Little Miracle (1/1)
Note: I decided to post some of my old Swan-Jones family one shots on tumblr too, since when I wrote them I was barely using the platform. This one is about the day Hope was born. I hope you like it :)
Summary: Emma and Killian never imagined how much one's world can change in a second, until they held their tiny infant daughter in their arms for the first time.
captain swan family fluff, a few hours after the birth of their baby
She is a miracle. Her daughter. (She needs to get used to saying this: My daughter. It makes her heart do weird things in her chest). She’s been here, her daughter, for less than two hours, and Emma thinks it’s probably the best - less than- two hours of her life.
(She knew childbirth was painful. She’s been through this before. But that was so many years ago and she barely registered what was happening back then. Now everything is crystal clear. And so is the pain.
She’s pretty sure Killian is about to faint just by seeing her hurting. Yet, he stays behind her, holds her hand and whispers reassurances to her ear. She holds onto him so tight and she doesn’t know if it’s an attempt to draw strength from him or out of fear that he will somehow disappear. And then she’ll be seventeen, alone and chained to the bed again.
He doesn’t seem to mind, even if she’s pretty sure she’s about to break the bones of his remaining hand. She tells him between contractions, half-jokingly and he looks at her in the eyes and replies that it would be worth it, as long as they are safe. And that makes her hold his hand even tighter.
He uses his hook to draw back her hair, the cold metal a welcoming sensation against her sweaty forehead. Her skin feels clammy and wet but Killian kisses her brow and tells her she’s the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
He talks to her all the way through. He tells her he loves her more and more as the contractions come closer together. He tells her about their daughter, about how brilliant she will be, how eager he is to meet her, how lucky she is to have a mother like her. He tells her about how strong she is, how much he admires her, how amazingly she’s doing.
They put their joined hands on her belly, talking sweetly to their daughter, encouraging her to come meet them. Her eyes tear up when Killian uses his soft cooing voice, asking her to “be good for mummy, little love.”
When the pain is getting the best of her, her screams tearing his heart in half, he tells her he’s sorry, tells her he wishes more than anything that he could bear her pain himself.
He can’t. He can’t take away her physical pain but with every word, every kiss, every caress, he manages to chase away ghosts of the past that hurt her for decades. He helps with the pain more than he will ever realize.
When it’s time to push, the doctor asks Killian if he wants to watch the procedure and Emma lets out a breath of relief when he says he doesn’t want to leave her, his arms around her tightening. He knows, he always knows. He kisses her cheek and promises her once more that he will always be by her side.
Their daughter comes screaming into the world - and god, not even the most melodic symphony could ever compare to how beautiful that screeching sound is. Emma realizes how crazy her life has become when the flickering of lights once the product of her and Killian’s true love makes her grand entrance, doesn’t even surprise her.
Emma is crying and Killian is definitely crying as he kisses her, muttering words of gratitude and praise and love. She hears the doctor talking, congratulating them, asking if Killian wants to cut the umbilical cord but everything is a blur. She knows nothing will be okay before she holds her. She needs to hold her baby this time, make sure she’s hers and she’s here. Make sure this time is different. She can barely hear Killian explaining urgently to a nurse and before she realizes a pink, tiny, still screaming infant is deposited to her chest. And it’s true love in a second. )
Her thumb is currently trapped in her daughter’s small palm, her grip so strong. (“Strong like her mummy.” Killian said earlier.) She didn’t know babies can do that. She didn’t know many things. She has been a mother, a real mother, for almost a decade but she never had a baby to care for, a tiny person that depends completely on her. It’s enthralling but terrifying too. Maybe that’s why she has counted her baby’s little fingers and toes eight times already.
Everything about her is perfect. The way she breathes so adorably, little puffs of air leaving her mouth, as her chest rises and falls in a way that Emma finds almost hypnotizing. Or the way she scrunches her nose when she’s about to cry, her lips forming the cutest pout Emma has ever seen in her entire life. Or the way she waves her hands like she searches for something, someone. Her? Maybe. She gives her her other hand to hold too, just to be certain. She’d give her everything, everything she ever asked for.
Her daughter has been there for less than two hours, yet Emma is completely and totally in love.
She wonders if her eyes will remain that blue. She knows most babies are born with blue eyes but it often changes as they grow. She does hope their little girl keeps Killian’s eye color. That baby blue that becomes lighter when he smiles, stormy and dark when he’s sad, with the faint golden ring around the iris, the one you can only notice if you’re staring in his eyes too long. And oh, she has.
When she looked into her daughter’s eyes for the first time, she’s pretty sure time stopped. It was when she knew. She’d go to the end of the world for her. No exceptions, now buts. It’s just how it is.
What she loves most is stroking her daughter’s face, tracing every perfect feature with the pad of her thumb. She’s so tiny, so fragile. When she was first brought to her chest she was almost scared to touch her. But the nurse said it’s okay. She’s perfectly healthy. Emma would lie if she said she didn’t feel pride ripping through her at that. Which is silly but ...Does that count as a compliment? Being “perfectly healthy”? The first compliment her daughter received and damn her if she doesn’t feel proud.
She has a tuff of blonde hair on her head and Emma is genuinely surprised she didn’t inherit Killian jet black hair color. She was pretty sure she’d have his coloring, seeing as Henry doesn’t really have much from her. Their little girl surprised her with how much she actually looked like her. Apart from the eyes and her elfish ears -she was in love with these tiny ears- she was her own mini-me. Killian was positively delighted. The nurse commented on how much the baby looks like “mummy” adding that “dad can have his chance with the next one.” Killian’s laughed through his tears -he was crying, of course he was still crying, from the moment she first laid eyes on her- as if this was the most insane thing he has heard. (“Why would I wish for my daughter to look like me when she can take after the person I love most in the world, her radiantly beautiful mother?”)
When the baby starts to whimper Emma shushes her, her fingers dancing over her chest, touching, caressing, every spot of her small body she can find. She’s still red and wrinkled but god isn’t she the most perfect thing she ever had the chance to hold in her arms.
She wants to do so much stuff with her. A lifetime of things. She wants to read and sing to her, she wants to let her taste ice cream for the first time, she wants to take her to the Jolly, Killian putting her on his shoulders as he explains each and every part of the ship. She wants to teach her to walk, and she wants to soothe her fears, and treat her scraped knees. She wants to braid her hair and make her hot cocoa with cinnamon. (She’ll like it that way, right?). But most importantly, she wants to make her laugh. All the time. Every minute of every day she wants to make her laugh.
One of her daughter’s tiny feet escapes the blanket and Emma is quick to cover it again like the air would burn her. It feels so motherly and so...normal. Tucking her in. Caring for her. Making sure she’s warm and happy and well fed. She brings her closer to her chest. She smells so nice. How can babies smell so nice? She’s pretty sure she smells gross. Well, at least the baby didn’t scrunch her nose in disgust, she thinks, smiling.
As she rocks her against her chest, her little girl’s palm goes flat against her collarbone and Emma stills. It feels like she’s caressing her back and if she thinks about it she will cry. Again. Instead, she focuses on counting her fingers once more, just to be sure.
Killian’s gentle voice shakes her out of her daydreaming. He’s standing in the doorway, “Granny’s Diner” bag hanging from his hook. She asked him to get them some food, of course she did. And of course he didn’t deny her. Even if she knew leaving her and the baby for ten minutes must have been hell for him.
“Ten fingers. Ten toes. I counted.”
Open book, Emma, she thinks. Killian sets the bag on the nearby couch, the one where his leather jacket lays discarded, and he slowly walks into the room as if he’s trying not to startle them. His eyes are focused on the bundle in her arms and Emma feels a little selfish for seperating them, even if only for ten minutes. (Now that she thinks about it, the distance between "Granny's" and "Storybrooke General" is definitely bigger, so her adorable dork of a husband must have jogged back to them. Damn, she loves him.)
“I counted too. But...” She trails off, not knowing how to tell him about all the emotions flooding through her, about how counting heir daughter’s fingers, tracing her nose, staring in her eyes, helps keep them at bay. It’s a reminder. She’s here. She’s ours. She’s perfect.
“It’s comforting.” He supplies, giving her his soft half smile, the one reserved only for her.
“I know, darling. I feel the same way.”
His eyes are still red and puffy and Emma knows he probably cried at “Granny’s” too when people congratulated him. One would think he’d be all smug, but no, her pirate is turning to mush when his daughter is as much as mentioned.
“Come here.” She gestures him closer with her free hand. “I’m sure this little one missed her daddy so much. Didn’t you, baby?”
Killian kneels next to the bed, actually kneels, (“I don’t wanna squeeze you both, love. I’m perfectly fine”) and touches their daughter’s cheek.
“Hello, my littlest love.” He coos and then his voice breaks. “God, Emma, she’s so beautiful. Thank you, my love. Thank you.”
Emma carefully bends to kiss his head. He has thanked her probably a hundred times since their daughter came into the world.
“Come sit with us.” Killian shrugs convinced that he’ll somehow make them uncomfortable if he comes too close. “Killian, please.” This does it. He carefully lifts himself up and Emma makes space for him to sit on the hospital bed. It’s not like their king sized bed at home but it will fit them just fine.
His hooked arm immediately goes around her, and she melts into his embrace. It’s been ten minutes and she already missed him.
“Look what she did while you were gone.” Emma says, nodding down. “She put her hand over my chest, on her own.”
Killian looks at their daughter in awe and then kisses her tiny palm, still resting on Emma’s collarbone.
“Clever lass. Always wanting to touch mummy. You take that from me, don’t you?” He strokes their girl's rosy cheek with his thumb while the curved part of his hook goes up and down Emma’s side, stroking her arm.
“Definitely from you.” Emma says, trying hard to hide a yawn.
“You should rest, my love.” Killian kisses her temple. “You did so wonderfully with our girl, you must be exhausted. We’ll be here once you wake, I promise.”
“The food you brought will get cold.” It’s a silly excuse but she really doesn’t want to sleep. She feels weary and boneless but she also doesn’t want to let go of this. Of their perfect family.
“I’ll go bring you more, whenever you desire.”
“No, I don’t want you to go again. Will you stay, until we are clear to go home?” She feels like a child, not wanting to be left alone but Killian will understand, he always does.
“Emma, of course I’ll stay. There’s nowhere else than I’d rather be than by your side. Always. It’s home wherever you are." He looks down at their daughter, whose breathing has now evened out. "Both of you.”
“I love you.” Emma turns to capture his lips, just for a second,before pulling away, their foreheads still touching. "Killian, I know you feel like you need to thank me for her but I want to thank you too. For going on this journey with me, for giving me this second chance. Our little miracle.” She says as they both turn to look at the now asleep baby in her arms.
“Oh, love.” He whispers and Emma uses the hand that doesn’t support their daughter’s back to wipe the tears from his cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“You changed. You showed me love that I never thought was possible for me. And I know you’ll do the same for her.”
“I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. And it still wouldn’t be compared to the happiness you already gave me.”
Emma rests her head on his shoulder and for a few moments, they stay silent, looking at their daughter, marveling at her beauty.
“I can’t believe we made a person.” She says after a while.
Killian, touches their daughter’s small nose, a featherlight caress that shows everything: love, affection, devotion. “The most wonderful person there is.”
“Can you imagine there’s a little one who’ll be calling you daddy in a few months?”
“It’s surreal, love, it’s more than I ever dreamt of.” She feels the tears in his voice, and she is tearing up too. “She’s half you and half me. It’s just ...” The baby moves in her sleep and Killian bends down to kiss her palm. “She holds my heart in these tiny little fingers, Swan. My daughter. God, my daughter.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe it. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever said. Along with “my wife”. Emma, we have a daughter.”
“Yeah.” She says, a faint whisper she isn’t sure he heard. “We do.” This time her voice is stronger, letting it settle in her that he’s right. They made a baby. A person.
She gently puts the sleeping newborn on her shoulder and watches her as she lets out a little snore, getting comfortable in the new position. She rubs circles on her back with her hand, overwhelmed by the desperate need to feel her, to soothe her, to make sure her dreams are beautiful.
She feels like her mum, stronger than she has ever felt anything else in her life. It took her time to open up to Henry, to Killian, to her parents. To accept how she feels, to stop hiding behind her walls. But the baby in her arms, she knows her for two hours and she already feels like she wants to be everything for her. Killian’s hand covers her own on their daughter’s back and she realizes all the twenty-eight years of pain were worth it. She’d do it again and again and again if it led to this.
"It looks like she's smiling." Killian says, his voice low, betraying a smile of his own.
"She is a smiley baby, isn't she? Well, technically I don't know if it is a real smile yet, but..."
"I know what the books say, but Swan, I think she's just ahead of her age. Just brilliant." Emma chuckles. They read all the books together. They read about the "reflex" smiles babies have, even from the uterus, and how they aren't intentional, not until the baby is a few monhs old.
"We can decide it's a smile. We are her parents, no one can tell us otherwise, right?" She says instead. Maybe Killian is right, maybe she's just ahead of her age.
"That we are, love." He kisses the baby's temple. "We are your parents, aren't we, cygnet?"
"Oh my god, Killian, look at this adorable grin. Which is totally your grin by the way." Emma turns from her daughter to him. "I think she knows your voice. Maybe this is a real smile, after all."
"Can we...Can we always do that?" Killian looks like he is struggling to find words, and for him that is rare.
"Do what?" Emma raises a questioning eyebrow at him.
"Make her smile." Killian says the same thing she kept thinking from the moment their daughter came into the world.
"Yeah." She replies confidently, looking at her husband. "I think we can."
Between her and Killian, they can. They loved her, even when she was just two pinks lines on a stick and they will love her till their last breath. A sudden need to tell her, to makes sure their little girl knows how loved she is overwhelms Emma, and she holds her tighter.
“My wonderful girl, you can’t Imagine how much we love you. You are mummy and daddy’s world. We’ll do good by you.” She lets out a breath before continuing. “You’ll never be alone. Not like I-“ She feels a light, reassuring squeeze to her hand and she looks up at Killian who is smiling at her warmly. She shakes her head. No bad thoughts today, no contemplating the past. “Baby, even if I fail in everything else, I promise, I’ll never fail in being your mum. You’re so loved.” She locks eyes with Killian who’s looking at her, at them, like they are the eighth wonder of the world. “So, so loved.”
“Mummy is right, my darling lass. You’re so loved.” Killian bends to kiss the crown of her head. “You’ll always be.” Another kiss on her back, just above his and Emma’s hands. “Our compass.” Another kiss on her fingers. “The star that guides us home.” And finally one to her forehead.
They stay there for several minutes, their joint hands stroking their daughter’s back as she breathes against Emma’s neck.
“Killian, I think I’m getting sleepy.” Emma breaks the silence. She doesn’t want to fall asleep holding the baby, she barely trusts herself holding her when she’s conscious.
“Let me take her, my love.” He puts a strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve some rest. Sleep for a few hours.”
“Yeah...Better do it before my parents arrive. You’ll be here?”
“Aye. We’ll be right next to you.”
“Good.” She smiles. “Let me help you get her.”
It took a few tries for Killian to perfect holding their daughter right after she was born but as Emma told him, that happens to all new fathers. She knew what he was thinking and she made it clear. His hook isn’t a disadvantage, it never will be.
He positions his hooked arm against his chest, creating a cradle for the baby, the end of his hook away pointing downwards. Emma kisses her daughter’s chubby cheek and lays her in his arms. Killian immediately puts his other arm around her to keep her steady, his hand supporting the back of her head like the nurses told them to.
“Hello there, darling.” The change of position must have disrupted her because she starts whimpering. “Shhhh, little love, don’t wake up on my account.” Killian rocks her gently in his arms and she’s back asleep in seconds. “Daddy has you.”
“I told you, you are a natural.” Emma’s smile softens, the sight of her husband and the daughter they made together making her heart leap off her chest.
“If that didn’t work I already have some dozens of sea shanties in my repertoire, just in case.”
“I know, babe. I’ve listened to them for the last nine months.”
“That you have, my love. I had to make sure the little lass slept well, like a responsible father.” He gives her his signature wink.
“Well, it worked because she always stopped kicking me. Daddy’s girl, aren’t you, little duck?” Emma strokes the baby’s hair and pulls the blanket up to cover them, realizing she can barely keep her eyes open anymore, no matter how hard she tries.
“Wake me if either of you needs anything, okay Killian?”
“Oh and Killian, don’t send a million pictures to my dad yet. They’ll be here to see her in a while, let them be surprised.” Killian looks at her in a way that makes her know if his arms weren’t occupied he’d scratch behind his ear.
“Oh oh, I know that look. How many?” They did take photos, or more like Killian took photos until his phone ran out of space, before she gave him hers. Emma is a more "living the moment" kind of person, even though she does love her husband's passion for capturing memories.
“Eighteen, Swan. But to my defense, he asked for them.” Emma giggles at the fact that Killian thinks he’s in trouble. As if she doesn’t know he probably sent their daughter’s photos to the whole town already, proud father that he is.
“Look at you, little bug. Only two hours old and daddy already made you a model.”
“Our lass takes after you.” Killian says softly, as he leaves a chaste kiss on Emma’s lips before she closes her eyes. “I promise I will take good care of her while you sleep."
"I know. You are her dad." She couldn't see his smile but she felt it all the way to her heart.
Whatever I may dream of, Emma thought with a smile, it can’t be sweeter than reality.