A/N: This is angsty and contains spoilers for the finale. Approach with caution.

Based off this post: soulmate au where instead of your soulmates first words to you written on your skin it's their last words you ever hear them say so you don't know who your soulmate is until you lose them.

As always, I don't own anything. Please enjoy and review.

Even though Emma believes in magic, she can't bring herself to believe in soulmates. Or maybe she doesn't want to, if the only way to know for sure is to lose them. She hasn't quiet decided if she wants that one little word spoken, to get it over with so she could begin to heal and move on – however one manages to move on from an apparent soulmate – or if she simply never wants to her it.

(When she doesn't lie to herself, she's secretly relived that the words 'thank you' or 'promise me you'll both be happy' aren't tattooed onto her skin because it still means she has a chance for something epic, something that's apparently born into her very DNA.)

Back when she didn't believe and Mary Margaret was just a friend, they had laughed over their marks. Emma liked to pretend she was a cynic so she was always ready to dismiss the idea that the love of her life had already been chosen and Mary Margaret was starting to lose hope, so cracking a bottle of wine and laughing over their apparent fates seemed like the thing to do.

She had traced over the elegant script on Mary Margaret's shoulder blade, smiling over the 'I will always find you' and how Mary Margaret couldn't even find it without a mirror.

(They didn't laugh again after the curse broke, especially after Emma saw her father's matching 'And I you' on his chest, just below where he took Snow White's arrow. In that moment, she fiercely wanted some kind of clue, some trademark phrase before the end.)

When she gives it more consideration, she wants to selfish choice, to be the one who leaves and says the words first. In her quieter moments, she thinks it will probably be the case and a part of her feels relived. She traces her own name over her ribs and wonders if great love is worth great tragedy.

She usually then snorts and pulls her shirt back on, forcing herself back into real life.

Killian traces over the letters with such delicacy, shivers going through her body. It usually ends with him having a cheeky grin on his face, finding her ticklish spots or the wicked grin breaks out, sending heat throughout her body.

On rare occasions, he studies the word soberly, almost committing the delicate flourishes to memory. She would laugh or brush it off, if she didn't do the same with his plain, 'you were mine', written over his heart. His hand always seems to cover the word when he holds her, she doesn't know if he's claiming it or trying to shield her from ever hearing it. In the end, the reason doesn't matter because whenever his hand finds that spot, her heart skips a beat and it never matters who her soulmate is, because she has Killian and that's all she wants. It's enough.

Magic is rushing all around them and Emma can see the despair written on everyone's faces, the hopelessness. She feels it rise in her own chest before she quickly quashes it with thoughts of her son and his constant belief in heroes. Regina is down and her parents appear to be saying what they think is their last goodbyes.

She thinks of the little words they have tattooed and refuses to let this moment be the one they are uttered.

Killian's hand is still warm in her own and she squeezes, hoping for some burst of inspiration to stop the dark magic from destroying everything they care for. Her eyes are starting to burn from the magic but she can't allow herself to blink or stop searching for some kind of solution.

Then she spots it.

The dagger is lying on the street, cast to the side like it's just another piece of trash. Like it isn't the source of all this chaos.

The dagger is their salvation, it has to be and she is so focused on this idea she barely notices when her hand leaves Killian's or when he calls out after her. It's cold in her grip, the darkness in it making her whole body feel cold.

But as she realises what she must do, she thinks that it might not be the darkness in the blade making her cold, but the approaching sensation of her own death.

She looks up, eyes locking with Killian and he cries out when he reads the truth in her eyes.

"No! Emma, please!" He calls, anguish in every word.

Her legs are moving and he's meeting her halfway, hand cupping her cheek. She leans into his touch, heart beating too fast in her chest.

"We'll find another way," he says desperately, "We can do this together."

Her eyes are burning but she cannot blame this on wayward magic and tries to keep the tears at bay.

"There is no other way," she says brokenly, "You know that, Killian."

He's muttering, pleading but she needs him to look at her, she needs him to know. She covers his hand with her own and pulls it onto her heart. She doesn't know if the words where somehow always meant to be said or if she wants to simply claim him but she doesn't care, she just wants him to know.

"You know that thing you said about your happy ending?" She chokes out, focusing on his eyes of endless blue, "You were mine."

She pushes her forehead to his, not wanting anything more than to stay with him, to end his broken sobs and pleading.

Everything else is stuck in her throat and she has to pull away before she no longer has the strength to. He resists and she pushes a little magic into her hand, forcing him to drop it. She steps away, magic holding him still.

She notices absently that Regina seems to have regained consciousness and that her parents are calling for her but her eyes never leave his. Not even as she thrusts the dagger above her head and begins to guide all of her magic, her lifeforce, into the blade.

The light erupts around her and she thinks of her son, safely hidden with her brother. If love is truly a powerful force, she hopes he can feel her love for him, hope that one day he will understand. The light fills her every pore and the last thing she sees if the blue of his eyes and his mouth opening desperately, shouting one word she hears as clear as day.

"Emma!"

As Emma vanishes into nothing, she smiles.

It was enough.

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry. My bad.