Chapter Text
Of course.
Of bloody course.
Fate would not give Emma Swan a bloody break. Every time she came close to attaining secure, lasting happiness, some danger rose up to threaten her. Even on her wedding day.
Emma had dedicated herself to giving others their happy endings. She, of all people, deserved one of her own. And what better way to end a story than with a wedding?
But Killian had known, and acknowledged when he proposed the second time, that Emma's future was uncertain. He had just hoped that the conflicts and crises would cease long enough for them to make their vows and celebrate their union with their friends. And when they resumed, he wanted to be by her side.
He was not surprised to learn that Gold had deceived them about the Black Fairy's defeat. But he was baffled and dismayed by Emma's insistence that she had to fight this "Final Battle" alone, without his or anyone else's aid. Worse still, he could tell that she was not completely confident about her chances of victory.
The idea of a bride dying on her wedding day was too macabre, like a ghost story told by superstitious sailors. Killian would not let that be how Emma's story ended.
If she insisted on facing her nemesis alone, then he would confront his old nemesis, the crocodile. On his ship, he had a blowgun fashioned after the style of Tiger Lily's, and a supply of dreamshade. It would not kill the Dark One while he was in Storybrooke, but it could knock him out, preventing him from helping his mother in the fight against Emma.
As it turned out, stunning Rumplestiltskin was the easy part. But then the Black Fairy appeared, and Killian found himself paralyzed by magic. It was not the first time that happened to him; but the last time, at Pan's hands, the entire town had been in danger. This time, Emma was the only target, and the Black Fairy was determined to isolate her from anyone who cared about her and neutralize anyone who might help her.
Killian did not know how long he was frozen in the pawnshop; but suddenly smoke swirled around him, the way it did during teleportation. When the smoke cleared, he was no longer in the pawnshop, but in the mayor's office. In front of him were Snow, David, Regina, and Zelena—all frozen like him—and in front of them was a gloating Black Fairy and a horrified Emma.
It was worse than Killian had feared—and exactly what Emma had feared: the Black Fairy was going to use everyone she loved against her.
"I'll kill you," Emma seethed.
"Are you?" The Black Fairy's voice was a sickening drawl. "Because I've been watching you, Emma. Or should I say, listening to you."
Something appeared in her hand—a ball? an orb?—and there was a sound like a child humming. Killian did not recognize the voice or the tune. Was that voice Emma's, when she was young? What did it mean?
"Do you know what I hear?" The Black Fairy answered her own question: "A little girl who's all alone in this world. A girl who's weak, without hope. I used to go to sleep to sounds of misery like that every night in the mines."
Killian wanted to scream. You're not alone, Emma. I'm here. We're all here. You're not that lost little girl anymore!
Whatever that song was, hearing it shook Emma almost as much as seeing her loved ones in danger. When she tried to strike, her magic did not respond. And instead of trying again, she turned on her heel and ran out the door.
Now Killian was thoroughly confused. Emma had a history of running for various reasons, but it was not like her to run from an immanent fight. What was it about that strange little song that had upset her?
He had pegged her for an orphan from the day they met, but she had done so much since then. She had embraced the truth of who she was and let her parents, her son, and Killian into her heart. He had thought that she had gotten over those old feelings of loneliness and abandonment.
erhaps he should have known better. "Wounds that are made when we're young tend to linger."
But that song … the fact that she had sung at all … that said something about her.
In Neverland, Hook had heard many orphaned and kidnapped children cry for their parents, but they never sang. The only music had come from Pan's pipes and whatever crude instruments the Lost Boys put together. The only singing had been their whoops and hollers around the campfire. No one sang on their own, to express themselves, or lift their spirits, or tell a story, or simply make something beautiful.
But at some point, Emma had.
The Black Fairy did not seem to be in a hurry about anything. She simply strolled around the office, stopping occasionally to smile at her captives, gaze out the windows, or sit by the fire. The clock tower announced each quarter-hour, counting down the time until her curse would be unleashed—the same time Killian and Emma were supposed to marry. It was beginning to look like neither of them would make it to their own wedding.
At last, Emma returned and confronted the Black Fairy again. But instead of challenging her enemy, Emma told her, "You can have what you came here for. My heart."
She was surrendering?
Was it a bluff, or a trick? Perhaps it would not work. Cora had not been able to remove Emma's heart. But that was when Emma was fighting. Now, she was offering to willingly hand over her heart.
She walked up to Killian, but he could barely even move his eyes to look at her. All he could do was focus on her when she was in his line of vision. Her expression was bleak, her eyes glossy with tears.
She was serious. She was giving up.
She patted his shoulders, framed his face in her hands. "Killian . . . I'm sorry. This is the only way."
No. No, no, NO!
How dare she give up hope? How dare she try to sacrifice herself, after all the times she had stopped him from doing so? How could she make him, and her parents, watch helplessly as she died? It was his job to protect her heart; how could she surrender it in front of him?
She kissed him, but it was completely wrong. If they ever had a last kiss, it should not be like this, with him completely motionless, and her trying to contain her emotions in front of her enemy. He was supposed to stay by her side and support her, not stand immobile on the sidelines while she surrendered and died.
She looked at him one last time, green eyes memorizing blue; then she turned her back to him as she faced the Black Fairy.
Everything within Killian's being cried out in protest. Their story could not end like this!
He had already watched Milah die, and in exactly the same way, a creature of darkness crushing her heart. How could he go through that again, with a love so much deeper, a future so full of promise?
He could not bear to watch—but he had to. He could only see the two women in his peripheral vision. He both pitied and envied David and Snow for being closer and having a full view of what was happening.
He heard the familiar, sickening sound, and Emma's gasp and panting breaths; he saw her fall to her knees, and her glowing heart in the Black Fairy's hand; but after that, nothing happened. The Black Fairy's smile melted into a look of confusion, and then frustration.
"Why won't you die?" the Black Fairy snarled. Then she dropped Emma's heart, as though it were a piece of heated metal, and it fell to the floor.
The answer came from Henry as he entered the room. "Because her heart is stronger than you think!"
Killian had no idea what was going on, but he knew one thing: he had never been so happy to see that boy!
Henry knelt next to Emma and showed her something. He spoke about a song, and then played a recording of the same tune from earlier.
"It's not your weakness," Henry stated. "It's your strength."
That sounded like what Emma had said to Cora at Lake Nostos. But they had been talking about love. Was the song connected to that, somehow?
The music seemed to grow louder, or closer. Emma began to hum the tune herself—and then, she began to sing.
Killian had never heard Emma sing before. She was not the type to express her emotions so freely and openly. Her voice started out quiet and shaky, but then grew stronger, louder.
She sang of the loneliness she had felt as a child, but also of a song inside her, a song that had inspired her parents to be brave.
The Black Fairy tried to blast Emma and Henry with magic, but it glanced off them as though it had hit a shield, and she recoiled in surprise. Emma rose to her feet as her voice rose in volume and power, full of conviction.
It was astounding. Was she making this song up on the spot? Or was she remembering it from somewhere? The words were too personal and relevant to have been a long-ago composition, and the rhyming lyrics seemed too sophisticated to be spontaneous. It must have been some kind of magic.
Sure enough, Emma threw her arm out and weakened the spell on the five hostages. Henry called out the encouragement that Killian and the others could not voice.
Emma clasped her parents' hands, looking at them with deep, open love. "All the years of running—no, not anymore. I know what I'm living for."
Killian wanted to cheer. That's right, Swan!
She approached him next, and looked directly at him as she sang, "I'm no longer searching."
Neither was he. They had spent so much time searching for the wrong things, or searching for the right things in the wrong places. He had searched for treasure and vengeance. She had become a bail bondsperson while hoping to find her parents and home.
They had not been searching for each other, but, nevertheless, they had found each other. And whenever they were separated, they managed to find each other again.
Emma held on to his hand even as she turned to face the Black Fairy again, her voice rising in a crescendo as she reached the song's climax. At that moment, the freezing spell broke, and Killian and others were able to move again.
This was where he belonged: at Emma's side, holding her hand and watching her back while she saved herself and her loved ones.
She squeezed his hand before releasing it and striding back to Henry, who had scooped up her heart. "Looks like I'm not alone anymore," she said defiantly, glaring at the Black Fairy. Henry handed her heart to her, and she put it back in her chest where it belonged.
Killian was ready to leap into a fight, but the Black Fairy just let out a final threat, and then vanished in a swirl of black smoke.
The next few minutes were full of hugs, confusion, and rejoicing. Snow and David reached Emma first to embrace her. She was laughing and crying at the same time, practically beaming at them through her tears. "You were with me! You were with me my whole life!"
For the first time in hours, Killian smiled. He was so proud, relieved, and happy, he hardly knew what to say. "Swan …"
She ran to him, breathing his name. "Killian!"
Then she was in his arms, safe and smiling and full of life.
"I don't know what that was," he said over her shoulder, "but it was bloody brilliant."
"I had no idea you could sing," Zelena said, half joking.
"I never really tried," Emma admitted.
Regina hugged Henry and took him by the shoulders, looking between hm and Emma. "How did you know what to do?"
Henry showed them the page he had discovered in the storybook. "You guys don't remember this, but before Mom was born, Grandma made a wish on a star. She wanted something to help Emma, to give her a chance for a happy ending. The Blue Fairy granted that wish by giving everyone a song. You each had to discover your song, but then she made you forget them so they would be secret. She put those songs inside Emma's heart, so the people she loves would always be with her."
David and Snow looked at each other in wonder. Regina made a face. "Does this mean you—or any of us—can break into song at any time?"
Henry's response was to smile and say, "Maybe."
Killian cleared his throat and spoke up casually. "Am I right to assume this means our wedding is on?"
"Of course it is," Emma replied, squeezing his hand and arm.
"Really? Even with her curse coming?" Snow questioned.
Emma nodded, and looked to Killian as she explained, "If the Final Battle is going to be as bad as she says, I want to at least have this moment."
"If the curse is going to hit at six o'clock," David mused, "maybe we should move the wedding up, to give us more time."
"B-but are we ready?" Snow spluttered. "She ruined Emma's dress, and all the guests think it's at six—"
"We can send a text and email blast," Henry suggested, "letting people know to come early, and warning them about the curse."
"Word travels fast in a small town," Regina said in agreement.
Killian smiled at Henry and clapped him on the back. "I knew you were the right pick for best man. Coming here when you did—you may have just saved the wedding."
Henry tucked the storybook under his arm, smiling proudly. "All in a day's work."
"Well, the day isn't over yet," Snow said briskly, taking Emma's arm. "Let's get ready."
* * * * *
This was it.
There had been so many times when it seemed like their story was over. But everything they had been through, individually and together, had led to this moment: Emma Swan, dressed up like a princess, with her mother and father on either side, walking between rows and rows of friends, to where Killian waited for her.
David and Snow were beaming with pride and love. Killian had wondered whether it would be difficult for them to let go of Emma after so many years apart, and only a few years after finding her. But because they had missed so many other moments in her life, they were simply happy to be part of this one.
In their vows, the bride and groom spoke of their pasts, and how much they had changed since meeting each other.
For years, Emma had thought she would never love or trust anyone enough to marry them. But somehow, the most untrustworthy person in all the realms had won over the most mistrustful person in all the realms. They had grown, and learned, and made each other better. They had helped each other discover who they truly were and become who they were meant to be.
Killian was a little sorry for the fact that the hand he had lost was the left one, where a wedding ring would traditionally be worn. But other married couples did not have the satisfaction of feeling their wedding rings clink against each other when they held hands.
At Archie's prompting, Emma and Killian promised to love each other, not until death—they knew now that death was not final—but for all eternity.
Loving the Savior was not an easy task, but it was one Killian was wholeheartedly determined, and felt utterly privileged, to carry out.
Before they knew it, the ceremony was over.
They had done it. They had bound their lives together, like two ropes joined into one.
"You did it, Swan," Killian congratulated, smiling as he dipped her on the dance floor. "You got your happy ending."
"That's not what this is," Emma countered, smiling back as they straightened up. "It's something else. A happy beginning."
She finally had faith that they would have time for everything they hoped to do.
He could see that she was right. For centuries, all that had mattered to Hook was getting revenge, a goal that would be an ending. After that, he would have had nothing to look forward to, and would have been content to die. But Emma, her family, and her community had given him a reason to live. They had brought him to this port—not a destination where his journey would end, but a launching point where a new journey could begin.
They were still dancing and reveling when the clock tower began to strike the hour: six o'clock. Everyone stopped and stared, most of them holding on to their loved ones. As they watched, the clock's face shattered, and tendrils of black, sparkly smoke burst out from the tower.
The curse was coming upon them.
"Where do you think it's taking us?" Killian asked quietly.
"It doesn't matter," Emma said adamantly. "Wherever we end up, we're gonna win."
There was no time to say goodbye, and no need to say "I love you." They were far past the need for professions or affirmations.
All they could do was hold each other now, and trust that they would do so again.