Title: Finding Home With You

Warning: Contains spoilers from Season 4.

Author's Note: I know that last chapter was horrid. And you all asked so nicely for more updates. So I decided to post another one as quick as possible.

Please don't leave, because I killed off a character for the continuation of the story line.

I mean it says in the summary that Regina doesn't get her happily ever after, so really I gave you guys a HUGE head's up.

Since Killy is the only good thing about this fic right now, I'll give you his perspective in this chap

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time characters.

Summary: (Lieutenant Duckling!AU) What would have happened if Emma and Henry couldn't help Regina get her happily ever after? Now stuck in the story the Author wrote them into, Emma and Henry will have to start a new life in the Enchanted Forrest. With a little help from a timid sailor, Killian Jones. But plagued by the new Evil Queen, the three will have to continuously dodge Snow's efforts to hunt them down and end them.

Word Count: 3,560

Chapter 10

Killian didn't know what he would have done if Robin Hood hadn't been there to help him after Regina's death. Emma had collapsed in his arms and he had barely caught her inches off the ground. Her legs simply gave out and she toppled down, right next to the other women's body. Emma probably would have ended up in the grave right next to hers if Killian hadn't grabbed her arm just when he did. Her head was milliseconds away from smashing into the rocky ground. As it was, her arm was probably dislocated, or at least very nearly so, from the way he had stopped her fall by jerking on her wrist. As terrible as he felt about the pain he probably caused, he was more than relieved that he had caught her in time.

After he had gently laid her the rest of the way down, Killian had glanced over at the lad who clung to the dead woman's neck, just barely tighter than the Robin fellow did to her hand. The former had his head buried into her neck, while the later clutched her hand to his chest, occasionally bringing it up to his mouth to lay a soft kiss on the back of it.

Killian had stood by uncomfortably for a few seconds, glancing worriedly between Swan and her boy. Finally, during one of his worried glances towards Henry, he had caught Robin's eye. The man had laid one last kiss on the young woman's hand, before standing to his feet and taking charge of the situation. It had been Robin who addressed the crowd; though Killian wasn't listening to what he said, he noticed that the crowd gathered back in the small wooden building they had presumably been in for the wedding. He had also noticed that the Robin fellow's new bride seemed to have vanished.

Between the two of them, Robin and Killian had managed to convince Henry to let go of Regina. The lad had taken his time peeling himself off of one mother, but quickly crawled over to cling to the other. Killian had assumed the lad merely didn't want to see them taking away his late mother's body. Robin and Killian had carried the body out into the forest and buried it in a somewhat concealed clearing, leaving a seemingly meaningless pile of rocks about 4 feet high as a grave marker. Robin had said it was the respectful way he and his merrymen buried their fallen ones, as the stones wouldn't wilt or fall- unless purposefully knocked over- and therefore stood as an eternal marker that whoever lay there had been on this world and had left their mark. Killian had been happy to comply and used his hook to carve a large R into one of the top rocks, as he thought Emma or Henry might wish to visit later and a grave marker would assure them they were in the right spot.

When they had made it back to the clearing, they found Henry had fallen asleep with his head on Emma's abdomen. Robin had carried Henry and Killian had carried Emma. They found another inn and then Robin had left to find his new bride, but not without first telling Killian how important it was for Killian to take every opportunity he had to tell the women he loved- whoever she may be- that he loved her, because he never knew when those opportunities might stop coming over- forever.

So there Killian sat, at his love's side, pondering the day's events.

It had been one very long, very eventful day. He had been miraculously cured, then found his True Love and then witnessed her friend's death.

Robin's words echoed in his head. Killian was sure that Robin had meant he loved Regina, so he couldn't figure out why he had married some other woman. When Killian looked at Emma, it was like there was no other maidens throughout the entire seven seas. From the moment he met her, he knew he would never meet anyone like her ever again. And when he found out she was his True Love, he had assumed her life-altering affect on him had been due to the fact that she was his True Love. That the words True Love in and of themselves, meant that he could never be happy with anyone else after meeting her.

Yet, Robin had married another.

It was beyond him. He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Luckily for him, he had other, more pleasant things to occupy his mind. Like the way Emma's face, contorted in exhaustion and agony just a few hours ago, completely relaxed in her sleep. She was peaceful once more. Killian knew it wouldn't last. When she woke up, she would once again wear that deep frown that seemed to tug the outter corner of her eyes down with it. Or worse, she would cry those strong, silent tears like she had after her encounter with Rumplestiltskin in the forest. Those were at least better than the gut-wrenching, heart-breaking sobs after Regina's death.

Killian had never seen her in so much anguish before. She must have been really close to this Regina women in her other reality.

Realization struck.

If Regina was dead, Emma had lost her only ticket back to her real world. It finally made sense, the way she completely broke down earlier. Killian had never thought Emma one to wail or faint. He knew she was stronger than that. But now he saw that she was not only mourning the death of a friend and mourning for her son's loss of a mother, but she was also dealing with the loss of an entire life. She was grieving over her parents' lost love, her friends and loved ones and all their happy endings. She was mourning the death of her Killian.

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, thinking of so much loss. No wonder the poor lass had fainted. The stress and the pain of it all must have been too much. Here he was, tearing up and gasping for breath and he couldn't even remember the reality she knew. She would never see her home again. She would probably never see her parents again. And she would have to live knowing that everyone she loved was suffering, when she knew exactly what they all needed to make them happy again.

A single tear fell down his face for the misery of his Swan, but he quickly swiped it away.

He decided then and there, to strive to be the Killian Jones she remembered. He vowed to every god he knew that he would love her unconditionally and do everything in his power to make her happy as often as possible. He would be that proud, witty captain who had been worthy of her love and trust.

He was no stranger to misery or to loss. He knew he couldn't expect her to be happy right away. He would give her as much time to grieve as she needed, but he wouldn't let her sulk in it. No matter how angry she got with him, if she wallowed too long in self-misery, he wouldn't be his usually timid self and worry from a distance. Because she deserved more than that.

He didn't know how long he sat there, watching her sleep. Long enough to fortify his plans of becoming worthy of his dear Swan. Long enough for him to build the courage to take action when necessary, whether initiating contact or pushing her when she needed it. Long enough for the sun to sink far beneath the horizon and the moon to come out and cast a delicious new light across her Swan's pale face. Long enough to hear Henry thrashing in his sleep, which caused him to finally look up from Emma's face.

Killian glanced over at the other bed, where Henry's head was swiveling back in forth in his sleep. Killian was unsure of what to do at first, but when the lad started calling out for his mother- which one, Killian wasn't sure, but he presumed both- he knew he couldn't stand by and let the poor boy suffer.

He hurried over to the lad, not wanting Henry's cries to wake Emma back to a world of pain and misery just yet. At first he tried to merely whisper the boy's name, hoping it would snap him out of his night terror. It didn't work. Tentatively, Killian reached out to lay a hand on the lad's arm. Henry's cries died down somewhat, but his thrashings were just as agitated as before.

Killian was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He was entirely too unfamiliar with the boy and whatever behavior the boy might expect from him due to their relationship or possible lack thereof in Swan's other reality. Yet, he didn't like seeing the boy in such misery and he didn't want Emma to awaken.

Steeling his nerves, Killian dipped his good hand behind the lad's neck- the way his father had once held his in affection, his fingers pressed firmly but gently against the back of his neck and his palm resting on the side, his thumb coming up to swipe comfortingly just above his jawline- and called his name.

It took Henry a few seconds to blink himself fully awake. When he did, Killian thought he almost seemed relieved to see him.

"I was having a nightmare." It was a statement, but Killian nodded in affirmation anyways. "Did I wake Mom?"

"No, lad, your mother's still sound asleep," Killian assured him.

"Today, that really... I mean. It wasn't all a nightmare, huh? My mom- my other mom, I mean- she's...she's gone, isn't she?" Henry asked, his voice strong but his tears flowing freely over the sides of his cheeks.

"I'm afraid so, lad," Killian muttered ruefully, watching as Henry rubbed the tears away with only his right hand. Killian wondered if he did it so he wouldn't cause Killian's hand to leave his neck. That's why Killian had done the same thing with his father, when he would wake him from his night terrors in the same manner.

"So we're-" Henry had to swallow down the emotion in his voice. "So we're stuck here. In this reality, I mean. Without Mom, without Grandma or Gramps. Without any of our friends. Without any hope," Henry's voice caught on the last word. Tears were flowing too fast to wipe away now.

Killian wasn't sure what made him do it, but he pulled Henry up into a sitting position and then into his chest. He held the lad against him as he cried, shedding a few tears himself for the great misery of someone much too young. He didn't attempt to rub his back or mutter into his ear and tell him everything was going to be okay. Henry didn't need to be told to cheer up. He needed to grieve. He needed someone to understand that he was in pain and to just let him be sad. So Killian merely held the boy, the side of his hook pressed into his back and his hand cupping his neck as Henry sobbed into his shoulder, his small hands balling up the fabric on Killian's chest.

Eventually, the loud shuddering breaths of his sobbing silenced, but Killian could still feel the warm wetness of tears on his neck. He still held Henry.

Eventually, the dampness on his neck turned cold, without the addition of fresh hot tears to warm it up, but those hands were still in fists in his shirt. He still held Henry.

Eventually, the fists loosened. He held Henry for a few more minutes. Then he lay him back down in his bed and pulled the blankets over him.

Killian sat there for a few more minutes, scanning Henry's face. He gently wiped away the tears that still lingered on Henry's cheeks. He looked for Emma in Henry's face. He saw her in his strong set jaw line. He saw her in his rounded chin. He saw her in the peaceful way Henry's face completely relaxed in sleep. He wondered if Emma ever looked for herself in her lad. On the surface, they didn't look much alike. Their hair was the complete opposite. His eyes were just a bit too dark to pass for green. Their lips were somewhat similar, when hers weren't pulled down in that deep frown of hers.

"A watched pot never boils," Emma's monotone voice broke him out of his reverie.

Kilian's head shot to the right to see Emma sitting up slightly in bed and his eyes scanned Emma's face for any signs of distress. It just seemed completely blank, which could be worse.

"What was that, love?" He asked lightly, standing from his seat on Henry's bed.

"Nothing. That's kind of creepy, you know. Waking up to find you starring at my son while he sleeps," she said in that same distant voice, not looking at him.

Killian thought he could see what was happening. She was trying to use some kind of humor or sarcasm to build up those walls Henry had told him about.

"If it makes you feel any better, I watched you sleep for a lot longer," Killian responded with a light air, hoping to catch her off guard by playing her own game.

It seemed to work. One corner of her mouth turned up slightly in a smile, but she ducked her head away from him before he could see. Killian took the opportunity to make his way over to the bed and climb into his side, toeing off his boots and unscrewing his hook before sliding under the covers. He knew the night was more than halfway over by then, but they didn't exactly have anything scheduled tomorrow, or any day after that to be frank.

Killian finished settling himself in and turned to tell Emma goodnight, but even though her face was turned away from him, the shaking in her shoulders let him know that she was crying. He softly tugged her down next to him and pulled her into his chest, his bad arm wrapping around her back and resting on her waist. He wasn't confident enough to take the cuff off of his stubbed arm just yet around her, so he was worried the weight of the leather contraption might hurt her, but she didn't make any complaints. His good hand brought hers up to his mouth and he took his time kissing each knuckle while she cried into his chest.

He was done with his task long before her, so he took to stroking her hair, carefully avoiding the tangles so he wouldn't hurt her.

Eventually, the loud shuddering breaths of her sobbing silenced, but Killian could still feel the warm wetness of tears on his chest. He still held Emma.

Eventually, the dampness on his chest turned cold, without the addition of fresh hot tears to warm it up, but her hand drew gentle patterns over where he had been stabbed. He still held Emma.

Eventually, the patterns stopped. He held Emma for a few more minutes.

Then she took in a deep breath and said, "I'm a terrible mother." And the tears started up once again.

"No you aren't, love," Killian protested.

"But I am," she muttered back. "I heard Henry having a nightmare, it woke me up. But I just laid there. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to face the world. I let my son suffer. And you, you were wonderful. You went over there and comforted him, while I laid here in my self-misery and self-loathing. He never had a father. His father abandoned us long before I knew I was pregnant and Regina raised him all on his own. Then, when his father finally did come back in his life, eleven years later, Henry absolutely adored him. Would have given the world to be with him. But he was only in Henry's life for a little while before we lost our memories and spent a year away. And then you found a way back to us and you restored my memory and you brought us back to Storybrooke and Henry got to see his father again, but he didn't have any of his memories. Neal died and Henry didn't even know who he was, until it was too late. And just now, you acted like his father. I don't mean you acted how Neal would have, although I'm sure Neal would have tried to comfort him. You acted like you were his father and you comforted him in the best way possible and I can't thank you enough for being there for him when I couldn't be bothered to do it myself."

Emma was crying harder now and her voice was full with emotion.

But Killian wouldn't stand for that kind of talk.

"Emma Swan, you listen to me," he demanded, pulling her face up to meet her eyes in the pale light of the moon. She looked bewildered by his force, but didn't say anything, simply listened. "You are not a terrible mother. You are beyond a doubt one of the most loving and selfless and devoted mothers I have seen in all my years. Granted, I haven't seen very many mothers aboard the Jolly Roger," he consented, when he saw her mouth open to argue. "However, I have seen my fare share throughout all the ports we've docked at and a wide variety of cultures at that. You suffered a great loss, love. You need time to grieve, to mourn, to feel the pain and to heal. You can't do that if you're trying to heal everyone around you. Your instinct around Henry is to protect and heal, is it not? It's your maternal nature to do so. But you can't fix him if you're not fixed. Have you ever seen a man with a sprained ankle carry a man with a broken foot? No, because the former is in no condition to help the latter. He let's a man without any injuries help the man with the broken foot while he goes to see an apothecary about getting his sprained wrapped. I can see that it's your nature to always take matters into your own hands, Swan, but why don't you let me take it from here. I can see to you and your boy just fine. You need to let yourself feel so you can heal, love. Okay?"

It was quiet for a few minutes, but Killian could feel more than see Emma shaking with a new onslaught of sobs.

"I'm sorry, love, have I upset you more?" He asked gently.

"No," Emma breathed out, wiping away the tears as much as possible. He gave her a few seconds to calm down before she continued, "I just...I love you, Killian Jones. Thank you. For everything. For taking care of me and my kid. For saying exactly what I needed to hear right now and so much more. For being my True Love."

"It's my pleasure, love," he said with warmth, placing a kiss on her head. "Rest now, my love. You've had a long day."

He felt her snuggle into his chest and his eyes grew heavy with much needed sleep. Just as her breathing was getting deeper, he muttered, "I love you, too, my lovely Swan."

Author's Note: This one's a little longer and A LOT fluffier to try to soothe the hurt from the last chapter. So what do you think? Isn't Daddy Killy just adorable? I had so much fun writing this sweeter side of him! I'd love to hear what you guys think