Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The moment replayed in his head on loop constantly. The moment he lost her, the moment his world changed irreparably. It wasn’t a moment he’d soon forget. Decades in Neverland did nothing to ease the pain, he still remembered that day perfectly clearly, and he knew he would for life.

You never forget loosing the love of your life.

The pain of losing her forever echoed in his mind, a vicious reminder of how he’d failed her.

He knew he’d never be able to move on from this, to be able to move on from her. He knew he wouldn’t find love again, not like he had with her.

That much was certain, his only purpose was now to destroy the Crocodile, so that he might avenge her. And finally be at peace. That was all that awaited him in this life, that much he was sure of.

Tonight, was like every other night for the past… he didn’t even know how long it’d been- plagued by the same recurring nightmare, of not being able to save her. It was his fault that Milah was gone, and every night he was forced to relive that fateful day.

Killian awoke suddenly, pain coursing through his skull as he tried to recall the cause. In truth he couldn’t remember, but he figured it had something to do with the rum in his flask, one of these days, he swore he was going to drink himself into an early grave. Maybe that would be for the best, it’s not like he had much to live for anyway.

No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to kill the Crocodile, that was his life’s purpose, whatever happened after was up to fate.

But something about this was different, he was no stranger to the effects of rum but this wasn’t like that. His brain felt hazy, foggy even. Like he was forgetting something important. Really important actually. He just had no idea what.

Other than his ridiculous headache, he felt physically fine, which was something he’d never thought he’d feel again. His hand, or stump now wasn’t hurting due to his brace. Something he’d mostly gotten accustomed to, his hand had hurt every day since it’d been cut off and now it just didn’t. Strange.

Daring to open his eyes, curious as to what the cause of this was, he was greeted to a blinding stream of light that invaded his senses, and caused his head to throb. Bloody hangover or whatever the hell this was. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the unfairly bright environment, before he was examining his stump. And for some strange reason it looked better, not healed or anything, his hand was still definitely not there. But for the first time since it had been forcibly removed, it didn’t look angry or inflamed, it looked like he’d actually taken the time for it to heal. When did that happen? 

But his stump wasn’t the strangest thing, far from it. The better question was… Where the bloody hell was he?

This wasn’t his ship, nor Neverland for that matter. How did he get off that infernal island? Unless this was one of Pan’s tricks, but that didn’t seem right. It appeared he was finally free.

How the hell did that happen?

He was inside a building, a large unfamiliar one. Some sort of palace or mansion perhaps? He was lying on a couch, a rather luxurious one that that, and there were a couple of other chairs around. The wall opposite the couch had a strange black picture, which felt like an odd choice of decor. But he wasn’t in a position to be judging the interior design choices of this place, when he didn’t even know where this place was.

Lacking the memory of how he got here really limited his ideas of where here was- what realm was this even? As he moved to sit up, to gain a better understanding of his situation, the moment only making his head throb more, he suddenly heard a piercing shriek - of joy? That did nothing to help his migraine. 

“Daddy! You’re awake!” He heard a voice cry out before suddenly he was attacked by a blonde mass of hair jumping onto his lap and hugging him relentlessly. Where. The. Hell. Was. He.

The person that attacked him, or child rather, couldn’t be much older than a babe, and more surprisingly she seemed relieved to see him. No one had been anything resembling worried, about him in far, far too long. Not since Milah or Liam before that, so why did this child now seem so caught up in his well being?

He was temporarily frozen in shock, this wasn’t like any of the lost boys in Neverland and he definitely wasn’t in pain or being attacked, he recognised the hug for what it was - he wasn’t that unused to physical contact, but it still was strange. He hadn’t been hugged since Milah really and she wasn’t one for things like this often.

He tried prising her off him but that only caused her grip to tighten around him, before he gave up and simply let her hug him for a moment. He’d figure out where this was in a second.

He had no idea what to do with his arms as the young lass continued to hold onto him tightly, he hesitantly patted her back with his hand, feeling completely clueless.

He wasn’t someone people get worried about, especially not children. “Erm, where are your parents lass?” His voice sounded hoarse, and he cringed at the sound, when was the last time he’d had something other than run to drink?

He needed to find her parents and get her off of him. That was his priority.

The child perked up at being spoken too, and temporarily loosed her grip on him, looking up at him with an incredulous look, but that wasn’t what caught his attention, no, it was her eyes. Her ocean blue eyes that felt like he was looking in a mirror. “Silly daddy, you’re right here.” She replied, with a giggle.

What did she call him?

There was no way, he’d know if he had a child, there was no way he’d have fathered a child and abandoned her or simply forgotten her, even the mere notion of that was ridiculous. But why did she call him that? And why did she have his eyes?

Was he seriously even considering this? This wasn’t possible, he’d spent countless years on Neverland, she couldn’t be his. He hadn’t even been with a woman since Milah. He just needed to find her real parents, and locate where he was. Then he could focus on finding his ship then killing the Crocodile. That was it.

He wasn’t about to have his quest sidelined by a child.

Even if that child did have his exact eyes. And was now starting at him if he was her entire world. Bloody hell.

“Daddy?” She repeated, her eyes twinkling with something akin to worry. There was no way she was his, and yet that was the only thing he could think about. Why couldn’t he remember? He’d remember if he had a child, and she clearly remembered him, suggesting they had spent some time together. Who the hell was she?

“Just who are you lass?”

The child sat back slightly on his lap, staring intently at him, like she could read into his very soul, and perhaps she could. She replied after a moment, “Hope.”

Cute, a little on the nose, but he found it suited the child, and at least he had something to call her on his temporary mission to return her to her actual parents. He wasn’t a monster, this child likely wasn’t even capable of fending for herself, he wouldn’t just leave her. He knew he probably should, but for whatever reason he was now free from Neverland, his quest could wait maybe a day at most, and it’s not like he’d be able to make any progress with this child hanging around him.

“Hope Swan-Jones.” She continued.

That was his last name.

The child has his eyes and his last name, and called him dad. There was no way this should be possible, he definitely remember having a child, but as he looked into her eyes, he knew. He couldn’t deny it any longer. She was undoubtedly his.

And that thought scared him an immeasurable amount. He was definitely not father material, that much was obvious, he’d never even thought about having children of his own. And yet here he was, in a predicament he couldn’t even remember the cause of.

He racked his mind trying to remember any fragments of memory about her, drawing a blank  every time, he couldn’t remember anything since Neverland. And now suddenly he was in a strange place with a child he knows he should remember.

Had someone messed with his memory? Pan perhaps? That was the only explanation, erased god knows how long of his life. But that left more mystery’s. Every time he’d managed to piece together one thread of information he was left drowning in more questions.

Where is he? How old is Hope? Why can’t he remember? And who the hell would have a child with Captain Hook?

“Daddy, I’m hungry can I have a snack.” The child asked after a moment, breaking him from his spiral of questions.

A snack. Right, as the child’s father it was his job to make sure she was adequately fed. He could do this. Probably.

Now, he just needed to figure out what children eat and how to procure such items in this place.

“What would you like?” He asked tentatively, she appeared to be an age where she could communicate her needs, and he hoped that she’d be able to fill him in on some of the details.

“Apple.” She replied brightly, jumping off his lap and running over to a different part of the house. This was a house right? Sure it was missing the cobbles and the beds, but this seemed to be some sort of living quarters. Not quite castle standard but definitely an upgrade from any of the houses he’d ever been in.

He stood up, his head screaming at him in the process- did that have something to do with his memories? Taking a better look at his surroundings, he noticed that this place was certainly more vibrant than any of the places he’d been before, complete with large windows with a stunning view of the sea. His gaze lingered briefly out the window just staring at the sea before he felt a tug on the corner of his jacket.

And he looked down to see Hope pulling on the corner of his - definitely not full black leather pirate coat - leather jacket perhaps? Anyhow putting that train of thought aside, his focus was on Hope as she pointed over towards what was most likely the kitchen.

She seemed to notice his confusion and was soon grabbing his hand and pulling him over. The kitchen looked much like that of his ships, so he figured it wouldn’t be too different. While he was adjusting to the new space, Hope had pulled herself up onto a chair, and was now waiting for him to do something. He just wish he knew what.

Looking over at the table he soon spotted an apple in the fruit bowl and he passed it over to her. From the amount of fruit on the table he assumed this to be some sort of luxury household, which made sense from everything else. But that left the question of: how does he fit into any of this?

Killian was a pirate, there wasn’t a pathway that he could take that would ever get him from Neverland, to a luxurious household with a little girl of his own. Was this house even his?

For all he knew they’d broken in here to steal some scraps before they’d make their way back to his ship. Where was the jolly now? Did she leave Neverland? He assumed so, he wouldn’t give up his ship for anything.

He glanced at Hope who was staring at him again. Well almost anything.

He’d trade his ship if it meant he’d got to stay with her. For whatever reason the child (his child, still far from used to that) trusted him, and he wasn’t about to make her regret that, he’d do everything in his power to protect her. He wouldn’t loose her like he’d lost so many before, he’d be better. And he’d- “Slices?”

“Pardon?” He asked, not quite catching what Hope meant.

“Slices.” She repeated, holding the apple up to him. Right, she wanted him to cut the apple into smaller pieces, he could manage that. He’d just use his hook and- where was his hook again? He hadn’t been wearing it when he woke up, and now hadn’t got a clue where to find it.

There would probably be a cutting implant of some sort around, he flicked through some of the drawers in the kitchen before stumbling across a fairly blunt knife, and then he began the search for a plate. Everything in this room would probably be easier if he knew where the hell it belonged.

Soon enough, he was able to find a plate and with a little difficulty soon was able to produce apple slices for his daughter. His daughter. 

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that. Before he’d gone to sleep he’d been on a quest for his revenge, thinking only of the memory of Milah. Now he was in a strange place, now suddenly forced into the role of father. And he had no idea what he was doing. Nor how he got here.

“Can I have dink?”

Why was everything now so complicated? He hasn’t got a clue what children drink- rum? He felt his jacket for his flask, only to turn up nothing, figures. But he did find a black metal rectangle thing, that when he looked at it, it soon light up with a picture of Hope in the arms of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He stared at the box for a moment before it faded to black. Leaving him confused as to what this magic device was. But it didn’t help him get Hope a drink.

Placing the device back in his pocket, he looked around the room for a bucket that he could use to fetch clean water from the well for her to have. When he couldn’t find it, he again turned to hope for help, “Do you know where I can find the bucket lass?”

She looked thoughtful for a second before pointing towards a dip in the kitchen counter lined with metal. He started at it for a moment before cautiously approaching it and turning the knob, and immediately water started pouring from the metal pipe into the bowl.

“Bloody magic device.” He whispered, more to himself than Hope.

“That’s not magic. That’s the tap.” Hope replied, while Killian found a cup that he’d seen earlier and filled it with water before turning the magical water machine (or what Hope called a tap) off.

Handing the glass of water to Hope, he procured one for himself. Drinking it quickly, he realised he’d probably never had such a clean drink in his life, the type reserved for nobility, not filthy pirates like him. He refilled his glass twice, drinking it in its entirety each time, he’d never had water that tasted so good.

He still had his headache, which was thankfully starting to dull now, which he’d come to the conclusion was definitely a side effect of whatever caused his memory troubles.

“Do you need anything else?” He asked Hope then, she shrugged before asking:

“Why did you think the taps were magical?” She inquired instead, her needs currently satiated for that time being.

He thought for a moment about his answer, she was probably used to the strange magic of this realm, he definitely wasn’t. “What makes you think that it wasn’t magic?” He asked, curious what her answer would be.

“Because it’s not. This is magic.” She answered, as she stared at her remaining apple slice, concentrating on it until it began to levitate slightly off of the table.

His eyes widened in shock as the empty cup he was holding clattered onto the floor.

She has magic. His daughter has magic. “How did you do that?” He asked already knowing the answer, he’d seen enough magic in his life to know  that it always came with a price, he didn’t want his daughter to be burdened with having to pay it.

“With magic,” Hope answered, “I’m not as good as mommy. But Auntie Regina’s teaching me.”

Hope’s mother had magic? Just who was she? There was no way Killian had moved on with someone else after Milah. Let alone someone with magic, magic had destroyed his life. Up until this point he’d hardly given the matter much thought, every thing since he’d woken up had been overwhelming, ridiculously so. But now thinking about it, he’d just assumed Hope was just the result of a simple dalliance, nothing more than a night. And he figured he’d stepped up when he learned about her, but then he supposed that could also mean she had a mother out there who loved her. They might not be together in this place, but Hope could still have a mother figure in her life.

Who had magic.

Was she some kind of witch? Had she conned him into sleeping with her so that she might procure an heir? If so why him? And would he truly fall for that? Still, he didn’t know. He knew nothing about this woman. She could be a princess for all he knew and he’d be none the wiser.

He needed more information. Not more questions.

“But I’m getting really good!” Hope continued, “I savid you, this mornin’”

This morning? Could that be why he can’t remember a bloody thing? Putting a pin in his questions about her mother, he was now much more interested into what happened this morning.

And why he would possibly need saving.

“Oh, what happened?”

“You were getting a box, and you fell from the ladder and went thud. I think you bumped your head. And I savid you from not waking up, with magic. Mommy told you not to go get the box from the high shelf without her.”

Piecing the information together in his mind he was able to figure out roughly what happened. He’d been getting something from a high shelf (the mystery of what exactly it was could wait) and fallen from the ladder in the process, and probably rendered himself unconscious, and Hope had saved him with magic. Which probably explained why she was so relieved to see him when he awoke.

And why he suddenly couldn’t remember anything, the fall likely messed with his memory, especially if he’d hit his head and a simple healing likely wouldn’t do the trick. Not that Hope realised that.

He couldn’t believe he’d been defeated by a simple ladder.

“Aye lass, you did a great job.” He said with a soft smile, as Hope wondered over to him, wrapping her arms around his legs, holding onto to him tightly.

“You scared me. When you didn’t wake up.” She mumbled softly, and he bent down to her level so that he might better address her.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He replied gently, a tone he was still unfamiliar with, he wasn’t used to showing actual emotion, especially not around his crew. But he knew he’d be able to let his walls down with her, especially upon seeing her teary eyed expression. Surprising himself with just how much he meant it. He wasn’t just about to leave her, he’d figure out what happened before he lost his memory, and until then he’d do everything in his power to stay with her. He wouldn’t abandon her like his father had abandoned him.

“Pwomise?”

“Aye, I Promise.”

Emma had had a rough day. She’d gotten into a mild disagreement with Killian earlier about her inability to move the damn boxes herself. She told him 50 times that she could manage but he insisted that she needed her rest. She was only 4 months pregnant, she didn’t need to be treated like a child.

She was perfectly capable of retrieving the boxes herself, she didn’t need Killian to do it for her. She remembered how overprotective he’d been when she was pregnant with Hope, but she’d forgotten just how annoying it was. And it didn’t help that David was treating her the exact same way.

Just because she was pregnant didn’t mean that she had to be confined to the station doing desk work. She could still do her job.

Which she’d spent the morning providing when she’d gone out on a case - without telling David. Sure, she was tired now (not that she’d tell Killian or David that) but it was worth it, she got to feel useful again.

Meanwhile Killian was at home with Hope. And oh god - she realised suddenly - he was going to try and get the boxes himself. She’d watched him try and do it the night before, watching in horror as the ladder wobbled and she hated to think what would happen if she hadn’t been there to stabilise it. And she made him promise he’d wait till she got back to try and get the rest of them.

But of course he’d try and do it without her to save her the trouble, damn overprotective loving husband.

She sighed to herself, a part of her hoped he’d wait, but she knew he wouldn’t, he’d do it if it meant saving her the trouble, even when it really didn’t matter.

She decided to call him, just to check in, see how things were going. At worst she’d have to head home and heal him from getting a migraine from falling off the ladder, at best she’d get to talk to her two favourite people. She really hoped for the latter.

Killian’s phone rang for longer than normal, just when she thought he wasn’t about to pick up she heard his voice. “Hello?” He sounded nervous for some reason, it wasn’t like she never called him while she was at work, but maybe he just automatically assumed something was wrong?

“Hey, everything’s fine,” She clarified quickly, “I’m just calling to check you’ll definitely leave the boxes under after I got home. I just had a bad feeling that’s all, I don’t want you getting hurt over something stupid. If you get to be worried about me, I get to be worried about you.”

“Killian?” She asked after a moment, he was quiet. Too quiet. Did something happen?

She automatically assumed the worst before his voice came hesitantly through the phone. “Aye.”

“You alright? Don’t have a migraine from falling off the ladder?” She teased, sort of. She was staring to get worried.

“Everything’s fine, I’m alright.”

“Ok.” She replied suspiciously, there was definitely something he wasn’t telling her, he sounded different in a way she couldn’t quite place.

Before she got a chance to call him on that, she heard David enter the station, and she quickly took her seat at the desk, pretending she’d been there the whole time and not on a case.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could help me, I’ve got a case.” David said, surprising her. Maybe he felt bad sticking her on desk duty all day, or maybe it was just a really easy case. Either way she was grateful to leave the station.

“Yeah.” She replied, a little bit too eagerly.

“David just got here he needs my help on a case, think you can hold on for a couple hours until I get back?” She asked, turning back to Killian, if something was up she’d return in a heartbeat. But he’d said things were fine, so things couldn’t be that bad. They didn’t lie to each other. Especially not about anything important.

“Aye love, we’ll manage.”

“Great, love you. See you at home.” She said in a rush before ending the call and rising to her feet, “So what’s the case?”

“Land dispute, over at one of the farms. Thought you’d be eager to help since you’ve been cooped up inside all day.” She felt bad lying to him about going on a case earlier, but not bad enough to admit it and head back to desk duty.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

Killian stared at the magic box thing for long after the woman’s voice disappeared. He’d first felt the device moving in his pocket, then it was accompanied by a hellish noice. When he removed the device from his pocket, there was a picture of the same woman the box had an image of earlier with the caption Emma underneath, completed with a red and green circles at the bottom. He had no idea what this was.

Showing the box to Hope she immediately tapped the green button and the box changed. Morphing the woman’s picture into a smaller circle, underneath it were some lines that moved and an array of icons at the bottom. Hope again looked at him as if he was missing something obvious, and he hesitantly spoke into the box as if it would let him talk to the woman in the picture, which was a ridiculous notion to say the least. He didn’t even know why he was attempting it but then a feminine voice flooded the room.

He realised quickly it was coming from the box. “Hey, everything’s fine, I’m just calling to check you’d definitely leave the boxes under after I got home. I just had a bad feeling that’s all, I don’t want you getting hurt. If you get to be worried about me I get to be worried about you.”

Firstly, was she trapped in the box? And secondly why was she worried? He could understand a child being worried but he really wasn’t the type of person people worried about, was this Hope’s mother? That could explain her worry, and possibly why she was in the photo on the box with Hope.

“Killian?” She asked when he didn’t reply. She knew his name, his actual name. No one called him that, not since Milah. He was surprised to say the least. The evidence that this was indeed Hope’s mother was compiling quickly.

“Aye.” He answered, not knowing what to say, he hardly knew this woman. But she clearly knew him, and it was unsettling.

“You alright? Don’t have a migraine from falling off the ladder?” She added quickly, her tone conveying her worry, even with his little knowledge about her, she was something of an open book. He wondered if she’d always been before, and in seconds he found herself with another spiral of questions, the one at the forefront being- why was she so concerned about him? That didn’t line up with his theory from earlier. Did that mean? No. It was impossible, there was no way he moved on from Milah.

He didn’t want to lie to her, that was the last thing he wanted to do. And it likely wouldn’t help, he could honestly use every hint he could find to help him remember. But Hope was still looking at him expectantly, the last thing he wanted to do was worry her unnecessary, when his missing memory’s could return on their own shortly. “Everything’s fine, I’m alright.” He replied into the box, but he made sure Hope heard him say it, he wouldn’t go back on his promise.

The woman evidently didn’t believe him, but before she got a change to call him on it, there was a noice in the background, followed by a shuffling of footsteps and then he heard voices. The woman was talking to a man, his voice was quieter and he couldn’t hear the words but he heard the woman agree to something enthusiastically.

While he didn’t know who the man was, his mind immediately went to the worst. He was the woman’s husband, and Killian was again just the escape. As much as he loved Milah, it wasn’t how he wanted things to go, he never wanted to have to share her.

To one day possibly even become her… he started down at his hand, only now realising what adorned his ring finger. A silver wedding band.

Maybe the unsolicited jealousy about a woman he couldn’t even remember was uncalled for.

Was he married… to her?

“David just got here he needs my help on a case, think you can hold on for a couple hours until I get back?” She asked, turning her attention back to him, drawing him back to the present.

“Aye love, we’ll manage.” He replied, he could figure this parenting thing out for a while longer, then and only then then he could try and work out how the hell he’d manage to land himself a wife.

“Great, love you. See you at home.”

As the box returned to darkness, he started at the place where the picture of the woman had just been. He knew she was gone, and yet he could still hear her words echoing through his mind. Love you. 

She’d said it so casually too, as if it was the norm for them.

Whatever place he’d woken up in, he had a daughter who cared for him and a wife who loved him. What a strange world indeed.

And yet somehow he knew he wasn’t dreaming, this was all real.

But if by some wicked trick this was all a dream, it would be the cruelest trick imaginable.

But he also had a feeling he was missing some other piece of the puzzle. In what world could Captain Hook be married with a daughter?

Maybe he was jumping to conclusions, but given the circumstances, the ring, and the fact she said I love you, the evidence was building up quickly. And in this strange place, he might truly have a wife.

He could scarcely believe that he’d moved on from Milah, he swore that he never would, but the evidence seemed compelling. That he’d moved on and now lived a happy life, his vengeance either forgotten or complete.

He wondered how long it took for him to move on, how long it took for him to fall for his woman? And just how long had he forgotten? How many years had he missed?

And he just hoped his wife would be able to provide some answers.

In the meantime, he just had to stay with Hope until she got back from her case, and that was something he could manage. He sat the mysterious talking box down on the counter and turned to Hope.

“Alright lass, what would you like to do?”

“Pway!” Hope shouted enthusiastically, which he had a feeling was her default volume, which he found he actually quite liked, it meant she was happy. And he knew he would never find a reason to fault her happiness. She was quickly running out of the kitchen and up a staircase, up soon had to chase her before he got lost in this maze of a house. He still didn’t know his way around this place, and knew he’d likely do better staying close to Hope.

He followed her into a room which had her name proudly written on the door in pink lettering. The room itself had blue walls, and a multitude of unrealistic sea creatures painted onto them. Hope was already looking through a chest, and as he approached he recognised it quickly as his sea chest. But upon closer inspection it’d been filled with what was likely Hope’s treasures. 

Hope gathered up a few items before turning back to him with something in her hands, it looked like some sort of brightly coloured fabric, likely a dress. “I wanna be Aurora!”She said brightly.

He hadn’t got the faintest idea who or what Aurora was. Holding out her dress for him to take, he accepted it while she worked on removing her top. Drawing attention to just how strange the clothes she was wearing were in the first place. They looked comfortable and built for movement, they were brightly coloured too, probably cost a small fortune for all the dye.

She held her arms above her head and he assumed she meant for him to place the dress onto her, he’d had little experience dressing women (much more expensive undressing them), and he’d had absolutely no experience dressing children, especially not with whatever the thing he was holding was. He was only vaguely sure it was a dress.

Hope looked to be growing impatient, while he figured out which way the dress went. But he soon found what looked to be the front, and from the looks of things the dress just went over her head. So that’s what he did, with help from Hope, he was able to get her into the dress. She twirled around the room dramatically a few times holding a flashing pick stick with a star on the end, she’d also grabbed from his chest. Before coming to a halt abruptly before him.

“Daddy dress up?” She was expecting him to suddenly change wardrobe too, honestly he likely would for her sake, if he knew where the hell this version of him kept anything.

“You could be the pirate! Like in the book, and I be Princess who saves herself!” She continued, making him curious as to what book she was referring to.

“Doesn’t the prince usually save the princess?”

“Nope, momma always saves herself. She even savid you.” He nodded in agreement, whoever Hope’s mother was, if it was indeed that stunning woman from the box earlier, she’d definitely captured his interest. A strong independent lass who saves not only herself but also him, it reminded him of Milah in a way.

“Aren’t you following?” He heard Hope call, drawing him back to the moment, where Hope had already left the room and had began calling him from down the hall.

“Aye lass.”

He had a feeling he’d follow her to the ends of the earth if he had too.

Hope darted into a room at the end of the short corridor, and he soon caught up, entering what looked like the master bedroom. The room was bigger than Hope’s and had a large bed in the centre, but what caught his attention most was the picture on the small table next to the bed. Holding the frame in this hand he stared at the picture for a moment, it was as if something had captured a moment in time and placed it in the frame.

The picture itself, had just two people, himself and the blonde woman he recognised from earlier. He honestly didn’t think he’d ever seen himself look so happy, not even when he’d been with Milah, he didn’t he ever think he’d been like that, and he was staring at the woman with… love. And she was looking right back at him, a matching expression on her face.

They’d been happy.

It felt like waking up in a strangers life, and now he felt the ache of knowing just what he was missing. He had a good life with this woman and their daughter. He just wished he knew how it happened.

A good life with a woman he loved. 

Looking back at Hope he saw her pulling on a large wardrobe door, that appeared too heavy for her to be able to manage and he quickly went to assist her. The cupboard contained a variety of leather jackets in a multitude of clothes, as he scanned through them he immediately recognised his coat at the end of them. He pulled it off of the hanger and showed it to Hope for approval, she nodded and he quickly replaced his shorter leather coat with his old one, immediately feeling much more comfortable.

“Hook?” Hope asked, and it felt strange being called that after a while of her calling him dad, he definitely preferred that monicker over his old one. “Hook.” She repeated more firmly this time, reaching out to… his stump. Oh. She was staring at it now, as if his hook was going to materialise into the end of it.

She was missing his hook.

That made more sense than her suddenly using his old monicker.

Old? He’d been content with people calling him Hook earlier, but now… he’d got a taste of his life where he was just Killian again. He didn’t think he was ready to be hook just yet.

He too had been wondering what became of his hook, assuming it was something he no longer wore because of his daughter, but the fact she seemed familiar enough with it to notice its absence surprised him. He assumed it would be in this room somewhere much like his coat, so… where would he put his hook down if he had his own house and didn’t want his child to find it?

Likely somewhere easy to reach, but not obvious enough that Hope could find it by accident. The bedside table perhaps? He noticed it had a draw attached, and it wasn’t long before he was examining the contents of said draw. There was a bunch of clutter, most of it he was unfamiliar with its use but supposed it fitted into this new life somehow.

He was about to close the draw when something caught his attention. It was a small black and white image, showing… he wasn’t sure exactly. There were a couple of white blobs on the black background, why would anyone have this in their bedside draw? He decided to call Hope over to see if she had a better idea, she scampered over quickly and looked at the picture.

“You don’t know?” She asked incredulously.

He stared back clueless about what he was supposed to reply, she obviously expected him to know and it didn’t sound like it was something he’d likely normally forget. He struggled to find the words when Hope sighed dramatically.

“It’s Evie.” She said matter of factly.

“Who?”

He must have looked as clueless as he felt because Hope soon continued, “Evie. That’s her name. I told you this already.”She continued exasperatedly, “Momma says we don’t know if she’s a girl yet. But she said I get to help name her, even if she’s a boy. But I know she’s a girl, and her names Evie. I decided.”

“Have you now?” He asked curiously, not sure what exactly she’d named but she seemed confident in her decision.

“Uh huh. Look, that’s her head, and that’s her body. You showed me after the doctors.” He stared at the picture, trying to see it as she described. He was able to see it, somewhat, but still remained completely clueless about what it was supposed to be.

A drawing? One of Hope’s? It definitely wasn’t a picture, he couldn’t think of anything that looked even remotely close to that.

Putting the drawing back into the draw he suddenly remembered there were two bedside tables, the one he was looking at now and the one he’d seen earlier with the picture on top.

Making his way around the bed, he soon opened the draw and was met with a familiar sight, his hook. The draw continued a couple other items which he glanced at briefly as he removed his hook, the most notable being a journal, but he didn’t dwell of them, instead he simply got to work attaching his brace and placing the hook on the end. “Any good lass?”

“Hooky! Now we can pway!” Hope shouted excitedly, grabbing onto his hook and leading him out of the room, before he even had a moment to process things.

“Careful that’s sharp.” He reminded her, but she seemed unfazed, clearly used to the attachment. He still felt like he needed something to make it less dangerous, like a stopper on the end to make it less pointy? To eliminate the threat of accidentally hurting her.

Hope dragged him into her room where she retrieved a particularly shiny cutlass that appeared to be dull or made out of some form of bendable material, she added a pirates hat to her costume before jumping up into her bed shouting, “I am the Captain Hope and any who disagree should walk the plank! Argh!”

Hope proved to be quite the pirate, or pirate princess given the dress, he honestly wasn’t fully sure what she was playing nor what his role within it was.

He played with her for a while, following her instructions about what he should be doing until she must have gotten bored, because she was once more starring at him impatiently. “What’s for dinner?”

He knew this would happen eventually, an apple was hardly enough substance for a growing child, but he didn’t have the knowledge of where one would acquire adequate food in this place yet. But he assumed he’d likely find some in the kitchen, that seemed like a good place to start.

Hope soon found her seat at the table again, once they were downstairs, while Killian began looking through the cupboards, this time with the mindset of finding something edible.

He’d found a couple of things that looked possibly like food, but he wasn’t sure. Then is gaze flicked over to the metal box at the side of the room, pulling the door of it. It opened with a tad more difficulty than the cupboards.

The metal box was strange, it was lined with smaller shelves and for some perplexing reason had cold air materialising out of nowhere. Was this some sort of magic? What was its purpose? He wondered if it was some form of food preservation thing, to stop it spoiling. If that was indeed the case he wished he had one of these on his ship, for the long voyages.

The box may have contained food but he wasn’t sure how much of this was actually edible. Most things were in clear boxes made of something other than glass, with labels on them in small print detailing what they were.

He just had no idea how much of this was safe for consumption, specifically Hope’s. Could children eat the same as adults? He was fairly sure Hope was past the milk stage but he wasn’t sure what they went onto after that? Normal food? Was there some bread or something that he could offer her?

“Lass is there any food you’d like to have?”

“Anything?” Hope asked her eyes wide with excitement, as a smile crept onto her face.

“Aye, anything.” He supposed with his memory’s there would have been some more limiting factors to this, and giving her the option to pick anything could result in her choosing something bad for her or something he was unable to retrieve.

“Can I have ice cream?”

Ice cream, yet another thing he’d never heard off. He checked some of the labels in the fridge, finding things that somewhat looked appealing but nothing like ice cream.

He noticed another section attached to the bottom of the box, closing the big door he opened the smaller one and felt the cold air on his face immediately. Pulling out one of the drawers he immediately found a container labeled chocolate ice cream, and after he’d closed the box back up he showed it to Hope for approval. 

She looked happy about it so he placed it in front of her. “Open?” She asked, and then he had to figure out how to get the damn thing open. There was a lid element and a base element, he just didn’t know how to separate them. He tried removing it with his hand but that didn’t work, eventually he gave up trying to remove it properly and simply pierced the top with his hook and held the base with his hand and ripped the lid off.

He returned it to Hope and she looked at him sceptically for a moment before hungry taking handfuls of it and eating it. He was almost completely sure this wasn’t supposed to be consumed in this manner nor at that rate, hell he wasn’t sure if that was even adequate food.

Hesitantly he took a sample of it onto his finger and tried it, it melted in his mouth quickly, it was sweet and had an unusual texture and taste. He was unfamiliar with the flavour, he supposed he’d eaten worse but it wasn’t something he supposed should be eaten in large amounts.

“Daddy my head hurts.” Hope said after a moment, and he realised she’d consumed a concerning amount of this ice cream. Was it the cold? Were children not supposed to eat ice cream? He hadn’t got a clue, he quickly took the ice cream away from her, which resulted in her complaining but he still returned the ice cream to its place in the cold box.

“I wanna my ice cream back.” Hope sobbed and he was caught off guard by the tears. He definitely wasn’t prepared for this, he didn’t want to give her the ice cream back but he also didn’t want to see her so upset either.

“Don’t cry starfish, we’ll erm… go out for food?” There had to be some form of establishment that sold food around here, that might have a better idea of what to feed a child on.

The idea of food seemed to appease her and she looked up at him with a bright smile, and he realised just how covered in this ice cream stuff she was. After just a few minutes of eating it she was covered in it, it was all over her face, hands and slightly on her dress.

He should probably figure out a way to get that off, before they try and leave.

The magical water thing from earlier?

He could use the tap to fill the basin with water then Hope could have a bath. That might work, he didn’t yet know how persistent ice cream was or if it would even require a bath to remove.

Still, he added the stopper to the basin and began filling it with water, the other knob served a fascinating purpose and filled it with hot water also. This place was absolutely magical.

He didn’t fill it too much to avoid the risk of overflowing, but when it was decently full at lukewarm temperature, he started getting Hope ready for her bath. He helped her out of her dress and pants, but she insisted on keeping the pirates hat. And he knew that wasn’t a battle he’d likely win.

He helped Hope into the basin, she seemed to find the idea strange at first but quickly adjusted to it. She fit snugly in the basin, but not properly. Making him realise there was probably a bath around here somewhere which would have proved better, even if he had to fill buckets at the tap here and take them to it.

He helped Hope wash off the ice cream from her face and hands, and in the process only got splashed a couple of times in the face. Hope seemed to love the water, but it wasn’t too long before he was satisfied that she was clean enough to be able to come out the bath.

They surely had towels in this place? He’d just have to find one, he wasn’t fond of leaving Hope in the basin alone. But he assumed she’d manage by herself for a few moments. He informed her of his plan before darting upstairs quickly to locate a towel. He hadn’t seen one in either of the rooms he’d been in upstairs, so decided to try another one of the rooms. The one next to Hope’s seemed to be of a similar size to hers but with a large bed in the centre, there were a couple boxes around the edge as if stuff in this room was being moved around.

He didn’t see a towel, so made his way to a different room. The room he found himself next was one of the more unfamiliar ones, but he assumed it to be the wash room. It looked to have a bath, equipped with the same taps as downstairs and a basin sort of like the one he’d left Hope in. The reminder of Hope made him hurry up slightly, spotting a towel, which he immediately grabbed. And as he went to leave the room he noticed what looked to be fancy towels hanging on the wall by the door. Two larger ones and a little pink one.

He picked up the pink one and was surprised at how soft it was, he didn’t think he’d ever felt anything that soft in his life. Upon closer examination it looked like a towel but with a place to put your arms, and an attached hood, complete with a ribbon to tie it around the waist. Bloody brilliant invention.

He brought both items with him downstairs, before freezing in place at the sight before him.

Hope had started the tap again and was playing happily, the water getting dangerously close to overflowing.

He ran to the kitchen, immediately stoping the water. And checking on Hope, who appeared to be fine and oblivious to the minor flood she’d nearly created.

After he removed the stopper, the basin began to drain the water quickly, and he helped get Hope into the fancy towel. She cooperated well, probably used to wearing such an item.

“Ups!” She shouted, probably waiting for him to lift her up onto the floor or simply hold her. He froze for a second, he didn’t know how to hold a child and he was terrified of hurting her with his hook.

He compromised by pulling a chair over and helping her climb down from the counter onto the ground, like he’d done to get her into the basin.  He used the other towel he’d brought to dry the splashes Hope and made. Then he had the challenge of trying to figure out where she’d run off too while he’d been doing that.

He heard some noise from upstairs, and assumed she was likely in her room. He followed the noise back upstairs, and retrieved her fancy towel thing from the floor as he did so, accompanied by her pirates hat that she’d finally removed. He still intended to take her out to find food and he was fairly sure clothes were still a requirement in this realm.

Hope was playing in the corner of her room with a miniature house thing and some dolls, and he gently reminded her about getting food. Before encouraging her to find something to wear.

She didn’t make much effort to get dressed so he began looking for something for her to wear. The wardrobe in this room has a variety of different clothes for her to wear but he didn’t know what her ability to dress herself was like and he didn’t trust his ability to get her into some of the garments, especially the ones that he didn’t fully understand the purpose of.

As he looked for clothes for,  her he stumbled upon what appeared to be a draw full of very tiny undergarments, and pulled out a pair for her to wear. For the actual clothes themselves he realised he would probably do best with a dress like the one earlier, and walked over to the sea chest and began searching through it.

He stumbled upon a blue dress, still unsure if it was play attire or formal attire. But assumed it would do nonetheless. Hope’s face lit up upon seeing the outfit and she soon dressed herself with a little assistance from him.

“Do my hair like Elsa!” Hope shouted when she was all dressed up.

“Who?”

“Elsa from the movie!” She continued. The what? Is that a place? Where is movie? Or why did Hope know her? Was she her friend?

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean” he replied, Hope looked thoughtful for a moment before she ran back over to the miniature house in the corner of the room and returned with a doll with light blonde hair braided over its shoulder. “This.” Hope said firmly, showing off the doll.

That he could manage. Despite appearances Killian did actually know how to braid hair, he used to have long hair himself and it was a useful skill to keep up, Milah didn’t have her hair braided often but he’d still had to do it for her on occasion.

Hope’s hair wasn’t too long, it was just below her shoulder and it was slightly damp from her bath, he knew it wouldn’t be too difficult for him to braid. He took a seat upon her bed, pleasantly surprised by how comfortable it was, and motioned for her to sit beside him. She followed his lead immediately and sat next to him, he realised quickly that he didn’t have any form of ribbon to tie the braid after, and looked around the room quickly to find one. His eyes landed on a hair brush which looked to be a good start.

He grabbed the brightly coloured thing, and was relieved to see an elastic band type thing looped around the base. He got to work braiding Hope’s hair, she held mostly still, fidgeting slightly but soon he was looping the band round her freshly braided hair.

Hope leaped up off the bed the moment he was done, and twirled around the room looking every bit like a princess.

“Ready to go?” He asked, and she nodded already rushing ahead of him downstairs.

Hope was quick at putting on her shoes, but seemed to struggle with the laces, Killian was about to help her when he realised she wasn’t wearing any socks. He didn’t want her to wind up with blisters at the end of the day, so he quickly left to go and find some. They weren’t too difficult to retrieve, being kept in the draw below her undergarments and he soon made his way back downstairs. Only now, he couldn’t see Hope.

Had she run off? Or just simply playing somewhere, he quickly scanned the kitchen and the seating area, not seeing her before suddenly… “Boo!” Hope shouted before erupting into a fit of giggles. Her little surprise had startled him slightly but he was much more relieved she was safe.

He helped her with her socks and shoe laces before figuring out what he was supposed to be wearing. There were a couple of shoes that clearly belonged to Hope, and some others that didn’t look remotely his shape. But he did see a pair of black shoes that looked like something this version of him would wear.

The shoes weren’t actually that difficult to put on, they had elastic sections meaning he was able to slip them on with ease, and then they were ready to go.

The main door, was different from the others, it had a large window on the front, but that didn’t ease his trouble with trying get it open. He figured it out after a while of messing with it, and soon he and Hope were outside, he pulled the door shut behind him and Hope took hold of his hook as they began walking down the stairs.

At first appearances this place didn’t seem too different, he was surrounded by similar houses to the one he just left, he made a mental note of the number next to the door -710-  as they proceeded down the stairs - so that he might be able to identify it easier upon their return.

He opened the gate at the end of the garden and walked through, he and Hope stayed on the footpath as they continued walking hopefully in the direction of somewhere that sold food. His coat pocket still felt heavy with dabloons, so he wasn’t worried about paying for it.

As they walked he couldn’t help but get distracted by the large metal boxes with wheels that went past them at ludicrous speeds. Likely some sort of magical transportation device, that ran without horse or wind power.

“What’s that?” He asked Hope as they passed a stationery one.

“Car.” She replied easily, they walked for a little while before the houses started morphing into shops and businesses and they passed a few people on the streets. Some people waved at him, and he awkwardly waved back, not used to things like that.

He’d come to the conclusion his attire was definitely out of place, most people here wore clothes like he’d been when he’d first woken up. But no one seemed bothered by his appearance, so they continued in peace.

“Are we going to Granny’s?” Hope asked, still holding onto his hook. He thought for a moment, he didn’t know where Hope’s grandmother lived and didn’t particularly want to spend the time to figure that out.

Nor did he particularly want to meet his wife’s mother, before her even got a chance to meet his wife.

Hope pointed to something across the path, and he could make out the name of the establishment written across the top. Granny’s diner.

So that’s what she meant.

There were more of the strange transportation boxes, in this part of town and he hated to think what would happen if they were to collide with one. So, he spent a moment waiting for a space to appear between them that he was confident that they could cross in. It wasn’t long before they were walking into Granny’s, and Hope was stealing a seat towards the back, and he joined her opposite the table.

This place was different from anywhere else he’d eaten but seemed inline with everything else on the land. Brightly lit, slightly unusual but still recognisable as what its purpose was, and made out of bright colours and strange materials.

After a brief moment, a gorgeous lass with dark hair and a tight outfit appeared to take their order. Just as he was about to open his mouth to say something flirtatious, he remembered the woman he’d spoken to earlier. He was married, even though he couldn’t remember her, he wasn’t about to betray her like that, he could make it through ordering food without attempting to charm her.

“Afternoon Hope, Killian. What can I get for you guys today?” The woman asked brightly, and Killian was surprised that she apparently knew them by name. Perhaps they frequented this establishment?

“Pancakes.” Hope answered excitedly, the woman looked over to him for confirmation, and he couldn’t help but agree. It would be a while before he got a handle on what things she could and couldn’t eat, it’d likely be best to let her lead for now.

“Aye, whatever she wants.”

“Special occasion?”

“Something like that.” He answered, and the woman nodded as if his answer explained something.

“Do you want your usual?” She asked with a smile, after she’d scribbled down Hope’s order on her notepad.

“Aye.” He answered, not knowing what his options were, and having something a version of him was used to and likely liked wasn’t a bad idea.

“Are you going to take a to go order for Emma or is it just the two of you today?” There was that name again, he’d seen it briefly earlier on the talking box, but hadn’t thought much about it. Was it his wife’s name? Emma? Emma Jones perhaps? Or was that just wishful thinking? Thinking to what Hope said earlier, about her name Swan-Jones. Did that make his wife Swan?

Emma Swan. 

He had to admit it had a nice ring to it.

“Afraid it’ll just be the two of us for now.” He replied, and she nodded. Before disappearing off to either prepare their food or take more orders, this seemed to be quite the popular place.

The food didn’t take long to arrive, and in the meantime he enjoyed a nice conversation with Hope. The meal itself was remarkably well made, there were a variety of new flavours he’d never had before and overall it was simply incredible.

Hope seemed to be enjoying her pancakes and they appeared to be a lot better for her than that ice cream stuff.

When they’d finished the meal, he left what he hoped was a sufficient amount of dabloons on the table before heading outside, the sun was beginning to set and as they began to walk, he could tell Hope was getting tired.

“Carry me.” Hope mumbled when she started dragging her feet, and he had a feeling he was the main thing keeping her upright. He was hesitant about picking her up, she seemed comfortable about it but he had his reservations especially about his hook.

But he complied nonetheless, hoisting her up, with his hand and hook and as he brought her closer she adjusted her position to fit snugly into him, he adjusted his hold on her slightly until he was satisfied that she wouldn’t fall, before beginning the walk back.

Hope had her head resting on his chest, her eyes closed, he had a feeling she would soon be asleep if she wasn’t already. “Wuv you daddy.” She whispered against his chest.

“Love you too little lass.” He replied immediately, and he found himself realising that wasn’t a lie. In just a few hours of knowing her, his heart felt more complete than it had in a long time.

He found he loved so many different things about her, from her smile, to the way her face lit up when she had ice cream, to the way she called him dad. Just how she accepted every part of him. She truly was perfect.

He never expected he’d have this.

Not in his entire life did he expect to be a father, and he couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.

He’d only known her a day but he could understand how a version of him would have given up his revenge for this. He’d give up everything if it meant he got to stay with her, he’d do better. He’d set a good example for her, he wouldn’t be the villain he’d spent countless years perfecting. For whatever reason he now had a second change and he wasn’t about to mess it up.

The walk back, was arguably easier than the one there, this time he was more used to the metal boxes and made sure to be careful when crossing their path. It helped that he had centuries of experience with navigating, and was easily able to follow the route they took.

When he reached house 710, he noticed the yellow contraption stopped outside, and assumed that meant that the mysterious Emma - possibly Swan - was back. When he reached the door it wouldn’t open, only then did he realise there was a slot for a key, that he noticeably didn’t have.

He did his best to search his coat pockets without disturbing Hope, still no key. But he did manage to find his lock pick, for most men it would have been difficult to pick a lock with just one hand, while the other held a sleeping child, for Killian it was surprisingly easy, he was well versed in lock picking, especially with only one hand.

When he entered the house, he was surprised at how light it was inside without the use of candles, or lanterns. It was as if it was daytime inside the house, whatever was lighting up the room proved far more reliable than anything he’d seen in the past.

He slipped his shoes off and continued inside, going straight for Hope’s room, just as he was about to head upstairs a light snoring sound caught his attention.

There was a blonde woman asleep on the couch. Emma. He had probably a million questions for her but knew he’d have to wait until after he’d got Hope settled before disturbing her. 

Getting Hope into bed wasn’t too difficult he slipped off her shoes and adjusted her comforter. Just as he was about to leave the room he heard a faint whisper of “Story.”

And he looked back to see Hope lying awake in bed staring at him, “Aye love, I’ll tell you a story.”

He figured this must be apart of some nightly ritual for them, and was more than happy to comply. While he initially planned to tell her a story of one of his pirating tales he saw her gaze trained on the bookshelf next to her bed, which had a few books on it, and he selected one to read to her.

The story was incredibly primitive, with only a couple words per page. And he soon finished it, but it proved to be enough to get her to fall back asleep. He tucked the book back on the shelf, before placing a quick kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight lass.”

He lingered there a moment, just watching his daughter sleep. He couldn’t believe that this was his life now, god did he wish he could remember how it happened. Remember seeing her grow up, learning about her. What she liked, disliked-

“What no kiss for your wife?” He heard her voice suddenly, she sounded different in person, but still undoubtedly the woman from the talking box. The one that said she loved him. The one he was desperately anxious to meet.

Emma Swan.

Who’d just called herself his wife.

He stood up, rising to his feet, only then did he dare and look at her and… bloody hell.

She was beautiful, with long flowing golden hair, and emerald eyes. The few pictures he’d seen hardly did her justice, she was simply stunning. He’d never seen a woman as captivating as her in his entire life, she was simply divine.

He walked over to her hesitantly not sure what he should do in this position. As he got closer he noticed how similar she looked to Hope, like she was a bigger version of Hope- or more accurately Hope was a mini version of her. This was in fact Hope’s mother. He followed her to the hallway just outside Hope’s room, and the second the door was closed, her hands were on his chest and she was kissing him.

He hadn’t kissed anyone since Milah, and he knew it’d been far too long, just as he moved to deepen the kiss, she pulled back suddenly, staring at his eyes.

“Is everything alright?”