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scripted-downfall · 2 years

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Shades of Morality

I know that there’s a lot of debate about who was “right” and who was “wrong” in the history between Hook and Rumplestiltskin, and I’ve always found the parallels here fascinating, so I’m going to offer up my two cents and hope it’s not overdone. :) For reference — as promised in my last OUAT post — this will be pulling principally from season 2 episode 4 “The Crocodile” and season 5 episode 14 “Devil’s Due.”

(Let me start by saying that I’m not really going to address the beginning sequence of flashbacks from Devil’s Due — everything we see about Milah and Rumple interacting once he gets home, how they handle Baelfire getting bitten by the snake, etc — because it is very ambiguous. I’m not sure there is a distinct right or wrong up until a very specific point because which of the couple a viewer identifies with is largely dependent on an individual’s personal values and experiences. After that ambiguity disappears, it’s because he decides to sell his wife’s — Milah’s at the time, though, in actuality, Belle’s — reproductive rights without talking to her first. At that point, I disagree with any argument that he was not acting completely and totally in the wrong. And, once that’s done, Milah absolutely has the right to take time and space for herself at the tavern.)

Instead, I’ll start with the first chronological event we see: when Killian and Milah meet in the tavern… and, as far as I can see it, both individuals acted with honor. The first seeds of their relationship are sown when Killian knocks out the guy hitting on her when she didn’t want him to be, when Killian talks about a way out of her provincial life (discussing the spices in the air, etc), when he outright offers her a way out… and yet they’re both bound by their own personal codes of honor. Milah rejects the offer because she has a husband and kid and responsibilities at home, and Killian abides by that because he wouldn’t go against her wishes.

Then we have the scenes in “The Crocodile,” starting out with the scene where Rumple goes with Baelfire to bring Milah back home from the tavern. This scene is a touch complicated, especially since it’s after years of bitterness and the aforementioned deal with the apothecary. On the one hand, there’s the fact that Rumple brings Baelfire to a tavern in order to manipulate his wife into coming back to a life where she does most if not all of the work and where it’s a bit rich for him to be accusing her of forsaking responsibility; on the other hand, she’s intentionally cruel to him and has been out of the house for a while despite having a kid. This goes back to the earlier ambiguity of their day-to-day interactions; there isn’t, for the most part, an outright, objective right or wrong. She returns to the house and promises to give life with Rumple/Bae “a try.”

The next thing we see, a villager tells Rumple that his wife has been taken by “the men who came into port last week” — aka Killian and his crew — and that they’re about to set sail with her. And this… this is the scene that I think is often viewed incorrectly. I know a lot of people who say that this scene is totally rigged against Rumple, that Killian was young and able-bodied while Rumple was neither, that Killian was cruel, etc… and, in some ways, I get it.

I also think, though: that’s the point. The entire encounter is most assuredly a sham. A test.

Mainly, because this entire encounter is completely and totally out of character for Killian. If there’s one thing that can be said for him, it’s that he is absolutely a man of honor. So, why then does he say, “I’ve had many a man’s wife?” We know for a fact — albeit post-episodically — that he doesn’t make a practice of starting affairs with married women; as mentioned above, when we see him meet Milah in “Devil’s Due,” all it takes for him to back off is for her to say she has a husband. The above quote is absolutely not the kind of man he is… but it is the kind of man who might pose a threat to Milah’s safety. Similarly, “I have a ship full of men who need… companionship.” The implication here is something that would never stand on Killian’s ship or in Killian’s presence. The man’s code of honor is inherent to his personality — “good form,” etc — so the fact that there’s something clearly dishonorable being alleged here is important.

So I take the “it was cruel and mean and how dare he” argument and put forth a new one in its place: “it was harsh and effective.” Milah said she’d give life with Rumple a try, but the main hurdle they had to overcome was his cowardice; she resented being lashed to the village coward, and (judging by the look of sheer surprise when Killian stood up for her in the tavern) hadn’t really had someone fight for her before. This is also supported by the ending line of that scene; Killian’s scornful of Rumple because he’s a coward, because he wouldn’t fight for his wife. (And there wasn’t really substantial proof that the duel would be to the death; Killian said Rumple had to fight for her, not that he had to win or kill Killian or any of the above.) This was a trial by fire to test Rumple’s valor when it came to Milah, and he was willing to walk away with the belief that he was leaving his wife to be served as a favor to a group of pirates.

Now we fast forward. Rumple is the Dark One; he’s found Killian again; and he purposefully bumps into Killian to provoke him. To be honest, it’s true; Killian was a bit of a dick here. He’s working off a code — his basic understanding of what manners should be — but he’s still intoxicated to some degree and definitely jerkish.

Then Rumple reveals himself and asks about Milah before then challenging Killian to a duel… and this is the part that really, to me, settles who is “right” and who is “wrong.” Because, in essence, Rumple gives Killian the same exact deal — if not a little harsher — than the one Killian had given him, all those years ago. He requests a duel, though this one is pretty clearly to the death. There is a power imbalance; Rumple is the bloody Dark One, complete with immortality and magic, while Killian is just a pirate with a cutlass. There is something at stake if he doesn’t do the fight, but it’s not something intrinsic to his person; in other words, Rumple threatens not Killian’s life but his crew’s lives, similar to the way Killian seemed to be threatening Milah’s wellbeing and not Rumple’s if he didn’t duel. (This is very important because it means that, if the person being challenged decides to duel, they are taking on personal risk for someone else’s benefit instead of taking on personal risk to avoid personal risk; it’s a selfless decision to duel, whereas the alternative would be more selfish.)

Anyway, it’s the same duel. (Or, I should say, it’s at least the same duel… I maintain that the power imbalance between immortal magic user and mortal swordsman is a touch more extensive than the imbalance between mortal pirate swordsman and mortal-but-injured trained soldier… And also, there’s the fact that Killian already put himself at risk to protect Milah by telling Rumple that she was dead… Oh, and also the fact that Rumple put in the caveat that Killian had to sit an entire night preparing to die with the ability to run right in front of him even as he didn’t run to protect his crew/Milah… yeah, it was at least the same duel.)

And yet Killian showed up for it. He showed up with his cutlass exactly at dawn, ready to die to protect Milah/his crew the way Rumple hadn’t been willing to fight for Milah so many years before. He actually follows through on fighting. He loses — although, I will point out, that Rumple betrayed any semblance of a code of honor and used magic in the duel, which is (to coin a phrase) bad form — and prepares to die easily, willingly. And this, people… this is the difference between Killian and Rumple. When put in the same position — the same trial by fire — Killian passes the test that Rumple failed.

Thus, is it any wonder that Milah goes to get Hook? She puts her own life on the line to confront her ex-husband and save her new lover. He fought for her, and she fights for him. She’s clever about it, finding just the piece of leverage that might get through to Rumple and using it, and all because she’s found someone to fight for her.

I also feel like it’s necessary to point out that, when they get back to the Jolly Roger, the crew treats her as a second captain. They respond to her orders and follow what she says. She’s not, as they implied to Rumple, a party favor that they passed around, and nor is she some mere component of Killian (i.e. they don’t treat her like “the captain’s mistress” but as her own person, and someone who’s definitely in some degree of command). What I mean by this is that the way we see the crew interacting with her further invalidates the earlier encounter between Killian and Rumple unless it were a test set up by Milah and Killian to test Rumple’s mettle.

And then, of course, there’s the fatal scene, and I feel like I’d be hard-pressed to find someone who thinks that Rumple acted appropriately. (tbh, I’d be very worried if I found someone who did, because… murder? Really? Seriously, folks, feel free to reach out to me with explanations for how Rumple was right in the killing-Milah scene because I don’t understand and am curious if anyone has any logic to provide whatsoever.) This scene is, to me, one of the best at summing up Rumple’s character flaws, if I’m being honest. His anger at her for leaving Bae is, yes, partly at her, but it’s also in large part him projecting onto her because he left Baelfire, far more permanently. He continues to not see things from other peoples’ points of view; he didn’t get how Milah was so miserable with him when she was doing all the housework and childcare while also being married to one of the town’s outcasts and getting no help from him. His anger issues, because he can’t take hearing that she didn’t love him without deciding she deserved to die. And his cowardice, hiding behind magic, because — even with immortality and everything else — he needs his powers to restrain Killian long enough to kill her. This is probably not a very persuasive paragraph in terms of the thesis idea of Killian vs. Rumple, but that’s largely because I’m very confused as to how anyone supports Rumple’s position here, so I can’t foresee which counterarguments to provide.

Before I conclude, I do want to address one slightly-off-topic thing… Milah. I will confess that I have serious personal qualms with her leaving her son behind to set sail, but I also very much disagree with the people who dismiss her as being heartless or careless there. Do I think she was right to leave Bae behind, to leave him with Rumple as a father? No. But. She wasn’t thoughtless. She wasn’t careless. We find out through Killian at some point that the two of them had carried on long conversations about bringing Bae, that both had felt guilty for abandoning him, and that both were worried about the environment that a pirate ship might provide for a child. We also find out that they’d planned on going back for him at some point. I think this is another instance in the show of a mother trying to do what’s best for her child; I just also think that Milah made the wrong choice.

However, I also vastly believe that the family unit of Rumple, Milah, and Baelfire was unhealthy and should not have persisted. It was a relationship built on years of bitterness culminating in Rumple making a decision to sell their future, and it was deleterious to everybody involved. I cannot believe that Bae would have had a substantially better life if Milah had stuck around than the way it ended up happening.

And also, it’s just important to notice how much Milah thrived away from Rumple. (Because it’s not her being away from Bae; she’s consistently feeling guilty about that, and he continues to be her unfinished business after she dies.) Not only does she get to leave the life she hated, doing all the work in a small town where everyone hated her husband and pitied her, and get to go on a life of adventure to different worlds… Not only does she get respect and an actual, healthy family in Killian and his crew… But the sheer amount of meta analysis that could be done on her clothing as compared to her mental state?? Massive. I mean, she goes from drab peasant in rags and worn out clothing to a pirate queen, with bright colors, beaded shirts, and brocade.

So, long story short; I think that Killian — and, to a slightly lesser degree (principally because of leaving Bae, even though, as I said, I think she was just a flawed person doing her best in a shitty situation), Milah — were worlds more justified in all of their actions than Rumple was. I think that, if we’re talking right or wrong, neither Killian nor Rumple were 100% right or 100% wrong. I also think that Killian was more right.

Whoo, that was a long one. I’m slightly dying because I now have no clue if any of this is coherent or makes sense. I’m also fairly certain I didn’t get to say some stuff I wanted to say… oh, well, guess that’s what future posts are for :) Thanks for sticking with me!

#once upon a time #ouat #captain hook #killian jones #milah #ouat milah #millian #rumplestiltskin #character analysis #analysis #2x4 #the crocodile #2x4 the crocodile #5x14 #devil's due #5x14 devil's due

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 1 year

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Hi! I am a HUGE Captain Swan fan! What are the main reasons why you love Captain Swan/Hook?

Hi there! You've asked a question I could probably write an entire dissertation about, but it can all be summed up in one single quote:

* added by @delenasalvatore Source: tumblr, via outlinedsilver

They are very much alike in the traumas they experienced when they were younger and the way it ultimately affected them. Granted, they chose very different paths, and they lived in very different times and places, but fundamentally they are the same and can relate to each other.

Because of this, they can and do accept each other for who they are--faults and all. Of course, love does not want the other to be mired in their past unhealthy (or unethical) ways of dealing with the issues in their lives, and Emma and Killian call each other out when needed.

Another thing I love about Captain Swan is the utter and complete devotion they have to each other. We see this most obviously in Killian in the early seasons. I mean, the guy spent two centuries trying to avenge the death of his first love. We know that when he loves, he LOVES. He's all in. Even before he'd decided to turn his life around, before he'd recognized or acknowledged how far gone he was for Emma, he chose to go to Neverland for her. And who could forget this moment:

*Made by @hook-and-hope

Killian was willing to give up his ship--his home, his last connection to both Milah and Liam--in order to save Emma, when he knew she wouldn't even remember him and couldn't be sure she returned his affections even if she did.

In those early seasons, of course, Emma's walls were up. She'd been hurt so much before (stupid Neal!) that it was hard for her to trust that his love for her was genuine--and even more, that it would last. This was as much a reflection on her view of herself and how she saw herself as unworthy of lasting love as it was on Killian.

Fortunately, Killian understands her walls and is more than willing to slowly, patiently pull them down.

But Killian is not the only one who is devoted to the other. Even during the Neverland arc when Emma was so very closed off, it was clear that she saw Killian as someone she could turn to, someone whose opinion and whose judgement she valued and sought out. Don't forget how it was that she found the magic to light the candle in Dark Hollow: It was her fear for Killian and what the shadow was doing to him.

And we haven't even got to the most significant moments yet. What other fandom can say one member of their OTP overcame the greatest darkness in all the realms and died for the other...

...and then the one who was died for literally went to hell to save him?

I mean, come on! That is next level epic!

In the end, Captain Swan was not some destined fairy tale couple, although they did get a pretty fairy tale wedding--complete with singing and dancing!

--They were a real couple who struggled and had their off moments (writers, I'm looking at you for the absolutely unnecessary and stupid drama for drama's sake storylines of season 6), but as Killian told David:

*Made by @shipsxahoy.

In the end, doesn't that really say it all?

(And on a more superficial level, it certainly didn't hurt that Jen's and Colin's chemistry was absolutely off the charts!)

*Note: The gifs used in this meta are not my own. Most of them were found through a simple Google search, and I was able to track down the origins of most of them. If your gif was used and I didn’t give you attribution, please let me know so I can change that.

#captain swan meta #emma swan #killian jones

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heddagab · 2 years

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7, 12, 16, and 25 for the ouat ask game!

Hey, thanks for the ask!

7. Character you'd love to punch in the face

Oh boy. Well, that's a group project so Milah, Hook, Robin, Belle.

Hook and Milah are on a similar boat, as are Robin and Belle on different one. The difference is that the first two were presented as shitty people from the get go but got somewhat woobified by the writers later on while the other two were presented as almost perfect in their introductory episodes and slowly but surely ended up being shitty people without that fact being recognized by the writers, ending up in pure hypocrisy.

Milah and Hook bullying a disabled person who never harmed them will never sit well with me and on top of that Hook trully is a f*ck boi and we all know that his story wasn't organically changed so it genuinely does not count in my eyes, he'll always be an ass.

Robin is the character equivalent of "stay away from her, get a job". I trully despise his mere existence in the show, he should have never even been a part of it in the first place, especially by being connected to Regina in any way. A liar and a covert f*ck boi of his own which never even gets addressed and that's what's pissing me off with him and Belle as well, their awful behaviors always being swept under the rug.

Belle on the other hand could have been an absolute legend of a character if she actually, you know, was written as a character and not Rumple's shitty love interest. The way she absolutely didn't have a life of her own but her only purpose in the narrative was to change Rumple, blame him for everything, vilify him and emotionaly manipulate him by taking advantage of his self loathing tendencies under the disguise of "love", makes her an unsung villain in my eyes and I wish we were spared from that charade long ago. If you can't introduce Belle as a main character with her own story and you also can't write her as Rumple's love interest because her characterisation trully clashes with what Rumple's love interest is supposed to be, then don't write her at all ffs. On one hand she deserved better (by being the protagonist of her own story) but on the other hand I also deserved better (by not seeing her current canon bullshit and having my favorite character destroyed by her. Quite literally in the end, I haven't even touched the despicable s7 suicide plot. Like, f the writers and f her, that's my sentiment.)

12. A line/quote that you connected with the first time you heard it

Honestly all the lines I love are from s1 or s2 and that says a lot. When Regina said "I just wanted to win, for once" or "She makes me angry all the time, it's exhausting". When Rumple asked for "money... comfort..." in 1x02, especially considering his tone and then his backstory. Poverty gives a certain tone of bitterness and pain that's very distinct and hits you like a train.

16. Favorite moment between a platonic pairing

I'll go with Snow and Regina (the canon interpretation, don't @ me) and every single time they have a friendly snark moment between a heart to heart. Those little moments highlight so much their deep seated connection that it's endearing and funny. They have this familiarity that can be found in best friends and it's just beautiful to watch.

25. If you could give a message to any one character, what would you say?

Assuming I was a character in the show that he actually would listen, I'd tell Rumple not to let his idealized version of Belle and his vilified version of himself in his mind get a hold of him. Things are not as black and white and he doesn't deserve to be treated badly in a relationship nor being emotionally manipulated and blamed for everything. He doesn't deserve everything bad that's happened to him and the right person will love him for himself even if they have disagreements and they won't try to change him. The right person will have compassion above all, especially for his traumas and his fears over who he'd be without the Dark One if that ever happened, not holding a hero complex projector onto him. I'd tell him to remember to be just a little bit kinder to himself, even a tiny bit. (And basically open his eyes and realise that Regina trully loves him but that's a bonus)

#replies #anti hook #anti milah #anti robin hood #anti oq #anti rumbelle

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justmilah · 4 years

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MUSE’S HANDWRITING ! go ( here ) & pick out a font which resembles your muse’s handwriting the closest.

Tagged by: @pueraeternuspan Tagging: @afaroffadventure @darkerdeariegold @ltbroccoli @auntiezelda

#answered meme #the quote is from Inkheart #but it feels very Milah

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

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The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1

Or on FF

Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

Summary:

When Emma Swan’s boss & co-workers decided they are tired of waiting for her to start dating again, they reluctantly convince her to join them on The Love Cruise, a new experience where singles go to meet and flirt their cares away in the middle of the ocean. Dragging her brother, David along for the ride, she embarked on a two-week adventure that was about to change her life.

Killian Jones, former Navy Lieutenant and widower, swore off dating for the rest of his life. Which is why when his best friend Robin convinced him to take a job as the Captain of the newest ship in the fleet, a floating dating cesspool of horny men and women, it seemed a cruel twist of fate. Little did he know, one of the guests about to board his ship, would alter his own course in life forever.

Chapter 1: The Adventure of a Lifetime

“First he runs off and gets married and then he goes and gets himself a promotion. I guess you would say the world is his oyster.”

“Or he’s having his cake and eating it to.” The man at the back of the bar shouts.

“Aye, so today as we celebrate, I want everyone to raise your glass to our newest Lieutenant, and my little brother, Killian Jones. I’m so proud of you.”

“To Killian Jones.” The crowd roared.

5 years later

“That’s not how I remember it at all, I’m pretty sure you were the one who walked in on them.”

“I would have remembered that.”

“I doubt that, you were drunk as a skunk and before you left the room, you yelled to the poor girl, and I quote, I'm no weatherman but I know you're going to get 3 inches tonight.”

“God, I thought you said that.”

“That was all you man, I thought the Captain was gonna throw you in the brig.”

“I’m pretty sure Liam saved my ass that night.” Killian laughed, remembering how many times his brother kept him out of trouble in his years in the Navy.

“I think Liam saved your ass most nights.”

“Aye.” He nodded sadly and Robin held up his glass.

“To Liam, gone too soon.”

“To Liam.” He swallowed the warm liquid, gulping it down and putting his glass back on the table in front of him. “I can’t believe it’s been two years.” He added solemnly, memories of his brother’s urn as he was released out to sea, being presented with the flag, the sound of each pop of the as the rifles went off, staring out to sea to the sound of the bugle.

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday.” Robin responded and Killian closed his eyes, pinched his nose, before shaking off the memories and waiving the waitress over for another order. “So, what’s your next move?”

Killian sighed. “I don’t know yet, I’ve got a few interviews this week.”

Robin cut him off, “Cancel them.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to cancel all my interviews?”

“Yes, cancel them, I have a great opportunity for both of us.”

“Working together?”

“Yes, I told you that I got a job last week, right? Well, they need a Captain and I put in a good word for you.” Killian knew he had gotten some amazing opportunity the last time they spoke on the phone, but he didn’t provide many details on what exactly that opportunity was.

“What’s the catch?” Killian regarded him suspiciously.

“Why does there have to be a catch?” He smiled innocently.

“Because you would have told me about it sooner unless you’ve been trying to figure out the best way to bring it up. And you conveniently chose a night when we have been drinking heavily, so that tells me there is a catch, Rob. So, spit it out.”

“Ok, so there’s a catch, but hear me out first.” Killian groaned but put his hand to his lips with a locking motion and gestured for him to continue. “She’s the newest ship in the fleet, top of the line technology, she would be any Captain’s wet dream to sail.” Killian chuckled, sitting up on his stool. “3600 passengers, 1300 crew members, including the best purser any ship could ask for.” He grinned widely pointing to himself.

“Get to the part where you tell me this ship sails to the Underworld and has an excursion to visit Hades himself or some other ungodly reason to explain why you waited til I was piss drunk to ask me.”

“Ok, but I haven’t even told you about the size of the Captain’s quarters yet…” Robin frowned as he shifted impatiently in his seat. “Alright, it’s the maiden voyage of…” He covered his mouth, “The wurv ruse.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Fine, it’s a Love Cruise.” He shouted louder than he meant to. “One of those singles cruises where people go to meet each other.”

He tossed a brochure down onto the table and Killian flipped through it, his groan vibrating as he read the tag line out loud. “The Love Cruise, where singles meet on the adventure of a lifetime. Don’t you deserve a little TLC.” He tossed the brochure onto the table. “Oh, bloody hell.” He cursed. “Ma’am…” He gestured for the waitress. “I’m not fucking drunk enough to listen to this man anymore, if you could please bring a few more of those shots as quick as possible and make them doubles.” He added before turning back to Robin. “Are you out of your mind? What would give you the foggiest reason to think I would be interested in this?”

“It’s not like you would be signing up to be part of the singles cruise, you would just Captain her.”

“Why are you doing this?” He asked suspiciously. “You and Marian have been divorced for years and it’s not like you’re desperate for women.” His friend glanced to the table and Killian knew there was more he wasn’t telling him. “Out with it.”

“You know that woman I met last year?”

Killian chuckled, “How long do I have to answer, mate. You’re going to have to be more specific than that?”

“You’re hilarious. No, remember that entertainer I met when we took that cruise to Mexico last year, Regina Mills.”

“The lass we met who threw her drink in your face and told you to get lost? How can I forget, she’s given me months of pleasure just thinking about that moment.”

“Anyway, they hired her as the Cruise Director for this sailing, and it’s my opportunity to actually get to know her. You know because she won’t have anywhere else to go to continue avoiding me.”

“So, your selling point is that if I Captain this ship, I might get to see this woman destroy you on a daily basis?”

“Would it convince you to say yes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Killian it’s been three years. If you want to be celibate for the rest of your life, that’s your business, but you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket and slid it across the table. On it was a six-figure dollar amount, Killian grabbed the paper and pulled it closer to his face.

“How many years is the contract for this amount?”

“That’s per year, Killian.”

“Bloody hell.”

“It’s a lot more than the Navy paid us, and no one is going to be trying to sink our ship.”

He pushed the paper back across the table to Robin. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea, I have responsibilities here.”

“Brother, Milah wouldn’t want you hiding out on that damn houseboat, rotting away in your own depression. She’d kick you in the ass and tell you that you were being a bloody prat for walking away from this kind of opportunity.”

“Don’t invoke my dead wife, Mate.” He said angrily. Robin raised his hands in defeat and Killian knew he meant no harm. He sighed and looked over at the paper again. It was more money than he had seen in his entire life, and it was a real ship. He’d been working as Skipper on a fishing skiff for the last year, and while he enjoyed the security of being out on the water, it sure didn’t pay much.

“You know there’s no rule that says the Captain has to date the passengers, in fact, I’m pretty sure they frown on that type of behavior?”

“I get that, but I don’t particularly want to watch all the debauchery either.”

“I told you the Captain’s quarters are huge, right?”

“And they know about my hand?” He looked down at his scarred hand, he had lost the full use of it on one of the worst nights of his life, the night he lost his brother.

“They don’t care, you are a skilled Captain, trust me, they are very interested in you, Killian. All you have to do is be at the interview tomorrow, and the job is yours.”

Killian groaned, “I’ll sleep on it.” Judging by the smile his friend was displaying on the other end of the table, he already knew that Killian was going to show up to that interview.

~*~

“Have you seen that guy before?” Ruby walked over to Emma’s spot by the front door.

Emma glanced to the end of the bar. She hadn’t noticed the man until Ruby pointed him out. He wasn’t familiar to her, he was very nice looking, but also very intoxicated. “Don’t recognize him, but Will needs to cut him off.”

“That’s what you’re focused on, instead of how hot he is or the fact he’s new in town?”

“He’s ok, I guess. But honestly, I’m going to go tell Will to stop serving him. I don’t want to have to throw him out later.”

“Boo, you’re so boring, Emma.”

Emma turned and flashed her friend the middle finger before approaching the bar. “Hey, brown suede jacket.” She pointed to the man at the end of the bar. “How many has he had?”

“Oi, I was thinking of cutting him off. He’s been nursing that beer for an hour, but the three shots he drank with them seem to have accelerated his inebriation.”

“Yeah, cut him off, he’s swaying in his seat, let me know if he gives you any trouble.”

Emma walked back toward the door, surveying the tables as she walked past. She’d been working at The Wooden Nickle since moving back to Boston from New York almost seven years ago. Working nights as a bouncer wasn’t the most prestigious job in the world, but it allowed her to spend her days with her 6-year-old son, Henry.

“Everything good down here?”

Emma turned to see her boss; August Booth walking down the stairs from the above office. “Yeah, got a live one at the bar, Will’s already cut him off. I had to break up the two over at the pool table a few times.” She gestured to the man and woman currently making out against the wall. “I’m gonna head back there in a minute, before they start losing clothes.”

“I can always count on you, Emma.” August gave her a light tap on the shoulder and then headed back upstairs. “Tell everyone I want to talk to them before we shut down tonight.”

“Everything alright, boss?” He nodded with a mischievous smile and then bounded up the stairs.

She loved working for August. When she moved back to Boston, she hadn’t maintained a relationship with anyone except her brother, David, and her high school friends, Ruby and Will. Moving to a small town meant her skills as a bail bond agent wasn’t exactly needed, but August found room for her as a bouncer at his tiny but very busy bar. He’d treated her like family ever since.

She passed through the room, pausing at the couple in the back, to break up their make out session and then stopped at the bar. “Aug wants to talk to all of us after we close up.”

“Oi, did he seem upset? Shit, I bet he knows I was nipping at the whiskey last week.”

“What are we talking about?” Ruby approached and sat down her tray on the bar top. “Are we drinking whiskey?”

Emma laughed. “Aug wants to talk to all of us tonight, so I would probably say no, right?”

“That was a question, not a demand, so I say one shot can’t hurt us. If we’re all about to be canned, I want to take the news with some liquid courage.”

“You’ll use any excuse to drink whiskey.” Ruby mocked as he lined up the shots and poured. They each tossed back the glass and slammed it down on the bar.

“Ok get back to work.” She demanded with a smirk and headed back to the door to prepare for the close of shift. It was her favorite part of work, watching as the patrons exited the bar, some joyfully laughing, others grumbling with complaints of the upcoming next day, but mostly it was the time when they were alone, simply cleaning the bar and laughing together that she cherished the most. This was her family, and she loved them dearly.

“All clear.” She hollered an hour later as she finished helping the tipsy customer to a cab and reminded the overly zealous couple to remember condoms.

Ruby turned up the volume on the music and they spent the next hour cleaning the bar, Ruby dancing with her broomstick, Will singing loudly into the beer tap, and Emma watching them all with a smile as she wiped down the tables. She could hardly believe how much her life had changed in the last seven years. Ruby referred to these last few years as the years AN.

After Neal.

She had been devastated when Neal took off, draining their savings account of the money she had earned, leaving her alone and pregnant in New York City. Two months later, she came home with her tail between her legs, everything she owned in her tiny yellow beetle, and was left to explain to her brother David, that things with her and Neal had gone exactly how he had predicted they would.

She had been mortified to venture out of the home she shared with David for fear of judgement from their small town. Instead, she was embraced by old friends who came out of the woodwork to donate baby clothes, feed her, and offer emotional support.

“When did I start paying you lot to have a good time?” August boomed from across the room before breaking out into a smile and pulling Emma into his arms to dance across the room. He spun her around as they reached Ruby, switching to dance with the brunette until the song ended.

“The place looks great as usual.” He remarked to the three of them as he hopped onto one of the bar stools. “Come on, lets all chat.” Will gulped and August laughed. “This isn’t about the whiskey, Will.”

“What whiskey?” Will mimed. “I haven’t the foggiest idea…”

“I’m closing the bar.” Emma’s heart dropped. August sat solemnly looking down at his hands. He looked up peering around the room as a smile grew on his mouth. “For two weeks,” he added, “and before you all freak out on me, I’m still paying you.”

Emma breathed out a sigh of relief. Losing two weeks of pay would have killed her. She lived paycheck to paycheck trying to raise her son, missing a single day was enough to give her anxiety.

“On one condition.” He added and everyone in the group exchanged cautious glances. “We’ve all been working really hard and I wouldn’t have any of this if you all didn’t come to work every single day, even with William drinking my whiskey.” Will ducked his head. “However as much as I love you guys, I’m really tired of being alone.”

Emma was surprised to hear how sad August’s voice sounded; she knew he had been alone at home after his father Marco had passed. Emma had never heard of August going on any dates, or ever being involved with anyone romantically. But Emma wasn’t one to talk about putting yourself out there, she hadn’t dated or wanted to date anyone since Neal ran out on her.

“And let’s be honest,” August continued, “you lot don’t get out much either.”

“Hey, I’m just waiting until Ana comes around.” Will argued and she snorted to herself. Ana was Will’s ex-girlfriend. She had packed up and left town a year ago, leaving only a note stating it was over and she was moving to England with a guy she met online. Everyone knew it was over, except for Will. He still had his Facebook relationship status as “It’s complicated.”

“She’s gone man, it’s time to move on.” August said seriously. “And Ruby, I mean no offense when I say this, but you’ve practically dated everyone in town, present company excluded.”

“Speak for yourself, we went on a date once.” Will announced.

“That was a field trip you idiot, and the rest of the school was with us.”

“Ok but my point is, no one in town has been worthy of your affection.” August interrupted and then turned to her, “And Emma.”

“Don’t even go there, I have a six-year-old kid, I don’t have time for another child in my life.”

“Well, here it is, I’m going on a cruise for two weeks. And I’m willing to pay you each your two-week salary, as long as you come with me.”

“Oi, do you think you pay us enough money to afford to go on some fancy cruise ship?”

“Nope, that’s why I’m paying for that too.” He stared at Emma. “But it has to be all or nothing. Either you all come, or you all get a two-week unpaid vacation.”

“That’s hardly fair.” Emma complained. “I can’t just walk away for two weeks, Henry needs me.”

“First off, I already know that he’s about to head to summer camp for four weeks, so your excuse doesn’t exactly work.” Emma crossed her arms against her chest, she hadn’t expected him to know about that. “Ok, one excuse down, who’s next?”

“You aren’t going to get one from me. If you want to pay me to go on a cruise, I’m down.” Ruby hopped up on the bar.

“What’s the catch, Mate? Two weeks pay, a cruise vacation, something’s not adding up here.” Emma had to agree with Will, he wasn’t telling them the entire truth.

“Fine, it’s a singles cruise.”

“No way, I’m out.” Emma grunted, as she furiously wiped down the table in front of her for the second time that evening.

“Oh, come on Emma, who cares? There is nothing that says you have to hook up with anyone there.” Ruby pleaded, “I really want to try out my new bikini I bought last week. It would look so much better on a cruise ship than it would on our stupid beach.”

“I can’t go on a single’s cruise, I’m not single.” Will argued.

“She dumped you.” The three of them all shouted in unison.

“Come on you guys, we can all be there together, and just have fun.” Ruby continued to plead her case.

“Did I mention the alcohol is all paid for up front?” August announced with a wink.

“Bloody hell, I’m in.”

Suddenly all eyes were on here. “Please Emma.” Ruby whined.

“Free Alcohol, lass. We can just sit at the damn bar and drink all day. I’ll be your date.” Will flirted from the back of the bar.

“Brining a date would defeat the singles part, don’t you think?”

“Emma, you’re out of excuses.” August shrugged.

“Fine. But I have one condition.” She said angrily, coming up with a fool proof plan to get out of going. “If I’m going to be forced to go on this trip, then I’m not going without David.”

August laughed and surprisingly shook his head. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Dammit.

#TLC #The love cruise #stacy's fics #my fic #captainswan #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #emma x killian #killian jones #emma x hook #emma swan

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jrob64 · 4 years

Text

Devastation and Healing (Chapter 12)

Sergeant Killian Jones has had more than his share of tragedy in his life. When he’s injured in an IED explosion, he’s assigned to a physical therapist named Emma Swan. While she tries to help him heal physically, can they help each other heal emotionally?

Rating: T

Part 13/?

Chapter Summary: New beginnings...and endings?

Thanks as always to @hookedmom for being such a prompt & helpful beta, @captainsjedi for being so generous with her creativity, and @kymbersmith-90, @xsajx & @kmomof4 for being such great cheerleaders for me.

The entire story is on Tumblr: Prologue / Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11

And on Ao3 or ffn

*********

“Congratulations, Killian.”

Emma saw his eyes go wide and his jaw clench before he spun around to face the person who had spoken.

“What are you doing here, Milah?”

Milah?

Emma’s mind was racing. What the hell? How could she show up here to watch Killian get a medal for being injured, when she’d left him because he was ‘damaged’? She glanced over at Mary Margaret and David, who had confused looks on their faces as they looked between Killian and the dark-haired woman in front of him.

Then she turned to look at Killian. He was clenching his jaw so tightly that a vein was popping out on his forehead, and the cords stood out in his neck.

He repeated his question with anger lacing every word. “I said, what are you doing here?”

The woman either didn’t register his tone of voice, or she was completely ignoring it.

“I wanted to be here for your special day, Sweetheart,” she purred.

“You weren’t invited! And why would you want to be here anyway? You certainly made it clear three months ago that you wanted nothing to do with me!”

Milah’s sickly sweet smile waivered just a bit. “Oh, Killian, I was in shock! The man that I love had just been gravely injured. I couldn’t register what was happening, and I…”

“That’s enough, Milah!” Killian shouted. He looked around and realized that some of the other people who had been there for the ceremony were watching, so he lowered his voice to a menacing tone. “Leave! Now! I’ve moved on and I don’t ever want to see you again! Do I make myself clear?”

“But Darling…”

“You heard the man, you pathetic excuse for a human being!” Will Scarlett sneered. Emma hadn’t even seen him approach. “I heard what you said to him in the hospital, and you should be ashamed to even show your face around here. He’s far better off without you!”

Emma watched as Milah looked at the group of people gathered around her. She seemed to be searching for someone who would sympathize with her, but all she saw was anger and disbelief on every face.

Tentatively, Emma put her hand on Killian’s back to let him know that she was there for him. He reached behind himself, searching for her other hand, which she slid into his, squeezing it tightly.

Milah noticed the action. She pulled herself up haughtily and squared her shoulders.

“Is this who you’ve ‘moved on’ with?” she snarled, curling her fingers into air quotes.

“Nothing about my life is any of your business anymore! I don’t owe you an explanation for anything!” Killian stared at her until Milah finally broke eye contact with him.

Emma could see tears forming in the other woman’s eyes. She wondered if they were sincere, or if they were being generated for dramatic effect. “I still love you, Killian, and I know that you love me,” she announced. “You’re going to find out that what we had isn’t going to be easy to replace.”

“You never loved me, Milah,” he answered, and Emma could hear a trace of heartache in his voice. “If you had, you would’ve never treated me the way you did.”

“Oh Killian, please! I’m sorry! Don’t send me away!” Milah sobbed, though Emma could see now that she was clearly forcing the emotion.

“You found it very easy to dismiss me. It’s time for you to go.”

Milah glanced around once more at the group of people surrounding Killian, and seemed to decide that this was a battle she wasn’t going to win. She hesitated before stepping forward with her hand outstretched, reaching to touch his medal. Killian raised his left arm to deflect her just before she made contact. When she saw the hook at the end of his arm, she flinched and pulled back, while a look of revulsion flashed across her face.

“You’ll never change, Milah. All you want is the glory of being with a military man, but guess what? I’m not that man anymore.”

He turned away from her, into the waiting arms of Emma.

Before she could wrap her arms around him, Emma heard Milah hiss at her, “This isn’t over! He’s mine!” Then she finally spun on her heel and stormed out of the building.

*********

Killian couldn’t believe what had just happened. Having Milah show up at this ceremony was the last thing he expected, but he probably shouldn’t have been surprised. She was always in the front row soaking up the limelight whenever he received any kind of recognition, and she made a point of showing him off any time she had the chance.

He was furious when he heard her call him ‘Sweetheart’ and ‘Darling’, and when she tried to explain away why she’d left him broken-hearted in the hospital. Then Will let her know exactly what he thought of her, which proved to Killian that he had friends who were there for him.

And when he felt Emma’s comforting hand on his back, it had given him the strength he needed to ensure that Milah wouldn’t sweet-talk her way back into his life. Emma’s hand in his was the calming force amid the roiling sea of emotion that he found himself in.

Of course Milah wouldn’t go quietly. She had to cast doubt on any new relationship that he might have, then showed her true colors by trying to touch his Purple Heart. He was positive that the chance to admire his medal was the only reason why she’d had the nerve to show her face at the ceremony. Her reaction to his prosthesis further proved that she hadn’t changed one bit.

When he uttered what he hoped were the last words that he’d ever have to say to her, he felt completely wrung out, so turning and finding himself in Emma’s arms was exactly what he needed. He clung to her as he felt her arms wrap around him, anchoring him and comforting him in a way that he was sure no one else could have at that moment. Her reassurances that it was okay and that she was there for him soothed him, and he drank in her scent to get rid of the stench of betrayal with which Milah had filled him.

*********

David turned to Will. “You were right. She is a piece of work, isn’t she?”

Will rolled his eyes and nodded. “She’s the same as she always was, coming in here and trying to steal the spotlight.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t get the opportunity to scratch her eyes out!” Mary Margaret spat, causing both men to raise their eyebrows in surprise. Then she added, in her usual sweet voice, “I’m going to go make sure that Killian is okay.”

“I’ll come with you,” her husband said, putting his hand on the small of her back.

Emma and Killian were sitting down talking quietly. Mary Margaret took a seat on the other side of him.

He turned and looked at his two friends. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Killian, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” Mary Margaret reassured him. “I’m just so sorry that she showed up here, but please don’t let it ruin your day. David and I would like for the two of you to go out to eat with us as a nice ending to the day, and to celebrate this next chapter in your life.”

“That’s not necess…” he started to say, but Emma interrupted, “That sounds like a great idea! You really do have a lot to look forward to with this new beginning, Killian. There’s also the fact that you finished Occupational Therapy with Ruby. Not having to put up with her anymore is more than reason enough!”

Her statement had the desired response of making him laugh. “Alright, you win.” He turned to Mary Margaret. “Thanks, I’d really like that.”

Just then, Neal’s parents approached, and Emma stood to greet them. She gave them each a hug.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said.

“We’re happy to see you too, Dr. Swan. I take it that you weren’t here just to honor Neal,” his mother said, glancing toward Killian, who was now chatting with David and Mary Margaret.

“No I...Killian asked me to come. He came to me for physical therapy for a couple of months, and we became, um, friends.” She could feel the heat in her cheeks.

The parents looked at each other before Mr. Cassidy replied, “We think that’s wonderful. Our son had a very high opinion of Sergeant Jones.”

Emma exhaled a breath she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding. “Thank you. Oh, and congratulations on Neal being honored with the Silver Star.”

His mother smiled slightly. “Thank you. Well, we won’t keep you, Dr. Swan.”

“Please, call me Emma. It was very nice to see you. Take care of yourselves.”

“You too, Emma,” Neal’s father said, then he and his wife turned to walk toward the exit.

She watched them go, smiling sadly, then finally went back over to her friends. “Ready to go?” she asked, holding out her hand to Killian.

*********

They let Mary Margaret choose the restaurant, since she had some issues with heartburn if she ate the wrong thing, and she selected one that served a wide variety of comfort foods. Emma kept trying to engage Killian in conversation as she rode along with him in his truck, but he just uttered short, vague answers to her questions. She knew that he was probably still thinking about his confrontation with Milah, and she was hoping that when they were all together at the restaurant, it would help him to push it from his mind.

When they arrived, the hostess showed them to their seats and left quickly, only to return with the manager who welcomed them warmly, and informed Killian that there would be no charge for his meal, in appreciation for his service to the country.

Killian thanked the man with a smile, but Emma noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. David and Mary Margaret were busy discussing the items on the menu, so Emma put her hand on Killian’s arm.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You might have forgotten what I told you quite a while ago, so let me remind you. I’m pretty good at knowing when someone isn’t telling me the truth.”

He sighed. “It’s just...” he looked over at their friends to make sure they were still engaged in conversation, “that’s the sort of thing that Milah was always looking for, you know? Being recognized in public and given special privileges. I guess that’s why she always insisted that I wear my uniform whenever we went out. Sometimes she would even ask for a free meal or free dessert, or a discount of some kind because I was in the Army. It was really embarrassing for me. DAMMIT! Why am I even thinking about her? It was a really nice thing for the manager to do and I can’t even enjoy it because it brings back memories of her!”

Emma reached up and turned his face towards her. “I understand why you were embarrassed when she used you to gain favors. That would upset me, too. But this was offered to you, and you do deserve to be recognized for your sacrifice. You shouldn’t feel bad about that.”

“I don’t really feel bad about it, I just feel so stupid that I couldn’t see Milah for who she was and what she really wanted.”

“I’m sorry that she treated you that way, Killian. You didn’t deserve it, but you...you loved her and that can blind us to the truth sometimes.”

“I know. I also know that I want to enjoy this evening, and talking about her isn’t going to allow that to happen. So let’s take a look at the menu, okay?”

Emma grinned. “Sounds good.”

*********

The rest of dinner went well, even though Killian continued to be a bit quieter than usual. David and Mary Margaret talked excitedly about their plans for the baby’s room.

“I don’t know why, I’ve just always liked farms,” David explained when Emma questioned their theme choice.

“Farm animal books are always so cute,” his wife threw in. “I especially like the touch and feel ones. I can hardly wait to read them to little Joshua and rub his tiny fingers over all the textures.”

David smiled sweetly at his wife. “We still have to wait a while before we can do that. First, we have to get his room ready. I have next Tuesday off, and I plan to paint the room that day.”

“Which he won’t let me help with,” Mary Margaret pouted.

“You shouldn’t be around all those fumes, M’s,” Emma commented.

“Thank you!” David said, smacking his hand on the table to emphasize his point. “I’ve been trying to tell her that!”

“I’ve heard of other expectant mothers who have helped paint…”

“Well, you’re not going to be one of them,” David said firmly.

“I’m not working until three o’clock that day, Dave. Would you like some help?” asked Killian. “I haven’t painted in a while, but I think I remember how to do it.”

David chuckled along with his friend. “You sure you want to do that?”

“Yeah, no problem! What time would you like me to be there?”

“We’re gonna get started on the prep work fairly early that morning, so I probably won’t be ready for the actual painting until around ten o’clock, if that works for you.”

“I am allowed to help with the prep work,” Mary Margaret said.

“I’ll plan on being there at ten, then,” Killian said.

“Thanks, man. Are you sure I can’t help you move tomorrow?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

The group of friends finished their meal, and Killian told David and Mary Margaret that he could take Emma back to the clinic to pick up her car. The married couple said their goodbyes and drove off, while Emma and Killian walked arm-in-arm to his truck.

“I know you told David that you didn’t need help moving, but would you mind if I helped you get settled into the hotel?” she asked, as he pulled out onto the street.

“Won’t you be busy taking care of all the plans for our date?” he teased.

“I hate to disappoint you buddy, but it’s gonna be pretty low-key.”

“That’s fine with me. I think we’ve already established that we don’t have to do anything elaborate.”

“Yeah, we did. Anyway, I thought maybe we could leave for our date after we unpacked everything. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable living there if you didn’t have boxes sitting around.”

“Good thinking. Sure, if you’re willing to help, I accept your offer. Could you come over around three o’clock, or is that too early?”

“Three should work out okay. My appointments are over by noon, and I don’t really have a specific time frame for what we’re doing tomorrow evening.”

They arrived at the clinic and Killian accompanied Emma to her car. She turned to him and ran her hands over his chest, stopping to lift his Purple Heart and reverently run her thumb over it.

“I’m so glad that you were there in person to receive this, Killian,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “Yeah, we were all missing Neal today. He definitely deserves being awarded the Silver Star too.”

She looked into the beautiful blue of his eyes. “Overall, it was a good day, and I want you to remember the best parts of it. I’m very proud of you, not only for being honored with this,” she tapped the medal lightly with her index finger, “but also for how you’ve recovered, and I’m not just talking about physically.”

“You’ve been a big part of that recovery, Emma, and I’m not just talking about physically.”

He dipped his head and captured her lips, pulling her closer so he could deepen the kiss almost immediately. She responded by roaming her hands up and down his back, while she swiped her tongue across his lips and into the warmth of his mouth. He wrapped his left arm around her slim waist, and tenderly gripped her jaw with his hand, tilting her head to an angle that allowed him better access.

Where all of their other kisses had been soft and sweet, this one was heated and passionate. When they finally had to catch their breath, Killian started trailing kisses along the elegant line of her neck. Her gasps and a soft moan spurred him on, until she remembered that they were standing beside her car, almost in the middle of the street.

Emma moved her hands up his arms and lightly gripped his biceps. “Killian,” she sighed, “we have to stop.”

He placed one final kiss just under her jawbone, then rested his forehead against hers. “That was…”

“Something that I’d definitely like to include in the plans for our date tomorrow,” she giggled.

“I agree,” he growled. He finally pushed away enough to look into her eyes. “Emma, thanks again for coming to the ceremony today. It meant...well, it meant more than I can put into words that you were there for me.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Killian.”

“I’d better let you go.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

He laughed. “I really don’t want to either, but I’m sure you’d like to get home.”

“Yeah, Evie isn’t going to be too happy with me!”

“Until tomorrow afternoon then?”

“I’ll see you at three. Oh, don’t forget to send me the address of the hotel.”

“I’ll do that as soon as I get back to my room. Good night, Emma.” He leaned in to kiss her lightly one more time.

“Good night, Killian,” she breathed, with her eyes still closed.

He waited until she’d started her car and pulled away with a smile and a wave, before he got into his truck and drove back to the Army base for his final night there.

*********

Killian was waiting for Emma when she pulled into the parking lot of the hotel the next day. He opened her door, and leaned in to give her a kiss before letting her get out of the car.

“Hey, nice to see you too,” she chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “Do you already have everything carried to your room?” She could see that the bed of his truck was empty.

“Aye. I got here at about 8:30 this morning, but I haven’t unpacked yet because I’ve been taking care of checking in and paying for the month. I also went to the post office to get a PO box, and bought some groceries.”

“How did it feel driving off the base for the last time?”

“A little odd, but I don’t think it will really sink in until I’ve been gone for a few days.” He stopped their progress and faced her. “You look lovely, Swan.”

Emma’s cheeks turned pink. She hadn’t dressed in anything special, just some turquoise cropped pants and a short sleeve tunic top with a geometric print. Her hair was held back with a wide headband. “Thank you.”

He led them to his room and used the key card to open the door, then stepped back and allowed Emma to enter first. She looked around at the sparse furnishings and outdated decor, and her heart sank. She hated to think that he was going to have to live in such a dingy place for an undetermined amount of time.

“I know it’s not much,” he said, scratching behind his ear and rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s only temporary, isn’t it?”

“Hopefully. Now that I’ve pretty much decided to stay in this area, I’ll start looking for an apartment.”

“I can help you with that, if you’d like. I’ll start asking around.”

“Thanks, Love. I don’t need anything big or fancy. I live pretty simply, as you can see.”

She saw that there were only about six cardboard boxes stacked in the living room, which had a sofa, a desk and chair, a television mounted to the wall, and an ottoman. The rest of the room had a queen-size bed, a dresser and a small kitchenette. She could see the door leading into the bathroom, and a folding door that she assumed was a closet.

He motioned toward the bed, on which there were a few stacks of clothes. “I’m gonna start putting these away.”

“Okay. Do you want me to start unpacking the boxes?”

“Sure. Just put things wherever you feel like they should go.”

Emma nodded and pulled the flaps open on the box closest to her. When she saw some bowls and pans, she carried it to the kitchen and started putting them into the cupboards. She saw that he had some canned goods in one of the cabinets already.

The next box had cooking utensils and silverware, which she quickly placed in the kitchen drawers.

When she opened the third box, she saw a picture on top. She picked it up to study it, and decided that it must be Killian with his brother and father. There was definitely a family resemblance between all three of them, but especially between Killian and his dad. They both had straight, dark hair and the same piercing blue eyes. Liam’s hair was lighter and curly, though he also had blue eyes.

She set the picture on the desk and reached for the next one in the box. This one was clearly taken when Killian and Liam were much younger, and included their mother. Emma could tell that Liam favored her, as she also had a fairer complexion and light brown hair. She had it pulled back into a ponytail, but Emma could tell that it was curly like her older son’s. The picture was taken at the beach and, even though they were all smiling widely, Emma noticed that Killian’s mother had dark circles under her eyes and a drawn look to her face from her illness. That photo was placed beside the first one.

There was one more picture frame in the box, and when she turned it over, she froze. It was a photo of Killian with Milah. He was in his dress uniform, and she was draped all over him, looking directly at the camera with a toothy smile. Emma felt a flush run through her body, and she stood up and walked over to the closet with the picture in her hand.

“Why do you still have this?” she asked, holding it up in front of Killian.

He stopped, holding a hanger with his prosthesis and a shirt in his hand. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Killian, why have you kept this picture?” When he still didn’t answer, she asked quietly, “Do you still love her?”

“Why would you ask that? You heard me tell her that I don’t.”

Her mind ran through the confrontation from the day before. “No, you didn’t say that. You said that she never loved you, but not that you didn’t love her.”

“How could I love her after what she did to me, Emma?”

“Stop evading my question - you haven’t given me a direct answer to it yet!” She studied him for a few moments as he opened and closed his mouth, attempting to come up with something to say. “But then again...maybe you have,” she said sadly.

She paced back and forth in the cramped space a couple of times. Killian watched her, trying desperately to gather his thoughts enough to give her the reassurance that she needed.

When she came to stand in front of him again, he could see the hurt in her eyes as she said, “I know we agreed that we were going to take things slow, Killian, but I really like you. I was hoping that eventually, what we have now could lead to something more. I just...I can’t do this. I can’t keep wondering if your relationship with her is going to come between us. You might not love her anymore, but she’s clearly still on your mind.”

She turned to walk to the door, throwing the picture on the bed as she went past it. Killian finally seemed to come to his senses. “Emma, wait!” he shouted, as he ran after her.

She was opening the door but stopped when she heard him. With her back still to him, she said, “I’m sorry, Killian. I can’t go out with you tonight. I need....some time, and I think maybe you do, too.”

Then she left, closing the door behind her. Killian stood in the middle of the room, running his hand through his hair and wondering if he’d just lost the best thing to ever happen to him.

*********

Now, please notice that the number of chapters is still a ? so there’s still more to come!

Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting and not yelling too loud at me!

Tagging @live-in-my-reality @nikkiemms @searchingwardrobes @wyntereyez @therooksshiningknight @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @therealstartraveller776 @snowbellewells @emmythedaydreamer @heartofkillian @pirateherokillian @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @hookedmom @ohmightydevviepuu @queen-serena88 @daxx04 @branlovestowrite @theonceoverthinker @laschatzi @coolcat08 @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @resident-of-storybrooke @mayquita @badwolfreturns @djlbg @withheartfulloflove @squidvisious @xsajx @lyssapup27 @tohellwiththepancakes13 @annastasiarinaldiva @hollyethecurious @kday426 @ohmyjoan @oncechi @spartanguard @hookpiratejones @apromisednightcap @andiirivera @swanlovato @ouat-the-hell @adoringjen @killianswannn @imlaxdris71 @xarandomdreamx @everything-person @eeteeaytay @glennaywh @gingerchangeling @lexie27 @reylowillliveon @tumblercanbetheworst @vvbooklady1256 @teamhook @myfearless-love @ultraluckycatnd @timeless-love-story @bugheadswanjones @goblynn @csalltheway @sals86 @badcats-andmice @darthbecky726 @166hours @kissmeretard @sederiana @eherron14 @bubblegum1425 @klynn-stormz @harshini01 @kingofmyheart14 @yasbio2015 @officerrogers @captainswan-shipper88 @sh12pen-bookfan @loveliklove @singersdd @bluewildcatfanatic @lfh1226-linda @crick-11 @angellifedeath @mythologicalmango @socmono @brustudyblog @harshini01 @artistoncer @hails-paige @eleveneitherway @broadwaybabe18 @idristardis @captainswan21 @qualitycoffeethings @dreamingdreamsalways @lavenderbudd @cassy1511 @onthe-virg-ofgreatness @theadventureofhistorygirl @aceofhearts17

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tvandenneagram · 4 years

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Once Upon A Time: Rumplestiltskin (Mr Gold) - Type 6w5

Rumplestilskin is conniving, forward planning and protective. Despite being the dark one and often being involved with the villains or being corrupted by the dark one magic, Rumplestilskin cares deeply about keeping the people he loves safe and makes many decisions based on this need of security. The longer he is the dark one he becomes more paranoid and uses his power as a way of keeping his loved ones safe and quelling his fears.

At his best, Rumple works on the side of good and partners with the heroes to cooperate with them towards the greater good. At his worst, he is paranoid, vengeful and malicious. He slips further into the hole of being the dark one and trusts no one and takes a mentality of being against any and everyone.

As a child Rumple had a turbulent upbringing with his mother desperately trying to protect him and going to great lengths to allow him to break the prophecy of being the saviour. Along with this is Rumple’s father blamed him for his mothers fate and eventually abandoning him to stay in Neverland. Rumple was very afraid of losing his father and being without guidance and support and finds that this is what occurs, leading to his own attitudes and beliefs as a father.

When Rumple is a father he only wants the best for Baelfire. When hearing from the seer that he will die in battle he decides it would be better to return injured to ensure he doesn’t abandon his son as he was abandoned by his father. This somewhat backfires as his wife Milah has strong feelings against this and begins to resent his actions.

Rumple has a strong attachment to those he loves, is deeply loyal and cares for them immensely. It is shown throughout the show how much he loves his son and it is also shown how strongly he loves Belle. He battles with his dark side and being a man that is worthy of being with her as he wants to have a family and home with Belle.

More than anything Rumple seems to crave having a home and family. While he uses dark magic to become strong and powerful his end goal is not to be the most powerful or knowledgeable but is instead concerned with family and safety. It is also important to note that he didn’t seek out the power of the dark one but through a series of events found himself killing and then possessing the powers.

Before he is the dark one, Rumple has the reputation of being a coward and when tasked with standing up for himself he is unable to do so. When Baelfire is injured and needs an antidote, which Rumple is tasked with killing the healer to attain. However, he can’t go through with it as he doesn’t want to be a killer. It also occurs again when he first confronts Hook but is reluctant to fight him and returns home without Milah.

Rumple has a wing 5 as he is very intelligent and meticulous with his planning he is more reserved and inward thinking that a wing 7 and calculates many of his decisions.

Tri-type: 6w5 - 3w4 - 8w9

Some quotes to describe Rumplestilskin’s motivations:

“Becoming the Dark One was the act of a coward, but I'm no longer that man. You are. And that weak coward will not be the Rumplestiltskin the world remembers.”

“You can trust me, Belle. I've already lost one son. I won't lose another.”

“We should all be scared. This is death itself. This is a fight we can not win.”

“Belle, I want you to know that I am sorry for everything. If I had to do it all again, I would make sure I was the man you deserved from the very start. I would change everything for you.”

“It's a sad truth that the people closest to us are the ones capable of causing us the most pain.”

“They didn't kill my son. I did. I brought magic to this world to find Bae and now he's dead. Magic always has a price and this is it but I'm prepared to die.”

Rumple: “Making a wish?”

Belle: “Better not. My hopes and plans don't turn out like I want them to. No matter what I do or who I trust.”

Rumple: “I understand the feeling.”

#rumbelle #enneagram #enneatypes #personality types #personality #tv #6w7 #6w5 #ennea 6 #ouat #ouat abc #rumplestiltskin #mr gold #ouat enneagram #enneagram 6 #character analysis #character breakdown #character profile

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ohmightydevviepuu · 4 years

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our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 11

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter eleven [11/12] AO3

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she’s been thinking that maybe it should say “Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck.”

Her partner’s been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

major, major shoutout here to @distant-rose and especially to @justanotherwannabeclassic who shared with me something they were working on that S was writing while i was struggling with this part. i felt so inspired by what they had done and by S’s words that i knew immediately how i wanted to write this bit of the story.

to @thisonesatellite, @profdanglaisstuff and @katie-dub who were all treated to MULTIPLE drafts of this chapter, with extra gratitude to poor katie who hadn’t even read any of it before having this shoved under her nose ❤️

to @captainswanbigbang, who made all of this possible

to all of you screaming at me after the last chapter, i hope i prove worthy of your time and patience and attention today--particularly @carpedzem who is trusting me 💕

It felt like it happened in a second.

Maybe less.

But in retrospect, as she stood there staring at Killian’s lifeless body on the floor of the station, it was more like a slow-motion trainwreck.

(Killian would have had a Shakespearean reference on the tip of his tongue, something sad and depressing but also beautiful. He would quote it, and she would roll her eyes, and he would explain it and wink and she thought it annoyed her but really--she kind of liked it.)

(She liked him.)

read the full chapter on AO3

chapter eleven

“Hey, Leroy,” David called, “I didn’t order this apple turnover.”

“Do I look like I care?”

It’s not that she hadn’t noticed Gold’s comment.

A pirate who pines for you.

Or Cora’s.

Love is weakness.

It’s just--there was a lot going on, and Emma thought--maybe if she could just get her parents to remember, somehow, that would help her figure out the whole curse situation.

(She hadn’t noticed.) (She hadn’t noticed.)

Henry said: “Wait, Grandpa, did you say apple?”

And looked at Killian.

And then at Emma.

And then back at Killian.

“It’s a trick,” Henry said. “As long as she’s alive, Emma is a threat to the curse.”

“Henry,” Regina said, “You’ve got to stop thinking like this. I’m your mother and I love you.”

“It’s my usual order from Granny’s, Henry. Nothing sinister.” David’s smile was persuasive and warm.

Charming, even.

“I’m very grateful to you, mate,” Killian said, “that you left off the bologna this time.”

Emma couldn’t see the future.

But Gold could, he claimed, and this, this--it was impossible, but he had somehow planned for exactly this.

“I’m quite pleased at the level of your devotion to Miss Swan. More than you could possibly know.”

It had been there, buried in the layers of conversation between the two men; in the history that they were excavating with each word.

“She’s the mother to your grandson.”

“I need Miss Swan. Surely you understand that.”

“You get what you wanted either way, don’t you, crocodile?”

“I’m a man who likes to plan for any contingency.”

“And when it doesn’t work?”

“It matters not. It might even add a little fuel to the fire.”

(Emma had missed it.) (Emma had missed all of it.)

Henry said: “You can’t eat that. It’s poison.”

It was pastry, Emma thought, but Killian--

He just looked at Henry, and she didn’t know she knew it, knew that Killian was looking at her kid and seeing the boy he had loved two hundred years ago when he said: “It’s going to be fine, lad. Your mother is going to be safe.”

(She knew it because she knew him.) (Open book.)

His eyes were on the chain.

Emma hadn’t even realized she was clutching it. Again.

“I think it might be the reason I’m still alive,” he’d said.

“Get Lacey,” he said. Killian’s lips were barely moving, his voice so low that only she could hear it. “Bring her here.”

“What?” Emma said. “When--?”

“For once, please,” he said, “just do as I ask, Swan. Promise me.”

Apples.

The apple tree was dying.

“If you do not succeed in breaking the curse on your own, killing you breaks the curse just as well as anything else.”

But Regina didn’t want the curse broken.

“I’ve found a solution to my Emma Swan problem.” “An old, reliable solution.”

Henry was up against the bars of the cell door, agitated and angry.

“Swan,” Killian said. “You weren’t wrong about me.”

(Henry had known.) (Emma should have known.)

She should have known.

It was there, in his expression, in the tilt of his head. It was the lost look in his eyes again, buttressed by something determined. And angry. And--

--hopeful.

“There’s hope, Swan.” "All you have to do is believe.”

Killian reached for the pastry, picking it up off the tray.

Regina twitched--started to say something, opening her mouth and closing it again.

Gold giggled.

Something stirred in Mary Margaret. “It must be taken willingly,” she said.

Which was pretty fucking creepy.

And then--

Oh.

“Regina’s not going to let all of her hard work burn.”

It was just one bite. One. Bite.

Hook was on the floor, his eyes closed and his body unresponsive.

(And her dreams, her goddamned dreams, she’d known this was coming, and yet--) (She hadn’t known.) (Not until it was too late.)

Emma’s knees hit the ground almost before he did.

“KILLIAN!”

Hello, beautiful.

I find I quite fancy you.

I love a challenge.

I haven’t lived a good life.

I’m not much for loyalty.

I was hoping it would be you.

I believe in good form.

I’m going to tell you a story.

Everything you think you believe is wrong.

Did I tell you a lie?

That’s the thing about revenge, you see: it’s an end, not a beginning.

I don’t dance, anyway.

We make quite the team.

You should know as well as anyone that Lost Ones recognize their own.

I am a man of honor.

Milah wouldn’t have wanted this.

My reasons are my own.

A reminder to both of us.

Don’t you know, Emma? It’s all for you.

You weren’t wrong about me.

The tray and its contents clattered to the floor, a mess all around her as David and Mary Margaret--her parents--startled at the noise, as Regina pulled Henry away.

“Killian,” Emma said. “Killian, can you hear me? Come on, Killian, come back to me.”

(He didn’t answer.) (Somehow, she had known that he wouldn’t.)

David unlocked the cell doors.

Fucking finally.

Mary Margaret came rushing in, her fingers jabbing uselessly at Killian’s wrists and neck for any indication of a pulse.

“He’s not dead,” Henry said, but he didn’t sound too certain, her son the Believer. “It’s just--”

“It’s a curse,” Emma said. She almost couldn’t make herself say the words, as she looked up at David, at her father, and forced him to look her in the eyes.

“Help me get him up,” David muttered.

“Aren’t you a real Prince Charming,” Mary Margaret said, putting an arm around Emma’s shoulder.

It was impossible to tell if he was breathing.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Miss Swan,” Gold said.

Liar.

Emma pushed Regina up against the wall, desperately wishing she had her gun. Or a pair of cuffs. “You did this,” she said.

“It was meant for you,” Regina said. But her smile, the sickening smile, suggested that she wasn’t entirely disappointed with the outcome.

“Wake. Him. Up.” Emma punctuated each word with a shove against the wall, only--

Regina laughed. “That’s not how the magic works, Miss Swan.”

Emma was on the floor.

Her back up against the bars, her feet flat against the floor, and it kept her eyes level with his, and Henry was there, just--

“It’s going to be okay, Mom.”

Mary Margaret was holding her hand, stroking her thumb soothingly against Emma’s palm.

(Emma did not get emotional over men.)

“What--” Henry gulped. “What’s going to happen to him?”

But Emma remembered this part, the story where Snow White had eaten the apple. His body would be like a tomb, and he would be in there with nothing, nothing but--

“Dreams formed of your own regrets,” Mary Margaret said, and Emma nodded.

(God, Killian had so many regrets.)

“Wait,” Emma said, blinking away tears. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing,” Mary Margaret said, but she had that look in her eyes, that far-away look, that haunted, cursed look--

“Just look at me,” he’d said, “and believe.”

It was under the bed.

Emma was sure it hadn’t been there before.

Oversized brown leather binding with old-timey script.

Once Upon A Time.

When Emma reached for the book she felt the power rushing through her, and she stood up.

It was time to end this.

“Henry,” she said. “I need you to go to The Rabbit Hole. Bring Lacey. Run.”

All curses can be broken. Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.

“He’s not dead.”

That’s what Emma said when Liam rushed into the room and looked around, his face pale and his eyes wide as they landed upon his brother.

“He’s not dead.”

Emma said it again as Lacey, resplendent as ever in her t-shirt-micromini-stilettoes combo, rushed in two steps behind Liam. She was saying it for them, but she was reminding herself, too.

She was reminding Henry, as well; Henry, who had refused to leave her. “I’m not leaving you.” That’s what he’d said when she told him to go, this small person she had helped create, who was somehow stronger than both of his parents combined. “I’m not leaving you here with them,” he’d said, biting back tears and pulling an old flip phone out of his pocket.

“Who are you calling, Henry” in Gold’s smoothed-over accent overlapped with “That phone is for emergencies only” in Regina’s acidic tone and Emma had snapped.

“I think this counts as a fucking emergency,” she said, somehow still clutching the storybook to her chest. Once Upon a Time. The rush of power, she could feel it on the edge of her consciousness, but it was something just out of her reach. She had no idea how to wake him up. How to wake any of them up. Mary Margaret and David--it was as if they were on the precipice of something, only Emma couldn’t push them the rest of the way.

“Mom,” Henry had said, “give me the book,” and then pulled it from her hands and gone to sit next to Mary Margaret.

He’d read her a story.

...they didn’t need words to express what they felt in their hearts, for it was here, in the shadow of the troll bridge, where their love was born--where they knew, no matter how they were separated, they would always…

Emma should have thought--should have realized--that Liam would come running just as quickly as Lacey would. In fact, it was probably Liam whom Henry had phoned; after all, they were friends. Liam was Hook’s brother.

“Liam is not the first brother of mine to bear that name.”

It was getting difficult to look at him, to look at Killian and to imagine what it must be like, to be trapped in a prison formed of his own regrets. But Emma also couldn’t look at Gold, who was watching Henry with something in his eyes that frightened her.

Neal was Gold’s son. Gold was Henry’s grandfather. Neal had known Hook, hundreds of years ago. Somehow, they had all ended up here--in a Land Without Magic.

Graham was dead. Gold had killed him over a dagger.

“Baelfire saw it as the source of all of his problems and I saw in it the solution to all of mine.”

It was Gold’s curse, and yet he had used Regina to cast it.

Had Gold--had he been looking for Neal?

It made a twisted kind of sense, Emma decided, watching Gold watch her son. As for her own family tree, well--

No one spoke as Henry’s words bounced around the station, through the bars and off the concrete brick walls. “Whatever she did to you,” Henry said, “I know Snow White is in there somewhere.”

Something stirred in Emma at the words, and in David, too, and then--

Liam. And Lacey.

And Gold’s cane clattered as it hit the floor.

Emma was shocked when Lacey came straight up to her and gave her a hug. “Is Jamie okay?”

Jamie--who the fuck was--oh. Right. But also, why was this woman hugging her?

“Belle?” Gold’s words were breathy, broken and disbelieving in a way Emma had never heard from him before. In that brief moment, there was nothing reptilian about him; nothing that glinted or leered, nothing powerful or all-knowing. He was just a man, and he was looking at Lacey as though he had been in a desert and she was water, half-afraid that she was an hallucination, but even more afraid that she wasn’t.

“You think the maid is some kind of chess piece?” “Given the circumstances, it seemed wise to acquire some leverage.” “She’s the only thing that can break him.” “She’s my friend.”

“You’re real,” Gold said. “You’re alive.” It was practically a whisper, one that Lacey acknowledged with a smile--the small, tight kind that showed no teeth as she stepped forward, bending to pick up the fallen cane.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Do I know you?”

“No,” Gold said, accepting the cane from her. “But you will.”

Lacey cocked her head, looking at him, managing somehow not to look terrified at the prospect as the moment ended and Gold’s expression turned murderous and he growled, “Which of them?” His accent thickened as he glanced first at Regina, and then at Emma. “Which of them did this to her?”

Emma instinctively put herself between her landlord--her son’s grandfather, Rumplestiltskin, the fucking Dark One--and Hook. “Hook rescued her, you asshole. From an asylum. Where Regina had her locked up for the past twenty-eight years.”

Regina hissed as Gold stiffened, and something like a shudder overcame Lacey. Belle. “Regina,” she said faintly. “Regina locked me up.” Her eyes--

Shit. She had that far-away cursed look, too. “I was told to find you, and tell you that Regina locked me up. Does that--does that mean anything to you?”

Gold moved, his arms outstretched, only something about the movement triggered the curse again as Belle--Lacey--snapped out of it.

“Lacey,” Liam called softly from inside the cell. Emma wanted to yell, to scream, there was no reason to be quiet--Killian couldn’t hear any of them, or any of this, trapped in a tomb of his own regrets--but she couldn’t. Not when Liam was all long limbs and uncertainty as he hovered over his brother’s body, looking for the same signs of life Emma had tried--and failed--to find. Lacey gave Emma’s shoulder a squeeze, running her hand down Emma’s arm and gently pulling her into the cell with the brothers, and with Henry, who left the storybook on the floor as he stared up at Liam.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Lacey said, also keeping her voice low in a way that made Emma want to scream. “Are you okay?”

Emma blinked. Lacey’s smile was sad but genuine. “I saw the two of you together,” she reminded Emma, “and Jamie told me about you. He said to bring you this if anything happened to him.” She dropped Emma’s arm and twisted, pulling the crossbody bag slung over her shoulder from her back to her front.

“He’s not dead,” Lacey muttered.

“He’s not,” Emma echoed. Then, “Do you even understand what is happening?”

“Emma,” Lacey said, “Do you?” She was holding something in her hand, about the length of her forearm, wrapped in paper. “But he trusts you. So I trust you.”

Emma took the parcel. She could feel the twisted blade inside, crinkling the paper as she gripped the handle. She turned so that Mary Margaret and David--her parents--couldn’t see it. They sat on the other side of the bars, almost frozen as they watched her with Henry, and with Liam, and with Lacey, the storybook still open in front of them on the concrete floor, an illustration of a minutes-old baby girl tucked into a hand-knitted blanket with purple trim covering both pages as a man shoved her into a wardrobe with the last breath in his body.

“How did this happen?” Liam asked.

Of course, that he said loud enough to carry.

Regina smirked. “Miss Swan,” she said, “why don’t you explain to this young man why his brother is comatose and possibly dying, all because you put him in harm’s way?”

Because apparently, reading people at their worst was a family trait. But Cora was gone, dead by Killian’s hand in her defense, and Emma was not responsible for his choices.

She kept telling herself that, too.

Even though she should have known.

Even though her dreams had warned her.

Liam’s face fell, and Emma braced herself, wondering if anger was a family trait for the Jones men the same way it was for the Mills women. “You’re the one,” Liam said, “who got him--and got me--involved in all of this.”

“And if you had listened to me,” Regina said, “he might not be in this position. Miss Swan would have been long taken care of.”

“Listened to you?” And there it was, the flash of his elder brother, in the harshness of his consonants and the icy coolness of his rage. “You wanted me to spy on him, to tell you about her. But I know, Regina, what you did to him, and what you did me, and--”

Emma put her hand on his shoulder, an echo of Lacey’s gesture, in an attempt to give him comfort. “Liam,” she said, “you didn’t do this. As for you--” she directed her glare at Regina, grateful for anything to focus on beside the unmoving body mere feet away “--I’m locking you up.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Regina spat.

“Let’s see,” Emma said, pretending to think. “The sheriff is literally standing right next to you, so we could start with whatever the hell your game is with Kathryn Nolan. But we have so many other choices: you’ve committed false imprisonment, theft, and, of course, attempted murder--”

That’s when her voice caught.

Because Killian was there, unmoving, mere feet away.

Emma closed her eyes, so she heard instead of saw David push Regina into Mary Margaret’s cell; she didn’t open her eyes again until she also heard the door close and the lock click.

“I’m going to fix this,” Emma said. She said it for herself as much as for Liam, or for Lacey, or for Henry. She said it because she needed to hear it, too.

“It happened,” Henry said, “because your brother is a hero.” There was so much conviction in his voice--Emma could hear how much he wanted Liam to believe. “It happened because he didn’t want me to lose my mom, the way you lost your dad. He didn’t want to see another family broken up.” Lacey nodded, but Liam just shook his head and looked mournfully at Henry. “My mom is going to fix this,” he said. “I promise, Liam.”

Gold cleared his throat. His gold tooth was glinting again as he grinned, all traces of the human man with human emotions gone as he was every inch Hook’s crocodile once more.

“I wonder, Miss Swan,” he said. “What exactly do you intend to do about the magical ailment that has befallen my old friend? To fix it, as you say.”

Slowly, Emma advanced on him, emerging from the cell. The dagger--the Dark One’s dagger, the thing that Graham had fucking died for--was still in its wrappings, and his eyes followed her, and it, with speculation.

“All magic comes with a price, dearie,” Gold said.

“He shouldn’t have had to pay it,” Emma said. “Not this time.”

“That’s debatable,” Gold said, “but let’s agree to disagree, shall we?”

“Cut the bullshit, Gold,” Emma said. “You obviously think you still have a plan here, so what is it?”

“I, Miss Swan,” he said, “always have a plan.” Emma’s hand clenched around the dagger so tightly that she could feel the curved edges of the blade and wondered that she hadn’t cut herself yet. “If you had listened to me prior to the Captain’s unfortunate incident--” he gestured with the cane “--we might not have been in this position.”

Emma stared, waiting.

Finally, he said, “True Love. The only magic powerful enough to transcend realms and break any curse.”

Emma very carefully did not look at Killian, but was still rewarded with another one of Gold’s giggles. “Luckily for you,” he said, “I happen to have bottled some.”

Regina stirred. “You did?” Her surprise was evident.

“Oh, yes,” Gold purred. “From strands of her parents’ hair, I made the most powerful potion in all the realms. So powerful, that when I created the Dark Curse, I placed a single drop on the parchment.” For the first time since Lacey had entered the station, Gold moved. Two slow, deliberate steps until he was standing directly in front of Regina, and he leaned forward. “Just a little safety valve,” he said. His cane tapped the bars for emphasis.

“You twisted little imp,” Regina said. “You--”

But Emma was finished with her--with all of it. “You still don’t get it, do you?” Emma said impatiently. “He planned all of this, he and Cora, and it’s not about you at all, or me, or any of us. We’re here because he wanted us to be here. I’m the Savior so that I can break the curse--so that he can leave Storybrooke and go find his son.”

Emma tore the paper from the dagger and held it up by the handle, brandishing it at Gold. “Stop me if I’ve got this wrong,” Emma said. “But I’m not, am I? Neal ended up in Neverland because of you. He left me, pregnant and alone and in jail, because of you. He abandoned his son, your grandson. Because he was afraid of you. Because he hated you.”

“Tell me something, love. If a woman begs you to take her away, is that theft?”

“She left you,” Emma whispered, “because she hated you.”

“Emma,” Lacey said, trying to pull at her arm. Emma shrugged her off, keeping her eyes on Gold. She wasn’t sure if it was the sound of Lacey’s voice or the sight of his precious object, but a change had come over him. He looked--older, suddenly. Angry, and defiant, and--for the first time--scared.

He hadn’t planned for this.

The anger Emma felt bubbling up within her, the hatred, it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Not even when Neal had left--not even when she’d gone to prison--not even when she’d had to give up Henry. She pushed forward, walking toward him, crowding him, continuing her recitation: “And this? Your magical, mystical dagger. The source of all of your power, that you thought was hidden. The reason you killed Graham--but he was smarter than you gave him credit for. Both of them were.”

Emma took the last step toward him, forcing him against the bars and holding the dagger almost against his neck. “And you?” she said. “You’re just a coward.”

There was nothing powerful about Gold, not then. Not with his own dagger pressed almost into his skin, the tip of it very nearly piercing his flesh--there was only fear. The thing might be a paperweight in this realm, in this Land Without Magic, but it was sharp as fuck and ready to cut.

“So tell me, crocodile,” Emma said, “what do you know of True Love?”

True Love is the rarest magic of all.

And all Emma felt was fury--and how easy it would be to push the knife farther into his throat.

He was struggling against her as he spoke, but Emma had him completely pinned. Letters Emma hadn’t even noticed made themselves visible, spelling a name: Rumplestiltskin. It flashed for a second and then just as quickly began to fade away, one letter at a time beginning to disappear.

“You--” Lacey said. “You loved someone?”

Gold licked his lips. “It was a brief flicker of light amidst an ocean of darkness.”

That’s when Emma noticed the blood. He was bleeding from a wound she had made--

“All magic comes with a price." "The price of this magic is--unspeakable.”

Emma’s grip faltered; her shoulders sagged and her head felt suddenly heavy.

“Mom,” Henry said, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Don’t. Please--don’t.”

“Vengeance is tempting." "The darkness always is.”

Emma turned, and she could feel them--the tears--burning at the edges of her eyes.

“It creeps up in you. Resist it.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said. “You can’t give in, or your life will be just like his. Bleak, and empty, and full of darkness. I gave Henry that book to give him hope.”

“Heroes do what’s right,” Henry said. “Not what’s easy.”

Something in Emma broke, as she suddenly felt everything, all of it--the grief, the anger, the helplessness, the sadness--all at once. She fell backward on unsteady feet, taking one step after another until her hands felt the wall behind her, and she sank to the floor.

Sobbing.

“Why couldn’t you?” she’d asked in her dream. “I didn’t have anything to live for,” he said, “to keep me on my path. Use whatever it takes to stay on yours."

But what did Emma know about True Love? Nothing--less than nothing--less than the goddamn Dark One. She had been abandoned by her parents, or sent through a magical wardrobe; either way she had grown up alone. She had been abandoned by Neal and she, in turn, had given up her kid--afraid to let herself love Graham, afraid to love Mary Margaret, afraid to love Kil--

“Mom.” Henry was barely taller than her shoulder because of the way she was sitting. “You can do this, Mom. I believe in you.” Emma reached for him with the hand not still clutching the dagger, wrapping him in a hug and pulling him down to the floor next to her. Henry nestled into her side as if he had done it every day of his life and Emma instinctively shifted so that her head lay atop his.

Even after everything, his hair still smelled sweet and clean. It was the first time Emma had smelled it.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said. Her friend--her mother--was kneeling on the floor in front of her, one hand on Emma’s knee, looking as though she was actually trying to restrain herself from pulling Emma into her arms.

“Mom,” Emma whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let you down.”

She hadn’t broken the curse. She had been attacked, kidnapped by a madman who had vanished into a magic hat and imprisoned by the fucking Queen of fucking Hearts. Graham was still dead. Killian was--gone.

What was she going to tell Liam?

What had any of it even been for?

Emma Swan wasn’t a savior.

Emma Swan wasn’t some fairy tale princess.

There were no fairy godmothers in this world.

“You didn’t, Emma, shhh,” Mary Margaret said. “I don’t care what you do or say, I will never stop trying to protect you, and you could never let me down.”

For the first time in her life, Emma let herself be gathered up and held by someone, by her best friend, by her mother.

“I love you, Emma,” Mary Margaret whispered, and Emma felt her mother’s kiss on the crown of her head.

...And, yes, she was beyond hope. Beyond saving. This was her end. When Prince Charming saw his beloved Snow White in her glass coffin, he knew all that was left was to say goodbye. He had to give her one last kiss. And when he did, True Love proved more powerful than any curse. A pulse of pure love shuddered out and engulfed the land, waking up Snow White and bringing light to the darkness.

@kmomof4 @shireness-says @optomisticgirl @scientificapricot @captainsjedi @carpedzem @mariakov81 @stahlop @eirabach @snowbellewells @searchingwardrobes @spartanguard

#cs fic #cs ff #captain swan rewrite a thon #our little life (rounded with a sleep)#canon divergence #s1 divergence #cursed!killian #an alternate theory of the curse

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captcas · 4 years

Text

Life is Short

LIFE IS SHORT by capthamm

Emma Swan and Killian Jones make the most of how short life truly is. **Inspired by the song Cecily Smith (Acoustic) by Will Connelly**

**WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH**

read on ao3 / 2378 words

”I’m just headed for a walk and probably a slushie.”

As she got herself ready, Emma decided that she’d rather get a disapproving look for buying another slushie than have to explain to Mary Margaret that she’s going on a date. She turns her head, avoiding said look, as she walks out the door.

Emma doesn’t go on dates but a drunken download of tinder and 3 right swipes later (Storybrooke’s bachelor scene leaving much to be desired), she finds herself walking towards the harbor. The closer she gets the more she realizes maybe telling MM that she was meeting up with a stranger wouldn't have been the worst idea.

Storybrooke is small and she reasons to herself that, if something nefarious did happen, they’d find her eventually.

Killian doesn’t seem to have a nefarious bone in his body… at least through tinder messaging. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into, Emma?

She walks up to the water’s edge, finding peace in the solid ground beneath her feet. While she’ll admit the view is nothing to scoff at, Emma doesn’t particularly see the draw to spending an entire day aboard a rickety boat or getting soaking wet at the beach. If it’s someone’s thing, more power to them, but she prefers solid, dry land.

She’s lost in her thoughts when she hears someone walk up behind. She turns to meet him and is pleasantly surprised at how accurate his profile picture is— let's just say Leroy wasn't 6’2” and blonde. Emma’s about to comment on his honesty when he puts out his hand expectantly, “Killian Jones and I hope you like sailing because I may or may not have bribed my brother to allow the use of our co-owned vessel for tonight’s date.”

He smiles so brightly and confidently that she can't help but get wrapped up in his warmth, and he’s so perfectly British that even Emma can’t resist swooning a bit. All of these things would’ve been great to comment on, but before she can form a coherent thought she hears herself say, “I hate sailing.”

Somehow his smile gets wider. “Well lucky for you you’re with Killian Jones. I’ve never met a lass I couldn’t win over with a taste of the sea.” He must sense Emma’s hesitation and continue, “Life is not the things that we do, but who we’re doing them with.”

The quote catches Emma off guard— poetic and eloquent in an overall casual conversation. Although, she’s pretty sure he could make the phonebook sound poetic with his accent. She nods slightly and gives him a soft smile before he leads her towards the ship with a wave of his hand.

It turns out sailing takes a lot more effort than Emma thought. She’s currently just enjoying a glass of wine on the faux leather bench behind the captain’s wheel, but Killian has been running rampant as he steers them out of the comfort of the harbor. She tried to tell him they could just stay docked, but he insisted on the view from the horizon line. While Emma is amused by his childlike wonder, she figures nothing will come of the night if he has to be this attentive to the ship the entire time. It’s that mindset which has her sink down in her seat and close her eyes. The steady rhythm of his breath and the slight rock of the waves could lull her to sleep in no time.

She wakes up to his fingers threading between hers and has to stifle the gasp which fills her throat. Her gut instinct is to clock him for being so forward, but when she turns to face him, his face is radiating joy and she can’t find it within herself. They spend the rest of the night like that, chastely intertwined while he details countless stories told by the constellations. “Upon seeing Andromeda bound to the rock, Perseus falls in love with her. Perseus kills the monster and they are married for many years. It is said that Perseus is Hercules’ grandfather. Now they are up there side-by-side with Cepheus and Cassiopeia as a reward from Athena for Perseus’ bravery.”

Emma hums contently and without thought before realizing her head has found a resting spot on Killian’s shoulder. Besides the odd question here and there, Emma has been more than happy just listening to him talk, but at the sound of her hum she feels him tense beneath her. “Am I boring you, love?”

She can’t help but chuckle to herself before somehow finding it in herself to be blatantly honest, “This is the best time that I’ve ever had.”

Even in the dark she can see the slight blush on his ears and the smile that forms. He gazed at her intently for a moment before standing up.

The sudden lack of his touch is startling.

“I suppose I should get us home, Swan.” She wants to argue that they aren’t children but when she checks her watch she realizes it’s almost midnight. It’s not like she’s going to turn into a pumpkin, but MM thought she was just going for a slushie and is probably pacing a hole into the floor.

Emma nods reluctantly and Killian smiles at her, softer this time, but the sparkle still present in his eyes. “Lucky for you, I own this beautiful vessel and we can take her out whenever you’d like.”

She wishes she could say she was shocked at her answer, “I'd like that.”

At the beginning of the night had you told Emma Swan that she’d be willingly agreeing to a second date on the water, she would’ve assumed you were from some alternate universe. As they say goodnight and he kisses her softly on the cheek, Emma is all too aware of the magnitude of the evening.

Her world has been changed forever by one Killian Jones.

. . .

The rest of their 57 years together are split almost evenly between time on land and time aboard that ship.

When Emma asked the kids for help with their dad’s final voyage, she expected a crowd— grandkids and spouses alike— so when they showed up alone with a picnic blanket and a star map, just like “old times”, she couldn’t help but let out another round of tears.

Now as she walks the rusting ramp, Percy helping her and Cassie jogging ahead to get started undocking, she swears she can still hear him laughing. It’s as though the fibers of the sails kept each moment spent beneath them tucked safely away and she can’t imagine a better place for him to rest.

Cassie expertly navigates to the exact spot Killian anchored them in that first night so long ago. They’ve sailed here many times, so it’s no wonder it’s second nature for her. After making sure the ship was sturdy, Percy and Cassie head below deck leaving Emma alone with her memories.

That first date was on a night not unlike the one she’s wrapped in now, but everything else has changed monumentally— very little of the lost girl who boarded that ship remains. She found herself in Killian Jones. His cheery disposition and outlook on the “adventure” that is life pushed Emma out of comfort zones she didn’t even realize she was living in.

The sound of her tear hitting the ceramic vase is what brings her back to the reality of the moment. She’s unsurprised to find her tear a bittersweet one, Killian always assuring her there was no use in spending what little time we have on this planet in despair.

“Oh, how much I miss you, Killian Jones.” She whispers softly to herself as she finds her footing and heads to the railing of the boat. She slowly uncaps the urn and carefully empties the contents into the sea her husband loved so deeply. She clutches the necklace he directed Percy to have made, telling their son that his love of the sea was only matched by his love of their mother. It’s a long chain, and etched into the pendent somehow made of his ashes is a quote from the night they met: Life is not the things that we do, but who we’re doing them with.

She kisses the necklace softly before looking to the stars, Perseus and Cassiopeia shining bright as ever, “Killian Jones, how fortunate am I to have done life with you.”

. . .

“It doesn’t matter why I need her, I just do.” He levels with Liam, slightly rolling onto his toes to meet his brother’s height.

“Not good enough. You never insist on taking the ship so there has to be a reason.” Liam steps back a tad before crossing his arms.

Killian is not getting away with this one.

“I have a date.” Liam’s eyebrows skyrocket into the curls covering his forehead. Killian practically winces waiting for the slew of questions which will no doubt follow, but finds his fear unfounded.

Liam simply nods before turning away, “Fair enough. She’s all yours.” Killian is left alone in their living room completely dumbfounded but also entirely grateful. Liam is fully aware that he hasn’t taken anyone out on the ship since Milah’s passing and his brother’s lack of probing tells Killian the gravity of the action is not lost on Liam.

He never doubted his brother would let him take their ship, but it would be like Liam to rent it out or take Belle out for a last minute excursion without so much as a second thought at Killian prior request.

Any other night, he wouldn’t have minded, but tonight feels important.

He’s only chatted with Emma for a week or two through Tinder— Ruby assuring him he needed to get laid before setting up his entire account for him. The pair hit it off almost immediately, but he could tell she was skittish so Killian let her lead despite his immediate fascination with the woman beyond her good looks.

His outlook on life shifted dramatically after losing his Milah. Many men would have spiraled into a deep depression and the bottom of several liquor bottles— Killian would be lying if he said he didn’t try that route at first— but one day it hit him that he’d been given (albeit in the worst way possible) a brilliant life lesson. Life is short. And that’s the first time everything changed for Killian Jones.

As he walks up to the dock and spots her long blonde hair, his feelings are startlingly similar to that night— the one where his life changed for the better. He takes a deep breath, shaking out any final nerves, and repeats his mantra to himself: life is short.

Typically his date falling asleep before they’ve even reached their anchor point would be discouraging, but to Killian he can’t help but find pride in the comfort Emma feels in his presence. He reasons with himself that surely she would’ve been consistently on high alert had he flown any red flags.

It’s that self talk that gives him the courage to sit beside her.

Bloody hell, is he glad he did.

They spend the night detailing myths of the cosmos and time scurries away from them. He feels every minuscule movement she makes as they lean against one another and Killian is a goner by the time they get to the Big Dipper. Not only is Emma Swan the most stunning woman he’s ever seen— thank god her profile was of the honest sort— but she’s also bloody brilliant. He revels in every syllable she says, each moment tattooing a little more of her into his heart.

He’s worried he’s fallen too deep too fast, when she agrees to a second date— on the water no less— and all nerves dissipate immediately.

Before he knows it, Perseus comes along and makes him a father— Cassie following closely behind. Of course there were more dates, a wedding, two houses, and some fights in between, but when he thinks of the compression of time between their first date and the birth of their son, he can’t help but be flabbergasted. Time slowed eventually, retirement and being a grandparent bringing a new sense of purpose to their shared life.

But life is short.

The cancer comes a lot like his love for her did— at full speed and in full force— and it’s course seemed to speed up time once more. Killian knew his time was nearing the end, but couldn’t find it in himself to be sad.

Why waste what little time we have in life in despair? (Emma swears he said that to her one day, but he’s pretty sure she taught him that.)

It’s a chilly May afternoon when he asks Percy to join him for lunch. His son has grown into a fine young man, a father himself three times over, and he couldn’t be more proud. While he’s also proud of Cassie, Killian knows Percy will do what needs to be done with little rebuttal of “don’t talk like that” and “you’re going to make it”. Cassie feels with her heart and soul, but Percy has always been rational and dutiful. He knows Percy will have the necklace made and he’s positive it will be more beautiful than even Killian could dream up.

Killian is slightly surprised when Percy goes to protest Killian’s reference to his own impending doom, but one tweak of his eyebrow and his son clamps his mouth shut. Percy listens carefully for the rest of the meal, taking notes and assuring Killian he’ll do what needs to be done.

Killian has no doubt.

When the day comes, Emma doesn’t leave his side— he never doubted that she would. She hadn’t for 57 years so why start now? He gets to say goodbyes, which is more than most and he goes out looking into his wife’s eyes— strong, ready, and full of love.

Killian couldn’t have pictured a life half as wonderful as the one he got to lead, and he attributes every ounce of that fate to the woman who he got to do it with.

Life is not the things that we do, it’s who we’re doing them with. - Michael Mitnick “Cecily Smith”

#captain swan #cs ff #killian jones #emma swan #cs ff au #capthamm #one shots #cecily smith

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that-sarcastic-writer · 5 years

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Mistakes from the past- Killian Jones/Captain Hook X Fem!Reader

Pairing: Killian Jones/Captain Hook X Fem!Reader

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Warnings: none really

Summary: Killian and the reader were in a relationship before the curse. They split up and when they meet again in storybrooke he finds out he has a daughter.

A/N: This is gonna be my attempt at writing a short series. I’m awful at writing series but I feel like this prompt deserves to be done properly and that requires dividing it into parts. Ps, as I said, I’m not that far into the show, I know he technically has two daughters already but lets assume this story doesn’t take place in that storyline. This is my own plot and storyline so I’m making up shit as I go. As I said with my previous Killian shots, I’m only trying to have fun here so if I say something wrong dont quote me on it, just enjoy the Killian content.

Also, I know the timeline of this storyline (my storyline) won’t correlate with the ouat timeline because if im not mistaken, Killian was in Neverland the majority of time before the curse after Milah died. And he only went to the enchanted forest a little bit before the curse. (I’m probably wrong but that’s what I’ve seen so far) Butttt for this, let’s say there was this year or so where he wasn’t in Neverland roughly about 6 years before the curse happened. So that’s when his relationship with Y/n happened. And this also takes place about a year or so after the curse was broken (around season 2, but not the same storyline ) because that’s around the time Killian got to storybrooke. Just clarifying, I know timelines in ouat tend to be confusing like that.

(you are here), part 2

The ever so subtle sound of wind blew in through your open window, refreshing your bedroom with the chilly Maine breeze. If it wasn’t for the rays of sunlight that sneaked their way into your bedroom you would’ve sworn it was still dawn as you were so deep into slumber. Though, such bliss was soon cut short by the sound of subtle and short footsteps making it’s way into your bedroom. You felt an extra weight on your bed as the spot next to you sunk with the weight of a small child.

“Mommy wake up!” You heard the giggly voice of your 6 year-old daughter, Anastasia Grace. Exhaling deeply into your pillow, you clutched it in your arm tightly as your muscles clenched before you allowed your muscles to relax again. Upon opening your eyes, you were met with your daughter’s ocean blue eyes. They were so innocent and pure; so intense and full of life. They were nearly as intense as his..

Sighing softly, you brought your body up into a sitting position, allowing the small child to find herself a spot on your lap. Smiling, you ran your fingers through her raven locks as you looked down at her. Pressing a kiss to her small forehead, you carefully moved her off your lap so you could get out of bed.

Stretching your full body, a soft groan escaped your lips as your muscles clenched once again and a yawn left your lips immediately after. “Morning baby. How did my little princess sleep?” You asked your daughter as she climbed out of bed followed you to your bathroom like a lost puppy. Giggling, she followed you in and out of your bathroom and out to your kitchen. You listened to her constant rambling and giggles as she retold the dream she had the previous night. As per every morning, she retold her recurring dream where she met her nameless father and you were all a happy family. Needless to say, she didn’t have what most people called a father figure, sure she had you. You were her mother and father and that was all she needed. But there was this empty void you couldn’t fill no matter how hard you tried. And it truly broke your heart to see her so excitedly talk about a nameless man she knew nothing about and so desperately wanted to know. But that wasn’t entirely your fault, of course it wasn’t. It was his.

Sighing, you tried to shake those thoughts off mind as you looked through the fridge. Well.. It was time to do groceries. Turning around to look at Anastasia, who was patiently sitting on the dining table with a coloring book, you closed the fridge and clapped your hands together, “How about we get some breakfast at granny’s?” A wide, cheeky smile made it’s way to her lips as she nodded excitedly.

“Granny’s it is,” You smiled as you grabbed her tiny hand into yours and led her upstairs to her bedroom, “Go get dressed while I take a quick shower, okay baby?” She nodded quickly and scurried off to her room. You watched as she skipped happily, giggles filling the atmosphere. Despite only being you, you couldn’t be happier to have her in your life, even if the circumstances weren’t the best. And she was your reminder that it should only be you and her. And there was no room for anyone else in your lives.

~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving at Granny’s, you were happy to see that Emma, Mary Margaret and Henry were also having breakfast. Anastasia was quick to run to their booth, letting her presence to be known. “Look who we got here. How’s our little princess doing?” Mary Margaret said with a smile as Anastasia ran to her first. Her and Emma also looked at you, smiling in your direction. You returned the gesture, taking the spot next to Mary Margaret.

“Morning.” You sighed softly, with a little bit of weariness on your tone. Upon noticing such, Emma gestured to Henry.

“Hey kid, why don’t you watch over Annie for a little bit? She hasn’t seen your for a minute.” She gestured to Henry, giving him a look and a half smile he probably understood. Henry happily complied, moving off the booth and grabbing Annie’s hand, leading her outside. Once the minors were far enough, both Emma and Mary Margaret turned to look at you with concerned eyes.

“What is it now Y/N? Did she ask again?” Mary Margaret spoke first. They were both mostly aware of your predicament when it came to Anastasia’s father. They didn’t know who he was exactly, nobody did. You choose to keep it that way for both yours and your daughter’s sake. But they knew just enough to be aware of how delicate the topic was.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you nodded shortly, “Yeah.. She just kept telling me about her dream and how she met him and how happy we all were.. Together.” You chuckled bitterly at that word. He probably had no idea what that word even meant.

“I know we’ve been over this Y/N, but, why don’t you try finding him? I mean its been, well, years, I’m sure if you talked to him now he would reconsider it.” Emma said, with a shrug. You scoffed, shaking your head with an eye roll. That would be the reasonable thing to do for most people. But he wasn’t like most people. With him, that’s the last thing you would ever do.

“You out of all people should know why I don’t want to do that. Did you look for Henry’s dad when you gave birth or when you found Henry again? No. So, for that exact reason you didn’t, I’m not going to.”

“I mean c'mon Y/N. He can’t be that bad, right?” Emma tried to argue. You exchanged looks of disbelief between Emma and Mary Margaret, who seemed to agree with Emma. You chuckled bitterly and shook your head. They had no idea who they were talking about.

“Okay so, take Henry’s dad, then multiply that by a thousand, that’s Anastasia’s father. We don’t need, nor want him in our lives. He would only hurt us. Cause that’s what he does best.” You frowned slightly as you took a sip of the coffee you had order, downing the small taste of bitterness the topic of him left down your throat. They both gave you looks of sympathy. Looks of pity even. “Besides,” You continued, “he’s not even in storybrooke. He wasn’t in the enchanted forest when the curse hit, I know that. And let’s hope for both our sakes, he never steps a foot on this town.”

~~~~~~

Killian stood on the sidewalk, in front of what he assumed was some sort of dinning. He looked around the unfamiliar town, trying to grow accustomed to the unknown land. Though, his attention was drawn into something or more like someone tugging at the end of his leather coat. Upon looking down he was met with a small child. Interesting..

“Yes child? Are you lost?” Killian asked the little girl in front of him with confusion lacing through his tone. He didn’t know much about children, but he did know children didn’t interact with strangers unless they were lost. Perhaps things were differently on this foreign land.. Still, his confusion only grew bigger when she.. smiled? When she smiled at him and shook her head. “Very well, do I know you then? Because I certainly would recall meeting a little girl like you.. And that I don’t.”

“I know you! You’re that man on my mom’s drawer. I remember you!” She exclaimed. Killian’s confusion only grew bigger by the minute. Nothing this child said made any sense to him. He was debating whether he should just walk away and dismiss this whole situation. That seemed like the reasonable thing to do. He, however, chose to humor the young girl. He slowly nodded and he crouched down to meet her intense blue eyes with his own. For a moment there, but only for a brief moment, the look in her eyes reminded him of someone.. But that couldn’t be, of course not..

“Is that so?” Killian made a humming sound, making her nod. “Well, so tell me sweetheart, how exactly am I on your mother’s drawer?”

“In an old picture! You’re with her and you’re wearing funny clothes!” She giggled at the thought then pointed to his own very, peculiar pirate looking attire. “Like those!”

Killian cocked his eyebrow in thought. Who could she possibly be talking about? Surely, it wasn’t someone from Neverland much less the Island he stayed in during the curse.. A certain someone did come to mind at the mention though, but that just couldn’t be.. There was no way.. The chances of her being in storybrooke with a child were little to none.

There was only one way to find out. “What’s your name little girl?”

“Anastasia Grace L/N.” Killian’s eyes grew a bit wide. That last name.. He knew it all to well. But no, that couldn’t be. There were countless amounts of people with that same last name. It could just merely be a coincidence. Right?

Killian took a deep breath and dared to ask the definitive question. “What’s your mother’s name?”

“Y/N L/N.”

Killian’s jaw dropped ten feet under grown and his eyes grew the size of the moon. There was no way. That couldn’t be.. It couldn’t be her.. Out of all people, it had to be her..

Standing up to his full height, Killian ran a hand through his raven hair and sighed exasperatedly. Well.. There was only one thing he could do at that point.

“Can you take me to your mother? There’s an important matter I need to discuss with her.” With a small giggle, Anastasia nodded and grabbed his hand. Hesitantly, Killian took her tiny hand into his and allowed her to lead him inside the dining. There he saw someone he thought he would never have the luck to see again.

“Y/N.”

Part 2

《As I said this is the first part of what will be a short series. Know that I had to rewrite the second half of this one three times because it wouldn’t save properly. This last one didn’t turned out exactly how I wanted to, but I really hope you enjoyed it. Part 2 will be up in a few days at most》

#killian jones imagine #killian x reader #killian jones x reader #killian jones #captain hook #captain hook imagine #captain hook x reader #once upon a time #one shot #ouat #ouat imagine #imagine #x reader

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

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Author Interview (2.0)

Tagged by @gingerchangeling and @kmomof4 and @thisonesatellite and so by the Rule of Three I must now do the thing.

Name: Saira (profdanglais on AO3)

Fandoms: OUAT /CS

Where I post: tumblr & AO3

Most popular one/two shot: one-shot: The Depths of Love. Two shot: As Soon Kindle Fire With Snow.

Most popular Multi-Chapter: Raised With The Fume of Sighs, still and always, I guess, though Their Way By Moonlight is slowly catching up (this pleases me).

Favorite Story I Wrote: Moonlight is my baby. But there are others I love and also felt deeply, namely On What They Fall, To Keep It All The Year, and of course The Very Witching Time.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: I was a bit nervous the first time I posted something, but once I sort of got to know the ropes I haven’t really been nervous about any of them. (Bit nervous about the CSRR because it is a NEW DEPARTURE. But that’s a worry for Future Saira)

How You Choose Your Titles: Ha. With much sweat and bad judgement. I usually choose a vague theme that fits the story and look for quotes about it, then adapt words from one of them. I tried VERY HARD to use song lyrics for ...and held her in my arms but they flat out refused to cooperate, so in the end I went for a Yeats poem. We are what we are and I am not a music person.

Complete: 33 😬

Incomplete: 5, I believe. One of which should be finished by the end of the month 🤞🤞🤞

Do You Outline: Yes. I didn’t use to, but now I do. It makes things soooooo much easier (and more consistent, which I confess is A Thing I Care About) when you map out beforehand the character bios and motivations and the major plot points. It doesn’t mean there isn’t still room for flexibility but I like knowing where I’m going with a story. It also makes the writing part easier because when you have all that fixed in your head the characters’ voices speak more clearly and things like description flow more naturally. At least, that's what works for me.

Coming Soon/ Not Yet Started:

CSRR (role reversal) drops in EXACTLY ONE WEEK (eek!). I had a gorgeous picset by @hollyethecurious to work with, and I... did a thing with it. We’ll see how well that thing goes down with all of you.

FIC NOIR (working title), a take on the detective/noir/murder mystery trope based loose-ish-ly on the movie Laura. TBH I am nervous about this too because it’s SUCH a departure from my usual style, but @thisonesatellite in her infinite wisdom insists that it won't be terrible. And also it is a birthday fic for someone who I think will like it.

bookstore witch (also working title) based on something @katie-dub sent me which has lodged in my brain like one of those worms and won’t be budged. IT SHALL ALSO BE A BIRTHDAY FIC.

The Very Witching Time sequel, which I’m doing for @cssns. Both excited and apprehensive to dive back into that verse.

AND FINALLY a modern AU in which Killian and Emma meet when he’s still with Milah and he chooses to be with Emma. Spawned from discord discussions and bequeathed by @artistic-writer. This one is already plotted and backstoried and plans to be written probably September-ish. It’s gonna be an angst-fest.

Do You Accept Prompts: I don’t not accept them, but I also don’t promise to write them. Unless they GRIP MY BRAIN like the one Katie sent.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Right now, bookstore witch and FIC NOIR. Because they are already a little bit started so I have the Ideas in place.

@shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @katie-dub @mahstatins and @optomisticgirl if you haven’t already done this I would love to see what you’ve got.

#author interview #2.0 #asked and answered #ask games #profdanglaisstuff

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darkerdeariegold · 4 years

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So, I need advice on how to play Rumple. IDK I’ve had my confidence in how I play him shaken because it feels like I need to justify WHO he is as a character right now a little too much.

I mean, this is how I see him and if you’ve got the patience to read it, thank you. But primarily I’m looking for feedback. For people to tell me if I’ve completely misunderstood the character I’ve felt closest to since day one. Because honestly, if I don’t KNOW him, then who the fuck does, right?

He wasn’t always after power. That’s my primary thing. When you look at young Rumple all he wanted was his Papa to love him. He grew up neglected, emotionally abused and then was abandoned FOR power. For me, that was the start of a very skewed relationship with power itself, but it didn’t make it his automatic driving point.

Growing up he was content with the small things, as we see. He was content to just be around his Dad and, when with the Spinsters, he thrived when he was getting praise for his natural spinning skills. Growing in to a man there was no indication that he wanted power; far from it, actually. He was happily married, settled in to a typically feminine job of spinner and doing all he could to provide for the woman he loved. He was just living his life like a normal man.

Then comes the battlefield and the things the seer told him. Now, people can say he was selfish in wanting to get out of battle but he was THERE. He was afraid, but he was there. He made no efforts to actually run from battle, instead accepting that he would likely die the next day, UNTIL the seer told him about him about to be a Father. Back comes rushing all of the ways he felt about his own Papa and how he was abandoned. The pain, the feelings of not being worthy. For me, injuring his leg so he survived and hobbling miles home (humiliated and called a coward) was a selfless act. He made that choice not for himself but for his son. He will have known that he would be considered a coward. Perhaps even known Milah would be angry that he’d brought that shame on them. But he was willing to shoulder that so his son wouldn’t grow up without a Father like he did. So his son would grow up knowing he was loved by the man that was meant to do anything for him. Which he quite literally did.

He even bargained away any future hope of adding to his family in order to save Bae. Was that impulsive? Yes. Was it selfish? Yes. But it came from a desperate man doing desperate things. Desperate is a theme we see running through his character right from day one. He’s desperate for love, desperate to be a Father, desperate to do right by his boy. So desperate that he constantly self sabotages himself because he doesn’t fully think through the consequences or, when he does, decides to take on the negative consequences for that one positive.

He even shouldered the pain of Milah walking out on them so his son could grow up never feeling abandoned like he had done. He was selfless time and time again. What would his son care about his humiliation at being left? He wouldn’t. So telling Bae that Milah was dead wasn’t to spare himself, it was to spare his son’s feelings.

He even took the Darkness on for his son. The very quotes state that he tells his son to imagine what he could do with that power, how he could protect him. How he could save ALL of the children. Not saying the power aspect wasn’t tempting but to pretend that his motivation wasn’t skewed more in favour of actually saving his son’s life is to not understand his character at all.

When Bae used the dagger to control him what did he do? He wiped his son’s memories of it and let his son believe he was a monster, all to save his own heart from darkness. That’s not selfish, that’s selfless. Even with the darkness he was still putting his son first.

Then comes when he fucked it up; letting go of his son’s hand in his moment of weakness. He had the taste of power then, he knew that he was a more formidable man now than he had ever been before. He could walk properly! He could provide for his son! He could have anything he wanted without the struggle. People came to HIM for deals, people knew he was capable. He’d gone from being mocked for being a coward and a cripple to being feared for his power. That’s addictive and heady for anyone to handle. What he did in letting go of Bae was his first real selfish act and it was a shitty thing to do. Something he immediately regretted but there went his impulsive nature again; acting sometimes before truly looking at the consequences.

What appears to be at least a hundred to two hundred years pass by and he dedicates himself to finding a way to find his son. He even manages to confront his own Mother during that period, showing his own fears and pains when it comes to being abandoned. Pan had done it and so had Fiona; Rumple was damaged by it and by abandoning his own son like he had done was damaged further. He sacrificed his chance at true love to find his son; he did it in a cowardly way, but that’s the root of who he is in the end. He’s vulnerable and he’s afraid, and the darkness gives him a shield from all of that.

When he did let his guard down with Cora she only broke his heart and tricked him; to him being vulnerable is a weakness, yet when it comes to love it’s one he can’t help. IE when he’s reunited with Belle he doesn’t hesitate in telling her he loves her because his initial impulsive reaction to shoo her away so he can find his son (without even contemplating that he could balance both if he just learned to trust her) was the wrong thing.

He learns from his mistakes. Maybe not immediately, and he damn sure repeats some of them but he does learn. He’s not JUST a power hungry, selfish assholes. Jesus, the man DIED to save his son and Belle. (and the rest of the townsfolk but that was just collateral).

See, I think he’s very much an introvert with extrovert qualities because of the darkness. I think the Darkness is his mask, his way of hiding those introverted qualities that make him feel insecure and less than and he uses the darkness as a way of being what he thinks is an untouchable force. But I look at him and I see those introverted qualities because I have them too. Only trusting and caring for a handful of people but boy when he does, he does with his whole heart. He has little hobbies, has an addictive personality and tends to hyper-fixate on things.

Zelena - I fully believe she was indeed in love with him and he knew it too. He needed someone to sacrifice who they loved for his curse which is why he cast her aside. No point being the one she loves and who needs to die for the curse he needs! What he did to her was cruel, but I also fully believe that when she had him captive she abused him physically, emotionally, mentally and sexually. You see that from how he recoils from people’s touch after that, how he genuinely seems afraid when people are in his personal space. He was reduced to a shell of himself by her which is why he acted out after it, did the shitty things he did and power grabbed. Because the moment power is taken from him, he’s hurt. The moment someone sees a weakness in him, he’s hurt. So to Rumple, psychologically I think for him power isn’t just for the sake of power. Power is to keep safe. Power is to make sure nobody can hurt him.

We do see further hints of how he’s capable of being a hero and selfless though when he is willing to fight a damned bear (Merida) to protect Belle. Armed with nothing, with his limp too, he’s willing to die to save her. Again. Don’t tell me those are the actions of a selfish man. Don’t tell me that he’s JUST a power hungry asshole because he is so much deeper than that.

When he finally (and I’m skipping through a lot of the show because shit man they kept going back and forth with him at one point which is basically a mix of bad writing and Rumple being damaged and desperate) had his chance at being a Papa again Belle decided to listen to whatever the fuck was going on with Gideon and was going to keep him from his own son. His actions with keeping her on the boat and the bracelet were not appropriate, no. They were however his way of trying to get control back. Of trying to have this second chance that he was so desperate to have. He’s a Papa, and when he’s good at it, he’s GOOD at it. That season was a clusterfuck of bad writing though because Belle was wildly ooc at times (befriending her husbands abuser?!?!).

ANYWAY. What I’m trying to essentially say is that how I play him is how I see him. He makes mistakes, he doesn’t like a lot of people and that Darkness (as we saw with Emma) is a corruption that you have to be mentally strong to overcome. He controlled it. He didn’t try to kill everyone with it like Hook did, did he? He’s not quite as weak as everyone says, nor is he as villainous as some want to just pigeonhole him to be. I play him as a man that’s capable of enormous amounts of love, is very much ‘ride or die’ and will threaten to cut you if you so much as look at the woman he loves the wrong way. He’s a dedicated if overbearing Papa. But he’s also impulsive, he also is selfish and he also feels like he needs the power of the Dark One to be safe and strong. He doesn’t seem to see his own natural strength and courage and instead relies on shows of power, schemes and plots. He can be underhanded, he can be even downright cruel to the right people. He is vengeful, he is broken and he is a goddamn hero in his own way. He is sarcastic and sharp, he is humble in some ways and absolutely egotistical in others. He is abused, he has been abandoned and he has been a lousy parent at times.

What I want to know, please, is if people see him differently and if I need to be playing him differently? I don’t want to do an injustice to a character that means the absolute world to me. An ask, anonymous if you want, would really be appreciated. Thank you if you read my ramblings this far and thank you for any advice and tips you can send my way.

#ooc #so i guess i'm just a little insecure today....

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

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Self-Promo Sunday: Labyrinth

As I’m weeding out my obnoxious amount of fics on Ao3, the first ones I’m deleting are ones like this that were originally speculation fics that canon has now blown out of the water. Even though I knew this spec fic would never actually happen since it closely follows the plot of a Smallville episode by the same name. This was also written before we knew Colin would be playing Wish!Hook. I loved making the creepy pic set for this, which ended up being pretty perfect for Halloween week. I also was struck by how much Andrew J West and Colin look alike. This is a Captain Cobra fic all the way with adult Henry, so that realization gave me massive feels.

Many are a little sad that I’m deleting some of my fics on Ao3, but just remember that they will now be here on tumblr as well! This just means that new readers finding my fics on Ao3 won’t be so overwhelmed and my very best ones will be easier to find.

Summary: One moment, a curse is bearing down on him, and the next Killian Jones wakes up in a mental hospital. They say every thing he has ever known to be true is a fantasy. But surely that's part of the curse . . . right? Inspired by the Smallville episode of the same name. No need to have watched Smallville to get this story. However, there are some fun easter eggs for Smallville fans.

Rating: G

Also on Ao3 until 11 / 3 / 2019

Tagging the usuals:@snowbellewells @kmomof4@jennjenn615 @kday426 @let-it-raines @teamhook@kmomof4 @bethacaciakay @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @tiganasummertree@whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @distant-rose@shireness-says @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @branlovestowrite @welllpthisishappening @stahlop

Killian Jones smiled as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips, gazing out of the bay windows to the view of the sea. He could hear Emma’s footsteps above him as she padded across the nursery on the second floor. Through the baby monitor on the coffee table, he could hear her coo a good morning to the baby. His smile widened when little Chloe babbled a response. The voices of the two lasses he loved most in this world quieted on the monitor as the rocking chair began to squeak. In his mind’s eyes, he could see Emma holding Chloe to her breast as she nursed her, rocking slowly back and forth. She would smile down at their wee one, touching a finger lightly against the baby’s soft cheek.

The family’s golden retriever bounded down the stairs, its claws click-clacking on the hard wood floor. The dog nuzzled against Killian’s hook, giving the cool steel a lick.

“Morning, Shelby,” Killian chuckled, giving the dog a pat of greeting.

The dog sat on her haunches, contently waiting by Killian’s side for him to finish his morning coffee. She waited there patiently, and then Killian would rinse out his mug and fill her bowl with kibble. It was their daily routine.

But suddenly Shelby whimpered, turning her head towards the front door. She rose onto all fours, fur bristling as she stalked forward. She stopped directly in front of the door and let out a low, deep growl. Killian arched a brow.

“What is it, girl? You hear something I don’t?”

Killian set his mug on the coffee table and went to the dog who was now scratching at the door, whimpering once again. Killian opened it, and Shelby bounded on to the front porch, barking wildly. Killian stepped out cautiously, hook raised. He had a bad feeling about this. He strode to the top of the porch steps, his eyes widening as he saw what was barreling down the street straight for the house. He turned and raced back inside.

“Emma!” he screamed.

His wife was at the top of the steps, clutching the baby in her arms. Chloe was wailing, her cries different than any Killian had heard before. Cries of fear.

“Killian! Behind you!” Emma screamed.

He turned as the billow of crackling smoke poured through the front door. This curse was different than all the rest, pounding against him like a physical force. With the names of his wife and daughter on his lips, Killian fell backwards, his head smashing against the floor.

*************************************************************

Still on his back, Killian’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked at the harsh fluorescent light swinging overhead. Two men he didn’t recognize were leaning over him. One had a round face, soft with fat and sprinkled with red facial hair. The other had a long, thin face and large ears. Both had dull, unfocused eyes and laughed maniacally.

“Did the curse get you?” chuckled the chubby one.

“Yeah,” the other one said, giving a high-pitched giggle, “which realm did you wake up in?”

Killian sat up, utterly confused, to find himself on a cold, linoleum floor surrounded by a group dressed in white. They were seated in folding chairs in a circle around him. Killian scrambled to his feet, taking in the room. This made no sense. It was a large, colorless room. Industrial, with bars on the windows. Everyone was dressed in plain white pants and shirts. Kilian looked down. Including him.

“Where am I?” he muttered. “Where are Emma and Chloe?”

“Gentleman please sit,” a cultured voice asked gently, and the two men shuffled to chairs and dutifully sat. Killian refused.

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, Captain Hook,” the man with the red beard chuckled, “but this ain’t the Jolly Roger!”

The man’s words rose in hysterical volume as he spoke, and the others in the circle joined in his laughter.

“What realm am I in?” Killian roared, “What did this curse do?”

“Which curse,” giggled the thin one, “the one that the Queen of Hearts protected you from? Or the one you cast when you were a dark one?” The man used air quotes around the final title.

“Oh, oh, I know,” the chubby one squealed, clapping his hands, “it was the one that separated him from his true love.”

Killian’s anger rose as a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to a man with a white beard, dressed in a tweed suit. “Killian,” he said softly, “why don’t you sit back down.”

Killian stumbled away from him, “What happened to me? Who are you?”

The man raised his hands in supplication as if Killian were a wild colt who might kick him in the head. “I’m Dr. Hudson. You were just telling us about your dog barking and the smoke coming. Then you blacked out for a minute.”

Killian noted the man giving an almost imperceptible nod over Killian’s left shoulder. He whirled instinctively as two muscular orderlies stepped forward. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he warned, lifting his hook aloft. Then he started. There was no hook at the end of his left arm. Just a stump of flesh. Not even the end of his brace. Just a scared, mutilated stump. Fairly fresh, like the days and weeks right after Milah’s demise.

“No,” he gasped in a shuddered breath.

When the orderlies grasped him by the arms, he fought, or tried to. Tried to think of Emma and Chloe and the fact that he needed to find them before something horrible happened. But in his haze of confusion, his reflexes just weren’t what they should have been. And soon he was being dragged down a sterile hallway and thrown into a padded cell.

*******************************************************

Killian was pacing his cell when a face appeared in the tiny barred window in the center of his door. He commanded that Killian step back. Killian obeyed, but planted his feet in readiness. When the orderly stepped through, Killian charged. The man easily tossed him across the floor, and Killian groaned. His body felt so sluggish. As if he had been asleep for a century. Dr. Hudson strode through the room shaking his head. He gestured to two more orderlies, and before Killian knew what was happening, they had him in a strait jacket and seated in a chair. Dr. Hudson paced in front of him.

“Killian,” the doctor sighed as he wiped his glasses on a handkerchief from his pocket, “you really must stop all this fighting. Let me help you.”

Killian jerked against his bonds, “Where is my family?”

The doctor sighed, then in resignation set a manila folder on the table before Killian. He took out a photograph and help it up for Killian to see. Killian’s vision blurred with tears to see the smiling faces of his wife and daughter. But then he shook his head. The photo was one of those cheesy ones taken in a studio at a department store, with the three of them seated together with Killian’s hand resting awkwardly on Emma’s shoulder. The kind Emma always made jokes about. The photos in their home were all candid shots. He narrowed his eyes as he looked closer – and that was his left hand.

“That picture is fake.”

“No,” the doctor said softly, “it isn’t.”

He pulled another item from the file – a newspaper clipping. The headline read, “Young Mother and Infant Die in Fatal Crash.” Killian leaned over it, confusion marring his brow. There was a picture of a car wrapped around a tree and a smaller photograph of a laughing Emma blowing a kiss onto Chloe’s cheek.

“No,” Killian argued, shaking his head, “that never happened. It was morning. We were all just waking up, and the curse came –“

“Killian,” the doctor interrupted, splaying his hands across the top of the table, “you must pull yourself out of this fantasy world you’ve created. Your wife and daughter were killed, and you lost your hand. Ever since, you’ve been in this mental hospital, thinking you’re Captain Hook and everyone you know and love are story book characters.”

“I’m not crazy!” Killian cried out, wincing when he realized his voice sounded exactly that.

The doctor stood and strode to the sink in the corner of the room. He picked something up as he spoke, “Your wife wasn’t Emma Swan, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.”

He turned and in his hand was a bottle of hand soap – “Swan Soap” it said on the bottle. He walked across the room and set the bottle on the table. Killian blinked as he stared at it, his mind flipping over.

Dr. Hudson resumed his seat across from Killian. “Her name was Emma Nolan, before she married you, and her parents were two ordinary people named David and Mary Margaret Nolan.”

“What about Henry?”

The doctor smiled. “You mean Henry Mills? Our janitor?”

The doctor gazed at Killian intently with hazel eyes that seemed to swirl with multiple colors. The room seemed to spin and Killian felt suddenly dizzy. Then there was a knock at the door, and Killian jerked as if suddenly awakened from a dream. A nurse bustled in with a clipboard in her hand. The doctor scribbled something, and the nurse glanced hesitantly at Killian with the same look he had seen on the face of all the orderlies. A look of fear and disgust. Killian blinked when he saw the nurse’s nametag – Regina.

“You see, Killian,” the doctor continued, standing to his feet as the nurse left, “you’ve taken bits and pieces of the things around you to create this fantasy of yours. But it isn’t real. Your wife and child are not out there waiting to be rescued. They’re dead.” Dr. Hudson reached under Killian’s mattress, pulling out a well-worn book. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can get well.”

He tossed the slender volume onto the table before Killian and left. It was a copy of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.

*******************************************************

Killian shuffled forward in the medication line, feeling a hopelessness he hadn’t felt since the days of seeking revenge against the Crocodile. If those days were even real. Killian wasn’t sure any more. At least now he was out of the strait jacket. He had decided to at least play nice.

“Don’t take the medicine they give you,” hissed a voice behind him.

Killian ignored it. If he wasn’t crazy, everyone else here was. Best to keep a low profile and ignore the other patients.

“You’re not crazy – Hook,” the person continued.

There was something about the voice that sounded clearer, more steady than the voices of the other patients. He turned tentatively to see a young man in his twenties with brown hair and eyes smiling at him. Something about the face seemed familiar to him. He narrowed his eyes to study the man more closely.

“Henry?” he said tentatively.

The young man’s eyes lit up, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here to rescue you.”

Killian shook his head to clear it, trying to process this latest development. He had looked in the mirror since waking up in this place, and he could clearly see he hadn’t aged at all. How was Henry . . .

Before he could complete that thought, two orderlies came up behind Henry and grabbed him. “Believe in yourself!” Henry shouted before the men jabbed a syringe into his neck. They then dragged him through a heavy, locked door. It all happened so fast, Killian was rooted in place for a moment.

Then suddenly, Henry’s words surged through him. Believe in yourself! He wasn’t crazy, and he wasn’t weak. He was pirate Captain Killian “Hook” Jones, and his family needed him. He scanned the room as he stepped out of the medicine line. He saw a janitor unlocking the supply closet with a huge ring of keys. He grinned to himself in delight as he remembered all the times he had watched Star Wars with Henry. He couldn’t do the Wookie prisoner gag alone, but he could at least pose as a Stormtrooper . . .

**************************************************

Killian stumbled across the snow with Henry leaning heavily against his shoulder. Not only had they heavily drugged the lad, but they had also beat him pretty severely. Henry had a gash across his forehead that was currently trickling blood down the sleeve of the janitor’s uniform Killian was wearing. And based on the way he kept wincing and holding his side, Killian was pretty sure Henry also had a few cracked ribs.

Shouts sounded behind them, and Killian knew the hospital guards were gaining fast. He didn’t know why his body was so weak, but it was, and the added weight of his boy didn’t help. Killian prayed to whatever gods would listen for intervention. They needed a miracle.

Suddenly, a sedan spun to a stop in front of them, tires squealing. The back door opened, and a dark-haired little girl leaned out. “Hurry! Get in!” she cried.

“Lucy,” Henry groaned, his voice laced with affection. Whoever this little girl was, apparently, they could trust her. And, Killian hoped, whoever was driving.

Killian shoved Henry into the backseat as gently as he could under the circumstances, then slid in himself. The driver turned to face him, her familiar penciled eyebrows arched and a half smile on her lips.

“Good to see you again, pirate.”

“Regina?”

“Um, can everyone catch up later?” the little girl interrupted. “Cause those guys have guns.”

She didn’t have to tell Regina twice. The queen put the petal to the metal just as shots rang out. She flew through the gates of Dreamshade Mental Hospital – Killian rolled his eyes at the irony – and turned on two wheels onto a residential street. Then she sighed and visibly deflated. For the first time, Killian noticed the head of gray hair in the front passenger seat. He groaned when the passenger himself turned to glare at him.

“I believe a thank you is in order for rescuing you, Captain.”

“Thanks, Crocodile,” Killian bit out through clenched teeth.

“Calm down, Captain Guyliner,” Regina grumbled, “at least you didn’t wake up thinking you were married to him.”

Killian couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face, and an awkward silence descended. The little girl – Lucy - wrapped her arm around his left bicep and leaned into him. He started a bit at the sudden affection.

“Grandpa!” she enthused. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Grandpa?” Killian’s eyes shifted to Henry in surprise.

“Yes,” Henry chuckled, then winced at the pain in his ribs, “she’s my daughter. Let’s just say I was up to more in the Enchanted Forest than just looking for a way to break this current curse. Good things happened to.”

Killian noted the obvious affection in Henry’s voice and the tenderness in his gaze. Killian looked down at Lucy, who still clutched his arm and beamed up at him. How could you love someone so much whom you just met? The thought immediately took his mind to his own daughter. He swallowed thickly as he regarded Lucy.

“How old are you?”

“Ten.”

Killian closed his eyes, immediate pain washing over him. “I missed it,” he choked out. “My baby girl. I missed everything.”

“No, you didn’t, Killian,” Regina assured him. The words were a balm to his wounded heart. Regina only used his name when she was completely sincere.

Henry struggled to sit up as he addressed Killian, “Don’t worry, Dad. Mom and my little sister are exactly as they were when you last saw them.”

“Where are they?” Killian asked, his nerves sparking in agitation to do something.

“A place that isn’t easy to get to,” Rumpelstiltskin explained with vehemence in his voice, “but believe me, we will get back those we love. No matter the cost.”

Lucy picked up a duffel bag from the floor and handed it to Killian with a huge grin on her face. “I thought you might be missing this.”

He opened it to find his brace and his hook. He turned to Lucy and smiled, placing a kiss to her temple. “Thank you, lass.”

“Killian, do you remember all those times you whined about your true love kisses never working?” Regina quipped as she pressed harder on the gas. “Well, pucker up, pirate. Because your lips are our only hope.”

#cs ff #self promo sunday #labyrinth #cs spec fic #season 7 spec fic #smallville references

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blessed-but-distressed · 5 years

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#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

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also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Hope you packed your crash helmets. This is a bumpy ride. Eternal thanks to @fraddit for holding my hand as I put this together. Maybe it’s not ready yet, but it’s spent enough time living rent-free in my head.

***

Killian

August W. Booth. Killian would never admit it, but he knew the name, even before Emma Swan had tumbled into his life. He’d remembered seeing it grace the spine of a book on the shelf of his old flat, back in London. He’d remembered asking Milah about it, and he remembered her non-committal response.

“It’s alright,” she’d said, flopping down onto the bed beside him. “If you’re into Americans who read too much Kafka travelling the world to ‘find themselves’.” She’d even done the air quotes, and he’d smiled at her honesty.

And in the months after she was gone, and he was left with nothing but her meagre possessions, he’d picked it up and read it cover to cover, in an effort to be closer to her.

But it really was just a book.

Killian didn’t want to ‘find himself’ on a Thai beach. Or follow in the footsteps of obscure European authors. Or even consume a questionable amount of hallucinogens. He had just wanted to wake up in a world where Milah still slept soundly beside him.

He’d donated the book to a charity shop on Camden High Street, along with most of Milah’s clothes.

He’d never imagined he’d meet the author. Or that he’d kind of hate him.

How to describe that first moment with August W. Booth? At first, Emma had been beside him, her hand held tight to his sleeve as they waded into the party throng. And then, with something that sounded like a choked sob, she was gone.

It was only when the crowd parted that he saw the spectacle for himself. Emma Swan, laughing. Damn near hysterical laughing, having launched herself at this bearded bloke in cable knit jumper. He’d barely caught her, but he had, even if he’d knocked over his beer in the process.

“Emma Swan, as I live and breathe!” The man, August, had declared, lifting her off her feet. “Have you gained weight?”

She smacked him on the shoulder, but her smile was still beatific, even as he set her back down. Killian had never seen that smile. Not once.

“Lost it, actually. Didn’t you hear? I run now. Like, habitually.”

“Now I come to think of it, Ruby did say something about that. But I assumed she was joking.”

Another smack. Another round of smiles as they talked over each other, trying to make up for lost time.

Killian was not a wallflower by nature, but something about the ready intimacy of their chatter kept him on the periphery, hovering awkwardly by a potted palm he highly suspected to be fake. He was just reaching out his hand to check when he felt a tug on his prosthetic.

She was dressed like Hilary Clinton, her blonde wig drunkenly askew. “Why’s your hand made of plastic?” she asked with all the tact of someone six vodka cranberries deep. “It is real? That’s sooo weird. Did you have some, like, terrible accident?”

Her accent was American, but much more the bubbly Southern Californian version than the one he was used to. He didn’t find it endearing.

“Hilary!” he greeted her with a forced smile, snatching his prosthetic back from her grasp. “Long time no see. How’s Bill? Still a complete cad?”

Her face was a picture of confusion. “My name is Hadley?” She looked down at her pantsuit, and then it seemed to dawn on her. “This is just a costume,” she explained slowly. “You know, for the party?”

“You don’t say! My apologies, Hadley. I mistook you for a woman of substance.”

It was not the most gentlemanly brushoff, but it did the trick.

Hadley squinted up at him for a few long moments, before tipping the rest of her drink down his front. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

He was, and he did. And thanks to her dramatics, the rest of the room were fast becoming aware of the fact too, even as her (seventh?) vodka cranberry seeped miserably into his shirt. He looked up just in time to catch Emma’s raised eyebrows as she approached, August following in her wake.

“Uh, do I want to know what you said to Hilary to piss her off?” she asked.

“Nothing she hadn’t already heard on the campaign trail,” Killian muttered, fanning his shirt away from where it was sticking fast to his chest. “I don’t know what it is about this party, Swan, but it doesn’t much approve of our outfits.”

Emma opened her mouth to retort, when a hand suddenly appeared in front of Killian’s face, attached to a weaselly-looking novelist.

“August Booth. You must be the Graham Humbert I’ve heard so much about?”

And he thought having a drink thrown over him would be the most aggrieving event of the evening.

“Killian Jones,” he corrected, delivering a slightly firmer handshake than necessary. “And I’m leaving.”

***

I feel like that could’ve gone better. ES

Are you okay? ES

Jones? ES

I’ve had worse things thrown at me than a girly cocktail, Swan. I dare say I’ll survive. KJ

Probably. But that’s not what I meant. ES

You should probably get back to your surprise visitor. He came a long way to see you. KJ

August is big boy. He can handle himself for a few minutes. Are you at home? ES

No. KJ

So you’re walking around at large with a huge purple stain down your shirt? ES

Apparently so. KJ

That’s not weird at all. ES

How fortuitous then, that I’m not your problem. KJ

Wow. Okay. I guess you’re not. Fuck you very much. ES

***

It was a foolish idea. He had reminders set on his phone that pinged at regular intervals to remind him of exactly how foolish an idea it was. And yet, there he was anyway. Half a bottle of Captain Morgan later, standing outside Tink’s building in Newington, leaning on the buzzer.

The intercom chirruped into life. “If you don’t have a pizza, I don’t know you.”

He grinned, and leaned close to the speaker. “Margherita Cheese, extra olives.”

There was a pregnant pause. And then the front door buzzed open.

It wasn’t terribly late, by their usual standards. Barely past sunset, now they weren’t long past the solstice. And yet when Tink opened the door she was definitely wearing pyjamas. The kind one actually slept in, rather than entertained in.

Not that she seemed to care either way, tearing the pizza box from his hands with barely more than a nod in his direction. He followed her in anyway, and sat in her kitchen as she devoured half of it before coming up for air.

“Hungry?” he teased.

“My flatmate has us all on the Keto diet,” she shrugged by way of explanation. “It’s been hell. You know how many Greggs franchises I have to walk past on my way to work? It was only a matter of time until I cracked. But I’m glad it was you,” she crooned to the last of her pizza. “You were worth the wait.”

“I can’t decide if this is pathetic or adorable,” Killian mused.

“Definitely pathetic,” Tink declared, closing the box at last. “But you’re one to talk. You look rough as guts. And what did you get all over your shirt?”

He knew he should’ve stopped home to change first.

“Vodka cranberry, I believe.”

“Ooh,” she said, folding her hands under her chin. “The plot thickens. A deliberate attack?”

“It... may have been.”

She snorted. “You always know how to charm a lady, Jones. Until you don’t.”

“You never seemed to mind,” he reminded her, with a sly smile in her direction.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged, before hooking a thumb in her direction. “Pathetic, remember?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said silky, letting his hand come to rest on hers. “In fact, I seem to recall a rather impressive list of talents…”

Tink slid her hand out from under his, to slap herself in the forehead. “So that’s what you’re doing here! It all makes sense now. You’ve had a shit night, and now you thought you’d show up, and what? I’d take you into my bedroom and help you forget all about it?”

“No, I just-”

“Just thought I was your standby girl. And I get it. I really do. Lord knows, I played the part enough times. But, honestly, Killian, wouldn’t you rather be with someone you’re actually crazy about? Like, oh, I don’t know...” She tapped her chin meaningfully, “...Emma?”

Something inside of him constricted at the sound of her name on Tink’s lips, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t want to think about her, or any of it. To hell with them.

“Who’s Emma?” he replied, leaning in again. “All I see is you.”

He saw the slap coming, but his reactions weren’t what they were.

“Hey, you know we’re friends, right?” she said, her words a direct contradiction to the stinging of his cheek. “I know we made a mess of things, but I thought we could still talk to each other. What’s going on? Because you’re not here because you find me completely irresistible.”

“Don’t I, love?”

It was a last ditch effort, but she wasn’t buying it.

“No, you don’t.” She sounded a little sad when she said it. “So start talking, or your drunken arse is getting an Uber. And you can start with what happened with Emma.”

“Nothing happened with Emma,” Killian muttered, looking around her kitchen for a possible source of alcohol. Any alcohol. So consumed was he by the search he didn’t catch Tink spiriting his phone from his pocket until she was already back in her chair again, scouring through his latest messages.

He really should’ve changed his passcode months ago.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I stand corrected,” she said, sliding it back across the table towards him with a roll of her eyes. “Nothing happened at all.”

Anger flaring, he snatched it back. “That’s really none of your business, love.”

“It is when you’re sitting in my kitchen, smelling like a distillery, and looking to use my body to distract you from your problems.”

God, he really was an arsehole. No wonder everyone he knew despised him. At last his eyes alighted on a stoppered bottle of brown liquid tucked away on top of the fridge. He stood up to retrieve it, and removed the stopper with his teeth.

He ducked down to take a whiff. Brandy. Perfect.

He found a pair of relatively clean glasses in the dish rack, and poured a generous measure into each.

“Peace offering?” he asked, slinging one of them in Tink’s direction.

Her glower didn’t abate any, but she accepted the glass anyway, wincing as her first sip hit her tongue.

“Needs water,” she said, handing it back with a cough.

Killian dutifully filled it up from the tap, and returned to his old place at the table. Just his performing this small act seemed to soften her somewhat, because the anger faded from her eyes.

“Look, maybe I’m wrong, but I’m trying a new thing. It’s called: ‘I only sleep with guys who are actually into me.’ And you know what? It’s going pretty good. I don’t wake up feeling like shit all the time.”

There was a novel concept.

“I’ve been an arsehole,” Killian summed up.

“Sometimes,” Tink agreed, with a comforting pat to his shoulder. “But I knew what your deal was. You get into bed with a guy with a missing hand and another girl’s name tattooed on his arm, you don’t really expect it’ll work out long-term.”

Now it was his turn to snort. “Aye, I suppose I deserved that.”

“You did,” she said, with an unapologetic grin. “But it’s okay. We were both just biding our time. Me until I grew some self-esteem, and you until your heart healed over a little.”

He wondered if it had. The wounds had been there so long, cut so deep, he rarely pressed them anymore. Rarely tested the strength of the scar tissue that had grown in their place.

“Well then,” he said, raising his glass. “To your self-esteem.”

Their glasses clinked, and he took his first sip. The brandy was thick across his tongue, but warming. A little burst of liquid courage to ask the question he’d been turning over and over in his mind since he’d glanced into Emma’s eyes on that settee, and felt things start to shift.

“You ever feel like there’s some things you just can’t get away from, no matter how hard you try?” he asked.

“My parents named me Tinker Bell. What do you think?” she replied, deadpan.

“Fair point,” he conceded, suddenly wishing he’d never opened his fool bloody mouth.

Unfortunately, Tink was not a mind reader and she didn’t let it go. “Are you talking about Milah?”

It had been so long since anyone had said her name aloud, he couldn’t entirely stop himself from flinching.

“Yes. No.” He shook his head. “Not entirely. I just… I’m not sure there’s ever really any overcoming the fundamental truths of our past.”

“Fundamental truths?” she asked, confused. “Like what?”

“Like, for example,” he began, wetting his lips with another syrupy slug of Brandy. “Everything my brother has ever done in his life has been to distance himself from our father. He’s got the upstanding, family man bit down. He’s a card-carrying member of the bourgeoisie. But when push comes to shove, they still made the exact same mistakes.”

She cocked her head to the side, considering this. “I mean, there’s a genetic component to addiction. And idiocy, arguably. But I don’t believe in that ‘sins of the father’ bullshit. You are who you make yourself into. I’m not saying it’s easy to break the pattern, but it’s doable.”

Killian wanted to believe that. But he wasn’t so sure he did.

“I couldn’t,” he pointed out. “When I lost Milah, I-” The rum in his stomach roiled, and he wondered if he was going to throw up. He wondered how long it would take for Tink to throw him out after. But after a moment, the feeling passed, and he realised she was still waiting for him to finish his thought. “I… I was no different,” he finished, feeling foolish.

“So you lost someone who mattered to you, and you handled it badly?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t make you your Dad. It makes you a person with a heartbeat.”

Killian stretched his prosthetic out on the table in front of him, considering the shiny piece of hardware. His most expensive souvenir from the shortest trip he’d ever taken.

“It’s not a liability, you know,” Tink said gently, nudging his prosthesis with her glass. “The hand. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

It was. And it wasn’t. Drunken Hilary’s ill-timed comments had certainly hit their mark, but it wasn’t just the hand. It was what it represented. The very permanent reminder that he was no longer entirely whole.

Most days, he was fine with that. It was much the same as his tattoo. He liked having that proof. However tenuous. However painful. It was a tether to a time he’d been truly happy, and it was a comfort to him, to know he hadn’t imagined it.

Lately, he’d begun to wonder if he’d held on too long.

Tink had said so herself, they’d never stood a chance. That hadn’t bothered him so much before, because he hadn’t really been looking for one. At least, not with Tink.

“I think I fucked up with Emma,” he blurted out.

“Oh, you think?” Tink sneered, downing the last of her glass.

“I… definitely fucked up with Emma,” he agreed, tipping his head back to finish his own drink. It burned, and he let it. He deserved it.

This time it was Tink who reached for the bottle, pouring them another measure each. She didn’t top this one off with water

“To bitchy texts,” she declared, holding her glass aloft. “Ruining everything.”

Killian drank to that.

“So, are we past the denial portion of the evening? You like her, right?” Tink had that twinkle in her eye again. The same one she’d had when she realised the stain on his shirt hadn’t been an accident. Dirt. That was all she wanted.

“I… sometimes.”

Tink rolled her eyes. “Way to commit”

“She’s attractive,” Killian shrugged. “And I find myself... attracted.”

Tink blew a raspberry. “Oh, c’mon. I read your column. You are not subtle. You might as well start drawing ‘KJ 4 ES’ hearts all over your homework.”

“They aren’t that bad,” Killian scoffed.

“Really? Have you read the comment section lately? People ship it!”

“People are little old ladies with too much time to spend on Facebook between soap operas,” Killian responded blithely. “I’m not overly concerned with their opinions.”

“How about mine? I saw you two sing an Elton John medley together, remember? That wasn’t attraction. That was fireworks.”

“It was stage theatrics,” he corrected. “Besides, it doesn’t matter now. She’s not the forgiving type. I’m not getting back in her good graces.”

“So why screw everything up in the first place? Jealousy?”

Yes.

Killian sighed. “A friend of hers is in town.”

“Like a special friend?”

“Like an old friend. Her oldest. She’s different with him. Happier. I’ve never seen her smile so much. I didn’t even know she could.”

“And you wish that was you? Making her happy?”

Yes.

Killian snorted. “She doesn’t want me.”

“How do you know? Did you ask her?”

As if that was something he could casually slip in a conversation somewhere. ‘Here’s your pint.. Oh, by the way, I quite fancy you and I was wondering if you fancy me back?’

“I think you’re forgetting she has already has a suitor.”

“Who? That Grant guy? They’ve been on what? Two dates? Two dates is not a relationship. Even I’ve spent more time with her than that.”

“Her friend certainly seemed to know all about him..” Killian swallowed back the bile in his throat at the thought.

Tink looked skeptical. “I doubt there’s much to know.”

“And I’ll remind you that this is all for naught, since we’ve established that I made a complete tit of myself, and she’s never speaking to me again.”

They both went silent at the thought. Tink refreshed their drinks.

“Well, then,” she said, offering up her glass for another impromptu toast. “Here’s to learning how to grovel.”

***

I’m sorry. I’m a complete arse. KJ

Yep. ES

***

Killian awoke in a strange room, his mouth dry and his virtue intact. It took him a moment of watching the dust motes dance in the shaft of morning light above his head to figure out exactly where he was.

Tink’s flat. It looked different by day. Shabbier. More lived in. He’d ended up on the sofa somehow, alone, twisted up in a crochet blanket into a strange configuration that would give him hell later. He was still wearing all of his clothes. Even the shirt with the cranberry stain down the front.

He could hear a radio somewhere nearby, giving a bleak update on the state of traffic on the City Bypass. Pipes shuddered, and soft feminine whispers punctuated the spaces between. The smell of burnt coffee grounds wafting up from the cafe downstairs, as the city woke to a new day.

He lay his head back down, and scrubbed at his face with his hand.

How many drinks had it been, all told? Eighty? Too many, he admitted to himself, as he surfed an accompanying wave of nausea. It was time to find a new crutch. He wasn’t a student anymore.

“Hey, you’re up.” Tink’s voice was fuel to his headache, but her tone was friendly. He sat up to see her standing in the doorway, holding a giant steaming mug in her hands. The underlying tension of their usual morning after routine was gone. She looked comfortable, in a way he’d rarely seen.

“That for me?” he asked, hopefully.

“It is. Thought it might help with the, ah, sore head.”

It did. From the very first sip, Killian felt the fog in his head clearing, and life returning to his limbs. “Thanks, love.”

She nodded, and stepped back. “I was going to let you sleep, but uh, well… your sister-in-law is here.”

Killian nearly dropped the mug. “Elsa’s here?”

“In the kitchen. She showed up about ten minutes ago. You want me to send her in?”

Elsa. In Tink’s kitchen. Like his life hadn’t been strange enough lately.

“What is she-?”

“She didn’t say. But she-” Tink hesitated. “She looks rough. Kind of upset, you know?”

No, he didn’t know. Elsa was the queen of poise. She rarely let her feelings show, least of all to practical strangers. Was it Liam? The boys? Dammit, where was his phone? Had something happened?

He was already on his feet when Elsa rounded the doorway. And even with the warning, it was still a shock to see her. She did, indeed, look rough. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, her face noticeably puffy. She’d forgone the implacable facade she carried with her into the outside world.

“I’ll just… leave you two alone,” Tink said, backing out of the room.

He took a few steps towards Elsa, and then hesitated. “Is everyone-”

“Everyone’s fine. Alive. Healthy. I promise.” She tried for a reassuring smile, but it did nothing of the sort. “Robin told me you might be here. And I’m really sorry to intrude-”

“Elsa,” he said firmly, grasping her by the shoulders. “You’re never intruding. What’s happened?”

She bit her lip, but a single tear still managed to escape, unbidden, trailing down her fair cheek. “You know, I was beginning to think he was cheating on me?” She rolled her eyes heavenward, like that might stem the tide.

Oh god.

“He’d never.” Coming to Liam’s defence was automatic at this point. A reflex.

“No,” she agreed. “He’ll lie, and he’ll steal, and he’ll gamble, but he won’t cheat.” The sound might’ve been a laugh, if it wasn’t so bitter. So hard. “I know everything. About the money. Weaver. He called me at work, asked after the children. He knew their names. Where they go to school. He even knew the colour of Lachie’s scooter!”

Fear slid into his abdomen like a blade, sharp and cold. “He wouldn’t-”

“He won’t!” Elsa’s eyes flashed defiantly. “I paid him his money. I did everything he asked. Malcolm Weaver has no reason to come near any of us, ever again.”

It was a curious mixture of relief and anxiety, all muddled together, making Killian’s head swim. And somewhere in the mix, guilt. A sense of culpability. “I should’ve told-”

“No,” she said, eyes shining with renewed anger. “My husband should’ve told me. He should’ve trusted me, like I thought I trusted him. And he never should’ve put you in the position of having to lie for him. Or lie to your family. And your eye-”

Her tears were flowing freely now, and Killian’s grip on her arms tightened. “He’s an idiot. And he’s too proud for his own good. But you know he never wanted to hurt you, or disappoint you. You or the boys.”

“I know,” Elsa hiccuped. “But he did. Not because he made a mistake-” She physically swatted the idea away. “We all do that. But because he couldn’t be honest with me. That’s not the marriage I thought I had.”

“Had?” The way she’s said it, it sounded so… final.

Elsa swiped a sleeve across her cheeks, mopping up her tears. “I love him, Killian. You know I love him. But I can’t look at him right now. Anna asked me to stay. I’ll take the boys to New York for the summer. I don’t need them getting caught up in all this.”

“But you are coming back?” The lump in Killian’s throat had nearly doubled. As much as he’d resented being the black sheep in a flock of prize Merinos, he couldn’t quite imagine a life now without them.

Elsa smiled a dim smile. “This is home. And you Jones Boys, you’re home too,” she said, gathering him into a fierce hug. “And you’re always going to be a part of this family, with or without Liam. You know that, don’t you?”

It was an oft-repeated phrase of hers. Always trying to include him. Always trying to set him at ease. But it had never really rung true, before. He’d never been wholly convinced. They were a family, and he was an interloper. A squatter. He’d come to terms with that.

It wasn’t until he found himself crushed under the weight of Elsa’s furious embrace that he finally let himself see it. It wasn’t just Elsa’s bird bones that had a hold on him. It was her affection for him. Her love. The well ran deep, the force more formidable than he would have imagined. A sister’s love.

“Aye,” he said, letting his chin rest atop her shoulder. “I know that.”

They separated a bit, and she smiled her first real smile. “Took you long enough.”

“I’m a Jones,” he shrugged wryly. “We’re not the smartest.”

“No,” Elsa agreed, sweeping his hair from his forehead like he’d watched her do for Lachie and Callum a thousand times. A protective, nurturing gesture. Automatic as breathing. “And what did you do to your shirt?”

***

I am your problem. That is, I wish to be your problem. KJ

I confess: I was an almighty dickhead the other night. And if you don’t forgive me for that, I would understand. KJ

I made you feel as if you weren’t important to me, but that isn’t true. We’re friends. Good friends, I hope. I was angry at so many people that night, but none of them were you. You just got caught in the crossfire, and I can only apologise for that. I would like to do so in person, if you’d permit me. KJ

You give good apology, Killian Jones. But I know how good you are with words. ES

Not good enough, apparently. KJ

You know you made me feel like an idiot, right? For thinking we were friends? ES

We are friends. I’m just a spectacularly bad one, sometimes. I could blame the drink, or the stress of Liam’s secret, or Hilary’s tactless comments about my hand, or August not having a clue who I was, or even how fucking raw I was after sitting on that settee with you. But the truth is, sometimes I’m not quite the man I want to be. KJ

Maybe you don’t want to be friends with someone like that. I wouldn’t blame you. But I also think you understand, perhaps better than anyone, why we push people away without really meaning to. KJ

A little fucked up. A little scared. KJ

I understand. ES

I mean, I’m still kind of pissed. ES

But I get it. ES

Pint? KJ

Busy. I’m babysitting a novelist, remember? They’re very high maintenance. ES

Bring him along. Don’t you think it’s about time he learned of the wonder that is Open Mic Night? They moved it to Friday this week. KJ

Oh no. That can only end in heartbreak. ES

Heartbreak Hotel ;-) KJ.

Maybe next time, Jones. ES

I look forward to it, Swan. KJ

***

Emma and her novelist never made an appearance at Open Mic Night, though Killian spent half the night watching the door anyway. Not the entire night, mind. Robin was being far too entertaining for that.

His bereaved, beloved Robin, who’d taken the stage and was attempting a version of Wild Thing complete with a series of hip gyrations which made Eddie Vedder’s relationship with his microphone stand seem chaste.

A courtship display if Killian had ever seen one. All directed at the brunette in the front row, who looked decidedly more like the university administrator she was than Killian remembered last time he’d seen her. As Wonder Woman. Out of costume, she was better recognised as Regina Mills, University Vice-Chancellor.

Apparently they were dating now. And things were going well.

He could only confess to a little jealousy. Robin, more than anyone he knew, deserved a little happiness. Though when things started to get hot and heavy after Robin’s encore, Killian was only too happy to make his excuses.

***

Returning home to the big empty house in Merchiston brought mixed feelings. Killian still preferred his bed to the medieval torture device which was Tink’s sofa, but there was something unnerving about the place with the boys gone. Without laughter, or chaos, or the 60% chance of treading on a stray Lego brick with your bare feet at any given moment.

He was almost disappointed when he made it down the hallway unscathed in the dark. Right up until the moment he switched on his bedroom light, and found a dark clad figure standing directly before him.

His scream was not particularly masculine. Not as he stumbled backwards, and not as he picked up the nearest object and threw it with all of his might at his would-be attacker.

The boot caught the figure upside the head, hard enough to have him swearing. By the second string of curses, Killian realised his mistake.

“Bloody hell, Liam. Do you have a death wish?” he asked, dropping the second boot and coming to his brother’s side. “I thought I was about to meet my fucking maker.”

“My. Mistake,” Liam ground out through gritted teeth, hands still clutched to his head where Killian had struck his blow. Liam didn’t have to ask who he’d mistaken him for. Even after Elsa’s intervention, the spectre of Weaver’s goons loomed large in their imaginations.

And that’s when he saw it, lying on the rug where it had fallen during their altercation. The Galaxy bar.

Liam’s eyes followed his gaze, crinkling slightly despite his pain. “Happy St Killian’s Day, little brother.”

***

-KJ has sent you a document file-

What’s this? ES

I’m sure even you can recognise a Word document when you see one, Swan. KJ

I mean, why am I getting it? You’ve never sent me a copy of your column before it’s published before. ES

I’m trying something new. It’s called ‘consideration for other people’s feelings’. KJ

Huh. Seems kind of out of character for you. ES

I probably deserved that. KJ

You definitely did. ES

This column touches on some… more sensitive topics. I’d feel more comfortable having your approval before I took it to Liam. Would you please indulge me? KJ

Fiiiine. ES

... ES

Um. Wow. ES

Too personal. Understood. Consider it vanquished. KJ

No! I mean, yeah, it’s personal. But it’s… real. I never really… It’s good, Killian. And if Liam doesn’t have a problem with it, then I don’t have a problem with it. ES

You’re positive? Once I post this, there’s no taking it back. KJ

Positive. ES

As you wish. KJ

#findemmaswanafriend #cs au #cs ff #cs ff au #the long lost return #and a boatload of angst

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