Killian fell to his knees as the ground dropped away beneath him. His hook dug into the grass as he groped for balance. He had tried with all his might to hang on to Moriah's tiny hand but he had lost hold of it at some point as they...traveled...through the stones.

Emma! Moriah! He sat up, looking around wildly. Emma lay to his right, sprawled in the grass and seemingly unconscious. Moriah was between them, curled into a little ball. Putting his hand to her cheek, he breathed a sigh of relief. She was breathing.

"Moriah, love! Emma!" he reached over and shook her shoulder.

She groaned and rolled over, blinking confusedly before sitting bolt upright.

"What happened?!"

"I don't know, love. We were in the stone circle, and now...my god..."

His voice trailed off as he stood and looked around, mouth hanging open.

"Killian...we're home," said Emma breathlessly, sounding as shellshocked as he was.

It was midnight according to the library clock. The street lamps gave off a sulfurous glow. They hadn't been back here in three years. Killian frowned.

"Emma, do you see-"

"Killian-"

They both spoke at the same time, voices full of disbelief. Killian had been about to point out that the grass in the park appeared to be freshly mown and the leaves raked into neat piles. Emma was staring up at the windows of the loft that had been David and Snow's apartment. The light was on.

Killian picked up Moriah, who was looking around sleepily. Wordlessly, they made their way across the street. Looking at each other, eyes wide, neither of them knew quite what to do. Emma shrugged and opened the door. The three of them climbed the stairs. Emma was wringing her hands nervously, standing in front of the familiar mint-green door.

"Go ahead, love," he whispered with an encouraging smile.

Emma smiled back anxiously. He could see the hope and the fear warring in her eyes. With a shaking hand, she knocked.

"Coming," came David's voice from the inside.

Emma doubled over as if punched in the gut. Killian put Moriah down and was about to wrap his arm around his wife when the door swung open.

"Hey Emma honey, what's the matter? Why are you here so late? Are you going into labor?"

David was dressed in sweats, holding a baby gently to his shoulder and looking exhausted. He was gazing at them quizzically, but in no way behaved as if he hadn't seen them in five years. Emma and Killian were unable to speak, both of them staring gobsmacked at David. Slowly, Emma straightened.

The transformation of David's face was a sight to see. His expression went from concerned to confused, then he looked Emma up and down and he went completely pale.

"Emma, what happened?" he whispered, obviously upset.

Emma stared at him in shock, clearly unsure how to answer.

"Is that Emma and Killian? Are they having the baby?"

Snow's voice called from inside the loft. She appeared behind David, looking worried. She looked Emma up and down as David had done, eyes popping when they reached her stomach.

Snow looked up at Emma, tears in her eyes, and fainted dead away.

000000000

An hour later, the situation was much clearer to everyone, not that it made a bit more sense.

"I just can't believe it," murmured David for the hundredth time, staring at his granddaughter with shining eyes. Moriah was sitting happily on Snow's lap, eating a chocolate chip cookie with the kind of delight that only a child who had never eaten one before could have.

"Three days ago, you were eight months pregnant," said Snow slowly, as if she were still trying to wrap her mind around it. "And now you have a five year old?"

Emma couldn't stop grinning through her tears. She was holding baby Neal, still a one year old infant. Like the others, he was just as she had seen him last. Her joy was transparent.

"Aye, it's been five years for us. Not easy ones, I'm afraid," said Killian, reaching for the rum. He inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of his favorite vintage. His own stock aboard the Jolly Roger had run dry a year into the voyage. Smacking his lips, he gestured toward David with the cup.

David obliged him with another splash and added one to his own mug. After their adventure with Yemaja, David had acquired a liking for rum almost on par with his own. It was one of the items on a short list that they had in common. Tipping their cups to each other, they took another hearty swallow.

Killian shook his head, trying to clear it. The shock was wearing off and the rum was fogging his wits. He had a momentary feeling that this was all some elaborate trick. The thought froze his heart in his chest and he forgot to breathe for a moment. They'd just spent the last five years in a hellish alternate world. What if this wasn't real either? It was certainly hard to believe that no time had passed in Storybrooke while they were away.

He caught Emma's eye and his breath returned in a rush. She was smiling tremulously at him. He knew she was battling her own fears, but that the sheer happiness of being home again was winning. Overcome with emotion, he leaned in and kissed her gently. As if this gave her permission to give in to her feelings, she nestled her face in his neck and sobbed her heart out.

Snow and David exchanged concerned looks over Moriah's head. This had been extremely unsettling for everyone. Moriah alone seemed unperturbed. She grabbed another cookie from the plate and hopped down from her grandmother's lap.

Coming around to her mother's knee, she tapped it gently.

"It's okay, Mommy. Here, have a cookie."

Emma laughed and sniffled, sitting up. She passed Neal back to Snow and picked up Moriah, nuzzling her hair.

"I need to see Henry," she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

"Regina won't be too thrilled if you just show up in the middle of the night, honey," said Snow.

"Everyone thinks I'm about to give birth, right? Someone should just call and tell her that it's time and Henry needs to come to the loft."

David shrugged and went to get the phone. "It's your funeral."

Snow ultimately did the talking. There was some confusion as to why they weren't at the hospital, but Snow smoothed it over saying Emma wanted to stay home for a bit longer and she wanted to see Henry before they went.

Emma was bouncing her knees nervously.

"I can't believe he's going to be the same age he was when we left. All these years, I thought he was growing up without me. It's like I'm getting a second chance," she said, nursing her third cup of cocoa.

Twenty minutes went by before they heard a car drive up. David went to the window.

"Regina's dropping him off, he's on his way up now."

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and then he was opening the door. Emma threw herself at him, gathering him up in a bone-crushing hug before he knew what was going on.

"Mom?"

He pulled away, trying to figure out what was going on. Quickly noticing his mom was no longer pregnant, he looked around in total confusion.

"You had the baby in the last twenty minutes? Where is she? What's going on?"

"Henry, we have a lot to tell you, mate. This," said Killian, hoisting Moriah on his hip, "is your sister, Moriah."

0000000

They finally climbed into bed in their little cottage a few hours later, which looked for all the world like they had never left it. The food in the fridge was still edible, for Neptune's sake! The feeling of strangeness was growing rather than lessening. It was a nagging suspicion that itched between Killian's shoulder blades.

Shaking it off, he lay atop his wife and kissed her thoroughly. They were exhausted, but the adrenaline was clearly still humming through them both. Moriah was asleep on the couch, the crib she'd last slept in now far too small for her.

Emma responded to his kiss with a loving smile, nibbling his lower lip and running her tongue teasingly against his.

"We're home, Killian..." she whispered.

She tasted of chocolate and cinnamon. He kissed his way down her neck, running his tongue over her collarbone, and then lower. Snagging one delicate nipple in his teeth, he rolled it back and forth until it stood at a sharp point and then flicked it with his tongue. Emma's hands wound into his hair. Her legs wrapped around his hips. She was gloriously naked and he could feel her arousal slick against his cock.

Moving his attention to her other nipple, he held himself just at her entrance. She moaned and lifted her hips to him, but he pulled away.

"Killian...please..."

He pulled back, propping himself up on his arms. He stared down at his wife, her beautiful face flushed with desire.

"I love you, Emma," he whispered as he buried himself inside her in one smooth motion.

She cried out and lifted her hips to meet his thrust. He leaned back further, wanting to watch her come apart. Unwinding her legs from his hips, he lifted them until they were against his chest, her ankles pressed against his neck. Reaching down with his hook, he rubbed it gently against her as he thrust with deep, even strokes.

She arched, eyes rolling back in her head. "Yessss...yes...Killian...!"

He bit her ankle gently as she flew apart, climaxing beneath him with a strangled cry. He was losing himself in his own spiraling pleasure when the world...shifted...suddenly. His vision flickered into blackness and then back again so fast he wasn't sure it had even happened. He froze, feeling as though he'd been doused in cold water.

"What is it, Killian? You're white as a sheet!"

Emma was laying back on the sheet gazing up at him with concern. She was so beautiful, his Swan.

"Must've had a bit too much rum, love. It's nothing."

He lay down beside her, spooning gently as she she drifted into sleep. Her even breathing should've soothed him, as it usually did. But the feeling of subtle...wrongness...returned. He lay awake for a long time staring at the ceiling.

Eventually he relaxed, but still sleep eluded him. Rising carefully so as not to wake Emma, he dressed and crept from the cottage. It was nearly dawn. Storybrooke was still and silent, but it no longer had that empty feeling it did when they were last here. Or did it? Killian strolled down the path to the waterfront. He made his way to the docks, thinking of the Jolly Roger. Could Emma and Moriah put her back to rights? It would be so good to sail her again.

Sitting down on the end of the wooden pier where they normally docked his ship, Killian gazed out over the water and felt calmer. Surely, this was a dream come true. Why was he questioning it? It was the best possible outcome to their years of pain and trial. They were back. No time had passed here, which was an unbelievable gift. Emma was so happy. Perhaps their companions had been returned to their own realms as well, which was a heartening idea.

He frowned. It really was the best case scenario, hands down. The situation was practically designed to make everyone, especially Emma, happy. Killian considered himself to be a difficult man to swindle, precisely because anything that came on a silver platter was highly suspicious, in his considered opinion. He had good instincts for bad deals, usually. He just wished he could turn off the alarm bells that were ringing in his head at the moment, and enjoy being home with his family.

Small feet pattered down the dock behind him.

"Moriah, what are you doing out of bed, love?" he murmured, tucking the little girl against his side. Her tiny bare feet dangled over the edge of the pier next to his own, making his boots appear huge by comparison. His heart swelled to bursting with love, as it always did when he looked at his little girl. Until he'd become a father, he'd never known how much it was possible to love a child. And it shamed him to think that a few moments ago, he'd been cynically wondering whether this place was another hideous trap. It was clearly the best possible world to raise his daughter. And maybe even give her a brother or sister one day. He firmly put his doubts about the situation out of his mind and resolved to forget them, for his family's sake.

"Daddy, wake up."

"I am awake," he smiled and kissed Moriah's soft dark hair, the same shade as his own.

"No, you're not."

A chill ran up his spine.

"You feel it too? That this is...off, somehow?"

"I'm not here, daddy. You need to come find us."

Killian stopped breathing. His daughter looked up at him with her wide sapphire eyes glinting in the sunrise and he knew, just knew, that this - all of this, Storybrooke - was not real.

"I'm not supposed to tell you anything, it's against the rules. But I had to help you, Daddy. I just had to."

Motion in the water caught his attention. A golden disk was suddenly floating a dozen yards in front of them. It glowed in the rosy dawn light. Oddly, it didn't move with the water, but sat heavy and immobile as a stone. Moriah pointed to it and nodded. He sighed resignedly, knowing without being told that he had to go to it.

"It had to be in the water, eh?"

They both stood. He stooped to remove his boots, but Moriah shook her head.

"You'll need them."

He dropped to his knees and hugged her tightly.

"This is the right thing to do, isn't it little one? I'm not making a huge mistake?"

"You have to go, before it disappears. If it disappears, you'll be stuck."

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad."

"It's not real. Mommy needs you."

Killian swallowed hard and let her go. He turned and dove into the water before he could change his mind and started swimming for the disk. He reached it and turned back to the dock.

Moriah was watching him intently. Suddenly she turned as if hearing something.

"Vandene is calling, I have to go. I'll see you soon, Daddy!"

And with that, she simply winked out of existence. Killian shook his head. What was he doing here? He thought momentarily of forgetting about this and going back to the cottage and climbing in bed with his wife. The disk beside him wavered suddenly as if it was about to sink back into the water. He leapt for it and it solidified again. Breathing a sigh of relief, he realized the design stamped into the surface was the same compass rose from the map. Tracing his daughter's name in the center of the rose, he was almost unsurprised when the disk separated neatly into four wedges and opened into a black void. None of the surrounding water slopped into the opening, instead it somehow slid around it but never through. Gathering a deep breath, he flung himself upward and dove head first through the opening.

As he fell through blackness, his only thoughts were of Emma, and Moriah, and the desperate hope that he'd just surfaced from a waking dream.