After twenty-four hours that had been filled with forgiving the man who initially caused his death, fighting beasts rising from the river of Lost Souls, helping destroy Hades, having a god see him off to "where he was meant to be," and even being resurrected from the dead, he could honestly say that the most surprising part of it all was the joy that he faced when reintroducing himself.

He had been anxious to get home, to relax, to get Emma back into a state of full health that came with a good night's rest and a large meal. Emma, on the other hand, wanted to show everyone that he was alive again, that there was a positive side to such an awful day. She wanted to share her happiness.

And, with her smiling like she had just found the world's finest treasure, who was he to tell her no?

So they headed to the loft.

He had attempted to use his usual bravado to alert them all to his presence.

Before Emma had been able to get through her small speech explaining what had happened and how, he had walked in, said a cocky greeting, and linked his hand with hers. (The small amount of time it had taken her to get through what little of the explanation that she had was already far too long to have been apart.)

He smiled at them all while they gaped, expecting their shock to wear off soon so that he could get back to being the regularly scheduled obnoxious pirate, rather than a miracle.

However, their jaws remained slack, the room remained silent, and after it all became too much, his smile diminished.

After several more moments of everyone being shocked into silence, finally, Snow spoke.

"You-You're back," she said steadily, carefully, as if speaking too loudly would send him back to his grave.

However he was becoming increasingly aware of how none of them seemed to be made any cheerier by his presence. They were reacting - sure, but not in a way that would say they were anything other than unsuspecting.

It was then that he was hit by the terrible thought that perhaps they hadn't wanted him back. That maybe - after the loss of such good man like Robin - he was simply a sad replacement for the face they were truly wanting to have returned.

Maybe they had even been relieved at finding he had not been coming back. Emma's free, they must have thought. Finally we no longer must deal with an unwanted villain.

He was sickened at thinking he may have been a disappointment.

He gave a very small smile as he looked to the ground, saying, "Aye, milady, I-" he sighed, slightly curling in on himself as his insecurities tried to rip him apart. "I'm back."

He kept looking at both the ground and he and Emma's intertwined fingers in an attempt to distract himself from what he was sure would be dismay staring back at him.

Concentrating on their hands helped him remain anchored, not flying away with all of his crushing thoughts. He did the best he could to just think about anything but how the Charmings must have wanted more for their daughter, or how Henry must have felt realizing that he had returned and not the man that seemed to be like a father to him. He thought about how at least he had Emma, that - even if he didn't deserve her - she had stayed by his side and loved him; more than what he ever could have expected.

He felt his cheeks begin to burn as the silence stretched on for several more seconds, and he lowered his head further, hoping to hide the pink tinge that most-likely decorated his entire face. He wished he would have been able to keep up the act of normalcy - as if he'd just been on a short vacation and he was home now. However, with them not speaking, or moving, or doing anything he could barely get enough breath in his lungs to say he's sorry, let alone make a snarky quip.

What he could do was hope that none of them saw that he was affected. Think that maybe they didn't notice, all too lost in their own disappointment at his return. Maybe then, after his coming back had blown over, they wouldn't see him as someone they could get to. They'd leave him alone like they'd eventually learned to in Neverland.

He chanced a glance back at Emma, who was seemingly unaffected by the lack of a reaction. She was still giving him the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her. The one that makes the skin around her eyes crinkle, and her nose turn up just a tad.

He smiled back. How could he not when she was just so damn happy.

At least he had her, he thought again. Though, this time, those thoughts were mingling with a warm bed, a dark room, and home.

He wished so badly just to go home.

But that's when he heard a chuckle from the other side of the room. A soft, unbelieving scoff that caused him to glance over at the faces of those he was sure had been happy to see him go - their mourning merely for their daughter's comfort - only to find smiles on all of them.

Smiles that matched his true love's as he could see pieces of her in all of them. Smiles that led to tears in their eyes, and the shaking of their heads as they struggled to find the words to express their joy.

Smiles that led each one of them - starting with a fierce and strong Henry - hugging the living daylights out of him as finally their mouths caught up with their brains.

"How? How did this happen?" Snow said, a grip on his left arm as she leaned back for a moment.

"Are you okay?" David chimed in. "Do you need anything?"

His arm was wrapped around the right side of him, and he swore for a second his hand wandered up to the back of his head.

It was probably this point where he stopped finding the prince's concern for him to be amusing.

And finally, his arms tightly wrapped around his middle as Killian struggled to answer their questions and deal with his own emotions, Henry's voice trailed up, muffled due to his position, saying "We're so, so glad to have you back."

He finally allowed himself to break into his own smile as he hugged Henry as tight as he could, and let himself be hugged by those who cared for him. His smile was only intensified when he looked at Emma, who was wearing an approving grin, and gave him a slight nod.

He tapped his nose on the top of Henry's head, continuing to comfort him just by being there (though it's doubtful that he knew that - forever unaware of his importance), and allowing a small chuckle to escape his own mouth.

"Glad to be back," he whispered, his throat too tight with emotion to do much else.

And, in that moment, he stopped wishing for home, because, accepted and loved by those who, not so long ago, looked at him with suspicion and distrust, he already was.