"He should have shot there."
Peggy squirmed against his side, dangerously close to the ribs that weren't broken, but just a little bruised and it had taken far more than it should have for Emma to agree to leaving her in the apartment that morning.
Three days after the fight and another overnight hospital visit, and Killian was still a little sore and a little black and blue and he had a press conference that afternoon.
They were calling it that.
Officially.
Or, whatever.
He'd only been kind of listening when Ruby told him the details and where he had to be and when he had to be there because it was slightly difficult to hear over the ringing in his ears.
The rest of the season.
And maybe longer.
His face hurt like hell.
And Emma hadn't said much in the last seventy-two hours, just quiet words and deft nods and she kept holding onto Peggy like some kind of stabilizing anchor against several thousand waves of overwhelming uncertainty.
That was way too dramatic. It would have been a good headline though. Maybe he'd mention that to the reporters at the press conference.
Ruby would hate that.
That might be, like, sixty-two percent of the reason he'd do it.
"Da, da, da, da, da," Peggy shouted, and Killian nearly dropped the tablet he was holding. They'd been watching film, dissecting plays that were, quite honestly, pretty bad because the Rangers had lost again on Monday and Killian refused to believe it had anything to do with the fight he'd started during the Rangers practice on Saturday, but Arthur had bumped Husinger to third line and the internet had, collectively, lost its mind.
He might have looked.
He might have done that before he and Peggy started watching film.
And she started muttering sounds that actually sounded like words.
Words that sounded a hell of a lot like a name for him.
"You trying to get my attention, little love?" Killian asked. A tiny fist collided with the front of his t-shirt, hardly enough to even register as much of anything, but he'd been sleeping like shit again and Emma kept pacing in the kitchen and, presumably, her office and Phillip's ceremony was tomorrow night.
So, really, Killian figured it almost made sense that getting punched in the metaphorical emotional gut by his daughter was more than enough reason for whatever was happening to his pulse and he wanted to talk to Emma.
They hadn't been avoiding each other – not really. They lived in the same apartment and slept in the same bed, but it felt like several walls and a few NHL-size hockey rinks between them and she still hadn't said anything about this job.
They hadn't said anything about what would happen if he didn't play again.
Or he couldn't play again.
"I wasn't trying to ignore you," Killian continued, staring at green eyes and hair that was almost alarmingly similar to his. Except the curls. She'd have exceptionally curly hair. "I was just..thinking, you know?"
Peggy twisted in his hold, toes colliding with a different ACE bandage that Emma had wrapped that morning because there's no point in not knowing how to do this and he might have fallen a little more in love with her again in that moment. Which was almost as absurd a thought as the whole waves thing from before, but Killian was, maybe, dealing with the end of a career and his wife was, admittedly, very stubborn.
And determined to make sure he didn't walk too much.
He loved her an absolutely ridiculous amount.
More than hockey.
He needed to tell her that.
He should have told her that already.
"Yeah, I know thinking's not as fun as the game, is it?" Killian asked, sliding a bit further down the couch and that actually helped him breathe easier. He wasn't sure how that happened, but he wasn't going to complain, Peggy tucked snug against his chest with her fingers gripping the front of his t-shirt. "Ok, see, watch this part."
He nodded towards the screen and Peggy's eyes moved, flashing to the replay and the team film he probably wasn't supposed to have because there was more than just the end of his career on the line.
Maybe.
There were probably more tests and another string of doctor's appointments, but Regina had never glared as intently as she had when she stalked into the hospital room on Saturday night and immediately cursed out every decision he'd ever made.
Killian deserved that.
He shouldn't have hit Husinger.
He kind of wanted to hit Husinger again.
Peggy made another noise, not quite a da but possibly a bit of a screech and Will checked the guy in Philadelphia especially hard. "That's not the part I was talking about," Killian muttered.
It took some finangling to rewind, but none of his ribs cracked in the process and that felt like a victory. The pillow under his back was helping.
He assumed.
"This," he said, free hand tracing over Peggy's back and she wasn't watching the game anymore. She was a baby. Her lack of attention span was understandable. "Here," Killian said, tapping lightly against a tiny t-shirt and she actually hummed in response. "You know you might be the smartest baby in the world. Don't tell your brother that."
She didn't respond.
Figured.
"Ok," Killian muttered, moving Peggy slightly until she was propped up against his bicep staring at the tablet resting against the back of the couch. "See...right….here."
Will was standing at the blue line, working point on a power play that looked like especially horrible garbage in the last two weeks, but Killian didn't really have a leg to stand on in that particular argument and he wasn't supposed to be watching film.
Robin sent it.
"Watch Phillip," Killian said, tapping his thumb against the white jersey standing in front of the net. Peggy gurgled. They needed to eat. "Ok, see, Pegs, he's trying to screen the goalie, right? But he's not getting his angles right. He's too close to the paint and he's making himself smaller. It's easy to see around him."
Peggy fidgeted, a knee in his side that didn't feel particularly pleasant, and maybe none of them had been sleeping. Eat and nap and, hopefully, show up for his own press conference at the right time.
"I know, it's incredibly frustrating," Killian grinned. He brushed his lips over the top of her hair, and he couldn't stop moving his hand, over her and tracing against team-branded merch and tiny limbs that were deceptively strong. He still hadn't seen her pull herself up or weeble around, but he lived in potentially misplaced hope and that should probably be the subhead to his personal life story.
He was on a roll.
The reporters at the presser wouldn't even have to do any work.
"Rook still hasn't quite figured out how to position himself there," Killian said, voice betraying him because that was his spot and his power play and his team and he was definitely the one who needed the nap. "But if he did, he would have been able to block the goalie from seeing that Robin was wide open. And he should have shot as soon as the puck landed on his stick. But our power play is incredibly bad now. So that didn't happen and we lost another game. And Arthur broke another whiteboard. See? Right here."
He hit the table again, pausing the stupid thing in the process and they both made a noise that was mostly just general frustration with the state of the entire world. "That's not what I was trying to do. You know that too, right?"
"Da, da, da, da, da," Peggy yelled, the sound echoing off the walls of the otherwise empty apartment and, possibly, Killian's brain and he didn't think before tossing the tablet on the table next to them.
"You're absolutely right. We don't need to watch anymore of that game. They all look terrible anyway, no one knows how to screen the goalie."
He knew he was babbling – talking about goalie screens and slap shots like it didn't physically pain him to even think any of those words, but Killian was drifting dangerously close to several metaphorical edges and the ends of a few other ropes and Peggy climbed back onto his chest without any prompting.
He wished Emma was there to see that.
He had no idea where his phone was. He should have taken a picture or something. God, he should have talked to Emma. Preferably before beating the shit out of Husinger.
He was absolutely going to get fined.
And he was absolutely convinced the only reason Regina hadn't stormed into the apartment and told him just that was because Robin had stopped her. And because he was scared she'd find out he was still sending Killian game film.
"Yeah, that's right," he mumbled, smiling to himself when Peggy burrowed against him. That felt oddly familiar too. "We'll sleep and then we'll eat, huh? And probably make Lucas really mad when we inevitably show up late to the presser."
"Da!"
"I know, sweetheart, I know. We won't think about the presser at all. Although," he added softly, fingers drifting over her back and her breath was warm even through his shirt. The pillow underneath him was actually pretty comfortable. That was probably a sign. He really hoped that was a sign. "You know, if we get to this presser a little earlier, we might be able to hang out with Mom. Or, at least, see Mom for a few minutes. That'd be kind of good, right?"
She didn't answer. She was thirteen months old. And well on her way to a mid-afternoon nap.
Killian's smile settled on his face easily, something calming what might have been several hurricanes and frayed ropes and he'd clearly lost his mind. He was going to have to tell Phillip how to screen a goddamn goalie.
"What if we got Mom some hot chocolate before we left?" Killian asked, speaking more to the air around him than his daughter because Peggy was absolutely asleep already. "Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea. We're going to do that."
He took a deep breath, sliding further down the couch and that was clearly what he was missing because the pillow moved with him, landing on some previously undiscovered section of incredibly sore body and Killian nearly laughed with how absurdly comfortable he was.
His fingers stilled on Peggy's back, palm flat against t-shirt and skin and his neck didn't entirely appreciate when he moved to kiss the top of her head, but his neck could, honestly, fuck off and he closed his eyes with the smile still on his face.
Killian didn't remember falling asleep, seemed to settle into the state almost too easily, which was probably another sign, but he'd had more than enough of those in the last two weeks, and he jerked up when the first knock came.
His neck didn't appreciate that either.
He hadn't been to PT in days. There was probably a whole new slate of things he wasn't allowed to do.
Killian blinked blearily, sleep lingering on the edge of his consciousness and Peggy stirred against him. "Shh, it's ok," he mumbled, but that was a battle he was never going to win. Her chin was shaking already. "No, no, no, c'mon, Pegs, we were doing good. We were sleeping. It's probably a very aggressive mailman."
That was the worst lie he'd told in the last two weeks and three days.
That was the worst lie he'd ever told.
They knocked again.
Killian sighed, but was drifting closer to a groan with every passing second – knocking coming quicker and more impatient and there might have been a few kicks in there as well. And possibly a shoulder or two. Maybe a hip.
Peggy started crying.
"We're going to murder all of them, huh?" Killian asked, staring at the baby clawing at his t-shirt. "And we really shouldn't be endorsing murder, should we? Not quite super dad, status is it?"
"KJ," Anna shouted from behind the door. His eyes closed again, frustration slinking down his spine and colliding with exhaustion and disappointment and a general sense of anxiety that had been at the crux of his state of being since he got hit in New Jersey. "We can hear you talking to the baby in there. You are not fooling anyone."
"You guys woke both me and that baby up, so you don't get to claim any conversational superiority."
"None of that made sense! And how do you know that there are more people out here than me? You do not have x-ray vision."
"That's true," he admitted, still sitting on the couch and trying to quiet Peggy was a lot more difficult when he was also screaming across the apartment. "But I don't think you have quite that many limbs either, Banana, so it'd probably be pretty difficult for you to hit the door that much on your own."
Anna didn't say anything. Killian grinned at Peggy. "Totally got her on that one," he mumbled.
"I heard that too," Anna yelled, kicking at the door and the laugh that came with it was decidedly deeper than her voice.
"That was actually pretty good," Will said, probably shrugging and Anna stopped kicking the door for a moment. She was kicking him in the shins. "God, shit, I am on your side in this argument, little Vankald, you can't attack your own teammates."
"Shut up, Scarlet. He wasn't supposed to know we were doing this."
Killian scoffed, some his frustration evolving into acceptance and it was really only a matter of time. He was getting tired of waiting for Regina's glares anyway. "How many of them do you think are out there?" he asked Peggy, slinging his legs back onto the floor and the tablet had turned itself off at some point.
He'd probably forgotten to charge it.
"We did call," Robin yelled. "Several times, in fact."
"Were you the one checking the door, Locksley? You're old, you shouldn't be doing that when you've got a game tomorrow night."
"Shut up, Cap. Where's you're phone?"
"I can't answer the question if I actually do shut up, you realize that, right?"
"Open the goddamn door."
"I mean, not with that attitude."
"KJ," Anna whined, a dull thud against the door that was most likely her entire body. Her kicks sounded a little lackadaisical. "You're making this really difficult."
"You woke us up, Banana," he argued. He stood up, despite the desire to tell however many of them were standing in the hallway to fuck off, and Peggy clung to his side when he moved across the living room.
Killian blinked when he opened the door, not entirely surprised to find them all there, but still a little overwhelmed by the whole lot of them – head to toe team apparel and they were probably blowing off walk-through and they were all going to go bankrupt from the fines.
Anna crossed her arms when Killian didn't immediately invite them in, likely documenting his distinct lack of manners so she could tattle on him to Mrs. Vankald like they were twelve years old again. Robin's eyes darted across him, checking for new bumps or bruises or contusions, as Regina glared with a power that could only be described as harrowing. Ariel was already tugging on the front of his shirt, clicking her tongue because it probably wasn't clean enough or was prone to irritating his skin and Killian swatted her hand when she didn't stop immediately.
Will chuckled under his breath, hooking his chin over Anna's shoulder and there was a phone in his hand, a flash of blonde hair and dark curls that were almost too similar to Peggy's to be entirely comfortable and they'd brought in reinforcements.
"Where's Lucas?" Killian asked, and he cursed when Anna kicked him in the ankle. "Banana, if you do that again, you will never be allowed in this apartment for the rest of your life. You understand? I don't care how much my kids like you."
Liam laughed in Colorado. "That's a real empty threat, little brother. Plus, Anna would absolutely steal your kids. She's a kid thief."
"Oh my God," Anna groaned. "That's not true. KJ, I'm not trying to steal your children. Jeez, Liam. That's mean. Honestly. That's what that is."
Elsa clicked her tongue, an ehhh that drew another laugh out of Will and maybe they could just stage the whole intervention in the hallway. It might end quicker that way. "You got something to add, El?" Will asked lightly, holding the phone up so Anna could scowl at it.
"I'm just saying," Elsa started, "Anna was kind of super into Lizzie and the twins too. She's baby obsessed."
"And," Ariel added. "She sent Dylan more gifts than, like, anyone else we knew. It was super nice, but it was a lot."
"Are you trying to tell me that I'm not super into your kids now?" Anna challenged, and Killian pressed his mouth into Peggy's shoulder so he wouldn't laugh too loud. "That's also rude. I'm the best aunt any of these kids could ask for."
"Eh," Will mumbled, yelping when Anna's toe collided with his shin again.
Ariel sounded like she was growling. "Can we not resort to violence? Please? I already have enough to worry about with Cap and the other asshole."
"Is that what we're officially calling him?" Robin asked.
"You not like that?"
He shrugged, and Killian muttered several words against the side of Peggy's head. She was starting to feel heavier than usual. "It's just not really all that creative," Robin said. "Feels too on the nose."
"Yeah, the next time you guys come up with tabloid-worthy nicknames for people, you should really get more creative," Killian murmured. He didn't lift his head up.
"Thin ice, Cap," Ariel warned. "Thin ice."
"That was even less clever."
Anna was still kicking at Will, and this whole thing was treading dangerously close to farce. He had hot chocolate to buy.
"Shit, little Vankald," Will gasped, jumping back from another attack. "Are you made of steel? You should be studied."
"I'm definitely the best fighter in this family, so I would consider your next words very carefully, Scarlet."
"I mean that's definitely true," Liam agreed. "You ever see Killian try and throw a right hook? It's embarrassing." He grinned when Anna's head whipped towards him, still scowling and a little annoyed and no one had answered Killian's question. They must have bribed the doorman.
"Liam offered to send the guy a signed puck," Robin explained, one side of his mouth tugging up. Killian's jaw dropped slightly. "Apparently the guy is a not-so-secret Jones brother aficionado and-"
"-His words too, Cap," Will added. "We're thinking about making him an official member of the group. We don't have an aficionado. Makes us sound more professional, don't you think?"
Killian tilted his head. Liam was hysterical. "What the hell does that even mean?"
"It means your doorman is obsessed with you," Regina answered easily, eyes darting away from the phone she'd pulled out at some point. "So you should probably get that checked out. He was very easy to bribe."
"You been bribing a lot of people recently, Gina?"
"We'll get to that part eventually."
"What does that mean?"
He didn't expect her to smile. It was disconcerting. He wished she'd glare some more. That was definitely why she smiled.
"That's point number six on the intervention schedule," she said. Killian's eyes bugged.
"How many points are there?"
"It's kind of a fluid thing," Anna shrugged. "We came up with ten to start with, but that's not set in stone or anything. We don't want to be locked into anything if things don't play out the way we think they're supposed to be playing out."
"Speak English, Banana."
She glowered, expression going dark which was almost strange to see, but at this point Killian was almost ready for anything and he knew the intervention was coming.
In surround sound. With a schedule. Of the fluid variety.
"It depends on how difficult you're going to be, KJ," Elsa added. "But Pegs is here and we weren't entirely counting on that, so I think now Scarlet has to take all the curse words out of his speech."
"You wrote a speech?" Killian asked.
Will shrugged. "More like a...proclamation. Of your previously mentioned stupidity."
"Yuh huh."
"I'll work around the curses, but I want it taken into account that I'm now speaking on the fly and cannot be held accountable for any scathing examinations of your character I decide to make in the moment."
"What he's saying is he should come with a parental advisory warning," Liam chipped in. "Although I did read it when they were coming back from Philly and some of it did tug at several different heart strings."
"Ah, shit, Liam, I sent you that in confidence."
"You sent Liam an e-mail on the bus?" Robin balked, and Killian was seriously debating closing the door on all of them. He'd call Elsa after to apologize. "How did I not notice that?"
"Is Locksley stealing your armrest now too?" Killian asked softly, and he wasn't sure who was laughing louder in Colorado.
"Nah," Will shook his head. "I was sitting with Rook and Locksley claimed a whole row to himself because he's old and needed to, quoting, stretch his legs."
Liam was definitely laughing louder.
"It's a two-hour bus ride, Locksley," Liam yelled, Elsa trying to quiet him and muttering about staying on track.
"Yeah, and I had to stretch out my calf because I took that puck to the back of my leg in the third when someone didn't get back on defense in time."
"I refused to accept the blame for that before and I refuse to accept it now," Will said. He was supporting most of Anna's weight now, her hair half over his shoulder and some of it brushing against his arm and they'd definitely blown off the walk-through.
"That's because you don't want to acknowledge that you shouldn't have been that high up in the zone. You're trying to score and that's not your game."
"He's got a point," Liam mumbled.
Will forced the phone into Anna's hand. "Well done, Liam," she sighed. "This was not part of any schedule for telling you you're the world's biggest idiot, KJ. Do not judge our schedule by whatever this has dissolved into."
"Oh I'm not," Killian promised, hitching up Peggy when one of her hands found the back of his hair. "I'm judging it for the rest of the shit you just said, but certainly not for its state of current dissolving or whatever."
"You don't understand enough science to make those kinds of jokes."
"I'll ask Mary Margaret after tomorrow's game."
"She teaches English, KJ," Elsa said.
Regina glared at all of them. And pushed by Killian to walk through the half-open doorway. She didn't stop walking until she almost ran into the coffee table and the dead tablet, arching an eyebrow when she turned back around.
Robin mumbled ah fuck under his breath.
"Maybe that will be point eleven on the conversation schedule," Regina said. "So are we going to do this or not?"
"If I tell you all to the get the hell out of my apartment is that going to make a difference?"
"Absolutely not. You planning on showing up to your presser late?"
"Absolutely not."
"Yeah, you're a terrible liar," Regina said, tapping the toe of her shoe impatiently. "And you're getting fined. Quite a bit, in fact."
Killian blinked – and he could almost feel the blood rushing out of his head, everything suddenly feeling far colder than it had a few minutes before. He licked his lips, breathing heavily with his mouth wide open and Peggy clearly did not appreciate how tightly he was holding her.
"Sorry, love," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the jut of her shoulder and the back of her head and he didn't let go of her.
Regina's eyebrow did not make sense at all.
"Ah, shit, Gina," Will groaned, kicking the door closed behind them and Anna was already trying to find drinks for everyone. "We were going to work up to that. We all agreed."
"How much thought went into this, exactly?" Killian asked.
"Probably a lot more than you're thinking."
"Why? And when did you start?"
Will laughed at the questions, a little disbelief mixing into the sound and that wasn't really fair. Killian knew why.
It was the same reason they'd tried to intervene before and why Anna showed up in New York and no one had told him about the Husinger story before it got published. Because it wasn't just a team, it was more and it had been for years and would continue to be no matter what happened next and Killian should have told Emma about the headaches.
He hadn't had a headache since the hospital.
Even after that asshole broke his face.
"You know why, Cap," Will muttered, perched on the arm of the couch. "We all would have lined up to hit that asshole. Willingly. No one said a word to him when he got bumped."
"That was only one of the questions."
"Ah, yeah-"
"-After Mary Margaret told Lucas that Emma had a difficult time standing up when Victor said you were done for the season," Robin interrupted, voice gruffer than it had been in years and Killian had to swallow before he could bring himself to turn and look at him.
He'd seen that look, exactly, once before.
It had been weeks at that point, and Killian hadn't moved an inch, sitting stock-still against the wall in his room, legs splayed out in front of him and a bandage around his hand that Mrs. Vankald had to change every morning.
He thought it was over then too, everything he'd ever worked for gone in a moment and an instance and he hadn't gone to her funeral. He couldn't go to her funeral. He couldn't get off the goddamn floor, sunlight streaming in through the window that Killian consistently found downright offensive.
And he hadn't even tried to hide the bottle in his hand when he heard the footsteps, certain, eventually, Mr. and Mrs. Vankald would just have enough and he'd lose that too and he'd always been a melodramatic asshole.
Robin hadn't said anything at first either, just stood in the doorway, staring straight ahead with a look that was equal parts pity and fury. Killian hadn't entirely understood it at the time, couldn't rationalize how one person could care that much, but the floorboards creaked when Robin walked into the room, yanking the bottle out of his hand and talking for sixteen minutes.
Straight.
He didn't stop. He didn't pause. He didn't let Killian get a single word in.
Not that Killian would have had much to say.
So Robin kept talking and making that face and Ariel must have been lurking in the stairwell, because she appeared out of seemingly nowhere promising I can fix this and this isn't the end and it wasn't.
No matter what Killian believed.
They wouldn't let it be.
God, now he was going to owe Ariel two life debts.
That was frustrating.
"Get your shit together, Cap," Robin said sharply, and Killian's knees bent like they'd been commanded too. He sunk into the corner of the couch, Peggy back on his chest and Anna curled against him and Ariel was biting her lip.
Regina was on her phone again.
"We agreed we'd work up to this, Locksley," Elsa mumbled, but Killian had no idea who was holding Will's phone now and it kind of sounded like he was being spoken to from several different clouds and Robin shook his head.
"Yeah, I know, but then he asked why and I'm kind of throwing the schedule out the window."
"It's too cold for that," Anna muttered. "Please don't actually open the windows."
"Metaphorically."
"Ah, well that's fine then."
Robin hummed, not taking his eyes away from Killian and he'd never been on trial, but it felt a bit like that and it had before and time was a circle or something.
"If you have something say, Locksley, you should probably just say it," Killian muttered. He ignored whatever his body was doing, every one of his muscles tight with tension and anxiety and it was too much, was far too much trouble and far too much pressure and Peggy was half standing on his right thigh.
"I've got several things I want to say," Robin growled. "But none of them are appropriate in front of other people and I really don't want to end up punching you."
Killian blinked. That hadn't happened when he hurt his hand.
"Damn, Robin," Anna muttered.
Robin crossed his arms, inhaling deeply enough that his shoulders shifted with the force of it and Killian didn't argue when Will pulled Peggy away from him. He wanted to. He wanted to scream and shout and go through his own schedule of all the reasons losing this game were absolutely terrifying, but losing everything else was absolutely worse and Robin hadn't even had to say anything.
That didn't stop him.
"You're a goddamn idiot, you know that?"
Killian nodded. "Yes."
"Wait, what?"
"Got you on that one, didn't I?"
"You don't get to be funny right now, Cap, I'm pissed at you. And worried. And mostly pissed. Because we've done this! We've had this conversation before and Ariel's agreed to a reenactment if you want, but I think that's also kind of dumb."
"Hey," Ariel snapped. "I only said I'd do it as a last resort. I really don't want to bother Mr. and Mrs. V."
"We're very responsible with our interventions," Will muttered, bobbing up and down and he might have been humming in Peggy's ear.
"Although Mom and Dad really wouldn't mind," Elsa reasoned. "They'd probably feed you all in the process."
"We are professionals, El. You think we're not capable of feeding ourselves?"
"I really doubt my mom would care, honestly. What year is that t-shirt you're wearing from?"
"That's not important."
Elsa laughed, a resounding judgment that probably resulted in several laws in Colorado. Killian glanced back at Robin, sleeves still bunched around his arms and his own judgements radiating off him. He lifted his eyebrows in challenge, waiting for the list of warranted complaints and opinions and-
"You've got kids, Cap," Robin said softly, and that had never been part of the pitch before. Anna might have gasped. That might have been Ariel. Or Elsa. Will was definitely singing under his breath. "One of which, while you were being a goddamn idiot and getting more tests and absolutely terrifying your wife, was trying to imitate your goal celebration outside a bagel place on 77th."
"Remind me to actually send that guy my stick," Will mumbled in between lyrics and faces and Peggy laughed while trying to wrap her fingers around the collar of his vaguely ancient t-shirt.
"I did that already," Regina promised. "He was very appreciative. He probably has twenty-thousand likes on several different social media platforms."
"Do you actually know how likes work, Gina?" Ariel asked, a smile on her face that felt decidedly out of place.
The pillow pressing into Killian's back wasn't quite as comfortable anymore.
Regina shrugged.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked sharply, and Will made a dismissive noise.
"Your kid's got one hell of a wrister. He totally wrecked that window."
"You wrecked the windows of a bagel place."
"Obviously, try and keep up, Cap. But the guy was a big fan and happy with the stick. Or the promise of a stick. I really don't remember signing that, Gina."
"Well, that seems like a you problem, doesn't it?" Regina asked, fingers flying over her phone. "Can we keep this moving though because I don't want to deal with the league fallout if Killian shows up to this presser late."
"Or the Ruby Lucas fallout," Ariel mumbled. Anna laughed.
"That too."
The room seemed to freeze, Anna's laugh lingering in the suddenly stale around them, and he could hear Elsa's quiet breathing over the phone. Killian waited three more seconds before he moved, sitting up straighter and rolling his shoulders and Robin didn't flinch when he met his gaze.
"You've got other opinions, Locksley?" Killian asked. "Or just elongated ones about my kids?"
"The kids are kind of the crux of it, actually."
"Don't let me stop you then."
"You weren't ever going to," he said, not an admission, but a promise and Killian wanted to practice his wrister. "You know Matt thinks you're the greatest person in the history of several different worlds and universes?"
"That was redundant, wasn't it?"
"Do not interrupt me, Cap. I swear to God I'll punch you right in your bruised ribs."
Ariel winced, but Robin was on a roll and Killian's eyes were going to permanently stay halfway up his forehead. "I get why you didn't say anything about the hit," he said. "You're you and you're a stubborn idiot and everything that happened with Liam is...ah, shit, sorry Liam, I almost forgot you were here."
"Don't apologize to me," Liam said, the connection shaky and he kind of sounded like a robot in Colorado. "Killian's a goddamn idiot. That's not something you mess around with."
"I'm sitting right here," Killian sighed. That was another battle he was never going to win.
Robin's lips twitched. "A fact we're well aware of, Cap. And one your kid is well aware of. And Emma. Especially Emma. You know how worried she's been about Casino Night? She forgot to get Mr. and Mrs. V tickets."
"Wait, what?"
"They're going to watch Matt and Pegs," Anna shrugged. "They honestly are not offended."
"And possibly celestial beings," Will added.
"Can I get back to my rampage, please?" Robin asked loudly, and Liam might have snickered. Elsa tried to turn her laugh into a cough.
"You're the one getting distracted," Killian pointed out. Robin's eyes narrowed.
"You've got kids, Cap. Kids who, despite what you may think, do not give a single, Scarlet cover Pegs ears or something." Will did as instructed, flashing a grin Killian's direction. He rolled his eyes. "They do not give a single fuck what you do on the ice right now," Robin continued. "Matt wants to be you because that's all he knows, but he'd think the same exact thing if you were a goddamn...I don't know, what's a ridiculous job?"
"Bank teller," Anna shouted.
"Oh, a dog walker," Ariel added.
"Museum curator," Elsa grinned. "But only on Museum Mile."
"He'd have to go crosstown to get there, though."
"Ah, yeah, that's true. It's so obnoxious to get cross town. God, imagine that commute in the morning. It'd be killer."
"Alright, that's more than enough," Robin muttered, and it sounded a bit like disciplining Henry and Roland and Killian bit his lip. "The point, Cap, is none of it matters."
Killian tilted his head, the argument practically bubbling out of him, but Robin didn't even let him open his mouth before he waved an impatient hand in his face. "God, you know that's not what I meant. Of course it matters. And we all want to win too. We want to win for Matt and you and this stupid city with its horrendous crosstown traffic. But you don't get to play with your own health in order to do that. You've got kids who idolize you and a teenager who, on Saturday night, tried really hard not to let either Gina or I realize that he was crying because he was so scared something had happened to you."
"What?" Killian rasped. His throat felt very dry. He kept blinking. Liam had walked out of the phone frame in Colorado.
God, Elsa was crying again.
Robin nodded. "We got back from the window incident and promising merch we had no right to give away. And Mary Margaret was talking to Ruby. That's how we found out about the hallway. I've never...Mary Margaret looked far too pale and Ruby kept shouting no comment in her phone and they told us. Rol overheard because he's clearly been taking supersonic hearing lessons from El and here we are."
"I resent that, Locksley," Elsa yelled, but her voice shook on its way across the country.
"I think that just means you're a superhero, El," Will reasoned.
"Oh, I'll take that then."
Killian's throat was still doing something impossible, and they hadn't even gotten to the fine part of the intervention. He held his arms out expectantly, not trusting himself to actually demand back his daughter, but they might have all been superheroes because Will moved immediately.
They all spent way too much time together.
"Mary Margaret looked pale?" he asked, Robin's nod barely that. It was closer to a grunt.
"She told Lucas it was bad. She's...she's worried about Emma because Emma is so goddamn worried about you. Constantly. And then you went and did this stupid thing and she's forgetting tickets and feeling guilty and-"
"-None of this is her fault."
"You tell her that?"
Killian didn't answer. That was an answer.
"That's the worst thing you've done yet, Cap," Robin sighed, rocking back on his heels. "And I know how much your fine is for."
"We ever going to talk about that? Because I really don't want Lucas to yell at me for being late to this presser."
"Yeah, yeah, we'll get there, but I've got one more point to make." He took a deep breath, huffing it out like he'd been waiting for this moment or practicing for it, and Liam was pacing behind the couch in Colorado. Elsa had crossed her legs, elbows digging into her knees with her chin in her hands and Anna was identical a few inches away from Killian.
Will was back on the arm of the couch, Ariel's head resting on the side of his thigh and tears obvious in her eyes.
And Killian was the world's biggest idiot.
"It matters, Cap," Robin said. "All of it. The career and the control and it's been your team for years. We tried to tell you that wouldn't change and it might have been a lie. Or, at least, wishful thinking. We can't stop this guy or his ridiculously quick passes and Rook's shit at trying to screen the goalie."
Will coughed pointedly, and Robin rolled his eyes. "That's not the point," he continued. "The point is we get it. We wouldn't want to walk either, but this is your life, Cap and it's pretty fucking great. Even without the game. You've got people you've got to think about. People who...write e-mails to Liam because they don't want to scandalize your delicate sensibilities with unplanned speeches-"
"-Oh my God," Will grumbled. Ariel muttered several promises that it's fine, Scarlet under her breath.
"Anyway," Robin said pointedly. "This isn't just about you, Cap. It might have been the last time, but this is...you've kids and a family and people who would beat up any asshole replacement without you even having to ask. And if you don't show up in Emma's office at some point before Casino Night promising several different worlds, I'll tell Arthur he should suspend you for the entire first month of next season."
"Seconded," Anna and Will said at the same time.
Killian lifted his eyebrows even more. "You don't know it'll be next season."
"Please," Robin scoffed. "Yes, I do. And I think you do too. You know who doesn't? Emma."
"It was bad, Cap," Ariel whispered, tears on her cheeks and a quiver in her voice. "Victor said it might not...next season wasn't certain and it was like...I don't know. I could see it. She'd been trying to keep it together with Mattie and us and then it was like it all clicked and she was…"
"Terrified," Will finished harshly. "She's been terrified, Killian."
He swallowed, his own name sounding impossibly loud when it echoed between his ears. "A one-woman Emma Swan protection squad."
"I heard about A's zamboni-murder threat, Cap. I could support that."
"The name thing didn't last long."
"Yeah, it felt weird saying it, honestly."
Killian hummed, arms wrapped almost possessively around the baby in his arms and the whole thing was a goddamn disaster. He might have been a goddamn disaster.
He still had to answer questions.
Lots of questions.
"How big is the fine, Gina?" Killian asked, and if this were a normal conversation he would have appreciated her slight jump when he turned towards her.
"Not great."
"That's not specific."
"Not great," she repeated. "If you weren't broken, you'd be suspended for two games. At least."
"Husinger wasn't."
Regina glared at him. "That's because you started punching him. There was video. The league's already hiding from reporters wanting to know how no one caught your concussion before you passed on the ice. Remember when you passed out on the ice?"
"Yes, Gina, I was there."
"I just wanted to make sure you remembered that it happened. When you passed out on the ice. On national TV. And Husinger got fined. Which is a blow to a kid still working on his AHL deal."
"But no suspension?"
"No," Regina said. "Because, as I said, you punched him first. So the league opted to leave it up to front office and front office desperately wants to win. No suspension. A stern talking to, a piece of duct tape over his mouth when it comes to the media, and that's it."
Killian nodded, another string of words getting caught in his throat and the guilt in his stomach was decidedly uncomfortable.
"You ever go out on your date?" Liam asked pointedly, ignoring both Elsa and Anna when they checked their tongues simultaneously. It sounded like Mrs. Vankald.
Killian didn't mention that either.
"That's a no, leader," Will answered, standing back up and taking Peggy out of Killian's arms. "And you're going to be late, Cap. You think he should put on a tie, Gina?"
Regina shook her head. "Team-branded."
"Yeah, yeah, that makes more sense."
"Can I have my kid back now?" Killian asked, but the entire room rolled its eyes in response and that was almost impressive.
"Did we not mention that?" Anna asked. He shook his head. "We're taking her."
"Phrase that differently, Anna," Elsa mumbled.
Killian stuffed his hands in his pockets. "So the kidnapping threat was real, huh?"
"No, no," Anna promised. "Well...no, this is not kidnapping. You can't bring a baby to a presser with you, KJ. So Scarlet and I are taking her and we'll go pick up Matt and then we're going to do something educational."
"It's the library, Cap," Will added. "We're going to meet Belle at the library."
Anna nodded, grinning like that settled that. It did. "Go get changed, KJ. Ruby will rip you apart if you mess up her presser."
He did not, in fact, mess up the presser.
He showed up five minutes early, grinning at Ruby's slightly stunned expression and stood at the podium and answered the questions and he was sure every single reporter gasped when he answered honestly.
Completely and totally.
The internet was going to lose its mind.
Again.
"How was that Lucas?" Killian asked, directing her out of the media room at the Garden and back towards a hallway he'd absolutely made out in before.
She shook her head slowly, something that felt like disbelief and awe rolling off her and Killian felt more normal than he had in months. "I can't believe you did that, Cap," she breathed.
"Can you not?"
"Ah, I mean, I guess, but that's…" Ruby exhaled, blinking and tugging her lips back behind her teeth. "Did she tell you about the job yet?"
"Yeah. She deserves that."
"Of course she does. I'm not disagreeing with that, but that's…"
"You've got to finish a sentence, Lucas."
"Why would I do that when you're suddenly so good at making proclamations on the record."
Killian chuckled, resting his hands on her shoulders and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Professional," he muttered. "And it wasn't a proclamation. It was an answer. A real one. And Emma should be able to do whatever she wants. She'd make hockey the most popular sport in the entire goddamn world."
"Not disagreeing with that either."
"You've got to make your point then, Lucas, because…"
He trailed off, eyes flitting towards the end of the hallway like Emma would suddenly appear there and he hadn't been sure what her afternoon was like, was certain there were more meetings and probably placating Aurora for something, but he kind of hoped and he'd answered all the questions anyway.
"Take some of your own advice, Cap," Ruby suggested, rapping her knuckles against his chest. "And go upstairs. Like two seconds ago."
He resisted the urge to salute, squeezing her shoulders and winking horribly enough that her laugh hung in the air when he jogged down the hallway.
And it might have been the longest elevator ride of Killian's life, tapping an impatient rhythm on his thigh as he waited for the ding and the right floor and he flat out ran down the next hallway he was presented with.
She was sitting on the floor.
It was almost difficult to see her over all the stacks of paper around her, but he saw her hair, tugged up in a ponytail, but she'd missed one piece, a strand clinging to her neck like it was there specifically to taunt him.
David was a few feet away from her, leaning back on his hands with a smile on his face and his phone thrown haphazardly between them.
They were talking, but the words didn't entirely register and it was a miracle he stayed upright.
Killian froze, half a foot over the threshold and mouth hanging open and he never really forgot he loved her, but sometimes he'd glance at Emma or watch her try and explain offsides to Matt or blow raspberries on Peggy's cheek and it was like everything realigned and focused and it was difficult to remember a world that she wasn't at center of.
Emma wiped her thumb under her eye.
And that did it.
"Swan," he said softly, Emma's body twisting quickly and she almost knocked over a stack of papers. His smile felt far too nervous, but it was there and her eyes were slightly red and maybe it was time to stage his own intervention.
"Hey," she muttered. "You're...I thought you'd still be downstairs."
"I wanted to be here before the presser, but, uh, some stuff happened and I'm-"
"-Here now."
Killian nodded. "You have a couple minutes to talk, Swan?"