Here we go, another chapter. ;) Thanks for all the encouragement, and I hope you'll keep reading. Someone asked why doesn't Emma try "true love's kiss"; aside from the fact that then the fic would end in the first chapter, I believe that it only works if two people are in love, and Killian doesn't love Emma right now, even if she does feel familiar to him. On with the story...

Emma is floating somewhere between sleeping and waking; she's aware of her surroundings, but she's too comfortable to wake up fully. Her nose is pressed against Killian's shoulder, and her hand is on his chest, right over his heart, which is beating slowly and steadily.

All at once, she remembers the previous day and her eyes snap open. Slowly, she disentangles herself from him and sits up, breathing a sigh of relief when she realizes Killian is still asleep.

He looks different when he's asleep, younger, softer somehow, even with the scruff covering his cheeks. Emma sits there and lets her eyes roam over his face, over his nose and lips and closed eyes, and it's easy to pretend yesterday was just a bad dream.

"Do you make it a habit of watching me sleep?" He startles her, his eyes still closed, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Emma sputters a bit, shifts her position, and finally answers. "Usually, I don't."

"Why now, then?" He asks, and Emma shrugs.

"I don't know. It just happened. How did you know?"

"I guessed, then you confirmed it", he says, finally opening his eyes. The grin that was beginning to form turns into a frown as his eyes move from left to right before closing again.

"Still can't see?" Emma asks, even though it's quite clear he can't.

"No. I don't know why I even expected-" he trails off, and Emma stares in surprise as a single tear glistens on his lashes, trembles there for a moment, then rolls down his cheek. She catches it on her thumb, her knuckles caressing his face in the process.

Every time she thinks this can't be any harder, he proves her wrong.

After breakfast, during which Henry barely closes his mouth enough to eat a bowl of cereal before school, Emma guides Killian around the apartment, and they both learn the number of steps between kitchen and bedroom, bathroom and living room, Henry's room and back door, and everything in between.

Killian sits on the sofa as she gathers various mementos of his life and their relationship and then they sift through them. He holds his spyglass and hook in his hand, then a snow globe of Storybrooke, which he brought her a couple of months after he came through the portal, expecting her to be as amazed as he was. She had laughed at his face, told him she wasn't 5 years old, but had still kept it. She describes every picture she's got of them, most of them taken at various parties Snow had thrown over the past year, and the progression from reluctant friends to lovers is so painfully obvious Emma feels a little thrown, a little emotional.

After about an hour of that, Killian gets up and just walks away. He doesn't say anything, he just takes those 13 steps and slams the bedroom door. Emma lies down on the sofa and stares at the snow globe until it gets blurry.

"Emma", he asks from the doorway, and she sits up, glancing at the clock. It's been nearly two hours, during which she did absolutely nothing except thinking how unfair this is and how helpless she feels.

"Still here", she says, and he comes back to sit next to her.

"I apologize for-"

"Don't. I dumped everything on you at once and obviously it's the wrong way to go", Emma says and sets the snow globe on the table.

"It's just so… overwhelming. I can't see and I can't remember anything, and it's all too much", he says, shaking his head.

"I understand. I was so focused on how much I want you to remember that I hadn't realized how hard this is for you."

"I think it's worse for you", he says softly, and Emma stares at his profile, and she can almost feel him on her fingertips.

"I think you're right", she says, a trace of laughter in her voice. It's only been a day, and she needs to get a grip. This isn't the end of the world, even if it feels like it is.

"Then you wouldn't mind trading places?" He asks, and a smile is creeping into his voice too.

"I wouldn't." It comes out in a hurry, then she thinks about it and she realizes she really wouldn't mind; she's trade places with him in a heartbeat.

"This conversation is as pointless as everything we did today", he says, and the dark mood returns.

"We ate breakfast. That wasn't pointless", Emma says meekly, already feeling exhausted and ready for bed, and it's not even noon yet.

Killian leans forward with his elbows on his knees and from Emma's perspective it looks like he's staring at the carpet, finding the pattern absolutely captivating. Hesitantly, she puts her hand on his back and starts rubbing it, her entire body tingling from the feel of his muscles underneath the black T-shirt he's wearing.

"Close your eyes", she orders, and he turns his head toward her, his gaze just a little off.

"What difference does it make?"

"Just do as I say for once", Emma snaps, and to her surprise, he does.

"Now don't think, just feel", she says and starts massaging his shoulders, getting on her knees to get better access. Her thighs are pressed against his back and it's like going back in time to countless times she did that since they got together.

"You were the one who thought me how to do this. I never had anybody who would stick around long enough for me to get used to doing something for them just because I could. I was so selfish before you, taking what I could and giving nothing back, but I'm not like that anymore. You made me better, and now I'm gonna do whatever it takes to help you, and you're gonna have to get used to it."

"Tell me how we met", he says, and Emma does. She tells him how her and Snow fell though the portal to the Magic land, how they joined forces with Aurora and Mulan and found him in their ravaged camp. She doesn't gloss over anything, tells him exactly how suspicious she was of him and how she left him on top of the beanstalk because even then she could feel herself falling. She hadn't let herself admit it then, but it was always there.

"If you left me there, how did I end up here?" he asks, and Emma sits back on her heels and tells him about the magical bean he got from the giant and how she punched him and abandoned him the second time, but he still managed to cross from that realm to this.

"You just don't give up, even when it's bad for your health", she chuckles, and he turns toward her, his eyes locking onto hers.

"Do you think I came here not just to exact revenge on Rumpelstiltskin, but also because of you?"

"I don't know. I like to think you did, but in all honesty, I think you were too focused on revenge at the time. But you definitely liked me from the start. You're a great actor, but even you couldn't hide the fact that I hurt you when I left you like that."

"That doesn't sound very pirate-like", he says, rising his eyebrows in self-mockery.

"Sometimes you are too pirate-like it borders on ridiculous. You keep calling me lass and princess and a dozen other nicknames that drive me crazy, you're so superstitious it would be cute if it wasn't so annoying, and you've got this uncanny ability to predict the weather perfectly. Not to mention how you can't stay away from the water for more than a few days. And you're pretty good with a sword."

"Do I have a ship? I think I do, but I can't tell if I actually know that or I just think a pirate should have one."

"You had a ship, the Jolly Roger. It kinda blew up. Now you have a boat." Emma searches his face for any sign of recognition, and finds nothing.

"Is it called Emma?"

"No, it's called Henry", Emma says, feeling so hopeless, because she would give anything for just a single memory coming back to him.

"That was just a stab in the dark, none of that rings any bells", he says and Emma decides they need to stop this for today.

"It's only been a day. Give it time", she tells him, but it sounds more like she's trying to convince herself.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling", he says, and it's like déjà vu, because he said those exact words to her when she told him that she doesn't feel anything for him and never would.

He sits up and smiles. "I said that to you before. It was raining and you were mad at me."

"Yes", Emma agrees, smiling widely because it's the miracle she'd been hoping for.

His hand slides over the sofa upholstery to cover hers, and it's like coming home. They sit like that for a while, his thumb tracing circles on her skin, their breathing in perfect sync.

It may take some time, but they will be alright.

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