She knew something was off. She'd known it the moment he'd embraced her in the manor, clutching at her desperately and staring at her as if he'd never see her again, as if this was goodbye. But, as usual for the life of the Savior, her worries and suspicions were pushed to the side in favor of more pressing matters. In this case: the mysterious, magic-siphoning yellow ribbons that she and Elsa couldn't remove despite their many attempts—an unwelcome gift from their "sister," they were sure.

Despite being pulled into yet another magical crisis, Emma still noticed a change in her pirate. When she'd look at him sometimes without him knowing, she'd notice a sort of blankness in his eyes—one that was quickly covered with a smirk when he noticed her attentions, though even that felt like a pale imitation of the smile she'd grown accustomed to. Whenever she mentioned anything to him or asked him if everything was okay, he'd shrug it off, saying that everything was fine, of course; she didn't have to worry about him; she just needed to concentrate on taking down the Snow Queen.

Then there were his kisses. While he had never been short on passion before, there was a raw edge to the way his lips moved against hers now. Not to mention the fact that he would grab her out of nowhere and pull her into his arms: when they were just walking down the street, or grabbing coffee at Granny's, or poring over town records and Emma's own foster care records searching for clues. Not that she was complaining, per say, but while her heart raced and her blood pulsed hot under her skin when he kissed her, it ran ice cold when they pulled apart and she saw that same fierce, fraught expression filling his eyes and squaring his jaw. Even when he tried to cover it up with a suggestive quip, it still lingered, and it made her heart plummet into her stomach.

Still, he was still there, by her side, assuring her everything was alright, and she was beginning to worry that it was her, not him. That maybe she was just so broken she couldn't accept that things could be fine. Maybe she'd grown too used to heartbreak and disappointment that now she was determined to find flaws where there were none. Maybe it was all in her head, and she just needed to push it down, ignore the gnawing doubt that seemed to have taken up a permanent residence in her gut and just be happy.

Easier said than done.

She was trying, though. She ignored what her mind perceived to be warning signs, even when every atom in her body was screaming at her not to, and forced herself to smile back and stop asking him what was wrong. It wasn't working, but she was trying. And if her heart broke at the thought that she might never stop feeling this tugging sense of paranoia, well, she kept that to herself.

Then Henry came bursting through the doors of the sheriff's department one day, eyes wide and searching until they landed on her, sitting alone at her desk.

"Hey, what's up, kid?"

Henry ignored her question, reaching into his backpack and rummaging around for a moment before fishing out an object and slapping it down onto her desk. She looked down in confusion, then back up at her son with even more questions swimming though her mind. Her hand reached out and grabbed her phone, the one that had gone missing a few weeks back, the night she'd almost rid herself of her magic. She'd assumed she'd dropped it somewhere in the confusion—her thoughts had been a bit preoccupied with the electricity literally shooting out of her fingertips, so it hadn't really surprised her that she might not have noticed its absence. It hadn't mattered much, though—she'd gotten a replacement, and though she'd lost everything that was on her old phone, it hadn't taken her more than five minutes to program her contacts back in (she'd grimaced as she input Grumpy's information, already dreading the multitude of calls she'd inevitably receive from the panic-stricken dwarf).

"Where'd you find this? Did you go back to the manor?" she asked, turning the object over in her hands. Her thumb pressed down on the power button, but the screen remained blank. Dead, unsurprisingly.

"No," Henry answered, the tone of his voice putting her on edge immediately. "At the pawn shop."

"Gold's?" Emma questioned. "Why would he have my phone? Was he trying to sell it?"

"No, that's the weird part. It was in the back room, with all of the secret stuff he doesn't let anyone near."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Anyone? But he let you?"

Henry looked down sheepishly. "Well, not exactly. He might have told me specifically not to go near anything back there, but...I'm helping my mom try to find out more about the fairytale book, so I was trying to find clues."

Emma waved a hand in the air to stop him, her other hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I don't even want to start to get into why you and Regina are trying to find out about that book and how dangerous it is for you to sneak around Gold like this, family or not.." Henry visibly deflated with relief, and she quickly added: "We'll talk about it later, don't get me wrong, kid, but right now I want to talk about why he had my phone back in his storage of mysterious objects."

Henry shrugged. "No clue. But, mom, there has to be a reason he took it and kept it. Maybe there's something on it, some information he's using."

Emma frowned, her hand digging in her desk drawer to find her phone charger, plugging the dead phone in and pressing the power button again, watching now as the screen lit up as it booted up. "Unless he's dying to get his hands on the Storybrooke contact registry, I can't imagine anything—" She cut off as her phone finally loaded.

"What? What is it?" Henry poked his head around her shoulder, straining his neck to look at the screen.

"Two voicemails, from Killian." She looked at the date of the calls. "From the night my phone went missing, the night I…" she trailed off as she pressed the voicemail icon. "Probably nothing, just him trying to contact me and stop me from going through with it."

Emma held the phone up to her ear as the first message played. Killian, telling her to call him right away, because she might never make it home for hot cocoa—ever. A bit melodramatic (she was just getting rid of her magic, after all), but he was worried about her; she couldn't fault him that. But then the next message began to play. Her heart stopped, her breath stuck in her throat, and her chest tightened painfully as his broken voice echoed through her phone.

Collect her powers. A magic hat. Suck her in. The dagger is fake. It was all so much to take in so suddenly, Emma didn't know how to process it all. And then… Killian had been lying to her. Blackmailed. Wanted to be a better man, but failed (God, that made her want to scream, because he didn't need to change for her, didn't need to try and prove anything to her, not now. How could he not know that?). He might lose her. I'm sorry. He hopes she never forgives him, because it means she got his message in time. Goodbye.

The message cut out, the harsh beep of her voicemail taking its place, and Emma slowly lowered the phone to her desk, hand shaking. Gold had been blackmailing Killian—for how long? She suddenly flashed back to their first date, his reattached hand, and how he'd explained it as the Dark One "kindly restoring" it because he'd changed his ways. And then later, at the station, when he'd shown up with his customary hook in its place, he'd again shrugged it off, claiming that the magic wasn't all he'd hoped it would be. His hand hadn't been a gift from a reformed Gold—it'd been a pair of shackles, guaranteeing Killian would be indebted to him. And Gold always collected on his deals.

"Mom? What was it?"

Henry's inquisitive voice broke through her muddled thoughts, and Emma shook her head to clear her mind before looking up at her son.

"Nothing you need to be worried about. But kid, I need you to stay away from Gold." Henry opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to silence him. "I mean it. I know you're trying to help Regina, but Gold is not someone we can trust right now, and I'll be damned if he hurts you. Can you do that for me? Will you promise to do that for me?"

Henry nodded, his brow creased in worry. "I promise. But, mom, what's wrong? What did Killian say? Did Gold do something to him?"

Emma leaned over and ruffled Henry's hair as she stood up, pulling on her jacket and stuffing her old phone in her pocket. "Yeah, he did. I'm not sure what, but I'm going to figure it out. You need a ride?"

Henry shook his head as they walked outside. "I'm meeting mom for lunch at Granny's, but I can walk there."

"Well, that's where I'm headed, too, so hop in."

Emma had left Henry downstairs, sitting at the counter with Regina, and now she was standing in front of Killian's door, shifting her weight between her feet and waiting for him to open the door. She'd been thinking (hard) about everything during the drive over, and for another ten minutes as she'd paced the hallway downstairs before coming up here. It just didn't add up. Killian had been willing to tell her all about his deal with Gold before, so why hadn't he said anything since? Why had he insisted everything was fine when it clearly wasn't? (She hated that it made her feel the tiniest bit relieved that it hadn't been all in her head, that he really was troubled about something). She couldn't believe that he would continue to hide that sort of secret, not after hearing how broken up he was about it over the phone. Had Gold gotten to him again? Threatened him?

And then, just when she was beginning to worry she'd wear a hole in the ground below her, she'd frozen in place. His blank stare, the unnatural smirks, the desperate way he'd held and kissed and stared at her, as if...as if it was the last time. It was familiar, in many ways—it reminded her of how Graham had acted when he'd been struggling against Regina's control. Emma felt tears prickle the back of her eyes as realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Gold had his heart. Gold had taken Killian's heart.

The door swung open now, revealing a slightly stunned Killian.

"Swan? Not that I'm complaining, but why are you here?"

Emma had swallowed back her tears downstairs, had her features schooled into a flirty smile. She wasn't a hundred percent familiar with the heart-taking process, but she knew they could control their victims to a certain extent, so she had to assume Gold could see and hear everything Killian did. She stepped closer, forcing Killian to step back into the room.

"I was dropping Henry off for lunch, figured I'd stop in to say hi before I have to head back to the station."

"Is that so? Well, love—"

Emma cut him off with her lips against his. He was still for a moment before responding in kind, his hand settling on her hip and his hook sliding against her lower back, pulling her in. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to give herself over to the kiss (because the man could kiss, and she felt her skin tingle all over from it), but Emma managed to slide her hand up, letting her palm settle on his chest, directly over his heart—which should have been racing at that point (hers sure as hell was). Instead, she felt nothing. Not a single heartbeat reverberated through her hand, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hide the despair filling them as she pulled away to rest her forehead against his.

"As much as I want to continue this," she breathed, keeping her eyes closed, "I really have to get back to the station."

"Duty calls," Killian responded, a little forlornly. His hand reached up and he wrapped a wayward curl around his finger. "I'll see you tonight? For dinner?"

The raw emotion in his voice, the anxious edge to his words (he thinks he's going to die, he thinks he's going to die) made her open her eyes, and she pushed down her feelings, hoping he could only see the lust that was still warming her blood from the sensation of his kiss.

"Looking forward to it." She leaned forward to press another short kiss against his lips, then stepped back into the hall. "See you then."

She waited until she was outside, in her bug, and pulled into an abandoned parking lot before she let the tears fall. Once she'd cried it out, she pulled out her phone, hitting the speed dial and looking up into her rearview mirror as the phone rang. She wiped away the tear tracks on her cheeks and watched as the unrestrained anguish filling her eyes faded into a steely fury and resolve.

"Dad? Gold has Killian's heart. We're going to get it back, and then he's going to pay."

Killian had promised her once upon a time that he would win her heart, and now that he had (yes, she would admit to herself now that she loved the infuriating pirate), she was determined to get back his.