Hey everyone! So, this is my first fic type thing, and any feedback would be awesome. Feel free to leave a comment, or PM me. I hope you enjoy this little one shot! All character rights go to Once Upon A Time creators.

It's been a while since anyone's seen her around. The girl with the long blonde hair. The girl with the enchanting eyes. The girl with the broken smile. She's had her heart broken far too often. Some would say beyond repair, but Killian Jones would beg to differ. He often thinks about the fragile and (at the same time) strong women that is in his arms right now, crying an ocean. It pains him to see her like this, but he can't say it'll be okay. Not just yet. Because he knows it won't. (Not for a while, at least.) His heart sinks when sobs escape her lips and he wishes he could fix the situation. He wishes he could fix her.

*three days prior*

She hadn't seen him for a few days. In fact, she hadn't seen him since the accident. The one that left her with a hollow heart and tissues littering her bedroom floor. Her parents had been out on a drive. Her 24th birthday was quickly approaching and they wanted more than anything, to get their little girl the perfect gift. (She always told them not to call her their little girl, but now, she would give her life to hear it.) She thought the car crash would be the worst news she would receive that day, but no. Nothing ever goes right for Emma Swan.

Just an hour later, Killian called and asked her to come to her parent's apartment. There was something she needed to see. She had asked him earlier if he would go through the apartment for her, she couldn't be there. Not just yet. But life isn't fair, so to her parent's apartment she went. She walked into the apartment, planning to keep her composure, but the moment she saw him, all thoughts of playing it cool fled her mind. She broke down right in front of him, her knees hitting the floor with a thud, the tears spilling down her rosy cheeks. His heart shattered into millions of pieces and he was instantly on the ground next to her, pulling her into his arms. She gratefully leaned against him, using him for both physical and emotional support as he attempted to comfort her, "Shh, it's alright, love. Let it all out." He'd whispered.

He was trying so hard to not crack right in front of her. Seeing her like this-in so much pain- destroyed him. Her hair was frizzy, pulled into a careless ponytail. She was in her pajamas', her eyes were red and swollen. She looked wrecked, yet he'd still never seen such a beautiful women. He didn't care that she was soaking his shirt, didn't care that the old wood floor was giving him splinters after he had scooped her into his arms. He didn't care about anything except for her. He wasn't ready to give her the devastating news. She was already weeping and grief-stricken, he couldn't do it. But he did. After encouraging words, several hours of nothing but tears, and countless hugs, Emma was -not quite better- a little less broken down, but still broken. He dropped the bomb just as she was starting to build herself back up. Bad timing on his part,

"Swan?" He called from her parents' bedroom. She was in the kitchen, getting a drink of water for her best friend and herself when she heard him call. The tone in his voice instantly set off alarms in her mind. Something was wrong. She made her way to her parent's room to see him sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers. As she approached him, she saw it. In his hand was a printout of an ultra sound. "Oh my-" Before the words could make it out her mouth, she was on the floor again. This time, she pushed him away. She didn't let him comfort her. She made him leave the house before letting the tears fall. Her parents were going to have a baby. She was going to have a baby brother or sister.

She didn't just lose her parents. She lost her parents and their baby. Tears sprung to her eyes once again, pounding her fist to the floor until it was bruising. She fell asleep that night on the floor of her parent's apartment, clutching the image of the tiny baby in her hand, trying desperately to convince herself that it was a dream. But it wasn't. Every few hours, she woke up. Finding herself in their apartment wasn't what made her realize it wasn't a dream. It was the immediate tears that fell as soon as she awoke, the dreams of how her parents had died, the countless voice mails and messages from Killian that were left unanswered. This went on for days. (To her, it felt like years.)

She finally gives in after three days. Three days of isolating herself in her parent's apartment and ignoring him. She simply can't take it any longer. It's eating her alive. She rushes to the collage they are both attending, ignoring the questioning looks as she runs through the halls. She finally finds him, sitting in the corner with his ear buds in, sketching. She taps his shoulder, and when he stands up, she collapses in his arms, (she seems to be doing a lot of that lately, but it doesn't worry her. She knows he'll always catch her.) She doesn't try to hide the pain.

She lets the tears flow, she allows the sobs escape. He cradles her, never letting her go. She's heartbroken, and he can't deal with it. His best friend is in pain, and so is he. Not only because she is destroyed, but also because her parents were like parents to him. Even though he wants to break down right there, he holds it together. For her. She looks up at him, her eyes red and puffy. Her mind says I want to go home. Her eyes say I want to stay right here. With you, in your arms. So they do.

She thought the pain wouldn't get any worse, but she was wrong. That was the last time she ever saw him.

She gets the call at three in the morning. It's the hospital. She's dazed and confused, but when they say Killian's name, she's wide awake. They talk to her in a string of medical terms, and all she hears is gibberish, but the next two words she hears ring loud and clear. "He's dead." It takes her a few minutes to register the words before her phone is thrown across the room. He's dead. He left her, "You promised you wouldn't leave me!" First she's yelling at him. (Even though he can't talk back.) She knows he can hear her. Somewhere out there, he can hear her.

Then she's on the ground, but this time, she isn't in his arms. Sobs escape her raw throat and her lungs seem to contract and she can no longer breathe and a voice in her heard tells her this is not real and it's all just a dream and if she pinched herself hard enough, she would wake up and- and nothing. He's dead. He's gone. He broke her just as he broke his promise to stay with her. She's not on the ground anymore. She's taking all the picture frames off the walls. As she throws picture frames to the ground, she rips up pictures, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

Saying she's angry would be an understatement. She's furious. He was sick. He was dying and he didn't tell her. Of course he wouldn't tell her. He wouldn't want to worry her. She feels like she's drowning, and she doesn't want the feeling to stop. It's distracting her from the pain. But then she realizes that he's that one that has made her feel like this, and suddenly- suddenly she doesn't want to be drowning. It's a viscous cycle that never ends. She's enduring so much pain, and she can't tell what's happening. She doesn't know how to dull the pain.

Liam calls her land line, leaving a message. He apologizes countless times, then he tells her the details for Killian's funeral. Liam knew. He knew Killian was sick. He was prepared for this, but no one had the decency to tell Emma. She isn't going to show up. She didn't go to her parent's funeral either. Soon after he calls, she's drowning again.

There's a knock on her door, she knows it was Liam. She waits 15 minutes before opening the door. In front of her door is a long skinny box, tied with a purple bow. She furrows her eyebrows, taking it in her apartment. As she opens it, she's careful to salvage every last piece of tape. Inside the box is a red rose, and a swan necklace, jewels encrusted along the neck. There's a card there too, and she swears Killian's scent still lingers on it. 'A swan for my Swan. I love you. -Killian.'

He loved her. He felt the same way. There weren't just best friends. They were more. Suddenly the emotions slam into her yet again, taking her breath away. It's a hurricane of sadness. An angry, depressed, jumbled up storm. It's all too much. How is she supposed to deal with this? Is this what the world has to offer her? If so, she doesn't want it. She's lost her parents, her future baby brother or sister, she's lost the man she had loved, before she even knew what love was. She lost everyone.

She didn't think it was possible, but that was the day Emma Swan lost herself.