I hope you all enjoyed the Christmas fluff but are ready to get back into the story. Chapter 19 left off in May, 5 days after the accident had occurred and Chapter 20 moves ahead to the end of July and then quickly moves into August. It's a busy chapter...
Chapter 20
Anita's Place
Seattle, WA
Late July
It had been ten weeks since that fateful day in May that had changed Emma Swan's life, leaving her with significant injuries to her face and body and no memories of whom she was and where she belonged. As the summer progressed and her outer wounds and broken bones healed, steps were taken to repair her cheekbones, replace her lost teeth, and remove the myriad of tiny scars left from the broken glass.
But while her external wounds healed, the ones on the inside remained, and without family close by, where she would go next would have been difficult had it not been for Doctor Blanchard and her friend Mrs. Lucas. Anita's Place, run by Mrs. Lucas, was a transitional residential facility, located relatively close to the hospital campus. It was built to house individuals who motorically were fine, but continued to suffer from various stages of amnesia. The facility was named after Mrs. Lucas' daughter, Anita, who had lost her memory as a teenager and, without any place to go, had vanished from home one day. Running Anita's Place was a way for a mother to help other families heal almost thirty years later.
The first time Emma met Mrs. Lucas, she had felt an immediate connection. From the picture of the woman whose name the place held to the room decorations, she felt comfortable and welcomed. It was homey, and with all the residents moving in and out and the photographs lining the walls, it had been easy to tell that the owner was needed by the residents just as much as she needed them.
When Doctor Blanchard helped her move into her room, she had introduced herself as Kate Blue to the others, and while she didn't really feel like she was Kate Blue, neither did she feel like she was Emma Swan. Just a ship without its port.
As part of her work with Doctor Blanchard, she had realized how much she missed making art, and since painting and sketching with her dominant hand in a cast was quite difficult, she had been loaned a camera. At the suggestion of Doctor Nolan's nurse, Belle, Kate had spent hours in the hospital daycare center taking photographs of the children as they interacted with the workers, their parents and the other children. The discovery that she had an affinity for capturing the essence of a child with the lens had brought her joy unlike anything else that she could remember.
Now, a month after she had taken her first picture, she had joined with Ariel, another friend of Doctor Blanchard's, who owned a small gallery near Pike's Place. Emma took the photographs and Ariel sold them in her business. That part of her life felt right, which left her wondering if gallery work was a part of her past.
She was still receiving visits from the blue eyes in her dreams, but they no longer just made her feel just safe, they elicited unspoken needs that she didn't understand. Her dreams had become colorful and real, but when she opened her eyes, all that remained were the feelings. The pictures that had rushed through her mind while she slept never stayed. But this morning was different, and one memory stayed. The eyes were joined by a face that had turned into a drawing. Her hope was that soon the face would be joined by a body and her dreams would finally give the man a name.
Dressing quickly, she made her way to the hospital for what she hoped would be her last appointment with Doctor Nolan. While she sat in the waiting room, Emma couldn't stop looking at the picture she'd made of the face that haunted her dreams and stayed with her even after she woke. Unforgettable, she thought, just like the song that seemed to trigger emotions she didn't understand when she had first arrived in Seattle.
After being called back into the examination room, Emma sat quietly while Doctor Nolan completed his inspection of her new face and teeth. "No tenderness at all?" he asked her as he palpated around her eyes and down around her mouth.
As he touched her face, she kept expecting to feel different somehow, more like her old self and less like someone lost, but rarely did she get her wish. Even though she recognized that the person in the mirror was her, she was no closer to knowing that person than she was last week or even last month. Or so she thought.
Her doctors didn't agree with her thought process, though, as they kept telling her that even though she might not remember her life as Emma Swan, there were still pieces of her past self that were present in her daily behaviors. She just needed to grab onto those pieces when the memories surfaced and not be scared of what they might reveal.
It was easier said than done, she thought, realizing the doctor was staring at her while waiting for an answer. "No tenderness," she said quickly, hoping he wouldn't ask questions that were too difficult to answer.
He studied her, his blue eyes piercing as they tried to read her mind. "How's your memory, Emma...I'm sorry, I mean Kate?"
"Bits and pieces come back every day. But it's weird," she frowned and looked down at her lap, "as I find that I remember things about my life as Emma or about people I might know, or even places I might have been, but none of it seems real. It's as if," her mind searched for how to describe her thoughts, "I'm watching a show on television or working one of those puzzles that gives you little hints, one at a time. I never get a big picture, but..." she stopped and gave him a little smile, "I woke up with a new memory today and drew it to show Doctor Blanchard when I meet with her later."
He smiled at her affectionately. "It must be good, as there's a twinkle in your eye."
"I think so," she hopped down off the examination table, "but I still can't remember me. I'm beginning to wonder if I ever will."
He finished writing a note, and after closing her file, looked her in the eye. "Don't push so hard. Isn't that what my lovely wife says?"
Emma sighed, "Yes, but there are a few at Anita's Place that have been there for months and haven't remembered. Sometimes, it's just so lonely." Except now, she thought, she had something else to go with the eyes that visited her in her dreams. When her mystery man was around, the loneliness didn't seem as bad.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm also sorry we couldn't give you more."
Something kept nagging at her about her whole situation, but unable to give it words, she mentally packed it away until later. "It's okay, Doctor Nolan. I know you did your best and I really appreciate everything that you've done already." She followed him down the hall and into the waiting room where there were several other patients waiting to see him. "Thanks, again."
Nemo's Innovative Designs' Offices
New York City, NY
First week of August
Sitting in the lunchroom reading contracts, leases, letters, etcetera, had quickly become the normal for Elsa since she had started her position as in-house counsel for Nemo's Innovative Designs. But usually the problems she dealt with on a daily basis didn't make her suspect someone was specifically targeting her. Normally, the problems were dealt with and then she moved on to other projects and other problems.
However, with one specific project, which happened to be the first one assigned to her, there were constant issues. As soon as one was rectified, another appeared. None of them too large, and all seemed as if they were meant more to slow down progress and not stop it completely. Since the cause and solution to the initial problem had involved her family, the chances that they were still involved grew with each complication. At least that's how it seemed to her. Or was she just being paranoid?
It had all started earlier in the month, on her first day of work for NID. She hadn't thought there was anything specific or special in the way the cases were assigned, but considering who her family was, now she wasn't so sure.
Elsa had arrived early for her first day of work, and after filling out her paperwork in Human Resources, she had been led to the office of Sydney Glass, her immediate superior. He had been sitting behind a large desk surrounded by stacks of files. When he looked up at her, the relief on his face was almost palpable, and after breathing a huge sigh of relief, he had stood up and randomly, or so it had appeared, selected a pile and handed it over.
"Here are some open projects Isaac was working on before he left. You can start on these. Come, let me show you to your office."
She had followed him to her office where he had pulled out the chair and, with a sweep of his hand, indicated she should sit. She had set the pile of files on the desk, expecting him to go over what he had wanted her to do, but instead he just said, "If there's a problem, let me know," before he walked away.
Elsa opened the first file and the title caught her attention. Inside she found a contract that NID had been negotiating for a piece of property in Westchester County, but the owners of the property had stalled time and time again. Wondering what type of company they were dealing with, Elsa had flipped through the pages and was only mildly surprised when she saw the company's name.
"This is freakin' great," she muttered disgustedly, as she looked down at the name of the property owners. Ingrid Frost's company, better known as Snow Queen Real Estate, was not only a powerful force when it came to real estate along the Eastern Seaboard, but they were also...her family. After hours of reviewing all the documentation, Elsa felt that NID's offer should have been accepted in the beginning as it had been above market value. But it hadn't been, and since then multiple discussions had gone back and forth stretching over eighteen months. She found it positive that the person they had been negotiating with happened to be her favorite aunt and promptly made a telephone call.
Happily, her Aunt Ingrid had listened to reason and after a pleasant conversation, she had gone to Sydney with a settled contract. Since then the project had become hers, and instead of each step moving along quickly as they had in several of her other projects, it had been littered with issues, all meant to slow, but not to stop.
"And this permit issue is just one more hassle," she muttered as she closed the file and shoved it away.
"Do you always talk to yourself when you eat lunch?" she heard as Regina pulled out a chair and sat down.
Elsa rolled her eyes. "When the need arises and there's no one else to complain to." She grinned and tapped her finger on the folder. "Just another issue with the Westchester County project, but I'll deal. How are things with you?"
"Oh, things are fine." Regina tried to answer nonchalantly, but her grin and sparkling eyes told Elsa everything she needed to know about how her relationship with Robin was going.
"That good, huh?" Elsa teased her. "That's not what Robin told me the other day when he stopped by.
"Oh," Regina's eyebrow went up in interest, "when was that?"
"It was nothing, really." Elsa frowned slightly. "He was asking about Killian."
Regina sighed. "I know he's upset that Killian hasn't been in touch recently, but do you have any news?"
Every time she thought of the devastation on Killian's face when she had seen him last, her eyes teared up, but she didn't have a lot of information, either. "Blue talks to him, I think." She looked away to compose herself before continuing and noticed Liam Jones walking into the lunchroom. Watching out of the corner of her eye, she went on with her story, "It has something to do with Henry."
"And what about Emma?" Regina asked slowly, as if she had an idea her friend wasn't listening very closely.
"Nothing," Elsa forcibly pulled her attention away from the man she found to be such an intriguing dichotomy, "but I know Blue is trying to look into what happened." Her voice trailed off as she watched Liam leaving the room. When she turned back to Regina, there was a look on her friend's face that told her she'd been busted. "What?" she demurred, thinking perhaps if she played dumb it would divert any questions, but then again, she should have known better after all that Emma and she had done to push Regina and Robin toward each other.
"You know who that is, right?" Regina's voice held a slightly disdainful tone.
"Yes," Elsa agreed, "he's Killian's brother and," she hesitated trying to think of what she wanted to say, "I know what I've heard about him from Emma and Robin, mainly But, Regina, I've not seen that side of him."
"Ah oh," murmured her friend. "What does that mean?"
"Well," she pointed to the folder that she had been reading, "this is his project, and from what I've been told, he hasn't been so easy to work with. But," she thought about the interactions she'd had with him and how pleasant he'd been, "I find him rather charming." She shrugged her shoulders, giving Regina a sheepish look.
"Oh, Elsa. Don't-" Regina started to say before Elsa interrupted.
"I'm not," Elsa jumped in, "but I don't need a lecture. Let's talk about you and Robin."
Regina just looked at her for a few minutes before nodding her head in agreement. "Okay. But if you need to talk…"
Sitting there listening to Regina talk about Robin and how they hoped to go visit Roland soon, Elsa tried to push Liam out of her mind, but the sadness she saw in his eyes called to her.
Second week of August
It had been almost three months. Who was he kidding? It was exactly eleven weeks and four days since he had taken Killian to the Newark airport. That added up to eighty-one days that he was left to wonder how his brother was feeling. Eighty-one days to wonder how Emma's wounds were healing and eighty-one days to wonder when Killian would bring her to New York City.
During those eighty-one days, Liam had done quite a bit of soul searching and working through all the clutter in his mind; the clutter had been building up inside from not taking time to deal with the death of his parents, from not dealing with Lily's betrayal and from the huge wall that living without a heart had created around him. Somehow with all his soul searching, his love for his brother, and his brother's love for a woman, his heart was slowly healing.
He needed to find the man his mother would approve of and not one that she would find appalling. His first course of action had been to improve his treatment of others, which meant decreasing his negative behaviors and increasing his positive. Question was, did he have what it took?
He thought so, and while waiting for the people whose forgiveness he needed the most to arrive in town, he planned to start with those he saw on a daily basis. And for the last seventy-nine days he had been making more of an effort to treat people as he wished to someday be treated in return. The problem was that even after seventy-nine days, when he walked anywhere in the offices, people stared, and he was having a difficult time getting used to that.
"What did you expect, you git? You can't expect miracles," he groused to himself as he entered his assistant's office on the way to his own.
She looked up as he walked by her desk. "What's got ye so out of sorts?" His plan was to ignore her and hope she didn't hound him with questions. He made it to his office and had just sat down when he heard the tread of her shoes approaching. "Come now," she stopped right inside the door and looked at him over her glasses, "why the awful puss?"
Colleen, Liam's assistant, had been a part of NID since its inception and had taken him under her wing as soon as Nemo brought him on board. Most days Liam felt like he couldn't do without her, but other days, not so much. Those were the days she made him feel like he was ten and being scolded for something he had done wrong.
"I don't have a sulky face," he told her and pointed to his lips, giving her what was obviously a fake smile. "See?" He even managed to show some teeth.
"Oh, come now, son. It can't be all bad. Tell Colleen what's troublin' ye." She pulled out the chair in front of her desk and made herself comfortable.
At times like these, Liam knew he only had a few options. The easiest would be to invent an excuse for leaving and just go, but since she knew his schedule better than he did, that wouldn't work. He could also just ignore her and leave the room and not deal with his issues, but that was something the old Liam would have done. Another option he had tried before would be to start working on a project, but not only would he end up redoing whatever he drew, he'd get an inquisition.
And so, he manned-up and opted for the truth. "How much longer must I endure the odd looks around here, as if they're waiting for me to explode any moment?" he huffed. "It's rather disconcerting."
"Well," she began, "you..."
"I know," he interrupted, "I've not been easy to work with." Her look over the top of her glasses told him that was an understatement. "Alright, I've been a right bastard to work with, but I'm trying to change."
"And I see that," she tried again, "but..."
"I was a wanker for many years, and being civil for only seventy-nine days is too soon to expect acceptance," he finished for her.
"Looks like you are on the right path, Liam," she told him quietly and stood up to leave the room. Just before she disappeared into her office, she looked back. "Ye've not said anything but I know a broken heart when I see it. I'll also wager whatever happened with your brother started that heart's healing. The next step in your journey is to get it to beat again."
The first part of her statement surprised him at how perceptive she was, but the latter part perplexed him. "And just how do I do that?" he whispered brokenly.
"Ye know." She gave him a look as if he should be able to read her mind and then was gone.
Liam thought about what she had said about his beating heart and knew she was right. A beating heart meant you were alive and he hadn't felt alive in years, except...his mind wandered back to a meeting nine days ago.
He had walked into Nemo's office, and when the goddess with the blonde hair had turned his way and smiled, he had been gobsmacked. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, all words had escaped from his head and his hands had gotten clammy. Behaviors he hadn't experienced since secondary school.
Nemo had introduced Elsa Winters as their in-house counsel replacing Isaac, and, tongue-tied, he had stuttered his way through the introductions. He had surreptitiously wiped his hand on his pants and then held it out toward her. When she had placed her hand in his, the shock reverberating through his system almost brought him to his knees. It had only been sheer will that had kept him on his feet, and after making his excuses, he had exited the office. As soon as he was through the door, he remembered placing his hand on his chest, and there it was...his heart...beating.
But once he had returned to his office, he had realized why she was so familiar to him. She had been prominently featured in the pictures on Emma's cell phone, which meant she had a good idea of what an arsehole he had been to his brother and her friend. If she had preconceived ideas about him, he didn't know if he would be able to change her mind, even if he wished to. And so, he had tried to stay away. But sometimes fate has other plans and everywhere he turned, she was there. He, the moth and she, the flame, and nine days ago the dance had begun. The question was who would win?
Seattle Grace Hospital
Seattle, WA
Third week in August
Monday
Mary Margaret watched one of her patients shut the door behind him, and seeing that she had some time before Emma's appointment sat down to review her chart. In comparison to many, it was relatively thin, but unlike the others this one had a neon tab with a number written on it. Matching that number with a large, envelope style folder she took from another filing cabinet, Mary Margaret spread out the contents on the table in front of the sofa.
Wishing she knew more about Emma Swan, or Kate Blue as she was calling herself these days, Mary Margaret studied the artwork. Talented, even when drawing with the wrong hand, but a very fanciful pattern to her work. When asked about her mother, Snow White was the first thing that popped into her mind, and her friends were Red and Ella. Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella were the fairytale names that fit those nicknames she had written on one of her drawings, but had she always lived in a fantasy world? And who did those blue eyes belong to? The last time she had drawn a new memory it had been of the face that went with those eyes. An interesting one, but not one to assign a character name to yet.
When the knock at the door came, signaling Emma's arrival, her plan was ready. "Kate," she almost had to grit her teeth to call her by that name but at this time it was all about Emma's well-being. She was the person who mattered in all this. She was the person they wanted to find once again.
Emma walked into the room, a big smile on her face and holding several sketch pad sized pages in front of her like a shield. "Are those telling you anything new?" Emma asked suspiciously as she sat down in a chair to the right of Mary Margaret.
Mary Margaret stacked the drawings and pushed them off to her left. "Nothing new. I was just organizing your chart." She wrinkled her nose, "I'm just not a fan of paperwork."
"Oh, me eith..." Emma answered quickly before realizing what she was about to say and her eyes grew large.
"You remembered something, didn't you?" Mary Margaret watched the facial expressions as they moved across Emma's face. Surprise, happiness, before settling into sorrow.
"Not a memory, really" Emma stared across the room, almost as if the answers to the questions in her head were written on the wall, "more a feeling of disgust when paperwork was mentioned."
"Okay, if you say so." It wasn't that she didn't believe her patient, but more that she felt there was a wall stopping her from peeking around it. The question was, why? Was she scared of the person around the wall or was she scared of herself? Shelving that for now, she brought the attention back to what Emma had brought with her. "I see you've been drawing. New memories?"
Mary Margaret watched Emma look down at her drawings and smile at them. A smile that surprised her in its tenderness. "I did," Emma answered somewhat breathlessly before holding out the first drawing for her to take.
Reaching for the drawing and holding it in front of her, Mary Margaret was once again impressed with the talent that it took to draw such realistic figures; people that looked like they could easily step off the page and have a conversation with you.
The drawing in front of her was of a man, and a rather good-looking man, too. Since she had seen his face before, it meant that this was the man whose eyes Emma saw in her dreams. He had a strong jaw covered in scruff, wind-swept black hair that fell over his forehead, and piercing blue eyes, but this time she had continued the drawing. The man was wearing black slim fitting jeans, black boots, and a dark shirt covered by a long, black leather jacket, but her portrait didn't stop there. He was standing behind a microphone, holding the stand with his right hand...and his left hand rested lightly against the base, except it wasn't a hand at all. Where his left hand was supposed to be, there was a hook.
"This is a beautiful drawing, but do you know who this man is?" she asked Emma as she continued to study the drawing.
Emma glanced at the picture and then back up at her. "His name? No, but he's the same man in this picture." She handed over a second drawing.
Mary Margaret felt her eyebrows raise high as she studied the new drawing. The picture took place in a large room that could have easily been a living room/dining room combination, as there were clusters of chairs and eating tables too. Standing next to the tables, Emma had drawn, not one, but three fairies, complete with wings. One blue, one green and the last one pink.
Sitting on one of the sofas was a woman who was dressed as Cinderella, but she was obviously very pregnant and she was facing another woman wearing a long red cape. Standing off to the side Emma had drawn the same man as in her first picture, but this time he was standing next to none other than...Robin Hood.
Mary Margaret couldn't be sure because of the different ages of the girls, but thought they had been drawn before. "What were you doing when you remembered this scene, Kate?"
Emma grinned shyly. "It was the other night at our group session, remember?" Mary Margaret shook her head no. "Well," Emma continued, "we were just talking and all of a sudden it was as if I was in that room," she pointed to the picture with the group in it, "instead of at Anita's Place," she finished.
"What about this?" Mary Margaret put the drawing of the lone man behind the microphone. "Why the mike?"
Emma stared at the picture, saying nothing but worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, until finally she met Mary Margaret's eyes and whispered, "I don't know."
Something was stopping her from letting those memories in, thought Mary Margaret as she gathered up the drawings and put them all in the folder. "Don't be afraid of those feelings, Kate. I'm right here with you. Remember, we're in this together."
Emma suddenly found something interesting to stare at on the floor and had just lifted her head as if she were going to say something when the phone rang. Mary Margaret glanced at it but during her sessions she asked that all her calls be held so its ringing had to mean something important.
"Go ahead and get that. I'll see myself out," she heard Emma say.
"Doctor Blanchard," she answered quickly before it rang back to her assistant. "Can I help you?"
"You're treating Emma Swan." It was said with such authority and in such a definite manner that she almost found herself agreeing with the caller. It was only her years of experience at maintaining confidentiality that had her swallowing the affirmative answer and responding, "Excuse me?"
"Emma Swan," her caller repeated. "She is your patient."
Mary Margaret really had to fight to not give any indication that, yes, she treated the person in question, but she really wanted to. She wanted this person to be someone who loved Emma and wanted to see her whole again and reunited with her family. Years of practice won out and finally she came up with, "I'm sorry but patient confidentiality prevents me from either confirming or denying anything having to do with patients, understand?"
"I understand, Doctor Blanchard. I understand keeping confidentiality, but I'm desperate. Perhaps, I can change your mind. Let me tell you a little about Emma Swan."
Mary Margaret could no more make herself hang up than she could give up a good piece of chocolate. With a pen in hand, she listened.
Portland, Maine
Third week in August
Monday
"Yes, I understand," Killian said into the phone as he stood on the front porch of the cabin and stared out at the ocean.
"Things happen on her schedule. You can't rush them, no matter how much you would like," he heard through the phone.
He sighed. "It depends on her. I get that, but I'm just tired of waiting."
The speaker's voice conveyed a little sympathy before she continued, "I'm sure you are. Try to be patient. We'll speak again soon. Goodbye." And the line went dead.
"And just like that I'm back to waiting," Killian muttered as he pocketed the phone.
Assured that Henry was still involved in his DS game, Killian leaned on the porch railing of the cabin and went back to staring at the sea. He had spent many hours this summer looking out at this spot, the same spot that if he walked down to the shoreline and turned his head to the left he could see the cliff. The cliff that protected the trees. The trees that protected the rock. The rock that protected the beads. And that beads that symbolized the promise.
The promise that he had given to the woman he loved with his entire heart and soul. And since he had lost her, his heart felt as if it had been crushed. But it went beyond just the crushed heart. His failure to keep that promise destroyed his soul. Now, as a man without a heart or a soul, what did he have to give?
Nothing, he thought. "I have nothing," he whispered as the ever present lump in his throat tightened, keeping him from saying more.
"You have me," Killian heard Henry cry from behind him.
You bloody fool, he thought as he slowly turned to face his young charge. How could you be such a git?
"Henry," Killian exclaimed, "I didn't know..." was all he got out before Henry launched his body at Killian, wrapping his little boy body around his legs.
"Killian," Henry sobbed, "don't leave me too. Please, don't leave me too."
His arms clutching Henry's body as he cried against his legs, Killian tried to think of the words to make everything right, but he didn't have any. And even though he didn't know if things could be right, he knew he had to try, if not for his own sake then for Henry's. "I'm not going anywhere Henry."
"Promise?" Henry responded.
It came out muffled against his legs, but the word sent a charge through Killian's system. The question was the nature of the charge. Was it a sense of dread that he would eventually break the lad's heart? Or was it a sense of anticipation that he would keep his promise and give him the life he deserved?
Taking a deep, cleansing breath of the warm sea air, Killian moved them around so they could sit side by side on the step. "Henry," he began solemnly, "I promise I will do everything in my power to give you what you need. And I'm sorry that I'm..." But what could he say? He could say he missed Emma. He could say he needed Emma. He just wasn't sure how to go on without her.
"It's okay." Henry put his hand on Killian's leg and leaned against his shoulder. "I know you miss Emma. I do too, but she's still with us."
His last statement caused Killian's breath to catch in his throat. "I do miss Emma, Henry," Killian told him quietly, "but what do you mean about Emma still being with us?"
Henry smiled up at him and laid his hand over Killian's heart. "She's in here, Killian. She always will be."
Killian had to swallow before he could get his voice to work, and even then it sounded overly husky to his ears. "Aye, lad, she is. How did you get so smart?"
He felt Henry shrug one boney shoulder. "Just comes naturally, I guess." And then as was typical of his ten-year-old attention span, he leaned around and asked, "Can we go get ice cream?"
When Killian nodded his head, Henry whooped and ran inside for a second before he was back pulling Killian to his feet.
As they walked along the shoreline toward town and the ice cream shop, Killian realized that the crowds were getting thinner which meant the summer was ending. In the next few weeks they would have to leave their little hideaway and he would once again have to face the people and their good intentions.
Could he face Elsa, Ashley and Blue as they looked on with pity? And his best mate Robin, how did he apologize for not only disappearing but for his actions that caused his injuries? Would Robin just forgive him and that was it? If the roles were reversed and Robin had been driving, could he have given his forgiveness easily?
And seeing Liam on a daily basis, how was that going to work? Could he deal with Liam's constant interference in his life? The last time he had seen his brother it was almost if he had wanted to talk about Emma, but if so, why? Killian had no desire to hear what Liam had to say about her as experience had taught him to expect nothing but bad would be said. He was afraid that might lead to his punching his brother for real and not just in a dream world.
Seeing the ice cream store ahead, Henry took off running. "Race you," he called as his feet tossed sand into the air.
Letting him get a little head start, Killian envied the easiness of youth, until finally he took off at an easy jog. He caught up with Henry just as he opened the door of the shop and proclaimed himself the victor.
"I won!" he shouted as he hurried to the counter to be the first to order.
They sat on a bench outside and as they ate, Killian listened to Henry chattering on about anything and everything that happened to pop into his mind. Thankfully the topics didn't require a lot of interaction since his mind kept coming back to the same thing. It was past time that he made a phone call and he needed to make it now. Pulling out his phone, he dialed.
Central Park
New York City, NY
Third week in August
Monday
When the phone rang as he was walking through Central Park on his way home, Robin had answered it, not expecting it to be the person that he had thought about several times a day for the past twelve weeks. On one hand, speaking with Killian again had been just like riding the proverbial bike, but on the other hand the elephant in the room had stilted the conversation, keeping it from flowing smoothly. And while it was true that as the conversation continued some of the familiarity returned, there were words that needed to be said, but just what the words were exactly, he hadn't figured it out yet.
Not speaking directly with Killian since that fateful day in May that had changed both their lives had been frustrating. When he had initially found out from Marco that Killian had called to check on his recovery, Robin's first thought had been relief, but then he had learned that Killian had apologized about the accident and the worry had returned. As the summer had continued and no other calls had been forthcoming, Robin's worry turned to concern that Killian was angry with him, because while that day would forever be remembered as the end of Killian's happy ending, it had aided in accelerating his own. To that extent the guilt lay squarely on Robin's shoulders.
"It was good to talk to you, you big git," Robin scolded his best mate. "You owe me a pint."
"That's it?" Killian asked quietly.
"That's it." Hanging up the phone, Robin was left with a feeling of melancholy over what might have been. He could hear the pain in his mate's voice and after being a part of Killian's life for fourteen years, he had a pretty good idea what he was feeling. He just wished Killian would accept support from his friends. If he lost Regina, he wasn't sure how he would behave. Quite possibly he would want to run in the same way.
But thoughts of loss on a day when all other aspects of his life were ace and promised to continue in that direction needed to be put aside as he had plans in the courtship of his lady love. From their rather unorthodox flirtation, with her as the instructor and he the student, to their first date and their first time together all served to ready them for what came next. A tragedy that brought her immediately to his side. And that led to confessions of love and to moments that quickly taught him that he was exactly where he belonged.
This summer, Regina had learned about the many obstacles of loving a man who had not one, but both legs encased in casts. From broken vases, knocked over furniture and concessions in the bath, they had to discover the best way for the rooms to be arranged to accommodate his clumsy ways. In addition, they'd had to discover and adjust to sharing space with another. It had been a journey where she had learned which side of the bed he preferred and that he loved holding her in his arms as they fell asleep each night. There was nothing he liked better, except perhaps her creative ministration to parts of his broken body that weren't so broken after all.
Never having lived with a woman, Robin found himself holding his breath while he waited for everything to fall apart, but when their love for each other grew, he became more and more settled. Seven weeks after they had moved into her apartment his casts had been removed and his mobility had improved. Physical therapy had given him the independence back he had lost, and as the physical reason why he had moved into Regina's disappeared and he could move out, he realized that was the last thing he desired. Having her as a part of his life became something he needed to make permanent.
Waiting and watching for the right time became difficult as he was an impatient man. However, when they had gone to bed last night, as he loved her, an epiphany had come to him that today would be the day. Today he would visit his pop's jewelry store and choose the perfect ring to give to her.
He had awakened hard and needy but one look at her sleeping so peacefully and he couldn't disturb her. The shower had called to him and as the steam rose in the room and the soap had reached the perfect lather consistency, he took himself in hand. It felt good but not nearly as good as when she surprised him and her warm, wet body pressed up against his and her magical fingers had taken him to the stars. His body sated, she had given him a kiss and left the shower, saying she had to make a phone call.
After his shower was complete, he had pulled her close as she was dressing and the ensuing exchange still caused his...toes to tingle, he thought with a grin.
Physical Therapy had been a formality and after donating his cane to some other person in need, he had walked out a free man.
His last stop had been at Hidden Gems to see if he could locate the perfect ring for Regina. He had looked at large and small diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires but nothing caught his eye as the special ring that he should give to his bride. Until finally, as he had many times over the years, his father saved the day. Marco shared that he had been saving a ring for someone special and wished for his son to give it to the woman he loved with the hope that they have many years together.
Robin took the box from his pocket and stared at the circle of diamonds. So beautiful and classy just like his girl, but while he had loved hearing from Killian, he was left unsettled; sad for his friend for what should have been and guilty that his own happy ending was within his grasp. What should he do, he wondered before unlocking and entering the apartment.
"Regina?" She was staring out the windows as if lost deep in thought. "I didn't realize you would be home so early."
When she turned around and her gaze met his, he felt a little like she was trying to read his mind. "I had this strangest feeling you needed me. Besides," she smiled, "don't we have something to celebrate?"
He frowned at her as he didn't think he had forgotten anything nor did he think she knew about the ring in his pocket. "Did I forget something?" Crossing the room, he took her in his arms thinking how wonderful she felt and that he would never take what they had for granted.
~~~CS~~~
As soon as she turned around, Regina could tell something was bothering Robin. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes and after she noticed his missing cane and mentioned celebration, he had frowned as if he wasn't sure what she was talking about. But when he took her in his arms and there was a fine tremor throughout his body, she decided she was going to have to force it out of him.
Taking his hand, she pulled him down in front of the fireplace, kissing him softly. "What happened, Robin?"
His green gaze locked with hers, his eyes changing shade as his thoughts swirled behind them. He kissed her fingertips and finally started talking. She learned that Killian had called and he had bought a small cabin in Portland, Maine where he and Henry had been staying during the summer. They also learned that Sister Blue was in the process of helping Killian adopt Henry and that by the end of the month they would be moving to New York City.
"I found myself feeling guilty for being happy and Roland..." He let the statement trail off.
"Robin," She said quietly, "why feel guilty about Roland? We've talked to him several times, and now that you are no longer going to therapy, we can go see him."
"You wouldn't mind?" His eyes pleaded with hers.
She frowned slightly. "Why would I mind? I fell in love with the little boy even before I fell in love with you."
His smile was genuine this time, causing his eyes to sparkle and his dimples to pop. His selfless love for that child and his empathy for his friend touched her, and her heart rose into her throat, making it hard to breathe. She didn't think, didn't plan, nor did she worry that it wasn't proper, but before her confidence deserted her blurted, "Marry me?"
When his eyes went wide and he didn't immediately blurt out yes, she felt her face flame and regretted her impulsiveness. She was mentally kicking herself and calling herself names when his expression changed and he tilted her chin up forcing her to meet his eyes, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you?"
"Oh," she uttered softly.
"But," He continued without waiting for her to say anything further, "since you asked so eloquently, my answer is yes. Of course, I'll marry you. In fact…" He pulled a ring box from his pocket and opened it, slipping the glittering piece of jewelry onto her finger. "Perfect."
Regina looked down at the ring on her finger, and even with her vision blurred she could tell it was gorgeous. "I love you."
"And I love you."
When his lips covered hers, her heart soared with the knowledge that her dreams really were coming true.
NID Offices
New York City, NY
Third week of August
Wednesday
After Colleen helped him see that being near Elsa caused his heart to beat again, Liam found himself unconsciously seeking her out. He wasn't fooled into thinking that he had changed enough to warrant having someone care for him, but when he was feeling low, she was like a long, cool drink to a parched man. The fact that the more he was in her company, the more alive he felt hadn't escaped him either.
Even now, several days after being in the same room as her, he could feel the energy that her presence brought into his life and his blood to rushed through his system. The details of their last encounter were so burned in his brain that every time he closed his eyes he was right back in that room.
On his way to the meeting the anticipation of seeing the Blonde Goddess again zipped through him. His heart beat out a staccato rhythm, beads of sweat covered his brow and the minute he walked into the room, the air around him seemed charged with energy. Her eyes met his as he stood in the doorway and for just a split second, he felt connected to her. Like they were two halves of a whole... but then reality set in and he shook off that irrational thought.
When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from Elsa's, he noticed she wasn't the only one in the room as he had originally thought, but leaning against the table next to her was the CFO of NID, Michael Darling. When Michael turned around and gave him a look he was unsure how to interpret, and with a brief greeting, the younger man moved around the table to where he had left his paperwork. Taking a seat to Elsa's right, Liam opened his file and tried to focus on what was in front of him instead leaning toward the woman on his left for another whiff of her scent.
When he opened the folder and saw they were speaking with Ingrid Frost, who was part of the Frost Foundation, he glanced over at Elsa with a frown, but she was already starting the call. He hadn't heard they were dealing with any other projects that involved property owned by the Frost Foundation since his projects issues had been resolved.
His project in Westchester County had been stalled for months until Elsa started working for NID and somehow solved a few problems that no one else had been able to fix. And now a second piece of property owned by the same foundation, which a quick glance through the file told him had been thought dead end, was suddenly back in the picture. Was Elsa responsible for this one too?
As the meeting continued, he found himself observing more than participating as he trusted her to do what was best for NID. Several times throughout the call, he saw a subtle shift in her facial expression but for the most part she was professional and the meeting was over relatively quickly and painlessly for them. After Michael left, Liam stayed to watch her make changes within several sections of the contract and knowing that he shouldn't, but unable to help himself, stood next to her, ostensibly to read over her shoulder.
He tried to stop, he really did, but the closer to her he stood, the more alive he felt, the louder the buzz that sang inside of him and the warmer his once cold and sterile life seemed. Placing one arm on the table and the other on the back of her chair, he leaned in just enough to get another generous whiff of her perfume. It was a light mixture of floral and musk, but one he wasn't sure he would ever get tired of smelling.
As he watched her typing, he fought against the need to bury his nose just behind her ear, taking a whiff of woman and that elusive smell that he had come to associate with her. Her hair hung loose, and when a few strands fell across his hand, the urge to rub it between his fingers, feeling its softness, was overpowering.
The fine tremor in her hand and the way her breath hitched periodically told him she was not as immune to him as she was letting on, but what did he have to offer? He was just a man who was working to change but hadn't completed his journey yet. She provided such a temptation that when she turned her head in his direction, her mouth open just enough so that he could see the tips of her pearly white teeth, he desperately wanted to cover her lips with his. With a silent groan, his common sense won out, and pushing up, he lifted his hip up onto the table, waiting for her to finish.
As she completed the work and shut down her computer, she gave him a hesitant look as if she wasn't sure if she should stay in the room or gather her belongings and run. He didn't know what it was that swayed her, but when she closed the laptop, stood up and, putting a bit of distance between them, leaned against the wall. He watched and he waited, curious as to who would speak first.
"What?" She finally broke the silence that had become so thick that he could almost feel it.
Waiting a heartbeat or two, he finally answered, "Isn't it about time you shared with me your secret when it comes to dealing with the Frost Foundation? A group, I should remind you, that has been a thorn in NID's side for years." He stretched his legs out in front of him as if he had all the time in the world. Her eyes widened and there was a subtle tightening of her lips as she took a few deep breaths before opening her mouth and surprising him with her words.
"Ingrid Frost is my aunt," she said rapidly, before continuing to shock him even more, "and my sister and I own thirty-three percent of the Foundation."
When she finished her speech, she suddenly found the need to study the carpet as he tried to wrap his head around what he had just learned. "You own part of that Foundation, yet you have been negotiating contracts against them? Isn't there some conflict in there?"
Her head came up slowly. "I believe in what we do here, but the properties involved in the NID projects are not owned by the Foundation, but by my aunt's real estate business that she started on her own. However, if I really thought there would be an issue, I would have Sydney handle those projects. I hope this isn't going to cause a problem."
He didn't think so, but he trusted her and Sydney to do what was necessary to make sure it wasn't. "So, your relationship with Ingrid explains the ease with which you work with her and were able to take care of contracts so quickly. But with the Westchester County project, there were permit issues, yet you worked magic there too. Shall I assume you have connections within the county offices?" he tossed out at her, not really expecting to get an affirmative answer.
"Well..." she grimaced as if what she was going to say annoyed her, "a cousin," she finally admitted.
"And this cousin is the reason behind the permit issues?" He asked as he tried to fit all the pieces together.
"Yes," she responded hesitantly.
His brow went up in surprise. "Care to elaborate?"
Her glance at the clock on the wall told him his answer before she opened her mouth. "Perhaps another time. I have a conference call in twenty minutes and I need to prepare." She gathered her things and walked toward the door. Just before she stepped through she tossed him a little wave and then disappeared from sight.
Liam sat there for a few minutes wondering about the whole encounter. He was left confused by his feelings regarding the interaction. Picking up his file to leave the room, he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror and what he saw confused him even more.
The man in the mirror was smiling.
New York City
Third week in August
Friday
Having just returned from a late lunch at The Odeon after standing up for Robin and Regina's nuptials, Elsa was feeling lethargic. But after running out of the office earlier in the day, she had promised herself she would return to finish up a few things before taking the weekend off to fly to Boston to see Anna. Kicking her shoes off, she opened the first file and was immediately immersed in her work.
The next time she looked up four hours had passed, and while her back and neck hurt from leaning over her desk, she could safely say her work was complete until Monday morning. With her files locked away and her briefcase packed, she slipped her shoes back on and left her office, taking, as usual, the long way out. Rarely did she actually see him when she left the building, but she always found herself looking. The answer as to why was something she hadn't been willing to give voice to yet, but with each passing day and every new encounter, the attraction she felt for him grew and would need to be dealt with soon. Just not today, she thought as she peered into his office suite, surprised when all was dark.
Her trip downtown to West Village where the penthouse apartment was located was relatively unremarkable for a Friday evening. Only a handful of vagrants asked for money, the subway was on time and when she even had a seat for the entire journey, she considered that a bonus. More to be happy for as she arrived at her building where the doorman greeted her by name, there was a postcard from Ruby and the elevator opened seemingly just for her. As it glided smoothly to the top floor, she envisioned yoga pants, a tank and no shoes, and so when the doors opened and all she heard was shouting, it was a fight not to stay in the elevator and ride back down.
Having not met any of her neighbors, her hopes of being able to sneak past the open door into her own apartment were dashed when she caught sight of the person who was doing most of the yelling. As if drawn by some invisible thread, her feet led her through the open door into a room that looked more like the showroom of a furniture store and not someone's living space. There were several sofas, two made of beautiful gray leather, the others navy with subtle stripes. There were also multiple chairs, none arranged but just pushed aside, their colors matching one set of sofas or the other, and there were bright, colorful pillows tossed all over the floor, and plants - lots and lots of plants, almost as if the apartment owner were turning his apartment into a greenhouse. And standing in the middle of the chaos facing off against a delivery man was none other than the very man who so intrigued her.
Liam hadn't noticed her yet, but boy, she had noticed him. With his bare chest and only lightweight sweats that rode low on his hips, she had to keep biting her tongue to keep her mouth closed. His chest was well defined and sexy, and the longer she gazed at him the more she wanted...almost needed to touch. Without conscious thought, she dropped her bags onto the floor and wound around the chairs, making her way to where Liam had cornered the delivery man.
Standing just behind Liam's left shoulder, she watched as he gestured with his hands causing the muscles to dance across his back. His skin was smooth and something inside of her wanted to run her fingertips down the center of his shoulder blades to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Tearing her gaze away from his body, she focused on the argument that hadn't slowed down any since she had arrived.
As she listened, she gathered that Liam had ordered the new furniture that had just been delivered, however the furniture that was delivered wasn't what he felt he had ordered. Instead of red sofas, he had gotten blue ones. Instead of blue chairs, he had gotten red ones and instead of blue pillows, he had gotten red and red and blue striped ones.
Realizing that the argument kept moving around in circles, she stepped forward and laid her hand on Liam's arm. He smelled musky and the urge to lean against him had to be shoved aside in lieu of more appropriate behavior. Liam stopped his argument mid-sentence and gazed down at her. She saw his nostrils flare and his eyes widen in shock before they softened and his entire body relaxed.
"Liam," she dropped her hand from his arm, "is there something I can do to help?"
"This buffoon," he pointed at the delivery guy, "delivered the wrong furniture, yet he claims he delivered what I ordered." He handed her the invoice that he had rolled up and had been shaking in the delivery man's face.
Elsa took the paperwork, and after unrolling it, read through the order. Once again, she laid her hand lightly on his arm. "Trust me?" she asked him softly.
Liam studied her face closely as if he were trying to read her mind, until finally he seemed to come to a conclusion. "Aye, I trust you."
His trust being given meant more to her than it probably should have and for a split second she felt like a traitor for feeling the way she did about the man who had given her friend such grief. But, she knew that Emma would want her to try to help the brothers reunite if possible. She also had gotten to know Liam and had heard all the gossip about his behavior at work. Based on what she had learned so far, the accident in May had not only changed Killian's life, but it seemed it might have been the catalyst that had pushed Liam to turn his life around. As far as she was concerned, this was positive and, as she had told Regina, she found him charming. And now, standing in front of him like this, darn if he didn't cause her heart to flutter. Reigning in her libido, she turned to the delivery man and led him toward the door. "I'll take it from here. Thank you. Do you need one of these?" She held up the papers.
He took the copy of the receipt he needed, and pulling his dolly with him, walked out into the hallway. Once he had crossed the threshhold, he turned back. "I'm glad you showed up when you did, Mrs. Jones. I wasn't having any luck with your stubborn husband."
Elsa shook her head, "Oh, he's not my husband. We're just colleagues."
"Uh huh," he said dubiously, "you have quite the touch with him to be just colleagues. Thanks again," he repeated as he disappeared into the elevator.
Taking a deep breath, Elsa shut the door behind her, locking herself and Liam inside. This way, if he yelled the rest of the floor wouldn't have to hear.
He was standing in the same position she had left him in, looking around at the furniture rather forlornly. "Liam," she said softly, as she walked closer, "why did you want to order two large red sofas, blue chairs and all this greenery?"
His hands on his hips, Liam studied the furniture some more. "I thought…" he whispered quietly, "I thought if I surrounded myself with color, it would make me feel alive. But it seems," he shook his head in disgust, "I even botched that."
He is so full of self-hate, she thought. No wonder his eyes are always so sad. She took the last few steps, stopping directly in front of him. Slowly, she lifted her hand to rest directly over his heart where she could feel its steady cadence. "You feel very much alive to me, Liam," she told him gently. "I can help with this room, if you'll allow me."
He studied her face, and then ever so slowly covered her hands with both of his. "You would do that for me?" He sounded surprised that someone had offered.
"I would," she repeated softly. Before she was tempted to knead his chest with her fingers, she dropped her hand, clasping her fingers together. "Let me run home and change and then I'll be right back." She gave him the invoice she had been holding and picked up the bags she had left by the door. By the time she had it open, he had recovered and wrapped his hand around her arm, stopping her from leaving.
He frowned. "Where's home, Elsa? I'd hate for you to go too far out of your way."
She grinned. "Oh, that's impossible since I live right next door." Her smile turned into a giggle at the stunned look on his face, and taking advantage of his distraction, she pulled her arm free. He was still staring in her direction when she glanced back just before she disappeared behind her door.
Portland, Maine
Fourth week in August
Monday
Killian helped Henry pack his belongings, and after loading the car they closed up the seaside cabin for the winter. Unsure when they would be able to return, they took a long walk along the beach, and before starting the drive to Boston they entered Fort Williams Park, where he parked next to the cliff. While Henry explored, he sat on the rock and stared out sea. As the waves hypnotized him with their rhythmic movements, Killian replayed the words of their promise over again.
Emma had whispered, "Today, with these beads, I thee wed for as long as this rock, this earth, this sea and the sky shall live. And I promise you that I will never forget these beads and our promise to each other and what they stand for. I love you Killian."
And as his heart expanded with all the love that he felt for her, he had stared into her eyes and promised her everything he had to give. "And I promise to always be there when you need me and to never, ever say goodbye to you. I love you Emma."
As he sat there staring out to sea the lyrics of one of the songs his parents had loved floated through his mind;
When I say always
I mean forever
I trust tomorrow as much as I trust today
I'm not afraid to say I love you,
And I promise you, I'll never say goodbye.
"I can't say goodbye, Swan," Killian whispered, letting the wind carry the words out to sea. "Perhaps once we are settled in New York, it will be time to find out why."
Two hours later they were back in Boston, and Killian dropped Henry off at the Home to spend the night so he could catch up with his friends and Sisters Blue, Green and Astrid and Marion. They were going to help him pack his room, and when Kilian arrived the next day to pick him up, they would leave for New York City.
Killian waved goodbye and drove to the apartment he had briefly shared with Emma, and like a thief in the night, snuck up the stairs, locking himself inside. Her scent still hung in the air and ghostly whispers could be heard as he undressed and climbed into bed. He needed her tonight, and these days the only place she came to him was in his dreams.
As he lay there, trying to settle his mind, once again the lyrics of the song I'll Never Say Goodbye drifted through his mind, except this time the need to hear it nearly consumed him. Without thinking twice, he rolled over, grabbed his phone and pulled up the song, setting it on repeat. Once the music started he had no difficulty drifting off to sleep, knowing that she would be there waiting for him.
And now time is going to slow down again as we move toward the end of the journey. Stay tuned for Chapter 21 and send positive thoughts to my muse. She's hearing too much static lately.