A/N: I know updates have slowed, and this is the big 5-0, so it's an extra-long chapter. Special thanks to OnceSnow for editing it and helping make it the best chapter it can be.


All these weeks of surveying and drawing up maps had at least been time well spent, Killian thinks, unrolling the layout of the castle onto one of Granny's tables.

"Thanks, guys. This is great," David says, a bit absently, his eyes roving over the map as though it were a paramour stripping garment after garment off for him. The corner of his eye catches Zelena ambling alongside the counter, shaking her head in amusement as she hoists herself up onto it.

"Never mind her," David warns. "Henry, out."

"I want to help!" Henry grunts from the kitchen, dragging a bag filled with what appears to be knives into the diner.

"You need to stay here for when Emma gets back," David says in a firmer tone. "Granny and the dwarves will need help with Roland and Neal now that Belle's...just—just go help them out. Please."

Henry stomps off, exchanging the bag of weaponry for his backpack, and disappears out of view.

"If only this thing had little footsteps on it to show us where Arthur was right now," Robin muses, his fingers following one of the exterior walls drawn on the map. "Then we would know exactly where Excalibur is right this moment."

"Okay, what's the plan?" Snow asks, one hand on her hip as she examines the map with them.

"We take them by surprise and go in through the front gate," David says, and, in keeping with the Prince's advice, he'll ignore the obnoxious forehead slapping Zelena's engaged in lying on the counter. A derisive comment about how she could conveniently fall over the side is too cruel a thing to say, not when it would hurt the baby. With a slight glance over at Robin, Killian's eyes plant themselves back on the map.

"Well, after our recent jailbreak, they'll be on high alert." Just another example of Merlin's idea of helping. "We need a diversion at the drawbridge. The rest of us can climb the wall on the side." There aren't enough of them to do that properly, though, he thinks with a grimace. Adding Belle and a dwarf or two and keeping Henry in the back maybe, but he can't put much thought into what-ifs right now. Everything depends on focusing on the here and now and making the best of their scant numbers.

"Are you forgetting I've got magic? I can just poof into Arthur's bedroom," Regina argues. Then by all means, he considers saying. Interrupt some royal tryst and hope Arthur and Guinevere will be too wrapped up in each other—literally—to spot the gigantic cloud of purple smoke at the foot of the bed...

Zelena blows a raspberry at this, and, in spite of himself, it snaps him in her direction along with everyone else.

"What?" Regina barks at her. She'd shown her Black Knights more gentility than that, he thinks, stifling a smile lest Zelena believe it to be a response to her miming. Voicelessly, she gestures at her throat and the air. "Well, if you're going to make a scene, you might as well make noise." She curls her fist as if she were about to throw a fireball and flicks it out at Zelena, who gives a satisfied moan.

"Oh! Thank you. I do love hearing a sensible person talk!" she sighs with her hand still on her throat. Hopping off the counter, she scans them all with that insane smile of hers.

"Spit it out. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking going in the front? Suicide. Diversion? Arthur hides the sword. You need it on him. And you could 'poof' right in front of a blade. Oopsie! You need to sneak in so quietly no one knows you're there."

Valid points...damn it.

"How? Hang glider?" David snaps at her. That dependable Charming snark. "Oh, giant slingshot!"

"If Sir-Castic would let me speak, I'd tell you that I wasn't idle during those days in there, playing mute handmaiden at Regina's side. I was plotting an escape."

"I knew it," Regina growls.

"And I found a way out," she continues, ignoring the comment. "And if I know a way out, I know a way in."

"You're going to help us?" Regina asks.

"Of course." Says Fake Ariel, he thinks, swallowing. Well, he and Swan had discussed what falls under "dire" and certainly having no choice but to listen to Zelena qualifies. True to form, the Wicked Witch lifts her arm and exposes the magic-binding cuff. "Because you're going to help me. I want my magic back."

He looks to Regina. It shouldn't be solely her decision, but she is sadly the only magical defense they have. Shifting her weight from foot to foot for a moment with her hand on her hip, Regina eyes her sister. Her tongue rolls around in her mouth just as his is doing as he weighs their options. Maybe Regina isn't the only magical defense they will have against her. Once Swan has overcome the temptation the Darkness will try to ensnare her with, there should be no reason for her to avoid using her magic...should there? Bloody hell, he doesn't know how all this works, just that it would give Regina and Swan equal satisfaction to be able to put an end to one magical—and annoying—problem swiftly after all they've gone through lately.

"Sounds too good to be true," Snow snaps.

"I can prove it. I'll show you," Zelena offers.

"You'll say anything to get that cuff off of you," he throws out. She'll show them, all right. Right into a lake of quicksand or a nest of flying monkeys.

"Then isn't it quite the conundrum that, of all the things I could say, it's something that's actually helpful to you?" she counters. Raising his eyebrow at her, his hand veers to the hilt of his sword.

"Show us," David orders.


Behind the castle, surrounded by pine trees and boulders, a wall seems carved into the hillside. Killian and Robin had both concluded it was part of the foundation back when they'd scouted, but Zelena pulls on a curtain of vines to reveal a grate.

"It's a tunnel, abandoned for years. It will take you to the courtyard," Zelena explains.

"Well, if it's so good, why didn't you escape through it?" he asks. The main courtyard of the castle being one of the busiest, most bustling parts of the place notwithstanding, the cover story Regina had concocted had been that Zelena was her handmaiden. None of the courtiers would have batted an eye at a handmaiden slipping in and out.

"Observe the massive metal grate. See, without magic, I'm a delicate thing," she sighs, playing with the cuff.

And he'd rather keep her that way.

"Well, it leads in the right direction. Looks like your information is good. At least this far," David notes as he peers into the dark tunnel, conveniently too dark and too far to see the other side. A more cautious party might have suggested simply waiting for Swan and Merlin to return and use the Sorcerer to give them some magical backup in this pseudo-siege, but caution's never registered all that highly with anyone present. The image of both blades back at the diner is just too tantalizing.

"Thank you. Now I've done my part. You can do yours. Take off this bloody cuff."

"For all we know, this leads to the guards' quarters," Regina hisses at her. "We make it out safe with the sword, then we'll talk. Mary Margaret, how do you feel about guard duty?"

"Oh, I'd be delighted," Snow remarks with a dry tone, shooting Zelena a violent glare. "We'll chat, have plenty of pregnancy tips..."

"Good lord, this is worse than being in my cell," she mutters.

"All right, everyone. Let's get this sword." Waving her hand, Regina dissolves the grate, the ever-familiar sounds of unsheathed swords and whooshes of magic heralding yet another unlikely mission.

Entering the pitch blackness of the tunnel reminds him of turning his back to the blazing sun on his ship's prow and hurrying below decks, the contrast paining the eyes. Blinking and squinting, he takes only a few tentative steps before breaking into a silent jog, confident there aren't any sticks or, if this were Henry's tunnel, marbles, to stumble over on his way. He takes the lead, David, Robin, and Regina's footsteps behind him only the lightest of taps. No one will hear them approach. Perhaps the Witch hadn't led them astray; she is desperate to have her magic back, after all. When they all get home, Regina will need to keep an extra close watch on her, as he's sure she has no intention of removing that cuff.

The blackness fades into something grayer, the sounds of talking and people moving dead ahead. Slowing down, he again rests his hand on his sword as he catches a flash of Guinevere walking by. It is the main courtyard, and everyone's moving in all directions. No one pays any attention to the tunnel, not even the guards. They rush about with their swords drawn, hurrying to whatever positions Arthur's commanded them to take. A few of them go by hauling a bubbling cauldron.

"You suppose that's for us?" Robin asks.

"I have a feeling we don't want to find out," Regina utters. Cheerful thoughts.

"Come on," Killian tells them as the guards march up a set of stairs with the cauldron. "Let's keep moving."

"I keep waiting for the ax to fall," Robin says as they run, staying close to the wall. Oh, it will fall, Killian knows. This is Zelena we're talking about. But their best chance is to get in and get out before it goes.

"I didn't think she had it in her, but Zelena hasn't screwed us. Yet," Regina breathes, her eyes darting everywhere.

"Keep your wits about you, lass," he reminds her. "We might need a fireball or two."

"The Round Table's this way," David pants, rushing up next to him, flashing him a split-second grin of reassurance. "That's the first place to look."

Bursting through the door, there stands Arthur, bent over a book with Excalibur within arm's length.
"Foul witch, you've overpowered the guards!" He actually scolds her as he picks up part of the sword and rushes to them...heavy with intent to bludgeon, it would appear. Regina waves her hand and freezes him in place, arm above his head, and, if matters were not so pressing and he didn't care so much about form, Killian might take some enjoyment in just applying some pressure to the man's shoulder to tip him over.

"Sword's on the table," Robin notes, eyes on both it and Arthur.

"Don't touch it. It could have protection charms." Bloody hell, he's not come all this way for one of their party to end up a pile of dust or a rabbit or some such.

"Tell your timbers to stop shivering, pirate. Nothing in here can hurt us. Arthur doesn't know how to do magic." Sauntering with her hands on her hips over to her frozen victim, Regina smirks at Arthur. Just about to fire back that it wouldn't be the first unpleasant surprise they'd come across, Arthur's own smirk brings his blood to a boil. He'd like to break his neck for it even before that ax comes to fall...

"Hi, guys!"

Zelena, with Snow bound and gagged. Dragging her in, the Witch gives them all a gleeful smile.

"Oh, hell no..." Regina growls.

"Mary Margaret! If you hurt her..." David starts.

"Ooh, Daddy's angry," she simpers, dumping Snow into a chair. Not to be bothered with her captive's grunting and struggling, Zelena looks over at Arthur instead.

"Let's undo that, shall we?" Waving her hand at him, he moves. Bloody hell...

"How did-" Regina begins.

"Well, Arthur was kind enough to remove that constricting jewelry." Showing them her uncuffed hand, she can't seem to stop smiling at all of them. If Regina knows of any spells that can dissolve the ground beneath the pair's feet, now would be the time to cast it.

"Fine. I prefer an even fight!"

"No, don't! The baby!" Robin yells as a fireball materializes into her hand. Or, you know, maybe a spell that could extract the little babe so they could do whatever they wanted to her without consequence...running his sword right through that raving mouth for a start.

"You know, if you had treated me fairly for once, maybe I wouldn't turn on you," Zelena says.

"Yes, you would," Killian snarls back. Perhaps some people can't change.

"But I'd enjoy it less. Oh! Here we are." Bending down, she presses her hands against the pages of the book on the table. "One of Merlin's cookbooks."

"Is it the right spell?" Arthur asks her.

"Oh, yes. It's quite an ingenious recipe for a tethering potion."

"Excellent."

Wait. Wait, no. Blast it all, they'd kept an eye on her, hadn't they? Regina and Robin? She shouldn't be free, shouldn't be imbuing Excalibur with her tainted magic. It almost burns green, the odor more repulsive than ever before, but she looks at it fondly.

"There. You can take it now. Cookies are done, and by cookies, I mean that Artie here may have a shorter sword than a man would like, but it can control the world's greatest wizard. His plan, but I like it. Happy to help."

"Much obliged, milady." Turning Excalibur in his hand, Arthur reveals Merlin's name written across it, just like Emma's on the dagger.
"Arthur, please!" David shouts out to him, awash with fear, and...it renders Killian a scared little boy in the dark all over again to see David shaking with dread. "You can't see a way out, but there is one. You can start over."

"Merlin!"

"We've all started over!" David tries to overpower Arthur's command to summon Merlin to them. "Emma is worth more to you as the Savior than the Dark One!"

Arthur finally turns to him, disgust all over his face.

"Thank you, David. Merlin!"

In an instant, without even any smoke, Merlin is at Arthur's side, confused, a little disoriented, but there. Killian holds his breath.

"Ah, Merlin, how kind of you to come when called. For your first task, please use your magic to keep these fine people from attacking me in any way."

His hand feels like it wrapped the business end of a branding iron, a burning, searing pain forcing him to drop his sword to the floor, where Robin and David's have gone as well.

"Wow!" Zelena squeals.

"It is done, Arthur. You can put that down." Merlin gestures to the sword, strained, unable to simply step forward and take it back. A bit like seeing your heart in someone else's hand, Killian thinks. "We don't have to do this. Emma passed her test."

He releases the breath he'd been holding. She'd passed. She'd overcome the greatest Darkness. It's a sign. They haven't all gone through this hell for nothing. It won't end this way.

"Oh, Emma passed the test? How nice for her."

"I have what we need to unite Excalibur and fulfill your legacy. Give me the sword." He holds out his hand.

"You mean give you the glory?" Arthur scoffs. "No!"

"Glory? You seek glory? Is that really what you've become?" Merlin looks at his protege with such sadness it leaves Killian wondering if he's been too impatient with the great Sorcerer...or if the title is just downright undeserved. "I am so sorry I wasn't there to guide you, Arthur. This isn't the man you were supposed to be."

What kind of man are you going to be?

It's his father's voice ringing in his head, as clearly as the night he first heard it.

"Oh, I am exactly what you made me!" Arthur bellows, nearly sobs. "Look at the half-man with his half-sword, solving riddles from a tree! I bet you laughed."

"I was trapped, and I put my faith in you. You were meant to be like a son to me."

"Shut your mouth! I was never a son to you! You lied. You told me legend would speak of the great King Arthur, using Excalibur to strike darkness from the realm! Tell me how this was not a lie!" It strikes Killian to his core, his entire body bristling at Arthur's rage finally breaking free from its controlled, charismatic cell. Abandonment does things to a person...makes one feel he has no need to answer to anyone since no one's ever wanted his answers in the first place. To feel like you have no one is one of the most dangerous conditions there is. The sword between Arthur and Merlin is proof.

"Because you will do that. You're a part of doing it right now," Merlin pleads.

"A part of it?"

"We have what we need. The future is in your hands, Arthur. Give me the sword. We can repair everything."

"No, not everything," Arthur snaps in so low, so strained a tone, Killian wonders if Arthur will simply run the wizard through rather than carry out his scheme. "This is my charge and my right! I will be known for more than defeating a stone!"

"Arthur, you cannot-"

"Be quiet. We have intruders. Make them leave."

Leave? Leave where? What does that...


"I brought the dagger and the flame, but you don't get it until you free my family."

Finding himself bound to a tree with Emma Swan making demands somehow isn't as pleasant this time as the first go-around. After everyone's frantic attempts to break the chains, twisting this way and that to see if Arthur and Zelena had also whisked Henry to this gods-forsaken patch of forest amid Snow's wounded-animal apologies for failing them—now she's here. Knowing her, she's crafted some third option to ensure they'll all survive, but it will require her holding onto that dark magic longer than she should have.

"No. You will hand it over now, or I unleash Merlin," Arthur says, raising the sword with Merlin's name written on it. Only he stands with Arthur and Zelena, unbound but not free, as much a pawn in their insidious plan as the rest of them.

"Emma, please," Merlin addresses her. "I don't want to fight you."

"No, but I do." Zelena steps forward, circling Emma like a vulture. "So now that Mommy's got her magic back, tell us, Dark One—what are you going to do?"

Emma doesn't speak, merely glares at her, a burning hatred in her eyes. If he could only get free, he could keep Zelena occupied for at least a few minutes. Maybe that would be enough of a distraction for her to be able to steal the sword from Arthur without the use of magic. Then Merlin could release them.

"So, Dark One, who should I execute first? Hmm? Your boyfriend or your father?"

Blast. Damn that woman for reducing him to bloody bait! He has to get free. He will not put her into that position. He won't!

"You can have the flame," Emma says, her voice dead. Holding out a small box to Zelena, she doesn't take her eyes off of all of them.

"Zelena, make sure that's real," Arthur warns.

Rolling her eyes at the comment, she nevertheless opens the box. Black, shiny tendrils, sleeker and more deliberate than the ones that spirited Emma away, coil around Zelena and drag her to one of the birch trees opposite them, lifting her wrists and cinching her waist, the expression of utter contempt on Zelena's face evidence enough it will hold her. Well done, love. He just hopes it didn't cost her soul.

"Now you want to give me my family? Or keep fighting?" she nearly spits at Arthur, the notion itself leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

"Merlin!"

"Please, Emma. Give him the flame. This is a battle you cannot win."

Emma cocks her head, and he holds his breath at the same time she does. Only Emma tells Emma she can't do something, he thinks. Merlin just signed his death warrant.

Blue streaks of lightning zap and crackle against the air as they fly out of Merlin's hands, clashing with the pale yellow ones shooting out of Emma. Swirls and rays of light of nearly every color in the spectrum fly from where the two meet.

"I wish you could defeat me, Emma!" Merlin calls to her over the warring colors. "But I've played this game for too long!" With an anguished cry, he pushes the air harder and she falls so unceremoniously to the ground Killian's sure his heart has stopped. The only sign she isn't dead is a grunt and a failed attempt to even lift up her head. He jerks forward and feels the pressure of the chains only partially on his wrist. The brace. If he can twist it off in time...

"Merlin! Kill her mother!"

Snapping his head up, his eyes widen at a vine stretching down from the tree Snow is tied to and encircling her throat. He watches her twitch, unable to do anything else. It pulls her closer, the coils tightening. The choked sound all he needs to hear to get back to work. Don't stop working, he scolds himself every time his eyes dart up. He knows the others are trying, but they don't have anything detachable. He hears Emma's voice hoarsely crying out to Merlin to fight the Darkness, that if he can't fight it no one can. Convulsing, Merlin pauses, the vine releasing Snow. Her desperate pants and Arthur's repeated orders won't deter him, though. He's almost there...it's almost off...

"I can't hold him off much longer!" Merlin shouts to them.

There.

Free.

The brace falls into the leaves behind him, but no one hears. Squatting down, his back against the tree, he reaches for it, eyes on Arthur.

"You will kill her!" Arthur screams.

"Not today, mate!" Lunging at him, Killian dodges the sword and smacks him across the face with his hook. Not as satisfying as a punch to the face, but effective. It slams Arthur to the ground, along with Excalibur. Leaping around to the other side, he grinds the heel of his boot into Arthur's arm before he can take hold of it again. The king's piercing cry is a long way off from the collected, all-knowing mask he'd worn in front of all of them.

"I know someone else who needs that," he snarls at him. Prying himself free, Arthur scurries to Zelena, untying her and disappearing with her in a puff of green smoke, off to seethe elsewhere.

Let them go. It's as slow as he's ever seen Emma pick herself up off the ground, fighting off dizziness with every move. The respite allows him to exhale...and feel a prickle on the side of his neck. Wincing as his fingertips graze the spot, he knows he'll see a thin line of blood before he even takes them off the stinging wound. Didn't quite dodge Excalibur, then.

"Thank you," Emma murmurs to him, her hands all over his torso, and not in a way he'd describe as amorous by any stretch. Checking him over, she settles one hand on his heart as she usually does and makes a face at the cut.

She doesn't look too worse for wear, still a little dazed and out of breath, but not so much as a scratch marring her anywhere he can see. And she'd passed the Darkness' test. She should be falling in a passed-out heap by now, but instead she keeps inspecting him.

"Easy, Swan. You got tagged pretty good there."

"So did you."

"This thing? Well, I've had worse cuts itching my nose with the wrong hand," he says, almost turning away from her to see where his brace has landed, but her hand keeps his head right where it is, cupping his cheek and extending her fingers over the wound. She leans forward and tells him to hold still, and he'll do so happily since his forehead has dipped down to hers. It feels like coccooning himself in layers of blankets after a hard day, her magic—the faintest whiff of cinnamon hitting his nose as the tingle in his neck goes away.

"Thank you, didn't even sting," he remarks. Smiling, her hand returns to his heart. "Look at that; there's a sword."

She reaches down to pick it up, eyes raking over it.

"Killian, we did it," she breathes. "Now all I have to do is light the spark and then we can get the Darkness out."

"Well then, let's do it and go home." He welcomes her hug and wraps his arm around her tighter, kissing the top of her head, not even caring that they're both swaying. Home. They're already home, he thinks with a grin, but "let's do it and go to the house" just doesn't carry the same weight, even if it's their house.


"Guys! Guys, what happened? Is everybody okay?" Henry rushes out of the diner and somehow manages to tackle Emma and Regina at the same time, burrowing his face into them before he does the same thing to his grandparents. Belle hurries out behind him, bewildered but also relieved.

"I came back and all of you were gone! Henry and Granny had no idea what had happened!"

As if on cue, Granny and the dwarves burst through the doorway at the same time, Roland wedging his way through all of them to run to his father. Having Neal cuddled up against Leroy's arm renders the dwarf's gruff demeanor even more inconsequential than before.

"How did you guys defeat Arthur? Where's Zelena? Come on!" Henry whines as he follows them all inside.

"Trust me, kid, it's a good thing you weren't there," Swan tries to hush him above all the noise.

"Arthur would be a pile of crushed bones if you had been," Regina adds, weaving around them to pat Snow's back.

"Come on! I'm a writer and writers need details!" Jumping from one person to another, Henry shuffles right in front of Killian, just when he'd settled backwards into a stool. "Killian, don't let me down. I need to know who kicked the first ass!"

"Henry..." Regina chides from the other end of the diner, Roland crawling up her lap.

"You two catch up. I'm going to see about lighting this thing up." Squeezing both their arms, Swan moves past—blast it—Happy! The one she doesn't like! He knew he'd get their names straight one of these days.

"I'm up for listening to ass-kicking!" he chirps with a large grin.

"Your mum stepped in to save the day and you know it," Killian says. Granny moves behind them smiling and starts pouring drinks.

"You're the one who saved my life," Snow argues, leaving David's side for the first time since Zelena had vanished. She watches him accompany Regina and Robin outside, probably to scout the woods, before she sidles up to Henry's side.

"Wait, you saved my grandma?"

"Well, lad, it's—technically..."

"Technically, I don't know how to thank you enough." He finishes scratching behind his ear only to have the wind knocked out of him by Snow throwing her arms around him, practically in his lap, with the amount of force she exerted. Before he can recover, she hurries over to Merlin, who had been leaning against the door. "And you! You held off. I don't know much about magic, but that couldn't have been easy. Come on. Granny's got a more comfortable chair somewhere back here. You'll need your strength back when it comes time to put the two blades back together." Taking his arm like a nurse would an invalid, she leads Merlin back towards the restrooms and out of sight.

"Okay, so how did you save Grandma?" Henry demands. Happy sets a stein of beer down on the counter for him.

"Lad, it was all about breaking free from some chains. Once I did that, I punched Arthur, and I'd wager any one of us here would have gladly done the same."

"You punched him? Awesome." Henry about squeals.

"Gave him a left hook, if you know what I mean." He nudges him with the back of his hook, and the look Henry gives him is one he could get used to. He should invite the lad to come tour the house with him when they're back, perhaps word things a certain way so people believe they're out sailing or meeting for lunch. Sparring with him in a living room or on a terrace sounds quite nice right now.

"Well, the woods are clear," David announces. That was quick. Just as well. Once Swan is Darkness-free, they'll have to execute whatever the plan for returning to Storybrooke is. "Zelena and Arthur must have retreated somewhere far from here."

So they do have a shred of intelligence.

"I'm afraid Merlin won't be much help," Belle informs them. "Resisting Excalibur has taken its toll on him."

"And Emma? How she's doing with the spark?" Regina asks.

"Well, she said she needed some time alone. She took it outside," Snow tells her.


What the bloody hell had the woman been thinking? Huffing further into the woods, he shakes his head at the broken twigs and torn-up leaves leading up to a clearing. At least Swan didn't make it difficult to follow her this time. But Regina should have known better. Controlling her like that? How could she have twisted that into a good idea? That kind of force only ever causes deep resentment; days passed in which Killian couldn't decide who he hated more, his father, his master, or Rumpelstiltskin. Always the last one, he decides, letting his fingers drag along the trunk of a tree to settle his nerves. The other two at least couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

Swan sits atop a log, her chin in her hand, staring at the box containing the spark. All in all, it's probably not the wisest thing to venture out when they don't actually know where Zelena and Arthur have retreated, but he has a feeling neither one of them feels much like dueling with her at the moment.

"There you are," he tries to say with some light-heartedness. "Been looking everywhere for you."

"Dagger's right here. Regina was going to use it on me. Why not you?"

Well so much for light-heartedness.

"What she did was wrong. I'm sorry it had to happen."

"It's funny. I'm not," she says quietly, biting her lip. "She was right. I do know why I'm scared to let go of the Darkness. Because of her, I finally admitted it to myself." Gazing up at him, she clamps her lips shut and turns back to the spark. It's not the warmest invitation to sit next to her, but he takes it.

"What are you so afraid of, love?"

"This." She hands the newspaper next to him, still folded so the picture of the house rests on top. Bloody hell... "Our future."

"I see you talked to Henry. Sometimes I forget that boys can't keep secrets." He sets it down on the other side of him, setting his jaw. Gods, if springing the idea on her was the best course of action to take, he'd have been sure to have done it long before he ended up chained to a bloody tree.

"Don't blame him. He just thought it would help if I knew what I had to look forward to when we got home."

And instead you're worried about it, so much so you're considering hanging onto the Darkness itself, he fights the impulse to blurt out. He'd been so sure that, when the time came, she'd say yes to all of it, to the house, to everything having a house together means. She's just as hungry for something beyond goodnight kisses and promises to see the other one tomorrow. None of it makes sense.

"What are you trying to tell me? That you can't ignite the Promethean Flame because you're afraid to take the plunge and move in with me?"

"It's not about moving in. It's everything."

Everything. He can't look at her, not yet. Glancing up at the sky, his heel bounces, debating whether to walk away before she breaks his heart. Again. He won't blame her. If making her happy was all he wanted in the first place, he can't very well blame her without becoming the most pompous of hypocrites, but it can anger him. Those walls of hers. They—she-had worked so hard in keeping them down and now it was starting all over again. She'll fight true happiness like she always does and he'll have to start all over again—partners in saving the town, friends, taking the slow and steady approach to everything...do they really want two different things? Is he so set on taking another step toward...toward... Bloody fool, spit it out if you want it so badly...marriage and a lifetime together. Does she really not want it?

"When I told you I loved you back in Storybrooke, it was because I thought I was never going to see you again. It was the same way with Neal. I could only admit my true feelings when I thought I was losing him—and you."

I am not Neal. He'll bellow it at the top of his lungs if he says it out loud, so he curls his tongue up to the roof of his mouth. He needs to respond.

"Well, I guess it's even worse than I thought. You can't even see any future at all with me."

"That's not it. Don't you get it?"

No. Not really. But he knows how to get it. Turning back toward her, he reads her face, sees the tenderness and the love she's only just now getting used to displaying all over it. It's so much more open than it used to be, and it's not that or he himself that frightens her. That's a victory all on its own, but then what does scare her so much?

"I'm afraid because I do want a future with you."

"You do?" He raises his eyebrow. She doesn't lie, never plays games. If she says she wants a thing, she wants it.

"Yes. And the minute you take away the Darkness, that future begins." Ah. That's all those negligent foster parents and blind dalliances talking—making her believe she'll ruin the whole thing, that he'll regret it, that she'll never be enough for him. "I know it sounds crazy."

"It doesn't sound crazy at all, Emma. It sounds like music to this pirate's ears. You just have to trust me. The future's nothing to be afraid of." It's a lot to lose, more than either of them have ever had, but that's what makes it so exciting. Trust, faith in each other, are the only things that will keep it from being overwhelming. Oh, he understands. He'll have to remind himself of his own words when he asks her to marry him or when they're doing nothing more than painting a wall in the house. She nods and kisses him, so he responds back. He understands, will place his trust in her, will have faith if she will do the same. He loves her.

Opening his eyes, the corner of one catches a flash of orange. The flame. She's completely ready to do the same.

"See?" Nodding his head at the flame, he gazes into her eyes and finds them softening even more than they were before, her smile one of relief and then her true smile, the natural, truly happy one. Maybe he won't ask her to marry him after all. Maybe she'll ask him.


Holding hands, they return to the diner with the dagger and the flame, the rest of the blade guarded by the others. There's a serenity about Swan now as she flashes him a few coy smiles here and there. Nothing panicked, nothing quivering when she greets Merlin and her parents and sets the three pieces to the puzzle on a table. Standing behind it with her fingertips pressed against the table, she kinks her eyebrow up at Merlin.

"Shall we?"

"The flame is lit," Merlin remarks, regarding her with some pride.

"The flame is lit and I'm not afraid."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Then it's time to destroy the Darkness once and for all." He opens the box where the flame still burns, waiting for them. The air hums with magic, Swan somehow gathering the light from the flame to her until it shapes itself into a glowing orb. He takes a step forward and she gives him another smile, a quick one since she focuses so hard on the ball of light, her eyebrows nearly coming together. Clenching it in her hands, she lets it go and it hovers right in front of her, eager to obey. Taking hold of both blades, she lifts them up to it, the ends meeting. The light must be able to fuse them together. A dazzling sight. Blinking a few times, he needs to look away from it for a moment. It still doesn't have her magic's signature scents, but there's a heat creeping up on him. Well, it is a flame. One should expect it to be hot. Stepping back a fraction, he looks back up and staggers. Just turning his neck dizzies him.

The room appears to be spinning, and it's not a result of the magic, for everyone else remains stationary. Blinking rapidly again, they're nothing but blurs.

"Bloody hell..."

"Hook, what's wrong?" David asks. He's not sure how to answer that, not sure how to explain it, but it feels like the stinging from before in the woods has returned. In full force. The side of his neck burns. Swallowing a cry, his hand flies up to the spot where he'd been nicked. Wet. Wet?

"He's bleeding!" Snow shouts.

There are some odd, echoing sounds of chairs being knocked over and people rustling about, but they sound like they are coming from the other end of a long tunnel. He needs to brace himself against something if he's to stay upright. Taking a step toward the table, his body misses it and crashes to the floor. It's a dull thud, the scorching, cinching pain from his neck. Rolling on his back, he shivers, suddenly afraid to take his hand off the cut.

"Killian?" Bending over him, Emma checks him over as she did before, her fingers burrowing underneath his. "No!"

"When did that happen?" Regina gasps.

"It was Excalibur. But it was just a small cut. I healed it!"

"I'm afraid it only seemed that way," he hears Merlin from somewhere. Always selfish when it comes to information... "Excalibur was forged to cut immortal ties. A wound from it cannot be healed."

"What? There has to be something we can do—that she can do!" Snow...he thinks it's Snow...

"Even Emma's power isn't strong enough. Nor is my own."

He's going to die. The pain's going to stop...

"Killian, you have to hold on! I can't lose you!"

He should move his hand, hold hers with it, but it feels far away from him. His legs do, too. Every muscle feels torn from his skin, leaving the rest of him too heavy to move.

"It's all right," he tries to tell her, but even speaking leaves him cringing and gasping for breath. "Emma, it's all right."

"No. Please, no. Don't leave me. You have to stay. You have to stay! Come on, Killian! What about our future together?" Her hand goes from his cheek to his throat to his shoulder...he loses track of it.

Their future together...

"Our future is now," he manages to say. Summoning enough strength to lift his head so he can see her clearly, he hopes he can keep it up. "Reunite the blades. So I can see them before I go."

Maybe he only wished he'd said it. Emma looks like he just spoke to her in a foreign tongue.

"No!"

"No?" he hears someone, maybe Regina.

"I'm not going to let him die when I know there's a way to save him!"

"Emma," Regina murmurs, coming into view. They're standing over him, everyone. He's not alone. He's not staring at the Crocodile's corpse. "Merlin said it. There's nothing you can do."

"That's what he said, but it's not true, is it?" Her hair brushes his mouth when she turns to Merlin. That, he can feel. Soft. Always soft. "You told me how powerful I am. Let's use that power. I-I can use the Promethean Flame to release you from Excalibur, and then I can use it to tether Hook's life to it instead. It could save him."

"Emma, you know what that could do."

"Create another Dark One."

"It will multiply the Darkness so that it cannot be destroyed, not without you paying the steepest of prices."

He tries to shake his head, but she isn't looking at him. There. There she is. Stop fighting it, he orders himself. Would you rather be the Dark One? Take one last look at her and go. It's a thousand times better than watching the Crocodile take his last breath, isn't it?

"It will be your final step into the dark."

His eyes start to roll back, but her fingernails dig into his shoulder, hard enough to put some life back into him. Like when she runs her fingers through his hair. Like when she captures Shadows and rewrites enchanted books.

"I don't care what happens to me," she whispers.

"Emma, wait," David tries.

"Please, listen. You can't!" Snow whispers back to her. Listen to them, love. They love you. You didn't want to be the Dark One. Neither do I.

"Emma, your parents are right." He must be delirious, for it sounds like Regina's crying.

"If you could have saved Daniel or Robin...look how far you were willing to go, how far you pushed me to save him! I'm not going to lose Killian! I won't let anyone stop me!"


He feels the sun on his face, soft blades of grass tickling the back of his neck, and he can smell the flowers now surrounding them, their meadow. But every sense blurs. Even sight, everything around Emma closing in on her until she's little more than a white blur, the soft green of her eyes and her warm fingers interlocked with his all of life that remains.

It has to be this way. The other way...becoming...he has to tell her no before his brain begins to die, too.

"Emma," he grunts.

"Killian, you're going to be okay," she murmurs, choking on every word.

"No. Please. You have to let me go." Even bloody speaking strains him, leaving him almost gasping for air. Her hand flies to his cheek as he wonders if he's stifling his tears or not. He doesn't want to die, never has...has anyone? Open your eyes, he orders himself, look at her. It has to be enough, and it's more than he ever thought he would have. The Crocodile would have been the last thing he would have seen if he had never met her. This way...this way at least he can look at someone who loves him.

"I don't want to pay this price. I don't-I don't want to become that."

"You won't," she promises him, her face nearing his, lips inches away from his. "You can fight the Darkness. I can help you! We can do it together!"

He can't entertain the thought. Even if he wanted to, his mind... Only a resounding "no" swims around in the dimming space, "Emma" and "I love you" its only companions. Fight? He's laying here dying and she's the Savior. Only one of them was ever meant to win their fights.

"I'm not as strong as you are." The backs of her fingers rub up and down his cheek. "Or Merlin. I'm weak. The things I've-I've done... I've succumbed to darkness before in my life. And it took centuries..." Gods, he must have enough strength left to at least beg. Is he this worthless? To just be another person who's left her after surviving all this time to let some cut destroy him? Willing himself to finish, he sucks in as much air as he can. "To push it away. I don't know if I can do it again."

Her eyes vanish from view, leaving only the tiniest submissive smile he's ever seen on her, maybe not even meant for him but for fate or something like it to waltz in and change everything.

"But our future!" she pleads as something wet splatters onto his face. One of her tears.

"I'll just be happy knowing that-that you have one," he says to the hazy pattern of dots before his eyes, an agonizing heat closing up his throat. He knows his body must be seizing one last time, his heart and lungs in their own death throes. Centuries overdue, he thinks, trying to squeeze his Swan's hand tighter before he leaves her.

She'll be all right.

I love you.

It has to be this way.

It's more than you ever dreamed you would have, mate.

Gods, but he fears forging ahead without her. He's afraid.

As the encroaching darkness devours him, an alien thought strikes him, one that sounds more and more accurate with each passing second—he's never sounded so weak.


A/N: It's going to be okay, everybody. We're in for some angsty, angry, dark chapters, but it's going to be okay. 5A was a dark, scary roller coaster and, much like 3A, I have full faith it will be followed by something just a tad lighter, with the conflict a tad more on the external side, and an amazing, wonderful payoff. Coming up? Willofthewisp parts her hair the other way and lets the Darkness take over.