Many, many years had gone by since Killian Jones received a gift out of kindness rather than necessity. He couldn't even remember what it might have been it had been so long. That the gift in front of him was from Baelfire—Neal—put it in a unique category to be sure. He didn't know what the occasion was nor how to respond to the gesture—he and Neal hadn't really talked much since Storybrooke, and while they were amicable enough, their relationship was one of the more complicated he had ever had and he was still flummoxed regularly as to how to approach it. They could work together when need be, which was often these days, but there was always an uneasiness that they both ignored in favor of keeping peace. But today, Hook would be lying if he wasn't bloody curious what was in the black velvet bag being proffered to him.
When they first materialized from Storybrooke, saddened, scared and, in some cases, thoroughly confused, many followed the Queen and Snow to the castle only to find it otherwise occupied and...inhospitable, even without the flying monkeys guarding the outlying area. Neal had offered the Dark One's estate as a place of refuge until the situation could be assessed and a plan put in place to retake Regina's home, and while not ideal for anyone, it was the only solution that made sense.
Regardless of where the others decided to co-habitate, Hook had no intention of sticking around longer than he had to. He knew in her current cursed state Emma wouldn't need him, but he certainly needed Emma. There had to be a way back to her, curse be damned. It was just a matter of sussing out the particulars and finding the right loopholes to expose. He was no stranger to finding and exploiting opportunities, he just needed to figure out the proper direction. With Regina's castle and whatever magic items she may have had there lost to them at the moment, Rumplestiltskin's home was the next best thing, and if providence favored him at all, everything would be back in its pre-cursed state and there would be something useful to help guide him back to Emma and Henry.
The castle was in disarray between what had been left behind and ransacked and what showed back up again upon their return. It had taken several days just to restore any kind of order and make space for those who needed it, which was the first priority. In that time, Hook hadn't even had the chance to broach the topic of help with Regina so preoccupied was she with out-scheming the new witch claiming her castle and her magic stores. He was restless and eager to put all this behind him and set out on his quest. "On edge" didn't begin to describe Hook in those days, and his interactions with everyone as he stalked throughout the property—looking for clues, answers, anything—ranged from biting sarcasm to a calculating politeness (that frankly scared them more than the sharp end of his hook) and very little in between.
So when Neal handed Hook the heavy, black bag, with a sunny, "Here!" he was at a loss for words. "This is for you," Neal said. "You know, to help get through this whole...mess."
Hook tested its heft with a quick jerk on the bag's strings and Neal shook his head smiling. "Hey, man, careful. You don't wanna drop it. Can't run out for a new one."
"Right. Thanks, mate." Hook pressed his lips together, eyebrows knit, and set the bag on the large table in the main room, then pushed the soft, dark cloth down around the object to reveal a crystal ball.
Hook was about to make a snide remark about not pursuing a second career as a fortune teller even if the Jolly Roger was permanently out of commission, but as soon as his fingers brushed the glass, it came to life. His words froze in his throat as a maelstrom of purple clouds appeared in the ball then quickly dissolved into the smiling face of Emma Swan right before his eyes.
"Swan," Hook whispered, his finger ghosting down the curve of the glass as if he could feel Emma's cheek under it. His heart, his brain, and his breath halted as he tried to understand how it was possible he could be so fortunate as to see her outside his dreams so soon after they parted ways.
Neal smiled sadly to himself, but clapped Hook on the shoulder. "I had to concentrate pretty hard to find her and Henry in that thing. You barely touched it and it lights up. Obviously you don't ever stop thinking about her."
"I promised," was all Hook could offer, distracted as he gently picked up the ball that for all its density felt lighter than an unexpected yet welcome breeze on a hot, windless day stuck at sea. His heart skipped a beat at seeing her there, playing and laughing with Henry in the midst of a large park, radiant in her carefree joy at being with her son. The sudden surge of adrenalin at the thought of being there with her, being part of that happiness drowned out all sound for the few moments it took him to remember to breathe again.
Neal's voice pulled him back to reality and reminded him painfully of just how huge chasm was between that happy little family in the sphere and where he was—stuck in the Enchanted Forest. Neal gestured toward the crystal. "They are in New York City. That's Central Park. Not exactly sure why she's not back in Boston, but at least now you know where to look. I'm guessing that you are going to go find her again, right?"
Hook nodded slowly as ideas began crashing through his brain like animals from a forest when a fire begins to rage behind them. First one or two random thoughts...New York City...where he had stabbed the Crocodile. Where Tamara trussed him up to return to Storybrooke. Then more thoughts and questions and half answers tumbled to the front of his brain, each vying for his attention. How was he going to get back there and how the bloody hell was he going to make Emma remember who she was, who he was? How long would it take, how many realms would he have to travel through first? Maybe Anton had another bean somewhere or he could prevail upon Ariel to help him traverse the realms or maybe he would just will it to be damn it all... Hook took a deep breath and tried to quiet down his mind. Where some people might have crumbled at the enormity of the task at hand, Hook felt practically gleeful and renewed in his purpose. As more dots began presenting themselves, the more excited he became at the thought of connecting them like the constellations he navigated his ship by. He would find—or make if he had to—the map that would lead him to his treasure, his Swan. Of that he had no doubt anymore.
"Hmm?...Aye. That has been my plan from the start. Thank you, Bae." He said with a genuine smile for the man. "I won't forget this."
Neal laughed. "Oh, don't worry, man. I won't let you."