Disclaimer: If I owned them, there would be no hiatus. So I wish.

Tick… Tock… Tick…

Emma hated moments like this - moments when she was alone, lonely with nothing to do; the contemplativeness just being the cherry on the top. She despised these moments of solitude especially at times like this. Normally, she would nearly kill to get some lone time, but with those words out in the air… it was a different story altogether.

Tick… Tock… Tick…

Sitting by the window, she glanced at the clock. The methodic tick of the clock quite often soothed her senses. The rhythm hovering in the quietness lulled her and provided her comfort. Over the time, she had developed a sort of fondness towards it, because in her almost lonely life, the ever changing ticking was the only constant, no matter how absurd it sounded. But she didn't care, because in those lonely moments spent in her cold apartments she would gaze at it, watching the time pass by, the world change but her life remaining on the stand still it was. It gave her a sense of pride because finally she was the master of her own life, she could direct it as she wanted… she was independent… lonely but free.

Not happy… but not sad either…

But she had observed that her life itself was a creature of habit… giving her a reality check occasionally… that she was too broken to be loved… that she was the orphan whom nobody loved.

And she loathed those moments with all her being. Because in the end she herself had to pick up her own pieces and it was too damn difficult to do it. In the end she would always emerge out as a victor with one more part of her heart hardened.

It was almost six months since Swans had adopted her. They were nice people, they loved her and even Emma liked her. It was nice… and nice meant a lot to her as a kindergartner. They were given a task to draw their family. She was new, and was unfamiliar with the term. Ms. Jules had explained what a family was. Her mind drew the image of her foster parents, and she did the same on paper. When she showed it to her parents she was treated with ice cream and teary eyes.

Some weeks later, she told them she loved them.

And few months later, she was being sent back.

Next time this happened with her friend – Lily. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't conventional, but it was something she cherished. Finding a kindred spirit who understood her was hard to come by, especially when the guys in the group home always picked upon you and the pretty girls looked down upon you as if you were nothing but trash.

For a long time she believed it. Because the only family she ever loved had sent her back.

But then Lily came in her life. She held onto her. She was her light. They were thick as thieves and they made so many memories. Finally Emma felt as if her life could be beautiful, like the ones showed in movies. She loved her friend for being there for her. She expressed it to her, and they made friendship bracelets to remember the day.

But then weeks later, Lily's family came for her.

And then Emma didn't have one.

By the time she met Ingrid, she had started hardening herself. But she was a caring parent. She always looked after her, was always there for her and made her feel loved and wanted. Slowly Emma became the girl she was. She loved Ingrid, she told her so and the sentiment was returned.

She was happy, and she felt, maybe the earlier mishaps weren't her fault. They were never meant to happen.

But then Ingrid threw her in front of the car, literally, so that she could perform magic.

And the next day, she was sent back.

All it took was meeting the right guy. She met Neal, fell for him hard and fast.

She confessed her love to him. He said it back.

Four months after, she was behind the bar with a pregnancy stick in her hand.

So she started tracing the clock. Timing how long it took for a relationship – platonic or otherwise to blow up in her face.

Consequently, all the relationships that followed, scarce they may be; she shied away from saying those three words. There was a boy named Anthony, in one of the foster homes. He had called her a witch in one of the fights. Emma had then fought tooth and nail against him.

She now completely agreed with him, because no matter what the situation was, or who the guy was, or regardless how they had met, Emma was doomed to have everyone ripped out of her life.

Graham… Henry… her parents… even Walsh.

The separation might not be amiable but the separation always followed after her admission. Graham died, Henry was struck by a sleeping curse, she had to forget her parents… and Walsh turned out to be a flying monkey.

So yeah, Anthony got it damn right. She was a witch… vis-à-vis her Saviour abilities, she also had the ability to drive people away, after her confession.

Tick… Tock.. Tick…

She knew Killian was different. The man had literally moved realms to get to her, never gave up and always came back for her.

(She didn't downplay the conviction of his words. She didn't.

It was just that she knew how the story would end.

People didn't call it experience just like that.)

The countdown was set, she had said those words, and it was just a matter of time before everything blew up.

It was inevitable. She knew it.

But it didn't mean that it hurt any less.

He knew there was something bothering her. Sometimes she was distant, and sometimes she held onto him like he would vanish in a blink. But more often than not, he would find her staring at the clock as if something would happen in the next moment, but it never did. He tried to look it over, but it continued and he couldn't help worry.

As it all started after she had finally said those words.

And he felt as if this was eating her inside, and he couldn't help feel hurt.

"Love what's wrong?"

Emma looked up startled. She didn't hear him come in. Taking in her surrounding and her position, she realized she must have dozed off.

"Nothing… I must have dozed off. What are you doing here?"

She tries getting up but Killian holds her restricting the movement.

"You were asleep by the window, Love. The position wasn't comfortable, even by my standards." He winks earning an eye roll. "So I shifted you here… but you seemed so fidgety. Were you having a bad dream?"

Her heart swoons over the concern in his voice. Just when she thinks there's no more to his affection for her… he just had to do… well this. But she replies exasperatedly nonetheless.

(She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of sweeping her off the feet every single time.

But she is pretty sure, he knows what he does.

But she pretends nonetheless.)

"Killian I am not a child. You could have just waked me up."

"And disturb your beauty sleep. Not a chance. You look beautiful while you are asleep."

"That's really creepy… you know that, don't you?" She rolls her eyes, as he gives her that smug grin and answers.

"Deny all you want Swan, but you love it… and since I am not going anywhere, so you just have to do with it."

And just like that, her heart quickens its pace. Because leave it to this man, to turn a random conversation into a promise of forever.

She is pretty sure, she is blushing and she really doesn't try to hide it.

But as soon as the flutter comes to her, the dread accompanies it.

It has been 5 months, 2 weeks, 3 days and 8 hours since she said those words.

(Not that she was counting.

She just happens to be good with dates and math.)

But she has taken a second more, to get lost in her musings, and he notices. He always does.

"Emma… what's wrong?"

"Nothing…." She turns away, trying to deflect the conversation, but he tightens his arms around her, leaving no room for leaving.

(She realizes now that they are on her bed, alone with no upcoming danger. It's really a perfect time, but one look at his face clears it out, that even the promise of other enjoyable activities can deter him from his path.

She loves and hates his persistence in equal amounts.)

Taking a deep breath, she starts telling him. She tells him bout all her foster homes, all the scanty relationships she had, all the failures of her love life. He listens to her patiently recite the relationship failures of her life. A tear trickles down her eyes… she only realizes because he rubs it off her face.

"So it's a fact that our relation might be one of them. Every day I assure myself, then it is not… but you know how much belief I can actually have… so…"

"So you think, months from now, I would be walking away… or at least forced to walk away from you."

"Uh… huh… I know you said you are a survivor… but get this nothing is certain. Is it?"

Emma replied, falling back more into his embrace. Placing a kiss, he pulled her closer.

"Hmmm… so how about this? I remind you from time to time that I am still here. And you can tell me you love me whenever you feel you are ready again. There's a deadline to this walking away? Isn't it? So when your heart is convinced that I am not going anywhere… and you stop watching that bloody clock… don't deny it, I have noticed and for a while, you had me jealous of the bloody cuckoo clock."

Emma chuckled while he gave a mock glare. She snuggled closer as he continued.

"And the day you wake up feeling that the clock is no longer your only companion, is the day you say those words back. Deal?"

She just shook her head in approval, too comfortable to break the moment.

The moment does break an hour later, where the temptation to give in to those enjoyable activities becomes too much.

But neither she nor he is complaining.

(She says those words within a week. But still stare at the clock.

"It's a deal breaker, Swan."

"You did say I will make one hell of a pirate. And Captain Swan doesn't listen to others."

He laughs and continues his work.)

A month later, she wakes up. He is still sleeping with the sheets leaving his back bare. Resting her weight by the elbow she turns towards him and stares at his sleeping form.

(She will deny if she he ever calls it out.)

"I love you." She whispers against his face, and places a kiss on his forehead. The sun has barely risen, and the light falls on him making him look so peaceful. She continues staring for a long time, lightly tracing the scars, barely touching them. It's the tranquility of the moment she enjoys.

She doesn't look at the clock, when she is sitting by the window. Instead she remembers the morning.

This time, when he comes home, she is awake and she calls out.

"I love you."

Tick… Tock… Tick…

'I know' – is his reply with a soft smile adorning his lips. A match to her own.

And she knows that he understands that the time has passed.

Thoughts.