AN: Just a thing I did. Emma had a nasty cut on her forehead that wasn't tended to. She took a nasty fall, so this is my take on what could have happened next...

Also, just so everyone who reads this knows, I'm currently posting this from my grave. Because 4x02 KILLED me. Don't worry though... I died a happy death. Death by Captain Swan. Pretty awesome way to go, right? - Kate

As soon as she no longer feels like a bloody icycle, he asks if she'd like to keep the heater near her feet. "Nah, I'm good. Blankets are enough now, I think."

"Are you certain?"

"Mhmm," she answers, her eyes half-closed and a sleepy half-smile on her lips.

"On it!" Henry says and moves the heat box back to the other side of the room. Though her color is slowly (finally) starting to return. Emma's still cold. He's grateful for the boy's presence. Good lad, he is. He knows better than to take his mother's word for it.

"So…" Emma says so quietly that only he can hear. "You finally got your dashing rescue."

His brows twitch at her flippancy and he can't help snapping at her. "Not funny, Swan." His voice comes out choked, suddenly overcome with the realization for the hundredth time that evening just how close he came to losing her. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Her eyes open a bit more as his words seem to resonate. She sits further up in the chair and he tightens the hold they have on their hands. "Hey. I'm right here, it's okay. I'm okay."

He closes his eyes tightly, but when he feels her other hand rest atop their joined ones, he can't resist leaning forward. Feeling David's eyes on him, on them, but not caring in the slightest or bothering to verify, Killian presses his lips to his Swan's temple. Her father is the last thing on his mind, especially when he hears her hiss. He pulls back.

"Are you certain you're alright?" he asks, just as he notices the gash on her forehead. How had he not noticed that before? "Bloody hell, you're injured."

"It's a cut," she slurs. "It'll heal."

"I'm well aware what it is," he growls as Emma's mother, father, and son swarm her like moths to a flame. "The point is that you're so –"

"Emma?"

"Does it hurt?"

"I'll get ice!"

And then Mary Margaret is hurrying to the freezer box (he'll never understand the terminology refrigerator) and Henry is following her into the kitchen . "Her hot cocoa is almost ready, right Grandpa?"

"Right," Dave replies distractedly, cupping his daughter's chin in his hand. "Emma, does your head hurt?"

Instantly on guard, he nudges him. "What is it, mate?"

"Look at me." David ignores Killian's question and he turns to look into her eyes as her mother gingerly rests an ice pack against Emma's purplish skin. Her eyes are unfocused, her pupils enlarged.

"No," he whispers and David repeats his request to Emma. "Emma, look at me."

Henry returns with the heated beverage, having heard every word. "She okay?"

"I'm fine, I just wanna look at the insides of my eyelids," she whines and Killian feels his heart slam painfully against his ribcage, and not in the good way. "I'm warm, alright, just let me sleep." She tries to snuggle against him again, but he pries her off of him. "I thought you'd be loving this."

"Aye." He smiles sadly as he responds, she's no idea. "Under any other circumstance…look at your father, love."

"Does your head hurt?"

"It's been pounding since I fell."

"She's got a concussion," he murmurs, frowning and licking his lips nervously.

"That's what it looks like."

David stands to his as Emma's head lulls lifelessly against Killian's chest. "Emma." He shakes her gently. "You can't sleep, darling. Open your eyes."

No response and he feels his heart leap into his throat. Not again.

"Emma?"

"Mom?"

David pulls her from his arms and he willingly lets her go, if he can't help then surely her father can and he watches as he carries his Swan over to the couch.

"We need to take her to the hospital!" Mary Margaret cries, pulling out her cellular device and dialing so swiftly he barely sees the action take place.

Hours pass with no news.

Until they finally get some.

Whale walks out, looking at them all with a solemn expression and then his eyes drop.

No.

"My apologies, but…Miss Swan slipped into a coma."

And at those words, he feels every emotion bleed from him leaving him utterly numb.

"That's not all."

How can it possibly get any worse?

"When Emma fell through the ice, the impact was enough to cause a cerebral hemorrhage. She'll need surgery."

Nearly three weeks pass from that horrific evening, and Emma still hasn't responded. The operation went beautifully, the doctor said but physical proof has yet to make itself known. She hasn't improved, though he supposes he should be glad that her condition hasn't worsened either.

He'd know too as he's every waking moment by her side. Her family visits every day, but the Nolan family has a newborn and Henry's got school. The only reason he's not been kicked out after visiting hours is because he told the staff he's family. Whale knew the truth, and Whale knew better than to keep him from her.

However, if he'd kept her away from that blasted ice wall, none of this would have happened.

They'd be enjoying a quiet dinner…or perhaps not, he thinks. Not with their luck. Their third date would have been more likely to consist of an ice storm or something of that sort.

"You know, love" he tries a hand at light-hearted conversation. "If you wanted more attention, all you had to do was ask."

Her face remains as soft and still as it's been for the last few weeks and he's more than aware at how flat his joke fell. His eyes burn and his vision blurs with unshed tears.

He leaves his chair to sit on the stiff hospital bed next to her and lets his left arm fall against her abdomen and his hook catches on one of the threads of her bed sheets. He doesn't bother to detach it.

"I can't do it," Killian chokes out, "Emma, please, I can't do it." His good hand carefully pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. A brush hasn't been taken to her hair once. It's ratted and dirty, and yet, she's as stunning to him as the first moment he laid eyes on her. If this is one of his last he ever shares with her… "I can't lose anyone else, love. Not again. Not you. Please." He lets out a shaky breath before stroking her cheek, soft as the petal of the most delicate rose, and kisses her lips while his tremble against them.

He pulls back and bows his head, while he absent-mindedly strokes her sheet-covered thigh with his the back of his hook, never ceasing to stroke the side of her face with his good hand.

And then something strange takes place.

A sharp gust of wind pushes through his hair, and his teary eyes whip open.

"What the hell happened?" a voice, a beautiful voice grumbles and his head snaps up to catch her green eyes with his.

"You're awake!" he cries in delight, nearly falling off the bed but righting himself in time. "Bloody hell, Emma, you're awake." A smile forms on his Swan's lips and she nods. "I can't believe it," he manages to get out before failing to resist capturing her lips in a hard kiss. She groans and he rips himself away. "I'm sorry, love, was I too rough?"

"No," she answers breathlessly, "I just didn't realize how much I missed that. You." He laughs as more tears – this time because of joy – slip from his eyes. "How long was I out?"

"It doesn't matter, you're here now." Her hand finds his, tangling their fingers, and it makes his heart jump in the most wonderful way. "You're here and I'm never letting you go again. Gods, love, you frightened me."

"Freaked myself out, too."

He kisses the back of her hand, the one still twined with his. "You saved me…didn't you?"

"I believe so…you weren't improving any and I was babbling nonsense about losing people…and your lips are always tempting me –"

"Killian –"

"You've tempted me from the beginning, you know, and –"

"Hook!" she exclaims, it's quiet and painful he gathers by the wince she sports at the outburst, but it instantly causes his mouth to snap shut. "Thank you."

"No need for that, I'd do it the instant we realized you'd been concussed if I'd known. I…should alert Whale on your consciousness." Before he can clench his jaw and stand to leave, she says his name again.

"Aye?"

Emma gives him a look. "Stop blaming yourself."

"Pardon?" he says, though his lips tease a sideways grin.

"I'm not the only open book around here."

"It appears not," he says before swallowing hard, revealing his inner most thoughts then and there. "I love you, Emma."

Another smile graces her face. His heart jumps another time. "I'm pretty fond of you too."

AN: Thank you for reading. Reviews are love! ~Kate

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