This will be the last chapter of Begin Again, but there is a sequel story posted that will continue this story :) More on that in the notes after the chapter!

Hope you guys like this one! :)

~cosette141


"Good morning!"

Emma descended the last stair, seeing Mary Margaret looking at her from the kitchen, making what looked like a banquet. French toast, eggs, bacon and a light aroma of chocolate and cinnamon met her at once. David was securing his gun holster, dressed for sheriffing. He looked up, giving Emma a smile of his own.

Henry was already seated at the island, watching the food cook eagerly. He looked well-rested, and Emma felt relief that he at least was dealing with things well. She would never understand how her son could be so unbelievably brave.

"Sleep well?" asked Mary Margaret with a smile as bright as the daylight outside. Emma could already see a difference in both hers and David's faces and demeanors; the threat of Cora having eased seemed to lift a huge weight off their shoulders. They both seemed to have slept wonderfully.

Emma's honest answer to her mother's question was no, as she'd barely gotten more than an hour of straight sleep, none of it restful. Every slip into sleep was another vivid replay of Gold attacking her in the apartment, Neal leaving her again, or… or other people leaving her.

Seems her subconscious has yet to adopt the trust her conscious self had tentatively decided to.

The residual panic lingered, and Emma took a tired breath.

"I am not going anywhere."

"I will see you tomorrow."

The sudden urge to see him was overwhelming.

But Emma forced a smile, pulling out a chair and said, "Yeah, great."

Mary Margaret and David didn't sense the lie, and Mary Margaret smiled wider.

"How'd you sleep?" Emma asked Henry, ruffling his hair a little.

"Good," he said, and Emma smiled at the honesty in his answer.

"And before you offer to," said David, leaning against the counter with his coffee in hand, "you are forbidden from coming to work today. I've got it."

Emma felt a true smile touch her lips at the gesture. "Thanks."

"Though I'm expecting the crime rate to drop significantly," said David with a grin. "The two biggest problems in the city have been taken care of."

That certainly was true.

Mary Margaret turned off the stove, and filled a plate of food, placing it in front of Henry, who grabbed it with a "Thanks!" and immediately took it to the TV, where cartoons were already playing.

Emma smiled, seeing him happy.

A plate was placed in front of her, and Emma turned, realizing just how hungry she was. "What's with all this?" she asked, picking up a fork. "Cereal would have been fine."

After pouring Emma some hot cocoa, with cinnamon, and placing it by her plate, Mary Margaret smiled, just looking at her. "With you and Henry home safe and sound, and with the town crisis over with," said Mary Margaret, "it seemed like a nice breakfast was in order."

Emma took a sip of the hot chocolate and smiled at the familiar comfort it always brought. The food was amazing, though it could have been her hunger; Emma realized she hadn't eaten at all yesterday.

As Emma took another bite, Mary Margaret shot a quick look to David, who was pulling on his jacket, both him and Henry out of earshot, and she leaned over the counter. She lowered her voice, something curious jumped in her eyes. "So… Killian," she said, brow raising around the name.

Emma almost choked on her hot cocoa.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the hot beverage.

She felt herself tense, vulnerability rushing through her.

But at the thought of him, Emma felt a shy smile touch her lips involuntarily, and at it, Mary Margaret's grin grew.

But the thought of him also brought back the panic from the nightmares and her smile faded.

Emma put her fork down, suddenly no longer able to quell the desire, the need to see him. The need to make sure he hasn't left, that he hasn't taken the night to realize that she actually wasn't worth staying for—

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

Hesitantly looking at Mary Margaret, she mumbled, "Would you be able to watch Henry today?"

Mary Margaret's grin only grew wider.

And Emma's cheeks only got hotter.

"Go," she said with that grin, and Emma was grateful she didn't press.

Emma smiled back, getting up and grabbing her own jacket.

Telling Henry and David she'd be back, though Henry barely looked up from the TV, Emma grabbed the door and opened it—

—and stumbled to a surprised stop.

Because Hook—Killian—was standing just beyond the door, and Emma caught an expression on his face that looked almost nervous, his fist raised as if he had just been about to knock.

"Hook," she breathed, her shock morphing into a smile.

"Swan," he said just as softly, matching her smile. "Good morning," he said with a little glint in his eye, something excited.

And Emma, for a moment, couldn't speak.

He came back.

He came back.

No one ever comes back.

Relief like none other was washing through her.

She couldn't help herself.

She grabbed him in a hug.

He made a little oof, catching her, and she felt the chuckle reverberate in his chest. His arms wrapped around her, and Emma felt herself sigh something in relief, his embrace chasing away the residual anxiety from the nightmares. "Morning," she whispered into his chest.

"Last night was the longest of my life, love," he whispered into her hair, and she could feel his smile.

That made two of them.

She couldn't quite process it.

He was still here.

A light clearing throat from behind them made them break apart, and Emma suddenly remembered Mary Margaret was still in the kitchen, in clear view of them. Not to mention David, whose tension wafted over like a storm cloud. More heat rushing to her cheeks, Emma bit her lip.

But Mary Margaret was clearly trying to keep most of her smile to herself, despite the clear torn expression on her husband's face, and she approached them, David a little stiffer. "Hook," said Mary Margaret in greeting.

"Milady," he said, dipping his head a little. Mary Margaret's brows raised at the respect and politeness, such a strong contrast from the way Killian used to speak to them.

"Hook," said David at her other side, his face attempting a smile, but it was more a grimace than anything. He was trying, and Emma would take it.

"Captain!"

All four of them turned at Henry's exclamation. He'd run from the TV still playing cartoons to them, looking at Killian with utter excitement. "You're really staying in Storybrooke now?!" he asked breathlessly, looking from Killian to Emma and back.

Killian smiled, such a fondness in his eyes, looking nothing but touched that the idea gave Henry so much joy. "Aye," he said, his eyes on Emma, making something flit in her chest.

"Awesome!" Henry grinned wider, his excitement making Killian's smile mirror his. "Can we go sailing again?" he asked eagerly. "Or—or can you teach me to swordfight? Maybe we can—"

"Slow down, kid," said Emma with a little laugh, seeing the slightly overwhelmed look on Killian's face. "I think we'll have plenty of time for all of that," she said softly, looking at Killian, who smiled at her. "It's been a long couple of days," she said quieter, her smile faltering a little with it. Killian was the only one who seemed to catch the emotion packed behind her words, and she saw his brows dip in concern.

"I thought I was going to teach Henry to swordfight," muttered David, looking at Mary Margaret, who whispered a, "Not now." Her phone suddenly went off on the kitchen island, and she walked away to pick up the call.

David stepped up, not-so-subtely puffing his chest and crossing his arms, staring firmly at Killian. "So, Hook," he said, lacking the glare he'd worn yesterday in Killian's presence, but looking like it was taking about everything in him not to. "You'll be sticking around town, then?"

Killian's eyes slowly shifted from Emma's to David's, and Emma watched the slightest hesitance in his eyes. But it wasn't because he was intimidated by David the Prince…

He was suddenly intimidated by David the father.

And the fact that he seemed to care now how David saw him made a warmth settle into Emma's chest, somewhere that used to only be cold and hollow.

"Aye," said Killian slowly. "I am."

"Well…" David drew out, looking from Emma to Killian, sighing something weary. But he sighed, dropping his crossed arms to slip them into his pockets instead, trading an intimidating posture for something more casual, and he said, "Welcome to Storybrooke, then."

Emma felt like she and Killian relaxed as one, and she tried to hide the smile at David's attempt at being friendly.

Mary Margaret approached them again, phone in hand, a furrow in her brow. "That was Leroy," she said to them. "Apparently Regina called for a town meeting at City Hall."

Henry's exuberance toward Killian fell from his face, something attentive and a different sort of eagerness trading places with it. "My mom?" he said hollowly.

"A good meeting?" asked Emma, her own brows kneading. Because she certainly couldn't take another crisis.

With a sigh, Mary Margaret shrugged. "I guess we're about to find out."

They all left the apartment, heading down the stairs, Emma and Killian behind her parents.

And Emma felt Killian's fingers slide in-between hers, and she smiled, the last of the panic from her dreams washing away like rain.


Killian had not lied to Emma—last night had been long.

Sleep had been hard to come by; flashes of seeing Emma on the floor of that apartment, lying at the Crocodile's mercy blended into an age-old nightmare of being tied to his own mast in utter helplessness…

He hadn't been riddled with dreams like that since the first few years after Milah's death.

Needless to say, he needed to see Emma the moment dawn broke, to make sure his nightmares were just that; dreams.

And the fact that the moment she'd seen him, she looked just as excited, just as relieved, to see him as he was her…

It was something he bloody cherished.

City Hall was filled with nearly the whole town by the time Emma, Killian and Henry, David and Mary Margaret walked inside, standing at the back. As they entered, a few of the people noticed them—and noticed him.

At the sight of him, he saw several of them tense, some glare.

Killian felt himself tense.

The eyes lingered on Killian apprehensively, and Hook felt Emma tense a little as she noticed the reaction to him as well. For a moment, he braced himself for her to drop his hand, but instead, her fingers tightened around his, and she straightened a little, pulling him closer to her side.

And in that moment, Killian nearly forgot how to breathe.

She kept choosing him.

Over and over and over.

He looked at her then, the other people forgotten, seeing her already looking at him, such an easy smile at her lips. Something free and so unguarded. It wasn't the woman he'd met in the Enchanted Forest. But she hasn't changed; this was her.

Beneath her walls and her fear and her pain.

The pure innocence that lay underneath her armor was more beautiful than anything he's ever laid eyes on.

And he would protect it, her, for as long as he lived.

A cleared throat cut through the murmur of the crowd, belonging to Regina, who was standing at the front of the room, seeming uncomfortable for once. "Thank you all for… coming," she said, as if the words were a little forced. Silence fell, however, curiosity winning everyone over. "I'm sure by now you're all aware of what transpired between the Charmings and my… mother," she said a little awkwardly. "The return of my mother's heart…" Her voice seemed to catch a little, gracing her face with the hint of a pure smile. "She isn't the same woman you all feared." she added, softer.

At her words, a plume of smoke appeared at her side, revealing Cora beside her.

The reaction from the people was instant; flinches, gasps, and fear grasped the room in a grip that was palpable.

Killian felt Emma's fingers tighten around his reflexively, just as he did hers.

Cora winced at the reaction, looking genuinely upset, guilty by it.

Killian understood the feeling.

"It's okay," said Regina, looking just as unsettled by the reaction. "We're here to tell you all that… we don't want to instill fear anymore." A murmur of disbelief. Regina sighed, taking a breath as if to steady herself. "And… I'm here to do something I never thought I would do." She gave another sigh. "As of this moment," she said heavily, "I am abdicating the throne, both here in Storybrooke… and in the Enchanted Forest."

The sheer disbelief rushed through the crowd like a gust of wind, and Killian felt his brows shoot up with surprise, meeting Emma's identical shock.

"I would like to give this power back to its… rightful heir," she said, just as heavily, her eyes settling on Mary Margaret, whose face was whiter than her namesake. "Snow White." finished Regina.

Mary Margaret blinked in utter shock, matching nearly everyone else in the room, as well as David, standing frozen at her side.

"You—you what?" breathed Mary Margaret.

Regina approached her then, walking across the room, stopping in front of her, her eyes shifting to Henry, who was standing at Mary Margaret's other side, his jaw hanging open.

"I just want my family," said Regina softly, eyes finding Henry. "Henry, and my mother…" Looking at Mary Margaret, she said, "I thought… power could fill the void inside me. But… love did." And swallowing hard, shutting her eyes before opening them to say, "After talking with my mother, I… I understand that she put you in a… manipulated position. And… I don't want to be angry anymore. At anyone." The room was pin-silent. And with an even heavier breath, Regina said, "I… absolve you, Snow."

Mary Margaret was a statue.

Until Henry broke the spell on the room, and he grabbed Regina in a tight hug. "I knew there was good in you," he whispered, smiling, a tear falling down his cheek.

Regina let out a little gasp at his affection, a tear falling down her own cheek as she bent to hug him back, shutting her eyes. "Henry," she whispered. "You forgive me?"

"Of course I do," he said through his smile. "You're my mom."

Regina hugged him tighter, smiling even wider.

Regina pulled back, and looked toward Cora, who had hesitantly approached, watching them with tears in her own eyes.

Regina stood, hand on Henry's shoulder, swallowing emotions before she said, "Henry… this is my mother. Your… grandmother," she said with a smile. "Mother, this is… my son," she whispered. "This is Henry."

Cora approached Henry hesitantly, smiling something genuine. "Henry," she said gently.

Henry looked from Emma, Mary Margaret, and Regina, to Cora. Then he smiled and said, "Hi, Grandma."

A little gasp escaped Cora at the word, and before she could respond, Henry hugged her. She froze with surprise for a moment before slowly reciprocating, however tentatively.

Mary Margaret looked from Regina, Cora and Henry, to the rest of the room. People she was just seeming to realize were finally hers to lead.

Clearing her throat a little, she stood a little straighter. "Well," she said, exchanging a look with David and Emma, she said, "I'll gladly take my place as your Queen. And… mayor," she added, a little awkwardly.

Smiles erupted around the room, and Mary Margaret returned them with her own, and she and David walked to the front of the room.

"I've always been here for you all," said Mary Margaret, "but to do so unopposed…" Color touched her cheeks. "I'm honored." Exchanging a look with David, she said, "David and I will lead you all in this new era of peace, and of harmony," she said with a grin. "The realms have been freed of the Darkness, in every context of the word." she went on. "It's time for us all to start fresh."

"So it's really true?" came a voice from the crowd—one of the Dwarves. "Gold is really dead?"

Killian felt Emma flinch at the mention.

His fingers tightened around hers.

"He is," confirmed David. "And it's…" He hesitated, like his voice caught on the words, but he said anyway, "And it's thanks to… Hook."

Eyes suddenly turned to Killian, skepticism in many faces.

"Gold… tried to kill Emma," said David with difficulty, his own expression faltering, and Emma shifted uncomfortably at Killian's side. "Hook saved her, and in turn… all of us."

Killian felt a discomfort, an unfamiliarity, rise with the spotlight, but his own shock competed with it.

Because David, the man who had wanted to kill him only yesterday, was defending him, in front of the entire town.

Emma smiled at Killian, looking just as touched by her father's gesture.

"There's something else, too," said Mary Margaret. "We've kept it under wraps due to… previous events," she said awkwardly, "but our new friend Anton has been harvesting magic beans in Storybrooke." A few gasps echoed around the room. "The first two beans will be ready any day now. Those who want to return to the Enchanted Forest and rebuild your homes will be welcome to, and those who want to stay here are just as welcome."

Smiles and exclamations of joy erupted through the people, given hope for the first time in decades.

"The Curse is broken," said Mary Margaret, "and it's time for everyone to get their happy ending. It's all thanks to Emma, our Savior, and our princess," she said, turning her gaze to Emma, who suddenly looked uncomfortable with the attention. A little color touched her cheeks, and Killian felt her subtly shift a little closer to him.

"You did it!" exclaimed Henry with a wide grin toward Emma. "You brought back the happy endings!"

"Long live Queen Snow!" bellowed Leroy, standing and clapping.

The rest of the crowd rose with the same words, and Mary Margaret looked utterly over the moon, David just as happy at her side.

After the meeting, the town adjourned to Granny's, celebrating Mary Margaret and David and the prospect of returning home until the daylight began to fade. Regina and Cora left with Henry, who was going to stay the night with them and for the three of them to spend time together. Yet Regina had lingered before they left, gaze hesitantly on Emma's, as if an unspoken ask of permission.

One that Emma met with a true smile, that Regina genuinely returned.

Most of the night had Emma's parents mingling with the town, making plans, discussing their future in the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke, all the things they wanted to do. They didn't, however, seem to notice that Emma was not exactly all right.

Emma had remained at his side, fingers interlocked with his all day long. Several of the townsfolk approached her to thank her for her part in their newfound peace, something she didn't seem to know what to do with. She was quiet most of the afternoon, and every sudden noise near her—the clang of silverware or something of the sort—made her flinch a little, startling her. And Killian felt his chest twist, flashing back to when she'd been crumpled on the floor of that apartment at the demon's mercy, not even forty-eight hours ago.

Killian has had his fair share of traumatic events—his and Liam's abandonment, losing his hand and Milah—and he'd had his own trouble the weeks, and even months that followed them. It surprised him in a horribly sad way, just how little Emma's parents seemed to think of what she'd just been through.

So when Emma flinched at a sound for a third time, Killian leaned over her shoulder, saying softly, "May I take you somewhere?" He attempted a smile, but his concern for her couldn't take the slight crease out of his brows.

Emma looked at him, like she was torn from thoughts that Killian didn't have to guess were about, and she smiled, giving him a little nod.

And he returned her smile, gently pulling her with him, away from the crowd. They passed Mary Margaret and David on their way out, tearing their attention from their conversation with a few of the townsfolk. "Emma?" said Mary Margaret, like she'd forgotten she was here. "You're leaving?"

"Leaving… to go somewhere together?" said David in a tight voice. "Alone? Just the two of you?"

Mary Margaret slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand, just smiling at Emma who had cut David off with a "Byee," and left with Killian.

David looked at Mary Margaret with an expression that looked pained. "Alone?" he repeated to her.

"She's twenty-eight, David," muttered Mary Margaret half-heartedly.

"But with Hook?" His voice rose two octaves. At her look, he said, "I know, he saved her, twice, I know, but…" His face only grew more pained. "Did it have to be a pirate?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "I was a bandit," she said dully. At his face— "What?"


The sun was just beginning to set by the time Killian had led her to his destination. The entire walk there, Emma had only asked, "Where are we going?" once, just to get his response of, "You'll see," which made her smile something genuine.

It was the first time they were alone since last night and it wasn't lost on either of them. Their hands were still intertwined as they'd been all day, but they gravitated even closer to each other now, their arms brushing, and the same magnetism that had grown between them only seemed to intensify.

It was when they reached the docks that Emma said, "Your ship?" she asked.

"There's something I'd like you to see." he said. At her confusion, with a little wink to her, he said, "Trust me, Emma."

Those words had set her immediately on edge when he'd said them on the Beanstalk, and now made her smile, and seem to do just that.

His ship itself still wasn't visible, thanks to Cora's cloaking spell, but Killian smoothly found his gangplank and led her in behind him. The sun was setting now, the orange rays bathing the ship in a glow that could only be called incandescent. As Killian led her on board, he saw her eyes widen at the sight of it, and it made an involuntary smile tilt his lips. Emma had been in so much pain when she'd been here last that she had her eyes shut for most of the time Killian had carried her from his cabin to the hospital. She was seeing the ship for the first time, and Killian was touched at her genuine reaction, the wonder in her eyes that nearly matched Henry's when he'd first been aboard. Killian sure knew where the lad got it from.

Emma's eyes held a curiosity and an awe that displayed every bit of the innocent heart of hers that she'd hidden away for so long. And it stunned Killian for a moment, just how childlike, how sweet her true spirit was. And how heartbreaking it was that she had stifled it for so long, had been so afraid to be who she truly was. Her true spirit was like a breath of fresh air, and it stirred something in him, something so similar, something he hasn't felt for centuries. For so long, his life had just been bitterness and resentment.

Emma had brought him back to life in more ways than one, and they both seemed to be finding their ways back to themselves, together.

Killian whispered a "Wait here," over her shoulder, and gently pulled his fingers from hers. It seemed to snap her out of the trance, and she looked at him, but he just smiled reassuringly, and went off to adjusting the ropes, preparing the ship. He refused Emma's help when she offered, and he could have sworn he heard her mutter something half-heartedly, something sounding like gentleman.

But soon, he'd set sail, sailing away from the coast a ways, dropping anchor when land was a shadow in the distance. He found Emma portside, looking out over the waves. He approached her, seeing an ease in her face, the same he always felt himself as he'd watch the water. It was his own sense of comfort, something he's relied on more times than he could count, one of the few things that has felt like home.

But looking at her now brought the same feeling, this sort of anchor that he's never felt before. He simply watched her for a moment, the breeze shifting the hair over her shoulder, and hell he's never seen anyone more beautiful.

He approached her, stepping up to her side, watching the waves himself. She smiled at his nearness, her smile so easy. And he matched it, taking her hand at the same time she reached for his, and he whispered, "Turn around, love."

She did, seeing him first, but when he gestured over his shoulder, he watched her eyes take in the sight with a little gasp.

On the other side of the ship, the sun was sitting at the horizon where the water met the sky, and the brilliance of the sunset reflected off the waves, cascading toward the ship. The water sparkled with the light in a way that didn't even look real.

"It's beautiful," said Emma, eyes lighting just as bright as the sun.

"Aye," he agreed softly, eyes on her.

Emma walked to the other side of the ship, pulling him with her, making him laugh a little at her insistence to get a better look. Her free hand rested on the rail when she reached it, absolute awe in her eyes. They watched the waves in the sunlight for a moment, just basking in the quiet moment.

"I always find the sea to bring a sense of calm," he said quietly. "Especially so in my most… trying times."

She smiled, letting out a breath that seemed like a breeze of personified relief, like she more than agreed. But she caught what his words meant, his intention for bringing her here, and she smiled a little more, something coloring her cheeks, as if she was touched he noticed.

And he only smiled more, because his plan seemed to have worked, for the tension she had carried all day had vanished.

"Thank you, Killian." she said softly.

The sound of his name sent a skip in his heart, as it has every time she's used it. He had no idea how much he'd missed being called his given name, and would never stop being touched at the fact that she saw him.

With a smile, Killian gently guided her to sit beside him on the ledge behind them, one that was weathered from centuries of musing over a million sleepless nights. He wrapped his hooked arm around her, pulling her closer, their hands still clasped over his thigh. And he felt shift even closer, laying her head to rest on his shoulder. His eyes shut at the feeling, at how right it felt. They watched the sun dip lower and lower, casting orange rays over them both until it disappeared below the horizon. They were quiet, simply enjoying each other's company, and Killian knew with a certainty that he could stay here with her forever.

The moon replaced the sun as they watched, shining brightly with the light of a million stars in the sky above them.

His eyes fell to Emma, her eyes on the stars like she'd never seen them before, and he kissed her hair. "Make a wish, love."

But she smiled at his kiss, saying softly, "You're already here."

The warmth that touched his chest was like none other, and he felt frozen for a moment with her words, touched beyond words.

"I've never seen stars like this before," said Emma softly. "Or, I guess I never… looked."

He smiled, brushing his fingers over her hair, saying, "They're almost as beautiful as you."

And it was her turn to blush, a little color touching her cheeks in the moonlight, like she wasn't used to hearing such words.

Something he was going to have to remedy.

"As a young sailor…" he said softly, the words eased out of him, words he's never said aloud, not even to Milah. "It was my dream to sail every sea, walk the lands of every realm, chart the stars of every sky." With a breath, his voice softened, brows kneaded a little. It's been centuries since he'd dreamed. After so long chasing his revenge, fury and pain had erased desire. He'd been numb, been empty nearly his entire life.

But his eyes fell to Emma, feeling his brows ease and his lips tilt, feeling those dreams rekindle, as well as new ones, all with her at his side.

Emma's fingers played with his a little as she watched the stars, musing, "I always wanted to see the world, too."

He brushed his thumb over her hand, smiling at the words as he said, "When the beans are ready… I'd like to see it with you, love."

Emma lifted her head off his shoulder, looking at him. "See the world?" she echoed softly.

"Aye," he said with a wider grin. "There are beautiful lands I've seen and many I've only heard of."

A glint of excitement jumped into her eyes, brighter than the stars.

"The lad is welcome to join, if he'd like, of course," said Killian, honesty in the words that seemed to touch Emma even more.

"Are you kidding? He'll love it," she said with a grin of her own.

His brow raised a little, at what sounded like her acceptance. "You'd like that?" he breathed.

As an answer, Emma kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking him by surprise with her passion. He met her emotion, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he smiled through the kiss, never having felt anything like her before.

They broke the kiss after a moment, just looking at each other, mirroring their joy, and Emma said, "I'd love that." And she settled herself back on his shoulder, even closer to him than she was before, humming a little with either relief or happiness, and it sent a rush of feeling down Killian's spine.

"These lands you've been to," said Emma. "Tell me about them."

And, Killian's eyes on the stars, he softly told her of some of his travels, adventures that made Emma's smile grow, and Killian felt that age-old sense of freedom at his old wanderlust that had apparently never left him. And Emma was suddenly speaking some of her own, of a few of the places she'd run away to, places she'd coined Boston and California, things she's seen, things she's always wanted to do.

At one point, she'd told him of a heist of hers, and at his interest had her smiling. At his raised brow, she lifted the fingers of her free hand, wearing one of his rings on her thumb. He hadn't felt her take a bloody thing. She laughed at his surprise, and it had skipped his heart, hearing it.

Her laugh sounded like freedom.

Seconds later, she was lifting his own hand to him, the ring back on his finger as if it had never moved, her sleight-of-hand a magic all on its own. And she was smiling, something part amusement and part mischief and he couldn't help himself, telling her she'd make a fine pirate.

She didn't disagree.

And he found himself falling for her, more and more and more.

The more she told him, the more he wanted to know.

Bloody gods, he wanted to know everything about her.

He was softly telling her of his time on one of the many seas he'd traversed when he felt her weight deepen into him a little, and he looked down, seeing her eyes shut, feeling her breathe gently.

She was asleep.

He felt his breath catch.

It would never, ever, cease to amaze him that he's managed to gain her trust to such an extent.

He watched her sleep, memorizing the moment until he felt his own tiredness.

And, gently, he gathered her in his arms, careful not to wake her. She didn't, and he carried her gently to his cabin, laying her in his bed. The last time he'd done so had been when she was hurt. This time, however, there was a little tilt to her lips, an ease to her sleep.

An ease he somehow managed to elicit.

It made him smile.

He grabbed a few spare blankets, laying them out on the floor beside her. The desire to hold her was blinding, but it was still Emma, and he wouldn't dream of pushing her comfort zone. Just being near her was enough for him.


Emma's eyes fluttered open, seeing the outline of Killian in the moonlight, pulling a blanket over her. It took her a moment to recognize his cabin.

She blinked sleepily, realizing that he had laid her on his bed.

He froze a little when he realized he'd woken her, and she saw his soft, hesitant smile. He began to straighten, and Emma saw a blanket laid on the floor beside the bed, as if for him. He'd already taken off his coat, and Emma realized he'd also taken off his hook.

Emma's hand caught his wrist before he could move away, and she kneaded her brows. "What are you doing?" she mumbled sleepily.

He smiled, moving a strand of her hair over her face. He kissed her cheek. "You fell asleep," he said, like he found it cute.

Emma blinked. The last thing she remembered was listening to him, trying to keep her eyes open, because she didn't want to miss a word, every one making her fall for him more.

But it appeared she had fallen asleep.

Which made her pause.

She slept.

No nightmares.

Just… peace.

And she had a good feeling why.

But something unsure jumped into his eyes, and he swallowed before saying, "I can take you home, if you'd rather I—"

"I meant, what are you doing with that," she mumbled instead, gesturing to the blanket on the floor.

He hesitated a little, saying, "I…"

But she shifted over, tugging a little on his wrist toward her, her eyes on his, permission shining through.

And he stared at her, like he didn't understand.

Not what he read in her eyes, but the fact that he was reading it.

"Are… are you sure?" he asked, voice even more hesitant, but backed with a hope.

Emma answered with another tug on his wrist, freeing a surprised, touched chuckle from Killian's chest.

And slowly, so tentatively, Killian got into bed beside her.

His warmth hit her immediately, his scent enveloping her even more, but none of it was a match for the sheer safeness his presence instilled in her, wrapping her in it like a blanket all on its own.

She could feel him unsure, like he didn't want to push her, and she smiled at it. He understood her, he knew her, and he respected her fears.

Fears that Emma no longer wanted to cower from.

Not with him.

So she shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around him, as close as she could get. She shut her eyes, such a strong feeling of right washing through her as she rested her head over his chest.

And he stilled for a moment with surprise, obviously not expecting her to be so trusting, not like this. But, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her as well, pulling her even closer to him, and Emma felt herself sigh with relief.

"Goodnight, Killian," whispered Emma sleepily, already feeling herself drifting.

She felt him kiss her hair, whispering just as softly, "Goodnight, Emma."

And she fell asleep, wrapped in his arms, drifting into sleep.

Dreamless, peaceful, restful sleep, with a smile still on her lips.


a/n: I will be continuing this story, but it will be in a sequel called "Lost and Found" which has been posted! :) So this marks the end of Begin Again. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and favorited and especially to those who have commented on this story, it means so much!

The sequel story will continue right where we left off! Thanks again for reading and hope to see you over on that story! :)

~cosette141