Author's note: I saw some spoiler pics for when they filmed the end of season 4, and I kind of incorporated that idea into one of my own and turned it into this oneshot.

Basic premise: this takes place maybe a year or two after the end of the season 4 episode Heroes and Villains, and Emma and Killian have a daughter of their own.

Warning: some spoilers for the end of season 4.

How do you say goodbye to someone you never felt was truly yours to begin with?

With Liam, his regret had been buried under his hatred of the king and the beginning of his relationship with his flask. With Milah, he had barely given himself time to grieve; his rage and sorrow had immediately been channeled into a deep, insatiable thirst for revenge. He'd known, of course, that his brother and his lover were gone, but it never remained on the forefront of his mind. In many ways, his obsession with piracy and revenge had occupied the space those deaths would have filled, allowing him to both accept and deny the reality, as paradoxical as it seemed.

He didn't have that option anymore.

With every stroke of the brush through the tangled locks, every smile, every raised, sassy, eyebrow (despite the young age), he would see her. Forever reminded of her with each and every beat of his heart. She was everywhere, in the grilled cheeses he still ordered from Granny's, the mug of the dark chocolate beverage she so preferred, in the once young boy, forced to age overnight, who wandered listlessly around in a way only Killian could understand.

Everywhere, yet forever gone to him.

There would be no disavowal. Not now. Not ever.

His ringed hand reached out to encircle her upper arm mere seconds before she would've made it out the door. "You have to stop this, Swan."

She whirled back, her hair flying up in the air around her before coming to rest on her shoulders; the fire in her eyes nearly made him take a cautionary step backwards. "Stop what, exactly?"

"This." He gestured blithely with the prosthetic he'd worn since Lily's life had begun. "This mad-"

"What?" She challenged, her head cocking to the side in a far different manner from the way she did so when she adopted a more playful disposition. "I need to stop what? Tell me what I can and cannot do, why don't you?"

"Emma…"

"What?" She repeated. "Go ahead, Hook. Go ahead." She shrugged out of his grasp, her arms coming up to cross themselves over her chest. "Since you obviously think you have the authority to order me around."

His hand immediately came up to scratch the spot behind his ear, vigorously abusing the poor skin as he clambered for a response that wouldn't continue to elicit such a hostile response. "Swan. You know full well what I'm talking about."

"Do I?" She raised an eyebrow, reminding him all over again of precisely which parent their daughter had precociously inherited her spitfire ways. "I mean, you clearly don't trust me enough so why don't you share with the class?" She spat.

Without waiting for a response, she continued. "I'm trying to keep her safe. Keep you safe. Hell, keep the whole damn town safe. What about that is so confusing, Killian?"

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could control it, in the same manner water rushes from a glass as soon as its tipped over. "Because Lily needs her mother! She needs you, love. You can't keep running off-"

A strangled noise made its way from the depths of her throat, effectively cutting him off. "Running off? Is that what you think I'm doing?"

"No," he sighed deeply. "that's not what I-"

"But it's what you think, right? That I'm just going off to hang out with Regina for fun everyday." Her voice grew hard and edgy. "Need I remind you that a flying demon thing nearly took out the clock tower last week? Or, I know, the army of fog beasts that came out of nowhere? The ones that nearly killed you, and who else? Give up? Our daughter." She turned away as if she was too angry to face him, but he knew it was her attempt to hide the angry tears from him.

"I know." He said. "I'm aware, Swan. I was there."

She wiped the back of her hand against her face before turning to face him again. "Then how dare you tell me to stop trying to keep our daughter safe? I have a responsibility to her. To the rest of the town."

Killian could predict the rest of their exchange with a startlingly clear accuracy. Soon he'd apologize, she'd soften, he'd wrap his arms around her, and angry words would cease to fly through the air. She'd promise to worry less about the never ending dangers. He'd vow to try to understand.

But it'd inevitably start all over again, in the same manner it had ever since Lily's birth.

"Nothing's going to happen to Lily." He said. "Not with the most stubborn parents, not to mention grandparents, in all the realms." Sensing that some of her anger had dissipated, he reached out and cupped her chin.

"I'm just trying to keep her safe." Emma sighed as she touched her forehead to his, all previous the tension disappearing as she relaxed into him.

"You don't have to be scared, love." He reminded her. "You're not going to lose another child."

She nodded. Her lips found his, and soon their argument was pushed to the depths of both their minds.

If only he'd tried harder to get her to listen, to believe him. But short of tying her up and stashing her in the apartment (she'd probably escape anyway), what could he have done?

The vibrant red of her favorite jacket was a beacon on the oddly fitting gray day; the color nearly burned his sleepless eyes as he stared numbly ahead, focused purely on one all encompassing thought.

Emma. I've failed you.

Up ahead, a teary Mary Margaret spoke at the podium of Emma's bravery, heroism, and sacrifice. For a moment, he just let the words wash over him as he was caught up in a tale of the mythical figure Emma, one whose actions had saved the entire town from certain bloody damnation.

But what about his own damnation?

He mused to himself that the princess was a rather good speaker. She could write a novel. The thought caused a laugh to bubble up; he coughed awkwardly in an attempt to ward it off, causing a strange sideways glance from David.

What the bloody hell was wrong with him?

"She did it out of love for her family." The brunette spoke, a shaky hand fisting itself atop the podium.

Well then, love, I'd prefer if you'd loved us less.

As Mary Margaret finished, and Henry went up, followed by Regina, much to everyone's surprise. Mary Margaret and David had asked, even begged, him to speak. "Just say something, anything, about Emma. You knew her best." Mary Margaret had insisted.

But he had no words. As pure as the princess's intentions were, the person she'd described was not the Emma Swan he'd loved so deeply; rather she could've been telling the tale of a nondescript hero, one with no connection with the women he would've followed to the ends of the Earth.

No one could've captured Swan's feisty spirit with their words. The way she raised her eyebrow, how she cocked her head and stepped closer when she became playful. How she grasped his collar to bring him closer. The fierce way she wrapped her arms around Henry, as if afraid he'd be ripped away at any moment. How she always looked upon Lily with nothing but pure love and joy, with a beautiful expression tainted by an undercurrent of an old worry, dreading that she'd inevitably lose another child.

This was not officially a burial, as there had been no body. It had been the cricket's idea, as he suggested that this would provide closure after weeks of failed attempts to locate Swan.

One by one, Storybrooke citizens came up to drop roses and shovel dirt over the box the jacket would be buried in, as they took their turns saying goodbye. Murmured apologies and words intending to comfort filled the air, and hands came up to clap David and Henry's shoulders, while Mary Margaret received hug after hug.

Killian stood towards the back, watching everything unfold before him as his fingers frantically kneaded them at his side. He might've been merely watching a moving picture ("a movie, Killian, it's called a movie). Perhaps he should be out there, accepting everyone's condolences. He should. But how could mere words fix anything? As well meaning as they were, nothing anyone ever said or did would be enough.

Someone stepped in front of him; it took a moment for their frame to materialize before him. "Here."

It was David. Somehow he'd appointed himself as Killian's best mate, laying out his clothes for the-he refused to say burial, and constantly reminding him to eat, shower, and shave. He held out the shovel with one hand. "It's your turn."

He fully understood the words, could see himself in his mind's eye reaching out and grasping the wooden handle, curling his fingers around it. His body, on the other hand, did not seem to reach the same level of comprehension.

David thrust the shovel's handle into Killian's hand and all but shoved him forward with a hand on his back. "I know it hurts now." He said in his ear. "But it'll get better."

Killian came to a stop beside the hole that had been dug in the fresh, wet Earth. One last shovel heaped of dirt, and the jacket that symbolized someone mere words, formations of the vibrations of one's throat and movement of their lips, had failed almost hilariously to describe.

He tried to form his lips into a singular word. Goodbye.

But how could he say goodbye to someone he never truly felt was his? Despite every beautiful shared moment, despite their closeness, despite everything, he had the feeling that she'd leave at any moment, suddenly realizing that the pirate he tried so hard to suppress still lingered at the surface, ready to strike at any moment much like a viper lies dormant in the weeds, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Despite the way she allowed herself to be vulnerable around him, despite how he'd told her everything there was to know about him, Emma Swan had felt like a long, glorious dream that he was bound to wake up from eventually, clawing frantically at the air in an attempt to return to the bliss.

This was supposed to provide closure. But how could one reach that if whatever had happened would forever remain a mystery?

"How could you just give up like this?" He roared as he threw yet another useless book across the book, where it came inches from impaling poor Belle.

"We can't keep doing this." David replied. "For yours and everyone's sake. We need to move on and-"

"Your daughter is gone." He retorted. "And you dare speak of moving on?"

"I get it. If it was Mary Margaret-"

"But it's not." Killian insisted. "You will never understand."

David sighed, nodding as he accepted this. "Hook, you can't blame yourself." He tried instead.

"Who am I to blame then? The invisible villain we never knew was lurking in the town? Emma for trying to save everyone?"

David shook his head. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "But let me ask you this. What do you think Emma would want right now?"

"To be here, with her family, perhaps." Killian replied sarcastically. "Not dead or trapped somewhere by dark magic."

"And what about you?" David asked. "Will you allow that same magic to destroy you? It's not just about you anymore. Lily needs you. Will you let her become an orphan?"

"Killian?"

He hadn't noticed as the sky grew dark(er), as people gradually filtered away, as rain began to fall, sluicing over his leather attire and quickly rendering the dirt mound flat and compact.

"Everyone's gone back home."

How amazing that almost overnight, the young lad's voice had gone from bright and hopeful to gray.

"Dave sent you to fetch me?"

"Partly." Henry admitted. "He's worried about you. Grandma too. We all are."

"Your concern is misplaced." Killian replied. He watched with a bit of sick fascination at the rain's ability to transform the world around him to something more somber. Had anyone ever just stopped to watch, to admire Nature's powers?

"Come on." Henry's voice was dim and muted, as if they floated underwater with a great distance between them. "We should go back."

She wasn't even there. Her body was-he refused to say gone. The box underneath the dirt, it was nothing more than a symbolic gesture. But leaving meant acceptance.

How he could he ever accept this?

How could he continue on with his life?

How he could ever say goodbye?

Killian crouched down and dangled his hand into his jacket pocket, encircling his fingers around the cool metal of an object that had become a vital part of him, making up much of who he was.

Or rather, had been.

Pressing his lips to the smooth surface, he pressed the hook into the ground and quietly bid goodbye to a part of himself that he would be leaving behind with the jacket.

This isn't goodbye, my love. He vowed as he allowed himself to be led out by Henry. I will find you. I will see you again. If not in this life, then perhaps in the next.

It was almost a dance, a ritual they'd perfected over time. With any crisis came everyone hitting the streets in panic until the prince and princess herded them to safety. With the streets clear, Emma and Regina would face the villain of the moment, who'd inevitably be drawn to the clock tower for reasons no one could comprehend.

Ever since Lily's birth, he'd remained with her and Henry in the safety of Granny's; prior to his daughter's arrival, however, he'd be right by Emma's side, ready to draw his sword and protect her at any cost.

Today, things were no different, except with the slight variation that Robin had staunchly refused to leave Regina, leaving his young son in the care of the paradoxically named Little John.

And if Robin stayed, Killian did as well.

"Go." Emma said frantically, her eyes wide as she silently pleaded with him to retreat to safety. "I've got this."

Not three feet away, Robin and Regina were in the midst of a similar argument, with her threatening to use magic to teleport him away.

"Lily needs you." She said. "Please. Go. I can't-it's too…you can play hero later. You need to leave now."

"No." He insisted, grabbing onto her hand, one hand fingering the sword at his side, although it'd be of no help in this battle. "Wherever you go, I go as well."

"Please". " She repeated.

I can't lose you was the implication.

"We will face this hell beast together." He vowed as the violent wind whipped his open jacket around. "I won't-"

His words were cut off by Robin's strangled cry, as Regina was propelled into the air by something none of them could see.

"Regina!"

The despair on his face was echoed all around, as Emma stared up in horror, as Killian envisioned a similar thing happening to his Swan.

"What does it want?!" Robin cried.

"Magic." Came Emma's grim reply.

Above their heads, Regina seemed to be fading.

"And it won't stop until it gets what it wants." Emma added.

Both Killian and Robin realized what Emma was about to do mere seconds before she did.

"There has to be another way." Robin said as his eyes flickered frantically from Regina to Emma.

"There isn't."

Killian leaped out and grabbed her arm. "No, Swan." He said roughly. "Y-you can't."

"I have to." She said, her gaze oddly steady, though he could see the moisture building around the brilliant emerald orbs; with a jolt he realized that this would be the last time he'd ever see those green eyes again. "It's the only way to keep you and Lily and Henry and everyone else safe."

"Emma." He pleaded, hating the way his voice cracked at her name. "Please."

She reached down and grasped his hand, bringing it up and holding it over her heart as she leaned her forward against his. "I love you."

For a long, glorious moment it was just the two of them. He could feel her chest heaving with hastily swallowed sobs, his other arm coming up to wrap around her, trying to memorize her touch, her scent, her every characteristic.

Trying to burn each other's essence into their memories in the hopes that they'd remember in the long days ahead.

Before he could blink, she shoved him aside and thrust up the Dark One dagger.

Lightning crackled through the air, and the wind reached an intensity Killian never could've imagined.

Regina was released and immediately wrapped up in Robin's arms, though their relief was short lived, as Regina screamed out in protest as she watched the scene unfold before her.

And with a brilliant blast of light that momentarily turned everything white, with a shrill cry, Emma Swan disappeared.

He later learned that the thing had been interested in sucking up all the light magic in the air, and by throwing herself in its path, Emma had bore all of its intentions, as it absorbed her and disappeared into oblivion.

Killian frantically clawed at the ground she'd stood mere moments before. "Emma!" He cried, his voice hoarse. "Where did she go?"

Regina's stricken expression mirrored his as she stared wide eyed. "I have no idea."

"Is she-" He couldn't bring himself to say it, to voice the truth on everyone's minds.

"I don't know."

With all the uncertainty that plagued the air, there was no fathomable way they could bring her back, no way of ever knowing what had happened.

Nobody could help him now.

Hope made people do the most outrageous things, things they'd never fathomed they'd be capable of doing. He'd willingly submitted to years upon years of servitude for that blasted demon Pan all in the hopes of eventually finding a way to destroy the Crocodile. And when that failed, he gone into failed alliance after failed alliance.

It carried a power of its own. He'd whispered her name to himself every night for a year, holding onto the soft word that had filled his chest ("There's not a day that will go by that I won't think of you. "Good".) with the power to carry on despite the void in his heart created by the fading of the bright yellow driving vehicle.

True love may be the most powerful magic of all, but hope came in a close second. Without hope, people lost all incentive to do anything. Without hope, the darkness always creeping in the shadows would be succumbed to.

It was hope that would give him the strength to move forward. Hope that he would find a way to see her again.

He'd survived centuries awaiting his chance for revenge. And now he'd do the same, only this time it would be for something entirely different.

Love.

Author's note: Any comments? Is it as heartbreaking as I'd intended it to be?