HEY EVERYONE! So it's been awhile. Understatement of the year. But since this was the last chapter, I forced my way out of writer's block to get this to you all. I hope you like it! I'm so glad you all liked this story and this version of the classic tale. I had alot of fun writing it. I hope this final chapter lives up to your expectations and that it is a satisfying ending. Thank you everyone who left me reviews, asking for me to continue it and finish it. Without those, I would probably have never willed myself to do it! Thank you all reading :) Hopefully I will get Heartbeat Slowing Down running again and I've been writing a new story again that will be a oneshot! Look for it, love you all!

-Amy

CHAPTER SEVEN

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Pain.

That's all she could feel. Sharp, tearing pain. And then she was falling. Unable to fly any longer, the searing in her shoulder caused her wings to falter; she had no other choice. Heat was erupting across her chest and her lungs became heavy. It had come out of nowhere. She had no idea why there was suddenly a hole in her chest, only that there was. And as the ground got closer and closer, one random memory began to play over and over in her mind.

Three Months Ago

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Emma quietly snuck her way into the pantry in the galley. The crew had just returned from shore and now were busy on deck getting ready to set sail. It was the perfect time to be free below deck and she was curious if there was any new food for her to try. Angry that Hook hadn't allowed her to leave the ship and venture through whatever port village he decided to stop in, she had spent most of the day locked in his cabin, refusing to even come out for lunch. He had let her off the two times the ship had docked before, as long as she had promised to keep hidden under a hood and stay by his side, which was generous for any kidnapper, especially a pirate. So why had she been so… hurt (though she hated to admit that) when he refused her whims this time? Sneaking glances at the shore through his cabin window, she had seen that it was a bigger village than the previous ones, one that most likely had guards stationed in it, and her situation had crashed back down on her. Emma knew Hook made her stay on board so he wouldn't get caught with her, the princess. She was being held hostage (something she needed to keep reminding herself) she shouldn't be wishing that she were off gallivanting with pirates. But she was still hungry.

Looking over the shelves, she noticed the fresh stocks of food, nothing really standing out to her, until she noticed two boxes of sweet, honey rolls. Her mouth immediately started watering. The rolls were common and simple, usually sold at a stand in any village, but never served at the castle. Whenever she used to sneak out, she would always grab a couple to take back home, knowing her father was secretly a fan. Recently, she found a small shop that made them at the last port while walking around with Hook, and much to his chagrin, had practically devoured at least three right there in front of him. Emma eagerly reached for the rolls.

"Those belong to you."

Emma jumped back and almost let out a squeak at the accented voice, putting a hand on her chest, hoping to calm her now racing heart. She whipped around and saw Hook leaning against the doorway, an amused smirk on his face at having frightened her. "The crew's already been warned not to touch them," he continued, pointing down at the boxes she had just been looking at, his smirk turning into a small smile. A smile Emma never dreamed she would see on his face, one that was almost shy.

She couldn't help but be touched and was suddenly overwhelmed by such a small gesture that she couldn't find any words. At her silence, Hook stood up straight, his brows furrowing in confusion, "Are those not the right ones, love? I-"

"No, they're my favorite," Emma insisted, shaking her head. Though she would never tell him this, it was the first time someone had given her something without her saying so. That someone had noticed. And over something so little and trivial. It wasn't the first time since she had been kidnapped that Hook had surprised her and she was beginning to feel scared. Scared about something she didn't want to name and acknowledge. Emma kept her eyes locked on the boxes, not daring to look at him as she quietly stated, "I'm just surprised you knew."

"Well, they're usually the first thing you look for whenever we make port," Hook said, letting out a small chuckle as his hand reached up and scratched behind his ear, "It wasn't that hard to deduce."

Finally looking up at him, Emma swallowed, hoping her voice didn't really sound as nervous as she thought it did, "Thank you."

Hook waved a hand at her, brushing off her thanks, looking a little embarrassed himself. Confusing, but somewhat consoling, knowing that she wasn't the only one feeling a little lost. "It's the least I can do to keep the royal hostage pleased," Hook quipped, an eyebrow raised teasingly.

She opened her mouth to retort a comment back at him, start another round of banter that was familiar, but the scene started to fade and turn into treetops and twinkling stars. The sound of someone calling her name ringing fuzzily in her ears…

Present

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Someone was calling for her. The pain in her chest was still crippling, stinging sharply when she tried moving, or breathing. She could feel cold ground beneath her and she weakly opened her eyes, realizing that the stars she had begun to see were the ones right in front of her. Where was she? What had happened? She was suppose to be finding the castle… finding…

"Emma!"

Killian. He was here. She knew he would figure out something was wrong. She could hear him somewhere to her right as he kept shouting, trees and bushes rustling in his wake as he moved closer. Emma made a noise, expecting to be forced to squawk, and was surprised when it came out as a moan. She looked down and saw two legs, a ratty white dress… she was human. Dread and understanding filled her stomach. The wound in her chest was fatal and she had no idea how long she had been lying in the dirt, bleeding out.

Coughing roughly, Emma finally found her voice. "Killian," she called, as loud as she could, her breath still coming out wheezy. After a few seconds, his footsteps got louder and she finally spotted him rushing toward her, her heart still doing a little somersault in her chest despite its weakening. "I don't know what happened," she mumbled to Killian as he dropped to his knees beside her, gently raising her up so that her head was resting on his thigh instead of the rocky ground.

"This is my fault," Killian replied dejectedly, his voice low and shaky as he inspected her wound, "I did this."

She stared up at him, the worry and devastation etched on his face making her heart break. "No," Emma sighed weakly, trying to reach out her hand toward him.

Killian shook his head roughly, his blue eyes filled with loathing and regret. "I knew it wasn't you, love," he told her sadly, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing over the bruise that was there from Rothbart's slap. Emma couldn't help but give him a small smile, warmth spreading through her at his words. Killian had always been able to see the real her and it was something she would always be grateful for, something he probably didn't even know she cherished and she now wished she would've shared that with him. "So I stabbed Regina and…" Killian gravelly went on, choking on his words. Instead of continuing, he suddenly reached down and ripped off a portion of her dress, placing the fabric over the hole in her chest to try to stop the bleeding. "I'm so sorry," he choked out harshly, his voice wavering.

"It's okay," Emma whispered, her hand finally reaching his arm, hoping to be reassuring. At least Regina's part of the plan was stopped and once she was gone, Rothbart's would be too. No one would get her heart and everyone would be safe. That's all she wanted. "I'm glad you stopped her."

"I shouldn't have been so rash," Killian miserably rambled, stubbornly refusing to believe that this was anything but his fault, "I should've realized something was wrong earlier."

"Stop," Emma pressed, trying to find the words to tell him what she had already figured out.

"You're right, you're going to be fine," Killian concluded resolutely, with a distant, crazed look in his eyes that told her he would do anything but try to listen to her at the moment. "I'm sure your guards are not too far behind me," he gave her an unconvincing, shaky smile, "they can help take you back and once the curse breaks –"

Emma bit her lip, trying to stop tears from forming in her eyes. "I'm not-"

He shook his head and frantically tore off more of her dress, putting more pressure against her still bleeding wound. She wondered if he knew his hand was trembling. "No, I can stop the bleeding-"

"Killian," she coughed roughly, finally getting his attention, "there's no moon tonight." Emma gazed straight in his blue eyes, willing him to read what was in hers, like he always could, "I'm suppose to be a swan right now."

Killian started shaking his head harder at her before she even finished the sentence, reading where her thinking was going. Denial etched his every feature as he tried to correct her. "That, that doesn't mean anything."

He kept talking quickly, desperately trying to come up with plausible explanations for her current state, but her eyelids were becoming heavy and the darkness was being so appealing. "Killian…" she whispered, trying to stay awake for him, but everything faded.

Sometime during his speech on the unpredictably of magic and why changing back from a swan could mean anything but that, Emma's eyes had closed. "No," Killian pleaded, brushing back her hair from her face. Panic started coursing through him and the fact that he could still see her breathing was the only thing keeping him somewhat controlled, "Emma, please." Her brows furrowed somewhat, like she was listening, but she still remained unconscious.

As he watched her shallow breaths come and go, he snapped. Rage and determination flooded dangerously through him and he leapt to his feet, ready to end this. "Where are you?" Killian bellowed madly, his voice echoing through the trees. He knew he was here, could feel some distant, cold presence watching them, probably getting some sick satisfaction over watching Emma suffer. He was going to kill the bloody bastard. "I know you're here somewhere!"

When there was no reply, he continued on furiously, his patience and control running thin. Emma was running out of time, something he didn't want to think about. "I'm making that vow," he challenged heatedly, his eyes darting over the forest, looking for any sign of movement, "now tell me what I have to do to prove it."

"There's no need to shout," a taunting voice whispered. Killian whipped around and saw the towering, ugly, hook-nosed bastard appear before him in a cloud of black smoke.

Killian's jaw clenched as he glared down the man with absolute loathing. "You."

"Rothbart," the man said conversationally, giving him a sarcastic, little bow, making introductions like Emma was lying right there dying, "and you are?"

Killian didn't answer. This was the man that had tortured Emma for months, the one that forced her to turn into a bloody swan, he wasn't about to make any small talk. "You have magic," he snarled and pointed demandingly down at Emma, "Heal her."

Rothbart glanced down at Emma, no sign of sympathy or regret in his black eyes. Just something almost like glee. It had Killian painfully grinding his teeth together. "I don't think it quite works like that," he replied with mocking grin.

Seeing red, Killian stormed toward him, his blood boiling. "I love her, is that what you want to hear?"

"I believe proving it is part of the curse too," Rothbart replied, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"I'll bloody well prove it," Killian growled dementedly as he whipped out his cutlass and charged determinately toward Rothbart.

"By killing me?" Rothbart sneered, moving away just in time so that he missed Killian's sword. A cloud of black smoke enveloped him and he suddenly appeared on the other side of the clearing, a cloud of magic starting to glow around him. "I'd like to see you try," he hissed maniacally, his eyes turning a dull yellow before his bones started to grotesquely morph. Within seconds, the man had transformed into a unseemly, large, black grisly beast. Distorted, edgy dark wings shot out from its back; the monster bared its dripping, yellow teeth and flapped into the sky, never takings its murderous eyes off Killian.

"Bloody buggering fuck," Killian cursed, lunging right to avoid one of the beast's sharp claws as it shot toward him, ready to attack.

With his sword gripped tightly in his hand, Killian jumped and swung bravely every time the monster circled back and flew back toward him with alarming speed, hoping that he would hit something vital or he would finally come up with some plan where he could get the upper hand. Trying to gain the higher ground, Killian ran toward the nearest tree, but he was suddenly knocked sideways by a wing. Landing harshly on his back, his sword flew out of his hand and landed somewhere in the brush behind him.

Rothbart's yellow, murderous eyes focused down at him as he hovered in the sky. Killian grit his teeth and tried to get off the ground, the smugness radiating from the monster fueling his determination. As the beast soared straight for him, baring its threatening teeth, Rothbart's voice echoed egotistically through the air, causing Killian's blood to spike in hatred. "You can't save her, pirate."

An arrow suddenly came out of nowhere and clipped the beast's wing, causing it snarl angrily and focus its attention away from Killian.

Emma stepped up from behind him, acidly spitting, "That's cause the only one who saves me, is me."

Killian couldn't believe his eyes. "Emma?" he gaped, relief rushing through his entire being at seeing her up. Emma stood before him, breathing heavily with a bow gripped tightly in her hand, a hand he could see was shaking slightly. Graham's bow. Killian remembered watching the guard set it down and never pick it back up when he had been looking for Emma before the ball. Blood was still running down her dress from her chest and she looked weak, but at least she up.

Reaching down to pick up another arrow, she cocked her head to the left and managed to mutter out, "Tree." He got her meaning immediately. They always did make a great team. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he ran over and started to climb. This was not the time for grand revelations of the heart. He had a beast to subdue for princess. As he climbed, he heard arrows whizzing through the air as Emma distracted Rothbart long enough for him to get high enough. Once at the top, he looked down and saw Emma on her last arrow.

Well, it was now or never. Jumping off the branch, Killian landed on the beast's shoulders, promptly sticking his hook as deep as he could in its neck. Roaring, the beast shot out both its wings, sticking its chest out in attempt to somehow shake him off. "Now!" Killian yelled down to Emma, clutching on the transformed Rothbarth's neck with all his strength, hoping to the gods that this worked.

Emma steadily aimed the bow at Rothbart's exposed chest. "Rot in hell," she spat, finally releasing the arrow. It spiraled toward the monster and struck it straight in the heart.

The beast let out a loud, piercing wail, arching its back roughly and throwing Killian off. He landed on the ground with a thud, pain shooting through his nerves and muscles. Looking up, Killian watched giant monster spiral menacingly toward the ground, finally exploding into fiery ashes before his eyes. After a few moments, the dust finally settled. Breathing heavily, he waited in silence for a few seconds before he finally let himself believe it was over.

"He's dead," Killian stated to Emma with relief and satisfaction, letting out a somewhat crazed laugh as he crawled over to where she was laying. He beamed down at her, remembering her fierce determination, "That was bloody brilliant." His smile suddenly faltered and dropped when he looked down and saw her eyes closed, looking eerily still. No. She was fine. She was just tired, just resting her eyes. And whatever spell Rothbart had on her was just taking its sweet bloody time leaving her. Almost afraid to touch her, his heart not wanting to understand what his head was trying to tell him, he gingerly grasped her shoulder and tried to shake her awake. Nothing happened. No. He shook harder. Nothing.

"No, we did it," Killian told her, confusion still seeping into his voice as he tried to deny what was right in front of him. "He's dead," he repeated, hoping the statement would somehow make her open her eyes, let whatever magic that was at play know that it was time to wake her up. Now. Any second. This wasn't how this was suppose to work. Once the beast was dead, everyone was suppose to be happy, to be okay. Good always was suppose to come out alive. And Emma was everything good. "The curse is suppose to be broken," Killian said, his voice slowly turning into some broken whimper, unwanted comprehension filling him. No. After everything, he was still too late, still couldn't save her, even with her own bloody help.

He stared at her chest, willing it to somehow start rising and falling with life, but it remained still. No. This was their second chance, his second chance with her. This was suppose to be their happy ending. "I should've told you everything," Killian lamented hoarsely, his whole body shaking, still trying to wrap his mind around that he had been too late, not enough, "I should have made that bloody vow the second I found out you were alive."

Regret seized and crumbled his heart. Or whatever was left of the pieces that she had put back together. Her paleness made him sick, reminding him so much of Liam's pallor when he had collapsed in his arms, of Milah's when he had wrapped her up to be put at rest at sea… Those were images that never left him. And now Emma's wouldn't either. No. Emma was never suppose to be another loved one who haunted him, one who he mourned with such agony that overwhelming and stifling darkness consumed him. She was suppose to be here. But she wasn't, and it was his own bloody fault. That much he was sure of. It was always his fault. "I'm so sorry I failed you," he choked, trying to hold back a sob as tears traitorously started to fall from his eyes. There was one last thing he had to do. One thing he couldn't live, breathe, without knowing he had done at least once. Leaning down, he placed his lips a hairbreadth's length away from hers.

"I love you," Killian finally whispered as he closed his eyes, the statement ringing truer than anything he had ever known, "more than you'll ever know."

And then he kissed her.

A shot of power and light radiated from where their lips met and beamed through the forest. With a gasp, Killian pulled back and saw white glowing from Emma's chest, healing her wound, before it finally slowly subsided. He held his breath as he stared down at her, blood pounding in his ears.

Emma's eyes slowly started to flutter open, the beautiful green finally starting to reveal itself to him. "Please tell me this means the giant ugly bird is dead," she muttered, reaching up to rub at her forehead.

His heart burst wide open and he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. She was alive. They had done it. His kiss had done it. And he didn't want to ignore the implications of that. "It means a lot more than that, love," Killian murmured, tangling his hand in her golden tresses. He barely caught her responding grin before he was pressing his lips to hers once more, kissing her hotly and with all the passion he had been holding back from her since she had captured his heart in that deserted alleyway.

He didn't know how much time had passed before voices made their way to his ears. Specifically, one looming, unwanted voice that was making its way closer. Inwardly groaning, Killian reluctantly pulled away from her lips. "I believe that pleasant voice belongs to your father," he grumbled, raising his face and closing his eyes in irritation.

Emma laughed, "I sent Graham to lead them here." Pausing, her fingers were still running through his hair as she glanced demurely up at him, "If you don't want to deal with all this, now's your last chance to get away."

He knew what she was trying to say. That this wasn't over, not really. There was still the aftermath of the whole ordeal to deal with, still royal duties that she had to attend to, and possibly still Regina to manage, and that if the stress and drama of being with a princess were things he wasn't willing to bear, she would give him an out. But he would take it. Would take any little moment he got with her. That was the only way to live when he couldn't live without her. "I'm with you, love," he told her earnestly, his hand coming up to twist a finger in her hair.

Emma stared affectionately up at him, a small smile gracing her face as she simply said, "Good."

They stood together and were turning toward the group that rushing to them when he felt Emma lace their fingers together. "And Killian," she said, catching his attention, her next words catching his heart, "I love you, too."

THE END