Chapter 19:

(Olivia)

My skin was crawling.

Even though David had checked the cabin when we'd gotten here, I still couldn't sit still. Just knowing that Nick was out there had my flight or fight response kicking in, and it was leaning towards flight. Well, sort of, but not really. For the last two hours, instead of packing our bags, I was playing hostess to a prince. Well, I was scrubbing the counters in case the prince decided to venture into the kitchen.

"Olivia?" David stood in the doorway of the kitchen with his head tilted to the side a little. "I know this is going to sound like an incredibly stupid question, but are you ok?"

I glanced up at him, my eyebrows knitted together. What kind of question was that? I was as ok as I could be considering the circumstances. Wasn't I? I mean I was still here and hadn't run for the hills, yet. So, there was that.

His kind smile told me that he hadn't meant any offense, and by way of explanation, he said, "You're about to scrub a hole in the countertop."

From the look on his face, he thought I was about to break any moment. Truth be told, I was surprised I hadn't yet. But I couldn't, could I? I had to be strong for Brantley and Alice who were upstairs, both still worried about their father and the dangers surrounding us.

We were all in danger because of me.

Sighing, I tossed the sponge into the sink. "Sorry."

There was that smile again as his blue eyes twinkled at me. "You have nothing to apologize for. None of this is your fault."

Deep down inside, I knew he was right.

I also knew that it would never assuage the guilt.

Crossing to the fridge, I pulled out a bottle of wine. "Do you drink it?"

"I do, but I'd prefer some coffee and don't you move. I can make it myself."

I poured a generous glass of wine and leaned a hip against the counter while we waited for the coffee to brew.

My mind wandered to what I'd set out for dinner. Salmon. Not wanting to get too extravagant after an already upside-down day, I decided to do a honey garlic blend with sides of rice and broccoli. And why was I thinking about dinner? Nick was here inside the town everyone said he couldn't get into. Wasn't there something else I could be doing instead of standing here drinking wine like it was just another tough day?

"Emma and Regina will figure this all out," he tried to reassure me.

I just shook my head, "Before I came here, none of you had to worry about whether or not you'd be shot at."

"I'll give you that one," he chuckled. "But I will add this: I have never seen Jones happier than he has been. Before, he wasn't unhappy, no, but it's been nice seeing him smile like he has." He paused to pull the coffee pot out and pour the hot liquid into a mug. "Having you and Brantley here has been nice, too. You saved the fall festival with the face painting, and put together some amazing costumes at the drop of a hat. My wife also really enjoyed your company that night when you all went out. It just seems to me, that you guys just really fit here. Don't you think?"

I knew what he was trying to do—get me to stay. He assumed I was thinking about leaving when I'd gotten quiet. But didn't he understand? Even though I desperately wanted to be miles away from Storybrooke, I simply could not leave. My home was upstairs after just having taken a bullet and being magically healed.

Quietly, I told him, "For once, I'm not thinking about leaving."

Surprise flitted over his face, but then he smiled something very genuine. "Oh?"

"No. I was thinking about what to make for dinner, then questioning why I was worried about dinner at all with everything going on." I took a sip of the wine. "I won't lie and say I didn't think about it. The second I saw the letter beneath the wiper, I did. I'd wanted to scoop my son into the car, race back here, grab our things, and leave. But I can't keep doing that. I can't keep running every time. At some point, I've got to stand and fight. For the people I've come to care about," I nodded my wine glass in his direction, hoping he understood that I meant them all, "for Killian, for my son, and for myself."

"Good," Rogers said from the doorway behind me.

I started and whirled around. Those impossibly blue eyes locked onto mine, blazing with emotion. He crossed to me and pressed his lips briefly, but fiercely, to mine. I recognized it for the promise that it was—a promise that would be fulfilled when everyone left us.

With a quick glance in David's direction, the heat in his cheeks told me that he'd known Rogers had been standing there. My back had been to the door, but he had been facing it. In an effort to block out my gaze, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone as it beeped.

"Um, what were you thinking about making for dinner?"

I told him and then asked, "Why?"

"My wife wants to pick up extras so everyone has their fill. Apparently, they will all be here shortly."

My eyes fell on the half-empty bottle of wine. "Could she pick up some more wine?"

He laughed, along with Rogers, and said, "I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Snow was the first to arrive, towing in groceries with her son, Neal. As soon as she deposited the groceries, she wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug. "How are you holding up?"

"Hanging in there," I promised.

I peeked out of the kitchen doorway towards the living room. Brantley and his father sat around the coffee table with David. Neal joined them and then Brantley ran to one of the book cases to grab a deck of cards from behind one of the knick-knacks.

Satisfied that all was well, I turned back to Snow who smiled and asked, "Are we ready to start dinner?"

It only took 30 minutes to make dinner. Before we'd finished, everyone had arrived. Neal, Brantley, Hope, Alice, and Robin were all seated around the table, while the rest of us took seats where we could find them: the sofa, armchairs, or the floor. While we ate, we talked of ways to secure the cabin.

Everyone seemed to be on board with blood magic, and that it would need to be Brantley's blood that provided the protection. The way it was explained to me was that Brantley had both of his parents' blood, and by extension, Alice would be able to come and go as well since she, too, shared blood with my son through their father. It would keep everyone else out, though.

I'm not going to lie. It was a little scary for me, at first, just hearing the words blood magic. However, all that was actually needed was four drops of Brantley's blood. When everyone headed out, Regina performed the ritual, and the cabin was deemed Nick-proof.

Though Rogers offered to clean the dishes, I told him that I would handle it. After all, he had gotten shot today. He opted to tuck our son in while I made quick work of the dishwasher that we hadn't used since I'd arrived.

When I emerged from the kitchen, a fire was going in the hearth. I smiled, feeling its warmth and enjoying it for a moment before I crossed to the stairs. On the second floor, I stopped in the doorway of the guest room. Rogers was leaned back against the headboard, our son tucked beneath his arm as he read a book. Crossing to them, I leaned over and gently pulled our son away from his father so that his head fell onto the pillow. Rogers glanced down, surprised. He must not have realized our son had fallen asleep.

"I hope I wasn't overstepping by putting him to sleep in the bed." Rogers said as we stepped into the hallway.

"It's fine," I promised, albeit a little wearily.

It had been such a long day, but apparently that didn't dampen Rogers' former unspoken promise. Those oh-so-kissable lips curled into a wickedly sexy smile as he took my hand and led the way into the Captain's Quarters. The second he punched the lock behind us, I turned and pushed him against the door. Standing on the tips of my toes, I locked my wrists behind his neck and pressed my lips hungrily to his. A hum of approval sounded into my mouth as his hands came up to tangle in my hair.

My heart and my mind waged war with one another. The heart always wants who it wants, be damned the consequences. A mind is more logical and tends to overthink every possible situation. Especially my mind. But I knew what I felt and I knew it would never fade because although I'd managed to suppress it for nearly nine years, it had always been lurking in the background.

Pulling back, I looked into the pools of impossible blue. I saw my own feelings reflecting back at me and it gave me the courage I needed. Voice soft as a whisper but unwavering with truth, I told him, "I love you, Killian."

"I'll never love anyone the way I love you, Liv," he responded and then took my mouth in a new promise. A promise filled with hope and love and a future without fear. It was a promise I had always wanted and one I couldn't wait to see fulfilled.