The darkness of the vortex swirled above and around him, so thick he could almost feel it within him as well, threatening to consume him entirely. And then he was there. Liam. He was a mere whisper of himself, floating in the air, his gaze full of overwhelming pain. He was no longer a captain but the essence of a corpse, all the years of his life he never got to live looking back at Killian from the darkness. And then suddenly he wasn't alone as another figure materialized next to him. Milah, her dark eyes far more angry in death than he knew in life, burned their way straight through to his soul. But he found pain there, too. Loss. Unfulfilled promises and dashed dreams.
They said nothing, but they didn't have to. He could feel their blame…his guilt…rising once again to the surface of his heart. He would carry it with him for the remainder of his life. It was his curse to bear…to forever lose those he loves.
A new figure appeared then, the physical sight of her far more real than either of the two who were already lost. Because she was still here, despite his failure.
He wanted to reach out to her…to save her from becoming another victim of his curse, but if he tried…if he touched her…he'd lose her for certain. The cost of his love was death. Pain. Loss. He'd thought perhaps that this time would be different. That true love could break the curse on his heart. But the last kiss he placed and would ever place to Emma Swan's lips would serve as an eternal reminder that true love was not a part of his tale.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, looking up at her green eyes that held the only color in the darkness.
Like the others, she did not answer. But unlike them, he found no trace of anger in her eyes. Only sorrow. The same kind of sorrow she had suffered countless times at the hands of each person who came into her life. The kind of sorrow he vowed never to cause her.
And then, she began to fade…until she took her place next to his brother and his former love. Her eyes were the last to go…their color darkening until blackness stared back at him. She took their hands and together they disappeared. Gone forever.
Killian shot up in bed, fumbling in the darkness until he found the switch for the lamp. He immediately looked up then, finding no vortex of darkness between this world and the dead. His heart pounded relentlessly against his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he surveyed the room once more, so certain that he would find this dream to be a reality. But again, he saw nothing but the room at Granny's he currently occupied.
A knock on the door sounded softly. His heart just beginning to slow, he stood up from the bed, still completely dressed from having drifted off, and crossed the room on uncertain legs to open the door, already knowing who stood on the other side.
She took a step back upon seeing him, her green eyes still very much alive though full of concern and fear. She was still dressed too, the pale white of her skin standing out in stark contract to her cerulean blouse. He longed to reach out and touch her, if only to remind himself that this wasn't his nightmare. But when he remembered that his curse was still very real, he realized that reality was the nightmare.
"I saw your light turn on and wanted to make sure you were all right," she said, eyeing him up and down as he opened the door further to allow her entry inside. "What the hell is going on?" she added after a moment.
"It's nothing to concern yourself with," he answered, the pain and exhaustion in his voice evident, as he no longer had the energy to hide it. It would do no good, as Emma's superpower was in full effect and he'd already given her reason to suspect something was wrong.
"Your hair is dripping with sweat," she said, reaching up as if to touch his forehead before he turned away.
"I've not quite mastered the control of the climate within this room," he replied, gesturing feebly to the device on the other side of the room that she'd once told him was responsible for heating and cooling. He was telling a half-truth. He never had figured out what to do with it.
"And that would explain why you're shaking, too, I guess?" she observed, her eyes on his hand, hanging down at his side. He tightened it into a fist before running his trembling fingers through his hair. "I need you to tell me what's going on with you. Right now." Her tone tried to be demanding, but he could hear the weakness in it. She was worried about him.
He sat down on the bed as she pulled up the desk chair so that she sat facing him, her legs nearly touching his.
"If you could say something more to Neal…speak with him one more time…what would you say?" he asked, unsure of why he said it, but finding himself wondering what the answer would be. She didn't question him, but instead met his gaze head-on.
"Nothing. If anything, I would give Henry a chance to talk to him." She glanced at the door, as if looking through the walls to the boy sleeping in the room across the hall, before turning back to Killian. "Is this about Milah? Or your brother?" She searched him for an answer, but seemed to come up empty as she awaited his answer.
"I failed them. I should have saved them, but I didn't."
"You couldn't," she corrected. "I don't know every detail, but I know that if you could have saved them, you would have."
"Losing them was my curse. Losing everyone that I care about is a curse that I've lived with for hundreds of years. And it's easy not to lose anyone when there's no one that you care about. But when I met you…" he paused, remembering the exact moment his eyes met hers for the first time. "I never saw you coming. And Henry. And your family…" he trailed off, the Wicked Witch's words still running through his mind. Her promise to kill them all if he didn't destroy the woman he loves. "I'm sorry, Emma." She scooted the chair forward until her knees rested flat against his, and despite his attempt to pull back, she took his hand.
"It's not a curse. It's a choice." He looked up to meet her emerald eyes, the intensity of them so strong that he felt his heart quicken its pace again. "Your brother and Milah? They chose you because they loved you. Your whole world can change in a second, but you make the choices that lead you there because it's what you want. No one can make them for you. You choose who you want in your life. Henry chooses you. I…choose you." He hung his head, the guilt of his choices weighing so heavily on him he felt he may be crushed beneath it.
Emma tipped her head down so that he had no choice but to look at her. As he leaned back up, she mirrored his movements, her eyes never leaving his. And slowly, she leaned in to him. He placed his hand on her shoulder, holding her back, despite everything within him drawing him closer to her.
"I'm haunted by the choices I've made, Emma," he said softly as Milah and Liam's faces appeared before his eyes again, along with the faded phantom image of Emma. "I have enough ghosts. I don't want you to become another."
"Killian," she said, his name always foreign and familiar in a way he'd never known every time it left her lips. "Whatever's holding you back…whatever you're afraid of…you're not alone. This is me making a choice. I want you in my life. I want you beside me. I want you."
"She'll take your magic," he admitted as she leaned forward again, stopping so close that he could feel her breath on his face. "Zelena. She disguised herself as Ariel, who I wronged in the Enchanted Forest during the missing year, and I couldn't spend another moment without confessing to her that it was my fault that her prince was missing. She asked me to swear on the woman I love to convince her that I was trustworthy…that I still believe in love. And I did. Emma, I swore on your name, and she cursed my lips. The next time that I kiss you, your magic will be taken. You'll be powerless. And if I refused, she threatened the lives of your family. I can't take away a part of who you are. I won't. And I won't let her hurt anyone you care about. I'll do whatever it takes to stop her." Tears pooled in his eyes but did not fall as Emma took his face in both of her hands, her green eyes hard, determined…strong. She didn't say a word as she closed the short distance between them and pressed her lips to his.
At first, he felt as if everything in his world was falling to ruin around him. He had failed….failed Emma, failed himself, failed everyone. But then, a blast of power emanated from the two of them, filling him with…well, he didn't have a name for it. It was new to him, this overwhelmingly powerful feeling.
Emma must have felt it, too, because she slowly pulled away from him in that moment, her lips drawing back into a smile.
"What is it?" he asked, confused. She turned, glancing back at the door again, but it wasn't until he saw his hook hanging from the doorknob that he understood.
True Love's Kiss. It was the only answer. It had the ability to break any curse.
"But why-?" he started his thought aloud before Emma interrupted, apparently reading his thoughts.
"You've spent all this time with Henry and haven't read his book yet?" He shrugged as she playfully rolled her eyes. "I didn't know you, so it didn't work. You should have asked David before you tried that move." He smiled for the first time in his own version of forever, his expression sobering again in response to Emma's hard gaze watching him. "I'm not a ghost. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere," she promised. Suddenly, he crushed his lips against hers as she met him with equal force. Everything that needed to be said…words that they would never have been able to articulate in any other way found their way into that kiss as the realization that neither of them ever had to be alone again washed over them. Without even a moment's separation, Killian felt the weight of his hook back on his arm, causing him to pull back. Emma gave him a questioning look, and he couldn't help but smirk.
"Do it again," he said as she grinned and, with a wave of her hand, was suddenly in possession of his hook.
"This is going to be fun," she said, hooking his shirt and tugging him until his lips met hers again. Killian wrapped his arms around her then, holding on tighter than he'd ever held to anyone or anything in his life, with no plans to ever let go.