A Pirate's Christmas Carol (pt. 2 of 2)

CS genre: CS Christmas future fic

Killian woke with a start, heart pounding, utterly disoriented, realizing he wasn't in his bed with Swan curled up at his side. After a moment, it all came back to him…his fears and insecurities about upcoming fatherhood, coming to sit before the tree and the fire so his restlessness wouldn't wake his sleeping wife, Liam, the journey to the past.

Had it really happened?

Surely not. Likely his sleep addled brain had conjured an elaborate dream, seeking relief from the anxiety.

The thought was sad, somehow. How he would have loved to spend another hour in Liam's presence, even if his brother was naught but a ghost.

Deciding it would be best to return to bed, Killian got to his feet. It was then that he noticed the other presence in the room.

Henry stood still and silent in the corner near the Christmas tree. He stared, unblinking, merely taking Killian in. It was unnerving as hell.

"Henry, lad," Killian said slowly. "I didn't see you there. Did you…did you need something?"

The lad shook his head slowly, and then finally spoke. "It wasn't a dream, Killian. You know that, don't you? It truly happened."

Killian took an involuntary step backward. There was something eerie about this conversation.

"Uncle Liam, I mean," Henry continued. "He came to help you overcome your fears, and so have I."

"But…I was under the belief it would be ghosts visiting me lad."

Henry nodded. "Indeed. Henry lies sleeping peacefully in his bed. I'm but a shade of your stepson. Think of me as the Ghost of Christmas Present."

That…made about as much sense as anything else had on this confusing night. Perhaps Swan had been speaking literally and not merely in a figure of speech when she called Christmas Eve night a magical time.

"And have you come to show me vignettes from my present?"

Henry nodded and then smiled brightly. "Absolutely."

"Well then, lad, lead on."

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian first found himself standing near the window in his own bedchamber. Bright rays of sun burst through the gossamer thin curtains and came to fall on the bed. Emma slept on her side, a peaceful smile on her face. Killian lay behind her, holding her to him.

As the sun continued to pour in, the Killian in the bed woke slowly and stretched. Sitting up, he ran his hand through his hair, and then smiled down at his still sleeping wife. A glint of mischief came into his eyes, and he leaned down, brushed her hair back from her face and began to kiss the spot on her neck he knew she particularly liked.

Standing by the window, Killian felt his face flame. "Henry, lad. Are you sure you wish to be privy to this? It appears we've wandered into a scene not fit for a son's eyes."

"Relax, Killian," Henry said with a good-natured roll of his eyes. "You really think I would have brought you to a moment that would leave me wanting to bleach my eyes? Yeah, I don't think so. Just watch."

Killian shot him one last skeptical look, and then turned his attention back to the bed.

Emma squirmed, and then turned onto her back, eyes opening, smile firmly draped over her face. Without a word, she reached up behind his head and brought his lips down for a long, slow kiss. When it came to an end, Killian caressed her face, joy radiating from him like the rays of the sun.

"That was quite the way to wake up," she said. "Looks like someone's in a good mood."

"Aye," Killian said. "And while I'd greatly love to continue on to activities that would ensure both of us were in an even better mood, I fear your lad will be knocking soon, eager to open the gifts we left for him last night."

"You're probably right," Emma said, awkwardly moving to a sitting position, her protruding belly making the movement far more difficult than it would have been otherwise.

Killian reached over and rubbed Emma's belly, then leaned down so he could better greet his little one.

"Good morning my lad," he said. "I love you, and I can't wait for the moment I may greet you properly."

Hand still placed on Emma's stomach, Killian jumped slightly, feeling a little foot kick him.

Emma chuckled. "Looks like someone's excited to hear his daddy's voice."

"Truly?" Killian asked, face a bit wistful. "You think he recognizes me."

She laughed again. "Killian he kicks and squirms and does somersaults every time you're around. I think your son loves you already."

Killian leaned down to kiss Emma's belly, right over the spot the babe had kicked. "I hope you're right. I'd never known it was possible to love someone this much—and he hasn't even greeted the outside world."

Emma pulled him up until she could kiss him once more. "You're going to be an amazing father, Killian. You know that?"

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

The scene blurred, and Killian rubbed at his eyes. When he opened them again, he and Henry stood near the Christmas tree in their home.

"The first Christmas with the whole family at the new house," Henry explained as Killian looked around at the Charmings, Regina and Robin (who had made a miraculous return from the dead), Roland, little Robyn and even Zelena. (Emma had expressed reservations at inviting the greener of the two Mills sisters, but Snow had insisted, stating that if they wanted Zelena to continue on her hero path, they had to give her a chance to prove herself.)

Killian saw Emma making some last minute preparations in the kitchen, assisted by her mother, and Henry sat near the fire playing with his young step-brother and entertaining his even younger uncle…but Killian didn't see himself in the happy family tableaux.

"Where am I, lad?" Killian asked, feeling a sense of loss at the idea that he was missing Christmas afternoon with his family.

"Don't worry, Killian," Henry said. "You just went to the Jolly to check on her after last night's snowstorm. Oh look! There you are now."

Accordingly, just as the lad indicated, the front door opened, and Killian came barreling in, quickly closing the door to the winter cold. He removed his coat and then turned to kiss Emma.

"Hey Killian," vision Henry said, getting up and going to his step-dad.

"Merry Christmas again, lad."

"Is the Jolly weathering the winter well?"

"She's right as rain, my boy," Killian said. "Nothing so prosaic as a snowstorm can disturb her. She's truly a marvel."

"Cool!" Henry said. He continued to smile for a moment, and then suddenly began shuffling from foot to foot.

"Is something troubling you, mate?" Killian asked, brow furrowed.

Henry averted his eyes. "No. Nothing's wrong," he said. "I just…I was hoping I could talk to you. You know somewhere where everyone isn't watching."

"Of course. You are aware you can always talk to me about anything on your mind, are you not?"

"Yeah, I know," Henry said.

The two stepped through the door to what used to be the creepy Dark One cellar—now turned into a comfortable man-cave, as Emma called it. The visitor Killian and his guide Henry followed their other selves; somehow Killian knew this conversation was precisely what guide Henry wished him to see.

"Now, what's this about, lad?" Killian asked as soon as they were assured their privacy.

"It's just…" Henry began awkwardly. He turned away, reached into a satchel Killian hadn't realized he'd been wearing. After a moment of shuffling, he pulled out several pages.

"A new story for your storybook, lad?"

"Yeah," Henry said. "Well…more for your storybook. Yours and moms. I'm gonna give you guys the start of the book for Christmas, but…I don't know…I wanted to give you this story separately."

Killian took the pages and looked over them. "Our story," he breathed softly. "You wrote of the difficult times we've just overcome—from your mother becoming a Dark One, to her confrontation with the hooded figure."

"Yeah," Henry confirmed.

"But why did you feel the need to pull this story out in particular, and why did you wish to give it to me privately?"

Henry looked anywhere but at Killian, his shuffling and squirming beginning again in earnest. "It's just…I wanted to say thank you. I mean, these last few months have been really, really hard, and you've always been there for me, even when you were scared for mom too. So, yeah. Just…thanks for being the best step-dad out there."

Killian felt the familiar rushing sensation, and the next thing he knew he was back in his living room in the middle of the night.

Killian felt a suspicious lump in his throat as he watched the scene play out. "Do you really think that way about me, Henry?" he asked in a small voice.

"Of course!" Henry said with a smile. "And that's why you have nothing to worry about. All you have to do to be a great dad is to love your children, and you do. You really do. My little brother is going to be a lucky kid."

"I hope you're right, mate," Killian said, allowing hope to fill his heart and almost—not quiet but almost—push away the fear.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

When Killian woke the next time, he looked around eagerly, wondering which familiar face had shown up to guide him this time.

He found himself peering into the face of a stranger. He was tall and handsome with straight, black hair and familiar green eyes. Killian was quite sure he'd never met the man before, but there was a definite air of familiarity about him.

"Would you happen to be the Ghost of Christmas future?" Killian asked carefully.

"That I am," the man said. "I'm here to show you a Christmas from your future."

"Pardon mate," Killian said, "but who might you be?"

The man smiled, a secret smile that Killian couldn't quite understand. "For the moment, you can simply call me Charles."

"Very well, Charles," Killian said, feeling somehow both eager and hesitant to see the future visions this man had to show him. "Lead on."

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

The first thing Killian noticed when the room stopped spinning was himself and Emma sitting on the couch before the fire. Many years had clearly passed as both of them were quite elderly, sporting snow-white hair and skin significantly wrinkled.

"She's still beautiful, isn't she?" Charles asked, following Killian's gaze.

Killian let out a long, slow breath. My Emma is gorgeous, and she no doubt will be until the day she dies."

Charles rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "The two of you have always been so romantic and in love it's almost disgusting."

"You've known us long?" Killian asked, curious about the identity of this guide.

"All my life," came the cryptic reply.

"In what capacity?"

Charles shushed him, pointing toward the front door of the Swan-Jones home.

After a quick knock, the door was opened and a woman entered; a woman Killian didn't recognize—but he didn't need an introduction. The lass was the spitting image of Swan at the time he met her. This must be…couldn't be anyone else but…their daughter.

Killian felt the tears come to his eye as his lovely daughter rushed forward and hugged first Emma and then him.

"Eva!" Emma said. "You're here! You actually made it!"

"Surprise!" she said.

"What happened, love?" Older Killian asked, joy suffusing every inch of his face. "You told us you were required to work over the holiday."

"I couldn't do it, Papa!" she said. "I know how much Christmas means to you. To both of you. I rearranged my schedule and took the first flight I could get into Storybrooke. I couldn't stand to be anywhere but at home for Christmas."

Older Killian hugged his daughter once more, a single tear tracing its way down his wizened cheek. "You couldn't have given me a greater gift, little love."

The living room blurred, and when it came back into focus, Killian noticed that the evening had turned to night and Eva was joined by a whole houseful of new—and familiar—faces. Killian noticed a middle-aged Henry, seated next to a similarly aged Violet. Several children played, running and chasing each other in the far corner of the room.

Killian continued to scan the scene, smiling as Eva and Emma sat talking and laughing together. He saw himself with a tiny boy on his lap…and sitting next to them was none other than Charles.

"Papa!" the tiny boy said, turning toward Charles, "Grandpa told me a story! An exciting one about when he was a pirate!"

"Did he now, Liam?" Charles said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Grandpa has all kinds of exciting tales to tell."

"I know!" Liam said. "He said he'd tell me the one about the beanstalk and the giant and his first 'venture with Grandma. He's the best Grandpa ever, isn't he, papa?"

Charles put a hand on older Killian's shoulder. "That he is, Liam. My dad is the best father and grandfather I know."

Killian gasped, turning to look at his guide with new eyes. "You're…you're my son?"

Charles grinned. "The very same. You haven't officially met me yet, but I'll be born in just over a month."

The emotions rose up and nearly overwhelmed Killian. This man, this happy, well-adjusted man with a loving wife and a beautiful son was the first child born of his and Emma's love. "So…I didn't fail you, lad?"

"Look around you, Papa," Charles said, gesturing at the happy, if slightly chaotic, sight around him. "Look at the family you and Mama built. This is hardly failure. This is just about the greatest example of success I could imagine. I wouldn't have traded my life with you and Mama for anything in any of the realms."

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

"Killian?" He woke slowly, feeling a gentle shaking of his shoulder. "Killian, are you alright?"

Swan.

He smiled, reaching for her and pulling her in for a quick kiss. "Aye, love. I'm quite fine."

Killian looked around, noticing the first soft rays of the sun beginning to peek through the front windows. "What day is it, Swan?"

She gave him a strange look. "Um…well it was Christmas Eve when we went to bed last night, so that makes today Christmas. That's how these things work."

"So they did it all in one night," he muttered to himself, thinking of his three ghostly visitors and all the many places—and times—he'd seen.

"What?" Emma asked. "Killian, are you sure everything is okay? I woke up and you were gone, and your side of the bed was cold. It's not like you to leave our bed in the middle of the night."

Killian smiled tenderly at her, caressed her cheek and pulled her in for another long, slow kiss, his hand caressing her belly. When the kiss came to an end, he pulled away only far enough to press his forehead to hers. "I was afraid," he admitted.

Emma started and pulled away. "Afraid? Of what? Don't tell me we have a new villain in town! It's Christmas! Can't they at least wait until after the holiday to make our lives hell?"

Killian chuckled. "Calm yourself, love. Nothing like that." He rubbed her belly once again. "We've only a month yet before this little one comes, love, and I suppose I feared my ability to be the father our son deserves."

"Killian…" she said gently, but he stopped her with a raised hand.

"Don't worry love," he said. "Last night my fears were put to rest, thanks to some very persuasive guests."

"Well this sounds like it will be quite the story."

"Indeed," he admitted, getting to his feet, "suppose I tell you the entirety of it as I make you a Christmas breakfast?"

Notes:

-Merry Christmas (Eve)! I hope your holidays are going well! And with this chapter, my Christmas edition of Fluffy Fridays comes to an end.

-Up next: A canon divergence from the missing year between 3a and 3b. In this story, Killian arrives at Emma's New York apartment just in time for Christmas. Can Killian find a way to use the magic of the season to help Emma regain her memories?