this is where they go and what they do
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(emma runs away and Killian pursues, Henry struggles as the author and slowly people are coming to terms.)
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So, in other words- I loved the end of the season.
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(they are more than stories, they are the truth.)
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An island of stone sat far from the shore. A large tower dominated the small island, guarded by jagged rocks surrounding the lonely place.
Killian sat alone on the docks, gaze fixated on the dark tower. Occasionally lightning broke against the horizon as dark waves crashed against the beach. He wondered what the inside looked of the tower, whether she'd filled it and what she was doing. What possibly restrained the dark one from wandering free over Storybrooke, darkness corrupting everything that she ever was.
He took out the flask of rum from his pocket as Henry sat down next to him. He looked tired as he held a journal tight in his grip. "Mom'll be okay," he said. "Good always overcomes." He flipped through the pages of the book. Good always overcomes was written in the boy's elegant script. The writing was small and numerous, filling up every inch of space on the thick cream paper.
Killian smiled thinly. "Don't suppose you and that might pen can fix this, can you?"
"The author can't interfere," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."
"Not you, mate. Bleeding Rumpelstiltskin. He's the reason for all of this, isn't he?"
The man had become a saint overnight, it seemed. His entire store had been emptied in his desire to return everything stolen from the town. Belle had been persistent in her need to nurse him, fetching tea and an ensuring that Rumple rested despite that the damage had been removed. He was cured from centuries of grief and terrible actions, leaving a man feverish in love.
"I miss her. Grandma and gramps are different now, and even mom is being distant again."
"Aye, Swan has a habit for making people miss her, it seems. But, if anyone can beat the Dark One, Emma will."
Henry thinks back to the tower in the other reality, how her eyes had been wild in despair. The redness of her wrists, the exhaustion in her thin frame. "She's tired. Or, she was tired. Mom can only take so much before she breaks."
"We'll be there to pick her back up," Killian swore. "We'll always be there." Not running away from her and leaving her out to hang, he thought with bitterness. "Don't worry there, Emma will return. She'll return with a golden heart."
He looked up at the pirate thoughtfully. "Do you think Mom'll glitter?"