a/n: Thanks so much to shashashauna, Raven Mockheart, raeganb123, williamsh21, Moultipass1, lizdarcy1813, style28, laurenkmyers, Mrs-N-Uzumaki, Cynnx, fox24, DearieMate, PATRLC, The Corsair's Quill, swishandflickwit, JLJMc, alexandra-sarafolean, thewulf, DarkRoseShadow, onetreefan, lilyjones87, Ayyyylmao, AnaidT, pinkcat4569, CuteMcBeauty, and lookbackatme!

Here's the final epilogue to tie things up. :)

NOW
(i don't believe that we can fail this time)

Even by the time they're back up in the loft, Killian still can't quite believe that the last few hours have been real. Every now and then he'll think he's drifting off into a memory or daydream and start to kick himself, tell himself don't even think about it and kidding yourself will just make it hurt more only to realise that wait – Emma Swan did indeed just kiss him – and they really are back together after all.

David found them like that; huddled by the side of the road in each other's arms. He barely restrained from commenting then and he is struggling just as much now, as he moves up to where Killian is sitting in front of the heater in their apartment, and passes him a cup of steaming hot tea.

"There you go," he says, taking a seat opposite.

Killian nods his thanks, wrapping his fingers around the mug and just holding it, letting the warmth seep back into his fingertips. After so long out in the cold it is taking a while to thaw.

David is staring at him, and after a few minutes Killian raises an eyebrow.

"Something you want to say, mate?"

David's eyes flicker to Emma. She's huddled on the couch, phone in hands, texting Henry where he's back at Granny's. The storm is still raging outside – though less intensely than it was in the forest – and they can't bring him over to the loft just yet. Mary Margaret is raining down on her daughter with blankets and cushions until she's now practically buried under a mountain of pillows.

David opens his mouth, then hesitates. Killian catches on quickly; he wants to ask why they were holding hands when he found them, and kept holding hands during the car ride there, and have been acting more comfortably around each other than they have been in weeks – but at the same time he doesn't want to assume, to hurt Killian with possibilities if it turns out he's mistaken after all.

Killian smiles, half-amused and half kind of touched. "It's fine, mate, you can ask."

"You guys... fixed things?" David asks, and Killian nods. David's face brightens. "All the way? I mean, are you back together again?"

"I... think so?" He realises suddenly that they never said it out loud, never made it official – then realises just as quickly that they don't need to. They both know. "Yes," he says, more confidently. "We are."

David's grin is so wide it nearly splits his face in half. He claps Killian on the shoulder hard enough to almost make him spill his tea.

"That's great! It was only a matter of time, really." At Killian's unimpressed look, he laughs. "I'm serious. You were both miserable. Everyone could see that you wanted to get back together. Except you two."

That's not entirely true; he always wanted to fix things – just didn't know how to, was too wary about what Emma might want – or not want – to dare try for fear of making things worse.

He smiles, though. "Well, it worked out in the end."

"Killian, David!" Emma calls from the couch. "Get over here, will you? I want to know what happened with Regina."

They rise and walk over. Killian hovers by the couch for a minute before Emma grabs his arm and pulls him to sit down next to her, throwing half of her blanket over him. He sees Mary Margaret raise her eyebrows, then give a small smile before turning away to go and check on Neal.

"So what happened?" Emma asks, looking up at David.

"When none of us found Elsa we all met back up at the road – except you guys. We figured you must have found her, so Regina set off in the direction you'd taken and the rest of us headed back to town to help out. I guess Regina must have confronted her and upset her, and that's what made the storm so much worse," David explains.

It certainly fit the time frame when the winds had suddenly gotten supernaturally strong; strong enough to blow apart the entire cabin. Killian shivers at the thought of the magical confrontation going down in that terrible ice prison. Elsa's edifice reminds him of himself; a physical manifestation of the way he pulled away after Liam's death and even more after Milah's, all jagged edges and coldness, hardness, relentlessly putting up walls and spikes to avoid letting any more pain in.

"And she hasn't come back yet?" Emma asks.

"No," David replies, worry tinging his tone. "But since that initial first time the storm hasn't gotten worse. She told me not to follow her."

"Hmm." Emma looks down, biting her lip, and Killian reaches across to squeeze her hand.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, love," he says softly. "Like you said before. If anyone can talk Elsa down, it's Regina."

She gives a reluctant nod.

"Well then," David says. He rises and heads off to join Mary Margaret, leaving the two of them sitting alone.

"So," Emma says.

"So," Killian replies, with a half-smile.

At that moment Emma's phone buzzes. She glances down to check it with a smile.

"It's Henry," she says. "He's going stir-crazy over in Granny's. We probably should have stopped off to pick him up on the way here."

"Have you told him yet?" Killian asks, a little hesitantly.

Emma pauses. "Told him what?" she asks, and Killian freezes.

Suddenly those old insecurities rise back up again - you misread everything and she was just being kind before, resolving things, you're not actually back together – but a second later the confusion in Emma's eyes clears and she laughs.

"Oh, right, about us. I haven't told him yet. I thought it might be better to do it in person."

Killian nods, slumping back in relief, and Emma notices because she leans in against his shoulder, arm moving to wrap around him.

"You're fine with that, right?" she asks. "I mean... it sounds cliché but maybe we could just pick up where we left off."

"We didn't leave off in a very good place," he points out, and she snorts.

"I mean – before. Before all of that. Just try again and try harder this time. You could move back in tonight."

"Is that... are you okay with that?" It all seems very fast to him, but Emma is nodding now.

"I am if you are," she replies, with a small smile – and he smiles back, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her head.

"I am too," he says – and sees it now; they fell apart but they're falling back together again just as easily. Fast it may be, but they've both spent a lifetime taking things slowly and it's time to change that. Change that now that they've both found someone they can trust.

"Good," Emma says, and laces her fingers in his, head coming down to rest against his chest.

They're finally safe – finally home – finally together, no more secrets, no more walls – and for the first time in a long time he's truly, properly happy.

.

Killian encounters Snow in the kitchen when he goes to boil more water for tea. The wind is howling, racketing against the window frames, the bare branches of the trees outside whipping and lashing against the glass panes. But inside the house it is cosy and warm, and the storm cannot get to them here.

They make slightly awkward eye contact as she moves past him to get to the sink, and he gives a small smile. She smiles back, then catches his arm as he starts to turn away.

"Killian."

"Yes?" He turns to her, suddenly a little nervous – not having spent any length of time around her alone.

She smiles, though. "David told me you two fixed things. I'm glad."

"Oh? I wasn't sure you approved, even the first time." The cockiness rises up almost outside of his control, a defence mechanism more than anything else, and he kicks himself instantly. Snow just smiles, however, leaning back against the bench, her arms rising to fold across her chest.

"You're right, I didn't, not at first, but... after seeing what happened between you two... it's pretty obvious that you're good for her." She must see how taken aback he is by her words, and laughs. "And she's good for you," she continues.

"I... appreciate your blessing," he finally manages, and her lips twist into another smile.

"Emma is... difficult," she says slowly. "I know you know this already, but she doesn't trust easily. Even me... sometimes... I mean, we were friends before the curse broke. And it's hard, balancing that against being her mother, after being absent for almost three decades. It's too easy to let her pull away sometimes. But love isn't meant to be easy."

He nods, her gaze still holding his intently.

"I know it might seem strange for me to say that," she adds. "Considering all the times Charming and I lost each other it was due to, well, other people. But you and Emma... I don't know. It's True Love, I can see that, and it means you'll always find each other. Just like David and I do. You just have to trust in that."

"I do," he says softly, and her smile widens.

"Good," she says firmly. "And you know, it's better you got all this out of the way early. Better now than in three years time. If you think about it... two months isn't all that long. Think of it as working out the kinks."

"There are a lot of kinks," he admits. "Some likely still to come."

"Like I said," she says, "You'll always find each other."

The kettle whistles loudly as it finishes boiling, and she reaches past him to the cupboard to help fetch some mugs.

"We should talk further some time," she says, as she places them on the counter next to him and starts for the main room. "And not just about Emma."

"That would be good," he replies, and feels an odd sort of relief, like the final piece in a puzzle has fallen into place and it still almost feels like a dream, but this is it, he really has found a family after all.

.

The storm ends about an hour later.

The snow stops first, replaced by a gentle drizzle of rain that ceases soon afterwards. The winds die down into more of a gentle breeze and while it's still cold when they cautiously venture outside, it's more the brisk chill of a normal winter, that unnatural frigidness to the air gone.

David calls Regina, but she doesn't pick up.

"Should we go out and look for her?" he asks, and Emma shakes her head.

"No. Whatever happened, Elsa must have calmed down or everything would still be frozen. They probably need space now, not the whole bunch of us traipsing through the forest interfering with them."

Killian nods. "I agree."

"In that case," David says, "You should go pick up Henry."

It's not just Emma he's addressing, it's both of them, and the unspoken you need to talk to him is clear.

They head off quickly, taking David's truck. It's not a long drive, and Henry – forewarned by text – is already waiting out the front of the diner. He runs up when he sees them pull over, and Emma is barely out of the truck before he's pulling her into a hug. The lad's getting taller; she barely needs to bend over now as she pulls him closer, arms winding around her tightly. Henry can't help but smile.

"I was really worried," Henry says. He'd been trying to text Emma earlier on, when they were caught out in the storm.

"I know, kiddo. But we're fine," Emma says. They pull apart a little and Henry glances at Killian, who nods.

"We're tough as nails, lad. A little inclement weather isn't nearly enough to take down your mother and I."

Henry smiles a bit, but he's glancing between the two of them now. He's nothing if not perceptive, and he very quickly notes that the lingering awkwardness that's pervaded the last few months is conspicuously absent.

"Something's different," he announces. "You made up, didn't you?"

They glance at each other, then Emma nods.

"Yeah, we did," she says. "We uh... had the chance to talk a few things out. Get some things straight. And clear up a few misunderstandings."

The grin that spreads across Henry's face rivals that of the Cheshire Cat.

"So you're back together?" he cries excitedly, and Killian's barely nodded before the boy is flying into his arms, nearly knocking him back a pace.

"Whoah! Careful, lad," he laughs, though he's glad to hug him back.

"I knew it!" Henry exclaims. "Didn't I tell you both it'd all work out? Didn't I tell you?"

"I guess you did," Emma says, reaching over to ruffle his hair.

"You see?" he adds, and reaches out to pull Emma into the hug with them. "Everything works out in the end. You just need to keep hoping."

For all that he's growing up so fast, it's still such a naïve way to view relationships. The cynical part of Killian rebels against the idea, and he can tell that Emma feels the same way, but for now – for now, with his arms around the two people he loves most in the world, with everything fine for once – it's nice to just believe.

.

Regina and Elsa return to the town a few hours later, quietly, under cover of darkness. Killian does not see them; they go straight to the mansion, but Regina calls them to let them know that they're back, and they're safe, and Elsa is under control, and not to bother them for now.

That night is a good night. He fetches some of his things from Granny's and moves back into Emma's apartment. It's startling how easily they fall back into old habits, old routines. They have a very late supper, biscuits and cocoa – a staple for the Swan family, it seems – and stay up even later with Henry. The boy seems to be revelling in having Killian back around them. It's touching, to say the least, exactly how much his absence seemed to have affect the lad. He hadn't realised – Henry can be as good as his mother at hiding things, when the mood strikes him – but if anything it only reassures him that this is fine, he has a place here, everything fits.

That night they're too exhausted to do much but fall asleep as soon as they get into bed. But when he wakes up, almost embarrassingly late the next morning, it's to weak winter sunlight streaming in through the window, and Emma Swan in his arms, her golden hair fanning out across his chest, face relaxed in sleep – more peaceful than he's ever seen her – and as he runs his fingers softly through her hair that's when he finally believes that this isn't a dream, and they really are okay again.

.

Tinker Bell literally squeals when she runs into him leaving the sheriff station. She's been busy with fairy-related things, hasn't had time to catch up with him, but would have had to be blind to miss the fact that he'd moved out of Granny's.

"You made up! I told you!"

If 'You're true love' was being thrown around a lot before, 'I told you', is being tossed around a hell of a lot now. Part of him is annoyed at how public his private life suddenly is, but the boisterous optimism of most of Storybrooke regarding his relationship is also reassuring, in a way.

"Yes, yes," he says, rolling his eyes, but he smiles when she hugs him.

Jefferson was hanging around nearby too, and he approaches with caution, stepping back a bit when Tink springs away from Killian and nearly smacks into him. He looks at Killian and gives him a half-grin.

"You look a lot better," he informs him. "She's good for you."

"Are you gonna tell me we're doomed to fail a second time?" Killian can't help ribbing him, and Jefferson pulls a face.

"No," he replies. "Jesus, man, you really take stuff to heart. Fine. Cracks are like scars, they don't go away but they do end up healing," he intones in a spooky voice. "There, is that better now? Has the Mad Hatter now blessed your relationship instead of cursing it?"

Killian snorts, but can't help his huff of amusement, and Jefferson breaks into a small smile too.

"Seriously, though, I'm happy for you," Jefferson says, reaching out to jostle his shoulder. "I mean. I know everyone in this town goes on about it, but. Keep having hope or whatever." He speaks the last few words quickly, almost embarrassed. Killian understands how he feels – centuries of cynicism and disillusionment bearing down on him until it feels just plain awkward to do a heel-face-turn towards believing that everything will turn out okay.

And it won't, not always. He knows that – Jefferson does too, intimately and with the scars to prove it – but when it comes to relationships, when it comes to Emma or Grace – those are things you can fix, if you are brave, if you can learn to trust.

And he trusts Emma.

.

Elsa is fine.

They don't see her for a couple of weeks – Regina tells them that she's still recovering, and then, later on, that she's embarrassed – but the town knows enough about what happened for there to be no hard feelings.

When she finally emerges, pale and thin, fingers twisting nervously in the sleeves of her jumper, Regina hovers protectively over her shoulder as they go to sit in Granny's. But there are nothing but smiles from the townsfolk, and soft questions as to whether she's alright now.

Emma and Killian wait until she's settled into her booth before going over. When Elsa looks up and sees them she smiles nervously.

"Hey," Emma says softly, exchanging a glance with Regina. " How are you doing?"

"Better now," Elsa replies. Killian doesn't know how Regina talked her down, he's just glad she did. "I, um... sorry for attacking you guys. I didn't-"

"It's fine," Emma cuts in. "Seriously, don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault. I just wanted to let you know that Belle's been looking into Arendelle, trying to find out what happened there since you were imprisoned. We'll let you know as soon as we find anything."

"Thank you," Elsa replies, with the first hints of a genuine smile.

Emma smiles back, and makes to leave, but Killian pauses. He feels like he should say something about Anna – some words of reassurance, even sympathy – but they don't come fast enough, and Regina gives him an odd look, and he just nods, with a slightly awkward smile.

Emma picks up on it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks that night, carefully – it's only been a few weeks after all.

He hesitates. His immediate instinct is to say "No," to let them stay in this little bubble of bliss a while longer – but that's what got them into trouble in the first place.

"Okay," he says instead, and Emma curls up next to him, tugging the couch throw up over them.

He takes a deep breath, the bitter scent of brine strong on his nostrils, and tells her about Liam.

Not just his death – he was more than that, so much more than just the catalyst that pushed Killian into a life of vengeance and passion and that downward spiral of bad decisions. He tells her about before, all the sibling moments – when they were growing up, their years in the academy, the shaping of his values and all his sense of honour.

He's not looking for pity, but he sees her features soften with it anyway.

"Elsa's different," he says finally. It's late into the night by now, the air chill around them but her arm warm against his under the blanket. "She was the older sister. Sometimes I wonder what Liam would have done, if it was me who'd died instead. If he'd have taken the same path."

"I don't think he'd be ashamed of you," Emma replies. "Not of where you've ended up. And you've always had honour, even..."

Even in your darkest moments. He sighs a bit, and she reaches over, looping her arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss him gently.

"I'm glad you told me," she says softly.

"Me too," he replies. It's a weight off his chest – and this wasn't even a bad secret, except for the bitter sort of disappointment he sometimes feels at his quick turnabout from officer to pirate, and even that never lasts long. He can justify a lot of things to himself, but spending so much time around the Charmings always raises unwanted questions in the back of his mind.

Emma is watching him speculatively, and after a moment she says, "You should tell David all that."

"What?" he straightens up a bit.

She's nodding now. "I really think you should."

"I... don't know about that, love."

"Well, just think about it. Not right away. We have time." And her head nestles against his chest again. "We have time for a lot of things."

Killian doesn't think of the future much, but when he does now it is consumed with her. He realises suddenly that if they mean this to work – and they do – there are years ahead with her. Decades, even. They don't need to rush anything. It doesn't have to be perfect right away – or at all.

And Neverland has skewed his sense of time to all hell, but suddenly he's looking forward to it, to taking it slowly, to the journey. They'll get there.

.

Life goes on.

No new super threats pop up, nothing that threatens everybody. Anything smaller they can deal with, he and Emma and David. They have time to just be a family, to settle into a second honeymoon phase. One that, this time, they are determined to make last.

Days blur into weeks. Things are going smoothly, smoothly, but –

But he has Days, sometimes, Emma does too, when things rise up and start to overwhelm them, whether it be their pasts, or people or incidents in the town, or just the general fears that come with a lifetime of having the things you love ripped away from you.

He has a Day, when he loses his hook – just loses it, doesn't even know how, doesn't realise that he's been wearing the fake hand more and more until one day he needs it for something (there's only so much you can do with stiff, unmovable fingers that can't latch onto things or do much else than slap against things bluntly) and finds that it isn't where he usually keeps it.

He doesn't freak out, he searches calmly and methodically and he's a neat enough person both at home and at the sheriff's station that he finds it eventually (in a drawer, just not the one where he normally keeps it) – but he's at such a loss as to how it could have happened – how something that's so important to him could just be forgotten like that.

He's Killian Jones now, but he was Hook for hundreds of years, and that's not something you erase – that's not something he wants to erase. It was formative, perhaps not in a good way, but it's still something that he isn't ready to let go of.

He goes down to the docks, as usual. And it hits him there, that it's not just the hook, it's the Jolly Roger, things he thought he'd gotten over in finding a new home here, in Storybrooke, but nostalgia can hit at the strangest of times and with force.

Emma finds him there, as she always does. It's a position they've been in hundreds of times before, looking out at the water, hand in hand. This was where she first told him she loved him; this was where he first gave himself up to her, agreed to take her back to Neverland and everything he never wanted to face again –

and this is where they stand now as she squeezes his hand and looks up at him and says, quietly:

"It's okay to miss it. The past is the past but it's still a part of us. I don't just love Killian Jones because he gave up being a pirate. I would love you if you still were a pirate. I was a thief too, you know."

It's like every residual weight has dropped off his shoulders. He doesn't look at her, doesn't need to – her hand in his is enough. And as they gaze out across the water, knowing that here is where they belong, he notices that the snow along the docks is beginning to thaw, that the chill in the air is not quite so brisk and, as they turn to walk back into town, that green is sprouting between the edges and cracks of the footpath. Winter is over and spring is coming in.

a/n: Thank you so so so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, fav'd or alerted this story, and particular thanks to those who reviewed every chapter! I have really appreciated all the love and support throughout and I hope you enjoyed this final chapter as much as I enjoyed writing the fic. Much love to you all ~ :)

If anyone is interested, a mix of the songs used at the start of each chapter as well as what I listened to throughout to set the mood of the fic is available on my tumblr (eight-0f-hearts).

Thanks again and I hope you all liked it! :)