A/N: Everything that happened last chapter was real. Everything.

~c/s~

The ambulance sirens went through Emma's head, bright blue and red in neon noise.

She knew it was too late to save Killian, she knew the moment Cora had reached into his chest, but Emma wasn't big on giving up. Although maybe she should have been. She couldn't seem to look up from her hands, her eyes tracing the lines and splotches of silver dust, the tiny, tiny pieces that used to be his heart. She had called the police about ten, maybe fifteen minutes after Killian died, not quite managing to move until then. It was almost peaceful, his head heavy and trudting in her lap, the zen-like background of waves and sea gulls. She could hear footsteps scraping up towards her, and she tensed. When Mary-Margaret- Snow-'s boots were within her peripheral vision, Emma relaxed and still didn't look up.

"Emma, it wasn't your fault," her mother said quietly, placing a comforting hand on Emma's shoulder. Snow allowed for a moment of silence to let this sink in. Emma nodded, her jaw setting and her eyes frosting over.

"No." She spat out, finally looking up. "It was Cora's." She stood abruptly and stalked away from the docks, away from the ambulances and the sea gulls and waves. She clenched her fists and remembered the feeling of Cora's fingers fumbling blindly around her ribs.

"Emma!" Snow called frantically, jogging after her daughter. "Emma, you can't just hunt Cora down!"

"Try and stop me," she muttered, blonde hair tangling in the haze of fury and wind that surrounded her. Regina's head snapped up two miles away, and Gold smiled a slick grin in his shop, turning his sign to 'closed'. The wind increased, whistling angrily against any resistance it met.

"Snow?" David asked, skidding to a halt beside his wife. "What's going on?"

"Hook is dead," she put a hand to her mouth. "Emma's... She's not right." He bent over, the wind knocked from him. He had wanted to strangle the pirate, maybe punch him once or twice, but Hook had been a good man, and good for Emma. It was a damn near impossible thing to imagine, Killian Jones dead.

But then, there was no need to imagine.

Emma and the weather both grew angrier, more forceful. The rain dropped in buckets, not drops and the wind blew in gales. The sky was an ominous ink-blue, clouds gathered like spectators, air pressure rising as tempers did.

Emma stood in an alley near the dock, gathered every inch of magic in her, and pushed. Cora flew, in a cloud of purple smoke, onto the pavement, forcefully ejected from her hiding place. She looked up at Emma, at the golden girl wreathed in fog and rain and ice and anger, and tried to run. Emma pushed harder, and Cora tried to crawl.

"You killed him," Emma walked calmly over to Cora, stopping just short of her. "Why."

"Because I wanted to see what that would make of you," Cora sneered, and Emma nodded.

She flicked her hand, instinct and fury melding into accuracy. A sword bloomed from her hand.

"There's your mistake."

David and Snow caught up to her, just in time to see her step back, sword dripping blood and dead witch at her feet. She looked at them, eyes an eerie grey, and then stumbled, dropping her sword.

"I think I should stop now," Emma mumbled, leaning on her father's shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," he murmured, catching her as she fell unconscious. "I think so, sweetheart."

~c/s~

Killian's funeral was small, the majority of town shunning him- even dead- because of what he'd done to Belle. Emma cried. So did Snow. Henry stared blankly at the grave stone, unsure of what to do.

"I'm gonna miss you," Emma whispered as the others went to bring the car around. "I'm going to miss you so much, Killian." She bent forward the last inch to rest her forehead against the cool stone. "I'll be back soon."

"Mom! We're back!"

"Love you," she whispered, pressing a kiss to her hand, then to his name. His real name, which she had flat-out insisted be written on his grave. No 'Hook' anywhere.

Captain Killian James Jones.

"Mom?" Henry asked, naivete in every letter.

"I'm coming," she called, letting the tears fall quietly down her cheeks. "I'm coming."

Then, with a quiet, painful smile, she stood, brushed her knees off, and wiped her tears away.

She'd be back later, anyway.

~c/s~

Wow. I hurt myself a little.