Killian Jones had never wanted for anything. Not with his mother's multimillion dollar shipping company that she had built herself. Their fortune provided him the opportunity to live in the lapse of luxury, anything he so desired was his with a simple phone call or a credit card. Everything except his mother herself.
He remembered Alice Jones fondly, remembers the trips to the beach they went on, being 5 years old and watching her teach his elder brother to sail. They both adored their time with her, their time cooking in the kitchen, going to a movie anything to keep the boys from realizing just how privileged they were.
He remembers what she used to tell them before they went to sleep. "A man who doesn't fight for what he wants deserves what he gets." She would say. He tried to live by that, even after her death when he was still a child. Even after his father, drowning in grief, spent most of his childhood in board meetings or bars rather than with him.
Boarding schools raise the children of the rich. This was a fact Killian knew quite well from all his time spent in them. But Killian was nothing if not resourceful. A man who doesn't fight for what they want deserves what they get, and so whatever Killian wanted, he would get. He had enough power and influence to do so.
Sometimes it took money, other times it took throwing around his father's reputation. Anyone who said no to him never held firm for long, all it took was a message to his father (His secretary really if Killian was being honest) and whatever stood in his way crumbled under their weight.
(Killian never really asked how exactly they did it, just that it was easier than parenting)
Liam never really liked Killian's mentality when it came to these things, he always tried to teach Killian how to deal with things like this with honor or good form. Those concepts made him roll his eyes.
It's not like Liam ever stuck around either to actually clean up the mess his bouts of 'honor' led him into. The moment Liam joined the military Killian was alone again, back to handling things his way. It was easier that way.
Killian would never want for anything. Except maybe for this splitting headache to subside. And it wasn't from a bloody hangover.
"Here you go babe." A voice says besides him as one of the crewen handed her an icepack to put on his aching head. "I can't believe that crazy person threw you off your own ship!" She exclaims, the coldness seems to help his aching head.
He smiled at her, his brunette beautiful girlfriend of half a decade. He doesn't know what he'd do without her, or at the very least he'd have a lot less fun doing it.
"Perhaps Mr. Jones needs to go see a doctor." The crewman notes. Milah rolls her eyes.
"Killian is fine, aren't you babe?" She asks. "We have a party tonight that I-we simply can not miss." He smirks. Typical Milah, much like himself she knows that the celebration shouldn't stop, he was Killian Jones after all.
What he wanted, he got, what he couldn't have he'd buy. Simple as that.
"Mr. Jones, you have a call sir." Another crewman said, the young lady who typically served the food. He waved her away.
"Tell whoever that is I'm busy." He says. He does not have time for his father or brother getting involved in his personal life. Always wanting to change him to fit their needs. He had no interest in whatever they had to say.
"Your brother says it can't wait." She adds nervously. "He said something about flying over if you don't take his call.
Killian groans in annoyance. The only thing worse than talking to Liam is him showing up here unannounced and killing his buzz. He recalls a time last year when he and his mates stormed into his party and effectively confiscated all the rum, a killing blow to even the most lively of events.
"Fine." He says offering his hand for the phone. "What is it brother?"
"Nice way to greet me, little brother." Liam says mildly amused.
"Younger brother." He responds impatiently. Killian's always hated his nickname which of course just made Liam use it at every turn. "Now tell me what's so important that you had to threaten to show up if I don't answer?" He snaps. He glances at Milah's face, she seems mildly annoyed but listening all the same.
"Why are you in Maine?" He asks. "You're supposed to be in New York for father's birthday." Killian rolls his eyes.
"Well that's exactly why I am here, brother. Today it's Maine and then tomorrow we head out to cross the Atlantic, we're thinking of hitting London next.I have no intention of visiting my father and his gang of supporters and gathering around and talking about what a wonderful father he is." Killian snaps. "You and I both know he wasn't."
"Be that as it may, he still only wants the best for us." Liam adds. "Just come down, smile and then you can be off again."
"You know the second I step foot there he's going to be down my throat about taking up the reigns of the company alongside you." Killian reminds him. He does so every time he sees him.
"And is that so bad?" Liam asks. "Is it so terrible to try to protect what mother built? So terrible to make something of our lives?" Killian can tell he was getting impatient with him "It's about time you stop obsessing over the past and grow up brother."
"Easy for you to say, you joined the bloody military to get away from him." Killian reminds him. While Liam was off being the honorable brother, he was expected to take part of their mother's company. He never wanted any of that. But what he wanted never seemed to matter.
"And you used alcohol and your bloody boat." Liam snaps. "What would our mother think if she saw you now? Prancing around without a care in the world with that gold digger at your side"
Now Killian was getting angry. "Mother always said we need to fight for what we want, brother. And right now I want to be done with this conversation."
Killian didn't wait for a response before hanging up.
He gives a long sigh, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Talking to his family always left him frustrated. Couldn't they see he was not interested in any of that? That he was perfectly content with life as it was?
"I'm sorry sweetie." Milah says, as she always does when he has a difficult phone call with his family. "But maybe it's best for us to go." She offers. "Rub a few elbows, and maybe get absolutely wasted at your dear ol' dad's expense." She says with a smirk.
He can't help smile at Milah's attempt to make him feel better.
"But for now, let's get ready for the best party this little rundown port has ever seen!" She says happily. She stands up and points to the crew who had given her the cold press. "What are you standing around for? We have work to do." She announces. "Don't worry babe, I'll take care of everything." She promises.
True to her word, she does. Killian can't help but laugh at the way Milah barked her orders and demanded at his employees, making sure that this party Milah insisted on throwing was to her liking.
Hell hath no fury like a disappointed Milah.
/
The party was excellent, just as Milah intended. Lord knows he would have heard about it had things gone any other way. It was something Killian liked about her, always striving for perfection.
They headed off to sea onwards the end of the party, just in time for the locals to get the bloody hell off his ship. Killian quite enjoyed it like that. He much preferred to head off to England with just his normal crew and Milah.
"Did you have a good time?" Milah asks, smiling down at him from her position on the railing. He was nursing one last beer, watching the lights from the town fade away.
"Of course love." He says, standing up to give her a swift peck on the cheek. She didn't hesitate to draw him in deeper, a hand on his cheek. "I always do."
It made her smile brighter.
"Always." She repeats. "That's what I've been meaning to talk to you about. We've been together for years Killian."
He nods. It had been a whirlwind romance, full of sex and alcohol and quite a bit of fun along the way. She understood him in ways that most did not. Far more than his brother or father ever did.
"Always." Milah repeats. "Do you think..." She trails off. He smiles, cupping her cheek.
"What is it? You know you can talk to me."
"Killian." She says slowly. "Have you ever thought... do you think..."She looks away then glances up. "Marry me Killian Jones."
He doesn't think he's heard her correctly. Marriage? Him?
He can't help it, he bursts out laughing. Him marry her? It was more ridiculous the more he thought about it. He felt Milah push him away, her hopeful smile gone in an instant.
"Why are you laughing?" She demands. "You ungrateful bastard." She pushes him again rougher.
"Milah..." He says trailing off. "Why the hell would I want to marry you?" Because that's the truth. They'd never spoken about this, never talked long term. Sure they've been together for the last few years but he never...he never thought about them being long term, never thought she wanted that life.
He sure as hell doesn't want it. He doesn't want to run the company like Liam wants him to. He doesn't want to stop seeing the world and he sure as hell doesn't want marriage and children.
Perhaps Milah doesn't quite understand him like he thought.
"Because-Because" She stutters out. "Because you love me!" She declares.
He shakes his head. "Milah I think you have the wrong idea about what we have. It's just...fun, nothing so serious. Just mindless fun."
"You absolute jackass!" She shrieks and gives him another push in the chest. It doesn't hurt persay, but it does make his grip on the railing loosen, then there's a sickening crack as the security on the railing breaks under their weight. He stumbles backwards and barely catches himself. He's holding onto his ship now.
"Bloody hell." He curses. "That was a close-"
He's interrupted by something being smashed over his head. The next thing he knows he hits the freezing cold water below.
/
He wakes up cold. The sun is high in the sky and everything bloody hurts. From his head, to his arm to ever bloody inch of his skin.
He groans at sound above him, buzzing and buzzing.
" ...who is he..."
"...ambulance..."
He opens his eyes just a crack. There's a man, no two of them, standing over him, one has a phone in his hand.
"Sir?" he says. "Are you alright?"
He's not but that should be bloody obvious.
"Can you tell us your name?" He blinks.
He can't. He can't remember...anything.
/
"Killian Swan." He repeats, now knowing his name.
Something about the name doesn't sit right with him. But then again, he doesn't know what does sit right with him.
He narrows his eyes at the blonde. "And you're my wife?" He repeats, looking over the blonde once more. She's attractive enough, he thinks. But she seems guarded, not at all the warm welcome he expected from a loving wife. Not to mention the obvious waitress outfit she had on. No, no wife of his would have to resort to serving food to make a living. He can't explain it, but he knows that his life was more than that, it was...he wasn't sure...
"What the bloody hell happened? Why am I here and why can't I remember anything?" He snaps impatiently. He has a hundred questions, starting with why he woke up on the beach and why it took him so long to be found. He's been in this insufferable hospital for hours and-
"Cool it buddy." The blonde snaps, shutting him down immediately. "Doctors say you got hit in the head, gave you some long term amnesia, probably from falling off the harbor drinking."
"Drinking." He repeats. Now that sounds like a fantastic idea...
"How are you feeling?" She asks, her expression softening slightly. But he can still feel walls from his lovely wife.
"Irritated." He replies. "And how do I know you're telling the truth?"
The blonde crosses her arms. "You have a compass tattoo on your rib cage." She replies. "A little detail I would only know if I was your wife." She replies smugly.
"I do not have a-" He stops short as he lifts his shirt to reveal the exact compass tattoo the woman described. He traces it lightly with his fingers. Ink on his own body that he didn't recognize. "Bloody hell." He says in realization.
"You really are my wife"