A/N: In this fic, I'm completely disregarding the whole Camelot/Dark Ones plot, so season five didn't happen. Also, any canon regarding Killian's father or the underworld is also being thrown out the window. I wrote this before the winter finale and I'm not changing anything. What occurred during season five is being replaced with my stuff, but everything else is still canon.

It's December 25th. Emma Swan sits alone in a house with too many rooms, her only company a bottle of whiskey. She doesn't even like whiskey. She prefers rum, but rum brings more pain than it soothes. She could have gone to Granny's. Ruby had offered her free beer all night. But if she went to Granny's, she would have to smile. She would have to say "I'm fine." She would have to hug Henry and open presents and see the red and green lights Regina had enchanted and pretend everything was okay. Everything is not okay.

This should've been their first Christmas together.

She stumbled home from the funeral. She didn't understand why she was upset. Neal had betrayed her. She should be glad he was dead. Somehow she couldn't find herself hating him. After everything he had put her through, she still forgave him. After all, it's hard to hate someone who was dead.

She decided to go to the Rabbit Hole. She wanted to avoid Granny's and she couldn't make herself go back to the loft with her parents and Henry. She walked up to the bar.

"Give me the strongest stuff you've got," she said to the bartender.

"Fancy seeing you here," said someone walking into the bar. She turned around and was surprised to see a certain one-handed pirate taking a seat next to her. The bartender came back with a glass an amber liquid.

"You obviously don't know me very well. I have a long-standing relationship with self-pity and booze."

"I know you blame yourself for Baelfire's death. I know you're confused about what to feel. I know you think you lose everyone you get close to."

"How'd you figure that?"

"Like I said," he said, pulling a flask from his jacket and taking a sip from it, "open book."

"Well then, Mr. Shrink," she said turning to face him, "what would you do if you were me?"

"Drink your life away and become a swashbuckling pirate." He smiled at her. "It worked quite well for me."

"And yet here we are."

"Here we are."

She is on her second bottle. Suddenly she can't stand the sight of the house. He chose this house. It was for their future. Their happy ending. She stands up, her glass smashing to the floor. Drunkenly, she gets up and staggers out the door. She heads to the woods, where she can be alone from her memories. It's darker than she thought it was. But she's grateful for the shadows that hide the trail they took on their hunt for Zelena (he was so charming, even in the midst of a crisis), and spot where he suggested she saw a future with him (he was right, of course), and the place where he told her to enjoy the quiet moments (she thought they would have a lifetime of quiet moments)(how stupid), and the clearing where she saved him from the Snow Queen (he was supposed to be a survivor). Her fingers are crackling with energy. She doesn't notice her shaking hands leaking magic, making plants shrivel up and wilt in her wake.

The first step felt like coming home. This was their house. At first, Emma had been hesitant on moving in with him. She was naturally afraid of getting this close to someone. When he had shown her the picture of the house in the catalog, she had almost had a heart attack. To be fair, the last guy she had moved in with turned out to be a flying monkey. And the guy before betrayed her and sent her to jail. But now it was different. She knew in her heart that she wanted a future with him. That she wanted a life with him.

And it scared her half to death.

But a future starts with a home, and this was it. It was painted so blue, it looked like a cartoon. Or a fairytale. It was also big. She couldn't imagine why he had chosen one so large. It was only her, him, and Henry.

Oh.

"Do want to see the rest of it, love, or do you want to just stand in the doorway?" He asked.

She smiled and took a deep breath. "Let's go." Henry rushed past them and climbed up the stairs, obviously looking for the best bedroom to claim. Emma turned to look at her boyfriend. Suddenly, she was so overcome by love, she couldn't help herself. She pulled on his lapel and brought his lips to hers. The kiss started out gentle, and turned rough and passionate. He pushed her up against a wall and kissed her neck. She let out a small moan.

Before they could go any further, she pushed him off of her.

"Let's go find our bedroom," she said.

"Yeah," he answered breathlessly.

She's looking for something. Something she hasn't seen since….

She knows where it is, of course. She was the one who buried it, just like she buried every memory of him. Every reminder of hope in her life, before fate had cruelly taken it away from her. No, not fate. Something much darker.

But tonight she needs at least a piece of him.

It's not too hard to find. There are no protection spells surrounding it, only two feet of dirt. She could do it magically, but she doesn't. Every callus she gets on her hand, every cut from a sharp rock, is a reminder that she can still feel.

Her hand catches on something hard and smooth. A small box. The box isn't fancy. It's made of metal. There is a lock, but no key. It was enchanted so that only Emma could open it. She waves her hand over it. The box opens with a tiny click. There is a tiny piece of metal inside.

A ring.

"Emma, my love, will you marry me?"

She was blinking back tears but her smile stretched from ear to ear. Instead of answering, she pulled him up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard. Her family cheered in the background, but she didn't hear them. It was just the two of them. It was like she had been waiting for this moment her entire life. With Walsh, she was looking for someone to be her family. Now, it felt like the last puzzle piece of her family was sliding into place.

"So is that a yes or a no?" He asked, half-jokingly.

"Yes," she replied, without breaking her ridiculous grin. "You're my happy ending."

He slipped the ring on her finger. It was nothing special, just a plain silver band, but to her, it was everything. It was a symbol of a future, of a home. Something she had lived so long without. Now it felt as natural as breathing.

"Let's go outside so we can have a little privacy," he murmured into her ear.

"Good idea," she said. "Let's get away before Mary Margret starts taking pictures.

They walked outside the diner, and toward the woods, not letting go of each other's hand. Emma never wanted to let go. They didn't even have to talk. Just being together made them both content. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

When they reached the woods, they broke apart. "I meant what I said," she told him, "that you're my happy ending. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you so much and you know how much it scares me. That's why I push people away. But I want to stop pushing. I want this life with you and I don't have to be scared of it anymore."

"Emma, for centuries I thought no one could ever love me. So I became a villain. I stopped caring. You were the first person in a long time who made me care again. You made me want to be a better man. You saved me. I love you more than I could ever have imagined."

She leaned up to kiss him, when she noticed something was wrong. He was frozen; all of the color was drained from his face. She looked down and noticed blood blooming from his stomach.

A figure materialized behind him and pulled a sword out of his back. Emma screamed. It was a man with sharp, dark features, dressed in what looked like a cross between a toga and a robe. Slowly, he wiped the blade on his robe. Emma tried to grab him with her magic, but she felt nothing. It was like he wasn't even there. She tried reaching out with a much more reliable tool: her fists, but she couldn't. She was immobilized. Then the figure turned around and walked away. He seemed to fade away, until he had vanished into thin air.

Emma starts singing a song from a musical she had snuck into when she was a kid.

Now Emma could move again, and she wailed her lover's name. She held him tightly in her arms. She tried to heal him but for some reason, her magic wasn't working. Tears were dripping down her cheeks. "Please don't leave me. I love you"

"Shhh," he said through clenched teeth. He was obviously in a lot of pain, but he didn't want to let it show. "Don't…say that."

"Don't you fret, M'sieur Marius
I don't feel any pain."

"Everything's going to be okay. You're a survivor, remember? You p-promised." Her voice hitched. She couldn't control her sobbing.

"Emma, I've lived a long enough life. I'm just glad I met you along the way."

"No! You can't give up on me. On us."

"A little fall of rain
can hardly hurt me now,"

"R-remember when we first met, Emma?" He was breathing hard now.

"Of course. We climbed a beanstalk to find a magic compass. Not exactly a romantic date."

"That's when I first started falling in love with you. I didn't know then, but you unlocked a part of me that hadn't been touched in a long time."

"That's all I need to know.
And you will keep me safe."

"Stay with me," she moaned.

"I guess I couldn't handle it."

"Don't." She bent down and pressed her lips to his. She knew True Love's Kiss wouldn't work on a stab wound, but she was too desperate to not try it. In her anguished state, she was reminded of another time, with him lying on the ground, and her kissing him to save him. But last time he woke up.

"And you will keep me close
and rain will make the flowers grow."

Before she took her lips off his, she knew it. He was gone. The only man she would ever truly love was dead.

Grief took over her. She held his cold body in her arms and wept.

She holds the ring up and kisses it. And suddenly it's as if every memory was fresh in her mind. The proposal. Saying "I love you."

His death.

She stands up and wipes the tears off her wet cheeks. She turns around and doesn't notice the slight glow behind her. She doesn't notice the soft whooshing sound.

She does notice when someone calls her name. In fact, she stops in her tracks and almost drops the ring. She hasn't heard that voice in so long. It can't be real. It must be some alcohol-induced hallucination. Or a cruel trick. It can't possibly be-

"Emma." She hears it again. She wants to put her hands over her ears, and block it out. She wants to wake up from this nightmare. Hope creeps beneath her skin. What if. She can't let herself think it.

"Emma." It has to be. She turns around.

He looks so different. For one thing, there isn't a bloody hole in his stomach. There are heavy circles underneath his eyes. His skin is sallow, and seems to be slipping off his bones. His hair is dirty and matted. His eyes are an unfamiliar gray.

But he's here.

"Killian?"

It was like a piece of her soul was violently ripped out and torn to pieces. She was no stranger to heartbreak, but this time she had fooled herself into believing that she had a chance.

What a fool.

She held his body tightly to her chest. Her tears rolled down her face and mingled with his drying blood. She stayed there until the sun was well below the horizon. He had grown stiff in her arms. She opens her palm and slides off the ring. The ring that was once a symbol of hope, but was now a symbol of tragedy. She conjures a small box with no key, and places the ring inside, and buries it. She never wants to see that thing again. She doesn't want the reminder.

She expected to be numb. That's what she felt when Graham died and when Neal died. This is a thousand times worse. She felt everything. Every hidden glance, every involuntary smile, every kiss, every happy memory. She felt it all being ripped from her with every second. If it was possible, she would have taken her own heart out and buried it along with the ring. Anything to stop the pain.

"You're not real."

"It's good to see you too, love." He takes a step forward.

"But you're dead." Her voice falters on the last word.

"Aye, and I haven't much time, so you need to listen carefully."

"Why did you leave me, Killian?" She whimpers, almost inaudibly.

"Emma. I love you so much."

"I love you too."

"And I need you to come find me."

"Find you?" She doesn't understand.

"When I went to the underworld, I learned some things. Things about my father."

"Your father? You told me he abandoned you and your brother as a child."

"He did. But there was so much more he kept from us."

"What?"

"There are forces at play that have more control over us than we realize."

"Can you be a little less vague?"

"I promise to tell you everything when we're together again, but time is running out. I must go. Open a portal –ask Belle, she knows how—and come find me."

"I will always find you. I promise."

"Isn't that your father's line?"

"I can use it every once in a while," she replies with a sad smile. "And Killian?"

"Yes, love?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Swan."

She reaches out to touch his face, but he dissolves into nothingness. Then she lets her tears flow.