Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Killian stumbled up the steps to their house.

His and Emma's house.

Their home.

Killian paused, catching his balance on the door frame, swaying with the rum that circulated through his body more than blood.

"Dead men tell no tales."

He slid the blade into the man's ribs.

He watched the life leave his eyes, watched him slump against the cart.

Watched him die.

And he, himself, smiled.

Killian felt sick.

His eyes burned, his body thrummed with the effect of the alcohol and the anxiety of having to tell her—needing to tell her.

"I actually want to tell Emma the truth."

"Well," the cricket had said, proudly, "maybe it's because you are the man that Emma wants to marry."

But what if he isn't?

What if…

He lost his breath, his hand slipping on the door frame as his heart lurched.

What if she leaves him?

He caught his breath, his heart pounding.

He couldn't lose her.

Gods, he's tried so hard.

He's changed.

He's brought himself back, dragged himself back, tore himself away from the darkness.

Twice.

And now, despite all he's done to fix it, his past and the sins he'd thought he left there have come rearing back with a bloody vengeance.

Would he ever truly escape it?

Or would he always be a prisoner of his own mistakes?

"Emma… I'm a villain."

"If you're afraid of losing your happy ending, that means you found it. What is it?"

"Don't you know, Emma? It's you."

He couldn't lose her.

He couldn't lose her.

He couldn't stand to see her look at him with the hatred he saw stare back at him in the mirror.

Killian shut his eyes, the fog of the alcohol only making the thoughts and the fear worse.

He should have known that there was a limit on his happiness with Emma.

Should've known that he never deserved her after all.

Should've known that his past would come back to kill any and all hope of his future.

And the worst part…

He deserved it.

His chest physically hurt.

He deserved to be left alone.

He deserved to see her walk away from him, to see the love for him disappear from her eyes.

True Love be damned.

He deserved to lose his happy ending.

But it wasn't only Emma he was going to lose.

David.

Killian couldn't breathe.

Just last night, less than twenty-four hours ago, David had cried into his chest.

David had embraced him like Liam once had.

And David broke under the suffering of living without his father, the father who hadn't left him like he'd thought.

Suffering that Killian had caused.

David clung onto Killian like his rock, like his brother, like family.

He'd turned to Killian over the loss of his father. Killian; his father's murderer.

Killian's eyes shut, losing feeling in his legs.

David has grown to be the greatest friend that Killian has ever had—to someone that Killian trusted as much as he'd loved and trusted Liam—

And gods, he's hurt him.

He ripped David's family apart and he's hurt him.

Killian's eyes burned.

"Well, you shouldn't have goaded him into it!"

He destroyed both his brothers' lives.

Hell—

All three of them.

Killian's breath hitched, his eyes opening, nothing but torture shining through.

The urge to run was blinding.

To save Emma from him, because she deserved someone better.

But a small voice somewhere in the back of his mind whispered to him to be a man.

To be strong in a lifetime of being weak.

To do it for Emma, because he will not leave her.

He will never leave her.

He will let her leave him—a choke in his throat, a burn in his eyes—but he will never leave her.

His eyes opened, his frame trembling with fear and the clash of where his weakness met his strength, both vying terribly for control.

But he took a shuddering breath.

And he forced himself to move, opening the door, desperately wishing that it won't be the last time he walks into their home.

Killian shut the door, hand shaking.

He heard footsteps from upstairs—

Emma.

A chill shot down his spine, stopping his heart.

"There you are," said Emma, coming down the stairs. She was smiling. She was happy.

And she kissed him immediately, something soft and sweet and happy.

He shut his eyes, trying to memorize the feel of her lips.

The feel of her.

But she pulled back far too soon, and Killian opened his eyes, begging it won't be the last kiss they ever share.

"Oh, wow. Captain Morgan," said Emma, licking her lips with a teasing smile. "I thought we were switching to water."

But Killian didn't smile—couldn't smile—not in lieu of what he was going to do.

He clung onto the strength within him that was fading more and more the longer he looked at her.

"I'm afraid it wouldn't give me the courage that I need," he whispered hollowly, forcing the words out before he could stop them.

Before he could be the coward he's always truly been.

He watched her eyes shift with confusion, and fear rose sharply through him.

Emma.

Hell, he loved her so much.

Please don't let her leave me.

"Courage… for what?" asked Emma unevenly, sensing the tension surrounding him like a vapor.

He felt paralyzed, the words trying to come out, his fear clinging onto them with all his might.

He could feel the ring in his pocket.

He was nearly going to marry her.

He'd just gotten David's blessing.

His blessing.

The man who had hated him, bloody hated him when they'd met.

And who now was his closest friend.

"You're never going to get her."

"Of course, you have my blessing."

Killian had been so close.

So close.

The desire to lie, to keep it to himself, was agony.

But he couldn't handle it.

The secret was tearing him apart, he could hardly live with himself.

He needed her, he needed her to lean on and was bloody terrified that speaking the words would tear her away from him.

Because he knew for certain that if she did, if she looked at him the way he looked at himself…

He couldn't bloody handle it.

"Killian…?"

Killian looked up, seeing Emma watching him with a concerned expression. Something scared in that expression. "What is it?" she asked slowly.

Killian took a breath.

Braced himself.

And bloody prayed she'd still be here after the words left him.

"I need to tell you something," he managed unevenly, the words hoarse, like they'd been through a war and barely made it out alive. "But I'm… I'm not sure how you're going to react."

Killian suddenly wished for more rum.

But no amount of rum could erase this.

Emma's expression only became more concerned. And…

Fearful.

A familiar kind of fearful.

Age-old crumbled walls attempted to rise in her eyes. "Killian, you're scaring me," she whispered. "Y-You're not… not… breaking up with me, are you?"

Her words were hollow and quick and breathless.

And his eyes snapped to hers, quickly saying, "No! Of—of course not, never—" His eyes shut even as he heard her little exhale of relief. "But… love, I wish I could have you promise that to me."

He felt her hand take his, and his eyes opened, utterly tortured.

He felt sick.

Emma's expression was even more concerned now, but not for herself.

For him.

"Killian, what's wrong?" she whispered gently. A little smile— "I promise I'm not going anywhere. You can tell me anything."

But she doesn't know.

He bloody killed her grandfather in cold blood, and he can't stand to tell her, and can't stand to not tell her.

So he shut his eyes, dredged up the words from the sharp claws of his fear, and spoke before he lost the strength to be the man she deserved.

"I killed David's father."

Silence.

He couldn't breathe.

His chest burned.

"What?"

Emma's voice was small, hollow and… confused.

Forcing himself to repeat it, to get it out, Killian said, "Emma, I k-killed David's father. I did it. It was me. The monster your father is looking for… is me." His voice lost all strength, a hot tear burning down his cheek. He went on before she could speak— "I didn't realize until August gave me a photograph of him, and it… it came back to me, and…" His eyes shut, pain ripping through him worse than any agony he's ever suffered. "I found his father tied to a Royal Guard cart as a hostage," he went on, forcing himself to. "I wanted their gold, I k-killed the guards—" His eyes were shut, every voicing of the word kill, another stab to his chest. "His father begged me for his life, promised to keep quiet on what he saw me do—because he—he wanted… he wanted to return to his family—" Another choke in his voice, another tear down his cheek, contempt for himself trailing through him like poison. "It wasn't even as if… as if I didn't believe him," he breathed, "I didn't need to k-kill him, I just… I didn't care—" A hitched breath, his chest burned. He felt sick. "I watched him die at my own blade, the same one that I—that I've used to spar with your father—" Another tear burned, tracking a molten line of regret down his skin, and he was shaking, he was shaking so hard— "E-Emma, I'm so sorry, I'm so bloody sorry, I murdered David's father, your grandfather, I've hurt so many people, I've—I've done so many horrible things and I'm—I'm—I'm a bloody monst—"

But he was suddenly pulled into an embrace.

His words cut off, his eyes flying open as Emma pulled him tightly to her chest, wrapping her arms around him.

In shock, he stared at her, voice hitching, "E-Emma—"

"I love you."

Killian stopped breathing.

His tears froze on his face.

"What?" he breathed.

"I love you," came Emma's voice, shaky but firm, and she pulled back just to see his face, tears on her own cheeks, but her arms only grew tighter around him. "I love you, Killian. No matter who you used to be or what you did."

Another tear burned down Killian's cheek. "But—Emma, I—"

"I know," she whispered, resting her head against his shoulder again. "I know. But I meant what I said. You can tell me anything. I'm not going anywhere."

The clash of relief and utter confusion at her response just had more tears burning down his face. "Why don't you hate me?" he choked out, voice weak and hollow as shattered glass.

"Because the man who did that," she whispered, sure and strong, "was never you." She pulled back a little, his arms reluctant to let her, but he did, and she touched his face, reading every torture in his eyes. "I know you. The man you are right here… this is you." A broken smile. "That's who I love." she said, only holding him tighter. "No matter what Hook did."

He stared at her in shock, unable to process her words.

He'd expected contempt.

He'd expected to see her heart break.

He'd expected her to throw him out, to never speak to him again.

He expected her to hate him as much as he hated himself.

Another tear burned down his cheek. "I don't… Emma… David, I-I—" Another sob escaped him, hell, he was breaking, and Emma was pulling him into her arms even tighter.

"It's okay," she whispered over his shoulder. "We'll figure it out. And we'll get through it. It's okay." She hugged him tighter. "You have me. I'm not going anywhere, Killian. We'll get through this together. I love you, Killian."

And he cried, there in her arms, under the weight of everything Hook had done, everything he had done. Cried for the lives he'd taken and the lives he'd destroyed, and for his own life that had been broken enough to drive him to such darkness.

And he cried from the relief that Emma was still here. That she wasn't leaving, and that he didn't have to break alone.

Emma held him, never letting him go, whispering reassurances, whispering love. Promising him over and over that she will never leave.

He would never understand what he'd done to deserve her—what he'd done to deserve her forgiveness, her unwavering love. And he only hoped he could find a way to make this right for David, and that he wouldn't lose his best friend.

But in lieu of one of the darkest days of his life, having to tell one of his darkest secrets, Emma was a light.

She was here with him, and he didn't have to go through this alone.

Chapter Text

Killian felt a familiar fear run through him, and a familiar need for rum.

He felt Emma's fingers in his tighten.

"It's going to be okay," said Emma softly.

Killian swallowed hard, his numb body begging to disagree.

But he looked at her, seeing the sliver of doubt in her eyes, but enough courage and hope for the both of them.

He took a breath, lifting his hook to knock softly on the door to the loft.

He could do this.

He could do this.

Emma had accepted him, had loved him no less after learning the truth of what he's done, but…

Now, he had to tell David.

Emma had spent the whole night holding him tightly as they slept, like she knew that he was still terrified that she would change her mind about him overnight. Emma knew more about abandonment than anyone Killian has ever known, and she never once left his side since he's told her.

She'd offered to tell her father herself, but this was Killian's doing.

He needed to face his own consequences.

Even if the thought of it made him lose all the feeling in his body.

But without any hesitation, Emma chose to come with him, not letting him do this alone.

Killian still didn't understand how she could be so accepting of him, didn't understand how she wasn't angry with him.

How she couldn't hate him.

And it almost made him think that, one day, he might again be able to look into the mirror and meet his own eyes.

He let out a shuddering breath, where he was outside the loft with Emma, only a door separating him from David.

From a break he didn't know if his heart could take.

They heard footsteps approach the door at his knock, and Killian went rigid, his chest tight with lack of breath.

Emma's fingers tightened around his.

And the door opened, revealing David.

Killian nearly flinched.

"Hook," said David with surprise. "Emma. It's early for a visit."

Killian couldn't find his voice.

His mind was playing over every horrible way David could react.

He couldn't help flashing back to the other night.

"Yes. Of course, you have my blessing."

Killian's need for rum was blinding.

Emma looked at him concernedly, then looked at her father. "Um, is Mom home?"

"No," said David, stepping aside to let them inside, and Emma had to tug Killian in gently after her, for his legs were nearly too numb to move. "She's out with your brother on a walk. Why?" He looked at Killian, a little excitement in his eyes, lifting his brow. "Do you two… need to tell me something?"

His gaze snapped to Emma's left hand, brows falling a little when he saw it empty.

Killian felt sick.

"Um," said Emma, confused at the display, but shook it off. She looked to Killian.

Gods, this was harder than telling Emma.

"I… need to tell you something," said Killian, dredging up the courage from last night, that seemed to have buried itself even deeper within him, even harder to reach.

Emma's fingers tightened even more around his, lending him strength.

David caught the tension, and he crossed his arms, saying, "Okay. What is it?"

Killian shut his eyes.

Felt sick.

Utterly, horribly sick.

"David," he breathed, forcing himself to meet David's eyes. "The man who… who killed your father—"

David lifted a hand, expression shifting. "I've already decided that you were right. I'm not going to look into it anymore; there's no point finding the exact man who—"

"It was me."

The words were barely a whisper.

Killian's heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

David's words dried up in an instant.

He looked frozen in shock.

Then— "What?"

However similar to Emma's first response, the word wasn't spoken like Emma had said it.

It had a touch of that unhinged anger from days ago.

And it made Killian lose his breath.

But Killian forced himself to say it again. "It was me," he breathed, voice hollow, body numb. "I'm the one who… who killed your father."

His eyes burned.

And David….

Went frighteningly still.

Quickly, Killian said, words breathless, "I di-didn't realize until… until after the night you and I…" His voice broke off. "August found the page in the st-storybook, and I… I recognized him." Forcing himself to continue, he breathed, "I crossed paths with him many years ago, and I—" His voice broke. His eyes burned. "I—I killed him."

David was frozen. Slowly, trapped in shock, he breathed, "You… you did what?"

"David," whispered Killian, his name like agony in Killian's chest, "I am so bloody sorry. I—You've no idea how badly I wish I could take back what I've done. I—I have no excuse for what I—" His choked on the pain. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, voice breaking, a tear burning down his cheek. "David, I'm so sorry."

David stared at him, a million emotions rushing through his eyes. Shock. Anger. Confusion. Disbelief.

When he was quiet too long, Emma whispered, "I… I know this must be really hard to hear, Dad… but Killian… he feels awful and—"

David held up a hand, stumbling away from them. "Just… give me a second."

David braced himself a little on the kitchen island, like he was unsteady.

Killian still couldn't breathe.

David scrubbed a hand over his face, announcing roughly, "I… need some air."

Without waiting for a response, he walked out of the loft, door falling shut behind him.

And Killian felt himself grow horribly, terribly cold.

Emma had poofed them back to the house when David still hadn't returned to the loft after a half an hour, and they didn't want to explain what happened to Snow.

The rest of the day went by agonizingly, Killian feeling horribly numb.

Emma still never left his side.

It was dark outside by the time there was a knock at the door.

"I think that's Henry," said Emma softly, getting off the couch, reluctantly releasing Killian's hand to get the door.

Emma opened the door, and Killian heard a little gasp from her, and a familiar voice say, "…Hey."

Killian froze.

"Is… Hook…?" began David, and Emma rushed to say, "Yeah, he's right here."

Killian was on his feet in seconds.

Heart pounding.

David walked a few steps in, eyes slowly meeting Killian's.

Killian's breathing stopped.

David let out a long breath. Then— "I gave things a lot of… thought."

Killian's chest burned.

He braced himself for the hatred.

But he already knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

"And…" David sighed, like the words came from an eternity of reflection. Killian's chest tightened. But David gave another sigh, something that looked like a release, and he said, "It was a long time ago."

Killian, who had braced himself for a punch to the jaw or words that would hurt more, felt his brows raise. "What?" he breathed.

David let out another breath, meeting Killian's eyes easier this time. "The person you were then.. isn't who you are now. You've changed, and we've all seen the lengths you've gone to make up for the person you were. You saved Emma a million times over, you saved my ass in Neverland, all of us, really, over the years—hell, you even died for us."

Killian couldn't believe his ears.

He still couldn't convince himself to breathe.

With a lighter sigh, David finished, "You aren't the villain you once were."

Killian stared in disbelief.

"I'm not going to say it's easy to know what you did—" said David, as Killian nearly flinched. A meaningfulness slipped into David's eyes. "But a villain—the man who… who did that…" Something of a thoughtful, touched look crossed David's face. "Well, he wouldn't even have told me."

Killian's breath froze.

And out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma smile.

David winced a little at the sheer lack of color in Killian's face. "You look like hell over this, and… I know you regret it."

"More than anything," Killian breathed.

"Regina has hurt and even killed our family and people and friends," said David, a little uneasily, "and even after we accepted her despite it, and we all became family…" His brows kneaded. "She's never apologized to or regretted who she's hurt in her past once." Looking Killian in the eye, David said, "There's a difference between starting to do good instead of bad… and becoming good." A slight smile. "You're that difference, Killian."

Killian.

David took another step, standing in front of Killian, who was staring at David like he was an utter enigma. And meeting his gaze, David said heavily, "You aren't the man who killed my father. You are the man who was there for me the other night. That was you." A soft look—the same one David had given him when Killian had asked for Emma's hand. "And that man is my best friend."

Killian listened in shock.

And David smiled a little, gently clapping a hand on Killian's shoulder. "Nothing about that night… nothing I said to you that night has changed."

"Of course you have my blessing."

Killian felt utterly overwhelmed with shock.

He not only had David's forgiveness and his friendship—

But he still had his blessing to marry his daughter?

David smiled at his shock, and without hesitation, pulled Killian into an embrace.

And Killian held him back, feeling like the mirror of the two of them from the other night. A tear burned down Killian's cheek, relief rushing through him so strongly it nearly brought him to his knees.

"I'm so bloody sorry," he whispered.

"I know," said David, pulling back, smiling despite it all. Like even in the light of what he's learned about Killian, it somehow sated his search for vengeance. It somehow gave him what he'd been looking for, and the look in his eyes was something almost like exhausted relief.

Which only matched the look in Emma's eyes, tears in hers as well, watching them with her own smile.

And yet, Killian still couldn't understand how they didn't hate him.

But maybe the fact that they didn't, even after hearing that he'd committed one of the worst sins, the worst mistakes of his life, after hurting them yet still getting their forgiveness…

Then maybe…

Maybe he… did deserve forgiveness.

Maybe…

He even deserved his own.

He didn't know how to forgive himself, there was so much he's done that felt unforgivable.

But theirs gave him hope for his own.

Killian felt himself smile a little, something whole and broken at once, feeling like a weight has been lifted.

"I'll see you two tomorrow," said David, walking back to the door, giving Killian one more meaningful look before bidding a goodnight, and leaving.

Emma closed the door, smiling to Killian. "You okay?"

Killian let out a heavy breath. "Aye," he whispered, meaning it.

"You deserve his forgiveness," said Emma softly, as if reading his mind. "And mine. You know that, right?"

Killian responded with a kiss on her lips. "Emma… you have no idea what it means to have you."

Emma smiled. "Or what it means for me to have you." She brushed his hair across his forehead, saying through her smile, "Thank you for coming to me."

But heat touched his eyes, and he whispered, "Thank you for letting me."

Something warm glistened in her eyes, and she's never looked more beautiful.

"It's you and me, Killian," whispered Emma. "You'll always have me."

He touched her cheek, smiling wider. "And you me, my love."

She looked so happy.

In lieu of learning the worst thing he's ever done, he's almost never seen her look happier.

And it made him smile, with sheer relief that he still had her.

He still had her, and her family.

And it made him realize how much he truly wanted to be in it.

Without a second thought, his hand was reaching into his pocket.

"I…" he began. "I wanted to do this somewhere more… romantic," he whispered, watching confusion on Emma's face. "But… Emma, I feel I've never loved you more than I do right now."

Before she could speak, he pulled the ring from his pocket.

And he sank to one knee.

Emma let out a little gasp, eyes widening.

Killian swallowed, feeling the sudden fear that he hadn't thought this through, that he suddenly didn't know how she would react to this.

But when he saw her eyes light up even brighter, his smile widened.

"Emma Swan," he whispered softly, eyes burning for an entirely new, and entirely better reason. "Will you marry me?"

And Emma sank to her knees, smiling wider than he's ever seen, eyes clear and walls down and only joy shining through, whispering one word that warmed him more than any sun ever could:

"Yes."