CS shipper, born in the 60's @jrob64 - Tumblr Blog

CS AU: Being Ghosted (6/7)

Killian and Liam Jones are called in to help with the haunting of an old carriage house where a skeleton was recently found walled up within the cellar. This is no ordinary ghost hunt for the supernatural fighting brothers, however. This job will require Killian to face the person who has been haunting him for nearly a year. Emma Swan. The woman he ghosted.

A/N: We are getting closer to the finish line! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through my writing drought and inconsistent updates. As I mentioned in my last update, this fic is finished, so the final chapter will be posted a week from today!

Shout out to @kmomof4 for her exceptional beta skills! Also a HUGE thank you to @snowbellewells who made the cover art for my birthday last year. Thank you again, Marta! I absolutely love it!

Rated T / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Part Six

Orange and red bathed the headstones as the sun set over the graveyard. The three of them had waited in the park next to the cemetery, intending to enter closer to nightfall, but still within the permitted hours. Seated at a picnic table on the outskirts, they watched as a police car slowly crept down the road that ran alongside the burial site’s boundary.

“Bloody hell,” Killian cursed beneath his breath. “What is that? The third patrol in an hour?”

“Something like that,” Emma replied, before glancing at him sideways and cheekily adding, “The town stepped up their police presence here after some lunatic dug up and set fire to a body last year.”

Killian met her taunting countenance with an equally teasing sigh and feigned annoyed glower. The two could only hold their needling expression for a scant moment before smiles took over their faces.

Seemingly oblivious to the fond nostalgia being shared between his companions, Liam stood and began to make his way towards the treeline. “Lucky for us the Mills Mausoleum is on the other side of the cemetery, far from the road.”

Lucky, indeed.

Or so it had seemed.

Once they arrived at the Mill’s family resting place, their luck took a turn.

Killian had expected the mausoleum to be locked. Affluent family gravesights often were, as a way to ward off theft and vandalism. What he had not anticipated was the style and intricacy of said lock.

Crouching in front of the iron door, Killian cursed as he fiddled with the mechanism. “Bloody tumblers won’t budge. It’s as though they’re secured by magic.”

“We’ve no evidence that Cora was a witch,” Liam replied without a hint of sarcasm, his gaze scanning the area for any signs of interruption.

“I didn’t mean literally, brother,” Killian said with an eyeroll, then muttered, “Though, I wouldn’t have put it past her.”

A soft giggle pulled his attention upward to where Swan was standing over him, holding the flashlight. As it was prone to do, his body instantly reacted; his breath catching and his heart palpitating as a warm flush of desire and affection spread through him. Seeing her, bathed in moonlight amongst the headstones, transported him back to the night they met, here in this very cemetery.

What he wouldn’t give to go back and do things differently. He’d been such a fool and desperately hoped--now that everything was out in the open between them--that she’d give him a second chance. A tall order, considering she was currently romantically involved and living with another man. Even if he found said man to be lacking in a number of ways and nowhere near deserving of someone the caliber of Emma Swan.

Although, some might question whether he was any more deserving himself, given how he’d squandered his chance with her when he’d had it, regardless of how noble he thought his reasons were at the time.

“Want me to give it a try?” Emma asked, crouching down beside him. Her breath against his cheek caused a shiver to run down his spine, compromising his balance and landing him on his backside with an audible oomph.

“Shhh,” Liam hissed. “Someone’s coming.”

His brother hid behind a tall grave marker as the beam of a flashlight swept across the headstones. Grabbing Killian by the lapels of his jacket, Swan pulled him back towards the cover of the mausoleum’s shadow, the two of them tangled together as they sat pressed against the structure and one another.

The roar of his blood thundered in his ears as he held his breath, his focus torn between trying not to be discovered by who he assumed was one of the officers on patrol and the feel of Emma wrapped in his arms as she practically straddled his lap. It felt like an eternity before the coast became clear once more, but Killian made no effort to extricate himself from his current position. Leaning back to glance around the side of the mausoleum, Emma’s hips shifted over his groin and he was helpless to stop his body from responding, or the aching whimper from falling off his lips.

The startled swiftness with which she straightened back up, eyes wide and lips slightly parted told him his affliction had not gone unnoticed. The two of them held the other’s gaze for a long moment, and when her eyes dipped down to his lips, his followed suit. Their breathing shallowed, exhales mingling in the chilled air that was growing more charged by the second. His fingers gripped her hip a bit tighter, his thumb sliding under the hem of her sweater to the bare skin beneath causing her breath to hitch and her flesh to pebble from his touch. Cautiously, he inched forward, intending to close the gap and claim that perfect mouth of hers, but only if she gave him the slightest hint of consent to do so.

Consent he’d never know if he would have received, thanks to his clueless, meddlesome, infuriating brother.

“That was too close for comfort,” Liam whispered. “I think it best we take our leave and come up with a new plan.”

Emma scrambled off Killian’s lap, forcing another pained sound to escape from the back of his throat. Holding his hands out, Liam assisted them both to standing and waited for their agreement before setting off in the direction of the park.

It wasn’t until they were back in his Chevelle that Emma suggested, “Maybe the groundskeeper has a key to the mausoleum. We could ask Belle to find out. She could use the excuse of needing to update records or wanting to do research for city historical purposes.”

“Perhaps you could also ask Sheriff Humbert if he’d be willing to pull back on the patrols here, although I’m not sure what reason you’d give him,” Liam offered from the backseat, having graciously insisted that Swan ride shotgun, which Killian knew had been his brother’s way of torturing him. The git.

Emma smirked and stated, “If I have Ruby ask him he won’t need a reason.”

Liam chuckled. “Aye. The lass does seem to have your sheriff wrapped around her finger.”

“Among other parts of herself, I dare say,” Killian quipped, earning him a chortle from Swan and a slap at the back of his head from his brother. “Oi! Bad form to assault the driver whilst the vehicle is in motion!”

“Bad form to make such remarks about our host’s friend.”

“I assure you, I was only stating what Emma was already thinking. Isn’t that right, Swan?”

Glancing towards the passenger seat, Killian was met with a cheeky expression and mischievous glint sparkling from those enticing, green depths he often found himself lost in.

“Actually, I was gonna suggest that Liam talk with Belle about getting us access to the mausoleum, seeing as he wouldn’t mind being wrapped around more than just her finger.”

Killian erupted into laughter and peered at his brother through the rearview mirror. Even in the dim light of passing cars and streetlights he could see his brother’s face turn bright red. Fortunately, it was accompanied by a caught out smile and good-natured chuckle.

“Lass, I fear my brother has been a bad influence on you.”

“No more than I am over him,” she quipped back haughtily, furtively shooting Killian a look that made his pants tighten impossibly more.

He wasn’t sure how he’d ever manage to get out of the car, much less make it up the stairs to the front door. Coming up with some excuse to hang back, Killian remained behind the wheel as Emma and Liam both exited the car.

“I’ll see you both in the morning, then,” Swan replied, heading up the front steps, her tight jeans hugging her arse in a way that solidified the reality that Killian was in for a long, uncomfortable night.

“Everything alright, brother?” Liam asked with a little too much concern in his tone. “Finding it hard to put the day behind you?”

“Piss off,” Killian grummaced, throwing open the car door and stepping out into the cool night air.

“You’re both idiots, you know that right?”

Sighing, Killian conceded, “I’ll admit to you being half right. I’ve only myself to blame.”

Placing a firm hand on Killian’s shoulder, Liam urged, “Just tell her how you feel. Explain what happened after the Wend--”

“I have,” Killian told him. “But it’s not that simple. She’s with someone now. I don’t want to make things more complicated for her, or be the reason things fall apart and cause her more pain.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, brother,” Liam confided. “I have it on good authority that things were rocky between her and Neal long before we got here. If I were a betting man, I’d say their relationship has run its course and it’s only a matter of time before he’s out of the picture completely.”

“And you think I ought to be waiting in the wings, ready to pick up the pieces? A bit opportunistic, don’t you think?”

“I think,” Liam countered in a somber yet affectionate tone, “you should give yourself permission to fight for what you want. Give yourself permission to be happy. You deserve that as much as anyone else, little brother.”

Killian swallowed past the tightness in his throat and gave his brother a nod of understanding before following him inside, muttering younger as they entered the carriage house.

~/~

Consciousness came slowly, lazily, and with little effort. Stretching out the few kinks peppering her body, Emma could not remember the last time she’d slept so well. Allowing herself a few more moments of comfort, she hugged the pillow beside her and sighed into its softness. The smell of her laundry detergent and the lavender scented dryer sheets filled her sinuses and a contented smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

After they’d returned home from the cemetery, Emma had made her way upstairs and surveyed her room. Her room. No physical sign of Neal remained; a fact that had enveloped her in a blanket of relief. She’d wasted no time stripping the bed, replacing the sheets she’d last shared with him with fresh ones from the linen closet.

From the depths of her dresser drawer she’d pulled out the raggedy t-shirt she’d almost always worn to bed before Neal had become a frequent overnight fixture. The one he’d mocked incessantly until she finally replaced it with a cami or some other barely there pajama top. The soft, worn fabric felt like the embrace of an old friend on her skin, welcoming her back with comfort and ease.

Out of habit, she’d pulled back the blankets on what had been her side for the past couple months, but then stopped herself. She’d only started sleeping on that side, the one closest to the door, because Neal had preferred the other. The one closer to the bathroom, so he wouldn’t have to go too far if he awoke in the middle of the night, ensuring he’d get back to sleep quickly. Nevermind the fact he was never quiet about it and often woke her up in the process.

She supposed she could sleep on whichever side she chose now. Hell, she could take up the entire bed if she wanted. Smiling, she’d climbed onto the mattress and slid beneath the covers smack dab in the middle of the bed. Nestled beneath the weight of the extra blankets--Neal had always wanted it as cold as possible when he slept, despite her desire to stay warm and cozy--Emma had drifted off perfectly content.

Well, almost perfectly content.

There was that small pang of disappointment that it was a stack of quilts and not Killian’s body pressing her into the mattress before sleep fully claimed her. She’d be lying if she said it had only been a fleeting thought. Her dreams of him had been anything but fleeting.

Reluctantly, Emma rolled over and reached for her phone. Unplugging it from the charger, she did a double take when she read the time.

1:16 PM

“Holy shit!” Shooting up, she struggled to detangle herself from the blankets. Grabbing a pair of nearby leggings, Emma hopped towards the door on alternating legs as she struggled to put them on. A glance towards the guest room showed it to be empty, and after making her way down the stairs, another look into the study revealed the same. Turning into the kitchen, she stopped short at the sight of a shirtless Killian Jones, hair sticking up at odd angles with pajama pants perched precariously low on his hips, filling a cup of coffee.

“Morning, love,” he offered in a rough, gravelly voice before bringing the steaming mug to his lips. After a quick, testing swallow he turned towards her fully, his eyes taking her in over the brim as he took another sip. Tonguing an errant drop from the corner of his mouth, he smirked and said, “Nice shirt.”

Glancing down at herself, Emma remembered which shirt she’d put on the night before… and where it had come from in the first place.

“You’ve been taking good care of it, I see.” Before Emma could respond, Killian grabbed another cup from the cabinet and asked, “Coffee?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” she stammered. “Please.”

By the time he’d poured and handed her the beverage, she managed to pull herself together.

Sort of.

“Guess I’m not the only one who overslept?”

Scratching his fingers through his hair, Killian followed her to the living room, a yawn escaping him as he replied, “Seems so.”

Sinking down on opposite ends of her couch, they both took a drink and waited for the coffee to do its thing. Or for the other one to break the ice. Emma wasn’t quite sure which.

“Have you seen Liam?” she asked, tucking her feet beneath her and wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. For all its comfort and charm, the carriage house still had issues with letting in the morning chill.

Killian pulled an afghan off the back of the chair next to him and handed it to her. “Aye. Briefly.” He helped her spread out the blanket so she wouldn’t have to put her mug down, then added, “He woke me up about half an hour ago. Said he was going to meet Belle at the library and ask her about that key.”

Emma nodded and brought the cup up to her lips, murmuring against the edge, “I’ll call Ruby and see if she can work her magic on Graham.”

Setting her coffee down, Emma took her phone out of the side pocket of her leggings. She was scrolling through her contacts when Killian asked, “How’s Neal this morning? Haven’t seen him since yesterday’s unfortunate event.”

Sucking in her bottom lip, Emma warred with herself before confessing, “He’s, uh… He’s gone.”

“Gone to work?” Killian replied. “I would have thought he’d call out, but I suppose I can’t blame him for wanting to get out of the house for a bit.”

Emma opened her mouth to correct him, but was cut off by an incoming call. She didn’t recognize the number which normally would mean she wouldn’t answer. This time, however, she’d risk a telemarketer in order to have a reprieve from the current topic of conversation.

“Hello?”

“Miss Swan?” inquired a male voice on the other end of the line.

“This is she.”

“Miss Swan, this is Robin Locksley. We met briefly at Regina Mills’ house yesterday?”

Sitting up straighter, she waved at Killian to get his attention (which she already had) and took the phone away from her ear, putting it on speaker. “Yes, Mr. Locksley, I remember.”

Killian scooted closer and the two of them hovered over the phone as the man replied, “Oh, call me Robin. Please.”

“Robin,” Emma repeated. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve had a talk with Miss Mills… Regina, and she wonders if you’d mind her and I coming to the carriage house so we can all talk some more about… you know.”

“Of course!”

“Terrific. We can head that way in about an hour and be there around four?”

“We’ll be here.”

Killian leaned in so his voice would be picked up clearly, and said, “Robin, mate. It’s Killian. May I ask… What made Regina change her mind?”

Silence echoed over the line to the point that Emma wondered if Robin had ended the call before Killian spoke. The clearing of a throat attested otherwise.

“I’d prefer to have that conversation in person… if you don’t mind.”

Emma shared a bemused look with Killian who haltingly replied, “Sure thing, mate.”

A heavy sigh crackled over the phone. “Thanks. We’ll see you both soon.”

“Aye. Safe travels.”

“See you soon.”

Ending the call, they both sat back into the cushions, dumbfounded over this sudden turn of events. Now that Emma had a chance to process it, a series of concerns ran through her mind.

“You seem vexed, love. Unexpected as it may be, this is a good thing.”

“I know,” Emma said, worrying her lip. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Turning her body, Emma looked up at Killian, momentarily distracted by his chest, and whispered, “Is it really a good idea for her to come here? What about… you-know-who? We won’t have a chance to… you know, until after dark. Won’t Regina being here to find closure with Daniel amp Cora up?”

“Probably,” Killian responded nonchalantly, draping his arm over the back of the couch. “Unless we create a warded area that will keep her from interfering.”

Cocking her head to one side, Emma stared at him with a dubious expression and muttered, “How, exactly, do we do that?”

Shooting her a cocky grin and lifted brow, he crooned, “Leave that to me, love. Leave that to me.”

Emma snorted at his ridiculousness and was once again sidetracked by her phone. “It’s Ruby,” she said, putting her friend on speaker. “Hey, Rubes. I was just about to call you.”

“Too late,” Ruby said. “Belle got me first. I just talked with Graham.”

She shared yet another glance with Killian. They both should have known Liam wouldn’t waste time putting things in motion.

“And?” Emma prompted. “What did he say?”

“He said the best he could do was give you an hour of no patrols at shift change.”

“That’s it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Ruby replied. “He said, and I quote, ‘the mayor will have my guts for garters if he finds out I suspended patrols this close to Halloween.’ I mean honestly… who talks like that?”

Emma nearly laughed out loud at the affronted look on the face of the man she knew full well said things just like that.

“Sorry I couldn’t do better.”

“You did plenty, Rubes,” Emma assured her. “Do me a favor and let Belle know so she can tell Liam?”

“Will do,” Ruby replied, and Emma could almost hear the shift in her friend’s demeanor before she sultrily inquired, “So… how’s it going with Mr. Hot Cemetery Makeout Guy? You buy a ticket on that ride yet?”

“Ruby!” Emma exclaimed as Killian choked on the last bit of coffee he was polishing off and erupted into a fit of coughs.

“Oh, shit! He’s right there, isn’t he?”

“I have to let you go.” Without waiting for a response, Emma hung up and got up from the couch. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

His hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her, and he managed to croak out, “It’s fine, Swan. No need.” With one last cough, he cleared his throat then swallowed hard against the tight knot that had formed there. “See? Right as rain.”

“I’m sorry about Ruby, she’s…”

“No need to apologize,” he said, and it seemed to Emma that he was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that he was only half dressed. Releasing her wrist, he stood and headed towards the hallway. “I should get myself dressed. Robin and Regina will be here soon, and we need to…”

“Right,” Emma agreed, feeling a bit self-conscious about her own appearance. The thin material of her shirt likely left little to the imagination, especially since she wasn’t wearing a bra, to say nothing about the painted-on quality of her leggings. “I need to shower and get ready.”

Her face went red at the mention of a shower, and the traitorous thought of asking him to join her. Fortunately, Killian spoke again before her tongue could betray her.

“I’ll check-in with Liam and let him know of Regina’s impending arrival. Take your time. I’ll take care of getting things ready.”

As much as Emma wanted to question him about what that might entail, her instinct to run whenever things got emotionally overwhelming took over. Though she’d spent years trying to overcome the reaction and the root of its cause, it still reared its ugly head from time to time. Usually, she would berate herself when it did, but this time she was glad for it.

Racing up the stairs, she entered her room and firmly closed the door behind her. Shedding her clothes, it wasn’t until she was under the spray of the shower--the dial turned to a much colder temperature than usual--that Emma allowed herself to face the truth of why she’d run from him just now.

Because if she hadn’t, she would have done as Ruby suggested, and having Regina Mills show up as she was riding Killian probably wasn’t the best way to help the woman get closure.

~/~

It was much later than four before Robin and Regina arrived. Still struggling with doubt and a whole host of other emotions, Miss Mills had apparently insisted the two stop several times along the way. At one point, Robin had called to inform them of their updated estimated time of arrival, which would be cutting it close to the window of opportunity they had to enter the mausoleum. Knowing Emma would need one of the brothers there for support and assistance with helping Daniel move on, it was decided that Killian would stay behind while Liam and Belle - who was the one securing the key from the groundskeeper later that evening - would deal with Cora’s resting place.

When Robin and Regina finally arrived, the former extended heart-felt apologies while the latter coolly offered a ‘sorry I’m late’ before strolling into the structure she likely had not set foot in for many years, possibly decades. Emma welcomed them both, her nerves taking over and causing her to overshare about the remodel as Regina perused her surroundings. It wasn’t until Killian invited them all to have a seat in the living room, offering beverages that might make the situation a little less tense that everyone began to relax and soften.

“I must say,” Regina stated, accepting the offered libation being handed to her, “you have done a remarkable job here. Everything looks impeccably finished yet it feels so homey.”

“Thank you.” Swan took a swallow of her own drink, obviously allowing herself time to formulate a more in-depth response.

Killian, however, did not wish to waste time on small talk. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he began, cradling his tumbler in his hands as he leaned forward with his elbows resting on the tops of his thighs, “what changed your mind about coming here? You did not seem very keen on the idea when we left you, and given the amount of stops you made along the way, it seems you may not yet be completely at ease with the decision to be here.”

“Yes, well…” Regina took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before continuing. “You’re right. When you and Miss Swan left, I thought you were either some sort of conman team set out to swindle me, or completely insane.” Glancing over to the man seated beside her on the sofa, she added, “But after you were gone, Robin sought me out to check on me, and after I told him what you had said, he…”

Hesitantly, Robin reached over and took Regina’s hand, picking up on her distress before it became apparent to either Emma or Killian.

“I asked Regina whether she was willing to take the chance on you not being crazy and missing out on the opportunity to heal a long held wound.” Shifting in his seat, Robin met Killian’s eye and said, “I have some experience with unrestful spirits. My wife, Marion, visited me after her death.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Aye, mate,” Killian replied, echoing Emma’s sentiment. “Our condolences.”

“Thank you.”

Robin gave them both an appreciative nod then shared the story of his wife’s passing. Her death had been sudden and tragic; a fire had broken out at her workplace and due to several fire code violations, she and several of her co-workers had perished in the blaze. Robin had been out of town for work in a rather remote area and had not spoken to his wife for several days, only communicating via e-mail. When he was notified of what happened, he’d been told she was identified by dental records and there was no need for him to identify the body. In fact, he was encouraged not to, being told he would not wish to remember her that way.

“Of course, I said good-bye to her at the funeral, but…” Swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat, Robin looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to quell the tears pooling in his eyes. “It felt so empty. I remember being tortured by the fact that I couldn’t even remember the last thing I ever said to her. Had I told her I loved her? Had I made her feel missed? Or had I been short and flippant because I was busy?”

Taking a fortifying drink, he gave himself a moment before clearing his throat to continue. “It was about a month after her death that I started to… experience things.”

“What sort of things?”

“The smell of her perfume, an indentation on her pillow, the feeling of her presence, and what I thought to be the occasional glimpse of her in the corner of my eye. I thought I was going mad, and I confided in one of my mates, Will.”

“And did this Will believe you?”

Robin let out a light chuckle. “Not only did he believe me, he dragged my arse to a psychic medium he knew.”

“You went to a psychic?” Emma inquired, fascinated. “Who?”

“A woman by the name of Zelena,” Robin told her. Killian filed the name away in the back of his mind and encouraged the man to tell them more about the meeting with her. “She backed up all my experiences. Said that those who die suddenly or violently often have difficulty moving on due to having unfinished business. She, uh… she helped me get closure. She helped me say a proper good-bye.”

Killian did not wish to offend the man, but he had to ask. “And you are certain she was… legit?”

To his relief, Robin smiled at the question. “Regina said the same thing.”

“I did,” Miss Mills said, sheepishly. “And I’m still not sure I believe in ghosts, or psychics, or any of this,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the room around them. “But what Robin told me in reply made me at least keep an open mind and be willing to see this through.”

Killian and Emma shared a common look of curiosity before Swan asked, “What did you tell her?”

“I told her,” Robin said, squeezing Regina’s hand. “That even if I had imagined everything that had happened after Marion’s death, and even if Zelena was a total fraud… The closure was real. The peace is real. The firm belief that Marion is in a better place, her unfinished business resolved… that’s real. And it has allowed me to move forward through my grief into a life that is still worth living.”

A long pause hung in the room; Robin and Regina looked fondly at one another while Killian and Emma shared furtive glances. The buzz of Killian’s phone broke the reverie, and he apologized as he pulled the device from his pocket.

Key acquired. Headed to the cemetery. The text from Liam read. Putting the phone back in his pocket, Killian turned his attention back to the couple who was looking at him expectantly.

“So…” Regina drew out, hesitantly. “What now?”

“Now,” Killian replied, getting to his feet. “We get you and Daniel the same closure.”

Part Seven - Coming Soon!

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