Thank you so much to everyone for giving this story a chance. Thanks for your kudos, likes, reblogs and for your comments, they mean the world to me.
I'd like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta, Amy. I'm aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.
Go visit Kate's blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter is dedicated to The Nolans, who will play a relevant role on this occasion. Kate has managed to perfectly capture the emotions that will accompany us next. The photoset also serves for the next chapter.
Sara, thank you for everything.
What to expect from this chapter? The angst is not over yet (in fact it has just started) We will finally know the truth about The Nolans and how Killian will react when he finds out about his friends' secret and its implications. This chapter is also one of the reasons why I love the David of this story, despite everything... Also, since someone asked me about ages, David is 46, Mary Margaret 45, Killian 32 (Liam was 8 years older) and Emma is 28 in the present.
CHAPTER 6
David Nolan. Storybrooke. Twenty-eight years ago
David was so damn tired that he could almost fall asleep right there in the middle of the hospital cafeteria. He let out a long sigh as he ran his hand through his hair and took a sip of his coffee, letting the hot, bitter liquid enter his system in an attempt to stay awake.
The last three days had been exhausting. Since he had received the news that his mother had fallen ill and had been transferred to Storybrooke hospital he had barely had a moment of calm. He'd had to pack a few belongings while taking the only available flight, in which he had to invest what few savings he had obtained in the last year working in an animal shelter near the college campus.
And now here he was, three days later, with a hopeless diagnosis for his mother, while his whole world threatened to fall apart around him. He would not go back to college, at least not for the moment. Maybe he would have to request a transfer to a nearby university, or even stop studying at all, since he did not even want to imagine what they would have to pay to give his mother the best possible treatment.
Maybe his departure had been doomed from the start, he thought as he leaned against the back of his seat, a tug of bitterness settling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he should never have left in the first place. Not when the decision to begin his dream of becoming a journalist had meant separation from his girlfriend and that he had nearly lost his mother, the only family he had.
The return to Storybrooke was not only threatening his future, but it had brought back painful memories, as if this whole situation was nothing more than a wake-up call, a reminder that, however much he tried to escape his destiny, it always would bring him back to the place to which he supposedly belonged.
A chill ran through his body as he remembered Mary Margaret. She had been the person who had encouraged him the most to start his dream, promising that she would join him as soon as she finished her studies in high school. He had made the decision at the last minute, hesitating until the end, since it broke his heart to leave Mary Margaret alone with her awful stepmother. "It will only be a year," she had affirmed with determination. "I can handle both Cora and Regina. Don't worry about me and go fulfill your dream, David."
And everything had gone well at first, they had talked on the phone and exchanged letters, he had even returned to Storybrooke on a couple of occasions on specific dates, the last one having been his mother's birthday. Something had happened after that, he thought bitterly, since Mary Margaret had cut off all communication with him, not answering his phone calls and never writing him back.
He had tried to contact her by all possible means. Even during the summer break, only a few months ago, he had returned home with the intention of finding her. He understood, really, they had been only children discovering the first love, playing at being adults while a bright future awaited them. But it seemed that the separation had weighed too much and their future together no longer seemed an option. He just needed an explanation, something that would allow him to move on with his life and not keep him stuck by uncertainty.
Finally, he had discovered that Mary Margaret had left high school momentarily and had moved to the house her stepmother had in a nearby town. All his attempts to contact her were unsuccessful, all he had gotten was a brief phone call in which she asked him not to look for her, that she was fine but that she did not want to see him, leaving him heartbroken on his return to college.
Two months later, he was here again, wondering if she would still be living in the nearby town or have returned to Storybrooke. Maybe it was not too late yet, he told himself, maybe now that he seemed like he would have no choice but to stay here, they could have a second chance.
David looked at his watch realizing that he had been gone too long and his mother might need him, so he got up, gently stretching his numb muscles, so abused by the awful contraption they called a couch. Just as he started walking towards the exit, something, or rather someone, caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.
His heart skipped a beat as all his internal alarms jumped when he spotted Regina, Mary Margaret's stepsister, sitting at the bar in the cafeteria. A million thoughts crossed his mind, imagining any possible scenario that would have led the vain Regina to be there, in a hospital cafeteria drinking cheap coffee. All his thoughts ended in one person - Mary Margaret.
Something clouded his reason at that moment, when, impulsively, he decided to approach her, looking for answers. Maybe Regina was not to blame for Mary Margaret's fate, since she too had been under the yoke of her own mother, but he had known her well over the years and knew that she and Mary Margaret never got along and their relationship became even more distant when Mary Margaret's father had divorced Regina's mother.
To his satisfaction, Regina's normally impassive face showed surprise at seeing him. Her eyes widened slightly, as the flash of something like fear crossed her gaze. She recovered quickly, though, schooling her features to show her usual coldness. "What are you doing here?" She asked with a faint tone of disdain as she crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant manner.
She could have intimidated him in the past, but he was not that little boy anymore. Maybe he was only eighteen, but the events of the last days had ended up taking their toll on him. "What are you doing here?" He counterattacked, ignoring her question, his hands on both sides curled into fists.
"It's none of your business." She replied in a dismissive tone. This time, despite her sharp comment, a shadow of trepidation crossed her face, causing the worry to crawl up his stomach, tightening it into knots, as he felt like a bad omen was hovering over him.
"It's about Mary Margaret, isn't it? Is she here? What's wrong with her?" He snapped, glaring at her, his tone perhaps too threatening to the point of causing the usually imperturbable Regina to flinch a bit.
"You're here for your mother, right? I've heard she's sick, you better go take care of her, David." Her features softened a bit, but even so, she stood her ground, without even giving him a clue, making his frustration worse.
"Fine, I'll go find her." He turned around without bothering to wait for a possible reply, hurrying to get out of there and wondering what the next step should be.
He did not go far, though. "She's here, but she's fine." He stopped without turning, but listening intently, his entire body tense. "She's here because she gave birth two days ago." The moment Regina's words reached his ears and his brain processed them, he felt his heart fall to his feet and all the air left his lungs, making it difficult to breathe.
He turned slowly as he squeezed his brain in an attempt to make the necessary mental calculations. The memory of one night, nine months ago, when they said goodbye after his brief visit due to his mother's birthday came to his mind, hitting him hard.
"I've become a father." He muttered, while he was still shocked by the news, unable to process it correctly.
"I'm afraid not." This time, Regina's voice came with a tone of some sympathy, her expression somewhat contrite. "There's a blank space in the biological father section of the baby's birth certificate, David. Besides..." She paused for a moment, averting her gaze. "...I'm sorry. She has already been adopted."
"No..." A sinking feeling took hold of him, as he felt his knees weakening to the point that he had to grab onto a nearby chair to avoid falling. His head began to spin, making it impossible to process such amount of information and mixed feelings in such a short space of time.
"This is your mother's fault, isn't it? She may have manipulated her in a way as to push her to give up her own baby." He reproached her weakly, all his strength and determination had left him, leaving in their place a sense of defeat and helplessness difficult to bear.
"You may not see it that way now, but Mary Margaret has made the best decision. Think about it, David. What future could you give to that baby? Mary Margaret is just a girl and even you, with all that bravado, you're not more than a child still, with the responsibility of taking care of your sick mother. You have nothing to offer that baby. Doesn't she deserve her best chance?"
Regina's words, accompanied by her expression, were almost convincing as if she really believed what she was saying. Probably because being a twenty years old young woman meant that she had a promising future ahead of her. But he suspected that Cora's machinations were behind that learned speech. She might even have used the same reasons to convince and manipulate Mary Margaret.
He felt like a lost child, in the middle of a cafe full of strangers, his whole body longing to run to take refuge in the arms of his mother. That was not an option anymore, not when she was still recovering.
But maybe he could still help Mary Margaret get through this bad time; maybe they could comfort each other. David shook his head, pressing his lips together and giving Regina one last look of resignation. To her credit, she looked away immediately, while he could almost detect a shadow of shame in her eyes.
David turned around and began to wander the corridors of the hospital aimlessly, totally lost in his thoughts, unable to process what had happened in that short time. He had become a father in one second, and in the next one, that possibility had been ripped away, without giving him time to understand the implications.
Maybe it was instinct, maybe destiny - whatever it was, without hardly intending it, he ended up in the maternity section of the hospital. He looked around the numerous doors that appeared along the corridor, wondering behind which one Mary Margaret would be.
Only then did he realize something he had overlooked in his conversation with Regina. She had referred to the baby as her. A girl. His daughter, snatched from his arms without even having the chance to meet her. His knees weakened further to the point that he had to sit in one of the chairs along the corridor as he squeezed his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks.
His inner turmoil was such that he felt he was going to get physically sick at any moment, the full weight of loneliness falling on him, while guilt, shame and despair, dug a deep hole in his heart.
He took a shuddering breath, while resting his head against the wall, making an attempt to pull himself together. He remained in that pose, his heart hammering in his chest, for what seemed like hours, though probably only a few minutes had passed.
Suddenly a sound reached his ears, causing his whole body to become tense. The crying of a baby. An idea jumped into his mind as his brain began to run at full speed. His daughter had been born two days ago, which meant that she might still be in the hospital. His gaze began to travel frantically to one side of the corridor to another, while looking for something, any hint that could lead him to know the whereabouts of the baby.
David almost uttered a triumphant shout as his gaze fell on a sign that indicated the direction of the newborn nursery. Without thinking twice he ran off in that direction, while a faint flame of hope ignited in his heart.
He only slowed down when he saw the room and its large windows, the only separation between him and his daughter. Without even realizing it, he was there, his forehead pressed against the window as his gaze traveled across the room. There were only three cribs occupied in the middle of a sea of empty cribs. His eyes then fell on the only crib with a pink symbol — the other two had it blue. It was at that moment when he knew with absolute certainty that he had found his daughter.
He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to absorb the image in front of him - a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket sleeping peacefully and a glimpse of her angelic face. His forehead pressed even more against the glass, along with the palms of both hands as if with that action he had the ability to fuse with the glass or cross it, removing the barrier that prevented him from holding his daughter.
Out of the corner of his eye, he detected some movement inside the nursery. His heart dropped to his feet when he saw how a nurse approached his daughter's crib and picked her up, disappearing with her through a side door. He looked around, not knowing what to do next, hopelessness overtaking him. He was not prepared to say goodbye to his daughter. Not yet.
A few minutes later, the same nurse appeared through one of the doors that led to the hall where he was standing, still holding the baby in her arms, stepping steadily towards the waiting room.
"Wait!" David almost shouted as he ran to catch up with the nurse.
To his relief, the woman stopped and turned, her brows drawn together in confusion. "How can I help you?" she asked in a gentle voice, but with a hint of caution.
"I... I think I'm her father." He muttered, pointing at the baby, while his heart clenched in his chest at the sound of the word uttered by his own, broken voice.
David realized that he had made a mistake the moment the words slipped through his mouth. The nurse gave him a cautious look, while she pulled the baby toward her in a protective manner. "I'm afraid you're wrong." She mumbled and began to turn around without giving him a chance to reply.
He didn't give up, though. "Please... I'm not pretending ...I know her adoptive parents are waiting for her, I get it. I just want to see her, just one last time, please." His voice sounded almost like a plea, while he felt a sting behind his eyes, tears threatening to fall again, but at that moment he couldn't care less.
The nurse seemed hesitant for a few seconds, her gaze traveling from him to the baby in her arms and then to the hallway, which, surprisingly, was empty at the time. But his words must have had the desired effect since she finally took pity on him. "Just for a second." She whispered, while unwrapping a little the blanket that covered the baby, showing her tiny face.
This time David could not help the tears falling freely, soaking his cheeks, as he approached the nurse with hesitant steps. And there she was, his daughter, his little baby girl, so small and at the same time so perfect. He had to suppress the impulse to snatch her from the hands of the nurse and never let her go. Even with his mind clouded by shock and his adolescent impulsiveness, he was aware that this movement would have brought nothing but difficulties.
A new sensation blossomed in his heart and spread throughout his body. Love was powerful, no doubt. He might only have known that little person's existence for just a few minutes and he would have to say goodbye to her forever in just a few seconds. But there was an absolute certainty in all this and that was his utter, pure and infinite love for her.
His entire body tingled with the desire to feel the warmth of her little body. Sadly, he had to settle for caressing his tiny face and hand, trying to convey with that little touch all the devotion he already felt for his little girl. Just then, the baby opened her eyes, giving him a look through her eyes with a mixture of blue and green, while her tiny hand wrapped his index finger with unusual force. His lips drew an involuntary smile in the sea of tears that ran down his cheeks, while a sound, half laughter, half sob escaped from his mouth. He tried to retain this moment in his memory and make it eternal.
"Sorry, we have to leave." The nurse's voice broke the spell, as she gave him an apologetic look.
He ignored her for a moment, still reluctant to let her go so soon as he leaned over and gave her a tender kiss on her forehead and then whispered, "Have a good life, sweetheart."
Concluding the moment, the nurse wrapped the baby again in her blanket protectively and, after giving him one last look, she began to turn towards the waiting room. Something caught his attention at the last moment, before his daughter disappeared completely from his sight. A name embroidered on the blanket with purple letters. Emma.
David Nolan. Storybrooke - December 5, 2017
David was exhausted after a long day of work that Tuesday. Sometimes he wondered how a town as small as Storybrooke could generate so much news to keep him in the office until late afternoon. But luckily it was over. On the way home, he shot a quick message to Mary Margaret to inform her that he would take care of dinner tonight.
That was the reason why he had ended up at Granny's, looking for some takeaway food. While waiting at the counter, his gaze wandered around the room, stopping immediately as his eyes fell on her, his daughter.
His heart skipped a beat when he realized that she was smiling, a bright smile with the ability to light up the whole place. A smile with a specific receiver - his friend Killian.
The corners of his lips also moved upward as a warm sensation spread to his heart, since the smile drawn on Emma's face implied calm, comfort and even a hint of happiness. And the fact that, in one way or another, Killian was the architect of it made him feel proud and also relieved, because, regardless of those demons that still stalked his friend, he seemed to have found a small haven of peace.
Or at least that's what David expected since he could not see Killian's features, because he sat with his back to him. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed to be related to photography. Emma looked from time to time at the camera screen in front of her while she shared words with Killian. It seemed to be a relaxed conversation, and, at least on Emma's part, it was as if there were no one else around, just the camera and Killian.
His brow furrowed slightly as he wondered why Killian had not told him anything about these encounters. An idea popped into his mind at that very moment, causing his smile to widen and his heart to swell with pride. Could it be that Emma was the hidden talent that Killian always tried to look for in his courses?
He made a mental note to ask Killian when he saw him this Thursday, at the dinner he had agreed to attend and that would allow them to have that deep conversation after their confrontation last Saturday. Since that day, nerves had seized his stomach and had barely left him a moment of rest, as he feared how his friend would react, especially now that it seemed clear that there was a kind of bond between him and Emma.
He let out a sigh while burying those thoughts at least until the inevitable moment arrived. Once the food was ready, he paid as he nodded at the waitress and headed for the exit.
Before opening the door, he cast one last glance at Emma, who looked at him at that moment. It was then that she offered him a warm smile from the distance, causing his heart to melt a little bit in the process. He smiled back, and was about to leave when he noticed that Emma made a comment to Killian, pointing to him.
His friend turned around instantly, looking for him. Once their eyes met, Killian sent him a smile as he waved his hand. David raised the arm that held the bag with the food and then made a gesture with his free hand indicating that he would call him. After one last look at the two most important people in his life along with Mary Margaret, he finally left the premises.
The nerves had not disappeared despite seeing his friend relaxed, but at least they had given him some peace of mind — and hope —to face what could be a turning point in his life.
After almost five months living in Storybrooke, their encounters with Emma had been brief in time and widely spaced, since he had refused to let Regina introduce them. But keeping distance was no longer an option, not when their only wish was to keep their daughter close and start generating new memories as a whole family.
They were not ready to confess to Emma, not when they were aware of her past life full of misfortunes and her tendency to run away from problems or when she felt threatened. They could not risk destroying the life she had gained by returning to Storybrooke, but maybe there was some way to relate to her without having to uncover their secrets. And maybe Killian could play an important role in this scenario. The question was, would Killian be willing to help them? There was only one way to find out.
Killian Jones. Storybrooke - December 7, 2017
The aroma of his favorite dish, roasted sea bass, reached Killian's nostrils even before the door of the Nolans' apartment opened. He could not help the corners of his lips rising slightly in appreciation for Mary Margaret's detail, who proved, once again, to know his preferences well. It's always better to have a deep conversation after having enjoyed a delicious meal, he said to himself in an attempt to gain the necessary strength to face what was to come.
This time it was David who received him, a frank smile on his face and a certain tension on his shoulders. "We gave you a spare key for you to use, not to serve as an ornament on your keychain, you know." David commented without losing his smile as he stepped aside to let him in.
"I know, I know, but I still prefer to knock on the door. I wouldn't like to interrupt in case you are involved in any... compromising activities." He grinned at him, arching an eyebrow in a naughty way and then going in search of Mary Margaret without waiting for an answer.
"You're so gross sometimes..." David scolded, but it was evident from his tone of voice that he was still smiling.
As he walked down the hall, Killian thought that this familiarity was something he would not want to lose for anything in the world. Maybe his friends did not trust him completely to confide their secrets —although he was still awaiting an explanation, which he suspected would not be long in coming— but these small exchanges were not only on one side. That was friendship, wasn't that? Giving and receiving even with small gestures. And if the only thing he could contribute to his friends were photographs and putting a smile on their faces from time to time, so be it. Although, in reality, he came to dinner determined not to hide behind his demons anymore, to show them that they could trust him.
Mary Margaret also received him with a warm smile while she finished the preparations for dinner, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen and her eyes illuminated with that brightness that always characterized her. Maybe his relationship with David was closer, but she was much more than his friend's wife. He felt her almost like an older sister, or something else, someone to turn to for comfort or advice.
"Mmm, that smells delicious, Ms. There's no doubt that you know how to get to a man's heart." Killian flattered as he kissed her on the cheek.
She rolled her eyes as her smile widened. "Less compliments and more collaborate. I don't want the dinner to cool down." Then she put a stack of plates in his hands and pushed him gently in the direction of the dining room. "By the way, I'm glad to see you in a good mood, Killian, really." He heard her say while he walked, pulling a smile from his lips along the way.
They had a relaxed conversation throughout the dinner while enjoying good company and delicious food. Killian felt at peace with himself for the first time in a long time, as if he were recalling the old days, those early years in London with the four of them together. Little could they have imagined that those dinners had an expiration date and dark clouds approached threateningly to truncate their happiness. Liam's absence was evident, and there would always be an empty space on the table, both physically and emotionally. Now he just needed to learn to live with that emptiness, following Emma's advice.
Since Mary Margaret had been the one to prepare dinner, he and David took care of clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen before returning to the living room, where she was waiting for them. David sat on the couch, next to his wife, while Killian sat on the loveseat perpendicular to the sofa. As he settled in, he took a deep breath, in an attempt to stay strong to face what was to come.
"Does anyone want a drink, rum, or something?" David offered, as he stood up again in the direction of the cabinet where they kept the drinks.
"I'm fine, thanks, mate." Killian politely refused, unwilling, after his last experience, to fall back into the habit of drinking to muffle or hide his feelings. He did not miss the look of appreciation Mary Margaret gave him, to which he responded with a tiny smile.
"I may need a drink." David mumbled almost to himself visibly nervous as he prepared his drink and headed back to his seat.
All the previous calm was suddenly replaced by an awkward silence, while David and Mary Margaret gave each other sidelong glances, as if instigating each other to start talking. Killian inhaled deeply, letting out the air slowly and decided to get ahead of his friends, in an attempt to smooth the way.
"I'd like to apologize for my rude behavior the other day." His friends looked at him in an instant, David nodding faintly and Mary Margaret offering a small smile. "I was going through a tough time, but that's not an excuse, and neither is hiding in alcohol or locking myself in my apartment, so I'm going to try hard to correct that from now on."
Mary Margaret reached out and gave him an affectionate squeeze on his forearm. "It's okay, Killian, we are aware of what you have gone through and our intention has never been to make it worse, but to help you." She said softly.
He was aware of that, although sometimes it was hard for him to accept it. Even so, he still had more to say. "I also understand that you haven't trusted me for support from your own demons. I was a complete mess, I got it."
He swallowed before continuing, an overwhelming sensation settled in his stomach. David opened his mouth then to intervene, but Killian raised his hand to stop him. "Let me finish, mate. I'll never be able to thank you enough for everything you have done for me and especially for this opportunity of a fresh start you have given me. I was about to throw it all away the other day, but that will not happen again." His gaze traveled from David to Mary Margaret trying to convey with his eyes the determination imprinted on his voice. "I'm going to work from now on to regain your confidence in me, so here I am, guys, for whatever you need." He extended both arms to emphasize his words, hoping he would have been convincing enough for them to blindly trust his words.
A wave of affection towards his friends washed over him as he checked their reaction. Mary Margaret's eyes filled with tears as she intensified the squeeze on his forearm. David instead, after giving him a brief and intense look, turned his gaze away, while he remained pensive for a few seconds. From his position on the edge of the couch, Killian could tell that he was still tense, his fingers absently sliding over the rim of his glass. "I... we... it may be time to take you up on that offer." David looked back into his eyes, a shadow mixed with what looked like guilt and pain, crossing his face.
"Yeah, we may need your help." Mary Margaret's voice came in a tentative rustle, the corners of her lips moving slightly upward.
The relief Killian felt at hearing their words was immense. It was as if suddenly, he had removed an oppressive weight that prevented him from breathing normally. Now he felt lighter, willing to do anything to make him feel useful to his friends. "Whatever you need, just say the word." He assured.
"It'd be better if we give you the background." David continued, as he exchanged a meaningful look with his wife and nodded almost imperceptibly. Then his eyes met his. "We... we're parents - or we were. I was at least for a split second. I'm not sure anymore how to catalog us, honestly."
His smile disappeared from his lips as his eyebrows went together in confusion, not quite sure that he had heard correctly. "What?" It was the only thing he was able to say before his throat closed. We were parents. What the hell did that mean? Suddenly, those horrible thoughts that crossed his mind while talking to Emma the other day returned with full power. No, it wasn't possible, wasn't it? Fortunately, Mary Margaret continued speaking to give a bit of clarity to David's confession.
"We are parents." She stated categorically. "We may not have ever acted as such, but we will always be her biological parents."
"Her?" As in a daughter? His head began to spin, unable to process the information. "I'm afraid I'm not following you. What's going on here, guys?"
After a new exchange of glances, it was Mary Margaret who decided to continue with the explanations. Before she began to speak, though, a strange sensation settled in the pit of his stomach, as if a bad omen was hovering over them. Killian decided to ignore those disturbing thoughts and focused on his friend's explanation instead. "Everything happened twenty-eight years ago." She began, her voice slightly trembling, her eyes probably lost at some point in that time interval.
For the next few minutes, Killian remained enraptured and half stunned at the story that Mary Margaret was telling him, peppered occasionally by David's brief interventions. This was how Killian discovered that Mary Margaret had learned that she was pregnant at the age of seventeen, while David was away studying. She was no more than an orphan girl with no one to lean on and her stepmother, her father's ex-wife and who had decided to take care of her after the death of her beloved father, took advantage of it, manipulating her at her convenience to the point of getting Mary Margaret to decide to give her daughter up for adoption.
Killian's hand closed into a fist and his jaw clenched, while an unusual rage began to flow inside him. "Let me see if I've understood well. You're telling me that that horrible woman took advantage of your vulnerable situation? You were just a girl." He snapped harsher than he intended, but he was a bit shocked by what he was hearing. He did not even want to imagine what hurtful comments that woman would have used to convince her.
"Don't waste your energy on her, Killian. She got what she deserved." David intervened in an attempt to calm him down. "All her machinations had only one goal - to isolate Mary Margaret - to try to reach the inheritance left by her father. She may have separated us from our daughter, but she died without having managed to touch a penny of her money."
"Not that my father had a large amount of money, honestly, but I couldn't access the inheritance until I turned eighteen, and by that time, it would be too late to take care of my daughter..." Mary Margaret's voice trailed off, clearly overwhelmed by remembering the past. She closed her eyes for a moment, while David stroked her hand gently. "Also, sadly, when I finally had access to the inheritance, we had to sell my father's house to get the necessary funds to help Ruth with her illness." David's gaze was absent, probably had traveled several years ago while listening to his wife.
After taking a shuddering breath, she continued telling him how her life was from the moment she gave up her daughter. By the words of both, Killian inferred that David had never agreed with that decision, but had no choice but to accept that it was already too late when he found out.
But once David had returned he did it to stay, determined not to let Cora take advantage of her anymore. By the time she had turned eighteen, she had left her stepmother's house to move in with David and his mother. They had been together since then, only separating for brief intervals of time.
Over the next few years, they had lived in Storybrooke, but it was too painful for them, a permanent reminder of what could have been. For that reason, when David's mother died, there was nothing to tie them there, so they had left behind their painful memories in search of a new beginning.
"And this is where you and your brother come in." David confirmed through a melancholic smile. It was evident in both of their expressions that they were having a terrible time reliving those memories so painful for them. He could not even put himself in the shoes of his friends, wondering how they might feel about losing their daughter forever, when the deep love they felt for her was evident.
"Did you never try to find her?" He asked softly, he did not intend to judge, only to understand.
David shook his head while squeezing his eyes with one hand. "I was tempted hundreds of times from the moment of knowing she existed, but it was a closed adoption, and we really trusted in giving our daughter her best chance. We wouldn't have had anything to offer her at the beginning except our love for her. We didn't even have a home of our own, nor money. We did not have a future to offer her." David trailed off, clearly overwhelmed by the painful memories.
"We never talked about it in London. Our intention was never to forget, but to put some distance from what had happened to us, in an attempt to lighten the burden." Mary Margaret continued, giving him an apologetic smile.
"Except for one night. It was on her tenth birthday. We had met you a year ago and you were still a teenager, not much older than her, and seeing you like that, by our side, so full of life, made me feel guilty since we couldn't offer the same to our daughter. I decided to drown my sorrows in alcohol, but I didn't even get to the second shot before Liam discovered me, and instead of using alcohol, I used him as a shoulder to cry on. I made him promise later that he would never talk about this again, not even with you."
This time it was his turn to squeeze his eyes in an attempt to prevent his tears from falling, while the affection he felt toward the Nolans became even more intense.
"And it's thanks to her, our daughter, that we ended up back in Storybrooke, and so it would seem for you. She's the indirect cause that you have now the chance to move on."
His eyes widened at the unexpected words of Mary Margaret. "What? Did you find her?"
"Well, Regina, Cora's daughter did it, by chance at first, but she got her to stay in. I guess that was her way of making up for what her mother did to us." She continued in a soft tone, but Killian detected a slight inflection in her voice which, along with her comment about Regina, made all his inner alarms jump as he felt a weird sensation gripping his stomach.
"And this is where you appear, Killian." David added tentatively, causing his stomach to tighten even more in anticipation and perhaps fear for what he was about to hear. "You know her."
"How can I get to know her if I've been here just for two months?" Emma is also an orphan, his mind did not hesitate to remind him, but he refused to accept it. No, it can't be.
"It's Emma, Killian. Our daughter is Emma Swan."
Mary Margaret's last confession caused Killian to get up suddenly and begin to walk up and down the living room, while his mind worked frantically, trying now to remember everything he knew about Emma. "Bloody hell." He murmured in a thin voice, the lump formed in his throat preventing him from uttering more words. She doesn't know it . How was it possible? He turned to face his friends. "She doesn't know anything about this, does she? Why?" He snapped, not bothering to hide his inner turmoil. If he had been in other circumstances he would have found even funny how his mood had changed in just a few seconds.
"It's complicated." Mary Margaret admitted hesitantly as she wrung her hands in a nervous gesture.
"Complicated." He cocked his head, studying his friends. "You are saying that you came here in search of your daughter but after five months, she still does not know the truth? Why?"
"Because all our hopes vanished the moment we arrived here and learned the truth." David almost shouted, the pain evident both in his voice and in his expression. "I do not know how much she has told you about her past. But it's been miserable, Killian." He continued in a defeated tone, his brow furrowed with wrinkles, a shadow of guilt crossing his gaze.
"She has only given me a glimpse, but enough so that I can get an idea." Killian admitted.
"How do you think we felt when we found out that her adoptive parents died when she was only three years old? That from that moment, her life became a torment, being transferred from house to house? That she was even incarcerated when she was barely eighteen?" Mary Margaret's voice trailed off, choking on a sob. Luckily David hugged her immediately, both seeking comfort in each other. Killian was not sure he was of any help at that time, not when he felt that he was breaking inside. Because he should have known all this from Emma's mouth, not by third parties. How could he look her in the eye now knowing this secret?
"We can't risk her losing everything she's achieved since she came here." David muttered, as he wrapped his wife's shoulders in a protective attitude. "She has friends, a job, stability. She even seems happy. How do you think she will react when she finds out the truth? At best, she will lock herself away, creating a wall around her. At worst, she will run. It wouldn't be the first time she's done it, according to Regina."
"I'm sorry... I don't know... this is too much." He rubbed his hand over his face and hair, feeling the frustration creep over him. "Bloody hell. What are we supposed to do now?" He questioned more for himself.
"I'm sorry we got you in the middle of all this." Mary Margaret's voice had recovered a little, giving way to a hint of determination. "But we know that you have seen her beyond the classes and we thought that you would understand both her and us."
"She's the hidden talent, isn't she?" David asked without bothering to hide the pride he felt.
"Aye. She's brilliant." Killian admitted as his lips drew an involuntary smile. The image of a smiling Emma holding her camera came to his mind as clearly as if he had her in front of his eyes, managing to calm him down a bit.
"And you're helping her realize her full potential." Mary Margaret confirmed more than questioned. He could only nod. "Good, because that's where you could help us."
"How?" Again the confusion gripped him as he was not sure he wanted to hear what was coming next.
"Providing encounters between us and her."
His heart froze at the words of his friend. "You can't be serious, mate." He shook his head, refusing to accept the request of his friends.
"Please, Killian. We just want her to know us. I know we lost the opportunity to be her parents when we gave her up for adoption, but we can not stand to stay away from her anymore. We only ask for an opportunity to create a bond, even if it's friendship, anything that allows us to be by her side." Mary Margaret's voice sounded almost like a plea, traveling directly to his heart.
Killian exhaled deeply in an attempt to calm his rapid breathing. Such was the agitation that he was feeling in those moments that he felt he could pass out at any moment, due to the pressure to which he was being subjected. Because the reality was that he could not refuse the request of his friends, not with his previous speech, not when he had not had anything to offer them until now. But something told him that if he accepted their request for help, he would be entering the lion's den, and would be risking failing not only to his friends but to Emma herself.
"You don't have to decide, now, Killian. You don't even have to accept. Nothing is going to change between us." David searched his eyes, speaking to him in a calm voice. Killian saw raw honesty in the depth of his blue eyes, as well as immense pain and guilt. Maybe the burden Killian carried on his shoulders was barely bearable. But now that he put himself in David's shoes, he could not even imagine what it would be like to lose a daughter that way and now that she was back within reach, they had no choice but to refrain for fear of hurting her further in the process.
After taking another deep breath, he made a decision.
"Fine, I'll do it but with one condition. You tell her the truth when you have created that bond. She can not live that lie forever. She deserves to know the truth and have the opportunity to decide what path she wants to follow, even if we get hurt in the process. She's at a disadvantage now and it's not fair." Killian warned by giving his voice more determination than he actually felt.
Mary Margaret threw herself into his arms at that moment, without giving him time to react, burying her face in his chest as she mumbled her gratitude in a loop. Killian's eyes met David's while he wrapped his arms around Mary Margaret hesitantly, still overwhelmed by the whole situation.
"Of course, Killian, you're right. Thank you so much. This means the world to us, really." David's voice was also charged with emotion, which did not help to calm his inner turmoil.
He nodded silently before closing his eyes and clinging to Mary Margaret, feeling like the two of them were looking for each other's support in that impulsive hug. The gripping fear didn't disappear from his stomach, though, while an oppressive sensation settled in his chest. He kept wondering if he would be able to handle the situation the next time he saw Emma. A new sensation, this time of bitterness, ran through his whole body, when for the first time, he admitted that his feelings for Emma were real - that for the first time in a long time he had allowed himself to open his heart again. But something told him that said heart was going to end up shattered into pieces in some way. And, unfortunately, he did not seem capable of doing anything to avoid it. His possible future with Emma faded between his fingertips before he even reached it.
Don't hate me...
Thanks for reading. Let me know what did you all think :)
What to expect from the next chapter? It will be the longest of the entire fic for one reason, or for a few, really. Several talks, a new couple in the making, some confessions, a snowball fight, photos (lots of them) and we'll see if Killian is able to fulfill his part of the deal by helping his friends. In compensation for its absence in the last three chapters, the following will be written only from Emma's pov.