him, but he’d never met another. Not even his mother. Killian’s wolf came from his father, who’d died long before his own wolf manifested.

She nodded shyly and showed him her arm with the silver bracelet.

“That’s why they put this on me,” she explained. “To keep me from changing. Could you take it off? I can’t. But someone else can.”

“Of course.” He pulled the bracelet off and threw it to the other side of the arena. 

She frowned, and Killian thought he’d never seen anything more adorable in his life. “If they hadn’t forced me to wear it, I would’ve made short work of those two before they could get me two steps in here.” 

Killian smiled and gathered her in his arms, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “That’s my girl.” After holding her for a moment, relishing the feel of her arms around him and the True Love between them, he released her. “My name is Killian. Killian Jones.”

“My name is Emma. Emma Swan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma Swan.” 

She smiled softly and finally met his gaze. “You as well, Killian Jones.” 

She looked around before meeting his eyes once again. “So what now?” she asked. 

“I have no desire to stay here,” he muttered darkly. “Shall we run?”

Her face broke into a beautiful smile. “Yes, please. I haven’t been able to change for almost a year. Since they took me from my home.”

“I have no home,” he said, a note of melancholy in his words. He looked at his True Love again, his mate, and felt a bone deep contentment that he’d never known. “You’re my home now, Emma.”

“And you’re mine, Killian.” Her smile was full of joy as she got down on all fours before him. “Let’s run.”

He joined her on the ground and transformed. When he came back to himself, he saw a pure white wolf in front of him with eyes of green. She tilted her muzzle to the sky and released a long howl before running for the wall surrounding them. He joined her, his howl mixing with hers in a haunting melody that sent chills down his spine. He followed her over the wall and they ran, ran, and ran away from their past and into their future.

Together.

~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing!!! I hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear what you thought!!! Please give Kit all the love as well for her gorgeous artwork!!! The Supernatural Summer will continue with more fics and art dropping about every other day through the end of August, and I so hope you enjoy this last round!!!

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (13/13)

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

A/N: We've made it! The final chapter is here. Thank you all for going on this journey with me! I hope is does not disappoint!

Much love to my @kmomof4 and @ultraluckycatnd for being amazing cheerleaders and betas! A shout out to all of you who sent me prompts. This fic would not exist without y'all!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

“There has to be a way out of here,” Killian grumbled as they hit yet another dead end.

Never had he been more eager to get his Swan to safety. Sure, the man who’d been tasked to eliminate her may well be dead, but that didn’t mean she was out of danger. Cassidy was still lurking somewhere within the maze and Killian didn’t want to take any chances of him getting his hands on Emma.

“Killian?” Emma whispered softly next to him, both of them trying to draw as little attention to themselves and their position as possible. “What do we do if Neal finds us before we make it out of here? Assuming there is a way out.”

“There has to be,” Killian replied, bypassing her initial question and leading them down a new corridor. Or had they already been down this way? “Pan can’t trap us in here forever.”

“Sure he can.”

Killian and Emma spun around, stunned to find Neal Cassidy making his way around the corner they’d just turned. Where had he come from? That way had been a dead end. Hadn’t it?

A baseball bat was firmly gripped in one hand as he menacingly tapped the cap of it in the other. No need to guess the weapon he was meant to use in order to complete the grizzly task Pan had assigned him.

“Looks like Emma already took care of your dear old dad,” Neal commented, his eyes taking in the blood soaked into Killian’s sweatpants and smeared across his bare torso and chest. Shifting his attention to Emma he added, “I knew Pan would give you Brennan, leaving Killian and I to duke it out to the death.”

Killian let the man keep his wrong assumptions and tightened his grip on Emma’s hand, hoping she would do the same. Having his focus on Killian as both his target and would-be assassin allowed them the upper hand, even if they were both loath for Emma to be in a position to have to take the man’s life. Neither of them wanted it to come to that, but Neal seemed not the least bit concerned with the idea of cold-blooded murder.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” Neal murmured darkly, continuing his advance as Killian and Emma both crept backward down the corridor, unwilling to take their eyes off the danger in front of them. “Do you know how often I’ve dreamt of killing you? How many times I begged Pan to let me be the one to punish you?”

Arriving at a T junction, Killian signaled for Emma to go to her right, hanging behind for a moment to ensure Neal did not lunge at them unexpectedly. She’d only just rounded the corner when a panel slid out from the wall, cutting him off from her completely. Forgetting about Neal, Killian spun around and yelled Emma’s name, desperately feeling his way along the panel for a way to remove it.

“Swan!” he hollered, but was unable to determine whether or not she could hear him. Her name had only just left his lips when a whooshing sound gave him a mere moments warning of Neal’s attack. Ducking out of the way, Killian nearly had his head taken clean off by the swing of Neal’s bat, which instead collided with the solid panel separating them from Emma.

“Quick bastard, aren’t you?” Neal muttered, taking aim once more.

His next swing was stalled when Killian demanded to know, “Where’s Emma? How did you manage to separate us?”

“Don’t look at me, pal,” Neal scoffed. “Haven't you noticed the walls moving before now? Hallways seal themselves all the time, creating new dead ends. It’s all part of Pan’s genius.”

“Awfully enamored with Pan, aren’t you?” Killian stated derisively.

“Pan is my family,” Neal shot back. “He’s always looked out for me.” Cocking his head to one side, a sneer crept over his lip as he taunted, “Unlike your own father who left you and your brother to rot in foster care. Left you to the mercy of someone like John Silver.”

Killian tamped down the anxiety and panic the mention of his abusive foster father’s name brought up. He could not afford to let Neal rile him up or make him lose focus. In fact, perhaps it was time to turn the tables.

“Always looked out for you?” Killian countered. “Was he looking out for you when he brought Emma here? When he let me have her instead of you?” Neal’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the grip of the bat tighter in his hands, his teeth grinding together in anger and rage Killian hoped he could work to his advantage. “Tell me, Neal,” Killian continued to taunt, “How was Pan looking out for you when he let me pleasure Emma? Let me caress her body and taste her cunt before fucking her to heights of ecstacy you were incapable of giving her?”

A guttural roar of rage preceded the wild swing of Neal’s bat, but Killian managed to side-step it before it made contact.

“Or was he looking out for you when he forced Emma to her knees to suck me off?” Killian said, throwing another barb at the man who was growing more and more unhinged by the second. “Or when she washed me, or kissed me, or fondled me, or rode me like a bloody goddess?”

Another savage swing broke the air, but when this one also missed its target, Neal, in a rage, rushed at Killian, nearly knocking the breath out of him as they both landed on the ground.

“You think any of that meant something? You think it means she’s yours?” Neal bellowed, striking Killian in the jaw with his fist when he attempted to get up, landing him flat on his back once more. “She’ll never be yours!” Neal roared. “She’s mine!”

Crushing the bat against Kiliian’s windpipe, Neal continued to rail at him. Perhaps he’d done too good of a job riling the man up in the hopes he’d make a mistake. It was clear, however, that Killian had been the one who’d made the fatal error. Frantically, he clawed at Neal’s hands as the man continued to spit vitriol at him, not that he heard a word of it, the sound of his blood thundering in his ears as a ringing began to swell from the lack of oxygen effectively drowned the murderous man out.

No! He couldn’t let the man win. He couldn’t leave his Emma at the mercy of Pan and Neal. He couldn’t… he had to… he must…

Killian’s vision began to tunnel, the black edges of oblivion quickly creeping in as the pressure in his face and head continued to build and his lungs screamed from want of air. With the last of his strength he tried anything and everything he could to dislodge the man from his chest and bat from his throat, but it was no use. Neal would not be moved.

The last vestiges of consciousness began to leave him, his final coherent thoughts of his Swan and the grief he felt as he mourned the life they could have had together. He wished he could see her one last time. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell her he--

Killian jolted from the blast of gunshots that rang out and his lungs suddenly opened, allowing him to draw in a much needed breath. His eyes, which he hadn’t even realized had shut, flew open in time to see Neal Cassidy being propelled backward by the force of the bullets hitting his chest, blood splatter from his wounds erupting in the air and hitting Killian in the face as he continued to choke and gasp for breath.

“Killian!” Emma screamed, her footfalls rushing towards him as he rolled over onto all fours in an attempt to get up. She practically knocked him on his back again, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Careful, love,” he choked out, settling back onto his heels as he knelt before her, threading his fingers through her hair and holding her as close to him as he possibly could. Once he was able to breathe again without a choking fit, he pulled back and looked over at Neal’s prone body.

“Is he… dead?”

“I unloaded the clip on him,” Emma told him, her tone giving away none of what she might be feeling over the matter. “So, yeah. He’s dead.”

“Good.”

She released a heavy breath in response, tears pooling in her eyes as relief seemed to engulf her. Cupping her cheek, Killian nuzzled his nose against hers and affirmed, “You did what you had to do, Swan. You saved me.”

“I tried to hurry,” she told him in a slightly hysterical tone. “I knew there had to be a way back around to you. I’m sorry it took me so long to find it.”

“Shhh, love,” Killian soothed, pulling her back into his arms and cradling her head against his chest. “It’s all right now.”

Emma’s eyes fell shut and a tear slipped past her lashes. Before Killian could wipe it away they were both startled by the sound of more panels closing in around them. Getting to their feet they frantically looked about for a means of escape, but there was none. All access points had been closed off to them.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Killian hollered, grabbing on to Emma’s hand for fear they might get separated again. “It’s over! We completed your tasks and survived! We won! Why have you trapped us in here?”

“Yes, yes,” Pan said in an unenthusiatic tone with a half-hearted slow clap accompanying his words. “You’ve won. Congratulations.”

“That's right!” Emma chimed in. “We won, so let us out! You said we’d earn our freedom if--”

“And I am a man of my word,” Pan replied, though there was clear reluctance in his tone. “Even if letting you go will end up costing me dearly. Think of the revenue I’ll lose from my guests when they discover their favorite playthings are no longer available to them?”

“Forgive me if I don’t lose any sleep over it,” Killian grit out through clenched teeth. “Something tells me you’ll manage just fine without us.”

“I suppose,” Pan sighed. “Part of the fun was watching your father and Neal suffer and stew while I played with you. Now that they’re gone…” Another heavy exhale filled the corridor as a panel slid open. “Well, I suppose a deal’s a deal. Pan says, follow the corridor.”

“Wait!” Emma called out, clearly unconvinced that he meant to make good. “This is really it, right? You’re letting us go? We’re free? Forever?”

“Of course,” Pan replied. “Unless you would wish to stay and remain a part of my--”

“Fuck that,” Killian said, pulling Emma along the corridor with haste, ready to be done with this god forsaken place once and for all.

The path led them back to one of the rooms they’d started in and a cold stone of dread dropped in Killian’s stomach when the door shut behind them.

“I knew it!” Emma exclaimed. “I knew it was a trick! I knew he never meant to--”

Her words were cut off by the hissing sound of the fog filling the room. Terror filled green eyes caught his own as they stared at one another in fear.

“K-Killian?” Emma stammered. “Do you… do you think he means to--”

“Relax,” Pan’s voice exasperated from the speaker. “It’s only going to knock you both out. I can’t have you remembering any details that might lead the authorities back here, now can I?”

A shuddering exhale of relief left Killian’s lungs, but it was replaced with a fresh breath of panic. Where did he mean to take them? Would they remain together or would he dump them back where he’d had them grabbed that fateful night?

“Swan,” Killian said desperately. The air around them was already filling with the noxious choking gas and he knew they didn’t have much time. “I’ll find you,” he promised. “If when we wake we aren’t… I swear I’ll find you.”

“I know you will,” she said, clinging to him as she nodded furiously. “Or I’ll find you. We’ll find each other.”

“Aye.” Pressing his forehead to hers, he lowered them to their knees, not wishing for either of them to become injured when they eventually lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

“Killian, I…” Emma gazed up at him, a sentiment he’d longed to hear swirling in her jade depths as the words began to form on her lips. “ I lo--”

“Don’t,” Killian said, cutting her off. “Not here. Not like this.” Taking her face in both hands he pleaded with her, “Tell me when we’re free. Tell me after… after you’ve found me or I’ve found you. Please, love.”

“As you wish,” she slurred out, her body becoming too heavy for his weakened arms to hold. Together, they collapsed to the ground, their bodies entwined with one another as darkness pulled them under.

~/~

A horn blared from the street outside the window jarring Emma awake. Bolting upright, she was stunned to find herself in her apartment, the air thick with two months worth of dust collecting on the surfaces. Glancing down to assess her physical state, she was again taken aback. Someone had dressed her in the very clothes she’d been wearing when she’d disappeared. The same tight jeans, the same gray tank top, the same red leather jacket, the same tall boots, even the same ponytail, she realized, reaching back to run a hand over her hair.

Out of instinct she called out for Killian, hoping against hope he might be somewhere in her apartment as well. After a very short, quick search - her place was tiny with only an open concept living and kitchen area, a bathroom, and a bedroom - she was devastated to discover she was alone.

Patting at her pockets, she found her phone tucked away in one of the interior ones of her jacket. A curse fell from her lips when she tried to unlock it. The thing was completely dead. Rushing to her bedroom, she started tearing it apart in search of her phone charger, all the while trying to decide who she should attempt to contact first.

Obviously, she needed to find Killian, but there was also David and Mary Margaret to consider. They’d been through hell and she didn’t want them to suffer a moment longer than they had to. Not to mention, the police had to be notified, she was probably gonna need a good lawyer, she was desperate to find out if Henry had indeed been returned to his mother, it would probably be a good idea to have a doctor check her out, but out of all of the concerns and worries spiraling through her brain, the thing that continued to drive her as she searched for her damn phone charger was Killian.

She had to find Killian.

Someone started pounding on her front door, causing Emma to freeze. As the assault against her door continued, Emma realized there was one thing that had not been returned to her from the night Pan had her taken.

Her gun.

Looking about for something she could use as a weapon, Emma froze again when a voice began to accompany the banging.

“Killian?” Sprinting to the door, she didn’t even check the peephole before throwing it open.

Hand still raised, ready to set another round of knocks on the surface of her door, Killian stared back at her with equal disbelief and elation.

“Swan,” he breathed, barely able to complete the exhale before Emma launched herself into his arms.

He struggled to keep hold of her and make his way into her apartment as she wrapped her legs around his waist and peppered his face with kisses.

“How… How are you here… How did you… find me so fast.”

“It was Pan,” he muffled against her lips, causing her to flinch back.

“What?”

Setting her back on her feet, he reached into the pocket of the jeans he wore - tight fitted jeans paired with an equally tight black shirt, charcoal colored waist coat, and a black leather bomber style jacket - and produced a familiar looking folded piece of paper.

Closing the door as she took the message from him with trembling fingers, Killian recited the words as Emma read them.

“Pan says… find her.”

Included on the paper was her full address.

“Well,” she said, wetting her lips and handing the note back to him. “Good thing you did, because tomorrow I’m moving to an unregistered address.”

Killian chuckled and they were back in each other’s arms, lips sliding and tongues tangling as their hands clung to the fabric of the other’s clothes.

“You’re alright? Truly?” he murmured in the space between them when they broke apart for air.

“Yes,” she assured him. “But I’m not sure how long I was out. I only woke up a few minutes before you arrived.” Pulling back further, she gazed up at him and asked, “How did you get here so fast?”

With a stunned expression, as though he himself hadn’t quite gotten over the shock of what he was about to relay to her, he said, “I live just on the other side of town.”

Emma was struck by the fact they never once talked about where they lived. All of his stories had been of his life back in the UK, having only mentioned once in passing that he’d moved to the US for a fresh start after his court martial.

“After I woke up and saw the note, I raced over here. Breaking several traffic laws in the process, I’m sure.” Taking her face back into his hands, he caressed the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “I had to see. I had to see for myself that you were alright.”

Reaching up, she placed her hands over his and closed her eyes, letting his touch and the comfort of his presence wash over her. When she opened her eyes again, she led them to her sofa, asking, “What about Liam? Or the police? Have you--”

“I called Liam on my way here,” he told her. “He’s booking the first flight out.”

“I guess I half expected him to already be in the States, working with the police or at least connecting with David and Mary--”

“Aye, he did all that,” Killian added, cutting her off so he could relay what Liam had told him over the phone. “After our phone calls to them, Liam and David and Mary Margaret were in contact with one another immediately and he came here to help them convince the police to take up the case again. Unfortunately, his leave ran out and he had to go back, but he said he would reach out to David and Mary Margaret, as well as the detective that’s working our case, to let them know of my return.” With knitted brows he looked around and said, “I’m surprised they aren't blowing up your phone or already at your door.”

“My phone is dead.” She nodded at the coffee table where the useless device was still laying, then glanced around once more as she said, “I was looking for the charger when you…” Emma returned her gaze to his, not wanting to take her eyes off him for fear he might simply disappear. Shaking off the absurdity of that feeling - while trying to convince herself it was absurd - Emma cleared her throat and informed him, “David and Mary Margaret live more than an hour away, so… we have a bit of time before they come barging in.”

“Aye,” Killian acknowledged. “And Liam asked that I wait to go to the station until after he arrives. He uh… he wants to be here. To support me through…”

“Of course he does,” Emma said, running her hand up and down his arm in a supportive and comforting manner. “He’s your brother and he loves you.”

Killian stood and started to pace, his hands sweeping through his hair over and over again. “I’m not sure what I’m going to tell him,” he confided. “About what we’ve been through. About what we… what I had to do in order to gain my…” Stopping dead in his tracks he looked over at Emma with mournful eyes and asked, “How am I going to tell him about Brennan? How do I confess to him that I killed our father?”

Emma sprang up for the couch and wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. “You didn’t kill him, Killian. You weren’t the one responsible for his death. And regardless, you won’t have to face it alone. You won’t have to do any of this alone.” Craning her neck, she captured his gaze and reminded him, “We will get through this the way we’ve gotten through everything else. Together.”

“Aye, love,” he expelled on a relieved breath, crushing her to him. “Together.”

After a few more minutes of simply holding one another, Killian loosened his grip and chagrined, “I’m sorry, Swan. I know I’m not the only one facing a daunting amount of trauma to work through.” Taking her hands in his, he brushed his thumbs over her knuckles, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily before he spoke. “I know now that my father sacrificed everything to protect Liam and me. That he gave up his life to ensure I had a future.” Gently, he placed her hands against his chest and cradled them there, flicking his gaze up to meet hers, the intensity swirling in those forget-me-not depths nearly drowning her. “And I damn well intend to have one,” he murmured fiercely, their lips now only a hairsbreadth apart. “I know you must have your own trepidations about entering back into the world, but I want you to know that I will be by your side. For all of it. Always.”

“I know,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his and losing herself in the fervor of his kiss and the promise it left simmering between them.

After taking a much needed breath, Emma burrowed her face into his chest, refusing to let go as she tightened her arms around him. “For now though?” she implored. “For the little bit of time we have before David gets here and goes all Nolan, or before the police descend with their questions and interrogations, or before your brother arrives and I have to worry about earning his approval…” Killian chuckled at that, giving her a comforting and commiserating squeeze. “Can we just… do this? Can we just… be? Can we just leave the world outside for a little bit longer? I just want you to hold me. Can you just hold me and let me forget about everything else for a while?”

“Aye, love,” he murmured into her hair. “I can do that.”

The tightening of Killian’s arms around her alerted Emma that there was something she needed to do first.

“Um… actually,” she said apologetically, wiggling out of his embrace and shooting him a slightly embarrassed look. “Real quick, I need to um… use the restroom. Sorry.”

Killian chuckled again and fully let her go. “Go,” he said in an amused breath. “Take care of necessities while I make myself useful and get us some tea.” Waggling his brows at her he added, “Then we can cuddle up with a cuppa until the masses arrive.”

Emma smiled and threw out instructions of where to find things as she made her way to the bathroom. When she reached the door, she paused and turned back.

“Oh, and Killian?”

“Aye?”

Drawing in a cleansing breath, she declared, “I love you.”

He whirled around from the cabinets and beamed at her, elated. “And I you, Emma,” he murmured back, clearly torn between taking her in his arms again and letting her continue on with what she needed to do. “And I you.”

“Hold that thought,” she told him with a coy smile, her hand pressed against the bathroom door while her attention remained focused on him for a second longer. Watching him smile that adorable boyish grin as he went back to puttering around her kitchen, Emma placed her other hand over her chest. Her heart was full and feeling as though it might burst from relief and joy and hope and a certainty that settled deep within her.

They were going to be okay. There was a lot for them to face and get through and overcome, but… he loved her and she loved him. They were going to be okay.

Swinging the door open, she stepped into the bathroom, then stopped short with a gasp falling from her lips that took her elated smile with it.

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed before clamping a hand over her mouth.

Killian’s rushed footfalls were accompanied by his frantic tone as he demanded, “What is it? Swan, are you--”

She flicked her gaze up to the mirror, her face white and her eyes wide as saucers. When he joined her his attention was on her reflection, but then followed her gaze as it returned to the counter, and the note laying there.

A note she somehow had not seen earlier when she’d quickly checked the bathroom for Killian.

A note that was sitting atop a very distinctive object.

“Is that…”

A pregnancy test.

Emma nodded and they both leaned down to take a closer look. Hands shaking, Emma picked up the stick and a shuddering breath left her lungs as Killian read the scrawling words that had been penned on the paper.

Pan says, congratulations are in order.

The End

(cue evil laugh)

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

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[undercaffinatednightmare]

Blackberry Summers - Chapter 3

What’s this? Another chapter and it’s not even Wednesday? 😱

The chapter count is up!

Tag!

@jrob64 @resident-of-storybrooke @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @beckettj @zaharadessert @winterbaby89 @earanemith @everything-person @elizabeethan @elfiola @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @teamhook @caught-in-the-filter @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @kmomof4 @laianely @stahlop @gingerchangeling @hollyethecurious @exhaustedpirate @ultraluckycatnd @xarandomdreamx @belovedcreation @shady-swan-jones @ohmakemeahercules @bdevereaux-blanche @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @poptart-cat-78 @snowbellewells

[jrob64]

Ghosted

Chapter 1 - Hauntings

Here is the first chapter of my contribution for this year's Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. I have many people to thank for helping me get this written and posted by my assigned date.

Thank you to my fellow mods of CSSNS24 - @winterbaby89 @stahlop @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. I'm so glad we've had such a great response to this last event!

More thanks to Krystal for creating the absolutely amazing pic set for this story. It turned out great, didn't it? Making Neal and Liam appear ghostly was the handiwork of @motherkatereloyshipper, so she also deserves my appreciation.

Rounding out my list of thank yous is my ever-loyal beta, @hookedmom. I've been writing CS stories for nearly six years and she's been with me for the vast majority of them!

I anticipate this story being 3-4 chapters long in total. It isn't completely written yet, so unfortunately I can't provide a posting schedule, but I assure you it WILL be finished. If you're not on my tag list and would like to be informed when future chapters post, please let me know.

DISCLAIMER: All I know about ghost hunting is what I've watched on Ghost Adventures (which is worth watching simply for the entertainment factor.) I also know next to nothing about how YouTube works beyond being a viewer. Please excuse all errors and keep in mind that this is fanfic and isn't meant to be completely accurate!

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan’s ex-boyfriend dies, she’s haunted by his ghost. Her neighbor, Killian Jones, a ghost hunter who has a YouTube channel, realizes what’s happening and offers to help. However, there’s more at stake than simply helping the apparition move on. There’s also the matter of Killian telling Emma he’s in love with her.

Rating: T (subject to change)

Words (Chapter 1): 4700

Also posted to ffn and Ao3

Juggling a large Americano and a blueberry scone, Emma Swan made a beeline across the coffee shop for the small table in the corner. Whenever she stopped in, she tried to sit there because it was beside the window and was only big enough for one chair. Even when the shop was crowded, no one could join her or bother her by asking if ‘this seat is taken’. She could be left alone, which was the way she preferred it in the mornings.

Taking a sip of the near-scalding beverage, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, savoring the aromatic flavor on her tongue. She tried not to make a habit of coming to this shop, but her coffee maker died over the weekend and she needed her shot of caffeine.

She was nibbling on the corner of her scone when she felt her phone vibrate with an incoming text. Pulling it out of the back pocket of her jeans, she saw that it was from her friend Ruby. The partial message on the lock screen said I’ve got huge news. Are you sitting down?

Emma huffed out a sound of amusement as she unlocked her phone. Ruby’s ‘huge’ news was probably that Graham Humbert, who worked at the police station where Ruby was the dispatcher, had switched to a different scent of cologne. Instead, her eyes widened as she read the rest of the message:

They found Neal Cassidy dead in his cell this morning. Apparent suicide. Guess you won’t have to worry about him stalking you again when he gets out.

It took her a few moments to digest the information. For nearly two years, thoughts of that man had never been far from the forefront of her mind. The memories of their blossoming romantic relationship, which were replaced by her suspicions and ultimate confirmation of his criminal activities, raced through her brain as she stared at the message for an inordinate amount of time.

When she finally started typing a response to Ruby, a shadow fell across the table, blocking the late morning sun. It didn’t move for several moments, so she glanced up, meaning to find the source of it on the other side of the window.

And looked directly into the eyes of Neal Cassidy.

Shocked beyond words, she squeezed her eyes closed, then blinked repeatedly before she looked up again, her heart hammering in her chest.

He was gone.

*********

Emma met Neal at a car dealership where he worked as a salesman. She was looking to trade in her yellow VW bug for something more reliable and he was eager to help. He was charming and funny, so when he asked her out on a date after the sale was made, she didn’t hesitate to accept.

They dated for six months before she started getting the feeling that he was selling more than cars. Hearing him have secretive one-sided conversations on the phone and seeing him meet shady looking characters in neighborhoods known to be frequented by crime lords made her suspicious, but the day she found a small bag of crack cocaine in his apartment was the day she was officially done with him.

When she broke it off, Neal begged her to stay, bragging about how he was in line to become very important and wealthy someday soon, and would provide her with everything her heart desired. Emma assured him she did not desire to be in the company of drug dealers and walked away, determined to put that chapter of her life behind her.

Having witnessed his sales techniques, she was well aware that he was persistent, but his persistence rapidly turned into obsession. She received dozens of texts from him every day, along with numerous calls she refused to answer. After listening to a few voicemails he left declaring his love for her, she deleted the rest and blocked his number.

That didn’t deter him, though. He continued showing up at her apartment, the gym where she worked out, and her place of employment - the swanky hotel where she tended bar. It was annoying, but she didn’t feel threatened and didn’t think a restraining order against him was necessary.

After several months of rebuffing or simply ignoring him, she was relieved when two days in a row went by without any contact from him. Then Ruby called to tell her he had been busted for drug trafficking and was awaiting a hearing. A trial followed, he was sentenced to five years in prison, and Emma hoped she had seen the last of Neal Cassidy.

*********

Emma dragged herself up the two flights of stairs to her apartment on wobbly legs. She was still trembling from the encounter at the coffee shop, unable to shake the image of her deceased ex-boyfriend from her mind.

She had finally managed to send Ruby a text, asking her if she had proof Neal was actually dead. Ruby replied that her friend Dorothy, who worked at the prison where Neal was serving his time, saw his body on the gurney as he was taken out, and talked to the guard who found him hanging by a bed sheet. He was definitely dead.

The only explanation Emma could come up with for seeing Neal outside the window was that the shock of reading Ruby’s text caused her to conjure an image of him. But that didn’t explain the feeling she had of being watched or followed all the way home, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

When she reached the third floor, she wasn’t surprised to see her friend and neighbor, Killian Jones, in the hallway between their two doors, fiddling with a metal box which was emitting a strange humming sound. As a paranormal investigator and the host of a popular YouTube channel called “Killian Jones - Ghost Hunter”, he was always trying out various pieces of equipment.

He glanced up, his striking blue eyes fastening on her before his face split into a grin. “Hey, Swan. How are you today?”

She answered vaguely as she stopped in front of her door. Suddenly, the humming sound increased in volume and pitch and Killian’s smile faded into a look of confusion. Picking up what looked like a radar gun laying beside him on the floor, he stood and held it between himself and Emma.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, too intent on circling her slowly and studying the numbers on the gadget. When he finally looked up several seconds later, he hesitantly commented, “Swan…it appears you have a…a ghost following you.”

Emma felt the blood drain from her face and her knees buckle, which was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.

Killian barely caught Emma in time to keep her from hitting the floor as she fainted. Hoisting her up into his arms, he carried her inside his apartment. This was not how he expected her to end up in his arms, but he would take what he could get.

*********

The two of them had lived beside each other ever since Killian moved into the apartment next to hers when he arrived in Boston five years ago. At first, they just exchanged pleasantries when they passed in the hall. After a few months, they began to have short conversations about the weather and their frustration with the landlord. That led to them doing favors for one another, such as taking in packages, bringing the other’s clothes upstairs from the laundry room, and picking up items one of them forgot to buy at the grocery store. Eventually, they built up enough trust in each other that they traded apartment keys to make it more convenient to drop things off.

Every once in a while, they would share a pizza while watching TV in one of their apartments. Seeing Emma so relaxed in her own home, laughing and bantering with him, started Killian down the road of developing deeper feelings toward her. He was enamored with her wit and intelligence and thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

At times, he witnessed men coming to her door to pick her up for a date, something that always left him feeling bereft. Fortunately, most of them never came around more than once. He enjoyed listening to her humorous assessments of each man’s shortcomings afterwards.

Then she started dating Neal Cassidy, and during those months, Killian hardly saw her. When he did bump into the couple, Neal treated him with disdain, looking down his nose at him and scoffing at everything Killian said. It was made worse by the fact that Emma didn’t even seem to notice. Killian was sure he had missed his chance of acting on his feelings for her.

He almost felt guilty for being ecstatic upon finding out she’d broken up with Neal. His happiness turned to concern and then anger when Emma told him Neal wouldn’t leave her alone. The two men had words several times when Killian found him hanging around in the hall outside her apartment. Then Emma told him Neal had been arrested and sent to prison, and he was beyond relieved that the idiot wouldn’t be bothering her anymore.

Still, Killian didn’t ask her out, reasoning that she’d just gotten out of a bad relationship. He continued to fall for her more and more, while she remained completely unaware of his burgeoning feelings toward her. Feelings that, by now, felt a lot like love.

*********

After laying her on his couch, Killian tapped Emma’s cheeks, urging, “Swan! Swan! Wake up! You have to wake up, Love.” When she didn’t respond, he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Bloody hell, Lass. I didn’t mean to frighten you that badly.”

He glanced around the living room, trying to figure out what to do to help Emma regain consciousness. Going into his kitchen, he took a clean dish towel out of the drawer, placed some ice cubes inside and while there, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

She was still out cold when he emerged a minute later. Concern etched his face. In all the years he lived next door to Emma Swan, he never knew her to be anything but tough and strong. Seeing her lying there so ashen and unmoving unnerved him. He lifted her head slightly to place the ice under her neck.

Convinced there was nothing more he could do at the moment, he went back out to the hallway and collected his EMF meter, noticing that it was back to a steady hum. Picking up the infrared thermometer he had dropped, he saw the temperature had returned to normal. No more cold spots. Apparently whatever spirit that had entered the hallway with Emma was gone.

Reentering his apartment, he sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa to keep vigil over his neighbor, continuing to pat her cheeks and call her name from time to time. After several more long minutes, her eyelids began to flutter, then slowly opened. Her eyes darted around, obviously trying to figure out where she was. He could tell the moment she figured it out, because she groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Please tell me I didn’t faint,” she pleaded.

“I wish I could, but that would be untrue,” he responded, tilting his head to offer her a small, reassuring smile when she uncovered her eyes.

She started to sit up, but he put a hand to her shoulder to stop her. “Easy, Swan. Better lie still a bit longer.”

With a huff of annoyance, she laid back down, adjusting the ice pack behind her neck. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.”

She lay quietly for a while, nibbling on her bottom lip. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why, uh…why did you say that I had a ghost with me?”

She was obviously trying to pass off the question as being simply one of curiosity, but the look in her eyes told him she was quite serious about it.

“The infrared thermometer showed a definite cold spot and the EMF detector…”

“EMF detector?” she questioned. “What’s that?”

He sighed in frustration. “Don’t you ever watch my videos, Swan?” No matter how many times he talked to her about his show, he could never get her to commit to watching his YouTube channel.

“You know I don’t believe in ghosts,” she said.

He rolled his eyes before explaining. “An EMF detector measures electromagnetic fields. A high reading indicates the presence of a spirit.” He paused, making sure he worded his next statement carefully. “And perhaps you had better rethink your position on ghosts, because my instruments strongly suggested paranormal activity around you.”

She closed her eyes and cursed. Killian picked up the bottle of water and held it out to her. She sat up and accepted it, taking a long drink as she propped her feet on the table beside him.

“Care to enlighten me as to why you fainted when I told you my findings?” he inquired.

Capping the bottle, she held it against her forehead for a minute or two - long enough for Killian to wonder if she was going to give him an answer. Finally, she looked up at him and murmured, “Do you remember Neal Cassidy?”

“The wanker who hung around outside your apartment for months after you broke up with him?”

“That’s the one. Did I tell you that he was sentenced to prison for drug trafficking?”

“Aye, you did.”

“Well, apparently he hung himself in his cell. They found his body this morning.”

Killian let out a low whistle. “You think it could be his spirit that was causing my instruments to spike?”

She looked down again, fiddling with the label on the water bottle. “Possibly…because…” She drew in a deep breath. “Because I saw him outside the coffee shop this morning,” she said on an exhale.

Trying not to overreact and make Emma even more uncomfortable, he swallowed hard. “Now, when you say you saw him…”

“I mean I saw him,” she emphasized. “My friend Ruby texted to tell me about Neal’s death and as I was in the process of answering her, I noticed this shadow that didn’t move outside the window where I was sitting. When I looked up, Neal was standing there, staring right at me. I blinked, then he was gone.”

Killian’s ‘ghost hunter’ mind was getting excited about the prospect of being able to investigate a spirit practically under his own nose, but his heart went out to her. Being haunted was something he was more or less used to, but he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“Did you see him again after that?” he asked.

“No, but I had this…feeling while I was walking home; like someone was watching me. It really freaked me out.”

“So when I told you there was a ghost following you…”

“It was lights out for me.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never fainted before.”

Killian reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “There’s no reason for embarrassment, Love. I’ve met many people who’ve had the exact same reaction when faced with the possibility of being in the presence of a ghost.”

“Seriously?”

He rubbed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his impatience. “If you watched my YouTube channel, you would be aware of that.”

“No offense, but the last thing I want to do right now is watch people being haunted.”

“That’s quite understandable, considering what you’ve been through today.”

She took another swig of water, then looked up at him. “Do you think he’s gone? Moved on, or whatever?”

Killian blew out a breath. “Probably not. My guess is he has unfinished business or he would have already moved on.”

“That’s just great,” Emma muttered sarcastically. “How long can I expect him to hang around?”

“Until he accomplishes what he needs to do.”

“So what am I supposed to do until then?” she moaned.

“Just go about your daily routine. If you see him or sense he’s there, gently tell him that he has died and needs to move on.”

 “So saying ‘go to hell’ wouldn’t be a wise choice?”

He bark laughed. “I’m not sure that would be very effective.”

She drained the rest of the water, set the empty bottle on the table and stood up. Killian stood too, placing his hand on the small of her back. “Alright there, Swan?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m gonna go get something to eat and take it easy this afternoon until I have to go to work.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” As she started toward the door, he added, “Uh, Emma? Could I ask a favor of you?”

She turned to look at him. “A favor for the guy who carried me into his apartment and took care of me when I fainted like a prissy debutante? Sure.”

“If, um, if Neal’s spirit does reappear, would you be opposed to letting me document it?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she tilted her head in contemplation. “What would you do exactly?”

“Use equipment to detect paranormal activity and post it to my YouTube channel.”

“You mean that ESPN detector and stuff like that?”

He sighed in exasperation. “It’s EMF, Swan. Yes, that and voice recorders to conduct EVP sessions…”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Stop saying letters. You know I don’t know what that shit means.”

“Electronic voice phenomena sessions record sounds or voices from ghosts. If he’s trying to communicate with you, we might be able to pick it up on a voice recorder.”

Shrugging, she replied, “That’s fine. I’m sure it would get lots of hits for your channel.”

He stepped into her personal space, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I hope you know that’s not why I want to do this, Emma. My goal is to help you encourage him to move on so you will no longer have to deal with him. It’s bad enough he stalked you while he was alive; doing it after he’s dead is even worse.”

She gave a slight nod. “You’re right about that.” Pushing up to her toes, she brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks again for everything, Killian. If I get the feeling he’s back, I’ll call you right away.”

“Day or night, Swan. I’m at your beck and call.”

“Good to know,” she smirked. “I’ll see you later.”

He watched her walk out the door, reaching up to rub his cheek where she kissed him. He was going to have to do his best to remain professional around her, but potentially having Emma as his next subject was going to be quite the challenge.

*********

Emma entered her apartment, quickly flipped on the light switch, and glanced around nervously. Not seeing or sensing anything out of the ordinary, she moved into the kitchen.

After heating up leftovers and eating lunch, she climbed into her worn, comfy recliner to scroll through Hulu. She tried to concentrate on her selected show, but her eyes kept darting around the room. “Fuck you, Neal,” she muttered. “Making me paranoid in my own home.”

Finally giving up on watching TV, she went into her bedroom to select her clothes for work that evening. Then she decided to take a long, relaxing bath. The longer she soaked in the tub without any sign of Neal’s ghostly image, the more she relaxed.

By the time she left for work three hours later, she was nearly back to her normal self and very hopeful that he had indeed moved on.

*********

After Emma left his apartment, Killian tidied up - dumping the melting ice cubes into the sink, hanging the towel to dry, and throwing the empty water bottle into his recycling bin. Then he checked all of his ghost hunting equipment, setting the batteries to charge if they were a little low.

Plopping down on the couch, he pulled up the message app on his phone and clicked on the group text with his technical director, Belle French, and his assistant, Will Scarlett.

K: We may have a new gig right here in my apartment building.

As expected, he got an immediate response from Will. The man’s eyes were practically glued to his phone screen most of the time.

W: Got a haunter right under your nose, do ya?

Belle’s answer several minutes later was a little more refined.

B: Can you provide us with any details?

K: My neighbor’s ex-boyfriend committed suicide in prison and she’s experiencing some paranormal activity. She says she saw his ghost outside a coffee shop and when she got home, I was in the hall with the EMF meter and thermo. Both of them spiked.

B: Oh, wow! That’s incredible! Sad for the guy and your neighbor, but what an opportunity!

W: Is this neighbor the hot blonde you’ve been crushin’ on for years?

Killian dropped his head back and groaned. He should have known better than to have confessed his unrequited feelings to his assistant during a boring all-nighter in an old warehouse in Portland, Maine last year.

K: That’s a very crass way to put it, but yes, it’s Emma.

W: You mean we might actually get to meet her?

K: Not if you’re going to be an ass about it.

W: I’ll be on me best behavior, I promise.

K: Why doesn’t that reassure me?

B: What are your plans, Killian?

Leave it to Belle to be the peacemaker of the conversation, Killian thought. If he was feeling vengeful toward Will, he could mention the crush his friend had on the auburn-haired beauty. How she never realized it, Killian would never know. Will was the very definition of heart eyes whenever he was around her.

K: I’ve got my equipment ready to go. If she senses anything, she’s going to call me. If it’s a recurring thing, we’ll set up an EVP session. I’ll let you know if anything happens. Just wanted to put you on alert.

B: Sounds good. I’ll be editing tomorrow. The new episode should be ready to post by Thursday.

K: Thanks, Belle. You’re the best!

W: He’s right, ya know. You really are bloody brilliant.

Seriously - how could she not see it when Will was always falling all over himself to proclaim her perfection?

Once Killian ended the conversation, he wandered into the room he used as his office.

“Hello, little brother.”

*********

From a very early age, Killian had been able to sense paranormal activity. He was confused by it for many years, but as he grew and began to read about ghosts, he realized he had a gift, albeit an unwanted one.

When he was twelve, his mother passed and he was there to witness her soul departing her body. She only stayed long enough to declare her never-ending love for her boys and bid him goodbye, before she moved on to her eternal reward.

Eight years later, when Liam died in a naval training exercise, Killian expected him to join their mother. However, his brother’s apparition began appearing to him from time to time. At first, his appearance was simply a mist, barely recognizable, but as Killian did more research into the paranormal and practiced tapping into his abilities, it became more discernible. Still, he was frustrated that he could see his brother, but was unable to speak to him.

He purchased several pieces of equipment used by paranormal investigators, hoping to enhance his encounters with Liam. They turned out to be very helpful, but Liam soon learned to communicate with his brother well enough that the tools weren’t necessary.

On a whim, Killian posted videos of himself explaining the use of equipment to make contact with ghosts on YouTube, and soon he was in demand as a paranormal investigator. People were willing to pay large sums of money to be able to make contact with their departed loved ones, or to encourage ghosts to move on. He quit his job as a dock worker and began traveling, taking his friend Will along with him, and when the technical aspects of editing and posting to YouTube proved too daunting, he hired Belle.

Even his closest friends were unaware that Killian’s deceased brother appeared and spoke with him on a regular basis; he wanted to keep that part of his life to himself.

*********

It still startled Killian whenever the apparition of his brother appeared, but it wasn’t ever an unwelcome intrusion. His visits never lasted long, but there was always enough time for a nice chat.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten I’m a grown man and therefore your younger brother,” Killian reminded Liam, for at least the fiftieth time.

“I’m not sure that’s technically true any more, since you’ve now lived past the age I was when I died.”

Killian hated it when Liam talked about his own death. “You were born before me, so you’ll always be older.”

“Hmm…” Liam responded, giving his brother the maddening little nod that meant he was right and Killian was wrong. “So, the lovely lass you’re pining for was here today, aye?”

“How did you know that?” Killian asked unnecessarily. Obviously Liam had popped in and, being a tad preoccupied taking care of Emma, he hadn’t noticed.

“I’m not doing the job of watching over my little brother very well if I don’t know what’s going on in his life.”

Killian had never come right out and asked Liam about the unfinished business that kept him from moving on, but having been his guardian for years before his death, he was sure it was to continue taking care of him. Not that he needed it, but he wasn’t complaining, as long as he had a chance to have his older brother with him in some shape or form.

“She, uh…she fainted so I brought her in to lay her on my sofa. I couldn’t very well let her lay on the floor in the hallway.”

“What caused her to faint?” Liam asked, his playful tone giving way to concern.

“Seems she was visited by the ghost of her departed ex-boyfriend. You didn’t see him hanging around, did you?”

“You know spirits seldom bump into one another, unless they were associated with each other while they were living.”

“I just thought I would ask. It spooked her badly - no pun intended.”

“Have you agreed to help her?”

“Aye, if I can. The guy made her life miserable when he was alive. She shouldn’t have to put up with him after his death.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Perhaps this will give you a chance to get closer to her. Maybe you’ll even work up the nerve to finally ask her out.”

Killian sighed. “I’m not going to do that when she’s so vulnerable, Liam. I simply want to get the tosser to move on.”

“And after that?”

“I don’t know,” Killian conceded.

“You’ve had feelings for that lass for ages, Killy. When are you going to act on them?”

“I’m afraid she’s only ever going to think of me as a friend. If I ask her out and she turns me down, I might lose her friendship, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“You’ll never know unless you try.”

Killian didn’t answer. He’d had this conversation with his brother before and Liam always pushed him to ask Emma out. He didn’t understand why his love life was so important to his brother, but whenever he asked him, Liam was evasive and refused to answer.

“Just think about it, Killian. I have to go. I love you, Brother.”

“Love you, too, Liam.”

He watched his brother’s translucent form dissolve, leaving him sad and lonely, as always. He didn’t know when Liam would complete his unfinished business, but he did know that when he finally did, Killian would be left alone once again.

Unbeknownst to him, Liam’s unfinished business was to see his brother happily married to the love of his life, but it was up to Killian to take the first step.

*********

Thanks very much for reading. Be sure to check out the other great stories in the CSSNS24 collection!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda

@pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426

@julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones

@zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

@hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie @beckettj @cssns

[shady-swan-jones]

Untie Me (7/?) - a CS Architects fic

Untie Me | captain swan fic | office romance | mature | 7/? | 17,5k | in progress

"Remind me, love, who was saying Margarita isn’t really a pizza?” “Someone not as hungry as I am,” she says in one breath, so she would shove the next piece in her mouth. Italians were up to something. Capela Sixtina and now this. “I remember you calling it ‘Cardboard with cheese’.”

Read on Ao3

@caught-in-the-filter @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @the-darkdaughter-blog @teamhook @justanother-unluckysoul @karlyfr13s   @snowbellewells @xarandomdreamx @klynn-stormz @omninerdgirl   @facesiousbutton82 @finmnsoh56  @followbatb @killianxswan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlords @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @jrob64 @myfearless-love @nowforruin

[kazoosandfannypacks]

love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things... faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

KILLIAN JONES AND EMMA SWAN: ONCE UPON A TIME (2012-2017)

image desc. and taglist under cut

#1 a gif of emma asking killian to be patient with her. text says "love is patient"

#2 a gif of killian poking a hole in a coconut and giving it to emma. text says "love is kind"

#3 a gif of emma talking to killian at the sheriff station, in the scene where emma says she's gonna see the good in him even if he's not willing to open up about his past right away. text says "it does not envy"

#4 a gif of emma on top of killian in the underworld after choosing to save his life instead of her own in the true love test. text says "it is not self seeking"

#5 a gif of emma and killian standing across from each other- the "broken still works" scene. text says "it is not easily angered"

#6 a gif of killian slipping the engagement ring onto emma's finger in their second proposal. text says "and it keeps no record of wrong"

Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza @pawshapedheart [i used the same list i use for fics, but if you’d like to be added to or removed from the gifset taglist, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

[snowbellewells]

Halloween ReRuns: Something Spicy & Something Sweet ;P

So, I had started the first of my Autumn Prompt Bingo Card stories and had hoped to be able to post it, but it isn't ready yet. Then, I had the thought that I could post a couple of stories I've written for previous Autumns/Halloweens and maybe some new people would see and enjoy them who hadn't before. The "spicy" one (which, it's me, so for most people probably not actually that spicy) was written for @kmomof4's birthday in mid-October some years back, and the sweet one is totally self-indulgent, prompted by a hilarious post I saw on here once about what Killian would make of the Girl Scouts and their cookie sales, and how he would be a total pushover for them and buy all the cookies.

Anyway, if you're interested, here are a couple of my older Halloween fics for your evening's entertainment!

Spicy: "The Sweetest Treat"

Summary: After Storybrooke’s first Harvest Day Festival winds down, Emma has a sweet and sultry surprise in store for her pirate husband.  (hard T - or maybe an M?)

Sweet: "Do-Si-Dos and Tagalongs"

Summary: Originally written for a CS Halloweek on Tumblr... featuring lots of fluff and a pirate captain who can't resist adorably mischievous Girl Scouts. ;)

Set somewhere in the vague post-s6 future, assuming everyone had stayed in Storybrooke and they all carried on from the happy beginning we saw in the Season 6 finale.  

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @xarandomdreamx @lfh1226-linda

@xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @goforlaunchcee

@belovedcreation @myfearless-love @teamhook @revanmeetra87

@stahlop @jonesfandomfanatic @eastwesthomeisbest @spartanguard @ultraluckycatnd

@searchingwardrobes @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @motherkatereloyshipper @bromfieldhall

@everything-person @undercaffinatednightmare @caught-in-the-filter @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook

@shady-swan-jones @let-it-raines @the-darkdragonfly @therooksshiningknight @resident-of-storybrooke

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

The Role of Daddy Charming--A birthday gift for @jrob64

The Role of Daddy Charming

Rating: PG

Relationship: Daddy Charming and Captain Swan

Summary: 4x2 “deleted scene”.  David Nolan had played many roles in his life, but by far the one he's found most important was that of “dad”. The fact that he hadn’t been able to be there for Emma throughout the first 28 years of her life was one of his greatest regrets, so when he noticed the infamous Captain Hook’s interest in his daughter–and even more concerning, her returning that interest–he was determined to intervene. That is, of course, until she was trapped behind an ice wall, and David saw just how deeply and sincerely Killian Jones truly loved her.

Also posted here: ao3

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay 

@ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @brooke-to-broch 

@missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich 

@jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma

@daxx04 @nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst

@kmomof4 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes 

@hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 

@therooksshiningknight @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica 

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

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

It's finally done! I'm sorry your birthday gift is 11 days late @jrob64, but I hope you've at least enjoyed the little snippets I posted on discord as I wrote this! Happy belated birthday!

And without further ado....

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

Throughout his life, David Nolan had played many roles.  He’d been a son, a brother, a shepherd, a prince, a vet tech, a sheriff’s deputy, but by far, the roles he took most seriously were his roles as husband and father.

If there’s one thing he’d known all his life, it was that he wanted to be a better father than he’d had.  He wanted to be present in his children’s lives.  He’d vowed never to abandon them.

And so it was the greatest regret of his life that he’d done just that mere minutes after his daughter was born.  

Granted, he was forced into the action; it was necessary to protect Emma and give her her best chance.  Still, the shame and heartbreak of that decision had haunted him for the past twenty-nine years.

Surprisingly, during the first curse he’d felt it still, even if he hadn’t known what it was.  More often than he cared to recall, he’d had vague dreams of the black knights, of the wardrobe, of being ripped from someone vitally important to him.  The gloom and near despair of those dreams hung over him like a thundercloud. He’d woken feeling–knowing–that he wasn’t enough, that he’d failed at the most important task of his life.

Once he’d regained his memories and once he realized Emma was back in his life, he’d vowed to make up for lost time, to be the father she’d always needed, to protect her at all costs.

And so it was, when he sat at his kitchen table silently sipping his coffee and staring sightlessly out the window on the morning after the incident at the ice wall, he felt relief…but also helplessness.  He’d almost lost her.  Again.

Snow came up behind him, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek before taking a seat next to him.

“That’s quite the bleak look on your face,” she whispered. Elsa was, after all, presumably still asleep behind the curtain they’d draped in front of the sofa to give her a bit of privacy. “Yesterday really shook you up, didn’t it?”

He blew out a long breath. “She came this close to freezing to death on my watch, Snow.”

She took his hand and squeezed it.  “But she didn’t.  From all I’ve heard, you were magnificent.  Took charge and found a way to save her.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “I was terrified, but Killian…Killian was, if anything, even worse.  Never seen a man so completely panicked.”

“He loves her,” she said simply, a radiant smile on her face. “I wouldn’t have believed it when we first met him in the Enchanted Forest, but he’s a good man, and he truly loves her.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that impression,” David agreed.  “Did you know I gave him that ‘What are your intentions with my daughter?’ speech yesterday before…well…everything?”

“Really?  What did he say?”

“First he gave me hell for being old-fashioned, and then he told me he wouldn’t risk his life for someone he considered loot.  And if there was still any doubt in my mind before the ice wall incident, his reaction removed it.  Whatever else I could say about him, I know he loves her.”

Snow sipped her coffee.  “Maybe you should tell him that.  Give him your blessing, if you will.”

David grimaced.  He may be–grudgingly–willing to admit it to his wife in the privacy of their own kitchen, but admitting it to Hook’s face…well, he wasn’t sure.  “Yeah, maybe when I see him again,” he hedged.

“Perfect,” Snow said.  “You’ll probably have the opportunity any minute, whenever Emma and Hook get up.”

“What?!”

“He stayed the night with her,” Snow said with a grin. “You didn’t know?”

As if to confirm Snow’s statements, Emma and Killian emerged together from the loft. David felt his innate protective dad instincts flared to life.  If Hook had taken advantage of Emma in her vulnerable post-nearly-freezing-to-death state…

“Remember what we just talked about.  He loves her,” Snow murmured only loud enough for him to hear.

David let out a long breath.  She was right.  Reacting badly now would likely only make things worse. “Fine,” he murmured back.

“Morning!” Snow called sunnily to the couple entering the kitchen, as well as Elsa who had just emerged from behind her curtain.  “Anyone want breakfast?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to get to the station,” Emma said, “I’m sure the phones were blowing up last night with calls about the ice wall.”

“I also must decline,” Killian said, scratching behind his ear.  “I should…get back to Granny’s.”

“See you later for lunch?” Emma asked, looking up at Hook with an open–and what David thought was rather nauseatingly besotted–look.  At his answer in the affirmative, she headed out.

Snow nudged David, and he rolled his eyes.  No time like the present, he supposed.  “Let me give you a lift back to town, Hook,” he said, “I’m headed that direction anyway.”

Hook gave him a wary look, and for a moment, David hoped he was about to decline the offer.  

No such luck.

“I’d appreciate it, mate.”

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

The first minute of their drive was passed in silence.  Killian side-eyed David uncomfortably, wondering when the questions–or probably more precisely, the accusations–would start.

His first inclination was to rile the man up further with sly grins and insinuations about what went on in the Charming’s loft the night before–after all his dashing rapscallion persona was a clock he’d worn as a shield for more years than he could count–but he quickly dismissed it.

This was Swan’s father.  If he truly wished to have a relationship with her–and he did; he wished for a relationship lasting roughly in the neighborhood of forever–it wouldn’t do to antagonize her father.  There was also the fact that he genuinely liked the man, and so…

“You know nothing…untoward…happened last night,” Killian said.

David glanced at him before turning back to the road with a grimace.  “Didn’t ask.  Don’t want to know.”

“Nevertheless,” Killian continued, “Your daughter and I certainly have more respect for you and Snow than to…engage in certain activities…underneath your very nose, not to mention the fact that her lad slept not ten feet from us.”

“Like I said, I didn’t ask,” David repeated, although Killian noted the way the other man’s face relaxed slightly at the reassurance.

“She was still cold,” Killian continued, somehow feeling the need to continue his justification.  “She asked for me to hold her, and I couldn’t refuse.  After coming so bloody close to losing her…”

David pulled into a parking spot in front of Granny’s but didn’t yet kill the engine.  The look he gave Killian this time was sympathetic, understanding. “Almost losing the woman you love does things to a man.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed.  “It was the same feeling of dread, of helplessness, as when the Crocodile crushed Milah’s heart in front of me.  If it had happened again….”

David placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “It didn’t,” he said firmly.  “I’ve been trying to remind myself of that all day.  It didn’t.  You didn’t lose your love and I didn’t lose my daughter.”

There was a long silence, in which Killian wondered if he ought to simply exit the vehicle.  He’d just reached for the door handle to do so when David spoke again, this time looking determinedly out the front window, rather than at him.

“There is….something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Aye?”

“That conversation we started to have yesterday, right before everything went to hell…” he continued, “look, I think I was wrong to ever question your intentions.”

“There’s no need to–” Killian began.

“I think there is,” David replied, finally turning toward to him. “It’s been obvious for a while that you love Emma, and it’s not a love that’s going away anytime soon.”

“It’s not a love that’s going away ever,” Killian said firmly.

“Yeah, I’m inclined to believe that” David said. “Anyway, if there ever had been any question about your feelings and intentions, yesterday got rid of them.  I saw how willing you were to do anything to save her.  I supposed what I’m trying to say is…I apologize for ever doubting you.”

Killian’s eyes widened.  Of all the things he’d expected the prince to say to him “I apologize” was rather far down on the list. “Apology accepted, although it is wholly unnecessary.  As someone who does truly love her, I’m pleased she has a father who cares enough to be a touch over-protective.”

David gave a quick, decisive nod.  “I won’t be old fashioned enough to give you my blessing,” he said, “but…I won’t oppose your relationship.”

“That means a great deal to me,” Killian said, “and I know it would mean a lot to Swan as well.”

“Yeah, well,” David said, “just so we’re clear, if you ever hurt her, I’ll run you through with my sword.”

Killian nodded.  “Mate, if I ever hurt her, I’d let you do it with my own.”

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

Later that night, Emma was vegging on the couch when her dad finally made it home.  After tossing his jacket onto the coat rack, he joined her, gave her a quick hug and kissed the top of her head.  She was slowly but surely getting used to this casual affection from her parents, and it always gave her such a warm, fuzzy, loved feeling.

“Crazy day, huh?” he asked wryly.

Emma chuckled.  “I guess that depends on what you’re comparing it to.  For Storybrooke it was ho hum.”

It had certainly been a busy day.  As she’d expected, they’d had more calls than she could count about the ice wall and the snow monster–or whatever it had been–that had crashed through the town yesterday.  While she and her dad had both been working, they’d been so busy with calls and patrols, they’d barely had a chance to exchange a word all day.

“I guess you’re right about that,” David laughed.  “Any day that doesn’t involve a new villain, monster or crisis is a win around here.”

They lapsed into silence for several moments before Emma spoke again,  “Killian told me about your conversation this morning.”

David gave her a wary look.  “Before you say anything, I do know you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions.”

She grinned.  “That’s what Killian said at lunch when I started ranting about you treating me like a teenager.  Nothing happened last night, by the way.”

“I know.  Killian told me.”

“Dad,” she said, and her heart turned over at the joy on his face at her use of the word.  “I just….I just want to thank you for, you know, caring and doing whatever you had to to save me.”

“No thanks necessary,” he said.  “You’re my daughter.  I’m always, always going to do everything in my power to help you, no matter the situation.”

She felt the tears come to her eyes.  “I think I’m finally starting to realize that.  Sorry it’s taken so long.  It’s just…I’m not used to having a dad, someone in my corner no matter what.”

Pain came into his eyes at that, and Emma realized how her words had come across. “I’m not blaming you,” she said quickly.  “I know you did what you had to to give me my best chance.”

“Still,” David said, “I wish more than anything that I’d been able to be the father you needed and deserved from the beginning.”

“I wish that too,” she murmured, almost under her breath, “but the past is the past.  You’re here now, and that means everything.”

“And I always will be,” David vowed with a decisive nod.

They lapsed into another silence, broken only by a few soft whimpers from baby Neal as Mary Margaret worked to put him down for the night–or at least as much of the night as he was willing to sleep at any one stretch.

“You know, I wasn’t the only one working frantically to save you last night,” David said slowly.

Emma felt her heart stutter and then soar as she thought of the man to whom her father was referring.  “I know.  Killian told me he’d been worried about me too.”

David blew out a long breath.  “Worried is an understatement.  He was absolutely frantic.  Emma, that man loves you.”

Emma felt the butterflies, that swooping half-excited, half-terrified feeling one gets when she falls head over heels.  She would have to be blind not to see that Killian had fallen in love with her, and she had the sneaking suspicion that somewhere along the way she’d fallen in love with him as well.  Was she ready to admit it?  She wasn’t sure.  That level of vulnerability was scary as hell.

“Yeah, maybe so,” she hedged, trying to make her voice as even as possible, “and I…I…appreciate it.”

David gave her a long look.  “Emma, I know it’s hard for you to trust.  I know it’s hard for you to let yourself believe, and I will have your back one hundred percent whatever you do, but for what it’s worth, I’d give him a chance if I were you.”

“So does that mean you think he’s good enough for me?” Emma teased, uncomfortably aware of the momentous nature of the topic at hand and feeling the need to lighten the mood..

David chuckled.  “You’re my daughter.  No one’s good enough for you, but I suppose if you have to be with someone, he’ll do.”

[cssns]

Get to Know Your Mods

Our final mod is @ultraluckycatnd​! This is also her first year as a mod so give her a warm welcome!

How long have you been a part of the CS fandom?

I've been a part of the fandom for 10 years now. I stumbled upon a Tumblr post via Pinterest after the 3A finale, and down the rabbit hole I went.

What is your favorite part about fandom?

I love the camaraderie between everyone, no matter their likes/dislikes, where they're from, what language they speak, etc. We all have a common interest, and it's amazing to me how diverse we really are.

What drew you to this event?

I've been a beta for this event for many years now and have been amazed at the content that our wonderfully talented shipmates have come up with over the years. When I was asked to join as a mod this year, I enthusiastically said yes!

Will you be participating either as a writer or artist? If so, what will you be doing?

I'm nowhere near that talented, but I will serve as beta for a few of our wonderful writers.

What do you do in your "real life?"

I'm finishing up my 18th year teaching music, all within the same school district. Currently, I am a General Music teacher at an elementary school (K-5) and 5th grade band director, as well as the flute clinician for the high school band.

What are you most looking forward to in this event?

I'm looking forward to all of the stories and art that are going to be produced. I've seen the list of ideas for the stories, and as an avid reader, I can't wait to read them all! And the art I know is going to be out of this world, helping those stories come to life.

[laianely]

Espresso

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche

[kmomof4]

Rainy Sunday CS Spooky Season/Autumnal Bingo

And that's BINGO!!! Hope you enjoy this short and sweet CS meeting! Many thanks to @hollyethecurious for the bingo idea and to @jrob64 for her beta services.

Summary: Killian Jones waits inside a coffee shop on a rainy Sunday afternoon for his blind date, Emma Swan, to arrive.

Rating: G

On ao3

Words:

Tags: Spooky Season Bingo, Coffee Shop Fic

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615

@donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells  @djlbg

@lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica

@laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter

@ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite

@jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779

@kymbersmith-90 @suwya @veryverynotgoodwrites @myfearless-love 

~*~*~

Prompt: Coffee shop on a rainy day

Killian Jones sat at a small table inside the warm and cozy coffee shop, watching the frigid, late autumn rain come down in sheets outside. He’d been waiting a few minutes already - long enough for his order to be called and for the warmth of the fire along the back wall of the cafe to reach and warm him deliciously.

He sipped his coffee and looked back out the window to see a woman rushing down the street. Her long blonde hair was covered by a knitted navy beanie with a puff at the top, and she wore a black windbreaker over a deep red turtleneck sweater. Her features weren’t terribly clear through the rain, but he could see enough that he couldn’t help but hope she might be the blind date he was waiting for, one Miss Emma Swan.

When she rushed through the cafe door, his breath caught. He stared, completely gobsmacked, at the gorgeous woman as she shook her head and her arms, flinging off at least some of the stray water droplets that made her look rather like his dog Roger after a bath, than someone meeting a date.

She took off her beanie before making her way to the counter and ordering. Once finished, she turned around and her eyes scanned the cafe until they landed on him. Killian swallowed hard as a bright, but still somewhat tentative smile broke across her lips as she started making her way toward him. When she was still about six feet away, he stood and scratched behind his ear in nervousness.

“Emma Swan?” he asked, holding out his hand to her. “I’m Killian Jones.”

She took it as her smile widened even more and shook it and sat down across from him. Killian took his seat again as well.

“It is very nice to meet you, Killian Jones.”

The End

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I'd love to hear what you think! Don't yell at me too hard, please! I wanted to get a bingo and I figured y'all had good enough imaginations that you could figure out what came next!

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (12/13)

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

A/N: Deep breath, y'all...

Much love to my @kmomof4 and @ultraluckycatnd for being amazing cheerleaders and betas! Love you, ladies!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Emma’s eyes bounced from Killian to the man who had just revealed himself as his father, her breath refusing to release so she could take in a fresh one.

“It was you?” Killian seethed, yanking against the metal band still securing his wrist to the wooden block. “You’re the reason I… All this time? It was you?!”

Killian’s father, Brennan, flinched against his son’s ire then stepped forward, causing Killian to be the one to flinch back this time.

“Aye,” Brennan replied. “But this madness has to stop. I won’t continue to stand by and let him--”

He released Killian from the block, allowing him to surge to his feet and grab the man by the front of his shirt. “Now? Now you take a stand? Now you--”

Killian’s words were cut off by the sound of something coming from both of the Lost Ones’ ear pieces. No doubt Pan was sending them instructions, but Emma could not make it out. Something in the way that Brennan’s head jerked towards the still masked Lost One, all color draining from his face, made Emma’s stomach drop.

“No!” Brennan cried out, forcing Killian behind him as the masked Lost One plucked the hatchet from the couch and advanced on the two men with the weapon raised, ready to strike.

Emma screamed, momentarily paralyzed as both Brennan and Killian fought off the Lost One. In the struggle, Killian lost his footing, his head slamming hard against the wooden block before he crumpled limply to the floor.

“Killian!” Emma, finally able to make her body move, rushed to his side. There was a nasty gash at his hairline, pouring blood from the wound. She yanked off the cardigan she’d pulled on over her sleep set before she’d woken him earlier and balled it up to press against his head.

“K-Killian,” she sobbed, attempting to rouse him though he remained listless as she pulled his head and shoulders up onto her lap. “Wake up, Killian. Please! Come back to me! Come back to me, Killian. Please!”

The sound of a door being forcibly opened jerked her attention back to the still warring Lost Ones. In horror, she watched as the masked Lost One shoved Brennan into the entryway closet, then trapped him inside by shoving one of the nearby dining chairs up against the underside of the handle.

Shoulders raising and lowering from his panted breaths, the Lost One turned and retrieved the hatchet he must have lost hold of during the struggle. Brennan pounded against the inside of the closet door, his screams muffled by the solid wood. The masked Lost One advanced towards Killian, forcing Emma to cover Killian with her body in a vain attempt to protect him.

“No!” she screamed, her arm flailing widely towards the approaching Lost One in some ridiculous effort to fight him off. “Get away from us! Get away from him! I won’t let you hurt him!”

The Lost One stopped just short of her, his head craned down as though he were staring at her. “Pan says if I do this then he’ll free us. You and me.”

A cold chill ran down her spine and disbelief nearly choked the breath out of her.

“He said he’d get our son for us, too,” the Lost One continued, his voice combatting Emma's denial with the stark reality before her. “We can be a family, Emma.”

“N-Neal?” she whispered on an anguished breath. She could have happily lived the rest of her days without ever hearing his voice again. She blanched when he crouched down in front of her, his words finally hitting her full force and causing her panic to spike. “Our son?” she repeated back to him. “How did you…? What are you…?”

“It’s why you’re here,” he told her, his voice sounding crazed from beneath the mask he still wore. “I wasn’t supposed to have a family. I wasn’t supposed to make attachments. It’s why he tested me with you, why he had me set you up for the watches. To make sure I’d side with him. Stay loyal to him.”

“To Pan?” she gasped. “You were working with Pan when we met?”

“Of course.” Neal removed his mask and Emma was struck by how much he’d aged. The laugh lines she remembered, a feature she’d found quite attractive in her youth as they played into the cool, older boy fantasy she’d fallen head first into, were now deeply etched in his face. His eyes held a wild, equally crazed quality that matched his tone, and Emma couldn’t help but attempt to scoot back away from him. The added weight of Killian made such a retreat impossible though.

“Pan took care of me when no one else would,” Neal continued, his voice almost affectionate and adoring as he spoke of his relationship with their demon captor. “He was my family. I wasn’t allowed to have a family unless he provided it. So, when Henry found me...”

“Henry?” Emma said on a startled and anguished exhale.

“Our son,” he told her, reaching forward to brush the back of his hand down her face. She fought against the instinct to pull away, the madness of his demeanor making her cautious, especially since he still had the hatchet loosely gripped in his hand. “His name is Henry. Henry Mills, and he--”

“Don’t,” Emma begged, shaking her head and clamping her eyes shut, wishing she could do the same with her ears. “Please. I don’t want to hear this--”

“He’s a smart kid,” Neal pressed on, ignoring her plea. “Managed to hack into the adoption agency’s database. Found his birth certificate with our names… Well, the names we both went by at the time.” Emma’s eyes snapped open and met his, a knowing look spilling out from his brown, deranged depths. “Swan, huh? Did you change it after your release?” Giving her a commiserating shrug, he confessed, “Cassidy isn’t my real name either. It’s an alias Pan gave me, so when Henry searched it, Pan got a notification. He must not have been able to find you, though. That’s probably why he ended up on my doorstep and not y--”

“Where is he?” Emma demanded frantically, fear gnawing at the lining of her stomach. “What did you do? What did Pan do?”

“Nothing,” Neal said, confusion knitting his brows together. “He’s fine. Back home with the woman who adopted him. But…” He grabbed onto her hand, squeezing it almost painfully tight, an exuberance filling him as he told her, “Pan says he can be ours again. He says once I’ve killed Killian and we’re both free of this place, then we can raise Henry and be a family.”

Emma yanked her hand free, unable to take any more of his insanity. “Do you even hear yourself? You want Pan to kidnap a ten year old boy, take him from the only home and family he knows, so he can live with strangers?”

Neal’s countenance darkened, a cold, sinister expression taking up residence on his features as he angrily declared, “We aren’t strangers, we’re his parents! He came looking for us!”

“You and I are strangers to him, Neal!” Emma shouted back. “And we are strangers to each other! You haven’t seen me in eleven years, you don’t even know me. Which is obvious if you think I would ever go along with a scheme like that!”

“But…” His tenuous grip on his own reality seemed to be slipping and Emma pulled Killian tighter into her embrace. “Pan says I can be free.” His eyes shifted from her down to Killian. His expression became murderous, but there was also an unnerving look of giddiness in his eyes. “All I have to do is kill him.”

Emma chanced a glance around Neal, the chair blockading the closet door shifting further and further back with each strike Brennan was applying to its surface. She stood, causing Neal to mirror her actions, and placed herself firmly between him and a still unconscious Killian.

“Fine,” she spat. “Have your freedom, Neal.” Bracing her stance, she raised her hands and declared, “But you’ll have to kill us both to earn it, because I am not leaving this place without Killian.”

Rage flared from deep within his eyes and a guttural roar made every hair on her body stand on end. Adjusting the hatchet in his hand, Neal reared back and Emma lowered her shoulder, ready to throw herself at him in the hopes of knocking him off balance or maybe even off of his feet. Before either of them could go through with their actions, the closet door burst open and Brennan charged at Neal.

“ENOUGH!”

Pan’s shout and the piercing feedback that followed had them all abandoning their attacks in favor of covering their ears.

“None of you will leave this place until our game is at an end,” Pan stated from overhead.

“Let’s end it then!” Brennan bellowed at the ceiling. “What more do you want? We’ve played your game and I, for one, am done! I refuse to play along any further unless it is to directly win my freedom.”

“Same here!” Emma yelled up at the ceiling while still keeping an eye on Neal, who was clearly conflicted with minding Pan’s declaration that enough was enough. “You’ve had your fun,” Emma continued, emboldened by Brennan’s words. “It’s time for this sadistic game to end!”

The silence felt as though it would never end and Emma knew they were all holding their breath in anticipation of Pan’s response to their demand.

She did not think any of them were truly prepared for him to respond as he did, though.

“Very well, then,” Pan said in a hushed tone. “Pan says to follow the black lines. The final round will commence momentarily.”

“What about Killian?” Emma asked, trying to not let the fear of what Pan might have in store for them get the better of her just yet. “He’s still out cold.”

“Here,” his father replied, shoving past Neal and moving to stand over his son. “I’ll take care of him,” he assured her after hoisting him up and over his shoulder. Just as he’d done once before.

Turning towards Neal, Brennan eyed the hatchet then stared hard into his fellow Lost Ones gaze. “We gonna have a problem?”

Neal’s attention bounced from Brennan, to Killian, to Emma, then back to Killian. “Nah,” he said. “I trust Pan. I’m sure he’ll give me another shot at him. Besides,” he said with a smug sneer aimed at Brennan. “It’ll be more fun this way. I want the bastard to suffer good for thinking he could touch what’s mine.”

“I am not--” Emma began indignantly, but Brennan cut off her retort with a sharp look and curt shake of his head.

“Let’s get moving then,” Brennan said, gesturing Neal towards the door then holding Emma back and indicating she should fall in behind him and Killian as they made their way out of the apartment.

Emma didn’t really relish the idea of riding the elevator down with Neal, but Brennan made sure to keep himself between them. She tried to focus on Killian, running her fingers through his hair as his head dangled at the small of Brennan’s back. Fighting back tears, Emma tried to keep her breathing even and her pulse rate calm. Both Neal and Brennan looked as though they were mentally preparing themselves for battle and Emma wished she had the comfort of Killian’s encouragement and insistence that, no matter what Pan might have in store for them, they would be able to overcome it. Together.

Once they exited the elevator, however, it quickly became apparent that together was not in the cards for any of them.

Coming to a dead end along the black line, Emma glanced up at Brennan with a question in her brow. A question that was immediately answered by Pan.

A pressurized release hissed through the hallway and four doors opened: two to the left and two to the right, each with a number displayed above the frame.

“Pan says,” the speakers overhead uttered, “your instructions for the final round await you in your respective rooms.”

Emma entered her assigned room and jumped when the door slammed shut behind her. The room was empty, save for a metal bench jutting out from the wall and another door, opposite of the one she’d just entered through. Laying atop the bench was an envelope with her name neatly printed across the front.

With trembling fingers, Emma opened the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper that awaited inside.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered under her breath, her hand flying up to her mouth as she read the final, terrible, edict Pan had for her.

~/~

Killian groaned as his body rolled then jerked violently when it almost toppled over the edge of whatever he was lying on. He forced himself to move too quickly a second time, causing his head to throb painfully as he bolted upright and frantically looked about the room as the final moments before he’d lost consciousness played inside his mind.

“Emma!” he called out in a near hysterical tone. “Emma, love! Where are you?”

“She’s fine,” Pan's voice answered from the speaker crackling in the corner. “We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up.”

“Where is she?” Killian demanded, leaving the metal bench he’d been passed out on and woozily making his way towards the corner where the camera was mounted. “What have you done to her? If you’ve hurt her I’ll--”

“Save your threats and calm yourself,” Pan hissed. “You’re going to need all your faculties to face what’s ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Killian replied with a heavy dose of dread. “What are you--”

“The Final Round is about to begin,” Pan told him, causing Killian to balk.

“The Final Round? As in…”

“Everything you need to know is in the envelope.”

The speaker clicked off without any further explanation. Killian spun around, looking for an envelope, then finally found it tucked away under the bench. It probably fell to the floor when he’d hastily gotten up.

Tearing it open, Killian tossed the outer contents aside and unfolded the note within. The words, neatly handwritten upon the page made his stomach drop and blood go cold.

Pan says, each of you has been given a task. Those who complete theirs and survive the day shall earn their freedom.

Killian Jones: Pan says, in order to earn your freedom, you must kill Brennan Jones using the dagger provided.

The sound of sliding metal wrenched Killian’s attention from the paper and he skittered back as something fell from the ceiling and landed next to his feet. A dagger, he realized with a sense of nausea. A dagger sheathed in a holster designed to tuck into the band of his pants.

Hesitantly, Killian bent over and picked up the weapon, turning it over in his hands as the desire to throw it far from himself began to overtake him. Before he could follow through with the action, one of the doors creaked open, revealing a dark corridor, and the speaker came to life once more.

“Pan says… LET THE FINAL ROUND BEGIN!”

A hissing sound whooshed from the walls and an acrid, green fog began to pour in. Clearly, it was meant to prompt the occupant from the cell, and not knowing what might await him beyond, Killian clamped the holstered dagger onto the band of his sweatpants and hurried away from the menacing mist.

It became apparent rather quickly that he was in some sort of labyrinth. Several times he’d had to backtrack after coming to a dead end. Warring with himself as to whether he ought to call out for Emma, Killian had chosen to keep silent, not wishing to put her in harm’s way should she reply back, revealing her position to whomever might have been instructed to…

This was madness. Utter and complete madness. Did Pan really expect them to--

“Killian?”

The sound of his name from his father’s lips pulled a growl from Killian’s chest as he spun around to face his treacherous sire. Grabbing him by the shoulders he slammed the man against the wall.

“I’m not going to hurt you, son!” Brennan assured him, his hands raised in supplication. “You’re not… you’re not the one I was ordered to…”

Killian released him and backed away, not because he trusted anything the man had to say, but because he wanted to keep him fully in his sights.

“Am I?” Brennan asked, his hands still raised and back still pressed against the wall. “Am I your target, son?”

“Don’t call me that!” Killian shouted. “Don’t you dare call me son! Not after what… You are no father and YES!” he bellowed, getting into Brennan’s face once more, sneering. “Yes. Pan says I’m to kill you.”

The two of them stood there for an innumerable amount of time, chests heaving, eyes flickering between the others, neither of them willing to be the first to blink.

But blink Killian did. He had to. He was no killer and he knew it.

“But I can’t do it,” Killian whispered, stepping back and dropping his head as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I won’t.”

“You have to.”

Killian balked, his head shooting up as he stumbled backward, hitting the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. “What?”

“It was always going to end this way,” Brennan said, taking a tentative step towards him. “I earned myself a death sentence the moment I disobeyed Pan, he just… wanted to watch me suffer first.” His jaw clenched and his Adam’s apple bobbed tightly. “You have no idea how much I wish I could have spared you all of this. I thought… I thought I had, honestly. But it was all for nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” Killian replied, his anger resurfacing, unwilling to give the man any quarter for the part he played in Killian’s incarceration and torture. “Spared me? I’m here because of you!”

“I know, and I--”

“You’re what? Sorry?” Killian spat, advancing on him with a single step and relishing the way the man cowered in the face of Killian’s wrath. “Sorry for what? For being a poor excuse of a father? For running out on your sons when they needed you most? For abandoning us!?”

“I didn’t abandon you!” Brennan shouted, bringing himself back to full height and refusing to back down.

“Then what would you call it?!”

“I was protecting you!” Brennan insisted, gesturing wildly at the space around them then back at himself. “From him! From my mistakes!”

Killian was taken aback by the revelation, the shock of it causing him to lean against the wall for support. “You… Your involvement with Pan goes back that far?”

“Aye,” Brennan lamented, his shoulders sagging and his expression twisting with shame and regret. “After your mother… I lost myself. I know I don’t need to tell you that,” he grimaced, probably plagued by the same memories Killian had of those dark days.

“I drank and gambled and tried to console myself in women,” he confessed bitterly. “The kind of women one typically has to pay for their attention. I racked up a mountain of debt in a series of establishments and one night… my bill came due.” Mournfully, he held Killian’s gaze and shared, “The night before you awoke and had your entire world turned upside down… again.”

A long buried memory clawed its way to the surface of Killian’s cognition. A knock at the door. His father telling him and Liam to stay upstairs. Angry voices making their way up the stairwell. Liam telling him not to worry. “It’s fine, little brother. Whatever it is, Father will handle it. Go back to bed.”

“He… he came to the house?” Killian murmured.

“No, not him,” Brennan replied, shaking his head and releasing a deep sigh. “He never does anything on his own. He sent his Lost Ones, and demanded I pay the debt in full. When I told him I didn’t have the money he gave me two options.” Swallowing hard, Brennan stepped forward and placed a hesitant hand on Killian’s shoulder. He could see the reluctance swirling in his father’s gaze - the wish that he did not have to reveal this dark secret to his son. “I could leave that night and repay my debt in his service or…”

“Or?”

The muscle at his jaw flickered and he was barely able to choke out the words. “Or… I could let him have you and Liam as payment.”

Killian sucked in a disgusted, dread-infused breath, his vision threatening to turn black as he held it too long.

“I flat refused to let him take you and your brother,” Brennan assured him with vehemence. “I knew enough of the depraved world Pan ran. I was never going to subject you to that, so I agreed to leave and pay the debt myself.”

Killian blew out the held breath and asked his father the question that had plagued him his whole life. “Why did you never contact us? You could have left a note. You could have reached out. Why did you never--”

“Because I was forbidden to,” Brennen told him in a tone of long held anguish. With a deep, fortifying breath, he recited from memory, “Pan says this shall be your final act as a father.” Tightening the grip he had on Killian’s shoulder he admitted, “but it wasn’t… and for that infraction we have both paid dearly.”

“I don’t understand,” Killian said, shaking his head in confusion with furrowed brows. “What does that mean? What did you do that caused Pan to--”

“For years I served Pan out there,” he said, jutting his chin towards the wall. “In the world. Doing odd jobs and furthering his dirty work.” Releasing Killian’s shoulder, he dropped his gaze, the fingers of his right hand fidgeting against his thumb. “One day, I came across an article about a car accident that killed an Admiral’s wife and left the Navy Captain, who had been her lover and the driver of the car, to answer for her death.”

His eyes flicked back up, a maelstrom of emotions storming within their depths. “I kept tabs on the trial. On you. And on the Admiral. It was clear that he wasn’t going to be satisfied with whatever outcome the court martial ruled, so after the trial was over and you were dishonorably discharged I… paid the man a visit.”

“You what?” Killian expelled on a shocked breath. “What did you do?”

Brennan’s countenance hardened, a menacing aura Killian had never seen from his father before, and he wondered whether the man he’d known before Pan had conscripted him into service would have ever been capable of such a darkness.

“I told him to accept the verdict the court had handed down and to leave you be. I told him to let go of his anger, his pride, and his thirst for vengeance and to let you move on with your life.” Remembering himself, Brennan softened his stance and his tone, but it didn’t change the chilling effects his next words left behind. “I told him to move on with his own life… or I would see to it he no longer had one.”

Killian stood paralyzed from shock. Shock and disbelief and the release of something that had been holding him captive for far longer than Pan had.

All this time. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Certain that Gold would find a way to mete out further retribution against him, not because of Milah’s death, but because Killian had dared to claim her heart. All this time. Waiting. Dreading. For nothing. Because the last man on earth he’d ever expect to come to his aid had--

“Pan found out and had me brought here,” Brennan continued, cutting off the spiral of Killian’s thoughts, “I stewed in a cell of my own for months and months until he finally told me what he had in store for me. Until he brought me into a control room and showed me the video feed of you waking up next to some woman. Neither of you having any idea how you got here.”

“Why did it take him so long to act?” Killian wondered aloud, wishing to forgo thinking of what his father had witnessed that day. What he may very well have witnessed in the days and weeks since. “You said you visited Gold after my discharge. That was nearly a year ago now.”

“He needed that time to observe you,” Brennan explained with contempt coloring his tone. “To learn all he could before taking you, so that he could squeeze every bit of suffering he could out of us both.”

“What about Emma?” Killian inquired. “Why her?”

Brennan sighed and shrugged his shoulders, clearly wishing he had an answer. “I have no idea why she’s here other than she’s Cassidy’s punishment.”

“Cassidy?” Killian repeated. Realization as to the identity of the other Lost One dawned and hit him full force. “Neal Cassidy? The man who--”

“Set her up for his crimes and left her in jail to rot, not knowing he’d also left her pregnant in the process?” Brennan supplied, stunning Killian. “Yes. That Neal Cassidy. Although,” he hedged. “I only know that much of their history because… Emma shared it with you.” Brennan looked away, unable to meet Killian’s eyes as he confessed, “If we weren’t forced to witness your interactions and punishments firsthand, then Pan would have them played for us via video in our cells. Neal and I, we’ve… seen and heard it all.”

Hot pricks of humiliation rippled along the back of Killian’s neck and flushed across his cheeks, but he pushed past the mortification and clarified, “So you don’t know what Neal and Pan’s history is or what he did to cause Emma to get wrapped up in it? You never asked?”

“Oh, I asked,” Brennan told him, meeting his eyes once more with a very Jones-esque smirk pulling at his lip. “He just never answered.”

“Pan was the one Neal fenced the watches for.” Emma’s voice caused both men’s heads to snap in the direction of the tunnel she was emerging from. Relief flooded Killian as she approached with raised hands and measured steps. “I’m not here for either of you,” she told them. “Neither of you are my target.”

“You’re not mine either, love,” Killian assured her, rushing towards her and gathering her in his arms before crushing her to his chest. “Are you alright?”

Her hair caught in his beard as she nodded her head, and she had to pluck the strands from his face when he pulled back.

“The watches?” he asked, attempting to comprehend her words. “The ones Neal set you up for?”

“Yeah,” she said, craning her head to gaze up at him. He hated the sadness and pain clouding those jade depths. “Because Pan told him to. To test his loyalties. Turns out he’d already been working for Pan when we met and kept working for him long after sending me to jail.”

“How did he end up here, then?” Brennan asked, pulling both of their attention back to him. “What did he do to…”

“He had a son,” Emma said on a choked breath, clinging a bit tighter to him. “Pan said he wasn’t allowed to have a family other than the one the organization provided him, so when Pan found out about…”

“How?” Killian asked incredulously. “How did Pan find out about your son if he and Neal left you in prison before you even knew?”

“Turns out you were right,” she said with tears pooling in her eyes. “He tried to find us.”

Terror froze Killian’s insides as he dared to ask, “Is he?”

“He’s fine,” Emma assured him. Though, he got the sense she was trying to assure herself as well. “At least, I hope he is. Neal said he was with his mom. The kid managed to hack into the adoption records and find our names. Neal said Pan told him that if he killed you, then Pan would let us both leave so we could raise him together, which is… insane.”

“It’s true,” Brennan confirmed. “Pan issued the order back in your flat after I revealed myself. It’s what set him off before you got knocked out.” Comprehension dawned across Brennan’s face which was followed by a look of alarm. “Which means you are likely Neal’s target, son,” Brennan warned. “And he will not hesitate to complete the task Pan has set for him.”

“Aye,” Killian sighed in agreement. No sooner had he taken in a fresh breath than a terrible truth occurred to him that made it still in his lungs; a realization he ought to have had earlier. Frantically, he shoved Emma behind him and plucked the dagger from his waist, holding it out towards his father.

Emma gasped, stumbling a bit from the force of Killian’s action, causing her to latch on the back of his shirt. “Killian! What are you--”

“If I am Neal’s target,” he began in a low tone, his eyes never wavering from his father, “and Neal is Emma’s target, and you are my target, then…”

“Aye,” Brennan replied, pulling out the paper he’d been left at the onset of their current game and reading, “Pan says, in order to earn your freedom, you must kill Emma Swan with your bare hands.”

“Over my dead body,” Killian growled through clenched teeth.

“Actually,” Brennan said, taking a sudden step forward, “I’d rather it be over mine.”

Brennan threw himself at Killian. The dagger, still clenched in Killian’s hand, plunged into him, imbedding itself up to the hilt, and he clung onto Killian’s shoulder to keep himself from collapsing.

“Father, no!” Killian shouted, releasing the dagger and holding on to Brennan as he slumped towards the floor, but not before Brennan yanked the dagger from his gut, removing the stopgap it had created and causing a pool of blood to quickly form beneath him.

“No, no, no!” Killian cried, desperately and futilely trying to apply pressure to the wound.

“It was always… going to… end this way,” Brennan panted with shallow breaths. “Couldn’t… protect you… with my life. Let my death… free you. Let it… mean something.”

“Father, please,” Killian pleaded, a choked sob escaping him.

Brennan’s eyes shifted to where Emma stood in shock over them, her hands covering her mouth as tears pooled in her eyes, and he said.“Take care of… each other.” His gaze returned to Killian’s. “And tell Liam…”

“No,” Killian said, shaking his head. “No. You have to tell him yourself. Whatever it is. You owe him that.”

“Tell him…” Specks of blood erupted from his mouth as he coughed, but he pushed past the gurgles of his impending death and said, “I’m sorry. For not being a better man. But it isn’t too late for you. Either of you boys. Be better… men than… I.”

“Father, no,” Killian sobbed, cradling Brennan’s limp form in his arms, his hand clutching the fabric covering the man’s still and silent chest.

Beside him, he felt Emma crouched down, her hand lightly resting on Killian’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Killian,” she soothed into his ear, her voice watery and choked from her own tears. Wrapping her arm around him, she reached forward and closed Brennan’s eyes then welcomed Killian into her embrace so he could pour out the torments of his soul into her shoulder.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there until the well of his emotions finally ran dry. Once he was able to pick himself up off the ground, he took Emma’s hand in his and gave it a grateful squeeze.

“What now?” Emma said, her eyes displaying all the concern and heartache she felt for him while trying to remain strong. His tough lass.

“Now,” Killian said with a hard note of resolve. “We finish this.”

Final Chapter

[the-darkdragonfly]

NEW CHAPTER! Tempest - A Captain Duckling Tale

Chapter 9

HEY!!! Tumblr hated me yesterday, but I'm back online now! I actually am not really sure why this chapter fought me so hard... but she was a tough nut! A million cookies to Maddie for cleaning up my mess 🥰

♥️♥️♥️♥️

A clawed hand, fingers gnarled like the branches on the oak tree her mother had taught her to climb as a child, reached through the bars towards her, Neal’s forearm pressing her solidly into the space between himself and the cage which held the creature. 

His father. 

She’d shaken her head- you’re an orphan, you told me that you were an orphan- when he’d revealed to her who and what the creature was. 

“Emma…”

Her name was the creaking whine of an old door, hinges displeased, moving in the wind- Emma- the snap hiss of cold against metal.

“Don’t be afraid,” Neal soothed, pressing her closer to the bars, her slippered feet scrambling on the damp stones, unable to find purchase. “I told him about you, he’s been waiting to meet you for a long time.” 

She’d trembled, skin cold from fright, fingers tingling with the chill of the damp and the fear which ratcheted through her blood. 

An orphan, that’s what he had said. 

But it had been a lie. 

Not a lie, a secret- he’d whispered in her ear, as he pressed her steadily forward, the creature’s fingernails grazing her skin before she managed to twist away, bolting up the stairs barefoot, slippers discarded on against the stone twist of the hallway, her back slamming against the door which guarded the dungeon she hadn’t know existed until Neal, Baelfire, led her down into the depths of the earth. 

That’s the name the creature had called him, pacing across the back of his cell, floor worn smooth from the action. 

How long had the man been down here, she wondered, Neal’s hand warm at her elbow, a deceitful type of comfort she’d quickly learned, skin prickled with the chill of suppressed magic. Of evil. 

I know you can help us, Emma. 

♥️♥️♥️♥️

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Tagging the usual suspects

@elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @sailtoafarawayland @teamhook @wefoundloveunderthelight @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @veryverynotgood @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @jrob64 @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @gingerpolyglot @xarandomdreamx @justanother-unluckysoul @zaharadessert @karlyfr13s @tiganasummertree @wyntereyez @klynn-stormz @onceratheart18 @rkrbirdgirl @ouatdaily @blowmiakisscolin @courtorderedcake @winterbaby89 @pirateprincessofpizza @superchocovian @deckerstarblanche @alexa-fangirl-forever @stahlop @undercaffinatednightmare @lostintheskyfaraway @anmylica @motherkatereloyshipper @last-tsarina @lfh1226-linda @hookedmom @yikes-00 @midnighth0ur @paradiselady19 @jonesfandomfanatic

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[myfearless-love]

Too Well Tangled (Chapter 12/21 - "From Brawls to Blueballs")

Chapters: 12/21 — "From Brawls to Blueballs"

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Relationship: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Characters: Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Arthur (Once Upon a Time), Knave of Hearts | Will Scarlet, Robin Hood (Once Upon a Time), Mad Hatter | Jefferson

Additional Tags: Captain Swan - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Enemies to Lovers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BAMF Emma Swan, Angst and Romance, Banter

Summary: Determined and tough-minded Emma Nolan is on a singular mission: to rescue her dim-witted brother from the clutches of Killian Jones, the infamously rakish Marquess of Hookstone. Little did she anticipate her own burgeoning desire for the audacious, unscrupulous scoundrel she intended to despise. Killian Jones, the enigmatic Marquess of Hookstone, has more than earned his sinister sobriquet, the "Prince of Darkness." His past, a stormy mosaic of rejection and rebellion, has forged a man both feared and revered. Yet, the indomitable Miss Nolan proves an unexpectedly formidable opponent for his infamous charm. But when Killian's reciprocated passion lands them in a scandalously compromising, and very public, predicament, Emma is left with no recourse but to demand satisfaction...

Previous chapters: ch. 1 II ch. 2 II ch. 3 II ch. 4 II ch. 5 II ch. 6 II ch. 7 II ch. 8 II ch. 9 II ch. 10 II ch. 11

READ HERE: AO3 or FF.net

Preview:

HUGE thank you to my amazing beta @xarandomdreamx for always catching my mistakes and leaving me smiling with her comments!!❤️

Tagging some folks who might be interested:

@anmylica @elfiola @zaharadessert @gingerchangeling @undercaffinatednightmare

@jrob64 @teamhook @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @mie779

@winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @stahlop @rylieblu @ultraluckycatnd

@eddisfargo @booksteaandtoomuchtv @laianely @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke

@beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @captainswan-kellie @veryverynotgoodwrites @lfh1226-linda

@snowbellewells @caught-in-the-filter @shady-swan-jones @bluewildcatfanatic

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)