keep shining your light
title from ‘there’s hope’ by india arie. nothing is mine except for hope. not even killian’s insecurities–i didn’t invent those. thanks to @love-with-you-i-have-everything for reading this and being a source of encouragement and love <3
For the first two weeks after Hope’s born, Killian doesn’t let her out of his sight.
If Emma’s feeding her, Killian’s sitting on the bed next to her, his eyes feasting on Hope’s face or Emma’s. If Henry’s holding her and reciting Snow and Charming’s love story, he’s sitting on the couch next to Henry, arm around him, eyes never leaving Hope’s scrunched up face except to grin at Henry every now and then. If someone else has come to the house to admire the baby or to bring over food for them, he’s either lurking in the room while someone’s holding the baby or holding her himself. Usually he’s holding her. He doesn’t like handing her over.
Killian and Emma don’t go to work for those first two weeks at all; David had, at first glance at the baby, informed her parents that he was well capable of taking care of Storybrooke while they stayed home with her. David, of course, had been thinking of the baby’s health and not Emma’s true annoyance with crises and Killian’s overall fragile mental health, both of which were events worth of David’s consideration. They’re fine with the enforced vacation.
Finally, when Killian’s staying in Hope’s room long after she’s asleep, Emma has to interfere. She wanders into the little room, quotes from the storybook Henry lovingly painted on the walls. “Killian,” she whispers. He’s sitting in the rocking chair, staring through the slats of the crib at Hope. It takes a moment but Killian finally sees her, and he smiles softly and raises his hook toward her in silent invitation.
She takes the hook and walks to him, settling on his lap. They both watch the slow up and down movements of Hope’s tiny body. They had done pretty well in her accidental conception. Pretty little thing, Emma thinks proudly. She snuggles into her pirate’s embrace for a moment but can soon feel both of them drifting off into sleep. “Come on, Killian,” Emma finally whispers to avoid waking the baby. “Come to bed.”
He doesn’t answer, just buries his face in her neck in silent agreement. She stands and pulls him after her. They curl up together in their bed, Killian pulling her as closely as physically possible and Emma tangling their feet together.
“Hope can sleep without you, you know,” Emma says.
“I know,” Killian replies in his gruff sleepy voice. “I just like watching her.”
“Me too,” Emma whispers.