Chapter Text
On his days off from the station, Killian was always happy to help Belle around the library, even if it just meant keeping Gideon occupied while Belle got work done around the building. He’d developed a special bond with the lad over the past year and a half of calm, and the boy’s shouts of “Unc’l Killy!” never ceased to make his heart skip a beat. He was forever grateful to Belle for allowing him to have this relationship with her son, but...he longed for one of his own.
He knew Emma did, too; they’d talked about it more than once. However, it was the thought of pregnancy that stopped her, and he completely understood her concerns after what she went through carrying Henry. And he knew there were other ways of acquiring a child, but the nature of Storybrooke had a way of prohibiting them.
By no means were they unhappy, and Henry was certainly enough for them; but there was more than enough love between them that they wanted to share it. If only they could figure out how.
“Unc’l Killy, no stop!” Killian jumped as Gideon slapped the picture book he was holding; he hadn’t realized he’d trailed off, lost in thought. There was something that just felt so right about having a little human in his lap that made his mind wander.
“Apologies, my boy,” he answered, and continued telling the tale before them—and a few others—until Gideon fell asleep, and he was content to stay there as the boy napped, watching his tiny parted lips and long lashes that lie on his cheeks while he slumbered.
He hardly noticed when Belle came by, with mugs of tea for both of them, and sat in the plush chair adjacent to Killian’s. She smiled gently at the boys next to her. “You seem awfully comfortable there.”
Killian blushed as he carefully picked up his mug, cautious not to spill on the babe in his lap. “It’s hard not to be,” he replied bashfully. “Your lad is just so sweet.”
“I know. Any changes on that front with you?” He’d confessed his feelings about the situation before to Belle; it wasn’t anything he hadn’t told Emma already, but it was nice to have someone else to talk to about it.
“Afraid not. It honestly seems like a dead end at this point.” He chuckled humorlessly, “Hell, I’d carry a child myself if that were an option.”
Belle perked at his comment, but then she shook her head, as if having an internal debate. He could tell that she was withholding something.
“Belle, what do you know?” he enquired slowly, curious at her reaction.
She started, a bit sheepishly, “Um, well, there might be...I mean, I might know where to find a spell that allows for just that.”
“Seriously?” His heart raced at the idea—though he wasn’t sure if it was in excitement, fear, or both.
“I came across it a while back when I was doing some research to...well, to keep myself and Gideon safe, before he was born. I can’t remember the details, but I can show it to you, if you’d like.”
“I’d like that very, very much, love.”
She gave him a small smile. “Alright then. Meet me at Granny’s for breakfast and I’ll bring what I’ve got.”
It was all he could do to keep his elation at the idea from Emma that night; he didn’t want to get her hopes up if it turned out to be for nought. But he definitely reminded her how much he loved her, child or no.
The next morning, Regina arrived at Granny’s at the same time he did. “Your Majesty,” he greeted as he held the door open for her. She scoffed, as always, but he still noticed the slight blush on her cheeks. He wasn’t quite sure how to describe the odd friendship the two former villains had settled into, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.
He followed her inside, and had just started scanning the room when Belle called him—and Regina, to his surprise—to the booth she’d claimed, where she was waving at them with an ancient-looking book in front of her.
“Is that it?” he asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice as he took a seat across from Belle. She nodded excitedly.
“What’s this little pow-wow all about, then?” Regina asked as she slid into the booth next to Killian.
“First off, can you put some sort of silencing spell around us? I’m not sure we want this overheard just yet,” Belle began. Regina nodded and waved her hand; suddenly, the din of the diner was gone and their words were only for each other. “Alright, Killian and I were chatting yesterday, and I remembered that this spell existed. I wanted to have you take a look at it before we go any further on it.”
Carefully, Belle opened the tome to a marked page, and turned and slid it across to Regina. Killian watched in anticipation as Regina’s eyes scanned the page, only going slightly wide when she realized what she was reading. He braced himself for a snide comment, but none came.
She turned to him, though, with a soft look on her face. “You really want to do this, Killian?”
“Aye,” he said solemnly. “How difficult is it?”
Regina gave him a small, wistful smile, before she explained. “Not very, but it does have to be done right. Here, take a look.” She passed the book to him, and he read the Elvish script as she described it. “This is going to sound a bit clinical, but basically, it would transfer the necessary organs over at the necessary time, starting at the time of conception and right up until the baby was born. Emma would have to cast it, but I assume you planned on talking to her first.”
“Of course.” He noticed in his own translation that the transfer didn’t happen all at once: some parts didn’t switch over until it was time to give birth, and some didn’t at all—nursing would still be Emma’s job. But thankfully, the spell would last indefinitely, if they didn’t conceive on their first try; however, it couldn’t be reversed. “Is there anything we’d need to procure?”
Regina skimmed the list of ingredients. “No, I have everything; and anything I don’t would come from the two of you. If you really want to do this, we can.” Killian’s vision suddenly got blurry; this could actually happen! He looked up at the feeling of pressure on his hand where it rested on the table; Belle was squeezing it in support and grinning, and he couldn’t help but return it. “But,” Regina started in a warning tone. “I won’t do anything until Emma comes to me with this. And think about it, Hook—pregnancy isn’t a walk in the park.”
“I know.” But he also knew it’d be worth it.
“And he’ll have all the support in the world,” Belle added.
“Just wait until the grandparents find out,” Regina continued, joking, but they all knew that Snow would lose her mind. “Think it over and let me know what you two decide, okay? I have to get to the office. I’ll see you later.” The sound of the diner rushed back in and Regina gracefully stood up and slipped out of the diner, leaving Killian and Belle alone with the revelation.
Belle squeezed his hand again. “Hey, talk to me.”
Honestly, his thoughts were a jumbled mess. It was definitely going to be a leap of faith, and he wasn’t sure how hard it would be to sway Emma, but he felt incredibly optimistic. All he could manage to reply, in a watery voice, was, “I can have a child.”
He spent the rest of the day taking care of the Jolly Roger, and it was impossible not to imagine a toddler running around the ship with Emma’s fair hair and his blue eyes. Or the reverse. More than once, he caught himself staring into space at the idea.
When he was done, he rushed home to get dinner ready, preparing Emma’s favorite foods in a subtle attempt to charm her to the idea, even though he was ever hopeful she’d be on board.
“What’s this?” she asked as she came in the kitchen that night, wrapping her arms around him from behind while he flipped a grilled cheese on the stove. “Are you trying to butter me up to something?”
Not as subtle as he thought, then. “Am I not allowed to make my wife’s favorite dinner just because?”
“Just because what?” she asked, playfully.
He moved the finished sandwich onto a plate on the counter and turned in her embrace. “Just because he loves her to the ends of the earth and beyond.”
“Mm, okay,” she conceded, laughter playing in her green eyes, and rose to her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. “But I can still tell you’re up to something,” she added when she pulled back. “What is it? Is everything okay?” Worry slipped into her tone.
“Aye, love; everything is fantastic. Take a seat and I’ll tell you about it.”
She gave him a curious look, but then did as he said. She snorted as she pulled out her chair, and then joked, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were telling me you were pregnant.”
He paused, facing away from her as he picked up the dinner plates—did she know? Nerves suddenly filled his stomach, but he swallowed them down as he returned to her. After setting the dishes on the table, he took his own seat and started. “No, but...it is about that.”
The amused look on her face quickly fell. “Killian, we’ve talked about this—”
“I know, love, and I understand why you don’t want to go through that. I’m not asking you to; I never would. But,” he began to explain, having to swallow again. “What if I told you there was another way to have a child—our child—without you carrying it?”
She tilted her head in confusion. “What, like a surrogate?”
“Aye, I supposed that’s what it would be.”
“Who, though? Did you want to ask my mom, or Regina, or—”
“Me.”
Emma’s mouth hung open for a moment, but then she closed it, furrowing her brow and shaking her head. “I’m sorry, did you just say...you?”
“I did.”
“But...how?”
He shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “Magic.”
“There’s seriously a spell that lets a man carry a child?”
“Don’t tell me you’re actually that surprised, love.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be,” she conceded. “But...seriously, Killian? There’s a reason I don’t want to put myself through that again, and it’s not just the psychological stuff. It kind of sucks.”
“So I’ve heard.” He was shocked at how calm he was, but Emma’s reaction wasn’t far from what he expected; he knew there would be some level of incredulity, as well as concern for him. But she hadn’t shot it down yet.
Emma chewed her lip in thought. “How would it work? What would we have to do?”
He bit back a grin at that; knowing Emma, that meant she was practically on board. “I can explain all the particulars after dinner; now, eat before your meal goes cold, and tell me about your day.”
She snorted. “Well, you certainly sound like a mom.” They carried on easily with the meal, even though the weight of the looming conversation hung over them, and Emma quickly cleaned and then joined him in the sitting room, where he was waiting for her on the sofa.
“So,” she started.
“So.”
“Tell me what you found.”
He cleared his throat, opened the ancient spellbook sitting on the coffee table, and explained the whole thing as best he could, using the rudimentary anatomical drawing on the page for help. She asked many of the same questions he had that morning, and seemed satisfied with the answers.
“Okay, let me make sure I have this right, and forgive my use of scientific terms: so basically, we cast this spell, I drink the potion, and whenever we conceive a child, my uterus will transfer over to you?”
“Yes.”
“But not my vagina?”
“Not until labor starts.”
“And not my boobs.”
“That’s not a clinical term, but no, not ever.”
“What about after birth? It takes a bit for that stuff to go back to normal.”
“Um...the translation comes to, ‘everything will return to its owner when it has returned to its earlier state.’ So I suppose that will take some time.”
“Okay.” She stared at the book a bit more, a pensive look on her face. He wanted to ask what she was thinking, but then she spoke up. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? You’ve seen first-hand that it’s not easy, and there can always be complications. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she admitted in a small voice.
He took her hand in his and used his hook to nudge her face up, bringing their eyes level. There was trepidation in hers, but he could see the excitement lingering behind that. “Swan, our life together, right now, is happier than I ever thought I’d get. And if I can do this to add to that happiness, I’m more than willing to go through whatever it will take to let our love and family grow.”
The concern on Emma’s face had softened a bit, giving way to a tiny smile. “How do you always know the right thing to say?” she wondered, lightly teasing.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded. “Yeah, it is. If you’re sure, I’m sure. Let’s do this.”
He had no words that would serve to describe his elation at her agreeing; he was almost laughing in glee and his grin hurt his cheeks. All he could do was pull her tight and place a searing kiss on her lips. “Thank you, love,” he finally managed to utter as he held her close.
She leaned back a bit and glanced up at him through her lashes seductively. “Well, now that that’s settled, why don’t we go get some practice at making that baby?”
He immediately felt arousal build within. “Lead the way, darling.”