Summary: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. They caught Pan just before he could initiate the curse and rip everyone's memories away. All is well in Storybrooke, and Pan is kept under lock-and-key by the Charming Family. However, when a ghost from Captain Hook's past returns, Peter catches its interest and Hook is forced to take on a role he refused to play many years ago.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Once Upon a Time or its characters.
"Do we have a deal? Can we go our separate ways?" Milah asked Rumpel, after tossing the magic bean to Killian.
"Do you mean, do I forgive you? Can I move on? Perhaps. Perhaps. I can see you are twuly in love," Rumpelstiltskin retorted, a mischievous gleam in his green eyes.
"Thank you."
"Just one question."
"What do you want to know?"
"How could you leave Bae? Do you know what it's like, walking home that night—" he started, anger overcoming him.
"Rumpel—"
"—Knowing I had to tell our son—"
"—Please—" She pleaded.
"—His mother…was dead?"
"I was wrong to lie to you, I was the coward. I know I—"
"You left him! You abandoned him!"
"And there's not a day that goes by that I don't feel sorry for that!"
"You're sorry— Enough! You let him go."
"I let my misery cloud my judgment," she admitted.
"And why were you so miserable?"
Milah approached her ex-husband, courage evident in her squared shoulders. She looked him in the eyes with pure loathing while she spat out of her mouth:
"Because I never loved you."
In an instant, Rumpelstiltskin's arm was embedded into Milah's chest. A moment later, her beating heart was in the palm of his hand. Milah collapsed to the floor, any strength she once had now ripped from her hold.
"NO!" Hook cried, rushing to her side and gathering her body into his arms.
Milah looked up at the pirate, love and longing in her grey eyes. She lifted a gentle finger to caress his cheek and smiled at her love. Killian's panicked face ran over her features, etching her memory to mind. Any words needed to be said died on his lips, his frenzied mind unable to form syllables. Out of the corner of their eyes, Rumpelstiltskin slowly crushed her heart in his hand.
"…I love you…" She whispered, eyes closing in finality.
Killian Jones stood over the cold body of his deceased love, Milah. He gazed at her seemingly asleep face, gently caressing her cheek with the hook now attached to his severed wrist. It was silent on the deck, the crew having given him a moment alone with Milah to say goodbye.
"Oh, love, what am I going to do?" he whispered into the air.
"Captain?" called Smee from the wheel, wringing his red beanie in his hands.
Hook signed longingly, tearing his eyes away from Milah to look at Smee. The stout man looked nervously at the grieving man. The sound of a baby crying echoed from below the deck, snapping the two men out of their reveries. A stern façade overtook Killian's—now known as Captain Hook—face, reminding Smee of the man he once was before Milah's death.
"Captain—" Smee started.
"Mr. Smee, it's time."
Smee nodded and went to fetch the crew. One crewman approached Hook with a squirming bundle of blankets, soft cries coming from the bundle. Hook hesitantly took the bundle, cradling the baby's head with his one good hand. He bounced the baby gently in his arms, hushing its cries into soft whimpers.
"Now, now, Marina," he cooed. "What would your mother say?"
The baby looked up at her father with grey eyes—Milah's eyes—and reached a tiny hand up towards his face. Hook inclined his head forward, planting a small, tender kiss on the inside of her palm. The girl smiled at him, her eyes crinkling in the same way Milah's had when she smiled that same smile at him. You are the spitting image of your mother, love, he admitted to himself.
He was vaguely aware of the sound of Milah's body hitting the water, as was the traditional ocean funeral for a sailor. He allowed a lone tear to slip discreetly down his cheek, the droplet sliding onto the palm he still pressed his lips against. Marina released a shrill cry, as if mourning the burial of her mother, the only sound breaking the depressed silence.
"What do we do now, Captain?" Smee asked after a moment, a slight quiver in his voice.
Hook tore his gaze from his shrieking daughter, turning to look at the man. The faces of his crew were solemn and disheartening, much like his own.
"We set sail, men, to Neverland."
Present Day, in Storybrooke:
Killian Jones woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows, Emma's warm body pressed against his side. The pirate sighed in absolute content and nuzzled closer to the blond woman's warmth. Emma stirred beside him, her blond tresses tickling his bare chest. The two groaned with their waking, stretching out any kinks that their night had left.
"Good morning," she grumbled, stretching into a sit-up with a wide yawn.
Hook opened his reluctantly, the sun momentarily blinding him. He turned his attention to his girlfriend, the light bouncing off of her golden locks. The sun hit in that perfect way that placed a halo around her head and an ethereal glow around her entire being. Hook smiled at her back.
"Morning, milady," he greeted.
"I'll go get the kid ready," Emma replied, to which Hook nodded in agreement. "You get dressed."
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The two adults looked at each other in question, unsure who would be knocking at such an early time of day.
"Are we expecting anyone?" Emma asked, hand automatically twitching towards the bedside drawer that held her gun.
Hook shrugged at her. "Maybe your parents decided to drop for a visit?"
After the entire Pan ordeal, Emma and Henry had moved out of Snow's crowded apartment, and into one of their own. Hook, after a few months living on the Jolly Roger, moved in soon after to be with Emma, whom he had started dating once they captured Pan. After that, everything in Storybrooke had been relatively peaceful.
"I'll get the door then," Emma said, moving cautiously toward the front area of the apartment.
Emma approached the door slowly, hand reaching towards the kitchen counter to grab a metal spatula for extra measure. She jumped a bit at the sound of another set of impatient knocks, almost dropping the spatula in the process.
"I'm coming," she called towards the door.
After a brief check at their visitor through the peephole, she unlocked the door and opened it. The visitor in question had presumably taken steps away from the door after her knocking, having taken to leaning against the doorway across the hall. The visitor—a girl no older than sixteen or seventeen—raised its head to look at Emma, a questioning quirk in her eyebrow. The girl kicked off from the apartment door she had been leaning on and approached the blond, standing about half a foot shorter than Emma.
"Good morning," Emma greeted. "Can I help you?"
The girl leaned over both sides of Emma to take a peek into the apartment, appearing to be looking for someone. Emma placed herself in front of the girl's line of sight, arms crossed in defense against the peering.
"I said, 'Can I help you?'"
"I'm looking for someone," the girl answered, standing on her toes to try and catch more glimpses of the room.
"Emma, love, who's at the door?" called Hook as he appeared from the bedroom in leather pants and an unbuttoned shirt, fastening his hook to its harness.
"Father."
Hook and Emma's eyes snapped to the teenager in their doorway, questions running in their mind. Hook stepped back in shock, mouth agape and hook half-fastened. Emma turned to him in question, questions and demands dying on her lips at the sight of her frozen boyfriend.
Hook gulped. "Marina."
And there you have it. My first ONCE UPON A TIME fanfic. Review and comment as you please but don't be too harsh. Thank you for reading.
-alice