Maybe he did it because he liked a challenge, and knew that she did too. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he should have thought it through better. Maybe he wanted to see if she trusted him. Maybe he cared if she trusted him or not. Whatever his reasons were, he did it, and neither he, Killian Jones, nor Emma Swan would be likely to forget it any time soon.
It had been a week or so since he was let out of the hospital. It would still hurt a bit every now and then when he walked, but for the most part, his ribs felt okay.
The events that had occurred since then went so quickly he could barely keep them straight. That awful giant that had kept him chained to the bloody wall for ten hours had been sent to Storybrooke. Killian had been forced to work with Prince Charming and Snow White, and had no interest in doing so again. They obviously thought they were better than everyone else, simply because they would always find each other. Big deal. While in the hospital, Dr. Whale told him about a little thing called a GPS; apparently those contraptions could do the same thing.
One good thing had come out of his alliance with The Charmings, and that was information on Emma Swan. Emma Swan, the women who, recently, had been on his mind more than the Crocodile. She was bloody infuriating, but he couldn't seem to stop his mind from wandering back to her.
She was beautiful, there was no denying that. She had been able to best him four times (three of which involved him being tied or chained up), which nobody, living or dead, had ever done before.
Her parents hadn't given up information about her willingly, or even knowingly. Hook just happened to be much more observant than he let on. The two of them had spent quite a bit of time on his ship recently, which had given him numerous opportunities to eavesdrop on their conversations. From their words, he had gotten that Swan had gone on a journey with her son and the Crocodile.
Hook hadn't let it show, but when he first heard this, he had been worried. Not worried, more terrified and furious. Why? Even he couldn't really answer that. He wasn't supposed to feel anything but a burning desire for revenge, so why did he? Why was he so concerned about what might happen to her, and why was he so mad that she had put herself in danger? He should have been thankful. He should have been hoping that Gold killed her on this journey, but he wasn't. After everything that Emma had done to him, the multiple times she had almost kept him from his revenge, he still cared. And that scared him, so he did what he always did when he showed any emotions: brushed it off and pretended it didn't exist. Soon enough, he was able to convince himself that he wasn't concerned about her safety, but that didn't last very long. Human emotions kept shining through, now matter how hard he tried to smother them. Either way, it didn't matter. Emma was more than capable of taking care of herself. He had confidence it that fact, if nothing else.
Another time, he had heard Snow White, or as some were calling her in this land, Mary Margaret, on a small metal box called a cell phone.
"Emma, I'm thrilled to hear from you!" Snow had cried, and Hook had done a double-take. She was talking to Emma, and that meant she was alive. Not that I care at all, he reminded himself, but stayed to listen none the less.
"You found his son then?" There had been a long pause at which Snow had gasped.
What? What's happening? Hook had asked nonverbally, before reminding himself that it was none of his business again.
"You mean that Gold's son is...him? Henry's father?"
What? Rumplestiltskin's son was the boy's dad? That must make him the one who broke Swan. Perhaps cowardice ran in the family.
"But now you're bringing him back to town?" Snow had cried, confusion in her voice, which was echoed in Hook's thoughts. Why would Swan want to bring someone who had done that to her back into her life?
That was the point that he had stopped listening. Do whatever you want, Emma Swan. I'm done with you, and your bloody confusing choices.
The next day, however, he had heard the queen on the phone yet again.
"You'll be arriving tonight? Excellent, we'll have the apartment all clean for a welcome home party!"
Back home? Tonight? Killian had thought.
For the short time they had known each other, Hook had been utterly confused by Emma, just as much as he had been able to tell exactly what she was thinking. It was about a fifty-fifty ratio. But he knew one thing for sure: Emma wanted to deny it, but she felt something for him. Not only did he think this so that he could justify the little something that he felt for her as well (not that I really feel anything, he had assured himself), but because he could see into her eyes. Eyes were said to be the window to the soul, and Emma didn't have a guard up nearly as strong as she thought she did.
Hook knew without a doubt that she was attracted to him, and cared about his safety. He had vague memories of Swan yelling at the nurses to hide him from Gold when he was being wheeled into the hospital, though he couldn't remember the details, due to the whole 'about to die' thing.
But he couldn't read her as well as he'd like to be able to. He couldn't always tell what she was thinking about him. And he wanted to. He wanted to more than he'd like to admit.
This was where he should have probably thought some things through some more, or considered the fact that Emma was basically a human lie detector. But regardless, he decided that he wanted to find out how Swan really thought of him, and could only think of one way that it would happen unless it was over his unconscious body, and if that happened, he wouldn't be awake to hear. Emma was too guarded to ever confess anything to him willingly. Bloody stubborn lass.
And he didn't want to wait to find out how she felt. If her old love was really back in town, he would be trying to worm his way back into her life. (For being half Milah, Hook was already disgusted by this man. He seemed to take after his father, from what he had heard of him so far.) If Henry's father was entering Emma's life, old feelings could emerge. Hook wanted to make sure that Emma realized she had feelings for him as well.
Okay, maybe I care about her a bit, he admitted to himself. But I haven't gone soft. This is all just a little game I'm playing to piss her off at the end. Yes, that's it.
And so, he made plans for his own welcome home celebration he'd be giving Swan.
"So how did you two meet?" Henry prompted, once they neared the town line. There had been an icy silence in the car for a few hours, ever since they had left New York. Emma and Henry were in the front seats, while Gold and he sat in the back. Emma had only thought 'he' in her mind, since simply thinking his name was too painful.
"Henry, I doubt it's as romantic as you've built it up to be in your mind," Emma snapped quickly, not wanting him to know that she had stolen his already-stolen car, which they were now driving.
"And is it just a freaky coincidence that you're my dad and Mr. Gold's son?" Henry asked, directing his attention towards Nea-him.
"I don't know, is it, Gold?" Emma spat, not giving him the time to answer. "Or did you somehow arrange all of this?"
"Rest assured dearie, I've been behind more of the things in your life than you know, but this wasn't one of them," Gold hissed back at her. Emma whirled her head around.
"And what is that supposed to mean, you twisted little-"
"Hey, eyes on the road!" Neal (alright fine, she'll just call him by his name) reprimanded, reminding her of the first time they had met.
"Nobody asked you, you-"
"Mom!" Henry shouted, and she grudgingly faced forward again. Glancing over, she saw the Welcome to Storybrooke sign just 20 or so feet ahead, and next to it was...a man?
"What the...?" Emma muttered, stopping the car right at the town line, and getting out of the car. She took hesitant steps forward, until the man's face came into the light.
She almost rolled her eyes. Of course it would be Hook. How had he managed to get himself into more trouble at the town line already?
Checking quickly, she discovered that he had a pulse, and couldn't see any visible injuries. He seemed totally fine, except for the fact that he was passed out. The thought that he had crossed the line and forgotten his memories was straining Emma's mind, but she wouldn't let herself think like that. Not that she cared if he remembered anything or not.
Thinking quickly, and wanting to make sure that Gold didn't see who it was (not that I really care if he gets killed or not, she thought to herself), she ran back to the car.
"You drive," she ordered, gesturing at Neal through an open window. "Get Henry back to the apart. Kid," now she addressed Henry, with a much kinder tone, "tell David and Mary Margaret to come back with the car. I need to make sure this guy is okay, but he seems alright at the moment."
"Who is it?" Henry asked, posing the very question she desperately didn't want to answer in front of the people in this car.
"Nobody," she replied quickly. "Just go!"
Without a second thought, Neal hopped out of the back seat and circled around to the front. For a moment though, he paused to look at the body. As he closed the door, he asked Emma, "I haven't known people in this land for a few centuries, so I'm not sure, but are many of them missing hands?"
Emma paled. Neal, you idiot, she thought to herself.
"No, they more certainly aren't," Gold hissed in the back seat, and looked ready to get out and kill the pirate himself.
"Gold! You said that you would kill him if I didn't go with you! Well, I went, so don't you dare think about doing anything." Emma glared threateningly, and by some miracle, it did the job. Gold settled into his seat again, Neal shot her one last confused look, and the yellow car took off down the road. Sighing, Emma turned toward her bigger problem, which was currently shuffling awkwardly in the dirt, as though he had just woken up.
"Hook, why the hell are you over here?" Emma yelled, jogging back to him. He had managed to pull himself into a sitting position, and was looking around himself as though he was extremely confused.
"Hook?" He asked, looking up at her.
"Yes, Hook, what are you doing over here?" Emma pressed, not wanting to have to put up with any of his charming banter. Wait, not charming. Irritating. Very very irritating.
"Lying here? I can't say I really know that," he said, stretching slightly. There was something about his eyes that seemed...off. Unfocused.
"Hook, what's your name?" Emma asked hesitantly, fearing the answer."
John," he said, extending his good hand to Emma, as though expecting her to help him up, but she just stared at him. "What did you want me to say? Hook? And by the way, why are you calling me that?"
"You...you think your name is John?" Emma questioned, wanting to make sure she was understanding.
"Yes?" He replied, clearly confused by Emma's disbelieving tone.
"Not Killian?"
"Who on earth would name their child Killian?" He laughed, and nudged her again. "Would you help me up?"
Instead, Emma crouched down next to him. She wanted to be at eye level with him, and also wanted to make sure her legs didn't give out. He couldn't have forgotten. He couldn't.
"What do you think your occupation is?" She asked.
"Fisherman," he answered easily, and Emma almost relaxed for a moment: fisherman was close enough to pirate, right? Her relief only lasted a moment, when he said, "that's how I lost my hand. It got caught in a lobster trap."
"You..." Her breath hitched in her throat, and she stopped talking. He had crossed the town line. He couldn't remember anything. Unless...
"John, look at me," she ordered, trying not to show how her voice shook. Obediently, he looked into her eyes. He looked exactly the same, but now his eyes showed no sign of recollection.
"Do you know who I am?" She said slowly.
"No, I'm afraid not. Should I?" He raised an eyebrow, but not in a suggestive way.
Holy shit. He hasn't made an innuendo yet. The thought hit Emma, and might've shocked her more than anything else.
"Innuendoes? What?" He asked, with a shadow of a smile on his lips. Oh, she hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"Hook, if you're screwing with me right now, it isn't funny," she said firmly, and he looked at her again. There was something other than emptiness in his eyes. Emma could just barely sense a lie in his words.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" He asked, the smile gone.
"Alright, I'll humor you," Emma snorted, hoping that if she acted sure, he would just confess that this was all a joke, and he hadn't lost his memories. "So, John, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret." He moved his head closer to hers, and she almost smirked. Hasn't lost his disregard for personal space, I see. "I'm pretty good at telling when people are lying."
"What would I be lying to you about?" He responded, starting to sound like he was getting annoyed.
When he had told Emma, Snow, Mulan and Aurora that he was a blacksmith, Emma had been so sure that he wasn't telling the truth. Now, he had either gotten better at lying or had actually lost his memories. Normally, Emma could completely tell if someone was lying, but she had never had this feeling before, constantly questioning her instincts, because her instincts weren't so sure in this case. That was a first.
"You...can't remember, can you?" She gaped.
"Of course I can," he said, sounding offended.
"No, I mean remember your real life. You're remembering an alternate life."
She got up and started pacing, leaving "John" on the ground, watching her. She was so focused on what was going on in her own mind that she didn't notice the slight smirk on his face for a moment, or the awareness that his eyes sharpened with momentarily.
"But you never got taken by the curse. Why did the town line take away your memories?" She asked, more to herself than him.
"I can remember myself quite well, thank you," he said, heaving himself off the ground.
"No, you don't know who you really are," Emma muttered, sounding mildly hysterical. Then she rounded on him. "Does the name Milah ring a bell?"
"...Vaguely," he whispered, eyes moving around like he was looking for a memory to latch on to. "But I can't remember where it's from."
"What about the name Captain Hook?" She asked, and he smiled.
"From that children's story? I'm pretty sure everyone knows who he is, love."
"Love!" Emma cried. "You just called me love! Does calling people by little pet names like that bring anything back?"
"...No, I've always done that." His confused tone was back, and Emma continued pacing.
"What about Rumplestiltskin?"
"That's just another storybook character, darling." He now sounded pitying, like he was sure she was simply crazy. She started muttering to herself again.
"Was it because the revenge didn't work out completely, and he wanted to forget about Milah and the pain, and...everything?"
"Revenge?" He asked. "Who are you under the impression I wanted to get revenge on?"
"Rumplestiltskin of course, because he killed Milah and cut off your hand," Emma said, gesturing toward the stump on his wrist. "But you have to remember, you have to remember..."
"I'm telling you, there is nothing to remember," he insisted."Yes, there is!"
She knew that, if he truly couldn't remember his old life, she was freaking him out a lot right now, but she didn't care. Judgement had flown out the window. She was so scared and worried about him. More so than she'd like to admit.
"You told me that you were a blacksmith, but you were lying, so I tied to to a tree, and-"
"Pardon?" he put in. "You tied me to a tree?"
"Don't interrupt me, Hook! I tied you to a tree, and you told us about a compass, so we climbed up a beanstalk, and you told me about how I was an open book to you, and I asked you about Milah, and you got buried under some rocks, and I defeated the giant, and-"
"We climbed up a beanstalk and you defeated a giant?" His eyebrows were knitted together, looking as though he was kind of scared of the insane woman in front of him.
"Yes! And then I left you chained up in the giant's lair, and you left me in Rumplestiltskin's cell, but we got out, and we had a sword fight, and you said absolutely obscene things," (she was too focused on summarizing their history together to notice him crack a smile), "And I knocked you out with the compass, but you still ended up in Storybrooke, and shot Bella so she forgot Gold, bu-"
"You think I shot someone?" He gasped, almost comically.
"Yes, I do! But then you got hit by a car, and I left you chained to a hospital bed." She turned to face him. "You really don't remember any of that?"
"Can't say that I do, but it seems like you enjoy tying me up."
"There!" She pointed at him theatrically."That's the type of thing you would've said to me! You can't just forget it all..."
He took a step toward her. "I'm going to be brutally honest love, I'm pretty sure you're crazy," she glared at him, "but out of curiosity, why does it matter so much that I allegedly forgot my alternate life as Captain Hook?"
"Because!" she waved her arms around frantically. "Because...I don't know."
She dropped to the ground, and he sat down next to her, still looking at her like she was mad.
"We haven't known each other very long, but, you...I don't know, all right? You shouldn't matter to me this much," she sighed, burying her head in her hands. Her words came out muffled. "But you do. I care about you, and I don't understand it. Do you?"
"I don't understand a single thing you've said to me, lass."
She snorted, and looked back up. "Your old self kind of reminded me of myself. We'd both been burnt by love, you know?"
"Um, not particularly, no," he admitted.
"Right. But I don't know, you just...you had all these innuendoes and jokes and crap, but underneath all that, we were...similar. And I guess I just...wanted to keep you safe... maybe."
"Okay then," he smiled, still looking like he thought she should check into a mental hospital. She laughed again.
"And now you think I'm crazy. I don't know how you can make people remember..."
An odd thought occurred to her. Kissing Graham had made him remember his old life. What she had had with Graham had been special, had been a spark, but never a flame. Maybe if she had gotten more time with him, it could've become love, but he had died before they had reached that point. Maybe, as the savior, her kisses could wake people up, even if it wasn't true love...
She began stroking her lips absentmindedly, while the wheels in her mind turned. She didn't notice the smug look on her companion's face.
She could try. There was no harm in it. If it failed, it failed. If it succeeded...she shuddered at the thought. Hook would never accept that her theory had been that, as the savior, she could wake anybody up, even if she wasn't in love with them. For the rest of their time together, he would never shut up about it, and he'd always have that damn, smug, suggestive, grin.
But she could put up with his teasing. If she truly had the option right now to bring his memories back, surely, she should try?
But maybe it was better to let him forget. He'd never remember his plan for getting revenge on Gold, and the town would be safe (or at least more safe that it was). She wouldn't have to worry about listening to his dumb sexual comments.
But maybe she kind of enjoyed his innuendoes. Maybe their banter entertained her, instead of pissing her off like she pretended it did. You know, maybe.
"Im blaming this on my parents," she growled to herself.
"What do your parents have to do with anything?"
"Well...they're sort of what you might call the good guys. I think that they passed their incessant need to help people on to me."
"But I don't need hel-"
"Yes you do, you just don't realize it," she cut him off, standing up. He followed suit.
"So what could you possibly do to help me?" He asked, and she detected a bit of a challenge in his voice.
"Um, well, the evil queen put a curse on everybody," he rolled his eyes, and took a step away from her again. "And nobody could remember who they were. But I woke one person up, because I was, like, the savior or something."
"And how did you manage to do something like that?" He sounded like he was humoring her, and his condescending tone pissed her off. Okay, that's it, she thought.
Roughly pulling him up to her by his leather coat, she slammed her lips on to his. He didn't respond for a moment, but that was short lived. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her flush against him. Emma's senses, turned off for the moment, didn't realize that a man who couldn't remember anything of his old life wouldn't have done something like that. Their mouths continued devouring the other's. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, and the two fought for dominance, just like they did in every other aspect of their relationship. She wound her fingers into his soft black hair, and moaned against his lips slightly. He was clearly an expert when it came to kissing. She could feel herself going weak in the knees.
He started to trail hot kisses down her throat, and she moaned again. He was so good at this...
And that's when it hit her: Hook would have experience with kissing, John wouldn't.
Without thinking, she shot backward, taking deep, heaving breaths. She didn't look him in the eye, because she was 99% sure that his dazed and empty expression would be long gone.
"My, darling, I didn't expect you to actually follow through on it," he said, and she didn't need to be looking at him toknow he was smirking.
"What do you mean? You..you couldn't remember anything," she exhaled, still trying to steady herself. She straightened up, and caught his eye. Yep. Hook's definitely back.
"Oh, on the contrary, love," he closed the gap between them and circled his hands around her back again. "I could remember everything," he whispered sensually to her.
"But you crossed the town line!" She spluttered.
"No, I didn't," he shook his head at her in a condescending manner. "You might want to get that lie detector checked."
She fought to get out of his arms, but he didn't let go.
"Hook," she warned, glaring.
"You thought you would wake me up with true love's kiss," he grinned, saying it as a statement rather than a question.
"No!" She shouted. "I had kissed someone else, and it hadn't been true love, but he still woke up. I thought that as the savior, I could wake people up, even if it wasn't true love." He let her go, and she took a safe two steps back.
"Keep telling yourself that," he beamed. "But, you can't deny that you care about me, and I remind you of yourself, and you wanted to keep me safe, and-" He put on a high voice, doing a terrible imitation of her.
"You weren't supposed to wake up!" She cried. "I just wanted to test it, because I knew that I'd feel bad if there had been something in my power to wake you up and I didn't do it."
He smirked yet again.
"Why would you even pretend that? That was the one of the most stupid things you've done!" she yelled running out of excuses for her actions.
"Just wanted to see your reaction, love. What's life without a little risk?"
At that very moment, headlights shined down the street. The police car pulled up next to them.
"Are you okay?" Mary Margaret cried, opening the door from the passenger side and running over to Emma and Hook, closely followed by Charming. "Henry told us that you were passed out by the town line. He didn't lose his memories...did he?" Mary Margaret checked, looking back and forth between the two.
Hook just raised an eyebrow at Emma, who muttered through clenched teeth, "No, he most certainly didn't."
"Yes, I'm fine, Emma here managed to revive me," he smiled, winking at Emma when her parents weren't looking.
When they all loaded into the car, Emma wound up in the backseat with Hook, much to her displeasure.
"You're dead," she whispered to him.
"Come now love, let's not be too harsh. I'd hate to die without having a reprise of what happened back there," he gestured back down the road. It was lucky that there was a wall separating them and Snow and Charming, because he didn't bother keeping his voice down. It was also very lucky that the happy couple in the front wasn't paying attention at all to what was happening in the back.
"What happened back there is never going to happen agai-"
She was cut off by him leaning over and kissing her roughly. It was brief, but she was left out of breath, more due to shock that anything else.
"Oh, but I think it will, Emma," he said in a sing-song voice. She responded in the most mature way she could: kicking him in the shins.
Maybe she could've thought of a better way to deal with her frustration. Maybe Hook shouldn't have tricked her like that. Maybe she continued to deny her feelings for him long after that day. Maybe he realized that there was only one thing in this world that he wanted more than his revenge, and it was sitting in the car, right next to him.
Maybe that wasn't the beginning of a love story, epic enough to rival that of Snow White and Prince Charming.
Then again, maybe it was.
AN: The idea for this story came to me while I was trying to get to sleep and my mind wouldn't shut off. I don't know how good the writing is, because I wrote the whole thing the moment the thought came to me, and stayed up until about four in the morning.
I'll be updating It's Kind of a Funny Story some time in the next week, but I just had to write this before I did anything else. I might be getting a snow day tomorrow, so maybe I could have time to update then.
Love it? Hate it? Have constructive critisism? Feel the urge to yell at me because of the many grammatical errors I probably missed while I was proof-reading? Please leave me a comment about it! I always loving getting feedback!