A/N: Sorry this took me soo long to update, but writer's block is real and I was completely stumped on how to introduce this next segment of the story! I hope you bear with me as things get less fluffy and much more complicated between these two! Hope you like the installment,as always it means the world for you guys to let me know your thoughts on the chapter! It means so much that y'all take the time to read my ramblings!
-Steph

Chapter Seven- Fool's Gold.

Big, blue eyes. That's all I could think about, that's all I could see when I would close my eyes, tufts of spiky black hair and big, blue eyes. After waking up, realizing that Killian was no longer in the room, and getting dressed I walked out the room not expecting to see a flabbergasted Killian Jones holding a child, with tufts of spiky black hair and big, blue eyes. I was not expecting to see such a gorgeous woman sitting across him either. I was not expecting to feel the unmistakable pang of jealousy bubbling in the pit of my stomach at the sight of the seemingly picture perfect family in front of me.

I had to clear my throat to make my presence noticed, my instinct guiding me to immediately mark some territory that I had somehow internalized into thinking that it belonged to me. Killian looks up surprised, almost like he had forgotten I was ever in the other room, almost as if he forgot that I even existed. The woman—whom I presumed was Milah, his ex—gave me a demure smile, failing slightly at covering her annoyance at my presence in Killian's apartment. The toddler gave me a lopsided, drooling smile, to which I recoiled almost instantly seeing that I am at the stage in my life where I find babies borderline repulsive. I am hoping that my motherly instincts kick in the moment I push a little monster out, but right now the mere sight of them makes me queasy and my biological clock is a far cry from starting to tick—I have just recently turned twenty-five after all—but, at least the toddler seemed happy to see me.

We stay in silence for an incredibly awkward length of time—save for Baby Demon babbling incoherencies—Killian was unable to find the words to start a conversation in which I am included, and Milah refusing to look at me in the eye.

"I thought you were alone." She says to him slowly, completely ignoring my presence. Killian scowls at her and I bite my cheek to refrain myself from saying a smartass remark. I can see why she wasn't a fan favorite.

"I'm not." Killian snaps.

"Obviously." Milah responds haughtily, her English accent clipped and her disdain for me entirely evident. I swear if this weren't such an awkward situation, I'd punch her in the face.

"I'd thank you not to be rude to my—" Killian starts and my heart half swells at him coming to my defense again.

"Girlfriend?" Milah scoffs as she interrupts him before giving my entire self a sweeping glance.

"—Guest." He continues, his lips pursed and eyes flaming. I won't lie and say that the way he corrected her didn't hurt me. I know full well that I'm not his girlfriend, but still. I thought I was more than just a guest. I feel uneasy being caught in the midst of the tension that's palpable between them, and I suddenly cannot believe I've been standing here all this time. Wanting to get through the predicament I had somehow found myself in, I shake my head and thrust my hand towards her. She recoils at my sudden movement, probably thinking that my fist was going to make contact with her face—good.

"Hi, I'm Emma." I say confidently, a sickly sweet smile on my face. I made sure that my handshake was firm and meaning business, no matter how incredibly uncomfortable this all was she wasn't going to get the best of me. Milah mumbles her name, taking my hand limply in hers and going along with the shake. "Who's this little guy?" I continue, trying to keep the conversation going so we don't hit a silence as awkward as the last one.

"This is his son, Peter." Milah tells me, her gaze finally meeting mine head on, a smirk gracing her delicate features. Killian's eyes do not meet mine, and I can't say I blame him.

"Your son." I repeat and I must look like a total idiot. "I didn't know you had a son, Killian." I say softly. I feel bile rising up my throat coupled with unwelcome tears starting to prickle at the corner of my eyes. The familiar sense of crippling anxiety starts swirling around my stomach and my chest constricts tightly, making the exact location of my ribcage palpable by their pressure on my lungs. Had he lied to me? No, he would've mentioned a child.

"Neither did I, love." Out of the corner of my eye I see Milah glare at the use of the pet name.

"How old is he?" I ask her with a smile, attempting to make the conversation easier on Killian. I look at Baby Demon's big blue eyes and notice that, though blue, they're not at all reminiscent of Killian's and they don't look like Milah's either. It must be some combination of the two, I decide.

"He's fifteen months." Milah says proudly and I fight the urge to roll my eyes at her. Killian doesn't hold back his disdain though and he rolls his eyes without remorse. We've had that conversation before, the one that asks why parents do that. Fifteen months. Your child is fucking one year and three months old, lady. Why is that so hard to say?

Milah takes Baby Demon back into her arms and I see Killian fixing on him a smile that reaches his eyes. I can't stop thinking about what this would mean for us, for what we have…or rather, what we don't have. A child only mildly complicates things, mildly complicates the delicate situation I am already in. Sure, the paparazzi would have a field day at the prospect of the fact that Killian Jones now has an entire separate family in addition to a relationship with me. But my mind can't help but zoom into the possibility of there ever being something real between him and me. With another family in the way, and the love he already harbors for her, how could I ever be any competition? How could I have any real importance in his life? I think that there is the real complication. I passed through many a broken family to ever even dare to put another child in the same situation because of my own selfish reasons.

He turns to look at me and the smile falls off his face when he meets my gaze. He must sense that I'm nervous so I resolve to give him a reassuring smile. He matches it, smiling softly at me, but knowing that my mind is clouded with confusion and hopelessness.

"I should go, give you guys some time to catch up. I'll see you later Kil." I say softly, eyeing the trio with a longing deeply rooted in my history of broken families. I can't do that to Baby Demon, no matter how much I dislike kids. I won't do that to Killian either. I stand before Killian has a chance to protest, which I knew he would, and start making my way towards the door. Grabbing my purse off the coatrack next to the door, I quickly exit Killian's apartment and walk towards the elevator. I had heard him excuse himself to Milah and start following me to the hallway.

"Emma, wait." I hear him say behind me. His legs are longer than mine and he catches up to me in a matter of seconds, his hand hooking itself around the crook of my elbow and gently tugging me towards him. "Wait, please. Don't run." He says softly, his blue eyes focusing themselves intently on my eyes.

"I wasn't going to." I respond quietly—a bold lie—and he shakes his head at me. "Yes, you were." He says, his hands intimately caressing my face. "I know you." He smiles, before capturing my lips in a soft kiss. All I want is to completely let myself go in this kiss but I can't.

"Stop." I say weakly, my palms flat on his chest pushing him away from me. "I can't do this." He sighs, but complies nonetheless.

"What can't you do?" He asks softly, his forehead lightly touching mine as he asks the question. He then lifts his head up and looks at me expectantly. "Is it because of Milah?"

"I can't break you guys up." I say, unable to look at him directly until he guides my gaze back onto his, his finger under my chin.

"We aren't together, Emma." He tells me plainly, clearly referring to Milah and him. The elevator dings behind me but I can only focus on the look he's giving me, almost as if he's trying to convey his feelings for me. But it's not real, none of this is real.

"Neither are we." I tell him, turning away from him and pressing the button to call the elevator again. I need to get out of here.

"I know but —"

"No, you owe it to them to try. I know you want to." I say forcefully, turning back towards him and trying to make him see that his place is with his family, not a washed-up wild child actress trying to get the pieces of her life back together.

"Aye, but I made a promise to you lass and I intend to keep it. It would be bad form not to uphold it." He tells me seriously, his eyebrows knit together in determination.

"I don't expect you to, not anymore. Peter, he complicates things and I won't let you have broken family because of me." I snap. Why won't he get it? 'Go, be with your family, you have a chance to fix it, to mend it, so do it!' I want to say but I know it's no use. He's so damn stubborn.

"And I refuse to let you throw away all the hard work you've put into getting back into acting, Emma." He snaps back at me, making me smile at how easy it is for us to go back to our initial ways. He shakes his head, a smile threatening to break out on his lips as well. "I agree, things are complicated right now, but we'll figure it out."

"Then I'm going to have to talk to Mags about how to strategize about this." I tell him and he nods, seemingly happy that he's not about to lose me just yet. Killian presses the button for the elevator, calling it for a third time during our conversation, and when he drops his hand from it he grabs mine instead. He gives me a rueful smile as he traces circles in the crevice between my index finger and thumb with his calloused own. "You're my best friend, Emma Swan." He says, making my heart swell up in my chest, "I'd hate for anything to ruin what we have."

"I need to go." I say thickly, and he nods absentmindedly, watching as I get on the elevator.

"Swan," he starts as the elevator doors start to close and he thrusts his arm in between them to stop the doors from closing, "do you reckon I can still kiss you on the weekends?" His wink is accompanied with a sly grin.

"I don't think that'd be a good idea anymore, Kil." I say sheepishly, not because I didn't want to kiss him anymore, but because I didn't feel remotely comfortable doing so as of today.

"I thought so. Worth a shot though." He grins, taking my hand one last time and squeezing it before stepping back and letting the doors close between us.

-/-

The tears consumed me the moment I got home. My mind racing telling me that it was my fault, that I should have never gotten mixed up with him in the first place, that it was for the best, that he was with his family. I both tried to convince myself that the decision I took was the honorable one and that I was an idiot for even thinking that things would somehow turn out different the second time I opened myself up to a man. I had called Mary Margaret on my way over and left her a message saying that she needed to come to my house immediately.

I hear Mary Margaret enter my house half an hour later. I've been sitting on the concrete lip around my pool, just staring into nothing as my feet dangle inside the water. Why do I feel like I've lost something if I never truly had it?

"Alright, I'm here! I brought White Zinfandel and Boston Crèmes and this better be good because David and I were about to—oh, my God Emma what happened?" She must be referring to my blotchy and tear-stained face. I've been crying freely, unable to stop. I shrug and go back to looking at the view of the Valley. Next thing I know, a Boston Crème is being thrust next to my face. "What happened?" Mary Margaret asks again, this time more serious, her tone more patient.

"You have to promise me that you won't freak out." I say, dragging my forearm underneath my nose, wiping the wetness that had accumulated between the tears and the snot. Disgusting, I know.

"You know I can't make you that promise. I'm too anxious and OCD to promise you something like that." She replies, a soft reassuring smile on her face as she sits next to me and dips her legs in the water next to mine. "Mags, Killian and I have been..." I start but she interjects.

"Messing around."

"You knew?" I look up at her, seeing Mary Margaret raise her shoulders at her as she grins at me.

"You're not that good of an actress." She teases, bumping her shoulder against mine and bringing the Boston Crème up to her mouth.

"That's a lie." I scoff, bumping her back.

"It is, I just saw how you looked at him and how he looked at you. I figured something was up since those first few months you'd been at each other's throats, ready to maim the other and then you were sharing adoring looks." Mary Margaret tells me matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, well shit just hit the fan, Mags." I say, looking at the donut in my hand, wishing I had the smallest inclination to eat it, but I just could not bring myself to even bring it up to my mouth.

"What happened, Em?" I don't want to tell her, telling her only makes it real. Makes the fact that the guy that I was starting to develop feelings for is now permanently unavailable. Because no matter how much I love him, I won't get in between a family. I won't break the chance he's got to mend whatever he has with the woman he loves.

Because I love him, I'll set him free.

Oh, my god. I love him.

I love Killian Jones.

But he's unavailable and that's just my luck, so there's no point in denying what happened, or giving myself a shred of hope that he feels the same way about me.

"He has a kid, Mags." I say, and she stays quiet. Her eyes are wide as saucers when I turn to look at her. "No he doesn't. He was vetted." She replies, her anxiety seeping into her voice. The way it always does when Mags feels like she's starting to lose control. "Well the ex-girlfriend who broke him came by his apartment this morning, toddler in tow." I say bitterly, finally taking the Boston Crème up to my mouth and stuffing half of it in one bite. There, I said it. I said it, and now it is real.

And he's lost to me forever.

"I can see why you called. This complicates things…but we could use it to your advantage."

"How?"

"Well, if the public and the suits see you with his kid, they can't deny that you're truly moving on and deeply committed to him." Mags tells me methodically, and I can see her altering the original plan to this new one.

"I was afraid you were going to insinuate that I have to take care of the kid." I say darkly, reaching back to the box of donuts and getting another one. The prospect of taking care of Baby Demon is not at all an exciting one for me. It's not just that I don't particularly like children, they're fine, it's the fact that whenever I'm left with one I have no idea what to do with it. It's like making a cat babysit. "Do you think he'll be okay with that?" Mags asks, typing on her phone—no doubt telling David about the development. "I think so, he was very adamant when he was telling me that he wasn't about to walk out on his commitment to me." I answer idly as I focus on the way the water swirls around my feet.

"Well he can't, he signed a contract." She responds condescendingly, looking at me seriously. "I know, but I was willing to release him from it." I tell her, smiling sheepishly, a sigh leaving my lips. Mags smiles sadly at me, and I can pinpoint pity in her face, she knows I feel something for Killian, but she's not about to say anything about it. Instead she places her hand on top of mine and squeezes it comfortingly. "You'll be okay, Emma. This will work out, I promise." I nod, taking my feet out of the water and lifting myself up from the concrete lip.

"So, you and David, huh?" I say, looking down at her, handing her my hand to help her up. "When were you planning on telling me about that?"

"When were you planning on telling me about Killian?"

"That's different. We were just fooling around."

"We've only been on a couple of dates, but he's incredible, Em. He's just so charming." David Nolan is not charming and I refuse to believe it. Every time I've seen him he's been the most taciturn man I've ever been around. Then again, I don't personally know him and maybe when he doesn't have to constantly worry about Killian and he's around Mags he lets loose. I smile at my friend's content face, pleased that at least one of us is happy.

-/-

I haven't heard from Killian in three weeks. That's a lie, we've sent each other messages, gotten coffee twice, and met up at a strategic meeting with Mary Margaret and David last week, but he tends to go back to his apartment quickly afterwards. Not that I blame him, finding out you have a son with the woman you love—not me, unfortunately—would take up most of your time, most of your attention, most of your heart. Liam texted me livid after he found out about Peter, shoving down his theory that Killian isn't Peter's biological father and Milah is—once again—duping him and taking advantage of him down my throat.

That would be incredible, if Killian wasn't Baby Demon's biological father, but I don't want to be that selfish. Killian is happy with the two of them, happier than I have ever seen him. Even if he wasn't the actual father, I still wouldn't want him to find out, he already loves Peter so much that I'm convinced that if he finds out Peter isn't his, Killian would be beyond devastated. Besides, Killian and I have come to a truce now. Spending the past few weeks with Milah has rekindled the feelings he used to have for her, the unabridged love he has for her. Therefore now, for the cameras and the general public, Killian and I are in love, but behind closed doors there's nothing there anymore. Behind closed doors he's with Milah again, much to Liam's anger and my heart's dismay.

March has been uneventful, and with Coachella looming around the corner and the Rolly Jogers scheduled to perform the second weekend, even if I wanted to see him he'd be too busy with rehearsal. I've been hanging out a lot with Ruby lately. I've even had a cameo in her show last week when we went shopping in Beverly Hills. When I told her that Killian has a kid—Mag's idea…Ruby makes a scene everywhere and the word that Killian has a child with his ex-lover would have been tweeted mere seconds after I had told her. That way, when the paparazzi see us with a child they know where it comes from and I get christened St. Emma Swan, Patron Saint of Stepmothers—Ruby merely recoiled, scowling at the idea of a snotty kid.

She's having a party tonight, Ruby is. I don't really feel like going, but ever since I started hanging out with Killian, I kind of put my other friends on hold…something Ruby hasn't let me forget. I figure that I have to move on from Killian, give myself some time alone, maybe meet some handsome stranger and have the same arrangement with him that Killian has with Milah. It's funny how things have changed since last November when Killian and I first met. It's funny how I barely even think about Neal anymore, Killian having being my sole focus. I can't deny that I feel just a little bit angry at Killian. He told me that I was his best friend, he kissed me outside the elevator, and for the past three weeks I've barely heard anything from him. I have barely seen him, I have barely had any glimpse into his life. When we were alone in the coffee shop, he was on his phone. When I message him, wanting to talk to my best friend, he doesn't answer until three hours later. Part of me feels guilty for being angry, but mostly I validate my anger when I think of his pseudo-abandonment.

You're my best friend, Emma Swan. I'd hate for anything to ruin what we have. Yeah, right. Little did he know that my pushing him into fixing his little family would ruin what we have by proxy.

I sigh as I get ready a week later. I really am in no mood to go out tonight, but Ruby insists. However, I settle on a black jumpsuit, the thin spaghetti straps crossing across my back in a deep X, and some platform heels. My hair, is swept up into a high ponytail, my lips are painted a dark, velvety plum, and my cat eyeliner has been swept up dramatically. I feel like I'm trying to hard, having been used to wearing as little makeup as possible around Killian.

Stop it, stop thinking about Killian.

He has a family, he is happy.

I get to Ruby's house around ten thirty, her massive mansion already buzzing with the crowd of people that have been invited. I make my way towards the bar and order a Long Island Iced Tea, my drink of choice when I want to get fucked up incredibly fast. I honestly think I'm angrier at myself than anything else, I should've told Killian that I didn't want to take a break, that I wanted to stay with him, that I would still kiss him on the weekends, that Milah could go back to wherever she came from because he was mine, and she had her chance. But no, once again I didn't think of what I wanted, I thought about what he should have wanted, never mind that for weeks it seemed that what he wanted was me. I thrust him into this family, I made the decision, I made the mistake.

I down what's left of my drink, and ask for another one and down half of the new one in one gulp.

"Easy there, lass. We don't want to rush you out of here in a hospital." The familiar accent makes my heart skip a beat, but I know that it doesn't belong to Killian but Graham, his best friend.

"I'm in a mood, Humbert." I tell him dryly, walking back to an empty loveseat in a darkened corner of the room. I roll my eyes as I sense him following me.

"I can see that. When your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend shows up with a baby, I wouldn't expect anything less from you." He says just as dry, just as bitter, and sits next to me.

"Have you talked to him?" I ask him seriously, knowing that if he's just as bitter as I am then I'm not the only one that has trouble accepting the way events have unfolded.

"Not outside of rehearsal, he's absolutely infatuated with the woman and the child. He won't listen to reason, the kid doesn't even look like him." Graham scoffs, taking a sip of the glass of whiskey that he had been nursing since he found out.

"I take it you share Liam's theory that Peter isn't his?" I ask wryly, and he nods. "It's not, it can't be. You don't know Milah, Emma. She's a viper, a social climbing viper." I'm glad to hear that I'm not the only one who dislikes the woman. From what I have gathered, she was married when she met Killian and it wasn't until they were midway through the affair that she confessed to the existence of a husband. Killian had already been so infatuated with her, so deeply in love with her that he didn't care and kept the ruse, preferring to be with her even though she was still technically married to her husband, than not at all. She had then told him that she had gotten the divorce, and it only took Killian a second to put a ring on her finger and moved her into his apartment. They went on tour, and Mila came with them and, as usual, a huge fight ensued that made Milah retreat back to LA and when Killian got home he found his things in the hallway, the locks changed, and Milah's husband on his way out. "I can see that, she wasn't exactly welcoming to me when I first met her." I reply bitterly, the mention of the woman enough to warrant my desire to punch her in the face. "Aye, and she was most likely at her best when you did meet her." I nod and we stay quiet for a while, I go back to the bar to get another Long Island and find him looking at me pensively when I return.

"Are you alright? It seemed like you and Kil were getting on pretty well before she showed up." He says straightforwardly. I like that there's a no-nonsense air to Graham, it's down-to-earth, and comforting.

"I'm fine, Graham. Really, I am. We had just become really close friends after spending all that time together." He chuckles at that, raising his hand in surrender when he sees me glaring at him.

"I'd say you lot were closer than that, if I were to base my opinion on when we walked in on you basically having intercourse at the studio." He says and I feel my skin get flushed around my chest and neck, a tell tale sign that I was embarrassed.

"That was a one time thing." I say flustered.

"Liar." Graham gives a dry chuckle. "Do you mind if we change the subject?" I ask hurriedly, extremely uncomfortable at the direction the conversation has taken. "Not at all." he responds and we fall into an easy conversation. I had never really talked to Graham before, short of a few exchanges when I had been at rehearsal or during a gig. Most of our conversations were in passing, a simple hello and a compliment on their playing but I didn't really know anything about the members of the Rolly Jogers, save for Killian and Liam. I find that Graham is funny, that his accent gets thicker with each passing drink, and that he recently adopted a wolf hybrid from the LA animal shelter, half wolf and half Siberian Husky he said. He shows me pictures of her—Snow, he had called her—she's small, no older than three months, and I make him promise me to let me play with her. We take turns buying each other shots of Fireball, our movements and mental capacities getting sloppier by each passing hour. He makes me laugh all night long. I always thought that he was quiet, and quite rude but he's apparently very good at impressions and he has a knack for imitating a wide variety of celebrities—most notably Jon Snow from Game of Thrones—and an uncanny impression of Will Scarlet. He tells me stories of how he and Killian would get into trouble during their time at university, and tells me about the pranks they tend to pull while they're on tour—mostly on Liam, because he's the one that needs to loosen up the most, behind David of course. I tell him that Mary Margaret and David are an item now, to which he responds, "It's about damn time!"

The night is turning out better than I expected, with Graham making me feel light and free, and thoughts of Killian far in the back of my mind. He's an amazing dancer, and given the right amount of shots, he becomes the life of the party. My mind is hazy and my judgment clouded by inebriation but I know that I'm attracted to him, at least in part. His green eyes are warm and his light brown hair is wavy—and all I can think about is threading my fingers through his hair, to see if it's as soft as it looks—and I know that he's looking at me in the same way, the way his hand snakes low around my waist, pulling me closer to him as we dance. It's intimate, it's full of wanting, it's deliberate.

"He's a fool to let you go." He slurs quietly against my ear, making my skin erupt in goosebumps. Maybe this is okay. Maybe this is what I need. Maybe what I need is someone that doesn't have attachments, someone who wants me and can have me.

He's Killian's best friend.

Killian and I were never a thing. We were never real.

But you love him.

And he loves someone else. Besides, the foundation of our relationship might as well have been built on broken glass, we were to broken to last. Graham is here, he's tangible, and he's interested.

"Are you going to be a fool too?" I ask him softly, smiling at the way his hands tighten his grip around my waist and his green eyes focus on mine. "Absolutely not." He responds before placing his lips on mine, capturing my lips in a soft but firm kiss. I know I shouldn't be kissing someone who isn't Killian in public, much less his band mate, but the room is dark and foggy, and he's here and so am I, and I want this.

A/N- So, whatcha think? don't hate me too much! I think I'll be updating Awake My Soul next and alternate between updating stories! If you're not reading that one I suggest you check it ouuuuut ;)