6.
NOW
Robin Locksley is a simple man with simple needs: good beer, good music, and a good woman, and right now all of those needs are being met.
He reaches for his phone, skips forward to the next track. The soothing guitars of Fleet Foxes starts to flood the living room and he leans back, closes his eyes.
"I was enjoying that last one," Regina chides, sinking down onto the couch next to him. "Why change it?" She holds out a beer with a smile, and he takes it from her, bringing the bottle up to his lips to take a sip.
"Felt like it," he tells her, and Regina shakes her head. She throws her legs over his and he pulls her closer, pressing a kiss into the corner of her mouth. She angles her head, hold her own beer out towards him.
"To the sexiest future high school agriculture teacher I know," Regina tells him. "Congrats on finally getting that major changed. What is this, your fifth?" she teases him, and he loves her for it.
"Sixth," he corrects her, taking another sip of his beer and running his hand up and down the length of her thigh. "I can't help it – I think I like kids," he tells her, pleased by the smile that she gives him in response (he sometimes thinks about a future, including about children, with Regina – children with big brown eyes and curly brown hair - )
Robin has known Regina since both were freshmen stumbling into the college radio station, clueless and eager for their own shows. They were trained together, they may have hooked up sometime around the end of that year (even though he was scared shitless of her back then – her hair was dark purple and she wore combat boots instead of heels) but it took another two years and both of them being on the radio station's board of directors for the acquaintance-ship to become a friendship to become a relationship. He can't remember a time before her; she's become such an important part of his life and he wouldn't trade her for all the beer in England.
His thoughts drift to Killian. He wants his friend to be happy more than anything else, but the entire situation with Emma doesn't sit right with him (seriously, how can a man who fled his country because he fought against the machine be hooking up with the person who symbolizes all that he despises? Or maybe he just likes to rant against the government when he's drunk, like most college students. Complicated man, his roommate).
The door opens and then slams shut, and Regina looks over, surprised. Robin watches her, calling out to Killian, "Grab a beer and join us – I just changed majors again!" but Regina is looking towards the kitchen strangely, a frown forming on her face and that worries him. He scoots himself up, looking over the sofa cushions, to find Killian searching through the kitchen cabinets.
"What are you looking for?" he calls out as Regina slips off his lap. Killian ducks down to root through the lower cabinets, and finally there is a cry of victory (a bitter one, full of pain and Regina is looking at Robin like he should have an idea about what is going on and oh fuck –)
Killian holds the rum bottle aloft as he stands up. He is drenched - it must have started to rain since they got home – but that doesn't seem to bother him as he points the bottle towards Robin.
"Cheers, mate," Killian says, as he takes a swig of rum. His face twists into a grimace, and Robin hesitates. He knows what's coming next, and he's dreading it.
"Cheers to what?" Regina asks before Robin can say anything and he wants to tell her to be quiet, to let Killian drink until he passes out, but she insists.
Killian slams the bottle of rum down on the countertop. "I told Emma everything, and she told me to go."
Regina scrambles off the couch and is immediately in the kitchen fluttering around Killian, and Robin can hear bits and pieces of the conversation as he slumps back onto the couch cushions with a sigh – things like "What do you mean by 'everything'?" and "Oh my god, you're soaking wet – go in and change right now." (Robin hears a muffled 'yes mum' from Killian before Regina's huffing drowns it out).
"What's going on?" Regina turns back to him and asks, hands on her hips next to the couch. "What's going on with Killian and Emma?"
Robin rests his head on the back cushion, glancing up at his girlfriend. "It's a long story – "
"Don't tell me it's not your story – I'm not in the mood for some bro-code bullshit. I endured a ridiculous interview last week with Emma's handlers – I need to know what I've gotten myself into." Regina is starting to build herself up into a frenzy, but before Robin can even begin to calm her down Killian has emerged, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, wet hair curling against his forehead as it dries. The bottle of rum is in his hands and he takes a long drink from it before setting it on the coffee table.
"You're right," he tells her, sinking into the armchair across from Robin. "You have every right to know what I dragged you all into – what I dragged Emma into – though I don't think Thanksgiving matters much anymore."
Regina turns to look at Killian, who looks absolutely miserable, and back at Robin before rolling her eyes. "I'm ordering pizza," she says, heading back into the kitchen.
Robin leans forward. "So what happened, exactly?" He might not like this situation with Emma, but he likes Killian, and this is not Killian going on a bender because it's the anniversary of his brother's death, or Killian having dreams about Milah. This is not the past, but very much the present, and if Robin can do something to ease his mate's troubled mind, he will do it.
Killian shrugs, and Robin can see the hurt in his eyes. He's trying to act like it doesn't matter but it's obvious by the excessive wideness of his smile and the way that he holds himself. "I did what you said. I decided to try to live out my brother's motto."
"I take it that didn't go too well, did it?" Robin asks, already knowing the answer. Killian shakes his head.
"No, mate, it did not."
…
THEN
Killian frowns at his phone.
"What's wrong?" Robin asks, walking by him on his way into the kitchen. Killian leans back against the wall.
"Nothing just – I thought Emma and I were going to grab lunch." He pauses, and Robin jumps in.
"But?" Robin riffles through the cabinet, looking for cereal, completely unconcerned about any of this. Killian can't blame him. It sounds like a simple mistake.
He shakes his head. There's a weird feeling in his gut that he's not sure he can communicate, not in any way that makes sense – just instinctual, like animals sensing a storm still hours away. He can feel something coming, something bad. "But I just texted her to see what she wanted to eat and she told me that she was going out with her roommates."
Killian pulls up his calendar app, double-checks – yep, Sunday, they had plans. The habit of meeting for lunch on Sunday was the first established when they started seeing each other, since the college dining halls only served two meals that day and Emma liked to sleep in past breakfast. It was Emma who took his phone and put Lunch with EMMA 3 as an appointment every Sunday until the end of time (not that it mattered, he would always choose her over everything else).
"Maybe you just forgot? You've been busy with the band and school," Robin points out, pulling a gallon of milk out of the fridge. Killian watches as he fills a cereal bowl, holding the cereal box up and shaking it. "Cocoa Pebbles?" his roommate asks.
Killian shakes his head. "Not hungry," he says, because there is a feeling of dread slowly building inside of him. He hasn't told Robin that this is the second date this week that Emma has canceled (because that's what it is, right? This is totally a cancellation). That, coupled with seeing Graham in the food court last week, is making him feel uneasy, like people are talking about him behind his back (and for all he knows, they very well might be since there is much to talk about).
Robin takes a bite of his cereal. "Maybe her roommates complained that she was always over here," he offers. "You know how girls get." But Killian can't buy that answer any more than he can buy Emma's excuse for Friday night, which was that she 'just forgot' and made other plans with Belle.
Something is up. He knows it.
"Did I tell you I ran into an old army buddy last week?" Killian asks, pulling up a stool and sitting at the counter. Robin chews and swallows, putting his cereal bowl down.
"You didn't." He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the stove. "What, pray tell, might an army buddy from that backwater European country you call home be doing here?"
Killian places his phone on the counter, spins it around. "He's part of Emma's security team."
"Oh." Robin doesn't sound too impressed by this information.
Killian takes a deep breath. "He knew me at the time my brother died."
"Oh." Killian looks up to see Robin staring at him with a concerned look on his face. "Do you think he told – "
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Killian admits. He wipes his hand across his eyes, sighing. "I don't think Graham would do it intentionally, but he always had the worst poker face and I'm afraid with Emma…"
He's afraid that someone else is telling Emma about one of the worst times in his life, when he was a drunken mess shouting obscenities at his superior officers and rattling off conspiracy theories to anyone who would listen. He's afraid that if she hears it from someone other than him, that she won't be happy and she certainly won't forgive his lies and he takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly.
He's been with Emma long enough to know that honesty is what she cares about most, and with good reason; he's read the tabloids, seen the way that someone in Emma's position can get dragged through the press, and any affiliation with him could be harmful to her and her reputation. Not to mention, of course, that she'll never trust him again (his palms are sweaty as the fear grows and he can almost feel everything slipping through his fingers).
Robin presses his lips into a line, and Killian knows his roommate well enough to anticipate the next comment. "Maybe you shouldn't have gotten involved with her, Killian. She's the Crown Princess – "
"Don't you think I know that?" The anger and frustration building up inside of him since Friday bursts out of his mouth, and Killian doesn't feel sorry about it being directed at Robin. Robin has always made his concern known (albeit quietly) but this is not what he needs, not right now. "Don't you think I've been well aware of that since the moment she told me who she was? Don't you think I feel guilty for even being near her with all that I've done?" His voice cracks and he buries his head in his hands. "I should have said goodbye to her that night - it should never have come to this."
This being that he loves her, or he thinks he does.
Killian's been in love before, with Milah, but this is different. Milah was different – harsh edges and brutal honesty in the way that Emma is soft smiles and eager kisses. It's different, too, in how he feels (and how he felt) with them. With Milah, he was broken and battered, but while she made him a man, she did not force his hand or his decisions; he was already lost when he met her and so he tumbled down with her into a pit of despair. With Emma, it feels like he has found himself again - found the person that Liam knew and loved, not the wreck that was left behind, and he wants that so badly that he can taste it. He wants her, because he does – because she gets him in a way he feels very few do. Every day away from Emma is like the loss of a limb, she's so much a part of him now, and has become such in their short time together.
Robin clears his throat. "You know I'm here for you, Killian, I really am, and I'm sorry for not being a member of Team Emma."
"You were right not to be," Killian says softly. "She's royalty – "
"That's not the reason," Robin protests. "I don't give a crap about Emma's title. She's just another girl that's come into your life since I've known you. The only difference is that you have to actually tell this one the dark secrets of your past that haunt you at night, and you have to be man enough to accept that they may be too dark for someone like her. And I don't want to see you lose the only person to make you genuinely happy in the entire time I've know you." Robin sighs. "Sorry, but I'll always be Team Killian."
"You're right," Killian agrees miserably. "I appreciate the support, mate."
The knowledge that he may very well never see her again because of he was too much of a coward to tell her his dark history drives him mad. He knows that he's not perfect, and neither is she – too young, too idealistic, and too trusting and yet too wary all at once – but she makes him want to be a better person. She makes him feel like he is alive for the first time in years, and that was more than he deserved.
"I may regret saying this, but what's that saying of your brother's that you quote all the time?"
Killian laughs, sharp and angry. "A man who doesn't fight for what he wants deserves what he gets." It's tattooed on his chest, above his heart, staring him in the face each morning and each night as a constant reminder that Liam would not give up (he didn't, not even at the very end).
"That. If you want to fix whatever this is with Emma, and I'm pretty sure you do, you're going to need to figure out what's going on with her. And if you can't talk to her, you know who you can talk to."
Killian looks up from his hands, a weak grin forming on his lips. "For someone who smells like forest, you're pretty astute at times."
Robin shrugs, reaching for his bowl of cereal. "So they say," he responds. "Carry on, my wayward son." He leaves the kitchen, heading for his own bedroom and closing the door behind him.
Killian reaches for his phone, searching for the campus directory and the email address of the one person who might be able to shed some light on this situation.
He sends Graham an email inviting him to meet for coffee.
…
NOW
"So you set up a meeting with Graham," Robin says, repeating back the story that Killian's telling him as his roommate proceeds to take care of the bottle of rum inch by inch. Killian nods, and the doorbells rings.
"That will be the pizza," Regina says to no one in particular, patting Robin's shoulder as she stands up to get the door. Robin takes a sip of his beer, watching Killian. Tension radiates off Killian in waves as he sits, leaning forward, shoulders hunched. Robin's never had anything in his life equivalent to what haunts Killian, but he knows what it's like to feel beaten down and Killian looks like he's gone a few rounds in the ring of life right now, so to speak.
"Yeah," Killian says. "I did."
"And did you get answers?" Robin asks, even though he knows what the answer has to be.
Killian nods, looking up at him mournfully. "I got more than I bargained for."
The door slams (Jesus they're loud in this house) and Regina's back, throwing a pizza box and a couple paper plates onto the coffee table. She opens it, pulls out a slice of pizza, and takes a bite.
"So you met with this Graham guy and…" she says between cheesy mouthfuls, clearly engaged and ready for Killian to continue his tale (Robin, however, is not so sure he wants to know – not with how wretched his mate looks right now).
Killian takes deep breath, and proceeds.
…
THEN
The coffee shop they meet at is not crowded this late at night, and because it's a bit more obscure, Killian hopes that the conversation he intends to have with Graham will be that more private. He's already waiting with an Americano when Graham arrives. The other man approaches the small table in the corner of the room, shucking his coat and putting it on the chair across from Killian.
They shake hands, and Graham says, "Let me just grab something to drink – "
Killian nods, taking a sip of his own beverage. He can feel anticipating building in his stomach and he doesn't know if this is such a good idea anymore. Maybe he should have just let it go, lived with the fact that, for all intents and purposes, Emma had pretty much expressed her lack of interest in seeing him, but Robin's point, and Liam's words, echo in his mind.
A man who doesn't fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.
Graham returns with tea, and they make small talk for some time. They discuss the university football team, the facilities at the recreation center, how the food at the dining halls is way better than anything they ate in the army. And then Killian starts to turn the conversation towards the questions he wants answered.
"I was surprised to find you on princess duty," he says, watching as Graham plays with his cup, turning the handle back and forth. "I thought you would have been Captain by now."
"Yeah, well, about that," Graham says, staring down at the tea. He clears his throat. "You remember what the army was like when you left."
Killian does. "I remember," he says, lifting his spoon and stirring the dregs of his coffee. By the time he left, that's when the first bribes starting coming in from Gold – bribes to keep the army in his pocket, starting with the senior officers (and those that didn't accept the bribes, that claimed honor over money, were quickly dispatched of – or so Killian believes).
(His brother was one of those men.)
"I'm not surprised." Killian glances up at Graham. "You turned down good money."
"It was the right thing to do," Graham says, taking a sip of his tea. "I'll serve my Queen and country on my terms."
There's something about the way that he looks off into space, the way that his jaw clenches and his gaze hardens, that makes things click together in his head, and make the apprehensions he's had about Emma and her security staff (how can so few guard something so precious?) fall into place.
"Why is the princess really here, Graham?" Killian asks. There are plenty of colleges back home, including a university with an outstanding reputation, and lots of nearby institutions of higher education. Any of the other European countries would be perfectly acceptable and yet Emma is here, in America, thousands of miles from home, at a prestigious state school but a state school nonetheless, in a mostly rural setting, taking classes on international relations. He's never thought about it much, but he's always assumed it was some whim of hers.
Now he's wondering if it's not more than that.
"Because it's the safest place for her," Graham admits. "Because it's not about if Cassidy will stage a coup but when he will. If she's here, in another country, then if something happens to the Queen – "
"Emma may still be safe," Killian says. "She can be granted asylum." He lets out a breath he doesn't know he was holding, thinking about any harm coming to Emma. "Does she know?"
Graham sighs. "She thinks this is an opportunity for her to be young and free before assuming the duties inherent with her position." He takes a sip from his tea, places it on the table. He folds his hands flat against the wood, then looks up at Killian. "We know about you and Emma."
Killian feels his stomach drop, his heart begin to race. He's not surprised – he shouldn't be surprised, there's far more going on here than even Emma knows – but the fact that they know about him makes him nervous, makes him sweat. "Do you now?"
"We've known since the moment Emma told her roommate Belle about you." Graham's mouth twitches upward in a not-quite smile. "Belle is a member of special forces, assigned to be Emma's bodyguard."
Killian remembers the small girl with the blue eyes and brown hair and how quiet she was – how she just observed. Of course they'd have someone else – that makes complete utter and total sense (suddenly what he just assumed was some half-baked operation has a lot more credibility in his eyes because why would you not have someone on the inside, someone close to the princess? )
"Emma doesn't know that you know about…us," Killian points out, thinking about her excitement about having this secret (not a secret anymore). "Why hide that from her? Why let me be anywhere near her?"
"Leroy wasn't too happy about it, but I trust you," Graham tells him. "Because there's no one else I would rather have protect the princess when I can't." He pauses, looks down at his tea. "Killian, I don't think what happened to Liam was an accident, and I think you were right to pursue it like you did. I don't know if I would have been so brave if I was in your shoes."
Killian laughs. "I'm not entirely sure that my bravery was worth it in the end." His pursuit of the truth cost him Milah, cost him his home, and nearly cost him his own life. It's given him some great things – like his time here, his friendship with Robin – that would have been impossible if he stayed home, but the cost…
(There is a part of him that rebels, reminds him that he's here and he's met Emma because of it, that he's been doing her a service by protecting her even if he hasn't realized it, that he's been keeping her safe, and he remembers that parade, and Liam, and watching the royal family. That part is glad that everything happened the way it did.)
"That being said, I know you care about her and I know she's safe when she's with you -maybe even safer than she is with us."
"I don't carry," Killian points out, but Graham merely smiles.
"I remember a shiner I had for a week after hand-to-hand combat training," he says with a grin. "You're good in a fight, Killian Jones, and you're the sort of man who will fight for what he wants."
Killian leans back in his chair, those damn words coming back to haunt him. "Yeah, well, what I want is to know why Emma's not returning my texts."
Graham looks at him sheepishly. "That's my fault. I may have let it slip about your brother. I know for certain that she asked Belle to help her look him up. I'm not sure what Belle found of her – it's not like we don't already have a dossier on you." The other man looks guilty – beyond guilt, and Killian can't blame him. But his brother is the least of his sins, and he sighs. If they have a dossier, then they know everything, and they still allowed Emma to be with him (because you're a trained solider, he thinks, but he knows it's not just that. It's keeping up the illusion that this university jaunt is just for fun – that there isn't real trouble back home.).
"That explains it, then," he admits. "You may trust me, but she doesn't. I didn't tell her about Liam, Graham. I didn't tell her about anything that happened after he died."
There's a lot that can be found in that dossier about Killian's time when he left the army, when he met Milah, and when he lost her. There's a lot that he hasn't told anyone save Robin, and that was when he was piss-drunk and angry, and telling Emma – not when things are so new, not when they still are figuring things out – would be the worst for both of them: for Killian, because she may no longer trust him, and for Emma, to know that someone hasn't been honest with her.
But the more he doesn't tell her, the more he ends up pushing her away. He can see it in her, even if she doesn't know it – the need to keep herself safe, to keep herself whole. She's the future of their country (not if Gold has anything to do with it) – she cannot afford to let others in if they're liabilities.
Killian is more than a liability, and she needs to know that.
(He did a Google search after he met her, just to see what the newspapers back home were saying, and it was one ridiculous tabloid story about a boyfriend after another – none of the relationships lasting too long and all of the details far more lurid than Emma herself. It breaks Killian's heart to think that Emma might believe he is just another one of those men to use her for her title and her status. He's not. He loves her for who she is, and how she makes him feel, and he needs her to know that – just once – even if she pushes him away.)
Graham sighs. "What do you need me to do?"
"Do?" He's surprised by what seems to be a genuine offer to help.
"I shouldn't have said anything – it wasn't my place. I need to make it right." Graham drums on the table. "She misses you, but she won't say anything. She's pretending that she's busy with other things – the girls are distracting her – but there's something off."
The thought that Emma might miss him – might care for him – makes Killian's heart stop, and he knows that this is may be his last chance to see her.
"You realize that once I tell her everything that's in my dossier, she won't want to see me again," Killian points out. Graham shrugs.
"That will be her choice to make, but at the very least I can give you the chance to tell your side. Emma comes for check-ins at four in the afternoon. My room is room 311 – you don't need a prox card before 8pm. Try to get there by 3:30, in case she decides she wants to stop by early."
They both take a moment to stare at their tea, and then Killian says, "Thanks, mate. For doing this."
Graham shrugs. "My duty is to queen and country, and if making the princess happy is part of it, then I will endeavor to try my best."
Killian throws a sugar packet at him. "Don't be ridiculous," he says, but it has its intended effect of breaking the grave mood that seems to hover over the table, trapping them both. Killian sits back in his chair, grinning, realizing something. "So do I have a code-name?" he asks.
Graham frowns. "Code-name?"
"Like you must have for Emma. When she's with me, what's my code-name? Please tell me it's something dashing like James Bond." Killian grins at Graham, whose smile changes into something else entirely. He raises his eyebrows and looks amused, and that does not bode well.
"We do, actually," he says, and there's a look in his eye that's familiar. Shit. Now Killian doesn't want to know. "She's Duckling, and you're Meerkat."
"I'm what?" Killian asks, taken aback. Meerkat?
"Meerkat. You know, because you sort of look like one and you're a bit scrappy in a fight and – " Graham starts to laugh, and Killian shakes his head sadly.
"Forget I asked," he says, but there's laugher bubbling up in his belly and it's a welcome change from all the doom and gloom of this past hour. "Besides, I'm not scrappy."
"You're smaller than me," Graham points out, and they relax into banter before parting for the night. As Killian walks home, there's a smile on his face from the conversation but dread in his veins. Tomorrow is judgment day, and he's not sure he's ready.
…
NOW
Regina snorts. "Meerkat. Love it."
Killian slumps back into the chair, bottle of rum dangling from his fingertips. "Ain't no bloody meerkat, Regina," he protests.
From beside the couch, Regina's phone vibrates inside her purse but she shrugs. "I'll get that later," she says when Robin looks at her. "You, Mister Lonely Hearts over there, you need to get some pizza in you."
"So I can throw it up later?" Killian asks. Regina stands, crosses the room, and puts a piece of pizza on a plate.
"Exactly," she says, holding the floppy paper plate out to him. "Don't make me force feed it to you." Killian sighs and reaches for it. He takes a couple bites as Regina returns to her seat beside Robin, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her knee.
"Okay, so let me get this straight," she starts. "Emma is here because if her family is overthrown, she can seek asylum."
"Correct," Killian says between bites.
"Her security teams knows you're dating."
"Correct."
"But you went off the rails when your brother died and somehow this going off the rails is still haunting you until this very day."
Robin sighs. "It's not the act of going off the rails but rather what he did when he went off them, love," he tells Regina, resting a hand on hers. "It's a long story – "
"I've already told it once today – may as well tell it again," Killian says with a sigh. He puts the bottle of rum down and takes a deep breath. His eyes are drooping in the corners so Robin knows he's already drunk, but he starts anyway.
"Our country is small, so military service is mandatory," Killian begins. "I went willingly, because my older brother stayed in the military and I idolized everything that Liam did. But when I started my military service, I did so with a head full of idealistic notions about what it meant to serve."
Robin has heard this story once – after he first met Killian, when the man was still recovering from everything that happened to him. He watches Killian as he tells about his time in the army, his face lighting up when he talks about Liam and darkening when he details the beginning of the bribes from someone he calls 'Mr. Gold' – a nickname, Robin knows, for the prime minister.
He listens as Killian tells Regina about the massacre in the Enchanted Forest (he read the Wikipedia article about the skirmish in the disputed territory, the peace treaty that it curtailed, the ramifications it had for Queen Mary-Margaret and her government). Killian's story doesn't talk about that, and Robin plans to fill in Regina later.
"I didn't seem right, for Liam to die," Killian says, looking down at the floor. "Nothing about the skirmish made sense. So I did some digging."
Some digging meant, in short: drinking, insubordination, spending too much time on the internet reading conspiracy theories and conversing with anarchists, all which led to dishonorable discharge papers. And this is where Killian pauses in the story, reaches for the bottle of rum, and takes a sip.
"And that's when I met Milah."
"Who's Milah?" Regina asks. Her phone buzzes again, and she continues to ignore it, choosing to entwine her fingers with Robin.
"Milah Cassidy, long-estranged wife to the prime minister and font of knowledge," Killian says. "She tracked me down through my internet discussion board posts, said she could help me uncover all of Gold's treachery and lies, bring him to justice." Killian smiles bitterly at the memory. "We started to work together to bring down Gold – and we became lovers."
Robin rolls his eyes at Killian's lack of elaboration – from what he's heard, it was more like he joined a militant anarchist group hell-bent on bringing down the government and banged the hot leader - but Regina leans forward, no doubt enraptured by the scandalous news. "So you were actively resisting against Emma's family?"
"NO!" Killian exclaims, rising out of his chair with a slight wobble, the alcohol clearly affecting him. "Never the royal family – never them. I love my country, and I loved my Queen and I love her daughter more than life itself. It was never them – it was the corrupt bureaucracy, the corrupt military. The Queen has nothing to do with my hate," Killian asserts, and Regina holds up her hands.
"Sorry, I just needed clarification," she says, and Killian's face falls.
"I need to pee," he tells them, walking past both of them and heading for the bathroom. Regina turns to Robin.
"Love?" she whispers, and Robin nods, feeling anxious. If Killian loves Emma – and of course he does, Killian puts his heart into everything from his radio show to his band to his studies, of course he loves Emma – then Robin can't even imagine what he's feeling right now. Poor wretch. Poor, ridiculous, love-sick wretch. He feels a momentary flare of anger at Emma for making Killian feel this way but it subsides, quickly, because he knows it's as much Killian's fault as Emma's.
(He'll always been Team Killian before he is anything else.)
...
THEN
Killian arrives at Graham's room at three, which is way too early but he'd been pacing around the apartment after his own classes were over and driving Robin crazy. Luckily, Graham seems to expect this. He gives him a Coke, and a copy of the dossier they've assembled.
It's strange, to look over research about himself and his life. The facts are mostly correct – they indicate that he had a mother who died young, a father who skipped out, a brother killed in the Enchanted Forest five years ago. There's his connection to Milah Cassidy, estranged wife of the prime minister, and some assumptions about the nature of their relationship (most of them true, some of them not). It's thorough research, including the information about his time here and his known associates (including Regina and Robin).
"So when Emma brought up going to Regina's for Thanksgiving…?" Killian asks.
"We knew that you would be going as well." He hands Graham back the story of his life (five pages long, single spaced, with pictures).
"She really wanted to go," Killian remarks.
"Who says she still doesn't?" Graham asks, and Killian shrugs.
"I guess we'll know after today."
There's a knock on the door – two sharp raps, and three softer ones – and Graham goes to answer it. When the door open it's Emma, and Killian has never seen anything so glorious (he did not realize how greatly he missed her, how looking at her just in this instance fills his soul with renewed hope, and when their eyes meet, he has faith that she will listen to him, will hear him out and be merciful just like her mother was all those years ago).
Emma's mouth opens and closes and he can see a look of panic – she is a skittish animal, ready to run at the first sign of danger – but Graham ushers her into the room.
"The other day I told you something about Killian – something that wasn't mine to tell," Graham says. "We already know that you two are involved, and I know what I told you hurt you. This is my chance to make amends." Graham turns, looks at Killian, and then walks out the door, closing it behind him.
Emma turns, mouth still open, and then she closes it. "Did you know…?"
"I found out last night," Killian says. His fingers twitch with the need to touch her – to feel her, to know that she's real – but he keeps them in front of him. He will not touch her unless she wants him to. "You weren't answering my texts. I was nervous that Graham might have said something…" he swallows, "about Liam. And my descent into madness."
Emma says nothing, and Killian takes a deep breath.
…
NOW
"And what happened to Milah?"
Killian's smile curls downward, and his lip quivers. "Gold killed her in front of me." There's a moment of clarity in his eyes when Regina gasps. "Oh god, Emma – and her mother – "
"Tell her the rest, Killian," Robin says, trying to take his friend's mind off of the problems of this evening. "Tell her what Gold told you."
Killian swallows, and looks Robin straight in the eye. "He threatened to kill me if I stayed in the country. He told me I'd lose a limb if I ever came back. And I ran – I ran away, and I never looked back." Killian takes another swig of rum. "Until I met her – until I met Emma."
The phone vibrates in Regina's purse yet again, and Regina sighs. "Let me just check it – if it's the station – "she apologizes, reaching for her bag, and Robin turns to his roommate (who is clearly on his way to losing his own mind as he keeps thinking about Emma, and Robin knows Killian – this conversation needs to end, and quickly).
"So she kicked you out, then?" he asks. "Did she say anything about your confession?"
Killian shakes his head. "She just asked me to leave – " and Robin can see the tears in his eyes, hears the desperation tainting each word he speaks, and he feels so sorry for Killian, that he should have to endure this.
"Shit." Regina's got her phone out, and is scrolling through it.
"Station?" Robin asks.
Regina looks up at him, eyes wide and mouth drawn. "Emma."