(I started this one shot before this week's episode "A Wondrous Place" aired, and therefore it picks up right where "Page 23" (6x14) ended. It allows for Snow to do more what I would have loved to have seen from her in 6x15 – encourage Emma that there is no way her True Love would leave her, and take action to help her daughter find out what is wrong. In general, I wanted the Charmings to be more concerned about Killian and know that his just vanishing after a fight didn't add up, so I wrote it. (There's even a separater short fic coming later today or tomorrow, a divergent/missing scene from 6x15 for Henry for the same reason!) Also, my first thought at Gideon not wanting Killian around was that he had a curse planned for Emma. I still want them have an actual, magical whoosh of air, rainbow-tinged TLK as well, so needless to say, this is what happened in response to all of that going on in my mind. Even though we know now that none of this is how it went, I'm still posting it. I'd love to hear what you think, and of course, I obviously don't own them. I wouldn't put them through this much pain!)

"Find My Way Back To You" by TutorGirlml

Three a.m. and still no sign of her pirate. Their huge two story house feels as cold and empty in the silent dark of late night turned early morning as it had during those nightmarish days when she had ensconced herself in it as the Dark One in her solitary lair. Just as those ghastly memories have begun to vanish for good, the foreboding tendrils wind their way back in Killian's absence. She did this; her eyes close as she once more stares out the window into the dark, deserted yard, forehead resting against the frigid glass, chilling her skin along with the cold she feels spreading through her chest. Unbidden, Killian's pointed, angry words as the Dark One himself ring in her mind – cutting like tiny knives – "you push away anyone who gets close to you…that's why you'll always be an orphan…"

Knowing now that he does not truly feel that way, that he hates she had ever heard those words from his lips, does little to comfort her alone in the still watch of the night. The remembrance of cold winter nights curled up together under heaps of cozy blankets as he whispered and kissed the very opposite into her skin – how bloody brilliant she is, how she is his match, his other half, how they will always have each other and never be alone again, how he will never leave her – is cold comfort now that she fears she has driven him away.

Listlessness overtakes the Savior as she paces a sleepless route from window to sink to the living room couch and back again, peace and rest as far from her as they have ever been. At last, she curls into the oversized armchair in the corner, the one which has become Killian's favorite place to read the piles of books that both Belle and Henry recommend and loan him, her eyes glazing over until she barely notices the dark lightening to grey, then streaking the sky with pinks and golds as the sun rises again. The new day dawns with her True Love missing, and though she still believes in him and clings to her faith that he wouldn't desert her, he isn't here. She had been justified in what she'd said to him – he does have to trust her, just as she must have faith in him – but the fact that he is out there alone somewhere hurting and drowning in self-hatred, that he didn't feel welcome in their home, makes the words, warranted or not, feel hollow.

When the door creaks open and her mother enters, there to pick Emma up for their near-weekly breakfast at Granny's, Emma barely flinches or even looks up at Snow's chipper greeting. It doesn't take long for her mother to gather that something isn't right when Emma gives no answer, and when she rounds the corner into the living room to find her grown daughter curled up as small as she can make herself in the chair, arms around her legs and chin resting on her knees, Snow's happily excited face falls rapidly.

She comes to kneel in front of her child, resting her hands over Emma's clenched ones soothingly, and looking up into her blank, unfocused face. "Honey?... Emma?" She chafes her hands up and down her daughter's forearms until Emma finally startles slightly and seems to register her mother's presence. "What is it? Are you alright? …Where's Killian?"

It is this last question which finally seems to snap her daughter back into the present, and as she turns to really focus on Snow, her stoic façade truly crumbles. Shaking her head, she finally clasps her mother's hand in return, and whispers in as fragile a voice as her mother has ever heard her use, "I don't know, Mom… I don't know."

"Well, come then," Snow soothes, pulling Emma to her in a hug, and holding her as she rocks back and forth slightly, comforting her princess as she aches to have done all those missed years Emma had been growing up. When she sits back slightly, gently brushing back the loose strands of hair that have escaped Emma's braid with maternal tenderness, "We need to go find him," she urges. "The way that man loves you? Whatever happened with the two of you, you'll work it out. He's probably on his way to you as we speak."

Emma knows her mother doesn't have the whole story, but despite all that, Snow's patent hope and optimism bolster her spirits enough to urge her to her feet as her mother pulls her up and for her to soon be leading the way down to the docks in search of her pirate.

So it is a sleep-deprived, fuzzy and anxiety-distracted version of herself who stands on the wooden planks, frozen in unprepared surprise and vulnerability when Gideon materializes behind them, malicious grin on his face and a taunt on his cruelly curved lips. "Looking for someone, 'Savior'?"

Emma scowls, feeling the heat in her blood rising angrily at the look on his face – just knowing without a doubt that this freak has done something to keep Killian from her, to keep him from coming back home. "You know that I am. What have you done with him?" she growls.

"Nothing really," Gideon shrugs nonchalantly, gloating at his power over the situation, much in the way his father always has. "He'll be quite alright, I'm sure. He's just several thousand leagues under the sea – well away from here and unable to disrupt my plans."

"Your plans?!" Emma spits. "Just what are you planning anyway, you sick little – "

But before she can finish, Gideon flings out a glowing hand, magic shooting toward her from it at top speed. Emma is quick and reacts to throw up a defensive shield, but not quick enough. She has been fighting nonstop for so long, one villain, realm, and catastrophe after another, to save everyone but herself, and she is just too tired. Her sleepless night, distress, and the lackluster concern for her own safety all work against her to let Gideon gain the edge, and she freezes for a second as what he has thrown at her makes impact. Then, her eyes glass over, fall closed, and she crumples senseless to the wooden surface of the pier.

Snow is stock-still and speechless at her side, too shocked to move at their robed attacker's sudden appearance, until Emma falls. On her knees beside her daughter instantly, a cry of distress escapes the Enchanted Forest's monarch as she shakes Emma's shoulder in futile hope of rousing her.

"That won't work," Gideon intones confidently as he watches her efforts. "You of all people ought to recognize the spell, Snow White. But I've tweaked it a bit for my own purposes. Take it from someone who – like your daughter – grew up painfully without a mother, whatever the reasons, I'm not sure you could waken her, even without my refinements. All the same, I've guarded against it, just in case. You will keep her safe though, until I decide what to do with her, won't you?" And with a sickeningly self-satisfied smile, he vanishes in a red column of magical smoke.

~ CS ~ CS ~ CS ~

Killian Jones is beside himself as the Nautilus finally resurfaces in Storybrooke's harbor once more. If it weren't for Nemo, Liam, and the once again fortuitously met Ariel, he would probably have pulled all his hair out or maimed his one good hand from punching walls in frustration. As is, it has been nearly a week since their ship had been sent forcibly from the Land Without Magic. In every waking moment since – and they've all been waking; he cannot sleep, only pace his quarters, stomach churning at the thought that he will have appeared to abandon Emma like so many before him – he has been struggling, racing against time, desperate to get back to his Love. Not only can he not bear the thought of her hurting because of him, of it seeming for even a second that he would desert her, but the more time passes and the more complicated it has proved to get back home, the more frighteningly sure Killian has become that Gideon needed him specifically out of the picture. Whatever the Dark One's spawn has in mind, it means danger for Emma, and he isn't there to fight at her side.

With hardly a backward glance, he tears from the hold and clamors up onto the docks. Running toward their shared home as if that wretched hell hound from the Underworld is on his heels once more, Killian barely calls a 'thank you' over his shoulder to his comrades before he is halfway up the street.

Bursting through the front door after clattering up the steps of their porch, Killian calls out Emma's name, hoarse with panic, even as he can clearly see that the lights are dim and the place is eerily still. When searching every room on the first floor in rapid succession yields nothing, he bounds up the stairs to their bedroom, still crying out for his Swan; still hoping against hope that she will rise from their bed to welcome him, arms outstretched and both of their sins ready to be forgiven with love.

Finding that room empty and cold as well is the battering ram which almost breaks him. 'Where is she?' 'What's happened to her?' repeats round and round in his head, as his adrenaline flees and he sinks on suddenly weak, shaking legs to the edge of the bed, praying she is alright, that she hasn't given up on him and left this home they dreamed of for so long – that he isn't too late. For a moment, he buries his face in his hand, a few tears leaking from his eyes here in this dusky quiet where no one else can see.

His despair does not last though – whether it is the small kernel of undefeatable hope, purpose, love for Emma – for his family – or just plain stubbornness; whatever it is that has kept him pressing on throughout lonely centuries, it pulls Killian Jones to his feet again. Soon he is back down the stairs, across the porch and moving down the street, instinct and his heart guiding him where he needs to go, and urging him forward as quickly as he can get there.

At Emma's parents' loft apartment, he hesitates only briefly, steeling himself with a deep breath for the anger and betrayal he may face, and the fist to the nose Dave may greet him with. But he doesn't have time to waste; he has already been gone too long. With every moment he is apart from his Swan, his desperation and fear for her grows, and he cannot help imagining worse and worse reasons why Gideon might have wanted him far away.

Knocking on the door, mouth dry, heart pounding, Killian only has moments to contemplate what to say, if he will have to push them aside to gain entrance, if he will be able to stand the harsh words he is bound to hear and the disappointment in eyes that had finally begun to regard him as a part of their family, when he hears the lock turn and then it swings open to reveal a rumpled-looking and red-eyed Snow White. To his shock, and throwing him completely off balance, Snow reaches for his arm and pulls him into the apartment, hugging him tightly with her voice muffled against his jacket as she says, "Thank goodness you're here, Killian! It was starting to look like something awful had happened to you…"

Killian sputters disbelievingly even as Snow pulls away, wiping her cheeks and sniffling a bit, and allows her to drag him further into the main room, even as he stumbles over his own feet. "But…I…You are? Did Emma not tell you what I've done?"

Snow shakes her head, dithering and waving her hand as if to bat his qualms away. "She didn't explain…just that she didn't know where you were." And here the rightful ruler of the Enchanted Forest gives him the smallest of sad little smiles, "None of that matters right now. We need you… Emma needs you."

"Doesn't matter?" Killian repeats, blinking and completely nonplussed.

Snow dips her head, hiding her expression from him as she leads him on by the hand, up the steps to the room Killian knows was Emma's for a short time.

However, if he had thought himself confused and troubled already, it is nothing compared to the sight which overwhelms him upon entering Emma's small boudoir. There, lying as if in peaceful, permanent slumber, is his Emma, stretched out upon the bed, eyes closed in seeming rest with her golden hair arrayed across the pillow in a spill of light and hands folded over each other on her stomach. Yet, having felt her curled against him many times in the tiniest possible ball, as if protecting herself even in sleep, and knowing how often she tosses and turns tangling her long legs in the sheets, Killian realizes immediately something is not right – Emma is never so still.

Even if that had not alerted him, the appearance of David, Henry, and Belle around the bed would have, Dave slumped in a chair by the nightstand, looking devastated and lost as he watches over his daughter, and Henry, head bowed and silent, seated on the bed by his mother's feet, while Belle stands near him, worried and torn, her hand on her grandson's shoulder. It flashes through his head that they resemble the mournful tableau around a glass coffin in the cartoon Emma and Henry had gleefully shown him some weeks ago, the one that supposedly told her parents' story. Except these were not somewhat cutesy hand drawn dwarves; these were the members of his family, and he had no such illusions that things could be righted as instantaneously. Surely if the immediately obvious solution could work, they would have done it already?

Slow, hesitant steps bring him closer to the bed where his princess, his True Love, lies. And though he wants to fall to his knees, rail and scream at the universe and the unfairness of her loss, he finds that he can only stare dazedly until he finally reaches her other side, and runs a tender, aching finger along a strand of her hair.

David looks up at his entrance, and though his mouth tightens in a hard, thin line, he says nothing, spews none of the accusations Killian had expected from him, nor does he order the pirate from his home.

"Dave…I…" Killian starts, swallowing hard and trying to offer any kind of apology that could possibly seem like enough. Even if the other man doesn't know the horrible discovery about his father's long ago murder, Prince Charming may well believe that Killian left his daughter without a word when she was in grave danger and needing his support.

But the prince shakes his head slowly, dismissing the need. "All of that can wait for later," he sighs, voice low and ragged. "I know something wasn't right with your disappearance anyway. Just… please … wake my daughter."

Killian is taken aback, jerking upright in surprise. "How can I?" he asks, reaching to twine his fingers with Emma's limp, cool ones, needing the contact whether she can press his in return or no. "If you or Henry couldn't wake her, why would I be able to, after how I've ruined what was between us?'

Belle speaks up then, her voice shaky with a clear mix of concern and guilt. "The best we can figure is that G-Gideon altered the Sleeping Curse. Possibly because Henry has shared a True Love's Kiss with her before, he is unable to repeat the action? And…" she trails off hesitantly, and David picks up the explanation.

"…And because Snow and I weren't there for her all those years, despite my best intentions, in some way I did fail her. At any rate, what we have with our own daughter must not be strong enough to be True Love either." His head bows again to rest on Emma's shoulder, the agonized emotion in her father's voice and the defeated curve of his strong shoulders unravels Killian that much more.

Then Snow speaks up just behind him, her voice soft yet full of hope as she prods him with a hand at his back. "You're the only one who can bring her back, Killian. I know it! I've never seen her look at anyone else the way she does at you. She wasn't herself without you, even before Gideon did this, and she needs to know you're here."

Shaking his head, Killian licks his lips nervously, going down on one knees at Emma's side, pulling her hand to his chest and looking at her son. Henry meets his gaze and gives his mom's other True Love a nod of urging encouragement, a tiny, watery grin lifting one corner of his mouth.

Bending his head to the pillow beside hers, Killian closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage and praying that the bond they have shared is still alive; for she does not deserve this fate. "Swan, I love you… more than I can ever express, despite how I must have hurt you unwillingly. Please… come back to us. Come back to me."

Then, with infinite adoration he leans forward, pressing his lips to hers once more in a sweet kiss. He has missed her so much in the past day and night that it feels instantly as if he is once more whole – like he has finally, truly come home. In the following second, a whoosh of air and light sweeps through the room, ruffling their hair and clothes, sweeping up and invigorating them all. Rainbow color seems to radiate out in a wave of electric power from where their lips meet, and it steals Killian's breath. His heart near ceases to beat as he stares in awe at his princess' face.

Emma's lashes flutter, then she blinks rapidly, sucking in a huge gasp of air as she stirs, and finally Killian feels as if he can breathe again. She sits up quickly, a smile lighting her face as she reaches out for him and pulls him close desperately. "Killian," she exclaims, "you came back!"

Tears threaten, and he has to swallow several times to answer in a rough murmur, "Emma…Love…of course, I did. I never wanted to leave you."

She nods against his shoulder, burrowing closer in his embrace, and neither of them even budge when first Henry, and then the rest pile on in relief and joy, making it a chaotic, clumsy six-person hug. The warmth and belonging spread through his veins and push out the chill loneliness Killian had feared taking over him once more. Laughing and breathing in the warm cinnamon scent of her, he buries his nose in Emma's hair, feels Henry and Belle at his back, and lets Snow's hope fill the last empty cracks hidden away in his soul. No more fear of being lost at sea. He has his harbor, and he means to stay.