Because Milah and Killian deserved a goodbye …and Milah just deserved better. Here’s a bit of canon divergence from 5x14.
Killian and Emma stood side by side, close enough for the leather of their jacket sleeves to brush, as Milah said hello and goodbye to her grandson for the first and only time. Emma wanted so desperately to grab Killian’s hand, the solid warmth of it calling out to her just inches away, but it wasn’t the time or the place. She skimmed the back of her hand against his knuckles anyways.
“Henry,” Milah said, testing the name out in her mouth. She was a tall woman, confident in her height, but now she crouched down slightly to meet Henry at eye level, studying him. “You look just like my Bae, you know.”
Henry’s mouth quirked up in his secret smile, “Yeah, I know.” A beat later. “So, you’re technically my grandma and my step-grandma, huh?”
Milah’s eyebrow arched, in a way that was all too familiar, and she rocked back on her heels a bit. “I suppose I am,” she deduced, eyes grown wide as she leaned in to talk to Henry as if it was the weirdest thing in the world. Which…Emma supposed it was, but God. When had her life gotten so convoluted that it had to take her a second to process just how fucking weird a situation was? She looked away.
Henry just laughed, which for a teenager consisted of a harsh blow of air through the nose. Milah smiled closed lipped.
“I wish I had gotten to know you, Henry.”
“Well, there is someone waiting over there that I think wants to get to know you, too.” He nodded encouragingly toward the light starting to form on the other side of the rock bridge. Milah stood up straight and dusted imaginary dust off her thighs. She fidgeted with her scarf.
“Do you think…do you think that he’ll forgive me?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Henry leaned in closer this time, shot a quick glance back at Emma, “But between you and me, I think he’ll be more than happy to have you back.”
Milah smiled broadly this time and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Thank you, lad.” When she glanced back to where Killian and Emma were standing a few paces away, there were tears in her eyes. “You said you saw Baelfire? He’s really there?”
Emma nodded. It felt like there was sawdust in her throat, “Yeah. He is.”
“And you’ll take care of my- your boys?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll take care of our boys.” She managed a watery smile and took a deliberate step away from Killian to allow him his good bye. They had already had their reunion. A tight embrace and wide grins and more than a few tears. There were many murmured words, too, but Emma stepped out of her foyer and into the yard with everyone else to give them the privacy they deserved. Killian’s eyes had locked with hers as she left the house, no words had to pass between them to understand what the other was saying.
Now Henry slid up next to her, and he was tall enough that Emma could rest her head on his as she pulled him into her side.
“Good bye, Killian.”
“Good bye, Milah.”
They embraced again, a tight, fierce thing, and she kissed his cheek as she finally drew back. “I am glad you are finally getting the family you deserve.”
“Likewise, love.” Killian’s voice shook slightly. Emma thought he wasn’t able to say much more than that, but it was all Milah needed to turn around and start her journey to the other side of the cavern, with its brilliant white light and soft crashing waves. Killian was back at Emma’s side, gripping her hand like a lifeline. She squeezed back.
Milah stopped midway across the bridge and spun around abruptly. “Rumple’s new wife, Belle, is it? Take watch over her, will you?” It sounded less like a request and more like a command. One that Emma was more than willing to fulfill, even as the guilt crept in. She was telling Belle the truth when they got back; one way or another.
“Tell dad we love him!” Henry called out and Milah smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“I most certainly will.”
She turned back around and the light grew softer, even as it glowed brighter. Milah’s voice was awed when she murmured, “What an awfully big adventure.” She let out a delighted laugh, and with one more step, was out of sight.
HOLY MOLY GUACAMOLE (W/ CHIPS ON THE SIDE) I HAVE 4K FOLLOWERS!! Jeez, I never thought I’d reach such a milestone of followers, ever. T___T; Every single one of you is amazing & I honestly wish I could hug each every one of you to thank you personally. Thank you for tolerating me & still loving this messy garbage multifandom dump ground I call my blog. ^^;
Blogs under the cut because the list is really long. Lmao :) Also, I may or may not have forgot blogs (I do follow like 450+ blogs afterall ) so if I follow you & you’re not listed, I’m sorry but I still love your blog okay!! <3
This whole situation and how some people made fun of it when smaller blogs were expressing how they were feeling in no offensive to the bigger blogs makes me not want to read their stories anymore, it's really sad that a community that is supposed to be loving and safe would react like that with someone expressing their feelings
ive seen a couple of people make fun of it or just simply roll their eyes and talk about how over it they are but that’s not okay with me? that’s mean. that’s telling these ppl “fuck ur opinion, what ur saying isn’t true and it’s stupid and we already dealt with this 4 years ago” like ok? and so this anon is just supposed to be like “U RIGHT!” lmao no
encourage them. continue to encourage them and their work and maybe they won’t call you a clique. idek who is in this “clique” tbh lmao but it just seemed mean to me.
but ive said this before and i’ll say it again - yall don’t need validation from anyone on the internet!!! do it just because you want to. do it because it makes you happy. ive searched for validation from ppl online for over 10 years and it has only made me unhappy until i realized that i can’t keep doing that anymore.
“He’s always had a thing for old women,” his mother would joke. She’d call him the patron saint of the lonely. He could sit outside and spend hours chatting with anyone who just wanted to talk. “Even five minutes of your time can make someone’s day,” he’d tell Tom and Anabel.
Back in Georgie’s attic, he yanks the phone out of the socket and begins scrolling down the names under dialed calls, praying to anyone who will listen. God. Baby Jesus. Saint Thomas the doubter. Saint Whoever, patron saint of losers. Praying, Please, please, don’t let it be true.
She’s grinning and he knows it’s because she’s thinking of Saint Trombal, patron saint of the anal-retentive, coming home soon.
(≧∇≦*) just gonna dump this here before I forget! it’s been a pretty rad end of year for danganronpa, so I look forward to seeing what comes out of 2016! thank you for all the support, everyone! hope you have a wonderful day!