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elizabeethan · 4 years

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Always By Your Side

Part 5/6 of It’s About Bloody Time (Season 3 Canon Divergent after Neverland).

Catch up on Ao3 or tumblr!

Summary: “Not that,” she says, and she does roll her eyes this time. “I told them about what happened before. You know, when you left me pregnant in jail for your crime.”

The tone she uses and the satisfaction she gets from his reaction is slightly sadistic, but when his jaw drops open and his eyes bug out, as if this is the most shocking news she could have ever told him, she can’t help but feel her pulse buzz with the sensation of sweet catharsis.

“You did what?” he hisses.

A/N: One part to go!! The next one will likely be a bit shorter, and I'm sure you can guess what it'll consist of content wise! Thank you so much for reading, reblogging and commenting! Reading peoples' reactions is what keeps me going :)

Anna had been brought over in the first curse. Apparently, she and her fiancé Kristoff were in the Enchanted Forest, or Misthaven, as she calls it, looking for information about her parents when the curse struck. When they didn’t return, Elsa froze her kingdom and searched for her sister for 29 years, which is apparently something that she can do.

When Elsa found Anna on a whim, working in the ice cream shop that Henry frequents, she jumped from where she was seated with Emma and Henry and nearly gave Emma a heart attack. As it turns out, Anna knew she needed help getting back home, but was too scared to ask anyone because she kept seeing the sheriffs with the Dark One and wasn’t sure where to turn. Whoops.

Now that all is well, Elsa, Anna, and Emma sit in Granny’s while Kristoff and David catch up and Henry sits at the counter with Hook. They’re considering how they might find their way back to Arendelle, but Emma can’t seem to focus on the conversation at hand.

She has been trying to muster up the courage to talk to Henry for weeks now. Killian rarely lets her forget that she’ll be starting to show very soon, constantly placing his warm hand over her 14-week, not-quite-there-yet baby bump. She wants to tell Henry, she really does, but something in her keeps stopping her. Archie says she fears that she will somehow damage their relationship, and she knows he must be right. He also agrees with Killian that this pregnancy is bringing up some unresolved trauma from her past. What a shock, she thinks.

Talking to Archie has been hard. She told him all about her past; about how she was pregnant and abandoned in prison for a crime she didn’t commit, about how she gave birth while chained to a hospital bed a couldn’t bear to look at her son. She cries a lot during their sessions together, and she knows it isn’t really pregnancy related (now that she’s officially reached her second trimester, her symptoms have been a lot less obnoxious). They’ve been working together for about a month now, and she still cries every time. But every time she starts to apologize, he stops her to thank her for letting him in and for allowing him to understand how she’s feeling. It’s weird, but she thinks she likes it. It’s... what’s the word he always uses? Validating.

“Hopefully I can get another portal working,” Elsa says, drawing Emma out of her thoughts.

Emma nods in response. Elsa finally found a clue of where her sister went when she found Princess Aurora back in the Enchanted Forest, who told her about the curse and that many people were trapped in another realm. “I’m sure you can.”

“Someone is distracted,” she says with a smirk sent Emma’s way, and she hears Anna laugh lightly in agreement.

“I don’t think she’s heard a single word we’ve said, Elsa.”

“I’m sorry,” she says in response. “You’re right, I am distracted. There’s a lot going on right now.”

Elsa nods and Anna smiles sweetly to her, taking a sip from her mug. It’s started to get really chilly out with Christmas just two weeks away, so Emma has successfully turned her new friends on to the wonder that is hot chocolate. “You still haven’t talked to your son, have you?”

Emma smiles softly, briefly, and shakes her head. She and Elsa have become fast friends since they met several weeks ago, and she finds that Elsa can read her almost as well as Killian can. “No,” she says. “I still don’t know how.”

“Well,” Elsa starts, reaching across the table and taking Emma’s hands in hers. “I suppose I don’t know much about your situation. I’ve never been pregnant, and I don’t have any children, but I am the daughter of parents who neglected to tell me the truth for much of my life. Trust me when I say it would have been better for me if they had told me the truth.”

Emma nods, shooting another glance at Henry. He’s laughing at something Killian said, and Killian’s eyes are lighting up as if he’s happier than he’s ever been. “You’re right. I know I have to tell him eventually. I can’t exactly keep hiding it.” As if on instinct, she removes one hand from Elsa’s and reaches it down to rest it against her miniscule bump concealed by a thick sweater.

Much later that night, she finds herself in bed with her pirate again, his hand running soothingly up and down along her the bare skin of her belly as she nestles her back against his front. He continues to press soft kisses against the back of her neck, his nose nuzzling behind her ear, drawing a breathy laugh from her every so often.

“You’re growing, love. Every day the little blob gets bigger and bigger, and soon I’ll finally be able to see him.”

“Or her,” she amends, hoping to keep an open mind. She corrects him pretty often when he mentions the baby being a boy, but in reality, she thinks it’s a boy, too.

“Aye,” he says, kissing her neck again. “Tuesday will be 15 weeks. The applications say you should be getting bigger now that you’re feeling better and the baby is growing more. She’ll be the size of a pear.”

“Apps,” she says with a laugh as she squeezes his hand. “You're cute. And I am getting bigger. I think I have a bump, it’s just hard to distinguish it from regular bloating.”

He hums. “You're rather slight to begin with, love. I believe soon you’ll start to show much more, if the apps are correct.”

“Slight?” she laughs.

“Slim, slender, small,” he says, trailing off and obviously attempting to not offend her.

“Mhmm,” she says. “I was small with Henry, too, but I was probably a bit malnourished.”

“Well, we won’t allow that, now will we, Swan? Perhaps I should go and get you some fruit? You may need it to revive yourself after all that vigorous lovemaking.”

She snorts, reaching behind her to pinch the skin of his hip.

“I would like some fruit, actually. And some Cheez-Its.”

“Sounds like a nice compromise, darling. I’ll be back shortly,” he says, standing and exposing his bare ass to her. She reaches for it quickly and pinches him again, drawing a yelp from him as he leaves the room.

She rolls over onto her back once he leaves, glancing down at her belly and stroking it in small, soft circles. He’s right, she is going to start getting bigger very soon, and it’ll become harder and harder to hide. With this knowledge, she’s faced with the truth: she’ll need to tell Henry, and soon.

~~~~

A week later, when she finally breaks down and realizes that she needs to buy new jeans, she accepts the fact that it’s time. Henry has to know, no matter how he may react. This should be one hell of a Christmas present for him.

She picks him up from Regina’s on Sunday morning, promising him breakfast and cocoa from Granny’s. The moment he hops into the car, she can tell that he’s in a good mood.

“Hey kid,” she says with a smile as he bounces into his seat.

“Hey mom!”

“You're in a good mood today,” she points out.

“Yeah, my mom and dad have been talking about Christmas. I might be getting two Christmases this year!”

“Oh,” she starts, startled by his exclamation as she pulls out of Regina’s driveway. “you mean with Regina and your dad? Because you can spend Christmas with me and your grandparents, too.”

“Really?” The excitement in his voice is more than evident. “Awesome! That’s three Christmases!”

“Yeah.” She smiles over at him, hopeful that his good mood will extend as they arrive at Granny’s. “Come on, kid. Let’s get some waffles, I’ve been craving them all week. And nothing is gonna keep me away from Granny’s hot chocolate now that I can finally drink it again.”

“What do you mean, again?”

Oops. She falters, then says, “nothing, come on.”

Once they're inside and seated, Ruby brings over a mug for Henry and gives Emma a look, as if asking if she wants any, and Emma nods.

“So,” she finally says, once they have full plates set in front of them. “We need to talk.”

He clears his throat around his too-big bite of waffle and looks up at her, his eyes wide. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “No, you're not in trouble, kid. Just… it’s just that things are changing around here, and I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“You mean like you dating Captain Hook?”

“Yeah,” she says tentatively. “Sort of like that; I guess this relates to that.”

“Okay… so what is it? Is this about my dad? I know you guys aren’t together, you know.”

“No, I know. It's not that either, Henry. It’s… I’m… Hook and I…” She inhales more deeply than she knew she could, reaching down to her mug and taking a long sip.

“Mom, whatever’s going on, it’s okay.”

She smiles up at him. Leave it up to her kid to be more mature than her. “Henry… you're going to be… you're going to be a big brother,” she finally spits out before immediately going back to her hot chocolate, her ability to look him in the eye failing her.

“Wait… you mean…?”

“I’m going to have a baby. In June.”

She still can’t look at him, still hides behind her mug, but when he speaks, she thinks she can hear a smile in his voice. “Really?”

When she finally finds it in herself to look up, she does see a smile gracing his face. “Yeah,” she says, matching his expression with her own.

“I’m gonna be a big brother,” he confirms.

“Yeah, you are, kid.”

He laughs now, standing up and walking around the table to sit on his knees next to her in the booth, wrapping her in a hug. “This is awesome!” he says into her ear, and she swears she feels tears stinging the back of her eyes, even though she thought she was past this particular symptom.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah! Of course! Is it a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know yet,” she grins. “We can find out in a few weeks when I go to the doctor.” His face is still alight, and she’s in awe of his reaction. “Henry,” she breathes out, shaking her head. “Are you sure you're… alright with this?”

His draws his brows together, as she often does, and cocks his head to the side. “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, because of…” she starts, looking down from his eyes again and reaching for her mug. “Because of what happened. Because of what I did—when I had you.” She’s surprised at herself for even getting the words out, and she thinks that Archie will be proud of her when she sees him on Wednesday.

“Mom, I thought we talked about this when you came to Storybrooke? I know why you did that.”

She nods, still in awe of his maturity. “I know, but I didn’t want you to think that I'm replacing you. This baby wasn’t planned or anything, but… well, we’re planning on keeping him or her. And I don’t want to make you feel…”

He takes her hand in his, and she finally finds it in herself to look up at him, to meet his eyes with hers, and she sees joy. “You gave me up to give me my best chance. You were in jail; you couldn’t have raised me. But now you're happy and you're in a good place. Don’t you know what that means?” She shakes her head, feeling more childish than her own child. “It means that you're this baby’s best chance now.”

She does feel tears burning her eyes now, the heat of them dripping down onto her cheeks at the sound of his words. “Henry,” she starts, choking on words before they can leave her tongue.

“I’m not a kid anymore, mom. I know that things have changed between now and when you had me.”

She lets out a breath, finding it hard not to laugh at the wise words coming from her son. “You are perceptive, aren’t you?”

“Well, my mom is a bail bondsperson, I guess it runs in the family.”

~~~~

Emma Swan was never very fond of Christmas. Normally viewed as a holiday spent with family, Christmas has been a dark mark on Emma’s past for as long as she could remember. Although she was in Storybrooke last year, she had only arrived a few weeks prior and the curse was not yet broken, so there wasn’t much celebration taking place. The obvious lack of decorations and Christmas spirit should have struck her as odd, but she didn’t think much of it at the time. Now, she realizes that no one who grew up in the Enchanted Forest celebrated the religious holiday. However, now that she’s here and her parents remember her, they are determined to give her a happy holiday season.

They plan to spend Christmas day together tomorrow, but for tonight, she and Killian will be spending Christmas Eve alone in his apartment, and they start by decorating a tree. Killian is determined to give her an authentic Christmas experience as well, and so far, he’s delivering.

He curses as he rounds the tree over and over, trying his hardest to string the lights properly as she stands off to the side and holds the strands for him. “Bloody hell,” he says as he gets stuck with another needle. “Wasn’t there an option for a non-living tree? That might not hurt quite as much.”

“This is my first real Christmas, Killian. I need to have a real tree.”

“The whole tree tradition seems silly to me,” he counters as he pokes his head out from behind again, the lights finally reaching the top.

“That’s because you keep getting poked.”

“Aye, well, perhaps the task would be easier for someone with two hands.”

She rolls her eyes with a soft laugh. “Come on, I have never heard you use that as an excuse, don’t start now.”

He rolls his eyes too, smirking over at her as he takes a box of red and blue ornaments from her, balancing it on his left arm and hanging them with his right. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s compensating for his missing hand.

Once the tree is filled with colorful balls and lit with twinkling white lights, they make their way to the kitchen to work on making cookies, and it takes everything in Emma not to eat the dough each time she breaks a piece off. She elected to buy both the kinds decorated with reindeer and with Santa, figuring the more the merrier.

“These are horrible for you, Swan. The amount of sugar…”

“They're sugar cookies!”

“There’s absolutely no nutritional value. Perhaps we shouldn’t have bought two packages.”

She rolls her eyes again as she opens the hot oven and places the tray inside, trading it for a batch of freshly baked treats. The smells wafts over her nose and fills his kitchen, making her mouth water.

“Please, I plan on eating so many of these that I give birth to a gingerbread baby,” she deadpans to him, pulling a cookie from the parchment and tossing it from one hand to another in hopes of cooling it down before hoisting herself onto the counter.

“That makes no sense, love. You just told me these are sugar cookies, why would you have gingerbread?”

“It’s a children’s book,” she says, grinning to him as she finally takes a bite, saying a quick goodbye to poor Rudolph.

He chuckles, rounding the corning so that he was standing between her knees and placing a hand against her waist. “Perhaps the little love will enjoy that story.”

She giggles—actually giggles—as she presses a soft kiss to his lips. God, she is so gone for him, it’s scary. “Perhaps.”

With his hand running up and down along her waist, finally landing on her ass, he pulls her to the edge of the counter so that she can feel the heat of him against her center through her leggings.

“We don’t have time to do this before the movie comes on,” she reminds him as his soft lips trail along the length of her neck.

“Hmm,” he hums, “perhaps not, but I think it may be worth it.”

She groans when he nips at her ear lobe, then traces the line of her pulse with his tongue. “After.”

He backs away slightly, letting out a sigh and pecking her on the tip of her nose. “As you wish, darling, but I hope you're prepared for what’s to come after this wonderful movie.”

“It’s called It’s a Wonderful Life, you don’t have to be sarcastic,” she says with a laugh, taking his hand and hopping off of the counter. He heads over to the couch and fetches her favorite throw blanket while she takes the last tray of cookies from the oven, then places the cooler ones on a plate and carries them to the couch.

“Sorry, love, I don’t want you to think I’m not happy to be here doing this with you. I’m honored that you wanted to celebrate with me.”

“Well,” she starts, plopping down next to him as he wraps the blanket around her tightly. “You are my baby daddy. I suppose there isn’t anyone else available who I’d rather spend my evening with.”

“Ah, so I’m the best available option, is that it?” he asks with a laugh, squeezing her tightly in his arms and pressing a firm and lingering kiss to her temple.

“Yes, well, my son is with his mother.”

“I’m only teasing, darling. I am truly glad to have you here this evening. And evidently, this film is a classic, or so my baby mama will have me believe.”

She turns her head, unable to move much in the security of his arms and draws her brows tightly together. “Where the hell did you hear that?”

“Our dear friend, Ruby,” he says as the commercial ends and the movie starts. “She asked me this morning how my baby mama was feeling today.”

“I never told her,” she mumbles.

“According to her, she’s very perceptive, and you're horrible at hiding it.”

“Shit.”

“The little peach will be able to hear us soon, Swan, if they can’t already; we may need to find new vocabulary.”

She scoffs, unsure of her ability to not swear, especially during labor and delivery, and turns her focus back onto the movie.

Killian seems to like it, and Emma assumes that it’s slightly easier for him to watch because of the lack of twenty-first century technology getting in his way. She’s always had a soft spot for the film, perhaps because she always hoped to find her family. She knew that she wouldn’t take advantage of it like George Bailey did.

He runs his hand up and down her arm when she cries at the end, kissing her temple and her ear. “That was sweet,” he says as the credits begin to roll.

“It was always my favorite. They based Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street on those characters, you know.”

“I don’t know what that means,” he whispers against her hair, and she feels another kiss against the crown of her head.

“You will in a year or two, trust me.” He chuckles and she turns in his arms so that she’s facing him. “I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Swan,” he argues, but she’s standing anyway, struggling slightly with her hips and back aching after sitting for so long. She heads for his coat closet and returns with a few wrapped rectangles, thrusting them towards him as she plops back down.

He looks to her before peeling the tape away from one of them, unwrapping them carefully and not even tearing the paper. It threatens to drive her insane, but it’s so painfully Killian.

When he finally removes the festive paper, he smiles at the sight of the book’s cover art. “Peter Pan, why the bloody hell would I want to read this,” he says jokingly through a laugh, hugging her into his side and kissing her cheek.

“It’s more of a gag gift, I thought you might want to learn about this world’s depiction of you. The others are probably going to be more enjoyable.” He opens the other two, revealing Treasure Island and Robinson Crusoe. “They're pirate books,” she explains. “There are movies you might like, too, but I thought you’d want to start with the books.”

“Aye, love, I’d love to. I look forward to reading them.” He kisses her softly, his tongue slipping along her bottom lip. “Thank you, love,” he nearly whispers, his voice rough and deep.

“It’s nothing,” she breathes out, overwhelmed by the gravel in his voice.

“It was a wonderful gesture,” he kisses her once more. “I got you something as well.”

She shakes her head, but he catches her jaw in his hand and kisses her again before standing and making his way to his bedroom. He returns quickly with a giftbag stuffed with tissue paper.

“Did you have help wrapping this?” she grins.

“Aye, Granny gave me a hand.”

She laughs at the picture in her head and takes the bag as he hands it to her. She removes some of the tissue and pulls out a maroon leather jacket, drawing a grin along her face. “I don’t have one in this color,” she points out, looking up at him and cocking her head to the side.

“There’s more in the bag, love.”

She looks down again, her attention being brought back to the gift bag as she digs her hand in deeper and feels more leather near the bottom. She pulls gently, expecting it to come out with more difficulty than it does. When she removes the item, she realizes it’s because she wasn’t tugging on a leather jacket made for a fully-grown woman.

What she pulls out of the bag instead is a tiny leather jacket, the same color as the one that was just gifted to her. A matching leather jacket for a matching tiny human.

“Killian,” she says, her grin somehow growing and her cheeks burning. “This is… this is so adorable.” She’s laughing as she holds the jacket up again, then she stands and holds it up against her tiny bump. “It’s perfect, look!”

He’s laughing now too, standing with her and placing his hand on her belly. “I’m glad you like it, love.”

“I do, I love it,” she says, nodding and looking up at him. Without thinking, she places the jacket back down on the couch and reaches her arms around his neck to link her hands in his hair, pulling him down to her for a soft kiss that eventually turns heated when his tongue runs along hers.

Before she knows it, her legs are around his waist and he’s carrying her out of the living room and down the hall before gently laying her down on his king-sized bed. It was certainly an improvement from his small bunk on the Jolly Roger, and if she thought she was sleeping well there, she had a new thing coming when she started sleeping here.

He trails his lips along her body, lifting her to remove her festive sweater and kiss along the cleavage peeking out of her bra. She lifts again, undoing the hooks for him and releasing her breasts for him to ravage before he trails his lips and teeth and tongue down to her belly, pressing soft and loving kisses along the slight swell of skin before reaching to remove her leggings.

His tongue dances along her clit for several moments before he adds two fingers, drawing her to her peak quickly as he sucks and nips at her sensitive skin. She tugs on his hair, begging him to meet her lips with his before he’s pulling his clothes off and sinking into her tenderly. His thrusts are gentle yet precise, and she’s nearly driven mad at the feel of his scruffy face dragging along the sensitive skin of her neck. He continues to drive into her, reaching his hand down to where they're joined to rub quick circles against her aching clit, drawing moans and screams from her parted lips as she finally flutters and clenches around his throbbing cock.

It’s as he finishes, his face buried into her neck just below her ear, his hand squeezing hers above her head as her other scratches marks into his back, that she hears it. His lips press against her neck as he lets out moans and words of encouragement before she hears him whisper, “I love you,” into her sensitive skin.

She’s in a post-coital daze, but she knows she doesn’t imagine it. She knows she heard it without a doubt in her mind, and although her breath catches and her body tenses, her heart still beating rapidly, she doesn’t pull away from him. She doesn’t try to run.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and she knows that he didn’t mean to let it slip. “I’m—” he starts, but he doesn’t seem to have anything to say.

“Killian,” she whispers, running her hands along his back and through his hair. “It’s alright.”

“I didn’t, uh,” he starts, perhaps suddenly realizing that he’s still inside her as he presses his body up from hers and reaches for the box of tissues by the bed. “I didn’t exactly mean to let that out just then.”

“I figured,” she says with a smile, accepting the tissue he hands her and cleaning herself up.

“It wasn’t exactly… how I’d planned to tell you. But… Emma, you must know that I meant it.”

Now she panics slightly, a bit surprised at herself for only becoming scared once she receives confirmation that this is, in fact, how he feels. “You did?”

“Aye, very much so. I realize that you may not be ready to say it back, which is why I wasn’t going to say it any time soon, but…” he trails off, still struggling to make eye contact with her, which she doesn’t mind. He takes the tissues from her and tosses them into the bin before taking a seat next to her. “I don’t expect you to say it back. But I need you to know that I meant it. And it’s not just because of the babe. He’s certainly helped to… solidify things… but how I feel is independent of this little bugger.”

She considers this. Considers saying something in response. It would be the emotionally mature thing to do, and she’s certainly been working on her emotional maturity lately. But she has no idea what to say, and now she’s starting to think about how she truly feels about him. About how he truly feels about her. Now, she’s starting to worry that she may love him too.

Is worry the right word?

Before she can say anything, she feels a soft flutter in her stomach, as if she’s the host to a flock butterflies and they're trying to take off. She immediately lets her eyes bug out, reaching down to her belly and pressing softly into it in hopes that she’ll feel more. “Killian,” she says, pulling on his hand and placing it under hers. It’s silly, she knows; he can’t feel anything yet. But she wants him to be a part of this. “I felt him.”

“He moved?” he asks with a smile thick in his voice.

“He was fluttering just a second ago,” she responds, grinning as she looks at him with tears in her eyes. “You won’t be able to feel it yet, but…”

“Aye,” he whispers, finally meeting her eyes with his glassy ones. He leans in to press another kiss to her lips before leaning down and kissing her belly. He whispers, “nice to hear from you, little one,” before kissing her skin again.

She laughs through her tears and squeezes his hand as it rests against their growing baby. She can’t bring herself to say anything to him yet. They haven’t even been together for very long, only about four months. Is that even enough time for someone to fall in love with someone else? With her?

She thinks of what Archie would say when she starts to doubt herself and whether she’s deserving of the love of another, using the skills he’s been teaching her to challenge her negative thoughts, then focuses back on her child and its father. Whether or not she thinks of herself as deserving of his love, or capable of loving him back, she sleeps soundly with the knowledge that she and Killian are both madly in love with the life they’ve created together.

~~~~

Emma Swan has never fully been able to relate to the term “like a kid on Christmas morning,” until she woke up on Christmas morning to Killian Jones with his head between her legs. That comparison may be slightly disturbed, but the feeling she’s experiencing now must be on par with how a child feels when they wake up to their dreams coming true.

He was determined to make this holiday season a good one for her, and so far, he’s off to a great start.

Her hips start to jolt upwards, and he reaches his hand up and places it gently on her belly to still her before he laces his fingers with hers. He continues to draw thick strips between her folds, the sounds coming from him absolutely sinister and drawing loud moans from her lips. His tongue zips from side to side over her clit before he starts sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a pop, making her hips jump again.

Eventually, she drags their hands downward so that she can let go and lace her fingers through his hair once his own reach her opening and press inside. He doesn’t bother to tease her open with just one, seemingly able to read that she’s more than ready to take two of his thick fingers. He may regret letting go of her hips as she moves them with ferocity against his face and fingers, but it doesn’t seem like he minds as she feels the low buzz of his moans.

He makes her come so hard that, once she feels herself becoming lucid again, she starts laughing. It’s a soft chuckle at first, but then it morphs into uncontrollable hysterics until her eyes are watering and her face is red and hot. He starts laughing too, wiping his mouth and scooting himself up to her level to lie down and comb through the ends of her messy hair with his fingers.

“What’s funny, love?”

“I don’t know,” she laughs again. “I guess I was just thinking about what a nice Christmas present that was.” She’s laughed so hard now that she begins to cough, and he reaches towards the side of the bed and hands her a bottle of water.

“Glad you enjoyed,” he says with a smirk and a kiss to the tip of her nose as she hums out another laugh.

“I’m nervous,” she finally says once she’s settled down, sinking back into the thick comforter and into the warmth of his arms.

“For dinner? I thought things were better with your family now that you’ve spoken to your parents?”

She hums, nodding into his shoulder and turning onto her side, slotting her leg over his hips to hold onto him like a koala. “They are, but my mom invited Neal and Regina, plus Granny and Ruby. I get why—she wanted to make it feel like a true family dinner for Henry. But I still don’t really want to face Neal.”

He sighs, his blunted arm running gently along her bare back and his fingers tracing patterns into the back of her hand, and says, “you can still be upset, love. I’m not particularly fond of the idea myself, but you're right. It is a good idea for Henry’s sake.”

“You're always thinking about him,” she sighs, kissing his neck where she can reach it.

“Only because I’m always thinking about you.”

“Cheese,” she says, pinching the skin on his side, just above a rather nasty-looking scar.

Once they're showered and dressed festively, they head over to Mary Margaret and David’s loft for dinner. She never did understand the concept of calling it dinner, since they arrived at noon and they’ll likely eat at one-thirty, but she lets it slide. She’s realizing that there are a lot of things about Christmas that she doesn’t understand, but she’s trying to roll with it.

The loft is decorated to the nines, covered from floor to ceiling in red and gold. The tree is sitting in the corner by the stairs, and it’s so tall that it almost reaches the second level, and Emma wonders how on earth they got it up the stairs and through the door. It looks beautiful, as if it should be featured in a magazine that she sees at the dentist office.

Mary Margaret, dressed in a red and gold sweater and black skirt and covered with an apron that makes her look like an elf, rushes over to the door when they arrive and embraces the two of them in a warm hug. “I’m so happy to see you both!” she exclaims excitedly into Emma’s hair. She returns her hug with one arm, smiling despite herself.

“Me too,” Emma responds truthfully with a small squeeze.

“Killian, you look positively dashing in red,” she says to him, taking in his royal red vest and making his cheeks turn pink. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him wear it, and when she found it in the closet and insisted that he put it on, he cringed and groaned and argued. But when he pulled it over his black button down, she grinned in a way that must have broken him down. “And look at you, Emma! You look so beautiful in emerald.”

“Thank you,” she says softly, pulling away and brushing down the front of her figure-hugging cowlneck dress and making her way towards the stool at the counter. “Where’s David?”

“Oh, he forgot to get the champagne yesterday, so I sent him out for it. I also asked him to get some sparkling cider for you, Emma, so you can be part of the toast.”

She laughs lightly, feeling Killian’s arm resting along the top of her shoulders and his body sliding to her left. “Thanks.”

Her father comes home, giving her a tight hug and shaking Killian’s hand before wishing them both a Merry Christmas. When Henry finally arrives with Regina, she grins at the outfit she has him in. He’s wearing a black three-piece suit with an emerald tie that perfectly matches Emma’s sweater dress, and she couldn’t have planned something better. “Hey kid,” she says, reaching out to him for a tight hug.

“Hi mom,” he says into her shoulder. “Merry Christmas.”

They separate a bit, and she takes his face in her hands and looks at him lovingly before reaching up to gently feel his gel-cast hair and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He looks like a tiny gentleman and her hormonal heart can’t handle it. “You look so handsome, Henry.”

He puts his arms out at his side and spins. “Thanks. Do you like my new suit? My dad helped pick it out.”

Ugh, she thinks, before shoving the thought to the back of her mind for the sake of her son. “He did great.”

“And look, the tie matches you!”

She nods back at him with a grin before kissing his forehead once more and releasing him, determined not to press her luck with the amount of affection he allows her to show. He is nearly a pre-teen, after all.

Plus, soon enough, she’ll have another kid to dote over.

She grins at that thought.

Ruby and Granny arrive soon after, both giving her a hug. Granny surprisingly hugs Killian first, although he doesn’t seem that taken aback by the gesture, then comes to Emma and runs a hand over her belly briefly and shooting her a sweet smile. It’s as if the world has shifted on its axis.

Regina walks over to her, much to her continued surprise, and wishes her a Merry Christmas. She thanks Emma for letting Henry spend the night at her house, telling her that he had a great time eating sweets and watching Elf, and that he was very excited to come down the stairs to presents under the tree this morning. “Well, I suppose that congratulations are in order,” she says somewhat awkwardly, finally making eye contact with Killian before turning back to Emma and glancing down for a moment.

“Oh,” Emma says in surprise. “You heard.”

“Henry told me.” Emma almost makes a snarky comment about being surprised that Neal didn’t spill the beans. “You should know that he’s veryexcited.”

Emma smiles and Killian squeezes her knee as if to say I told you so, Swan. “He is?”

“Oh, yes. He thinks that he’s going to have a baby sister.”

Emma feels a grin splitting her face at that, and suddenly feels overwhelmed by the image of Henry holding a tiny pink bundle, leaning down to kiss her nose, talking to her about magic and curses and fairy tales. “Thank you,” she says after a moment. “That’s… very comforting.”

“Yes, well…” Regina trails off, stiffening again and pursing her red-stained lips. “Best wishes to you both.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Killian says diplomatically.

When Neal arrives, Emma wishes she could indulge in some champagne like the rest of the adults in the room.

Watching him with Henry is reassuring, at least. He’s proven himself to be a fairly devoted father, now that he’s in his son’s life, and she knows that she can’t hold their past over his head forever. She also knows that she isn’t ready to fully forgive him yet, but she can put their history to the side for the sake of their son… today.

At least, that’s what she had hoped, until he came up to her and put his hand on her shoulder, making her flinch. “Hey, Ems,” he says, miraculously able to read her body language and removing his hand.

“Hey.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, thanks. You too.” She glances down at her flute of cider, wishing again that she could magically turn it into champagne to take some of the edge off.

“You look great.” She sighs, fighting the urge to roll her eyes, and instead doesn’t give him a response. “Emma, look. Since the pirate seems to finally be out of earshot, I wanted to come over and talk to you.”

She feels the heat of anger burning through her veins, her eye twitching and her fingers clenching firmly on her glass at his judgmental remark. “You're not off to a great start,” she says stiffly.

“Sorry, that was rude, I guess. What I meant was, I wanted to talk to you privately.”

“Okay,” she says tentatively. “What is it?”

He takes in a breath and lets it out roughly, taking a seat in the empty stool to her right. “I wanted to apologize. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I realized how stupid and selfish I was of me to go to you like I did. And for me to assume that the baby was mine. Like, that was really stupid.”

“Yeah, it was,” she agrees, not feeling like sugarcoating it. He’s right, it was stupid and selfish. Like, extremely stupid.

He laughs lightly, which only serves to piss her off more, and continues. “I guess I just got really jealous. I thought you and I could have worked out eventually, and he said he’s back off. I mean, we have a kid together,” he says with a laugh.

“Right, we do, and that’s great. But now I’m having a kid with someone else and you and I are over. We’ve been over for twelve years.”

“Yeah. I know that now. I'm sorry, Ems.”

She nods, still struggling to look him in the eye. It’s not exactly what she wanted to hear from him, but she supposes it’s a start. “I appreciate your apology, Neal, but I’m still gonna need some time. I can’t just forget about everything overnight.”

“I know, I know. Take your time. Just know that I’m here for you and Henry for whatever either of you need.”

She wants to roll her eyes. What could she possibly need from him? Henry, sure. She’s glad that he wants to be there for him. But her? He’s just being pompous. He’s probably expecting Killian to walk out on her the same way he did.

“Hey, are your parents okay? They seem kind of off today.”

She almost smiles, but fights it back, not wanting to be petty on Christmas. “They seem fine to me.”

“Well, I don’t know why it would just be me.”

Screw it, she thinks. “Maybe it’s because I told them about what happened between us.”

“Well, your mom knows I thought the baby was mine.”

“Not that,” she says, and she does roll her eyes this time. The idea that he genuinely thought that this baby could have been his still astounds her, the idiot. “I told them about what happened before. You know, when you left me pregnant in jail for your crime.”

“You did what?” he hisses.

“Oh, I told them what happened.”

“Why? You know I didn’t have a choice!”

She hums, still looking down at her hands and trying hard to fight the smile. “If you didn’t have a choice, then there shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“You're still making me look bad to my kid’s grandparents,” he spits out in a low tone.

“Oh, I’m making you look bad?” He’s triggered something in her now, making her whip her head in his direction and raise her voice just a touch too high. “It’s just like I said. If you didn’t have a choice, then your conscience should be clear. Doesn’t that mean you did nothing wrong?”

Before he has a chance to respond, Mary Margaret calls everyone to the table. She certainly would have continued to argue with him, but she keeps the spirit of Christmas alive in her mind.

Unlike the last time the entire family was sat around this table, her assigned seat is next to Killian’s. She also has Henry on her right, so she thinks she couldn’t be more pleased with the arrangement until Neal takes his seat across from her. It’s alright, though, she’s focusing on a positive attitude today, for the sake of their son.

“Before we begin,” David says, standing up once everyone has found their seats. “I wanted to propose a toast. Firstly, to Henry, for spending his first Christmas with his family, sans curse. The same could be said for Emma as well,” he lifts his glass and everyone at the table does the same, murmuring in agreement and passing around smiles. “I also wanted to say a thank you to my lovely wife, Snow, for graciously hosting this dinner for our family.” More murmurs and raised glasses. “And I believe she has something to say here as well?”

Mary Margaret stands now, holding her glass but not raising it quite yet, and each person at the table turns to face her. “Thank you, honey. I wanted to say a few words to Emma and Killian.” In surprise, Emma purses her lips and cocks up an eyebrow. “As I believe everyone here is aware, the two of them are expecting a baby in the middle of June.” She sees Ruby and Granny smirking at her from across the table. “When I first heard the news, I was surprised, and I didn’t handle it very well.” Mary Margaret is looking squarely at the two of them, and Emma thinks she can see her eyes glassing over as she speaks. “I wanted to say, to my daughter, I feel so much joy when I think about you having another child. I’m so sorry that my response at first wasn’t anywhere near what it should have been, especially coming from your mother. Now that I’ve gotten over the shock, I hope to support you in any way that I can. I cannot wait to meet my grandbaby and to see you as a mother again.” Emma’s eyes sting now as she smiles up at her.

“And to Hook…” she swallows, clearing her throat before continuing. “To Killian, thank you. I can see clearly now the way that you treat our daughter—like the princess that she is.” She chuckles a bit before continuing. “This pregnancy may not have been planned in the slightest, but the amount of love and respect you have for Emma is palpable each time I see the two of you together.” She smiles at each of them before going on. “I also wanted to apologize to him. David and I were not exactly accepting of him when we first heard the news, myself especially. But, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that everyone deserves a second chance. And if there’s one person I know who has proven himself deserving of a second chance, it’s you. If the way that you treat my daughter is any indication, you will be a wonderful father.” She’s looking directly at him when she raises her glass, adorning him with a soft grin as a tear slips from her eye. Emma squeezes his knee this time, feeling the tears burning her eyes and heating up her cheeks as they fall.

“To Emma and Killian,” David takes over. “May their baby be healthy and happy, wanting for nothing.” Each person at the table brings their glasses to the center, clinking them together and giving her and Killian soft smiles. She doesn’t bother to look in Neal’s direction. “Now, let’s eat!”

~~~~

The weeks fly by, the new year coming and going, and before they know it, it’s the middle of January and Emma is twenty weeks pregnant. Killian was right when he said she would start to show soon—her belly has grown into a formidable bump, and the two of them can’t seem to stop themselves from touching it whenever they can.

She really needs him to stop touching it now, though, because she knows the ultrasound technician will be in any moment and she doesn’t want them to walk in on him tickling her like he is now.

Her symptoms have been relatively easy since starting the second trimester, the worst of them being the cramps she gets in her legs and her near debilitating heartburn. She remembers the heartburn from her pregnancy with Henry, but the muscle cramps are worse than she can recall. She’s been dealing with heartburn by eating small meals pretty frequently, and she finds herself to be hungry very frequently now that her horrible morning sickness is finally at bay. According to Killian's applications, she's gained a healthy amount of weight so far.

The anatomy scan is important and exciting, though they still haven’t decided if they want to know the sex. She’s looking forward to seeing the baby again and learning about its growth and development, hopeful that everything is going as it should. They’ve had many conversations back and forth, but they can’t seem to come to a conclusion on whether they should find out what, or who, she’s carrying.

They both sort of suspect that she’s having a boy, although they have absolutely no reasoning behind their thoughts. Henry is convinced that he’s going to have a baby sister, and she’s considering finding out just for him.

When the sonographer arrives, Killian sits back, finally moving to stop annoying her. She greets them happily, asks how things are going, and reaches for the cold gel before applying it to her bare bump. She scans the wand over her belly, showing them the baby’s face and body and organs as she notes things down and takes measurements. The process is a long one, and it seems to take hours of rubbing and pressing and Emma turning from side to side before she finally gets all of the information she needs.

“I can see the sex of your baby— very easily. This little one is not very shy! Are you two interested in knowing what you're having?”

They look at each other and she shrugs and smiles. She genuinely doesn’t know, and now that it’s time to come to a decision, she can’t see to make one.

“If you’re having trouble deciding, I can write it on a piece of paper and seal it in an envelope.”

Killian laughs and squeezes her hand, looking back over to the screen at the baby’s round face and perfectly sloped nose. “I like that idea, love,” he says to her, and she nods.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Once they're home—or should she say, back at Killian’s place— she takes the yellow envelope from her pocket and places it on the kitchen table. Maybe they’ll have some elaborate announcement or maybe she’ll just rip the envelope open one day, unable to wait any longer. Whatever they decide, she knows it’ll be perfect.

~~~~

Tagging:

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