#I criticize people who avoid taking animals with surprise sickness or injuries to the vet

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

i think the most annoying part of dog food discourse is how many people will act as though proplan/hill’s/Royal canin diets aren’t extremely and prohibitively expensive and that THAT is the reason so many people look into healthy alternatives.

People complain about corn being in the first five ingredients on most of those feeds because, regardless of other factors here, that is not an expensive ingredient. But it makes up a large chunk of the dry food. So the dry food should be fairly affordable, right?

Oh… with tax you’re spending about $100 for one 45lb bag of food where the third ingredient is wheat and the fourth and fifth ingredients are corn.

Oh… well! It’s slightly cheaper! But the second ingredient is rice, third is wheat, fourth is corn, and then fifth is poultry byproduct. None of those are very expensive so this just must be the low end cost of dog food unfortunately. The vets recommend it so surely that means prices aren’t inflated, right?

Oh? This one has similar ingredients with the only real difference being no corn? And it’s half the price?? Well surely that’s just a fluke.

Oh. Oh no.

This one even has CORN in it and it’s $20 cheaper?? Wow!

Like listen at some point I don’t care if your dog food has the ichor of the gods in it, I’m not spending $100 every five days if there are cheaper options with just as many “good” ingredients in it. If you think I’m a dog abuser because I can’t afford this overpriced garbage, that’s too bad. I don’t care. My dogs are perfectly healthy with the food I give them. Great weight and great coat. People giving dog food recommendations that aren’t those top three hyper-expensive dog foods aren’t trying to epic own those dastardly vets half the time, but I really don’t blame the ones who do lose trust in vets when the only heartworm protection they recommend lately are expensive triple-action brands like Simparica Trio that costs $120+ as opposed to the other heartworm protections that are only about $40-$60 on average, which is still cheaper even if you add on a $20-$40 flea and tick protection separately, and only recommend dog food that costs $85+ a bag even if your dog doesn’t have specialized dietary needs.

Those top three foods are GREAT at making competent prescription diets, I don’t deny that. I do still have to criticize the pricing of those prescription diets though because I have spoken to DOZENS of people who had to pull their pets off of a prescription diet and struggle to find something comparable because they couldn’t afford the food, and that’s terrible! These are not poor companies! Purina, Royal Canin, and Hill’s can ABSOLUTELY afford to lower their prices to make their food accessible to people who need it for their animals but they don’t. They probably never will. Because at the core they are run by greedy corporations. It doesn’t matter how many good nutritionists are on board if the company is run by people who put profits over customers and make the food impossible for people to afford.

[whumpywhumper]

Consequences

There is a section before this that I’m finding impossible to finish, but there’s nothing that would make this impossible to understand. It’s a lot of world building/story building, but hopefully you guys like it? I literally live on feedback so drop me a note :)

It’s set in the Investigation section of the timeline, following New York Part 2.

Masterpost 

Tagging: @misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites @unsure-but-alive-752 @jeverest00 @texdoeshalo @quirkykayleetam

I legitimately would not write without the hype of these three ladies: @0idril0 @rosesareviolentlyread @walkingchemicalfire 

TW: Some medical talk but let me know if I need to add a warning

V***V 

“This is my least favorite part of this job,” Clint sighed as he looked over the amount of paperwork that was still waiting for review in the impromptu command station.

“Yeah, I find myself missing my TAC suit and a stand off when I’m facing a mountain of paperwork,” Ben mumbled around the pen between his teeth.

Clint chuckled, looking up as the door to the conference room opened.

From the corner of his eye, Clint caught Ben’s frown as Kincaid entered the room, immediately catching something in his partner’s demeanor that concerned him. Kinciad’s  normally genial face was solemn, and Clint got a bad feeling himself as he caught the concentrated smell of antiseptic and multiple sick persons over something warmer, softer.  

“You okay, sweetheart?” Ben asked, straightening from the folder he had bowed over, nodding at the doctor that followed, the flap of air from the man’s white coat explaining the smells that had concerned Clint. “What happened?”

Kincaid swallowed, walking robotically as he moved to sit next to his lover, who only became more concerned, dropping his pen and reaching for his hands. “You guys need to hear this. Go ahead, doc?”

Raising an eyebrow at the doctor, who was shooting him a quizzical look, he nodded his greeting and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Clint.”

“Right, sorry Clint,” Kincaid huffed, rubbing his hand through his hair. “This is Dr. Decker, Dr. David Decker, he’s the head of the team on our John Doe. David, this is Clint Erickson, a consultant we’ve brought in on the case. He’s been read in, and we've already been given carte blanche by the social worker, so you’re free to give him any information like you would us.”

Dr. Decker took his hand in a firm grip, the tall, willowy man giving him a tight smile. “Good to meet you, you guys mind?” he asked, motioning toward the table.

“Not at all,” Ben murmured, his arm tight around Kincaid’s shoulders. “What’s going on, David?”

Setting the chart he’d been carrying under one arm on the table, the doctor sighed as he took the weight off of his feet, hissing as he stretched his legs. “Nothing good,” he answered, looking at Clint, “as Kincaid just informed you, I’m the lead intensivist treating the John Doe that was brought in. We are treating him for critical injuries, chronic sickness, and long term abuse. He’s been in one-on-one ICU care.”

He turned his gaze back to Ben and Kincaid. “I’m going to be blunt now, and I’m sorry cause I know how you’re taking this, Kincaid. He’s not getting better. He’s getting worse, a lot worse.

“When he was admitted, he was unconscious and in rapid decline. He was incubated in the field—“ he nodded to Kincaid and Ben, “—because he wasn’t able to maintain his airway. He was rushed to emergency surgery as soon as he arrived.

“Apparently, some fucking amateur of a surgeon attempted to make repairs following penetrating and blunt force trauma, but, with his lack of healing, those repairs didn’t hold up to the transport. Since the emergency surgery, we think he’s begun bleeding internally and has required transfusions to try and keep ahead of it—he’s just too weak right now for a follow up surgery so we’re trying to maintain without more invasive measures.”

David sighed, flipping open the chart and staring at the information there. His eyes didn’t move like he was reading, just looking through the information like he could find answers. “His labs are looking worse with each draw, he’s having unexplained seizures, and he’s just not healing the way that he should be. He’s going into organ failure, and he’s septic.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, David swallowed, not as unaffected as he wanted to project. “There’s only so much stress and pain that a body can take, and we don’t know how long this guy was held in that place. Nothing we’re doing is helping, and I don’t know how long he’s going to hang on like this.”

The doctor’s words rang in the following silence of the little room, both of the detectives leaning heavily on each other. Clint felt like he’d swallowed ice, the cold sitting heavily in his stomach.

“Fuck...” he muttered, hand rasping over his beard. He’d been doing this a long time, but it never got easier to rescue someone that wasn’t going to be able to enjoy their freedom again. That he couldn’t help.

“Look. . . I know I’m not supposed to know what’s going on here, what you guys are investigating. But there’s only so many fangmarks I can look at before I draw a whole hell of a lot of conclusions.” He huffed, re-crossing his arms, and glared at the chart in front of him. “None of the others brought in had this many, and—” he grimaced out the next words, “—you only work in this field for so long before you hear some rumors about ‘vamps and witches.’

“I can feel it, there’s something—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—supernatural going on, and I don’t know how to treat it. I’m fumbling around in the dark here trying to treat symptoms without the knowledge base to help, without even the knowledge base to know how what he went through affected him, and he is too sick for this.” He pressed his lips together, flicking his eyes up to catch Ben’s.

“Can you help me?”

Clint sighed as the two detectives turned to him, the doctor’s gaze following with barely a blink of surprise.

Of course, just when I would call Markus.

“The witch that I would normally contact about this has. . . passed away,” he said, rubbing his hand through his hair, “but let me call someone who might be able to help. Do you mind talking to someone else?”

David shook his head after a confirmatory nod from the two detectives. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Clint thumbed it open and pulled up Evan’s contact.

Putting the call on speaker, he left it to ring on the table, hoping the vet wasn’t too busy to take his call. After a few interminable rings, he answered.

“Hello?” Loud rustling accompanied the greeting, and Clint could hear the yips and barks of the clinic.

“Evan, it’s me.”

“Clint? What’s up? You okay?” A door slammed in the background, and the animal noises cut off.

“Yeah, man, I’m fine. In New York working a vamp ring, I could use your know-how.”

“I mean, sure, but I’m not sure what I could tell you about vamps that you don’t already know...?” The beastmaster trailed off, confusion plain in his tone.

Clint grimaced, avoiding the other’s concerned gazes. Evan wasn’t going to like this next part.

“It’s not really the vamps I need your help with, man. There’s a witch here that got caught up in the ring, he’s not doing well, and I need—“

Evan cut him off before he could even finish, anger making his voice snap over the line.

“No, Clint, damnit, I’ve told you. I’m not trained for people, I’m a damn vet—“

“Evan, listen—” he tried to break in, but the other man wasn’t to be deterred.

“—I don’t need that responsibility, and I don’t want it. Did you even listen to what Deanna or Illyn had to say?”

Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t want to get into this in front of three practical strangers, but the beastmaster was adamant about not treating people unless absolutely necessary. “Deanna won’t take my calls anymore after Markus—none of his coven will—and Illyn isn’t educated enough or in a place to be of any use in this situation. If anyone else would get back to me right away, I would be calling them, not you.”

His friend was silent on the other end of the line, and Clint suppressed a strangled growl. “This guy is literally dying, Evan, please.”

A huff answered his plea, and Clint could practically see the other man’s face creasing into a pained frown. “Goddamnit,” he muttered, “fine, but you owe me.”

Something released in Clint’s chest, and he let out a shaky breath. “Thanks, man.”

He turned to the other men in the room, trying to give a hopeful smile that was probably more pained than anything. “You’re on speaker phone; I got two detectives here with me and the lead doctor on the case. Hopefully they can answer any questions you got.”

David introduced himself without any more preamble, repeating what he’d just told Clint but including more technical jargon than he had with him or the detectives as laymen. He listened with half an ear as Evan asked questions of the doctor, Ben and Kincaid filling in what they’d deduced about the witch’s captivity and treatment, the majority of the wolf’s attention set on what kind of hell the guy had gone through.

Evan’s voice pulled him back from imagining the guy’s broken body and the reactions of his family if they were ever found.

“So, let me set this out: this witch was fed on vociferously by a vamp; held above ground, away from the earth, in a concrete box with no sunlight for who knows how long; critically injured and ill; and, now, he’s not healing.”

“That about sums it up, yeah,” Kincaid deadpanned, a dark look on his face.

“Was there any evidence of iron use?”

Clint felt a cold hand grab hold of his sternum, and he dropped his head down, scratching his nails down the back of his neck. “Oh shit,” he hissed, a growing realization dawning, “I should’ve thought of that.”

Evan hummed in acknowledgement. “Probably, but there’s a reason you always called me or Markus after you’ve found someone. Treatment isn’t your area of expertise.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ben cut in, the three men leaning forward with identical looks of agitation.

“It sounds like, on top of everything else, he’s going through something commonly called magical exhaustion.” The vet had his educator’s hat on, his calm voice rumbling through the speaker in tinny waves. “It doesn’t always happen, but a part of a witch’s physical make up is magic. If they use too much without the opportunity to recharge then they can get really sick. Depending on the severity, it can be fatal.”

Clint continued for him when Evan hesitated over a sigh. “In a case like this one, where the witch is being given the opportunity to recover without interference, then you have to be on the lookout for something that’s blocked that ability to do so.

“Iron, cold wrought iron, is like poison to a large number of supernaturals. It’s in all of the fairy tales: for example, it can burn a Fae like a motherfucker and makes controlling a were’s shift or were-state...let’s just say, problematic.”

Clint suppressed a snarl at a decidedly unpleasant memory, his eyes flashing a very brief yellow. He felt a stab of contrition when David flinched backward in alarm, his eyes widening, and pulled himself back with some difficulty before continuing.

“For witches, it interferes with their ability to naturally produce or access their magic, and with such a critically injured witch, one who was trying to cope with long term trauma and magic drainage, shrugging that block off would’ve been an astronomical impossibility.”

If he’d even wanted to, Clint thought darkly.

“So it’s like he’s not producing the chemicals his body needs,” David interjected, still giving Clint a wide side-eye after seeing his eyes change, his fingers drumming on the table. “How do I fix it?”

And that was the real question, wasn’t it? God, what he wouldn’t do to have Markus or his coven’s help.

Evan’s sigh was like static over the line. “It would be too much to ask if you found his grahm anywhere, wouldn’t it?”

Catching the twin looks of dejection from the detectives, Clint shook his head as he answered. “You’d be right about that, Evan.”

“Damnit,” the vet cursed. “The only thing I can think of is something I would recommend for one of my patients—get him in nature, bury him in dirt and sunshine and hope that it would break the block down.”

Like he could sense David’s horrified expression, Evan cut off the doctor’s objections. “I know that’s not possible in this case, so I’m going to recommend the next best thing. Get a house plant, one of those that has a really strong root system, and bury his hand in it. I bet you his magic will latch onto it, maybe it’ll help. If his room has windows, give him as much natural light as possible.”

Clint heard Evan shifting in his seat, a small, sad laugh coloring the line. “I guess you guys don’t let animals into your ICU wards, right?”

“I’ll authorize whatever you think might help,” David corrected, “I already told these guys, but we’re out of our league here, and we all know it. These nurses are protective as hell, and this guy has no one but our boys in blue here and an overworked social worker. If I don’t do something to try and help cause I’m scared of administration then I’ll face a damn mutiny.”

“In that case, get a therapy animal in there. Familiars are a real thing and witches use them for a reason—it won’t be as effective as if it was this guy’s actual familiar, but it won’t hurt.”

Ben and Kincaid shared a look before the latter opened his mouth. “I’ll give Justin a call, and have him bring in Delta. She’s well trained enough, and he seemed to positively respond to her when he was conscious.”

David nodded his assent. “Olivia’s a hard-ass about her being on the floor, but she’ll feel better about Delta than any other animal.”

“What about getting him a grahm?” Ben asked. “You mentioned finding his, surely we could get one for him.”

Clint and Kincaid were already shaking their heads.

“Too personal to each individual witch,” Clint answered, “A healthy witch can channel through someone else’s grahm, but I doubt it would do more than muddle the waters for someone in this guy’s position.”

Humming in affirmation, Evan explained. “I mentioned this guy’s grahm because it might have acted like a jump start, but anything this witch wasn’t involved in making or wasn’t made specifically for his magical pattern might hurt him, and you can’t get a read on his magical pattern if he’s not producing magic.”

Silence reigned at this information, the catch-22 of their situation not settling well with any of the people in the room.

“That’s all I can think to do right now,” Evan stated after a moment, frustration evident in his voice. “I’ll give Deanna a call, see if she’ll give me any more insight.” He didn’t pause before continuing, not giving Clint the opportunity to cut him off, even if the other men heard it. “She’s hurting, Clint, but she doesn’t actually blame you for Markus. She won’t refuse to help this guy just cause you’re working the case.”

Evan knew him too well, but even his words didn’t do anything to soothe the pang of hurt in his chest, his guilt resurfacing. “Thanks, Evan,” he said, voice rough, “let us know if you find anything out, okay?”

“Yeah, man, I’ll let you know.”

David didn’t stick around for much more discussion after the line went dead, walking out of the command station with a mission in his step.

Ben and Kincaid were silent for a few minutes though, leaning into each other’s spaces. A string of envy wrapped itself around Clint’s ribs, pulling tight. What wouldn’t I do to give Nico a hug right now?

Clint sighed, ruffing up the back of his hair as he pulled out his phone. “I’ll send Holland a text updating him on John Doe’s condition and what Evan recommended. Kincaid, you update Justin, I think the faster we get Delta in here the better.”

Nodding, the younger man pulled his phone out and started typing. “He and Delta should be on their way back in, I’ll let him know to hurry.” His face twisted on his next words. “Man, I can’t get the image out of my head-“ he looked at Ben, eyes sorrowful, “-when he was petting Delta. . . “

“Yeah. . .fuck, this case sucks.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Clint cocked his head. “You said that he was conscious at one point, you weren’t able to get a name out of him?“

They both shook their heads, starting to pull more files over to work on. “No, he was too sick,” Ben answered. “Tried to talk, started coughing, and his vitals just tanked. It couldn’t have been ten minutes later, when we were getting him in the ambulance, that he stopped breathing on his own and we had to intubate.”

All three of them sighed, shaking their heads as they tried to shake the depressed atmosphere. It would be a good time for a dark joke, the life blood of career law enforcement, but he couldn’t find the energy.

Turning back to the transcript he’d been reading when David came in, his phone buzzed as Holland texted him back. He cracked a grin as he read the message. Trust Holland to not disappoint.  “You old bastard,” he chuckled.

Ben made a quizzical noise, glancing up from a morbid photograph of blood streaked concrete.

Clint held out the phone, grinning wildly at the man’s snark. “Holland asks if he needs to pick up any essential oils on his way back. Apparently his wife really likes Blue Chamomile before bedtime.”

Ben grinned as he took the proffered phone, reading the text from Holland before shaking his head and dismissing the notification. “He just likes to be contrary, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Clint leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching. Closing his eyes blissfully as the tension released in his shoulders. “Stubborn old bastard will be doing this from the grave.”

“This looks like a fun crowd, these your friends?”

Releasing the stretch, Clint blinked his eyes open in confusion, and saw Ben examining his home screen. An uncomfortable curl of sadness turned over in his stomach, but he smiled and nodded. “That’s the group back in Louisiana. We got Markus’s coven and the rest of the pack together for a going away party. It was a good time.”

Ben paused as he examined the photo closer, turning the screen away from Kincaid’s curious gaze and shaking his head. The edges of his perpetual smile formed into a frown on his next question.

“. . . Clint, didn’t you say your witch friend, Markus, was . . . gone?”

“Yeah, uh. . . yeah he is.” Heart sinking in his chest at the unexpected question, Clint swallowed past a sudden lump, words coming carefully. “He. . .uh, he went missing several months ago in Massachusetts.”

Hands shaking, he took the phone back from Ben and doused the screen, placing it face down on the table.  He felt his shoulders try to hitch up around his ears, but he forced them to relax as he curled his hands around themselves. “We knew, uh. . . fuck,” he muttered, already feeling some tears forming on his eyelashes, “we knew that he was taken—violently taken. He called Illyn, said that he’d been shot. That he was scared.”

Kincaid frowned with him, a sympathetic hand tapping the table between them. It made the wolf smile, sure as anything that he’d been welcomed into these men’s pack; that knowledge was a comforting weight fitting snugly around his heart.

Clint cleared his throat, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, and breathed out slowly. His talk with Holland was too fresh for this conversation, but it didn’t help anything to pretend it didn’t happen. Plus, he felt like these guys deserved to know after the discussion with Evan.  They’d pull him out of it if he got too low or distracted to help with the case.

So, he forced himself to continue.

“We could never pin down who took him. It’s an unusual M.O. for a supernatural to use a gun like that but. . . there just weren’t any other leads.“

Fuck. . . fuck, it’s such an unusual M.O., and I still can’t find a goddamn suspect. Still haven’t found him. What kind of fucking investigator am I?

What kinda friend?

I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Markus.

“Did it have to be a supernatural?”  Ben drew Clint back from his spiral with the question, putting a stilling hand on a confused Kincaid’s shoulder as he gave him a warning look.  

Clint huffed a strangled laugh, looking down at the table with a humorless smile. “Yeah, yeah, it woulda had to have been. One ‘a the few things Markus told Illyn was that he had to use a lot of magic to get some distance. Markus is. . .” he sucked in a pained breath through his teeth, “was, a very powerful witch. Even though he didn’t have his grahm on him, it woulda been hard, damn hard, for some supernatural to take him if he had the opportunity to use his magic. No way a human could have.”

Ben nodded in the corner of Clint’s vision. “That makes sense, no idea what kind of supernatural did it?”

Clenching his jaw around the residual anger at Illyn and himself, Clint shook his head. “By the time I was called in, the scene was 40 plus hours cold. I couldn’t even be there for the first week, I was in Montana wrapping up the investigation on a child-trafficking ring. Roxanne, the friend I called in to investigate, suspected a vamp, but she couldn’t get much of a read on the scene with that much decay and the foot traffic that came through it. All of her leads eventually ran cold.”

Both officers grimaced, knowing intimately how difficult it was to investigate a scene like that, putting together the pieces of his guilt. Clint shared a commiserating smile with both of them before studiously examining his thumb nail, continuing the story.

“Illyn,” he sighed, the gust of air shimmying the papers on the table, “Illyn was able to get a brief limited-telepathic link within the two days after he was taken. All she got was that he was in pain and that he was being kept in a concrete room with fluorescent lights. She stated that he couldn’t have been 50 miles from where he was taken at the time of contact, so that’s where we concentrated our search. There wasn’t any further contact.

“We never found a body, but with the violence of the attack, the amount of pain that he was in. . . “ He felt a shudder crawl down his back, his esophagus trying to curl up into a knot before he could clear his throat. He kept his gaze locked on his hands, not wanting to see the looks on their faces. “Statistically speaking, even in a normal case, it’s unlikely that he would have survived this long, but a witch of his caliber. . .”

“They don’t tend to last very long when they’ve been taken within the supernatural community,” Ben finished for him. Clint nodded, biting his lip, fighting the urge to rub at his face. “Clint. . . Do you mind if I have a second look at that picture?”

“Nah, ‘course not.” He slid his phone back over, not quite feeling the bewilderment growing in his stomach at the request.

He watched Ben pick the phone back up like it was a bomb, taking a deep breath before tapping the screen. He nodded to himself, biting at his cheek before turning the screen toward Kincaid. “Tell me what you see, Kin’,” he all but whispered.

Clint froze as he watched all of the blood drain from Kincaid’s face.

“Oh, fuck. . .”

[seriouslyhooked]

Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 24)

25 part AU written for @cssns​. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy​!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone. So as you can probably imagine, this chapter is going to be A LOT It’s double the length of a normal chapter because the midpoint was too high stress for me to leave you all on. It’s going to be high emotions and very unstable. That being said, I totally understand if some of you just want to skip it all together. Keep in mind if you do, you will be missing the final show down with George and a lot of final puzzle pieces many of you have been trying to piece together. I promise you I will leave the chapter in a stable place AND I have an extremely fluffy chapter planned for the final installment of this fic. That being said, I hope you’ll all forgive me for the angst, and happy reading!

“So what exactly do you think George has in store for us?”

After a few hours of being holed up in the car together, headed north to face her father’s Uncle, the question from Killian was direct and precise. But there was a reason it had taken hours for anyone to ask. The truth was something strange and unnerving. Without having every detail, they all knew that this was a dangerous man with an unstable mind. George Nolan’s reputation preceded him and his craven desire to do harm was undeniable. Still there was so much they didn’t understand. The only one with first-hand knowledge was her Dad, and every time she looked to him for answers, he appeared grim and stony. To see her father’s light dim, to see his kindness cool, was completely foreign to Emma, and it made her hands tremble slightly with anxious anticipation.

“It’s not going to be easy to get to him when we arrive at this ranch,” Emma’s father said, continuing to discuss the task before them just as he had for the last four plus hours. “My Uncle has never fought in any human war, but his life has been one long series of battles. The stuff he’ll have lined up will be straight from the textbooks.”

“They’ve got textbooks on shifter hunting then?” Liam asked with a tone of feigned amusement that was largely laced in sarcasm. “Well look at that. Learn something new every day.”

“Kidding aside, surely George is more sophisticated than that. He must have some sorts of surprises in store,” Killian offered.

“Oh plenty,” David agreed. “I know many of his habits, his tendencies and quirks, but it’s been thirty years since I left home, and there’s no doubt he’ll have more up his sleeve by now.”

Emma continued to listen to the others discuss, but eventually their voices started to fade. The words became less recognizable, and more a continued thrum of energy in the back of her mind. This mental distance was a defense mechanism, a means of shielding herself until the last possible moment. If she allowed her mind to linger in the what-ifs she’d go crazy. Instead, she leaned her head against the window, her temple feeling the coolness of the glass as her eyes stayed trained out, taking in their surroundings.

As the others shifted their conversation from trap types and weaponry to debate about what the best routes in and out of this park reserve might be, Emma thought back to a time before all of this chaotic uncertainty. Her eyes cast out towards the northern woods, with mammoth pine trees filling in the forests all around them. The world was green and bright. The feel of summer was thick still, and the world, though sluggish from the heat, was very much alive. The further from home they drove, the more altered the land looked. Flat coastal spaces ranged from rolling hills to jagged cliffs. Terrain was denser with brush and canopies. Heck, they’d literally left the country and were now in a totally new place, but Emma didn’t think of that, or even really see the sights before her. Instead she recalled what things used to be like, before she met her soulmate, and before everything went completely off the rails.

Emma’s life in Storybrooke was quiet and subdued for so many years. She had her work, and her friends, and her family. Every day was different, but it was also just the same. The spice of her life came from being a vet, where she might encounter varying pets and animals with a whole host of ailments and injuries, but the ebb and flow of life was rather monotonous. Nothing really strayed from ordinary, and after everything that they’d gone through when Neal was sick, Emma was grateful for that. She lived in a little pond with the fish she’d always known, happy that the big and scary waves of their past seemed to be behind them. Things were small and seemingly unimportant in their little corner of the world, but as safe as she’d felt, and as untouchable as being in Storybrooke once used to seem, it wasn’t all that she truly wanted. Where she had consistency and companionship, Emma was missing passion. She was missing that all-consuming love that comes when meeting one’s perfect match, and in more ways than one, she was missing key insights into who she really was. Pieces of her had been, for lack of a better word, hibernating, and now they were awakened, never to be suppressed or forgotten again.

But so far, these beautiful pieces had come with a tainted set of conditions. She met Killian, igniting a spark that had fanned into unquenchable flames. She fell in love with him, opened her heart to him, and started to believe that a life with real love was something she was meant to be a part of, but then she realized he had secrets and a past still left to face. She learned the truth about shifters, and her family’s place in that world. It was confusing but amazing all at once, yet with that incredible truth came a good amount of fear. There was so much left unknown, and things that could hurt them down the line. Bonding together had made Emma and Killian so much more secure in themselves and in each other. She was meant to be Killian’s fated mate, and he was meant to be hers, and Emma would never ever regret that. But saying yes to each other and taking that step brought the threat of Liam and whatever darkness may consume him. Of course, Killian’s brother was no longer a danger to them, but only a few weeks ago they’d felt differently. Before they saw Liam and understood his intentions and his destined ties to Elsa, he was looming menace that Killian had run from for years. His sickness had eroded critical human parts of Liam Jones, and though Elsa had cured him, nothing could take back the panic, the angst, and the worry they’d all expended in the days and weeks leading up to his return.

When they realized Liam wasn’t truly the enemy, there was celebration and reason for joy. Killian had his brother back, and Elsa too was blessed enough to have a mate. But in a matter of days Emma was forced to face down the risks of fully embracing who she was. The tying together of Elsa and Liam was a gift, but it also thrust Emma into more action than she knew what to do with. In a move that completely defied her past human understanding, Elsa used magic to help Emma merge her souls on some kind of spiritual, other-worldly journey. She’d met Killian’s dead mother in another unknown plane of existence, embraced her inner wolf, all while dying for just a few moments. That was crazy, and obviously something Emma should have had more time to prepare for and come to terms with, but she survived, and after the dust settled from such a stressful moment, she thought things were truly okay. They’d made it through, they’d braved their trials. This was surely enough to merit a good old fashioned happily ever after, but no. Things were nowhere near through. Her long-lost, time-ignored grandmother returned, freed from a magical coma that had robbed her of an entire lifetime with her children and grandchildren. Her brother was approached by a mad man and his safety was thrown into jeopardy. Her town was attacked by a genetically modified monster shifter. And if all that weren’t bad enough, they had not one, but two genuinely evil men hell bent on destroying them. Bad intentions surrounded Emma and the people that she loved, aimed at snuffing out her happiness and their lives, and for all of this she was yet again knocking on the door of danger and bracing for another spat with life and death.

I just want this all to be over. I’ll do whatever it takes, as long as we can go back to something even remotely like normal.

The thought whispered in her mind, but it spoke her deepest truth. All she wanted was for this to be finished. Emma wanted to rid them all of any monsters that were lurking in one final stand, and then she wanted to get to living. She wanted to get married, even though she and Killian were forever bonded already. She wanted a special day just about them and their love and their future. She might not have the determination and unyielding vision of her mother when it came to planning this wedding, but Emma craved a feeling, the sheer happiness that must come when she and Killian would say ‘I do’ for real this time. At the same time, Emma wanted to make her and Killian’s new house a home, and to prepare for the baby who she would hold close very soon. She wanted lazy mornings and sunset walks. She wanted beach days and trail hikes and running in the woods. She wanted days where she and Killian did absolutely nothing except spend time together, and she wanted to know peace again in a way she hadn’t had in what felt like far too long.

“I love you, Emma.”

The whispered words that came from beside her made Emma turn to her mate, and the look of calm and fidelity in his gaze helped Emma breathe easier. She hadn’t realized her agitation was carrying over from her mind, but as Killian pressed a soft kiss to her lips, she felt warmed through. The shadows she was grappling with and the what-ifs that would ultimately do nothing but cause more stress retreated again. For a moment it was just the two of them, and she smiled at him, raising her hand to cup his cheek as she looked into his eyes. God did she love this man. He was so right for her, so good to her. She couldn’t imagine anyone else she’d ever want by her side for a moment like this, and though she hated that they had to be here, she was grateful for their bond now more than ever. In all honesty she was thankful for everything they’d been through, huge and daunting and exhausting as it was. For ultimately they were stronger for their trials, and they had used each obstacle and hardship as a chance to grow together instead of fall apart.

“You let the light in,” she said, her words still soft and spoken only for them. She watched as his eyes lit up with both enjoyment and surprise, and it made her heart clutch in her chest that even after everything he might not know how much he meant to her. “You make me feel like this will be okay, even when hope is scarce. I don’t know how I’d handle any of this without you.”

“You’d find a way,” Killian answered immediately, pulling her closer into his embrace. “But there’s no need. I’m not going anywhere, love. Not now, not ever.”

Emma promised the same back to him, and she allowed that promise to fill her with faith as the final stretch of the drive came and went. Soon enough they were passing into the territory of the mountain lions that had contacted her Uncle, and only a slight ways on they came to the sprawling lands of the long abandoned ranch where George and the shifters were expected to be.

“Taking the car any further will alert nearby shifters or your Uncle of our presence,” Killian said to her father. “We might already have been noticed, but reports from the other clans said this area had largely been avoided by the sick shifters.”

“How far out are we from the cabin still?” Anna asked.

“A little more than a mile. There’s a road that would take us all the way there…”

“But the chances George has lined that with explosives or traps is almost guaranteed,” Emma finished. Killian nodded and her father did the same.

“As it is, we need to all be on high alert. This area might be largely vacant because traps have already been laid here and the shifters can sense it.”

“I don’t think that’s why actually,” Anna said, looking to the tree line. Emma mirrored her movement, but there was nothing there, at least nothing she could see.

“Do you feel something?” Liam asked.

“I’m not sure, but you see that path? The grass is browning there, but everything else is perfectly green.”

“What would do that?” Emma asked, but Anna was already moving. Gently she reached her hand out, a swirl of her magic touching the dying blades and when it did a tint of red blipped into existence before puttering out.

“Gold.”

“He’s here too?” Liam questioned but Anna shook her head.

“Doubtful. This magic is fading, and see the way the blades are bent, they’re heading out not in.”

“But he was here,” David concluded. Anna nodded.

“Definitely. So it would make sense that no one has sensed any shifters. Gold has likely infused his magic in their sickness. Realistically he included a fail-safe to keep any of them from attacking him. They’re probably compelled to avoid him unless he summons them.”

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Killian asked and Anna shrugged.

“Only one way to find out I guess.”

With that they all moved through the forest, careful to stay near Gold’s chosen route without actually setting foot on it. They monitored the area around them for pitfalls and unforeseen complications, but aside from some old and rusted out traps of times gone by, the area was clean. They moved closer and closer to where the cabin was said to be located, but ultimately decided it would be better to take down as many shifters as they could before going directly to George.

“The nearest clan said there were fresh kills from yesterday seen here, here and here.” Emma watched as her father circled three places on the map. They were congregated in clusters around the property, all of them by the nearby river’s edge. “Nearly an entire herd of deer slaughtered up by this bend.”

“A whole herd?”

“These shifters killed mostly for sport, not food.”

Emma’s stomach curdled at the thought. She still felt adamantly that killing as her wolf and claiming an animal to eat was a bit beyond her. Sure, she could technically do it, but it was extremely uncommon. Liam and Killian felt the same way, citing that the only shifters they’d ever known to take advantage of that particular power were their father and some of his closest supporters. As such, the two of them never partook, and only ever killed a wild animal while in their wolf form if the animal was a threat to others.

“That’s where we need to start,” Liam said and they all agreed, leaving the relative safety of Gold’s carved out trail and heading for the nearby waterway.

In another situation, these woods would be beautiful, a place of reprieve perhaps, and an area filled with plentiful wildlife and natural bounty. But now an eerie quiet settled on this land. There were no bird songs through the trees, no rustling of squirrels or smaller wildlife to be heard. In a matter of days, the presence of these shifters had eroded any sense of peace or serenity that may once have existed here, and that unnatural decay left Emma’s nerves even more on edge. Only a subtle wind through the trees and the distant gurgle of running water filled the space around them, and even their footsteps were nearly undetectable, as all of them were taking great pains to stay quiet and unheard.

After a few minutes of steady movement, Killian raised his hand, motioning for all of them to stop as he took in their surroundings. “There’s a hostile shifter, fifty paces out,” Killian said, his head nodding through a canopy of trees. Emma was astonished. She hadn’t heard or sensed anything at all, but then she shifted slightly closer to Killian and she smelled it.

“Mountain lion?” Emma asked, as the ungodly scent filled her nose and left her with a need to gag. It was hard to place the exact shifter when the sickness loomed so large, but from her basic knowledge of shifter scents, she thought it was some kind of big cat.

“No. Jaguar maybe.”

“It could be a panther,” David said as he readied his dart gun, loading it with the intended tranquilizer. “George’s idea of vacation involves hunting in other parts of the world. He had a particular fascination with the amazon. Always said panthers were wily and the hardest to kill. He might have trapped one for his army.”

There was no time to really soak that in, as the element of surprise would soon be lost to them. Instead they fanned out, moving to better circle the beast without alarming it to their presence. Only when everyone was in place having created a semi-circle around the river did it occur to Emma that they had one real potential obstacle – panthers could climb a hell of a lot better than any of them, and if this big cat got in a tree with enough coverage to escape her father’s scope, they’d be in big trouble.

At that exact moment, luck went against them and the wind suddenly shifted, brushing against her skin and headed straight for the clearing at the water’s edge where the shifter lurked. Knowing time was up, she moved quickly, making enough noise that the others would know to move too and coming face to face with a giant black beast a few seconds later.

The growl of the animal was feral and loud, a snarl scratched out in a blatant attempt to intimidate. Emma’s instinct was to shift to her wolf form, but that wasn’t the plan. Liam and Killian were the ones who would be shifting, and Emma, Anna, and her father would try their best to hit the jaguar with enough sedative to put him under. Emma attempted to do just that, aiming her dart gun at the jaguar’s neck, but the animal was too fast, lunging away and charging at Emma.

With lightening speed, a fully black wolf leapt at the jaguar, taking it off guard and grounding it with excessive force. Emma knew this was Killian, and watched as he and Liam both took on the panther. But they didn’t try to kill their foe. Instead, as was the plan, they attempted to corale the big cat to a more open space, in an easy line of sight for her father to hit. They were nearly there when the jaguar changed direction, ambling for a giant tree trunk in an attempt to get away.

“Oh no you don’t!” Anna said, her hands flying outwards as she dropped her dart gun and used her magic, managing to make the tree actually shake, tossing branches down below to swat the big cat away. The animal roared again, hurt to some degree from its fall, but mostly agitated. It now saw Anna and hissed at her, ignoring Liam and Killian and moving straight for her. Emma’s heart caught in her throat and protectiveness flooded her system. She was a split second from shifting and sprinting in her friend’s direction to save her, but then the jaguar let out a pained cry and she saw that he’d been hit. Her Dad had landed the blow, and now the drug was overwhelming the shifter’s system.

“Perfect shot,” Anna said, sounding almost excited at what had just happened, as if her life was in no real danger. Emma just gawked at her friend until her Dad explained.

“Anna knew what the plan was. She was never in any real danger. I’d never let that happen.”

Emma knew her father was sincere, since Anna and Elsa were essentially honorary Nolans. Still, she wished they’d conveyed that to her somehow instead of nearly giving her a heart attack.

“Well that was easy enough. One down, three more to go.”

Tracking the other shifters ended up being a much easier proposition since the noise from this skirmish had sounded through the woods. One by one they came out of hiding, two wolves were first, big, but they lacked cohesiveness in their attack, and after a bit of wrangling Emma managed to hit one while her father got the other. Soon after that the bears came, first a giant black bear and just when he was put down another that was brown, but not as massive as Anna’s grizzly from Storybrooke. These two were a bit more capable than the wolves, but they didn’t manage any lasting damage on Liam or Killian. But just when they were trying to catch their breath back in their human form, a cackling shriek of a final frenzied foe sounded through the forest.

“What the hell was that?” Anna asked, looking towards the tree line for whatever had made that awful sound.

“Wolverine,” Emma’s father and Killian said at the same time.

“Like the weasel things?” Anna asked, thinking as Emma did that this must surely be easy.

“Yeah, but wolverine shifters are five times the normal size,” Liam said bulking up his stance before turning to them. “Be on your guard, this one’s gonna be nasty.”

They watched Liam and Killian shift back again as a giant brown burst of energy scrambled through the brush. With gnashing teeth and a rabid expression, the wolverine was terrifying, and also enormous. Emma lost herself for a second, stunned at the sight of it, but when the beast moved to swipe at Killian she gathered herself back.

“Get him to the river,” David instructed, yelling out the command so all of them could hear it. Emma realized right away that this was going to be a very different fight. Their foe was too fast and it had no instinct for self-preservation. All it did was lash out, aggressively trying to maim Killian and Liam to get what it wanted. With movements like that, she had no chance of hitting her target, so she shifted to wolf form to try and help that way. It was touch and go in a few spots, and more than once the beast almost managed to get a nip at her golden coat, but in a moment where she was one on one with the animal her father yelled for her to duck. She did so without question, and as the best lunged for her, she watched the dart hit him square in the chest, knocking him back and pulling another hellish scream from the animal.

“Nasty buggers, wolverines,” Killian said when they’d all determined the beast was subdued. “Even the healthy ones are horrors.”

“Could hardly tell that he was sick,” Liam joked and Emma let out a barked laugh, shaking her head.

“No way. They can’t be that bad,” she said looking to her father who only shrugged.

“They’re packless for a reason. Put too many together, and well, you just saw what can happen.”

Emma was amazed at that, and thankful that they’d managed to put him down for the time being. All of these shifters would be down for the count for at least a day. If Anna’s bear was knocked out for that long in the test, they’d surely be down longer, what with the difference in size and metabolic rate. As such they’d have time to gather them all together or have the nearby packs lock them down to a secured space. But in the meantime they’re greatest enemy was still before them.

“Did you notice the blood on him?” Liam said, drawing their attention back to the wolverine. “Right paw, encased on the claws.”

“Well someone had to have killed all those deer, right?” Anna asked but Liam shook his head.

“It’s human blood. I caught a whiff of it when he tried to strike me.”

“Human?” Emma asked, worried that these shifters had managed to harm an innocent hiker or something of the like.

“It’s got to be George. The packs were adamant that there are no humans in these parts and they checked with local rangers. There’s a warning out for hikers and campers for a twenty-mile radius and the packs have been circling from a distance for days. No one’s out here.”

“If that beast got a piece of him, then your Uncle’s in bad shape,” Killian said and Emma watched her father’s expression, wondering if anything like remorse would appear. It never did.

“Good. I’m not too proud to admit that we need the advantage. If George is at full health, he’ll be that much harder to stop.”

Heading towards the cabin once more, Emma considered what it would take to stop such a man. No one had said the words aloud, but they all must know that George couldn’t be allowed to leave this cabin. There would be no imprisoning him. He had to die and that was a dark cloud looming over them all. None of them would want to take a life, for Emma it was something she didn’t even think she could do, but in this moment she had to be ready to compromise herself. If it meant protecting the people she loved, she might have to take a life, and though that life would be an evil one, it would still hurt her. But despite that, she would still make that choice. Whatever the fall out, she would see her loved ones protected, no matter what.

“It won’t come to that, Emma,” Killian said, taking her hand as they moved through the woods. “I won’t let your hands be bloodied like that.”

“No we won’t. The person to handle this will be me,” her father said, and Emma looked to him, knowing that burden was something he would struggle with but that he was ready to take on. “I always knew this day might come. He’s my responsibility.”

No one argued with her father, instead allowing the last bit of quiet to consume their journey. They remained alert, moving towards the cabin, finally approaching it from the side. Emma was struck by how the quiet continued, but the air smelled now of smoke and burning wood, and when the dilapidated ranch came into view, there was a hazy gray smog coming from the chimney.  

“Someone’s in there,” Anna said with conviction, her hand moving across the air in a wave, her magic feeling out for signs of life. “And they’re in there alone.”

Quietly they circled around the property, until they reached the front door. From the outside it was clearly barricaded closed, but traces of blood adorned the faded wood going up the steps. Fingerprints in scarlet red clung to the doorway, another sign that George was injured.

“We can’t take his weakness for granted. Even hurt, he could have traps in place.”

“So what do we do?”

“Leave it to me,” Anna said, bringing both hands before her and tilting her head in concentration. She held herself tight for a moment and then pushed her arms out with a violent force. As she did a strong gust moved in, visible in its intensity, shattering the windows and pushing in the door. A split-second later arrows shot from each direction, and Emma felt herself pushed behind a wall of muscle. Killian was huddled in front of her, and Liam had gone for Anna, but Anna pushed him away.

“Wait!” she said her hands still suspended. Emma waited for the sound of impact, but nothing came, and when she peaked around Killian she saw at least a dozen arrows suspended in the air, all of them stopped by magic.

“Anna,” Emma whispered, her feeling of awe over whelming her and Anna let loose a smile.

“You can say it, Emma, I’m a bad ass.”

“We can all say it the moment this is over,” Liam agreed, similarly impressed by Elsa’s sister’s show of magical control. But he was right. This wasn’t over.

“Do you think there’s more?” Killian asked, knocking down one of the arrows as he headed towards the door.

“It’s possible,” her Dad admitted.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Anna said taking the lead before whipping back to head off Liam’s impending rebuttal. “And before you say anything, we both know I can handle this. Plus Elsa will kill me if anything happens to you.”

They moved up the stairs, through the doorway of the house, all of them on alert, but no more surprises came. The place was bare, but clearly lived in. Dust remained, but there were well worn paths where people had been coming in and out. The kitchen had been used, and so had a bedroom, but they didn’t actually find George until they reached the back of the house. Only when they’d entered the great room, done in the style of a long-forgotten hunters lodge, did her Great Uncle appear.

His back was turned to all of them, though he must have heard the shattering of windows and them moving through the house. He stood facing the fire, unmoving for a while. His left arm hung down, but his right clutched at his side, pressing over a makeshift bandage. Emma could smell the wound from here and see the red beneath the white cloth. His wound was deep, and he had lost a lot of blood, but still he remained stoic and unflinching and uninterested in them all together. Only when he was ready did he pivot, looking back to them all and offering no emotion as he did.

“It’s been a long time, David,” he said, his voice more even and regular than a man with a wound like that should be.

Seeing his face now, Emma noticed that there were some similarities between her father and this man. Their size was similar, and Emma wondered if George had started shrinking in his older age or if he’d willed that nuisance away from sheer grit. Their faces held a similar shape, though there were marked differences, but their eyes were arguably the closest trait they shared. Blue and intense, Emma recognized the color, but all comparison stopped there. For her father was a person filled with life and kindness. It radiated from him, the friendliness, the want to do good. He was a good man, but George… his eyes were hollow and dulled. If eyes were a window to the soul, this man’s was lacking, hardened, and in some ways unknowable.

“I must admit I always saw this reunion very differently when I pictured it,” George continued. His free hand moving to a glass upon the mantel filled with what Emma believed was whiskey. He took a sip, seemed to revel in it and then put the glass aside again, looking back at her father once more and treating the rest of them like they were totally invisible.

“Why you wanted one at all, I’ll never know.”

“Oh but you do, David. The day you ran you ensured that this moment would come. When you betrayed your family legacy for the sake of that fool lion, you wrote this into fate’s design.”

Emma found it difficult to look away from George, knowing better than to take her eyes off a man this malicious, but she needed a better understanding of their surroundings. The room was unlike the rest of the house which was sparse for the most part. This room had clutter, knickknacks hanging everywhere, and though nothing looked overtly threatening, she knew more traps could be anywhere. As if she’d summoned one, a steal trap descended from a rafter above and only Anna’s speedy reflexes and magical ability kept it from getting a part of Liam’s head. The sound of snapping metal against shattering wood filled the space, but when it faded out there was only the sound of the crackles in the fire and Anna’s sharpened breathing.

“Oh joy, another witch,” George said, again looking cold and nonplussed though one of his attack mechanisms had just failed. He didn’t even blink at the wasted piece of equipment, instead reaching for a bottle on the table a few feet away. He poured himself another drink, and they all just watched, transfixed in a way by this clearly dying man. It dawned on Emma that this was their chance to take him out, but then she remembered that they needed answers first. If they were going to crack the code of this serum and cure this artificial alpha sickness, they needed to know more about it.

“Why this way? These sick shifters seem like an unnecessary burden. If you knew where I was you could have just come for me. It would have been a hell of a lot easier.”

“Perhaps,” George acquiesced. “But the trouble with training you in my image as I did, was you learned how to cover your tracks. I had no idea where you’d gone, and by the time I discovered your whereabouts it occurred to me – I could do more than just take you out and destroy your family. I could destroy all of them with one perfected remedy.”

When he said ‘them’ he looked to Liam and then Killian, having figured out their shifter status from the start. It made Emma’s skin crawl to think that this man had wanted to destroy so many people. Because ultimately that’s what shifters were. They were people too. But George clearly didn’t believe that.

“I thought many times over the years that your aid would be most helpful in this venture. You always took to the science so quickly, perhaps you could have been of some use,” George said thoughtfully, looking at her father in a way that told Emma that in some sick twisted way he had some kind of regard for him. George was filled with vitriol, but underneath it there was something else. Respect maybe?  “Alas, the Nolan line is old and distinguished, and the stain of your choices could not stand. I could never allow it.”

“It must eat you alive to see what I’ve become,” her father said, standing strong in the face of his Uncle’s condemnation. “To know how many shifters I’ve healed, how many I’ve saved from men just like you. I spent each day doing anything I could to unmake your mess. For every life you ended I would prolong five, ten, or more. I figured I might not be able to stop you, I’d never risk my family to do so, but I could try to make some amends for the shame of what you’ve done.”

“The only shame belongs to your traitor mother,” George snapped out, his words sharp as the lashings of a whip. “You live because of her wicked sins.  She bastardized the very fabric of our history. The lineage of our people was destroyed for her disgusting infatuation with filth.”

No one dared speak in the face of those hateful words. Emma merely looked to her father, who stood there unmoving. He didn’t tense, didn’t react. He waited there, almost mirroring his Uncle, unwilling to give anything up by revealing his anger and emotion. Emma heard something, like a wire being pulled and then watched as her father took out his gun and shot two portions of the wall on opposite sides of the room. When he did a bevy of arrows snapped, but were shot to the floor instead of out into the room at chest level as they would have without interference.  Emma looked around the room to see if anything else gave away surprise attack, but she saw nothing. Killian however did, and he grabbed a stone paper weight from the pile of mismatched and chucked it at the back wall. Only when the stone thudded to the ground did Emma see the small fuse that had been lit and was now extinguished thanks to the hit of the rock.

“You killed my father,” David said, ignoring the added excitement of the would be surprise attacks, and when she could finally turn her attention from the unrest around them, Emma watched her father and felt how much grief that fact brought him. “You killed your sister’s true love, forced her to run, and to leave her two sons behind. Wasn’t that revenge enough?””

“Maybe it would have been, if his death meant anything to me, but truth be told he was just so… forgettable,” George said, his malice lacing every syllable even as they rang out with control and practiced authority. “I couldn’t even tell you what he looked like. He was nothing. Obsolete. Just another in a long line of shifter trash that needed disposing of.”

“When did you know?”

“That you were of mixed blood? I only discovered that recently. You see I too believed your brother’s illness was just that, and I didn’t think to question Ruth’s death when you were born. I saw it as a gift – two new warriors for the cause that I would raise for greatness. The magic that shielded your true nature was well woven, and it had to be, for if I’d known what you two were there would have been no need for sickness, I’d have finished you myself. But no. It took years to discover the truth. Only when Gold showed me Ruth’s sleeping body in his treasure trove did I discover just how deep her treachery ran.”

“You knew she was alive,” Emma’s father said, anger now beginning to rise as his fist tightened on the weapon in his hand.

“Oh yes. Long before she woke, I knew exactly where she was. Gold offered her to me if we made a little deal. I refused. She had no worth to me. I consider her lucky I didn’t kill her then and there.”

“You are a monster, you know that?” Emma asked, not willing to listen to this anymore.

“Ah, and there she is, the final downfall of the Nolan line. Our dearest Emma,” he said, spitting out the words and glaring at her, as if she was nothing but inconvenience to him. “You had a chance to be worth saving. Half breed as you are, you had Nolan blood and you were still human, unlike your cursed brother. But you couldn’t resist the filth either, could you? No, you had to go and choose to mate with one of those mongrels just like my wretched sister.”

Killian growled low in his throat as George looked his way and let out a choked laugh. It was sinister, and directed, but he quickly dismissed Killian again, looking back to Emma. “And then you let that witch remove your block. You tainted yourself. Your brother was already marked for death, I couldn’t let the Nolan line live on as shifter scum.  But you – you I would have spared. You’d have been the legacy. The last hope of the Nolan line.”

“Never,” Emma swore, meaning it with all her might. “I would never have turned my back on my family, and I would never believe all this nonsense you hold dear.”

“Oh, it’s not nonsense, Emma. Shifters are despicable, a plague upon this earth, and there is no remedy for them except removal. You need only look to your mongrel’s father for proof of what I speak.”

“You knew Brennan?” Killian asked, the shock palpable in his and Emma’s mental bond, but his poker face holding firm, giving very little away.

“Did I know Brennan Jones? The single most conceited alpha on the continent? The one who devoured other packs for power and for sport? Yes, I knew the monster. Hell, I owed the beast a debt. Without him none of this would have been possible. In the end, he was the key to everything.”

“You’re lying,” Liam said, disgusted and disturbed. “Our father hated hunters and he’d never help one.”

“The bite hardly makes for a stable mind, but you know that don’t you?” George said with a sick and twisted attempt at a smile. He clearly knew of Liam’s prior ailment, and he was more than willing to use that against him. “Deep down you realize that if I told your father he could have power he’d have given me anything I dared to ask for. All it took was the promise that I would replicate the serum for his pack while making them still submissive to him. He wanted an army, the strongest pack the world had ever known. As if I ever would have let it get that far. Fucking dog. No, I take it back. A dog would be smarter.”

“And so Gold, he was just unimportant?” Anna asked, carefully dragging the conversation away from Killian and Liam’s father for the time being, and to another glaring gap in the fabric of this story. “You want us to believe you did this all on your own?”

“No, I will admit I needed his magic,” George said, as his face darkened for the first time since they arrived, giving away his extreme resentment. “The venom I extracted from actual alpha sickness wouldn’t spread without a curse to bind it all together. But Gold is not to be trusted. He made a mistake, and when the attack with the grizzly failed, he turned on me, leaving me here to die.”

“Why would he get involved? What did he have to gain?” Emma asked and George stared blankly at her.

“You know, I never bothered to ask what he wanted with you and the three witches. Truth be told, I never really cared. But I imagine it won’t be pleasant for any of you. And he assured me you’d never manage to reproduce with that animal, so I didn’t give a damn.”

“Did he promise you that?” Emma quipped, her fury rising in her chest. “Was that part of the deal?”

“Not explicitly, but if things had gone as they should, they would be dead,” he motioned to Liam, Killian and her father, “And you two would be Gold’s.”

“But it didn’t go to plan.”

“No. I could never have anticipated that of all the worthless grizzlies in the world this one would be tied to a witch.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” Anna demanded, her hands coming up, ready to attack.

“Oh is he yours? I’m sorry,” he said sneering. “Sorry you too are tainted. Such a shame. But perhaps Gold will manage in the end. He’s a patient man, and really, what’s a few years matter? I waited nearly thirty for my revenge. It’s too bad I’ll only have a sliver of it.”

With lightening quick precision, George drew a knife from his hip and threw it towards Liam who dodged it just barely. At the same time more traps came from the wall and the ceiling. It was chaos, with arrows and steel traps and more, and all of it consumed Anna and Killian and her father’s attention. Emma though stayed still, not knowing how to react. She felt herself needing to respond, but then she realized that everyone else was focused on the other things and were missing what was right in front of them. Indeed George was more skilled than they were anticipating. And, having forsaken his hold on his wounded body, he grabbed a pistol from his waist and aimed it at her father.

“No!”

Without hesitation Emma jumped to push her Dad out of the way, successfully managing to  force him from the trajectory of the bullet, but then she felt the blow of impact into her shoulder. There was no slowing down of time. This was immediate and instinctive, and the pain of the hot metal piercing through her skin set in just as swiftly. She flinched at the force of it, falling towards the ground as Liam lunged for the gun, disarming George, and Killian grabbed her, holding her close.

“Emma!” he cried, panic clear in his gaze as George’s laughter filled the room. Liam meanwhile, pinned the old man down and let out a ferocious growl. Through the pain of her injury Emma saw the fear in George’s eyes, but her body was chilled, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

“What did you lace it with?!” Her father screamed and Emma looked down to where she’d been hurt, seeing the black inky lines that used to be her veins. Oh God she was dying. She was going to die.

“Nothing you can save her from,” George said, his voice labored as he lay pinned beneath Liam. “Gold procured it for me. It’s potent and powerful, and cannot be survived.”

The realization that this could really be it settled on her, and Emma felt herself slipping away. This was really the end. She was too far gone. There was no stopping this poison, this toxin designed to extinguish her father once and for all. The pain that flooded her system began to subside and instead she felt cold and numb. This was shock – the last bit of adrenaline before she’d be gone and she looked at Killian, desperate to say goodbye and say she was sorry, but unable to speak.  

“Emma, no, you’ve got to hold on! We’ll fix this! We’ll save you!”

“Killian.”

“Don’t leave me,” he begged, his voice and face etched in the pain of what was coming.

Afraid to close her eyes, Emma looked upon the man she loved and she felt such unimaginable grief. She wanted to hold on for him, she wanted his pleas to be right. But she was falling under, the current of this poison too high. This was really it. She moved her hand, reaching for Killian and then she felt it, a flutter from her abdomen. Her hand changed course, and moved towards her unborn baby, tears streaming down her face. She’d failed her child. She’d failed Killian. She…

In an instant, warmth flooded from the space where her hand lay through the rest of her being. The feel of it forced Emma’s eyes to close, but when the warmth grew she opened them again, wanting to understand why she felt this way. Her eyes blinked open and the brightness in the room had totally changed. She was surrounded in a beautiful haze, and she wondered if the light she saw through her tears could be real. It had to be an illusion, right? One last crazy vision before death finally came, but Anna’s gasp filled her ears, and Killian’s whispered words, tortured and yet hopeful filled her ears.

“The baby.”

His hand came over hers, and the light grew stronger. Emma blinked away her tears and watched as an iridescent magic not so unlike Anna or Elsa’s moved over her skin. Swiftly it traced the tracks of the onyx-colored poison, soothing every line within her. Emma felt sensation again, as the magic traced over her, filling her with energy, and with hope she’d thoroughly lost. The cold she was feeling was eradicated, and when the magical light finally reached her initial wound the darkness that marred her once smooth skin ebbed away. The blackness was removed, and most of her pain went with it. The bullet hole was still there, and she was bleeding, but she was alive, and though she couldn’t truly, scientifically know for certain, she felt in her heart that she was going to be okay. She was going to live.

“That’s not possible. You should be dead! You should be… wait, did you say baby? You can’t be pregnant!” George screamed but Emma didn’t even bother to spare him a glance.

“She saved me,” Emma whispered, feeling the sensation that somehow her unborn child had stepped in. She had no rationale reason for it, especially given how early on it was in her pregnancy, but it was suddenly very clear. Their child would be more than a hybrid of a shifter and a human – she had magic in her, for whatever reason, and she had used it, even before her birth, to save Emma.

“You can’t be pregnant! Gold said -,”

“Gold is never going to beat us!” Anna yelled. “You’ve failed, and now you’ll die for nothing.”

“Oh not nothing. I still have my weapons. Mated or not, there is no cure for your wretched shifter, I’ve left no trace. It’s all gone and cannot be recreated. So you see, the secret dies with me.”

The pain on Anna’s face looked just as piercing as what Emma herself felt moments ago, but it culminated even more when Emma’s father stepped forward, raising his gun to deliver a final blow. She cried out for him to stop, but it was too late. The deed was done. Her Uncle was dead, and his secret died with him.

“Why would you do that?!” Anna screamed, and Emma looked to her father for answers. He had ruined her friend’s only chance, but he only nodded to the fire.

“I know George better than anyone, and I am willing to bet my life that he burned the secret away. It’s shifter custom..”

Killian sniffed the air and gave a slight nod. “There’s more than wood in that blaze. Paper – both old and new and a bit of leather.”

“I know that there are spells that can unburn what was destroyed,” Emma’s father explained, seeking to calm Anna and show her he was not forsaking her new mate for an easy kill. “I’ve heard about them while healing other packs. They’re not common, but possible. Call Ruby. She’ll know.”

They did just that, and through the grace of something larger than themselves, Ruby found a spell in great haste. With shaky hands and a wavering voice, Anna recited the incantation Ruby read to her, and low and behold the fire sputtered to a stop and from the flames scraps of paper formed, with scribblings of formulas and multiple solutions. A leather bound book also took shape, and there, within the pages were a scribbling of formulas and well-kept notes.

“This is it,” her father said, looking relieved that his hunch was proven right. “This is what Neal needs to find a remedy.”

“Oh thank God,” Anna said, nearly falling to her knees, but ultimately being caught by Liam. It was finally over, and in the end they had everything they’d set out for.

“We did it,” Emma said, looking up to Killian, taking in his expression of relief and some lingering pain. She could feel through their link that the trauma of thinking she would die yet again had rattled him. He was at wit’s end, and she clung to him, trying to prove to him that she was okay, and that they had both made it through.

“I’m telling you right now, Emma, there will be none of this, ever again.” His voice was stern and his eyes made a silent promise that if she ever even thought of fighting such a battle in the future he would chain her to his side and make it so she couldn’t leave. “We are going home. We are getting married. We are meeting our miracle child when the time finally comes, and we are living happily ever after. There will be no more fighting. There will be no more close calls. We’re done with this.”

“Okay, we’re done,” she promised, resting her forehead against his and soaking in the feeling of their mission being complete. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Emma. Far too much to ever walk this world without you.”

“Emma?”

The voice of her father pulled Emma from her and Killian’s embrace, and she could see in his eyes the pain of all of this. He’d almost lost her too, and he’d just taken a life. Her father, the man who was always a pillar of strength for her whenever he could be, was hurting and she moved towards him, hugging him close.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” her dad whispered, hugging her as tight as he could, with his hand cradling the back of her head like he always had, ever since she was a little girl.

“I’m glad I did. If he’d hit you, you’d be…” She trailed off as she pulled back to look at him, unable to face that he would have absolutely died.

“I know,” he agreed, leaving words that hurt to much to say unsaid. “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Before she could so much as step away from her father, she found herself jostled into Anna’s waiting arms and her friend gave her a vice grip of a hug. Emma squeaked a sound of surprise out, and Killian moved toward her protectively, but she shook her head, knowing Anna needed this. A second later Anna jumped, remembering Emma’s injury.

“Oh crap, I hurt you!” she exclaimed, but looking at Emma’s wound, they could both see it was already looking much better. “I can’t believe it. The baby healed you. She must be a witch, right? But it shouldn’t be possible.”

“Maybe not,” Emma said, her hand coming back to rest on her stomach. “But somehow it is.”

“And every one of us grateful for that.” Liam said, with a warmth in his eyes and a nod of his head that told Emma Killian’s brother was glad for her speedy recovery. “But might I suggest we wrap things up and get back home? We might have slain a few beasts today, but there’s much more that still needs to be done.”

“Aye, brother, you’re right,” Killian agreed, taking Emma’s hand in his and bringing her close as he looked deep in her eyes. “Let’s go home, love.”

Emma couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to go home and to be done with all of this, and with a swiftness she was grateful for, they managed to contain things as best they could. With the help of the nearby packs, each of the sedated shifters was returned to a cage here on the property. None of them took any pleasure in containing these animals, least of all Anna, who also needed a little magic to really keep things secure, but they knew it was for the best. Sick as they were, there was no telling what these shifters would do, and in the interest of protecting the nearby shifter clans, and any humans who may wander into this area in the future, they left these animals temporarily caged and under the watchful eye of the pack who originally called on Lance.

Driving home after that, Emma was surprised at how quickly the time went by, but that was largely thanks to the sleep she fell into once she was back in the safety of the car and nestled in Killian’s arms. Magical revival from her child or not, Emma was exhausted, and the wound she’d incurred did ache and aggrieve her. Knowing that this pain still lingered, Killian held her close, kissing her anywhere he could and whispering that it would all be all right. She trusted him in this, and slowly gave into the comfort of his presence, falling into a slumber filled with flashes of dreams. Some were blips of the fighting they’d just faced, but there were more that came later that were so much more beautiful and remarkable. Emma would never be able to explain them out loud, but these flashes were of her future, of that she was sure. She saw in them a life that was happy and bright. She saw Killian, her love, standing with her, never far from grasp. She saw her family and her friends also with her and not a one of them saddened or stressed out. And then she saw the children, glimpses of a beautiful baby girl with dark hair like her father and eyes that matched Emma’s to a tee. There were more behind her, but it all came so quickly. These flashes seemed to surround her while also staying just out of reach, but as Emma woke up, she couldn’t help smiling, and the first thought that came to mind was Hope.

“I think we’ve got a name all ready for this little girl,” Killian whispered to Emma as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. She smiled, snuggling into him further and knowing her mate had read her mind, quite literally.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Emma admitted, thinking back on her dreams and knowing in her heart that her child would be a blend of magic and love and endless possibility. “But at the same time, I can.”

“Is that so?” Killian asked, seemingly surprised by her latter admission.

“Yes. On the one hand I love her so much already. I always have, and I always will,” she said, and Killian hummed out a sound of agreement with that. “But on the other, we still have so much to do. We have to get ready.”

“In more ways than one.” Killian teased and Emma felt her cheeks grow warm as she smiled and nodded her understanding. He wasn’t just talking about furnishing their place or baby proofing their new home. Emma could see, hopefully, more than a few weeks spent relaxing, recuperating, and spending every waking moment that they could enjoying each other and strengthening the bond they’d found together.

“Speaking of getting ready, we’re nearly home, and we’re about to have a lot of explaining to do,” Anna said and Emma jumped, not realizing the whole car was listening in on their talking. “Oh sorry, were we supposed to pretend we couldn’t hear you?”

“Seems a bit late for that,” Liam replied, his voice gruff but his eyes sparkling with amusement at Emma and Killian.

“Anna’s right though. It’s best to get our stories straight now,” David said. “Better to frame some of this as, let’s say ‘kindly’ as we can.”

Emma knew her father was thinking of her mother and her reaction to everything. She appreciated that her Dad wanted to spare her Mom any more pain, but she also knew, even if he said this that it would never come to pass. Her parents never held secrets from each other, and this time would be no different.  

“No need to bother. Chances are Ruby’s seen most of it anyway. She’s probably told half the tale already.”

Killian’s guess was soon validated, and as soon as they arrived, they were greeted with huge hugs and a million more questions. They might know most of what had happened, but there was so much more they wanted verified and expanded. Ruby had her visions that were helpful, but there were blank spots and things that couldn’t be explained. People wanted details of the shifters, of the fighting, and of George. They wanted to know what they’d learned of Gold and this plan and the evil that was done to enact it. But more than anything they wanted to know how Emma had lived. Emma explained as best she could, and the others stood by her description. One moment she was dying and the next she was cured. There was only one answer to the question, but no real explanation. No one understood how or why, but still it was true. Emma was saved and that was a miracle. Maybe someday they’d understand it, but for now they were just as grateful as could be.

Every query was ultimately answered, despite the exhaustion they were all feeling, and Emma felt it was better to get this done now rather than later. If they put it all out there, then maybe they could put it all behind them. Eventually they broke apart for the night, and by that time it was nearly sunrise of the next day. Just as Liam had said there was still a lot of work to be done and over the next few days they hit the ground running. Her father and Neal made a possible cure in a matter of days, and Emma did all that she could to help them. It was a long, laborious process, but it was made totally and completely worth it when she watched the moment that her best friend truly met her one true soulmate. Seeing that it worked, they made enough to get up north, and her Uncle Lance and Aunt Gwen brought the rest to other packs, making sure every sickened shifter was treated, and reporting back that they all were now freed, and were all on their way back to the homes they’d been forced away from.

In the meantime, Elsa and Ruby and Ruth worked long long days to try and track Gold. Using everything they could ,they sought to better understand the malicious mind of this maddened man. Anything they could learn could be a clue, but Emma knew this was just the start of their long journey. Her Great Uncle’s snide remarks rang true to Emma – Gold would remain hidden for as long as he could, but if they were all patient, surely someday they would find him, and stop him before any more grief could come their way. To this point Emma still didn’t understand his endgame. He wanted Anna, Elsa, Ruby, and Emma could easily understand that. Three strong witches must surely be a threat, but wanting her for her status as a hybrid… it didn’t make sense to Emma. The only thing she could think was that maybe it wasn’t her that Gold was after. Perhaps it was her baby, who would be a hybrid too, and in even more ways than Emma. But the others remained convinced that Gold could not know. He’d sworn to George Emma couldn’t get pregnant, and for now, that secret was protecting them all. And ultimately, despite the danger Gold still posed, Emma knew in her heart that she would never let anyone hurt her child. One life threatening instance was more than enough – and she knew, down to her bones, that there would never come another time when her baby was at risk from these terrible men.

And yet, in the midst of all of this work and all of this progress, Emma found a way to make good on her promise to Killian. She helped the others as best she could, but she also took time for herself and time for her love. They made their house a home, and found many new moments of peace and tranquil calm. They planned for their wedding, and for their family, and for their future. But more than anything they lived every day to the fullest, knowing that they’d never allow anything or anyone to take this away from them again. For love, in the end, was a powerful thing, and fate was a power even stronger than that. And as for Emma and Killian, fate had decided that they were meant to be, and that they were indeed meant to live a wonderful, glorious, happily ever after.

Post-Note: Hey everyone! So I know there’s still so much that I didn’t get to go into detail on. I wanted to do so much in this chapter, like see Neal make a cure and watch Anna meet Kristoff and all that cuteness. But it just wasn’t meant to be. Instead, I am working on the first epilogue of the story (which will include Emma and Killian’s wedding) and I am on track to post it next weekend. As I’ve previously mentioned, I will also be writing a follow up story to this one, that’s not just from Emma and Killian’s POV but the POV of the other central characters as well. In that story I will be including the Anna/Kristoff meeting and probably more of the process of healing Kristoff, so if you can wait you will someday get a snapshot into that. After that there will eventually also be a second epilogue of this story, where you get to see how everyone is doing in the future, and how life has shaped up for CS and the others. Anyway, thanks so much for riding through this with me. I know it was a really heavy chapter, and so much happened, but I hope that you enjoyed and that you trust me to make everything right with a cute and fluffy wedding chapter next time. Thanks so much to all of you for reading, and as always I can’t wait to hear what you think!

Tag list: @jennjenn615, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @teamhook, @ultraluckycatnd, @resident-of-storybrooke, @artistic-writer, @snowbellewells, @snarkycaptainswan4, @allofdafandoms-blog