A/N: So I hadnt anticipated writing a second part to this, but a little nonnie bird chirped that they'd like to see a post-election reaction from CS, so here it is. It may not have been what they were looking for, but given my feelings and mental state in the wake of the election, this is what I've got.
Emma turned the tv off and stood up without a word, leaving Killian gawking after her from the couch as she walked silently towards the stairs.
"Swan?" he called out, careful to keep his voice low so he didn't wake Henry, who had gone to bed nearly three hours earlier. "Don't you want to see how it ends?"
Emma stopped, her right foot resting on the bottom step and her fingers tightening around the banister.
"No," she whispered, barely audible, without turning around.
Another second passed before she moved again, climbing the stairs at a pace that spoke of bone weariness and the weight of the world pressing down upon the shoulder blades. Killian watched her go and waited long enough to be sure that Emma had made it to their bedroom before he reached over to the coffee table and picked up the remote, powering on the tv. He simply couldn't accept it, not yet. There were still more states whose votes needed to be counted, things could still change, they could still stop this madness.
Yet another state blinked red, and another, and another after that, until the little red bar next to the madman's name had moved past the blank line indicating the halfway point. The broadcasters on tv officially declared him the winner, and cut to a shot of him looking for a the world like a man whose bluff had just been called in the most public way possible. Killian turned the tv off and leaned back against the cushions, his heart slowly filling with lead. How could so many people have done this? How could an entire country be okay with a man who felt that anyone who was not exactly like him was inferior? Killian had occasionally thought about the prospect of having a child with Emma, but for the first time ever, he was not made happy by the vision of a little girl with jet black hair and bright green eyes. Tonight, he imagined himself, sitting with his daughter on his lap, having to explain to her that half of the world saw her as less than human, simply because of her gender.
Worry creased his brow as he considered what might happen to Storybrooke under this new regime. Magic, in the hands of this demon. Werewolves and mermaids executed or studied for being different. Would it be better for them to return to the Enchanted Forest? His instinct was to flee – everything about the man screamed "danger", and yet Killian had never been one to run. His fight-or-flight instinct drove him to fight, every single time, had led to countless punches being landed on someone's face and more than one dagger sunk into someone's flesh. But this was not a fight that he could win by punching or stabbing, this was a fight that required so much more, and he was not sure he was up to the challenge. He felt the weariness that had made Emma's frame sag start to weigh on his own shoulders.
Slowly, Killian stood from the couch and walked toward the stairs, climbing his way to the top. He pushed the door to the bedroom that he and Emma shared open and stepped inside, closing it silently behind him. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Emma lying flat on her back, hands folded across her chest, and instantly knew she was awake, not least because she was strictly a curled-up-in-a-ball-on-her-side sleeper.
"What do we do now?" he whispered, as he slipped under the covers next to her and settled on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling.
"We could leave," Emma answered, turning her head a fraction of an inch toward Killian. "We could gather up the whole town and take the Jolly back through a portal to the Enchanted Forest. We could take back my parents' kingdom and rebuild the damage from the curse and we could be safe and happy. Or we could put up a protection spell around the town, we could build a wall of magic to keep them out and make sure that we're safe."
Killian knew as she was saying these things that they could not do either of them, and from the tone in her voice, it was clear that she knew it too.
"It wouldn't be right," he replied, turning to look at her, and he saw tears making her eyes shine in the moonlight. He had an odd thought in that moment, that something that was a mark of sadness could be so beautiful. It almost made him feel hopeful.
"No, it wouldn't," she agreed. "There are people out there who are going to need protecting, people who are going to be in danger because of what he wants to do, because of the things he's said. And they can't leave, they can't just pick up and go to the Enchanted Forest like we can. There are women and minorities and non-heterosexual people and disabled individuals who are going to need people to fight with them and to fight for them against all the hatred and the fear that's out there. He can't win, he just can't. I mean, I know he won the election, but he can't win control over our hearts. He can't win power over our minds."
"So we stay and fight," Killian stated.
"We stay and fight."
