A/N: Thanks to CSBB for once again organizing an amazing event. I've been missing Captain Swan for the past year, and having this has helped so much! Thanks to Lana ( high-seas-swan) and Kaitlyn ( Spartanguard) for their beta help. Go check out Lana's story when you get a moment as well – it's amazing! Thanks to Rachel ( Ladyciaramiggles) for the art she has provided. Also, thanks to Kris ( sambethe) for the cover art for the story and for beta help. All of you have made this story what it is! We are still in the weeds here! But only one chapter left after this one!
What do you do when you fuck things up so bad? That was the question Emma had been pondering over the last week ever since Killian walked out of their home, speeding off in his Jeep, leaving her crying against the doorframe thanks to her stupid mouth and thoughts.
She can't believe how shitty she had been for even thinking she could use her friend to adopt Henry. She was even more stupid for not telling him the truth from the beginning.
If only she had just told him - hey, so I still have feelings for you, and while I am attracted to you and I am excited to see where this goes, I also like the idea because it would help me adopt Henry. She knew if she had told him that, he would have helped her out.
It was he who had come up with their stupid promise all those years ago. He was the one who promised her they would marry. If he hadn't brought it up, all the fucked up shit wouldn't have happened.
She tried blaming him, but she knew it was all her fault. She caused this.
The rest of the weekend after he left found Emma being picked up by David, who Mary Margaret called after Killian left, and set in her bed. The lights were turned off, drapes drawn. Mary Margaret and Ruby took care of Henry, who still hadn't spoken to her, heartbroken over the shake up, too.
He was so upset with her that he too left, asking David if he could stay the night. She let him go, with more tears streaming from her face.
She hated that she not only upset the man she loved, but upset her son, the person she would do anything to protect. She promised him that things wouldn't change between them when Killian entered the picture, yet she let them change. She still loved Henry, but she disappointed him - something she's never done before. That's what changed.
Her bed became her home on Sunday. She didn't want to eat, drink, or do anything. She didn't want to continue. She couldn't go on thinking and pretending like Killian leaving didn't mean anything. The crying had ceased for most of the day though, thanks to the cocoon she made using her comforter that still held the smell of him. She imagined that he didn't leave her; imagined him holding her in his arms, telling her that he understood. But it was all a dream.
Henry came home on Sunday night, but didn't say anything to her. He walked straight past her as she stood in the hallway, hoping to explain herself. At least she didn't get a slamming door. That was a start.
Tears came again that night, as she stared at the bed. The night before was hard, but the sobs that racked her body lulled her to sleep - not worried about the missing person beside her. This night was different. She felt the missing presence. The room was too big without him; too quiet. The laughter they had shared still echoed in her mind, but not being able to really hear it, to visualize it, shocked her system. It disoriented her.
Sleep didn't come.
Her hand spent the night rubbing the spot on the bed that was normally occupied. Her eyes glossed over from the staring. The tears stopped around midnight, but the shaking didn't. It was like she was perpetually cold, and nothing but Killian would be able to warm her up.
She didn't just miss him - she was a ghost without him.
Henry found her the next morning, silent tears dropping into her coffee mug. The absence of his note made the emotions reappear.
At first, she wasn't sure he was going to talk to her; and just like with Killian, she didn't want to be the first one to talk. She had fucked this up; because of that, she was the one who needed to suffer, to give them time and space to deal with everything.
"Have you even tried to call him?" A snarky voice pulled him from her mug.
The scowl her son wore on his face was devastating. If she didn't know him any better, she would say there was actual hatred in his eyes; but she knew Henry didn't have it in himself to hate anyone, no matter what they did.
"What?" she asked, with a bit of sass, like any other mother would do if their son copped an attitude like the one her son was giving her.
Henry shrank back, realizing what he had said.
"I'm sorry," he started, keeping his eyes cast down. Emma suddenly felt bad.
Henry's relationship with Killian meant a lot to him. Emma was pretty sure that Henry missed him almost as much as she did.
"Have you talked to him?" he asked a bit more softly, his eyes staying glued to the floor.
"No," she said flatly.
"Have you tried?" The attitude of his feelings peaked out a bit.
"Yes," she replied.
That made him look up.
"Sit down, Henry," she motioned to the chair at the table.
He sat down, taking a pop tart out of the box that he had moved to the table earlier. His glass of milk, half full, sat nearby.
"First, I'm sorry," she started but she couldn't get out the rest before Henry began a rapid fire questioning.
"Why would you even think that? How could you treat Killian that way? Did you even think about how he would feel? Did you even like him?"
She reached across the table, grasping his hand, prompting him to silence the questions and look at her.
"Henry," she said softly. "I'm sorry. But what you have to know if the full story. What you and Killian walked in on wasn't exactly what it seemed."
"Then what was it?" He questioned, his hand staying beneath hers, but closed off and cold.
"When Killian and I were younger, we made a promise - or well, he did. We had gotten married when we were five; a silly thing kids do, ya know? But when Killian moved away, he promised that one day he would come back and marry me. We didn't talk again until a few weeks ago. He brought it up, in what I'm sure was just a teasing manner, but he still mentioned it. It was right after we had heard about the application being denied again. Ms. Mills told me that if I wanted any chance of adopting you before high school, the only way it would happen was if I got married. Now, of course I wasn't going to marry just anyone in order to adopt you. But Killian, I knew him. He was my best friend; still is. So, for a fleeting moment, one that I hate myself for even thinking, I thought that he was the answer."
She could see the anger still in his eyes. She could see the disappointment. But, she persisted, because he needed to know how she really felt. It was time for Emma Swan to stop keeping it all inside, and just feel.
"The next day, I did ask Killian to marry me. Part of it, yes, was because I knew it would help our situation. I would get you, permanently, and you would get a family. But, it was a bonus. Like finding out they are serving cake at school, then to find out it's Funfetti, your favorite. I had been thinking a lot about Killian before he messaged me. Plus, the connection we had the night we reunited was something I couldn't ignore. So why should I give up something, just because there was an added bonus?" She asked him.
"But Mom, it's not the same. No one gets hurt if the cake is Funfetti! This, thinking that, hurt us," he countered.
And although Emma's heart was breaking over what happened, she couldn't help but smile. Henry had an amazing moral compass, and she was proud of the young man he was becoming.
"I know kid, which is why I didn't tell anyone. I know it was wrong to even think that I could use Killian like that. But, over time, I just kept seeing it as something good. An added bonus. I always knew though it was bad," she confessed.
"Then why didn't you just tell him? Or me?" he responded.
"Because, something happened that has never happened for me before," she smiled at him, he raised his eyebrows in return, "I fell in love. Sure, I love grandma and pop, Mary Margaret and David, you; but I've never been in love. Until Killian. By the time I knew what I was feeling, by the time I wasn't scared to tell him what I was feeling, it was all over. That's what you two walked in on; I was trying to find out a way to tell Killian everything," the tears started again.
"So, you wouldn't marry him, just because it would help you adopt me?" He asked.
"No!" She was resolute. Her expression firm, but full of love as she stared at him.
"Good," he smiled.
Henry stood up from his chair and came over to hug her. She sat in her chair and let her son wrap his arms around her frame, his head resting on hers.
"I'm sorry kid, I know you love him too," she whispered.
"He's ok," he chuckled.
"To get back to your questions though, I have always thought about his feelings, which was one reason I never told either of you. I didn't want him to think poorly of me, or think that that devious thought was the only reason why I did any of this. I can't lie anymore and say that I didn't think those thoughts, but my feelings for Killian are much stronger and louder than that thought," she answered.
She started pouring out everything she felt about the situation to her son. While she was pretty sure it wasn't a conversation one normally had with their teenage son, Emma knew there was no one else she would rather talk to. Besides, Henry was a smart kid and gave better advice than Ruby most days.
"But, it doesn't matter now; Killian left and we just have to pick up the pieces," she sighed.
"No, call him, tell him what you just told me," Henry said, running into her bedroom to get the phone she had left on the charger.
"He doesn't want to talk to me Henry," she sighed, looking down at the phone that haunted her the night before.
"Try," the pleading in his voice was hard to say no to.
So, she lifted the phone and made the call she had made a dozen times in the past twenty four hours. The first few times she called him, she held her breath as the phone rang and rang, eventually being cut off by his simple voicemail You've reached Jones, leave a message. The first time she heard his voice she sobbed. She never got the chance to get any words out. The second time, she begged him to call her back. Her voice mails got more desperate as each passing call hit his outgoing message. She cried, telling him that she needed to talk to him. She never told him the full truth, though. That deserved a face-to-face conversation.
However, after the tenth call, his phone stopped ringing. His voice echoed through the phone right away as his number was dialed.
She pressed the button, sending the call through. Again, she held her breath like he first phone call she had made.
She thought she heard a click, signaling that the phone call had been ignored; his voice soon creating the same speech she had heard time and time again.
"Hey, it's me. I talked to Henry and explained everything. Please call me back, so I can explain everything to you. Please Killian," she hung up. Defeated.
"See, he doesn't want to talk to me," she said, looking at her son.
"I'm sorry, Mom," he said, returning to the position he held earlier, hugging her.
"It's ok; let's go to school," she suggested, noting the time.
Life had to move on, even if it didn't seem like a life she wanted to live.
Emma rarely showed videos in her class. When she did, they were clips that helped her to actually teach what she was going to teach. But she just didn't have it in her that day to do anything. Her students deserved a teacher who was there 100% and that wasn't Emma. Not that day at least.
At least the video picked her up a bit.
Bill Nye the Science Guy May be old; but it held merit. Plus, she hadn't been approved to show his new show yet. She had great worksheets to go along with the videos and young Bill Nye was pretty good looking.
By the time Henry's class rolled around, Emma was starting to feel normal again - at least a little.
"Hey, Mom," Henry said as he strutted into the classroom; their talk from earlier that morning had changed his entire mood.
"Hey, kid," she responded, trying to sound light and happy.
"Can I go over to Avery's after school? We have a project we need to work on, and we want to finish it early," he asked, with a bit too much enthusiasm.
"A project?" She asked, knowing there was no way her kid was that excited about a school project, even if he did enjoy school.
"Alright, fine, the new DLC for Battlefield came out today and we want to play it; we do have a project though, that we were going to do afterwards," he confessed, hope lacing his voice.
"I'm not so sure…" she began but Henry cut her off quickly.
"Avery's mom's gonna be home, and you know she isn't going to let us play for too long. Please?" He begged drawing out the please in a way she hadn't heard since he was younger.
"Alright, fine; but you're home by seven, understood?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Ok! Thanks Mom," he said, turning to walk to his seat.
Great, another lonely night at home, she thought to herself. Just when she thought things were getting better.
Henry did make it home by seven, but he said goodnight and went straight to bed when he entered the house. Emma knew she wasn't going to need to cook dinner since Avery's mom always fed Henry before he came home. Still, she waited in the kitchen for his arrival, hoping for some human contact.
During the long hours between her arriving home and Henry, she realized just how lonely she had been before Killian.
Her nights before him were mostly solitary. Sure, she had Henry, but as he had been growing up, school, sports, band, friends, and everything else started getting in the way. She thought back on all the nights she spent alone in her sunroom reading a book, or laughing alone to a comedy on the TV.
Now that she had experienced what life could be like as an actual family, she craved it even more.
Maybe she should get a cat.
Maybe she was just losing her mind in the loneliness.
When Avery's mom dropped Henry off, as she normally did, Emma could have sworn she heard the familiar sound of a specific Jeep rumbling in her drive. Her mind games even took her as far as standing up from her chair, inching her closer to the window. But, she stopped herself. It wouldn't, couldn't, be him.
She still wished it would be though.
She wished it would be him walking in behind Henry, coming back to let her apologize and correct her mistakes. Wished Killian would tell her everything was alright and their love was stronger than all the bullshit that had happened. She even believed he would tell her they both had fucked up in the past, and if she could forgive him for losing touch for so many years, then he could forgive her for thinking something anyone in her position would think.
But, when the door closed behind Henry and she didn't hear anything else, she knew it wasn't going to happen.
That night, she curled up in bed, tucking Killian's pillow against her body and breathing in deep, a silent stream of tears coming down her face.
Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were much of the same. Emma had a pretty silent breakfast with Henry. His questioning on Killian hadn't resurfaced, which Emma was thankful for. She did try to call him each morning, even sent him texts. She stopped apologizing in every voicemail and text. They weren't ever going to be enough. Instead, she told him about her day. Her phone calls in the morning consisted of her simply wishing him a good day, telling him to be safe. Her texts at night followed the same outline. She told him how she missed him, how her days were still shitty without him; but that she hoped he had a good day. She always ended them with a good night.
They were all left unanswered and unread.
She even tried to Facebook him, but her messages there met the same end.
Worry was starting to set in; maybe something had happened to him. She knew he needed space and time, but she didn't think Killian was so mean as to simply ignore her.
She sent him a simple message on Thursday evening, when she got home and the silence became too much.
Facebook messenger sat open on her phone, the bar blinking, waiting for her to type. While her message was simple, it took almost two hours for her to complete the message.
Killian, I know you're angry. I know you're mad. But, I'm beginning to worry. Please, just let me know you're OK and I'll leave you alone. I promise. Just tell me you're OK and I'll stop calling and messaging. Emma.
She didn't have the strength to wait and see if he had read it. She knew if she waited to see, she would be up all night, staring at the screen, praying the same way she had all week for him to respond, or even just read, the message.
I'll know in the morning, she thought to herself. With that, she turned off the phone and took the bottle of wine that Mary Margaret had brought to school for her, into her bathroom. She drank the whole bottle while in the tub; wishing she had someone in there with her. Thankfully though, she was drunk enough when she got out, she was able to fall into a deep, restless, dreamless sleep.
The headache she had in the morning was worth it.
She turned on her phone. No notifications, minus her normal daily email subscriptions, pinged. Her heart fell as nothing appeared on her screen. Did he really care so little for her? Was he really that hurt?
She didn't bother to check to see if he read her message. She was too angry.
After Killian left her all those years ago, after he just stopped writing to her, she still forgave him. After all he said he had done, been through, she never once truly held it against him. The second she saw him again, she forgave him. That's what best friends, soul mates did. They forgave. No matter what, they forgave.
The day dragged on, with her phone silently calling out to her to take a peak. But she never did. She wanted to - she couldn't lie - but she couldn't force herself to look. She didn't want the pain that she was sure she would face.
When school ended, Emma was faced with another evening by herself. Henry had asked to go over to Avery's house again, and since Emma had tried to get as much of Henry's attention over the past couple of days (in order to quell the feeling of loneliness), she allowed him. She didn't turn on the radio on her drive home, deciding to get used to the silence before it engulfed her. She heard every creak of the car, heard the pelting of the rain that had started early that afternoon. The sound was soothing really; the constant drum of water hitting the metal.
She was tempted to drive around, not wanting to sit at home in the silence. She knew she could hear the rain just as well in her sunroom, and she could actually watch the drops chase each other down the window panes. But the comfort of the car would be lost. In the bug, she felt snug and protected. It was small, so her breathing filled the space; she could see everything. The loneliness didn't feel as large. She knew once she stepped foot inside the house, where she wouldn't be able to see everything and hear everything, the feeling would swallow her whole. In the car, she didn't feel like anyone else was needed; it was her sanctuary. But her home didn't feel like home anymore; not when a major part of it was missing.
After two hours of driving, she knew she needed to go home. Her bladder and rumbling stomach left her no choice. It was time to face reality, to get used to coming home to emptiness.
Her street even looked different. Most would see the fallen leaves and wet pavement as picturesque - the early evening casting a glow against the concrete and the street lights creating shadows on the ground. It was the perfect fall scene, but to Emma, it was cold and uninviting. To her, it was a reminder of the coldness she would feel when she entered in her home.
She didn't get the chance to determine if her feelings were right though.
In the driveway, where a Jeep used to park, was a truck she wasn't familiar with. It towered over her bug, making the area that she parked in look darker than normal.
Most people who would see a giant truck parked in their driveway would keep driving, call the cops, and find out what maniac was in their home. Emma though, pulled right in. While the truck looked menacing, it didn't scare her. She rarely got a gut feeling, outside of knowing when people lied to her; but it was talking now. It told her she didn't have to be scared of the truck that sat in her drive. That she wanted to find out who it belonged to.
As she drove into her spot, she noted no one in the front seat, but did note a figure on her porch. Her porch was small, just big enough for one person to stand on, covered.
Her eyes zoned in as she put her car in park and gathered her things.
She didn't bother with an umbrella, wanting the rain to send chills up her spine.
As she got out of the car, the rain hitting her head and pooling on her jacket, she recognized the figure that loomed in her doorway.
Liam Jones.
He had been back in Storybrooke for years, yet Emma hadn't seen him once. It was odd for Storybrooke. It was a small town and normally, you saw a person at least once a month. Everyone knew everyone else, gossip spread like wildfire, so the fact that Emma hadn't seen Liam had been odd. She knew he was back of course, but she also knew through the town gossip that Killian hadn't come with him. So she never reached out.
While she thought of Liam as a big brother, she hadn't been as close to him as she was to Killian or his mom. She kept a look out too; hoping that if she saw a glimpse of him, feelings and memories of Killian would come flooding backs yet, she never saw him.
"Hey, Emma," he said as she neared him. His tone was somber, and so was the look on his face.
"Liam," she said, looking him square in the face.
He stepped out from her porch and into the rain, allowing her access to her door. She didn't say anything to him though as she entered. She hoped he knew what her open door meant.
She didn't give him any pleasantries. Walking into her home, she listened deeply, hoping to hear some form of noise signaling that someone was in there with her, but she heard nothing. A wave of relief washed over her. Maybe he wasn't there for what she initially thought.
When she saw him standing there, she thought that either Killian was inside, gathering his stuff to make a silent exit from her life, or maybe Liam was there to get his stuff for him.
So to hear the silence inside was one of the best sounds she'd ever heard. But, she still knew there was another bad reason Liam could have been there.
She heard footsteps behind her, they were timid and a bit unsure.
"Emma," Liam whispered, not venturing any further from her doorstep.
"Just give me a minute to get his stuff and I'll bring it out to you. Make yourself comfortable," she said, turning to finally look at him.
There were tears in her eyes, a normal look for her the past few days. The tears this time though were harder for her to let fall. She knew that the tears she was shedding were because what she had with Killian. what she still wanted with Killian, was over.
"Shit. Emma, that's not why I'm here," he said, finally moving into the house, closing the gap between them.
"You're not?" The question barely escaped her lips before a sob caught in her throat.
"Christ," he responded, pulling her into a hug.
Just like with Killian, a familiar feeling washed over her. And with the feelings, she broke down.
With Liam holding her, just like he had one summer when Killian had hurt himself and Emma was scared she had ruined their friendship, she let everything she had been feeling over the past week take full hold. Yes, she had cried over it, and she constantly felt like shit over it; she didn't feel the full weight of what she had done until Liam held her.
"I fucked up so bad, Liam," she confessed, looking up at him, silently begging him to fix everything that was wrong.
"He's a mess, too," he answered.
"He is?" She couldn't believe it, not really; not when he had been ignoring her.
"Of course he is. Sit down, let's talk," he motioned for Emma to move into the living room.
"I don't know how to fix this," she cried, the tears still coming.
"I may have an idea; but first, I need to tell you what's been going on with Killian the last week," he began, capturing Emma's attention. "He was so upset on Sunday. I've never seen him so sad. I've seen him upset before - angry and hurt - but never have I seen him truly heartbroken. Even after Milah, he wasn't truly heartbroken. But, when he heard you, his heart shattered. I told him he should give it sometime and talk to you, but you know him. He won't do anything until he is ready. He's been lost since then. In all the time he's been in the Navy, not once has he taken off work, but he actually called out sick. It's been a long week."
During Liam's recollection of the week, Emma couldn't stop the tears. She had been a wreck, and Killian had been suffering just as bad as she had. So, not only had she hurt him once, she hurt him twice.
"The only thing that seemed to make him happy was when your kid came to talk to him," Liam added.
"Wait, what?" Emma asked, stunned at what Liam said.
"Yeah, Killian actually looked happy - the only time he looked happy this week. Henry showed up on Monday, banging down my door begging to talk to Killian. I'm not sure what they talked about, but your lad looked pretty smug when Killian drove him home," Liam laughed at the reminder.
Emma couldn't help but smile. She hadn't been losing her mind on Monday. She did hear his Jeep. Something stirred in her heart. If he drove Henry home, he must still something for her right? Especially if Henry looked smug.
Before she did anything else though, she made a mental note to scold Henry when she got a moment. Even though she was pretty sure Henry had only lied to her to help her, she still needed to make sure he knew it was wrong.
"The little meddler," she said.
"Aye, that he is," he said.
They sat in silence for a moment.
"You have to fix this, Emma," he said again.
"I do, but he won't answer my calls. I've messaged him, texted, called - done everything trying to get in touch with him. He doesn't want to speak to me," she threw her hands up in frustration.
"I know," he confessed, causing Emma to look confused. She knew Killian and Liam were close; but she was pretty sure he wouldn't tell Liam this - it wasn't gentalemenly.
"Killian left early today for work, some meeting..So I took the opportunity to go in and clean up a bit - that's when I saw your message. I can't sit around anymore and watch him like this. You may have done something wrong, but everyone deserves a second chance. And unfortunately, my brother isn't going to get off his ass to fix this, so you have to. You need to show him how you feel," he said.
Emma knew he was right. But, knowing was easier than doing.
"How do I even do that?" she asked.
"I'm not gonna tell you exactly what to do, but I will tell you that everything you need to know can be found in here," he handed Emma a large box, gave her a wink and left.
"Good luck!" he called from the doorway,
Emma sat in silence for a long time, not doing anything.
It wasn't that she didn't want to open the box - she wanted nothing more than to look and see what was inside that held the key to fixing her relationship - but she had to take a moment.
She pulled off the top and looked inside.
At first, she wasn't sure what she was looking at; but then she saw the old, yet familiar scribble of a young Killian. Envelopes filled the box. She filtered through the box, watching the scribble turn into pretty legible handwriting. On all of them, two words were written.
Emma Swan
The realization of what she was staring at finally came to her. Letters. Killian had been writing Emma letters all along. He never stopped. From the quick count she did of the box; he had written her at least twice a month since the month he stopped.
Something told her it was wrong to read the letters that were there. However. Liam gave them to her and she was already on Killian's bad side.
Eventually, time won out. Henry came home, which meant that two hours had passed since Liam had met her on the doorstep.
She quickly hid the box, not wanting any questions as she tried to figure out what to do.
They ate a traditional "pre-Killian" dinner: grilled cheese and hot cocoa. They had normal "pre-Killian" discussions - Henry discussed school and video games while Emma nodded along like she really cared about the newest DLC.
Henry wanted to watch a TV show after dinner, so another hour passed before she was able to take a look at the box again and finally make a decision about what to do.
She held the box in her hands as she looked at the empty spot where Killian's presence still lingered.
Looking at the spot, she knew she needed to read the letters.
She started with the first letter in the box.
It took four hours, but she read each and every one. She read about his mom dying and the guilt he felt about it. She read about the first fight he got into in school. He wrote about his feelings for another little girl. Emma cried as she read the letters detailing his sadness over his mom. She laughed at his antics from middle school. She was right when he talked about jealousy when he spoke of Milah.
Eventually she got the end and realized the perfect way to tell Killian everything she needed to.