7 months later
Killian stares at the screen, his attention elsewhere. The idea for a story is forming in the back of his mind, distracting him. Besides, he's seen the film before, even though for some reason he cannot recall any of the actual scenes.
Emma is fast asleep, her head resting in his lap. She had a long day at work and fell asleep already a few minutes into the film. He absent-mindedly draws his hand through her hair. For a while now, he's been having this annoying feeling that he's forgetting something important. Like a doctor's appointment. Or an anniversary. Or the idea for his next bestseller. Whatever it is, he just cannot put his finger on it.
A scene on the screen captures his attention. Morpheus is giving a speech about the nature of the matrix and Killian feels a cold shiver run down his spine. He scoots forward on the couch, taking in every word. A strange panic rises up in him. He doesn't know why, but something in the dialogue resonates with him. He is, suddenly and terribly, afraid that his life is a lie, that his world is an illusion.
He shakes his head, trying to clear it from this nonsense. Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like? Sudden, inexplicable existential dread? Thinking that all of his dreams and achievements are meaningless?
Emma stirs and opens her eyes, looking up at him sleepily. He moves his hand to cup her face and slowly strokes his thumb over her cheek. Their eyes lock and it helps to push down the rising panic. Emma is real, solid, in his arms and he just got riled up over a stupid scene in a film, that's all.
Emma sits up, her brow furrowing. She clearly senses something off about his mood. What's wrong? her eyes are inquiring without her forming any of the actual words.
Killian chuckles, but it sounds forced to his own ears.
"Everything's fine, love. Just let myself get spooked by the film."
Emma turns her attention to the screen, clearly confused by his answer. She turns back to him with a raised eyebrow. It's an adorable look and he dives in for a short kiss. When they break apart again, Emma playfully bumps her nose against his.
"Shall we go to bed?", she asks in a seductive voice, which is ruined by a yawn at the end. Killian chuckles again, this time with true mirth.
"If the lady insists."
Killian strolls barefoot into the kitchen the next morning. Henry is already sitting at the table, brooding. Killian is taken aback by how tall the lad has grown. He remembers when he was nothing but a toddler and he took him to the park for hours. It was the happiest time of his life. How did he go from that to a brooding teenager so quickly? It feels like years of his life just rushed by.
When he sits down at the table, Henry hands him a folded piece of paper and looks at him expectantly. Killian unfolds it and immediately recognises his distinct handwriting. He frowns. He has no recollection of writing this. As he reads on, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and a cold shiver runs down his spine. The feeling is eerily similar to what he experienced the night before.
Who the hell is Milah? Or Liam? The names are meaningless to him. The inside of his right arm starts itching suddenly and he absent-mindedly rubs at it with his prosthetic. Was he high when he wrote that? Or drunk? Or is his memory simply failing him?
"Where did you find this?"
Henry eyes him suspiciously. "In one of the pockets of your old leather coat. I lost my wallet yesterday and I was turning the whole place over looking for it. When I picked up the coat, the note fell out." He makes a significant pause. "Are you sure you didn't mean for me to find it?"
Killian is surprised by his assumption. "What? Why would I do that?"
Henry grins at him. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's the start of some treasure hunt meant to convince me that 'magic is real'."
"That was years ago. I'm sure you've grown out of that. Besides, I've never seen this before in my life."
"Sure you haven't", Henry states sarcastically and quickly snatches the note out of his fingers. "So I shall get to the bottom of this. And if, in doing so, I learn a valuable life lesson about believing in things and stuff, so be it. I shall call it 'Operation Unicorn'." Now his voice is equal parts sarcasm and excitement. He clearly thinks this is some elaborate ruse that his father set up for him.
He runs out of the room and up the stairs, probably in search of further clues, while Killian mulls over the contents of the note. How can he have written that and not remember it? Maybe he was sleep-writing? Is there such a thing? Could it be a forgery? Is Henry trying to set him up with some prank?
He sighs. His over-active imagination is running away with him again. There is probably some perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.
Emma stares at the pile of paperwork in front of her and sighs. Lately, she's been assaulted time and again by a strange feeling that she's forgotten something important. Like leaving the stove on. But that's not it. She walked back into the house this morning before driving off, ignoring Killian's raised eyebrow, and double-checked. Probably it's a trivial thing like going to the dentist. When was the last time she did that anyway?
She's distracted from her musings by David's arrival at the station. He's late and she can tell immediately that something is up. He's practically beaming. She gets up and before she even has a chance to open her mouth to ask, he blurts out, "We're pregnant!" His voice is filled with wonder and Emma is truly happy for them. She gives David a hug, which is cut short because he's hopping from one foot to the other with glee, unable to contain his excitement.
"Congratulations! That's wonderful news. I'm so happy for both of you."
"Thank you", David says, looking to be about a hair's breadth away from jumping up and down with joy.
"Do you mind if I leave you alone for a bit here? I want to tell Killian."
Emma grins. Obviously. "Not at all. I'm sure he will be thrilled."
David smiles at her and then literally runs out of the station. Emma chuckles and is tempted for a moment to send her husband a warning, but she decides not to spoil David's big moment. Maybe Killian will be able to calm him down.
Killian stares at the blank document on his laptop, his frustration building. He had an idea for a short story yesterday, but now his mind is filled only with the mysterious note. He sighs. Maybe he can turn that into a story? Something about a man with amnesia leaving notes for himself? It sounds like something that must have been done before. He should do some research. A ring at the door distracts him.
He opens it and there's David, grinning at him like he just won the lottery. Killian starts to smile, already having some idea why the other man came to visit him.
"I'm going to be a father!" David blurts out and beams at him with a million watt smile. Killian embraces him in a tight hug, clapping David's shoulder as they pull apart again.
"Congratulations, mate. I hope you're not fond of sleep, because you'll never experience it again", Killian tells him mockingly.
"Looking forward to it", David says honestly and Killian shakes his head in disbelief. He tries to recall how he first found out about becoming a father and for a terrible second he cannot remember. It should be burned into his memory forever, one of the defining moments of his life, but when he tries to think about it he comes up empty. The now familiar fear grips him again and he knows suddenly that something is horribly wrong.
He remembers the note and the dread starting to engulf him intensifies. A sudden pain flares up in his right arm. He clumsily pushes down the sleeve with his prosthetic and gasps as he witnesses coloured lines appearing on his skin where a second before there was nothing. The words from the note flash through his mind. Milah. Liam. Jolly Roger. He looks up in panic and meets David's worried gaze. He feels like he is having some sort of stroke. Pain blossoms behind his right temple and then a flash of white light engulfs his vision.
