There wasn't really anything Killian could do, not in the sense of it. But he knew just as much, well, he knew more than Emma really did when it came to Neal. The quips could've fallen flat, and even with this all being far too much pressure and tension and just wrong, she couldn't help the smile. Tight and sad and soft as it was.
His heart was still there, that was possibly a good thing. Emma remembered just how useless she'd been as Graham had died, heart crushed somewhere else and her with no way to help. At least they didn't have that, at least they could do something?
"There's nothing obvious," nothing glaringly wrong, no wounds, nothing bleeding or falling off, she hoped it wasn't a curse, she was seriously running out of True Love to go around -without her mom, without Henry, she wasn't sure just where she and Jefferson were with things and working it out like this would likely not help those matters. Things were far too jumbled with Neal right then too.
"Just hold still, okay?" She half wanted to move him, get him to the bed, try and help him feel comfortable. But it really didn't seem like they had the time. Pressing her hand to Neal's chest, just above where Killian's felt for the beat, Emma tried to push her healing, to work around finding out what was wrong and just focus on healing something.