125. “You’re the one who left it laying around!”
“I–” Killian faltered. He should have known. The little lass was crying, her mother shushing and rocking her as she rushed to the kitchen. Killian stood there, feeling useless and like the biggest scoundrel in the land. He knew it, he was terrible at this, he was nothing more than a hurtful pirate, a stupid, unthinking, son of a–
“There, there,” Emma murmured. She reached for a dish towel and wet it in the sink, pressing it to the angry blood on the baby’s cheek. Killian didn’t wish to look but it was as if his gaze was inexorably drawn to his daughter; he wanted to hold her, to soothe her, to apologize for the hurt and to consign himself to a hermit’s life where he could never again harm one he loved, never again.
“No harm done, Killian,” Emma said gently. “Look.”
“It drew blood, Emma,” he muttered angrily, guilt and doubt threatening to choke him where he stood. “I should have gotten rid of this cursed thing the minute we discovered you were expecting, I don’t know why I–”
“Killian,” Emma said, her voice placating. She stepped toward him and reached out, but he shied from her touch. “Killian! She’s fine. This stuff happens. She misses you when you’re gone. She probably saw the hook and just–”
“I’m a terrible father, love.” He stepped away and that’s when little Sophie began to wail again. Useless arse, good-for-nothing bastard.
“Come here,” Emma insisted, and before he could so much as protest, the baby was thrust into his arms. Grateful he at least had his harmless prosthetic in place, he took the baby, his eyes welling with tears at the redness on her cheek. His eyes roved over her skin like a hawk, but Emma was right–there did not seem to be any lasting damage. A mere scratch, wouldn’t even scar (though the thought of his little pirate lass sporting a matching scar to his own cheek scratch did fill him with an odd sort of satisfaction). He breathed easy, his heart still heavy but full and filling more as his daughter let out a soft cooing sound, her tiny, perfect little hand reaching out to tug on his beard.
“Da,” she said clearly, and then he was afraid a tear actually did escape, but for different reasons.
“Of course you’d be her first word,” Emma laughed softly. “Mom wins the pool. And you’re not getting rid of that hook. Just…stop leaving it laying around. Your daughter’s too curious, and too much a daddy’s girl.”
Wordlessly, he nodded, heeding Emma’s words, but he couldn’t seem to muster up the appropriate response.
“Da-da,” he murmured to his heart. “Say it again, love. ‘Da-da.’”
“Da da,” she said, smiling his selfsame smile of smug satisfaction.
When Emma handed him his hook later, he put it up on a high shelf, knowing he’d need to find a better place for it when not in use. Sophie’s eyes had followed his movements, and he knew his intrepid daughter wouldn’t be deterred by something so insipid as height once she was of an age to begin climbing.
it’s friday night, send me a drabble prompt thing and maybe i’ll be allterative again
Thanks for the tears. I didn’t really need them on the inside. Maybe they will drain out some of the ice cream calories I consumed after I read the fic. Killian self-loathing is one of the things that kills me. Emma reassuring him is another one. It’s like healthy relationship kink. Which I’m totally into. Seriously though. Thank you.
Tag: Daddy Killian
I wonder how Killian would feel if one of his children told him that they wanted a hook for a hand so that they could be like him? Or said they wanted to be a pirate because dad is/was a pirate.
I imagine his heart would melt into a little puddle but he’d still tell his little prince or princess that he or she should aspire to more.
And Emma would speak up right up and assure the kid, “Wanting to be just like your dad is aspiring to more.” Which would make Killian’s heart melt the rest of the way. 😉
OMG DANIELLE
Well, it’s not totally bbs but it’s damn cute so enjoy the feels!!
If We Lay a Strong Enough Foundation
After discovering her pregnancy, Emma vows to make the most of things, not just with her pregnancy, but also Killian.
A/N- This prompt actually came from my husband, who prompted me to write about Emma discovering she was pregnant for the entirety of 5b. So, here’s to you, panda bear.
“…and Prince Charles and Princess Leia danced around the ballroom, both forgetting their mission in hopes of spending another minute in each other’s arms.”
Emma felt a flutter in belly as she recounted the story of her and Killian’s first dance, the once recorded in Henry’s storybook. She’d read that at around twenty-five weeks, the fetus would begin to respond to familiar voices. She was delighted to find it to be true, her developing daughter moving about with each word she read.
When Emma had been pregnant with Henry, she’d done her best to ignore those sort of developmental milestones, unwilling to grow further attached to infant she knew she would be unable to keep. She didn’t read pregnancy books, and paid little attention to the ultrasounds she’d received when ushered to the prison’s infirmary. Over the years, Emma grew to regret that ignorance, especially after Henry reemerged into her life.
She vowed not to make the same mistake the second time around.
cshappybeginning 