She was gone. One minute she said she loved him, and then she disappeared into the darkness. Or rather, the darkness disappeared into her.
Killian shouted after her, shouted until his lungs gave out and his throat was screaming at him to stop. But when he did, he knew the sobs would set in, and he didn’t know if they would stop.
She was gone. And it took all he had to comprehend that he was never going to see her again. At least, as herself. He was vaguely aware of David’s arms pulling him up from off his knees, helping him back to the apartment.
He was in a trance, a stupor that left him empty, a void in his soul that would never be mended.
“Killian?” He managed to catch, which snapped his subconscious into action. He blinked away tears, biting back emotions for the sake of his lover’s boy. He looked at Henry, and saw the pain In his eyes.
Of the people in the room, Henry had chosen to come to Killian first. Over his grandparents, he chose the man his mother had given her heart to.
He put his arms around the boy, sharing tears of anguish with him. “My mom–she’s gone, isn’t she?” He asked. Killian blinked away the tears, trying to avoid the burningly pitiful stares from David and Mary Margaret.
Thankfully, they leave the two alone, leaving them to sob over the loss of mother and lover.
“Aye, Henry. She’s gone.” Henry embraced him, and Killian bites back his emotions, staring at the dagger sitting accusingly on the kitchen table, burning the name Emma Swan into his eyes, a constant reminder of his loss.
Killian puts Henry into the spare bed in Emma’s loft, curling himself up in Emma’s sheets on her bed next to him. Henry succumbs to the sleep first, and Killian focuses on his constant breathing, relying on them for his on sanity.
She was gone. He blinked, the truth hitting him like a brick, a sinking feeling setting in. At some point Henry walked in, and in the back of his mind Killian registered thankfulness that Henry hadn’t witnessed what he had.
He was next to Killian now, saying something, but the pain was too much – too much to comprehend the words.
She was gone. The dagger on the table was a painful reminder of that, and it haunted him all night, making him unable to sleep. He gets up before the crack of dawn, pain driving him instead of rationality.
He paces down the steps, eyes focused on the dagger. He grabs it and heads out the door, careful not to wake anyone in the house.
He rushes outside, his head spinning with anguish, loss, pain, anger, and he screams her name. “Emma Swan!” He says, holding the dagger.
He didn’t know if she even could come, if wherever she disappeared to prevented her from coming back to Storybrooke – to the people she loved. He knew nothing of the transformation of the Dark One.
He waited, choking back sobs, but letting the memory of her drive his actions. Letting the pain drive him. “Dark One, I summon thee.” He says, channeling all the emotion into his words. He waits. Nothing.
Suddenly feeling very small, he drops the dagger and falls to his knees, hyperventilating. The pain was too much–he wish he could shut it off.
But he knew he couldn’t, and until he found Emma, he was going to have to learn to live with it. It was a part of him, as pain has always been, and it would drive him to find her. He wouldn’t rest until he did.
“Killian?” Henry was out of bed, possibly he had heard Killian leave, and he was behind him. “Are you ok?” He asks, going around and looking him in the eyes. Killian stands up, blinking tears away, and puts a hand on Henry’s shoulder.
“Just needed some fresh air, lad. Let’s go back to bed.” He says, nodding back towards the apartment building. He runs his fingers through his hair and exhales, putting his emotions on hold for Henry.
Henry grabs the dagger off the ground and tests it’s weight in his hands. “You tried to summon her, didn’t you?” He asks, his voice small. Killian turns around, licking his lips and contemplating what to say.
“Yeah, Henry. I did.” He replied.
Henry hesitated, stealing a glance at his mother’s name on the very thing she had tied to evil, he let a tear escape. “It didn’t work?” He asks.
“No.” Henry hands Killian the dagger and embraces him. Killian is caught off guard, and gives Henry a confused glance before putting his arms around him.
“I know you probably would never want to be my father, but you’re the closest thing I’ve got to one, Killian.” He says, his voice muffled by the leather of Killian’s jacket.
He smiled. A part of him felt deeply for the boy, and always thought of him as a son, though he’d never force that upon him.
Now, Henry, standing with him out in the cold, Confesses he thinks of him as fondly as he cares for the boy. Maybe Henry was all he’d ever have left of Emma, and he could live with that.
He didn’t reply to that, but he rested his chin on Henry’s head, embracing him tighter.
“Let’s get back inside, lad. It’s cold out here and I’m sure your grandparents will start to worry if they wake.” Henry nods, elbowing him in the ribs before pulling away. Killian grunts, smiling.
“I think I know how we can find my mom,” Henry says abruptly before opening the door to the building. Killian gives him a sideways glance.
Henry shrugs. “We need to find Merlin.”
Hope you guys enjoyed! If you liked it, reply to the post and tell me how you felt! I love to hear your opinions, and it helps me with ideas and keep the plot flowing. Also, if you want to be tagged, reply to the post and lmk xx
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