#captain swan canon divergence

[jrob64]

Exacting His Revenge - Chapter 2

Welcome to chapter 2 of @kmomof4's birthday story. There will be one more chapter after this, and because the birthday girl has requested smut for that chapter, the story is now rated M. I haven't begun writing the final chapter yet, but hopefully you won't have to wait too long.

Thanks so much to @hookedmom, my wonderful beta and friend.

Story Summary: When Hook sees an opportunity to finally get his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, he seizes it, putting him in the company of Emma Swan. A season 2 canon divergent story.

Rating: M

Words (Ch. 2): 6076

Posted on Tumblr - Chap. 1 and also on ffn & Ao3

Story under the cut

Hook had been to many ports in his hundreds of years, but none as crazy and disconcerting as New York City. The people at the harbor seemed especially interested in his ship and he almost decided against leaving it there, but knew time was of the essence.

The city itself was loud, dirty and obnoxiously colorful. Bright lights flashed everywhere around him and huge signs displayed pictures of everything from barely clad women to bottles of whiskey.

People walking past barely paid attention to him, even though he saw no one else dressed, even remotely, like him. However, their attire was vastly diverse and he supposed he really didn’t stand out any more than anyone else.

At first, he was overwhelmed with the tall buildings and massive size of the city and nearly despaired at finding Emma. Taking deep breaths of the stale, putrid air failed to calm him, so he sought a place where he wasn’t surrounded by buildings that seemed to stretch as high as the beanstalk he and Emma climbed.

When he finally found a large plot of grass and trees, he wandered through it until he spotted a bench in a somewhat quiet area. Sitting down, he closed his eyes and pictured Emma. Ever since he first laid eyes on her from his position underneath a pile of bodies, he felt a connection with her that he really couldn’t explain. It was as if he could tell when she was near, simply by thinking about her. She was like a magnet, drawing him to her.

The longer he sat there, the clearer his mind became. When he was compelled to start walking again, he seemed to have some indication of which way to go. Before long, he was standing outside what appeared to be a residential building. He went into the lobby, but found it empty. Looking around, he discovered a small bench along the wall beside the door and settled down on it to wait.

Numerous people came and went while he waited, none of them paying any attention to the leather clad pirate. He was beginning to think his intuition was wrong, when he heard a familiar voice and saw Emma and Rumplestiltskin entering the lobby.

“...still can’t believe you screamed about wanting to be the first one off the plane until you got yourself placed on the ‘no fly’ list, Gold. How are we supposed to get back to Storybrooke now?”

“I can get us back with a mere flick of…”

“We’re in the fucking land without magic!” Emma hissed.

“We’ll worry about the problem of getting back later. Right now, I need to find my son.”

They were so caught up in their conversation, neither of them noticed Hook. As they searched for something on the wall, he bided his time. He hadn’t prepared his hook with the poison yet and he didn’t want to do it while they were standing right in front of him.

“I bet this is it,” Emma said. “It’s the only one without a name. I know from experience that when a person doesn’t want to be found, they won’t put their name beside their apartment number.”

She pushed the button beside the number and waited. There was no response. She was getting ready to press it again when a heavyset woman with her hands full of shopping bags entered the lobby. Rudely pushing past Emma and Gold, she dropped the bags that were in her right hand, dug in the pocket of her gaudily flowered dress and withdrew a key. After unlocking the metal gate, she collected her bags and passed through.

Quickly, Emma stopped the gate from closing and gestured for Gold to go through ahead of her. Hook watched their slow progress up the stairs, waited until they disappeared, then pulled the bottle of poison out of his pocket. Before he had a chance to uncork it, a man entered the lobby. Something about him seemed familiar to Hook and he studied the man as he unlocked the gate, entered, then hurried up the steps.

Hook was so busy trying to place the man, he forgot to get his hook ready to attack Rumplestiltskin. He was further distracted by feet pounding down the stairs. The man who had just gone upstairs plunged back down them, burst through the gate and took off out the door.

“Go get him, Miss Swan!” Hook heard Rumplestiltskin shouting. “I can’t run, so you have to catch him. Get him to come back here and talk to me!”

As Emma flew past Hook, red scarf trailing behind her, he realized why the man she was chasing looked familiar. It was Baelfire!

Thinking quickly, Hook dashed across the lobby and caught the gate with his hook before it slammed shut. He knew he didn’t have much time if Rumplestiltskin was on his way downstairs, but after listening carefully for several seconds, he was able to determine the crocodile wasn’t following Emma.

As he uncorked the poison, he grinned at the irony. The day Rumplestiltskin found his son again was the day he was finally going to die. After dousing his hook with the deadly poison, he stuffed the empty bottle back into his pocket. Then he began creeping up the stairs, keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of the vile imp.

When he reached the second floor, he moved down the hallway, listening at each door along the way. Behind some, he heard music or conversation, while others were completely silent. He knew the man he sought could be in any of those apartments, but Hook had a feeling he wasn’t.

Continuing on to the next floor, he immediately noticed an open door at the far end of the hallway. Sucking in a breath, he started in that direction, pondering if he could possibly be lucky enough for that to be the right place.

Once he reached the doorway, he peeked around the open door and saw Rumplestiltskin leaning out the window, looking down at the street below. Hook swiftly covered the space between them, grabbing the other man’s arm and spinning him around.

“Tick tock, Crocodile,” he growled, then sunk the tip of his hook into Rumplestiltskin’s chest.

Gold let out a choked cry, dropping his cane to clutch at the metal appendage. “You…you cannot kill the Dark One,” he gasped.

“Ah, but dreamshade straight to the heart can,” Hook leered. As Gold’s eyes widened and filled with fear, Hook continued, “Now, as you die, you can think about how very close you came to seeing your son again. The one you abandoned because you chose power instead. And you can think of Belle, back in Storybrooke, waiting for you to come home. I told you all demons could be killed and it looks like I did indeed find a way.”

Yanking the hook out of his victim, Hook gave him a slight push and watched with satisfaction as he slumped to the floor. “Milah’s death is finally avenged. I’m sated, replete. My life’s purpose is met,” he said savagely, his face mere inches from Rumplestiltskin’s.

Then he straightened up, turned, and triumphantly walked out the door.

*********

It took Hook longer than expected to make it back to his ship. When he finally did, he was appalled to find that he owed docking fees and they wouldn’t take doubloons as payment. By the time he worked out a deal with the harbormaster to send the money once he got home (which he had no intention of doing) the sun was beginning to set.

He readied the ship to sail, trying to keep his mind off of the fact that he may never see the lovely and fiery Emma Swan again. Just as he was set to instruct the dock workers to untie the ropes, he glanced across the bow of the ship and his mouth dropped open in shock.

He could see Emma and Baelfire were approaching the Jolly Roger. They were half carrying, half dragging Rumplestiltskin between them. As they started up the gangplank, Hook moved to block the opening in the ship’s railing. “Where do you think you’re going?” he boomed.

Emma and Bae looked up at him in surprise. “Hook? You’re here?” she asked.

“Where did you expect me to be? This is my ship after all. How did you know it was going to be here?”

“We took a chance,” Baelfire answered. “My father said it was you who stabbed him. We figured you sailed to New York and hoped you hadn’t left yet.”

“When we saw the ship, we thought you may have gotten lost on your way back here or something,” Emma said. “Neal said he could sail the ship back to Storybrooke, but now that you’re here, you can do it.”

Hook widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “The bloody crocodile isn’t coming aboard my ship.”

“Hook, please,” Emma begged. “He says he has a cure for dreamshade in his shop…”

“Why would I want him to be cured?” Hook interrupted. “I intended to kill him. I’m not going to do anything that will help him survive.”

“You owe me, Hook,” Baelfire snarled. “You already took my mother from me and now you’re trying to take my father, too.”

“And my son’s grandfather,” Emma added.

“Your son’s…How?��� Hook asked, but as soon as he did, the pieces clicked into place. “Wait, you mean the two of you…?” He gestured between Baelfire and Emma.

“Can we discuss this aboard the ship?” Emma asked, hoisting Gold’s limp form up a little higher. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

Hook remained slackjawed for another few moments, before his countenance darkened once again. “I told you I’m refusing his admittance onto my ship.”

Emma gave Baelfire a meaningful look, then disentangled herself from Gold, leaving his son to keep him upright. She hurried up the ramp to stand in front of Hook.

“Look, I know you hate the guy and I don’t blame you, but Henry has the right to know Gold is his grandfather. Plus, Neal is Henry’s father and he deserves a chance to meet him.”

“Neal?” Hook questioned.

“That’s how I knew him, not as Baelfire. He took a more modern name in the land without magic.”

“How did the two of you…”

“I’ll explain everything to you later, but first we need to get back to Storybrooke. Personally, I don’t care if Gold lives or dies, but since it turns out he’s Henry’s grandfather, I’ve got to do all I can to try to help him survive.”

Hook’s jaw ticked furiously, but before he could protest again, Emma stepped closer. Looking deeply into his eyes, she pleaded, “Please, Hook. Do it for me?”

Hook narrowed his eyes and stared at her for several long moments. “What’s in it for me?” he finally asked.

Emma sighed heavily. “Can’t you just do it out of the goodness of your heart?”

“I’m a pirate, Love. I have no goodness in my heart.”

“I don’t believe that, Hook. You helped me and Mary Margaret get back to Storybrooke and you can’t convince me it was only because you wanted to get your revenge.”

“Emma! Hurry up!” Baelfire called.

She turned to look at him, then turned back to Hook. “If you get us back to Storybrooke, I’ll…I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re a hero.”

Hook blinked in disbelief. “A hero?”

“Yeah. Like I said, you brought the rightful queen back to her people.”

“I also shot the town librarian.”

“True, but if Gold dies, they’ll be able to overlook that. Everyone in town hates him.”

“I’m bringing him aboard, Hook!” Bae yelled, his voice strained from holding his father up.

“Please, Hook,” Emma begged again.

He reached out and captured a lock of her hair between his thumb and fingers. “I’ll allow him aboard on one condition.” Emma raised a brow, silently encouraging him to continue. “You join me for dinner on the Jolly Roger once we’re back.”

“Seriously?”

“You’re asking me to bring my worst enemy onto my beloved ship and sail him to Storybrooke in an effort to save his life - the life I’ve been trying to take for hundreds of years. One dinner with me isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

Emma glanced between him and the men on the dock. Then she seemed to deflate a bit. “Fine. I’ll have dinner with you.”

Hook watched her walk back down the gangplank and help Baelfire maneuver Rumplestiltskin up to the ship, swallowing down his malice with every step they took. When they got the injured man aboard and began making their way to the hatch which led down to the living quarters, Hook quickly stepped in front of them.

“I may have been forced to allow him on my ship, but he will not be given the luxury of being in my quarters, or even those of my crew,” he growled menacingly.

“Where are we supposed to put him then?” Emma asked, breathing hard from the exertion of hauling the man around.

Hook walked over to the starboard side of the ship. “There,” he said, pointing to a specific place on the wooden deck.

Giving him a quizzical look, Emma helped Neal lower Gold down to the designated area. While they helped the man get as comfortable as possible, Hook went about sailing the ship out of port.

Once they were out on the open sea, Emma climbed the steps to where Hook was standing behind the wheel. “Is there any way you can make this ship go faster? If we don’t get back to Storybrooke very soon, it’s going to be too late.”

“Our speed is dependent on the wind. I can’t control that.”

Emma looked thoughtful. “I wonder if I could.”

Hook narrowed his eyes. “Are you thinking of using your magic?”

“You have magic, Ems?” Baelfire asked incredulously, taking them both by surprise. Neither had heard him approaching.

Emma sighed and turned toward him. “Yeah, it seems the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming somehow has the ability of performing magic.”

“How did you figure that out?”

“When the evil queen’s mother tried to pull my heart out of my chest to crush it, she couldn’t. Apparently it was because I have magic inside me.”

Neal laughed humorlessly. “You expect me to believe that?”

Hook moved to stand beside Emma. “It’s true. I saw it myself.”

The other man crossed his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t mean Emma has magic. Maybe it just means pulling a person’s heart out isn’t possible.”

“It bloody well is possible,” Hook growled. “I watched your father do it to…” He stopped short, suddenly realizing what he was about to say.

“To who, Hook?” Baelfire challenged.

Hook set his jaw, determined to set the record straight at last. “To your mother. That’s how she died. Your father” he spat, pointing to the man writhing in pain on the lower deck, “reached into her chest, pulled out her heart and crushed it right in front of me. She died in that very spot. That’s why I had you lay him there, to remind him of the horribly despicable act he committed.”

“You’re lying,” Baelfire said through clenched teeth. “He told me pirates killed her.”

“That’s the thing about the Dark One,” Hook shot back. “Dark One lies. Dark One tricks. The truth is, Milah and I loved each other and she was miserable with him, so she ran off with me. He couldn’t stand the fact that she left him, so he killed her.”

Baelfire’s face lost all color. “Is that true?”

Hook’s eyes softened, seeing the boy he once took care of within the man. “Aye, and I’ve been seeking my revenge ever since. I tried to tell you when you were a lad…”

“But you can’t deny that you took her away from me,” Baelfire accused.

Hook dropped his head and swallowed. “Not a day went by that she didn’t miss you and talk about you. We always planned to go back to get you when you were a bit older and better able to live aboard the ship, but she..she was killed before we could do it.”

The two men fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Emma looked between them, then cleared her throat. “Do you, uh…do you want me to try using magic…”

“No!” Neal shouted, making her jump. “Look, I don’t know if you have magic or not, but even if you do, I don’t want you to use it.”

Emma gaped at him. “But your father may die!”

“Let him die. He’s destroyed countless lives and killed so many people. Now it’s his turn. You reap what you sow,” Bae said bitterly, then he turned and walked to the port side of the ship, completely ignoring his father’s weak pleas.

Emma turned to look at Hook. “I, um…I understand now.”

“Understand what, Love?”

“Why you sought revenge against Gold for so long. Is that what Cora intended to do to me? Tear out my heart and crush it?”

“If I remember correctly,” Hook said, sauntering toward her, “she meant to rip out your mother’s heart to present it to Regina. You simply got in her way.”

Emma mulled that over for a few moments. Finally, she looked up at him, sincere sympathy shining in her eyes. “I’m sorry about Milah, Hook. That must have been very painful to watch.”

He sighed. “Aye, it was. Even the pain from him cutting off my hand didn’t hurt as badly as seeing the light go out of her eyes as life left her body.”

Her head snapped up. “He…he cut off your hand after he killed her?”

Hook nodded grimly, subconsciously rubbing his hand over the curve of his hook.

“That explains why you call him ‘crocodile’.”

His brow raised in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know, like in the book Peter Pan, when Pan cuts off Captain Hook’s hand and feeds it to the crocodile.”

“That book is a work of fiction. Pan is a demon, but he had nothing to do with me losing my hand. However, I am intrigued that my fame is so widespread that I’ve been written as a character in a novel.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “So why do you call Gold the crocodile, then?”

“When he’s in his true form as the Dark One, his skin is scaly and greenish-gray, like the cold-blooded reptile he is.”

She hummed in understanding, then turned her eyes to the deck. Neal was leaning on the ship’s railing, his back turned toward his father. His jaw was clenched tightly and that, combined with the way he agitatedly rubbed his hands together, clearly conveyed his anger.

On the other side of the ship, Gold lay on his side, one hand clutching the wound in his chest, while the other stretched toward Baelfire futilely. Emma could see his lips moving, mouthing the words, “Please, Bae” over and over.

With a quick glance at Hook, Emma went down the steps and over to Neal. Hook didn’t follow, but couldn’t help himself from listening to the conversation. Years of being on the sea allowed him the knowledge that sound carried on the water and most private conversations were anything but private.

“Don’t you think you should go over and talk to him?” Emma asked. “If you don’t and he dies, you’ll probably regret it for the rest of your life.”

Baelfire shrugged indifferently. “I haven’t talked to him for years and I don’t regret it. I could have lived the rest of my life without seeing him again and I wouldn’t regret it.”

“You can’t know that for sure…”

He whirled around, his face contorted in anger. “He fucking killed my mother, Emma! Then he lied about what happened to her and went on living his pathetic life as the fucking Dark One! He chose being the Dark One over being a father to me! I owe him nothing!”

Hook felt a twinge of jealousy as Emma laid her hand on Bae’s shoulder. “This is your last chance, Neal. Ask him why he made those decisions. The man is dying. He may be ready to confess and cleanse his conscience.”

“He wouldn’t be able to cleanse his conscience if he had an eternity,” Baelfire spat.

“Then at least tell him how you feel. Make him understand how much he hurt you. I…I did that with my mom and it helped me deal with my feelings of abandonment.”

Bae glanced over to where his father lay in agony. Hook could tell he was contemplating what Emma said. Finally, he blew out a long breath, gave her a grim smile and patted her hand where it still rested on his shoulder. Then he slowly crossed the deck and lowered himself to sit beside Rumplestiltskin.

After following his movements, Hook looked back at Emma. She was standing with her arms crossed, watching the scene unfolding on the other side of the ship. She must have felt his gaze on her, because her eyes shifted to him for a brief moment, before flicking back. Hook reluctantly turned his attention to the two men.

Father and son sat without speaking for several tense moments. When Baelfire finally broke the silence, it was through gritted teeth. “I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to do something you rarely do and tell the truth. Agreed?”

“Bae…”

“Agreed?” Baelfire asked again, barely containing his rage.

Rumplestiltskin sighed. “Yes, son.”

“How did my mother die? Did you kill her?”

“You have to understand…”

“Did. You. Kill. Her?” Baelfire bit out.

Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes. “Yes.”

Baelfire clenched his hands into fists. “By tearing out her heart and crushing it?”

“Yes, but she…”

“Save it! Nothing she did was bad enough for her to deserve that kind of death.” Bae pushed himself to his feet and paced back and forth beside his prone father. “Did you kill her before or after you refused to follow me through the portal?”

“After. I was…” He sucked in a sharp breath and clutched at his chest, a wave of pain obviously passing through him. Hook couldn’t help but feel a macabre sense of satisfaction over being the one responsible for the crocodile’s suffering. “I was trying to obtain a magic bean…in an effort to find you. I knew she had one.”

“You planned to find me?”

“Yes. I…I’ve been trying to find you ever since you left.”

“Since I left?” Bae exploded. “You mean since you let me go!”

Rumplestiltskin stretched out a bloodied hand. “Please, son. All I wanted all these years was to be reunited with you. You have to believe me.”

Bae suddenly slammed a fist down on the railing. “How can I believe you? You’re the Dark One! All you do is lie! If you truly wanted to be with me, why didn’t you come through the portal with me in the first place?”

“I was afraid…”

“Afraid of what? Losing your power? Not having magic? What could make you so fearful that you couldn’t even stay with your only son?”

“Bae, I…I wanted to give you everything…”

“I didn’t need everything! I just needed you, Papa!”

“Please…forgive me,” Rumplestiltskin managed to say between labored breaths.

Baelfire studied him for several seconds. “I…I don’t think I can. My whole life has been tainted because of your terrible choices.”

“Bae…please…”

Squatting down beside him, Baelfire looked into his father’s pain-filled eyes. “Let me ask you something. If you could do it all over again, would you still have become the Dark One, or would you have stayed with me, even if it meant being known as the town coward?”

Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth to answer, but seemed to reconsider. When he finally spoke, he said, “I wanted to protect you…and I couldn’t do that…unless people feared me…”

Bae stood up. “That’s all the answer I need. You’ll always choose power over me or anyone else. Now, you’re going to die alone, just like you left me.” With those words, he walked away from his father.

Hook watched Baelfire move to the bow of the ship, then shifted his eyes to the pathetic, sniveling form of the Dark One. He expected to feel nothing but glee over the heartbreak and demise of his nemesis, but to his surprise, he felt a tiny pang of sympathy for him. Hook himself knew what it was like to have Baelfire turn his back on him and walk away.

“Do you think I should talk to him?” Emma asked quietly.

“Baelfire or the crocodile?”

“Bael, um, Neal. Maybe I should try to convince him to give his father another chance. He is dying, after all. It’s the last chance he has to forgive him.”

Hook speared her with an intense look. “He doesn’t deserve forgiveness.”

“I know he’s the Dark One and has done some horrible things, but…”

“That’s correct, and you just heard him tell Bae that, given the chance, he wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Still…”

“Look, Swan, if you feel sorry for the bloody crocodile, perhaps you should be the one to comfort him in his dying moments. Bae made his choice, and the underworld will freeze over before I give him any sympathy.”

“I understand, but it just seems really sad for him to die all alone on the deck…”

“In the same spot where my Milah died?” Hook growled. “I consider it poetic justice.”

Emma looked back at Gold and chewed her bottom lip. Then, after a quick glance at Hook, she made her way down the steps. Hook watched her go, jaw ticking in agitation.

She knelt down beside the dying man and murmured something Hook couldn’t quite hear. At the groaning acknowledgement of the man, Emma continued in a louder voice. “If we don’t make it back to Storybrooke in time, do you, um, is there anything you want me to tell Belle?”

“Tell her…I wish…I could have…seen her…one last time.”

“Anything else?”

“Thank her…for loving…a beast…like me.”

Emma nodded. Hook could see Rumplestiltskin’s chest rising and falling more shallowly with each breath and knew the end was very near.

“You…and Bae…” Rumplestiltskin gasped. “Do the…two of you…”

Emma’s eyes widened. “If you’re asking if I love him, the answer is no.” Hearing those words, Hook couldn’t help breathing a small sigh of relief.

“But Henry…”

“Today was the first time Neal heard about Henry. He didn’t know I was pregnant when he, um, the last time I saw him.”

The two fell silent and Hook wondered if the crocodile had spoken his final words. Just as he was convinced he had, he heard the man mutter, “Tell…Bae…I’m sorry.”

Before Emma could respond, Rumplestiltskin emitted a rattling breath and went completely still. Emma put two fingers on his throat to feel for a pulse. After a few moments, she announced, “He’s gone.”

At her words, Bae turned and made his way back to his father’s side.

“He told me to tell you he was sorry,” Emma said. “Those were his last words.”

Baelfire shrugged his shoulders. “It’s too little, too late. He had the opportunity to tell me himself, but he didn’t.”

As the two of them stood looking down at him, a swirl of black smoke began rising from his body, causing both of them to jump back.

“What the hell is that?” Emma asked.

“It appears to be the darkness leaving its host,” Hook explained, ambling over to stand beside her.

Her eyes widened. “It…it’s not going to attach itself to one of us, is it?”

They warily watched the haze floating in the air, ducking when it got close to them. After hovering for a while, it drifted away and dissipated.

“Where did it go?” Emma asked. “Is it going in search of the next Dark One?”

“There won’t be another Dark One,” Hook said.

“How could you possibly know that?” Baelfire snapped.

Hook looked at him pointedly. “How is the power passed on?”

“By killing the Dark One with the dagger,” Emma answered.

“Aye, and since the crocodile wasn’t killed with the dagger, the darkness has no one to whom it can attach itself.”

“So it’s just…gone?” Emma inquired skeptically.

“It would appear to be.”

Bae’s eyes shifted from where the darkness disappeared, down to his father’s lifeless form. Squatting down, he brushed some strands of hair away from his forehead. Emma hesitantly reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Neal.”

“He wasn’t always a bad father, you know. When I was a little boy, he was the best Papa. But then, the darkness and his thirst for power took over and he…” He hung his head and rubbed his eyes with one hand while the other remained on his father’s forehead. Suddenly, he shouted, “Damn you, Papa! Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why did you have to become the fucking Dark One? Why?”

As sobs wracked his body, Hook and Emma exchanged helpless looks, unsure of what to say or do.

“Bae,” Hook began.

Baelfire jumped to his feet, face contorted in pain and anger. Jabbing a finger into Hook’s chest, he screamed, “NO! Do not say anything! You took both of my parents from me and I hate you!”

“Calm down, Neal,” Emma said.

Neal turned and unleashed his wrath at her. “Are you taking his side? He’s nothing but a selfish, filthy pirate, Ems!”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side, but just a few minutes ago, you made it sound like you couldn’t care less that your father died.”

“That doesn’t take away from the fact that he killed him!” he raged, poking Hook again.

Hook didn’t respond. He understood that Bae had anger he needed to work out. If Hook was the recipient of that anger, he would accept it, as long as he didn’t direct it toward Emma.

“Look,” Emma said forcefully, “we’re gonna have to be on this ship together for quite a while yet, so just try to stay away from each other, alright?”

“Aye, Love,” Hook said. “I think we can do that.”

Baelfire took a step away from Hook and eyed him critically. “Where do you get off calling her ‘love’? Is there something going on between you two?”

“No!” Emma replied quickly. At the same time, Hook poked his tongue into his cheek, before answering, “Perhaps.”

Bae looked from one to the other, eyes squinted and mouth set in a hard line. “Stay away from her, Hook.” Grabbing Emma’s arm, he said, “Come on, Ems. Let’s go below deck.” Before she could respond, he started toward the hatch, yanking forcefully on her arm.

She planted her feet and tried unsuccessfully to pull out of his grip. “I don’t want to, Neal. I’m going to stay up here.”

“With him? You can’t do that. He’s…”

Emma jerked her arm free and glared at him. “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do, Neal! I’m no longer a teenage girl that you can manipulate. I may have helped you with your father, but don’t get the idea that I have feelings for you any more or that we have any chance of getting back together. I’m older and much, much wiser now.”

Hook watched Baelfire’s expression change from anger to confusion. “But you said we have a son…”

“We do, but that doesn’t mean that we’re going to be a family! You set me up for your stupid crime then abandoned me, so I had him while I was in jail and had to give him up for adoption. He managed to find me last year and talked me into going to Storybrooke, the cursed town created by Regina, who is the Evil Queen and his adoptive mother.”

Hook’s brows raised. That bit of information was news to him.

“You let the Evil Queen adopt my son?” Bae shouted.

Emma’s expression became furious. “Let her? I didn’t let her do anything! I didn’t know who was adopting my baby! I had no idea a fairytale world even existed where I’m the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming…”

“For real?” Bae interrupted. “They really are your parents?”

“Yeah, which makes them Henry’s grandparents along with Rumplestiltskin, and his step-great grandmother, the Evil Queen, is also his adoptive mother. If you tell me you’re actually the big, bad wolf - which would be very easy for me to believe, by the way - his family tree will be complete.”

Hook couldn’t help but smirk at her statement, but sobered the next moment when he realized that Milah was also the boy’s grandmother.

“I already told you why I had to leave you, Ems,” Neal said, his tone almost pleading.

“Oh, that’s right. Pinocchio told you he knew who you were, so rather than face your father, you decided to let me take the fall. It seems being a coward is a hereditary thing.”

“That’s not fair. You don’t know what it was like having the Dark One as my father. I was forced to make that choice…”

Emma took an aggressive step forward, her finger pointed in Baelfire’s face. “You told me you loved me! We could have had a good life together with our son!”

“We still can, now that the curse is broken and my father is gone.”

Emma turned her back, folding her arms over her chest. “It’s too late, Neal. I don’t love you any more. Maybe it would be better if Hook turned the ship around and took you back to New York.”

“I want to meet my son and bury my father. Besides, I would never let you sail back to Storybrooke all by yourself with that pirate.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I just flew to New York with the Dark One. I think I could handle Hook.”

Hook pressed his lips together to keep from smiling at her words. She had proven more than once that his assessment of her being a tough lass was accurate.

“Emma…” Bae began.

She whirled around to face him again. “Look, Neal. Just because we’re on this ship together until we get to Storybrooke doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. I’ve said all I want to say. Now, I’m gonna go over there,” she said, pointing to the other side of the ship, “and you can go…wherever you want to go, as long as it’s nowhere near me.” With that, she stomped away.

Hook turned and climbed the steps up to the helm. Standing behind the ship’s wheel, he watched Bae find a piece of canvas to lay over his father’s body. Then he sat down on the deck beside it and unabashedly stared at Emma, who was standing with her back to him, gazing out at the waves.

Hook’s eyes were also drawn to the blonde spitfire, her hair whipping in the wind. He could tell she was still angry by the way she stood stiff and straight. Knowing she couldn’t see him, he continued to observe her openly.

The first time he laid eyes on her, he was struck by her beauty. As he spent more time around her, he admired her fire and determination. Most people who held a knife to his throat would have found themselves on the pointy end of his sword. Then she chained him up in the lair of a giant. Yet he felt himself inexplicably drawn to her.

“I can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about you.”

He had plenty of time to think about that statement after she left him there. It gave him a strange feeling of hope that perhaps she thought of him as more than just a thieving, murderous pirate. Perhaps it was possible for her to see the good and honorable man still underneath all of his leather and bravado.

As the Jolly Roger sailed silently toward Storybrooke, Hook contemplated what he would do now that his quest for revenge was finally over. He had no family and no home, other than his ship. He had already sailed to numerous realms and seen almost everything the world had to offer. Nothing held any appeal for him.

Except Emma Swan.

That’s the moment he made the decision to stay in Storybrooke and try to win her heart.

*********

Thanks for reading!

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

@apiratewhopines @hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate

@caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @killihan-jones

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

4th of July Reruns: Independence Day

Happy 4th of July week to all who celebrate it! I have a couple of old 4th of July themed CS fics that I thought I'd share with all of you, and if all goes well, I'll have a new 4th of July fic to add to Fluffy Fridays this Friday!

Word Count: 2082

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay 

@ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch 

@missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 

@laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 

@nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4

 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious 

@laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight 

@lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv

 @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

Summary: This fic was originally posted to my Fluffy Fridays collection sometime around season 6. At the time, it was a "future fic", but now it is more of a slight canon divergence. With the Black Fairy defeated and the final battle won, Storybrooke is enjoying it's happily ever after and trying to make new memories. Emma has some exciting news for Killian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Independence Day

CS Genre: Future Fic

Spring slowly sizzled into summer—a particularly hot and humid summer in Storybrooke that had Emma grateful that they had indeed decided to stay in the Land Without Magic, a place where air conditioners were a thing.

Ever since the Black Fairy was defeated a few months ago, she and Killian had responded to far more “cat stuck in a tree” or “Leroy double parked in front of Granny’s” calls than “weird, fairy tale villain intent on world domination just destroyed something” calls.

In fact, they’d had no calls about fairy tale villains.  It seemed Storybrooke had finally settled down into a peaceful, sleepy little town, with its requisite cast of eccentric characters.

It had never been the kind of life Emma had imagined she would lead—sheriff in a small town where everyone knows everyone else, married to her true love and so happy she thought she might die from it.  But though it might not be the life she’d expected for herself, it was a life she loved with every fiber in her being.

Even when Regina decided to institute regular town meetings to discuss town business.  (Seriously, they really were turning into Stars Hollow.)  It was at one such meeting about a month ago, that the whole big production had been decided on.

“Now that we’re not, you know, fighting villains every other day,�� Leroy had said when Regina called on him to speak, “I think we need to start participating in normal society things.  The 4th of July is coming up.  Let’s do it up right.  Parade, fireworks, the whole shebang.”

Killian leaned over to Emma.  “Perhaps I’m missing something love, but what exactly is the significance of the 4th day of July, and why would it call for an unusual amount of festivity?”

Emma smirked, so glad to get back to the business of enlightening Killian about the modern world rather than, you know, trying not to die or trying to keep him from dying.  “It’s Independence Day in the United States, which is technically the country we live in.  Lots of celebrating goes on that day.”

He’d, as usual, wanted to pepper her with about a million questions.  Seriously, her husband wanted to know everything about everything.  Usually, Emma dealt with it by telling him to go look it up on the “magic box”, aka Internet, but that wasn’t exactly practical during a town meeting.  Seriously, Regina was as strict about “no talking!” in her meetings as the most demanding teacher. 

“Shhh!,” Emma had said as various members of the town began brainstorming ideas for the best (and, honestly the first) 4th of July Storybrooke had ever celebrated.  “You can look it up later.”

In the end they had decided to go with, as Leroy put it, the whole patriotic “shebang”.  There would be a parade through the main street of town in the morning—complete with the Storybrooke high school band and various prominent citizens dressed in their Enchanted Forest finest.  Emma wasn’t sure exactly what their Enchanted Forest attire had to do with the 4th of July, but she’d long since learned not to question these kind of decisions.  It only led to confusion and headaches.  Oh so many headaches.

(And to be honest, as the meeting was really ramping up, Emma realized kind of vaguely that she’d been having more headaches lately…along with way more nausea at weird times…and moments where she felt faint…and so much exhaustion she felt like she could barely get out of bed some mornings.  Maybe she should make an appointment with Dr. Whale to see what was going on with her, but she thought she’d give it a few more weeks.  After all, she’d been under a lot of stress since….well, basically since she moved to Storybrooke, and these weird symptoms were probably nothing more than her body sloughing off the stress and trying to get used to this strange new phenomenon known as “peace”.)

Anyway, the festivities would continue with a town picnic around noon and then fireworks as night fell.

And so it was that Henry and Killian spread out a blanket on the hill overlooking town on the evening of the 4th of July.  Emma set her picnic basket on the blanket, and then sat down beside it, reaching for the ginger ale she always had at the ready lately.  With a small, secret smile, she put a hand on her flat stomach, both excited and terrified about the news she’d received just the day before.

“And you’re sure we’re quite safe, here, love?”  Killian asked as he sat beside her.  “I must admit to being more than a little uneasy at the thought of the dwarfs setting off explosive devices for our amusement.  It seems like a terrible idea.”

They’d talked about fireworks as soon as they’d returned from the town meeting back in June, and Henry had been amazed that Killian had never seen a fireworks display.  “Are you serious?”  Henry asked.  “You’ve never seen fireworks?  Fireworks have been around for like…ever.  I know they were a thing in the Enchanted Forest.  I saw them in my storybook—during Cinderella’s wedding!”

Killian shrugged.  “Oh aye,” he’d said, “I’d heard of them, of course, but as a slave I’d not had much occasion to observe them.  And then once I’d become a pirate…well, I was far more interested in causing the explosions than viewing them.”

“But fireworks are way better than just explosions!” Henry had assured.  “They’re colorful and sparkly.  Sometimes they have special designs.  Some of them light up the sky, and others are like…little bursts of bright light and sound.  And fireworks displays always have a grand finale and it’s just…I can’t explain it, but it’s awesome!”

“How precisely do they work?” Killian asked.  “One lights a fuse and there is an explosion, aye, that I understand, but how do such explosions result in different formations and colors?”

“They just…do,” Henry said, with a little shrug.  “I don’t know how it works.  I just know it’s amazing.”

“I believe I shall consult Mr. Google, then, lad,” Killian said.  “I find it far preferable to understand the mechanisms of my entertainment.”

Of course he did.  Emma should have known.  It had been two weeks after they’d moved in together before they could have their first family movie night because Killian insisted on researching what movies were, how they were made, how they were projected on screen, and how thin, circular discs inserted in a machine could cause said movies to appear on the “moving picture box”.

Her husband was a full-fledged nerd.  A hot one, for sure, but a nerd nonetheless.

“Yes, Killian,” Emma said, coming back to the present and laying her head on her husband’s shoulder.  “I’m sure everything is totally safe.  Leroy’s got everything organized.  Just relax and enjoy the show.”

“I shall attempt to do so,” Killian said, “but I fail to see how colorful lights can elicit as much excitement as you and the lad…ooooooh!”

Emma giggled as the first firework—a large one that changed color from red to white to blue, lit up the Storybrooke night sky.  Killian looked up at the display in wonder, his eyes wide as saucers, a soft, boyish smile draping his face.

Sometimes she looked up at him and it just overwhelmed her all over again how much she loved him.  Now was one of those times.  She felt the tears come to her eyes, and Killian looked down at her in concern.  As usual, he could sense her moods.

“Is all well, Swan?” he asked in concern, reaching up to catch the single tear that fell from her eye.

“It’s more than alright, Killian,” Emma said.  “It’s perfect.  All of this is perfect.  I just love you so much, and I love our life together, and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but life is just about perfect right now.”

He smiled tenderly, and leaned in to kiss her, but just before their lips connected, another firework went off, and Killian turned back to the light display.  Emma smiled, laying her head once again on his shoulder as Henry wandered off to find Violet and watch the show with her.

The fireworks went on and on, and as they moved closer to the grand finale, Emma heard one of the dwarfs (she thought it was Happy’s job?) start the music.  It had been decided that they would end the fireworks display with the 1812 overture, complete with the big finale coming during the cannon fire in the music.

Of course, as soon as it had been decided, Killian had gone to the library and pestered Belle for any information she could give him about the piece of music.

“The customs of this land are incomprehensible, love,” Killian had said that night as he helped her make dinner.  “Why is it customary for this ‘1812 Overture’ to be played at celebrations of this country’s founding?  The founding did not happen in 1812, but a generation before.  What’s more, the piece was written to commemorate an event that has nothing to do with the United States.  That Tchaikovsky fellow wrote the piece to commemorate the moment the Russians defeated Napoleon in his attempts to take over Russia. (Incidentally, is it only me, love, or does this Napoleon sound significantly like the Crocodile?  Small in stature, lust for power, dreams of world domination…)”

“I really don’t know why the 1812 is so popular,” Emma said as she carefully pulled a casserole from the oven.  “It just…is.”

“And it’s full of nationalistic anachronisms,” Killian had continued.

“What’s full of…what?” Henry asked, filching a roll from the bread dish and sitting at the table.

Emma rolled her eyes.  “Your step-dad was about to explain about all the nationalistic anachronisms (whatever those are) in ‘The 1812 Overture’.”

“Quite so,” Killian said.  “The piece features the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, for example, but in 1812, the song had been banned by Napoleon (the total ponce).  Furthermore, the piece utilizes the Russian anthem ‘God Save the Tsar’ near the end, but it had not yet been written as of 1812.  Not much of a historian, this Tchaikovsky.”

Henry groaned.  “Mom, I think we need to ban him from the library.  I already have to suffer through history lessons in school.  Don’t need them when I get home, too.”

A particularly loud volley of fireworks brought Emma back to the present.

“So, are you enjoying your first 4th of July?” Emma asked.

“It’s been quite enjoyable, Swan,” Killian said, “but then any day I get to spend with you and the lad is.”

Emma’s nerves began dancing within her stomach (or was that just the nausea again).  The moment was just about here.  As soon as she’d learned the news from Whale, she’d decided she’d tell Killian just at the climax of the fireworks show.  She wanted to make this moment special.

She just hoped he was as excited about the news as she was.  They hadn’t talked much about it.  This wasn’t something they’d planned; it had just sort of…happened.  What if this wasn’t what he wanted?

“Anything the matter, Swan?” Killian asked just as the cannon began to boom in the music.

“No,” Emma said, taking a deep breath.  “Something’s actually pretty great.  At least I hope you think it is.  I mean, I do, but we haven’t talked about it and…”

“Swan,” Killian said, looking more concerned than ever, “out with it, love.”

Emma took a deep breath, and then leaned in and whispered in his ear.  “Killian, in about 7 ½ months you’re going to be a daddy again.”

His eyes got round again, as he sat up abruptly.  “A father?  I’m to be a father?  You’re with child?”

She smiled tremulously.  “Yeah, Whale thinks I’m about 6 weeks along.  Are you…are you happy about it?  I mean I know we haven’t really discussed it and this is a surprise and…”

He cut her off with a swift, passionate kiss, his hand moving to rest on her still flat belly.  When he pulled back, there were tears in his eyes.  “How can you even ask that, Swan?  Of bloody course I’m happy.  A baby!  A product of our love!  I do believe my life is now absolutely perfect!”

Emma leaned over and kissed him again, the tears streaming from her eyes as overhead the fireworks celebrated right along with the Savior and her Pirate.

[princess-and-the-swan]

Hi, I'm looking for a Storybrooke AU fic. I remember that Zeleana cursed everyone to not have their happy endings. Somehow Killian and Henry escaped the curse and Killian can communicate with Emma through their dreams. Emma is married to Walsh who has her heart. Snow and Charming are married but hate each other. Regina is maid.

I remember reading this one a while back! I think this might be what you're looking for:

MC Fic Rec: Their Way By Moonlight

By @wistfulcynic | Rating: M

A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and rescue the town from a new and dangerous foe.

Read it on AO3

[whorcruxes]

The Same Heart Under a Different Moon Chapter Two

Preview

They lifted their swords at once, circling one another. Emma was uncertain if he would actually strike her first, if he was just like any other man who was fearful of hurting a lady. So, she lunged at him almost immediately, taking away that moment of indecision. His eyebrows raised in shock as he parried her aggressive, but not altogether well thought out attack. They carried on like this. Her attacking and him defending the blow. The ring of metal echoed through the gardens and the courtyard and attracted a crowd. They did not notice, still wrapped up in each other, in their own little dance.

Read on AO3

[ohmightydevviepuu]

fanbinding: the sword and the heart

and the last but certainly not the least of what i've been calling the masha collection, after the incredible inspiration that is @mariakov81 and her support and talent and fandom: The Sword and the Heart.

full season 5 divergence written for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020 (@cssns) by me and by @thisonesatellite.

half-letter folio--binding method: coptic covers with coptic/french link stitch combination. black thread for the ~aesthetic~

paper: neenah cougar cream vellum 70# text weight covers: giclee print on hahnemuhle william turner 310 gsm, sealed with archival modpodge

title page by @mariakov81 (hand drawn pen and ink) title graphics by me, using art from medesulda cover calligraphy by @thisonesatellite

[overlordofthelollipopguild]

Trying Something New: Chapter 2: The Healer and the Thief -- a Captain Swan, Once Upon a Time fanfiction

Summary: 

After Rumplestiltskin traps Emma and Killian in the past, they manage to escape him and realize they will have to live in the past in order to catch up to the future.

Read on fanfiction.net or AO3 or below.

Note: Remember that Emma and Killian have given themselves the aliases of Emily and Colin, and they told Marian that her name was Maria. So any POVs that aren't Killian or Emma with an exception or two, will call them Colin and Emily and Maria. I know it will be confusing for a bit, but that's partly why I chose names so close to their actual names, not just to help Emma and Killian remember but to help readers as well.

For my own sanity, Marian's POVs the narration still calls her Marian, but she will call herself Maria. 

Also, while I was writing the muse went wild and decided to bring in a character from a certain kingdom that I wasn't prepared for. 

And the muse decided Killian's new backstory, not me. I don't know why I let the muse out of the kennel, because she always goes wild. 

Hope you guys enjoy. 

Chapter 2: The Healer and the Thief

When they arrived in town, Killian led them to an inn further away from the docks where it wasn’t all that busy. The small inn looked quite cozy with its brick facade and warm light shining through the windows. 

He opened the door for Emma and Marian, allowing them to enter first. 

Emma was relieved to be inside where it was warm and where she was one step closer to a bed. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could’ve spent walking, even with Killian's support. She felt like a freight train hit her and she'd collapse at any moment. 

The late fall chill was settling in and soon enough winter would be coming. Emma hoped they’d be back home by then if she could get that stupid wand to actually work. 

“May I help you?” An older woman with a kind smile, but sharp brown eyes, looked at them from behind round glasses. 

“Yes, milady.” Killian stepped forward with a charming smile. “My wife,” he motioned to Emma, “our companion,” he motioned to Marian, “and I were all traveling on our way to your lovely town when our horses were stolen.”

The old woman’s eyes widened. “Oh my dears, I’m so sorry to hear that.” 

Killian played his part well as he asked her for two rooms; one for Marian and one for them. 

The older woman looked at Emma softly, clearly pleased that a young, newly married couple (according to Killian’s story) were planning on making Marawick Harbor their home. As Killian laid on the charm, Emma smiled small and shy, acting the part of the blushing bride. Honestly, she was too tired to try to speak and add to their act.  

Marian smiled as well, but with her memories gone, she wasn’t too confident in her interactions. 

“Of course, dear.” The old lady smiled a little bigger. “I’m Mrs. Wright. How long will you three be staying with us?”

“Well, we’ll be here for a while.” Killian said. “It might take some time to find more permanent lodgings.”

“Oh how wonderful.” Mrs. Wright smiled. “Since you don’t know how long you’ll stay, perhaps pay for five days and should you find more permanent lodgings before then, you’ll be reimbursed.”

“A lovely idea.” Killian said. “I’ll be paying for both rooms. Poor Maria here lost the most in the robbery. She helped us when we needed it, so it’s only fair to return the favor.”

Emma looked around as the prices were discussed and the room paid for; it was very clean and tidy, which gave her hopes for their room. It was then that Emma realized a flaw in the marriage plan. They’d be getting one room which very likely would have just one bed. Even if it was a big bed, it was still one bed. They’d slept near each other before, camping out in the Enchanted Forest and Neverland, but this would be different. They’d be in closer quarters for one thing. He’d probably be a gentleman and take the floor, but having slept in worse places, Emma didn’t want him to suffer a full five nights or longer if they couldn’t find a place to live. 

“Ready, my love?” Killian asked, turning to her. 

Marian was already following Mrs. Wright up the stairs. 

Emma smiled and took his arm again. Her heart skipped hearing the “my” before love, but she knew that it was just for show for the old lady. Of course, he had feelings for her, but he couldn’t love her so soon? Well, all right, they’d known each other for over a year and a half, but the better part of it they were separated and she hadn’t even remembered him. 

They were led to a room on the second floor, the lady unlocked one for Marian and then the one across the hall for them. One key went to Marian and the other to Killian. “A hot bath will be brought up shortly for both of you young ladies.”

Emma and Marian both thanked her. When Mrs. Wright disappeared, Emma stepped towards Marian. “I could heal your head if you’d like.” Really Emma felt obligated to since they caused her head injury, but she wasn't sure if she could stand to use more magic. 

Marian shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. Besides, you’ve done so much for me already. Both of you. I don’t even know where to begin thanking you.”

“No need to worry about it.” Killian reassured her. 

Marian smiled before entering her own bedroom. 

“So what do we do now?” Emma asked once they were ensconced in the sanctuary of their private room. Emma unbuttoned her cape, glancing at the single bed at the center of the room. It looked to be about full sized. That would be close sleeping quarters. Emma draped her cape over the back of the armchair by the fire, which was low, but still burning. She ignored the singular bed for now, moving instead to sit in the armchair in front of the fireplace. It was a great relief to sit down. 

“Well, if we’ve learned anything on this adventure, we can’t mess with the main timeline.” Killian said, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace. “So best thing to do is stay low. We’ll need to find work and a place to live since we don’t know how long we’ll be here. Marawick is a busy port, but it’s far from your parents and Regina.” He explained. “I can guarantee my crew only docked here in emergencies, and since we know my ship, should that happen, we can easily avoid that.” 

“Okay.” Emma nodded. “What job is low profile?” 

“What skills do you have?” Killian asked. 

“Well, I’m a former thief, waitress, bail bonds person, and sheriff.” Emma said. “I doubt the Enchanted Forest has many female law enforcement officers.”

“Well the military is the law.” Killian said. “But you’re not wrong. Female soldiers are unheard of. I’m not sure about waitresses, but a barmaid might be too risky, especially if someone we knew or my past self showed up.”

Emma could agree with that. In her time, bar brawls were a constant, so she expected taverns in this day and age would be full of fights that would draw way too much attention. “So that leaves me with nothing.” 

“We’ll figure it out, Swan.” Killian reassured her. “We just have to stick together.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like that.”

His heart stuttered a bit in surprise before he smiled shyly at her.

Emma’s own heart skipped a beat. They were interrupted by a knock on the door. 

Hurrying over to the door, Killian opened it to find maids with the bath. Once it was settled and they were given towels, rags, and soap, the women asked if anything else was needed. 

“No, thank you.” Emma smiled, allowing Killian to usher the maids away.

Killian set up the privacy screen. “I can leave if you’d like.” 

“The privacy screen is enough.” Emma said, walking behind it. She saw Killian’s silhouette through it due to the firelight behind him. She watched him sit in the armchair, which had its back to Emma. As she took off her clothes, hanging them up, she realized that they didn’t have clothes for bed. With how much magic she used today, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to use it anymore. “What about you?” Emma asked, making conversation to distract herself from that line of thought.

“I can live without one.” Killian said. He took a seat in another armchair and closed his eyes. It had been quite an exhausting couple of days. 

“Why don’t you use the bath after me? I’ll be quick so the water will be warm.” Emma suggested as she soaped herself up. 

“Don’t worry about me, love.” Killian said. “Also, soap in this time isn’t used in hair. You’ll have to use hair oil. Over there on the vanity.” 

Emma glanced over towards the vanity where there were a few bottles of oil, a hairbrush, a comb, a hand mirror, and other items sat ready for use. “Killian, we can both take a bath. We both need it.”

Killian wasn’t too sure about that. Then he looked over at the bed. The lone bed. That was an easy enough fix. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

A huff of frustration left Emma over the subject change. Why was he being so stubborn? “We’re adults, Jones. We can responsibly share a bed.”

He sighed, sensing that they’d only end up arguing more about it if he didn’t concede. Maybe she’d fall asleep first and he could sneak onto the floor. It probably wouldn’t effect her as much as it would him for them to share a bed together anyway. “Fine.”

Emma knew the conversation wasn't over and he was still going to fight her on this, but Emma was tired enough to take whatever victories she could get. Sinking into the warm, steaming water, Emma bit back a moan of pleasure. It wouldn’t do to make sex sounds in mixed company, particularly company she knew would enjoy hearing those sounds. Despite the warm water, thinking about sex and Killian in the same go sent a thrill down her spine. Stop it, Emma. Come on, you can’t think about this. When you get back home and things settle down, then you and Killian can have a long talk. 

Emma continued to lather herself up, trying to dismiss the man from her thoughts, despite him being only feet away. 

Killian stared into the fire, desperately trying to block out the sounds of water splashing behind him. The last thing he needed was picturing Emma naked and wet. Shaking his head, he thought about the next steps that needed to be taken. They needed more clothes. Emma couldn’t keep conjuring things or transforming items. She was hiding it, but he could tell that her magic was draining her. Perhaps in the morning, they could go to a tailor and order some clothes. He’d also have to give some money to Marian as she was as much his responsibility now as Emma, even if he felt Emma was his priority above all else. 

He walked over to where he left his coat and took it back to the armchair. Going through his pockets, he emptied everything out onto a small circular table beside the armchair just to double check how much he had after paying for the rooms in advance. A handful of gold and silver coins, which would last them awhile. Various jewelry pieces with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and opals. Those would fetch a good price. He’d probably use up the coin they had while job and house hunting and save the jewelry for emergencies. He returned everything to his pockets and realized the room was silent. He looked over at the privacy screen. “Emma?” 

There was no answer. 

“Emma?” He called again. When there was still no answer, Killian hesitated, but he had a feeling she’d fallen asleep. Carefully, he peaked around the screen, trying not to see anything he shouldn’t. As he looked, he saw Emma was asleep, her head bent back over the tub rim, hair cascading out. Knowing how tired she was, he was loathed to wake her, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to get her out of bath without her consent. He walked over, kneeling next to the tub. Reaching out his hand, he gently shook her exposed shoulder with his hand. “Emma, love, wake up.”

It took a few more shakes and calling her name for her eyes to flutter open. “Killian?” 

“You fell asleep in the tub.” Killian explained. He stepped away and grabbed a towel as Emma moved to sit up. He held it out for her, diverting his eyes. 

Emma sleepily stood up in the tub and took the towel from Killian, shakily wrapping it around her body. She swayed a bit as the fog of sleep refused to clear. Damn, her magic took more out of her than she thought.

Realizing that Emma was still tired, Killian held his hand and fake hand out to her. “Here, love.”

Emma took his hand and allowed him to hook his arm around her to help her out of the tub. “Thanks.” As she steadied herself, she looked up at him. “We don’t have sleeping clothes.”

And she was too tired to conjure any. Killian understood her meaning. “Go ahead and dry off. You can sleep in my shirt.”

Emma nodded and walked over to the bed. 

Killian quickly unbuttoned his vest and hung it up, before pulling off his shirt. He walked over to find Emma sitting on the bed, wrapped in her towel. “Here you are.” He set the shirt beside her and turned away. 

Quickly Emma shrugged on the shirt over the towel. She stood up, straightening the shirt, and dropping the towel to the floor. She pulled back the covers and fell into the bed, letting sleep claim her once more. 

Killian turned after a few minutes and saw Emma passed out, the covers haphazardly over her. His brows drew together with concern. He shouldn’t have pushed her to use her magic so much when she wasn’t used to it. Walking over to her, Killian properly tucked her in before taking his own bath. The water was lukewarm, but that was fine. At least he’d get clean. Once he was done, he took a throw blanket and the other pillow and made a pallet on the floor. It wasn’t comfortable, but he’d slept on worse. Finally letting the days catch up to him, Killian let his exhaustion take over and he soon fell asleep. 

****************************

After her bath, Marian realized since they were robbed, she had no other clothes. She dried off and decided to sleep in her tunic and undergarments. There was no money on her, so she wasn’t going to be able to buy much of anything without a job. 

Colin had been too kind to pay for her room for the week; he and Emily both did so much for her that she felt she could never repay them. 

Still, her lack of memory didn’t sit well with her. Her head ached, but it dull now. Colin and Emily looked so surprised at her amnesia that Marian doubted they were involved. They’d been so kind she doubted there was anything nefarious motivating them to help her. 

But why could’t she remember anything? Even her own name eluded her until Colin told her it was Maria. Her name didn’t feel quite right, but if that’s the name they knew, surely it had to be her name? Who was Maria though? Where was she from? Why had she been on her way to Marawick Harbor? Did she have family here? Or had she left family behind her?

It was all so confusing and overwhelming. 

Dressing for bed, Marian tried hard to think of anything. What was her mother’s name? Her father’s? Did she have any siblings? Aunts? Uncles?

Nothing came to her. Her mind filled with absolute nothingness.

She fell into bed, her dull ache pounding as her mind fought to uncover its secrets. 

Tears filled her eyes as a deep sense of pain and loneliness overcame her. No one knew who she was, not really, and she had no memory of those who knew her. Colin and Emily, kind as they were, were strangers. Even they admitted they’d only just met her on their travels; likely they’d known her for a day or two at most. 

Why had she been traveling alone before? Perhaps she was independent and stubborn. Had she decided to go out on her own? Had she left a home behind to forge a new path?

Her pillow muffled her sobs as Marian allowed the emotions of the day to possess her. 

****************************

He was up before the sun, still feeling exhaustion in his bones. Pushing himself up, Killian looked up at the bed from his position on the floor, finding Emma still asleep. Good, she deserved rest after everything that she’d been through. Unfortunately, that also meant that he couldn’t get his shirt back just yet. He hoped to get some things done this morning, but he didn’t want to wake her. Perhaps he could don his vest and coat, but that would get him some strange stares. It wasn't cold enough to have his coat fully buttoned up. No, he’d just have to wait until Emma awoke. 

Killian rose from the floor and stretched away the soreness from the past few days and sleeping on the floor. After a good stretch, he went over to where the water pitcher was and poured a glass. Leaning against the dresser, he watched Emma sleep while he drank the water. Sometime in the middle of the night, she moved to the middle of the bed, her arm stretched out over one side. Her face was relaxed in sleep, not peaceful, but at least open and unguarded. It was a nice sight to see. One day, he hoped to see her unguarded in her conscience state as well. 

He wondered if Marian was doing all right. Before they headed out into town, he’d need to give her some money to buy herself some things. While they had to look out for Marian, Killian wished he could keep his focus on Emma. Even though Marian had no memories, surely some things from her life still stuck with her, but Emma was completely new to this world and he had to help her learn. It would be hard to help her with Marian around and not raise Marian’s suspicions. 

When he finished his water, he perused the room for something to do. There were a few books, but nothing piqued his interest, so he chose to sit in the armchair. Once Emma was awake, they’d dress and get Marian and then get some breakfast. Then they’d get clothes and much needed items. After that, permanent lodgings would be a priority. Jobs would be another matter. Since this was a port town, perhaps he could be a fisherman or find some job on the docks. Those were the ones he was best qualified for. For Emma, that would be a little harder. Marian was another story altogether. 

They agreed a barmaid was too risky for Emma. There weren’t truly any jobs that her bail bonds or sheriff skills would be of use. It truly was unfortunate how limited jobs for women were in the Enchanted Forest. There had to be something that Emma could do. Though they wouldn’t know what jobs were even available until they ventured out in the town.

He watched the sun rise through the window of the inn, lost in thought as his mind turned to ways to return to their future. Rumplestiltskin wasn’t a viable option, but Killian didn’t know much of other sorcerers or witches around who could help. They still had the wand, of course, but Emma hadn’t gotten it to work. He wasn’t sure if Rumplestiltskin had been lying or not, but if he’d been telling the truth and Emma’s magic was back, then why hadn’t it worked? What was keeping them here?

As the morning sun rose higher, Killian's attention returned to Emma. Concerned that she wasn't waking, he walked over to the bed, sitting at her side. Gently, Killian brushed a few errant locks away from her face. "Emma?" 

No response. She was breathing; her chest rising and falling steadily. 

That was a relief, but Killian wondered if her magic use had unintended consequences. "Emma, love, can you wake up for me?" 

Not even a groan or grumble left her. She was warm to the touch, but not feverish. She was sleeping, just not waking. 

There was a knock on their room door.

Killian silently cursed. Clearly her magic exhausted her, but it wasn't something he could explain to the maids. Not if they wanted to keep her magic secret. "Who is it?"

"It's Maria." Marian called through the door. 

Killian waked over to the door and opened it, pulling her inside, before shutting the door. 

Marian registered that he was shirtless and tensed up. "Now just wait a minute, you cannot just manhandle..."

"I know, I'm sorry." Killian said, cutting her off. "Emily isn't waking up." He headed back towards the bed, not sure what to do. 

"What do you mean she's not waking up?" Marian followed him, concerned. 

"I think she used too much magic." It was the only thing Killian could think of for Emma's state. "She's not use to using it so much."

Guilt settled in Marian's gut. Hadn't she pushed Emily to use her magic? "What can I do to help?"

Killian brushed his hand against Emma's cheek. He figured she'd be all right for now if she was just sleeping off the ill effects, though Killian worried about just how long Emma would stay like this. "For now, I don't think there's anything we can do." He turned to Marian. "I need to go around town and get some things done. Since we didn't have sleeping clothes, Emily borrowed my shirt. Can you help me change her into her undergarments?" 

Marian nodded, walking over to the vanity where Killian folded up Emma's clothes the night before. 

Killian leaned over Emma and whispered. "Forgive me love. I'll be on my best behavior." His joke fell flat even for him. 

When Marian brought Emma's undergarments and tunic over, they worked together to undress her and redress her, Killian keeping his touch as light and noninvasive as possible without causing suspicion. After all, he was meant to be Emma's husband. This wasn't supposed to be the first time he ever saw her fully unclothed. With Marian's help though, it was a quick process. 

"Could you stay here with her?" Killian asked Marian. "I know it's a lot to ask..."

"Not at all." Marian said. "You've done so much for me, this is the least I can do."

Killian nodded gratefully. He pulled on his shirt and began to fully dress for the day. "I don't know if a healer can help her, but I look around for one. I have other things to do, but I'll come check in when I can. If there are any changes, send someone for me." He ensured all of his coins and jewels were on him. Once he was ready, Killian couldn't help himself, he went back to Emma and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back, Swan." He whispered. "I promise you'll be all right." 

He turned to Marian. "Take care of her." 

"I will." Marian said, not sure exactly what she else she could do.

Killian left the room with a determined stride. He needed to find a healer, but not just any healer. He needed one who understood or had magic. Could he find one here? 

Mrs. Wright might know where to start. 

He headed down to the front desk. 

"Good morning, Mr. Jones." Mrs. Wright greeted. Then she saw his grim expression. "Is everything all right?"

"My wife seems to have fallen ill." Killian said. "Do you know where I can find a healer?"

"Oh yes," Mrs. Wright said. "There's a woman who lives near the docks. Vivienne Wilder. I'm not one to fall ill myself, but others say her touch is like magic."

Magic. That intrigued him. "Thank you, Mrs. Wright."

Now, he needed to find out if it was like magic or actual magic. 

****************************

“Oh leave me alone.” An old man growled at the young woman standing before him. His scowl deepened the wrinkles on his pale face. One milky blue eye didn’t see ahead of him, while the other glared at Vivienne Wilder, the resident healer of the Wharf.

Vivienne, who looked in her twenties, sported long black hair in a tight bun. Sepia skin stood out underneath her pale yellow top, and her brown corset and skirts were plain. Sharp dark eyes rested under an arched brow. “Mr. Holbrook, I need to check your ankle.”

“Grandpa.” A young red-haired girl of about ten poked the older man in the shoulder. “Let Miss Vivienne take a look. Grandma says it’s been bothering you.”

“I don’t need no healer.” Mr. Holbrook huffed. “Me ankle is just fine.”

His granddaughter shook her head and spoke to the healer. “Grandma says he’s been limping for days now. Thinks he pulled something.”

“You hush now, Eileen.” Mr. Holbrook admonished. “I can move around just fine.”

“Mr. Holbrook, are you in pain or is your ankle just causing discomfort?” Vivienne asked, deciding to ignore his cantankerousness. 

Holbrook huffed. “It’s just fine I tell you.”

Vivienne shook her head. “Fine. If it’s causing true pain I suggest drinking a cup of ginger tea in the morning and at night.” She handed a vial of oil to Eileen. “Also, rub rosemary oil along the ankle every night and wrap it in a cold compress.” 

“How much for the oil?” Eileen asked.

Vivienne smiled. “No charge this time, but if he’s still having problems, let me know.”

“I ain’t having problems.” Holbrook grumbled. 

Vivienne shook her head and walked away. Mr. Holbrook would come around; he was just old and stubborn. She needed to see to other patients. While she'd lived in Marawick Harbor for just over a year, it took time to earn trust and build up her reputation. 

It wasn’t the first time she had to start over and she doubted it would be the last. There were times she missed home, of course, but going back wasn’t an option. 

As Vivienne turned up an alley, an old woman caught her eye. Wrap in a cloak of black, with silver hair framing her ancient features. 

The Crone’s grey eyes pierced Vivienne in place.

Vivienne curtsied. “Well met, Wise One.” 

“Well met, daughter.” The Crone said. “Lir’s son returns. He has the Light with him.” The Crone was never one to beat around the bush. 

Vivienne’s heart stopped for a long moment. “The older one or the younger one?” 

The Crone grinned showing crooked, yellowed teeth. “The younger one.”

“And he has a Savior with him?” Vivienne scoffed. She remembered him well. Always trailing after her and his brother. Unlike his brother, Lir’s younger son inherited the sea’s tempestuous nature. Leap first, think never. 

“Not just any Savior.” The Crone said. “The Savior. The one to finish what your father began.” 

Disbelief was a rather paltry term for what Vivienne felt in that moment. “The Savior?” It took a moment longer to compose herself. That’s why the Crone was here. “You need something of me?”

“The Savior is untrained. Reckless with her magic.” The Crone said. Her ancient eyes looked Vivienne up and down. “You’ll have to do.” 

“Me?” It didn’t take long for her to understand. “Me? You want me to train the Savior in the craft?” 

“It isn’t as though your father is available.” The Crone lamented. 

Of course, she’d prefer it if he was. Vivienne thought bitterly. Her father was The Sorcerer after all. “What of Lir’s son?” 

“He remembers nothing.” The Crone shrugged. “That is for the best. He’d be much more dangerous if he did.” The old woman stepped forward, looking Vivienne straight in the eye. “Train the Savior, and you will be rewarded.” Then she disappeared in a swirl of mist. 

“Fuck.” Vivienne cursed. The last person she wanted to deal with was Killian Jones. 

****************************

His eyes searched the market for a new mark. Sure, he got proper work once in a while being a lamplighter or a courier ever so often, but Dodger couldn’t let his skills get rusty. 

Any thief worth their salt kept perfecting their art. 

A new face to market caught Dodger’s attention. Average looking fellow, with a thick beard. His clothes were rather nice. A determined stride told Dodger the man was on a mission, which meant he’d be too focused on his goal to pay much attention. 

Dodger used the alleys to get ahead of the man. It looked as though the man was headed in the direction of the docks, so Dodger hurried along in between buildings, coming out near the end of the market, closer to the Wharf end. 

He was now in front of his mark, watching the man walk through patrons with ease. Dodger pretended to be looking at stalls as he made his way towards his mark. Passing by closely, Dodger’s feather light touch fished a few coins out of the man’s pocket. 

Smirking at his success, Dodger didn’t expect a hand on his arm, jerking him back. 

Fierce blue eyes glared at him. “I’ll have my coins back, if you please.” 

His mark marked him. Great. Okay, time to play the innocent victim. 

“I beg your pardon, sir.” Dodger’s offended act was instinct. Even as he looked at the man, sensing danger, he thought maybe he could keep it up. After all, how dangerous could this posh bloke be? "Whatever do you mean?"

The man rolled his eyes. “I don’t have times for games. Hand over the coins and I won’t alert the authorities.” He held out his hand expectantly. 

Dodger stepped back to put distance between them. “Good sir, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about." He needed to convince this man that he was wrong; if he left now, the man would alert the soldiers, and Dodger hadn't gotten caught in Marawick yet, but he didn't have the means to leave the city. 

The man smirked and Dodger's blood ran cold. Calculating anger filled blue eyes. Dodger swallowed. You sure know how to pick 'em, Dodge. 

"Perhaps you didn't hear me clearly." The man stepped closer, hand grabbing Dodger's arm in a vice grip. "I've no time to mess about. Give me my coins, and I won't gut you like a codfish and leave you here for the vultures to pick apart."

Something in the man's eyes made Dodger believe his threats. Unassuming as the man was when Dodger marked him, this man was far from unassuming now. Dodger debated for a moment longer; run or give in. Though he doubt he'd be running from this man for long. He handed the coins over. 

"Thank you," The man grinned tightly before walking off. 

Dodger watched him go, an intense curiosity filling him. Just who was that man?

Don't do it, Dodge. He told himself. Leave it be.

Ah hell, he was the Artful Dodger. When did he ever leave well enough alone?

Dodger kept to the shadows as he followed the man into the Wharf. 

****************************

Emma woke up in a meadow of pink flowers. The sun shone through the canopy of trees, birds chirped, but the world felt as though it was covered in haze. 

"Killian?" Emma called out. Where was he? Where was the inn? She remembered being in the bath and then briefly Killian helping her out. 

She was fairly certain that she fell asleep in a bed. "Killian?" She slowly stood up, looking around at her surroundings. 

"He isn't here." A man spoke, appearing out of nowhere. 

Emma stepped back. "Who the hell are you?"

The man appeared young, in his late twenties or early thirties, it was hard to tell. He was dressed in a thick, brocade shirt, underneath a brown leather tunic vest, and brown pants. His dark brown eyes felt ancient as they looked her over. "I'm Merlin." He said simply.

Emma stared him down as she processed that. "Bullshit."

Merlin grinned. "You're parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, you've met the Evil Queen, Rumplestiltskin, Peter Pan, and your lover is Captain Hook, but Merlin existing is a stretch?"

"Hook isn't my..." Emma shook her head. "Never mind. So what, Camelot and Excalibur are real too?"

"Indeed they are." Merlin smirked knowingly. "But they are also concerns for another time. Right now, I'm more concerned about your appearance here."

"Where is here?" Emma asked. 

"The Astral Realm." Merlin said. "A plane of existence in between living and dead." He motioned to the meadow around them. "This is the Middlemist Meadow of Camelot. I used to tutor my students here. It's a place I find calming. You see, I'm in between life and death myself, trapped for eternity. This is my piece of home." Merlin focused on Emma. "It worries me that the Savior is here."

"I'm not dying, am I?" Emma asked, fear gripping at her heart. She didn't want to die without seeing her family or Killian again. 

"Depends on how you came to be here." Merlin said. "What happened, Miss Swan?"

"Uh, well, it's a long story." Emma said. 

Merlin smiled patiently, a paternal air about him. It made Emma wonder just how old he truly was. "I have plenty of time." He sat down amongst the flowers and beckoned Emma to join him. 

Warily, Emma joined him, uncertain about whether or not to trust him. Even so, she briefly explained her plight leaving out some details here and there she didn't deem necessary, but explaining about the time travel and her overuse of magic. 

"Ah, so you've been training under the Evil Queen." Merlin said. 

Emma hadn't mentioned that. "How did you know that?" Her eyes narrowed as she leaned away from him.

"The Astral Realm transcends realms." Merlin said. "I can be anywhere, any time, and watch anyone."

"Creepy." Emma huffed. 

Merlin shrugged. "It's useful. I've seen Storybrooke and I'm aware that Regina and the Dark One are the only two people you could learn magic from. Considering your magic is the antithesis to the Dark One, he certainly would never teach you. That leaves Regina, and she isn't one to actually sit you down and explain things."

"You're right about that." Emma said. "So what is happening to me?"

"You're fine." Merlin said. "You're in Healing Sleep."

"What is Healing Sleep?" Emma asked. 

"Magic drains the system." Merlin began. "Regina uses magic all the time, so she's built up a tolerance to the drain. More than that, she also isn't very powerful and limited on how much magic she can expend, so even if she felt the drain, it wouldn't cause total exhaustion. There are certain beings, demigods, products of True Love such as yourself, elves, true sorcerers, who have so much power that it's harder to control. You aren't limited on how much magic you can use like Regina is, which means you can overdraw your power. Thus causing Magical Fatigue. Healing Sleep happens when you over use your magic to the point your body forces you to rest in order to refill your magical reserves."

Disbelief overcame her. "Wait, I have unlimited magic?" 

"No, you have a higher limit of how much magic you can use." Merlin explained patiently. "True Love is the most powerful magic of all, but you don't have the same benefits of other species, who have power. You're still a mortal, you still bleed, and you will fatigue. Even after training and building up your tolerance, you would still need to watch how much magic you call upon." 

"Okay, well, I'm stuck in the past for the next four years," Emma sighed. "I'll need to learn this stuff. I just need to wake up first."

"Fate already has a teacher in mind." Merlin smiled. "You'll meet her soon. As for waking up, well, depending on your body's recovery time and how much magic you used, you could be asleep for days, or weeks, or..."

"Don't finish that sentence." Emma glared. "If you're some great sorcerer, why can't you teach me?"

"I'm indisposed at the moment." Merlin said. "You can only meet me in the Astral Realm, but it's dangerous to spend too much time here if you're a novice. It likes to play tricks sometimes, which means if you aren't careful to spot them, your soul could move on into the Afterlife."

Definitely want to avoid that. Emma thought. "Is there a way to speed up this sleep?"

Merlin's infernal knowing grin returned. "You'll learn in due time. Until then, rest and enjoy the Middlemist." 

****************************

Marian ate only a little of the soup the maid brought up for her and Emily. She told the maid that Emily was just sleeping off her illness, and she hoped she was right. Emily was still breathing, and she was warm. Nothing seemed amiss other than Emily would not wake. 

Marian attempted to wake her for lunch, but the blonde woman didn't react. Not a mumble from her lips, not a flutter of her eyes. 

She worried that Emily might not ever wake up. Colin was convinced that her magic had something to do with this, and he would know better being Emily's husband. Marian wondered if this was common. She wasn't surprised by magic existing, though her memories were gone, so surely magic was commonplace.

Why then did Colin and Emily want to hide Emily's magic? Was magic good to have, or was it dark? Colin and Emily didn't seem like bad people, and Emily's magic seemed so helpful.

Could she really trust these strangers after all? Or was it better to move on, and try to rebuild her life on her own? Her gut said Colin and Emily didn't mean any harm, but they also didn't know her. Should she try and find out who she was? Should she ask them if she mentioned where she was from and why she was moving here?

It was just strange that everything was gone. Even her dreams were hazy images, but nothing indicating her past. 

Marian sighed, pushing away her half eaten soup. She glanced where Emily lay, sleeping peacefully, wishing she could sleep just as well. "Why can't I remember?" She whispered to the silence around her. She looked at her hands. There were callouses, light as they were, so she was used to work off some sort. 

But what work? Did she do cleaning? Was she a barmaid? A seamstress? That was just another thing to figure out. Once Colin returned and she knew Emily was going to be all right, Marian needed to go into town and figure out just what to do next. She couldn't rely on them forever. It was time to figure out what little she could and go from there. 

Starting with a job. 

****************************

Killian waited outside a boarding house, where he was told the healer currently was checking on a patient. He hoped this Vivienne could help him. He figured someone with magic would be better, but perhaps the healer knew someone who could help with their situation. 

He just wanted Emma to be all right. He couldn't let anything happen to her, not when he promised to get her home. Not when he needed her safe and happy for his own sanity. 

A young woman with black hair exited the building, a basket of herbs, potions, and poultices in hand. 

Killian pushed off the wall of the house across the street and put himself in her path. "Excuse me, Miss?" 

The healer froze at his voice before turning to face him. Oddly, her dark eyes recognized him. 

An uneasy feeling settled over him. Had Emma unintentional glamoured the face of someone from around here? He doubted it. 

The woman glared at him. “How can I help you sir?” Her defensive stance had Killian backing up a bit.

He wasn't sure why she didn't like him, but he wasn't going to chance pissing her off more than she already was, not when he needed her help. “So sorry to bother you.” Killian smiled gently. “My name is Colin Jones. My wife and I recently moved to town.”

Surprise flickered over her expression. Vivienne relaxed a bit, realizing Killian truly didn't seem to remember her. Though she was confused about the wife part. The Savior couldn't be his wife, could she? That was a dangerous match if that was the case. As it was, the Savior needed to work on her glamour spell. It worked well for non-magical people, but if Vivienne could see through it, then so could the Dark One, or others a might more powerful. This close to the sea, it would be better to disguise Lir's son as strongly as possible. "And why am I interested in this information?"

"I heard you're the healer in town. My wife fell ill on our travels." Killian said. "I hoped you'd come look at her. She's not waking up."

His concern for the Savior was genuine. What did he mean by her not waking up? 

Vivienne wanted to tell him no and go back to her rounds, but the Crone wanted her to teach the Savior. It seemed that for the time being Killian and the Savior were a package deal. Vivienne would deal with that later. "Does she have a fever?"

Killian shook his head. "No, she's warm, but not feverish." Killian glanced around and slowly stepped closer, careful not to crowd her. "What do you know about magic?"

"Enough." Vivienne challenged. There was no way she'd give away her hand. Not to him. "Why?"

"Because my wife has magic." Killian spoke lowly as to not be overheard. "I think she used too much of it." He looked at her imploringly. 

Here's where Killian not having his memories hampered him. He'd been one of her father's best students, all the more why Vivienne disliked him, and now he had to come to her for basic magical knowledge. She'd feel smug if she didn't hate him so much. 

Alas, she had to teach the Savior, so she'd have to suffer Jones all over again. "All right, take me to her and I shall see what I can do."

His immense relief was palpable. "Thank you, miss."

"Vivienne." She introduced. "Vivienne Wilder."

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "And All the Trimmings"

These next couple of weeks, I'm going to highlight the Thanksgiving fics I have written over the years. I've always loved the holiday, and there aren't enough fics for it (in my humble opinion) so I've tried to create a few at various times along the way. This one is some Thanksgiving fluff written during 5B as I anxiously hoped for them to return from the Underworld with their hero party still intact and a pirate in tow. Nods to CS, Snowing, and OQ in here; Thanksgiving is a whole family holiday after all! ;p  Anyway, I think that’s it, other than it obviously being canon divergent now, since things did not pan out nearly so happily upon their return from Underbrooke.  Still, enjoy – and please let me know what you think if you’re so inclined!

**Also available on ff.net or AO3, as a part of my one shots collection "Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts**

by: @snowbellewells

“Charming?” his lovely wife’s voice rings brightly from the loft’s small kitchen right into the erstwhile Prince of the Enchanted Forest’s ears as he bustles through the door of their apartment, arms full of groceries and cheeks red from the first deep chill and frost of the year. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Snow, I’m back!” he calls, bemused smile quirking up one side of his mouth. A chuckle escapes David Nolan’s throat at how happy and excited his Princess sounds. Setting his purchases on the table until he can hang his coat back on its peg, he shakes his head with affectionate good humor and goes to meet her in the kitchen.

If he’s honest with himself, David is nearly as anxious and thrilled as Snow. After all, their entire family, with all its odd, extended members, will soon be gathered here with them for the first Thanksgiving holiday they have celebrated together. His heart swells at the very idea – even if at the same time he has to simply hope the whole thing will really manage to go off without a hitch…or any bloodshed.

“Looking for these?” he asks with happy teasing in his voice as he enters the kitchen, sets the several plastic bags from the market on the counter, and leans over the center island to plant a kiss on Snow’s upturned lips.

“Yep,” she chirps, beaming at him as they part and reaching in to begin unpacking, “I was.”

Charming moves back into the front dining area, preparing the table and making sure they have enough chairs, seeing that the candles and centerpieces Snows wants are out, and letting her get back to her cooking in the meantime. Between the homemade noodles, green beans, and the mashed potatoes and gravy his wife has simmering all at once, Charming is impressed she can keep everything going without setting anything on fire, much less have the whole apartment smelling good enough to make him drool, and he certainly doesn’t want to distract her from it. No matter how long they have been married, or what realm they find themselves in, it doesn’t take long for Snow to prove that she will never cease to surprise and amaze him.

He has just stepped back to survey his handiwork proudly when the doorbell rings. Swiftly moving forward to answer it before Snow comes running, Charming’s smile grows even wider as Henry bursts into the room, greeting him enthusiastically and launching right into a story of their hectic morning. He is followed by Roland, who is practically bouncing up and down, vibrating with rambunctious energy, his deep dimples cracking wide across his face. After their two boys come Robin and Regina, each laden with items that Charming attempts to help take off their hands.

Robin hands over the delectably scented and delicious-looking turkey, beaming proudly as he gives a nod toward the perfectly crisped and golden brown bird on the platter, which has clearly been charmed in some way by Regina to stay warm and ready to place on the table. “Caught it myself, Mate,” Robin says. “Should be a good one.”

Charming sets the turkey on the long dining table he has just finished with, then claps his friend on the shoulder and ushers him in. “I’m sure it will be. Thanks,” he answers.

Robin slings an insulated bag off his shoulder and holds it forward as well. “Regina’s apple tarts,” he explains with both a mischievous smile and a shrug of feigned innocence. The former thief knows the rest of the family’s understandable aversion to the fruit, but he also somewhat adores his beloved’s rather twisted sense of humor and refusal to shy away from her past by making a dish that highlights the difference in her now and just how far she has come. With a wink, he tacks on, “Taste tested them myself, and they’re irresistible.”

The archer moves past, on into the loft to greet Snow and to catch and corral his young son. Regina raises a sculpted brow at David as she enters after Robin, their new little girl sleeping cradled in her arms and a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Though David knows all too well that having a newborn in the home can be harrying, the formerly evil Queen looks as completely polished and put together as always – not a hair out of place. “Charming,” she greets with a wry nod, somehow managing to inject even the simplest hello with her trademark dry sarcasm. They may be on the same side now, fumbling towards being a truly non-dysfunctional family, but he somehow feels that her half-mocking way of using the name Snow gave him will never change, and perhaps – in Regina’s own way – it is meant as an endearment.

Peeking into the layers of lavender blanket bundled around Robin and Regina’s little daughter to shield her from the biting wind outside, Charming can’t help a soft grin at the sweet, perfect infant sleeping peacefully, the softest wisps of russet curls on her little head and her soft, pale pink skin. “She’s lovely, Regina,” he murmurs in quiet awe, not wanting to rouse little Mariana, and feeling a flood of affection for this woman who once hunted he and Snow, wanting both of their heads, but who also saved Snow’s life as a child, and has clawed her way back from the bottom to right her wrongs.

Before he can close the door behind her, Emma and Killian come tramping up the hall stairs, cheeks flushed and both laughing at some unknown joke between them, but greeting him heartily as they see that he is standing there watching. Emma reaches David first, falling into her dad’s arms and returning his hug exuberantly before reaching back to pull Killian in as well when he hesitates, effectively sandwiching herself between the two of them in a three-way hug. The laugh that rings from his daughter’s throat, light and open and at last free of the guilt and pain she had been saddled with for too long, is all David needs to be as grateful this Thanksgiving as at any he can remember.

“Thanks Dad,” Emma mumbles almost bashfully when she does ease back and both she and her pirate boyfriend pull away. They follow him into the house, their food contributions in hand.

“Aye, thank you for having us, Mate,” Killian adds with a dip of his chin as they all step through the door and he shuts it behind himself. He offers his love’s father a genuine smile when their gazes meet, Emma having busied herself with hanging up their jackets and removing her boots. For a moment, David is frozen in place, forcibly reminded of how Killian had looked just a few weeks before, when they had found him in the black depths of the Underworld. As long as any of them live, David fears the sight of Killian Jones which had greeted them beyond the Veil would be hauntingly branded on their souls. Chained to a dank stone wall in the furthest recesses of Hades’ domain, the shade of a pirate that they’d found was not the dashing rapscallion they knew. Though bearing his torment in stoic silence, he had been emaciated and shivering, the dark rings under his eyes clearly showing that Killian had known no sleep nor peace since he left their world. The rest of the rescue party had stood horrified as Emma fell to her knees before him, tears pouring down her face while she reached out to cup his bearded cheeks in her hands. Worse than all that though had been the blank, almost unseeing despair in blue eyes that had always been so full of life; the vacancy in their depths no longer seemed like Killian at all and had truly made their blood run cold.

To see that spark back in Jones’ smiling gaze, and the dark bruises beneath his eyes fading, reminds David forcibly just how much they do have to celebrate before he clears his throat to respond with hoarse emotion. “Of course. We’re glad to have everyone. Snow’s really trying to outdo herself.”

Without further ado, David soon finds his family gathered around the table, talking, laughing and reveling in the warmth and happiness of the occasion. There is good natured ribbing at Emma’s continued inability to cook and a playful debate over whether or not the bottoms of several of the butter horn rolls she had made were more burnt than a nice golden brown. Mariana wakes from her nap and begins to gurgle and coo at everyone she can see gathered around her. Snow gushes over the pecan pie that Emma grudgingly admits Killian had made, complete with perfectly crimped edges of crust and an ornate little ‘KJ’ carved into the crunchy sugared top. “Figures,” Charming hears his daughter grumble with teasing chagrin, “He can cook circles around me with only one hand.”

Snow is quick to assure her daughter that she will get better with practice, but Killian only smirks at Emma, looking entirely as though he wants her to either smack or kiss the grin off his face. “Well, I had to sign such artwork, Swan,” he counters playfully. “You might have tried to take credit for it otherwise.”

The whole table laughs and carries on, but is quickly more absorbed in eating than talking, just comfortable in each other’s presence and enjoying a quiet moment. David looks to the other end of the long table and catches Snow’s eye, perfectly understanding the misty look he finds there. This was all either of them had ever wanted: a family, all together, happy and safe. It is what they had sacrificed so much for their best chance at preserving. He smiles at his True Love, marveling that two other pairs of True Loves sit in this very room with them, and tucks into his own meal at last. Now that they have all found each other, this family has every blessing it could possibly need.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @sotangledupinit @anmylica @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @bluewildcatfanatic @winterbaby89 @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @scientificapricot

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"Wishing it Wasn't" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 9/18: Reflections Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: General Word Count: (1.1K/19.5K) Summary: Season 2 Canon Divergence: When Neal tells Emma he has a fiancée, she claims to have a new boyfriend of her own, and blurts out the first fairytale name she can think of: Captain Hook. Killian agrees to this ruse, but when feelings grow between the two, will the con be more than they can handle? Chapter Summary: Emma and Killian separately reflect on their evening together. Tags: season 2, canon divergence, gun violence in later chapters, angst with a happy ending, fake dating, mild character death, mildly anti neal Author's notes: >:} Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza @pawshapedheart [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

 "Thanks for everything." Emma said, parking the car by the docks.

 "My pleasure." He hadn't looked at her since she kissed him, and he wasn't breaking that streak now.

 He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for his door, but she hit the auto door lock before he could, trying to smooth things out before he left.

 "Hook," She said softly, placing her hand on his arm, "I shouldn't have done that, should I have?"

 "What?" He asked.

 "I shouldn't've kissed you." Emma said. "I crossed a line. I'm sorry."

 "We did what we set out to do, Swan." He said, and he slightly twisted his arm out of her grip. "You've sufficiently proven to Neal that he made the wrong choice."

 "Right." Emma said. She unlocked his car door. "Want me to walk you back to your ship?"

 "I think I can manage."

 "Oh, your jacket." Emma said, almost forgetting she was wearing it for how natural it felt to be wearing it.

 "Keep it 'til tomorrow." He said. "Give it back to me when they're around."

 It seemed like a good plan, but he said it so deadpan, monotone, almost upset- not nearly the same man he'd been twenty minutes ago.

 "Alright." Emma said. "Goodnight, Killian."

 "Goodnight." He said, almost coldly, not even bracketing it with a "Swan," or a "love," or even an "Emma."

 Without another word, he left the car, left Emma sitting there, alone with her thoughts. They'd done what they wanted to do- they'd made Neal jealous, they'd kept up the ruse, they'd proven she's just as well off without him.

 But the problem was she'd had fun doing it. She actually had a great time that night, once or twice even forgetting that their date was just fake. But then at the end, should she really have kissed him, just to make Neal jealous? Even if that didn't cross the line, kissing him again after she knew they were gone? That definitely did.

 But Emma had to remind herself this is Captain Hook. His reputation preceded him- rumors floating around said he knew the names of the bar wenches in every port in the realm, that he'd never met a girl who didn't succumb to his charm, that he went through women faster than he did bottles of rum- and she knew how quickly he burned through bottles of rum.

 She watched in her rearview mirror as he walked back down the docks, onto his invisible ship, and disappeared from view.

 Had David been right? Had she neglected to be careful with Killian's emotions? He seemed like he was really enjoying himself with her- until she kissed him, that was.

 She pulled his jacket just a bit tighter around her shoulders.

 "That kiss was awful for him." She thought, her mind racing but the town standing still. "Why shouldn't it be? He's a pirate. He doesn't care about me. He doesn't like me. Because if he did, why would he get so upset when I kissed him?"

 The only reason she saw that he had to be so upset by her kiss was if he didn't feel the same way about her. He'd flirted with her because he flirts with everyone, he'd pretend courted her tonight so she didn't throw him in jail, and, much like many men she'd met, he would only follow his interests in her to the brink of commitment- anything more than that would be too much for him- and Emma had started to cross that line.

 She sighed as she eventually started the car.

 "David was right." Emma thought. "I played with fire and I got burned."

 She tried to shift her focus to other things- Cora and Regina being in town, the stranger who'd come in just before she left, trying to keep the secrets of the town from him, and from Tamara.

 But still, that little voice in the back of her head was antagonizing, berating her, bogging her down with insecurities, reminding herself of her place, her place as the only woman in all the realms who could scare off the notorious Captain Hook.

---

 "Does she know she's the only thing on my mind right now?" The notorious Captain Hook thought as he watched her drive away from his vantage point on The Jolly Roger. He was thankful she couldn't see him, that she hadn't been able to see how he'd turned back to watch her as soon as he was cloaked, how he stayed there until she'd disappeared too.

 He looked up at the sky as he walked the gangplank, hoping to take familiar comfort in the constellations he often used to navigate- then remembered he was in a land with entirely different stars.

 Everything in this land felt different, in an almost intimidating way. Hard roads designed to be used by vehicles that move so fast they can break a rib. Deep fried seafood. Food that comes in pre packaged boxes. Short jackets, short skirts- not that they were a bad thing, of course, just not quite what he was used to.

 And yet, whenever he was with Swan, he couldn't help but feel like he was used to her. There was something about her that felt so safe to him, like a harbor, like The Jolly Roger, like….

 He put his head in his hands as he sat on the steps to the forecastle deck.

 There was something about Emma Swan that felt like a home.

 He sighed as he pulled out his flask, knowing that no matter how he saw her, it couldn't change how she saw him.

 "I'm just a pirate in her eyes." Killian thought. "I'm just a means to an end. She's just using me to get to Neal."

 Killian had a hard time reconciling in his mind that the man he'd sat across from in the restaurant was the same kid who'd once stood on the deck of his ship, threatening Killian's life when he thought he was the one who'd killed Milah.

 "What's become of you, Baelfire?" Killian whispered. "Where's that kid who just wanted to be a hero?

 All that Baelfire ever wanted was a family- and as much as Killian tried to deny it, he really was the one who tore apart Bae's first family. He felt like he owed it to that boy he once knew to not wreck his chances this time, that if an opportunity came up for Emma and Henry to be Neal's family again, that he owed that much to him, just a fighting chance, without a devilishly handsome pirate standing in the way.

 "It's better that way." Killian thought. "Swan deserves better than me."

 And he looked up at the unfamiliar stars, he found himself silently hoping that Neal could be that man for her.

[stahlop]

All of Me (loves all of you)

Merry Christmas @cosette141​! Here is your Christmas gift from your Secret Santa! I had so much fun writing this little fix it, canon divergence piece for you. I know season 4a is one of your favorites and I just happen to be in the middle of reviewing that season, so it worked out perfectly! I hope you enjoy it.

Thank you to @xarandomdreamx​ for being my beta

And thank you to the Captain Swan Secret Santa for putting this on again!

Rated: T

Ao3 Link

Emma slammed her bug into park and started beating on the steering wheel. The words of the Snow Queen echoed through her mind.

The only way this ends is you embracing who you are.

But Emma had embraced who she was. Wasn’t that why the wand had worked in the past? Wasn’t that why she had wanted to stay in Storybrooke? Because she was embracing who she was? She just needed to get her stupid powers under control, and without Regina’s help she just couldn’t get a grasp on them. 

Right now, she just needed a place to hide.

As if her magic understood her need, her hands sparked and her car went back into drive and started driving itself. 

“Great,” Emma sighed to herself. “Just like the Ford Anglia in Harry Potter.”

It deposited her in front of Gold’s cabin in the middle of the woods. The last time she’d been here he’d been beating the crap out of Mo French. She hoped it had been cleaned since then.

She slammed the car door as she got out, putting her red leather jacket back on to ward off the chill. She didn’t even bother checking if the door was locked, her magic automatically opening it for her.

“That would’ve been useful when I was younger,” she murmured to herself. The place was spotless. Definitely been cleaned up since the Mo French incident. Emma wondered if Gold even remembered he owned this place. It didn’t look like anyone had used it at all. Everything was in perfect order. No rumpled bed sheets, nothing in the sink, not even any wear on the sofa. However, there did happen to be a thin layer of dust over everything. Emma found a roll of paper towels, tore off a piece, and started dusting the cabin. She was already beginning to feel calmer. 

—-----

Henry had never been so thankful that driving in the woods had to be done slowly. After the debacle with his mom, he’d hid while he saw the encounter with the Snow Queen. He hated how the Snow Queen could get under his mom’s skin so easily, especially as he’d seen his mom go up against his mother without any regard for the consequences. What was it that made her think the Snow Queen was worse than the Evil Queen had been?

He watched as the car drove itself through the winding roads and managed to catch a glimpse of it as it stopped in front of a cabin in the woods. He wasn’t sure who it belonged to, but he was sure someone back at the loft would know. 

He followed the road back into town and ran to the loft. He could hear his grandparents, Killian, and Elsa arguing from outside the door about continuing to look for Emma some more.

“Perhaps she doesn’t want to be found.” Killian said, quite angrily, though Henry could tell he was also worried. “Since, you know, that’s what she bloody told us!” They may have only started dating, but Henry liked how concerned he was about his mom, and that he wanted to give her the space she’d requested.

“Well,” David began, “the good news is, thanks to the ice wall, Emma can’t leave town.” Henry scoffed. Of course Grandpa was only concerned about whether his mom would leave. Not whether she was okay or what she was feeling.

“The longer she isolates herself, the worse it’ll get. Her magic will just keep spiraling,” Henry heard Elsa say. It almost made him run right back to the woods to try and talk to her again. “When your powers are out of control, everything’s upside down, and you don’t want to be anywhere near the people you care about,” Elsa continued. 

“Wonderful,” Killian said with a sarcastic tone Henry knew he used when he was trying to cover up his own feelings. “Well, should we send Sneezy after her, or Happy? Which is the dwarf she despises?” Henry silently chuckled at Killians words, making his head throb and probably bleed more from his most recent encounter with his mom in the woods. But he continued to listen to what was being said.

“I was so scared that I would hurt Anna until I finally realized you can’t run away from the people who love you, because in the end they’re the only ones who can help you.” Elsa finished. His grandparents began arguing again about what was best for Emma, but Henry took Elsa’s words to heart. He needed to send someone who could get through to his mom, who loved his mom, not someone who would just talk at her. 

He took a minute to psych himself up before opening the door, just in time to hear David say “then we go out and find our daughter. Okay?”

“You don’t have to look anymore.” The adults all looked shocked to see him come through the door. Which, to be fair, he was supposed to have been sleeping upstairs. He absentmindedly put his hand to his injured head (he silently cursed himself for upsetting his mom enough that she accidentally had a burst of magic and hurt him, something she was trying so hard to not do) and pulled back his hand with spots of blood on it.

“What happened?” David asked concerned.

“Look, I’m sorry I snuck out, but I found her.” All the adults looked at him in awe. He tried not to let it go to his head, knowing he’d found her when the rest of his family couldn’t. His grandparents began talking over each other to find out how she was, but all Henry was concerned about was Killian’s reaction. He looked…relieved, yet he still didn’t ask any questions. He knew Henry would answer them in his own time. He was exactly who Henry needed to send after his mom. He’d be the only one who could get through to her.

“I’d really like someone to look at this head injury I’ve managed to get,” Henry said, focusing his attention on Killian as he said it. Killian looked at Henry, his eyebrows raised in question, which he then quickly schooled and nodded in agreement.  Luckily, his mom wasn’t the only person Killian could read like a book.

“I’ll take the lad and get him cleaned up.” Killian said before anyone else could volunteer. Henry quickly steered him to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You have to go to my mom!” Henry said, turning to face Killian. He expected to see relief on his face, but instead he saw something more conflicted. 

“I don’t think your mother wants to see me, lad,” his face dropped, looking hopeless. He gestured to the cabinet; Henry quickly took out the medical supplies to keep up the pretext. Killian wet a small hand towel and motioned for Henry to turn so he could get a better look at the wound.

“You’re wrong!” Henry said adamantly, then winced as Killian wiped away the blood with the towel. “You heard what Elsa said, isolating herself will only make it worse. She’s at Gold’s cabin in the woods.” He tried to turn toward Killian but he kept him facing away from him. “Do you know where that is?”

“Aye, lad, I do.” Killian sounded almost resigned, like he still wasn’t sure if he should go. Henry finally wrenched from his grip and turned around. 

“She’s scared and she’s afraid she’ll hurt someone. She just needs someone to reassure her that her magic isn’t bad. That it’s part of her. It’s like Elsa said, she needs someone who loves her..”

Killian looked shocked. Henry wondered if he’d overstepped. Despite the fact that Killian had been trying to court his mom for a few months now, they’d only started dating. Killian tilted his head down, not looking at Henry’s eyes.

“It’s that obvious, is it?” He let out a shaky breath. Henry didn’t think he’d ever seen him so vulnerable. The great Captain Hook worried that Henry knew he loved his mom.

“Well, mom’s oblivious, as usual. Or maybe she’s just using her magic as an excuse. You know how skittish she gets.” Killian gave a wry chuckle. “But you need to go. I think you’re the only one who’ll be able to get through to her. You actually listen to her. My grandparents are great, but they’re scared of her, whether they want to admit it or not.” Killian nodded in agreement. He fished out some gauze from the medical supplies Henry had brought out with a small piece of medical tape and affixed it onto Henry’s wound.

“Tis merely a scratch,” Killian gave Henry a small smile and stroked his hair. Henry understood the significance of this gesture - it was fatherly in nature. Another reason Henry knew he could trust him.

“Are you sure you know where Gold’s cabin is?” Henry wasn’t sure he’d be able to find it again.

Killian nodded. “Aye, lad. I’ve traipsed through these woods enough, I’ve got a good lay of the land. I didn’t realize the cabin belonged to the Crocodile.” He made to leave the bathroom, but turned back toward Henry. “Are you sure she’ll be alright with me going to her? I’m trying hard to respect her boundaries.” His face dropped in concern. Never did Henry think he’d feel sorry for Captain Hook.

“I think you’re the only one she will see. Though knowing mom, she’ll fight you at first. Killian smiled.

“Well, it wouldn’t be me and your mum if we weren’t fighting, would it?” A grin spread over Killian’s face and Henry thought maybe everything would be alright.

“I’ll distract the rest of them for as long as I can.” Henry said, returning the medical supplies to the cabinet he’d got them from. “You sneak out and get to mom.” Killian nodded his head in agreement.

Henry slipped back to the rest of the group. Mary Margaret started fussing over his head while David gave him a light reprimand for leaving the loft when they told him not to. Mary Margaret insisted on making something to eat since they’d all be out all night. They could use some rest before Henry told them where Emma was. As David had pointed out earlier, it’s not like she could leave town with the ice wall around it. 

Henry could see Killian patting down his jacket and pants pockets. “Bloody Hell! I’ve left my talking phone in the back of your truck.” He announced though no one seemed to be paying attention. Mary Margaret was showing Elsa how the stove worked as she also gathered ingredients for pancakes. David was pacing around, most likely trying to decide what they should do after they’d refueled and recharged.

“It’s just called a phone.” David responded mechanically, watching as Killian headed for the door to retrieve it.

“What an impractical name. I’ll be back in two shakes.” Henry observed Killian go out the door, everyone else still too absorbed in what they were doing. Killian gave a quick, awkward wink to Henry - he knew Killian would not be back in two shakes.

—---

The calm Emma had been feeling immediately dissipated once she finished dusting. With nothing left to do with her hands, the sparking had started up once again. She sat on the edge of the couch staring at her hands, willing them to go back to normal. But the doubt rapidly crept in.

She’d hurt Henry. 

She’d hurt her father and almost hurt Killian. 

The look on her mother’s face.

How could they want to be around her after that?

How could she act like everything was normal after that?

Maybe Ingrid was right and she was a monster.

“You are nothing of the sort, love.” Emma looked up to see Killian leaning on the open door frame, his signature smirk overtaking his face. She wasn’t sure if she was glad or scared to see him.

“Did I say that out loud?” Killian nodded in the affirmative. Emma could tell he was being cautious. Usually he would say ‘aye’ and it would sound incredibly sexy. But she could see his casual smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and their usual blue was closer to a stormy gray. It would be upsetting if it wasn’t….sweet.

“How’d you find me?’ Emma asked warily. She could already feel the sparks in her fingertips coming to life as if a lightning storm was on its way.

“Henry.” 

Emma’s hands went to hips. “I drove here!” She said incredulously. Killian just shrugged. She didn’t really know what to do with that. She loved Henry and she’d hurt him. She couldn’t risk hurting Killian too. It still amazed her that calling him Killian came as easily as drinking water after calling him Hook for so long. She’d known, logically, that his name wasn’t Hook. She’d called him Killian when he took care of Henry, before his memory had come back, but that had almost been like a role he was playing. The part of Captain Hook will be played by Killian Jones. And she’d called him Killian when Gold and Zelena had almost killed him and she’d lost her magic. Even after he got his hook back, he was now just Killian. But this person in front of her, the one trying so hard to give a casual indifference, she wasn’t sure who this was. He didn’t have the flirtiness of Hook or the undying devotion of Killian. 

“Your family is worried about you, love. At least give them a call and let them know you’re alright.” Emma sighed. “Henry’s fine, by the way. Just a scratch.” He added. Emma pinched her face, already having forgotten about her altercation with Henry in the woods. The Snow Queen had come after that and then everything had been a blur. 

“God, I’m the worst mother in the world.” She cried, sitting herself back on the couch, her head in her hands.

“No, love. You just have a great deal many distractions going on.” He took a small step inside the cabin. “Have you eaten?” Emma turned to see he held a bag from Granny’s. “Bear claws and a hot chocolate, just the way you like it.” He smiled, a real smile this time. One that actually made his eyes crinkle in that way that Emma knew he’d seen a lot in his lifetime, but also made him look sexy. As if on cue, her stomach growled. Killian took that as a sign that he could come inside and sit next to her on the couch. He passed her the bag and she took it gingerly, still afraid of what her magic might do, but it seemed to have calmed down with the prospect of food.

Silence permeated the room as she ate. The only sound they could hear was the wind whistling through the trees outside. How had they gone from dates and kisses and letting him in about her past, to this uncomfortable silence? This was not who they were. They were all flirtations, and banter, and heated glares. Emma didn’t like it at all. 

She was about to say something, anything, when the door slammed shut. They both turned to look and then saw heavy snow falling outside the windows.

“Crap!” She ran over to the slammed door and pulled it open. Within the few minutes it had taken to eat, there was already nearly an inch of snow on the ground, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. Big, fat, fluffy flakes were falling at an alarming rate. “Crap!” She yelled again. “Killian, we’ve got to get back to town!” Killian shook his head.

“We can’t drive in this, Emma!” The wind had picked up and was now howling around them, her hair whipping around her face. “Get back in the cabin.” Emma wanted to scream at him that they needed to leave, but at the pace the snow was coming down, she knew he was right. They’d be trapped and at the mercy of the elements. She nodded and ran back inside with Killian following close behind.

“Think you can light a fire for us?” He asked, nodding to the pile of wood near the fireplace. Emma looked at her hands, fearful for a moment that she might put a hole in the cabin like she did the sheriff station (she really hoped Regina could magic that back together ASAP), instead, she concentrated on the wood Killian was placing in the fire. She closed her eyes, and then hoped for the best.

“Good job, Swan! I knew you could do it!” Emma opened her eyes to see the fire spark to life and Killian grinning like a fool. The expression on his face was so infectious, she felt a grin spread across her face too. Killian was looking at her in awe. “Come here, Swan.” he beckoned her to him with a gesture of his hand. Emma took it and suddenly he was kissing her. 

As someone who had initiated most of their kisses, Emma felt slightly out of control when Killian would kiss her first. She’d only been in one relationship where the other person kissed her first and it made her feel wild and out of control. She hated feeling like that now. But the more Killian kissed her, his lips caressing hers gently, the more safe she felt. The more she felt seen. The more she felt treasured (and that was saying a lot considering he was a pirate). She pulled away at that revelation. Killian’s eyes were still closed and instead of opening them to look at her, he leaned his head forward so that his forehead touched hers. It felt more intimate than the kiss they had shared, and it made Emma extremely uncomfortable, even though she didn’t want to feel that way.

“Emma…” Killian’s voice almost sounded broken, like he was afraid she would tell him it was a one time thing again, which was ridiculous since they were….dating. But at the same time, Emma could see why he might think that. Or maybe she was overthinking things. Looking for an excuse so that she wouldn’t be too hurt when he decided to end things. Except…she didn’t think Killian would ever want to end things. And she wasn’t sure which scared her more, him wanting to leave her or him never wanting to leave her, so she decided to deflect instead.

She took a step back from him. “This isn’t a regular snowstorm. I think this is the Snow Queen.” Emma said as she headed toward the window. In the short time that she and Killian had been together, there seemed to already be a foot or two of snow on the ground.

“I gathered that, love, seeing as it’s too early for snow storms of this caliber, even being this far north.” She arched an eyebrow at him regarding his knowledge about Maine’s seasons, and he gave her a smile back. Maybe her fears were just that - fears. Why else would he change his entire wardrobe, hang out with her family, and learn about Storybrooke if he wasn’t planning on sticking around?

“She wasn’t happy about me not wanting to be her sister. She keeps trying to convince me that no one can love me with my magic. From what Elsa told me, magic isn’t abundant in Arendelle. People are afraid of it there, so I’m guessing the Snow Queen has some traumatic backstory that makes her think she knows everything there is to know about how people feel about magic.” Killian nodded, waiting for her to continue. That was something she’d never had, someone who actually listened to her. When she was younger she’d just been some dumb kid. And now her parents were too busy with their own traumas and trying to finally raise a child from birth. Well, Emma really couldn’t blame them for wanting that. That feeling of finding out she hadn’t raised Henry when she got her memories back was devastating. The fact that Regina basically gave her a do over, well, at least she still had those false memories to hold onto. Emma realized she’d gone off on a tangent in her head. Killian was still expectantly waiting for her to go on.

“She keeps calling me a monster, which I’m not. I have saved people with my magic.” She was angry now, which did nothing to keep the sparks at bay.

“I can attest to that, Swan. Without your magic, I’d be without my shadow, dead on Neverland. Or killed by a giant icicle that the Snow Queen conjured up.” Killian walked over to her because she’d apparently been pacing in front of the window as more and more flakes floated to the ground. It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t a threat from the Snow Queen. He took her hands in his and Emma was afraid that her magic would hurt him like it did Henry, but he didn’t even seem to notice it. “I’m a fan of every part of you. That includes your magic. You wouldn’t be the woman I’ve been chasing after without it.” He kissed the knuckles on both hands, which in the past would have made her squirm (in a good and bad way), but in this instance, it only reassured her. And because Emma couldn’t think of anything as poetic to say in return, she pulled him close and kissed him.

Their bodies melded into one as they walked over toward the small bed set up in the corner of the cabin. Emma certainly hadn’t expected this turn of events to happen tonight, but she couldn’t say she was sorry about it. Except when her knees hit the frame and she sat down, Killian did not follow her down, her lips chasing his as he backed away. He stayed standing and looked at her with something akin to fear behind his eyes.

“Before this goes any further, Emma, I have something to confess.”

—---

Killian hadn’t expected the day to take this turn. He’d come here to talk to Emma, to convince her to come back to the loft, and maybe convince her that everything the Snow Queen was saying to her was a load of rubbish. He hadn’t thought that things would lead to a bed. And despite having been a pirate for hundreds of years and having many a man’s wife, he didn’t want to do this with Emma with this secret hanging over his head.

Emma was staring at him, her face still flushed from their heated kiss. He was nervous, a feeling he hadn’t had since he became a pirate and raided his first ship. He was positive this was even more nerve wracking than that, because revealing his deal with Gold and what he’d been compelled to do might make Emma hate him. And while he could deal with any assortment of emotions from Emma, hate was the one that would undo him.

“I’m afraid I’ve been lying to you,” he began. Killian could see Emma’s face immediately fall, but he knew he had to get this out if he wanted any type of future with her. “Gold has been lying to Belle about the dagger. He gave her a fake, and I knew, so I blackmailed him. It’s how Elsa and I found the Snow Queen in the forest, and then how I got my hand returned to me for our date.” He was staring at the floorboards of the cabin as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointed look on Emma’s face, so he soldiered on and continued his tale. “Gold blackmailed me into helping him. He has a hat that collects magic powers. He forced me to collect a magical old man that he had some vendetta against. He knew I’d do whatever it takes to be with you, and he used it against me.” Tears stung his eyes as he spit the words out as fast as he could so he could get everything out. “I just wanted to be a better man for you, Swan.” He dared to peek up at her at this point. Her expression was one he’d never seen before and that made his heart drop into his stomach. “But I failed. And now because of it, I might lose you. I’m sorry.” He knew his apology was probably worthless, but he also knew it had to be said. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, head still tilted toward the floor. It felt like hours though he knew it was most likely only seconds. He hadn’t realized his hand was clenched until he felt a warmth radiating around it. He looked  to see Emma holding his hand in hers. She didn’t look afraid, or upset, or filled with hatred, she looked concerned.

“Killian,” she breathed out a sigh. “You never have to be anyone but who you already are. I fell in love with Captain Hook, the pirate. You know I wanted you at the beanstalk and that’s why I left you up there. It wasn’t you I didn’t trust, it was myself. I…I’m not good with words like you are, but Killian Jones,” she moved directly into his line of sight so they could see eye to eye, “I love you.”

The world seemed to have gone silent after her declaration. Never in a million years would Killian have thought Emma would be the one to say ‘I love you’ first. He’d known from the first moment he’d met her that he could possibly fall for her, but his need to get revenge for Milah had still been too strong. It wasn’t until he saw how desperate she was to find her son and had offered his services in Neverland that he realized just how much he’d already fallen. And then, of course, after their first kiss and subsequent admission in the Echo Caves, he knew she was the one he would give up his revenge for. 

Emma’s eyes had a watery sheen to them and Killian realized he’d probably been in shock far longer than he intended to. He could feel the sparks emanating from her hands that were still holding his, though slightly looser. He wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t said anything back or due to her unpredictable magic.

“Emma Swan,” he said, grabbing her small hand in his larger one. “Make no mistake. I love you too. I just never thought you’d admit it first.” Killian chuckled and saw Emma’s shoulders relax at his admission. She melted into his chest and he brought his arms around her in an embrace. He was sure Emma could feel his heart racing and he couldn’t help but smile at that. They stayed that way for a few minutes, just feeling the warmth from each other, listening to the crackling of the fire and the wind from the snowstorm outside. 

“I think you help my magic.” Emma said so quietly that Killian almost thought he imagined she had spoken. She pulled away slowly, putting her hands up so they could both see that the sparks had disappeared. “Elsa told me her sister’s love helped her control magic, and I’ve noticed that when I’m around you I can control it better. Usually. Yesterday notwithstanding.” Killian nodded in understanding. Just like her powers to detect when someone is lying, all her powers seemed to go awry when she was overly stressed. Killian kissed the top of her head in reassurance.

“Emma, you love me. I never thought I’d find that again. I’m honored that our love helps you.” Emma smiled at his words before leading him back to the couch where they sat huddled together. Emma practiced her magic by floating logs onto the fire. She laughed as she did it with ease. 

After a few moments of contemplative reflection (and stolen kisses) in front of the fire, Emma finally addressed what Killian had confessed earlier. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you blackmailed Gold and then he blackmailed you right back.” Killian froze, but Emma snuggled in closer to him. “We can discuss it later. Right now, I just want to act like a normal couple sitting in front of a fire on a snowy day without thinking about Snow Queens and Dark Ones and magic fairytale nonsense.” Killian kissed her temple, smiling against her hair. Emma grabbed his hand and hook and brought it to her lap as she rested her head against his shoulder. 

The Snow Queen may have tried to convince his Swan that her magic made her a monster, but to Killian, her magic made her the most amazing woman he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing. He could only hope that whatever the Snow Queen threw at them next, that Emma used her love to defeat her. Killian vowed that he would stand by her no matter what because he knew Emma was his happy ending, the one, as a former villain, he never dared to hope he could ever have.

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@profdanglaisstuff​ @thisonesatellite​ @mariakov81​ @hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @jennjenn615​ @kmomof4​ @superchocovian​ @lfh1226-linda​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx​  @qualitycoffeethings​ @snowbellewells​ @courtorderedcake​ @klynn-stormz​ @tiganasummertree​ @therooksshiningknight @teamhook​ @deckerstarblanche​ @onceratheart18​ @the-darkdragonfly​​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​​ @earanemith​

[saptaincwan]

woke up. starvign for more cs fics please if you have recs. lmk,, 💗

[tomeandflickcorner]

Gonna try to work on the next chapter of Frozen in Darkness sometime this week. If anyone is willing to drop by my ask box or pm me with things they’d like to see happen before the story wraps up, it could help motivate me.

My OUAT fic series

Please forgive my little self-promotion, but I wanted to advertise my ‘There’s Always a Crisis’ series.  It’s basically my take on how the show could have gone if the Lost Year never happened and everyone was able to stay in Storybrooke at the end of the Neverland arc.

Rash Defamation-  After a day-long internal mediation, Emma decides to take a chance and see where a relationship with Hook could go. When she seeks him out to discuss the matter, she overhears something so upsetting, it threatens to even put an end to their friendship. The wedge between them could not have come at a worse time, as a new enemy has arrived Storybrooke. Season 3 canon divergence- Pan was defeated before he could cast his curse, and everyone was able to stay in Storybrooke. Part 1 of the ‘There’s Always a Crisis’ series (FF.net/A03)

Once Upon a Christmastime-  With the first Christmas in Storybrooke since the curse ended approaching, Mary Margret is determined to make sure the holiday is extra special for her reunited family. But when Roland goes missing with a nasty snowstorm on the rise, the festivities turn into a race against time to find him. Part 2 of the ‘There’s Always a Crisis’ series (FF.net/AO3)

Dreamwalkers- While off on the Enchanted Forest expedition, tasked with securing the items remaining in Rumpelstiltskin’s vault to ensure they won’t fall into the wrong hands, Belle is attacked by a dream demon and trapped in a perpetual sleep. In order to save her, Jefferson and Ruby seek the help of a powerful sorceress who states that the only hope of reviving their friend is if someone enters into Belle’s dream and defeat the demon from within the dream world. Part 3 of the ‘There’s Always a Crisis’ series (FF.net/AO3)

Male Bonding- Killian, Robin and Jefferson decide to take David out for a drink while the women are off having a day at the spa.  While this is set in the Rash Defamation universe, it can be read as a stand-alone story. (FF.net/AO3)

Anniversary-  A short Jefferson drabble I wrote in honor of Mad Hatter day (10/6)  Takes place in the Rash Defamation universe, and contains references to the graphic novel. (FF.net/AO3)

Frozen in Darkness- Just when it was looking as if the Nevengers could settle into an every-day life, they find themselves contending with two new arrivals within Storybrooke.  First, an amnesiac woman with a magical control over ice and snow.  Then a legendary but mysterious king, whose motives are shrouded in secrecy. Part 4 of the ‘There’s Always a Crisis’ series.  (FF.net/AO3)

[jrob64]

Exacting His Revenge - Chapter 1

It's an international holiday, also known as @kmomof4's birthday! This story has been floundering in my WiPs folder for months under the title 'Bad Boy Hook'. I finally decided to try to finish it for Krystal's birthday, even though she actually helped plot it out! I'm not finished writing the story yet. It will have 3 chapters and chapter 2 is nearly finished, so hopefully the rest of it will be posted soon. Happiest of birthdays, K!!!

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom.

Story Summary: When Hook sees an opportunity to finally get his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, he seizes it, putting him in the company of Emma Swan. A season 2 canon divergent story. 

Rating: T

Words: 6980

Also posted on ffn and A03

(Story found under the cut)

*********

Hook stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the dank wall of the dungeon containing the cell where Rumplestiltskin had once been imprisoned. He stared at the four women currently trapped there; or more accurately, he stared at Emma Swan, the woman who bested him twice in the last few days.

He refrained from snorting derisively as he listened to Cora taunt them, directing her venomous comments toward the dark haired woman who was somehow Emma’s mother. The Queen of Hearts was attempting to sound like a loving mother who just wanted to make her daughter Regina happy, but he knew better.

“...and now I’m going to give her the one thing she’s always wanted - your heart. Goodbye, Snow.”

Hook flinched as he watched Cora thrust her hand toward the other woman’s chest. When he saw the Swan girl push her mother out of the way, he dropped his arms and jerked forward, his own heart in his throat and sick despair in his gut. But before he could utter the warning that was on the tip of his tongue, Cora’s hand plunged into Emma’s chest.

Frozen in place - extremely unpleasant and unbidden memories parading themselves across his mind - he waited for the inevitable. He didn’t think he would be able to stand to watch the blonde’s heart get crushed and see her crumple lifelessly to the ground.

“Oh, you foolish girl!” Cora chided. “Don’t you know? Love is weakness.”

Hook’s eyes closed as he heard the unmistakable squelching sound of a heart being seized, but they popped open again when Cora’s gasp of disbelief reached his ears. She was tugging repeatedly, unable to extract the organ.

Suddenly, Emma straightened and stared straight into her adversary’s face. “No,” she stated, forcefully. “It’s strength.” The moment she uttered those words, Cora was thrown backwards by a stunning blast of magic.

Hook stood numbly, his jaw slack with shock. In his entire association with Cora, he had never seen anyone who could repel her magic. Yet here was the Swan girl, seemingly a complete novice in the practice of magic, completely knocking the witch off her feet. It was at that moment, Hook made the final decision of who would receive his allegiance.

Cora pushed herself to her feet with a curse, dramatically brushing the dust from her gown and glaring at Emma. “I should make you pay for that little stunt, but simply knowing you will die a slow death in the dungeon of your parents’ own castle is enough satisfaction for me.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she pivoted and swished past the pirate. “Come, Hook. We have everything we need to get to Storybrooke.” She said the last word pointedly, obviously knowing the pain her statement would inflict.

Hook watched her go, fingering the withered bean he pilfered from the giant. He took a step toward the cage as he considered giving it to the Swan girl, but thought better of it and placed it in his pocket instead. He just witnessed the powerful magic she had within her and had no doubt she would somehow be able to break them out of the cell.

Ignoring the pleas of the four women, he turned to follow Cora out of the dungeon, checking his hook to ensure it was securely locked into the brace. Moving stealthily, he came up behind her, hesitating only a second before plunging the appendage into her neck. His aim was true, puncturing the carotid artery. Cora stumbled and fell to her knees, clutching at the wound which was spraying the walls with her blood.

Kneeling beside his former ally, he plucked the compass and Aurora’s heart from the floor where she dropped them, and quickly located the vial containing the ashes of the magic wardrobe. Then, looking into her rapidly paling face, he stated, “My apologies, Your Majesty, but I find I am no longer in need of your services.”

Choking on her own blood, her answer came out as a gurgle. Her fingers clawed at the leather of his vest, desperately trying to cling to life, but to no avail. He watched the last flicker of light leave her eyes, then her lifeless body collapsed to the ground.

*********

Hook was waiting outside the castle when the four princesses came rushing out some time later. Aurora’s hand was covering her mouth, clearly queasy after seeing the grisly scene on her way out.

Emma stopped short when she spotted the pirate, lounging against the stone wall at the entrance of the dungeon as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “I’m assuming that’s your handiwork in there?”

“What, Cora?” he asked nonchalantly, making a show of polishing his hook with his sleeve. “Aye, it is.”

“Why did you kill her?” Mary Margaret asked. “Not that I’m complaining, but why did you do it?”

Hook slowly straightened up, taking his time before answering. “Cora was not to be trusted. I only worked with her because she appeared to provide the best opportunity for me to meet my objective, but now that is no longer the case.”

“So you found another way to get to Gold?” Emma asked.

“Indeed, I did.”

“Then why are you still here?” Mulan questioned.

“Because you lovelies are that other way.”

“Us?” Mary Margaret squeaked. “But we haven’t figured out a way to get back to Storybrooke yet.”

“I believe I have everything necessary to accomplish that,” Hook said, patting the satchel resting on his hip. “And I also have this,” he added, reaching into the bag to pull out Aurora’s red, glowing heart. He held it out to Emma, who took a step back.

“Why are you giving it to me?”

“Because it takes magic to return someone’s heart, Love.”

“But I…” Her voice trailed away.

“Have magic, Swan,” Hook continued her thought when it became clear she wouldn’t.

She squirmed under his penetrating gaze, her mind struggling to come to grips with the thought. Did she have magic? It was unbelievable! Then again, a week ago, she wouldn’t have believed she could slay a dragon or break a curse with True Love’s Kiss. But freaking Captain Hook was obviously convinced she did.

What even was her life?

“Please,” Aurora pleaded, interrupting Emma’s spiraling thoughts as she stepped in front of her. “Hook’s right. It has to be you.”

Emma stared at her disbelievingly for a few moments, then finally held out her hand for Hook to place the heart into it. Balancing it on her palm, her face tightened into a mask of determination before she thrust her hand forward, burying it in Aurora’s chest. The princess gasped, nearly doubling over, then straightened and beamed at Emma as she withdrew her hand. “You did it! Thank you!” she exclaimed.

Emma stood looking down at her hand with a slightly squeamish look on her face. “That is definitely something I hope I never have to do again.”

Aurora grabbed Emma and gave her a hug, before turning to Mulan. “We need to get back to Philip.”

Mulan glared at Hook with narrowed eyes. “Are you sure that’s wise? Snow and Emma might still need protection.”

“Do you really think I pose a threat to them when they are going to help me get my revenge?” he growled.

“Who’s to say you won’t kill them once you do?” Mulan countered. “You disposed of Cora once you didn’t need her anymore.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Aww, don’t tell me you had become fond of her.”

Mulan straightened her spine to stand at her full height. “Of course not! She was pure evil, but you killed her in cold blood.”

“You have no reason to fear for your friends’ lives.” He almost looked offended by Mulan’s words. “I don’t intend to harm them, but you saw what Cora tried to do to Snow White in there. She was the one who was going to enable her daughter to murder in cold blood. I was simply putting a stop to her reign of terror.”

“Look, I don’t really care who murdered who in cold blood,” Emma interjected. “I just want to get home to my son! Mulan, go with us or don’t, it doesn’t matter. Aurora, go find your prince. Hook, show me what you have in that bag and tell me how we can use it to get to Storybrooke.”

“There’s the tough lass I’ve come to know,” Hook smirked, lifting the flap on the satchel and reaching inside. “Compass and magic wardrobe ashes,” he recited, placing each of the items into Emma’s outstretched hands. “Cora’s theory was that the ashes could create a portal, but just in case she was wrong, I also have this.” Drawing the string containing the giant’s magic bean over his head, he let it swing at eye level between them.

“How is that supposed to help?” Snow asked. “It’s dried up, useless.”

“Ah, but the waters of Lake Nostos have regenerative properties. That’s where Cora and I were going before she met her…unfortunate demise.”

“That lake doesn’t have water in it anymore,” Snow said. “We…we needed it to save David’s mother, but it was completely dry because he had killed the siren who lived in it. Of course, she was trying to kill him first.”

Hook turned his eyes on Emma. “Cora said the lake could be restored with magic. That’s where you come in, Love.”

Emma stared wide-eyed at each of the four people surrounding her in turn. “I know nothing about how to use…” she paused and waved her hand around, having trouble actually saying the word, “...magic!”

Snow stepped in front of her daughter and grasped her upper arms. “You can do it, Emma! You said it yourself - love is strength. If you just concentrate on the love you have for Henry and how much you want to get back to him, I’m sure you will be able to make your magic work.”

Blowing out a long breath, Emma said, “Well, I guess I won’t know until I try.”

“Too right, lass,” Hook agreed. “Now, shall we be on our way? I have a crocodile to skin.”

After bidding goodbye to Aurora and Mulan, Hook led the way to Lake Nostos, attempting to engage Emma and Snow in conversation along the way. “So, tell me how the two of you are mother and daughter when you look to be nearly the same age. Have you been to Neverland where time stands still, Milady?” he asked Snow.

The two women exchanged glances. “It’s a long story,” Snow said.

“My schedule is pretty open right now,” Hook quipped.

“You were with Cora. Did she not tell you about the curse her daughter cast?” Snow asked.

“Ah, yes, of course. She did explain the significance of the wardrobe ashes. So, you were caught up in it and didn’t age, while your daughter was sent to the Land Without Magic by herself, essentially an orphan.”

Emma’s eyes flitted over to him at the reminder of the words he had spoken to her on the beanstalk. “Do we really have to listen to you talk the whole way? I’m trying to concentrate on how I’m going to make my magic work once we get there.”

“I shall endeavor to give you the silence you request, Princess,” Hook said with a slight bow.

“Don’t call me that,” she muttered under her breath.

“As you wish, Emma.”

She glared at him, eliciting a smirk before he turned his attention back to the path in front of them. They walked on in silence for a while, until Snow quietly said, “The lake wasn’t completely dried up when we reached it, you know.”

“Why couldn’t it save my grandmother, then?” Emma asked.

When Snow didn’t answer for a few moments, Emma looked over, her brow furrowing when she saw that her mother was obviously struggling with her emotions. Her chin trembled and Emma could see the glistening of tears in her eyes. Finally, she whispered, “Because she insisted that I take the swallow of water left to reverse the curse of barrenness King George put on me. If she hadn’t…well…you wouldn’t be here.”

There was silence between the three of them as they pondered that revelation.

“Then you and David were married on the shore of the lake, right?” Emma asked, seeking to lift the somberness of the moment.

“Yes,” Snow smiled slightly. “Lancelot married us, so Ruth could witness it before she passed.”

“That’s quite the romantic tale, Milady,” Hook murmured.

“What would you know about romance?” Emma mumbled.

Hook’s eyes snapped to hers and she saw a flash of hurt in them. Remembering what he said about Milah when they were at the top of the beanstalk, she immediately regretted her words and was opening her mouth to apologize, when he cleared his throat and responded, “I’ve wooed many a woman, Swan. Perhaps you desire to be one of them.”

Although she could tell he was using the innuendo to mask his true feelings, she couldn’t keep herself from retorting, “In your dreams, buddy.”

He turned and took a step closer to her, bending until his face was within inches of hers. “Since it appears that you’re amenable, I will see you in my dreams, Swan.”

“I think we’re almost there,” Snow stated, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption.

Hook gave her one more meaningful look before turning and glancing around their surroundings. “Aye, you’re correct. It should be just around that bend in the road.”

They finished the journey in silence. Once they reached the edge of what obviously used to be the lake, Hook came to a stop in the soft sand, halting Snow and Emma in their tracks. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “Well, this is it. Time to work your magic, Swan.”

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” she grumbled, her eyes flitting over the barren ground in front of them.

Snow stepped up beside her and took her hand. “I believe there is powerful magic inside you, Emma. No one has ever been able to defeat Cora like you did. You don’t need to fill the lake, all you need to do is generate enough water to restore the bean.”

“Yeah, okay,” Emma answered, widening her stance and setting her jaw in determination. She closed her eyes, picturing her son and father in her mind. A tingling sensation worked itself up from her chest, down her arms and to her fingertips. Stretching her arms out in front of her, she felt the sensation build until she was sure it was ready to burst, then thrust her hands forward.

She heard her mother gasp beside her, but Emma kept her eyes closed, afraid to open them for fear it hadn’t worked. Suddenly, she felt Hook’s presence beside her. “Well done, Love,” he murmured into her ear, sending a different type of tingle through her body.

Her eyes popped open, her knees nearly buckling as she beheld the sparking blue water of the lake, filled so completely that the water lapped at the toes of her boots.

“You did it, Emma!” Snow exclaimed. “I knew you could!”

As Emma continued to stare in disbelief, Hook once again pulled the string containing the magic bean over his head. Holding it out to Emma, he asked, “Would you like to do the honors?”

“Uh, sure,” she said, snapping out of her trance to take it. Bending down, she dipped the black, shriveled bean into the water, waiting a few seconds before pulling it out.

Snow gave a little cheer when the crystal clear bean emerged, fully restored. When Hook reached for it, Emma pulled it back. Slipping the string over her head, she said, “I think I’ll hold onto this, if you don’t mind.”

Once again, she caught a quick glimpse of hurt pass over his face before he composed himself and replied, “As you wish.”

“What’s the next part of the plan?” Emma asked.

“Now,” Hook replied, “we sail to Storybrooke on my ship, the Jolly Roger.”

“Of course we do,” mumbled Emma. “Why am I not surprised?”

*********

Hook decided to use the bean to create a portal and, in a surprising show of generosity, gave the vial of ashes from the wardrobe to Mary Margaret ‘for the sake of nostalgia.’

“I had no idea you had such a soft side,” Emma commented.

“I don’t,” he was quick to reply. “Just don’t have any need for sparkly dirt.”

Emma could tell he wasn’t being completely truthful, but decided getting to Henry was more important than questioning him.

He quickly got the ship ready to sail and they were soon out at sea, dropping into a portal that looked like a whirlpool. It was the middle of the night by the time they reached Storybrooke.

“It’s been a pleasure to travel on such a beautiful ship!” Mary Margaret proclaimed.

“Aye, my ship - she’s a marvel,” Hook agreed proudly, guiding the Jolly Roger into the harbor.

“I can’t believe you were able to sail it without a crew,” Emma said.

“I’m a hell of a captain,” he smirked. “Besides, I had the two of you to help and you were fast learners. You’re welcome to join my crew.”

“Don’t count on it,” Emma mumbled.

“Pity, that,” Hook commented. “I could take you on exciting adventures, show you exotic places that are beyond your wildest dreams.”

“I’ve had enough adventure in the last few weeks to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. Right now the only place I want to be is with my son.”

Hook hummed, nodding his understanding as he expertly maneuvered the ship into a berth. As soon as it was docked and he dropped the gangplank, Emma and Mary Margaret hastily thanked him and wasted no time disembarking and hurrying down the street.

Hook stood alone, watching them until they disappeared around a corner. Even without Emma in his line of view, he could still see her in his mind’s eye, blonde locks flying behind her as she ran, her lithe body moving effortlessly.

Mentally shaking himself, he tried to force his thoughts toward how he was going to exact his revenge on the crocodile. He had been waiting for this opportunity for over two hundred years, and now it was within his grasp.

So why was winning the affections of the feisty Emma Swan suddenly more important?

*********

Storybrooke was an enigma to Hook. It was nothing like the Enchanted Forest, but some of the same laws of magic still applied. Even though they were in the ‘Land Without Magic’, magic had somehow found its way there, and the Dark One was still the Dark One, with the same power and immortality.

Hook had trouble reconciling the fact that the distinguished-looking Mr. Gold was the persona adopted by the evil imp, Rumplestiltskin. Yet, as he spied on the man day after day, he could see that he exhibited the same despicable and selfish tendencies when interacting with the residents of the town.

He was stunned to learn the Dark One had a lady love - Belle French, the beautiful, mannerly librarian. When Rumplestiltskin was with her, his behavior was entirely different, and Hook could tell she had won his heart. This knowledge helped him hatch a plan that was sure to destroy the crocodile’s life, just as he had destroyed Hook’s.

By listening carefully to snippets of conversations while he covertly roamed around Storybrooke, he learned no one could cross the town line. Rumplestiltskin, however, had apparently found a way around that little problem.

While gathering that information, Hook also kept an eye on Emma Swan. It turned out she was the town’s law enforcement, so was often out on the streets. He watched her from a distance and felt a pang of jealousy every time he saw her with a handsome, sandy-haired man, until the day he saw the same man with Mary Margaret and realized he must be Emma’s father.

He also saw her with the boy he assumed was her son. It felt odd to have a sense of pride at being able to help reunite the two. The lad didn’t seem to be any worse for the wear, having nearly lost his mother and grandmother. He was always speaking animatedly to Emma as they strolled down the sidewalk together.

Hook had been able to avoid contact with Regina thus far. He was hoping not to have to explain his role in her mother’s death. Her relationship with Cora was contentious, but she was still Regina’s mother and he was sure to be the recipient of her wrath and perhaps a fireball or two.

His stealth as a pirate served him well, and he was able to elude being noticed by the crocodile. However, hiding the Jolly Roger was a completely different matter. He knew his ship was too visible in Storybrooke harbor, but he needed her to be at his disposal. He finally settled on docking her around the bend at a rocky outcropping where she would be concealed, while allowing him access via a secluded section of beach that seemed to be ignored by the citizens of the town.

The day Rumplestiltskin planned to cross the town line finally arrived. Hook hid himself amongst the trees along the road early that morning, unsure of when the attempt would be made. He checked and re-checked the gun he managed to pilfer from the sheriff’s station. It was similar to the pistols he used for centuries, but was smaller and easier to handle. After watching Emma using one to shoot target practice in the middle of the woods one day, he knew it would be much more efficient than his hook in reaching his objective.

When Hook heard one of those odd contraptions called a car approaching, he made sure the gun was ready to fire and got into position behind a large tree. He watched Rumplestiltskin and Belle exit the vehicle and step toward the town line. Belle held a shawl in her hands that Hook recognized as one Milah made, and Rumplestiltskin held a potion bottle. Hook saw him speaking to Belle, but wasn’t close enough to hear what he was saying. The way she stood there gazing at him as if he hung the moon turned Hook’s stomach.

Rumplestiltskin took the stopper out of the bottle and poured the potion on the shawl, then tossed the bottle away. Hook saw the fabric glowing as Belle placed it around Rumplestiltskin’s neck.

“Here we go,” he said, then slowly limped over the town line. Turning, he hesitated for a long moment, then pointed at the auburn-haired beauty and said simply, “Belle.”

She let out a joyful laugh and said, “It worked!” Taking his hand, she added, “Now you can find your son.”

Just as Rumplestiltskin began to respond, Hook stepped out from behind the tree.

“This is for you, Milah,” he whispered, then pulled the trigger.

Belle’s scream ripped through the air as Rumplestiltskin stepped quickly over the line to catch her before she fell. Looking up, his eyes filled with rage at seeing his old nemesis. “What have you done?” he screamed. “Belle has done nothing to you!”

“I can’t kill the Dark One, but I can kill the woman who holds your heart. You killed my love. Now you know the feeling.”

Rumplestiltskin turned his attention back to Belle, searching for her injury. Meanwhile, Hook started walking back through the woods, intending to return to his ship and sail away, his revenge complete.

He was on the outskirts of town when he heard the sounds of what he had learned were sirens. His smile of satisfaction faded, knowing Emma would soon find out about his murderous act. She was sure to disapprove. Apparently in this modern world, scores weren’t settled with a life for a life.

Hook finally reached his ship and went aboard. He was in the process of readying it to sail when he heard a familiar voice.

“Going somewhere, Hook?”

Walking across the deck, he looked over the side. The light from the moon illuminated the blonde hair of Emma Swan, who was standing on the beach below.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Swan?” he asked non-chalantly.

“You do know it’s against the law to shoot someone, don’t you?”

“In the Enchanted Forest, it’s called vengeance.”

“In Storybrooke, it’s called attempted murder.”

Hook’s brows shot up. “Attempted?”

“Oh, are you disappointed you didn’t succeed in killing an innocent woman? You shot her in the shoulder. She’s been taken to the hospital, but she’s expected to be fine.”

“Bloody hell,” Hook mumbled, pounding his fist on the wooden railing.

“Are you going to come down here or do I have to come onboard?”

He decided to try turning on the charm. “Why Swan, are you seducing me?”

“You’re not funny, buddy. Belle isn’t only a citizen of this town, she’s also my friend. Now, I’m not asking, I’m ordering. Get down here right now. You’re under arrest.”

Hook sighed. He knew if he tried to sail away, he would appear to be a coward. Might as well face the music. “Very well,” he said, starting to saunter over to the gangplank.

“And bring the gun you stole from the sheriff’s office. You’ll be charged with theft for that, too.”

Hook briefly wondered how she found out about that, but didn’t ask. Being such a brilliant lass, he was sure she figured it out on her own.

She met him at the bottom of the gangplank, a set of handcuffs in her hand. “Hands behind your back,” she instructed gruffly.

“Is that really necessary? I’ll come along peacefully.”

“It’s standard procedure,” she said, encouraging him to turn around by tugging on his arm.

Once the cuffs were firmly around his wrist and the brace holding his hook, she patted him down until she found the gun in the deep pocket of his long duster. Holding it up in front of him, she snarled, “I can’t believe you stole a gun from the police. When did you manage to do that?”

“I can’t give away all of my secrets, Swan.”

“Fine, but you’ll have plenty of time to reconsider. You’re gonna be locked up for a long time,” she stated, giving him a not so gentle shove to get him moving.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, throwing her a look over his shoulder.

“You should count yourself lucky that you’ll be locked up. Gold is furious and if he gets to you, it’s hard to tell what he’ll do.”

“I’m not afraid of the bloody crocodile,” Hook said, a sardonic grin on his face.

“Keep smiling, buddy. You’re under arrest and handcuffed. He’s on his feet, immortal, has magic and you hurt his girl. If I were to pick dead guy of the year, I’d pick you.”

Hook turned away from her and continued trudging along the beach. Neither of them spoke again until they reached the squad car. After locking him in the back, Emma seated herself behind the wheel and picked up the radio. “I have the suspect in custody,” she reported. “I’ll be at the station in five minutes.”

Once they arrived, David came out of the building and opened the back door. Grabbing Hook by the arm, he roughly pulled him out of the car. Keeping an iron grip on him, he led him into the station, Emma following along behind.

“Any news on Belle?” she asked.

“Whale took her in for surgery a little while ago. He said he would update us when he’s finished.”

“Is Gold at the hospital?”

“Yeah. I asked Leroy to hang around and let us know if he leaves. I’m sure once he finds out Hook is locked up here, he’ll be paying us a visit.”

“Good idea. I’m sure Leroy won’t mind being our informant.” Holding up the gun, she added, “Got this back. I’ll tag it for evidence.”

“Think you’re pretty clever stealing a gun from the police and using it to shoot an innocent woman, don’t you, Hook?” David said, practically spitting the last word at him.

“I’m usually a better shot, but I’m not used to such a small weapon,” Hook quipped. “My weapons are much bigger and have better accuracy.”

“Why didn’t you just use one of them, then?” Emma asked, stepping behind the camera to take his mugshot.

“Alas, I failed to procure more ammunition before embarking on our trip to your fair Storybrooke.”

David positioned him in front of the wall, instructing him to look at the camera. He glowered as Emma took the first picture. “Turn to your right,” she ordered.

“You look good, I must say. All ‘turn to your right’ in a commanding voice. Chills,” Hook commented as he followed her directions.

Emma rolled her eyes before clicking the button on the camera.

After the pictures were finished, David unlocked the handcuffs, telling Hook to take off his heavy coat, which he did without complaint. However, when Emma told him to remove his hook, he balked.

“No arguments,” Emma commanded. “You’ll pick the lock with that thing.”

He glared at her for several moments, but it made no difference. She stood there with her hand out, staring him down until he finally twisted the device out of the brace and begrudgingly placed it in her palm.

Soon he was escorted into one of the jail cells and the door slammed shut behind him. “I’ll take the first watch,” Emma told David. “You go home to Mary Margaret and tell Henry I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” David asked, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he gave Hook a hard stare. “I’d be happy to stay here and let you go home to get some sleep.”

“It’s no problem. I’m too wound up to sleep, anyway.”

“Or you could both go home,” Hook stated. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Yeah, like I would trust you,” Emma spat.

“Okay, I’m taking off. If he gives you any trouble, call me. I’ll be more than willing to punch him in the face,” David said.

“Quite hostile, aren’t you?” Hook drawled, casually leaning against the bars examining his fingernails nonchalantly.

“Just making myself clear,” David responded. Turning back to Emma, he added, “If I hear anything from Whale or Leroy, I’ll let you know, but they will probably call the station first.”

“True. I’ll text you if they do.”

“Text?” Hook questioned.

“It’s a way of communicating through the phone,” she explained, waving the device in the air to show him. “Something a thousand-year-old pirate wouldn’t understand.”

“More like three hundred,” Hook grumbled.

David and Emma said their goodbyes, then she sat down in the desk chair, swiveling it back and forth as she crossed her arms and fixed Hook with a stare. “So let me get this straight - your idea of getting revenge on Rumplestiltskin was to steal a gun and shoot his girlfriend, then sail away?”

“As you’re well aware, the Dark One can’t be killed. I wanted him to know the pain of losing a woman he loved. That pain is worse than death.”

“From what you said at the top of the beanstalk, I surmised he killed the woman you loved. ”

“Aye, my Milah. He pulled her heart out and crushed it right in front of me.”

Emma winced. “No wonder you hate the guy. What did you do to him to make him do something like that?”

Hook wandered over and sat on the cot, leaning back against the wall and crossing his own arms. “Well, you see, Milah was Rumplestiltskin’s wife, but she left him because he was a coward. The laughing stock of the town. She couldn’t take it anymore and ran away with me to live a life of adventure on the high seas.”

“You were either brave or stupid to fall in love with the Dark One’s wife.”

“He wasn’t the Dark One when I fell in love with her.”

Before Emma could answer, the phone sitting on the desk began ringing. “Sheriff’s station,” she answered.

Hook listened to her side of the conversation, watching her furrow her brow and nod. After she hung up, she said, “That was Whale. Belle is out of surgery. The bullet came out clean and she’s going to be fine.”

“Is she in pain at least?”

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. “Belle is sweet and would never hurt anyone.”

“Neither would Milah,” he shot back.

“Still, don’t you feel at all guilty about shooting Belle when she didn’t do anything wrong?”

“She fell in love with the bloody Dark One! She should thank me for trying to put her out of her misery.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t feel any remorse. You are a pirate, after all,” she scoffed with disdain.

A flash of hurt passed across his face before he huffed, “Aye, that I am.”

Emma placed a call to David to tell him the news about Belle. After ending it, she and Hook fell into silence. He lay down on the lumpy, narrow cot, dramatically punching at the pillow with his fist, then closed his eyes to make a pretense of falling asleep. Every time he cracked open his eyes to peek at Emma, she was staring at him.

“See something you like, Swan?” he finally asked.

“No. I just see someone who can’t be trusted.”

“So you plan to remain awake all night to make sure I won’t escape?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Rest assured, Darling, I have no way to escape this cell. You can go to sleep.”

“Actually,” she said, standing up and striding over to a file cabinet, “I have a lot of paperwork to fill out because of your little stunt tonight. Might as well put this time to good use.”

Sitting back down at the desk, she pulled out a pen and started writing. Hook watched her for a few minutes until he got bored, then closed his eyes and drifted to sleep. He dreamed that Milah was lying on the deck of the Jolly Roger in the exact spot where she died, sobbing and telling him that he failed her again.

*********

When Hook woke up the next morning, David was sitting at the desk, playing solitaire with a deck of cards.

“So that’s what you look like when you don’t get your beauty sleep, Swan,” Hook quipped.

David didn’t even look up. “I see sleep doesn’t improve your ability to be funny.”

Hook sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot, looking around the cell. “I don’t suppose you have a chamber pot available, do you mate?”

“No chamber pots and I’m not your mate,” David said, pushing himself away from the desk. “I can let you use the bathroom, but if you try anything…” he patted the gun in the holster he was wearing.

“I wasn’t asking to take a bath, sheriff,” Hook said, over emphasizing the last word. “I just need a pot to piss in.”

“A bathroom is where you do that in the modern world, pirate,” David retorted. “Haven’t you heard of a toilet?”

“Can’t say that I have since I’ve only been in this world for a few days. How long did it take you to adjust to all of the changes?”

David unlocked the cell door and swung it open, reaching in to firmly grip Hook’s arm. “I don’t know. I was in a coma for twenty-eight years.”

Hook gaped at him as he stumbled out of the cell. “I suppose that was Regina’s doing?”

“Yeah, She also provided me with a wife, and it wasn’t Snow.”

“She really had it in for the two of you, didn’t she?”

“The three of us, actually. We were forced to send Emma to this world just minutes after she was born in order for her to escape the coming curse. We hoped she would be able to find us and break it someday.”

“And she did,” Hook stated knowingly.

“Of course she did. And besides that, the first day she ever handled a sword, she slayed a dragon,” David said, puffing his chest out proudly. “In case you haven’t noticed, my daughter is the strongest, bravest, most intelligent person you will ever meet.”

“I have noticed, believe me,” Hook muttered.

They reached the bathroom and David gave him a small push inside, then closed the door behind him. After a moment, he called out, “The toilet is the thing with the water in it. Don’t pee in the sink!”

*********

Hook was surprised Emma didn’t come into the station that morning. Ruby arrived to deliver breakfast from Granny’s for David and Hook, but otherwise, it was just the two men ignoring each other.

It was almost noon when Leroy burst into the office, spouting something about Gold running off to New York City. None of it concerned Hook, who was happy to hear the crocodile would be leaving town, until he heard the dwarf mention Emma.

“Why would Emma go anywhere with him?” David asked, launching himself out of his chair.

“Gold said she has to help him because he doesn’t know how airports work,” Leroy explained. “He said if she won’t, he’s going to come here and kill Hook.”

“What’s the downside of that?” David asked.

“Hey!” Hook protested.

“I’m going to go home and try to talk some sense into her,” David said, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “Can you stay here and keep an eye on him?”

“Gladly,” Leroy growled, glowering at Hook. “If he tries anything, do I have permission to shoot him?”

“He won’t try anything, will you, Hook?”

“I wouldn’t dare, after being threatened by a dwarf,” Hook responded derisively. He watched David sprint out of the station, hoping he would be able to talk Emma out of the insane idea of traveling with Rumplestiltskin.

Leroy plopped into the chair David had vacated, crossing his arms across his chest with a furious look on his face. Hook wasn’t in the mood to deal with the dwarf, so he lay down on the cot, turning to face the wall.

He had no idea how much time passed before he heard David come back. He continued to pretend to be asleep, hoping to hear information about Emma.

“Did he give you any trouble?” the sheriff asked.

“Nope. I let him know in no uncertain terms that I wouldn’t put up with any nonsense. Must not have wanted to tangle with me, because he hasn’t said a peep.”

Hook rolled his eyes so hard, it was almost painful.

“Were you able to talk your daughter out of the cockamamie idea of going to New York with Gold?” Leroy continued.

Hook’s blood froze at David’s next words. “No. She’s as stubborn as the day is long. They’re on their way to the airport right now. Henry is staying with us until she gets back.”

“Do you think she’s safe with him?” Leroy asked.

“The only consolation I have is that he needs her to drive him there and navigate the process of flying. He won’t gain anything by hurting her.”

In theory, Hook knew that was true. But he also knew the Dark One tricks and the Dark One lies. He didn’t put anything past Rumplestiltskin. His mind began churning with ideas for how to break out of jail and get to Emma before something happened to her. If he had to kill Rumplestiltskin to accomplish that, so much the better.

While David and Leroy continued to talk, Hook formulated a plan.

The first step was accomplished shortly after Leroy left, when Ruby delivered lunch from the diner. While David was occupied chatting with the waitress, Hook used a large hairpin he kept in his pocket to help him pull the small buttons of his shirt through the buttonholes, to pick the lock of the cell. It wasn’t easy doing it with one hand, but he managed in a relatively short amount of time.

“I’m going to wash my hands, then I’ll give you your lunch,” David announced, turning his back to walk toward the bathroom. Hook slipped out of the cell, immediately going for the crowbar he had noticed sitting in a corner of the room. Stealthily, he moved to stand outside the bathroom door with the weapon raised in his hand.

When David emerged a minute later, Hook clocked him, muttering, “Apologies, mate, but if you aren’t going to ensure your daughter’s safety, I guess it’s up to me.”

Stepping over David’s unconscious form, he went to the desk and started opening drawers. Finding his hook in the bottom one, he clicked it into place, grabbed his heavy duster from the coat rack and left the station.

After making it down Main Street by ducking and dodging into alleys and behind dumpsters, he arrived at Gold’s Pawn Shop. He made quick work of picking the lock on the back door, entering quietly and starting his search.

He soon found the case where Gold kept his potions and poisons. The bottle filled with a thick, inky liquid drew his attention. He carefully unstoppered and sniffed it. Finding it to be exactly what he was hoping to procure, he stuck it into the deep pocket of his coat and rushed back out the door.

The trip to the Jolly Roger was without incident or coming into contact with any of the townsfolk. Since it was made ready to sail the night before, he was out on the open water in record time, sailing toward the mysterious land of New York.

*********

Thank you for reading. Please join me in wishing Krystal the happiest of birthdays!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

@apiratewhopines @hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate

@caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @killihan-jones

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Valentine’s Rerun (1 of 2): Cupid’s Grenade

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26@bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian @in-spirational @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4  @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight, @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree  @jrob64  @anmylica     @cosette141​

Originally part of my Fluffy Fridays collection. When a mysterious stranger comes to town and sets off a magical grenade in Granny’s during the breakfast rush on the day before Valentine’s Day, the residents of the town suddenly feel extra amorous. What will Emma and Killian do if the spell doesn’t wear off?

CS Genre: Canon divergence from early 3b

He crossed the town line into Storybrooke late on the night of February 12th.  He walked for half a mile before he reached anything resembling civilization, wanting nothing more than a place to rest and regroup, a place to plan his next move.

It had been an extraordinarily bad year.  So much discord, so much division everywhere he turned.  It drained his energy, his very life source like nothing had since the last Ogre War.  He needed an infusion, and he needed one fast.  Thank the gods Valentine’s Day was little more than a day away.

He passed a shop, dark and closed, caught his reflection in the picture window and jumped back, startled, bringing one wrinkled, bony hand to his equally wrinkled, bony face.  He was even further gone than he’d previously believed.  He could only hope the rumors about this sleepy little town were true.

“Storybrooke, that’s where you want to go,” the seer had assured him.  “Not only is it the only source of magic in this land, but it’s brimming with True Love, both that which is acknowledged, and that which is denied.”

If he had any hope to survive the week, he needed that True Love.

If this world had any hope to survive, they needed him just as badly.

He walked slowly, laboriously, looking for the most opportune place.  Town hall?  No, it emitted angry energy, a place of discord.  A brick building with a sign over the door calling itself The Rabbit Hole was promising, but still not quite right.  Finally, he arrived at an establishment with tables and chairs on the terrace, a bright, neon sign proclaiming Granny’s.

Perfect.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

The next morning, Granny’s

Killian stepped from his room in the bed and breakfast and headed downstairs to the cafe where he was to meet Swan and her parents for a quick strategy meeting while they dined on Granny’s delectable fare.

He smiled to himself, an extra spring in his step as he walked.  The situation in which the residents of Storybrooke found themselves was, once again, less than ideal.  An unknown, unnamed villain had cursed them back to Storybrooke and wiped their memories of the past year, and no one had any idea why.  He should be concerned; he knew he should, but he couldn’t stop the joy that bubbled up within his heart.

Selfish though the thought was, he was grateful for the villain’s machinations, grateful for the curse.

For it was the curse that allowed him to cross worlds, the curse that allowed him to be reunited with his Swan, the curse that ended the hell that had been the last year without her.

Oh, he’d tried to convince himself that he’d merely needed to return to his pirate lifestyle, but every step he took away from her, away from the hero he’d tried to become for her, had felt wrong, made him feel her loss even more acutely.

Slowly, but surely he’d come to realize that it was more than just the loss of the love of his life that made his pirate activities lose their luster.  He’d changed.  Not just because of her, but because of himself.  He wanted to be a good man, a hero.

Killian stepped into the cafe.  Early though it was, the sun had barely come up, the establishment was already brimming with business.  He scanned the tables until he saw her sitting at a booth across from her parents.

His heart turned over.  She was so bloody beautiful, so bloody precious to him.

He knew she was hesitant to embrace life here in Storybrooke once again.  She loved her parents, held at least some amount of affection for him, but the weight of being The Savior hung heavy on her.  He couldn’t blame her for wishing to retain the seemingly peaceful existence she’d lived with her lad in New York.

Still, she’d come back with him, had agreed to help her family, the whole town, defeat the newest threat to their safety.  He could only hope to one day exhibit half her courage and selflessness.

“Hook, you finally made it,” Swan said, scooting over and patting the seat next to her.  “After all your talk about being a pirate and rising with the sun I thought I was going to have to go up and drag your butt out of bed.”

Killian gratefully took the seat next to Emma, using all his willpower to avoid imagining Emma coming to his bed.

“I rise with the sun, darling,” he said with a grin, “but it would seem you lot couldn’t wait for that auspicious occasion.”

Emma looked down, playing with the handle of her mug of cocoa.  “Yeah, well we wanted to make sure and meet early enough that we could talk before Henry wakes up.  Don’t want the kid to get freaked out with mentions of curses and villains and whatever other crap we need to discuss.  He doesn’t have his memories, after all.”

Snow White reached across the table and covered her daughter’s hand on her mug.  “Don’t worry, honey.  We’ll find a way to bring back Henry’s memories.  Somehow.  And until then everyone here has agreed to live like that sleepy, normal town we thought we were during the curse.”

Emma glanced aside, a look of guilt on her face, and not for the first time, Killian wondered if she even wanted her son to regain his memories.  He could feel the turmoil coming off of her in waves and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and sooth the tension away.

But he knew his Swan better than that.  She’d rebuilt the fortress around her heart over the last, long year of separation, and it would take him some time to help her disassemble it; some time before his advances were once again tolerated, let alone welcomed.

“Okay,” Emma said, after a deep breath, “so we know someone cursed you.  We know a year has gone by that you don’t remember.  We know crossing the town line turns people into, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, flying monkeys.  Anything else I’m missing?”

“I had a conversation with the dwarfs,” David answered, “and after their latest patrol at the town line, they found…”

Suddenly the door to the diner was slammed open, the bell above ringing angrily.  The entire diner went silent, still, as the oldest man Killian had ever seen walked slowly in until he was standing in the very center of the room.  Dressed all in red, quite the dapper tuxedo and top hat at that, the man walked, hunched over, leaning heavily on a cane.  Every eye was on him as he stopped, looked at the gaudy Valentine’s Day decorations Granny had hung, shaking his head at the Cupid with his bow and arrow, and then reached into his breast pocket.

Killian watched, fascinated as he pulled out a small red object in the shape of a heart, pulled a pin from its center, tossed it to the floor and then slowly began walking away.

“Grenade!”  Leroy shouted as the object began smoking.

Chaos ensued as the cafe’s patrons scrambled to reach the exits, but it was clear they’d never be free of the building in time.  Killian reacted on instinct, moving to cover Swan’s body with his own just as a large “boom!” filled the diner as the heart-shaped object exploded.

He waited for the shock, the pain as the explosive blasted him, but it never came.  He looked up to see nothing but a pink, shimmering cloud billowing from the heart, suffusing the diner, and then dissipating.

For a moment he felt an intense burst of love and longing for the woman beside him, and he instinctively looked down into her startled eyes, but then she blinked, and the spell was over.  Killian shook his head and sat up, resuming his own seat on the bench.

For a moment, a shocked silence fell over the room, and then an excited buzz began as Granny’s patrons realized they had indeed survived the...whatever the blazes that had been.

“What the hell was that?!” Emma ground out.

“I don’t know,” Dave said, “but I have a feeling we really need to find out.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Later that afternoon

“Cupid?  You’re telling me that old guy was Cupid?”

Emma ground her teeth in frustration, keeping her hands resolutely in her jeans pockets lest she do something stupid like grab her pirate (no!  Not her pirate) and kiss the daylights out of him.

What was wrong with her?

After the heart grenade had gone off in Granny’s this morning, she, her parents and Hook had found Belle in Gold’s shop to pick her brain, see if she had any idea who the mysterious old man was.

Of all the answers Belle could have given them,  “It appears Cupid has come to Storybrooke,” was the last one Emma had expected.

Of course Cupid was real too, because...of course he was.

Belle reached under the counter and retrieved an old book decorated with flowers and hearts.  Flipping through several pages, she turned the tome toward them, pointing to a photograph of a very old man.  

“That’s him,” Snow said, “that’s the man who...did whatever he did to us.”

“Like I said,” Belle said, turning the book back toward her.  “It seems we’ve been visited by Cupid.”

“Who and what is Cupid?” Killian asked from her side.  (Emma ground her teeth again, determinedly ignoring the way his velvety voice made the butterflies in her chest flutter and come to life.  Ignoring the intense affection she suddenly felt for him.  Ignoring the sudden desire to lace her fingers with his.)

“Best I can tell,” Belle said, “he’s a deity of some kind.  He, for lack of a better word, feeds on love.  It’s his source of sustenance.  The more the world around him is depleted of love, the older, frailer he becomes.”

“And what does that have to do with the grenade or whatever that he tossed at us?” Emma asked.

Belle flipped a couple of pages, and then pointed down at a passage of text.  “That’s the interesting part.  You see, February 14, Valentine’s Day is his big day of love harvest every year.  His grenades contain a powerful spell that...encourages love and affection in everyone on which the spell falls.  It reaches its peak in 24 hours, which makes today, February 13 the perfect day to launch it.”

Emma groaned.  “A love spell?  Are you telling me freaking Cupid cast a love spell on all of us?  One that won’t wear off until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid so,” Belle answered.

Well, that was just...just…

Actually that was kind of reassuring.

From the second that damn grenade had gone off, Emma had been feeling things she couldn’t explain, things she didn’t want to feel, things she’d been working hard at denying ever since Neverland, maybe even before.

As soon as the spell had cleared, she’d looked up into Killian’s intense blue eyes and felt wave after wave of want, of longing, of...of...love crash over her.  She wanted to hold him, kiss him, hold his hand, touch him. 

But that wasn’t the worst part.  Physical attraction she could handle.  Hook was hot, there was no denying that.  Feeling a physical pull to him, that was understandable.  If she didn’t think it would give him the wrong impression, she’d have no problem giving into her urges.  She’d had plenty of one-nighters in the past.

But it wasn’t just physical attraction she felt following the pink, sparkly cloud.  No, it was emotions as well.  She had the sudden need to talk to him alone, to tell him that she’d somehow missed him during the last year, even though she didn’t remember him.  That some part of her had been so intensely happy to see him there at her apartment door that she could hardly contain herself.  That his attempted True Love’s Kiss...she didn’t knee him because he’d assaulted her, she’d kneed him because it felt right, like she was coming home and that totally freaked her out.  She wanted to tell him she was glad he’d found her, glad he was by her side, glad he’d brought her home.

But that, all of that, was crazy.  She didn’t do emotions, didn’t let herself be that vulnerable with another person, someone who could destroy her if she let him.

So all things considered?  Finding out she was feeling all this due to a stupid love potion was a relief.

All she had to do was grin and bear it until the spell wore off tomorrow and then everything would be back to normal.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Granny’s Bed and Breakfast, February 15, 2 hours before dawn

Emma tossed and turned, her fitful sleep punctuated by dreams.  Disturbing, troubling dreams.

Dreams where she walked with Hook, hand in hand, down by the docks.  Where they talked and kissed.  He smiled at her and she smiled back.  They were both radiantly, blissfully happy.  He led her back to his ship (where was his ship, by the way?  She was pretty sure she hadn’t seen it since they’d come back to Storybrooke), down to his captain’s quarters.

She teased him about his tiny bed, he’d laughed along with her, wiggling his expressive eyebrows in that ridiculous way of his, joking that it wasn’t the size, it was what you did with it.  He’d swaggered to her, invaded her space, threaded his fingers through her hair as he leaned down and captured her lips….

Henry mumbled something in his sleep, and Emma woke with a start.

The dream had been so damn lifelike.  She could still feel Killian’s hand in her hair, feel his lips against hers.  Bringing a hand to her chest, Emma willed her heart rate to slow.  Why was this happening to her?

The last 36 hours had been torture.  Pure, beautiful, intense torture.

Her feelings for Killian had grown and strengthened as the 13th and then the 14th wore on, and though she knew they weren’t real, knew they were caused solely by Cupid’s stupid love spell, more than once she’d almost cracked, almost thrown caution to the wind and bared her heart to the man who was constantly in her thoughts.

Emma had been half sure Hook would use the curse to try to get close to her.  She was afraid he’d declare himself again, try to force her into an awkward conversation about the feelings they held for each other, but she needn’t have worried.  Killian seemed no more eager to explore the effects of the love spell than she was.  He’d left the library soon after Belle explained their predicament, and he’d kept his distance ever since.

He’s giving you space.  He doesn’t want to pressure you, to take advantage.  He’s always a gentleman.

Emma felt a rush of affection yet again, and that alone frustrated her beyond belief.  It was February 15, the day after Valentine’s Day.  Why hadn’t the spell worn off?

Emma groaned, getting up and tossing on a sweatshirt and slippers.  Clearly she wasn’t getting anymore sleep tonight.  Better she go down to the diner and get some cocoa rather than risk waking Henry with her frustration.

“Hey, Ruby,” she said on a yawn, settling on a stool at the counter. “Hope I didn’t startle you.  I know you’re not exactly open yet.”

“Emma!” she said, stepping around the counter and giving Emma a quick hug.  “I’m a wolf, remember?  Heard you tossing and turning half the night.  Something on your mind?”

Emma buried her head in her hands.  “Got any cocoa?”

“Uh oh,” Ruby said, turning to give Emma her full attention.  “Is this a regular cocoa with cinnamon conversation or a cocoa with rum conversation?”

“Rum,” Emma mumbled.  “Definitely rum.”

Ruby tossed her a sympathetic smile, and then turned toward the kitchen.  A few minutes later she returned with a fragrant, steaming mug of cocoa.  Sliding it Emma’s way, Ruby leaned on the counter.  “Okay, spill.  What’s going on?”

“So who was it with you?”  Emma asked.  “You were here the other morning when Cupid dropped his bomb.  Who’d it make you think you love?”

Ruby gave her a strange look.  “Who’d it make me….?  Emma, what are you talking about?”

“You know, the grenade thing,” Emma said.  “I figure it made you think you were in love with the closest person to you.  Something like that?  I was just wondering who it made you love.”

“Emma, you know magic can’t make you fall in love with someone, right?”

Emma shrugged, then took a sip of her cocoa.  “I know it can’t create real love, but I mean, it was a spell, right?  Maybe it makes people think they’re feeling things they aren’t.”

Ruby’s smile was far, far too knowing.  “Hook right?”

“What?”

“After the whole love cloud thing, it was Hook that you fell for.”

Emma groaned, making Ruby smile all the wider.  “Knew it!  Knew the hot pirate had your panties in a twist.”

“Ruby!”

“Sorry,” she said, looking anything but.  “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em, and from what I see of the two of you around here everyday?  Yeah the sparks flying from the two of you could start a forest fire.”

Emma felt her cheeks flush and buried her face in her hands again.  “Ruby, it was just…”

“Don’t even think about saying it was just Cupid’s grenade,” Ruby said, “because, one, I’ve seen the two of you together since long behind that old man dropped his love bomb on everyone.  Two, like I told you, no magic can create love.  And three, you know who I suddenly fell in love with?”

Emma looked up, one eyebrow raised in question.

“No one,” Ruby said.  “Nothing changed for me at all. You know why that was?  It’s because if there is a person for me out there, they’re not here in Storybrooke.”

“But the cloud…”

Ruby shook her head.  “Emma, you and your family aren’t the only ones who talk to Belle and do research, you know.  After Cupid’s little stunt I paid her a visit too.  Wanted to know what was going on as much as you guys did.  I discovered that Cupid feeds on love.  Real love.  True love.  Fake, artificially created love would do nothing for him.  So his spell doesn’t make people feel things they don’t; it just helps people focus on the things they actually feel.”

Emma’s heart pounded.  “So you’re telling me, the hell I’ve been going through for the past day and a half…”

Ruby grinned again.  “Yep.  You, Emma Swan, have the hots for Killian Jones.  Cupid or no Cupid.  Besides, Cupid’s spell wore off several hours ago.  If it was fake, you’d have gone back to normal by now.”

Emma took one last swig of her cocoa and then carefully placed the mug back on its coaster.  “So what am I supposed to do with this now?  How am I supposed to proceed?”

Ruby shrugged, walking to the diner’s door, turning the lock and flipping the sign to open.  “That’s totally up to you, but my two cents?  Go talk to him.  Tell him what you’re thinking and feeling.  That unsettling feeling isn’t going to go away until you do.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian heard a soft tentative knock on his door and he groaned, swimming reluctantly from the depths of sleep.  He’d been having such a good dream, such a beautiful dream.  He’d walked with Swan by the docks, taken her aboard the Jolly (how he missed his old girl, though he’d barter her away a million times if it meant he could be with Swan).  She’d joked with him about the size of his bunk.   He’d kissed her….

Knock, knock, knock

Killian groaned, noting from the pitch black of his window that it was not even dawn yet.  He hoped whoever was out there had a bloody good reason for disturbing him.

Tossing on a white undershirt and flannel sleep pants, Killian padded to the door and threw it open.

His irritated “What?” died on his lips when he saw his visitor.  Bathed in the soft light of Granny’s hallway, her hair soft against her shoulders, Swan looked like an angel.  Killian resisted the urge to pinch himself, half convinced he was still dreaming.

He swallowed hard.

“So, um, can I come in?” she asked with a self-conscious little smile.

Killian snapped his mouth shut and quickly stepped back, gesturing with his hook for her to enter while he flicked the switch that bathed his room with light.

“Of course, love,”  he said quickly.  “Please, have a seat.”

She looked around and sat on the edge of the second double bed in his room, the one he had not used, and then looked down, picking at a loose thread on the counterpane.

She’s nervous.

Killian’s curiosity was piqued.  Why had she come to him at this time of the morning?  What could have her so rattled?

“So,” he said finally, when it was clear she wasn’t going to speak first, “what brings you to my room, love?”

“It’s just…”  She started, before abruptly standing and turning toward the door.  “Ugh, this was a mistake.  I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”

He rose quickly, stepping between her and the door.  “Please, Swan.  Something’s obviously on your mind.  Share your burden with me?”

She took a deep breath, and then nodded.

“It’s the whole Cupid love spell thing,” she said finally.

Killian suddenly looked aside, hand absentmindedly coming up to scratch behind his ear.  “Love, you needn’t say anything.  I’ve no wish to pressure you, no wish to hear a declaration bourne  artificially out of a spell…”

“That’s just it,” she said, stepping into his space, placing her hands on his arms.  “I...I...it didn’t go away.  The spell wore off yesterday, right?  I’m still feeling everything I was feeling then.”

He looked at her quickly, eyes widened, hope blooming within him in spite of himself.  “What are you saying, love?”

“I’m saying...look, I don’t know what I’m saying,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him until they were seated, facing each other on his bed.  “But there’s, there’s something there between us.  I’m really glad it was you that found Henry and me in New York.  I’m glad you came back to Storybrooke with me.  I, I feel better with you beside me.  I’m grateful that you’re there to listen when, you know, things get to be too much.  I can’t guarantee I won’t get scared again, and I can’t guarantee I won’t, I don’t know, build walls again, but I just wanted to let you know, at least once, that if we ever just have a peaceful moment in this town...maybe I’d be willing to see where things could go.”

His heart turned over, and he reached up to cup her cheek, couldn’t help himself.  Smiling gently, he leaned down and kissed her softly, almost reverently.  “Swan,” he breathed on a sigh.  “You’ve no need to thank me.  By your side is where I’ll always wish to be.”

“Good,”  she said softly before leaning in to return his kiss with interest.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

He stopped outside Granny’s Bed and Breakfast and looked up at the single illumined window.  Breathing deeply, he smiled to himself.  His harvest was complete, and what a harvest it had been!

Passing the same shop he’d passed on his way into town he took a look at his reflection.  He stood tall and strong, skin smooth and youthful, hair sandy and neatly combed.  He was young and handsome once more.

He started walking toward the edge of town but then stopped, thinking better of it.  It was true what they said about this town; it was overflowing with love.  Perhaps he’d stick around for a while.

[princess-and-the-swan]

MC Fic Rec: Somebody that I used to know

By I_should_be_doing_other_things | Rating: M

This is an angsty fic that switches back and forth between the time Emma and Killian get stuck in the past and the time they come back. In this fic, Killian and Emma spend years stuck in the past and eventually fall in love and get married, but when they come back, it's clear that something went very wrong. Complete with a WIP sequel.

Read it on AO3

Read the sequel

[snowbellewells]

@cosette141 Wow oh wow! 😍😍😍 I am truly embarrassed it took me so long to get caught up on this one again, but this latest chapter was such a gift! I have loved every twist and turn of this journey - a different take on the trip to Neverland, with Emma and Killian already so much more closely aligned and bonded. Still, this installment was also incredible for the insight and healing it brought to Emma and her parents. I love that you picked up that thread of early in the Neverland arc (which canon just sort of dropped and never came back to) and allowed Emma to truly feel the abandonment she suffered and not have to hide it or shrug it off to protect others’ feelings. In turn, her parents learned and had to come to terms with what she went through, but are also able to come through for her here when she needs it most, and to reassure her that they will spend from now on making it up to her and proving she won’t be alone anymore. Not only that, but Emma is able to see and feel how much they did want her when she was born, how hard it was and how it tore them apart to give her up, and that it wasn’t just for the good of the kingdom, but to save Emma herself as well.

So much of the flashback Emma sees while she is unconscious was BEAUTIFULLY done, and you made my heart go out to Snow in her grief at losing the daughter she had just delivered so intensely, in a way I don’t feel for Snow as often as I probably should. Seriously, so well done!! But in the end, it was this bit that got me most, of David bidding farewell to his little girl: “I love you, Emma," he whispered, even as more tears fell. "Daddy loves you." And like tearing himself apart, he laid her on the floor of the wardrobe, offering his hand one more time, a sob breaking when she took his finger with a smile. "Find us," he whispered, every ounce of his need for her to find them.”

Wonderful update nice again!! You’ve outdone yourself!!! 💕💖💕

Lost and Found (OUAT fanfic) | Chapter 12

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Author: cosette141

Words: 70k+ (so far) | 10k (this chapter)

Summary: (Begin Again sequel) Emma had felt lost nearly her whole life, and Killian had lost everything he’d ever found. That is, until they found each other. With the Crocodile dead and Cora turned good, it seems happy endings have returned. However, new crises arise, threatening the budding family between them and Henry. But this is a family that always finds each other… and they have yet to fail. CS, Anti-Neal

AO3: Ch1 | Ch12 (this one)

Chapter 12

The closer they got to Skull Rock, the more rigid Killian became.

And once they did reach it, Emma instantly knew where it got its name.

Skull Rock was truly at the heart of the island, deep within the jungle, and it was a giant cavernous structure that resembled—she should have guessed—a skull. Just the sight of it sent a chill racing down her spine. The closer they'd gotten, the quieter the jungle became, until all there was around them was utter silence and the distinct sense of anticipation that felt like a vapor.

Killian had sheathed his sword a while back, trading his weapon for her hand.

His grip on her almost hurt.

And just past her own fear, she could feel his.

Together, they stopped a few yards away from the cave's opening, dark and dim with the flicker of torchlights, as uninviting as Regina had once been to her when she'd arrived in Storybrooke.

Emma felt herself swallow hard, feeling her determination, her courage, her belief, waver.

"You can do this, love."

Emma turned at Killian's soft voice, seeing his eyes on her. Seeing the sheer panic like a rough sea, but still holding onto that determination as well, that belief in her, even smiling at her.

And it touched her, how hard he was trying to encourage her, when she knew he so badly wanted to take her as far away from here as possible.

But she couldn't leave Mary Margaret and David—she couldn't leave her parents here. She just couldn't.

She saved them once, when she broke the curse.

She can save them again.

Somewhere inside her, she felt like Henry would be proud.

Emma let out a breath, trying to slow her hammering heart.

But her fear wasn't a bad thing; it seemed to be at the core of her magic.

She could use it.

"Ready, love?"

Emma turned to Killian, again seeing his unwavering loyalty, devotion, trust in her.

And without hesitation, Emma kissed him, her eyes shutting, her free hand finding the back of his neck. After a half second hesitation of shock, Killian kissed her back with just as much desperation, just as much passion. They pulled away, a little out of breath, her forehead resting against his. Her eyes opened, finding his an inch away.

"We'll do that again," she whispered.

It was her own promise.

It was we'll be okay.

It was trust me.

It was you won't lose me, too.

He heard the words she didn't say, and he smiled, hand cupping her cheek, thumb resting by her ear, eyes on hers like he was memorizing her. "Aye." he said just as softly, voice husky in a way that ran through her whole body.

Taking a breath, they both turned. Killian released her hand with the utmost reluctance to take his sword, and Emma grabbed hold of his hook, leaving her cutlass in the sheath over her back.

It wasn't the weapon she would be wielding.

That one was the warmth in her chest, racing as fast as her adrenaline.

As one, she and Killian started into the caves.

The moment they were inside, Emma immediately felt different. It was like that warmth inside her was slightly heightened.

"Emma?"

Killian's worried eyes were on her, at the hitch in her step at the sensation.

"I'm okay," she said. "I just… I think I can feel the magic."

Killian's brows drew together, unsettled. "Aye," he agreed. "The source of Neverland's magic resides at the top, a fire that's burned since magic had been brought here," he said gravely. With a swallow, he said, "That's where I assume we'll find your parents, and Pan himself."

Another chill racing down her spine, Emma clung onto that determination inside her, that��belief.

She could do this.

She could do this.

Their ascent through the caves was chilling, every step rising the hair on the back of her neck, and increasing the sort of pressure in the air, the magic.

But the moment it became almost suffocating, Emma felt Killian's left arm flinch, pulling her slightly behind him, his muscles growing tight as rock.

And Emma saw what he did.

She gasped.

Just past the curve of the wall opened up into a large cave. Even more torchlight lit the room, but in the center of the room was a fire that raged blue in a pillar of rock.

But just past it, was a cage.

And within it, were Mary Margaret and David.

Emma's eyes widened.

Mary Margaret and David saw her at the same moment she saw them.

"Emma!" gasped Mary Margaret.

"Get out of here!" cried David.

But not a moment later, something flashed from behind the pillar, and suddenly an attack of what looked like black fog—magic—was heading straight for her and Killian.

"Emma!" cried Killian, his hooked arm moving instinctively around her, but Emma's eyes only narrowed.

Because she was ready.

The magic already having been at her fingertips, she let her fear react. The white-gold veil erupted sharply in front of herself and Killian just before the attack hit. Emma felt Killian's arm tighten around her, felt his heart pound as he pulled her back to his chest, but she'd been fast enough; the attack only made her jerk before it dispersed at the impact, falling away like smoke, and she staggered a little.

And standing before them through the clearing smoke, yards away, was a boy, his hand steaming with black residue of the attack.

And from Killian's flinch, Emma knew exactly who this boy was.

Peter Pan.

The boy was sinister looking. But more than that, there was an almost crazed, haunted look to him. He wasn't well; his weakness showed in the shadows under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, and it was clear that the attack he'd just launched took a hell of a lot out of him.

Pan stumbled with weakness, catching himself on the pillar, breathing hard, eyes ablaze. "Learned a few tricks, have you, Savior?" he spat, stumbling again with a groan, his eyes screwing shut.

"Emma," breathed Killian urgently. "While he's weak!" He lifted his sword, moving to attack, and Emma lifted her hands, trying to figure out how to attack rather than protect.

"Boys!" roared Pan, furious eyes snapping open, and suddenly out of the shadows of the cave, a group of Lost Boys emerged, armed with arrows.

All aimed at Mary Margaret and David.

"Attack me," hissed Pan at Killian and Emma, who suddenly froze, "and they die."

Emma exchanged a shaky look with Killian, who shared it.

"Don't worry about us!" shouted David, knuckles white from how hard he was holding the bars of the cage.

"Emma, run!" choked out Mary Margaret.

"I'm not leaving you!" said Emma, voice tight and pained, not lowering her hands, but not attacking either.

Beside her, as if fully taking Emma's lead, Killian's sword lowered, but was still firmly in front of him.

Pan let out a laugh that sounded almost hysterical, making a shiver run down Emma's spine. He managed to get back a sense of balance, but was still swaying on his feet, only looking more deranged.

"Let them go," she growled. She couldn't attack him as long as the Lost Boys had arrows aimed at Mary Margaret and David, and she couldn't protect them, herself and Killian at the same time. Her shields didn't stay up longer than a handful of seconds.

A sliver of doubt sped through her.

"You were foolish enough to give yourself up for the people who abandoned you," hissed Pan, making Emma, Mary Margaret and David flinch. Pan's furious eyes turned to Killian. "And you, Captain," he spat, that icy grin at his lips. "Leading yet another to their death?" Killian went rigid beside her. "You were foolish enough to let your brother die, and now her?"

Emma's eyes snapped to Killian.

All the color drained from his face.

"Don't worry," drawled Pan icily to Killian. "After she's dead, I'll put you out of your misery."

Emma felt her heart break at the look in Killian's eyes.

"Now," growled Pan to Emma. "Surrender yourself to me, or watch your parents die."

Emma spared a glance at them.

The panic in their eyes.

The tear falling down Mary Margaret's cheek.

Emma's eyes snapped back to Pan.

They were at a stalemate.

Hoping against hope that she was anticipating what Pan's instincts will be, Emma let her magic return to her fingertips, readying it. She shifted her weight a little, nudging Killian, hoping he knew to be ready.

And from how he only grew more tense, she knew he was.

So she took a breath, narrowed her eyes at Pan, and said firmly, "No."

Pan's eyes narrowed. "Then you leave me no choice. Boys!" And he turned toward her parents, rearing back to attack at the same time the Boys released their arrows.

Emma acted quick.

She channeled her magic, every thought, every emotion toward protecting her parents, and she watched the shield form around the cage. The Lost Boys' arrows struck the shield, snapping on impact.

Emma felt herself smile.

But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pan's eyes flash.

And he spun sharply, sending his attack…

…at her.

Emma's heart leapt into her throat, as she tried to summon another shield, this time for herself and Killian.

But this time, she wasn't fast enough.

Her shield only half-formed, Pan's attack struck and shattered her magic like glass. The force of it struck her hard, even if the partially-formed shield softened the blow, throwing her backward.

The last thing she heard was Killian, Mary Margaret and David screaming her name.

"EMMA!"

Mary Margaret's voice tore out of her throat, watching through the veil of the shield Emma had placed around the cage as Pan's attack struck Emma, throwing her backward.

Killian had staggered with the blow, but didn't take the brunt of it. He caught Emma as she fell, falling to his knees, nothing short of panicked horror in his eyes. "Emma!" he cried, shaking her, but her eyes were shut.

She wasn't the only one down, however.

This attack took a lot out of Pan, sending him down to his own hands and knees, heaving.

"Hook!" exclaimed David. "Is she—?!"

"She's alive," he breathed, and as Emma's shield faded from the cage, Mary Margaret could just see the slight rise and fall of Emma's chest as she lay in Killian's arms. The pirate desperately stressed her name, shaking her gently but urgently, his voice cracking with panic.

"For now."

Pan's rugged threat preceded a harsh groan from the demon, who was still shaking hard with weakness.

"Get Emma out of here!" cried David to Killian.

Killian spared a look to them. And something changed in his eyes, a softness, almost like an apology, before even more determination settled. He began to gather Emma in his arms.

But before he could even lift her, Pan growled something wild, and power was gathering again in his palm, however slower than it had the first time.

Killian's eyes widened at it, eyes finding nowhere to hide, no time to run.

So just as Pan released the attack, Killian let go of Emma to dart in front of her.

And the attack, instead, struck Killian.

"Killian!" cried Mary Margaret, panic tearing his name from her lips as the attack hit Killian square in the chest, the force of it throwing Killian into the cave wall hard enough it shook the room.

Killian crumpled to the ground, the only movement from him an unsteady breathing.

"Hook!" cried David.

Mary Margaret watched with wide, horrified eyes.

Pan, who had collapsed to the ground once again, dragged himself onto one arm, his furious eyes finding his attack having missed his target. He let out a sound half between a growl and a scream, body shaking even harder with weakness, eyes narrowed as sharp as a blade, utterly murderous.

But Pan's eyes zeroed in on Emma as he struggled to his knees. "No protective shield this time," he hissed. "No one left to save you," he mused to himself, sounding utterly unhinged. He laughed, a sound that raced a chill down Mary Margaret's spine. "Goodbye, Savior," he gasped, thrusting another attack with his hand, making Mary Margaret and David cry her name—

But the attack didn't come.

Pan collapsed back to the ground with a groan. He stared at his shaking hand like it failed him, a little fear in his eyes.

His magic.

Mary Margaret felt hope rise sharply in her chest.

His strength was failing him.

Mary Margaret looked sharply at Killian, who was still unconscious, but still breathing, still alive after taking an attack Pan had meant to kill Emma.

She felt a shaky smile at her lips.

Pan was too weak.

He was too weak.

And from David's expression, so much hope cutting into his panic, he made the same deduction she did.

But then, still struggling to get up, Pan suddenly looked at the barely flickering blue flame in the pillar, a smile dawning, freezing Mary Margaret's hope in her chest.

And Pan's weak, yet sly, wicked smile turned to David and Mary Margaret. "Don't get too… excited," he rasped, managing to get himself back to his knees, shaking like he was hypothermic. "Once I absorb the last of Neverland's… magic," he huffed, "I will have the power to destroy her."

Pan lifted his trembling hand to the flame, eyes shutting, the flame dissipating bit by bit as color, as strength, slowly returned to him.

Mary Margaret's eyes snapped back to Emma, lying unconscious on the ground.

Unable to protect herself.

With no one to protect her.

And again, Emma was hurt and in danger and alone, for saving them.

Agonizing emotion was twisting Mary Margaret's heart, tears burning her eyes.

She was not going to let Emma die.

Fierce determination raced through her.

She was Emma's mother.

She would not let her die.

Especially not for them.

Mary Margaret jerked hard against the cage, only for one of the Lost Boys to jab a sword toward her.

But even so, there was a wariness in the Boy's gaze—all of their gazes, as they watched Pan.

And it made Mary Margaret realize—they were afraid of him.

An idea struck her in an instant.

They just needed to get to Pan, to get him away from the magic before he could regain energy.

Mary Margaret quickly faced the Boys.

"You don't have to be afraid of him," said Mary Margaret breathlessly, making the Boys look at her sharply. "He's weak—if you stop him, he won't be able to control any of you anymore!"

But as one, the Lost Boys only seemed more afraid at the idea, and didn't move.

"Then let us," breathed David, grabbing the bars in desperation. "Let us out of here and we will stop him for you!"

The Boys hesitated.

Then, as one, shook their heads.

Mary Margaret felt panic racing through her.

How could she get through to them?!

But it hit her—

As painful as the fact was, she understood them now.

"You're afraid," she breathed. "Not just of Pan," she said, making the Boys stiffen. "You're afraid because he's the only person who ever made you feel wanted."

At the shock in their eyes, and the fact that the fire was half gone, Mary Margaret spoke faster.

"You've spent your whole life wanting parents," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes as they turned to Emma. "You wish for it every night, and it never comes true."

Pain in her chest, at the echo of the little, heartbroken girl in her dreams.

Of her little girl.

"How did you know that?"

The small voice was from the youngest looking of the Boys.

His weapon was no longer in front of him, no longer aimed at them, now loosely held at his side.

"Because," she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek, "the Savior is my daughter. And because of me… because of us…" She looked at David, who looked as torn up as she felt. "Emma had to live like you," she told the Boy. "Without her parents. Without us." Another tear slipped down her cheek. "And I can't go back and change that, no matter how badly I want to." she whispered.

She grabbed the cage bar, her knuckles white. "But I am here trying to do everything I can to make it up to her," she choked out. "I am trying to save her, so that I can make her feel loved and wanted and like a daughter for the rest of her life."

A tear fell down the Boy's cheek, like every word she said was every desire in his heart.

"And if you let us out of here," she breathed, seeing the fire nearly gone, Pan nearly risen to his full height, "I promise that we will take you home with us. And we will find you families and you will be wanted."

"You'd really do that?" asked a different Boy.

"You'd take us away from Neverland?" breathed another with incredulous hope.

"I promise," whispered Mary Margaret. "Just let us stop him and save our daughter!"

A heavy hesitation.

The Boys exchanged looks with each other.

However, the fire was gone.

And Pan was on his feet, grinning at his newfound strength, even as unsteady as he still was.

"Let us out, now!" cried Mary Margaret.

"Hurry!" exclaimed David.

And the littlest Boy broke through, finding the opening to the cage and swinging it open, freeing them.

Mary Margaret and David ran, but it was too late; Pan's black magic at his hands, he grinned something so wicked, so evil, as he launched the attack, straight for Emma.

Mary Margaret and David didn't even hesitate.

They ran as one, reaching Emma just before the attack struck. They both grabbed her, pulling her into their arms as they shielded her from it, shutting their eyes for what Mary Margaret knew with a heavy certainty would be their deaths.

But they would save Emma.

This was the last of Pan's magic.

Emma will be safe.

And so she smiled, even when it struck.

It hit both Mary Margaret and David at once, making them both curl tighter over Emma, protecting her as much as they could.

But…

The attack didn't feel like an attack.

Suddenly…

It just felt warm.

It was familiar, too—so much like that feeling that rushed through her when David woke her from the Sleeping Curse.

Mary Margaret opened her eyes, seeing David inches from her, looking at her in the same bewilderment. And they both looked down to see not only Emma, but all three of them encased in soft golden light.

And turning slowly around, both of them gasped.

Pan's attack had stopped inches from them, as if the golden light was acting like its own shield. Mary Margaret looked back at Emma, but she was still unconscious. And this sort of magic… it wasn't the white-gold that Emma's magic always was.

This wasn't Emma's magic; it was something different.

"No!"

The enraged scream had Mary Margaret turning back around, seeing Pan staring in utter fury.

But not a moment later, the golden light around the three of them exploded outward—

—sending Pan's attack straight back at him.

The black magic hit him, destroying him in a scream and a burst of black dust.

And with it, the very air seemed to loosen, seemed to breathe.

Mary Margaret and David looked at each other, trading a relieved, overjoyed smile.

And they looked at Emma in their arms, safe and sound.

This time, because of them.

They saved her.

"Emma?" whispered Mary Margaret. "Emma, sweetie?"

"Emma?" breathed David, gently shaking her shoulder. "Come on, baby," he whispered.

But Emma's eyes remained shut, sleeping on, the faintest glow of that golden light still surrounding her as if like a blanket.

Emma.

She was so beautiful—so perfect.

Not minutes old, Emma's big, green eyes found hers for the first time. And deep within her chest, her own heart skipped a beat as she held her daughter, her princess, safe in her arms.

Time froze for a moment, Emma's eyes on hers, the two of them making a connection that she's felt for the past nine months, but never like this. A connection that she somehow knew would never be broken.

For she was going to love this little girl, forever.

Her little girl.

A shaky smile slipped over her lips.

And for just that moment, it nearly made her forget about everything else.

The incoming Curse.

Regina.

The wardrobe, that had only been finished minutes before Emma had entered the world.

The wardrobe, that only took one.

Even days after they learned that fact, that she would need to leave David, that it would be her and Emma on their own for twenty-eight years in a land that no one here had even heard of…

She looked at David, whose eyes were on his baby girl, tears in them as Emma's little fingers tentatively grabbed his own. And when they did, this little smile, like dawn breaking through night, was on her little perfect lips, and a tear spilled down David's cheek. A beautiful joy and a horrible sadness in his face, watching her, knowing he wouldn't be able to watch her grow up.

Something that broke her own heart.

But she looked down at Emma, whose eyes were still on hers, so innocent, like someone who had been lost for ages, yet had finally found what she was looking for, and couldn't stand to look away.

And she, herself, knew the feeling.

It was when a shockwave that shook the very air, followed by Grumpy's terrified, distant shout of, "IT'S HERE!" that she felt her gaze torn from her daughter, her eyes snapping to David's, and she felt herself pull Emma instinctively closer to her heart.

"The Curse," breathed David, panic in his eyes. "Snow, we have to get you both to that wardrobe. Now." A shaky smile. "You'll find me. Like we always do."

But she felt her heart freeze.

Both.

Emma had been born early.

She and Emma were no longer one.

Utter cold trailed through her, numbing everything it touched.

Panic unlike anything she's ever experienced raced through her.

"David," she whispered, the words so reluctant they hurt to speak, "the wardrobe. It only takes… one."

And it was like watching glass break, right beside her, as the realization shattered the only hope they had.

He looked down at Emma, who was starting to understand something was wrong. Her big eyes were looking between them both, her little fingers reaching toward David, more adamantly, and a tear falling down his cheek, he gave her his other hand, too, looking at her with even more sadness. "Then our plan has failed," he whispered. A sad smile at Emma, his baby girl, he said brokenly, "At least we're together."

She felt herself look down at her daughter, a tear falling down her own cheek.

If she didn't take Emma through the wardrobe, if she didn't protect her from the Curse, then they would all be taken to this… this horrible land, this land of no happy endings.

This land, where Regina's memories were bound to be unaffected.

A flash of horror struck her heart like lightning.

If Emma was Regina's only threat…

Would Emma even be safe with them?

The thundering clouds of the Curse were getting louder, the sky darkening with a greenish purple hue, casting a horrible shadow over the room.

She felt herself lift her head, an idea striking her through her panic.

But even with the idea, came something even more horrifying.

She had never intended to be away from Emma.

She had intended to be with her.

Always.

More tears were spilling down her cheeks, and she was hugging Emma closer to her, as if just her hold could keep her safe… and why couldn't that be enough?

But time was running out, and there was only one way to guarantee that Emma would be safe.

That Emma will find them one day.

Even if they won't…

Even if they won't watch her grow up.

She felt her eyes fall to her baby girl.

Her Emma.

All the months of decorating her nursery, wondering which toy will be her favorite.

Of wondering which of her old gowns would Emma wear to her first ball.

Of the first time her daughter calls her "Mom."

More tears were falling down her cheeks.

But she shut her eyes, trying to stop the tears.

Emma will find them, will save them, and they will be together again.

It was what their family did.

So swallowing the agony twisting her heart, she looked at her husband. "No," she whispered, voice panicked and laced with pain that no potion, no spell, no True Love's Kiss could ever heal. "You have to take her," she breathed, seeing David's eyes snap to her in shock. "Take her to the wardrobe," she whispered, even as her voice choked.

David's eyes shot wide. "Are you out of your mind!?" He looked from where Emma was still holding tight to his finger, and then back to her, his eyes even wider with the idea.

His horror was the same one in her heart, the same one tightening her grip around her baby, knowing she'll never be able to hold her like this again. "It's the only way," she broke out. "You have to send her through."

"You don't know what you're saying," breathed David. "This… this is our child, Snow! We can't…" He looked at her, another tear falling down his cheek.

"No, we must," she choked out, just barely stopping a sob. "We have to believe that she'll be safe there, that she'll come back for us." This time, she couldn't stop the sob, looking down at her baby girl wrapped in her arms. "We have to give her her best chance."

David held her gaze, everything in him wanting to fight it.

But they had no idea where they were going.

The only thing they knew was that this wardrobe would protect Emma from their own fate.

The thundering was growing louder, the purple smoke beginning to seep into the room.

David, looking nothing short of broken, seemed to make his decision.

And gently, he kissed Emma over her forehead, shutting his eyes.

She felt herself look back at Emma when he pulled back.

And again, Emma's green eyes were on hers.

And she felt a snap in her own chest, her heart breaking.

But she kissed Emma, right over David had, and she whispered, "I love you, Emma." She held her baby's gaze, something she could have held forever. But her own brows creased, more tears falling down her face, and she whispered, "I will see you again."

Emma just held that gaze, those big eyes, clear windows to her heart.

And she felt herself shut her eyes, and David took her from her arms. The urge to fight, to hold her, to keep her in her arms, was blinding, and she couldn't help the sob when she felt him lift her away, until she couldn't feel her anymore.

And Emma began to cry.

She felt her own eyes crack back open, hearing her baby's distress, those green eyes still on her, those little fingers reaching for her.

And David's own sob breaking out of his chest, he only hugged her closer to him, whispering a broken, "It's all right," to either his daughter or his wife, neither of whom believed it.

And she watched until she could no longer see Emma's eyes, until David was gone, until Emma's cries were drowned out by the thunder.

And she broke.

Sobs broke out of her, tears spilling down her face as loneliness has never felt like this. How her arms have never felt so empty, her heart never so cold.

How she missed her daughter so much it was agony, how she loved her so much, how unfair everything was, because all she wanted was Emma, was her family together.

She had once fought only for her own happiness.

But now, she would give anything, anything, to give it to her baby girl.

He drew his sword with one hand, unable to stop the tears falling down his cheeks, burning as painfully as the broken heart in his chest.

As he ran, he spared a look at his daughter.

Emma.

She was crying.

The sound of it something that made tears spill from his eyes instinctively.

She was still trying to reach for Snow.

And his heart snapped again, because a baby, his baby, his princess, this pure, innocent little beautiful person in his arms did not deserve any of this.

Because right now, no one was suffering more from this Curse than Emma.

He ran through the halls, finding the room that housed the wardrobe, panic racing through him as smoke trailed through the windows, making it harder to breathe.

But Black Guards spotted him, running to cut him off from the doors, and he felt even more fear, because he's never fought with something so precious in his arms.

The fight was unsteady, sharp and brutal, the tip of a sword cutting into his shoulder as he kept it from striking Emma. She was still crying, and he was still trying to tell her it was all right, however untrue that was, as he managed to knock out one of the Guards.

The other however, slashed his sword toward his chest, nearly again striking Emma, and with a sickness David realized they either didn't care if they killed her, or that was exactly their plan. He felt his heart lurch as he barely caught the blade with his own, it hovering inches over Emma's little face, and suddenly he was even more desperate to get Emma into that wardrobe.

Regina and her Guards didn't care that Emma was a baby.

She stood in their way; that was all they saw.

So with a furious growl for nearly taking his baby girl from him, David managed to slide his own sword through the Guard's ribs. He dropped heavily, and David held Emma close as he ran into the room, all the way to the wardrobe.

He opened the doors with shaking hands.

He stared from the waiting floor of the wardrobe, to the little girl in his arms.

She was still crying.

He bent to his knee, and he held her to his chest, shutting his eyes, trying to pour every ounce of his love into her. Hoping that it was something she could feel, that maybe her heart could remember, even if she couldn't.

She stopped crying.

Slowly, he pulled back, facing her.

Those big, green eyes were on his.

Those little fingers grasping at the edge of a tear in his sleeve because she couldn't reach his hand.

And his heart shattered all over again.

"I love you, Emma," he whispered, even as more tears fell. "Daddy loves you." And like tearing himself apart, he laid her on the floor of the wardrobe, offering his hand one more time, a sob breaking when she took his finger with a smile. "Find us," he whispered, every ounce of his need for her to find them.

His need to see her again.

His daughter.

Another sob wracked him.

But a crash behind him made him turn to see more Guards bursting into the room.

He whipped back around, giving Emma a smile, because the last thing she sees of him for now should be his love.

But at the release of his finger from hers, tears brimmed in her own eyes, and David felt his chest ache knowing the last thing he'll see of her for twenty-eight years will be her sadness.

And his eyes on hers, he shut the doors, feeling a coldness sweep through him, a sharp pain in his chest, a hole in his heart that he knew wouldn't be filled for twenty-eight years.

A hole he knew he wouldn't be able to live with until he saw her again.

But it was when the sword sliced through his abdomen that he was shocked back to the chaos of the moment.

He felt the agony shock through him, sharp and horrible.

But it was nothing compared to the agony of letting her go.

He felt himself fall, felt the blood staining his skin, his clothes, the floor that would have been her home.

He watched the Guards tear open the wardrobe, to find it empty.

And he smiled.

Because she was safe.

"Emma," he whispered, so much in her name alone, hoping wherever she was, she could hear him.

That wherever she was, she will always know how much they love her.

Emma woke slowly.

Consciousness took its time, like she was rising to the surface of mud, still caught in the heaviness of the dream.

The dream that felt so vivid, as real as a memory.

A dream of a scene that felt so familiar, that with shock, Emma realized was a story she knew, like a bedtime story that had never given her sweet dreams.

The same story that had been in Henry's storybook.

Her story.

She found herself picturing the baby in the dream—Emma.

Her.

She'd dreamed about… herself?

And she's seen that castle before, that room. Not only in Henry's storybook.

Except the last time she'd seen it… it was destroyed.

Though, for as much as it was her dream…

…she wasn't seeing it… as herself.

It was as if she was dreaming of someone else's memories.

As sounds crescendoed in her ears, her mind caught between unconsciousness and waking, hearing voices she couldn't yet make out, her mind was racing, putting together the pieces—

It was almost as if she had been seeing through… her parents.

She dreamed she was Snow—Mary Margaret—her mother, the day she and David had abandoned her, and it had looked exactly as it did in Henry's storybook.

However, Emma didn't just see it in her dream.

She… felt it.

In her dream, Emma had felt their fear, their panic at the prospect of losing her.

The Curse was coming, the wardrobe had just been completed, and Emma had just been born.

But her dream changed the story she knew.

Within Snow's thoughts was the devastation that she would no longer be able to travel with her to the new world. The idea that Emma and Snow would go together had been the only reason that her parents had even considered such a plan.

That hadn't been in Henry's storybook.

But more than feeling their fear of sending her away, Emma felt something she'd never felt before.

She felt their love.

Snow had hugged her baby—Emma herself—so tight, her hold felt so warm, their connection, minutes old, already so strong. Emma had seen her own eyes watching Snow's, reflecting that love.

And it wasn't only Snow the dream had shown her, either.

It was… David.

The look on his face when Emma had grabbed his finger for the first time.

The way he'd held her, protected her, like there was nothing in the world more precious to him.

The way he'd nearly died sending her through the wardrobe.

"Daddy loves you."

She'd heard those words before, but they had never been spoken to her. They were always gifted to other kids, kids who'd had fathers to love them.

She could still hear the echo of his voice, and a feeling of such warmth ran through her.

His relief that she was safe had nearly washed away the pain of his injury.

But even that wasn't enough to cure the agony of letting her go.

The heartbreak of both David and Snow, over her.

It was like a physical snap in her chest.

To let her go tore them apart.

She's never once dreamed like that before.

She's never once had a dream that felt so real before—except, except the one she had in Neverland, the one from the foster home, when she'd wished on yet another broken star.

Any dreams of her parents were never… never so vivid, and never like… that.

Even after the Curse in Storybrooke was broken, even after learning that it was all true, even after Henry told her the true story of her abandonment…

She had never dreamed of it.

And would certainly have never dreamed of it like that.

How it was told to her seemed like they left her out of obligation to their Kingdom, to their people. Like they looked at her as some object, just something to save them.

But that dream…

It felt more like their obligation to her, the best choice they felt they could make within the minutes to make a decision.

And there was something else in that dream Emma had never felt before.

A parents' love.

How could her subconscious even fabricate such a feeling?

All the times she'd spent imagining what it would feel like to have parents who loved her, and none of it came close to how it had felt in her dream.

It was everything she'd ever dreamed of, to have parents to feel such a way about her. It was so warm, so safe.

All that love, in both David and Snow, was for her.

And it terrified her, because she was awake enough to know it was only a dream, and she didn't know if she could handle facing a reality without it.

And she never thought she could have felt jealous of her own imagination's manifestation, of that baby in her mother and father's arms. She never could have thought she'd be envious that she didn't know what that baby felt, to experience that hold, that love, for real, even for only a moment.

Sounds crescendoed in her ears as she rose closer to wakefulness. She felt herself try to fight it, try to hold onto the feelings from her dream like grasping onto a slippery rope that was tied to everything she's ever wanted.

But, suddenly, she could feel something around her.

Something warm, something comforting, something so familiar.

"Emma?!"

"Emma!"

Two voices broke through, worn like they'd been saying her name for some time.

And Emma realized she knew them.

They sounded just as afraid as they had been in her dream.

She felt her eyes open, shocking her back into vivid clarity.

"Emma!"

Emma blinked at the harmonized, relieved gasp of her name.

And she found herself looking up at Mary Margaret and David.

They both had tears on their cheeks, but smiles at their lips, looking down at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

But that wasn't all.

That wasn't what felt so familiar.

Emma felt her heart skip.

She was in their arms.

Emma was held so gently, so carefully between them, as if they thought she'd break, as if they couldn't take the chance she would.

And Emma felt herself fall still, with the shock of a realization.

The way Mary Margaret was holding her now.

Pulled up so close to her chest, to her heart. Her arms around her so tight and strong, like her arms alone could keep Emma safe from anything, and it even felt, to Emma, like they could.

A hold that felt so…

Familiar.

So much so that she suddenly couldn't breathe.

"Emma?" asked David suddenly, both their smiles fading at Emma's stillness. "Are you okay?"

"Emma?" whispered Mary Margaret.

Emma's eyes found Mary Margaret's, and settled there.

Just… looking.

And she felt Mary Margaret freeze, holding her gaze, like she felt the sudden connection the same way Emma did. Like just the look in Emma's eyes held unsaid words in a language only Mary Margaret could understand.

And Emma knew.

Whatever she had just experienced, it wasn't a dream.

Mary Margaret's hold, the look in her eyes now…

It was the same as the one in her dream, reflected in the baby's eyes—her eyes.

It was no dream.

Somehow, it was real.

And it wasn't Mary Margaret she was looking at now.

It was her mother.

Emma felt tears brim her eyes, still looking at Mary Margaret.

Her mother.

"Mom," whispered Emma suddenly, her whisper so loud, so musical in the silence.

Mary Margaret's gasp was mirrored by David, both of whom were looking at her in shock.

Emma smiled wider, because nothing has ever felt more right. "Mom," she repeated, making herself smile wider, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, the way it made her heart feel warm, the way the word itself felt like a tight hug.

A little hiccuped sob broke out of Mary Margaret's chest, with a smile as bright as sunlight off her namesake.

And Emma looked at David, her eyes meeting his.

But it wasn't David she was looking at.

It was her father.

David stared at her, caught in shock and awe, a fresh tear falling down his cheek.

Emma's eyes found his hand, the warmth of a memory she somehow didn't need the dream to remember moving her own hand.

He watched as she slowly, hesitantly, wrapped her fingers around his.

And such a warmth spread through her, because she's done this before.

David stared in shock.

And she smiled at him, lifting her eyes back to his, that same feeling so something so right in her chest as she whispered, "Dad."

A gasped sob broke out of his own chest, like she'd just said what he'd waited his life to hear. Another tear falling down his cheek, a smile so bright on his face, happier than Emma's ever seen him.

It was a joy that all three of them felt together, a moment they had all shared before.

Twenty-eight years ago.

Emma just smiled more, a tear falling down her own face, and it was all it took for her parents to gather her into their arms even tighter, pulling her to them, wrapping her between them in a hug that felt so perfect, that felt like she fit.

"Emma," gasped out her mother over her shoulder, holding her even tighter. "I'm so sorry." Her tears hit Emma's shoulder. "I am so sorry," she choked out. "When we… when we s-sent you away, we—we never knew how—how horrible—" Her voice broke.

"Emma," David took over, voice just as broken, holding her even tighter. "We never meant to hurt you, and—and we should have known how much you went through and—and…" His voice caught. "Emma, baby, we're so sorry."

And Emma felt tears rush down her cheeks, never feeling so loved, so cared for.

"I forgive you," she whispered, a shaky smile at her lips, because she did.

She didn't want to care about the past anymore.

She didn't want them to hurt anymore.

She didn't want to hurt anymore.

She just wanted them, and she just wanted to be theirs.

They both pulled back at her words, looking at her with unadulterated, desperate hope.

"You do?" breathed her mother, looking so fragile, as if the gentlest breeze could shatter her.

"Yes," she said softly, meaning it, watching those broken smiles return to her parents, however stunned those smiles were. Emma let out a breath, saying, "I was so angry, and so… confused, my whole life." Their smiles faded a little, a haunted look in their eyes, like they didn't just sympathize; they understood. "And when I met you," she went on softly, "it just felt like… I was just your… savior."

It was as if Emma could see their hearts break in their eyes.

"But," she whispered, "I just… I had this… dream." She looked at them, seeing something stunned replace their guilt. "It was of… us. Right after I was born. But… it felt like it was a… memory somehow." Her eyes shut, those feelings still so vivid, so strong. She opened her eyes even as a tear fell down her cheek. "It was like… I was you," she whispered to them both.

Both of their eyes widened.

"It was the night I was…" Emma couldn't say the words, but her parents heard them nonetheless, if the flash of pain in their eyes was any indicator. Emma's eyes settled on Mary Margaret. "You were supposed to go with me," she whispered.

Mary Margaret's face creased, another tear falling for twenty-eight years of what almost was. "I wish I could have," she broke out.

What had seemed like she had simply been planned, been had to save them, was wrong.

The realization felt so much softer than what she'd believed for so long.

That they had only done what they felt was right in a horrible, impossible situation.

"We… we had a dream, too," began David hesitantly, exchanging a look with Mary Margaret, brows creased with pain. "Of… well, as you," he whispered.

Emma froze.

"You were in this foster home," said Mary Margaret unsteadily. "You… you were wishing… for us," she breathed.

It was the same dream that she'd just re-lived.

The first night she lost hope.

The first night she realized that the stars were either broken, or simply didn't listen to her.

Emma looked at her parents, seeing the pain in their eyes.

The understanding.

Everything she'd tried to tell them was in their expressions now.

But Emma just felt herself smile, a warm tear falling down her cheek as she whispered, "It came true."

The look on their faces could have melted ice.

But that haunted look still in their eyes, Mary Margaret whispered, "We're so sorry, Emma."

But Emma shook her head, giving them a broken smile of her own. "It's okay," she said softly, watching as a relief dawned over them every time she spoke her forgiveness of them. "When I… when I dreamed of you both… as you both…" Her faint smile grew. "I could feel…" Her eyes filled with tears. "You loved me." A little choked laugh eased from her chest. Because she's never, not once, felt that before. Parents. Who loved her.

They both pulled her back into their arms.

"We always have," whispered Mary Margaret, voice shaky with emotion, and Emma smiled even more because she felt the truth.

"We always will." breathed David over her other shoulder, his hand running over her hair.

"We love you so much, Emma," whispered Mary Margaret.

And Emma felt that warmth fill her even more, as she hugged them back and whispered, "I love you, too."

They both pulled back in even more them both return it, their happiness like a physical light. "We will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you, angel," whispered David, wiping Emma's tears away.

"We promise," added her mother. She looked at Emma, like she couldn't believe the moment they were in. She hugged her again. "Oh, Emma, we are just so relieved you're all right."

Emma felt her brows crease at her mother's relief in confusion. Her mind had been so caught up in the dream, the moment.

It was only then, she remembered where they were.

Neverland.

Pan.

Pan had been holding Mary Margaret and David hostage, he'd gone to attack them, but then had changed his target to her—

—she couldn't get her magic to protect her fast enough and—

That was the last thing she remembered.

She pulled sharply back from Mary Margaret, eyes finding the cave, breaking her out of what had been so much happiness. Reality rushed in like a sharp winter wind in summer. "Wait—" she gasped. "Pan—"

"He's gone," said David quickly, with a relieved smile at the fact, and Emma felt her own panic begin to ease.

"How?" she breathed.

"Well," said Mary Margaret, exchanging a look with David, "Pan… attacked you, but he used the last of his own magic. He began to take the magic of that Neverland flame, and we… convinced the Lost Boys to free us." Her brows creased. "But by the time we were free…"

"He already attacked," whispered David, his own brows kneaded with the panic they must have felt.

Emma felt her heart skip a beat.

"But…" said Mary Margaret, smiling through a wince. "David and I… we ran to… protect you."

Emma's eyes widened.

"But… something happened," said David. "We had just gotten to you, and the attack was about to hit us, but… it… stopped," he said, puzzlement clear in his voice.

"It what?" breathed Emma.

"It felt like some sort of magic," said Mary Margaret. "It… protected us, and Pan's attack instead hit him."

But Emma was still hung up on their insinuation.

Looking at them with her own awe, she said, "You were going to take that attack for me?" she whispered. "You were going to… to die for me?" Her voice was barely audible.

Mary Margaret and David smiled a little at each other, before smiling even wider at her. "We meant it, Emma," said Mary Margaret softly. "We will never let anything happen to you again. You might be a savior," she said, "but from now on, we will be yours."

"Always," added David softly.

Emma felt herself smile, tears falling again down her cheeks.

Emma felt herself let out a shaky breath.

It was over.

They were all safe.

But that made her suddenly realize something was missing.

Someone.

She jerked up.

"Killian," she breathed, voice laced with panic.

Her whole body ran cold.

How could she have—

"Where's Killian?!" exclaimed Emma, voice cracking with fear.

Both David and Mary Margaret's eyes widened.

"He—Pan attacked him," breathed David.

"He was knocked unconscious—" said Mary Margaret through a gasp as both of them quickly moved to get up.

Emma was stumbling to her feet, eyes scanning the room in a panic.

There.

Across the cave lay Killian, crumpled beneath his black leather.

Her heart stopped.

"KILLIAN!" Emma nearly screamed, running to him. She dropped to her knees at his side, her trembling hands on him, shaking him a little. "Killian? Killian!"

But at her touch, he winced, and it was the most beautiful thing Emma had ever seen.

"Killian," she breathed, a shaky smile at her lips, seeing him move, seeing him alive.

At her voice, his eyes snapped open. "Em—" he cringed, his hand finding his side, and Emma wondered how many times someone could break the same ribs over and over. "Emma?" he breathed, his own voice panicked as he struggled to find her.

The moment he saw her, relief broke out over his features, "Emma!" She smiled, and he shot off the ground, despite a heavy cringe and a groan he caught with his teeth, grabbing her in a tight hug, pulling her into his chest, into an embrace that made her eyes shut, tears stinging them. She hugged him back just as tightly, a brand new sense of warmth rushing through her, like a magic of its own.

"Are you okay?" she whispered over his shoulder.

"Aye," he breathed. "You?" "Yeah," she whispered through a smile, snuggling her head into his shoulder, nearly collapsing into him, into the relief that they were all safe, they did it, they were okay.

But Killian suddenly pulled back, looking around with fear. "Is Pan—"

"He's gone," said David, firm and relieved.

"What?" breathed Killian. "How?"

"We're… not sure," said Mary Margaret, looking from David, back to Killian. "Pan sent an attack at Emma—" Emma felt Killian's hold around her tighten, pulling her even closer to him— "and David and I made it to her in time, but something happened when we did," said Mary Margaret. "Some kind of magic saved us, but it wasn't Emma's. It sent Pan's attack back at him, and he was destroyed."

Killian stared at her in utter shock. But he let out a weary sigh of relief, holding Emma to him even tighter. "Thank the bloody gods," he whispered.

Emma smiled, feeling waves of relief trailing through her from his embrace, feeling safer than she's ever felt before.

"I'm relieved you both are all right," added Killian to David and Mary Margaret.

David smiled. "And we're relieved you are." His brows kneaded a little. "Pan got you good… you sure you're all right?"

Killian smiled, dismissing the concern, but Emma could see how hard he was trying to keep the wince out of his face. "Aye," he said. "A few bruises, I'm sure, but I'll be all right."

Emma slowly helped Killian to his feet. He couldn't hide the cringe, even having to take his hand from hers to grab at his ribs. Emma's brows creased. "I can try to heal that," she said softly.

"Let's get home to that boy of yours first, aye?" said Killian, wince easing.

Emma felt a warm skip in her chest at the thought of Henry.

"Did you…"

They all turned to see the little group of Lost Boys standing behind them, staring at them with painfully hopeful eyes that were braced for a disappointment they didn't seem like they could take.

The littlest one had spoken, and he finished, "Did you mean what you said?" He spoke the words to Mary Margaret and David, voice small. "Will you still take us with you?"

Mary Margaret knelt to his level, smiling. "Of course," she said softly.

But Emma felt Killian's uncertainty before he even voiced it. "The only problem," he said reluctantly, "is how we're getting back to Storybrooke."

"I know how."

They all looked at another Boy, who looked about Henry's age. "I saw how Baelfire did it," said the Boy, making Emma and Killian both suddenly flinch at the name. "He used his Shadow and pixie dust. I dunno how to take off Shadows… But—but we could use one of your Shadows, and…" He looked at Emma. "I think your magic could work."

Emma blinked. With a little of that bravery that got her here, she smiled, nodding. And with it, something flared in her chest a little, like her magic ensuring her she could trust it to lead them home.

The Boy smiled something hesitant, but hope rippled through them all like a pebble skipping water.

"I can get the flint to separate a Shadow," said a Boy. "I saw'd Pan do it before."

"We can use mine," offered Killian, with a little reassuring smile to the Boy, who seemed surprised to see kindness from him. "We can attach it to my sail; get us home."

Emma felt herself smile.

Home.

"Get us that flint," said Killian gently to the Boys, "and find us on my ship, aye?"

The Boys let out shaky smiles, at the idea, the hope that they were actually going to be free.

They all but ran out of the cave to find the flint, only one Boy, the littlest, pausing by Mary Margaret.

"Don't leave without us," he whispered.

She smiled at him. "We won't. I promise." She spoke the words to the Boy, but her eyes were on Emma.

And after a second, the Boy smiled, and then bounded after his brothers.

"Wait—" said David, looking at Emma and Killian, eyes darkening. "Speaking of Neal, where the hell is he?" A little anger building— "He took some deal of Pan's to get you here—"

Emma exchanged a look with Killian, both of them holding each other a little tighter.

And Emma cleared her throat. "Neal…" she stumbled a little over his name. "Neal did find us," she said softly. "But… he didn't take Pan's deal."

"What?" breathed Mary Margaret, and David's brows lifted.

"He warned us," said Emma, eyes burning a little, "about what Pan did, taking you both. He told us not to go."

"He did?" said David with surprise.

Emma swallowed. "But… a Lost Boy followed him when he found us, and…" Her voice trailed off, her throat closing up.

Killian finished for her, "He took an arrow that would have killed me."

At their heavy silence, Mary Margaret and David caught onto what they didn't say.

"He's… dead?" whispered David.

Emma's eyes burning, she nodded.

"He died saving Killian?" breathed Mary Margaret in shock.

Emma nodded, unable to speak.

The four of them were caught in a moment of silence, of touched sadness. Something Emma hasn't quite processed yet, but chose to, for now, smile, because Neal had died for her happiness.

But, tears in her own eyes, Mary Margaret took a step closer to Emma, brushing the hair out of her face in such a tender touch, one that made Emma smile. "He told us," she whispered, "that he would do anything to make it up to you." Her own smile touched her lips. "It looks like he did." She took a breath, exchanging a look with David before settling her eyes back on Emma. "And… we know the feeling."

Emma smiled.

Her parents and Killian all nearly died for her happiness, and Neal had.

It was something she'd never experienced before—something she never thought she would experience.

To go from a life where no one cared, to a life where everyone did.

Emma felt her eyes burn, but the heat wasn't a painful one. She smiled, her gaze on her Mary Margaret and David. Her parents. Her parents. Ever since that dream, that memory, she could feel that familiarity. She could feel the love.

They were her parents, and they actually felt like her parents.

"Mom." she felt herself whisper, seeing a sparkle in Mary Margaret's eyes at the title. "Dad," she whispered, looking at David, whose own eyes were suddenly mistier. And from her side, Emma could just see Killian's brows shoot up in surprise.

"Emma," they both whispered at once, voices like harmonies of their True Love, and they both pulled Emma into a hug, one that made her shut her eyes and she reciprocated it, hugging them just as tightly as they held her. She felt two tears hit her shoulder.

But her eyes opened, finding Killian standing beside the three of them, a smile on his face, but a catch in his eyes, like he didn't know his place.

But before Emma could do anything, Mary Margaret reached out and took Killian's arm, pulling him into the embrace with them. At which David rolled his eyes, but moved to pat the pirate on the back, the men meeting eyes genuinely. Emma felt Killian wrap his arm around her waist, and she shut her eyes.

This feeling…

It was something Emma had never thought she'd have.

A family.

It made a tear roll down her cheek, like a drop of rain on dry land.

But this family was missing one member, whom Emma knew was very eager for them all to be with him again.

So she pulled back, three sets of eyes on her, and she said softly, "Let's go home."

-.-.-.

a/n: about 2 chapters left of this one! <3

-.-.-.

tag list: @kmomof4 @klynn-stormz @stahlop @ilovemesomekillianjones @hookmecaptain @tiganasummertree @jadehowlettthewolf @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @pirateprincessofpizza @stahlop @snowbellewells @eddisfargo @motherkatereloyshipper @confessionsofthemword @killian-whump

[overlordofthelollipopguild]

Trying Something New - a Captain Swan, Once Upon a Time fan fiction

Summary:

After Rumplestiltskin traps Emma and Killian in the past, they manage to escape him and realize they will have to live in the past in order to catch up to the future.

Read on fanfiction.net or AO3 or below.

Note: so Emma is using a lot of advanced magic in this chapter. It's for plot purposes, but she will face issues with doing so much magic. Please ignore the logistics, this is fanfiction after all. 

Chapter 1: Stuck

It wasn’t working. Her magic was back, but the stupid wand wasn’t working. 

“Do you think he lied to us?” Killian asked from where he was leaning against a table. He was back in his regular attire of his long black leather coat, leather pants, and black vest and shirt. 

Marian was still knocked out, but she wouldn’t remain that way forever. 

“I don’t know.” Emma huffed, frustrated, twirling in her prison dress. The least Rumplestiltskin could’ve done was return her jeans and leather jacket. 

Waving the wand around, she attempted once again to open the portal. She was tempted to summon the Dark One back and strangle him. Without the portal, they couldn’t return to their own time, and Emma wasn’t going to stay trapped in Rumplestiltskin’s vault for the next thirty years. “I don’t think he would’ve lied about this. As long as I can wield magic, I should be able to open the portal. So, why isn’t this working?” Frustration overwhelmed her. 

“There could be a number of reasons, love.” Killian said, though he wasn’t sure what could be the cause. 

Irritated and angry, Emma wildly waved the wand around, failing to notice a faint glow pass over Marian’s features. She gripped the wand tight enough it was surprising the stick didn't snap into two pieces. 

“Perhaps we should change tactics.” Killian suggested, worried at Emma's emotional state. 

Emma’s hands dropped to her side. “What do you mean?” Her tone was snappish, but it wasn't directed at him. Killian was trying to help; Emma knew she was the one failing. 

“It’s possible that the vault and all of the magical objects here could be interfering.” Killian theorized. “If we can escape, maybe the portal will work elsewhere?”

Though she knew hers and Killian’s knowledge of magic was limited, it was a good theory. It was worth a shot. “Okay, you pick her up, and I’ll try to teleport us somewhere.” 

Killian did as she asked, and once Marian was secured over his shoulder, Emma took his hand and closed her eyes. She'd never teleported herself or people before, but she remembered Regina's tutelage. 

She needed to pick a place she'd been before. 

Emma brought forth a picture in her mind. At first it was the trees of the Enchanted Forest, but she needed a destination in mind. If she just picked a random spot in the forest, it’s likely that something would go wrong. Instead, her mind viewed Lake Nostos. It would be filled with water and a siren at this point in time, but it was the only place other than the Jolly Roger or her parents castle that Emma was familiar with enough to see it. 

Feeling the pull of her magic, Emma released it. Feeling airy, like she was drifting away, Emma held tighter to the picture of Lake Nostos, keeping it to the front of her mind. Finally she felt solid, whole, and there was hard ground underneath her feet. Opening her eyes, she found that they were in the forest by the lake. “Come on, let’s go. The siren’s still around.” 

Killian nodded, turning to go, but as he did, Emma glanced back. 

In the water, not too far away, was an image of Killian, which startled Emma enough to pause. Why was she seeing him in the lake? 

A hand grabbed her and pulled her away. “Don’t know what you’re seeing, Swan, but we need to go.” There was urgency to Killian's tone, his eyes glancing at the lake, as he rushed them away. 

As they ran through the forest, hoping not to hear the siren, Emma couldn’t help but wonder why she saw him. Didn’t sirens show you what you wanted most? Your heart’s desire? Her heart desired returning home to her parents and Henry. She didn’t want Killian. Or, well, she did, but that was too complicated to even consider. When they returned to their time, Emma figured they could talk, but she didn’t know what she wanted between them. Not now when they had to figure out how to get home. 

It wasn’t as though his feelings were a secret. Hell, Zelena used his lo—feelings, his feelings— for her against him in order to take her magic. Emma knew that he wanted a relationship, a future with her, but she wasn’t sure her heart was ready. Her romantic history sucked. There was Neal, her married boyfriend in her early twenties, Graham, Walsh, and well, skips didn’t really count. She wasn’t meant to find love or happiness. Even for a man who changed for her and would follow her to the ends of the earth. 

“Want to try again?” Killian asked after a while, when they slowed down after being far enough away. Perhaps now that they were out of the vault, she'd have more success with the portal. 

Emma waved the wand and still failed to produce a portal. “Fuck.” After ten more minutes of trying, she flung the wand against a tree. It thwacked against the trunk before bouncing off onto the ground, rolling uselessly on the dirt. “We’re stuck here.”

“Well, what, we have a few years before the curse?” Killian asked. He picked up the wand and pocketed it. It might not work for Emma at the moment, but it might certainly come in handy down the road. 

“Nearly three.” Emma huffed. “My parents took some time before they met up again, then I think maybe the war with George started, and then they fought Regina a bit until she backed off to create the curse. That took like two years. Then there was nine months until me and the curse came along.”

“If we can’t get back to the future, we might have to wait it out.” Killian said. “We’d go somewhere away from your parents’ kingdom, stay under the radar, and then when the curse comes, well, we might have to get frozen with Cora to avoid being in Storybrooke with your other self.” 

“Three years is a long time to be away from my family.” Emma didn’t like the idea of being stuck here for so long. She knew she couldn’t interfere with her parents’ past anymore. Hell, she almost erased herself and Henry from existence. It would be hard not seeing Henry for so long. If they ended up waiting it out until time caught up, then Henry wouldn’t even realize she was ever gone. However, three years was a long time. Living whatever life in the past might very well change her into a person Henry wouldn’t recognize.

“Four.” Killian corrected. “If we’re stuck here, will need to ride out the first curse and Pan’s curse. The one that brought everyone back here while you and Henry went to New York.”

He was right of course and Emma silently scolded herself for forgetting that there was an extra year they’d have to wait out. So they wouldn’t go back to Storybrooke until Snow’s curse. Even then, they’d have to hide out until their past selves time traveled so that there wouldn't be two of them running around. “God time travel is confusing.” She groaned leaning against a tree as she rubbed her temples. “Okay, so what next?”

“Well, first, what do we need to do with her?” Killian asked, motioning to the still unconscious Marian. 

“There’s nothing we can do with her.” Emma admitted. “I mean, she was supposed to die, so her being alive changes things. She’ll want to find her husband and son, which will alter Robin’s past and Regina’s future with him.” Emma winced. That was another thing she was screwing up. While she and Regina weren't best friends, Emma didn't want to ruin her chance at happiness if it meant Regina would stay on their side and be a better mother to Henry. 

“Unless, you send her away?” Killian suggested, trying to figure out how best to keep the timeline intact. “It’s only a few years until the Curse, and if you send her far enough away, then it might just take that long for her to return.” 

That was a good point, but could they chance it? “What if she’s resourceful enough to get here sooner?” Emma asked, playing Devil's Advocate. “A mother trying to get to her son is a forced to be reckoned with, you know?”

“Aye.” One such mother was standing before him and Killian’s heart went out to her. It must be killing her that her magic was failing her when she needed to get back to Henry. While it wouldn’t be a four year separation from Henry’s perspective, it would be from Emma’s and she already missed out on so much of Henry’s life. However, back to the matter at hand, there was too much at stake to just let Marian go off on her own. If they woke her up, could they convince her of the truth? Of their being from the future and her death in the original timeline? Of course, she might just label them as insane and run off on her own. 

A groan from the woman startled Emma and Killian. So much for waking her themselves. The universe wasn't being kind to them at the moment. Maybe that was a price for time traveling, no matter how unintentional it was on their part. 

“Shit.” Emma cursed, not ready to face Marian when they still had to figure out what to do with her. They needed to figure out a plan, quickly. 

Marian rubbed her head, eyes opening, taking in her surroundings. Slowly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Brown eyes stared up at them with wariness. “Who are you?” She looked between them, confusion spreading across her features. “Better question, who am I?”

Emma and Killian shared surprised looks. “I didn’t hit her that hard.” Killian muttered so only Emma heard him. 

“Um, you don’t remember?” Emma asked, watching Marian carefully. How could she not remember? There was no way Killian knocking her out messed with her mind. 

“Remember what?” Marian asked. Her brows furrowed. 

“We met on the road.” Killian supplied. “You were headed to Marawick Harbor, in the Kingdom of Stahlsburg." The lie came easily enough. After all, they needed to come up with a story for the locals; they'd just include Marian now. "We ran into each other and camped out, but our horses have been stolen it seems. You offered to take first watch, so we assumed you were attacked from behind while we slept.”

Emma almost believed the story, he was that convincing. That was a good skill to have since they'd need to come up with more lies to live in this time. 

Marian tried to stand, and both Killian and Emma stepped forward to help her up. 

“Take it easy.” Emma said. “We don’t know how hard you were hit.” She glanced at Killian again, and he was clearly at a loss. 

“Oh, well, that certainly explains why my head is pounding.” Marian smiled tightly, though her eyes still held doubt about them. “So if we’re headed to the same place, how far do we have left to travel?”

“It’s a good few weeks by horse.” Killian said. He met Emma’s eyes and she knew what he was going to suggest. 

In fact, Emma preferred getting out of Regina’s territory as soon as possible. Besides, if Marian freaked out or decided not to keep Emma’s magic a secret, Emma could try and call upon her magic and erase Marian's memory. It seemed there wasn't anything left for her to remember anyway, but what caused Marian's memory loss?

“Can you keep a secret?” Killian asked, his tone protective. 

Marian narrowed her eyes. “What kind of secret?” She stepped away from them. Understandable. She woke up with two strangers and no memory. The fact that she gave them a chance to explain was more grace than most would give. 

“I have light magic.” Emma said. “I can teleport us to town, but I’d rather not broadcast that to everyone. I hope we can trust you with this secret.”

Sensing that Emma was earnest, Marian nodded. “I suppose I can trust you. Who are you again?” Really though, Marian wasn't sure if she could trust them, but her instincts told her that the couple was safe. They didn't seem nefarious and without her memories, they were all she had to rely on to find out who she was, even if they just met her. 

Emma didn’t think giving their real names was a good idea. Thinking quickly, she made something up. “Emily Jones.” Emily was close enough to Emma for her to respond to it. Surely Jones was common enough in this land as it was in hers. Maybe…hopefully. “My husband is…Colin.” It was the first name she could think of which sounded close enough to Killian. Or well, it had the hard C sound. 

Killian looked proud of her quick response. “Aye. You told us your name was Maria, but not sure if you have a surname or not.” 

Marian swayed a bit on her feet. Her head swam unsteadying her. 

“Perhaps you should rest and have some water.” Killian suggested, reaching out to steady Marian. “I know Emily needs some time to prepare her magic.”

“That’s a good idea.” Marian agreed, as her head continued to pound. Just how hard was she hit? Who did it? Why couldn't she remember anything? Even her name, Maria, didn't sound quite right. If that was the name she gave them, then why wouldn't she give her real name?

Emma grabbed Killian’s waterskin and handed it to Marian. “Here you go.” 

As Marian settled against a tree, Emma pulled Killian away. “Okay, there’s no way she’d just forget everything from hitting her head.”

“Perhaps when we were in the Dark One’s vault something affected her.” Killian suggested, his brows drawn together. “We were surrounded by a number of dark objects, and we don't know what any of them were capable of doing." 

“Maybe.” Emma said. She shook her head; Marian's memory loss would be something that they'd tackle later on. Though it was an unexpected blessing since they now didn't have to convince her not to go off in search of Robin and Roland. Emma felt guilty for lying, but they couldn't risk more changes to the timeline. Her focus shifted back to Killian. “Tell me about Marawick Harbor.”

“It’s in Prince Eric’s kingdom.” Killian said. “It’s a port town which fell into Cora’s protection bubble when the curse hit. I docked my ship there a few times over the centuries. It’s large enough to blend in and find work.” In fact, it was a perfect hide out. Populated enough to blend in and far from Regina's clutches, and still close enough to be affected by the Curse. 

“I can’t teleport to a place I’ve never been.” Emma explained. “Regina said that teleporting sort of requires knowing your destination. That’s why I brought us to Lake Nostos, because I’ve been here and seen it before.” Even if it changed a bit in the coming decades. “How can I teleport us now?”

Killian’s brow furrowed adorably as he tried to come up with a solution.

Stop it. Emma berated herself. He’s not adorable. If they were going to be reliant on each other, she needed to squash her feelings down so they could focus on surviving. 

“What if I describe the place to you?” He said after awhile. “Would that help paint a picture you can use?” 

It wasn’t exactly something she tried before. Hell, she barely learned any magic before, but her magic might very well be a key to living in this realm and in this time. “It can’t hurt to try. Go ahead and describe it to me.” She closed her eyes to concentrate. 

He began describing the town as best as he could remember, particularly the docks. As the sun was setting, Killian described the docks more at night, telling Emma about darkened corners, likely because they’d need to appear somewhere hidden as not to raise suspicion. He described the sea and how it sparkled under moonlight; the sound of the water lapping against docks ships; the noise of nearby taverns and the main street.

As Emma listened to his words, she could see it in her mind. Killian’s words painted a detailed, tangible picture. He certainly was quite the storyteller. Before long, Emma pictured a dark spot behind crates on a dock. “I think I’m ready.” She kept her eyes closed, feeling around for his arm. Emma didn't dare open her eyes for fear of losing the picture. 

Killian waved Marian over. “She’s ready.”

When she heard Marian step next to them, Emma spoke. “Hold onto me as tight as you can.” When she felt them grasp her arms, Emma reached deep inside her for her magic. Feeling it coming alive under her skin, Emma held onto Killian tighter. I want to go to Marawick Harbor. She repeated that over and over, releasing her magic. She felt her body dissipate, tightening her hold on her passengers as she felt herself come apart, floating in air as though she were nothingness, before feeling her body came back to herself. Would she ever get used to the sensations that came with teleporting? 

Opening her eyes, she found herself, Killian, and Marian in a darkened corner of docks, behind crates. She could hear the ocean to her left. A breeze brought about the briny, salty scent of the waters. 

Killian peeked out from the crates, looking around to see where they were, before quickly ducking back down. He turned to her with a huge, proud, amazed smiled. “You did it, love. You brought us to Marawick. Bloody brilliant.”

At Marian’s confused look, Emma added. “I’ve never been here before. Usually I have to teleport to a place I’ve seen.” Still, warmth bloomed in her chest at Killian’s praise. I’ve yet to see you fail. His words from Neverland still haunted her. Hell, they’d never leave her. Without fail, Killian always, always, believed in her, even when, especially when, no one else would. Shaking away her affection, Emma returned her attention to Marian.

“Well, then, congratulations on a job well done.” Marian smiled warmly. She wondered if Emma's magic could help with her memories. Could she restore them? 

“Come on, we’ll need to find an inn.” Killian stood, helping both women up. 

“Do I have money?” Marian asked. Then she realized the clothes she and Emma were wearing. “Are these normal clothes?” Surely they couldn't be? 

Emma grimaced. No, they weren’t and it was very possible someone would recognize that they were wearing prison gowns and Killian was dressed as a pirate. “No, these were old sleeping gowns I had, but you’re right, we’ll draw some strange looks.” 

“Could you use your magic to clean us up?” Marian asked. 

Emma considered it, uncertain. Her body felt fatigued from teleporting, but Marian trusted them now and if they stole clothes, that could only make the woman leery of them. They needed to keep Marian close in order to keep an eye on her. Looks like it was time to test the limits of her magic. “Maybe.” She glanced at Killian. “I’ve done small things before, maybe I should test it out on Colin first?”

“Go ahead, love.” Killian spread his arms, ever the willing subject. Looking her over, Killian was concerned. Emma practiced her magic in the future, but nothing near this level. While he believed in her, he didn't want Emma to push herself too much. 

Closing her eyes, Emma figured the easiest thing to do was change one item at a time. She pictured black leather pants as brown and waved her hand. Keeping her eyes closed, she saw his black shirt change to white and his black leather vest changed to deep blue cotton. Finally, his black leather coat, which she was loathed to change but was the most obvious indication of his pirate ways, changed to a brown leather riding coat. 

Her eyes opened to find Killian in the entirely new outfit. Even in his new vest and shirt, the top buttons were still undone, showing off the top of his thick chest hair. She probably could’ve buttoned him up when she changed his clothes, but that didn’t seem right. Plus, she’d never admit it to him, but she actually liked seeing his chest hair and longed to touch it. Stop it, Emma. Keep it in your pants. 

His eyes shown proudly at her accomplishment. “You certainly keep getting better at using magic, love.” 

Emma smiled, and boosted with confidence now that she successfully changed Killian's clothes, she turned to Marian and repeated the process.Marian’s outfit turned from prison chic to one of brown skirts, a green top, and a brown corset. 

When Marian was done, Emma used her magic on herself and her prison dress changed to blue skirts, white top, brown corset, and blue cape. 

Killian tried not to think about how she made them match, or the implications of that. Don't be daft, Jones. There isn't a deeper meaning to that.

“I think we’re ready.” Emma said, subtly steadying herself against a crate as a wave of exhaustion hit her. Maybe she pushed herself too far. 

“Almost.” Killian said. “I’ll need to check and see if we have any coin left. It’s a bit dark, love, might need a light.” Killian gently gripped Emma around her waist, noticing her fatigue. He stepped them away from Marian, walking far enough for Marian to not really hear them, but not so far she’d get suspicious. 

Emma s a reassuring smile Marian’s way. At Killian’s side, Emma held out her hand and a flickering flame appeared in her palm and when she saw it was too small, she willed it to the size of a golf ball. 

"Are you okay, love?" He asked. "You've used a lot of magic in a short time span."

Emma nodded. "I'll be fine. The sooner we count your coins, the sooner we can find an inn."

Killian didn't hesitate, knowing that Emma needed to rest, so he rooted around in his pockets, filled with coins. They counted enough to last them a while and divided the loot between them; Killian insisted on Emma having some money on her in case something happened and they ended up separated. Once they both pocketed the money, he spoke. “I have an idea.” He whispered.

“Oh?” Emma asked, her expression curious. 

“Well, Marian already believes us to be married and hasn’t noticed the lack of rings.” Killian said. “I assure you others will. People are old fashioned around here.” He grimaced at his next words. “If we show up without wedding rings, even if we say we’re married…”

“People will get ideas.” Emma finished, understanding. “I’ll get a reputation.”

“It’s even likely that some establishments won’t accept us as customers.” Killian added, uncomfortably. “Without proof and all that.” 

Emma knew he was telling her this in order to familiarize her with this new world she was stuck in. She had no idea what it was like here and all he wanted to do was protect her, even her honor. It was sweet and he showed more care of her wellbeing than anyone else had before. But could she pretend to be his wife? Sure, he told Marian that to cover for them, but now they’d have to actually live with that lie. They were stuck pretending to be together. She never thought she’d be the marrying type after Neal completely destroyed her. Even with Walsh, before he revealed what he was, she was going to say no. Fairytales and True Love were never in the cards for her. 

When she looked at Killian, a part of her believed in that again, but it scared the shit out of her. It was partly why she wanted to run back to New York. New York was easier; no magic, no complicated family dynamics, no villains, and no Killian to give her hope for a better future. Now, she was stuck in an unfamiliar world, completely reliant on his lead, and even now, he wanted her to have all of the facts before her. He didn’t want her to go into any situation blind. Gratitude nearly overwhelmed her. 

He stared at her with patience and a bit of concern, likely worried about how she’d react. His shoulders were tense, almost bracing himself for a bad reaction from her. 

Taking a breath, Emma pushed away her terror at the idea of a relationship with him. Especially when they both wanted it so much. If anything, her past proved that she would only ruin whatever this precious connection between her and Killian was; it was inevitable that it would happen. No, she had to think about it logically. 

Logically, reasonably, this was an old fashioned port town. They’d likely have to stay here in order to be close to Marian, and figure out her amnesia, godsend though it was for the time being. They had to start off on the right foot with these people they’d be living around for the next couple of years. “Okay, so do you have a ring on you?” Emma asked.

Killian moved some things around in another pocket of his until he finally found a feminine ring that might just fit. It was a gold band with an oval cut ruby surrounded by a circle of small diamonds. He held it for her inspection, careful to hide what they were doing from Marian’s view, though she seemed more distracted by activity further down the docks. 

It truly was a beautiful ring, and Emma could almost imagine another time and another life with a true proposal on his lips. “That’ll work.” She said, careful to keep her tone neutral. She held her left hand out to him. 

Realizing that she wanted him to put the ring on her, Killian swallowed before maneuvering the ring in his hand. 

As he slipped the ring on her finger, Emma felt her breath leave her. It was a perfect fit. Hell, it looked like it belonged on her finger. She wondered if he thought the same as he ran a gentle thumb over the ring as he held her hand. Looking at his hand with its many rings, Emma spoke. “You need a wedding band too.” 

“Don’t have one on me.” Killian shrugged. He’d probably have to steal one tomorrow when a jeweler was open. There wasn’t enough in his pockets to cover a ring and he’d rather save what he had for emergencies. 

Emma looked at the silver and ruby ring currently occupying a place on his ring finger. It was too big and gaudy to be a wedding ring. In fact, all of his jewelry screamed pirate as much as his wardrobe. They were going to have to discuss that. Emma tapped at the on his finger. “Are you attached to this one?” 

“Not particularly.” It wasn’t a lie but it was a half-truth. 

Emma decided to ignore that for now and concentrated on the ring. It needed to be smaller, gold to match hers, the ruby could stay. She began to picture what she wanted in her mind’s eye until it was clear. With a wave of her hand, the ring changed from silver to gold with the ruby shrunk into a smaller oval inlaid in the band. On either side of the ruby rested a small diamond. It looked like a wedding band now. 

Emma removed his other rings from his fingers. “Too pirate-y.” She smirked.

Killian didn’t protest. He shook himself, swallowing, trying not to read too much into how she made their new wedding bands match just as she had matched their clothing. It definitely wasn't a big deal and it meant nothing. “There’s another problem.” He couldn’t guarantee that his crew never docked here in the coming years. He couldn’t remember. It was too dangerous for his own face to become a familiar sight around these parts. It was probably too dangerous for Emma to have her face as well. If Rumplestiltskin found them missing from his vault, he could come looking for them, knowing what they looked like. Emma’s magic seemed more than capable after all. 

“What?” Emma’s eyes held a little bit of panic at his tone. 

“If we stay here, there’s a chance that one day my past self will appear.” Killian explained. “If people get to know us, then they’ll be wondering if I have an identical twin. There’s also Rumplestiltskin to consider. He knows what we look like and we did escape his vault.” 

“You think he might not take the potion to forget the future?” Emma asked. 

“He might, but we have to be cautious.” Killian said. “If you can glamour us and we use aliases, then all the better. Who knows we might end up running into your parents again or someone else.”

Good point. If she glamoured them, then it was much easier to fly under the radar. But she didn’t want them to look at each other and see strangers. Not when all they had was each other to rely on. There had to be a way to glamour them so that others wouldn’t see them, but they’d see each other. That’s what Rumplestiltskin had done for them for the ball. Surely she could do it for them as well. Of course, now Marian saw their faces, so she'd have to adjust it where strangers saw other people but they and Marian still saw the real faces. That also Emma couldn’t drastically change their looks as Marian would see one set of faces and everyone else another set. 

“Okay.” Emma said, though the exhaustion was getting to her. How did Regina use magic so much and not get tired? Was it that the more magic a person used the more they could tolerate the drain? Maybe she could find a teacher here in the past. She'd need to learn more about magic anyway if they were already relying on it for so much little things. “I’ll try to change our appearances to others, but we’ll still look the same to each other and Marian. If she sees something different, she’ll be suspicious and we’ll lose any trust we have from her.”

Hearing the nervous, hesitance in her voice, Killian leaned towards her, gripping her left hand in his right. “You can do this, Emma. Look at all you’ve accomplished today. This is just one more success awaiting you.”

Her eyelashes fluttered at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Was her face warm as well? “Yeah.” She nodded. She closed her eyes again, picturing a new face for Killian. People would still see blue eyes, but slightly lighter hair. A thicker beard instead of trimmed scruff. He’d also have a bit of an offset nose from being broken a time or two. Couldn’t have him look too handsome after all. Ignoring that particular voice in her head, which told her exactly why she didn’t want him so handsome, Emma waved her hand and opened her eyes to see Killian just as he was before. “Did it work?” Her head began to feel light. She wasn't sure how much more she could do. 

Her eyes glanced back towards Marian. 

“We might need a mirror to see.” Killian suggested. 

Taking a deep breath, hoping her magic would still be reliable, Emma conjured a hand mirror and handed it over. She watched Marian as Killian observed his new appearance, knowing they were taking entirely too long to just count some coins. 

Killian took in his new reflection. He was pretty average looking and certainly not as devilishly handsome as he was in reality. At least he wasn’t overly plain, but his new appearance wouldn’t even get a glance from a bar-wench. Still, he wondered if Emma toned down his handsome facade on purpose. Was it because she wanted to avoid garnering attention or did she make him average looking so that women wouldn’t flirt with him? Fool. She probably did it so you won’t get attention. We need to lay low after all. “Looks good.” He returned the mirror to her and watched her work on her own appearance. She glowed briefly but was still his Emma. 

Emma looked at her own reflection. Her eyes were still green, but her face was rounder, more of a heart shape that gave her new facade a sweet innocence about her. Her bright blonde hair was now darker blonde, much closer to her father’s hair. Her nose was more of a button one as well. She looked adorable but far from sexy, which was good, because that would keep attention off of her. A wave of exhaustion hit her again. They really needed to find somewhere to sleep.

Killian quickly replaced his hook with his wooden hand before they returned to Marian. "We'll have plenty of money for an inn for a few days at least. Since you lost your money, Marian, I insist on paying for a room for you." Killian told Marian, keeping his arm around Emma's waist. They bushed her too far as she looked ready to drop at any moment. 

"Wonderful." Marian said. "Are you sure about paying for me? I'm sure I can manage on my own."

"No, no, we are happy to help." Emma insisted. "I feel like what happened to you is our fault. We were asleep when you were attacked. We owe it to you to look after you."

Marian wasn't certain about that, but she wasn't going to turn down their help. Vowing to pay them back later, somehow, Marian started making her way down the docks towards town. 

Killian leaned in close to Emma. “Well Mrs. Jones, ready for our next adventure?” 

Drained due to her magic, Emma leaned on him for support, ignoring how hearing her new title made her heart beat wildly. “Lead the way, Mr. Jones.”