This is the last chapter of Distant Melody! I didn't plan for it to be, but it's ran its course. I will be back shortly with the prologue for the new story. It's still untitled, but the prologue should be up soon. School just let out for the semester so I'll have time to write more!
I want to thank everyone for reading this! It's been a real labor of love. Sorry it would take me forever to update sometimes. School and whatnot, but I really want to thank you guys for being patient with me. I don't think you understand just how much I appreciate it. Anyways, I ain't going to get all mushy on everyone. I have to get to those special people who favorited, followed, and/or reviewed the story. So here goes: YouAreGross,
Storybrooke - Present
Killian stood on the deck of his ship, eye pressed to the telescope in his hand, "There it is."
"Storybrooke," Cora said.
"It looks…unimpressive," he scoffed.
Cora looked up at him. "What it looks like is not important. What's important is that my daughter is there, and your crocodile is there as well."
He nodded, putting the telescope away. "We should be there shortly. Are you ready?"
"Are you? You're finally getting what you've always longed for." Cora turned and started for Killian's cabin.
He wasn't a fan of her making herself so at home on his ship, but considering how short their journey actually was, he was not about to complain. If he was lucky, he wouldn't need Cora for much longer. Following her into the cabin, he leaned against the wall and watched her. She was the calculating type like he was. Her mind never stopped working. No doubt she was thinking about how she was going to get Regina to welcome her into town. He doubt she cared about anyone else there, but by the looks of it, she had her work cut out for her. If Snow White and Emma were smart, they would have warned everyone that Cora was much more resourceful and on her way into town. Hopefully, they hadn't rested on their laurels. Then again, the two women probably hadn't been home for very long. They may not have had a chance to warn everyone else. Knowing Cora, she wasn't going to give them much of a chance either. He half expected her to tear through town looking for her daughter, which was not really that great for him. If she just blew into town, then there was a chance Rumplestiltskin would know he was there.
"Captain, you seem nervous," Cora spoke up after a minute of silence.
"Not nervous. More...antsy I suppose." It was probably the most honest he had ever been with her. Normally, he kept information like that to himself. She could use it against him. Any sign of weakness could easily be exploited by Cora. She played on emotions as well as her own magical strength to get what she wanted. Killian would be lying to himself if he said he never fell for it. After all, the reason he chose her over Regina was because Cora knew just what to say to get him to betray her.
"There is no need for that," she told him. "Everything will work out just as you planned it."
"Well I know that," he scoffed.
"Then what is the problem?" she asked.
He thought for a moment. It was difficult to tell if she were prying or not. Honesty may not serve him well if that were the case. "Nothing."
Her eyes flicked over him for a moment, but she didn't ask any more questions. "It has been a long day. Perhaps you should leave me to rest. I must be well rested for when I reunite with my daughter."
Of course she wouldn't take into consideration that he might need some rest. He had just been in a brawl with someone. His muscles were none too happy with him, and the longer he pushed through their weariness, the more he knew he was going to need a moment. Still, he nodded and went back to the deck. Killian considered resting before seeking out the crocodile. Like Cora, he would probably need to be well rested. He didn't see Rumplestiltskin not putting up a fight. Even without magic, he knew the man was far more capable than he let on. A powerless man got desperate easily. He had seen it one too many times. Once when he was still courting Isabel. Many times throughout the years of his terrorizing and pirating. Desperate men said and did things without much thought except survival. Rumplestiltskin would probably do the same thing, Killian certainly didn't see him walking away again.
Climbing the rigging, he perched himself atop one of the sails. His thoughts drifted to a pair of cerulean blue eyes and a bright smile, the cutest little button nose he'd ever seen. With his palm turned up, he swore he could still feel the silkiness of thick chocolate brown hair. His ears tickled as he remembered tiny, soft fingertips tracing the outer shell, followed by the most melodious giggle as Isabel mentioned something about his pointy ears. He felt a pang in his heart as he thought about how he was about to enter an entirely new world just to avenge the death of one love, yet he never found those responsible for Isabel's death. Another pang of guilt hit him as he realized he stopped looking when he met Milah. Maybe that's why he loved Milah so much. She both reminded him of Isabel but made him forget all at the same time. She never asked him to relive what he found when he returned home. All she did was ask him things about Isabel, and she accepted she would never hold a place in his heart the way Isabel did. Killian had his own true love. She never questioned or fought to replace it. She loved him without fuss over being second best. For her, it was a lot more than being trapped where she was. Killian was adventure to her. Along the way, they fell in love. They planned to have a family with one another. She was going to provide him with a happy ending while he rescued her from the hell she found herself in. But what he wouldn't give to have had one last goodbye with Isabel.
A tear slid down his cheek as he tried to picture what their child would have looked like. It was probably a little girl. Big eyes like her mother with curls bouncing everywhere. She would have been full of energy like Isabel, feisty as hell. She would have his ears, though, because Isabel insisted their children have his ear. No matter the gender, Killian would teach their child about sailing at least. Not how to be a pirate. The plan was he would retire that lifestyle once the baby was born. He'd probably become a fisherman. Just as long as he was on the water, and his child would love the sea as well. Their little girl would love the fire lilies that grew by their cabin. She would probably chase them until Isabel ran after her to keep her away from the waterfall. Truth be told, Killian wanted a little girl. The miniature version of Isabel would be his pride and joy. He would have given her the world just to see her happy, but mother and child were both taken from him before he ever got the chance to try.
The stack of tests grew shorter and shorter as Isabel graded them. Peter sat next to her at the picnic table, flipping through a copy of Peter Pan. Isabel smiled over at him, and he grinned back at her. After their talk, she didn't feel so nervous about how he was feeling about things. Peter was not happy about who his father was, but at the same time, he was old enough to understand there was no changing it. He wasn't angry with her. That's all that mattered to her. He had made it his mission, though, to see if there were any signs of affection between his father and himself in the stories. He had found nothing so far, and Isabel could tell it was starting to frustrate him. The mythos of Peter's stories never showed much love between Hook and Peter. Then again, Isabel made the truth hard to figure out.
"Did he love me at all?" Peter asked.
Isabel looked up at him from the test she was grading. "Who?"
"Hook." The way he said the name didn't sound like it normally did. Where pure disgust once was, a sort of indifference took its place
Chewing the inside of her cheek, she set her pen down. "Of course he did."
"I don't mean the idea of me. I mean me. Did he do what you see other dads do?" he asked. "Like did he talk to your tummy, sing to me or something?"
"Come here," she told him as she held out her arms for him. He scooted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She kissed the top of his head before speaking. "Your father loved you more than anything in the world. He couldn't wait to meet you, and he took every opportunity he could to tell you so. He was absolutely gutted when his captain asked him to go on one more adventure. He didn't want to leave us, but his captain promised a lot of profit from the journey. Your father wanted to provide for us, and on the night before he had to leave, he cried for hours because he wasn't sure he would make it in time to even see you born."
"Little did he know, right?" Peter sighed.
"Right. He had no idea what he was going to come home to or what he was going to become. I didn't either, but I know this for a fact. Killian Jones loved you more than anything." She held him tighter. "And if I could have stayed, you would have been the most loved little boy ever."
"Did you…" he pressed his lips together. "Were there any parts of him left in Neverland? Was my father still in him?"
"I did," she nodded, "But I, uh…it was usually when you would send me away."
"You would go see him?" Peter looked up at her.
"Sometimes," she answered.
"He must have never seen you," he mused.
"What makes you say that?" she asked.
"Because you always came back," he smiled. "He would have killed you if he knew you were there, but you always made it back in one piece."
Not always, she thought. Squeezing him tightly, she let him go. "I'll tell you what, love. You let me finish grading these papers, and I'll tell you everything you want to know about your father. Starting with how we met to how he felt about you. Deal?"
He narrowed his eyes up at her. "How do I know you aren't just dodging my questions?"
"Because you know me better than that. I keep my word, Peter. Like you," she told him.
Just because she had lied to him about who he really was, it didn't mean that she would ever break a promise to him. She had promised him honesty if he forgave her, and he did. It was time to hold up her end of the bargain. First, she just needed to get the papers graded. Peter always had a million questions on any subject. It was best she get the tests graded before he occupied her time to the point that they never got graded. It didn't take her long, and she soon found herself sitting underneath Peter's favorite climbing tree with him. He picked a blade of grass from the ground, placed it between his thumbs, and blew into his cupped hands. It made a whistling noise, and he smiled to himself. Of all the things that didn't make it Storybrooke, his panpipes hadn't. Isabel remembered listening to him late at night playing a lullaby to her when she was upset. He was such a soft-hearted boy that sometimes his songs would make her feel worse, especially when he played one she used to sing to him when he was a baby. He never realized it, but if he had listened closely enough, he could hear his father singing it as well. Peter was never a fussy baby. There were times when she wondered if he knew they had left his father behind. He would cry and cry with no end in sight at times. He would be fed, changed, burped, and rocked. Still, his crying persisted until it was almost too much for anyone to take. The crying would only stop when she would sing that song to him.
Somehow Peter remembered the song. The island made him forget many things, but that song was not one of them. It seemed the island wanted it to haunt her. The very thing she wanted to forget followed her. It wasn't enough Killian managed to find his way to Neverland. Peter had to remember the very song his father would sing when he would continuously kick Isabel while he was in the womb. Maybe some part of her loved that he remembered, but another part of her really just wanted the island to take it from Peter. At the very least, it could have taken it from Killian. It didn't matter to her. Killian once told her that the song was something his mother would sing to him, even when she was dying. She'd sing it to him because it comforted him. He wanted to pass the song on to his children, sing it to them whenever they needed to hear it. The first time she ever heard it was when he started to sing it to her right before he left on some dangerous journey Captain Finnegan dreamt up for the crew. Three months would separate them, and she cried for days as she tried to forget. Her tears didn't stop until he began singing to her. His voice was soft and beautiful, soothing. Her tears dried up, and she just listened as he held her tightly.
"Mama," Peter spoke softly as he placed his hand on her shoulder.
She looked over at him, realizing she'd lost herself in her thoughts. "What is it, baby?"
"Tell me something good about him. Something I can be proud of," he told her.
"Well," she began as she pat the spot next to her, "he loved your grandfather very much. I used to have this locket. It was very important to me. Your grandmother gave it to me before she died...or when she left I suppose. I loved it more than anything. It was the only thing I had left to remember her by. It got stolen a year or so before I met your father. A band of pirates came into town, ransacked the entire place. They didn't hurt me or anything, but they took my locket. It was worth quite a bit, you see, and you know how pirates love a good profit. Your father heard about it, swore he was going to find it. I don't think he ever left on a trip that he didn't try and find out some information on who could have taken it."
"Did he find it?" Peter asked.
She shook her head. "I don't think he ever did. If he did, I never saw it on his ship."
"But what does that have to do with Gramps?" he asked.
"He...your grandfather, that is...he bought it for mother so it was very important to him as well," she answered. "Killian didn't want me to know he was looking for the locket so he asked grandpa about it. Must have killed him to think he had to ask father about it."
"So...he was a good man before everything else," Peter concluded.
"He was," she nodded.
"You never answered if that man was still in Hook," he told her.
"Oh." She thought for a moment, trying to figure out how she was going to answer him. It was a yes and no answer. He hated those. He liked conclusions, final answers. Nothing wishy washy. Nothing he couldn't pin down. Yet, when it came to Killian or even her relationship with Terence, it seemed Peter asked only questions with those types of answers. "Somewhere deep within him is the man I fell in love with."
Peter nodded, obviously pleased with the answer. "Good. I don't think you would have survived if he wasn't."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Come on, mama. You know just as well as I do that the reasons you were upset a lot of the time in Neverland was because of him. It's obvious now, even if it wasn't back then. How many times did your light try to go out because you were so heartbroken?" He sighed. "If you didn't see my dad in him, then you would have let your guilt kill you. And I get it. You lied to me because you felt guilty. You didn't want me to get upset over who my dad was, and you didn't tell me then because you were scared. Even now, you can't help but feel so damn guilty because you think I'm going to end up hating you or resenting you. Honestly, I might have done the same if I were in your position. No kid ever wants to hear that the person swinging a sword at them is their father. No kid wants to know their father hates them. I understand why you kept it from me. There's no need to feel guilty."
"That's not the only reason I feel guilty," she said quietly.
"No. I suppose not. You think you took my mother from me too." His small hand covered hers. "You were there the entire time. I remember before we went to Neverland. You were there, and you were my mother. We went to Neverland. You took your fairy form, but you were still my mother, weren't you? You watched out for me. You made sure I was safe, fed, and happy. Everything a mother is supposed to do for her kid. Then the curse hit, and you know what? I got twenty-eight repetitive years with you. I could have easily been put in another home and separated from you. The curse didn't do that. It put me in a house with you. I got my mom back. You see, mama, you don't have to feel guilty about anything."
A tear slipped down Isabel's cheek. She wiped it away, sniffling with a chuckle. "When did you get so smart?"
"Mama, I'm 308 years old. I think smart comes with it," he grinned.
"Plus I'm dealing with a very remarkable you," she giggled.
He nodded. "Exactly. Hey...why don't we go to Granny's for dinner tonight? My treat."
"Your treat? What happened to being eight and spending your allowance on comics?" she smiled back.
"Well, nothing new came out this week so I have some to spare. You might want to get the tip, though," he laughed.
"Will do," she smiled, standing up.
She stared out at the ocean. With the curse broken, she hadn't really found herself longing for the ocean quite like she used to. Then again, her brain wasn't trying to connect with her past. The truth had been revealed. She had no need for the ocean anymore, yet she found herself at the docks yet again. Before, she guessed she had been looking for Killian, waiting for him to come in. Of course, she also guessed her mind wasn't accepting his death like it was supposed to. Her heart yearned for him to return to her. Some part of her wanted him to be in Storybrooke, but he wasn't so she considered him dead. Looking out at the waves crashing only reminded her that she would never see him again.
The water was calm and beautiful, blending with the fog that surrounded Storybrooke. The town was usually shrouded in a haze. She guessed that was to help keep people out. It was just as Henry one said. No one left and no one entered. Storybrooke couldn't be found. It wasn't just a tiny town tucked away in Maine. It literally could not be found. It didn't even exist on the internet. Regina's curse plopped it somewhere randomly and left it there. Perhaps it was for the best. After all, no one would really believe everyone in town was some sort of fairy tale character. Hell no one believed it when Henry was going on about it. She doubted any outsider would.
Her phone pinged, drawing her attention away from the horizon. Taking her phone out, she read the text from Peter. Granny's was getting crowded so he and his grandfather were going to be leaving. She nodded even though Peter wasn't there and sent a text back to him. If Peter went with his grandfather, then he was going to be staying the night there. Perhaps she should text Terence to come over. Work had been busy. She missed him. Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she decided she would figure out what to do with her night once she got home. A night to herself might just be what she needed. Before she left Granny's, she realized that it really was getting a little crowded. Mary Margaret and Emma had made it back from the enchanted forest. They had been triumphant against Cora, and everyone was celebrating with them. Isabel stuck around to congratulate them and welcome them back. Then she started to get a migraine from all the noise. She excused herself to go to the drug store and get some medicine. She was drawn to the docks then. Her feet carried her there without her noticing.
Isabel turned back to the water and noticed something that wasn't on the horizon earlier. A white, fluffy cloud hung in the distance, and something felt all too familiar about it. Normally clouds were clouds, but this one told her to pay attention to it. It was special. It was important. It was moving. Her eyes narrowed, and finally a bit of her magic worked properly for her. They zoomed in on the cloud. What she saw shook her down to her very core. It was a ship. Not just a ship. His ship. Killian's ship. The Jolly Roger. The billowy cloud that called her attention was the one ship she never thought she would see again. Focusing more, a sharp pain shot through her head, and her eyesight went back to normal. She needed to know if it was him on that ship or if Cora had found a way to make it Storybrooke after all.
Panic started to set in. It didn't matter who it was on the ship. Both options would prove disastrous for her, and all she could think about was her son. Her beautiful little boy had just gotten used to the fact that his father was likely never coming back. Now there was a chance he was in town, and it scared Isabel. She didn't know how much more Peter could take. If it were her, the answer would be not a lot or not at all. Peter was strong. He still had his limits. Just as they had taken her to the docks, Isabel's legs led her away from the dock hastily. She needed to at least warn her father. She needed to make sure Peter was safe because there was no way she wasn't going to return later in the night to see who was on that ship. Isabel needed to get back to her house, get her gun, and make sure whoever it was didn't make it off the docks. But there was magic in Storybrooke. Facing Cora without her own magic would end badly for Isabel, and she knew she was not prepared to meet Killian face to face. She'd have to scout it out. She'd have to make sure they didn't see her but that she saw them.
Her legs didn't carry to her father's house. Instead, her hands and fingers told her to text her father and tell him to keep Peter inside the house; not to let him leave. She'd explain later. While she did so, she ran home and bypassed the grabbing of the gun. She climbed into bed instead. Her mind was racing so fast that her migraine started to grow into something terrible. Her mind said jump to action, but her body said shut down. Maybe sleep was good for her. It would help clear her mind. It would prepare her for whatever came next. There was always the possibility that Aurora and Mulan had found their way back. She remembered hearing Emma and Mary Margaret mention them. Maybe they found their way back. Maybe Isabel didn't have anything to worry about. As she thought these things, she felt sleep take hold of her body. Her mind quieted down, surrendering to the exhaustion she felt.