Note: So many men are big babies when they get sick (apologies to any men who may be reading this), so I thought the same could be true for our former pirate. This goes back and forth between Emma and Killian's POV. Hope you enjoy it! ~Steph

...Man Flu: Part 1/1...

~Emma's POV~

Today is our first wedding anniversary. This first year of marriage to Killian has been the happiest of my life.

Minus the last three days, that is. When I said the vows in sickness and health, I never imagined this.

I squeeze my eyes closed as the ringing once again fills my ears. Why did I give Killian that damn bell?! He's been ringing it incessantly for the last two days. I thought it would be an improvement over him bellowing my name every five minutes, but I was sorely mistaken.

Three days ago, Killian came down with a cold. The usual: scratchy throat, cough, runny/stuffy nose. But you would have thought the man had contracted the plague. He hasn't left our bed and complains about every little symptom. Here's a man who has lost his hand, been hit by a car, been stabbed, nearly drowned, been tortured, and actually died. I'm sure in his more than 200 years he's endured even more than that. But somehow the common cold brings him to his knees.

There's a name for this. Man flu. Basically, men act like babies when they become even slightly sick. Apparently, my brave, strong, resilient pirate isn't immune to such an affliction. And now I must also suffer.

The bell rings again, followed by a pitiful moan of "Emma".

"Coming," I grumble, as I head up the stairs.

I find him in our bed, the comforter pulled up around his neck. Tissues are strewn everywhere. His hair is sticking up in all directions and his nose is red. His blue eyes are watery.

I come to stand before him, hands on my hips. "You rang?"

"Love, do you think perhaps you could close the curtains? I'm afraid the sunlight is hurting my sensitive eyes."

I bite my lip, but nod. "Sure."

I walk over to the window and pull the curtains closed.

"Not quite that much. I enjoy a bit of light."

I feel my fists clench as I pull the curtains open a little, nearly pulling them off the rod with my vice-like grip.

"Better?" I ask.

"Perfect," he says, offering me a weak smile. "Thank you."

"Can I get you anything else before I go?" I ask.

"You're leaving?" he croaks.

I sigh. "Killian, I've been waiting on you for three days. I have a job, you know. I'm surprised this town hasn't been destroyed by monsters yet."

"My apologies for being so much trouble," he mumbles.

I roll my eyes. I know what he's doing and it won't work.

"Look, you have your cell phone right there. If you need me, just call and I'll be back in no time at all."

"I don't want to be a bother," he mutters. "I'm sure I can fend for myself in my weakened state. After all, I've cared for myself most of my life."

I roll my eyes again and walk over to him, placing a kiss on his lips against my better judgment. I don't really want to risk getting sick, but a kiss usually placates him for a bit.

"You'll be fine. I told you. It's just a cold."

"I beg to differ. I feel as if I am on my deathbed. It must be scurvy."

"For the thousandth time, it is not scurvy."

"With all due respect, love, you aren't a doctor."

"True, but I do know how to google."

"What?"

"Look stuff up on the, as you would say, computer box."

"Oh. Proceed."

"And you have none of the symptoms of scurvy. It's also very rare in modern times, mostly occurring in poor countries due to malnutrition. What you have is the common cold."

"There's hardly anything common about it. I don't see why I can't be given some medicine to cure this infernal disease."

"Because there's no cure for the common cold, which, by the way, is not a disease. You just have to ride it out. You can relieve the symptoms like we have been doing with over-the-counter drugs, but there's not much else you can do."

"I suppose I'll just suffer then."

I wait for him to acknowledge our anniversary, but he's so delirious from the meds and distracted by his constant whining, that I am pretty sure he doesn't have any idea what day it is.

I try to hide my disappointment, as I hook my thumb in the direction of the door. "Ok, I'm going to go now. Call me if you need me."

"Goodbye, love," he says as I exit the room.

…

~Killian's POV~

I miss Emma the moment she leaves. I always miss her, but I am especially missing the fact that there is no one to care for me now. If I ring my bell, then no one will come.

I have decided the common cold is far worse than any other affliction I've ever faced. Being tortured in the Underworld is starting to sound preferable right now.

I sigh. I'm also going mad with boredom. Being confined to this bed for three days is absolute hell.

I look at the television box. Perhaps there is something on to distract me from my suffering. Where is the small television box that changes the channels?

I look on the bed, but don't see it. I need Emma. I need my wife.

...

~Emma's POV~

"Happy anniversary," my dad says the minute I walk into the station.

"At least someone remembered," I grumble.

My father's eyes grow wide. "Hook forgot your first anniversary?"

"I wouldn't say so much forgot as has no clue what day it is. He's still sick and the meds are making him delirious. He's also being a huge baby."

Just then, my mother walks into the station carrying a paper bag.

"I can only assume you're talking about Hook."

I nod. "Yup."

"No surprise there. Men are such wimps when they're sick."

"Hey!" my father objects.

My mother chuckles. "Oh come on, David. You're the worst. Remember when you had strep a few years ago?"

"I couldn't swallow."

"I found you lying in the fetal position on the bathroom floor."

He shrugged. "It was painful."

Mom hands me the paper bag. "Chicken soup for Hook. Hopefully, it will help him recover more quickly."

"I hope so. I'm not sure how much more I can take."

Just then, my cell starts ringing and Killian's name pops up on the screen.

"Speak of the devil." I say, as I answer the phone. "Hi, Killian. What do you need?"

"I can't find the television box."

"It's that big black thing hanging on the wall in front of you."

"No, the small one. The one that changes the channels."

"You mean the remote control?"

"Aye."

"Maybe it fell on the floor."

I hear him groan as he apparently peers over the edge of the bed.

"Ah, there it is."

"Good."

"But it's out of reach."

"So get out of bed and get it."

"I'm far too weak and I feel rather lightheaded."

"You're crazy if you think I'm coming home to pick up the remote for you."

"Please, Swan. I'm going mad with boredom."

I sigh heavily. "Fine. My mother made you some chicken soup so I guess I can bring that home for you too."

"Thank you, love."

I hang up the phone and face my parents. My mother smiles.

"The things we do for the men we love."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, as I exit the station. It only takes me five minutes to get home.

I enter the bedroom and find the remote three feet from the bed. I pick it up and hand it to him.

"Thank you, Swan," he replies, with a grin.

I place the bag on the nightstand. "Here's the soup for whenever you get hungry. I've got to get back to work."

"You're not going to feed it to me?"

I raise my brows. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm just so weak. My arm feels as if it weighs as much as a hundred barrels of rum."

I let out a heavy sigh, as I remind myself that I love this man; that one year ago today I vowed to love him no matter what. In sickness and health. Stupid vow.

The worst part is I know he would gladly do it for me. Of course, I wouldn't be the huge baby that he's being. Then again, I'm not a man.

But, in the end, I shake my head. "Sorry, I have to get back to work. I can't hang around here waiting for you to be ready to eat."

I place a kiss to his forehead.

"Bye."

"Swan!" he croaks as I exit the bedroom.

…

~Killian's POV~

I eventually garner the strength to sit up in bed. I open the bag and pull out the soup. I peer inside. No spoon. I pick up my bell and automatically ring it. I'm on the second ring before I remember Emma isn't here.

I sigh. I feel the container and the soup is lukewarm at best. I stare at the door, the mere thought of having to go all the way down the stairs to warm up the soup and get a spoon too much to bear. I am far too weak. I need Emma.

...

~Emma's POV~

I am back at work ten minutes later. I had to stop to get a coffee or I didn't think I'd make it through the day. I groan as I look at the huge pile of paperwork that has accumulated on my desk over the last few days. How can one tiny town generate so much paperwork? We stopped documenting the evil doings of villains a long time ago.

I begrudgingly dive in. I'm not working ten minutes before my phone starts ringing. I roll my eyes at my husband's name appearing on the screen again. For a moment, I consider ignoring it. But then I realize I'd welcome any excuse to avoid doing this awful paperwork.

"Yes, Killian?" I say by way of greeting.

"The soup is cold."

"What?"

"The soup your mother made me is cold. And I don't have a spoon."

I rub at the bridge of my nose. "I'm guessing there's no chance of you going downstairs to warm it up and get a spoon."

"I can't even consider it in my weakened state and feeling so lightheaded. Bloody hell, Emma, I'm likely to fall down the stairs if I attempt such a thing."

I rub at my temple. You love him. You love him. He is not acting like himself. In a few days, he will be the caring, charming, cocky former pirate you married. I glance at the mountain of paperwork. Maybe I could use a break.

"Fine. I'll be home soon."

I return home in record time. Without a word, I enter our bedroom and retrieve the soup. I warm it up and get him a spoon. As I am now looking for any excuse to avoid the paperwork waiting for me at the station, I agree to feed him the soup.

He flips on the television as he eats. I notice his arm seems to have gained a great deal of strength back as he flips through the channels at lightning speed. He finally settles on Maury Povich.

I throw him a look. "Seriously?"

"What? This program looks rather interesting. There seems to be a mystery afoot. It says 'Who's the daddy?' in the corner of the screen."

I roll my eyes as I slip a spoonful of soup between his lips. "It's pretty much the same episode every day. Paternity test reveals. It's trash."

He simply shrugs. This particular episode features identical twin sisters who both have babies they believe to be fathered by the same man. The baby girls looked to be nearly the same age as they coo on the laps of their mothers.

Killian lifts his hook and gestures at the TV. "There is no mystery here. They are clearly his offspring. They have red hair just as he does."

"I can't believe you are getting sucked into this," I mutter.

Maury rips open the envelope. "And the test shows that..."

He pauses dramatically for what seems like an eternity as he turns to the man.

"...you are...the father of...both babies!"

The crowd erupts, just as the man hangs his head. The twin sisters jump out of their chairs, a string of curses aimed at him and then each other. Then one twin slaps the other.

"I told you to stay away from my man!" she screams.

"He ain't your man because you don't know how to satisfy him!" she yells and then tackles her twin to the floor.

"Bloody hell!" Killian says, as he stares at the television mesmerized.

I chuckle. "I bet holiday dinners are going to be super awkward now."

He smiles at me and then drops the remote to link our hands together. It's the most natural thing in the world for him and I can't help but smile back, even as I use my free hand to feed him more soup.

Maury finishes and a soap comes on.

"What the devil is this?"

"It's a soap."

"It doesn't look as if they are selling soap, love."

I shake my head. "No, it's a show. It has lots of characters and continuing storylines. Usually about romance and betrayal."

His eyes light up as he turns his attention to the screen.

The female character on the screen slaps the male character across the face.

Killian winces. "What the devil did he do to deserve that?"

"How could you sleep with my mother?!" the actress screams at him. "You're my husband!"

Killian's eyes grow wide and he shakes his head. "This is quite salacious."

I point the spoon at the male character. "Ten bucks she slept with one of his family members first."

Killian's eyebrows shoot up. "Now that would be very scandalous."

Her husband points a finger at her. "How dare you judge me after you slept with my son!"

Killian and I chuckle. "Good call, Swan," he says.

I nod. "The relationships on soaps are almost as screwed up as the ones here in Storybrooke."

"It certainly seems as if they do not value marriage."

I shake my head. "Most marriages don't even last a year on soaps."

Killian squeezes his hand in mine, his expression suddenly growing serious. "Well, love, perhaps we could teach them a thing or two. We will soon be celebrating one blissfully happy year of marriage and I am certain that it will be the first of many."

I drop my eyes. He really has no clue what day it is. He's completely lost track of time from being sick.

"Yeah, it will be a year very soon," I reply softly.

His eyes scan my face worriedly, sensing something is wrong. "Love, are you okay?"

I nod, as I place the empty bowl of soup back on the table. "Yeah, fine. I just need to get back to work."

He bobs his head. "Okay," he says.

I stand and I'm almost out the door when his hoarse voice stops me.

"Thank you for you taking care of me, Emma."

I smile and then turn around. I return to the bed and place a kiss on his lips.

"You're welcome. I know you'd do the same for me."

"I'd do anything for you, Swan," he replies softly.

And I know it's true.

...

~Killian's POV~

The news comes on after the soaps.

"Good afternoon. Today is May 7th. Thank you for joining us."

I stare at the television box. May 7th. No, it can't possibly be. It's only May...Bloody hell, I haven't a clue what day it is! How long have I been in this bed? Can it really be May 7th?

I shake my head and reach for my talking phone. I flip it open and look at the date. My worst fears are confirmed. Today is May 7th. It is our first wedding anniversary.

How could I be such a self-absorbed fool?! I have been married to the most amazing woman for one year, the happiest year of my very long life, and I forgot our first anniversary. Well, not so much forgot, as much as had no clue what day it is because I've been so sick and delirious from the medicine.

But that is no excuse. This incredible woman has cared for me for three bloody days. She just fed me soup! And she never once mentioned that I had forgotten our anniversary. Any other woman would have probably thrown it in my face and refused to lift another finger for me. But not my wife. Not my Emma. I am the luckiest man in all the realms.

I need to make this right. I need Emma to know how sorry I am and how grateful I am to be her husband. How fortunate I am to get to spend my life with her. And how amazing this year has been.

I throw the covers back and, feeling a bit unsteady, force myself out of bed.

Two hours later, I finish setting the table. I've prepared Emma's favorite: grilled cheese and onion rings. I then set about lighting all of the candles that I have placed throughout the lower level of our home. Next, I scatter the dozens of Middlemist flowers on the floor. I had to call in a special favor to acquire those.

Once I finish, I go upstairs and shower. I dress in the tux I wore to our wedding exactly one year ago today. With every motion, I feel myself gaining strength and energy. I'm starting to feel much better. I can do anything for my Swan.

Just as I finish getting ready, I see Emma's car pull up outside. I scramble down the stairs. I stand in the foyer in front of the door. I hear her walk up the porch and then see the doorknob turn. The door swing opens and there stands my beautiful wife.

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open at the sight before her. She stands frozen to her spot.

"Killian...I...what…you...why aren't you in bed?" she sputters.

"Happy First Anniversary, love," I say, closing the distance between us.

Tears appear in her eyes, as I take her hand in mine.

"I...I don't understand. I thought you had forgotten."

"I could never forget the happiest day of my life, Emma." I pause and shake my head. "I am so sorry, love. I hadn't a clue what day it was until the news came on. I didn't realize how long I had been in bed and the medicine and illness made me delirious. Please forgive me."

She smiles gently and then wraps her arms around my neck, placing a kiss on my lips.

"There's nothing to forgive," she says as she pulls back. "Happy First Anniversary, Killian."

I bring my hand up to cup her cheek, my thumb caressing her soft skin, as I look into her gorgeous eyes.

"You have cared for me for three days, Emma. I know I am not the easiest patient. But you took your vows in sickness and health seriously."

"You would do the same for me, Killian. I mean, I wouldn't be as big of a baby," she says with a chuckle.

I laugh along with her. Our laughter soon subsides, as my expression grows serious.

"I have lived a great many years, but I have never in all my years experienced one as happy as this. It is a privilege to be your husband. Getting to wake up next to my wife every morning and have you fall asleep in my arms every night is nothing short of amazing. I never thought I would experience happiness like this. I never thought I deserved it. And perhaps I don't. But I will never take it or you for granted. I am the luckiest man in all the realms to get to call you my wife."

Tears are now streaming down her face as she kisses me again.

...

~Emma's POV~

God, I love this man. I love him with all of my heart and soul. I love him with every fiber of my being.

I pull back and he brings his thumb up to gently swipe at a tear on my cheek. I meet his beautiful blue eyes. The eyes I get to wake up to every morning.

"This year has been the best of my life, Killian. I have never been happier. Like you, I didn't think happiness like this was possible for me. I didn't think I deserved it either. But then we found each other and we put the broken pieces of our hearts back together. And now everyday that I wake up next to you feels like a dream that I never want to wake up from."

"I assure you, it is very real."

I smile and nod. I then watch as he reaches into his pocket and removes a small, rectangular wrapped box.

He holds it out to me. "Happy Anniversary, Emma."

I shake my head. "When did you go shopping? You've been sick."

He smiles. "Oh, I bought this months ago. Any good pirate knows that the best treasure takes time and planning to acquire."

He hands it to me. I unwrap it and open the box, gasping at what is inside. It's a white gold necklace. The pendant is a Swan's head and neck and a hook put together to form a heart.

I meet his gaze. "It's beautiful, Killian. Thank you."

"I searched the one jewelry store in Storybrooke, but they had no such necklace and no means to make it. So Henry helped me find a place on the computer box that could custom make such a necklace."

My eyes grow wide. "You had my necklace custom made online? You really are a modern man now."

He smiles and nods. "I am learning everyday."

I pull the necklace out of the box and place it around my neck. "It is breathtaking."

"You are breathtaking, Swan," he whispers.

I take a deep breath, nearly forgetting that I still have to give him my gift too. I wasn't prepared to do this today. Once I knew he didn't realize today was our anniversary, I figured I would just wait until he felt better and then we could celebrate properly. But, as is his way, he never ceases to surprise and amaze me.

"I have to give you your gift now," I say.

"Love, you're the only gift I need," he replies.

I shake my head. "Oh no. You're not the only one who has been planning a gift."

I walk over to a drawer in the living room and pull out the small, rectangular wrapped box. I walk back to him and take a deep breath, as I hand it to him.

He uses his hook to tear through the paper and then lifts the top. His brow furrows at what is inside.

...

~Killian's POV~

What is this white stick? It looks familiar. I think I've seen it on the television box. Why does it have a pink cross on it?

I can feel Emma staring at me, waiting for a reaction. I meet her eyes.

"Love, what is it?"

She chuckles and pulls the stick out of the box. She then takes my hand and places it on her stomach.

"It's a pregnancy test, Killian. We're having a baby," she says softly with a huge smile.

Now it's my turn for my mouth to drop open and my eyes to widen.

"A baby? We're going to be parents?"

She nods and then I look down at her belly where our hands are joined. A smile spreads across my lips.

"We're going to be parents!"

She laughs and nods, as I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her flush against my body. I kiss her and then pull back, my forehead leaning against my wife's.

"I love you so much, Emma. I can't wait to begin this new adventure with you."

"I love you too, Killian. And I am looking so forward to our future together."

...

~Emma's POV~

He takes my hand and walks me over to the kitchen table. I smile.

"Grilled cheese and onion rings," I say. "You must be a mind reader because the baby and I have been craving these all day."

"I know my wife," he says, then pauses, a grin spreading across his lips. "And apparently our unborn child too."

"How did you do all of this if you were feeling so sick?"

"Apparently, love has incredible healing powers. I am feeling much better."

I snake my arms around his neck. "Is that right? Are you feeling well enough to have dessert first?"

"Actually, the grilled cheese is getting cold. I know you detest cold grilled cheese. And the cake I made is still cooling so..."

I shake my head, as I lower my voice seductively and toy with the buttons on the front of his shirt. "Not that kind of dessert," I say.

I watch as he swallows hard and his eyes darken with desire. Suddenly, he scoops me up into his arms and kisses me.

"Let the grilled cheese get cold," he mutters into my lips, as he carries me to the stairs.

I laugh all the way up as he peppers my neck with kisses. He places me on the bed and hovers above me, his hand caressing my cheek lovingly as he stares into my eyes.

"There's the man I married. I think someone has truly made a miraculous recovery," I say.

"You, my love, are the best medicine."

"Just what the doctor ordered," I reply, as I yank him by the collar so his lips meet mine again.

And let's just say the day ends a thousand times better than it began. I can't wait to celebrate many more anniversaries with this man and our new family.

...THE END...

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I'd appreciate hearing what you thought. ~Steph