AUTHORS NOTE: I'm really sorry about the long wait guys but school started and I've been just really overwhelmed and then once I was finally free my friend decided to that she wanted to go camping and invited me (such a bad idea) and then I got sick. So to make up for that this chapter will be extra-long, and will feature more family moments, and there's also a surprise coming from Leo!
TRIGGER WARNING: Sensitive situations that could trigger traumatic memories will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKEKEKEK
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Killian walked away from the hospital with a smug grin on his face, choosing to ignore the knot of dread that was making itself known in the pit of his stomach. He cleared his mind, focused on taking deep breaths, keeping his heart beat steady, and walked. He was aware of the man following behind him, and he definitely noticed when the other set of footsteps started to accelerate when he turned a corner. A sigh escaped his lips, and he pressed himself up against the wall, disappearing into the shadows. The follower rounded the bend, and stopped, wearing what was surely a very confused expression, even though Killian couldn't really make it out, as his features were obscured by the gray hoodie pulled up to cover his face. The mystery man, who wasn't really all that of a mystery, walked slowly down the sidewalk that Killian had been on seconds earlier, surveying his surroundings carefully. But he wasn't careful enough. As he walked past, Killian took advantage of the unguarded moment to strike out, kicking the man in the back of the legs with as much force as he could muster. The hooded man went down, only letting out a small groan of pain. Killian was on top of him in an instant, flipping him over onto his back, and straddling him, effectively using his legs to pin the man's arms to his sides, and using his weight to keep him on the ground.
"Neal Cassidy. What a surprise," Killian snarled. He raised his fist, and swung it towards the face of the man who had beaten Emma, toyed with her mind, broken her spirit. It collided with his face with a sickening, but satisfying crunch. He pulled back to take another swing, his eyes narrowed.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now," Killian whispered, his voice low and menacing.
"Because I know the truth," Cassidy responded, his voice trembling only slightly.
"Oh? And what would that be?" Killian mocked. Neal glared up at his attacker, and his eyes burned with hatred, second only to the inferno that swirled inside of Killian, threatening to break free at any moment.
"You're a coward," Neal spat. A mixture of blood and saliva flew from Cassidy's mouth, hitting Killian in the eye. Killian raised his left arm, the one with the hook, and wiped at his eye with his sleeve. In the blink of an eye, his hook was imbedded in Neal's shoulder. The wounded man's scream was cut off by Killian's good hand covering his mouth.
"Only a coward would beat the mother of his child," Killian hissed, punctuating the last syllable with a twist of his hook. Cassidy's muffled screams grew only louder as Killian went on. "Only a coward handcuffs a woman to a radiator and kicks her, and hits her." A fist collided with Cassidy's jaw. "Only a coward manipulates the woman he claims to love into thinking that she deserves the punishment that he inflicts on her." Killian ripped his hook out of the man's shoulder, and trails the sharp edge down the side of his face, leaving a deep gash that oozed blood down his profile, and collected on the asphalt beneath him. "You are a coward Neal Cassidy, and if I ever see you near Emma, or her child, or anybody close to them, I will end you." With a final blow to the side of the head, Cassidy was unconscious. Killian stood up, panting. He grabbed at a bit of Cassidy's already blood stained shirt, and used it to clean the gore off of his hook. He turned to walk away, but stopped, looking back at the battered body. Bloody Hell. Killian thought grumpily. I guess I'll have to take him with me. Bending down, and grabbing the man by the waist, he lifted him up, and swung him over his shoulder, and proceeded down main street, back towards the hospital.
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Mary Margaret paced the waiting room anxiously, awaiting news of the young woman and her child, whom had entered surgery about an hour ago. Attempting to distract herself with magazines, and boring, late night TV, her thoughts wandered, straying to the earlier episode that had unfolded as Emma had been admitted into the hospital. Neal Cassidy had showed, calling for Emma, claiming her as his, and she had thoughtlessly attacked him with her words, even knowing what she did about the man. She was thankful that David stood up for her, even though she wasn't sure why he had been so fiercely protective. She was also thankful that Killian had showed when she did, though she was slightly appalled at his rash actions, thought she really shouldn't have been surprised. As much as a troublemaker the young man was, he had always been a bit of a vigilante, protecting those that couldn't protect themselves. No one knew why he did what he did, and Mary Margaret could only imagine the reasons behind his behavior. Her mind turned back to David, who had held her as she wept, and hurried off to collect the children from the home once she had gotten control of her emotions. She was brought back to earth by the sound of the automatic doors opening, and the patter of several pairs off footsteps hurrying towards her.
"Mary Margaret!" Neal and Grace chorused, striding in her direction, followed closely by an as always stoney faced Leo, and David, who seemed to be holding himself together, but just barely, acting as the rock for everyone else who needed him. Her attention turned to a teary faced Grace who was frantically assaulting her with questions.
"What's wrong with Emma? What happened? Where is she? How is she? How is the baby? Where is Killian? Does the father know?" she gasped, all in one breath. She collapsed in a fit of sobs, leaning against Neal, who wrapped his arms around her, cooing soft words of reassurance in her ear. Mary Margaret took a deep breath, simultaneously pulling Leo onto her lap as she did so. David slid into the chair next to her, and took her right hand in his left. His presence calmed her. It always did, for some odd reason. She swept her thumb across his hand, pausing when she came to the cold metal of his wedding band, which still sat firmly on his ring finger. She pulled away quickly, wrapping both hands around Leo's tiny waist, and ignoring the brief flash of hurt that crossed David's face.
"We don't know what's wrong with Emma," Mary Margaret began. "The most we can tell is that something caused the baby to go into distress, which hurt both it, and Emma. They're in surgery now, trying to make Emma better, and keep the baby from coming."
"Why can't they just get it out of her?" Neal interjected angrily. Leo jumped of off Mary Margaret's lap, and went to join Neal, who's features relaxed the instant he touched his baby brother.
"It's too early," Mary Margaret explained. "The baby isn't developed enough to leave Emma's body." Neal nodded his understanding, and Grace asked again, "Where is Killian? Does the baby's father know what happened?" Mary Margaret opened her mouth to reply, but shut it in surprise as David answered the question.
"The baby's father does know. I'm not sure how he found out, but he got here almost immediately after Emma did. He started making noise, and throwing his weight around, trying to get in to see Emma, but they wouldn't let him. He got upset and started talking about how Emma was 'his' and crap like that. Mary Margaret yelled at him, and he turned on her, and then me, and I guess Killian had had enough, because he decked him. They both got thrown out," David spelled out. Neal smirked a little bit at that.
"Go Killian," he chuckled. Grace punched him on the shoulder, but she couldn't suppress a small laugh either. They sat in silence for a while, watching the home improvement channel, but not really watching, waiting for news of Emma and the baby's condition. A quarter of an hour passed, before the small, weary group heard the automatic doors open again. Their heads swiveled automatically towards the culprit, and their mouths dropped open as Killian strode in confidently, a body swung across his shoulders casually. He grunted with effort as he slid the person off of his shoulders, dumping them into a heap on the floor.
"Excuse me!" he called, looking in the general direction of the reception desk. "I believe this man needs medical attention!" He looked around the waiting room, his eyes stopping at the rather haggard looking band of people staring at him with varied expressions of confusion, surprise, and awe on their faces. He winked at them, before turning on his heel and walking out, just as the nurses swarmed the present he had left behind for them.
"Where do you think he's going now?" Neal pondered aloud. David sighed.
"If he's smart, he'll probably go to the police station and turn himself in," he said.
"How do you know he even did anything wrong?" Mary Margaret asked him testily.
"The look on his face," David replied, effectively shutting down any further comments from Mary Margaret, or the teenagers.
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Killian left the hospital for what he thought was the final time that night, and headed off towards the police station, knowing that Graham would probably meet him halfway. He walked in the middle of the street, too tired to care, to lost in his thoughts to even notice. What if she doesn't come out of surgery okay? He thought. What if she loses the baby? And one of the most horrifying ideas of them all, what if I killed that man? He was shaken out of his thoughts by the painful screech of a speeding car slamming on its breaks, followed by pain, intense, indescribable pain.
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"Oh how wonderful, a visit from both of you in one night," a voice closely resembling his own said. Killian made a weak attempt to pry his eyes open, but found them glued shut.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said groggily. The man chuckled.
"Oh Killy, you will though," he laughed.
"Don't call me that," Killian groaned. The voice only laughed more.
"Forces unknown, continue to fight Killian. It is inevitable, but you have to remember, the book never lies," It said.
"What in the seven hells are you bloody talking about?" Killian questioned, his head pounding, his body aching all over, particularly in his abdominal region. A low chuckle resonated all around him, consuming his thoughts.
"Goodbye Killian. Hope to see you soon," the voice said.
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Doctor Whale strode into the waiting room, with a grimace on his face. David, Mary Margaret, Neal, Grace, and even Leo, all sprang up from their seats once they lay eyes on him. He kneaded the back of his neck, and looked at the raggedy band of people with a solemn expression.
"She's—She's in labor," he stated. A breath that they hadn't realized they were holding, was released collectively by the group. Then, Mary Margaret straightened up, looking the doctor in the eye, and said, "She needs someone in there with her." The doctor eyed the small woman warily, but nodded his agreement.
"Are you sure you're up for it?" David whispered in her ear quietly. Mary Margaret glared at him, not liking the way her feelings for the man messed with her morals, and replied spitefully, "It's not like you can do it." She followed the doctor through the heavy metal doors, and with a heavy heart, and a decision to be made, David watched her go.
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"You need to push Emma!" Mary Margaret encouraged the young woman. "The baby needs to come out!" The girl lying on the bed screamed in agony, but she heeded the older woman's advice and pushed.
"One more time! You can do this, just hold onto my hand!" Mary Margaret cried. Emma looked up into the eyes of the woman who helped her through so much, and was helping her through one of the biggest moments in her life, and she pushed, screaming any curse word she could think of. She cried in pain, and then together, the women cried in relief as they heard a very small, but very powerful voice chorus with theirs.
"Congratulations Emma, it's a boy," Doctor Whale laughed, placing the tiny baby in the woman's arms. "You can hold him for a while, but he's premature, so he's gonna' need some special treatment." Emma nodded her understanding, and the medical staff left, leaving only Mary Margaret, Emma, and the baby. Emma looked up at Mary Margaret again, fresh tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes.
"I—I don't know if I can be a mother," she whimpered, and Mary Margaret's heart broke.
"Emma, I think you would be the best mother a child could ask for," she replied, her voice cracking. Emma sniffled, and nodded, a smile breaking out on her face as she looked at the tiny child in her arms.
"He's got a full head of hair," she giggled. "His father's hair was never that dark." Mary Margaret turned her eyes to the boy, noticing the features he shared with Emma, but none he shared with his father.
"You're right, it's almost tinged red," she added. While the women stared at the baby, a young resident knocked on the door. Mary Margaret invited her in, and she entered, coming to a standstill at the foot of Emma's hospital bed, standing a little awkwardly.
"Uh—Hi—I mean, congratulations—Uh—I'm here to take your baby to make sure he's fully developed and to give him all his shots and stuff," she stuttered. Emma grinned and handed over her boy as best she could, with still only one fully functioning arm. The student held him in a way only a medical professional can do. She paused on her way out the door, to read her pager. Hit and run off of Main Street. Male, two-one, several broken bones, head trauma, and possible internal bleeding. Ambulance en-route. The resident hurried off down the hall.
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After Emma got a few hours of sleep, and bonded with her baby a little bit, she was allowed visitors. Of course, the first people she saw, were Mary Margaret, David, Grace, Neal, and Leo. The teens were excited to see her, and the baby, and calmed only when David gave them what Emma had come to call 'the look'. Leo just stood close to her on the left side of the bed, his gaze never leaving the newborn. The rest of the group sat and chatted. Those that were allowed to, guzzled coffee and hot chocolate and scones from Starbucks, earning a glare eerily similar to David's from Emma. When visiting time was over, the teenagers said their goodbyes, and were herded out the door by the adults, who promised to bring them by every day until her and the babe were released.
"Come on Leo it's time to go," Mary Margaret said to the young boy. He refused to move, his blue eyes icy, and his jaw set stubbornly in an oddly familiar way. It was almost like they had seen it before, in an older version of the boy.
"Leo, it's time to let Emma rest," Mary Margaret tried, but he didn't move a muscle.
"Mary it's okay, really," Emma said to the obviously stressed woman. "Go home, drink a glass of red wine, have a bubble bath or something. The kid can stay with me and…the kid." Mary Margaret eyed Emma suspiciously, like she expected her to be up to something.
"You sure?" she asked.
"I'm sure," Emma clarified. Mary Margaret glanced back at them one more time, her gaze lingering on the young boy, and the older girl—no—woman. Struck by a sudden sense of déjà vu, she nodded her head, and left them to their own devices. Emma turned to Leo.
"So kid, whadya wanna do?" she inquired. Leo looked from Emma's face, to that of her baby, and back to Emma, his eyebrows raised.
"You wanna hold him?" Emma inferred. Leo nodded acquiesce, and held out his hands, mimicking the way Emma was cradling the baby. Gently, Emma placed the baby in his outstretched arms.
"That's a good job. Now hold him close to your torso. Yeah! Just like that!" she directed. Leo followed her directions to a tee, bouncing ever so slightly, to keep the baby calm and relaxed. Emma watched, mystified by the sight. She was shaken out of her reverie by an unfamiliar voice, gravelly and strained with disuse.
"What are you going to name him?" Leo asked quietly, so quiet that Emma almost didn't hear him. Her eyes widened at the revelation that he was actually talking, to her of all people. The boy that hadn't spoken in the eight years that he had walked the earth, was talking to her, Emma Ruth Swan.
"Uh, I don't really know," she said weakly, looking at the boy in a whole new light. Leo looked back at her, wearing the same expression he wore all the time.
"Yes you do. You're lying," he stated nonchalantly, his voice rising slightly in volume as he gained confidence. A fresh wave of surprise washed over the girl because, come on, she was the only person who could do that.
"Uh, I think I'm gonna name him Liam. Liam Henry Swan," she pronounced. A new sound came out of Leo's mouth, something akin to a chuckle. "What? You don't like it?" Emma asked, slightly embarrassed.
"No, it's not that," Leo claimed. "It's fitting actually."
"Then why'd you laugh?" Emma asked indignantly.
"I just can't believe that you haven't remembered yet. You always were the strongest of us all."