A/N: Many thanks to TC for the sad music.

Killian woke up late, sunlight drifting motes of dust over his face. Henry was already gone, and he assumed David or Snow must have gotten him to school.

He stretched, blinking away the sleep still in his eyes. Without Henry home, he didn't have much to do. He was a lost boy, stuck in a painful world where lost boys were forced to grow up. He looked out the window, where he had hung the tangled and torn swan pendant.

A hole in the glass, a hole in her chest, a hole in his world. Killian was frozen in time. Then, with a backfiring car outside, he wasn't.

He dropped his arms and threw on his coat, swirling out the door.

~*/~*/~*/~

The trip down to the docks was harder this time, without Henry, without Emma. He was retracing those fateful steps down to the ship still anchored next to him. He still couldn't bring himself to step aboard, couldn't bring himself to sweep away the ashes that used to be Emma's heart. He was beginning to see why people killed themselves after their loved ones died.

He looked through the blinding sun and saw Emma, wreathed in ocean light. He blinked, wishing it away.

He took step after step, saltwater filling the air in much the same way it had so many years ago, the last time he treaded wooden boards in mourning.

Only this was his ship, docked and broken and the ocean a forbidden land. There was nowhere for him to escape to this time. Emma was waiting at the end of the dock.

There was nowhere for a Lost boy to lose himself.

~*/~*/~*/~

"Captain?"

It was the first time he'd been on his ship since Emma died. Even now, she floated serenely up the gangplank, drifting like the early-morning dust motes. He flinched on sight.

"Captain?" His first mate was seriously concerned, bending over Killian, who was kneeling on the deck.

"Quiet." Killian asked, looking back down at the wood.

There was silver ash spread over the deck, finer than talcum powder and softer than silk. He nearly gagged.

Emma's heart was reduced to stardust and it was blowing all over his ship.

"Why didn't you clean this?" His voice trembled, but the crew pretended not to notice.

"We know what it is, Sir." His first mate replied, looking queasy. "We thought you might want to do that yourself." Ah. So they were being kind. Killian nodded absently, running silver dust between his fingers over and over.

~*/~*/~*/~

The crew had dispersed after he told them to. His first mate had pressed a tiny glass bottle, smaller than his little finger, into his palm. Killian knew what it was for.

He brushed a measure of stardust into the bottle, throwing the rest to the wind and ocean.

"You're free, aren't you?" He whispered.

"Lucky me." Emma smiled, leaning over the railing.

"Stop it." Killian hissed, turning away.

"Never." Emma grinned wickedly, running her fingers through his hair.

~*/~*/~*/~

"Killian!" Emma called down the stairs, taking out her earrings in front of her mirror. She was worried. He had been... different lately. Whatever sort of truth spell Regina had cast over him, it had left him jittery and nervous, and very un-Hook.

"Yes?"
Emma winced at the crashing sound from downstairs.

"You can't leave in this rain." Killian winced and tried putting the teakettle back into the cabinet. He failed.

"Erm, thanks, love, but I really must go." Emma raised her eyebrows, turning around to peek down the stairs.

"Wouldn't have expected you to turn that offer down." She called.

"Erm, well I-" Emma's eyebrows met ehr hairline as she walked in on Hook surrounded by pots and pans from the kitchen and clutching a metal teakettle as though his life depended on it.

"Um, what?" Killian's eyes were as big as his ego.

"I broke your teapot." He held it up meekly, showing her the plastic lid in his hand.

"No you didn't. And why are you so nervous?" Emma snatched the kettle, shoving pots and pans into the cabinet haphazardly.

"I don't actually want to be alone." Hook mumbled, looking down at his feet.

"Yeah. I offered to let you stay five minutes ago." Emma said, shrugging.

"Oh." Hook swallowed and refused to look up.

"Here, c'mon." Emma reached out a hand, beckoning him impatiently when he didn't immediately take it.

"But I-"

"Come." Emma pulled him up. "Now."

~*/~*/~*/~

"Am I supposed to be here?" Emma just rolled her eyes.

"Hook..." She paused, because calling him Hook seemed entirely wrong right now.

"Killian." She reached out a hand. "Try a little thing called trust."

He took it.

~*/~*/~*/~

Emma woke up at midnight with Killian's arms locked around her waist. The curved side of his hook was digging (not entirely uncomfortably) into her ribs and his legs were tangled irretrievably with hers.

It was awkward, but nice. After a few seconds of initial and expected struggling, she soon settled in and wrapped her fingers around his hook and remaining hand.

She wasn't alone anymore.

~*/~*/~*/~

"You called me Killian." Not exactly what she expected first thing in the morning, but she was glad to find Hook was back to normal. It was kind of unnerving to see him so much not himself.

"I did." Emma threw off the sheets and stood, making her way towards the window where he stood.

"Why?" His voice was hard, sharp around the edges, but his muscles were relaxed, his body still. He felt safe here, whether he wanted to or not.

"You're not alone anymore." She said softly.

"Say it again." He said suddenly. In other circumstances it might have been a demand, but here and now it was a plea. A need to hear somebody calling him by his real name, to affirm he still existed, that he mattered to somebody.

That he wasn't alone.

"Killian." She smiled, taking his face between her hands and kssing him softly.

~*/~*/~*/~

Killian stared into the ghost's eyes and saw nothing of Emma there.

"Captain?" His first mate asked, watching perplexed as Killian stalked past him. Emma just smiled and turned, leaning back against the railing.

"Can you sail this ship?" Killian bit out, utrning back to look at the man.

"Well, yes Captain, we can." He looked bemused.

"No. You." He pointed at the man, "Can you sail this ship."

"Yes Captain." The man replied, much steadier this time.

"Then it's yours." Killian said, voice sharp and shoulders tense. He looked a tap away from shattering.

"Goodbye Captain." He heard. "And good luck."

Killian gave a nod and walked down the gangplank.

He was alone again.

~*/~*/~*/~

Killian had gone home to find Henry and Snow peeling potatoes and was then summarily told to get David from the Sheriff's station and bring him home.

He didn't argue.

But when he took his first steps into the Sheriff's office for the first time since before Emma died he realized that maybe he'd had too much for one day.

"David?" Killian called.

Ah. He had fallen asleep. Killian paused, standing over the man asleep in his chair.

Well, not his chair. His daughter's. Killian put a hand on David's shoulder and shook him gently.

"David." Killian urged him. "Wake up now, come on."

"Killian. Sorry. What time is it?" David cleared hsi throat and began rifling through papaers.

"About half eight."

"Snow sent you?" David managed a half-smile, but it was a flicker of ash and weariness.

"Yeah. Potato soup for dinner." Killian faked a smile, and he was sure it came out nonchalant because David flinched. "I'll grab your coat." He added, turning.

"You're allowed to grieve, you know." David said softly. Killian froze, smile disappearing even though his face was turned away.

"No I'm not." Killian said. "They still don't believe I lov- care- cared for her." He swallowed, turning around with smile back in place.

"She was your True Love." David said firmly, buttoning his coat. "Anyone who says otherwise can take it up with me." David gave him a flicker of a smirk. "And I won't be kind."

A/N: Yeah. So. Um, that's about it. Chapter, what, 6?