4 weeks, 3 days ago...

David pushed his way the into the sheriff station, drenched, filthy, and barely able to hold his eyes open. A long, fruitless night spent in the woods had left him sore and in low spirits. Yet again, the bloodhounds had led them in circles the whole time, seemingly unable to pick up a clear trail, even at the site of kidnapping. It may have been too long by now, and last night's rain did not do them any favors. Still, despite his physical complaints, David would still be out there were it not for the strategy meeting planned for that afternoon. Maybe Emma and Regina had made progress figuring out a method to restore their magic; David prayed that was the case. A locator spell would be invaluable right about now.

He appeared to be the first one to have arrived at the station, apart from Killian and Emma. He could hear their quiet voices emanating from their shared office as he peeled off his drenched raincoat. Though he could not make out any words, the conversation sounded civil, at least; a welcome change from the tension on display for the past several days. Probably not due to a breakthrough, or they would have contacted the overnight search party. But perhaps they had some small reason for renewed optimism.

When David rounded the corner, he caught a glimpse of the inflamed row of sutures in Killian's side just before Emma smoothed a non-stick pad over the wound. His son-in-law was leaning against a desk, shirt open, with bandage supplies nearby. As Killian reached down to hold the dressing in place, he muttered something unintelligible to Emma, who was winding a linen strip around his torso. With an audible scoff, she tightened the bandage with perhaps a bit more force than was strictly necessary, her reply to him loud in the enclosed space.

"Don't be an idiot." She twisted the ends into a knot and jerked it tight. Killian glanced at David, his expression bleak with just a hint of bitterness. Then he returned his attention to his wife, who chose to ignore the footsteps behind her.

"Swan…"

"No. Just... No."

David cleared his throat and Emma finally turned, wearing an irritable scowl.

"Anything I can do?" offered her father. "A second opinion, maybe?"

"Nope," Emma growled. "We're good."

Gingerly buttoning his shirt, a sullen Killian allowed the matter to drop that that, though he obviously had much more to say on the subject. He looked just as beaten down and worn out as the rest of them, and David felt a stab of sympathy for what he must be putting himself through. The pirate kept his gaze downcast, concentrating on his task and asking,

"How did it go last night?"

David yearned to defy expectation, to give them something to be positive about. But all he could do was sigh and shake his head. "I'm really sorry, guys. No luck."

Killian released a quiet breath, but Emma just nodded. David moved closer with the intention of drawing her into a comforting embrace. Emma, however, turned away, heading toward the main bullpen. More people were beginning to file into the building, murmuring among themselves like mourners gathered for a funeral.

Into the subdued silence that followed Emma's departure, David gave voice to a groaning sigh as he tried to work the soreness from his neck and shoulders. He noted Killian struggling to finish the buttons, a sure sign of his equal exhaustion.

"We cannot thank you enough for your efforts in the search," said the deputy in a somber tone. "But no one reasonably expects you to continue working yourself to the bone-"

"I have to," David interrupted, and Killian looked up then. "I'm… I'm her grandpa…"

Killian simply stared, at a loss for words. A flash of devastation crossed his face when he noticed threatening tears in his father-in-law's eyes. For a moment, he appeared on the verge of saying something, but then he looked away, nodded once, and returned to his fidgeting. David cleared his throat and added,

"You'd be out there too, if you could. No one doubts that."

Killian would not meet his gaze, mumbling,

"Aye, I would."

David glanced out at the main office, where friends and family were gathered. Emma stood slightly apart from them all, hardly acknowledging anyone unless directly addressed. Even from a room away, David could see clear signs of stress in his daughter. Not that he would expect anything else, but it still hurt to see what a toll the terrible situation was taking.

"Are… you guys-"

"We're fine," Killian snapped, way too quickly, and David turned back with a grimace.

"No, what I meant was… when was the last time either of you slept?"

Killian shoved the final button - fifth from the top - through its hole. "I've managed some, courtesy of the painkillers. As for Emma…" His eyes darted heavenward, and David wasn't sure if he was trying to recall or simply seeking divine strength. "I couldn't even begin to tell you, mate."

96 hours. And counting.

Any advice that David could think of - empty words like "take care of your spouse" and "lean on each other for strength" - would only sound flippant and cold at present, so he was slightly relieved when Detective Jones approached and said,

"We're about ready to begin, when you are."

Killian pushed himself up off the tabletop, the grim set of his jaw more appropriate for facing a firing squad than his wife of several years. And despite David's personal history and trust in the concept, he could not help wondering if even True Love would be enough to salvage their marriage, should the unthinkable be the final outcome.

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AN: Apologies for the delay! This probably should have been combined with the last chapter, but I only just decided to include it. However, I should be back to twice weekly updates now *fingers crossed*