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Pain shot through him as he crumpled to the ground, his good hand barely moving fast enough to stop his head from bashing into the wooden floor. Bloody hell . He lay there, unmoving as he waited for the throbbing pain to subside. Captain Hook had been stabbed, dragged through hell, and spit out the other side, and somehow none of that compared to the pain he was in now.
All of a sudden he heard a soft voice at his ear as a gentle hand ran through his hair.
“Killian?” Emma’s voice was laced with concern. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“I stepped on one of these infernal toys,” Killian groaned, picking up the sharp lego block that had downed him. He tossed the offending piece across the room, letting it ricochet off a wall and disappear under the corner bookshelf.
He heard Emma hum in sympathy. “They’re like little landmines.”
“Aye. They should be banned.”
Emma laughed. “I’ll help you start the petition.”
Killian sat up, extending his feet out and resting his back against the couch. Their normally tidy living room was a mess of children’s toys from where they had been abandoned late last night, when the after dinner showing of The Jungle Book had gone on longer than anticipated due to their youngest needing to pause the movie every ten minutes to refill their snacks and rearrange the pillows in their blanket fort. Emma had finally caught on to the stalling tactic a bit too late in the game and the boy had been shuffled off to bed with the living room in shambles. The remnants of their pillow fort were still collapsed into a heap by the tv, along with most of the couch cushions.
Though it was now apparently that his injuries were ‘minor’ - Emma’s words, not his - his wife’s hand remained in his hair, smoothing out the pieces that he hadn’t bothered to brush that morning. He hadn’t yet changed out of his sleeping clothes - it was Sunday, after all - but Emma was already dressed for the day, as was their youngest, who was balanced delicately on her crouched knees. She was a sight to behold. He couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss her, a soft loving peck that left an endearing blush across his wife’s cheeks. Gods, he loved her.
The moment was only interrupted by the happy screech of the little one in her arm, wriggling to crawl into his father’s arms. Killian reached across to take him into his arms, dragging him into his lap. He smiled down at the infant, who was adamantly trying to find out exactly how much of his fist he could fit in his mouth. That did not stop him from returning his father’s smile, his little mouth drooling over his knuckles and he bounces in his mother’s arms, feet kicking hard.
Her arms now free, Emma stood, walking over to the bottom of the staircase.
“ Liam ,” Emma called out sternly, her best mom voice in effect. She had been getting quite good at that, and sure enough, a moment later Killian heard the soft slapping of bare feet racing down the steps.
“Yeah, mom?”
“Liam,” Emma scolded, “how many times have I told you to clean up your toys after you’re done with them?”
The child stared back at her sheepishly. “Sorry, mom. I’ll go do it now.”
“It’s okay, but you’ll have to do it later. Go get cleaned up now. Breakfast is on the table.”
His big, blue eye went impossibly wide with excitement. “Waffles?”
“Waffles,” Emma confirmed, grinning at his enthusiasm.
Liam cheered, racing around the corner into the kitchen. There was the loud screech of a wooden chair being roughly pulled back from the table, and the sound of silverware clattering. Even though he was a clear momma’s boy, he looked so much like Killian some days. She couldn’t been more proud of her little family.
“Wait for us,” Emma reminded the youngster with a laugh. She couldn’t be sure he had heard.
Just as she made to turn around and fetch her other two boys, she felt an arm sneak around her middle drawing her close.
“Looks like someone’s excited,” her husband noted, placing another kiss to her cheek. Emma loved how affectionate her pirate was in the morning. She was sure that that was how the youngest had come into being - not that she would ever the kid that.
“I’m a pretty good cook,” she said with a grin. The infant in Killian’s arm squeaked at the sound of his mother’s voice, and Emma playfully bopped him on the nose with her index finger. “Isn’t that right, kiddo?” Another giggle.
“Good thing, too. I’m afraid our growing sailors have quite the appetites,” Killian chuckled, hearing the distinct sound of the fridge being yanked open, the contents clattering together from the force.
“What’s on the schedule for today,” Killian asked, suppressing a yawn. He loved her waffles, but Emma knew he’d be heading straight for the coffee machine first thing. It was his favourite invention in this realm - more so than the microwave, which he adamantly refused to use after reading about radiation one time - and Emma had bought him one for their first anniversary.
“The kids are going to the library for one of Ashley’s workshops.”
“Ah, well in that case I’ll need to dress after breakfast.”
“No need,” Emma smirked, and her husband’s eyebrows raised in question. “ Belle is taking them to the library.”
A scandalous grin spread across Killian’s face as he caught her meaning. “I like the sound of that.” He kissed her again, with a bit more heat than he had before but still restrained as they were both keenly aware of the baby perched on Killian’s hip.
“ Mom !”
Liam’s voice echoed from the kitchen as his parents broke apart, but the wink that Killian gave her held promises for what was to come later.
“Coming, Liam,” she called back.
She took her husband by the hand and together they walked to the breakfast table. Everything else would have to wait, but it didn’t matter. They had forever.