you and me...
So, I saw this gifset by blowmiakisscolin, based on this post by fergus80 and well, this kinda wrote itself. I am 100% on board that beffudled AU Hook very well could have believed that Henry was his son. I took that headcanon and ran with it…
Days, then weeks, passing slowly at first and then all at
once, no nearer to finding her or the whereabouts of Merlin. Every day they try
a new land, helped by Ariel, sometimes even Ursula, always returning to
Storybrooke with nothing but more questions. Finding Camelot abandoned shaking
even Henry to the core, his fierce belief that this was where the answers would
lie being ripped from him and settling the first sign of hopelessness behind
his young eyes. Killian wishes he knew how to help the lad, his fierce desire
to have Henry see him as his family growing stronger, despite the reason he
would ever be so feeling further and further away.
When the dreams start, he tries to find a way to hold on to
the way they make him feel when he wakes, grasping for the shreds of the man
who believed enough to sacrifice it all in hopes of something
better. In his dreams, he doesn’t die. The cold steel of the Prince’s sword
stays on the cobblestones as the man himself struggles to find his footing. The
Evil Snow is rendered powerless by Emma, her light magic reappearing in her
palms as she reaches out to protect him, this
other version of him, who she seems to love despite his incessant bumbling.
And then there’s Henry, who looks at him like a son does a father, with trust
and awe and…love. Henry believes in
this man, teaches him that he is better than this world has written for him and
shows him the path to being a hero. This Killian, he doesn’t hold back from Henry,
stands by Emma’s side as her partner and Henry’s parent, never questions that
this is his place. He is happy, they are happy. They are a family.
But then sleep ends, grim reality rising with the sun and
Emma is still gone and Henry is not his. The ache in his heart for the life in
his dreams grows, fighting against the guilt and self-loathing licking in the corners
each time he traces her name etched into the dagger. He’s holding the jagged
metal in his hands when Henry comes to him, ducking into his cabin without a
knock, but with a fierce look behind his eyes.
“Killian, we have to save my Mom.”
“I know lad, what do you think we’ve been trying to do?”
“No, we have to do
it. You and me.”
“Henry, what are you saying, son?”
“Everyone else has someone, a family to fall back on if we
never find her. They’ve learned to live
without her before, spent years never expecting to see her again. You and me, our
family doesn’t exist without Emma. We need her more than they do. We’ll fight
harder, go to the end of the world for her. I just need you to believe that we
can do it, together.”
You and me, our family
doesn’t exist without Emma.
Killian sees the boy from his dreams in Henry at this moment,
the truest believer, the hero in him looming larger than his teenage frame can
contain. Feeling energized for the first time in weeks, Killian stands and
gives the dagger one last look before locking it away and turning to face the
“I offer my ship and my services, young sir.”