Drink Away the Memory

A/N: Inspired and following along the song "Whiskey Lullaby" by: Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss. Between each break in story, the timeline jumps ahead. A couple days, weeks, months… essentially, it takes a few years over Killian's story, then another few years for Emma.

She Put Him Out Like A Burning Cigarette...

"I don't care David! He's not my problem anymore. He's a grown man, if he wants to fuck up what's left of his life, that's his deal."

"Please Emma. You were the only one that got through to him when he got this far."

David was well aware that this was his "Hail Mary" pass. Desperate times and desperate men and however the line went. But there was jumping off the deep end, and then there was wherever Killian Jones went to. And Killian Jones only got further the longer time ticked by. Everyone knew why.

(Maybe not everyone.)

David just wanted to save his friend.

"David… He stopped listening to me years before it ended. And after… well you remember."

"Yeah, I remember."

It had been brutal and messy and it had taken years for either of them to function remotely like adults. They did everything the same, even after the divorce. And neither knew it.

(Or simply chose to ignore it.)

"I am sorry David. But I'm not going near this anymore."

"He never stopped loving you, you know…"

There was a moment of silence, and David held onto the fragment of hope the moment brought.

"David, if that was true, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

She hung up with a soft click. She didn't know. David's heart sank further down. His friend was slowly killing himself, and his sister would never believe why.

"May I speak to Mary Nolan please?"

"Yes?"

"I have you listed as an emergency contact for a Mr. Killian Jones…"

Mary's heart stopped. "Oh God! Is he ok? What happened?"

"We have him here at St. Frances General. He was found behind a bar this morning, passed out cold. They brought him in when he began vomiting without waking up. We've pumped his stomach and he's stable, though we'd like to keep him overnight for observation. However, there seems to be an issue with his insurance. Could you possibly come down and clarify a few things?"

Her heart stuttered as it restarted itself. The air forced its way back out of her lungs. He hadn't done it yet; as close as this was. Some days, Mary thought Killian was trying to…

No. No he wouldn't go that far. No matter how bad…

"Of course. But he won't want to be there over night. He has a problem with hospitals. If he wakes up there, you'll have more than just an insurance problem."

"He shouldn't be left alone in his condition. Would you be willing to assume responsibility for him?"

"Yes. Better that, than waking there. Trust me."

Not since Liam…

"Then there will be some more paperwork for you to sign."

"Not a problem, I'm on my way."

Mary went to the bedroom and dug through a drawer they had devoted to Killian. Medical records, known prescriptions, list of doctors in all sorts of professions. She grabbed the latest copy they kept of his insurance, knowing the exact problem they ran into.

(It wasn't the first time.)

Keys and a coat, and Mary flew out to rescue her former brother-in-law. Again.

Killian watched from the far corner he had tucked himself into. Arm slung around Karen… or was it Kate… Samantha? It didn't matter. It didn't matter who the girl at his side was, not anymore. Not even when he absently brought her along to a family event. This was the baby shower of his best friend; he wouldn't miss it. Even if she was there.

(Not like she would miss it either, being David's sister and all.)

But out of respect, he kept his distance.

(It's what she had asked for wasn't it?)

He watched her smile. He watched her joy. Watched as her face lit up for someone else. Heard her laugh ring through the air for a joke that wasn't his. He hid the pain as best he could. Smiled and aww'd when appropriate. Kept behind the pull of a beer bottle when he couldn't. It took a lot more to get him drunk these days. Chasing oblivion apparently increases a man's tolerance. All he wanted was a blanket of darkness to wrap up tight in. The world was too bright and loud. It kept him awake, and if he was awake, he was thinking. If he was thinking, he remembered. And he always remembered her. He didn't want to remember anymore.

Presents were opened and someone was breaking out some sort of game to continue the shower a bit longer. The girl at his side tugged on his arm for the thousandth time, urging to go and have their own party. He looked at her (whatever her name was), took in her clothes… vaguely noting she must have worn them last night when he picked her up.

(Not exactly baby shower clothing.)

(Not exactly clothing.)

In another life, he would have told a girl like her to go "party" with herself. But this was now. An artificial buzz was humming in his blood, and she was willing. He let her drag him through the house and back out to his car.

He forgot to say his goodbyes.

(At least he was forgetting something.)

Days after the shower had piled various baby related items in his living room, David was still sorting the packages and boxes; stopping for the umpteenth interruption to a knock at his door. Three short raps. A uniformed officer stood grim causing David to groan.

Dammit Killian…

"What did he do this time?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're here because of Killian right? What did he do now?"

"Sir, are you Mr. Nolan?"

Red warning bells sounded and flashed in David's head. This was wrong.

"Yes…"

"You said you knew a Killian Jones?"

"Yes. He's my brother-in-law. Er… was… it's a bit complicated."

"Sir, a Mr. Jones was found in his apartment this morning-"

"No…"

"Cause of death hasn't been validated by our M.E., but we'll need you to come down to the station to identify the body. Also, you'll need to speak with the detective assigned to the case. Take this card; should you have any questions, feel free to call. They'll be expecting you down to the station in the next day or two. The sooner the better. My condolences Mr. Nolan."

The uniform paused for a moment before turning and walking back to his vehicle.

David stood in the open door for a long time. His wife came up behind him. He couldn't be sure, but he thinks he told her what just happened. He must have. She had gone to the only chair she could still sit in and was crying. He should comfort her. David didn't like causing Mary to cry. Wasn't good for the baby to be under such stress. Yeah… he should go comfort his wife.

It felt strange dealing with this alone. Mary was pregnant, and should be the big ball of emotions. But David didn't seem to be processing any of it. Instead, he had turned to caring for her. Emma had thanked her for the phone call and hung up. Mary made a mental note to check in on her after this was settled; Emma didn't sound ok on the phone. Someone had to be strong she supposed, why not her?

Thankfully, they let her I.D. Killian from photos. Alcohol poisoning they said. Accidental death. It wasn't the suicide they first thought.

(An empty bottle of sleeping pills had been nearby, and a note in his hand.)

A small box of his things were handed over. Arrangements were made and confirmed for a funeral home to pick up the body in the morning.

"One last thing. Do either of you know a person named Emma? Or Swan?"

"She's our sister."

"Our?"

"Well, David's sister, my sister-in-law. Why?

"The note he had been addressed on the outside to an 'Emma', but the heading on the inside said 'Swan'."

"I'd like to have that letter detective, if it's not a problem."

"Already in the box. I'm sorry for your loss Mrs. Nolan."

"Thank you."

It was in front of the fireplace that she broke down from curiosity and read his last words. She should just hand it to Emma, but she'd steal this secret first, in case it wasn't pleasant. It smelled heavily of rum, crinkled and torn from being held tight in his hands as he died. It was in front of the fireplace she cried again.

Swan,

I'll love you till the day I die…

Killian would never tolerate being landlocked for eternity. But neither could anyone cope with casting his ashes to the sea. Emma –on one of her rare visits– gave them instructions and directions to a cliff side.

"One of the few things we discussed without fighting."

It was essentially perfect. Under a willow tree that overlooked the ocean he used to sail in. Here they would bury his ashes. Where they could visit him, but he wasn't bound to a graveyard. A small flat stone to mark his resting place. A small ceremony of only family and close friends. Emma wasn't there.

At 36 years of age, Killian Jones was laid to rest.

The Rumors Flew…

Emma was happy once. Oh so long ago. And then –like always– it went to hell. She doesn't even remember how it got so bad for her and him. One minute they could read each other as easily as a Dr. Seuss book. The next… it was dead languages in bound tomes. They both moved on, as best as they could. One night stands for both of them, but it was when she met Walsh that she knew he got worse. Oh she acted like she didn't care (and sometimes convinced herself she didn't), acted like she didn't see, but that was for survival.

Walsh was good about it, gave her room to breathe and deal. Because the truth was, it hurt. It hurt every time Killian had a new girl on his arm, or showed up to a party already drunk; smiling and ignoring she existed. How far they had fallen away from each other. She would take a shot of whiskey every night she had to deal with him.

(She told nobody it was always from the bottle he had bought for her their 5th anniversary.)

She wanted to reach out, make him better like she had done when his brother passed on. She just couldn't. It hurt more now. It would mean more than she wanted it to anyway.

(It always did.)

Then it was over. Really over.

Killian was dead.

The empty hole that he had left behind became a vacuum pit. And it was dragging her in. Going to his apartment and thrashing it helped ease the pull. Cleaning it up after helped a little more. It was in the middle of his living room floor, chugging on a bottle of… something… that she remembered he had wishes to uphold. One of the few responsible things they had managed in their time together. Maybe that would make the pull go away.

"So it's over?"

"He said I've changed. Be nice to know how I changed though…"

"Did you give the ring back?"

"He wouldn't take it. Said it wasn't worth anything anyway."

"What?"

"$8 off of eBay. Cu-bic Zir-con-ium and Hypo-al-ler-genic Steel. Normally, I wouldn't care, but he lied about that… makes me wonder what elsh there waz."

"Emma… are… are you drunk?"

"Possibly. Why?"Emma shook the upside-down bottle. Two down…

"Emma…"

"Mary…"

"Just… promise me you won't go driving to get some ice-cream or anything."

"Bought that first."

The half-gallon of chocolate-malted crunch had already melted, leaking out of the weak container and spreading over on her counter.

"Right."

"Mary?"

"Yeah?"

"He's gone."

"I know."

Emma wasn't speaking of Walsh. But she didn't understand that with liquid fire dulling her mind. She just saw clear blue eyes crinkling at the corners in a laugh.

Walsh doesn't have blue eyes…

"Emma, are you home?"

"Yeah! Gimmie a second, I'll be right out."

David heard shuffling from her bedroom. Very much like when they were kids, and the idea of cleaning her room was to shove it all in the closet. But clinking glass never happened as a kid.

"Emma?" Déjà vu set into David's skin and crawled to the base of his skull. But before the cause could click in his brain, his sister came from behind a door. One she was careful to quickly close again; barely opened to come out. "Everything ok?"

(David didn't like her door.)

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"If this is a bad time, we could always get Ruby to watch little Graham for us…"

"Don't be stupid. I haven't seen my nephew in weeks."

David grabbed Emma's arms. She had lost weight. She didn't have any to spare, but he could see the hollows of her cheeks so much now. "Emma, really now. Are you ok?"

She huffed. "I'm fine. I was sick remember? I only started eating real food again."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes dad."

David gave her a glare. Something else he had learned from their dad.

"Really. I'm ok. I just don't feel safe driving yet. Don't want to crash because I have the hunger shakes right?"

(Her laugh was wrong.)

"And if you get them with Graham?"

"I'm watching my 2 year old nephew David, not operating heavy machinery. Besides, I have protein bars if I need more than what I know your wife has prepped for the meals. But, if it makes you feel better, I'll keep Ruby at the top of my recent call list. Better than speed dial."

David heaved a sigh. "Right. Let's go then. I think Mary wanted to have a quick visit with you before we left."

A picture of an old friend had been put out on a table. David said nothing. It still hurt too much.

"Mr. Nolan?"

"Speaking."

"My name is Ms. Mills; I employ your sister, Emma Swan?"

"Yes. How can I help you?"

"Miss Swan hasn't shown up for a few days and isn't responding to phone calls or e-mails. I was hoping you could tell me any information as to her whereabouts."

"Sorry, I didn't know she wasn't going to work. I'll have her call you when I get in touch with her."

"Don't bother. She has been a no-show for three straight days. Inform her that her remaining pay will be mailed to the listed address."

A click sounded the end of that conversation.

Dammit Emma.

She had been in and out of hospitals for a while now. Not that she told him what was really wrong with her, she'd only joke and say it was Lupus.

(A joke she used to share with Killian. But David never mentioned he knew that.)

"Mary!"

A voice responded from the kitchen, "Yeah?"

"Have you heard from Emma the last few days?"

"Yesterday. Why?"

"That was her boss. Said Emma hasn't shown or called into work the last three. Did she say anything to you?"

"No. She mostly rambled on about sailing."

"Sailing?"

"It's that time of year David. It's been getting worse every year that passes. I don't think she's as ok as she tries to be."

"She's just been sick."

"David."

"Yeah… yeah ok." He breathed. How the hell would he deal with this?

"Go over there tomorrow. Make sure she's ok. Take Ruby if you can. Ruby seems to get through to her these days more than we do."

David kissed his wife on her cheek. Held her close as their son played on the floor with a wooden spoon and an empty pot.

David wasn't able to see his sister the next day. Or even the next week. Life happened, his little family needing his attention first. It was a rare day off; he was debating between just showing up at Emma's, or trying the phone again.

(She hadn't been answering him either.)

Three sharp raps sounded at the door.

David's head reeled. The world tilted. They sounded again. He vaguely understood that he had walked to the door and opened it. The same uniform was in front of him.

"Mr. Nolan?"

"No… I mean… yes. I am David Nolan."

"Sir, are you related to a Ms. Emma Swan?"

"She's my sister…"

"Sir, I am sorry to inform you that your sister was found this morning in her apartment…"

David didn't hear the rest. He had collapsed on the floor. It happens when your world tilts too far.

At the age of 34, Emma Swan was laid to rest.

Ruby stood with Mary and David at the willow tree. It didn't take long to decide where Emma belonged. It was always the way it should have been.

"It should be strange that they did the same things even after they split up. But it isn't." Mary's voice was soft. Not out of reverence, but because any louder and she'd be screaming.

(Control wasn't easy for her right now.)

"No, it isn't. God, they even died the same."

(Mary left it to Ruby to have the outbursts anyway.)

"When Killian died, he had a note in his hand. Said how he'd lover her always. I never told her or gave it to her. I couldn't. I didn't want her blaming herself. Guess she did that anyway."

David –who hadn't spoken to anyone but his son since that morning– whispered to the air. Turned, and walked back to the car.

"What did he say? I didn't hear him." Worry gouged itself in Mary's heart for him.

Ruby stared after David as his shoulders hunched under his grief. "He said, the police found a photo in her hands."

"I didn't know that. I wonder which one…"

Ruby nodded to the framed picture nailed to the tree shading their buried friends. Killian and Emma were hugged in tight together, smiling on like the sun and stars shone in each other.

Mary stuttered in a breath, holding in the pain as best she could. "At least they have each other now."

(Mary was ever in league with hope.)