#cs fic

A/N: Story context: This is a canon divergence of the CS movie, which begins right after Emma gets the wand from Rumplestiltskin. (He does not send him to his vault of do-not-touch things in this version tho. We’ll pretend Elsa gets to Storybrooke some other way lol. I’ll also be ignoring Marian, which, the show pretty much did when it just ended up being Zelena anyway lol. 

Emma smiled at the faintly glowing wand in her fingers, feeling the warmth of the return of her magic, lighting a glow in the vast dining room of Rumplestiltskin’s castle. 

Everything was back on track.

Including herself.

Perhaps she had been trying to take the easy way out, blocking her magic from returning so she could go back to New York with no ties left behind. 

But more than anything, it was Killian’s smile now that made the warmth inside her grow even more, and if it wasn’t her imagination, made the wand spark a little brighter.

“It works,” whispered Emma, staring at the wand in awe, eyes snapping to Killian. “My magic is back!”

“I knew you could do it, love.” said Killian softly, a relief in his eyes, like it was for both the possibility of getting back home, and for the fact that he still blamed himself for her powers being taken in the first place. 

“Ah, the Savior, of course,” murmured Rumplestiltskin from his perch on the edge of his dining table. “I should have known you would have magic of your own.”

Emma suddenly realized just how much Rumplestiltskin knew. “Is it a problem that you know…?”

“It would be,” he agreed, but lifted his hand, where a potion bottle materialized. “However, I have spent the past few hours mixing myself a Forgetting Potion.”

Emma smiled. “Good. Well, let’s do this, then.” She then lifted the wand, about to attempt to bring forth the time portal.

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Rumplestiltskin, jumping down and pushing her hand with the wand down. “Not in here. You might bring any number of my possessions with you.”

Emma winced, eyes finding the myriad of scary-looking things in the castle, wondering just how catastrophic that could be. 

She looked from Killian’s raised eyebrow to Rumplestiltskin. “So where do we—“

But not a second later, Rumplestiltskin’s castle was gone, and suddenly they were outside. Trees, greenery and blue sky replaced the walls of the Dark One’s abode. They weren’t too far from the town below, and not far off was the sea. But they were in an empty enough area of the forest that no one should see anything, and nothing should come with them.

 “Well,” said Killian, giving her another smile, “ready, there, Swan?”

Emma nodded. She lifted the wand again, concentrating on her magic, on the emotion in her chest, bright and raw. The tiny flicker of a portal, like a zipper drawn in the very fabric of the air, appeared before them. 

Killian grinned. “That’s it, lo—” 

He was cut off with a grunt, and Emma’s eyes snapped to him, her concentration broken and the tiny beginnings of the portal fizzled back out of existence. 

Emma’s heart stopped. 

They were no longer alone. 

A burly, muscled man had his arm around Killian’s neck in a chokehold, his other arm pinning Killian’s left arm to his side. Killian let out an angry, surprised snarl, jerking hard against the grip. 

“Hook!” cried Emma, jamming the wand in her back pocket to hide it and running toward him, only skidding to a stop when three other thugs suddenly flanked the first.

“Sw—“ began Killian, his right hand scrabbling at the hold around his neck, but his airway was quickly cut off. Red rushed to his face, and Emma’s heart froze.

“Sorry, darlin’,” said the man’s raspy voice. “We got direct orders to bring Captain Hook in. He stole from us last night, and now he gon’ pay. Pretty stupid to show yer face in the open like this, without yer crew, no less.” A dark chuckle. “Shoulda sailed away when he had the chance.” To someone behind him, he shouted, “Lucky catch, men!”

Killian struggled against them, something angry and feral, landing a blow to the man's gut. The man growled and stumbled, and Killian reared back to hit him again until the man snapped, “Stop fightin’ or the wench dies!” That made Killian freeze, staring at her with icy horror. 

For a moment, Emma and Killian stared at each other, and it felt like time stood still.

Panic rushed through Emma's chest.

Magic.

Magic.

But she had no idea how to use her magic.

And if she took even a step forward, she'd get a sword through her in seconds.

Killian grunted as a second thug grabbed him on his other side, ripping Killian's sword from his sheath.

Panic rose even sharper in Emma's chest.

Killian swallowed, eyes locked onto her. “Go—home,” Killian managed, his eyes pleading and broken, with something in them that looked like goodbye, only making Emma’s eyes burn. 

“Hook—!” breathed Emma, running for him, but froze when three swords pointed in her direction, so close to her it made her stumble back, falling to the ground.

And by the time she made it back to her feet, they were gone.

-.-.-.

Dark had fallen.

The air had chilled. 

But none of it gave her the cold dread inside her chest. 

She’d searched for hours.

But those men obviously knew this forest better than she did, and it was easy to get lost in it. 

Too easy.

She let them take him.

Emma kicked herself.

She should have done something.

She should have done something.

She should have been spending all the time back in Storybrooke learning magic instead of shoving it away.

Because now Killian was gone, and it was all her fault.

She got them stuck in the past.

She was the reason Killian stopped trying to free himself from those bastards.

She was the reason that they may never see each other again.

Emma couldn’t stop seeing his eyes. 

The resignation.

The defeat. 

The horrible, utter sadness.

She was now alone, and she’d never felt this alone in her entire life. 

It was one thing to grow up being alone. 

And it was another thing entirely to find people, to fall for people, and to have them ripped from you.

It was an entirely different thing to know what it felt like to not be alone.

And ever since meeting Killian, more or less after he decided to become a part of something , he’d been practically glued to her side. He’d voluntarily gone back to the land he hated more than anywhere, he’d given up his revenge, he’d found her in freaking New York City —an endeavor Emma still didn’t know how he managed to do—and how he managed to find her in a world he knew hardly anything about?

Emma stopped on the path, feeling the chill of the air. 

Even the air felt different in the Enchanted Forest. It felt… unearthly, which, wasn’t exactly off point. The magic in the land seemed to crackle like a charged atmosphere. The animal sounds, the nightly coos and caws were different, and all this different was unsettling and…

She really, really didn’t want to admit she was scared. 

But Emma didn’t have Mary Margaret with her this time. She didn’t have a princess squad to help her through. And, she didn’t have Hook.

Killian, who was god knew where. 

He might even already be—

No , said a firm voice in her head, trying to quell the hair that raised on the back of her neck at the thought. They wouldn’t have kidnapped him if they were going to be quick about it. 

The idea of him suffering at all…

Emma swallowed, hard, trying to shove down the rush of panic that shook her fingers.

How the hell was she supposed to find him?

She was a complete outsider. 

She not only wasn’t from this town, she wasn’t from this world , and she wasn’t from this time, not by a long shot. 

She was trapped thirty years in the past, and Killian could be anywhere. 

“Go home.”

Emma shut her eyes at Killian’s echo.

Go home.

He wanted her to go home.

He wanted her to leave him here, conjure the portal, and go home.

The very fact that he thought she would made her chest hurt, because how could he think she’d leave him here?

But…

“You really thought I’d let you drown?”

“Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain? ”

Here she was thinking how he could possibly think she didn’t care about him, when…

“Do you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?”

He said anyone.

He meant me.

And replaying it all, how could she think he’d know she did?

All she’s done since he saved her in New York, was walk away from him.

But she did care.

She more than cared.

And now, she may never —

No.

Emma opened her eyes, ignoring the burn in them.

Determination set into her face, Emma made up her mind without hesitation. 

There was no way she was leaving here without Killian.

The thought of returning to life without him, living without him…

It felt wrong. 

Something about him in her life just made sense. Even now, she felt like something was missing, and suddenly she was wondering how she ever considered leaving her family, leaving him, to go back to New York. 

“Go home.”

She couldn’t go home when he already became her home.

But… 

How on earth—or, how in the Enchanted Forest—was she supposed to find him?

And before they did something terrible and irreversible to him?

“He stole from us last night. Now he’s gon' pay.”

Emma blinked. 

Killian didn’t steal anything from anyone; she knew he hadn’t. He’d been too concerned with messing up the time continuum.

He hadn’t stolen.

But Emma had a pretty good feeling who had.

And Killian was currently paying for his crime. 

Emma smiled grimly, a plan unfolding in her head. 

She started walking, faster this time.

She just hoped the Jolly Roger was still in port. 

-.-.-.

Emma clung to the shadows when she entered the town. 

Thanks to Rumplestiltskin returning her clothes, she was no longer wearing the ragged dress and cloak that they had stolen, and was back in her jeans and leather jacket. Something that, Killian’s voice reminded her, hasn’t come into vogue, ever. So… she had to be careful. They just fixed the timeline; they cannot ruin it all over again.

But Killian was worth that risk.

As she clung to the dark areas of town, Emma was reminded of a younger her, living on the streets, dodging shadowy corners to pitch black alleyways. It was evening, the sky blackening with an array of stars, but the town still bustled with life, mostly around the taverns. 

Emma passed the tavern she and Killian had found his past-self in, and Emma risked a look inside, but he wasn’t there. 

Her heart quickening, Emma suddenly worried he wasn’t even in town.

She picked up her pace, following the path past-Hook had led her down when he’d been her inebriated guide. 

Emma emerged from the cover of an alley, looking up to see the sea, and ships of all sizes moored at the docks. And among them—

Emma felt relief flood her. 

The Jolly Roger. 

She smiled despite herself, picking up her pace. As she got closer, she could see the crew retracting the anchor—

They were leaving. 

Her heart pounding, Emma began to sprint. 

With grunts of heaving, two members of the Jolly’s crew were lifting the gangplank.

It was halfway up when Emma got to it, flinging herself off the dock and onto it, barely making the jump. She slid down the wood, landing in a heap on the deck. 

“What in the blazes—?!”

The two men nearly dropped the gangplank, but managed to finish shutting it, faster, as if worrying that someone else was going to attempt Emma’s jump. 

Her entire body throbbing from the mistreatment, Emma slowly picked herself up from the deck. She quickly noticed at least a dozen pirates were staring at her in shock. 

But a voice broke through the din, and Emma would recognize it anywhere. 

“Well, you don’t bloody see something like that every day.”

-.-.-.

Despite her protests, Emma had been manhandled by two of the crew members and dragged into the Captain’s Quarters a moment after she’d seen him. He’d witnessed her reckless jump onto his ship, but hadn’t said a word to her yet. 

She was currently in the chair opposite his desk, two burly hands on her shoulders keeping her pinned down, and Hook was in his chair behind the desk, staring at her in silence. 

“What are you doing aboard my ship?” he said finally. 

Emma flicked her eyes to the pirate holding her down, then back to Hook. “I’ll tell you, but only you.”

Hook sighed, then flicked his eyes to the man behind her, giving a minute nod and a slight roll of his eyes. Then, when the door clicked shut, he gave her a pointed look.

Emma let out a breath, her heart beating in a frenzy. This Hook was not half as drunk as he was when they last met. His gaze on her was cold and measured and there was no trace of the softness Killian had now. It unnerved her, this air of danger he held, sitting before her. Waiting. 

But Emma swallowed, trying to remember, this is still Killian. Just… buried under two hundred years of pain and resentment. 

It didn’t make her feel better. 

“I need your help.” said Emma at last, holding his gaze. 

His brow lifted, like that was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “My help?” he echoed, lips twisting a little in amusement. “I’m a pirate captain, lass. You’ve mistaken me for someone who gives. Pirates take.”

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the irony that all he’s done the past two years was give. 

Worry fluttered in her stomach, suddenly wondering if her Killian was all right.

And when did he start being ‘her’ Killian?

Emma let out another breath. “Yeah, that’s actually what brings me here. All I need to know,” said Emma slowly, “is who you stole from last night.” 

She’d thought it through; if she could just get the name or the place of the person who he’d stolen from, she could go find Killian without Hook ever needing to know she was from the future. 

Hook paused. 

Suspicion suddenly gleamed in his eyes. 

He stood, and rounded his desk until he was standing before her. 

The suspicion only deepened in his eyes.

Emma could feel the danger radiate off him like a cologne. 

She was trying not to shrink under his intense gaze when he leaned even closer, his face inches from hers. He searched her eyes.

“You,” he whispered. “I remember you.”

Emma’s heart skipped. “You do?” she breathed. 

She should have known it was irrational to think he meant he remembered knowing her. 

Because his eyes narrowed, coldness in the blue. “You owe me a nightcap, love.”

Emma froze. “Oh,” she said, biting her lip. “Didn’t blame the rum, huh?”

He leaned back slightly, but looked no less predatory. “I’m guessing this is from you as well,” he said, brushing the metal of his hook to his cheek where Killian had hit him. 

Emma winced. “Not exactly—“

He was suddenly in her face again, eyes narrowed, colder than ice. “You were trying to get me drunk. To get on my ship,” he muttered. “Why?”

Oops.

Emma tried to think fast. 

She did not like a version of Killian that scared her, and this one did exactly that. 

As if to prove the point, he raised his hook, tracing her jaw until the tip was underneath her chin, forcing her head up. Emma gasped reflexively, suddenly realizing how bad of an idea this had been. “Tell me,” he hissed, “or this will be rather unpleasant.”

Emma swallowed, trying to stem the rush of fear. To hell with the timeline. “I’m from the future.”

His brow rose sharply, surprise and a little confusion slipping into that cold expression. Clearly time travel was not one of the things he’d expected her to say. 

It was the second time she’d surprised him, and Emma knew he wasn’t an easily surprised man.

Before he could interrupt, she went on, wincing as the sharp tip of his hook stung. “I’m telling you the truth,” she said quickly, fear sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m from… about thirty years in the future. I think. It’s really hard to keep track with all the curses," she finished, which even to her ears sounded like she was crazy.

“Time travel is unheard of.” said Hook, dismissing her whole story.

"You spend two hundred years on an island where time doesn't even exist and this is too crazy for you to imagine?" snapped Emma exasperatedly.

He ignored her. “Now, what are you really doing on my ship? Clearly if you’d gotten what you wanted, you wouldn’t have been daft enough to return.” His eyes looked her up and down, his brow lifting when his eyes reached hers, and Emma glared at him. “And if I had gotten what I wanted, that night would not have ended with you injuring me.” A cold smile. “Well, not in the traditional way, anyway.”

Emma huffed out a breath, almost forgetting just how innuendo-clad he once was. “Look, I’m telling the truth . I need your help to—“ She gasped, the tip of his hook digging slightly deeper. 

“You will tell me what I want to know,” said Hook quietly. He removed his namesake, and Emma winced. “I’ll give you the night to think it over. Lie to me again," his voice lowering, dipping into the personification of danger as his gaze bored into hers, and she tried not to shrink under it, "you’ll be walking the plank in the morning.” He moved away from her, and Emma realized she'd forgotten how to breathe.

“Hook—“ began Emma, but Hook simply barked, “Jenkins!”

The door opened, and one of the men who had dragged her down here walked inside. 

“Take her to the brig.”

Emma’s heart pounded. “No— Hook,” she said quickly as he sat nonchalantly back at his desk. “I need—“

Emma was grabbed from behind and forced out. 

He didn’t look up as they took her. 

But when he thought she was out of sight, she saw him briefly touch his fingers to his lips, something unreadable stirring in his eyes.

-.-.-.-.

Emma waited until she was left alone, and the ship had quieted down enough to suggest the crew was asleep.

They’d bound her hands in front of her, which was their first mistake. 

Feeling a sense of deja vu, Emma felt along the ground until she found something useful. Finding something sharp and thin enough to work, she quickly got to work on the lock to the cage. 

The trouble was opening the door without it creaking, which took her plenty of precious minutes. 

Once free, she left the brig, and quietly made her way to the armory.

It was good that she was familiar with the ship after Neverland. Plenty of hours on the water had her nervous energy getting the better of herself and she’d done some extensive exploring. She’d paced the ship enough to know where its creaky boards were, so she was inside the armory in silence quickly. 

Emma grabbed the first blade she could find—a knife—and freed her hands, then took the gag from her mouth. 

Gripping the knife in her shaking hands, Emma left the armory, walking down the hallway to the door at the very end. 

The Captain’s Quarters. 

Feeling plenty of uncertainty, but needing to know where Killian was, Emma slowly reached for the door handle, glad the ridiculously loud chorus of snoring from the crew covered much of the noise she made. 

Slowly and without breathing, she opened his door. 

Emma shut it just as quietly, and the noise of the snoring was muted. 

Emma turned. 

The cabin was dark. 

And there, lying on his bed, was Hook. Asleep.

She could see him breathe beneath the blanket. 

Carefully, and avoiding every creak in the floor she knew of, Emma crept up to his bed. 

Then, she held the knife an inch from his throat, opening her mouth to wake him.

“Do I need to explain what a nightcap is to you?”

Emma jumped a mile in her skin.

Hook’s eyes were open, and he looked from the knife at his throat to Emma. A raised brow, he deadpanned, “You escaped.”

“You underestimated me.” she countered. He lifted his brow as Emma continued firmly, “I need you to help me.”

“Help me?” he echoed. His eyes flicked from the knife to her eyes. “You’re taking your life in your hands threatening me, lass.” he said dangerously.

“I’m trying to save your life!” snapped Emma.

His brow hitched higher, again flicking his eyes pointedly to the blade, then back at her. 

Emma sighed, removing the knife from his throat. 

He still didn’t move, eyeing her still suspiciously. “How is it you think you’re saving me?” he asked. 

Emma sighed shortly. “Look. I told you I was from the future. I am. I’m from your future. And I didn’t get sent to the past alone.” She took a breath, hoping telling him wouldn’t implode the timeline. But she was scared, she was alone, and without his information, she would never be able to find Killian. She could only hope that after she saved Killian, he’d still exist when they returned to their time. 

Emma sighed. “When I got sent here, you came with me.” she said finally.

Confusion kneaded his brows with honest puzzlement, and for the first time he looked almost like her Killian. “I… what?” he managed.

Emma sighed shortly. “You— future you,” clarified Emma. “You’re here, in the past, too.”

Hook looked lost in thought for a second. Then— “That was bloody real?”

“What was?” asked Emma.

He sat up, regarding her with both suspicion and shock. “The dream I thought I had of you, up until you foolishly returned.” Emma glared at him flatly as he went on, “I saw…”

“Yourself,” finished Emma impatiently. “Yeah. You punched yourself.” At his very perplexed expression, she went on, “I told him—you—it was a bad idea. So, blame yourself.” He blinked in utter confusion. But, at least, he seemed to believe her story. “Look,” said Emma, “we were on our way back to the future when some huge guys kidnapped him because they said he stole something and he needed to ‘pay for it’.” she finished in a bad facsimile of Killian’s abductor’s voice. Her eyes burning into Hook’s, she said, “What did you steal? Who are they and where did they take him?”

“You’re telling me,” said Hook slowly, “that there is a future version of me out here?”

“Yes,” said Emma through gritted teeth. “Now what did you—“

“Tell me, love,” said Hook casually enough, though the coldness in his words was back. “What is my future?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she said exasperatedly. “Already I need to get you a Forgetting Potion to make sure you get to that future.”

He stared at her for a long moment, a million things happening behind guarded eyes. But finally, his brow lifted a fraction. “And I’m just supposed to believe this?" 

Emma groaned. “What proof do you want?” she said impatiently. “Your father abandoned you and Liam; you used to be in the Royal Navy; you became a pirate after what happened to Liam in Neverland; you’re currently on a suicidal mission to kill Rumplestiltskin for taking your hand and Mila—“

“Stop!” 

Emma froze, having been angrily ticking off the trivia on her fingers, to see Hook’s eyes with more emotion than she’s seen from this version of him yet. 

“How do you know all that?” he breathed. For once, his voice lost Hook’s edge, and he sounded like Killian. The danger evaporated from him in seconds, replaced with something almost... lost. “It’s—it's been centuries since—"

“You told me.” said Emma simply. 

“I… told you,” repeated Hook flatly, words rolling off his tongue like something foreign. The edge in his voice swiftly returned as he demanded angrily, “And why the bloody hell would I do that?” 

“How should I know?” snapped Emma, her anxiety getting to her and sharpening her own tone.

He rose to his feet, and Emma did not like the feeling that he was attempting to use his height over hers to intimidate her. He leveled a look at her, with something different in his eyes, something dangerous in a new way. “Tell me one thing, lass," he began, voice casual-sounding, but underlined with something that sent a shiver down her spine, "and maybe I help you.”

“Why wouldn’t you help me?” exclaimed Emma, standing her ground. “You’d be helping you!”

“That remains to be seen.” He stepped toward her, and damn it he didn’t even need the hook to be imposing. “Tell me, lass.” Another step, and Emma felt her back hit the wall, not even realizing she’d been retreating. His gaze bored into hers. “Do I get my revenge?”

Emma swallowed, suddenly feeling a familiar sense of dread as to when the past version of Rumplestiltskin had asked about whether or not he found Neal.

When the silence spread a little too long, she whispered, “Hook—”

“Do I, or not?” he demanded, voice clipped. Cold.

Dangerous.

Emma felt paralyzed.

The Hook—the Killian —standing before her was completely hellbent on getting his revenge. He’s been at it for centuries, and the anger and pain in his eyes overpowered the blue in them, so much so it was hard to remember that Killian and Hook were the same person.

And here, Hook was his vengeance right now.

There was hardly a spark of him.

If she told him the truth, that he not only doesn’t kill his crocodile, but chooses to live peacefully in the same town as the monster? Gives up not only his quest for vengeance, but turns into a hero?

And worse yet, that he lets go of Milah?

For her?

From the amount of anger she’s eliciting from him right now, she doubted he’d be happy to know that information in particular.

So, she decided to tell him the truth.

Or…

Part of it.

“No,” she said finally, watching his brow shift dangerously. “Not yet.”

He searched her eyes, his face like stone. “Not yet?” he repeated, voice low, almost threatening.

Emma swallowed the fear slipping down her spine, hoping she was still as good of a liar as she once was. “Not yet,” she confirmed, which, still, wasn’t a complete lie. She took a breath, holding his gaze, preparing herself. 

And she lied.

“I’m helping you get your revenge in the future,” she said smoothly. “The Dark One is currently living in a realm without magic. He’s vulnerable. I’m helping you get there.” She swallowed, her entire body rigid. Hook was pin-silent as Emma finished, “We accidentally got sent to the past on our way there. That’s why I need you to help me. If you don’t, you will never get your revenge.”

Emma fell quiet, holding her head high, clinging onto confidence she didn’t feel in the slightest.

Killian could read her like an open book.

If this version of him was as perceptive as he comes to be…

If he found her lying to him…

Again …

Emma tried to ignore the fear prickling in her veins.

He held her gaze, pinning her to the spot with his eyes alone. Watching her eyes carefully, his narrowed. 

Finally, he said, “Why are you helping me?”

Emma tried not to flinch at the obvious distaste in his voice. She thought fast, and found something that held nothing but truth. “Because,” she said, “you did me a favor. I’m repaying a debt.”

His brow lifted. “Quite the debt.”

Emma felt something stir in her chest, thinking of all that Killian has done for her. “It was quite the favor,” she said quietly.

His brows kneaded with question, like he wasn’t sure why he would bother to do her a favor.

Emma was quickly becoming irritated with this version of Hook.

“How are you helping me?” he asked then, gaze boring into hers, almost as if he was trying to poke holes into her story to see if it would leak. “Why do I need you?”

It was spoken so carelessly.

And it hurt.

Emma was surprised at the sudden burn behind her eyes.

She’d brushed off Killian’s affections, his obvious devotion to her, more times than she could count. 

And here he was, looking at her like he couldn’t have cared about her less.

How could she have wasted all the time she had with him?

Getting him back now was the longest of long shots, for—and it made sharp fear race down her spine— he could already be dead.

Blinking away the emotion, Emma huffed out a breath, trying not to appear as hurt by his words as she was. “I’ve got Light Magic,” she snapped, making surprise lift his brow. “You’re trying to kill the Dark One. Do the math.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed, danger rolling off him in waves.

Finally, he spoke.

“I help you, and, him,” he muttered, uneasily over what to call his future self, “get back to your time,” he said slowly, “and then I will get what I want most?”

Emma felt the ghost of a smile touch her lips, for she didn’t have to lie for this one. “Yes.” 

He most definitely will. 

-.-.-.-. TBC

That’s why he wasn’t buying the shocked look on the witch sitting across from him face. Witches were loyal to their coven. There was no way that they would say or do anything against one of their own.   

“I don’t understand. What do you mean you think someone here had something to do with the murder?” The witch, Emma he believed her name was, said angrily. She was a beautiful woman. He thought so when he first saw her walking toward them earlier, all sweet smiles while welcoming them.

David turned and glared at him for the abruptness of his statement. “What my partner means, Ms. Swan, is we have come into some evidence that someone from this coven could be involved and we would like your input on the matter,” he said, trying to ease the tension he could feel between his partner and the woman in front of him.

Emma threw one last heated glare at the dark haired man before turning her attention back to Guard Member Nolan. “What kind of evidence do you have?”

David reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. Opening it he took out two photographes. "Ms. Swan, can you tell me if you recognize this woman?” he asked, passing her one of the pictures.

When Emma looked at the photo she gasped at the image. “Oh my God! That’s Glinda!” she exclaimed in horror.

“Glinda?” David asked. 

“She’s one of our senior witches or she used to be.” Emma whispered, still not believing what she was seeing. “What happened to her?”

“I’m very sorry to say that she was in the sanctuary when it was burned down,” David told her sympathetically.

Emma looked up at him in confusion. “Why would Glina be in a sanctuary? She wasn’t running from anyone.”

David went to respond but was interrupted. 

“What do you mean she used to be your most senior witch?” Killian asked sharply.

 Emma turned to glare at him. “She left the coven. Relocated back to her hometown,” she responded through clenched teeth. 

“When did she leave?” David inquired gently, hoping to put the young witch at ease after his partner's abrasiveness.

“She left about a week ago,” Emma said while still shooting daggers at Jones.

“Did she tell you, or anyone, why she was leaving?”David questioned further.

Emma turned to him and shook her head. “No. She left in a hurry. She didn’t even say goodbye to anyone.”

Killian scoffed.

“Do you have something to say?” Emma demanded. 

“Aye. You're telling me that one of the most senior witches of your coven just up and left without any explanation and nobody found that the least bit suspicious. I thought you witch types were supposed to be smarter than that," Killian said harshly.

"Now you wait a damn minute! I don't know who you think you are but you have no right coming into this coven and speaking to me in this manner! I don't give two shits if you are a Guard Member!" Emma yelled, rising to her feet to stand in front of him. She knew she shouldn't be talking to him like this but he was being a dick.

Killian looked up at her speechless. He didn't expect that sort of reaction. She was gorgeous standing before him, blonde hair tousled and green eyes on fire. She was magnificent and if she hadn't been a witch he might have been tempted. Too bad that she was.

“Okay. Why don’t we all just calm down and take a deep breath," David suggested as he quickly rose and stood between them.

"I certainly hope you don't conduct all your investigations like this." Emma seethed All the while narrowing her eyes at Jones, who had the audacity to smirk at her.

"No. You'll have to excuse my partner, it seems he left his manners at home," David said, turning to Killian and silently telling him to shut the hell up. His partner rolled his eyes then gave him a quick nod of his head.

Emma sat back down trying her best not to pay Jones any attention. Taking a deep breath she faced Nolan. "I don't understand, Glinda didn't have any reason to seek shelter in a sanctuary. She wasn't cast out and she certainly didn't abandon us. What was she doing there?" she lamented, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Glinda was dead. 

"It might have something to do with this," David said, passing her the other photo. "Does the symbol look familiar to you?"

Emma took the photo and frowned at the image, it was a little hard to make out what with it being traced in what she assumed was ashes. It was a dagger with what looked like a rose wrapped around the blade. "No. I've never seen this before. What is it? " She asked, handing back the photo.

David  exchanged a quick glance at Killian silently communicating with his partner before turning back to the witch. "Ms. Swan.." except he didn’t get the chance to finish his question because a voice interrupted him. 

“What on earth is going on here?” 

All three heads turned toward the sound of the voice to see a dark haired woman walking towards them. She had the air of authority around her and judging by the look on her face, she was not pleased with the situation she walked in on.

“Regina,” Emma said as she hastily rose to her feet and out of the corner of her eye she saw the two men do the same. Her aunt looked as poised as ever but Emma could see a slight bit of nervousness that was uncommon for Regina. "These gentlemen are with the Guard." 

"Yes. I know," Regina says matter of factly before turning toward Nolan. "Hello, David," she said in greeting, her tone oddly fond.

"Regina," David says coldly, his demeanor instantly changing in the presence of the woman.

Regina smirked slightly at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu family reunion?"

"We aren't family," David said harshly.

Emma and Killian looked at each other in confusion. Their mutual animosity was forgotten for a moment as they watched. 

Killian looked at his partner in shock. "Wait a bloody minute. You know her David?" 

“Unfortunately,” David responded.

“Oh! David you wound me,” the dark haired witch said mockingly.

“Enough! Regina we’re here on High Counsel business,” David said firmly

“What kind of business?” Regina asked in an annoyed tone.

“Glinda’s dead, Regina,” Emma informed her gently.

“What,” Regina says, clearly taken aback.

“There was a fire at a sanctuary, it was burned to the ground. Glinda was inside,” Emma explained.

“How do you know it was Glinda?” she asked, with a stricken look on her face.

Killian, having had enough of beating around the bush, grabbed the envelope out of David’s hand. “Because of these,” he said, taking the photos out and tossing them on the table. He watched as Regina took in the images before her. A sense of delight went through him as he saw her eyes widen. “Look familiar?” he asked, gesturing toward the photo of the dagger and rose symbol.

“That symbol has nothing to do with me,” Regina hissed in contempt.

“Regina, do you know what it means?” Emma asked her aunt.

“It’s nothing!” she said dismissively.

“Oh, you know it’s not nothing.” Killian said before turning to Emma. “It’s the insignia of a very dangerous dark magic user, one your aunt knows very well,” he said, throwing a smirk Regina’s way.

“You need to stop talking right now,” Regina said, taking a menacing step toward him.

“It’s the reason that she’s dead. The fire didn’t kill her,” Killian informed them, not backing down.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked.

“Our head healer came to the conclusion that Glinda’s heart was crushed from within,” David informed them while casting a pointed look at Regina.

Emma gasped. “That’s impossible! That’s a dark magic act and it’s been outlawed for centuries.”

“Darling, if you actually believe that, then you are more naive than I thought.” Killian

sneered at her.

Emma could feel herself start to tremble with rage at the man standing across from her. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly what kind of jackass he was but never got the chance because suddenly a loud bang rang out.

All eyes turned toward the sound. David had apparently taken out his sword and slammed it onto the table. “Enough! this isn’t doing us any good!” he said, his voice filled with anger. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Obviously we aren’t getting anywhere, so for right now we’ll be leaving,” he turned to look at Regina, “but make no mistake. We’ll be back.”

“David you can’t be serious,” Killian said, clearly not happy with his partner's decision.

“Let’s go,” The older man said as he picked his sword and the pictures up off the table. 

Killian leveled a glare at the two witches before he turned and followed his partner to the door.

XXX

When they got outside Killian turned to David. “What the hell was that!?” He demanded.

“Not now, Killian,” David said through clenched teeth. He knew that coming here was going to be tough, but he thought he could handle it. He had almost breathed a sigh of relief when instead of Regina another witch had come to greet them. That relief was short lived of course when the woman he hated with every fiber of his being walked into the room. David would normally call himself a pretty level headed and calm person but he knew he had to get out of there before he did something he regretted. He took a few deep breaths to calm down before heading down the path towards their car. 

“David. Would you hold on a minute,” Killian said once he caught up to his partner. 

“What!” David snapped as he spun around to face the younger man.

Killian stopped in his tracks, slightly taken aback by the older man’s demeanor. “What’s gotten into you, David?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. Let’s just get back to the compound,” David said tersely before getting into the car and slamming the driver's side door behind him. 

Killian stood there in shock until the sound of the car starting broke him out of it and he quickly got in the car. The drive was quiet, neither man said anything for fear of setting the other off. Killian stared out the window thinking back on the interview. To say it was a disaster would be an understatement and if he were being honest Killian was one of the main reasons why it was. He knew that he let his anger get the better of him and it might hurt the investigation to come.

Killian turned to look at David and a stab of guilt went through him. He owed the man literally everything, Killian would be dead in a ditch somewhere if it wasn’t for David. Before becoming a Guard Member, Killian’s life had been hell. His Mother had died when he was young leaving him and his older brother to be raised by their absentee father. Parenthood didn’t agree with their no good father anymore and after a few years, he left in the middle of the night and then it was just him and Liam on their own until..it was just him. 

When David found him he was angry, vengeful and on the verge of doing something incredibly stupid. David had talked him down. He had brought Killian back with him to The Guard Headquarters and since then, David had been his mentor, partner and friend. Becoming a Guard Member had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had found a community of people that he loved and respected including David’s wife Mary Margaret, who welcomed him with open arms. 

The car coming to a stop pulled Killain back to the present and saw that they had come to a stop in front of David and Mary Margaret’s house. “Dave. What are we doing here? Shouldn’t we be heading back to headquarters and briefing them on what happened?” 

David didn’t look at his partner as he turned off the car, still too angry about everything that happened. If David was being honest he wasn’t really even all that mad at Killian’s behavior tonight. He knew how the younger man felt about witches, so he wasn’t entirely surprised by his reaction. No, David was angry because he had to go and tell his wife everything that happened tonight and he was not looking forward to it. With a deep sigh he opened the door and stepped into the cool night air. 

“David what’s going on? Why are we here?” Killian asked again. Concerned about how quiet his partner was being.

David finally turned to look at Killian as the younger man came around the car and stood next to him. “I need to talk to Mary Margaret,” he said wearily.

Killian looked at him in confusion. “About what?”

“Lad, don’t get too overzealous. I am creating a mighty fine ship over here.” Killian responded. The boys decided to display their gingerbreads for their family to judge and pick a winner tomorrow morning on Christmas Eve. Everyone would spend Christmas Eve over at Emma and Killian’s for breakfast before more gatherings would occur throughout the day. The loser of their friendly competition had to do the winner’s chores for a week. 

“Mama! We need more gumdrops for my roof!” Hope interrupted her father and brother’s playful banter. 

“Okay, relax. I’ll grab them.” Emma responded, shaking her head slightly at her toddler’s enthusiasm. She jumped up and down for five minutes when Henry told her they would make gingerbread houses this Christmas season. “Do you want more of the pink and purple ones or all the colors?”

“Purple! And pink! And all of them!” Hope said, practically bouncing in her chair. Killian laughed quietly at his daughter. 

“Hey! Stop eating those candy pieces, little love. We need them for decorating. You can have a snack after we finish,” Killian chided Hope. 

“Sowwy! Candy is dewiscious!” Emma handed the little girl some more gumdrops, and she quickly went to work adding some on the roof of their gingerbread house. 

“Do you guys want some hot cocoa? I’m craving some,” Emma asked, getting the milk out of the fridge to boil on the stove. A chorus of “yes”es rang out in their kitchen. Emma got to work preparing four cups of hot cocoa while the milk boiled. This time next year they would have an infant, and everything would be hectic and crazy in a different way. Emma and Killian won’t be getting any sleep, and they had just gotten to the point that Hope would sleep through the night about a year and a half ago. They are still working on Hope staying in bed until at least 6:30 on school days, and 7 on weekends and breaks. Hopefully, Henry can come home from college for the winter holidays next year. Emma didn’t think it would ever feel like Christmas if all of her kids weren’t home. 

The bubbling of boiling milk snapped Emma out of her thoughts, and she poured the glasses of milk into mugs before finishing making the hot chocolate exactly as they all liked. Emma took a minute to take in her family just the way they were- Henry laughing at something Killian had said, some flour in his hair; Killian putting a dab of icing on Hope’s nose, causing her to burst out into a fit of giggles; her husband entertaining their kids, his smile lines showing in the cold, winter light streaming through the windows. She hoped their home was always filled with love and laughter like it was in this perfect moment. 

-------CS-------

“My AT-AT was better than your ship,” Henry grumbled as they walked up the steps to Regina’s mansion. 

“Lad, just admit that you lost. Fair and square as they say,” Killian replied with a smirk. 

“It’s only because the kids don’t know what an AT-AT is yet. Everyone loves the Jolly Roger. And you!” Henry snapped. 

“Everyone loves me?” 

“Killian, stop. It’s Christmas Eve. Stop antagonizing him,” Emma hushed. They greeted everyone at Regina’s house. They were evidently the last ones there. Zelena practically lived with Regina and Robin, and young Robin also lived with them and Roland. Emma’s parents and siblings were already there, and so were Belle and Gideon. Gold was apparently home with the flu. Not that she wished him ill, but she was certainly glad Gold was not there for Christmas Eve to prevent any possible feuds between him and Killian. Granny was also spending Christmas Eve with them since Ruby had moved to Kansas with Dorothy. 

After greetings, they gathered around for their feast. It was a potluck of Christmas dishes, with a little of everything anyone could want to eat around the holidays. Emma was thankful her morning sickness was pretty much gone, because she was hungry and wanted to enjoy the food. They had brought Emma’s new found favorite dessert: a chocolate peppermint ganache brownie deliciousness. Emma was craving all things chocolate and peppermint right now, and she had made these brownies at least once a week for the past month. Most of their company seemed to enjoy the brownies as well, complimenting the couple. When everyone had finished eating, the adults helped clean up the kitchen and dishes, while Henry took the children to prepare for their play. Henry had his camera set up to film the play for his senior project. The children got into their costumes, and before long, the adults were settled and the play had gone underway. Emma and Killian sat on a loveseat together, his arms protectively draped over her shoulders. She laid her head on Killian’s shoulder as Henry began narrating the play. 

Henry was a natural storyteller, and his job as the author only strengthened his skills. Henry had chosen to reenact Emma and Killian’s journey to the past in the Enchanted Forest, when Emma and Killian got to watch Snow and Charming fall in love. The children were playing different people, with Gideon playing his father, Neal as David, Margaret Ruth as Snow, Hope as Emma, Robin as Regina, and Roland as Killian. Henry weaved them through the story, with Hope and Roland going back in time, and arguing in the forest about getting back to the present. There was a costume change, and Hope was then wearing a cloak reminiscent of the Enchanted Forest. They then meet Gideon, who did an excellent job playing his father. Gideon even perfected Rumple’s voice he used before arriving in Storybrooke 30-some years ago. Hope and Roland had another costume change, and Hope was wearing a red satin dress she had worn for Christmas last year. Roland got down on his knees to help Hope dance during the “ball’. Robin, playing Regina, suddenly interrupted their dance and takes Hope prisoner. Roland and Neal converse before going to break Hope out of prison. Before they get there, Hope has escaped herself and delivers Emma’s famous line of “Sorry. No one saves me but me!” and winks at their audience. There’s a brief jump ahead and Hope and Roland help to ensure that Neal and Margaret Ruth meet for the first time. Hope and Roland once again talk with Gideon, before they discover that Hope has her magic again, and they return from their adventure into the past. They all hold hands and bow, finishing out their little play. 

The adults burst out into applause, and congratulate the kids on their great performance. Every adult in the room embraces Henry and praises him for a job well done. Despite everyone speaking highly of Henry’s hard work, Henry can’t help but grumble. 

“It would have went a lot smoother if they had actually bothered to practice!” 

-------CS-------

“Mama! Papa! It’s Chwistmas! Get up! Get up! Get up!” Hope shrieked, making her way down the hallway to her parent’s bedroom. 

“Ugh, already?” Emma mumbled into her pillow, pulling her husband's arms closer around her. His hand was firmly planted on her baby bump, thumb rubbing circles into her bare skin where her shirt had slid up in sleep. Killian kissed her shoulder before snuggling his face in her long blonde tresses. Hope opened their door and skipped to her father’s side of the bed. 

“Papa! It’s Chwistmas!” She repeated, trying to climb up the bed. Killian relented and helped her up, tickling her in the process. “Papa!” Hope giggled, crawling on the bed to her mother for protection. Emma enveloped her daughter in her arms, kissing the little girl on her hairline. 

“Good morning, baby,” Emma said, snuggling Hope closer to her.

“Morning, Mama. It's Chwistmas!” Hope said, her blue eyes shining in the early morning light. 

“You’re right. It is Christmas morning. How’d you sleep?” 

“Good! I had dweams that Santa bwought lots of presents! Maybe he bwought me a baby!” Hope said, suddenly remembering her dreams. 

“A baby?” Emma questioned. 

“Mhmm. I want a baby. Like I’m Henwy’s baby. I want a baby.” Hope explained. 

“Like a baby brother or sister?” 

“Yeah! Henwy says he likes being a big brother. I want to be a big sister!” Emma looked at her husband. He smiled at his girls, before nodding his head to his wife. This was their perfect opportunity. 

“Well, Santa didn’t bring you a baby, but Papa and I have a surprise for you, sweet girl.” Emma began. 

“A supwise?!” Hope perked up, her riotous blonde curls falling down her back. 

“Your Mama has a baby in her tummy right now, little love,” Killian said gently, stroking his daughter’s hair as she looked intently at her parents. 

“In your tummy?” 

“Mhmm. Do you want to see?” Emma asked. 

“Yeah!” Emma pulled their comforter down to reveal her baby bump. Hope probably also hadn't noticed because she’d been wearing baggy sweaters and coats to hide the baby bump from her parents. Hope placed her tiny hands on her mother’s stomach, curiously observing Emma’s breathing. “There’s a baby in your tummy? When does it come out?”

“The baby will come out of my tummy in the spring. In May, right before you get out of school for the summer,” Emma replied, placing her hands over Hope’s tiny ones. 

“Is it a brother or a sister?” 

“We don’t know yet, baby. We will get to know so soon at the next doctor’s appointment.”

“The baby has to go to the doctor?!” Hope asked incredulously. 

“Well, kind of. Mama has to go to the doctor. The doctor has to check on Mama and the baby,” Killian chimed in. “We had to go to the doctor when you were in Mama’s tummy, too.”

“I was in Mama’s tummy?!”

“Yep. And your Papa would sing you lullabies every night to help you go to sleep.” Emma smiled at her little family. 

“Just like you sing me lullabies now Papa! Did you sing to the baby yet?” Hope asked, hands exploring Emma’s stomach and pushing her shirt up over her bump. Hope was too young to remember Snow being pregnant with Margaret Ruth, so she hadn’t really ever been exposed to pregnant women before. 

“I’ve sung a little bit, but the baby is still little, so it hasn’t been keeping your Mama up yet. When the baby gets a little bigger, it moves around. When you were big enough and moving around, you sometimes kept your Mama up at night. The only two things that would calm you down enough for Mama to sleep were for me to sing lullabies or for us to sleep on the Jolly Roger. You calmed down because of the waves gently rocking the ship.” Killian explained. 

“I moved in your tummy?”

“All. The. Time. You loved kicking me all day long. And sometimes all night long.”

“Has my baby kicked you?” Hope asked, finally tearing her eyes away from her mother’s stomach and looking at her face. 

“Your baby?”

“I’m Henwy’s baby, so this is my baby,” Hope said matter-of-factly. 

“What about my babies?” Emma questioned the four-year-old’s logic.

“We are all your babies, Mama!” Hope giggled in response.

“Ahh, I see. And no, the baby hasn’t kicked yet. Maybe in a few weeks it will.” 

“But if the baby is not kickin’ you, why you so sweepy?”

“Because that is just what happens. The baby has to grow a lot. It starts out smaller than the nail on your pinky finger and it gets as big as your baby doll. Then once the baby is out of my belly, it will get as big as Margaret Ruth, and you, and Neal, and Henry and even bigger, just like you are going to get bigger. But the baby is growing a lot, so I have to eat more for the baby, and it makes me tired when the baby is growing,” Emma attempted to explain. Hope nodded in understanding before sliding herself down so her face was right in front of the baby bump. 

“Hi, baby! I’m Hope! I’m gonna be a big sister! Don’t make Mama too tired today, it’s Chwistmas! And we are gonna see Henwy and Grandma and Grandpa and Neal and Ruthie!” 

“Hope, Grandpa and Grandma and Neal and Margaret Ruth don’t know about the baby yet. We have to tell them. Do you think you could help us tell them in a little bit?” Killian asked.

“Gwandma doesn’t know?! She knows everything!”

“Tell me about it, kid,” Emma said. 

“I wanna tell them! I wanna tell them!” Hope exclaimed, before beginning to jump up and down on the bed. 

“Be careful!” Emma and Killian said in unison. 

“We have to be very careful with Mama because of the baby right now, little love,” Killian said gently. 

“Sowwy Mama!”

“It’s alright sweet girl. Do you want to wake Henry up so we can get ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s?” Emma asked. Hope practically leaped off the bed and ran for the door, a “yes!” coming from her before she rounded the corner towards Henry’s room. 

“Well, that went well,” Emma said sleepily, curling herself into Killian’s arms. Killian embraced his wife, blunt arm going around her back and his hand finding its place on her stomach once again.

“Aye, love. I told you there’d be nothing to worry about. Our girl loves her baby dolls and is practically your sister’s older sister. Everything will be fine. And I think your parents will be pleasantly surprised later,” Killian replied. They snuggled together in the stillness of the December morning for several more minutes, until Hope could again be heard down the hallway talking animatedly to Henry about babies and tummies. 

-------CS-------

“Alright remember Hope- the baby is a secret until we tell you. Then you can tell Grandma and Grandpa,” Henry said, reminding his sister of their plan once more as they pulled up to the Nolan’s farmhouse. The house was decorated for Christmas with lights and garland lining the massive covered front porch. 

“I ‘member!” Hope said, eagerly looking out the window at her grandparents’ house. “And it's a secret from Neal and Ruthie, too!”

“That’s right. It’s like how our play was a secret. We can’t tell them until Mama or Papa tells you. You did so good keeping the play a secret.”

“I’ll be good! I pwomise!” Hope said as Emma parked their car. When they were pregnant with Hope, Emma, and Killian had ventured out of Storybrooke looking for a newer and nicer car for their growing family. They decided on a new Subaru Outback, with 5 seats and plenty of safety features for their icy and snowy winters in Maine. The family got out of the car and made their way up the front steps before knocking and entering the warm house. 

“Mmmm,” Emma said, smelling the aroma of spices and freshly baked goods in the foyer. “Mom, I have no idea what you’re making, but it smells so good.”

“Thanks, sweetheart! I just took the sourdough out of the oven! Should be perfect with the eggs your father is finishing up.” Snow replied, not leaving her spot in the kitchen. Emma, Killian, Henry, and Hope removed their boots and coats in the mudroom before venturing further into the house. Neal and Margaret Ruth came down the stairs in nice clothes, ready for the inevitable family photo. The children greeted each other before Neal made his way to his sister. 

“Ems! Merry Christmas!” Neal greeted, giving Emma a big hug. Because he was ten, Neal’s head was at Emma’s abdomen height. In the tight hug, Neal realized something was impacting his ability to hug his sister. “Ems?” Neal questioned quietly, looking up from her shirt to Emma’s face. She just smiled before quietly telling him she would tell him later. He nodded before smiling at his older sister, going back in for a second hug. Snow finally made her way out of the kitchen to greet her daughter’s family, giving everyone hugs. Emma made sure she didn’t get too tight of a hug from her mother. She desperately tried to make it until Hope told her parents their little secret after breakfast. 

They ate breakfast together in the dining room, talking animatedly about different things going on in their lives, specifically, about Henry’s play from the previous night. 

“Henry, you just did such an incredible job. I have no idea how you pulled it off. I know we all loved it. We got to relive my love story with your grandfather, and a part of your mother’s love story. It was just really special. There’s a reason you are the writer,” Snow complimented. 

“Thanks, Grandma. I thought you would like it,” Henry beamed. After breakfast, the adults helped clean up before they moved into the living room to open presents from each other. 

“Alright, Hope. Come here,” Emma said after over an hour of opening presents. All the presents had been opened, so it was the perfect time for Hope to make their announcement. Hope followed her mother’s directions before Emma whispered in her ear. 

“Okay, Mama,” Hope whispered back, grinning at her parents and Henry. She turned around to her grandparents who were sitting on another couch before skipping over to them. 

“Gwandma and Gwandpa, there’s one more present!” Hope excitedly shared. 

“There is? There’s nothing else under the tree sweetheart,” Snow said, looking from their vibrant Christmas tree to her granddaughter. 

“It’s not under the tree silly!” Hope giggled. Snow and Charming looked more confused, but let Hope finish. “It’s from Mama! There’s a baby in her tummy right now!” The little girl shrieked. It took approximately 1.3 seconds for Snow to catch on before she jumped up off the couch screaming in excitement. 

“I knew it! I knew something was going on! OH! I’m SO excited for you Emma! Another baby?! How wonderful is that!” Snow squealed, forcing Emma to stand before embracing her in a very tight hug. 

“Mom. A little tight,” Emma muttered. 

“Oh! Sorry! I’m just so excited! And you!” Snow said, turning to her husband. “You have to do the dishes for a month. I told you!” Snow bragged triumphantly. 

“You made a bet that I was pregnant?” Emma questioned. 

“Of course! You were just being so suspicious! The weird appetite? Wanting to eat more? The tiredness? Dear, you were a classic case!” Snow babbled. “And you weren’t telling me anything whenever I asked. That was a surefire sign!” Snow embraced her eldest again, before hugging her son-in-law. 

“I’m so happy for you both!” Snow gushed. David had gotten over his initial shock, sure Killian would have told him earlier that they were pregnant again, and gathered Emma in his arms. One hand went around her back, and his other hand held her head like he always did when giving his daughter a comforting embrace. 

“Congratulations, Emma. I don’t know how you continue to make me proud to be your father, but I am so happy for you, and I am so proud of you. I can’t wait to have another grandchild.” David said in Emma’s ear during their embrace. 

“Thanks, Dad. It means a lot, and we’re both really excited,” Emma replied. David let go of his daughter before turning to his son-in-law (and best friend). 

“I’m a little hurt you didn’t tell me earlier, especially when I specifically asked you how Emma was doing. But, I understand, and I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Dave. We wanted to present it as a surprise for Christmas,” Killian said, hugging his mate. David quickly wiped tears from under his eyes trying to appear strong in front of his family. 

“Dad? Are you crying?” Emma asked, perplexed.

“Yeah, I just-. It’s something special to see your daughter growing up and being happy, Seeing you happy with Killian and with your growing family, it’s everything I wanted for you and more.” David’s comment brought a fresh layer of tears to Emma’s eyes, and she burrowed herself in her father’s arms once more. 

“I’m glad you are in my life, Dad. You too, Mom. Merry Christmas. I didn’t realize I was going to get so emotional,” Emma said, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked towards all of her family. 

“Love, you’re four and a half months pregnant. Of course, you were going to get emotional.” Killian said, face broken out in a permanent smile. 

“Four and a half months?!” shrieked Snow. Emma was never going to live down the fact that she hid her pregnancy from her mother for over four months, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Her parents were emotional soon-to-be grandparents for the third time. Her siblings looked excited and were already talking with Hope about “her baby in Mama’s tummy”, and Henry just looked proud. She sure was proud of her kid, and thankful that he was so supportive of her and Killian growing their little family. Then there was her husband. Killian had rarely looked happier, except maybe when she told him she was pregnant with Hope or the day Hope was born. Gone was the rough-around-the-edges great pirate captain. A loving, kind, generous, and supportive man stood in his place, and Emma couldn’t ask for a better friend, husband, or father for her children.