„Is that all, sir?" the man behind the counter asked.

Killian squinted at the booze bottles behind the man but then he cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"No, just the coke, please."

"That's 1.35."

Killian paid his soda and left the gas station. When he arrived at his car he sat down wearily, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his right hand. He left the door open for he hoped for a fresh breeze to cool the air a little bit. Killian inhaled deeply, his eyes opening slowly, unfocused and tired. He took a sip of his coke, his thoughts still running wild. What exhausted him the most, he realized, was that he couldn't shut the voices down, for just a second. He didn't have a peaceful day and a resting night in over two weeks and the more time passed, the more desperate he felt. He had hoped that the ghosts would leave him alone once he returned the book, but it only got worse. Now that he had met Emma, everything had changed, everything became a little more real. Now it weren't only his nightmares that haunted him; what was far worse than that was this uncertainty, or no, he corrected himself in his mind, it was the… possibility of truth. It scared him that he even gave it a chance, that he considered August's words as possible…

Killian's eyes went to the passenger seat as the reflection of something caught his attention. August's teddy bear looked at him, the black round eyes shining in the sun. Killian smiled. When he grabbed the toy his smile faded, his rationality taking over again.

'He's just a kid,' he realized, 'He created his own reality.' Killian pitied the boy; he had felt a similarly deep connection to August as he had felt to Henry and it genuinely pained him that he had to leave him at the foster home. There was nothing he could do for him. Killian pictured the boy's face when he drove off, sadness in his big eyes. His words echoed in his ears –

"Save the savior. Save us all."

Killian felt a pinch in his chest, his fingers convulsing around the fluffy toy. Then, suddenly his puzzled eyes went down to face the bear. A long-desired breeze finally stroke his forehead as his brows furrowed. Something felt oddly strange about this teddy. His fingers cautiously squeezed it for a second time and there, it happened again. Killian could feel it, there was no doubt. Something hard was hidden inside of the bear. It could be a stone or a coin roll or… Killian's iris widened as his heart skipped a beat. He tried to rip off the teddy bear's head, but it was a hard task for a one-handed man. He considered using his teeth but he figured it would be too messy and he wasn't enjoying the thought of having actual fluff inside of his mouth. Then his eyes caught his key.

'That's it,' he thought, a grin upon his face. He stuck the toy between his legs, his prosthesis holding it in position while his other hand used the keys to unseam the stitches that connected the head to the body. It took a little effort but in the end Killian managed to behead the bear. He sighed deeply, part of him being proud that he did this all by himself, mostly though, because he was intrigued to find out what was inside of the bear. The fingers of his right hand slowly went to the neck of the toy, pushing away the white cotton to reveal the secret. Killian could see something brown but he couldn't figure out what it was. He pulled at it a little and quickly he figured it was cork. Killian felt his heart against his chest. He took another deep breath, his fingers now deeper inside of the teddy bear. He felt a cool and smooth surface and the more he fumbled the more certain he became about the mystery beneath his fingertips. Finally he grabbed the object, first pinching it with his index finger and his thumb and then carefully pulling it out of the fluffy torso to expose it at last. Killian's mouth gapped. He was holding a tiny blue-colored bottle… was this… but it couldn't be… but why would August give him a teddy bear that had a tiny bottle inside of it? This couldn't be a coincidence, the boy did this on purpose. He wanted Killian to find this bottle. No, Killian was sure, this was – this had to be –

"The memory potion."

-.-.-.-

It was a long drive home. A drive filled with it-can't-bes and it-must-bes, with whys and why-nots, with hows and I-don't-knows, with yeses and with nos. When he finally arrived in New York City and parked his car in front of his apartment, Killian didn't know whether he was coming or he was going. An endless amount of questions circled his mind, tangling up and making it impossible for him to think straight. Questions and questions and questions, but no answers. There were only possibilities and to even think about them overwhelmed him like a giant wave deluging the lonely shore.

Nothing made sense anymore. Killian's entire world felt upside down and he didn't know what to do.

He felt like losing his mind, step by step. And about what? A bottle. A tiny little bottle that a stranger gave him. A child. Why was he even freaking out about this? It was nothing but a game, a prank by a kid. He had to calm down. He had to find back again.

Killian closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. At first he heard nothing. Then the usual New York City background noise started to blend into his awareness again. He took another deep breath and there was still nothing but the sound of the city. Killian couldn't believe it; he shut down the voices. But just as a smile started to form upon his lips, he saw Emma's face in front of his inner eye; her blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight, her eyes gentle and kind. Then they started to change, looking at him sadly, desperately. As the sun turned into the moon and Emma's hair appeared silver in the dull light of the night, he started to hear Henry's voice, like an echo in the back of his mind.

"All of this is real."

Then August started to speak.

"It is your destiny."

Henry again.

"You are the key...the k e y…"

August.

"Find the savior, make her believe."

Henry.

"You're going to believe it."

August.

"One more key…"

Henry.

"But then I met y o u..."

Both.

"You're Killian."

"Save the savior."

"The key."

"Killian Jones."

"Save us all."

"… Killian…"

"…Only y o u..."

"… Killian…"

"… Killian…"

"… Killian…"

His eyes opened in bewilderment, his iris contracted, his mouth dry. Killian wasn't able to think about his actions, all he did was function in that very moment. He mechanically opened the door of his car, closed it behind him and entered the building. He took the stairs rather than using the elevator and when he reached his floor he went straight to his apartment. But before he even reached it, he paused when passed by Mrs. Rooney's home. Killian stood still for a moment, still following his intuition. Then he turned around, knocking at her door.

He heard Murdock barking and for a second he thought he could smell salt somewhere in the air. Mrs. Rooney opened the door, greeting him with a smile.

"Oh what a pleasant surprise."

"'Evening, Mrs. Rooney."

"How do you do, Mr. Jones." Killian blinked.

"I'm fine… thanks…"

"You're just right for the five o'clock tea, my dear, come, come," her waving hand invited him inside.

"I didn't want to bother you,"

"Oh don't be ridiculous, just take a seat…" Killian turned left, where the library was,

"… in the living room, I'll join you in a second." Bloody hell, he thought, this wasn't exactly fortunate. Sighing deeply, he took a step towards the living room where Murdock waited for him. He could hear Mrs. Rooney preparing the tea in the kitchen and he knew it would take her some time. Killian bit his lip, balancing his reasons in his mind. He decided that he had to take the risk. He turned on his heels, sneaking to the library on tiptoes. When he reached the door, Murdock was by his side, waving with his tail. Killian put a finger on his lips, shushing at him. The dog barked, telling his friend that he understood. Killian shook his head, laughing quietly. Then he opened the door to the library. As he went inside, his eyes started to search. There was only one book he wanted to find. And there it was, just as before, lying on the top of several other books that were all pilled up on the little brown table. Killian almost ran to it, grabbing the book he was seeking. Then he searched for the letter "K" and when he found his own name, he felt like drowning in the cold, wide sea.

"Killian, Irish, anglicized version of the name Cillian. Cill meaning "church" and Ian being the Gaelic version of "John" creates the composition of "Church of John." Saint John is known as "the disciple whom Jesus loved". He was especially beloved of the Savior for his sacrificial love."

The. Savior.

Killian had to read the last part over and over again. He felt like fainting, his lungs unable to work.

His name… was this why August had told him he was the key? That only he could make… the savior believe? That it was his… destiny? But how did August know about this? About his name? He called Emma the savior, did this mean that him, Killian, was…

When he heard the clinking of tea cups, Killian shut the book and sneaked out of the library. Standing in the hallway now, his hand reached for the knob of the front door when his eyes met with Mrs. Rooney's.

"I'm terribly sorry, I have to leave."

"But what about tea, dear?"

"Another time, I promise."

"But…"

Killian could hear Murdock's barking as he ran down the stairs. He felt bad for leaving Mrs. Rooney this abruptly, but there was only one thing he could think about right now:

What if?

What if, all of this was true. What if, this, his life, was nothing but a lie. What if, he really had to save Emma.

He didn't know what this savior-talk was all about, but there was only one way to find out, he figured.

When he reached his car, he opened the door and sat down in a rush. He grabbed the blue little bottle and stared at it, determination in his eyes. What was the worst that could happen, anyways, he thought. If this didn't kill the kid, it wasn't going to kill him either. And if this was nothing but a big joke, then at least he would know it for definite, after he had drank the potion.

No, Killian had enough of this game. He had to be certain. He had to be sure.

He removed the cork from the bottle, swallowing hard. Then he moved the little flask to his mouth, the cool glass touching his skin, as August's voice appeared in his head again.

"Save the savior."

Killian blinked. He stared into the distance for a while before he removed the bottle from his lips. Killian remembered his first dream… Emma begging him to find her... to save her.

What if, he thought, all of this was true. And what if he drank the only potion that existed? What if he remembered… how would he be able to make Emma remember, as well? Could he really risk this? He couldn't save Emma in his nightmares, but maybe… maybe he could save her in real life. Even the possibility of this made him feel stronger. He had to try. He owed it to Henry and he owed it to August. But first and foremost, he owed it to Emma.

-.-.-.-

Three little knocks. Emma almost missed it while she was preparing dinner for Henry, Walsh and herself. It had been a while since he had joined them for supper.

'Maybe he's early,' she thought, walking to the entrance of the apartment. When she opened the door, Killian was standing in front of her. His smile turned into an apologetic one when he noticed the surprise on her face.

"Killian…"

"Hello, Emma," he paused, "Please excuse my unannounced visit,"

"Visit?" Emma rose a brow but Killian only smiled some more, scratching his ear.

"Don't worry, I won't take much of your time… but, could we talk?" Emma blinked, not quite sure what Walsh would say about Killian's impromptu visit but then she decided that she was curious about what he had to tell her.

"Sure," she said, "Come in."

Killian walked inside of the kitchen, taking a seat at one of the chairs around the big wooden table. Emma joined him, sitting right across from him.

"So, what is it that you want to tell me?" she asked. Killian gapped his mouth, but nothing came out. Emma's eager look didn't help to find his voice but then he finally started speaking.

"You remember the book that Henry gave me?" Emma nodded.

"Well, there's a little detail I didn't tell you about it." She raised an eyebrow now, not sure where this was leading to.

"Henry got the book as a present. A boy named August has given it to him."

"And?" Emma grew impatient.

"It was him who told Henry that the stories were real. It was also him who told him that apparently I was the key to save you… us all." Emma shook her head, bafflement all over her face.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know-I mean, I didn't know…" he sighed, "When we met this morning I didn't know any further. In fact, when you asked me to have coffee with you, I was already about to leave. To find him."

"Because my son told you he believed in fairy tales? Seriously?" Killian sighed again. This wasn't going to be easy, he figured.

"No, it was more than that… I… I've been seeing you in my dreams." Emma moved her head a little backwards, not sure what to think of this.

"Don't- don't take this the wrong way. It was very strange, it started to happen before I even knew you. You appeared in my dreams and begged me to find you."

"Okay, first of all, that's super creepy. And secondly, do you really expect me to believe this?"

"I… don't know, Emma. I just, I'm struggling with this for over two weeks now and I simply need you to know, that's all." Killian looked at her with great sincerity and Emma could see that little spark inside of his deep blue eyes, again, the same kind of gleam that she had seen the last time he was in her apartment. Somehow she knew he was genuine and even though he sounded like a crazy person, she wanted to know more about what he had to tell. She nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"Anyways, I couldn't stop thinking about what Henry had told me and about my dreams," Emma crossed her arms across her chest, "and of course, none of it made any sense, I couldn't believe it, either. But then I found my own name and several paintings of my face in the book."

"What, seriously?" Killian nodded. Emma had to stop herself from laughing out loud when she noticed the offended look staring back at her.

"Check it for yourself. Look it up," he challenged her. Emma raised the corner of her lips, accepting the challenge. She stood up from her chair, walking to what Killian assumed was her bedroom and returning with the big brown book in her hands. Then she handed it to Killian, sitting down across from him again.

"Show me," she grinned. Killian raised a brow, returning the grin. Then he opened the book, quickly finding the story about the Jones brothers. Without saying a word, he turned the book around sliding it across the table.

Emma looked down, still smiling and convinced that he was bluffing but then her smile slowly started to fade, her mouth gapping and her eyes widening.

"No way," she whispered, Killian smiling triumphantly. But then she returned her gaze to Killian, uncertainty in it.

"Is this some kinda trick? A sick game you plotted to sneak into our lives?"

"What?" his voice broke, "No, Emma, no, I'm certainly not." She read his face again and she started to suspect that her superpower got weaker as she grew older. But then she decided she believed him, anyways. When Emma looked at him, it felt as if she knew him; it felt as if he was an old friend that she didn't see in a very long time and it freaked her out to feel this way about a person she only knew for two days. But she also knew the kind of people that couldn't be trusted, she knew them just all too well and Killian wasn't one of them. Her gut told her that she shouldn't worry about him yet she couldn't silence her mind that was still suspicious about every single word that he said. He wasn't a liar, though, she was certain of that.

"Then how the hell is this possible?" she asked. Killian shrugged.

"That's what I still couldn't figure out."

"Then tell me what you did figure out."

"Well, to make it short, I found August and I talked to him."

"Where?"

"He's living in Philadelphia, in a foster home." Emma cringed.

"He's an orphan?" Killian nodded.

"That he is. He seemed very… reserved but he's a tough lad." Emma bit her lip in empathy.

"What did he tell you?" Killian swallowed, Emma's eyes locked on his lips.

"He told me… well, he said that his father was stuck in another land and apparently all of us were citizens of a town called Storybrooke but we lost our memories about it and you were some sort of savior and I needed to make you remember again so you could save us all." Emma could see relief on Killian's face when he finished his sentence in one quick breath. She blinked once and then she blinked again before she burst out laughing.

"Are you serious?" she giggled, wiping away a tear with the tip of her finger. Killian couldn't help but join her laugh.

"I know. I know how this all sounds," he smiled at her for a while before he turned serious again, his eyes looking in the depths of her jade eyes.

"It's not like I believed it right away, either."

"Wait, so you wanna tell me, you do believe this stuff?" Killian swallowed… did he?

"Well, it's an 'innocent till proven guilty' situation, I suppose. See, there're just too many things, it can't be all coincidence. I can't eliminate the possibilities anymore, not until I've found some proofs, first." Emma scrutinized him, her brows deeply furrowed.

"And how will you get that proof?" Killian moved his hand to his pocket, revealing a tiny blue bottle. He gently put it on the table, exactly in the middle between him and her.

"What's that?"

"August gave it to me. He calls it a memory potion, he says that's how he remembered everything that has happened to us. Allegedly that's why he remembers and we don't."

"So what, does he have a memory potion manufactory?"

"No, he… he had two bottles, he said he stole it from… nevermind. He drank one, now there's only one more left." Emma smiled.

"And you think drinking this… potion will bring this all to proof?"

"I certainly hope so, yes," Killian shrugged. "The worst that could happen is that nothing happens. And that'd be proof, too; that it was nothing but a lie."

"The worst that could happen is that this," she pointed at the bottle, "is actual poison."

"It's not."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. But it's not." Emma raised both of her eyebrows, not sure if she was rather shocked or stunned by this man.

"That's a lot of faith you have in a kid you barely know."

"Did you ever meet an orphan, Emma?" Emma blinked, not expecting this question.

"I- actually yes. Why?"

"Then you'll know about the lost look in their eyes. They all share it, the look you get when you've been left alone." Yes, Emma knew this look. She wore it in her own eyes.

"What about it?" she tried to play it cool.

"August's eyes… I've met many orphans in my life, but I haven't seen a lad with greater dolor written upon his face. He asked me to bring back his father, it certainly broke my heart. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try the potion."

"Then be my guest, go ahead," Emma pushed the bottle with two of her fingers towards him. Killian shook his head.

"All this talk and now you chicken out?" she winked at him.

"No, it's not that. You… you have to do it."

"What? No, oh no, buddy, I sure as hell do not have to do this. You do it, or you don't. Doesn't matter to me," she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Lass, it's the only way."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. There's only one potion. Just think about it. Consider the what-ifs. What if this is true. What if we all need your help and we waste this thing on me? I- we can't take that risk."

"I'm not gonna do it." Killian sighed deeply.

"Alright. What about this. I try, a single drop. If it won't kill me, or," he grinned, "turn me into a hideous frog, you can at least consider to drink it. What do you say, love?" Emma rolled her eyes.

"God, fine. Just do it then." Killian grabbed the bottle and opened it carefully. Then he dipped his pinky into the potion and moved it to his mouth to place the drop on his tongue. When he swallowed, it felt as if time stood still, their synchronized hearts skipping a beat. Then, finally Killian inhaled deeply, smiling victoriously.

"Still alive," he grinned but Emma only rolled her eyes again. She gazed at him from under her thick lashes, doubt still glistering in it.

"If I drink this…," she said, her voice shaking a little, "and the things you told me are true… how do I know if I even want to remember? Maybe it's good the way it is, I mean I have a good life, I'm happy. I don't know if I'm ready to give this all up."

"Maybe you just have to hope."

"For what?"

"That everything will turn alright. You'll never know what the future brings, but if you have the chance to bring back what's lost from your past, you owe it to yourself to at least try. You just have to trust your gut to do the right thing."

"All of this because a kid said so…" she looked at the bottle, biting her lip. Killian smiled compassionately.

"Sometimes children know more than grown-ups ever could. Someone once told me, growing up means forgetting. I think he was right with that. When we get older we lose the ability to believe, to give things a chance," Killian took her hand now, his eyes soft and kind.

"Maybe we just have to remember." He gently squeezed her hand and she let him. There it was again, the connection she felt whenever he came closer to her. She had felt it several times before and it freaked her out how natural it felt to be near him. But she couldn't deny that it gave her a sense of security and… strength. When Killian was around, Emma felt like anything was possible.

"Take a leap of faith, love. Give it a go."

Emma's eyes fluttered before she released herself from his touch, swallowing hard. Then she took the bottle with shaky hands, Killian's eyes following her moves eagerly. When she brought the bottle to her lips, she closed her eyes tightly, her nervous heart almost crushing her ribcage. She took a deep last breath and then she drank it, all in one go.

It felt like a giant wave breaking inside of her; a white light spreading from her stomach to every single cell of her body. Then she saw images; like frames from a movie they appeared in front of her inner eye, one after the other. Dozens and dozens of frames. She saw Neverland and her parents, she saw Pan and the Lost Boys, she saw Henry and the town line, she saw the curse appearing and the good-byes. And then she saw…

"Hook," she gasped. Killian's eyes widened.

'Bloody Hell,' he thought. 'It was true. It was all true.'