Prompt: If Ana and Will had had more time after Will had gotten his heart back.

"I really don't want Jafar to succeed," Ana says, voice wavering, and Will stares at the ceiling, doesn't say a word, "but I do hope you get your heart back. You deserve to feel something, for someone... even if it's not me."

He doesn't know what to answer her. He doesn't want his heart back in his chest, never has. He didn't enjoy being controlled by Cora, but he's never wanted to feel again - because whatever love Ana thinks she had for him, it can't ever match how much his heart loves her. It's always belonged to her. That's why he keeps it hidden behind her picture; it's where the thing belongs. If he gets his heart back, he knows that all he will have is pain. For the rest of his life, because Ana ruined him and there could never be a someone else. He doesn't want a someone else. He doesn't want his heart back; it will break him all over again.

It doesn't matter what he might say - Will never gets the chance. They hear the rattle of the gates opening, and moments later Jafar and the Jabberwocky stride in, all smug satisfaction. He doesn't resist when the Jabberwocky grabs him and shoves him out of his cell. What's the point? Jafar owns him, he's already been forced to recite that stupid bloody "master mine" rhyme.

Being a genie sucks.

So he stands still, as the Jabberwocky holds his arms and Jafar shoves his jacket out of the way, heart glowing bright in his other hand. Glares at the sorcerer, breathes in these last few moments of painless emptiness -

"This might sting a bit," Jafar says, and rams the wretched thing home.

It burns - no it sears through him, rips into him and he can't hold back a scream as the magic scrambles up his insides. Jafar's anything but gentle, twisting his heart back into place and suddenly the air feels raw in Will's lungs, he's collapsing, all sound is fading and all he can hear is his heartbeat pounding in his ears. All he can feel is -

everything, he can feel everything for the first time in years, he can't breathe, his heart's aching in his chest with the weight of so much emotion so long held back, he can feel it all, he can hear Ana calling his name

-Ana.

She's shouting, laughing desperately, the only clarity besides the rapid thud thud thud of his heart: "Will, Will, look at me!"

He scrambles to his feet, and for a moment all he can do is stare, as that same old feeling swells up inside of him, fills him completely, that same love that's kept his broken heart going for all these years hidden behind her picture on the wall - he loves her. And it's inevitable, it always was, he's always loved her and always will and she's smiling, and his whole body relaxes on a sigh, on her name, "Ana," suddenly everything's right in his world.

He steps forward and kisses her through the bars - and there they are, just like they always were.

Fireworks.

Everything else fades away, everything else completely ceases to exist but the feel of her lips on his, finally, his eyes fall closed and they kiss slow and soft and he loves her, loves her, once, twice, a third time and on this kiss they linger, lips parting so gently it hurts somewhere deep within.

He tilts his head forward so it presses half against hers, half against the cool metal of the bars separating them. He reaches up with one hand and hers are still reaching through the bars and he links their fingers together and she sobs a little against him, he presses forward even more and their noses slide against each other, he can feel her mouth moving against his cheek.

"Will," she whispers, her voice still the only sound besides the beating of his heart - her voice always the sound of his heart, always, "I love you."

His breath comes out of him in a short little burst, because - it's what she's been saying all this time and he's never believed her. How could he believe her, when she gave him up so easily before? How could she love him now - how could she ever have loved him? And without a heart it seemed simple enough: she couldn't, she mustn't have, he didn't care if it made no sense because he could never believe the opposite, could never trust her again.

She said she did all this to get him back.

"Please," she whispers, and her voice has gone all frantic now, her fingers are clenching hard against his, he can feel the wet drop of a tear slip against his nose - "please believe me, Will, I lo-"

He cuts her off with another kiss because she's telling the truth, it's utterly bloody obvious now that he has his heart. He can feel the truth in her words, she loves him, she says she's always loved him and she made a mistake, what if he made a mistake in letting Cora take his heart? What if she came to meet him after he'd already left, what if - it doesn't matter any more, none of it matters. They've lost so much time but his heart's back and he's here, he loves her and she loves him and nothing else matters, nothing else could ever matter.

"I love you, Anastasia," he breathes against her lips, and he can hear her little hiccuping laugh, can feel against it him and he's matching it, they're giggling like fools, leaning hard against the bars with their eyes shut and hands holding on tight

(and it's fireworks, everywhere)

-and that's when the Jabberwocky grabs him by the head and pulls him away.

His fingers slip out of hers last, the touch lingering, and nothing else feels real yet, he's still reeling when he's shoved back into his cell and the bars come down, as Jafar yanks Ana in front of him - she's stumbling along numbly, eyes never leaving Will's face - and pulls out his knife.

"No!" Will yells, slamming forward into the bars, reaching out to her, "Nonononono, no, no-"

"Let's make sure that heart of yours is still working, shall we?" Jafar asks.

"No," Will begs, straining helplessly against the bars, and Jafar grits his teeth as he stabs forward, straight into Will's heart.