"Hurry mom! It's this way!"

The windy day stirred up the waters of the marina. The Jolly Roger rocked in a lulling manner to Killian as he attempted to drown out the sounds coming from the docks. He let himself fall into the motions that had once been to him as natural as breathing. Stepping in time and working in rhythm with the rocking vessel. The ship had of late fallen into more disrepair then Killian would ever care to admit. For over three hundred years she had been the one thing in his life that he could count on and lately he had to put her to the side while dealing with his new family. Something which left a very horrible guilt in him. Nearly two years had passed after the second curse and the witch had been defeated. The small Maine town had finally begun to right itself again. Things were calm for the first time since the pirate captain had stepped foot in its boundaries.

Since their last battle many things had changed. Things which Killian constantly mulled over as he worked on the Jolly Roger for the fourth day in a row. It had started out as a need for upkeep on the poor old girl but had turned into another way to avoid his lovely wife. She wanted his ideas for names for their coming babe. Emma, bless the lass, just wouldn't let it go. She even had the nerve to send her parents after him. Even her own son was sent in undercover to get an answer from him. It wasn't his fault he didn't have an answer yet and they still had another few months or so before they needed a name for their young one.

He dunked the cloth into the wash bucket and scrubbed at the rail once again. The physical release from scrubbing the ship stem to stern barely curbed the wondering thoughts in his mind.

"Excuse me, mister!"

Killian tossed the rag in the bucket and looked over at the young boy who had stepped on his ship. The lad didn't seem to wait for a reply from him before excitedly reaching out to touch the rail, looking up at the mast with a large smile on his face. He seemed to be a several years younger than Henry, maybe seven or eight, but just as excited to be standing on the ship. The man once known as Captain Hook strode towards the boy, pulling down the sleeves on his black sweater and quickly noticed the woman scrambling up the gangplank.

"Evan what did I say?" she gasped out and grabbed for his arm, pulling him off the ship. The woman turned to Killian and sighed. "I'm so sorry, sir. He's just gets so excited when we come down to the docks. He's been eyeing your ship for a while now and this is the first time we've ever seen anyone on it."

"No problem Ms.…"

"Oh, Hawkins. Annette Hawkins." She placed a hand on her son's shoulders and smiled at the brown haired boy. "And this trouble maker is Evan, my eldest."

"A pleasure Ms. Hawkins to be sure. And you, young lad," Killian smiled and kneeled before the boy. "Don't you know it's horribly rude to step upon a man's ship without permission from the Captain?"

He quickly winked at Annette and stifled a laugh as the boy's eyes widened in shock.

"I'm sorry, sir...I mean Captain." He paused and looked up at the mast once again.

"Well since you seem so enthralled by my ship I guess it wouldn't hurt to look about."

The boy's eyes widened again and he scampered off to the bow of the ship. Annette laughed and the two watched as the boy checked out every nook and cranny.

"You have any children?" she asked.

Killian sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck with his right hand, attempting to keep his left out of sight.

"Aye, well, technically. My wife has a fourteen year old son and we have our first on the way."

She smiled wide and watched her own boy bop in and out of sight.

"I had thought you might. Only another parent would understand indulging a child like this. Thank you again, Captain. He's just been so obsessed with ships ever since my mother told him some of the old wives of our family from the old land. This one in particular," her eyes swept over the Jolly, "had caught his eye ever since it arrived. It looks quite a bit like the ship in the painting we have…oh what was the name on that ship?" She paused for a moment. "Evan, what was the name of the ship in that picture at grandma Mac's?"

Evan paused from his inspection of the lines and his brow furrowed in concentration. "The Jewel of the Realm!" he finally returned.

"That's it," Annette clapped her hands together and smiled, watching her boy as he ran down the deck to the helm. Both mother and son totally unaware of the ghostly colour in Killian's face.

"Anyways, it was a beautiful story. We have these letters and painting that a father left with our family to pass onto his sons. Apparently they were stationed on that ship and some relative of ours was supposed to find the boys later. Never did of course, I'm sure you remember what it was like back there…so disorganized. We've held on to those things for, oh god a few hundred years at least…still have them at my mum's. Became more of a family thing now, a cute story."

Annette paused and looked up at the young Captain. He stood wide eyed, staring at her. His face had turned several shades whiter and his fist had clenched tightly.

"Captain, you ok?"

"Lass, are you sure of the ship's name?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'm sure. It's written down on the sketch. Why?"

He backed away a step or two, leaning a hand…or rather a hooked hand on the rail for support. She gasped quickly before moving to steady him.

"Why, lass? Because this ship once sailed under that name."

Annette drew out a long breathe and ran a hand through her hair. "What is it now?"

The Captain shakily smirked. "She's called the Jolly Roger now."

Eyes flicked quickly to his hook and back again.

"Aye, that Jolly Roger."

"And that Captain Hook I'm assuming."

He sighed and leaned against the railing. "Aye, but not for some time now. I've been reformed you see."

Annette wrapped her arms around herself to stave off a quick gust. She stared off to the open ocean before her, then turned to face the darkening eyes of the once famous pirate.

"Well then, Captain, I guess I have a few things that I can drop off here later tonight. We are under a strict oath to deliver the contents to the ship's captain should any member of my family come in contact with him." She dug in her purse and pulled out a card. "Here is my number, in case you need it, Captain."

"Jones."

"Pardon?" she looked past him for a moment to her son who was walking back towards the pair.

"Jones, it's my name. Killian Jones."

Annette smiled and shook his hand as he held it out. "Well Captain Jones I'll see you shortly."

He nodded and said his goodbyes to the lad, watching the pair walk off the gang plank. Now to wait till evening…

The night had settled hours before Emma slipped onto the Jolly Roger as smoothly as a six month pregnant woman could. She couldn't wait any longer. Dinner had nearly gotten cold before she and Henry finally decided to continue without him. His empty chair creating more noise than the person usually sitting in it. After leaving her son to his own devices for the night (most likely including staying up to late playing games or watching movies) she drove over to the docks, the only place she ever had to look to find him.

A wind whipped her blonde hair about and she quickly took shelter down below, trying to stay as quite as she could. Smoothly and almost effortlessly she knew the amount of steps and the placement of the captain's door.

"Killian?"

She stepped inside nearly missed the man in all black sitting against the wall on the captain's bed, arms crossed and staring of into space. He didn't answer her, didn't move but just stared off into the darkness before him. The only light came from a small candle on his desk.

"Killian?" she spoke again, slightly louder. Stepping forward she moved towards the bed but something in the flicker of the candle light caught her eye. Leaning against the main support beam and on the desk sat a large framed drawing. In the dark it was hard to see the details but in the soft candle light Emma saw the shape of a ship in the frame.

"Killian?" she tried again, laying a hand on one of the legs that hung over the edge. No response.

"Hook!" she slapped at his leg.

He jolted and finally stared at her. Blue eyes wide and wild. He looked around, confused and finally settled on her.

"Emma," he breathed out. His voice shaky and raw.

"Hey, hey," she whispered calmly. Reaching out, she took his head in her hands, smoothly and soothingly rubbed her thumb over his jaw line. He reached up with his hand and wrapped it around her wrist. Gently kisses were placed on the inside of her wrist and the silence spread.

"Killian, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer but rather guided her gently onto the bed with him. She curled up in his warmth, laying her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around and rested his hand on the child tucked safely within her. No sounds came from them. Only the lapping of the water on the hull of the ship which lulled the pair as time passed.

"I just realised I didn't even know their names."

Emma looked up at him and then followed his gaze to the painting that they were now sitting straight across from. Looking closer it startled her to see that it was the Jolly. The sketch was done beautifully, capturing the life that the ship always seemed to have. Rustling paper made her looked back at Killian and then to the parchment he had in his hand.

"What's that?"

He let out a short dry laugh and tossed the old stained paper onto her lap.

"A pathetic apology from a coward."

She raised a brow but took the parchment into her hand. It was old, to be sure. Folded and creased like it had been that way since they day it had been written.

"Who's it from?"

"My father."

Emma let the paper fall from her hand and quickly turned to her husband. He refused to meet her stare but rather attempted to sooth himself by running his hand over their child who in turn responded with a kick of its own. He had never spoken of his family other than quick mentions of Liam but the pain that crossed his face whenever he did stopped her from prying more.

"How did you get this?"

"A woman stopped by today with her son. It turned out long ago a man –my father- left letters and that sketch," he nodded his head towards the drawing on his desk, "with her family to give to the Captain of the Jewel of the Realm- the Jolly Roger's original name-, so he could give it to his sons, Liam and myself and they kept it all this time."

"God," she sighed out and grabbed for the paper again. "So this is a three hundred year old letter from your father to you and your brother? And it's been kept by someone else this whole time and just happened to find you again?"

He shrugged and leaned back against the wall. "So it seems."

"Can I?" she held up the paper.

Killian looked down and nodded. "That is just the instructions given to the family."

Carefully, as not to tear the centuries old paper, Emma read the letter written by her father-in-law.

To whomever these letter pass to

These are the recorded instructions and wishes which follow the enclosed letters. In accordance with an agreement between myself and Lord Admiral MacNamara, he and his descendants are tasked to keep hold of these items until the ship known as Jewel of the Realm returns to which the enclosed items are to be then intrusted to the Captain and from him passed onto the men known as Liam and Killian Jones, both of whom were last stationed on the ship.

…now to proceed without the formalities. Please help me get these letters to my boys. I left in a bad way, the coward's way and these are the only way for me to explain myself. These boys are good and deserve answers. Answers about their past, their family and most importantly, their mother.

To my boys- should they by some miracle of the gods get these- I'm sorry. Please, please take the time to read the ramblings of your old man. I've made many mistakes but please, for your own sake read these. Read about your coward father and your mother. Read it for her, I know neither of you truly knew her.

I love you boys. I'm sorry.

Emma ran a finger over the hastily written letter. "And the letters?"

He reached into his jacket and pulled out several sealed envelopes, clutching them in his white knuckled grip.

"Are you going to read them?"

"No."

His wife pulled away and stared at him, her green eyes ablaze. All he could do was shake his head again. She couldn't understand, not really. She had her family at the end of the day. She knew that they hadn't want to leave her, knew how had they fought for her and she in turn fought as hard for her own son. She had made peace with her abandonment in the years after Neverland.

He never had, never really needed to. He had been there when his father left, even knew why. He had been there when his brother died. He had technically been there when his mother had passed as well. He had his answers all along, they all had died. They all had left. The mystery that Emma had been left with led to questions and speculations. He never had any. He knew what happened. Black and white, no shades of grey. Of course there were a few small questions to ask…such as what were their names? But nothing answered in there would affect the family he had in the here and now. Killian Jones had buried his past years ago, made tentative peace and drudging it up now would only mar the family he and Emma had created.

Without continuing on the topic Killian pulled Emma in next to him again and resumed feeling for the active child beneath his hand. This is where he wanted to be. In the present with his wife and child.

"Why not?"

"Nothing he could write in there will make any difference. He left us. End of story."

Emma held up the paper and shook it in her hand. "Obviously not, Killian or he wouldn't have gone through so much trouble to get this to you. I mean, these letters have been here waiting for you this who time…"

"And they will be waiting still till I throw them overboard."

He shifted out from underneath her and stepped off the bed. A firm grip on his arm stopped him from storming out the room.

"Swan, let go."

"No, Hook," she spat out the word then withdrew. She held out her hand. "Let me read them at least."

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. "Why? Why listen to the long lists of apologies from a coward of a man. He was nothing but a useless waste of breath, leaving his sons, his wife to die? That man," Killian threw the offending papers onto the table and began pacing, running his hand threw his hair, "that man sold more pieces of his soul than anyone I have ever met. He owed debts enough for someone of my age, Emma. We spent our lives working off his debts, what in the hell did he do to earn these? He swindled and failed at trying to work people and I am not going to give him the light of day to explain himself."

Emma leaned forward and sat on the edge. Eyes met in a stalemate. "Do it for our future, for our child. Maybe you don't want to remember him but if there is any information on your mother, your brother…don't you want to know about them at least?" She slid off the captain's bed and took his hand. "Killian, if I had had a letter from my parents in my hand, no matter how angry I would still want to know." She placed a hand over their child. "What if this kid wants to know about his other grandparents? Don't you want something to tell him?"

Once again the lapping of the water became the only sound in the cabin. She tightened her grip on his hand and guided him to stand before the large sketch of the Jolly.

In the flickering and dying light of the candle she watch the emotions cross his face, she could almost see the list of pros and cons flashing before him. Finally he handed her the age-weathered pages.

"Just let me know if there is anything important."

Second part to follow shortly...please read and review. Thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed 'Distinguished' and 'Wedding Day' and thank you for all the continued support.