#csnlny22

Mother Superior jumps, whirling in surprise but then settling when she sees the two of them. She looks Killian over carefully, like she’s trying to place him and clearly can’t. But she doesn’t look afraid. Emma hadn’t realised that in his t-shirt and sweatpants and sneakers, Killian is a much less out-of-place figure, especially here in the hospital. He looks like any patient, or a visitor rather than the crazy sword-wielding, leather-wearing stranger everyone’s heard about. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asks kindly.

“We haven’t had the pleasure. But I’m acquainted with an old friend of yours.” 

“Oh?” 

Killian nods and Emma thinks that maybe that old friend isn’t a friend anymore. “We need something from you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Magic,” Killian answers and Emma tries to hide her exasperation and her confusion as Mother Superior looks to her for an explanation. She can’t give one. Emma can see her trying to make sense of his words when finally a soft, almost pitying expression crosses the nun’s face. 

“Is someone you care about ill?” Killian frowns at her, nearly ripping his hand away when she takes it in both of hers. But he pauses, looking at their joined hands as though something’s wrong, something’s missing. “Faith can do a lot,” she promises sympathetically. “And my sisters and I would be happy to pray with you and your loved one. But there’s no magic cure, not like you’re asking for. We don’t have that kind of power.”

Emma watches Killian pull his hand back, watching the woman strangely. “Aye, you don’t.” He seems surprised, like he genuinely expected her to have magic, but also like he believes her that she doesn’t have it. He looks at the two other nuns, the same kind of surprised understanding pulling at his features. Then he nods and heads off the way they came. “That complicates things,” he mutters to himself more than to her.

“What does?”

“This is the Land Without Magic - the very thing we need to leave.” 

“Magic? What do you mean magic?”

He looks at her like she’s exasperating. “Magic, Swan. Spells, potions, enchantments. In our case, fairy dust.” 

Emma stares at him, waiting for the punchline, waiting for him to smirk or elaborate; but he’s dead serious apparently. “Fairy dust? What is that? Some kind of drug?” Is that what’s been causing his delusions? Has he been high out of his mind this whole time? Or had he indulged too much and permanently messed up his sense of reality. 

“We need a fairy,” is the only answer she gets and she stares, frown deepening in confusion. 

“As in tiny, magic women with wings?” As in Tinkerbell? She nearly asks but is too afraid of what his answer might be. 

“Aye. That woman… I  thought she would have what we need, but something’s happened to her magic - I could feel it.” ” He looks at his hand, fingers flexing as though he can still feel or not feel whatever he did when Mother Superior touched him. 

“There aren’t any fairies around here. There’s no magic here, Killian.” Emma takes a deep, steadying breath. Lean into the fantasy, she reminds herself. She needs his help and if he thinks he needs to find some freaking fairy to get her to her kid then fine, so long as he does it quickly. 

He thinks for a moment and then something smug crosses his expression even as she can tell he’s remembering something dark from the shadow that falls over his eyes. “That’s not entirely true.” 

“Meaning?”

He smirks. “There are always loopholes.” And then he’s taking off down the hall again and she’s hurrying to catch up. Loopholes? What loopholes. Trying to keep up with him is harder than keeping up with Henry. 

Henry. The weight falls over her again. She needs to find Henry. Just do whatever the crazy man wants, she tells herself. Help him find whatever loophole he’s looking for if it’ll take you to your kid. Every second longer she takes to go after him is a second longer he’s away from her, a second longer he could be in danger, a second longer he could start to worry she’s not coming for him. 

“What are we looking for?” Emma asks, when she finally catches up to him, his pace slowing as his fingers hold his ribs gingerly. She debates offering to help him but knows he’s too angry to accept her help now. 

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who agreed not to question me.” The sharpness in his voice is a mixture of annoyance and pain as he winces. 

“If I know what we’re looking for it’ll be easier for me to help you find it.” 

He rolls his eyes. “An infant.” 

“A baby? Why do we need a baby?” 

“Do you know where to find one?” 

“That depends.”

“On what?” Killian faces her with annoyance bordering on the frustration and anger from earlier. 

“You’re not gonna…” she starts, looking at him hesitantly. She knows now that he wouldn’t hurt a kid, but - “We aren’t going to like, take the kid with us, right?” 

“Of course not.” His face is dark as he answers, his tone sombre as he vows, “I’d never bring a child there.” 

Emma nods, matching his mood. “Okay. Come on then.” She leads him to the maternity ward, the sound of cooing and crying already drifting down the hall as they approach. “Wait,” she orders when he moves to walk in. She can see Ashley, carrying Alexandra in her arms.

He sighs. “Why?” 

“Look, I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from but here, people find it strange when someone just lingers around kids that aren’t theirs.” She swallows heavily, painfully before she adds, “Especially when one’s already gone missing.” The look that he gives her could almost be misconstrued as sympathy - if she didn’t know better. “Tell me what we need to do.” He looks at her like he doesn’t trust her and she doesn’t blame him. “People know me here. I have a better shot than you do.” 

That seems to convince him, even if he still looks displeased. “Fairies are born in different ways in different realms. But in many, they’re born when a child laughs for the first time,” he explains, seriously.

“So we’re here…”

“To make a baby laugh.” 

“So that a fairy can be born…” 

“And we can capture it.” 

Deep breath. “And this will get us to Henry?” 

“You’re doing it again - the questioning.” She stays silent and he sighs.  “I told you I would get you to your boy.” 

“Okay. Okay, fine, come on.” 

“Ashley! Hey,” she calls and the woman looks up. 

“Emma, I heard about what happened. Have you found Henry?” Emma shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine what I’d do if something happened to…” she looks down at the baby in her arms, smiling up at her, alert and happy. Emma realises she never saw Henry that way, only a glimpse of him, new and screaming, and then again ten years later. It’s like a punch to the gut. “I’m so sorry,” Ashley says again. 

She nods. “This is my friend Killian,” she introduces, and Killian steps forward hesitantly. “From Boston. He’s helping me with the search.” They both smile politely at each other. “Listen, I was wondering if I could talk to you. I’m trying to interview everyone in town about whether they saw or heard anything last night.” 

“Of course,” Ashley agrees, shifting Alexandra as she starts fussing. “Um, I just…” she turns to Killian then. “Could you?” she asks, before practically dumping the baby in his arms. He blinks at the mother in surprise, and then at Emma as the little bundle begins to settle and Emma gives him a pointed look. Do what you gotta do. 

She tries to pretend like she’s actually asking real questions, like she’s taking note of the answers, but her focus can’t stop drifting to Killian. He’s holding the little girl in the crook of his blunted arm, bouncing her ever so slightly as he makes gentle, cooing noises, a finger reaching out to brush over her cheek. 

It’s so strange and almost endearing to see him be so gentle with her, to watch the small smile tugging at his lips even as the rest of him maintains the serious demeanour he’s had all day. She remembers his fierce protectiveness over the girl he thought he had to save the other day, his patience with Henry, and she thinks maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising. 

Ashley’s answering something about her whereabouts last night when Killian tickles the baby’s chin with a finger, making a silly sound that is so unexpected coming from him, before tickling her tummy. Then it happens, a small, bubbling gurgle. Ashley hears it too, rushing over as Killian makes a face at the child and she lets out another tiny, adorable giggle, this one a proper laugh. 

“Oh my god, she’s never done that before!” Ashley is beaming, looking at her baby like she’s just walked on water rather than laughed for the first time. Killian pulls one more happy little sound from the kid before his gaze fixes on something and his expression turns serious and smug. 

“Here,” he says, passing Alexandra back to her mom, not taking his eyes off whatever he’s fixed on, following it. Emma looks where his gaze is aimed, but can’t see anything even as Killian stalks it like a cat does a fly, eyes and head sipping around in quick, unpredictable patterns. 

Then suddenly, he reaches out, quick as hell, making Ashley and Emma jump, and closes his hand around something. “Apologies,” he says when they both stare at him. “An annoying little creature.” He brings his closed hand to his chest, fingers clasped firmly but open enough so as not to crush whatever he’s holding. He nods towards the door and Emma takes the hint. 

“Thanks for your help,” Emma says to the other woman. “We need to get going, more people to question.” 

“Sure, good luck,” the young mom wishes them, already wrapped up in her happy baby again. 

“Did you get it?” Emma asks him and he nods, holding out his hand to her. She peeks inside and for a split second she actually expects to see something. But there’s nothing there. Of course there isn’t. But whatever he thinks he’s got, he seems satisfied as he looks around. 

“We need something to carry her in.” 

“Uhhh,” Emma finds an empty coffee cup on a nearby table, takes the lid off to shake out the few drops left and shows it to him. “Will this work?” 

“Aye, that’ll do.” 

Carefully, Killian deposits his non-existent prize into the cup and then pushes her hand that’s holding the lid over the top quickly and Emma’s reminded of being a kid collecting ladybugs in mason jars, shutting them tight before they could fly out. He takes the mug from her and for a second Emma swears she sees it rattle, as though something moved inside. But that’s impossible. 

“Settle down,” he tells the paper cup. “We’ll let you go soon enough.” There’s a short silence and he sighs. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re just going on a little trip.” Emma shuts her eyes, breathes deeply again and waits until he’s had his little moment with the imaginary fairy. “Shall we?” he asks her finally and she nods, leading them back towards the exit. 

“Wait,” she says suddenly, grabbing his arm and stopping him when she spots several guards further down the hall. He hesitates but allows her to pull him around the corner when he spots the security team clearly looking for him. 

“Aren’t you the Sheriff?” Killian hisses. “Surely you can dismiss your soldiers.” 

“First of all, they aren’t my soldiers.” She’s honestly not sure what her authority is here. Do hospital regulations trump her own? There’s also the very likely possibility that the true authority here is Regina, and if she finds out that Emma is taking Killian out of the psych ward… it wouldn’t end well for either of them. “And secondly, I just broke you out of a mental asylum. They aren’t going to be too keen on letting you out of here. At least not without a good reason.” 

“There’s only five. Can you fight?” 

“We’re not fighting them! And even if we were, look at yourself. You can barely stand and you think you can take on five guards?” 

“Well if you have a better idea…” His words are taunting, eyebrows raised in challenge. She doesn’t answer. “I’m waiting.”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” Whale joins the security team then and she does have an idea. The only person who wants them out of this hospital more than her and Killian is the doctor. She can use that. “Okay. I’ve got a plan. But you’re not gonna like it.” He eyes her warily and when she pulls out her handcuffs he looks like she’s betrayed him all over again. 

“I don’t think so, Swan. I’m not foolish enough to fall for your tricks.” 

“It’s not a trick, okay? I need them to think I’m arresting you. Maybe if we can convince Whale that I’m taking you to the station, he’ll discharge you into my care and then they’ll have no reason to hold you here.”

“I believe I’ve been in your care before, Sheriff. It didn’t work out so well for me.” 

She sighs. “Fine, my custody then. Look, it’s not real, we just need them to think it is.” He’s still not convinced. She can tell he’s seeing the reason behind her plan but he eyes the cuffs distrustfully. Emma holds them out to him. “You can put them on yourself, okay? Loose enough so that you can slip out the second we walk out that door.” Not that he’d need to. He’s already picked himself free once. 

Still watching her with a narrowed gaze he hands her the coffee cup. “Careful with that!” he snaps when she takes it distractedly. Emma adjusts her grip, holding the cup more steadily, like she would if it was full. Killian takes the cuffs from her and links them around his wrists. “If you try any -”

“I won’t.” She wants to be mad at him, annoyed at his distrust, but she can’t, because he has every reason not to trust her. So instead it’s a promise. Emma takes his arm, gripping his elbow and he looks at her hand on his skin like he wants to shrug it off. “Great,” she says when he tenses and pulls away slightly. “Keep that up, we have to sell it.”

“Sell it?”

“Make them think you hate me,” she explains. 

A ghost of a smirk crosses his face. “Trust me, Swan, that won’t be a problem.” 

Killian emits a subdued kind of fury as they make their way down the hall towards the doors, the guards jumping to action when they spot them. She can hear the scratch of the radios as they alert someone that ‘the patient’s been located’, one of them running up to her, looking relieved. 

“You found him,” she sighs. “Thank god.” 

“Yeah,” Emma improvises. Okay cool, they think he broke himself out and she’s captured him? She can work with that. “He’s slippery, this one.” She can feel the daggers being glared into the side of her head. 

“We can take him from here,” the guard says, reaching for Killian and she startles, turning wide, confused eyes on Emma when she pulls back a fraction.

“Actually… I’m going to bring him down to the station.”

“I can’t let you do that, Mam,” the woman says, sounding as authoritative as she can even as the words come out shaky at challenging the sheriff. “He’s the hospital’s responsibility until he’s been discharged.” 

“I’m arresting him,” Emma cuts in. “On suspicion of a crime.” It’s weak and while she can’t see Killian she can sense his judgement. 

“I still can’t let you take him.” 

“Can I talk to Whale? He’s his doctor right? You’re his doctor right?” she repeats when Whale lifts his head at the sound of his name. 

“Technically,” he nods, watching his patient warily and Killian smirks smugly at him. “He hasn’t been evaluated and officially transferred to the psychiatric unit yet.”  

“Can you discharge him?”

“I’d like nothing more. But if he poses a danger to himself or others -”

“Then he’d be best under the care of law enforcement wouldn’t you say?”

Whale looks torn between his hippocratic oath and his desire to be rid of the man who attacked him. “Until we can make sure that his injuries are healed and we’re not liable…”

“Can’t he discharge himself against doctor’s orders or whatever?” 

“Not if he’s not of sound mind to do so.”

“Not of sound mind?” Killian demands, finally unable to stay quiet. She elbows him discreetly.

“I’m putting him under arrest. You said he’s not technically under psychiatric care right? So he’s not under any kind of hold?” 

“No…” 

“It’s an urgent police matter.” 

Whale suddenly turns curious, like he’s expecting gossip. “Does this have anything to do with the Mayor’s kid disappearing? Henry disappearing,” he amends, looking a little apologetic.  

Emma hesitates. “Yes.” Killian tenses. She feels awful but it’s the closest answer she can get to the truth and a lie always sells better when there’s a hint of truth to it.

“Does Regina know about this?” 

“Who do you think asked me to arrest him?” 

He looks them both over carefully for a long moment, then nods. “Okay.” Emma stops herself sighing in relief, pulling Killian along behind her as she slips past Whale and the guards towards the door. “Oh, and Emma,” the doctor calls. She’s thrown by the sincerity in his expression when he tells her, “I hope you find your son.” 

When they’re outside, Killian slips the cuffs off and hands them back to her roughly, his entire demeanour rigid and angry. She thinks again of the way he’d tried to save the girl in the cafeteria, of the children he talked about seeing suffer in Neverland, of the fact that he’s helping her find Henry even after everything she put him through and guilt settles heavily in her chest. 

Whatever he was involved with, whoever these people are that they’re going to face, Killian’s clearly intensely protective of children, and now she’s surely started a rumour that he’s a danger to them. She doesn’t really think there’s anything she can say or do to make it better but she tries anyway. 

“Look, I’m sorry I let them think that -”

“Which way to the station?” he interrupts curtly. 

Right, so they’re not gonna talk about it then. “This way,” she answers, leading him towards the Bug. 

“What the bloody hell is that?” he demands, looking at the car like it’s going to bite him.” 

“It’ll get us to the station faster - and anywhere else we need to go.” He eyes the thing distrustfully. “ Just get in,” Emma sighs. “Please,” she adds when he doesn’t move. Killian watches her open the door and take her seat before mimicking her uncertainly and taking the cup back. He jumps when the engine starts but doesn’t comment further as they drive the few minutes to the station. When they arrive, he stumbles a little as he steps out and she decides to blame it on his injuries. “You alright?” 

“I prefer ships,” is all he says. Right. Captain Hook. “My effects,” he reminds her and she nods, heading towards the building, Killian following closely behind her. It takes her a minute to dig them up. She’d sent one of the guards from the hospital to leave them here and apparently he’d decided the storage closet was the best spot.

“Here,” Emma hands him the heavy bag and he takes it with a sort of relief that makes her feel almost guilty. She knew she had to get the guy’s sword away from him but she thinks she’d be pretty stressed too if she was in a strange town and someone took all her stuff away.

Killian pulls open the bag and digs through it the same way he had the last time, removing each item carefully and then setting them down on her desk, his coat draped carefully over her chair. He frowns as he gets to the bottom of it, and she remembers that he’d been missing something last time. It’s almost as though he’d expected it to be there now - or hoped. 

He proceeds to pull his shirt off over his head, making her gape at him, first in surprise and then in shock at the red and purple smudges that paint his ribs from chest to waist, the hints of more she can see on his back and arms. It’s like he’s more bruise than skin and she wonders how he’s even standing right now let alone changing into the black, gauzy shirt he retrieved from the bag. He reaches for the waist of his sweats and pauses, giving her a pointed look and Emma realises she’s been staring, turning quickly away so he can change.

It doesn’t take him long considering how many layers she knows he had on when she found him and she peeks over her shoulder when she hears the sound of his sword being sheathed, making sure he’s decent. 

“That’s better.” He looks at her, and she’s biting her lip hard. “What?”

“I’m avoiding asking questions…”

“But?”

“You said you had things we needed in there. Kind of looks like you just wanted a wardrobe change.” 

Killian gives her a small, sarcastic look before reaching into an inside pocket of his jacket she hadn’t found last time, pulling out a complicated-looking, gold device and setting it down on the desk between them. 

“This will guide us to where we need to go,” he assures her, reaching into the same pocket again, this time pulling out a flask and smiling at it. He yanks the cork out with his teeth and takes a long drag of whatever’s inside. 

Emma raises her brows at him. “And that helps how?” 

He shrugs. “It’s been a trying few days. And my ribs hurt something bloody awful.” 

The image of his bruises flashes in her mind again, as well as the bloody marks on his face when she’d found him. Like he jumped off a roof, the paramedic had said. And he’s been running around like that for days. Emma reaches into the drawer of her desk, rummaging around until she finds the bottle of extra-strength Tylenol she keeps in there for Regina-induced headaches. It might not help much, but it’s something.  

“Here, take some of these.”

“What are they?” he asks warily. 

“It’s medicine. It won’t take the pain away completely but it’ll help a little.” She doesn’t expect a thank you and she doesn’t get one but she’s honestly surprised that he takes them, swallowing a couple with his flask. He must be in even more pain than she realised if he’s setting aside his distrust of her. 

“Now what?” she asks. They’ve got his things, they’ve got his little coffee cup fairy, that must mean they can go now, right? It has to. 

“Now, we need a ship.” 

“A ship? I don’t have a ship, Killian.” She thinks of the harbour, the closest thing she can think of is Leroy’s little fishing boat. 

“Then we’ll just have to commandeer one.”

“Can’t we just take my car?”

“There aren’t any roads to Neverland.” 

Of course there aren’t. She wants to yank her hair out at this insane fantasy of his. But then she realises… “It’s an island isn’t it?” She remembers the island from the movie when she was a kid. What if this place he came from was an actual freaking island somewhere off the coast? What if that’s why they can’t find Henry, because someone took him across the water on a boat while they were searching the roads and the forest? Killian only nods. “We can’t just steal a boat.” 

His smirk is almost amused. “Who’s going to arrest us? You? You’re the Sheriff are you not?” 

He has a point but, “Yeah and I’d like to keep that job.” 

“More than you want your son back?” His words are harsh, no more amusement or mocking left and she understands his message. If she wants to save Henry she’s going to have to do a lot of things she doesn’t want to do. And she’s going to have to trust him. Emma picks up her holster and her gun, secures both firmly at her side.

“I know where we can get one.” They’re coming back. She’ll bring it back. It’s borrowing.

Killian nods, pocketing his flask and the instrument, tucking the coffee cup into the crook of his arm. “Then we’ve only one more stop to make.” 

“Where’s that?” 

“The Crocodile’s. He has something of mine.” 

Crocodile. The word sends a shiver through her. “He’s here?” But Killian’s already heading out the door. She hurries after him, grabbing at his arm to stop him but he doesn’t listen. “Wait.” She’s ignored, his walk purposeful, his sights set now. “Killian. He almost killed you.” 

He doesn’t care. “I wasn’t ready for him last time. Now I know his tricks, and it’ll be the end of him - at last.” 

She tries to argue with him, that nothing can be worth facing someone who left him for dead, not now, not when he’s injured. But he won’t be deterred, her words rolling off him like water until he finally stops. For a second she thinks it’s because she’s managed to get through to him, but then she notices where they are and all the pieces start to fit together. The alley, the broken window, the shattered display case. 

“Gold?” she asks but it’s not really a question. “Gold is the Crocodile?” He doesn’t answer, only glares at the sign over the pawn shop, fist clenching at his side, and steps forward.

“Killian, stop.” He ignores her again and she places herself between him and the shop, holding him back with her hands on his arms and she thinks the only reason he doesn’t push her away is that he can’t without hurting himself. “Please,” she begs and he finally looks at her.

“Why?”

“Because I need you alive!” He hesitates. “You’re my only shot at saving Henry. And Gold almost killed you once. Who’s to stop him from finishing the job this time? Please, just… wait. Until after we get my son back.” 

He takes a slow breath, actually seeming to be listening to her, and then casts a glance towards the alley where she found him. “Distract him.” 

“What are you going to do?”

“Retrieve what’s mine.” 

“Killian…”

“I won’t kill him. Not yet. But I’m not leaving without what he took.” 

He’s taken off down the alley before she can stop him, before she can reason with him, and Emma stands dumbly in the middle of the sidewalk for a minute, wondering if she’s just lost her chance at saving her kid. 

She looks towards the shop, blood running cold at the thought of going inside. Gold. Gold is the Crocodile. He tried to kill someone and then acted like nothing had happened the next day. He took something from Killian. Her breath catches. He also took someone. She knew the pawnbroker was shady but she didn’t think he was a killer. You’ll owe me a favour. The deal had seemed so harmless when she’d made it. She should have known better than to underestimate him. 

The bell rings above her head when she opens the door. Gold is standing at the counter as always, head bent over a stack of papers and books. At first she thinks they’re records but when he looks up and sees her, he shuts them quickly, tugging a large ledger overtop of whatever he was working on. 

“Miss Swan,” he greets, smile less polite than usual and she knows she’s an unwanted visitor. “How can I help you?”

“Henry’s missing.” It’s the first thing that pops into her mind, the first words out of her mouth. 

“I’m aware; the Mayor was already here and I told her everything I know. I wasn’t much help, I’m afraid.” 

Emma remembers he and Regina’s conversation earlier, the argument she’d witnessed and she knows he’s lying already. He clearly knew enough for her to demand his help, what she’s just learned from Killian only cements the fact that he knows much more about what happened to Henry, about the people involved, than he’s letting on. She should arrest him right now for assault. But she can’t do that without giving Killian away, without raising suspicions. 

“Yeah, well, Regina’s a lot of things but she’s not the Sheriff. So we’re gonna have to do this in a more official sense.” 

Gold sighs. “I’m really quite busy at the moment. And, like I said, I’ve already told the Mayor -”

“I know it must be frustrating, having me come here to your place of work. We can do this down at the sheriff’s station, if you’d rather.” Emma doesn’t try to hide the thin attempt at intimidation and he narrows his eyes at her. “There’s a lot of people out there though and it’s a bit of a walk. Wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea…” 

“Here will be fine,” he allows with a small glare. But I really am quite busy…”

“I’ll make it quick.” She doesn’t miss the way his elbow settles over the ledger book and the stack of papers hidden beneath it. 

“So, where were you last night?” 

“At home, asleep.” 

“Can anyone corroborate that?”

His brows shoot up. “Are you asking me if I have an alibi?” 

“Do you need one?” The question hangs heavily between them and for the first time, in the silence of an unanswered threat, she wonders if he could have had something to do with Henry’s disappearance, if he could be involved in whatever is happening in ‘Neverland’. 

“No,” he says finally. “But I have cameras outside my home should you feel the need to confirm my lack of nighttime escapades.” 

“Cameras?” she asks, emphasising the plural. “Why so much security?” 

His smirk crawls over his face, interested now, like they’re playing a game. “I have many enemies, Miss Swan. One doesn’t become successful without making a few along the way.” 

“And who are they?” she presses. This may have started as a distraction, but now she wonders if she should consider this a real interrogation, if he should be a real suspect… 

Before Gold can give whatever answer he had prepared, there’s a small noise from the back room and he stops, beginning to turn towards it. Emma panics, doing the first thing she can think of. The second his elbow is off the pile of papers and he’s looking away, she shoves them and a nearby snowglobe onto the floor. He whirls back around at the sound of breaking glass, looking over and cursing at the pages strewn about, some getting soaked in by the water from the globe. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Emma says quickly, kneeling down to start picking them up as he finds his cane. She uses the opportunity to snoop, trying to find anything important. None of it makes sense to her, drawings of maps, equations and letters in a language she doesn’t know. 

But one thing catches her eye as she hears Gold pick up his walking stick and take a step to make his way around the counter. A single word, signed in elegant script on the bottom corner of a page. Milah. The same name from Killian’s tattoo. Without looking at it, she snags the piece of paper and shoves it in her pocket before Gold can see and begins collecting the rest into a pile, shaking the water off some as best she can. 

“Leave it,” Gold says in frustration, struggling to kneel down next to her among the mess. “I think you’ve done more than enough.” 

“No really, I don’t mind -”

“But I do,” he cuts her off. “If you have any more questions, Sheriff, I’ll come by the station at another time.” 

“At least let me get you a broom,” she offers, realising he may keep it in the back room and her plan at distraction could completely backfire. She’s already headed that way before he can protest or get up to stop her.

Gold sighs. “It’s in the storage closet, next to the office,” he calls after her.

When she passes through the curtain, she half expects to find Killian there, rummaging through the various objects scattered around on desks and shelves. But the room is empty, no sign of anything having been distrubed and she can only hope that means he’s found what he was looking for and gone. She does a quick sweep of the space to be safe before grabbing the broom and heading back out to the front of the store. 

“Here,” she says, leaning it against the counter and offering another apology before telling him she’ll call if she needs him to come into the station and leaving before he can notice that she’s stolen one of his pages. It’s only once she’s outside and around the block that she risks reaching into her pocket and pulling the piece of paper out. 

It’s a drawing, a beautiful woman with dark hair, dressed in the same strange, outdated style of clothing as Killian. The paper’s old, worn and brittle, the crease having been folded and unfolded many times like the other she’d noticed in his pocket when she’d searched his things. But there’s not a smudge or a mark or a drop of anything on the page, nothing to marr the image, and Emma doesn’t have to wonder who this woman was to Killian. But she does wonder who she was to Gold. 

“What’s that?” Killian’s voice startles Emma from her thoughts as he joins her, arms empty still apart from the cup.

“I found this in his things. I think it might be yours,” she says, handing the drawing to him. He looks at it for a long moment before he takes it from her gently, expression wrapped in melancholy. 

“Aye,” Killian agrees, the word barely a whisper. And then, to her surprise, “Thank you.” He only lets himself stare at the image for another few seconds before folding it carefully and tucking it into yet another pocket she hadn’t found. She’s starting to think he’s wearing the Mary Poppins bag of coats. 

He clears his throat. “Come on, we have a ship to steal.” 

***

Stealing a boat turns out to be a lot easier than Emma expected. The harbour has literally zero security and while Killian scoffs at the selection of old speedboats and fishing boats, he ends up settling on one he says will make due for now. They board the sailboat - ‘A Cut Above’ - and Emma rolls her eyes realising they’re absolutely stealing Whale’s boat, but decides not to tell Killian. He’d probably take way too much joy in the fact. 

There’s no hot-wiring needed, no key, Killian simply using the sails and the wheel to get them out of the harbour and out to sea, shouting orders to her that she has to clarify over and over again. “Release the dock lines!” “The what?” “Take the starboard side.” “Which one’s that?” She didn’t think he could get more annoyed at her, like her any less, but she’s proving them both wrong. 

They’ve been sailing for hours and Emma is using all of her strength not to ask if they’re there yet, the nerves having finally caught up to her now that they’re really on their way to Henry. All the fear and the anticipation and the adrenaline hit her at once and she hasn’t been able to shake it since Storybrooke disappeared into the horizon a couple of hours ago. The sun is starting to set when she can’t keep it in anymore. 

“Are we close?”

“Aye,” is his only answer from where he’s manning the tiller - she knows that word now - the coffee cup resting carefully on the dash.

“How close?” 

He sighs. He’s been quiet since they left Storybrooke, since he was done giving orders. A mood’s fallen over him, dark and foreboding and heavy and she’d felt it seep into her. 

Wherever they’re going, he doesn’t want to be. He’d sworn he’d never go back and yet she’s dragged him to some place that left him scarred and angry and terrified. But despite all that, he’s taking her there. For Henry. She doesn’t think there’s any way she’ll ever be able to repay him for this. She doesn’t even know where she’d start. 

“We need to wait until dark.” 

“Why?”

“To have the stars to navigate by.” 

“Can’t you use a GPS?” 

“A what?” 

“Nevermind.” 

When it’s dark enough out, Killian pulls the device he’d shown her earlier from his pocket, holding it up to his eye and lining it up with something she doesn’t bother to ask about until he seems satisfied. That’s the wrong word. He’s found what he’s looking for, but he doesn’t look pleased with it, he looks… grim. 

“Take this.” He picks up the coffee cup and hands it to her. She takes it carefully even though it feels ridiculous. “Go stand by the main sail.” That’s the big one. “When I give the order, open it and send her into the sail.” What? Oh, right, the fairy. She’s pretty sure all that’s going to do is possibly get a few drops of coffee on the canvas and make Whale even more pissed off but whatever, finding Henry is more important. 

Killian’s turning the wheel, whirling the boat around and catching the wind, gaining speed, a surprising amount considering they’re not sailing with any motor. The navigation tool is raised again, double checking before he pulls something, another sail drops and their speed increases even more, the wind sending Emma’s hair whipping into her face until she can hardly see.

“Second star to the right and straight on till morning,” he mutters, the phrase quietly familiar, lost to the sound of the wind. She looks back at Killian; he’s pulling something from his pocket and her throat goes dry when she sees it. A hook. A hook that he clicks into place where his missing hand would be. Then he’s shouting “Now!”

Emma jumps then scrambles to take the lid off and makes a show of tossing the contents of the empty cup towards the main sail. There’s a second, then her stomach drops. The ship lurches up like they’ve hit a giant wave, like they’re about to crash down hard, too hard, and she falls back against the deck. The seconds that tick by feel like those right before the drop in a roller coaster, the heart hammering, anticipation building, panic inducing wait, and Emma can feel the blood rushing in her ears. 

But the fall never comes, only the weightless, suspended feeling, the jump before the plunge and she crawls over to the edge of the boat, grabs the rail to haul herself up and look out at what’s happening. Emma screams, the sea so far below them now, as she throws herself back onto the ground. Turning, she looks at Killian, heart racing, hoping for an explanation, but he only looks ahead, steering the ship towards the stars. 

“What the fuck?” she screams again, looking over the edge once more and seeing the faint outline of land and water growing smaller and smaller beneath them, and still, they’re climbing. “What the actual fuck?!” 

They’re flying. The ship is flying… just like in the story. This can’t be real, it can’t be real. And yet the stars grow closer, two shining bright directly ahead as they cut a path through the sky. She looks at the sail, caught by the faint shimmer that wasn’t there a moment ago, or at least that she couldn’t see. 

A small, shining light zips by her, circling her head and stopping in front of her face and for a second, Emma sees something in it, a woman, tiny and glowing and angry. No.

“How are you doing this?” Emma demands and Killian looks at her solemnly. 

“I told you there were things in this world beyond your understanding.” He watches her as she stares at what can only be a fairy, the small, winged woman flipping her off before shooting away towards the sky, disappearing into the stars. A grim smirk pulls at Killian’s lips when she turns shocked eyes on him. “Perhaps you do have some belief after all.” 

And she does. There’s no way not to. All the fantasies and insanity that she’d accused him of, that she’d argued against, everything Henry had sworn was true… It’s real. It’s all real.

*******

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"It took a little longer than I thought it should, but it worked!" said Neal, that huge smile still on his face.

"Pan put you under a Sleeping Curse," explained Snow with a soft smile. "Your father and I couldn't wake you. Neal did."

Emma blinked, feeling like her mind came to a screeching stop.

A terrifying stop.

No.

No.

It couldn't be.

Not…

Not Neal.

"He did?" she echoed blankly.

Emma swallowed. Hard.

True Love.

They were True Love?

"Because from the moment I saw him again I knew… I never stopped loving him."

She had to admit she meant her words to her parents earlier—she had loved Neal and she hadn't gotten over what happened with him. He wasn't just her first love…

He was the only person who had ever loved her.

Up until she came to Storybrooke, Neal was the only person who showed her love. And after he left, after he seemingly used her… the day he told her he loved her…

Realizing that he left her in an attempt to help her find her family, that he didn't want to leave her, that he did care for her…though not enough…

It was a whirlwind of utter confusion.

But…

But after everything, she'd given it plenty of thought every free moment in Neverland since Neal showed up.

And she'd made her decision.

Her words to Neal in the Echo Cave had been the truth, as it proved to be, and her feelings were not about to change.

Ever.

After what Neal did, there was no way she could trust or love him now. Hell, because of him, she could hardly trust or love anyone. A part of her probably always would love him, but…

She loved the person she thought he was, not the person he is.

Not the person who left her.

She didn't look at him now and remember the love and the comfort.

She looked at him and she remembered the years of pain.

She was tired of being in pain.

She had been planning to break the news to him when they returned to Storybrooke.

But…

They were True Love?

"My own daughter," said David suddenly, snapping Emma from her thoughts, "the product of True Love, found her own! I couldn't be happier." To Neal, he said, "Thank you for saving her."

Emma blinked, never having felt so disoriented in her life.

And she felt the very familiar urge to run.

But she quite literally had nowhere to go, trapped on this ship, but her eyes darted around as if looking for an escape. A knee-jerk reaction she hadn't felt since she was a kid in a new foster home.

But her eyes landed on Hook, hovering in the doorway behind the rest.

The look on his face stole her breath.

He wasn't looking at her; he was looking at Neal.

Emma has never seen a look of pure heartbreak before.

But it was right there. In his eyes.

Something in him broke.

And not a moment later, he was gone, turning and walking away.

Emma blinked.

But Neal grabbed her in another bear hug, startling her again, and her parents took turns for hugs of their own.

But her eyes stayed on the doorway where Hook disappeared.

It suddenly clicked.

That tingle on her lips.

That feeling she woke with, the one she knew she'd felt before, but couldn't place.

Something like wonder passed through her chest.

Her lips tilted a little, even as Neal pulled her into yet another unreciprocated embrace.

Because he didn't wake her.

And she knew who did.

It was the end of the day by the time Emma found Hook alone.

Everyone was beginning to get ready for bed, as Hook had said—of the few words he'd spoken all day—that they wouldn't be home until midday tomorrow.

Not long after she'd woken, Emma had broken through her daze enough to remember Henry. He'd been sleeping soundly in one of the cabins when she awoke. Emma spent hours at his bedside, reveling in the fact that he was safe. After he woke—giving her the biggest hug she's ever had—everything finally felt like things were calming down. They were on their way home. Finally.

And as things quieted down, Emma couldn't help thinking about this morning.

True Love's Kiss.

Emma was surprised it took her as long as it did to place that elusive feeling.

"Please. You couldn't handle it."

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it."

That kiss.

That damn kiss.

She hated to admit it, but she knew it the moment Hook's lips touched hers.

She couldn't handle it.

The moment they pulled away, she felt it.

That feeling.

Neal had been the first person to make Emma feel like she was worth something, but…

In that kiss with Hook…

Just through touch alone, she didn't just feel like she was worth something to him.

Somehow, she could feel she was worth everything to him.

That… that feeling…

It was something so strong and raw and pure…

She knew she was screwed.

Because that contentment she felt both then and again when she woke felt like it was worth everything to her.

How could one kiss convey all that?

"You and I. We understand each other."

Maybe their connection went far deeper than Emma had originally thought. Far deeper than just understanding.

She'd known since the beanstalk that they were similar.

And she'd known since they'd met that he had a… level… of… attractiveness…

But that kiss?

"It was what the kiss exposed."

His words couldn't have described how it felt any better for her as well—that kiss exposed just as much for her as it did for him.

The curiosity she's always had for Hook was now a full-blown feeling for him.

And the moment she realized it, in the middle of that passionate moment, his jacket in her hands, his fingers in her hair…

She couldn't linger for a second.

"That was…"

"A one-time thing."

Little did he know, she wasn't telling him.

Because, hell, she hadn't even felt such a connection with Neal, back when things were great with the two of them.

True Love's Kiss.

That exact feeling she had when they'd kissed was lingering on her lips the moment she woke.

It was Hook.

She knew it was.

Over the course of the day, Emma had gathered that Neal tried to kiss her awake more than once with no success. But when he'd left and come back, it they'd assumed it was only delayed.

Somehow, Hook must have kissed her when Neal left the room.

The fact that Hook had even tried to kiss her awake, let alone been successful, touched her in a way words couldn't describe.

And the theory that it was in fact Hook became more and more sure as the day went on, just something that felt so right in her chest.

She wanted to get a chance to talk to him, confirm her theory for sure.

Yet, Hook had been either fixed at the helm among the others on deck or he's been a ghost, convincing Emma the Jolly had some secret passageways that only he knew.

He was clearly avoiding her, and though Emma could think on more than one occasion in the past that she'd wished for him to get lost, she was quickly finding that she hated not having him around.

She hadn't even gotten a chance to be alone herself. Neal had been practically glued to her damn side.

All day long, Neal had been telling Henry about all the things they were going to do—the three of them—as a family. Emma had let it wash over her, hadn't commented on any of his plans for them, since, she mused with irritation, he hasn't asked her anything. Ever since she'd woken, it seemed that he thought they were suddenly… together again.

But even if Neal had woken her with True Love's Kiss, Emma knew her feelings wouldn't change at all.

She simply couldn't fall back in love with someone who hurt her so deeply, and that was that.

He didn't deserve a third chance, and barely deserved the second.

He simply didn't deserve her.

Emma let out a breath. She'd managed to tell Neal that she needed some air, so she walked up the stairs to the deck.

And there at the helm, flask in hand, standing alone in the moonlight was Hook.

He was staring in the distance at nothing in particular, the muscle in his jaw working furiously.

And at the sight of him, Emma suddenly realized…

She wanted it to be him.

Regardless of the fear that crept up in her chest at the notion of it…

It was clear to her now, no matter how much she tried to deny it.

She simply wanted him.

A little flutter of fear—fear of what, she wasn't entirely sure anymore—in her stomach, Emma took a breath, climbing the rest of the stairs.

He didn't notice her.

He looked utterly lost in thought, and Emma unfortunately knew she was most likely at the center of them.

She sighed, and said softly, "Hey."

He jumped a little, startled at the sound of her voice, and Emma's brows rose. She didn't often catch him by surprise. He was either that deeply lost in thought, or buzzed.

Or both.

He snapped his head around, seeing her, and went rigid. He attempted to regain his composure, and Emma couldn't remember ever catching him so off guard before. "Swan?" he said blankly. "Shouldn't you be… resting?" he tried.

"I've had my fair share," she said dryly. The air suddenly felt as if it grew tense in their silence, so Emma walked to look over the side of the ship, at the clouds passing, though it didn't ease the feeling. She waited a little, wondering if he would tell her now that they were alone.

But he remained silent.

"I haven't seen much of you today," said Emma carefully, wondering just how to bring up the topic. When he didn't say anything, Emma turned to him, and asked, "Why aren't you sleeping?"

He gestured to the wheel with his hook. "Someone's got to keep an eye on her."

Emma caught the half-lie in his eyes, but she let it go.

She hm'd, turning back to the clouds, feeling that tension ebb in the air between them.

"I'm glad you're all right, Emma," she heard him say quietly.

She smiled a little. "Me, too," she said honestly.

"Baelfire…"

Emma's chest squeezed a little.

He said it like it physically hurt him.

Hook cleared his throat a little. "He is a lucky man."

Emma watched him carefully.

He wasn't looking at her.

That muscle still worked furiously in his jaw.

The heartbreak from earlier was still in his eyes, deeper than the ocean below them.

She turned back to the clouds.

A smile tugged at her lips.

It was him.

He kissed her.

And from the clear torture in his face, he wasn't about to say a damn thing about it.

"I'm always a gentleman."

Perhaps he was.

For some reason, her usual fear, her walls, weren't stopping her from saying her next words.

Somehow, knowing what she knew, True Love's Kiss and all, made her a little less afraid.

"So, you weren't going to tell me, then," she said, words shaped by her smile, still tilting her lips.

She turned to look at him.

The look of shock on his face was almost comical.

He looked like a deer in headlights. She watched him, and he gathered the semblance of composure. "What?" he managed.

He'd heard her, and every unsaid word.

And he still didn't want to tell her?

Her burning curiosity overrode any ounce of fear that should have stopped her from saying, "Who woke me." The clarification was unnecessary; he knew. But he was still frozen where he stood, and he almost looked lost.

That heartbroken look on his face mixed with the lost one, making him look so horribly young Emma felt a painful tug in her chest.

She took a step toward him. Softly, she said, "I know it was you."

His eyes widened a little. The truth Emma had been looking for was right there in them.

And as much as it should have scared her, it didn't.

"I…" He breathed. "You… how?"

His voice was so small.

It was so different to hear from him.

He was waiting for her response, and Emma suddenly realized she needed to explain how she knew. Which… was a bit more vulnerable than she cared to share. Though, the fact that he woke her told them both the most vulnerable secrets of one another. It was already out there, and they both knew it now. Evidently he loved her and she loved him, with the purest form of love in existence. Yet, they were only just beginning to explore what their connection was. It felt as if they'd been given a message from the future about something that hasn't happened yet. It felt both reassuring and like a surprise had been spoiled.

But when love was such a terrifying thing, Emma would take the reassurance any day.

However, she couldn't help shifting with shyness that rose color to her cheeks, averting her gaze a little as she stumbled through, "I didn't see anyone when I woke up, but I just… I had this… feeling." She hesitated, her now-flimsy walls barely able to hold back her next words. But she let them out anyway. "I had the same feeling when we…"

She didn't say it.

But again, he heard it.

A spark of hope cut through the brokenness in his eyes.

He looked utterly speechless.

Emma smiled a little, definitely feeling the vulnerability now. She cleared her throat a little. "I just knew," she concluded. Looking back up at him, she met his eyes. And asking the question she's been asking herself all day, she asked, "The only thing I don't know… is why you didn't say anything."

His eyes found the floorboards. The hope was dashed, the sadness deepening all too much. Like broken glass was shattered all over again. "Emma," he said heavily, painfully. "You deserve more than me, love."

Emma released the breath she didn't know she was holding.

Because a part of her—a very tiny, fragile part—was afraid that he didn't tell her because he didn't want it to be true.

Now that heartbroken look made so much sense.

He found out that he was her True Love, and he was going to keep it to himself?

Let her think she was in love with another man?

Emma knew that Hook was interested in her, and after that first kiss, more than interested. But now? For him to find out that the woman he was vying for not only had the potential to love him back, but actually did?

In the highest, deepest, purest possible way?

And he still kept it to himself?

He was willing to sacrifice his own happiness to ensure hers?

No one, no one, has ever done that for her.

It took Emma a moment to find her voice.

"And you thought Neal could give me that?" she said with a raised brow, when she found her voice.

Hook lifted his eyes back to hers, and it looked like it took his every effort to do so. He swallowed. "He's the father to your son," he said hollowly. "He… loves you."

That lit a fuse in her that's been building for quite some time, and Emma muttered, "He also set me up for his crime and left me to go to jail for him. Right after he knocked me up." she huffed. "Granted, he didn't know, but he's still not exactly hero material. It's not like he ever cared to come back to see if I was okay," she said heatedly, the anger and hurt building. She's pushed it down every time it rose up after Neal had come back into her life, and it seemed so much less pertinent when she'd thought Neal was dead. But now that he was back and being as self-involved as ever… She shook herself, finishing, "He can't exactly promise to never stop fighting for me when he's already broken it several times over."

If Hook's shock had looked comical earlier it was nothing compared to his face now.

Her history with Neal certainly was the last thing he expected to hear.

But as his shock cleared, Emma saw that the hope from before had returned.

As tiny a spec as a star in the sky.

Emma's brows kneaded. "Did you think I wanted it to be Neal?"

He was silent, but it was answer enough.

Emma let out a breath. She has never met anyone with lower self-worth than she had herself, but Hook tipped the scales and broke them.

It suddenly hurt to know how little he thought of himself.

He saved her life.

Emma suddenly had an urge her fear usually fought to the death, but she acquiesced. And she stepped even closer to him, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Even that touch alone sent a flutter in her stomach and seemed to affect him all the same. He looked at her in awe.

"Thank you, Killian," she whispered.

A different kind of shock colored his eyes.

She'd never called him by name before.

Then, he smiled, and Emma has never seen anything more beautiful.

Emma smiled right back, feeling a little shyness touch it again. Even though magic had unveiled their fate before their lives unraveled it, she didn't want that kind of a change.

Not… yet.

But when they were home…

Maybe it was time to try something new.

Emma turned to head back below deck, but paused, turning back toward him.

He was still looking at her, something soft in his face.

It was the first time she's ever seen him look happy.

"I'm glad it was you," she said quietly.

Shock and joy brightened his eyes in the moonlight, and he smiled, his response in the expression alone.

That certainly made two of them.

Emma still had a faint smile on her face as she walked back below deck.

It was Hook.

The confirmation came with a rush of emotions that settled on joy.

After checking on Henry who was sleeping in Hook's bed, Regina sleeping on the floor next to him since none of them were letting him out of their sight for the next, well, ever, Emma decided Sleeping Curse or not, she was going to try to get some sleep.

Emma opened the door to the cabin. The cabin was empty except for Neal, who was scrutinizing one of the beds.

He turned when he saw her, smiling, "Ems!" He gestures to the bed. "They're a lot smaller than I remember them, though I guess I was when I last slept on 'em." It took Emma a moment to remember that he had spent time on the ship before. "It'll be a tight fit, but all the cozier, you know?"

Emma blinked. "What?"

He looked at her like he didn't understand what was wrong with his insinuation that was wrong in every single way. "Purely a sleeping arrangement," he said. "I mean, unless you… wanted…"

"No!" snapped Emma, brows narrowing at the very idea.

He laughed a little, hands coming up in a mock-surrender. "Woah, okay, easy. It was mostly a joke."

"Considering that the last time you slept with me you knocked me up," growled Emma before she could stop herself, "it damn well is a joke."

He looked stunned. "What? I—I kinda thought we were past that…" he mumbled, rubbing at the scruff on his chin.

"You—" Hot rage from too much pent-up anger and hurt was beginning to overflow. Emma took a breath, trying to steady herself. They were almost home. If she could just make it through the night…

"Emma," came Neal's voice, cutting through her attempt at calm. "You seem kinda moody. Maybe you should get some rest, or something." He again gestured to the bed, with the same intention of crawling right in after her.

Emma breathed out slowly, trying to keep the lid on her anger. "Yeah. Sleep sounds good. But I'll sleep by myself, if you don't mind."

Now his brows kneaded, something between puzzlement and frustration. "Emma, I don't get it," he said, voice strangled with confusion. "You love me, I love you, the damn curse proved it—what's the problem?"

"The problem is I don't love you, Neal!" growled Emma, breaking down her self-control. "Maybe I did once, but… but I am not in love with you, so you just need to—"

"Emma," said Neal just as heatedly, "I know you're not from a world of magic, but when you need True Love's Kiss to break a curse, and a kiss wakes you, that person is your True Love!"

"Well you didn't wake me, Hook did!"

Neal froze.

The moment his name left her lips, so did Emma.

So much for waiting until they were home.

"What?" he breathed.

Emma huffed out an angry breath. "When your kiss didn't work, Hook tried. And then I woke up. Do the math."

Neal went rigid for a moment, his mind seeming to work furiously. Perhaps putting together the delay between his kiss and her waking.

Anger touched his own features. "I'm gonna kill him."

Emma's expression went from angry to bewildered. "Are you kidding me?"

"Are you?" snapped Neal. "He takes my mother from me and then he takes you?"

"Hook didn't take either of us," ground out Emma.

But Neal steamrolled ahead. "He and Pan probably worked together to make a Sleeping Curse to trick you into—"

"Pan hates him!" growled Emma. "Why the hell would he do that?"

Neal's face reddened with a losing argument. He shut his eyes, like he was attempting to hold down his temper, but it was a rope that already slipped from his grasp. "You love him?" he managed. "Hook?"

"I—" Emma swallowed. "I… I don't know," she stammered, "we haven't really known each other that long, we we just starting to—" She shook herself. "I don't need to explain myself to you. And you just said that if magic says you're True Love, you're True Love."

"He's a pirate, Emma!" hissed Neal. "He's a murderer and a jackass and he only cares about himself! He—"

"Well that selfish jackass didn't even tell me he was the one who kissed me until I asked him!"

"He—" Neal blinked. "What?"

"He thought I wanted it to be you," said Emma lowly, words heavy with anger. "So he was set to take the secret to his grave. I can see how selfish that is."

Neal looked speechless. "I—Emm—"

She took a step toward him, anger fueling her entire being. "And you know what, Neal? Even if it was you, even if you did wake me, I wouldn't be with you! You were the first and the only person who ever cared about me, who treated me like maybe I wasn't an accident, maybe I wasn't worthless, and you made me feel like I could be wanted." The emotions were rushing out like water through a bursted dam and she couldn't have stopped them if she tried. "You told me you loved me and you let me go to jail for you! You left me alone!" Her voice choked on the last word, all of the feelings rushing back at once. Neal opened his mouth but she steamrolled ahead. "I don't care what your reasons were! I went to jail thinking you had used me that whole time. I went to jail for you thinking you didn't give a damn about me! I had your baby handcuffed to a bed! And you never even bothered to see if I was okay!" She took another step toward him, and his back hit post of the bed. "August told me that he told you when I was in Storybrooke and you didn't even bother to see if I was okay then! You rubbed your fiancé in my face and you only told me you loved me after you found out she was batshit crazy! When I found you in New York you didn't apologize to me once! You fricken laughed!" Tears were streaming down her face now, raw hurt and anger ripping through each word. "You were too obsessed with yourself and how your father left you and your father hurt you and you were so busy thinking about yourself that you didn't even realize you were just like him!" He flinched, but Emma's eyes only narrowed. "So you better look in a damn mirror before you call Killian selfish because the only jackass I see here is you."

Neal was frozen, staring at her in shock.

She must have finally found a way to shut him up, because he didn't even bother trying to find words to say.

Emma turned sharply on her heel to leave, only to freeze, for her parents were standing in the doorway, faces just as shocked as Neal's, but just as angry as Emma's.

Emma didn't stop to hear anything they had to say if they were planning on it, so she just walked past them, heading for the first quiet room she could find to cry herself into oblivion.

However, she didn't miss the distinct smack and thud coming from the cabin she just left, and even managed a little tilt of her lips at what was clearly her father letting out his own anger with Neal in the best way he knew how.

She knew she had forgotten to do something.

-.-

David shook out his fist, anger boiling under his skin.

Neal laid sprawled on the floor, and the blue-black bruising was already forming over his eye.

"Prison?" he breathed, turning to Snow in bewildered dismay. "Prison? Emma was in prison?" he hissed, trying to imagine his little girl, his princess, locked behind prison bars. "Did you know?"

Snow's face had gone paler than her usual. "I… She mentioned it in passing, but she didn't want to… elaborate," she said, her eyes narrowing at Neal, still on the ground where David's punch left him.

"She had Henry there?" David's voice took on a higher pitch, anger consuming him.

"She… she didn't tell me any of that," whispered Snow, eyes misty with tears.

But David's chest tightened. "It doesn't matter," he muttered, anger only with himself. "We don't know because we didn't ask."

But shaking himself, because they'll have to process that—and fix that—later.

There was something else that was suddenly a concern that felt almost as pressing.

Hook.

Hook.

Not only did he kiss his daughter—twice now—but he woke her?

A new emotion surged, and David felt his instincts pull him harshly out of the room before he could think twice.

Just as he reached the hallway, footsteps were hurrying down the steps.

"What the bloody hell is going on down h—" began Hook, face more exasperated than anything.

"You woke Emma?!" demanded David, striding toward him, fists clenched.

The exasperation in Hook's face snapped to sudden shock, as he froze on the last step.

He visibly swallowed.

And it was the first time David has ever seen the pirate look intimidated.

"I…." began Hook, standing stock-still, suddenly looking years younger, like a child caught doing something they shouldn't be.

But a door opened, and Emma rushed out, standing before Hook, blocking him from David. Reluctantly, David stopped.

"David," said Emma quickly, almost warningly.

But David just looked at Hook, his hard gaze meeting Hook's uncertain one. "You kissed her awake?" he demanded.

A muscle twitched in Hook's jaw. His eyes met the floor, before meeting David's again. "I…" he trailed off.

But it was true; he had.

Hook—notorious Captain Hook, thorn-in-his-side Captain Hook—woke his daughter.

Was his daughter’s True Love.

David simply stared at him, trying to wrap his head around it.

Hook took David’s silence as a bad sign. Swallowing, he said, “I… I didn’t think—“

But David didn’t let him finish, and cut him off, saying with firm sincerity, "Thank you."

Hook froze once again

Emma and Hook suddenly had a look of shock so identical it was almost humorous.

David took a step forward, and Emma stepped aside. He extended his hand to Hook, gesturing for him to take it.

Hesitating, Hook took it.

That uncertain gaze in the pirate's eyes was even more surprised now.

"You saved her." said David, pulling back his hand.

It was true.

He had.

If he hadn't….

David didn't even want to consider it.

"Emma told us you didn't even tell her," said David seriously. At that, Hook's fingers scratched behind his ear, his eyes finding the floorboards.

And he suddenly looked nothing like the man who had presented himself to them weeks ago.

He looked nothing like the ruthless pirate they met, or even the man on a quest to win Emma's heart, caring only about himself, and what he wanted.

The fact that Hook had let Emma, let all of them believe that Neal had woken her…

That wasn't the act of a selfish pirate.

That was the act of an honorable man.

To have learned that the woman he cared for loved him back, with True Love, no less, and let her walk into another man's arms?

David didn't even know if he could have done such a thing for Snow.

David cleared his throat a little, feeling the heat of his initial reaction die down. Hook looked at him as David said, "I was wrong about you." said David quietly, and Hook's eyes lit with so much surprise that David was surprised the man's jaw didn't hit the floor.

For he was wrong about Hook.

He treated Hook like vermin, like the scum of the world.

And he, as well as Snow, had treated Neal like a saint.

Neal had left Emma to rot in jail, in his place, when she was practically still a child.

And Hook…

Hook had done nothing except protect Emma, and save their lives turn after turn.

Hook's own throat cleared, and he said, "David, you don't have to—"

"Yeah, I do." said David. He looked from Emma's little smile, back to Hook. "And if Emma and you are..." he couldn't exactly say it, but he grinned a little anyway. "Well, I think I can get on board with that." Then, with a touch of that protective anger he'd punched Neal with earlier, he narrowed his eyes a little at Hook in seriousness, and said, "But True Love or not… don't hurt my daughter."

Emma didn't have a father to protect her before, and he would feel the guilt for that for the rest of his life. However, David didn't truly believe Hook would, or was even capable, of hurting Emma. But he had to say it, in light of what he had just learned about Emma and Neal.

No one would ever hurt his daughter again; David would make sure of that.

And he had quite the idea that the man standing before him would make sure of it just the same.

Hook met him back with a gaze just as serious. He looked first to Emma, then back to David, to say, "I'd die first."

A little blush touched Emma's cheeks, something warm in her eyes.

David held Hook's gaze, and he didn't need Emma's superpower to know he was telling the truth. David smiled.

David felt Snow step up beside him. She gave Hook a soft look. "You fought for your first love for two hundred years," she said, a little pain reflecting in Hook's eyes. Snow looked from David, back to Hook, and said, "After seeing how much you cared for her… I think our little girl is more than lucky to have you."

Hook suddenly looked like he'd been given an absolutely precious gift.

And David smiled, because so had they.

Emma found herself climbing back on deck a while after the… excitement of the evening.

Everyone had more or less retired to a cot in the cabins, but she simply refused to be so close to Neal.

Or, she simply wanted to be around someone else.

She let herself believe it was the first, and climbed up the rest of the stairs.

Emma found Hook—Killian—exactly where she left him.

He heard her footsteps this time. When he saw her, a little pleased surprise jumped into his eyes, and he gave her a soft smile. "Swan."

Emma smiled just as softly, and Hook's eyes lit up brighter than the moon at the sight of it.

She's noticed that.

How her smile elicits one from him.

It suddenly made her want to smile more.

He made her want to smile more.

"To what do I owe the honor?" he asked, a smile tilting his lips.

Emma just smiled, and kept walking toward him, watching the question develop in his eyes.

And without warning, she grabbed his coat, just like she did the first time, and she kissed him.

She could feel his surprise, but it only lasted a moment.

He kissed her back, matching the tenderness, mirroring her emotion.

It felt like relief, it felt like safety, it felt right.

That warmth that his kiss brought her both times their lips had touched returned, wrapping her in an embrace just as securely, just as tightly as his arms did.

They pulled away, and Emma found herself staring into surprised, warm blue, like sunlight reflecting off ocean waves.

At the question in his eyes, Emma said, "I didn't get to enjoy the last kiss." And for whatever reason, the shyness that should have tingled inside her, didn't.

Killian smiled. "Neither did I."

Emma smiled.

Slowly, gently, he kissed her this time, something soft and precious, his hand in her hair, his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. And at his every touch, she felt loved.

Emma broke the kiss, looking back into his eyes, the emotion bringing forth some of her fear. "Are you going to… to stay in Storybrooke when we get back?" She didn't intend for the words to sound as unsure as her heart felt.

Killian smiled, easing Emma's every fear. "I will go wherever you wish, love." A little color touched his cheeks in the moonlight, as they both caught the epithet in a much different context. But he smiled, embracing it, and whispered, "I am yours." Emma felt something so touched at the words. Killian brushed a thumb over her cheek. "I have loved you long before magic proved it."

Absolute warmth filled her chest.

She has never, not once, felt more wanted than she did right here, right now.

Emma opened her mouth, feeling the urge to say it back, feeling the same, but familiar fear tugged at her.

Before she had the chance, Killian said, "Don't." Emma looked at him, puzzled, but he just smiled, it fading a little when it said, "After what Baelfire did to you…" Emma felt pain tug at her. "Don't say anything you aren't ready to," said Killian. "I'm a patient man, and I'm not going anywhere. So—"

Emma cut him off with a kiss.

Her eyes shut, and she melted into him, trying to convey every word she couldn't say, everything she couldn't tell him into the kiss alone.

This morning, his kiss told her everything they both needed to know.

And from the brilliant smile he gave her when she pulled away, hers did just the same.

Fin :)

Ao3 link

A One Time Thing?

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he said, a sultry smirk on his face and popping the T.

Emma inhaled sharply at the way his voice dropped into a sexy croon, wrapping itself around every syllable the way she wished he would wrap around her. He made no move toward her, however, other than to hold her gaze, always letting her lead, his own eyes hooded, his cheeks and lips flushed red.

It only took a moment for her to make her decision. Grabbing the collar of that damn coat he always wore- how he didn’t melt in the Neverland heat with that blasted thing on, she’d never know- she hauled him to her and captured his lips with her own.

His stunned surprise melted as she released one side of the collar to wrap her hand around his neck, holding him to her. Her fingers buried themselves into the softness of his hair as his own hand tentatively brushed her long golden strands. The moist heat of his mouth tasted of rum with notes of leather, the sea, and sweat as their tongues tangled.

Oh, god.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no, no, noooo.

Oh, yesss…

Killian’s own thoughts were barely coherent, simply losing himself in the moment. Oh, yesss… Oh, Swan… gods above, below, and all the realms between. Emma Swan, the gorgeous and bloody brilliant woman he’d follow to the ends of the earth, and had, was in his arms and she seemed determined to kill him with the way she fully possessed his mouth and held on to him as if she was drowning and he was her savior instead of the other way around. He pulled her closer into him, his hooked appendage wrapping around her waist and drawing her into where he was quickly hardening. She wasn’t relaxing her grip on his collar, her movements jerky and desperate, so he slowed his own movements down, determined to enjoy this brief interlude as much as possible in this hellscape.

Emma grabbed his collar again, her shoulders rising as she sucked in some desperately needed air before diving back in. His hook circled behind her and pushed her hips into his own, drawing a positively obscene moan from her mouth. His hard length was hitting her just right and it was all she could do to keep from grinding against him.

Her kiss grew more desperate, breathing him in as he tried to slow the pace down, his tongue caressing hers rather than dueling.

No, no, NO!!

This was not happening. She couldn’t allow it. He may be helping them find her son, he may have saved David’s life, but she would not fool herself into believing this meant anything. This was nothing more than a flirtation for him. She’d been burned before and she’d be damned if she let it happen again. But god, she really wanted him...

She grabbed his collar tighter as their lips barely parted. Killian couldn’t open his eyes yet, but their heavy breaths mingled in the space between them. Once he forced his eyes at least partially open, he couldn’t look away from her red swollen lips and heaving chest.

“That was…”

The words were barely a whisper against her lips. If she’d been any further away, she probably would have missed them. Their mouths were only millimeters apart, his nose brushing hers in the perfect position to dive back in, to hell with the consequences. But Emma couldn’t let that happen. She had to get away. She had to put some space between them.

“A one time thing,” she murmured into the moist air between them before releasing him and taking a small step back. In an instant, Killian’s gaze hardened.

“We’ll see about that, darling,” he all but growled, catching Emma off guard. He’d never been that forceful with her before, always letting her set the pace in their little dance. Sure, it didn’t stop him from flirting, but with her declaration, she would have expected him to back off, not assert himself like that.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Emma.” The blue of his eyes was stormy now, mixed with equal parts arousal and determination. She couldn’t look away. “My brother was fond of saying that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. So I intend to fight for you, love. Fight for this that’s between us.”

Emma held his unflinching gaze, her mouth slightly open. Her eyes darted between his several times, looking for any hint of a lie, he surmised, not that she’d find one. He meant every word. Killian waited for her to do something, the tension stretching between them impossibly long, although it was probably only a few seconds. Simply informing her of his intentions was quite the risk, and he refused to push her any further.

He was serious. He was really serious. She’d never had anyone fight for her in her entire life and here was this pirate, after only knowing her for a few weeks, declaring that he would fight for her. That she was worth fighting for. Emma took a deep breath and shut her mouth with a snap. The walls around her heart that were threatening to fall to rubble in the face of his declaration slammed back into place as she determined her next course of action. She would wreck him before he could wreck her.

She moved back into his space and grabbed his collar again, picking right back up where they left off. He was ready for her this time, his mouth already opened to her, immediately taking charge of the kiss. His tongue deftly stroked hers as he walked her back until she collided with a tree. He bent down, his lips never leaving hers and lifted her legs until she could wrap them around his waist before rutting into her.

Emma threw her head back, nearly knocking herself senseless with the force of it hitting the tree, and lost herself to his ministrations. His lips trailed fire down the skin of her neck before he found her pulse point and sucked hard. Shivers ran down her spine and coupled with the thrusts of his hips exactly where she needed him, she knew that her orgasm was going to be cataclysmic. She grabbed his face and brought his lips back to hers with a moan that she could barely recognize as her own.

“Killian, please,” she begged.

“Please what, darling,” he murmured against her lips before taking them again so she couldn’t answer even if she wanted to.

Every part of her was on fire and she needed him desperately. Everything outside of his lips, hand, and tongue faded into nothing. Her fingers found the opening in his shirt and buried themselves in the soft hair there while her other hand gripped his bicep like a life-preserver. And that metaphor probably wasn’t too far off the mark. Emma felt like she was drowning- drowning in pleasure, drowning in desire, drowning in the overwhelming feelings he was provoking in her- and he was her only salvation. There would be no wrecking tonight. Or at least, she wouldn’t be the one doing the wrecking.

He moved against her with the sensuality of a Lothario, but with the care and attention of a passionate lover. His hand was against the bare skin of her torso, sending tremors of delight down her spine as he cupped her breast, flicking her nipple through the fabric of her bra. The tension coiled in her belly, her climax just out of reach, as a keening whimper escaped her lips only to be swallowed by his kiss. He released her breast, his hook still under her ass, holding her firmly against the tree and worked his hand down the front of her pants.

He broke the kiss and stared into her tumultuous green gaze. The undergarments she wore were sopping wet, but he had to make sure she wanted this. Wanted him.

“What do you want, darling?”

Her lips parted on a rough exhale, swollen and red from his kisses. “You,” she whispered. “I want you, Killian.”

He never thought he’d be blessed enough to hear the sound of his given name fall from the lips of his savior and hearing it now nearly made him drop her. He surged forward, claiming her lips once again.

“You have me, Emma,” he whispered into her skin. He lowered her feet to the ground and knelt before her, unfastening the button on her pants and lowering the zipper. Before he could even get them off, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the fabric covering her most intimate place, inhaling deeply. “You smell divine, love.”

He pulled her pants and underwear down and helped her step out of them, before burying his nose into the curls at the apex of her thighs. Tongueing at her hidden nub, he smiled as he threw one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her folds to him. He dived into the decadence before him, his own moans as he pleasured her nearly as loud as her own. It took only moments before her climax crashed over her and flowed over his tongue. He swallowed down all she had for him, bringing her down gently before rising and tenderly kissing her. His hand caressed her cheek as he waited for her to open her eyes.

“You alright there, Swan?” he asked gently when her eyes finally opened. They were half-lidded and hazy in the aftermath of her pleasure. He couldn’t help the smug smirk that pulled at his lips at the sight.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “Yeah, I’m good.” She looked down to where he was straining against the confines of his leathers. “Looks like you could use a hand though.” She smirked at him and it was all he could do to keep the teasing quip he wanted to reply with behind the guardhouse of his lips. Her hands shook as she went to work on the laces of his leathers. Once his cock was freed, she took him in hand and began stroking him as he threw his head back in ecstasy. She raised a leg over his hip and used her foot to bring him closer, coating him in her juices.

“Are you sure about this, Emma?” he panted. His control was nearly at its end, but if she expressed the slightest hesitation or reluctance, he would step away.

“Yes, I want you, Killian. Please,” she begged.

With that, he sheathed himself in her depths, capturing her lips to keep the noises of their mutual desire at least somewhat contained. He held still for just a moment, letting her acclimate to his size, before swiveling his hips until she gasped out her pleasure and urged him to move.

Burying his head into where her neck met her shoulder, he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, prompting another gasp out of his love.

“Yes, gods, Killian,” she puffed in his ear. “Please.”

It was all he could do to keep himself under control. He’d wanted her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but to think that they were here, now, in this moment, was almost overwhelming him. There was no other woman for him in all the realms. She was fierce, strong, protective of those she loved, and absolutely bloody brilliant. To say nothing about her breathtaking beauty. He was hers forever. He surged into her heat once more, spilling himself into her depths, her walls fluttering around him as she fell a second time.

He held her tightly in his arms, still against the tree, as they both came down from their highs. She’d never had any lover that brought her to climax twice in the same round. Emma pressed her lips to his neck and tried to catch her breath from the dizzying pleasure.

Killian pulled out and looked into her eyes where the beginnings of panic swirled in their depths.

“No, Emma,” he urged. “Don’t do that. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised her. “I’ll not leave you. I wasn’t lying before. You know that. I know you know that. I am going to fight for you. Fight for us. I am here to help you get your son back, and I will still be here by your side when you do. I love you, Emma. And I will wait for you as long as I have to.”

Tears filled her eyes at his declaration and she moved into his space again and kissed him tenderly. How did he know exactly what she was thinking? Well, he had told her on the beanstalk that she was an open book. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

His mouth opened on a soft groan and stroked her seeking tongue with his own. She couldn’t say the words yet, but she was his. Just as he’d just pronounced that he was hers.

These moments of passion were already making the guilt surge, but with the assurances and promises he just uttered, she could tamp it down and focus on finding Henry and getting the hell off of Neverland. With Captain Hook by her side. Always.

~*~*~

“Aye, now then, let's make haste. I don't envy whatever lurks in these dark places, and it appears the cavern narrows into a corridor ahead.”

Hope's agreement was silent, her hand tightening in his as they both moved forward toward the passageway that split the stone on the opposite end of the room in which the portal had deposited them. They hadn't gone far, barely moving within its narrow length when the walls around them shook, stone grating and groaning to life somewhere nearby, but beyond their sight.

“Papa!” Hope hissed, her panic as sharp as the glint of his hook as he pushed her behind him and adopted a ready stance – the corridor too narrow for him to safely draw his sword. Her fingers clutched his arm and her breath evened as the violent trembling of stone slowed and then ceased completely. “What was that?”

“I don't know, but I'd rather not wait around to find out. Let's move quickly, but quietly, love.”

Sensing the edge in his voice, Hope merely nodded and stuck to his side as he hurried down the passageway as quickly as silence would allow, their breath the only sound in the narrow space, but they hadn't moved more than a dozen steps when Killian's hand found her chest, stilling her movement and stopping her in her tracks.

Every instinct within him was suddenly taut and sharp, screaming.

Something was wrong.

They'd known this would be dangerous, he and Emma; they'd known there was chance everything could go wrong, but they'd been left with no other choice. And now here they were, no more than a candlemark into Neverland, and already something was not as it should be.

His sense on alert, from somewhere ahead the tickle of a breeze teased his skin, carrying with it the damp, rich scent of soil and jungle.

The whisper of something – a voice – tugged him forward.

Wrong, this was all wrong.

“Papa, where are you...”

“Quiet,” he bit out, more sharply than he intended, his heart hammering in his chest loudly enough to eclipse the sound of his own breath. “Stay here, Hope.”  

“Papa, I can...”

He cut short her argument with a stern look he did not often point in her direction, and though there was the slightest hint of an eye roll – good gods, he missed his wife – she stayed put. Certain his daughter would listen, at least for a short while, he moved forward as if through a dream, following the scent of lush jungle and the occasional pull of something that should not be deep in the caverns of Neverland – a voice. The corridor veered slightly starboard, stealing Hope from his vision, but the scent of fresh air grew stronger, as did his certainty that they were not alone in these shadowed, stony halls.

A dark thought passed through his mind that the voice was nothing more than a trap to lure him away from his daughter, but then the source of the fresh air came into view – a crack no wider than the palm of his hand wound its way down a crease in the cavern wall. From it drifted the scent of cleaner air, and the whisper of people beyond the security of the hidden passage. He pressed himself against it, closing one eye so that the other might adjust to the space beyond. He looked out into a cavernous space, its stone ceiling so far above that a myriad of openings and cracks to the surface cast everything beneath in a diaphanous light.

As his eyes drifted down, another groaning rumble of stone thundered to life, and Killian was torn between watching and fleeing to make sure Hope was safe. His fatherly instinct won out, but before he could turn away, his eyes glanced down at a scene that was sickeningly familiar.

There was no moving from the spot he stood – fear and disbelief warring with panic in his gut.

This was all wrong.

Far across a bottomless pit stood a group of people, each of their faces as familiar as his own. Among them, golden curls and the glint of a silver hook caught the light. His face – younger, with no gray drawn in streaks through black hair, eyes cast pleadingly at the woman who stood across from him, uncertain and disbelieving and carrying the weight of loss on her shoulders.

His eyes fell back to the dark pit that stretched across the space, and sure enough, perched no more than the length of the Jolly's quarter deck away, there rose a plinth of stone, and on it a cage constructed of vines and bamboo, its bars held tight with twine and magic. Now, Killian could see what the tremors and rumbling had been caused by – a great pathway of stone had erupted from the darkness, bridging the distance between the cage and the people waiting in the distance.

Between the man trapped within the bounds of the cage and the woman who was now rushing toward him – Emma, his Emma.

But she wasn't yours here, not yet.

Unease rolled through his stomach as he watched the familiar scene unfold, but this time from the other side, Emma's face clear enough to him in the bright cavern, though she would have no idea that he stood on the other side of the stone wall. How had this happened? His heart hammered in his chest. The portal was supposed to bring them to Neverland only, not through the past – not to this time, when one wrong move could destroy everything they had.

A deep, burning sense of foreboding roared to life in his chest.

Hope – one wrong move and he could lose her, could lose both of them.

He fought the urge to run back to his daughter and sweep her into his arms. He needed to be certain that everything went as it should before him, that their arrival in the portal hadn't somehow changed the course of what was to happen here. He watched as Emma knelt in front of the cage, her voice pulling a longing so deep and primal from his chest that his eyes burned with the heat of it.

Through some trick of the cavernous space, he could hear Emma's voice as easily as if she was standing beside him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, but Henry,” Neal muttered, the gritty, rumbling tone of a man Killian had known only briefly on equal footing making him shift uncomfortably.  

“I...It's okay. We're gonna take care of him. Just need to get you out of there first.”

It was almost surreal seeing her like this, a memory not his own playing before him as he watched through the cavern wall. The words spoken between Emma and Neal were not new to him. There was very little his wife hadn't shared with him over their journey together, but seeing it himself – her sword clanging uselessly against the bars...

“What-- Emma. Emma, Emma. Emma! You know that's not how this works. It's okay. You can tell me anything.”

Heat rose in Killian's eyes as he watched the sword fall limply to her side, knowing it had failed her. She knelt, her fingers wrapped around the cage and her voice lowered. Still, he heard every word.

“When I heard you might be here, and that you might still be alive. I knew I should be happy, but I wasn't. I was terrified. I didn't understand why until now. From the moment I saw you in New York, in the instant you stepped back into my life. I knew. I knew I'd never stopped loving you. And before I even had a chance to take a breath...I...I lost you once more, and all that pain that I had pushed down for all those years, it just came...rushing back, and I...I didn't know if I could go through it again. I love you. I probably always will, but my secret...is that I was hoping that this was a trick. I was hoping you were dead...because it would be easier for me to put you behind me than to face all the pain that we went through all over again.”

Killian's heart broke hearing the words again. He'd heard them before, shared in the quiet of their home, his arms wrapped safely round her, but by then she'd been a different person – open to love and the support that came with it. But in the dark of the cave, she was the Emma he'd known long ago.

Alone, hurt, an orphan.

The strength it must have taken her to say those words to the man kneeling before her, knowing that in admitting a part of her would always love him, she was exposing to the very man that had broken her that he would always hold the ability to do so. He ached to be at her side, to sweep her into his embrace and promise that everything would be okay, more than that – that they'd find their son and bring him home – build a home together – that her heart would heal, that they would heal each other, that she was the best mother he'd ever seen. That he and Henry and Hope were lucky to have her, and she was the light of his world.

But he couldn't. He could only watch as the barrier between Emma and Neal disappeared at her admission, the other man crawling forward and wrapping her in a hug.

Emma's hands wrapped loosely around him, eyes peering through what was left of the cage over his shoulder. There was a moment, her brow knitting together, when her eyes met the dark fissure in the stone behind the cage, and her gaze found his – at least it seemed that way to Killian. He dared not move, all to aware that nothing could change. Nothing could risk their future, but then Neal was rising to his feet and the moment was gone. Emma returned to herself and stood, hurrying back over the bridge toward where her family stood.

Toward him.

Toward the future.

Toward...

“Hope...” he murmured, brushing aside the heaviness of the moment and hurrying back toward where he'd left his daughter.

He'd gone only a few steps when she was suddenly before him, clearly tired of being told to wait and uncertain of what he'd been confronting on his own. She was just like her mother in that way, intent on helping no matter the danger to herself.

“I told you to wait, love,” he sighed, pulling her into his chest and hugging her more forcefully then he'd intended, relenting a bit as she squirmed in his arms and looked up at him.

“What's wrong?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “What was that?”

Killian sighed, resting his chin on top of her head and closing his eyes despite the darkness. He hated lying to her, but neither did he want her to know the truth. She was insatiably curious, his daughter, and she'd insist of seeing for herself.

“It seems there's a cavern on the other side of this wall, and quite a large pit.” There, not a complete lie. “Perhaps some formation of rock fell. There's nothing to harm us, though we should get out of here as quickly as we can.”

“Okay, let's go then. I'm starving, and I want to see the actual jungle,” she sighed, tugging him back down the corridor. “Mom said it was terrible, but at this point I'm just glad there won't be any snow.”

“Aye,” Killian echoed, though his thoughts were far from Storybrooke and the cold winter that meant cups of hot cocoa heaped with marshmallows and whipped cream, and snowball fights in the yard that left them all red-cheeked and breathless.

As Hope tugged him along and the corridor wound its way back toward the main cavern of Echo Caves, Killian's thoughts were far from anything that had to do with Storybrooke and his family at all – instead they were on Neverland, and the bloody demon who would soon find them for reckoning.

----

Set just before Emma sees Pan in 3x02, slight divergence

“We have to rest, if we don’t we stand no chance of getting Henry back.”

Emma reluctantly agrees. Hook tells her he will take the first watch, and will wake them at any sign of danger.  

“I’ll keep watch too.” Emma tells him, to which he gives her a smirk. “I knew you liked me, Swan.”

“I'm not staying up because of you Hook, don’t get any ideas.” She scoffs, and he throws her another wink.

They sit on a log together, closely but not too close. Emma is stubborn, she’s only thinking of Henry, so they sit in silence watching the entrance to the clearing, making sure nothing was coming to ambush them while they sleep.

He offers her his flask as he can’t stand the silence between them. “You can’t stay awake all night, rum will help when you do decide to sleep.”

“I’m fine.” She snaps. “I’m used to this, stake outs, staying awake all night looking for bad guys.” He doesn't blame her for snapping, she’s a worried mother and they were here to save her son after all.

“Of course. You're a bail bonds person thing.” He remembers her saying something about it in Storybrooke, catching bad guys. He listens.

“I’m worried about Henry.” She finally says.

Killian just nods, “you’ll find him, heroes always win don’t they?”

He swears he can see the hint of a smile on her mouth.

Then the sounds of Neverland fill his ears, something he had grown accustomed to in his many years here, and a reason he liked nights anywhere else.

Emma suddenly unsheaths her sword, “Do you hear that?”

He looks at her for a moment, questioning what she heard. “You can hear it too?”

“I’m not fucking deaf Hook.”

He cringes, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just. It’s the cries of the Lost Boys.”

“So why wouldn’t I be able to hear it?” She looks around at the others sleeping peacefully, “why can’t they hear it?”

Taking a swing of Rum, he tells her “Lost Boys cry out to Lost Boys, or Lost Girls in your case.”

“I’m not a Lost Girl.”  She says it so quickly, as if she’s trying to prove a point. If she could hear the cries, then he would beg to differ.

He gives her a look that suggests otherwise, but she rolls her eyes at him and turns the other way, clearly trying to drown out the cries. “I have Henry, and my Parents.”

“If you say so.” He knows better and doesn't say anything else, not wanting to cause a fight, so he turns in for the Night.

3x04

She was hurting inside, she loved Baelfire, or Neal rather. He didn’t want to pry, he didn’t want to make things worse by telling Emma stories of him, especially when they were in his home on the Island. He didn’t interact much with Bae after he gave him over to Pan, it mostly consisted of him telling him he never wanted to see him again.

“He was courageous, that's for sure.” He tells her, “And Brave. Whatever he used to get off this Island, he wanted to make sure Pan didn’t know.”

“Okay then we need to keep looking.” Emma says rifling through a box under a table trying to find something useful.

KIllian silently sighs. He was trying to do something nice, tell her good things about the man she loved. But she just nods her head or ignores him. He knows best not to flirt right now, it would be foolish, but she still sees him as a worthless Pirate.

Because maybe that’s all he really is.

____

When she finds the candle and they uncover the map, again she brushes him off. He wanted to tell her how he taught Baelfire to make it, all the tricks and how they bonded over it, but he quickly decided against it. He sees the look in her parents eyes when he says he is unable to read it, they deem him worthless.

What more can he do to make these people trust him? Asking Charming to like him is a stretch, but Emma seems to trust him. Well at times. She may trust him slightly more than her parents, but she won’t allow him to get close, even when his intent is innocent.

3x05

“Swan.” He catches her just before they exit the cave. He knows exactly how she felt, the scribbles of days on the Island were not something that was exclusive to Baelfire. And he knew about the giving up, he saw the look in her eyes when her mother had eagerly hoped the counting stopped once he got off the Island. The counting never lasted very long.

“What? We’re wasting time?” She asks, she’s eager to get going and slightly annoyed he’s delaying her, but he wanted to tell her she wasn’t alone or the only one who ever felt the way she did.

“I just wanted to let you know. That I, too, know what it feels like to lose hope.” After everyone he loved died, he didn’t have much hope left, there was no point in having hope, it brought nothing but wasted years and endless torment.

Not that he expected her to sit down and listen to his life story, but he didn’t expect her to just shut him down completely. “I know what this is, you, you know, trying to bond with me. So save your breath I’m not in the mood.” and she walks away.

He sighs as he reaches for his flash. Of course. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t get through to her, all he wanted her to know was she wasn’t alone. But she only thinks he’s doing it to win points or something.

“Let me give you a bit of advice, Hook.” The Prince says as he goes to follow Emma. “She's never gonna like you.”

Of course her father would say that, doesn’t want a Pirate corrupting his princess daughter. “Is that so?” He challenges.

“How could she? You’re nothing but a Pirate.” He sneers as he walks off.

Damn right he was a Pirate. But he was a Pirate that had told them about Pan and stopped anyone else getting nicked with Dreamshade. He was going to get them off this blasted Island. Taking another swing of Rum he follows the Prince out.

_______

“Perhaps you’re the one that couldn’t handle it.” It’s a tease, there’s rum involved, he expected her to turn him down completely, or make a flirty comment then go back to her Parents.

But she doesn’t. She does the last thing he ever expected her to do. She grabs him by the lapels, pulling him close and kisses him. But it’s not a quick kiss where she pulls away, she’s been wanting this for as long as he has. It feels like time stopped, he moves his free hand into her hair, wanting the kiss never to end. But after a while, she pulls away for good, turning away quickly and mumbling something about getting firewood. She didn’t want him to see her face, flushed and red, as he was.

“As you wish.” He simply says, and he swears he can see her pause for a fraction of a second, contemplating whether to turn back. But she doesn’t.

Killian just stands there, touching his lips, still feeling her lips after they had  gone. He knew he fancied her, she was gorgeous and strong and feisty, nothing like he had ever seen before. But actually kissing her, having her that close and intimate was something else entirely. He felt warm inside, and he wanted to know everything there was to know about Emma Swan. Of course he wanted her lips back on his lips, and in other places too. But it was more than that, he wanted to spend every moment with her, getting to know all there was about her.

3x06

Neal was alive. Emma’s former lover, the man she watched die and the man she had been grieving over. This man was still Bae, so part of Killian was relieved he was alive, but he couldn’t help feeling angry. Emma had kissed him, he felt maybe there was a chance, but that chance had been squashed by the cruel fates.

The Echo Caves. A place where one secret will destroy you, only a few of his crew had survived, but it was not the same after they returned. The secrets you reveal change you, they change perspectives. One of his men revealed a secret so dark he ended up drowning himself rather than live with other people knowing it. Thankfully he himself had never been inside, but that did not make him any less fearful.

“I kissed Emma.” He reveals, slightly afraid of how the Prince may react. He doesn’t even look at Emma to see how she reacts, he knew it had to mean something to her too, but her mind was more likely with the man in the cage just 50 feet away.

“I already told Mary Margaret, so technically it’s not a secret.”

“It's what the kiss exposed.” He admits after a pause, wondering how deep he had to go. “I never thought I’d be capable of moving on after My Milah, to believe I could find somebody else. That is until I met you.”

And there it was. The secret he had been too afraid to admit to even himself. He knew even before kissing Emma, that she was special to him. What was in that damned kiss, it was as though he had a vision of his future, or what it could be, just the two of them alone and in this vision Killian felt happier than he had ever been in his 300 year life.

But the man she really loved was trapped in a cage and he felt as though he had no chance. He doesn’t hear what she says to him, they’re too far away, and he does not wish to hear what her secret was either, it was not exactly going to be Emma saying she had feelings for a Pirate, it was probably somewhere closer to wanting to build a life together with Henry once they were back in Storybrooke.

Despite him being back, and also fighting for Emma’s heart, Killian knew she was still hurt by the man who abandoned her and left her alone for all those years. He knew that part of Emma still had doubts. He also knew that their kiss didn’t mean nothing to her, while it may have not exposed her, as much as it did to him, he was going to fight for her, and for the first time in almost 300 years, he had Hope.

3x07

Dark Hollow. Another place where Killian had lost crewmen. But it was to save Emma’s boy, what they were here for. He wanted to be a hero for once. Prove to Emma he did care about saving her boy, and trying to be good.

“You chose your friend?” Why was she so surprised, had this trip not proven he was not the selfish Pirate she had climbed the beanstalk with?

“Does that surprise you?”

“You are a Pirate.” Why was that such a bad thing? Being a Pirate was part of who he was, if she knew why he became a Pirate, she might understand it, but she just saw him as someone who wanted revenge rather than a boy that was once lost and found somewhat of a home in his ship.

“Yeah that I am. But I also believe in good form.” He takes a couple of steps closer to her, closing the gap ever so slightly. “So when I win your heart, Emma. And I will win it, it will not be because of any trickey, it will be because you want me.”

She fights slightly, ignoring the way he was so confident that she would choose him in the end, by saying they were here for Henry. But, he has yet to see her fail, she is strong and stubborn and is willing to fight hard to win. He swears in the milliseconds before Bae interrupts their moment, her eyes had the same glint in them right before she kissed him. He wasn’t giving up, he wanted to prove to Emma he wasn’t just a thieving Pirate, he wanted her to give him a chance, to realise that they aren't that different.

___

He fucks it up when they’re fighting over the lighter. He doesn’t even know why he let himself get into a fight over it, it wasn’t like Emma would be more impressed by the one who managed to light it, none of that mattered to her.

‘HOOK!” She screams his name as the shadow grips him to the tree. It was a stupid thing to feel excited about considering he could easily die, but he doesn’t hear her scream Bae’s name.

One moment a shadow is ripping his from his body, screaming in pain but yelling for Emma to escape while she still can, and the next moment he falls to the ground, shadow still intact. He was alive. Emma was his saviour indeed.

Magic, she’d used her magic to light the candle. He can’t help but smile, she did it, she bloody well did it. But he sees the look on Neals face when he realises she used magic. He hates magic after growing up with his father as the Dark One, he understands why, but magic is a part of Emma. She wouldn’t be Emma without it.

“You did it Swan. You’re bloody brilliant.” He tells her this, not just so Neal knows he isn’t afraid of her, but also so Emma knows how amazing she is. She should embrace her power, he knows she would only ever use it for good anyway.

“I couldn’t let you die.” She tells him, catching her breath in fear, “I couldn’t let either of you die.” She quickly adds. He can’t help but smile, she did care about him.

3x08 while Emma and the Others are off rescuing Henry

“I can’t believe you’re helping the heroes. What happened to the Pirate I knew all those years ago?” Tink teases, they had been through a lot in Neverland together, both trying to keep out of Pan's mischievous ways.

‘I have my reasons.” Is all he tells her. Killian was never one for revealing too much at once, no matter what Tink was to him, or once was.

“I think I know what it’s about, or rather who, it's about.” Tink had her ways of being sleuthy, quiet but picking up on everything she sees and hears.

“The Boy. Henry. That's why I’m here, nothing else.” Again, it was a simple statement, not revealing too much. He couldn’t admit the truth to Tink, what would he do with the information.

“Ah, just about the boy. Not about his mother who you haven’t been able to stop looking at or thinking about since who knows how long?” Tink had noticed how whenever Emma wasn’t looking, Hook would follow her gaze, watching her every movement. Not in a stalkerish way though, he was watching her to see what she did and figure out what she was thinking about, if she were thinking of him and if she would ever follow his gaze.

Hook hadn’t noticed, but Tink did, Emma watched him as much as he did her. When he was talking to someone, or looking at a map or their surroundings, she watched him, followed his gaze and tried to see what he was thinking about. As a fairy, Tink had heightened senses and she could hear peoples heartbeats and footsteps more than the average human, meaning when Emma or Hook got up and walked around, the other person's heart started beating a little harder.

“What do you want me to say Tink? That I’m falling in love with Emma and it's killing me inside because she doesn’t feel the same way? Or that I am desperately trying to make her notice me, or talk to me.” It was all coming out, all the things he had kept bottled inside since his arrival here. “I see the way she looks at her family, she’s happy to have them, but there’s still the look of an orphan, something I understand better than anyone and yet she doesn’t care, she only thinks I’m there to flirt when in actual fact I am the only person who really gets her. And I know I was a dick in the past to them, but I want to get off this blasted island as much as they do.”

And there it was. Killians feelings from being in Neverland. It didn’t help that he was falling in love again in the place he escaped to when he lost his love.

“I knew Bae as a kid, he was always a good kid, I liked him and I helped him hide from Pan.” Killian didn’t know why Tink was saying this, he knew he was a good kid-that didn’t make him feel better about Emma having strong feelings for him. “But you say he grew up and left the girl he supposedly loves?”

Killian just nods, unsure of where this conversation was leading.

“Humans tend to repeat their patterns, you know. Like Regina, I gave her chances to be good, and she chose evil, every time she chose the same thing. You say that Bae left her once? Well situations like that will continue to happen.”

“I have never left her.” He tells Tink, wanting her to know he was different from the coward who ran.

Tink just smiles at him. “I know. I have a good feeling about the two of you.”

____