A Pirate's Christmas Carol (pt. 1 of 2)

CS genre: CS Christmas future fic

Killian admired the Christmas tree from his perch on the couch. The colorful lights shown to full effect in the last hours of the night when all was still and dark and silent. Tomorrow was the feast of Christmas, and Swan and the lad were so excited they could barely contain themselves.

Killian had to admit he was curious about this Christmas holiday. What an odd tradition to bring a tree into one's living room and decorate it with lights and colorful baubles of all kinds!

The Swan-Jones family had spent a pleasant Christmas Eve with the Charmings. He and Swan were both strangers to the love and joy of family, and so the traditions of the season were both foreign and delightful to them. It warmed Killian's heart to see the incandescent joy on his wife's faces as she watched her parents open the gift she'd selected for them.

It was all he'd wanted for such a very, very long time—to be with the one he loved, to belong to a family.

At least it was all he'd thought he'd wanted…until the day some seven months past when Swan informed him that he was to be a father a month into the new year.

To say he'd been elated at the news was quite the understatement. The thought of having a child of his own was a dream he'd long since despaired of realizing. He loved Henry as his own son, of course, but there was something fitting and beautiful about creating a new life through the True Love he shared with Swan.

Killian reached for his flask, lying on the end table. He took a long sip and waited for the burning liquid to calm his frazzled nerves. Swan slept peacefully in their bed, their unborn son nestled warm and peaceful inside of her, but Killian found sleep eluding him on this Christmas Eve night.

He was happy about the approach of his little one's birth; of course he was, but he was also bloody terrified. What did he know about being a father? His own father had been a piss poor example of what a parent should be. Killian knew his faults; knew he had a tendency to let emotions rule logic, a tendency toward impulsiveness. Would he prove to be as much of a disappointment to his son as his father was to him?

The thought made his stomach turn. Raising a child with Swan—this was one adventure he could not stand to muck up.

Killian had no idea how long he sat there worrying about his inadequacies as a father, but eventually the twinkling lights on the tree and crackling of the fire in the hearth lulled him into an uneasy sleep.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

"Wake up, Little Brother!" someone said as a gentle hand shook Killian's shoulder.

"Leave off, Liam!" Killian said sleepily…before the shock of what he'd just said—what he'd just heard—penetrated his sleep-fogged brain and woke him completely.

"Must have been dreaming," Killian muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes with his good hand. Likely the day spent with family brought his own lost brother to mind.

A deep chuckle interrupted his musings. "It's not a dream, Killian," came the very definite voice of Liam Jones. "I'm quite real.

Killian turned, staring open-mouthed as his beloved brother, the man he'd personally seen move on to his eternal reward, took a seat on the opposite end of the couch in his and Swan's living room.

"H…how are you here, brother?" Killian croaked, too shocked even to feel the intense joy he knew would hit soon.

"Technically speaking, I'm not," Liam said cryptically. I'm nothing but a shade, a ghost if you will. Your distress has not gone unnoticed. I've been sent to help you, to be your guide of sorts."

"My guide?" Killian asked, brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Liam. My guide to what?"

"Your past," Liam said, getting to his feet and extending a hand. "You could call me your ghost of Christmas past. Come. I've much to show you this night."

"But, Emma…" Killian said as he got to his feet as well. "She'll worry if she wakes to find me gone, and in her condition—you're to be an uncle, Liam!—I hesitate to cause her anymore distress than is absolutely necessary."

"Fear not about that, little brother," Liam said with a gentle smile. "Your wife and babe will be quite well while we're gone. I can promise you they won't even know you're gone. Take my hand. Do you trust me?"

"Always," Killian said, finally taking the proffered hand.

Killian suddenly felt weightless, as though he'd taken flight. He looked down and saw the world below him spin away, as though he were moving faster than the airplane Swan had convinced him to board on their honeymoon. Were he being guided by anyone but Liam, he'd likely have called out in fright, but he'd spoken truthfully. He knew he could trust his beloved brother to have his safety and best interest at heart.

Killian had scarcely the time to wonder where they were headed before he and Liam landed gently right in the middle of a jungle. Killian's heart dropped to his stomach. He would never in his life be able to forget this place.

Neverland.

He turned betrayed eyes to his brother, but before he got the chance to reproach Liam, a full regiment of Lost Ones whooped and hollered as they tore through the forest…stopping just outside Baelfire's cave.

"Pan's waiting for you," the leader, Felix, called into the opening of the cave. "He's ready to play. Are you ready to play Baelfire? It's not wise to keep Pan waiting."

Killian stepped forward, hand fisted, hook raised, but before he could confront the psychotic bullies, Liam stopped him with a hand to his sleeve. "They can't see or hear us, brother. We merely watch events already transpired."

The thought was surreal…but not nearly as surreal as watching himself, fully attired as a pirate, complete with vicious scowl and finely sharpened hook bound onto the scene and step between Baelfire's cave and the Lost Ones.

"Not today, mates," the Hook from the past growled, raising his signature weapon threateningly. "You'll have to do without Bae for your sport."

"Think carefully, captain," Felix snarled. "It's unwise to cross Pan."

"I'll take my chances." Hook said. "Now return to your demon master, lest you feel the bite of my hook."

Felix looked as though he wanted to argue further, but then his eyes fell onto the sharpened hook. Evidently deciding he didn't wish to go up against the infamous Captain Hook, the Lost One turned away, motioning his followers to do the same. "You're going to regret this Captain. Pan will not be pleased."

Hook watched until the Lost Ones were out of sight, and then gave a sharp rap to the stone surface that functioned as Baelfire's front door. A moment later teenage Bae came into view, looking as though he didn't know whether to thank Hook—or to go off on him.

"Thanks," Bae said finally. "Thanks for making them leave."

Hook waved off the thanks, reaching up to scratch at the spot behind his ear. "It was no trouble, lad," Hook said. "Things may have gone…badly…at our last meeting, but I wish you no harm. I wish to ensure your safety while we are trapped on this accursed island. It's what your mother would have wanted."

Bae shot him an inscrutable look. "How can I trust you? Just yesterday you let the Lost Ones take me from your ship!"

Killian reached into his bag and pulled out a large pastry. "I mean you no harm, Baelfire. I never have. Please accept this cake as a token of my commitment to protect you."

Bae continued looking at Hook, mouth set in an angry line, but finally he nodded ever so slightly, reaching out to take the proffered gift. "Thanks," Bae said

Killian felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned back to look at Liam.

"Come little brother," Liam said. "We've yet one more stop to make."

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian felt the soaring, speeding sensation once more, and when he came to a stop, he found himself in the Charmings' loft. He looked around and saw himself and Swan seated together on the loveseat, their hands entwined.

"Now if you need anything, anything at all don't hesitate to call. If you can't get ahold of me, you can always call your father at the sheriff's station," Mary Margaret said, agitation clear in every fiber of her being. "Oh I hate leaving like this! If I didn't still have Christmas shopping to do, I'd never go, but…"

Emma got to her feet, went to her mother and patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, Mom! Killian and I will be fine. Little bro will be just fine with his big sis."

"And though I might not have as much experience with newly born babes as one might wish," Killian said, standing and putting an arm around Emma, "I look forward to spending time with the little prince. No harm will come to your lad while your daughter and I are caring for him."

"Besides," Emma added. "It's Christmas Eve! Even the Snow Queen wouldn't dare attack on a day as magical as today. Go! Enjoy your shopping."

Snow looked unsure for another moment, and then she nodded, giving first Emma and then Killian a hug. "I won't be more than an hour. And don't forget! Call me if you need anything!"

"Goodbye, mom," Emma said, gently steering Snow toward the door. "And don't rush. Killian and I are excited about staying with Neal. Enjoy yourself!"

With one last worried look back at them, Snow finally left the apartment.

Killian smiled as he watched the hour unfold.

"Pleasant memory, brother?" Liam asked.

"Aye," Killian said, nodding to his other self, holding a sprig of mistletoe over Emma's head and then leaning in for a long, slow kiss. "As you can see the first quarter of that hour, while the prince finished his nap, was spent in quite the pleasurable manner."

"So it would seem," Liam said with a sly grin. "My prim and proper lieutenant brother has learned how to comport himself around the ladies."

Killian grinned back. "Aye, so he has. Although this particular woman, my true love, never ceases to keep me on my toes."

"As I said back in the Underworld, Killian," Liam allowed. "I was wrong about Miss Swan…or should I say Mrs. Jones? Love quite becomes you, and I have my charming sister-in-law to thank for that."

"More than you know, brother," Killian said, thinking about the years of pain and vengeance he'd given up when he met Emma.

A cry shattered the tranquility of the apartment, and Emma pulled her mouth free from Killian's with a groan. "Guess someone's up, and he doesn't sound like he's in the mood to be patient for his lunch. I better go get him."

Killian stopped her with a hand to her arm. "Let me, love. You're far more expert at using the miniature heating box to prepare Neal's bottle, and I've developed quite a fondness for your tiny brother."

Emma laughed and pecked him once more on the lips. "It's called a microwave, Killian," she said, moving in the direction of the kitchen.

"What a thoroughly illogical moniker," he responded as he headed toward the little nursery off of the Charmings' bedroom, the sound of Swan's continued laughter following him about his task.

"Let's follow," Liam said, heading toward the nursery, "this is the moment I particularly wished to bring to your memory."

Killian walked expertly to the cradle, reached in and maneuvered hand and hook beneath the infant, lifted him, and then placed him in the crook of his arm. Neal stopped crying as soon as he was in Killian's arms.

There you are, my little prince," Killian crooned to the child as he slowly walked back toward the apartment's common area. "Have you a smile for your Uncle Killian this afternoon?"

The little one continued peering up at his sister's boyfriend, content but stoic.

"He's too young to be smiling yet," Emma said, coming up behind him and looking at Neal over Killian's shoulder. "Won't start that for another month or so."

"So it seems," Killian agreed, turning his head to kiss her gently.

"Want me to feed him?" Emma asked reaching out for the baby.

Killian sat back onto the couch. "That's quite alright Swan," he said, reaching for the bottle, "I'd quite like to do it myself."

"Suit yourself 'Uncle Killian'," Emma said, curling up next to him, laying her head on his shoulder, and reaching over to hold little Neal's hand.

"Come, Killian," Liam said, putting an arm around his shoulders, "it's time we return to your home."

A moment later, Killian found himself back in his own home, seated once more before the fire and the magnificent Christmas tree. Liam stood before him. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he looked less solid, less corporeal than before.

"You sense it, do you not, brother?" Liam asked.

"Pardon?"

"You sense that my time with you is nearly over," Liam said. "I've completed my task, shown you what you needed to see."

"No!" Killian said, getting to his feet, trying to reach for Liam; his hand went right through his brother. "I've only just found you again."

"I'm afraid I must go, Killian," Liam said with a bittersweet smile. "Paradise calls to me. But brother, I know what's troubled you this night. I know your fears about your coming son. You mustn't be afraid; you will make a tremendous father. Until I see you again in the life to come, brother. Farewell."

And with that Liam faded gently away, his exclamations of delight the last thing Killian heard as his brother returned to his place in Paradise.

Notes:

-So this story is obviously based off of Charles Dickens's "A Christmas Carol". That's always been one of my favorite Christmas stories (and movies), so I thought I'd see if I could turn it into a CS story. In this version, of course, the returning "ghosts" haven't come to convince Killian to give up his miserly ways before he ends up dying miserable and friendless (and taking a one-way ticket south), but rather they've come to show Killian that he doesn't need to fear his coming fatherhood.

-Up next: Killian is visited by two more ghosts—one showing Christmas present and the other showing Christmas future. Will these ghosts—one a face very familiar to all of us, and one of them not—succeed in calming Killian's upcoming fatherhood fears?