Disclaimer: I don't own any part of this, I just borrow things for a while and then lovingly put them back. :-)


All our love...all our strength...all our trust

Came out of the woodwork

We only notice light when darkness crashes against it

We only notice light deep in the woodwork

"Woodwork" by Sleeping at Last

There are some things that just can't be planned for, things which no one expects to happen, nor do they have any control over them—good or bad. And yet when they finally do happen one suddenly wonders, "Why didn't we see this coming?"

In the center of Storybrooke's main street a week ago, that question was left echoing hollowly in the night, mocked by the sharper sound of the Dark One's dagger clattering against the damp pavement. It had lain there like a taunt, Emma Swan's name emblazoned across it in black twisted letters: a cruel reminder that in the space of two heartbeats Killian Jones had gained and then lost the most precious gift anyone had ever given him.

"I love you..."

Her last words to him—spoken tearfully a split second before she'd pushed him away and then sacrificed herself to the Dark One's curse—echoed in his mind with every breath he took. At times those words were his only reminder to keep breathing, if only to hear them in his mind again.

At the time, none of Emma's family had known exactly what to expect when they saw her next. But of all the scenarios Killian himself had imagined, the reality was violently different.

When they first saw her again, she was the true Emma, all Savior and no trace of dark magic at all. She was hiding out near the town line in hopes that when the darkness took hold again, she'd be as far as possible from the people she loved. Emma had warned them back and spoken quickly, explaining why she'd vanished so suddenly from the town center and giving them some clue about what had happened to her since the moment she'd disappeared. The truth was ugly at best.

Killian and her family had listened in agonized silence as she spoke, warning them that when the Dark One's magic is absorbed by the bearer of the strongest light magic known to any realm, one type of magic would immediately and always seek to destroy the other, the two never able to blend. While one power was at its strongest, Emma herself would change, becoming violent or benign depending on the reigning magic until the other would gain enough strength to temporarily take over. There was little warning before the magics would swap places again, and Emma was using every shred of strength she had at that very moment to maintain a grip on the two warring sides and hold them at bay.

She'd not let them near her, not even Henry; she was too afraid to lose her control and hurt one of them in a dark transition, which she assured them could happen without warning at any moment. And so they'd reluctantly left her there, returning to town to continue their search for the only hope the apprentice had left them—Merlin.

But they'd seen Emma again much sooner than expected. That night she just appearedin the center of town, a dark cloud of crackling black magic trailing behind her. A cruel snarl twisted her mouth, and she'd strode through town magically tossing aside anyone who stood in her way, seeming to take glee in the terror she saw in their eyes. She'd come merely to taunt them, perhaps to sound out the location of where her family had hidden the dagger.

Killian had tried to approach, to reason with her, and he'd gotten thrown bodily into the street for his efforts. Sprawled on his back on the cold pavement, the wind knocked out of him in more than one sense, Killian realized with a sinking heart that the woman who smiled menacingly down at him from where she'd thrown him held no trace of the Emma they'd spoken to that morning. This wasn't the same Emma who had stood in the very spot where he now lay and confessed her love to him before becoming the willing vessel for the Dark One's magic. That Emma—if she was still alive somewhere behind the Dark One—was locked away, her strength to hold off the curse weakened beyond the point of resistance.

As Killian had struggled to his feet to watch her vanish in a swirl of black smoke, he'd vowed to himself that he would find a way—any way—to bring freedom to the Emma he knew and loved. And he was not about to entertain the thought that she was no longer there. She had to be, or he had no purpose left.

That purpose was why he was now striding quickly and silently away from the Charmings' loft, bearing a straight course for the town line. He had slipped out while David and Mary Margaret were busy with their infant son, David doing his best to quiet his child and urge his exhausted wife to rest in the same breath.

They'd just spent a long, tiring week making search after tedious search through every page of literature Belle could find on the subject of Merlin, but so far they'd found nothing of any use. To make matters worse, their work—already complicated and tiring—had been frequently interrupted by the "New Emma" as she continued to harass them, appearing suddenly in the center of town just as she had that first night. Her impressive displays of magic and acts of violence amounted to little more than a few minor injuries and the destruction of one or two unfortunate vehicles, but she seemed bent on striking terror into the hearts of the townsfolk and distracting her concerned family from their task as much as possible. There had been no sign at all of the calmer version of Emma they had spoken to at the town line since that first day.

But now, after the maddeningly unproductive week he had just spent poring over endless pages of Arthurian literature, Killian had finally decided that today he wouldsee the real Emma again. Or he would try...

He knew it was likely a fool's errand and that he'd probably catch an earful from David when he returned, if he returned at all...which depended entirely on whether he could manage to survive a lone encounter with the new Dark One. But he couldn't stand idly by for another moment. He had to do something, try to reach for the Emma he was sure still existed under the darkness and help her fight it back if he could. And if he was wrong, if she was already too far gone to hear him, at least maybe somehow she'd know he tried.

Killian quickened his pace, seeing the dim orange line marking the edge of Storybrooke's territory ahead of him in the moonlight. He veered off the paved road, seeking the place they had seen Emma early in the week. Just as he put out his foot to step into the trees, he felt a violent pull and a cloud of black smoke surrounded him, lifting him up and transporting him instantly away.

He landed a half a second later, his feet thudding hollowly on a floor of planked wood. When the smoke cleared, he was astonished to find himself far away from the town line and in the shadowy captain's quarters of his own ship instead.

The old dusty candles on his desk sparked to life, and he blinked against the sudden brightness, trying to see past it to the shadowy figure seated gracefully in one of the chairs near the back wall. Emma leaned forward into the candlelight, Dark One evident in the shadows around her eyes and the cruel smirk frozen on her lips.

Killian eyed her carefully, his critical gaze catching all the signs of her current mood in less than a heartbeat. He knew he had to choose his next actions carefully. Depending on how she reacted to him now, she would either listen to him and he would have the opportunity to reach her true self under the darkness...or she would kill him. There was not likely to be a third alternative.

He made his decision quickly, putting on the old facade of cocky flirtation he had used many times in the past, intended to impress and stay the hands of those powerful beings who would ordinarily have just disposed of him without a thought. Raising one brow and straightening up, he made a show of casually dusting off his jacket and jeans.

"Well, well, Swan. I'm flattered that you were so eager to see me, but you know you could have just called." He dug the little flat telephone out of his pocket and held it up. "That is after all why you insisted I carry around this blasted thing, isn't it?"

Emma's gaze flicked to the phone and back to his face. Killian knew this move was a gamble. Probably a wiser man would have kept the thing hidden, though Emma was surely aware he still carried the device since she herself had given it to him over half a year ago. Revealing it to her now meant he was essentially disarming himself completely, since she would easily be able to keep him from using it to call for help if things took a bad turn. But he was hoping that in showing it to her, he could manage to both remind her of the sweetness of the gift and make a display of the trust he still had in her by proving he had no fear of her now.

Killian held Emma's gaze, casually spinning the small device around in his fingertips a moment before he deliberately tossed it over onto desk between them.

That was it. He was at her mercy now, and whatever happened to him from that moment on was entirely up to her.

Emma's eyes followed the path of the phone, her cruel smile widening as she looked back up at him. "I knew you'd be the first to come find me."

Her voice was clipped and cold, devoid of the soft warm tones he was accustomed to.

Killian fought down a shudder and forced a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice level. "Did you? How so?"

"I know you...you're a pirate, a loner. You don't follow any rules, even when you know breaking them will probably kill you." She reached a single finger out and delicately traced the edge of the phone, turning it in slow circles on the desk. "So that means you're the only one brave enough—or stupid enough—to come out to the middle of nowhere to speak to your precious Swan."

The malice in her tone was barely concealed. Killian's eyes narrowed, watching her as intently as he would a predator in the woods, waiting for any sign of impending attack. It was Emma he trusted, but this woman sitting here in front of him, this was all Dark One. He couldn't bring himself to show his back to that, no matter whose face it wore at the time.

Emma rose slowly, plucking the little speaking device up in the very tips of her fingers and holding it up as if to examine it.

"But there's another reason you're here, Hook."

She didn't look at him as she spoke, her attention still on the object in her hand, as if his presence and attention were entirely unimportant to her.

"You're here because out of all the fools who claim to care about me, you are the only one who has no one else to care for instead. My parents have Neal. Henry has Regina. Regina has her petty thief. But you?" Her eyes finally rose to meet his. "You have no one."

The words came out in a low hiss, sharp-edged and intended to hurt, to make him bleed. Killian's jaw twitched, and his hand curled into a tight fist at his side, but he made no reply. If the words stung him, he would show no sign of it to her, not while she was still under the current control of the darkness.

Emma watched his stoic reaction and beamed, a sickly fake smile twisting her beautiful features.

"Oh, don't worry, Captain. Like I said, you still have me. We don't need anyone else, now do we?"

Seemingly without effort, Emma closed her hand around the little telephone and squeezed, crushing the doomed device into a fine dust and letting it fall in a pitifully small heap on the wood floor between them.

Killian watched the trickle of dust pour from between her fingers and then met her eyes once more, making an effort to shake off the effects of her cruel words. He knew full well that with Emma in this state, he was dealing with unpredictability at best, and was toying with death at worst. In any effect, her words were certainly not a reflection of how he knew she really felt. So he did his best to ignore them.

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Emma," he said, shifting as he spoke so he was standing just a fraction closer to her. "I didn't come here because no one else wanted to. I came to prove to you how many people still care for you and to remind you that we're all still doing everything we can to help you."

Emma's terrible smile wilted into a sneer. "Help me? Who's helping me? You? My parents? Regina? How do they think they're going to help me?"

Killian let the cocky mask slip just a little, giving way to sincerity.

"Aye, me and your parents, Regina, even Robin is trying to help in his way. They...we all simply want you to remember who you are, Swan."

Emma bared her teeth at him, snarling, "So who do you think I am, then?"

Killian's eyes softened as he gazed at her, seeing the woman he knew she was under the surface of the darkness covering her now and praying his next words would reach her somehow in spite of it.

"You are Emma Swan. A mother, a daughter, a strong, kindhearted woman. You're the sheriff of Storybrooke and one hell of fighter. You're the woman that I..." he swallowed, not sure he was ready to tell her how he felt about her while she was held prisoner by the Dark One. "You're the woman I care deeply for and trust with my life. You're the Savior..."

A flicker of emotion registered on her face and Killian halted, waiting. But whatever he'd thought he'd seen vanished just as quickly as it had come.

"'Savior'?" She laughed suddenly, harshly, venom seething under the surface of it, the unnatural sound making the hairs on the back of Killian's neck rise.

"Did you miss the memo, pirate? I'm the new Dark One now. For all their foolish effort trying to keep me from going dark, and, well...here I am!"

She raised her hands above her head, anger contorting her face as power surged up her arms and spread out, roaring loudly around the room. It shook the cabin walls and sent small objects and a few old maps flying from their places. Killian braced himself and stood his ground, something that took a great deal of effort while the boards under his feet were shaking so violently. The Jolly Roger groaned, heaving back and forth under the pressure of Emma's power raging inside the hull, the entire ship threatening to be torn apart around them.

After a moment, the power subsided, flowing back under her skin and merely sparking between her fingers periodically as Emma lowered her arms, breathing heavily. She caught her breath, staring down at her hands in wonder, as if she was awed by her own display of magic.

"Do you know," she murmured, almost sounding like the Emma he knew. "I'm always so angry. There's a rage, just sitting under the surface now. Always. It never goes away, even when I'm alone. I know it's just waiting to spark and blow up, to destroy everything around me."

She raised her head and met Killian's eyes, a curious look on her face. "Do you know what it wants more than anything else, Killian?"

He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in silence.

Emma stepped forward, her arm outstretched, palm thrust out to face him. Killian stood unmoving, keeping his gaze locked on her face, half thinking she would just plunge her hand into his chest and crush his heart right where he stood. She stopped when the tips of her fingers were mere inches from touching him. She tilted her head, the curious look still on her face.

"It wants to destroy you first."

Killian held his breath, tightening his fist and waiting. She didn't move and neither did he, both of them standing their ground, staring at each other, both waiting for the other to move first. Finally, after a long moment of tense silence, she half smiled, stepping back from him and lowering her arm.

"I should do it, you know. Put you out of my misery."

"Then why didn't you?"

Killian's voice came out as a rough whisper, barely audible over the soft sounds of the ship rising and settling again in the gentle waves outside.

Emma's face contorted in an expression somewhere between rage and pain, and she turned away, trembling as she seemed to fight with the anger still simmering under the surface of her skin. As Killian watched her struggle to maintain control, an idea began to form in his mind.

If he could make her exhaust her power, wear out the Dark One, perhaps the real Emma could take over, even if for a moment. Killian could see signs of it already, the desire to kill him visibly straining against the part of her that held back: the part of her that still loved him. All he had to do was carefully give her a push—just hard enough. A delicate maneuver, but he had to try.

He grit his teeth and forced himself to glare at her.

"Well, what about it then, Swan?" he growled, coating his words with as much bitterness as he could muster. "If I make you so miserable, Dark One, why not just end it, right here, right now? What's stopping you? Are you afraid, unsure, or are you just too weak to—"

That did it.

Emma spun on her heel, her snarl of rage cutting off Killian's words. Dark magic trickled from between her fingertips like little bolts of inky black lightning, the tendrils of it arcing to the floor, zig-zagging away from her and up the walls in small jagged lines. Her dark-rimmed eyes flashed as she glared back at him, standing off against him in the center of the Jolly's cabin. He thought for a moment she would unleash all her fury on him, but to his surprise, she reined it in again.

"For God's sake, Hook, what the hell do you want from me?" She practically spat out his old moniker, as if the taste of it on her lips was bitter and poisonous. "Did you come here to die?Because I would gladly fulfill your say the word, pirate."

The contempt in her voice now stung him and Killian's jaw clenched. Even though he knew it wasn't coming from her heart, the words still came from her mouth and it spurred him on.

"Damn it, Swan, you know what I want," he hissed, barely keeping the tremble of anger and fear for herfrom his voice. "I'm here for nothing more than to help you, to protect your heart, remember? But you've made it perfectly clear you don't want that anymore. So since you're the one that brought me here, perhaps a better question is what do you want from me?"

He waited, trembling, feeling the boards beneath his feet shift and roll again, her power too much for them to handle without complaint. She glared him down, lips pressed together in a tight line and her eyes flashing in rage. She slowly closed her fists, trying to hold back some of her magic but unable to completely stop the flow of it from between her fingers.

"Why?"she grit out, teeth clenched in her effort to keep her rage in check.

Her question startled him so much that he took one small step back. "Why what, Swan?"

"Why are you protecting me?What is the point?" Her words came out as a harsh yell and her body shook harder, her control slipping.

The air inside the ship shuddered and roared as her magic fought to be free, but Killian barely noticed as he stared at her, shocked. The question quite honestly dumbfounded him. After all this time and all they'd been through...surely she knew. She hadto know...

"Because," he yelled back at her over the renewed groans of the ship, exasperation dripping out of his every syllable. "I love you too, Emma. I love you, no matter what part of you is dark or unsure."

He took another step closer, leaning in until his face was barely two inches from hers, his next words nearly a whisper.

"I swore to see the best in you and I won't stop doing that, even if the darkness is too strong for us to defeat it. I will always love you, Emma, and if the bloody Dark Onechooses to make you kill me now for saying it, so be it."

Emma's eyes widened, and suddenly Killian could see a brief flicker of the other Emma in her eyes. His Emma, the one who loved him back, the one who always seemed shocked that he should care for her, shocked that he would sacrifice himself for her over and over again if he needed to. And it was her voice that answered him, whispering back under the roar of magic.

"Prove it."

They stood there a moment—Emma with her fists drawn tight at her sides, magic crackling over her skin; Hook standing sideways, his entire frame braced against her where he stood shaking with pent up emotions—both of them waiting for the other to move first.

And then they both moved at once, each of them taking one single step in the other's direction and reaching out to pull the other closer. As their lips met—warm and comforting as they had so many times before—something new and unexplainable happened. The two sides of the magic raging inside Emma expanded and collided, flaring out and surrounding them in a shimmering sphere of light and shifting dark. The ship gave one last rumble of protest...and then seemed to vanish behind the wall of magic. Time appeared to halt, making the brief moments of the kiss stretch into a seeming eternity within their own little bubble of separate minutes.

Emma and Killian were the very beating heart of the swirling sphere, and something about the magic around them seemed to merge them closer together for a moment. They were at once separate entities and one form, one soul, fighting itself at the same time that it attempted to put its broken pieces back together. And in that moment of space and time it was as if they could both feel what the other was feeling.

Their bodies crashed together like two waves merging in a stormy sea. Emma's fingers twined into Killian's hair, her pale skin contrasted against the ink-black strands as she roughly pulled him in closer. She clung to him, digging her fingers in hard enough to bruise, angry and desperate all at once—her desire to hold and love him warring with the Dark One's need to utterly destroy him.

Killian's touch was gentler, more tender, but no less insistent. His hook pressed to her side, catching in her clothing in his quest to wrap her up closer to his chest and never let her go. His hand found her cheek, cradling it, his rough fingertips tracing along her jaw as he moved to tangle them in her silky hair.

Emma—still shrouded as she was in the sort of magic that fed and drew on the shadows around them—felt his darkness, the part of him that had seethed with hatred and revenge for so long after the death of Milah. It writhed and fluttered deep inside him where he kept it locked away now, caged and hidden far from the surface. It tugged eagerly toward the darkness she now carried within her, battering against it like the rage of the sea, fierce and violent. The Dark One within her reached out to meet it, welcoming it, stirring it, coaxing it to be free.

But suddenly both sides of the darkness were beaten back, slapped away just as a parent would stay the hand of a child who was reaching to touch a flame. Stunned, the Dark One recoiled inside Emma, and she realized with a shock that the darkness in Killian's heart was shrouded in a thick cloak of blazing white light. The purity of it blinded her, taking her breath away. The light flared out from where it rested protectively around his heart, flowing outward to glimmer just under the surface of his skin, gentle and shallow enough that the dark magic had missed it before.

Killian Jones, whose heart hid the black smudge of one who had pursued a murderous revenge for hundreds of years, was ablaze with the kind of light that could only be held by someone who was pure and true of heart. The kind of heart only a true hero was supposed to have.

The Dark One fell back slowly, hissing in disbelief and outrage as the light in Killian pressed against it in a triumphant burst of warmth. His light chased the darkness back into the far recesses of Emma's mind and called to the light magic that had been lying dormant in her own heart, locked away by the twisted evil of the darkness. The magic of the Savior raced outward in relief, the two lights meeting joyfully between their two steadily beating hearts. All that was Killian surged forward to meet everything that was Emma, and for a moment every shred of darkness left them both, siphoning out and getting lost in the light of hope as it cloaked them in warmth.

As Emma felt herself gain power over the Dark One again, she breathed a breath of freedom, sighing into their kiss and relaxing into Killian's loving embrace. She was all light against him, golden and true, full of hope and the pure, white magic he had always known she possessed.

One last blinding flash of light pulsed outward from them, a rainbow wave of colours rushing out ahead of it, shimmering as it vanished against the walls of the ship's cabin. And then the bubble of magic was gone, the light and darkness flowing around them retreating, rushing back into their skin and disappearing as if it had never been. They were themselves again—just Emma and Killian—holding each other tenderly as they stood in the quiet moonlight streaming through the open windows of the Jolly's cabin.

The light magic faded as well, slipping back under Emma's skin and retreating back into dormancy. But it didn't vanish away to hide as it had every other time she'd slipped between the Dark One and the Savior. For now the darkness was at bay, driven back into a far corner to sulk and seethe...biding its time while the light had its due.

They broke apart slowly, separating enough to catch their breath but still holding on, foreheads touching. Killian's fingers were still entwined in her hair, the soft waves of it looping around his fingers and flowing over his palm. He looked down at the golden strands and wondered for a moment how long he had waited to touch them again. A week? That was too long. Far, far too long.

Emma didn't pull back right away as Killian expected she might when the magic faded. Instead, she lingered, snuggling deeper into warmth of his arms and letting him cradle her close, his thumb tracing gentle circles over her cheek. They stayed like that for several heartbeats, allowing themselves to just be lost in each other for a while.

Finally she looked up, green eyes meeting blue, her voice soft and comforting in the stillness surrounding them.

"I guess neither of us needs an answer to that 'what do you want' question anymore, huh?"

Killian chuckled softly, relieved just to hear the sound of her real voice after the terror of the harsh one the Dark One had used. The happy sound of his laughter went rippling throughout the cabin and made a smile tug on Emma's lips.

"I suppose not. I believe the answer was fairly obvious," he teased suggestively, relishing the feel of her fingertips as she moved them down to rest on the folded collar of his vest, directly over his heart.

She sighed and reluctantly pulled her head back, letting her other hand drop to his arm.

"You know I can't stay..."

Killian winced at the words, knowing they were true. Even though the darkness was gone for the moment, he knew the curse wasn't completely broken just yet. But he was reluctant to let her go again without knowing when he might meet this Emma—his Emma—again.

"I know," he finally answered, managing a rather weak smile

She slipped her hand into his, twining their fingers together and giving them a gentle reassuring squeeze.

"The darkness will come back, and maybe it'll still be stronger than me sometimes, but I know I can fight it now, thanks to you."

"Aye. And you'll win," Killian nodded, speaking firmly and confidently. "But if you ever get lost again, I'll come find you and bring you back."

Emma laughed softly at that, pulling their entwined hands up so she could place a kiss in his palm and gently close his fingers around it.

"Good."

She stepped back then, releasing him with a quiet sigh. She raised her palms, gathering her magic and getting ready to teleport herself away, back to a remote part of the forest. Power flowed out of her again as he watched, but this time it was warm, white, welcoming magic: the magic of the Savior. She looked up and saw him watching her, and he guessed that the sad longing he felt must be obvious in his expression, because she opened her mouth to say some word of encouragement. But at the last minute she seemed to think better of it, leaving him with an altogether different farewell instead.

"I love you, Killian," she murmured, smiling proudly at him over her glowing palms, the light reflecting off the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

His heart lifted at her words and he grinned back at her, knowing this time she would wait until he had time to answer before she disappeared again.

"And I love you, beautiful Emma."

She smiled wider and lifted her hands, the magic swirling up and enveloping her like a white, downy cloud. There was one great pulse of light and a sound like chimes ringing...and then Emma was gone, leaving Killian alone in his quiet captain's quarters.

He stood there a long time—still half-smiling into the dark where she had been a moment ago—replaying the sound of the chimes over and over in his mind. Only it hadn't really been chimes that he'd heard...Killian was sure of it now. Before she vanished, Emma had let a small laugh slip out.

Killian moved to sit down on his narrow bunk, replaying her laugh and the sound of her I love yous in his mind with every breath he took. He committed them to memory as he had before, knowing those treasured moments would be what would keep him going for another stretch of hours, or days...however long it would take them to finally free Emma from the darkness. And free her they would.


"But how?" David's incredulous voice echoed loudly in the room, making Killian wince.

Mary Margaret frantically shushed her husband, glancing at the upstairs balcony. Henry was still asleep in the upper room, though it seemed that he was the only one in the house who had had so much as a moment of true rest in the last twenty-four hours.

When Killian had returned to the loft at dawn, he'd found both of Emma's parents still wide awake and waiting with anxious questions, both of them wanting to know where he'd been all night long and why he'd slipped away from the loft without a word of farewell the night before. It was now close to eight in the morning and he was still attempting to answer question after question about his meeting with Emma.

Killian sighed, running his hand over his already very messy hair, preparing to explain for what seemed the hundredth time what had happened when he found her.

"I don't know exactly, mate. I was talking to her, goading her, trying to reach her beyond the Dark One's curse, and then..." He shrugged tiredly. "We just kissed. Her light magic returned and she was herself again."

"But you say she was still fully dark before you, er, kissed...right? So, how was she able to come back?" David stumbled over the words, seeming still to be a little reluctant to admit his daughter was dating anyone, let alone passionately kissing a former pirate in his private quarters aboard his ship.

It probably would have amused Killian at any other time. At that moment, however, he was too preoccupied, wondering the same things David was.

How did she fight back so suddenly and completely? Why hadn't she killed him? And what the bloody hell was happening during that kiss?

He shrugged and shook his head, not looking at either of Emma's parents. He had no answer for the Prince. He'd been asking himself the same questions over and over again since Emma had left him on the Jolly Roger, and his concern over their possible answers was now slowly driving away the elation following his brief moments with her.

As if reading his private thoughts, Henry's voice answered from the loft above. "True love."

His unexpected statement startled everyone down below. They'd all thought he was still asleep, talking as they had been in hushed tones, but they probably should have known better. The lad had eyes like a hawk and a knack for hearing things he wasn't supposed to.

The three of them stared blankly up at Henry, all of them too shocked to speak, so he went on.

"It was True Love's Kiss. That's why she broke through like that."

David and Mary Margaret froze like statues, their mouths dropped open in shock and their eyes wide as they stared at Henry as if he'd just breathed fire. Killian shifted uncomfortably, feeling a bit put on the spot as their wide-eyed gazes moved from Henry to him and back again.

"Er, lad, I don't think it was—I think it was just a kiss." He tilted his head and nervously scratched behind one ear. "Granted, I don't know everything about how, er, they work, but I'm certain Emma still had the Dark One in her somewhere when she left me. I was under the impression that...that kind of kiss can break any curse, no matter how powerful."

Killian grimaced, thinking how much like David he'd just sounded, stumbling over the thought of a True Love's Kiss as if the prospect was the worst thought in the world. It wasn't at all—quite the opposite—it was just a lot to take in so quickly, and probably far too much to hope for so soon. That is, if True Love even had any kind of timeline.

Henry moved away from the railing and tramped down the stairs, a serious look on his face and the old battered storybook under his arm. He moved to stand at the kitchen counter, laying the book down on the surface and flipping it open, skimming straight to one of the many pages he had bookmarked while researching the Dark One's curse.

Killian moved stiffly past a still-too-stunned-to-move David and Mary Margaret, coming to stand at the boy's left side. He glanced over Henry's shoulder, his eyes resting on a painting of the interior of Rumplestiltskin's castle that adorned one of the pages. In the painting, the gold-skinned little man was sitting at his spinning wheel, his head turned toward Belle, who was perched daintily next to him, her face tilted up toward his. Their lips were inches apart as if they had...well, as if they had just shared a sweet kiss. Killian fought back a grimace, still marvelling at the bookish lass's ability to love the Crocodile despite his thick skin and cruel ways.

"It didn't break the curse because it can't," Henry said, startling Killian out of his close and slightly uncomfortable inspection of the painting. "Belle tried it on Rumplestiltskin after Regina told her that True Love's Kiss was powerful enough it could break any spell. It almost worked, but because Rumplestiltskin wasn't willing to give up his power, it failed."

Killian frowned, trying to follow what the boy was obviously trying to hint to him. "So Regina probably lied to Belle, and True Love's Kiss just isn't powerful enough to stop the Dark One's curse. How is it surprising that it failed, then?"

Henry flipped a few pages, his brow furrowed in thought. "Well, it's true, she could have lied and it wouldn't have worked at all. But the book says he was starting to change before it failed, so I have a different theory."

He turned around to face his grandparents, raising his eyebrows when he realized they were both still frozen in odd positions, their eyes wide as they stood staring at each other.

"Um...Gramps? Gramma? You guys okay?"

Mary Margaret blinked, gripping David's arm and forcing a sweet smile for her grandson. "Yes, of course, we're just fine. We're sorry Henry; it's just been a long night. Go ahead and tell us your theory."

Henry's eyes narrowed and he looked back and forth between his two grandparents, obviously not buying the "we're just fine" story. Killian coughed lightly, shooting a glare at David and managing to get a weak nod out of him in return. Finally, the teenaged boy shrugged and continued to speak.

"Okay, well, I think the kiss didn't break the curse because Rumplestiltskin didn't want to give up the power yet. He was trying to get here to this world, to live long enough to find his son, Baelfire, right? Well he needed to be the Dark One to do that. He needed to make sure the curse was cast and that he would have enough magic to find my dad once he got here. So even though the kiss sort of worked, it didn't cure him because he refused to let go of the magic and become mortal again. I think True Love's Kiss really can break any spell, but maybe it only works if both people want it to."

Killian's brows rose and he felt a smile curve his lips as he studied Emma's son, impressed. The story made sense, and if it was true, it certainly explained a lot about the desperate man Gold continued to be in this world. But there was still one fact that didn't match Henry's theory about the events of the previous night, as much as it disappointed Killian to admit it.

"As impressed as I am by your brilliant thinking—and I am very impressed—I'm afraid you might be wrong, Henry." Killian looked down, his voice soft, reflecting his regret. "If what your mother and I shared last evening was, as you say, True Love's Kiss, then why didn't it work on her? As much as I want it to be true, lad, I'm afraid it just isn't."

Henry looked up at him and shook his head, a hint of a smile on his lips. "But she can't let go of it either, though, don't you see?"

He looked around at the rest of his family, sighing in frustration when the three of them simply stared at him blankly.

"Think about it. How did she become the Dark One in the first place? The curse on hermight be broken, but the Apprentice said the magic has to go somewhere, right? She's still the Savior; she can't let someone else get hurt by the same magic she was trying to stop in the first place. So she has to be the bearer of it and hide out until we figure out how to stop the curse from happening all over again. Until we do, she won't be willing to let it go, and True Love's Kiss won't fix her."

He turned to face Killian again, meeting the captain's perplexed look with a half shrug and a confident smile.

"Look, Killian, I know you love my mom, and she loves you, too. So maybe your kiss didn't break the curse, but it helped. Even if she can't let go yet, it was still strong enough to help shake her out of it for a while."

Killian couldn't speak. He looked again at the painting in the book, thoughts tumbling and turning in his head. He grappled with Henry's theory, with the idea of True Love, and how easily Emma's son seemed to accept and encourage the idea of a pirate becoming his mother's soulmate. After a long moment, he glanced up at Henry again, managing a weak nod and earning himself an encouraging smile from the boy.

Henry closed the book and moved into the kitchen to find breakfast, giving Killian a quick pat on the back as he passed.

David groaned softly, murmuring something that sounded like, "My daughter...True Love...kissing..." and then groaned again, leaning over the back of the sofa and looking very tired.

Mary Margaret smiled sympathetically and rubbed her hand gently back and forth on her husband's shoulder. "This is good news, though...very good news."

Killian leaned back on the counter behind him, frowning sullenly. "Is it? Make no mistake, I'm elated, humbled, honoured if this turns out to be true. But what good's a curse-breaking kiss if it can't actually break a curse?"

"Maybe it can't save Emma from the curse yet, Killian." Mary Margaret placed a gentle hand on his arm. "But obviously it can help her fight back—to hold onto who she really is underneath it, and that's the best bit of news we've had all week."

"She's right, you know," David said, heaving a deep sigh as he straightened up to come stand by his wife. "You're the key to helping her hold on. Emma won't be able to look at you now without remembering who you are and what you mean to her, even when she's in her darkest moment. And that will give her the strength to fight back when she can. Trust me...I know."

He looked down at Mary Margaret and they smiled wistfully at each other, as if they were remembering some distant memory of a time and place only they had shared. After a moment, Mary Margaret turned back to Killian, giving him a look so warm and almost motherly that he shifted uncomfortably, heat rising in his cheeks.

"I want you to know how glad we are to know our daughter has someone who loves her as deeply as you do, Killian," she said, gazing at him sincerely. "It's all I've ever hoped for her...to find True Love. Thank you for giving that to her."

Killian swallowed hard, feeling very flattered but also extremely nervous to be receiving so much attention from Emma's loved ones without her present. He smiled tightly and dipped his head in a quick nod, not knowing what to say.

David nodded in agreement with his wife, though his face was still quite pale.

"It's true: we're bothgrateful. I suppose I'm just still getting used to my daughter being old enough to be thinking about, er...this sort of thing. I'll just have to get used to it."

Killian slipped out as quickly after that as he could, trying to spare both himself and Emma's family from any more of the uncomfortable awkwardness that had followed Henry's ideas about his and Emma's shared kiss. The more he thought it through, the more he had to admit: whether it was True Love or not, there was no denying something powerful had happened that night.

And as he and Emma's family continued to seek the answers to the Apprentice's riddle, he felt her presence more often than not, tugging on the edge of his subconscious as time moved endlessly forward.

Another week passed before they found anything of any use, but he'd seen Emma nearly every day since their shared moment in the Jolly Roger's cabin. He would feel her eyes on him as he strode along the sidewalk, making his way to or from the library, his ship, or her parent's loft. He would glance up to find her watching him from where she stood—half-hidden across a road or from beyond the trees. She was always at a distance, wary, never daring to come closer…but she was there.

Killian would stop wherever he was and meet her gaze, nodding to her, trying with his eyes and smile to encourage her softly, and to remind her. She'd return the look with a soft smile and then they'd both turn away, knowing there would someday be more. After they found Merlin. After the Dark One's magic was vanquished once and for all. After…after.

And that promise—the promise that there would be an after, because they would find an answer to all the riddles in time to save her—drove them both stronger against the doubt. After all, what's a little time when you have eternal love?

~Finis