They had just reached the two-hour mark on their little road trip, the chatter having died down amongst the three occupants of the yellow bug. The only sound heard, besides the hum of cars passing them by, was the DJ playing requests on the radio which was tuned down in favour of the comfortable silence that settled amongst them.

Frankly, Emma didn't mind the quiet. It gave her time to think and process the past 24 hours of her life – from bailing Hook out of jail, to regaining her memories and (the fucking cherry on top) to finding out Walsh, the guy she was seriously contemplating on marrying, was actually a flying monkey.

Seriously, Emma wondered. What is my life sometimes?

But despite the monkey situation, the fact that Henry didn't have his memories and the incoming onslaught of trouble she'd inevitably have to face once she reached Storybrooke, she was grateful. She knew she had described the recovery of her memories as something akin to waking up from a dream, a good dream, but she realized she wouldn't have had it any other way. It hurt to think that the memories of keeping Henry and raising him were false after all, but she knew she would shoulder on, having already gone through this upon her reconnection with Henry those couple of years ago.

Besides, she recalled what Regina said. Her past might not have been real but her future had been. The past year with Henry had been wonderful, they were in a good place in life and she had gotten her wish of being able to be a proper mother to him. And she knew it would be worth even more if Henry had his entire family with him, weird as that tree was. They were going home to Storybrooke where they would all be together.

Home.

For some reason, she felt an inexplicable urge to look at the man who was currently riding shotgun to her right at the thought of the word. They had only just reconnected but the way they were interacting, it almost felt as if no time had passed at all and she wondered if maybe home was more about this feeling of comfort, of familiarity and security than the actual place at all.

Then again, she thought Neal made her feel all that and he turned out to be a fraud. The same thing applied with Walsh. She felt her heart harden at that.

She sighed. At least I'll always have Henry. And my bug.

She smiled.

"A shilling for your thoughts, love?"

Emma turned her head sharply at his voice breaking the bubble of silence they were under, meeting his piercing blue gaze quickly before turning back to the road. She shook her head and chuckled.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just… really excited. For this case." She heard a shuffle in the back, indicating that Henry was listening and raised her eyebrow at Hook sharply, knowing he'd get the hint that she couldn't really talk about it.

He nodded. "Aye. It will be nice to be on familiar ground again." He cocked his head and rubbed at the side of his face with his hand. "New York is… quite a curious place. Full of interesting people."

She snorted. "That's rich, coming from you Ho-" She paused. "Killian."

"Oh so you're interested in my… person then? Is it the leather that turns your fancy?" He grinned and that's when Henry piped in.

"Yeah, what's with the pirate attire? Are you some type of carny worker or is it for undercover?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean by the term 'carny' but I don't like what it implies."

"How can you not know what a carny is?" Henry asked incredulously.

Emma decided it was best to cut in lest Henry got even more curious. "It's for undercover kid, let's leave it at that."

"I'm guessing Storybrooke's got a theme park then because I don't see how a pirate costume can be seen as exactly subtle. Am I right mom?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that black helps me blend perfectly into the night and isn't conspicuous at all!" Hook cried, turning to Henry.

Emma rolled her eyes. Touchy much?

Then Henry rolled his eyes too, so much like her that she smirked. "Except when it's day time."

"What would you know of espionage anyway– " Hook said defensively.

"My mom's a bail bondsperson, of course I know about spying."

"Well, your mother is exceptionally talented at her work." She smiled at how easy the praise tumbled from his lips. "But I've done my fair share of reconnaissance and I am bloody good at it. I've managed to navigate my way undetected through a tower filled with guards while only laying a finger on one of them–"

"Alright, time to cut this short before it gets… violent. Let's just focus on getting to Storybrooke, ok guys?"

He grinned. "Ah, too right you are lass. And once we get there, well… That's when the fun really begins, eh Swan?"

She didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking so she rolled her eyes at the familiar turn of his words.

"Right," she drawled sarcastically but couldn't help the small smile that wormed its way onto her lips.

They descended into silence once more when Henry asked, "So does that mean Storybrooke doesn't have a theme park after all? Cause I was really looking forward to that."

Emma shook her head in amusement and replied, "Trust me kid, there's a lot you're going to love about Storybrooke once we get there."

Henry leaned forward and rested his hands around the headrest of Emma's seat.

"Like what?"

Emma was about to tell him about the library when Hook spoke up, "I'm sorry to interrupt you Swan, but could you turn up the…" He scrunched his nose in thought and said somewhat hesitantly, as if to test the word, "radio please?"

"What? Why?" And how does he know what a radio is?

She glanced up at him and saw him bouncing in his seat, the twinkle in his eye positively gleaming underneath the city lights, his prosthetic hand tapping excitedly against his lap.

What the hell?

"Because I love this song."

Curious, Emma turned up the radio and her jaw dropped when she recognized the song, then it literally hit the ground when Hook started singing along.

The first lines of Mr. Brightside broke out and she was astounded to see him crooning the words perfectly in sync with the singer. One thought was running across her mind over and over again:

No, really, what the hell?

She could do nothing but gape at him. But when Henry, completely oblivious to the oddity of Captain Hook, a 300-year-old pirate from the Enchanted Forest, singing Mr. Brightside, started singing along she had to close her mouth lest she wanted him to be suspicious. Of course this wouldn't be odd to Henry. Apart from the 'carny' quip, there shouldn't have been anything off about the situation. To him Hook was just a client of his mom's that happened to know Mr. Brightside because it was a pretty popular song. He was probably thinking, "Who doesn't love this song?" judging by the way he was rocking his head to and fro.

Then there was Hook, who was also slightly nodding his head and bouncing his right leg in time with the beat, eyes closed and lost to the melody and lyrics of the song.

Emma swallowed.

Despite the flat out weirdness of the situation, she took the opportunity to survey the pirate. She'd never seen him look so unguarded, so carefree, so… human. Even when they had been in Neverland and especially in the Enchanted Forest, there was a part of her that rejected the idea of a living, breathing Captain Hook who wasn't fresh out of the pages of J.M. Barrie's novel but who had his heart broken yet found hope in her. Her. Even with his promises of winning her heart and fun and thinking of her… It still had an element of fantasy to it, like she was still dreaming and she'd wake up in her lonely flat in Boston with the events of Storybrooke fading from her mind.

But they were in her world now. Not the Enchanted Forest, not Neverland, her world. All those accumulated moments felt so tangible in her head and for the first time, the veil of fantasy that always accompanied those memories seemed to slowly lift. She wasn't entirely opposed to his promise of fun and that revelation made her feel lighter than she genuinely had in a long time.

And she had to admit that seeing him like this, in her car, rocking out to the Killers along with her son, she found him… attractive, and not just physically although that was undeniable as well.

Suddenly, Henry turned and cried, "Come on, mom! Sing with us!"

She was about to shake her head no when Hook laughed, "Oh come on Emma, you heard the lad. Join in our chorus! It'll be fun!"

She looked at him, pupils dilated, breaths shallow and flush adorning his face and swallowed. She was such a goner. But then she shook her head, this time in bewilderment and defeat before belting out: "Choking on your alibi!"

Henry and Hook laughed, Emma rolled the windows down and together, they serenaded the passing city with their chorus of laughter and merriment.

Yes, she thought, peeking at Hook from the corner of her eye, she wouldn't be entirely opposed to his promise of fun if it meant moments like this.

~oOo~

When the sun melted into the sky, when night had fallen and when she had finally convinced Henry to go to sleep, she felt it safe to ask him.

"How did you know that song?" Her voice was soft and curious, not wanting to rouse Henry from his slumber. "How did you know what a radio was?"

He turned to her with a small smile on his lips. "It's like I said love, New York is full of interesting people, not in the least opposed to educating a stranger in the ways of their culture."

"But how did you even meet these people?"

He rubbed the side of his face with his hand again, a habit seemingly born from his feeling of uncertainty. "Let's just say that I had a bout of vagrancy before successfully locating Neal's apartment."

Emma turned to him in shock. "You were homeless?"

He grimaced, although she was pretty sure he meant to smile at her reassuringly, "I was travelling, love. I was more like a tourist, backpacking through the streets of New York." He smiled once more, "And it was worth all the tribulations," then took a deep breath and added softly, "because it lead me back to you."

She suddenly felt a lump in her throat. He had never spoken of the measures he took to find her until this moment and she tried to place herself in his shoes, tried to picture herself being in an unfamiliar realm, alone, with no knowledge of anyone, not an inkling of where to look for a certain person except for a note and a potion bottle.

Yet he found her, saved her, and she couldn't help the overwhelming sense of gratitude and… something else she wasn't willing to name just yet, that she felt for the pirate next to her who has constantly done things for her no one else ever had (apart from Henry) like come back for her and surprise her and believe in her unfailingly and god, come back for her.

She took a deep breath to calm the emotion that was rising in her chest and threatening to spill from her eyes in the form of tears.

He didn't elaborate and she didn't ask because she had a feeling he wasn't ready to divulge. Instead, she tried to make light of things. "Mr. Brightside, huh?" He chuckled. "Why the song choice?"

He smiled fondly and explained. "One of the vagabonds I met in the bustling streets of New York found himself in the position he was in because his former lover left him for another."

"Ok… but I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"You see, this former lover of his didn't just leave him. She took all his valued possessions from him, drained him of his accounts and monetary assets because apparently he thought it was safe to provide her with the knowledge of its whereabouts, its access. She led him to believe that what they had was true and so he trusted her."

She shuddered, the story hitting a little close to home, with her knowing exactly what it felt like to trust your heart to someone only to be mistaken in light of an ultimate betrayal.

"He told me that in hindsight though, he had his suspicions on her infidelity but was too blinded by his love for her to actually act on them."

"Love is blind," she muttered and he nodded in agreement.

"Indeed. And so, devastated from her duplicity, he fell into a deep depression which inevitably cost him his belongings, his home, seeing as he had debts to pay, as well as his job, for he lost the will to live at the time.

"Living on the streets gave him much time to ponder and his thoughts, dark with situations of her and her new lover only fueled his melancholy. Then he heard the song drifting from the window of the tenant living within the building of the alley he had chosen as his niche. He found it fitting to his situation and of course, it helped that the tenant would play it repeatedly each night. After that, he found solace in that nightly croon, it was somewhat of a lullaby to soothe his soul, however fleeting it lasted."

He smiled fondly. "I found him because I tripped over his arm and was unable to get up, unaccustomed to the realm and exhausted from my daily roaming. He offered me his little alcove as sanctuary. I spent a few nights there and they were filled with his tale and that tune. It was the background music to our story-telling and when he learned that I was unfamiliar with the song, he taught me."

"Seems like a cool guy. Why didn't he accompany you?"

"Well there was only so much whining I could take after all!"

He scowled and she chuckled in amusement. "The man wouldn't cease to speak of his tragedy and his failures. It wasn't the kind of inspiration I needed on my trek."

"Eh, complainers do tend to weigh you down."

"You know me Swan, I don't take too kindly to cowards and indolent men. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets."

She smiled. "Captain Hook's famous words."

He was quiet for a bit then he added quite seriously, "But odd as it is, the song came as a source of great comfort to me when I found you. With him."

Silence descended over them and Emma was reminded once more of what it felt like to have gone through what he had. She mentally looked over the lyrics – of cages and kisses and jealousy and seas – and could see how he drew a sense of security from it, when a song vocalizes your very thoughts and feelings, understanding you in ways not all people can, can be reassuring.

She could only imagine how lonely and frustrated he felt at seeing her proposed to by Walsh, (even if he did turn out to be a psycho mutant monkey with wings)... especially with the way things ended (progressed?) between them that last time they saw each other with her memories intact.

There goes her feelings again, threatening to bubble over as she bit back a whimper. He had to know that she appreciated what he had gone through, for her and for Henry, for her family. She had to tell him but she couldn't find the words.

"Hook I… I'm not good at this but, I want you to know… I mean, that is, I... I'm…"

Dammit Emma, she thought frustratingly, why do you have to make it so hard…

She was startled from her thoughts when she felt his leather clad hand brush her own, which was resting on the center console that was situated between their seats. She looked at him.

"I know," he said quietly, not a hint of irony, teasing or arrogance. "You're welcome."

With nothing but road ahead of and behind her, she slowed down and decided to take the time to look at him properly, to study the lines that crossed his face and the piercing shade of blue his eyes held and saw nothing there but truth and understanding.

She didn't have to say it but he read it anyway. Open book.

She could see the signage that would welcome them into Storybrooke just right ahead and she was happy to finally be home.

On her way to see her parents again and with their hands brushing against each other, Hook… Killian sighing contentedly by her side and Henry breathing deeply into the leather seats, she thought that perhaps she had been home all this time after all.

Author's Note: This is my first foray into CS fan fiction. Hope you liked it!