#no but fr I will never shut up about that off menu episode it’s so funny I love him

[sulphur-and-honey]

off menu ‘does Giles drink holy water’ conversation you will always be famous

[winterbaby89]

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter Two

A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89 

Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones

Amazing Artwork by: @xhookswenchx

Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe (probably) some sexy times… later ;o)

Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…

Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.

Line breaks indicate change in POV or Scene.

Also available on ao3, my fic page, and Hollye′s fic page And if you want to catch up on the last chapter. 

This work is no longer available on FF.net. Unfortunately the site does not allow authors to co-publish collaborative works.

Chapter Two

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Hands. Plural. As in, he had two of them again. How?

Was it a side effect of Regina’s curse or from his being...

The Dark One.

The bloody Dark One.

I’m the bloody Dark One!

It had all come back in a rush. Fast and sporadic flashes of memories - his memories - that told the story of his long life. A life that spanned centuries, and yet the truth of it had hit him in an instant. The truth of who he truly was.

Killian Jones.

Orphan.

Slave.

Lieutenant.

Pirate.

Captain Hook.

Dark One.

Killian shuddered at that final memory, and then panic seized him once again. He spun around surveying the room, expecting the Crocodile to manifest himself at any moment with his mocking and jeering. But he hadn’t appeared. Not in the bar. Not on the long walk home. Not even now as Killian paced the length of his manor.

Why?

‘This new realm is a land without magic’, he remembered suddenly. Regina’s words, just before she’d solicited him to kill her mother, echoing in his ear.

A Land Without Magic.

‘Where The Dark One will be stripped of his power.’

For the first time in what seemed like hours Killian took a deep, steadying breath. The Dark One had no power in this land. He had no power in this land. Even still, Killian could feel the rage, the anguish, and the all encompassing darkness he’d felt in that clearing. The memory of their collective presence haunting him more severely than any of his other demons ever had.

And even if they now lay dormant within him, it didn’t change one other fact… he was still Captain Hook. A villain in his own right. A scourge and a scoundrel out for only one thing. Revenge.

Killian pressed his fingers onto the now vacant space on his forearm. Milah.

Revenge had been his, but at what cost?

He’d become the very thing he hated the most. The very thing she hated most. Rumplestiltskin may not have been The Dark One when they’d been together, but Killian had seen it in her eyes when he’d told her of his run in with her husband turned Dark One on the docks; the loathing at what he’d become coursing through her.

For centuries Killian had justified his own depravity and darkness because it was all in pursuit of avenging her. He believed that she’d understand, would offer him absolution for his actions because the ends would justify the means. But now…

Now all he felt was shame. Shame at what he’d become, and thankful to all the gods that she had not lived to see how far he’d fallen in his quest for vengeance. And not just Milah, but Liam as well.

Liam.

Killian clasped at the chain hanging from his neck, but knew it would not hold what he sought. Liam’s ring. What had become of it? What had become of all his possessions? His hook, his coat, his sword, his…

Dagger.

The Dark One dagger.

It had been in his hand when the curse hit, and even though he knew it no longer had the power to control him (at least, that is, as long as Regina’s curse and the lack of magic in this land kept The Dark Ones at bay) he in no way wanted it in anyone else’s possession other than his own.

Killian tore the manor apart in his search, upending rooms he had no memory of ever even entering before. Memories of his cursed life interspersed with his real life. Bloody hell, leave it to Regina to over complicate matters. As if three hundred years of his own memories weren’t enough for his mind to contend with, now he had twenty-eight years of practically the same day recurring over and over again in his head. The only detail making the days distinct from one another was Henry.

Henry. He knew.

The lad knew about the curse. He’d mentioned it before, his suspicions that the stories in the book his teacher had given him were true. Killian had recognized it as a coping mechanism, a way for the lad to try and escape the reality of his unhappy life. A way to ground himself to something more hopeful.

Killian now understood why Henry Mills had come to mean so much to him. He was a lost boy, just like Killian.

On some level Killian had recognized that trait in Henry, even as he had forgotten his true self. It’s probably what had prompted him to suggest that the boy seek out information about his birth parents in the first place. Of course, he never considered that Henry would actually run off in search of the woman who’d given birth to him. But seek her out, the lad had, and her presence in Storybrooke had already begun to change things.

The mystery of why her name broke the spell he had been under notwithstanding, Killian knew he’d only just scratched the surface of the intrigue Emma Swan possessed. But he couldn’t focus on that now. On her. He had a dagger to find and a secret to keep.

As Emma dressed the next morning, and thought about stopping at the diner for breakfast, she heard a knock on the door. Answering it revealed Regina with a basket of apples in hand, and a fake smile plastered on her face. Great, I have to deal with her crap before I’ve even had the chance to drink my first cup of coffee? Just great. Before Emma could manage a polite hello, Regina thrust an apple toward her and started in on some random spiel.

“Did you know the honeycrisp tree is the most vigorous and hardy of all apple trees? It can survive temperatures as low as 40 below and keep growing. It can weather any storm. I have one that I've tended to since I was a little girl, and to this day I have yet to taste anything more delicious than the fruit it offers.”

“Thanks,” Emma responded dubiously as she took the proffered apple Regina extended to her, still clutching her cup in her right hand.

“I'm sure you'll enjoy them on your drive home.” Regina tried to hand over the full basket of apples, but Emma took a half step backward, refusing to reach out for it.

“Actually, I'm gonna stay for a while.”

A brief flicker of anger and agitation crossed Regina’s face at Emma’s declaration and refusal before she schooled her features into a mask of pleasant nonchalance. “I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Henry has enough issues. He doesn't need you confusing him.”

“All due respect, Madam Mayor, the fact that you have now threatened me twice in the last twelve hours makes me want to stay more.”

“Since when were apples a threat?”

“I can read between the lines. Sorry. I just want to make sure Henry's okay.”

“He's fine, dear. Any problems he has are being taken care of.”

A concern for Henry’s well being swelled within her chest at Regina’s words, prompting her to ask, “What does that mean?”

“It means I have him in therapy. It's all under control. Take my advice, Ms. Swan, only one of us knows what's best for Henry.”

That’s right, Emma thought. She remembered meeting Henry’s therapist the other night when she brought him back to Storybrooke, he was the kind man that had given her directions to Regina’s place. She remembered as a sense of relief flooded through her that Regina wasn’t referring to something more sinister. Great I’m starting to think like Henry, she’s not the Evil Queen, just a concerned parent, most likely a bad parent, but concerned nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm starting to think you're right about that.” Emma didn’t miss the glare Regina sent her way at that comment.

“It's time for you to go.”

“Or what?” Emma challenged.

“Don't underestimate me, Ms. Swan. You have no idea what I'm capable of.” Considering that the end of the disturbing conversation, Emma shut the door without another word to Regina, and locked it before going back to getting ready for the day.

Thirty minutes later, Emma found herself perched at the counter in Granny’s diner. Perusing the menu, she debated what to order, when Ruby set down a hot chocolate with cinnamon and whipped cream in front of her.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t order that.”

“Yeah, I know. You have an admirer.” At that comment, Emma turned and tried to tamp down the hope that it might be from a certain blue eyed gentleman who had haunted her dreams the night before, only to see Sheriff Humbert. Her disappointment swelled within her as she picked up the cocoa and approached his table, intending to let the poor man down gently.

“Ah, so you decided to stay.”

Was it really that much of a surprise to him? “Observant, important for a cop.”

“It's good news for our tourist business. It's bad for our local signage.” Graham looked a little uncomfortable with the awkward pause as his joke fell flat. “It's... it's a joke. Because you ran over our sign.”

The only immediate response she can muster is to roll her eyes at his terrible attempt at a joke. “Look, the cocoa was a nice gesture, and I am impressed that you guessed that I like cinnamon on my chocolate, 'cause most people don't, but I am not here to flirt, so thank you, but, no thank you.” Gently placing the cup on the table, she considers whether or not she would have accepted it from a different, accented man.

“I didn't send it.”

“I did. I like cinnamon, too.”

Her head shot towards the front table by the window at the sound of Henry’s voice. How did I not see him there earlier? “Don't you have school?”

“Duh. I'm ten. Walk me.”

He’s definitely my kid with that eyeroll. Without so much as another look at the sheriff, Emma placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and began steering him out the door towards the bus stop.

Killian stopped abruptly in the back hallway of the diner as he watched the Swan girl and Henry make their way out of the diner and along the sidewalk that led to the bus stop. He was going to have to come up with some sort of excuse for avoiding Henry, as he was not quite ready to bring himself to lie to the boy by keeping up with his cursed facade in the lad’s presence. For now, he had a more pressing issue at hand; one he hoped the good Sheriff might be able to assist him with.

Killian prided himself on possessing a stealth that served him well in keeping people on their toes, or catching them off guard with his approach, but he’d never been able to get a jump on the Sheriff. The man somehow always knew when Killian, or anyone else, was approaching him, he seemed to have a sixth sense about him. In light of Killian’s regained memories he wondered just who Graham was back in their realm, and what the man would say if he knew that it was the infamous Captain Hook, or The Dark One for that matter, that was making himself welcome in his booth.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones. Something I can assist you with?” the Sheriff questioned, his disdain only slightly veiled in his tone.

“Actually, Sheriff. I’ve come to do my civic duty as a responsible citizen and business owner,” Killian replied as he placed a hand gun on the table between them, causing the Sheriff to tense momentarily before Killian could add, “I found it at the docks. Thought it best to turn it in to the proper authorities.”

The truth was Killian had found it during the search of his home overnight. Guns, knives, legal documents, and all manner of possessions had been uncovered. While not completely inconsistent with his nature, the items weren’t altogether authentic to who he was, cursed or otherwise, either, and no dagger had been found among them. It was only after he’d felt certain that no location within his home had been overlooked that Killian began to consider where within the town he might continue his search.  

The stash of weapons he’d found concealed in various rooms had led him to the idea that the dagger may lay unclaimed within the Sheriff’s station. Not wanting to tip the lawman’s suspicions any further than they would be prone to, Killian had devised the ruse of turning over the firearm in hopes of naturally opening up the opportunity to question Graham about unclaimed blades.

“You found it?” Graham questioned suspiciously.

“Aye.”

“At the docks?”

“Aye.”

“And you’re just turning it in?”

“Would you rather I not?” Killian quipped inquiringly. “Too much paperwork involved, or are you running out of room to store unclaimed weapons at the Sheriff’s station?”

“We don’t have any unclaimed weapons at the station,” Graham admitted, unaware that he’d just provided the pirate with the very information he sought.

Damn! Killian cursed to himself. He’d have to continue his search elsewhere.

“Right. Well, first time for everything I suppose. I’ll leave you to it then, Sheriff.”

Killian exited the booth and took purposeful strides toward the door. He ran through his mental list of potential locations the dagger could be hiding, as he made his way to the sidewalk a flash of blonde curls and red leather caught his eye. He watched Emma make her way through the door that led up to Dr. Hopper’s office, or according to Henry, Jiminy Cricket’s office, and was once again struck by the urgent pull he felt toward the beguiling woman.

Shaking off such fanciful notions he turned himself towards the docks. He had a dagger to find and a day of searching through warehouses, offices, and his beloved Jolly Roger ahead of him.

Emma lounged on her bed at the B&B as she scoured the files that Dr. Hopper had given her about Henry. So far nothing was jumping out at her, but she wasn’t completely sure what she was looking for. She wasn’t a therapist, and until about three days ago she hadn’t considered herself a parent either. Not that she did even now that Henry was in her life.

A sharp knock at the door added to her current disgruntled state. When she found Sheriff Humbert on the other side she couldn’t help the sarcastic greeting that fell from her lips.

“Hey there. If you're concerned about the Do not disturb signs, don't worry, I've left them alone.”

“Actually, I'm here about Dr. Archibald Hopper. He mentioned you got into a bit of a row with him earlier?”

“No,” Emma clipped firmly as she placed her hands on her hips in annoyance.

“I was shocked, too, given your shy, delicate sensibilities,” Graham mocked, earning him an eyeroll. “He says you demanded to see Henry's files and when he refused, you came back and stole them.”

“He gave them to me.”

“Alas, he's telling a different tale. May I check your room, or must I get a search warrant?”

Unbelievable. Emma turned and allowed Graham to enter. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“Is this what you're looking for?” she asked, gesturing to the numerous papers scattered across the bed.

“Well, you're very accommodating,” Graham needled as he picked up a few papers before delivering the news Emma had been waiting for, even as she reeled at the outrageousness of it all. “I'm afraid, Ms. Swan, you're under arrest. Again.”

“You know I'm being set up, don't you?” It was more a statement than a question as Graham affixed cuffs to her wrists.

“And who, may I ask, is setting you up?”

Emma continued to proclaim her innocence, casting accusations at Regina all the way from the B&B to the Sheriff Station. She questioned Graham about Regina’s hold and influence on the town even as he booked her.

“Regina may be a touch intimidating, but I don't think she'd go as far as a frame job,” Graham argued.

“How far would she go? What does she have her hands in?”

“Well, she's the Mayor. She has her hands in everything.”

“Including the police force?” Emma accused.

“Hey,” an excited voice echoed from the hallway.

“Henry, what are you doing here?” Graham asked.

“His mother told him what happened,” Mary Margaret supplied, having accompanied Henry to the station from school.

“Of course she did,” Emma exasperated as she stared pointedly at Graham before addressing her son with a bit of trepidation. “Henry, I don't know what she said-”

“You're a genius,” Henry interrupted.

“What?”

“I know what you were up to. You were gathering intel for Operation Cobra,” Henry speculated with hushed excitement.

“I'm sorry. I'm a bit lost,” Graham confessed.

“It's need-to-know, sheriff,” Henry said dismissively, “and all you need to know is that Ms. Blanchard's gonna bail her out.”

“You are? Why?” Emma questioned incredulously.

“I, uh, trust you,” the petite woman stated skittishly.

Looking between Henry’s smug face and Mary Margaret’s quiet understanding Emma felt her need for retribution spike as she turned to Graham with her hands out in front of her.

“Well, if you would uncuff me, I have something to do.”

Killian aimlessly wandered along the streets of Storybrooke, having had no success in locating the dagger. Though, he had uncovered more intriguing items that would require his attention and focus once the bloody damned blade was back in his possession.

He was starting to wonder if the infernal thing had come over in the curse at all. For all he knew, it remained in the Enchanted Forest sealed away in the vault he had emerged from after the Crocodile’s death. The only way Killian could be truly sure was to either keep searching and find the bloody thing or march into the Mayor’s office and ask Her Majesty. The latter option was not one he was willing to entertain, so he continued his trek as he ticked off all the locations he’d already explored.

Not in the manor, not at the Sheriff’s station, no sign of it in any of my usual hiding places within the Jolly. The warehouses and dock offices were a bust as well. Perhaps I should… what is that blasted noise!

The sound of a motor cut through Killian’s internal mutterings as he realized he was just across the street from the Town Hall. His curiosity piqued at the unusual sound, Killian made his way towards the building’s courtyard to investigate, but then quickly had to find a place to tuck himself away as he saw the Evil Queen exit the building.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the mayor exclaimed as she rushed across the courtyard towards the racket that continued to permeate the area.

A racket, that Killian could now see was being caused by the lovely Emma. She was wielding a chainsaw, ruthlessly plundering the Mayor’s prized apple tree as she made a quip about picking apples. Now, more than just Killian’s curiosity was piqued at the sight before him.

“You're out of your mind.”

“No, you are, if you think a shoddy frame job's enough to scare me off.”

Frame job? What else have I missed? Killian wondered.

“You're gonna have to do better than that. You come after me one more time, I'm coming back for the rest of this tree. Because, sister, you have no idea what I'm capable of.”

Killian watched as Swan violently tossed the chainsaw aside and challenged, “Your move,” before stomping away. A fresh appreciation for the tough lass washed over him. So, she and the Queen are at odds, then? Not surprising, he supposed, Regina’s at odds with everyone in this accursed town.

Just as Killian was preparing to extricate himself from the dark cluster of shrubbery he’d hidden away in, Sheriff Humbert pulled up in his police cruiser, no doubt having received a complaint about the noise of the chainsaw. Killian decided to remain tucked away for their exchange. Treasure and priceless commodities came in many forms, none more valuable in his experience than good, old fashioned gossip. Information that one could use against one’s enemies was a prize worth harboring in the bushes for.

Killian patiently listened as Regina expressed her desire to once again have Swan arrested, only to have the Sheriff question the effectiveness of such an action, even as he inferred his suspicions that Emma had, indeed, been set-up for her earlier transgressions.

“I think your schoolboy crush is clouding your judgment,” Regina barbed accusingly at the Sheriff.

The accusation caused a spark of rage to ignite in Killian’s chest, he bit back a growl that threatened to reverberate from within. Taken aback by having such a fierce response to the implication that Graham may harbor feelings for the same woman who had so ensnared him, Killian nearly missed the remainder of their exchange.  

“You want me to arrest her again, I will,” Graham complied.

“Good.”

“But she's gonna keep coming at you, and I know you, you're gonna keep going at her, and you will do whatever it takes to get her out of here and you may succeed-”

“No, I will succeed. He's my son. It's what's best for him.”

Killian could barely contain the scathing retort that burned his throat, knowing now just how manipulative and cruel the woman had been in regards to the boy.

“I know that's what you believe,” Graham stated sympathetically, “but if this escalates, it seems to me the only one who will get hurt is Henry.”

Killian watched as Graham departed, leaving both he and Regina to stew in their thoughts of how the repercussions of Emma’s presence in Storybrooke would ultimately affect the boy. Even with the gut-wrenching realization of his true self, and the knowledge of what lay dormant just beneath his surface, Killian could not bring himself to resent Henry for bringing his birth mother there, and ultimately waking him from his cursed state. She was changing things, and Killian believed that such changes would only benefit Henry. It was apparent, however, that Her Majesty did not share this sentiment.

“There has got to be a way of getting rid of that woman without Henry blaming me,” Regina muttered to herself, as she passed Killian’s hiding spot. “If ever there was a time I needed my powers… wait-”

Killian’s attention sharpened at Regina’s mention of her powers. I thought this was a land without magic?

“Perhaps that little imp had something stashed away. Somehow my curse failed to bring him over, but perhaps there is something in the pawn shop that could be of use.” Regina’s speculations prompted her to abandon her immediate concerns for the mangled tree, and Killian watched as she rushed back into her office building - presumably to grab her purse and keys.

The Crocodile. Regina didn’t realize the truth of just why the curse had failed to deliver Rumplestiltskin to this land. But she believed something useful of his might be hidden away within the abandoned pawn shop?

Killian began to wonder whether or not a certain item he’d been in search of might be located there as well. He was at a disadvantage, seeing as he was on foot and Regina would have her car to get her there ahead of him, so Killian wasted no time in making his way back towards Main Street, hoping against hope that her search would not lead to the dagger before he arrived.

Chapter Three

Tagging some lovelies that have asked to be tagged, as well as some we believe might enjoy. Please let us know if you do, or don’t wish to be tagged.

@abeylin1982 @aprilqueen84 @artistic-writer @ashar663 @captain-k-jones @captain-swan-coffee @downeystarkjr @florenzu @freakassbuthunter @gingerchangeling @golfgirld @greenleaf777 @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @leiaswanjoneskid @like-waves-on-the-beach @rookiehookie @seriouslyhooked @teamhook @ultraluckycatnd @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain