Trigger Warnings; fear of abandonment and bedsharing.

Also there's lyrics in song that I don't own in there.

The name of the song is "A Time Of Wooden Ships & Iron Men."

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

It took Killian 4 hours to clean up his room up to his liking— aka 'till there were no remnants of beer bottles and 'till the room was suitable enough for a teenage boy to sleep in.

It then took him an hour to explain to Ruby and Granny why he suddenly had a teenage boy in his care. Then it took an hour of begging to convince them not to tell Harry about what was going on.

So needless to say, he was exhausted by the time dinner rolled around and he could tell that Harry was too.

Killian watched as his boy rubbed his eyes sleepily for the 3rd time in the last hour before speaking up with a gentle smile on his face "you tired, lad?"

Harry yawned in response, rubbing his eyes with a nod.

Killian's heart ached slightly at the gesture—one Harry had made many times during his youth. He wondered if his heart would be this sore forever, before deciding that even if the answer was yes that it was worth it.

The gods had finally answered his prayers and given him one of his children back and he was gonna cherish every single moment there was without complaint.

"Alright, just let me go pay for our food and then we can go to my room— our home for the time being, okay?" All he got in response was yet another yawn and a sluggish nod.

Not long into the night later, the father and son duo were in Killian's room.

He watched with amusement as his son's eyes jumped from one new thing to the other in curiosity and excitement.

"This land brings many wonders, doesn't it?" Killian commented, smiling from the doorway.

Harry nodded, a spark of joyful wonder in his eyes "aye. They have so many interesting things that I've never seen before. Like a talking phone and a tv!"

The pirate captain chuckled "that they do but we can discuss all of that in the morning, okay?" He watched as his son pouted, obviously wanting to talk about all of it more now.

He opened his mouth to argue only to be cut off by his own yawn. He slumped his shoulders in defeat "okay."

All Killian could do was smile; he had missed his boy so damn much and he was gonna make up for the lost time by giving his son the best childhood one could have.

His boy deserved it.

He sent his son off to shower to get rid of the stench of seaweed and decay, and rifled through his dresser to find something Harry could wear for the night.

40 minutes later, his son came out of the bathroom devoid of sand and the stench, and his son's hair was no longer a matted mess.

He was wearing a pair of Killian's more appropriate pjs that were navy blue that hung on his thin frame. He looked adorable and years younger, and reminded Killian of a time when all his children were still together and happy.

He flashed the boy a small smile.

"Come on, lad, time for bed."

Harry hesitantly walked over and bit his lip— a habit he picked up from him—and Killian instantly knew something was bothering him. He gently took Harry's hands in his—well, hand and hook,— and made sure he had Harry's full attention before speaking.

"What's the matter, lad?" He asked softly, not wanting to scare Harry. Was it the fact that he was sitting in a chair near the bed? Did he want his own room? Killian would get him his own room if sharing made him unc— "you'll still be here when I wake up, right?"

Killian blinked at the question. He hadn't been expecting that. Like at all.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Harry bit his lip again, eyes watering slightly "you weren't there this morning"

Oh. Oh. Killian silently cursed, having forgotten that Harry didn't know he was dead— didn't remember doing the deed. He stood up and hugged his son close to him "oh Harry, I had absolutely no control of that. I woke up this morning and found out that you were over there. I would never willingly disappear on you and your sisters. You 3 are my world and I wouldn't trade any of you for anything "

Harry looked him in the eye for a split second before looking away and quietly asking "not even for Uncle Liam or Milah or Grandma?"

Killian just hugged him tighter before forcing him to look at him.

"Not even for the 3 of them. I did love them with all my heart– still do—but I wouldn't trade you or your sisters just so I could have them back. I'm a different person than I was back then and things might not work out well if they were brought back. They might not like who I am now and I think it's better to have them dead, remembering me as I was back then than them coming back and seeing how much I've changed. Besides, they aren't you. They aren't as important or special to me as you are."

Harry's eyes widened at that, a bit of light coming back to them "they aren't?"

The teen couldn't believe his ears. For as long as he had lived, his father had always sung their praises— saying he would do anything, give anything just to have them back. But now he was saying that there was somethings—someones— he would never give up and he was one of them. And not only that, but he was saying that he and his sisters were more important and special to him. It was surreal.

Killian nodded in affirmation.

"They aren't. I did love all of them but you and your sisters are different. You 3 can always make me smile and laugh. You 3 make me feel as if I'm doing something right. You 3 make it easier to get up in the morning and I'd never trade that for anything."

Harry could tell by the emotion in his father's voice that he meant every word and finally relaxed in his arms.

"So you didn't get rid of me on purpose because you finally got tired of me?" He asked timidly. Killian just kissed his forehead and gently rubbed his boy's back.

"No. I could never get tired of you. You're my whole world. Now come on, you've had a long day and you need to rest" He said, patting the bed.

Harry sluggishly climbed into bed and laid on his side so that he was facing his father. He was scared that his father would disappear if he looked away. Killian just smiled weakly at him, leaning back in his chair, and decided to calm his son's nerves.

He took a deep breath and began to sing softly "from lackluster sand we laid down our hands and took up our powder and shot.." Harry looked confused at first but quickly smiled when he realized what his father was doing.

He always sang to him and his sisters when they were little. And Harry loved this song.

"Time after time, overt crime after crime. These heinous acts, they shan't be forgot. We clad in the dress of the old pirate's best and offered a rare sort of song—"

Harry's eyes started to droop shut, a small smile on his face as he curled up slightly closer to the edge of the bed. He wanted to be as close to his father as possible so he knew that he was there.

"Thrashing and slashing as waves keep on crashing. This is where we belong " Killian continued to sing softly until he heard Harry snoring, causing him to smile.

It worked.

He brushed the hair out of Harry's face and tried to make himself comfortable in the chair, not wanting his son to wake up to find him gone. It wasn't comfortable, but his son was more important than His own comfort.

Killian soon drifted off to sleep at his son's beside and instead of dreaming of times long passed or his own death, he dreamt of a happy future.

One where Harry was happy with friends.

One with Cj and Harriet.

One where he didn't want to die.

One where he wasn't alone.

One where he died old with tons of grandkids.

He smiled in his sleep, having actual hope for a better future— one with or without Emma in it.