Hey all! If you have read my one shot That's The Way I Loved You this will look extremely familiar to you. I decided that I wasn't happy with the way I had written it, and rather than just going through and editing that work, I wanted to do an almost complete rewrite and make it a multi-chapter. I'm hoping that this one gets the same amount of response that the original did.

Make sure to leave a review if you liked this! They feed the muse!

*** December 8th ***

Emma stretched lazily in her bed, not wanting to move from her mountains of pillows and blankets to face the cold, December morning. It had been an unusually late night for her; while she went out drinking with Ruby, Belle, and Elsa often, she never stayed out past eleven. Last night, though, as it was getting on in the evening, she had received a text message from Killian that worried her.

She was used to long, drawn out messages that were written in perfect, grammatically correct sentences from him. Instead, she had gotten a message filled with jumbled letters and random emoticons. She was used to this sort of thing from Ruby – it happened more times than she could really count – but she had very rarely received a text like this from her best friend of almost ten years.

She had left the bar (making her goodbyes quick to the girls and telling them that she would buy the first two rounds on their next night out because she had to bail) and made her way over to Killian's apartment, knowing that she would probably end up being there a while.

She let herself in; they had exchanged keys years ago in case one of them had an emergency and needed the other, and it had turned into them just dropping by for the hell of it and drinking all of the alcohol the other had in store.

This is how Emma found Killian when she walked into his living room.

"Swan," he had said as he looked up at her with big basset hound eyes. "'m glad you could make it, love."

"What's going on, Killian?" she asked, plopping down into the seat next to him. "What has you drunker than a pirate on a bender? This isn't like you."

"Have I mentioned how lovely you are?" Though his face held that same hang-dog expression, he reached out to tousle the curls that rested over her right shoulder. "So… blonde and curly."

"Seriously, Killian," she urged as she grabbed his hand and held it firmly between her own. "What's going on with you tonight?"

"Milah," he grunted out. He reached for an envelope on the coffee table, and the bottle of rum that was sitting beside it. The rum was already uncapped; he took a generous swig and offered the bottle to her, which she accepted gladly.

"What about Milah?" she asked, setting the rum back on the table. "You haven't talked to her since you guys broke up, right?"

He pressed the envelope into her chest without speaking and grabbed for the rum again. He took several gulps before she pried it out of his hands, took another drink, and looked through the contents of the envelope.

A wedding invitation. Killian's ex-girlfriend had sent him an invitation to her upcoming wedding.

Unfortunately, that wasn't even the worst part of the situation. Killian and Milah had only been separated for six months, and the wedding was set in March - only three months away. Nine months after their breakup, not only was Milah in a new, committed relationship, she was getting married.

Emma looked up at her best friend, sadness clouding her eyes. It was her expression, she thought, that made Killian finally break down and show the emotions he had been holding back about Milah for so long. It broke her own heart to see Killian crying like this, so she did what came natural and pulled him into her chest, just like she did with her son every time he was upset.

Emma sat and rocked Killian gently back and forth until his sobs had somewhat subsided, then she reached out for the half-filled bottle of rum and took a big drink before offering it back to him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, Killian still held tightly to her chest.

"Not particularly-" he took a swig from the bottle and passed it back to her "- but… Swan, do you think she was cheating on me with someone else? That the reason behind her sudden marriage is because it wasn't so sudden after all?"

Emma took a minute to consider her answer. "Maybe she's pregnant," she finally forced out with an unconvincing laugh. It came up short when it wasn't returned, and she quickly backtracked. "All joking aside, Killian, I don't have a great answer for you."

He sighed and took another drink, then burying his face into her stomach.

"Hey," she said softly, running her hand through his hair. "Why don't we put this off for another day and get shit faced?"

"I like the way you think, Swan."

It was close to four in the morning when she finally got Killian settled into his bed and asleep, and she knew she was in no state to drive. Instead, knowing that she needed to get home to Henry, she called an Uber and left her keys sitting on the kitchen counter for Killian to use the next day.

She had a few minutes to kill in between calling the Uber and grabbing her things, so she went back into Killian's room to make sure that he was laying on his side (just in case he were to get sick in the middle of the night; she wouldn't want him to choke on his own vomit) and found herself drawn to how innocent he looked sleeping.

She would never understand how Milah could be so ungrateful.

Emma stepped forward and pulled Killian's blanket snugly around his shoulders, just as she would do for her son, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you," she said softly. She heard the ping on her phone signaling that her ride had arrived, and left the room without a backwards glance.

It was almost ten in the morning when Emma roused herself enough from her pillows to check her alarm clock. She didn't usually like to sleep this late on the weekends because of Henry, but she was glad that he had let her sleep. Her head was pounding from the night before and her mouth tasted like someone had shoved fresh-picked cotton into it.

Maybe Henry and I should go have a greasy breakfast this morning, she thought.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door before she had the chance to get up and make herself feel halfway decent.

"Mom?" Henry called through the wood. "Killian's here and he looks kind of upset. Is it okay if I turn on the stove and make some hot chocolate?"

Emma smiled; her son was so thoughtful. "Yeah, kid," she called back. "Just let me get dressed and I'll be out in a minute."

Her thirteen year old knew that Killian was more to her than just a friend. In fact, Henry might be the only one who knew precisely how she felt about her best friend.

Killian was around for every illness, baseball game, bad grade, scraped knee, and movie night that Emma and Henry have had since he was three years old. The only people who had been in Henry's life more often were her parents, and Mary Margaret and David Nolan weren't nearly as cool in Henry's eyes half of the time – they didn't let him stay up late and eat ice cream for dinner, but Killian did. Killian had become the father figure that Henry deserved, effectively replacing the man that Emma never intended for Henry to meet. Only Killian knew the whole story as to why Emma didn't want Neal anywhere near her and her son; he had abandoned her after he found out she was pregnant and had accused her of stealing money from him to the police as some sort of petty revenge for accidentally getting pregnant in the first place. It broke her heart, but had made her strong and had given her son to her. And eventually, it led her to Killian.

Emma pulled herself from the comfort of the nest that was her bed, stretching and popping the tightened joints in her back. She pulled on her robe and tied it loosely over her tank top and pajama bottoms, too lazy to find a more suitable outfit, and pulled her hair into a messy knot at the top of her head. She quickly went through her morning routine in the bathroom, trying to rid herself of the cottony feeling that last night had left her with. Feeling slightly better, Emma rolled her shoulders back and went out to greet the day.

She walked out of her room and was greeted by the sight of her son and Killian fighting over a spatula when she walked into the kitchen. Fighting her grin, she snuck in behind Killian before jumping at his back, yelling "boo!"

"Bloody hell, Swan!" he cursed, startled into dropping the spatula on the floor.

Henry laughed uproariously.

Emma wrapped her arms around Killian's waist, burying her face in his shoulders and breathing in his scent. "I'm sorry," she said, fighting the laugh that was threatening to bubble up at any time.

"No you're not," Henry said with a laugh, digging around in a drawer and handing a new spatula to Killian. "Now, can we get breakfast started? I'm starving."

Emma rolled her eyes and let go of Killian to start pulling the ingredients for French toast out of her fridge and pantry. She was hoping that this would be greasy enough to start the fight of her looming hangover, but decided not to take any real chances. She placed her ingredients down on the counter and walked to the cabinet where she kept her emergency supplies, first aid kit, and store of medicines, pulling out the bottle of ibuprofen. She knocked a few into her hand and passed the bottle over to Killian, knowing that he needed the medicine more than she did. Killian smiled gratefully when he took the bottle, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"We were going to make pancakes, mom," Henry said with a whine.

Emma only had to look at her boys before Henry was dropping his argument, the power of the "mom stare" making him realize that the topic really was not up for discussion. "The last time you two were in charge of making pancakes, we almost had to call the fire department. So no, we're having French toast."

Killian laughed, not denying the incident. The lumps of char they had tried to pass off as pancakes had indeed caught fire, but he had managed to smother it in time. From that point on, though, Emma had restricted him to making the one food she knew he could – his famous hangover breakfast scramble, which included eggs, bacon, potatoes, peppers, and onions. He handed over the spatula to Emma with a smile on his face and moved to the fridge to get everything ready for him to make his dish.

Henry, noticing that he was going to get food with no effort on his part, left the kitchen to find their traditional Sunday morning cartoons.

This was somewhat of a tradition for the three of them, eating breakfast while curled up on the couch with mugs of hot chocolate (or black coffee, in Killian's case), plates of breakfast goodies, and the old-school cartoons that Emma and Killian had grown up with. They had started it when Killian first came into their life, and Emma just needed a break from being the sole parent. Killian would make his scramble, Emma would make French toast, pancakes, or waffles, and they would spend the day with Henry in their pajamas. It was the family Emma had always wanted - her son and the man she adored right by her side – and she was glad that the tradition had stuck.

With Henry out of earshot, Emma turned to face Killian.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked softly, not wanting to draw Henry's attention back to the kitchen. "Henry said that you looked upset when he woke me up this morning."

Rubbing the back of his ear, Killian sighed before answering. "I've been better, to be honest, love," he said sadly. "I spent almost two years of my life with Milah and she decided that it would be a great idea to invite me to her wedding? Not six months after she left me, which is just the cherry on top of the shit sundae."

Emma moved to his side, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. This was one method of comfort that Emma had never felt guilty about showing Killian. When he was with Milah, she had held back any unnecessary touched because of how jealous the other woman could be, but she had always felt safe with her arms around Killian or his arms around her. It was something they had always done; when she was having a hard time being a single parent, he would hold her close and assure her that everything would be okay, and when he had a rough day with Milah or Liam or any other issue, she would return the favor and hug him as if her life depended on it.

"You know you can always not go to the wedding, Killian," she said. "Don't put yourself through more pain. She's not worth it."

"She sent an invitation to Liam as well," he said with a roll of his eyes. "And for some reason, he feels the need to go and join her on this 'happy day', so I can't just ignore the invitation like I planned on. He told me that lovely piece of news this morning."

"I don't see why that means you need to go, Killian," she insisted. "Why should you go and be happy for the woman who broke your heart?"

"Because Liam would never let me live it down if I couldn't make myself sit through one simple little wedding," he said bitterly. He shut off the heat under his scramble with a violent click and turned to lean against the counter beside the stove.

"But it's your ex-girlfriend."

"Doesn't matter. It's not good form."

"Screw good form," Emma said as she pulled the sugary breakfast treat off the griddle and turned back to her best friend. "You need to do what's best for you. Maybe you can bring someone with you and show her that you're over her once and for all?"

"Who in the bloody hell would go with me to my ex-girlfriend's wedding, Swan?" he said grumpily. He looked up at her from his position against the counter and his eyes betrayed him, showing the hurt that Milah had caused him by having the audacity to send him that piece of cardboard. It killed Emma to see him in that much pain, and with that she made her decision.

"I would." The sincerity echoed in her words as she looked Killian in the eyes. "I wouldn't make you sit through that alone, Killian."

"Thank you, Swan," he said softly.

"Mom! Killian!" Henry yelled from the living room. "Where are we on that French toast? I'm starving, here!"

The pair laughed and moved back to the stove to get the food and prepare plates for the three of them; leave it to Henry to lighten up the mood and get Killian to smile. Emma grabbed plates for herself and Henry, while Killian carried his own. Before they could leave the kitchen, however, he used his free hand to reach out and grab Emma's forearm.

"Swan?" he asked. "You know how much you mean to me, right?"

"Of course I do, Killian," Emma insisted. "You're my best friend – have been for years and always will be, if I have anything to say about it."

Killian smiled and let go of Emma's arm. "What would I do without you, Swan?"

"Crash and burn," Emma said teasingly.

Killian rolled his eyes and they made their way into the living room to join Henry, who had Scooby Doo playing on the television and was wrapped in Emma's favorite fluffy blanket. Emma shook her head; he always left her without her blanket, and she always ended up sharing the knitted throw that her mother had made her years ago with Killian. She handed Henry his plate and sat down next to his curled-up legs, getting comfortable so that Killian could settle in as well. Emma held out her hand for Killian's plate so that he could grab the throw before settling down.

If there was one thing Emma truly loved, it was the sense of familiarity and routine that Killian had developed with her and her son on Sunday mornings. Not for the first time, she wished that she could wake up to this kind of morning every day. She had been in love with Killian Jones for years now, but had finally admitted it to herself last winter, right in the middle of one of Killian and Milah's biggest fights. She had felt guilty at the time because Killian was dangerously in love with Milah, but now she was just afraid to admit her feelings.

Afraid that he wouldn't feel as strongly for her as she did for him.

The sounds of the Scooby gang trying to chase after their current ghost mingled with the soft sounds of chewing, and Emma felt at peace. She glanced at Henry, who was shoveling food in his mouth mindlessly, and then at Killian, who was staring right back at her with a small smile on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"You have a bit of syrup on your upper lip, love." Killian could have left it at that and let Emma wipe up her mess, but he didn't. He took his thumb and gently ran it across her lips, letting it linger for a moment at the corner before sticking it directly in his mouth.

"Ew! Killian!" Emma shrieked. "Why are you so weird?"

"Ah, you love me for it, Swan," he teased with a big grin on his face.

I do, she thought. If only you knew how much.

"You are a child," she said instead, keeping her tone light. "I can see why you and Henry get along so well."

"Hey, don't bring me into this!" exclaimed Henry. "And breakfast was really good mom, Killian. Thank you for making it."

"You're welcome, lad," Killian replied.

The three had all cleaned their plates and set them on the coffee table in front of them, curling back into the overstuffed couch so that they could watch their Sunday cartoon marathon. Emma shamelessly pulled the throw over her lap and curled into Killian's side so that they could both enjoy the warmth. Henry looked over at Emma and shot her a knowing smirk before turning back towards the television.

Emma rolled her eyes at her son and tucked her feet up under her. Killian relaxed at her side and wrapped his arm around her loosely as he kicked his feet up onto the part of the coffee table that wasn't covered in dishes from their breakfast.

"Comfy, Swan?" he whispered the question into her hair; she could have sworn that she felt his lips graze her there, but she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"You make a good pillow," she teased. Killian laughed and tightened his hold on her, turning back to the cartoons.

It was going to be a better day than yesterday; she could already tell.