Sorry for the delay, my health issues have kept me from having a clear enough head to write much. I'm trying to tie up these stories I have left. Here is one more chapter of this one.

Ruby's long legs were thrown over the side of the chair and her hair dangled over the other arm, her mouth thrown open as she slept in what Emma could only call the most uncomfortable position ever. By contrast, Mary Margaret was curled up under a thin white blanket that one of the nurse's supplied, the picture of serenity in the not so quiet waiting area of the ICU. Emma had promised them that she would sleep, closing her eyes and trying to even out her breathing as she waited on them to believe her claim. Eventually they did, leaving the blonde to sit quietly in the semi dark and think. That could be dangerous.

One wall of the rectangular shaped waiting area was windows down to the parking lot with the occasional rays of headlights breaking through even at the late hour. The opposite wall was also glass that looked out into the hallway between the waiting area and ICU. Emma had started to count the number of people who walked down that hall, not bothering to pause or take note of the rooms on the other side of the doors where people were fighting for their very existence.

"Mrs. Jones?" the frizzy haired nurse asked, only sticking her head through the partially open door. "We're about to administer another dose of his sedation. Perhaps you would like to see him. He's not awake, but I would bet he can hear you."

Emma had bolted from her chair and nearly tripped on a bag of snacks that Granny had sent over earlier. Apparently, when one's loved one is in the hospital, eating was the thing to do. She followed the swift moving medical worker past double doors that remained locked except during the specially posted visiting hours.

Killian's room was rather small, as all of these glass enclosures were with a single bed, more machines than people, and a sink in the corner. No chairs existed to encourage visitors. Emma stood near the head of his bed, holding his hand through the inflatable mitt that was there to prevent his pulling out his breathing tube. His left arm was curled across his chest, the prosthetic hand safely in her tote bag for when he was moved to a regular room.

She pressed a kiss first to his forehead and then cheek, looking toward the nurse for guidance. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to…"

"There aren't really any rules with this. I mean you can talk to him about how you feel. Wish him well. Talk about your favorite show or song. It's really wide open. It's your voice that matters. Be soothing. It will help. Maybe you could sing to him even?"

She almost laughed at the suggestion. "He's the musician in the family." That made her scoff again. "I really just said that, didn't I? Family. It's just been my son and I against the world for so long. Now he's…"

"Sneaks up on you, doesn't it?" the woman said, adjusting the settings on one of the machines. "Love, I mean. My husband and I were friends for years. The best of friends. He nursed me through broken hearts. I was judgmental about his girlfriends and dates. And then one day I saw him. Really saw him." She wrinkled her nose. "Haven't looked back and it's been 20 years now. That sneaks up on you too. I am guessing you're a newlywed."

"Yeah," Emma admitted, noting the growing stubble on his jaw that was several shades lighter than his dark hair. She had noticed it during the summer as he chased after her on the beach and threatened to throw her in the water, the sun making it look a soft shade of auburn. It made him look a bit less roguish as he was fond of saying. "Less than a month."

"Wonderful time. I enjoyed it even though there was a learning curve. My husband has the coldest feet ever. And he cannot see fit to eat anything but greasy, processed, fast food. Minor things, right? But when it was all so new it seemed so dramatic and almost insurmountable. But it wasn't. And this isn't either. Your husband, Mrs. Jones, is recovering. And in a while you'll not look back on this time with fear."

Emma nodded, touching his cheek. "He can really hear me?"

"I would think so," the nurse said, jutting her chin out. "Now, I need to get a new IV ready, but he won't need it for about 20 minutes or so. I don't see any reason that you can't stay in here for that little while. It'll give you a little time with him."

"Thank you," Emma said, not taking her eyes off of him. She heard the woman mutter something at one of the machines and then the squeak of rubber soled shoes on the linoleum floor. That left her with his closed eyes and the hiss of the breathing machine. Exhaling, she ran her fingers down his cheek. "I should try to remember this as the time you couldn't argue with me, maybe even tell you what I want that I know you won't agree with and then later tell you we already discussed it. But all I can think that I want is for you to wake up and be fine. I have no reason to think that you won't be. You did promise me that. And you never go back on your promises."

He didn't move or acknowledge her, but she could see that his brow furrowed a bit so maybe the nurse was right. "You have to get better," Emma continued. "There is so much more we need to do. You owe me a trip to Europe, remember? I don't want to go without you. And I still haven't managed to see all those James Bond movies you like. Maybe while you are recovering we can have a few movie nights at home? Curled up on the sofa, eating my famous popcorn with melted Milk Duds, sneaking kisses while Henry's engrossed in the story? I'll even let you keep the remote."

She stopped to drop a kiss on his forehead. "And breakfast. I will make you something healthy like fruit and eggs with oatmeal instead of poptarts. I promise I will try to make everything the way you like it if you just wake up." There was still nearly silence as she rambled a bit in hopes that her concessions would somehow miraculously wake him up. As she listed them, she realized that she wasn't saying the reason that she wanted him and needed him to recover. It was coming out as a want list, frivolous and mundane. Normally she would have collapsed into a chair and had a good cry, ugly expressions and fat tears rolling. There was no chair though and the thought of falling onto his hospital bed seemed even less appealing. So with a sniffle, she squared her shoulders and squeezed his hand again.

"I could try and guilt you into waking up. Because I sure as hell need you right now. I'm not even sure how I would begin to…Well, I am not sure I even want to know and…that used to scare me. It used to make me freak out that I could love you that much. I want to think that you love me that much too. I want to think that you wouldn't know what to do with yourself either. Please, Killian, wake up and be well again. I don't want to figure this all out alone."

***AAA***

Zelena flitted around the now empty bar, squashing out the dim flames on candles and lifting the chairs onto the tables so that her cleaning crew could finish the floors. "I didn't really expect you here tonight," she said to Liam, taking a moment to readjust the shoulder of her green sweater. "I know if Regina had just had surgery, I'd be there with her. I may want to kill her half the time, but that's just part of being sisters."

"Emma's staying with him tonight," Liam muttered. He'd been home before, sitting on the couch and trying to do anything but think of his brother. There was no reason for him to go back to the hospital, as Emma was there and if anything changed she would call. They would have to divide their resources to care for him, Elsa had reminded him when she encouraged him to get a good night's sleep. But sleep hadn't come so he had dragged his butt to the bar at nearly 11 p.m. to work a few hours before he made his way to the waiting room to relieve Emma.

"And you decided the drunks of Storybrooke were more inclined to need your services?" she asked pointedly. "I don't mind your dedication to your job. I rather like it, actually. But I don't need you to have a break down here. This is a bar. The only people who should be hiding away from their emotions are the customers."

He was about to answer when he saw something flash behind her, the whiff of sweet perfume overpowering the stale beer and fried concoctions. Elsa walked in carefully, her features looking delicate in the oversized sweater she was wearing that made her complexion and hair seem even more pale by comparison. Giving her a sort of half-hearted smile, he watched as she approached the bar and sat on the stool closest to the employee door.

"Lock up like usual when you go," Zelena said, nodding toward Elsa. "And make sure you leave one light on for the cleaners?"

"Aye," he responded, not taking his eyes off of Elsa. "I'll text you about my schedule for tomorrow."

It wasn't until the door shut and Zelena had retreated that Elsa finally spoke. "I woke up and you were gone. I got worried that maybe I'd missed a call about Killian and you went to the hospital alone. But I texted Ruby and she said you weren't there. So I assumed you must have come here."

He could have tried to explain that he couldn't sleep or that his mind had raced with thoughts of what his life would be like without his brother. Then there was the guilt that he felt about his own father who was lying in a room in that very hospital. Liam had made it as far as that floor earlier in the evening but then realized he had nothing he could think of to say and should probably at least prepare something before walking in there. No, nothing would explain why he was standing there in tight, faded jeans, a t-shirt, and a flannel shirt over it. Nothing would explain why his hands needed to be busy and his mind focused on something other than his brother in that moment.

Elsa nodded as though she had heard his thoughts. "Ruby said that Killian's holding his own and the nurse said it is reasonable to presume that he's going to get the breathing tube out in the morning."

Letting go of the breath he had been holding, Liam nearly dropped the glass in his left hand. "And they don't think…"

"No permanent damage. He's strong enough…" She smiled. "Killian's going to be fine. And your father…"

She stopped when she saw the flinch on Liam's face. "I don't really care to discuss him at the moment. While I know it was not intentional, there is a part of me that will never forgive him for putting Killian in this position. Had he not been a lousy drunk, he might not have destroyed his liver."

"Nobody would blame you for thinking that way. I mean it was a pretty horrible set of circumstances and Brennan seems to have come through unscathed. Would you feel better if it was him who had the complications?" She leaned her elbows on the bar and clasped her hands in front of her.

Liam rubbed his chin thoughtfully after he placed the last of the glasses on the sideboard. "I wouldn't wish anything like that on anyone. Perhaps it was because my mother was quite a superstitious woman or all that time I spent at sea with old sailors and their beliefs in fortune and luck. Either way, I don't wish ill on people.

She nodded. "You ready to get some sleep? Or should we head over to the hospital? I don't think Emma's going to mind or be surprised with either."

***AAA***

As it turned out none of them were allowed back in the ICU when Killian did finally wake up. Weaned off the medicine keeping him asleep, he was surrounded by Dr. Whale and the surgeon, as well as several nurses for the uncomfortable task of removing the tube. It came with quite a bit of coughing that he finally finished in time for Emma and Liam to come see him before he was finally transferred to a regular room for a bit more recovery.

Liam held the plastic cup and directed the straw at his brother's mouth, smiling sympathetically at the way Killian's eyes glazed over with the hangover of sedation. "Be a good lad and have just a sip," he coaxed, ignoring the flail of a hand trying to brush it aside. "It's not the tastiest beverage, but can't be having you weave down the hallway of this hospital after a pint."

Clasping the once flailing hand in her own, Emma squeezed tightly. "Come on, Killian. He's not going to leave you alone until you do it. And that nurse seemed like a real hard ass too. I would suggest drinking your water like they ask."

Cutting his eyes to his wife's most relaxed expression since the whole ordeal began, Killian parted his cracked lips slightly to allow his brother to insert the bendy straw and took a deep but short sip of the still cool water. He pushed the plastic out with his tongue. "One sip. I did it. Now will you bloody well leave?"

Liam chuckled and wiggled the straw in his direction again. "So maybe I lied, little brother. I think we need to finish this bit and then we'll see about some food for you."

Emma stifled a laugh as her husband muttered about meddling brothers and no appetite for anything other than going home with her. It had been a long 24 hours with Killian's surgery, the emergency, his ventilator, and a 12 hour say in the ICU before they even considered sending him to a regular room. But there he sat, surrounded by pillows and socks with paw prints on his feet as his brother force fed him water and his wife teared up each time he winced or coughed. She was willing to put up with anything he would dish out after seeing him looking so pale and lifeless as she had in the ICU. The sight of his eyes, even as he looked frightened to learn of the events, had given her more comfort than she could have imagined possible. And the warmth of his hand clutching hers was a magical connection that she swore she wasn't going to forget. "I think the patient's getting a bit fed up with you," she told her brother-in-law. "Want me to try?"

With an exasperated sigh, Liam thrust the cup at her and sat back down on the room's only chair. Emma had sworn she was going to sleep in it that night, but as of yet had not left the edge of his bed. "I don't want to know why you'll be more compliant with her than your own flesh and blood."

"Probably because she has better legs," Elsa said from the doorway, peeking in with a grin. "It's good to see you awake, Killian. You've had us all worried. Liam hasn't slept a wink. He paced around so much last night that I was worried our downstairs neighbors might call the board on us for making too much noise."

"A man's not allowed to be concerned about his brother while he's in the ICU? That's pure bollocks."

Killian gave Elsa a soft hello between sips of water that he did in fact take better from Emma than his well-meaning brother. After hours with a tube down his throat to help him breathe, he had a wicked sore throat and a hoarseness that made him sound far weaker than he actually felt. He'd not yet asked about anything other than Emma's comfort and Henry's whereabouts.

Holding Liam's shoulder under her hand, Elsa propped her hip against the radiator on the wall. "So I thought you both might like to know that I've been by the house. David's got Sparrow and all is well there. I even managed to take a quick glance around your boat to make sure everything was as it should be. If you want, Anna's dying to do something. I thought we might go by the store and pick you up a few odds and ends. Maybe that would save you a few steps upon your release."

The mere mention of the word release had Killian's eyes lighting up and a hopeful sort of expression aimed at Emma. She kissed his forehead and whispered something about soon and doctor's orders. Her hair was hanging messily from a twisted bun atop her head and the oversized cardigan she wore over a thin white shirt seemed to swallow her. While she knew she looked rather ragged in those clothes, Killian's warm smiles to her and the way his eyes raked over her form seemed to indicate that he merely saw her as beautiful even when she was sleep deprived. "That's so nice of you," she said to Elsa. "You've been a big help. Even with work stuff…"

Elsa flushed as she listened to Emma's compliments. "I know this isn't probably the time, but well, there is something I wanted to show you two."

Liam peered over his girlfriend's shoulder with curiosity. "Those two and not me?"

Ignoring his petulant question, Elsa passed Emma her phone and shrugged. "So one of the calls you got from work was about that new singer Regina wanted signed. He went with another label, but the thing is that he's looking for a few more songs to record for his first album. He's mostly wanting original stuff, no covers. And without you there…one of the lower staff found a really obscure song on your computer. I told them that the stuff there wasn't part of the catalog, but it was too late. He heard it and his label wants to buy it." She bit her lip as Emma scanned the screen and its contract notes that Elsa had put together. "I think it's a good deal. And there's no obligation afterward. It's just a song contract."

"You are bothering her with work?" Liam chastised, pursing his lips together with a certain amount of disappointment. "I thought we agreed that we're here for Killian. Work can wait. Isn't that the lecture you gave me in the bloody elevator when I wanted to check on the schedule at work?"

Emma scrolled a bit more on the phone. "This is about Killian," she said softly, reading the notes. "I mean if he wants it to be." Flashing her eyes to confirm with Elsa, she looked back at Killian and lifted one shoulder slowly. "It seems that Elsa may have sold one of your old songs. And she may have just negotiated enough of a payment to match Mary Margaret's on the new school."

***AAA***

Killian refused to consider the offer until he had a chance to view the contract on something other than a smart phone and that didn't come for two more days until he was home from the hospital. Released was another matter since he was forbidden from strenuous activity and was under the watchful eyes of his wife, brother, and stepson. It was a rare moment for him to wake up without one of them checking on him, tucking in covers or replacing lukewarm water with fresh. On the fourth day of his recovery, Henry and Liam had helped him into the living room where they watched Star Wars and discussed the upcoming Christmas holidays, including Henry's growing wish list.

"I think you might be barking up the wrong tree, lad," Killian said with a smirk, the small pillow clutched at his stomach to brace for the next cough that the doctor said was both natural and helpful. "Your lovely mother has declared herself the chief merry maker in this home and is doing all the shopping. I haven't even been allowed to wrap a present, though I'm not very adept at that sort of thing with only one hand."

Liam, who was drinking water out of solidarity for Killian's recovery regimen, sputtered at the statement. "Don't let the bloke fool you. He's never been good at it. Once we bought our mother this gaudy necklace that was sure to turn her neck green. Killian used all the paper, two premade bows, and gobs of tape on it. She threw it out with the rubbish thinking it was just that. I had to go out there before the collectors came and dig it out of the bin. Went to school smelling of the past three night's dinner after that. It wasn't pleasant at all. And what do you know, my little brother ended up with all the accolades for that gift. He's always been a charmer."

Killian posed the best he could from the seated position, giving an impression of doe eyes and cute smile to his brother before collapsing in laughter. That was how Emma found them as she entered and stamped the snow from her boots. She smiled brightly through tired eyes as she dropped three packages on the counter and hurried around the sofa to kiss her husband before wedging herself into the seat beside him.

"What are we doing?" she asked, squinting at the paused screen on the television that showed very little in terms of clues. "Movie watching?"

"Liam was telling me about how Killian was a charmer growing up." Henry slid off the adjoining sofa to sit on the floor and reach for the remote.

"I can definitely see that," Emma agreed. "And a cute one at that." Liam and Henry matched ahhhs as the couple made a show of another kiss, smacking loudly to earn the teenager's groan of disgust. "I brought some stuff for sandwiches. I didn't know what you might want for lunch. If you want something hot, I could heat up some…" She broke off, sniffing the air. "Is that?"

Liam puffed his chest out proudly. "Aye, I'm adept in the kitchen, lass. It's an old recipe of mum's that I will not be sharing with the lot of you. But you can have a bowl."

"I believe there is an apron in there of Emma's," Killian called out, his voice decidedly stronger since that first day he woke up. "A pink frilly one would look rather dashing on you, perhaps."

"You git," Liam called out, rummaging through a lower cabinet for a lid.

With Liam's attention on the cooking and Henry scrolling through messages on his phone, Emma lowered her voice to Killian. "I got a paper copy of the offer and proposal for that song," she nearly whispered. "We don't have to do it now, but whenever you're ready…"

"Is it a good deal?"

"Very generous. The company is legit and wants to buy it for this guy. He's seriously talented and will probably take it to the top of the charts. And other than your signature, they aren't requiring another thing from you. Speaking as a professional and not your wife…you'd be crazy not to take it. And speaking as your wife…"

"You already know me to be a bit mad," he answered cheekily. Stifling a yawn, he nodded. "It would take the pinch off with this whole school opening thing. And it isn't like I was planning to do much with the music anyway. It was simply gathering dust." He lifted his left arm to throw over her shoulders, a move that made him wince with the pain the stretch brought on. "Perhaps I should go ahead and agree before they find another song from another source?"

Emma brushed her nose on his cheek. "I don't want to pressure you on this. It's all your decision."

"I feel no pressure from you, love. But I am not naïve enough to believe that I have all the time in the world on this." He pointed his chin toward the packages and bag she left on the counter. "Grab your pen, love. I'm ready to sign."

***AAA***

The documents were signed and officially sealed by all the parties three days later, just an hour before Killian was due at the doctor to follow up on his recovery. Emma promised him dinner at Granny's if he was a good patient, which he was all during the appointment. He coughed when asked and took deep breaths as directed. The nurse smiled when he displayed his arm for bloodwork without complaint. Everything seemed on track.

As the couple met with Liam and Elsa for a celebratory dinner at the popular diner, most of them had no way of knowing that just upstairs Brennan was recovering too. The younger Liam had ordered food for the evening meal and was checking the tray when Killian spotted him. The half-brothers' eyes met briefly and for one awkward moment, Killian considered calling out to him.

"I wasn't aware he was still in town," Elsa said, dabbing a paper napkin at a sticky spot on the table. "I would have thought…"

"There is one thing you should know when it comes to my father and apparently his youngest son," Liam said, his eyes focused on the card with different desserts featured on it. "Logic will not help you to understand."

Emma looked a bit uncomfortable as she shifted in her seat. "I didn't realize he would be in the diner tonight, but apparently Brennan is recovering here at the bed and breakfast before heading back home. He's not been cleared to travel yet." Her mouth formed a tight line. "So…anyone want to change the subject?"

Killian sipped from his drink and exhaled slowly. "I would presume that you've been speaking to him."

"No? Yes, sort of. I ran into your brother out front the other day when I was picking up hot chocolates. I didn't know what to do or say so I asked how Brennan was doing. I wasn't trying to interfere. I just thought I should be polite, you know? He asked about you. Seemed kind of worried." Emma fidgeted again. "And because I know you won't ask. Your father is doing better. He's getting his strength back. And should be able to travel sometime in January probably."

"That will be good," Killian said as Liam muttered something unintelligible. I take it that they will be here for the holidays then? You didn't invite them over to the house, did you?"

"No," Emma said defensively. "I wouldn't do that."

Having sat quietly through the exchange, Elsa gathered her jacket and kissed Liam's cheek. "I need to go check on Anna and it's too loud in here for a conversation. Be back in a minute." She caught Emma's eye and tilted her head ever so slightly toward the door. Emma understood the gesture. Whatever the brothers chose to do, it should be on them to decide. Making her own excuse about Henry, Emma joined Elsa on the cold patio where only the heartiest would brave the temperatures and wind.

"You think they'll go up there?" Elsa asked softly as Emma dug her gloveless hands into her pockets.

"Yes, maybe, I don't know. Killian once asked me if I would face my parents if I ever met them. I don't know the answer to that either. I do know it would gnaw at me until I did something. So maybe they just need to do something. They can talk to him or walk away and never come back. Either way it is their decision."