He had known, of course, that he was unprepared. It wasn't until the first night that he realized just how very much. In the small tower they now shared, Alice's wails pierced through the walls sending Killian, the former pirate captain and devilishly handsome rapscallion, running to her in a cartoonish frenzy.
Holding her was still a trick. He had been more careful of her sensitive skin than his own as he navigated his disability around her, awkwardly catching himself a time or two with his hook before she was settled into his arms. "Shhh shh shh," he soothed, hoping his voice sounded a sight calmer than he felt. "It's alright, love. You're alright."
He felt the dampness instantly, her cloth diaper soaked through. A throb of panic hit his chest. Oh gods, how was he going to change a diaper? He wasn't altogether sure how he had managed to do it the first time, and he had to trust himself to keep doing it? What if he hurt her?
And then a dam broke, sending torrents of questions spilling into his exhausted mind. How was he going to continue to get what he needed to feed her, to clothe her, to soothe her at all? What did baby girls require, anyway? For over two hundred years, Killian Jones had largely been surrounded by boorish men with the occasional company of fast women. He had no damned clue what it took to keep something so small, so fragile, safe and properly nurtured. He couldn't even think back to his younger days for any hints. Up until his father had abandoned them, Killian was always the one being cared for not doing the caring.
Perhaps if Milah were—
He shook off the memory before it could tell him how much better suited she would have been for this, regardless of how her own experience ended. How much better anyone else but him would have been suited for this. How in the blazes was a hook-handed pirate supposed to provide any sort of life to this darling girl?
He took a few steps back and set her on a small table nearby, just watching her for a few moments as he let the panic bubble inside him. Five seconds. He'd allow himself five seconds to feel the waves coming down on him, as they had all those years ago when Liam navigated them toward the Eye of the Storm. After that, he'd have to trust himself, come what may. Alice needed him.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Killian closed his eyes, sucked in a sharp breath, and let it out slowly. Alice's cries still permeated the small dwelling, but their urgency had seemed to die down. That, he thought, or his own anxiety had loosened its grip on him enough to bring him back to reality.
"Don't worry, love. Papa has you. Let's get you cleaned up and you'll be good as new," he said, voice quiet.
He grabbed a square piece of cloth and set it to the side. Vowing as soon as Alice was asleep he would take a quick trip to the closest town for as many supplies as he could carry and climb up with, he got to work using his good hand unfastening the soiled garments. If he were a praying man, he figured he'd ask someone somewhere for the patience and fortitude to get better at dressing a child sooner rather than later.
At least no one is here to watch this buffoonery, he thought.
It took him longer than he ever would have hoped but soon Alice was clean and dry, her wails easing. Carefully, he used his hooked arm to prop her up before swooping her into his other arm, holding her tightly to him.
"There's my girl. Not so bad, eh? We'll get through this. Together," he muttered.
He rocked her gently, mimicking the rolls of the Jolly Roger on a calm night in the open ocean. "Rest tired eyes a while / Sweet is thy baby's smile / Angels are guarding and they watch o'er thee…"
Killian continued to sing, his voice sweet and breathy as he kept the notes just above a whisper. Alice shrieked a few more times before her eyes began to droop, her crinkled face relaxing. The angry red of her tantrum-flushed face faded to a light pink. In the dim lighting of their den, he marveled that something so wonderful could look like him. But, there she was. He could now see she had the same blue eyes and his pointed ears. Like he was born from some elvish realm, his mother used to tease.
He loathed the idea of leaving the newborn for any stretch of time on her own, but he had no choice. Perhaps he could get a dog like the nanny Baelfire had told him about all those years ago back during his stay with the Darlings. His heart clenched at the thought of the boy he had betrayed after his heartbreak. Never again, he vowed.
"I'll only leave you for a short while when I absolutely must, and I will always come back to you," he said, raising Alice up a little to brush a soft, scruffy kiss to her forehead. "We'll figure things out as they come. I promise you that."
He kept her there, pressed to him until the first light of day sent yellow and orange slivers into their tower. Today he'd have to part with her, if only for a short while, to get things she needed and perhaps consult a local medicine woman on what newborns required. He'd worry about that later. For now, all he just wanted to soak in a few more minutes of this beautiful serenity he shared with his Alice.
He knew he had been unprepared for how deeply and how fast he would grow to love her. Now, as one of her hands curled around his hook during a tranquil dream, he began to realize just how very much.