A/N: So I passed 200 followers on the story last night and just... wow, thank you all so much! It's incredible to know that even one person is willing to read something I write, let alone having so many amazing people follow it, and even take the time out of their day to review my work. I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews! You are all such incredibly kind people! I grin like a fool every time I get an email notification. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators. I also hold no claim to Vienna by Billy Joel or Wave Over Wave by Great Big Sea.

"Couch, Jones," Emma instructed once she'd gotten Killian in the door to her house the morning he was released from the hospital.

She had made the decision to have him stay with her until he was better the previous night, something which had shocked Killian and her friends to silence. Even though it was only for a short time, asking someone to move in with her was a step most thought Emma would never reach. And she'd done it completely of her own volition. The doctor had said Killian was capable of staying by himself, with a bit of help through the day but that hadn't been enough for Emma. She told him it was because they both could use the company since neither would be cleared to go back to work for quite some time and were both still recuperating. But honestly- it was because Killian was still having nightmares and Emma couldn't stand the thought of him being alone at his house without anyone to wake him up.

"I'm fine, Swan," Killian answered somewhat petulantly, placing his suitcase on the floor by the door. It hadn't taken that much to convince him to stay with her. Emma was pretty sure he'd sensed how big a step it was for her so hadn't wanted to risk ruining it. But Emma also hoped it was because he didn't want to be alone and that she was his preferred company. She didn't ask though, in case that wasn't the reason. "I don't have to spend my entire day on the couch." Killian stayed by the door, arms crossed. Emma didn't miss that it was his bad hand he had hidden against his chest. Even just with her he got insecure about his injury.

Emma raised an eyebrow at him and moved further into the living room. "I was suggesting the couch so we could finally finish that Harry Potter movie marathon. But I mean, if you want to do jumping jacks the entire time go right ahead." She bent to the television console and slipped the fourth movie into the DVD player. "Just make sure you don't do them in front of the TV screen."

Without looking back at Killian she sat on the couch on the middle cushion and pulled her legs up, stretching them out and wiggling her toes comfortably. She grabbed the remote and started the movie. Killian still hadn't moved so she pushed herself further into the back of the sofa, getting comfortable. As the opening credits started to roll Killian huffed and walked over.

"Scoot," he said, motioning for Emma to move her legs the other direction so he could sit beside her and lean against the opposite sofa arm. Emma just shook her head because he was trying to get her to shift so she wouldn't be beside his injured side. She patted the empty cushion firmly.

"You're standing in my way," Emma told him instead of moving from her spot. She wasn't backing down. If Killian couldn't be comfortable around her then how were they supposed to exist in a relationship where they were declaring their love and supposedly meaning it? Emma wanted to be the person Killian could be himself around, the one he didn't have to worry about. Because she was trying to let herself see him as that for her. She didn't want to be alone in that.

"Please, Swan," Killian asked, just a tinge of desperation to his voice. Emma reached forward and grasped his injured hand gently, making sure to twist her fingers around his two working fingers and gave a little tug. Killian ran his tongue across his lips, watching the spot where their hands connected. Emma gave another slight tug.

"Come on, Jones. We're going to miss Voldemort. The view of the TV isn't as good if we twist the other way. Do you want subpar viewing after we've waited so long to finally do this?" She raised a brow and smirked, trying to copy his favourite facial expression.

Eventually he sighed and sat in the open space beside Emma. "You are way too stubborn," he growled. Emma laughed at his expression, trying to look stern while the corners of his lips twitched. Killian relaxed at the sound and wound his arm around Emma's shoulders, pulling her against his chest. She wiggled until she was propped further up against him, her cheek on his chest, just below his shoulder. Killian tightened his grip and kissed the crown of her head. Emma returned the gesture but kissed his hand instead, just a light brushing of her lips against the puckered skin of his fingertips. Killian sighed at the contact.

As the movie went on Killian seemed to grow more comfortable with Emma's contact and started to run his burned hand up her arm and back down, a slow circuit that Emma wasn't even sure he was aware he was doing. In case he wasn't she didn't move. She didn't want to break what they had. Killian seemed to feel the same way and they both stayed quiet for quite some time.

"I never would have thought, ten years ago, that I'd be doing this now," Killian murmured a while later once the fifth movie was almost finished. Emma shifted so she could look up at him. A look of disbelief was playing over his features.

"Doing what?" Emma asked as his arm tightened around her.

"Sitting here with Emma Swan and being able to do this." Killian kissed the top of her head. "I was sure I'd never see you again when you left."

Emma sat up, pulling away slightly, feeling ashamed at her past behaviours. "I'm sorry I left, Jones."

"No," Killian corrected. "You did what you had to do then. You didn't have an easy life and you were trying to keep it as easy as you could."

"I was scared."

"I know." Killian rewound his arm around Emma and pulled her back against him, sinking them further against the couch. That was the last they spoke before the end of movie eight. It was as if neither one of them wanted to jinx actually being able to finish all the movies, finally, after going through ten years apart, a gunshot wound and a burnt hand. Emma breathed a sigh of relief as the credits rolled on The Deathly Hallows, Part 2 later that night, because they had done it. The fourteen year old best friends had finally found each other again and finished what they had started. Emma was filled with a sense of accomplishment as she pushed herself off the couch and moved to the kitchen, her stomach growling.

It was well past supper time but the movie marathon had held them captive. Neither was going to do anything to risk leaving it unfinished, even if that meant going hungry for a while. Emma set to work in the kitchen, filling a pot with water and setting it to boil before moving to the fridge to root out some peppers and mushrooms. Having practically lived at the hospital for the last little while her food stocks had gotten rather low. Until she got to the grocery store they'd have to settle for lots of carbs, since pasta seemed to be the only thing she had a plentiful amount of.

Sock covered feet padded into the kitchen behind her and she looked up when they stopped. Killian leaned against the doorframe, watching, a thoughtful purse to his mouth. Emma put down the knife she'd been using when he entered, one hand moving the knife, the other holding a yellow pepper against the cutting board.

"Do you think I could help, love?" he asked, waiting tone unsure. His blue eyes flickered towards his hand but before he could say anything else Emma nodded and handed him a wooden spoon.

"Sautee the vegetables. I'm going to go find stuff to make a sauce." Killian took the spoon in his bad hand, pinched in the space between his thumb and forefinger and held against his palm with his two good fingers. He used his good hand to pick up the cutting board and dump the vegetables in the oiled pan Emma set out, only spilling a few pieces onto the floor. Emma smiled, unbelievably proud, but didn't say anything because he needed to realize his disability wasn't a big deal to Emma. Instead of commenting on his work she ducked into the bottom level of the cupboards, looking for some pasta sauce.

"What are we actually having?" Killian asked as he transferred the spoon to his good hand to manoeuvre around the pan.

"Pasta. You okay with that?"

"I'd be okay with just about anything now," Killian replied then grinned when his stomach growled.

"Sorry," Emma apologized as she dumped the bottle of sauce into the pan to simmer with the vegetables. "I'm not a very good host am I?"

Killian caught her wrist and kissed it. "I didn't want to move either, Swan." Emma pulled her hand away and poured some pasta into the boiling water. She leaned against the counter to wait for everything to finish cooking.

Killian moved behind her, set something on the counter and then the kitchen swelled with music from his cellphone. Wave Over Wave, a Great Big Sea song, filled the small room. Killian grasped her wrist and pulled her towards him, a smile lighting up his face.

"Come on, Swan, let's dance." Killian gestured to the space between the counters of her galley-style kitchen grandly, as if it was the fanciest dance floor in the world.

Emma froze. She didn't want to dance. She didn't dance. Not since college. She hadn't even danced at Mary Margaret and David's wedding, despite David asking for her to dance with him. Just the thought of dancing with someone made her want to be sick. "No, I'm good," she said, trying to keep the panic down and hidden from Killian. She shook her arm from his grasp.

Killian seemed to mistake her panic for shyness and stepped forward, holding her waist and pulling her against his strong body. His bad hand circled around her waist and his good hand held her own up in a waltzing position. "Dance with me." When he took the first step backwards everything she'd been trying to force away moments earlier came back in a rush.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing over here?" a guy with shaggy brown hair asked, leaning up against the bar next to Emma. She'd never met him before but he was handsome and the way his eyes appraised her made her stomach clench. She'd never had someone so interested in her since- no, she wouldn't think of that tonight. With that memory pushed away she regarded this man, a man who was watching her as if he actually wanted her.

"Just observing," Emma answered, trying to hide the blush that climbed up her cheeks at his gaze. It was almost animalistic, almost possessive. She moved her head in time with the music, watching as Mary Margaret and David danced a few feet away. Her friend was grinning at David, an outpouring of love coming from her smile. Emma wanted that with someone she realized with a pang of jealousy. She turned back to the mystery man.

"Well how about you dance with me?" Before she could answer the man had her by the hand, grip tight so she couldn't slip out and towed her to the packed dance floor. Emma didn't think about much more that night, instead revelling in the compliments the man sent her way, how he asked repeatedly when he could see her again. It had been one of the only times she had ever felt wanted in her life. It had also been the first time she met Neal.

She broke away from Killian, falling to her knees and skittered away from Killian's feet. She pushed her body against the cupboard door until the metal handle bit into her back painfully. She needed to get away, to find somewhere where the memory of Neal's face wouldn't get to her. Killian crashed down in front of her after flicking off the music but kept a safe distance.

Tears streamed through the fingers Emma had used to cover her face and dripped onto the floor, her uninjured arm braced in front of her as if to ward of a hit. Her whole body was shaking with both the memory and the knowledge that Killian was seeing her like this, stuck between the present and a flashback.

"Hey, Swan," Killian cooed, his voice gentle but concerned. "I'm going to come closer now." Emma whimpered a bit and Killian replied with hushing noises. "It's me, Emma. It's Killian. I won't hurt you." His hand grasped Emma's arm and pulled it down from its defensive position. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you still faced this kind of calibre of flashbacks and that dancing would trigger it." Killian's voice was thick with emotion.

Emma took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on her surroundings. She was in her kitchen, her kitchen, not the one she shared with Neal. She wasn't at that university bar. She was in her own space where no one was going to hurt her. And it hadn't been Neal trying to dance with her. It had been Killian. Killian.

She pulled her fingers from her face. Killian sat in front of her, face pale and concerned, mouth downturned. A gentle smile pushed his lips up when he realized Emma was looking at him. Killian raised his arms in invitation but didn't touch her. She moved forwards and fell into his arms. Killian stroked her back as Emma cried into his shoulder.

After a few minutes Emma pulled back and stood, moving towards the overcooked pasta. She turned the stove off and braced herself, inhaling deeply. Killian's arms had done much to drive away the images of Neal. She had to remember that she trusted Killian, that he would never hurt her. Killian wasn't Neal.

"It should still be edible," Killian said lightly when he joined her at the stove. Emma nodded and ran a hand through her hair, thoughts spinning. She put a hand on Killian's wrist when he went to grab the pot of pasta, stopping him.

"Wait," she told him, pulling out her own phone. She quickly scrolled through it and the kitchen was once again filled with music, this time Vienna by Billy Joel. She set the phone on the counter beside Killian's.

"Dance with me, Jones," she told him quietly. Killian appraised her for a few moments, making sure she could do this without passing out. But he trusted her instincts and she had asked for the dance. Killian resumed the waltz position he had previously been trying to get Emma to match. Emma stepped into his arms, taking his hand in hers, her other hand going to his shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked. Emma nodded, laying her head against his chest. Killian stepped backwards and started to sway them around. Two fingers rubbed a soothing pattern against her back, slipping under her sweater to touch her skin directly. Emma shuddered at the touch of the roughly healed skin and pressed her lips against his shoulder.

Slow down you're doing fine.

Killian spun them around, drawing a breathless laugh from Emma. The arm around her back tightened again when they resumed their swaying.

You can't be everything you want before your time.

Killian hummed the tune in her ear. In his arms she felt safe. Killian had taken her by surprise before and the suddenness had been what brought on the memory. But swaying with him gently now she felt loved. Killian didn't look at her possessively like Neal had during their first meeting at the dance party. Killian looked at her with reverence and respect for the strength she had to stand up and try again. He looked at her with love.

When will you realize… Vienna waits for you.

As the music ended they drew apart. They moved to the counter together and finished their slightly overdone supper, plating it so they could go back to the couch to eat. The activity was so domestic that it made Emma smile. Because not only had she finally been able to dance again that night but she'd also found someone to be domestic with, someone who actually wanted to share a space with her instead of being forced to because of the foster care system. And for Emma, who had been positive of nothing other than her inability to experience such a thing for many years, it was pretty amazing feeling. It made her feel as if she'd maybe, finally, found her own Vienna.