a/n: It's like Christmas in July! This was part of a fic I started during the winter hiatus and never finished. I wanted a second-attempt TLK but also something more action-oriented. Going in, you should know that prior to this Killian gave Henry & Emma the book, but it's been magically updated to also show the story since season 1.

"Emma. Run."

"What is that?"

Killian crossed the space between them and forced the potion into her hand, closing her fingers around it roughly. "Trust me love, run."

"I don't—"

Pulling a long knife from the inside of his boot, he put himself in between her and the treeline. "Now, Swan! Go!"

Everything in her was screaming at her to listen to him. To turn around and run as fast and as far as she could, to forget that she had ever agreed to hear him out. But she couldn't get her feet to listen. Emma stayed rooted to the spot — fingers fumbling to push the glass bottle into the pocket of her jeans — as a monster stepped out from the trees and bellowed at them.

It looked like something from a nightmare, though not one she could recall ever having. The one-eyed creature was at least thirty feet tall, wielding a spiked club that was as big as a man. Killian was moving towards it cautiously and Emma realized that it wasn't too late; she could still run.

Run, and leave the stranger who knew her to die at the hands of some hideous giant that shouldn't possibly exist. Except it did. And if giants were real then everything else must be too and Killian Jones — whoever he was to her — had come to find her and bring her home.

Nobody had ever come to find her before.

Emma didn't remember making the decision to move. Before she was aware of what was happening she was running towards Killian just as the giant's club was coming down for a swing. With something between a scream and a shout she launched herself at her stalker, knocking them both to the ground, just barely below the range of the giant's swing.

Killian ground out a curse and scrambled over to her, covering her body with his own as the monster swung again. Emma grabbed onto the lapels of his coat, her fingers digging into the thick leather, and squeezed her eyes shut. There was a bright flash that lasted less than a second and she wondered briefly if that was all she would get of the supposed light at the end of the tunnel. She thought of Henry, and tried to brace herself for the club's impact but it never came and her eyes blinked open as the giant gave a frustrated howl.

"Emma, what did you do?"

Killian's voice was rough in her ear and she let go of the coat to stare at her hands. Had she done something? He was still covering her with his body — his face only an inch from hers, breath hot in her ear.

"I, I don't—" Her eyes went wide as the giant struck again. He winced, but the club bounced uselessly off Killian's back. "The coat. I think it's your coat."

His head turned towards her sharply, stubbled jaw scratching her cheek, and she met his eyes for a moment before he shifted so that she was completely underneath him, popping the collar of his coat and ducking his head down to better protect them both. "Tuck your feet in, love," he whispered, voice low in her ear.

Emma complied, but her mind was already racing ahead, adrenaline making connections for her that she would never have been able to sort through under normal circumstances. She had turned his coat into a magical shield, just more proof that everything he'd said, everything in that damn book, was true. An old friend, he'd called himself right before he'd kissed her in an attempt to make her remember him. But clearly he was more than that. He loved her, and she couldn't remember him. The book had talked about the power of true love's kiss — it was how she'd broken the original curse when Henry had nearly died but it never would have worked if she hadn't believed first.

Like she believed now.

Sucking in a breath, Emma tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his as another strike from the giant — from the ogre — hit his coat.

He broke the contact almost immediately. "I'm flattered that's how you'd choose to go out, truly. However, I'd much rather we survive this mess."

Her breath was coming in heaving gulps of air and Emma struggled to push everything back down. It was too much and he was right; they needed a plan. She was not about to die. She would not leave her family. Not ever again. Digging her elbows into the ground, she pushed herself up his body so she could see some of what was going on, ignoring Hook's hiss to stay still.

Emma reached back for the memory of the last time she'd come face to face with an ogre. The eye was its weakness, but the damn thing was too tall and she didn't have her gun on her. All they had was Hook's knife and throwing it was a long shot at best. They'd be utterly screwed if it missed. Unless...

"When I tell you to, roll us as fast as you can to your right."

"That plan leaves something to be desired, love."

It was still a long shot, but if she could bring the ogre down to their level… "Just trust me. When I say, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't question her further. Pressing their bodies even closer together, he shifted and tried to get the edges of the coat underneath her, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Aye."

Emma forced everything else aside (including quips about more enjoyable activities) and kept her eyes glued to the trees. Her nails dug into her palms as she tried to bring the magic up. She could feel it, it was right there.

"Emma?"

One of the trees creaked, and she gripped onto Hook's vest in an attempt to hold on. "Now!"

They rolled in a tangle of legs as the tall cedar she'd been focusing on suddenly uprooted itself and fell, concussing the ogre before hitting the ground where they'd been moments earlier. The beast swayed on its feet for a moment, then fell forwards and hit the earth with a resounding thud.

A stone retaining wall abruptly stopped the roll Hook had thrown them into. She grunted at the impact but his arms were around her still and he pulled her tighter so that her back was no longer pressed against it.

"The eye." Emma winced at the hoarse croak that was her voice all of a sudden. "You need to stab it in the eye."

Hook's eyes narrowed, but he got up and turned from her without question, picking his dagger up from the ground and approaching the unconscious ogre. A quick strike and it was done; the ogre's corpse gave a great shudder then finally, inexplicably, disappeared entirely.

Emma shut her eyes and let her breath out in a relieved whoosh. The adrenaline drained from her and she could no longer stop the flood of memories from the past twelve years. They swirled in her mind and fought for dominance, easy happiness pressing up against hard truth. Believing in magic and fairy tales was both so much harder and so much easier the second time around.

"Swan."

Hook's voice pulled her from her thoughts. She blinked rapidly but her gaze moved past him to the fallen tree and the space where the ogre had been. Emma tried desperately to hold onto the problem in front of her, to the ogre and the disappearing corpse and the magic that had saved their asses. What had happened that brought magic back to this world with Storybrooke gone?

"It shouldn't be possible."

He ignored her statement. "How did you know about the eye?"

Emma's brain refused to catch up to his question, still fixated on trying to sort out what magic was doing in New York City. Reaching out, she toyed absently with the edge of his coat. Whatever protection spell she'd used was still there and she wondered if Regina had hidden magic lessons in amongst the false memories.

"Magic shouldn't…" she trailed off. Exist, part of her wanted to scream. Be here, the rest of her — the real her, the sheriff, the saviour — finished silently.

"Emma." His tone jerked her out of her stupor and she finally looked up to meet his gaze. "How did you know about the eye?"

She tried to summon the memory that her adrenaline had grasped onto — a grassy plain on the edge of a forest, tripping over a rock, Mary Margaret with a bow — but the explanation wouldn't come out and her mouth opened and closed uselessly.

He sighed and sat down next to her against the retaining wall. "Do you have the potion still?" She nodded. "You need to drink it, love. This will all make sense if you do."

"I don't need it."

"Yes, you do. You need to remem—"

"—Hook." He stared at her as she cut him off, hope simmering barely concealed in his eyes. "I don't need it," she whispered. "I remember. I just… I need a minute."

He released a breath she hadn't realized he was holding. "Aye. Nothing like a skirmish with an ogre to jog the memory."

"Something like that," she muttered, but didn't correct the assumption. Coward, she cursed but it was all too much still. The memories, the ogre, the fact that he'd tried true love's kiss to bring her back, the fact that he'd come back at all, the fact that she'd tried true love's kiss and it had worked… The silence stretched between them as Emma struggled to get her bearings. A choking mixture of grief and gratitude filled her chest and she wondered what "normal" would be now that she had two lives in her head.

She hadn't talked about it with them when the curse was broken — hadn't felt like talking about any of it really. But almost everyone else in Storybrooke must have had this same feeling at some point. Had it been easier for them to reconcile the two because one existed solely to be miserable? Had she been truly happy, or had she and Henry just been riding the coattails of the memories Regina had given them?

"How long has it been?"

"A little over a year."

She nodded, trying to let the new information sink in. "How long have you been…"

"Searching for you?"

Emma glanced at him quickly and realized she probably didn't need the answer to that question. "You said my parents are in danger?"

"That's a bit of a longer tale. Emma, perhaps we should head someplace else."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Taking a deep breath, she started to push herself up off the ground but Hook stood first and offered his hand. She took it, and suddenly couldn't bring herself to let go. Stepping into him, she wrapped her arms around him tightly. Hook froze for an instant, then his hand wove into the hair between her shoulders as his other arm came around her lower back.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For coming to get me."

"I wouldn't be thanking me yet."

She didn't say anything, just tightened her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

"It's good to have you back, love," he murmured into her hair. Then his arms loosened around her and he pulled back to look at her. "I saw a pub a short walk from here, perhaps a drink while I catch you up?"

Emma smiled. "That sounds like a really, really good idea."