A/N: Thank you all so much for the comments and reviews. Keep it up! We live for these. Dedicated to Bianca because it's her birthday. We love you! I'm sorry the update took so long. Life happened and we were not prepared. However, I believe this is a chapter everyone has been waiting a long time for, so without further adieu, I give you the NOT last chapter.

I don't know where to go from here now
Something still lingers though, it's weighing me down
I know the sun will shine again
Back and forth it seems we'll remain until the end

He's running to her, each step sending shrills of pain through him til he falls to his knees at her sobbing form. "Emma," he chokes out, reaching to brush her hair away from her concealed face.

"No." She shifts her weight towards the wall and he withdraws his hand, a confused pang coating his features. She's huddled on the ground, tremors controlling the rise and fall of her chest. Her face rests on the bend of her elbow, hands chained to the floor. He wants to swoop her in his arms and carry her away from this hell and promise to never let go, but there's a warning in her voice, fear sheathed in heartbreak. Killian furrows his brows, nails digging into the callous of his hand as he tries to conjure up anything that will bring her back to him.

"Emma," he repeats her name in fractures.

Her voice is barely audible, a squeak of cracked and bruised syllables rather than words, shaky breaths that combat the room for oxygen. He's never heard her this broken. This weak. "Please, just leave."

"Not without you." Killian raises his hook, ready to break her free, the sharp edge barely touching with the rusted links when he feels her shove him away.

"I said leave!" Though her voice is hoarse, there's a determination behind it that sends shock powering through his veins. Any joy he had of finally finding her is long gone, replaced with anguish and dread. Her body quivers with each stir - swollen, tear stained eyes on the verge of defeat.

"Bloody hell, Swan. We don't have time for this." Killian glances back at the cave entrance in sheer desperation.

"How could you do this to me!"

"Emma? What are you -"

"How could you do this to me!" Her arms lash out against him in anger, his necklace leaving imprints in her palms. "You said I was your happy ending! You said you'd never leave me! I believed you. Every word, every kiss, everything. I fell for all of it. But, you didn't mean any of it did you? I was just a game to you! How could you-" Her words are jumbled in sobs as her tears soak into him. The cuffs encasing her bite at his skin, cool metal chains drubbing his sides.

"Stop, Emma! Emma, stop." Killian pulls her into him, her arms thrashing in protest for a few more seconds before she gives in. "I'm here. I didn't leave. I'm right here."

He knows now that whatever Hades has done to her heart is much more than a physical crushing, but a psychological game that has brought her back to a place he's only seen the emotional scars of. Reopening and worsening wounds of a lost girl that created sky high walls.

"I loved you."

The past tense pierces through him, like a corroded knife - twisting and ripping at his insides. Tearing him apart as each letter leaves her cracked lips. "I know." It feels like there is cotton in his mouth, his voice lost as the stinging surfaces behind closed eyelids. He is suffocated, his mind a jumbled mess of things he cannot change and possibilities that never happened. Killian takes a deep breathe, his vision blurred as he stares down at her - weak, battered, bruised. A lost girl that no longer believes in her love for him, and even more so the love he has for her. But to tell her now would be foolish, to finally voice his feelings for her aloud is a desire that sears through his body like nothing he has ever felt before. "Can you just trust me, one last time, and let me take you home? Please?"

"How can I know this is real?"

"Trust me." She eyes him fearfully, holding her hands out in an act of submission and defeat rather than trust and love. But there's a question in her expression as if she might come to believe him. When he breaks the chains, her body collapses into him and his arms tighten around her, his hand and hook stroking the soft, dirty cotton of her sweater. Killian exhales a breath of relief, burying his head in her hair. It's matted and sticks to the stubble of his beard, but her arms encased around his neck have never brought more solace, her heartbeat slowing and syncing to his own. He bites his lower lip to keep the emotions swelling to the surface at bay. She's here and it's nothing like the reunion he envisioned, but she's here and she's alive.

"Killian?" He feels the vibration of her voice against him, small huff of his name on his skin, rather than hearing her broken tone.

"Aye, love?"

"Take me home." There is an ease in her voice as she speaks, a small flicker of confidence as her fingers twist into the hair at his neck. It's familiar. It's like being on solid ground after months of being cast out into an unruly sea. Almost on instinct, Killian tightens his hold on her - his hand finding refuge between her shoulder blades, his hook twisting into the white fabric at her waist. The muted scent of her, heady and intoxicating, sending him into a frenzy of emotions that he can no longer hold back.

"As you wish." The tremble in his voice only amplify the chinks that follow each syllable. A minute smile forming as he recalls the true meaning behind his words.

Emma shakes in his embrace, a quiet whimper evading her lips followed by a trickle of tears against his chest and it's then that he remembers where they are. Killian takes a deep breath, sniffling back his own tears as he makes a move to stand.

They wind back around the aperture to where her parents, Regina, and Hades are waiting. Mary Margaret's expression crumbles at the sight of her daughter, a whisper of "Emma" parting from her lips. He can feel the boulder of panic reforming in his chest when his eyes meet her family's, the worry plastered to their face like a second skin.

"Job well done Captain. I must say I'm surprised she came with you." Anger sets in the clench of Hook's jaw, Emma emitting a small whimper at the god's voice. Her arms cocooned tightly around his neck and the prospect of almost being home providing great motivation for the restraint he needs.

"Don't listen to him. Let's just get out of here." Regina's voice echoes off the walls, followed by a welcome swish of magic as a portal appears before them.

"I'll miss you, Princess. It's been a blast." The words are slow, pausing for emphasis that lets them slither off his tongue before picking up again, almost in a whispered tone that's threatening and sinister. Killian tries not to read into the satisfaction oozing from Hades's features at her broken form. (At the way she presses herself further into him, the hitch of her breath on his skin and the water droplets staining his shirt beneath tensely shut eyes.)

He clings tighter as they fall through the portal, emerging back in the now empty library. "It's okay, love. You're home. You're safe now." Emma nods in response, the tension leaving her muscles as she melts into him, her body jerks back with a cough, face contorting in pain. Hook shifts his weight, leaning on his forearms to get a better look at her face. There are scrapes on her forehead, bruises on her chest and a paleness to her skin that resembles too closely to Liam's before he succumbed to the dreamshade. It's like a punch to the gut, the realization dawning on him, that though he has found her and brought her home, she is nowhere near safe. She is broken and weak, lying too close to the line between living and dying. Emma's eyes fall closed as she struggles to take a breath and he moves quickly, getting up from their position on the floor and walking them to a table, placing her gently down into a chair as her parents rush over to her side. Both of them embrace her tightly, elation and a bit of concern coating their whispers of her name. Her father's hand comes to rest on the back of her head before they pull away, fussing over her like a child in need - overbearing and overwhelming, forcing her grip on his hand to tighten with a strength he's not entirely convinced she has to spare.

"Killian?" The whisper of his name draws his eyes back to hers, pulling his gaze from her parents as they converse over their next plan of action.

"Are you alright?" Hook crouches lower to the ground, keeping his voice gentle and timid - a contrast to her parents - bringing their joined hands up to her face to brush an errant strand of hair from her eyes. He dares not pull his hand away, the hold she has desperate and he loathes that he does not have two to comfort her with. A feeling he is sure will never quite disappear.

"I just want to go home." Her eyes are gleaming with deep dejection, dropping her head against his shoulder. "Please, Killian. Take me home."

He nods, keeping the grip on her hand as he offers his hook for her to balance herself as she stands. She's unsteady and her weight sinks into his arms, Charming rushing to her side to help. It's almost reluctantly that she lets go of his metal appendage to take her father's hand. Apprehension on full display in her hesitation, nervousness glimmering in her eyes as she moves her gaze between himself and David. She careens closer to Killian, staying bound to his side as they venture to the car with Mary Margaret following closely behind.

She's shuffled into the back row of seats, Killian pulling her into him once they settle in. Her muscles stiffen at the contact but she curls into him, head resting atop his chest. She's skittish, jumping at the slightest of noises: the humming of the radio, turning of knobs, and shutting of doors. To say she isn't herself would be an understatement. It feels as if he's witnessing the child version of her, guarded yet longing for someone to cling to, someone to trust. Terrified. Withdrawn.

It only worsens when Mary Margaret swings the loft door open, tension palpable for everyone as Emma stares blankly ahead. "Thank you." she mutters towards her parents after Killian leads her to the kitchen stool.

"I'll make some hot chocolate," her mother offers, hand caressing Emma's cheek with a sad smile before turning her attention to the cupboards.

David sets a glass of water on the tabletop and she accepts, downing two glasses before the warm mug is placed in front of her. Killian wraps his arm around her as she sips, his hand gently stroking the sleeve of her sweater. He wants to talk, to ask if she's feeling any better, instead of committing her every movement to memory, studying. Analyzing with careful delicacy, afraid to overwhelm and overstep these unknown boundaries.

"Mom!" Henry barrels through the loft in a blur of brown hair and a swaying jacket, the booming pitter-patter of shoes running on the wood flooring causing Emma to jump. The mug plummets to the ground in a loud crash - her eyes wide like a deer in the woods.

Everyone's heads snap to Emma and she ducks her head down, staring idily at the broken glass that lies at her feet. "I don't...I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, love. It was an accident." Killian bends down to sweep up the pieces in the inside curve of his hook.

"Mom, I missed you." Gone is the excitement, replaced by irresolution and unsubtle analysis. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Henry. I..." She runs her tongue across her upper lip, letting four beats of silence pass between them. "I missed you too."

Her parents are one thing, their relationship never finding solid ground before she was ripped away time after time. But ever since Killian had known Emma, Henry has always been the priority. There has never been a hesitation or a struggle for power. She loves Henry. Now, however, there is a question in her eyes, an insecurity sparking to life. It almost resembles fear. A fear that she shouldn't be here, doesn't belong, and isn't wanted. When Emma's eyes flicker to Killian's in a silent plea of uncertainty, he knows this is far from over.