This story was originally writted for the Once Upon a Captain Swan Storybook, Vol 2. It was written as a collaboration with allyourdarlingswans, hellomommanerd, and whimsicallyenchantedrose on Tumblr.

2 x 22 And Straight on 'Til Morning

Righting the Course

This is a deleted scene about what Killian might have been thinking before turning his ship around and heading back to Storybrook.

Heroes are bloody idiots.

It wasn't the first time Killian Jones had understood this fact, but the unceasing heights of noble sacrifice these fools were willing to ascend in the name of doing the right thing was nearly awe inspiring. Hadn't he just spent the better part of the day working alongside a deposed prince in a quest to recover the magic beans that would save them all? Hadn't he, the notorious Captain Hook, managed to acquire one of those very objects by risking his own life and limb in the face of gunfire? And hadn't he valiantly kept his word and turned it over to the man who had still eyed him with suspicion and something bordering on contempt?

And now, it would seem that the plan was to take that very rare and valuable object and, rather than making a quick and guaranteed escape from this disintegrating town, use it in the off-chance that they might be able to send the bloody diamond through a bloody portal into another bloody realm in an effort to save the bloody Evil Queen.

Idiots.

He had really thought that throwing his lot in with this crew would be the right way to go. He could save his life and even work with the heroes for once, and, surprisingly, the idea had felt completely right. Two hundred years of unproductive pursuit of revenge on the Dark One was more than enough to see that there could possibly be a better way of going on. But this – this new plan was utter insanity.

"You are mad!" He snagged the pouch holding the bean as they attempted to pass it to Emma. "I can live with myself."

"Give it back!" Emma yelled.

"If she wants to die, I say let her." He tossed the words out there, the familiar mantle of the pirate king descending back into place. Yes, hundreds of years of seeking an ever-elusive goal should not have been left so quickly behind. It was no wonder these fools wouldn't last.

Emma, though – Emma was determined. The last to give into this idea, she was now committed to following through. She was also intent in pulling him along, and not above using the allure of her beautiful, pleading eyes, and not above reminding him that they had both come from a place of abandonment.

"You and I," she said, "we understand each other. Look out for yourself and you'll never get hurt."

He looked aside, feeling uncomfortable that she was about to touch a nerve. "Worked quite well for me."

"Yeah," she continued, "until the day that it doesn't. We're doing this. It might be stupid; it might be crazy, but we're doing it. So, you can either join us and be a part of something, or you can do what you can do best and be alone."

He hesitated for a moment, looking at her. The plan was both foolhardy and idiotic, but for some bloody reason he found himself actually entertaining it. He'd been alone for lifetimes, only depending upon himself. It was easy that way. He need never fear betrayal.

But it was also lonely.

He knew full well why the Swan girl was saying such things to him. She wanted, needed the bean for her insane scheme. He'd no more than pass it over and she'd turn on him again, like she had at the top of the giant's blasted beanstalk. Swan was a true hero; he'd no hope of a future of any kind with one such as her.

Using a bit of quick sleight of hand, Killian retrieved the bean from the pouch and placed it in his sleeve. It was the work of a moment. "Quite passionate, Swan." And with that, he tossed the now empty pouch to her.

As the town residents began to head in their chosen directions, Killian leaned toward Emma. He'd not give up his chance at freedom from destruction, but he felt an unwelcome pang at the thought of Emma meeting such a fate.

"Why are you really doing this?" he whispered, leaning in close.

"That kid lost his father today," Emma said, emotion coloring her voice, "I'm not letting him loose a mother."

"His father? Who's his father?"

"Neal," she said simply.

Hook took a quick step back. Neal! Baelfire?! Swan's lad had Baelfire for a father? Hook felt a century's worth of remorse well up in him. He had known Baelfire was in town but it had been convenient to forget about him and focus on himself. Like Swan said, "look out for yourself and you'll never get hurt." Except Baelfire – Milah's son, the boy he helped raised – was hurt, lost, gone; and bloody hell, it hurt him as sharply as a hot knife to the heart, the pain an echo of the searing agony he suffered when they were last separated.

The earth shook under him, reminding him that he had little time to lose. Baelfire was dead. There was nothing to be done. And surely there was nothing he could have done?

Another rumble nearly upended his feet. He had to move, he had to leave, he was a survivor and no bloody heroes (idiots!) would change that. He made quick work down to the docks, doing his best to ignore the panicked citizenry of the town. Their fate didn't matter to him. The only person he even remotely cared about was dead. It had been the story of his life - he loved, he lost, he suffered. Yes, he was better off alone, he was better off not caring. It was the mantra he repeated in his head as he headed to the Jolly Roger.

With a practiced hook, he swung himself up and over the rail of his ship. Even without a crew, he was able to get out to sea in a matter of moments. He didn't need anyone. He hadn't for a long time.

Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he pulled out the magic bean. It felt heavier than he remembered, as though the fate to which he had consigned Storybrooke weighed it down. He couldn't help but recall the last time he used a magic bean – to pursue his vengeance. Now, in leaving this town, revenge would finally be his – his Crocodile would meet his end! And he could go anywhere he wanted, he could carouse at taverns with the best rum he could pilfer and enjoy willing wenches. He could be…his eyes were instantly drawn to the navigational legend he had once scratched into the Jolly for Bae. He could be…as empty as he had been when he left Bae to his fate. He had told the lad it wasn't too late to start over, that he could change. But Bae had accused him of being incapable of changing, because he only cared for himself.

So, the question seemed to be, was what he had said to Bae the truth? Could a man really change or better yet, could he change? When Bae had inadvertently told him the secret to exacting his revenge, his initial thought had been only for himself. But then the pain in Bae's voice when he had said, "He chose it over me. My papa abandoned me too," caused him to reconsider. Could he give up his revenge and give Bae the family that had been taken from him?

That hadn't happened and when the boy found the drawing of his mother and accused him of killing her, the pain he had felt had not been just about Milah, but about her small son, who was growing up alone. But learning that the lad, Henry, was Bae's son changed something inside of him. Henry's plea to them all, "We can't do this. She's family. We don't leave family behind," kept playing over and over again inside of his head.

When the cricket fellow had said "cause it's the right thing to do," even though the suggestion of using a portal to save the town had been preposterous, the entire town had been willing to sacrifice their lives for the Evil Queen. Somehow, she had made an impact on the life of a small boy in such a way that an entire town was willing to die to save her. Henry had changed the Queen and a town was willing to listen to him. Perhaps, he could learn a lesson or two from the lad – or from his mother.

Swan was right: they did understand each other. She knew betrayal and abandonment just like he did, and yet she had people around her now. She had a family, and she acted like those fools were worth sacrificing everything for, and for some reason, she had opened that very same door to him.

He had to turn this ship around, and he had to get back toward Storybrooke! He realized that facing them would be less difficult than facing himself had he sailed over the horizon. This, as they would say, was the hard thing to do, but it was the right thing to do.

He was a bloody idiot; maybe he could be a hero, too.

~fin

Thanks for stopping by.