A/N: This is my very first multi-chapter, and I'm really excited to finally be sharing it after weeks of brainstorming and writing. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

It seemed fate had wanted to play a cruel trick on him.

Killian had spent decades, centuries even, on the cursed island that was now starting to appear in the distance. And for what? It had brought him nothing but sleepless nights, wasted years and fuel to the fire that fed his ever-growing lust for revenge. It most certainly hadn't resulted in him finding what he was actually looking for; a way to kill the Dark One.

Images of the vile creature crushing the heart of the woman Killian loved flashed before his eyes, as they so often did. He gripped the helm tight enough to turn the knuckles of his lone-hand white. They said time healed all wounds. Well, he'd had an abundance of time, enough for several lifetimes, and yet the pain of a broken heart never seemed to fade. If it hadn't dulled after this long, he was quite certain it never would.

The Crocodile would pay for all the pain he's caused.

''Captain?'' The voice of his first mate broke his silent musings, and he sighed before turning slightly to face him. He could already tell the man was going to test his patience.

''Aye, Mr. Smee? What is it?''

''I just wanted to know, do you really think we won't need the element of surprise on our side?'' The man seemed nervous, something quite ordinary in and of itself, but this time there might actually be legitimate reasoning behind it. However, Killian already knew what was coming and he didn't like to be reminded of it. ''Pan likely won't be happy that we haven't brought him anything this time.''

''Are you questioning your captain's judgement?'' There was a dangerous edge to his voice, one his crew members knew all too well. Once it was audible, it took very little for him to lose his temper.

Then again, Smee had never been the brightest of the bunch.

''No, of course not. I'm just saying, you can't exact revenge on anyone from beyond the grave.''

''Need I remind you, I'm the captain,'' Killian growled, stance threatening and voice raising with every word. ''I give the orders!'' He moved away from the man with the bright red hat to sternly address the rest of his crew. ''And anyone who disobeys can walk the plank and pray the mermaids take pity on his sou-''

Suddenly, a loud bang erupted from the side of the ship, causing it to creak noisily and sway precariously on the waves that had been calm mere moments ago.

Speak of the devil.

Every single person on the Jolly Roger knew exactly what this meant. Killian clenched his jaw while steadying himself on the railing. This was far from the first time they had encountered mermaids in these waters, but even with plenty of experience, this was every sailor's nightmare. He himself would happily take sharks or krakens over these creatures any day.

He heard a screeching sound and immediately knew what kind of fight they were in for. They didn't even bother using their voices to lure them to their doom today, the bloody cretins.

''Prepare for attack!'' It shouldn't have been necessary for him to state the obvious, but a few of his men had remained frozen solid, and he needed every single one of them ready for battle in order for them to survive this.

It didn't take long until the ship was completely surrounded, trapped by creatures even more dangerous than the treacherous waters they now found themselves attack started with the mermaids swimming around the ship at high speed, creating a whirlpool that made the vessel start to spin. Flashes of lightning shortly followed by the low rumble of thunder temporarily lit up the dark blue sky every so often. Panic was spreading among the sailors as each of them either tried to secure the sails or themselves.

Killian had made his way back to the helm and centered all of his strength on keeping it steady, turning it several notches to port to counteract the waves opposing them. He cursed under his breath when he felt the next phase of the battle begin. The mermaids' tails thumped loudly against the sides of the ship, causing it to creak and groan in protest.

''Ready the cannons!'' He had to loudly bark out the order to make himself heard above the noises of screeching mermaids, yelling men and roaring thunder. Fortunately he was able to do so, and several members of the crew quickly moved to prepare the cannons to be fired. There was little organization in the way they did it, but they managed to hit their targets several times and that was what ultimately counted. However, the offended growls of those not yet injured grew louder with every blast of a cannon.

The pelting rain made it difficult for him to shake off the wet hair obscuring his vision without his appendages abandoning the helm. He furrowed his brow, entirely focused on his task. He would not be capsized by fish.

From the corner of his eye he suddenly noticed a rope haphazardly hanging over the side of the railing. Mere seconds later, a hand appeared, gripping it like a lifeline while the black-haired mermaid who it belonged to hoisted herself up. Killian was the only one who had seen the infiltration, as the rest of the crew was still preoccupied on the lower deck.

''Bloody hell.'' With a snarl and a split second of hesitation, he left his spot at the helm. His hook came into contact with her face with a dull thud, and she immediately went limp and fell back into the water, the following splash sounding like it would have been painful had she not been unconscious.

Although that threat was dealt with swiftly and efficiently, it had opened up an opportunity for the attackers. They had all moved to starboard and were now collectively slamming their tails against the side of the ship. Killian, having nothing to hold onto and already being dangerously close to the railing, stumbled and was unable to regain his balance in time for the next strike.

He landed on his back in the water, the air knocked out of his lungs upon impact. Refusing to spend a moment longer here, his arms and legs moved frantically, enabling him to swim up to the surface in a matter of seconds. He gasped for much needed oxygen before he decided to swim to the rope that was still dangling off the side of his vessel.

However, he didn't get far. Suddenly, he felt a hand yank at his boot, pulling him under before he even had the chance to take another breath. Fury reared its ugly head as he met his foe underwater. The mermaid grinned wickedly while she tugged at his leg with both hands, seemingly confident she could drag him to the depths of the sea all on her own. He wouldn't let her indulge that illusion for long.

The water slowed down his movements, but he could still fight her off in other ways. With the heel of his other boot, he dug into her hand, aiming for the bones. To his satisfaction, he heard a crack and a pained hiss while she pulled her hands back in agony. He would grin, but he was in desperate need of air and a long way from the surface.

In addition to that, his victory was short-lived, as the mermaid swam up to his face and viciously dug her sharp nails into his neck in a fit of rage.

He could feel her drawing blood and his lungs felt like they were about to burst, but he refused to be a pirate captain who was bested by water. This wasn't over yet. The mermaid clearly hadn't expected him to be able to fight back here, but she had been gravely mistaken. Unlike before, she was within his reach now, and before she knew it, his hook was buried in her chest.

Her eyes went cold in an instant, barely enough time for a last shriek. Her arms went limp, her muscles stopped functioning. Watching her lifeless form drift away from him managed to slightly dull the pain in his throbbing neck.

But she might not be the only one who would find her watery grave here.

Killian was struggling to form coherent thoughts. His mouth was still closed, the instinct to not let any water in, to survive, still too strong to battle against. This couldn't be the end. He was so close to the shore. He hadn't exacted revenge on the man who murdered the woman he loved. His life's purpose wasn't met.

This couldn't be the end. And yet, it seemed like it was. When the reflex to inhale became too strong to hold off, his head no longer felt like it was about to explode; It felt empty, instead. Powerless against the darkness that was slowly overcoming him until there was nothing left but the fading sound of his heart beating against his rib cage.

/

Emma really shouldn't be here. She knew that. But this might be a once in a lifetime experience, and she wasn't about to miss it.

She'd heard the noises of the mermaids, a foreign sound to her, which was quite extraordinary seeing as she believed she knew everything about Neverland. However, the fact that she didn't know what had caused the unpleasant high-pitched screeching spiked her curiosity and her determination to get to the bottom of it. She wanted to know everything about this sound, and once a seed like that was planted in her mind, there was nothing anyone could do to get it out. After all, if Emma Swan was anything, it was stubborn.

So she headed out of her secluded tree house, with a dagger as her only protection. She could handle herself fine with this weapon, and besides, a sword would just slow her down while making her way through the jungle. It was something she was quite skilled at after all these years, and thus it had only taken her a few minutes to reach the edge of the woods near a bay.

She hid herself behind a large tree, its trunk aiding her cover. When she peeked out the side, her green eyes searched for the source of the still ongoing noise.

What she saw was a ship. A relatively large ship surrounded by mermaids. Their scaly tails reflected the moonlight, which made them visible even from a fair distance away. Half a mile, maybe.

There were many things odd about this sight. For one thing, ships didn't come anywhere near the island. Ever. She could only remember seeing a couple of them around here during her entire life, and they never even came close to the shore.

On top of that, mermaids always sang, which sounded nothing like the hideous sounds they were emitting now. She was guessing it was a sign of aggression. The creatures weren't the friendliest of sorts, and it certainly did look like they had it in for this ship and its occupants. Along with the screeches of the mermaids, she could hear the cries of the men as they fought desperately for their lives. Some of them were firing cannons at their opponents, others had drawn their swords to push back any mermaids that made it aboard.

She couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Then again, there was nothing she could do to aid them in their battle. Her and her dagger against, what, a dozen mermaids? Yeah, not happening.

She was considering going back to her place, away from the tragedy unfolding before her eyes. But that was the moment she spotted it.

At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a black leather jacket. But then she realized it was blanketing a human body; the dark hair and leather-clad legs gave it away. Whoever it was, they were unconscious and lying face down in the shallow waters of the bay. If they hadn't already drowned, they undoubtedly would soon. Unless she did something about it.

Emma bit down on her lower lip, a deep frown forming on her forehead. She really, really wasn't supposed to help this person. Pan had warned her countless times about people from outside of Neverland. Granted, she'd never met anyone like that, but she was inclined to believe him.

Still, she didn't have it in her to just stand by while someone was dying. So she took a deep breath, stuffed her dagger into her boot and emerged from her hiding spot, all while scolding herself for her foolishness. She ran across the beach and into the bay, a weary eye still on the ship in the distance. The cold water bit into her skin, right through her clothes. She shuddered, but didn't slow down. Once the ground was too far away to stand on, she started swimming towards the body.

It was a man, and he was heavy, completely covered in soaking wet leather. (Leather? It wouldn't have been her first choice of fabric, had she been a sailor). First and foremost, she knew she had to get his head above the water, which turned out to be the easiest part. Next, she slung her arm across his torso and started to pull, grunting at his weight but consoling and encouraging herself with the fact that the shore wasn't much further. Goosebumps erupted across her arm and shivers ran down her spine, but she tried to ignore the cold as best she could.

Finally, she dragged him onto the sand, panting heavily. Damn, good deeds took a lot of effort. Especially considering this one was far from over. She had put her hands on her knees, bending over slightly while she caught her breath, when she realized the man on the ground couldn't exactly do the same. She dropped down next him, unsure of how to handle the situation. She had never saved anyone from drowning before and she had no clue what the next phase should be. Get him to breathe, probably. But to accomplish that, she had to get the water out of his system.

Great. Marvelous. How was she supposed to do that? She half considered asking Tink, but she could be on the other side of the island and Emma was positive the stranger did not have enough time left for a search like that. So she tried to reason logically to find a way to rid him of the water in his lungs, while at the same time trying her best not to panic. Ultimately, she put her hands on his chest, repeatedly pushing down with as much strength as she could muster up after her impromptu rescue mission.

She checked for breath. Still nothing.

Okay, she was done being calm. She wasn't about to let him die on her watch, but she was running out of options. She steadied her trembling hands by grabbing onto the lapels of the man's vest.

Her eyes trailed over his pale face, and she realized that this was the first person she'd met, besides Tink, who appeared to be around her age. He somehow looked troubled and at peace at the same time, and she wondered which side would prevail once she could wake him.

If she could wake him.

''Come on, breathe!'' She shook his body frantically, which most likely wasn't helping in any way, but she was desperate. She had become attached to this cause, and she found that she couldn't bear watching this man die. She wouldn't be able to live with the knowledge that she was partially responsible for his death. ''Please.''

At the exact same moment the pleading whisper left her lips, she felt something change within her. A shift of energy deep inside of her, rumbling through her bones. A tingling sensation just beneath her fingertips. A force of nature begging to be let out of its cage.

Emma's breath hitched in her throat, her mind working overtime trying to figure out what was happening to her. She was speechless, utterly fascinated by the unfamiliar and strangely frightening, yet somehow calming feeling.

When she shifted her attention back to the stranger for just a split second, as if looking for guidance, lights started to flicker underneath her hands. The glow turned brighter with every passing moment, and somehow she knew she had to keep her hands right there, fixed on the spot just above his heart. Then all of a sudden, a flash blinded her vision, then the light was gone.

She wasn't sure what startled her more, that or the gasp for air from the man she had apparently just saved. Her heart beat wildly against her chest, and she stared at her palms, utterly puzzled by what had just occurred. In the meantime, he was coughing up water, more than she thought lungs were even capable of containing.

''Who are you?'' His eyes were blue, impossibly blue, and they reflected his confusion quite clearly while he looked up at her.

Oh. She hadn't planned this far ahead. She hadn't actually considered the possibility that she might have to talk to the person whose life she saved; which was something she absolutely could not do. He was an outsider, a person whose plans she didn't know, someone who could have villainous intentions. She couldn't simply choose to trust him, especially not with something as vital as her name.

''Doesn't matter,'' she replied hastily after a few long seconds of tense silence. With a fixed glare she pulled the dagger out of her boot and held it up to show that she was serious about her next words. ''Don't follow me.''

She quickly got up from her crouched position, moving away from him and straight into the jungle. She ran, leaving him there with nothing but the dissatisfaction of an unanswered question. But he was alive, thanks to her. She owed him nothing.