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walviemort · 2 years

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You Owe Me [6/6]

Tired of losing Lost Boys to Hook’s sword, Peter Pan decides that the pirate will be replacing the ones he took—the old-fashioned way: by growing (and birthing) them himself. As Killian grapples with these unexpected pregnancies, it will test not only his body and his endurance, but especially his heart. (Eventual Captain Swan)

Aaaaaand here it is—the final chapter! Thanks for going on this little adventure with me :) Hope you've enjoyed it; I know I have! And thank you again to @sancocnutclub for the inspo—hope it lived up to your idea!!!

rated T / 5.3k / part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / AO3

Some time later, Killian was awoken to the quiet sound of someone laughing—or, rather, trying to hold back laughter.

And then, with slightly more urgency, to the feeling of tiny appendages pressing on his bladder.

He attempted to sit up, but something was blocking his way—and further quiet chuckling soon commenced. Blearily, he blinked his eyes and then rubbed them, bringing into clarity the image before him: a bump that was quite a bit larger than it had been when he fell asleep, thus inhibiting his attempt to move normally. And beyond that, Emma—watching him with humor sparkling in her eyes.

“Well I’m glad you find this funny,” he quipped, awkwardly turning himself so he could sit up sideways. “Any chance you could help me up?” he asked once he realized that there was a reason he’d never slept on anything lower than his bunk in any previous pregnancy.

“Sure,” she said, still laughing, and came over to offer her hands. He ignored the skip his heart made when their fingers touched, or the way she didn’t hesitate to grip his hook, but he did briefly worry if his increased heft would pose a problem.

Thankfully, it didn’t, though he did sway forward a bit once he was upright, bumping his belly into her. “Oof, sorry,” he quickly apologized. “And thanks.”

She rubbed her own stomach. “No problem; just tell that kid to calm down.”

“Would if I could,” he replied, massaging a spot on his belly that appeared to be under attack. “Beg your pardon, but I need to excuse myself for some, ah, relief.”

Emma’s eyes went wide. “Too much information.”

“Not that kind!” he quickly exclaimed. “The normal kind.”

She was holding back another smirk. He just shook his head and shuffled off to find a private spot in the trees.

His belly had definitely popped out as he slept; he wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been out, but if he’d been around the five-month mark before, he was past seven months now. His tunic was holding on but it did nothing to hide his stomach.

And bloody hell, was the little one active. Before he joined the others, he took a moment to study the bump, not wanting to subject them to such an odd sight and to preserve what little of his vanity remained. The stretch marks he saw upon lifting his tunic were not surprising, nor was it that his navel was slightly popped out. He certainly still had a ways to go, but from what he could tell, things were progressing well. And the babe was eagerly pressing in all directions; he could make out the distinct impression of hands and feet.

But—was it just him, or was he feeling more than four limbs?

He felt around and took as quick a stock as possible, and he counted at least six tiny hands and/or feet pressing against his belly, and could feel a couple more moving against his ribs.

“Shit,” he cursed. “Fuck.”

“Hook? What’s wrong?” Emma sounded concerned as she ran towards him; he quickly pulled his tunic down.

“Oh, Pan’s just as much of a lying bastard as ever,” he griped. “It’s twins.”

“What? You can tell?”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Like, four hours or so?”

He shook his head in disbelief; that only put him past the six-month mark. “If it were only one, I wouldn’t be this big yet,” he said, cupping his bump. “And I know what twins feel like. There’s definitely two.”

Emma stepped a bit closer, hands outstretched. “Can I?”

“Be my guest.” He didn’t exactly sound gracious, though.

His annoyance dissipated a bit under her touch as she gently traced the curve of his belly with both hands. She smiled a bit, but he could see the look of shock when came to the same realization. “Holy shit, there’s two.”

“I told you.”

“So how much is this going to suck for you?”

“An awful lot.”

She hummed a moment. “Would a whole bunch of mangoes help?”

He smiled a bit at her effort. “They certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

Back at the camp, Regina was up, and the others were stirring. “What was that about?” she asked, looking somehow pristine despite their surroundings.

“Demon arsehole child put bloody twins in me,” he grumbled, then tried to bend over and grab a mango off the pile near the fire only to find he couldn’t.

He bit back an uncharacteristic whine, but Emma was quickly at his side, grabbing a couple for him.

“Are you sure?” David asked sleepily from his and Snow’s bedroll. (“Again?” he heard Tink complain, but he was more focused on clarifying for David.)

“I think I know just how many sets of limbs are attacking my kidneys,” he snapped back.

“It might not have been on purpose,” Snow offered optimistically. “Identical twins are spontaneous.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like we have access to an ultrasound machine in this jungle to find out,” Emma replied.

He wanted to ask what language Emma was speaking, but Regina chimed in. “Actually, I thought this might happen. The spell you described him using—it’s notoriously imprecise.”

Killian raised an eyebrow; that must have been why she seemed curious when he described it earlier. “And just who have you been knocking up, your Majesty?”

“No one, but I remember reading about it, and hearing about others using it. Egg cells are very tiny; it’s not hard to accidentally get more than one. Just be glad it’s not four in there.”

Everyone shuddered.

“It also doesn’t necessarily guarantee they’re boys, if that was what Pan wanted,” Regina added. “With that spell, the odds of one or the other are the same as in natural conception.”

“Better hope at least one is,” Tink said. “Pan’s never had much use for little girls.”

“Which means he’d make me do this again until he got a boy,” Killian sighed, then glanced down at his bump. “One of you better have a penis.” Snorts of laughter filled the clearing, but he wasn’t kidding.

“So, wait,” Emma started. “Where did the…eggs and everything come from?”

Regina blinked. “Damn, I hadn’t thought about that. Did he say?” she asked Killian.

“He made a point not to answer that question, though I can confirm that some came from me.”

The four women all suddenly glanced at their midsections, then his. And a rather pregnant pause settled over the group.

He just sighed and shuffled to the nearest log and plopped down, then massaged his bump; he was a patient man, but the next several hours were suddenly daunting.

A sliced mango appeared in his vision, held out by an apologetic-looking Emma, even though she had little to do with his situation (as far as he knew). Still, he gave her a small smile as he took it from her and thanked her.

She took a seat next to him as he began to munch on (well, devour) the fruit, slowly picking at her own. It was clear she didn’t know what to say, and he was unusually speechless, too. Until the babes started to move even more, at least, seemingly in reaction to the mango.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed. “Can’t you kick at something other than my ribs?” he chastised his belly.

“Guess they like mango, too, huh? Like father, like kids?”

He chuckled, but it stalled. These were really his kids—he was really their father.

And Pan was going to take them away from him.

“Oh shit, what’s wrong? What did I say?”

He sniffled and looked over at Emma, suddenly aware of the fact he was crying. “Sorry; just—they’re mine.”

“Y…yeah?” Emma said, not connecting the dots.

Tink filled her in, though. “He was just a surrogate for the others; they weren’t technically his, even though he carried them.”

Emma’s mouth dropped in surprise. “So these…oh, wow. Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Tink agreed. She knew what losing them would do to him.

Snow jumped in. “Well, what can we do to keep them away from Pan? There has to be something.”

Regina was starting to look annoyed, and while Snow’s optimism was appreciated, he knew it wasn’t an option. Sadly, he shook his head and replied, “That wasn’t part of Pan’s deal, and it’d be worse to break it. Gods only know what might happen to Bae, or Henry.”

He could see a look of resolve set in Snow’s brow, much as he’d seen it in Emma’s in the past, but it was a case of losing the battle in the hopes of still winning the war. He glanced across the circle at Tink, who was giving him a sad, knowing smile.

And then he needed to relieve himself again, so he awkwardly rose to his feet to take care of that. Emma tried to help him, but he waved her off; he needed a moment alone.

Or several. He found a mango tree just past the treeline and spent a fair bit of time grazing, as it were, and trying to focus his thoughts on something other than the two little ones tag teaming his liver.

He was somewhat aware of the babes’ continued growth; every now and then, he had to change his stance, and he started to feel some practice contractions. His bump looked to be about where it was when he was full-term with his single pregnancies, which he believed actually put him around the seven-month mark here; roughly six hours to go.

Eventually, footsteps sounded on the detritus of the forest floor; it was Tink. “How are you doing?” she asked.

“As good as I can be,” he said quietly. “Mango?” He hoped offering her one might distract her from whatever serious conversation she was here to have.

“Snow still thinks there’s a way to intervene,” she said as she accepted it. “But we know that’s a lost cause.”

“Aye, though I appreciate that she wants to try.”

“This is definitely his cruelest trick yet.”

“Of that, we are definitely agreed. I…” He swallowed. “I don’t think I’d have consented if I’d known this was part of it. Apologies to Bae, but this one is going to be harder to get over.”

“I’m readying my shoulder to cry on,” Tink said, attempting to make things light. “Or would you rather use Emma’s?”

He glared at her, but she wasn’t wrong.

She took a couple bites of her mango, then asked, “Whose do you think they are?”

Try as he might not to, his mind had wandered that way. “Honestly, I don’t know; I can see a reason why he might have chosen any one of you. You, given our history; Regina, considering we’ve had a rocky relationship thus far. He’s aware of my feelings for Emma and why that might be especially painful, but it’d be a cruel twist for it to be Snow and for these to be Emma’s siblings.”

“You’ve thought way too much about this.”

“I’m a captain, lass; it’s what I do. Wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise.”

She nodded in agreement, then chewed on another piece of fruit and, if he wasn’t mistaken, another question. “Who do you want it to be?”

That was both a loaded question, and incredibly simple. “Emma, as bittersweet as that might be.”

Tink patted him on the shoulder with an odd smile, and walked away. He was slightly confused, until he looked in the other direction and noticed Emma, who, but the somewhat shocked, somewhat bashful look on her face had overheard.

“Emma,” he breathed, then tried to take a step towards her, only to stumble somewhat.

To very little surprise, she turned and ran.

“Emma, wait,” he shouted, attempting to follow as quickly as he could. By the time he got back to the clearing, she was dragging her mother away in the opposite direction. David, confused, followed them with his eyes, then looked back at Killian.

“What did you do?” he barked.

“I thought I was having a private conversation with a friend,” he said, “but I suspect she was aware it wasn’t so private.” He stared daggers at Tink.

“Well excuse me for trying to do some matchmaking; it’s not like any of us can do much else while those infants are growing,” she tossed back, clearly amused with herself.

Killian huffed. “I’m taking another nap.”

David and Tink helped him stack a few more bedrolls on top of his own, and he promptly passed out once he got comfortable (which took thankfully less arranging than he anticipated). Not even dreams reached him as he rested deeply—and he needed it, given what was to come.

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

He had no idea how long it’d been when he was awoken by another practice contraction, but he did feel fairly rested—although his attempt to stretch was interrupted by the weight about his midsection. He rubbed his stomach, just realizing how taut the fabric of his shirt was, and blinked his eyes—to see Emma sitting on the nearest log, watching him again.

“What was I doing now?” he grumbled.

She smirked. “Just sleeping peacefully. But those two little ones were putting on a show.”

“That’s not surprising.” They still seemed to be wriggling about as much as they could, much to the chagrin of his internal organs. He was past the point of caring about what kind of noises he made as he shifted to a sitting position, nor that just that bit of movement had him out of breath (but at least it could be attributed to the fact that two tiny sets of feet were pressing on his lungs). “Is everything alright?” he asked; her face had quickly fallen.

She glanced around, as if to make sure they were alone. “Did you mean it, what you said to Tink?” she said quietly. “About wishing I was the mom?”

He swallowed, but he didn’t quite know what to say, other than a simple “Aye.”

Emma looked down at her hands, wringing them a bit. “The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was give up Henry. Even if I knew he was going to have a better life than I did, there was part of me that desperately wanted to hold onto him. I couldn’t…I couldn’t even look at him, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to let him go. And I know I wouldn’t be able to do that again,” she concluded, finally looking up with stony resolve in her eyes.

He nodded. “I know what you mean. Even if I wasn’t the biological parent of the other babes, I still became far more attached than I should have been, even knowing I couldn’t keep them. Hell, the first one, I don’t think I actually considered it until he was out. But it’s been harder to watch them leave each time. I’m…I’m already bracing myself for the worst,” he admitted.

Emma got off the log and took a seat next to him. “Well, I never thought I’d be interested in a guy who has that in common with me.”

Killian froze. Was she actually…did she just say…?

Before he could form anything resembling a sentence, she was turning his head toward hers and placing another kiss to his lips. He pressed back toward her as much as he could, which was painfully not enough. And rudely, another practice contraction broke them apart, making him hiss at the ache.

Emma stayed close, and her hand wandered across the lower curve of his belly, fingering the hem of his shirt. “Can I?” she asked softly.

“If you want, though it’s not the prettiest sight,” he answered; he could only imagine what his stretch marks looked like now.

She shrugged. “I dunno; the bump is kind of cute,” she smiled.

He blushed, but nodded his assent, and she carefully pulled up the tight fabric, her hand warm on his stretched skin until the tunic was bunched on top of his oversized belly. And then she proceeded to gently massage his strained muscles, while also feeling the babes move around. It was oddly, quietly intimate.

He probably could have fallen asleep again with the way he was melting under her touch, but he had his own question for her that wouldn’t let him rest. “Why did you run, love?”

She paused her ministrations for a moment, but then continued on. “Because that’s what I do; it took me by surprise, and honestly, I don’t generally do well with feelings and declarations of them, even if I was technically eavesdropping.”

“And why was that?” he teased.

“Just checking on you!” she insisted. “But. My mom gave me one of her patented hope speeches. And my priority is absolutely Henry and saving him, but…that doesn’t mean I can’t explore some other opportunities while I’m at it.” She let her hands rest on the sides of his belly. “But I have to ask you one thing: Did you do this to save Neal for me? Because you think that’s something I want?”

He glanced down and traced his considerable bump with his hand. “I can’t say I didn’t take your relationship with him into consideration, but it was mostly my own history with Bae that made me do that. I abandoned him here once; I couldn’t do it again.”

“Okay. Because he’s not the one I want anymore.” And she placed another peck on his cheek. “Let’s do this thing.”

She hopped to her feet and held her hands out to him—an echo of where they were after his last sleep, but he was considerably larger than he was then, which meant he needed her help even more. At least she knew to step back once he was upright, lest he accidentally knock her over as he regained his balance.

The vain part of him wanted to cover up his exposed belly, but he was also sweltering and it soon wouldn’t fit anyways, so he just left it; let them stare.

And stare they did, to no surprise; how often did they see a man who appeared to be eight months pregnant with twins? “Thank goodness twins aren’t genetic on my side,” he heard Snow mutter to David. “One baby was enough.” She was rubbing her own stomach, though he couldn’t tell if it was in memory or sympathy.

Emma asked him if he wanted to sit, but he had a hunch that if he did, he’d never get back up, even if his ankles were aching. But leaning against a tree seemed to help, and Emma was determined to keep him hydrated and sated with mangoes.

The next few hours were thus spent, Emma tending to him, the occasional contraction and waddling around the camp, Tink and Snow apparently pulling together some supplies for birth, and Regina seemed to be running a constant inspection of whatever spell she’d placed around the border of their clearing—in an attempt to hold back Pan as long as possible, she explained. (She got a very maudlin smile from him at that.)

Much like his last accelerated pregnancy, the moment his belly dropped was visible, though obviously different from that time given the extra passenger he was carrying. David just happened to be watching as it occurred, though, and audibly cringed; Killian’s own groan as all that weight shifted from higher on his frame to right on top of his hips drew everyone else’s attention.

“It’s gotta be soon, then,” Emma estimated, feeling around his stomach to assess the babes’ position.

“Bloody hope so,” he muttered, bracing his hand on his lower back with the shift in his center of gravity. But the practice contractions had been far from consistent yet, so he’d have to wait for that, he supposed.

“At least it won’t be another three-day labor,” Tink offered, trying to lighten the mood, he could tell.

“Aye, and I suppose it’s less intense than 5 minutes,” he agreed.

Emma and Snow exchanged wincing looks of pain. “As if we needed any more convincing that Pan was sadistic,” Snow decided.

If he’d been keeping track right, Killian was finally approaching the 24-hour mark since taking the deal with Pan—one of the longest days of his life (even worse than any spent in labor). It had certainly had its ups and downs, but he just wanted it to be done.

Blessedly, the contractions did start to come a bit more consistently, though he could tell he still had a ways to go. The first sharp one made him hiss, and Emma rushed to his side and began to rub his back and tell him to breathe. He obviously knew what to do at this point, but he appreciated the care. She wasn’t far from him as his labor steadily progressed, but he could tell she was giving him space—which he appreciated.

However, he was the one to reach out for her once his water broke, especially since it was later in his labor than any previous ones. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he could feel the first of the babes settling into birthing position.

“Is it time?” she asked, her voice almost panicked.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, sounding equally shaky. “They’re coming—soon.”

She started to guide him to Snow and David’s tent, which apparently was serving as the delivery room. He only just made it before the strongest contraction yet brought him to his knees.

Briefly, he was worried about propriety as Tink started to help take his pants off (how they even managed to stay on was a mystery), but there was nothing to be done for it. Snow, bless her, at least had managed a blanket to cover him, though he did have to wonder if there was any sense to it.

But then it was time to push, and any other thoughts were forgotten.

Emma was on his right, holding his hand; Tink was on the other side, and both were giving constant encouragement. Snow probably had the worst job of catching the infant (or at least, the most graphic), but she at least didn’t seem to mind. He was vaguely aware of David and Regina standing guard beyond them, but his world narrowed to those immediately around him and his present situation—and breathing and pushing.

And pain—so much pain.

But he wasn’t about to flag now, and kept on, until there was finally relief—and the sound of an infant’s wail.

“It’s a boy!” Snow shouted as she scooped the baby up. “Oh, and he’s perfect!” She brought him up for Killian to see, and oh, she wasn’t wrong; he was crying fiercely and were he not still in the middle of something, he ached to soothe the boy. Immediately, he noticed the odd shape of the little lad’s ears—the same as Killian’s own, heartbreakingly proving his parentage. He reached up for a moment to brush the bit of colorless fuzz on his head, but then another contraction came and he had to bear down once more.

Snow passed the boy off to David and quickly clipped the cord, then got ready for babe number two.

This one was coming much slower than their sibling. “They’re stuck,” he may have complained at one point, but was only met by assurances to the contrary.

He was in the middle of the hardest push yet when Pan arrived.

David’s sword was on their foe near as soon as Pan had uttered a syllable. “Well, what do we have here—wait, what?” He’d started to leer at the baby, until he was distracted by the continued commotion coming from Killian. “I thought I only gave you one; where did that one come from?”

“You, you dumbass!” Regina shouted, but Killian lost track of any further conversation as he made his last few pushes and finally—finally—he was done. The only reason he didn’t collapse backwards was because Emma and Tink were holding him up.

“It’s a girl,” Snow called out, almost reverently, and she passed the babe up to Killian.

“A girl?” he gasped as he took the little lass into his arms. He knew it was a possibility, but suddenly facing the reality was completely different.

Oh, she was beautiful—fussy, but he could tell there was a fierceness about her. She too had his ears, but there was something else familiar in her face, even if it still had that squished quality that many newborns had.

“A girl?” Pan griped, sounding almost disgusted—though it may have had to do with watching Snow cut the second cord. “What am I supposed to do with that? I have no use for a girl.”

“Then can I keep her?” Killian asked without thinking, and rather desperately—which he immediately realized was a mistake.

“Of course not,” Pan practically laughed, and then both babes were instantly transported to his hold.

Everyone around Killian jumped into action, ready to take the babies back, but didn’t get very far before he froze them all in place—all but Killian.

“Please,” he begged, the same as he had each time before, but impossibly more desperately.

“That wasn’t our deal,” Pan reminded him smugly. “So now you have to choose: do you want to know where Baelfire is, or do you want to know the mother of these babes?”

“Both,” he quickly replied, after thinking a moment. “You said one babe for one question, but I just gave you two; I think that entitles me to know both answers.”

Pan glowered, clearly annoyed, but then sighed. “I suppose that’s fair. Baelfire is in the Echo Caves, and the mother is Emma. So good luck with all of that.” And disappeared.

As soon as he was gone, everyone was unfrozen and took a moment to regain their bearings, but Killian simply collapsed and let the heartbreak wash over him.

Tink quickly reminded him he wasn’t quite done, and somehow, she, Emma, and Snow got him through the afterbirth process—but that was all he could handle, and he fell apart in their arms.

Despite his own intense heartbreak, he didn’t miss the tears brimming in Emma’s eyes as well. But he didn’t have the mental wherewithal to dry them.

Not for the first time, he cried himself to sleep after losing his babes. He wasn’t quite sure which blonde head he faintly saw pressing a kiss to his brow as he drifted off, but he thought he smelled Emma’s soap.

Blessedly, his sleep was dreamless; gods only knew what kind of nightmares he’d have had otherwise.

—---------------------------

When he eventually came to, he wasn’t surprised to find that his body was almost back to normal; only a small bit of his postpartum bump remained, and just a few lines showing that he’d carried his babes. He was still sore, but he’d wasted enough time being asleep when he could be out there trying to rescue them.

Someone had put his pants, vest, and jacket next to where he slept, so he quickly dressed and rejoined the group. Regina seemed to have taken over the leadership role for the time being, and Emma quietly sat next to her parents, looking somewhat withdrawn.

He took a seat on her other side and tried to give her an encouraging smile when she looked over at him, but he was sure it was bittersweet at best. Emma did return it, though, and then reached over to squeeze his hand.

They should talk, he knew, but she quickly volunteered to get more firewood with her father, and then he was left alone again. Regina took the opportunity to catch him up on their plan, but where she’d at first been chomping at the bit to dive headlong into rescuing Henry, he now found that he was the impatient one.

“I can worry about saving Bae when I know my babes are out of that demon’s clutches!” he hissed.

“I know how you feel, but consider this: Pan already has one of the Savior’s kids, so there must be a reason he needs another. That’s probably a good thing. So let’s keep moving forward.” He didn’t like it, but her logic was sound.

Later, as he led the way to the Echo Caves, he got that moment alone with Emma he’d been wanting. “How are you doing, love?” he asked quietly; they were ahead of her parents but not by much.

“I should be asking you that,” she deflected. “You’re the one who just delivered twins.”

“Aye, but I’m fairly certain you heard the fact that they’re your twins, too. And I also tend to wear my heart on my sleeve; you don’t as much, though I can tell you’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset! I’m just also…overwhelmed,” she admitted. “I came here to rescue one kid, and now I apparently need to save three. That’s kind of a lot.”

He stopped and reached for Emma’s hand, making her pause as well. “Just worry about Henry. Trust me, I have enough worry about the babes for both of us.”

She gave a half laugh, but nodded. “Easier said than done, though.”

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

They continued on, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “What do you think we should name them?” she asked. “We can’t just keep calling them ‘the twins’ or ‘the babes’,” she went on, mocking his accent.

He hummed. “I honestly haven’t given it much thought; I only got to name a few of the others, and it was never something I considered, knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold onto them. And the only boy-girl twins I can think of that I’ve read about are Artemis and Apollo.”

“That’s a bit much,” Emma commented. “What about…Luke and Leia?”

“I’m not familiar with that pair,” he noted.

She smiled. “You will be.”

He grinned back. “Luke and Leia it is.” They were sweet names, he thought, and just hoped they would get to use them.

————————

They rescued Bae with relative ease, considering the situation. He didn’t seem too happy about the development between Killian and Emma, but eventually accepted it, and helped with their plan to get off the island.

By making a deal with (most of) the Lost Boys, they were able to get to Pan—and most of the boys (including all the ones Killian had birthed) were headed back to Storybrooke with them.

And in the end, Killian, Regina, and Emma were able to rescue all of their kids—Henry and the babies—from Skull Rock, where Pan was attempting to enact his plan.

Few things in Killian’s life had been as satisfying as capturing Pan inside Pandora’s Box, where the demon would hopefully stay for a long, long time.

But it was quickly eclipsed by once again holding his daughter, while Emma held his—no, their—son, and Regina gave Henry a long-overdue embrace.

(Thankfully, Henry took the news of his new siblings in stride.)

And once they were in the ship, flying out of that accursed realm, Killian was finally able to let out a sigh of relief. They did it. They rescued the boy and everyone was returning home relatively unscathed. Hell, they’d been able to save several more, in addition to their newest passengers—who were sleeping in their mother’s arms as he manned the helm.

Bae took over the wheel, and he relieved Emma of one of her charges—Leia, judging by the bow that someone (either Tink or Snow) had put around her head. There was still a lot to figure out once they landed, and he was looking forward to reuniting with the boys he’d carried once everyone got settled in Storybrooke. But for now, there was a peace he hadn’t known in centuries, and he sighed happily as he stood next to Emma.

“What?” she asked, though she was clearly also contented.

“I’m just happy we all made it out,” he said.

She moved closer to him and rested her head on her shoulder. “Me too. But that’s not all, is it?”

“No,” he admitted. “I’m also thrilled that I never have to be pregnant again.”

They shared a quiet laugh, and sailed into their new future—together.

————————————————–

thank you so much for reading! tagging a few: @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @mathiaskejseren @88infinity88 @mischievousgraxaim

#captain pan #cs ff #killian mpreg #you owe me #My ff

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