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donteattheappleshook · 5 years

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Just Human Volume 2 Part 4/5

Ao3

A continuation of last year’s @cssns story, Just Human. Now that Killian is a ghost and Mary Margaret knows everything, what does life have in store for a group of supernatural misfits? With the threat of Gold gone, Emma learns that sometimes just being human is the most complicated challenge of all.

So this one is a little late... My dog got sick and I went full dog mom mode. But she’s better now which means a new chapter!

As always, thank you to the ever patient and talented @djlbg for not just one but TWO beautiful artworks and to the wonderful @thejollyroger-writer “the comma queen” for all her work and support as an excellent beta!

PART FOUR

Emma’s better after that, after the first night when she let herself cry through the whole night in Killian’s arms. It still hurts sometimes, but it’s less of a sharp pain ripping her apart and more like the dull ache of an old injury she can often forget or ignore. She tells Mary Margaret and it surprises her how much it helps. Her friend is still one of the kindest people she’s ever met, she doesn’t see Emma as the selfish bad friend she considers herself to be when she confesses her jealousy, and reassures Emma that this baby will need its aunt and that she will need her best friend if she’s going to do this.

“Can I tell you something?” Mary Margaret asks.

“Of course,” Emma says.

Mary Margaret wrings her hands, fidgeting in her seat, when she speaks she almost sounds guilty. “I’m scared,” she confesses finally. “Not of having the baby - well, a little of that, but no more than any other mom I guess. But… Emma, what if the baby is a werewolf? What if it changes while it’s inside me? What if it doesn’t survive the transformation?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Emma says, reaching out to take her friend’s hand.

“What if it does survive and has to go through the change every month? I’ve seen David go through it once. All that pain - Emma, I don’t think I could bear it. I can’t let my baby suffer.” She’s fighting tears and Emma comes around the table to hug her friend.

She is selfish. Here she’s been worrying about herself when Mary Margaret has been dealing with this and she hadn’t even noticed.

“Have you talked to David about this?”

Mary Margaret shakes her head. “He’d blame himself.”

“You need to tell him,” Emma insists. “I know he’d understand. He’s probably having the same fears as you.”

“I know, I know. It just - it feels wrong to hope that my baby won’t be born like it’s father.”

“Hey,” Emma says, giving her a friendly shake. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting your child to suffer. You’re a mom. Protecting that little person - or supernatural being - inside of you is your job.” Mary Margaret smiles a little and nods through her tears. “Just talk to him.”

***

Leo, Mary Margaret and David’s first child is born human. The pregnancy goes on with no mishaps or hiccups, but that doesn’t mean that Mary Margaret doesn’t panic every time she feels a slightly stronger kick or whenever the ultrasound technician takes slightly longer than normal to find a heartbeat or an image. David is with her throughout, holding her hand and holding his breath as well until the technician exclaims ‘Ah! There he is!’ and that’s how they find out they’re having a son.

When Killian and Emma first come to visit their friends in the hospital, Emma doesn’t think Killian’s ever been as happy to be fully corporeal as he is when David hands him his nephew, and she watches her husband turn into a pile of goo in the presence of the little pink, wrinkled human in his arms. A small spazm goes through her stomach at the sight and she’s not sure which part of it is stronger, the joy or the pain. She loves seeing him with Leo, he’s a natural with kids (who’d have thought?), but seeing him bounce the little bundle and make cooing noises reminds her once again that this is something she will never have. Something we will never have, she thinks when Killian casts her a look that echoes exactly how she feels.

“Killian, what are you doing to my kid?” David asks a few minutes later, and the three turn to Killian, who is thoroughly inspecting each of Leo’s fingers, toes, and pulling up his tiny lips to reveal a gummy smile.

“Just checking him for claws,” Killian says innocently. “Or fangs,” he smirks at his friend and David stands, rolling his eyes.

“Give me back my son, you freak,” he says, taking the baby from Killian, who is chuckling softly. David hands Leo to Mary Margaret, who looks at him adoringly.

“He’s really perfect, isn’t he?” she asks.

Emma smiles. “Yeah, he really is,” she says as the four of them crowd around the newborn.

Perfect lasts for about 24 hours before they get him home and Leo decides to show them all just what his lungs are capable of. He screams. Continuously. All night long. During the day he’s happy as a clam, all gurgles and sleepy eyes and still a little wrinkly. But at night… at night he becomes some kind of possessed, howling banshee who seems dead set on the idea that none of them should sleep if he can’t. This goes on for days. He’s not hungry, he’s not in any pain, there’s nothing medically wrong with him (at least that’s what the three doctors David and Mary Margaret have brought him to in the last two weeks say), and he isn’t comforted by anything they do. They’ve tried rocking, singing, swaddling; nothing works.

Mary Margaret is a mess. So is David. For the most part, Killian and Emma have insisted that they should stay up with Leo since they don’t need sleep anyway but that howling is not something their friends can sleep through. Mary Margaret is at a loss, convinced that this means Leo is some kind of supernatural being and she feels hopeless for not having any solutions.

“Maybe he’s nocturnal,” she suggests in a moment of desperation. Emma shakes her head.

“He’s awake all day and all night,” she reminds her friend.

Mary Margaret nods. “Maybe it’s the moon. Do you think it has something to do with the moon?” she asks. Emma squeezes her hand, looking over at the baby who is happily nestled in his car seat on the coffee table, staring at the pattern on his mother’s dress with fixed attention.

“Mary Margaret, I don’t think this has anything to do with the moon or werewolves or anything like that. I think this is just regular, baby stuff.” She’s trying to reassure her friend but the reality of it is… she has no idea. None of them do. Not one of them has ever had to take care of a baby before. They don’t know anyone whose taken care of a baby before. Mary Margaret’s parents have passed away, David left his own for their safety, Killian is nearly 300 years old, and Emma never had any parents to speak of. They’re scrambling.

“I just…” Mary Margaret pauses, squeezing Emma’s hand harder and looking at her baby. “I’m just so scared that this means he’s going to change.” Her lip trembles and Emma gathers her in her arms before she can start crying.

She’s shushing her friend, rubbing her back soothingly, when Killian comes in the front door. He’s home early, Emma thinks, looking at the time on the TV. Killian peers in almost cautiously before he spots them. He takes in the scene and hesitates.

“Everything okay?” Emma asks, confused by his tiptoeing. He seems very unsure but she doesn’t know what he could have to be unsure about.

“Aye,” he answers, nodding, he looks behind him out the door. “I… I brought someone. But if this is a bad time…” he hesitates. Mary Margaret shakes her head, wiping her tears off her face.

“No, no I’m just being silly,” she says, shaking her head again, as though she can shake the bad thoughts right out.

Killian looks at them for a moment longer before seeming to make a decision. He looks back outside.

“You can come in, lad,” he says to someone they can’t see and suddenly, a small, dark head appears by Killian’s elbow.

The boy hesitates, looking both terrified and lost as he hovers in the doorway, wringing his hands in front of him. Mary Margaret is up in a second and kneeling in front of the stranger - he can’t be more than ten.

“Hi there,” she says in her lovely soothing voice. “I’m Mary Margaret,” she tells him. “What’s your name?” she asks. The boy stays silent, staring at her like he doesn’t know what to make of her. “That’s okay,” she says. “You don’t have to tell me. I bet you were told not to talk to strangers weren’t you? That’s good advice. Do you want to come inside?” she asks, and the boy nods.

Mary Margaret smiles and reaches a hand out for him. Her hand passes through him like smoke. Her eyes go wide and snap to Emma’s. Emma’s heart stops in her chest. Oh shit. Not again, Emma thinks. Her heart breaks. He’s so young. He looks so scared. Mary Margaret is quicker than she is to compose herself, leading the boy into the room and turning on a kids TV station.

“I found him wandering the hospital,” he tells her when the boy is out of earshot. “I’d seen him a few times in the last couple of days but I just assumed he was visiting.” They cast a glance at him, sitting in his jacket and scarf watching what Emma is pretty sure is Power Rangers. “Then today I saw someone walk through him,” Killian tells her, and Emma feels tears well up in her eyes, remembering her first days as a ghost, how terrifying and lonely it was to wander unseen and unheard.

“I haven’t been able to get a word out of him,” he says, running his hand through his hair and scrubbing it over his face. “I know there’s a lot going on but I didn’t know where else to bring him,” he admits and Emma wraps her arm around his waist.

“No, you were right to bring him here,” she tells him, squeezing. “You did good,” she says, echoing his words from months ago. Killian looks at her, hopeful. “We’re gonna help him,” she promises.

The boy doesn’t say anything. For three days he stays in the house, wandering, watching TV, staring out the window. He’s lurking, Emma can’t think of a kinder word for what he’s doing. He hovers around the house, always in earshot but he always scuttles off when one of them tries to acknowledge him or speak to him. He’s like a little bird, fluttering around and easily spooked.

One night, when Leo’s wailing is particularly bad, Emma finds him staring at the bookcase. “Do you like books?” she asks him and the boy jumps, whirling around, immediately defensive. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothes, taking a small step forward with her hands up at her sides. “I like books too. I didn’t used to, but Killian, the guy who found you, he gave me a couple of really good ones to read.” She’s not sure what she’s doing or trying to accomplish but the boy is looking at her with interest and she feels a small spark of hope that maybe she’s reaching him a little bit.

“This is one of my favorites,” she says, reaching for a small hardcover with no jacket and taking it down from the shelf. “It’s about a little boy that never grows up. It has magic and fairies and even pirates,” she tells him and his eyes light up slightly at the mention of pirates. Emma smiles at him encouragingly. “Do you want me to read it to you?” she offers, heart racing in the hopes that he’ll say yes.

He looks at her for a long minute, eyes flitting back and forth between her face and the book before finally, he nods, and Emma tries to stop the huge smile from spreading across her face.

“Okay,” she says and leads him to the couch. The two settle on it, the boy still keeping nearly a foot between them and Emma opens the book and starts reading. “All children, except one, grow up..”

She reads him the entire book, start to finish and as the sun comes up and Leo’s screams seem to have started quieting, she turns the last page. “The End,” she says and looks down at the boy who she can’t help but notice has closed the distance between them slightly throughout the story. He gives her a small smile and she returns it.

“Do you want to read another one?” she offers and he shakes his head, quickly reaching for the book and opening it back up to the first page. Emma freezes. Holy shit. He touched the book. He picked it up and flipped the pages back and now he’s ever so subtly nudging it closer to her. She doesn’t want to show her excitement. He doesn’t seem to have noticed his new corporeality and she doesn’t want to jinx it. Focus on what you want. She remembers telling Killian. Okay. Books. This kid wants books.

She’s just started reading again when Killian comes down and finds them almost snuggled up on the couch. He gives her a slightly surprised smile before the boy notices him and jumps up from his spot, scurrying to the other side of the room. Killian looks between them, confused and a bit hurt, but when David and Mary Margaret follow suit, the boy ducks out of the room entirely.

“What was that?” Killian asks her. Emma shakes her head, she’s not even sure.

“We need to go to the bookstore,” she tells him. He frowns.

Two nights later, the boy has gone back to avoiding all of them and Emma is beginning to worry that that night was a blip. As she lays in bed with Killian, the two of them listening to the wails of baby Leo, they try to find a way to get through to the boy.

“I think… I think he’s afraid of me,” Killian says softly and Emma wants to wrap him up in her arms and banish those self-deprecating thoughts.

“He’s afraid of everyone,” Emma tells him, running a hand along the hair at his temple. “Wouldn’t you be? I mean we don’t even know what happened to him - he might not know. And now he’s in a home full of strangers and walking through walls half the time.”

Killian sighs. “You’re right. I just… I want to help him. I brought him here and now I feel like I’ve just let him down.”

“You haven’t let him down. He needs time. And you brought him here. That was the best thing you could have done for him,” she insists.

He sighs again. “I -” he pauses. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He sits up alert and she follows suit.

“Nothing. It’s quiet,” he says.

He’s right. It’s dead quiet. Leo’s wailing has stopped. Emma looks at him with her heart in her throat before they dash to the baby’s room, adrenaline and panic racing through their veins. She’s pretty sure Killian is about to burst into the room, knocking the door off its hinges when she stops him, a hand on his arm.

“Wait. Listen,” she says and he pauses, both of them leaning closer to the door. It’s faint, but the sound carries through. A voice, small and quiet and young. She can’t make out what it’s saying but her heart starts to race in her chest for a completely different reason. She looks at Killian who looks as shocked as she is before he gently nudges the door open.

There, sitting on the floor next to the crib is the boy, book open in his lap as he reads out loud to the baby - the baby who isn’t crying, the baby who is listening raptly, eyes slowly drifting shut. Emma takes Killian’s hand, unsure of what else to do, should they go in? Should they try and engage him? Or should they leave the two be and stay out of it?

He’s talking. Okay, he’s technically reading but this is the first time Emma’s heard his voice since he got here and relief floods through her. She can see the same relief reflected in Killian’s face and he lets out a soft chuckle.

The reading stops suddenly and the two turn to find the boy, watching them with wide eyes. He looks like he’s about to get in trouble and it breaks Emma’s heart. What happened to you? She wonders not for the first time. She shakes it off, loosening her posture and trying to relax everything about her, make herself as unthreatening as possible. She looks to Killian who already has the pose perfected, he’s had years of practice trying not to be the monster people perceived him to be.

“Hey, kid,” she says softly, not wanting to wake the now sleeping Leo. “Whatcha reading?” she asks casually. The boy hesitates for a moment before holding up the book for her inspection. Treasure Island. Emma smiles. “That’s a good one. Have you read it before?” she asks. He shakes his head. She looks at Killian and he smiles encouragingly. “You’re gonna love it. It’s got pirates!” His eyes light up and Emma almost laughs. “You like pirates don’t you?” she asks and the boy nods vigorously. She does laugh this time. “Yeah, I like pirates too.” She gives Killian a small smirk and he returns it. “You know… Killian was a pirate,” she says and the boy freezes, wide eyes flashing to Killian in shock and awe.

He stares. “Really?” he asks, voice full of wonder, and Emma’s heart practically leaps out of her chest.

***

“You know,” Emma says later, after Killian has regaled the boy with a few of his more PG pirate tales and gone off to see if he can find any of his old pirate things to show the kid, leaving the two of them alone. “You're really good with Leo,” she tells him. “None of us had any idea what to do about his crying. But you figured it out. You must be pretty smart.”

The boy shrugs, looking at the baby for a long time and Emma has just resigned herself to accepting that she’s not going to get anything more out of him when he speaks.

“A lot of the places I stayed had babies,” he says quietly and Emma’s heart starts racing in her chest.

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, prodding gently. “What kind of places?”

“Different homes,” he says like it’s nothing. “Sometimes there were lots of us all in one place. The babies used to cry a lot. They liked it when I read them stories.”

Emma feels all the blood leave her chest and settle in her stomach. Homes. This boy was a foster kid. He was like her. She remembered what that was like, being in houses full of kids, all of them dirty and neglected. The crying babies were the worst. They never stopped and nobody ever came to check on them. She looks at the boy, really looks at him and that’s when she sees it, that look in his eye, the one she’s seen so many times looking back at her in the mirror, the one she’s seen once or twice in Killian’s eyes as well. That look you get when you’ve been abandoned. The look of an orphan. She clears her throat in an attempt to get the emotion out.

“You must be a really good story-teller then,” she tells him and he smiles proudly. “You know,” she starts, “I grew up in a lot of different homes too.”

He looks at her, a little vulnerable. “You did?”

“Yeah. Some of them were really nice and I had really cool people taking care of me,” she tells him. Then, more hesitantly, “Some of them weren’t so nice though,” she adds and the boy looks at her, recognition and understanding in his eyes.

“Yeah,” is all he says looking back down at the book.

“Hey,” she says softly, reaching out for his hand and smiling a little when he doesn’t pull away. “This is one of the good ones. The people here, they took really good care of me.” He looks at her attentively. “We’re gonna take really good care of you too, okay?” she promises. He doesn’t say anything but he nods and some of the fear finally leaves his shoulders. “Can you tell me your name?” she asks tentatively.

He watches her for a moment, deciding. “I’m Henry.”

She smiles. “It’s so nice to meet you, Henry.”

Emma glances up, her hand still wrapped around his smaller one and spots Killian standing in the doorway, smiling at her. His face is soft, a fondness and love shining through. And pride, he looks proud of her. ‘I love you,’ he mouths at her and she smiles. ‘I love you too,’ she mouths back.

He makes his way carefully into the room and Henry glaces up at him with a brief moment of fear before he looks to Emma and he relaxes again. Killian tries and fails to hide his smile as he takes a seat on the floor with them, a small chest of his collections in his hands. He watches fondly as Henry looks through the trinkets he’s amassed over the years, excited about each one. When he’s looked at every single item and received an explanation of its origin and function from Killian, he settles back down with the book in his hands.

Emma looks at him then at Killian. “Should we keep reading?” she suggests and Henry nods. He looks up at Killian, holding the book out.

“Can you read it?” he asks.

“Aye,” Killian answers, voice cracking slightly on the word like he’s trying to swallow down a lump of unexpected emotion.

Henry smiles, handing the book to Killian before scooting over to crawl into Emma’s lap. He sits there, waiting expectantly as Emma and Killian share looks of overjoyed shock over his head. Gently, Emma wraps her arms around his small frame, holding him snugly against her chest as Killian starts to read. Maybe they can’t have a baby, she thinks. Maybe they can’t be parents and raise a child they brought into the world. But maybe, maybe this is close enough.

#CSSNS #captain swan #snowing #cs fanfic #csff #cs fanfiction #being human au #just human

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