While You Were Out

"Are you sure you don't want me to see if Belle can come by?" Emma asked, putting a hand on her daughter's back.

Killian hitched the girl up higher on his hip. "We'll be fine, love. She's perfectly safe with me." He tried not to sound offended. This was the first time Emma was going to be away from Sophie for an entire day. As much as Emma needed this trip with her mother, Killian knew it was causing her a great deal of anxiety.

Killian wrapped his free arm around his wife. The cold metal of his hook made contact with her arm but she didn't seem to notice. Emma never really noticed the hook anymore. In fact, Killian sometimes got the feeling that she forgot it was even there.

"I know she'll be safe. I'm not worried about that." Emma's words did not erase the crease between her eyebrows.

Killian smiled at her. "I know, love. But Boston isn't that far away. And anyway, If we need anything I will call Belle. Or David, or Robin, or Henry. There is no shortage of people in this town who will come to our aid at a moment's notice."

Emma attempted a smile and Killian knew he had gotten through to her. He grinned and kissed her. "Now go. Mary Margaret is waiting."

Emma said goodbye to their daughter, kissed them each twice more and then left. Once the door closed, Sophie started to cry.

"No, shhh, don't cry love. It's okay. Mummy will be home tonight." Killian walked quickly away from the door. He did not want Emma to hear Sophie crying and change her mind about leaving. Ever since Sophie was born, Emma had been anxious at the thought of leaving her. She was fine leaving her daughter with Killian or her parents for a few hours at a time while she was at work, but she had never yet spent an entire day so far from Sophie. When Mary Margaret came to Emma with the idea of the trip, she reminded Emma of her own anxieties after Neal was born. It was only through Mary Margaret's loving encouragement that Emma agreed to it at all.

Killian began to bounce gently, trying to sooth his daughter. He rested her weight on his hip and wrapped his left arm around her, his hook sticking out in front of them while he patted her back with his right hand. Then he began to hum a quiet sea chantey that he had learned centuries before. It had brought him comfort on those long, lonely nights at sea. Standing here in their house, holding his daughter, it brought him comfort once again. Sophie stopped crying and looked up at her dad. Killian smiled at her.

As she now appeared to be in a much better mood, Killian gently set her down on the floor and handed her a collection of building blocks from a nearby shelf. Then he headed into the kitchen, yawning as he pulled a box of tea from the cupboard.

When the water was brewing, Killian went to check on Sophie. She was no longer sitting beside the blocks. In fact, she was nowhere to be seen at all. A slight flutter of panic danced around his heart.

"Sophie?" Killian double checked that the gate on the stairs was locked. It was. He walked quickly down the hall and looked through each of the rooms but he couldn't find her anywhere. He was really starting to worry now. For someone who had only been walking for a few short months, she was surprisingly quick. Killian looked behind the couches and in the corners of every room but he couldn't find her anywhere. At last he heard a giggle. A very distinct, familiar giggle coming from the bathroom.

"Oh no." Killian muttered as he hurried down the length of the hall to the bathroom at the far end.

Sophie had unrolled an entire role of toilet paper and thrown the wad into the toilet. The cupboard under the sink was open and all of her bath toys were scattered across the floor. Sophie was sitting quite contentedly in the midst of all the chaos, squeezing an entire bottle of shampoo out onto the tile in front of her.

Killian was absolutely speechless. How could she have done all that in the two minutes he spent looking for her? How did he not see her, or hear her as she dismantled their bathroom?

"Sophie, no. Don't do that." Killian took the shampoo bottle from Sophie and tossed it into the sink. The little girl began to cry. Killian then grabbed what dry toilet paper he could and threw it in the trash, flushing the rest down the toilet and praying it didn't clog. Sophie began to cry louder. Killian whispered "shh" to try and quiet her as he looked around for something to mop up the large puddle of shampoo that was oozing over the floor and staining his daughter's pajamas green.

Killian thought he could hear something else but it was hard to make out over Sophie's crying. As she took a breath between shrieks, Killian recognized the high pitched whistling of the forgotten tea kettle in the kitchen.

He lifted Sophie into his arms and fled from the room. The soap on Sophie's pajamas left green marks on Killian's T-shirt but this did not bother him. Most of his clothes bore some marks or stains by this point. It was an occupational hazard of fatherhood.

By the time they reached the kitchen the whistling was so loud that it distracted Sophie, who stopped crying and watched her father removed the tea kettle from the stove with his hook. He shifted Sophie from one arm to the other and poured water into his tea mug. He knew he couldn't carry Sophie and his cup back to the bathroom. Killian took a few sips of the scalding hot tea before leaving it on the counter and walking back toward the bathroom.

Killian set a still soapy Sophie down carefully on the bathroom floor and mopped up the shampoo with a towel. Then he turned on the bathtub faucet. Killian tested the water with his hand and set the plug. He gently removed Sophie's green stained clothes, set her in the tub and turned off the water.

Killian dropped Sophie's toys in the bathtub and watched his daughter as she contentedly played with a small plastic tugboat. The soap still clinging to her skin dissolved in the water and Sophie giggled as she played with the resulting bubbles. With a deep sigh, Killian sat back and rested against the wall next to the bathtub. Sophie looked around at him and plucked a toy sailboat from the water. This she handed to her father, who smiled.

"Now, this. This is a decent little boat." he said, inspecting the plastic vessel. "Nothing like the Roger, of course. But it has merit." Sophie looked vaguely at him before returning to her own boat.

"This is the mast." Killian said, both trying to engage her but also just enjoying the toy itself. He pointed to the front of the boat. "This here's the bow and the back's the stern. The left side's Port and the right's Starboard. " He looked over at his daughter, but Sophie had moved on to play with the toy animals that were floating amidst the bubbles.

"Ah, not to worry." he said with a smile, "We'll make a pirate out of you yet."

The rest of the morning passed by pleasantly and soon they were sitting down to lunch. Killian grabbed two cubes of baby food from the freezer and stuck them in a bowl in the microwave. Mary Margaret came by about once a week with a stockpile of homemade baby food and put it in their freezer. Emma protested at first, but her mother insisted that she needed something to do with herself. Some people had a difficult time adjusting to the quiet life.

After lunch Killian brought Sophie back upstairs for her nap. Killian read her the books he knew she loved and rocked her in the rocking chair. Sophie waved her arm in the air and babbled to herself; clearly not at all interested in sleeping. After five minutes or so, her arm grew heavy. It came to rest at her side and she snuggled closer to her father. Her eyes closed. Killian waited a few more minutes to make sure she was really asleep. Then he slowly stood up and set her in her crib. The little girl's eyes fluttered. Killian froze, waiting, but Sophie did not wake up.

Killian backed away slowly and, not watching where he was going, stepped on a forgotten toy. Immediately "The Wheels on The Bus" began to play loudly. Killian scrambled to silence the toy but the damage had been done. Sophie began to wail again. She opened her eyes and stood up in her crib. With a groan, Killian walked back to the crib and picked her up. They returned to the rocking chair.

Five minutes later, Sophie was still awake. Ten minutes. Twenty. It seemed that now she was up, Sophie had no intention of falling back to sleep. Eventually Killian gave up and the two of them exited her bedroom. Sophie babbled cheerfully and smiled up at her father.

That lasted for about thirty minutes.

This is what they don't tell you about children, Killian thought to himself; without sleep they turn into something else. Something non-human. As mid afternoon rolled around and Killian endured the third straight hour of the sleepless, screaming, rampaging Sophie, Killian decided she sounded just like the banshee he had encountered centuries ago on one of his many voyages with The Jolly Roger. In fact, as Sophie's screams pushed the last ounce of reason from his mind, he thought he'd prefer another go at the banshee.

"Sophie, no! Don't do that." Killian quickly picked Sophie up from the kitchen table where she had somehow managed to climb and set her back down on the floor.

"Sophie no, don't eat that." Killian grabbed the bowl of cat food off of the floor as Sophie reached for a handful to shove in her mouth.

"Sophie no, love. No." A defeated Killian collapsed on the floor of the living room beside his daughter, who was happily pulling all the books off of the bookshelves. He closed his eyes and squeezed his temple with his thumb and forefinger. He could not remember ever feeling as exhausted as he did right now. Killian usually watched Sophie when Emma was at work, but never had he been alone with her for so long and never had she been this upset. Sophie had always been a happy, content baby. So unlike the screaming, sobbing, sixteen month old version Killian now had to endure. He thought briefly about calling David or Robin, but his pride got in the way. He wanted to prove to Emma (and himself) that he could care for her on his own, just as he had many times before.

He felt a tug on his left arm. Looking down, he saw Sophie playing with the little rubber square stuck on the tip of his hook. He remembered, with a great jolt of guilt, the reason he covered the end of his hook.

Sophie was only a few months old when it happened. Killian's hand slipped. He moved his hook too quickly to make up for it and Sophie's arm was deeply scratched. Emma healed it immediately with a wave of her hand yet Killian never forgave himself. To this day he could still hear her high pitched wailing. He took off his hook that day and vowed never to wear it again.

Emma had other ideas.

"Why aren't you wearing your hook?" She asked him.

"It's not worth the risk." Killian said shortly.

"You mean what happened earlier? With Sophie?" Emma asked, perceptive as always.

"That could have been far worse than it was." Killian shuddered at the thought.

The fear, the guilt of what could have happened to his daughter hit him like a sharp blow to the gut. Emma placed a hand on his cheek. Killian kept his eyes down.

"Hey." Emma said quietly, "look at me."

Killian obliged. "I hurt her." he said quietly. "I know you healed it but what if you couldn't? What if it was much worse? What if I-" He couldn't bring himself to say any more. Emma could see anguish in ever line of his face.

"But Sophie is fine," Emma said soothingly, "You don't have to remove your hook."

"Yes I do." Killian said firmly, "It's too dangerous."

"It doesn't have to be." Killian furrowed his brow. Emma continued, "There is another option. We can cover the end of it." Emma offered.

"It would be easier if I just got rid of it. I think I still have that fake hand somewhere."

"That hook is a part of you." Emma said quietly, "You shouldn't hide who you are from our daughter." With another wave of her hand, a little rubber stopper appeared on the end of his hook. Emma had been right, of course. His hook no longer posed a threat to Sophie or anyone else. And the little girl seemed to take a liking to it.

Sophie was still pulling on his hook. Killian was too tired to argue. She pulled harder and harder and suddenly with a small pop, the hook detached from his arm. Killian and Sophie both looked in surprise at the hook now sitting in her hands. Killian started to laugh. Then Sophie began to laugh too. The two of them sat and laughed at the hook in Sophie's hand and suddenly the last three hours of tears and tantrums seemed to disappear. As they sat there laughing someone knocked on the door.

Killian stood up, leaving his hook with his daughter, and walked to the front door.

David stood at their doorstep, holding Neal in his arms.

"Hi Kil'an!" Though Neal was articulate for a two year old, Killian's name was still hard for him to pronounce. Killian ruffled his hair and stood aside to let them in.

"I see you lost a limb." David joked, pointing to his left arm.

Killian nodded and pointed his stubbed arm toward Sophie. "Ah." David said with a smile. He set Neal on the ground and the toddler made a beeline for Sophie. Killian managed to get his hook back and reattach it. Then he and David sat in the living room while Sophie and Neal made use of the array of toys that littered the toy shelf along the wall.

"Did Mary Margaret send you over to check on me?" Killian asked, grinning at his father-in-law.

"Of course." David said, grinning.

"I'm fine. I didn't need a babysitter." Killian said with a smirk.

"Oh, I know. But I think Emma was worried. Mary Margaret said she's tried to call a few time but you haven't picked up the phone."

With a sinking feeling, Killian realized his phone was probably still on his bedside table. Of course she would call. He knew she was feeling anxious about leaving, he should have realized. Yet even though he knew how to use one, he still didn't feel the need to carry his phone around. He often left it lying in strange places around the house.

"Can you keep an eye on her, mate?" Killian asked. David obliged and Killian went searching for his phone. It was just where he had left it on his bedside table. He picked it up and turned on the screen. He had four missed calls. Three were from Emma, one was from David. He unlocked the phone and pressed the "Emma" button.

After reassuring Emma that everything really was fine, Killian hung up the phone and hurried downstairs. Sophie was crying again. It was a sound he'd grown to both dread and despise and it only grew louder as he drew closer. He entered the living room and saw David holding Sophie, patting her back and trying to calm her down. Killian walked over to them and the little girl reached for her dad. Killian lifted her and she wrapped her slender arms around his neck. Smiling, he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

David and Neal stayed for dinner. The two fathers found a pizza stuffed in the back of the freezer and decided that was as good as anything else. After dinner Sophie's fatigue and frustration and Neal's incessant questions made it impossible for them to continue a conversation and they knew it was time to go.

"We should at least help you clean up." David shouted over Sophie's renewed shrieks.

Spurred on by the noise, Neal began to whine and pull on David's arm. "Daddy. I wanna go now."

"Go." said Killian, "I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?" David looked regretfully around at the house.

Killian insisted and David and Neal left. After he shut the door, Killian looked around. The living room was destroyed; toys were scattered all over the floor, books were still piled haphazardly the floor in the corner of the room. There was a long forgotten laundry basket in the middle of the walkway, its contents treated in a similar fashion as the books. Dinner dishes, napkins and numerous cups covered the coffee table. The kitchen wasn't in any better condition. The remnants of their pizza were still sitting on the stove. Just the thought of having to clean all that up left him feeling completely drained. Killian picked up his daughter and carried her to her bedroom. He decided to take care of everything else in the morning.

Sophie didn't make it through the first story. Killian sat holding her sleeping form and felt a strange sense of contentment underneath his exhaustion. He rocked her for a while after she fell asleep and transferred her into her crib. Then he turned and walked carefully out of the room, making sure not to step on any more toys, before collapsing into his own bed as well.

Barely an hour later, Killian woke with a jolt. Something was wrong. Sophie was crying again but this was not her usual tired cry. This was different. She was scared. Killian rushed across the hall into Sophie's bedroom, looking around for a villain or specter; whatever had dared to hurt his little girl. There was nothing there. Sophie was standing in her crib and wailing. Once she saw Killian she reached for him as she had earlier that day. Killian rushed to her and scooped her up. Sophie clung to him, shaking. Killian continued to look all around the room for some sign of disturbance, some reason for the sobbing child in his arms.

And then it came to him. "Oh, Sophie. Did you have a nightmare? It's alright, love. It's alright. I've got you."

Killian carried Sophie back into his and Emma's bedroom. He laid back down, one arm still around Sophie. She drew close to her father, her hands playing with his shirt. Her breath hitched and her eyes closed again. Killian watched her sleep for a few minutes, wrapping his arm more tightly around her. Then he closed his eyes as well.

It was late. Emma knew it would be. She set her bag down by the front door and switched on a lamp. The house was an absolute disaster. Toys and books covered every inch of the floor. Emma crossed the hall and turned on the kitchen light. The kitchen was worse. Emma couldn't help but feel frustrated. It didn't look at all like this when she left that morning. Exhausted and now frustrated, Emma sighed and walked quietly upstairs. She peeked in on Sophie's bedroom but her daughter was not in her crib. Emma felt a sudden rising panic. Quickly, she pushed open her own bedroom door.

Killian's hookless arm was wrapped around Sophie. His hook lay on the bedside table where it always sat at night. As they slept, Emma noticed that they both wore the same expression. This and the fact that Sophie had inherited her father's hair made her appear to be a miniature version of Killian. Emma's heart burst with love at the sight of them. She dressed quietly in the dark and climbed into bed on Sophie's other side. The little girl did not stir. Emma brushed the hair off of Sophie's face and kissed her forehead. Then she lay her arm around Sophie, next to Killian's and fell asleep.