For Killian's very, very long life there were only a handful of people who he had cared for. And every single one of them had been taken from him.

His mother had died before he had a memory of her, her life fading quickly to bring forth his. Liam had told him about her gentle hands and her soft voice, her love, so much love, but he didn't have a feeling of his own to put to her, a smell or a sound or a touch that he could associate with her. Only his brother's strength and his father's lack of it to remind him of the first person he'd lost.

His father... Good riddance, truly, but he had never been able to understand how a man could abandon his children. He hadn't been taken from him no, he'd left, and although Liam had assured him that it was a good thing, that they were better off without him and they'd just take care of each other like they'd always done, Killian could help but feel the absence. Liam was enough, was more than enough, but sometimes he wasn't, not quite, and sometimes he would truly feel like an orphan. Little orphan Jones who'd killed his mother and who's father didn't want him.

Liam's death had been different. He'd been so terrified to lose the one person who had stood by him, had supported his rise through the ranks of the Navy until he could become his second, that he would have given anything to save him. But he hadn't known how Pan's deals worked then, hadn't even known who Pan was, and of course the price had been too great. If they'd known how the water worked then he'd have made Liam drink it anyway, and the two of them could have lived on Neverland together, anything but be separated from his brother.

He'd blamed the king who had deceived them, he'd blamed Pan for his trickery, he'd even blamed Liam - the man had been too bloody stubborn, had had to prove the point. It had always been like that between them. More than anything he blamed himself, for being unable to act, for giving him the doubt that he had to disprove, for forgetting that a price had to be paid as soon as he'd felt the relief of his brother's health returning to him.

Liam's death had started the descent of his soul into darkness, but when Milah had been killed it went spiralling down into a blackness that he'd been unable to escape for several lifetimes of a normal man. Killian had been with many a woman before he'd met Milah, but she was the first woman that he'd loved. The look on her face when her heart was destroyed had broken him, had changed the course of his life. He'd tried to protect her, to convince the crocodile that she was gone, but of course she couldn't back down from her husband. The fire in her heart and her thirst for adventure had been had he'd first loved about her, but it had been that ferocity that had caused Rumpelstiltskin to snap, to tear her heart from her chest and destroy his along with it.

He'd spent hundreds of years seeking vengeance for her death, and now that Rumpelstiltskin was dead it didn't quite feel like he needed it anymore.

Before today, the last person who had left him before he steeled his heart for far too long a time was Baelfire, the son of the man who he'd dedicated his years to hunt, the son of the woman who he had loved so strongly for just as long. Once he'd found out his past with the lad's mother, Killian's pleas for a chance to live the life she would have wanted for them had fallen on deaf ears. Baelfire had left him as well, unknowing of what lay before him but hoping it was better than a life with the pirate who had killed his mother, who had made his father leave him.

He knew that Baelfire would have left anyway, but the regret of what he'd sold him into had tore too strongly at Killian's already broken heart, so he'd closed it off with a wall so high he'd never expected anyone to break through, pouring his everything into seeking a way to kill the Dark One and end his pain.

One person had broken through, finally. Emma Swan, the saviour, his saviour. Somehow, without her even knowing it, she'd pulled at the dark and broken parts of him until they slowly started to come back together, piece by shattered piece. She was just as broken as he was and just as good as hiding it, but they'd seen through each other's disguises, had broken down each other's walls, and he'd never been more sure of anything than he was of how deep for her his love ran.

And once again, of course, he'd lost her.

Looking slowly around the field that they'd landed in when they'd appeared in the Enchanted Forest, Killian felt his heart break all over again at the sight of the people falling apart around him. David and Mary Margaret, who had lost their daughter. Regina, who had lost her son. Neal, who had lost his father, and Belle, her lover. Everyone who had lost their home.

Everyone seemed so lost.

And he felt it just as strongly as any other. Not just because he'd lost Emma - which hurt, oh it hurt so bad he couldn't breathe - but because he cared, not only about his own pain but about the pain of all of these other people. He'd not cared for anyone but his crew for such a long time that he didn't know how to feel about being concerned about the pain of these people that had mostly been strangers just a few weeks ago.

A few weeks, for his whole world to turn around.

Was it the same for Emma? As much as he'd shown his confidence that she would come to him eventually, he'd felt it keenly to know that she'd never admitted to returning his affections. But finally, when it had been too late for lengthy confessions and goodbyes, they'd had a quick moment that was just so truly them.

Not a day will go by that I'll not think of you.

That soft upward turning of the lips, the barest smile. Good.

Just a word, but it was more than that, to him, to both of them. A declaration, an expectation, a challenge.

He'd told her, once, how much he loved a challenge.

He knew he'd never forget her while he still drew breath, but maybe he didn't have to.

Maybe he didn't have to lose her, too.

All of the beans were gone, there was no longer a way between worlds, but that hadn't stopped Emma and Mary Margaret, or himself and Cora from getting to Storybrooke. It hadn't stopped them or Neal from getting to Neverland, and it hadn't stopped them from returning. There hadn't been a way before, but they'd found one anyway.

He could find one.

Emma and her family had given him something he'd long lived without - hope. And he'd be damned if he was going to let them forget it.

It would take time, he thought, looking around at the people surrounding him. There would be a price, he knew, but he would pay it gladly. He'd lost everyone he'd ever cared about, and although Neal was in his life again, it was not the family that he'd hoped for all that time ago. He'd missed his chance, just like with everybody else.

But not this time. He may have lost Emma, but he would get her back.

He would find her, and he would get her back.