Snow fell lightly outside. Emma lounged on the soft leather couch, a pillow propped behind her back and a book in her hands. Her golden locks fell around her shoulders and she had a blissful smile on her lips. She was wearing nothing but one of Killian's button down shirts and a thick pair of socks. She was still getting accustomed to the cool hardwood floor at their cottage. Although, the socks were currently unnecessary, as the cottage was positively toasty. She crossed her legs as the fireplace crackled warmly in the heath in front of her.

"Hot cocoa?" Killian said walking towards her, balancing two cups in his hand.

"With cinnamon?" She asked, directing her smile towards him.

"Always," He said, bending down to hand her the mug. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek, his scruff tickling, before he sat on the couch next to her. She'd lifted her legs without being asked and rested her thighs on his lap. They'd settled into this lazy Sunday routine long ago, and she loved it. Loved him.

"Why is it you look so much better in my clothes than I do, love?" He said, his eyes trailing hungrily over her bare legs. His hand followed his gaze, gently tracing patterns along her skin. Even after all this time, his touch still sent a shiver through her.

She curled her toes and smirked, fully aware that he knew exactly how he looked in his clothes. And perhaps more importantly, he knew how she thought he looked in them. Unwilling to stroke his already inflated ego, she simply brandished her book towards him. "Read to me?"

"As you wish, love," He said, taking the book from her, his fingers brushing hers, sending another delightful shock down her body.

She sipped her cocoa and leaned back, letting his lilting voice wash over her. The story was lost on her, as her focus remained on Hook. Her eyes trailed over his hair, still adorably mussed from bed, to his eyes, clear and blue and full of love, to his lips, just begging to be kissed. She felt warm and fuzzy and deliriously happy. The once unfamiliar feeling she could only describe as bliss, warmly filling her chest. The warmth from the fire, and from her lightheartedness, enveloped her. Unable to control herself, she sat up and traced her thumb lightly over his lips. He bit her thumb gently, a playful smile on his face.

"How I am to read when you distract me so Swan?" Saying nothing, she ran her hand along his scruff, and then pulled his lips to hers. She kissed him deeply, trailing her tongue over his bottom lip. As always, he wasted no time in responding eagerly. He dropped the book and cupped her face with his hand, pulling her closer. When she finally pulled away they were both breathless.

"I love you Killian Jones, totally and completely." She said, her thumb lightly stroking his face. "I should have told you from the moment I first saw you. I regret every second I let go by without saying it. I love you."

"I will never get tired of hearing that," He laughed and pulled her onto his lap. "Nor will I ever tire of saying that I love you too, Emma," He kissed her palm and looked deeply into her eyes, where Emma saw the depth of emotion she felt reflected back at her. "More and more with each passing day." He kissed her, languidly. Emma smiled against his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I never thought I would have this," She said with a contented sigh as she rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and the soft crackle of the fire.

"Have what, love?" Killian asked, his hand gently toying with her hair.

"This. You. Happiness," She said, kissing him again. "Love."

"Aye," Killian said, bumping his nose against hers, his eyes shining. "It's just a shame it's not real."

Her world suddenly swayed. The warmth that consumed her was gone in an instant and a cold dread settled over her bones. Her vision swimming as everything, everything but Killian, danced around her.

"This isn't real love," Killian said with a sad smile. "You have to wake up."

"No, no. I love you. Please, no," Emma said, clinging to him desperately. Suddenly she was back in the orb, glass once again separating her from Killian. "No," She called again, banging on the glass as he stood in front of the portal.

"Emma, you have to wake up," He said, his blue eyes piercing. Emma could almost feel the sorrow dripping off his body in waves. He stepped through the portal and he was gone. Emma was alone. She always ended up alone. And then she was falling.

She screamed, or she tried to, but she was suffocating. Something was covering her mouth and her cries were strangled in her throat. Strange lights and sounds blinked around her. She tried to sit up, to get her bearings, but a weight on her chest held her down. She vaguely noted that warm blankets covered her body. Tubes pushed some sort of liquid into her veins.

"Emma, you have to relax," Dr. Whale said, standing over her, his hand on her arm. "Do you know where you are? Blink once for no, twice for yes."

Frantic, Emma cast her eyes around her and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Her heart was racing and every inch of her ached, a strange burning, tingling feeling coursing through her. She blinked once.

"You're in the ICU. You presented with respiratory and cardiac failure, secondary to hypothermia. You had to be endotracheally intubated and placed on a mechanical ventilator. Blink twice if you understand."

Emma blinked twice. She was in the hospital. The cold made her heart and lungs stop. A machine was breathing for her. Awesome.

"Good," He said with a smile. "You're breathing on your own now, so I am going to remove the tube. But you have to stay calm."

Emma blinked twice again. Dr. Whale removed the tube and Emma coughed, the sensation not exactly painful but certainly unpleasant.

"How—" She croaked, her throat throbbing.

"It's best you don't talk, at least until—"

"How long was I out?" Emma interrupted, ignoring Dr. Whale. Her voice sounded raspy and foreign. The doctor rolled his eyes, muttering something about difficult patients, as he cast his eyes over the machines, whizzing and beeping around her.

"A couple hours," Snow said, reaching for her hand. Her eyes were brimming with tears. David sat perched on the chair beside his wife. "We were so worried."

"And Killian?" She asked. She wanted to sit up, but summoning the energy was proving difficult.

"No news yet," Snow said, shifting in her chair and glancing at David. "But Regina's working on a way to reopen the portal." The Snow Queen had already had Killian for a couple hours. She wouldn't get more time, not if Emma could do anything about it. That was all the motivation she needed. She tugged roughly at the tubes in her arms and moved to get up from the bed.

"Emma, Emma, you have to calm down," David said, his hands suddenly on Emma's shoulders, firmly pressing her towards the bed. He was trying to be calm, but his voice shook, betraying his worry. Emma felt so weak, she was easily subdued. Her chest felt tight and her breathing was ragged.

"Your father's right Emma. You need to rest. Your core temperature is still dangerously low. You need a bretylium tosylate injection for your tachycardia—" Dr. Whale began.

"Whale. English. Please," Snow said, her voice shrill.

"Emma's heart rate is too fast and she is still too cold, if she doesn't get this injection, her heart could stop again." He said, holding a syringe. David and Mary Margret nodded simultaneously and Dr. Whale injected it into the IV bag.

The room spun before Emma's eyes as the IV dripped into her veins, the sensation cool and uncomfortable as the medication trickled into her body. She felt lightheaded. She fought to maintain consciousness, but black spots clouded her vision.

"I don't understand," David said, pulling a heated blanket back up to cover Emma. "She was trapped in ice before and she was fine. Cold, but fine."

"The story around town was that she was trapped in a cave," Dr. Whale said. "She would have been cold, but protected from the elements. The snow and the wind inside the globe lowered her body temperature considerably more this time. She is lucky to be alive. She'll be fine, but she needs to take it easy."

"That's not likely. Not when she has him," Snow said quietly, her attempt at a coded message laughable.

"We'll restrain her if that's what it takes—" David said.

"Gold," Emma rasped interrupting them. She felt in her bones that he knew more about the Queen's plan than he let on. He always did. And he certainly knew something about that damn VHS tape. "I want to talk to him." She said roughly.

"Of course," David said with a nod. "Just rest now, we'll talk to Gold." He squeezed Emma's hand. Emma closed her eyes against the blurry hospital room. She tried to recall the warm fire, and the cocoa, and Killian's embrace, but the harder she tried, the more quickly her dream slipped away. And then there was nothing but blackness when drugs finally prevailed over her iron will and she fainted.


Emma sat in Granny's, tightly holding a large mug in her hands, her shoulders slumped. The mug had long grown cold in her hands, although it was still full. She wished it was something stronger than hot chocolate. Only a few patrons sat in the diner and it was quiet, but she could feel their glances. She sighed heavily. She was the Saviour. The Goddamn Saviour. And she was useless. It had been days since Killian had been taken and they were nowhere closer to being able to get him back. Days.

Regina was still working on finding a way to reopen the portal, or to track wherever the Snow Queen's portal had gone. She'd finally grown tired of Emma's hovering and shoed her away, claiming she was nothing more than a distraction. Unable to face the pitying glances of her parents and Henry at home, she'd come here. And she'd sat here, nursing this hot cocoa. For hours.

She felt bile bite her throat as he thoughts turned to Gold. Her interrogation of him had given her nothing. The only thing Gold had been forthcoming about was that blasted tape he'd given her. After decoding his sly remarks, it was as she had surmised. Killian had wanted two hands and Gold had taken advantage of his vulnerability. Her stomach twisted as she racked her brain, trying to think of a time when she had ever made Killian feel that he wasn't enough. That he wasn't perfect just the way he was. Anything that had driven him to make a deal with that imp.

Speaking of the imp. For a man that seemed to have a hand in everything, he was suspiciously in the dark about everything else Emma had questioned him about. Gold knew nothing of the Snow Queen's plan. He had no idea where she'd taken Hook. He assured her there was no magic in this realm capable of reaching him, wherever he was. Her superpower told her that he was lying through his teeth, but in what was becoming her now signature unsaviour style, she had no idea what to do about it.

"Hi Emma," Tinkerbelle said, interrupting Emma's thoughts.

"Hey Tinkerbelle," Emma said, pushing her cold cocoa away from her slightly.

"Tink's good," She said nervously fiddling with something in her hands. "Um, do you mind if I join you?"

"Sure," Emma said gesturing to the booth across from her. Tinkerbelle sat, daintily.

"Emma, I'm sorry to intrude, but I really just wanted to talk to you about that night—"

"Tinkerbelle, Tink," Emma corrected quickly. "I know, really you don't have to—"

"It's just, it's important to me that you know that there's nothing between Killian and I and—"

"I know. Really Tink, I do," Emma said with a small, sad smile.

"I've moved back to Granny's," Tinkerbelle returned her smile and placed a large key on the table between them. "And I thought you should have this." Emma recognized it as the key to the cottage.

"Oh Tink, no, it's fine. You don't have to—" Emma started.

"I do." She said, pushing the key closer to Emma. "He always meant to live there with you. And it's strange being there now, without him," The fairy said, pausing for a moment. "He loved you, Emma. So much."

"Loves," Emma said, her voice catching. "He loves me." And I love him, she thought. Her fingers closed around the key and she swallowed thickly. She could feel tears threatening. "Thanks for this," She said putting the key in her pocket. She dropped some crumbled bills on the table without looking. She hoped it was close to the correct amount, but she had no idea. She slid out of the booth and walked towards the door. She vaguely heard Tink call something to her as she left the diner, but she didn't turn back. The bell over the door ringing loudly as she went.

She was absolutely certain there was nothing between the fairy and Killian, at least not anymore, but after Tinkerbelle's slip with her tenses she felt so overwhelmed. She was not willing to let Tinkerbelle see how upset she was. To see how useless the Saviour was. She couldn't bear to face yet another person who thought Killian wasn't coming back. That he was…dead. She knew he wasn't. She would know if something happened to him. She would feel it in her bones. Wouldn't she? Her hands deep in her pockets she walked aimlessly, lost in her thoughts. What was the point being the Saviour if she couldn't even save him?

Tears began to trickle down her cheeks and she shivered against the cold. God, she wished she could talk to him. She hadn't realized how much she had come to depend on him. His encouragement, his unwavering belief that she would succeed. She wiped her tears and continued her shuffling journey. She couldn't go back to the apartment, not like this. She wished she had her own place, so she could wallow, just for a minute. She slid her hand back into her pocket and her fingers bumped against the key. She sniffled and wiped her nose against the back of her sleeve, as her steps became more purposeful.

Minutes later, the lock clicked open easily and she stepped inside, banging the snow off her boots. The house was quiet and cold. She felt more relaxed just being here. The cottage reminded her of Killian and she felt closer to him. Walking into the kitchen, she realized with a start that it also reminded her a bit of her New York apartment. She smiled when she imagined Killian seeing the cottage for the first time, his keen eye easily picturing them living here. Together. She wished she had been able to see it sooner.

Scratches on the pale marble island caught Emma's eye. She blushed, despite being alone, when she realized she'd put them there with her heels the last time she had been here. God, that seemed like years ago. She trailed her fingers over it almost reverently. She felt the overwhelming sadness she'd been trying to keep at bay bubbling inside her chest. She expelled a ragged breath and walked to the bedroom. Her desire to wallow threatening to consume her. Her heart twisted when she saw the room was almost identical to the last time she'd been here, the sheets still rumpled on the bed. She pulled off her boots and lay down, wrapping herself in the thick blankets. She pressed her face against the pillow, breathing in deeply. The sheets smelt faintly of him.

Just as she was beginning to fully give into the nostalgia, her phone chirped loudly jarring her back to the present. She sighed and pulled it out to look at the display. It was probably her parents, wondering where she was. Trying to encourage her to have hope. Urg. Her heart jumped when she saw it was Regina calling. She sat up and clumsily dropped her phone onto the floor.

"Goddammit," She cursed, rolling out of the bed. She dropped to the floor and reached under the bed to retrieve her still ringing phone. Feeling blindly under the bed, her hand caught a file folder and she pulled it towards her. She flipped it open, scanning the pages. "What the hell," She mused as she poured through the documents, her other hand reclaiming and answering the call.

"Regina," Emma said, her voice hopeful. "Please, please tell me you have something." She continued browsing the file. Killian had pages and pages of research, pictures, and clippings all about that stupid hat from the video. What was he up to?

"Miss. Swan, I'm sorry, but," Regina's voice caught. "There's nothing, no spell, no magic, nothing powerful enough to track where they went. I've been through everything. Twice."

"Are you sure," Emma said as she closed her eyes and and fought to hold back tears. "What if we try together. Could—"

"It wouldn't be enough. Unless you've bottled up substantially more power than you've been letting on—"

"Say that again," Emma said, cradling the phone against her shoulder. She read the notes he'd scrawled in the margins, flipping through the pages, trying to get the full picture.

"Emma, I wasn't being serious. Even combined we haven't near enough power to open this portal," Regina said, her voice annoyed.

"No," Emma said tracing her fingers over a faded picture of a dusty hat. "But I think I know where we can find exactly what we need."


Thanks again for sticking with the story! Reviews and feedback are always greatly appreciated! :)