I am so fragile right now because that finale was everything
Here's just a lil follow up angsty drabble about Emma feeling guilty for taking Regina's happy ending.

"What's wrong, love?" his voice tore through her haze, dragging her from her mind back to the darkened hallway between their two rooms at Granny's.

A 'nothing' immediately rose to her lips like the clockwork her walls had become, pushing away without even hardly realizing it. But then his eyes caught hers, open and searching, brow furrowed, and the word melted from her tongue. Tendrils of guilt surfaced in it's place, twisting and burning her insides and all she could see was Regina on loop, shifting before her eyes from lovesick and doe-eyed to hard and broken.

Actions have consequences.

And this… this was all on her.

She felt her lip begin to tremble and bit down on it, hard, struggling to ground herself. Killian's eyes narrowed, searching her, and she clenched her teeth, shaking her head.

"You were right," she muttered, hoping on everything that her voice wasn't as shaky as it sounded, "I shouldn't have saved Marian."

Realization clicked immediately behind his widened eyes, and he took a small step towards her to touch her cheek, where she hadn't even realized a tear had escaped to. He trailed his thumb down to her chin, and tilted her head gently to look at him.

"Emma…" he said gently, and her heart clenched because the way he said her name made her wonder why it took her so damn long to let him love her. "You can't tell me that reuniting her with her boy wasn't worth something, love."

"It was!' she retaliated immediately, but her heart tugged, "I mean, it is… But Killian… She's supposed to be dead and now because of me…"

Her voice trailed and he was still searching her face, taking in every line and dimple with a quiet tenderness that she still wasn't accustomed to being on the receiving end of.

"You think you've taken Regina's happy ending," he finally said, beginning it like a question but finishing it as a statement, eyes boring carefully into her own.

Another wave of guilt dragged at her stomach and her eyes drifted to the floor.

"Emma," he whispered again, voice taking on a lilt she could only describe as urgent.

He touched her chin again, gently, dragging his thumb up her cheek to catch a stray curl and twirling it once between his fingers before tucking it slowly behind her ear and running his thumb down her jawline, back to her chin. He left a burning trail wherever he touched her, but not at all unpleasantly.

"You saved an innocent, love," he told her firmly, once she'd met his eyes again, and she could only ache because she was so happy and she was the reason that Regina wasn't.

"Regina hates me," the words squeaked past her lips unbidden and she swallowed hard.

Actions have consequences.

Just like your mother.

He was watching her silently, quiet concern wrinkling his brow— listening.

"I took her happy ending."

His eyes narrowed dubiously at her and her stomach clenched, wondering how the hell he planned to talk her out of this one.

"Darling," he muttered, and she could've sworn there was a touch of amusement hidden somewhere in his expression, "If you hadn't saved Marian, she would've died at Regina's hand. I don't know how things work around here, but generally in the Enchanted Forest, people don't make a habit of bedding their previous spouses murderer."

The twisting in her stomach faltered momentarily as she considered his words, turning them over in her mind.

He did have a point.

But she'd still brought her back and surfaced the issue and God, it was her fault.

"That doesn't change the fact that I took Robin from her," she finally answered, and he could only stare at her in disbelief, "She has every right to hate me! I mean… what if the situation were in reverse, Killian?" he was shaking his head defeatedly, but his eyes never left hers, "What if she and Robin went back in time and came back with… with Milah?"

She was certain she'd gone too far, but when she finally looked at him she was only met with disbelief.

"You think I'd stop loving you if Milah returned," he stated, and uneasy butterflies joined with the circus already swirling in her stomach. He watched her carefully through slightly narrowed eyes, searching for the reaction she struggled to swallow.

Her heart was thudding against her chest and she felt so small and childlike. Opening up to him, letting him in— it was terrifying. She wanted desperately to go back to the start of their conversation, to just give him the 'nothing' she'd been prepared to spout anyway because this, right now, was too dangerous, too close to letting him in, and—

"I'm not the same man that I was when I was with her," he told her gently, finally, and vulnerability was etched into the lines on his face. He was studying her oh-so carefully, and her heart twisted.

"But you loved her," she answered, brow furrowing.

"Aye, and I always will," he told her gently, honestly. His expression was so open and defenseless and for a moment, she couldn't breath. "But bringing her back could never bring back what we had. It was another life. Being with her now would never work, could never work."

Her lip was trembling again and he was still just staring at her with those damn wide eyes, reaching out again to tenderly catch her tears, waiting for her. When she remained silent, he cradled her jaw, running his thumb out across her cheek.

"Emma, I love you," his soft voice shook slightly and he looked so young and afraid but he stared at her with open wonderment, cradled her face with a reverence mingled with just enough disbelief, just enough caution, that she almost worried that she might just disappear at any moment.

He shifted his hand, tangling his fingers into the long strands of her hair, dragging behind her head and bowing his own towards her, pressing his forehead to hers and meeting her lips cautiously, gently. His nose brushed hers and she finally let out the breath she'd been holding, letting herself fold into him.

He kissed her so carefully, tenderly, and she ran her hands up his chest and clutched his shoulder with one, tangling the other up into his hair, nails dragging against his scalp as she tugged him closer, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, pulling at his lips.

Her heart thudded against her chest and she didn't want to let go of him, ever.

When he did pull back it was just a moment, before brushing his lips across the corner of her mouth, ever so lightly, then running his fingers back out to the ends of her hair, letting her go.

He kept his forehead pressed firmly against hers, and she left her fingers carded through the soft locks at the nape of his neck.

"Regina and Robin will work something out," he promised her gently, eyes softly meeting hers. He tilted his head slightly, bumping her nose with his, lips tugging into a small, sad smile, "Don't let her unhappiness take yours, love."

She studied his expression, replayed his words, attention flittering every time his soft breath tickled her cheek.

His forehead pulled from hers and before she could miss the pressure, he replaced it with a soft kiss.

She still was aching with guilt but his lips on her skin dragged a different burning sensation through her, one that easily overrode every bit of her awareness and made everything in the world just them, revolving entirely around every point of contact and making her mind buzz dizzily. She tightened her fingers in his hair, drawing his lips from her forehead to meet hers again, consciousness pulsing.

She'd waited too long to feel home to let it be ruined.