Welcome to my new Cursed!Killian fic, which should end up being about 15 chapters. Just a bit of a head's up: I take some major liberties with the Jones family tree in this story. Don't worry if you get confused at first because it doesn't match up with the show. Just know that I decided to go way off-canon with Killian's genealogy. Thanks to Rumsy for the beta! Hope you guys like it!

The sea wants to kiss the golden shore
The sunlight warms your skin
All the beauty that's been lost before
Wants to find us again

I can't fight you anymore
It's you I'm fighting for
The sea throws rocks together
But time leaves us polished stones
- Ordinary Love, U2

He dropped his messenger bag on the floor as soon as he walked in the door and headed for the fridge. Another day, another dollar, another boatload of old people checking out nature in upstate New York. There were days when he hoped that perhaps this group of tourists would be supermodels from Manhattan. Those days were always disappointments.

Luckily, he had stocked the fridge up earlier in anticipation of the week that lie ahead. So with a Bud Light in one hand, his television remote in the other, and his ass firmly on the couch, he was ready to decompress. Five o'clock in the afternoon meant the Mets baseball game wouldn't be on for another two hours so basic channel surfing would have to suffice.

He could feel his gaze becoming unfocused, his beer heavy in his hand as he closed his eyes for just a few moments. Today had been a bit rough with the wind on the lake and more annoying questions than usual. If he could think about the sunrise this morning as he got the boat ready for the day, he could find some brief happiness before drifting off to ...

He awoke with a start to a knock at the door, barely saving his beer from an unfortunate death on his living room floor. He decided to just ignore it. Unfortunately, the incessant knocking came back and it was louder. Groaning, he pushed himself off the couch and dragged his tired ass to the door. Like most days, he was expecting to be alone after coming home from working for his brother. So it was pretty much a given that the person on the other side of the door was going to be quite unwelcomed.

He opened it to see a small boy standing in the doorway with a large backpack in tow, his brown hair disheveled with an innocent smile on his face. The two stared at each other in silence, the kid looking giddy with excitement and anticipation.

"What's up, lad?" he said, hoping the kid wouldn't have much to say before turning around to leave.

"Are you Killian Jones?" the kid asked eagerly.

"Aye, I am. Who are you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Henry," the kid explained. "I'm your son."

Killian laughed. "Really? Did my brother put you up to this as some kind of joke?"

"It's real," the kid said nonchalantly. "Can I come in? I just got off a bus from Maine and I'm thirsty."

He didn't wait for Killian's answer, pushing his way through the door and into the apartment, nearly knocking the beer out of its owner's hand.

"Do you have any juice?" he asked, before finding the kitchen and opening the fridge without an invitation.

Killian just stared, mouth open, at the intruder in his apartment. This had to be a joke. He wasn't really sure what was funny about the potential joke exactly - perhaps Liam could shed some light on this later when confronted about it. Or maybe the kid got him mixed up with another Killian Jones somewhere. But this kid who was currently rummaging through his fridge couldn't really be his son.

"Oi, lad, can you wait here for a minute?" Killian asked before quickly grabbing his phone without waiting for an answer.

"I found your juice!" the boy yelled back at him. "Do you have a glass or can I just drink it out of the carton?"

"Knock yourself out, lad!" he yelled as he quickly made his way to the bathroom for a little privacy. He immediately locked the door behind him and phoned his brother, but the bastard let the call go directly to voicemail.

"Brother, there is a kid standing in my kitchen drinking my orange juice and he says he's my son. I can't decide if this is a joke or not, but if you're playing me with this, I will bloody kill you! I hope you understand what 'bloody kill you' means!" He took a deep breath, lowering his voice again in hopes that the kid couldn't hear him. "OK, I have to go. Call me later and if I don't answer, it's probably because I'm taking some random eight-year-old kid to the bus station or something." He groaned, leaning his forehead on the cool tile of the bathroom wall. "Bloody kill you, mate! Call me."

Killian quickly pressed the "End call" button on his phone, took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. He apprehensively walked down the hallway, hoping this was perhaps some strange vision and maybe he drank more than he thought he had. But no, the kid was still in his kitchen, leaning up against the counter with Killian's orange juice in his hand.

"You know, I could hear you from out here," he told Killian matter-of-factly.

"Oh really?" he replied, raising a doubting eyebrow at the kid.

"Yep," Henry replied. "And I promise that this isn't a joke that Liam is playing on you."

Killian gave him a questioning look. "How do you know my brother's name? I didn't tell you his name."

"It's in the book," the kid replied cheerfully.

"What book?"

Henry smiled at him. "Don't worry. I'll answer all of your questions on the car ride back to Maine."

"Maine?" Killian asked. "I'm not driving you back to Maine."

The boy just shrugged, taking his juice over to the couch and plopping down on the brown cushions. Killian just stared at the precocious kid while his mind went into overdrive. Who has he been with eight years ago? Maybe this kid's mom was that waitress he dated in Albany or the one-night stand who was on his boat as part of some bachelorette party. Or maybe -

He quickly pushed the thought out of her out of his mind.

"Lad, you can't stay here. I'm sure whoever your parents are, they're worried about you."

Henry shrugged. "Probably not," he said. "My adoptive mom is evil and my real mom doesn't believe me."

"Doesn't believe you about what?"

The kid gave him a big smile. "Don't worry, it's all in the book."

"Again with the book, lad?"

"It's a good book!" Henry replied. "I'll tell you about it -"

"In the car ride," they said in unison.

Killian rolled his eyes. Luckily, he hadn't had much of his beer so he was perfectly sober to drive. Of course, he still didn't believe the kid's story, but at least his night had become more exciting than sitting on the couch, pants kicked off in the corner, watching the Mets lose again. And besides, Liam had told him he needed a little more excitement in his life.

"Fine," he said in resignation. "You ready to go, kid?"

"Really?" Henry jumped off the couch in excitement. "Totally!"

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Killian asked him incredulously, eliciting a confused stare from the boy. "Put the juice back in the fridge before we leave."

Henry gave him a huge smile and bounded into the kitchen while Killian headed for his bedroom. He quickly grabbed his gym bag from a corner and promptly dumped the smelly contents on the floor. He didn't know how long this road trip adventure of his was going to take so to be on the safe side, he threw in some clean clothes, sweatpants, underwear and socks. He also grabbed a nice button down shirt, thinking he may want to try and make a good second impression on Henry's mom - or a first impression if he didn't actually know who she was, which was more than likely.

Then Killian ducked into his bathroom to grab his toothbrush and hair gel. "Oi, lad!" he yelled. "Make sure you take a piss before we go. I'm not stopping until we get to wherever we're going."

"Storybrooke, Maine," Henry replied before closing the door to the bathroom.

"Right, that place," he said, throwing his toiletries into his bag and zipping it up. He carried it to the front door where he left his keys and wallet and stuffed those in the bag as well. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket - no messages from Liam - and made sure to stuff it back in his pants so he wouldn't forget it.

Henry came bouncing down the hallway soon after to pick up his backpack from the floor.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep!" the boy answered. "By the way, I should probably also tell you that you got my age wrong."

"Pardon?" Killian asked.

"When you were talking on the phone in the bathroom, I heard you get my age wrong," Henry said. "I'm actually 10."

Killian gave him a confused look before walking out and closing the door behind them. He stared at the door, trying to get his key in the lock while doing the math in his head. If the kid was 10 years old, that meant his mother was -

Killian almost dropped the keys as his mind flashed to her. He could see her adorable glasses framing her green eyes, her blonde hair spread across the back seat of the yellow Beetle they shared. Bloody hell.

"Hey, kid," Killian yelled. "What's your mum's name?"

Henry just looked out at the parking lot. "Which one is yours?" he asked.

He stared at the boy in disbelief as Henry aimlessly headed for the cars. Killian had only been in love once and vowed he would never do that again after Emma Swan left him without a word, shattering his heart into a million little pieces. And now here he was about to get in the car with a boy who believed he was her son.

Nope, scratch that, their son. Bloody hell indeed.