I was worried about posting this because of spoilers but I figured everyone must have seen it, right? It is acceptable to post spoilers now? Anyway! I hope you enjoy. Warning: major fluff.

Worthy

Emma didn't have a family for the longest time. She didn't have anyone to wipe her tears when she cried, or soothe her when she was sick, or hold her when she had a nightmare. Sometimes, in those dark nights, she'd wake up in the early hours of the morning, crying. Her arms would be prickled with goosebumps after nightmares of purple smoke and a sobbing woman with raven hair.

She'd wrap her arms around her and pretend it was her parents who held her. She always managed to get back off to sleep when she imagined that.

As the years went by, she realised that no-one was coming for her. They, her parents, weren't coming for her. She had to grow up fast and learn to think realistically. And the truth was: no-one would abandon their baby at the side of the road if they loved them, or if they had any intention of coming back.

There wasn't any magic in the world, except from the magic she made herself. So that's what she intended to do.

Of course, it wasn't her parents' fault they were cursed. She knew that now. She had a loving family and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

But sometimes she still couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if Mary Margaret had travelled through the portal with her. Or better yet, they never went through at all. The wish world might have given her a glimpse, but it was all fabricated.

That was what she thought of as she rested a hand against her stomach. There was an unspoken promise that the child she carried now would never be alone. Not like she was. Curses would come and go, but they'd never be able rip Emma from her child.

She'd found out she was pregnant only a few hours ago and ever since then, she'd been unable to stop her hand from flying to her stomach. She was always met with surprise when she pressed her palm against her skin, and found it flat. She half expected a slight curve, even though it had only been a few weeks.

It was like she'd been walking around in a daze all morning.

She was going to be a mother.

There was a time when that would have scared her witless, but she didn't feel scared any more. There was a strange sense of peace that came with it, and a determination to do right by her child.

She couldn't help imagining them— would they be a boy? A girl? Would they have her golden curls, or Killian's ebony locks? Would they have his eyes? God, she hoped they had his eyes. They'd break hearts with those eyes, including hers.

She'd tried to distract herself until Killian got home. He was working as the sheriff, and had given her a day off. (God knows she needed one) He wouldn't be back for a few hours. She wished he'd come home now. Her eyes kept darting to the clock; as she carried laundry to the washing machine; as she washed up their breakfast things; as she tried to make a coffee, her hands shaking so much, she could hardly spoon the sugar into the mug. She thought about calling him to come home. He was the boss after all, and could give himself the rest of the day off. Plus, this was of the utmost importance.

But she decided against it. She still needed to work out how to tell him.

She'd thought about doing it with a gift. Maybe she could buy him a little teddy bear, complete with a button brown nose and chocolate eyes. He'd understand instantly who it would be for. She'd thought about telling him for Father's day — it was only a few weeks away — but she wasn't sure she could wait that long.

It would probably be better to just come out with it. He'd be happy however she told him. That, she was sure of.

But then why she did feel the little flutter of nerves at the thought of telling him? It was something they both wanted— wasn't it? They hadn't explicitly said that they wanted to have a baby, but there had been hints. It was only the other week that they'd been shopping for some summer clothes, and she had found him in the baby aisle, fingertips smoothing over a tiny boot. He must have felt her eyes on him because he looked up but she had managed to hide behind the second aisle just in time. When they met up again, it was in the milk aisle, and nothing was said about it.

But she was sure Killian had noticed her eyes follow every baby they ever ran into. Ashley had just had her third child, Jack, and was always taking him out for walks. He was the tiniest thing Emma had ever seen, with a perfect wisp of hair on his perfect head. She had found herself deliberately stopping Ashley in the streets just to congratulate her, and ask her how she was doing.

"Thanks," Ashley had said, a smile on her face. "I'm good. Tired, though. Sean's been working a lot so it's just been me and this little guy." She stroked his head. "But we're both so happy."

"That's amazing news," Emma said, grinning. She was unable to take her eyes from Jack.

"Do you want to hold him?"

Emma was about to say yes, but she glanced back up to see that Ashley wasn't talking to her. Her eyes were fixed on Killian. Emma had hardly noticed him watching Jack, too, with the softest expression she'd ever seen.

"Oh—" He blinked, almost embarrassed at being caught staring. "If that's okay?"

"Sure it is." She gave a bright smile.

Killian took Jack carefully into his arms and, with Ashley's help, managed to get him into the right position, hook and all. The baby looked up at him, blinking his big brown eyes and Killian looked back down at him.

"Hello, little one," he whispered, as he stroked his cheek.

Emma's heart was beating so much, she was afraid it was going to beat right out of her chest. She had never seen him look so… soft before. Of course, he was always gentle with her. Sometimes he held her like he was afraid he might break her, and he always looked at her with love in his eyes. But this was different. This was… Well, she wasn't sure what it was, but it was giving her butterflies.

"So," said Ashley. "Any chance of little pirate babies?"

Emma's stomach flipped. Killian's eyes snapped up at her, wide and alarmed. He was passing Jack back to Ashley quicker than she thought possible, but still carefully. And then he was scratching the back of his ear, averting his eyes, like he always did when he was embarrassed. Emma didn't say anything, deliberately not looking at Killian.

"Uh—" she said.

"Well, actually—" he said.

"The thing is—"

"Um—"

"Oh, think I understand," Ashley said, giving them both a knowing look. She smiled slowly like the cheshire cat, making Emma wonder whether she belonged to the wrong fairytale, and went on her way.

They didn't speak about it, but the unspoken words had hung in the air ever since.

So yes, Emma knew that Killian wanted a baby. And, until she had seen him holding Jack, with that look in his eyes and the gentlest of touches, she hadn't understood how much she wanted that too. When they had started to be less careful with how, why and where they made love, she understood the unspoken words all too well.

It was only a matter of time, really.

Emma tried to find something to distract herself with. She called her mom— but her mom had picked up that something was off with Emma. She was in the middle of a speech about how David had decided to take on gardening — and how truly awful he was at it — when she stopped suddenly and said— "Everything alright?"

"Everything's fine," Emma said, aware of how unnaturally light her voice sounded.

"No… it's not." She could almost hear her narrow her eyes. "What's gotten into you? You're not yourself. You seem… distracted. You didn't even laugh at David trying to make a portal with runner beans."

"I'm fine."

"I'm not leaving this phone until you tell me—"

"That's great, mom but I gotta go. I think that's Killian walking through the door. Yes, I can definitely hear his boots. Anyway, goodbye mom."

"Killian isn't due back for hours yet."

"Okay. Goodbye!"

She hung up the phone. And, just in case Mary Margaret decided to ring back, she unplugged it. If she stayed on the phone any longer, her mother would definitely work out what was wrong— or what was right. Killian needed to know first.

The only problem was, Killian wouldn't be home for a while and Emma was swiftly running out of distractions. She had tried cleaning, she'd tried watching Netflix, but her head was so full of her baby that she could hardly even concentrate. So instead she laid on the sofa, and imagined what it'd be like telling him.

Would he cry?

She giggled to herself. He might cry.

At 5pm she heard the metallic sound of the key turning in the lock. She shot up on the sofa, listening intently, hardly daring to breathe. Sure enough, mere milliseconds later, she heard the door open, and the sound of his boots thudding in the hallway.

She jumped up off the sofa, unable to keep still. The butterflies had increased ten fold. She was so nervous, she couldn't even see straight. Her legs felt close to buckling underneath her, but she took a deep breath and took steps forward.

He was in the midst of shrugging his leather jacket from his shoulders when she approached him. Hearing her, he turned and smiled. "Emma. You okay?" He twisted his hook until it came free and hung it on the peg next to his jacket.

"I'm fine." She folded her arms. "How was work?"

"Boring, actually. Dave came in to see me. That was the most interesting thing to happen to me."

So she could have asked him to come home early.

"I guess that's a good thing, right?" Emma said. "It means we don't have a curse to defeat or a monster to fight."

"Not yet." His eyes danced. "I don't know about you, Swan, but I think we might be in for a quiet life."

"Aye?" she asked, with a teasing smile.

He returned her smile. "Aye."

She was unable to keep the smile off her face as he made his way over to her and pulled her close. "You seem happy." He buried his face in her hair. "And you smell divine. God, I've missed you."

She chuckled as he pressed a kiss to her neck. "It's only been a day."

"Perhaps to you. But to me, it's been an eternity."

She rolled her eyes and pushed him playfully away. "You're so dramatic."

He grinned at that before he made he made his way over to the kitchen and reached immediately for the cupboard, stretching for two glasses, which he set on the kitchen counter. Emma knew what came next: rum.

"Can I interest you in a drink?" he asked, as he poured a splash of rum in one glass.

"Not really. I'm pretty sure drinking would be bad for the baby."

He proceeded to pour rum into the second glass. "Aye, drinking is definitely bad for…" he trailed off, placing the rum down on the counter. "What did you just say?"

"I think you know." Was that roaring in her ears really her heart?

He turned to her, slowly, fixing his eyes on her. His mouth dropped slightly. His voice was soft, barely audible when he said, "You're pregnant?"

"Yes."

For a second they just stared at each other. Killian's hand gripped the counter for support as he breathed out a, "Bloody hell."

Emma's stomach flipped again but in the unpleasant way. Was this not what he wanted? Had she been reading the signs all wrong? Maybe the reason he hadn't brought it up was because he, in fact, didn't want a child.

But then his face broke out into a smile, and she'd never seen him grin so much. She'd seen the same expression in his eyes when she'd agreed to be his wife, both times.

"That's bloody fantastic." His voice was breathless, his smile so contagious she couldn't keep her own smile off her face. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

Leaving drinks abandoned on the side, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her neck. "Oh Emma," he said as he kissed her neck.

She hugged him back, feeling his stubble scratch up her neck, along her jaw, against her cheek as he brought his face up to look at her. His eyes were wide and sparkling, his face pale, but he was grinning so much. He pressed kisses to her cheek, her forehead, the bridge of her nose. She laughed.

"How long…" he asked in between kisses. "—have you known?"

"Only a day—" It was hard to get words out with him kissing her like this. "Killian."

He took her face in his hand, eyes searching her. "And— and how are you? Do you feel alright?"

"More than alright."

"It's a good thing you took today off, love. You'll need to rest."

She laughed. "Killian I'm fine. It's only been a few weeks."

He glanced down, his hand following his gaze until it came to rest, rather shakily, on her stomach. She wondered if he was surprised to find her stomach flat, like she had been. They wasn't any inkling that a tiny human was growing inside her. He looked up at her, eyes wide in wonder, as she placed a hand over his.

"I didn't think, I—" He swallowed. "I didn't think this would ever happen. I never imagined— I—" He shook his head. "I didn't think I was worthy."

She placed her other hand on his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "I love you."

"God, I love you."

He closed the distance between them and kissed her, his hand moving automatically from her stomach to her face, holding it in that gentle way where he thought she would break. He carefully brushed strands of her hair from her face as he moved his mouth with hers, so softly, so gently. It was heaven.

The next few days Emma was giddy with nerves. Killian wasn't helping— he just made her feel even more giddy. Every look she threw at him was met with a wide grin that took over his whole face. She'd raise her eyebrows at him and he'd just shake his head with a, "I can't believe— I—" It was like he could only speak in incomplete sentences.

He became very aware of Emma and what she was doing and how she was doing it every second of every day. He found her in the kitchen, struggling to reach the top shelf, and rushed over to her immediately.

"You shouldn't be doing this," he said, as he took her place.

"What? Get a mug?" she asked, as he placed her favourite spotted one on the kitchen counter.

"You should rest."

She rolled her eyes. "Killian, I'm not an invalid. I'm perfectly capable of doing normal things."

She opened the drawer to get a spoon but stopped mid-movement when she felt him brush her hair to the side. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. "Completely normal things?" he asked, as he pressed another kiss to her skin. She trembled as he continued his path, along her shoulder, stopping just short of her shirt. "Like this?" Then his voice was right by her ear. His fingertips danced under the hem of her shirt.

"I'm pretty sure we don't have time," she said, with a shiver.

"We do if you take the day off. And since you're your own boss…" He kissed her neck again and she had the feeling that if he kept kissing her like that, she'd agree to anything.

…

After, they laid in bed. Killian, who was on his elbow, gazed down at her. She lay still, too boneless to move, thoughts consuming her head. She still hadn't escaped the giddiness that came with finding out she was pregnant, especially not with the way Killian was looking at her. His gaze made her blush.

"What?" she asked.

"What?" he asked. "I'm happy. Aren't I allowed to be happy?"

"You really wanted a kid, huh?" Her tone was teasing, but he frowned, eyebrows pulling together.

"After Milah…" He averted his eyes. He didn't often bring her up. "I thought that part of my life was over. Before you, I didn't think I'd have a chance at another happy ending. With you, I didn't think I deserved a happy ending. A wedding, a child— it was too much to hope for."

Strings of sadness tugged at her heart. "Killian…"

He returned his eyes to her and smiled. "Don't worry about it, love. It's a painful truth, but it doesn't make me sad any more. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my entire life."

"Me neither. And I understand, I really do. After Henry—" She shook her head. "You know, that kid's clever. When I first met him he told me I pushed him away because he made me feel guilty, but he didn't. I made me feel guilty. I spent so many years trying to forget him after what I did. I just couldn't help thinking that I did the same thing to him as my parents did to me; I abandoned him."

"He's forgiven you. I don't think anyone can blame you."

"But I missed it, Killian." She frowned. "I missed... everything. Have I really been given a second chance?"

"We both have."

They fell silent. Then, after a moment, Killian trailed his fingertips down to her stomach. "When my father… abandoned me—" he glanced at her, as if asking permission for his choice of words. "He… left something that couldn't be replaced. He didn't care to find me again. He didn't care to be part of my life." He swallowed. "But I vow to never do that to our child. I'll never be parted from them." His hand flattened.

"Neither will I," Emma said.

"Not by time portals, or curses or anything."

There was determination in his eyes. She could feel it reflected in her own eyes. And she knew what he was thinking; they were thinking the same thing. They were of one mind when it came to this. Nothing would take their child from them. She couldn't fault her parents for sending her through a wardrobe, but this child, they'd never have to go through that. They'd never grow up feeling unloved or unwanted. They'd never have a piece of their soul missing. They would never feel worthless. Not like Emma did; not like Killian did.

The tricky part was working out when to tell people. They wanted to keep it to themselves for a while. Not because they didn't want to tell anyone, but because for now, it was their little secret. They wanted some time to absorb the situation but, more importantly, they wanted something that was entirely their own. When they told other people about their baby, the baby wouldn't be strictly theirs any more.

It sounded silly, especially when Emma said it out loud to Killian, but that was how she felt. He agreed. So they decided to wait a few weeks.

It was nearly impossible to keep the secret. Killian almost blew it on a daily basis. There was one day when David was helping out at the station, after the munchkins had decided to invade to enact their revenge on Zelena. They were like a storm of bees; tiny, stinging and almost impossible to contain.

"C'mon," David had said, after an hour of chasing them. He placed his hands on his hips, surveying the streets. "We'll split up. Killian, you go that way. I'll take the docks. Emma, are you okay to go through the forest? You'll have to be quick; run as fast as you can, alright?"

"You should rest, Emma," Killian said, automatically. "I'll take the forest. You pound the pavements."

David threw them a suspicious look. "Why do you need to rest?"

Emma shot Killian a look but when she turned to David, she gave him a smile. "Uh— I pulled a muscle. Last night. Um."

"What were you doing so late that you pulled a muscle?" The blood drained from his face. "Nevermind. I don't want to know."

It was a close call and it wasn't the only one they had. On a meal out with her parents and Regina, David automatically poured Emma a glass of wine. Killian smacked it out of his hand so fast, the liquid toppled over the table, stained the white tablecloth with red; it looked like blood.

"What was that about?" Regina mused.

"It's Emma," Killian said quickly. "She— uh— hates that wine."

"You didn't tell me that, Emma." David looked hurt.

Emma shrugged. "I didn't realise that was the bottle you bought. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Emma," Mary Margaret said. "Granny will get us another one." Emma couldn't help but notice that her smile was all too knowing. She had to look away from the intensity of her gaze.

The was only the first mistake of the night.

"So shall we order?" Emma asked, grasping for a distraction and a way to get her mother's' eyes off her.

"No need," David said. "You guys were pretty late tonight." His tone was almost accusing.

Unknown to him, they were late because Emma had spent the ten minutes before they had to leave, throwing up in the bathroom. Killian had held Emma's hair back, even though she had told him to—

"Piss off."

"Ha!" he had shouted. "Do you really think I'd abandon you during your time of need? I've seen many worse sights on the Jolly Roger. Nobody has a seafaring stomach like me."

Emma had needed an extra half an hour to take a shower and thoroughly brush her teeth.

"So I've already ordered," David continued. "And I've happened to have ordered your favourite—"

"Double cheeseburger with extra cheese, mushrooms and onion rings instead of fries," Granny said, almost in a monotone. She placed the plate in front of her.

Any other time and she would have been happy to consume such a greasy and satisfying meal. But one look at it tonight, and her stomach turned. She had visions of her time spent in the bathroom and found herself silently praying please not again. As fate would have it, she found herself disappearing halfway through the meal to the nearest bathroom stall.

Killian had followed her almost at once, murmuring something that sounded vaguely like, "Stomach bug."

Thankfully, a stomach bug was what everyone believed. The next day Regina brought her homemade chicken soup— with chilli. ("To give it that extra kick".) David had bought her a big bunch of flowers to make her feel better. Her mother, however, had taken to giving that knowing smile with a, "Are you sure it's a stomach bug, Emma? It came on rather suddenly and you seem alright now."

"That's pretty much what a stomach bug is."

"Are you sure there isn't anything you want to tell me?"

It was then that they knew they couldn't hold it in any longer.

They invited her family over to tell them. Like before telling Killian, Emma was a nervous wreck again. She didn't know why. After all, she was almost completely sure that Mary Margaret already knew, even if David let the majority of things go over his head.

Emma helped Killian set five places; two for her parents, and one for Regina.

"I wish Henry was here," Emma sighed sadly, as she eyed the plates.

Killian placed a hand on her shoulder. "As do I, but I'm sure you'll see him again soon. It'll be only a matter of time before he comes home, hopefully knowing his story."

"You're right." But she still couldn't help the heaviness in her heart. She pushed it away as she thought of tonight and her baby — their baby— that she could feel growing inside her.

She didn't have time to dwell on the feeling when the doorbell rang and in walked Mary Margaret, David and Regina of their own accord. Each held a bottle of wine in their hands. She accepted them happily, knowing she wouldn't be able to drink them. But at least Killian would. He must have been nervous, for he drank quickly; quicker than usual.

He poured everyone else wine, leaving Emma's glass empty.

"No wine, Emma?" Regina asked, with a pointed look at the glass.

She shared a look with Killian. Her face held a silent question; Now? He shrugged. Might as well. There was little point in lying now and telling the truth later.

"Actually—" She swallowed, her stomach bursting with butterflies. "I probably won't be drinking for a while now. I'm— well, we—' She threw a shy look to Killian. "Are expecting a baby."

"You're pregnant?" Regina whispered, almost in awe.

"I knew it!" Mary Margaret said. She stood up from her seat at the table at once and made her way over to Emma, pulling her into an embrace. "I knew it," she repeated. "Congratulations."

Emma hugged her back, squeezing her eyes shut. "Thanks, mom."

When they broke apart, Mary Margaret made her way over to Killian, holding her arms out for him. "Killian. Come here, you," she said with a smile and pulled him into a hug. "Congratulations."

He hugged her back just as tight. "Many thanks, love."

David's eyes were on Emma. He was smiling, one hand braced against the chair. "My baby's having a baby. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Just be happy," Emma said.

"I am happy. Congratulations, guys. I hope they inherit my good looks, since we all know Killian has none."

The room burst out into laughter. And that was how Emma knew everything was going to be alright. She looked around at her family; her parents, Regina and the man she loved, knowing that there wasn't going to be a child who'd be loved more.

Smiling, she took Killian's hand.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked this. I have two ways I was thinking this could go and I haven't decided yet... Maybe you guys could be some help? Either I continue this as little one-shots about Captain Swan baby fluff! In that case, is there anything you'd like you see? Or I was thinking that maybe I could develop this into a MC fic with a whole curse and forgotten memories. Kind of my idea of how I think season 7 might go if Jen was in it, maybe? Let me know what you think?