Here it is, the final chapter. Thank you to everyone that followed or commented or made it a favorite, it definitely gave me the motivation to keep working on it. A big thank you to my sister, who lets me use her as a sounding board and gives me feedback via emojis.

The characters belong to Kitsis and Horowitz. Let's go play, one last time.

Emma rolled over and tried to fall back asleep but the cheerful twittering of birds outside her window were preventing that. The grey light filtering through her curtains let her know it was early morning, early enough to garner an extra hour or so of sleep. She pulled her blankets over her head in a vain attempt to block out the light and the noise. It had been a long weekend and she felt she had earned a lazy Monday morning. The tickling feeling she had at the back of her throat had nothing to do with it.

Laying in her bed, buried under the covers, she tried to clear her mind in an attempt to drift back to sleep. Despite her best attempts her thoughts kept drifting back to the night she had almost lost Killian. It had easily been one of the scariest and most emotional nights of her life, right up there with Henry's birth. She hadn't been able to breathe until Whale had turned off the heart monitor and told them that Killian seemed fully recovered.

Emma had sagged back in the chair in relief. She barely listened to Whale as he instructed Killian to try to get some sleep, that they would run a few tests in the morning, but in all likelihood they would be releasing him the next day. Her earlier laughing fit had brought tears to her eyes but she didn't realize they were coursing down her cheeks until Betty was holding a tissue box under her nose.

Whale squeezed her shoulder gently as she dabbed at the tears. With a gentle reminder to get some rest he and Betty left quietly. As silence descended on the room Emma couldn't seem to stem the flow of tears. It was as though a dam had cracked but instead of releasing a flood only a slow but steady leak was possible. She was so preoccupied with trying to get her emotions under control that she jumped when Killian's hand grabbed the tissue from her own.

"Are you okay, love?" He asked with concern as he gently wiped the tears away.

"I should be asking you that," she answered with a hitch in her voice.

"Aye, but I am, as ever, the gentleman and seeing you in distress is an unhappy sight," he tipped her chin back so her eyes would meet his. "It appears that I'm fully recovered. Nothing more to worry about."

Her eyes flitted back and forth between his. She wasn't looking for a lie, her super power was quiet, she was taking him in. The spark of mischief had returned, causing the seemingly impossible blue of his irises to dance with mirth. As he watched her scrutinizing him his gaze softened and she caught a glimpse of what she was looking for. The yet unnamed, all encompassing thing that he tried to keep shuttered from her view. It wasn't the time to drag it into the light but all Emma needed was to see that it was still there, unharmed.

She shifted her gaze away from his in an attempt to gain control of her emotions. Things between them had been going so well she had begun to dream of possibilities that hadn't crossed her mind since Neal. Back then their on the run life had been a shadow darkening the edges of her hopes. With Killian all she could see was the light and it scared her with how easy, joyful, and freeing it could be. Her urge was to pull back, build up her walls, and make a joke but she fought against it.

Her eyes found his again. "Thank you, Killian."

"For what, love," he asked, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"You survived, like I asked you to," she said simply, leaning into his hand that had come to a rest on her cheek.

Killian looked thunderstruck. His mouth dropped open slightly and his eyes widened in shock. Emma saw confusion flit across his features as he tried to piece together what happened after he took the potion.

"Swan, is there something about my recovery that you've neglected to share?"

"It didn't involve sacrificing my powers if that's what you're worried about," she winced slightly as the defensive remark left her lips. Taking in a breath she tried again. "You had some sort of seizure or something, I'm not really sure. The bandages on your hand are from you smashing the bottle when it happened."

He pulled his hand away from her to inspect the damage for himself. She mourned the loss of contact but it made telling him what happened next easier to bear.

"When it was over your heart had stopped. You… you died," her voice came out as a whisper. He must have heard her because his movements stilled and he stared unflinchingly into her eyes.

"Emma..."

"I didn't stop to think," she spoke over him, the words pouring out of her. "I just… I couldn't lose you like that, not if I could do something about it. I knocked everyone out. I had to focus. There were too many distractions and you weren't moving. You weren't moving."

Killian had reached out to calm her down and Emma grabbed hold of his hand as if it was a life preserver keeping her afloat. He made no complaint about pain, gripping her hand as tightly as she was his. When she made no indication of continuing he tugged gently but insistently until she joined him on the bed. She wasn't crying but she knew the tears were close to falling.

Curling into him she focused on the calming effect his hand had as he idly traced random patterns on her skin. He wasn't pushing her for answers, letting her tell him in her own time and in her own way. Slowly but without hesitation Emma told him the rest, except for hearing his phantom words of encouragement. What had happened was hard enough to believe without that detail added. Killian listened patiently and when she was finished he tightened his hold on her and kissed her forehead reverently.

"Well, Swan, it appears you're upholding up your reputation as the Savior," he mumbled into her hair.

"And you're keeping up yours as a survivor."

"Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to make it a fortnight before we'll need them again, love."

Emma hummed in agreement but found herself too comfortable to say much else. The crisis was over and Killian was a little worse for wear but she was finally convinced that he was going to be alright. Kicking off her boots she forced her way under the blankets, not once breaking contact with Killian. As she closed her eyes she felt Killian press a kiss into her hair as he settled in beside her.

"Emma?"

Opening her eyes Emma had a moment of disorientation. The room was filled with the warm, mellow glow of midmorning sun and Mary Margaret was leaning over her with a look of concern on her face. It took several seconds for her to realize that she was not in the hospital but back in her own room. She had fallen asleep lost in the memories of explaining things to Killian. Looking at her alarm clock on the table by her bed she was stunned to see that it was nearly nine thirty.

"Emma are you feeling okay?" Mary Margaret asked as she sat down on the bed.

"Yeah," Emma answered in a gravelly voice. She sat up but immediately regretted it when her head started pounding and her throat felt as though she had swallowed ground glass. "Or maybe not."

She had thought the headache she had woken up with the day before had been a result of stress and two days of broken rest. A nurse had offered her aspirin that she gladly accepted after noticing her wincing slightly as she discharged Killian from the hospital with instructions to get more rest. After getting Killian back to his room at Granny's and making him promise to try and sleep it had been early evening. The pressure in her head had begun to increase and it had taken all her concentration to drive her bug back to the loft to collapse in her bed. If the time on the clock was right she had been asleep for almost fourteen hours.

Dropping her head back on her headboard she closed her eyes and hoped the vise gripping the sides of her head would disappear. She felt a cool hand press on her forehead before checking each of her cheeks in turn. Mary Margaret drew in a hissing breath through her teeth before getting up from the bed. Emma heard her moving through the apartment, opening doors and running water before she felt a cool washcloth drape over her brow.

"Looks like you caught Killian's flu," Mary Margaret said quietly. "I've got to get to the office but I text your father letting him know you won't be going in to the station today."

Emma opened her eyes and glanced gratefully at her mother. Unlike other aspects of her life Emma didn't try to deny when she was sick. One attempt at trying to collar a mark while she had a cold had taught her that. Mary Margaret had also brought up a glass of water which Emma drank greedily, finding a temporary respite from the burning sandpaper feel of her sore throat.

"Thanks. You should go, don't want to be late for whatever meeting you're trying to avoid," she said holding the washcloth in place as she laid back down.

"I'm not avoiding it, just casually putting it off until I have no choice but to go," Mary Margaret said primly as she adjusted the blankets around Emma's shoulders. "Besides, any decisions I make will probably be overturned once Regina is back in office. I'm just pretending to be useful until then."

Emma laughed which quickly turned into a painful cough. Groaning she closed her eyes. Despite the hours of sleep she already had her body was ready for more.

"I don't have any medicine here but there's aspirin for the pain and to help with the fever," Mary Margaret rattled a bottle Emma had missed earlier. "I'll tell David to pick up some medicine on his way home. He should be here after he finishes whatever he's doing at the station."

"He doesn't need to do that," Emma said, protesting weakly. She looked up at her mother and saw the stubborn set of her face. "Okay, fine. Tell him I want soup from Granny's too, chicken noodle, even if it's not on the menu. If she can make it for Killian then she can sure as hell make it for me too."

Mary Margaret bit her lip to keep from laughing. She shook the aspirin bottle in Emma's direction one last time, a silent order to take some. Emma sat up slightly and held her hand out for the bottle. After fumbling with the cap for a moment she shook out the pills and finished the glass of water taking them.

Lying back down she closed her eyes and heard Mary Margaret move around the apartment once again. The noises faded into the background as Emma let sleep pull her under once again.

"Swan?"

As she swam up into consciousness Emma idly wondered if she'd ever wake up normally again. Her throat was still on fire, the dull pounding of her head sluggishly keeping tempo with her heartbeat, and the rest of her body had decided to join the party with a symphony of bone deep aches. It took every ounce of effort to open her eyes and focus on the face hovering over hers.

"Emma, love, can you hear me?" Killian's face swam in and out of focus with a look of concern that mirrored her mother's from earlier.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," she mumbled, laughing to herself as she closed her eyes again.

"Bloody hell," Killian cursed . "Emma, I need you to wake up. Can you do that for me, love?"

She felt his hand slide under her shoulders and prop her up. Opening her eyes she could only see Killian's left shoulder but felt him maneuvering pillows behind her back. When he gently lowered her back down she was left in a sitting position staring up into his worried eyes.

"Bad form, Captain," Emma said petulantly but finally waking up. "It's not nice to wake a lady from her beauty rest."

"Resting for beauty's sake is unnecessary on your part, Swan," Killian said, sounding relieved. "I come bearing fizzing elixirs and a bowl of Granny's soup."

"My hero," she noticed the way he stiffened but decided not to comment on it. "Wait, why are you here? David was supposed to be playing delivery boy."

"I was hoping you would want to join me at Granny's for lunch but my calls to you remained unanswered. I elected to stop by the station, thinking you were occupied with sheriff duties. David then informed me that you were, in fact, home sick. It didn't take long for me to persuade him to leave the delivering of goods up to me."

Emma smiled, trying to imagine the silent test of wills between David and Killian. Figuring it had probably been a close call she sat up carefully minding the timpani concert in her head. Her hand pressed to her temple and immediately snagged itself in her hair. She belatedly realized she probably had horrible bed head and her flannel pajamas weren't the most flattering pieces of clothing in her wardrobe. As casual as possible she tried to flatten down her hair but caught Killian watching her with an amused look and gave it up as a bad job.

"Are you going to keep staring at the rat's nest on my head or are you going to give me the medicine?"

"Aye, love," he said grinning. "Although, I'm afraid I left it downstairs when I came to check on you."

"Well, downstairs it is then."

Every step felt made her feel like her bones were made of glass but she stopped to grab a change of clothes from her dresser before she gingerly descended into the main part of the loft. Sitting on the island in the kitchen was a white paper bag with what she assumed was the medicine and soup. Peeking into it she was pleased to see that she was right and that Granny had also sent along a piece of pie.

Killian had followed her quietly downstairs keeping a comforting hand on her lower back. She motioned for him to sit at the island while she went about preparing her medicine and pulling out the appropriate silverware. The simple domesticity of it brought a smile to her face despite the minute agony she was feeling. After waiting the approximate amount of time for the tablets to dissolve Emma tossed back the glass of medicine in one gulp.

"Do you think you can entertain yourself for fifteen minutes?" she asked as she set the glass down on the counter.

"I can think of many things to do in fifteen minutes," Killian answered with a lift of his eyebrows. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm going to take a quick shower and wash this weekend off of me. Hopefully I'll feel more myself when I get out."

She waited for a remark or innuendo but none came. "Do what you need to do, love. I can wait."

With the feeling he was talking about more than just her shower she took her clothes into the bathroom. Exactly fifteen minutes later she emerged wearing a pair of yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt feeling marginally better as she wrung her hair out in a towel. Killian didn't appear to have moved from his spot at the island but the book in his hand indicated otherwise.

"What's that?" she asked sitting down slowly on the stool next to him. The medicine was working but she still felt out of sorts.

"A book that Belle had mentioned and that your parents had in their bookcase," he said, turning the book so that Emma could read the cover.

Emma laughed out loud when she saw that it was actually her copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. It was one of the few possessions she had kept with her in all her years of moving from place to place. She thought it fitting that he was reading it in more ways than one.

"It's a good book, one of my favorites. I think you'll like it," she said running a finger along the spine.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked as he set the book aside and looked her over.

"A little. I don't feel any worse at least," she said standing up and draping the towel over the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I am hungry though."

"That's more than I could say the last time we attempted to share a meal," Killian remarked as he pulled the containers from the bag. "If I remember correctly you weren't that interested in eating anything either."

"Watching you suffer can do that to my appetite," she shot back. Immediate regret flowed through her and she looked at him unhappily. "Sorry, I'm still processing the whole thing."

"As am I, love," he said softly. "I never did properly thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving my life, for making sure I kept my word. Seems as if we're destined to pull each other out of one bind or another."

"There are worse destinies out there. Let's just hope saving each other isn't the only thing we have to look forward to in the future," she said it lightly but placed her hand in his to assure him that she had a deeper meaning. "So, were you able to convince Granny to make chicken noodle?"

Killian picked up on her attempt to change the mood. "Aye, the soup of the day was something called 'chilli' but she seemed to have anticipated your needs. I had barely said the words before she was setting the order down on the counter in front of me. She wouldn't even accept any form of payment."

"My dad must have called in the order," she said as she grabbed the container of soup and headed toward the couch in the living room. "And he got her to put it on the sheriff's tab too or she likes you a lot more than we suspected."

"I told you, Swan, she cannot resist my alluring charm," he quipped as he sat on the couch with the container of pie.

"Hmph, it's going to your head if you ask me," she mumbled as she set down the soup on the coffee table.

After digging out her laptop from under a pile of clothes she had been meaning to fold and hunting down a dvd set that Henry had put back in the wrong place she joined Killian on the couch. Inserting the first disk she set the laptop on the table and grabbed her soup, leaning into Killian's side.

"So what story are we going to watch now? Not another one of those moving illustrations that completely contradict what actually happened?" Killian asked grimacing.

"They're called cartoons and no not one of those. Whenever I get sick I like to watch the Back to the Future trilogy. It's a comfort thing," she said shrugging self consciously as the movie started.

"If it brings you comfort, love, then who am I to protest?" He said amiably as he popped open the lid on his pie.

They ate quietly, except for when Emma had to pause it when Killian recognized the name Marty McFly and made her explain that was what she had been talking about on their trip to the past. He quickly lost himself in the movie, the novelty of film still enthralled him to no end. She ended up falling asleep halfway through the second one, with Killian's arm around her shoulders and his hand playing with her hair.

When she woke up Doc and Marty were in the old west using a hoverboard to rescue Clara. Emma was mildly surprised that she had slept through almost two of the movies but she was more surprised that Killian had figured out how to switch out the dvds and start the third one himself. She turned her head to tell him as much but saw that he had fallen asleep as well. Smiling to herself she settled in to watch the end.

Twenty minutes later Mary Margaret and David entered the loft with Neal in tow to find Emma and Killian both asleep on the couch. Mary Margaret draped a blanket over them, closed the laptop, and gently pushed David back out of the apartment. Neither one of the sleeping forms on the couch stirred until much later, when Emma dragged a half asleep Killian up to her much more comfortable and much bigger bed. She felt better the next day, which had nothing to do with waking up in Killian's arms. Not at all.