Author's Note: This was such an emotional chapter to write but I hope you enjoy it. Again, reviews are always appreciated.

They were by the lake now, a thick fog was rolling across the pitch black water. Henry, her mom, her dad, Regina, Robin and Gold all about to be taken to the underworld. Emma hurried to her family and embraced them. Emma listened as Regina tried to reason with Hook, who stood watching, that he couldn't destroy another family like he had done with his father many years ago. Emma wanted to tell Regina it was hopeless. Killian had fallen to the Dark One.

"You have to decide what kind of man you want to be." Regina pleaded.

"It's time," Nimue said as she walked toward them, a wicked smile played on her lips. A boat with a hooded figure at its helm moved towards shore, ready to collect those who were damned.

The bitch seriously should've stayed dead, Emma thought. Emma knew she had to do something. She stepped forward to try to stop them but Nimue cast a spell restricting her airway. She couldn't breathe or even move. Emma felt a sense of dread as the first vision she had in Camelot began to play out in real life. All of the pieces falling into place. She had truly failed to save them. Her plan to take the Darkness in and use Excalibur to sacrifice herself had failed. Killian had the sword now. She looked at him pleadingly, praying he would break free of the Darkness and help her destroy it once and for all. She could see the expression on his face change as he fought the Darkness for control. She looked him in the eyes and she knew it was him.

"That's enough," he shouted. He had watched Nimue torture Emma and he couldn't bear to see her in pain. He fought like hell to free himself from the Darkness. He was strong enough. She made him want to be a better man and he had lost sight of that in a moment of weakness.

"What do you think you are you doing?" Nimue demanded.

"Being the man I want to be."

"You can't stop us," she laughed

"Yes, I can." He raised Excalibur in front of him, using every ounce of strength he possessed to draw Nimue and all the other Dark Ones into the sword. The sword was vibrating, the evil contained within held by sheer strength of will.

"Killian, you can't do this!" She begged him, knowing what he intended.

"We both know there's no other way, love. We have to hurry. The Darkness won't stay trapped in Excalibur much longer. Take it."

"No!"

"You have to help me, Swan. Take it!" He held the sword out to her. His grip on the sword was slipping. It was hard to manage with just one hand.

"I can't. It should be me."

"Your family needs you. If anyone deserves to go to the underworld, it's me. You were right. I was weak. So let me make up for it now by being strong."

"I don't want to lose you," she sobbed.

"And I don't want to lose you. But you have to let me go. Let me die a hero. That's the man I want you to remember, please!"

She took the sword. It was heavier than she remembered, the Darkness weighing it down in an attempt to escape. She held the sword in one hand and closed the distance between them. She placed her arms around him and kissed him.

"I love you." She knew she'd never recover from this. From him. Loving him and losing him was going to break her as nothing had or could.

"I love you too." He loved her more than anything and hoped she would be able to move on without him.

"It's okay." He knew that this was something she would try to blame herself for. He needed to reassure her that he didn't blame her. He tried to keep a brave look on his face, though, just for a moment, he thought about the fact that he was about to die however he couldn't turn back now. He thought he was prepared but the pain as she ran him through with Excalibur was beyond anything he anticipated. She wrapped her arm around him as he faltered. Her sobbing was heart wrenching. He placed his hand on her cheek as he had when they had made love. He cradled her face in his hand, trying to comfort her.

He broke off her embrace, moving in front of her. He wanted to stare into her emerald eyes. They stood, leaning against each other's foreheads and touching their noses to one another's. Suddenly a blinding white light radiated off of her. In an instant, she was in her red leather jacket and her blond hair flowed down her back. She pulled back and withdrew Excalibur. He truly felt weak now; he knew he didn't have much longer. He began to fall but Emma caught him and eased him to the ground. He looked her in the eyes, still red and swollen from tears and felt lucky to have had what time he had had with her. He wished for more but he knew it was just too late. Maybe in another life he thought as the blackness enveloped him.

Emma didn't know how long she had wept, clinging on to his body, refusing to let go. The awful pain from her vision had been the pain she had inflicted on Killian. She had felt it when she stabbed him, it nearly knocked her over. She wished that this was just a nightmare; that she would wake and find he was alright.

"Emma," her father's gentle voice said as he placed he hands on Killian's eyes closing them for the final time. "You have to let them take him."

Emma realized that the paramedics were standing with a gurney waiting. She couldn't let go. She wouldn't. Still sobbing, Emma sat up, closed her eyes and held her hand above his body. She could feel the preservation spell cloaking his body. She held onto his hand as the paramedics lifted him into a body bag on the waiting gurney. She felt her mother behind her and her low whisper.

"Emma, you have to let go." Her parents together held her in place as the paramedics began to move away.

Emma dropped Killian's hand and it suddenly felt like the world was closing in on her. She knew she would have fallen had her mother's arms not wrapped her in their embrace. She felt her father holding her up as her knees almost gave way. After a few long moments, Emma heard a voice that shook her out of the foggy haze of her mind.

"Mom?" Henry's voice said, breaking a little.

Emma sobered for a moment, turned and gathered her son into her arms. She felt awful she hadn't thought of Henry sooner.

"I'm sorry, kid. You shouldn't have had to watch that."

"Mom, I loved him too. I never really got to know my father, he was only here for a few weeks. Killian taught me about him and what he was like when he was my age. He became my friend and taught me how to sail, how to navigate and so much more. He was the closet thing to a true dad that I've known."

Henry's words broke her heart. The dam of tears that she had that she had been trying to hold back broke. She knew the tears were freely flowing down her cheeks again. She felt Regina's hand on her shoulder.

"Henry, you should come home with me for a little while. Emma needs some time to herself."

Regina transitioned Henry into her embrace and looked at Emma. Their eyes met in silent understanding. Emma felt guilt at not putting their son first but she knew Henry would be taken care by his other mother while she grieved.

"Thank you, Regina. Henry, I promise we will talk more soon. Mom, Dad - I just need time. Please don't follow me." Emma thought of their home and closed her eyes, transporting herself there. She had learned a few useful things from the Darkness.

She stood in the entryway and looked around. Her gaze stopped on the kitchen table, her mind recalling a vision she had when she was still the Dark One. So different from the first, this was clear and detailed where the first was incoherent and vague.

She was sitting at the table in the kitchen as Killian and Henry cooked breakfast. Seven months pregnant, her feet were swollen so they had insisted she sit. Killian was upset she had woken and come downstairs because he had wanted to bring her breakfast in bed. She couldn't sleep long after he left their bed in the mornings. Emma was distracted by a kick from within. She placed her hand on her stomach.

"Killian, come here!" she demanded.

He turned and was at her side in an instant.

"What is it darling wife?"

She grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach.

"Do you feel that?" She asked. Their baby kicked again a few times. Killian's smile at the sensation went from ear to ear.

"You have a little pirate in you," he growled low into her ear. He faced her and kissed her soundly. "Our son ..."

"Killian, how many times must I tell you. My mother used my grandmother's charm and it indicated that our child will be a girl."

"Lad or lass doesn't matter to me. Just as long as you both are healthy."

"Killian, I have done this before, you know? Modern medical technology here is pretty different from what you may have experienced, old man." She grinned at his frown.

Henry set the plates of pancakes on the table. He sat watching his parents playful banter.

"Pancakes are getting cold. Mom, you should eat," Henry said handing her a fork.

Killian sat down at the table and they all ate their breakfast. Killian and Henry talked about Henry's school work and his weekly swordsmanship lessons. Emma sat silently listening to her husband and son and sighed. Her True Loves. She felt so much joy in that moment she could barely contain the feeling.

The vision had been one she was sure would come to pass. Or rather hoped would come to pass. Rumplestiltskin, the manifestation of the Darkness, had warned her that she would learn to distinguish what can be from what will be. She had seen so many possibilities of the future but hadn't been able to filter out the clutter from the truth. Emma laid down on the couch in the living room staring at the ceiling. Emma never knew it was possible to cry so much, her vision blurry and unclear, she tried to focus on the good moments they had had together.

Emma twirled his ring in her hand. So many things were impossible now. Their future was no more and Emma had no idea how to move on. He had called her an anchor in their heated conversation, but he didn't realize he was her anchor. Without him she felt adrift, drowning in her emotions and the visions she had seen as the Dark One. All she could focus on were the missed opportunities and experiences. Reliving the possibilities of a future that would never come to pass was the worst sort of torture.

Killian opened his eyes and looked around his unfamiliar surroundings. He was lying in a large bed in a room with a window seat overlooking the harbor. He had seen this room before, but not in person. It was their house. How did I get here, he thought. He was alone in the bed but the space next to him was still warm. He laid his head on the other pillow, inhaling deep. It smelled of her. Emma was here. What happened at the lake must have been a bad dream because there was no bleeding wound in his abdomen, no scar on his neck. Killian sat up and walked over to a dark mahogany wardrobe, in which he found his clothes.

His brace was laid out on a chair next to his wardrobe but his hook was nowhere to be found. Perhaps Emma took it as a prank again. He'd ask her where it was as soon as he found her. He looked around the room finding the door to her closet and then the connected master bathroom he remembered from the advertisement.

Killian showered and then dressed himself. He could smell coffee brewing downstairs. He walked out of their bedroom passing stairs leading up to the third floor. That lead to what he had supposed they would use as an office. It had amazing see views, one of the reasons he had liked this house. He passed three other bedrooms on his way to the stairs leading to the ground floor. He looked around the kitchen and living room but Emma was nowhere to be found. He checked the basement and still hadn't found her. When he came back into the kitchen he found an empty coffee mug in the kitchen sink. She wouldn't have gone to work without saying goodbye. Maybe she had texted him.

Killian went back to their bedroom to check his phone but found no messages. He looked around the room again. He noticed that she had displayed some pictures on a long white dresser on the far wall. He walked over and picked up one in a small black frame. It was a picture from the party after they had defeated the Snow Queen. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders and she leaned against him. The picture had caught them both in the middle of a laugh. He set it down and picked up another. Him and Henry at the helm on the Jolly Roger. Another picture of Emma, Henry, her parents, Regina, Robin, Roland and himself at the celebration just before Emma had become the Dark One.

How long ago had that been? He couldn't remember. It felt like ages since that moment.

He thought maybe Emma had gone up to the office. He ascended the stairs and entered a round room. Three large windows each with a window seat let light into the room. It was filled with dark bookshelves and volumes of old books. A large fireplace took up a quarter of the wall space and two leather chairs sat in front of it. It was just the cozy space he had imagined that they could curl up in a chair or window seat and read book or talk or simply enjoy a quiet moment.

Killian heard a cry from downstairs. So much for a quiet moment. He rushed down to the room the noise had come from. It was a child crying. Killian opened the door to discover a nursery. A crib in the center of the room, a wooden rocking chair and stool in the corner and several shelves filled with books and toys. He entered the room but found it empty. He looked around the room trying to determine where the sound had come from when a toy on one of the shelves caught his eye.

A ship in a bottle. He walked over to inspect the ship. It was identical to the Jolly Roger. The way it had looked when Ursula summoned it from the Enchanted Forest. He placed it back on the shelf and glanced at the crib. How many times had he dreamt of a room such as this where he and Emma would welcome a lad or lass of their own? This wasn't real. He knew it in his heart.

They had never lived in this house together. He had planned it, of course, but things rarely went to plan. Especially in Storybrooke. He had intended to ask her father for his permission to marry her and propose to her when they had returned from Camelot. He'd marry his princess with as much pomp and fanfare as her parents required and they would build a life and family here in this home.

None of that had happened. The events at the lake flooded into his mind. He had given her the sword and asked her to help him end the Darkness. He was dead. Stuck in a reminder of a life not lived. Of what might have been. This was his own personal hell and there was no escape.