proud mother

        “ mrs. allen is senile. ” killian grumbles, practically throwing himself onto the sofa. “ i don’t remember you ever digging for info from LIAM. ” the teen continues to mumble, eyes moving to watch his mother’s obsessive cleaning. “ and like i said– just friends. her name is emma. ”

@mommajxnes

        “ MOM. ” killian spouts out tiredly. there was nothing like getting the third degree from your mother when you arrive home from school. he forgot that this town was so small that one of his mom’s new pals would have saw him walking and flirting with a rather gorgeous individual. “ they’re a friend, that’s it! ”

                    “As am I,” he agrees, knowing how lucky he was to have Nemo come across him when he did; much longer on his own and he surely would’ve done something stupid to cut his life short. It might have taken him time to accept Nemo’s offer for a place among his crew and family, but eventually Liam became grateful for the turn in his fate.

                    Fingers tighten around the basket’s handle, and it takes him a moment to notice the change in Evelynn’s demeanor, lost in his own thoughts surrounding his mother. Not until he hears the tightness of her voice that pulls him back to the present, and his face drops in shame, silently berating himself for his obliviousness. Thinking about his mother, he hadn’t considered Evelynn’s feelings over hearing about Brennan’s second wife– and second life. “Crap, I- I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I should’ve known better,” he quickly apologizes. He knew how awkward it was to hear even the smallest snippets of his brothers’ childhoods. It couldn’t be any easier hearing about the man you once cared for loving a different woman.

                                        “Oh, no no no,” Evelynn replied, shaking the tenseness from her posture and offering him a small smile. “You’re not an idiot, and you don’t have to apologize for the happiness and happy memories you have of your family.” She shrugged a shoulder, leaning against the metal doorframe of the Nautilus’ entrance. “I know he loved you very, very much, and -- all things considered -- I’m glad to hear that he did right by at least one family.” At least from what it sounded like, Brennan had gotten his act together at some point in his life and started anew with his new wife, raised a son free from the pain and complications that plagued his first marriage. 

                                        “It’s just, well.” She let out a chuckle, scrunching a hand up in her raven curls. “This whole situation is far from normal. Hearing about who my husband moved on to after my death, meeting the son he raised with her. I’m not----even too sure why I’m here, alive.” Surprisingly enough, she found this confession easy to admit to this Liam rather than either of her sons. Admitting it to them would only upset them, and she didn’t want that especially since they’d all just found each other again. 

mommajxnes:

thepiratehero:

Killian had never really felt strong or brave in his life. Not when he was used to being hurt so much. But his mother being proud of him made him smile. He had always wondered what it would be like to have a parent that cared about him and now he did. It was more than he ever thought he would ever have.

It was nice to have a room and a bed as it was. He wasn’t sure he cared a lot about anything else. He never had a lot to his name. And he was never used to anyone asking him what he would like to eat. “Oh…  I . .  I don’t know. I’ve never had a lot… . to eat.” he admitted, not sure what kind of food he would even ask for. “The … foster parents just always gave me scraps off their plates when they were done eating. And… never sent me lunch for school.” 

Just going through all that he’d gone through in his foster home made Killian brave in Evelynn’s eyes. She knew that those living conditions couldn’t have been easy in the slightest, but the fact that he still got up in the morning and tried to get through it was the definition of bravery. She was in awe of her son despite not knowing him for very long yet, from his resilience and his bravery.

Evie raised a brow, his words confirming her suspicions on the big coat that concealed his body. Probably to hide his appearance, malnourishment included. “Well, I do love to cook. So if you’re up to the task, I’ll try my best to keep that tummy filled.” She hoped that her attitude might help put him at ease, not make him feel so out of place from the treatment he’d received in the past. She grinned, arms folding and tilting her head. “That is…after tonight. If you’ve never had either, then your first proper meal should be pizza. It’s as close to magic as this world possesses.” She nodded towards his room before taking one step back towards the living room. “I’ll call for delivery, you get settled.”

It was going to take come getting used to having someone actually care about him. The clothes he currently had were baggy as well as his coat. Always trying to hide how skinny he was because he feared what would happen if someone tries to talk to his foster parents about it.

He was never used to eating a lot so he wasn’t sure how much he could really eat. But he liked the idea of being able to actually have a real meal considering all he had ever got was scraps. He smiled at her mother when she said that she was going to call for pizza and let him get settled. He nodded before picking up his backpack and heading to his room. It was still hard to process that he had an actual room. Not that he had a lot to unpack but now he actually had somewhere to put the little bit he did have.

                                          Evelynn returned to the living room, smile still on her face. However once she reached the kitchen, hands gripping the kitchen counter tight...she allowed herself a moment to break down, silently, just a little. A few tears slipped onto the wooden counter, which she quickly wiped away. Her son was abused, physically and emotionally, which killed her. She didn’t think she could ever forgive herself for not looking hard enough, far enough, not finding him sooner. 

                                         The woman took a deep, albeit a little shaky, breath and dried her tears, before picking up the phone and calling for pizza. She had a bit of a crisis on the phone with the uninterested teenager on the other line, because she realized as she started to order that she hadn’t a blue what kind of pizza Killian might like best. So...she went a little crazy, ordering a meat pizza, a vegetable pizza, and then a cheese pizza just in case he didn’t care for toppings. Three pizzas for two people was admittedly a little excessive, but she didn’t know when the kitchen might be in cooking shape, so leftovers on standby were probably a smart plan.

Killian had never really felt strong or brave in his life. Not when he was used to being hurt so much. But his mother being proud of him made him smile. He had always wondered what it would be like to have a parent that cared about him and now he did. It was more than he ever thought he would ever have.

It was nice to have a room and a bed as it was. He wasn’t sure he cared a lot about anything else. He never had a lot to his name. And he was never used to anyone asking him what he would like to eat. “Oh…  I . .  I don’t know. I’ve never had a lot… . to eat.” he admitted, not sure what kind of food he would even ask for. “The … foster parents just always gave me scraps off their plates when they were done eating. And… never sent me lunch for school.” 

Just going through all that he’d gone through in his foster home made Killian brave in Evelynn’s eyes. She knew that those living conditions couldn’t have been easy in the slightest, but the fact that he still got up in the morning and tried to get through it was the definition of bravery. She was in awe of her son despite not knowing him for very long yet, from his resilience and his bravery.

Killian had never knew for sure why his foster parents had been able to get away with how they treated him for so long. He assumed it was related to his old social worker who seemed to not care how he was treated after he was placed there. It wasn’t as if she ever actually came in to check on him. And any time he tried to make a plea for help and she showed up, it ended with him being punished. So he had stopped asking, instead trying to hide how he had been treated. 

He felt more tears in his eyes when his mother admitted that she never stopped looking for him. He didn’t hate her for that. He hated his father. The man who had thrown him and his brother away as if they meant nothing to him. And all this time he could have at least had one parent that cared about him. He hated that his father took him away from his mother when she had wanted him. “It’s okay, Momma, its not your fault.” he stated as he looked up at her. She had found him after all. And if she hadn’t he didn’t know if he would have lived much longer where he had been. “I’ve never had anyone I could talk to about it before. I tried to .  . ask for help. But the social worker before… she didn’t care. She just let them do whatever they wanted.” 

                                             Evelynn smiled sadly, brushing his hair from his face as he told her about how he’d tried to get help, but no one listened to him. “I wish I could’ve protected you from the darker parts of this world...You didn’t deserve anything that happened to you.” Her smiled turned away from something sad, then...to something proud. “I’m so proud of you, for being so strong, and brave.” She hugged him again, pulling back and kissing his forehead. 

send 🙋 + a topic for a headcanon

See, here’s the thing about Evie. She doesn’t grow wary of the unknown. So when she gets to Storybrooke, sees how different it is from the only world she’s ever known...she’s absolutely fascinated by it. And growing up dirt poor, it’s just astounding to her the quality of life people have in this new world. With fresh food, medicines, clothes that aren’t threadbare, homes that won’t be toppled over by a strong gust, technology... 

send 🙋🏼 + a topic for a headcanon 

Oooooooh, I have so many ideas about this. Sadly I’ve not been able to play them out with any Emmas! 

The whole place was amazing as far as he was concerned. The foster parents house itself wasn’t bad but he had never been allowed to come out of the closet they called his room. He knew that it would be different, but different in a good way. And though the change would take time to get used to, he was happy for it.

At her question he looked at her and gave her a small sad smile. “No… just… a sleeping bag.” he admitted, as he bit his lower lip and picked at his nails. “I … just slept in the … hallway closet. That’s what they called my room.” He knew it wasn’t right, but any plea for help that he had given was met with punishment from his foster parents. And the social worker he had before had some kind of deal with them. He moved to hug her again, part of him not wanting her to feel bad for something she hadn’t been able to stop. “I’m glad you found me, Mom.” 

                                                She didn’t mean for her shock to make him feel self-conscious or embarrassed. He couldn’t help the horrible conditions he’d found himself subjected to. Evie felt anger at the system, first for separating him from his brother, and then for placing him in such a damaging place. Didn’t they inspect these places? Screen the foster parents? Weren’t there checks in place to make sure things like this never happened? Her sweet, precious son had been made to sleep in a closet like he was a lesser human, just because he didn’t have his parents with him. Well, no more.

It was all so much but for the first time in his life he had hope again. It was something that he had lost after only a few months of living with the cruel foster parents he had been forced to endure. It had been stomped out of him when he realized that nobody was going to help him. And now not only was he free of them, he had his mother again.

When his father had taken him from her, he had been so young he didn’t remember her. He hadn’t remembered her face, what she was like, even her name. And his father had refused to reveal any of that information to him when he asked. At the time he said because it hurt to much but now he knew that was a lie. He had so many questions for the man that he knew he would never see again. One being why he didn’t just leave him with his mother when his father didn’t want him? 

He had never had a lot in his life. He only had a couple pairs of pants and shirts to his name. And he often had to wash them in the sink at his foster parents house so he could wear them again. The only other things he had was a little bit of cash he had been hiding from doing a couple odd jobs and a couple small notebooks. His foster parents had always told him that he wasn’t worth spending any money on. 

The car ride was quiet, Killian not sure what to say to his mother. There was so much he wanted to know. She was his mother but he didn’t know anything about her. And there was a part of him that wanted to know how long she had been looking for him. His guess was that she never found his brother either, otherwise he figured he would have been with her. 

When they arrived at the apartment he looked around. It was small, but nice. Given that he only ever spent his time in the closet that was supposed to be his room at his foster parents, anything was better. Then she showed him his room and he couldn’t help but be in awe. “I have a room? With a real bed.” he stated, not sure what to do with himself with that much room. For so long he had so little and suddenly he felt like he had everything.

                                               Evelynn tried her best to gauge his reaction as she showed him around the place, hoping that he liked it. There had been a delicate balance between that old, years-dormant feeling of wanting to nest and prepare for her child, mixed with the haste of wanting to have the apartment ready as soon as possible so she could take him home. But even still, things were pretty generic. Most of her belongings that would give the place character -- art, a small library of books, her wide array of mugs -- were still in boxes in the storage closet. How could she think of mugs and arranging shelves when her son was in a foster home and needed her? 

❝ Can you blame me? Today just seems like an    extraordinary day. ❞