A/N- Hello, I'm back again with another multi chap fic! I really wanted to write a story about Killian and Henry's evolving relationship that I want to see happen in Season 5. Also, I really want to see Killian come into his own as a hero. Plus, the whole Merlin/Camelot thing has been a lifelong obsession for me, so I really wanted to do something with that. In this story, the Darkness works a little bit differently than I've seen in other stories (think possession, not submission), this will become clearer (I hope) as the story goes on. Also, even though he views him as a friend, I don't feel like Henry's quite ready to embrace Killian as a father just yet. I think there is a lot of external and internal issues they both need to work through, so their relationship will be a bit rocky for a while.

I will try to update regularly, but I'm not sure yet just how often that will be. The story should run somewhere between 20-30 chapters, depending on how long I end up making them.

Summary: When Emma disappears, a desperate hunt for her begins. After a dream sends Henry and Killian on a mission to find Merlin, their relationship will be put to the test. Meanwhile, Emma struggles to find enough hope inside her to keep the Dark One at bay. With her family in danger, will she give in to the dark? Can Killian find the strength to be the hero they need?

Relationships: Killian/Emma, Killian/Henry, and a smidge of other canon relationships.

Rating: M for language, violence, dark themes (potential smut)

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from OUAT.

"Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them."
― Leo Tolstoy

Chapter 1: The Stages of Grief

STAGE 1—DENIAL

She was gone. A terrible thought, to be sure. But not as terrible as the other thought that kept pushing at the back of his mind. The thought that said that not only was she gone, but she was…different.

Gone he could handle. Gone meant he would go after her, stop at nothing until they were once again reunited. Gone was familiar. But different meant something far more terrible…

His mind wouldn't allow him to even recall the flash of her name on that dagger.

He couldn't.

Not now.

Not when she was absent from his side, when she wasn't here to roll her eyes at him, frown at his jokes, smile at his…

Not when she had held his hand so tightly over her heart, her body trembling with fear and purpose. Not when she had looked at him with tears blurring the green of her eyes, and had uttered those three words that had both saved him and damned him.

I love you.

She might be gone, but he would be alright because he knew, like he knew the wide, changeless ocean, that she wasn't gone completely. She was just out there…waiting for him. And he would find her, he would bring her home (again), and then they would finally have their happy ending.

So he told himself when he found her, she would be fine. She would still be Emma. Because he needed her to be. Because she was strong. Because she loved him…

(The whispers in the back of his mind told him a different truth. They laughed at his naivety, his stupidity. Did he really think things would be that easy? That when he found her she would run into his arms? That she would tell him that she loved him and they would break the Dark One's curse with their true love? What made him worthy of a happy ending?)

Even though he tried, Killian soon realized there wasn't enough rum in the world to shut out those whispers forever.

STAGE 2—ANGER

David had a black eye. That was when Killian knew that he had entered his old familiar stomping grounds of bitterness and self-loathing. (But really, the man should have known better by now than to try to take away a pirate's rum.)

Killian would have been happy to wallow here in the black pit of despair. He could almost convince himself it was a comfort, after all, to be back where he belonged. But it didn't feel like a comfort. It felt like a curse, his heart cold and stony, and a sneer always upon his lips. Not when he could so vividly recall what it felt like for that heart to feel alive with passion, to beat with fervor and happiness.

It was Emma, after all, who had saved him from the darkness, from the endless grief and pain. How could he go back there? How could he dishonor her memory like that?

But the anger he felt couldn't be contained. It wasn't rational, it wasn't reasonable. It was the deepest expression of his soul. Inflicting pain on others was just the easiest way to not have to deal with it himself. But sometimes the emotions were just too much, and he just needed a way to vent before he went completely mad.

Luckily, David seemed to understand.

STAGE 3—BARGAINING

They had given him the dagger at first. He couldn't believe that they had trusted him with it. He tried desperately not to use it, but as the days went on and she didn't come back, he gave into to temptation and summoned her. She didn't appear. Not that time, or the next, or the next. Eventually, his pain became too great, the distractions became too few, and minute after minute he took to staring at the thing, his fingers stretching out, itching to call her again and again and again until she would appear. Anything for just a small sign that she had heard him calling.

Thankfully, her parents put a stop to that. Because he loathed himself for what he was doing, even if she didn't answer, there was no worse fate that he could think of for Emma than to always be under someone else's command. She didn't deserve that. So he begged them to take the temptation away, and they did so, agreeing that no matter what, the dagger should be used to summon her as a final option.

It didn't stop the ache, though. The need. Not having it within his sight had made it somewhat bearable, but his entire being still ached with her absence.

With a droll sense of irony, he finally understood the appeal of having magic. What he wouldn't give to open that time portal again. What he wouldn't give to be able to offer up himself in her place. There was no barter too big and nothing he wouldn't sacrifice if it meant Emma's return.

(If only it were as easy as trading away his ship.)

STAGE 4—ISOLATION

It takes Henry to find him. At first, he had managed to stay away by keeping to himself aboard his ship, even resorting to taking it out into the harbor so that no one could get near. But they always found him. David and Mary Margaret. Robin. Belle. Even that ponce, Will, had tried to comfort him.

That's when he knew he needed to change tactics, hide in a place where he could be alone, where the constant assault of memories of her smile and her soft, warm scent didn't haunt his every thought.

It was Henry who found him last, and he had no idea how he had done it. But it was Henry who reminded him of what she would have wanted for him, who reminded him of who he was. And what he needed to do.

STAGE 5— ANGER and Acceptance

After pulling him out of his hiding place at the abandoned fishing cannery by the docks, Henry had invited him to Granny's. Apparently, it had become the nightly ritual. Everyone gathered together to eat in semi-silence and bear the grief together. Sometimes, ideas for rescue were hashed out, sometimes not. All that mattered was that no one was left alone in this.

Killian had reluctantly agreed to appease the boy (not able to deny him this request) and for the first time in almost a week, had returned to his ship in order to properly bathe and clothe himself. The stench lingering off him from the decaying remains at the cannery would make a corpse turn in its grave, but at least it didn't remind him of the taste of cinnamon and cocoa upon her tongue or the lush perfume of coconut and jasmine in her hair.

After nodding his greeting to a shocked David and Mary Margaret, Killian sat at a booth near the back, trying to make himself invisible. He perused the menu, but already knew just what he was going to order, when he saw Regina arrive with Henry. He hadn't seen the mayor since that night, and the change in her was astounding. For once, the confident, poised demeanor was gone and she seemed just as lost and broken as everyone else. But then he saw Henry look up at her and grab her hand and her face changed to something harder and more resolute. She smiled slightly at Henry and squeezed his hand, before the boy turned to scan the restaurant. It was just after he had taken his first bite of grilled cheese when Henry flopped down in the seat across from him. Without a word, he started to grab a fry off Killian's plate, an unconscious move he had been doing ever since they had arrived back from New York, but then he seemed to catch himself and stop.

Killian frowned and pushed the plate forward, silently offering him whatever he wanted, but Henry merely stared absently at the plate and shook his head slightly.

At that moment, seeing the pain Henry was trying to hide, it all hit him again. Emma was gone, leaving not just him, but her parents and her son. It had to be killing her just as much as it was killing them. She was missing, alone, and in agony. And he had spent far too long wallowing in his own grief. She needed him. One way or the other, it was time to find her and bring her home.

Just then, the diner door slammed open with a shudder and a clang of chimes. Killian spun quickly, his hook arm going out instinctively to protect Henry. But it was only Belle. She was huffing, out of breath from running, but her eyes were wide with excitement.

From the next booth over, Killian heard Mary Margaret say, "Belle? What is it? What's wrong?"

Belle stepped forward, now looking sheepishly at the door she slammed open, but there was the slightest trace of deeper worry etched in her brow. "It's Rumple. He's awake. He…wants to talk to you."

Killian spun around, not quite sure how to take this announcement. Mary Margaret's eyes went wide. "Me?"

Flustered, Belle shook her head. "No. Not just you. All of you. He wants to speak to all of you. Now."

"What? Why?" David asked, standing already.

"He's been coming back in bits and pieces," Belle explained. "And today was the first time he managed to hold a conversation. He asked what happened."

"And you told him. About Emma." Regina supplied unhelpfully, as she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Of course I did," Belle answered with a defiant glare her way. But then her face fell. "Then, he got very quiet for a moment. I thought he had gone back under. He does that. Falls asleep, or passes out, or… I don't know. But he wasn't. He sat up and told me that it was very important that he speak to everyone as soon as possible. Very." By the way she was nervously shuffling her feet, Killian could tell that whatever news the crocodile might have, it wasn't good.

David looked to his wife who merely shrugged and took his offered hand. Regina had already risen and was holding out a hand to Henry, who slipped out of the seat to follow her. That left only Killian. Alone. No one asked if he was coming. They didn't need to. Hell, if it was up to him, he would have lead the charge out the door, stormed into Rumpelstiltskin's room, and wrung every last piece of information from the man's lips before splitting his chest open with his hook. And by the looks he caught on people's faces as he passed, he was pretty sure they all knew it.

But it wasn't up to him. This was on everyone. So Killian followed along, bringing up the rear of the procession, trying to keep his emotions in check. For Emma's sake.

They arrived at Gold's home moments later. He was lying in bed, surrounded by books, tea cups, and various items that Belle had no doubt thought would aid his recovery. His eyes were closed, but Belle rushed forward and they slowly opened to the gentle press of her hand. "Rumple. They're here," she said softly.

He turned his head with what seemed like great effort. Killian's eyes grew wide with shock. Whatever he had thought he knew about Rumpelstiltskin, about what he would be like without the curse, he was not prepared for this. Never before had he seen anyone look as frail as the former crocodile did in that moment. He was taken back for a second, to a time long, long ago, to a meeting with another version of this man. A nervous, cowardly man who begged and pleaded with a haughty pirate for his wife. He had wanted that man to fight him then, to prove his love for Milah. And he had failed. He had no idea what to expect of this version of the crocodile. Was that the man who had returned or was he still tainted by the darkness that he had so long possessed? Either way, Killian knew he had to be wary.

With Belle and David's help, Rumple propped himself up on the pillows of his bed so that he could see the gathered group all at once. He eyes lingered longest on Henry, and his mouth twitched down in deep frown, as if remembering something painful. Killian had chosen to remain in the back, almost in the shadows watching the gathering with great interest. He couldn't help but notice how Henry's eyes seemed tinged with anger towards his grandfather, and he wondered what could have happened between them to have hardened such a forgiving heart like Henry's. Right now, though, that wasn't as important as what Rumple knew about the Dark One and how they could Emma back. Absolutely nothing else that man might say held any interest for him at the current time.

Rumple's frown only grew as he gathered his strength. His eyes flitted from quickly from Henry to Regina, then to David and Mary Margaret, barely taking notice of Killian, as if he belonged to the wallpaper, before they flashed angrily, almost exactly as they used to when he was still the Dark One. "Fools," he said so quietly, Killian had almost missed it. "How could you let Emma become the Dark One?"

In an instant, Regina was at his throat, and Mary Margaret was barely restraining David. Killian remained rooted to the spot, knowing if he let his barely restrained rage be unleashed, Rumple would never live to provide the answers the sought, and his need to find Emma momentarily overshadowed his anger. Barely. Instead, he took out his anger upon the man's wall, digging his hook deeply into the plaster.

"Are you serious? Do you honestly think any of us wanted that? She chose it! Because of what you did, you bastard!" Regina yelled, her composure slipping.

Rumple flinched back, but held up a hand to stop her before she could continue. "Please, there will be time later for you to fling your insults at me. That isn't what is important right now."

"Then what is?" David seethed.

"Finding your daughter."

David threw his hands up in exasperation. "Of course it is! Don't you think we've tried locating her? She vanished. She could be anywhere."

Rumple took a long look at David and his breath shuddered in his chest before he could speak. "No, I have a good idea where she is. But you are missing the big picture."

"Which is?" Regina prompted, waving her arm for him to get to the point.

If the old man didn't look like he was about to expire at any moment, Killian thought he might have been stalling on purpose, dragging out his answers to his own sadistic pleasure. But he seemed instead, to be gathering his strength, taking long, slow breaths, and gently rubbing at his chest. "Emma was born with one of the strongest natural magical abilities I've ever seen. As the Savior, her powers are even more impressive. Which is why allowing her to take my place as the Dark One was the most foolish thing that you could have done," he finished bitterly, his words coming out in shallow little gulps, but their impact none the less devastating.

"No one 'allowed' Emma to take the Dark One's curse. You know her, it was her decision," Regina spat, the guilt on her face barely hidden.

David looked at her with a sympathetic eye, and turned back to glare at the shell of a man lying in the bed. "Is there a point to this, or do you just enjoy rubbing our nose in the mess you caused?"

Rumple wheezed and all the anger fell away from his countenance. In it's place, a look of true sincerity filled his eyes. "No. I don't enjoy it. That is not my intention. Believe it or not, I have a certain amount of respect for Miss Swan. She has proven herself to be a worthy…adversary, if you will. And her courage was always quite admirable. But if there is one thing I know, it's the Dark One."

Mary Margaret broke free from her husband, who was still too angry to join her. She approached Rumple's side, giving Belle a slight pat on her arm, and then setting her face in hardness. "Wait a minute. You talk as if the Dark One is a person. I thought it was a curse?"

This line of questioning seemed to perk Rumple up and he shifted so that he could speak directly to her. "Oh yes, it is most definitely a curse. But the Darkness is more than that." He groaned and rubbed at his chest, Belle quickly jumping to his side before he waved her away. He stared up at Mary Margaret with his dark eyes narrowed and his lips held in a tight line, signifying that what he was saying was important. "It's like a parasite, feeding on the deepest wishes and desires of its host, but it also has a mind and agenda all its own. And now it has Emma."

"What kind of agenda?" Belle asked, still hovering at his side.

Rumple's voice fell, his words barely louder than a whisper, yet they carried as well as if he had screamed them. "The Darkness wants one thing…power. It wants total domination. To wipe out any and all traces of light in this realm and any other. Until now, it has been tempered by the natural abilities and strengths of the host body it inhabits." Rumple fell back against the pillows, looking drained and worried, struggling against his flagging strength.

Killian was unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. He emerged from the shadows, meeting the old man's eye. "What do you mean by 'until now', Crocodile?"

The two men stared at each other for a moment, years of mutual distrust flashing between them. Rumple was the first to break away, seemingly revitalized by his anger. "Imagine the Darkness is like a wild animal. It is instinctual, acting on impulse to ensure its own survival. It is drawn to beings of power because it either perceives them as a threat-and thus to be eliminated- or it wishes to use their power for its own. It has never before been able to consume the power of a being of light magic, because darkness and light are diametrically opposed sides." His face grew stiffer, his words more biting. "But Miss Swan's sacrifice, her willingly giving herself up to the darkness was like her holding out a bloody steak to a starving lion and not expecting it to attack. She allowed it that taste of her magic and now it will simply be ravenous for more."

Silence greeted him when he was finished. The look on Mary Margaret's face was one of utter horror, and Henry had drawn into Regina's side like he was a little child, not almost an adult. "More?" Regina fumed, her arm wrapped steadily around her son. "But it already has possession of her, doesn't it? How could it want more? What are you getting at, Gold?"

Rumple nodded to himself silently, as if mulling over what to say. He looked up and caught Regina's eye sadly. "Yes, it has her. But if I know Miss Swan, she hasn't given in to it yet. Her heart and the power of her light magic still remains her own, despite what the Dark One might be doing to the rest of her body."

Mary Margaret looked to David, then back at Rumple, her eyes flashing with new hope for her daughter.
"That's a good thing isn't it? Doesn't that mean we can bring her back?"

Rumple frowned. "Yes, in theory. But you still haven't understood what I've said. Once the Darkness has had a taste of Emma, it will never let go. Separating it from her will be impossible, I'm not even sure stabbing her with the dagger will work, as it will use every bit of magic in its power to prevent that from happening, and I believe that is not an option you would consider anyway. And if it gets her heart, not even the dagger will be enough to control it. The Darkness will spread across the realms, and using the power of Emma's magic as well as its own, it will wipe out the light forever."

The silence was almost as deafening as a raging sea. No one moved or even breathed as the force of impact washed over them. Killian's mind raced with the horror that was presented before him. Not only was Emma potentially lost, but now she might be used to destroy the world. The need in him to find her intensified tenfold.

At last, Henry spoke up, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the room. "Then how do we stop it? How do we get my mom back?" He sounded so small, so desperate, that Killian couldn't stop his heart from breaking at the sound.

Rumple tried to sit up, to speak to his grandson, saying his name sadly, but then, without warning, the older man's eyes rolled back in his head, his face going slack as he slumped over heavily into his cushions.

"Grandpa?" Henry asked tentatively, lightly shaking his arm and looking around for help.

Belle smiled sadly at him and shook her head, like this was a familiar occurrence. "I'm sorry, Henry," she offered. "He's out. But that was the strongest I've seen him yet. I'm sure next time, he'll be even better."

"So that's it? Can't you wake him?" Regina commanded, taking her son into her arms.

"I can't. There's no way. He must regain the strength on his own. It…it might take some time," Belle added with an apologetic shrug. Reaching over, she gently lifted and settled his frail frame back down into the bed, tucking the blankets up under his arms.

"Bloody useless Crocodile!" Killian cursed loudly, startling them all by the broken silence. Pacing in his corner, Killian ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He had hoped that what that man had to say would give him direction, a way to fight for Emma, but now he was only left with even more worries and fears about Emma's safety.

"Killian, calm down," David started, stepping up closer to him.

"Don't test me, Dave. And don't tell me to calm down," Killian growled menacingly, lifting his hook in warning. "Emma is still bloody missing and that useless sod hasn't told us anything."

"That's not true," Mary Margaret replied suddenly, joining her husband's side. "He told us that Emma still has a chance. That her heart is still hers and that she can fight this off." Her eyes sparkled with hope, but Killian couldn't return it. He wanted to, but he just couldn't.

Not when his thoughts were filled with Emma in pain, aching with loneliness and despair, begging him to save her, to free her from her hell. It wasn't that he doubted Emma. He knew she was strong, that she wouldn't give in easily, but he also knew how tempting the darkness could be, how it sneak up on you, wearing down your defenses. How it could trick you into believing the darkness was a good thing. He knew that it was more imperative than ever that they find Emma quickly and help her get back to the light. But once again, he was left with no answers and no direction. It was killing him.

(He refused to even think about the fact that she might willingly give in. He absolutely couldn't.)

Catching sight of Henry's anxious face watching his every move, Killian knew he had to get himself under control for his sake. He couldn't let these thoughts show, couldn't let the boy share in his torment. Breathing heavily through his nose, he forced himself to try and smile, letting Mary Margaret believe her words had broken through to him.

Taking another glance at the boy, Killian felt the overwhelming need to be alone once more. What kind of example was he setting for the lad? He was a wreck, a hairs-breath away from falling right back into his old ways. Except what did he have now? Not even vengeance. Only self-loathing and the deepest sadness he had ever known. He was no fit company for anyone, especially not a boy like Henry.

Vaguely, he was aware that the conversation around him had resumed, and he heard Mary Margaret asking Belle, "How long is he normally out for?" Her wide green eyes looked suddenly too much like her daughters when they were determined. Unconsciously, Killian took a step closer to the door, the need to flee growing stronger.

The other brunette woman sighed, "I don't know. Sometimes hours. Sometimes days. The times he's awake are getting longer though. I think he's really fighting to come back," she adds softly, a sadness about her mouth that she usually kept hidden, as her silent 'to me' was implied.

If Killian wasn't so wretched and angry, he would have offered Belle some sort of comfort, some sort of hopeful assurance. After all, they had become friends, and that was what friends did. But that was a Killian who still had Emma. And right now, that man was gone.

At least she had people like Mary Margaret and David, who could offer her support. "Belle," Mary Margaret began, tenderly placing a hand upon her arm. "I know he is." She smiled, and then looked to her grandson, who was wavering unsteadily on his feet, clearly exhausted. With resolution, she added, "You know, it's pretty late. Maybe we should all go home and rest and talk about all this tomorrow with fresh minds."

Everyone seemed to agree with this and began filing out through the door. Killian watched them go, melting back into the shadows once more so that he wouldn't have to face the pointed looks he might get from Emma's parents, asking him to spend the night at their loft. And for some reason, the look Henry had given him earlier had set him on edge. If he didn't know better, he was sure the lad was angry with him for some reason, but at what, he couldn't say. Fortunately, Henry seemed unfocused and drawn, as Regina silently lead him away towards their home.

Mary Margaret was walking past with Belle, pulling her in for a hug. "In the meantime, if he wakes up, you can call us and we'll be right over. You should try to rest, too. I know how hard this has been."

Belle nodded in relief and offered an apologetic smile to her. "Not nearly as hard as it's been for you. But I'll try. And I'll be sure to call you the second he's awake."

With a final hug, Mary Margaret exited the room, catching up to her husband so that they could walk back together.

Lost in his own thoughts, Killian remained pressed up against the corner, worried that maybe he should have said something to Henry. He knew he should have tried to offer him some sort of encouragement or hope, but didn't know if he had it in him at the moment. His heart just felt too broken. So deep was he that he almost missed the light pressure upon his arm. It wasn't until he heard Belle's tender voice at his side, that he was even aware of where he was. "Killian?" She asked, looking up at him with her wide turquoise eyes drawn together in a frown. "I'm not going to ask if everything is alright, because I know it isn't. I can't even imagine what you are going through." Her voice faltered, and her face seemed to pinch together in pain as something occurred to her. "Actually, I can in some ways, because I've been in love with the Dark One."

Her admission startled Killian from the vicious cycle of his own thoughts. That was right. If there was anyone that could possibly understand a fraction of the despair he was in, it was her. Even though their circumstances were drastically different, Belle knew exactly what it was like to love someone lost in the darkness. He blinked several times, intently focused on the petite brunette. "Aye, lass," he commented, his voice scratchy with emotion. "Perhaps you can."

Belle sighed, her face turning to look back at that of her former husband. "It was hard, I'm not going to lie. But I always knew that past all that darkness, the real person still lurked, and that one day, he would…" Belle's eyes tilted down, as her voice faltered, "well, I had hoped that one day he would put me first, but I'm not really sure if he was ever strong enough to try."

He knew the pain she was feeling, and without realizing it, his heart went out to her. "Lass," Killian interrupted, taking her hand in his. "Don't do that to yourself. I knew that man before he was dark, and, yes, he was a coward, but also he was…" Killian paused, taking a breath and running his hand through his hair. He couldn't believe he was about to admit this, but he realized that the hope she needed he could provide, because in many ways, it was the same as what he craved as well, "…he was a good man, who truly cared for the people he loved."

"And if I could see that goodness in him, even at his darkest…" Belle supplied, now smiling a little brighter. "…then you can find it in Emma. Don't lose hope yet, Killian. I know Emma, and she was never weak. She will fight this. You know she will. And she will win."

Before she could finish, his arms were circling around the librarian and his face was buried in her shoulder. Soundlessly, he wept into her shoulder as she allowed him this moment without comment. Somehow, this talk with Belle had broken through his despair and allowed him to release some of his worst fears. Simply having someone who understood, who couldn't offer him a hope he could believe in was astounding. He had never had this before. Was this what having true friendship was like?

For the first time since Emma had disappeared, Killian felt like himself once more. "Thank you, lass," he murmured, pulling himself off her and not even bothering to wipe away the dampness on his cheeks.

"Anytime, pirate," she teased softly, actually managing to get him to smile back. "We'll find her, Killian."

Suddenly, hope bloomed within him. "Aye, lass. That we will."

Belle's smile grew and Killian's chest burned a little bit warmer. "Go get some sleep, Killian. Preferably without the aid of rum. You don't want to scare Emma with those dark circles under your eyes when you find her, do you?"

He shook his head, warmed by the surety in her voice. Bidding her a quick goodnight, he quickly made his way across town to his ship. By the time he arrived, the exhaustion he had been fighting off had finally caught up with him, and upon touching his bed, he practically passed out.

That night, his sleep was dreamless.

Reviews always appreciated!