AN: I figured I should write some fluff after that finale… and before I got into the really angsty CS stuff I know I'm gonna write, because I am in an angst battle over on Tumblr. So please enjoy this alternate version of the CS reunion in the loft in the finale.

Sunshine

When he wakes up, the first thing he does is run his hand over his chest. He can still remember it, the feel of the blade. Can still remember Emma's face, how it had crumpled, how she had called for him.

Emma.

He struggles to his feet, and sees that he's in the loft again, and a relieved smile hits his lips. They did it, then. Swan and her lad did it. He knew they would.

Even as Blackbeard's deck boy, he had taken one look at his Swan and known that she could do anything. His hand runs over his chest again and he looks about the room. A few feet away, the queen and her prince lie, still unconscious. Killian knows he should probably check on them, make sure they're okay, but memories are still fresh in his mind.

Staring down the queen, only to be stabbed in the back by the prince…

His hand runs over his chest once more, and then he clenches his fist. He knows the royals aren't to blame for what they did, that they were written that way. After all, he isn't that cowardly deck boy.

But he still steps lightly when he walks around them, goes up the stairs to the loft where he knows Emma sleeps. It's enough distance that his muscles relax, even though he knows it's foolish that he was tense in the first place. His hand hovers over his chest once more, and Killian bites back a curse, and runs it through his hair instead. He glances around, to see if Henry is there, but there's no sign of him. With his mothers, he assumes, and leans against the wall with a weary sigh.

He is fine. He is alive and whole, and Emma and her boy are fine, now all he needs is for her to be there.

He hears the royals begin to stir and think that he should maybe make his presence known, but he remembers that damn sword, and finds himself staying back. Just a little longer, until he knows he has his bearings…

And then the door swings open, and he hears her voice.

"Where is he?"

The worry in her voice sends a pang into his heart, and he moves away from the wall, so he can look down and see her.

"Where is… Hook?"

There's a hesitance before his name, as though she's afraid of what the answer might be. Her parents are holding each other and look at Emma when she bursts in.

"He was there, right before we got dragged away," the prince replies, nodding at the spot behind the counter, where Killian had woken up.

"Everyone reappeared where they were before this whole mess started," Emma says, walking towards the spot. He can't see her face, but he hears the worry in her voice when she murmurs out, "No…"

And he can't let her worry anymore, and leans against the pillar to grin down at them, hoping that they can't see through the devil-may-care look on his face to see how affected he is by her worry.

"Yeah, sorry about the mess. I really needed to find that book, and I'm usually a bit tidier."

Emma's face lights up with a smile when she looks up at him, and Killian swears that the prince's shoulders fall, just slightly, in relief. The sight makes him grin, and some of his hesitance towards the royals melts away. He knew the prince was starting to like him.

Then Emma is behind him, and in his arms, and he stops thinking about her parents all together.

"Killian," she says with a relieved laugh, and they hold each other, swaying back and forth, until Killian feels the bed behind his knees and falls back with a laugh. Emma giggles, landing on top of him, and he doesn't think there's another sound in the world that's as beautiful as his Swan's giggle.

She sits up so she's straddling his waist and entwines their fingers together. They smile at each other, but Killian can still see them in her eyes – the shadows of worry. And he hates that he put them there.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Love? I'm a survivor" – when he sees her gaze dart to his chest, and remembers the way he touched it himself after first awaking, his voice becomes more serious. He would have brushed some of the hair that's fallen into her face away, but her grip on his hand tells him that it won't be breaking anytime soon – "Look, I didn't mean to cause any panic. I woke moments before your parents and came up here looking for your boy."

"He's fine. Henry's fine," Emma replies, her voice more a sigh than anything, and she's still looking at him as though she's afraid that he might disappear at any moment. It remind him of her face in the other timeline, and how it had shattered when he had been skewered. How broken she had looked, how that had been his last sight, and how he had regretted so very much that she would mourn him, when such a beautiful woman should never feel that dark pain. "I'm just glad you are too."

There's more in her eyes now, a hesitance almost. Killian isn't sure what it's about, what thoughts are going through her mind. He just wants them to go away. So he rears up, claims her lips in a kiss that has her energetically returning it. She releases her hold on his hand, so she can hold onto his face instead, and Killian angles his head to kiss her the better.

It's not escaped his attention that they're on a bed – her bed – and he wonders if she can feel the arousal beneath her. He imagines so. God knows he's aware of it.

"I – wait," she presses her hands into his chest, keeps a little bit of distance between them. "When I watched you die… there was something I was afraid I'd never get to tell you."

That hesitance is still in her eyes, and now it's matched with fear. His Swan, still so broken by everything, and though Killian wants nothing more than to hear the words – would die a happy man to hear them just once – he doesn't want it when that look is in her eyes.

He tangles his hand in her hair, pulls her in for another kiss. She lets him, her tongue drifting to rub against his, one of her hands rising to his hair, giving it a little tug that makes him moan against her lips.

"You're not making it easy for me to say this," she says, pulling away from him again, and then resting her forehead on his. It's such a tender action, that Killian closes his eyes and simply revels in her nearness.

"I know," he says, his voice little more than a breath. He hears her breath catch and opens his mouth to see her looking at him.

"Why?" she asks, running fingers down his cheeks. "Don't" – now there's more than hesitance and fear in her eyes, there's something like pain and it makes Killian want to curse – "don't you want to hear it?"

He cradles her face in his palm, because doesn't she know? Doesn't she know that he would die a hundred more times, if it meant she survived? Doesn't she know that everything he is, everything he does, is for her and her happiness?

Doesn't she know that all he wants is her love, but that he wants it when she's sure of it?

"More than anything," he tells her, closing his eyes again, keeping their foreheads together. "I want it more than anything. But I can be patient, Emma."

"I know," she says, and she pulls away, cradles his face again. "Look at me Killian."

He does, helpless to deny her that.

"I watched you die. I watched you die and all I could think, was that you died without knowing… without my having ever told you…" she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and when she opens them, they are free of uncertainty and fear. They're clear and strong, and so very, very determined.

"I am in love with you, Killian Jones."

He doesn't say anything at first, his throat working rapidly. Because knowing what she wanted to say, and hearing it? Hearing it in a strong voice, with her holding his face, looking into his eyes.

He pulls her in for another kiss, falling back on the bed once more so their bodies are perfectly aligned. She seems perfectly content to allow him to do so, and he doesn't want this to ever end. Lying here, kissing her.

And once again, he remembers that they're on a bed –

"Emma, Hook… we're going to Granny's. An impromptu the danger is over again celebration."

Hook lets out a gusty sigh at the queen's voice, and Emma rests her head against his shoulder.

"That's great, Mom!" she calls, frustration painting her tone. "We'll be down in a second."

She moves to get off of him, but Killian halts her, and she looks back at him with a furrowed brow. He can't let her go, not quite yet. Not when he needs to say something.

"I love you too, Swan."

Her smile is filled with all of the sun that's been absent from his life for too long, and she pulls him in for another searing kiss.

"To be continued, okay?" she asks him, a wicked look in her eye that reminds him that there's more than just a little pirate in her.

"I look forward to it."

AN: And there you go… because I'm still mad she just didn't SAY I LOVE YOU! THE TIMING WAS PERFECT! WHAT WERE YOU WAITING FOR, EMMA?! A FREAKING TRUMPET?

And I apologize for the yelling. I just have feelings.