Work Text:
Disclaimer: I do not own the show or the characters of Once Upon A Time. There's no profit except writing practice being made here.
"Killian?" Henry called as he stepped out of the school gates. The pirate, in all his dark leather, was easy to spot even as Henry was swallowed by a sea of other children being let out of the schoolyard by the bell. He furrowed his brows at the man, having expected to see his mother, not her friend.
Henry realised what he'd called the man. These double memories were hard. As far as they'd ever been introduced - "Captain's quarters for our guest of honour," "It's just down here," "Killian Jones, at your service lad," "This is Killian. He's- I'm, uhm. I'm helping him with his case" - he was Killian, his mum's friend, for a second, he'd even thought he was his long-absent father, until Henry had been told his father was dead and then Killian was the man who made Henry feel closer to Neal than anybody else. But the man was known as 'Hook' to everyone around Henry. Leroy didn't even know who Henry was talking about when Henry was telling him about how he and Killian could help him clean up his boat.
But Killian wasn't just some friend of his mum's that was nice to him and taught him cool boat stuff and how to bluff in gambling games that his mum would never in a million years let him know if she knew what they were doing. He wasn't just a man who hated his grandfather and liked his grandpa and had the best stories. He was Captain Hook; one of the most undocumented characters of literature in history, adopted by Disney in a way that made people call him a fairytale character, but so under-explored in his original tale that there were so many different tellings - unofficial, of course, there was only one story about Killian Jones in Henry's book - out in the outside world that it was hard to keep track of just exactly what to expect from the man now that Henry knew him to be Captain Hook.
Henry, with Belle's help, had actually printed a list of how Killian's character had been portrayed in his world to ask and ultimately to tease him: friend or father to Pan, Pan himself, the first Lost Boy, some shmuck magically manipulated in Pan's games to be the villain in all of them, a well-educated gentleman, a vicious bloodhound or Mr Darling himself, in love with Tinkerbell, in love with Smee, with Pan, with Tiger Lily.
The only true story was that Killian helped their family and was also, obviously and more importantly, in love with Emma.
So Henry took a leaf from his grandpa's book. He liked the man, Killian was probably the only friend Henry had that was a hundred or so years older than him, but David was Emma's father and Henry was her son, they guarded Emma's heart closely so that she didn't get hurt, which, unfortunately for Henry's friendship with Killian, meant Henry had to put some distance between them.
"I mean," he corrected, "Hi Hook. What are you doing here?"
His hand swept beside them. "Swan said to meet her here."
Henry nodded. "Probably wanted protection while the Snow Queen is out there."
The pirate grinned wickedly at the idea. "I've never known your mother to need protecting."
"Henry! There you are."
"Hey Mary Margaret," Henry called the woman over before turning to Killian to explain. "She came in to school today to pick up her stuff that she left before she had the baby. But I think she came to show off Neal."
Killian's smile softened from something wide that showed all his teeth, to something that was all lip and wrinkles around his eyes. "With a babe like that, can you blame her?"
"I don't know," Henry shrugged. "All he does is cry and sleep."
Killian chuckled. "Give it time, lad. I wager you'll be just as taken with him in no time."
"Hook," Mary Margaret greeted, her newborn strapped tightly to her chest, his cheek pressed to her breast and mouth open, lips parted but connected by a bubble of saliva.
In her hand she held an oversized bag. Killian offered to take it the moment she stepped onto the footpath but Mary Margaret said she was comfortable with it hooked over her shoulder. There was a moment when the queen glared at him and the pirate captain stared right back, until the pair agreed, upon Killian's insistence and Mary Margaret's placating agreement, that should Neal wake up, the new mayor would relinquish the baby bag.
"Emma rang," Mary Margaret explained. "She said David called needing her help at the station. She didn't tell you?"
The question was directed at Killian and Henry tilted his chin up to witness the man's reaction to the comment. It was one of the things Henry liked the most about the man, his expressive face. He didn't hide his feelings like his mums did and Henry could know without words what the pirate was thinking.
Henry didn't think Mary Margaret meant for her comment to be mean, he didn't think she had a mean bone in her body, but she was good at being thoughtless. Even Henry thought her words would have hurt.
But Killian didn't even flinch. Not the way he had when they'd been battling Zelena and their lost memories and Emma had so quickly pushed him away even though he was the only other person in town that Henry actually knew.
Henry expected that Hook would have at least baulked a little, startled with surprise. He and his mum did everything together, or as much as they could while Emma was still telling herself she wasn't opening up to the man. Killian said it was because they made a great team, but Henry got the feeling there was another reason that his mum didn't want to admit to yet. Surely Hook would find it strange that Emma didn't call him to participate in whatever town emergency or minor event that was happening.
All Killian did was shrug. "Perhaps she did. I left my talking device in my lodgings after her message. The noise it emits is insufferable."
Mary Margaret smiled. "Bring it over, Henry can help you with it. You can turn the sound off."
"Aye," the pirate nodded, still scowling. "I had Emma assist me in that, except now the thing does not chirp at all and only works when it is in my hand. I don't have enough hands to be constantly holding the device, waiting for a call from a person I will find easily enough."
There it was, the family motto. As easy as that.
"She must have put it on silent," Henry told his grandmother before turning back to Killian, hoping that his amused smile did not seem to be mocking. "We can put it on vibrate. That way you can still see when it gets a call but it won't be so loud and insufferable."
"Great word, Henry," the teacher in Miss Blanchard reared her head and she grinned down at him with pride.
"It just means you've got to check it more."
"No thank you," Killian scoffed and Henry laughed, knowing what was coming. "I do that, and I run the risk of contacting Mister Smee. Every time I check my talking device, the screen alights with his words. I spent two hundred years in his company, a day off from his voice would be nice."
Henry snorted. Henry knew all about getting really annoyed by the kids in his class, they were his closest friends, truly, yet spending five days a week with them could make him lay his head on the desk in an attempt to block them all out for just a moment. Another part of him felt a little bad for the man, not Smee. After all, he'd been the one to give Smee the Captain's number, assuming Killian would appreciate being in touch with his crew. "But he's your best friend."
"I thought you were my best friend?" Captain Hook whined in that same way that all parents did when they were acting as though their worldview had been rocked by a new development.
Giddy, Henry tipped his head back, almost resting it against his backpack that he carried on his shoulders, and smiled up at the man.
Beside them, Mary Margaret chuckled, softly so as not to wake the baby. "Don't let David hear you boys talking, he'll get jealous."
"Oh," Mary Margaret interrupted her own laughter and Henry and Killian turned their grins to her. "Sir, you don't have to bow. I know we were back in our land and royalty, but we're far less formal here." She turned to Henry and Killian, away from the man stooped low on the sidewalk, his hat almost touching the ground from where he'd lifted it from his head to bow respectfully. "There are a few new people here who don't know the ways of the land even yet."
Killian chuckled, a dark, obviously amused, but twisted little sound - as though it came through his teeth. "Havers. How are you?"
The man, who stood by the fence along the footpath separating the street from the docks lifted his back to stand straight. He looked almost exactly like Henry expected a pirate to with his wild, windswept hair and crooked smile. He seemed healthier than the movies made pirates look, tall and thin but not sick, and better dressed - not quite the everyday modern wear of David, but not the buttons and coats and leather pants of Killian either - plus, he wasn't an old man like the stories made Henry think. In fact, he was only a little older than Henry, with facial hair and pimples growing on his cheeks in the same way it did for the boys in the older grades at school.
"You know this man?" Mary Margaret's hand came up to protect Neal's head again. This time it wasn't a gesture of tenderness but of defence.
"Well, Captain," the hat fitted back onto the wild hair, making it stick out by his ears. He ignored Mary Margaret almost completely. "The crew has bartered for our accommodation and employ, Leroy was very helpful thanks to your introduction."
"I'm glad of it," Killian said, a little dismissively, Henry thought, knowing that these men had probably known Killian for decades. Then again, he thought, he was the captain of them, and a modicum of disinterest had to be used when interacting to keep the crew disciplined, like when Mary Margaret spoke to him at school she was careful not to be overly familiar. "I know some of the lads weren't happy to know we would not be crewing up again."
"Nay, most like it here, sir," Havers, Killian had called him, reported. "We have jobs fishing and crewing what Leroy calls a tourist boat. We help with repairs too."
"I'm happy for it. I don't want you men making more trouble for the Sheriif than necessary." That statement was delivered quite darkly too, like a growl. Henry would have to ask Killian how he did that with his voice, whispered and dangerous. Then he was back to friendly just as quickly, like a proud father, Henry thought, happy that the men in his care had moved on and were taking care of themselves. "And your lodgings. What of them?"
"That is what I am here for, Cap'n." The hat came off, balled between two hands and clutched tightly to the tee-shirt-covered chest. "We share a residence now and would like to invite you and Miss Emma for dinner."
Killian nodded slowly, "Ah."
"Talk to the lady and send word. The lads and I are at the docks most days."
Killian nodded thoughtfully once again and Henry almost asked if he could go see the house the pirates lived in, just so he could be at that dinner table. Maybe not eating fish, he hated fish, but so he could hear their swashbuckling stories.
Havers bowed again, ducking his head somewhat but not fully bending at the waist, but Hook stopped him. "No need to bow, mate. The Mayor said so. What would the crew think if they saw you subjugating yourself in front of royalty?"
"I'd be keelhauled, I'm sure," the other pirate laughed. "Until my Captain reminded them he was affiliating with those same royals. Then they'd all be bowing to aid your cause."
"Good day, Havers," Killian growled again, using his words to shove the man off.
"Your cause?" Mary Margaret asked pointedly, her eyes on Hook as the other pirate turned his back and left towards the entrance of the dockyard.
Killian rolled his eyes, thumbing his belt but saying nothing.
"If Mum's busy, can we go sailing, Killian?" Henry asked, an excited hitch in his step as he looked down the street where the pirate was disappearing to the left, all the boats in Storybrooke lined up in the distance, the blue sky coaxing him forward. "Now that I have my memories back, we can take the Jolly Roger out into the harbour."
"Henry..."
"A real pirate ship and all," Henry turned to tell Mary Margaret, "And now I know how to properly sail it. Not like before. This is going to be so cool."
"Henry?" Killian tried to get his attention, but Henry was busy considering how much of a hero the man had become in recent weeks and how accepted his presence should be in their small town now.
"You can un-cloak it and leave it in the harbour, now," Henry added. "We can bring Mum if you like, show her how good I'm getting."
The pirate stammered, not meeting Henry's gaze. "She's not in the harbour, Henry."
"Hook?" Mary Margaret's voice was sharp and shocked, trembling a little as she snapped her mouth closed over the last consonant. "You went looking for your ship. It's made of Enchanted Wood."
"Aye?"
Snow White's hand cradled the back of little Neal's as though protecting him from what was unspoken. "Portals can be made from Enchanted Wood."
"Looking for a way to break the curse would threaten Emma and Henry's safety," Killian told her, as though the idea was ridiculous. "Regina was clear of the curse's parameters."
Henry felt the magic of the comment, in the same way he felt wonderfully happy when David spoke of meeting Mary Margaret for the first time, or throwing himself in front of her when she had no memory of him. Only true love sacrificed like that. It was so similar to the words his grandparents used to describe why they remained in the Enchanted Forest with Regina without looking for a way back - resigned but aware that their inaction protected Henry and Emma.
Mary Margaret stroked the soft hair of her baby, a strange twist of relief on her face as though she was glad Killian hadn't chopped up his home to get to him and Emma.
"I heard word there was a curse, via bird," Killian explained, "And I procured a bean."
"It's in New York, then." Henry chuckled, giddy just the same. "Cool. We get to road trip again!"
"I don't think your mother will allow you and Emma to venture to the place Swan's been trying to take you back to," the pirate reasoned.
"Mum and I need to go back and get our stuff anyway," Henry said simply. "And we all know you'll come with us unless Emma asks you not to. But she won't, we know that too."
"What makes you think that, Henry?" Mary Margaret asked. "I'd think if anyone went back to New York with your mother it would be her father."
Henry and Killian laughed in synchronicity.
"All respect, your highness," Killian gestured widely, "But your husband will be staying in place with you and his son. As will you, much as you'd like to spend more time with your daughter. Regina will wish Henry to stay in her care but Swan will need a hand. And the company."
Just like that, Killian's place in their little group of heroes was labelled. He kept Emma company and in doing so he kept her sane.
Just as quickly, Mary Margaret explained his other role. "Unless she asks you to stay and protect Henry. Or myself and Neal."
Henry watched the adults smile at each other, each grinning as though they'd won some sort of argument Henry didn't realise was occurring.
"What's it even matter?" he exhaled. "Mum hates not knowing the dangers of the town while she's not in it. And Killian needs his ship back. And," he added, like the final palm card in his winning debate speech, "It should be the three of us to go, because it was the three of us at the start. It'll be a nice way to finish the story like it started. Especially if it gets added to the book."
"That is a good idea, Henry," Mary Margaret praised in that aloof but genuine way teachers did. "You should make sure you use that sort of creative thinking in the writing you do for class."
Henry rolled his eyes. His mother hated when he did it so Henry assumed it was a fairly new skill he'd probably adopted from his mum.
"You won't even have to pretend you know about the radio and billboard signs this time," Henry tried to win the pirate over. "Although, you were pretty good at it last time."
"I'll not be travelling in that contraption if you are to pick the music as you did last time, lad."
"You don't want Mum to pick it," Henry warned.
"You had things in your ears the entire time, Henry," Killian countered, bargaining with Henry as they planned the trip back to New York. Henry could feel his excitement coursing through his veins. He turned around to face Hook and Mary Margaret, walking backwards so they could have a proper discussion about it. He didn't need to see behind him anyway, Mary Margaret's mouth dropped open a little every time he veered slightly as if she was afraid he'd hit something.
"Headphones," Herny explained. "Because you and Mum are gross. And you were whispering weird things and then not talking at all. Can we though? Can we go on a road trip again?" Henry implored. "You need your ship back. You can't just leave it in the city. And it was fun last time."
For the first time, Henry doubted himself. Killian's forehead hadn't smoothed out from his shock nor the sides of his mouth from his frown, and Mary Margaret's ajar lips were difficult to read - the footpath was straight and uncracked and they'd all stopped walking.
"Wasn't it?"
"It's not in the city you stayed in that year, Henry."
Henry couldn't understand why Killian was talking to him so slowly, like he was not understanding something important. He never did that to anyone, except for Smee that one time Henry had seen them interact with words and not just pointed looks.
"Then where is the Jolly Roger?" Surely it was in the city. How else would Killian have got to them if not through a portal on his ship, just like he had done last time? "I want to sail a pirate ship."
Killian sighed. "I imagine she's sailing the high seas."
"She's back in the Enchanted Forest?" Henry's grandmother asked, less horrified that she had been a moment ago, but still pale with shock and quiet with fear for what Hook might say next.
"Aye," Killian wouldn't meet Henry's eye line, facing the sea instead. "In the care of a truly vile villain, sullied by Blackbeard's hand. I'd prefer not to think of it."
"Blackbeard? Your mortal enemy?" Henry stopped, his hands dropping from where he held the straps of his backpack, before he qualified his discovery with; "After Mr Gold and Peter Pan."
"Hook," Mary Margaret whispered, "You didn't."
Hook shrugged. "Emma and Henry were in danger."
"All this time Mum and I have been desperate to go back to the city and questioning our place here," Henry gasped, "But what about you? You lost your home too."
Killian extended his hand to ruffle Henry's hair, making him squirm a little, his ears going hot. But Hook didn't do it to distract him like some of the other adults did, or to praise him, like the rest of his family did when he did or said something particularly helpful, and Henry liked the soft look that had come over his normally sharp features.
"No. I didn't."