The day Killian Jones asked Emma Swan to be his wife was simultaneously the most exciting and most terrifying day of his long life.
It wasn't that he thought she'd say no - at least... he didn't think she'd say no - once he had won her heart she had never been afraid to tell him how much she loved him. He was afraid because it had taken him so long to get to this point, to be able to love someone again so completely, and as much as he knew it to be true - for both of them, he also knew it was not going to be easy because of who they were, who Emma was.
It had been David, her father, who had told him to take a leap of faith. Told him it would be worth it, no matter how hard the days ahead would be.
"She's stubborn like her mother," his mate had confided, "and it's frustrating as hell. But it's worth it. Every time Mary Margaret looks at me and I see the love in her eyes, it's worth it."
And Killian believed him, because he'd seen the same in Emma's eyes, and when she had finally admitted to her feelings for him it had been a whirlwind. Emma Swan never did anything halfway, and loving him had been no different. Most people would have thought it too soon to take the next step. But Killian thought he'd go crazy if he didn't ask her now.
So he took her to her favorite restaurant, and she wore the most amazing red dress that fit her like a glove and made it difficult for him to even focus on the task at hand. She smirked at him from across the table with knowing eyes, and he knew she'd done it on purpose to fluster him.
He played it as cool as he could, holding idle conversations through the wine and the salads and the meal. Once their places were clear they ordered a coffee for him and a hot cocoa with cinnamon for her - just as they did after every meal - and after she took her first sip she smiled at him, and he thought maybe he'd fallen even more in love with her.
It was that moment that he realized how ridiculous he was for being nervous. This was his true love, his Emma, and now that she was his, he couldn't imagine a single day without her. He laughed quietly to himself, chiding his boyish nerves, and the action wasn't lost on her.
"Killian?" she asked in a soft questioning tone, "What's so funny?"
He shook his head, thinking 'no time like the present.'
"Emma, I guarantee if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life." he told her, finally meeting her eyes.
She was grinning, and for a moment he wondered if she'd known all along about his plan and just played ignorant for his benefit. She would do just that, he mused.
"Will you end my suffering and marry me?" he asked finally, bringing the ring out from his pocket, the ring David had given Mary Margaret back in the Enchanted Forest, the ring he'd given to Killian for just this moment. The stone was green like Emma's eyes and as he held it out to her, they both sparkled with an impossible beauty.
"Yes," she whispered, looking from the ring to him with emotion evident in her eyes. "One thousand times yes."
And he had slipped the ring on her finger, they both stood and embraced, and he kissed her with all the love he could muster. And later that night he kissed her one thousand times, and whispered one thousand 'I love you's.
§ § § § § § § § § § § § § § §
She was going back to Storybrooke to tell them the news in person. Of course, Killian knew her parents were already aware, as he had gone to ask their permission over a month ago. He had received their blessing without hesitation, and was surprised when David had offered him the ring.
Henry was already in Maine with his grandparents, had been spending the last part of the summer with them before school began again. Killian had unfortunately been unable to go with them for this visit, having to stay in New York to work, and although they were only going to be there till the end of the weekend, he was eager to see his little family again.
He stole a glance at the clock on the wall of their kitchen - 8:15 - she should have arrived by now, but he hadn't heard from her. He opened up her laptop and signed into Skype, hoping to initiate a video call and get to say hello to everyone.
It rang through... once... twice... three times... and something about the lack of an answer sent a chill down Killian's spine. It wasn't like her to not answer, even if she was busy he'd usually get a 'hey let me call you back.'
He closed the computer and picked up the house phone, dialing the number for David and Mary Margaret's loft. Again he was met with unanswered ringing, and the dread was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach. He dug through the junk drawer under where the phone usually hung and found his address book - even after much harassment from Emma, he refused to use a cell phone - and punched David's number into the keypad on the base of the phone.
"Killian." David answered and his heart sank. He could tell that something was wrong immediately.
"David, I need to see Emma, is she there? Have you heard from her? She's not picking up her phone." he could hear the frantic sound of his voice and he couldn't be bothered to care.
"Killian," the other man started gravely, "she's-she's been in an accident."
The pain that he felt from that simple phrase was indescribable.
"What did you just say?" he croaked out, not recognizing his own voice, this broken, weak voice had to belong to a stranger, not Killian Jones.
"Someone was in the road," David was saying, "she tried to swerve out of the way and she - she lost control of the car."
He was standing in an instant, reaching for his coat, his keys, his wallet, yelling into the phone in desperation.
"Where is she? I need to see her! I need to see that she's okay!" he barked.
But the silence stretched on and he knew the answer before it came. It felt as though someone had reached into his chest and closed their hand around his heart, putting pressure enough to cause him excruciating pain without giving him the release of death.
"I'm so sorry Killian...but..." David mumbled, voice thick with emotion, and Killian was struck with the thought that this man, Emma's father was trying to maintain strength for his benefit. " she didn't make it." he finished in barely a whisper, and he could hear the way his voice faltered, could hear his friend breaking on the other end of the call and he couldn't bear it.
He laid the phone limply back in its cradle just as he felt himself crack and split at the seams. Someone had taken a knife and dragged it along every vein and every nerve ending until there was nothing but agony. The pain radiated through his very soul and he wondered how he had ever classified it before when this was nothing like anything he'd ever experienced.
He sunk down on the edge of the bed they had shared for the past six months, dropped his head to his hands and let the pain permeate his body. There was no relief, no solace to be had. She was gone, his Emma, the light in his darkness, the love of his life, the woman who was supposed to be his wife, who he was supposed to spend all eternity with. Gone.
It was unbearable, the feeling of loss. The feeling of losing part of himself. Because that's what she had been, another part of him, and without her he would never be whole again.
And with that final thought, before his whole world went dark, Killian Jones began to weep.