So sorry that this chapter has been a long time coming, but my muse has had a very one-track mind with my other fic lately!
Bit of Captain Charming for you in this update.
Not sure how long the next chapter will be, but I'm hoping Muse decides to play nice!

One For The Road

Chapter Thirteen – Drowned Sorrows

Killian swore he could feel his heart shattering as he watched her walk away. The familiar ache deep in his chest that bloomed silently had kept him company for most of his three hundred plus years. And even though it was familiar, it still had the power to steal his breath, tendrils of pain making his vision hazy and his stomach clench.

She wanted to leave; he could read it in her eyes as clear as day. She wanted to go back to New York, to take Henry and Hope and return to the life she'd made for them that didn't include magic or fairytales…or him. Perhaps she hadn't meant to make that insinuation, but her words were resounding in his mind.

'I'm kinda wishing you'd never found me in New York right now, Killian.'

He couldn't bear the idea of watching her walk away again, especially now that he knew about Hope. Just a few days ago, her walls had been coming down, brick by brick, and she'd been letting him in.

Now the fortress around her heart was back firmly in place and he couldn't help but wonder if she was pushing him away now to make it easier when she walked away after the current curse was broken. And the idea that Neal's sudden reappearance had spooked her wasn't farfetched either. But he would do everything he could to change her mind, and he couldn't exactly see Regina letting Henry simply walk out of her life again.

She wasn't thinking about any of that though, he knew. Her fight or flight instinct was kicked into high gear and so many years as a lost girl had taught her running was always the safest option.

But he wasn't going to let her go again without fighting it. The helpless, powerless feeling of watching her walk out of his life last time had cut to the bone, and he sometimes still felt a wave of it wash over him whenever she walked away.

If Emma decided to go back to New York, then he would simply have to go with her. As much as the very thought of settling in that huge, bustling city terrified him more than he even cared to admit to himself, if it meant that he would see his daughter grow up and remain in Emma's life, he would commit to it without a second thought. Even if she didn't want to be with him, he'd find a way to accept that and still go, because now that he knew he had a child, nothing would keep him from being her father.

He just really hoped it wouldn't come down to that. She belonged in Storybrooke, with her family and the people who loved her. Magic was a part of her, no matter how much she fought it. He understood the crushing need to flee, to keep moving and never stay in one place long enough to set down roots. They were kindred spirits, and they understood one another. They'd both spent so much of their lives as lost, lonesome souls that it was a struggle to accept that they might actually belong somewhere.

A long sigh passed his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck wearily and turned his head, tilting his face to the sky and watching the soft sway of trees, the sun slipping slowly down behind them into a burning orange sunset. Any other time, he would have taken a moment to appreciate the splash of warm colors adorning the sky at sunset, the way he had done so many times aboard the Jolly Roger. But his mind was far too tormented with Emma's words and the possibility of losing the only happy ending he could possibly envision for them both.

"I take it you spoke to Emma."

Killian gave a start and his head snapped round to find David sat beside him on the bench. He'd been so lost in his sea of thoughts that he hadn't realized Charming had joined him.

"Aye, that I did," he grimaced, "Being back here…well, she's feeling the weight of it."

David nodded slowly and the drop of his shoulders told Killian that it wasn't just Emma who was struggling under the weight of the new curse. David looked tired. The weariness in his dull gaze and the worry that lay behind it were more than obvious to a man who had seen three centuries and his fair share of hard times.

"I think we could both use a drink."

David sighed and Killian raised an eyebrow in surprise. The Prince had certainly warmed to him after their adventures in Neverland, but he was surprised that he'd been elevated to the status of drinking companion. Choosing not to verbalize his thoughts, Killian simply nodded and the two made their way to The Rabbit Hole in companionable silence.

CS

"Rum for myself and the pirate, Damien. Thanks."

David waved the bartender over as they sat down and Killian watched absently as Damien set down two tumblers in front of them, pouring a generous measure of rum into each of them. He could feel David studying him but chose not to meet his gaze. He knew he was an open book when it came to Emma and he sure as hell didn't want her father reading the anguish he was well aware was written all over his face, etched into every line and forced smile.

"She just needs some time to readjust, Killian."

The understanding and softness in David's words made him flinch, not to mention the use of his give name. He hadn't been prepared to be comforted. He'd half-expected to be told, in no uncertain terms, that he was to protect Emma but to make sure that that was where his pursuit of her was to end.

He and Mary Margaret hadn't exactly welcomed him into the family with open arms when they'd found out about Hope. And now that Neal was back, Killian wouldn't have been all that surprised if her parents not-so-subtly nudged their daughter back in his direction. The very thought of it sent shudders of dread through him but he swallowed them down with the rum.

"She wants to go back to New York. When this is all over, I think she's planning to leave again."

Killian admitted, concentrating on the warm burn of the rum rather than the wounding sting of his words and the idea of losing Emma again. He felt David stiffen beside him and turned his head to face him slowly, the devastation on the other man's face painfully obvious.

"She…she won't do that. We're her family. She won't leave again."

David's voice was shaking and full of disbelief, his words spoken aloud as though to convince himself. Killian signalled for Damien to pour them another round when David threw back his glass and gulped it down, wincing and slamming the glass back down on the bar.

The two didn't speak for a few more rounds, comfortable in their disheartened silence and consoled by the fact that they knew they were quietly sharing in the burden of loving a lost girl so very deeply. David remembered all too well the way Emma had buckled under the weight of her parents' love when the original curse had been broken and they all remembered who they really were.

She'd been an orphan her entire life. For twenty-eight years she'd believed that her parents had discarded her, thrown her away like a useless piece of trash by the side of the road. She'd built a fortress around her resilient but broken heart and every experience in her life had reiterated to her just how little she could trust people, just how little she could believe in love.

So when she suddenly had parents who truly loved her with all their hearts, who had given her up for reasons entirely different to what she'd grown up assuming, it had been a real challenge for her to alter her entire belief system. And when she met a man who gave her every reason to trust him, who offered her his heart and soul without asking for anything in return, and who helped her to accept the power and magic inside of her…she simply didn't know how to fight her instinct to run.

Killian had flashed back to their adventure up the beanstalk so many times that the memory still somehow felt fresh. He could remember every detail of the war raging in her eyes, the way she'd trapped him and put distance between them, the fear and sadness and torment flashing behind a broken green gaze. The apology and regret in her tone when she'd said 'I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you," had ricocheted around his mind and he hadn't realized the gravity of her admission back then, blindsided by her betrayal.

I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you.

She'd known, even back then, that she could trust him. Her intuition had been overshadowed by her lack of trust in people, and the heavy realization that she was considering breaking her self-preservation rule for someone she'd just met had panicked her; sending her rearing back and bringing all her fears raging back to life.

Her walls had been so very high, but over time he'd worn them down, chipping away at each brick with silent reassurances and unwavering honesty. He'd shown her on numerous occasions that she wasn't wrong about him, and he'd willingly worked to earn her trust.

But now, once again, she was running scared. And it was going to hurt everyone she loved, as well as herself, in the long run. A part of her would always be that brokenhearted, scared little orphan, passed from one family to another and never really feeling like she belonged. She had a gypsy's heart, through no fault of her own.

David had been silent for a long while and Killian placed his hand over the tumbler of rum he was ready to throw back once more. His eyes were red and unfocused, a look Killian himself had worn more times than he cared to recall.

It was quite clear David was set on drowning his sorrows good and proper, just as Killian had been when they'd arrived at the bar. But he knew that no good would come of it in the long run. Not when they all had to be on their guard.

"Come on mate, I think we've both had more than enough. Your missus will use my hook against me if she finds out I let you get this bloody wasted."

David squinted at him and leaned forward to rest his head on the bar, eyes still blearily attempting to hold Killian's gaze.

"Did I ever tell you that she hit me with a rock when she met? A rock. She hit me with a rock."

Killian couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. He was much more adept at handling his liquor than David was, and though the alcohol had left him with a pleasant buzz, taking the edge off of the bitter sting from his exchange with Emma earlier that evening, he was still very much in control of his faculties.

The same could not be said for David.

"Well, your daughter has certainly inherited her mother's sass and tendency for violence then. She held a knife to my throat, repeatedly, when we met. And tied me to a tree. Then she shackled me in a giant's lair and left me for dead."

David grinned proudly, struggling to keep his eyes open as he lifted his head from the bar.

"That's my little girl."

He slurred, and Killian couldn't help but respond with a wry smile before standing impressively gracefully and lifting David's arm to throw it over his shoulder, hoisting him up and leading him toward the door with a wave of thanks to Damien.

"How much did I drink? Snow's going to kill us."

David's words were all running into one and he was doing his best to hold on to Killian as he staggered toward the door.

"Us? Mate, I can handle my liquor. And you're the one with a rock-wielding, pregnant wife."

"Well, Snow will kill me and Emma will kill you."

He chuckled and Killian shook his head with a half-hearted roll of his eyes. The very mention of Emma's name sent a bolt of dread running through him. He was taking David back to the loft, and she would no doubt be there too.