Disclaimer: Nope.
A/N: Warnings: Character death. Mildly graphic descriptions of birth.
Also, I have a penchant for taking liberties with time. The show often moves too fast for me to think believable.
"I don't want babes."
Killian said it so quietly, the rhythmic patter of the shower nearly drown out the words. It's only because they are pressed so closely, no air in between their forms as his arms tighten around her, that she catches them.
The whispered phrase echoes in her mind, startling her back to reality. Shaking off the adrenaline-fueled numbness she had been running on, Emma quickly catalogues her surroundings. She's in her house. Hook and her are standing together, half-dressed in their shower. She still has her tank-top and underwear on. He's still got his jeans and boots. She glances down at her hands and watches as clear water rolling through her fingers turns copper, slowly churning crimson as it swirls down the drain. There's still blood sticking persistently under her nails and she watches with morbid fascination as he unwraps his bad arm from her waist to hook a lock of grime encrusted hair into the spray. Her stomach churns and her fingers clench reflexively against his shoulder blades.
There's the remainder of sweat in his nape, out of the direct cleanse of the water. His boots still carry dubious stains that could be any number of bodily fluids Emma chose not to contemplate.
"Killian" She murmurs into the skin of his neck, tasting his saltiness and feeling the tight press of his hand across her back. Her voice sounds strange, as if she's been screaming or hasn't said a word at all today. For the life of her, Emma can't recall which it is in this moment.
She can literally feel his jaw clench against her cheek as his hook moves back across her shoulders trying to bring her, impossibly, closer and she reaches up to lightly trace the large, forming bruise on it. Emma takes a step back, knowing he will follow. It pushes him fully into the spray of the water and her heart lurches as it streams red from his bare fingers as well.
The sight of his naked hand triggers a sudden flash.
He's yanking them off one-handed, throwing his hand in the sanitation bowl and pulling it back out, wet.
The past hours (days?) register and Emma notices the drop of her shoulders, her weight leaning against his form. She's pretty sure that if he wasn't so exhausted himself, she'd be scooped up in his arms. As it is, his goal simply seems to be to pull her as bodily close as they can be without him being inside her.
Emma closes her eyes and simply leans, watching as the day flickers across her eyelids as she tries to get her tired brain to formulate a response to his softly spoken words.
He was holding her hand, that special (she may call it Emma-smile in her head, not that she'd ever cop to it) soft grin on his face while his fingers caressed her palm. He was teasing her about her "ridiculously-sugary-concoction" while drinking his own black coffee. She quipped back about having a drink "as black as his heart" which earned her a bop on the nose. It had been rarely easy, one of those perfect moments that Emma stored in her heart for the hard days.
Until, of course, their neighbor suddenly began swelling like a balloon.
Killian's friendship with Belle is one of the things that makes Emma glow with a secondary sort of pride. It had started, of course, with her prompting while Zelena was on the prowl and they suspected Gold might be back from the dead. She had wanted someone to guard the woman and Hook's infatuation with her made him an easy target for favours.
(She pulls a face at the memory of her own callousness, but he had been a pain in the ass back then.)
However, their comradeship had bloomed quite naturally on its own. Killian had ended up fighting for Gold against Zelena. Emma had learned, much later and on the prow of the Jolly Rodger, that he had told her tales of Baelfire as a cold comfort to having her lover taken twice from her.
("She loved him, in part, for the way he loved his son. It seemed only proper that she should know a bit about him."
"You're a good man, Jones."
"Jones? I'm not even relegated to Hook now?"
"Ruiner of moments. You are a ruiner of moments, Killian.")
They had bonded over a mutual love of reading (Emma, she of the prison GED had tried not to seem too jealous of their mutual bibliophilia whenever she teased Hook for his latest 500 page tome and subsequent book-club date with Belle a week later. She knew she had failed, however, when he locked eyes with her one night while thrusting into her and started murmuring about how
"Unbearably brilliant, Swan. So damned witty and sarcastic as fuck. I could live for three-hundred more years and still be bested by how bloody clever you are.")
and Belle had solidified their kinship when she forced her True Love out of town to save his life. Emma had walked in on them in the library during those subsequent peaceful weeks, discussing their mutual failings and fallings to the Dark One with the kind of scab-pulling air that only deep friendship proctors.
(She would stand, out of sight of the doorway and trying not to listen as her eyes wet, until they finished. She couldn't bear to break up those conversations.)
If they had been friends before Camelot, Emma know that Hook had leaned on her during the time before he knew he had died and become a Dark One as well. No one had empathized with his conundrum like Belle had. She was well-versed in the trouble of loving a Dark One. Privately, Emma had watched their interactions and made a vague mental note to personally donate to the library when it was all over. Belle's gentleness with Killian was a debt that she could never fully pay.
(She had tried to do just that, to be fair. However, Belle took one look at her money and flat-out refused.
"You're the Saviour, Emma. We all owe you something."
"Yes but-"
"I'll call Granny right now and tell her you tried to give me money. You won't be able to pay for your food for a month."
"...You know, I think hanging out with Ruby has made you scarier."
"He's my friend, Emma. It's just what people do.")
Which is why, when Belle walked in to Granny's weeks ago, awake and upright, Emma had been so damned proud of Hook for settling her aboard his ship. She had held him late after they made love that night, simply basking in the glow of a man who made himself good by his own hands.
("Darling, I was merely following the brightness of your star."
"Shut up, Killian. It's too late for poetry. Just take the compliment and go with it."
"Ruiner of moments, Swan. Ruiner of moments.")
Even if her lover and Belle hadn't been so close, it was hard to feel anything but admiration for her when she walked away, homeless, in order to protect her unborn child. Which was why she had been more than welcome on the next stool at Granny's dinner beside them. She had shown them her sonogram, and Emma had giggled over the image with Killian while they waited for Belle's rather unique order-
("It's the hormones, I swear. I never wanted pistachio and pickle pancakes before."
Red had just smiled indulgently.)
It was such a polaroid moment, Hook with his friend, Emma laughing, that she should have guessed it would be shattered because...Storybrooke.
"No, no, no. This can't be happening."
Belle's hand clutched at her rapidly expanding abdomen as both Hook and her starred on in shock for half a second.
And then she let out a wail and they sprung into action.
The suddenly very-pregnant Belle was put into Ruby's waiting arms as Emma dialed 9-1-1 and Whale to warn him of their arrival. However, before the sound of an ambulance could register, she heard Hook calling her over the operator.
"Swan, I don't think we can wait for the siren car."
Ambulance, was on the tip of her tongue to correct him. However, one glance showed Hook's hand and Belle's dress dark with saturation as the woman panted. Emma met Killian's eyes and she knew.
Her water had broke.
"Bug," She said decisively, marching before him and Red as they toted Belle between them. It was too big a squeeze for all three, so Ruby squeezed her hand and promised to meet them at the hospital while Killian wedged himself against the door to give Belle the most room. One glance back, and she saw him offering his hand for her to hold while another contraction forced her to cry out. Worry lined her lover's brow as he glanced back from the back seat.
She broke at least three speeding limits getting to the hospital, but Whale had either predicted her typical lack of impatience or their imminent need, and there was a wheelchair waiting her at the front doors. As Killian had held her waist to help her into it, the brunette suddenly gripped Emma's forearm. Hard.
"Do not let him near my baby." Belle hissed through her teeth, determination gritting against the pain. "Whatever you do, don't let him in."
It was as deadly serious as she had ever seen the woman, so Emma nodded. "I've got it. Now go have that baby."
They shared a slight, pained smile before she ushered Hook off with Belle and called Regina.
"I need a truly awesome protection spell, like five minutes ago."
In the end, it took fifteen minutes but both Regina and Zelena arrived to help.
("Why the hell should I care about the spawn of that man?"
"Because you know what it's like to have your child ripped from you. Would you really have another mother go through that?"
"...That was your fault you know."
"And you are free to never forgive me, but Belle deserves better."
"...I'll be there in a moment. You better remember this, Saviour.")
All and all, it could have gone worse.
So when Gold predictably showed up perhaps half an hour later, he beat uselessly at the spell bound by three witches and at least two kinds of magic.
("If it makes the Dark One cringe, we should team up more often."
"Enough sis, let's get through this crisis first.")
Once she was sure that Gold's blasting, flicking, and banging on the barrier had proved useless, she jogged over to the nurse's station to locate Belle's room. When she was read a statement about HIPAA, her patience waned.
("We are in a town magicked by an evil witch who is your mayor. The town psychologist is truly a cricket. My mother, a teacher, is Snow White. Granny's waitress is a werewolf. Your goddamn doctor is the creator of Frankenstein for god's sakes, and you want to lecture me on federal mandates for patient rights?!")
The poor girl all but stammered A23 but Emma didn't have the wherewithal to regret it. She had a room to get to.
A few swift steps and the numerated door opened under her swift fist. She was greeted by the sight of Whale and Killian, both wearing hospital scrubs. (Whale had his still righted but Hook's was askew, leaving his left side open. Both were covered in a worrying amount of blood.) Belle's hair was matted in on a pale brow as she panted, open-legged in the bed.
"What's going on?"
Whale's teeth gritted as Belle cried out over another contraction, one hand on his stethoscope above and one hand feeling on her belly. "She's too small. I suspect that Rumplestiltskin magicked her early delivery. Without the proper development though, her body isn't handling the strain and she's lost too much blood already for cesarean to be a viable option."
Bells' hips were still slender despite the basketball-sized lump under her sheet. She had always been a thin woman, but propped up on the hospital bed with the white lights draining her, she suddenly looked tiny. Her placid cheeks were streaked with tears and sweat and Emma vowed then and there that she would personally strangle Gold when all of this was through. The thought was pocketed as she stripped her red jacket and slid on an extra pair of temporary scrubs before dipping her hands in the sanitary basin beside the bed.
"What can I do?"
Whale gave her a short nod of approval and Killian blinked in shock before he followed her lead by extracting the hand that Belle was clinging to and giving her the Hook instead as he removed rings and sanitized his limb.
"She's going to need some manual force. Her muscles haven't developed the way they do in a 9-month course to push the baby. I can help with the dilation, but I'll need you both to help her move the baby."
Without hesitation, Emma slid a glove on Hook's hand before encapsulating both her hands. She gave the exhausted mother a warm smile before her hands settled on her swollen abdomen.
"Tell us when."
Whale nodded, procuring what looked suspiciously like a torture device from the rolling table beside them and putting it between Belle's thighs. From the way she gave a faint cry of discomfort, Emma could only imagine that Whale was using clamps to try and widen the vaginal trackway.
She winced in empathy.
Whale turned the screw slowly, trying to let his patient adjust as well as she could. After some time, the doctor nodded to Hook and Emma, who began to exert pressure on the swell of her abdomen in tandem time with the ripple of her contractions.
"Oh God, Oh God, I can't." Belle panted, her brow furrowed in pain and sweat. "Please, I can't."
Killian moved first, hook gently pushing some of her dark hair back from hanging wetly across her nose. "Ssh, of course you can. You've proven stronger than your bitty self time after time, Lady Belle. You've got this."
Belle gripped his hook harder in response, screaming into his ear while he made not a word of complaint, bearing down on her stomach with Emma.
Minutes or hours passed with Whale ushering orders in a firm, steady tone while Killian kept murmuring gentle encouragements into Belle's ear. Belle's cries and the beeping of machinery added to the cacophony as time stretched like taffy, becoming indiscernible.
At some point, Whale stood, his gloves dripping with blood and mouth pulled grim. "She's hemorrhaging. We need to act now if we have a chance to save the baby. It's too close for a c-section, but I can try to pull him out."
It's too late for her, he doesn't say but she can feel as Killian tensed beside her, understanding the unsaid. She almost suggests using her magic, but she feels the distant pull of it to the barrier and knows that she can't do both.
"Please," Belle pleaded, fat tears rolling down her face, vision glazed as stomach muscles clenched exhaustively. "Please, save him."
Blue met blue and she faced Hook as he audibly swallowed and gave a tense nod. "Aye love. We'll do our best to save the lad."
They pushed harder, forcing the baby through the unnaturally tight canal as the doctor lubricated his hands to reach into her. Awareness began to slip away as adrenaline took hold, making everything shaper and farther at the same time. A kind of nerve-numbing energy that kept them detached from what was going on in order to keep going. Whale kept calling commands. Left, right, harder. Belle's cries crested and then softened frighteningly into whimpers. Suddenly, Emma felt a strong pull in her own abdomen and cried out alarmingly.
Hook's grip lessened almost immediately on Belle as his love doubled over. "Swan?"
He looked torn between trying to keep pushing and moving to scoop her up.
Emma's vision swayed and she heard Regina's voice echoing in her skull. "He's here. He's too strong for us. You're running out of time, Emma. Ow-shit."
The pain pulsed through her again and this time she recognized it for what it was: penetration of their barrier. They had minutes left, seconds perhaps.
"Swan?" Killian had finally given up his post by Belle to come to her side despite the consternation of Whale. His brow furrowed as he crouched beside her before she waved him off, taking deep breaths.
"It's Gold. We don't have much time." She finally expelled, swaying but standing upright with his assistance once again.
"Yes, you two keep dilly-dallying and that will be quite true. Now help me!" Whale commanded, one hand keeping the woman pried open while the other reached for her child.
Snapping back, Emma and Hook resumed their posts. It was hard, pressing down her flesh while Belle whined weakly in complaint. She could hear Killian's teeth grind.
Another tug on her stomach. She heard Zelena scream in the back of her head. "He's coming!"
"Like bloody hell he's getting this babe." She must have given some physical indication of the words, or perhaps spoken because Killian ground out beside her as he pushed hard with the next contraction.
Emma stepped back to throw another barrier at the door and saw Gold briefly gnash his teeth at the door, unable to enter once again. It wouldn't last long, but if they were lucky, it would hold until they could secret the child away. His yells and threats were muted behind the white, rippling barrier, and Whale's call forced her attention elsewhere.
"He's here, push!"
The combined efforts of Emma, Killian, and Belle forced the child out of her and into Whale's waiting arms.
There was no cry.
Emma's ears were buzzing, her head fuzzy with adrenaline and magic. Distantly, she heard the pulsox's beeping slow with Belle's breathing, her heart monitor whining alarmingly. She felt the shatter of her barrier into her bones, would have collapsed at the sensation if Hook's brace hadn't suddenly been in her grasp, propping her up. Ruby's heels clicked across the floor as she followed him in. Ruby was crying, running her hand through Belle's hair and Gold was screaming as he reached Belle's other side, something about medicine and failures and nonsense that passed through her because there was no cry.
Emma felt her heart seize as the silence continued, still clutching at Killian. They kept their eyes on the red, wet thing in Whale's hands, even as the doctor swore and fumbled for an oxygen mask. The baby's lungs were cleared and Whale shouted for a defibrillator. Nurses came rushing in.
The overly-bright lights picked up the red of Belle's blood on Whale's smock, on the hospital sheets, between her fingers. Belle's arms had fallen into a crooked angle, one elbow limply loose. Hook's removed rings glimmered next to the still bowl of sterilization soap, next to the bowl of bloodied water. Red rags hung over the hospital bed, discarded and traded for new ones. The neon green light of the heart monitor was flat. Whale's crash-team had the a d-fib and called for a clear. Once. Twice. A third time. Finally, his face fell as he shook his head and called it. Ruby was sobbing and Gold was screaming and the nurses were buzzing, and all of it seemed more dream-like than reality.
"Time of death for Belle Gold, 11:42p.m. December 1st, 2016. Time of death for…"
Gold swayed in the room, his feet shaky. "Morpheus. He called himself Morpheus."
"Time of death for Morpheus Gold, 11:45p.m. December 1st, 2016."
Whale was shaking as he held the stillborn in his arms, his words about strangulation passing straight through Emma as she she registered that Killian was practically carrying her, her legs not willing to bear her own weight. Detachment kept creeping up her awareness, submerging her underwater.
Then, shit hit the fan.
It was Ruby first. There was a howl of pure anguish and suddenly she was on Gold, her long, painted nails scratching at his face. Rumplestiltskin, tears in his eyes, growled back and Emma swore she saw scales flash across his skin as he wove his hand and threw Red across the room. Her head made a sickening crunch when it made contact with the concrete and then nurses were rushing over. Whale was screaming, still holding the unmoving child and shouting about hospital protocol. Emma found herself dumped on the floor. She had to blink twice to register that her sudden deposit was due to Hook advancing on the crocodile. Ice entered her blood as she rapidly regained her awareness. Fuck, Gold was going to kill him.
"Killian-no!"
His good arm was wrapped around the crocodile's neck, squeezing the breath from him. Biceps bulged with the effort it took for him to lift the other man one-handed, making him airbourne. Pure murder poured out from his gaze. Gold wriggled, trying to free a hand from the tight pin as his face purpled.
"Do you know what you've done?!" Hook all but spat the words, clawing in the air with his metal attachment as he shook Rumplestiltskin. "Do you?"
Before the hook could lodge, Gold had a hand free and tossed Killian back, a face full of rage as he clenched his fist. Madness seeped into his eyes as Killian struggled to breath, grasping at his neck uselessly against magical hands.
"Me?! This is your doing, pirate." Gold spat. "If you hadn't kept her from me on that damned ship of yours, I could have protected them both!"
Emma threw herself bodily against Rumple. The hit dislodged his concentration and Killian sunk to the floor, swallowing in air. Quickly, she trapped his hands in hers, struggling on the hospital tile with the man. It was knees and elbows and hissing curses.
"Gold-stop it! It's not Killian's fault."
"You're right." He kicked back, swiping across her forehead hard enough to draw blood. "It was yours. Your barrier prevented me from getting to them in time. I could have stopped this, but you-Saviour-" The word came out like bile. "-You condemned them to death!"
Emma was under him and her blood turned to sludge, unable to reach her heart. She tried battering him off and in the corner of her eye, saw Killian lunge toward them, only to be thrown away again. His jaw hit the floor hard and distantly, she worried that he'd cracked something. Spots appeared before her vision and then in all the chaos, a strong voice rang out.
"Would you like to hold your son?"
The words broke the room, silence befalling as Whale approaching Gold with the baby in his arms and hard eyes.
"You killed them both," His voice echoed in the room despite his quiet tones, reverberating into skin. "Belle's body hadn't developed to hold the baby and she died trying to save him but she was so small...He couldn't get enough oxygen."
The violence deflated in the room, evaporating under the impounding grief. The curse lifted from Emma's chest and Rumple's face crumpled, more man than beast as he held his arms out to accept the child he would never meet. Gulping in air as her blood churned sluggishly once more, Emma remained on the floor as she watched him rock the boy, his tears spilling over and voice shaking as he murmured a lullabye in the middle of the unholy lights of the hospital room.
Then he was against the wall again, arms folded around his child, Hook's arm pressing him there and meeting no resistance.
His hand stayed tight around the Dark One's throat as he wheezed, wet faced and unresisting. Emma didn't register her movement until she saw her own hand pulling hard on Killian's forearm. His eyes, black with fury, turned slightly toward her.
She was so tired. So tired of it all. "Killian, enough. He's lost everything. Let him live with that."
Either her words, her tone, or the fact that she seemed to be barely standing reached him. With one last glance, he released Gold with a hard rattle into the wall. The man merely crumpled, clutching the stillborn and letting his knees hit the ground.
"This is your doing crocodile, the second wife you murdered."
Emma clung to Killian and as Gold's cries washed over her. "No, no, no. This wasn't supposed to happen."
They left him there. She had enough sense to check on Red, who some nurse assured her was fine but would be admitted overnight to check for a concussion. Then she went in pursuit of Zelena and Regina, who were unconscious but very much alive. Emma kept her grip still tight on Hook, either to prevent him from lunging back at Rumplestiltskin or keep her from curling into a ball on the floor, she wasn't sure but he seemed to need the reassurance of her presence just as much.
That foggy sort of awareness persisted as they left the hospital. She had no idea how they had gotten home. She may have transported them magically or perhaps they walked. She had no recollection of removing the scrubs or her sweater, of whether she spoke to anyone between the hospital or if Killian had the bruise on his jaw checked out before they left. A tingling numbness that had started with Belle's blood kept her limbs filled right up until his words broke through the heat of the shower.
"I don't want babes."
Thus they found themselves half-clothed, covered in placenta and blood while Emma felt her heart growing cold with the water as his words registered.
Killian's knees finally gave way, and they both fell in a tumble to the ground of the bathtub. The cold of tile reminds of her of her scraped knees. Her temple throbs and while usually within his arms is the safest place she could conceive, his touch rankles her. She moves to slide away and his arms band around her instinctively. He tries to catch her gaze, seeming to pick up on her ill mood.
"Emma it's not….a lack of wanting. I just can't…."
He doesn't need to finish. She gets the fear. He had watched his (possibly best) friend pass in childbirth literally hours ago. She's the saviour and pregnancy would make her vulnerable. Every child recently born in Storybrooke (Alexandria, her brother, even Robyn) had been threatened. Henry, hardly as weak as a baby, had been kidnapped. Logically, she gets it. These are all the arguments she had against having kids in Storybrooke. All of the arguments he had personally attacked, ravaged, and defeated almost three months ago.
"Babes?" Hook had mouthed months ago. It was the day after she saw him with Alexandria and it's been on her mind since then. After coming clean about her visions, she expected him to back away. Of course, her pirate turned unafraid of fate and had been pushing her instead to solidify her future. It was how she had ended up enrolled in cooking classes on Wednesday evenings. (Granted she had missed three of them, but still) He had booked her a spa day at some fancy place in New York in nine months, tongue in cheek and outright denying that Henry had any part in helping him use the Google-machine. They had picked out paint colours and he had ordered customized furniture from Marco set to be delivered in parcels.
He had also mentioned kids.
He'd said it on a lark, she's pretty sure. Just them laughing about throwing her pills out the window because
("Just think love, a little pirate with your eyes."
"What, you want to teach another kid to gamble?"
"Henry's proclivity to fleece your father is his own genius, I'll have you know."
"Ah huh. Wanna tell me where he got loaded die then?")
It may have started as a joke, but the longing look in Killian's eyes had turned the joke into her actually throwing her birth control pills out the window and seeing what happened. The idea of "actively trying" was a little too much for her, but the idea of a kid didn't scare her as much as it used to. She was financially stable. With a man she loved. Had a formidable support structure and, hey the schools here didn't suck that much.
("We'll leave it up to the fates love."
"Seriously? Last time the fates left me in prison."
"Hey, hey Swan, look at me. I want this, but only if you do too. I love you and Henry, but you must know, love that I would never ever leave you or our child. Nothing would make me change my mind.")
That was weeks ago. Weeks before Belle's death and Gold's guilt and this shower where they're both too exhausted to stand. So, Emma gets it. She really does. This is not Killian rescinding on his word. He's just fucking terrified.
And yet, a still, small voice echoes in her mind. You'll be alone again. He doesn't want this anymore. He'll leave.
She pulls away fully this time, her skin burning where he touched. She stumbles to her feet, arm holding onto the shower bar to stand. Her teeth are chattering and every muscle hurts, but she mentally debates leaving and seeking refuge in her parent's lost tonight.
"Swan?"
Emma doesn't face him, but a splashing sound behind her indicates that Killian has gotten up to follow her. She steps out of the shower without bothering to turn the water off, removing her wet clothes, grabbing the first towel and mechanically drying herself before stepping into their bedroom.
As much as she wants to run right now, even she accepts that it's an impossibility tonight. She's way too tired to drive and it's got to be nearly two in the morning. Her parents hardly sleep what with their new kid, she can't wake them up now. Wordlessly, Emma slips on a pair of underwear and has to hunt for her own pajamas.
(She'd taken to wearing his shirts to bed, but tonight she just can't.)
She slips under the covers and shuts her eyes, listening to him move. He's still for a moment, clearly trying to summize her strangeness. However, soon she hears the soft pad of bare feet on the carpet and the rustle of discarded towel being collected and deposited in the hamper. She feels the dip in the bed and and the covers open to the cool air only to close again. His heat lingers at her back and she squeezes her eyes shut tighter in defiance.
An arm goes around her waist, resting at the hand she had unconsciously pressed against her belly and Emma tenses.
"Swan-"
"Don't" She cut him off, shrugging the hand away. She ignores the slight tremble in her voice because she knows he's figured it out and she just has zero capacity to deal with it right now.
"I just-let's just go to sleep Killian."
Even with her eyes pressed shut, she can picture him leaning over her, concerned frown marring his brow. She seconds tick by as they both wait to see if he'll press the issue now or leave it to sit and finally he sighs quietly and presses a brief kiss to her crown before pulling away.
"Alright, love. Alright."
And as sleep pulls her under, Emma convinces herself that the wetness on her pillow is from showered hair and not the tears she won't let out.
She blinks her eyes open, blowing tangled hair out of her face. Emma frowns. Her bedroom is way too bright for 7 a.m. but even if she forgets her alarm Hook always get her up.
Then, it comes crashing back to her. Belle. The baby. Killian's words.
Said man is still beside her, one hand playing with her hand while his arm is wrapped protectively around her stomach.
Her gut churns. Emma swallows.
"What time is it?"
"Almost one. I called your father to take your shift, you needed the rest."
"Yeah, thanks."
"You're with child." It's not a question. He doesn't stop touching her but his tone is...sad.
Her lungs freeze. She should have left last night (morning), tiredness and hour be damned.
Emma swings her legs out of bed, grabbing the first thing she sees in her closet and tugging it on without turning to face him.
"Swan, don't leave. Please love I…" He's quiet and Killian, Killian who always knows what to say is floundering. It makes her almost physically sick.
Of course, that could be the morning sickness too.
She needs some air alone. Or perhaps with her mother.
"See you later."
She doesn't turn around.
Emma sends a quick thanks that David is already out of the house. While she loves her father, talking to him is only going to lead to threats of bodily harm to her pirate. And while she's stinging, she's still pretty sure she wants to keep him whole.
She enters the loft with what she is sure is a look on her face, but Mary Margaret makes no comment. Emma is settled onto the couch and a cup of cocoa is placed in her hands and her mother apologizes for Belle and asks about funeral arrangements.
The reminder that Belle is gone, that she died yesterday still startles her. The blood and the screams and the little, still bundle seem too nightmarish to be real. Stage one: denial enters the back of her mind only to get shoved back in its box. However, Emma does feel guilty for leaving Hook alone after the death of his friend. But her hand flutters to her stomach reflexively because he knew and he had been sad.
Mary Margaret doesn't seem to notice that she's lost her audience as she cradles Neal and keeps saying that it's not her fault and no one knows where Gold vanished after and
"-How is Hook handling all of this? I know he and Belle were close."
His name drags Emma back into the conversation.
"Mom. Mom, I need you to be quiet for a minute."
Eyebrows arched, she waits, pointedly.
Emma takes a deep breath. "Look, I know that Belle's death isn't my fault-
(-she can't even say the word baby. Can't contemplate that loss yet-)
"-and I don't know where Gold is and I'll get right on that when I can and Killian well-
(Doesn't want our unborn child anymore, are the words she won't let herself blurt out.)
-" He's upset, of course but I really really need you to stop being by mom for a second and just be my friend Mary Margaret, okay?"
The woman is question looks like she's just itching to pick up the phone and call David for backup. She manages to swallow however and put on a patient face. "Okay…"
Oh God. Emma had no idea how to start this conversation. "What if...What if after Belle realized she was pregnant, she didn't want the baby anymore? I mean…"
She had no fucking idea how to have this conversation.
Mary Margaret looks skeptical. "Emma, she spent every moment trying to protect her son why would you think that?"
"It's just-it's just hypothetically I mean after everything that happened…" Her throat felt clogged. No. Absolutely no waterworks.
Her mother touched her hand gently. "Emma, you don't stop loving your children even if you have to sacrifice for them. Think about everything we went through to get you away from the curse. Or Henry, you could have died in Neverland and you never blinked an eye at the thought of giving your life to protect his. Belle-" She breaks off to sniffle here, wiping her eyes quickly, "Belle would have been happy to die to protect her son. I'm sure of it. The best thing we can think now is that at least they're together."
The thought of the dead baby makes Emma's eyes swim again and she swallows against the clench in her gut. "Yeah but-but what about Gold? What if he knew-what if he didn't want-"
The rolling of her stomach, it turns out, is not grief but most definitely nausea. She jumps to her feet, startling Mary Margaret as she races for the bathroom, barely managing to slam the door before losing yesterday's (actually, they had forgotten to eat with the sudden birth thing, so- the day before's) dinner.
Mary Margaret's voice is muffled on the other side of the door, but Emma manages to shout out a quick "Fine!" before putting her head back in the toilet.
After the porcelain god had demanded whatever she had left and then some, she rests her cheek on the cold rim, trying to catch her breath.
"Emma," Mary Margaret calls from other side of the door.
She hears a heavy thump and realizes that her mother must have sat down.
"I don't know what a man like Rumpelstiltskin would choose," Her voice carries through the wood, every bit the ruler she once was. "I would like to think he would save his child, even if it cost him his wife, but I don't know."
Emma licks her lips, groaning as she stood to rinse the taste of bile out of her mouth, half-listening to her mother and half wondering what the hell made her think coming here was a good idea.
If this was going to be the next few months, she was going to kick something.
"But a man like Hook," That gave her pause. She shuts the water off, standing stock still by the sink.
"A man like Hook would always make the right choice, even if it cost him." Mary Margaret continued, softer.
She knew.
Emma swings the door open, ready to scream. Her mother, one of the least perceptive people on the planet, had figured it out. It had to be some mom spider-senses or something because talking about the shit that happened at the hospital yesterday was more than enough reason to upchuck.
Belle's blood smattering around the pristine white room flashes before her eyes and Emma has to force it away before it sends her scurrying back into the bathroom, focusing on her mother.
And there she was, cross-legged and smiling wetly up at her. "But even a man like Hook can get frightened, especially after just watching his friend die. Especially when he loves someone as much as he loves you."
Of course she was right. Of course he was just scared. Emma felt her own eyes tear up in response and she swears to god if she was this hormonal already this was going to be an awful few months.
Mary Margaret sniffs and stands, still smiling. She places her hands lightly on her daughter's stomach. "How far along?"
Okay. She is either going to have to get used to people feeling like they had a right to touch her or she is going to have to make a PSA announcement to the whole damned town that Emma Swan was not a tactile person, thank you very much.
This was her mother though, and she had shown up at her house to roundabout bitch about her boyfriend, so she figured the woman had earned some slack. "About six weeks."
Jesus, Mary Margaret is practically glowing. "When did you tell him?"
"Um…" Thinking back to it, that had been pretty shitty timing.
Suddenly, Snow scowls. "Emma Swan, did you really tell him right after he watched Belle and her son die? No wonder he got scared!"
Emma is vaguely thankful that her mother's hadn't always been around. That tone is terrifying. "I mean I didn't-It wasn't like I said anything or planned it-It just-He just figured it out."
Mary Margaret's scowl just deepens. "Wait, so you've known for-how long-and didn't tell him?!"
Seriously, this is her mother. When did Hook become the favourite kid? "I wasn't trying to keep it from him...it's just-I needed some time and then everything is always so crazy-"
"Well then, you are going to drink some chamomile and eat something, and then march straight back and have an actual conversation with Killian. The poor man is probably worried sick right now. Did you even tell him where you were going?"
Guilt makes her shoulder slouch, resting heavy on her breastbone. Nah, I walked out on him in what was probably a gross overreaction and possible hormonal fit after he watched Belle die. No Biggie. "No. Look, I should probably go back now before he calls David to start a search party-"
Mary Margaret ignores her, shuffling into her kitchen and rattling around the cupboards. "Tea. Food first, Emma. I doubt you've eaten anything today and you've really need to start taking care of yourself now."
She has a kettle on the stove and a mug awaiting while Emma stands dumbly in the living room until her mother shoots her a sharp look that let her know that this was a princess and her orders were to be followed.
"Right," Emma slides into a chair at the table.
Smiling once again, her mother moves with enviable grace to the fridge. "What are you eating these days? You know you can't keep living off Granny's. I have some recipes from when I was pregnant with Neal in Storybrooke. Have you made an appointment with Whale yet? I know it's a little uncomfortable but-"
A blonde head sinks to the table with a thud. "Oh my God. This is what it's going to be like for nine months, isn't it?"
Her mother just laughs. "Oh, you think I'm bad? Just imagine Hook and David. You're not going to be allowed to walk anywhere."
"Oh. My. God." Because, yep. Her overprotective father and already terrified boyfriend were going to be obnoxious about this.
"Oh, and Emma sweetie?"
She groans and hears a plate being placed by her head, chancing a look back up. "Yeah?"
Mary Margaret pulls her into an awkward, tight hug. "I am so happy for you. I love you so much and I can't wait to meet my new grandchild."
Emma's eyes are suspiciously shiny again (Seriously, she was going to blame hormones every time this happened) and she is abruptly unspeakably grateful for the family she had this time around.
On pain of death, she would deny it, but Emma burrows slightly into the hug. "Love you too mom."
"And I'll tell your father not to kill Hook."
She sent Killian a quick text to let him know that she was okay and left her mother's loft with a tupperware container of Mary-Margaret-approved leftovers under her arm. She opened the door to a quiet house and set the container on the table. Emma was digging in her phone to call Killian and find out where he was when she's hit with another wave of nausea.
This was getting old fast.
She bolted upstairs to the bathroom, dropping to her knees immediately and trying to remember how bad or how long this bit lasted when she was pregnant with Henry. Head stuck in the bowl, she Emma doesn't immediately register that she is not alone.
She doesn't hear him above her own gagging noises, but she feels her hair being pulled back while a cool, soothing touch rubs gently against her neck. When Emma is reasonably sure that she won't ruin her shoes, she chances a glance behind her to see Killian braced behind her, a glass of water waiting by his hip. When their eyes meet, he nudges her to lean back until he's taking all of her weight and her head rests on his shoulder. He hands her the glass of water and Emma just breaths for a moment before gulping it down. When she's sure her stomach is reasonably settled, she goes to stand up and off the cold tile, only to get pulled down by a strong arm that tugs her back into his chest.
Killian curls around her, holding her tightly to him. "Swan just...I know I fucked up but please darling, please let me make it right." He sounds so despondent, so desperate that she feels her heart beat heavier for every moment she spent away from him this afternoon. "Please love, just let me care for you."
He think she's still angry with him, Emma realizes. He thought she was trying to pull away again.
"It's not that...Swan, you have to know that it's not that I don't want a child with you. Henry is already such a great lad and I adore the idea of a little one but…"
But, I'm terrified, she hears. And she remembers Belle's blood and the little boy that would never cry and she understands, she really does.
All alone. He'll leave you all alone.
You can go to hell, she tells that voice in her head. Because Killian loves her and wants this and he's scared and she ran and she's done.
"I'm sorry I left you alone," It's the first real thing she's said to him since the hospital and Emma reaches for the forearm braced against her, fingers running soothing patterns. He's not looking at her, shaggy head buried in her shoulder, breathing her in. "I know Belle was your friend. I shouldn't have-I'm sorry."
He shifts, head burrowing deeper into her and hand reflexively grabbing onto one of hers, slotting their fingers together. She gives him a squeeze.
"I'm not angry. I mean I know I-I don't think I was ever angry. It's just that...I mean I'm scared too. Obviously, I don't think you're going to try to speed up my pregnancy with dark magic or anything but last time I was here, I had just been abandoned and I was in jail and I-I was alone."
He's careful with the unflexing, but gentle hold of his arms but if he presses against her shoulder any harder he's going to break skin with his nose. Emma can't bring it in herself to call him out for it though. Every taut line of him let's her know that he needs this. Hook needs to hold her, to know that she is here and safe and okay. He needed it last night and she had denied him.
She's pretty sure it's just guilt that churns her stomach this time.
"I know Swan," His voice is hoarse behind her. "I know and I am so sorry for how I reacted but you have to know that I would never-"
Emma tries to nudge his head up with her nose, nuzzling into him. "Hey, I know. I do. It was just...a lot yesterday and it's hard not to think about the past sometimes."
Killian snorts in her hair, following her urging to lift his head and meet her eyes.
His eyes are suspiciously red and unlined and her breath nearly stutters, her hand lifting from his arm to stroke through his nape.
"Hard to forget about the time you were left pregnant in the brig? Aye, I would imagine." The joke falls flat, the upturn of his lips too heavy. Emma wants to erase it with her thumb and paint the usual smirk back on his face. No one that beautiful should ever be this mournful.
"Yeah well, it's okay." She guides the hand entwined with hers to rest on her flat belly, holding his gaze. "We have you this time."
Killian trembles, blinking his eyes suspiciously and pressing his lips to her hair to keep them from wobbling. "Yes but so did Belle and I couldn't-Emma what if-what if I'm not enough? What if I can't protect you both? What if-"
She shushes him with a gentle kiss, thumbing his cheeks. She makes sure he's looking at her again before she speaks. "Killian, I was there too. What happened to Belle and…" Emma's actively fighting against tears now too. "...wasn't your fault. Whale did everything he could but sometimes you just can't-"
A frightened, haunted look flickers through his eyes and Emma realizes just what she's said. "Whoah, whoah Killian. It's okay. It's the 21st century. We have TV, take-out, and all sorts of things to make pregnancy safe. It's really rare these days for someone to die having a kid. I mean, I head Henry chained to a bed and without an epidural and I survived."
Hook's jaw clenches at the reminder of her past treatment but Emma studies him, considering. She knows that they are literally from different worlds but this is the first time she's considered how different their experiences with childbirth may be.
"My mother died having me," He reads the question in her gaze and she starts, but he blusters on. "Being in the hospital as often as we end up, I had surmised as much or else I truly may not have been comfortable with it. It's just...yesterday with Belle…"
Emma turns to her side, keeping his hand still pressed with hers on her abdomen but wrapping the other around his back, snuggling deeper as he trembles quietly. It's an almost awkward half-cradle, but he places gentle, wet kisses on her head in gratitude.
Christ, no wonder the man is scared. He lost his mother and his friend. Killian had never spoke of his mother and Emma, understanding old wounds, never asked.
She hates his father a little more for abandoning them.
She loves Liam a little more for staying with him.
Hook swallows against her cheek. "I have never wanted anything more than I want a family-Henry, you...our child," his fingers move to stoke the tender flesh lightly. "It's just-I feel some days as though I'm being greedy, love. I spent centuries being a villain, ripping apart other families without a thought to it. And now...now we have this home and...gods, Swan I love Henry and you...and it feels like having a child of my own, a child with you," Killian's looking at her in that soft way he does, as though she personally hung the moon and scattered the stars. "It's asking for too much. I haven't deserved this much happiness and Swan, I am terrified that it's going to be taken from me."
He's shaking again as he speaks and Emma feels her throat swell, swallowing heavily against the lump. He's looking as wildly as he did when she stepped into the darkness and Emma's very soul aches for him because he has lost her and she him. Over and over.
Well, fuck that.
"Killian, hey, Killian," She finally releases his hand to hold his head, jaw trembling under her touch. "Look at me. Together, we beat Pan, beat time, beat darkness, we defeated Hades together. And that was when we were just fighting for each other."
Hook looks like he might object to her being just anything, so Emma barrels on before he can interrupt. "So I can't imagine that there's anything we can't do to protect.." She gestures at her stomach because it seemed to impersonal, but him or her?
Killian chuckles softly against her throat and just that sound was worth fighting through the Underworld for. "It's called a babe, love. It's a babe." The sound dies and he looked down in awe, still stroking her abdomen. "Our babe….our child."
There was such sheer wonder in his voice and Emma had no idea how she had ever doubted this man, this man who stared, open-mouthed while stroking her belly like he had never seen anything like her before. Like he would kill and die just to look at her, in this moment.
"I love you Swan."
She was going to rub the obvious tears clinging to his eyes in his face some other time. Some fearsome pirate. He didn't have hormones to blame. Right now, though, she just curled further into him.
"Love you too."
"Are you tired love? I can take us to bed. Or I can make you something to eat. Yesterday was so busy you didn't have time to-"
"Fuck, Mary Margaret was right. You're going to be a pain in the ass about this, aren't you?"
"...This being your well-being while carrying our child?"
"Yeah."
"Yes. I am going to be a pain in the arse about it as as stubborn as you are now, I expect you may string me up in a hormonal fit at some point. I'll do my best to remind you that you once liked me and endure."
"God, just wait until David knows. He's going to be worse."
"...Fuck."
"Yeah, he might kill you."