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Milah had always known she’d die before Killian.
It was an unspoken in their relationship, so they’d pushed it to the back of their minds in favour of passion and adventure.
Killian had always been good at that: living in the present and forgetting about the future. It was what had initially drawn her to him, that and the stark difference between him and her husband.
Even still, neither of them had imagined she’d die quite so soon.
She died before they’d even talked about it, about her wishes, about what he’d do on his own.
Rumplestiltskin’s ambush had come too suddenly, and they’d barely had time for a longing glance at each other before his hand was in her chest and her heart became ash on the floor.
This was how she knew that, when she died, and her spirit stayed stuck, one foot in each world, Killian Jones was her unfinished business.
Rumplestiltskin had made his own bed, and eventually, time would catch up with him, and he’d have to lie in it, so Milah had made her peace with that.
Baelfire she’d abandoned at barely four summers old, and while that had torn her up inside at first, she’d made her choice. She’d chosen to leave him and save herself, because she knew Rumple wouldn’t be cruel to him in the same way. If Milah had stayed, she’d have resented him for keeping her trapped, and he’d have hated her for being so distant. Perhaps it made her a bad person, but she wasn’t concerned with cleansing her sins when it came to her son. He’d turned out to be just like his father anyway, and even if she had been there, she couldn’t have stopped that.
Therefore, her unfinished business had to be wrapped up in her lost love, and deep in her soul, she knew that was the case.
The expression on his face when the last breath had left her lungs stayed with her even into death.
It had been a quiet night when Milah finally used the power she’d been granted and approached Killian, the ship rocking gently against the sea’s lapping waves in the late evening air.
The lull made his soft sobs echo, bouncing off the walls of the cabin and lodging in the cavern where Milah’s heart used to reside like pieces of broken glass.
She opened her eyes, relishing the feeling of returning to what had once been her home, but the joy was snuffed out as soon as she laid eyes on her Killian.
He sat on the edge of the bed they’d once shared, his back to her, but she could still see the way the flat side of his hook was pressed against his wrist, the skin pierced just enough to produce a bead of blood against the silver.
His amputated limb must have healed relatively recently, if Milah’s estimate of how much time had passed was anywhere near accurate, but she couldn’t see it under the hook to verify her assumptions.
As a matter of fact, she couldn’t see anything but the hook. It was this weapon that had replaced the man she knew with a shadow made of grief and self-loathing, glinting threateningly at her in the candlelight.
She knew Killian, and she knew he was thinking that it was poetic, using his own aide to end his life.
“Killian?” Milah called out cautiously, stepping towards him.
The effect was immediate: he whipped around to face her, his eyes wild and rimmed with uncertainty.
“Milah?” He said her name like prayer, like he didn’t quite believe she was there.
Milah had specifically waited to do this until after he could no longer blame the pain of his missing hand for causing him to hallucinate her, but she supposed a man who drank as much as he did didn’t question the occasional hallucination (and the stench of alcohol told her he was verging on drunk, if not there already.)
“Oh, my love,” she replied, stepping forward so that her face was illuminated by the open flame on his desk. “What are you doing?”
“I miss you.” He said simply, bringing the hook back to the pressure point on his wrist.
Milah rushed to him, her stomach swirling at just how dejected he’d grown. This was all wrong. He was supposed to be grieving, yes, but not like this. Not so that she didn’t even know if she could swing this her way. “No no no, put that down. You have to stay alive, please.”
“What for? My crew keep asking what’s next, and I don’t fucking know. I don’t have a way of besting Rumplestiltskin, and even if I did, I’m not going to live long enough to see it enacted.”
“You’re Captain Jones. You always have a way.” Milah injected as much conviction as possible into her tone. If he wasn’t so out of it, she was sure he’d have seen right through her.
“Haven’t you heard? I’m Captain Hook now.” Killian raised his hook with a little dramatic flair and a dry chuckle.
At least it got it away from his wrist.
Milah studied him then, eyeliner running down his cheeks, sharp weapon constantly at his disposal, and in that blind panic, she made a snap decision that would chart the course of the rest of Killian’s life.
“Listen to me: you have to get revenge on Rumplestiltskin, for my sake. You have to stay alive long enough to kill him, or I’ll never forgive you.” There was a beat as what she’d said settled over them. Milah was horrified by her own words, but she couldn’t stop there; she had to seal the deal, or he’d move the hook right back and slash it across his wrist and it would all have been for nothing. “You still have the bean, don’t you? Use it to go to Neverland. It’ll freeze you in time whilst you plot how to finish him off.”
Milah didn’t mention that it was from Rumple she heard of Neverland’s unique abilities. (Finally, something he’d told her was of use.)
Killian gave a slow nod, but Milah could tell she hadn’t quite talked him down from it yet.
“You have to, Killian,” she urged, swallowing bile as she repeated the damning phrase. “I’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”
It was then she saw the moment he shifted to Captain Hook, revenge clouding his eyes and shutting out any trace of the kind, gentle man she knew.
Milah had given him one last challenge, one last bitter, twisted adventure, one last thing to cling onto.
“I’ll get you your revenge, love. I promise.”
Milah didn’t know if she’d done the wrong thing, playing God where it wasn’t her right, but she had to hope.
It wasn’t until she saw Emma Swan in the Underworld that she knew in her own convoluted, misguided way, she’d helped him, and she finally felt at peace.