So this little ficlet idea came about because my two friends, A and M, were talking about some angsty scene from The Vampire Diaries and my muse perked up and went - hey, write it. So I did. I apologize for the angst in advance!

As always enjoy, and reviews feed the muse!

Part 1

And there's no remedy for memory. Your face is like a melody, it won't leave my head. Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine. :But I wish I was dead. (Dead like you)

She started to see him almost instantly.

He was there, standing off to the side in the shadow of the treeline, his hook glinting in the moonlight as her father knelt quietly beside her. He was beside her father when the paramedics arrived and through her blurred vision and sobs of his name she watched his hand rise to rest on her father's shoulder, the simple touch seeming to give David the strength to pull Emma away from Killian's lifeless body even as she fought every step. He stood next to the gurney as the paramedics gently lifted him, watching in silent contemplation as they covered him with a white sheet. He was by her side as they started to take him away, her grip on his cold hand tight until she heard him whisper, "Let go, love." He stood behind her mother as Emma fell into her arms, sobs wracking her body as those too-blue eyes watched her sadly.

She didn't know how long she stayed wrapped in her mother's comforting embrace - it could have been minutes or hours - but the next thing she knew her mother was gently moving her to her father's arms and Emma grasped his strong form tightly, willing his strength to ground her while her entire world spiraled out of control. Killian was still there, now stood next to her father as Regina moved to talk to her mother. Their voices were low, almost hushed whispers, but their words carried back to her as if the two women were stood right next to her.

"What do we now?" Mary Margaret asked quietly, the pain she felt for her daughter evident in her voice.

"All we can do is be there for Emma," Regina responded, her own voice strained with emotion. "Make sure she's comfortable, give her time to grieve and… and make arrangements for the burial."

Through her tears she saw her mother's eyes flicker toward her before looking back at Regina. "She's not in any kind of state to do that, Regina. I don't think she will be for some time."

The former Evil Queen sighed, her hands moving to the pockets of her coat. "I can… help with that."

"You can?" Mary Margaret asked in surprise.

Regina nodded. "I can have the pir- Killian moved from the hospital to my vault, keep his body preserved with an enchantment spell until she's ready to say good-bye."

"That's kind of you, Regina."

"I know what's she going through… somewhat," Regina whispered sadly. "When Daniel died I- I wasn't able to fully let go. It's why I preserved him."

Mary Margaret nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

"Of course. I'll take Henry home with me tonight as well. She needs space and time to heal right now."

The rest of their conversation drifted away from her as her eyes moved back to the unmoving form of Killian stood next to her father, his own attention on her. Unable to handle the sight of those blue eyes that would never shine with love for her again she buried her face in her father's chest, a ragged, "Dad" escaping her.

"I know," David gently whispered, cradling the back of her head as if she were still a baby. "I know."

He walked behind her and her parents the entire way back to town, his boots making no noise as they walked along the pavement, a smile of comfort on his lips every time she looked over her shoulder. He stood in silent support as she told her parents she wanted to go back to the house, to their home, that she just needed to be alone for the night - even if she wasn't truly alone. He was there every step she took toward the house he and Henry had picked out, slowly climbing the stairs with her and waiting patiently by the front door as she fumbled for the house keys. He was sat in the chair she had imagined would be his as she curled into a ball on the couch, her hand clasped tightly around the ring he had given her all those weeks ago, silent tears streaming down her cheeks until exhaustion overtook her.

He stayed through the night, her swollen eyes opening periodically from sleep to find him never far from her and she would quickly shut her eyes at finding him in the room, fresh tears falling from her closed eyes as the urge to sleep overwhelmed her. Come morning he was still there, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles while she lay on her back tracing the flower design on his brother's ring, her eyes fixed on the ceiling above her and desperately trying not to acknowledge the presence she knew couldn't be there.

Because Killian was dead and she had been the one to kill him.

"It wasn't your fault, love. No one is to blame for what happened to me except for myself."

Emma's eyes shut at the familiar accented voice, her index finger digging almost painfully into the side of the ring around her neck. The very ring that he believed had kept him alive for centuries, one of the few links he had left to his beloved brother and he had given it to her in Camelot without a second thought. Would he have survived his altercation with Arthur without Excalibur cutting him if he had it?

"You can't think like that, Swan."

"You aren't really here," she whispered into the quiet room, fresh tears gathering behind her closed eyes. He couldn't be here. She had been there when he crumbled to the ground, her ear pressed over his heart as it beat for the last time. Killian was in Regina's vault, the former Evil Queen's whispered words to her mother that she would keep his body preserved until Emma was ready to say good-bye echoing back to her.

He wasn't here.

"Open your eyes, Emma."

Her eyes opened instinctively at the sound of her given name and not one of his terms of endearment or even her last name. Blinking against the tears clouding her vision she turned her head to see him now sitting on the small coffee table beside her, leaning forward with his arms resting on his parted thighs, his fingers absently running along the curve of his hook. The clothes he had donned as the Dark One were gone, his lean and muscular frame once again encased in the familiar black leather of his pirating days, shirt and vest opened an obscene amount as his long coat fit him like a glove. Eyes that were somehow bright despite his current status of being dead looked at her, worry evident in their blue depths.

"Emma…"

"You died," she croaked, voice thick with unshed tears. He blinked in surprise at her direct question, momentarily thrown off guard after she had spent the entire night pretending he wasn't there.

"Aye," he quietly replied, eyes never leaving her. "I did."

"I don't… I don't understand. How are you here then?"

His fingers stilled momentarily on his hook, something flickering within the depths of his eyes before he slowly shook his head. "I'm not sure why I'm here, love. All I know is something stopped my soul from fully going to the Underworld."

Unable to detect a lie from his words she started to ask another question when a thought struck her, causing her eyes to widen and her heart to beat frantically. "But the Darkness… if you're still here then it wasn't destroyed. Everyone is still in danger-"

Killian held up hand and hook to stop her. "The Darkness was destroyed, Swan. The fact you are no longer cursed by it is proof enough of that. I died and despite this projection of myself most of my soul went to the Underworld, fulfilling the requirement to break the Dark Curse once and for all."

Emma slowly sat up on the couch, her heart still pounding against her chest. "I don't understand. Your body is in Regina's vault and if your soul went to the Underworld then… then what am I seeing in front of me right now?"

"Just a glimpse of my soul that, for whatever reason, was unable to leave this realm."

With eyes dry for the first time in twelve hours she really looked at him. Whatever she was seeing looked real enough - he was solid, full of color and life despite the circumstances, his chest even rising and falling softly as he breathed. The wound from Excalibur that had appeared seconds before he collapsed in her arms was gone, not a hint that the ancient blade's cut in Camelot had ever been there. Even his red vest was untouched from where she had stabbed him, not a cut or blood marring the embroidered fabric.

"So you're a… ghost?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "For lack of a better word, aye, I suppose I am."

"A bit different than the Hollywood version of ghosts having to inhabit bodies in order to communicate," she mumbled.

Killian tilted his head. "I know when you're referencing something I don't know, love."

Emma smiled but then had to blink back fresh tears. He really did always know when she was quoting or referencing something from her world and he always took it in stride, never becoming flustered at his lack of knowledge or feeling like she was intentionally trying to make him feel out of place. It was their thing, one of those little quirks all relationships eventually develop and now… now she was left with experiencing those moments with his ghost rather than the flesh and blood man he had been.

"Swan, everything alright?"

Emma nodded, the urge to feel warm leather and skin beneath her fingertips overwhelming her. Grasping his brother's ring tightly in her left hand she whispered, "Can I touch you?"

"I- I don't know. It would seem I'm able to interact with the environment around me as I'm able to sit on the table here but I… No one has touched me since I appeared at the lake."

"Please," she quietly pleaded, her voice sounding vulnerable even to her own ears. After a brief pause he softly nodded, unable to deny her anything even in death. Never letting go of the ring that had become her anchor since their return to Storybrooke Emma leaned forward, cautiously reaching for him. Her right hand hovered above his arm for a moment, eyes fixed on the sharp instrument that had never made him less of a man in her eyes before slowly bringing it down.

But instead of soft leather beneath her fingertips there was only air, her hand passing through his arm and leg as if he were nothing more than smoke.

Emma's face instantly crumbled, the tears she had been holding back cascading down her cheeks as a sob tore through her body. It was like losing him all over again. With her heart breaking into a million pieces she jerked her hand back to her lap, her body doubling over as heaving sobs shook her entire frame, breath catching in her throat with every one of them. What had she ever done to deserve this type of pain? She could see him, talk to him, even hear the movements of his long jacket as he undoubtedly moved to comfort her but she couldn't do something as simple as touch him.

Hadn't she already lost enough with him dying?

"Swan… Emma, it's okay. Don't cry, love."

Emma shook her head as more tears fell from her closed eyes. "I-I can't do this," she sobbed. Not being able to reach out and take his hand was a stark reminder that although a part of him had stayed behind, he wasn't really there. Her Killian, the one who would wrap her in leather clad arms and who could soothe her very soul with just a touch of his hand, was gone - forever.

"Emma, I'm still here."

"But yo-you're not," she gasped, hand tightening around his brother's ring. "You're gone, Killian. You're dead and it- it's all my fault."

She was about to tell him to just go, that she couldn't handle being able to see him but not touch him when she felt it. The sensation of a warm breeze brushed her cheek but instead of disappearing as quickly as it had come it stayed, a constant movement against her flushed face. And it had a smell. It was the unmistakable smell of the ocean, so strong she could have been standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger in the midst of that vast and blue wonder rather than sitting in her living room. Her eyes flew open as her head jerked up to find Killian kneeling on the floor in front of her, his hand gently cupping her cheek.

"Emma-"

"I can feel that."

Blue eyes widened slightly at her words. "You can?"

Emma nodded, sniffling as her tears momentarily stopped. "It's not- it's not like your normal touch. I can't feel… you but it's… it's like a breeze out on the ocean."

His eyes fell to where his hand rested against her cheek and she watched as he moved his hand further back until his fingers ghosted along the side of her neck, the warm breeze moving as he did and causing the hair that had fallen over her shoulder to blow slightly as he touched it.

"Did you feel that?"

Emma nodded again, her eyes locked on him. She saw him raise his hooked arm from his side out of her peripheral vision and seconds later she felt another breeze, this time a few degrees colder against her hand that still held his ring.

"And that?"

"Yes," Emma gasped, glancing down to see his hook touching the back of her hand and not falling through her. Looking back up at him she smiled for the first time in six weeks.

"You can touch me."

"Aye," he breathed, eyes a bright blue. "I can."

As he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers with the soft breeze that marked his touch now caressing her entire face, Emma closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotions that hit her. The ever present sadness that had settled into her very soul as he took his last breath still lingered there, a constant reminder that he wasn't truly here, that nothing would ever be the same for her without him. But beneath that she could feel a spark of joy at having just this last image of him, to still be able to talk to him and hear his voice, and to have the sensation of a touch from him. This was her chance to ask for forgiveness, to let him know how truly sorry she was for everything - sacrificing herself to the Darkness, her decision to go against his wishes in Camelot, every ounce of hurt she had made him endure when they returned to Storybrooke - all of it.

But before she could say any of the words that needed to be said a dark and familiar whispering filled her mind. Eyes snapping open she leaned away from Killian, the warm breeze of his touch disappearing as she looked around the room.

"Swan? What's wrong?"

"I can hear it," she murmured, trying to focus on where the sound was coming from.

Killian furrowed his brow in confusion. "You can hear what, love?"

"The dagger… it's calling to me."

"That's impossible," he responded, quickly moving so he was standing in front of her instead of kneeling. "The Darkness was destroyed with my death."

"I know," she agreed, looking up at him, "But I hear it Killian. I lived with that voice in my head for weeks, I know what it sounds like. You can't hear it?"

Killian shook his head. "No, I don't. It can't be that, Swan. The Darkness is gone, you more than likely just need a good night's rest."

He was right, the Darkness was gone but she also knew she wasn't imagining the whisper. That sound would forever haunt her dreams, the silent call of the dagger to its master, and despite the golden locks that tumbled around her shoulders and the feel of her light magic humming beneath her skin, she was still hearing it. It was impossible but… Focusing on the sound she let it mentally pull her to where it was coming from and when she discovered its location her eyes snapped back to Killian.

"It's coming from Gold's shop."

"This isn't indicative of the dagger being here, Swan," Killian commented from his spot beside her, causing her to give him her best really? look.

They had left the house within moments of Emma pinpointing where the call of the dagger was coming from, Killian reminding her over and over again on the short walk to Gold's shop that she couldn't possibly be hearing the Darkness. She didn't deny that it was impossible. The Dark Curse had to have been broken in order for her to physically revert back to being the Savior and for Excalibur, whose blade held the dagger that had controlled every Dark One since Nimue, to crumble into ash. But she couldn't let the possibility of the Darkness surviving go until she had investigated it, not when the man she loved had died in order to destroy it and all she was left with of him was his ghost walking beside her.

After texting Gold to meet her there they had broken into the shop - "Always knew you were a pirate, love" - and once inside the call of the dagger had been stronger, physically pulling her to the main counter. She had seen nothing that resembled a dagger but the whispering was still there, louder and more urgent, with only Killian's voice breaking through the continuous call of the blade to its former master.

"What makes you say that?" she asked, leaning her weight on the display case as she once again tried to find the source of the whispering.

"Gold was the Dark One for centuries, love. I would be shocked if he didn't have objects with nefarious magic lying about his shop that your magic was picking up on."

"It's not just black magic," Emma murmured. "It's the Darkness."

Killian tilted his head toward her. "Swan, I told you-"

"I know, I know. It's impossible but I'm telling you-"

"Telling me what, Miss Swan?"

Emma turned to see Gold entering the shop, dressed in his normal dark suit and watching her intently. She forced herself not to look in Killian's direction - the last thing she needed was for Gold to find out she was seeing her dead boyfriend - and smiled disarmingly at the pawn shop owner.

"Nothing, I was just talking to myself."

Gold stared at her for a long moment, carefully scrutinizing her as if weighing the truth of her words before walking further into the shop. "That's a dangerous habit to have, Miss Swan. That being said, this isn't the library or Granny's or some bus station - this is my shop. And unless the sign says open, you're not invited."

"You always did have the manners of a kraken," Killian muttered under his breath.

Ignoring Killian's response - and mentally making a note to ask him if krakens really did exist - Emma watched Gold settle behind the counter.

"I think I was invited," she replied steadily. "I hear whispers. It's the dagger, calling to me."

Gold stilled, the emotionless mask he always had in place slipping for the briefest moment to reveal surprise before quickly recovering - but not quick enough to hide the slip from her. Shaking his head he responded, "You're upset, imagining things-"

"No, I'm not," Emma interrupted, more certain than ever that what she was hearing was in fact the call of the Darkness. "It's here, isn't it? You have it."

Gold stared at her, seeming to ponder her question as if she had just asked him to do the right thing and save someone's life. When he made no move to speak she felt the warm breeze that signaled Killian's touch against her arm, even through the leather of her jacket. "Swan, I told you-"

Before Killian could finish his sentence Gold looked down in amused resignation, reaching into the display case between them and bringing a sheathed item up. "Yes, I do," the pawn shop owner admitted, removing the piece of cloth to reveal a dagger, similar in size and shape to the original one with Rumplestiltskin carved into the depth of the blade.

"Bloody hell," Killian muttered beside her and she didn't have to look at him to know his eyes were fixed on the newly minted dagger like her own were. She hadn't been imagining the whispering. It was the dagger calling to her, a newly made one, with Gold's real name emblazoned on it. But that could only mean one thing….

"You are the Dark One… again," she whispered, still unable to fully process what she was seeing.

"Yes," Gold chuckled. "I'd hoped to keep that a secret. Wasn't expecting you to hear it but most ex Dark Ones are dead."

Emma looked up from the dagger to Gold's gloating face, her eyes widening in shock. She knew she had heard the whispering but to have confirmation… "How is this possible?" she asked at the same time she heard Killian growl, "What did you do, Crocodile?"

"When you came to me asking for the sword I seen an opportunity," Gold explained, "A chance I had never imagined would present itself again. As fate would have it, a small vial of magic was close at hand. One sprinkle, and I knew I could get it all back." Gold smirked. "I turned the sword into a conduit so that while Hook thought he was destroying the darkness, he was actually… moving it, channeling it some place safe."

"Into you," she summarized, anger lacing her words.

"He had no idea," Gold supplied, moving to lean on the counter. "And now, things are as they should be."

White hot anger flared within Emma. How dare this coward of a man make Killian's death in vain. "Killian sacrificed himself and you took that away from him," she seethed, raising her right hand with every intent to strangle the pawn shop owner with her bare hand. Before she could reach him Gold held up his own hand, instantly freezing her in place. Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked to see Killian, who had somehow gotten around the counter lunge at Gold with his hook, eyes dark with rage. Her heart hammered against her chest at the idea of Gold discovering Killian's soul wasn't fully in the Underworld but that fear was quickly squashed when Killian's form turned transparent as his hook connected with the Dark One's back, sending him stumbling through Gold and to the floor of the pawnshop.

She watched in surprise as Gold visibly shivered while Killian's sudden transparent form passed through him before turning his head, as if expecting to see the source of the breeze he had felt. Upon not finding anything he turned his attention back to her, releasing his magical hold on her.

"Do you honestly think that you can hurt me?" he calmly asked. "I now have the combined power of every Dark One who ever lived… including you."

Emma stared at the pawn shop owner in disgust. "You found a loophole and betrayed us all, again."

"It's what I do," Gold replied with a shrug, straightening to his full height. "It's the man I am."

Killian, once again in solid form rose at that moment from his hard fall to the floor and an idea formed in Emma's mind. It was insane at best, one she knew Killian would fight her on, but there was one silver lining to Gold being the Dark One again.

"Well then, Dark One," she began, squaring her shoulders. "Now that you have your power back, you're going to do something for me."

Killian's dark head snapped up at her words, blue eyes wide with worry. "Swan, what are you doing?"

Gold scoffed. "And why would I do anything for you?"

"Emma…"

"Because I still have magic," she stated, ignoring Killian's continued pleas. "And I'm willing to bet I can get to Belle and tell her everything before you can kill me."

"Don't test me," Gold threatened.

"Don't test me," Emma snapped, her palms sparking with her magic. "You really want to take that chance? That she will once again know the kind of man you really are?"

Killian moved around the counter then, coming to stand so close to her she could feel the breeze of his touch over her whole body, hoping that Gold didn't notice the slight movement of her hair. "Emma… love, what are you doing? You know better than to make a deal with the bloody Crocodile."

"There is no deal," she said, answering Killian as much as she was telling Gold. "You will help me and expect nothing but my silence in return, do you understand me, Dark One?"

She watched Gold contemplate his options, his index finger carefully running along the edge of his new dagger. She knew this man, knew that above everything else he coveted power and Belle's love and he wouldn't risk losing Belle now that he had both back. And she was going to make damn sure that if the lying bastard got to have everything he wanted, she was going to get what she wanted back.

Looking up at her Gold asked in defeat, "What do you want, Miss Swan?"

"Swan…."

"It's simple. You're going to take me to the Underworld so I can get Killian back."