A/N: You can all thank PhoebetheQueenofDragons for this chapter. I really didn't think I'd feel up to writing for a while but her prompt for this really hit something in me and got me writing. So I spent a good portion of what would have been a lonely night writing which was nice. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do. Any prompts you have let me know- you never know what might get me writing. Thanks for all the support, follows, favourites, views and reviews. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! And Happy New Year.
Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.
The floor creaking woke Killian. He paused in bed, waiting to see if he really was awake or if it was his dreams again, Nimue coming to kill Emma, or Arthur, the bloody ponce, coming for him with Excalibur to finish the job. Killian wiggled his toes, the smooth cotton sheets rippling over them, grounding him. Okay, so he wasn't dreaming. When he did that in his dreams he usually felt the grass and leaves that covered the forest floor in Camelot. Killian snuck his hand out underneath the covers and grasped his hook from the hanger on the side of the bedside table, clicking it into place. With the nightmares he'd been leaving his brace on to allow for easy hook replacement, a comfort of sort in the uncertainty the dreams brought. Tonight Killian was glad of the new habit.
Another creak of the floor signaled another step. It was louder this time. Closer. Where the floor didn't creak, the sound of a foot padding against it filled the silence. The footsteps were slow and deliberate, obviously the person was trying not to wake Emma and Killian up. It was either Henry, the only other person living in the house, or someone very adept at sneaking into the house. If it was Will thinking this was a funny joke, Killian was going to hang the bloody thief out the window by his toes. When the person settled on the floor with a rustling sound Killian knew who it was and why someone had snuck into the master bedroom. Henry. This wasn't the first time this had happened, but it was the first time when Killian was feeling healthy enough not to sleep through the quiet footsteps.
Emma, bless her, could sleep through anything so hadn't stirred at all at the intrusion. Moving slowly, so as not to startle the boy Killian pushed himself up and out of bed. The top of Henry's brown hair was just visible on the other side of the mattress. Henry might have been quiet but after centuries of living on the wrong side of the law, sneaking into castles and out of ladies' bedrooms, Killian was quieter. Killian crept around the foot of the bed, stopping to watch Henry for a moment.
The lad was curled on the mat at the floor of Emma's side, asleep in the fetal position. The cream throw blanket that usually hung off the edge of Henry's bed was wrapped around his thin frame. It broke Killian's heart. This wasn't a regular occurrence, only happening twice since he moved back in, but it was enough to tell Killian that the boy was hurting.
Henry was always so positive that it was sometimes hard to remember that he felt the negative things just as strongly. It seemed that he'd gotten his mother's reluctance to talk about his feelings but it may also have been Henry trying to be a man. Killian figured that was the reason and it was his attempt to seem adult and strong. It wasn't as if Henry had role models that would make him think it was okay to cry from a nightmare and call for his mother. His grandfather was Prince Charming, and the two men that would most likely both become stepfathers sooner rather than later were Captain Hook and Robin Hood. It wasn't as if the men never showed emotion, Henry himself finding Killian in a ball on the kitchen floor weeks ago, but the legend Killian carried tended to outweigh the experiences.
Killian bent to the lad and gave his shoulder a shake. Henry started but swallowed the noise he'd been about to make when he saw Killian squatting beside him in the dark. When the realization that he'd been caught his cheeks started to redden and he glanced down at the floor. Rapidly Henry tried to push himself up to escape. Killian gave him a soft smile and grasped his arm, nodding his head out the door. Henry let out a soft sigh, accepting that he'd been caught, and walked out of the room with the older man.
Shutting the door to the master bedroom Killian released Henry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Henry sputtered out when Killian turned back to him.
"It's alright, lad. I don't mind." His heart clenched again. Killian could remember trying to be strong on the first boat he'd been sold to. Some nights he would try and seek comfort with Liam, sneaking to his hammock in the dead of night. The crew had caught him once and Killian hadn't ever heard the end of it. That had ended Killian's midnight journeys to his brother and when the nightmares came he'd huddle in his bunk alone until sunrise and work began. Killian couldn't do that to Henry. Killian gestured towards Henry's bedroom. "Why don't you go get settled, I'll go make some cocoa and we can have a little chat?"
"You don't have to," Henry replied.
"But I want to. Now go, let's not dawdle out here and wake your mother." Henry gave him a small smile at that.
"Don't forget the cinnamon."
"Who do you take me as?" Killian answered in mock outrage. "Do you think your mother would agree to marry me if I didn't remember the importance of cinnamon?" Henry shook his head, rolling his eyes, and started towards his room.
Killian hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, flicking the light on with his hook. Killian opened the cupboard door, pulling down Henry's ridiculous Pirates of the Caribbean mug and the handled travel mug Emma had one day shown up with for him. Emma hadn't made a big deal about the mug, just slipping it into place with the regular ones and telling him he was free to use it whenever he wanted. Killian had immediately understood and had been so grateful about her subtlety. It was difficult to carry two regular mugs for him when they were full, especially with hot liquids in them. Trying to balance two, or especially three, in his hand risked burns, something he'd made due with for years, accepting it as a side effect of his amputation, but Emma hadn't. The travel mug's lid allowed for him to hang the mug off his hook without risking spills while carrying a regular one (or two if he was getting one for both Emma and Henry). When just getting a drink for himself, usually his morning coffee, Killian would fill the mug Henry had gotten him, always swallowing against a lump at the sight of World's Best Dad written across the front. If he could find a lid for the top of that mug he'd be the happiest pirate pseudo-father of all time.
Grabbing the supplies from the fridge and neighbouring cupboard Killian hurried to mix together the hot chocolate. He threw the two mugs into the microwave, pressing the buttons Emma had shown him when they'd bought the little cooking box. It whirred to life, Killian standing in front of it, tapping his foot impatiently. He didn't want to keep Henry waiting, feeling whatever had brought him into their room alone. When the microwave beeped Killian slipped the lid onto the travel mug then brought them both back to the counter before again uncovering his own. He squeezed whip cream onto Henry's cocoa, the can sputtering at the end signalling its end before Killian could give his own some. Killian shook his head good naturedly. They'd gone through so much of the stuff lately as they all struggled forward, sometimes only fueled by determination and the sugary liquid. A shake of cinnamon on both and Killian was securing the lid on the travel mug again, hanging it off his hook, flicking off the kitchen light and starting up the stairs.
Henry was sitting up in his bed, the room dark. The moonlight filtering in through the window gave enough light for Killian to pick his way around the video games and clothing scattered across the floor to the bed. Killian handed over the mug then waited for Henry to nod his assent for Killian to join him on the mattress. Killian sat, pushing back against the wall then opened the mug top, taking a small sip.
"So lad," Killian started quietly, not looking at Henry in an attempt to make the lad feel less pressured to talk. "What brought you in to your mother and I's room tonight?"
"Nothing," Henry replied after swallowing thickly. "It's dumb."
Now Killian turned to the boy. "It's not dumb, Henry, if it upset you." Henry chewed on his lip, debating. "You know, I have nightmares all the time. Just tonight, I thought Arthur was coming to get me when you walked in the room. But your mother never thinks I'm dumb if I wake up yelling. It happens to her too."
Henry sighed. "It was a nightmare." Another pause as Henry took a drink of his cocoa. "Everyone was being attacked by the Dark Ones you called up, and the Queens of Darkness and Pan. I don't know where you or my Moms were." Killian cringed, angry at himself for causing the boy so much trauma. How could he be a good father when he'd hurt the boy so? His hand clenched around the mug but he forced himself to continue listening to Henry. "Robin and Grampa were fighting but they were losing. And I couldn't do anything. I'm not a hero. I've got no powers and I can't fight. Because of me you all died." Henry's voice was shaky but it seemed that he was less upset about the nightmare and more about feeling incapable. "I guess that's why I came into your room. I figured that if someone came for you guys I'd wake up first and guys could have time to get away."
"Lad," Killian said softly, more breath than anything, before laying his hand against Henry's shoulder. "You don't need to do that. You're special. You have the heart of the truest believer."
"That's easy for you to say!" Henry snapped back. "You're an actual hero. Both my Moms have really powerful magic. One of my Grandpas was the dark one for centuries and the other is Prince Charming, the most valiant knight in the realm. Grandma's a princess who lived as a bandit and can shoot an arrow nearly as good as Robin Hood who has an enchanted bow. And you- you've been fighting for centuries and have a bloody hook for a hand. You're Captain Hook, most fearsome pirate to ever sail the seas."
Killian sighed. It wasn't as if he could argue the lad's lineage. Henry really came from a talented and rather famous family. But Killian hadn't always had his moniker. No, at one time he'd been a scared child with his own hero to look up to.
"May I tell you a story, lad?" Henry shrugged. Killian took that for assent. "I may be a pirate but I'm not the real hero of my family. The real hero is the man whose ring you now wear." Killian gestured to Henry's hand with his hook, drawing the boy's gaze down to the simple silver band. "Liam Jones did not have any magical powers and for a good long time he was a bloody awful fighter. He had no idea what to do in a brawl let alone in a sword fight. Our father bundled us onto a ship one night, telling us we were going to sail the world together. Liam loved the sea as much as I do, maybe more, so we were both thrilled. But it turned out that my father was wanted and he jumped ship, selling my brother and me into servitude as payment for a row boat." Killian paused for a moment to quell the bitterness in his voice. This was about Henry, not Killian's own scars. Henry was watching him intently so Killian continued on.
"I just had Liam then. My brother looked after me, a child far too young to be on a ship full of older, hardened and sometimes dangerous men. Liam kept me from starving, would give up his own meals when I was fed last and given no more than scraps. Liam took punishments for me when I'd make a mistake and anger the captain. I've only half the whip scars on my back because of that bloody stupid man." Now it wasn't bitterness and anger that tightened Killian's voice. "Liam protected me until our servitude was up. Liam, who had become a wonderful sailor, received a sponsorship to join the navy and secured a placement for myself in a boarding home. Unfortunately, the people he left me with were not as they seemed and I was kicked out, all the money Liam had left me with gone into their pockets. I lived on the street for months before Liam realized something was wrong and came looking. Once again my brother rescued me. Liam convinced the captain of the ship he was working on to take me on as a cabin boy. I lived on ships with Liam as he worked his way up in the Navy, making sure any of his berths included a spot for me in which I'd be treated well. Liam could have become a lieutenant or captain faster but he waited for me. I joined the Navy myself when I came of age, wanting to be everything Liam was. When Liam got his first berth as captain he once again came back for me, but this time I wasn't a cabin boy, I was his lieutenant. That was my last trip with my brother." Killian swallowed. "But that part of the story isn't for tonight. Tonight I wanted to show you that Captain Hook's hero had no magic, wasn't a natural swordsman like your grandfather and I don't think he ever touched a bow and arrow like your grandmother or Robin. Liam was my hero because he was good, and kind, and noble to a fault. Eventually it was his undoing but Liam protected me fiercely, putting himself in danger so I would stay safe, get an extra scrap of bread to eat, avoid the Cat until I was older. I see a lot of my brother in you, Henry, my boy. You are smart and good and true. You believe the best in everyone, even an old villain like myself. How many times have you saved us by figuring things out? You found your mother when you were ten and broke a curse when no one believed you. Even though you don't have your pen anymore, you're the new author. You are a hero, Henry. Don't ever believe anything less."
Henry was watching Killian, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide with wonder. "Truly?"
"I wouldn't have told you that if I didn't believe it. I don't readily share that story."
Henry took a few moments to ponder that, finishing off his drink. "How old was Liam when he started looking after you?"
Killian didn't even have to think about that. Even at over three hundred years old Killian remembered the day clearly. "Liam was about your age. I was a child, still terrified of the dark. Liam wasn't much better but he forced himself to be for me."
"What age did Liam learn to fight?"
"When he joined the Navy at sixteen," Killian answered. Liam had never known how to use a sword when he'd been watching Killian on the first ship. No one taught a slave how to sword fight. A look of relief relaxed Henry's face. Killian saw it for what it was- that it wasn't too late to be the hero he had pictured in his mind. Henry might have been given a lot to chew on from Killian's story, hopefully enough to stave off future nightmares in incapability, but it was hard to change the image of a hero in ten minutes. "Henry, if you want to learn how to properly sword fight I'll teach you." Killian got up and took the empty mug from Henry's hand, watching the lad as he settled himself back into bed, pulling up the covers.
"Thanks, Killian." Henry's voice was sleepy again and his eyes were starting to droop.
"You're welcome. Now next time you have a nightmare wake me up, alright? I don't mind."
"Okay, I will. See you in the morning."
"Night lad." Killian left the room, pulling the door closed behind him. He left the two mugs in the upstairs bathroom to be carried down in the morning and went back to bed. Emma was still asleep when he slipped under the covers, unclipping the hook and hanging it again.
"You're a great father," Emma's voice whispered through the darkness, startling him both because he hadn't expected to hear her voice and because of her words. Killian rolled over to see that Emma had been faking when he'd come in, eyes sleepy but clearly awake.
"You heard that did you?" Killian asked sheepishly, feeling the tips of his ears heat up as he blushed.
"Aye," Emma replied, trying to copy his accent with a small smile. "I couldn't have done that for Henry. He needs you in his life."
"I just told him a story." If Emma had heard everything hadn't she heard that the nightmare monsters were partly Killian's doing?
"Exactly the one he needed to hear. There's a lot he can learn from you."
"I don't want to replace Neal," Killian answered in a quick whisper. Emma smiled, placing a quick kiss against his arguing lips.
"You aren't. Henry never really had Neal in his life as a proper father. Neal got his heroic moment to help rescue Henry in Neverland but that was it. You've been around for so much more- no matter what either of us have done in that period that may have been questionable," Emma added with a wry smile. "Neal will always be Henry's birth father and important to him because of that. But you're someone totally different to him and that role of mentor and soon to be step father you occupy is more than enough. Don't doubt yourself. And if we ever become a little baby's parents, well, I know you'll excel in the role."
Before Killian could break through the tsunami of wonder that had crashed over him at Emma's words, she rolled around and her breathing steadied, signalling her return to sleep. Killian didn't sleep for the rest of the night, instead letting his mind wander to images of Henry and a teetering toddler making their way across the deck of the Jolly Roger, brothers looking out for, and up to, each other.