A/N: As always a huge thank you to the-lady-of-misthaven and zengoalie for looking this over and to o-u-a-timer for being my right hand while writing this!
I am not sure if this one will make you sad or angry, or possibly both, but hang in there! Enjoy!
Thank you for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews...They make my day!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own OUAT or its characters.
Three Years Ago.
Killian set his suitcases on the wooden floor in front of the stairs and let out a sigh. That was the last of it. He was all packed and ready to go for this third summer tour. He wanted to be excited, he really did. He had dreamt of being a real musician since he was a young lad in England. Here he was, two years after his big break, and The Dashing Rapscallions were still on top of the world. He knew that once he got on the road it would be easier, he'd back into the swing of things. It was just… this time he would be leaving his entire world behind.
After two years of hard work and dedication, Emma had graduated with her masters in Social Work. His heart swelled with pride as he remembered watching her cross that stage to receive her degree. He'd almost missed seeing it, too. He'd lost track of time in the recording studio and he barely made it to UC Storybrooke to watch her walk across the stage. Almost immediately after she graduated, she was offered, and accepted, a position within the very city they lived in. His girl would be working with children who were in similar situations as she had grown up in.
His head shook in exasperation. He was the famous one with millions of fans all over the world, but Emma was more deserving of them. She was the real hero of the two of them. Lives were changed because of her and he was honored to call her his wife. Which is why the next three months were going to suck.
Running his hand through his hair, Killian's eyes scanned the room until they landed on Emma, wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the couch. In her hands, she held a cup of her favorite drink - hot chocolate with cinnamon. Her green eyes stared blankly out the large window into their back yard. Her sun-kissed cheeks were tear-stained. His heart clenched in his chest. She hadn't been looking forward to today either.
Joining her on the couch, Killian gently took the hot chocolate out of her hand and placed it on the coffee table. The action caused her eyes to meet his and when they did, he inhaled sharply. Pain reflected back at him. His lips turned down in a frown as he lifted a finger to lightly wipe a tear from one of her eyes.
"Love, come here." He held his arms open and she wasted no time launching herself into them and burying herself in his chest. His arms wrapped around her waist and he pressed her further into him. He loved the simplicity of simply holding her in his arms. His stomach twisted when he remembered it would be weeks before he was home to do this again.
"I'm going to miss you so much." Her words were muffled into his shirt.
Warmth spread through his chest. God, he loved this woman. Loved everything about her. He was going to miss her unbearably, as well. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to ask her to quit her job and to come on tour with him, but he couldn't. She had dreams, too, and she was entitled to live out those dreams. Just as he was with his. Besides, it was only three months, not forever.
"I know, darling. But really, love, it's only a couple of weeks before I get a break. Then, I will be on the first flight back to you." He kissed her hair softly and gently caressed her back through her thin blanket. "Until then, we'll talk everyday and skype as much as we can. There's not a day that will go by that I won't think of you, Emma."
Tilting her head up, Emma smiled at him through her tears. "Good."
His heart fluttered in his chest. This woman was going to be the death of him and he couldn't find it within himself to care. His hands came to rest on Emma's neck as he kissed her nose, causing her lips to turn up in a grin. Their eyes met and he felt the air around them begin to hum. Closing his eyes, he leaned into Emma until their lips met in a tender kiss. His hands tangled in her hair, he bent his head to deepen the kiss. A groan fell from Emma as she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him until he was lying flat on the couch. The blanket fell off of her shoulders onto the floor next to the couch.
Removing a hand from her hair, he toyed with the hem of her shirt. Somewhere in the distance, Killian heard his phone go off. Dammit. Why did they have to show up now? He groaned as Emma removed her mouth from his.
"Are they here for you?" Her voice quivered and she wouldn't meet his gaze. He knew she was upset again and he hated to leave her when she was feeling this way. Ignoring her question, he placed his thumb under her chin and pushed until she was looking at him.
His heart broke seeing the unshed tears in her eyes. A horn honked outside and Emma jerked her head toward the front door. Bloody hell, they could wait a few more minutes. His wife was more important than getting to the damned plane early. It wasn't like they were going to be late.
"Don't worry about them, love. We've all the time in the world." He placed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Emma Jones, I love you more than all of the stars in the sky. You know that right?"
She shook her head in disbelief, a giggle escaping. Leaning down she briefly kissed his lips before pulling away. Her face contained a small, sweet smile and his heart thumped wildly in his chest again.
"You better go, before you're late." His body filled with disappointment as she pulled herself off him and stood next to the couch.
Her voice was full of regret and a sharp pain went through his chest. He wanted to stay. Emma needed him and it went against his very nature to leave her when she was feeling so distraught.
"Are you sure, love? I can book a later flight if you want me to stay a bit longer." His eyebrow rose at the question.
She shook her head and the movement lifted her blonde locks. Bloody hell, she was beautiful. Maybe he should book a later flight regardless. It was going to be weeks before they saw one another again. He wouldn't mind little more time with the woman standing before him.
"Go, Jones. Your fans await. You wouldn't want to disappoint them." She pointed her hand at the door as she walked toward it. The right corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. He could tell she was still upset. He just wished there was more time to comfort her, to make her realize that he would be returning soon, that regardless of him leaving he loved her and only her. But she was also right...people were waiting on him.
He pulled himself off the couch and sauntered up to her, invading her space. The horn honked in the distance, again. He let out an exasperated sigh and turned his attention back to Emma.
"I love you, Emma Jones. Forever." Pulling her back into his arms, Killian committed this moment to his memory. The way she felt in his arms, the way her hair smelled like vanilla, the warmth of her skin. It would have to get him through the next couple of weeks.
"I love you, too. Now go before I change my mind and keep you all to myself." Removing herself from his arms, Emma turned and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. He knew just the thing to make her feel a little better.
Smirking, Killian gave her a flirtatious wink before raising his hand to salute her. "Aye, Aye, Captain!"
Giggling at his antics, Emma rolled her eyes and blew him a kiss. This was how he liked his wife to be, happy and light.
The next three months were going to be difficult, he knew that. He didn't want to be away from her anymore than she wanted to be away from him, but he knew in his heart that they would make it through this. She was his happy ending, his everything.
Killian stared at the phone through tears. His heart thumped wildly in his chest causing his hands to shake. His stomach twisted violently, features contorting in heartache. He couldn't believe that she had actually called him. He called her everyday and she had yet to call him back. When he saw her name on his phone screen he thought he was seeing things, but he wasn't. She really had called.
She sounded different on the phone. Not at all like the Emma he knew and loved. Her voice was soft, like it took all of her energy to even form words. Even when she was yelling at him she sounded exhausted, lost. It didn't make any sense. She was the one who left. Why was she so upset if this is what she wanted?
Running his trembling hand through his hair, Killian squeezed his eyes shut in despair. Bloody hell, he missed her. He had been on tour without her before, he'd spent days without talking to her because he was too wrapped up in whatever it was he needed to do for the band, but this was different. This time she was really gone. She wasn't at home waiting for him to return. She wasn't waiting on him at all.
He wanted to go to the nearest airport and catch the first flight home, to find Emma and make her explain. He would tell her that he loved her, that they could work through whatever the problem was. He let out an anguished sob as tears blurred his vision again. Didn't she understand that he was willing to do anything, to change anything if it meant being with her. All he's ever wanted, since the moment his eyes landed on her all those years ago, was to be with her. He was nothing without her.
The phone vibrating in his hand pulled Killian from his thoughts of Emma. David Nolan's smiling face stared up at him from the screen. Likely calling to check up on me. David had been his one link to Emma, the one person who kept him informed on how his wife was doing. He hadn't received a single call from either Mary Margaret or Ruby, not even to make sure he was doing okay. He hadn't expected anything different, but it still stung.
He wished he had time to talk to David, but he didn't. His thumb pressed the 'ignore call' button. He needed to call Malcolm, to take care of the situation with Emma. His heart skipped a beat when he thought about what she had gone through. HIs face flushed with anger as he stabbed Malcolm's contact number into his phone. The media knew better. Just because he and Emma were separated didn't mean it was suddenly okay for them to attack her.
Malcolm answered the phone on the second ring and Killian wasted no time getting right to the point.
"Please explain to me why the paparazzi accosted Emma while she was trying to go to dinner."
"Really, Killian? This might come as a shock to you, but you are the lead singer of an extremely popular band. You've been voted People's Sexiest Man alive for five years in a row. News of Emma filing for divorce has spread like wildfire. Frankly, I'm surprised it has taken this long for the media to find her." Malcolm laughed on the other end of the phone line and Killian clenched his hand into fist so tight his wedding ring bit into his finger. His head pounded with the rush of blood to his head.
As if things weren't bad enough. Now his manager wanted him to sit idly by and let these people harass his wife. Killian angrily shook his head back and forth. It wasn't going to happen. Not today, not any day. Emma may have left him, but he hadn't left her. He would protect her with everything he had.
"Now you listen here, mate. I don't care what you have to do, who you have to talk to. Issue a statement publicly for all I care. Emma is off limits. Bloody hell, Storybrooke is off limits. If they want an interview they can contact me. Leave Emma out of it." He was fuming. The volume of his voice rising to the point of yelling.
"Now, Killian. You can't be serious. This is a huge story…" Killian didn't give him the chance to finish. He didn't give a buggering fuck about how big the story was.
"I'm deadly serious, Malcolm. Let me explain this in terms you'll understand. Whatever magazine, radio company, or paparazzi hounds Emma for anything will never receive an interview from me or any member of the band again. Are we clear, mate?" He heard Malcolm's sharp intake of breath over the line.
"Crystal. I'll take care of it." Killian hung up the phone without responding and threw it on the bed.
He crossed the room in two large strides. Grabbing the bottle of rum by the neck, he twisted the top off and took a large swig. The liquid burned as it went down his throat, but he paid it no mind and swallowed another large gulp.
He was so tired of feeling. One minute he was heartbroken and the next he was ungodly angry. He just wanted to stop feeling everything, he wanted to have Emma back in his arms. He wanted to be numb.
A few weeks later, Killian stood in the middle of his hotel room dressed casually in his favorite Transformers pajama pants. He had every intention of burying himself in his bed and spending yet another evening drinking alone while watching crappy movies on the television. When, out of nowhere, Will burst into his hotel room. His friend did not spare him a glance before he strode over to the suitcase in the corner of the room and began throwing clothing in Killian's direction. Killian's eyes widened when his face was hit with a plaid button up. Pulling the shirt off his head, Killian stared at it in his hand with questioning eyes.
"Uh, Scarlett, was there something I could help you find, mate?" Killian threw the shirt onto the bed and slowly walked to where Will was standing.
Will looked up and gave Killian a smirk. "You can help by gettin dressed, Jones."
Killian's head tilted in confusion. Why would he get dressed? Did Will think… bloody hell, no. He was not going out with them tonight, or any night for that matter.
"Listen, mate. I appreciate the…" Killian stopped speaking when Will stood up and raised an eyebrow in his direction, Will's features reflected nothing but concern for Killian.
"Killian." Will spoke as if he was speaking to a child. "It's been weeks, mate. Weeks. Holding yourself in another hotel room init gonna solve anything. You need to get out."
He was right. Staying at the hotel just meant he would end up drunk and calling Emma for the upteenth time, like that was going to solve anything. It was just… the idea of being surrounded by a crowd of people did not sound appealing. It was one thing to do it at a show. That was his job, but this would be for… fun? Killian shook his head softly. No, this wasn't a good idea. He wasn't fit for a public outing. It would be best for him to stay back.
"Will, I think…" Again Killian was interrupted by his friend.
"Nope, Jones. You're comin. Robin n Smee are waitin downstairs." Will lifted his hand and rubbed the hair on Killian's head. "We're gettin really worried, mate. Come out n show us you're okay." Will's lips curled into a teasing smile. "Besides, you're technically single and we both know I'm a great wingman. Maybe gettin laid would help ya feel a bit better."
Killian shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine. I'll go, but I won't be needing your wingman services. I'm, well I'm not ready for that."
Will laughed and threw a pair of pants in Killian's direction. "Ya got five minutes before I come in and dress you meself, Jones!"
Hours later, Killian found himself staring at a very drunk Will Scarlet at some random night club in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Rolling his eyes at his band mate, Killian took another swig of his rum. It was his fifth of the night, he had lost track of how many shots. Despite telling Will that he was not up to any female companionship, his friend had still tried to hook him up with a pretty brunette when they had arrived to the club. I may be drunk Jones, but I still know gettin laid solves every problem. Killian loved his friend but Will was perpetually single, and he...wasn't.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Killian downed the rest of his drink. He hadn't heard a word from Emma since the incident with the interviewer. He shook his head get rid of the thoughts of Emma. The whole reason he had agreed to come out tonight was to to forget all of his troubles, to get his mind off of Emma and their divorce. Killian downed the shot that Robin placed in front of him and slammed the glass on the table. Maybe he needed another drink to help. Robin grinned and twirled Killian's shot glass on his finger.
"Another round, mate?" Robin asked, raising his eyebrow in Killian's direction.
Killian grinned from ear to ear. His body felt warm, his head beginning to buzz from the effects of the alcohol. Yes, more shots sounded like an awesome idea. In fact, it sounded like the best idea Robin ever had.
Before he could nod his head to answer Robin, Will's hand slapped Killian on the back and he answered for him. "Oi! Of course me mate wants another! Hell, bring 'em two more 'n some more rum!" Then, Will shoved three of his own shots in Killian's direction.
Killian wasn't inclined to disagree with Will. The drunker he got, the easier it became to push Emma into the back corners of his mind to be dealt with on another day. Grinning, he gave Robin two thumbs up before quickly downing all three of Will's shots. Oh, yes he was most certainly feeling good and drunk now. Those shots were going straight to his head.
His foggy mind wondered why he hadn't thought to come out sooner. This was immensely more fun than drinking in his hotel room alone. It was much more entertaining to drink with friends and, with the beer and liquor flowing, he was able to do just that. The dance floor in front of him moved like one big wave of bodies along to the awesome beat being played by the DJ. It reminded him of one of their concerts. He loved when everyone in the crowd sang and cried along the lyrics. It made him want to get up and sing. Or, maybe not sing. Killian stood up from the chair, kicking it away from him. It made him want to dance...
"Mate." Will was focused on a lovely blonde woman and did not hear him. "Mate!" He pushed Will roughly, until his friend turned and looked at him, annoyance covering his features.
"What the hell, Killian?" Will's exasperated voice rang out over the music. Killian ignored his friend and jerked his thumb toward the dance floor.
"I wanna dance." A brilliant smile broke across his bandmate's face and he tilted his head in Killian's direction.
"I'm not your keeper, mate. Do whatcha want." Then, Will turned his attention back toward his blonde.
Killian shrugged and turned his body toward the dance floor. He could feel the pulse of the music running through his veins. Shockingly, the drunken haze he was in didn't stop him from making it across the room to the dance floor. In fact, by the time he arrived his feet were already tapping to the rhythm of the music.
On the dance floor, Killian danced to the beat of the dubstep music. He had never been much of a dancer, but that wasn't stopping him now. He jumped up and down, his arms flailing above his head. He felt nothing save the thumping of his heart from his enthusiastic movements. This was fun, this was the freedom he had been craving.
"Alright all of you party people." The DJ broke in at the end of the song. Killian's heart plummeted when he heard the DJ's voice. No, he had been feeling good for the first time in months. Why did he have pause the music now? "Time for a slow one."
He recognized the song as soon as the first note came over the speakers. His heart twisted painfully in his chest when that note was continued by so many more, the song unmistakable to his ears.. He stood in his spot in the middle of the dance floor unable to move, as everyone coupled up around him. It was as if he had been doused in ice water. He mind lost all of the fuzziness from the drinking and he was acutely aware of everything.
Not this song. Please, any song but John Legend's All of Me.
He wanted to scream, to fall to his knees in the middle of the dance floor. But he couldn't. Tears glistened his eyes as he remembered taking Emma into his arms in the middle of the living room. She had fit there so perfectly, like she had been made only for him. Their hands intertwined and he marveled at how small her hands were in his. His face contorted in agony thinking about how she laughed as he twirled her around all of the furniture in the living room - the couch, the coffee table, his recliner. When he whispered the lyrics into her ear, she pressed herself into him and shivered. Her skin, bloody hell, her skin was so soft as he traced small circles into her lower back just under the hem of her shirt. It was one of the best nights of his life. Just him and Emma and their love.
It felt like all of the oxygen had been taken out of the room and he couldn't breathe. His eyes squeezed shut, his chin fell to his chest as he tried to take in a breath. It was then that he noticed his hand, the way his thumb moved across his wedding band. It was a habit he knew he had. A habit he would always have, because that ring would never leave his hand. He needed to get out of here, away from all of these people and their happiness. Turning on his heel, Killian strode determinedly to the exit of the club. He didn't even stop to tell anyone he was leaving.
What had he been thinking going out and pretending his problems were gone? The cold night air hit him like a slap in the face. He should have known he couldn't have a good night out. None of his nights had been good since she walked out of his life.
"Killian, we need to talk."
Malcolm's voice drew his attention from across the room and Killian sat up in his bed. How had he gotten a key to his hotel room? Unless...Killian's hands ran down his exasperated face. Dammit, Robin. How many times did he have to tell the man that he was fine? Yes, he ran out of the nightclub without saying goodbye, then came back to the hotel and got so drunk they considered taking him to the hospital. That was two weeks ago. Robin was making it out to be a bigger issue than it was. He didn't need nor want any help, especially from Malcolm of all people.
"Look, Malcolm...about the nightclub incident. Mate, I…" Killian trailed off as he tried to make up with a good explanation for his behavior. For some reason, suffering from a broken heart didn't seem like it would cut it.
"I dont care about the bloody nightclub incident." Malcolm took a seat in the chair across from Killian. "I care about the money, Killian, and do you know who brings in the money?"
Placing his head in his hands, Killian stared at the comforter on the bed. Of course he knew who brought the money in.
"The fans." Killian lifted his head to look at Malcolm.
"That's right. The fans. Did you know that your fans are worried? They can see a difference in your performances, in your attitude during interviews." Malcolm folded his hands on his lap and gave Killian a pointed look.
Killian resisted the urge to laugh. Really... that was why Malcolm was here, because the fans had noticed a change in his performance. His fucking wife had left him, left him without any explanation as to why. He was entitled to not be at one hundred percent. Bloody hell, they were lucky he was even on this damned tour. In fact, the fans were the only reason he was on the tour.
What would really help him would be talking to Emma. If he could just talk to her and get the explanation he desperately needed, then he could move forward. His hand curled around the comforter into a fist. There had still been no contact on her part, not since what Killian had taken to calling 'the incident.' He still called her everyday, sometimes twice a day, and left a voicemail. He even tried to email her, not that it had gotten him any different of a response.
Killian rubbed the tears from his eyes in frustration. No wonder he was a mess. He was completely in the dark about what he should be doing. Should he give up and stop calling her? Was he supposed to go home or stay on tour? If she would just tell him what she wanted, he would do it. No questions asked.
Malcolm cleared his throat. Killian's red-rimmed eyes met Malcolm's gaze. Sighing, Malcolm shook his head.
"You're a mess, Killian. It's seeping into every part of your life. It needs to stop. Now." Killian nodded his head in agreement before Malcolm continued. "I understand that something big is going on and I feel for you, I do. The problem is it is now affecting ticket sales for future shows. That's something I can't allow to happen."
Killian's heart sank. Ticket sales were being affected? His hand came up to scratch the hair at the base of his neck. That meant that the entire band was being affected - Will, Robin, and Smee. No wonder Robin had been so concerned. This was their livelihood, too. Killian narrowed his eyes. He needed to stop thinking only of himself, he needed to put the band first.
"What do I need to do?" He was determined to fix this. There was no way he would let the rest of the band suffer for his problems.
Malcolm's lips turned up into a mischievous smirk. "It's a crazy idea, but if you can pull it off it just might work. You're not going to like it though."
"Just tell me." Killian took a deep breath and released it.
"The VMAs are in a couple of days. As you know, the band is nominated for Video of the Year among some other award. There is a break in touring so the band can make an appearance and you, Killian, will be going with a date." Malcolm's smirk turned sinister as he raised an eyebrow in Killian's direction.
Killian's stomach twisted violently. No, there was no way this was a good idea.
"Malcolm.."
"No, Killian." His manager interrupted. "You will do this. You will go to the show and you will appear happy. You'll make all of the fans think you are doing fine, that the great Killian Jones is back on top." Malcolm pointed his finger at Killian. "You will do this for your band." His voice left no room for argument.
Killian watched speechless as Malcolm stood and walked out of the hotel room. Once the door shut, he dropped his head into his hands. The idea was crazy, absolutely insane. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. What was Emma going to think? Nothing good, he was sure of that. Sure that if she didn't already hate him, she would after the award show.
He closed his eyes tightly. Fuck. He wanted to say no, to call Malcolm and tell him he wouldn't do it. Then he thought of Robin, who had been his mate since he moved to the states, of Will, who did whatever necessary for the band, and of Smee, who always seemed to be there for Killian when he needed him. He would do this, for them. Ticket sales were dropping and that was his fault. He needed to fix it, fix the problem that he created, and this was their best option.
Snapping his eyes open, Killian looked out of the hotel window to see the view of Cleveland, Ohio. His entire body sagged in despair. I'm so sorry, Emma. Please forgive me.
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