Missing Pieces is the sequel to my fic "Leaving Neverland". With the exception of the events occurring in "Leaving Neverland", it follows show canon until Pan's Curse.

Feel free to read it if you want the um, hot steamy details, but the prologue makes it very clear what happened.

This prologue (which is the longest prologue ever, partially because my lovely beta kept saying "more more") begins shortly after we ended "Leaving Neverland" and follows most of the canon from 3x10 and 3x11 (until just before the curse hits). If the scene isn't mentioned, assume it directly follows canon. A few scenes were re-visted to show how the added (non-canon) events in Leaving Neverland might have had even greater effect on Killian and Emma.

Some dialogue is not mine and belongs to Once Upon a Time, as we re-visit canon scenes from the show.

And then we diverge into an alternate universe where… well, you'll see…

This will likely be a multi-chapter fic of undetermined length, lasting over the missing year.

Prologue

Swan was going to kill him.

Figuratively speaking.

Killian stared at Emma, willing her to look his way across the diner. To give him a sign, any sign that she welcomed his presence and he could approach her.

Look at me. Let me in.

Not a word.

Not a look.

Nothing since they'd arrived in Storybrooke.

Like he ceased to exist, faded away until only a ghost.

Please.

Her eyes flicked toward him and for moment—a tiny moment—the hope in his chest grew.

It was over with a blink, her eyes back to her boy.

Bloody hell.

Her actions were not a surprise, even expected.

He'd believed himself prepared for her to withdraw, to shove him away after allowing him so close.

But that bloody hope. Refusing to go away.

Her taste on his lips, his tongue. Her body and eyes telling him…

Whatever alcohol he swilled was not strong enough for what he had to do.

I'm making the right choice.

For the boy.

She and Baelfire have unfinished business.

She won't let him in.

Most likely.

She already allowed me to see inside, to glimpse her heart.

She will again.

But she's afraid to trust me.

I just have to wait.

Assuming the wait doesn't bloody well kill me.

"I didn't think they served rum at Granny's." Bae—Neal slid into the stool next to him.

Killian steeled himself, knowing what he had to do—his heart screaming as his lips moved. "Don't worry, I'm not here to pursue the Lady Swan."

"I don't care where you go boys, but you can't stay here. It's closing time." Granny shooed Killian, the dwarves, and a handful of other party goers out the door.

Bloody hell, what do I do now?

He couldn't go back to his ship—one step in his cabin and he'd be assaulted by memories of their night together.

The bearded dwarf—Grumpy, was it?—clapped him on the back. "The Rabbit Hole doesn't close until two."

Killian nodded at him. "By all means, mate, lead the way."

He hoped this "rabbit hole" was a tavern of sorts and served rum.

Perhaps if I'm drunk enough I shall forget the way she wrapped her body—

Bloody hell!

He followed the dwarves down the street, careful to keep his jovial façade in place, welcoming the cold air as it permeated his body.

It matched the chill in his heart, the image of her smiling at Neal all too clear in his mind. Killian cursed his inability to fight for her thanks to his conscience.

You did the right thing.

You're in it for the long haul. What are three hours, three days, three months, three years—however long it takes Swan to realize you will not leave her like all the others have—compared to the three hundred years spent seeking revenge?

She's worth three thousand.

But it hurt no less, this helplessness, the waiting, the small chance his gamble would fail and he'd be left in pieces, only living for her happiness. It would bring him joy—her smile able to light even the darkest part of him—but it would also slowly break him.

Better than revenge, mate.

Is it?

The warmth of the tavern rolled over him as they entered, Killian very thankful his guess as to the nature of The Rabbit Hole was accurate.

Playing the patient suitor would require a lot more rum than he currently possessed.

Tomorrow, he would torture himself all over again when she met Bae for lunch at Granny's and without alcohol, he might do something very, very stupid.

What was he doing here?

Killian stared at the number three on the door in front of him, his hand raised to knock, a dose of reality hitting him before he engaged in the very stupid action he'd hoped to avoid.

Damn dwarves, suggesting I come here.

Perhaps the entire night had been a plot devised by them to bring about his demise—because if the prince did not kill him for knocking on his door before dawn, surely Emma or her mother would.

Thank goodness part of his faculties returned in time.

He turned around and sagged against the door, sliding to the ground, unsure of where to go. The Jolly Roger awaited him, true, but he needed time away from her and the reminders she held.

How exactly did sitting outside Swan's door seem the better course of action?

Because the last time I visited Swan's, the prince punched me.

And twenty-four hours ago my tongue mapped every part of Swan's body. And her lips—

One of those memories was infinitely more painful to dwell on at the moment, and it was not the one involving harm to his person.

Bloody hell.

He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the door, certain a brilliant idea would arrive at any moment.

Killian fell backwards, his quick reflexes barely saving his head from hitting the unforgiving wooden floor. "Bloody hell!"

"Hook? What the heck are you doing here?" The prince stood over him, a perplexed expression painted on his face as Killian fought to clear the cobwebs of sleep from his mind.

It took Killian a moment to remember where he was.

Dwarves. Drinking rum. Lots of rum. Swan's door.

Bloody hell.

He attempted to stand. "Perhaps after all that time spent together aboard the Jolly Roger, I just cannot start my day without a gazing upon your princely visage." He fought to get the words out, realizing he had achieved something he'd not done in a very, very long time: a hangover.

Bloody dwarves.

It's not their fault. You're the one trying to forget her.

David rolled his eyes and grabbed Killian's arm, helping him to his feet. "I'm certain that's it." His eyes scanned Killian. "You look like hell."

Killian ran his fingers through his hair. "You certainly know how to woo a person, mate."

David leaned in. "You don't smell so good, either. You might want to take a shower."

"Why, Dave, are you trying to get me out of my clothing? What would your lovely wife say?"

I need to leave before Emma sees me.

I need to stay. I need to see her.

Bloody hell!

"I don't think it's Snow's opinion you care about, is it?" Concern flickered in David's eyes and Killian sensed his mask slipping.

Leave, before you reveal something better left buried.

"I'd best be on my way, so I may cease to offend your delicate royal senses." He winked at David and turned away.

"Hook?"

Killian paused in the hallway, but didn't turn around. "Aye?"

"If it's meant to be, you'll find each other. No matter what. You just need to have a little faith."

Killian resumed walking, the prince's words ringing in his head.

Emma's super power clanged in her mind, over and over, its echo refusing to go away.

Something was off with Henry.

And no one believed her. They waived off her concerns, refusing to believe her gut feeling.

But Emma knew. She knew.

She glanced at her phone for the hundredth time, waiting for the call from either Henry or Regina as her fingers grew numb in the cold.

She eyed the nearby docks, instinctively searching for the familiar silhouette of Hook before she stopped herself

I came here to be alone..

Liar. You came here precisely because you might see Hook.

She sighed, checking her phone again.

She didn't want to think about why she sought out the pirate instead of Neal—who was Henry's father and should know of her concerns.

Because Neal never believed in your super power.

I'm not thinking about this now.

And Hook does.

Shut up.

Hook believes in you, even when you don't believe in yourself.

Now is not the time for this.

Neal never understood you.

I have other things to deal with right now. Like my son.

It's pretty obvious who you trust.

I'm the Savior. I don't have time to trust anyone.

Says the woman who let Captain Hook taste every part of her body two nights ago.

"Dammit, shut up!" Her voice echoed over the water and she looked at the docks again, simultaneously hoping and dreading her words reached Hook.

You miss him.

"I don't."

Great, now she was talking to herself.

And lying while doing so.

Because she did miss him, far more than she'd expected.

She missed his smile.

The way her body caught fire from a simple glance.

And his touch.

Her dreams last night reminded her how she craved his skin against hers.

And she hated him for it.

Because she was the Savior—she didn't have the time or the luxury to be weakened by a relationship.

Her life was being the Savior.

So why am I still on this beach?

She heard the sound of footsteps and her heart beat faster, suddenly afraid to look and see if it was Hook.

"I thought Granny's was that way?"

It wasn't him.

Emma sighed and turned to look at David, happy to see him but dreading the likely reason for his arrival. "Did Neal send you?" She buried the twinge of disappointment — why hadn't Hook sought her out?—and refused to consider all that it meant.

Killian had to know.

Would she forgive Baelfire?

Or did he still have a shot?

He cursed under his breath, pausing his pacing outside the back entrance to the diner. He pulled the flask from his pocket—thankfully the tavern had finally opened and he'd convinced the bartender to allow him to refill his bottle. As the liquid slid down his throat he had the same conversation with himself he'd had all morning.

To what purpose are you here?

You gave Bae your word you would back off.

You cannot fight for her no matter how you wish it.

But perhaps if she sees me, she'll remember Neverland. Our night together.

You mean when she clearly stated she wanted to use your body to erase her nightmares, but it meant nothing deeper and you agreed to her terms?

Aye. That.

And you couldn't handle it.

I handled her quite well, actually.

But it backfired, didn't it?

Her walls are a force to be reckoned with. Tall. Thick. Seemingly impenetrable. But there are cracks one can sneak through if willing to look for them.

And if Bae uses those same cracks, only is allowed to stay because she loves him?

Then I need to know that is the case.

Killian entered the back hallway, eyeing the rum bottle as the internal conversation continued, knowing his refill would not last long at this rate.

Why? What chance do you, a pirate, have against her first love?

I have never abandoned her or broken her heart.

You're a fool.

Perhaps. But she would not push me away if she had nothing to fear from my presence.

Or she no longer has use for you now that she's back in Storybrooke.

She'd not be so callous, not after a lifetime of others using her.

You're so certain she cares for you?

I'd bet my life on it.

And if she cares for Bae more?

Then I hope both are happy together.

Liar.

He stumbled into someone, and it took a moment before he realized it was Tink.

Her eyes travelled over him. "Are you ok?"

No. "Fine, love." Tink gave a quick nod, taking his words at face value and turned away.

An idea formed.

He hurried around her, placing his hook on her shoulder to stop her. "The question is…. are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He plastered a smile on his face. "I know Storybrooke can be a disorienting place if you aren't used to it. Perhaps a drink to settle you in?"

So he wouldn't be alone when Emma met with Bae.

Tink glared at him. "We both know you want more than a drink. You want me to help take your mind off Emma."

As if that was possible.

Tink would never let him live down the night he tried to get her drunk—desperate to feel something after a century, give or take, of being trapped on Neverland—and lured her into his cabin only to find out even fallen fairies cannot get drunk.

No woman liked to hear she was second choice, however, and even though his intent was not to repeat the Neverland seduction—even if Tink suddenly changed her mind, he only desired Emma—he couldn't bring himself to correct her.

"Emma, who's Emma? I only see you."

Liar.

Tink rolled her eyes at him. "I may have lost my wings but I haven't lost my dignity. That's never gonna hap…."

The screams brought lucidity to Killian's body—somehow erasing hours of rum drinking in an instant—and fear raced through him.

Swan.

They raced outside and he was stunned to find Emma only just arriving with her father.

Why wasn't she with Baelfire?

Bloody hell, what did that mean?

Then her stare, her words, indignant with jealousy.

Jealousy over… Tinker Bell?

He said he'd not pursue Emma, but he was a pirate—he would not let the rare demonstration of her feelings for him escape without comment.

"Perhaps," he smirked, hoping she failed to detect the desperation behind his actions.

At least he was no longer a ghost.

Killian stood with the group—still stunned over the Crocodile's sacrifice—and listened as the Queen explained the only way to stop Pan's curse and the steep price of doing so.

Villains don't get happy endings, remember?

"You will take him, because you're the Savior. You were created to break the curse. And once again, you can escape it." Regina faced Emma, the queen empty of sarcasm, pain evident on her features.

No!

Killian couldn't lose Emma.

Not that she was his… yet.

But she'd renewed his hope again with her outburst of jealousy over Tinker Bell.

I cannot lose her, he thought again.

Regina's words circled in Killian's head as an idea formed—a desperate one—but not one without merit.

Perhaps not everyone will have to leave her.

Perhaps I will not…

Emma shook her head. "I don't want to. We'll both go back with everyone."

Killian waited while the others convinced the Savior of what she had to do.

To leave them. All of them. For the sake of the boy.

He saw the agony fill her—not wanting to lose the family she'd found.

He ached to go to her, to hold her, to whisper that everything would work itself out.

Not yet.

He watched Emma walk away—retrieving the small yellow vessel required to leave Storybrooke—knowing this would be his only chance to ask Regina.

Not wanting to raise anyone's hopes, he closed the distance between them and kept his words quiet. "Are you quite certain that only the Savior can escape this curse?"

She tossed him a sympathetic look—the lack of biting reply proof Regina was not at all herself at the moment. "It will take everyone, Hook. Including you."

"Aye, if I remain here. But what if I don't?"

She furrowed her brow at him. "What do you mean?"

"Will the curse be contained by the borders of this town, or will it travel the world and grab anyone not from this land?"

Understanding lit her eyes. "You think you can cross the town line and escape it?"

"Escaping curses is something I do, darling. If the curse stays within the town, then those of us who aren't bound by your curse should be able to leave. Yes?"

And Emma would not be alone.

"I don't know, Hook. If the curse allows you to leave while Pan's curse is in motion, it could work in theory, but—"

"Sorry to interrupt, Regina, but it's time. Can you transport us to the town line?" Snow White tossed a curious glance his way.

"Very well." Regina waved her hands—he always hated this part, wondering if he would materialize within a tree or other solid object—and moments later found himself and the others on a road surrounded by woods, the Storybrooke sign and painted red line marking the boundary of the town. The others began to say goodbye to Henry as Emma drove toward them and Regina leaned toward Killian. "There's a huge flaw with your plan, so I wouldn't try it."

"What plan? What's going on?" Snow White's words were loud, catching the attention of the prince and Neal.

Neal looked between them. "There's a plan?"

Killian swallowed, wishing he'd had the chance to discuss this with Bae alone, without Emma's parents listening, but lacked the time to do so. "I was merely trying to discern if it's possible for those of us not trapped by the original curse to leave the town and avoid returning to the Enchanted Forest."

David gave him a surprised look. "You might keep your memories because you escaped the first curse and since it is magic, this one can't cross the town line."

"Precisely, mate." Killian turned his focus to Neal. "You could stay with your family. Your son."

Emma.

But she wouldn't be alone.

The group's stunned faces swiveled to look at Regina.

"Would that work?" Neal asked.

Regina rubbed her temples as if a headache pounded between them. "I was just telling Hook. It might work in theory. The curse might not allow anyone other than the Savior and Henry to leave but even if you can, there's a bigger problem."

The door of the yellow vessel slammed and Emma got out.

"What problem would that be?" Killian scratched the back of his neck. Nothing was ever simple with magic.

It always had a price.

"When the curse washes over us it will send us all back. Nothing will be left behind. Including your memories. It's just what the curse does." Regina turned to Emma, sympathy in her eyes. "Storybrooke will no longer exist. It won't ever have existed. So these last years will be gone from both your memories. And we go back to just being stories again."

Think, bloody think, man.

"What will happen to us?" Emma's expression nearly killed him.

She'll be an orphan all over again, with no one but the boy to love her.

Lost to her parents, her friends.

Lost to me.

Think.

Regina shook her head. "I don't know."

"That doesn't sound much like a happy ending." Tears were in her eyes now.

Think! He shuffled his feet, wanting to pace but not wishing to draw attention to himself.

"It's not. But I can give you one."

Killian froze.

What could Regina have possibly meant by that?

"You can preserve our memories?" The hope in Emma's eyes was unmistakable.

She wants to remember them. Needs to remember them.

"No, I can do what I did to everyone else in this town. I can give you new ones." Regina clasped Emma's hands. "You'll have never given him up. You'll have always been together."

"You would do that?" He watched Emma grab onto the silver lining, trying to a mask her grief. "But it won't be real."

"Your past won't, but your future will."

Neal shuffled forward. "Could you give me memories as well? Perhaps—" he closed the space towards Emma and Killian clenched his fist, fighting the urge to stop him, "—we were always together. A family."

Bloody hell!

That's not what she wants! She wants what is real.

Neal left her.

He hurt her once. He would likely do so again.

You don't have a say in this. You can only offer to join them.

Emma stiffened and stepped back. "Neal… I.." She glanced at Henry. "You're Henry's father, you always will be, but I don't want a romantic relationship built on magical fake memories. I'm sorry."

Killian watched Neal deflate at Emma's rejection, trying not to rejoice in her adamant refusal while simultaneously sympathizing with Bae. Neal turned to Regina. "Will I remember any of this? My father's," he paused, swallowing before continuing, "sacrifice?"

Regina shook her head. "Nothing from Storybrooke will remain."

Only Storybrooke will go missing….

Killian cleared his throat, all eyes swiveling to him. "If the curse wipes only the memories of Storybrooke, does it stand to reason that events occurring outside of this town shall remain intact?"

Regina shrugged. "It's possible, but since you aren't from this world, it is equally likely you forget your entire life. Gold might know the answer but he's—" she broke off, actually tossing Neal an apologetic look. "If the curse allows anyone other than Emma and Henry to cross the line, I could give them new memories as well."

His gaze found Emma's, hope joining the agony swirling within the green depths.

Neal broke the moment, stepping between them, blocking his view of Emma, and wrapping an arm around Henry. He swallowed. "If I come with you but you have no idea Rumplestiltskin is my father and you believe you kept Henry, would you even allow me into your life?"

"I don't know." Killian couldn't see Emma, only Neal, but he heard the apology and the guilt in what she wouldn't say in front of the boy.

No. Neal would not be welcomed.

Neal nodded. "Maybe it's best if I go back with the others, then. I don't want to ruin the life you could have here."

"Neal, I—"

"Hey, this isn't goodbye. We'll see each other again." Neal pulled her into a hug and as her head peeked over his shoulder, her eyes found Killian's again.

Pain. So much pain.

She only allowed him seconds to view it, before closing her eyes and shutting him out, breaking away from Neal .

Killian watched the prince embrace Emma and Henry. Her mother kissed Emma's forehead and he saw the tears forming in her eyes.

No.

He would not let everyone leave her again.

She turned to her vessel, not even bothering to approach him to say good-bye.

Do I mean that little?

Or do I mean too much?

It didn't matter.

He would not leave her, not if there was a chance he could thwart this curse.

He strode toward her, blocking her path and she stopped, her eyes reluctantly coming up to meet his yet again.

"That's quite the vessel you captain there, Swan." He forced a small smile, hoping she would return it or perhaps roll her eyes.

Anything but shut him out.

Her eyes glistened; a tear escaping as she silently pleaded with him to help her hold herself together, a single sigh hinting how the slightest move might cause her to break.

The urge to cradle her close, fit her body to his, taste her lips and confess the depth of his feelings—in what might be his last chance—threatened to overwhelm him and he fought to contain it. She would not want such a public display now, particularly with her parents and son present.

The thunder of the curse broke through his thoughts and he knew little time remained.

Ask her.

And if she says no?

At least she'll know not every person was willing to abandon her.

He licked his lips, leaning closer, unable to hide his anxiety over what he was about to offer. "Perhaps you'd allow me to join your crew." He swallowed, the lump in his throat heavy as he waited for her answer.

Her stunned gaze traveled over his face, but he saw the vulnerability and the fear mingling with her shock. "You would do that?"

Do I let her see the depths of what I'm feeling?

Do I keep it hidden so I do not scare her away?

He settled on a compromise, allowing his eyes to reveal how very much he wished to remain by her side. "Aye."

"With happy memories of another life? Or a fake one of us?"

Hurt crept onto his face. He refused to hide it—not now, not with so little time to convince her. "Neither. What is life without a bit of risk now and again? I'll take my chances that only the memories of this town will be stolen."

"And if you forget your entire life?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Then I won't know any better, now will I?"

"What if you remember?"

He heard what she didn't ask.

What if you remember Neverland? If you remember the night we spent together?

His tongue traced his lips again and he leaned closer, until only inches separated them, his voice only loud enough for her to hear. "Then I shall have to save you."

"I won't know you." He saw another tear roll down her face and had to soothe her. He allowed himself to brush it away from her cheek with his thumb, her damp skin warmer than his cold fingers, and she shifted her weight, leaning into the caress.

Show her.

He tried to pour his heart into his gaze, exposing everything he felt, everything he dreamed, and how desperately he needed her in his life. "I will have to make you remember me, love."

The surprise faded away and a smile, small but no less powerful, formed on her lips. "Good."

Relief filled Killian and he fought to hold his body still when it wished to shake from the power of it. He reached for her hand and after a slight hesitation she laced her fingers with his. "Perhaps we should be on our way then." He nodded at the green cloud, ominous and crackling, wishing to be as far from it as possible, fear of it somehow reaching out and separating him from Emma far too real.

"Captain, if you could come here a moment." It was an order—Regina's tone made that clear—and Killian approached her, Emma by his side, her grip tight on his fingers.

She's afraid I'll leave her.

He traced her wrist with his thumb, trying to comfort her without making it obvious to the others.

"What is it, your majesty?" He forced any concern from his tone, hiding the anxiety that flared, wondering what else the queen might not have told them.

Regina gave a pointed looked at his hand linked with Emma's. "You do realize Emma's new memories won't include you and she will only remember the Captain Hook from the fairytales of this land?"

Emma's grip tightened on his hand and he nodded at Regina. "I do. You were quite clear on that."

"And you think she's going to let a leather-clad stranger with a hook just hang out with her and our son?"

Emma stepped forward. "Regina, I—"

Regina cut off Emma with a wave of her hand. "Because she won't. Not unless I intervene."

The queen had a point, not that Killian would let such a thing deter him. "I do not wish to have my memories magically altered."

Regina rolled her eyes, though the motion failed to hide a glimmer of respect. "Normally I'd be more than happy to let you stumble and fall flat on your face, but this is about my son." She looked at Emma. "Our son. I want him safe."

Emma tossed her an indignant look. "I can keep Henry safe, Regina. It's a lot easier in the real world without demonic teenagers casting curses."

Regina sighed and shook her head. "Do you think it's a coincidence that you found Neal—someone from the same land you were born—in a world of billions of people? There are likely others who exist and your magic could attract them to you—and our son—like a beacon. And if anyone from the Evil Queen's past should want to seek revenge on the thing I love most..."

Emma stiffened and Killian squeezed her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "What are you proposing?" Wariness dripped into his words, unsure what Regina had in mind.

"Nothing drastic, I assure you. Since Emma will remember absolutely nothing about us, I feel having someone close to Henry who knows of magic's existence could prove to be vital in case someone less amiable than myself should find the Savior. I am merely offering a reason for Emma to allow you to stay close enough to help, if need be."

He turned to Emma, asking the question with his eyes: Would she accept Regina forcing him into her life?

"What did you have in mind, Regina?" Emma asked, more curious than wary at this point.

"He'll be your roommate, ready to start a new life in a new country while you do the same in a new city. That way if something happens, he is close enough to help protect Henry."

A roommate?

Did that mean sharing the same room—the same bed?—or the same domicile?

"You want him to live with us?" She tried to pull her hand from his, but he refused to allow her to pull away, holding her firm. Her gaze flickered to his, a flash of fear on her face, before her eyes darted away, her fingers no longer fighting to escape his. "Why not in an apartment next door or something?"

Regina laughed with disbelief. "Perhaps you've watched one too many sitcoms, but people in a large city rarely interact with their neighbors. And even if they did, it could take months of the pirate stalking you before you became comfortable enough around him, assuming you didn't arrest him first." Regina shook her head. "He needs to live with you both, because that is the only way to ensure Henry is protected."

The fear remained in Emma's eyes, though she swallowed and nodded in agreement. "That makes sense. Hook?"

Only the same place of residence then, or the prince would have interjected by now.

He searched her eyes, trying to find the source of her fear. "I'll not agree to this if it bothers you, Swan." He squeezed her hand, still marveling at how she continued to allow the physical connection.

She licked her lips, her eyes returning the stare. "You don't think it might be a bit, um, awkward?"

Was she worried about… him?

I shall see her every day. At her most vulnerable.

I'll have to pretend our lips never touched. That I never swallowed her cries with my mouth, or tasted every inch of her body.

Bloody hell.

No wonder she does not wish for me to be this "roommate".

He gave his most confident smile, afraid if she witnessed his concerns she would change her mind and inform him his presence was no longer required. "I am always in favor of a solution that does not end with my death or incarceration."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "I'm armed. Try any funny business and nothing Regina does will keep you safe."

He heard what she could not say.

I'm trusting you, pirate.

"I'm always a gentleman, love." He traced his thumb along the inside of her palm, following the faint scar he'd bandaged for her, feeling her shiver in response. "Trust that I have no wish to jeopardize your son's safety or your own, only work to find a way to help you remember what you lost."

He watched the emotion war within her, wondering if he'd erred in his efforts to convince her. The fear still remained in her eyes, but it battled with so many other things, he had difficulty deciphering them.

Until he recognized one he knew could overpower the rest: hope.

God knows he'd learned how the dangerous, seductive, and strong the belief in hope could overrule fear and practicality.

He knew the moment it won as the tension left her body and she gave a quick nod to Regina.

Regina waved her hand and turned to Emma. "It's done. Time to leave and take care of our son." Tears graced the queen's eyes and he turned away, knowing she wouldn't want him to view her weakness and owing her the courtesy for her help.

Henry joined Regina one last time and Killian looked anywhere but at them, trying to allow their last moment privacy.

The prince found his gaze, filling it with both a wish and a warning. Protect her. Protect them both. But hurt her and you're dead, pirate.

Killian tossed him a small nod, and David answered with one of his own.

We have an understanding, mate.

Killian's eyes sought out Bae—Neal—next, his heart twisting at the sadness covering the boy he'd loved as his own.

Bae lost his mother, his father, and now his son.

The woman he loves.

Always the pirate, stealing what doesn't belong to me.

A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.

Rumplestiltskin drove Milah away. I did not force her.

I failed to kill the crocodile.

I did give up on Baelfire too easily, hurt and worried about what Pan might do to my crew because Bae would no longer hide his presence.

My attraction to Swan began long before I knew Bae fathered her boy.

I fell for her when I believed him dead.

I did all I could to ensure they had a chance together.

Neal chose not to stay.

I cannot leave her for Bae's sake, to spare him grief.

It might destroy her.

And she is everything.

So why do I feel no less the pirate for my actions?

The green cloud was uncomfortably close and Killian rocked on his heels, anxious to flee its reach.

He gripped Emma's hand tight, signaling to her his wish to leave and she returned the squeeze, before slipping her hand from his grasp.

"Come on, kid. We have to go."

Emma walked to her vessel with the boy and Killian followed, using the walk to trade his hook for his fake hand, burying any thoughts of failure.

If I cannot leave.

If I do not remember.

If I fail to win her over in her new life.

Later.

They climbed into the car, Killian in the front, Henry in the back, and he wondered if his memories would fade gradually, or if pieces of his life would simply vanish. Would he feel the gaps, or would magic glaze them over, the missing time an unnoticed blip in his long life?

Would he recall why he could not reach for her hand? Why he'd have to restrain from touching her? From kissing her?

Or would he assume she knew and push her too soon, undoing Regina's magic and finding himself alone and unable to get close to her again?

The vessel rumbled, roaring to life. Emma quickly moved a lever and they lurched forward.

Killian turned once, glancing behind him at her family—those she wished to remember—and vowed to find a way to reunite them again, hoping he'd recall it once Storybrooke disappeared. The town line remained behind them, so in theory he should.

In theory.

At least the curse allowed me to leave.

The green smoke turned purple as Regina's magic met Pan's and Killian used this last moment to reach for Emma, his hand crossing his body, needing to touch her before her memories were ripped away and replaced.

Not caring about Henry in the back—he wouldn't remember this either—he twisted, resting his hand on her leg, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

Her eyes flicked to his and he dropped his mask. Every shield and protective measure Killian utilized to prevent Emma from discovering just how far he'd fallen for her was tossed aside.

All of it gone.

"No matter what happens, Swan, my heart belongs to you."

The vessel swerved as she gasped in surprise, casting a frantic glance at Henry in the rearview mirror. "Hook, what are—"

"I love you."

A moment.

It was all Emma had.

A single moment of her heart picking up speed.

Of warmth filling her body.

Of meeting his eyes and gasping at the emotion bared for her to see.

I believe him.

Of panic, though whether it stemmed from her fear of trusting Hook or of never remembering she had, she couldn't tell.

Not in a moment.

A blink.

Four racing heart beats.

Then the moment ended—stealing all that came before it—erasing the memories of Storybrooke, her parents, her life, and of the one person who refused to leave her side: Captain Hook.

As always, love to my beta, Arandil.

ETA: Several reviewers seem to think "four racing heart beats" was a hint referring to Emma being pregnant, but even if she is, it's been three or four days at most since their night in Neverland together and a zygote would likely not even be implanted yet, much less have a heart beat. The "four racing heart beats" is the physical representation of how long that moment was for Emma, as in HER racing heart beat four times and that was all the time she had to process Hook's words before she lost her memories. Hopefully that clears things up. ;-)

Anyone else curious as to how this will play out?

Review?