A lot of people don't believe in fate and destiny. She was one of them, until him.
I feel like… I know you, somehow.
Do you, now? I've met plenty of pretty young things in my time, darling, you may have to remind me.
The same pattern, every time. She meets a handsome young sailor, who eventually rises to the title of captain. Then something happens: a stray bullet. A time paradox. An assault on a starship. A slipped scalpel on the table. Cancer. An interfering young architect. A sailing accident. She's seen him die a thousand deaths, felt him ripped from her from one lifetime to the next.
Do you believe in kindred spirits?
Aye, lass, I do.
She'd dreamed of the shadow of him for months, chasing phantoms of men who no longer existed. When they'd met, she'd felt the pull in her heart, but hadn't yet come to realize, in this life, what it meant. The kiss had unlocked that secret, that he was hers, the man she'd been unconsciously seeking in this life, like so many before it. His face was always different, but his spirit was there: a little broken, but just, decency, mischief, and a love within him to fill the ocean. He had died to save her countless times. Her and their children.
Swan, get back!
No! You have to take them home, take Henry and my parents, and Regina and Gold and Neal, back to Storybrooke!
Maybe it was her turn to die for him.
SWAN!
All the stories said it didn't hurt, that death was warm and inviting.
All the stories were lying bastards.
It hurt. It wasn't quicker than falling asleep, it was agony and it was very wet. She wanted to scream, but her throat was locked up from the pain. She seized as the poison from the lost boy's spear shut down her nerves. She heard roaring, but she wasn't sure if it was in her ears or the battle around her. She felt cold. Her vision blurred.
Swan. Emma. Love, look at me!
Her captain. He was picking her up, holding her. They always found each other, one way or another, even if fate decreed their time together be short. Her hand shook as she reached up to touch his face.
F-found you…
It hurt too much to keep her eyes open. Her head was pounding. Her hand slipped.
Swan. SWAN.
N-next t-time... s-see... y...
SWAN!
An immense pressure built within her. So death was an explosion, was it? Come and get her.
.
.
.
.
Huh, death was warm after all…
.
.
.
.
This was actually kind of nice. She didn't hurt anymore.
.
.
.
.
She opened her eyes. His face hovered just above, his lips still brushing hers. His whiskers tickled her cheeks, her nose, her lips. Their eyes met, heartbroken hope versus pained confusion. Her heart surged, a flash of recognition spasmed across his face.
Allison. Bob. Zoey. George. Rachel. Jason. Sam. Nathan. Susan. Matthew. Lauren. Logan. Winona. George.
Emma.
Killian.
I... I found... I will always find you.
Not if I find you first, love.
*evil grin* Oh come on, it's me. I've been writing angst and melodrama for fifteen years, do you expect me not to write some for Once too? (thank True Love's Kiss) I took excessive liberties with Jen's resume, based on the fact that in three of the things I know her from she's played a character who was involved, in some way, with a captain. The House M.D. character, I'm not remembering what Bob's job was, if it was ever mentioned. Others I couldn't find a relationship mentioned, but most of the roll call at the end is as true as I can make it, while bending the rules. Yay meta across fictional universes! Come yell at me over on tumblr: .com