(if you're reading in the shadows tonight, I should post the last part soon. If you aren't, I mean, you could give it a shot. Or you could just read this. Ah, the choices.)

The wind is sharp against her skin, and Emma pulls her jacket tighter around herself, staring out into the ocean. A bird lands on the surface for the briefest of moments and comes back up with a fish, life going on as normal for the unsuspecting wildlife.

It seems as if ignorance would be nice, though. Just for once.

This is wasting precious time that she should be spending planning for tomorrow. She should be helping make battle plans to go up against the Wicked Witch. There are so many useful spells she could be trying to learn from Regina, last minute sword fighting techniques she could go over with her father, but more than that, she knows she needs just a moment to herself. A little time to collect her thoughts and take a breath doesn't hurt the situation.

She needs this.

"For some bloody reason, I figured I would find you here."

The voice behind her makes her smile, and she turns her head to fix Hook with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, really? And why is that?"

His smile is small and fleeting. "Just a hunch, love."

She nods and turns back to face the ocean, watching a wave form out in the middle of the waters and keeping her eyes on it as it rises, travels a few yards, and then falters out. Hook sits down beside her on the bench, and a side glance reveals that he, too, has his gaze focused on the sea.

There's a moment of silence between them as they stare at the rolling tide, and then she sighs. "I appreciate you watching Henry for me," she tells him, the sincerity in her tone unmistakable.

In her peripheral vision, she sees him run his hand through his already disheveled hair. She wonders, just for a second, if he ever even attempts to keep it neat. Her guess is probably not. "I barely had a choice, darling. I still don't particularly fancy the idea."

Her hand finds his almost of its own accord, but once her fingers have curled around his own, it feels like it was what she meant to do. His eyes meet hers, piercing and unbelievably worried. "Hey," she says, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm going to be okay."

He watches her for the longest time, and she maintains their eye contact as he appraises her, as if trying to convince himself that she's there or memorizing her features.

She isn't sure which it is.

"I do hope so," he whispers, his voice strained. "I don't know what I would do if..."

He stops, closing his eyes against the pain that the image so obviously brings him. A shake of his head punctuates the trailed statement, and when he reopens his eyes, Emma's breath catches in her throat at the tears there.

He's not supposed to cry. He's supposed to a rough, tough pirate who's biggest trait is self preservation.

Except that isn't who he is at all.

She's realizing that more and more as time goes on, even more so since he found her and brought her home. Part of her feels bad, because she hasn't thanked him properly for being persistent in getting her back. It wasn't easy, and she's aware of that. He deserves to be thanked, but she just hasn't got around to it, and even if she did, words don't quite seem to cover it.

"I'd tell you not to worry, but I know you will." She shrugs a little, because she needs him to watch Henry without being insanely worried about her. He doesn't need to be distracted.

"So, I promise you that I will take good care of myself. Add that to my parents watching out for me, Regina having my back, and Robin with his men? I'll be fine." Her voice sounds confident, and she's glad for that. The last thing she needs is to accidentally show him how uneasy she feels about everything. "All I need from you is to make sure that the most important person in my life is safe."

The two most important people, her mind echoes, but she shoves the voice away.

Now isn't the time for that hidden part of her subconscious to surface.

"I swear to you, Emma, I will guard your son with my life." His sincerity is evident, and she gives him a smile.

"And I appreciate that." There are so many more words she would say if only she could without it being too much, too soon. She thinks that he knows that though, because a small smile tugs up the corners of his lips for the briefest of moments.

Then, he looks down at their hands, eyebrows furrowed. The worry and fear lacing his features breaks her heart, and she wishes she could just will away every last bit of it. She doesn't want him to worry, but the hopes that he won't are useless.

For now, she just squeezes his hand against and hopes that, for the time being, it will be enough.

"Thank you, again."

The words don't seem to be enough now. The situation is dawning on her, and she's realizing that she doesn't know what's about to happen, doesn't know who's going to be lost to the cause.

The sinking realization that Emma may not see her pirate again hits her like a rock, because she might be one of the ones they lose, and she hates that she has to give him assurances that she's unsure she can keep.

He nods at her, trying his best to give her a smile. All around them people bustle about, getting prepared for what they're about to face, but all she can see is him.

And she's been so stupid.

She swallows thickly, throwing her arms around his neck and standing on her toes to press her body to him. The emotion is overwhelming and suffocating because damn it, she's been so stupid where he's concerned and now it might be too late. She holds him as tightly as she can, hoping she can send out everything she's suddenly feeling in the embrace.

His arms wrap around her and his good hand rubs circles into her back. He trembles in her arms, and she has to fight the tears that want to spill from her eyes. There isn't enough time, and there never will be. She has to let him go, but she has to because he has to watch Henry.

She loosens her arms, standing back flatfooted, and the smile on his face stuns her. There's a sad undertone to it, and it takes her breath away. He reaches up, cupping her cheek in his hand. There are words lying just beneath the surface, she can see them. She can almost hear them tumbling from his mouth in a stream of beautiful sentences that only he can form.

They can't stay like this, she has to go.

But not before she crushes her lips to his, committing to memory how his hand moves farther back, threading into her hair and holding her to him. She wraps her arms tightly around his waist, and it's still not enough, but it'll have to be.

They part a moment later, moisture in both of their eyes. She gives him a smile and kisses him once more, whispering against his lips. "I'm gonna be okay."

He nods, though his eyes deceive him.

"I know, love."

"Where'd she go?" Someone yells from somewhere behind her, and Emma lets her eyes dart around, searching for the witch that had suddenly, in the midst of the battle, furrowed her eyes and disappeared. Many of her flying monkeys lay defeated in the streets, and after a few more moments of nothing but silence, they figure she's given up for the time being.

They guess that she'll return tomorrow with a renewed vigor, and that everyone should get their rest. Emma follows the group, near the rear, taking calming breaths and trying to shake this sudden feeling of dread that encompasses her like a fog.

"Emma!"

Her name being shouted by her father pulls her from her thoughts, and when she looks up to see David running toward her from where she knows Hook and Henry were, his eyes wide, her entire stomach drops. "Henry?"

David shakes his head frantically, swallowing with some difficulty. "Henry's fine, but..."

It takes a moment longer than it should, but as soon as his words sink in and register in her mind, she swears she can physically feel her heart breaking.

"No." Everyone is looking at her suddenly, but she's barely paying attention as she takes off in the direction she'd left them, her heart pounding roughly despite how unsteady and broken the rhythm is.

When she gets there, Henry is being held by Regina, and everyone is staring at a figure lying on the ground. Henry breaks free from Regina when he sees her, running to her with tears falling down his face. "I think she was aiming at me, but Hook saved me. You have to help him."

How is she supposed to do that?

She forces herself to put on a brave face and gets on her knees beside the motionless body that she'd kissed only a few hours ago, hoping that nothing would happen to her so that she could return back to him. "Is he-?"

"I don't believe so, not exactly." Regina's voice is very matter-of-fact, and Emma's head whirls around.

"What do you mean, not exactly?" Why does she sound so furious? Furrowed brows fix Regina with a burning gaze, and there's a pause.

"I believe that what she's done is, essentially, a sleeping curse."

"The kind that can only be broken by True Love's Kiss?" When had her father even shown up? He must have followed her.

"So there's no helping him." A dwarf. She doesn't know which one.

"What should we do about it?" Ruby, and Emma can see her whirling her head around to try to see if anyone has a plan.

"Do we do anything?" Another dwarf. She wants to hit them, tell them to shut up, to just stop, for the love of everything good in the world.

Emma can hear their voices, knows that maybe she should stop staring at Hook's face like she's lost her mind, but the realization of what's happening is devastatingly sharp. Oh, God. No.

"Emma." Through the various array of voices, all rushed and neutral, her mother's voice breaks through right beside her. "Maybe you..."

"No," falls from her lips and she stands, her heart racing and her stomach dropping. She can't take her eyes off of him, though, until she feels a hand on her shoulder. "I can't..."

The crowd has thinned, leaving only a few around her, and God, she feels like she's going to be sick. It's too much, she can't, there's no way in hell she can-

"Isn't it worth a shot?" Ruby's voice is hopeful, and Emma can't understand why she would even care.

"Why? What are you afraid of?" Her mother's voice is the one that sticks.

Everything. "I-I don't know. Like, it... not working!" She's borderline hyperventilating, because no, how in the world did it come to this? She'd literally just admitted that she might like him a few hours ago, but him lying in front of her is tearing her to shreds, because it isn't supposed to happen like this.

"But what if it does?"

Oh, God. "Yeah, I'm scared of that, too! I'm scared of... what that would mean and I don't..." She's really going to be sick, right there in the middle of a group of people asking her to kiss a stupid pirate with the possibilities of the fallout of that punching her in the stomach. Her gut churns, and she knows she's going to have to, but she's cursing at herself and everyone else mentally anyway.

"You have to try, Emma. You can't just leave him like this without trying."

She knows that. Taking a few breaths is difficult through the swirling of her insides, but she falls to her knees beside the stupid pirate again, reaching out to brush her fingers over his face. It's too cold, he's too still, and if this doesn't work, she's never going to forgive herself.

It has to.

But that's terrifying.

One more deep breath, a whispered prayer to anyone who may be listening, and she presses her lips to his, not even realizing that she's crying until she opens her eyes and sees the moisture on his face. The stories always make True Love's Kiss seem like an earthquake, strong and shaking the ground, leaving no question that it was there, so at first, dread fills her like lead and she can't see through the moisture in her eyes. Nothing happens for a second or two, but the moments of time seem like ages.

But then his eyes snap open, and he's breathing again.

And oh, God.

Oh, God.

His eyes find hers for the briefest of moments, and then she's standing on trembling legs and taking off down the street, to where, she has no idea.

She finds herself by the shore again, sitting on the same stupid bench where she'd talked to that stupid pirate, trying to convince him that'd she'd be fine so that he would watch her son. He'd protected her son, saved him from the fate the Wicked Witch had planned.

If she could mad at him, she would, but he'd taken a curse for her son, and he's stupid, but she'll never be able to repay him for that.

He finds her, like he always seems to, after she's been sitting there for nearly an hour. His warmth beside her when he sits down makes her feel like she's going to pass out. There's a silence, as both of them try to think of what to say, what they should do.

"Thank you, for protecting Henry." It's all she can think of to say without putting her heart too far on the line. She wonders briefly if that's even possible at this point. She did just wake him up from a curse with True Love's Kiss.

Fuck.

"Thank you, for..." Waking me up. Loving me. He doesn't finish the sentence, but he doesn't need to. "May I ask why you ran away, Swan?"

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to keep from shaking. "I'm bad at this," she admits quietly. "I've barely admitted to myself that I might... that I have these... feelings for you, and... then this happened, and I guess... it forced me to look at it before I was ready. I wasn't ready, and now I feel like I have to be. I just..." She's so bad at words, too. Whereas he can conjure up the most flowing sentences and remarks, she's stammering and trying to just form sentences that are mostly English and not gibberish.

He doesn't say anything for the longest time, and they're staring out at the ocean again, as if it'll give them the answers they both want. Maybe he's used to doing that, but Emma can't seem to imagine anything ever being able to solve her problems.

"I suppose..." He pauses, and she knows he's taking the time to choose his words carefully. "I understand being precautious. As volatile and unsteady as we both can be, it certainly would have been more beneficial to take things slowly, even if the feelings were, as we now know, there."

A dry chuckle falls from her lips. "Yeah. Guess there isn't any more of me denying it to anyone, is there?"

His answering chuckle is similar. "Afraid not, love."

Another silence falls, and she sighs. "Okay, so for our purposes... There are feelings, they're real and they're powerful, but..."

"You want to keep things slow, because you're not ready to be in love with someone, even if you are."

She isn't sure how in the world he was able to put that into words, but if anyone could do it, she knows it's him. A nod of her head is all she can give him, and then another silence falls.

Emma can feel the stress of the initial shock faltering and fading as he sits next to her, and there is a comfort that comes with knowing she has him. He takes a breath, and from the corner of her eye, she can see a smile on his features. "I think I can agree to that."

It's easy. No three words yet, no commitments. She can't believe she's sitting here telling her True Love that they need to take things easy, but at the same time, they've never been typical.

They never will be.

"Afternoon, love."

"Hey," she says easily, accepting the kiss Killian presses to her lips as he walks in.

"Mmm," he murmurs contentedly against her mouth, and she fights back a shiver. "Still just as life affirming."

She hits him halfheartedly, grabbing her keys and phone. "Give me one sec to lock up, and then we can go."

He waits for her as she turns off the computer in front of her and clicks off her lamp, her stomach in butterfly knots.

They've been together for six months now, or she kissed him back to life six months ago, and he'd decided that he'd do something special, because it's also been just under six months since they defeated the Wicked Witch and everything actual settled down enough for them to do nice things.

It doesn't make her any less nervous.

She really isn't good at these things.

"If I blindfold you, are you going to hit me?"

She raises an eyebrow as they get outside, pursing her lips. "I guess not. I trust you."

There's a softness in his gaze suddenly, and it always kills her how the smallest signs of her affection melt him. It seems insignificant compared to what they're celebrating, after all.

She lets him wrap a cloth around her eyes, and then they're walking. He's leading her, his hand on the small of her back for a very short period of time, and then he's stopping, standing in front of her, and taking off her blindfold.

It's such a romantic comedy cliché, and she's going to kill him.

Except she never will.

Because in front of her, laid out just in front of the bench they'd sat at six months ago, is a picnic blanket and basket, with a single short candle in the middle.

"Oh my God, this is... beautiful," she says, and the words seems insignificant.

She turns to face him, putting her hands on either side of his face. Her throat is tight, and she finally fully understands the magnitude of how lucky she is to have him. Swallowing thickly, she leans up to kiss him slowly, letting the moment drag out, and he relaxes into her effortlessly. They pull away, and just like that, she feels ready.

"I love you," she whispers, and she's never said anything more honest in her life. He smiles at her, and God, he's such a stupid pirate, but he's her stupid pirate.

And she's okay with that. More than okay with that.

"I know."