Killian loves her. That is something that Emma Swan has not doubted for a very long time, not since the second curse.

The Dark One, though, isn't sure. The Dark One thinks that Killian only loves the heroic Saviour, not the little Lost Girl, not the runaway, and certainly not the Dark One.

Killian spent over three hundred years trying to destroy the Dark One. He would spend another three hundred trying to save her from the darkness. Emma knows this. Emma is placing all of her hope in this belief. The belief that her pirate and her son can save her.

The Dark One, though, thinks that Killian would leave her if he knew all that she had done in the past. The countless lives she had taken and laughed over, the glee that murder and darkness gives her.

Killian Jones will never leave her or her family; Emma knows this without any scrap of a doubt.

Killian Jones will eventually leave her; the Dark One believes this to be true.

Rumplestiltskin watches as Emma awkwardly clambers onto the horse behind her pirate. He watches as she glances around, the tensing of her muscles when she sees him, and the widening of her eyes in fear and apprehension. The pirate merely spurs the horse forward, his determined expression not fading even when he feels her arms clench his waist tighter. Rumplestiltskin watches, and he knows what's coming.

The horse flies through the grass, Killian and Emma both grinning, laughing, talking every now and then. "Henry has a crush," Emma can't help repeating. "Good lad," Killian can't stop praising. There's also silence, that silence that comes when there's nothing but peace left in the world.

Peace and love and joy and never-ending hope.

Eventually, Killian stops the horse and Emma peers over his shoulder, but sees nothing except another field. She gets off the horse with little grace, and Killian jumps off with the grace of three-hundred years of practice.

In unison they take each other's hands and lead each other to the middle of the field. Killian picks a rose, hands it to her. And that's when Emma realizes.

Rumplestiltskin isn't there. They left him behind in the clearing in the forest. He's not there to taunt her, to goad her into mischief, to try to teach her about being the Dark One. It's just her and Killian.

Right now, she's Emma Swan. And right now, standing in a field of soft pink roses, she knows something.

She loves Killian Jones. Killian Jones loves her, every part of her. And that won't fade.

There's no burst of rainbow magic when she kisses him. She's not expecting it, not anymore. Not because of their love. She knows that she loves the darkness too.

The Dark One twirls the rose between her fingers six weeks later. She put a protection spell on it in a moment of weakness, and she can't get rid of it. It's a reminder; a reminder that she was loved. Loved so very much.

She's starting to remember. Emma's coming back more often. And Emma Swan knows that Killian Jones loves her. Every part of her. Without a doubt.

And this is something that the Dark One can't quite snuff out.

Or maybe she doesn't want to.