sons of love and death, 3/13 {CSSNS 23}
Summary: After the Final Battle, Killian Jones had finally settled into his happily ever after with his wife and family. Until a new foe arrived in Storybrooke: the infamous Dorian Gray, who looks rather familiar—one might say identical—to the pirate, and he’s on a mission: to claim the powers of the Dark One for himself. There’s only one problem: the Dark One no longer exists. What follows is a journey of vengeance, revelations, magic, and finally facing down the darkness within himself that Killian thought he’d finally put to rest. [roughly canon divergent from 5B, though set post-canon]
A/N: Back again with the next chapter of this year’s @cssns story! Some revelations in this update...hope you like it! (Forever thanks to the best beta, @optomisticgirl!)
rated M | 4.7k words | AO3 | 1 | 2
The man—not-Killian, Emma was calling him until they found out his real name—had fallen silent during the quick drive to the station, not even affected by the siren screaming (both in warning and from disuse). He made no complaints as they ushered him into the other cell—the one that didn't have half-melted bars. He only slumped listlessly to the cot and tilted his head back, eyes closed, in a defeated manner. She almost felt bad for him, to see him so distressed, until she shook her head to remind herself that it wasn’t really Killian.
"So, gonna tell us your name yet?" David asked casually.
The man didn't open his eyes. "Dorian. Dorian Gray."
"Like the picture?" It slipped out of Emma's mouth without thinking, and suddenly two sets of eyes were on her in varying degrees of surprise. "What? I read." (And she’d seen the movie with Ben Barnes because, well, Ben Barnes, but that wasn’t as relevant at present.)
Dorian sighed. "Yes, just like the picture. Although Mr. Wilde’s version of my tale is far from the truth."
"Aren't they all?" David scoffed.
"So what is your story, buddy?” she asked, crossing her arms and stepping closer. “I thought you wished on a painting for eternal youth so you could go on a lifelong bender."
"Parts of that. I can attest to the desire for youth and debauchery; but my reasons were far different, and I had a hand in casting the spell myself."
A chill went down Emma's spine, but she didn't let it show. “Sounds like some pretty dark magic.”
“Well, I learned from the best,” he sneered, with a grin that was far from genuine.
“Who?” she demanded.
“Why, the Dark One, of course.”
“Rumpelstiltskin?” That didn’t seem in-character, but she always seemed to forget the man’s paternal leanings, even if he was kind of her ex-father-in-law.
Dorian shook his head. “Zoso, his predecessor. He raised me.”
“You were adopted?” David asked, probably not as nonchalantly as he’d intended—but it needed to be asked so they could figure out just where this guy came from.
“I certainly didn’t get my good looks from him,” Dorian scoffed.
“So then—”
“Emma!”
She jumped at the sound of Killian’s panicked voice—actually him this time—and his insistent footsteps on the station’s linoleum. She only just turned around before he was slamming into her in a bruising hug.
“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked, trying to make sure he couldn’t see over her shoulder just yet.
“If you're fine, then yes,” he sighed, burying his face in her hair (good). “Gold told me to come here; I was worried.”
She returned the embrace, but knew she only had so long before either Killian or the prisoner noticed the other; probably better to rip off the bandaid.
When she pulled back, he immediately began to study her face, and his brow furrowed a bit. "Swan, what is it?" he said, worried, no doubt seeing her own trepidation.
Before she had a chance to reply, Dorian interrupted. "What the actual fuck?"
Killian’s eyes darted over, then went wide as he studied the man behind the bars. He opened his mouth a couple times to say something, but the only thing that came out was "Bloody hell."
