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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 5 months

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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 27: It's a Hell of a Christmas

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: T

Word Count: 8462

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 28 29 30 31 32

This fic was written for the CS Secret Santa event in 2022. It’s Emma and Killian’s first Christmas together following the Final Battle. After spending a happy family day together, they relax before the tree and Emma asks Killian about his favorite Christmas memory. His answer surprises both of them

CS Genre: Season 7 missing scene

1 week before the first Christmas following the Final Battle

Killian sighed in contentment as the sofa beside him dipped and Emma curled up beside him. Wrapping his hooked arm around her he pulled her to himself and gave her a quick kiss before she laid her head against his shoulder.

It had been about as close to a perfect day as he’d experienced in a long time. He’d woken up, as always, in his wife’s arms, smiling as she softly snored, burrowing into his warmth. After taking a few moments to simply enjoy the comfort, he’d carefully maneuvered out of the bed. He’d learned quite early in their marriage that a man was taking his very life into his hands when he was foolhardy enough to wake Emma before she was ready.

After a pleasant morning spent with Swan and her lad, she’d shoed the two of them out of the house, citing the fact that Christmas was fast approaching and she needed to wrap presents in peace without prying eyes

“I thought kids were bad, when it comes to looking for their hidden Christmas present,” she’d said with a grin, “but you, Killian, have them all beat.”

He’d grinned, leaning down to give her a loud, smacking kiss, before straightening and raising one eyebrow. “Pirate,” he stated simply.

She laughed, shoving him toward the door.

“Don’t forget my parents are coming over for dinner tonight,” she’d said, “and then they and little Neal are helping us trim the tree.”

He’d promised to return in plenty of time to help with dinner preparations, and then after one last lingering kiss (prompting Henry to make exaggerated gagging sounds behind them), he and the lad had taken their leave. They’d hardly walked a block toward town before they were met by Emma’s father and little brother.

“You guys get kicked out of the house too?” Dave asked.

“Aye,” Killian said with a nod. “It seems the Charming and Jones men are due for another of those–what did you call them?--guys’ days.”

And so they’d spent the afternoon enjoying the snow and the company–helping the lads build a snowman, waging an all out snowball war (which the Charming’s had won handily–but only because neither he nor Henry had the heart to toss a snowball anywhere near three-year-old Neal. Killian smiled as he recalled the tiny lad’s peals of laughter as his snowball connected with Henry’s shoulder and Emma’s lad had staggered, clutched his heart and then dramatically fallen to the ground), and then retired to Granny’s for some much appreciated sustenance.

“Well, I suppose I should get this little guy back home for his n-a-p,” Dave said as mid afternoon approached, making sure to spell the word he knew would result in a mutiny from his little lad, “but we’ll see you in a couple hours for dinner.”

It had been a pleasant evening with the family, as they set up the Christmas tree, trimming it with twinkling electric lights and bright, colorful baubles. Henry, with great fanfare, had presented him with a new ornament to mark his first official Christmas as Henry’s step-father. Killian groaned good-naturedly as he’d opened the box to reveal a small likeness of his Disney counterpart. He’d played up his disdain at the assassination of his character, before placing the ornament on prominent display.

It had been an ordinary day, spent engaging in ordinary family activities, and Killian wouldn’t have changed a moment of it.

The Charmings had remained until it was time to put the little prince to bed, and then they’d taken their leave, with many promises for more festivities in the coming days. Soon after, Henry had taken his leave, as he was due to spend a few days at Regina’s

“It really is a pretty tree, isn’t it?” Emma asked, as they lounged on their sofa looking up at the brightly lit fir in question.

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “A lovely tree, and a lovely evening.”

“Can you believe it?” she asked. “Our first Christmas together as a married couple and we get to spend it with no looming crisis hanging over our heads, no villains threatening us.”

“I rather think I could get used to this ‘Happy Beginning’ business we’ve found ourselves in,” he’d agreed.

Emma laughed, reaching up to absently run her fingers through his hair. She was so affectionate now, never passing up an opportunity to give him little signs of her love, and he found it utterly delightful.

“You must have a lot of stories from past Christmases,” Emma continued with a grin. “After all, you’ve celebrated like a million of them.”

“Oy!” he stated with mock offense, “It couldn’t have been more than two hundred fifty.”

She laughed joyously, and he grinned, turning to give her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “So what was your favorite Christmas, Killian?”

He thought about it for a moment, several memories running through his mind like one of those moving picture shows Swan and her lad enjoyed watching of an evening. One rather surprising moment stood out above all the others.

“You’ll think me mad,” he said finally, “but I think my favorite Christmas was actually last year.”

Emma sat up and looked at him with astonishment. “Last Christmas? But last Christmas we were in…”

He nodded. “Aye, quite so. Who would have believed my favorite Christmas memories would occur in the Underworld?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everything hurt. Everything. His bones, his muscles, his sinews; he'd swear even his hair hurt if that were possible. Hades may be a bloody bastard, but never let it be said he wasn't skilled in the art of torture.

It was nearly Christmas. Killian likely wouldn't have marked the occasion, save for the festive elf costumes Hades insisted his demons wear as they went about their masochistic ministrations.

The demons themselves had heartily enjoyed themselves, singing Christmas song parodies as they whipped him and burnt him with hot pokers so brutally it had taken everything within him to keep from screaming in pain.

We wish you an awful Christmas,

We wish you an awful Christmas

and a hellish New Year!

…

Lord Hades is bringing the pain!

He sees you when you're sleeping

He knows when you're awake

He don't care if you've been bad or good,

He'll still throw you in his lake!

And so, it seemed he would. Angry that he couldn't break Killian, angry that despite it all, Killian refused to extinguish that last spark of hope he'd learned to foster, thanks to Emma and her family, Hades had decided to stamp it out of him in the only way he could--by lowering him bit by bit into the sickly green lake in which he would finally lose himself forever.

He supposed it was only just that it should all end this way. After his centuries of villainy he deserved nothing better. Once he was finally gone and lost forever, Emma and her family could return and build a happy life for themselves free of the pain and suffering he brought to everyone who came in contact with him.

His heart lurched at the thought of Emma. How he loved her! For one bright, shining moment, he'd allowed himself to believe they could be together, that he would achieve the happiness he'd fruitlessly searched for for so many decades, but then it had all gone to hell…literally.

The crane lowering him into the River of Lost Souls lurched downward yet again, and Killian focused on her, on his Emma. He was determined she would be the last thing he thought of before he could think no more.

"Killian!"

He would swear he could hear her beloved voice, but it was clearly a last trick of his deluded mind.

"Kilian," she said again, softer this time, tenderly. "Hang on. I’m coming for you. I got ya."

And then she was there holding him, freeing him from the chains, cradling him in her lap. Killian couldn't bite back the soft groans as his injuries complained of the contact.

The hope and joy Hades had failed to root out of him flared to life for a brief moment, but then reality set in once again.

"I told you to let me go," he said. "You shouldn’t be here; no one should."

She gave him a wry smile as she cupped his face, then gently swept the bangs from his forehead. "I never listen."

He smiled in spite of himself. "You’re impossible."

She grinned in response. "And you love me for it."

And gods but he did. More than she could ever know or comprehend. Soon enough he would have to send her home, protect her from himself and the absolute misery he brought to everyone with whom he interacted, but for now, for this one bright shining moment, he could do naught but enjoy the comfort her presence brought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that evening, promontory beside the lake of fire

“Liam! Please! Hold on!” Killian pleaded, holding onto his brother’s hand with all the strength within him.

If there had been any question at all before, it was gone now. This was well and truly hell.

Everything was crashing around him. Everything. His entire world was imploding, everyone he loved facing unimaginably horrific fates, and it was all his fault.

After rescuing him from the River of Lost Souls, Emma had poofed him back to the Underworld version of her home. She’d taken a seat on the musty sofa, calling him over to join her, patting the seat beside her.

“Come, sit down,” she cajoled, “Let me look at you.”

His wounds ached and throbbed. It was hard to breathe; hard to think; hard to keep from crying out with every movement. He couldn’t imagine what he must look like, his visage marred from the beatings he’d endured.

“Are you sure you want to?” he said wryly. “Hades sort of knocked the handsome out of me.”

She grinned playfully at him. “No one’s that powerful.”

Were their situation different, he’d have flirted back, made her laugh with his nonsense, but presently it was all he could do to shuffle over to the sofa and collapse beside her.

No sooner had he taken his seat than Emma waved her hand over him, and it felt as though a shower of pure, warm sunshine washed over him, taking with it the pain and injury and leaving him whole. Even yet, the strength and power of her magic astounded him.

For a moment, Killian felt nothing but relief.

And then reality set in yet again, as it always did in this terrible place. Emma was here, in hell itself, because of him, because of his weakness. Waves of self-loathing like nothing he’d ever experienced washed over him.

She leaned in toward him, lips moving toward his. He pulled back, turning his head. He was unworthy of her love, unworthy of anyone’s love.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, pulling back to get a better look at him.

“It’s just…” he began, struggling to even put into words the depths of his hatred of himself and what he’d done. “A lot has happened between us.”

“What’s the problem?” she asked.

How did she not see it? How was she still looking at him with love? Agitated, he got to his feet and paced away from her.

“I’m the problem,” he bit out. “Emma, you were the Dark One for six weeks and only gave into the darkness out of love. I plunged in head first in a second for revenge. I was weak.”

“Not in the end!” she insisted.

A single moment of heroism didn’t make up for centuries of villainy, and he well knew it. “You raised the bar very high, Swan. The fact is, I don’t measure up.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, her voice insistent. “If you didn’t, would I have come all the way down here to try to save you?”

She would, and he knew it, because she was good. She was a hero. He was anything but.

“That’s my point. I’m not sure I deserve saving.”

Their conversation had been cut short in the most unexpected way–by the arrival of his brother Liam. What had followed were a few blessedly joyous and peaceful hours, as Killian introduced his first true love to his second. The two best people he’d ever known, together in one place. Despite his guilt and misery, he couldn’t suppress the joy the meeting brought.

But even this was destined to crash down around him.

It started with Emma’s superpower telling her something was amiss with Liam. Something had happened between the two of them, but Killian didn’t know what it was; didn’t want to know what it was.

He didn’t understand how Emma could think Liam, the most moral and straight-laced man Killian had ever known, could be anything but on the up and up, but she was quite convinced.

The moment Silver’s crew had shown up and proven Emma right had been the most disorienting moment of his life. It felt as though he were suffering from vertigo, his entire world turning upside down as the horrible truth settled in around him–Liam had lied to him, and not only that, he had entered into a deal with Hades, allowing the entire crew to be lost at sea in order to save Killian.

My fault, my fault, my fault! The words echoed in his mind like a mantra.

If it hadn’t been for Killian, Liam would never have fallen. Killian wasn’t merely cursed, he was the curse. He infected and destroyed everyone around him.

Everything had moved quickly after the horrible revelation, and Killian had been so shell-shocked he could do nothing but move with the inexorable tide.

Silver’s crew had marched Liam and himself to the lake of fire, intent on making the brothers Jones walk the plank, but their intentions were upended by the arrival of Hades himself.

Liam had, once again, attempted to shield Killian from his just punishment, and the result had brought them to the moment they now found themselves in–Liam slipping inexorably toward the lake of fire, Killian more terrified than he’d ever been. He couldn’t lose Liam again. Not now. Not like this.

“Liam! Please! Hold on!”

“I’m sorry brother, for all I’ve done,” Liam shouted above the flames threatening to consume him. “Can you forgive me?”

It wasn’t even a question. Like Emma, Liam had only fallen for one reason–love of him. His guilt was quite misplaced. “Yes, but that’s not what’s important. You need to find a way to forgive yourself.”

“I can’t, not after what I did to you.” The look in Liam’s eyes made Killian’s heart sink like a stone. “The only way to make amends is to pay the price.”

And then Liam let go.

Shear panic and aching horror took over, as Killian reached down, trying fruitlessly to stop what was happening.

But the panic was short-lived. A moment later, the flames disappeared to be replaced by a serene sea. Liam rose above all of it upon a little rowboat, a smile gracing his lips.

Killian felt the tears prickle behind his eyes, tears of relief this time. “Liam! You’re safe!”

Liam’s smile widened. “Yes, it appears I am. I suppose this is the sacrifice I should have made long ago. I can finally depart.”

Killian looked beyond his brother. Where once had stood the rocky wall of the cave, now was nothing but open waters and a port city which appeared stocked with all the provisions Liam would need for his next mighty adventure.

Liam had truly redeemed himself, and now his own personal paradise awaited him.

“Then go. All of you,” Killian said, gesturing to the remaining crew, “Now that you know the truth, your unfinished business is complete as well.”

“Get on board, men,” Liam said, offering the sailors a hand. “What about you, brother?”

Killian turned away. Liam deserved this. Silver’s crew did as well. He, most certainly, did not.

“I think not,” Killian said finally. “There’s nothing for me but the lake of fire. I deserve no better.”

Liam stepped out of the boat, instructing the first mate to leave without him. Insisting his everlasting reward could wait.

If anything, the pit in Killian’s stomach grew wider, into an abyss there would be no crossing. “Why would you do that?” he shouted. “Why would you delay your paradise? I’m. Not. Worth. It!”

Liam frowned. “That’s nonsense, brother. You’ve become a true hero in a way I never could.”

Killian scoffed. “A hero?” he scoffed, putting every ounce of derision he could muster into those two syllables. “I’m anything but. I’m a pariah to all who meet me. Everyone who has the misfortune of coming into contact with me is worse off–much worse off–for having known me. You would all be better off if I flung myself into that lake of fire, perishing once and for all.”

“You really think those who love you would be happier knowing you burnt to death in a lake of fire?” Liam asked softly. “Emma? Her lad? Me?”

Killian glanced aside. “Well, maybe not. Maybe it would have been better if I’d never been born.”

Liam was silent for a moment, thinking. “That’s an idea,” he muttered to himself. “What do you think, Zeus? That could work.”

Killian’s brow furrowed. “What are you on about?”

“Done, Killian,” Liam said, clapping his hands together. “You’ve never been born. You don’t exist.”

There was a flash of light, a clap of thunder, and then all went silent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For a moment Killian merely looked at his brother.

“Pardon?” He said finally.

“You’ve never been born,” Liam repeated. “You don’t exist.”

“Then…who am I?”

“You’re no one,” Liam said. “Killian, you’ve been given a great gift, the opportunity to see what the world would look like if you’d never been in it. Are you ready to explore? To see the impact you have no longer had?”

Killian wasn’t sure he was ready for this. After all…it was altogether possible everyone was infinitely happier and more fulfilled without his toxic influence.

Still, he’d never been a coward. He didn’t intend to start now. “Very well, lead on.”

They made their way from the cave back to the filthy streets of Underbrooke. The first thing Killian noticed was that the town appeared far more crowded than it had when they entered the cave. Dozens, maybe hundreds of men dressed in uniforms he recognized as belonging to some of the rival kingdoms he had fought as part of the Royal Navy, milled about.

“Who are these men?” Killian asked. “Why have they suddenly arrived?”

“They haven’t suddenly arrived,” Liam said as they began making their way through the crowds. “They’ve been here for more than 200 years–ever since our corrupt king used dreamshade on them.”

“But that’s impossible!” Killian insisted after mumbling a quick apology to a man he bumped into. “We discovered the King’s plans for the dreamshade and we refused to turn over the poison!”

Liam shook his head. “You weren’t around to question the king’s command.”

“But surely you discovered the plant's properties and did the honorable thing,” Killian insisted.

Liam stopped suddenly, giving Killian a long look. “I wasn’t around either. Come. I have something I need to show you.”

Killian followed Liam back to the bar he’d tended since his death, questions swirling in his head.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Liam was behind the bar, but he looked nothing like the Liam Killian knew and loved. This man was young, likely no more than eighteen or nineteen. There was a hard look about him, that of a man who had seen and endured far too much in the short time he’d lived.

A man who hadn’t had any hope.

Killian turned toward his guide, his Liam. “How are you…there and…here?”

“Properly speaking, I’m not,” Liam said. “As I’ve already, for all intents and purposes, moved on, I, like you, don’t exist here. The man you see behind the bar is Liam Jones as he would have been had you never been born.”

“Why is he so…young?”

Guide Liam sidled up to the bar, waving Killian over to join him. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” Young Liam asked in a bored voice, continuing to wipe down glasses as he eyed his new customers.

“I’m rather partial to whiskey myself,” Liam said genially, “and my brother here has a preference for rum, if I remember correctly.”

Young Liam nodded, and had just turned around to fulfill the request, when Killian finally found his voice. “Liam! It’s me!” he said. “It’s Killian!”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

“Killian,” Killian insisted, “your younger brother.”

Young Liam frowned. “Never had a brother. Never had any family save for a mother who died far too young and a worthless arse of a father who sold me into servitude.”

“But–” Killian tried again, “even without me, all of your men, all of those who sailed under Captain Liam Jones loved you. They were a family to us…to you.”

Young Liam laughed bitterly, before leaning in, his lips turned down in a scowl. “I never had any men under my command. I never had command over so much as a cabin boy. I lived a slave, and I died one, just another nameless sot who drank too much and went down in a storm.”

Liam banged two tumbler’s of liquor in front of his patrons. “Now, you can either drink up or get the hell out of my bar. I’ve no stomach to relive my failures.”

When the bartender had turned away to wait upon another customer who had arrived, Killian turned toward his brother. “What is he talking about?”

Liam shrugged. “Without you in my life, Killian, I was utterly rudderless, lacking in any ambition to better myself. I never escaped Silver’s command, never even tried. I died in that storm, Killian. I along with that entire ship of hopeless men.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They consumed their beverages largely in silence after that, Killian’s unease growing the longer he thought about Liam as he would have been had things been different.

Was there any truth to what his brother said? Had Killian’s very brokenness inspired Liam to be a better man?

Taking the last sip, Killian got quickly to his feet, no longer interested in the bar or hearing any more sad tales about the bartender.

“Alright Liam,” he said to his guide, “where next?”

Liam thought for a moment before paying their tab and leading Killian out the door, the words “The Rabbit Hole” illuminated as it swung shut. “I think there’s someone else here you need to see,” he said finally.

Killian followed obediently behind his brother as they walked through the streets of town until they came to the sheriff’s station.

“Some prisoner here you wish me to see?” Killian asked as Liam opened the door and waved him inside.

“Patience, brother,” Liam said. “The purpose of our visit will soon become apparent.”

Killian looked around the office as they entered. So similar in some ways to its Storybrooke counterpart–yet so different in others. This sheriff’s office sported a myriad of medieval torture devices, and at the far wall stood none other than Rumplestiltskin’s cell itself.

It was only once he’d stepped fully inside, that he noticed the man lounging in the swivel chair behind what back home would be Emma’s desk.

“David?” he asked. “What are you doing here, mate? Shouldn’t you be helping the others?”

The man rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before getting to his feet. “Not David. James,” he bit out. “If you’re looking for my brother, he should be back any moment once he finishes his latest utterly fruitless task of arriving at a crime scene just too late to save anyone.”

“What?” Killian asked, trying to make some sense–any sense–out of what was happening.

The man–James–smiled nastily. “Quite a clever punishment Hades devised for him, wasn’t it?” he asked. “My hero of a brother, wanting nothing more than to save his subjects and the people he loves, forced to spend an eternity down here never quite able to save anyone.”

“But…but why is Hades punishing him?”

James looked at him as though he had two heads. “Because that’s what the Lord of the Underworld does–punishes those poor, unfortunate souls who show up at his doorstep after their demise.”

Killian’s heart sank. “David’s dead?”

“You new here?” James asked. “Of course he’s dead. Only way people end up here. Now is there something you need, or are you just here to annoy me?”

“We’ll take a seat outside and wait for David’s return,” Liam said, ushering Killian to a very uncomfortable bench in the hallway.

“How? Why?” Killian asked after a moment of silence.

Rather than answer, Liam pointed toward the doorway, a little bell ringing as a very dejected David stepped through the door.

Killian noticed it immediately, the blackened veins traveling from his chest up to cover his face. “Dreamshade,” he whispered.

Liam nodded

David gave them a look as he walked past, but there was no recognition in his face at the sight of them. Too overwhelmed by what he’d just seen to think straight, Killian didn’t even attempt to call out to him.

Just before the office door closed again, Killian heard James greeting his brother. “Ah, David. Back from another unsuccessful rescue mission, I see. There’s a mountain of paperwork for you on your desk. It’s grown by a foot since you left. Should keep you nice and busy until the next crisis you can’t avert.”

“But this is wrong,” Killian said after a moment of silence. “All wrong. David should be alive. Water from the springs of Neverland saved him!”

Liam shook his head. “You weren’t there to save him, Killian,” he said quietly. “Being resourceful, Emma and her family found a way to Neverland and succeeded in saving the lad, but without you to save him, David died of his dreamshade poisoning.”

The pit in Killian’s stomach widened. Wrong, wrong! This was all wrong!

“How did the Lady Snow–not to mention Emma and Henry–handle David’s passing?” Killian asked, not entirely sure he wanted the answer.

“Again, perhaps it’s best if I show you,” Liam said.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam led him this time to a building with a big display out front and a sign proclaiming it to be the cinema.

“This is one of those places that projects those moving pictures Emma and Henry are so fond of, isn’t it?” he asked, after Liam purchased two tickets from a bored teenager at the ticket booth.

“Indeed,” Liam said, peering at the tickets and heading toward the theater indicated, “but as with other establishments here in the underworld, the theater serves a bit of a different purpose than it does back on earth. The theater allows Underworld residents to catch a glimpse of those they left behind when they died.”

The lights in the room dimmed, and blazoned across the huge screen in front was the single word “Storybrooke”. A moment later, the screen changed, and Killian found himself looking at the Charmings’ flat. Snow sat at the kitchen table, a full bowl of cereal and an untouched cup of coffee in front of her.

She looked terrible. Dark circles under her eyes proving she hadn’t been sleeping. Her hair hanging dull and lifeless. Her eyes–her eyes were the worst of all. They were dead, hopeless. It was a startling sight, seeing the woman usually so optimistic looking so defeated.

“Gone,” she muttered. “They’re all gone. I’ve lost everything.”

Henry took a seat beside her, his eyes troubled–not only at the sight of his grandmother, but also, it seemed, with his own grief.

“Grams, you have to eat something,” Henry said, his voice wobbling slightly. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t.”

Henry’s distress seemed to snap Snow out of her stupor, at least temporarily. She pasted a false smile on her face. “You’re right, Henry,” she said before forcing herself to take a spoonful of her cereal. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

Henry shrugged, digging into his own bowl. “It’s what family does.”

“Where is the child?” Killian asked. “Little Neal, where is he?”

“There is no baby Neal,” Liam said simply. “Killian, with David perishing on Neverland, the little lad was never conceived. Like you, he does not exist.”

Killian pulled in a quick breath, aching for Emma’s mother. She’d wanted so much to have a second child, had loved her son to distraction. Her loss was palpable–although Killian hardly knew how one could miss someone they’d never had or known.

“You see, Killian,” Liam said as the screen went to black and the house lights came up once again, “everyone’s life creates a ripple, and without that ripple, nothing is ever the same.”

Killian waited for a moment, expecting the scene to change again; there was one last person he was desperate to see.

“Liam, why didn’t the moving picture show us Emma?” he asked, somehow both needing and dreading the answer. “Where is she?”

Liam gave him a long look before blowing out a breath. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes!” Killian said insistently. “Show me Emma. Show me my true love.”

“Very well,” Liam acquiesced, “but I warn you–you’re not going to like what you see.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian resumed his seat in the Underworld theater, steeling himself for the sight Liam assured him he would not like.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked, “didn’t you say you wanted to see Emma?”

“Aye,” Killian said slowly. “I had assumed we would once again need the moving picture machine for that. After all, if I was never born, Swan would have never come to the Underworld after me.”

Liam shook his head gently, his eyes sorrowful. “I think you need to come with me.”

Killian felt his heart drop, a sense of foreboding washing over him as the implication of Liam’s request sunk in. Surely Emma was not down here. Surely.

And yet, as Liam led him deeper and deeper into the underworld, that sense of foreboding only continued to grow. When Liam led motioned for him to enter the cave where Killian knew Hades’ most sadistic torture chamber sat, it all became too much.

“No!” he moaned, taking a step back. “She can’t be there!”

Liam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know this is difficult, Killian, but you must see this.”

Killian wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run. If Emma was in this chamber, he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. “Please, brother. Please tell me this isn’t real. Please tell me she’s not here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Liam said gently. “Come, we must hurry. For the moment Hades and his minions have let her be, but we mustn’t be caught when they return.”

For another long moment, Killian resisted, but finally, realizing Liam was right, no matter how horrific, he must know the truth, he nodded.

The first thing he noticed upon entry into the cave was the intense, overbearing heat. There was no relief, no respite. Then came the overwhelming stench of sulfur. For a moment, the darkness was so absolute, so oppressive, he couldn’t see anything, but as his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light, he noticed a single, flickering candle along the back wall–the wall where Hades had chained Killian when he was in the midst of his worst tortures.

The sight that met him would have brought him to his knees if Liam’s strong arm hadn’t been there to support him.

“No!” he shouted, the sound echoing off the cave walls.

For it was indeed Emma who was chained to the wall, her face so bruised and cut and swollen as to be almost unrecognizable. Her hair hung limp around her, damp from the sweat born of the oppressive heat and the physical trauma. Hades had stripped her of her signature red leather jacket, and Killian could see cuts and bruises all along her arms. One arm, in fact, hung at an odd angle, giving evidence of a nasty break. Her jeans were tattered and bloodied.

In short, it appeared she’d suffered every torment he had, and perhaps even more. He had to save her. Had to!

Killian rushed toward Emma, gently cradling her head and brushing a strand of hair from her face. He murmured her name and words of comfort and he eyed her restraints, trying to determine how best to loose them.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked in a voice she was obviously trying to make sound defiant. Instead, it merely sounded exhausted. Hades was so very close to breaking her, and Killian wanted to rip out his entrails and strangle him with them.

“It’s Killian,” he said. “I’m going to get you out of here love, just as you did for me. You had to know I love you too much to leave you here to suffer.”

Emma scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Just how stupid do you think I am, Hades?” she asked in a voice dripping with scorn. “You think I’m some naive, damsel-in-distress, starry-eyed teenager who’ll fall for any line a handsome stranger throws my way? Hardly. I grew up real quick on the streets and learned that love is a lie sold by greeting card companies. It’s certainly not in the cards for the Savior. So just stop with–well, with whatever you’re trying to do. Get back to the torture or leave me the hell alone.

“Swan–” Killian started, before he was interrupted by a noise in the corridor.

“Killian, we’ve got to go,” Liam said, grabbing at his arm. “Someone’s coming and we can’t be caught here.”

Killian pulled his arm free and tried to hack at the chains holding Emma. They wouldn’t budge.

“It’s useless, brother,” Liam insisted, grabbing at him again. “The chains of hell cannot be broken. We’ve got to go. Now!”

It went against everything inside of him to leave Emma there, leave her to Hades’ devices, but Liam was right. There was no way to free her. Finally he nodded, following his brother out of the cave and through the streets of town until they reached what was once Underbrooke’s version of Emma’s house. It was different now, fallen into complete disrepair–windows broken, wood rotted, cobwebs hanging from every surface.

This house was the physical manifestation of everything he was feeling now. Everything, everything was crumbling in around him.

“Why?” Killian moaned in anguish, falling to his knees. “Why is she here? She shouldn’t be here! I should!”

“You don’t exist,” Liam reminded him, getting to his knees and placing a comforting arm on his shoulders. “She couldn’t make you a co-Dark One. You weren’t there to take all the darkness on yourself and sacrifice yourself to end it. Emma had to do that herself.”

“No!” Killian moaned again.

“And I think you know why Hades is making her torture so much worse than anyone else’s if you truly think about it,” Liam continued.

“She’s the savior,” Killian said, his voice breaking. “She defeated Hades in a way no one else ever could.”

Liam nodded. “She did,” he agreed, “and she did so because she is good and valiant, but she is also broken. Without you, she never again found love. She was never able to allow her heart to heal and her walls to come down. She was a light to all around her, but she was never blessed with that light for herself.”

And suddenly it all began to make sense. In his long life, Killian had done many terrible things, but he’d also had a positive impact on others. His life had mattered, and its absence left a tremendous hole.

“We are none of us fully good nor fully evil,” Liam continued, as though reading Killian’s thoughts, “but every one of us is important and necessary to so many people. Our impact is something we may never know, but it is vital, and when one of us is missing from the fabric of time–the resulting tear leaves the garment irreparably harmed.”

The tears began to flow, and Killian let them, making no attempt to stop them or wipe them away. He wanted to fix this. He needed to fix this.

“Please brother,” he said through his tears, “help me. I want to live again!”

Liam smiled. “Done!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

There was no flash of lighting, no crack of thunder this time. Nothing earth shattering happened. One moment they were in the broken-down shell of the Underbrooke version of Emma’s house, and the next they were back in the cave where this whole thing had started. Even so, Killian knew it had worked; he could feel it. All was back to the way it should have been–well, as close as anything could come in this terrible place. His life was restored to the fabric of time. Joy bubbled up.

As Killian’s eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cavern, he noticed the dinghy docked to the cliff, the peaceful waters in which it bobbed, the pleasant port in the distance that was to be Liam’s eternal reward, and a touch of bittersweetness mixed in with his joy. No doubt the time of parting with his brother was almost upon him.

“Not quite yet, brother,” Liam said, once again reading his thoughts. “This vessel will be waiting for me in due course, but it’s Christmas Eve. I can see nothing wrong with celebrating this one last holiday with my brother and the family he’s amassed for himself.”

Killian’s smile widened. “You’d put off paradise for me?”

“Of course,” Liam said. “Haven’t you learned by now I’d do anything for you? You, little brother, are worth it.”

Killian wrapped his arms around his brother, feeling the tears rush to his eyes once again. He’d always known his brother’s first statement was true, but now, maybe for the first time in his life, he was beginning to believe the truth of the second as well.

After a long moment, Killian stepped back, clearing his throat. “Younger brother,” he corrected gruffly.

Liam laughed. “And, if I don’t miss my mark, there’s someone else out there who would also do anything for you; who also believes you’re worth it. Perhaps it’s time you go to her.”

Emma’s beloved face came to mind, and a rush of love and longing filled him. He’d left her on a rather bad note, his self-loathing pushing her away. He wanted–needed–to make things right, to let her know how very much he appreciated her coming here to save him.

“Will you not come with me, Liam?” he asked.

Liam chuckled. “I rather think your reunion is something I don’t need to be privy to. I’ll return to the loft, spend some time with your Emma’s son. Perhaps we can plan and start preparations for our Noel celebrations. You and your love can meet me there.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian rushed back to Swan’s Underbrooke house, his heart leaping to see it whole and reasonably intact, as opposed to the broken down hull he’d seen last. It was further proof that all was back as it should be.

He found Emma standing in the drawing room looking confused and slightly out of sorts.

“Hook!” she said, as he rushed toward her. “Where the hell have you been? First you and Liam left, and then Henry ran off…somewhere.”

There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell her, but he started by simply giving her a long hug, which she returned warmly.

When he pulled back enough to see her face, it was obvious his gesture, while not unwelcome, had certainly done nothing to banish her confusion.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said finally. “You were right about Liam. He destroyed those pages because of a deal he made with Hades years ago, a deal that almost got us thrown into that boiling sea.”

Her eyes widened and her grip tightened on his arms. “Are you okay? Where is he?”

“He, uh, sacrificed himself,” he said, struggling to find the words to tell her what had happened to him–to both of them–over the last few hours. “But his sacrifice helped a crew we once sailed with. They finally moved on thanks to him.”

Her alarm grew. “Did he move on too?”

Killian shook his head. “Not yet. A boat is waiting to usher him on when he is ready, but he wishes to spend Christmas with us first–it is, after all, Christmas Eve.”

He didn’t miss the slight look of unease in her eyes, which she quickly masked. “That’s–that’s good,” she said, a bit too cheerfully.

“He was wrong about you, Swan,” Killian said, “and he knows it. I think one reason he wished to remain was to have an opportunity to apologize to you and make amends.”

Her smile became far more genuine. “There’s no need, Killian. He was just trying to protect you. I get that.”

“Nevertheless,” Killian said, “I need no protection from you, and now he knows that.”

They were silent for a moment, merely enjoying the quiet and peace of each other’s company. Finally Emma looked around. “So if he didn’t move on, where is he? Didn’t he come back here with you?”

Killian grinned. “He returned to your parents’ flat, hoping to conspire with the lad to make our Christmas one to remember–at least as far as is possible in this hellish place.”

They shared a smile, but then Killian grew serious, looking at her with intensity. This was important; he needed her to hear him. “But he helped me to see the truth before he went. I’m glad you came down here, Emma. Perhaps I do deserve saving after all.”

She lit up, her face showing a joy he hadn’t seen since he’d gotten down here. “Does that mean when this is all over, you’re planning to come home?”

When this is all over. It was a stark reminder that there were still substantial obstacles they must face before they could return to their white picket fence life, but face them they would. He was sure of it. Not only would they face them, they would win, and their happiness afterwards would be all the sweeter from the struggle they had to endure to get there.

“Yes,” he answered definitively. “Everything Liam did was to ensure that I had a future, and I damn well intend to have one.”

With that, he swooped in for a long passionate kiss, the likes of which he’d dreamed about ever since this ordeal began.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Storybrooke, Present Day

Killian toyed with the ends of Emma’s hair as her head lay on his shoulder.

“And then we returned to your parents’ flat–or what passed for it in that bloody place–to find Henry and Liam had made a valiant attempt at decorating for the festive occasion.”

Emma chuckled. “I remember. The only tree they could find made Charlie Brown’s look amazing.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Killian said with his own chuckle, “but I catch the gist. It was quite pitiful. Its sad state only rivaled by the wilted poinsettias and the crumbling mistletoe.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Emma said, “I think the mistletoe still worked perfectly well, if the exaggerated eyerolls from Henry when we made use of it were any indication.”

He chuckled again. “And all your mother could find to prepare for our Christmas feast was grilled cheese on stale bread and PopTarts for dessert.”

“I’ll admit it wasn’t the greatest grilled cheese I’ve ever had, and unfrosted brown sugar cinnamon PopTarts are just wrong,” Emma said, “but I’ve gotta say, I kind of like the menu.”

Killian shot her a disgusted look with a muttered “bloody hell”. She collapsed against him as she laughed.

“However,” Killian said after a moment, returning to the subject at hand. “It was a pleasant evening filled with joy and laughter. The two people I love the most in this or any world together and reconciled, your family–our family–together to support us. It was the very essence of what makes Christmas magical.”

Emma sat up to look at him and there was sadness in her eyes. “But the next evening we had to say goodbye to Liam for good.”

Killian sighed. “It was a bittersweet moment to be sure,” he agreed, “but I got a proper farewell this time, something I was denied when he died in my arms all those centuries ago, and I know he’s in a better place–I saw it for myself. One day we’ll be together again.”

She gave him a stern look. “That day better be decades and decades away.”

He grinned before leaning down to kiss her. “Fear not, Swan. Have I not proven that I’m a survivor? Even death couldn’t hold me forever. At any rate, though we were in an awful place and the decorations and provisions were less than ideal, that was a Christmas that I will always hold in my heart, because I got a second chance, and it’s been sweeter than anything I could imagine.”

They were silent for a moment, and then he heard a small sniff beside him. He leaned over to see tears in Swan’s eyes. “Love, whatever is the matter?”

“I had no idea, Killian,” she said after a moment, “no idea you went through all that. You never told me about the visions Liam showed you.”

He shrugged. “There never seemed to be time; we were always moving from one crisis to the next, and I didn’t want to upset you with my own internal crises.”

She sat up again, looking into his eyes. “Killian, we’re true love, husband and wife,” she said, “We should help each other through our crises. Don’t ever feel like you have to keep anything from me because I might find it upsetting.”

He smiled tenderly at her, cupping her cheek and letting his thumb caress her face. “Nor you with me, my love.”She nodded. “And for the record, Killian, you have nothing left to prove. You are a good man, and all of us are better off for having you in our lives. Don’t ever doubt that.

NEXT CHAPTER->

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