#daddy killian

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have to see if she can make it.” Killian said while scratching behind his ear, a tell-tale sign that he was nervous to anyone who actually knew him. Emma would know he was nervous.

“Great!” Ashley said, satisfied with his answer. “See y’all tomorrow!” She practically skipped down the empty university hallway. Killian and Belle waved their goodbyes before heading down a different hallway towards their offices.

“Killian, why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Belle inquired.

“The truth?” Killian scoffs. “Oh Ashley, sorry to disappoint, but the lovely blonde woman in several photos on my Facebook is not actually my girlfriend, just my best friend who I happen to have a crush on and we spend most nights together and I watch her son when she’s running late from work but she is oblivious to my feelings. So no, I don’t have a girlfriend and I’ll be showing up to this year’s faculty holiday party as I have every faculty party since working at this University, alone. I don’t think so Belle.”

“Well what are you going to do about Emma?” Belle asked.

Killian sighs. “I suppose see if I can bribe her to come as my pretend date. I’m not sure what all I’ll have to do to convince her it’s just fake.”

“Well, and I know I am being quite the romantic here, but you could always ask her out, like for real. This doesn’t have to be fake Killian. I am not nearly as close with Emma as you are, but I know she cares about you. She just might not know how because she’s scared. I mean the two of you practically raise her son together. I know you would do anything for Henry, and so does Emma. A few months ago you literally saved his life. I don’t think there’s much Emma wouldn’t do for you either. Maybe you should just ask?” Belle suggested.

Killian felt hope grow in his stomach, maybe those were just butterflies thinking about the possibility of actually dating Emma. He had known her for nearly two years since she moved into the apartment next to his. He had seen a couple helping her move in, and then a few days later he saw her again but she was trying to get a mattress into her apartment by herself. Killian, ever the gentleman, introduced himself and helped her get the mattress up the stairs and into her apartment. He ended up spending the rest of the afternoon helping her around her new apartment- putting together her bed frame, setting up her TV, helping her hang things on the walls- the works.She ended up asking if he wanted some pizza for his hard-work, which he accepted as a way to continue to hang out with the intriguing woman who was now his next-door neighbor.

He saw her a few times after that outside their apartments or on their patios, but their friendship actually began when she knocked on his door one evening asking if he wanted cookies. She looked like she had been crying, and he quickly ushered her into his apartment, hoping she would open up to him.

“You didn’t have to let me into your apartment, I was just going to give you the tray of cookies” she had said sheepishly.

“Nonsense love, you look like you could use a shoulder to cry on.” Killian had said. At her raised eyebrow, he clarified, “Well, you’re something of an open-book love, and I can tell something is on your mind. I would love nothing more than to listen to whatever is ailing you.”

She sniffled before mumbling something Killian couldn’t quite make out. “Beg pardon?” he said.

She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, before blurting out that she was pregnant.

“Oh, and the baby’s father?” Killian had asked, dreading the answer.

“Doesn’t know. It was my ex- the one I moved away from when I moved here. He already has a new girlfriend from what I’ve heard, and we broke up long before there was a baby involved. I made cookies because my foster mom always used to make cookies when something was upsetting us. It makes me feel better most of the time, but I didn’t want to sit in my apartment with three dozen cookies thinking about how I’m all alone and pregnant anymore, which is how I ended up here. Sorry to bother, I just-” Killian interrupted her with a hug, inhaling her eucalyptus shampoo and the slightly cinnamon-essence of Emma.

They became fast friends after that. He learned about her upbringing- her parents abandoned her off the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere Maine. She bounced around from foster home to foster home, similar to he and Liam once they were in the States after their father abandoned them. She was finally adopted by a woman named Ruth, and Emma gained an adoptive brother, David, whom she worked with. She also has David’s wife, Mary Margaret, who Emma claims has always been more of a mom to her than a sister-in-law. Besides the three of them, Emma didn’t have any family. And besides Liam and Elsa, Liam’s wife, Killian didn’t have any family either. Though Emma was scared of trusting people and being abandoned, somehow she let Killian in, and Killian couldn’t be more grateful. He was by her side through her pregnancy, and was even the one who drove her to the hospital and stayed with her through the birth of her son, Henry. Killain’s schedule as a university history professor was much more reliable and consistent than Emma’a job as a police detective for NYPD, so sometimes Emma would call him in a panic needing someone to relieve Henry’s babysitter because she caught a case. Killian was more than happy to step in and watch Henry, and he and Henry formed quite a close bond.

_____________

“So, do you have anything going on on the evening of December 13th?” Killian asked Emma that evening while making dinner in her apartment.

“Hmm, I mean I don’t think we have any plans because the Christmas gathering at David and M’s is on the 24th and it’s not like I have other family to have plans with.” Emma said while adjusting Henry in his baby rover as the packaging called it. “I mean I figure you and I will hang out between now and Christmas because you get off soon for the holidays right?”

“Yeah, on the 13th actually is when we finish. The faculty have a holiday party to celebrate the end of the semester every year, and I am going to go obviously because I always go and well Belle and Graham are going to be there and-”

“Killian, you’re rambing. And you’re scratching behind your ear. What’s wrong?” Emma interrupted.

“Wow you are quite the detective love” Killian laughed nervously.

“Killian.” Emma said more sternly.

“I was wondering if you would go with me. To the holiday party I mean. Everyone always brings their partner and this will be my seventh year at the University and I have never brought anyone. Some of my colleagues were nagging me about it, and it was assumed that I had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who I was bringing. To the holiday party. A blonde girlfriend who happens to appear in quite a few of my Facebook photos.” Killian spilled nervously, going back to mixing the rice and meat concoction for his and Emma’s quesadillas. “It would be fake, I just need you to pretend. It’s just for the evening Emma, but if you feel uncomfortable, then you don’t have to do it.”

Killian missed the disappointment in Emma’s eyes as he clarified the evening being a fake date as he was busy with dinner, but he was relieved when she agreed. “Of course I’ll go with you Killian. I’ll just see if David and M’s can watch Henry for the evening and we should be all set.”

Killian breathed a sigh of relief before smiling at Emma, and plating their dinner.

_____________

“What am I supposed to wear to the party?” Emma called from the bathroom where she was giving Henry a bath. Killian walked in from the living room so they weren’t yelling across the apartment.

“It’s a semi-formal evening, and something you already have should work. I don’t want you to have to purchase something new.” Killian replied.

“Well what if I want to buy a new dress? I mean I haven’t really had a formal occasion to dress up for since I had Henry and my undercover ops don’t count. I honestly don’t know if I even fit in some of my nicer dresses from before I was pregnant with Henry. Is there like a color I should keep in mind?” Emma asked while rinsing the shampoo out of Henry’s hair. Killian walked closer to the tub and bent down to play with Henry. At the sudden change in caregivers available to him, Henry squealed and ended up splashing both Emma and Killian.

“I think he wants to call you something, but he just doesn’t know what.” Emma smiled at Henry, wiping the water out of his eyes.

“Hmm?” Killian didn’t understand where she was going with the abrupt change in topics.

“Henry I mean. He’s been calling me ‘Mama’ pretty consistently in the last like two weeks, so I am sure he’s getting ready to say another word. You are the next closest to him for sure, I mean he loves you. Don’t tell M’s that, she’ll get upset.” Emma and Killian both laughed at her comment. “I think he wants to call you something, but he’s nearly 13 months old. He’s not about to call you ‘Killian’. He reaches for you every time he sees you, and he always babbles at you. I just think he doesn’t know. It’s not like he has someone else he’s calling ‘dada’ or anything. I know I’m rambling, but maybe you had something in mind for him to call you? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for a few days now.” Emma finished.

Killian studied Emma as she continued washing Henry. She looked genuinely nervous about bringing this up to him, and it suddenly dawned on Killian why. “Emma, love, I’m not going anywhere. You have to know that right?” Killian asked.

Emma wiped away the beginnings of tears forming and laughed nervously. “I’m just afraid, Killian. But I know you, and I know you are not going to leave right now, but-”

“Never, Emma. I am not ever going anywhere. I will always be here for you and Henry. Always.” Killian said. He watched a few tears make their way down Emma’s cheeks as she nodded, and he could tell she wanted to say something else, but he didn’t push her any farther.

_____________

“Killian told me it didn’t matter what color dress I wore to the holiday party.” Emma said, frustrated without any further instructions from Killian.

“Yeah, because Killian knows nothing about fashion and honestly could care less.” Elsa said while pulling into the shopping center. Emma asked Elsa to come with her to dress shop. Emma met Elsa a few months after knowing Killian, and the two have been close friends since.

“I guess I’ll just have to see what dresses they even have and which ones fit. I know I’m not going to wear like orange or hot pink. Probably not pink at all, it’s not really my color.” Emma said.

“I’m just excited you asked me to come! I haven’t had any “girl” time in a while between work and taking care of Liam. I swear he is so dramatic when he’s sick.” Elsa said, making both women laugh.

Two hours and four stores later, Emma came out of the dressing room finally feeling confident in her dress. Between being a larger size because of her pregnancy and low-cut skimpy looking dresses, she hadn’t had much luck and was starting to feel defeated.

“Wow, this has got to be the dress Emma! You look stunning!” Elsa exclaimed before Emma was fully out of the stall.

“Do you really think so?” Emma questioned, suddenly feeling nervous under Elsa’s gaze.

“Absolutely! Killian will have to finally ask you out on a real date after he sees you all dressed up!” Elsa exclaimed!

“I don’t want him to feel forced Elsa, that’s not why I agreed to go with him and that’s not my intention.” Emma said.

“I know that isn’t your intention Emma, but I promise you he likes you too. You guys just need to stop dancing around each other.” Elsa assured Emma.

“I don’t know Elsa. If he actually liked me more than just a friend he would have just asked me instead of making a big deal about how it was all just fake.” Emma sighed.

“He’s a bloody idiot Emma. He’s been hurt before too, and I know he thinks you don’t like him back.” Elsa said.

Emma looked skeptical. “Well do we think this dress is fine for this party?” Emma asked.

Elsa just nodded her head, knowing Emma was uncomfortable facing the truth about her and Killian.

_____________

“Alright little lad, let’s get you out of your car seat aye?” Killian said to Henry as he worked to unbuckle him from the car.

“Killian I want to put his little hat that Granny made him on!” Emma said, coming around the car to assist Killian. Although he only had one functioning hand and a prosthetic, he did a pretty remarkable job doing everything he needed for himself, and Henry.

“Alright love, I’ve got him steady so you can put his hat on.” Killian said, turning around with Henry in his arms. Henry was happily babbling and surprisingly let Emma put his hat on.

“Okay kid, let’s also get this coat zipped up. It’s freezing out here.” Emma said, blowing raspberries on Henry’s cheeks as she zipped up his small puffy coat. Henry broke out into giggles in Killian’s arms, causing Emma and Killian to join in on the laughter. They started walking towards the store, and Henry was content as could be in Killian’s arms, even snuggling his face into Killian’s neck when the wind began to blow. Henry’s cuddles amused Killian, so he started tickling the toddler who erupted into more giggles.

“Killian?!” A shrill female voice called, breaking the three out of their laughter. There was a small, petite blonde woman who stood a few feet away from them with a few shopping bags in her hands.

“Hey Tink, what brings you out to the stores today?” Killian greeted his colleague.

“Just some last minute Christmas shopping. I found out I was supposed to buy some gifts for Jefferson’s parents who are coming into town for the holidays. How about you guys? Oh, and this must be-”

“Emma! Killian’s girlfriend.” Emma interrupted the smaller woman.

“Oh Emma, nice to meet you. I’m Tink, or really Rose, but everyone calls me Tink. I work with Killian in the history department at the university. Are you coming to our faculty holiday party with Killian?” Tink asked.

“Yeah! I’m really looking forward to meeting all of Killian’s coworkers.” Emma smiled.

“And who is this little guy? I didn’t know you had a child, Killian!” Tink exclaimed.

“Oh he’s actually Emma’s son, I am-”

“Raising him as if Henry was his own. Killian’s a really stand-up guy. And Henry absolutely loves him as you can tell.” Emma interrupted. The three adults turned their eyes towards Henry, who suddenly was shy with all of the attention and turned his face into Killian’s neck once again.

“Aww, Killian, that is so sweet! And he is just adorable! You guys are so lucky to have each other!” Tink gushed.

“Yeah, we really are,” Emma said, sliding her arm around Killian’s back. Killian looked alarmed at Emma’s sudden change in behavior, but Emma just smiled to reassure him.

“Well, you two lovebirds have a great day out shopping! And I look forward to seeing you again at the holiday party Emma! Bye Killian!” Tink called, before walking away from the pair. Both Killian and Emma said their goodbyes before continuing walking towards the store.

“She’s cute,” Emma commented, finally untangling herself from Killian’s side.

“Hmm?” Killian questioned. He attempted to put Henry in the shopping cart, but Henry was not budging from Killian’s arms. Emma instead grabbed the cart as they continued on into the store.

“Tink. She’s cute. She’s friendly. She’s nice. She’s bubbly. I’m just surprised you’ve never asked her out or anything.” Emma said, fighting the jealousy she felt coursing through her veins. Killian abruptly stopped in front of Emma and the cart, causing Emma to run into him. “What?” Emma questioned his facial expression and abrupt stop.

“While Tink might be those things, she is nothing compared to you Emma.” Killian said sternly.

“What?” Emma asked, completely dumbfounded by Killian’s confession.

“Emma, surely you must know.” Killian quietly said.

“Know what? Killian, you aren’t making any sense.” Emma said, quieting her voice as well.

“You are simply stunning love, and no other woman could possibly compare to you.” Killian whispered.

“You think I’m stunning?” Emma said, holding back tears in her eyes. Emma didn’t often feel pretty or beautiful, let alone stunning. But maybe Killian telling her as if his life depended on it would make her believe that she was stunning.

“Of course love. How could you ever question such a thing?” Killian sighed, nearly exasperated that he had to spell out things about Emma that he thought were obvious.

“I mean, not a single person in my entire life has ever said anything like that to me before. And even if someone had said something remotely similar, it’s not like I trust a lot of people.” Emma said.

“Hey! Get out of the aisle! This is not a place for deep conversations! Go home for that!” A short and stout middle-aged man yelled from behind them. Upon looking at the man again, his name almost could be ‘Grumpy’ Emma mused to herself while she and Killian moved to the side of the aisle, letting the man pass. The grumpy man growled at them as he passed, which Henry tried to imitate. Both Emma and Killian apologized and tried to get Henry to stop growling, effectively breaking up their little moment. They both laughed at Henry, before continuing on their shopping trip. While neither spoke of their conversation again, it was in the back of their minds for the rest of the day.

_____________

“Yeah, we should be by to drop him off around 5:30. I’ll bring his pack ‘n play and all of his stuff so he can stay with you guys for the night, and I’ll be there to pick him up for his morning feeding tomorrow.” Emma said to David, while standing in his office at the precinct.

“Sounds great Emma. Mary Margaret and I are looking forward to some quality time with our little man.” David smiled, patting Emma on the back. She smiled and thanked him before heading out into the bullpen. It didn’t take a detective to realize that Emma and David had a special bond outside of work, but the detectives that were in their unit knew better than to comment on any conversation Emma and David had that wasn’t about a case. Emma’s partner Ruby was the only one to sometimes nag Emma over her conversations. This being the perfect time for Ruby to pry into her normally closed-off partner’s personal life. Ruby smirked at Emma as she left David’s office, and Emma just shook her head.

“Spit it out, Ruby.” Emma said with a smile.

“Dropping the little monster off at David’s? That must mean you actually have plans on a Friday night. Who are you?” Ruby teased.

“I actually do have plans on a Friday night. I know, shoot me.” Emma played along to Ruby’s questioning.

“And what might the normal home-body be doing on a Friday night that Henry can’t come and is going to stay the night at David’s?” Ruby pried.

“Going to a holiday party. You don’t really bring a one-year-old to holiday parties.” Emma said.

“Holiday party? Without David and Mary Margaret? And it’s not like we have a holiday party outside of having pizza delivered. Emma Swan, what holiday party are you going to?” Ruby asked.

“It’s with Killian’s coworkers. I get the lovely opportunity to be his ‘fake date’ for the evening.” Emma sighed, still wishing Killian would have just asked her to go with him as an actual couple.

“Oh. He didn’t ask you to be his real date?”

“No. He made himself very clear that it was just a one-time thing as his fake date since he always goes to the holiday parties alone and his coworkers mistook me for his girlfriend because I’m in some of his Facebook posts.” Emma said.

“Well, maybe it’s time you took this problem into your own hands and asked him out yourself. I mean, Killian practically fawns over you every time I have ever met the guy. And goodness knows you are head over boots for him.” Ruby said.

“Head over boots?” Emma questioned.

“We all know you don’t wear heels Emma Swan. Don’t take me for a fool.”

“Oh, well I plan on wearing heels tonight. I have no idea how that’s going to go.” Emma stated.

“Girl, you better make him swoon! Do you need help with your hair and makeup?” Ruby asked, suddenly very excited to see her partner and friend all dolled up for an evening out.

“No, I don't need any assistance. I know how to apply make-up, Ruby. I wear some every day.” Emma said.

“Alright alright, fine. You don’t need any help. But girl you better have him as your man when you come back to work on Monday!” Ruby excitedly said, before Emma’s desk phone started ringing.

“Detective Swan,” Emma answered, relieved to be through with the conversation with Ruby.

_____________

“Alright kid, I’ll see you in the morning, okay? You be good for Uncle David and Auntie M’s alright?” Emma told Henry, giving him one more kiss on the head before putting him down on the ground to toddle around. She gave David and then Mary Margaret a quick hug while thanking them again.

“You know we love watching him Emma! Go, you two have fun! Can’t wait to hear about the party over breakfast tomorrow morning!” Mary Margaret beamed.

“Breakfast? I was planning on just dropping by to pick him up.” Emma questioned.

“Oh, I figured we could go to Granny’s for breakfast so we can hear everything about how it went!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

“Just for the record, some of us don’t want to hear everything.” David grumbled.

“David! Stop being the protective big brother! Your sister is a grown adult and can manage herself just fine!” Mary Margaret scolded David.

“Thanks M’s. And Dad, we’ll be fine. Thanks for watching Henry, but we really have to get out of here if we are going to make it on time.” Emma said, before ushering her and Killian out the door and into Killian’s car.

“Sorry he’s weird. He just worries about me since the whole being-left-alone-and-pregnant thing. I mean, he’s worried about me since Ruth adopted me when I was seventeen, but it’s gotten worse since I got knocked up.” Emma said.

“It’s alright love. I know he’s just looking out for you.” Killian smiled. Emma had been through a lot of her life alone, but Killian was glad to know she had more than himself to care about and look after Emma. They drove the rest of the way in peaceful silence, before walking into the hotel where the holiday party was being held. They got on the elevator and headed to the 13th floor, where the actual party was being hosted in the event space in the hotel. Once on the elevator, Emma threaded her arm through Killian’s and gave him a soft smile.

“I never got to tell you that you look stunning, Swan.” Killian stated.

Emma blushed, before attempting to respond. “And you look…”

“I know. And thank you again for coming tonight. I hope you can marginally enjoy yourself. I mean, at least you know Belle and Graham.” Killian said.

“Yeah.Plus I met a few of them last year at your little birthday gathering. I know it’s been a while. Also, today at work Graham seemed pretty excited that I was going with you. I think he was dreading not knowing anyone but you and Belle.” Emma said as the elevators opened.

The first person Emma recognized upon walking out of the elevator was Will, Killian’s good friend and fellow history professor. Will helped throw Killian’s birthday celebration, so Emma had met him before.

“Killian! Emma! It’s bloody fantastic to see you two here!” Will said in greeting.

“Will, good to see you.” Emma said while giving him a side-hug. “How have you been?”

The party continued as well as could be expected for both Emma and Killian. No one seemed to think the pair weren’t together, besides the few that knew it was fake- Belle, Graham, and Will. Emma met all of Killian’s coworkers through the course of the night. Killian’s least favorite colleague- Walsh, was just as stuck up and obnoxious as Killian had warned. His wife Zelena, who was a physics professor, was also particularly unpleasant. Emma met Regina, the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. They ran into Tink and her boyfriend Jefferson, and Emma didn’t feel any jealousy at seeing the woman again. Tink asked a lot of questions about Henry, which Emma was happy to talk about. Emma also met Ashley, or “Cinderella” as Killian called her. Ashley and her husband Sean were kind, and Ashley seemed particularly excited to see Emma in the flesh. Ashley promptly invited Emma and Killian to come to the New Year’s Eve party she was hosting at her apartment. There was also Lancelot, a professor who focused on the history of the Middle Ages and the Medieval Time Period. Lancelot’s girlfriend Mulan used to teach history, but now focuses on her love for sports and is the Director of Athletics at the university.

Most of the evening was spent near Belle and Graham, who is a detective in Emma’s unit. Emma had introduced Belle and Graham after meeting Belle, and she was happy to see that Belle and Graham were happy with each other. Will also hung around them for most of the evening, as he was one of Killian’s closest friends and knew Emma. Most people were drinking a decent amount of alcohol, but Emma hadn’t had more than a glass of wine, and Killian had only had a glass of rum. Will, however, was quite intoxicated by the end of the evening. He was telling stories about Killian which made Killian blush and Emma laugh. Will was so caught up in his story and his alcohol that he slipped up and blabbed about Killian’s secret love for Emma.

“Yeah, well we thought Killian had grown a pair since then, but he had to beg Emma to come as his date because he won’t be a man and actually ask her out like he wants to.” Will slurred.

“Will!” Killian scolded, quickly getting up from his chair to try and stop Will from speaking.

“He’s so in love with Emma that he can’t see that maybe-” Will started again. Killian grabbed Will and physically dragged him out of Emma’s vicinity before any more damage could be done. Emma tried to ignore Will’s comments and act natural, tuning back to Belle and Graham. Not knowing what else to talk about, Emma asked Graham about the case they had been working on. When Killian didn’t come back to the table after a while, Emma excused herself to go find him. She thought he might be at the bar, downing some rum after Will spilled Killian’s secret.

After checking the bar, Emma noticed Killian was sitting at a table out on the patio, so she went outside to join him. Emma knew he could hear her approaching- her heels were not quiet- yet he didn’t turn around. She pulled out the chair that was next to him and sat down, staring out at the New York City skyline.

“You love me?” Emma questioned quietly after several moments of silence between the pair.

“Yes.” Killian responded, just as quietly as Emma. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but you and Henry mean everything to me Emma. I didn’t mean for this to go like this, I just-”

“Why didn’t you ask me out? We’ve been friends for what, nearly two years? You could have asked Killian.” Emma interrupted.

“I couldn’t risk that you didn’t feel the same. So, I have worked hard since I realized I was in love with you to pretend like I wasn’t, because I will gladly sacrifice my feelings for continuing to be friends with you and close to Henry.” Killian said with tears starting to form. He ran his hand down his face before taking a deep breath and looking at Emma. She looked surprised, and also looked like she had some tears forming.

“You traded your happiness for me?” Emma asked.

“Aye,” Killian responded matter-of-factly, nodding his head slightly to emphasize his point. Emma slowly leaned closer until her face was inches away from Killian’s, before leaning the rest of the way in and kissing Killian. After running out of breath, Emma pulled away shyly with a blush on her cheeks.

“I love you too.” Emma said simply.

“What?” Killian asked, stupefied.

“I love you, and I have spent the last two weeks wishing you would just ask me to come to this stupid party as your actual date. I don’t trust a lot of people, and I’m not good with words. But, I know that I can’t lose you like I’ve lost other people. I’ve been so afraid that you didn’t like me as more than a friend, and I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore Killian. I love you, and I-” Killian cut her off with a kiss of his own. The two embraced each other and reveled in their newfound intimacy. Eventually, the DJ of the faculty party announced that there would be one more slow song of the night, and the announcement effectively broke the couple’s passionate kiss.

“Care to dance, Swan?” Killian asked while offering Emma his hand.

“You know how to dance or whatever it is you’re supposed to do?” Emma asked.

“Of course.” Killian responded.

“Well, I’m taking off these shoes first,” Emma stated while unclasping her heels. “What am I supposed to do?” Emma asked after standing up.

“There’s only one rule: Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” Killian smirked. Emma blushed and smiled, but allowed Killian to dance and twirl her around on the patio.

_____________

“Hey, we have to check out a few addresses before I can get out of here. Do you think you could relieve the babysitter and watch Henry for the rest of the afternoon and evening?” Emma asked Killian over the phone.

“Of course love. I told you to let me watch him when I’m home, especially now that I’m done for the semester.” Killian replied before getting up from his chair and putting his shoes and coat on, preparing to go over to Emma’s apartment.

“I know, but just because we are dating now doesn’t mean you have to always watch Henry. He’s not your responsibility.” Emma said.

“He might not be my responsibility, but you must know that I love spending time with the lad. And watching him is not any trouble, love. I’m heading over now to relieve the babysitter. Text me when you are on your way home.” Killian replied.

“Okay, thanks Killian. I owe you big time. Love you,” Emma said. Killian smiled before telling her he loved her as well and ending the call.

_____________

Emma sighed as she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. She ended up staying an extra six hours trying to catch their perp before they finally caught him hiding out in an abandoned storefront. She smiled to herself knowing that Killian and Henry would be waiting for her once she got home. She quietly unlocked the door, making sure not to make too much noise in case Killian was putting Henry to bed or had just put him to bed. Emma heard Killian’s faint voice reading aloud upon entering her apartment, and followed his voice down the hall to Henry’s room. Both of her boys were so entranced by the book Killian was reading- “Papa, Please Get The Moon For Me”- that neither heard her standing in the doorway. She listened as Killian read, and saw Henry’s eyes start to droop. Just when Emma thought Henry was going to fall asleep, he suddenly pointed to something in the book.

“Papa.” Henry said.

“Aye lad, that is Monica’s Papa.” Killian responded, keeping Henry engaged in their conversation. Henry looked at Killian curiously for a minute before smiling wide.

“Papa!” Henry exclaimed, only he wasn’t looking at the book anymore. Henry’s sole focus was on Killian. “Papa!” Henry excitedly said again, before snuggling into Killian’s torso.

“That’s right Henry, that is your Papa. He’s the best Papa, isn’t he?” Emma said, making herself known to both Henry and Killian.

“Mama!” Henry squealed upon seeing his mother.

“Hey kid, I missed you today.” Emma greeted. Henry extended his arms asking to be picked up by Emma and she obliged, needing some Henry cuddles after her long day at work.

“Mama Mama Mama!” Henry babbled while snuggling his face into Emma’s neck.

“Yeah, Mama’s home Henry. Mama’s home.” Emma sighed, closing her eyes for a minute.

“Mama?” Henry said.

“Yeah kid?” Emma replied. Henry turned his head so he was looking at Killian before pointing at him.

“Papa. Mama, Papa!” Henry said.

“Yeah Henry, he is your Papa. You want to give Papa a few more snuggles before bedtime?” Emma said, trying to hold back tears that Henry finally called Killian by ‘name’.

“Papa Papa Papa” Henry babbled, reaching for Killian. Killian was silent through the entire interaction between Emma and Henry, but he was crying by the time Emma placed Henry back in his arms. Henry quickly snuggled up to Killian before falling asleep.

“Hey Papa. How was he?” Emma asked, letting her own tears fall freely at this point.

“He was good as always Swan. He called me ‘Papa’.” Killian said.

“Yeah, he did. And I can’t think of a more perfect title for you Killian. You know, you’ve been his ‘Papa’ in my eyes since the day you saved his life.” Emma said.

Emma had never felt fear like she did the day Killian called her, frantically informing her to meet him at the Children’s Hospital Emergency Room. Killian had thankfully been in his apartment that day, or Henry would have died. The babysitter was working on getting Henry to eat some soft foods, but turned away to cut another piece of banana and didn’t see Henry shove too much banana in his mouth. Henry started coughing, but ended up lodging a chunk of banana in his throat.

The babysitter had no idea what to do, and ran to Killian’s door with Henry, screaming for help. Killian immediately opened the door, saw Henry choking, and safely performed the Heimlich. The maneuver is different for an infant over an adult, and the babysitter didn’t have any training in the Heimlich for children. Killian, seeing the worry and stress in the babysitter’s face, told her to go home for the day and Killian assured her that he would take Henry for the rest of the day until Emma got home.

Once the babysitter left, Killian still felt uneasy about Henry in the aftermath of the choking incident. To be sure, he decided to take Henry to the children’s ER and called Emma on his way to the hospital. Emma immediately left work to go be with Henry and Killian at the hospital, and Emma was so relieved to find out that Henry was okay. Emma knew Killian had single-handedly saved Henry’s life, and she was not soon to forget it. From that day forward, Emma knew Killian would do anything for her son, and although she hadn’t actually talked to Killian about it, she began viewing Killian as Henry’s father.

“And, I know I told you a million times, but I feel like I never got to thank you, Killian.” Emma smiled. She walked over to where Killian was sitting in the rocking chair with Henry before leaning down and pressing her lips to Killian’s.

Killian smiled at her, before teasing Emma. “I could get used to that kind of thank you.”

“I’ll kiss you any time, but let’s not have another hospital incident. I don’t think I could handle it.” Emma said, stroking Henry’s soft light-brown hair. .

“Me neither love. That was one of the worst days of my life.” Killian reflected.

“Oh mine for sure. Let’s get this little man to bed and then I’ll really thank you.” Emma smirked.

_____________

“Mama Mama Mama!” was the first thing Emma heard in the morning. She rolled over to see the baby monitor and noticed Henry was contentedly babbling her name while sitting up in his crib. She looked at the time-6:45- an hour later than Henry normally slept in. It truly was a Christmas miracle. Emma quietly extracted herself from the strong arms around her torso and out of the bed so as not to wake Killian. She quietly made her way down the hallway to Henry’s nursery, where he was now babbling both “Mama” and “Papa” hoping for someone’s attention.

“Hey kid, good morning!” Emma greeted in a whispered sing-song voice.

“Mama!” Henry exclaimed as Emma lifted him out of the crib and snuggled him.

“Hey my baby. How’d you sleep?” Emma said, placing Henry down on his changing table so she could change his diaper. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” Henry continued to babble to her, and Emma dutifully nodded her head along and responded to some of his more question-like babbles. After changing his diaper, Emma pulled out a new Christmas onesie from the drawer.

“I think we should surprise Papa and put your new PJs on that he got you. How about thar? Should we surprise your Papa?” Emma asked Henry.

“Papa! Papa Papa!” Henry squealed.

“Yeah, I think Papa would like that too.” Emma replied, before putting his new PJs on. Once Henry was changed and clean, Emma carried him to the kitchen to turn the kettle on the stove on to make hot cocoa in a little bit. Then, she brought Henry back down the hall towards her bedroom and lightly set Henry down on her bed just as Killian opened his eyes.

“Well good morning little lad!” Killian greeted Henry.

“Papa!” Henry squealed before crawling across the bed towards Killian. Emma and Killian smiled, still not over Henry calling Killian ‘Papa’. Emma slipped back into bed under the covers before snuggling up to her boys.

“I figured we could cuddle some before starting our big day- Henry’s second Christmas.” Emma told Killian.

“That sounds like a lovely plan, Swan.” Killian smiled before pulling Emma closer to him and Henry.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. I am so glad you are here with us.” Emma smiled.

“Merry Christmas, my love. There is no place I would rather be than right here with both of you.” Killian replied. After some babbling for attention from Henry, both adults laughed.

“Merry Christmas to you too, kid. I am so glad I get to be your Mom.” Emma said, feeling more content than she had in quite some time.

----------------------

Happy Holidays @sotangledupinit !!! 🌲⛪⛄❄️☃️

“No Walsh, it is me! Maybe this whole experience has changed me, maybe I’ll never fully remember who I was before, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have always been hesitant to marry you.” Emma pressed her fist, still clutching her keys, to her chest. “I know you and Regina keep treating me like a wounded puppy, but I do remember some things clearly. I was getting away to Maine because I was stressed and confused. I was unsure of so many things, including us.”

Walsh’s face fell, as if he were finally beginning to understand. “But I thought we were so good together.”

Emma was able to smile at him. She stepped closer, and laid a hand on his arm. “You were comfortable - safe. Being with you didn’t risk my heart because my feelings were on the surface. Your proposal brought all of that into focus.”

“So what you’re saying is, you were always going to say no.”

Emma nodded, truly feeling sorry for Walsh for the first time. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember our first date or how we met, but I do remember that.”

Walsh nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping. He gave her a platonic hug, and Emma accepted it. Then he walked away from her, and when the elevator doors closed behind him, Emma sagged with relief against her door.

The phone in her jacket pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out to see text messages from her bandmates pop up one after another.

How did the appointment go? - Elsa

Did the doctor have good news? Are you getting your memories back? I’m dying with worry here! - Anna

Calling to check on you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but have you dumped Walsh yet? - Ruby

I wanna hear more about this hot vet you were snowed in with. And don’t tell me he wasn’t hot, I can read between the lines. - Ruby

Emma smiled as she scrolled through the messages. It was strange the way a brain injury worked. The moment she walked through her front door and saw her three best friends waiting for her, memories had flooded her. She didn’t remember anything but confusing feelings where Walsh was concerned, she couldn’t remember this supposed solo career Regina kept going on about, but she did remember these three amazing women. She couldn’t remember performing, but memories had returned of the times they spent together both on the road and before they hit it big. She also remembered the words to every single one of their songs. The doctor had explained to her that the brain was a complex organ. His theory was that she had retained her emotional memories, but not the details of her life.

Bizarre didn’t begin to cover it.

Emma locked the door behind her, toed off her shoes, and dropped her keys in the catch all by the door. She collapsed onto a couch that was too hard in a room that was too cold. The view of the city skyline outside her window seemed foreign. With a sigh, she moved to her bedroom, shooting off texts to her friends as she went. She slipped into a pair of comfortable pajamas, collapsed onto her bed, and grabbed the tv remote.

This was apparently her life, and she simply had no idea what to do with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Checkmate!” Liam crowed with satisfaction, but his face fell when he looked across the chess board to find Killian staring absently at the chess pieces. “Little brother? I beat you. Again.”

Killian sighed and knocked over some of the pieces in frustration. “Sorry. I guess I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

Liam frowned. “This is still about Wendy, isn’t it?”

“Emma,” Killian corrected him as he ran a hand wearily down his face, “her name is actually Emma. Emma Swan.” His hand dropped to his lap, and he studied his brother warily. “And please spare me the I told you so.”

Liam leaned back, both hands lifted in the air in surrender. “I’m not going to say that, trust me. This is a situation where I hate being right.”

Killian arched a brow. “My brother? Hates being right? Who are you and what have you done to my real brother?”

“Haha, very funny. Seriously though, I liked her. I liked how happy you were when she was here. If the situation had been different -”

Killian cut him off. “But it wasn’t. She has a life, a career, a fiance somewhere else. God, I was such a fool.”

“No, you weren’t. You were generous in offering your home to her. I was wrong, Killian. You did the right thing. I can’t believe I was so callous towards her.”

Killian drummed his fingers on the table as he regarded Liam. “You never seem to realize what an ass you’re being to the women in my life until it’s too late.”

Liam leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fisted hands. “With Milah, you’re right. When you adopted Henry, I still gave her hell. I worried a child was just another novelty to her. But then she was such a wonderful mother, then you got Alice, and . . . .”

Liam trailed off with a long sigh. Killian’s brow furrowed in shock.

“I thought you didn’t soften towards her until she got sick. Why didn’t you say anything? Try to mend things with her?”

“You know how bloody stubborn I am. I’m sorry, Killian, I would do it all differently if I had the chance.”

“I know.” Killian could never stay angry at his brother for long. He loved him too much.

“Besides, who says it's too late with Wendy - I mean Emma. She may be missing you just as much as you’re missing her.”

Killian absentmindedly picked up a pawn and twirled it between his fingers. “Doubtful. She’s a bloody rock star, for God’s sake.”

“The kids miss her too, don’t they?” “Aye.”

“She said she’d keep in touch.”

“People always say that. Then they never do.”

“Give her time. None of this can be easy.”

Killian was about to counter that Emma had no reason to think of them now that her memories had most likely returned, but before he could, there was a knock at the door. He gave his brother a confused look. It was late, and the kids were already asleep. Who could possibly be knocking? He hurried to the door, looked through the keyhole, then swore under his breath to find the view blocked by greenery. Alice had made a wreath for the door, and he couldn’t see a damn thing past her handiwork. He wrenched the door open, expecting it to be a local farmer with a livestock emergency.

It wasn’t a farmer.

“Emma,” he breathed in awe.

She smiled, and it was like the sun came out.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you call me that.”

Killian chuckled as he scratched behind his ear. “Well, I’m a bit embarrassed that I didn’t

recognize you. Let’s just say it’s mostly Radio Disney around here. And something about K-Pop which I don’t really -”

“I was never engaged,” Emma blurted out.

“Oh?”

Emma twisted her hands nervously and shrugged. “He proposed, but I never accepted.” She trailed off, her gaze darting to her feet. “It felt important for you to know that.”

“There’s no need to explain,” he told her gently. “I’m just glad you’re getting your memories back.”

“I’m not,” she said, her gaze flying back to lock on his.

“What do you mean?”

She bit on her lower lip. “I mean, I don’t have my memories back. I remember bits and pieces, feelings mostly.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Look, there’s something I just gotta say, alright?”

Killian nodded. He’d been sort of speechless anyway since he opened the door.

She licked her lips nervously before plunging in. “The doctors say I might never get my memories back. Not all of them, anyway. But I’m okay with that because what little I remember either isn’t that great or it’s fantastic.” She winced as she closed her eyes for a second. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, “but I’m still listening.”

She returned his smile with a wobbly one of her own. “Right. So, I remember that I was a foster kid. I must have been since I was a baby because that’s all I remember. I don’t remember any of the places I lived or who I lived with. All I remember is that I never had a home.”

His heart broke for her and the sheen of tears in her eyes, but he didn't interrupt.

“I remember I ran away all the time. I just figured that when you really have a home, when you leave, you just miss it. So my whole childhood, I just kept running waiting to feel that, but I never did. Then I found my band. And I got to keep running, on the road you know? But it was okay because my family was running with me. I think that’s why they’re the only people I remember. Except -”

She paused, and a look of fear flashed over her face. He took a step closer and took her hand. “Except?” he prompted.

“Except you. And the kids.” She winced again, shaking her head and laughing. “Not that I wouldn’t remember you, I mean I met you after. What I’m trying to say is . . . I miss you. When I left here, I missed it all so much. My band - the people in it - were home, but that was ending. And then I met you - and Alice and Henry. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like my life got a reset that day you found me. I want to start time, right here. With you.”

Killian searched her face, scarcely daring to believe this was real. He reached up with a shaking hand and traced her jaw with his finger.

“What about your career?” he asked softly. The last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her while she was in a vulnerable place.

She smiled at him as a single tear slipped down her face. “I never wanted that career. I loved the band - the people, I mean. But not the performing or the limelight. I just want to play and write songs on my guitar. I can do that anywhere.”

He let hope expand his heart for the first time. He cupped her face with both hands, catching her tear with his thumb.

“Stay with me?” he asked her.

Emma’s eyes crinkled at the force of her smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Killian bent slowly to press his lips to hers in a tender kiss. She sighed and tilted her head, allowing him more access. He threaded his fingers through her soft hair as his tongue lazily explored her mouth. Emma pulled back and smiled with such blinding happiness, he could hardly take it in. Then her eyes fluttered closed, and she captured his lips again. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He never wanted to let her go.

I'm an atom in a sea of nothing, looking for another to combine. Maybe we could be the start of something. Be together at the start of time.

Rolling Stone Magazine - Two Years Later:

It’s the curse, he reminded himself, forcing the reminder through the red haze of hatred and fury swimming before his eyes. Only the curse. It’s not real. 

Which did nothing to alter the hideous reality of Emma standing before him, smiling into the eyes of the creature responsible for their current miserable circumstances. The hideous reality that he had no power to stop her, to change this. Not here. Not yet. 

And so Killian did what he had always done when he found himself overpowered, outmatched, backed into an impossible corner. He survived. He forced down his pain, buried it as deep as it would go and prepared himself for action. 

It was a measure of how far he had already travelled down the path away from villainy that this action did not take the form of ripping Walsh apart, and damn the consequences. Such impulses, as temporarily satisfying as they may be, had never ended well for him in the past. The bigger picture, he reminded himself. You have a plan. Stick to the bloody plan. 

Not to mention that this realm tended to frown on violent homicide. Another thing that had taken some getting used to.

So he arranged his face into a polite smile, grateful for the hours of practice that helped it slide naturally into place, nodded at this man who had stolen so much from him, shook hands and took his leave. The moment his back was turned to them the mask fell from his face, replaced by a fearsome determination. “Henry!” he called.

The boy turned, his cheerful smile fading to nothing as he took in Killian’s thunderous expression and the straining tension in his posture. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s your mother,” Killian snarled, no longer able to keep the rage from his voice. “She’s married to Walsh.”

“What?” Henry stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and Killian hustled him along with a hand on his shoulder. “But how?”

“It’s the curse, of course. Someone has a bloody vicious sense of humour.”

“Does he know? I mean, does he have his memories?”

“I’m not sure. No, lad, don’t look!” Henry turned his head back, looking chastened. Killian put his arm around the boy’s shoulders, partly in comfort, partly to ensure he walked quickly. “We mustn’t attract attention,” he said. “What we need is to get back to the shop and reconnoiter. Marshal our resources and make a plan. Come, hurry now.” 

Arriving back at their new residence they collapsed on the sofa and sat in silence, lost in thought as the minutes ticked by. Finally Henry spoke. 

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” replied Killian, feeling frustrated and useless. “I don’t know that there’s anything we really can do, other than stick to the plan. Though it’ll be a damn sight more difficult now to pull it off.”

Henry lapsed into silence again, but his face wore the expression it got when he was thinking hard. “We need to find out how much she thinks she loves him,” he declared finally. “I think that might tell us how strong the curse is.” 

“What do you mean, lad?”

“Well, I’m spitballing a bit here, but I think we might be able to gauge the strength of the curse based on how strong the cursed relationships are.”

Killian considered that, and nodded. “All right, I’m following so far, tell me more.” 

“Okay, so like under the first curse, my granddad was married to Kathryn, but he didn’t really love her. He thought he had memories of loving her, but his real feelings were for my grandma.”

“Yes, but wasn’t that because David was in a coma and wasn’t given his cursed memories until he awoke and Regina was able to— to download them?” Killian struggled to remember what Emma had told him of the circumstances under the first curse. “So they would naturally be weaker than memories that had been created by the curse, when it began?”

“Maybe, but I think it’s because Mom was already in Storybrooke, already weakening the curse. It wasn’t just my grandparents, everything started to change when she got here. I think if she isn’t certain of her cursed feelings for Walsh then it may be a sign that this curse is weakening. We need to know that. We need to… to test the limits of her cursed feelings. To test them against her real feelings.” He gave Killian a sidelong glance, reluctant to meet his eyes. “If you see what I mean.”

“Aye. You’re saying that what I have to do is seduce a married woman.”

“Er— yeah. I guess.”

“Well, it’s not as though I’ve never done that before.” Killian sighed and ran his hand over his face and through his hair, forgetting for a moment who he was speaking with. “Though I confess I feel rather less enthusiasm for the venture than I once did. Not to mention that no version of Emma, cursed or not, is going to be terribly receptive to the idea of adultery.” 

Henry snorted a small laugh, and Killian looked at him sharply, feeling a twinge of guilt. He should definitely not be speaking so frankly of such things in front of the boy. Henry was so precocious that Killian sometimes forgot he was only thirteen. “What, lad?”

“It’s just ironic.” Henry shrugged. “You and Mom committing adultery with each other.” 

‘Indeed, though I fail to see any humour in the situation.” 

“Gallows humour, isn’t that what they call it?” 

“Ah, but when you have actually stood on a gallows with the noose around your neck, even that humour doesn’t inspire much of a laugh.” 

“Wait, you were hung?” Henry’s eyes widened in fascination. 

“Hanged, lad, and aye very nearly.” 

“Wow, okay you have got to tell me that story!”

Killian found himself smiling, cheered as he always was by Henry’s bright enthusiasm. Although he greatly enjoyed entertaining the boy with tales from his pirating days, heavily sanitised of course, the case of his near hanging was one that would not easily be scrubbed up for teenage consumption. “Perhaps later,” he said vaguely. “For now I believe we have established our plan for the moment, distasteful as it may be, and there is still rather a lot of work to be getting on with in the shop.”

“I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,” grumbled Henry. 

“No such luck, my boy.” Killian clapped him on the shoulder, forcing cheer he did not feel into his voice. “Look lively, now! We have bookshelves to arrange!” 

That evening Killian took his time falling asleep, both because his mind was too agitiated for easy slumber and because he knew Emma would be waiting for him in the dream, and he feared what he might do when he saw her. Fury still simmered like a noxious potion in his gut, and anger management had never been his forte. 

He indulged in a long shower then spent nearly two hours attempting to read, forcing his attention to remain on the pages though the words danced before his eyes and refused to be absorbed by his brain. Gradually, despite his determined efforts, his body relaxed and his eyes drifted shut and he is in their bedroom, there among the familiar beloved surroundings as though nothing has changed, as though he could stand here assailed by memories of all the times they have made love in that bed and not feel the wrenching pain of all that has been taken from him. Emma is perched on the edge of the bed, waiting, looking apprehensive. With a snarl and a wave of his hand, Killian tears them away, brings them to the living area of his new abode, an acceptably neutral venue although its edges and corners are indistinct, his memory of the place too inexact to replicate it precisely. They are firmly clothed, clad in their typical styles. They need to talk, and he does not wish to attempt conversation whilst distracted by her naked form.   

She sits beside him on the couch and says nothing, waiting for him to speak. 

“How?” he says after a long silence, his voice an agonised croak. “How can it be him? How can he be here? I thought we’d dealt with him!”

“He did say he wasn’t easy to get rid of.” 

“Emma, you pushed him off the bloody roof! He turned to dust!” 

“Maybe that doesn’t destroy them, it didn’t in the dream.” 

“Flying bloody monkeys, of all the demonic things! And now you’re married to one!”

“Curse married!” she cries, her careful composure finally breaking. “It’s not real, Killian, you know it isn’t!”

“It’s real enough when you’re living with the bastard,” he snarls, “when you believe he’s your husband.” 

“Babe, I’m—” 

He winces as the endearment he secretly adores pierces his heart. “Don’t call me that!” His voice breaks. “That’s what you called him.”

She slides closer to him, reaches for his hand. He lets her take it, though her touch burns him. “Killian, my love, my soulmate, the only man in my heart,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, but I tried to tell you. You had to have suspected this.” 

“Aye,” he says bitterly, “I suspected you may be— involved with someone under the curse, but I thought it would be Baelfire! He at least loved you once. He at least is a man. The idea of that heartless monster in your bed, touching you, touching my—”

“Shhhh,” she soothes. “Don’t think about it.” 

“How the bloody hell can you possibly expect me not to think about it!”

“I just don’t want you to dwell on it!” she says, irritation creeping into her tone, her own anger and frustration and guilt seeping through. “You know how you get when you brood. It just makes your darkness harder to fight, and I need you to stay in the light, Killian. For me and for Henry, and for yourself. We have to stick together, fight this together. But we can’t fight anything if you hold on to anger. Believe me when I say I hate this situation as much as you do— more, even, as I’m the one who actually has to live it— but we can’t stop it unless we stay strong, and stay together.”

He knows she is right, and though it does nothing to lessen his fury he is able to push it down again, and to take her in his arms. She sighs in relief, snuggling close. “I’m sorry, Emma,” he whispers. “I promised not to falter, and at the first challenge here I am, faltering.”

“It’s not faltering, you have a right to be angry. I’m freaking furious. I hate being stuck in this and I hate how much it’s hurting you.” 

They sit wrapped around each other for a long time as Killian debates whether to ask the question he needs an answer to, not wanting to disturb their pleasant moment but knowing he has to ask. He swallows hard, loathing the words as he forces them from his throat. “Do you love him?”

She buries her face deeper into his neck and he can feel tears leaking from her eyes. “I— I think so. I’m so sorry.” 

Even though he knows they are speaking of her cursed self, even though he knows none of this is her fault, he can’t stop the fury rising again, this time woven through with ugly streaks of jealousy. 

He clenches his fist, sending the dream whirling around them and they are back in their bedroom, naked, and she is handcuffed to the wrought iron headboard. She gives a startled gasp, pulls experimentally on the restraints then looks up at where he stands next to he bed. He dares her with his eyes to make something of it, knowing that she could whisk the shackles away as easily as breathing, knowing also that she won’t. She nods, and he knows she understands that he needs this, needs to work out some of his frustration and fury on her body. 

He has the hook now, sharp and gleaming in the soft light, and she bites her lip as he brandishes it. She knows he won’t hurt her, but the fact that the potential for pain is there excites her. Captain Hook excites her, and though Killian is sometimes not sure how he feels about that he is grateful that she loves all of him, even the ugly parts. 

He drags the hook up the inside of her thigh and over her mound, tickling the golden curls atop it, watching with dark amusement as she holds her breath and tries not to writhe. She wants the hook on her clit, he knows, he knows exactly how she likes to be touched with it, but tonight he is not in the mood to give her what she wants right away. He wants to torture her a bit first, wants her breathless and helpless, begging for what only he can give. 

He wants reassurance that he is the only man she loves. He knows he is, but tonight he needs to feel it.

He teases her with the hook through her curls a few moments more, applying pressure that has her squirming but not slipping it into her folds. Instead he traces patterns up her belly, around her navel then along the underside of her breast, dragging the sharp tip across her flesh just hard enough for her to feel it, not even leaving the faintest mark behind. Hundreds of years of practice have given him a finesse with this appendage, a delicacy of touch that seems incongruous to the heft and intent of the hook. She is whimpering now, though he doubts she is aware of doing so, her eyes shut tight and her hands gripping and releasing the headboard she is chained to. He brings the hook up to her nipple, circling it with the curved edge before pressing the tip into the centre of the hardened bud. She gasps, and the chain of the handcuffs clangs against the headboard as she struggles against her bonds. He applies pressure that falls just short of pain, and through the haze of her mindless arousal she forces out a single word. 

“More.” 

“What’s that, darling?” he inquires, as though he hasn’t heard her. “Do you wish me to stop?”

“No! More. H-harder.” 

His brow furrows slightly. Any harder and he will definitely hurt her, but he complies, increasing the pressure and tilting the tip until it sinks into her skin, not enough to draw blood but barely shy of it. She makes a low, keening noise he’s never heard from her before, part pleasure but part a twisted sort of yearning that springs from the same dark impulses that drove him to restrain her. She is doing penance, he realises, assuaging her guilt over hurting him by bringing pain upon herself.

Part of him wants to let her do it. Instead he pulls his hook away. 

“No—” she whines.

“Swan.” 

“Killian, please.” 

“You needn’t do this, love.”

“Yes I do, I need it—“

“Darling—” 

“Damn it, Hook! I need you to fuck me and not be gentle about it, and you know you need that too!” 

He hesitates. She is right, he is simmering with violence that needs an outlet, but he doesn’t truly wish to hurt her. A bit of teasing with the tip of his hook is one thing, actual punitive pain quite another. Killian is a broad-minded man but true pain has never turned him on. He’s known far too much of it for that. If she is determined to make amends to him —though there are none owed— she can do it simply by letting him have his way with her, putting herself at his mercy and letting him fuck her as he pleases. 

“Very well,” he says, “But we do this my way.” 

She nods eagerly and he returns the hook to her nipple, stroking its curve over the small pinprick of a bruise that has formed there, at the same time biting hard on the other breast, sucking another bruise into her skin. She thrashes beneath him, on-edge and desperate, and he chuckles against her flesh. This is the kind of pain he prefers to give her. She won’t be coming for some considerable time. 

He sucks a line of bruises along her collarbone and the curve of her neck as his hand slips slowly down her body, coming to rest between her legs. He presses the heel of it against her, rocking it gently, stimulating her clit without direct touch. Her heels dig into the mattress as she lets her legs fall apart, wordlessly begging him to touch her properly, but he ignores her plea. His cock is rock hard and aching, his hand already drenched with her arousal, but he pays them no mind, instead licking a trail up her neck, soothing the marks he’s left there, making her shiver. 

“Damn you,” she whispers, but there is no heat behind the curse. “Why can’t you just fuck me?”

“All in good time, my love.” This is torture, after all, and he is a very patient man. 

He reaches out with his mind and manipulates the dream, and shackles appear on her ankles to match the ones on her wrists, spreading her legs wide. He kisses down her belly and over her mound, nuzzling his nose into the wet curls. She is intensely aroused and she smells amazing, musky and sweet, his favourite smell in the world. He wants to bury his face in her cunt and lick it clean. Soon, he promises himself. Very soon.  

He kisses lightly over the damp hair, humming as he gets a taste of her, the vibrations making her buck her hips, her scream of frustration very nearly drowned out by the clang of the shackles against the bedframe. He waits. She is better at managing the dreams than he is, she could put a stop to this at any time, could reverse their places and shackle him to the bed. She’s done it before. But the dream remains unchanged, and he feels a rush of love for her. She understands. No one has ever understood him as she does. 

Slowly he parts her glistening flesh with his tongue and licks patterns through it with just the tip, still teasing, allowing neither of them what they truly want. She is moaning and twisting, straining to bring him closer to where she wants him, her range of movement limited by the shackles on her ankles. He licks deeper, caressing her swollen flesh with the flat of his tongue, dancing around her clit until she screams at him, damns him, and finally begs him in a broken voice to let her come.

This is what he has been waiting for. He drops a kiss onto her curls and sits up, taking just a moment to position himself before plunging his cock deep inside her. She’s so wet she squelches, and despite the tightwire tension in their bodies they both snigger at the sound. Normally the dream smoothes over such things but tonight they are both longing for what feels real. He removes the restraints as he begins to move inside her, and she wraps her arms and legs around him, blanketing him with her love and nourishing him with her strength. He thrusts hard and relentlessly, looping his hook through the iron sworls of the headboard, and she clings to him, letting him ride her, fuck her deep into the mattress. This is what they have both been craving, and it’s not long before they come, crying out in unison as pleasure engulfs them. 

They cling to each other in the aftermath. The dream never lasts long after they finish, and none of their attempts to prolong it have yet been successful. Her arms are tightly wound around his neck and she is crying again. 

“I don’t want to let you go,” she sobs. “I don’t want you to be a stranger the next time I see you.” 

His heart breaks for what feels like the millionth time, and he wonders at the resilience of the organ, how it hasn’t crumbled into dust ages ago. “I know, my love,” he says. “It hurts more than I thought it would. But we will get through this, somehow, you and I. Together.”      

She nods, but her tears are still flowing. He brushes them away with his thumb and smiles reassuringly even through his own agony, groping for the words she needs to hear. “I’ve not believed in much in my life,” he says finally, “But I believe in you, Emma Swan, and I will fight for you. I’ll never stop.” 

“I know you won’t,” she whispers. “I love you so much, Killian.” 

“I love you too, darling.” 

Killian woke with a start, as was common after a shared dream. Less common was waking to the sounds of sobbing from the other side of the wooden divider. Quickly he cleaned himself up with the tissues he’d left on the nightstand for that purpose and slipped on some pajama bottoms, slid his feet into the sheepskin slippers he’d lined up neatly next to the bed the night before, then padded silently over to Henry’s curtain. “Henry?” he said softly, wishing he had a door to knock on. “Are you all right, lad? May I come in?”

There was a moment of silence, apart from sniffling. Finally Henry replied. “Come in.” 

Killian pushed aside the curtain and approached the bed where Henry was curled, his tearstained face pressed into his pillow. 

“What’s this, my boy?” asked Killian gently, sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing the hair from his forehead. “What’s troubling you?”

“I was just thinking about my mom,” said Henry. “And how she’s stuck with Walsh and she doesn’t know what he is. And my other mom, we don’t even know what her life is like now. And my dad, I— I kind of thought he might be with my mom here, but now we don’t know where he is either, and I just feel like everything’s wrong! I’ve got three parents and none of them know me. No one who loves me even knows who I am!” He sobbed again, and buried his face in Killian’s shoulder. 

Heart breaking yet again —how could it keep doing that?— Killian wrapped his arms around Henry and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Henry,” he said. 

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” said Henry, his voice muffled in Killian’s t-shirt. 

“I would never insult you with such a deception, lad. I know I’m not really your father, but I certainly couldn’t love you more if I were.” 

“Really?” The hope in Henry’s voice wrenched at him, and Killian tightened his arms. 

“Of course. How could I not? You’re Emma’s son, Baelfire’s son. Milah’s grandson. Very nearly everyone I’ve ever loved has had a hand in making you.”

“What about Rumplestiltskin?”

“Aye, well, let’s not dwell too heavily on his contribution, hmmm?”

Henry chuckled through his tears. 

“And even if that weren’t the case, I would still love you for yourself. Your courage and your optimism and your imagination have kept me strong throughout this whole ordeal. I truly don’t know what I would have done without you. Something dreadful, no doubt.” 

“No, you wouldn’t’ve,” said Henry earnestly. “Don’t think like that. You’re not a villain anymore, you haven’t been for a long time. A villain wouldn’t have taken care of me all this time, no matter who my parents were. And I love you too. Dad.” 

Killian smiled as tears prickled behind his eyes, touched beyond measure by Henry’s faith. Sometimes the lad was just so much like Emma. He stroked Henry’s back until he fell asleep, then eased himself away, pressing a kiss onto the boy’s hair before he left. 

The next morning they awoke to rain, sheets of water pouring down the large windows of their loft, lightning and thunder cracking and booming off the distant shore. By unspoken mutual agreement and after a quick trip to the grocery store, Henry and Killian spent the day indoors, arranging the shop and preparing for the delivery they expected the next day. In the evening they cooked dinner together, baked fish and vegetables at Killian’s insistence (and which Henry no longer objected to very strenuously; once Killian learned that the spices which in his realm were valued more highly than gold could be had in this one for mere sheets of their odd paper currency, he had taken to applying them lavishly to everything he cooked, vastly improving it in the boy’s opinion) and curled up on the sofa to eat it, watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Henry’s choice. Despite everything, in that moment Killian felt happy. He wanted this to be his life: Henry and Emma and quiet days where nothing happened, no lust for revenge, no looming threats or reasons to hurt people. He missed his ship, terribly, missed the freedom of the open seas, but he didn’t miss being a pirate. It occurred to him that if he’d been able to choose all those centuries ago, that young, upright, wide-eyed version of himself, if he’d had the luxury of choosing the path his life would take he’d have chosen this. A family, a respectable career, a peaceful existence. He knew he’d done nothing to deserve it, but he yearned for it nonetheless, and was prepared to do whatever was necessary to secure it. 

The following day dawned bright and sunny, with the fresh-washed feeling that comes after a heavy storm, and Killian declared that it was time for Henry to go to school. 

“You’re all enrolled,” he said, pouring milk into two bowls of breakfast cereal. “You just need to report to the principal’s office to collect your schedule.”

Henry made an indistinct noise that Killian interpreted as reluctant consent. 

“Do you wish me to walk with you?” he inquired. 

“No, I’ll be fine. I went to that school for years, remember?”

“Aye, of course. It’s still a new start, though.” 

“Yeah,” said Henry rather glumly, mashing the cereal with the back of his spoon.  

Killian wondered what this could be about. Henry was usually quite an enthusiastic student. “Is everything all right, lad?” he asked, attepting a casual tone. 

Henry frowned and thought before replying. “Are you sure I have to go to school today?” he said finally. You don’t need me here for anything?”

Aha, thought Killian. This must be what the books called “separation anxiety,” uncommon in children as old as Henry but not unknown, and quite understandable in this case. It had been just the two of them for so long Henry was naturally reluctant to go off on his own. “I’m always glad of your assistance, but you must go to school,” he said firmly. “And don’t forget, this is part of the plan. You’re our undercover agent, collecting intelligence. Report back to me this afternoon on anything you can learn about the curse and how it’s affecting people. What their new identities are, any hint of who might be behind this. You know what to look for. Your mum and I are relying on you.” 

Henry perked up slightly at this and nodded. “I can have a spy notebook, and write things in code,” he said, his clever mind clearly already forming plans. 

“That’s the spirit,” said Killian, smiling to himself as Henry began to eat his cereal. When he’d finished he collected his backpack and permitted Killian to hug him goodbye before heading out the door, the habitual spring still in his step. Killian watched him through the wide front window, feeling a small twinge when he disappeared around the corner. He missed the lad already. Perhaps separation anxiety went both ways. 

To distract himself, he made a cup of tea and went downstairs to spend a relaxing hour setting up the accounts for the bookstore. It was something he flattered himself that he was quite good at, having discovered to his considerable amusement that running a business was in many ways not dissimilar to captaining a pirate ship. As captain he had been responsible for keeping records of their takings and ensuring that each crewmember received his fair share, while as a business owner he would need to keep records of the store’s sales and he hoped eventually pay himself and any employees a salary. On his ship he had maintained inventories of their provisions, set and enforced duty rosters, made plans for where to hunt their next take — or how to grow his business, to use the terminology of this realm. All of which turned out to be skills he could transfer to the relatively sedate task of running a bookstore. Who would have guessed that all those years he’d actually had a profession that was considered respectable in this realm, he reflected with a smirk. Of course, the reputation for ruthlessness and bloodlust he’d taken great pains to cultivate was not exactly standard procedure for businesspeople in this realm, but from what he’d read about many of the more successful CEOs his methods had been almost tame by comparison.

He was startled from his musings by the sound of the shop door opening, and a voice calling “Hello? Is anyone here?”

Kilian rose and went down to the ground floor, startled into momentary dumbness at the sight of the woman standing hesitantly in the centre of the room.