A Little Thing Called Fate: Chapter 3
A Once Upon a Time Fanfic
Emma feels much more sympathetic towards Jefferson now.
Obviously she still has a problem with the whole kidnapping her and Mary Margaret thing, but as she sits curled up on her couch with the curtains closed, just trying to sort through two lives' worth of memories in a single morning, she can understand how it might make her crazy.
When it’s finally time for her to pick up Henry from Josh’s house, she’s grateful for the distraction.
It seemed so simple for everyone in Storybrooke–the curse was broken and Bam they got their real lives back. But the problem is, the Emma who lives in New York, who never gave up her son, who built a little family for herself even after years and years of being told it would never happen, that Emma still feels real.
“Sooo,” Henry starts when they get home. “How was the date?”
“Oh, um, it was . . .” life-changing “good! It was good.”
This feels so wrong, for her to have the memories and not him, and as weird as it feels to have both sets of memories now, she wouldn’t want to go back to living the lie. Can she keep this from him? Should she?
“Hey, kid, do you–do you believe in magic?”
“Of course!” he says, just . . . no hesitation, and is she really going to do this?
Then he turns to her, flashing a mischievous grin that looks just like his father, and–that is a whole other thing she doesn’t know how to deal with. “And the tooth fairy, and the Easter bunny . . .”
She rolls her eyes and can’t decide if she’s disappointed or relieved. “Okay, okay.”
“So, the date?” he asks again. “You guys are back together again, right?”
“Yeah, um, actually I wanted to talk to you about that. You were right about me running because I was scared of him leaving, but I don’t want to do that anymore. So, I wanted to ask, what would you think if Killian and I decided to get more serious?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and she tenses. “Did he propose?”
She almost walks into a fire hydrant. “What? No! We’re definitely not there yet, I just meant . . .”
Henry cocks his head, looking up at her. “Like, you want him to move in?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” she admits. “But if I did, what would you think?”
“I’d be okay with it. I like Killian, and I know you always say we just need the two of us, but I think it could be nice with the three of us too.”
She smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so too.”
She never actually asks him to move in.
It starts with just offering him the couch a few times when he stays late after dinner, and she doesn’t want to keep him out too late when he gets up so early for work every morning. Then she tosses an extra toothbrush into the cup on the bathroom sink and rolls her eyes when he finds it and asks who it’s for, because any actual answer would make this too real. He doesn’t thank her, but he kisses her long and slow before heading to work, and she thinks that might be the same thing. And it’s purely for her own sake that she buys him clothes, because now that she remembers who he is, it’s ridiculous to see him in whatever he found cheapest at Goodwill, and if most of those clothes end up in her own closet, it’s just because she keeps forgetting to send them home with him.
But it’s not until a few weeks later that she learns he’s been squatting in Neal’s old apartment all this time. She digs the spare key out of her drawer that evening and asks if there’s anything he needs help moving.
Of course she knew it would change things, but she does her best not to think too much about that, so sometimes the obvious has to smack her in the face.
“Hey, kid, I have to work late today. Kaitlyn shouldn’t have class today, so I’ll text her and see if she can come over–”
“Really mom?” Henry asks.
Emma looks up from the text she’s just about to send to find Henry and Killian with matching, amused smirks. “What?”
Henry glances away from his video game to cast Killian a “can you believe her?” look, which makes Killian’s grin grow. “I believe the lad is suggesting that the two of us will be fine this evening without supervision.”
For a second, all she can do is stare as it hits her that she doesn’t need a babysitter, followed swiftly by the realization that this is what it’s supposed to be like, to have another parent for her kid. She doesn’t realize how her silence looks, though, until Killian’s face goes carefully blank, and he asks quietly, “unless you’d rather . . .”
“No,” she says quickly, and he relaxes. “No, I just . . . I’m not used to this, and I wasn’t thinking.”
“Cool, so, guy’s night?” Henry asks with a grin.
“Uh, not quite,” Emma says. “I should be home by dinner.”
“It still counts,” Henry insists. “Oh, we could watch a movie!”
“Actually, lad, I’ve another idea. One moment.” Killian tucks a bookmark into his book (it should not be so adorable that he’s a stickler for bookmarks) and leaves the room. A minute later, he comes back with a couple slips of paper and sits them on the coffee table in front of Henry.
Henry finishes his level and picks them up. “Aquarium tickets? Cool! Mom and I haven’t gone in forever!”
Emma hides her wince, knowing they’ve never actually been. “Where did you get aquarium tickets?”
“One of the other men on the docks won them in some contest or another,” Killian explains. “But one ticket is only for children thirteen years old or younger, and he doesn’t have any children, so he thought I might get better use out of them.”
Henry hops up. “Are we going right now?”
“If you’re ready lad, I don’t see why not. We might as well get as much use out of them as we can.” Henry grins and runs to his room to get his shoes and jacket.
Emma sits on the arm of the couch beside Killian. “What made your coworker think you could use the tickets?”
His eyes dart away and he scratches behind his ear. “Oh, ah . . . I might have mentioned Henry a few times in front of him.” She loves it when he gets flustered, but she doesn’t know why he looks so nervous now, like she’d be upset to hear he talks about her son to his coworkers.
“A few times, huh?” she asks, leaning closer. She tries to keep a straight face, but can’t quite hold back her grin.
“Maybe more than a few times,” he admits, grin matching her own. “Both of you, actually.” She leans over to kiss him, and he responds eagerly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her off the arm of the couch and onto his lap.
“Really, guys?” Henry complains, and they both jerk apart.
She tries to climb off Killian’s lap and nearly trips. He arches and eyebrow and flashes a wicked grin. “Need a hand there, love?”
She gives him a dry look. “Aren’t you leaving?”
He laughs, but gets up, tucking the tickets into his pocket. “Ready to go, lad?”
“Wait.” She wraps Henry up in a quick hug. “Love you.”
“Bye mom. Love you too.”
She lets go, and Killian’s arm slides around her waist, pulling her close, and her breath catches. They still haven’t talked about–
You love me.
“Goodbye, Swan.”
Her breath comes out a little too hard in relief. “Bye, Killian.” She kisses his cheek, then lets them leave.
Usually she enjoys her job, but today, every hour she’s out ticks by slowly, and she wonders if both her boys are enjoying themselves. When she finally gets home, the other two are still out. They should be back any minute, she knows, and she’s too tired to fix anything for supper, so she orders pizza, then settles onto the couch, picking up Killian’s book out of curiosity.
It’s history today, and it hits her all over again just how much he gave up for her. She remembers how lost she felt during her brief time in the Enchanted Forest, and that was when she planned to get out as quickly as possible. She hadn’t bothered to learn its history, or really anything that didn’t directly impact her.
She glances at the rest of the stack of books on the end table. Getting him a library card was one of the first things she did after her memories came back, and he’s gone every other week to find new ones and get any questions answered that she can’t help with herself. Books on finances, plumbing, geography–it’s the actions of a person who doesn’t plan to go back home, and she doesn’t know the words to tell him how much it means to her.
The knock on the door comes much sooner than she expects, and she grabs her wallet before opening the door.
It’s . . . not the pizza delivery.
“Can I help you?” she asks the dark-haired woman standing outside.
“I sure hope so, otherwise I wasted a lot of time for nothing.”
Emma opens her mouth to ask this woman who exactly she is, when her eyes catch on the star-shaped birthmark on her wrist.
“Lily?”