Hello again! I've started taking prompts on my tumblr and this was the first one. I'll be posting all prompts I receive both here and on my tumblr. If you're interested in sending me a prompt, go to ask. Ask is open and anon is always on.
Prompt: Something makes Killian forget Emma after he thinks she leaves him for Neal (like Snow forgetting Charming) and he gets all dark and Emma gets to do the true love saving thing.
Hook starts to change soon after they stumble across Neal in the jungle.
It starts out small. He sits a little bit further from the center of the group, just a foot or two away when they settle down for the night. The flirtatious streak he's sported since the moment Emma met him becomes less prominent, slowly swallowed up by an intensity she hasn't seen in him since the day he shoved his hook into Rumpelstiltskin's chest.
His new eccentric behavior doesn't stop there. Soon, he begins to vacate his usual spot next to Emma when they go traipsing through the jungle to look for the latest location of Pan's hideout. He instead opts for the very back of the line and makes sure to keep at least two people between him and Emma at all times. She still feels his eyes on her though, two burning holes that land right between her shoulder blades. Sometimes she glances back just to see if she can catch him but he's always looking somewhere else. As disheartening as that is, it's downright terrifying when she turns around and he's gone.
Hook's disappearances become more frequent. Some nights, he leaves to scout the area and doesn't return until after breakfast and everything is packed away.
After a particularly rough day of exploration, he vanishes completely. He walks into the forest right after dinner and doesn't return the next morning. Emma still has hope that he'll come back and she bids the rest of the group to wait just another hour. Surely he wouldn't have left them ... right? But an hour turns into two, and then into three, and so on and so fourth, until it's almost noon (Or what she assumes is noon; time doesn't seem to abide by the traditional rules here.) and everyone in the group is trying to convince Emma that they have to go. Henry is counting on them, and Hook clearly doesn't want to help them any longer.
However strong Emma's desire may be to go on and look for Henry, there's a part of her deep, deep down that absolutely refuses to let her turn her back on Hook. So she takes a deep breath, turns to the others, grabs her sword (Or is it Neal's again?) and plows headlong into the forest, Neal yelling her name as she makes her way through the trees.
Luckily for her, in his haste to leave, Hook has left an almost indistinguishable trail in his wake, barely bent branches and trodden grass the only marks on the otherwise undisturbed foliage. Things so small that anyone less trained might have missed them entirely.
She feels like she's been walking for hours when a twig snaps somewhere off to her right and stops her dead in her tracks.
She stays absolutely still, not wanting to alert any manner of hungry beast that might be lurking in the forest growth around her to her presence. A shiver runs down her spine as she remembers the last time she had underestimated the potential threats fairytale lands tend to harbor.
There's a movement to left and then Hook is barreling through the underbrush and towards her at top speed, grabbing her around the neck, no comma and slamming her into the closest tree. The force of his attack knocks the air out of her lungs and puts spots in her eyes. It doesn't help that Hook has a tight grip around her throat. It's not quite bruising or life-threatening yet but it isn't exactly comfortable either. Her hands scramble to latch onto his right wrist and hold on for dear life. As her vision clears, she finally gets a good look at him.
He's paler than the last time she saw him and there are nicks and cuts marring his checks and the exposed skin of his chest. Besides the small marks, he seems perfectly fine. There are no potentially fatal wounds or spider black veins to indicate he'd been hit by one of the Lost Boys' dreamshade arrows. Emma lets out a sigh of relief.
It's his eyes that give her pause and send a drop of panic into her stomach.
There's a wildness in them that wasn't there before, an anger that sets the blue irises aflame.
He lifts the hook up to her face and traces it over her cheekbone and down her jaw to the pulse point in her neck, causing her to shift her eyes down to the menacing piece of metal. His grin is sinister. "Now, lass, care to tell me how you found your way onto this island? And why exactly you're following me?"
Whatever she was expecting to happen when she finally caught up to him, this is not it.
"Hook, this isn't funny," Emma croaks out. A grin that doesn't quite meet his eyes stretches across his face and he lets out a low chuckle, "Ah, ah, ah that's not quite the answer I was looking for, though it is nice to know that my reputation precedes me." The hook pushes a little deeper into her skin. She bites back a gasp and quickly realizes that it's time to for a different approach.
"My name is Emma Swan and I'm following you because you left me," she takes a breath, "and the rest of our group behind in the middle of the night."
"Sorry but I think you've got me confused with someone else, love. The group I travel with is my crew and last time I checked, they were on board my ship."
Despite the skepticism written all over his face, his grip slackens just a bit and the hook lowers back to his side. It's exactly the opening she needs. Her knee shoots up towards his groin. She's fast but it turns out, sadly, he's faster. His leg bends to block the shot and he pushes her further into the tree, the rough bark biting into the skin of her back. The few inches that had separated them before vanishes, until they are chest to chest and breathing the same air.
"Not a smart move, Swan," he snarls into her face. "I don't take kindly to strikes against my anatomy."
Emma's been in enough fights to know that she's quickly running out of viable options to break his hold.
It's maddening how close he is. No matter how hard she concentrates, she can barely form a coherent thought. They haven't been this close together since that kiss. His scent is intoxicating, leather and rum with a dash of cinnamon that makes her mouth water.
She looks over his shoulder and focuses on the trees across the clearing they've found themselves in. It's not much but it helps lift the spell he's cast over her. She has to focus; this isn't the good natured, flirty Jones that she's used to. This is Captain Hook, as dark and violent as the stories have painted him to be.
His hook moves to latch around her leg and brings it up until it's resting just against his hip. It's infuriating. She knows exactly why he's doing it and it's not just an attempt to seduce her. The new position takes away any chance she might have to use her other leg to trip him.
She realizes that he's made sure that if he goes down, she's damn sure going with him.
Scanning her brain for any last minute she might be able to use to get out of his grip, she comes up She only has one option and it's certainly not the best one.
Emma rears her head back as much as she can despite how tightly pinned she is to the tree and head butts him right between the eyes. He stumbles backwards from the force of the hit, the hand that had been around her neck now covering his face. As he backpedals, he takes her leg with him. It's just as she expected. As he's distracted, she reaches forward and grabs the hook, detaching it just the way he's showed her before.. Finally free, she uses the same maneuver he used on her at Lake Nostos and kicks his feet out from under him and down he goes.
Before he has a chance to recover, she's got the hook underneath his chin, pushing up until his head is tipped back and he's eye level with her. He looks down at the metal and then meets her eyes once again. He's clearly angry at their change in positions, but she also notices that there's also just a hint of admiration in his expression (She tries to ignore the warmth that spreads across her chest as she realizes that she's actually made him proud).
"Look, I don't know what's going on with you and frankly, I don't care. I'm tired and I've got a psychopathic teenager with a fetish for games threatening to brainwash my kid. I really don't have time for you to be having an identity crisis right now."
He smirks up at her like she's most interesting thing he's seen this century (Which, considering she doesn't know what he does and does not remember, might be true).
"Got any ideas on how to get your memory back, mate?" She leans down and pushes the hook further into his flesh. Not enough to break the skin, just to get the point across.
His hand comes up like a flash, wraps around the back of her head, and smashes her lips to his. She reacts quickly and as she usually does when she finds herself kissing him.
At first it's teeth and tongue and unadulterated passion. Their lips are laced with anger, their breath with desperation. Emma knows this isn't the best decision she's ever made but she can't stop herself. She's been burning with the desire to kiss him for almost a week and now that she's gotten her chance, she's not going to let it pass her by.
Surprisingly, despite how passionate it had started out, it quickly becomes slower. Where once was rage, there is now a gentleness that she hadn't expected. The fingers in her hair run smoothly against her scalp instead of pulling on the blonde strands. The pressure on her lips lessens and turns more exploratory, like he's trying to memorize everything about this moment that he can. She can even feel his lips turning up until he's grinning into the kiss with a smile she finds herself returning.
However the burning in her lungs won't be ignored for long and Emma reluctantly pulls back to inhale much needed oxygen. Both of them are breathing heavily and have the biggest grins stretched across their faces. There are twigs in his hair and smudges of dirt on his cheek but he's never looked as beautiful as he does in this moment.
He lets out a quiet laugh. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, love, but what was that for?"
"You wandered off into the forest and never came back, so I went looking for you. Except when I found you, you weren't exactly yourself," she explains and lifts herself up off him, dusting off bits of leaves and grime that had landed on her during the scuffle. She offers her hand to help him up, one that he gladly accepts. Once he's standing again, he extends the arm with the brace out to her so she can twist his hook back into its proper place. With a loud click, it's once more back where it belongs.
Hook takes a moment and looks down at their joined hands, "Ah, I see."
"You see what?"
His brows furrow for a moment and then he sighs, "Peter Pan isn't the only one who likes to play games in Neverland. The magic on this island has a tendency to take the thing you fear the most and use it against you. Its magic reaches inside of you and preys on your weaknesses, your doubts, all your insecurities until you're nothing but a shell of the person you were when you first stepped foot on its shores."
Still refusing to meet her eyes, he continues. "For you it was your abandonment and for me," he lets out a sigh, "for me it was losing you."
It takes a moment for her to realize what exactly it is that he's saying but then everything starts to fit together, bits of what seemed like inconsequential pieces of information coming together and forming the picture that hadn't been visible until now. "So when we found Neal again, you were, what? Worried that I'd get rid of you?"
He looks away and then towards their hands, too embarrassed to admit that the great Captain Hook, the man who faced down the Dark One and survived for three centuries, finally let Neverland get the best of him.
She surges upwards and kisses him again like there's no tomorrow (which to be honest, considering where they are and who they're up against, there might not be). He is still at first and then responds with the passion and when they pull away from each other, they are once again breathless.
Emma breaks through the haze first, "I don't know what's ahead of us. I don't even know what exactly we are. Hell, I don't even know if we're going to make it out of here alive but I do know one thing. I will never leave you behind. Okay?"
Hook quirks an eyebrow and smiles back at her. "Aye."