AN: Again, I don't what this is or which corner of my crazy mind it comes from, I just know that I finished watching season five yesterday and started writing. I don't even know if I like the pairing, I mean I love both these characters, but together, it might just be weird. Still, it happened and it is what it is, so I'm just gonna post it for something different.

After that day, he doesn't remember much. The next week is a blur of waking up in various places around Storybrooke, wondering where the best place to get some more rum is. Eventually though, he runs out of options and sobers up long enough to wonder how the other survivors are faring.

xxx

He stumbles into the apartment which always felt too small, but now seems much too large.

"You smell like a brewery," David informs him. Not that he can say much, Killian suspects he's still wearing the same clothes as the last time he saw the man.

"I think you mean distillery, and I can assure you it's not much better in here, mate."

Satisfied that David and Neal are still at least breathing, he heads up to the loft and stays there. It's not like he has anywhere else to go.

xxx

A few nights later, when he's lying in bed, decidedly not sleeping, it occurs to him that Neal cries a lot. He doesn't remember the boy being this fussy before. But then, losing one's mother, sister and nephew all in one fell swoop might do that to a child.

He hauls himself up and goes down to see what the matter is.

He finds David cradling the child, bleary-eyed and exhausted, but too stubborn to give up trying.

"He won't settle," David says, bouncing the child ineffectively. It's no wonder when the boys being handled like a row boat in a fifteen-foot swell.

"That's because you're too tense, he can sense it. Give him here."

David hesitates, pulling the wailing boy tighter into his chest. Killian can understand the reluctance to let go, they've lost too much already, but he also knows this child needs a break just as much as his father does.

"Just give him here man. So we can all have some peace."

At his wits end, David finally hands the bawling child over. Just a few gentle rocks and a soothing word or two, see the cries fade to sobs, and eventually to much needed sleep.

When David reaches for the boy again, Killian shoots him a glare that says he isn't to be trifled with.

"You need rest just as much as he does. He won't need you again until morning, go get some sleep."

xxx

He takes to sleeping on the sofa because it's closer to the crib than being up in to loft.

It means he's closer to David too, and more aware of just how little sleep the man is getting. That day still haunts Killian too, but rum helps quiet the pain for a little while at least.

It culminates one night when David wakes, desperately screaming his wife's name. Killian goes to him, for lack of anything else to do, thinking if he can quiet him, maybe he won't wake the baby too.

He holds a flask out.

"Here."

David declines and Killian shoves it into his hand.

"Take it. One bloody swig won't blacken your heart."

David gives him a miserable look.

"It's not mine to blacken."

On that day, before the end, Regina had managed to pull the halved heart from Snow's chest and give it to David. She hadn't seen the sense in both of them dying. It was the rational thing to do, and in Neal's best interests, but for David it was a terrible burden to bear. However, it was done now. All David needed to do was respect the decision Snow had made and appreciate the sacrifice.

"Of course it is. She gave it to you, didn't she?"

Not even David can argue with that.

xxx

Killian's forgotten there's a world outside these four walls, what with all the homemade lasagne and tuna casseroles, when he sees David packing Neal up in a pram.

"Where are you going? There's enough food in the freezer for months."

"To see Snow."

All Killian can do is stare in confusion.

"To the cemetery," David elaborates.

"Right." The thought makes him uncomfortable, not only because so many he'd known were buried at sea like a soul should be rather than stuck in the ground, but because he'd never been to visit these particular graves himself. He assumes there were funerals, but he was too drunk to remember they would be happening, let alone to attend.

"You could come too," David offers. Killian's surprised that he's welcome, and touched too.

"I can help you carry the pram downstairs."

David accepts the help, and Killian wonders if there might be other things he can help with too.

xxx

It's the morning that David fastens his sheriff star to his belt that things turn a corner.

"Going somewhere?" Killian enquires.

"We can't live off charity forever. Would you mind taking care of Neal for the day? Just until I can make other arrangements."

He looks at the lad, gurgling happily from his cot, and supposes if he says yes it really won't be that much different to all the days that have come before.

"Aye. I can do that."

"Thanks," David says with an encouraging pat on the back, before he's out the door, wading back into the thing they call 'real life'.

xxx

Since that day, the worst day, Storybrooke is free of magic. Life happens at a slower pace and its pennies and dimes that make the cogs turn.

He gets a job at the docks, nights and weekends mostly. He'd have liked to work on a boat, any vessel would've done, but he needs to be reachable should anything happen and the boy needs him.

xxx

These days he takes his hook off and stows it in his back pocket before he opens the door. More often than not he's greeted by a toddler launching into his arms, unconcerned about any damage a piece of pointy metal might do.

xxx

Every day the boy looks more like Snow. Her dark hair, her round face, even that irrepressible smile. His eyes are pale blue though, more like David's. It's funny how looking into either pair manages to chase away the gloom.

xxx

He's putting the finishing touches on when he gets the feeling he's being watched.

"Why do you wear that?"

He quirks a brow at David in the mirror.

"It brings out the colour in my eyes. Did you need something?"

"Neal lost his other shoe," David says, holding up a left size four.

"It'll be in the refrigerator."

"Thanks. And by the way, you don't need it."

He uses up all the kohl he has left but never bothers to buy any more.

xxx

The first time Neal calls him dad, he means to correct the lad but David says he shouldn't. So 'Dad' it is and it reminds him of Henry and his two mothers. They'd made that work. Maybe this could work too.

xxx

"Do you ever think about going back to the Enchanted Forest? I mean, this isn't really home, is it? There's no magic here."

"You say the strangest things sometimes..." Is all the answer he gets from David.

xxx

They watch Neal cross the playground for his first day of school. And it hits Killian, like it does on momentous days like these, that the boy's mother is unfairly absent. The Crocodile took too much that day, and revenge was a dish served red hot.

"There are so many milestones she should have been here for. You shouldn't have had to do all this alone."

David turns to him, a soft smile on his face, like Killian has missed something. David reaches over and lays a hand on his shoulder, gazing at him with warm, blue eyes.

"What makes you think I've been alone for any of it?"

xxx

It's different after that. Killian's always been slow to change, years as a slave and so long in Neverland have skewed his perception of time, but now that it's happened he wonders why it took so long for him to realise. They are a family. They're in this together and since that terrible day, they always have been.

xxx

Something else changes too. He notices things. Subtle things, funny things. Most of all he notices David. He notices all the touches. Was David always this tactile? A hand on his arm as reassurance, a hand on his back to guide him, a hand on his shoulder as a show of solidarity. And then Killian starts to wonder; should he be reaching back?

xxx

It's Sunday afternoon and they are strolling along the docks, Neal between them, making a complete mess of his ice cream cone.

The sea sparkles with the sunlight and calls to him. It's a call he's learned to ignore because other voices are louder.

"Neal's at school now," David says. "Just think about the job on the boat. Overnight trips to Boston, it could be perfect for you."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No," David returns with an easy smile. "I just want you to be happy."

Suddenly he can't make his voice work around the lump in his throat, so he leans down and fixes Neal's chocolate-coated face instead.

xxx

He takes the job on the boat and for the first twelve hours it's brilliant. The wind in his face, the roll of the waves, the salty sea spray on skin, and then the sun goes down. He's worked plenty of night shifts before but never like this, never more than five minutes from home. And he knows now, that's what he shares with David and Neal, and that it's where he longs to be.

xxx

It's dinnertime when he walks in. David and Neal are already eating but there's a place waiting for him.

"Dad!" Neal exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. David doesn't chastise him when he abandons his dinner in favour of a hug. Killian wraps the boy up and knows he's made the right decision.

They settle at the table after David's reminded Neal that he still needs to finish his meal, then he turns to Killian, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't missed them both.

"How was it?"

"We'll talk about that later," he replies, wanting to enjoy a relaxed family dinner before he says something he might not be able to take back.

"Alright," David allows, curiosity obviously piqued, but mindful that Neal doesn't need to know everything that adults do just yet.

The rest of the meal is filled with chatter and laughter as Neal fills him in on the last few days of school. And the more he hears, the more certain he becomes that he doesn't want to be anywhere else.

xxx

After that day, he knew he'd never be happy again. What surprises him now, a handful of years and a lot of love later, is that he wants to be. For so long after he lost Emma life had been about giving other people what they needed, enduring it for the sake of a child in need and his broken father, never because he wanted to live it.

It was undoubtedly the boy who had brought him back to life, hearing first words and watching first steps, seeing bright smiles and feeling warm hugs. But it was David who showed him a future, things to dream about, things to hope for. The possibility of love anew.

xxx

"So? How'd it go?"

David's put Neal to bed, giving Killian a chance to clean up after his days at sea.

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"I quit."

"What? Why? You just said it was fine."

"The duties were. The hours not quite so much..."

"The voyage was too short?"

"Far from it..."

He knows he's being vague, but he doesn't know how to get to the point across without sounding ridiculous.

"Too long? It's a long time since you've been to sea, you'll get used to it again. Don't tell me you got seasick?"

"No, I didn't get bloody seasick." Homesick more like...

"Then what?" David says, taking a step forward, reaching like he always does... "Talk to me, Hook..."

The name jars him and Killian takes a step back, looks David in the eye, desperate for an answer to a question he doesn't even know how to ask.

"Is that all I am to you?"

"What?" David frowns, understandably thrown by the abrupt change in the tone and direction of the conversation.

"Hook. The pirate..."

David frowns at him.

"Where is all this coming from? I thought we were in a good place..."

"So did I..."

"So what's the problem?"

Wasn't it obvious?

"I got a job that takes me away from you."

"Me?"

"I mean Neal too. Both of you. This family..." he tries to deflect and then a realisation hits him. Hard. He's being a coward, and that he cannot abide. "But yes, you. I suppose I missed that sunny charm of yours..."

And then David's reaching again, and this time Killian doesn't pull away.

"I missed you too."

"Well it does seem stupid to deliberately put distance between us when we've lost so much already."

David's expression darkens a little, and Killian's sure he's ruined the moment, but then David admits something, a startling truth, something that rocks them both, but can't be denied.

"Sometimes when we're together, when I see you with Neal, or when you smile at me, I don't feel like there's anything missing."

Suddenly Killian's world illuminates, he's never felt quite like this before, he was always second best to Liam and even with Emma, his true love, he was constantly running to catch up.

"Are you saying I'm enough?"

David looks him in the eye and gives him one of those soft, warm smiles.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Killian."

Killian's joy won't be contained and it spills over in the form of a kiss. His mouth lands on David's and he's being kissed back. All at once, it's the most obvious and unbelievable thing that's ever happened to him.

xxx

There's nothing extraordinary about one particular day when they go to tuck Neal into bed and try to decide on a story, until Neal pulls a familiar old tome out from under the bed.

"Where did you get that?" David asks. It's been years since either of them laid eyes on this book.

"The library was giving away all the old books that nobody borrows. This one looked cool..."

David and Killian share a look, a silent conversation. Do they want to dredge up the past? Is Neal old enough to know the truth? How much of his history and theirs do they want to share?

"Can we read it?" the lad asks.

"It's your story," Killian defers to David.

"No," David disagrees. "It's our story."

Neal frowns between them.

"You already know this one?" he asks, a little disappointed after presuming he'd discovered a new and unseen treasure.

"Yes," David tells him, "but it's one of my favourites. Scoot over."

Neal perks up again as David takes the book and settles down beside him.

"There's room for you too," Neal says, patting a space beside him.

Killian sits as David opens to the first page and clears his throat. Neal looks excitedly at the accompanying illustration, a castle, a beautiful princess, a wicked stepmother... Killian's nervous as he waits. What will it be like this time around? He knows there's a lot of heartache to come, but he's pretty sure this one ends happily ever after. David's eyes flick up to meet his, an assurity there, then he looks back down at the page and begins.

"Once upon a time..."

xxx

Neal nods off somewhere around the part where Snow White and Prince Charming defeat the bridge troll, and David closes the book, sitting it aside for tomorrow night.

Now that he knows how the story ends, he thinks it's about time his son heard these stories too.

Downstairs he finds Killian deep in thought. He's brooding. David doesn't fight Killian's insecurities, they're a part of him, but he does what he can to soothe them.

"Killian..."

Killian turns to him, and David's first instinct to wrap him up and tell him there's nothing to worry about. But first, he'll listen.

"How many true loves can a person have?"

Like usual, this is an easy one.

"As many as they're willing to open themselves up to. It's not the big mystery everyone makes it out to be."

"What's the secret then?" Killian asks, openly placing his trust in David.

"Commitment, acceptance, sacrifice. Putting someone else first. It's action, not emotion. It's the ability to truly be unselfish. If you've found true love once, you can find it again."

Killian thinks it over a moment before asking his next question.

"Do you think they'd mind?"

"That we're happy?"

"That we could move on."

"Didn't Emma specifically make you promise to do that once?"

"Aye," Killian says with a fond smile. "That she did."

"Well there you go. Besides, Neal deserves a happy family. You've loved him like he's your own. Snow would never not want that for her child."

"I need him as much as he needs me."

"And when you find what you need you hold on tight. And when you love what you need? Well I don't think life gets much better than that."

Killian looks up at him with unguarded blue eyes.

"Do you need me?"

Another easy one.

"You know I do. Come here."

Then he wraps Killian up and holds on tight. Quietly confident that he'll never be forced to let go again.

"And what about life?" Killian murmurs. "Does it get any better than this?"

"No," David answers. "I don't think it does."