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A Story in the Life of Killian Jones and Emma Swan by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 2/2

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Part 2:

Emma turned toward him, standing in front of his hotel room, an anxious look on her face. “I need to talk to you.”

“Are you crazy? What if Neal sees you?” He pushed open the door to his room and ushered the woman quickly inside.

“I’m sorry, I know this is insane, I shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re right you shouldn’t be. Why are you here?”

The boy whined loudly in her arms. “I’m sorry, is there somewhere I can I lay him down, he hasn’t had his afternoon nap.” Without waiting for a response, she laid her son on the bed, talking to him quietly as she tucked the covers over his shoulders. He could barely take his eyes off her, watching as she ran her fingers through the boy’s hair.

She looked up at him and everything in his body threatened to shut down. “Emma, you really shouldn’t be here.”

“I’ve been thinking…” She sighed. “My parents didn’t want me.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My parent’s they abandoned me when I was a baby, I spent a lot of years in foster care, but no one ever really wanted me. When I was old enough I emancipated, moved out on my own. I’ve never really been afraid of being alone, of not being wanted…but Henry…” She looked at her son, sleeping in the bed. “I don’t want Henry to ever feel like his father abandoned him.”

“I already told you, lass, I’m not here to ruin your life. I most certainly have no intention of hurting your child’s chances either. I have no plans to reveal your secret to Neal. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I believe that, and that’s part of the reason I’m here.” She shook her head. “He deserves to know his father. His real father.”

“But that would mean…” He stepped away from her.

“It would mean that I need to talk to Neal.” She replied softly. “I know.”

“You can’t do that. It would destroy him.” A sick feeling was growing in his stomach. Neal would never forgive either of them.

“I can’t live with this guilt; I get a sick feeling in my stomach every time he looks at me.” Killian chuckled at the similarity of their feelings. “I didn’t do any of this to hurt him, I thought I was protecting him and Henry, but I have lied to him, and he deserves to know the truth.”

“You’re getting married tomorrow.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that.” She said quietly. “But I can’t walk down that aisle and promise myself to be faithful and true to him if I don’t tell him the truth first.”

“So, you’re just going to tell him the truth, and then what? You walk down the aisle, and everyone is happy?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get that far in my thought process.” She laughed.

He watched the woman from his place in the room. He was still angry at her, even though he knew she had no way of finding him anymore than he did her after they separated that night. Neither knew the other’s name, they had no way of contacting each other. But he was still angry as he looked over at the young boy asleep in his bed. He had a son and he had already missed so much of his life.

Killian had been up all night on the balcony thinking about his life, the things he had screwed up, things he had done right. Killian had spent every moment thinking only about himself, making his mark on the world, he never once stopped to think about anyone else. Sure, he had his brother, and he would do anything for Liam or even Robin and Neal, but when it came down to it, he only ever took care of himself.

But now…knowing that he had a son, suddenly things felt different. It was like the entire game had changed.

“He has my eyes.” He finally responded. “But he has your nose.”

She laughed, and when he looked up he realized she had tears in her eyes. “Sometimes when he’s sleeping, he does that thing with his jaw that you do.”

“Pardon me?”

“He clenches a bit when he’s sleeping. I remembered you doing that too…” She stared off in the distance. “That night.”

“You watched me sleep?” His brow rose when she turned to look at him.

“A bit. I had a lot on my mind. Plus, you’re kind of easy on the eyes.” He chuckled softly. “Pretty sure he got his attitude from you, that was apparent last night.”

“Are you saying I had an attitude?”

“Actually, you were kind of a dick, but it was warranted, I’m sure it was a shock last night.”

They each smiled and Killian realized how easy it was to fall into a conversation with her, the back and forth, give and take, the same reason he felt drawn to her the night at the bar. He stepped forward and offered her his hand. “Hi, I’m Killian Jones.”

She shook her head with a gentle laugh and an unsure look on her face before shaking her hand with his. “Emma Swan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Emma.” He said with a nod.

“Can you ever forgive me?” She asked, biting her lip.

“There’s nothing to forgive, love.”

“I know this is going to be awkward and uncomfortable, and hell I have no idea how Neal is going to react, but I want you to get to know him. I want that for Henry. And for you.” Her eyes shimmered with wet tears. “It’s not your fault you didn’t know and if you had, I have a feeling that things might have turned out differently.”

“I probably would have done something ridiculously stupid.” He mumbled.

She laughed, “I want you to know something…about that night.”

“Love, there’s no need to…”

She cut him off. “Yes there is. Neal and I had been dating, not exclusively, but we had been dating for about three months when I went to the conference. He had asked me to move in with him and I wasn’t ready for a commitment like that.” He leaned back against the wall, watching her face as she spoke. “Then I met you.” She looked over at her son for a moment. “I didn’t sleep with you because I was confused about Neal.” She said firmly, turning her attention back to him. “My whole life I’ve always done what I wanted, I never had to worry about how it affected anyone else.”

She stepped closer to him, and he swallowed, trying not to choke on the pit that was forming in his throat. “That night, with you, I had never done that before. You need to know that I wasn’t the type of person to just jump in bed with a stranger.”

“I never assumed that love.”

“Good.” She said with a soft smile. “But after you fell asleep, I just laid there, thinking about what I had done.”

“You regretted it?” He responded with sadness.

“No, not a single minute.” Her hand slid against his arm, and she looked up into his eyes. “There isn’t a single day that goes by that I don’t look into my son’s eyes and think of you. No matter what happened, you gave me Henry and being his mother is the single most important thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

He scanned her eyes, seeing the honesty of her words as she spoke. “If I had known about him, I swear to you I would have been there. I would have helped.”

“And that is why I want you to be a part of his life.”

He looked over at the boy sleeping peacefully in his bed and smiled. “I’d like that very much.” Turning back to her he sighed. “So, what will you do now?”

“I don’t know yet. I need to talk to Neal, try and explain all of this.”

“He won’t take this news lightly.” He warned. “I’ve known Neal all of my life. Are you sure you want to do this? We could find another way so that you didn’t need to expose yourself.”

“I won’t lie to him anymore and I can’t ask you to do it either.”

“I’d offer to assist, but I’m not certain my presence would make it better.”

She laughed again, a sound that soothed his beating heart. “This is something I need to do alone.” She walked over to her son, scooping his limp body into her arms, and depositing him into his stroller.

A look of worry washed over his face, he was certain Neal would react poorly to the news, he couldn’t blame him, if he put himself in the man’s place, he wasn’t sure he would remain calm either. “You can stop worrying about me. I’m a big girl.” She responded to his obvious concern.

“I don’t doubt that, however I would feel better if you could keep me apprised of the situation. I don’t want to walk into Neal’s fist without first knowing it’s coming.” He chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and held out her hand, when he gazed at her quizzically, she smiled. “Phone.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, handing it to her as she punched in her number and sent herself a text. When she was finished she passed it back to him. “I’ll let you know.”

He peered down at his phone and opened the text.

Killian: Hey it’s dark and stormy

He raised his brow and looked at her. “My drink order?”

“Your general attitude.” She teased, pushing the stroller past him, and reaching for the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Emma.” He watched her leaving, a nagging feeling telling him he needed to be honest with her as well. She may be marrying Neal, but she meant something to him, she always had. He reached out and gently tugged her by the arm. “That night changed me too. I may not have known about Henry but being with you that night…I thought about you often.”

“Killian…” she replied with a frown.

“Don’t fret lass, I’m not about to declare my undying love for you or anything, I just want you to know that it wasn’t just about sex for me, you were different, I never understood it, but you were. I tried to find you many times, at other conferences, on the faces of people I passed on the streets. I never stopped thinking about you, what could have been, I just…I wanted you to know that it meant something.”

“It meant something to me too.” She said with a sad smile, twisting the handle on the door and opening it.

“Hey Killian, you finally finish with that nap of…” Killian stared into the eyes of his best friend as he looked between his fiancé and himself. “Emma?”

“Neal…” Emma stepped toward him, and Neal pushed away from her.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Emma was just…” He started to explain, to come up with anything to make Neal stop glaring at him with the heat of thousand suns. Emma put her hand on his chest.

“Killian, don’t.”

“What the fuck.” Neal yelled. “Are you fucking my fiancé? You couldn’t wait to get one last jab in at your ole best friend, is that it?”

Killian swallowed. “Stop it Neal. That’s not what happened.”

“No? So, you’re just sneaking out of his hotel room, the day before our wedding because you were picking out bridal patterns?” He screamed.

“Mate, don’t shout at her.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!” He yelled, stepping into Killian’s space.

“Everyone stop shouting.” Emma demanded, stepping between him and Neal.

“I can’t believe you would do this, Emma. You’ve known him a whole day.” He glared at him. “And you, you just couldn’t wait to use that Jones charm on her. Were you that jealous that I finally got a life that you wanted to ruin it for me?”

“I would never do that.” Killian argued. “I was happy, I am happy for you. You’re my best friend.”

“Bullshit. Friends don’t do this. Not this Killian.”

“Neal, if you would please let me explain.” Emma interrupted.

“Explain what? That the day before our wedding, you just had to have one more roll in the hay, before you got stuck with my dick forever, and of course to jab the knife in further you just had to pick him. Honestly Emma, I would have accepted it being anyone else, but him. Why him?”

“We weren’t sleeping together.” Emma closed her eyes as she spoke just as Robin approached the group.

“What’d I miss?” Robin asked anxiously.

“Just my best friend having a go at my fiancé, with my fucking kid in the room.”

“Um…What?” Robin turned toward him. “I thought we talked about this last night, you were going to walk away.”

Neal narrowed his eyes. “Last night? Jesus Christ, how quickly did the two of you fuck after meeting?”

“I didn’t have sex with her, Mate.” Killian said forcefully.

“So, you’re going to stand here and tell me that you’ve never had sex with Emma?”

Killian’s jaw tensed as he looked at Emma, his eyes gazing back to Neal. “Don’t do it, Killian.” Robin warned beside him, and Killian gritted his teeth. He couldn’t lie to Neal.

“I can’t do that.” He responded, just as the fist connected with his face and he crumpled against the wall.

“Jesus Neal.” He heard Emma yell as a pair of arms grabbed him around the elbow, pulling him back to his feet.

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on.” He heard his brother’s booming voice from the other end of the hall.

“Oh good, the gang’s all here.” Killian chuckled as he spit blood from his mouth onto the ground.

“Killian fucked Emma.” Neal growled and his brother turned a disappointed eye his direction. Killian shrugged his shoulders.

“It wasn’t recent.” He growled.

“What the hell does that mean?” Neal laughed.

“It was a long time ago.” Killian heard Emma’s voice behind Neal and Neal turned to face her, the change in his direction allowed him to see the woman, tears falling down her face. “I met him at that Vegas convention that we both went to.” Robin sighed beside him. “I never meant to hurt you; I didn’t know what I wanted then. You wanted to move in, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that kind of commitment.”

Neal’s shoulders sagged as he leaned against the wall. Emma pressed forward, taking his hand. “I came back to you, I decided I needed to grow up, to take a chance so I came home, and we moved in together.”

“So, to be fair, one could say that shagging me, pushed her to you.” Killian joked, something that no one witnessing the scene found funny.

“Shut the fuck up, Jones.” Neal spat and Robin shook his head disapprovingly as if to tell him now was not the time.

“I never told him my name and I didn’t know his.”

“And you never showed us a picture of the woman you were with; I had no way of knowing my dalliance in Vegas was in any way related to you. I didn’t even know where she lived, Mate. The first time I had seen her since then was last night, I swear.”

“I don’t even know how to process this.” Neal blew out a ragged breath. “I knew you weren’t sure about moving in with me, but when you got home, you just seemed different. I never questioned it.”

“I was sure.”

“Because you had sex with him, and then suddenly you could settle for a life with me?”

“No, I just, I couldn’t be that person, the one-night stand person, I needed to grow up.”

“So, you moved in with me so you could be a responsible adult?” He asked sarcastically. “Isn’t that romantic. Here I thought you did it because you loved me.”

“I did.” She argued. “I do. I just…”

“God, I don’t feel like I know you at all. Everything I thought about our life has been a lie.”

“That’s not true, Neal.” She pleaded.

“Would you have even stayed with me if you hadn’t gotten pregnant right after we…” He paused, his hand slowly covering his mouth as if the realization was taking over, the moment that Killian had been dreading the entire time. “Oh God.”

“Neal, can we please go and…”

“He’s not mine.” He whispered, staring at the floor. “Those goddamn blue eyes.” He muttered, an angry laugh following. “He’s not mine, is he?” He asked angrily as his eyes raged with fire.

Killian dropped his head to his chest, he felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder.

“No.” Emma cried, and Killian wanted more than anything to wrap her in his arms and hold her, to protect her, but he knew that it would only make matters worse. “I’m sorry Neal, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry brother.” Killian responded quietly.

“Don’t.” Neal pushed away from the wall. “I don’t want either of you talk to me. I can’t even look at you without wanting to vomit on the floor or punch you in the face.” He growled in his direction. He marched toward the other end of the hallway as Emma sunk to her knees crying next to the stroller. Killian looked toward his brother, sadness on his face.

“I’ll go talk to him.” He said with a nod. “Take care of them.” He said to Robin.

“Emma.” He walked toward her, and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I’m fine. Please, don’t look at me like that, I’m fine. I deserved everything he said.”

“Aye, myself included, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Can Henry rest in your room? I just need to take a walk.” She said, standing and brushing herself off.

“Do you need company?” He asked sincerely.

“No. I need to believe alone, I just need to think.”

Robin nodded and Killian watched as she walked down the hallway, her arms wrapped around her waist.

~*~

Emma could feel her heart pounding in her chest, she knew the conversation with Neal was going to be difficult, but having him find her with Killian, having the truth come out the way it did was never something she anticipated.

She deserved his ire, she deserved the words he threw at her, yet it didn’t make it hurt less.

Emma knew that if she had never gotten pregnant, she may not have ever needed to bring up her indiscretion, but she could never say that she wished she hadn’t had Henry. She could live with her mistakes, she would own the consequences, but no matter what those ended up being, she would always have her son.

She loved Neal, but if he couldn’t forgive her, she could live with that as long as she had Henry.

No matter what Neal decided, she would be fine.

She walked around for what felt like hours until she wandered into the pool area. She sat down on one of the lounge chairs, staring at the water spilling over the small waterfall built into it.

“Hey Ems.” She looked up to see Neal walking slowly toward her, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he looked around nervously.

“I’m so sorry.” She said softly as the tears threatened to fall again.

“I know.” He took a seat on the lounger and exhaled. They sat in silence for a moment, neither sure what to say. “Did you always know?” He turned toward her calmly. “That he wasn’t mine?”

Emma shook her head, the tears finally leaving her eyes. “Not at first, no. Honestly, it didn’t occur to me to think anything at all…” She shook her head. “But then he was born, and he had those beautiful blue eyes and that dark hair and…”

“I always knew Jones would make beautiful babies.”

“I hoped I was wrong, I really did. But when I realized the truth, I had no way of knowing who his father was, and I wanted him to have a father who would love him, and you did love him so much.” She cried.

“Answer me something, Em.” He took her hand and held it in his. “If you could have known sooner who he was, would you have still chosen me to be his father?”

“I…” She didn’t know how to answer that question. She realized last night that it would be wrong to keep Killian from knowing his son, that it would be unfair for Henry not to have the chance to know his father. “You don’t have to be his dad for him to love you like one.”

“But would you still choose me? You were so unsure about us moving in together. You ran, like you always did, and you ran into another man’s bed. Without Henry, would you and I still be together?” His voice was low, and calm.

“I do love you.” She replied, choking back her tears.

“I know that Em, but you didn’t answer the question.” He said with a laugh. “I think it’s because you already know the answer.”

“I came home to you, I didn’t know I was pregnant then, I still came home to be with you.” She sobbed.

“And how long would that have lasted? Vegas scared you. Being with Killian scared you, so you ran back to me, to safety.”

“No. I wasn’t scared, I realized I needed to take responsibility, be a grown up. That’s what being with Killian did for me.” He smiled, running his hand across her cheek.

“I don’t want you to be with me because it’s the right thing to do. I want you to be with me because there’s nothing else you want in the world except for me. To know that you can’t picture your life any other way.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not. Losing you isn’t fair either.”

Emma choked back her tears. “What are you saying?”

“I love you, Ems, I’ll always love you, but…” She felt her heart crumble in her chest. “I don’t know if I’m a big enough man to look in that boy’s eyes and know he’s Killian’s every single day and not feel like I’m having a knife stabbed in my chest every time he stares back.”

“He can still be your son.”

“I’m not walking out of his life. I’ll always be there for Henry, and after I learn to be ok with this, I’ll be the best Uncle I can be, but I’m not there yet.”

“What about us? I swear to you, I never looked at another man once we moved in together.” She cried.

“I think we need some time...”

“I don’t want time, I want you.” She begged.

“And if you still feel that way after some time apart, then we’ll talk. But right now, I can’t be with you.” Emma’s tears pooled in her eyes, she felt heartbroken and embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, we’ll talk alright. Whatever happens, you’re gonna be alright.” He stood up, looking at her one more time. “I’ll contact all the appropriate people and make the cancellations, just take care of Henry. I’m gonna stay at the office for a while, you take the apartment. I’ll come see you in a few weeks.”

“I don’t know how to do this.” She cried.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, don’t count yourself out yet.” He walked away, disappearing around the corner before Emma sunk down into the lounger, covering her face as she sobbed.

~*~

Killian watched the boy playing in his stroller, the way his lip turned up when he smiled, the sparkle of his blue eyes.

“How’s your eye?” Robin asked from the bed.

“I’ll live. He should have hit me harder.”

There was a knock on the door and Robin got up to open it. Liam walked through the door and nodded at Robin. When their eyes met, Killian looked at the ground. He was sure his brother had to be disappointed in him.

“He’s have a conversation with Emma now.” Liam announced. “Had to do a lot of talking to make that happen instead of what he wanted to do.”

“What’s that?” Killian asked.

“Kick your ass.” He laughed.

“You should have let him.” He exhaled.

“Cut the martyr shit. The way I see it you had sex with a woman at a convention center. Nothing villainous about that.”

“He’s been raising a kid that he thought was his for two years.”

“Which you knew nothing about, right?”

“I wouldn’t have lied to him about that for two bloody years.”

“Alright then, that’s the end of it.” His brother said matter-of-factly.

“Mama.” The boy babbled from his stroller. “Want mama.” He said with a frown, tears threatening in the angry corners of his eyes.

Killian looked at Robin and Liam for assistance. “He’s your kid.” Liam shrugged.

“I don’t know what to do with him, I’ve been a dad for all of 24 hours.”

“Then you better figure it out fast.” Liam said, raising his brow, a look that told Killian that Liam had expected that Killian would be taking his responsibilities seriously from now on.

Killian bent down, pulling the boy from the stroller. “Ok lad, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing here, so I’m gonna need you to work with me here.” He held the toddler against his chest.

“Mama.”

“I know, she’ll be back soon, right now you’re stuck with me.” He laughed.

“Maybe that’s the cause for his angst.” Robin joked and Liam gave him a disapproving nod.

“I’m Killian.” He announced to the boy. “You don’t know me yet, but I’m hoping we can be friends.” He spoke softly and the child stopped crying as if trying to hear his words. “I know I haven’t been around before, but I promise I’m not going anywhere.” His mouth was set in a frown, large beads of water sat on his chubby cheeks from the tears he had shed.

The boy reached out and put a hand on Killian’s cheek and he felt his heart stop.

There was a knock on the door and Liam stepped back to open it. Neal was standing on the other side of the door. Killian supposed it was a good thing he was holding Henry, at least this way he was certain Neal wouldn’t strike him while he was holding the lad. They made eye contact and Killian suddenly felt guilty for holding Henry, his heart broke at the way Neal seemed to shrink from the sight of seeing Killian holding the boy he had thought until today was his son.

“I think we need to talk.” He responded, and Killian nodded.

“Aye.”

“Let’s get something to eat.” Liam announced, smacking Robin lightly on the back. “No fighting.” He lectured them both as if they were children. When the door closed behind them, Killian walked over to the stroller and set Henry into his seat.

“You have no idea how much I looked forward to you meeting him, and now…” He sighed. “Now seeing you with him…”

“I’m sorry, Neal, I truly am.”

“All our lives you beat me in everything, you were the first to walk, said your first words earlier than me, took the prom queen to the dance…”

“None of that was a competition.”

“Maybe not to you, remember Sandy Griffins?” Killian shook his head that he didn’t. “Of course you don’t, because she didn’t mean anything to you, but she meant everything to me. She was the first woman I ever loved, I waited for her at the coffee shop every day for a year waiting to ask her out. And then out of nowhere, she shows up with you.”

“Ever think that maybe if you had spoken to her in that year instead of just watching her, you might have gotten to her first?”

“It never mattered, you were the one who could draw, you became the architect, and I was always just the other guy.”

“I wasn’t out to get you, Cassidy.”

“Maybe not, but this time, this time I won. I found the most amazing woman I had ever laid eyes on, and she was mine. And I made sure she stayed mine. I kept her away from you. And finally, I had the life, a woman I was going to marry, and a boy, a beautiful perfect baby boy who was all mine!” Killian sighed sadly. “And somehow you took all of that away from me again.”

“Why did you never talk to me about how you felt before? I’ve always loved you like a brother; I have never held ill will or malice toward you. But you have to know that if I had known that Emma was your girlfriend I never would have pursued her.”

“And yet here we are.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Leave. Go back to England and never come back. Stay away from Emma and Henry.” He spoke in an even but flat tone. Killian stared at his friend before looking down at the boy in the stroller.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

“Not even to save our relationship?” He asked.

“You’re my brother and I love you, and I’m sorry for what this has done to you, I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now, but I won’t abandon the boy. I may not have been there when he was born or been able to watch him grow like you have, but I am the boy’s father, and I would never walk away from that responsibility.” He paused. “Even for you.”

His jaw tensed and then he pushed away from the wall, causing his body to tense. “Good.” Killian shook his head in confusion. “You’re right, you haven’t been there. Did you know that Emma was in labor for 23 hours with him?” Killian gestured that he didn’t. “It was a hell of a pregnancy, she was sick most of the time, and when she went into labor she wasn’t even sure she could get through the ordeal. But Emma’s a strong woman and even after 23 hours she kept her strength and Henry was brought into the world at three o’clock in the morning. I took one look at him, and I knew I would protect him for the rest of my life.”

“I’m not trying to take your place.”

“I know. But he’s gonna need his father, and don’t you dare let anything, including me, ever get in the way of you being there for him.” He wrapped his arms around Neal’s back and embraced him. When they finally broke the hug, he looked at the man.

“So now what?”

“Now I go lick my wounds and figure out who I am.”

“What about Emma?”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“She came home to you; she chose you to be Henry’s father.”

“I know, but there’s something I learned about Emma a long time ago. She has a fear of being abandoned, did you know her parents left her when she was a child, just tossed her out like she was trash. Emma would never want that for her son. She would have stayed with me even if it wasn’t her choice.”

“But you were her choice.”

“Yes, her only choice, because she couldn’t find you.”

“That’s not fair, we spent one night together, that doesn’t mean that my being in her life would have made a difference in whether she choose you or not.”

“Perhaps not, but a part of me will always wonder.”

“But you love her.” He argued.

“You know me, I’m a selfish prick, I love that woman, but if I have to wonder if she loves me as much as I love her, the moment I question that, it’s never going to be enough.”

“So, you’re just going to end things with her? Just like that, the day before your wedding?”

“Don’t get too excited, I’ll still kick your ass if you pursue her right now.” He said seriously.

“You really think that little of me?”

Neal sighed. “She’s an amazing woman, I wouldn’t blame you for going after her, I’m just asking that you don’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen between her and I, but I’d like to have the opportunity to figure that out. You’re Henry’s father, there’s nothing I can do about that, but until an hour ago, she was going to be my wife.”

“You have my word.”

“Now…” He said with a laugh. “I think I’m going to drown my sorrows in beer.”

“You want company.”

“Not tonight, maybe next time.” He said with a smile that told Killian that even though things felt awful now, eventually they would be ok.

He walked over to Henry’s stroller and ruffled the boy’s hair. “He really does look like you.” He smiled widely. “Poor kid.”

And with that, Neal walked out the door.

~*~

Emma wandered the grounds of the hotel for what felt like hours, she knew she needed to get back to her son, to go home and pick up the pieces from the explosion that was her life. She felt emotionally numb by the time she found herself standing in front of Killian’s hotel room. She knocked on the door and waited until she saw his face on the other side of the door.

“Are you alright, love?”

“I’m honestly not sure right now.” She laughed. “But I will be.”

She stepped into the room, seeing her son sitting on the floor surrounded by a mountain of pillows and blankets. She caught his eye and laughed. “I wasn’t sure if it was safe for him to roam.”

She sat down in the middle of the pillow fort and covered her eyes. The little boy laughed and grabbed her hands away from her face. “Mama pee a boo.” She laughed, scooping the boy into her arms, and squeezed him tightly. “Too much.” He complained and Emma released him with a giggle.

“Sorry baby.”

“What will you do now?”

“Well, the wedding is off.” She sighed. “Not that I should have been surprised by that.”

“Aye, I heard. I’m sorry.” She stood up, looking at his face.

“Does it hurt?” She touched his eye and he winced.

“Just my pride.” He joked.

“So, when do you go back to London?”

“I have to do a presentation on Sunday for an important client, my flight leaves tomorrow morning.”

She shook her head and exhaled. “Well, I hope you’ll keep in touch. I did mean it; I want him to know his father.”

“Aye, I was going to talk to you about that.” He paused. “I do have to go home for a short time, but I would like to return, have an opportunity to get to know the lad. If you’ll permit it.”

“I would like that, but doesn’t your brother need you at home?”

“I think he can manage without my physical presence. I haven’t taken a vacation in years.”

“As long as you are sure, I don’t want to be the cause of any more problems for you.” She said seriously, not wanting to inconvenience the man’s life further after upending everything he knew in the span of 24 hours.

“You’ve given me the opportunity to get to know my son, you’re trusting me with something so precious to you, and I don’t intend to let you down.”

She felt the tears slide across her cheek, afraid that she was about to break down again, not wanting to show that kind of weakness in front of the man in the room. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to hold it together here.” She laughed, looking up to see him walking toward her. She tensed when he reached her.

“Even the strongest woman is allowed to fall apart now and then.” And without another word, he wrapped her in his arms and held her against his chest. For the first time that day, Emma let someone else be her strength as she released all of her weight against him, letting the tears fall freely. She allowed him to lead her to the corner of the bed, pulling her down on his lap as she released the remaining grief and anger of the last few hours, letting the stress fall free from her.

She didn’t know how long they sat like that, how long she allowed him to brush his fingers through her hair, to whisper reassurances against her scalp. She didn’t know why she even allowed a man she had barely known for more than a few days to see her so vulnerable; she only knew that she didn’t want to feel alone.

“Mama, up.” She turned her head to see her son pulling himself up to stand beside her. Emma simply reacted, lifting her son into her lap, and kissing the boy’s cheek. It was only then that she realized how ridiculous the moment was. Holding her son while she sat in Killian’s lap on his bed in the middle of his hotel room.

She looked up, meeting his eye as his dark orbs looked through her, his hand drawing lazy circles against her back. “I uh…”

He cleared his throat, moving his arm, giving her the opportunity to remove herself from his embrace. “Yeah, it’s getting late, I’m sure the lad is tired.”

He helped her put Henry’s things into the stroller and walked her to the door. Emma turned before she reached it. “Killian…” She paused when she realized how close he was to her. “I don’t know that I can give you anything more than the chance to know Henry. I mean, I just ruined one relationship before I could walk down the aisle, I’m not sure that I’m going to be ready for anything besides friendship.”

“I get that you find me devilishly handsome, striking one might say, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to control yourself around me, love.”

“Ok smartass.” She smirked, pulling the door open and pushing the stroller into the hall. “Don’t be a stranger.” She remarked before making her way back to her empty apartment.

~*~

A few years later

“Happy birthday to you.” A chorus of voices sang to the boy at the table.

“Make a wish baby.” Emma told her son and Killian watched him blow out the candles, his eyes squeezed shut. He could hardly believe the boy was turning four.

“What did you wish for, lad?” Killian asked the boy.

“I can’t tell you that, daddy.” The boy giggled when Killian lifted him out of his chair and blew kisses against his neck.

“Ok, put him down before he pukes up his pizza.” Emma swatted at Killian as she brought the plates to the table. “Do you want cake, Neal?”

“I’m watching my weight, Ems.” Neal joked as he pressed a hand to his stomach.

“Watching it go where?” Killian remarked with a wink.

“Bite me, Jones. I’m serious, I’ve been going to the gym five times a week lately. You might want to step inside one now and then, those jeans are looking a little tight.” Killian waited until Emma turned around before flipping Neal the bird.

“Would you two make yourself useful and deliver these to the backyard.” She passed a plate to each of them and pushed them out the backdoor.

“Women.” Neal remarked loudly before she shut the door behind them. “We’ve got cake.” Neal announced to the men in the backyard.

“Finally.” Robin took the plate from Killian’s hands and dug in immediately. “Did Em make this?” Killian rolled his eyes as the man spoke with his mouth full, sitting down in the seat across from his brother.

“Store bought, when do you think Ems would have time to bake?” Neal joked. “I swear she hasn’t stopped working for two months straight.”

“Someone should give her a day off.” Killian stated loudly as he popped the cap on his beer.

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” Liam responded. “She always cancels it.”

“Who needs a vacation when I have you guys.” Emma’s voice interrupted them, with Henry running through the backyard holding a small sailboat in his hand and a cowboy hat on his head.

“Look what dad got me.” Henry announced, holding the boat up proudly in his hands.

“That’s a pretty neat ship there, lad.” His brother inspected the small boat.

“Where’d you get the cool hat, son?”

“Uncle Neal.” He said loudly. “You wanna try it on?” He pushed the hat into his hands and Killian slipped it onto his head.

“You’re head’s too big, daddy.”

“You’re just not cool enough for the hat, Jones.” Neal teased, lifting Henry into his arms, and running through the yard with him.

“You want to go out tonight?” Robin asked when it was just he and Killian left at the table. Killian looked across the yard at Emma throwing away plates of food.

“I think I’m just gonna help clean up here and head back to the hotel. I have a couple projects I need to complete. Wouldn’t want the boss to fire me if I miss my deadline.”

“All work and no play, brother.” Liam said with a wink.

His eyes continued to follow Emma who was watching her son play with Neal with a soft smile on her face. Killian could hardly believe how much his life had changed since finding out Henry was his.

The first few months had been awkward and sometimes quite explosive. While Neal was accepting of his inclusion in Henry’s life, he wasn’t always accommodating. Killian had been true to his word, while he still lived in London, he made sure to visit the boy a few times a month. Flying back and forth was exhausting and after a few months he realized he couldn’t keep up at that pace.

He had begun spending every other month in the states, doing virtual presentations to complete his job tasks and then returning to London and keeping up with Zoom calls to Henry and Emma. It wasn’t always easy, but Killian was determined to make it work.

Spending time with the boy had been more rewarding than anything else he had ever done in his life. The first time he called him daddy, Killian thought his heart had stopped. It was the greatest day of his life.

Emma had been very helpful in learning the new role of being a father, she was always patient with him, always offering tips when Henry wasn’t looking to assist him in doing the right thing. He admired her for the way she was raising the boy on her own. Even if Neal and Killian were always around to take turns watching him when she had to work, or even just spending the day with him to allow her to sleep, Emma was always taking care of her boy.

He had been the one to suggest to his brother to hire Emma on as a designer for the firm. She was working day and night for half the pay at the company she was employed by, and Killian knew that working for his brother would allow her medical insurance and benefits for her and Henry. The move had paid off, Emma was a great asset to the company, she was very talented, though she said it had more to do with her adding a woman’s perspective to a company full of men.

Either way, Killian was happy to have her, even if it was not in the way he wanted to have her. Killian had made the promise to Neal not to pursue Emma while they were figuring out their relationship and he had kept his word. As far as he knew, Neal had begun dating other women, maintaining a relationship with Henry as “Favorite Uncle” just as he had promised.

Emma did not seem concerned with Neal’s dating, nor did she seem interested in dating anyone herself.

Killian had spent so much of his time focused on his son that women had become something of a non-issue to him. He had no time to focus on anything besides his son…and Emma. They had become good friends during the past few years, he had even spent the night at her new home on multiple occasions while visiting Henry. After many nights spent on her couch, the next visit he found a portable bed set up for him in the office.

They had flirted on occasion, usually after nights of having a couple of drinks after work, but never anything that crossed the line between them. Not that he hadn’t thought of it, he had on many occasions, but never acted on it for fear or ruining the peace they had found in their little family.

“You know, Neal is bringing a woman with him tonight. Tamra I think is her name.” His brother interrupted his thoughts.

“I don’t think I’ve heard her name before.”

“I met her last time we visited, but I think it might be serious this time.”

“Interesting, he never mentioned her.” Killian said with a shrug.

“Well, I think he’d like to sire his own children eventually without your assistance.” Robin joked and Killian laughed loudly. “You sure you haven’t been with a woman lately, perhaps he’d better show you a photo of his date before they take this any further.”

“Very funny, Mate.” Killian growled.

“My point has been lost.” Liam continued. “It appears that Neal has moved on, which leaves other options open to you.”

“Other options?” Killian asked with a raise of his brow.

“Perhaps with the boy’s mother?”

Killian frowned and turned his attention toward Emma. “I’m uncertain how to navigate through those dangerous waters.”

His brother stood, watching the scene in front of them. “A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”

The rest of the evening his brother’s words resonated in his brain like a clock that wouldn’t stop ticking in his ear. He had a choice, do nothing, and let everything continue how it was, a peace between Emma, Neal, and himself. Or pursue an opportunity with Emma, and risk upending everything they had built.

He lifted the garbage bag out of the trash can, tying it off and walking it to the curb. When he returned to the house, Emma was standing at the sink washing dishes. “I think that’s all of it.” He announced and she turned toward him with a smile before returning to the task at hand.

“I just put Henry down if you want to catch him before he’s asleep.”

He nodded and walked to the back room, peeking into the room at his son. “Hey kiddo, did you have a great birthday?”

“The best.” He beamed happily. “Are you leaving?”

“Aye, as soon as the house is back in ship shape order.” The boy frowned. “But I’ll be back tomorrow before I leave for my flight.”

He sat up in his bed as Killian approached him. “Why don’t you live here?” Killian had always expected this conversation, though he wasn’t prepared with how he would respond.

“Well, my work is in London.” He sat down next to his son.

“But I’m here.” He said with a whine. “And mommy.”

“I know, and I’ll be back to see you next month.” He ran his hands through the boy’s hair, a frown forming on the child’s face.

“But I’ll miss you.”

Killian’s heart broke seeing his son upset, he would do anything in the world for the boy not to see him hurt. “I know Henry, perhaps I can convince your mother to take a vacation and you could come and visit me in London, would you like that?”

He smiled brightly, “Would I get to fly?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned over and kissed the boy on his head, laying him back against his pillow. “Now get some sleep, it was a busy day for you today.”

“I love you daddy.”

Killian smiled, kissing the boy’s forehead. “I love you too, my boy. Have pleasant dreams.”

He stepped out into the hall and found Emma standing against the wall. “Now he won’t stop talking about flying for a month.” She said with a smile.

“Sorry if I overstepped, but I would very much enjoy it if Henry came for a visit.”

“I think he would like that too.” She said, handing him a glass, he took a sip and smiled.

“Dark and stormy, haven’t had one of these in a while.” He followed her to the living room and took a seat next to her on the couch.

“I’ve been thinking…”

He narrowed his eyes. “I hope it didn’t hurt too much.”

She pushed her shoulder against his with a small laugh. “What if Henry and I came to stay with you next month?”

“You’re serious?”

“Liam has been bugging me about coming to visit headquarters, he has a few clients he wanted to get me in touch with over there, thought it might be a good time to do it.”

“So, you’re just coming for business purposes?”

“And so that Henry can visit you, unless you know of any other reason for me to visit?”

He swallowed, watching her eyes dance playfully as she stared at him. “Perhaps if you had a friend with knowledge of the town, he might give you a tour.”

“I have plenty of friends in London.” She said with a shrug.

“Maybe a friend with a bit more intimate knowledge of…” He leaned toward her.

“What if I was interested in something a little less friend and a little more intimate.” His eyes widened and a smirk grew on his face.

“That depends, love.” She frowned, glaring at him. “Do you intend to give the gent your name first?” She slapped him on the shoulder, shoving against him playfully, and his hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her against him as his lips captured hers. Kissing her was different than he remembered, not the act itself, but the feeling that immediately overtook him when she returned the kiss with passion. It was like electricity attacking his spine, and the rate that his heart was pounding in his chest was faster than he remembered.

When they pulled apart, she kept eyes closed, her tongue gliding against her lips as if she were savoring his taste. When she finally opened her eyes, she was staring at him with uncertainty, as if she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say next.

“That was…” She blinked slowly as if caught in a trance.

“Worth the wait.” He finished. “Though I would have waited a lifetime if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why? All these years you never even attempted to hit on me.” She asked seriously.

“You’re the mother of my child, my best friend’s ex, a co-worker, and the love of my life. Do you have any idea how hard it is to navigate through that kind of storm?”

“I’m sorry, can you back up a minute, I’m what?”

“Mother of my child, my best friends…”

“Not that part!”

“You’re the love of my life.” He replied honestly. “I never wanted to push you in one direction or the other, I told you I would be here for you as a friend and I meant it, but that hasn’t stopped me from falling in love with you. You are incredibly talented, a hard worker, a beautiful woman. Believe me, I’ve tried not to develop feelings for you, but watching you each day with our son, the way you care for him, how deeply you love, I couldn’t stop myself.”

She launched herself into his arms, her lips attacking his mouth, his jaw, it was as if she were enveloping him in her embrace. Suddenly she pulled back, her eyes dark and wanting. “Hi.” She said softly and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Hey.”

“Not to sound too forward, but I find you very attractive, perhaps even striking, and the accent is sexy as hell. I was thinking maybe you’d want to spend the night with me?”

“That’s mighty presumptuous of you, love?” She bit her lip. “However, while you are correct in your assumption, I was actually hoping it would be more than just the one night.”

“How long were you thinking?” She asked with a look of hope in her eyes.

“However long you’ll have me, Emma Swan.” He grinned.

“I’m thinking it might be a long time, Killian Jones.” She smirked.

“Aye, that it may.” Lifting her from the couch, he carried her to her room knowing that tomorrow she would wake in his arms, and they would start a new chapter. A chapter of family, a chapter of forgiveness, a chapter of love in the lives of Killian Jones and Emma Swan.

#stacy's fics #a story in the life #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan modern au #captain swan #captain swan fics #captain swan au

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defenderrosetyler · 3 years

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APHS: Chapter 4

A/N: Chapter 4 is finally here! Thanks to @flamencodiva for my Beta as well as some ideas! She also has a companion fic to this! The Frog Princess! WC: 2162 TW; Blood Mention

Storybrooke Time seemed to pass rather quickly since Graham’s death. Emma had become a permanent resident in Storybrooke, taking over Graham’s position as Sheriff of Storybrooke. Back at home, Sam was still arguing with Ruby. What did this woman not understand? Sam didn’t want to be with her anymore, especially when Sam heard that she had been sleeping around with other men. Besides Sam’s constant arguments with Ruby, which were growing annoying and tiresome, Sam was attempting to try and repair what relationship he had with Y/N. He’d noticed Dean was trying to help out Amaya, the young woman who owned the Amphibian Emporium. He knew that those two had a rocky relationship, especially when the brothers had dinner at Granny’s as usual when they weren’t eating at their own apartments after a long day’s work.

“How are things with Y/N?” Dean asks, changing the subject of Sam talking about him and Amaya. The elder brother knew Sam was finally kicking Ruby out of his apartment and made him feel a little better. Yes, Sam and Y/N had their arguments. Hell, even he and Amaya had arguments, but something told him there was a connection between Sam and Y/N. “Haven’t really spoken to her since she came into Granny’s the night Graham died.” He admits with a shrug. “You still having those crazy-ass dreams?” Sam asks his younger brother. Dean had been having nightmares and hearing voices when he slept at night. Sam didn’t want to tell anyone yet, but he had them too. The dreams he had were different from Dean’s. But both of them had been spending more time with the Mayor’s son. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, desperately wanting to change the subject. “I picked up extra work,” He commented. This made Sam blink his eyes. “Besides working at the garage and working as a sub gym teacher, you picked up another job?” Sam asks in shock. Dean hesitated a moment too long, which made Sam sit up a little straighter in his chair. “This is the part where you tell me where you're working?” Sam huffed impatiently. “Yes, I took another job,“ Dean mutters after several moments of silence. Trying to brush off the subject.

The anger in Sam's face radiated with heat. Yes, they had funds to owe Rowena, but now Dean had to get another job? “Listen, don't worry about me, Sam, alright?” Dean replied with a simple shrug.

“You-You’re kidding, right?” Sam scoffed, running a hand over his face in an attempt to calm down his temper. Dean was clearly trying to brush him off, but Sam wasn't letting him hide a secret from him.

“What on Earth could you possibly be doing to help with work, Dean? I'm already busting my ass as it is, with what little work I have.” Dean was now starting to become irritated now. His own face grew warm as his anger built. Why wouldn't Sam drop this?

“You said don't worry about you?” Sam continues, seeing Dean's face change, hoping this push would be what he needed to say to get Dean to tell him why he took on extra work. Dean's arms crossed his chest. Clearly, he wasn't revealing why.

“Dean, I'm your brother!” Sam says, raising his voice into a yell. “Why won't you tell me?”

Dean's eyes narrowed, his chest rising and falling as he took shaky breaths. “Just drop it, Sam!” He says through clenched teeth.

Sam wasn't dropping this. Crossing his own arms, Sam's hazel eyes stared into his brother's emerald green ones. Waiting for an answer. Dean stood his ground. Being family was one thing, but did he have to reveal every little part of his life to Sam? Sure, Sam had secrets from him. Why couldn't Dean have this? Seeing that Sam wasn't standing down either, Dean scoffed, glaring at him.

“The other job is because Amaya needed my help.” Dean says irritably, “She was behind on her rent, and Gold was threatening to shut her down!” Sam stood from his chair, pulling at his hair. Groaning both inwardly as well as vocally. “Is this because you can’t keep your promises to her?” He says with a scoff. “Or is this you trying to impress her, now that she’s with Trenton and not you?” Dean groaned, rolling his eyes before standing to switch all the garage lights off. His body tensed hearing his name. “Do me a favor, Sammy?” Dean says, in a miffed tone, “Worry about your own life for once and work on getting Ruby out of your apartment.” Apparently, this topic was closed for the time being. ------ Enchanted Forest “Gabriel was looking for you,” Bobby, the stable master, says as he watches the younger prince approach riding Onyx. Sam felt exhausted from riding from the Charmings. Hearing that the Fairy, who was head of Winchester Castle archives, was looking for him? Hopefully, he was bearing good news. On his way to the archives, however, his mother and father apparently had other ideas. His father cleared his throat as his younger son passed by without greeting. With an internal groan, Sam turned to greet his father, bowing as a sign of respect, even if it was just a nod of his head. “Samuel, I have someone I would like to introduce you to,” John says, placing a welcoming hand on the woman who stood beside him. The woman had brunette hair that fell just above her breasts. Her gown was a deep burgundy red in the Irish style that flowed to the floor. It was laced in the front with black ribbon trim. The ends of the sleeves, on both elbows, down the front in a thin line dropping from the neckline, were covered in a soft black fabric.

On top of the black material were delicate silver swirls, making the dress shimmer in the sunlight. The brunette gave a short yet polite curtsy as John introduced her, “Son, say hello to Princess Ruby of Avrinyth on the Isle of Dagua.” “A pleasure to meet you, your highness.” Ruby greeted, giving Sam a bright smile. “Your father had told me so much about you in his letters, but let me assure you, your portraits do not do you justice. You are more handsome in person.” She says in almost a flirtatious tone. Sam cleared his throat, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He knew that Ruby had a reputation for sleeping with other men and even being a mistress for some of them. Then again, those are just rumors possibly, but who knows. Sam had other things to worry about right now. Still, remembering his manners again, Sam gave a short yet polite nod. “Forgive me, Princess Ruby, but I have a meeting that I’m late for.” He says, moving to rush off before his father could stop him Watching his youngest son run off down the corridor, he sighed, hanging his head as he looked apologetically at Ruby. “I am so sorry for my son’s behavior. It appears that his mind is still hooked on making sure Odette returns back to the palace alive. He claims to have found her but has no proof to his claims.” Ruby offers the king a kind smile, but something seems a bit off to him. The way her eyes shined, almost mischievously, had King John wondering if Sam had the right idea about her. “First loves,” the princes said, “are very hard to forget, Your Highness.” The king couldn’t help but agree as he turned to face his wife, “indeed they are, young Princess. Indeed they are.” “John, why don’t you have one of the guards escort the princess to her room? Allow her time to get settled in from such a long journey.” After a pause, seeing the same glint in Ruby’s eyes as her husband had. “We’ll all meet down for dinner shortly.” Mary smiled, linking her arm with her husband. The king cleared his throat, nodding at one of the nearby guards. John and Mary left with a slight bow in Ruby’s direction before leaving towards their chambers. Once alone, John cleared his throat, keeping his gaze forward as he talked in hushed tones to his queen. “Her reputation precedes her,” John says, clearing his throat, “She is indeed a beautiful woman, but there is also the rumor about her sharing another man’s bed.” “That rumor may be true, but we have our kingdom to worry about,” Mary adds, stopping just outside their door before heading inside. “Dean will take over, you know this, Mary,” John sighed. “I have a feeling that our eldest will help bring another kingdom into our fold.” Mary blinked in a bit of amazement, finding herself speechless as she looked at her husband. “John, you honestly believe that the kingdom of Irinica will agree to such a match?” Opening the door to their chambers, allowing Mary to enter first, John nodded. “You know as well as I that Dean made a promise to help the Princess, after all,” he says, pausing for a moment, “A promise given is a promise kept. And I can’t help but feel that there is more to the Kingdom of Irinica. As if we’ve all forgotten something important about it.” ---- Storybrooke The argument with Dean had Sam still fuming. Worry about himself for once and not his elder brother’s issues? Weren’t they a family? Wasn’t family supposed to help each other? Sam couldn’t go home. He knew all too well that Ruby hadn’t moved out yet. She’d barely touched any of her belongings. Sam wasn’t in the mood to even touch her things. If he had his way about it, he’d toss everything in a box, leaving it outside his door. True, he and Dean had spent an afternoon packing her clothes. However, that was as far as it went. Trying to think of something to do, Sam happened upon an idea. There was a specific person he wanted to visit. Well, their grave anyway. With a heavy heart, Sam makes his way to Storybrooke Cemetery. Across town, Y/N stood in the office with Rowena and her son. “Rowena, please, I’ve been working hard to pay off my debt. You can’t just make me leave. How else am I going to make my payments to pay you back!” She argued. Trying to hold back the emotion in her voice. A mix of sadness and begging was in her tone. “If you had just agreed to marry me when I first offered, sweetheart,” Crowley says, leaning against the filing cabinet, arms crossed as his gaze focused on her. “Then, perhaps we wouldn’t be in this little predicament.” Since Crowley had brought Y/N into Rowena’s office during this entire conversation, she had been absently scribbling on her notes. Not writing anything in particular, but it made her seem distracted and uninterested. The girl had been offered her son as a bargain. In exchange, Rowena would pay Y/N’s Father’s funeral and hospital bills. However, the stubborn girl had refused, resulting in their agreement of Y/N working off her debt. “I’ve said it over and over, but you just don’t get it!” Y/N shouted, her tone becoming more clipped and irritated. This time, her anger was poised at Crowley instead of his mother. “I will not marry you. You can offer me all the money in the world. However, my answer remains the same. No.” For the first time since Y/N had entered her office, Rowena’s gaze lifted from her writing, tone flat, almost as a threat. “Then dearie, I suggest you find employment elsewhere. Just because you don’t have a job doesn’t mean I’ll find ways to make sure the money you owe is repaid.” “I’m not as bad as you claim me to be.” Crowley tries to add as a final plea for her to see reason and accept the bargain. “I’ll be a good husband for you.” Clearly, Y/N’s words were not clear enough for them to understand. With an aggravated scoff, she glared at the pair. “Use my last paycheck to go towards whatever I owe you,” She snapped. Storming out of the building, Y/N did all she could to wait till she was away from prying eyes before the tears flowed freely from her eyes. There was only one place she wanted to be, somewhere she knew she could be alone. Her father’s grave. As she made her way through the cemetery, someone was sitting in front of it. They were whispering as if getting things off his chest. Approaching the figure in the dark, Y/N was shocked as she looked at the man sitting beside her Fathers grave. “Sam?” She lets out in a breath, “what on earth are you doing here.” Sam looked nervous that he’d been caught out here, but all he could respond with were two words. “Evening, Y/N.”

#APAHS #APHS Ch 4.#OUAT FIC #SAM x OC reader #SPN Fanfic

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stray-tori · 4 years

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TPN S02E04 - Initial Thoughts (anime-only)

viewing + post-ep talk with my friends: Google Drive (sorry, youtube denied me again)

(i) Translations are in the English (USA) CC (including the english bits as well for those who struggle with the audio/language, etc.)

pls validate my efforts and watch it.

there’s some anime-only talk about the adaptation towards the end, I wasn’t trying to be arrogant, just mention it to my friends based on some things I’d heard and without spoiling them about what is different that I do know of specifically. But if you want to avoid that, feel free to!

I definitely said it a bit too in favor of the anime, and obviously my friends’ just got my simplified thoughts on it? Like when they said it makes sense for the anime to move on quicker, but that’s not really what’s different.

So yeah, please forgive the dubious things in that segment, I really just didn’t think about my words a lot.

. Random thoughts

The fish bug scenes were delightful TvT Also the animation during them trying to grab them???

The OST during Isabella’s scenes???? take me

I think we also heard the OST sneak peak from a while ago during the cave confrontation with the army force human

Don is a useless nightwatch, goddamn it Don

Don is an epic chairman.

Loved the shot of Ray shooting at the big demon (why didn’t Emma get a cool shot? :THONK:), very dynamic, very epic.

Also them running together to push the man off the cliff was... something haha.

I’m losing my mind that we’re actually just ending on the way ep1 started. Same animation loops too, eh. to be expected, and obviously adjusted for different clothing and items but. still as someone who wants to praise for not re-using animation, rip.

EMMA HAVING SLEEPING CHILDREN AROUND HER AWWWW

Eyy Ray took a bath with the others too, yay

. The bunker

So, the twist was that there was really.... no twist at all. Minerva was a good guy, he tried his best, he got discovered and chased.

And yet, I don’t think the bunker was previously discovered by the farms, which would at least warrant a “scare” like that, effectively making it a trap. They may have been aware of a shelter’s existence, but I don’t think they’ve been there before.

You could probably assume that the Troup that attacked our characters may have also removed the previous escapees from the scene --- but if that was the case, why leave all of the letters and other things in place. Not getting there immediately is understandable, they seem to arrived by foot (what? do you plan to keep an eye on the children the whole like 5 day march back or however long it took?? dang). So that’s not it.

So: what caused the HELPs? the person writing in the book seems to have been abandoned or more likely, are the only survivor of their group (maybe the only person in the group at all). Now it’d be an option for them to have found this safe haven and decided to just spend their days there, slowly losing their minds and doing the things on the wall. But then the message in the book, on the other hand, seems traumatized and sad, but not as lost as the carvings on the wall.

So either, they calmed down after going crazy and then once they did, they decided to leave.

Or it’s from two different people (or multiple), the one after the “HELP” one probably leaving the uplifting message in the book nearby of the scribbles.

I’m not sure which I’d find more likely, but all in all, I’m not sure why they didn’t just have the demons already know of the place and just have the letter (they probably wouldn’t have searched everything in the place) not be as obviously placed and then boom, they could still have made all discoveries they needed and when they found the help wall, it would have been from children trapped in the room while the men searched the bunker, wanting help.

* Clearly that’s not what they were going for, since there’s also day-counting things, but even that you could have explained by saying, they missed a child and the other escapees convinced them that they died, somehow and so they were left behind, traumatized by their friends being taken back and giving up for a while. It still runs into the same “but how can it be the same person?” doubt that my friend brought up, but I think that it’d justify the shock value of the wall more. Still not really making the whole “HELP” thing add up though, since that just sounds like there’s an immediate threat, when there isn’t. The only other thing I can think of is that the entire wall wasn’t one instance, so the counting could be solitude, the HELPs acute danger and the names probably also solitude. The drawing on the right also makes me think it was probably a child as well, fairly young. Poor kid.

Unless there’s something more to it I feel like it makes a little more sense, but still not a lot (WHY’D YOU LEAVE YOUR SNACKS, BRO) but seeing as we’ve left, I don’t think we’ll get to know.

I’m assuming the way the farm knew now is either a) they were aware but didn’t see any reason to go there unless there were children there, b) they saw the coordinate carvings (thanks Ray) or c) the pursuers contacted the farms (which would make sense, and again, thanks Ray).

.. the farm has a military force???

I also find it kind of funny that the farms have a military force??? Because so far, we’ve never seen them use guns to do anything. Which makes me think they might not be farm-intern but from an outside force, maybe the humans who are more “on-level” with them?

Like, what do they do all day. They’re probably not part of the buff demon guards and.... idk man haha-

. Isabella

Ahh I was happy to see her! I was even happier to be like “hah, prison. Knew it.” and then later reacting to the offer, even though that wasn’t exactly what I called, but damn. the pride. my fucking expression too lol, i couldn’t hide it at all pff.

Her jump in motivation is a little weird, but I do see it as, someone who has basically accepted their fate, and when that gets challenged, the will to live takes over.

I’m also not quite sure how she’s supposed to capture them if she can’t leave?

And then of course there’s whatever they promised her aside from “freedom” (which, if that just means being let outside, good luck ma’am there’s demons everywhere) - or is the transportation to the human world included? :D

Based on her clothing in the OP, I might have guessed it’d be “become a grandma” but that doesn’t really go well with the promise of freedom so.... I don’t know where that entire thing is going pff-

We don’t know a lot about what drives Isabella but one of the few things we do know is a) will to live and b) Leslie (????), hence the lullaby in “stressful” situations.

She already got the will to live with the baseline deal, so the only thing I can think of that would make her react more than freedom would be that Leslie’s alive and she can see him if she helps.

I’m not sure if she’s interested in anything else, like how the world works or what she can do for anyone, like.... hm. Of course it could totally be something that we just don’t know yet but yeah I guess that’s my guess.

They probably won’t give up Ray and seeing as she’s more concerned about his brain than anything, I don’t think even if they did allow her to take him with her, it probably wouldn’t mean a lot to her. Plus, why lose another high quality cattle.

I guess it could be, she did seem she wanted to be a proper mother figure, but idk something tells me it’s probably not something like that.

It would also be more “???” than “OHHH” of an reveal. Then again, Leslie is also an obvious choice so.

Maybe it’s something entirely new, we’ll see :D

. The possibily wrong date

So when Anna writes a journal thingy, we see this

And, well, their escape happened in January 2046, so... for that to be true, somewhere along the line, an entire year would have had to pass.

I’m assume this is a production error because

they didn’t get to harvest once

they wouldn’t wait a year to talk about the plan to go back

Ray wouldn’t need an ear patch for so long, he only has a cut

the montage only showed 22nd and 23rd, if an entire year had passed, we’d have been shown more varied dates, etc.

then it makes even less sense for why the army shows up one year later out of nowhere :D

...

Smh, CloverWorks, what can you even do right.

Yee, thanks for reading!

#tpn anime #tpn s2 #tpn anime-only #tpn isabella #tpn anime spoilers #tpn #tori has opinions #tori talks

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cals-sunflower · 4 years

Text

the garden (c.h)

Summary: the reader is the princess that prince calum has been promised at birth to be married to when of age. you then actually start to fall in love without knowing it.

——————————————————————————

every royal has a thing that helps them to escape even if it’s just for a moment. being a princess yourself, you know that things aren’t always the best when it comes to your royalty duties. your escape was the garden that your family has. you loved reading your books surrounded by gorgeous flowers and under the sun or even moonlight. it was the fact that nobody ever bothered you and you liked that.

“y/n, you know now that you’re of age it’s time for you to be queen and run a kingdom with prince calum,” your mother spoke as she stood behind you and brushed your hair. you nodded and gave her a tight lipped smile.

“yes mother, i know. but must it be necessary for me to move away from my home? can’t he just move here?” you were sort of in distress knowing that you have to leave pretty much everything and having it all go to your older brother.

your mother sighed and stopped brushing your hair to lay her hands on your shoulder. “no it does not work like that. you know this kingdom is already promised to your brother. stop asking such silly questions, you are to be queen with prince calum and rule over his kingdom with him. now please get ready to pack up for the trip in 3 days,” she puts your brush down and walks out of your room without another word.

your lady in waiting emma, knocks on your door before walking in. to you, she wasn’t just your lady in waiting but your best friend that you could always seek comfort in. you guys were never so formal around each other which was definitely a plus.

“hey y/n, what do you think you want to pack?” she knows not to push you but she always knows your mother would be pissed off if you guys didn’t start packing. you looked at her and shrugged your shoulders as your eyes started to water.

“oh honey come here,” she held her arms out for you to hug her. you embrace her and let your tears go. you found it unfair that you’re suppose to be married to someone you didn’t even know. that you didn’t even love. “it’s okay, i promise i’m going to be right with you. even though i don’t have much of a choice,” you let out a small hearty laugh at her attempt to make you smile which was working.

the moment your brother walked into your room was the exact moment everything felt even worse. “would you stop being a fucking crybaby? it’s not that serious really. so glad you’re not going to be around here anymore,” his shoulders shook with laughter.

“get out right now. leave me alone, i’m not in the mood to deal with your shit mason,” you stood up, pushed him out of the door and slammed it in his face before he got a chance to say anything else. you and mason used to be close as children but that changed when he found out he was to be ruler of the kingdom. you often wondered how things would be different if he wasn’t an ass to you.

—

in three days, your mother and father made sure you were ready to be with your fiancé. the goodbye was hard as it was because you had your last few moments in your garden just siting on the grass. it was crazy how your parents didn’t want to come with you. it felt like they were happy you were going away.

you and emma arrived at the castle in just a few hours. you could feel your breathing almost come to a stop but emma grabbed your hand and squeezed it to let you know you certainly wasn’t alone. someone was there to open the carriage door and helps you both out of the carriage. the queen, king and of course prince was right there to greet you guys at the castle entrance.

“it is an honor to meet you all,” you curtsied because it was what a princess should do. the queen mirrored your act while both the king and prince bowed. “the pleasure is all ours princess y/n. where might your parents be?” you felt slightly embarrassed by the king’s question.

“they did not feel it was necessary to come with me. as they are also getting ready to help my brother rule our kingdom. but this is my lady in waiting emma,” you introduced emma to the three. they nodded and greeted her as well.

“my son will be showing you both to your sleeping quarters. isn’t that right calum,” his mother turned to look at him. “yes, right this way ladies,” you and emma followed calum through the castle. he stops at where your room was at and was quick to turn to you.

“look i don’t really give a fuck about this but for the sake of my parents i’m trying. so please, just stay the hell away when possible. i don’t need to deal with a stuck up princess like you,” with that he walked away. he didn’t even know you but was quick to assume your character. it was something you didn’t look forward too.

you walked into the beautiful room decorated with all kinds of paintings on the wall with the gold ascent trimming. “yikes, i thought he was going to be nicer,” you looked at emma with a blank look.

“em he’s such an asshole! i am not a ‘stuck up princess’ hell i don’t even really want to marry him,” emma laughs at your huffing and pacing. “em this is not a laughing matter, can’t you see i’m ranting here!” you wave your arm dramatically and flop on your bed.

a knock on the door made you pause before saying a quick come in. to your surprise the queen was there in front of you. “y/n there is to be a ball tonight to celebrate you and calum coming together. but don’t worry about a dress, i had the tailors make you some dresses in different colors. i need you and calum to go work out what you guys want to wear,” with a single nod of your head, you followed her to where the prince was.

“there’s the beautiful princess! nice to meet you, i’m olivia and i’ll be helping you and calum pick out your outfits,” you smiled brightly at her feeling welcomed by her presence.

you ran your hands against the dresses with the various colors and styles. “what color were you thinking calum?” he looked over not only the suits but the dresses too. he couldn’t help but to think about how you’d look beautiful in any of the dresses. “calum?” you questioned him seeing as he was in some sort of daze.

“i think the emerald green looks great but i’m okay with anything if that’s not what you want,” he looked over at you as you pulled the green dress to view it. it was a gorgeous satin that had spaghetti straps with a slight v-neck and a high side slit. “i love it! olivia this dress is so beautiful. thank you so much,” you hugged the girl overly happy to wear the dress.

“great choice, you’re gonna look stunning! i’ll make sure of it,” she patted your back and ushered you to start getting ready.

—

calum hadn’t seen you since picking out the suit and dress but he was nervous. he felt bad that he judged you without really getting to know you. he was dressed in black slacks, an emerald green satin button up paired with black red bottom shoes. leaving at least three buttons open like he always.

the ball was in full swing and it just a matter of time before they announced you to everyone. to say you were nervous was an understatement. the only person you knew was emma and even she wasn’t going to around you for the entirety. you had to be with calum for basically the whole night. you wished you were in your garden, at least then you’d have calmed nerves.

“now announcing princess y/n,” you give a shy smile and wave as you walked down the stairs to meet calum. his eyes widened looking at you in your full beauty. your hair layed flat over your shoulders. light green makeup on your eyelids with your clear lip gloss. you could the applause from everyone in the room who was dying to see you and calum together. your hand meets his and he helps you down the last two steps. everyone goes back into their own conversations and you let calum guide you wherever.

he leans to your ear and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. “you look absolutely gorgeous princess,” you give a tight smile.

“you don’t look too bad yourself asshole. yeah, i didn’t forget how you were rude to me earlier,” he stops the two of you from walk. “i’m sorry about that, it was way out of line to do that. i hope you can forgive me?” you nodded.

“yeah, i guess could. but i get to have your dessert tonight,” you pointed your finger at him jokingly. he lets out a small chuckle. “that’s a shame, i was hoping to have you for dessert,” you hit his arm and he wraps his around your waist to bring you over to his friends.

“y/n these are my friends michael, ashton, and luke. guys this is y/n” you immediately pulled ashton in for a hug being excited that you haven’t seen him since the winter ball your parents threw.

“how are you doing ash? i missed you,” you let go of his shoulders and smiled. “doing good y/n, it’s great to see you again. you look beautiful,” the other boys stood there and looked at each other confused. calum felt sort of upset but it wasn’t really his place to be upset in any way.

“we met at the winter ball two years ago that my parent threw. just haven’t been able to be in contact with him. plus, ash you didn’t tell me you knew calum,” you turned to the black haired boy. “and somehow that’s my fault i didn’t know calum was going to marry you,” you both laughed it off still leaving the other boys standing there awkwardly.

“well boys i’m off to catch a drink and be with em,” you waved and walked away. they make sure you’re completely out of earshot before talking about you.

“dude, you’re so lucky! she’s known to be one of nicest princesses ever and you get to marry her,” luke brought his eyes over to calum. “guys she’s really is pretty and i still feel bad i was a dick to her when we first met,” calum was embarrassed to even say. he doesn’t know you at all but yet had the audacity to judge you. you could’ve did the same thing assuming he was one of those princes that do whatever they pleased and whoever they pleased.

“i don’t know man but don’t let her slip through your fingers. she’s better than any of these other empty headed princess,” michael patted his shoulder.

—

in the last couple months you and calum have been closer. you rode horses together, watched tv, ate dinner with just the two of you and even chased each other around the castle. his mother and father where delighted to see your relationship bloom. you were excited to see that they did in fact have a garden. you arose early in the morning with your silk pajamas brushed your teeth, put your hair in a ponytail, grabbed a book you were currently reading and head down to the garden. nobody saw you which was perfect for you.

you take a seat on the grass with your back against the bench and start reading your book. the sun barely out and it was a breath of fresh air.

“hey em, do you know where y/n is? i haven’t seen her all morning and it’s lunchtime now,” emma shook her head at calum. “do you have a garden? if so, check there first! she loves being able to distant herself for a while,” he thanked her and went to the garden. there he found you sleeping on the grass in your pajamas and your book in hand. he felt his chest retract looking at you. still as gorgeous as ever.

“hey doll, it’s time to wake up,” he shook you to wake you up. you mumbled a no and turned over making calum chuckle before he gently grabbed you into his arms to carry you. “cal, leave me be please,” you whined really just wanting to go back to sleep.

“it’s lunchtime, you have to eat something then we can go back to sleep,” he stopped walking letting you fully open your eyes. “okay fine but does this mean we get to cuddle?” he smiled and nodded before putting you down.

“anything for you babe,” he kissed your temple and grabbed your free hand to walk back inside. you had gotten used to him calling you all sorts of pet names and you loved it. you guys weren’t really together, promised at birth or not. calum’s mother wanted you to be comfortable and if it wasn’t with her son, she was okay with it. she loved seeing you two together and she noticed the change between you.

“last one there is a rotten egg,” you take off sprinting to the dinning room dropping your book on the ground. calum was too quick for you and caught up with you in last then a minute. he scooped you up into his arms from behind making you squeal. “gotcha princess, you’re too slow for me,” he presses kisses all over your cheek and neck.

“cal stop that tickles,” you try pushing him away but much to your dismay it didn’t work. “should’ve never told me, now i shall never stop,” playfully he continues which makes the pair of you laugh even more.

it was december when your mother and brother came to visit. the holiday season was your favorite because of all the christmas lights and the winter air. you and calum were hosting a children’s event where you guys gave toys to all the children in the land. as you were handing gifts to all the kids you noticed a little girl who seemed to be shy and stood in the very back. you grabbed a couple of gifts for her that you thought she’d like and mumbled to calum that you’d be right back. he watched as you walked away and his heart swooned seeing you bend down to the girls height.

“and what’s your name sweet girl? i hope you don’t mind but i brought some gifts for you,” you whispered not wanting to really frighten her. “my name’s aaliyah and i’m six years old,” she waved a little at you.

“well it’s a pleasure to meet you aaliyah, i’m y/n and is it okay if we open your gifts together,” she nodded and you sat down place her in your lap. you didn’t mind the fact that your dress was on the ground, what mattered was making sure the girl knew she mattered and was loved.

it didn’t take long for you two to start laughing with each other and playing with her dolls. “i like your tiara ! it looks pretty on you,” she was now facing you and placed her hands on it.

“yeah? i think it’d look even better on you,” you gently take the tiara off and placed it on her head making her smile. “see you look gorgeous! now you’re a princess just like me,” she wraps arms around your neck and hugs you. calum catches your eyes and in that moment he just knew he was in love with you.

the event was long over and you had actually given aaliyah your tiara. you’re mother scolded you for it but you waved her off. clearly not caring you were now one tiara short over the many more you had in the closet.

“so y/n, i see you’re less bitchy which is great because now you’re not so uptight. did calum fuck the attitude out of you?” the way mason spoke to you made you livid. he doesn’t even act like your brother anymore just some arrogant piece of shit. before anyone knew it, you raised your hand and slapped him.

“you have some kind of fucking nerve. stop talking to me like i’m a doormat to be walked over. i’ve had enough of you-“ your mother was quick to cut you off with a stop. you were now even more angry, “no fuck that and fuck you. you never stand up for me when clearly that son of a bitch starts with me. i dont care anymore because this is the last straw. mason keep my name out of your fucking mouth or so help me i will not hesitate to stab you myself. now goodbye,” you hastily make it out of the room leaving everyone stunned.

calum clears his throat before mumbling a quick i should go check on her. the silence was nerve racking for everyone. no one knew what to say after your outburst but it was long overdue. he knew where to find you, the only place you go to escape. the garden.

you layed on the bench with your hand leaning down to run your finger tips on the grass. calum just walked over picking your legs up gently and sitting down, putting your legs in his lap. “are you okay love?” he rubbed small circle like patterns on your leg waiting for you to talk or not that was perfectly fine for him. you sat up and shook your head.

“no, hold me?” he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you holding you tightly. he felt like it was the right time to tell you how he felt but was scared of how you would react. “y/n, i’m in love with you. i have been for quite some time now i guess but tonight seeing how you interacted with aaliyah made me realize just how much i love you. i love your confidence, selflessness, and bubbly personality. i love the way you smile when you do things you love like come to the garden to read a book. just everything about you makes my heart happy. you don’t have to tell me anything because i know it’s weird timing to confess my love for you but i couldn’t go on another day without telling you how i feel,” you could feel your eyes watering as you removed yourself from his arms to face him fully.

“calum thomas hood i love you more than you ever know. though you were a bit of an asshole at first but it’s okay because your my asshole,” you paused for a second. “wait that didn’t sound right,” he chuckled and wiped away the single tear that fell to your face.

“that’s alright i know what you meant silly girl,” both hands now on your face, he kissed you and gladly you returned it. it wasn’t rushed or fast but the perfect slow kiss. you were the first one to pull for air placing your forehead on his.

“hey,” you humed in reply simply enjoying the moment. “i love you,” he smiled even harder. “hm turns out i love you just as much,” calum pulls you into a hug and keeps you there. you weren’t stressed about anything that happened just minutes. you didn’t care anymore, the love of your life was holding you in the very place you loved to be in the most.

#5sos imagines #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood #calum hood imagines #5sos

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thegrantwater · 3 years

Text

Darkness Feeds on the Saddest Souls

A small taste, that's all I ask.

part one, also on my ao3

word count: 1896

When Regina came too, she smelled smoke.

She wasn’t sure where it had come from, the smell of flame, but it was almost overwhelming. Looking down, she saw black tar dissipate at her feet. A grey dress fell to her ankles, and she pushed the hood of her newly adorned cloak back to her shoulders. Looking up, she realized she was in the middle of a forest, one she wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with. The air felt crisper here, and as she took a deep breath in Regina realized that she’d ridden Rocinante through these woods as a child.

“I’m in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Very perceptive, dearie.”

She whipped around, seeing Rumplestiltskin leaning on a tree behind her. He looked like he did when they’d first met, his skin glistening in the light and wrapped in his attire from a life lived long ago.

“How the hell are you here? You’re in Storybrooke, in a coma.” He gave a slight nod, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes, I am. Or rather, he is.” Regina furrowed her brows, confused.

“What are you?” She was nervous, feeling magic crackling in the air around them. Her power hadn’t felt like this in ages, and she thought back to when Emma had helped her activate Jefferson’s hat. The energy in the town hall then is what she felt now, the raw intensity weighing her down and lifting her into the sky all at once.

“I’m many things. The voice in your head, the Dark One’s powers inside of you-inside of all Dark Ones. Rumplestiltskin is just one of many.”

“So Emma failed,” her voice was soft, laced with something she couldn’t even put words to. The last thing she remembered clearly was Emma taking the dagger in her own hand, raising it to take on the curse herself. After that was darkness, and pain coursing through her veins as she lost consciousness. It was slowly making sense, her ending up in the Enchanted Forest. The runes by her feet came into focus, translating quickly in her brain once she realized what they meant.

Regina was now the Dark One, standing on the stones that gave life to the first to carry this burden.

“There it is. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to spell it out for you.” She glared at the man as he took a step towards her. “Now, are you ready to begin?”

“Begin what?” She replied, finally stepping off of the stones and starting into the woods around her.

“Well, learning to be the Dark One, of course! Though it shouldn’t take much time, you were a more prolific heart stealer than I ever was in my day. Maybe a little training, learning to hone all the powers of the darkness, but I’m sure it won’t take longer than a week to make you one of the most powerful Dark One’s of all time.” He was trailing behind her, a spring in his step as the leaves crunched under his feet.

“I won’t embrace the darkness again. I can’t,” she spoke, still walking through the trees. Henry was present in her mind. He would never forgive her if she fell back into her old ways, not after how far she’d come. Regina wouldn’t fool herself - she was no hero, and she never thought she would be. But she’d improved herself, had worked towards happiness and peace with the family she’d created, and if she went back to the darkness she wasn’t sure she’d find her way out this time.

“Oh, they all say that. But everyone who steps from that well enjoys the taste too much. It’s intoxicating, your majesty, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of that.” She stopped in her tracks, turning to face the vision behind her. He was smiling, a disgusting visage of filth and evil. “So you can fight the urges, and you can try to ignore my whispers in your ear at every turn. But everyone falls for the flavor of the darkness. The only way to stop is to be stopped.”

“If I’m in the Enchanted Forest, then Merlin isn’t far from here, and the Apprentice told Emma that he can destroy the darkness. So I’m going to find him, and he will fix this.” She’d stepped closer to him, now practically nose to nose with the embodiment of calamity. She almost gagged at the smell, identical to what she’d smelled at the stones. It was the smell of suffering, of pain caused over thousands of years. If she let it sit for a moment, it smelled like her castle had in its prime. The blood of her enemies spilled on the marble floors, the rot of death permeating the hallways as she drank bitter wine from the decanter in her bedroom, crying out into the night for her wishes to be granted. But Regina knew better than to trust the Blue Fairy to answer her calls - her sleepless nights praying for the fairy to take her away were still imprinted in her mind.

“Merlin? You’re much better off with me,” he kept the same wicked smirk on his face, and Regina rolled her eyes as she turned her back to him once again.

“I doubt that. I won’t hurt the people I love, not again.”

And so she kept walking.

“Apprentice,” Emma burst through the curtain in the back of Gold’s shop, where Blue was dabbing at the wizard’s forehead with a damp cloth. “The darkness took Regina. Where did they go?” The rest of her family trailed in behind her, Hook trying his best to keep his distance. Emma wanted him to; she thought that if he tried to come near her after what had just happened, she’d rip his throat out.

The Apprentice sat up slowly, swatting away the fairy’s hand. “She’s now where all darkness is born, Savior. Your realm.”

“The Enchanted Forest?” Snow asked softly, clutching David’s arm. Emma kept her focus on the man in front of her. If she looked back, all she’d be able to see was Henry’s face, crestfallen at losing his mother for the umpteenth time.

“Then you need to take us there,” Robin spoke up from behind them. The Apprentice looked past Emma, clearly disappointed. How this frail old man could hold so much power and so little at the same time, Emma would never understand.

“I’m too weak now, but this will help.” He waved his hand, and in a flourish of grey smoke a wand appeared in his hand. The handle was ornate, a delicately carved green wood, knobbed on the bottom. “This was a gift from Merlin, the day I became his apprentice. In it is all light magic.”

Emma snatched the wand from his hand, inspecting it closely. “So this can take us to my mom?” Henry was quiet, his voice barely a whisper. Emma looked back to see tears in his eyes, fists clenched at his sides. Regina did the same thing when she was upset, almost as if it was an attempt to ground her anger.

“Not on its own,” the man explained. “It needs to be wielded as it was forged, with both sides of the coin. Light and dark as one.” His voice trailed off at the end, and he fell back onto the bed, eyes rolling back into his head. Blue brought the cloth back to his head, wiping at it gently and muttering to herself-some kind of healing spell if Emma had to guess.

“The only person with that kind of power is the one we’re trying to get to,” David spoke, a thought simply bursting through the silence. “How are we going to get there without her?”

Emma stood, the want firmly in her hand. “Maybe we don’t need her. I can try and use this thing myself.” Turning back to the group, she held the wand towards the ceiling. All eyes were on her as she slowly made a circle with the wand, and her only thoughts were directed towards seeing Regina. She thought that if she could devote her mind to the woman in question, that just maybe it would force the magic through the wood and into the portal she was struggling to create.

“Emma enough!” Hook shouted, stepping forward and pulling Emma’s arm down. As he did, Emma’s other hand reached up and gripped his throat, fingers practically crushing his arteries.

“I know what I’m doing, Killian.” She growled, eyes pointed in anger. Robin stepped between them, breaking the connection between the two. The pirate let out a cough as air filled his lungs again. Emma felt the hard stares of her family on her, shocked by her aggression. None of them could remember the last time she’d behaved like this, if at all. Even Emma struggled to think of a time she’d been overwhelmed by such rage.

“Emma you heard the man,” Robin started, attempting to get her focus on him and not the man she’d threatened now twice in the same night. “The wand needs both light and dark to reach its full potential; your magic is purely light. Without the darkness, we won’t be able to activate it.”

“And what’s your great suggestion, Robin? We call Regina and ask her to activate the wand for us? She’s not here!” She shouted, now stepping up to him with a fury in her stance.

“We need someone wicked, Swan.” Hook muttered, still rubbing at his throat. The ginger spitfire locked under the hospital, part of the reason they were in this mess in the first place.

“No, no, no. That witch is more than wicked, she’s deranged. All she’s ever wanted was Regina gone, do you really think she’d agree to help us get her back?” Emma said, and as her adrenaline rush came down she started to feel her head pounding.

“We have to try, Ma.” It was Henry that spoke, as heads turned to face him. Snow and Charming were appalled at the mere mention of Zelena, and after all the damage she’d caused Emma was right there with them. She opened her mouth to speak, but Henry began again before she could get a word in edgewise. “My mom left her there because she thought that it was possible Zelena could change. Maybe this is her chance.” He was desperate, grasping at straws in an attempt to convince her. “And Robin’s right, you’ll never be able to wield the wand on your own. I think it’s worth the risk, if it means we can get Mom back. Please.”

The room fell quiet at his pleas, everyone deciding on their own whether or not it was even a viable option. Emma was the deepest in thought, grappling with the dilemma before her. They were right - she couldn’t use the wand on her own. And with Gold comatose, there truly were no other options for a magic user in the town. But what would Regina say when she found out they’d let Zelena go? Sure, it was for her, but locking the witch up was for her as well. And if Zelena harmed any of them, nothing would go well.

But Emma had made her decision the moment she’d realized who Hook was talking about. So she focused back on Henry. “Looks like we’re making a stop at the hospital.”

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smiletimeisrunningout · 1 year

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Do you want to hear the most useless headcanon that NEVER ever comes into play in our threads because it would just open a huge can of worms? I headcanon that Emma, once she went on to be a knight in the fantasy/historical world and/or a bounty hunter in the modern one, got closer again to one of those 'summer friends' you see a month a year when you are a kid, meaning Lily, who was living a similar knight/agent life. Except that Lily tends to mess up her life consistently, a lot, and sabotage relationships and so on, so it doesn't take long before she gets overattached to Emma, her bff, because drawn to Emma's kindness and light and how fun she is to be around, while simultaneously starting to resent Emma and be jealous of her, and sabotaging their relationship too, and being incredibly reckless and violent to test her until she can prove that Emma will push her away. This eventually results in a platonic breakup, with Lily still feeling she wants to be Emma, wants to be with Emma, wants to be with the men Emma is with, wants to kill Emma, wants to show Emma she's not perfect and not the hero she thinks she is, while simultaneously wanting Emma to suffer because how dare she not forgive Lily for her mistakes if she's supposedly the hero? And Emma, who is not about to repeat her mother's choice not to kill Regina which resulted in Regina killing a lot of people, legit spelled out to Lily that she will get captured and possibly killed, that she's out of chances with her after getting so many. So they are mortal enemies but also former best friends, they meet, they fight, they are unable to kill each other but getting closer and closer until Emma strikes a blow meant to kill her and Lily survives only by miracle, so now Lily also feels like killing her back. And possibly hurting Emma emotionally a lot before then.

Which also means Lily would want to try to anger Emma in any way possible YET she'd feel terrible if she learned that Emma is having a hard time like 'see where trying to play good gets you?'

so in short: Emma's mortal enemy who never gets mentioned is Lily, formerly one of her bffs, and they have this very weird painful relationship, and Emma will honestly try to kill her while Lily will try a bit less hard to do the same but hurt her in many other ways, and this is also why I don't write with Lilys, because I have these huge headcanons of how their story goes, but she IS the typical 'oh there is Saint Emma again' or 'you are supposed to be better than this!' full of hate enemy.

#headcanons

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peterpan-ouat-imagines · 4 years

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In Hell I Will: Part 3

I’m sooo sorry for such a delay on posting this. I was on winter break and did not mean to post so late! I am much more active now please forgive me!

Prompt number 29: He doesn’t need to know

Warning: Smut

We all go to the sorcerers mansion which is huge and gorgeous. Each room is designed fabulous and with detail and tons and tons of shelves filled with books in other rooms and nooks. We go so we can look for the book and me and Henry are assigned “lookout” I feel pathetic, Cruella is right, I do have no clue what I’m doing.

“Y/n, come with me I want you to help me find the quill,” Henry tells me.

“You want me to join you? What about yesterday? I thought you have to take care of this quill business alone?” I ask kind of angry.

“That was different, Cruella wanted me to be alone and I didn’t know what was going to happen,” he pauses for a moment, “You could have gotten hurt,” he tells me.

I freeze when he talks about being concerned for my safety which makes me feel better, “Okay fine, it’s okay, but will you at least explain what happened?” I ask, “I almost went to follow you but decided to do otherwise,” I tell him.

We start walking around and he explains how he is the sorcerers unfinished business and has to do the right thing about recording stories rather than writing new ones.

“I think I see something!” he walks over to a lamp and grabs a pen and ink hidden on the inside.

Later that night Henry runs upstairs upset which is weird. I don’t think anything I said was offensive. Either way, I go after him.

“Henry, talk to me,” I tell him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Okay you don’t have to talk. Let me. I haven’t had such a great day. I don’t know what I should do to help ever and have no one to guide me. I don’t belong here. Back where I’m from I’m used to doing what is right. But being here in the underworld and saving people I don’t know what decisions I make will be a mistake. The only people I’ve met here so far I can talk to about stuff like this is you and Hook. My point is, you have a whole family of people to talk to, I never had that. I’ll go now,” I head to the ladder to crawl down.

“Y/n wait,” he stands up and goes to hug me, “Thank you, and I’ll try to include you from now on,” he goes down the ladder and I follow him. He tells everyone about the quill and what we found.

A couple days later Belle somehow falls through a portal along with Zelena and “her baby.” the quotation marks is because she is the biological mother yet Regina has taken the responsibilities of that role and I don’t think that will change.

“Henry, y/n, I need you to get me something from Rumple’s shop. I would do it but I need to help find Robin’s baby,” Henry agrees for us and we head there.

Me and Henry walk towards Main Street in silence which starts to get awkward, “Can we talk about what you said the other day?” I ask.

“About what?” he asks.

“You said that you didn’t want me to get hurt and were worried about what would happen if I went on your secret operation,” I remind him.

“Oh yeah,” he blushes softly, “I just care about you. I wanted you to know that,” he tells me.

I kiss his cheek.

We continue walking and finally arrive. We walk in.

So Belle said we needed a certain book from his shop. What was it called?” I ask him.

“Her Handsome Hero“ he answers.

I go in the back and he stays in the front to look around. I flip through the shelves looking at the books and in cabinets and all through all the elaborate antiques.

“You just couldn’t stay away could you?” I hear a familiar British accent say.

“Pan I did not come here for you, I came here for other reasons,” I tell him as I stay focused and don’t look at him.

For a moment it is only silence besides the sounds of books moving, “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he tells me.

I stop what I’m doing for a moment when he says that in shock but then walk to the other side of the room still not looking at him.

“Y/n, look at me,” he says firmly but I don’t. After a moment he pulls my shoulder so I’m facing him and I’m staring in his gorgeous green eyes. After a moment I see them trail down to my lips and I can feel the sexual tension between us starting to build.

“Henry is in the next room, stop this I don’t want him to see us like this,” I tell him trying to stop a mistake.

“He doesn’t need to know. No one does for that matter,”

“Pan if you don’t stop I think I might-” I begin but I get lost in those eyes and his voice makes me weak, “forget it,” I mutter and kiss him passionately.

He kissed me back the same and I just can’t help myself. He pushes me against a wall kissing me harder and I have the same intensity. All I can focus on are his mouth and body against me as our lips fight for dominance. He pulls me away from the wall and we continue to makeout. I can feel his hot breath on my neck as his mouth trails down my neck and I don’t want it to stop.

He eventually pulls away and I look at him confused.

“Why’d you stop?” I ask.

“Just giving you a taste,” he smirks.

“Tease. Two can play that game,” I smirk back, “Anyway,” I start to get serious again, “We can’t do that again, me and Henry have something going and I can’t have you mess it up with doing something,”

“But we did do something,” he tells me.

“And like you said, no one needs to know,” I say sternly.

“Y/n, I think I found something,” I hear Henry say in the next room.

“Till next time,” Pan whispers and kisses my cheek. He goes away.

Henry comes in the room, “Look I think I found what my grandma was saying,” I look at it.

“That’s it I’m pretty sure,” I say looking at the cover.

We get it and walk back.

“Hey we’re you talking to someone?” He asks.

My face starts getting a little red when he asks that, “No? Who would I be talking to? It was only us and no one else in the store,” I try to sound casual but it comes off panicky.

Pan takes up all the space in my head and I know I have to see him again, “Hey Henry I think I left my phone back there I’ll be back,”

I head back with nothing but intentions with a bad person in mind as I try to act cool.

I open the door and step in. I walk around and don’t see him but expect him to pop up behind me. I sigh when he doesn’t come and open the door to go.

I hear footsteps walk from the back and pause in my trail, “Going so fast are you?” I hear him say.

I turn around and walk towards him, “I think you know what I’m doing here,”

“Yes, I do,” he kisses me.

“But Pan, a rendezvous is so sneaky, I don’t want to lie to anyone,” I say second guessing being here.

“That makes it more fun though,” he smirks.

“But it’ll look weird if I come down here all the time,” I counter.

“Different meeting locations can be arranged,” he tells me.

“Why do you want this to happen so bad?” I ask him.

“Why don’t you?” He asks.

“I’ve gotten hurt in the past and I don’t want it to happen again. Alright?!” I say a little bit angry.

“If your so worried it can just be a physical thing” he lets me know which makes me a bit uneasy but I need to be loved by more than just a familial way like Hook or whatever feelings are with me and Henry.

“But- fine meet me at the well in the woods tomorrow at 9,” I tell him.

He nods and I go.

When I return the group is planning the next move. I hear them go on about whatever we have to do that I won’t be included in. I zone out the whole time with butterflies in my stomach already anticipating tomorrow morning.

“Y/n, did you get that?”

“What?” I ask

“Tomorrow morning, you go with me and Hook to get what we need. We need you,” Emma tells me.

“You do?” I ask and she nods.

How do I choose? My one chance at proving what I can do and learning about being a hero or time with Pan who makes me feel good and real about myself just by his presence and I enjoy.

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silverinia · 4 years

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I came for Baranski, I stayed for Baranski - a quick Christmas On The Square review someone* actually asked for

(* thank you, anon)

Disclaimer: I am in no way a professional of any sorts when it comes to film and I'm not a journalist either. The last movie review I've written was probably for a school assignment in eighth grade. I didn't do research for this and I've watched the movie exactly one time, so this is just for fun.

It was a Sunday, Sunday the 22nd of November, nearing the end of the train wreck of a year that is 2020. I woke up on an air mattress around seven am, my head aching, my throat itching with pyrosis and light nausea, it was still dark outside behind the closed blinds in front of the windows, when I slowly realised where I was, one of my best girlfriends sleeping next to me in her bed. I had crashed at her place after a warm, fuzzy evening of mulled wine, tacky Christmas movies I would never watch alone (Christmas Chronicles and Holiday Calendar, which I quite honestly didn't enjoy at all, but the company made it fun anyway), doing our nails, wearing the fun kind of face masks for a change and smoking too many cigarettes, as the soft pain in my head informed me right now. She woke up an hour later and the morning went by with coffee and reheated pizza for breakfast, when we decided to watch another movie and I realised that it was THE Sunday I'd been waiting for through Zoom interviews and Dolly Parton twitter memes and the infamous wig gate that will be briefly discussed in the following, and so we clicked on the small icon in the Netflix menu that said "Christmas On The Square".

And oh boy, was it a ride.

To start off, I should mention that I have a hard time watching most modern day American Christmas movies, as I noticed quite vividly again when I watched the two aforementioned Netflix productions last night. The character development is always foreseeable to say the least, the plot lines are plain clichés hunting each other like they're the kids in The Hunger Games, and the writing is generally so bad that you can join the actors in reciting the entire scripts on your first watch. I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas once a year while I'm gift wrapping and pause every fifteen minutes to shamelessly stare at forties Christine Baranski (I think we should all turn away from the birth of Jesus and instead count our years based on Christine Baranski's date of birth) in flamboyant nightgowns and short Christmas themed dresses, looking so fabulous that every interpreter of Santa Baby ever could only dream of it, I watch Love Actually at least five times a year to lust over Hugh Grant, cry with Emma Thompson and miss Alan Rickman, I enjoy Bridget Jones, which I would definitely consider a Christmas movie, and that's it. That's my yearly Christmas time entertainment routine and I can barely tolerate anything beyond, because I'm still traumatised from the time when I was around five years old and on a holiday family visit where had to sit through National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the dumbest movie I have ever seen (my apologies if you like it but also, who hurt you?), with my cousins. I hated it. I hated every minute of it. And it scarred me for life.

But this was a Christine Baranski movie, I knew she was going to play the lead and so I was pretty much as excited about this as I could. And the fact that Dolly Parton wrote the whole thing didn't hurt either. As I said earlier to my friend I was watching it with, I have the pop cultural taste of a fifty year old gay man, a quality I am most proud of, and this simply ticked off all my boxes.

I expected something similar to a Mamma Mia experience that wouldn't cause me to crave packing my bags, give Covid the finger and run off to Greece. Light-hearted entertainment, easy to stomach, uplifting music and so little plot that the simplicity feels like a creative choice. That's what my pained, hungover brain knew it could cope with and that's not what I got.

The movie started and I was immediately in the zone. I saw Christine Baranski's name in the front credits (an experience that never fails to make me scream "Yass Queen" at the screen, regardless of where I am and who I'm with, as if I'm the sobering result that pops out of the package when you order Jonathan Van Ness on Wish), the setting was wonderfully corny (I grew up watching Gilmore Girls once a week, so give me warm fairy lights and a gazebo and I'm perfectly happy) and as my friend wondered whether Dolly Parton, in her exaggerated homeless attire that didn't make her look shabby at all, was green-screened into the setting because she stood out so much (which she was because the background dancers were dancing in slow motion, but to be fair, we were probably still a little too drunk to notice that from the start) and I told her I thought that it was just the natural glow someone who's Dolly Parton simply carries with them everywhere they go, I was happy. This was the movie I was prepared for. A movie in which the most problematic thing would be stereotypical characters and the wig they hid Christine's real, flawlessly handmade by God herself hair under.

And then, around five minutes in, Christine Baranski's childhood love interest was revealed as she pressed her perfect pointy nose against the window of his shop and sang about her unrequited love.

And suddenly, things started taking turns at a pace I was still way too sleep-deprived for.

Suddenly, in the middle of my general amazement at seeing Christine Baranski do literally anything and laughing loud at her impeccable comedic delivery, there were unresolved daddy issues, hanging prominently at the wall in her marvellously designed house (she literally says "Daddy" at one point and I couldn't help but think that only someone with her vocal skills could keep from making it sound cringe-worthily kinky). One moment, I was clutching my chest above my heart while she was bonding with little bartender Violet and munching on pretzels while downing some whiskey in that elegant way only Christine Baranski can bond with ten year olds who had it rough, eat pretzels and down whiskey, and the next she felt responsible for said girl's mother's death (which she kinda was too, but I'm not the boss of her). I was still busy making fun of how the very annoyingly, but when you're snacking on pizza with extra cheese at nine in the morning also highly funny, slow talking pastor's name was Christian, and suddenly there was a cancer scare.

It was a lot, a hasty sprint from major issue to major issue with a hint of comedic relief every now and then, and it didn't get any less until the very, rather poorly resolved, end.

The entire, constant up and down was followed by the movie's peak of suspense, the near death of precious Violet, something I couldn't even get too invested in because I was still so busy worrying about Christine's MRT results (I was truly fucking worried), not to mention that I hadn't even started to really process the sudden revelation of the love child and how it had affected her character's actions until this point. Was her constant tendency of pushing people away, as we've seen most clearly with her angel in training assistant who's name I cannot recall right now, the result of her broken trust in her father who practically ripped her son away from her after she had just given birth to him? Was it a result of her never getting the closure she needed with plaid flannel wearing Carl she was clearly still in love with? Maybe both? And what of the many issues was it that made her so incredibly shaken up when Violet blamed herself for her mother's death? Was it 'just' due to the fact that the closed pharmacy was on her, or was there more to it? Was it because she had grown up without a mother herself? Or did I miss a major piece of information because I was momentarily distracted, dumbfoundedly staring at Christine's very blue eyes? No time to ponder on that, little Silverinia, because here comes unconscious Violet in an ambulance, WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO!

I'm not going to go in depth about what plot lines I thought were especially carelessly handled and why, real standouts were the sudden forgiveness towards her father who had still acted like a shitty asshole even though he might have had his reasons, because giving the baby up for adoption just wasn't his choice to make, and the fact that I kind of didn't buy how quickly Regina managed to forgive herself, especially for Violet's mother's passing, considering how deeply her tall, slim, dare I say angelic and entrancing figure was buried beneath the weight of all her issues. It felt rushed and incomplete, but that's as detailed as it gets because my major point is something else.

I think this movie made the great mistake of trying to be more than your average, flat, happy ending Christmas movie. I think no one involved thought it was possible to make it a big hit if the only real plot would've been great Dolly Parton music, fun ensemble dance choreographies, Christine Baranski's outstanding acting skills, fun settings and costumes and a redemption arch with as little plot as it could possibly take to make Christine likable to those who aren't already lost forever in the rabbit hole of being obsessed with her (poor fuckers, can't relate). They didn't notice that with the legends that were involved, they could've easily gone the Mamma Mia way. And I think that's why they tried to include heavier plot lines than most creators would've chosen, experiencing loss at an early age, struggling to find closure, dealing with sickness, teenage pregnancy, parents forcing their choices on their children when they affect their childrens' lives first, adoption, and the fear of losing your kid.

It was a lot and I don't want to say that it didn't work because my friend was crying, like, pretty hard and I questioned my entire existence all through the movie in not the worst way, and I did enjoy it a lot while watching. The "grief is love with nowhere to go" line was a real standout, for example, where the attempt of complexity DID work. It positively gave me fleabag season two, "I don't know what to do with it now, with all the love I have for her." - "I'll take it. It sounds lovely. You have to give it to me." feels, and that's about the biggest praise I can come up with. BUT (and this is written in capital letters because it's the big but) I'm also totally convinced that I wouldn't have enjoyed it if they hadn't cast Christine Baranski for the lead role. In my humble opinion, the hasty, not really at all resolved plot of this movie only worked because Christine Baranski is just a fantastic actress. She quirks a mocking eyebrow and you laugh. She parts her perfectly painted red lips and you immediately hang on them because you don't want to miss a single breath she, a literal goddess, graces us mere peasants of people with. She smiles and you're happy. She laughs and even while she's still laughing, you can't wait to hear her do it again. Her eyes fill with tears and you feel goosebumps on your arms, her voice slightly trembles, a breath hitches in her throat and you feel your heart shattering to pieces. As Chuck Lorre once said, this woman could read you the phone book and you would end up laughing tears because she just gets the job done. She knows what she's doing, she's an absolute pro in her game, and it doesn't matter, not even a little bit, what she's working with, because the work she eventually delivers with it is always at a minimum of 200%. I forced my friend to watch this movie with me because I adore this woman, and I felt for this movie because I felt for her. It wasn't the plot that sadly brutally overestimated itself, it wasn't the songs that I obviously enjoyed, nor the comedic elements that truly made me laugh a lot, it was all her. I came for Baranski, and I stayed for Baranski. This woman can do anything. She can even look graceful in a terrible wig job.

(side note / unpopular opinion: I actually didn't think the wig was all too bad. It wasn't good, actually far from good, but for me, nothing can match the awful wig game of Mamma Mia 2. I loathed that wig, I absolutely cannot stand it. So this didn't feel all that terrible. It definitely wasn't the most problematic part about the movie.)

I enjoyed watching this. It was a nice distraction from all the bullshit in the world. Watching it today was the first thing this year that actually brought me something close to excitement about the holiday season, even though everything will be very different and probably not quite as jolly this year. But it just gave me good vibes and as someone who did not watch this as a film reviewer, that's the biggest part of what leads me to enjoy a movie.

Will I watch this again? For sure. Will I enjoy it when I'm not hungover, having freshly done nails and munching delicious pizza for breakfast? Probably not as much, but it'll still have Christine Baranski in it. Would I recommend watching this? If you share my obsession with Queen B, one hundo. If you don't, probably not.

#Christine Baranski #Christmas On The Square #dolly parton #shitty movie reviews by yours truly

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capnjay21 · 4 years

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A House is Never Still 3/6

Five years ago, Emma Swan disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Killian Jones’ disappearance, well, not so mysterious – given the denizens of Storybrooke all but blamed him for her murder. Drawn back to town by a series of strange events, he soon realises the story of what really happened the night she vanished is beginning to unravel, and what’s more: it isn’t over.

A/N: it’s been a while since I shared something new! positive news: this is now finished, so all the remaining chapters until its finished will now be coming out weekly. if anyone is still following there won’t be much longer to wait!

again, heaps and heaps of thanks onto @hollyethecurious who created the aesthetic which birthed this fic!

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of suicide, canonical character death, and some Spooky Business™.

AO3 | one | two

-/-

3 - those who listen intently

November 22nd, 2014 - 5 Years Ago

Everybody stared. They always stared.

But this was not a new truth for Killian Jones.

With an almost supernatural precision, hallways would part as he turned into them, with students pressing themselves against their lockers or the walls of the corridor in order to put as much distance between he and them as possible. Hushed whispers were passed from lips to ears, poorly concealed by the palm of a hand, and turning to nothing but air if he should so much as glance their way. He could feel their eyes on the back of his neck, prickling into his spine in a way that was so familiar, but now with one crucial difference; where before he had suffered their oppressive curiosity about him, now a fearful trepidation had taken its place.

He used to be the boy whose brother had committed suicide.

Now he was the boy who had murdered their classmate, and dumped the body in the woods.

Of course, nobody said anything out loud. Nothing was proven. But they all had watched him be pulled from class enough times by Principal Nemo with Sheriff Humbert at his side, only to return a few hours later, perhaps looking a little paler than before. They had all gone home, reported these details diligently to their parents, who had begun to form their own presumptions about just why he was of such special interest, and before long near on every student at Storybrooke High had been advised to give him a wide berth.

The only concrete thing the Sheriff had been able to throw at him was a piece of orange string they had found in the north woods, smeared with his blood and found a few feet from a beanie that the DNA tests they had sent for had correctly identified as Emma's. Killian had explained, not untruthfully, that he had cut himself many times as they searched the woods that night after Emma disappeared; and that she had been wearing a beanie that night, yes, so she must have lost it.

Circumstantial. That was all it was. And Humbert was getting desperate.

Not that Killian cared.

Not about the kids who always stared but would never meet his eye, not about the good cop, bad cop routine with which Humbert was trying to wile the truth out of him, not about Archie's sympathetic looks or the absolute spitting fire he was starting to receive from adults on the street.

Emma was gone.

There was a yawning, gaping cavern in his heart which yearned to hear her laugh, to watch her smile, to tug her into his arms just one more time.

But she was gone, and it was his fault. And now he had to find a way to live with that.

As he stepped sullenly down the hallway he was suddenly wrenched from his reverie by a sharp pain in his shoulder, crying out as he was hurled into the lockers beside him. His backpack slipped from his shoulder onto the floor as the movement knocked the wind out of him and he winced, but tried to pull his attention to whomever had shoved him.

Leroy stood in the centre of the corridor, bristling and agitated, his face flushed bright red with menace and fury. A few other students had gathered, forming a circle of onlookers around them.

“I liked Emma,” Leroy spat, “she was a great girl. And it’s about time you really got what's coming to you for what you did to her.”

Killian gritted his teeth.

“I didn’t do anything,” he seethed. “Come near me one more time and I’ll knock the sense out of you, got it?”

“I’m not afraid of you, sister.”

Killian straightened, and tried to ignore the throbbing across his shoulders from where he had crashed into the lockers. What Leroy Arenberg did not know was that right now Killian was an oil spill on water, just waiting for someone to light the match. He had been simmering at the edges for weeks, an ember slowly fanning into a flame for every moment that Emma wasn’t here, and he practically begged nightly for ignition. He longed for a fight; perhaps he deserved one. Leroy was bigger than he, but he didn’t have the same smoulder in his bones.

“Well, maybe you should be.”

They had both stood ready to pounce on the other as a wave of excited anticipation rippled through the onlookers, when a taller boy pushed his way through the crowd and out between the pair of them.

“What’s going on here?” David snapped, looking between the pair of them, before taking in Killian’s position by the lockers and Leroy’s arguably stronger stance in the centre of the corridor. It was easy to tell who had started it, just not who would finish it. David’s eyes narrowed at the stockier boy. “Did you–?”

“He deserves it,” Leroy growled, “he’s a monster.”

“Back off, Leroy,” David warned, “if you know what’s good for you.”

David had always been what Killian could never be; a well-liked and generous boy, a member of the track team but a good sport, polite to all of his teachers and kind to his classmates. He had garnered a lot of respect over his time at Storybrooke High, and a lot of sympathy after Emma had disappeared – everybody had known his mother had fostered her. He was as good as her brother, which meant nobody was particularly fond of upsetting him at that moment; and even less wanted to pick a fight.

Leroy included.

The boy grimaced, but eyed David with a begrudging deference.

“You should wise up, Nolan. He’s trouble.”

Leroy shoved his way back through the gathered students and stomped down the corridor. David then turned his ire to everyone else.

“Don’t you have places to be?”

With a start the crowd scattered, students fleeing his temper as quickly as they could manage.

Killian was furious. He couldn’t quite work out why. “I don't need your protection,” he snarled at David, “I could have taken him.”

He wanted to. He wanted to take him. To send him crashing into the ground and keep throwing punches until it didn’t hurt anymore. Until he didn’t want to cry anymore at the flowers and hopeful prayers the students at school had attached to Emma's untouched locker. Until he could erase her final scream from his nightmares for good.

Killian – Killian, don’t—!

“That’s not the point,” David was saying, “you shouldn’t have to. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” David had reached a hand out to him, and Killian ducked it in order to lift his rucksack. His heart was still thumping loudly in his chest, dangerous and greedy. “Just leave me alone, Dave.” He shoved roughly away from the lockers and began to walk away, but his body was still ablaze, ready for a fight. He finally swivelled on his heels and threw back at him, “Isn’t helping me what got us all into this mess in the first place?”

Unsurprisingly, David turned to molten fury; he caught up with Killian like lightning and once again he found himself pressed, albeit a little more gently, into the lockers, with David’s hands fisting in his shirt.

“Quit making this about you,” he spat. “We all lost Emma. It's bad enough you’re letting them all think – you’re not saying anything when they—” The boy winced, his face contorting with sadness, and the fire went right out of him. “We stick together, you got that? Like it or not I give a crap about you, Killian. You’re my friend. And Emma would never have forgiven me if I let you take a beating you don't deserve.”

He released him and Killian swallowed. A pregnant pause settled between the two of them, and Killian could feel the roar that had made its way to his fingertips beginning to ebb away.

“Will never forgive you,” he corrected quietly. At David’s bemused look he continued. “Present tense. We're getting her back.”

David shut his eyes, before nodding firmly.

“Together.”

-/-

Present Day

Killian had spent much of the last few years enjoying the luxury of anonymity, in one of two ways. Either he walked the streets of cities that cared little for his story, for his purpose or his destination, blending into the palette of the populace and ensuring his identity was lost to the gaping jaws of a metropolis, or he lost himself in the complete opposite. He had skimmed across vast, rural savannahs, often going days without coming across another human being, relaxing in the ease of his own company. After years of constantly feeling under scrutiny in Storybrooke, first after he lost Liam and again after Emma, he had never wanted to undergo anything of the like again.

Of course, returning to Storybrooke had not been a factor in that particular fantasy.

And most who inhabited the town did so enjoy falling into old habits.

The early morning sky was beginning to turn from pink to white by the time Killian made his way back into the centre of Storybrooke. Weary, dismayed and in desperate need of rest, he trudged back through the woods with his torch held loosely at his side, and the dagger pressing against his chest from the inside pocket of his jacket with every step. He daren’t leave it behind, but it weighed heavily against him, the chill of the blade biting against his shirt.

A glance at his watch informed him it was barely nine in the morning, still healthily early for a Saturday, but Killian found himself vividly reminded of why he had been so desperate to avoid Main Street during more sociable hours – he felt vastly observed as he headed towards Granny’s, and the familiar sensation curled about his shoulders with a daunting persistence.

Some pointed, some muttered and tutted to their neighbours, but Killian tried to pay them no mind.

His mind was vexed by far greater quandaries than the gossiping of his long since forgotten neighbours.

So good of you to finally come and see me.

Those eyes; distant, jade – hostile.

Despite only the gentle breeze brushing down Main Street, Killian trembled.

He had wanted answers – he just hadn’t realised they could make him so desperately, desperately sad.

The door to Granny’s opened with the usual jingle, and Killian found himself immediately met with a steely glare from the proprietor, stood over a book of accounts behind the counter. His intention had been to ignore her completely and stumble up to his room, to try and catch a few hours of sleep before pondering his next move, but then he spotted Ruby at the end of the diner by the jukebox, lifting glasses from a now empty table and balancing them on her tray.

With a jolt he remembered their conversation from yesterday morning, and he made a beeline for her.

“Oh,” she said, letting out a short gasp once she noticed him at her elbow, “crap, you startled me. Everything alright?”

“I need to know what you saw.”

Ruby hesitated, a perfectly manicured hand hovering above a glass before she lifted it slowly onto the tray. “What are you talking about?”

He was tired, he was hungry, and he had been up all night. Killian didn’t have the patience for any more coyness from Storybrooke’s eccentric residents. It was about time somebody was honest with him.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Ruby wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Did you go looking for your house?”

So good of you to finally come and see me.

Killian’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Aye.”

“And you found it?”

“Aye.”

Ruby finally turned to face him, features tight and schooled into something defensive, almost – hurt. “Then you know what I saw. Who I –” She bit her lip, shook her head and steered past him towards the counter.

“Ruby, please,” Killian followed her, careful to keep his voice low as he felt Granny’s beady eyes following him across the diner. “That’s not enough. I can’t help unless I know more about what I’m dealing with.”

The waitress’ lips parted, meeting his earnest gaze with one of her own, and Killian felt a modicum of guilt for pressuring her. Her reluctance abounded from her in waves, and she had been kind to him since he came back into town – it was perhaps the only kindness he had received for kindness’ sake in a long time, and not because of some shared history chequered with pain.

She was spared from providing him with any more information by the clatter of the shutters and the jangling of the bell as somebody entered the diner, and on instinct both of their eyes flickered towards the door. All thoughts of pulling a proper confession from Ruby fled his mind instantly once he recognised the entrants, a lump beginning to form in his throat.

David, and his mother – Ruth.

Ruth Nolan appeared far older than when he had last seen her, although he couldn’t place when exactly that might have been – she was softer at her edges, more frail of stature, and melancholy clung to the air around her with a vice like grip. Ruth, as he had known her, had been nothing but tenderness.

That, like everything else, had changed the night Emma disappeared.

They didn’t notice him immediately. Killian’s first compulsion was to beat a hasty retreat. To sneak out through the hallway and into the inn before they had a chance to realise he was there. It was better that way – they had likely come in for a drink, or some breakfast, and he felt no desire to intrude upon their time together. Even Ruby spared him a helpless look as she glanced between them. Against her own grandmother she would stand firm, but she couldn’t be a shield between he and all the town’s censure.

Killian made to back away quietly, but as he turned his left foot nudged a stool and the loud, sharp scrape which ensued caught the momentary attention of most of the diners – including those that had just walked in the door.

David’s eyes widened as they landed on him, but Killian’s flickered quickly to the woman at his side; David did not react fast enough.

“I… hadn’t wanted to believe it,” Ruth spoke quietly, stepping around David as her dark eyes settled on Killian. He found himself completely unable to form words, panic rising in him like a wave as she took another step forward. With every painful second which passed, a sharpness seemed to form around her, as if she had been nothing but a blurry image before and was just now coming into focus. “When they said that you were back. I didn’t want it to be true.”

Killian swallowed, and all across his back and chest he felt warm. Hot. It was too hot. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.

“Mom, why don’t you wait outside?” David was saying, but the blood rushing from the base of Killian’s skull was loud, so loud, he could barely concentrate. One of David’s hands was resting on Ruth’s shoulder, tugging gently but firmly, trying to move her away. “Mom.”

“Haven’t you caused enough pain?” Ruth hissed, low and dangerous, and her eyes sparkled with the freshness of a grief he had given her. “Isn’t it enough?”

No, he wanted to shout, wanted to scream so the dead could hear, make me feel it.

Don’t tell me – it’s hot cocoa, with cinnamon, and you’re about to hand it over.

It’s never enough.

“Mom,” David warned, and his arm curled around her waist protectively. The movement seemed to jolt Ruth out of her reverie, and although her eyes continued to spit molten fire, she allowed herself to be turned around and ushered slowly out of the door. The shutters clattered back into place behind her.

An awkward silence descended on the diner, as patrons slowly started to pick up their conversations again, not least because of the fierce glare David shot over that warned them not to remain spectators for any longer.

It was eerily familiar, that sense of David Nolan trying to shield him from prying eyes.

A whole newfound respect for David began to emerge; Killian hadn’t been able to look Ruth Nolan in the eye after it happened, but David lived with her, loved her everyday, while keeping the truth they all knew locked away in a place no one ever touched. Now either that was a colossal level of control on his part, or he could compartmentalise even better than Mary Margaret.

“You didn’t answer my calls yesterday,” David said, and Killian’s ears pricked when he detected a hint of terseness in his tone. “Are you alright?”

“Aye, I’m sorry,” Killian replied. He’d all but forgotten the number of missed calls he’d allowed to pile up on his phone. All he really wanted to do right now was go to bed. “I got a little caught up.”

“Seeing Regina?”

Ah, there it was. A flicker of hurt crossed the other man’s features, and Killian felt a surge of guilt rush forth within him. They were made of such fragile things, he should have known better than to leave David hanging – he should have at least sent him a text, but he’d been just a little too self-involved. He had forgotten what it felt like to be beholden to someone.

Still, the idea that all he had to do was walk down the street for his every activity to be so meticulously reported, combined with the exhaustion already threatening to overwhelm him, had him far more irked than he probably had cause to be. Someone must have spotted him visiting the Mills residence and it had found its way back to David.

He clicked his tongue. “I see the neighbourhood watch is no less efficient these days.”

“I can understand you needing space, needing to re-adjust. But you’ve been leaving me on the sidelines since you got here, and now you’re using your time to see her?” David shook his head, fiercely aggrieved. “After the way she cut us out?”

Killian was almost surprised by the force of his remark. “So you’ve forgiven me for leaving, but not Regina for retreating?”

“You weren’t here,” David bit back, “you didn’t see the way she treated us.”

They had stopped being friends, sometime after Regina’s father had died. That was all Killian had ever been told. After Emma, it had seemed pointless to keep abreast with the particulars; he wasn’t sure his heart could handle carrying their fractures too.

Instead he set his mouth in a tight line. “Everybody grieves in different ways.”

“Just tell me one thing,” the other man continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Did you go to Brooke House?”

His gaze dropped pointedly to the torch Killian carried in one hand, the only thing other than the dagger that he had taken there, and the dagger was tucked out of sight in the inside pocket of his jacket.

David had always been driven by his emotions – his fear, his hurt, the desperation of wanting to know but the trepidation at being burdened with knowledge – it was written as clearly across his face as the first day Killian had brought him and Emma to the old structure in the middle of the woods. He had summoned Killian back to Storybrooke because he had been hopeful about what it might uncover, but now Killian could see there was a chance he might resent every stone they turned over.

In an instant, he knew he couldn’t take David to Brooke House now. For David Nolan, Emma was love, and light, and lost.

So good of you to finally come and see me.

“Yes,” he said simply, because he had no desire to lie, but would also rather the truth be kept as far from David as possible He hadn’t visited the house with Regina, but it was implicit in the details he chose to omit.

David’s expression contorted with anger, with hurt, and when he spoke his voice tremored like a wound.

“I’m the one who called you,” he snapped. “We’re supposed to be doing this together, Killian.”

We’re getting her back.

Together.

Killian hesitated.

So good of you to finally come and see me.

Better David stayed out of it.

When Killian spoke again he was careful to keep his tone cool, his manner disaffected.

“Maybe that’s where we went wrong last time.”

For a moment David simply stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Fuck you, Jones.”

The door to the diner had slammed shut before Killian had even registered what was happening, the shutters swaying wildly from side to side in his wake. All at once feeling relieved and bereft, Killian attempted to gather his wits and prepared to head back to his room. Only then did he notice that one of the patrons now stood between himself and the hallway, her soft, lavender coat wrapped tightly around her and a dainty bag slung over her shoulder.

She smiled kindly, although Killian resisted the urge to recoil at the pity he saw in her eyes.

But instead of offering up an attempt at a comforting platitude, such would be her normal fare, Mary Margaret finally let the polite veneer she had come to adopt slip, and he caught a glimpse of the spark that had given rise to her strong friendship with Regina Mills to begin with.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Killian checked his watch. 9:29am. He thought longingly of his bed upstairs.

He sighed. “Definitely.”

-/-

10 Hours Earlier

“So good of you to finally come and see me.”

Killian’s chest began to ache, and he realised it was because he hadn’t drawn a breath in a number of moments, and his torso shuddered with the effort of doing so. The bulb in his torch winked once, twice, and then gave up altogether.

The vision of her remained.

Still watching him, her eyes glittering dangerously in the dim light, all sharp jade and alert and waiting for him to make the next move. Her skin was pale, but the slope of her cheeks looked all too familiar, all too close, the curve of her mouth exactly as it looked in his dreams aside from the lack of warmth in her smile. Killian found his eyes flickering to every inch of her, for some indication that what he was seeing was a falsehood, but he found none.

This was Emma Swan.

Don’t tell me – it’s hot cocoa, with cinnamon, and you’re about to hand it over.

The hand holding the dagger fell limply at his side. “Emma?”

“Surprised?” she smirked, lifting her hands to touch the circlet of dark grey flowers resting on her head. As she did so, two shrivelled petals fell away. “I know, it’s not my usual look. But it does come with a few perks.”

Emma twirled once, her dress floating daintily around her, and Killian dazedly tried to take it in. The hem was crusted in muck and leaves, as if it had been dragged along the forest floor, but the rest was a perfect white like the eponymous creature her name had always alluded to.

But it was Emma. Emma Swan was standing in front of him.

He reminded himself to take another breath.

“How –” his voice cracked, and he tried to find it again. “How are you –?”

“Here?” she finished, and she stilled the movement of her skirt abruptly, her tone suddenly sharp and cold. “I’m exactly where you left me, Killian Jones.”

A fierce breeze blew past him and he flinched away, and once he wrenched his gaze back up to look at her she was no longer standing there. Instead, her voice came from behind him.

“After you abandoned me,” she spat, her voice continuing to penetrate like shards of ice, “just like everyone else. And to think, as a girl I’d been naïve enough to think you were different?”

Killian’s lips parted, trying valiantly to keep up with the whiplash of the encounter. After five years, what he had scarcely hoped to be true had come about, Emma was there, but she was overcome with a kind of piercing fury and as she began to circle around him he struggled to keep his legs from giving out underneath him.

“I didn’t abandon you,” he protested, hoarsely, and Emma scoffed.

“No? I suppose bailing out to you is just a riotous show of support.”

Here, Killian could feel himself coming back to himself a little – he was responsible for much wrongdoing, that was certain, but he hadn’t come here to be attacked.

Before he could retort, she cut across him like a bullet.

“After all, isn’t that what your dear, sweet brother did?”

Instinctively Killian flinched, his hand clenching around the hilt of the dagger and something white hot shooting up his spine. As children they had shared so much with each other; they had always known how to make each other bleed.

He hadn’t realised his eyes had closed until the touch of something chilled to his temple shocked him into opening them; Emma was standing before him, her right hand drifting gently upwards as she ran the back of her fingers along the shell of his cheek. Up close, he could see the dark circles that rimmed her eyes, the sallow tint to her complexion, the way her skin appeared stretched, gaunt, over her cheekbones.

Her touch was ice cold. Killian could only watch, panicked and wretched and fearful, as Emma continued moving her hand down, fascinated, as if lingering on the warmth he radiated.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, her biting words drifting to tenderness, “I forgive you. You helped me realise the most important thing.”

She lifted herself onto her tiptoes, leaning in close to his ear. When she spoke, he could feel cool air lifting the hairs on the back of his neck. She smelt like the forest at dusk.

“The only one who saves me is me.”

A hiss, the freezing touch of her lips to the skin just below his ear, and she was gone again.

“You seem a little overwhelmed,” Emma declared imperiously, and now she was standing in the doorway that led out towards the rest of the house. The puckish delight he had seen in her when she appeared had returned, and she twirled once more in her gown, skirt swishing noisily around the floor. “Why don’t you come back when you’re ready?”

Before his heart could beat another woeful throb, she had disappeared completely.

Killian stared at the space she had been, now vacant and vast, and tried to wrench himself back into the present.

“Emma?”

His torch flickered back into life.

Killian reminded himself to take a breath.

More than a little disconcerted, he called her name again into the dark; but he was as alone as he had been when he first arrived. Disquiet slowly giving way to agitation, he gave every corner of the room one last glance before he swept out into the hallway again, scouring the house for any sign of her.

Even as he thundered up to the second floor and threw open the door to every bedroom, rifled through cupboards, hauled down the rotted door to the attic, she remained completely absent. Killian tried to stem the growing tide of anguish once he realised she would probably not reappear. For a moment he considered that he might have passed out for a few minutes and hallucinated, or that he was asleep back in his room at Granny’s, but Killian had confidence in his own intrinsic sense of knowing when something was real that made him certain he hadn’t conjured up the encounter from one of his more desperate dreams.

Emma Swan was here.

Like a mirror pointed inwards, the very walls of Brooke House were saturated with her; he could feel her pulse through the old, rotted panelling, could hear her steps creaking on the floorboards. He could almost see her sitting at the spinning wheel of the otherwise barren room on the second floor. The dusty tomes of the bookcase in the study had been hauled out of place and clumsily returned a thousand times over – pages had been earmarked and passages circled that would appeal to her spirit. In the attic, the wardrobe door hung wide open.

Emma Swan was here – she just didn’t want to see him.

Why don’t you come back when you’re ready?

No matter what he tried, nor how often he begged or pleaded into the blackened hallways, whatever vestige of her he had seen did not return.

Dawn had long since broken by the time he left the house.

He longed for rest, for quiet; and most of all he longed for Emma.

-/-

October 22nd – 5 Years Ago

Emma’s birthday crashed into the Nolan household with far more aplomb than she was comfortable with. From the moment David had tumbled into her bedroom waving about a card and a present he was immensely proud of (a book of humorous ‘worst case scenarios’, to, in his own words, remind her to “cheer up, because at least there aren’t alligators”), she had been the centre of attention all day. Ruth had treated her to a grandiose breakfast of all of her favourite treats, and gifted her a beautiful desk set which looked easily more expensive than anything she had ever owned; which either made her feel unbelievably touched or profoundly uncomfortable, she couldn’t decide. Either way meant she promised she would cherish it.

But as grateful as she was, mostly she was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. She hadn’t been lying when she had told David she would rather the day pass quietly, perhaps with a movie or two. Birthdays for her had always been a lonesome affair, another year under her belt marking the distance from the day her parents had abandoned her by the side of the road; and just as she had been expecting, jumping from one extreme to the other was a difficult adjustment.

Still, even inundated with the gifts and attention she knew she was fortunate to receive, Emma couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.

It wasn’t until Killian had turned up on their doorstep, declaring that she had to join him on an expedition, that she realised quite what it was. She had hurriedly called over her shoulder than she would be back in a few hours, grabbed her coat and skipped down the steps after him.

She hadn’t seen much of Killian over the last week or so – in fact, she hadn’t gotten the chance to spend any real time with him since the day they had visited Brooke House. He had taken to spending his lunches in the library, away from the bustle of noise that normally surrounded David’s friends that Emma occasionally fell into these days, and he vanished soon after the bell rang marking the end of the day. It tugged an odd sensation from her. After years of him being only a few doors down under Archie’s roof, she was feeling oddly bereft of his presence after his isolating behaviour in the last week or so.

As she practically jogged down the street after him, she felt something calm and pleasant warm her when she observed his excitement as he charged ahead; she was only half listening to what he was saying.

And it did seem like he’d forgotten it was her birthday. Which suited Emma just fine.

Only when they began to turn up the pebbled path to the Convent of the Sisters of Saint Meissa did Emma’s awareness of her surroundings really kick in, and she slowed her trail of Killian enough for him to notice.

“What are we doing here?”

Killian gave her an odd look. “I told you – ‘Beauty’, I found her.”

“Beauty?” After a beat, realisation dawned. “Like the photograph?”

“Turns out she’s been living in Storybrooke the whole time – the nuns have been taking care of her for the past few years.”

Emma arched an eyebrow. “Taking care of her?”

“Well, she’s… I mean she’s old, obviously,” Killian looked a little uncomfortable, “and y’know… old people need taking care of.”

She had the distinct impression he was leaving something out, but the eager smile he was giving her and the crook of his finger as he took slow, backward steps up the path won her over, albeit reluctantly, and they made their way to the convent.

A kindly nun greeted them on the doorsteps, and given the warmth of the greeting and the apparent familiarity with Killian, Emma sensed he had called ahead. The nun excitedly told them that Mrs Gold did not receive many callers, but felt it would do her a world of good to be visited by a couple of kindly young souls from the town. Emma’s unease grew, but she trusted Killian. Perhaps it wasn’t where she had imagined spending the latter half of her birthday, but that hardly mattered now.

They were led up the stairs to a bedroom door on the landing, and the nun knocked three times to announce their entrance.

“Belle? Belle, my dear?”

Killian was right; the woman nestled into the bed was old. But the soft lines of her face and the lovely, big eyes she had turned to the window were a sure sign that she had once been beautiful. Even with her silver hair and the puckered skin around her features she was easily recognisable as the girl in the photograph they had found in the attic. ‘Beauty’ had been right – but how Killian had found her was a complete mystery.

The nun called her name again. Belle did not turn from the window, and it was then that Emma observed the almost glassy coolness that had settled in her ice-blue eyes. She stared with a definite vacancy out into the garden below, and it was only when the nun gently touched her shoulder that she was suddenly jerked for her trance and, startled, became aware of the visitors.

Emma realised why exactly Killian was reluctant to discuss the state of the aged Mrs Gold; she would certainly have voiced a protest to disturbing an elderly woman with any measure of vulnerability.

Still, after the nun had introduced them, a perfect, gentle smile bloomed, and it changed the shape of her features entirely. She greeted them warmly and the nun, satisfied, soon departed the room.

Emma fidgeted. Killian immediately reached for a chair and scraped it over to the bedside, but Emma preferred to stand – she felt a little uncomfortable as it was, and instead wandered over to the window to perhaps catch a glimpse of what had so captured the woman’s attention.

“This is you, right? In the photo?” Killian was handing it over, and the woman’s laugh was positively musical as she took it from him.

“Why, yes,” she chortled, tracing a finger down the edge of the image. “If – if you can believe it now.”

“You look lovely,” Killian hurried to assure, “then and now.”

“Thank you, sweet boy,” Belle smiled. “Where on earth did you come by this?”

Killian shot Emma a look, but she shrugged. This was his venture.

“I found it,” he began, with a marked amount of trepidation, “in Brooke House.”

Immediately, the old woman’s face fell. Emma watched with amazement as her big, beautiful eyes grew sad, and she thrust the photo back towards Killian, who accepted it more out of surprise than anything else.

Belle shook her head sorrowfully. “I don’t… I don’t know anything about that boy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Which boy?” Killian asked.

“The boy with the lovely manners,” she answered, as if that explanation were enough to make it obvious, “he brought me carnations.” At their continuing blank looks, Belle began to fidget nervously with the duvet, intermittently clutching it tightly between her fingertips and releasing it. “They say he… he drove off a cliff.”

Liam. Killian’s eyes closed instantly. Emma stepped up to stand by his shoulder and squeezed it once with her hand.

From all that Killian had told her about Liam, it seemed altogether quite believable that he might be the sort of man to bring an elderly lady flowers and win her over by simply being kind. Killian appeared to have reached that conclusion too.

“That boy was my brother, Liam.”

“Oh.” Belle’s eyes grew wide, and sad. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“But how did you meet him? Liam?” Emma inquired.

“He brought me carnations,” Belle repeated, her voice deep and slow. “He had such lovely manners.”

Emma and Killian exchanged looks. He slipped the photograph back into his pocket.

“We were wondering if we could ask you about the house – Brooke House, where we found the photograph.” Belle bit her lip, gaze flitting nervously between the two of them. “Did you live there?”

“My – my husband,” she said, “he found – he found a house, in the woods – and he thought it might make him strong.”

Make him –? That settled it for Emma. This woman was, in all likelihood, nuts. No wonder she’d been left with the nuns.

Killian’s lips had parted, but before he could speak the old woman suddenly lurched forward with alarming speed, a frail hand reaching for his and gripping it sharply.

“You mustn’t go there,” she spoke directly, staring firmly into Killian’s eyes with a cognizance Emma would not have attributed to her. “It will only bring you pain.”

Killian did his best to meet her halfway. “Why? What happened to your husband?”

Just as quickly as she had taken it, she released his hand. Emma watched as Killian stretched out his fingers and winced a little – had she been gripping it that tightly? Had she even the ability to? As Belle retreated her eyelids drooped, a melancholy settling around her shoulders that Emma realised she had seen before. Except, now that she knew that for a brief moment Belle Gold had been without it, she wanted to see it again so she might be able to discern the differences in her demeanour. This woman was devastatingly sad, and confused, and Emma grew more uneasy the longer they spent with her.

Not least for the affect it might have on Killian; finding Brooke House to begin with had to be staggering enough.

“No one would believe me,” Belle murmured miserably.

“We’ll believe you,” Killian was quick to assure her, “I promise.”

Belle’s eyes snapped to his. She was all caprice.

“He was taken.” She shook her head. “By darkness, in the middle of the night. There is… there is evil in that house.”

For a moment Emma was no longer in the tattered bedroom of the convent, but the attic of Brooke House – the wardrobe thumped, beckoned, and whispered. She felt her heart begin to race.

It wanted to know her.

“Do you believe in magic?”

The odd question startled her back to the present, and she was at once able to observe what was happening – Killian watching her, mesmerised, as the old woman spun her tale. He was vulnerable enough, he didn’t need his head filled with all sorts of wizard crap from a batty old lady who lived with nuns. Emma wasn’t having it.

“Killian,” she pleaded, “this is ridiculous…”

But Killian dismissed her concerns with an impatient wave of his hand, and urged Belle to continue.

“My husband believed a spirit resided in Brooke House – a spirit that could gift the one who freed it with ultimate power. He wanted it.” Belle shut her eyes, her wizened face contorted with pain. “That was his undoing.”

Killian was utterly entranced. “What – what kind of spirit?”

Belle shook her head. She didn’t speak again for a number of moments but Emma could sense Killian’s reluctance to ask for a second time; somehow to repeat the question might be to insert some much needed realism into the moment, and the spell might be broken. Whatever fantastical answers he wanted inhabited this single second.

She just hoped they would be enough this time.

To her surprise, Belle’s eyes began to fill with tears.

“I couldn’t do anything,” she began to weep, “for the lovely boy. He b-brought me carnations.”

“But what did my brother want?” Killian pressed. “Did he ask you about the house?”

“He had such lovely manners.”

Soon, her quiet shaking gave way to a loud wail, and Killian stood from his chair in alarm. Emma, completely unnerved by the elderly woman suddenly howling through the stillness of the convent and entirely unsure of what to do next, merely stood awkwardly halfway to the door – should they fetch one of the nuns? Just leave?

Emma’s mouth was open to ask if she’d like a glass of water or something equally banal and probably inappropriate, when the door swung open and the nun who had invited them inside came through looking startled.

From the way her expression morphed into one of tight fury, Emma knew their visit was over. In a matter of minutes they had been ushered quite tersely to the front door of the convent and invited not to return again if they would insist on distressing their residents in such a way, but Emma couldn’t stop thinking about the way Belle rocked in her bed and wept so strongly into her hands for a boy she barely knew; the sweet and gentle Liam Jones, who had brought her carnations. It seemed every life he’d walked through was incapable of getting over his loss.

Liam was always the one part of Killian she could not touch.

Left stranded on the porch as they were, Emma surveyed the long lawn that led out from the convent. The tips of the grass were frosted over, a herald of the likely harsh winter she knew would follow, and peppered with streaks of gold where errant leaves had blown across from the treeline at the far end. It was all stillness outside, like the air itself were holding its breath. She stole a glance at Killian but he, too, was staring out from the stone wall.

Then he took off quickly down the stairs.

“Killian –?” Emma immediately started after him, and like her call had suddenly jerked him into remembering he was there, he turned and winced.

“Let’s just… let’s not talk about it,” he pleaded. “Just – just for a little while. Please can we not even try.”

Maybe retrospect was allowing him to really see what had just happened the way Emma did; they had been entertaining the crazed ramblings of an unfortunately ill elderly woman, who genuinely believed her husband had disappeared because of the machinations of an evil spirit. Who apparently lived in a cabin. Perhaps he was embarrassed.

So, for the nth time in recent memory, Emma was helpless to not wanting to point it out to him. He was reaching, and part of him probably knew it. Instead, she let out a weary sigh.

“Granny’s?”

“Ah,” he suddenly jolted, “yes! Granny’s. I have something else to show you.”

He darted for her hand and used it to tug her clumsily down the steps towards him and, baffled at his sudden change in demeanour, Emma laughed and let herself collapse into his side.

“But I have to tell you, if it’s another old person about to ask me to believe in magic, it’s going to be a hard pass.”

“Oh, shush.”

-/-

Present Day

Aesop’s Tables was probably the only place serving alcohol that early in the morning, so Killian didn’t question it when Mary Margaret led them to that part of town. Nestled into a redbrick industrial building, it had always been an easily overlooked sort of place – and it was the sort of place that tended to easily overlook you, provided you could pay for beer and didn’t cause any trouble. It was a popular location for late teens or young adults trying to see how far they could push the ‘I’m over twenty-one’ line until it was true, and given there were worse things they could be pretending to be, they were largely left alone.

Mary Margaret held the door open for him, and after they entered he was immediately hit by a wave of something tangy smelling, a fragrance that let you know just before the fact that your shoes would make a peeling sound when you lifted them off the ground. The tables were a worn and dull oak that might once have been nice-looking, but constant forceful cleaning had long since deadened them, and no matter how many times were wiped over always felt just a little bit greasy underneath your fingers, like they still oozed lager that had been spilt into the cracks a thousand times over.

It wasn’t exactly the sort of place he could imagine Mary Margaret, elementary school teacher, wearer of lavender coats and soft berets, spending time in.

It was exactly the sort of place he could imagine Mary Margaret, certified firecracker, acerbic of wit and bold of humour when they were seventeen and invincible, spending time in.

Although the two facets of her had always existed simultaneously, they had always complimented each other in a way that had only strengthened her spirit; she seemed less, somehow, for letting one take precedence over the other.

Certainly watching her daintily lay her lavender coat over one of the crooked bar stools didn’t quite click into place the way it should have done.

Killian nodded to Aesop, who thankfully didn’t care about serving town pariahs as much as he didn’t care about serving minors, and ordered them each a rum and coke.

(A little bit of one side – and a little bit of the other).

“So,” Mary Margaret said, peering at him over the rim of her glass before taking a sip. Her nose wrinkled, barely noticeably, before the corner of her mouth ticked up. “David. That looked like a difficult conversation.”

“I’ve had worse,” Killian answered, not untruthfully. He felt tired; the kind of tired that burrowed deep into your bones. Mary Margaret hummed in agreement, and something about it made Killian finally give over to his curiosity. “So. David,” he echoed. “What happened? When I left, you were… well, you were definitely heading somewhere.”

Mary Margaret immediately dropped her gaze, picking at the smooth wood of the bar with a fingernail. Like David, she wore her every emotion on her sleeve, but regret had written itself so closely into the shape of her brow that Killian almost didn’t notice it – or it had been there for a lot longer than he realised.

“David… made his choice,” she finally sighed. “As much as I wish it could have gone another way…”

Ah, now he understood. “He didn’t want to let go?”

“Don’t judge me, Killian,” Mary Margaret’s tone was sharp with reproach as she straightened on her stool. “Some people don’t want to live in their trauma.”

He could remember a cool night in early summer, the year after they had lost Emma. Huddled by the edge of the forest he could still hear the buzz of insects, feel the way the soil had kicked up underfoot, the harsh zoom of nearby cars. The night she gave up first.

I want the chance to miss her. But it’s impossible around all of you.

The Mary Margaret of now looked almost exactly like the Mary Margaret of then. The Mary Margaret that would rather be soft and sure than part of their razor’s edge.

She took another drink. “Not all of us have your stamina.”

It was just a statement of fact, unintending of any hurt, but he felt its sting all the same. “Well, I’m sorry about it. You two were… it looked nice.”

“I should have left, really,” she said, with a forced nonchalance that fell flat. “Followed your example. But every time I packed a bag I just…” She shook her head ruefully. “There’s something about this town.”

Something jerked in his chest, something ached. “Don’t I know it.”

“Did you miss us?”

“Of course,” he replied, and he meant it.

They sat in silence for a little while, letting it sink into the space between them. Mary Margaret kept scrunching up her expression and then schooling it into something more relaxed, and he could tell she was trying to think of the best way to phrase something – or she already knew exactly what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t decide if it would hurt his feelings.

He wanted to let her know they weren’t such fragile things anymore, but she probably still remembered the boy on that cool summer night, too.

We can’t give up now. Not after everything we’ve been through.

She had put them all away, somewhere; but that was alright. They all had to do what they needed to survive.

“It was upsetting,” Mary Margaret said finally, staring hard at her glass. “Not because of you. It was just – I’m sorry we made you feel like you had to go.”

Killian felt something warm bloom in his chest – the fact she carried any regret towards it was a surprise, especially given his decision to leave Storybrooke had no more to do with them than it had to do with the bus schedule out of town. They were just moving parts in a decision he had made all on his own. It wasn’t on them, but the idea that they might think that and feel sorry for it was both startling and touching.

“It’s alright,” he said wryly, after finishing his drink. “I forgave this town a long, long time ago.”

“I wish the town would forgive you.” She, too, polished off the remainder of her drink, and sighed. “We were stupid kids. And one day our stupidity got someone killed.”

It was amazing, he thought, how selective her memory could be.

Without preamble, Mary Margaret stood from the stool and lifted her lavender coat, checking it briefly for any stains or muck that might have come away with it before she shrugged it on.

“Take care of yourself, Killian. And I’m sorry about what I said before, at Granny’s.” She shook her head, cross with her earlier self. “You can talk to me anytime, about anything. You have my number.”

He did, but he wouldn’t use it. He thanked her honestly and watched her go.

Aesop asked if he wanted another drink.

He thought for a moment.

“Something that will help me sleep,” he said finally, “but not let me dream.”

-/-

October 22nd – Five Years Ago

Killian’s hand kept brushing into the space between them, almost reaching, before retreating at the last minute. Emma’s pulse quickened with every inch it skimmed closer to her own hand, almost daring him to go ahead and take it.

It wasn’t like it would be the first time – she had often found herself reaching for his hand, to provide reassurance or some much needed comfort, and he the same for her. It had felt like their entire cautious journey from the rotted front door of Brooke House all the way up to the attic they had stayed attached to each other, needing something to secure themselves to the real world, lest their overactive imaginations pull them apart.

It was just that – right now – they would be a boy, and a girl, on Main Street, and without any such excuse.

She wondered if Killian even noticed that he was doing it.

He spoke animatedly about nothing at all. About the history project they had been given by Mr. Hyde, about the new Sheriff the town had elected last month. About liquorice allsorts, in his smooth, British accent with his face turned onto the road ahead so she could easily, secretly, admire the hard line of his jaw.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed. They weren’t kids anymore. Killian had broader shoulders now, and hair that fell just so, and she remembered the way his upper body had tensed pleasantly the day the seniors had been asked to help put up the Halloween decorations around the school. The friendship she and Killian had forged in fire had always been made of sterner stuff, stuff that had always made her flat out reject any idea of taking that relationship any further than the platonic. He was too special, too important. But it didn’t mean sometimes she didn’t imagine it another way.

And sometimes, when his hand brushed hers, gently, in broad daylight, she thought he had probably imagined it too.

Granny’s was abuzz with the Sunday lunchtime rush, but once the proprietor had noticed their entrance she quickly hurried them over to an empty booth in the corner, bestowing a fond smile on Killian and tousling his hair as she did so. Killian batted her hand away, but Emma could tell he was pleased. Due to their friendship with Ruby, she and Killian were always more than welcome in the Lucas household, which included some added benefits when the household was attached to a diner.

Nonetheless, she was still surprised when instead of her usual diet coke, Granny instead marched proudly over with a large, almost clumsily put together cake with bright pink, uneven frosting, and placed it down in front of her.

The words Happy Birthday Emma! had been wobblily written across in blue icing.

When Emma lifted her surprised gaze from the cake, she met Killian’s grinning face looking distinctly pleased with himself.

“You remembered?” She was sure he’d completely forgotten, amid everything that had happened over the last few weeks.

To his credit, Killian almost looked offended at the notion. “Of course,” he insisted. “I was up at the crack of dawn making this!” A throat was cleared loudly above them, and Killian conceded; “Well, Granny helped.”

“And bought the ingredients, and provided the kitchen space?”

“Granny,” Killian was smiling, although he spoke through gritted teeth, “would you actually mind if – could we have a moment, please?”

Emma missed whatever look of understanding likely passed between the pair of them, as Granny then retreated quickly, but she found herself struck by the image of Killian back in the kitchen of the diner, fussing about how to get the cake just right. Lanky limbs would get in the way, flour would get everywhere; Killian didn’t know the first thing about baking.

Which was probably why it looked so lumpy, like a child had moulded it out of clay.

It was – even more than Ruth’s beautiful desk set, perhaps – startlingly thoughtful.

“Do you… like it?” He was nervous, which was when Emma realised she hadn’t spoken, so she quickly smiled to reassure him.

“It probably tastes better than it looks, right?”

Killian snorted, and Emma too started to laugh. Before long they had both dissolved into fits of laughter, and after Granny had returned with a knife and couple of plates, they had each cut themselves a generous slice and agreed that yes, definitely, it tasted far better than it looked.

“I got you something else,” Killian said later, after she’d shovelled the last mouthful in of her third slice, and declared she couldn’t eat another bite.

“Oh god, if it involves icing I’m going to have to respectfully decline.”

Killian smiled obligingly, but waved her off before reaching into his jacket. Emma could tell from the way he hesitated that he was nervous, and that was enough to make her own pulse race a little quicker. A gift from David or Ruth she could graciously, if awkwardly, accept, but Killian had always been something else. They did not waste trinkets on each other, they never had – money had never been an infinite tool at their disposal, even in the kindness under Archie’s roof.

What Killian withdrew from his coat was a thin white envelope, with her name written neatly across it.

“Alright,” Emma gave him a suspicious look as he handed it over, “colour me intrigued.”

Killian’s hands moved from their place resting atop the table to being clasped together, before separating again restlessly. It took a moment for Emma to register what the small slip of paper that slid out of the envelope was.

STATE OF MAINE DEPARTMENT OF TRANSPORT FROM: Storybrooke TO: Augusta DEP: 23Jun15 18:00 SCHED: 8150 -- TICKET FOR SCHEDULE 8150 / 23Jun15 FARE $23.00

She felt like she’d seen a hundred of them before – but she still didn’t really understand what she was seeing. Her gaze lifted to Killian, fidgeting in his seat, and she bit her lip. “What am I looking at?”

“I know this town isn’t where it ends, not for you,” Killian said by way of answer. “I’ve always known that, like I know how to tie my own shoelaces. You love David, and Ruth, and Regina and Ruby and Mary Margaret, but you want more. You always have. You deserve more.” His words zinged with a nervous sort of energy, and Emma felt her heart begin to pound against her ribcage. “So I’m trying to… give you more.”

“It’s a bus ticket.”

“It’s for the date of graduation,” Killian hurried to point out, swallowing as he waved at the ticket. She noticed that yes, it was. “I wanted to buy a plane ticket, but then – I mean, turns out plane tickets are super expensive, and I also wasn’t sure where you’d want to go, so—”

“So your birthday present to me,” Emma began slowly, lowering the envelope, trying to make sure she had this right, “is to sit me on a bus and send me out of town next year?”

“Well, actually I was hoping,” Killian replied, fumbling with his pocket for a moment, “that you’d want to sit next to me.”

Gently, he placed a matching ticket on the table beside hers.

The stuttering tones of Only You by Yaz began crooning from the jukebox, and Emma decided it was her favourite song in the entire world.

“It’s, erm – it’s more of a symbolic gesture, really. I thought, if you wanted, that we could get as far as Augusta and then make it up from there. Like – maybe Boston, you know? Or New York? Or, and I’m thinking if I can put enough money aside, maybe we could get a plane ticket. In fact, Augusta seems like a stupid idea now. And also, wow, super presumptuous. Who says you even want to leave? This is officially the worst idea I’ve ever had.” He continued speaking to fill the vacuous space left by her silence, peering closely at his ticket. “I think I can get a refund if I –”

Emma was up on her feet, rounding the table so she could slide in beside him in the booth before he could finish the sentence. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and kissed him hard on the cheek.

She wasn’t sure what made her do it, but she felt overwhelmed by warmth. On a day that had started uncertainly Killian Jones, as always, was joy and thoughtfulness. All at once to her he was twelve years old and kind and scared but also seventeen and fierce and wanting, and he had bought them both a ticket out of Storybrooke for the day their obligations ended. Future with Killian was limitless; there was only sky for miles and miles and miles.

She couldn’t wait.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly, to Killian’s dazed expression. “For always knowing exactly what I want before I do.”

“You’re… you’re welcome.”

He probably noticed the exact moment she did the proximity her new position had granted them. Emma realised, with a shot of unexpected and terrifying delight, that they were now just inches apart. All it would take was the slightest movement forward from either of them to finally satisfy their curiosity. From the way Killian’s gaze flickered down to her lips she could tell the same thought had crossed his mind. Knowing him, he was probably waiting to see what she would do.

All other sound tuned out in an unhurried manner, as if someone were slowly turning the volume down on the diner, on the conversation of the patrons and the sound of cutlery on plates or Granny’s loud repetition of the orders she had just received, except for the jukebox. The electronic bop of Only You still tiptoed up and down the scale, and Emma felt herself swaying dangerously forward. She could spot a scratch of youthful, patchy stubble beginning to grow on his chin, and the barely visible scar on his right cheek from when they were fourteen and Regina had flung a pencil at him with excessive force. She knew the curve of his mouth as well as she knew her own.

But she just – she couldn’t. Not now. They’d made plans together, important plans. She couldn’t bear it if there were any reason she couldn’t sit beside Killian on that bus to Augusta.

Besides, the future was only sky. They had all the time in the world.

Emma cleared her throat, smiling self-consciously and sliding her arms back from around his neck. It burst the bubble, and Killian too shook his head lightly as if to jog himself back into the moment.

After a beat of nervous chuckling, Only You became the song she had almost kissed Killian Jones to.

She returned to her seat opposite him.

“Really, thank you,” she said, and she meant it. “Augusta suits me just fine.”

Killian bowed his head shyly.

“Just as well,” he muttered, “it was pretty much all I could afford.”

-/-

Present Day

“Emma?”

He had waited until dark to return to Brooke House, snatching a few hours of restless sleep from within his room at Granny’s, but he still felt tormented by the faces in the town he had left behind. His phone was notably absent of any texts from David, and Regina had left his last message on read and not bothered to reply. Mary Margaret’s offer of confidence fell flat when he knew the things he wanted to share she didn’t truly want to hear. Even Ruby had avoided him, not wanting to finish their earlier conversation.

All Killian could think about was Emma.

I’m exactly where you left me, Killian Jones.

The only one who saves me is me.

Something had survived in that house, and after all this time he wanted answers. Be it vengeful spirit, demonic manifestation or the soul of the girl he had loved, the not knowing simply wasn’t enough anymore. The visage of her had robbed him of his confidence, stolen him away from the barely cultivated life he had built from the debris of his own making, and he wasn’t leaving Storybrooke until he could close this chapter for good.

He had left the dagger behind, wrapped it in an old scarf and stuffed it under the seat in his Chevelle – it felt safer there than hidden in his room at Granny’s. He wasn’t sure if the old lady would come snooping again and he didn’t want to tempt fate by leaving something so conspicuous anywhere she could find it.

Peering into the gloom of the living room, Killian called her name again, and at first the only answer was the sway and creak of the old house, but before long he felt her enter the room. Like all the air had been sucked out, and only a light ringing in his ear could be heard over the deep, deadly cadence of her voice.

“Welcome back.” She spoke from somewhere near his elbow, but when he turned she had already moved far away to the window, the curtain lifted by a breeze with nothing natural about it. “Do you feel a little better now?”

Not as blindsided, maybe. But better?

“Where have you been?” Killian started. Brooke House had disappeared with Emma, that had been well documented by all of them. Its return now had to mean something. “What happened to you?”

Emma surveyed him shrewdly, tilting her chin upwards. A black petal fell from her crown, but landed delicately in her outstretched palm.

“You want to know if I’m still me.” Her tone was almost accusatory when she spoke, before it curled into something awful and amused. “Oh, Killian, don’t tell me you’re still carrying that particular torch. That’s so… sweet.”

Killian felt himself flush angrily, but was sure in the dark she wouldn’t even notice. The heat was a welcome change from the cold that surrounded her.

“I want to know what the bloody hell happened that night.”

Her gown was the same white he had seen the night before, and it audibly swished as she moved across the floor, slowly, daintily, like a ghost of pure ivory.

“Do you remember my eighteenth birthday?” she said instead, ignoring him. When she smiled her eyes were black and Killian had to look away. In an instant she was beside him, brushing a chilled hand down his arm. “You took me to Granny’s, gave me that awful cake. And that pathetic little bus ticket.” She laughed cruelly and Killian ripped his arm from her grip. “God, it’s true what they say, isn’t it? Everything you do as a teenager does make you cringe when you grow up.”

Rage began to build beneath the surface of his skin, and he gritted his teeth.

Don’t, he begged. Don’t take away those moments.

Precious, fugacious things.

In the coolness of her presence, everything was ashes.

“What are you?”

“Is that where you started, I wonder?” she continued loudly, tilting her head far to the side. It was a decidedly inhuman gesture, her neck bent farther than could be comfortable. “On that bus to Augusta? Did you get on it by yourself with those big, sad eyes, and wish I’d been sitting there too?”

Killian felt a humiliating sting behind his nose and turned abruptly away. He wouldn’t let her see it. He wouldn’t let her take another part of him without a fight. Instead, he jolted in surprise when he felt something press into his back. Killian knew it must be the curve of her forehead, as her two hands came to rest above it, between his shoulder blades, hard fingers curling into his jacket.

“I felt it as you walked the Earth, Killian Jones. Every step. My dagger has tasted so many wonderful places.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, like drizzle in the fall. Constant and sad and desperate and desirable. “You said it yourself. This town isn’t where it ends for me.”

Her nails were beginning to sting his shoulder, but he daren’t turn around. Somehow he felt more powerful with his back to her, with her clinging to him like a child. By fair means or foul, it soothed a little of the ache of the years he had spent clinging to her with a similar fervour.

“What,” he hesitated, cleared his throat so he didn’t sound so hoarse, “what do you want?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions.”

Her fingers dug in harder as he felt her lift herself onto her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear. When she spoke again it was harsh and granular and the melodic lilt was gone.

“I want to be free of this house.”

The moment Killian chose to pull himself away was the same moment she released him, and when he spun around he saw her again standing by the window and looking out. With her admission hanging deadly in the air, the words still ricocheting across his skull, he thought she looked almost longing. Sad. Or hungry.

“But David,” he said, making his bemusement clear, “Ruby – they said they saw –”

A figure at the end of the bed.

On the edge of Main Street.

Killian, himself, had seen the whisper of a gown swish closely out of sight.

Only You had been playing around him for days, on radios, in shops, aching, wanting, reminding him of everything that never was, the roads that time had closed. He had assumed that was her doing.

“Oh, I can test the boundaries,” Emma dismissed him with the wave of a hand, “stretch my limits. But I’m always tethered here.”

With a start she was in front of him, and if the concerned crease of her brow and the roundness of her eyes were enough to make him forget the gaunt pallor or the ice of her touch, he might’ve thought he were staring at Emma Swan as he had known her. She clutched at his hands painfully tightly.

“Help me, Killian,” she begged, and her voice had become light and youth and – normal. “Let me out. Please.”

His lips parted. For a moment, a desire overwhelmed him to run to the Chevelle, to grab the dagger and bring it back to Brooke House, to lay it at her feet. He desperately wanted to please her. He knew not why other than the sensation that he must, and his body tensed, readying itself for the journey.

Only something triumphant had flickered in Emma’s expression then, and it was enough to wrench him out of the thrall. He trembled with the effort of keeping himself steady, almost stumbling forward right into her.

“You?” he gasped. “Or what’s inside you?” With effort he pushed her away, gripping her shoulders and holding her at arm’s length. “I won’t do it.”

It seemed imperative that whatever restless spirit had taken root in Storybrooke, it should never be able to leave.

Within seconds he was only holding empty air and Emma was gone again.

This time when she spoke, the deep, heavy voice was back, talking as imperiously as he would expect from something so hostile.

“Even if I could tell you what happened to your brother?”

Killian did a double take, but Emma wasn’t in the room anymore. He scrambled out the door into the hallway and found her mounting the stairs, the muddied edge of her gown trailing behind her.

“Liam?”

“I know now, don’t you see?” she threw over her shoulder. “I’ll tell you everything – but only if you help me.”

Killian shook his head fiercely. “You’re not her.” Maybe she never was. “My Emma didn’t play games. And whatever you are, you can be damned sure I will never help you.”

He couldn’t see Emma’s expression as she disappeared up onto the landing, and she sounded much farther away than should be possible.

“You don’t have to decide now,” she murmured, Killian straining his ears to hear her. “‘Looking from a window above, it’s like a story of love…’”

Gritting his teeth, Killian pounded up the stairs behind her, the wood groaning in protest, but she was already gone. As a cursory gesture he threw open the door to the room with the spinning wheel, and although it continued to spin eerily slowly, the by now familiar creek accompanying its every complete rotation, Emma was nowhere to be seen. Based on his experiences the day prior, he was certain he wouldn’t find her in any other room in the house.

Back in the hallway, he considered heading back to the Chevelle and retrieving the dagger. Surely that would lure her back.

He dismissed it almost immediately – not tonight.

Tonight he would let himself mourn.

Tomorrow, the real work began.

#jay writes #a house is never still #cs role reversal #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #cs au #cs halloweek #still tagging halloweek even though we are long #long past it #killian jones #emma swan #here it iiiisss!

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

Text

Sins of the Past Pt.27

Storybrooke. The Dragon’s Lair. (After finally managing to get everyone out of the bar, Zelena stays late to clean up.) Zelena: (Hearing a noise outside, calls out:) “We’re closed!” (Walking to the door she peers through the blinds but sees no one. Checking the door is locked, Zelena walks back to the bar when she hears a door close down the hallway. Reaching behind the bar she retrieves a baseball bat and goes to investigate. Heading down the steps that lead to the stock room, Zelena sees that the door is ajar. Pushing it open, she grips the bat with both hands and enters the room.) Robin Hood: “Zelena!” (Dropping the bat, Zelena rushes over to Robin, who is tied to a chair.) Zelena: “Robin. Oh, my God. What happened?” (The door slams shut and Mordred appears behind them.) Mordred: “I happened.”

Zelena: “Ah, so you’re the one everyone’s been searching for. What a disappointment. (Mordred draws a knife:) Stop. (Puts her hands up:) Robin’s got nothing to do with this, okay? You’ve got me now. Okay? Just let him go.” Mordred: “You know, I think people like you give magic a bad name. People like you are the reason Uther banished magic from Camelot, why my father was killed and my people forced to live in caves.” Zelena: “I never even crossed paths with Uther. I didn’t force him to make those choices. And neither did my sister or Emma or anyone else you want to blame for your pitiful existence. You can’t go around killing people because of my bad mistakes.” Mordred: “Yeah, you’re right. It’s time for me to just kill you.” (Mordred lunges at Zelena with the knife, slicing her palm. Trying to put distance between them, Zelena topples over some barrels, causing Mordred to drop the knife. Punching and kicking the man, Zelena gains the upper hand until Mordred sweeps her legs. In an effort to free himself, Robin tips over his chair. Momentarily distracted by this, Mordred allows Zelena to gain possession of the knife and she charges him.) Zelena: (Pinning him against the wall, knife at his throat:) “I don’t want to hurt you.” Mordred: (Chuckles:) “Yes, you do. Do it. What’s one more kill to the Wicked Witch?” Zelena: “No. I’m not that person anymore. I’ve changed. (Knocks him out with the hilt of the knife:) More or less. (Returns to Robin’s side:) Are you hurt?” Robin: “I’m fine, just a little embarrassed, I’ll admit.” Zelena: (Smiles:) “Let me untie you, and I’ll allow you to prove your manliness to me, all right?” Robin: “Agreed.” (While Zelena leans over to untie him, Robin glances over to see that Mordred has now vanished and taken the bloody knife with him.) Sheriff’s Station. (David and Snow White are shoved into two holding cells. Snow collapses onto the bed, barely able to remain upright while David pleads his case to Hook.) David: "This is just one big misunderstanding.” Hook: “No I understand perfectly, mate. Your wife gets drunk, causes an uproar and attacks my wife. My daughter then has to step in, while still recovering from her ordeal I might add, and calls me to help clean up the mess. Is there anything else you’d like to add?” David: “I suppose another apology won’t make a difference?” Hook: “Oh it’ll make all the difference in the world. But not from you. (Points:) She has to apologise to Mal and Lily here tomorrow morning when she’ll actually have to mean what she says. Until then you can both sleep it off and sober up. Have a good evening.” David: (Hook turns off the lights and leaves:) “Hook! Hook! (Turning at the sound of loud snoring, David sees that his wife has already fallen asleep:) Great.”

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. The Next Morning. (With the sunlight pouring through the curtains, Emma rolls over and purrs in Regina’s ear.) Emma: “Morning sunshine.” Regina: (Her voice slightly hoarse:) “Is it morning already?” Emma: (Kisses her shoulder and then her neck:) “Mmhmm.” Regina: (Opens her eyes and squints at the sun:) “Ugh. Anything you can do about that?” Emma: (Chuckles:) “One too many last night?” Regina: “I guess so. Though not as many as your mother, I’ll wager.” Emma: “Hm. Speaking of, I just got a text from Lily, I’d better go in and bail my parents out of jail.” Regina: “Put on some coffee before you go? I promised I’d take Ella to my office to check some records.” Emma: (Kisses her cheek:) “You got it.” (Emma gets out of bed while Regina plants her face in the pillow, trying to avoid the sunlight.) Camelot. Forest. (Morgause meets her undead knights in the woods. They dismount their horses and bow before her.) Camelot Castle. Council Chamber. (Guinevere and Morgana listen to Lancelot while he recounts what happened at Idirsholas.) Guinevere: “So it’s true, the Knights of Medhir have risen?” Xena: (Cutting in:) “Yes and there’s only one person foolish or desperate enough to raise such an army.” Gabrielle: “Morgause.” Morgana: (Panicked, to Guinevere:) “Guin, I had no knowledge of this, I swear.” Guinevere: “Are you certain that Morgause is behind this?” Xena: (Scoffs:) “Now is not the time to wait for proof.” Gabrielle: “Your Majesty, need we remind you the last time we waited for evidence of Morgause’s guilt?” Xena: (Draws her sword and points it at Morgana:) “Or hers for that matter.” Guinevere: (Stepping between Xena and Morgana:) “Enough! I trust Morgana and I will not have her threatened like this.” Xena: (Lowers her sword:) “She may have you fooled but right now there’s an army of the undead riding towards Camelot and we have no way of stopping them.” Guinevere: (Nods. To Lancelot:) “Gather reinforcements, position every available man we have at the gates. If we can’t stop them we can at least slow them down.” Lancelot: “It will be done, my Queen.” (Lancelot leaves with his knights while Xena continues to glare at Morgana.)

Wonderland. (Will and Anastasia walk through the woods.) Will: “Remind me again why you can’t just poof us to Storybrooke?” Anastasia: “A lot’s happened since you’ve been away. There was a coup in Camelot, refugees, captured dragons, it’s been a whole drama. Long story short, Storybrooke’s borders are magically protected, so I can’t get us there using my magic.” The White Rabbit’s House. (Will knocks firmly on the door.) White Rabbit: (Calling out from inside:) “Nobody’s home!” Will: “Now, Rabbit, don’t be that way.” White Rabbit: “No rabbit here! Just a happy family enjoying some quality time together. Alone!” Will: “This won’t take more than a minute.” White Rabbit: “Time is a precious commodity, Knave. One minute is sixty seconds which is sixty thousand milliseconds. Do you know how much I can accomplish in sixty thousand milliseconds?” Will: “You wouldn’t be enjoying any milliseconds if I hadn’t found your bloody family. Now, open the door.” White Rabbit: (Reluctantly opens the door:) “What is it you want?” Will: “It’s not about what I want. (Steps aside, revealing Anastasia:) It’s about what she wants.” White Rabbit: (Shocked:) “Wha-” (The White Rabbit runs away from the door, taking refuge behind the kitchen stove. Will and Anastasia enter the house.) Anastasia: “Please, Rabbit, don’t be afraid. I’m not gonna hurt you.” White Rabbit: “You’ve already taken my wife, my children, my honor. What more could you possibly want from me?” Anastasia: “Your forgiveness.” Will: “It’s true, Rabbit, it’s been kind of her thing lately.” Anastasia: (Continues:) “What I took from you when I was the Red Queen, I can never give back, and there’s nothing that I can offer you to make up for what you’ve already lost, but what I can say is, I’m sorry, Rabbit. Terribly sorry.” White Rabbit: (Shakes his head, steps out from behind the stove:) “What’s done is done. Why do you care if I forgive you?” Anastasia: “Because we need your help.” White Rabbit: “With what?” Anastasia: “I need you to take us to Storybrooke, we don’t have much time but we need to make a stop on the way.” Storybrooke. Sheriff’s Department. (Snow White stands holding the bars to her cell while apologising to Lily, who seems uninterested.) Snow White: “I’m truly sorry, Lily. I don’t know what came over me.” Lily: “About six shots and a bacardi chaser, according to Zelena.” Snow White: “I never would have said any of those things if-” Lily: “If you weren’t drunk? Well that’s honest at least.” Snow White: “Please, Lily. We’ve been in here all night, we told Neal we’d only be a couple of hours.” Lily: (Holds up her coffee cup:) “I just saw Neal. He’s having a great time serving people napkins at Granny’s.”

Elsa: (Sitting perched on one of the desks:) “Oh yes he was so sweet, Snow. You should’ve seen him running around the diner laughing and talking to everyone. It was so-” Emma: (Enters:) “Charming?” David: “Emma, thank God. Please can you get us out of here?” Emma: “No can do, Dad. (Holds up a note:) It says here your release is dependent on you apologising to Maleficent.” David: “But it’s Thanksgiving!” Emma: “Right, which is why you should be thankful she’s not pressing charges against you two. Now I don’t want to be here any more than you do, I’m just here to keep the peace.” Snow White: “But eventually Neal’s going to worry where we are.” Emma: “Hey, you’re not the only one unable to pick up their kid. Since you’re both in here and because Regina’s helping Ella with something at her office, I had to ask Belle to pick up Maria from the convent for us.” Convent of the Sisters of Saint Meissa. (Arriving at the convent, Belle enters the babies’ nursery room, carrying a formula bottle for Maria.) Belle: “Why, hello, little one. Hey. Did you sleep well? Yeah?” Mother Superior: (Enters:) “Belle. What are you doing here?” Belle: (Holds up the bottle:) “Uh, formula for the baby?” Mother Superior: (Laughs:) “Of course. Here. I’ll help.” (She goes to pick up Maria but sensing something’s not quite right, Belle stops her.) Belle: “Uh, no it’s all right, I’ve got her.” Mother Superior: “Oh.” Belle: (Suspicious:) “Uh, Mother Superior, what… what’s going on?” Mother Superior: “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” Belle: “Mm…”

Mother Superior: (Enters, holding her wand:) “No, it’s not.” Belle: “What…” Mother Superior: (Stands in front of the imposter:) “Who are you?” Imposter: (Chuckles:) “You really are a clever fairy.” (Mordred morphs back into his normal appearance.) Belle: (Gasps:) “No, no, no. People are searching for you. Ho-How did you…” Mordred: “All you need to know is that I’ve come for the baby. So, if you wish to remain alive, step aside.” (Mordred picks up Maria who is now crying.) Belle: “Put her… put her down.” Mordred: “Or what? Hmm? You’ll smite me with your book learnin’?” Mother Superior: (Pointing her wand at Mordred:) “Oh, I have something more than that.” Mordred: “Please. Neither of you would dare risk hurting this child.” Belle: (Breathing heavily:) “No, you… you don’t want to take that baby.” Mordred: “Oh yes I do, and I don’t mind hurting you to get what I want.” Belle: “Okay. We’ll see.” (Belle reaches to try and grab Maria back, but Mordred’s eyes glow golden and he blasts Belle and Mother Superior backwards.) Mayor’s Office. (Regina enters her office and finds Ella looking through some of the files she requested.) Regina: “Well, Mr. K says that’s all the records he has available. Have you found what you needed yet?” Ella: “Almost.” Regina: (Glancing at her watch, anxious to get the turkey in the oven:) “Perhaps if you told me what you were looking for?” Ella: “I’m trying to reconcile in my head how someone so sweet and loving could do such terrible things to so many people.” Regina: “What?” Ella: “I could even forgive all of that and put it all down to you being in a dark place. But to stand there and lie to me, to send me on some wild goose chase when you’ve known the truth the whole time.” Regina: “Ella, I’m sorry but I don’t-” Ella: “Or maybe because you’ve killed so many, you just don’t remember her?” Regina: “Ella, what is this?” Ella: “I know it was you who killed my mother, Regina. (Pulling a carving knife from her back pocket, she slams it down on the desk in front of her:) And now I want to know why.”

Sheriff’s Department. (Now joined by Hook, Emma and Lily continue preparations to close down the office for the long holiday weekend.) David: “How much longer are you going to keep us here for? We have to go home, shower and change before coming to your place for dinner.” Hook: (Cutting in:) “Maleficent is a night person, mate. Always has been. She’ll make an appearance shortly, don’t worry.” Snow White: “Oh I’m not worried, I’m furious.” Hook: “Temper, temper. Perhaps it’s in the public’s interest to keep you behind bars after all.” Emma: (Rolling her eyes:) “Keep it together, Mom. I’m giving Maleficent another twenty minutes and then we’re all getting out of here.” (Zelena enters, accompanied by Robin.) Lily: “Zelena, Robin, what’s the matter?” Robin: “My Mom was attacked by that knight you’re all looking for.” Emma: “Mordred? When did this happen?” Zelena: “Last night after Regina’s show. I was closing up and-” Robin: “Mordred tied up Robin Hood in the basement and slashed my Mom’s hand with a knife. Show them.” (Robin grabs Zelena’s hands raises it.) Hook: “Why haven’t you used your magic to heal it?” Zelena: “I’ve tried that, genius. There must’ve been a magical substance on the blade or something to stop the wound from closing.” Emma: “Why would Mordred come after you?” Zelena: (Shrugs:) “Family is always an easy target. (Inclines her head towards the cells:) And I see those two idiots are already locked up. Maybe he figured by going after me he could get to you?” Emma: “If it’s me he wants, why not come directly at me?” Lily: “What took you so long to report this?” Zelena: “Oh I had to spend the night soothing Robin Hood’s ego. Besides, I walloped Mordred pretty thoroughly, I doubt he’ll be coming after me again.” Rumplestiltskin: (Enters:) “No, he found an easier target.” Emma: (Sees him enter with Belle, carrying baby Gideon:) “Rumple, Belle, what- (Stops short:) That’s not Maria.” Belle: (Shakes her head, clutching Gideon tightly:) “No, I’m so sorry, Emma.” Emma: (Looking back and forth between Rumplestiltskin and Belle:) “Where’s Maria?!” Rumplestiltskin: “There’s no easy way to say this, but Mordred has your daughter, Emma. We believe he’s taken Maria to Camelot.”

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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softguks · 5 years

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once more part two

note: here is the highly requested part two!! please let me know what you think. i’m really really sorry about how late this is, i’ve just been extremely disappointed in my writing lately.

warnings: angst, kind of single mom au??

pairing: shawn mendes x reader

part one

—

The world is not always sunshine and rainbows, and y/n knows this by heart.

She gazes down softly at the toddler who is almost two years old, gently rocking the fussing baby to sleep. Her eyes are warm and brown, caramel colored with hints of dark brown. Like all the colors of chocolate swirled together, holding the galaxy in all their beauty. The lights flicker gently in her pretty eyes as she babbles, giggling when her mother blows a raspberry on her tummy.

Y/n’s gaze is both soft and sad, the light smiles and soft glances hiding years of pain and sorrow. She remembers what it was like to be in love. To be so fiercely in love, falling too fast and too hard, enveloping her entire being in a hazy glow. It felt like a spark, excitement and pure love burning in her veins, sending the glow of a thousand stars plucked from the sky and into her eyes. She had once held so much love for him, her heart overflowing with love, filled to the brim and yet she craved for more. But the spark had eventually died out, both of them too scared to acknowledge what both of them already knew. It was a scary feeling, to know that the person you once imagined spending the rest of your life with, no longer loves and is as infatuated with you as before.

She remembers sitting on the blue mat in the doctor’s office, the scent of chemicals and lollipops in the air as her figure shook. She was scared, scared of what she’d already knew, scared of what she had vowed to never feel again: vulnerable and defenseless, her walls beaten to the ground as she clutched to the ledges desperately. Her suspicions were confirmed when the doctor gave her a warm smile, breaking the news she was pregnant.

She was already three months along, hiding the small baby bump behind baggy clothes and oversized sweaters. And in one of her darkest times, she found a spark of hope, a light that she would treasure and hold onto, even if it didn’t last.

—

[ not quite two years ago ]

The birth of Emma was a painful one, but also one that y/n hopes to remember. She had never been so proud of how far she was able to come without someone. When it was just her and her long shifts, struggling to support her little family. She remembers the fear and dread tingling in the pit of her stomach when the doctor told her that Emma might not survive.

She was born two months premature, her lungs hadn’t fully developed and so the little baby was placed into an incubator for two weeks, with her crying mother by her side ever day, praying for a miracle.

Y/N brushes a strand of wavy brown hair away from Emma’s face, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as she blinks back tears. “Hi! Baby, I’m your mommy. I’m your mommy! I can’t believe I’m your mommy.”

[ present time, at the coffee shop ]

“Hey, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

Y/N scoffs, pushing her cup of tea away and scooting farther from Shawn. She can’t help but feel almost disgusted in his presence, frowning at him when he gives her a sad smile.

“I was wondering if I could visit Emma.”

She opens her mouth to speak, ready to argue against him when he cuts her off.

“I know it sounds shitty coming from me. I know it sounds pathetic and cliche, but I’m sorry. You-you don’t have to forgive me, but I need to apologize. Im sorry. I was...insecure and in a dark place, terrified you would grow tired of the constant distance and traveling part of my job. I was scared that you would leave me, and so I broke it off, trying to protect both you and me. I was wrong, so wrong, and I only hurt you more. I’m so sorry I was an idiot and for everything I’ve missed. I really want to be part of Emma’s life, if you won’t let me be part of yours. Please let me see her. Please.”

She’s never seen him so desperate, caramel eyes begging her with such desperation that she feels her heart melt. “Shawn, all I wanted was to be with you. I don’t care about the distance and the traveling. I know what I signed up for, and you left me. You didn’t talk with me, didn’t try to fight for us, you just broke up with me like I was nothing. I felt unloved and broken, like maybe I wasn’t worth fighting for and that nobody would ever want me. And going through pregnancy alone was so hard, Shawn. I really hope you mean your apology and that it’s not just to lessen the guilt that you feel.”

“I promise I’ve never been more sincere about anything in my life. But please, can I see Emma?”

She knows she shouldn’t see him, she’s read enough stories to know how it ends. But it feels real, it feels warm and gentle to know that he’s willing to try. She’s never been a person to give second chances, but maybe she’s willing to make an exception this time.

—

“Emma! Emma, baby, come here! Mommy’s home! Thank you so much Ally, for babysitting her. You are a life-safer.”

“Of course, Emma’s such a sweetheart. I’ll be back on Tuesday?”, Ally shyly asks, the sixteen-year-old waving at Emma.

“Thank you!”

“Mama! Mama!”, Y/N grins down at Emma, who’s currently too lazy to crawl to her mother and decides instead to repeatedly whine, waving her arms and sticking her pudgy fingers in the air. She’s lifted off the carpet and into the comforting arms of her mother as she stares at the man in front of her. “Tom? Tommy?”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head and pointing to Shawn, slowly saying his name out loud. “That’s Shawn. Shh-aaa-www-nnnn!”

“Shaw.”, the toddler declares, giggling when her mother tickles her tummy, pressing wet kisses over her rosy cheeks.

“You can hold her.”, Y/N’s voice is soft as she carefully hands Emma to Shawn, where their eyes lock. Her eyes are the same exact shade of toffee brown as his are, and Shawn is entranced by the child in front of him that’s his. His daughter. Emma. His Emma. He’s never been so awestruck, this toddler who he’s barely known for five minutes is tugging at his heartstrings and he knows he’s whipped. He knows he’s willing to die for her already and as he bounces her in his arms, pressing his nose to hers, he finds happiness again.

“I’ve met her for not even five minutes and I would die for her.”, he states confidently, heart lifting when Y/N laughs.

“She has that effect on people.”

The trio is interrupted when the doorbell chimes through the house, bringing Y/N out of her thoughts as she rushes to the door, grinning.

“That must be Tom!”, she calls out cheerfully, unlocking the door.

“Wait. Who? Tom-who?”

part three is coming! please reblog and leave some feedback if you liked it!

permanent taglist: @sunrise-shawn @curlsofshawn @tell-me-when-ur-ready @particularnervous @artemissravenclaw @heyits-claire @shawnieeboyy @turtoix @leiamutuals @waiting-to-be-myself @michellemxndes @devilmendes @imaginashawnns @hollandraul @goldenmndes @ly--canthrope @shawns-sunflower @peacedolantwins2 @justanotherfangurl272 @meowinggiraffe-blog @emma1the3queen @shawn-youth @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson @loserloverb @ykicantbefoundwithyou @tastebaldwin @ashwarren32 @madeinthemidnightmemories @causeshesinlovewithme @mendes-monarch (lmk if you want to be added/removed)

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fandomele · 5 years

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abuse Emma received at the hands of people who weren’t her enemies anymore/at the moment, nor high on dark magic/other mind-controlling forces

because after years I can at least vent a bit.

(Added a correction at the end)

Emma was victim of: -implied physical and emotional abuse in many foster homes even just in terms of negligence (the whole thing about how people foster kids just for the money they get, the way she talked about it ,seeing the all too aggressive mr. Raskind in the orphanage where she and Pinocchio landed first and where her first family sent her back)

-statutory rape** (correction at the end) & being framed for a crime she didn’t commit: regardless of the fact that this 16-17 homeless orphans who had just run away once again from a home because her last foster mother tried to push her in front of a car to prove to her that she had magic did steal food and such to survive, she had no part in the much bigger crime Neal committed stealing the watches. He, a much older man, had sex with her, promised her a new home, chose to run away because he didn’t want to be a part of how she’d fulfill her savior destiny since it meant meeting his abusive father again, and agreed that the best way to deal with it (aka make sure Emma wouldn’t find him) would be to make her take the fall for his crime and end up in prison. A great plan. (if ignoring someone’s pain and wishes and laughing it off while completely refusing to believe in someone else was considered abuse and not just being a toxic presence, that would be here too)

-at the very least emotional and verbal abuse from Regina, her step-grandmother, AFTER she stopped being the enemy, so after s2. It’s different when two are meant to be enemies, but once she was supposed to be part of her life, and Emma gave Regina a bit more power in how she(Regina)’d be able to affect her, the constant insults, lack of faith, blame for everything bad that happened to her (comes to mind how Regina reacted to Marian not being dead, even though Robin might and did still choose her, and even though Emma had basically saved a victim and now Regina was supposedly on the path of redemption and should be happy to have one less murder on her shoulders), as well as physical when Regina used the dagger to make Dark One Emma answer her questions, absolutely not necessary to do since Emma did open with Killian later. But Regina also showed and said to enjoy having that kind of power on Emma.

-attempted murder among other things? Gold, after supposedly joining the good guys for 4-5 times, Henry’s grandfather, tried to kill Emma, and Killian, and threats were made as well, while also were implied some pretty insulting things: like when he spoke to Milah and made it look as if Emma was jumping from her son to her ex like that, no mention of how young Emma had been with Neal or what else happened in there.

-at the very least manipulation, as a kid, by her friend Lily, which got her kicked her out of another house. I refused to write best friend since they barely knew each other one day and the show likes to exaggerate Emma’s relationships with others to justify her forgiving everything.

bonus because he was an enemy but she didn’t know:

-rape by deception/manipulation/violence at the hands of her fiance: Walsh knowing damn well who she was, that she had had her memories changed, and pretended to be a human being in love with her, dating her, asking her to marry him, all to keep her busy and away from Zelena’s plans. He then tried to kill her when she found out. It was all a gross criminal plan.

And what happened to them?

-Walsh: became a running joke for an episode or two. Unclear if he survived. Nobody took it seriously. -Gold: became part of the family, all forgotten, shows up for dinners and birthdays, Emma and Killian are supposed to be okay with that because? he’s her son’s grandfather I guess? -Regina is basically crowned queen of everything, more part of the family than ever, received more attention from Emma’s mother than Emma, never really had to pay for anything she did, Emma had to crawl to be forgiven for saving Marian -Neal is framed a hero EVEN IN THE WISHWORLD AU where she wasn’t supposed to meet him (an excuse to have Henry born so his attempt to murder Regina could wake her?), and kept being mentioned as a hero after his death. Her own little brother is named after him without consulting Emma. Apparently everybody just loved him because his reason to do what he did was.. just that good. -Lily is... a friend apparently, thankfully there wasn’t too much interaction there, so Emma didn’t have to be super nice to her for weeks too. -Her foster families can’t really pay for anything. But given that she had to be sent to this world because Regina intended to kill her, it’s all part of how Emma never really attacked Regina over it, never really got to yell at her and have Regina genuinely apologize for it. Bonus: When she’s the Dark One, and her actions have actually been tamer than any other Dark One’s and than the Evil Queen because she clearly wasn’t out for blood, and her sentiments were twisted by the darkness but she still held back on being cruel to her family the way she could have been, everyone united against her once they found out the truth about Killian, and Henry was the loudest about how she was worse than Regina and Gold because they were... trying to redeem themselves. Plus he barely tried to get through her, certainly less than he did with Regina when she refused to talk to him because upset about Robin. Her parents were busy in Camelot with Regina and knights, and only Killian was really there for her, Regina’s presence actively pushed her into using magic and losing control, and no one tries to understand what Dark Emma has done, why, and to comfort her.

** as @romanartemis pointed out, the age of consent is 16 in Oregon so while the show contradicts itself when it comes to Emma’s age and we don’t know the specifics, there is no evidence that Neal committed statutory rape. What he did in that area was legal.

#emma swan #anti regina mills #anti neal cassidy #anti swan queen #anti swanfire #anti gold #anti ouat #ele post

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years

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A Darker Curse

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 30: Heartbeat

August opened his bleary eyes and turned away from the offending sunshine that was peering through the blinds. He rolled away and right against another warm body, suddenly remembering everything from the night before. He gently put his arm around her bare waist and nuzzled her neck, earning him a sleepy sound from her. They had gotten a bit tipsy last night, but still had all their faculties when they made this step to intimacy.

"What a night…" she said. He smiled.

"Yeah...it was," he agreed, as she turned to face him.

"I haven't been this happy in a very long time," she admitted.

"So...that means you're moving to Storybrooke?" he asked hopefully.

"I kind of have to. I mean, that's where my boyfriend lives," she replied playfully. He grinned.

"You're right...that's where he lives," he agreed, as their lips met again and he tossed the covers over their heads.

~*~

Snow gave him a dreamy stare, as their lips parted again, and they cuddled close. He fed her another bite of pancakes and then took one himself. Emma rolled her eyes from across the booth and tore up some more cut up pancakes on her son's tray.

"Guys...I love you, but we're in public," she complained. Snow winced.

"Sorry honey…" she said.

"It's just been a long time since I've been this happy, especially without any obstacles in our way," she added.

"Cora's gone, the curse is broken, and we're all together," she gushed. Emma smiled.

"And I'm happy about all of that, but maybe just a little less making out at breakfast," she replied. David chuckled.

"We'll try, princess," he offered, making her roll her eyes playfully again, just as Neal and his family arrived.

"Good morning," he said, as he kissed the top of little David's head. Their son looked up at him and cooed.

"Morning," Emma said, as he slid into the booth beside her, after pulling up a table so his father and Belle could join them.

"Neal told us you had a late night visitor," Belle mentioned. Snow grimaced.

"We did and I know he's hurting. I feel bad...but I'm not giving up my son," she replied.

"You shouldn't have to. He went about trying to reconnect with August in all the wrong ways," Belle assured.

"She's right...he lied to us and he should be thanking you," David agreed.

"I know...I just want my son to be happy. I hope Geppetto feels the same and just gives him a little time, because I know August will eventually forgive him. If he lets him," Snow said, as they finished up and continued to talk, while Neal, Belle, and Gold ate. Just as they were getting ready to part ways for the day, with David going to the station with Emma, and Snow heading for her first day as Deputy Mayor, without Cora around, they heard a terrible scream coming from the Inn. Neal picked up little David and all of them hurried over there to see what was going on.

~*~

Graham approached the vault in the cemetery with cautious optimism. Now that he had his memories back, he was reflecting on everything and naturally regretted his part in any of Cora's plot, but knew now it was because he literally had no choice. Cora had taken his heart, long ago, after his part in helping Snow and Charming. He didn't regret it though. They were good people and deserved none of what Cora had done to them. He was just glad it was finally over and she was gone. He hadn't even considered that getting his heart back would be an option. He was just glad the person that could use it against him was gone. So when Regina had called and told him he had that option, he had quite literally jumped out of bed.

"Good morning," Regina greeted, as he arrived.

"Morning," he said anxiously.

"I...I don't really know how this part works," Regina said, as the three of them walked into the vault.

"I watched her do a lot of magic, but I'm afraid she never gave any hearts back. So…I'm not really sure how this works," she said, as Graham approached the breathing wall. It was as creepy as he remembered, but one compartment seemed to glow brighter red than the others.

"Well...perhaps it will be easier than anticipated," Robin commented, as he watched his wife extract the compartment and take the heart out.

"I'll try to be gentle," she promised. He nodded.

"It's okay...I'm ready," he said, as she pushed the organ into his chest and he took a sharp breath and felt a flood of emotion course through him. He hadn't felt anything in so long that suddenly doing so was almost overwhelming. But in a good way.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome...and I'd like Emma to remain Sheriff, but I am sure she could use a second deputy to cover the night shift," she suggested. He nodded.

"Emma should be Sheriff and David should have the daytime deputy position so he can be with Snow in the evening. I'm the obvious choice for the night shift...I prefer it anyway," he agreed. Regina nodded, as her phone rang and she answered it.

"Snow?" she asked, as she heard her sister's panicked voice on the other end.

"Oh...okay, we'll be right there," she said, as she hung up.

"What was that about?" Robin asked.

"We need to get over to the Inn. I'll tell you both on the way," she replied, as they followed her.

~*~

"Granny?" Emma called, as they looked around the deserted lobby of the Inn.

"Up here!" they heard her call, as Snow and David followed their daughter upstairs, hand in hand. When they got there, they found the older woman with one of her maids, who was crying hysterically.

"What's going on?" David asked.

"In there," Granny said, as Emma opened the door and was unable to warn her father, before her mother and the others saw the scene. Snow cried out and covered her mouth with her hand, as David pulled her back. She turned away, as he hugged her close, while observing the gruesome scene.

"Do not bring Belle or the baby in here!" Emma called to Neal and Gold, as the latter peered inside. Blood and brain matter was splattered all over the wall, as Greg Mendell lay dead on the floor, his eyes frozen open in death.

"What's going on?" August asked, as he and Tink exited the room down the hall and approached, hand in hand.

"Mom?" he asked, seeing how incredibly shaken she was.

"I'm going to help Emma," David told her, as he kissed her forehead and prodded her toward August, who hugged her.

"Stay with her…" he said. August nodded, as Tink looked in the room.

"Oh my God...Greg…" she uttered.

"Greg is dead…" she said, as she looked back at August.

"We...we just saw him last night," August replied.

"Which means you two might be the last people to see him alive, other than whoever killed him," Emma said, as she and David observed the scene.

"It might not mean anything, but he was shot in the temple and not in the back of the head," David said.

"It might. Back of the head would suggest surprise or execution," Emma replied.

"What was his state of mind?" she asked the other blonde.

"It was good...really good. He was still sad about his father's death, but he had accepted that the person that did it paid for it," she said.

"She's right...he planned to leave town. He was uncertain, but seemed like he was ready to find a new start," August offered.

"Did you have any trances last night?" Emma asked.

"Uh no, I was...busy," he replied.

"Do you think it might come to you?" Neal asked. August shrugged.

"I don't know...it might. But I can't force a trance. They just happen and I don't control them," he replied.

"I'll run out to the squad car and get the crime scene kit. Guess I'll be getting that training you were going to give me on the job," David said, as he kissed Snow quickly and hurried outside.

"Who would kill him?" Tink wondered.

"I don't know...you know him better than me," Emma replied.

"And we won't know until we get an autopsy, but we have to consider suicide," she added.

"No...that makes no sense," Tink refuted.

"The angle of the bullet hole suggests that it's a possibility," Emma said.

"Nothing in his demeanor suggested he was suicidal. He was actually...hopeful," Tink replied, as Emma stood up and put gloves on, as David returned.

"Okay...let's toss the room," she said, as they started searching through everything. David opened the chest of drawers and found a liquor bottle that was almost empty.

"Em...I need a bag," he called, as she tossed him one.

"Empty?" she asked.

"Almost," he replied.

"Maybe he got a little less hopeful," she said.

"No…he was in a good place. I'm telling you," Tink argued.

"His father was murdered and he didn't get to play any active role in making Cora pay. It's possible that he had a drink last night and it hit him that he wasn't going to get a satisfying closure," Emma argued back.

"Or someone wants us to think it's suicide," Tink said.

"Okay...if you think he was murdered, then by who?" David asked.

"He's right...the only other person from your team is still in lock up at the station," Emma replied.

"The only other person here...but trust me, the home office runs deep. Pan has a ton of sheep that follow him and do his bidding all over. Greg wanted out," Tink said.

"He said that?" Emma asked.

"Word for word," August confirmed.

"Then you think we may have another outsider in town?" David asked.

"Another outsider?" Regina asked, as they arrived and saw how upset Snow was.

"It's Greg Mendell...he's dead," Snow said.

"Murder?" she asked, as she came in now that they had the body covered with a sheet.

"The evidence suggests suicide, but Tink thinks that's what it's meant to look like. We won't know more until we get a complete autopsy," Emma replied.

"He wanted out...he told me and August that last night," Tink offered.

"Okay...that is a motive for murder. Any idea who would come to do the job?" Regina asked.

"I have an idea...but if she's here, then she won't reveal herself until she's ready to," Tink said.

"And who is this woman?" David asked, as Tink scrolled through her phone.

"Her name is Tamara...and she was Greg's supervisor, so to speak. She's the one that gets the orders from the Home Office and sent him here, posing as a district attorney," Tink replied, as she showed them the photo.

"What does she want?" David asked.

"Whatever the Home Office wants and even I don't know what that is. But Tamara...she hates magic and wants to destroy it. She's willing to do whatever dirty work they give her as long as the promised goal is destruction of magic," Tink replied.

"Which is this entire town," Gold said. Tink nodded.

"Then we need to find her," David replied.

"Which won't be easy. She's good at this," Tink said.

"Then we draw her out…" Regina suggested.

"How?" Snow asked and her sister smirked.

"This morning, I gave Graham his heart back and as you know, I have many more to return," she said.

"But it requires having the person it belongs to come forward, so we planned to announce to the entire town that anyone needing their heart back should come forward. All I have to do is offer the time to show up to my mother's vault, which is full of magic, and that would be too tempting for this person to ignore," Regina said.

"That's a good plan and we know what she looks like. We'll just have to keep our eye out, just in case she decides to disguise herself somehow," David replied.

"Snow and I can go to the television station now and have them tape a special announcement. I'll encourage them to have it ready for the evening edition of the news," Regina said.

"I can work up a quick front page story for tomorrow morning's mirror too," August agreed.

"We'll get the body to the morgue and get a rush on the autopsy," Emma said. Snow gave David a kiss, before leaving with Regina and Robin, while Graham went with them to the hospital once the morgue van arrived.

~*~

Geppetto entered the cathedral that morning and removed his hat, as he approached the altar.

"Hello Geppetto," Blue greeted solemnly.

"I have come for your help again…" he said.

"Geppetto…" she started to say.

"Please...just hear me…" he pleaded and she nodded.

"My boy...he will not talk to me and I fear he may never after what I did last night," he said.

"What did you do?" Blue asked.

"I visited Snow at her home...at a rather inappropriate time and the conversation became rather heated," he confessed.

"Oh Geppetto…" she chided.

"I know...I just wanted her to understand that he's my son! She needs to let him go!" he said.

"Geppetto...she has been a mother to him for twenty-years. You cannot expect a woman to let go of a child, whether she gave birth to that child or not. We are both lucky that Snow has not lashed out at us or shunned us completely," she reminded him.

"I know this...I know the Prince suffered greatly under the curse, but I had to do what I did for my boy. I sacrificed the Prince to Cora's curse to save my boy from it and I would do it again," he stated.

"And I think even the Prince understands why you did it and he is an honorable man that probably would have given up his spot to August if asked," Blue advised.

"Pinocchio! His name is Pinocchio!" Geppetto insisted.

"No...his name is August and he is a grown man now," she corrected.

"But if I am correct in my suspicions, he will not understand it if you speak harshly to his wife and neither will August," she advised.

"He threw me out...and August was not there. I asked around...and it seems he was with a young lady last night," he said, which peaked her interest.

"A young lady?" Blue asked.

"I believe she was once a fairy too. Tinkerbell I think is her name," he replied, as Blue's gaze narrowed.

"Please...you must help me get my son back," he said, interrupting her thoughts.

"You must give him time...he'll come around," she insisted.

"That is what everyone keeps telling me! But it won't happen! He refuses to have anything to do with me. It would be different if he was still a little boy," Geppetto said, as his eyes widened at that.

"That is the answer…" he realized and Blue became worried when he looked at her.

"You can help me with magic!" he exclaimed.

"You can make him a little boy again!" he insisted.

"No...we can't do that to him," she refuted.

"You must!" he cried.

"You must turn him back! You gave him life in the first place! You can reverse him back to the way he was!" Geppetto insisted.

"Not against August's will I cannot...you would be asking me to take his choice away. His free will...his humanity. It is wrong, Geppetto," she replied.

"Please...you must give me this second chance with my boy!" he cried tearfully and her heart ached for him.

"And what will you say to Princess Snow when you take away a child that she loves? A child that she has raised? You will break her heart and we did that once already when we separated her and the prince," Blue said.

"She has another child! And a grandchild! Not to mention that she has gotten her youth back!" he said heatedly.

"She is young again and can bear more children! I cannot have another child! I did not get my youth back! This is my last chance!" he cried. She nodded mutely.

"We will figure something out," she replied vaguely, as she comforted him.

~*~

"Good afternoon, fellow citizens of Storybrooke," Regina said, as she looked at the camera from the podium, with Snow standing beside her.

"We wanted to take a moment to speak to you all, now that the curse has been broken," she continued.

"We know that some may still be fearful, but we are here to assure you that the time for fear has passed. My mother, former Mayor Cora Mills, is dead," she announced.

"Back in our land, she earned the moniker of the Evil Queen and it was well earned," she added.

"She killed many people and hurt many more. I cannot right all of her wrongs, but there are some that I can fix. My mother took many hearts, those of which are here in Storybrooke," she continued.

"As a gesture of goodwill and a marker of a new era in this town, I am inviting all those that she stole from to come to my vault, tomorrow morning, to receive it back," she added.

"I know that my mother's vault may be a scary place, because of all the magic inside, but I assure you that I have everything under control and will return what belongs to you," Regina said, as Snow stepped to the microphone.

"We know things are still uncertain and that's why we are inviting the whole town to the park nearby for a town wide celebration to begin this new era of peace and love. You no longer have anything to fear and we promise to lead this town into a bright future," Snow concluded, as the camera panned back to the regular reporting and the two women stepped away from the podium.

"I hope that did the trick," Regina murmured.

"You mentioned the magic in the vault. If she's really interested in destroying or even just getting a sample of the magic, such a setting will be too tempting," Snow reasoned. She nodded.

"I hope so...I don't want to think that we just gave false hope when we might have a killer in our midst," Regina said.

"We'll stop her if we do," Snow insisted, as the two of them headed out to return to their offices for the remainder of the day.

~*~

"And that was our new esteemed Mayor, Regina Mills, and her deputy Mayor, Snow White, inviting those that had their hearts stolen by the Evil Queen Cora to gather tomorrow morning at the Mills family vault to have what was taken returned to them. In addition, the Mayor and Deputy Mayor will be holding a celebratory gathering in the park nearby as well," the news droned on and Tamara flipped the television off. She had set up a trailer in the woods and tapped into the local cable. That vault was like a gold mine. She would have to be careful, but she needed to get into that.

"Guess I'm going to a celebration tomorrow," she said, as she grabbed a scarf and some sunglasses, confident that it would be an adequate disguise...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #Emma Swan #August W. Booth #Neal Cssidy #Tinkerbell #Rumbelle #Wooden Fairy #Swanfire #AU #CORA cast the curse #evil Cora #romance #adventure #family #a darker curse

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