It's been two weeks since she'd been gone, disappeared out of thin air (literally), left a sobbing mother, a heartbroken family, and him behind. He was angry, the feeling all too familiar – one that had been well practiced over three hundred years. He was angry with the world, for taking her away from him, angry with Rumpelstiltskin, but most of all with himself. It was the rules of the book after all; a villain never got a happy ending. He just wished Emma wasn't the one paying his price.

He didn't even realize the barstool next to him moving until the new patron sitting on it spoke – eyes red with unshed tears, voice scratchy.

"You can't do this to yourself, Killian."

He didn't answer as usual, staring at his drink. The only interaction he had in these couple of weeks was with Belle, asking for books to assist his research, just a couple words and nothing more.

"Life goes on, she's gone but you're here."

"Stop talking like she's dead. She's not, I know it," he muttered through gritted teeth.

If David's defeated sigh was any indication, the brief conversation was over. He expected the prince to leave him be, but instead he waved to the bartender. Words lost their ability to soothe his soul, they made him angry – silence was nice. It didn't do any good to lessen the pain but it was better than empty words, condolences, and speeches of hope for a new beginning. He didn't want a new beginning. He just wanted Emma back.

He woke up in his own quarters, shoes removed sitting next to his small bed, his clothes from yesterday still on his back, a blanket tucked around him. He assumed David dragged his drunken arse back to the Jolly Roger; he didn't remember getting back to his ship. Most nights he didn't even make it there – dozing off on a bench at the docks or on the uncomfortable stools of The Rabbit Hole from time to time thanks to the alcohol he consumed every night. It was the only way he could sleep without any nightmares. He'd lost count of the dreams of her that haunted him, the ones that broke him all over again.

He could see the paper bag of Granny's sitting on his table, on top of the maps of another world that hadn't been used for a very long time. He appreciated the gesture. She never said anything, knowing it wouldn't help. Every day, she just sent a bag of food with her wolf granddaughter, making sure not to put any onion rings in it.

He grabbed the bag as he made his way to the library; ignoring the headache he made acquaintances with in the last two weeks. He just waved at Belle, not even bothering a fake smile. He didn't think she would hold it against him.

"It seems we have a new research partner," said Belle with a soft smile on her lips, handing him the black coffee he very much needed.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression turning to a sorrowful one as he saw Emma's boy.

"Killian."

He hadn't seen him since that horrible day; he couldn't find the courage to look him in the eye. He knew their current situation affected Henry the worst – Killian knew the feeling of losing a mother too, after all. He was wondering his whereabouts but didn't ask David. All he learnt was that he never left Emma's room, refusing to see anyone, let alone go back to his other room in Regina's house.

What took him by surprise more than the boy's existence in the library was the arms of his wrapping around him, enveloping him in a tight hug. It took all his willpower not to cry then and there, not to join in Henry's silent tears while hugging him back just as tightly.

"I know Mom is still alive. Everyone keeps telling me she's not, but I know she is. I can feel it. I know you know it too… I heard Grandpa talking to Granma yesterday night. They don't believe it but I know they want to. I want to help you look. I want my mom back."

Killian cracked a little smile for the first time in weeks then; it felt like as though his muscles forgot the motion.

"Then we shall have your help, Henry," Killian replied, putting his hand on his shoulder, leading him to the table he used for research.

Four days later, instead of Henry, a very angry Regina greeted him at the library.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? He's already heartbroken. Stop putting these ideas in his head! It's going to do nothing but upset him even further. Emma is gone, learn to live with it!" shouted the mayor before she was aware of the harsh words coming out of her mouth.

"Learn to live with it? Would you be able to live with it if Robin was gone, not knowing if he's dead or at some other place, everyone telling you that he's dead but a voice inside of you tells you otherwise? Weren't you the one who went to bring him back from that city? I know she's not dead, I can feel it, and so does Henry. You know their connection; Henry and Emma have the kind of love that can even break curses. What he feels isn't an illusion. He needs his mother; not just you but his other mother! We all need Emma, but most of all we owe this to her! She did this to save us all. You owe it to her!"

Regina flinched slightly at the outburst, though taking every jab with a raised chin and the posture of a queen she used to be. Killian was aware of the inclination of his words, he was aware that what he said meant he thought Emma was his true love, but oh how he truly loved her.

"I'm –" Regina didn't finish her sentence, just turned her back with crestfallen shoulders and walked out of the library.

The next day Henry paid him another visit after school for help. He could almost hear Regina's silent apology.

It had been two months since she was gone and all the information they found led to a dead end every single time. He could sense the desperation seeping into his bones – as if he could be any more desperate than he already was. Though Henry and his belief for Emma's whereabouts slowly gave hope to her parents as well – it was weird to think about; giving hope to the embodiment of hope themselves.

Slowly Mary Margaret joined their routine with her hands full of food, telling them they wouldn't be able to work if they didn't fill their stomachs, helping them till Emma's brother woke up and interrupted the quiet of the library. On weekends, when he wasn't dealing with the Sheriff duties that were left from her daughter, David joined them as well; his brows furrowed reading books carefully for clues.

He reduced his drinking but he wasn't sure that was a good call. Their research gave him a purpose, a hope, but the nightmares that haunted him didn't go away. Every night they came with full force; blue lightning flashing, the thunder growling in the sky as though it attempted to break the earth in half, and Emma gone. Emma was always gone. At some point it felt like he was about to lose his sanity.

Henry's excited voice echoing in the library interrupted his thoughts. As he read the text aloud, smiles started to form in the faces of others in the room. Now that was more than just hope, this was the beginning of a real solution. He looked at the boy's tired eyes that started to shine in the last two months for the first time with true happiness. He was sure he had the same expression on his face and the same light in his eyes.

He would find Emma.