Points of View
*~ Killian
Charming.
Annoyingly so. And also walking with a falter to his step that he's smiling away whenever the women look in his direction because he doesn't want to let them in to the fact that dear old daddy is harboring a wound. A dangerous and deadly wound we should be considering because at the moment Pan is somewhere in the dark jungle plotting his next move and we're already one man down.
Charming.
"Stop staring, or you'll be missing more than just a hand."
His voice is want with the need to sound vicious, but his heart isn't in it and it's off-putting that I can't quite peg down whether it's because of the weariness he's sure to be experiencing from the poison, or if the man's actually not got his heart in it. He's hanging back, away from Emma and Snow, eyes finding mine to give me a less than pleasant smile before I wave the offending hook in his direction to retort,
"Stop pretending, or it'll be more than just a scratch."
And he slows, this time pointedly to turn his gaze upon me with interest and I nod to his side, giving another nod to the blonde who's turned to check on us. The prince and the pirate, I know she's thinking. Running it over in her head the past few hours and wondering if we could truly get along well enough to pull this off – but when her frown shifts to Regina with a roll of those lost eyes, I know it's not our bickering she's concerned with.
The man beside me gives a low hiss and I can't help but sympathize. It's not a quick moving venom, but its bite is nasty and I can't help but admire the brave face he's put on. It's been hours since the Lost Boys attack – and I'm certain it was by their blade he acquired the sting – and his only show has been one of a restrained step and the slight peppering of dew at his brow, easily attributed to the walk.
"Poisonous barbs on a bush," Charming whispers in a rush, not looking away from his wife ahead, "There's gotta be something on the island to cure it."
"Aye," I allow, because while there is, it's not easy to procure. It's why it was such a delicious choice to use on Rumplestiltskin and also why his continued existence quickly clenches my jaw and aches the stump just under the leather. "Persuade the women to take a rest at a hundred paces and I'll relieve myself to fetch a medicine."
There's that look again. I smile because I know it well.
"Be distrustful, Charming, but you're asking a favor – one I am quite willing to fulfill for the sake of saving Emma's son without burying her father – and I'd appreciate a vote of confidence before the deed is done."
With that he turns away, his eyes lingering now on his daughter and there's that flutter of a grin, one that's not so familiar to me. It's pride, pride and affection and a gratefulness that's seldom found in the eyes of one unfamiliar with love – it's a look that hasn't passed these eyes in quite some time. He turns again to me, this time with a nod and some unspoken thankfulness in a knowing thought.
*~Emma
Dammit.
Middle of this God forsaken jungle on an imaginary island in a make believe world and he has to stop and take a piss. So what if David thinks it's a good idea to take a rest. We just had an all out brawl with the Lost Boys. The Lost Boys. Wouldn't this be exactly the time to not stop? To keep pushing through towards the camp on the map through the dangerous jungle. He's the one who called this island Pan's bloody trap.
"Don't see why I can't just set the whole place ablaze," Regina mutters and for a moment I'm inclined to agree, but Mary Margaret's the one who reminds her silently of what happened the last time she cheated.
Taking a piss.
Dammit, Hook.
"We don't have time for this," I manage, map gripped tightly in my hand because I need to hold onto something or I'll squeeze the life out of someone. I'm fairly sure the handle of the sword I'm holding in the other hand is dented by now. Sorry, Neal. Baelfire.
God Dammit.
I'm charging into the jungle before anyone can stop me and I can hear David shouting at me, but I'm fairly sure daddy's girl can handle seeing a man shaking off his junk just before I knee him in it and tell him we have to keep moving. Henry's surrounded by psychotic children and I just wanna go back to that ridiculous little town and have some hot cocoa with cinnamon with the kid and pretend like this all never happened.
"What are you doing?"
He's bent in a bush whispering and for a moment I'm thinkin' maybe he needs some encouragement going potty time in the scary jungle, but then there's a fairy zipping off into the wilderness, angered expression tainting her small face red. Hook is straightening, raising both arms and giving me that stupid grin of his. "Making acquaintances with the locals," he tells me, head dipping slightly in that intoxicating way that makes me want to punch him because he thinks he's so damned cute.
I shake my head, looking away because he does have an infuriatingly enjoyable effect. "You don't make acquaintances, Hook, you make bargains – and Pan said cheaters never win."
"Wasn't cheating, love," he drops his head lower. Any lower and his chin will be in his chest and I know what he's doing, he's making me come closer, making me bow, making me strain to hear him because, he's Hook and this is his game. This strange seduction that is absolutely almost working sometimes. "Was getting us some pixie dust," he holds up a small bag and I reach up, map still in hand, but he snatches it away before I can reach, pocketing the object.
"How is that not cheating?" I cry, gesturing at him pointedly with the sword, "Don't you dare endanger Henry for some game."
And something in his eyes changes. The accusation wipes the smugness of his features and he steps forward to tell me pointedly, "The dust has magical properties, should anyone get injured…"
"Is someone injured?"
He shakes his head and I step away because I know someone is and in that moment I find myself irrationally afraid that maybe he is. Sword fighting and swash buckling with those boys, he could be… turning, I consider Mary Margaret and David.
Mom and Dad.
His Hook finds my arm, smoothly circling it in one careful move and when I turn, I'm almost in his chest and he's staring down at me intently, telling me assuredly, "It's an insurance policy, Emma."
Nothing about his words are a lie. Neither is the look of concern etched over his features as he continues to stare a moment before his mouth opens slightly and he considers something, then clamps his lips shut and sips away, moving back through the jungle towards the others.
*~ Charming
I haven't been her father for more than a year and I've already seen her heart broken too many times to bear and when she walks out of that jungle, just a minute after Hook, I can see the confusion on her face – the conflict in her mind over what's happening in her heart. And it's gut wrenching because everything about the guy tells me that I should be warning her against him and keeping her away from him, but he's just handed me a small satchel and told me to sprinkle a light dusting whenever it starts to sting.
He'd get more if I needed.
He'd risk lying to Regina and Emma.
He'd chance going into the jungle alone.
For me.
Son of a bitch is in love with her.
It's oddly amusing, watching him pass a glance at her as she walks past Mary Margaret who also senses something amiss, because he's Captain Hook. Everything we know about him spells out bad news, but I know what it is to be looked upon as bad news, to be doubted and judged and cast aside. Benefit of the doubt, it's what I would give him – have been giving him – and I hope he won't cross her because I would take more than his hand for that.
"Hey." I catch her by surprise as we start to move again and she jerks away before giving me that odd smirk of hers, the one she gets from her mother. "You alright?"
She nods slowly and inches away when I reach for the map. Realizing her actions, she burns with embarrassment before handing it over with a simple, "I feel like if I let that go, it's like letting Henry go."
The admission is quiet and honest and I want to stop her and pull her into my arms for an embrace, but I know with her there are boundaries and I have to understand and accept them. "As long as we're alive, none of us are letting Henry go."
She's smiling, wiping away a tear she won't show as she looks away. "Hook was getting pixie dust, says it's some sort of insurance policy."
"Don't see why that would be a bad thing," I respond lightly.
She turns to look up at me with a look of surprise, "You two chums now?"
The words and the amusement behind them elicit a laugh that she imitates for a breath before I shrug and offer quietly, "He's growing on me… but don't tell him I said that."
"Oh no," she agrees, "You'll never hear the end of it."
"Might end up his cabin boy," I quip, enjoying the moment with Emma.
My little girl.
"Would you two stop the chattering?" Hook calls back at us without turning, "All of your happiness is making Regina feel quite left out." Then he turns, "We wouldn't want her to go and cheat again to be rid of you."
I chuckle and Emma gives a light snort before giving me a bright grin. Or at least, the brightest I've seen in days, and it's comforting. Nudging her bare arm with my knuckles, I nod, "Everyone deserves a second chance," and I watch her glancing ahead, eyes on the pirate who's half turned, caught looking back at her.
*~ Snow
Oh, Emma.
Some part of me wants to pull her away from her father because I know what he's telling her and I know who he's talking about and maybe it's the spot of darkness in my heart, but I'm unsure about the pirate stealing glances at my daughter. He's been nothing but trouble. He'll be nothing but trouble.
And isn't that what they said about David.
The man with the renewed swagger in his step is shifting back, coming to my side and when he finally gets there, I can see the fire in his eyes. The accomplishment in just talking to his daughter. His little girl. With his courage and his nerve and his overconfident strut. She's walking ahead now, by herself, but it isn't for long because the man ahead has noticed and he's eased up to find himself at her side.
Neither is saying anything and it's both frustrating and humorous.
I want to chalk it up to exhaustion, but I can see the way he's looking at her while she's staring at the jungle in front of her – mind vivaciously working ten things at once: Regina and Rumplestiltskin and how they could betray them at any moment; Peter Pan and his Lost Boys and how they could betray us at any moment… Henry and how he was in that jungle somewhere alone, or worse, surrounded by the group of boys that had attacked us, playing some game. She was thinking about Pan's games and how they might be smarter next time, faster, or more clever, and…
And then she's looking up at Hook.
She's got him on her mind as well and I want to rush forward and pull her back into the safety of her parents, but she's a grown woman. Emma is capable of deciding for herself whether Killian Jones is trustworthy or not and I can tell, by the way her body shifts when he catches her looking, that she may not find him entirely honorable, but she certainly is willing to give him that chance.
Because despite it all, she has the same spirit as her parents. Emma still has, despite her hard life and her heartbreaks, all of the hope she was born with. Locking arms with Charming, I wish I had her conviction, and it's a jarring thought because I had always thought myself the truest believer in all things magical. In all possibilities and all wondrous things. But that heart doesn't belong to me anymore.
It belongs to a little lost girl who looks to a villain for help.
And trusts that he will.
And it belongs to a pirate who looks to a woman to believe in him.
And knows that she does.
*~End