Hello, can you hear me?

I've been California dreaming

About who we used to be

Adele/"Hello"

Killian stood on the edge ofthe library's roof, the velvety night air wrapped around him like a cloak, looking down upon the fluttering autumn leaves and scuttling fairytale people of Storybrooke. A tear trickling down his face, a flask in his hand, the pirate reminisced about everything that had happened in this town. So much had passed by his eyes in such a short amount of time. And now it was all catching up to him, a giant wave about to smash on his head, to break his fragile body, which was already cracking at the seams.

The wave crashed. The memories flooded his mind. He heard himself talking to Emma for the first time, he watched them dancing, he felt her cold body, the light nearly extinguished by the frost of hypothermia. His hands clenched, grabbing a phantom beanstalk, a ghost of the past. And his lips mouthed the words "as you wish," those three words he had said after their first kiss, those three words that really held a deeper meaning.

"I love you."

Killian had known he loved her from the start. He swore on Emma Swan, and he was most definitely a man of his word. Even when he wasn't sure if she felt the same way, he knew he would never stop loving her, for she was the light in his darkness, his anchor, his sun. His elegant white swan swimming through a starlit black lake. And then, when, after all that time, she repeated those three words to him, he lost her.

He lost her and he didn't know if he would ever get her back. And then he did, he got her back, and it broke his heart. To watch her fighting the darkness, pushing back, struggling. And when he looked in her eyes, he saw the same dark fire that had taken over his mind, had burned in his soul for so long. And back in Storybrooke, that day on his ship, that day when he had lied to Emma, when he told her he loved her no longer.

Of course he still loved her, but he couldn't bear to see her this way. It reminded him too much of his past, of the darkness that even now sometimes threatened to engulf him. He wanted so badly to be able to take it away, to solve all her troubles. To ride off into the sunset on a white horse, outrunning all their troubles. Wasn't that how fairy tales were supposed to go? How true love was meant to be?

Killian knew what he had to do to save Emma. Why else would he be standing here on the top of this clock tower, this clock tower that was currently ticking away the minutes he had left to live? It was for Emma. It was always for Emma. Killian Jones had always prided himself upon his ability to survive. But he knew that if there was ever one thing he would give his life for, it was his swan.

Tick. The clock moved. 8:13. "Emma Swan…" Killian whispered, so softly that the words were lost to the wind. He took a deep breath. He was ready.

Tick. 8:14. "Emma Swan." Killian uttered the words a bit louder this time. He went to take a swig from his flask, but it was empty. Where's your rum, Captain? Her voice in his ears. He began to take a step.

Tick. 8:15. The most significant time in this entire town, at least to her. He stepped off the roof. "EMMA SWAN!" Killian shouted this time, plummeting, plummeting. At least she would know what had happened. And his last thought was not for himself, his swan, his troubles. Brother, I'm here.

Seemingly in slow motion, a broken body falls, broken heart shattering against the cold, hard, unforgiving ground. And just a second too late, a swirl of black, and a figure, heading towards the so-called survivor, no longer alive.