Everything hurt. It hurt too much for him to be in a hospital and too much for this to be a dream or a hallucination. He had no idea what had happened or where he was or why everything hurt this much and Liam wasn't here. Hadn't Liam been with him? It was all a bit fuzzy, but he could have sworn he was at the cabin with Liam and Emma and everything had hurt there, but not like this.

It felt like he'd been shot.

Had it been a dream? Maybe he'd never left the warehouse. Maybe he was still being held captive. Maybe Emma had never come to his rescue. Maybe… maybe-

And then it all slammed back into him like a rogue wave of memories. The cabin and Gold and being shot and Gold was dead and Liam had sounded so broken and where was Emma and hadn't Gold died and was it over and-

And where was his brother?

Killian's eyes shot open and nothing looked familiar. The walls were some terrifying shade of green that looked nothing like Emma's eyes in any light. The bed was hard and small and the blankets were scratchy and the linens smelled stale. His breath caught in his throat and no one was in the room with him so Killian shot up, adrenaline allowing him to sit up in the bed just long enough for the sheets to pool around his waist before tearing pain spiraled out from his shoulder and he fell back against the pillows, panting and sweating and shivering. He was pretty sure his stomach was going to turn inside out if he didn't find a bucket.

"For the love of God, Jones, you'd better not have torn my stitches!" a familiar voice shouted from the doorway and Killian's head lolled off of the pillow to see who was holding him captive.

Victor Whale.

What the hell was going on?

Killian stared, sure now that - despite the pain radiating through him - this was some kind of concussion-induced hallucination. And not even an enjoyable one. He needed better pain meds.

Or any pain meds, for that matter.

"Wha-" Killian croaked, only now realizing how dry his mouth was and how long he must have been out.

"Quiet," Whale ordered, crossing the room and fiddling with something on the IV pole that was clearly not pain medication. The next thing Killian knew, the brusque doctor had pulled back the tape securing bulky gauze across his chest.

"Ow!" he shouted, trying to curl in on himself and pull away from the pain as it increased tenfold. The tape pulled hairs as it ripped away, but it was nothing compared to the gauze yanking away from his skin. "Bloody hell, man!"

"Oh, hush. You're not dead."

Killian blinked as Whale blanched, suddenly much more gentle as he prodded at the angry, red skin that Killian could only just glimpse if he closed one eye and ducked his chin as close to his chest as the wound would let him.

"What?" Killian asked. "What am I missing? And where's my brother?"

Whale ignored him, tutting in annoyance and turning to walk away.

"Whale!" Killian tried to sit up again, nearly curling up in pain when his shoulder protested.

The doctor turned around, squatting down to root in a bag Killian hadn't noticed by the door. "Relax, Rambo. Just stay put."

Killian scowled, but relaxed his muscles and tried to stay still. It didn't take a detective to realize something was wrong and, despite Gold's meddling involvement, he'd earned that badge. He'd been injured before - hell, he'd been shot before - and Liam had practically needed a restraining order filed to go further than the nurses' desk. And that was only to complain about his brother's lack of care.

He'd had to apologize to security and to Elsa before he was allowed back inside.

Liam had muttered something about Elsa being far more terrifying.

Whale came back promptly and, without making eye contact, jabbed something into the port on the IV line. "Just relax, Detective, before you undo all my hard work and the risk to my job is for nothing."

Killian blinked. The pain started to abate while he was still trying to decipher Whale's words and the bloody wanker still hadn't told him where Liam was. The room around him started to blur and Killian fought the pull of sleep. He had to stay awake. He had to know if Liam was all right.

Then, something more pressing filtered through the haze of morphine or whatever Whale had dosed him with.

He couldn't feel his left hand.

"Frank?" Killian asked, his voice catching as he stared at his fingers, willing them to move.

"I don't know how many times I've asked you not to call me that. I am not Doctor Frankenstein!" Whale growled, reorganizing the things in his bag. "Go to sleep."

Killian tried harder, tensing up every muscle he could and hissing as his shoulder protested.

His fingers remained limp and lifeless on top of the bedclothes. "Doc?" he tried again, blinking rapidly as his breathing stuttered. His hand. Something was wrong with his hand.

"What?" Whale snapped, moving back to his bedside. "Your brother will be here as soon as David fi- oh."

He had the grace to look abashed when Killian turned tortured eyes on him. "I… I can't… what's going on, Frank?"

"You're lucky you didn't lose your arm," Whale muttered, lifting Killian's hand carefully and rotating it. "The bullet must have had some kind of magic spell on it or something because you didn't bleed out and it was high enough not to damage your lungs. There was a lot of damage, though, and there's a lot of swelling. I don't know what that's going to look like in six weeks or three months or a year. We had to do a lot of work just to stabilize you and then…"

Killian shook his head, trying to clear the fog that was insistent on dragging him under. He was missing something, something important, but he couldn't think past six weeks, three months, or a year. Or ever. God, he needed his hand. He needed to be able to…

Whale was still looking at him as if he were a broken toy when the pain meds dragged him under.

He didn't really remember waking over the next few days, drifting in between the haze of meds and sleep that was fraught with memories, with nightmares, with chilling thoughts. And he woke every time, shivering and frightened and looking around for one of two familiar sets of eyes. Killian remembered seeing Robin, remembered asking David where his partner was, could recall Mills' sheepish looks when he realized it wasn't him being called for.

But not Liam. Not Emma.

The changing of the bandages was the worst, pulling and cleaning and what felt like Whale attacking him with a scalpel - though that may have been the meds talking. His shoulder was on fire and his body was freezing and through it all, his hand stayed silent and unmoving. Just a lump of flesh and bone resting on his stomach.

Killian was afraid and Liam wasn't there to make it better.

The nightmares almost weren't more frightening than his waking moments. In his dreams, his hand was gone - replaced by a hook ala Captain Hook sailing the open seas on the Jolly Roger, he couldn't save Liam, he couldn't save Emma, Gold always won. The images flitted past too quickly to dwell on, but jarring enough to keep him from truly resting. He had no real memory of how he'd gotten here, just images mostly. Liam and Emma fighting, the slam of the door when Emma left. Gold. The fear on Liam's face. And the one certainty that he thought he could cling to: Gold was dead. But Emma and Liam weren't here with him.

It was, perhaps, the one thing he couldn't get past. If nothing had happened to them - if he wasn't blocking out Gold killing them before shooting him - then why weren't they here? And where was he? And why weren't they with him?

No one would tell him anything.

Emma had left. She had taken his jacket. He remembered that clearly because he'd hoped it meant she was coming back. But maybe she hadn't. Maybe she'd had enough, maybe… he could almost manage to hope she hadn't come back. If she hadn't come back then she was safe. But Liam? However hard he tried he couldn't come up with an explanation for Liam's absence that didn't involve Gold smirking over his brother's- No!

So he slept and he dreamed and when he woke in those brief moments, he begged whoever was sitting with him to wake him up from the nightmare that was being alone in the world.

"It's all right, Killian. I'm here now; just rest." Emma's voice. Emma's hand at his brow, a cool cloth running over it. And then a hand around his throat closed off his airway and Emma's gentle words turned into Hades' maniacal laugh and Killian shot out of bed again.

He hit the floor hard, the nap of the carpet startling enough to wake him fully. Fire wrapping around his arm and the echo of Hades' laughter ringing in his ear were enough impetus to propel Killian to his feet and send him stumbling across the room. Not even the sharp tug of the IV as it tore from his right hand was enough to stop him.

"Sir?" That was Mills, and Killian swore one of these days that he was going to get the kid to stop calling him that. "Sir, are you all right?"

Killian swung his head around to stare at Henry, the blurred image of him looking as worried as he sounded. "M' brother?" he asked for what must have been the hundredth time.

"Let's get you back in bed, sir. David will have my head if he sees you bleeding all over Whale's carpet."

David. Well, that was progress.

Killian reeled in his thoughts, trying to keep them from slipping away like the tide underneath his feet. He leaned on the kid anyway, his good arm draped over Henry's shoulders and his bare feet dragging against the carpet. "Where are we?" he asked, looking around as he sank back onto the mattress.

Henry looked around as if he'd never seen the place before. "Umm…" he trailed off, looking helplessly at the door Killian had been trying to escape out of.

"Mills!" he barked.

"Doctor Whale's Cape house," he mumbled.

Killian blinked.

And blinked again. Then he ran a hand over his face, grimacing at the beard that was no longer just stubble. "We're… on the bloody Cape?"

Henry looked at the door again. "You were pretty out of it when you came to in the ambulance."

Killian didn't remember that.

"We weren't near the Cape," was all he could say, raising an eyebrow and daring Mills to leave before he got answers.

Henry shook his head. "No. We, umm… well Robin, really. He… I mean…"

"We faked your death. And stay in bed! You're bleeding all over my guest room." Whale stormed into the room, shoving Killian back against the pillows with two fingers on his chest.

"Where's Liam?"

Whale huffed out an annoyed sigh. "You are a goddamn broken record, aren't you?"

"Is my brother dead?" Killian hated how desperate his voice sounded, but if Whale knocked him out again, if he had to go back to the dreams without knowing-

"David and Robin are trying to find your bloody stubborn arse of a brother. When they do, they will bring him here. Okay?"

Killian blinked, the relief tainted with confusion. "Then why isn't he here? Where's Emma?"

"Off with Liam doing something stupid that I'm going to have to patch up, no doubt." Whale reached into the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a new IV kit.

Killian watched as Whale spread out the kit on the bedside table with a bit of trepidation. He knew all too well how much the doctor loved having to redo his handiwork. "Keep a well stocked guest room, do you?" he snarked to cover the nerves.

Whale just looked at him balefully. "When a detective in the BPD backs you against a wall with his hand around your throat and tells you to keep his partner alive no matter what with the kind of look in his eye that Locksley had? You pack more than enough essentials."

Locksley?

"Robin's here?"

"Was I speaking French? I thought I spoke English. Hades wants you dead. We had to get you out of there - at no little risk to my career, faking your death like that - and your bloody brother didn't get the message. By the time the meds started to wear off and I could get you out of the morgue, unnoticed, Liam and Emma were already long gone." Whale sighed in exasperation, swabbing alcohol over the back of Killian's hand and jabbing him - unnecessarily hard, in Killian's opinion - with a bloody dagger masquerading as an IV port. "Your partner and Nolan are back in Boston trying to find your idiot brother before he gets himself killed. They left me in charge of babysitting you and the infant over there."

Henry scoffed as Whale nodded his head at the increasingly annoyed rookie.

Killian could feel the blood draining from his face. "He… what?"

Henry glared at the doctor, stepping in between the bed and Whale. It was the most ballsy Killian had ever seen the kid act. "We weren't supposed to tell him that," Mills hissed angrily.

Whale shrugged. "That's what the morphine is for," he muttered before jabbing a syringe into Killian's IV line.

He drifted away to the terrifying image of Hades gunning down his brother in front of Emma.

Liam!

Killian was alive.

The rest of it was all a blur other than those three words, playing on repeat in her head. Killian Jones, bloody menace to her emotions, was alive and hidden away from whomever wanted to hurt him. Robin had kept his partner safe, the first and foremost of his responsibilities, and she couldn't even be angry at him for it.

Although, if Liam didn't survive the sheer amount of blood that he'd left behind on that warehouse floor, Emma was not going to be the one to tell Killian about it. Robin could take that responsibility as well.

The EMTs were working quickly, relegating David and her to the sidelines to watch as they packed mountains of gauze into Liam's shoulder and his side and, God, there was just so much blood.

He had to be okay. He had to. Emma didn't know if he'd heard her shout in his face about Killian, but he needed to know that, too, because if there was one thing Liam would fight for, it was his little brother.

Killian still needed him.

Killian. God, how was he alive? She'd been in the room when he'd flatlined. She'd watched the doctor try to revive him. She'd listened to them call his time of death. She'd seen the defeat in Liam's shoulders as he worked up the courage to say goodbye in the morgue.

Killian was alive?

Robin wouldn't lie about that. She didn't know him well, but Killian trusted him and Locksley didn't have anything to gain by misleading them.

And - above all else - Emma needed to believe him. She needed Killian to be alive, needed to tell him that she wanted him in her life. That she wanted to wake up next to him in the morning and she wanted to learn how to sail his dumb boat and she wanted him. Just him. He was enough for her.

She loved him.

The thought came out of left field - of somewhere far past the Green Monster - but once it was out there, it filled her. She loved him. In a way that Emma was sure she hadn't loved anyone else.

Maybe even like he'd loved Milah.

There was a flurry of activity going around her, movement towards the ambulance and Locksley guiding her to a squad car and she still didn't really know how they'd gotten there, but she'd never been so glad to see backup in her entire life.

And Liam's eyes were fluttering, his hands trying to bat at the oxygen mask and Emma needed to tell him-

David beat her to it, grasping Liam's hand in his and bending over his head so he could whisper in his ear and even from across the parking lot, Emma could see the tension leak out of Liam's body. She could hear the relieved sobbing and watched as David gripped Liam's hand more tightly in his, nodding and reassuring and, God, it was all going to be all right now.

Liam knew his little brother was alive.

There was still a mountain of paperwork to get through as they waited in the ER lobby, an officer named Graham taking her statement and Ingrid coming in from Emma's department to conduct the IA investigation into this mess and none of it mattered. Because Emma wasn't going to have to find Killian wherever Robin had stashed him and tell him that she'd failed to keep Liam alive.

Because Liam was going to be fine, the gunshot wound a deep graze and the stab wound doing soft tissue damage and little else and within 24 hours, he'd been released to Whale's care.

It had been a long ride to the Cape.

Emma was sure that Mills had never looked so relieved to see someone as he did when David and Robin shouldered Liam through the door. The elder Jones refused to lie down until he'd seen Killian and Emma was inclined to agree with him. Henry was already halfway down the hall and Whale was arguing with both of them and no one was really listening to him anyway.

Killian looked awful.

Killian looked wonderful.

His chest rose and fell evenly - breathing on his own - and there was color in his cheeks and his left arm was limp across his chest but his right hand and both feet were twitching sporadically in his sleep and he was alive. He was alive and he was okay and Emma started to breathe easily for the first time in over a week.

And, suddenly, she realized how exhausted she was.

Liam was crying again, not even bothering to blame it on the painkillers Whale had demanded he take for the ride down. He sank down in the chair on Killian's right side, pulling his little brother's hand into his and nearly collapsing as the tremors overtook him. David caught him before he could fall, waiting for the adrenaline and the neurotoxin to work together to knock Liam out and, only then, did he dare to move Liam from Killian's side.

Whale promised that Liam wouldn't wake up again until they wanted him to - once Killian was awake and they could spend some time together. Healing.

And so they waited. Strategic medication schedules kept both the Jones brothers from waking and causing a ruckus - Emma grinned to herself as Henry regaled her with stories of Killian's escape attempts. They worked out a schedule so that one of them would be sitting with each brother at all times, and they were all suspended pending the investigation into Hades' and Gold's deaths anyway, so they waited.

Of course Killian woke first.

He was out of it when he came to, croaking and flinching away from Emma and she wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but she didn't know how.

Simple, Emma. Keep it simple.

It was all going well until Killian realized she was alone in the room with him. It was clear that he wasn't really seeing her as he pulled away, trying to flee.

Dumb, Emma. What were you thinking?

He was frightened; it was terrifying to see it in his eyes and when he shot out of bed, Emma just reacted.

It was a tangle of limbs and bedclothes as they hit the ground, an elbow in her ribs and her hand caught under Killian's near-dead weight. She could feel the tension in his muscles as Killian bit back a cry and tried to get to his feet. Emma backed off as much as she was able, her hand still tangled in his, her thumb still soothing back and forth.

Killian stopped then, the fight leaching out of him as he came to stare at his hand. She watched, hardly daring to breathe, as his eyes flitted back and forth, matching the rhythm of her thumb.

"It's all right, Jones," she whispered. "You're safe. Back to bed, all right?"

Killian nodded slowly, sloppily, allowing her to shoulder him back onto the bed and under the covers. He was out before Whale began muttering under his breath and checking the stitches.

Only when Emma was alone in the room again did she realize - she'd done that.

It was heady to realize that he trusted her, that he needed her. That she was helping. All she had to do was calm him down each time and, the more questions he asked, the easier it got to settle him each time until, finally, he slept peacefully.

"I hope you know your boyfriend's a right pain in the arse," Whale's voice filtered through the haze.

Killian's mouth was stuffed with cotton and his eyes had been covered in sand. He jumped when a hand slid over his chest, resting - not hurting - atop his heart. Something was sliding back and forth and Killian tensed, waiting for the pain he was sure would come next. He hadn't spent much time as a captive, but he was sure that being gagged with whatever they'd stuffed in his mouth was par for-

"Jones? Are you awake this time?"

Swan.

Killian opened his eyes blearily, adrenaline reminding him of the last nightmare he remembered walking through, where this was a front and Hades would be popping his head in any minute. He flinched when Emma's face appeared in his vision, a little blurry around the edges, but clearly concerned.

"Real?" he stumbled over the word, mouth still stuffed with cotton and… oh. Oh, she had water. Water was good.

"Slowly, Killian," she soothed, lifting his head and tipping the glass to his lips. "Whale's kept you out for a few days to give himself a break."

Killian's brow furrowed. "When'd you get here?" he asked, unable to bite back the whine when she pulled the glass away too soon.

"Two days ago," she mumbled, letting him sip from the glass again.

Killian blinked. That… seemed like a long time. "Whale that mad at me?"

Emma smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Something like that," she admitted, looking anywhere but at him.

Alarm bells started ringing. Something was wrong, still. It took an unimpressive amount of time before he realized what was niggling at his brain.

"Liam?"

Emma grimaced.

The breath caught in his chest, stuttering out in shivering gasps that set every nerve ending on edge.

"Where's my br- Swan, where's Liam?" He was frantic now, trying to push through the fog that the morphine wanted to keep him in. Not even the searing pain in his chest could keep him from sitting up, reaching spasmodically for anything and anyone to hold onto to ground him in the reality where his brother was alive. Was okay.

Emma slid in behind him on the bed, wrapping her arms around him to support him. "Liam's in the next room, Killian. Just stay put, all right? Easy now."

Killian's hand flopped uselessly into his lap, stinging more than the unknown injuries his brother was suffering from. Emma reached around to interlock their fingers and he wanted to do nothing more than squeeze back, let her know he heard her, let her know that he lo-

Bloody hell. He loved her.

It wasn't the time nor the place for realizations like that, but - God - he'd nearly died and Gold was finally gone and Milah could finally rest and Liam might be hurt and-

"Hades?"

Killian felt Emma's head shake against his back. "He's gone, Killian. Robin killed him. He won't hurt anyone else."

He sagged, letting Emma take his weight as the adrenaline fled, leaving him shaky and hurting again. He still needed to see Liam, but Killian didn't think he could make it out of bed at the moment, never mind across a room and who knew how far beyond.

"Is he going to be all right?"

"He's going to be okay, Killian. You can rest."

Liam was here. He was safe. They could figure the rest of it out later.

"You want to lie down?" Emma asked, her thumb transfixing him as he watched it swipe back and forth over his hand.

If he concentrated hard enough, Killian could almost believe that he felt the movement rather than just saw it. He shook his head 'no', shifting carefully in deference to his shoulder, but unwilling to let her escape now that she was here. With him.

Safe.

They were both safe - Emma and Liam - and that, more than the drip of medicine slowly plunking away to his right, lulled him back to sleep. Emma's breath whispered in his ear and her heart beat steadily beneath his back and he was with her and they were all safe.

Killian was nearly asleep again when David stormed into the room. "Liam's waking up," was all he said before throwing the covers back from his bare legs and unhooking the IV from the sconce.

Emma didn't even try to protest, one hand on Killian's back and the other reaching for the sling he hadn't needed yet. It took a moment, but they had him standing more or less unaided by the time Robin tumbled into the room.

"How are ya, mate?"

"Liam." It was an order as much as it was an answer.

Robin laughed under his breath but nodded, taking David's place under Killian's shoulder - at his partner's side, where he belonged.

It was slow going, the few steps across the hallway seeming like a marathon for the way he was gasping and sweating by the time they got there. Whale waited for them in what was clearly his master bedroom with a scowl on his face.

Liam was pale in the bed, an IV of his own that Emma muttered may not have been necessary if they thought he would rest instead of sitting vigil for Killian. Killian couldn't blame him - he'd have done the same. Liam's eyes were fluttering and his head was tossing and there was a full syringe lying on the bedside table.

Killian knew they wouldn't need it. Not once Liam woke and saw him here.

Emma and Robin gently helped him sit at Liam's hip, then Robin surprised them both - backing off so that Emma could stand at Killian's shoulder, just in case. A soft smile was the only answer to her unspoken question.

David sat by Liam's other hip as Killian struggled to stay upright on his own. He felt as though he'd climbed Mount Washington with Roland on his back in the middle of August. But Liam needed to see him as badly as he needed to see his brother awake and that was really all that mattered. He wasn't really sure of how much time had passed since the cabin, too many different doctors and too much medicine, and a vague memory of darkness and the morgue coupled with far too much adrenaline, but it had been too long.

Liam's eyes blinked open slowly and Killian's breath caught in his throat. He looked to David for help, not able to say anything.

"Hey there, partner," David called softly, taking pity on Killian. "You want to wake up and yell at your brother?"

So much for pity.

Liam's eyes shot open, his own breath coming in soft gasps as he looked wildly around the room, settling on Killian after a scant moment. "Killian?" he whispered, the disbelief and the unadulterated grief like a shot to the heart.

"Aye, brother. I'm here."

It was too much and not enough when Liam struggled to sit up and, with David's help, managed to reach out and grasp Killian's shoulder. Killian ducked his head and smiled when their foreheads fell together with a soft clunk that made him chuckle.

Everything else fell away as the world settled back onto the right axis. The brothers Jones against the world once more.

"Are you all right?" Liam asked, pulling away far enough to look Killian in the eye.

That was a complicated question. Gold was gone; Milah could rest finally. He could move on. He'd thought… he'd figured that if he survived taking Gold down, it would feel different somehow. And that was when he realized - he'd already moved on from Milah's death.

Emma had helped him do that.

But there was still so much unknown to deal with. There was his hand and Emma and his job and Liam and Emma and-

Emma squeezed his shoulder and things slowed down in his head. One thing at a time.

"Aye, brother. I'm going to be all right." In the long and the short of it, it was true. He had his brother and Emma at his side and he'd figure out the rest as it came along.

Liam sagged, his fingers clenching around Killian's biceps and it was the first time he realized he was sitting at his brother's bedside in naught but a pair of shorts that didn't look familiar. His cheeks colored a bit, but Emma's soft laughter and Liam's smirk were almost worth the embarrassment.

Almost.

When Liam started laughing along with Emma, Killian snatched the blanket from over his brother's hips to toss across his own lap. Of course, Liam was wearing sweatpants. Killian's cheeks colored further.

"Come on, Jones," Emma urged. "Let's get you into bed."

David whistled and Robin laughed and Liam's eyes flashed.

They were all going to be fine.

"Bloody hell, woman," he chided good naturedly, "at least buy a man dinner first."

It was Emma's turn to blush, her cheeks glowing pink as she wrinkled her nose and glared. "You wish, Jones," was her only retort.

He did. He really, really did.

Killian tried not to make a sound as Emma and Robin helped him to his feet. He was thankful that the sling supported his hand as well as his shoulder, but he couldn't quite mask the worry from Liam's watchful stare.

"Killian, what's wrong?" his brother asked, eyes zeroing in on the white gauze wrapped around his shoulder and the sling that cinched tightly to his torso.

"Later, Liam," David ordered. "You both need rest."

Liam sat up straighter. "What aren't you telling- I swear to God, Whale, if you so much as think about picking up that needle, I'll yank this IV."

Whale backed away from the table with his hands raised and a look of concerned annoyance on his face.

"It'll keep, Brother, I promise," Killian vowed. "I'm all right."

Liam stared at him for what seemed an eternity. Killian let him, remembering how every little twitch and tremor of Liam's had once made him do the same.

"You'd… you wouldn't lie to me?"

It hurt, after everything that had been going on with Hades under Killian's nose, that Liam would worry about that. "No, brother. I wouldn't lie to you about this. I've got to heal, and so do you. But we're going to be fine"

Liam nodded, sinking back into the pillows with a barely masked groan.

"Come on, Killian," Emma whispered from his side, her hand on the middle of his back to brace him. "You need to lie down."

He was starting to agree with her, the edges of the room starting to go fuzzy, and he could only imagine that it would be less than helpful if he passed out within Liam's line of sight.

With a nod, Killian let Emma and Robin guide him back to the uncomfortable bed. He sank down onto the mattress with a wince and a scowl, but didn't lie back when she pushed insistently on his chest.

"I've been on my back for far too long, luv. Just let me sit up a moment."

"And that's my cue to leave," Robin snarked with a wry grin, backing out of the room with his hands over his eyes.

Emma rolled hers. "Fine, Jones, but there won't be any pillaging and plundering going on for awhile."

"Agreed," he muttered tiredly, shifting with her help to lean back against the headboard. "Stay?"

Emma smiled gently, sitting by his hip with one hand on his thigh. Sparks shot through his bare skin, traveling up his leg and settling in the middle of his chest. They sat in silence for a long time, watching the shadows lengthen along the floorboards.

"I thought you were dead," Emma interrupted the silence some time later. "I didn't… I should have…"

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

Emma shook her head. "You didn't know what Locksley was going to do. I just… I watched your heart stop beating and I couldn't…"

Killian reached out to cover her hand with his own. He ducked his head until she looked at him, nodding his head and smiling encouragingly. "I'm all-

"I love you."

Killian blinked, the smile stretching across his face even before the words registered.

"-have said it before. And you don't have to say anything, but I just wanted you to know. You deserve to know that… that I love you."

Bloody hell, she was still talking. Why was she still talking when she should be kissing him. She loved him; they loved each other. There should be more-

Oh.

"I love you, Swan," Killian finally managed, squeezing her fingers and tugging lightly.

She stopped talking.

"I love you," he repeated, reaching up to finger the ends of her hair. "I don't know when it happened, or how, but we live in a world with no certainties and no roadmaps to explain all of this. All I know is that I want to figure it out with you."

Killian wasn't entirely sure if he could name the emotion that crossed Emma's face as he finished speaking. There was a little bit of awe mixed with disbelief mixed with… with love. He watched as Emma processed the words and took them to heart. She smiled back at him before leaning in.

Carefully, oh so carefully, Emma laid her hand over his chest, fingers curled just slightly into the gauze wrapped around him. She loomed over him for an instant before brushing her lips over his. The kiss was feather light, not even enough pressure to poke at the split in his lip Hades had dealt him. It was everything and not enough all at the same time.

It was a promise of more to come.

Six Months Later…

Killian looked around the bullpen with a little bit of trepidation and bittersweet closure. He'd worked his way up the ranks here, Gold's interference notwithstanding, and he'd thought - once upon a time - that he'd retire here with a gold watch and a handshake of thanks and a pint (or ten) down at Finnegan's Tavern. Things had looked so different before Emma Swan had swooped into his life.

Now, Robin and Mills were occupying one set of desks, their heads bent together over a new case. David looked out over the lot of them, a shiny Captain's bar on his uniform shirt.

And Killian had a box full of knick knacks and the Captain Hook pen he'd refused to leave behind and Emma's left hand entwined with his.

His own left hand squeezed the Nerf ball that his physical therapist swore was an actual tool and not a torture device. The feeling was coming back - albeit too slowly for Killian's liking - and he was almost able to get through the day without it cramping up or giving out on him. One last laugh for Robert Gold before he was on the road to being forgotten entirely.

It didn't matter. What did was that it was almost time to take the Jolly Roger out for the long weekend and Killian had better things to do with his time than worry about what that old crocodile had almost cost him. His arm would get better or it wouldn't. Either way, he'd closed the book on this part of his life and was looking forward to opening the next adventure.

With Emma and Liam by his side.

"You ready to go?" Emma asked, squeezing her fingers around his and reaching for the box at his feet.

"Aye, luv," he agreed. "We've got to meet Liam in the North End in an hour and I don't think I have the patience for traffic if we wait much longer."

Emma laughed quietly, hefting the box onto one hip and tugging on his hand until he kissed her briefly on the cheek.

"Jones!" David bellowed from his office, the glint of a smile on his face as he waved him over.

"You're not going to change my mind about this," Killian warned him as he leaned against the door jamb with his thumbs in his belt loops.

David rolled his eyes. "I know. Your brother would have my head if I even tried. I just… if you do change your mind, all you need to do is requalify once you're cleared and…"

"And the job is mine. I know, Captain." He smirked at the promotion and the desk job it promised David. Safety. With Mary Margaret nearly five months pregnant, it was exactly what the Nolan clan needed now. "I appreciate it. But this… it's just something I've gotta do."

David nodded. "I know. It'll be good for both of you. I just… this department needs more men like you."

"Aww, Dave," Killian drawled sardonically, "I didn't know you cared."

"Get out of here before I change my mind about keeping your job for you," David tossed back, but the smile never left his face.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long to get to the address Liam had texted him in the North End. Killian parked the Chevelle on the street and opened the door, the smell of salt air hitting him as soon as he set feet on the pavement. They were close enough to the water that even the smells of the city couldn't permeate here.

"What are we doing here?" Emma asked, shutting her own door and shading her eyes against the afternoon sun.

Killian shook his head, looking around for his brother. "Don't know, luv. Liam just said he'd meet us here."

"Are you sure you got the address right?"

"Emma," he chastised. "We aren't going to become one of those couples who can't agree on directions, are we?"

"She's got you whipped already, little brother," Liam's voice called from across the street.

Killian smiled. The days after his return from the dead had brought out a new level of cosseting and mother henning from Liam. He hadn't heard that particular moniker since beforehand.

Still, it wouldn't do for Liam to think he could get away with it.

"Perhaps you mean younger brother, Liam," he reminded without any real heat. "And the lady has a point. What did you bring us all the way across town for?"

Liam smiled enigmatically before gesturing for them to cross the street and follow him. "If we're going to work together from here on out, we need a little bit more space than I had in that closet office on Boylston. And since we needed more room, I thought we should make it official, your transfer to the private sector as it were."

Killian raised an eyebrow, looking over to Emma in question. She had no better idea than he did what was going through Liam's head.

And then he saw it; the sign swinging in the wind over a nondescript door at the corner of the office buildings. Everything fell into place as he realized what Liam had done for them. It was perfect. Nothing too flashy or unnecessary, just straight and to the point.

Jones Brothers Investigations had a pretty good ring to it, after all.