So consider this a sequel to "Testing". This was a tough nut to crack, but hopefully I followed through. Note that despite the internal struggle and mentality there is a happy ending. I guess a tag for this could be Evolving Views of Modernity and a warning might be Frustration Trying to Get Pregnant? In lighter news, my cousin whose pregnancy woes initially inspired "Testing" did finally get pregnant!

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It made no sense to Killian that Emma should be the one taking medication and injecting herself with Gods-know what when he was the one whose virility was lacking. The pamphlets and ever-patient explanations from the doctor were only so informative.

He understood the process, mostly. The doctors would harvest several of Swan's eggs and combine them with a sample of his seed before replacing them inside Swan. Essentially ensuring that his seed well and truly reached its intended destination. As it was explained to him, the eggs needed to be of a very specific level of maturity before being used, and apparently that required Emma taking a contraceptive, of all the ridiculous things, and sticking herself with needles filled with…

Gods, what was it called?

"It's a GnRH antagonist," Emma explained, poking her abdomen with the syringe to inject herself. "It's to control my cycle, so the doctor knows when to go in and harvest the eggs."

"You seem to have a good grasp already on the frequency and duration of your monthly time, Swan." Killian had a good grasp of it too, after the last year of Emma recording notes on her woman's time. He frowned at her obvious discomfort with the needle. "Is this truly necessary?"

Emma snorted briefly in reply. "It'll be worth it for the kid that comes out on the other side of all this."

After receiving word from Dr. Laiche about the state of his virility, that he had any to speak of, Killian was over the moon for weeks. It felt as though he had a piece of his old swagger back. Even the Prince had noticed, and asked about Killian's uptick in mood.

"Oh, it's nothing, just…" Killian scrambled for an answer, not wanting to admit that he had needed such a doctor or test in the first place. "Emma's told me my car driving is much improved."

"Uh-huh." David hardly looked convinced, but let it be.

That conversation, and the initial visit to Dr. Laiche, had been several years earlier.

Since then, a number of crises and villains had arisen in Storybrooke, as they were wont to do, and any notions of growing their family had to be tabled. Not to mention Emma simply had no desire for more children just yet. Which was perfectly fine with Killian, given the numerous other young children in town for them to fuss over when required.

It wasn't until Henry was nearly grown and ready to set out on his own journey that Emma cautiously brought up the idea of parenthood in such a way that made Killian think she had been contemplating the notion for an extensive amount of time. And perhaps over-thinking how best to bring up the subject.

"Truly, Swan?" He asked when she did, breath catching in his throat.

Emma resolutely refused to move her eyes from the television or her head off of his shoulder as they lounged on the sofa, perfectly content to remain curled around him as though it were any other night and not a night to potentially alter their futures. "I just think now's a good time and it's not like we don't have options for babysitters or help or- If it's still something you want! Obviously! But I just thought… Maybe…"

"Emma." Killian tipped a finger under her chin so she could see the joy and hope in his face. "Truly? You still want that too?"

His uncontained glee loosened the tension in her shoulders as she faced him. "Yeah. I know I want another kid, and I know I want to raise that kid with you." Her voice tremored in simultaneous surety and nervousness. "It'll be different this time. Actually trying for a kid instead of it just happening."

Killian dropped his voice to that low baritone he knew made Emma's breath quicken. "Oh, you'll find I'm very willing to try, love." His hand shifted from her chin to curl around the back of her head, drawing her close for a heated kiss.

They didn't make it off the couch before having their way with each other. With Emma on her front and his hips pressing her into the cushions from behind, his one hand was free to curl around her stomach, imagining what it would feel like swollen with their child. Not long after they found release, Killian carried Emma to bed and spent the rest of the night with his hand laced through hers, both hovering over her stomach.

The condoms and birth control disappeared from the house after that and Killian was fairly certain he and Emma hadn't been so sexually active since their honeymoon. There wasn't a flat surface in the house, sheriff station, or Jolly Roger that hadn't been utilized, to Killian's delight.

But as weeks dragged on into months and Henry left for his own adventure, the frustration started weighing on them.

"Why is it so hard this time?" Emma complained. "I wasn't even trying with Henry. That just happened. I know I'm not a teenager now, but still." She sighed, dejected. "Maybe it's a good thing we never told anyone we were trying."

Killian knew he was to blame for their current failure, and knew that Emma was aware of his failings too. The doctor had said the chances of him and Emma conceiving were slim given the lackluster nature of his seed, but a large part of him had hoped that trying to conceive with Emma would be different. True Love and actual intention had to count for something in this, didn't it? Should they not be able to create their own happiness? Alas, even True Love couldn't make up for his failings. It was his fault that once again Emma was being denied something she longed for. And where Emma's happiness was concerned, Killian Jones was not one to let things lie.

"What of the treatments Dr. Laiche suggested before? The IFVF, or IF- The fertility ones? Could those help?" Killian suggested.

Emma bit her lip. "Fertility testing is one thing. But actual fertility treatment is… It's really expensive and I'm just worried it might be more modern-ness than you're ok with."

"As your mother is so fond of telling her students, love, there's no harm in trying."

But Emma wasn't convinced. "It's not fertility treatments like you're probably used to though. There's no magic potion or herbal tea or spell to cast, if that's what you were thinking."

He frowned. That was, more or less, precisely what he envisioned. But to bring a smile back to his Swan's face, he would not be deterred. "Piracy was very good for my fortunes, love. And there's no reason we can't simply learn more about these treatments. Let's meet with Dr. Laiche. See what she has to say on the subject."

As they sat with Dr. Laiche later that week though, Killian started having second thoughts. Not about having children, never that, or even the money, but about the details of the fertility treatments this realm had to offer. Something about the system of it all left him feeling decidedly extraneous.

But Dr. Laiche was pragmatic about the entire affair and Emma was increasingly besotted with the notion of such a near-certain pregnancy. Her earlier hesitation all but vanished.

"So given both of your ages and what we know about yours and the Captain's fertilities, IVF would be a very promising way to go," Dr. Laiche finished.

Emma looked to Killian, a question in her eyes.

"I'm willing to try, love," He said, curling his hand around hers in reassurance he didn't entirely feel himself.

What followed after that were schedules for even more appointments. Slips of paper called 'prescriptions' for special drugs with accompanying needles and instructions for Emma on how to use them. Guides on what to eat and not eat or drink for best results. What activities were and were not allowed. The sheer length of the list was maddening and Killian was half sure that some new restriction was magically added to it every day.

Thankfully sex was still allowed, even if it did mean using condoms again. Given the procedural and restrictive nature of the entire process Killian was grateful for the release of continued intimacy, and he made a point of making love to Emma every chance possible.

One night as they lay in bed, sheathed in Emma's still quivering warmth, Killian moved to toss the condom and reach for a towel for them, but Emma pulled him close instead and refused to let go.

"Swan?"

She was trembling slightly and held tighter. "Thank you," She said.

Killian smirked. "Why Swan, my talents are at your disposal. No need for thanks when I give them to you freely."

He felt Emma smile against his skin, even as she shook her head. "I know all of this, the IVF, it's a lot to take in. And the whole 'trying-for-a-kid' thing… I just want you to know how glad I am you're here."

Killian stopped breathing. Gods, he'd been so selfish. Why should he worry about the 'how' of conceiving a potential child when Emma had been alone for the entirety of her first pregnancy? Having this child was their choice, something they both wanted badly enough to resort to such malevolent means for its conception. Should it honestly matter how the child was created if the end result was going to be the same?

Yes. In Killian's mind it still mattered very much. But what mattered more was that he and Emma wanted to have a child together, so he pushed his concerns aside. The ends justified the means, and he was well-acquainted with doing whatever was necessary to achieve his goals. He had done so plenty during his quest for vengeance against the Crocodile and his hunt for the Dark One's dagger all those years.

Killian was still more than uncertain about the entire procedure but was loathe to admit any of that to Emma, who was still enamored with the process, aches and pains and all. So instead he wrapped his arms tighter around her, kissed the top of her head, and said the only thing that he was sure of.

"I love you," He repeated the words, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

If the procedure was required to have a family with Emma, then he would do it. Perhaps he would warm up to the idea?

The second set of injections two weeks later, those that the doctor claimed were meant to stimulate the ovaries, left Emma aching and bedridden for several evenings, and Killian feeling guilty for even considering the notion that the IVF process would be worth pursuing.

"I hate to say it, but we might need to tell your parents about this, eventually," Killian said after hanging up the talking phone. At Emma's request, and to his relief, he had called David to ask the man to watch the Sheriff's station while Emma recovered from 'a stomach bug'. "I hate seeing you hurt like this, Swan."

"It's just like bad PMS, exactly like the doctor warned us," Emma tried to reassure him and herself. She added in mumbled annoyance, "Just really, really bad PMS."

Killian made a mental note to pick up a large order of fried onions from Granny's, and perhaps even one of those decadent chocolate mini cakes, sodding nutrition lists be damned. In the meantime, he ignored Emma's objections as he filled another ice-water bag for her cramps, dimmed the lights to help with her headache, and turned on the television to that strange comedy he didn't understand at all but knew she loved.

"Killian, you don't have to-"

"I insist, Swan." She smiled through a grimace in return.

Those injections were Killian's first real introduction to ultrasound imaging and estrogen testing. Precisely what sound had to with images was beyond Killian, particularly when those images were grainy and looked fairly useless. The images weren't dissimilar to an undersea cave, with curved grey walls and circles of darkness between them. Emma seemed to be just as confused as him when the technician showed them the strange pictures.

"At least with Henry's ultrasounds there was a baby to look at, sort of," Emma said during the appointment. "That's literally a bunch of blank spots."

"But look how many there are!" The technician exclaimed. "Each of those blank spots is a follicle, and when they get bigger, then they're more mature."

"So all the needles are actually doing something helpful?" Emma asked, less skeptical.

"Yep. And your estradiol levels are within normal range too. You're in good shape so far!"

Killian frowned at the image. Those black spots were supposed to be the thing the doctors removed, what his seed would be joined to before being implanted inside Emma. It was difficult to envision a child growing in such an abyss, and the continued procedural approach to creating life did nothing to ease Killian's discomfort with the process.

For as much as he and Emma tried to keep their use of the fertility procedures mum, he knew that his growing discomfort was bleeding into their day-to-day life and he worried that the cat would soon be out of the proverbial bag on their privacy at any moment. Killian did his best to disguise his worry with further busy-ness, but mostly just succeeded in coming across as what Emma's mother called an 'eager-beaver'.

He didn't dislike beavers, per se. They could be rather industrious, if not a tad overzealous in their dam constructions. But he still didn't particularly appreciate being compared to one. It wasn't nearly dashing enough of an animal to be a fair comparison.

He said as much to Emma and her father several days later at Granny's diner, and was met with far too much laughter from both of them to be at all well-meant.

"You're not wrong about another animal being a better fit," Emma said, recovering from her laughter. "I bet you'd be a great peacock. All that preening and those feathers standing on end."

Being in the presence of Emma's father, Killian bit his tongue on an obvious joke about peacocks and "feathers" standing on end. He settled instead for smirking and putting an arm around Emma's shoulder.

David shook his head in disagreement. "I think Snow's right about the beaver thing. You're industrious. You like handling things yourself. Taking care of business."

Emma groaned. "You had to say it."

Killian frowned. "Say what, love?"

"Taking care of business. It's this song from- Never mind; I won't subject you to it."

David tried to defend himself. "It's not wrong! I mean it in the nicest way possible. Killian's a real eager-beaver."

At that moment Killian turned his head just enough to spy one of the waitresses placing their order on a tray, ready to bring to them, and jumped out of the booth. "I've got it, Swan."

"A weirdly eager-beaver," David muttered oddly as he left. Killian was already halfway to the counter.

When Killian returned, meals in hook and hand, it was to Emma looking at her phone with tight lips. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that it was time for another injection, and felt himself grow tense as well.

Emma slid out of the booth. "I'll be right back. You guys start without me while it's hot."

David shot his daughter a confused look. "You ok?"

She waved him aside, trying to slide her purse nonchalantly into her arm. "I'm just gonna run to the bathroom real quick. Seriously, you two should eat."

Killian leaned in, hand running along her arm in a sudden need to touch her and be grounded. "Perhaps I ought to go with you Swan. The better to…" Killian paused for effect, hoping David would think he was being lascivious rather than tense and concerned. "…Assist you."

"I'm right here," David deadpanned.

"Easy tiger," Emma smiled at him, warming him from without. She leaned in close to whisper, "Maybe later if the sticks aren't too much of a pain."

Killian forced a smile, and touched her arm again in comfort. Comfort for her or for himself though, he wasn't entirely certain.

"Is something going on?" David asked him after Emma left and Killian sat back down in the booth with their food, doling it out on the table. "You're being really doting."

"Doting? I thought I was a beaver?"

The Prince shrugged, as if he were equally unsure just why he'd used that particular word. "I mean, Emma's always saying how great you are about remembering little things and just being around." Killian tried his best not to preen at that, truly. From the look on David's face though, he'd undoubtedly failed. "But the jumpiness and busy-ness and stuff? It feels like, I don't know, more than usual? Too-much more. You know what I mean?"

"Not particularly, mate," Killian bristled. This was all edging a tad too close to personal territory, and Killian had no desire to share such personal-ness with his father-in-law.

"Is there something going on? Anything I can help with-?"

"It's nothing I can't handle myself," Killian snapped, more harshly than he'd meant to. David visibly flinched and Killian immediately felt guilt begin gnawing at his stomach. Thankfully, Emma soon returned, removing her jacket and commenting mildly on the over-active radiator and how hot the bathroom was.

Killian quietly poured her some more ice water, and the three ate their meals in relative peace. Emma remained fairly oblivious to her father's confused looks at Killian, and Killian resolutely looked anywhere but in David's direction.

Killian meant to apologize later, but honestly he was so tightly wound nowadays that the thought couldn't even take hold in his mind.

It didn't help that the next several weeks were a clinical blur of further imaging appointments, injections, and testing that left very little room for anything not on the schedule. Nor did it help that Killian had obsessively memorized said schedule and knew exactly what was coming. He had even started a countdown to what Emma jokingly called Pay-the-Rent Day and he silently referred to as The Judgement.

Thirty hours after a final injection of some new acronym-named drug Killian had already put out of his mind, he and Emma drove to the clinic for the make-or-break portion of the entire affair.

Emma picked up on his growing nerves as they walked into the clinic, taking hold of his hook and pulling him to a stop. "Killian, talk to me. What's got you so wound up?"

He worried for a moment, then said, "They put you to sleep for this Swan."

"Just while they get the eggs," She tried to reassure him. "I'm more worried about you."

The sample of his seed. Truth be told he was glad to be able to play his part at long last, even if it wasn't quite what he'd envisioned. "I'll be fine, love." He added, purposefully salacious as he looked her up and down, "Nothing I can't handle given the siren in front of me."

Emma's face remained stubbornly set though. "I know when you're trying to be distracting."

"And you know when to push through it." He sighed, nodding. "Truly, I'll be all right. Now remind me what the doctor said you'd need after the procedure."

True to his word, providing a sample of his seed was no problem. Giving that sample over to the doctors, however, was a struggle. Killian asked if he could personally bring the sample down to the lab, rather than hand it over to the clinic worker. The young man assigned to handle the sample had chuckled with what Killian assumed was a gesture meant to ease worries.

"Never fear," The young man had said, taking the sample from Killian. "Your future is in safe hands."

It didn't help. And Killian made sure to watch the clinic worker pass through a set of doors at the end of the hall before finally going to Emma's room.

Waiting for Emma to wake up was nerve-wracking despite all his pamphlet reading and being reassured over and over by the doctors and nurses that she was perfectly fine and everything had gone 'like clockwork' and there was really no need to fret too much. It didn't stop him from car-driving at doldrums' pace when they were finally released to go home. With Swan only mostly lucid in the passenger's seat, Killian took care not to jostle her in the slightest as they traveled over every bump and pothole in the road. But as the car shuddered over the final dip between road and driveway, causing Emma to groan barely at the movement, Killian silently cursed Regina for not using her authority or her magic to fix the uneven pavement in the street.

He wasn't entirely certain road maintenance fell under the woman's dominion in the first place. He just needed to be annoyed at something tangible. After ensuring Emma was safely cocooned in a nest of blankets on the sofa with all the required amenities, Killian found he needed something to Do as well. Something to occupy his hand and mind.

He resorted to spending the rest of the afternoon and next day researching, acquiring supplies for, and completing the leveling of the pavement dip in front of their home.

Killian spent the next four days occupying himself with similar tasks, cleaning the house top to bottom, running mundane errands around town, and finally on the fourth day running interference when the In-Laws dropped by because little Neal wanted to play with his sister.

It was, perhaps, the flimsiest excuse Killian had ever heard from the Charming's, who were clearly just hoping to look in on the daughter they hadn't heard from in several days. The excuse was second only to the one Killian provided when he told the lad and his parents that Emma couldn't come out to play because she had a 'gut insect'.

"Like a parasite?" Mary Margaret questioned on the front step, then thought about it a moment. "Oh! You mean a stomach bug!"

"She's ill, but not contagious," Killian corrected himself.

He likely wasn't as persuasive as he could have been, because David hardly looked convinced. "Another stomach bug? She's been getting a lot of those. Didn't she have one last month? Or maybe the month before?"

"David!" Mary Margaret gently swatted her husband's arm as her face lit up in new understanding. "It might not be a stomach bug. It might a… 'Monthly Stomach Bug'," She said with meaning.

Thank the gods for Mary Margaret. Killian could have kissed her just then. He just prayed the relief didn't show too clearly on his face.

David's eyes widened slightly in equal understanding and an apology spread over his features. Killian waved him off before he could even verbalize it.

"She'll be right as rain in a few days," Killian assured them. "In the meantime, I'm more than happy to take the lad for a sword-fighting lesson in the park. Gods know he could use a good teacher."

Predictably, David bristled and took the bait. "A good-! We'll see about that. Neal, come on! Let's teach this pirate a few things about actual sword technique."

The remainder of the afternoon was spent with sticks, encouraging the young prince's sword form and correcting his fathers, to the amusement of several other on-lookers at the park. It was too easy to imagine Neal's sandy blonde locks as his own darkened hair and to insert Emma dazzling green eyes in his mind. It was even easier to envision this very moment of practicing sword play with a little one of his and Emma's own on the deck of the Jolly Roger.

He'd never had such moments in his past, but Gods above, did he want them in his future. Wanted them with such a ferocity it left a throbbing ache inside of him.

It drove home the refrain of the entire affair for Killian. That the ends would justify the means, and that the fertility treatments of this world would be worth everything when he and Emma had a little one they could teach swordplay and how to sail and maybe pick locks.

The next day, he and Swan drove back to the fertility clinic at a decidedly brisker pace to learn the doctor's findings.

"Of the retrieved eggs, four of them were successfully fertilized and are viable embryos. So we can go ahead and schedule an embryo transfer for the next day or two," Dr. Laiche told them, as chipper and nonchalant as always.

"We only need one, aye? So what of those that aren't transferred?" Killian wondered. "What happens to them?"

"We can freeze them, if you want?" Dr. Laiche offered. "They're in good enough condition and if the IVF doesn't take this time around you'll have the option of using those embryos in a second shot."

If it didn't work? The thought of such a tragedy hadn't even registered in Killian's thoughts. He'd forgotten it was even a possibility to have to go through this all again.

Killian glanced at Emma. "Sure?" He asked, not wanting to test fate by throwing all their eggs into one basket.

Emma nodded in agreement. "Sure."

Appointment made for the next day and extra embryos safely frozen to hopefully never need using, Killian and Emma made their way home.

For all that the implantation itself was the Piece de Resistance of the entire affair, it just felt like more routine at that point. Simply another appointment to be kept in their months-long schedule of appointments and meetings with the clinic.

And yet, in less than a day he and Emma would begin the next stage of this journey. In another two weeks, they would find out if everything they had been trying for had born fruit. Nothing about it felt truly monumental or life-changing though, and Killian tried to instill at least a mental sense of the appropriate gravitas the next morning as he and Emma piled into the yellow bug and made their way to the clinic, but it still felt distant. Detached. Elsewhere, even.

The procedure was over before Killian realized it had even started. The doctor must have said something at some point, but the slender tube containing their child entered and exited Swan so quickly that Killian was sure steps had been skipped over.

"So we'll see you both in ten days for testing and we'll know if the implantation was successful." Dr. Laiche said.

"With the blood test, right?" Emma asked.

Killian's attention was pulled to her at the mention. "Blood? I thought you were meant to use the stick?"

"The stick?"

"Aye, the uh… The one you…" Killian struggled for a less crass way of phrasing it. "The one you urinate on."

Emma stifled a giggle at that, tucking her latest prescription paper in her pocket and winding her arm through his. "Oh, no, I don't need to use- We'd need to wait a few more weeks if we wanted to use that kind of pregnancy test. The doctors are gonna look at my bloodwork. It's a lot faster."

"And that will tell us whether the treatment worked?"

"Positive or negative, that's right," Dr. Laiche said. "If the bloodwork is positive, then Emma is pregnant and you're getting an addition to the family. If it's negative… Then there's nothing there."

"Positive is plus, negative is nothing," Killian paraphrased. Before he knew it, he and Emma were leaving the clinic and walking back to the bug to continue their day as though nothing of great import had just occurred.

That couldn't have been it, could it? Months of hurt and appointments and drugs and mental fatigue for a few moments in a chair?

That night he and Emma lounged on the sofa, with Emma using his lap as pillow. Neither of them paid much attention to the television in the background, too preoccupied with their thoughts.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" Emma asked, fingers dancing over her flat stomach.

"I want a healthy child," Killian answered. "And for you to be healthy and whole through the lot of it."

Emma's eyes moved to his, holding his gaze steady in hers. Understanding passed over them and she silently took his hand in hers and laced it with hers over her stomach. "Me too," She said.

As they sat in the doctor's office what felt like an eternity and yet only weeks later, fingers laced together between them, Killian was suddenly too aware of his surroundings. The clock on the wall ticked too loudly, his fidgeting feet on the carpeted floor managed to be their own distraction, and he was entirely sure his heartbeat had never pounded so harshly in his ears. It only served to frustrate him the longer they waited for the doctor. What was taking the woman so bloody long anyway?

This could very well be it, after all. This could be the moment their lives changed and for some shameful reason he wasn't as excited about it as he knew he wanted to be. He wanted this, the chance to raise a child with Emma. Why the bloody hell wasn't he feeling the right feelings?

The door opened, yanking Killian from his guilt and causing Emma to flinch at the arrival. "Sorry for the wait," Dr. Laiche apologized, hurrying toward her desk with a thin collection of papers. How could such significant news be reduced to so slim a file?

The doctor flipped the pages, front and back and back and front on the desk, fingers skimming the lines of text and eyes zooming in search of the answer. Killian saw the instant Dr. Laiche's fingers reached the appropriate line of text and the instant her mind registered the consequences.

"The bloodwork came back negative. I'm very sorry," Dr. Laiche said.

Positive was a plus, negative was nothing, Killian recalled, suddenly sapped of energy at the doctor's words.

"Swan?" He prodded at Emma's continued silence.

"Negative," She said, hollow. Killian wordlessly took Emma's limp form into his arms, holding her close.

"First treatments don't always succeed, but luckily, every treatment hereafter, should you choose to try again, has a greater chance of success. And you did opt to have several of the eggs frozen," The doctor added. "You don't have to decide anything right now. I know this can't be easy for either of you. Take some time to yourselves, think it over, and let me know whatever you decide to do."

Time passed unheeded as they made their way out of the clinic and toward the car. Emma was silent the entire ride home, the life pulled from her. Killian knew he wasn't in much better shape, even as his thoughts raced and his heart pulled at him achingly.

He couldn't explain the feelings that finally washed over him. He was saddened by the loss of something that hadn't come to fruition. But he was relieved that maybe he could have another chance to father the child himself rather than rely on the clearly lacking modernity that had caused Emma such frustration and pain and heartache. Such thoughts were immediately followed by shame, for finding any relief in something that Emma was so affected by.

Once they arrived at the house, Killian kept his arm around her as they entered their warm home.

"Swan? I'll run a bath for you."

"I can do it," Emma said.

"Then perhaps some tea while you-"

"No," She interrupted. "I kind of want to be alone for a bit." With that, she shrugged his arm off and dragged herself up the stairs to the bathroom. Killian stood in the front hall, feeling cold and particularly useless in the empty space, until he heard the groaning of water pipes being opened to fill the tub. He only walked back out the front door when he heard the pipes stop.

Killian's feet dragged him to the entrance of The Rabbit Hole, only to stop short and walk away. Instead, he headed toward the docks and sat on a bench in front of the Jolly Roger, staring at nothing. The water babbled against the docks while the salt air and sea gulls passed him by. The sun had just begun its daily descent when he and Emma left the doctor's office, and now he sat long enough for the stars to glitter mostly unopposed amid the last remnants of the sunset. He managed to lift his head enough to notice how the mixture of light illuminated the deck of the Jolly Roger when David happened to walk by and said hello.

Killian's reply was half-hearted at best.

David took a longer look at him. "You ok?"

Killian tried to shrug him aside. "Just one of those nights."

"Are you sure you're ok? You and Emma have both been kind of out of it lately," David's obvious concern shot straight into Killian, loosening his tongue more easily than the most potent liqueur.

If ever there was a time to share… "Emma and I have been trying to conceive a child. Trying, being the operative word, because we've been trying for some time and still not… It's been over a year and we thought this time would be different."

Whatever thoughts the Prince had concerning the details of his daughter and Killian 'trying' for a child, he thoughtfully kept to himself. Instead, he murmured a condolence and clapped a hand on Killian's shoulder, joining him on the bench.

They were both quiet for several moments before David dared to ask, "Do you think you'll keep trying?"

Killian shook his head. "I don't know. I'm so bloody tired, mate. We both are. And after this last attempt with the clinic and their 'treatments' I'm not sure I want to. Or if it's even in the cards for us after all."

"The fertility clinic?"

Killian tensed. He hadn't meant for that to slip.

He could see David's thoughts whirring, contemplating just why they would need to visit such a doctor if they were trying for a family. Fear gripped him as he awaited the inevitable scorn.

But David only nodded in vague understanding. "I guess, yeah, Emma's in her thirties. It's probably not as easy getting pregnant."

A small part of Killian was relieved that he'd been spared from questions of his virility. The rest bristled at Emma being implicated in his own failure to sire. "It's me. Not Emma. I'm the reason we had to resort to such means," Killian admitted. At David's confusion he added, shamefully, "We got- I got tested some time ago and, as I understand it, there aren't enough fit soldiers to take the castle. Perhaps there never have been."

"But if you and Emma have been able to try for a kid at all then that means there's still a chance, right?"

"An increasingly slim one," He said, bitter.

"Sometimes that's all you need. Just a sliver of a chance. A little bit of hope."

Killian snorted at that. "You sound like your wife, mate."

David smiled and shrugged. "She's usually right about hope."

"Hope I can understand. It's a sort of magic and I'm well-acquainted with that. But the so-called 'treatments', with Emma needing to jab those needles into her and the procedures and appointments and all of it for naught."

David stared at him. "Is that what this is really about? The modernity of it? Because when Neal got the flu last winter you were the first to say we should bring him to the hospital."

"It's not the medicine. Or perhaps it is a bit, but it's more that… I don't bloody know. I can't even describe it properly."

David had the gall to chuckle. "This is the first time I've ever seen words fail you."

Killian shot him a look that had the Prince putting up his hands in placation.

"Sorry," David said, adding, "What're you always saying? 'A man who doesn't fight for what he wants deserves what he gets'?"

"But I'm not the one fighting this time. It's Emma doing all the work and it's all I can do not to feel extraneous to the proceedings when the need for the fertility clinic is entirely my fault in the first place."

"Extraneous? Just because you're not carrying the kid doesn't mean you're out of the equation."

"It rather feels like it, truth be told. I'm the reason we needed those fertility treatments and I couldn't even be part of getting that right."

David nodded. "I think I get what you mean. If something's your fault, you need to be the one to fix it. But there's some things you can't fix yourself and all you can do is be there for other people while they work through it."

Sterling advice, true, and Killian could feel his face softening at David's words. But it wasn't the entirety of the problem and he stubbornly tried to hold onto what had been driving him thus far. "I never realized I would be so far removed from the entire process apart from what I could squeeze into a jar. It makes me no more a parent than my own father. And I rather want to be more involved than that."

Silence followed, stretching longer than Killian thought it would. Not that Killian expected the Prince to reply with something witty and immediate, but the quiet soon grew uncomfortable. He turned only to find an unexpected heaviness and understanding on his father-in-law's face.

"That makes two of us," David replied softly. He added, "You want this kid. Diapers and sleepless nights and all?"

"I want it with Emma. Every scraped knee and midnight crying," Killian told him sincerely.

"That's the difference."

"The difference?"

"You're already trying to be there. You're already thinking about the hard stuff and how involved you want to be in this kid's life. That's the difference that's gonna make you a better dad than your father was, and your kid isn't even here yet."

"How can you possibly be sure of that?" Killian asked.

"I'm not. But it's all I've got when it comes to Emma and Neal. Just a little bit of hope that trying to be there for my kids will help me be a better dad than what I grew up with," David told him. "Does Emma know how the clinic treatments have made you feel?" David saw through him before Killian could school his features. "Maybe you should tell her that? For starters. And then after you can worry about Emma shouldering the pregnancy herself. Besides, you'll be doing a bit of heavy lifting during the actual pregnancy and after the birth. Pickle ice cream runs are no joke."

"Pickle ice cream?" Killian's stomach turned at the thought. "Should I start buying that now?"

David clapped his hand on Killian's back. "You really are an eager beaver Killian."

"I need to go. I need to be with Emma." Killian stood up suddenly. As he left he heard David shouting to tell Emma to call him and Snow. Killian barely managed to wave an arm in acknowledgment as he raced from the docks.

He could scarcely remember how long it took him to get home, only that he was winded by the time he bounded up the stairs three at a time to find that Emma was still hidden in the bathroom.

"Swan?" He knocked on the door, only remembering at the last second that Emma had said she wanted to be alone. Perhaps he ought to wait for her to finish her bath first? Make her that cup of tea? Several seconds passed and Emma surprised him by telling him to come in.

Killian quickly shed his jacket as the somehow still stifling humidity of the bathroom hit him. He thought to leave the door open a crack, to make the room less suffocating, but one look at Swan shivering had him closing the door.

Her head lifted slightly from the edge of the tub. "I thought you'd be at the bar with a bottle of rum."

"Aye, I meant to go there, but I actually ran into your father. And suffice it to say, he now knows we've been trying for a child," Killian admitted, adding reluctantly, "And that we went to the fertility clinic to aid our endeavors."

Emma's head lowered back onto the tiles and her eyes shut. Her hair, knotted at the top of her head, had come partly undone and the ends trailed aimlessly through the bathwater. For all the exhaustion he knew she must be feeling, she looked more resigned than anything else. "What did he say?"

"He was rather helpful actually," Killian said.

He half expected her to lift an eyebrow in question, but she did nothing, her head still tilted back and eyes closed.

He admitted, "I wasn't entirely honest with you regarding the treatment. How I felt about it." Without even looking at her, Killian knew her head was already running through at least five different scenarios that all ended in him leaving her. True Love couldn't entirely chase away the ghosts of long-earned fears, so he added quickly, "I love you, Emma Swan, and I want children with you. It's the treatment itself and what it implies that's… Everything was placed on you. That's part of what's been consuming me all this time."

"I don't follow." Emma finally turned to face him. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Were it not for the seriousness of the topic, Killian would have smiled at how adorable it looked. "I'm the one that's gonna carry this kid. Why wouldn't the treatments be for me?"

"Because I'm the one whose virility is lacking, not you. It's my fault we had to resort to such methods in the first place and-"

"Killian, don't you dare say that." Emma's hand came up his cheek, her thumb soothing along the skin there. Her eyes narrowed in thought and she added in a smaller voice, "You said that was only part of what bothered you. What's the rest of it?"

He held her hand against his cheek, turning to press a kiss to her palm and breathing her in as he gathered his thoughts. "Being so removed from the procedures left me feeling distinctly like my father. With all its abhorrent distance and cowardice. I've always tried to take responsibility for my actions, to shoulder those burdens myself instead of placing the load onto others, even if I haven't always been successful in that regard. I wonder now if I didn't learn to do so by wanting to be what he wasn't."

"You're not your father," Emma told him. "You're present and here and these last months' you've been amazing about the procedures, even if you have been a little heavy on the eager-beaver-ness." He shook his head, and Emma's frown deepened in concern. "Do you not… You don't want to try the IVF again?"

Killian squeezed her hand briefly before moving his palm to rest on her cheek in comfort. "Oh Swan, I do want to try again. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come to terms with it myself, but I'd like to try once more, if you're willing."

"Yeah?" Her voice held that scared but hopeful upswing again, the same one she had when she first broached the subject of parenthood so many months earlier.

He nodded. "Perhaps it will be different this time, with both of us more knowingly engaged in the process. Swan?" Emma's eyes were wet and in one motion she rushed forward to wrap her arms around him, pressing her face into his shoulder. Uncaring that he was still clothed and she was soaked, Killian wrapped his arms around her and held her close, smoothing a hand up and down her back.

"I love you," She said. He felt more than heard the words pressed into his neck in an imprint. "I love you, I love you, I love you. "

It was another week before they decided to call Dr. Laiche to tell her they wanted to try the treatments once more, and on the doctor's advice another two months before they could even consider trying again.

Walking into the clinic two months later though, Killian had the feeling that maybe this time it would work. After all, some things were worth trying again.

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Holy Shit Balls this was tough to do. Using Killian's perspective without actually giving all of his perspective. Let me know how I did and what modern adventures Killian should face next.