Killian has been a part-time carer for Henry Cassidy for nearly five years now, over which time he has come to appreciate and value the balance it’s brought to his mostly tumultuous existence. But when Neal remarries and brings someone new into their lives, he finds his precarious peace about to be disturbed forever. All he knows is this – no matter what happens, somebody has to fight for Henry’s happiness.
(Which may well make Emma Swan the best damn thing that ever happens to them.)
Captain Cobra Swan. Loosely based on Henry James’ ‘What Maisie Knew’.
and finally here is part 3, checking in at around 12,000 words. thanks a million to everybody who’s jumped aboard this crazy story train with me, I hope you like the ending! Rating: T Warnings: the same from the previous parts apply, but nothing major. Tagging these sweethearts as requested: @piratesails, @mossandmushroom, @the-reason-to-sail-home, @kat2609 & @jimothyhaalpert.
and, onwards!
It feels
like some sort of surreal nightmare.
Beside him,
Emma has completely shut down, gaze fixed to the floor as Neal lifts Henry into
the air, rattling off an excited greeting as he presses kisses to the boy’s
cheek. Beside him stands his PA (Tamara, Killian thinks her name is) awkwardly
readjusting the strap on her bag and not looking anybody in the eye. Although
the early Boston summer air is light, it feels solid and discomfiting, and
gives him an almost unbearable urge to crawl out of his own skin. Anything that
would stop the flush at the back of his neck, his hand from twitching from its
place in his pocket eager to find itself in Emma’s again, an odd sort of shame
from clinging to his shoulders.
He’d tried
to step into somebody else’s life, again.
And as
always, reality has a way of wrenching him painfully back to the present. Away
from that breath of a fantasy.
(Was it only
moments ago that he and Emma had Henry balanced between them, a carnival behind
them and the rest of the afternoon ahead? The world had seemed so perfect then.)
“So,” Neal
says, approaching the pair of them while he balances Henry on his hip. He’s
smiling but Killian knows better, can see the tic that jumps at the corner of
his mouth and the slight furrow in his brow. “What’re you guys doing here?”
It’s more of
an accusation, a probe, than a question, but at least Neal is being subtle.
Subtler than Tamara and her shamefaced looks at the sky.
But if Neal
wants to be coy, Killian is perfectly happy to play along. “We just took Henry
to a carnival on the common,” he informs him, forcing his hands to stay in his
pockets.
“No, I meant
what’re you guys doing with my son, together.”
Not
particularly subtle at all, then.
He knows the
conclusion Neal might have already reached, knows how much it must horrify Emma
and Killian hurries to correct his assumption. “Neal —”
“So the plan
is to just wait until I’m out of town and then gang up on me, right?” Neal cuts
him off with a furious glare, his grip on Henry tightening. The boy, unsure
about what’s happening, clutches at the collar of Neal’s shirt. “Show him a
better time with a nuclear family, is that it?” Killian feels his ears burn at
the accusation, even though he knows it has no basis in truth. Mostly because
whatever hadn’t happened, he was
harbouring feelings for Neal’s wife. And he had spent a fair few moments of
that day holding her hand. Wishing she was his, imagining it. “Have you been
doing this a lot?”
Killian
raises a hand in a placating gesture, aware the rising volume of his friend’s
voice is starting to attract bystanders.
“I just
wanted some company on an excursion, and Henry asked for Emma.”
“Well Emma
surrendered her right to see Henry when she stopped answering my calls,” Neal
snaps, throwing a hurt look in Emma’s direction and Killian can’t work out
which way is up. The floor is sliding from underneath him, the Boston skyline
climbing towards the sun. It’s like wading through glue, trying to decide which
party appears the most hurt when they have both imploded so catastrophically
over the past week. His friend, or the woman he is developing strong feelings
for.
It All Starts With a Dance 