A Little Thing Called Fate: Chapter 8

A Once Upon a Time Fanfic

Killian knows he screwed up.

The day started so well, waking up to Emma beside him. (He should have known she’d dispute the sleeping arrangements, insisting he move Henry to the small sofa because “everyone knows 12-year-olds are made of rubber” and slipping into bed beside him, curling up in his arms.)

Then they went to her parents apartment where he clearly wasn’t welcome, and he meant to be honest, meant to tell the truth because he wants their blessing on his and Emma’s relationship. But then they asked how he escaped the curse, and he–panicked.

Because they may not remember their arrival in the Enchanted Forest, but he does. He remembers their insistence that they couldn’t get back to Emma and Henry, couldn’t even try because that could ruin the happiness they found together.

He never believed it could be so black and white, never understood their certainty that just because Regina had given them happy memories meant they still had happy lives. And when he came to New York, he learned he was right to doubt, listening to Henry’s quiet mourning of friends who never really existed cutting him off, to Emma’s angry complaints about parents who never cared for her abandoning her on the side of a road. He watched both of them, angry and in pain, missing a life they couldn’t remember.

But her parents won’t see that. They’ll learn when he came to New York, and see only his selfishness in risking their daughter and grandson’s happiness just to see them again.

So he bloody lied. Probably ruining any hope of a relationship with her parents before it even began.

“Hellooo. Earth to Killian?”

He blinks a couple times, dragging his attention from his tempestuous thoughts back to the boy across from him. “Sorry, lad. I’m a bit distracted this morning.”

Henry frowned as he took another bite of his pancakes. Thick syrup drips off his fork until he licks it clean, and Killian grimaces, wondering not for the first time, how anyone can stand to consume so much sugar at once, and for an entire meal.

“What is with you and mom anyway? You’re both acting so weird.” Henry’s eyes narrow slightly. “No one’s dying, right?”

“No, of course not.” Killian takes a sip of his coffee, hoping to buy himself some time to come up with a reasonable explanation.

Henry’s eyes widen, and he leans forward, dropping his voice. “Is mom pregnant?”

He chokes. The mug nearly falls out of his hand, but he catches it in time, managing only to drip a little onto the already sticky table. He glances around at the very full tavern, suddenly very grateful for the constant noise, which hopefully kept the lycanthropic owners from overhearing the question.

“No! No, that’s–that’s not happening,” he stammers once he finally stops coughing.

Henry leans back and takes another bite of his pancakes. “Not happening, like, never? Or not happening anytime soon?”

For a moment, Killian’s left speechless, just staring at the boy, and–this is not a conversation he’s having here. “That is a conversation for us to have with your mother.” He casts a significant look around them. “And in private."

Henry smirks. “That kinda sounds like the second one.” He stuffs another bite of his pancakes into his mouth and grins when Killian gives him a look.

Something shatters, and they both turn to look–to find the queen staring at Henry like she’s just seen a ghost.

He knew they had forgotten something.

“S–sorry,” she stammers, and he’s never heard Regina sound so uncertain. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Henry glances at Killian for a second, but her apology was clearly directed to him. “That’s okay.”

Regina all but flees the room, and Killian scrambles up to follow her, pausing just long enough to squeeze Henry’s shoulder and assure him he’ll be right back. He follows her past the large music box and into a hallway out of sight of the dining room.

“He looked right through me,” she whispers without turning around, and he hesitates, sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“Your majesty–”

She whirls around, eyes flashing. “Why are you here? Why is he here? He doesn’t even have his memories!”

Killian raised his left arm, holding up his hook in surrender as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. “But perhaps that can change shortly.”

Her eyes narrow on the small bottle he holds out to her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is a memory potion,” he explains. “Or at least, the note it came with claimed it was. The same note that instructed me to find Swan and Henry and bring them here.”

Her eyes track the potion like it’s a precious treasure, and it strikes him again that this in not the vengeance-obsessed woman he met nearly thirty years ago. “What do you want?” she snaps.

“I–what?” Something curdles in his stomach at the implication, and he clenches his jaw. “What I want is to give this to your boy. I was going to, but the note was unsigned, and Swan reminded me that we have no guarantee it is what it claims. She thought you might be able to verify that.”

Her eyes snap to his, hesitant and wary, but she takes it from him, slowly. “And where is Miss Swan?”

“She had an errand this morning. I imagine she’ll be finished shortly.”

Regina gives a sharp nod, fingers tightening around the bottle. She swallows. “Thank you.” She waves her hand and vanishes in a cloud of purple smoke.

He heads back into the dining room, where Henry has just finished his breakfast. “There you are. I was wondering when you would come back.” He looks back at where Regina left the room. “Do you know her?”

Killian swallows, hoping that, after today, he won’t have to keep secrets from him. “Aye. She hired me for a job some time ago. Now, if you’re finished . . .” He glances at the slip of paper with the price he owes left behind by Miss Lucas, and pulls out enough of the paper bills this realm uses as currency to cover it. “I thought we could go down to the docks today while your mother and Lily are busy.”

“What, to fish?”

Killian grins as he ushers the boy out of the tavern. “To sail.”

Henry frowns. “But we don’t have a boat.”

“I’m sure we’ll find one suitable.”

The boy’s eyes grow wide, and he glances around the mostly empty street. “Um, I’m pretty sure that’s stealing.”

Killian winks at him. “Then it’s a good thing I know the sheriff.”

It’s only 8 o’clock, and Emma is already sipping a second coffee.

She’s emotionally drained, and all she wants to do is curl up with Henry and Killian in their room at Granny’s and watch Netflix on her laptop. But she’s the Savior, and it seems this past year has used up all her vacation days for the next . . . ever.

“What’s up with you today?” Lily asks, speeding up to catch up with her as they head to the library.

It’s her skin feeling too tight, it’s the fact that as many places as she’s lived, she’s never come back to one, it’s everyone stopping her on the streets to talk to her like she’s still sheriff, it’s the number of people who have told her confidently that Regina cast this new curse and the way something in her gut tells her that’s wrong even if it makes sense. It’s the fact that it feels like she’s lived a lifetime since she left, and yet never left at all, and she can’t decide which scares her more.

She tugs roughly on the library handle, and nearly falls over when it stays in place, clearly locked up. She blinks at it for a second, confused, until she finds the handwritten sign that lists the hours, and finds it won’t open until after lunch. She turns on her heel and starts heading the other way.

“Seriously,” Lily calls after her. “Emma!”

“I’m getting all my childhood wishes now,” she says, trying to keep her voice light, though she’s sure she fails. Her feet speed up, as though she might be able to run away from the answer.

“What?” Lily catches her arm and tugs, forcing her to slow down as they cross the street.

“You know, all those homes, alone all the time, I wondered what it would be like to have a sibling.” She shrugs. “Guess I get to find out now.”

Lily’s hand slides off her arm, and she curses slowly. “I didn’t even think about that. You don’t think my mom . . .?”

Emma turns to give her a dry look. “Your mom is currently a ghost stuck in an underground prison. I don’t think she’s had the opportunity to meet anyone, much less–”

Lily holds up her hand, scrunching up her face. “No, stop. I don’t need to hear that.” She shakes her head. “Your mom is seriously pregnant?”

“Yeah.” A part of her is happy about it. Happy for her friend, happy for herself to finally have the sibling she dreamed of for so long. But that part of her is tangled up in so many different confusing feelings she can barely figure them out herself.

“Uh, Emma, why are we going to a pawn shop?”

Emma ignores her, pushing open the door. The bell rings as Lily follows her inside, and a feminine voice calls from the back, “I’ll be right with you!”

“That’s not it, though,” Lily says.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something else bothering you too.”

Emma watches her friend, trying to decide how much she wants to say. But . . . everyone in town loves her parents. Even Killian likes and respects them, and for just a minute, she wants to complain to someone who doesn’t.

“I talked to my parents this morning,” she explains, “and they still want me to get back together with Neal.”

Lily snorts, leaning back against the glass counter. If Gold were still alive, she’d probably tell her not to, but she has a feeling Belle won’t mind. “Let me get this straight. They want you to dump the hot pirate for the jerk who knocked you up and sent you to prison?”

And–she feels like a teenager, talking about boys and complains about her parents to a best friend they would definitely disapprove of. It’s so ridiculously normal, and she can’t help but laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Belle says as she comes in from the back. “Oh! Emma!” She drops a few things from the back onto the counter, then hurries around it. “You’re here! I didn’t think you were coming back!”

She’s not really sure what to say to that, and even less sure about the hug Belle is obviously ready to give, so she steps to the side and gestures to Lily. “Belle, this is Lily. She needs your help with finding something.”

“Oh!” Belle turns wide, excited eyes on Lily. “Is it research you’re looking for, or something in the shop?”

“Uh.” Lily looks to Emma for guidance, but Emma just grins. “Research, I guess? I need help bringing my mom back. She’s . . . kind of dead? But not all the way? I don’t know. Killian said there should be some sort of spell or something to help.”

Emma winces, realizing she probably should have told Lily not to mention Killian, but Belle doesn’t seem to notice, and it hits her she probably doesn’t know his real name. Instead, her face lights up at the prospect of research.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure we can find something. Let me just–” she turns around, grabbing the things she left on the counter and putting them into cabinets and drawers. “I’ll just lock up. Usually I work here in the mornings and wait to go to the library until after lunch, but I doubt anyone will need anything this morning.” She grabs a keyring and heads out the door, beckoning Lily and Emma to follow her out.

Emma’s phone buzzes, and she pulls it out of her pocket and sees a text from Regina. Apparently Killian gave her the memory potion.

Which . . . is good. It’s what she told him to do. Because Henry deserves to get his memories back if he can. Even if she selfishly wishes he never had to find out that their life together was false.

“Well, it seems you’re in good hands,” she calls to Lily as she tucks her phone back into her pocket. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, what?” Lily spins around to face her. “You’re just leaving me?”

Emma grins. “Yep. Have fun!”

The walk to Regina’s office is thankfully short. She doesn’t really want to spend that much time alone with her thoughts. When she walks in, she finds the little bottle of supposed memory potion sitting on the table, along with what looks like an elaborate chemistry set full of test tubes and bubbling beakers.

“Woah. Did I miss the science fair?”

Regina looks up. “Very funny, Miss Swan. I’ve already tested the potion, and verified it is a memory potion.”

Something twists in her chest, but she tries to ignore it. “So what’s all this?”

“Now,” Regina says proudly, letting a clear liquid drip into a small beaker on the table, “I’m attempting to replicate it.”

Emma frowns. “Why?”

Regina lifts an eyebrow, still keeping an eye on her experiment. “So we can get our memories back and find out who cast this second curse, obviously.”

Emma sits slowly, keeping an eye on Regina. “So you really had nothing to do with this new curse?”

Regina frowns, finally turning away from the fancy equipment and looking at her for longer than a second. “You really believe I cast it.”

It isn’t a question, and Emma isn’t ready to voice her doubts anyway. She raises an eyebrow. “Well did you?”

“No! Why would I come back to Henry when he can’t even remember me? I may have tortured other people with the last curse, but why would I torture myself?”

Emma settles back in her chair, relieved to find her lie detector didn’t catch anything. “Okay.”

Regina blinks several times, deflating slightly. “Okay?”

“Okay. I believe you.”

Regina’s frown deepens. “Even though I now have a memory potion that could bring back Henry’s memories of me?”

Emma shrugs. “My lie detector has always worked on you.”

Regina watches her for another minute, suspicious, then relaxes. “Alright then.” She turns back to her experiment, tapping on the beaker with a nail, which makes the liquid flash purple for a second. Emma’s glad she won’t be drinking that. “Now, why exactly did you want me to test the potion? Clearly it brought your memories back, so you had to know it worked.”

Emma shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “Um, I didn’t actually take the potion. There was only enough for one.”

Regina turned back to look at her, confused. “But how did you get your memories back? Nothing else can break a memory curse except–” she breaks off, and Emma winces. “No, don’t tell me it was the pirate.”

Emma looks away, resisting the urge to scratch behind her ear the way Killian always does. “Um . . .”

“But that’s not possible. True Love’s Kiss couldn’t work if you didn’t remember him.”

Emma really doesn’t want to be having this conversation, but if there’s one thing to be grateful for, it’s that she’s not having it with her parents. “Yeah, that’s why it didn’t work . . . the first time.”

She can feel Regina watching her and resists the impulse to dart out of the room before this gets more awkward. “He’s been living with us in New York for a while now.”

“How did he–no, I don’t care. What do you mean you’ve been letting him live with our son?"

Now she looks up, angry. “No, you don’t get to talk about him like that, okay? He loves Henry and had done so much for him. He’s helped him in so many ways I couldn’t.”

Regina softens, just slightly. “So you finally believe me that being a single mother isn’t easy?”

“I never doubted that.” She’s quiet for a second before she says, “I needed him. Henry and I both did.”

Regina’s lips purse, but she nods, turning back to her equipment. “I . . . never would have admitted it before, even to myself, but . . . I couldn’t have done it on my own either. Even if they hated me, the people in town always loved him, and–and I always had support, when I needed it.”

“I’m glad,” Emma says with a sad smile. “Glad he grew up with so many people who care about him.”

Regina turns, but she can still see a slight smile on her face. Then she looks down at the beaker and her smile grows. “And soon enough, he’ll remember them all.”

She picks up the beaker and makes a small toasting gesture towards Emma, before downing the entire potion.

Emma sits up straighter, watching Regina’s face, waiting for the moment her memories come back. But nothing seems to change. With a growl, Regina turns, throwing the beaker against the wall.

Emma winces as it shatters. “So either that wall did something terrible to you, or I’m guessing it didn’t work.”

Regina shakes her head. “Nothing! I don’t know what went wrong.”

“So you can’t replicate it? Maybe you just . . . made a mistake?”

“If that didn’t work, nothing will.”

Emma sinks back into her chair. “So we’re stuck with just enough potion for one person. Which means, if Henry gets his memories back . . .”

“We can’t find out who our mysterious enemy is, or what they want,” Regina finishes.

Emma stares at the little bottle. A selfish part of her is glad. If they don’t find whoever cast this second curse, everyone in town, including Henry, will be in danger. She’s sure, with that argument, Regina will agree to have someone else take the potion and get their memories back, and then Henry never has to remember she gave him up. Never has to learn the whole life he remembers is a lie.

But . . . Henry has an entire family here who loves him. An entire family he got to grow up with in a way she never did. Can she really keep that from him?

She swallows. “I might know a way we can do both.”

Next chapter coming soon!