Summary: "In which Alice is a very inquisitive little girl, and 'why' will be Killian's undoing"

Words: 997

((((A/N: Once again this comes from experience. I've helped raise my niece since birth, and this phase threatened to make me go insane! KnightRook fluff… and feels (cause apparently I can't write one without the other when it comes to this Father/Daughter duo) awaits you guys, so enjoy!

This is also on tumblr (black-wolf066 for those interested cause i do have work on there i haven't posted here). I;m taking bleebugs headcanon that "the pantry is magic", but adding my own little twist to it.)))

The Dreaded Why

How his late mother and brother survived him and his inquisitive stage, Killian will never know.

The moment Alice could talk and cognitive thinking and sentences had finally gained an outlet, question upon curious question came after. It began innocently enough, with Killian wholeheartedly embracing the joy of gracing his little starfish with his knowledge. She'd ask about the characters in the books he'd read her, and question why they had breakfast in the morning and supper in the evening ("why can't we have breakfast for dinner? I like eggs with bread and jam."). She was just as much a sponge for knowledge as he had apparently been at her age, and he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride for it.

Then came the dreaded phase of 'why'.

Not a day went by—not even an hour, if his sanity was being completely honest—where Killian didn't hear "But why, papa?"

"Why do the birds chirp in the morning?"

"They're early risers like you and I, little love."

"But why, papa?"

Or when it was time to corral his daughter into taking a bath.

"let's get you cleaned up, my little love."

"But why must I bathe, papa? I'll only get dirty tomorrow."

"You have sticky jam all over your fingers and face, Alice."

"But why?"

"Because you, my little pirate, stuck your hand in the jar when I wasn't looking."

"But why?"

"Come now Alice, you know the rules."

"But why, papa?"

Why was the sky blue? Why was the grass green? Why could people walk on two legs but the animals walked on four? Why were fruits sweet and vegetables bitter? Why were they called fruit and vegetables? It was a never ending chain of why's, and Killian was beginning to run out of answers, and a slight bit of patience, to give her.

But he would have suffered her endless innocent wonder for all of eternity, if it meant she wouldn't ask what he's always feared from the moment he took the plunge to raise her.

(***)

It was during one of his bi-monthly supply runs, when the fate's decided to ignore his plea.

Summer was nearly through, and with its end, fall and a bitter winter would begin. And there was still much to cook and preserve before then. Sure, their pantry was enchanted to give them everything they needed—a godsend during the first year of Alice's life—but the pantry wasn't enchanted to give them what they wanted.

Between her sweet tooth and his own, it was probably for the best, but marmalade jam was an absolute must.

"I need you to be good while I'm gone." He prompted; checking over the list of provisions needed for the fifth time since its creation the day prior. "What are you to do if someone, who isn't me, climbs the tower?"

"I'm to hide and stay very quiet."

He glanced up at her with a gentle smile of approval, chuckling at her chipmunk cheeks as she shoveled the last bite of porridge into her mouth.

"I won't be gone long, little love."

It was as he moved to place a kiss against her mess of curls, that she asked her next line of heartbreaking why's.

"Why can't I go with you, papa?"

Up until this point, Killian had always had an answer to give. Now, he found himself drawing a blank. He didn't want to lie to her, and at four, her intelligence was astounding, but he couldn't bear to be the one to shatter her whole world. Not now, when all he wanted was her innocence to last for as long as it could.

"Papa?" she broke him out of his stupor. "I promise I'll behave."

The jutted lip and her innocent words shattered his heart to pieces.

"I can't take you, Alice."

"But why?"

"I…"

Oh, what he wouldn't give to be in any situation other than this one. With a sigh he placed the list down on the counter, figuring another day wouldn't hurt anything, and rounded the island to scoop her out of the chair and into his arms.

"Do you remember that story I read to you last week?" he asked as he moved and settled them in the arm chair.

The pinch in her furrowed brow as she struggled to remember, would have made him chuckle, if it were any other situation.

"A witch had cursed a mean prince and his kingdom." She finally responded with a wide, gap-toothed smile; overly pleased that she remembered.

"Yes, that's the one." he ducked and bumped his forehead lightly against her own, savoring the high-pitched giggles the action garnered.

"Are you going to tell me another one of your stories?"

"No," he sighed and swept her curls back behind her pointed ears. "This isn't another one of my tales. In this tower, there used to be an evil witch. She had cursed it to keep a fair maiden locked away, but the witch had underestimated this fair maiden, and the cost was her own freedom."

"Are you sure this isn't another one of your tall tales?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowed and her bottom lip being chewed between her teeth; the sudden tension in her body giving her unease away.

"No love, this is real." He breathed deeply and continued with the watered down version. "The witch needed someone to take her place, someone of her bloodline. That someone… was you."

"So I'm trapped?"

The crestfallen expression on a face far too young, just about killed him. He couldn't even find his voice to answer as he nodded at her imploring eyes currently being filled with tears.

"But…" she trailed off.

"I'm sorry," He gently brushed the tears away with the rough pad of his thumb. "I was hoping I would have found something by now; but I promise you, that I won't stop until I do."

Her questions of why, came less frequently after that.