New York, present day

"Look, I know this seems crazy, but you have to listen to me. You have to remem…" The door slammed in Hook's face cutting off his sentence. For a moment he dropped his head in defeat. He shouldn't have hoped it would be this easy. He really shouldn't have. Her father, Charming, had warned him that true love's kiss wouldn't work if Emma didn't remember him. But he had hoped…he'd hoped that something of their…connection…would have remained, even if her memories had fled.

Hook adjusted the prosthetic hand he had decided to wear on his search for Emma. He grimaced as he slowly walked down the hallway toward the stairs. He had become so accustomed to his hook that a hand felt foreign and awkward. Pushing the building door open, he walked out into the chilly late-fall wind.

Hook sighed in frustration. It wasn't just his longing for the lass that brought him here. Her parents, and indeed all in the Enchanted Forest, were in grave danger. If he couldn't find a way to help Emma regain her memories, all was lost. It was a difficult and precarious position he found himself in.

Closing his eyes, he let his mind dwell on the moment the apartment door opened and she was standing there. Ah, but he had missed her! The year since their parting had been interminable. In some ways, it was even worse than when he'd lost Milah. At least with Milah he was left with his vengeance. It was cold comfort, perhaps, but at least there had been something he could do to staunch the bleeding her death had caused within his heart. But loosing Emma…there was no one to punish for her loss. The boy who had caused it was dead, beyond vengeance.

And in all honesty, Hook didn't know if he even had the heart to pursue vengeance anymore. He had found that revenge rung hollow. It hadn't brought Milah back, it hadn't assuaged the pain, even the satisfaction he felt when he thought he had finally killed the Crocodile had worn off in mere moments. All he'd been left with was emptiness.

But this time was different. He had found his Emma. Against all odds, he had travelled across realms, searched city after city and town after town, and had finally found her! Joy bubbled up from the core of his being and he couldn't keep the smile from his face. He would succeed; he knew it! He had known at their last parting that he and Emma Swan were made and meant to be together. He had known that she would have picked him had they had more time to spend together.

Yes, he had hoped she would recognize him. Hoped they could pick up where they had left off a year before, but that wasn't to be. So be it. He was a patient man, a man who loved a challenge. It would be a sacrifice to move slowly with the lass, but he was no stranger to sacrifice, particularly when it was required in the pursuit of love.

Sacrifice. The word brought to mind a scene long past. Hook reached for the chain around his neck. He pushed aside the skull medallion, the reminder of his pirate past, and grabbed ahold of the cross. He closed his eyes and let his mind travel back to that day many centuries before when he had received it…

Enchanted Forest, long long ago

Eight-year-old Killian Jones skipped along the docks beside his father and his twelve-year old brother, Liam. That morning, his father had surprised the boys by returning home a week earlier than expected. A merchant on the high seas, his Da was away more than he was home. Killian and Liam spent the majority of their days in the care of an elderly neighbor.

It hadn't always been like this. They had been such a happy family once. Da had done most of his selling right there along the docks. His trips over seas had been few and far between. Then three years before, Killian's mother had died of a quick and violent fever, and everything had changed. It was as though Da couldn't stand the sight of home or his sons anymore.

Killian was lonely. He and Liam were nearly inseparable, but it wasn't the same as having loving parents around day after day.

But today, things were different. Da was different. He had come home so happy.

"Our luck has changed me lads!" he had said clapping his hands gleefully. "Our ship's finally come in. Come, me boys. I've something to show ye."

They walked the docks quickly. Da was so full of excitement he could barely contain himself. At last the three stopped before a magnificent brig docked off by herself. The Golden Swan was emblazoned upon her in bright golden letters.

"She's a beauty, is she not, my laddies?" Da had said with glee.

"Aye, Da," Liam had answered looking up at his father with a quizzical look in his eye, "but what has she to do with us?"

"What has she to do with us?" Da asked and laughed long and hard. Clapping his hands together, he'd swept both boys in his glance. "Why this very day I've bought her! She's ours."

Killian's eyes grew round with wonder. His father had purchased this fine vessel? It was far grander than any ship the young lad had ever seen.

"What will we do with it, Da?" Killian asked.

"What do you think, me lad?" his father had asked with a smile. "This brig has a hold twice as large as the last I captained. Why, I can sell more than I ever dreamed. I will no longer be bound by the Enchanted Forest. I will sail through all the realms!"

Killian dropped his head before his father could see the tears in his eyes. Travelling the realms? When would he ever see his father if he started travelling to other realms? Da put a gentle finger under Killian's chin and raised it up.

"Fret not, lad," Da said gently. "I know it has been hard on ye and yer brother these last years. I've not liked our separation any more than ye, but it wasn't to be helped. I've worked hard to give us the kind of life we deserve."

"Aye, Da," Killian said in a small voice.

"But it is over now," Da continued. "When I talked of travelling the realms, I meant not to go alone. Nay lads! I wish to take you as well! Think of the grand adventures we shall have, travelling the realms."

"Truly, Da?" Liam and Killian said together. Killian jumped up and down in his excitement. He loved the sea. Da said it was in his blood. To travel the sea and to never be parted from his Da? It sounded like heaven itself!

"What say we stay in the captain's quarters tonight, lads?" Da asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Aye, Da!" Killian shouted.

Several hours later, Killian lay wide awake in his bunk looking up at his father. Liam had fallen asleep long ago, his brother always had been able to fall asleep at the drop of the hat, but Killian was wide awake. The wonder of the new life before him left him breathless with excitement.

"One more story, Da," Killian pleaded, his blue eyes peering up into his father's green ones, "please!"

Da tussled his dark hair and laughed. "Ye're insatiable my young lad, but aye, I see no harm in one more story."

Killian sat up and clapped his hands in delight.

"Hush now, lad," Da said with a smile, "ye don't want to wake yer brother up, now do ye? He's a bear when he doesn't get his sleep."

Killian laughed. Liam did growl most fiercely when awoken before ready. And unfortunately his bite was just as bad as his bark.

"Now, I have one gift for ye before we get to our story," Da said reaching into the neckband of his shirt. The man pulled a silver chain over his head. A silver cross hung from it.

"This has been my talisman all these years," Da said fondly, "I wear it to remind me that nothing good, nothing worthy comes without sacrifice. May it now be yers. Wear yon cross proudly, and know it will never lead you astray."

"Thanks, Da," Killian said reaching for the cross. He slipped the chain over his head and then turned expectantly back to his father. "What about the story?" he asked.

Da laughed and turned toward the trunk that stood open in the corner. He rummaged around for a moment and then grasped a brightly colored hard-back book.

"What is this?" Da asked in puzzlement, "I don't remember having this book."

"What is it?" Killian asked eagerly jumping up and running to is father.

"'Tis called The Magic of Camelot," Da answered, showing Killian the cover. A knight in full armor and a golden crown sat on a splendid white charger. His arm was raised, pointing his magnificent broadsword to the sky. Twelve other knights stood at the ready in the background.

"Once upon a time," Da began, "there lived a boy named Arthur."

New York, present day

Emma closed her apartment door and turned back toward the breakfast table. What had that been all about?

"Who was that?" Henry asked as he speared a bite of his pancake.

Emma glanced back at the door quizzically. "No idea," she said, "Somebody must have left the door open downstairs."

"Hm," Henry grunted starting in on his hot chocolate.

Emma ate her breakfast in silence, her mind on the man who had come to her door. Who was he? How had he known her name? What did he mean her family was in trouble? Most of all, why did she have the feeling she should know him? It was like the feeling you get when you wake in the morning and almost remember the dream you just had.

The pirate was handsome, there was no denying that. Pirate? Why had she thought of him as a pirate? And there was something different about his left hand. What was it? How would she even know there was something different about his hand?

This was insane! Why was she even wasting thought on him? She'd dealt with her fair share of creeps, liars and crazy people. And yet…Emma instinctively knew the man wasn't a creep. Her superpower assured her he was telling the absolute truth. As for being crazy…well, that didn't ring true either.

And when he'd kissed her…there had been a connection, a sudden pulse of electricity in the air. She'd closed her eyes for a fraction of a second and let herself revel in his touch. Then common sense had returned. What was she doing allowing an absolute stranger to kiss her?

Everlasting love. The phrase had been rattling around in her head ever since she had opened the door to the handsome stranger. Emma reached up and fingered the circle necklace she had worn every day for years. Her mind went back to the night she had received it…

Boston, 25 years ago

Six-year-old Emma Swan stomped her booted foot angrily. "You did that on purpose, Tommy Smith!"

Her eight-year-old foster brother scuffed his toe in the snow and frowned back at her. "Did not! It's your own fault it got ruined."

Emma felt the anger growing. She had been so proud of that snow angel. That afternoon, her foster father taught her how to make the shapes in the snow, and that was the first one she had done that really looked like an angel. Then Tommy and his friend Brian had come by and started a snowball fight, and Tommy had trampled right over her beautiful angel! It wasn't fair!

"It's not my fault and you know it," Emma shouted, her mittened hands coming to rest against her hips. "Dad told you not to bother my angel or my snowman, but you came over here anyway."

Tommy's face got even stormier. "What does it matter?" Tommy taunted. "You're just a foster kid anyway."

Emma's face fell, and she felt the tears fill her eyes. She whirled and ran back into the Smith's large, old-fashioned farmhouse. She pelted up the stairs, not even bothering to respond when Mrs. Smith offered her a mug of hot cocoa to warm her up. She catapulted herself into her bedroom, shut the door, and fell face first onto her frilly pink bed. Then the tears started.

It had been such a perfect day at the beginning. It was a few weeks before Christmas, and the night before they had gotten the first big snow storm of the season. It wasn't that powdery stuff either; it was perfect snowman snow. Her foster father had come down to breakfast that morning as excited about the snow as either of the children.

"Tommy, Emma," he said, "we probably got a foot overnight! What do you say we go out and play after breakfast?"

Emma had been so excited. A day spent with the foster father she adored and the foster brother who was really more of a best friend than anything else? It would be awesome! And so, as soon as Emma had finished her breakfast and put her dish in the dishwasher, she'd run to the hall closet and dug out her coat and hat and gloves.

Emma had been placed with the Smiths not long after her third birthday, and they were the only family she ever remembered. They treated her with love and affection, just the way they treated their own biological son. One day they would adopt her and officially make her part of their family; Emma just knew they would! She couldn't wait for the day she could officially become a Smith.

Emma, her foster dad and Tommy had frolicked and laughed throughout most of the morning. They had built the biggest snowman Emma had ever seen. Her dad was so strong! He had picked up those huge balls of snow they used to make the snowman's torso and head like they weighed no more than a cotton ball. Emma knew there was nothing her dad couldn't do.

After the snowman, they had built a snow fort, at Tommy's request, and then her foster dad had taught her about snow angels. He had dropped to the snow right beside Emma and waved his arms and legs back and forth until he had made what looked like an angel's wings and dress. Emma was in awe. Look how much beauty could come from snow? Emma was captivated by beauty and loved to revel in the wonder of the winter season.

Emma buried her head in her hands and wept. Tommy's thoughtless words wounded her deeply. She looked up to him, loved him like a brother, and thought he was the coolest boy in the world. And he thought of her as just a foster kid?

Emma started at the knock on her door. "Can I come in, honey?" her foster father called to her.

Emma swiped her hands across her damp cheeks trying to get rid of the evidence of her tears. "Ok," she called back.

Her foster father was a big man, and he looked awkward ducking into her room and sitting on her tiny frilly bed, but his sympathetic look was beautiful to behold for a hurting little girl. When he opened his arms, she climbed into his lap and buried her face in his chest.

"Tommy told me what he said to you," her dad said, patting her softly on the back. "You know he has a temper and he sometimes says things he doesn't mean."

"Yeah," Emma said non-committally. "I guess so."

"Emma, look at me," her dad said placing a gentle finger under her chin and tipping it up. "You know your mother and I love you…every bit as much as if you were our own flesh and blood. It doesn't matter that you come from the foster system. We love you and we want you."

Her father gently set her back on the bed and got to his feet. He rummaged around in his pocket for a moment and then pulled out a small box.

"I meant to give you this for Christmas," her father said handing her the box. Emma opened the package to reveal a silver necklace with a small, circle pendant.

"Thanks, Dad," Emma said, running her small fingers over the jewelry. "It's pretty."

Her foster dad awkwardly took the necklace out of its box and placed it around her neck. "It's meant to be far more than pretty," he said. "You see this circle? It has no beginning and no end. It is like our love for you, everlasting. It will never come to an end. Let this necklace be your talisman. Believe in everlasting love, and you will never go wrong."

Emma threw herself into her foster father's arms and gave him an exuberant childish hug. She loved him so much!

"What do you say we have a story before its time for bed?" her dad asked.

"Yeah!" Emma answered enthusiastically.

The man and little girl walked hand in hand into the den where her foster father kept shelf after shelf of books. Emma seated herself in her favorite comfortable chair and watched Mr. Smith look through his collection of children's stories.

"Hm," he murmured as his hand closed over a book, "I don't remember this one. I wonder how long we've had it?"

He held up the brightly colored book. A knight in full armor and a golden crown sat on a splendid white charger. His arm was raised, pointing his magnificent broadsword to the sky. Twelve other knights stood at the ready in the background.

"It's called The Magic of Camelot," Dad muttered.

"Can we read it?" Emma asked eagerly. She was fascinated with the beautiful pictures.

"I don't see why not," her foster dad answered. He sat in his chair, lifted Emma onto his lap, and opened the cover.

"Once upon a time," her dad began, "there lived a boy named Arthur."

Notes: Merry Christmas everyone! Consider the start of my new story my Christmas gift to you…unless, of course you don't like the way I write, in which case I apologize for inflicting my story on you on Christmas day.

-Prepare yourself for a LONG story. I will be essentially telling three stories in one: a long, long ago story about the origins of the big villain of the story (who will be introduced in the next chapter); a story that takes place one year ago and details what happened to everyone who was transported back to the Enchanted Forest when Regina destroyed her original curse; and a present day story where Hook tries to bring back Emma's memories…and convince her to reciprocate his feelings for her. I plan to try to follow Once Upon a Time's general format, where the story kind of goes back and forth between the different story lines. Eventually, all three stories will converge, and all will come to a dramatic conclusion….if I'm successful.

-Those of you who have read either of my previous fan fictions (The Strongest Magic and A Christmas Miracle) have probably determined that I am a romantic at heart…and a big fan of Captain Swan. The bulk of the romance will be about them, but there will be a smattering of the newly blossoming romance between Regina and Robin Hood (whatever people are calling that "ship"), and there will also be a continuation of another popular Once Upon a Time couple…but I can't say more now, because it might be too much of a spoiler.

-So I hope this first chapter has left you with several new questions, and whetted your appetite for more. What is the significance of the cross Hook wears and the circle Emma wears? How was it that both Hook's father and Emma's foster father just happened to find the exact same book…after all, they were in totally different realms and lived hundreds of years apart. Does some part of Emma actually remember Hook? Can he find a way to unlock those memories of him? Keep reading to find the answers!

-Coming up next: We meet my story's big bad; and Hook tries to talk to Emma at Henry's bus stop…with interesting results.