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unfolded73 · 6 years

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Since you're taking prompts, maybe a future fic when little Swan-Jones somehow learns a thing or two about dad's past and Killian has to figure out a way to explain it in a way his kid will understand. (I know this is probably random, but it seems like something you would write really well based on other stories of yours I've read.)

My first thought was, I’ve already written this! (A Sad, Sad Place Without You) But I very quickly realized that there are more angles to tell this kind of story from, and no shortage of things for Maureen to find out about. Plus, I was able to use a tiny orphaned snippet of a Charming/Maureen conversation that I didn’t know what to do with, which makes me happy.

FYI, Maureen is my invented Swan-Jones daughter who predates the canon pregnancy, so some of the stories about her are consistent with S7 and some aren’t. Rated G, ~2300 words.

David found Maureen on the swing he’d hung from a big, old tree on the property years ago. She’d kicked off her sneakers, and despite the chilly air was swinging back and forth barefoot, leaning back so that her hair dragged through the dirt, her fists clutching the weathered rope.

“I wondered where you’d gotten to,” he said, and at the sound of his voice, his ten-year-old granddaughter pulled herself upright, slowing with a drag of her heels against the ground. She was dirt from head to toe, as usual.

“I wanted to swing,” she said.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the tree, “I’m glad you’re getting some use out of it. Neal’s too old for it now.”

Maureen narrowed her eyes. “That’s stupid. There’s no reason to grow out of swinging.”

“You make a compelling point.” He crossed his arms. “In any case, your parents will be here to pick you up soon, so you should probably come back up to the house and get cleaned up.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed back with her legs and started swinging again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It must be something, Mo.” He flinched. “Sorry, Maureen.” She’d announced at her tenth birthday party the previous month that she didn’t like her nickname anymore, and wouldn’t answer to it or to any of the other pet names Killian had for her.

She scowled, stopping her momentum again with her bare feet. “My dad killed people, you know.”

David took a startled step back at that non-sequitur. “What are you talking about?” he asked cautiously, not knowing exactly what she knew.

“I used to think being a pirate meant sailing around where you wanted, maybe stealing gold from people who didn’t deserve so much gold.” She screwed up her face, and David could tell she was near tears. “But he was a villain. He hurt people.”

Still uncertain if this was a conclusion she’d drawn about pirates in general or if she’d gleaned specific information about her father, David spoke carefully. “Your father only became a pirate because an evil king caused the death of his brother--”

“I know that story,” she interrupted. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t do really bad stuff though.”

David walked over and knelt on the ground in front of Maureen, gripping the ropes of the swing in his hands. “I know, sweetheart, but your father has been a good man for a very long time. A hero. A man I’m proud is part of my family.”

“Heroes aren’t supposed to kill people.”

A sudden image of his own wife after she’d killed Cora, more distraught than he’d ever seen her, flashed in David’s mind. Heroes aren’t supposed to kill people.

“Did something happen, Maureen? What’s got you thinking about this all of a sudden?”

She scuffed her feet in the dirt, kicking some of it onto David’s blue jeans. “I heard them talking.”

“Who?”

“Mom and Dad. I heard him say he killed his father.”

And mine, David thought traitorously. He’d forgiven Killian long ago for that, but it still struck him at odd times, that his closest buddy, his daughter’s true love, the father of this wonderful girl in front of him was responsible for such a life-altering crime from so long ago.

“I heard him tell Mom that he’d dreamed again of the night he killed his father. They didn’t know I was listening. And I just started to think about pirates, and I realized he probably killed other people too. I don’t know why I never thought of that before.”

“Because he’s your dad,” David said. “Killian’s father was not a good man. He abandoned his own children when Killian was no older than you are now. I know it’s hard to understand--”

Maureen didn’t seem to even hear him and was working herself up into hysterics. “He lived for a really long time as a pirate, he told me. Two hundred years. How can he make up for being a villain by being a hero now? There isn’t enough time!”

David reached out and stroked her cheek, catching one of her tears on his thumb. “It doesn’t work that way. Your dad doesn’t have to balance out the years when he was a villain with the same number of years as a hero before his slate is clean. What matters is that he’s a good man now, and because of that, we forgive him for things that happened in his past. It’s an act of generosity to forgive someone who’s worked to be a better person. An act of grace.”

Brow furrowed, Maureen tried to puzzle that out. “When did you forgive him?”

David thought about that, uncertain how to answer. It had been a gradual thing that happened in stages, with a few rough patches between where they’d started and where they were now, but that wasn’t what Maureen wanted to hear. “Have you ever heard the story of Queen Elsa?”

She nodded.

“When Queen Elsa came to town, she was afraid that the people here had done something to hurt her sister Anna, and it made it difficult for her to control her powers.”

“Ice powers?” Maureen asked quickly, and he could see a spark of excitement in her eyes underneath the worry.

“Yes, ice powers. So for a little while, your mom was in danger, because she was trapped with Elsa, and it was very, very cold.” He took a deep breath. “I was with your dad, and he fought so hard to get her out of that ice. I think he would have chipped at the ice with his hook until he collapsed from exhaustion. That was when I realized how much he loved your mom, and I guess I forgave him then.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was true enough for the sake of what he was trying to communicate. It was certainly one of many times that he’d seen the man’s love for Emma shining out like a beacon in the dark of night.

“And once someone’s forgiven, the bad stuff they did doesn’t matter?” she asked, wiping at the tears on her face and hopelessly smearing her cheeks with more dirt.

“I wouldn’t say it doesn’t matter, but… you move on from it. Maybe you don’t forget. Just like your dad has never forgotten the things he’s done. But you turn the page, and you live on.” He thought about Rumple and Killian, Regina and Zelena. So many people in his life had been granted forgiveness for so much. Perhaps they didn’t deserve it, but in the end, what would it have benefited anyone to hold grudges? How would it have done anything but keep those people back from achieving the good they’d achieved?

Maureen hopped off of the swing, and he pulled her into a hug. “Just know that there are few people in this world that I trust more than your father to protect the people we love. And that’s been true for many years. Okay?”

She nodded against his chest, sniffling. “Okay.”

“All right, young miss, let’s get you inside and cleaned up.” Maureen picked up her shoes and ran toward the farmhouse while David followed after her at a more sedate pace.

~*~

“Okay, Dad. Thanks.”

Killian looked up from his book, seeing Emma in the doorway by their bed, slipping her phone back in her pocket. He sat in the wingback chair he’d positioned next to the large ocean-facing windows of their bedroom years ago. It had become his favorite place to sit of late to enjoy the salt-tinged breeze, even as the temperatures were dropping and it was becoming less pleasant to leave the windows open.

“Hey, is Mo still in the shower?” she asked.

“Aye,” he said, tilting his head toward their bathroom. Their daughter had recently switched from baths to showers, but annoyingly she insisted on using their bathroom instead of the one next to her room. That bathroom creeps me out, she said, although Killian could find absolutely nothing to justify such a statement.

“We’re going to need to talk to her. Dad said she overheard us talking about Brennan last night.” Emma refused to honor the man who’d fathered Killian with the title, choosing to refer to him by his name. She may have never known the man, but it didn’t stop her from despising him.

Killian’s heart plummeted. “Dammit.”

“That’s not all. I guess it got her thinking about pirates and villainy and murder and I don’t even know what all, but she was upset. Dad did his best to comfort her and it sounds like he did a bang-up job, but we’re going to need to talk to her.” She stepped up next to the chair and combed her fingers through his hair, her nails scraping pleasantly against his scalp.

“I knew this day would come eventually,” he sighed. “I just wish I knew what to say. There’s nothing to justify some of the things I did.”

Emma continued to stroke his hair. “Do you want me to be here, or should I let you talk to her by yourself?”

He looked up at her gratefully for thinking to ask. “I think I’d rather talk to her by myself unless you think that would do more damage.”

“Of course it won’t.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

His daughter appeared from the steam-filled bathroom a few minutes later, wearing baggy, plaid pajama pants and a plain t-shirt, her hair a wet and uncombed riot. She had a drawer full of pink and purple nightgowns and girly pajamas -- gifts from her Grandma Snow that she had never worn.

“Would you like me to comb your hair, love?” he asked gently, seeking any sign of her emotional state on her face. He expected Maureen to say no (these days she wanted to do everything herself), but she nodded.

Killian reached over and grabbed Emma’s brush off the dresser, beckoning his daughter closer with his hook. Without a word, she positioned herself with her back to him, and he sat forward in the chair and began to gently work the tangles out from the bottom, his hook pressed above where he was brushing to keep from pulling at Maureen’s scalp.

“I fear I’ve made an error with you, darling, telling you so many exciting stories about being a pirate and leaving out the less savory aspects of my former life,” he said, clearing his throat around the lump that was already forming. The last thing in the world that he wanted was for any of his past mistakes to cause his daughter pain. He’d die a thousand deaths to spare her that if he could.

Maureen’s shoulders tensed but she said nothing.

“I can’t lie to you; I was a villain, and I made many mistakes in service of seeking vengeance against someone who had wronged me.”

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she supplied. She didn’t know Rumple; he and Belle and Gideon had left Storybrooke to travel the realms before Maureen had been born. And of course, Maureen had asked Emma years ago why her father had only one hand. Emma had told as sanitized a version of the story as she could, just as he had once done the same when Maureen learned that he’d died. Too many terrible tales haunted their pasts, he thought.

“I hated my father. He abandoned me and Liam when we were boys, leaving us indentured to a ship--”

“What’s ‘indentured’?” she asked.

He sighed. “It’s almost like being a slave, but the difference is there is a chance to buy your way to freedom, although it’s very difficult.”

Maureen whirled around. “You were a slave?”

“Not exactly, darling, but near enough.” He coaxed her to turn around again so he could continue working on her hair. “I never forgave my father for that, although perhaps I should have. So when the chance arose and killing him would get me closer to my goal, I accepted a devil’s bargain and I orphaned your other uncle Liam.” He left Regina’s involvement out. He didn’t know when or if she might return to Storybrooke, but he didn’t want to bias his daughter against someone who was an integral part of the family. “He was a bad man, but it was a mistake and I regret it.” Most of the tangles gone, he ran the brush down the length of Maureen’s hair. “I regret many things that I’ve done, and I work every day to be a man worthy of this family. Worthy of being your father.”

“You are,” she said in a small, trembling voice. Setting the brush aside, he coaxed her onto his lap so that he could hold her. She didn’t fit the way she used to, all long limbs and angles, and he shuddered to imagine the woman she would start to bloom into in only a few short years. His days of holding her like this were numbered.

“I apologize that my past deeds have made you upset. And I apologize that I wasn’t more honest with you.” Her wet hair was cold against his cheek, and he turned and pressed his lips to her head.

“It’s okay, Dad.”

“I love you, Mo.”

“Maureen,” she corrected, but there was no heat in it, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

“Maureen,” he responded, hugging her back, his eyes squeezing shut against tears that threatened to spill over.

“I’m glad you’re a good man now.”

“Me too, love.”

#maureen swan jones fic #daddy killian fic #grandpa charming fic #cs ff #captain swan ff #my fic #my prompt fic #once-uponacaptain

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