Sorry for the delay with this one. I had some minor technical issues that left me without my laptop for over a week. Hopefully you'll think it was worth the wait.

"I love you. I'm in love with. And I always have been."

The words echoed through Killian's mind on a loop, but they didn't seem to be sinking in. How could she possibly have felt the same way about him, as he did about her? How could he have missed that? How long had she…

His eyes snapped up to meet hers as he tried his best to order the words rushing through his brain into something that would make sense, only to find that the lounge was empty.

"Emma?"

The silence that greeted his words had his heart pounding harder in his chest, as he took off at a jog. "Emma?" he called out again, pushing open every door in his home to check for her. "Emma? Where are you?" When he finally reached her bedroom and found the door wide open, with the room looking exactly as it had when she'd first left it that morning, his heart sank.

Emma was gone.

He made his way slowly back down the stairs, kicking himself for not reacting sooner with every step he took, as he headed back to the lounge. He needed to call her and make everything right. But of course, even his bloody phone was missing at that moment.

Killian pulled the cushions and blankets off the sofa, tossing them over his shoulder in his haste to try and find the device, which had a nasty habit of slipping between the cushions while he was watching television. When he finally managed to get his fingers on his phone, he didn't hesitate to pull up Emma's details and hit call on her number.

It rang once before her voicemail kicked in, and Killian swore loudly at the sound of the familiar recorded message. "Hey, this is Emma. I can't take your call right now but if you leave me a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

"Emma, it's me. Call me when you get this. We really need to talk. You can't just… you can't just say what you did and then walk out on me, Ems. We… we need to talk. Call me. Please."

Killian hung up and then flopped down onto the floor, hanging his head between his knees.

Emma loved him. She had said that she was in love with him. And now she was gone. He hadn't even had a chance to say those words back to her, and she was already gone.

Killian wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been stunned into silence by her revelation, but it couldn't have been that long.

Could it?

He flipped his phone around and around in his hand, toying with the idea of calling her again. But the last thing he wanted to do was come across as pushy. Especially when Emma was already in defensive mode. She had a habit of running from everyone she loved when she was hurt, and he didn't want to push her further away from him.

Not when the idea of finally having her was in touching distance at last.

So he made a promise to himself not to call her again - for at least another hour.

The next hour that passed was one of the slowest of Killian's entire life. The television had seemed like an unwelcome companion after what had happened. So he'd thrown a few more cushions around in his search for the remote, before finally turning it off to sit on the floor in silence while he berated himself for not just grabbing her up and kissing the hell out of her like he knew he should have.

When his phone finally told him that an hour had passed since his call, he hit dial on Emma's number once more and lifted the device to his ear.

"Hey, this is Emma. I can't take your call right now, but if you leave me a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

"Ems, it's me. Again. I just… call me, okay? I'm worried about you."

He disconnected the line with a heavy sigh as he dropped his head back to rest on the frame of the sofa. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but Killian didn't feel as though he deserved comfort at that moment.

"Hey, this is Emma. I can't take your call right now, but if you leave me a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

"Emma, I don't even know if you're getting these messages right now. But if you are, can you at least just message me or something, to let me know that you're okay? It's almost midnight and I'm starting to worry."

Killian disconnected the call with more force than was truly necessary as he pushed his phone back into his pocket, and began pacing the length of his lounge. He'd poured himself a glass of whiskey to help take the edge off how he was feeling, but thoughts of something terrible happening to Emma stopped him from drinking it. He needed to remain alert and sober, no matter what happened.

The last thing he wanted to do was tell his best friend how he felt about her reeking of booze. Even he knew that wouldn't go down well at all.

"Hey, this is Emma. I can't take your call right now, but if you leave me a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

"I get it. I fucked up. I was just… I was stunned, Emma. I didn't know what to say. I… a part of me wondered if I was imagining things. I mean… It's not like you expect your best friend to confess her love to you on a daily basis." He laughed bitterly as he pivoted on his heels to pace the other way around his kitchen island. "Can you just… can you at least call me, Ems? Or text me. Yell at me. Hit me. Anything. Just… come home, Emma. Please. I miss you."

Killian ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he dropped his forearms down to rest over the counter. He was becoming restless, and a part of his brain was telling him to get into his car and drive. It didn't matter where he went, he just needed to be out there and looking for her, instead of stuck inside praying that she'd come back to him.

But the logical side of his mind knew that wasn't the best idea. It was late, and he lived in a wealthy neighborhood. If he was seen driving around the streets that late at night he'd probably be stopped by the police. And knowing his luck, while he was explaining himself, Emma would slip back home, pack her things and leave him for good.

"Hey, this is Emma. I can't take your call right now, but if you leave me a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

"Jesus, Emma it's two am. I checked your room. Everything's still here. Where the hell are you? I just need to know that you're okay. Can you at least give me that? Just let me know that you're okay. Please."

Killian wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep that evening, but the usual alarm he had set on his phone woke him with a start.

"Emma?" he called out, his voice rough from sleep and a lack of use. "Ems, are you here?"

When there was no reply he hauled himself to his feet, cringing at the way his muscles stretched themselves out of the awkward position he'd been sitting in, before he staggered up the stairs.

"Ems?" he tried again, even though he knew it was futile.

He pushed open the door to her room and all of his worst fears were confirmed when he found the space just as it had been left the day before.

Emma hadn't come home that evening.

"Shit," he cursed, taking his frustrations out on the door as he thumped his fists down onto it. Hard. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."

He knew that he should jump in the shower and get ready for work, but acting was the last thing on his mind that morning. So instead, Killian fished out his phone once more, with the intention of calling in sick.

His fingers had scrolled down to Emma's number and hit dial before he realized what he was doing. Killian raised the phone to his ear, praying that she would finally answer his call.

The click and familiar recording of her voicemail message was expected, but no less disappointing than it had been the day before.

"Ems. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I don't wanna tell your inbox how I feel about you. So please… just come home," he begged, before disconnecting the line.

Killian knew that he should call the studio next and make some bullshit excuse as to why he wouldn't be in that day. Telling them that his plan was to sit at home and hope that his best friend tried to sneak back in while she thought he was out, wouldn't go down well. But he couldn't face the idea of talking to anyone that wasn't Emma at that moment. So he took the easy way out and tapped out a message letting everyone know that he was sick, and would be back on set as soon as it had passed.

He didn't tell them that the sickness was eating a hole through his heart. One that he was sure would never pass if Emma didn't come back home to him.

"Ugh. You really fucked this one up, Killian," he mumbled to himself, as he slid down the wall just outside of her room. "You're such a fucking idiot."

His head fell back against the plaster with a dull thud, and Killian welcomed the spark of pain it brought with it. At least that was a more manageable kind of pain than the one building inside of his chest.

Fuck! What was he going to do without Emma in his life?

Killian couldn't remember a time where she hadn't been by his side. Everything before her had faded into insignificance. Hell, the only people still in his life that he'd known longer than Emma were related to him, and they all lived on the other side of the world.

In one night, he'd managed to ruin the only thing he had going for himself. The only relationship that had gotten him out of bed every morning.

"You're such a stupid fucking idiot," he told himself, as he brought his arm up to cover his eyes.

Killian hadn't cried in years. Not since that night that he'd caught Milah cheating on him. Not since the night that Emma had flown across the country to hold him in her arms, as he screamed and cried and screamed some more.

And now she was gone.

And that stung him more than any of the shit that he'd been through in the last three years.

Killian didn't dare risk taking a shower that morning. Instead, he made his way back downstairs to clean up the mess in his lounge and make himself some coffee. Then he parked himself on the sofa to watch some daytime television as he waited to see if Emma would return.

When the lunchtime news began, he pulled out his phone once more and dialed her number, but hung up when her voicemail clicked in. He was fed up of talking to her machine, and he would not tell her that he loved her too in a voicemail message. He was better than that.

Emma deserved better than that.

An hour later he pulled up the details for her family home and contemplated calling them to see if they had heard from her. But he didn't want to panic Emma's parents for no reason, and he certainly wasn't ready to explain to David why the man's only daughter wasn't talking to him.

Besides, he knew Emma well enough to know that she wouldn't have run home. Emma liked to run away from her problems and deal with them alone. The last thing she'd want would be her mother hovering around her while she was upset, as her father contemplated murder.

So he dismissed the Nolan family's details in favor of pulling up a blank page on his internet browser.

If Emma had run to deal with her feelings, then she would go somewhere she knew she could be alone. Somewhere close, because she wouldn't want to give up her place on the Spielberg piece, and she wouldn't want the hefty fine that came with buying her way out of her contract.

Given that she'd left all of her stuff at his house, Killian knew there was really only one place she could have run to.

When his blank browser page had loaded, he typed in four simple words and then hit search.

Emma woke with a start and for a moment, panic filled her body as she tried to recall where she was and why. It took her far longer than it should have to recognize the walls around her and even longer to recall why she was there. But the moment those memories came flooding back, she almost wished they hadn't.

She'd told Killian how she felt about him!

And he'd said absolutely nothing in return.

She thought his rejection would be bad. But his silence was even worse.

It was that moment when she knew that she'd ruined everything. Their friendship would never be the same again. So she'd left before Killian could throw her out.

She thought she'd cried herself out the night before. The guy sat next to her on the flight home had been incredibly concerned at just how long her tears had fallen for. But as she pushed herself up to sit against the headboard, Emma felt the tears begin to form once more, as her eyes landed on the picture of herself and Killian sat on her nightstand.

What the hell had she been thinking?

Her relationship with Killian was one of the best things she had in her life. And she'd ruined it. She'd ruined it all.

Emma had no idea how she'd ever be able to face him again.

"You're such an idiot," she whispered to herself.

When she'd revealed her feelings for him the night before, she'd been sure that nothing could possibly hurt the way that wanting someone you couldn't have hurt. But now she knew that she'd been wrong.

This hurt more. That empty space in her chest that Killian used to fill, hurt more than she ever thought it would. And at that moment, Emma wasn't sure how she was ever going to make it stop.

If only she could go back and tell herself to keep quiet. She'd take being friend-zoned for the rest of her life, over not having Killian by her side every single day.

God how she wished she could take it back!

The knock on her front door had her groaning in pain. The noise seemed to echo through the hollowness inside of her, making everything feel worse.

"Go away," she mumbled into her pillow, hoping that whoever was on the other side would take a hint when they realized how quiet the apartment was.

But the knocking started again, louder and harder than it had been before.

"Go away," she called out louder this time. At least if they couldn't take a hint, they would hopefully respect her wishes and leave.

But the knocking only appeared to grow faster, a constant pounding on the wooden door that seemed to echo through her head until she felt like she was at her breaking point.

Emma threw off the duvet covering her legs and stormed down the hallway towards her front door.

"What part of 'go away' don't you fucking understand?" she yelled, as she wrenched it open.

But when her eyes landed on the familiar, if-slightly-disheveled looking figure on the other side, all of the fight left her body as she whispered, "Killian? Wha… what are you doing here?"

Thanks for reading and reviewing.