Archie (c) @kscribbs, from the story Sniffles, some post Miller's Law fluffy goodness~
CAN YOU BELIEVE K FINALLY UNLEASHED THIS LITTLE MANS ON US???? ARCHIE HIMSELF! IN THE FLESH! I was so excited y'all, I've had this one saved since TWENTY TWENTY FOUR!!!!! FOR WHEN HE DROPPED! I'M SO EXCITED WE ALL GET TO SEE HIM NOW! AH! AND I CAN SHARE MY SILLY LITTLE DOODLES ABOUT IT!!
I've yet to finish reading Sniffles but would strongly recommend it just so you can meet Archie. He is SO cutie pie. I NEED to squish him. He gives me SUCH cuteness aggression and Jacqueline would just adore him from the get go, full stop (hence the meme redraw here hehe). I'm about halfway through, and I am ENAMOURED. AND I'VE HAD LIL SNEAK PEEKS, LADS! AH!
I have some more art of this lad to come, too! Like. I have been sitting on cute doods for AGES! We got him with his cousins on the back burner! Ah!
ANYWAY! As per the usual I am totally enamoured with Miller's Law and all of K's amazing work, and you should be too and go read it ASAP bc it's AMAZING, ok, thank you, GOOD NIGHT
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Summary: “If it’s aid of a magical sort ye seek, then you’ll be wanting to find the witch in the woods.”
A/N: Holy crap! What's this? Another finished fic?? Those Killian sacrifices are really paying off! Seriously, though, I am so sorry this took so long for me to wrap up. I hope y'all will find this a conclusion satisfactory as reward for your patience. Your support and comments have meant the world to me. Without them this may never have gotten finished!
Now to keep the momentum going, should I work on my Serial Killer with a Twist AU or my Bachelor/Bachelorette Weekend in Vegas AU next? Reply, comment, or send me an Ask with your vote!
All my love to @kmomof4 as usual for giving this a once over!
Rated T (for now?) / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
Part Six
Skull Rock was shrouded in fog, the dense mist adding a refracting filter over the torchlight flickering from the cavern’s opening. The weight of the air, heavy with a humidity usually only found within the Dark Jungle made Hook feel as though he were being dragged underwater rather than flown through the night sky. Glancing to his left, he could make out Emma cradled in the arms of The Shadow, a look of determination mixed with trepidation affixed on her features which shimmered under the moonlight.
While The Shadow took care to soften its landing with Swan in its embrace, the shadows transporting him were not so delicate. Hook’s knees buckled from the hard landing and his feet were swept out from beneath him as his spectre guards began pulling him along towards the cave’s entrance.
The Shadow had told them that Pan expected Hook to arrive weakened, so Swan (with some difficulty) had conjured a glamour spell to make him look as though he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. Now he and the other shadows were playing their part in case Pan already had eyes on them. With his head down, lolling in all directions from the way he was being unceremoniously dragged up the stairs, he hoped neither Pan nor the Dark One would suspect the trickery, or come to realize he was no longer in possession of his own shadow.
Who was currently on a very important mission; one crucial to their success and survival.
The stairs opened up to a spacious room at the center of the cave. Large holes within the exterior - the eyes of the skull shaped grotto - looked out over the coastline. An ocean breeze filled the chamber; the fresh brine both calming and invigorating to Hook’s senses, fortifying him for what was to come.
The shadows continued to lug him across the floor. Hook kept his head down and his body limp until he was roughly deposited against the stones in front of two sets of feet. A deep groan echoed out from his chest and he rolled over onto one side, clutching his ribs on the other.
“Be careful!” Emma pleaded beside him, struggling against The Shadow’s hold. “Haven’t you hurt him enough?”
Tilting his head back, Hook looked up into the faces of his two worst enemies, a scowl pulling at his split lip and a murderous rage glinting from his swollen and blackened eyes. The Dark One crouched down, his reptilian visage hovering within Hook’s view and a wide, gloating grin spread across his lips.
“Always a pleasure to see you like this, Captain,” he sneered. “So glad you could join us.”
“Indeed,” Pan agreed. “Lovely of you both to accept my invitation.”
“As though you left us any choice,” Emma replied back in a tone of pure venom. “Where is Henry? Where is my son?”
“All in good time,” Pan answered. “The lad is being well looked after by my Lost Boys. No need to fret.”
Knowing the Lost Boys as he did, Hook knew she had every reason to fret. Fortunately, a blur of black silhouettes wooshed across the cavern’s openings like billows of smoke, racing towards Pan’s encampment to retrieve the lad before any further harm could come to him.
“Why are we here?” Hook panted out in a pained cadence, forcing himself up to his knees in an effort to continue to sell his injuries. “What game are you playing now?”
“It’s quite simple, really,” Pan began in that irritating voice of feigned innocence. “We each wanted you here for different reasons. I…” he continued, stepping forward and indicating to himself with his eyes trained on Swan. “require your magic. And my son…”
The Dark One grabbed a fistfull of Hook’s hair and hauled him to his feet by his scalp. His pained cry almost drowned out Rumplstiltskin’s dementedly maniacal laugh as he brought him in close and confessed in the pirate’s face, “Why… I want you dead, of course!”
“Well, go on then,” Hook challenged, defiantly. “What are you waiting for?”
“No! Stop!” Emma cried out, wrenching her arm out of The Shadow’s grasp and sending a pulse of magic straight at Rumplestiltskin's chest.
The force of the blast caused him to release Hook and stagger backwards. Much to Hook’s displeasure, Swan braced herself in front of him, shielding him, and ready to match the Dark One curse for curse.
“Now, now,” Pan tutted, throwing his progeny a hard look. “As I said, all in good time. Remember our deal? I’m first.”
“What do you mean, you’re first?” Emma demanded with her hands still raised. Magic may work differently than she was used to, but they had both agreed - along with The Shadow - that she ought to risk using it if necessary.
“The reasons we brought you here,” Pan informed her. “I get to have mine fulfilled first.”
“You mean Swan’s magic?” Hook limped forward to stand next to Emma and followed up the inquiry with another. “What bloody use is her magic to you and why would she ever agree to relinquish it?”
“To save her son, of course,” Pan answered, his words delivered as though that fact ought to have been obvious.
Hook shared a wary yet hopeful glance with Emma, then turned his attention back to the demon brat who was now arrogantly lounging against a craggy outcropping with his arms and ankles crossed.
“Go on.”
“It’s simple really,” Pan began. “I need an infusion of powerful magic to retain my youth and keep the reaper at bay.” His eyes narrowed in on Swan, the unnatural hunger and covetousness in his eyes sparking Hook’s anger and possessiveness. “A seer once told me I could gain the power I needed from the heart of a boy descended of my line, one full of unshakeable belief, but--”
“You’ll never get my son’s heart! I’ll die before I let you--”
“Yes, yes,” Pan waved off Emma’s outcry and threats with an air of boredom, then carried on as though they were discussing nothing more serious than the weather. “Well, it turns out the heart must be given willingly, and your little brat has been less than cooperative. Therefore…”
Sauntering forward, Pan came to stand in front of Swan, and Hook moved to place himself between them. His efforts were thwarted by a rough shove from the Dark One which landed him on his backside.
“I’ll make you a deal.” Pan circled Emma, who remained stiff-backed with a glower of determination scowling from her features. “While I could keep the boy here in an effort to wear him down and comply, I’m afraid time is not on my side… even here. So…”
“So you want my magic in exchange, hoping it will be enough to keep you alive until another option presents itself,” Emma finished for him, doing her best to keep the fear and torment out of her voice, but Hook could still detect it and his heart ached all the more for her.
“You managed to go nearly a decade without using it, if I’m not mistaken,” Pan rationalized callously. “Surely, you won’t miss it that much. A small price to pay for the life of your son, wouldn’t you say?”
Glancing back at Hook, Emma raised her brows; the hope that he might signal to her that their plan could be put into motion clearly pouring from her eyes. With a subtle shift of his head, Hook tried to convey they’d have to stall a bit longer. The crestfallen look she gave him let him know the message was received. With a decisive swallow, she straightened her shoulders and turned back to Pan.
“I’ll give you my magic with one additional condition.”
“Oh?” Pan replied, eagerly. “Do tell.”
Gesturing back at Hook, she demanded, “Hook’s life is also spared and he leaves with Henry and me.”
Pan drew in a hissing breath of supposed remorse, but Hook knew the boy did not possess the capacity for such an emotion. “I’m afraid I can’t make that deal.” A sinister grin lifted the corners of Pan’s mouth and he stepped back to gesture at the demon beside him. “You’ll have to take up the pirate’s fate with him.”
Another maniacal giggle twittered from the Dark One’s throat, setting Killian’s teeth on edge. “Care to make another deal, Dearie?”
“Don’t do it, Swan,” Hook pleaded, finally getting to his feet. “You know this demon can’t be trusted.”
Ignoring Hook’s protest, Emma asked, “What do you want? What will it take to spare his life?”
“Let’s see,” he drawled ominously. “How about… the life of your son.”
“Never!”
Emma stretched out her hands, ready to blast curses at both their adversaries, willing to risk her own safety should the corrupted nature of the island cause her magic to backfire. Grabbing her wrist, Hook stalled her actions and out of the corner of his eye he saw a glint of metal sparkle from the cavern's eyes.
His shadow had returned. Victorious.
“You can’t really expect Swan to trade her own son for me,” Hook grit out through clenched teeth. “And you,” he said to Pan, “blinded by the capriciousness of a prophecy, you have failed to see the answer to your problem even when it is literally standing before you.”
An intrigued perplexity pulled at Pan’s features as he cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean by that, Captain?”
Hook shifted his weight and tucked his thumb into his belt. “I’ve spent a long time trying to find a way to exact my revenge on Rumplestiltskin, and in the course of that pursuit, I learned something.”
“You’ve piqued my interest, pirate, but my patience will not last.”
“There is another prophecy,” Hook told him. “One about a boy--one who will be more than he appears and who will lead the Dark One to his son. This boy shall be his undoing.” Shifting his attention to Rumplestiltskin, Hook clarified, “That’s why you want Henry dead. You believe him to be the boy.”
“Are you suggesting he is not?” the Dark One challenged. “You think you can save his skin by attempting to cast doubt?”
Shrugging, Hook replied, “I’m merely offering another perspective.” Taking a few purposeful steps to his left, the pirate positioned himself closer to the opening where his shadow remained hidden. “It seems to me it wasn’t Swan’s lad who led the Dark One to his son, but another boy altogether.” Flicking his eyes onto Pan, Hook stated, “One that is much more than he seems.”
Pan’s eyes widened in comprehension and Rumplestiltskin’s face grew pale beneath his scaly pallor.
“I see you both finally understand,” Hook said with a malevolent smirk. “Pan is the boy who shall be your undoing.”
“Impossible,” Rumplestiltskin scoffed. “We all know there’s only one way to kill me, and good luck finding the necessary--”
“Ah, yes. That.” The hard crack of the t reverberated off the rocky walls. Reaching his hand towards the sky, Hook gloatingly said, “You should know by now… pirates make their own luck.”
Hook’s shadow came soaring into the chamber and deposited the Dark One’s dagger into its master’s hand.
“NO!” Rumplestiltskin bellowed, lunging for the dagger only to be held back by his nemesis’ shadow.
Emma rushed forward and took the opportunity to snap her enchanted cuff onto the Dark One’s wrist, rendering him incapable of using his magic against them. The entire scene was silently witnessed by Pan, whose expression grew more and more delighted and more and more menacing.
“Well, now.” Pan slowly clapped his hands together in appreciation and approached Hook. “Isn’t this an interesting turn of events?”
“Indeed,” Hook replied, gripping the dagger tightly in his hand. “Looks like the only ones who will be making a deal are you and I.”
“I’m listening.”
“You free the boy, allow Swan to keep her magic, and guarantee us safe passage off the island. In exchange, the dagger is yours.”
“And with it you expect me to murder my own son?” Pan asked, feigning shock and outrage.
“We both know you’d gladly sacrifice your entire bloodline for the chance at the power and immortality he possesses,” Hook shot back, holding out the dagger. “Do we have a deal?”
Pan’s greedy eyes dropped down to the curved blade then flicked back up to the pirate’s. “You would willingly give me such power? Knowing the horrors I am likely to inflict?”
“So long as you leave Emma, her lad, and me be to live our lives in peace, I don’t much care.”
“Well then,” Pan purred, extending out his hand. “I’d say you’ve got yourself a deal, Captain.”
Rumplestiltskin began to protest, begging and pleading for Pan to reconsider as Hook handed over the dagger. Without hesitation and absolutely zero remorse, the demon boy plunged the dagger straight into the Dark One’s chest.
“What have I always told you, Rumple?” The boy whispered with a vicious gleam in his eyes. “Pan. Always. Wins.”
Death rattles gurgled up the Dark One’s throat and Hook pulled Emma in close, turning her into his chest to save her from having to witness the gruesome sight. He would not deny the pleasure it gave him to see his old enemy in the throes of dying, even if it meant giving his other adversary nearly unlimited power.
Rumplestiltskin dropped to the cobbled floor, his hand wrapped around the dagger protruding from his chest, as he struggled to draw breath. Pan turned, triumphant; his stance wide and his hands smugly braced against his hips. A savage smile split his face and a feral glint gleamed from his eyes, sending a shudder down Hook’s spine.
A final rasp hissed from the former Dark One’s lips and his hand went limp, failing to the ground. Pan’s features began to glitter under the torchlight of the cavern and a swirl of black tendrils crept up his legs.
“See that my part of the deal is met, then come collect me at the Dark Vault,” he said to his Shadow, whom he believed was still loyal to him. The spectre nodded, and Pan vanished in a billow of pitch.
Hook and Emma stood in weary silence for several erratic beats of their hearts before turning to embrace one another. They’d done it! They’d beat Pan at his own game!
“I should not wait too long before going after him,” The Shadow commented, breaking the two apart and forcing them to focus on the next part of their plan.
“How long will you be g--”
Emma’s question was cut off by the exuberant sounds making their way from the cave’s openings.
“Mom!”
“Henry!”
Swan sprinted towards her boy, who was being gently set down by the shadows that had gone to retrieve him. Dropping to her knees, she pulled the lad into her arms and he reciprocated, wrapping his tightly around her neck.
Hook repositioned himself to try and hide the body of Rumplestiltskin from the boy’s view. However, the action caught Henry’s attention and his eyes widened in terror.
“Y-You’re Captain Hook! The Lost Boys told me about you!”
“It’s okay, Henry.” Swan stood and took her son’s hand, leading him over to the pirate. “He helped me get here. He helped me save you from Pan and--”
“Pan!” Fearfully, the boy searched the room, his head swiveling to and fro. “He wants my heart! He said he’d hurt you if I didn’t give it to him, but I knew you’d…” Impossibly, the lad’s eyes grew even wider when they landed on the poorly concealed body behind Hook’s feet. “Is that the Dark One? What happened to him? Is he… is he dead?”
Turning her son around so his back was now to the gruesome scene, Emma continued her assurances that the boy was safe and had nothing further to fear. Flicking her eyes up to Hook, a pleading glimmered from their jade depths and the pirate answered with a nod of understanding. Swan recounted the entire tale of what she had gone through, beginning at the point of his abduction and following through to the most recent events, all while Hook worked to move Rumplestiltskin’s body to a dark corner of the cavern.
Once sufficiently out of sight, he grasped the dagger and freed it from his enemy’s chest with a firm tug, then with his hook, he pried off the magic binding cuff from the corpse’s wrist. A sick churning overwhelmed his gut as he read the name now etched upon the blade and was reminded of the new horror they had unleashed upon the realms.
Lifting his head, he faced The Shadow hovering beside him. “Are you certain this will work?”
“It has to.”
Hook was not at all comforted by that reply as he handed over the dagger and cuff, but they had few options at this point.
“Once you’ve taken control of him with those,” Hook began, nodding at the implements, “will you bring him back here or keep him imprisoned in another realm?”
“Here,” The shadow replied without giving it a moment’s thought. “The island won’t like it, but he must be kept where he can be monitored, and I have a duty to mend what he destroyed.”
“I do not envy you that task.” Hook may not have the same magical intuition as actual purveyors of the mystic arts, but he had seen the changes and corruptions of the island firsthand since that initial tragic visit with his brother and all the years he’d spent trapped in the demon boy’s service.
“Captain?”
Young Henry’s voice echoed across the cavern and Hook was quick to follow it back to its source, lest the boy seek him out and catch another harrowing glimpse of the body.
“Aye, lad?” He slowed his steps as he drew closer and tucked his hook behind his back, not wishing to frighten the boy with his namesake.
“I… I wanted to say thank you,” Henry said, staring up at him with the same warm, brown eyes another boy had looked upon him with long ago. “My mom said she’d never have been able to rescue me without you. I owe you my life.”
Sticking his small hand out, Henry stood rod straight as he awaited the pirate’s acceptance. A touched, soft smile lifted the corners of Hook’s lips and he took the lad’s hand.
“No thanks required, my boy. It is I who owe you and your mother. If not for her, I’d still be indentured to Pan and just as much a captive on the island as you were.”
Twisting his head to one side, Henry’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. “You are not at all what I expected for a pirate,” he said. “I always thought pirates were the bad guys.”
Something unpleasant tightened in Hook's chest. “I hope that recent experiences have proven that, at least on this island, I am not the bad guy.”
“And neither is he,” Emma informed her son, indicating the umbral spectre still hovering in the dark corner. “You can come forward. He knows you were powerless to deny Pan’s bidding as well.”
The Shadow presented himself and gave an apologetic bow towards the boy. Hook noted that he too was concealing potentially distressing items behind his back. Although, the effort wasn’t quite as successful given his gossamer nature.
“So, what now?” the lad asked, turning his face up towards his mother. “You said we can’t go home because the village turned against you.”
“We’ll just have to find a new home,” she told him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. “The important thing is, we’ll be together and no one will ever separate us again.”
“I actually have a proposition for you in that regard,” The Shadow began, hesitantly. “What would you say to staying and making a home here for a while?”
Emma balked, her lips parting in surprise and her brows arching up her forehead. “Here? In Neverland?”
Hook was also taken aback. Surely the entity must know of their eagerness to leave this accursed place.
“I realize it is not an ideal environment, but with your help Neverland can be restored to what she once was.”
A look of uncertainty crossed her features and her mouth opened to voice, what Hook could only presume would be, a resounding refusal.
“Please,” The Shadow pleaded, stalling Swan’s words. “Truth be told… I am not certain I can heal all of her wounds without you.”
“Why me?” she asked, and Hook could see the heartache she felt for the island shimmer within her eyes even as she fought to keep her resolve. “There are plenty of others, more suited to the work than I, whom you could enlist.”
“But none of them possess white magic as powerful as yours.” His head tilted down towards Henry and he added, “Nor do they have the heart of the truest believer beating within their chest.” He cast his eyes out towards the shoreline, the moonlight glittering upon the waves and mused, “I do not think any of this has been a coincidence. I believe you have always been meant to save this place.”
“I’m no saviour,” Emma refuted. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin to--”
“Yes. You are,” Hook reminded her. “You saved me. You saved your son. You saved all the shadows who were doomed to be trapped here forever.” When her stubbornness refused to release the dubious expression from her face, Hook took her hand and pulled her in close. “How many people have you helped over the years? Even while you were in hiding and without your magic, I know you could not have sat idly by while others suffered from that which you could help ease.”
“How could you possibly--”
“Because I know you, Swan,” he murmured with a flirty smirk. “You are something of an open book… to me.”
She swallowed hard then inhaled deeply. “What about Henry? There are still so many dangers here and I--”
“I’ll be fine!” the boy protested. “The Shadow and the Captain are right, Mom. If we can help make Neverland better, then shouldn’t we stay and at least try?”
Sensing they nearly had her swayed, Hook offered, “The two of you can stay with me on my ship. I swear no harm will come to the boy whilst he is in my charge.”
Henry’s eyes lit up. “Can we really?”
“No,” Emma replied, emphatically, gripping Hook’s hand tightly. “You can’t possibly mean to stay. Not when you are finally free to leave.”
Running the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, he confessed, “My reasons for wanting to leave this place no longer exist.”
“What possible reason could you have for wanting to stay, though?”
An amused and slightly exasperated huff puffed from his chest. “Don’t you know, Emma?” he whispered. “It’s you.”
Before that wall of hers could begin to fortify itself, he gave her hand one last gentle squeeze then stepped back, tucking his thumb into his belt as he cocked his hip to one side. “Besides, you were right. There are still many dangers lingering, and you’ll need someone to help you navigate past them.” Throwing The Shadow a look over his shoulder, he added, “You’ll need all the help you can get keeping Pan secure and the Lost Boys in line.” Turning back to Swan, he shot her a challenging grin and a raised brow. “So what say you, love? Fancy throwing your lot in with a pirate?”
A smile tugged at her lips, her eyes cutting between her son’s hopeful pleading and the pirate’s taunting expression.
“Fine,” she dramatically exhaled. “We’ll do it your way, pirate.” She took a few sauntering steps forward and poked her finger in his waistcoat. “But don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”
Hook brought up his hand and pressed hers against his chest beneath it. “I would despair if you did.”
~/~
Some measure of time later…
“Don’t run too far ahead!” Emma called out to her son who was hurriedly making his way to the Pixie Wood. “The cottage will still be there!”
Beside her a deep chuckle rumbled through Killian’s chest. When she glanced his way it was to find him already gazing down at her. Lifting their joined hands, he brushed a soft kiss to the back of hers, sending a quiver of a wonder down her spine.
“You can’t blame the lad for being excited,” he murmured softly against her knuckles, skimming the tip of his nose along her wrist before letting their hands fall back between them. “It’s been an age since he had his own room.”
Emma mused affectionately to herself. She supposed he had a point. The Jolly Roger had become rather crowded as of late, what with many of the Lost Boys choosing to relocate there in order to learn a sea-faring trade from one of the greatest sailors in all the realms. Realms they planned to return to one day as soon as their captain deemed them ready to join another’s crew.
The more troublesome of the group, the ones dangerously loyal to Pan, who would have stopped at nothing to free him from where The Shadow had imprisoned him deep within Echo Cave, had been shipped off early on. Literally. The army of shadows had rounded them up in a matter of days, and Killian had wasted no time in taking them to a place called Pleasure Island. He hadn’t said much about the place, but Emma had been quite certain she did not want the details.
Once the Lost Boys and Pan’s imprisonment had been dealt with, she and The Shadow began the arduous task of setting things within the island’s enchantments to rights. Their first victory had been the returning of the dawn. Emma would never forget that morning, dozing in her pirate’s arms as they lazed in his bunk after a night of ‘enjoyable activities’ (as he called it) only to be roused by faint rays of sunlight prisming in through the Captain’s Quarter’s windows.
Nor would she forget the experience of being kidnapped by said pirate the very next day, taken to a secluded lagoon, and introduced to the provocative practice of skinny dipping. The image of his naked, glistening body being bathed in beams of light as he sunned himself on the grotto’s large rocks would be forever seared into her memory… and happily so.
The days had not lasted a full course at first, but with each salve of sorcery, each balm of spellwork, and every incantation towards a cure, the island began to heal more and more. Yet, with each achievement there was one restoration of the island’s power that remained beyond their conjuring.
Pixie dust.
Try as they might to get the trees where the pixie flowers grew to produce their blooms, Neverland was still without its most powerful resource. That was until Tinkerbell (a former fairy who had been banished to the island) had been able to persuade the Blue Fairy to help in their cause. A sackful of fairy dust had arrived by special delivery from another fairy named Nova, and with it, instructions on how the fairy dust might help encourage things along within the Pixie Wood.
And encourage things it did! Within a matter of days blooms began to appear on the highest branches of the trees, but the Blue Fairy had also warned how fragile and delicate the early stages of pixie flower growth was. The blooms would require constant monitoring and infusions of magic in order to survive into maturity and produce pixie dust.
Tinkerbell had offered to become the Wood’s guardian and look after the flowers, but Blue had other ideas, gifting the fairy back her wings and her wand and inviting her to join the ranks of her sisters once more. Emma would not hear of her missing out on this second chance and with Killian’s agreement, they urged her to go with their blessing.
Emma would see to the Wood.
As much as she had enjoyed spending time on the sea, she could not deny having missed the firm foundation of nature and the solace of the forest. Fortunately, her pirate was well aware of her longings and had agreed to relocate with her without a moment’s hesitation. It had taken more time than she’d expected to construct the modest cottage - her magic still functioned abnormally on the island from time to time - but now that it was complete, she, Killian, and Henry would live out the remainder of their time in Neverland within the comfort of its walls; although, Killian would return to the Jolly Roger each day to continue the necessary lessons with his prepubescent crew.
“Now the cottage is finished and the pixie flowers are growing, might we ought to discuss what happens afterward?” Killian posed as they continued to make their way through the woods.
“Afterward?”
“Aye,” he replied with a hesitancy in his tone that had Emma pausing their steps. “After you’ve successfully brought pixie dust back and finish bringing the island back to its former glory.”
“You mean… what happens when it’s time for us to leave.”
Killian did not respond, choosing instead to give her the time and space she needed to consider what he was truly asking. She really was an open book to him.
Inhaling deeply, Emma worried her lip and cast a glance towards the cottage door which had just been flung open by her exuberant son. “I suppose we’ll have to find a place that accepts pirates and witches.” Flicking her eyes back up to the man before her, she pondered, “If such a place exists.”
Wrapping his arms around her waist, a broad smile stretched across his handsome face and he crooned down at her, “I am certain there are a number of places that will welcome your gift. And as for piracy…” His expression became solemn and serious, his eyes swimming with a resolve that left her nearly breathless. “I think I have had my fill of such endeavors.”
“What?”
“I will keep my ship, of course,” he hurriedly clarified. “Perhaps we could find a quaint fishing or merchant village with a harbor suitable enough for her?”
“Are you… are you sure?” Emma could not quite believe he’d be willing to give up his life on the sea. “I would never ask you to make such a sacrifice for my sake.”
“You’re not,” he assured her, reaching up to cup her face. “And it is no sacrifice. Not when I compare it to a life spent at your side.” His thumb caressed her cheek as he bent over to brush his lips over hers. “That is, of course…” he murmured nervously with his forehead pressed against hers, “if you’ll have me?”
A shuddering breath fell from her mouth, followed by a jubilant elation of mirth. With joyous tears stinging the corners of her eyes, she swept her hand through his riotous hair and lightly held the back of his head, toying with hairline at the nape of his neck.
“Yes!” she whispered excitedly. “A thousand times, yes!”
A startled cry made its way up her throat when he tightly wrapped her in his arms then lifted her off the ground, swinging her around as an overjoyed burst of laughter rumbled through his chest. Setting her back on her feet, his lips crashed against hers and they lost themselves for several blissful moments, until Henry’s impatient shouts forced them to come up for air.
Taking Emma’s hand, Killian pierced her with a look that held heated promises for later before leading them towards the cottage. A charge of desire zipped through her, and she silently hoped that the day’s excitement would be enough to cause Henry to sleep very, very soundly that night.
“Shall we tell the lad now, or wait?”
Emma contemplated Killian’s question before deciding, “Let’s give it a day or two. Give him time to settle into the cottage before we set his sights on the next chapter.”
“As you wish.”
Arriving at the door of their new, albeit temporary, home, Emma tugged on Killian’s arm to stop him before entering. Perplexed by the action, he raised his brow and cocked his head at her.
“What is it, love?”
“I just want you to know,” she began lovingly, “No matter where our life may lead us or how we spend our days… you’ll always be the pirate captain who gave me my greatest adventure.”
Killian smiled and swept her up into his arms, carrying her over the threshold. “And you, my love,” he replied with his mouth poised to kiss her as soon as he said his piece. “Shall always be the witch in the woods who saved me.”
The End
Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)
(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)
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: Here it is! The final installment! I can't believe it is finally finished! Thank you all for coming on the journey with me, and thank you for all the patience between some of the longer updates. I hope you enjoy the conclusion of this haunting tale.
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
Part Seven
As it had been arranged the first time, candles circled the foursome as they sat with their hands clasped together, ready to call upon the spirit world. It had only taken about fifteen minutes for Killian to get things set up, but it was another ten before they were able to convince Regina to go into the cellar. Knowing that was where Daniel’s body had been discovered, buried behind a wall for decades, was almost too much for her to face. Eventually, with Robin’s support and Emma’s reassurances, they managed to get her down the steps and seated on the floor in front of the ouija board.
In an effort to bar Cora from interfering until Liam and Belle could properly force her to cross over, Killian had set up a ward against the malevolent spectre, using one of the photos from Belle’s file and special sigil marked in chalk, outlining the candles. So long as they kept the chalk circle unbroken, Cora would be powerless to enter it.
“Once we place our hands on the planchette, it is important that they remain there until the session is concluded,” Killian instructed each of them before catching Regina’s gaze. “I’ll open the doorway, but once Daniel joins us you can take over.”
He could see the lingering doubt in her expression, but had faith that the rest of their energies were enough to help Daniel manifest. Checking one last time that the ward was secure, Killian wished they could have waited until Cora was no longer a threat, but worried that any delay would have allowed Regina to talk herself out of going through with this. Besides, he and Emma had agreed it was best to keep Regina in the dark about her mother’s spirit, and how they planned to deal with it.
Placing their hands on the planchette, a collective inhale could be felt as Killian began. “Daniel? We invite you to join us. Use our energies to come forward and resolve the unfinished business keeping you here.”
Silence and stagnation surrounded them with only the soft flickering of the candles’ flames piercing the dark quiet.
“Daniel?” Killian began again. “Regina is here. She knows you did not abandon her. This is your chance to say a proper good-bye.”
Still nothing. Killian began to wonder if he’d done something wrong with the ward. The circle typically ensured the warded spirit could not enter and manipulate the board or the participants. Was it possible Cora had gained enough strength to block Daniel from entering? Perhaps they needed to boost the energy within the enclosed ward.
Killian was about to give himself over as he had the last time when the violent sound of a door slamming atop the cellar stairs shattered the calm. Everyone visibly started, their bodies twisting around to look towards the steps. Footsteps echoed against each tread, a distinct clack of a heel clipping its way along the descent. It stopped when it reached the bottom and Killian gave them a word of assurance.
“Unless that’s Daniel, they can’t interfere. No harm will come to us as long as we remain--”
A biting wind shrieked through the cellar, extinguishing the candles and plunging them into darkness. Emma and Regina both screamed and the men cursed.
“Don’t move!” Killian urged, fumbling for the flashlight he’d set down beside him before the started.
“I can’t do this!” Regina cried out fearfully.
Killian heard people get to their feet as he found the flashlight, the sound of fleeing footsteps out pacing the beam of light.
“Wait!” Emma shouted, following after Regina.
“Swan! Be careful!”
Light flooded the stairs as Regina flung the door open. Killian chased after Robin and Emma as they hurried after the frightened woman, then nearly collided with them when he exited the cellar.
“Regina?” Robin called out, clearly as unnerved as the rest of them at the way she had just stopped and was now standing calmly with her back to them. “Are you… alright?”
Slowly, the dark haired woman turned to face them, her posture and expression making the coarse hairs of Killian’s body raise in alarm.
“Regina?”
“I don’t think--”
“You will refer to my daughter as Miss Mills,” the woman instructed sternly, her eyes sweeping over Robin and her nose scrunching as though doing so were causing a foul odor to fill her sinuses. “Who do you think you are to behave so informally with her?”
“Cora,” Emma stated, shooting a wary, wide-eyed look Killian’s way.
“Cora?” Robin repeated in shock. “You mean, Regina’s mother? That Cora?”
“Aye,” Killian affirmed, cautiously making his way forward and focusing on the possessing spirit whilst positioning himself in front of Emma. “Taking control of Neal was one thing, but robbing your daughter of her agency? What sort of mother are you?”
A spurious smile stretched across Regina's painted lips. “I’ve already told you, your pretty looks will not buy my time. Do you really think I will lower myself to engage in your baiting?”
“What do you want, then?” Emma asked over his shoulder. “Why take possession of Regina?”
The woman’s cold eyes flicked to Swan’s and she stared her down with a malignant gaze. “Why, to stop you, of course.”
“Stop what? Her learning the truth? She already knows Daniel didn’t take your money and leave on his own.”
“No, no, silly girl.” Like a serpent, she slithered forward a few steps, stopping shy of the threesome’s personal space. Snapping her gaze back to Killian, she declared, “To stop you from desecrating my corpse.”
Out of the corner of his eye Killian saw both Robin and Emma balk.
“I beg your pardon?” Robin exclaimed. “Desecrate her… What is she talking about?”
Ignoring Robin’s question, Killian challenged the woman. “I don’t know what you--”
“Oh, yes. You do.” The words clipped off her tongue with barely subdued rage. “I am not stupid. I know what you’ve got planned. Your brother is out there right now with ill-intent, and you’re going to stop him.”
“And if I don’t?”
A smirk lifted the corner of her mouth and her eyes dropped down to the body she’d commandeered. “Then I guess I’ll be keeping my daughter close and making certain she lives out the remainder of her life as I see fit.”
“No!” Robin replied, advancing on the woman. “I won’t let you!”
“Robin, stop!”
Before the man could heed the warning (though, he likely would not have), Regina’s hands grabbed ahold of Robin’s upper arms and using his own momentum against him, she swung him into the nearby door jam, the impact knocking him to the ground.
“Don’t!” Killian ordered when Robin began to pick himself up off the floor. “It’s all right. She’s bluffing.”
“Am I?”
“Aye,” Killian replied confidently. “You and I both know you haven’t the strength to maintain this level of control indefinitely.”
“And I refuse to believe you are so heartless that you’d deprive your own daughter of the life she has left.”
Killian stiffened as Emma stepped around him to continue confronting the woman. He did not want Swan to put herself in danger, but knew they needed to buy Liam as much time as possible.
“I only want what is best for her. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“What about what she wants?” Emma countered. “She loved Daniel. She might even love Robin. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“My dear,” the woman condescendingly drawled. “Love is weakness. And as for being heartless…”
A ghostly arm shot out from Regina's shoulder and disappeared into Emma’s chest.
“No!” Killian cried out, momentarily frozen in shock and fear as he watched Swan’s body contort, shoulders caving inward, her breath stuck in her throat.
When he finally managed to move, Regina’s head snapped towards him. “Not another step, lover boy, or I’ll stop her heart before you can cross the hallway.”
“Let her go.” Killian put his hands out and planted his feet firmly. Robin shifted from where he was still positioned on the floor, forcing Killian to give him a pleading look and shake of his head to stop whatever he was planning.
How could he have allowed himself to become so distracted by calculations of how much longer Liam would need as to not notice how close the malevolent woman had gotten to his Swan. “Please,” he begged. “Let her go.”
“Not until you call your brother off,” she said, tightening her grip around Emma’s heart and causing a pained whimper to fall from Swan’s lips.
“Fine,” Killian conceded, pulling his phone from his pocket. “You win.”
“No,” Emma choked out, the agony in her voice making Killian’s stomach roll and his own heart drop. “Let him finish. He and Belle have to be close to--”
“What do you think will happen to you and Regina if they vanquish me whilst I am in possession of her body and your heart?”
Emma shifted her gaze towards Killian, clearly hoping he would refute the woman’s claim. He couldn’t, though. Honestly, he had no clue what would happen, but was not about to take any chances.
Speed dialing his brother, he muttered under his breath for Liam to answer.
“Killian?” his brother’s confused voice answered.
“Liam, listen to me very carefully,” Killian began firmly with a note of urgency. “I need you and Belle to stop. Don’t do anything to Cora’s remains.” The line went silent and Killian pulled it from his ear to make sure the call was still connected. Turning the speaker feature on, he said, “Are you there, brother?”
“Nevermind that,” Killian said, curtly. “I just need you to stop what you’re doing and get back here.”
“You know I can’t do that, little brother. Cora must be dealt with.”
“Dammit, Liam. I need you to listen to me. She’s taken possession of Regina and is threatening to crush Emma’s heart if you don’t--”
“Bloody hell,” Liam muttered over the line. “How did she--”
“What difference does it make!” Sometimes his brother could be the most infuriating arse. Exasperated, Killian told Liam once more, “You can’t salt and burn the body. Not without risking Regina and Emma’s safety.”
“How do you know she won’t--”
A scuffling sound echoed over the phone, his brother’s muffled voice saying something Killian could not make out.
“Killian?” Belle’s voice anxiously rang out. “We’re headed back to the car now.”
Lights flickering from the living room doorway grabbed Killian’s attention and for a brief second he could make out the silhouette of a man attempting to manifest behind Regina.
Daniel. It had to be.
“Thank you, Belle,” Killian replied, trying to keep his expression and voice even so he did not tip Cora off. “Let me talk to Liam again.”
“I’m here, brother. I’m sorry I didn’t heed your--”
“Yeah. You can be a real dinghy sometimes, you know that?”
“Aye,” Liam replied with a timbre of surprise that he quickly suppressed. “Just like dad, I’m afraid.”
Killian let out an involuntary sigh of relief and hoped the woman, staring intently at him, would chalk it up to him being glad to have finally gotten his brother to relent.
“We’ll see you soon,” Liam said, ending the call.
Stowing his phone back into his pocket, Killian’s gaze shifted to where he could make out a ripple in the air out of the corner of his eye before focusing on the arm still buried in Emma’s chest.
“Hang in there, Swan,” he encouraged, unable to bring himself to look at her face. He did not trust himself to not do something impulsive at the sight of torment or anguish on her gentle features. “It’ll all be over soon.”
“Indeed,” Regina’s voice uttered, and though he barely knew the woman, Killian knew the false syrupy-sweet inflection sounded completely wrong coming from those lips. “It will be over soon, but not the way you think it will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Robin inquired, slowly getting to his feet with his hands raised in supplication. A brief, flickering glance, first at Killian, then towards the area the ripple had occurred, alerted him to the fact that Robin was aware of the other presence as well. “You said you’d let them go if Killian stopped Liam.”
“And I will,” the woman vowed. “But not without some assurances first.”
“What assurances?”
“That you won’t simply dispose of me later.”
“How do you plan to ensure we don’t?”
“Why…” An amused breath punctuated the pause before she confessed, “By having Robin here wall you all up like I had my husband do to Daniel.”
“You must be mad if you think I would--”
“But you are mad, aren’t you?” she simpered. “Madly in love with my daughter? Willing to do whatever is necessary to protect her?”
“The only way to protect Regina is to free her from you. That much is clear to me now.” Robin straightened his posture and braced his stance, squaring off with the woman he loved even as he vowed to do everything within his power to keep her from further harm.
Scoffing, the woman rolled her eyes. “Daniel said the same thing to me once. He failed and so will you. Besides…” a grimace of pain pinched Regina’s features and for a moment the possessed woman came forward.
“Mother,” she cried out in anguish. “Please… stop.”
As quickly as she’d relented it, Cora took control once more. “I can make this agony for her, unless you do as I say.”
Killian allowed the woman to continue monologuing at Robin, keeping his attention on Emma and her safety. It was taking every ounce of restraint he could muster to remain level-headed and not let his rage or terror get the better of him. All he could do was trust that Daniel - like Robin, like himself - was doing all he could to save the woman he loved.
“Come on, mate,” he muttered under his breath. “What are you waiting for?”
“You won’t… get away with… this,” Emma strained out.
“Aye, Swan’s right,” Killian added. “Do you honestly think no one will notice we’ve disappeared and that there is a newly constructed wall where the old one was? I think that’s something even Neal would clue in on.”
“Oh, my dear boy. Didn’t you know? Neal’s gone.”
Blanching, Killian whipped his head to the side and caught Emma’s guilt-filled eye. “What? Is that true, love?”
Disgusted, Cora’s hand tightened within Emma’s chest, forcing Swan’s gaze to break away and fall back to the floor as a sob audibly caught in the back of her throat.
“Stop!” Killian demanded. “Is this really how you want your daughter to remember you? Is this truly what you want your legacy to be?”
“Don’t you dare speak to me of legacy,” the vengeful woman spat. “My legacy was secure, my memory safe with Regina until this little trollop undercovered my secret. If not for her--”
The lights around them dimmed and the atmosphere began to crackle. A flash of trepidation crossed Regina’s face, but it was quickly replaced by Cora’s smug countenance.
“We both know you lack the conviction to do what you must in order to best me.”
It took Killian a moment to realize she wasn’t speaking to any of them, that she was addressing Daniel and had obviously been aware of him this entire time.
“You are weak. You’ve always been weak.”
Stepping forward, Killian silenced her vitriolic tirade. “Don’t listen to her, Daniel! Love is stronger than any force on this earth. Do what you must to save the women we love.”
The startled expression resonating from Regina’s face made something in Killian’s mind click. He knew what Daniel needed.
“I would gladly risk my life for two things: love and revenge.” Spreading his arms out wide, he offered, “Take all that you need, Daniel.”
“Killian, no!” Emma wailed, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Don’t do this!”
The spectre faintly began to form in front of him. Daniel’s soft eyes locked on to his, waiting for confirmation which he gave with a resolved nod before bracing himself as best he could. Daniel’s ghostly arm thrust forward, the intrusion into Killian’s chest unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life. Each beat of his heart strengthened Daniel, allowing him to fully manifest.
“No. Stop!” Cora protested from Regina’s lips. “Stop or I’ll--”
Her words were cut off when Daniel grabbed Cora’s ghostly wrist with his other hand. With a firm pull he tore the spirit free from Regina, who teetered on her heels before losing consciousness and falling towards the floor.
“Regina!” Robin lunged forward and mercifully caught her, lowering her carefully to the ground.
With his hand still wrapped around Killian’s heart, Daniel tightened his grip on Cora’s wrist, her hand still precariously wrapped around Emma’s heart which made Killian’s clench without any additional pressure from Daniel.
“That doesn’t belong to you,” Daniel stated, putting a greater squeeze on the woman’s wrist until she finally let go of Emma’s heart with a pained yelp.
Thankfully, Daniel released Killian in time for him to catch Emma, cradling her in his arms as they both collapsed to the floor. Once safely out of harm’s way, he dug out his phone and dialed Liam.
“Brother?”
“Now, Liam!”
A roar filled the hallway, flames bursting out from where Cora’s ghost stood. Her shriek pierced Killian’s ears and he quickly pressed his hands over Emma’s, hoping to shield her from the horror. Burying her face into his chest, Swan’s grip tightened, balling his shirt into her fists. When the heat of the ghostly fire subsided, they both looked at one another, their chests heaving from adrenaline as they fought to catch their breaths.
“Are you all right, love?” Killian asked on an exhale, wetting his lips in a vain attempt to bring moisture back to his mouth.
“I-I think so,” she answered, breathlessly.
Her eyes dipped to his lips then flicked back up, staring at him through her lashes. They held each other’s gaze for several erratic beats of Killian’s heart before slowly moving in closer. Eyes fluttering shut, Emma’s mouth was about to meet his when a soft gasp broke the moment and stole both their attention.
“Daniel?” Regina, having regained consciousness, sat up and stared teary-eyed at the ghost of her long lost love. “Is that… Is it really you?”
Robin helped her to her feet, steadying her as she approached Daniel’s spectral form. Not wishing to be any more intrusive than they already were, Killian and Emma remained seated on the floor of the hallway. With his Swan wrapped willingly in his arms, Killian held his breath at the beauty and heartbreak of this long overdue moment.
“Regina,” Daniel whispered. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I never… I never would have left you willingly and I… I’m sorry you had to find out the truth like that. I never wanted you to find out about your mother this way.”
“Oh, Daniel,” Regina replied, tearily. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who owes you an apology. I’m sorry I doubted you. That I doubted our love. I should have known better. I should have never taken my mother’s word over--”
“I don’t blame you for doubting,” he said. “I don’t think either of us ever considered she’d go to the lengths she did to keep us apart.”
Though it was evident he wanted to spare her the details, Regina would not be deterred, insisting he tell her the full truth of what had happened. Cora had tried to buy him off, that much was true. She’d handed him a check; the amount wasn’t important, no amount she could ever offer would have been enough, and he had told her as much. Ripping up the check, he’d tossed the pieces at her feet before turning to head down into the cellar. The next thing he knew he was lying at the bottom of the stairs, his neck broken, and his life quickly slipping away.
“My last thoughts were of you, Regina. I need you to know that. I need you to know that I have never stopped loving you.”
“Daniel, I…” Regina’s chest shuddered from a suppressed sob, tears spilling over her lashes and streaking her mascara down her cheeks.
“I haven’t been able to move on, knowing what you must have thought. I couldn’t be at peace until you knew the truth.”
“I love you, too, Daniel,” she whispered. “I hope you can find peace now. You deserve it.”
“There’s only one thing more keeping me here,” he said. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
Reaching out as though he were cupping her cheek, Daniel leaned in, bringing his forehead close to hers. “I need you to open yourself up to love again, Regina. You deserve love. You are loved.” Pulling back, Daniel turned his face towards Robin and smiled at the man. “Isn’t she?”
“Aye,” Robin affirmed, gazingly lovingly at the woman beside him. “That she is.”
“Embrace it, Regina,” Daniel urged. “Embrace love. Embrace happiness. It isn’t too late for you to have the life I wanted for you. Promise me you’ll open your heart and love again.”
Pursing her lips together in order to keep some semblance of composure, Regina reached over and took Robin’s hand. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet his, smiled, and said, “I promise.”
Robin beamed and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her tight in his embrace. Allowing them a moment, and probably a bit conflicted with seeing the woman he loved with another man, Daniel made his way over to Killian and Emma and stood over them.
“Thank you, Emma,” he said. “And you, Killian. If not for the two of you and Liam and all the others who helped, this never would have been possible.”
“Don’t mention it, mate,” Killian replied, wishing he could shake the man’s hand.
“I’m so happy it all worked out,” Emma said. “I’m just so sorry your life was cut short. It’s not fair.”
Daniel shrugged. “Life is like that sometimes. Which is why it is important to not squander it; take hold of every moment and cherish it. Remember that, won’t you?”
“Aye. We will.”
A content and fulfilled look rested upon Daniel’s face and he closed his eyes. “I can go now.”
“Daniel,” Regina called out, clearly not ready to say good-bye.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’ll always be with you in some way.” With one last glance at Robin, he said, “Take care of our girl.”
“I will, mate. I promise.”
A soft glow began to envelop Daniel, his eyes locked with Regina’s until it became too bright for her to hold his gaze.
“I love you, Regina,” he said, his voice faint as the glow started to dim.
“Good-bye, Daniel,” Regina replied as the light fully extinguished, taking Daniel’s spirit with it.
Regina collapsed into Robin’s arms and sobbed. Tears rolled down Emma’s face and Killian had to wipe away his own as they watched Robin rock the woman he loved in his arms. When she had finally exhausted her tears, Regina turned and apologized. Killian assisted Emma off the floor and the four of them stood there in the hallway awkwardly.
Scratching behind his ear, Killian opened his mouth, still unsure of what to say, when the front door burst open. In rushed Liam and Belle, soot covered and bedraggled.
“Is everyone all right?” Liam inquired, out of breath. “What did we miss?”
~/~
Killian laid awake on the pull-out, staring up at the ceiling as he replayed the events of the evening in his mind. Every fear and nightmare fueled terror had coursed through him the entire time Cora had held Emma’s heart in her grasp. How he’d managed to keep his wits about him with the image of her heart being stopped by that ghostly hand plaguing him from all sides of his dark imaginings, he’d never know. It had taken a Herculean effort to relinquish her from his arms after Liam and Belle had arrived and they’d all adjourned to the living room.
The next few hours had been torture for him as he sat on the other side of the room from her, still shaken by what could have happened, still not convinced she had come out of the deadly encounter unscathed. He did his best to hide it, though, giving his account of things and answering questions as they all got up to speed on what had happened. When the conversation turned to Regina sharing memories of Daniel and her time spent at the carriage house in her youth, Killian stole too many glances at his Swan to count, but enough to have gained the attention of Robin who surmised they were close to overstaying their welcome.
After bidding the couple farewell with promises to keep in touch, Liam had pulled him aside to discuss what was next for the Jones brothers, allowing Emma to quickly say goodnight and escape to her room. Killian had snapped at his brother, questioning him as to why the topic could not wait until morning, only to have his brother inform him that he would not be there in the morning.
He would be staying the night with Miss French.
Killian had almost punched the shit-eating grin off his brother’s face.
He should have punched the shit-eating grin off his brother’s face.
He also should have gone up to check on Emma after Liam and Belle had left, but decided instead to give her some space. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.
It was the cowardly thing to do. He was being a coward, and he knew it. A coward, and a fool, and a complete and hopeless--
The creak of the stairs drew him from his self-depracating thoughts and he sat up. Hearing a cabinet door open and close from the kitchen, he tossed back the covers and reached for his sweat pants, pulling them on as he made his way to the door. Peering out across the corridor, he could make out Emma leaning against the counter as she sipped from a glass of water. Not wishing to startle her, he yawned loudly and let his feet fall heavy on the wood floors as he approached the kitchen.
“Trouble sleeping?” he asked, running a hand through his hair as though he were trying to tame his bedhead.
“Sorry if I woke you,” she said, cupping the glass in her hands, her eyes trained on its rim.
“You didn’t.” Reaching out, he took the glass from her and set it on the counter. “Out with it, love. I can tell something is bothering you.”
Whipping her head up, she looked at him askew. “How? How could you possibly know something’s--”
“I’ve told you before,” he reminded, cutting her off and enjoying how it irritated her. “You’re an open book.”
A scoff huffed from her chest and she rolled her eyes at him. “Well, if you must know…” she began, scuffing the floor with her foot as she quietly muttered, “It’s too quiet.”
“Come again?”
“It’s too quiet,” she repeated, louder and a bit exasperated. “I know it’s ridiculous that it bothers me, but the house is too quiet. Too still. I never noticed before, but I think I’d grown accustomed to having…”
“Another presence in the house?” he offered, finishing her thought for her.
“Yeah. I guess.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave a small shrug and confessed, “I kind of miss Daniel.”
“I don’t think that’s ridiculous at all,” he told her as he leaned against the counter across from her. “His energy was here for a long time. Makes sense that its absence would be felt.”
“I suppose so.” Letting out a deep exhale, she uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on the edge of the counter, next to her hips. When his gaze lifted from lingering on her exposed hip bone, he was met with a knowing smirk and a suspect look. “So, what’s got you up this late?”
It was Killian’s turn to shrug and avoid making eye contact. “Just some thoughts that won’t let me be.”
“Such as?”
Peeking up at her, he found the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him all night. “Is it true that Neal’s gone?”
Another long exhale preceded her answer. “Yes. He’s gone.”
“When? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“We had it out after the whole possession thing,” she told him. “He gave me an ultimatum and I told him to get out.” She shifted her weight and pushed her hair behind her shoulder, taking a beat before admitting, “I’ve known for a long time that things needed to end with him, I just… I guess I felt too embarrassed to say anything. Besides… it wasn’t like we didn’t have enough going on.”
“True,” Killian agreed with a note of humor. “I am sorry you felt as though you couldn’t confide in me. And for what it’s worth, I…”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish the platitude. He wasn’t the least bit sorry that Neal was no longer in the picture, and they both knew it.
“Are you all right?”
“I am,” she assured him. “Like I said, it was long past time.”
Killian wanted to press her for more, to ask what this might mean for them. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t conflicted about what came next, and therefore waited for her to take the lead.
“So, Liam is shacking up with Belle,” she said after a prolonged bout of silence. Seemingly testing the waters for different discussion altogether, she asked, “Does that mean you guys will be stopping into town on a regular basis?”
“Actually,” Killian replied, wading out into said waters, “Liam suggested we stick around for a while. It seems Miss French has a number of potential cases my brother thinks we should look into.”
Her teeth had been worrying her lip since she finished asking her previous question, and only relinquished their hold so she could inquire, “And what did you tell him?”
He wished she had met him halfway into the depths. “I told him I wasn’t sure.” When her face fell he quickly moved off the counter and took her hands in his. “Don’t misunderstand me, love. There’s nothing I want more than to stay here… with you.” Reaching up, he cupped her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I just want to do this right. I don’t want to finally have my second chance and then end up being the rebound g--”
The urgent press of her lips against his cut off his words, and he’d never been so thrilled to be interrupted in all his life.
He’d only just begun to respond when she pulled away, but only far enough so she could tell him, “Neal was the rebound guy. You are the guy, Killian.”
His mouth crashed against hers and with very little prodding on his part, she climbed up to sit atop the counter. Prompting her knees to open for him, he moved into the space between her thighs and slipped a hand up her back beneath her (his) shirt. He groaned at the feel of her soft, warm skin as their lips continued to slant and slide against the others, their tongues tangled together, and their teeth teased and taunted with playful nips along jawlines and earlobes.
Coming up for air, foreheads pressed together, the two tried to catch their breath while trading soft smiles and doey-eyed looks with one another.
“You know how I said that without the ghosts the house is a little too quiet for my liking?”
“Aye,” Killian panted. “What do you suggest we do about that?”
“Well…” Emma drawled, applying a sultry timbre to her tone as she slid her arms around his neck. “I was thinking you could join me upstairs so we could make things go bump in the night.”
Killian chuckled and leaned in to kiss her again. “I thought you’d never ask.” he murmured against her lips, promising, “I’ll have you moaning louder than any spirit ever could.”
“And I’ll have you--” she said between kisses. “--thinking you’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Too late for that, I’m afraid,” he confessed into the pulse point below her ear, moaning at the way it made her shudder in his arms. “After this, I’ll be harder to get rid of than any haunting.”
“Good.” Emma gave him a quick shove and hopped off the counter. Grabbing his hand, she led him out of the kitchen and cheekily added over her shoulder, “That’s the kind of being ghosted I can live with.”
With a wide smile, Killian eagerly followed his Swan up to her bedroom where the two of them enthusiastically expressed their passion for one another, loud enough to wake the… well, you know.
The End
Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)
(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)
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.”
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.”
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: So... good news and bad news. Bad news: this isn't the final part. Good news: the entire fic is finished, so you won't have to wait as long between updates!
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
The road stretched on endlessly, the journey home feeling as though it took twice as long as it had going to see Regina Mills. Deafening silence was punctuated by each mile marker, and Emma was excruciatingly aware of every breath, every glance, every minute movement Killian made.
A thick tension surrounded them both, and neither of them wished to burst the fragile bubble that had formed from their confessions. A silent purpose which left Emma with only her thoughts. Thoughts of Daniel, unable to move on. Thoughts of Regina, betrayed and lied to all these years.
Then there were the other thoughts; the ones she tried to push away, unwilling to give them any attention until the whole ghost ordeal was over. In an effort to heed them off, Emma attempted to focus her mind on less complicated matters. Mentally, she went over to-do lists. Outstanding deadlines for work. Gatherings to plan for the upcoming holidays. The punch list of final tasks for the restoration. The best way to break things off with Neal.
Emma was caught off guard by that final thought. So much so, she was surprised Killian had not inquired what was wrong with the way she’d physically reacted to the random notion.
Was it really random, though?
It’s not as if she hadn’t been considering ending things with Neal for several weeks now, ever since he’d moved himself into the carriage house. They had never even had a conversation about it. One day it had simply dawned on her that all of his stuff was there and that they were living together. Of course, that was sort of how their relationship had started.
In an effort to pull her out of her heartache, her friends had insisted she attend every dinner, event, activity, and group outing they’d overplanned. She’d only met Neal a couple of times before that; he was August’s friend from high school (which should have been a red flag, even if she did consider August a friend) and had moved into the area a few months before their gang had graduated college. With each ‘group-thing’, fewer of her friends attended, until eventually, on a night when she’d gone to the local bar after work for a meet-up, she found herself sitting there with only Neal for company.
Emma knew her friends weren’t the biggest fans of their relationship, but Neal had been there to fill the void none of the rest of them could. It wasn’t until after she’d finally started coming out of the fog that she realized he couldn’t fill it either. No one could.
Save for the man seated beside her.
Enduring the excruciating quiet in his own way as they hit the town line.
Passing by the library, Killian hesitantly broke the silence. “How do you think my brother and Belle got on?”
“How? Or Where?” Eyes widening and cheeks pinking, Emma hadn’t intended for the dirty innuendo to slip out.
Killian didn’t miss a beat. After a full-chested laugh he waggled his brows at her, quipping, “Indeed. I imagine they left the circulation desk, the conference table, and various stacks scandalized.”
“Are you suggesting my friend is a tramp?” Emma challenged in an amused and mock-affronted tone.
“I would never dream of besmirching Miss French’s good name,” Killian replied. “The only harlot in this scenario is my brother. Don’t let the self-righteousness fool you, love.”
Another laugh was not the only thing they shared as Killian pulled up to her house. Soft smiles and a gaze that spoke volumes passed between them. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Emma wet her lips and inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her racing heart. The way Killian’s eyes fell to her mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing in response to her tongue’s action was not helping matters.
“We should, um…”
“Aye. We ought to…”
Awkwardly, they exited the car and headed inside.
“I’ll tell Liam of our meeting with Regina and get an update from him if you’d like to check-in with Neal and--”
“Killian? Emma?” Liam’s voice called out from upstairs. “You better get up here.”
Sharing a brief, worried glance, they swiftly headed up the stairs, the urgency in Liam’s tone adding haste to their steps.
Emma expected to find him in the guest room, and was therefore surprised to see him hovering at her bedroom’s doorway.
“What is it, brother?” Killian inquired from behind her.
Peering around the elder Jones, Emma’s brows scrunched tightly together. “Neal? What’s going--”
“That isn’t Neal.”
The quiet warning underpinning his words caused the hairs at the back of her neck to raise. Killian rushed forward to stand next to his brother, partially blocking her from the room.
Peering over the brothers’ shoulders, she looked at the man standing calmly in the middle of her bedroom and asked, “What do you mean that isn’t Neal?”
Murmuring under his breath, Liam answered, “He’s possessed by a spirit. I’m just not sure which spirit.”
“Emma, did you see Regina? Did you speak with her?” Neal - or rather, Not Neal - took a step forward with an air of desperation; an action that had the Jones brothers even more guarded than before.
“I, uh…”
“Please,” he said, keeping his focus on Emma. “I know I shouldn’t have, but taking over your boyfriend’s body was the easiest way for us to communicate. I need to know if you saw her. What did she say?”
“Are we to assume you are Daniel?” Killian inquired, inching into the room while still barring Emma from entering.
“Of course I’m Daniel,” Not Neal replied, urgently. “But we don’t have much time. I don’t know how much longer I can keep hold.”
“Why are you only now using this tactic?” Liam also stepped into the room, positioning himself a few feet to Killian’s left. “You haven’t used possession before.”
“I didn’t know I could,” Not Neal answered. “And even if I had, I don’t think I would have been strong enough before.”
“So, what’s changed?” Killian asked, his arm slightly extended from his body in an effort to signal her to stay behind him when she crossed the threshold into the room.
“Hope,” Not Neal exhaled. “Ever since you found those letters and understood what I needed you to do, hope began to strengthen me.”
“And you discovered you could possess the living how?”
Not Neal waved off Liam’s question and turned his attention towards Emma once more. “There’s no time for me to explain. I need to know about Regina. Please, tell me what happened before the other one can interfere and overpower me again.”
“Who is the other spirit? Who is keeping you subdued?”
“I don’t want to talk about her.” Agitation and impatience slipped through the genial facade and with an edge of menace, Not Neal demanded, “Tell me what you told Regina and what she said.”
Killian shifted his posture and shot a knowing glance at his brother before stating, “You’re not Daniel. Who are you?”
“I am Daniel!” the spirit protested, moving to close the gap between them all. “Emma, you have to believe me. You’re the only one who--”
Both brothers countered Not Neal’s approach, shielding her from the spirit’s advance.
“You don’t speak to her.” Killian’s lowered tone and threatening timbre had the fine hairs of Emma’s body raising in an altogether different way than it had been. “I’m the one you’re going to deal with. Tell me who you are.”
Not Neal’s entire demeanor changed. Instead of a gentle and friendly expression, Neal’s face turned smug and bitter.
“Think you’re clever, don’t you?”
“Cleverer than most, though frequently underestimated.”
Not Neal scoffed and rolled his eyes, defiance and arrogance oozing from every inch of his body.
“We can stand here all day if you like, but you will answer our questions.”
A derisive hum vibrated against Neal’s lip and his form sauntered forward until it was toe-to-toe with Killian. “I’m sure your pretty face usually buys you a lot, but not my time.” Neal’s eyes shifted and met Emma’s, sending a cold chill down her spine. “You should have left well enough alone.”
Before any of them could respond, Neal’s eyes rolled back into his head and his body dropped towards the floor. Mercifully, Liam and Killian were able to catch him and lower him safely to the carpet.
“Neal!” Emma pushed past the brothers and knelt at his side, shaking his shoulders. “Neal, wake up!”
“Here,” Liam said, passing something to her. “Smelling salts. Should do the trick.”
Emma uncorked the small bottle and wafted it under Neal’s nose. The effect was almost instantaneous. With a wild jolt, Neal’s eyes shot open and he attempted to sit up.
“Woah, there mate,” Killian advised, placing a hand against his shoulder to keep him from getting up too fast. “Take it slow.”
“Wh-What the hell happ--”
“The unknown spirit possessed you, I’m afraid,” Liam said, sympathetically. “I know everything feels wrong and distorted, but I assure you, it’ll pass quickly.”
“Wrong is an understatement,” Neal muttered, shaking himself.
“Are you okay?” Emma asked. “Did they hurt you in any--”
“She,” Neal corrected. “It was definitely a she.”
With assistance from the brothers, Neal was hauled up to his feet. Emma reached out to help steady him as he swayed, annoyed at Liam’s immediate interrogation once Neal was settled on the edge of the bed.
“Were you able to identify her? Sometimes those possessed can gain knowledge of the possessing spirit. Any idea why she possessed you, or how she knew she could? Anything you can tell us could be helpful.”
“Liam,” Killian admonished. “Give the man a moment to collect himself.” Crouching down in front of Neal, Killian looked up at him with a sympathetic expression and asked, “Can I get you anything, mate? Water? Maybe something a bit stronger?”
His eyes cut over to Emma and despite her concern for the man seated beside her who was still clearly shaken, she let out an amused huff and attempted to stifle the smile Killian’s words engendered. The truth was, they all could probably do with a stiff drink right about now.
“I uh…” Neal’s utterances turned their attention back his way. Swiping a hand down his pale and clammy face, he said, “I don’t know how she knew she could, or even how it happened really, I just… all of a sudden I wasn’t in control of myself.”
Neal’s hand dug into the mattress, balling up the covers in his fist. Placing a comforting hand on his knee, Emma encouraged him to take his time then glanced at the Jones brothers. “Maybe we should give him time to rest a bit before forcing him to reliv--”
“No, it’s fine,” Neal countered with a slight bite in his tone. “There isn’t much I can tell you anyway… other than her identity.”
Taking his eyes off the floor for the first time since they’d helped him off of it, Neal met each of their expectant stares before locking his with Emma’s. “Cora. The other spirit is Cora Mills.”
“You’re certain?”
Even Killian rolled his eyes at his brother’s asinine question.
“What kind of question is that?” Neal spat. “Am I sure? You think that’s the kind of thing I wouldn’t be--”
“Apologies,” Liam offered with his hands raised in supplication. “It’s just… spirits can be tricky and we have to be sure the other spirit doesn’t want you to think it’s--”
“If he says it’s Cora, then it’s Cora,” Killian interrupted. Standing, he reached out and took Liam by the shoulder, guiding him towards the door. “Which means you and I have work to do. Let’s leave Neal and Emma be while we come up with our plan of attack.”
“Of course,” Liam acquiesced, a bit reluctantly. “I am eager to hear how things went with--”
“Aye, but it may be best to have that conversation outside.” Glancing around them, he reminded, “You never know who might be listening.” Before the two departed down the stairs, Killian called out over his shoulder, “We’ll be downstairs if either of you need anything.”
“Thanks,” Emma answered at the doorway, having followed them towards the door so she could close it, allowing her and Neal some privacy. With her back now pressed against it, she took in the pitiful sight of her boyfriend. She knew she ought to feel more in this moment. More concerned. More sorry. More upset. But…
It wasn’t that she didn’t feel those things, she simply wished she wasn’t the one expected to help him through it. If given the option, she’d much rather be downstairs discussing the day’s events and coming up with their next step.
She was a terrible person.
With a heavy exhale, Emma pushed away from the door and approached Neal with soft steps. “Neal, are you sure you’re ok--”
“No, I’m not okay!” he exploded, shooting up to his feet. “How could you even think I’d be okay after something like that?”
“You’re right,” she said, sheepishly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Stupid question. Sorry.”
Neal ran a hand down his face then let it fall dramatically down to his side with an equally significant sigh. “I think it’s time to cut our losses.”
Brows furrowing and head cocking to one side, Emma replied, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, fuck this!” Neal exploded once more, frantically gesturing around them. “Fuck all of this! Let’s get out of here. Pack up our stuff and leave this place behind.”
“Pack up and go where?”
“Anywhere! Anywhere but here. Anywhere but this house and this town.”
“Neal…” she began with a weighty pause. “You know I can’t do that. This is my home. Not just this house, but this whole place. This is where my friends are. Where my family is.”
Neal scowled and let out a derisive scoff. “Yeah, friends that think I’m a loser and family that thinks I’m not good enough for you.”
Unable to hold back the huff of amusement, Emma reminded him, “Yeah, well. David thinks that about everybod--”
“God dammit, Emma! How can you be so flippant? How can you want to stay? How can you even think of spending one more second in this house?”
“Because. It’s. My. Home, Neal.” She knew he’d been through a lot, but surely the man who had been brought up like her, bouncing from one foster home to the next until finally making a life for themselves on the streets would never think to ask that question. “You, of all people, should understand what that means to me.” Nibbling a piece of skin peeling from her lip, she added, “Besides, I can’t abandon Daniel. He--”
“He’s dead!” Neal shouted, now getting in her face as if an up close look at his anger would change her mind. “Dead, Emma. You don’t owe him a goddamn thing!”
“Well, what about Liam and Killian?” Neal’s expression hardened at the mention of the Jones brothers' names. “They came all this way to help us. Am I just supposed to send them packing in the middle of the job?”
“Some job,” Neal sneered. “Things have only gotten worse since they got here, but I get why that doesn’t seem to bother you any.”
Emma crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, Emma. I know there’s something going on between you and Captain Guyliner.”
“Neal,” she said in a firm tone. She may be a lot of things, but a cheater wasn’t one of them. “There’s nothing going on between me and Killian.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he replied as he took a few steps back, his tone indicating he didn’t really believe her. “But you haven’t been completely honest about him. Admit it.”
“I told you we had a past. I never hid that from you.”
“Past. Right,” he clipped. “Then why does the guy use a half-naked picture of you as a bookmark?”
Emma blanched and dropped her arms. “Wh…What are you talking about?”
Approaching her again, he held her gaze as he relayed, “I’m talking about a picture of you, half-naked, wedged between the pages of some other guy’s journal.”
“When did you…?” Confusion turned to indignation. “Did you go snooping through Killian’s things?”
“Oh, no,” Neal said, waving his finger at her. “You don’t get to turn this around on me. Tell me why he has a picture of you, half-naked--”
“In a bikini,” Emma clarified, hotly. “I’m in a bikini in that photo, because I was on spring break.”
“So you admit to sending it to him,” Neal replied with an almost gloating undertone, as though he’d caught her in an ‘I gotcha’ moment.
“Of course, I sent it to him. We were in a relationship at the time.”
“Oh, and I guess you think it’s no big deal that he keeps it as a bookmark in that freaky journal of his?”
Emma could not believe they were having this conversation. With everything else going on, this… THIS? This was the thing he was willing to wage war over?
“Neal, I don’t have time for your petty jealousy right now. If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you.”
He’d clearly not been expecting that. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am,” she affirmed with a vigorous nod. “You made your feelings about staying here very clear, and to be honest… I’ve thought it best for us to end things and for you to move out for some time now.”
Neal’s expression darkened and his jaw tightened. “Let me guess. About the same time you reached out to your old flame?”
“Before that, actually,” Emma stated, matter-of-factly. “But I don’t expect you to believe it.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re moving out.”
“I guess so,” he challenged, probably expecting her to take it all back if it seemed he really might leave.
“You can pack a bag for now then come back for the rest of your things later. I’ll have it all boxed up for you.”
He swallowed tightly, still hoping he was just calling her bluff and said, “No need. I’ll pack it all and be out of here tonight.”
“Great,” she said, holding out her hand, “Then I’ll just take your key and give you some space to do that.”
He stared at her for several moments, his eyes shifting between her face and her hand, until finally it seemed to click; she was serious. She really wanted him out. Out of her house and out of her life.
“Fine,” he growled, stomping over to the dresser where he kept his personal items and prying the house key off the ring. Slapping it into her palm, he said, “Just do me one favor.”
She closed her stinging hand around the sharp metal of the key. “What’s that?”
“Try not to fuck him the minute I leave.”
Emma rolled her eyes and made her way to the door. “Grow up, Neal.” Crossing the threshold, she grabbed the handle and couldn’t resist leaving without throwing out a final barb. “It’ll take more than a minute to strip the bed and put on fresh sheets.”
Slamming the door behind her, Emma stood seething for several moments before mortification set in. The ringing of anger within her ears had subsided, replaced by the deep timbre of the brothers’ voices as they conversed with one another downstairs.
Had they heard everything? She and Neal hadn’t exactly kept their voices down. Hopefully, they’d been outside discussing what each had learned from their morning’s inquiries for the majority of the break up. As assured and confident as she was that ending things with Neal was the right decision, it was still humiliating.
Although, no less humiliating than Neal’s behaviour the entire time Liam and Killian had been there.
She really could not believe she’d let the relationship go on for as long as it had.
One thing was for sure, Ruby would be insufferable over the news. The I told you so’s would probably never end… but neither would the celebratory drinks she’d insist on buying, so Emma guessed that would help balance things out.
Making her way downstairs, Emma found the brothers seated at the dining table hunched over a map. Hearing her approaching steps, the two glanced up. Liam gave her an acknowledging nod, then turned his eyes back down while Killian kept his gaze trained on her. The way he looked at her had always made her toes curl and her breath shaky in the best way. In an effort to mask her breathlessness and erratic heart rate, Emma tossed her hair over her shoulder and planted her hands against the table.
“So… catch me up.”
“Is Neal alright?” Liam asked with a note of concern.
“Um, yeah. He’s just…” Emma gestured vaguely in the direction of her room, not wanting to lie, but not quite ready to confess the truth.
“Probably best he rests,” Killian interjected, drawing his own conclusions to Emma’s response. “Possession isn’t something I’d wish on anyone.” Leaning back he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a chain with some sort of symbol as a pendant. “In fact, I think it best you wear this until we get Cora sorted.”
Reaching across the table, Emma took the necklace from him, her skin pebbling in response to the way their fingers brushed against each other’s.
“What is it?” she asked with her attention trained on the swinging pendant, hoping he hadn’t noticed the goose bumps.
“It’s an anti-possession sigil,” he explained. “Also known as a demon trap. It’ll keep Cora, or any spirit or being, from being able to take you over.” Flicking a more significant look her way, he added, “It’ll keep you safe.”
“Don’t you… What about you? Don’t you need it? For protection?”
Killian gave her a soft smirk and cut his eyes towards his brother. Pulling open the collar of his shirt, he said, “We’ve got that covered.”
Beneath the thick mat of chest hair, Emma could make out the sigil inked into his and his brother’s skin. A more permanent layer of protection that Emma did not wish to think too long on as to the circumstances that had led to such a choice.
“Here,” Killian said, rounding the table. “Let me help you with that.”
Gently, he took the necklace from her grip and motioned for her to turn around. Emma lifted her hair so he could wrap the chain around her neck and secure the clasp.
“I should have given it to you when we first arrived,” he murmured. “I never considered the spirit here would know they could or manage enough energy to completely possess either you or…” Spinning her back around, Killian stared down at her with wide apologetic eyes. “Gods, Swan! I’m so sorry. I never asked how you were doing. I know what a fright it can be to see someone you care for taken over like that. Are you okay, love?”
“I… I’m fine. Really,” she assured him with a softly placed hand on his forearm. “As awful as it was, I’m just glad we finally know the identity of the other spirit.”
“As am I,” Liam said, turning their attention back towards the table. “I just wish we knew how she found out about possession.”
Emma gripped her bottom lip tightly with her teeth and closed her eyes before blurting out, “I think it was because of Neal.”
The brothers’ heads shot towards her in unison.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What do you mean?”
With her shoulders slightly scrunched, not thrilled about opening this particular can of worms, she glanced at Killian and said, “He mentioned something about opening your journal.”
“Your journal?” Liam repeated with a furrowed brow. “Why would he be looking in your journal, brother?”
Killian shook his head for a moment until Emma saw the truth dawn within the deep blue of his eyes.
“The photo,” he said, his cheeks turning rosy from the heat of his blush as it crested the tips of his ears.
“Photo? What photo?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Killian waved Liam off and brushed past Emma. The two followed him to the study where they found the aforementioned journal lying open on the pull out.
“What were you thinking leaving your journal open?” Liam admonished.
“Give me some credit,” Killian shot back. “I know better than that.”
“Why would it matter if the journal was left open?” Emma inquired, hoping the question would distract both brothers from the photo of her in that damned, scandalous, red bikini only a few feet away on the mattress.
“The journal is protected by the sigil, which means no spirit or demon can access it when it’s closed. When it’s open, however…”
“They can rifle through the bloody thing.”
Emma glanced down at the journal and noted it was open to a page titled, Possession, at the top.
“I’m so sorry,” Emma said, feeling even worse about Neal’s invasion of Killian’s privacy.
“It’s not your fault, Swan,” Killian assured her. Reaching across the bed, he picked up the photo and tucked it back into the journal before closing it firmly. After stuffing it away in his duffle he peeked up at her through his lashes, his hand pawing at the back of his ear. Perhaps realizing she wasn’t upset at him for still having the picture, he gave her that boyish, lop-sided smile of his and Emma couldn’t help but smile back.
“Well,” Liam began, shaking them both from the shared moment. “Now that mystery is solved, I suppose we should move forward with our plans. The sooner the better.”
“Aye,” Killian agreed. “I say we try and deal with her tonight. With her out of the way, it may be easier for Daniel to move on, especially if we can contact him without her interference and let him know that Regina knows the truth. Or much of it, anyway.”
“When you say deal with her, I assume you mean…”
“Aye,” Killian said, gravely. “Fancy a trip to the cemetery, love?”
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