Oneshot - Hey guys! This is just a quick feels filled oneshot of killians perspective on when Emma went overboard inspired by this tumblr post. Enjoy!

When Hook saw her jump off the side of the Jolly, his heart stopped, as did his fight with the prince. "No. no, NO, not again," His mind yelled at him. This was just a nightmare, a dream. This was not happening again. Not on this same bloody ship, not in that same bloody spot.

Charming noticed the pirate had stopped fighting and followed his line of sight, seeing a flash of blonde hair before it disappeared.

"SWAN!" the pirate called out.

"EMMA!" Echoed her parents.

The rest was a blur. He vaguely remembered aiding the prince with the rescue, tying the rope around his torso. He remembered the rush of relief seeing Charming break through the water's surface with her blonde head. He recalled the sting of the rope chaffing against his hand as he rushed to pull them both aboard, and ignoring the pain because there was only one thought in his mind. Emma, be okay. By the gods, be alive.

There she was, her parents surrounding her cold body protectively, while he just wanted to rush towards her and check her pulse. This was his reoccurring nightmare, a memory of the past, but this was wrong, she shouldn't be in this scene, there should be a dark haired woman wrapped in his arms, not a blonde one wrapped in her parents. This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now, not when he had only just…

But she just lay there, still, unmoving, unbreathing, and lifeless. His heart hadn't beat since he had seen her go over, and now it felt on the verge of tearing in two. He couldn't breathe, not while her lungs were not taking in air. Maybe if he didn't inhale long enough, she would have enough air to breathe, maybe he could trade places with her. There must be something that he could do, because she couldn't be gone. No…

Just when he was about to give up hope, he heard a gasp, a choked cough, and someone gulping for air. His heart started beating again and he began to breathe. Hot, wet tears threated to prick at his eyes and his throat closed up. She lived. She was okay. He wanted to rush to her and wrap her in his arms. He longed to feel her body against his and check her for any other damage. He desired to feel her golden hair, to plant kisses upon her forehead.

He mentally rebuked himself for such thoughts. She wasn't his, after all. He held no claim to her nor did he have a right to be so worried about her.

Yet he was. And in that moment, as Emma resurfaced to the land of the living and her parents sobbed over her heaving form, Hook realized that something had shifted in his feelings for the lass. That it had been shifting ever since she had climbed that beanstalk with him. That he had been trying to ignore it, but could do so no longer. After all either one of them could die any day on this blasted island, and he could not lose her without telling her the truth.

Hook fancied Emma. And he was determined to let her know just that.