Mary Margaret's soft sympathetic whisper of her name is what snaps Emma's patience. With a growl she leaves the light of the campfire, trying to escape the suffocating feeling of sadness and anger and frustration she's been feeling since Echo Cave. Neal makes an aborted move to follow her as she storms off, but it's Hook who ends up pursuing her into the jungle.
"Swan, wait," he urges. "This is no time to go off alone. I understand why you're angry but Pan- "
"I'm sick of people saying they understand how I feel," Emma shouts, whirling to face him. "Mary Margaret doesn't understand how hard it is for me to reconcile having loving parents with twenty-eight years of feeling unwanted."
"I'm sure she -"
"Neal doesn't understand how betrayed and worthless I felt when he set me up, how long I hated myself for being such a fool."
"Lass, we need to go back."
"They can't possibly understand what this fucking island is doing to me, how I can barely go for a couple minutes before remembering some painful pitiful bit of my existence while worrying for Henry on top of that."
"Emma, I know you- "
"And you!" Hook stiffens. "You don't know or understand or whatever the hell you're gonna say. Because Milah didn't abandon you Hook, she died!"
Emma regrets the words no sooner do they leave her lips, but it's already too late. She gets a split second glimpse of the utterly broken look in his ocean eyes, like she'd crushed his heart in her hands, before Hook just completely shuts down. She's seen many sides of the man before her, but the pirate she's looking at now is a cold entirely blank slate. No anger or sorrow or casual indifference…just nothing. Dead is the only description she can think of for his expression, as if her words have struck out at his very soul.
"Hook I- "
He doesn't let her finish. Leather coat swirling around him, he abruptly turns and stalks back to camp the way they came. Despite how insistent he'd been about safety just moments before, he doesn't once look back at her.
—
Emma is still standing in the same spot Killian had left her when a rustling nearby has her cursing herself for not heeding Hook's advice about being out here alone. It's with no small measure of relief that Emma sheathes her sword upon seeing David emerge.
"I was just preparing to head back," she preempts.
David shakes his head. "I wanted to have a quick word first."
Emma feels a confused frown take over her features.
"I heard what you said to Hook," he clarifies, and Emma doesn't know whether she's more offended that he'd been listening or ashamed that her father bore witness to her thoughtless barb.
"Oh…I uh- "
"I know you're frustrated and that it's not my place or my business," David says, "but I hope you aren't planning on leaving things in this state."
"State?"
"With Hook," David sighs, humoring her feigned ignorance. "I saw his face when he left. I think you need to talk to him again, apologize for- "
"I know what for!" Emma bites out. David just nods. "But why does it matter to you if I fix things with Hook?"
"Because I don't think he's a bad guy," David shrugs. "And I think there's a lot more going on in that pirate's head and heart than we've let ourselves realize."
Emma knows that David's right, and she'd already known Hook deserved an apology. After everything he's done to help her, encourage her, support her…of everyone in their ragtag group, Hook has been the only one she could turn to during this venture—the only one she could trust with her insecurities, knowing he wouldn't judge her for them.
Oh God. And she had just turned around and thrown all that trust back in his face, like it had meant absolutely nothing to have him there. Had lied about him understanding her because he did understand her, so thoroughly that she was both terrified and awed by it. And now she'd taken the most painful memory of his at her disposal and run him straight through.
Emma chuckles bitterly. "I screwed up."
David smiles in commiseration, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Yeah. But I think we've all screwed up since getting here. And while words hurt, the damage doesn't have to be permanent."
Emma smiles at the man who is trying so hard to be her father without overwhelming her. She gives David a quick, grateful hug. Maybe Hook isn't the only one who understands.
—
Hook very carefully does not look up when Emma walks back into camp with her father.
He feels her eyes immediately settling on him, a feeling that still sends little shivers down his spine. He focuses harder on the crackling flames in front of him, keeping his expression carefully blank.
He will not allow her to see how deeply her words cut him, how they'd triggered an avalanche of memories and feelings and issues that he prefers to keep locked up tight.
Hook is so focused on remaining indifferent that he nearly leaps in surprise when her hand lightly touches his shoulder.
"Hook, could I talk to you for a moment?"
He wants to say no, wants to pretend that they can just carry on as usual. But he had pretty much blown that option all to hell when he'd closed up and left her in the jungle alone.
"Hook?"
Neal and Snow are starting to give him curious glances, wondering at his sudden lack of response to Emma. Bloody hell.
He stands calmly, unwilling to make any more of a scene, and strides back into the jungle (this was becoming quite the habit). He trusts Emma will follow.
When they are far enough away to have some privacy he turns to her and waits. He doesn't know if she expected him to initiate this, whatever this is, but he is not going to make this easy for her.
"I - I uh.."
He bites back the comment about her earlier candidness that comes to mind, and drawls, "What?"
Emma looks a bit taken aback by his tone but it seems to give her the impetus she needs to speak. "I'm sorry."
It's not what he was expecting her to say, and for a moment his mask of indifference drops. The sincerity in her voice throws him, even though he knows that what she said earlier was brought about by the stress and emotional toll this island is taking on her. Hook's positive she can see every bit of confusion and hurt in his gaze before he's swiftly boarding it all back up again.
"I'm sorry for what I said to you earlier," she continues. "You've done nothing to deserve that. I know that…that losing Milah tore you apart."
"You're quite right on that count, Swan," he responds, and he can't help the bit of bitterness that seeps into his voice. "But make no mistake, lass. You're not the only one who's felt the pain of abandonment in their life."
She looks at him, green eyes slightly wide with repressed curiosity. She wants to know what he means despite herself, wants to know just what this new commonality could be.
And he could tell her how his father left he and Liam to fend for themselves on the streets, tell her how Liam struggled day after day to keep them from starving, kept his confused and hurt little brother from experiencing the worst of people when begging for scraps or for a night out of the rain in a stable was met with derisive dismissal. How he and Liam persevered to become proud members of the Royal Navy, only to be betrayed by the king they'd thought honorable. How that betrayal had cost him his brother and his belief in others.
He could tell Emma about Milah, about her adventurous spirit and the way she had captured his heart the longer she stayed on the Jolly Roger. The way she had taught him to love again and trust in someone else. He could describe to her down to the last agonizing detail, the way he'd felt so completely impotent as the Crocodile ripped that light from his life with one clenched fist. How untold years later, he came across the son of the woman he'd loved with all his heart. How his thirst for revenge had nearly been quenched by his desire to watch and help Bae grow, to be a family no matter how small or broken. How even that was thrown in his face when Baelfire turned his back on him and threw all hints of kindness back in his face.
He could tell her exactly how it had wounded him when she abandoned him not once, but twice (thrice if he counted leaving him unconscious at Lake Nostos) in the short time they'd known each other.
Hook could tell her any or all of this and he knows that Emma, his beautiful broken kind-hearted Emma, would look at him with genuine sympathy and even a newfound respect.
But he doesn't.
Instead, all he says to her in acknowledgment and acceptance of her apology is, "Remind me, love, to tell you the story sometime of how Killian Jones became such a fearsome dashing pirate captain."
She smiles faintly, and for now, that relieved and amused little tilt to her lips is enough.
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