A/U IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT YOU READ THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE! Firstly, you have not yet met the woman from the prologue – things will eventually become clearer throughout the story and by the time we circle back to the prologue you will hopefully be thinking "Oh, that's why she wrote that in the prologue!"

Secondly, I cannot stress enough how much I need you guys to TRUST ME! I fully intend to crush your hearts in this chapter because I'm a terrible cruel person but I will redeem that in the coming storyline. This is not an angst fanfic for a reason, it is adventure/romance. So please, please, please, for the love of Eddy Kitsis and Adam Horowitz trust me!

And I hope I at least make some of you teary.

Chapter Two: Swansong

"Emma, get out of here. Now!"

Killian stood before her, ice blue eyes locked onto hers as he urged her to leave. She scrutinized him heavily, completely taken off guard by both the selfless shadow to his actions and the hooded creature leisurely making its way towards them. His eyes roamed hers, silently questioning why she wouldn't leave already.

"What are you going to do? You can't fight that thing with a sword!" the blonde countered, surprisingly angry in the frenzy of their situation. Her mind whirred in thought and Killian could swear he saw concern crease her features. But almost as soon as the emotion was shown, it was wiped away with a glance behind him. Killian used his hook to move her face so her attention was on him. His eyes pierced hers with a look of determination and she was unexpectedly and painfully aware of how close he was standing to her.

"For once in your bloody life, Swan, trust me. Get away from here – don't worry about your boy, he'll be safe. Just get out of here, now."

His last word was punctuated by an even larger howl from the beast approaching. Emma watched him intently, her eyes as piercing as his ice blue ones despite their soft colour. She could not fathom why he might even remotely be concerned for her – enough to act the way he was. All she had done so far had specifically resulted in the hindrance of his plans. She was an obstacle that he should endeavour to conquer. And yet there he was, urging her to leave as if he would hold off hell itself so she could escape.

Before either of them could make move to do anything else, Killian was abruptly and aggressively jerked backwards and he dropped his sword.

"Killian!" Emma yelled in shock, stepping forward to help him but being forced back when the attackers responsible became visible to her. He grunted painfully; Greg had the pirate by his hair and had used his lack of balance to wind an arm around his neck, dragging him back. Tamara was next to Greg and sidestepped them to engage the blonde who stared daggers at the pair. Killian yelled angrily as the burly man pulled him away from the women, realizing that the hand that had previously been in his hair was now placed so that his hook was unmovable.

"Emma, get out of here now!" he yelled through clenched teeth.

The pirate bit his lip as he used his strength to buck backwards and send both him and his attacker toppling over. He was quick to recover on his feet, running towards Emma and Tamara who were fighting. Of course she hadn't run; she didn't trust him and she didn't have any sense of self-preservation.

The blonde was lithe but the other woman had apparently received training in this kind of close combat. The former tried to land a blow to the others' side and was greeted by a sharp hit to her elbow which caused her enough pain that the knock was not nearly as powerful as it had started out. Succinctly following the attempted hit, the dark-haired woman snaked her arm out to jar Emma's shoulder. Pain shot through the saviour's arm as she stumbled back.

The self-satisfied smirk on her opposition's face gave her renewed vigor and the blonde woman launched forward to kick her shin as she grasped her arms. Tamara cried out in pain and fell down slightly, giving Emma the opportunity to knee her in the stomach. As the ebony woman curled over, she noticed the blonde preparing to strike again and sidestepped the blow. Regaining her stance, she engaged Emma.

The saviour could see her foe's face hardening with concentration as she tried to incapacitate her and used her arm to assault the focused woman's shoulder. As Tamara stumbled backwards, her hand reached into one of her coat pockets and in one calculated movement withdrew the object and thrust it towards Emma. No one completely registered what the object was at first, not until the two prongs came into contact with the saviour.

And then Emma's body began shaking as the taser-like weapon began to work on her body – sucking the energy and power from it like a vacuum where the little metal points touched her coat. Killian watched in confusion as he ran towards them, unsure about what was happening. However, as his eyes lifted to Emma's face, he felt a sudden wave of anger. Pain creased her features and only the faintest of groans passed from her clenched tight lips. The flush in her cheeks dissipated, becoming unnaturally pale. The pirate barrelled towards them just as Tamara withdrew the object and tucked it neatly back into her pocket, stepping back in satisfaction as her victim fell to her knees.

He was immediately beside Emma, who slouched on the spot barely conscious.

"Swan, get up! Get up!" he growled, gripping her arm and dragging her to her feet where he leaned her against the yellow vehicle still parked on the side of the road. Her eyes were closed and she slumped against the car; the only indicator that she was conscious the occasional groan that passed her lips and the rapid movement of her eyes beneath her eyelids. Killian looked her over desperately; he had never seen her like this and the sight had him blindsided. Emma was always awake, alert, defiant – he'd never experienced her in weakness.

Killian realized very quickly that he had two choices. He could stay and help this woman or he could escape with his life and leave her to whatever awaited. But his decision was made before he'd even really asked himself the question; while many things – a pirate, a scoundrel, a monster – Killian Jones was no coward. And despite all his shortcomings, he would not leave Emma Swan to her fate. All things considered, he knew he should leave; he didn't owe the saviour anything and her existence was a specific detriment to his plans. Having her gone would actually make things easier.

But the pirate lived by a strict code – or that's what he told himself as he prepared to take on some of her weight and drag her away towards his ship.

The beast's howl reminded Killian of its presence and he turned just in time to watch as Greg and Tamara both advanced on him. They immediately went to his arms and he was surprised at the woman's strength. Even if she wasn't strong, the way her fingers dug strategically into his nerves made the power in his arms obsolete. He jerked angrily in their grasp but his efforts were futile.

As Tamara and Greg pulled Killian away from the blonde, who leaned heavily on her car for support, he felt the fury within him double. They pried him back as he ripped himself from side-to-side in a valiant effort to escape their grip.

"You told me that she would not be harmed!" he yelled furiously. The man pushed him onto his knees harshly, a firm grip on his shoulder and arm.

"We never said that, we said Neal was our target and nothing else," he replied smugly.

"I asked what Emma's role was and you told me –" a blow to his stomach winded him.

"We told you what you needed to know – you don't think we knew he would show her the mark? That she would take it the second she found out about it? She's the saviour – of course she was going to save him. For you to think any different is idiotic on your part, Hook," Tamara sneered back, digging her fingers into his shoulder a little bit harder as she said his moniker.

Emma was still leaning against the car and she mentally slapped herself to wake up. Her mind buzzed on mute but she could hear as someone yelled angrily somewhere nearby. The pain is gone and that's all that matters a small broken voice within her repeated. However, in true Emma Swan fashion, another voice spoke up, harsher, telling her to snap out of it and remember the situation outside her head. Using all the strength she could muster, Emma opened her eyes and tried to push herself away from her car. Turning slightly to her right she saw Killian restrained by Tamara and Greg. He was on his knees and the look in his eyes made her turn around.

Fear coursed rapidly through Emma like ice water as she stared up at the great black hooded beast. Its glowing scarlet eyes watched her with predatory apathy as it hovered in front of her like an executioner awaiting its next victim. Killian tried desperately, with almost primal animosity, to get away from the people holding him down and bellowed.

"Emma, run! Go! Swan!" he roared in frustration.

In that moment, with death staring her straight in the face, she felt a wave of emotions drown her. As she watched the blood-red pinpoints that stared her down, her mind was consumed by painful thoughts and an onslaught of sentiments.

Agonizingly concentrated sadness stabbed at her heart at the realisation that she would not watch Henry grow up like she'd planned. She would not get the chance to see his face light up in excitement and anticipation as he graduated high school or the satisfaction in his smile when he received his first job, she would not have the opportunity to calm the nerves he would undoubtedly feel before his first date. Indescribable grief seized her at the notion that she would not have the option of letting her parents make up for lost time. She wouldn't get to watch as wrinkles creased their features and their hair slowly greyed. And most painfully of all, regret that she would never get the chance to farewell any of the people who had changed her life so thoroughly. Images flashed in her mind's eye; of her son laughing as he read his beloved fairy-tale book, of her parents embracing each other looking at her with unconditional love, of Ruby and Granny smiling warmly as they served hot chocolate with cream and cinnamon, of Archie nodding proudly, of Neal grinning childishly, of Killian smirking with that familiar glint in his eye.

Tears burned the back of her eyes against her will and she blinked them back fiercely. Weakness overcoming everything, Emma knew she couldn't fight it any more than she could fight the air coming in slow steady breaths in and out of her lungs. She wanted to fight – oh, how she wanted to fight – but it was inevitable and the least she could do was die with dignity. A pang of worry for Killian stained her thoughts as the wraith seemed to rise up even higher above her. Emma stood as tall as she could.

And then the world was a blurry mess as she felt the life drained from her extremities.

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An opaque tendril of smoky magic shot out towards Emma, connecting with her face. The hooded creature made a sound akin to a deep breath as it began to suck the life from her. And, unable to fight, she stood immobile with her arms outstretched.

Killian watched in horror as her form became increasingly limp. And still the beast drank, eliciting every last iota of warmth and life from her vulnerable body. In the distance in front of Emma, two figures were running down the docks with one straggling along behind them. As the distance separating them lessened, Killian recognized the running figures as Emma's parents; Snow and Charming. They both sprinted forward and he could hear them as they cried out desperately to their daughter. The pirate's eyes snapped back to Emma and he watched as she sunk to her knees.

Everything seemed to slow down as the pirate watched the strongest woman he'd ever met failing and his vision became tinted with red. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Killian shoved his head back so that it smashed into Greg's lower abdomen. His captor hunched over and the grip on one of his arms weakened slightly, giving Killian the opportunity to tear it out of the man's hold. Tamara, however, still had his other shoulder. She pressed down harder, using her thumb to dig into a nerve. The pain that blasted through his shoulder caused him to yell out and he struck out at her side with his hook in succinct retaliation.

As he pulled back his appendage, he could see the blood that tinted the first inch of it. Tamara fell back at the force and pain of the blow. Greg growled wrathfully at Killian who had already regained his footing. Now standing, he immediately moved to engage the man. But the pirate was ready now and fuelled by a mix of pure rage and adrenaline. Greg shot his arm out to try and hit Killian, who swiftly captured the fist headed his direction and twisted. With his arm vulnerable, the rabid man attempted to snake out his leg in an awkward backwards kick. The pirate used his foot to kick the sensitive spot behind the man's knee, sending him down with a cry of pain.

There was no hesitation as he lifted his hook up, ready to drop it into Greg's neck. Before he could kill the miserable imp, two solid objects smashed into either side of Killian's face around his ears. Pain instantly shot through his head and he felt someone shove him aside. Tamara was immediately there, lifting Greg up feebly and pulling him away with her eyes narrowed on the man responsible. He grabbed his head painfully and cursed as he watched them hobble away and out of sight.

They were shortly followed by the hooded creature which drifted ominously across the street in the direction they had headed. The wraith was soon out of sight, and Killian felt relief that the beast had left. He could only hope the blonde had enough energy to recall his involvement in her saving. She would probably still hold a grudge against him though, that was just how she was. Either way, the pirate's aiding her might go some way to helping his case when the Dark One eventually sought out revenge for endangering his son.

Killian's muscles ached but he pulled himself to his feet anyway, clutching his head. It wasn't until the ringing subsided that he realized the thick silence that seemed to cloud to the air. There was no howling anymore; even the wind had apparently receded. He let his hand drop from where it had been rubbing his forehead. And then he heard a sound he would not soon forget.

"Emma," a bloodcurdling voice cried behind him, stabbing at the air. Killian felt his heart clench tightly as he forced himself to turn around. Everything seemed to slow down in that moment.

Metres away from where he stood, Snow knelt over something – her shaking torso an indicator that she had been the person to cry out. Holding onto her was Charming and he appeared to be clinging to her as if she was his only anchor to life. His body shook every time the woman in his arms trembled violently. Standing opposite them, looking down in a mix of incomprehensible shock and grief, was Neal. Killian watched them all for a minute before he let himself notice the swirl of blonde hair that was visible behind Snow and David. He walked closer despite the voice in his head screaming that he should turn and leave, get as far from this as possible because he wouldn't be able to handle this.

But Killian had never done what he ought and continued to slowly walk forward. The closer he got, the louder Snow's broken sobs became and more of the scene became visible to him. Blonde hair lay limp on the concrete ground and messily arrayed from the suddenness with which she had obviously dropped. Her face became visible to him and he felt himself stumble at the shock wave it sent through him; it was impossibly serene, she could have been sleeping. Snow's hand cupped one side of her daughter's face as she moaned something unintelligible.

Snow's body heaved deeper as a sob wracked her small frame and Charming's face became visible to the pirate. Tears stained his hardened features but the prince did not speak or yell. The expression on his face, of despair and utter hopelessness, conveyed more than any sound ever could. His eyes were trained despondently on his little girl and he looked away when Snow took a deep and shaky breath. Charming's eyes landed on the back of his wife's head and he nestled his face in the back of neck.

"Emma," Snow said again, a muffled cracked sound as she used her hands to clench the motionless woman's coat. The princess fell onto her daughter, hands clinging to the fabric of the black jacket as her head landed on the unmoving chest. David lifted his head as he ran a shaky hand through his hair and brought it back to his mouth to take a deep breath.

Killian had never been a crier but hot angry tears burned the back of his eyes as he looked down at Emma. Something akin to the feeling of a tidal wave crashed over his mind and he realized what this meant. There would be no more back-and-forth; he would never again enjoy their battle of wits. She would never again challenge him the way no one else had ever managed to. Her blue-grey eyes would not ever again pierce his with condemnation or concealed amusement or sympathy. Those lips would never part to smile or laugh or yell again. The fragile and cold hands that were relaxed in death would never again clench in excitement or irritation or violence. Emotion would not pass her mind now, because she was gone. Emma was gone.

It took him a lot more strength than he would ever admit to restrain the tears that wanted to escape his eyes. Instead, he dealt with his pain the only way he knew how. He channeled the raw emotion into anger as he lifted his eyes to look at Neal.

"You," he said, garnering himself the attention of the aforementioned man. Neal looked up, a frown etched across his broken features. But Killian didn't care. He was responsible. Stepping around Emma's body, the pirate advanced on him. Neal stepped back with his hands raised defensively.

"I tried to take it back," he said remorsefully, glancing down at Emma's motionless form that was still being clutched by Snow. His eyes searched Killian's desperately, but he was too far gone to accept any rational thought.

"She's dead because of you!" he yelled as he launched himself at Neal. The latter narrowly avoided the swipe of the other's hook as it slashed the air viciously. The succinct follow-up did not miss however and Neal was sent to the ground with a painful thump.

"You're a coward, just like your father!" Killian yelled, moving to kick the man on the ground. However, before his boot could connect, firm hands gripped his foot and manoeuvred it so his leg twisted painfully and he fell. Neal took the opportunity to stand and step back from the pirate.

"I didn't give it to her! She took it from me so – so, don't you dare blame me!" he shouted back, angry now. Killian raised himself up, flinching at the pain it sent through his sprained leg, and glared at the man. It was true, he knew Emma well-enough to know that she would have jumped him without a second thought – how she held him down was another question entirely. But she wouldn't have given up and she never would have given the damn mark back. That's just the type of person she was.

Killian's eyes drifted to her form again and he sagged on the spot. She would have hated him for trying to blame Neal because deep down, even he knew the man wasn't to blame. When he looked back at the Dark One's son, the man's eyes were no longer on the pirate but on a spot behind him. Realization dawned in Neal's eyes and he started sprinting towards something behind Killian.

"Mom?" a young voice called in the direction Neal had run. Killian's eyes widened and David's head snapped up at the sound. Snow remained with Emma's body though, her entire being consumed with grief. The prince stepped reverently around his daughter's body and started jogging on the same course Neal had gone. As he passed Killian, the pirate turned around and watched as the small boy ran towards them. Not far behind him, a young woman with dark hair was chasing him.

Henry sprinted headlong towards them, ignorant of the cries of the woman following him. As Neal approached his son, the boy slowed down slightly.

"Henry, get back! Go to Ruby, now!" he said sternly, but the desperation was evident in his voice. Emma's son frowned in confusion at his father who was desperately trying to impair the kid's line of sight.

"Where's Mom?" he demanded, walking closer to the man. Neal crouched down to be at his son's level and grasped his shoulder.

"Henry, I need you to go with Ruby," he replied. However, because of his change in position, Henry could now see over his father's shoulder. Over to where his grandmother was still sobbing, where his mother lay motionless on the ground. The boy stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock. Neal immediately noticed the change in demeanor and reached out to grab his son but the kid was already sprinting around his father towards his mother. Killian watched helplessly as Henry's eyes began to fill with tears as he ran.

Before he could reach his mother, David intercepted him; grasping his arms and pulling him in for a tight hug before he could react. A penetrating cry worked its way out of the small boy as Ruby reached him and David. Her eyes almost immediately landed on Emma and Snow and she stood motionless as the impact of the situation hit her full force. The dark-haired woman's hand landed over her mouth as she made a noise halfway between a gasp and a cry.

Killian watched as Ruby gathered herself quietly before taking a shaky step forward. She headed straight for Emma's body, a lone tear making a track down her cheek as she walked. When she reached the saviour, she knelt down next to her sobbing friend and placed a delicate arm around her. The pixie-haired woman pulled herself up to look at her new companion, her face crumpled and wet.

Another tear escaped Ruby's eye and she gently started pulling Snow up and away from Emma's body. The woman resisted at first, desperate to stay with her daughter, but as another wave of despair hit her she just didn't have the physical strength. Ruby pulled her friend into a standing position before enveloping her in a hug, letting the woman cry into her jacket.

Killian forced himself to look away from them, back to David who still had Henry in his arms. He was crying uncontrollably as he slumped against his grandfather's figure. Behind the embraced males, Neal stood quietly. His eyes were on his desolate son, the expression on his face equally anguished.

The pirate observed the situation quietly, unsure of what he was supposed to do. He wanted to leave and yet at the same time he felt an urgent pull towards the blonde lying cold on the concrete behind him. Killian turned around from David and the child and started walking towards Emma, feeling his own frailty in every step.

The sound of grief and despair contaminated the air, the emotion thick like smog. Snow's muffled weeping, Ruby's quiet sniffing, Henry's deafening cries, David and Neal's quiet moaning. The sky seemed a darker shade of grey, the light barely passing through the clouds as feint rain began to fall.

But everything was silent in Killian's head as he approached her. Ruby and Snow stood a few feet away now, the former still carrying the latter. When he was finally standing over her, he frowned. Of all the people he thought he would live to see perish; she had never crossed his mind as an option. He had always thought he would die before her because, out of all the people he'd ever met, she was the only person who had ever seemed invincible. Despite her feminine appearance and heinous internal scarring, she had always been the strongest in his eyes; the last person to be defeated. The notion of this woman being gone was so unnatural – it bit at his insides so his breathing felt labored and his stomach clenched uncomfortably.

Killian finally knelt down beside her, his knees hitting the cold hard ground with a soft thud. His joints and muscles ached as if to remind him of his actions only a short time ago. They were all for nothing, every step he'd taken to throw himself in front of her, everything he'd ever done was for nothing.

Looking down at her face, memories swirled in his mind; of her threatening him without mercy at the base of a great tree, of her bold attempts to ignore him as they climbed a stalk into the heavens, of her eyes following his every move while he bandaged her injured hand, of her observing him with regret as she backed away.

A strand of blonde hair was draped across her forehead. Uncharacteristically gentle, he reached out with his good hand and lightly moved it away from Emma's serene features.

The faint brush of his fingers against her face was enough to send a jolt through him – even in death she apparently affected him. Everything within him told him she couldn't be gone but the image before him was so contrasting that he silenced all his internal voices.

REMEMBER YOU NEED TO TRUST ME!