This is really just a short little drabble that came to me. It takes place right during the next-to-last scene of 3x11 "Going Home". Of course, I do not own the show or any of the characters; they simply refuse to get out of my head!

Please enjoy – and leave a review if you're so inclined!

"Hooked"

By: TutorGirlml

Though she tries to fight it – tries to deny that Fate could be this cruel – the moment has come all too quickly. Everything is jumbled, panicked, happening too fast for her to catch her breath or respond as she would like. They learned only moments ago that imminent disaster is bearing down on them, and already Emma has to jump into action without the benefit of coming to terms with it. Looking around at the first true friends she has ever made and the parents she always wished for – that she has finally discovered and is only nowgetting to know – it seems impossible that she is about to leave them behind.

When her eyes find Killian's, she wants to scream at Regina, Pan, Rumplestiltskin, anyone with any of the power that has moved her like a cosmic chess piece her entire life; the unfairness of it almost staggers her. She has only just found this man, just begun to allow him past her walls. Now is when the fun was supposed to begin… She can hardly breathe, the pain is so sudden and unexpected, like someone striking her square in the chest and rendering her unable to draw in air.

She watches Henry say goodbye to Neal, watches him cling to Regina for a moment, still strikingly young for all his maturity and all that he has survived. It brings quick tears to Emma's eyes to see him comfort the Evil Queen, who has tears unashamedly running down her cheeks as well. It is one of the few times Emma can truly see through Regina's impeccable veneer. Henry is all the woman has, for her to give him up to Emma in his best interest makes Emma both feel for Regina and respect her in a way that she has not thought possible up until this moment.

Then, it's as though time skips and leaps forward again. They can see flickers of light and billows of green smoke creeping inexorably toward them. Snow urges her gently, a maternal hand smoothing her hair one last time as Emma's eyes fall closed to savor the fleeting comfort. She should have always had this. How can she give it up now?

"Emma, you have to go!"

He has already given her all the comfort he has to offer. "Not a day will go by I won't think of you…" still echoes in her head, but she wants more, needs more, and won't let herself ask for it. There should be more time for her stunted emotions to catch up; he stirs something in her that makes her want to feel again, despite the possible cost.

From the moment he emerged from that pile of bodies in the refugee village and their eyes met, Killian Jones has been climbing her walls. He has pushed with stubborn affection, playful flirtation, and actually coming back for her, until she now depends on him in spite of herself. He pestered and proved his way into her trust. He kept after her, and now she needs him. It is only when Emma has to quit him that she sees he is an addiction she can't admit. He has hooked her at last; she should have known the moment she gave in would be the moment he is pulled away from her.

All the tiny tokens of his affection – gestures she has been starving for all her life – flash through her mind in the next few moments. Offering his rum when he knows she is pained or troubled, backing her up without question, touching a strand of her hair as if it is priceless gold and then tucking it behind her ear, that one open, aching, hungry kiss and the way he had leaned into her desperate for another, the way he reads all she can't say behind her eyes "like an open book", the winks, the smirks, the arched eyebrow...they all ensnare her as she tries to make an escape. It is only for love of Henry that she is able to pull away.

Emma starts to move slowly, unwilling to turn her back on this rag tag band of survivors she is leaving behind. Now even Henry has turned and is getting into the passenger side of the car, but Emma can't make herself take that last step, lose these people who will soon go back to being stories, not ones she remembers, knows…loves.

Killian's eyes hold hers once more over the space between them. He has backed away to give her family their last moments with her, but the expression on his face pulls her to him all the same – blue and yearning, drowning her in regret, but in hope as well. It's as though he is still touching her across the distance, with only his clear, intoxicating gaze. 'I'll be here, Love. We'll find a way,' it seems to whisper as a caress on her skin, 'I won't forget, and I will find you again…'

Somehow, she is able to believe in him, if nothing and no one else. Before she realizes she has moved, she is getting into the car and putting it in drive. In the rearview mirror, she sees Regina raising her hands, sending purple magic up to meet the green cloud rolling in on them. One last glance at Killian shows him standing stoically; still looking after her with aching longing, but a determination too that bolsters her courage. His is the last face she sees as they are all swallowed up in the billows of purple-y ether and she begins to drive.

He has captured her – snagged her heart – and she has no choice but to trust that he won't let go. Just before she and Henry cross the town line, the smoke right on their tail, she can't help thinking, 'There is no way I will forget him…'