Hi, guys! I wanted to post something on the 10th anniversary of our beloved show, but I didn't have anything super new, so I didn't. Today, I decided I might as well post something. I finished this chapter forever ago, just never got around to posting it.

This is a "what if" chapter. What if Killian didn't get on the Nautilus when him and Emma had their fight in season 6?

Return

He stood outside the front door, his hand hovering over the handle. The kitchen light was on and he could see her silhouette at the table. His heart raced. This was it. This is when he was going to fix what he'd shattered. Every part of him screamed to open the door, to run to her, to run to the one person he couldn't live without, the person who made him who he was.

As soon as he opened the door, she stiffened. Her back was to the door. She wore her clothes from earlier―white shirt, hair braided down her back, black pants. He noted everything about her, hoping to read her from behind, but he knew that was pointless. He needed to see her face.

Quietly, he slipped his shoes off and hung up his jacket. Should he walk toward her? Give her a minute and head upstairs? No, that was a dumb idea. Who knew what walking away would make her think?

Before he could do anything, she stood and moved to the sink, placing something in there. She braced her hands on the counter.

He needed to say something. Now.

"Emma―"

"Stop." Her voice was steady, firm. She turned around slowly. Despite her obvious efforts to conceal her pain, he could see it all. Her eyes were red, her cheeks slightly damp. He'd caused that. He'd hurt her.

"Just tell me one thing," she said, looking him in the eyes. He fought the urge to look away. "Did you burn the dreamcatcher?"

He shook his head.

She stared at him for a moment. She doesn't trust you. Tears threatened to fall. He'd worked so hard to earn her trust. Now, he'd lost it in one single action, in one stupid mistake. And he couldn't blame her.

He dropped his gaze. He'd blown it. This was it. This was when she was going to tell him to get out, to leave. He'd broken her, hurt her in the way he swore he never would.

"Are you cold?"

Was he cold? What did she mean?

"I have some extra cocoa. I kept it on the stove because I didn't know when you were going to get back and it started snowing."

She was too good. How could she even stand to look at him?

"If not, then I'll dump it out―"

"No, no. I'll have some." He finally looked at her. She had the pot in her hands. "I'll have some."

She held his gaze for a moment before grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling it with her favorite drink.

"We don't have anymore whip cream," she said when he approached her. "Sorry." Her hands, though very well concealed, shook when she handed him the mug. He stared at her left hand, the ring burning a hole in his pocket.

"It's all right. Thank you." He took the cup.

She nodded and stepped back, putting distance between them. "I, um, I'm going to get ready for bed. Could you put the pot away after you're done?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." Without another look at him, she stepped around him and ascended the stairs.

The moment she shut the bedroom door, she released a breath. He was here. He was safe. The later it got, the more worried she'd gotten. Had he gotten hurt? Had she pushed him away too far?

Of course she hadn't. He stayed. He always did and always would, that's what he told her almost everyday. She believed him.

Shakily, she pushed herself off the door and started getting ready for bed, being as quick as possible.

Four times, she dropped her hairbrush from her trembling hands. Giving up, she slammed it into the bathroom drawer and grabbed her pajamas from the dresser. She brushed past Killian's clothes, trying to ignore the flash of pain.

He hadn't trusted her, hadn't trusted them.

Stop.

She yanked her pajamas from the drawer and changed rapidly, debating whether or not she should pretend to be asleep when he walked in, though she knew that was stupid. Everyone always talked about never going to bed angry. No point in starting now.

So she sat on the edge of the bed. She didn't want to be restricted by the covers if she got angry. Even more angry than she was already.

After ten minutes of silence, Emma wondered if Killian had chosen to give her more space and went to sleep in the guest bedroom. That was something he would do, she knew, but she didn't want him to. She didn't want space. She wanted him to trust her. He couldn't do that if he was down the hall.

Before she could stand up and go find him, the door opened and he stepped in.

He gave her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I thought you may be asleep."

She stared at him, forcing herself not to break down. It had hurt so much to fight with him earlier, to give the ring back. All she had ever wanted was to love and be loved unconditionally. That's what Killian did and she'd felt like she was losing him to a stupid memory.

She nodded, no words coming to mind to say. What should she say? Should she say anything? Should she let him talk? What if he was staying silent to let her talk?

He stopped her from having to worry any farther by sitting next to her, keeping his distance. She hated that foot of space.

"I'm sorry, Emma." He looked at her, but she stared at the wall. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my discovery. I was…." He swallowed, glancing down. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "I was ashamed, but that was no excuse. You're my―" Again, he gulped. She thought he wanted to say fiancée. It cut her. "My true love."

Her hand twitched. She wanted to grab his and pull him to her side.

She felt his eyes flicker to her again. He was waiting for her to respond. She wanted to. He didn't deserve to suffer in silence any longer, but she couldn't find any words.

"If…if you wish for me to spend the night elsewhere, I will."

Her head snapped up. "No, no. That's not what I want at all."

His eyes implored her, but he didn't speak. He wouldn't push her. He never did. She knew that.

She blew out a breath. "I'm sorry, too. I should have been more understanding and let you explain. I know better than anyone what it's like to have a past you're ashamed of."

"Don't apologize, Emma." He shook his head. "No fault lies with you."

"Don't do that," she said. "Don't blame everything on yourself."

"Why not? It is my fault. If I hadn't tried to burn my memories, we wouldn't be in this position."

Her heart lurched. What position? What was he saying?

He must have seen the fear on her face because he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I love you. I won't ever keep anything from you again. I swear to you. You are the most important person in my life and I will never jeopardize us again."

She was losing the grip she had on her tears. They filled her eyes as she shifted closer to him. "I love you, too. I swear that I won't ever keep anything from you again."

He rested his forehead on hers, letting his eyes fall closed.

She relaxed. They were fine. They were okay.

She kissed him softly. She didn't have to fight her tears off anymore.

How did he ever get so lucky? Emma was the kindest, strongest, most incredible person he had ever met. He thanked his lucky stars every single day that she chose him to be with. He would never take her love, her trust, for granted ever again.

Emma leaned against him, her head tucked underneath his chin as they watched a movie she'd eagerly made him watch. Though they were both exhausted, neither seemed to want to sleep just yet.

"Do you like it?" she whispered.

He chuckled. "I can't be sure since you've asked me that question every ten minutes."

"I don't do it that often."

"No? Perhaps every five minutes."

She playfully smacked his chest. "Shut up."

"Of course. The movie's playing."

He could feel her eye roll.

As the movie continued, Emma's breathing slowed. She leaned more heavily against him as the minutes wore on. Killian pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.

He would never risk her for anything ever again. He'd lost too many people in too many different ways before. He wouldn't survive if he lost Emma, too.

Killian pulled the ring out of his pocket and smiled at it. Tomorrow, he'd propose again. He'd do it the right way. No secrets, no lies between them. Only their love. Then, they could finally start their future together in the most permanent way.

He grinned and put the ring away, kissing Emma's head again.

I hope you liked this chapter! I haven't reread it in a very long time, so I hope it was actually good!