The bitterly cold wind bites through the thin material of her jacket, chilling her to the bone. Damn this thin jacket, damn the Snow Queen, damn Killian Jones and damn the magic that flows through her own veins.

"Emma, please! Stop! We can help you with this, you just need to calm down!" The pleading voice of her father finally reaches her ears.

She shakes her head violently, tossing the blonde waves of her hair into the icy wind. Her trembling hands reach out as a warning to stay back, but she quickly pulls them back, close to her chest.

"Stay away from me! I can't control this, and I can't hurt you too!" Hot tears sting her eyes as she her thoughts return to Killian, who, because of her, lies motionless back on the couch in the loft. Dead.

"My love, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's surviving."

His words echo rancidly in her mind. No human would've been able to survive that blast of magic. Not even Captain Hook.

Two hours ago.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You can do this. Just breathe," his voice is soft and his breath tickles Emma's ear as he whispers reassurances to her. She squeezes her eyes shut a bit tighter, listening until the crunch of his retreating footsteps on dry leaves comes to a halt. She inhales deeply, filling her lungs with air. As she exhales, she tries to picture the magical energy flowing out of her fingertips. Tries to imagine it hitting the exact center of the distant target they'd set up for practice. Instead, the burst of magic flows too strongly, hitting not only the entire target, but the surrounding trees as well.

"Dammit!" Emma shouts a bit too loudly, stomping her foot against the forest floor. A childish reaction perhaps, but she couldn't care less at the moment.

"Oh, my poor dear," The Snow Queen's voice is sudden, and Emma whirls about, shocked, searching for the source. Only a moment later she steps out from behind a nearby tree. Thrown off guard during her momentary outburst, Emma spins to face the other woman. Killian has already drawn his sword from the scabbard at his side, and points it at the Queen's neck, only a few inches away from the intended target.

"Stay away from her," he growls.

"Now now, fearsome pirate," her voice is too quiet, too calm, and it sends shivers down Emma's spine. Or perhaps it's her magic, prickling through her body, begging to be released. "Let's not get testy, shall we? I'm only here to talk to Emma."

"Unless you're here to explain what it is you want with me," Emma snaps. "I don't want to hear it!"

"All in good time, Emma. First, there are other things that need to be discussed."

Too much, it's all just too damn much.

"Are you here to tell me what the hell we were talking about in your shop when I first got to Storybrooke? Or, could it be about why you were my foster mom all those years ago? Are you planning to tell me why you wiped my memories?" Her voice is tight, and she must steady herself between sentences to keep her voice from cracking. She clenches her fists together, barely registering the small pop and spark of fire that crackles and sets fire to a pile of dry leaves beside her.

"Emma... " The worry in Hook's tone is evident.

The Queen takes a small step forward, a trail of ice underfoot stretching farther. "Really, Emma. There are more urgent things that you should kn-"

"No!" She retorts. She holds up an outstretched hand. "Not one step closer."

"You need to know who you're dealing with, little girl. You can't even control your powers yet," the terrifying calmness in her voice now gains a threatening edge. She raises a hand, pointing a finger at Emma. A freezing blast of magic hits her at once, pushing her roughly to the ground.

"Swan!" Killian's sword falls to the ground as it's owner rushes to her side, his warm hand rubbing warmth back into her cold arms.

Anger floods her, before she quite realizes that's happening, a blinding pulse of light is surrounding her. White magic. Her magic.

The Snow Queen disappears in a snowy cloud before the ring of light reaches her, but a loud thud and a guttural groan tells Emma that she did indeed hit someone. A sickening feeling of dread begins to form in her stomach as she nervously pushes herself onto her feet.

"Killian?" There is no response. "Hook?"

And then she sees him.

No. No. NO.

He's on the ground, on his back, motionless.

Emma rushes to his side, hastily feeling for a pulse. His chest moves slowly up and down; he is breathing, but the breaths are slow and labored.

"Come on Killian, stay with me. Stay with me, you hear me?"

"Swan... " His voice is weak, and as he moves his hand to reach toward Emma's face, it's clear that he's using every last ounce of strength in his body to do so.

With one hand interlocked in his, Emma fumbles with her left to free her walkie talkie from her belt.

"David! Dad, please. You have to get over here."

Silence.

More silence.

"David!"

"I'm coming Emma, where are you? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" David's panicked voice finally comes through the speaker.

"It's Hook. He's hurt! I… I hurt him. Oh God, it's my fault."

"Emma, slow down. What happened? Where are you?"

"In the woods. By the well. The Snow Queen came by, and… Just come quickly. Please!"

"I'm on my way."

She tosses the walkie to the ground, returning her full focus to Killian.

"You're gonna be fine." She tells him, feigning the confidence she lacks.

He doesn't reply, he only smiles weakly at her before his eyes close. His smile falls as her tears do.

She only vaguely registers David's presence as he runs toward them.

Now.

"Emma, please. Come back inside."

Mary Margaret is here now, the baby swaddled warmly in her arms.

"At the very least," she sighs. "You need to say goodbye."

It takes another few moments of parental advice, but Emma finally, reluctantly gives in. Her hands begin to shake as she turns the doorknob, and she's not sure how she's managing to force her wobbling legs to carry her to Killian. Her parents stand on the opposite side of the open door, giving her privacy while still being near enough to offer support if needed.

She sits on the edge of the couch, her right hand resting gently on his own hand while her left hovers hesitantly above his cheek.

Her whisper has barely audible as she whispers,

"You said you wouldn't leave me, you know. You promised me."

This is all too much. All too sudden. All too surreal.

Her cheeks are wet with tears now as she smoothes the disheveled hair away from Killian's closed eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She presses her lips softly against the edge of his mouth, feeling only coldness rather than the tingling warmth she's grown used to feeling when

they kiss. Though it feels like a lifetime, she lingers there only for a moment before silently returning to her feet and covering him with the blanket that David hands her.

Finally, she turns back to her parents. Her arms fall limply to her sides as she stands in silence, glancing up helplessly.

David is the first to reach her, embracing her in a tight hug. Mary Margaret, having set baby Neal down in his cradle, is there an instant later, wrapping Emma in a complete cocoon of comfort. But it's not comforting enough to distract her from what's just happened. Guilt slithers through her, followed by anger - at the Snow Queen yes, but mostly at herself.

With her thoughts racing with these emotions, she doesn't hear the sudden intake of breath from behind her. She doesn't even hear the whisper of her name at first, not until he repeats it and her parents instantly release her.

She whirls around to face him.

"What... What the hell?" She gasps, not entirely convinced that her mind isn't playing tricks on her.

It isn't.

"Killian?" She gasps loudly, pulling herself away from her parents. She rushes to his side. This time, when she takes his hand, it's warm and it's grasping hers just as tightly as she's holding onto his.

"What in the bloody hell just happened?" His voice is still weak, but he's talking and he's alive is all that is running through Emma's mind.

"An act of true love." Mary Margaret speaks up, sounding rather shocked herself. "Emma, you kissed him. You saved him."

"I… I did what now? I don't… I don't understand!"

"True Love's Kiss, darling." Killian says, a shy smile growing on his face.

How is it possible to feel so many emotions all at once? A vague urge to run at the sound of "True Love" was suppressed immediately by the way Emma felt as she looked back at Killian. There was no doubt of her feelings for him, especially not now.

"We should leave them alone." Mary Margaret whispers to David, tugging him away by the sleeve of his shirt.

"We don't have to talk about this now, you know." He whispers, as if reading her thoughts. She nods in agreement and thanks as she helps him slowly sit up.

"I told you, Love. I'm a survivor." He smirks, changing the subject.

"Yeah, well… Next time you don't need to be so dramatic to get me to kiss you."

"Is that so?"

Her lips meet his again in an instant, interrupting his ridiculous grin.