A Way Back Into Love (Part 4)


Killian Jones is the former member of a band that disbanded years ago. At present, his career isn’t really going anywhere until he gets the opportunity to write a song for famous pop star, Grace Jefferson.

Having had no luck writing a successful set of lyrics before, he sets out to find a (sane) lyricist and finds her in Emma Swan, a woman he met by chance when she took over her friend’s plant watering business for a few days.

Together they embark on a journey to write a hit song in less than a week, and discover that maybe they, despite what they’ve each been through in their pasts, can also find their own way back into love.

Based on the 2007 movie, Music and Lyrics that starred Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore.

Word count: 2140

Links to other parts : Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4

Note: This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written.

Thanks again to carmi-believes-in-love for looking over this part.

Once back at Killian’s apartment, he was already going over where they were at with the song, he hung up Emma’s coat and purse and headed straight for the piano.

“We don’t have very long,” he was saying “but what I’d like to do, in an ideal world, is continue with the autopsy song. Quite honestly, though, getting back to “A Way Back Into Love” could be challenging from there, and that’s the title that Grace demands.

Emma nodded, pulling out a notebook from her purse, clicking her pen.

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plese, where is the link for the NEIGHBORS!AU ? :))


Lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor - Killian and Emma were childhood best friends before she was taken away to a new foster home. Years later she meets him again as her playboy, med school student neighbor.

Part 1Part 2Part 3 - Epilogue: My baby don’t mess around (Because she loves me so)Drabble: Sexual healingDrabble: UntitledDrabble: We get together, oh we get together. - Drabble: Sky full of stars

A team


“Swan!” Killian says as Emma storms out of Granny’s but she doesn’t want to hear, she doesn’t want to see him, so she just walks faster and ignores his cries for her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you!” he says and her footsteps get heavier, faster, she doesn’t want to face him, she doesn’t want to face her feelings, not when she asked him something and he practically ignored her, doing exactly the opposite of what she told him, following Elsa and trying to investigate things, alone, again.

She had asked him just that morning not to go after Elsa, not alone at least, and he had agreed with her.

Didn’t he trust her?

Didn’t he know just how much he means to her?

She still remembers when she found him in the woods while searching signs of Elsa with her father and Will. She still remembers the way his body was pale and cold once she saw him lying on the muddy floor of the woods, coughing and shivering. She still remembers how terrified she was; just the idea of losing him was too much, his presence was too essential on her life. She still remembers the way he told her he was fine, stubborn the way that he is, he told her not to worry about him, but she didn’t listen to it, instead she made him promise that he wouldn’t follow Elsa again, he promised her he wouldn’t leave her, not that easy, he promised.

And not even a day later he does that, making her frightened again. Damn him.

“Emma, wait, sweetheart!” he says and she snorts but then his arm is on her and he turns her around, making her look at him.

“What?” she asks bitterly, letting her walls up again.

“I didn’t mean to do that, to hurt you, Emma, trust me,” he’s trying to explain himself, he tries to make her see reason, but being stubborn the way she is, she won’t listen to him, of course she won’t.

“You didn’t mean it? If you hadn’t meant it, then perhaps you wouldn’t have done it!” 


“No, don’t Swan me, I asked you not to, you promised you wouldn’t do it, you freaking promised, so don’t give me this crap.”

“I just wanted to help you, the town, you were out with that bloody knave and your father and I thought that maybe I could do something to help, maybe I could be more than just a stupid one-handed pirate, I just wanted to help,” he says, the last phrase is out like a mere whisper, a prayer to make her understand. I just wanted to be a hero, that phrase it’s quite explicit it in the speech, but he doesn’t say it. He never says, but still she gets it, because it’s him, it’s her boyfriend, well sort of, she doesn’t know what they are anymore, she only knows that she cares.

Goddammit, she cares.

And she cares so much it scares her, it scares hers the way he looks at her like she’s his whole world, the ways he talks to her, cherishes her. But mostly what scares her it’s the thought of losing him, being without him, she can’t bear it.

“Killian, I…” she begins but never gets the chance to finish her sentence, he looks at her one last time, then he makes a move on her, he practically pounces on her, his mouth devouring hers, his hand and hook on her waist and then on her hair, he pulls her close, so close, he gives her his best, he kisses her passionately and intensely and she gives him as good as she gets, her hands on his waist too as she kisses him with equal force.

The kiss is not tender and sweet, it is warmth and fervor, but it’s not like their kiss on Neverland, this one is more heated and there’s so much more feelings involved, this one actually means things, it means ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I can’t lose you’, and need and passion.

“I’m right here, love,” he murmurs once the kiss is over and she sighs, of course he would see pass through her walls, he sees her, Emma, and understands her. “I’m not going anywhere, I will be here for as long as you want me to,” he says, so honestly it makes her heart swell, but still she can’t believe it, he had said that in the morning and look where they are now. “This time I mean it, Swan, please trust me.”

She sighs and smiles, a small, sad curve of her lips. “I do, Killian, I really do.”

“Good,” he says and smiles too, making her heart beat faster.

“Just don’t do this again, alright? We’re a team now,” she says and he smiles, a genuine act of happiness.

“A team? I like the sound of that,” he says and his smile gets even bigger, before she knows his mouth is on hers again, savoring her, making them one, one team.



His lips were on hers in a heartbeat and she didn’t even see it coming. But she didn’t mind.

At all.

His lips were hot and demanding and this was not like the other two times she had kissed him.

At all.

Maybe because this time he had initiated the kiss. It was he who closed the gap and kissed her. Not the other way around and they had just argued and she had been angry with him but, oh God, she loved kissing him. Loved being pulled into his body, loved feeling his tongue brushing against hers, loved feeling his fingers threading through her hair.

And she didn’t know how it happened. But one second they were standing in front of Granny’s, kissing passionately, and the next they were in his room.

In a blink of an eye. Like magic.

She leaned back, looking up at him, his expression possibly mirroring hers. Complete astonishment.

But then his mouth curved up into a lopsided grin and his arm tugged her closer. “Your magic is marvelous, love.”

"You think?"


His voice shot shivers down her spine and then his mouth was back on hers and she didn’t think at all, her mind shutting down and her body taking over.

Hot kisses, clothes flying everywhere, skin against skin and then the glorious moment when they were finally connected.

Nothing else mattered anymore but them.

Being together.

Bodies touching.

Souls connecting.


I’m Sorry


The door to Granny’s slams shut and there’s a collective gasp from the people inside. It’s stupid, really. Just some off-handed comment that rubbed her the wrong way. 

"Emma!" Killian yells, his voice gruff with emotion. 

She can feel her blood boiling, hear it rushing in her ears, but she doesn’t stop and she doesn’t look back. She’s too busy mentally listing each and every insulting name she has for him.

Insensitive, swell headed, leather clad buffoon… 

"Emma, sweetheart!" 

Emma stops where she stands. 

Sweetheart? Whispered like its precious. Like she’s precious. The most precious thing he’s ever had. 

But she’s mad. Oh so mad. And he can’t just run after her and make things be ok by calling her endearing names and looking deep into her eyes with his stormy ones. 

Which he doesn’t. 

Instead, he grabs her hand and spins her around to him, crushing her to his heaving chest as he practically pants after running after her. He holds onto the lapels of her new jacket, much like she grabbed at the his worn leather coat and dragged him towards her for their first kiss back in Neverland. 

He kisses her now, his lips sliding over hers. He tastes like the cinnamon cocoa they’d been drinking before she’d stormed away, like home and apologies. 

I’m sorry. So so sorry. 

Emma sigh’s against his mouth, saying her forgiveness in the way she tilts her head and deepens the kiss. The way she stands on her tip-toes and her hands come up to his sides and holds onto him. 

Above them there’s a pop and sizzle. Sparks rain down and one by one the lights all down main street go off, leaving the entire street in complete and utter darkness. 

From the next block over, there’s the sound of tires skidding and horns blasting and metal crunching metal. A siren blares half- heartedly. 

"Did we just-" Killian begins to asks. 

"You make quite the apology, Killian Jones." 

Do you believe in magic?


I had to, ok, I’m sorry


She is furious. Furious with this town, with Elsa and her giant evil snow man, with this whole saviour ordeal and- god, she’s feeling too
much, the disappointment of Killian missing their first date too strong, a ball of sadness lodging itself in her throat and making it hard to
breathe. She thought this was different-she thought he was different.

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Congratulations on the Milestone! I'm sure you got lots of prompts, but if you are so inclined, I would really like to read a fic where Emma and Hook are having some sort of anniversary, and Mary Margaret wants to have a big ball/celebration, but Emma and Hook just want to spend it by themselves. Fluffy would be nice. Thank you!


Here’s my first attempt at writing fic from a prompt!

Title: Slow Dance

Word Count: 2500

Captain Swan and a dash of Snowing, rated PG and F for fluffy!

A royal ball, to celebrate the anniversary of her first royal ball.

“Only my mother,” Emma thought, standing stiffly in the middle of the room, afraid to do anything that would wrinkle the enormous taffeta skirt.

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By My Side 1/2


i wrote this a while ago for one of the write challenges thing but never posted it 

i would put it under a cut but my read mores don’t work, so sorry about the scrolling if you decide not to read


part 2


He sits reclined in the hospital chair, eyes heavy as he watches his wife. Her blonde curls lay neatly on either side, her cheeks sink slightly into her frame. As he watches her, he feels their daughter shift in his arms, her tiny hands as far as they can go around his neck. He brings his eyes to her, their beautiful little girl. Black ringlets flow from her head onto his chest, rich and tame (for once). She sleeps soundly now, but he pictures her eyes, a very familiar shade of green he has fallen in love with over and over again. Her smile, genuine and bright like her mother’s could light up any room, the sound of her bubbly giggle is like magic. He looks back at Emma, waiting for her to open her eyes, though he knows it won’t be for a while. She has a needle in her hand, something called an IV, keeping her with him. She’s alive, he says to himself, she’s alive.

But the baby is gone.

Emma had been 3 months along, her skin beginning to stretch over their growing child. They had been laying in bed, after reading Holly her favorite bedtime story (The Tale of the Savior and the Pirate). As he spooned her, hand over their unborn son, he heard her gasp, followed by a pained moan.

"What’s wrong, Emma please tell me what’s wrong."

All she could do was turn her head to look at him, her green eyes radiating panic and pain as all she could say was “Blood.”

He picked her up from the bed, one are under her knees with the other on her back as she bled between her legs, whimpering and crying in his arms.

"Shh, it’s going to be alright, stay calm love, breathe," he soothed into her ear, though he was just as scared as she was. He called the number Emma had made him learn in case of medical emergencies. He then called Mary Margaret and David to pick up Holly, only having time to say the baby’s in danger, hurry. Soon the white truck with red marks arrived in front of their house, an ambulance, he remembered, as he ran with Emma still in his arms, her consciousness wavering. Killian saw David get out of his car, and his eyes grew wide when he took in the sight of his daughter.

"Don’t wake her up, just be there to watch her, please. Tell her we love her and not to worry," Killian says to him as he lays his wife on a white moving table.

In the ambulance, the doctors immediately began touching Emma, testing things and putting small silver sticks in her. They asked Killian many questions about the last hour or so, and he answered what he could.

"Are they going to be alright?" his voice quaking with fear.

No reply.

His fear transitioned to anger, grabbing one of the men and shaking his shoulders, “Tell me you bloody idiots!”

The man turned around, eyes blank with hints of worry and focus.

"We’ll try, but nothing is guaranteed."

Everything else is a blur of fear and sorrow to him.

she’s weak…

…thinned placenta…


That what they called the death of their son. Miscarriage. As if he was nothing quite yet, as if he hadn’t already meant the world to them all. They acted sorry, acted like they cared but if they did they would have done something more. He was more than a fetus, more than just a concept he was their son. Tears begin to fall as his eyes drift to Emma’s abdomen, now hollow and lifeless, a graveyard for what could have been.


He snaps his attention to his daughter, now awake and looking at him, her young eyes full of worry. Guilt fills him at the sight, she shouldn’t be experiencing such pain as a toddler. She reaches up her tiny hand from behind his neck to sloppily wipe the tears that streak his face.

He can’t help but smile at the gesture, kissing her hairline as he runs a hand through her hair.

"Thank you, my love," he says as he pulls her to his chest, cupping the back of her head. He holds her tight, as if she will disappear at any moment.

"Are mommy and baby gon’ be okay?" She asks into his chest,
innocence in her voice. 

He couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t tell their sweet girl that her sibling had passed earlier than anyone he’d ever known. He needed Emma by his side, needs her soft hand around his, her gentle lips on his, her glowing smile and independent attitude. He needs her slightly burnt egg breakfasts with hot chocolate and cinnamon, her scowl when he talks about how “dashingly handsome” he is, gods Emma I need you.

He knows she will wake up. He knows that she is strong, that she won’t leave him and their daughter behind. She can’t. She won’t.

He remembers Holly’s question, eyes brimming with tears once again, though she can’t see them this time.

"Mommy will be okay," is all he says for the moment, relieved by the answer being enough for the child.

He turns his focus back to his wife, his beautiful wife who has undeservingly gone through so much in her life. She doesn’t even know about the child, how he’s left them before he even truly joined them. For selfish reasons, he wants her to wake right then, to see her eyes. He wants to hold her in his arms, feel her breath on his neck, the occasional kiss to his collarbone that always sends shivers down his spine. But he knows when she wakes (not if but when), she will discover the truth, and he doesn’t want her to suffer how he is now. He wouldn’t wish this pain on his worst enemy.

He watches Emma’s chest rise and fall, using it as a sort of lullaby, an umbrella to the cloud that rain on them all. He peppers kisses on his daughter’s head, careful not to wake her. Her small hand is wrapped around his hook, as it always is when he lays down with her. He looks down at the girl, her breath growing even.

"Holly, you know your mother and I love you, don’t you? That we will do anything for you and will always be here, no matter what?"

He’s not sure why he asked it, but he wants to hear her voice, needs her to know how important she was to them. It’s something both him and Emma lacked growing up, and something they made their priority.

"Yes daddy," she mumbles into his chest, almost asleep, "I love you and mommy too."

He smiles at her sweet voice, the sound music to his ears. As he plays with her hair to lull her to sleep, he turns once again to Emma, still the same as he last saw her. He feels an odd mix of love and sorrow fill in his chest, letting go of Holly’s head to hold Emma’s forearm, careful of the silver stick protruding out of the back of her hand. He rubs a soothing thumb along her skin, dreaming and dreading the moment she will finally come back to him.


A song of strangers.


A/N: Dedicated to the lovely, Charlotte, who I was assigned ‘cs secret survivor’ to and who has been wonderful to chat to. Hope you like :)

Inspired by the AU trope, ‘you know you’re singing aloud on your headphones, right?’

"Where words fail, music speaks."


Today is really not her day at all.  

She groans at the sight of rows of seats filled with aggressively staring passengers, reluctantly hauling her tired ass up the stairs and up onto the top deck with a heavy sigh. 

Aches and dull throbs pulsate in places she never knew they could as Emma throws herself down onto a middle-row seat - far enough back to avoid any awkward eye contact, yet not too far back as to avoid any stumbling drunk or junkie - and energy fades away. 

Moving to live in New York City had been a work choice Emma was grateful for, and had accepted swiftly, but now, at having only left the sheriff’s station at 10pm, she was beginning to notice the flaws. 

Didn’t help that she’d bumped into her again.

The irritatingly perfect fiance of an old flame.

Tamara’s sudden reappearance had relapsed Emma back to a time of self-pity and loneliness that left iron-clad walls in a permanent lock around her heart, reminding her how easily trust could be broken, and how easily it was to lose it all. Seeing that the pair, Tamara and Neal, were now happy engaged provoked Emma into thinking that some people were simply meant to be alone. Whilst not a healthy thought, she believed it to strengthen those walls with a determination not to feel that low again.

Or more importantly, to prevent that pain from slipping past her careful guard.

Lulled by the slow rhythm of the bus, Emma rested her head against the window and focused on the stillness. It’d been too long since time had presented itself with a moment to collect her breath and simple rest. 

The quiet peace was soon interrupted by quiet footsteps quickly padding up the stairs. 

Emma groaned. For the love of god, please don’t hit on me with some sleazy pick-up line and leering smirk. 

She felt the harsh curve of the taser beneath her jacket and carefully toyed with its shape until the anxiety began to fade.

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A Way Back Into Love (Part 1)


Killian Jones is the former member of a band that disbanded years ago. At present, his career isn’t really going anywhere until he gets the opportunity to write a song for famous pop star, Grace Jefferson.

Having had no luck writing a successful set of lyrics before, he sets out to find a (sane) lyricist and finds her in Emma Swan, a woman he met by chance when she took over her friend’s plant watering business for a few days.

Together they embark on a journey to write a hit song in less than a week, and discover that maybe they, despite what they’ve each been through in their pasts, can also find their own way back into love.

Based on the 2007 movie, Music and Lyrics that starred Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore.

Word count: 2220

Note: This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written.

Thanks to carmi-believes-in-love for looking over this first part. Part 2 will probably be written by the weekend, or early next week.

Why he had been forced into a meeting with a TV show crew discussing this new television show idea, he would never know. He would be giving Robin an earful about this later that was for definite. The entire premise of this thing was, in a word, ridiculous. Had he agreed to participate, he would have been required to partake in boxing matches with other “Has Beens” from his band days. He couldn’t even understand anyone else agreeing to it, it was outrageous. For this reason, he had politely declined the offer and left, there had to be a better way for him to spend his time, even if his career was in shambles.

His ex-bandmate, Eric, had taken the last songs they’d written together before their band had disbanded and become an extremely successful solo artist. Killian’s career, however, had not been as lucky. Currently, he was getting the occasional gig at a fair or private party, but never anything more than that.

He went straight home from that meeting to his apartment where his manager Robin was waiting for him; he’d called Robin on the way home to explain his reasons for not agreeing to be a part of the new show and Robin said he had other news to share anyway.

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By My Side 2/2


rated F for feels (again) this one is so much worse than part 1  i almost cried while writing it

but it ends happy i promise

for those who don’t know my read mores don’t work so sorry for the scroling if you decide not to read



Emma woke, but didn’t open her eyes. Her last memories flooded into her mind all at once, a tidal wave of emotions. Her body ached, probably from lying in the stiff bed for so long, but other than that she felt fine.

it’s going to be alright, stay calm love

tell her we love her

we’ll try, but nothing is guaranteed

Her eyes snapped open when she felt a hand on her arm. She turned to her left and saw him. His eyes had large dark circles under them, she could tell he hadn’t slept much. His striking blue centers were surrounded by red. He’d been crying, why? Relief flooded his face as soon as he saw her eyes, those beautiful eyes he had been waiting to see for almost a week.

"Hi," she mumbled before his lips captured hers in a single kiss she wasn’t prepared for at all, her body still feeling off. As he kissed her, gently but gratefully, she put her hand on her abdomen, where their son was growing slowly but surely. They pulled apart, and Killian’s eyes are drawn towards where her hand still lied. His face immediately fell so far that his eyes grew a brighter red than before.

"Killian, what’s wrong," she asked gently as she pulled his hand toward their child, "we’re okay."

As soon as he saw what she meant to do, he pulled his hand away, “No!” he yelped, shock and sorrow laced in his voice. He took a moment to recuperate, lowering his voice.

"Emma, don’t do that, please," he mumbled as he removed her hand from her abdomen.

Emma’s smile left as fast as it had come, her heart skipping a beat. He was hiding something, something serious and she needed to know. She sat up in the bed, becoming more confrontational as her pulse grew faster, harder.

"Killian," tears brimmed her eyes now, hot and unstoppable, "Killian what’s going on?" She studied his face, looking for the answer, but she couldn’t find one until he looked at her stomach, hand clenched. He looks so upset, so angry, so sad and she still doesn’t understand—

"No," she whispered, her eyes switching from her husband to her stomach. She looked at Killian and he looked down, unable to look at her, unable to see her shatter before him.

He couldn’t be gone. The doctor said everything was fine, that she was fine and that he was fine but he can’t be fine cause he’s not here. They had picked the name, (Liam, she remembered how bright his eyes and smile were when she had suggested it), were looking at furniture, at houses that would fit them four. Everything they had planned was destroyed, she was destroyed.

"No, no, no!" She escalated to a scream as she brought her knees to her chest, burying her head there. She cried so hard the sobs come out as screams, her body shaking and contracting.

Killian, crying silently with her, climbed into the hospital bed, moving behind her, one leg on either side of her fragile frame. She was small enough for him to wrap his arms around her tucked knees, holding her as close as their position will allow. She fell into his touch, his arms a safe haven in the storm. As is cheek rested on the back of her neck he stayed quiet, having a mutual understanding. Once Emma calmed down enough to speak, she turned towards her pirate, face red and puffy.

"Go," she murmured, not wanting him to go but knowing she has been selfish, the guilt too much to bear.

His face turned from sorrow to shock. The last thing he wanted to do now, or ever, was leave her. He almost lost her and he has to be there for her. He couldn’t leave without a reason.

"Why?" he asked, more at the tip of his tongue, but the words became stiff before he could say them. He tried to make eye contact with his wife but she wouldn’t look at him as she took in a ragged breath. "Emma look at me, please," he pleaded, putting his hook under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Because it’s my fault."

She spoke so quietly he hardly heard her as tears began to fall from her cheeks. He immediately went to deny it when she continued.

"He was in me, it was my job to protect him, my job to make sure he stayed safe and grow healthy. You trusted me, I trusted myself and I was so careful, so cautious. I always do this. I always think I can be trusted, that I can be happy and I always end up hurting myself and everyone around me," she is at full volume, her words fast as she scooted away from Killian’s embrace, "and now he’s gone because of me. I killed him, Killian!" she screamed, finally looking at him. Guilt and fear and self-loathing burn like fire from her eyes, now locked on his. Her voice lowered as the fear and sadness took over, "I killed our son and I am so sorry."

She buried her head back into her knees, though now her back and his arms are significantly colder, lonelier. She ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit of hers he has learned.

How could she have done this to him, to herself, to Holly? Carrying her had been as easy as pregnancy can get. She kept her up at night, kicking from the inside out, wanting to escape, but that was really it. Killian had always been there, massaging what needed to be massaged and helping in any way he could. Whenever he put his hand or hook on her stomach, it got the desired reaction, whether it be to stop or start moving in her womb.

Killian, her amazing husband who deserved so much and got so little. She took his child, their child, from him.

Killian watched as she curled into herself, not sure if to comfort her yet again, feeling the sense she wanted to have a moment to herself. He waiting until his heart felt like it was going to implode, gently grabbing her from under her knees and setting her down on his lap. She began to resist, pushing away but he wouldn’t let her go. This time he didn’t wait; he needed her to know how he felt. He lifted her chin with his hook, keeping it there while his hand cupped her face. Still crying, she leaned into his touch.

"Emma, my love, please listen to me. Not just hear me, but listen, understand and believe the words I say."

She didn’t move, eyes locked on his never ending blue and he knew she was paying attention. His eyes were intense, boring into her and she physically couldn’t look away.

"You did not kill our child. Please don’t be so hard on yourself, there is nothing anyone could have done. There was a complication, but it is not your fault." She began to open her mouth, her protest on the tip of her tongue when he stopped her, repeating his words with more force now, his grip on her face growing more tense.

It is not your fault. Never feel like any of this is your fault, no one but fate is at fault here. All I need is for you and Holly to be okay. When you were unconscious, laying in this bed, God, Emma you scared me to no end. They told me anything was possible, that there was a chance you could have left me too.” His eyes began to water as he spoke, his voice cracking at his confession. “I wouldn’t have been able to survive without you, wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I need you Emma. Though I grieve just as you for the loss of our boy, it is not the end.”

He paused to make sure she could see that all everything he had said was true. He eyes were still leaking, but he could see the trance his words had put her in. “When you are ready, we can try again, only if you please. I would wait a thousand years for you.”

Emma eyes shone with shock and sadness, confusion flickering in her pools of green.

"You aren’t going to leave me?" It’s what’s always happened to her. First her parents, at just three years old when they had a child of their own, along with Neal and countless other people.

He looked at her like she was insane. “Do you think I would ever leave you, leave our beautiful girl? I have slept in these hospital chairs for almost a week waiting for you, and you think I am going to leave? Never, my swan, I will never leave you. Not even death nor worlds nor time will take me,” he reassures, cupping the back of her head.

Love and fear and need guided her lips to his, soft but passionate. She had never been great with words, always using her actions to say what she never could. Every I love you and thank you she felt inside was weaved into her movements, and she knew he could feel it. 

"Where’s Holly?" she questioned when they pulled apart, looking around the room.

"She’s with your parents. She wanted to stay, but after the first night I couldn’t bare to keep her here."

Emma’s eyes lit up at the thought of their daughter, with her dark curls and green eyes, a true ray of sunshine. “Can we call her?” her voice still raspy and weak.

Killian answered her by getting Emma’s phone from the table next to the bed. He had learned enough of how it worked, but had no desire for one of his own, if I need to speak to someone enough I will meet them face to face.

He dialed the number to her parent’s apartment, and after a few rings Mart Margaret picked up the phone.

"Hello, Snow, could you put Holly on? Emma’s awake… Yes you can speak to her after… Thank you"

As Snow gave the phone to Holly, Killian gave their phone to Emma.

Holly picked up the phone Hi Daddy, is Momma awake yet?

"Hello, my love," Emma sang sweetly through the phone.

"MOMMY!" Holly squealed through the phone, so loud that even Killian could hear it clearly. Killian wrapped his arm around her middle, kissing her temple. Emma laughed softly at her reaction, her smile wide, and he knew that thing would be okay


Five and Three


Also available on FFN

i. Kiss

Neverland was a horrible place. It brought out her worst memories and fears, reducing her to nothing more than that little lost girl, shuffled from place to place with no home or family to call her own. So when she thanked him for saving her father’s life – genuinely grateful even though the whole relationship terrified and confused her – and he replied with blatant flirting, she couldn’t help but smile.

In this terrible, terrible place, Killian Jones made her feel something other than sadness. He made her feel good. She wanted to keep the moment going, the feeling, so she responded in kind.

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