A/N: I learned several things while writing this, but it can all be summed up into I am never posting another fic without Kayla reading through it first. Thank you a billion times over. I had a prompt in my ask box for cuddly cs with a side of angsty conversation. So I thought it would be fun to delve into Emma's headspace in this certain situation.
She should be sleeping. It is well after midnight, but the past week has her on edge, and therefore a sporadic sleeping pattern. She hums, pulling on Killian's necklace to position herself closer to him, wrapping her legs under and inside his own as his hand traces a coaxing path over her spine. Her free hand snakes around his arm and up his neck to fist the fluff of his hair. When his hook brushes several large strands of her blond locks behind her, he kisses the newly exposed skin of her head. Her thumb outlines the rough scruff of his jawline, emerald eyes gazing up at him. "Emma..." he whispers, concern and longing in his tone as he reads her like an open book.
"I'm scared," she mutters, glancing down to her stomach at the bump that would start to show in a few weeks.
"Darling," he exhales. "You're not alone. I'm going to be by your side through all of this. Forever." His lips touch hers, quick and reassuring, but when she pulls away, smiling solemnly and burying her head into his chest, his heart twinges.
"It's just. . ." They had true love's kiss under their belt for two years now, yet she couldn't shake the nagging voice telling her that history would repeat itself. "I've spent most of my life pushing people away before they could change their minds, decide that they don't want me anymore. What if-" she unclenches his hair, and God, she wishes she had not started this. She bites her bottom lip and tries to focus on his calloused hand skimming her back, the cool of his metal rings contrasting with the heat his fingers stimulate. She hopes - no prays - that he'll let this one slide because she can feel her headspace spiraling down until she's analyzing the definition of a pirate. In the definition she concocts, there's nothing about children, marriage, and family. They're vagabonds, free to come and go as they please, traditionally. But this is Killian, who was more ecstatic than she to learn the news. But still...Pirates didn't plan for families.
(She blames her train of thought on the hormones.)
"Swan, whatever insecurities you're battling, I'm most likely feeling similar. But you're already an amazing mother." He places a wet kiss on her temple, lips lingering there, taking in the scent of her perfume, waiting patiently for her to speak. The mention of her son stirs new fears in her - that when their child comes, she won't be enough for Henry. She remembers the first time she admitted to Killian that sometimes watching her parents raise her brother kills her - the guilt trip accompanying the stray thought heavier than she wanted to deal with. They were trying to do what they thought was best for me. But that doesn't change that I grew up completely alone - not even a parent-like figure to say they wanted me or to hold me when I cried or was scared. It's their first time raising a child, but I'm their child too. "Talk to me, Love." His voice is as broken as she feels.
When she finally does speak, she tastes the salt of her tears, and her words run together in a frantic, jumbled mess. "What if you don't like me like this? And you get bored, or, or tired of me? And Henry, is he going to feel excluded because I didn't raise him, but now I'm raising a child? And how the hell do you raise a baby? What if I screw it up and can't give it what it needs? I can't-"
"Swan, there is no state of you that I don't love. Cherish. I have always and will always want you. All of you." He pulls her closer so that they're touching from torso to toe, lifting her chin with the outside curve of his hook. "As for the lad, he has more family than he knows what to do with. He has grown up loved, and will adore his baby sister. I've seen you with the wee Bae, and with Roland, and Henry. There is no one more suited to be a mother. You're beautiful inside and out, just as our daughter will be. She'll be the most spoiled princess in all the realms. And she will be kind, fair, intelligent...and a symbol of hope to all she encounters."
Emma laughs, this time happy with a hint of surprise. "A girl? And how would you know that, Captain?"
"Aye, Love. Pirate's intuition."
"Mhmm." She kisses along his jawline. "And what else does your pirate's intuition tell you?" Emma whispers in his ear.
Killian smiles, stilling her body so that he can gaze into her eyes. "That if I'm lucky enough, she'll be just like you."
