"I'll ask you again, in case the whiskey's made you deaf as well as drunk. What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Killian seethed, his arms tightening around Emma's back, as if she could shield him from his father's disappointment.

The only thing that kept him from beating a tactical, but hasty, retreat was the feel of her hands along his back, trying to calm him down.

"Well hello, there, lassie," Brennan leered at Emma. "I guess my son's managed to get one thing right at least. Bagged a hot one there, lad. Might be some hope for you yet."

Killian saw red. He was going to obliterate his father if one more-

"Excuse me?" Emma's voice cut through the angry haze. She was furious.

Brennan Jones laughed, a deep sound that was interrupted by a hiccup. "Doesn't concern you, miss. Me and m'boy 're just havin' a conversation."

Her hands disappeared from his back and Killian felt the loss immediately. Emma whipped around so she could get her first glimpse of the man responsible for his birth, and Killian settled his hands on her hips - to keep her away from his father or to keep himself from stepping in front of her to defend her, Killian wasn't sure.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, buddy, but I'm not going to be spoken about that way. I'm not some trophy to be won and Killian knows that. He sure as hell deserves better than you, but if you're going to come to congratulate him on the hard work he's put in the past four years, then you can do it by shutting the hell up and going to find your seat." She paused to take in a breath, and Killian heard the shudder that she tried to hide. "Only family is allowed back here before the graduates all march in, so I'm pretty sure you're trespassing."

"Maybe you don't know who I am, you little-"

"-Oh I know exactly who you are, you son of a-"

"Okay!" Killian cut in. "You" - he pointed to his father - "need to go sober up or sit down. And I'll see you later."

His father gaped at him, but when one of the professors finally started to make his way over, Brennan stalked off.

"And you," he spoke more softly, his hand coming up to brush a tendril of hair away from her cheek, "are brilliant. You're amazing and I love you."

Emma's eyes still flashed with anger, but the softness was returning to her features. "He was talking about me like I was nothing."

"You're not-"

"I'm not nothing. I was never nothing!" Emma hissed, looking over her shoulder to where his father had disappeared, and Killian knew she wasn't really hearing him. Knew she was battling some of the demons he'd tried to vanquish for her.

"No, luv, you're everything. Come back to me, aye?"

She shuddered again, and then curled into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and hugging - hard.

"Mr. Jones?" the professor spoke up when he reached their sides. "Your girlfriend needs to take her seat now, please."

"Aye, sir," he agreed, leaning down to kiss Emma's forehead. "Are you going to be okay, luv?"

"As long as I don't have to sit with him, I'll be fine." She pulled back and mussed up his hair a bit. "Don't trip today, okay?"

Killian laughed. "No promises."

He ignored the professor's glare as he took Emma's hand and led her down to where their friends were waiting. "Here, luv, they'll keep you from punching Brennan today, aye?"

"No promises," she parroted back at him.

Ruby piped up from the back of the group. "Do I need to hide a body in Granny's freezer?"

The well-timed quip broke the tension and Killian kissed Emma's temple before leaving her in the middle of their little group. He trusted that Brennan wouldn't go anywhere near Emma with David watching over the girls like an overprotective papa.

"Don't spend too much time texting me, Jones," Emma called as she was dragged away. "Try to pay attention, okay?"

Killian rolled his eyes.

He lasted all of ten minutes into the first of many speeches when his pocket buzzed.

I'm bored. Are you paying attention?

Killian laughed heartily, earning him a glare from the row in front of him.

Not really luv but you told me I should

He imagined the light laughter that he would conjure from her with that remark, as well as the disapproving glares from their-

You're getting me in trouble with MM!

Sorry MM!

They texted back and forth through the rest of the speeches, only pausing when Killian's row was finally called to line up and march across the stage. He waited impatiently as the people in front of him were called up. And then it was his turn.

"Killian Jones, Theoretical and Quantum Physics."

He tried to concentrate on his feet. He really did. But then he heard David's sharp whistle and Ruby's catcall, and he stumbled. Two steps up at a sprint, a little bit of flailing, and while he managed not to fall, he could still feel the tips of his ears start to burn.

The phone in his pocket buzzed, and Killian resisted the urge to glare across the crowd to where he knew Emma was sitting. Instead, he accepted the staged diploma from Archie, holding it up with a bit of flourish when his friends started hollering again.

One step down. One more degree to go.

He didn't really care about the pieces of paper, just that they afforded him the time and the resources to finish his machine.

Thoughts of Gold filtered through and Killian felt his heart constrict at the way the man was playing him. It didn't matter, though, not when there was nothing he could do about it. So he put the phantom pain out of his mind and concentrated on stepping off the stage without a repeat performance of his trip up.

He waited until he was safely back in his seat to check on what Emma had sent him.

It wasn't from Emma.

Not surprised you embarrassed me again

Killian's jaw clenched as he deleted the message and then blocked the number. He wanted nothing more than to get out of his seat and track his father down, then haul him bodily out of his seat and frog march him to the proverbial door.

Instead, he thumbed over to his gallery app and brought up the pictures of Emma he'd saved.

His phone vibrated a moment later, with a picture message from Emma. He swiped it open and grinned - four faces beamed at him with the message "Congratulations on your trip, graduate!"

That was more like it.

Killian settled in for the rest of the commencement ceremony, flipping his tassel when prompted, but otherwise falling back on the equation that promised him a future with his brother in it rather than the lack of family he had now.

That's not true any more, his brain interjected. You have Emma now, too.

He did.

He'd heard what she said to his father, but knew that calling attention to it would frighten her. Knowing that she saw them as family almost made it worth his father's inopportune appearance.

Almost.

And then he was unzipping his gown, concentrating on not snagging his tie in the zipper, when Emma called out. He had half a second to look up before she was in his arms, giggling in his ear and pulling the cap off his head. She set it on her own, letting the mortarboard sit at an angle.

Killian thought she looked kissably cute, but David was smacking him on the back before he could indulge the thought.

"Congratulations, Jones. Don't run off until we finish my build though, okay?" David joked.

Killian smirked, shaking his head and resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He really should tell David his plans for the machine, but not yet.

Not yet.

"He hasn't dragged you into his asinine belief that he can bring my oldest son back from the dead, has he?" Brennan's voice wafted over Killian and his heart plummeted into his stomach. So much for hoping the man would slink off to the closest tavern without trying to wreck his day.

"What?" David asked, looking confused as his eyes darted back and forth between the Joneses.

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose and tightened his grip on Emma before she could haul off and slug his father. He heard her squawk of protest, but simply pulled her closer to his side.

"This is not the time, Brennan," he hissed. "You're drunk."

Brennan laughed heartily. "Had to be. Not every day your only family forgets to invite you to their graduation."

"You've made it perfectly clear that your only family died six years ago in Ireland. How did you even get here?" he asked, knowing his father wouldn't have wasted the money on a plane ticket.

"I took the opportunity to ensure your father had adequate transportation and lodgings, Mr. Jones."

Killian thought he'd been able to smell Gold's involvement in this. The slimy reptile was grinning as if he knew exactly what this meant to Killian.

How to wreck his day.

Killian smiled coldly, the pull of muscles and skin feeling forced. "Thank you, sir," he bit out, not wanting to get into another fight with his smug benefactor.

They'd had more than one discussion about respect that had ended with Killian slinking away to lick his wounds in private.

Emma tucked her head under his chin, her fingers tangling in the fabric against his back.

"Glad to help, son," Gold smiled back just as calculatingly as Killian had ever seen. The crocodile knew exactly what he'd done.

"Killian?" David was still looking for an explanation.

He couldn't look at his friend. He couldn't explain, not in front of Gold and his father and the girls. Not with Archie making his way over.

Not now.

This wasn't the right-

Emma must have glared at David, because his friend just stuck out his hand to shake Killian's instead of forcing him to speak.

"We'll talk later, right?" David asked.

Killian just nodded. "We'll see you at Granny's in a bit, aye?" he managed.

Ruby smiled gently at him and herded the rest of their group away with a pointed look back at Emma.

He knew they were going to have a conversation later.

"Time for you to go home, don't you think, Brennan?" Emma snarled at his father.

His father laughed. "I'll go home when I'm good and ready, lass."

"What do you want?" Killian asked, defeated. He just wanted to get his father out of there and go curl up around Emma for the rest of the afternoon.

"To know what your plans are now that you're finished with this nonsense. I can't hold that union job for you forever, you know."

Killian looked at him, baffled. "You really think I'm ever going to come crawling back to you? I'd rather end up on the streets here."

Brennan looked a bit lost at that.

Killian just shook his head. "I'm going to succeed here, and I'm going to go on like you're the one I lost instead of Liam. And I'm going to do it with Emma at my side. So you may as well just go home, father. I'm done with you."

Emma tugged him away, and Killian turned his back on Brennan. He had better things to-

"Don't you want to meet your brother Liam?"

Killian's head snapped around. "What?" he asked, hurt tearing at him. Liam was gone. He was only coming back when Killian went back to save him.

Brennan held up a cell phone, the picture on it of he and another woman holding up a toddler. "He's only just turned three. We called him Liam."

Killian started to shake. His vision was filled with red and if Emma hadn't kept a grip on him, he likely would have done something unforgivable.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but they were curled up in the papasan chair in their apartment, Emma sitting in his lap and running her hands through his hair.

"- gone, Killian. He's gone and he's not going to hurt you again."

Hurt? When did his father… how did she… Killian focused inwards for a moment, shutting out Emma's soothing tone and trying to figure out if his father had managed to land a blow.

Nothing hurt but the way his heart clenched when he remembered the smiling little boy in the picture, and Killian finally understood what Emma meant.

"I'm here, Swan," he whispered. "I'm okay, now."

She smiled, the back of her hand brushing gently at his cheek. "No, you're not. But we'll get there."

He shuddered.

"He's gone?" he asked hesitantly, not sure he could deal with his father again.

Emma nodded. "I might have threatened his manhood if he showed up around you again," she muttered sheepishly.

He smiled, and was relieved to feel how genuine it seemed. "Of course you did. I love you."

She snuggled under his chin, dragging his arms around her so she could cuddle against his chest. "I love you, too."

Killian was content to sit there for the rest of their lives, basking in the sheer simplicity of being together.

"If you want" - she interrupted his daydreams of introducing her to Liam someday - "everyone's still going to meet up at Granny's for a late dinner instead. I told them I wasn't sure we'd make it, though."

Dinner? Late? How long had he been out of it? "Wh… What time is it?"

"Almost seven." He could hear the lingering worry in her words.

Graduation was supposed to be over by two.

"Bloody buggering… I've been worrying you that long?" his heart was clenching tightly again.

Emma kissed the skin that his half-open shirt exposed. "You needed to chill, I didn't mind."

"Emma…" he trailed off. God, he thought, I don't deserve her.

She began to play idly with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Whatever you need tonight, Killian. It's yours. If you need to be alone, or with our friends… if you need to work or just go to bed. I didn't understand before. Not about this. Not about how he… how you… I didn't understand why you couldn't work with Gold when he's trying to put his family back together. But I get it now" - she shook her head - "I don't want you giving him back a family if you think he's anything like your father."

"I think he's worse," he whispered hoarsely.

She nodded. "I agree. And I'm sorry. For doubting you." Emma hugged him tightly, burying her nose in his neck.

There were hot tears soaking into his skin, and he hugged her back as his own began to fall.

They did eventually make it to his celebratory dinner at Granny's, the woman herself coming out from behind the counter to deliver a cake that she'd made from scratch. Emma's pleased smile let him know that she'd played a part in the decorations and the rich chocolate dessert that filled his belly.

Not once did his father come up in conversation, and Killian was glad of it.

But he knew he'd have to talk to David eventually.

Just… maybe not tonight.

He should have known it was too good to last.

"You need your hussy to come protect you now, boy? Or are you man enough to speak to your father?"

Brennan had come out of nowhere when Killian had ducked away from Emma to use the restroom.

He whipped around, slightly chagrined to realize that his first instinct was to look for Emma.

But it wasn't what Brennan thought - it wasn't about hiding behind her, or letting her fight his battles.

It was how they were stronger together.

Emma was out of sight, he could just hear her laughter mingled in with the evening crowd in the diner. The sound of her happiness made him smile - and that made his father sneer.

"Putting all your nuts in one basket with that one, aren't you? She's certainly got you by the balls."

Killian's jaw clenched painfully as he surged forward and grabbed his father by the shirt. Ignoring Brennan's sputtering, and the grasping fingers trying to dislodge his grip, Killian managed to back his father further down the hall until he was out of earshot.

"I'll thank you not to speak about her that way again. I won't tell you twice," he hissed at his father, his free hand balling tightly at his side.

"Oh ho!" his father laughed. "Looks like ickle Killy finally grew a set. Tell me, boy, what are you gonna do now?"

Killian shoved him back against the wall - hard. "Get out of here. Go back home and try not to wreck my little brother's life."

"You know, we named him Liam because you cost me the only son that was worth anything to me," Brennan sneered, holding the back of his head where it had connected with the wall.

"You named him Liam because you were too drunk to come up with something original, I'd wager," he hissed back, one ear still on the main dining room. He ignored the sharp stab of pain that tore outwards from his chest - in the place where the lost little boy who only wanted his family back together huddled.

"You no good, rotten son of a bitch," Brennan strode forward and grabbed Killian by the shirt. "I'm still your father. You'll treat me with respect."

Killian shoved him backwards again, watching with satisfaction when the man stumbled. "I don't care if you're the bloody head of the Church. You've never earned my respect and it costs a lot more than you're worth to get it. Now leave."

But Brennan just started to laugh. "At least I'm not the one who got your sainted brother killed. You want to talk about worthless, boy, just think about how it should be you in the ground and not him."

"Killian?" Emma's voice floated down the hallway, and Brennan paled considerably.

Killian smirked, though all he wanted to do was deflate. "You'd better go running home with your tail between your legs before that woman finds you and emasculates you."

"This isn't over, boy." Brennan pointed threateningly at him before slinking down the hall.

Killian waited until he was out of sight before he slumped against the wall.

"Killian? Are you down here?" Emma called again.

He shuddered. "Down here, luv," Killian answered back - a tremor in his voice he couldn't quite hide.

Her hurried footsteps echoed in the small space. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly before she'd even gotten around the corner.

He couldn't muster up the energy to answer.

"Hey," she whispered softly when she was finally standing in front of him "What happened?"

Killian just grabbed her and hugged her tightly to his chest.

This. This was real. This was good. This was what he was worth.

"Killian?"

He barely managed to breathe out, "My father was here," unable to process it himself.

"You want to go home?" she asked into his chest, her arms wrapping around his back and squeezing just as tightly.

"No," he croaked. "No, I want to stay. I just need a minute."

She nodded. "Whatever you need."

Killian clenched his eyes shut and buried his face in her hair. The familiar scent enveloped his senses and slowed his frantic pulse.

This.

This was what was important.

Emma and him.

Together.

Killian heard someone murmuring, thought he made out his name, but definitely heard, "We'll still be here."

He had friends, too.

Friends who he owed an explanation to.

When Killian finally pulled back from Emma, she was looking up at him worriedly. "Are you all right?"

He huffed out a laugh. "I will be. But I think we need to tell them."

"About Liam?"

Killian nodded, a bit reluctantly. "They deserve to know what they're getting into. What we're trying to accomplish."

"And if David isn't willing to help?" she asked, but he could hear from her tone of voice that she didn't believe their friend would back out any more than he did.

He shook his head, finally pushing away from the wall to stand on his own two feet - figuratively and literally. "Then I'm sure our resident crocodile will find a suitable replacement. Whether I like it or not."

Emma tangled their fingers together, leading him back to their friends and the chocolate cake that was mostly demolished.

Killian thought another piece wouldn't go amiss after the last few minutes.

"Well, then we'll just have to convince him to help, won't we?" Emma smiled. "But maybe we can wait until we're back at our apartment for that conversation?"

Killian agreed, a little flutter in his stomach when Emma called it their place.

Granny boxed up the rest of the cake for him, and after a whispered discussion with Emma, ushered them out the door.

"Congratulations, Jones. You've earned every step of the way," the old woman whispered in his ear as she hugged him briefly. "Now, take care of our girl, won't you?"

Like she even had to ask.

At home, Emma mixed drinks and made sure everyone was comfortable in their mismatched, thrift shop furniture. They split up the rest of the cake and Killian worked on gathering his nerve.

"Jones?" David finally broke the comfortable atmosphere. "What's going on?"

Killian sighed. Now or never.

Though never sounded like the better option, still.

Until Emma sat down next to him and squeezed his hand. He nodded at David and took a deep breath.

"You all heard my father this morning," he began hesitantly, looking around for nods of confirmation. "Drunk and crazy as he sounded, he was… more or less right."

A couple of wide eyes, but no one seemed to be running for the hills just yet.

"I had an older brother. Liam. He was… everything to me. He basically raised me since my father was… is… well, you saw him. That's not a new development." Killian looked away from the sympathetic looks, staring out the window until he could continue.

Emma's fingers were tangled in his own and her thumb was making soothing circles over the back of his hand.

"When I was thirteen, Liam took me to Ireland for a lecture on quantum physics. I don't even remember why it was so important, now. But we were on our way to the lecture when he was…" he broke off.

"Killed," Emma whispered for him. "Shot."

Killian shrugged and pulled off his glasses, cleaning them furiously with the hem of his shirt to expend some of the nervous energy. "I can fix it. I know I can fix it if I can just make this work. I can save him."

"So… you're not Dr. Frankenstein?" Ruby cut in.

He shook his head.

"I think that's your boyfriend, Ruby," Emma snarked back.

Ruby agreed with her.

"So, we're still building the machine?" David asked.

Killian nodded.

"And I still get to put my name on it when they award you the Nobel Prize?"

Killian's eyes shot over to his friend.

"What?" David asked. "You think I didn't know you were going to go back in time and do something?"

Killian shrugged. "I didn't really want to think about what you thought," he admitted.

"Killian," Mary Margaret spoke up. "We're here to help. Whatever you need to get your family back. That's what friends do."

He smiled for the first time since he'd heard his father that morning.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" There was the hurt that Killian had expected from David.

He looked over at Emma, taking solace in her soft smile. "I… A lot of reasons. I was afraid you wouldn't help… at first. And then I didn't know how to tell you. I can barely admit to myself, most days, that my brother is de… isn't here. Telling someone else is..." he trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

"Oh, Killian," Mary Margaret fretted.

He breathed out a heavy sigh, not quite relieved at telling them, but certainly lighter. The mood lifted after that, Ruby eventually passing out on the couch and David and Mary Margaret wandering to their room.

Emma covered Ruby with a few blankets as he gathered up the dishes they'd left behind. It was so simple and domestic.

He could get used to this.

He could certainly get used to them sharing a bed every night, he thought as they turned down the covers. The tips of his ears flamed red at the thought, but he wouldn't trade his embarrassment for the feel of her, soft and pliant, in his arms as she dropped off to sleep.

His own sleep, surprisingly, snuck up on him more quickly than he'd imagined it would.

Liam's funeral was small. Only a few friends of both the boys and some of the men Brennan worked with.

To Killian, it was a smack in the face, seeing how few people there were to remember his brother. It wasn't like there was any other family to support them, no one for Killian to turn to now that Liam was… was…

He shook his head violently, earning a sharp nudge from his father for the movement.

Brennan smelled, unsurprisingly, like a tavern.

The casket that held his brother's body seemed too small. Liam had always been larger than life, and to know that he was contained in such a tiny space just seemed off. Killian's numbers swirled around him, calculating his brother's likely height and weight with regards to the dimensions of the box.

He'd only have oxygen in there for a few more…

Liam didn't need any damn oxygen. Not now. Not ever.

Not until Killian could make his equation float in the right order so that he could go back and erase these last few days from existence.

But to do that, he needed to convince the man swaying at his side to let him go.

Preferably before he wasted the next five years of his life stuck in some kind of limbo where his father had all the power.

Stand up to him, little brother, Liam's voice echoed in his head. You can do it. Come save me.

But Killian didn't know how.

The start of term for both Emma and Killian was hectic at best. He'd picked up some teaching requirements as part of his graduate fellowship. Introduction to Physics 101 had seemed like a great class when he'd taken it, all fresh-faced and ready to start his college career - but teaching it at 8AM three times a week to twenty-something freshmen who had better ideas for how to spend their time was less than satisfactory.

At least he came home to Emma every night.

Speaking of, Killian thought as he trudged through the door to their apartment that evening, the woman in question was currently sprawled out across the futon, books and papers spread over the entire mattress and a highlighter perched over one of the pages in whichever book she was studying from.

She was fast asleep.

Killian sat down carefully by her hip, sliding the marker from her grasp and capping it. He could still remember those diabolical few weeks after he'd let her sleep during finals week and they'd argued, a tiny knot of pain solidifying in his chest at the memory.

He had no desire to repeat that ever again.

"Swan?" he whispered, his hand lightly shaking her shoulder.

She grumbled at him, but didn't wake.

He tried again. "My luv? Come on, let's away to bed."

Emma cracked one eye open and tilted her head until she could see him. "Bed?"

Killian huffed out a laugh. "Aye, it's late, and we have classes in all too few hours."

"When'd you get home?"

He tugged at her shoulder until she sat up. "Just a few minutes ago. Our bed is more comfortable than this bloody contraption, come on."

Emma mumbled something, already half-asleep again, and burrowed into his embrace. "Sleepy."

"I know, luv," he laughed. "That's why I'm trying to get you to bed."

"M'kay," she agreed.

And didn't move.

"Emma," he groaned.

She sighed heavily in his ear, but then suddenly pushed herself out of his embrace and stood, a little wobbly, and tugged at his hand. "We've come a long way since I shoved you up the ladder to my bed, Jones," she mumbled as she led him down the hall.

"And I wouldn't trade a moment of it," he replied, a little grin tugging at his features.

And so the semester flew by, the time machine in Gold's lab slowly taking shape and beginning to function. With each new part carefully crafted and molded into the chassis, Killian's trepidation grew. How was he supposed to countenance taking Gold back in time to potentially obliterate the lives of his family?

What would Liam say about that?

To avoid thinking about it, Killian buried himself in classwork, in requisitioning more palladium and braeon and cesium for David's build, in loving Emma. Her birthday, Thanksgiving with their friends at David's family home, Christmas and New Years' spent in Boston, their hard-earned money giving them a week's vacation from everything but each other.

He was almost able to forget what lie ahead before he could save Liam.

The day Killian found David standing outside the lab, bouncing from foot to foot like a kid on Christmas, it all came jumbling back in his head, throwing him for a loop.

"David?" he asked, hesitantly.

His friend was positively beaming. "It's about time, Jones! Come on!"

Killian didn't have a moment to process before David grabbed his hand and dragged him into the lab.

The machine was draped in a tarp, Mary Margaret and Emma holding ropes and standing on each side. When they saw him, they yanked on the ties and he watched, transfixed, as the blue material floated down.

It was finished.

Gleaming metal and polished chrome, the machine looked almost like he imagined a steampunk representation of Saturn would. The moving parts and pieces that would fuel the equation were carefully concealed in a ring around the main chassis, the hatch standing open and inviting.

Killian hadn't been so terrified since the day the EMTs had torn him away from Liam's side.

"There's just one last bolt that needs to be secured," David was saying. "We thought that, with all this means to you, you should be the one to finish it."

Killian just stared.

"It's… done?" he managed to croak.

Emma stepped forward and wrapped his slack fingers around the welder. "Come on, Jones, let's finish this beast."

The breath he'd been holding flew out of his lungs at an alarming speed, leaving him a little shaky. He followed her lead, pulling the shield she'd given him down over his glasses and face and finally, finally, welded the last piece of hardware to the machine.

It was done.

Carefully, reverently, Killian stepped inside the machine and sat at the controls. This was it. The moment he'd spent his entire life waiting for.

A shiny placard caught his eye, and his stomach plummeted to his knees.

PROPERTY OF ROBERT GOLD

Killian wanted to retch. Or take a hammer to the entire thing.

Then Emma caught sight of the tag and a moment - and a phillips' head screwdriver - later, and the painful reminder of what this was costing him was gone.

"He's across town at a board meeting," she whispered in his ear. He didn't have to ask who Emma meant. "Do you think you can get this thing up and running before he comes in for the daily report?"

Killian's eyes connected with hers and his hope soared. Could he really?

Without a second glance, Killian booted up the computer and started inputting the data. He entered time coordinates that he had slaved over for weeks, latitude and longitude to spit him out somewhere close enough to Liam but far enough from people, the equation that would capture and manipulate time.

"You aren't going anywhere without me, are you, dearie?" Gold's oily voice echoed through the chamber.