"We need code names," Henry announced the next morning as they were walking towards the school bus stop. Killian had spent half of the night tossing and turning in his - new and quite comfortable - bed, debating whether or not he should be antagonizing Regina so publicly by walking the lad to the bus. He knew he should lay low, set some boundaries, and try to maintain his distance.
But he didn't want to.
It had been the entire purpose of his stay to ensure Henry's well-being - he could now add helping Mary Margaret overcome her disappointment to that list - and Killian couldn't do that if he was hiding out in Mary Margaret's guest room. So he was done hiding. Regina could come looking for him if she wanted to and perhaps - perhaps- he could explain again what his purpose was.
"Isn't 'Cobra' our code name?" Killian asked, confused.
"That's the mission. I mean us. I need something to call you." Henry's voice was small at the end, his eyes darting insecurely to Killian and he knew the lad wasn't talking just about the mission. He swallowed hard, clenching his jaw and fighting with himself against the urge to give Henry what he wanted so desperately. He couldn't. He shouldn't.
"How about you call me Killian for now?" The disappointment on Henry's face almost tore him apart. How many times could a heart break and still work? Killian's heart had broken a decade ago, but then it had remained dormant for such long time he'd almost forgotten how it felt when the pain reached inside him and made it almost impossible to breathe. Yet, in the last three days his heart had been awoken, and quickly resumed its usual task of bringing him nothing but ache at every single decision he made.
Henry nodded, his head hanging low in defeat for a brief second. But he was a brave lad, his boy - Emma's boy- and Killian could see the kid's walls building back up before he gave Killian a dashing smile. "Okay, then. I'll see you later, Killian." The last word might have been his name, but the intent in which he pronounced left nothing to his imagination. He could hear the word Henry wanted to say resonating in his mind as the lad hopped on the bus.
It was only the sirens of the patrol car what shook Killian out of his musings, as it sped past him, before turning abruptly into the mouth of the alley in front of him. It stopped there, and the sheriff stepped out, his sights set on Killian.
"Was the siren really needed? Do you feel the need to overcompensate for something, mate?" Killian asked, cocking an eyebrow at the sheriff. Perhaps he shouldn't be pulling Graham's leg like this, but he needed a distraction from his own mind.
"Funny, Jones." Graham shrugged. "I just felt it was a good way to get your attention, you seemed a little lost in your own thoughts back there."
Killian didn't appreciate the way Graham was able to read his mood so quickly. "Are you arresting me again? Did the Mayor found another local ordinance I'm infringing? It can't be a law against leather jackets," he said, pointing out Graham's attire. "Unless it's against black ones?"
Graham chuckled and let a few moments pass. "Are you done?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow and Killian nodded. "I'm here to thank you. For your help finding that coma patient. We all owe you a debt of gratitude."
Killian couldn't believe his ears, but Graham's tone was sincere. It made him uncomfortable and he simply resorted to his usual method to avoid any type of closeness to people. "What do I get? A beer at the local ratty bar and a chance to play your wingman as you try to get a date?"
"How about a job?" That clearly got Killian's attention. "I could use a deputy."
Bloody hell.
"I have a job, mate."
"There isn't much bail bonds work going on here."
"There doesn't seem to be much sheriffing going on either, if you can spend all this time chasing after the newcomer in town," Killian pointed out.
"There's work to do around here and, honestly, I could use someone like you at the station."
"Someone like me?" Killian cocked an eyebrow at him - this was fast becoming an eyebrow-cocking contest, he noted -, not sure if he liked the implication of Graham's words.
Graham lift his hands in a placating manner. "You're street smart, and you think fast on your feet. Those are helpful traits to have in a deputy." He reached for his wallet, pulled out a card and handed it over to Killian. "How about you think about it? It might be your chance to stay put for a while." He nodded and took a step back, heading back to the driver's seat of the patrol car.
Killian stood there, contemplating the card that he held in his fingers, a strange sensation running through him.
/-/
After leaving Henry on the bus, and for the lack of something - anything - better to do, Killian sat at Granny's, perusing the local newspaper, a hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon in front of him. Clearly this was Small Town America ™ if the awakening of the coma patient had made the front page headline.
The doorbell jingled and he heard the distinctive click-clack of designer heels on the linoleum that could only announce the arrival of one person. "How was your walk with Henry?" Regina asked, waiting a heartbeat to give him a knowingly smile. "That's right – I know everything. But relax. I don't mind," she finished almost smugly as she sat down opposite him at the table.
"You don't?" Killian asked warily, the change in Regina's attitude raising goosebumps on him.
"Because you no longer worry me, Mr. Jones," she announced nonchalantly. "I did a little digging into who you are. And what I found well, let's say it was quite soothing."
He swallowed hard, his voice almost breaking at the words he spoke. "It was?"
"It all comes down to one simple number: Seven."
"Seven?" Killian had an idea where this was going, but he still refused to let her see it was affecting him. He'd been masking his feelings for more than a decade, he could certainly put up a mask for the adoptive mother of his son.
"It's the number of addresses you've had in the last decade. Your longest stay in a place was two years." Regina quirked an eyebrow, as if she was rejoicing in the conversation. "Really, what did you enjoy so much about Portland, Oregon?"
It wasn't a what. It was who I was looking for.
He clenched his jaw, feigning indifference to her words as he played with the newspaper. "I have found accommodations in town," he said in a small voice, almost ruminating the words.
"With Miss Blanchard?" Regina gave him a condescending chuckle. "That is going to grow old quickly, don't you think? She doesn't seem like the type to catch your attention for long."
He wasn't sure which one she wanted to insult more with those insinuations, if his lack of commitment to a romantic relationship- or any type of bond, for that matter - or Mary Margaret's inability to find someone that cared for her.
"That is not what this is-" he started to defend himself, but Regina cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"You still don't have a lease. There's nothing tying you here." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on the chair. "In order for something to grow, Mr. Jones, it needs roots. And you? You don't have any. People don't change. They only fool themselves into believing they can."
"You don't know me," he said calmly, trying very hard not to let his emotions get the best of him.
"No, I think I do. All I ask is, as you carry on your transient life, you think of Henry and what's best for him. Perhaps consider a clean break. It's going to happen anyway." She stood up, pleased with her words. "Enjoy your cocoa."
"I'm here for Henry," he said, hating the pleading tone in his voice. "Look, I'm not trying to do anything- I just want to help," he finished, his eyes almost begging her to show some compassion.
But it seemed compassion was not on the list of Regina's personality traits as she gave him one last look. "Sometimes I wonder… exactly how long did it take you to walk away from the mother of your child after you found out she was pregnant?"
He didn't realize he'd punched the table with his fist until he felt the warm liquid of his cocoa splashing against his shirt. Ruby rushed to him with a cloth, but his button down was already past saving.
He sighed, his anger quickly turning to frustration with himself. "Do you have a laundry room I can use?"
After Ruby pointed him down the corridor, he wasted no time in making his way there, removing his black leather jacket and tossing it over the washing machines as he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it in in one of the available ones. He looked around for something to wear, his eyes landing on a light blue shirt hanging on a line. He hadn't stolen clothes in twelve years, but bloody hell, old habits die hard, and it seemed today was not the day in which he was raising the bar.
It was only once he'd pulled the shirt over his shoulders that he noticed the wrecked sobs coming from somewhere behind him. He whirled around, hastily buttoning the shirt, to see a young girl sobbing in the corner while holding an armful of pink sheets.
"Are you okay, darling?" he asked politely.
"They're pink," she sobbed.
"Have you tried bleach?" he pointed out the obvious while trying to focus on his own things. It wasn't like he wanted to get involved in yet another thing in this town. The girl shifted and it was then that he noticed her swollen belly. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, a sensation of dread rising in his throat.
"Oh," he whispered.
"Last night, I felt contractions and the doctor said that the baby could come any day now," she said.
He turned around, pouring soap and activating the washing machine, trying to battle the memories and sensations that were coming to him.
"Wonderful," he offered in a small voice.
"It's just that, um, when the… When the baby comes, no one thinks that I can do this. No one thinks I can do anything. Maybe they're right," she sounded so young and small and broken that it broke Killian's heart in return.
He'd often wondered how Emma had felt when faced with the challenge of being pregnant at such young age, if she'd sounded like this when she decided she couldn't do it.
He slowly turned to face the girl. "How old are you?"
"Nineteen," she answered.
Killian gave her a small smile. "I was the same age. Henry's mother - biological mother - was eighteen."
There was surprise in the girl's look and Killian gave her a reassuring nod. He didn't want to relive the moments that led to his decision to consent to the adoption, the pain and regret still soaking deep within his bones; but perhaps something good would come out of all that. At least he could help someone else.
"Everyone will have an opinion, lass. They will tell you what you're capable of and what you're incapable of - especially if you're with child. But ultimately, the decision is yours: whether you keep it or you decide to give it up for adoption."
"It's not as easy as it looks."
"It never is," Killian sighed, running his head through his hair. "But if you want things to change, you have change them yourself. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets - that's what my Papa used to say." He gave her a final reassuring smile before he finished rolling up the sleeves of his borrowed shirt and grabbed his black leather jacket.
/-/
The rest of the day had gone by relatively uneventfully and the next morning finally brought to town the three boxes he'd asked his coworker to pack and send his way. He'd had to drive out to the nearest town to pick them up, as they didn't have direct deliveries to Storybrooke, but nevertheless, it gave Killian a new sense of security.
He sat on the floor, his hands caressing the box that held his fondest trinkets and tokens, including his embroidered baby blanket - the one thing he had from when he'd been found as an infant.
"It feels so bloody good to have my things here," he commented, as Mary Margaret came to stand next to him, setting a plate of snacks down on the table.
"That's it?" she asked curiously.
"What do you mean?" Killian asked, getting a little defensive.
"Is the rest in storage, or is this really everything?"
"This is all of it," he sighed, running a hand through his hair and reaching to scratch behind his ear. He'd been so used to keep his things to minimal possessions, so used to moving from one place to the next without time or space to carry much, that it'd been something that had stuck, even at an older age. Besides, he didn't need to carry much, nothing was meaningful enough for him not to leave behind. "I'm not sentimental," he offered as small explanation, hoping Mary Margaret was able to read between the lines and drop it.
She did. "I guess it makes it easier when you have to move," she provided in return, a soft and understanding smile on her lips that made Killian feel better almost immediately.
There came a knock at the door, a development which seemed to confuse Mary Margaret - it seemed she wasn't used to visitors on the weekends - and her confusion seemed to only grow when she answered the door.
"Miss Blanchard," a voice that Killian couldn't recognize said. "Would Mr. Jones be at home?"
The sound of his name made Killian stand up and quickly stride to the door, coming face to face with their visitor. He remembered him from the first night he'd spent at Granny's, the man that was there to collect the rent. Killian had learnt later that he owned a pawn shop - and half of the town apparently.
"My name is Mr. Gold," the man introduced himself, extending his hand. Killian took it and give it a firm shake, not liking the way it made him feel, as if something dark and poisonous had entered the room.
"I remember," he said shortly, standing by the door and waiting for the other man to explain the reason of his appearance at his doorstep - well, Mary Margaret's doorstep.
"I have a proposition for you, Mr. Jones," he started, a small and polite smile coming to his lips. "I - I need your help. I'm looking for someone." There was shyness and self-deprecation in his tone, but Killian didn't buy it. You didn't end up owning most of the town with niceties.
"Really?" he asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest in a protective stance, his eyes darting to Mary Margaret. She looked from him to Gold for a quick minute before she spoke again.
"You know what?" Mary Margaret said, sensing the mood shifting in the room. "I'm going to - jump in the bath, or something." She was out of the open space and hidden in the bathroom in no time, and Killian had to admire how quickly she'd been to get the bloody hell out of the situation.
"I have a photo," Gold said as he pulled a folded picture from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. It was only then that Killian noticed the cane he had - he seemed to briefly recollect seeing it the night he met him. He opened the door wider and allowed the man to enter the loft, and his hand closing on the photograph Gold gave him. His eyebrows shot in surprise as he recognized the young girl he met yesterday in the laundry room.
"Her name is Ashley Boyd. And she's taken something quite valuable of mine," Gold finished.
"Why don't you go to the police?" Killian asked, his hand tracing the photograph as he closed the door and turned to face Gold.
"Because, uh… She's a confused young woman. She's pregnant. Alone and scared. I don't want to ruin this young girl's life. But I just want my property returned." There was something off about the man. Killian couldn't tell for certain he was lying, but something wasn't right.
"What is it?" he asked curiously. Whatever it was, it had made Ashley desperate enough to break into the shop whilst nine months pregnant, and clearly Gold cared enough to have her tracked down for it.
Gold looked behind him, as if he were making sure that Mary Margaret hadn't materialized all of the sudden. "Well, one of the advantages of you not being the police is discretion. Let's just say it's a precious object and leave it at that."
Oh, and the plot thickens.
"When did you see her last?" He could do this, he could get technical and professional in his questions and not get attached. It was just a potential case, after all.
"Last night. That's how I got this." He lifted his hair to show Killian a bruise and small cut on his forehead. "It's so unlike her. She was quite wound up. Rambling on and on about fighting for what she wanted. I have no idea what got into her."
Bloody hell. Amazing job, mate.
Gold looked at him expectantly, "Mr. Jones, please help me find her. My only other choice is the police, and I don't think anyone wants to see that baby born in jail now, do they?"
Buggering hell. There goes keeping unattached, Killian thought, his mind playing scenarios for him he didn't really want to revisit.
"No, of course not. No one should go through that if it can be avoided," Killian said, clearing his throat.
"You'll help me then?" Gold asked eagerly. Killian still didn't like the man. He knew it was an act, but yet he couldn't pinpoint what the angle was.
"I'll help her," he clarified, his hand still holding the photograph.
He didn't have time to read Gold's quirked smile before he got distracted by the door opening suddenly behind them.
"Hey, Killian. I was thinking we-"
The face on Henry when he spotted Gold was priceless. Killian would feel bad for the lad if he didn't think this was a good lesson for him to learn. Never show up unannounced, especially when you're sneaking in and everyone knows who your mother is. Henry still had a lot to learn, it seemed. Killian just wasn't sure those were things he should be teaching him.
"Hey Henry, how are you?" Gold asked cheerily and Killian liked the man even less.
"Okay?"
"Good," Gold said, as he started towards the door. "Give my regards to your mother. And, good luck, Mr. Jones."
Killian nodded and watched the man leave, before moving on to finding a change of clothes from one of the boxes.
"Do you know who that is?" Henry asked
"Yeah, I do now," Killian said, digging out a blue Henley and a pair of combat boots.
"Who? Cause I'm still trying to figure it out."
Oh.
"I meant in real Storybrooke," Killian said shrugging.
Henry noticed the boxes, his head tilting to the side. "Is that all you brought?" There was something in his voice that made Killian feel undeserving, as if he were coming up short somehow. It was a very familiar feeling that he didn't like to revisit. Not from Henry.
"What are you doing here, lad?" he asked in a clipped tone.
"My mom's gone til five. I thought we could hang out."
He wanted to, he really did. But right now, there was a very confused pregnant woman for which Killian felt responsible. Not to mention, there would probably be a paycheck in it for him if he found her. And he could use the money as he wasn't planning on living off Mary Margaret's hospitality for free much longer. He wanted to at least contribute with his share of the rent and groceries. "I wish I could. But there's something I have to do."
/-/
Henry had persistently followed him outside the house and into the Bug, pleading to be part of Killian's search. He'd refused at first, claiming it would be dangerous, but that only seemed to increase the boy's enthusiasm. Killian felt cornered, a frustrated sigh coming to his lips when Henry pulled the one card that he knew would have him caving; a small voice claiming that he just wanted to spent time with him. He shook his head all the while he and Henry climbed into the car, wondering how he'd been bested by a ten year old. Then he turned on the ignition, and they got to work.
He decided to start with Ruby, as he'd heard she and Ashley were close. Ruby wasn't much help - he could tell she was purposely keeping herself busy and avoiding his questioning - and only had only filled him in a little on the situation before she got sidetracked by the local mechanic delivering her car back. There had evidently been some damage to the crystal wolf she had hanging on from her rearview mirror. She seemed quite attached to the token - and the mechanic - and Killian had to clear his throat once or twice to get her attention back.
"Do you think her boyfriend might be involved in all this?" he asked blatantly.
Ruby rose an eyebrow in a dismissive manner. "Uh, let me think: that would mean he's involved with her at all, which he isn't. He left her in the lurch, right after they found out they were expecting. Hasn't spoken to her since." She stood tall and proud, a menacing expression in her features, as if she were judging him as much as she was judging Ashley's boyfriend. "I'm pretty sure that's what you did."
The barb hit him hard in the chest, the painful memories surfacing once again. He didn't appreciate her tone - or her judgement - especially not in front of Henry, who still didn't know the circumstances that led to his adoption. Henry hadn't asked and Killian hadn't told him, and he wasn't planning to, not anytime soon. Some things were better left buried. Nevertheless, it wasn't Ruby's place to make any assumptions about him on the mere basis that she was pissed off at how her friend had been treated.
"Actually no," he said in a clipped tone, a defiant look coming to his eyes. "Not at all."
Ruby seemed to realize how her words had affected him and she gave him a sheepish smile. Killian took the chance to pressure for more information. "What about her family?"
"She has a stepmother and two stepsisters that don't speak to her. There's nothing there…" she trailed off.
"Stepmother? Stepsisters? Wait!" Henry said and Killian could spot a mile away what he was going to say next. No, the lass was not Cinderella. No bloody way.
"Not now, Henry," he commanded before he gave Ruby another pointed look.
Ruby shuffled her feet a little, genuine care and concern in her features. "I don't know what you've heard, but it's wrong. Everyone thinks she's not ready to have this kid, but she's trying. Taking night classes, trying to better herself… Trying to get her life together. Can you understand that?"
"Aye, I can," Killian sighed.
"Then maybe you should leave her alone. She's been through so much already."
"I just want to help her, Ruby," Killian pleaded and Ruby's face softened.
"Then try her ex. He lives with his dad."
Of course he does.
/-/
By the looks of the house, Sean and his family lived a comfortable life, and one more piece of the puzzle fit in Killian's mind. He knocked on the door and waited politely. A young man answered, he couldn't have been more than nineteen - much like Killian when Henry was conceived.
"Sean Herman?"
Sean nodded. "Who are you?"
"I'm Killian Jones," he introduced himself. "I'm looking for Ashley? She seems to be in quite a predicament and I thought she might have come looking for you-"
"My son doesn't have anything to do with that girl anymore," a commanding voice spoke from the entryway to the garage and Killian turned to see a man that must have been Sean's father coming their way. Well, that certainly explained a lot.
"You forced him to break up with her," Killian didn't even bother to pose it as a question, it was quite clear from where he was standing how the situation had unfolded.
"I'm not going to let my son throw away his entire life over a mistake." The man stood next to his son, drunk on his privilege and self-righteousness. It made Killian sick to his stomach to even think what Ashley might have gone through.
"And the right choice was to leave her to fend for herself?"
"What are they going to do? Raise the child in the backseat of a car?" he asked sardonically.
I'd have gladly raised mine in the back seat of the Bug if I'd had the chance.
"Some people only have that," he said feebly.
"And that's a pity on them, but I'm not letting that happen to my son. I'm protecting him. It's sad that others don't have that, but it's the way of the world."
Killian wanted to punch him. It would be so easy to clench his fist and just connect with the man's jaw, letting actions explain the frustration and rage he was feeling right now. But as mad as he was at that moment, he knew most of it had nothing to do with Sean's father. It was the memories that this was bringing to the surface, leaving him raw.
"Dad, maybe we should help him look for Ashley. If she's in danger-" Sean started, and a small flicker of hope lit in Killian, maybe not all was lost.
But it was soon put to an end by Sean's father. "It's a waste, Sean." She's a waste.
"Sean, if you want to come, come. Ashley runs away with this baby, she's going to be in some serious trouble. You should fight for what you want, lad," He pleaded, giving Sean one chance to do the right thing, his heart beating frantically in his heart. "Lad, trust me, you want to be part of this. I know I would do everything to have been able to be there for the mother of my child."
It didn't work. Sean's father ordered him inside and Sean obeyed defeatedly. Once Sean was out of earshot, his father faced Killian again, showing a little concern in his demeanor. "Believe me, if I knew where she was, I would tell you. I went to a lot of trouble to get her that deal."
"Deal? What deal?" he asked confused. No one had mentioned any deals to him.
"You don't know? Ashley agreed to give up the child. And she's being paid very well to do so," he explained, giving Killian a puzzled look.
Killian's heart dropped to pit of his stomach, leaving him almost nauseous. "She sold the baby?"
"You make it sound so crass. I found someone who's going to find that child a good and proper home. Something it wouldn't have otherwise." He sounded so sure of the choices he was making that it made Killian want to punch him again.
"Who are you to judge whether she could provide that or not?"
"Look at her. She's a teenager. She's never shown any evidence of being responsible. How could she possibly know how to be a mother?"
"You don't get to decide for her. Maybe all she needs is a chance to prove herself," Killian said, holding his ground.
"That's what everybody says and it never works out that way. It's the way life is, Mr. Jones. You should know that better than anyone, wouldn't you?" Sean's father gave him a pointed look. "I found someone who's going to pay Ashley extremely well. Someone who's going to see to it that everybody's happy."
And the final piece of the puzzle finally clicked on Killian's head. "Gold," he all but spat the name.
"Well, isn't that why you were hired? To bring him the baby?"
Bloody buggering hell.
/-/
The thoughts were tripping in his head as he drove hastily back to the diner, the picture forming in his mind as to what was happening. He wondered if this is how Emma had felt then, if she'd had people telling her she couldn't do it, that she was too young, too broken to take care of a child. He wondered if him being there next to her would have made a difference. The words from her letter still haunted him.
We can't do this, Killian. I can't do this. He deserves better than the life we can give him. He deserves better than being raised by two screw-ups who can't get it right. Let's give him the chance you and I never truly had.
He'd ceded to her wishes there, holding onto the hope that she'd been right, that their son would have a better life. But as he looked at Henry, pleading for him not to double cross Gold, a ten-year old that lived in a fantasy world and ran away from his mother any chance he got, he was starting to doubt himself.
Oh, lass, perhaps we made the biggest mistake of our lives.
He barged into the diner and confronted Ruby directly, not really in the mood to sugar-coat this any longer: he was tired, this case had gotten him way over his head and he really needed a drink - or five - right now.
"Why didn't you tell me she sold the baby?" he asked bluntly.
"Because I didn't think it was important," Ruby shrugged and moved to clear one of the tables in an attempt to dismiss him. But Killian followed her and held his ground.
"Really? Because it seems that's the reason why she's running away."
"Look, she's my friend. I don't like people judging her."
There was truth in her words, but not all of it. Killian could tell she was hiding something from him. He scanned the room, stopping short when he spotted the little crystal wolf charm resting on one of the counters. He turned to check the street and noticed that Ruby's car had disappeared.
"Ruby," he said, clenching his jaw to try to reign in his temper. "Where's your car?" Ruby's expression was all the answer he needed. "You didn't send me to Sean to help me find her, did you? You just wanted to give her a head start," he concluded.
"I'm trying to help her," Ruby insisted stubbornly, and Killian felt himself at the end of his patience.
"So do I. She's in more trouble than you think, lass and I don't want her to deal with Gold on her own," he pleaded.
Ruby hesitated, but her eyes quickly darted to Henry. "I won't talk in front of him. He's the Mayor's son."
"Hey! I'm on your side!" Henry protested but Killian knew he'd never get anything out of Ruby if Henry was still there. He gave a sign to Ruby to give him a moment alone with Henry and he crouched to meet the lad's eyes.
"Lad, I need to find Ashley. And for that to happen, you need to go home. Ruby is not going to trust me with any valuable information if you're around. Go home, please."
Henry looked at him for a brief second and then nodded. "Okay," he said and turned around. That had been too easy and part of Killian protested that it didn't seem realistic for Henry to accept his command so easily - he never had before - but at the moment he had more pressing matters to attend to, and he wasn't going to kick a gift horse in the mouth. He waited expectantly for Ruby to come back. She placed a used dish on the counter and turned to back to face him.
"She left town. Said she was going to try Boston. Thought she could disappear there."
Boston. He could track her down in Boston. It was his city after all.
"How long ago?"
"About half an hour."
/-/
He should have listened to his bloody instincts around Henry instead of accepting the lad's willingness to leave. Which had only ever been a ruse, as Henry climbed out from the trunk of the Bug and demanded to know what Ruby had said. Killian wanted to kick himself over and over. The lad was his and Emma's son, for bloody sake, of course he wouldn't listen to any order he was given and would just do whatever in the blazes he felt like doing.
He suddenly had a new respect for his late parents and every single foster family - albeit not many - that had tried to order him around and failed.
"Henry!" he admonished. "I'm going to Boston. You can't come with me."
"You can't go to Boston! She can't leave," Henry said agitated. "Bad things happen to anyone who does. It's the curse."
Bloody curse. "Lad, I don't have time to argue with you over the curse. I have to drive you home and then I need to find Ashley before she gets in more trouble than she already is!"
"We need to reach her before she gets hurt!" Henry sounded so convinced. "If you turn back to take me home, we might not make it in time. And Gold might call the police and he'll send her to jail."
The thought of Ashley giving birth in jail was too much for Killian's fragile state of mind. He'd have to deal with Regina's rage later if she ever found out about Henry going with him. "Buckle up, lad."
It didn't take them long to find the car, and Killian had to fight the sense of dread when he saw it that it was crashed in a ditch by the town sign.
"Ashley!" Killian called for her as he exited the Bug and ran towards the other car. But the lass wasn't there. "What have you done, lass?" he asked. It was then he heard the scream nearby, and he ran in the direction of the sound. He found her lying in a patch of weeds by the side of the road, taking deep, shuddering breaths.
"My baby!" she said, voice laced with pain. "It's coming!"
Brilliant.
He managed to carefully help Ashley get back into the passenger seat of her car, ushered Henry on the backseat, before they set off for the hospital.
"Breathe, lass, we'll be in the hospital in no time," he tried to offer soothing words, but it only seemed to agitate Ashley even more.
"No! Please! Take me to Boston, I can't go back there."
"I don't think we have the time to make it to Boston, Ashley," he said. He didn't have much experience in the matter, but it did seem like the baby was coming now.
"He's going to take my baby," Ashley sobbed in between contractions and Killian's heart went out to her.
"I won't let them take that baby away from you if you want it," he said fervently, his eyes fixated on the road, trying to make up now for the mistakes of his past. "If you keep it, are you ready? If -" his voice broke and he wished Henry weren't there to see him admit to his own shortcomings. "I know I wasn't, and neither was Henry's mother. If you want to give the child its best chance, you have to be ready. The baby will need someone that is ready, someone who accepts that their whole life is going to change, and that they can't never - ever - leave. No more running. Time to grow up." He looked back at Ashley in the rearview, waiting for his words to sink in and giving her time to ponder them.
"I'm ready," she said finally, her tone determined. "I want my baby."
Aye, and I'll make sure you'll have it.
/-/
Killian paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room, running his hand through his hair. He'd offered wondered who - if anyone - had driven Emma to the hospital. If someone had held her hand as she went through labor. Told her she was bloody brilliant and she could do anything.
If someone had been for her in all the ways he couldn't.
"You know," Henry's voice took him out of his own head - he'd been doing that a lot lately - and made him stop. "You're different."
"I am?" he asked with confusion.
"You're the only one who could do it," he offered whimsically.
"Break the curse? You keep telling me that. I'm aware, lad," Killian sighed.
Henry shook his head. "No, leave. You're the only one that can leave Storybrooke." He seemed so small and insecure when he pronounced the words.
Killian crouched to his eye-level and gave him a small smile. "You came to Boston looking for me, lad."
"But I came back. I had to. I'm ten," he pointed out. "But if anyone else tries to leave, bad things happen to them."
There was something else hidden in there and Killian was starting to read between the lines. "Anyone but me?"
"You're the savior, Killian. You can do anything you want," his voice was broken with despair. "You can leave Storybrooke," he finished shyly but Killian could hear the words he didn't say.
You can leave me.
He was about to speak, trying to figure out how to address the fear he saw in Henry's eyes -a fear that was so familiar to him, the one that had been with him for his entire life- when one of the doctors approached him. He quickly stood up.
"Mr. Jones, the baby is a healthy six-pound girl and the mother is doing fine," the doctor confirmed.
The small relief he'd felt soon vanished when he saw Mr. Gold round the corner, the tap of his cane marking his approach.
"What lovely news. Excellent work, Mr. Jones," he said in a voice that was dark and made a shiver ran down Killian's spine. "Thank you for bringing me my merchandise."
He couldn't believe a baby was being referred in such terms. He should have known better, as most of his life he'd been treated as a nuisance, an object, nothing but a number, a case to address. It hurt then - it still hurt now - and he refused to treat another child like that. "A baby. Your merchandise… You should have told me."
"You didn't need to know at the time," Gold replied smugly.
"Perhaps you feared I wouldn't have taken the case?" He would have anyway, if not for Gold, just to try to help the poor girl.
"On the contrary," the other man pointed out, circling the waiting room with his steps, the cane making a metallic sound against the floor, "I thought it would be more effective if you found out yourself. After seeing Ashley's hard life, I thought it would make sense. Do you? I mean, if anyone could understand the reasons behind consenting to give up a baby, I assumed it would be you."
He really didn't want to have this conversation near Henry. He knew how fragile Henry's state already was, their most recent conversation just now revealing a whole new layer of fears the lad held, and Killian wanted to spare the child this ordeal. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with Henry. He wasn't ready to have it. But what was done was done and he needed to focus on what he could try to fix.
"You're not getting your hands on that infant," he insisted.
"We have an agreement and my agreements are always honored. If not, I'll involve the police and that baby ends up in the system. Which would be a pity, don't you think? You didn't enjoy your time in the system, did you, Mr. Jones?" There was something really dark in that man, something that made Killian want to recoil, but he knew he couldn't. If he didn't protect Ashley and her baby now, no one would. She'd lose her baby girl. She'd lose hope. He had lost hope years ago but he'll be damned if he let someone else lose it when he could have prevented it.
"It's not going to happen," he stated.
"I like your confidence. Charming," Gold said, his eyebrow raising on the last word. "But I'll press charges for her breaking into my shop," he threatened with a polite smile.
Killian didn't balk. "Probably to steal the contract, right?"
Gold shrugged, "Who knows?"
Killian tilted his head. He hated men like Gold. He really did. They were the embodiment of everything he despised growing up, of every bully that had taken advantage of someone that was in a lesser position. Of everyone that exerted their powerful position to reap another benefit they didn't need instead of reaching out a hand to help.
"No jury in the world will put a woman in jail whose only reason for breaking and entering was to keep her child." He spoke loud and clear, with a confidence he didn't quite have but he needed to muster anyway. "I'm willing to roll the dice that contract doesn't hold up. Are you?" He let the words sink in for a moment before he delivered the final blow. "Not to mention what might come out about you in the process. Somehow, I suspect, there is more to you than a simple pawnbroker. You really want to start that fight?"
He braced himself for Gold's angry retort, but the man only gave him a condescending smile. "You're good at this, Mr. Jones. I like it. You're not afraid of me."
Killian shrugged, "Why would I be?"
"That's either cocky or presumptuous. Either way, I'd rather have you on my side," Gold finished with a shrug of his own.
"So she can keep the baby?" Killian was quite sure it wouldn't be that easy and Gold's face confirmed that for him.
"Not just yet. There's still the matter of my agreement with Miss Boyd."
"Break the contract."
"That's not what I do." Aye, there was definitely something sinister in Gold. "You see, contracts – deals – well, they're the very foundation of all civilized existence." Gold slowly approach Killian. "So, I put it to you now. If you want Ashley to have that baby, are you willing to make a deal with me?"
Killian clenched his jaw. "What do you want?"
"Oh, I don't know just yet." The man certainly had a taste for dramatics. "You'll owe me a favor."
Every fiber of his being rebelled against the words. He knew it was a bad idea. But he had no choice. Ashley had no other choice.
"Deal," he said, reaching over to shake Gold's hand.
/-/
Killian and Henry made their way into Ashley's hospital room. She was rocking a tiny little bundle in her arms and she looked tired but happy. Killian's heart broke again, going back to the moment he'd missed in his own life. His hand went absentmindedly to ruffle Henry's hair, his throat suddenly dry.
"What's her name?" he asked in a strained voice, trying to muster a smile.
"Alexandra."
"A name fit for a princess," Killian said, the smile coming easier to his lips as he witnessed Ashley's smile down at her child.
"Thank you for getting me here," she said sincerely, her eyes meeting his.
Killian shrugged dismissively, "It was nothing, lass." He took a deep breath, tilting his head. "Gold was outside." He noticed her eyes widening in fear and he hurried his next words. "I took care of it. She's yours to keep - and raise."
"She is?" she asked in disbelief and Killian nodded. "What did you do?"
"Made a deal meself. Doesn't really matter, love. You have the chance you wanted."
You have the chance Emma and I never got.
"Thank you," Ashley said, emotion in her voice and the tears coming to her eyes and Killian simple swallowed. He wanted to stay, grab that little baby in his arms and pretend for a moment that the time had gone back a decade and he was welcoming his own child to the world.
But history couldn't be changed. There was no magical pen to rewrite a different tale. He'd missed his chance. This wasn't his chance, this wasn't his family. This was someone else's chance and he could only hope he'd take it.
He tugged Henry's jacket sleeve, bringing his attention to him. "Come on, lad, we have to get you home."
The fact that he and Henry ran into Sean coming in while leaving the hospital made Killian think that perhaps this story would have a happy ending.
/-/
It was still a few minutes before the clock struck five o'clock when Killian pulled up outside Regina's front gate. The lad had been quiet during the drive and Killian could sense that the events of the day had gotten to him. He took a deep breath as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out the photograph he kept there. The edges were a little faded, but it was still in good shape. He'd taken good care of it for a decade, and it was one of his most prized possessions.
"Here," he said, handing it over to Henry. "I don't have much from your mo- from Emma, but I have this."
Henry took the picture, his eyes drinking in the image. "Is that her? And you?"
"Aye," he said as he took one last look at the snapshot of him and Emma from his eighteenth birthday. Her blacked rimmed glasses hanging a little low on the bridge of her nose, her eyes looking at him with nothing but love and hope. Gods, he'd loved her so much.
He still loved her so much.
"Hook," Killian said suddenly and Henry tore his eyes away from the picture to give him a quizzical look. "My code name can be Hook. That- that's what your mother used to call me." He smiled as the memories came to him, hitting him like a wave.
She'd been his everything.
He knew it had been a terrible idea to come to this side of the town. The docks has always been shady and at this hour even more. He'd wanted to come alone, but Emma had insisted on coming with him, determined to listen what August had to say.
But August had never showed up and on their way back to the Bug, a couple of men had come for them. One had grabbed Emma and the other had tried to restrain him. Killian couldn't remember much more than that, other than the blind rage that had welled up in him at the mere idea of Emma getting hurt. His hands searched frantically for anything he could leverage against the attackers and that was when he'd felt his fingers grasp cold metal. He'd grabbed the tool and simply swung it back and forth, slicing the man's arm. In the meantime, Emma had already broken free and was leveraging a wood plank for her defense - she was a tough lass, after all.
The men had decided to retreat and soon Killian was pulling Emma in his arms, frantically asking if she was okay. She'd nodded, sinking into his arms a little further.
It could have been hours, but it was probably a few minutes by the time they pulled apart. Her hand held his wrist and she examined the hook he was still holding in his hand.
"A hook? Really?," she'd asked in disbelief. "What are you, a pirate?"
"It was the first thing I could grab," he'd said sheepishly.
"It suits you," she tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'd think that is what I'm calling you from now on: Hook."
"Why did she call you that?" Henry asked eagerly.
Killian swallowed loudly, trying to find a way out of that question. He didn't want to lie to Henry, but the truth was a little too dark for his taste. In the end, he settled for a sanitized version of the truth that wouldn't betray the spirit of what he and Emma were.
"Some nonsensical things about us being like pirates, living by our code or something," he said.
Henry nodded, his eyes studying the picture again before he motioned to give it back to Killian.
"Keep it," he said. "I want you to have it."
"Thanks," Henry said, his hands holding the picture as if it were a treasure. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked hopefully as he exited the car.
"Aye," Killian confirmed. "I'll see you tomorrow," son. He finished the sentence in his head as he witnessed Henry make his way into the house. He put the car in gear and left, driving the few blocks until he arrived outside the loft's building. He grabbed his phone and took out the card he'd been given. His fingers fidgeted a second before he dialed the number.
"Hello?"
"Sheriff Humbert, I was wondering, is the job offer still open?"
"You can call me Graham and yes, it is."
"Is Regina going to be okay with this?
"My department, my choice. I'll see you Monday morning."
"Please don't tell me I'm on doughnut duty…" he joked and Graham chuckled. "See you on Monday, Sheriff."
He disconnected the called and exhaled deeply.
Killian Jones, Deputy. That would be a thing to see. Emma could probably had a field day with that - if she ever knew about it.
He sighed, dragging himself towards the loft, the prospect of a night in a comfortable bed and the hope to keep the memories at bay.
But he knew the second part was only wishful thinking.