"Everything Starts With HOPE" [Captain Swan]

Killian's P.O.V

Christmas Eve had arrived, and while Emma spent the day with her mother, I had been preparing a surprise. After everything we had been through, a touch of normalcy felt like the greatest gift I could give her. That was the reason behind my plan.

Like every Christmas Eve, we were having dinner with Mary Margaret and David. It was a tradition—one of the few constants in our ever-changing lives.

When Emma finally came down the stairs, my breath hitched. She was wearing the same dress she had worn on our first date, the fabric hugging her in all the right ways. But this time, there was a noticeable difference—her pregnancy was no longer just a whisper of a secret but a radiant truth.

"You look..." I mumbled.

"I know." She said, grinning, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of joy and nostalgia.

It was like reliving that magical night all over again. I stepped forward, took her hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before grabbing our jackets. But the moment we opened the door, we saw snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky. With a shared glance, we wordlessly decided to walk instead, letting the crisp winter air and the soft crunch of snow beneath our boots add to the enchantment of the evening.

Emma's P.O.V

By the time we reached my parents' house, the warm glow from inside was already spilling onto the snow-covered porch. The door swung open before we even knocked, revealing Neal, my little brother, with a Santa hat perched crookedly on his head. My heart melted instantly.

"Guys! You finally made it!" My mom exclaimed, practically radiating excitement.

"Here we are." I said, shaking the snow from my coat.

"Merry Christmas." David greeted us with a warm smile.

"Still not quite used to this, mate." Killian gave a small nod.

"You will." David chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Is it time for presents?" David asked, his eyes lighting up.

Before Neal could process those words, I moved quickly, covering his ears.

"No! Santa is bringing the presents tonight." I said.

"Still don't quite understand this tradition." Killian arched a brow.

I spent the next few minutes explaining to him— again—why we kept up the Santa story. Meanwhile, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a sight that made my heart swell. Killian was crouched beside Neal, letting the little boy tug at the leather cuff on his wrist, the two of them giggling together. It was such a pure moment that I instinctively reached for my phone, desperate to capture it.

Before I could, David's voice pulled me back.

"What about the book? Did you find it?" He asked.

"No, we're still looking." I sighed, shaking my head.

"Stop it." Mary Margaret interjected. "It's Christmas. We are not talking about that tonight."

Dinner was filled with laughter and stolen glances. However, something between Killian and David caught my attention. They kept exchanging looks, silently communicating in that way they often did. At first, I dismissed it, assuming they were just playing their usual game.

By the time we left, it was already past midnight.
Snowflakes clung to our coats as we stepped inside our home, exhaustion settling into my bones.

"Well." Killian said, his voice unusually soft. "It's officially Christmas Day... so I suppose it's time for your present."

"You got me a present?" My eyebrows lifted.

He took my hand gently, his fingers lacing through mine.

"Aye, love." His smile was warm, but there was something else in his expression— nervousness.

Intrigued, I let him guide me upstairs. When we stopped in front of Henry's bedroom door, a strange sensation fluttered in my chest.

"I wasn't sure if this would make you happy or if you'd kill me, but I had to try." He admitted, his voice almost hesitant.

"What did you do?" My pulse quickened.

"Open the door." His lips curved into a knowing smile.

I hesitated, my hand trembling slightly as I turned the knob. The moment the door swung open, my breath caught in my throat. Henry's room was gone. In its place was a nursery—a delicate shade of blush painted on the walls, a crib nestled in the center, and soft baby ornaments adorning the space. But none of that compared to what stood in the middle of the room.