A/N- I'd just like to remind you, and inform any newcomers of the poll on my profile. I have a few ideas about the ending of this story, but nothing concrete. Any feedback you have is greatly appreciated. And yes, his name is Colin. Not very pirate-y, I know. I couldn't really think of anything better. I decided to keep the last name though.

-S.

Emma had never been one for clichés, and yet, at the sight of Killian alive and unharmed in front of her, she felt the stopping of time. His hand was still wrapped around her bicep, and my gods, she felt as if the world had somehow fallen back into order. Maybe she still had a psychopathic evil queen to deal with, and maybe she was trapped in another realm, but in that moment, she could not force herself to care.

"Lass? Are you alright?" So she had been staring. Could she really be blamed?

Shaking her head to clear it of her thoughts, she replied. "Oh, I'm-I'm fine. Absolutely fine." Since when had she ever let a man fluster her so? Since she thought said man, her husband, may or may not have been stuck in another realm. Or worse. She shuddered, pushing that thought from her mind quite forcefully.

"Are you sure? You seem a bit… shaken."

Well, of-bloody-fucking-course she was shaken. She had spent the entire day-eleven years, actually-bouncing between hope and dread. And now that she knew that the Dark One was here, she felt as though nowhere in this entire town was safe. "You, uh, you look familiar, that's all."

He gave her an odd look. "Can't say I've hear that one before. Just who are you, Lass? I've yet to see you around town, and, well we don't get many visitors." He paused and scratched behind his ear, almost, nervously. "Or, any visitors at all, really."

"Emma. Emma… Swan." She had to bite her tongue to keep from ruining everything, to keep from telling him that her name was Emma Jones, and that she loved him, and missed him; that he was her husband and she needed him to remember her. This was harder than she had anticipated.

He smiled and reached for her hand. Emma only briefly noticed that he was wearing some sort of stiff, false hand in place of his hook. Instead of shaking her hand, as Emma's fake memories had told her was a common greeting in this land, he pressed his lips to her knuckles in a very familiar, comforting way. Maybe Killian wasn't all gone.

"Jones," he said, and Emma's heart fluttered. Maybe this would be easier than she thought "Colin Jones."

Two very conflicting emotions hit her at once, and she wasn't sure which one to focus on. On the one hand, she couldn't stop the swell of joy that welled up inside of her at the sound of his name, their name. On the other hand, what kind of self respecting pirate calls himself Colin? It didn't exactly strike fear into the hearts of people the way Hook or even Killian did.

After a moment of silence, she tried to respond, but her voice was conveniently absent. She tried again, barking out a slight cough before, "It's nice to meet you." Really, Emma? She thought to herself. This is your husband, the love of your life, and that's all you've got?

"Aye," he chuckled. "Though, perhaps next time we meet, I won't nearly knock you to the ground. That's quite bad form, you know."

Emma's heart clenched again, and she knew that if she didn't take her leave soon, she'd end up doing something she may come to regret. She could see the sign for Granny's Bed and Breakfast behind him, and decided that she'd need to stop by for a room anyway. Killian was okay, and that was what really mattered to her. Skinning a crocodile could wait.

"How do you know there will be a next time?" she asked coyly, trying to hide the fact that she desperately needed there to be. She just wanted her life to go back to the way that it was. Baby steps.

The tips of his ears turned pink, and his eyes drifted away from hers. Well that was different. "I suppose it was more of a hope than anything else. Forgive me for being so bold, but you are quite… lovely." When his eyes turned back to hers, they were deep, searching, and almost afraid. She wondered what had happened here to make him so different. Where was her bold and fiery pirate captain?

A voice in the back of her head told her that she had work to do, a curse to break. She didn't have the time, or, if she was being honest with herself, the willpower, to continue this conversation. Every time he opened his mouth, she could think of little more than kissing him. Later. Once the curse is broken. Later.

"I guess we'll see," she said, moving to step around him. "I'll try to run into you later."

He laughed, and she took the opportunity to slip into the Bed and Breakfast.

Granny was behind the counter this time, typing away at the magical box that Henry had informed her was called a computer. She looked up when the bell above their heads jingled, a smile on her face. "Oh, hello dear. What can I do for you?"

Hug me like you did was I was little. Send me home. Remember.

Emma rolled her eyes at her inner monologue as she approached the desk. What kind of pirate was she? Yes, course she wanted to go home, but she'd built a rather thick, impenetrable wall around that corner of her heart for a reason. She loved her family and missed them greatly, but royal life was not for her.

"I'm just looking for a room," Emma explained, with a gentle smile, trying to forget about her train of thought.

Granny asked for specifics about the room size and floor level a bit too excitedly. Only then did it occur to her that she was probably the inn's only customer. Just as everyone seemed to remind her, Storybrooke never had any visitors. In fact, she was probably the first one. Ever. Deciding to play on that, Emma requested a room with a view. Granny was all too happy to hand over the key to a room on the third floor, which supposedly had an "amazing" view of Main Street and the clock tower.

There was no need to explain that she preferred the sight of the sun set over the open ocean.

Once in her room, Emma huffed out a sigh, locking the door and flinging open the window. A part of her knew that it had been an eventful day, and that the world was not going to end if she took some time for herself. The other part of her was already busy planning. It was hard to put this curse business into perspective when her husband didn't remember her, and her son was somehow even years old. She needed to focus without thinking about all that she had lost.

How was she supposed to break a curse without the possibility of a True Love's Kiss?

Henry was convinced that she was the Savior, that she was made of True Love and magic. He thought she was the only one who could possibly save the town. But, how could she? Her own husband didn't remember her, and her father was in a coma, so kisses were out. According to Henry, being made of True Love, which was the most powerful magic, also gave Emma said magic. But-

She snapped her fingers. Nothing.

Thought of her parents together and happy. Nope.

Pointed to a painting on the wall across from her. It didn't so much as twitch.

Glared at the ring on her third finger. It did not bring her husband back to her.

She gave up.