"Step over the city border?" Alice asks, her eyebrows shooting up. Killian is certain his brows do the same as he turns to Regina.
"While he had no memories of you, the poison was idle. If we had magic, we could have removed it back then, but as the saying goes…"
"All magic comes with a price," Weaver finishes her sentence.
"So the poison only works as long as I remember Alice? And if I forget her again…"
"We'll be able to remove it," Regina says. "But unlike Storybrooke, this curse was built differently. There's a small chance we won't be able to give you your memories back."
"You mean never again?" Alice says, and the sadness in her tone breaks Killian's heart all over again. She turns to look at him, standing at the other side of the room. His feet are itching to get close to her. All those years struggling to find ways to talk to each other without touching, and then those weeks in Hyperion Heights with casual, friendly touches but with a fear of opening up to each other…
They could have just hugged. It wouldn't have been the same, not without their memories, but it would've been something.
Regina and Weaver - Weaver, bloody hell - give them time to discuss it.
"Would you risk it?" Alice asks.
"Risk what? Forgetting you and leaving you alone again?"
"You were willing to when you gave the white elephant to Ella."
Killian rubs his forehead with his hand. He says nothing. He knows she's right - he gave up on his own daughter. Sure a little child having her mother shows a good intention, but good intentions don't erase bad memories. He should know.
"Do you want me to do it?" he asks, looking down at his feet.
"I want you back," she says and her voice breaks.
He closes his eyes, fighting back tears. He takes a deep breath. "You'll have Robin, you'll have Henry and Roni… bloody hell, you'll even have Weaver."
"He forced those damn pills on me."
He opens his eyes to look at her with an exasperated, apologizing look. "I am willing to do it," he says. "They've confirmed that it's the only way it could be done. But I won't do it if you don't want me to."
Alice covers her face with her hands. "What are we going to do if they can't bring you back? How will… how will I go on knowing that you're here but you're not?"
"Hey," he says softly and takes one step towards her, cringing when she shifts on her seat. "Rogers had good intentions towards you. He wanted to support you and be your friend."
"My friend." She stares at the floor and shakes her head.
"He wouldn't have found it weird if you'd just hugged him," he says and sits down on a chair closer to hers. He doesn't miss how she still tries to take up as little space as possible.
However, she looks up at him. "And you think I want just a hug? You think that's all I miss from you?"
"No, of course not. I'm saying it… it won't be like I'm dead. I'll still be… somewhere here."
Alice doesn't respond. He doesn't blame her.
"Look, let's just take some days to think about it, alright?"
The more said days pass, the more difficult it gets for him. Alice doesn't reply to his messages, and she won't call him back either.
He lies down on his cold, empty bed, and thinks about the things they won't ever do.
She and Robin are… well, he knows their love is strong, but it's not that Alice always spoke to him about them…
A lone tear escapes his eye at the thought that if they get married, he won't be able to even give her a kiss when she'll leave to start her own family.
When she'll inevitably move on from her old, broken family.
One day, he gets a text message from Alice.
"I had you, and then I almost didn't because we couldn't touch. Then I lost you, and now I almost have you again. I'm tired of that almost. I just want you either fully back or not at all. Let's do it."
"Have hope, love," he tells her.
Alice just nods, her lip gone red from being bitten down.
Killian turns and nods at Regina and Weaver. They've filled him in in the procedure - not that it really matters, since he'll have forgotten everything in a few seconds.
He turns to look at the "Now leaving Seattle" sign. It's only a few steps. He turns to Alice and gives her a weak smile, not missing the tears forming in her eyes and he finally starts walking.
"Ugh."
His hand goes to rub at his forehead. He feels dizzy all of a sudden… and why is everything so loud? Where are all these cars coming from? Why is-
How did he get here?
"Detective Rogers."
He turns at the sound of Weaver's voice.
"Weaver? What… what are you doing here?"
"I suppose I should ask the same of you." Weaver raises his hand, and Rogers can see that he's holding the keys to his Chevelle.
"Wait, what happened?" Rogers says and takes one step forward.
And then it's darkness.
And then it's pain.
A biting, scorching feeling making its way around his chest.
Something hard placed between his teeth.
Someone's hands gripping hard on his head, not allowing him to move it.
Someone's weight on his stomach.
"Get on with it!"
"Shh, he's concentrating…"
He opens his eyes. Amidst the red and the blur, he can see a blond head above him, and a brown one somewhere behind.
The pain worsens, and he screams through the material in his mouth. He feels two hands land softly on his shoulders and the blond head turns towards him.
Bright eyes, and a pained expression.
Tilly?
"It's okay, papa. You'll be okay. You'll be okay."
More pain, and more screaming. He tries to move his head, to release it from the strong grip, but he only manages to turn a little to the side, and see the unmistakable form of Weaver, holding something glowing in his hand. Something… red and green and… bright. Pulsing.
"You'll be okay, you'll be okay."
Much later, he thinks he hears a woman crying, and he feels like his heart is breaking, though he doesn't understand why.
When he wakes up, he feels exhausted. He looks at the clock on his bed stand and… damn it, what day is it? What was Weaver doing with his car keys and… and Tilly?
He feels like he's missed a few days when he walks into the station. His colleagues give him a casual hello, but all he looks for is Weaver. He finds him at his desk, bent over a pile of paperwork.
"Hey, Weaver," he says as he steps in, but Weaver doesn't look up. "What was going on yesterday?"
"Well, nothing particularly exciting. Some minor assaults, some parking tickets…"
"What? I'm talking about you. What were you and Tilly doing with my car and in my house?"
"Excuse me?" Weaver says and finally looks up.
Rogers closes the door and steps closer. "We met yesterday, at the city border. You were holding my car keys. And then you were at my place with Tilly, and…" He trails off as he remembers the glowing thing in Weaver's hand, and he feels a short, stinging pain in his chest, not unlike the phantom pains he feels in his missing hand from time to time.
"Did you have any weird dreams this morning, detective?"
He feels his face flush red, and he exits without a second word. Embarrassing himself in front of Weaver… what a great way to start the day.
Later, at Roni's, he can't help noticing the way she and Henry look at him - careful, focused, as if they're waiting for him to say or do something.
"Oh, I don't know if you've heard," Roni tells him, "but Tilly has moved in with me."
He nods. "Good for her. Is she a good roommate?"
"She's great. Too much marmalade for breakfast, though. So, when you come for your game this week, I'll have some lunch prepared. Perhaps you can teach me a little too."
"Thank you. We'll… do our best to clue you in," he says and smiles.
The day to their game nears, and Rogers can't get the sight of Tilly standing above him and calling him "papa" out of his mind. It was just a stupid dream, he tells himself, but his mind keeps pestering him with it.
Perhaps he'll share it with her and they'll laugh it off, and he'll finally stop thinking about it.
Alas, that day Roni calls to tell him that Tilly isn't feeling well and their game will be postponed.
It's been a week now, and he can't help feeling something is wrong. Weaver is suspiciously aloof, but Rogers catches him staring at him at random moments, Roni and Henry keep up with the awkward, heavy staring, and then there's that young blond woman who looks like he's stalking him right outside the station.
And his dreams aren't helping. He hasn't seen Tilly, at least not the way he knows her. He's only seen a little blond girl, running around a big, one-room apartment and holding various objects in her hands - a wooden sword, a stuffed and then a real rabbit, a big jar of marmalade…
He decides to talk to someone the day after he sees her run around holding the metal hook he'd found in Weaver's locker.
"You've been having dreams about Tilly?"
"Well, not exactly Tilly… but a girl who my mind tries to convince me is Tilly."
Henry smiles, however. "Perhaps you miss her."
"Miss her?" He moves backwards a little.
"Well, not in that way… you've told me that playing with her was an activity you were looking forward to every week. And now that it's been like, two weeks? That you haven't played? Perhaps you're starting to miss it."
"Aye, it's only Roni who calls me to cancel it, though. It's like Tilly's avoiding me."
"No, look, I've been at their place, and she's… Tilly got a little… embarrassed, that she had to cancel it the other time."
"Why? She was just sick, I understood."
"Yeah, well, she respects you a lot, and she felt kinda guilty for-"
"For something so trivial? And she thinks she's making it any better by avoiding me?"
"Hey, give her some time, she's just, a- a little…" Henry trails off.
"What? Is it something serious?"
"No, no. You know what? I'll actually talk to her. She should talk to you."
"About what? What's going on, Henry?"
"Don't worry about it."
But all Rogers can do is worry about it.
Finally, a few days later, Rogers walks into Roni's apartment to greet a quiet, but seemingly nervous Tilly.
"Hey, thought I'd bring something… I hope Roni enjoys marmalade too…" he says and gives a wooden box of small assorted marmalade jars to Tilly.
"No, not really," she says and looks at the box, then she shoots up one eyebrow in a way that reminds him too much of himself. "Grapefruit?" she says all too seriously.
"Yeah, it's… it's okay if you don't like it, I just thought…"
Tilly just smiles a little at him, then leaves the box on the counter and sets the chessboard on the small dinner table.
"That wasn't a wise move," he says and shakes his head.
"Why's that?" she replies with a smug face, keeping his captured knight in her hand.
"Come on, I know you're better than that. Now I'm free to take your queen, and then it'll only take a few turns for me to threaten your king."
Tilly just scrunches her lips.
"Okay, you've put your piece down, but this time I'll let you take it back," he says and opens his palm.
"Hmm, perhaps I was just trying to make you let me do what I want," she says as she smiles again, but her face changes drastically when she places the piece in his hand. Her smile drops and her eyes widen a little, assuming an expression of begging… and longing.
He's sure he's seen that face in his many dreams.
Suddenly, she rises and starts walking away. Rogers drops his piece and stands up as well, touching her arm softly.
"Wait! Tilly!"
But she takes her arm away and keeps walking without looking at him.
"Tilly!" He takes a few breaths, watching her walk away, before he decides to hell with it. "Tilly, am I your father?"
She stops in her tracks, almost freezes for a few seconds before she turns to him, eyes glassy. "What?"
"I know it… may sound crazy, but, just answer me, honestly. Am I your father?"
She looks down and bites her lip. The fact that she doesn't immediately dismiss it confirms his suspicions.
It still hits him like a ton of bricks.
"I am?" he says, out of breath. She really is his daughter? Then… why… "I'm… I'm sorry," he adds, staggering back a little.
"Sorry? For what?"
"I… well, there must have been a reason you kept it from me. And… they know, don't they? Henry, Roni and Weaver."
She nods.
Bloody hell. At the weight of the new information, his body hunches and he suddenly feels his chair under him. "And I'm sorry that… I can't- I can't remember how you… came… about. Your mother?"
She wrings her hands, but takes a step towards him. "That's not… it's a long story."
He looks up suddenly. He's been wondering about this impossible scenario all week long, but its very impossibility didn't let him prepare emotionally for it. "Did I abandon you?"
At this, her head whips up and she looks straight at him. "No, no, nothing like that."
"But you were alone. You were living in…" He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at his forehead, feeling shame overtake him. He had a daughter, who lived in a metal box because he wasn't conscious enough to properly take care of her.
"It's not your fault," she says, but her weak voice doesn't help convince him.
"But you still paid the price." He looks at her. "Your name isn't Tilly, is it?"
She looks at him silently for a few moments, before she looks to the side. "No, not really. How… how did you find out?"
He stands up and takes a step towards her, but steps back when he sees her flinch slightly. She then hunches forward as if out of guilt. He drops his eyes. "I had… something that I thought was a dream. I was in pain, and you were standing above me, comforting me and calling me… papa." It comes out so soft, as if all his secret wishes to have a family expressed themselves through that one word. He doesn't miss how her lips twitch slightly towards a smile at that word. "And it's not just that it felt real, all dreams do, but I can't stop thinking about it and it just… feels so right. I know it sounds crazy, but then Roni and Henry started acting weird too, and I… I felt…"
She keeps her distance, however, and it doesn't help ease his upset.
"What exactly happened? Why didn't I know?"
"I told you, it's a long story and… not a happy one, either."
"Well… would you mind sharing it?"
"What?" she asks, confused.
"The story. I'd like to know what happened to you. Why I wasn't there for you."
She smiles weakly. "You were there." She pauses for a while, probably taking in his confused expression. "You raised me. You just… forgot. It wasn't your fault you did, but…"
He forgot? How is that possible? No, never mind, it doesn't really matter, not when Til- his daughter is right there and he can…
"I… I raised you? How old are you?"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you were there for me."
"But then I left. I left you."
"You… you didn't…" Her desperate, failing attempt to cover it only makes the ache in his chest worse, and he suddenly realizes what he was missing all this time.
For so long, longer than he can remember, he had a feeling of loss haunting him, a feeling he couldn't quite place or explain.
It was her.
"Will you let me make up for it?"
She looks up at him dumbfounded. "What?"
He takes a few steps towards her, and he can't help the elated feeling when he doesn't see her pull away. "I want to make up for it. Whatever happened, whether it was my doing or not. I want to… fix it, as much as I can."
"You don't have to."
"Regardless, I want to."
"Why? I told you it's not a happy story. It's not… it was… you went through a lot, the first time. You gave up too much to raise me, and-"
"And what, you think you didn't deserve it? You think you don't deserve it now?"
"I- I-" He can see that she is fighting back tears, and perhaps a few sobs.
"Look, you don't have to tell me, if it's that hard. But please tell me, do you want me back in your life?"
She stays silent for a while, looking at him as he walks closer to her.
"If you don't, I understand, but if you do-"
"Do you?" she asks, her lip trembling.
He feels his eyes water as a smile spreads on his face. "Of course. I don't care what happened, I don't care how much I'll remember, but I'll do my best, I'll be by your side, as long as you want me…" He's close enough to her now that he can take her hand in his. "You know, for such a long time, I've had this… strange, empty feeling that something's missing, something that I couldn't understand what it was. At first I tried to, or I remember trying to quiet it down with booze, but when that almost cost me my own self and dignity I- I turned to trying to find Eloise Gardener. I was so obsessed to find her, I was trying to justify it to myself, but, even after I found her, it wouldn't go away… except from when I spent time with you. I thought it was just… just trading one task for another, but for some reason… being next to you and watching you and… realizing I care for you… I don't know why I didn't realize it sooner. That empty feeling… it was me missing you. So yes, I want to have a place in your life again, I never stopped wanting it. Even when I didn't even know you at all. And… every child deserves loving parents, so I can, I want to be one for you again, if you want me back."
Her tears run down her cheeks as she smiles wide. "Yes. Yes," she says and hugs him, bursting into sobs mixed with laughter when he hugs her back. He can barely contain his own self, feeling his own shoulders start to shake. It feels so right, so perfect… so warm.
"I'll find you again, I promise. You'll have your father back."
"Papa," she says, her voice distorted from the sobs, and hugs him tighter.
"Yes, your papa," he says and lets out a happy sob too, rubbing circles at her back.
Her papa. His little, all grown-up girl.
A small, slightly broken family, but a family indeed.
Somewhere they can both finally belong.