Chapter Text
Emma turned over and buried her face in her pillow, her eyes tightly shut against the brightness of the sun flooding through the window. She stretched and her brow wrinkled in confusion as she realized that she had gone to bed in her clothes. Suddenly the previous evening came flooding back and her eyes snapped open. Not her bed. Not her room. Her eyes snapped wide when she saw that she was not alone. Killian was asleep in the small easy chair next to the bed, his head resting against the back and his face relaxed in repose. Emma felt herself blush as she flopped back onto the bed. Oh, Lord. Mary Margaret and David would be wondering where she was. She bolted upright. Henry! She scrambled from the bedding and began searching for her shoes.
“Emma?”
Emma, half under the bed, jerked up and banged her head on the underside of the bed frame. Sliding out, she pushed her hair out of her face and rose to her knees. “I’m sorry I woke you,” she rushed, “but I can’t find my shoes, and Henry will be wondering where I am, and I’m sure Mary Margaret is having David drag the harbor by now, and . . .”
“Emma, love, take a breath,” Killian said gently as he ran his hands through his sleep-mussed hair. “It’s barely seven o’clock, I’m sure your lad is still asleep, and I called David last night to let him know where you were.”
Emma gaped at him for a moment, then, “You told my father that I was sleeping over with you?” she exclaimed, a blush staining her cheeks.
“Of course not, love,” he replied with a smile. “Had I done that, your dear Papa would have been over here in a trice and holding a blade to my throat. I told him that you had the bed and I, of course, took the chair. He seemed satisfied with that.”
Emma stared blankly and then a smile ghosted across her face. “Thank you, Killian,” she told him softly.
“It was just a phone call, love.”
“No,” Emma protested as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Thank you for last night. I thought I wanted to be alone but . . . it helped to be with you.”
“You’re welcome,” Killian replied softly. “It was the same for me. For the first time . . .” he broke off, shrugged as though uncertain of what he would say next.
“Yes?”
Killian raised his eyes to hers and Emma felt as though he had reached out and touched her. “For the first time in a long time, I knew that I wasn’t alone in my grief. When I lost Liam, then Milah, and then Baelfire in Neverland, there was . . . no one.”
“Killian, I just . . . I don’t know what to say,” Emma admitted, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress.
The pirate shook his head. “It’s alright, love,” he assured her. “Sometimes you don’t need to say anything.” He leaned to the side and picked up her shoes, holding them out to her. “Didn’t think you’d be too comfortable in these,” he smiled.
“Thanks,” Emma replied as she slipped them on. “Are you ready to go?”
“Go?” Killian asked in surprise. “Go where?”
“With me, of course,” Emma answered as she stood and ran her hands through her tumbled curls.
“Love, I don’t know if I’d be the most welcome face at your parents’ home today. There are bound to be visitors throughout the day and some might blame me for Bae’s death.”
“No one blames you, Killian,” Emma protested. “And . . . it would mean a lot to me if you were there. If you feel uncomfortable or if anyone gives you any trouble, we’ll leave.”
“We?”
“Yeah,” Emma replied gently. “We.”
Killian smiled and stood. “Let’s go.”
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Emma pushed open the door of her parents’ apartment and Mary Margaret immediately rushed over to her. “Emma, honey, are you alright? I was so worried when . . .” She broke off when she saw Killian enter the apartment right behind her daughter.
“I’m fine,” Emma assured her as she hung up her jacket. “Didn’t David tell you that Killian called him last night?”
“Yes,” Mary Margaret replied slowly, her eyes darting between her daughter and the pirate. “But I was still wishing you were home with us.”
“Snow, she’s fine,” David assured her as he came out of the kitchen to join them. He held out his hand to Killian and, after a brief moment of surprise, Killian reached out and shook the Prince’s hand. “Thank you for taking care of her, Killian,” David said earnestly. “I was glad to know that she was with someone we could trust.”
Killian blinked, astonished by such a statement of confidence. “You’re welcome,” he finally replied. “Actually, I think we took care of each other.”
“Is Henry up yet?” Emma asked, her voice filling the sudden silence. “I was worried that I wouldn’t get home in time.”
“He’s still out like a light,” Mary Margaret told her, placing a soothing hand on her daughter’s arm. “Why don’t you both come into the kitchen and have some breakfast? I’m afraid it’s going to be a long day.”
The four made their way into the kitchen and Mary Margaret started pulling ingredients out of the refrigerator. “Oh, Mary Margaret, just coffee for me, please,” Emma protested but Mary Margaret shook her head. “No, Emma, you’re going to need more than that. I’ll just make something simple. Scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. Alright?”
Emma was about to object when Killian put a hand on her arm and leaned in to whisper, “Let her do this, love. She needs to take care of you right now.”
Emma sighed, turning her head to meet his eyes, and nodded. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, her eyes never leaving Killian’s. “That sounds great.”
Mary Margaret’s breath hitched a little when she heard Emma call her “Mom” but she managed to smile and nod as she continued to bustle about the kitchen. David, meanwhile, sat quietly at the table, nursing his coffee and watching the interaction between his daughter and the pirate with narrowed eyes. Something had changed, he realized. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it but if it gave Emma a little peace in the midst of so much sadness and upheaval, he wasn’t going to do anything to disrupt it.
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“Gold wants to have the funeral this afternoon,” David said gently as Emma was helping to clean up the breakfast dishes. Her shoulders stiffened briefly before she turned, a towel in her hand. “So soon?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.
David nodded as he finished stacking the clean plates in the cabinet. “He thinks the sooner that Neil is put to rest, the sooner everyone can focus on bringing down the Witch.”
Emma’s inhaled deeply, her breath hitching slightly. “I suppose he’s right,” she replied softly. “I just . . . hadn’t let myself think about it, I guess.”
“Emma, last night . . .”
Emma cut him off. “Please, David, don’t start about Killian. Nothing happened and I really needed . . .”
“Emma, honey, I’m not going to say anything about Killian,” David assured her, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. “I was just going to say that, last night, when he called, I was so relieved that you were able to find someone who could help you. It’s hard for me to say this,” he admitted, a slight grimace on his face, “but I think he was one of the only people in town who could have really understood what you’re going through. If he can make any of this easier on you, he has my full support.”
Emma gazed at David in astonishment before flinging her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. “Thank you, Dad,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears.
“Oh, honey,” David murmured, his hand cradling her head as he embraced her. “You know that I’m always on your side, no matter what.”