Fifteen
Two Weeks Later
The media had finally decided the story was over just a few days before Christmas, probably because they'd rather spend their holiday with their own families rather than staring at the Nolan house all day with no updates to her story.
And somehow, after that, it's normal again. Well, as normal as it can be.
It's not easy to play the part she'd once performed so easily just a few months ago. For better or worse, the time she'd spent on the island has changed her.
Without any phone calls or messages sent from across the ocean, Emma feels stagnant. If she went back for him, there would be no guarantees of leads or direction. Leaving might even make it harder for Killian to find her.
Ruby and Belle, two of her closest friends, come to the house one morning and practically drag her out the front door to take her Christmas present shopping.
"So when will you tell us about what happened?" Ruby wonders, peering over at her from the driver's seat of Emma's beat up VW Bug.
Emma rolls her eyes. "I've already told you guys everything. I fell into the ocean and washed up on the shore of a tiny island somewhere."
"Yeah, and there was a hot lighthouse keeper. What's he like? Killian Jones."
Belle gasps from the backseat. "Ruby! Be kind." The librarian turns, "Sorry, Emma. How about we talk about something else?"
Their favorite place to shop for odds and ends is on Main Street, so that's where they find themselves, baskets in their arms while they stroll through the aisles chatting and laughing.
It's easier to forget the sadness she feels in the back of her mind while instead thinking about what gifts make sense for her parents, or while she's trying to keep track of the latest Ruby drama.
"Oh, Emma, Belle has a boyfriend." Ruby suddenly announces, shaking her head in surprise. "I totally forgot to tell you."
Emma looks at Belle, smirking slightly. "You do?"
Belle wears a bright red blush, covering her face with the mittens that she holds in her hands. "I do."
She and Ruby share a laugh at Belle's shyness over the fact that she's in a relationship.
Emma reaches out to touch Belle's arm, gently assuring her that she cares. "Who is it?"
Belle hesitates, looking between Ruby and Emma. She lowers her voice slightly, as if she's going to be overheard. "Will. You can't tell anyone. It's so new, Emma."
She has to laugh again. "Will Scarlet?"
Belle gasps. "Don't laugh! I wouldn't laugh if one of you were seeing someone."
"The brooding sailor and the hopeless romantic librarian." Ruby sighs wistfully. She plucks something off of a nearby shelf to add to her basket. "They're really cute, though, Em. After Christmas, we should get together for dinner so we can interrogate him."
Emma nods. "Sure."
"I don't see why you'd need to," Belle rolls her eyes. "You both know him."
"But we have to. It's our job!"
It always happens like this. In the middle of mundane conversation, a pit sinks to the pit of her stomach and she loses all of the joy she may or may not have had before.
Belle must notice, because she holds Emma's arm, pressing her hand and chin against Emma's shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Emma manages a smile. "I'm fine… I just think I should get going."
"Emma…"
"No, Emma, stay." Ruby begs, pouting her lower lip. "We can talk about literally anything else. Like, okay," She exchanges a wide-eyed look with Belle. "Last week I was with my Granny and she said there's no reason for us to keep making the apple crisp? What's that about?" Her voice lowers, "People still order apple crisp."
Belle's gaze follows Emma, a small worried frown on her lips. "Why don't we look for something to give Killian for Christmas?"
Somehow, the thought doesn't hit her as hard as it could. In fact, she thinks it would be good to buy him a present.
"Okay."
Belle thoughtfully turns to the shelves nearby. "How does he feel about candy canes? This store seems to have an endless supply."
They all laugh briefly. Emma tucks her hair behind her ears, thoughtful. "Let's see if they have any journals."
/
He's started thinking about fleeing the hospital in the middle of the night.
Everyday, it's the same thing. He sleeps, he eats, a nurse comes and chastises him for trying to stand on his own. Rinse and repeat.
His doctor says he has to stay put for another week, but the newspaper Smee brings him claims that it's almost Christmas, and he can't possibly spend Christmas wearing a paper-thin gown and a pair of socks from the lost and found.
Not when he could be with Emma. Not when she's out there wondering if he's even alive.
"Smee, I need to get out of here."
It isn't the first time he's suggested an escape, so Smee just glances at him briefly while he fiddles with the remote to the television that hangs on the wall ahead of them.
"Will you give me my clothes at least? This hospital gown is starting to chafe."
Smee sighs, frustrated with the remote control, and drops it on the table. He looks at Killian again. "What?"
Killian groans. "If I could hit you, I would. You're useless."
His only friend pivots his chair toward him and folds his hands together. "How about we have a chat?"
"About what?"
Smee shrugs. "Do you think you'll go live in America with Emma once you're out of the hospital?"
"That's the hope."
Smee hums thoughtfully. "I think it would be worth looking for her online… maybe we could see if we can find a friend…"
"Smee, I need to get to her in person." Killian interrupts Smee's train of thought. "I can't… I'm exhausted of this. I need to be with her."
Smee thoughtfully stares at him. Then, he reaches for his bag, digging into it to remove a slip of paper.
"I know it isn't much, but a friend of mine found an address online. It might be Emma's..."
Sitting upright, Killian's brow dips as his eyes narrow. "Hold on. You've had an address this whole time?"
Smee stares at him blankly. "You've been bedridden."
He thinks about his options very, very briefly, before he determinedly pushes back the sheets and forces himself to sit on the edge of the bed.
Killian grits his teeth. It's never easy getting out of bed merely to visit the restroom, but he can't force himself to stay another minute with Smee suffocating him to death with his crossword puzzles and mid-afternoon variety shows.
With teeth still gritted, he yanks the IV out of his arm, much to Smee's alarm. "Oh! Please, don't do what I think you're doing. Please stay in bed. Please."
His stocking feet hit the cold floor with a grimace. He extends an arm to Smee. "Hand me my clothes."
Smee stares at him, not moving. Killian stares back, lifting a daring eyebrow.
"Now, Smee."
The man jostles into action, grabbing his folded clothes from the bag he'd kept at his side. Killian sheds the hospital gown and takes each article as quickly as Smee passes them over.
It's not easy getting into the shirt, which really should be a warning sign that pulling on pants will be impossible, but he dives into the task headfirst anyway.
He does it for Emma. He does it for Henry. He does it for sake of his own sanity.
After he dresses, he finds his breathing labored and he aches in ways he shouldn't, but he looks at Smee again anyway. "The address."
Smee comes closer to him, paper in hand. He hesitates. "I can't give it to you."
Killian begins to cradle the pain in his ribs, but refuses to slow down. "Smee. I'm not asking."
He glares at the man until Smee caves, slouching his shoulders as he passes him the paper. "How are you going to get there? Look at you. You don't even have any shoes!"
"Then thank you for offering yours. Bloody kind of you."
Smee gives him a weary look, but kicks off his own boots to offer them to Killian. For someone trying to keep him from leaving, Smee isn't exactly doing a good job.
Holding his head up high, Killian knows the only way he'll be able to get past the nurses and doctors is if he does so quickly and with a level head.
He takes a deep breath and takes one step forward, already regretting the decision to wear a size of shoe too small for his feet.
"I'm only going to ask you once more to stay. Please. You can't make the trip like this alone."
Killian stares at Smee. Smee stares back at him.
Almost as if Smee reads Killian's mind, his shoulders fall and he sighs. "I'll collect my things."
/
It has been four weeks. Four weeks since she'd last seen Killian. Four weeks since she'd last kissed him. Four weeks since she asked him to come back to her.
There was a voice in her mind that whispered darkly to her sometimes. Maybe he stayed on purpose. Maybe he didn't actually want to leave. Maybe he hadn't actually changed.
Maybe everything she thought she'd experienced on a mysterious island in the middle of the ocean was in her head.
Emma does her best to shed these thoughts, but sometimes, she clings to them.
She drives to the diner, where she'd told Mary Margaret they could meet for lunch, and sits parked in front of the building for far too long.
Her phone buzzes twice.
Mom: Henry and I are at the diner!
Mom: Come whenever you're ready (smiling emoji)
Deciding she should go inside, Emma sighs deeply and unbuckles her seatbelt. Making life normal again felt wrong without Killian here.
She sits beside her mother at the diner, leaving room for David to join opposite them in a little while. Henry happily bounces in Mary Margaret's arms, giggling when Emma leans in and kisses his cheek. "Hi, baby."
Her mother smiles at her. "I think he's going to start standing on his own soon."
"Yeah?" Emma asks, excited. Henry squirms from Mary Margaret and into Emma's arms. She sighs happily, pressing her cheek into his baby soft curls. "I'll miss him being this small, though."
Mary Margaret chuckles. "We all will."
All too easily, Emma's delight with being with her family fades and she finds herself taking a breath just to hold it.
"If we knew where he was, I would tell you to go find him." Mary Margaret says, seeming to know exactly where her mind went.
Emma nods. "Yeah."
She pauses, a pest of a thought gnawing at her, begging to be shared. Emma fights with that impulse for a few seconds. Mary Margaret didn't need to know the very worst of her inner thoughts.
And yet, the thought gnaws. Emma peers at her mother, the ever kind and compassionate source of hope and love in her life.
"What's on your mind, honey?" Her voice is without meaning harm or pity. It hardly ever is.
Hesitating just a few seconds more, Emma adjusts herself in the booth so she can face her mother more.
"Up until the last few days, he still wanted to stay on the island, and I don't know if he really meant what he said. How am I supposed to know for sure? I mean, it isn't like we'd known each other for a long time."
Her mother frowns. "Emma, you can't think like this."
"It's just being honest." She sighs. "If he deep down had any doubts… maybe he took the easy out where he could and that's why we haven't heard from him."
Her mother, who has always been filled to the brim with fairytales and happy endings, reaches for Emma's hand and shakes her head.
"You have to have hope, Emma. Without it, there's no chance for a happy ending. Do you think we ever gave up hope we'd find you?"
Guilt hits her in a hard pang. She swallows thickly. "No. Of course not."
Her mother tilts her head to the side, smiling gently. "Then why should you give up on Killian?"
Abruptly, Emma's phone buzzes on the table and her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, shoot. I have to take this outside. It's the doctor."
Doctors visits had become a weekly routine. Between herself and Henry, the tests and exams seemed endless, although necessary to make sure they were alright after everything they'd been through.
Her mom takes Henry as Emma answers the phone, "Hello?"
"Hi, Emma, it's Doctor Whale's office. I'm Nurse Bell calling about your blood test results."
Emma hums as she steps out the diner's front door, the bell tinkling in her wake. Taking the steps down to the snowy patio quickly, she isn't paying any attention when she runs straight into another person.
"Oh!"
Her phone almost falls from her hand when she staggers after the impact. Before her stands her father, who laughs, apologetic. He steadies her with his hands on each of her arms.
"Oh, geez. Sorry, Sweetie."
She laughs in response, using his shoulder as a balance while she pulls herself back together. "It's okay. I should've been watching where I was going."
He gently reaches up to adjust her hat on her head. "There you go."
Emma smiles in thanks, softening a little at the gentleness of the interaction. "Mom and Henry are in our favorite booth." She holds up her phone. "I have to take this. Be right in."
David nods in understanding and Emma quickly pulls her phone back to her ear. "So sorry about that. I just... had a run-in with someone."
The nurse laughs. "I heard. Do you want to hear your results over the phone or would you rather come into the office?"
Emma shakes her head. There's no need to visit the doctor again if it was just a routine blood test. "I'll take them now, if that's possible."
Nurse Bell pauses. "Okay, well… everything looks good. Um… well, except…"
Her heart skips an anxious beat. "What is it?"
"Well, congratulations are in order, Emma," the nurse says with a smile she can hear even on the phone, "you're pregnant."
All of the blood completely drains from her face and she finds herself standing so still, so quiet, that she almost forgets that she's on the phone.
Her voice breaks when she finally squeaks out, "What?"
The nurse rattles off a bunch of information, but Emma isn't listening.
Pregnant.
How the hell did this happen?
Of course, she knows how. She just doesn't... know how.
Somehow, she ends the call and finds the will within herself to lift her feet, though her mind races with thoughts of Killian.
His eyes, so blue. Would their child have blue eyes too?
Once she stands inside Granny's Diner, she casts her gaze onto her parents and Henry.
Henry is going to be a big brother.
She's going to have a baby.
And Killian is still missing.
Every excuse she'd made up for not going to look for him now seems so insignificant. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that they were meant to be together, but now she actually felt it in her bones.
She shouldn't have waited for so long to go… maybe she shouldn't have even left so quickly after reuniting with her parents. But staying here now, with the knowledge that both of her children could be without their father… it felt wrong in the worst way.
Guilt floods her mind, squashing the darkness that had been bothering her all day with a bitter flavor. She almost allows it to overwhelm her, to anchor her to the premise it feeds her, but somewhere deep down, hope stirs within.
Hope that this is only a hiccup, that she would find him, and they would be together again. No matter where, or when, or how, Emma would see Killian again.
When she comes back to the table in the back corner of the diner, she sits beside her mom, who immediately turns to her with worry knitting her brow.
"What's wrong?"
Emma's mouth opens, words refusing to form on her tongue. She shakes her head slowly. "I'm going to find Killian. I should get on a plane tonight."
Mary Margaret looks across the table at David, as if she needs help wrangling Emma in, but her father nods, a kind smile on his face.
"Whatever you need to do. Let's go. I'm with you, Emma."