The Past

There was something about being on a ship again that made Christine's heart sing. Yes, it was a pathetic ship of supplies for the prisoners on the island, but that didn't change the fact that she was surrounded by nothing but open water, with salty air tossing her curls in every direction. Her mood was also helped by the fact that she was wearing a clean dress for the first time in a year, and she herself was clean again. She was never taking bathing for granted again.

She liked to imagine that Liam loved the ship too, but maybe it was just the fresh air and the constant gentle rocking that made him cry less. Martha also seemed happy, although Christine still held onto the hope that she was not yet an expert on rat emotions. In contrast, Sari had been almost constantly sick since setting foot on the ship. Even though she'd tried to tell her sister that she'd get used to the waves eventually, Sari had vowed repeatedly between bouts of vomiting that she was never stepping foot on a ship again once she got off this one.

Lady Evelyn had bribed the crew well enough to get the rescue party decent quarters, but the very fact that the crew had been bribed made Christine nervous. To accept bribery was a form of deception; could she trust men who were fundamentally dishonest not to betray her?

Ultimately, she didn't have a choice, but that didn't mean that she had to be happy about it.

When the island prison - a fortress of water-licked stone towering out of the ocean - finally appeared on the horizon, Christine's heart started pounding. What if Edward was dead? Or worse, what if he had lost his mind like the man in the cell next to hers, or now had a chronic illness that would slowly but surely leech away at his life? What if her letter of release didn't work?

"Thank God," Sari moaned beside her, looking pale and slightly green. "At least now the journey is half-over."

Christine glanced at her sister in amusement. "One can hope, anyway," she murmured. Half-over implied that things would go smoothly, and she had stopped being that optimistic somewhere between her father dying and being thrown in prison.

As the ship docked some hours later, Christine gently handed Liam over to her sister.

"You know what to do if something goes wrong," she told her firmly.

Sari looked uncomfortable but nodded.

The Present

"What was the back-up plan?" Emma cut in curiously.

"Bloody hell, Swan, you do enjoy interrupting," Killian said with a glint of humour in his eye.

Emma shot him a dirty look.

He sighed a long-suffering sigh. "Well, the first back-up plan was to escape with Liam and raise him. The second plan was to drown him and herself."

At Emma's startled look, Hook added, "Only if my parents were dead and there was no way to escape capture, of course. Try to remember that capture would have meant death in the best case scenario, and torture or life imprisonment in the worst."

"It's just I would have expected relatives of yours to have... I don't know, a more elaborate plan?"

"There's only so much you can do when backed into a corner," Killian said.

The Past

"From the king himself?"

Christine nodded with a polite smile, trying her best to look convincing.

The man in charge of the prison shrugged. "You heard the girl. Bring the prisoner." He turned to Christine. "Have a seat, my dear."

She eyed the faded armchair behind her dubiously, but sat. The man remained standing, eyeing her with interest.

"Men are rarely freed from this prison. Treason is not a crime the king is likely to forgive, for obvious reasons," he said.

Christine swallowed hard, hand subconsciously tightening around the knife she had hidden beneath her cloak.

"That makes me think that this must be a special case. He wanted your husband out of the way so he could have his way with you?" The man guessed.

Relief flowed through Christine. "Yes, that was exactly it."

She tried to arrange her face into a look of shame. "Then I got ill, and he hasn't looked at me since." She mentally congratulated herself on her clever excuse for looking so sickly after her own bout in prison.

The man grunted. "Pity. The man should get his eyes checked."

Christine pretended to be embarrassed, but alarm bells were beginning to chime in her head. The man was eyeing her up and down like a piece of meat at a market.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "If it pleases you, Captain, might I get some time alone with my husband once he's brought here?"

The man lifted his eyebrows in amusement. "Of course, my dear. Are you sure you wouldn't like some time alone with me first?"

Christine blurted the first thought that came into her mind. "I'm afraid the illness I had was a venereal disease*, Captain. I'm likely still contagious."

The man recoiled. "Oh, of course."

That was the end of all exchanges between Christine and the Captain of the guard.

Christine was beginning to panic (how long had it been since the guard left to get Edward?) when the door to the office swung open.

For a moment, all Christine could do was stare.

The Captain cleared his throat and left with the guard who had brought Edward, and finally Christine had what she'd been dreaming about for a year.

"Oh, Edward," she choked, tears spilling over.

He was barely recognizable. He had always been a well-built man, quite well muscled in comparison to Christine's tiny physique. Now he looked as if he hadn't eaten in months. His eyes were sunken, his hair, usually kept short, was now at his shoulders, and a beard obscured much of his face. His clothes were grey and ripped, and the skin underneath was bruised and bloodied. He had to lean against the wall for support even to stand. However, his eyes still made him indistinguishably Edward. While teary, they were fixed on Christine in an intense stare, like a starving man suddenly offered bread.

Slowly, she walked towards him and warily reached out a hand to touch his cheek. It was wet with tears.

"I told you I would be the one saving you," she said with a weak attempt at a smile.

Edward let out a quiet sob and pulled Christine into his arms.

"We're going to be fine now," she murmured tearfully into his shaking shoulders.

Edward didn't reply, just buried his face into her hair and continued to cry. Christine didn't mind; she needed it just as much as he did. She needed the comfort of his touch to tell her that he was there, he was alive, and anything that had been broken during their separation could be fixed.

"I love you," he told her, his voice hoarse from misuse.

"I know," she replied, gently pressing her lips to his. "Oh God, I've missed you."

"Christine, they..." his voice dissolved into silent sobs that shook his body.

"They hurt you?" Finished Christine softly.

"They hurt you," he replied, holding her more tightly. Edward was a gentleman, but Christine guessed that what he was really trying to say was that she looked as though she'd been to hell and back too.

"Not really. I even made a friend. She's back on the ship. She's a rat-"

A laugh strangled its way out of Edward's throat.

"Oh, and, God, Edward, I have something amazing to show you back on the ship-"

He almost smiled at that. "The rat?"

"No, I almost forgot to say because I saw you and... oh, but, Edward, we have a baby," Christine said, smiling a huge wet smile.

Edward pulled away from her in confusion. "A baby?"

"Yes! I had him three or four months ago in prison and he's ours!" She couldn't have said whether the sound that came out of her throat was a sob or a laugh. "His name is Liam."

"Christine," Edward murmured, and, oddly, her name said everything. It said "I love you", "I missed you", "you idiot, of course it's 'ours'", "I am in awe of you", and a million other things that he needed to say but couldn't find the words for.

And when Edward held Liam for the first time, Liam graced him with one of his newly discovered smiles. Sari cried, Christine cried, Edward cried, Liam did not cry, and Martha... well, Martha didn't cry, but Christine imagined that she was moved all the same because she stayed perfectly perched on the table of their cabin, watching the scene unfold.

The Present

Emma snorted.

"What?"

"Your mom really had a thing with rats," she said, mouth twitching with barely suppressed laughter.

"To be fair, Uncle Gavin was the one who began that one," Killian said with a shrug. "My mother just had a healthy respect for rodents after a year living with them, and was understandably more attuned to their expressive devices. She would probably get on well with Mr. Smee," he added as an afterthought, looking mildly disturbed by the thought.

The Past

That night, as Christine lay in bed with Edward and Liam in between them, she couldn't help but let some reality back into her temporary cloud of euphoria. Once Sari's gentle breathing had evened out into the slow pace of sleep, Christine dared to ask Edward the questions plaguing her mind. He, of course, was not asleep; she felt the tension of pain and fear through the body that she had yet to get used to again now that it had changed so much.

"What now?" She asked Edward softly, staring into his eyes in the dim light that came from the stars and moon shining through the porthole.

"Are you still eager to go to the Southern Isles?" He asked in his rumbling voice that Christine had missed so much.

"Well, I would love that more than anything, but I imagine that would be the first place they would look for us once they realize we're gone. They probably already have," she said with a shudder. Edward squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"You have an idea," Edward prompted, reading her too well as always.

"The last place they would look would be where they would never expect us to go: back to the capital. And we'd have had to go back anyway because of Connor and my father's things; Sari has those hidden with a friend."

Edward sighed. "You're right, of course. Going back there will be painful, though."

"Getting back into life again was always going to be painful," his fiancée pointed out gently.

"We'll have to change our names."

"Maybe not our first ones since they're common enough, but the last, yes. I would've changed my last name anyway, so I can hardly complain," she grinned.

"I never much liked the name Larkin, anyway," Edward said.

"It seems far too pretty for your father," Christine agreed with a snigger.

She heard a sharp intake of breath from Edward. "Your father's name was Jonathan, correct?"

"Mmm," Christine agreed.

"What about 'Johnson'?"

"Too obvious," Christine said.

"Jones?"

Christine paused.

"It still means something to us, but it's a bit less obvious," Edward said.

Christine couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. The thought of making her father part of her identity in such a meaningful way was the greatest gift anyone could give her.

"It's perfect. Thank you," she murmured. Edward kissed her palm in response.

The ship docked during the day, but Christine and her family waited until it was dark to leave. To her relief, Gavin was there to meet her. He was barely recognizable with his brown beard actually trimmed to an appropriate length, but his bright smile was the same.

She ran to give him a hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

"My pleasure," he said with a smile.

His face lit up even brighter when a squeak sounded from Christine's pocket.

"Martha!"

Sari shuddered as the fat rat squeaked in excitement at her reunion with her old cellmate.

"Connor?" Christine asked, her chest tight with worry.

Gavin's expression fell slightly. "He's somewhere safe, not to worry. The Lady Evelyn gave me some money to give to you, and I took the liberty of renting a room. Your brother is there right now. Of course, my assistance comes with a price..."

Edward limped over, Liam cradled in his arms. "What do you want?" He asked warily.

"No need to be so concerned. Just to remain in whatever home you buy until I can get my own. Clearly, going back to court is not an option," he said.

"Of course. It's the least we can do," Christine agreed.

The journey to the room Gavin had rented was as painful as waiting for Edward had been. Connor had been in prison for years now and was far younger than Edward, which meant that the experience likely had a more severe effect on him. A sense of foreboding filled Christine as she ran up the stairs to see him.

"Christine, wait!" Gavin called, dashing up behind her.

She stopped reluctantly, trying hard to hide her impatience. "What?"

"I got a doctor to see to the worst of his injuries, but-"

"Oh God," Christine moaned, running the final steps to the door and yanking it open.

She wouldn't have recognized Connor if she hadn't known he would be there. Foolishly, she had assumed that Connor couldn't possibly look much worse than Edward; he was only a child, and she had assumed that meant that even the cruelest jailer would have shown some mercy. However, he was pale and skeletally thin, his blonde hair sparse and unhealthy-looking. He lay in bed, so blankets covered the worst of his injuries, but worst of all were his eyes. They were blank as the stared at the wall, just as the madman next to Christine's cell had been.

She rushed to his side, and, to her relief, his eyes focused on her. The relief was short-lived; before she could say anything, he had opened his mouth to scream.

She tried to reach out to him, but he flinched away. "It's me, sweetheart," she said desperately. "It's Christine."

After what felt like an eternity, his screaming subsided into sobs and shaking. Christine felt herself start to cry as well, but couldn't even care enough to summon up any embarrassment. This was all her fault. Her brother had been tortured because of her, and now he was barely even there anymore.

"Don't give up on him just yet," Gavin said quietly from the doorway.

Christine shot him a glare. "Of course I won't give up on him. He's my brother. He's going to come back."

Gavin nodded, but he didn't look convinced.

The Jones house was tiny, in one of the poorer sections of the city, but Christine loved it anyway. It had a living room that doubled as a kitchen at the front of the house, and two bedrooms at the back. It looked almost like a little cottage in the city, and somehow, in spite of everything, it felt safe.

For the moment, Christine, Edward, and Liam shared one bedroom while Sari, Gavin, and Martha shared the other. Connor slept in the living room in a bed Christine specially made up for him, so that he could feel like a part of the family without having to leave his bed.

Edward began to look more like himself now that he was clean, shaven, and beginning to heal. He was even starting to look for work along with Gavin, and they often found the odd job, particularly down at the docks where people often needed a hand.

Christine began to work again as well. She found a small pub a few streets down from her where she could sing about once a week and earn a decent wage. The rest of her time was spent with Connor and Liam, when she wasn't ill; her time in prison had left her with a feeling of weakness and a cough that wouldn't go away.

Connor recovered enough to recognize her and respond, but often seemed to disappear into his head for flashbacks. Every night, Christine was woken up at least once by his screaming. Christine's presence was the only thing that would calm him down enough to sleep.

"I want papa," he would cry, and Christine's heart broke a little bit each time.

Sometimes, when he was lost in the middle of a flashback, he even became violent. The first time he had punched Christine in the face had been a nasty surprise, but now she was becoming used to his flailing limbs and frequent angry outbursts.

"Do you feel like getting up?" She asked one day, watching Connor eyeing Edward playing with Liam longingly.

His expression turned sour. "No, I don't feel like getting up. If I wanted to, I'd get up! Damn you, Christine. You think you know everything, don't you? You think you can just read my bloody mind! Well, you can't! You don't know anything! Nothing at all!"

"Alright," Christine sighed, brushing a curl from her forehead. Edward frowned at Connor, looking as though he wanted to say something, but Christine shook her head. The look didn't pass by Connor, though.

He let out a laugh of disgust. "You think you're the man of the house? Well, if you're such a man, why don't you tell me off? You coward! What, afraid of offending me? Afraid I'll hate you just like your whole bloody family?"

"Connor!" Christine reprimanded.

Edward stood up, eyes flashing.

"Edward, don't!" Christine begged, grasping his arm gently. "He doesn't know what he's saying."

A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he nodded tightly.

"Thank you." She gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Christine!" Sari called, entering the house breathlessly.

With a sigh, Christine moved to her sister. "Yes?"

"Can I talk to you outside for a moment?"

Christine nodded, wiping dirty hands on her apron with a last glance at her glaring brother and fiancée.

"What is it?" Christine asked.

Sari stalled, scuffing her feet against the dirty road.

"Well, I'm sure you've noticed, but, well, um, Gavin... he, and me, of course-"

"You're engaged," Christine guessed without hesitation.

Sari's dark eyes almost popped out of her head. "Yes! How did you know?"

Christine chuckled. "You make eyes at each other all the time. You flirt constantly. You kiss whenever you think I'm not looking. It was obvious. I think you'll make a lovely couple."

In fact, the idea was quite thrilling to her. She loved Gavin and Sari both so much that the thought of them getting married made her want to jump up and down in excitement. She could just picture them in a few years, with children of their own and Martha's. They would be a beautiful family.

"Anyway, I know that you and Edward wanted to wait until you were both feeling well again before marrying, but now that a year has passed, perhaps we could get married together?" Sari blushed at her hopeful words.

"I'd love that very much," Christine said.

Edward was also in agreement, and the four were married on Christmas day in 1794. Jayne snuck out to attend the wedding and paid for a wedding portrait as their wedding gift.

The Present

"You saw that, I presume?" Killian asked.

"Yes," Emma said, picturing the cheerful woman and the serious man she had seen and trying to reconcile them with the tale Killian was weaving.

"It's the only picture I had of my parents," he said somewhat wistfully.

"Have," Emma corrected with a smile.

Killian smiled back, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Yes, of course."

The Past

March of 1795 rolled around, and Christine found herself waiting with baited breath. It seemed that major things always happened at this time of year: falling in love, being arrested, escaping prison, that sort of thing. That was why, when a tearful Jayne rolled into their now much emptier home since Gavin and Sari had moved down the street, Christine was not in the least surprised.

"What happened?" Christine asked worriedly.

Jayne threw herself into Christine's arms, sobbing too hard for Christine to make out the words. Connor rolled his eyes and turned over to face the wall.

"What's going on?" Edward asked, hurrying out of what had become Liam's room.

"Father found out about mother helping you and now she's going to die!" Jayne wailed.

And, just like that, a world that had just began to right itself turned upside down once again.

*An STI