Hook sat on one of the many hard plastic chairs in the waiting room of the hospital, trying to find a comfortable position that eased the soreness from being tied up and tossed into the back of a car, chased by flying monkeys, almost drowned, and then thrown bodily against a barn wall. Thankfully the hay bales absorbed most of the impact or he would have been unconscious a whole lot longer. Small mercies. This really had been a most trying day and he was bone weary. At least Zelena had been stopped, the baby saved, and they could find a modicum of peace. Outwardly, for him, anyway. His mind was a maelstrom of regrets, gratitude, confusion, and if he were to pursue it, hurt. Chasing that particular emotion would take him away from what was worth fighting for and he held on to that notion — tenuous grasp though it was at this second.

After watching Emma and her family welcome the new Prince into their loving embrace from the doorway of Snow's room, Hook considered leaving the hospital, but he honestly didn't know where to go. There was no place he belonged. No other location held any appeal at the moment, but he couldn't continue intruding on the happiness of this joyous event either. He wasn't invited, nor did he truly expect to be, all things considered. So, he removed himself to a more appropriate distance. Slouching down in the seat, he crossed his arms over his chest, stretched his legs in front of him, crossing them as well, and tipped his head back, closing his eyes against the noise and commotion of the busy infirmary, letting himself be tugged down into some version of relaxation that was suspiciously like numbness.

He was roused when someone sat down in the creaky chair beside him with a sigh. Hook slowly raised his head and blinked a few times, re-orienting himself to the bustle of the hospital's routine. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, having first gotten lost in his thoughts then a half-dream, half-memory of sailing on the Jolly Roger that did nothing to clear his head, but instead made him feel all the more out of place.

"You snore," David commented, passing Hook a small cup of steaming coffee. "Loudly," he added.

"Is it spiked?" Hook asked roughly, holding up the spongy cup in salute.

"I wish," David said with a chuckle before taking a sip. "Don't suppose you could remedy that?" he asked looking at Hook from the corner of his eyes with a smirk fixed on his lips.

"Sorry, mate. I'm in enough trouble. Gotta draw the line somewhere."

David sighed and held the cup between his hands gently rolling it back and forth, blowing on it. "I suppose you're right. Maybe later."

"Congratulations, by the way. On the Prince. He's a handsome, and might I add, resilient lad."

Smiling brightly, David looked quite proud. "He looks a lot like Emma did, actually. You know, only...boyish."

Hook only nodded, not really daring to bring Emma into any conversation with David right now. There was too much to be said and this was not the time nor place to say it. Best stick with the less complicated topics. "I'm sure he'll become a fine man. Shouldn't you be with him and your wife right now?"

"I'll go back in a minute. I was getting drowsy and decided to take a little walk to wake up, and then I saw you sitting there sawing wood, so I thought I would ease the ears of the staff and wake you up too," he teased.

Hook smiled, but when David's brows furrowed as he seemed to be contemplating his next words, Hook became guarded. He knew that look and it meant David had something important he wanted to talk about. Normally, he would consider confiding in David, but he was still feeling too raw. He hadn't finished processing everything yet to know what he was thinking, never mind how to say it. He leaned forward ready to stand up for a hasty retreat —

"Thank you," David said, looking earnestly over at Hook who shifted back in his seat with a dull thud, his opportunity to escape lost.

David's sincerity squeezed at Hook's heart, but his gratitude felt misplaced, causing Hook to hesitate with his response and wish again he'd left earlier. He waved his coffee cup around since it was in his hand, sloshing a little over the edge, and shook his head. "Really, mate, I didn't — "

"No, no, let me finish," David interrupted. Hook closed his mouth with a snap, pressing his lips together and staring down at the floor. He took a sip of the watery, yet somehow still overly bitter brew and focused on the heat of it trailing through his chest rather than his discomfort at being thanked for what boiled down to him risking all their lives by forcing Emma to give up her magic for him.

"Thanks for coming with us to get my boy back today. And for going with Emma earlier," he continued.

Hook hummed and said, "Yes, well, I apparently make fine cannon fodder after all."

David snorted, "Let's face it, with Zelena, we were all cannon fodder. But I wasn't sending Emma out there without someone I knew for sure who would watch her back and make sure she came back to us."

"Yes, well, it wasn't your best plan, mate, sorry to say," Hook admitted.

"It all worked out in the end though, didn't it?" David asked with a satisfied smile.

Hook was still dubious. "That would depend on the goal, I suppose."

"Well, we're all here, and we're all safe. I'd say that's a pretty important goal."

Here for now, Hook thought to himself. He just nodded, a tight smile his default for this conversation. He and David both sipped again from their cups, each of them grimacing at the after taste.

"Ugh, this shit's worse than Granny's if that's even possible," David groaned. "I don't think your rum could improve it, either. Good thing we didn't waste any."

"Right you are, Prince." Hook agreed.

David stood up and dumped his cup in the nearest garbage can in disgust, then returned to where Hook sat contemplating the oily film floating on top of the dark liquid. It was not the most vile thing he'd ever ingested, but it was a close second.

"Oh, and Killian," David began, breaking in on Hook's thoughts.

"Yes, David?" Hook asked, waiting for another of the Prince's bad jokes he was so fond of throwing out into the world at large.

"I'm sorry. About before. Sorry for not believing you about the note. I'm sure, now that we all have our memories back, someone will remember sending it to you. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions the way I did. I'm grateful you brought Emma back to us no matter who sent you to get her."

Hook didn't know what to say. He wasn't expecting an apology from David. Quite honestly, it wasn't his style — at least not with Hook. The only thing he could do was thank David, so he did. He just hoped he hadn't set Emma's family up for more heartbreak if she really chose to leave. He'd just have to make sure she found the right reasons to stay.

David smiled brightly and kicked at Hook's foot. "Come on, then. Time for you to meet my son."

Hook stood and threw out his cup as well and asked, "Are you sure, mate? I don't want to intrude upon your family's quiet time with the lad."

David clapped Killian on the shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and said, "Of course I'm sure! Just do me a favor and make sure you mention how he doesn't look like a 'Leopold.'"

Hook rolled his eyes, but went along nonetheless.