"You know her?" Emma asked, her tone conveying her utter disbelief at his words. "You know a vampire? How?"

"It's a long story," Killian deflected.

"The CliffsNotes version will do." She folded her arms across her chest in a way that told him she wasn't planning to go anywhere, until he started giving her some answers.

Killian cast a look around the empty cemetery, almost as if he was hoping some kind of explanation would jump out at him. When he turned to face Emma once more, that look of determination was set into his features again, as he said, "We used to be friends."

"Friends or friends?"

His lack of reply told her more than any of his words ever could.

"You dated a vampire?"

"She wasn't a vampire when I met her," he explained, his tone dripping with his frustration. "And that was a long time ago, Emma. So can we just drop this, please? She's not the kind of person you need to be getting caught up with right now."

An uncomfortable silence seemed to settle between the two of them, and for the longest moment, Killian dared to hope that the young slayer would accept his answers and drop the subject.

He should have known better than to believe that.

Emma Swan might have been many things, but stupid wasn't one of them.

"How?"

"How what?" he asked, a little confused about where the conversation was going.

"How could you have known her before she became a vampire?" she pressed. "I thought you said she was one of the old ones."

A horrifying realization was beginning to settle over the slayer, and she found herself taking a small step back as it did.

"Emma," Killian began softly, sensing that change in her stance. "It's not…"

"It's not what? What lies are you going to feed to me next, Killian?" she asked, her voice rising a little with her anger.

Because the answer that was screaming at her couldn't possibly be the explanation that she was searching for.

It just couldn't be.

Killian opened his mouth to reply but Emma held up a hand to stop him before he could. "Just… just don't," she told him, as she fought hard against the tears that were beginning to form. "No more lies, Killian. If you respect me at all, if you care about me at all… I need you to show me. Prove to me that what I'm currently thinking isn't true. Please."

Killian's eyes slid closed at the tremor her voice was carrying. He knew what she was asking of him, and he knew that it would be the make or break moment for their friendship. A part of him wished that he could turn back time, and take everything back, so that he could reveal his secrets when he knew she wouldn't run.

But he knew that if he was to stand any chance of salvaging his relationship with the young slayer after that evening, he'd need to play by her rules.

And that meant showing Emma that her worst fears were coming true.

With his eyes still shut, Killian dropped his head as he allowed that long-buried instinct inside of himself to build once more. When he could feel it pressing against the point of no return, instead of fighting it down he allowed it to break free, as it took hold of him for the first time in decades.

The moment his eyes opened he heard Emma's gasp of horror ring out around the silent grave yard, as she took another step back and away from him.

"I didn't want you to find out this way," he whispered quietly.

"How did you want me to find out?" she threw back at him "What kind of game were you playing, Killian? What, is it… is it funny to your kind? What was the plan here? To make the slayer fall for you? To turn me to your side, before Gold could get to me? Tell me!"

"I'm not like them," he replied softly. "I don't… I haven't taken a life in almost a century, Emma. I can't. You have to believe that."

"I don't," she replied simply. "I don't believe you."

He'd lied to her so much already in the short space of time that they'd come to know each other, that there was absolutely no way she could ever trust him again.

"Emma, please," he begged, reaching out for her arm.

"Don't touch me," she snapped, taking a large step back and out of his range. "Don't you dare touch me. Don't follow me home. Don't follow me anywhere. Leave town, Killian. Because the next time I see you, I will kill you," she threatened, before turning on her heels to storm out of the cemetery.

Emma only made it as far as the corner of the next street before she crumpled down to the sidewalk, to sob into the darkness of the night.

Killian stood dumbfounded in the middle of a series of headstones, staring at the space that Emma had been stood in only moments before. Every fibre of his being was telling him to go after her, to explain about the curse and to beg her to listen to him. But he knew now was not the time for that.

She needed to be able to trust him, before she could even begin to listen to him.

And he would need to find a way to earn that trust from her.

"Poor, Killian," cooed a familiar childish voice, from somewhere behind him. "Pining over a girl that he can't have. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

"What do you want, Milah?"

"Me? I don't want anything. I'm here to help." He felt her step up close behind him, her body brushing against his as she pushed up onto her toes, to whisper into his ear, "I know what you want, Killian. What your entire body craves. I know how hard you fight it. Is it really worth it? Is she?"

He spun around faster than was humanly possible, one hand collecting her wrists to pin above her head, as the other went straight to her throat while he backed her into the mausoleum in the centre of the cemetery.

"There's the vampire I know a love," she taunted, her eyes darkening with her lust. "You always did enjoy it rough."

Killian's anger died as he realized that he was only feeding into her delusions. He took a moment to calm himself down, before putting some distance between the two of them.

"Go, Milah. Get out of her. Out of this town. And stay away. From me and from Emma."

"Or what?" she goaded. "Gonna sic your girlfriend on me? Oh, that's right… she couldn't slay a vampire if it was chained to the wall in front of her."

"Maybe she can't, but I can," he threatened darkly.

"You wouldn't hurt me," she chuckled, like the mere thought was that preposterous. "You never could. It doesn't have to be this way, Killian. You don't need to keep denying yourself anymore. The Harvest is coming, and when it does, The Master will rise. You could be his right-hand man. Think about it."

Milah had disappeared before she'd finished speaking, leaving Killian alone in the darkness of the night.

His hands came up to tug violently on his hair as the words of two women who had meant so much to him, at different points in his long life, began ringing in his ears, pulling him between the darkness and the light.

"Shut up," he roared, bringing both hands down onto the mausoleum he'd just been leaning against.

The ancient stone crumbled to dust under his attack.

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