Chapter Text
Once Killian climbs into Emma’s vessel, she rolls down her window a crack and touches the top of her car. He feels a pulse of magic radiate around them, enveloping the entire vehicle. From the way Emma peels out of the parking lot and ignores most traffic laws, he’s fairly certain she used a cloaking spell in order to make sure Neal can’t follow them back to her house.
In his teenage years, he would have killed for such a spell and the ability it could give him to speed or race or f*ck a lass in public. Now, he’s just grateful that, despite Emma’s apparent rage, she is making sure that Neal doesn't know how to find Killian.
And he’s impressed - bloody impressed - that she can do such a spell with only a few days of training.
Emma is silent the entire way home. But the rage is coming off of her in waves, as is Neal’s scent. It had been torture to watch, from afar, as Neal embraced Emma and he watched Emma wipe away tears. Whatever she was saying to him, whatever lies or half-truths she had deployed, those tears had looked achingly real, and he hated that it was Neal comforting her, and not him.
Neal had even marked her subtly. She probably hadn’t even noticed he had done it. But Killian can smell it with every flutter of her pulse and it makes him want to be sick. Neal had had his chance with Emma, ruined it for some insane reasons Killian can’t fathom, and now she had chosen Killian to be with her, to mark her, to love her.
Or, at least, she had. Until Neal had spilled the secret Killian had thus far been too cowardly to tell her.
It only takes a few minutes for them to get back to Emma’s house. A few minutes that feel like a few seconds, but also an eternity. She doesn’t even stop the engine when she puts the Bug into park.
“You have ten minutes to get your sh*t together. Then I’ll take you wherever you want to go and we’re done.”
Emma’s hands are clutching the wheel so tight that her skin is turning white. He wants to take her hands in his but he’s afraid she’s going to punch him.
“Emma.”
“No.”
“Emma, let me -”
She turns to him, looks at him finally, and the fury in her emerald eyes makes him draw back. Fury and betrayal and confusion. Confusion, at least, he can work with.
“Is Neal telling the truth? Did you kill your father?”
He only hesitates for a millisecond. Emma can see through lies. “Yes.”
Emma’s jaw clenches and her gaze snaps back to the steering wheel. “Go get your sh*t.”
“Emma. Please.”
Her response is so quiet that even his superior senses have to strain to hear her. “I asked your brother. I asked your f*cking brother if you were a criminal. And he told me you’re a good man. And I was the idiot who believed him.”
Even as his heart twists with shame, it swells with the praise. All he’s ever wanted is for Liam to see him as a good man. But it is a hollow victory when Emma, someone who’s looked at him like he’s worthy since that fateful night in a dark alley, will not even look at him now.
“Believe him. If you don’t believe me, believe the words of the decorated and respected police captain Liam Jones. You can call him right now for the whole story or you can let me inside your home and I will tell you myself. You can ask me anything, Emma.” He holds out his arms as best as he can in the confined space. “I am an open book.”
Her fingers are still gripping the steering wheel. He’s not sure how much longer he can stay in this car with her, smelling Neal’s scent and mark on her. It is pure torture. But he has to, for her sake.
“Maybe it’s better if you just leave, Killian.”
The walls around her, the ones he first observed in the shelter, are higher than he’s ever seen. He managed to scale them through subterfuge, making her believe he was nothing but a loving, attentive canine. And by some miracle, that was enough to transfer her affections to Killian Jones, wounded man on the run.
But Killian Jones, father killer? He doesn’t have a chance.
Emma is battening down the hatches, boarding up the windows into her heart. She’s protecting herself. From him. Because she doesn’t want him to hurt her as all the others have.
Bloody hell, for a moment Killian thinks maybe he should just leave too. Save her more heartbreak and pain. Gods know she’s seen too much of it in her life. Does he want to be the cause of even more?
But if she is endeavoring to protect her heart from being broken, that means it still works. She is still capable of giving and receiving love. He has only gotten a taste of that love over the past month and is a rare and precious thing. It is worth fighting for. As he watches her focus on closing herself off to him, he knows that he’s not ready to give up.
He has hurt her. He will most certainly hurt her again. That is the nature of love and family. The pack wrestles and fights and makes mistakes. But they also support and encourage and build one another up. He’s not content to just be the cause of her latest heartbreak. Killian is going to be the cause of her next joy as well.
“You already knew I was a murderer.”
She blinks at his blunt words and spares him a surprised look before she closes herself off again.
“I killed one of Gold’s wolves the day you first saw this form. He smelled me on you and he attacked you. I do not regret protecting you nor have I mourned his death. And unless I am mistaken, you feel the same way.”
There’s the smallest change in her breath, the slightest loosening of her muscles.
“Can I tell you what happened with my father? Can I explain? Or will you take the word of Neal without letting me rebut?”
She hesitates so long that his own lungs stop working. Finally, she stops the car engine and pulls the keys from the ignition.
“Inside?” he asks, almost expecting her to get back on the road and shove him out of a moving car. Emma looks at him carefully.
“In the yard.”
He follows her to the overgrown grass of the backyard and carefully sits. Emma joins him and watches him so carefully it seems she expects him to murder her next. And only a few hours ago they sat in this very grass before their run, her nose in his fur and his tongue on the shell of her ear. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Spill,” she says finally. Her entire posture is closed-off.
“I can’t remember - have we explained werewolf command yet, love?”
Her response to new information about the supernatural world has often been eager excitement. In this instance, she shakes her head and gives him a withering look as though he wants to discuss taxes.
“Werewolves have the ability to influence minds.”
He gets her on that. Her brow furrows adorably. “I thought you said that purple witches do that.”
“They do. That is their speciality. As do vampires, sirens, and a few other creatures. Among werewolves, Alphas have it the strongest, so they might better lead the pack.”
Emma’s mistrust doubles. “You ever use it on me?”
Killian looks her straight in the eye and begs her to see his sincerity. “Never. I swear.”
It takes a moment of her eyes assessing his, her mouth drooping in the corners, before she nods shortly. She believes him.
“My father was the Alpha of our pack.”
“Brennan.” Killian flinches. No one ever says his father’s name anymore. Hearing it from the witch trainer Ingrid had been an unwelcome surprise.
“Aye.” He hesitates. “Did Ingrid tell you anything else about him?” She shakes her head. Killian isn’t sure if that makes this easier or harder.
“He was the owner of a shipping business. He transported goods across the country and all around the world. My father wasn’t around much, but when he was, then Liam and I knew we had best pay him the respect he was due. He did not hesitate to use his Alpha command on anyone, including his two sons.
“I suppose that is why Neal and I became such fast friends. We both knew what it was to have an Alpha father. And both Robert Gold and Brennan Jones shared a disdain for mortals. Neal and I often talked about what it would mean to shake off those old-fashioned ideas and attempt to live in harmony with other creatures. Liam was to be the next Alpha, but I wanted to be involved, to help him, to care for the pack and all of Storybrooke.”
Killian sighs. “When I graduated high school, I began working at the family business full-time. Liam had already graduated from university and started with the force. Father approved because he saw the benefits of having an in with the police.” He grits his teeth. Brennan had certainly been correct, though he hadn’t been the one to reap those benefits.
“I found an irregularity with the books. Shipments that didn’t make sense, payments that didn’t match supplies. I did some investigating, hoping to prove myself as a self-starter. Perhaps get my father to notice me. What I found changed everything.”
He runs his fingers through his hair. “My father was a human trafficker. A slaver. He was using his Alpha command on mortals to subdue them and using the shipping company to sell them to customers far away.”
Emma recoils in disgust.
“Holy sh-” She shakes her head. “What the f*ck? What the f*ck is wrong with werewolves?”
Killian resists the urge to defend his kind. He replies calmly, “I had the same thought, love.” Emma’s eyes grow wide. “I was furious. One of those instances that makes a wolf transform spontaneously. My clothes were in shreds and I had to walk naked through the warehouse to get to my car, clutching my privates like some idiot in a romantic comedy.”
Just for an instant, there is a ghost of a smile on Emma’s lips, a trace of laughter in her green eyes. It is gone before Killian can blink, but he knows he saw it, and it makes his heart begin to glow.
And then he returns to his story.
“I told my father that he needed to stop. Threatened to turn him in to the authorities, expose his nefarious deeds.” He pauses. “He tried to kick me out of the pack.”
Emma’s arms have dropped from their crossed position, no longer defensive, now engrossed in his story. “Tried to?”
“I decided to challenge him for Alpha.”
“What does that mean? How do you become Alpha? Is that an inherited title or-?”
Killian shakes his head. “You challenge the previous Alpha in combat. But to do so is usually suicide. The Alpha is the strongest and most powerful member of the pack. Gifts from the gods to a rightful Alpha.”
“So is it a fight to the death?”
“It doesn’t have to be. There are Alphas who choose their successor, who have a ceremonial combat. We expected our father to do that one day with Liam. Robert likely plans to do it with Neal. But many die in a battle for Alpha. And it is usually not the Alpha.”
Emma looks at him carefully, assessing him. He waits for her to put the pieces together. “So you and your dad fought. And you won. And then,” she shakes her head, confused, “then you became Alpha? But you-” more pieces fall into place. “You… you gave it to Liam. That’s why he’s the Alpha now.”
“Aye.”
“But why?”
There are many reasons for that. Too young. Too foolish. Too brash. Too much blood on his hands. An entire business he had to dissolve to even begin to right his father’s wrongs. The way the pack had always seen Liam as the golden boy. The way the pack had always seen him as the wild pup. But most of all -
“Because it was rightfully his. Liam was always meant to be the Alpha, not me.”
He’s shocked to see pity in her eyes. Bloody pity. It baffles him. Why on earth would she pity him?
Emma plucks a blade of dry grass and begins toying with it. Killian watches, patient, half hoping half agonizing what her response will be.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks the blade of grass.
The truth spills out. “I was afraid.” Her fingers pause. “You might find this hard to believe, but I was not eager to expose my greatest failures to you, Swan.”
She plucks another blade and loops the two together. “Failures? What do you mean?”
“That I didn’t see it sooner, even though I had been working in the business for four years. That I didn’t just go straight to the authorities. That I didn’t find a way out without killing the man.”
Emma sighs. “I - I get that.”
Killian seeks her eyes, praying that she will look at him again. “You do?”
Finally, she looks up and her fury has been replaced by a wariness. “Yeah. I just - it caught me off guard. I let Neal get to me,” she spits out the name. “And I let me get to me. My sh*t and my sad story and my - Well, when you’re an orphan and all you want is family, its pretty f*cking hard to understand why someone would leave their family like Neal did or someone would kill theirs like you did.”
Killian winces and Emma’s face pales. “I’m sorry, that was -”
“- warranted,” he finishes for her. “I promise, it is fine. And it isn’t everyday you find out your boyfr-” he cuts himself off, clears his throat, and tries again. “Finding out a secret like this is quite the shock.”
They sit in silence for a few minutes, Emma making a bare patch in her grass and Killian watching, waiting, worrying. Finally, he clears his throat.
“If you still want to take me somewhere, I might be able to shack up with Scarlet. He owes me a favor. I will obey your wishes. But -”
“But?” she repeats, heart rate jumping. His heart jumps too.
“But that is not my wish. And just because you decide you need some space or do not want me infringing on your hospitality any longer does not mean that I am through with our relationship, Emma.”
Her eyes finally meet his and she’s searching for an answer but he doesn’t know what the question is or how to make her see the truth. Killian just sits and wills her to understand all the things that he cannot say for fear of her running.
“Do you want to go?”
“No.”
Emma bites her lower lip. “I don’t want you to go either. I’m - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so quick to turn on you when you’ve proven that you’re -” She doesn’t finish the sentence, just shrugs, like he’s supposed to know what she thinks he is. It is heartwarming and infuriating all at the same time.
So he finishes it for her. “I’m here. As long as you will have me. And likely longer.”
Like a flower opening its petals to turn toward the sunlight, Emma’s defensive arms and legs drop down. She begins to shift toward him and he shifts right with her, opening up his own arms and legs, until she is leaning against his chest, curled up between his splayed thighs, his arms wrapped tight around her torso, and her scent all around him. She still smells like Neal, which is truly awful, but he endeavors to ignore that for now so he can hold her as bloody tight as possible.
They just breathe together until Emma murmurs, “I’m sorry I didn’t convince Neal.”
Killian shakes his head and kisses her neck - a different side than where Neal marked. “Nonsense. I apologize for letting you get in that situation. We will just have to trust that Liam can find a way to fix everything with old-fashioned investigative work.”
Emma sighs and leans against his shoulder. “Okay, this has all been way too many emotions for me. What do you say we play hooky the rest of the day and binge something mind-numbing? I can research my next bounty tonight or maybe even tomorrow.”
“Capital idea, love, but can I make one request?”
Emma hums and turns slightly in his arms, their noses brushing together. “What’s that?”
“Can you shower and change your clothes? You absolutely reek of Neal.”
