killianslonghaul:

I’m obsessed with Captain Beauty and I needed more of them. 

Also, Killian with a baby, so…

—— 

“Here, I, uh… got this for him.” 

Belle smiles at him as he hands her the blanket, and he looks away only to find Emma’s gaze. She shifts to stand closer to him, their bodies brushing as they watch Belle swaddle her son. Her eyes are clouded, like she’s trying to solve a problem that she knows she can’t. He wraps an arm around her and she leans into his side, watching Belle and her newborn child closely. His lips against her hair seem to offer some comfort, as he can feel her relax ever so slightly. The wrinkles between her brow remain, however, and he just holds her tighter.

(He understands how badly she wants to help– he, too, feels like he’d do almost anything to help the woman in front of them, another soul that he cares about who has been irreversibly damaged by Rumplestiltskin.) 

“Thank you,” Belle murmurs, tucking the last corner of the blanket around the lad.

“Any time, love,” he tells her, and he lets his eyes fall on the baby in her arms. His eyes are closed, as peaceful as he can be, no idea of the turmoil he’s just been born into. Slowly, he reaches out to brush his knuckle against the child’s cheek, captivated by how soft and fragile it feels. “He’s a handsome lad.” 

Belle beams at that, her eyes lighting up. “He is, isn’t he? He’s perfect. He’s also very lucky to have people in his life that have fought so hard for him, for us. Thank you, both, for all you’ve done. I can never repay you.” 

“No need, we were happy to help.” Emma reaches out to hold the baby’s hand in two of her fingers. “We’ll do whatever we can to keep him safe.” 

Belle’s smile fades at that, and Killian instantly wants to redraw it back on her face, to take away the pain that is replacing her happiness so quickly. “In that case, would you mind… calling the Blue Fairy? Tell her I need to see her, please.” 

“I’ll do it,” Emma says, squeezing his arm and then disappearing. After she’s gone, Belle refocuses on her son, staring at him as if trying to memorize every piece of him. After a moment, she looks back up to see him watching her, and a piece of her smile returns. 

“Would you… would you like to hold him?” 

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