Chapter Text
Liam Jones is proud of his little brother, and it’s a feeling he’s sorely missed. Although feelings of any kind were muted to a fairly high degree in the Underworld, presumably to make the population less given to revolt, Liam clung to his love (and worry) for his brother with all of the stubbornness that had gotten him and Killian out of their poor excuse for a childhood alive and relatively intact. However, over the centuries of ferreting out increasingly distressing accounts of his brother’s activities from the dead who had encountered him in life, Liam must grudgingly admit that worry and fear for his brother’s soul had almost completely replaced pride. He was not even sure how to go about being proud of the dread villain Captain Hook–though loving him was still as easy as breathing. However, looking at his dear little brother now, Liam knows that he can certainly be proud of the man–the hero–Killian Jones has once again become.
Liam is currently squashed into a booth in an establishment called “Granny’s,” presided over by a worthy lady that is apparently the matriarch herself. The wall buttresses him on one side and Killian’s strong shoulder on the other; and he knows that the weight of centuries of worry and repressed emotions will hit him soon enough, but just for this moment, he is completely content. For his part, Killian has his other arm tightly around Emma, holding her indecorously close, not that the lass seems to mind–quite the contrary really if her absolutely radiant expression is anything to go by. No one else has raised any objection, well, except for her royal father; but as he had done so with a grin and a hand clasped tightly to Liam’s little brother’s shoulder, Liam assumes that he has already given them his blessing. And Liam is certainly not going to be making any objection about their breach of propriety, not when Killian’s gaze keeps jumping almost compulsively from Emma to Liam to Henry (on the other bench directly opposite), almost as though he’s afraid they will disappear when he is not looking. The time will come for teasing (and for discovering the rules of this new place); but right now, he does not want to do or say anything that might dampen the utter joy in Killian’s eyes. Instead, just for this moment Liam allows himself to bask in the novel feeling of being surrounded by family–of the novelty of feeling much of anything at all besides worry–and to reflect on the whirlwind of events which brought him–brought them–to this place.
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After the Lady Regina’s rather dramatic defeat of the Dark One–the look on the face of the monster who maimed and tortured his little brother and who murdered Milah (he will miss their talks, that is certain)–as they left him behind in the Underworld with Hades is one that makes a quiet flame of satisfaction burn within him even now–the motley group of heroes made their way to the River and the waiting boatman. Despite his nascent fear that this was all too easy–that Hades would appear to reclaim his property–that Killian would lose yet another happy ending–that he would lose his little brother again–they were allowed to board the vessel unmolested with only the warning that they not look back. That was no problem as he certainly had to wish to see that forsaken place again, and the rest of the group seemed to be of like mind. His little brother and his lady love did not seem to have plans to look away from each other any time soon, in any event; and the firm grip Killian had on his arm–Emma having taken his hook (oh, little brother!) in her grasp–made Liam’s choice to look forward (in more ways than one) all the simpler.
They alighted from the dismal craft in what seemed to be a small, ill-lit park shrouded in a darkness he vaguely remembered being what night looked like (the Underworld had consisted only of an unchanging, dismally gray daylight that never ended–that neither waxed nor waned). He had a moment of disquiet as his boots touched the real ground for the first time in centuries–surely his corporeal body was long gone–as he feared this was all some elaborate dream his mind had concocted in a last ditch attempt to stay sane–and a moment of terror that this would not work. However, nothing happened. Well, nothing except Killian letting out a hoarse cry and wrapping Liam and Emma in a crushing embrace. Still holding onto them both, Killian accepted a passionate kiss from Emma as Henry wriggled his way into the hug. Liam simply closed his eyes, breathed in his brother and held on. He did not even realize he was weeping until a worried Killian asked if he was all right. Looking into the concerned face of his family, it was the easiest thing in the world to grin (when was the last time he had done so?) and reply that he was merely happy (as if happiness was not something he had been nearly without for nigh unto three hundred years!).
After a short discussion regarding logistics, the group of heroes decided to split up briefly before reconvening at “Granny’s.” The Lady Regina and Robin (who seems to be her “young man”) poofed off briskly in a cloud of purple smoke to collect “the kids” from the protective custody of the local group of fairies, while Emma’s very young looking parents solemnly volunteered to let a lass by the name of Belle know what had happened. At his inquisitive look, Emma explained that Belle was the Dark One’s love who thought he had given up his dark ways–quite the awkward situation it would seem. Liam supposed that he should feel some guilt for being the beneficiary of the loss of the unknown lass’s happy ending, but the emotion…just would not come. He could not help but be glad to be here with his little brother, and he felt no sorrow at Killian’s Crocodile getting what he deserves. While the others were thus occupied, Emma and Henry lead he and Killian on the short walk to this Granny’s. Emma still had not let go of his brother; and for his part, Killian’s grip on Liam’s arm remained firm indeed. With the enviable energy of youth, young Henry flitted about the group–sometimes at his mother’s side, sometimes walking backwards in front of the small group, sometimes walking next to Liam, always chattering a mile a minute and rarely looking away from Killian.
Granny’s was…brightly lit. After so long in a permanent gloom, Liam found it to be quite a shock to his senses, but the overall effect was not altogether unpleasant. Emma sent Henry around the back to fetch the proprietress, and introductions were accomplished in good time–after she had her fill of hugging his brother. It seemed that his brother had truly found a home amongst these people, and the thought filled Liam’s heart with an unfamiliar feeling of warmth. They were installed in a cozy booth, made all the more cozy by Killian’s refusal to be separated–even by the width of a table–from either him or Emma. Henry posted himself on the other side of that table with every indication that he was settling in for the long haul. In short order Liam was introduced to the culinary delights of hot chocolate (raising an eyebrow, but not complaining when Killian laced the mugs of the three adults with rum) and some fried concoction called onion rings. Emma’s eyes got misty when she saw the food; and Liam would have thought he was intruding on a private moment if she and Henry were not taking such pains to genuinely smile at him and include him in the conversation–whenever they could tear their eyes away from Killian.
Soon enough, Lady Regina and Robin returned in another poof of purple smoke with two infants and a young boy in tow. The oldest of the babies was deposited, in some manner of bassinet, on Henry’s side of the table, and Liam was introduced to Emma’s brother, whom Henry referred to as his “other uncle,” a sentiment which caused that warmth in his heart to grow. Some time passed in light conversation (by unspoken agreement it seemed that they had decided to table any serious topics until a later time), but eventually Emma’s parents arrived looking a bit more ragged than when they left. Lady Mary Margaret instantly slid into the booth next to Henry, and turned a weary smile on Emma and Killian, before turning her attention to her son. Her husband paused by Emma’s side for a moment before dropping a kiss on her head and clasping a hand to Killian’s shoulder. His happy tone belied his gruff comment on their closeness. Still clasping Killian’s shoulder, he asked how Liam was finding Storybrooke thus far. Smiling slightly, Liam reminded him that he had not had the chance to explore the environs properly, but he believed that he was going to like it just fine–at this last Liam could not help but glance at his little brother. David smiled warmly, also looking at Killian, before joining his wife and Henry on the other side of the booth. Despite the small numbers and weariness, a festive–if muted–atmosphere prevailed. Henry solemnly assuring Liam that there would be a “real” party soon to welcome Killian and him home. For his part, Liam was content to bask in the sound of friendly voices–and the feel of his little brother next to him….
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Liam comes back to himself with a start some time later to the sensation of a hand on shoulder, shaking gently. Confused, he looks up to find Killian standing beside the booth, smiling gently at him–Emma at his side once again holding his hook. His little brother teases him almost shyly–while scratching behind his ear–about falling asleep (he had forgotten what that felt like for the dead do not sleep) and asks quietly if he’s ready to go home. Liam can think of no better answer than to take his brother’s hand and allow him to pull him out of the booth and to his feet.
He looks for Henry and finds him by the counter where he is apparently saying his farewells to Lady Regina. Emma seems to follow his gaze and almost nervously clears her throat. He has the feeling that, if she were willing to let go of his brother, she might be nervously wringing her hands together. She tells him that she knows he must be looking forward to a real bed, but she wonders if he might be willing to forgo that–just for this evening. Henry, she explains, will be unlikely to take being separated from his newly returned…here she hesitates before deciding on the word…friend; and she wonders if he and Killian would mind camping out downstairs for the night so that no one need be separated. Liam looks at Emma with new understanding. He is sure that Henry is not the only one who is reluctant to be separated from Killian through all of the long watches of what remains of the night–the very thought has him moving, almost unconsciously closer to the man in question. He is equally sure that, regardless of questions of propriety, there is little chance of Emma having reason to worry about experiencing such a separation herself. This amazing, compassionate woman, who looks at his brother as if he is her world, has concocted this plan to bring comfort to Liam (a man she barely knows)–as well as to Killian and her son. He leaves her in suspense no longer–he has no wish for her to worry that he is offended in any way–and gives his assent. Henry joins them then, and they make their way out onto the darkened streets of Storybrooke.