This is some mix of reaction to 5x07 with speculation and feels for what may be coming. Nothing that spoiler-y if you're caught up with the episodes that have aired. I do however have to continue reliving the beauty and pain of CS all week to bide my time from one show to the next. I hope you enjoy – and I obviously don't own them!

"Hold on Tight (and don't let go)"

She wants – no, needs – to believe, now more than ever. She is desperate to understand how he can still have such unwavering faith in her. After all he has seen from her since the Darkness slipped in – and even before, when she was willing to wound with a careless word or scar him as she pushed him away to protect her own walled heart – and after all he simple knows, reading her and understanding her more clearly than anyone else she has ever met, Emma simply cannot fathom how Killian Jones still looks at her with such softness and affection in his pretty blue eyes, how he still uplifts her with such unwavering faith. He should know better than most – as he has suffered the most for it – that she has slipped beyond recovery.

So why is he still here?

She fumbles at the cowl neck of her black, leathery outfit, oddly missing the soft knit wool of the sweaters she used to favor, and pulls the ring out from where it has rested, hidden against her skin, since Killian gave it to her in Camelot. Emma stares at the metal circle, nearly slipping it onto her forefinger, just as she had wanted to that first day, when she set out with Merlin, then instead clenches it tightly in her fist. Though it is too late to help her guide herself back to the light, she still cannot let it go.

Looking back to Killian's face, she bites her lip, holding back the words – the explanation that will never be enough. She shakes her head, whispering to him as he brings his good hand up to cradle the side of her face, "It's over, Killian. Why are you still here?"

~~~~~00000~~~~~

Back in Camelot, when Emma and Merlin had reached the place where he intended them to contact Nimue, she had looked to the other wizard hopefully, uncertainly, anxious to see this mission through and just maybe return to herself. It was relatively simple to put faith in Merlin, her internal lie detector finding no glimmer of deceit in him, only earnest desire to help and to guide, to show her what must be done to vanquish the Dark One's power within.

They had stood in that clearing as Emma drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for the temptation and possible pain ahead. Merlin had said no more – knowing there was only so much he could do to prepare her, and that ultimately Emma's resolve, her choice, would be all that could save them both. Carefully, slowly, she had raised the dagger, holding it up before her eyes and readying herself to summon the first Dark One. Emma had found her other hand coming up to clasp at Killian's ring. 'You can do this,' the repeating mantra in her head lilted to her in his voice, the strength to believe it hinging on this tiny piece of her Love still with her in the moment.

Even when the deceptively persuasive woman had leant in close – whispering what the power could do, who Emma could be with such magic, swearing that Emma need never fear again, another voice carried on in her head as well. One that was welcome. She could hear his warm, caressing words of adoration, as if his lips were right against her ear, reminding her that he loves every part of her, that she – Emma – is already enough, bloody brilliant even, that they can find another way together, and that he has yet to see her fail. When she does fight back, pushing Nimue from her with fervent denial of her deathly charms, Emma knows the argument is true. The Dark One wants her to feel she is nothing without its power, but she is no longer the Lost Girl who has to fall for such lies. Just as she holds tight to the physical memento he gave her for an anchor, she holds onto their love until Nimue is beaten back, left to the shadows of her mind – not defeated permanently, but enough to leave Emma with the Prometheus spark…and a ray of hope.

~~~~00000~~~~

The memory fades as Emma stares into Killian's ruggedly handsome face now, so close that her forehead rests against his and she can search his eyes for the answer which escapes her grasp.

"Why am I still here?" Killian asks, voice raw with emotion. "Because I must know. I need to see the Emma I love. She isn't gone completely…and I will not desert her." Raising his blunted left arm, he ever-so-gently traces the apple of her cheek with the cool steel curve of his hook, brushing away the single tear that rolls down her face, as effortlessly endearing as the way he had always used it to tuck her loose hair behind her ear. The severe bun she keeps it in now prevents him from that simple gesture she had always secretly loved, but it doesn't stop his little motions to take care of her; at this point, Emma feels they slip from her pirate as easily as breathing.

Leaning her head to the side, into the touch of his appendage as naturally as if it were the hand it replaced, Emma finds that she craves the feel of his skin, his heat against the cold inside her, his arms she has deprived herself of for too long. Maybe he has caught the Darkness unaware, maybe she really is breaking through to the surface of this horrible, frigid shell she took on. For whatever reason, Emma wants to savor this moment, to be Emma again and allow herself the closeness and comfort of her Killian for as long as she can. If only the knowledge that it cannot last were not already licking at the back of her mind. 'He doesn't know…' the demon in her head taunts, 'doesn't truly realize just what you've done, how far you've fallen…'

But Killian is already shaking his head in denial, that limitless blue of his gaze beseeching her not to pull away, to shrink back within the Dark Swan again. "Don't do that, Emma," he murmurs, tracing his thumb over her trembling chin. "Stay with me."

She jerks away, her eyes falling closed against the pain. "You're the one who won't stay. The price for what I've done…" Her words pile up in her throat, choking her as she swallows reflexively, trying to force them through.

"Whatever it is," he presses, no doubt in his tone or on his face, "you can come back from it. You can still defeat this."

Fisting her hand so tightly around his ring that she feels the metal indenting her skin, Emma presses that fist to her chest as if to hold herself together with that touch alone. Even as she fears Killian may be wrong, she prays fervently that he words may be true. A small, crooked smile graces the corner of her pirate's mouth, because, just as he always does, even now he knows.