Killian was torn somewhere between intrigued and his second cup of coffee as he watched the breakfast scene in front of him continue to evolve. On the walk to the diner that morning, he hadn't even planned on ordering - hell, he had been trying to figure out how to avoid even a single mug of whatever caffeine Granny had brewing on the menu that day. A few words, several honest glances from his son, and almost half a pint of syrup later - well, a lot had changed.

He watched the pair of them with disbelief. Killian hadn't ever even entertained the idea of seeing his father again until a few months ago and the meetings they'd had prior to this one were either heated or oh so cold. He'd never imagined he would be across the table from the man who'd left him alone as a boy. He'd never dreamed his own son would be so mesmerized by the circumstances - but he was. Yeah, that much was abundantly clear.

"See - these are pancakes," Liam explained, his fingers already rather sticky. "Papa thinks they are too sweet, but I like them with lots of syrup like this."

Killian smirked, shaking his head at his son's narration. It was enough to gather his own father's attention, the newly claimed grandfather lifting his gaze carefully. He still looked a little insecure in his role and Killian nodded to assure him that he was surprisingly doing a fine job. The appreciative smile he received in returned shouldn't have made his heart swell like it did.

"Because the first thing you need is more sugar, my boy," Killian groaned, raising an eyebrow at his little boy. "You better go wash up - look, there's Ruby. I bet she'd be willing to help you if you ask nicely."

"I'm always a gentleman, papa," Liam reminded him, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," Killian glared playfully. "I know. Now, go on-"

"I'm going, I'm going."

He allowed a laugh to leave his throat at the way Liam skipped toward Ruby with his messy hands. She gave him an endearing grin before glancing up at Killian with amusement, nodding toward the washroom so the boy would follow her. Liam glanced back at the table quickly, the hint of a successful smile quickly paired with deep dimples.

Good form, my boy, Killian thought as he watched them go.

"He looks like him."

He'd been nervous momentarily - the instant he realized they were alone, he wondered what his father would have to say. He didn't expect that line though. Not at all.

"Aye," Killian said softly, trying not to think too hard about the past. "Fortunate kid, right?"

"You could say that," his father agreed, finally tearing his eyes away from the path Liam had followed. "But he's got a lot of you in him too, Killian. You and your brother always did look a lot alike."

Killian tried not to flinch at the sting of his words - it had been several decades, yes, but his older brother's passing still wasn't a topic he could easily discuss. He didn't prefer to journey down that part of memory lane - even with his now present father available as a traveling companion.

"He's a good boy - smart and perceptive," his father commented, his elation that Killian had allowed this meeting still beaming. "Lot like you at that age."

"Yeah - at that age," he replied curtly, trying not to offer up too much trust. "Things have changed a bit since me at five years old. That was a long time ago."

"I know."

A simmering silence developed between them, filling the air with a tension that threatened to snap. He watched his father try to arrange the right words, his mouth opening with intent but dropping closed shortly thereafter. Maybe there wasn't anything to be said. Maybe what was done was simply done and they didn't need to keep up this charade - the one he'd agreed to for Liam's sake. Forgiveness was still a foreign term, something he hadn't dared to think about until he'd seen his father so wrapped up in the love of his grandson. He still had no idea what to do with that observation.

"Killian, f-for what it's worth or not," the man started nervously, his eyes a dark shade of guilt. "I'm sorry-"

"All clean, papa!"

Liam arrived back at his side, holding up his syrup-less hands in victory. Allowing himself to be ripped from the conversation he wasn't sure he wanted to have, Killian smiled down at his own little boy. Out of the corner of his stare, he watched his father shift in his seat.

Perhaps it was time to go-

"Papa, can Captain Pop-Pop come to the docks with us?"

Killian gripped the edge of the tabletop, his mind reeling at the question. He'd barely mustered enough courage and will to stagger into the diner for the first meal of the day with this man from his broken past. The docks were their thing - his and little Liam's - but long ago, he'd shared that location many times with his own father. He tried not to recall the way they'd pointed out sailboats in the distance and how he'd climb atop his father's shoulders with those safe hands to guide him.

He tried not to remember the waiting - the hours of waiting he'd done that during that breezy dawn at a different port in a different time as his older brother held his hand tightly.

"Do you think he forgot, brother?"

"Of course not," Liam had assured him. "He's just running late, Killian. He'll be here."

He nodded, accepting his brother's decisive words as the truth. Their father was likely just sidetracked with something. He'd show soon. He always did.

"Maybe we ought to walk this way," Liam said, confusion in his expression. "Maybe he'll see us if we stand over there."

Killian's feet followed his brother's, the pace a bit much for his little legs. His eyes scanned the horizon as they found a better spot to watch for him. As seagulls cawed overhead and his older brother rocked back and forth on his heels, it became clear that somehow this particular morning was going to be quite unfamiliar.

"Oh, that's okay, Liam," the eldest man said quickly, perhaps sensing the uncertainty. "I don't think today would be a good-"

"You can come if you'd like to."

The agreement fell from Killian's lips before he could stop it. His dad looked cautious, his eyes growing studious as he tried to decide if it really was okay. The hopeful look on Liam's face seemed to be all the convincing he needed after a moment.

"I'd like that."

Killian sucked in a millionth shaky breath, standing to follow his son's almost gallop to the exit. Liam had paused on anxious feet, his knowledge of the door's weight obviously retained. He grinned at his young son and reached to lift him to the typical perch on his paternal shoulders. His heart had to flutter a bit at the way Liam rested his tiny hands and chin on the crown of his head, doing so predictably and without second thought. The trust his little boy had in him is always astounding. He'd come to live for it. He would never lose the desire to earn it.

He sensed a strange hesitation behind him and chanced a look back in curiosity. It was clear that something was causing the delay of his father following close behind and as his eyes zeroed in on the man's expression, he saw it. His father's eyes were hinged on the sight of his own son and Liam, some sort of admiration filling his features as he watched them engage in an act that was so regular.

No words had to be said. His father - the man he was convinced didn't give a second though to him after he ran off and the same man who he was sure was incapable of caring at all about his boys - was proud of him. Killian knew such a thing shouldn't be as fulfilling as it definitely was.

"Dad," Killian said without thinking, his own gaze widening at the foreign word. "Are you….ready?"

His father blinked furiously, his eyelashes battling the wealth of tears begging to fall. He stood slowly with shaking knees as a most genuine smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. It was the sight of a man being given a chance - and Killian knew there was noway this estranged man would let it slip by.

"Yeah I am," his father confirmed gently. "More than you'll ever know."