A/N Yeah…so this story? The one that was three parts and an epilogue…well, think of this chapter as being like when they have to split a book into two movies, so although it'll still be three parts and an epilogue, it'll actually kinda be four parts plus an epilogue? OK?

Yeah, you know I'm from the same country as Peter Jackson, right? :D

I'm just going to stand in the corner now, and hang my head in shame!

Disclaimer: None of the recognisable characters are mine.

Emma woke up the next morning feeling resolute. Hope wasn't going to get her anywhere. It was a ridiculous notion and it certainly wasn't going to change anything, and nor was the fact he'd kissed her on the cheek. If Killian was leaving town, then he was leaving town.

She'd miss him. A little, maybe. And she'd definitely miss Mr Smee.

Although the cat seemed to be back to his old self, which was probably bad in terms of managing his condition, but made Emma feel a bit better as regular visits had been resumed, along with his desire to pillage and plunder. He pushed his way into the pantry one evening and opened a package of dried pasta with his claws, in a fruitless search for the cat food which had been moved to a higher shelf.

Emma put him out the front door with a firm "Go home, Mr Smee," but, when he clattered through the cat door mere minutes later, she felt a little bad at her treatment of him and allowed him to finish up the macaroni cheese she'd had for dinner.

She did not, absolutely did not, feel at all guilty for the fact she was trying very hard to keep out of Killian's way. Not even when she delayed leaving for work because she could see him across the street removing Mr Smee from where he was sitting on the driveway behind Killian's truck.

Tinkerbell had eyed her suspiciously as she'd snuck down the hallway to the kitchen but she was just a cat, and, really, had no right judging anything Emma did. And she was doing it with the best of intentions because, perhaps, she'd be saving Killian from any awkward moments when he left town.

It was a good justification for hiding in the kitchen instead of marching out to her car and going to work, but it was lost on a cat.

Her tactics didn't work all that well anyway because as much as she could plan to avoid running into Killian in the street outside their houses, she had absolutely no control over his movements elsewhere in town. And that was how she found herself standing at the counter at Granny's diner, waiting for the coffee she'd ordered for herself and David, when Killian appeared at her elbow.

"Hello, love."

There was absolutely nowhere to hide and she wasn't about to get into the whole debate on the epithet he chose to use right then and there in front of Ruby Lucas who, for reasons known only to herself, seemed to have given up on actually making Emma any coffee and was now shifting things around below the counter very slowly.

"Hey," Emma replied, plastering on a bright 'gosh, how nice to run into you' face. At least that's what she was aiming for. God only knows what expression she ended up actually wearing, because there was a moment when Killian's face looked a little confused, before he did some plastering of his own and the smile he'd been sporting returned.

Emma noticed that there seemed to be a few of Killian's co-workers filling up a booth behind him. "You're not stuck with the nut loaf nobody wanted today?" she asked.

"No. Uh. Nope." There was a pause and then he continued. "It's actually kind of a farewell. Robin's leaving at the end of the week."

"Oh? Is the work drying up?" Emma had hoped to sound casually interested, but her voice rose at the end and she sounded anything but casual.

"Not for me," Killian replied, hastily. "But, uh, Robin…well, he's finishing up. He's got some…other matters to attend to."

"Sounds…mysterious."

Killian shrugged. "Not really. His wife wants to get back together and, as he seems to be quite keen on having a better relationship with his son, it's something he is going to pursue."

Emma turned and looked more closely at the group of me, especially the one they were all toasting with the beers they'd managed to be served incredibly quickly considering Emma was still waiting on two coffees. And where had Ruby disappeared to, anyway?

"Isn't he the one who was dating Regina Mills?" Emma asked and Killian nodded.

"Indeed. It makes the situation more…complicated, than mysterious."

"Yep. Nothing all that mysterious about that particular situation. It's hardly the first time someone's been burned by a short-term fling." Emma shuddered. "Glad it's not me."

She turned and looked back at Killian's face and he looked… a little thoughtful perhaps? Emma hoped it was because he was wondering where Ruby was as well and not because of any hopes he might harbour about short-term flings while he was in town.

Emma didn't want to just be a ship passing in the night.

"I suppose you're gonna defend him, right? I mean...don't guys all stick together about this?" Emma said, goading Killian into saying something that she could legitimately blame him for, because she wanted to blame him for something, and blaming the man for existing was wearing a little thin.

He didn't bite at her taunt though, although she watched his jaw clench in a way that suggested he wanted to. Instead he leaned a little closer and dropped his voice so that it was low and urgent and way more appealing than it should have been under the circumstances. "I don't believe I know enough about the ins and outs of Robin's situation to condemn the man just yet, love, but I do believe, very strongly, that no one should miss out on a second chance. And if he thought that this Regina was his chance at finding love again then, well, this is just all very unfortunate for those involved."

Well, yes. Emma supposed it was all a little sad for the people it affected, but she still struggled with the idea of being granted a second chance when she wasn't entirely certain she'd ever been given any chances. Not to be loved by someone, anyway. Someone who'd actually stick around long enough to see whether it was worth taking that chance in the first place.

She was trying to come up with a reply that didn't expose her deepest fears rather brutally when Ruby popped back up again and saved the day. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" she said. "We just ran out of beans and I didn't know where there were more…but here you go, Emma. On the house for the wait!" Ruby pushed two takeout coffee cups across the counter.

"Oh. Thanks, Ruby. That's uh…very thoughtful."

"And what do you get in return for bribing the police force?" Killian asked, leaning over the counter towards Ruby. His demeanour was completely different from how it had been a moment earlier. Gone was the seriousness and urgency and in its place was something light and playful.

It was a little fascinating to Emma who felt as though her own brain couldn't keep up, still stuck as it was pondering the implications of everything Killian had said.

Ruby, however, was on the same page as Killian. At least the way she looked at him, eyes glinting through her thick, dark lashes suggested she was open to a little playfulness. This was all very interesting to Emma. In an abstract way, she thought. Because she didn't really understand how Ruby could just be so open all the time, so ready to flirt at just the drop of a hat.

Emma wasn't like that at all, and, really, if Killian wanted a second chance or a fling or whatever he thought the women in this town were available for, then Ruby was right there, and she certainly seemed amenable.

Emma suddenly felt surplus to requirements.

"Oh, that's not a bribe!" Ruby said, waving her hand around. "That's just me being friendly. We're very friendly in Storybrooke, aren't we Emma?"

"Uh. OK. Sure." Emma didn't want to be pulled into this at all.

"And Emma's been very friendly and bought you coffee so don't go spoiling it now!" Ruby continued, pointing a beautifully manicured finger at Killian. That just made Emma wince internally.

"Oh, no. That's for David…" Emma began, only to find that Killian was talking over her.

"Sadly, I'm not the lucky recipient of Emma's benevolence, Ruby," he said. Emma didn't realise she was holding her breath, waiting for Killian to add the inevitable 'love' after Ruby's name, until he didn't and she exhaled, before scooping up the coffee cups with a view to making a quick exit.

"I…should get these back to the station. See you, Ruby." Emma turned to Killian. "And, uh…see you too. I guess."

Emma didn't wait around to hear what his reply to that was, and especially not to hear if he added love to it. Some things she just didn't need to know.

And if David wondered at all why she dumped his coffee on his desk so forcefully then he never bothered to ask, seemingly far too involved in clicking off whatever website he currently had up on his computer monitor.

And she definitely didn't want to know anything about that, either.

When she got home after work she went through her usual routine; she changed out of her uniform, fed Tinkerbell, pondered what to make for dinner, but a heavy cloud of dissatisfaction hung over her, as though there was something else she could have done in the diner that afternoon.

She just didn't know what.

Emma looked at the rum bottle on the counter, the one Killian had brought over. She should return it really, she wasn't much of a drinker and it was unlikely she'd be entertaining anytime soon.

But she knew that would just be an excuse to see Killian. And letting herself fall into that trap, succumb to his charms, well that would be as intoxicating as drinking the remains of the bottle by herself. And the hangover when it was all over would be just as awful.

She was making the right choice.

She absolutely was, and she told Tinkerbell that, but the cat was far more interested in washing behind her ears and turned her back on Emma, before disappearing out the cat door. Tinkerbell was not particularly useful as a confidant, Emma reflected, before she was startled by the sound of urgent knocking at the front door.

Emma suspected who was knocking long before she opened the door, and she prepared a variety of responses along the lines of lying about how busy she was. However all of them died as soon as she saw how distressed he appeared.

And before she could ask what was wrong Killian blurted out "Have you seen Mr Smee?"

"Uh…not since this morning…maybe yesterday?" It was getting a little hard for Emma to pick out one visit from another these days, they had started to blend together. But clearly that didn't help Killian. "Why? Isn't he home?"

"No, I…" Killian took a deep breath in, but his eyes were still a little wide and panicked. "I lost him."

"Lost him? How?" Emma couldn't imagine Mr Smee just wandering off. Not when it was so close to dinner time, anyway.

Killian's words tumbled out in a rush. "I was…he had to go back to the vet's. And he's not fond of the carrier, but he's fine in the truck. Doesn't get in the way. But I stopped for petrol…" He paused and waved a hand impatiently as though he was trying to speak a different language and couldn't find the word. Emma was tempted to tell him she got the gist of it, but was a little worried that interrupting him would just throw him right off, so she waited until he got it figured out.

"You know, gas?" he said, and Emma nodded. "But the passenger window must have been down and when I got back, he wasn't there."

"So…he just left?"

"Well. I think so. He's not in the truck and…I just need to find him." Killian stood, hands on hips and looked out towards the street, as though Mr Smee might suddenly walk down it. But there was no sign of the cat and he ducked his head in defeat before turning back to Emma. "I was only at the station around the corner, and I hoped…I hoped he'd just made his way back here."

"No." Emma wished she had better news, or that she could say something, anything, that might comfort Killian. But she was a little lost at what to do. Mostly, when confronted with anyone even mildly distressed she tended to remain as hands off as possible. It just wasn't her strong suit.

Even on the job it was usually David who was more capable at calming down hyperventilating bystanders. Emma tended to shine in the moments that caused for firm direction and a sharp reminder of what society deemed appropriate.

But this was somehow different. This was Killian, and it was Mr Smee who was missing, and she wished that she had something more to offer.

"Do you, uh, want me to come and help you look for him?" she ventured.

Killian looked a little startled for a moment, as though he'd forgotten she was there, which only served to remind Emma of just how useless she was. "Oh. No. I mean…I think it's better if you're here, in case he does show up."

"Oh. Right. Yes, of course."

Killian stood still for a moment, looking like he might add something else, but then he nodded and walked off. And then something occurred to Emma. "Wait!"

"What, love?"

"I don't…um. Have your number." Emma was a little embarrassed to admit it because, while she might not be the go-to person for doling out comforting remarks, it was her doorstep Killian had turned up on, presumably because he thought she was a friend and somehow…well, they hadn't crossed this bridge before now.

Killian pulled his own phone out of his pocket and Emma gave him her number which he diligently entered in order to send her a text. "You know," he commented, after he had finished. "If Mr Smee has engineered this just so I can get your number then I might have to buy him a bucket of frozen yoghurt. I'll still be bloody annoyed with him for disappearing on me, but I think it would deserve some recompense." He looked up from the screen of his phone and Emma was struck, not for the first time, by just how handsome Killian was.

"Well, you could have asked me," she blurted out. "But, you know, it was probably easier to just turn up here than call."

"Like Mr Smee."

"Exactly."

There was another short pause and Killian put his phone back in his pocket. "If only he bloody would. Well, alright love. Let me know if he shows, yeah?"

Emma nodded. "Good luck. With the search."

She watched Killian as he drove off and then turned back in her own door to find Tinkerbell standing in the hallway. "I know we're supposed to wait here, but we could have just a small look around, couldn't we?"

Tinkerbell didn't seem to have an opinion, but Emma was very keen on not just sitting around and waiting; it had never really been her style. She grabbed her phone, which now showed that she'd received a text message that was just a serious of smiley faces, and a flashlight and went back out the front door.

With Tinkerbell as backup Emma scoured the property around the rental cottage, but there was no sign of Mr Smee. She checked her own back yard, at which time Tinkerbell gave up on helping and fell asleep on the back step.

With no Mr Smee on the horizon and no message from Killian yet, Emma walked a little way down the street and knocked on a couple of doors. The first place was empty and she scanned the yard, but there was no familiar orange shape. At the next house someone was home but, when she asked to check around the garage, the guy spent far longer singing the praises of his Miada than Emma was really comfortable with. She got that he was probably lonely, but even so, it was just a car.

And she had a cat to find.

She was heading back home when she finally received a text message from Killian, although it wasn't good news. He'd apparently asked a few people and Leroy had volunteered that he'd seen a cat down near the toll bridge. Emma seriously doubted it was Mr Smee; the bridge was a fair way out of town and Mr Smee was old and not that fast. But she didn't want to turn Killian away from any possible leads unless she had something more concrete to offer in its place.

And when she got home, she found that she did, although for a while she was so busy staring at her phone and willing Killian to send her another message she almost stepped on Mr Smee and it was only the yowl he let out that stopped her foot actually connecting.

"Where have you been?" she asked him, but all she got was another yowl in response, this one tinged with an air of the-service-in-this-establishment-has-really-gone-downhill-where-were-you, but Emma had never been so glad to have a cat yell at her in her life.

She pulled out the spare cat bowl she just happened to have now, as it had been a free gift with the extra-large sized bag of cat food she'd had to buy the week before, and put most of a can of tuna into it before presenting it to Mr Smee. The cat didn't seem particularly grateful, but he did immediately bury his face in the food and start eating.

Tinkerbell pushed through the cat door, the sound of her bell only just heard over the noises of Mr Smee's eating and she gave him a contemptuous look, before giving Emma an annoyed look.

Emma gave her the rest of the tuna.

And then she snapped a photo of Mr Smee on her phone and sent it to Killian along with a message that read Mr Smee has been sighted safe and sound. You can come home now.

It was only after the message was gone and she was watching Mr Smee lick the now-empty bowl enthusiastically that she realised that the whole 'home' part of the message was a little silly. Because this wasn't Mr Smee's home and it certainly wasn't Killian's.

But he'd know what she meant.

She hoped.

Emma's stomach growled, alerting her to the fact that she'd somehow missed dinner and she made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate most of it. Mr Smee tried some, found peanut butter a little sticky, but valiantly chewed on, unwilling to spit good food out.

Killian did not reply to her text.

And then, with nothing else to do and not prepared to give up on the evening just yet, Emma tried watching TV, but mostly ended up watching Mr Smee as he fussed with the blanket and tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He scratched a few times and kept licking his leg and Emma wondered if he'd picked up some fleas on his expedition home and when he'd last been treated for them. She thought she should ask Killian, but he still hadn't replied and there was no sign of his truck either. Mr Smee could normally recognise the sound and it would make him lumber off in search of more food, but the street remained empty and silent.

It was getting a little weird. Although, Emma reasoned, perhaps Killian had seen her text message and, glad of Mr Smee's return, had gone on to join his friends at the Rabbit Hole.

That was plausible, she supposed. Mr Smee didn't really have an opinion when she voiced the theory to him. But somehow it didn't gel with just how worried Killian had been earlier. Surely he'd reply?

Maybe the text had been lost somehow, gone to whatever cloud in the sky swallowed missing messages. Emma sent another one which read Hey, did you get my last text? She hoped that came off as a simple inquiry and not as an accusation of some misdeed.

But there was no reply to that either.

Something wasn't right.

Emma picked up her phone, and grabbed her keys from the table in the kitchen, before shrugging on a jacket. "You guys, just behave while I'm gone OK?" she said to the feline occupants of the living room, but they both ignored her, in the same way they'd been ignoring the growing evidence that something was up with Killian.

She drove down the street and around the corner, passing the now-darkened gas station that had been the scene of Mr Smee's daring escape earlier in the evening. Continuing on she reached the main street of Storybrooke and drove slowly down, past the closed storefronts and the empty sidewalks.

There was no sign of Killian.

The Rabbit Hole was at the end of the street and it was the one place in town where there was a significant amount of activity, but, although she drove right through the parking lot she could see no sign of Killian's truck.

Growing increasingly worried, Emma kept driving. She just couldn't reconcile the very-worried-about-his-cat Killian she'd seen earlier with a Killian who would just assume all was now well and leave to do God knows what.

There wasn't much Emma trusted outright in this world, but she was pretty damn sure of her own gut instinct.

Near the toll bridge, on the road that no one really used these days if they were just passing through, Emma spied a very familiar truck pulled over at the side of the road.

She parked her own car behind it and got out, using the small flashlight she kept in the glove box, she looked in the window of the truck. It was empty, although she could clearly see Killian's cellphone placed carefully in the centre of the passenger seat.

Emma's heart sank, and her stomach lurched unpleasantly. She cast the beam of the flashlight around and wished she'd thought to bring the larger one from home. But she had hardly expected to have to tramp around in the woods in the dark looking for where Killian might have disappeared to.

As it turned out, she didn't have to go far, but what she found was hardly a relief. Not far from the edge of the road, and a little way from the truck lay Killian's crumpled and excruciatingly still form.

Emma ran over and knelt down beside him forcing herself to stay calm. From what she could make out there was blood on his face and she automatically put a hand on his chest to see if he was breathing or had a heartbeat or…well, the alternative wasn't worth considering.

And her ministrations had an effect. "Ow," Killian muttered, and Emma almost jumped.

"Sorry. I was just…checking. Where does it hurt?"

"Um…everywhere. It hurts to breathe." Now that she was listening properly and not consumed with the voice in her own head she could hear him breathing shallowly.

"OK." Emma shone the flashlight on Killian's face at the same time as his eyes fluttered open, and he squinted and closed them again.

"Sorry," she repeated.

"S'alrig', love."

"What happened?"

After a moment, during which Killian seemed to be gathering himself to speak, he muttered "Car," and Emma figured that would have to suffice for now. She didn't want him moving or straining himself any more than he really had to, and, mostly, she wanted someone else to come and take charge because this was all a little scary. It wasn't like helping someone when she was working, this was personal.

She continued checking Killian as best she could, and then, when she was satisfied that there were no injuries that were about to cause him to bleed to death in front of her, she stood up and moved a few steps away before calling the station and getting them to send an ambulance. Ashley, who sometimes manned the phones at night while her husband was home with the kids, seemed a little too interested in the details of how Emma had found the man who happened to be her neighbour lying on the side of the road, and she found herself snapping at the poor woman on the other end.

Was it too much to ask that they just send the freaking ambulance?

Satisfied that Ashley had the message, Emma put her phone back in her pocket and went back to Killian. "They're sending someone. How're you doing?"

There was a pause, during which time Emma wondered if he'd actually lost consciousness, and then he croaked out "Emma?"

"Yep?" His fingers brushed hers and she instinctively closed her hand around his.

"Good. I thought…I imagined you were here again."

"OK." Emma wasn't quite sure what to make of that. "How long have you been here?"

"I…don't know. I just…I saw the cat, and I got out to look, and then…I think the car didn't see me. And when I sort of…came back, I was here." Killian suddenly gasped, and his grip on her hand grew tighter. "Mr Smee! I promised him…oh God, I promised."

"No. No. It's fine. He's at home."

"Home?"

"Yes. Well, my house. With Tinkerbell. They had some tuna and went to sleep. It was all very normal. I sent you a text, but you didn't see it, and I thought that if you had then you definitely would have replied." Emma didn't explicitly state that was the reason she'd started searching for Killian, but she figured he could fill in the blanks.

"So, he's alright?"

"Mr Smee is in a much better state than you are." Emma was a little worried about how long the ambulance was going to take. Perhaps she should have driven him to the hospital herself? But she wasn't sure about moving him, and lifting him into her car or his truck just seemed like an impossible task. What she really needed were the professionals and their stretchers.

Emma didn't think it was a particularly good idea to voice any of her concerns to Killian. So, instead, all she said was "You shouldn't wear so much black."

"I…what?"

"Dark colours. The car that didn't see you. Something brighter would have helped. Also it's a really stupid colour to wear if you're going to own a ginger cat who sheds badly." Emma almost winced at how harsh her words sounded but Killian just chuckled, although it soon turned into a groan.

"Ow. That hurts. Of course it's also a stupid colour to wear if I'm going to consort with blonde women."

"Yeah. I guess." Emma was not at all sure how her scolding Killian had turned into him flirting with her.

They sat in silence for a few moments and then the ambulance rumbled up and Emma got out of the way as Killian was assessed and loaded onto a stretcher. She had thought that once he was safely in the hands of people who could actually do something to help him she'd leave. She'd assumed that at this time the best thing she could do would be to go home and check that Mr Smee was still where she'd left him.

But one of the paramedics called out "Are you coming too?" and Emma followed them onto the ambulance, almost on autopilot. It was probably best not to think too much about these things, not to wonder why they ushered her into a seat right beside Killian, or why he opened his eyes and smiled when he saw her beside him. She especially didn't think about why her hand reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of Killian's eyes once the ambulance was moving, and then just stayed there stroking his face.

None of that really seemed important at the moment.

And when they got to the hospital she was glad that she had had the time with him because he disappeared quickly in what seemed like a swarm of doctors and nurses and, although Emma had been very keen for someone else to come and take responsibility for Killian's welfare, it seemed she wasn't entirely prepared to give it up quite so soon.

One of the nurses, who Emma vaguely recognised from the times she'd visited the hospital in a far more official capacity, came over to her and said "Don't worry, Dr Whale's just going to check him over and then I should be able to come back and tell you what's happening…uh, Emma." She nodded as though satisfied with her decision to drop the whole 'Officer Swan' title, clearly assuming that Emma was off-duty in this instance.

"Oh, uh…I should probably head on home," Emma replied, not really wanting to stand around in the waiting room like one of the relatives she usually had to question after something like this occurred. Being here off-duty, being Emma, suddenly felt weird.

"You'll let his family know to come though?" the nurse asked. Emma looked at the nametag she was wearing, hoping to jog her own memory, but A. Stefanovich didn't really ring any bells. Amelia? Amber? Annabelle?

"Family…um." Emma realised, with a sinking feeling, that she had no idea if Killian had anyone beyond an elderly cat who was hardly going to discuss his condition with the doctor. "You know what? I will stay. Just until we know for sure how he his."

The nurse smiled. "Great. I'll let you know as soon as I can, OK?" She patted Emma on the arm in a consoling fashion which Emma thought was utterly misplaced because they had just established that she wasn't really anything to Killian other than a poor stand-in for family.

"Aurora? You coming?" A man in a white coat who Emma didn't recognise stuck his head around the double doors through which Killian had been wheeled.

"Yep," the nurse replied, and Emma felt some relief at finally learning the nurse's name, but it was useless information as soon as Aurora hurried off and Emma was left alone in the waiting room feeling anything but relief.

There was nothing to do but wait. And wait, and wait. And while she was waiting she watched other people, other families coming and going in various emotional states and it just hit home how detached from the world she really was.

If it was Emma in hospital, who would be waiting out here for her?

Eventually Emma's mind shut down, not quite relaxed enough for sleep, but no longer able to keep up the whirling pool of worry that had fuelled her adrenaline surge up until now. She had resorted to leaning on one hand and staring blankly at the coffee machine that she was too wary to try.

But she was roused from her not-quite-slumber by Aurora touching her arm "Emma?"

"Yep. I'm…here." She sat up straighter and tried to surreptitiously wipe away any drool on her face.

"Come through. You can see him now."

"Oh. OK." Emma stood up and followed Aurora as she led the way out of the waiting room and through the double doors.

"You can talk to Dr Whale first, but he's fine. Really. Just a little banged but nothing broken. So that must be a relief for you."

"Um. Yes." Emma's brain felt slow and sluggish and she wished she could be as upbeat as Aurora sounded, especially given the fact that she had merely been sitting all this time and Aurora had, presumably, been working.

Emma was eventually led to a desk tucked away in one of the corridors and greeted by Dr Whale who smiled at her, which was unnerving because she didn't think she'd ever been the recipient of one of those before.

"Mr Jones'll be fine. There are some cracked ribs and his left knee is pretty swollen, but we couldn't find any fractures. Everything else is just bruising and superficial lacerations. Looks worse than it is."

"That's good."

"Go on through." Dr Whale gestured to a door off the corridor.

"Oh, no. I should let him rest."

"A short visit won't hurt. And I think he's expecting you."

Once again Emma found herself swept up in everyone's assumptions that Killian actually wanted her here, and she allowed herself to be ushered into Killian's room. Seeing him again, lying there, the cuts on his face far more obvious than they had been in the dark at the side of the road earlier, was both a relief and a jolt to her heart.

It made Emma anxious and utterly unsure of her own reactions. She liked things cut and dried, she liked to know where she stood but this weird mixture of emotions was new to her and she really didn't know how to handle it.

But then Killian caught sight of her and he smiled broadly, even though it looked a little painful, and Emma was left with a whole other thing to worry about. She didn't know how to be that person to someone, and she was afraid she'd just screw it up like she screwed everything up. Like the way she'd screwed up with Graham and Walsh and August and even Neal, screwed up to the point where they just left her because it was obvious that she was never going to be the person they needed.

"Hey," she said, when not talking was starting to become an issue. "You're looking…" Emma wasn't sure how to finish that.

"Not dead? Yes, well. It'd take more than that to finish me off, love."

"Uh-huh. Well, I don't think you should try to prove that theory anytime soon."

"You won't come and rescue me again?"

"Not from yourself if you do anything ridiculous, no. Just…try not to get hit by anything larger than you are next time, OK?"

Killian chuckled, and then winced and Emma sat down in the chair next to the bed, which seemed to please Killian, if his smile was anything to go by. Emma found herself so distracted by his smile that she didn't notice exactly how she ended up holding his hand, but he seemed to like that as well and, mostly, she was pleased that, in the five minutes she'd been in the room, she hadn't screwed it up.

And also just a little bit happy that he was mostly OK.

Her happiness bubbled over into her telling Killian that he didn't have to worry because she'd get his truck back home and check on his place and make sure Mr Smee didn't starve and took his medicine when he was supposed to. If she'd stepped back and thought about it, she might have realised that she was getting herself awfully entangled in the life of someone she'd been trying to keep at arm's length, but it had been a long night and Killian really didn't have anyone else.

And maybe, just maybe, she liked the idea that he wanted her to help him out.

Eventually Dr Whale appeared in the room. "I hate to break this up, but you need your rest."

"I've done nothing but lie here, and I can't see that changing anytime soon," Killian grumbled.

"I meant Emma," Dr Whale replied.

"Ah, well. Maybe it's time she should leave, before she decides I should be put out of my misery. She has form on that front, you know. Thought I should have my cat put down."

"I think she's far more likely to get you fixed. In my experience women are less than forgiving of men who like to wander off and get themselves into trouble."

Both men laughed, but Emma felt that she needed to correct the assumption that Dr Whale was making. "Yeah, that's not something I'm planning, at all."

She realised she'd merely played along with the joke when the only response she got from Killian and Dr Whale was more laughter.

"I think, perhaps, I should go," Emma added, standing up.

"But you'll be back later on, love?" Killian asked, his fingers reaching to hold onto hers.

"Oh, um. Sure. I'll call back in…later. You, uh. Feel better, OK?" She patted him on the shoulder and walked out of the room quickly, not making eye contact with Dr Whale as she passed him.

She marched down the corridor, through the double doors and made it all the way to the main lobby of the hospital before she sat down heavily in one of the hard plastic chairs and let the tears that she'd held back earlier in the night finally fall.

And that was where Emma was, head in hands and tears running down her face, when she heard Mary Margaret say "Emma?" Looking up she realised it wasn't just Mary Margaret, but David as well.

"Are you OK?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Yeah." Emma wiped her face with a hand. "Long night. I need to, um…get home. And then to work…I guess." She hadn't really thought through how she was going to manage any of that; her car was still parked at the side of the road, behind Killian's truck.

"But you weren't working last night." David stated, at the same time as Mary Margaret asked "But what happened? Why are you here?"

"Oh. I…my neighbour. You know, the guy with the annoying cat? He got hit by a car and I brought him in." That seemed to sum up the situation as far as Emma could tell, but Mary Margaret frowned and then sat down in the chair beside her and didn't seem satisfied at all.

"Were you in the accident? Are you hurt?" Mary Margaret's eyes flicked over Emma's face.

"Nope. No. I just found him and got the ambulance. It wasn't a big deal, really." Emma waved a hand in front of her face.

Mary Margaret's expression didn't change, however. She still looked worried. Emma decided to change the subject. "So, why are you guys here so early in the morning?"

Mary Margaret looked up at David and there was a smile on her face now. In fact she was positively glowing. And then she reached into her purse and pulled out some kind of a photograph before handing it Emma who looked at the grey, blurred image for a few moments before figuring out what it was. "Oh. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Mary Margaret replied, still smiling broadly. "It actually feels pretty good to finally be able to tell people now we've had the scan and know everything's OK."

"Yeah," David echoed, wearing an identical smile.

"I just…a baby. That's huge." Emma's tired brain was struggling to think of what to say. On top of everything that had happened during the night this was just a little overwhelming. And it wasn't that she wasn't genuinely happy for them, of course she was. And they'd make great parents. But Emma felt so out of step with her friends that it wasn't even funny and it set off a prickly, uncomfortable feeling under her skin.

"It's gonna be…quite something," David said, rocking on his feet and looking as pleased as punch, almost like he'd done it all himself.

"Look, I should probably get home," Emma handed the photo back to Mary Margaret, who stroked it reverently, before placing it back in her purse.

Mary Margaret's expression switched from happy back to concern as soon as she focussed on Emma again. "Emma, I don't think you should be going to work straightaway. The shadows under your eyes are enormous."

"OK. Great, thanks."

"Emma, I'm being serious." And Mary Margaret was using her most serious voice, the one she, no doubt, used on the most troublesome third graders.

"I know, and I appreciate it, but…" Emma sighed. "I just…"

"Yeah. No buts. David, you go and bring the car around to the front, Emma and I will meet you out there." David walked off and Emma realised there wasn't much choice but to go along with Mary Margaret's plan. At least it solved one problem.

"If you could take me to my car, then that'd be great."

"Of course, but you need to go straight home. David can manage at work for the morning, at least." Mary Margaret frowned at Emma's sceptical look. "What? It's Storybrooke. I'm sure if anyone wants to commit a truly heinous crime we can ask them to hold off until you've had some rest."

"Maybe if you ask them. I think all the truly heinous criminals will take more notice of you than they will of David."

"Of course they will," Mary Margaret said, standing up. "I probably taught them all to read."

Emma followed Mary Margaret as she started walking through the lobby, past the doctors and nurses and the people just milling around. "So you just happened to find him?" Mary Margaret asked, in a voice that was a little too casual.

"Oh. Well I knew he was out looking for his cat, and he didn't reply to my text…I found Mr Smee. He just showed up…that's the cat. And then I just…I figured something was wrong. So I went to look and there he was."

"So you saved him?"

"What? No. It wasn't anything as dramatic as that…I just called so they'd send an ambulance. Dr Whale did the rest."

"Uh-huh." Mary Margaret didn't sound all that convinced.

"It's what anyone would have done. You would have done it." Emma didn't really want to defend her actions but she felt like Mary Margaret was giving them more weight than was actually deserved. She hadn't done anything than any normal person would have done.

"Yes, but maybe only if I'd noticed someone as I was driving past. But you said you went out looking for him?"

"It's not like that," Emma said, hurriedly.

"Like…what? That you care about him?"

Emma sighed. "That I think it could go anywhere even if I did. He's just here while he has a job at the boatyard and when that's finished, he'll be gone. Hardly worth getting all excited over." She gave Mary Margaret a sideways glance. "And please, after the night I've had I don't need to be reminded that it's important to keep thinking I'll get a happy ending. I understand I'm supposed to hope for the best but just…sometimes it's not gonna work out like that."

They walked through the big revolving door at the front of the hospital and then stopped outside. "I get that," Mary Margaret replied. "I mean. I really do." She looked away from Emma for a moment and then seemed to make a decision about something. "We tried, for a long time. For this baby. It was a really long time."

"I…didn't know."

"Well, of course you didn't. You have your own life, you don't need to get all our problems dumped on you. But I felt it, too. That feeling that no matter how much you want something it's just not in the cards for you. And I started to think it was never going to happen. But then David said that sometimes life isn't just about the ending, it's about the moments that make up the whole thing. And that if you can make the most of those moments as you live them, then sometimes life just surprises you."

"That seems…very philosophical for David."

"Well, I think he got it from his mother. It sounds more like something Ruth would say. But I think you get what I'm saying."

"That I should make the most of the times I have to rescue my neighbour from the side of the road?" Emma gave a rather flippant shrug, hoping she was doing a good job of pretending that none of it really mattered to her.

"That you shouldn't let the fact that this maybe doesn't look like the path to your happy ending stop you enjoying the journey."

Emma decided she needed to be a little more serious. "I just don't think…I mean, I wouldn't want…" She paused, and took a deep breath. "I couldn't take being let down. When he does leave. I don't want to go through all of that." Again, she added in her own head.

"Nothing is guaranteed in this life, Emma. Nothing," Mary Margaret said vehemently, and Emma was about to reply that it was all well and good to think that when you'd just found out that your dearest wish was coming true, but David drove around the building and she settled for getting in the backseat of their car instead.

It was a little like going on a daytrip with your parents, Emma thought, as they made their way out to where her car and Killian's truck were parked. Mostly she just kept quiet, hoping that Mary Margaret wasn't going to re-start their earlier conversation. And she didn't; David's presence meant they retreated into a cosy bubble of self-congratulation. Emma could hardly blame them for it, but it was hard not to feel a little excluded all the same.

When they reached the other vehicles there were some complicated negotiations to work out who drove what. In the end Emma drove her own car, David took Killian's truck after she handed him the keys that had been stashed in the nightstand in Killian's room, and Mary Margaret drove her own car. And then, in an almost stately procession, they drove on to Emma's house.

"Well, thanks for that," Emma said, as David handed back the keys to Killian's truck.

"No problem. I hope your, uh…friend, feels better soon," David replied. "You know, you did a really good thing, Emma."

"Oh, yeah. I guess."

"He's a lucky guy."

"He is?" Emma wasn't sure that's how she'd put it.

"To have a friend like you."

"Right. Yeah. Well, I'd maybe even go and scrape your ass off the side of the road as well."

"I'll remember that. Oh, and I told the station you wouldn't be in until later on."

"You didn't have to do that. I'm fine, really. I just need a shower and some coffee and I'll be straight there."

"No, no. You take as long as you need." David patted Emma on the shoulder and she fought the urge to shrug it off. He meant well, but she was starting to feel uncomfortable about the mantle he was trying to place on her shoulders.

She just wanted to get back to normal.

It was a relief to get inside her cottage and almost trip over the two cats waiting to inform her that breakfast had been horribly delayed and they were suffering because of it.

At least with Tinkerbell and Mr Smee she could avoid awkward conversations about Killian, and even more awkward moments of being praised for her actions. It wasn't anything special, it was just a friend helping out another friend.

And as long as she kept telling herself that, she might almost believe it.

Despite her earlier protests that she only needed a shower and coffee, Emma found the call of her bed far too tempting and she was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, waking a few hours later to find Tinkerbell staring at her from the other pillow and Mr Smee draped over her leg.

As much as she'd wanted to escape from Mary Margaret and David, it was nice not to be completely alone. "Killian will be back soon and then you can go home again," Emma said, extricating herself from Mr Smee's rather warm embrace. He didn't seem to be particularly worried about Killian's absence and Emma wondered, not for the first time, just how much notice Mr Smee actually took of the world around him.

Showered, dressed and clutching a cup of coffee she arrived at the station only to find there'd been nothing that David couldn't handle and really, unless someone in Storybrooke suddenly decided to go on a crime rampage in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon, she could have stayed at home and reassured Mr Smee some more.

But she was there now, so she'd see it through, even though most of their afternoon consisted of various people who'd heard the news about the pregnancy from Leroy coming and congratulating David. "I don't even remember telling Leroy," David said, after the third person had just told him that his life was about to change forever.

"I don't think that's really an issue," Emma replied, wondering if there was any more coffee left. "He just kind of picks up what's going on from the atmosphere, or something." She started to walk to the coffeemaker and then stopped in her tracks. "So, why isn't he telling everyone about Killian?"

David crossed his arms and nodded. "Good point."

"Yes. Really good point." Emma was starting to get suspicious about what was going on, especially as David refused to meet her eyes.

"Um…you know, now that I think of it…I think perhaps Mary Margaret might have mentioned the pregnancy to Leroy. When she was in Granny's this morning." He shrugged.

"Thank you." Emma was incredibly touched. Of all the things they could have done for her, realising that she didn't need the whole town gossiping about her supposed rescue of Killian was probably the best one.

"Well, you can owe us some babysitting when the time comes."

"Uh. No. I'd be hopeless with a baby."

"You said that about cats, too. Now look at you." David smiled broadly, as though nothing was going to take away his happy vibe, and Emma ignored him. He'd done an incredibly nice thing for her, but even so, if he dumped a baby on her doorstep and expected her to look after it, he had another thing coming.

Emma stayed a little later at work, trying to make up for the hours she'd missed that morning, but there was only so much filing she could do, and only so long she could sit in a nearly-empty station and pretend that she wasn't a little anxious to find out how Killian was doing.

No one gave her a second glance as she walked through the hospital, the uniform acting like an invisibility cloak in places like this; there were almost always uniformed personnel of some description milling around.

But when she walked into Killian's room it was a different story altogether; he could definitely see her, and she found that she didn't really mind being the focus of his attention.

"So, what's life like outside the hospital? Have I missed anything?" Killian asked, as Emma took a seat beside his bed.

"Not so much. No major dramas. Clock tower's still standing."

"That's good to know, love. Wouldn't be Storybrooke without the clock tower."

"So I believe. Hey, here's something…uh, you know David? His wife Mary Margaret is pregnant. I ran into them after I left you this morning. They'd been for some kind of scan and got the all-clear, at least, that's what they told me."

"Well, that's good news for them." Killian did a weird scan of her face as he said that, as though he was checking her reaction.

"Yeah, it really is. I'm happy for them. They deserve to get the family they want."

Killian looked thoughtful for a moment before replying. "And the fact that I am being entrusted with this news, it is another case of me taking the secret with me when I leave?"

"What? Oh. No. Not in this case. Leroy knows, so everybody knows. You can blab it all you want, but I think it'll be yesterday's news pretty soon. Which is good, because it means we're not. News, that is. At all."

"We aren't news?" Killian seemed a little perplexed by that.

"Yeah, you know. The whole accident and me finding you thing. It's, uh…well you don't want everyone knowing your business, do you?"

"Love, I don't care who knows what you did for me. You deserve all the praise in the world."

"Um. OK." That just made Emma uncomfortable once again.

"I meant it. I am indebted to you Emma Swan."

"Well, maybe I'll call in that debt sometime."

"Maybe you should." Killian raised his eyebrow with what looked like some effort, given the current state of his rather battered face, and Emma wondered how, yet again, she'd been manoeuvred into this kind of challenge.

Killian seemed to have a knack for this. Or maybe she was an easy target. Either way, the results were the same.

Trying to take some control back, Emma said "You don't owe me anything. It was the right thing to do."

Killian sighed. "You're going to bloody disagree with me again, but you really are the kindest person I know."

"Right. Yeah." Emma rolled her eyes because he could say that all he wanted but he didn't live in her head and she was far from the saint he seemed to think she was.

"You know what?" Killian shifted in the bed, trying to sit up a bit straighter. "Maybe I'll tell you a secret."

"OK." Emma worried about what on earth it could be. She hoped it wasn't anything involving Leroy.

"I was hoping it would be you." Killian looked pretty pleased with himself, but Emma was completely lost.

"What?"

"When you brought Mr Smee back. You see, I'd seen you before, at the docks. You were dealing with those guys and the argument over who'd caught what when they'd been out fishing, and there'd been some kind of fist fight over the cooler when they got back to shore. It might have even been a fish fight."

"Yes! I remember. That guy they call Happy hit the other one in the face with a mackerel. Wait? You saw that?"

"I did indeed, love. And I watched while that less-than-happy guy and his mate chewed your ear off for a good twenty minutes when you came to sort it out. I think that David wanted to just push the pair of them into the sea, but you were so very patient and, at the end of it, I think they tried to make you take the fish."

"Yeah. I got out of that by saying it would look like they were bribing me. Actually that was the only part that interested David, I think he envisioned free fish for dinner." Emma remembered that David had actually been a little put out that she'd been offered the fish and not him, and he'd been a pain in the ass for the rest of the afternoon.

"But how did you know where I lived?" Emma asked, feeling more than a little suspicious.

"Oh, I had no idea. Not until I heard a voice across the road telling Mr Smee to bugger off home."

"I don't think I used that phrase."

"No, but the intent was fairly clear. And I thought I recognised the voice. At least, I hoped it was attached to the woman I'd seen at the docks."

"So you just waited until Mr Smee annoyed me so much I brought him home?"

Killian screwed up one side of his face, and tilted his head to the side. "It wasn't exactly a well thought out plan as such. I just hoped that our paths might cross. I certainly didn't know he was raiding your pantry every night."

"OK." Emma took a moment to process everything he'd said. "So why tell me now? I mean, Mr Smee's not going to blab your secrets."

"Because," Killian said, reaching out a hand and laying it over the one Emma had resting on the edge of his bed. "I had quite the night last night. And I just wanted you to know."

"That you considered stalking me?"

"That I appreciate you, and I have since I first saw you on the docks."

Emma didn't trust herself to respond to that. Denial would no doubt sound petty and most likely offend the man who was trying to be nice, and simply fleeing from the room, as attractive an option as that was, wouldn't be any better.

"I don't expect anything, Emma," Killian said gently, and she nodded, not quite managing to make eye contact. "But I've learned that you don't always get a second chance in life, and it would be remiss of me not to say something."

"That you appreciate me?"

"Appreciate you, fancy you…pick whatever term you like, love."

"That's the uniform. Everyone likes a girl in uniform." Emma pulled, what she hoped, was a rueful expression, and Killian laughed.

"Is that how they get you to wear it?"

"Something like that." Emma gave him the best smile she could under the circumstances and then flicked her eyes down to look at where his hand was still covering hers. She wished she had something real she could add to the conversation, a secret that she felt like sharing. But her secrets were locked away and it would take more than a few kind words from a man in a hospital bed to make her bring them out for his perusal.

It was hardly worth the pain it would cause; not when he wasn't going to stick around. Better to let him carry on appreciating her, or whatever it was he wanted to do, for the time he was here. Better to listen to Mary Margaret's advice and take this moment for what it was, just a moment in time when she had someone who thought she was special.

"It looks better on you than on your mate Dave," Killian said, breaking into Emma's thoughts.

"What does?"

"The uniform. He was in here this morning, trying to get some details of the car that hit me. But I can't remember a bloody thing about what happened. Other than you turning up, that was pretty memorable."

"Well, maybe you'll think of something."

"Maybe. David said the same thing. And, you know, it kind of makes sense now that he was looking a bit…pleased with himself when he was here."

"Yeah…he was. All day. I don't know quite why he's taking all the credit, but I wasn't going to tell him he couldn't."

Killian laughed and she wanted to ask if David had said anything else, if he'd warned Killian off or told him that he was lucky to have Emma as a…well, as a whatever she was to Killian. But she didn't think it was a good idea to bring any of that up right then. None of it would be pertinent to what she actually was, and that was Killian's friend.

They sat in silence for a while and then Emma decided the best thing she could do to be his friend, was to reassure Killian that she'd look after Mr Smee. She outlined the plan she had for the rest of the evening, including stopping for frozen yoghurt. "Because you promised him, didn't you?" she asked.

There was no reply. Killian had fallen asleep.

Emma stood up and gently moved her hand from under his, trying not to wake him up. She stood and looked at him for a moment or two, before bending over so her mouth was close to his ear.

"And this is my secret," she whispered, watching his face for signs that he wasn't asleep. There was no movement, so she continued on. "I wish that you weren't leaving. I wanted…I want, just once, I want someone not to give me up. Plus, maybe I'd like to kiss you. Properly."

Emma held her breath and waited, but Killian didn't stir. Feeling a little bolder now, she leant down and touched her lips to his, as gently as she could. She half-hoped that he might open his eyes at her touch, that she would be caught out and forced to show her hand. But Killian remained steadfastly asleep, the beginnings of a snore sounding in his throat.

"Sleep well, Killian." Emma stood up and, as quietly as possible, left the room and shut the door behind her.

Thanks for reading!