Author's Note: I don't own OUAT… This chapter alternates between Emma and Killian's POV. I hope you like it! Thanks for the reviews. I'm so happy you all like this story.

"Emma, it's Killian. Please, love, please call me back. I need to talk to you. Any time, day or night, please call me. I love you, Emma."

"Swan, it's Killian again. Please, it's been two weeks. We need to talk."

"Emma, please, you need to talk to me. What about the muffin? Please, Emma, I'm losing my mind without you."

"Emma, it's Killian again. It's been a month… call me. I love you."

Emma listened to each of the voicemail messages at the dining room table, Mary Margaret holding her hand as she cried. She had cried every day for a month, barely getting out of bed except for doctor's appointments. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Killian. She saw him looking into her eyes as they made love. She saw him laughing as they painted the nursery together when she swiped him with paint. She saw the tears in his eyes when he found out the muffin was a boy. But then she also saw the little girl that he'd hid. The little girl who never knew her real father, who suddenly had everything she'd known taken from her. She saw the muffin, a little boy growing up with his sister and father looking on, watching him. She was not in the vision – she was not a part of the family. She missed out on everything that she'd finally allowed herself to dream of with Killian. And it broke her heart.

"Emma, you need to talk to him," Mary Margaret said, stirring Emma from her thoughts.

"No," Emma replied.

"But you have to figure out what's happening with the baby. Does he still want the baby? Do you want the baby? This little girl changes everything! Please, Emma, you have to talk to him. For the baby," her friend urged. Emma nodded. She knew eventually she would have to deal with everything. In two months, the muffin would be out. And he needed a family. He deserved a family. So she grabbed her phone and sent a quick text to Killian.

Meet me at the Starbucks on Main Street at 3 pm.

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Killian was overwhelmed. He was suddenly a father to a five year old, a teenager was living with him, and Emma was gone. It had been a month since he'd heard from her. David had come with a couple of his friends to get all of her belongings a while ago. He had to deal with his heartbreak and he couldn't let it consume him for Sophie's sake. Neal was staying with them for a while, settling Sophie in and helping her adjust before heading back to school in Boston. All of the kids' belongings, plus anything of their parents' that they wanted to keep, were brought to Killian's home. The Golds' home in Portland, Maine was closed up. One of the spare bedrooms was turned into Sophie's room, complete with bright pink walls and a princess bed. Neal took over the guest house out back so he could have his space but still be close to Sophie.

He had to admit, Sophie was an amazing kid. She was smart. She was already reading and insisted on reading him and Neal a bedtime story every night. She was polite, helpful and kind. And she seemed to like Killian. A few days after the kids arrived, Killian and Neal sat down and tried to explain the situation to Sophie. She understood to an extent. She knew that Killian was going to take care of her. She knew that Neal was going to go back to school, but he was going to visit every weekend. She had started in a new pre-kindergarten and had made friends with a few of the other children. She was remarkably well-adjusted given her situation. And she was so much like him. She didn't like onions, she wiggled her eyebrows just like him, and she was really good at the puppy dog eyes that he'd perfected (at least according to Emma).

After a month, the duo had settled into a routine, with Neal's help. He taught Killian everything there was to know about Sophie – her favorite foods, what laundry detergent she liked, how Frozen was her favorite movie, and how to convince her to let him wash her stuffed bear. He had helped Sophie accept Killian as her new caregiver and it was strange how quickly it all fell into place. Killian immediately found a pediatrician in Storybrooke as well as a children's grief counselor to help her work through her parents' deaths. He had discussed telling Sophie how he was related to her with the counselor, who had recommended waiting for a while. So instead, he was a friend of her mom's who was going to car for her and Neal now that her parents were gone. Sitting in front of the fire, nursing a small glass of rum while Sophie took her nap, he thought back to his first sweet fatherhood moment.

About three weeks into being a parent, Sophie came down with an ear infection. He was frantic when she woke up crying in the middle of the night. She was crying and it woke him up out of a sound sleep.

"Killy!" Sophie screamed. Immediately, he jumped out of bed and pulled a shirt over his head, running for his life into the little girl's room. Flipping on the light, he ran to her bedside.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked, out of breath.

"My ear hurts, Killy," she said through her tears, clutching her teddy bear to her chest. Killian had no clue how to deal with a crying five year old girl.

"Do you, do you want me to go get Neal?" he asked, unsure of what to do.

"No, I want you," she whined.

"What can I do to help?" he asked, willing to go to the ends of the Earth to stop her tears from falling. He felt her head and it felt unusually warm.

"Will you – could you lay with me?" she whispered, wiping her eyes.

"Of course," he replied before telling her he would be right back. He ran to the kitchen, pulling out the thermometer, some juice, and children's ibuprofen. He took his daughter's temperature and it was high, 101.3. He poured a dose of medication to break her fever and offered her a glass of apple juice. He promised to take her to the doctor in the morning while pulling back the covers and crawling into the bed next to his daughter. She curled into his side, her head resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through her dark curls and hummed softly. Within five minutes, Sophie was fast asleep. He thought about getting up and leaving, but ever time he tried she held on tighter. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes.

So that's how Neal found them the next morning when he came in to check on Sophie. He shook Killian awake quickly. "Hey," Neal whispered to Killian. Killian just smiled in return, nodding at Neal. But he made no move to leave – he was to happy to move. Sophie's arms were wrapped around him, her little head nestled into the crook of his neck. As he closed his eyes to go back to sleep, he couldn't help but see visions of him, Sophie, Liam and Emma snuggling on a Sunday morning. Even in his happiest moments as a father, he couldn't shake his longing to have Emma by his side.

He was shaken out of his memories by his phone dinging. Checking the screen, he saw the next from Emma. He immediately called Neal, asking if he would mind watching Sophie at 3 pm so that he could go talk to Emma. When Neal agreed, he immediately began to get ready to convince Emma to take him back.

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Emma sat nervously inside Starbucks, sipping on her green tea. The muffin was kicking like crazy, making it hard for her to sit still, but she knew Mary Margaret was right. She and Killian had a lot to talk about. She didn't have to forgive him, but contractually, the muffin was Killian's baby, not hers. She had to keep him in the loop. In the past month, she'd created a birth plan, set up everything with Storybrooke Hospital and Doctor Whale, and filed all the necessary paperwork. She was ready to give birth in just less than two months. But she wasn't quite ready to give up the muffin. She had always been attached to him, even more so when she was in her happy family bubble with Killian. After that catastrophe, she bonded with the muffin more than ever. She really thought of him as her baby, even though she knew she shouldn't. She would just get hurt in the end, but she couldn't help herself. She dreamed of nursing a sweet, black haired, blue eyed little boy. Of pushing him on the swings. Of being his mother. But that was a bad road to go down.

"Hello, Swan," an Irish accented voice jolted her out of her daydreams. He looked just as good as ever, with his dark, shaggy hair, five o'clock shadow, plaid shirt and dark jeans. And of course the blue eyes that haunted her.

"Hi," she mumbled, suddenly more interested in her tea.

"Do you want a refill?" he asked. She shook her head. "I'll be right back, then, just let me order." A couple of minutes later, he returned and sat down across from her.

"So, how have you been?" he asked after a short, uncomfortable silence.

"We are fine," she said, digging something out of her purse. She handed him the printed sonogram image to him. "This is the latest picture. He's still a boy, and totally perfect." He stared at the picture – in a few short weeks, Liam, his little muffin, would be here. And he couldn't wait. He hadn't told Sophie yet, but Neal was excited about a little one and promised to help when he was home from school for the summer.

"Thank you. But how are you? You graduated, right? That's exciting," he said, trying to make conversation.

"We aren't here to talk about me. We're here to talk about the muffin. Here is all the information about the birth plan. Mary Margaret is going to be in the delivery room with me. David will be in charge of calling you and letting you know when I'm in labor. You can come and wait, and once the muffin is born, you can do all the dad stuff." She handed him a stack of papers, not meeting his eyes. "I mean, all of this is assuming that you still want the muffin, considering your change in circumstances…" she trailed off.

Killian's gaze hardened. "Of course I still want my little boy, Swan. He's my child."

"Yeah, well, we've seen how you treat your children, haven't we?" she replied shakily. Immediately, his eyes fell and Emma felt her heart begin to hurt. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just stressed and defensive."

"You were right, love," Killian answered without emotion. Clearing his throat, he continued the conversation, as unpleasant as it was. "Anyhow, what visitation are you going want?"

Emma looked shocked. "You're going to let me see him?" she whispered.

"If you'd like, yes. He is half yours, contract be damned."

"I, I don't know if that's a good idea," she responded.

"Emma, I know you love him as much as I do, as much as you don't want to. Anyhow, just let me know what you do. I guess that's it then. Would you mind checking in after your doctor's appointments, so that I know that you and Liam are alright?"

"Liam?" she asked.

"The baby… I'm naming him Liam, after my brother. I hope you like that," he said.

"It's great, Killian. How is Sophie?" Emma had to admit that in the short minutes she'd spent with the child, she had grown fond of her. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was Killian's child. Nope, not at all.

Killian smiled at the thought of his little girl. "She's adjusting very well. She started her new preschool and has her room set up. Neal went back to Boston this week for school, so she's been a bit down, but we are adapting together. He's here this weekend, though. Thank you for asking."

"No problem. She seems like a great kid," Emma said, getting up from the booth. Killian followed her and opening the door for her.

"She is. I guess I'll see you soon, Emma. Goodbye," he said, leaning over and brushing a kiss against her cheek. As she watched him drive away, she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Sitting on the curb, she murmured silently to the muffin – Liam, about how loved he was as she waited for Mary Margaret to come pick her up.