First attempt at a WAY non-canon pairing. Just another possibility for Hook, I suppose. I do love Killian.
He's failed again. It's been three days since both of his enemies chewed him up and spit him back out, leaving him an outcast with nowhere to stay in this awful, heartless world. Milah is probably rolling in her watery grave, forever disappointed by the man who could not save her. The sheriff is no longer understanding of his case…not after he took her son hostage. A stupid mistake he'd made in his desperation upon finding out that Rumpelstiltskin's son was the boy's father. If he'd kept his head, he might have recognized the dark eyes of the man who was once the boy he'd fought many times over the years. He'd returned with Emma and Hook had written him off as nothing but an ignorant outsider.
A stupid mistake.
It had been as if no time had passed at all, fighting with the agility of practice. He couldn't fly here, but somehow, he didn't need to. The man could climb and scale as if gravity weren't an issue. And what had come out of fighting Milah's husband and son? He'd lost his hook, his ship and any hope of building a new life for himself. Revenge, it seemed, was easier said than done. And Emma had been right. She'd told him that you fight and you fight and if you win, all you've done is hurt someone else. And if you lose, all you've done is hurt someone. So, do you really win? Does anyone?
In the end, Milah is still dead and Killian is still alone. Nothing changes.
And he doesn't want to live this way anymore. He's tired of being angry. He's tired of fighting. So, he manages to scrape up enough money to buy him a bottle of rum, ignoring the hateful stares of the shoppers in the store as he pulls his filthy coat tighter around him and heads for the only place that makes any sense to him.
The marina.
He considers stealing a boat and running off to explore the corners of this world, but he's lost the desire to explore. The only thing that sounds halfway appealing is getting piss drunk and blacking out until he forgets what a sham his miserable life has become. He climbs into the first boat he sees, a simple sailboat named 'Calypso'. Rolling his eyes, he sinks onto the cushion, taking a long swig of his rum and staring into the black abyss of the water.
The sea is a fascinating entity. Sometimes calm, sometimes vengeful. It can both be beautiful and terrifying…sometimes together. Many a night he'd spent lying on the Jolly Roger with Milah in his arms, letting the waves lull them into a gentle slumber after a raucous round of lovemaking. He thinks of her face, olive skin framed by dark hair and light, light eyes. He remembers the way she used to ask him to tell her a story every night.
He remembers after she was gone and he was in Neverland, seeing that boy staring at him with her face. The only thing he hadn't inherited is her eyes. The impish smile and the impossible mop of dark hair…it made Killian hate that child for looking so like her. There was that same yearning for adventure in his eyes…a yearning that Killian had wanted to squash, because all that boy had been was a reminder of what he and Milah couldn't have together.
Now, that boy has a boy of his own, and Killian hates the shame he feels for all he's done to that boy and all of those lost boys in Neverland. He hates that he's no longer cold and unfeeling. That seeing the love Milah's son had for his own child hurt him more than any sword or spell ever could. Seeing his love for Emma…a reminder of what he couldn't have; could never deserve.
And suddenly, he's looking into the inky water, thinking about letting himself sink to the bottom while the world slowly fades away…along with his agony. His bottle is empty.
He's alone.
Lucy Morgan is on her way home from the animal shelter after closing, pulling her wool coat tightly against her body and blinking up at the dark sky. It's going to snow, she can smell it in the air. She's always been keen with weather. She knows that she should get home quickly, before it starts, but as always, she takes the long way so that she can drive by the marina and stare at the water. She's been doing this as long as she can remember, even before the curse was broken and she was still terrorized by false memories of the hideous accident that took her mother from her.
Now she knows that's a false memory, but it's no less terrifying because now she has two memories of her mother's death, and she can't decide which is worse. So, she chooses not to decide at all, instead focusing on just being Lucy Morgan since she failed at being her true self anyway. Lucy can't bring herself to go to her father, even though she knows he's looking for her. Not when he's still living with that…monster. It makes her angrier than anything, even though Lucy knows he doesn't know who Octavia really is. And there's nothing she can do about this, because she can't tell him. So, she stays away, keeps to herself and hides behind the nuns who took her in.
She parks near the docks, looking out at the flashing lights from the lighthouse and tries to remember when she was very young and the sea didn't frighten her. She tries to recall when the very thought of being in it wasn't the subject of her nightmares, new and old. She sees a girl, sitting on a rock and wishing for things she couldn't have. She sees a stupid girl, who fell in love with a prince and paid dearly for it…is still paying for it.
She sees a man jumping into the icy cold water.
Before she's thought better of it, Lucy is out of her car, running after him, wishing he could hear her voiceless cries. She hesitates only for a moment, looking down into the water. When he doesn't resurface immediately, she removes her coat with trembling fingers and holds her breath as she jumps into the frigid sea, ignoring every instinct screaming at her and swimming as fast as her legs will allow. She sees him, lingering near the bottom of the shallow marina and grabs the sleeve of his coat, dragging him upward, struggling to get them both above water.
Mercifully, there is a security guard on duty, who heard the commotion and sees them surface and helps her by pulling the man out of the water and giving her a hand. Lucy ignores her chattering teeth as she brushes the older security guard out of the way and pushes her long braid off her shoulder, feeling for a pulse. The man is not breathing. She holds his nose and breathes into his mouth, before pushing on his chest as she's been trained to do in first aid. It doesn't take but two tries for the man to cough up water and open his eyes, which are a piercing devil's blue. He mumbles something that sounds like a woman's name, but she can't be sure. One thing that she is sure of, however, is that he is drunk. The smell of alcohol on his lips, paired with the odor of a man who hasn't bathed in weeks, is overwhelming. She nods her thanks to the security guard and, with his help, puts the man into the front seat of her car before grabbing her discarded coat and finding some comfort in its dry warmth.
A feeling of triumph comes over her as she pulls away from the marina with the sleeping man she saved. She's overcome her fear of being in the water…if only she could find it in herself to be less afraid of what's in it. The drive to her small apartment is short and she's able to get the man on his feet long enough to walk him inside and into the elevator. He's still muttering nonsense about 'Milah' and 'Pan', but at least he seems like he's had little to no brain damage.
He collapses onto the sofa, effectively soaking it with cold sea water, but she quickly sees about removing his wet clothing and fetching some towels to dry him and herself. Lucy knows that she's supposed to be modest and worry about decency with men, having been raised by nuns and training to become one herself, but the other side of her – the true side – doesn't even blink as she strips the heavy, foreign clothing off of the man and dumping it into a pile near the door, along with her own wet clothing, dragging on her bathrobe. She has nothing to offer him, in terms of clothing, so she settles for draping a fleece blanket over him and leaving him to sleep it off while she showers.
Her hair is matted with salt and seaweed and is rough to the touch as she removes her braid, letting it fall in wet, unruly red waves to her waist. For a moment, she can almost remember who she used to be, but pushes it out of her mind as she steps under the hot, welcoming spray of her shower. She recognizes the stranger, he's been in Storybrooke long enough for her to know who he is and what he's done, but she recognizes him from before. From back home. She'd seen his ship from time to time…had been warned by her father to stay away. It had, in fact, been a ship like his where she'd first seen the prince she'd saved. And loved. And lost.
She hasn't thought of him in a very long time, that prince, but she still sees his face every time she closes her eyes. Sees that dark, black hair and those sky blue eyes…not unlike the man she just saved from drowning tonight. The irony is sickening. It's as if fate is tormenting her, trying to make her relive her past and face her demons for its own sick pleasure. It's bad enough, seeing her father's face in town, just friendly Ted Morgan who owns the aquarium and is married to beautiful Octavia…the woman he left Lucy's mother for.
But Lucy remembers the truth. Her mother has been dead since she was three. There was no boating accident. Ted never left Rose Morgan for Octavia. She isn't suffering from any Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. No amount of therapy is ever going to make her voice come back. She's not a nun. She's not even human. Maybe it's why the fairies are so welcoming to her. She's a princess, but there was no happy ending for her. True love did not conquer all, because her prince didn't choose her…and his choice cost him his life. It was all very sad, really, because even though the betrayal of his choice still stings and makes her heart ache…she's even more heartbroken that he's gone. Because, she still loves him.
She misses home. She misses her sisters, and music and her friends. She misses singing, maybe most of all. She wants her father back, and she wants to find some shred of happiness in this new life. Working at the animal shelter makes her happy. Helping people makes her happy. But she is not happy. She's alone, and she's a coward with no purpose in life other than to hide.
She remembers a girl who was adventurous to a fault, disobeying her father and sneaking out of her bed at night to go exploring. She thinks of the days when she could find joy in something as simple as a twisted old fork. Her story has been told multiple ways by multiple people, but it never ends the same. Some versions have happy endings…some are tragic. But the point is, they're all different, because her story never ended. Lucy is still living it, and trying to decide whether she's better off this way…or if Ariel is still within her.
Either way, she's just a lost little mermaid.