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Reevaluating her life over the rim of a toilet bowl was not where Emma Swan thought she would be at 20– well, maybe it’s not that far off, but she thought Killian would be here too. Life keeps giving her glaring reminders that he isn’t and hasn’t been for nine fucking months. All she’s got is her shitty one-night-stand turned casual fuck, Neal who won’t even hold her hair back as she pukes up the Fireball he made her drink.
Killian doesn’t drink whiskey. Even if he did, Killian would hold her hair.
Killian .
Funny how someone 2000 miles away can simultaneously be the cause of all your problems and the only one who can fix them.
She hears the front door shut and yells for Neal. She doesn’t expect a response— assuming he’s left her to her own devices for the night— so she jumps when someone answers back.
“Emma, love?”
Great. Now she’s hallucinating.
Except she’s not, and when she feels the familiar, warm touch of Killian’s hand scoop her sweaty hair from the nape of her neck, she’s confident this is as real as the next bout of vomit making its way up her throat.
Welcome home, Jones.
She hears him sigh her name under his breath, but is too embarrassed to look at him, the bowl of the toilet seeming like a perfect hiding spot of shame. When she’s finished, he gently tugs on the hair he’s twisted into a scrunchie (how he managed to find one is beyond her) and she knows he’s onto her.
Emma groans, the noise echoing through her porcelain hideout and she hears Killian bark out a laugh as she turns to face him.
He looks so much older. He always was more mature, but the Navy made him look the part too. His eyes are still the same though, blue and kind. Emma has so much to say to him, a swirl of every emotion imaginable making her feel slightly dizzy once more. She centers herself by asking the most obvious question, “What are you doing here?”
He winces at the same moment she realizes the venom in her voice. Guess even five– probably more than five– shots of Fireball and an hour of puking can’t hide months of resentment.
But she knew that.
He speaks softly– no pity laced in his tone, just understanding and maybe some guilt, “Your dad called.”
Emma is sure this is the eyeroll her mother warned her about— you know, the one where her eyes are stuck backwards forever and she has to get a dog to help her cross the street. Does Killian even like dogs? Of course he does, everyone likes dogs. Why does it matter to her if Killian likes dogs...
Focus, Emma. Your dad called him.
“Of course he did. Well thanks for coming. Clearly , it’s been great. I can take care of myself.” She spins on her butt to straddle the toilet once more and while she can’t see him she knows Killian is running his hand over his face.
She knows Killian better than she knows herself, every mannerism, tick, and pet peeve. She also knows his heart– fierce, kind, and loyal. And don’t even get her started on his face— handsome and one that would stand out in thousands. Emma thought she was past all this. Get a grip – he left you. He left you in this stupid town with no one but your parents and Neal . Hello, resentment, it’s great to see you again.
She groans and throws her head into her arms resting on the edge of her new friend. Killian chuckles once more and Emma can’t help but shoot him a warning glance.
“I missed you, Swan.”
She missed him too. Despite all the anger in her, love is winning out. Love will always win out when it comes to Killian and Emma’s not sure why she’s surprised. She was too stubborn to admit it was love until he was fourth months into basic training and she felt his absence like a hole in her chest.
When she doesn’t answer, he kisses the top of her forehead and tells her he’s going to grab some crackers and Gatorade but to yell if she needs him. Killian’s always been like this, an anchor to her wild storm. He knows when to push her buttons and when to just be there. Killian always seemed to be there— and then he just… wasn’t.
Emma can’t blame him for changing the life plans they made when they met that first summer. They were only 14 and she’s not sure why her heart put so much stock in what he said under that willow tree.
Probably because she knew he meant it. If Killian Jones was anything, he was loyal.
But life happens— no, shit happens. Brothers go off to war, decide to be the hero, and never come home. And men like Killian feel a duty to continue their legacy.
Like she said, loyal. And who is she to get in the way of destiny?
It’s just… she thought she was that destiny. She thought he was going to be different. Emma’s life threw her an innumerable amount of twists but the one she never saw coming was Killian leaving.
A small voice somewhere deep in her soul reminds her he came back— it sounds like her mother— but a much louder voice seems determined to remind her he left at all. It reminds her that he left and she went off the rails and that somehow that makes it his fault.
Killian would kill her if he knew all she’d done— and not done— in the past nine months.
Somehow she suspects he already knows, and that’s what has her tearing up as he returns to the bathroom with comfier clothes and the promised snacks to calm her stomach.
He makes it so hard to let go. She doesn’t want to let go.
He turns away as she slips into the sweatpants as though he hasn’t seen her underwear a hundred times— trips to the quarry at midnight playing like film reels in her mind. As she slides on the sweater– his oversized cardigan she stole years ago– Killian slides down the wall and sits across from her. She relaxes at his touch, his legs long enough that the bottom of his feet touch her knees.
Swans. She bought him those socks.
They sit in silence for a while. He watches her intently as she hydrates and eats the crackers he brought. Meanwhile, her head is reeling at how to start a conversation that’s approximately 6 years and 9 months overdue.
How does she tell him he hurt her when he left because she doesn’t know how life works without him by her side? How does she tell him she’s sorry that she’s broken? How does she tell him that she’s used goods now, tainted, while he’s growing into the man she always knew he’d be? How does she tell him she’s not good enough for him?
That she loves him?
As if on cue, Killian speaks, “Swan, we need to talk. I know you don’t do talking, but we can’t avoid this any longer and I don’t have much time before–“
“Don’t say it.” She knows the end of the sentence will pierce her heart like 1000 knives. Logically she knew he’d have to leave again, basic training bleeding almost directly into some sort of placement. (Emma isn’t entirely sure how the Navy works, but she knows Killian will always be somewhere else.) “I know what you’re going to say, but don’t say it. We need to talk sure, but don’t already put us on a timer, Jones.”
He nods solemnly. “Tell me about Neal.”
She can’t help the laugh that bursts out of her. “I haven’t seen you in nine months and you want to know about Neal .” Emma feels herself grow hysteric, the giggles bubbling out of her uncontrollably.
Killian doesn’t seem amused. “Aye, Swan. I had to kick him off your couch– bloody knockered by the way– while you were neck deep in a toilet, so pardon me if I’m a tad curious.”
His tone brings Emma back down to earth like a bucket of cold water. “He’s nothing Killian. Just someone to warm the bed. I’m sure you understand.” A low blow– so low, she has to hold back a flinch. Emma knows Killian… loyal .
But what did he have to be loyal to? They never said more than a goodbye. No commitments or strings attached. Emma told herself that’s what Killian wanted.
She knows it wasn’t.
“Ouch, Swan. You know me better than that.” He levels with her, his eyes slowly becoming lighter than the stormy blue that was present when he arrived.
Emma speaks at almost a whisper, “He told me he loved me…” She doesn’t need to finish her statement. Killian knows what that means to her, and it’s probably why he never said it– that or she’s been seriously misreading his signals for 6 years.
Foster care makes that word as fragile as an antique vase– the misuse of it shattering the antiquity til there is nothing of value left. It’s an easy way to get a foster kid to trust you. Neal used it to get in her pants, and she let it happen. Sure, she has David and Mary Margaret now , but it was 13 years of different homes and broken promises.
That doesn’t go away.
Killian grabs her knee and slides her over to him, positioning her comfortably by his side and she instinctively rests her head on his shoulder. She doesn’t mean to say her next sentence aloud, but it escapes her lips all the same, “I’m too broken without you, Killian.”
She hates how pathetic she sounds, never one to rely on anyone but herself.
Still, Killian was different from that moment in Morrison Park. She went there to read and Killian, new to the area, was sitting in her spot doing just the same. The rest is history. They didn’t know each other their whole lives but they grew up together. He stuck with her through the excruciatingly long adoption process, and she held his hand through the entirety of Liam’s funeral. People rarely addressed one without the other and they became a unit. When Killian left, she broke– a cog in her mechanics coming to a halt.
“That’s bullshit.” Emma sits up at his profanity– she’s not sure he’s ever sounded so American.
“Excuse me?” She can’t help but chuckle at her shock.
“It’s bullocks, Emma. You aren’t broken in the slightest. How could I make you whole when you were already so complete without me?” Emma is stunned to silence as Killian looks at her as intensely as he did the night they said goodbye. “You don’t need me to be you, Emma Swan. I’m just the fortunate one who gets to watch you become who you’re supposed to be.”
Emma is crying now. “But I’ve ruined everything . I didn’t go to school, I stopped showing up at Granny’s, my mom is–“
Killian cuts her off, “And who said you can’t start now?”
It’s the most simple piece of advice anyone has ever given her, but it feels like an epiphany. She thought losing Killian was the end, that she couldn’t go on with life without her best friend there every step of the way, but she was dead wrong. Killian never would’ve wanted her sulking over his choices, so why would she?
This isn’t her. It never was. Killian speaks again, “This lifestyle– it… it may have been easier than venturing out on your own, but none of your life has been easy, Swan. Why start now?” She nods, taking him in. “And you know that no matter what you do or how you feel, you’ll always be my favorite being on this earth.”
Emma wipes a tear from her cheek and looks away, too overwhelmed to think about what he’s truly saying.
He loves her. Always has— probably as long as she’s loved him. Until now she thought it couldn’t be because he never said it, but as she replays the six years of their friendship, she sees it. Vintage t-shirts found at Goodwill, children’s games like Candy Land or hide n’ seek, nights out with fake ids, reading under the willow tree– he left and she thought it was because none of that was enough for him anymore. That she wasn’t enough. And for a moment, when he first entered her bathroom, she was convinced he was only back because of her dad.
She’s a fucking idiot.
Emma stands up abruptly, on a mission to right the wrongs she’s created over the past nine months. Killian looks taken aback by her sudden movement but remains on the floor.
She brushes her teeth.
When she’s done she reaches out a hand to help him stand. Before he can get his footing, she’s pulling him into a kiss that almost knocks them both off their feet. Her back slams into the stone sink, but the feeling of Killian connected to her at last overrides the pain. Killian starts to laugh when they come up for air, and Emma initially fears the worst. He kisses her once more, gently, before speaking, his lips brushing against hers as he talks, “I appreciate you brushing your teeth before doing that, but, full disclosure, I’m not sure I would’ve minded.”
Emma laughs, “I’m sorry it took me so long.” He rubs his thumb over her cheek and she leans into the touch. “You came back.”
He kisses her again, “Did you ever doubt that I would?”
Emma answers him with a kiss, but deep down she knows he’s right. Despite losing her way, and holding months of anger towards him, she knew he wasn’t the same as everyone else who had ever let her down. It was easier to hate him for leaving than to love him and let him go, but she doesn’t want easy anymore. And as Killian unbuttons his old cardigan later that week, sending shockwaves through her system, she realizes no matter what it takes, she wants to remain his favorite forever.