6x01 spoilers and angst ahoy.

It happened just as she said it would.

She'd told him one night after the tremor in her hand caused her to break her favorite mug, confessing the secret she'd been hiding amidst tears and broken ceramic on the floor, and he'd been at a loss for words. He'd held her and soothed her, his mind blank and his gaze vacant as he let the implications of prophecy sink in, letting her cry into his shirt until he realized she was apologizing.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm taking away your happy ending."

She'd kept a secret from him - after all they'd been through - but she'd kept it to protect him.

He's had many happy endings taken from him in his life - Liam, Milah - but this one. While cupping her face with his hand and thumbing away her tears, this one he vowed to her that he would protect. They'd been tried and tested a hundred times over, and emerged victorious every time. He would not allow anyone to hurt her, to take her from him, to sap her strength and her will until she was stripped bare and left to rot.

Yet it happened just as she said it would.

They'd been separated, another trap, and he prayed to every god he could name as they ran to find Emma that they would make it in time.

They arrived in time to see her knocked flat, a sword stuck deep in her belly. Her eyes found his, her mouth wide with shock - he knew such wounds well, she likely felt nothing more than a dull ache as the heat of battle coursed through her veins.

Her eyes found his and all he found in return were a thousand apologies there.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I'm not your happy ending.

I'm sorry I hurt you.

I'm sorry I lied.

I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.

I'm sorry I couldn't stay.

I'm sorry you had to watch someone else you love die.

I'm so sorry, Killian.

And then she was falling and he moved before he could think, the cloaked and hooded figure vanishing in a cloud of red-purple smoke. Killian fell to his knees, holding her as he pulled the sword from her body.

Her shirt was black. It hid the dark stain of blood, but he could see the light from the street lamps glinting off it regardless.

She gripped his hand, the tremors returning tenfold, and he saw her mouth open but no sound came out - he knew what she wished to say, felt it in his bones and his blood and as sure as he knew his love was for her he did not wish to hear her say those dreaded words on her deathbed.

I love you.

He'd heard those words far too many times as someone he loved lay dying on his arms, far more than anyone ever should, and he'll be damned if it ever happens again before he's well and truly ready to leave these mortal realms.

It happened just as she said it would, but it didn't mean she had to die.

He brought his hand to her face, warm and flushed from battle, and bent over her, pouring every ounce of love he felt for her into this one kiss. He kissed her and thought of those he'd lost before - Liam, Milah - and cursed every god he could name for daring to take Emma away from him too. He thought of those he'd lost before and the woman he could never bear to lose again.

He kissed her, and he felt the magic ripple through him, pushing out and sending leaves scratching along the street.

Emma breathed deep through her nose and the tremors slowed until they finally, finally stopped.

"I made a vow, did I not?" he whispered hoarsely against her lips.

Her chuckle sounded weary. "Yeah, you did. I could have done without the knife in my gut, though."

He chuckled despite himself, his own body trembling as the shock wore off and the weight of what had happened started to sink in. "I'll endeavor to do better next time."

Emma's hand reached up, her nails scratching lightly through his scruff; he leaned into her touch, taking a shuddering breath while trying desperately not to focus on how near he'd come to losing her. "I've got a better idea," she said. "Let's not let there be a next time."

"Aye, love," Killian said. "I think I'd much rather prefer that."

And he sealed it with a kiss.