A/N: I swear I wasn't even originally going to write this, but I got the idea and my brain basically would not shut up about it. Also, I like pain. I thought it'd be really, really interesting/agonizing to explore a lot of Emma's deeper insecurities and all of the effects this has got to have on her - especially given the promo - and this was born. It's six thousand words of pain. It's not the most pro-Liam thing in the world, so if you're a devoted fan maybe it's best you don't read it? I'm sorry! I figure it's best to warn you beforehand, so you don't read all of this just to say "you're so mean to Liam, delete this!" Granted - you still might say that - but oh well! This isn't episode prediction - it could be Hades disguising himself, it could be Rumple being a dick again, it could be any manner of things and I'm not claiming to know. It's not about Liam. Either way, it's about how Emma Swan is enough. And that's the main point, here.
Thanks to Ella, Demi, and Amber for reading this over for me and consoling me about my anxieties of characterization! It's always really hard when you're writing a female character and you're showing the parts of them that the character hates the most about themselves. There's always sort of this pressure to make women "strong" and "flawless" and I've never really been into that? Emma is flawed. Emma has insecurities. Emma has a hell of a lot of emotional baggage that she tries to suppress for the sake of everyone else. None of that takes away from her character, it only enhances it.
-/-
It's not that she's not grateful that Killian gets to be reunited with his brother.
Emma is happy to see Killian happy and Killian, well, is absolutely delighted when he sees Liam again. Killian's face lights up as he embraces him and the two are set on learning everything that happened in the other's absence. He finally gets to see the brother he lost, someone he loves. It's the least he deserves after being robbed of the chance to see Milah, again.
(Emma really, really wishes the other woman could have stuck with them for longer. And she doesn't exactly buy Gold's excuse, but it wasn't as if they made much an alternative with things as they stood.)
So, she vows to befriend the man that shaped Killian so much.
It's easier said than done. There's a sort of haughtiness in his gaze when he looks at her that twists at her gut, makes her fold into herself and want to duck away. Which is stupid, she knows it's stupid. Killian's told her over and over again that to him, his brother was the model of good form - a principle he's always held near and dear - and it's Liam's ring that she wears around his neck. It's just in the catch-up segment of everything, Liam hadn't exactly liked what he'd heard.
("She killed you?" Liam asked Killian incredulously.
"She had to," Killian replied defensively.)
Still, she tried. Emma sat at the table, offering as many sincere smiles as she could manage and offering to get his coat and get them all drinks. She's determined to make him like her, if she needs to, because goddammit this is Killian's brother and she owes this much to him after everything.
Her eagerness to please only seems to make things worse. Liam remains courteous, sure, but barely. Emma has picked up on when she's not welcome, not wanted after years of experience. This seems to be one of those times.
Killian is entirely oblivious, which she can't blame him for given he's interacting with the dead brother that he hasn't seen in two hundred years. That is, he's oblivious until she knocks over a drink she set on the table and immediately, frenetically sets herself on cleaning it up. Liam gives her an odd look and Killian frowns, concerned, and tells her not to worry about it.
Even neat-freak Killian just sets a rag over the spill and presses a kiss to her cheek. She may be knocking over a glass of chocolate milk in one of her foster homes, for all her reaction is worth. It's ridiculous. She's ridiculous.
She washes her hands in the upstairs bathroom, muttering apologies. Why she can't do it in the kitchen sink, which would make infinitely more sense, doesn't occur to her until she's already lathering.
Her mind is a mess. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation doing this to her.
"You're behaving strangely," Killian murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple when she comes back downstairs. He and his brother moved to the living room, now, catching up and talking about all that they've missed.
"Am I?" Emma asks, trying her best to keep her voice light and unbothered. "Sorry, all this...Underworld stuff is messing with me, I guess."
(I really want your brother to like me and I really, really don't think he does.)
"Are you alright?" Killian questions, his voice tinged with worry. "If you want me to tell him to leave, I can-"
"No," Emma says immediately, shaking her head. She's not that cruel. "No, seriously, I think I'm just sleep deprived. And acting a thousand times more insane than you are after being sleep deprived and tortured, so I have no excuse and I'm just," Emma sighs, burying her face in her hands. "God, I'm sorry."
Killian shushes her lightly, tugging on her hands and enveloping her in his arms in an easy motion. "Emma, sweetheart, you're fine. You're more than fine, you're incredible," he kisses the crown of her hair, "you're amazing," he brushes his lips against her cheek, "you're brave," he kisses her other cheek, "and I love you, alright? Do you need some rest? You can just go upstairs and get some sleep if you need to-"
Emma cuts him off by brushing her lips against his. He fully reciprocates in seconds.
-/-
The rest of her family is at the door, next, muttering something about a book and their next shot at evading Hades. They're a little surprised to find Killian's long lost brother in the house, but they adjust quickly and give warm welcomes that only the Charming family is capable of.
Liam seems to respond better to her family than he does to her, at least. It's a small consolation.
The brothers are intent on continuing their earlier discussion, though, so they relocate up the stairs to the guest bedroom. Her parents, Henry, Regina, and Robin, however, all seem to be intent on following the latest lead on how to get the hell out of...hell.
They stay and converse downstairs. Emma can only half-listen.
"...so our best chance at figuring it out is finding that book?"
"It would seem so, yes. It might have a path out of the Underworld, which is exactly what we're going to need."
"And where's Gold?"
"Who the hell even knows, at this point."
"Emma, do you still have those boxes upstairs we saw yesterday? I saw a few books in there, it might be worth a look."
"I don't feel like we should be trusting Rumplestiltskin with a pet rock, personally."
"Emma."
Her mother's voice breaks her out of her reverie. Emma blinks, turning her head to face them all from her seat on the floor. "Right, sorry. What did you need again?"
"The books," Snow repeats, sounding a little concerned. "Emma, are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she insists, shaking her head as she stands. "Books, got it."
Everyone sends her odd looks, but they'll get over it, she's sure.
Emma takes the stairs up two at a time, intent on finding the boxes in the master bedroom. The master bedroom she hasn't even had the chance to sleep in, now that she thinks about it.
"Brother," Liam's voice filters down the hallway, his tone hesitant and paternalistic. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but...Emma, is her name, isn't it? I don't quite think she deserves you, given all I've heard."
Emma is down the stairs before she even has the chance to hear Killian's reply.
-/-
Her parents shoot her concerned looks when she comes back down to the living room
"Did you find the boxes?" Henry asks, eyeing her empty hands.
"Um," Emma blinks. "I'll look later. I didn't want to...interrupt their conversation, I guess."
"I think they can afford an interruption if it's our only shot at getting out of here," Regina mutters, rolling her eyes. "What, does your boyfriend's older brother not like you?"
"No," Emma replies abruptly. "He doesn't think I deserve Killian."
Regina snorts. Snow and David just gape.
"Are you serious?" David asks, his voice going up an octave. "He's been here, what, two hours? He doesn't know you and if he did-"
"Dad," Emma sighs, shaking her head. "It's not-"
"The nerve, of someone, to say that. You literally went to the Underworld for him and this is his response?" David continues, his voice still furious.
"Maybe he doesn't want him to leave," Snow suggests, frowning. "Maybe he wants him to stay here, with him."
"In the Underworld?" Robin asks skeptically. "Hardly a tourist destination, this place is."
"Maybe it is if you move on," Henry suggests, frowning.
This is all getting too much for her to handle. "Listen, I'm sure it's...I'm sure it's fine. It's okay. Really, it's okay. He's not...required to like me."
"Yes he is," David contests, completely missing the point.
They don't have a chance to argue more before the brothers are trudging back down the stairs. Liam looks jovial. Killian, though, seems torn about something.
It might look suspicious that they're all silent when they walk into the room, but at this point Emma's thoughts are too muddled for her to care.
Snow clears her throat. "How are you, Liam?"
"Me? I'm swell, your majesty. Now that I have my brother with me," Liam grins, clasping his hand on Killian's shoulder. "I can move on to what's next with him at my side."
And her worst fears are suddenly very, very much realized.
Emma can handle Liam not liking her, she can handle Liam not thinking she deserves Killian, she can even handle Liam not even wanting to talk to her. What she can't deal with is him trying to prevent Killian from coming home.
Liam may be his brother, but there's more family than just that. He has a family who loves him right in this living room. He has a family who wants him home and safe and alive.
Emma sputters, for a moment. "I - um - what?"
Snow, David, Henry, Regina, and Robin all look just as confused as she feels.
Killian doesn't even look surprised by the statement and his mouth stays firmly shut, which only makes things worse.
Liam looks nonplussed. "As grateful as I am to see that he's no longer being tortured, Killian is...well, dead. The best thing the dead can do is move on."
A tense beat of silence passes, everyone looking to unsure to say anything.
Emma can't stop herself.
"And, uh, where were you during that?" Emma intones slowly, crossing her arms. "When Killian was being tortured, you were already in the Underworld, right?"
"Emma," Killian protests, taking a step towards her. "Emma, love, what's gotten into you?"
What's gotten into her? She's not the one content on leaving him behind, after everything. She's not the one who promised he'd survive, who promised that she'd never leave him, who told him she wasn't like Neal or Graham or Walsh.
"I need to go..." Emma swallows, clenching her eyes shut as she sways in her spot. "I need to go get some air."
And she's out of the house in a second, nearly slamming the door behind her.
Killian follows her out, Liam at his heels because of fucking course he is. "Swan, please, can we talk?"
"What's there to talk about?" Emma mutters, too upset to be completely level-headed.
"I'm sorry," Killian says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry it came out that way, Emma, I truly am."
Sorry it came out that way. Not sorry that Liam said he was leaving when he isn't.
"So, that's it," Emma mutters helplessly, her arms hanging limply at her sides. "You're just giving up, after everything."
"Your name is on a grave, Emma," Killian's voice turns harsh as he takes a step towards her. "Every second you fight to bring me back, you're that much closer to being stuck here. You never should have come here in the first place."
"You need to come home," she begs him, pleads with him.
"Why bring me back," Killian says, his words turning even more heated, "if I should just move on?"
Emma feels like she's been punched in the stomach. She takes one step back, than another. Her eyes search his for any chance that he's just joking, that he doesn't mean it.
She can't find any.
"If that's..." Emma swallows, hard, a traitorous tear falling from her eye. "If that's what you want, I can't stop you."
She won't make his choices for him, this time. Emma walks away, folding her arms around herself as she walks back into the house.
-/-
Snow takes one look at her tear-stricken face when Emma comes through the door and stands up to hug her. Emma falls into her embrace, unable to help herself as she sags against her.
Her mother doesn't even need to ask. "I'm so sorry, honey."
Emma hiccups against her shoulder, meeting her father's worried eyes.
Her parents, it turns out, can beat the odds and share hearts and transcend death. She won't be as lucky.
-/-
Liam finds her in the living room, slumped in an armchair and staring at what was meant to be her crib once her family has left the house in favor of searching Gold's pawnshop. Killian must still be out doing God knows what.
Maybe he's already left.
(He wouldn't leave without his brother.)
"So you're sulking, then?" Liam asks, sighing.
Great. She can see where Killian gets the charm.
Emma stands up, getting angry all over again. "I really don't know why you seem to hate me so much, but -"
"You killed my brother," he says caustically. "Forgive me if I haven't quite warmed up to you."
"And you won't let me fix it!" Emma protests. "I can bring him back, I can bring him home. And he was on board with it until you got into his head telling him how I didn't deserve him and God knows what else! And hell, you're probably right. I don't deserve him. I don't deserve much of anyone, after all this terrible things I did as the Dark One, but it's not just me who cares about him. He has a family in Storybrooke, people who care about him, people who love him."
"Is that how you justify it? In the name of your family? Let him rest with his real family, Emma. Not just play house with you, your son, and your parents, as much as you'd like that to be the case."
If he weren't Killian's brother, she's fairly sure she'd punch him.
"I think you'd like for it to go back to the good old days when you got to boss him around and tell him what to do," Emma fires back. "Isn't that right?"
Liam stiffens. "I'm trying to do what's best for him. I'm trying to do what he really wants, deep down. And he knows that trying to come back to a life where the people who claim to love him kill him isn't worth the price that everyone would pay as a result."
"So you'd rather I let him die," Emma surmises, her gaze going steely. Her posture stiffens, her mouth setting in a hard line. "Why, is that what you would do?"
Liam scoffs derisively, shaking his head. "That's a bit unfair, isn't it? Making assumptions about people you hardly know anything about?"
"I don't know," Emma grits out. "You seem to be a fan of the practice, yourself."
"Forgive me if I'm not entirely understanding about the circumstances that led to you to stick a sword through my brother and lead him to becoming Hades' torture puppet. Now you come storming in because you want him back after you've brought him back to life as a monster against his will? Life doesn't quite work that way, lass."
"Should I have let him get poisoned, instead?" Emma responds sarcastically, anger thrumming in her veins. This is the last thing she'd expected to say to Killian's brother, the last thing she had hoped this would come to. But if he's going to judge her, she damn sure can do the same for him. "Ignore him - too blinded by duty to see anything else? Or is it only okay to ignore Killian's choices when they could have gotten him killed?"
"I suppose I should expect low blows from the likes of you. Personally," Liam mutters, his fists clenching. "I don't know how he could see anything at all in the woman who killed him."
"Yeah, well," Emma snarls, grabbing her jacket and slamming the door of the home that was supposed to be her future, her happiness with Killian and Henry and everything she's wanted since she was a kid but could never have. "Get in line."
She storms out, slamming the door behind her.
A twisted version of the home she's always wanted, this turned out to be.
-/-
Killian probably sleeps alone in the house, that night, has his brother up in a spare room. At least, this is what she's willing to guess - she doesn't know if she's not there. Emma takes the Bug out to a patch of forest, her designated sulking place. It's reassuring to see at least this hasn't changed.
That is, until fifteen minutes in when the immortal god of the Underworld raps his knuckles on her window. An amused expression is on his face as he gestures for her to roll her window down.
Emma ignores him, staring straight ahead.
It rolls down, anyway. It's not as if gods are foiled by technology, she guesses. "That's hardly a proper way to greet your host, Savior."
"Go to hell," she grits out, eyeing him with disdain.
"I'm already there," Hades replies, his voice full of mirth. "And so are you. Perhaps your pirate may want to move on to better digs, hm? I don't reckon even you are worth staying around for, but of course that must be something you're used to."
Emma's grip tightens on the wheel. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't run you over."
"Deep down," Hades goads, in that annoying staccato of his that always makes him sound like he's being choked. There's an idea. "You know I'm right. You know that you're selfish. You know that he meant all the things he said when he was the monster you made him into. You know you're still that orphan, deep down inside, desperate to belong. Desperate not to be left. But, it seems like that lovesick puppy of yours finally grew into his paws. And he'll just," he crosses one finger after another where her car window is rolled down, "pad away."
"This is another one of your tricks," Emma says heatedly, glaring at him and trying not to let his words sink in. "Isn't it? Liam, too, there's no way he's...he's a trick too, isn't he? I bet he already moved on. He didn't say...whatever he said back there."
"I wish I could take the credit, it'd be rather ingenius if I did," Hades laughs, shaking his head. "He'd never move on without his brother. I'm afraid his brother's sanctification of him failed to hold up to the flames of the Underworld. I actually think he quite detests you, for what you did to his dear lieutenant. Came to that conclusion himself, it seems he's already prone to such hasty assumptions. Or maybe he can see the truth more easily, after all it's his judgement Killian reveres more than anyone else's, isn't it?"
Emma pulls the car into drive, not willing to hear another word. Hades watches her go, gives her a smarmy little wave when her eyes flicker to her rearview mirror.
-/-
She ends up pulling into the back of a used car lot she knows is abandoned, its Underworld counterpart equally so. There are a few old cars, here, with blankets draped over them and dust collecting. It's a good camouflage, she thinks. Emma parks the Bug between two of the other cars, turning it off and slipping out to steal a blanket from another car in the lot.
Emma folds herself into the driver's seat, cushioning her head on the door with her arm. It isn't her first time sleeping in this car, not by a long shot. It's the perfect shelter for people without homes, anyway.
She replays Hades' words in her head over and over again, as much as she tries not to. It doesn't lead to a restful sleep.
Emma jerks awake when she hears someone calling her name.
"Emma?" Killian's voice is unmistakably, though muffled. It gets closer and closer, coming up through rows of cars. "Emma, are you here? Can you hear me?"
So much for her hiding spot. She hunches further in her seat, as if that's going to help matters, briefly considering whether or not she'd be able to wiggle into her trunk from the latch in the backseat in time. She rules it out, slumping. Emma sees the ripple in the blanket as Killian's hand skims over the Bug, as if he's trying to get a feel for whether it's right or not.
His hand tugs down the blanket, revealing her in the driver's seat. Emma just sits there, shamefaced.
"You want to let me in?" Killian asks, sounding exhausted.
He isn't the only one.
She presses to unlock the door. He gets in the passenger seat.
"How did you know I was here?" Emma asks blearily, too exhausted to say much else.
"I felt it," he murmurs, tapping his fingers against his chest. "You were gone. And you were hurting. So, I wound up here."
It's only two miles from the house, but, still a long walk. "Jesus Christ," she exhales, then scoffs at the uselessness of her words. There's no Jesus here, no grand messiah and no lord and savior. There's just Hades, the asshole who tortured her boyfriend and continues torturing them all now. And her, the Savior who isn't much of a savior at all. She wasn't very religious in the first place, really. There's still something bleak about the realization.
Killian leans back in the passenger seat, craning his neck to take a better look at her. Emma curls further into herself, her boots flush with the front seat. She buries her face into her knees, the denim over them damp with her earlier tears. It's what she gets for crying herself to sleep, she guesses.
"Emma," he murmurs, concerned, as he brings his hand up to rest on her back. She flinches.
He's just going to leave, anyway.
It's taken her this long to learn that they always leave. Well, Emma has known this, but for whatever reason Killian helped her unlearn it. And, well, when he's gone it's not like he can't see his work go to waste.
Killian retracts his hand, looking hurt. "Sweetheart, can we...can we talk about this? Liam told me you two had a bit of an argument, and I-"
"You were right," she mutters, her voice heavy. "Both of you. I'm...I'm not good for you, not good for anybody. All I do is get the people I love killed. Sometimes, it's apparently me doing the killing. The more I try to keep them safe..." Emma snorts derisively, the sound harsh. "The more I hurt them."
"Swan, you can't possibly believe that," he vehemently protests. "Did Liam tell you that? Is that why - please, Emma, just talk to me."
Emma just closes her eyes, willing for it all to go away.
"Emma, look at me," he instructs again, firmer this time.
She does, reluctantly turning her head to face him.
"C'mere," he murmurs, patting his lap. "I haven't gotten to hold you in so long, Swan. Allow me this simple pleasure."
Emma exhales sharply, biting her lip. If these are her last moments with him...she'll damn well take advantage of them.
She carefully maneuvers herself over the center console, lowering herself so that her legs hang in the gap between the car door and the seat. Killian drapes his arms around her, one wrapping snug around her back and pressing her closer to him while the other clasps her hand in his.
Emma presses her face into his neck, thankful for the alternative not to have to face him entirely.
"It's not your fault," he says, steadily. "Emma, listen to me, none of it is your fault. Not Graham, not Bae, not me - you did the best you could."
Except it is her fault, though his brother might be the only person not blinded to it. She killed Killian. She made him into a Dark One because she was too selfish to live without him. She's never been a good enough Savior, anyways, which is probably what made it so easy for her to cave into darkness.
Killian isn't the only one she's failed with, either. Snow shielded her from Neal when her magic acted up. Hell, Snow seemed more invested in bonding with Regina than she did her. Regina seems to blame Emma for everything that goes wrong - is she wrong to? - and Emma even dragged Henry along with her in her selfish pursuit to get Killian back to her.
Emma has been told over and over again that she's the Savior and what has she even saved? Snow killed Cora. Everyone else played a bigger role in saving Henry from Pan than she did, at the end of the day, uselessly tied to a tree. Pan was defeated by Rumplestiltskin, Regina conquered Zelena the first time around, Ingrid sacrificed herself, Rumplestiltskin is still on the loose, and her boyfriend is dead and doesn't even want to return from it.
She's a terrible, selfish person. And whenever she tries to go against that nature - tries to get everyone their happy endings like she's supposed to - it only ever ends up making things worse. Emma is no use to anyone either way. It's only a matter of time before Killian's brother helps him realize that fact.
Killian just seems all the more perturbed by her silence.
"Moving on…" Emma trails off. His hand cups her face delicately, reverently, and she shakes her head because she knows it'll be one of the last times he ever pays her the privilege. "Your brother, you could be with him. Your mom, too, I know she must be there and I know how much you wish you got more time with her. You have people that love you, Killian. In a lot less destructive ways than I do," she squeezes her eyes shut. "Do what you have to."
"I'd be leaving you," he mutters into her hair, his voice thick.
Who hasn't, at this point? It's a wonder he isn't running.
She swallows the thought down. "Just for now. Until I…" Until she dies, which could be the day she gets back or seventy years from now or, with his lifespan as a guideline, a few centuries. "I'd see you again, one day. If that's what you want, that's enough for me."
It's not enough. It's never going to be enough. She's never going to be enough. Not for her parents, who had another child to replace the childhood she never had. Not for Henry, who seems more attached to Regina than he does her. Not for Killian, who has finally tired of her.
(Killian was hers. Someone she could be selfish with all she wanted, someone who followed her to the ends of the earth and looked at her like she was the world. He was hers to keep.)
(And now he may as well be lost to her entirely.)
These aren't new thoughts, they're the kind that settled on her while she was the Dark One. The kind she desperately tried to chase away any time else. They're the same fears that Killian spat back to her, built from the same ugliness that had her telling Neal she wished he was dead in the Echo Caves, made in the image of the same emotional scarring she's been harboring all these years.
(Always an orphan and always alone.)
But Liam, the pinnacle of all things good and right in Killian's book, scrubbed them raw. And it'd be worse if he wasn't telling the truth.
Emma isn't good enough for anyone.
Killian pushes back a section of her hair, pressing her further into him as he tightens his hold on her. "We need to talk, love."
Emma cringes. "Isn't that what we're doing right now?"
He shakes his head, his nose nestled in her hair. "Really talk, Emma, we need it. Do you want to go home?"
Home. There's a loaded word. She exhales sharply, grimacing against his shirt. It isn't the first time she's been lured to her own ruin with promises of home. It will probably be the last, though.
Emma nods reluctantly.
Killian lifts his head up and she follows, her eyes settling on where the seat belt hangs rather than meeting his eyes. He sighs, bringing his hand up to cup her face. It almost forces her to face him and she does, her eyes flickering up to meet his.
His forehead presses against hers, lightly. "I love you, Emma, so much so. Do you know that? Do you know much I love you?"
"I love you," she murmurs in turn, her hands clinging to his lapel. "More than you even know."
She doesn't want to move over to the driver's side, doesn't want to go to the home she can't keep. It's a home that's as temporary as every other home she's ever had, though she's sure it'll be intact in Storybrooke it's looking more and more like it's going to be missing an essential element. She stays there for a few moments, shakily breathing in time with him. If he had a heart, she's sure it'd be beating in time with hers.
(If he will have a heart, it'll be half of hers. It can't be if he doesn't want it, though.)
Killian just stays still under her, his mouth downturned and his eyes solemn as he stares at her.
He seems sad.
Killian blinks and she realizes she's said the words aloud.
"Says the woman who's been crying," he notes, not sounding the least bit amused. "I don't like seeing your spirits low, love. I just want you to be happy."
Emma holds back the 'then don't leave' that threatens to bubble over.
She swallows, moving over the center console to settle back in the driver's seat.
"Is your brother…" she stops herself, brushing the remnants of her tears from her face. "Is he still there?"
"Liam has his own abode in the Underworld and he returned there for the night," he replies, confused. "Why? Were you afraid he'd be there?"
"No," she replies defensively, but her words are shaky and it takes her another attempt to twist the keys in the ignition. "I just...was wondering."
"Oh, Emma."
It doesn't even sound exasperated, really. Just heartbroken, which is worse.
He gave her his brother's ring and she's afraid to be in the same house as him. Go, Emma. Girlfriend of the century, stabbing him in the chest and wronging the people he loves most all in one fell swoop.
Emma takes a steely breath, unwilling to let herself cry while driving.
-/-
They walk into the house like it's a funeral march and, at this point, it may as well be. The nursery items littering their living room aren't helping matters, either. It's sort of cyclical, in a twisted way, a beginning and an end.
Emma takes off her jacket and her boots once they enter the bedroom. Killian follows suit.
They both sit down, hesitantly, perched at opposite sides of the bed.
Killian is the first to speak. "I wish you didn't run away, like that."
He did it first, she could say. She doesn't. "Where did you go, after we...talked?"
"To think," Killian murmurs, his eyes flitting to her. "Went down to the docks to think, for a bit., about my future. What I wanted it to be. Where I wanted it to be."
"Death is hardly a future," the words leave her mouth in spite of herself.
"Aye," he concedes, sighing. "But I'm already dead, see."
Emma squeezes her eyes shut. She doesn't feel up to crying for a third or fourth time today. "I saved you this morning. We can get you out of here, Killian, we can all get out. All we need is time."
Killian's hand moves to clasp hers, tangling her fingers in his. "Emma, love, you didn't let me finish. I thought about it. And I came to a conclusion."
There's a long stretch of silence between them, both waiting for each other to speak next.
"What do you want?" Emma asks, finally.
"You," he summarizes, smiling sadly at her as his thumb skims over the back of her hand. "Always, you Swan. I thought...I thought that you'd have a better chance at getting out of here with one less piece of cargo."
Emma gapes, scooting so that they're closer to each other. "Oh, Killian. We didn't come here in the first place to leave you behind."
"But you need to get out," he murmurs. "I thought Hades would be satisfied if I moved on, that he would let you go back home if I did it. But I came to realize that it would hardly solve anything at all, see, I don't think a pirate is going to be consequential enough for him to overlook letting the people saving so many from this place out to continue that pattern. And by leaving you...I'd only be doing just that, leaving you like so many have before.
"And I thought about the things I said when I was the Dark One, the awful and horrific words I could never mean, And I thought about what you must be thinking. I was so angry, so tired, so furious and I nearly destroyed everything. I was so angry you'd turned me into that man I'd tried so desperately not to be."
Emma hangs her head, ashamed, before Killian's hook tilts her chin up for her to face him.
"Emma," he says her name like a hymn, like a promise, and it's so cruel for him to get her hopes up like this. "You brought me back. You always bring me back. And as angry I was that you took that choice from me then, you're letting me make one now no matter how much it may hurt the both of us. And I..." his earnest eyes search her nervous ones. "I choose you, just as I always will."
Emma's breath catches in her throat. "Does that mean..."
"There's no moving on for me without you, Swan," he tells her, a soft smile on his lips. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
Emma surges forward to kiss him, rocking them both back on the mattress and tangling her fingers in his hair. She nips at his lips and his grip goes to her waist.
"I was so scared," she gasps out when they part. "I thought...you know what I thought, what you said."
"I'm not leaving you," he reiterates, punctuating his words with a peck of his lips.
"What about your brother?" Emma asks, curled into his side in their bed. The bed they finally get to use, after everything.
"I'm sad we have to part ways on this issue, but it wouldn't be the first time. Some things are too important," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of her hair. "You are too important. All I want is you, Swan. The life we we're trying to build. This house, you coming home to me every night, Henry's bedroom just down the hall. I want all of that, Emma," he lifts up her hand to press a kiss to that, too, and she cranes her neck up to meet his eyes. "It's all I could ever ask for, all I could ever want."
His hand comes up to cup her face, his thumb brushing along the curve of her jaw.
"What about what he said? That you deserved better," Emma asks, her thoughts still racing.
"Swan," he says in disbelief, shaking his head. "For centuries I never dreamed that I could have the future that we do. I never dreamed I could be with someone like you, so passionate and determined and good. I was living a half-life before I met you, Swan, and I'm not just saying these words without meaning them. You showed me what it was like to want better for myself, better for other people. You've made me a better man time and time again. I could never dream for more than the life you've given me."
Emma's mouth parts, at loss for words.
"And I told him as much," he murmurs. "And that's when he told me I should let you go, rather than risk losing you in the Underworld. But I can't. I can't bring myself to leave you. I thought I could, told myself it'd be selfish if I didn't, but I can't."
She kisses him, again, this time more passionately as she clings to him like her life depends on it. He groans against her lips, his arm coming to wrap more snugly around her back.
"I'm glad," she rasps. "We're in this together, Killian. Always."
"Always," he repeats, sounding a little mystified by the word.
And she feels wanted and needed and like she is enough.