Hi, guys!

Well... this is bittersweet! This will be the last chapter of Lost and Found, and with my muse as faded for OUAT as it is right now, it looks like this may be the last of the Begin Again series as a whole. Hopefully my muse will pull a Tom Brady and prove me wrong, but... if so, it sadly won't be any time soon. The next sequel was set to be in the EF and would be the True Love story, though I hadn't planned anything past that.

Thanks to eddisfargo for all of your help with bouncing ideas and reading parts of this for me, and thank you to every single person who reads this and has followed this journey with me! I'm getting sappy, but I'm going to miss how deep I was into my OUAT muse and this story. Writing for Captain Swan has been the most connected to a ship I have ever been, and I felt it the most when writing this fic. A definite part of my soul is in this story. Thank you so much for reading and especially to those who have left reviews. Every single one makes my day so much and I can't tell you how much it means to share this story with you all! I'll hopefully still be posting OUAT every now and again still, but we'll have to see where the muse wind blows.

Without further adieu: the last chapter of Lost and Found/Begin Again.

~cosette141


The rest of the day went by in a haze of relief, and Emma felt herself relax bit by bit, eroding the steel she felt like she'd been throughout Neverland.

They were home, Killian was alive, safe, at her side, and so was Henry and her parents.

Her parents, which had always felt fake and wrong when she thought of David and Mary Margaret that way, but now not only felt true, but right.

Not long after they returned home, in typical Storybrooke fashion they found themselves at Granny's, surrounded by food, friends and relief all around, including the Lost Boys who tentatively joined them, and enjoyed a decent meal for the first time in however many years they'd been trapped on that godforsaken island. Blue had quickly taken to keeping an eye on them, as well as promising to house them and help them find homes, only proving herself to be Mother Superior.

Emma, Killian and Henry were seated at one of the tables with her parents, and Emma couldn't find a way to explain the feeling of being surrounded by something she's never had before.

Family.

She was so used to being left behind, abandoned, unwanted, watching parents pass over her in foster homes for the other kids. She'd spent a life surrounded by emptiness, silence and her own arms hugged around herself.

To go from a life of that, to this?

On Emma's one side were Mary Margaret and David, their eyes always drifting back to her even as they took turns telling Regina, Cora, and the townsfolk who had gathered around the gist of what had happened in Neverland, only omitting some of the more… emotional parts of the trip, that they seemed to want to keep sacred to themselves and Emma, like their experiences of the dreams were theirs and theirs alone.

On Emma's other side was Killian, glued to her left side, hand in hers, fingers intertwined and hadn't let go since he'd taken hers again after their reunion with Henry.

And also at Emma's left side was Henry, who had clung to them ever since they returned home.

But on the subject of clinging to them, it was less them, and more Killian.

Henry was seated on Killian's lap, paying attention to the conversation going on around them, but still had a subtle grip on the front of Killian's coat, something Emma couldn't help noticing was something her own fingers found solace in.

But it wasn't just Henry Emma couldn't help watching.

Because although Henry's attention was on the conversation, eager to know what happened in Neverland, Killian's attention was on him.

The pirate's eyes have been almost exclusively on Henry ever since they reunited, for Henry hadn't let go of him once. So much so, that Killian had carried him here, looking so much like father and son that Emma had to fight the burn in her eyes. The picture reminded Emma of the last time they had returned to Storybrooke, and it was she in his arms.

It was from Henry they learned that though Emma and her parents thought they had been gone only two or three days, in reality it had been almost a full week. That knowledge hadn't surprised Killian, who had looked a little relieved it hadn't been longer.

Henry had been safely under Cora's and Regina's protection all week long, however according to Regina, he had spent most of his days begging them to bring him to the pier, where he waited for their safe return.

That knowledge alone had Emma clinging to her son far more than she already had been.

Emma had tuned out most of the conversation about their adventure, focused on watching Killian and Henry, only tuning back in when Mary Margaret reached the part of their tale that Emma realized none of them had the answer to.

"We tried to shield Emma from Pan's attack," began Mary Margaret, "but then there was this feeling of warmth, and his attack was somehow reflected back at him, so it's like he sort of defeated himself." She shook her head. "I don't really understand what it was."

"Karma," muttered David.

But among the sea of confused faces, Cora smiled. And it was still a strange sight to see—the woman who had always been so cold, showing warmth.

"True Love," said Cora, with that smile, so similar to her expression after she was reunited with her heart. "The power created by two people who share True Love," she said, gesturing between Mary Margaret and David, "protecting the product of their True Love…" She turned her gaze to Emma. "It's strong enough to do, or protect one from anything."

"It was our love?" asked Mary Margaret softly, tears in her eyes. She looked from David to Emma, and Emma felt the soft warmth from the dream she'd had in Neverland touch her again.

She had always imagined what it would feel like to have loving parents.

She never knew it could feel as good as this.

"Love…" said Cora, turning to Regina, "is the strongest magic of all." And to Emma, Cora said, "You were right, weeks ago, Emma. What you said to me when I couldn't take your heart. Love is strength."

Emma smiled, sitting between Killian, Henry and her parents, never feeling stronger in her life.

"Speaking of strength," said Regina, "it sounds like your magic is coming along quite well, Emma."

Emma felt herself blush. "I mean… not really," she mumbled. "I can't do what you can do." She shrugged. "I can only, like, make shields and heal people," she said.

"Why, of course."

Blue's voice drifted over from where she'd been watching the Lost Boys. "You're a Savior," she said simply. At the group's puzzlement, Blue explained, "Saviors have magic specific to saving themselves or others. Protection magic."

Emma blinked.

All the times she's used magic—

Jumping in front of Mary Margaret when Cora tried to take her heart.

Creating a protective shield around Gold's shop.

Somehow managing to teleport Killian to safety when Cora nearly killed him.

Reflecting the Lost Boy's dart away from herself.

Healing Killian's wounds—

"Protection magic," echoed Emma, it suddenly making sense. She looked at Killian, who shared the dawning realization.

"However, for the record," said Killian, "your magic isn't only anything, love. I know for a fact that none of us would be here right now if not for you and your magic."

Emma blushed again, mirroring his smile.

Tightening her fingers around his, Emma said, "Well, Henry and I wouldn't be here without you."

It was Killian's turn for a little shyness, looking like he was going to dismiss the credit, when David lifted his glass. "To Hook," he said, meeting Killian's eyes, a fond smile at his own lips. "We're glad to have you back."

Emma lifted her own glass, Henry his hot chocolate, and the room chorused a mix of To Hook and To Killian, making the pink deepen in Killian's cheeks, a stunned look in his eyes. However he inclined his head, with a tiny genuine smile. And with a smile toward Emma and Henry, he said softly, "Nowhere else I'd rather be."


The rest of the day was spent just together, the five of them and some of the town, Emma feeling so surrounded by care for her, she nearly had to ask her parents to stop asking if she was alright or if she needed something. But it was a good kind of overwhelm, to see them looking at her with the same attentiveness they once looked at their town and their people and every other crisis with.

She finally felt like she was their… priority.

Or maybe that's just what it felt like to be their daughter.

But Emma wasn't the only one who felt like they gained parental love.

For Henry had spent the day agonizing over having to give up calling Killian Captain due to his new title of Dad—and with every casual slip of calling Killian "Dad", Emma could feel Killian's heart skip through their touch, and the warm shock in his eyes each time—Henry had finally settled on alternating between "Dad" and "Captain Dad". Each time he used one to refer to Killian, it made Emma smile, watching Killian sit speechless, as if he hadn't entirely believed that the title would remain after Henry had said it the first time, and couldn't believe that it did, over and over again.

Killian seemed entirely unaware of anything other than Emma's and Henry's presence.

Emma knew the feeling.

For she would be happy to spend the rest of her life with the four people—the family—at her side.

It was appropo that the town had gathered, for Emma's safe return with Killian and her parents wasn't the only good news.

Anton had come bursting in, looking disheveled and exhausted, holding up something between two fingers, letting the object speak for him.

A bean.

More hollers and cheers for Anton's success, and the town's collective choice to leave for the Enchanted Forest tomorrow afternoon.

Mary Margaret and David had looked to Emma amongst the town's excitement, like they wanted to gauge her reaction, her feelings about it.

Exchanging a look with each other, Mary Margaret said, "Emma, you said a few weeks ago… that you didn't want to come with us." They exchanged a look again, and she smiled. "We'll be happy to… stay here with you."

Emma felt her brows raise, and felt Killian's follow, his eyes shifting to her.

"Stay here?" asked Emma, looking briefly at Killian's surprise, to her parents.

David swallowed, hard. "Emma, sweetheart," he said, smiling faintly at his own ability to use the epithet now, and Emma felt a warmth in her chest. "We've spent twenty-eight years of your life putting… ourselves, and our people ahead of you."

Emma started to shake her head. "It's—" she began, but Mary Margaret said gently but firmly, "No, it isn't okay."

Emma felt a little squeeze on her fingers, like Killian's agreement with them, him lending her the strength to think about herself.

"Emma," said Mary Margaret. "No matter how many… people we're responsible for, none of them will ever be more important to us than you." She smiled, and Emma felt pink touch her cheeks. "We missed out on… so much," said Mary Margaret with difficulty, tears touching her eyes, and Emma's own. "I… we," she looked back at David before looking at Emma, "we want to get to know you, and hear about everything, and make…" A tear slipped down her cheek. "New memories," she whispered, as the three of them seemed to relive their Neverland dreams at once. "Good ones. The three of us, as a family," she smiled through her tears. But she looked at Killian and Henry, amending, "The five of us."

And at that, Emma felt Killian's surprise, once again, at being included in their family.

"If you want to stay in this realm," said David, nothing but truth in his and Mary Margaret's eyes, "we'll stay with you."

Emma looked between them, unable to believe that they wanted to give up their Kingdom for her. The Kingdom that they spent more than half their lives fighting to protect. Mary Margaret was a princess her whole life, and David a prince for half of his.

They would give it all up, for her?

Emma felt a tear slip down her cheek, and Killian's fingers tighten around hers.

"I want that," said Emma softly. "To be a family, all of us."

Mary Margaret and David smiled, tears in their eyes, accepting her choice, not an ounce of regret in their eyes.

"I'm sure Aurora wouldn't mind taking the Kingdom—" began Mary Margaret, but Emma stopped her.

"I want us together," clarified Emma. "But… I don't need it to be here. I want to…" She looked at Killian, whose smile was nothing but encouraging, willing to follow her anywhere. "I want to see the life you… wanted me to have," said Emma.

Mary Margaret and David shared their shock, and Emma realized they hadn't expected her to change her mind.

"You want to be a princess?" asked Mary Margaret incredulously. "I mean—you always have been a princess, but… you want to be one?"

Emma felt a blush heat her cheeks. "I mean… it'll take some getting used to, but…" She smiled, a shyness in it. "Might be kinda neat to be a princess… like my mom was." she finished softly.

The sheer amount of joy that lit up Mary Margaret's eyes would have blinded the sun itself.

And suddenly she was in her mother's arms, pulled in close.

"I love you, Emma," she whispered over her shoulder.

A tear fell down Emma's cheek, whispering words for the first time in her life.

"I love you, too, Mom."

And David joined the embrace, an arm around both his girls, tears in his eyes. "I love you, my little girl," he said softly.

"I love you, Dad," she said just as softly, smiling at the words she was finally able to say.

She felt Killian's fingers still around hers, squeeze.

"I'm not used to someone putting me first."

"Well, get used to it."

Emma shut her eyes, and began to do just that.


With the—once again—impending move to the Enchanted Forest, one that, this time, Emma was actually looking forward to (however hesitantly), it was Henry who had one last Storybrooke request.

And that was something he'd apparently been eagerly waiting to do for quite a while; spending a night on the Jolly Roger.

Bidding her parents a goodnight, which entailed several hugs, I love you, Emma's, and insurances that Emma would keep her phone on and call them in the morning. (To which Emma rolled her eyes with a smile.) She, Killian and Henry then retired to the Jolly Roger for the last night in Storybrooke.

Henry was quite keen on sleeping in a castle every night as a prince, but according to him, he has been waiting too long to sleep on a pirate ship.

Most of their walk to the ship was filled with Henry's excited chatter about a very many subjects involving his approaching princehood, the Enchanted Forest and the change ahead of them all.

But by the time they reached the ship, the moon was high overhead, Henry's blinks were long and slow, and he was falling asleep in Killian's arms.

Killian carried Henry onto the ship and below deck, into the cabin next to his, laying him on one of the cots like it was specifically chosen. He laid Henry on the bed like he was made of glass, and rare glass at that, making a smile touch Emma's eyes at the care he showed for her—their—boy.

Henry's eyes fluttered open when Killian put him down, blinking around the room, smiling sleepily and mumbling, "You remembered the one I picked."

"Aye," said Killian, pulling up the blanket for Henry. "Get some sleep, my boy."

Henry's brows kneaded. He blinked again, fighting his tiredness. "Don't fall in another portal, 'kay?"

That made Killian still for a moment, pain drifting through the blue in his eyes like a cloud, darkening the beauty of a clear sky. But he smiled, brushing over Henry's hair. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised softly, yet so surely, and it took Emma back to the apartment in New York.

"Don't leave."

"I promise you, Emma. I am not going anywhere."

He'd kept that promise.

Again and again and again.

The words seemed to calm Henry as much as they'd calmed Emma that day, and Henry's eyes fluttered shut, a barely audible whisper of, "Night, Dad."

Henry slipped into sleep, and Emma watched Killian watch him, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Killian stood, and Emma quietly knelt beside Henry's bed, gently kissing his forehead before joining Killian again at the doorway.

They both hovered there as Killian's hand found hers.

An idea jumped into Emma's mind, and she smiled at it, touching her free hand to the wall, shutting her eyes. She felt the magic flow through her, warming her chest, and opened her eyes to watch the faint white glow span the walls of the room, surrounding it with a protective shield. In the bed, even asleep, Henry seemed to relax more, as if he could feel the protection—her protection—surrounding him. The relief it brought her seemed to fuel the magic on its own, as the safer it made her feel, the stronger it was.

Emma turned to see Killian's grateful look, like it relieved him just as much as it did her, if not more.

Emma felt her phone buzz, and she pulled it out to find a text from Mary Margaret.

I love you, sweetheart.

Emma smiled at it, feeling the familiar warmth fill her chest.

Killian smiled when she told him what it was, with a blush in her cheeks.

"You've done the impossible, love," he said. "You've gone to Neverland and gained parents."

Emma smiled, inclining her head toward Henry. "And you came back as one." she said softly.

It was his turn for a humble shyness, and maybe a touch of fear, of the kind of anxiety of not wanting to disappoint.

"He's lucky to have you," said Emma softly, honestly, smiling at the innocent disbelief in his eyes that has been there since this morning.

But he shook his head, looking toward Henry. "'Tis the other way around."

They both watched Henry sleep for a few moments longer, hovering in the doorway before Emma's fingers tightened a little around his, pulling him away from the room. He let her, and they left her magic watching over Henry as they climbed the stairs above deck.

The sun hadn't set yet, and it reminded Emma of the night last week—had it only been a week?—that Killian had brought her here to watch the sunset.

However, this time, neither of them even glanced toward the horizon.

Killian captured her lips in a kiss, one that she felt she'd waited years to feel, allowing herself to be swept into his passion. Their kiss was a language of its own, and Emma felt herself smile into his lips, hearing everything his heart was speaking to her through touch. She only deepened his passion, overcome with the relief that she was even able to do this again with him.

They pulled away reluctantly, as if only coming up for the air they were unlucky enough to need. But their eyes met above the surface of the kiss, stilling them both, just watching each other in the first quiet moment since they've been home. They held each other there, Emma's fingers in his hair, his in hers. The moment shifted at once, from passionate to tender, her fingers finding his coat.

Emma relaxed into him, trading the embrace of his kiss for his arms. She felt her head fall to his shoulder, shutting her eyes as he pulled her in tighter, his arm curling around her waist, sending a feeling slipping down her spine, and a warmth in her chest. She simply listened to him breathe, felt his heartbeat, the two things that could steady her more than any lapping wave.

The sunset cast them in a silhouette, forgotten behind them.

She felt him rest his face lightly over her hair, pulling her in only closer, and felt a breath eased from his chest, like her closeness was his own anchor.

He pressed a kiss to her hair, and she smiled into his chest, fingers curling into his jacket at his back, melting into him only more.

She could spend forever, right here, in his arms.

It felt like years since they had been together, and been together without the fear of losing each other again. Here, they were all right, Henry safely within the embrace of her magic, and Emma herself safely in Killian's.

And he, hers.

A breath of relief was eased from her own chest, like a cool breeze over hot land, like rain over dry grass.

She lifted her head, missing his eyes. She found them on her, the blue in them so much richer than the sea, looking at her with the same relief Emma felt in her heart. He smiled, as if just the sight of her gave his lips the instinct, and she felt hers mirror him.

Emma pulled him to her even more. "I hope you know that after everything we just went through, I won't be letting you out of my sight ever again," said Emma through her smile, truthfully only half-joking.

He smiled, the expression a little reserved for catching the truth in her words. "Nor I you," he said softly, pulling her flush to him, tightening his hold around her with a grin, and Emma felt a little laugh in her chest. His embrace suddenly felt like the one he'd given her when they'd met, when she'd grabbed him to save him from the tripwire on the Beanstalk. She'd clawed her way out of that hold then, but now, she knew if he ever let her go, she'd claw her way back in.

Flashing back to the docks, to having thought she lost him, Emma felt a chill sweep down her spine, and she melted into him only more, as close as she could get. "Killian," she whispered, smiling to herself, that he was here. "I'm so glad you're all right," she whispered.

His embrace changed, from playful to protective, curling around her even more. "Only thanks to you," he said, just as softly.

She smiled into his chest. "I don't know how much I had to do with it," she said. "I'm starting to believe that you are a survivor."

But that made him pull back a little, just enough to see her face, and she looked up at him. There was a little hurt in his eyes, for her, at her dismissal of credit. He looked at her for a moment, then at the horizon, the last rays of light off the water.

"Aye," he agreed tentatively, "I am good at surviving." His gaze on the water shifted, as if with old pain at a new realization. "However…" His voice trailed off, that pain shifting in his eyes. "I believe Cora was right, earlier this afternoon. When she had said that you'd been correct that day at Lake Nostos. That…" He trailed off again, and looked at her then, something changing in his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but didn't stop him. "That… love…" he said slowly, "is strength." He smiled, eyes on her with the words, his hold tightening around her a little. "My survival has never been a talent," he said softly.

Emma's eyes widened a little with realization. "Milah," she said suddenly. "You were fighting for Milah," she said with a smile, still incredulous that someone could be so devoted.

"Aye…" said Killian, voice trailing off, his eyes settling on her with a hesitance, and Emma felt his heart skip through their touch. "However… this time," he said slowly, "it wasn't Milah I was surviving for."

Emma suddenly froze.

The very air around them seemed to catch its breath.

They both felt the depth of his implication with the words, like a magic of its own.

Killian's gaze was just as frozen on hers, a smile touching the corners of his lips. He lifted his hand, gently holding her face, thumb brushing across her skin. "It was you," he whispered.

Emma felt her breath catch.

"My whole life," said Killian softly, "I've chased reasons to survive." He smiled again. "But… Emma, you…" He smiled, the look in his eyes brighter than the stars. "You give me a reason to live."

Tears touched Emma's eyes.

And suddenly there was that look in his eyes again, that she'd seen on the ship on the way home. Something so strong, so vibrant.

Killian opened his mouth, smiling, as if so ready to say something that seemed to have been on his tongue for far too long.

However, he hesitated, shutting his eyes.

"Emma…" he began, voice heavy with a sense of anticipation, of an ocean about to overtake a dam. "I want to… tell you something," he said carefully, cautiously. "But I don't want you to… feel the need to say something in return," he explained heavily, words almost tumbling out in a rush of anxiety.

Emma could feel his heart begin to race through their touch.

"You needn't say anything you… aren't ready to," he said slowly, "or that you…" His voice cut off, barely a whisper to say, "Or that you don't f-feel." Killian said, he said carefully, voice shaking a little around the words, as if it was an outcome that scared him.

Emma felt her heart skip as his voice shook.

He was so hesitant, yet as if alight with a need that almost seemed to consume him more than his need for revenge once had.

"However," he said, voice rough, as if pushing through the point where fear met desire, he smiled. "You deserve to know."

And holding her gently, brushing his thumb over her skin, his smile on her like it was hers alone, he whispered, "Emma, I—"

"I love you."

Killian froze.

Emma felt herself smile, her own voice's echo filling the silence, lingering the three words between them, spoken for the first time.

Killian stared at her in utter shock, hearing the words that were still waiting on his tongue.

When Emma only smiled, he stared at her in complete disbelief. As if he was unable to process her words. "What?" he asked, looking almost lost.

Feeling her smile grow, Emma repeated, "I love you."

His eyes widened a fraction, as if hearing it repeated, as if knowing it wasn't an accident was even more incredulous.

Like he'd just been given the highest honor, and simply couldn't believe it.

But his shock only lasted a moment.

Suddenly there was a smile at his lips, so elated, so joyful, a happiness Emma had never seen on him before.

And it was the same happiness in her chest.

"Emma," breathed Killian, smiling only more. "I love you." Emma felt a laugh at her chest, a tear falling down her cheek, her smile mirroring his as he said, "Emma, I love you so much."

He pulled her to him, and she met him halfway, shutting her eyes as their lips met again. Warmth filled her chest, racing through her, making her feel more alive than ever.

He loved her.

For all her brokenness.

For all her damage.

For her.

They pulled apart, just looking at each other, and Emma watch a tear slip down his own cheek, reflecting the setting sun. He smiled at her, and her lips followed, meeting his again, finding herself in him, her love, her other half.

The kiss broke once more, though they themselves were only more whole.

"Emma Swan," he whispered into her ear, smiling, pulling her to him only closer. "I am in love with you."

Emma felt another laugh in her chest, of elation. "I love you, Killian," she whispered into him, pulling back to look at him, her eyes shining, his a mirror of hers, blue meeting green, together the color of the sea.

She loved him.

She loved him.

More than she's ever loved anyone.

And he loved her back.

She melted into his kiss once again, feeling as if the last of her walls fell down, disappearing into the past along with his.

Emma felt herself flash back to that day in New York.

Finding herself there, in his arms, crying into his chest.

It was then her heart knew.

That no one, no one, has ever felt like him before.

He was her safety, he was her home.

He was the piece of her that had been missing.

She went from broken pieces shattered on the floor of an apartment, to whole.

Because of him.

And she loved him.

She loved him so much.

And he loved her.

She smiled into his chest.

The last time she said that to someone, they'd left her.

But here, Killian only pulled her to him tighter, only kissed her again, and somehow she knew he would never let her go.

The walls that had once held her up were now replaced with Killian, and she smiled.

She shut her eyes, holding him, kissing him, loving him.

He loved her.

She only smiled again.

That day in New York had felt like her end.

But it wasn't.

It was a chance—a gift, for both of them.

To begin again.