Oz is a strange place. The colors are too bright and the air is thick with a sweetness that clogs her throat and makes it hard to breath. Each road has a different color that is associated with a different kind of horror (the trees along the green brick road are not just trees and she's pretty sure she's going to have nightmares that last a lifetime after that incident) so their little company keeps to the dirt paths – taking their chances trudging through the thick forests.
Not to mention she swears she keeps seeing munchkins.
"They don't exist, lass." He sighs and holds a branch back (ever the gentleman), allowing her to walk through before him. "Another one of your world's bizarre interpretations, I'm afraid."
"I swear to god, if we become prisoners of the lollipop guild – " She lets her sentence drift off in the purple twilight. He huffs in amusement behind her.
"I've no bloody clue what that means."
-/-
He's nursing his flask more than usual, keeping it close to his chest and gulping greedily every time she looks over. The thing has to be magic, because it's not even that big and he's already taken seven long pulls this afternoon. And while he might be a pirate, no one can handle that level of alcohol without keeling over entirely.
She pokes him in the shoulder as he walks in front of her, good arm bringing the flask to his lips – again. He tilts his head slightly, still gulping away, arching both eyebrows at her.
Her eyes dart from him to the flask and back again and he smiles slightly, pulling it from his lips with a wet pop and handing it over. She tips it back without hesitation, eyes widening when the familiar and unexpected taste hits her tongue.
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Coffee?"
He takes another small sip before tucking it deep inside his ridiculous coat. "Aye, coffee. What?" He leans in closer, invading her personal space, the smell of coffee mingling with sea and spice and him. His eyes glint with amusement and something else but he's too close and she can't think, can't even breathe –
"Did you think me self-medicating?"
She shakes her head slightly and playfully pushes him away, fingers finding bare skin (of course) and warm leather. He chuckles and together they turn and continue walking behind her parents.
"No." She supplies quietly. "I was just worried about you."
She pretends not to notice the way his entire body stiffens and then relaxes – like a rubber band stretched too tight.
-/-
He takes first watch with her father, the two of them disappearing into the woods to walk a perimeter. They laugh as they go, David reaching out to punch Hook good-naturedly in the arm and it strikes her as odd – this sudden friendship he's developed with her parents.
But sudden to her has been a year for them, she reminds herself, and along with the strangeness that comes along with watching Hook joke with her father and converse quietly with her mother, easy smiles and happy eyes – there's a warmth. It starts in her chest and folds out to the rest of her, tugging at her lips and pulling at her heart.
She falls asleep easily, the soft cadence of his lilting voice drifting over from the campfire.
-/-
She tilts her head as she regards him, wide yawn cracking her jaw as she stretches out her legs in front of the fire. He's close by (as he always seems to be), back turned towards the fire, coat draped over him like a blanket. His arm is stretched over his head and he shifts, nuzzling down further into the ground, black hair wild and sticking up in every direction.
But he's too tense, the rhythm of his breathing too forced, fingers twitching every so often. Mary Margaret joins her at the fire and Emma averts her gaze, focusing on her mother and the things she's missed in the past year. They talk of the Enchanted Forest, of how Henry is doing in school – (Emma grins wide when she tells her of the failed science project, fake lava exploding all over the kitchen, staining them both orange for days) – other trivial things. But it's comforting, having these moments again. Emma knows these memories will be real and it calms her turbulent mind.
Hook jolts suddenly on the other side of the fire, sitting up with a gasping breath. His wild eyes jump around before finally landing on her, chest heaving. He relaxes fractionally when she moves, meeting his gaze with a frown.
"Hook?"
He shakes his head and casts his eyes down, raising his hand in dismissal. "Apologies, m'ladies." He gives them both a shaky grin before standing up and stretching his arms above his head (and her eyes absolutely do not trail along the sliver of exposed skin at his waist), releasing with a sigh. "Oz is far from comforting."
She nods, but something pulls at her. He's not telling the truth, but he's not telling a lie either – his eyes not quite meeting hers over the dying flames of the fire.
"You're right." Mary Margaret says with a sigh, eyes dancing over the edge of the forest. David walks up with a yawn, sliding next to her on the log, arm wrapping around her shoulders. "Something's off."
-/-
She hears them before she sees them – the muted flap of their heavy wings, their gasping breaths interspersed with the scratching of their claws against the trees. Hook just manages to snatch the edge of her jacket and tug her into him when they make themselves known with a deafening screech - diving down low and scattering their group.
Hook bodily turns her away from him, blue eyes fierce as he pushes her towards the clearing.
"Run." He says and she doesn't even think – just takes off through the underbrush, him hot on her heels. She can hear him behind her, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he ducks and weaves around the fleet of monkeys.
It's comforting – oddly enough.
She has one foot in the clearing when she's hit - a monkey blindsiding her from the left. They tumble to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs, its wings folding around her and its talons digging in to the skin of her thigh. She cries out in a wheezing sort of shriek as white-hot pain lances through her, desperately trying to catch her breath. The monkey looks just as stunned as her – shaking its head in bewilderment before its dark eyes focus in on her face. She shifts back slightly and its claws flex, digging in deeper.
She can see Hook from the corner of her eye as he's taken down in a blur of brown fur and black leather. There's a flash of silver and then a loud keening, the monkey on top of him slumping down. He flips it off of him, blue eyes frantic as he looks to her. The monkey on top of her gnashes his teeth, pulling her attention abruptly back.
She pushes against its chest with both hands, closing her eyes and focusing on the pain. It thrums through her in hot and heavy strokes, magic slowly weaving within her – climbing, building. She listens to the panicked shouts of her father, the screams of her mother, the desperate pleas of Hook. She focuses on his face, the line of his jaw, those blue eyes.
Her magic pushes out in a strong wave, the monkey on top of her hurled back with the power of it. She blinks her eyes open as her magic continues to build, humming through her and out, surrounding the clearing in a hazy sort of light. The monkeys (there must be at least fifteen of them) shriek and shout in unison, clawed hands closing over their ears before taking off, legs pushing away from the ground, disappearing back into the forest.
She lets her head drop back to the ground with a weary sigh as her magic pulls back. Warm fingers dance along her cheek and she leans into the touch, blinking up at Hook. His face is pulled tight, lips tilted in a heavy frown. His thumb slides along the hollow of her eye.
His eyes look at the ragged wound on her thigh and breathes a shaky sigh. "Gods, Emma – "
"Shhh." She tries to brush him away but his grip is firm on the side of her face and his eyes are desperate, so she lets him linger. The blood loss is making her dizzy, white spots appearing at the edges of her vision. "I can heal it, just give me a second."
She feels the skin of her leg slowly closing back together and she sighs in relief, a dull ache replacing the fierce burn. She sighs and stares up at him, giving him a half-hearted smirk.
"Told you so."
He doesn't look amused.
-/-
He jolts awake suddenly, entire body going rigid, hand clenching so hard in his dark hair his knuckles strain white. She watches from the corner of her eye as he turns to lie flat on his back, eyes seeking her out.
His gaze burns through her as she pokes idly at the fire.
-/-
His movements are sluggish and tense, hand not even bothering to tuck the flask back in his coat. He sips every couple steps, not even noticing when she slants her eyes curiously at him.
They decide to stop when he trips for the third time – although David makes up an excuse about needing to plan out strategy. She can tell by the slump of Hook's shoulders that he's not fooled, but he doesn't complain as he falls back against a tree.
There are dark circles under his eyes, the black and purple making his eyes seem even bluer. She steps closer to him, watching as he gulps from the flask, adam's apple bobbing with the movement.
"What's going on with you?" She makes sure to keep her voice low, her parents setting about making camp, giving them some privacy against the tree.
"What do you mean, love?" But his voice is weary and his eyes are knowing as he looks back at the flask.
"You know what I mean." He doesn't answer, instead choosing to stare at the small leather flask with intense curiosity (which is ridiculous because he's had the damn thing nearly 300 years and there's nothing truly exceptional about it – other than its ability to magically refill itself). "You're not sleeping, are you?"
He shrugs noncommittally. She sighs.
"Hook –"
"You don't want to hear about it, Emma."
She frowns at that, tilting her head as he looks at her with sad eyes. "Why do you think I'm asking?"
He looks at her steady and then shakes his head, back to looking at the ground. Stupid, stubborn, impossible pirate.
"Hook – "
"I'm always losing you." He cuts her off again with a broken whisper. His eyes jump up to hers and the pain makes her breath hitch. "Every night, like bloody clockwork, I dream of losing you."
Her entire body tenses as he gazes at her, chest tightening, breathing labored. Panic surges deep within her as his words loop around her head and it's too much, he feels too much. A self-deprecating smile twists his lips and his eyes shutter – walls coming down hard. It's been so long since she's seen Hook that another wave of panic crashes over the first.
He pushes past her, whispering told you so into her ear as he goes.
-/-
She waits until he manages to fall asleep, his erratic breathing soothing momentarily into something rhythmic and deep. She switched watch with David and he had merely nodded – eyes following Hook as he trudged miserably around the camp.
She didn't know whether to be alarmed or grateful for her father's knowing look.
She steps over him carefully, lying on her side facing him. His face is drawn tight, eyebrows furrowed on his forehead. The circles remain and she fights back the urge to run her thumb along them, soothing away his fears.
But she doesn't. Instead she waits, watching his face carefully as his nightmare hits. Something deep in her chest breaks when he whimpers under his breath, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling tight. Her name is whispered under his breath and she breaks further – wondering how it took her so long to realize.
She slides her fingers along his neck and his entire body jolts, eyes flaring open with a deep inhale through his nose. He blinks in bewilderment, taking in her close proximity, her fingers on his skin.
"Emma?"
His eyes search hers – desperate and needy. She unclenches his fingers from his hair, one by one, lacing her fingers through his, ignoring the panic that flares lightly at the intimacy of such an action. She rests their hands between them.
"Go back to sleep. I'll be right here."
His eyes search hers for a few tense seconds and then he relaxes, hand flexing beneath hers. He closes his eyes and shifts slightly, the toe of his boot making contact with her shin. She's glad his eyes are closed when she shivers.
-/-
(She wakes to fingers twisting through her hair, nose buried in his neck. He smells like coffee and the sea and she doesn't fight it when his hooked arm slings over her waist, tugging her closer into him.)