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The first time she realizes something is wrong is at the sorcerer’s mansion. Elsa has just saved Emma’s magic, but Killian is behaving like she’d saved her life. Sure, he’s “a fan of” (his euphemism for loves since he knows she’s too chicken to accept the reality of their situation) every part of her, but his relief, his enthusiasm is too much. There’s something she’s missing. But for that moment, she’s happy to just kiss him, even with her blushing friend five feet away (Anna and Kristoff were probably jumping each other’s bones all the time, too, right? Probably).
The next time is much the same. With the curse of Shattered Sight upon them, the whole damn town is about to start ripping each other apart. It’s scary and she’s scared, but Killian looks… resigned, accepting? Like he knows the worst is coming whereas Emma is only worried that’s the inevitability. He’s usually so confident in her, justified or otherwise, but the way he says one last time suggests ever rather than just before the curse hits. And his kiss – it’s like a goodbye with his intensity, and again he’s being just a bit more passionate than he’d usually be with witnesses (he’s certainly never used tongue in front of her parents before, not that she isn’t enjoying it). He’s passionate, desperate, and also somehow… empty? It’s an echo of the desperation she recalls from her first kiss with Graham.
But she doesn’t have time to overanalyze any further. It’s her job to save everyone (him included).
(She can’t fail.)
And she doesn’t. There is a steep price, in the end, but the curse is broken. And when she hits the streets of Storybrooke again, arm in arm with the closest thing she’s got to sisters, running into the arms of her father, greeting her son and her little brother with joy – everything almost feels whole again. Except Killian is missing.
And when they find him again, he’s halfhearted. He joins them at the town line, watches the ice wall come down. But he shows no relief. Emma is trying to help her friends get back home – they have a kingdom of their own that needs saving – but Killian slinks off through the woods like he’s got something to hide, like she isn’t so hyperaware of him that she’d somehow not notice his weird-as-fuck creeping away during a very important moment for the town and all its inhabitants.
The third time she is when she knows. He’s cold. He’s empty. His mannerisms are all wrong. She’s a human lie detector, and that kiss – it’s a lie. He’s revealed the location of the portal to Arendelle (conveniently not recalling how or why), and he refuses to accompany her there, citing bruises that need to be seen to: this, coming from the man who followed her into a portal to the goddamn past without second thought. The man who barely wanted medical attention after being run over with a fucking car. No, these words aren’t Killian’s. That voice isn’t Killian’s. Honestly, it’s almost like…
Gold.
Of fucking course.
The voice, the flourishing of the hands, the flimsy excuses. It’s the Dark One.
He’s got Killian’s heart.
She knows how the mind-control-using-a-heart tactic works. She’s watched Regina do it (admittedly with better intentions). You can order vague commands for them to carry out on their own terms, but to coach their words with that much detail – Gold is at this moment speaking into Killian’s heart.
She can’t let on she knows, not when Gold could just up and turn him to dust at the first sign of Emma’s suspicion.
And it’s sealed for her, when Killian grabs her hand, squeezing so hard she’ll bruise. That’s Killian getting through, fighting the possession. Begging her to notice something’s wrong.
Gold thinks he holds Killian’s heart in his hands, but he doesn’t. His heart is hers.
And she’s going to get it back.
When Emma leaves Granny’s she walks slowly, casually. Once she’s out of Killian’s sight, she yanks Elsa to the side, leaving Anna and Kristoff looking a bit confused.
“My parents will take you to the mansion. They’ll see you that you get home. I wish I could join you. But Gold… he has Killian’s heart. I don’t know why he has it, but it can’t be good. And I know you need to save your kingdom from Hans.” Emma pulls the Queen in for a brief hug and then does the same with Anna. “Good luck, guys.”
“I’m so sorry, Emma! We’ll find a way to see one another again,” Elsa says.
“I’ll hold you to that, your Majesty,” Emma says with a smile, breaking into a sprint toward Gold’s shop.
She sees the asshole quickly – Killian following closely behind him – on their way to the clock tower. Ugh, that fucking place. No good ever came from their visits there, did it?
Killian looks scared. Terrified. Either that jackass Gold is about to make him do something terrible, or Killian knows he’s marching to his death.
Emma will be having none of that.
No. Her pirate with his good heart, he’s not going to have the weight of any more darkness on his soul. And he’s certainly not dying. He promised, promised her he was a survivor. She is making sure he keeps that promise.
She has to get his attention. Not too enthusiastically or the Douche One will know. But she can’t just let him walk around hopeless. Plus, once she formulates an actual plan she’ll probably need him to be aware of her lurking. He might have a role to play.
Oh, fucking hell, how is she going to out-magic Rumple-fucking-stiltskin, puppetmaster extraordinaire? He’s the reason they’re even in this godforsaken town in the first place.
Killian and Gold have just about reached the tower when she makes her move to nab his attention. She’s done this particular move once before, in a lighter moment, just to try to make him smile when it seemed something was weighing on his soul (it was – the Wicked Bitch of the West had cursed his lips. Would they ever have one fucking quiet moment?). With a wave of her hand, his hook is suddenly hanging out of his back pocket – teleported from its usual position in his brace by her magic.
Killian notices the change in weight, the lightness of his arm paired with the dip of his (very tight) jeans (yum). He yanks the hook forward and clicks it back into place before Gold notices, throwing a confused-but-knowing look over his shoulder.
He finds her eyes immediately, looking scared and apologetic. She tries to do the telepathic conversation thing like they do on How I Met Your Mother (her dad’s favorite TV show), but her message is probably a bit too mixed for him to comprehend, considering she’s simultaneously screaming Don’t worry, baby, I’m here to rescue you and Jones, I’m going to fucking kill you.
Right. Now that he knows she’s there, it’s time to make a plan.
She knows the second part of the plan: once she sees Killian’s heart, she can teleport it into her own hands. And though she’s never actually performed a protection spell on a heart before, Regina had shown her how it was done after she’d done it to Henry to keep his heart safe from Pan.
Pan. He’d made those cuffs that had subdued Regina and Rumple’s magic before. Where had they gone? If she could get that on Rumple’s wrist then he’d be basically useless. It might be back in Gold’s shop…
Ugh, nevermind. She didn’t have that kind of time.
Magic had never been her strong suit, not before. Maybe this is a time to exercise her land-without-magic powers. In other words, violence.
She recognizes this isn’t a great plan. Rumple gives zero fucks that she’s the mother of his grandson, and the second he realizes she’s in his way, he’ll probably incinerate her. Well, incineration seems more the Evil Queen’s style. He had threatened to turn Belle into a toad in front of Emma once? Yeah, it seems fitting for a coward to have a little-man complex, wanting to squash things beneath his feet. He’d probably crush her like a bug.
The men have now entered the tower, slowly climbing the stairs as Emma enters behind them. She’s careful to make as little noise as possible, praying that she doesn’t trip over her own feet like the time she was chasing the thief. This is so not the moment for her ill-timed awkward clumsiness.
Once they’re at the top of the tower stairs, Rumple pulls out a wand and opens up a hat, a myriad of stars bursting forth above him. This is her only shot.
In a poof of bluish-white smoke, Emma disappears from the bottom of the tower and reappears just behind Rumple, reaching around him in one swift motion to choke him at the same time she knees him between the thighs. He doubles over in pain, only temporarily distracted from his evil misdeeds. Emma teleports Killian’s heart into her hand, closing her eyes and saying the protection spell in her head. She knows it’s worked when the heart glows, Killian looking at her in appreciation, but the fear hasn’t quite melted away yet. Rumple will recover in seconds and Emma really doesn’t have a step 3 to her plan. Probably her death at this point.
She wishes she could regret doing this – she doesn’t want to leave Henry, after all – but what was the alternative, to just let Killian die? Just trust that someone else would save him? No, she made the best choice she could. And if she was doomed for it, then so be it. At least Killian might still make it out alive.
Gold stands straight up, turning to face Emma.
“Bad move, dearie. Are you really ready to die for the pirate?”
“Of course,” Emma snaps, and he raises his arm above him, choking her from afar like he’s fucking Darth Vader (he probably is, isn’t he? Seems like he’s the villain of just about every movie made by Disney, for Christ’s sake).
Emma feels her airway closing, her vision going fuzzy at the edges. She knows she can try to just make a burst of energy to stun him, but she doesn’t know how to focus it enough to not hurt Killian in the process. She tries and Gold stumbles backward a bit, but it’s not enough. He needs to get her out of the way quickly to finish whatever he had going on that she interrupted. She can see the stars shifting and seeming to line up with the sky above, and his grip on her gets stronger.
Until, suddenly, it stops.
“Why can’t I finish you?” he grunts out, Emma still hovering in the air, but her airway no longer constricting.
“Because I commanded you not to!” a voice comes from behind them.
Belle.
Poor, sweet Belle is holding the dagger bearing her husband’s name. She’s holding it like the weapon it is, controlling him, finally facing the evil within him that’s never done anything but hide. She’d trusted that he’d changed, but it’s become glaringly obvious that he hasn’t.
And he tried to take Killian with him. He probably did, in one way or another, based on the shame she’d seen in Killian’s eyes – the shame that suggests he’s participated in a dark deed or two in recent history.
But he has changed. Killian is a good man – who apparently makes some really idiotic decisions that lead to things like his damn heart being ripped from his chest.
Rumple drops Emma and Belle shouts something about needing a private conversation at the town line, and suddenly she and Killian are all alone in the clock tower, the stars that had been bursting forth from the hat suddenly sucked back up inside, the hat folding into a metallic casing.
During the whole strangulation episode, Emma had dropped Killian’s heart, so she picks it up, turning back to face him fully for the first time since she’d poofed herself upstairs.
“Swan, I’m so happy you’re – ”
“Stop right there, mister.” Emma puts her hand up, blocking him from taking her into his arms as he so obviously desired. “You made me a promise.”
“Aye, that I did. And, in all technicality, providing that you don’t crush that heart yourself, I have kept that promise.”
“You’re lucky I’ve already protected it because, believe me, right now I’m tempted to squeeze,” she says, holding the pulsing red heart (with just the smallest dusting of residual darkness floating inside) in front of her.
“I’m sorry, love, I tried to tell you.” Killian reaches out his good hand to thread his fingers together with hers. “He blackmailed me. He knew I’d do anything to be with you and he used it against me.”
“You could have trusted me, Killian. There’s nothing he could have held over your head before he removed your heart that you couldn’t have told me. I would have understood. I thought we – well, I thought we were a team now. And you. You… idiot. If it weren’t for me, if it weren’t for Belle…” She trailed off. “He was going to crush your heart, wasn’t he?”
Killian starts to explain but she stops him, telling him the clock tower isn’t the place. She warns him to hold on, squeezes his fingers, and suddenly they’re in the living room of his apartment above Granny’s.
She’s still holding his heart, silently warning him that he doesn’t get it back until the whole story is out.
He starts from the beginning, the deal he made to have his hand returned, the dirty business to which he played apprentice. She gets a bit sick when he fills in the facts of those moments where she knew, how that desperate kiss in the mansion was just after his heart was ripped from him, how the second (goodbye) kiss was just before he was to be killed.
After he’s finished the story, all the way up to the part where the Dark One was trying to cleave himself from the dagger, she wrenches her hand back, walking over to his nightstand to retrieve his flask.
“And what do you plan to do with that, love?” He quirks his eyebrows, unconsciously dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. He probably thinks he’s earned a drink.
Emma takes a deep swig from the flask before tucking it in her back pocket, adjusting Killian’s heart so she’s balancing it delicately in both hands. He looks down at her as she stares at his chest.
“Just be gentle?” he requests as she slams the now-protected heart through his rib cage.
“Unh!” he grunts.
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not,” she jokes, trailing her fingers over the exposed hair at his chest. “You scared me, Killian. Don’t do that again. I probably won’t survive saving your ass next time.”
“Yes, your Highness,” he says before surging forward, swinging her around to push her against the wall as he captures her lips with his. Ah, yes. This is what kissing the love of your life feels like when his heart is actually in his chest.
He pours every ounce of emotion he’d been lacking all those weeks into the kiss and she responds just as eagerly, her hand resting over his heart as his hand moves up and down her back, tangling in her hair. He’s the first to pull back, and Emma hasn’t had nearly enough, but with him finally safe she knows she’s got a whole lot of other shit to focus on. Had Elsa made it home? Had Regina set any part of the town on fire after Robin left? Where the hell was her son (she’s not currently winning any Mom of the Year awards, is she)?
She chases his lips and he smiles like the smug bastard he is. “I told you, Swan. I’m a survivor.”
She looks up at him through her lashes, smiling back. “Only because I’ve got your back, Jones.”
“Always?”
“You bet.”
She kisses him once more before reaching in her pocket for his flask. “Guess you’ve earned this now. I’ve got other people I’ve got to go check on. Savior duties and all. Breakfast with Henry and I in the morning?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”