16 years, 2.5 years and 5 months.

I am a family man. Full blown, no time to dwindle in the hopes of ever turning back to piracy.

Alas, one has to be a one-man orchestra to support this particular troop! I have me a wife, a teenage boy (who eats copious amounts, almost as if I were supporting three teenage males), a two year and five month wee lad who has fortunately taken to learning simple magic tricks to channel his rather overwhelming magical skill and a baby witch. Yes, a baby witch. My little princess, who looks so much like her lovely mother, has also displayed early signs of magical know-how.

Alas, she also has her mother's terrible temper. Not that it's such a bad thing… Oddly enough and much of a pain in my bloody arse that she can be, Emma Swan's unpredictable temper is probably one of the reasons I adore her. That's love for you.

Henry apparently has reached that age where all his charm and nobility have temporarily walked the plank; he is still a wonderful boy, kindhearted deep down and with a special light inside of him; but alas, his teenage furor has caused him to rebel. He and Swan have the ghastliest fights, worse still, was a fight we had with him the other night where even I had to intervene with a little more discipline... and wound up licking wounds myself.

And I have to say it was a major drama.

He returned home far later than usual, and both Regina and Emma were terribly distraught. We had all tried to contact him on his phone but apparently they were never able to get the call through. I like to think that his battery charge ran its course, but given the current fluctuating nature of the lad, I am sadly more inclined to believe he had it intentionally switched off.

I had never seen both Emma and Regina in such a state. I offered to go out for a spin (yes, I learned how to drive... that's one hilarious episode in my friendship with Prince Charming) and see if I found him wandering around; it was, after all, coming midnight. I too was really starting to feel antsy. But just as I was grabbing the keys to Emma's car, we heard him rustle his way up the stairs.

Emma ran to the boy... so did Regina... and he pushed them both away.

I will never forget the look of hurt on my Swan's face. I walked to the boy and told him not to treat his mother that way, after what he put her through... and he simply replied something along the lines of "You're not my father".

Now I was the one looking dejected. The boy was on a roll of daggers with a tongue that could easily make a sailor blush. Go figure, me, a pirate, in sheer shock over his utterance! He told Emma that she had no right to baby him, and that if she had ever wanted that, she had lost her right to do so when she gave him away. Regina didn't get a much better deal, either... She became the Evil Woman who adopted him to fill up the gap in her heart and that she was also no mother to him at all. Basically, our Henry declared himself an orphan. In front of his adoptive parents and orphan mother. Even I have more tact than that!

Once he locked himself in his room, the three of us just exchanged shocked and ached glares. What had come over our loving Henry Mills?

The babes were screaming off the top of our lungs. Regina took her leave with tears in her eyes and Swan and I split the task: I took the princess (I still have that singing gift) and she went over to see to wee Liam.

After the babes had settled, Emma and I sat in the living room. She was crying something awful and I was close to, myself, as I held her. I was livid, actually. What on earth had triggered Henry to be so bloody cruel to all of us?

It took the boy three hours to emerge. Emma had gone to sleep and I sat watching the magic box. He sat by my side and huffed. "I'm sorry..."

I didn't even turn to see him. "What are you sorry for, lad? I'm not even your father, remember?" I grinned with no humor at all.

It hurt to say it. It did.

"No, yeah, you are, I'm sorry, dad. I..." I could tell he was starting to break, but that didn't make me feel any better. I rolled my eyes in his direction and saw his own, flooded with tears. I looked back to the box, blankly.

"Listen to me, boy..." I spoke quietly and slowly but harshly. "You are not ever... EVER to speak to your mother the way you did again... or Regina, or I. I care NOT what is burdening you, that was bad, bad form. None of us deserved this, especially not when it's your own bloody mother. Both of them!" I finally turned my full gaze to him and for the first time in years I felt like Captain Hook talking to one of his sailors. "Is that absolutely clear, lad?"

I must have looked terrifying because Henry simply nodded, wide-eyed.

"Good. Now..." I turned to him completely. "What in bloody hell prompted you to act worse than the worst of pirates? And trust me, I know..."

Henry huffed and swallowed. "P... please don't tell mom."

I frowned. "She's your mother..."

"But she can't know this!"

I sighed and turned off the box before turning my full attention to him. "Well, we'll see. What is it?"

The lad swallowed and looked to the floor. "I may have... made a really, really big mistake."

"How so?"

He looked up into my eyes and lowered his voice. "I... I did it."

"Did what?"

He blushed. "You know... IT."

"Oh... OH!" I exclaimed, wide-eyed. "That! Well... all right. When?"

"A month ago."

I shook my head. "Well, I assume you're a young man now, it's only normal... I mean, you're still young by any standard but we all bloom differently I suppose. So..." I shrugged. "What's the problem?"

Henry sighed. "Her name is Paige..."

"Jefferson's girl?"

"Yeah... and... and ... Oh God... she's..." He gritted his teeth and looked down.

I instantly knew what he was talking about. "Oh, Henry, she's not!" I sat back.

When he looked up at me again I could not avoid feeling saddened by the look on his face. "We don't know for sure..." He began to weep. "What am I gonna do? If she is, what am I gonna do?" He sobbed miserably. "I'm sixteen! My mom will kill me, she will kill me! Regina will kill me too! And Jefferson will..."

"All right, all right lad." I Held him by the shoulders. "That's enough of that now." He nodded and sniveled. "Right, first off, we have to be a hundred percent sure she's with child. Do you know for sure?"

"No... She just is a few days late..."

"Right. Well..." I ran my hand through my hair. "You really gone and done it now, lad... "

"I know. I just... I couldn't help it! WE couldn't help it!"

I rubbed my temple. "I think you're right. We shouldn't tell your mum about this, not until we know for sure." I shook my head and looked at him. "You do know that if she finds out she'll have my particulars, don't you? She really can't take it when I conceal information, especially about her family."

"I know..."

"Now, I suggest, we keep our heads under the cool of the water, lad, and you go over to her now and apologize... profusely. You can't go around hurting people when you feel wretched, take it from me, it only isolates you."

He nodded. But he didn't move. "I... am so sorry dad. You are my dad, you will be till you die, I swear I didn't mean it... I swear..."

I turned to look at the boy and could not help the tears in my eyes as I reached out to hold him. I wept... I actually wept as I held him. "Don't ever say that again Henry... you know I love you, you know you are my son, so never cross that line again, lad! You bloody hurt me, you hurt us all!"

"I'm sorry... Honest, I am." He kept weeping.

"Right…" I sniffed and pulled away with a grin. "Look… whatever happens in the end, I am sure your mother will support you. She always will. As will I. We both love you. There's always a way, but for now there's no need to get our knickers in a twist, m'boy. Go on, take a deep breath…" He complied. "That's a good lad. Now… go in the room, and make up with your mother. I will see you tomorrow after school, bring the young lass along and we'll all go to the doctor's. I'll just tell your mother we're off for a day in the boat, all right?"

Henry nodded. "Thanks, dad."

"You silly bastard…" I smiled at him. "Go on…"

Before midnight, everything had settled down. Emma slept in peace and I gather Regina did too after Henry called her. The babes slept in peace and so did henry.

Alas, I did not. The idea of Henry fathering a child at his age shook me deep. How? Why hadn't he come to me for support before? I might have given him one of these absolutely nifty and wonderful contraptions called condoms, a marvel of this realm, I must say.

To make a long story short, I drove the lad and the young lady (I have to admit she was quite a lovely looker, Jefferson's little one. Henry wasn't blind) to the clinic the next day.

Bless the gods, all tests turned out negative. That was a relief for all. And I have to admit I started to feel like a decrepit old bloke when the two engaged in a kiss, quite ardent, too. I had to clear my throat to remind them that they were not alone. We then drove the young lady back home, and on the way to our apartment, Henry and I stopped for some coffee (yes, the boy has switched to coffee… ) and had a long talk regarding women, sex and taking the necessary precautions.

I swear if he ever says to me again that I'm not his father…

I had to tell Swan, at least half the story. She now knows her son, her little rescuer, the wee boy who found her five and a half years ago and brought her to Storybrooke, is now a bit of a raging young bull. She didn't quite know what to make of it. The whole thing about him being a minor was the first thing she started on… but in all honesty, being young and being in love doesn't know about legalities. She was shocked to hear I was actually thirteen when I first took the plunge. She was seventeen, I believe… with Neal.

I of course begged her not to tell the lad that I had told her, or he'd be embarrassed. And yes, I deliberately omitted telling her about Henry's little false alarm. Why upset her?

We both sat in bed that night, me reading a book (physics… fascinating subject!) and her just looking strange. "Swan, I can hear you think a mile away…"

"We're getting old…" she sneered at me. "Henry's getting laid, for Christ sake! Henry! MY little Henry! We are aging, Killian! Before you know it we'll be the ones needing a change of diapers."

"And a welcome breath of fresh air that will be!" I smiled at her.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"After over three hundred years of devilishly handsome looks, I do feel more than ready to start sagging." I stated with a grin. "Besides, as long as I sag alongside you, Swan, I fear no evil."

"But I don't want to sag!" She whined at me.

I closed the book and turned to her. "Why are you so scared of aging, love?"

"You get old!"

"Only as old as you want."

"And ugly."

"Swan…" I turned to my side and touched her lips. "You will never, ever be ugly."

She looked at me with a grin. "Your hair might fall, Killian, you have a pretty mighty forehead."

I shrugged. "So I'll be bald; will you leave me for it?"

"Of course not."

"Well there you go. I've all I need! I've three children, a lovely lady wife, a job, a roof over my head and friends. Who cares about a few wrinkles when I'm so blessed?" I picked up the book and resumed my reading. Emma simply chuckled and snuggled under my left arm.

"Love you…"

I still feel a thrill and a shiver every time she says that; like the first time she ever did. She'll never grow old… not to me.

Now, teenage drama makes infant mischief look like a doddle.

Liam has finally managed t find fun ways to channel his magic. He makes things disappear and reappear (I'll never forget Emma's BOOM when she placed that cocoa mug over the book I was perusing) conveniently close to his chubby little grasp. A lot of the times I KNOW he does it to get on our nerves.

There was this one time… I had him in his pen while I was on daddy duty; Emma had gone for a much deserved ladies night out; Henry was out at the cinema with Paige and I was given the arduous task of taking care of the little ones. While I was changing Liz (Yes, alas, I had to do it eventually, ugh), Liam was being very persistent about his pacifier.

"Just a minute, lad!" I'd sing to him. "You sister's almost done…"

But my boy has no knack for patience. My hook disappeared from my hand and when I turned, he was aptly wrapping his little lips around the curve of it.

I might be considered imprudent, and if Child services had seen me, they might have taken the boy from me…. But I used my new cell phone (I really DO know how to use it, honest!) and took a photo before removing the object from him, to his great, great distress.

He's two now, my boy. And every bit as dashing as his father. He has a full set of teeth now and has a knack for biting. I've a couple of marks to prove it. Unfortunately the boy seems to find screeching people amusing, the little madman. We've yet to set him straight. In the meantime, he's still not apt with words, but damn that boy bloody talks! He can go for hours on his toy phone babbling incoherencies that to him sound exactly like his mother or I would! It's marvelous, delightful… downright hilarious, as a matter of fact. I could swear it's an actual language! He does pepper it with some of his proper words of choice, but the point s not to make sense… just to talk. That's what life is about for Liam James Jones: Talk, talk and blah, blah bloody blah. Personally, I egg him on. It's lovely!

I bet Blackbeard couldn't do baby talk.

He does eat by himself now… hardly makes a mess. Perfect little boy. Perfect. He absolutely delights in eating Cherri'os. I can't blame him, every time he sits down for a bowl, I bloody join him! Emma's had a couple of go's at me for eating them when they belong to the lads, but if I can provide my eldest son with condoms, I'm sure he doesn't mind me having his share of Cheeri'os!

As for Lizzie? Sleeping angel, waking little demon… in the good sense, of course... But she's the apple of my eye, no joke. She's a delightful little girl. She'll go with anyone, smile at everyone and gargle and wail and laugh… But unlike Liam, she can't go through the night without screaming bloody murder! Either Swan or myself will inevitably waken to take care of her. Usually I go fetch her and bring her over to Swan for feeding and I am merrily reminded of the days she fed Liam, leaning on our head rest and snoring while the baby enjoys the meal. Poor Emma. They suckle her dry! The wee girl then sleeps but wakes perhaps an hour later, because everything that goes in, it seems, has a direct pass out and needs a change right away.

I still leave most of that part to Swan. Unless it's absolutely indispensable that I do it…

And as before, singing duties fall on me. There's nothing quite as remarkable as seeing a little one sleep in your arms. The feeling of being needed, wanted, is just such an overwhelming albeit marvelous sense of responsibility. My little duckling, my princess… even if she's more of a pirate, I don't care.

Yet I wonder…

I must end this journal for now… Charming just called…. Something about a strange occurrence at sea and some new arrival.

Having a family, these things now make my legs quiver. They are terribly vulnerable and mine and Emma's weakest spot. We will see what this is about.