In Her Corner

AN: This is for my lovely CSSS, Amanda aka Leiandcharles! I took this part of our conversation and turned it into a prompt:

"I also would've loved to have a scene of them talking just after they get back from Neverland with Emma confiding in him about her worries with Henry and him believing her and supporting her and letting her know she isn't alone."

It was the right thing to do, backing off, giving Emma space. However, just because it was the right thing to do, didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. It did. Just the idea of her with Baelfire sent a jolt of revulsion through him, but he owed it to her, he owed it to Baelfire, and mostly he owed it to Milah to let her son have his shot at happiness. She would have wanted that, since she hadn't been able to give it to him herself.

How and when had this blasted woman come to mean so much to him? How, after so many years, a century even, had he allowed another woman to enchant him so completely? He'd never thought it would happen again, had been sure of it. He'd been wrong.

It wasn't her sharp, blue-green eyes that reminded him of the waters of a particularly lovely lagoon he'd come across once on his travels, or her cascade of golden locks, or her winsome figure, or any of her fine features that had captivated him so completely. The problem was he didn't know what it was. Exactly.

He knew she was beautiful, but she was also possessed of a keen intellect, and she was resourceful, and spirited.

It wasn't any one thing; it was that as a whole, she was magnificent.

Bloody hell! He wanted nothing more than for her to be his. And to be hers in kind. In the current circumstances, that was not an option and he cursed the decision he'd made a week ago to turn his ship around and sail back to this godforsaken place. Had he kept going he wouldn't be in his predicament. He wouldn't have escorted her to Neverland, and he wouldn't have kissed her and, well, he wouldn't be on the docks of Storybrooke brooding over her right now.

Killian took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The air had grown cold as the sun slowly disappeared and the breeze held moisture from the sea. Moisture that in the cold air turned to icy pinpricks against his skin, but he didn't turn away.

He invited the pain; it gave him momentary reprieve since the effects of the beer he'd drank earlier at Granny's had worn off. He'd done the right thing. It left him feeling bereft and out of sorts, but that didn't mean it hadn't been the right thing to do. He'd just have to find a way to live with the 'right thing' and not spend the next century pining after a woman he couldn't, or rather shouldn't, have. He contemplated leaving Storybrooke. Setting sail, but making his departure permanent this time. No turning back.

It was a fleeting thought, though. He couldn't leave Emma. Or rather, he wouldn't leave Emma, even if she were with another man. She might need him, his ship, or his services. Besides he'd meant what he said to Neal earlier, he wasn't at all sure Emma would give his romantic rival another opportunity. However, it was the chance she would, that was making his gut feel as if a rather large cannon ball had taken up residence in it.

He needed to stop dwelling on it. He should get back to Granny's and find a distraction. With that decided, he turned to go. That's when he saw her.

For a moment, he wondered if she were a mirage. An image sent by his brain to torture his soul. He had just been thinking of her, it wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility for him to imagine her visage.

Emma hadn't seen him. She was walking, but without purpose. Once he decided she was not an image sent by his subconscious to torture him, his first thought was that he should honor his promise to Balefire. Leave, before she saw him, make himself scarce. She was staring ahead, but she didn't seem to be looking at anything, lost in thought perhaps. Something in his gut twisted, even at a glance he could tell all was not right with her.

He discarded that first thought, the one that told him to leave, as quickly as it had come. He watched her for a moment and became even more concerned. There was something in her bearing, the way she was holding herself; it was without her usual confidence. He knew with certainty something was wrong.

That made the decision for him, before he could change his mind he strode in her direction.

By the time he reached her, she'd stopped walking, and was looking at the sea. He found it heartening that she was drawn to it, just as he was.

When he was standing about five feet behind her, he finally spoke. "There's a mighty chill rolling in, it's a touch cold to be strolling on the docks."

At the sound of his voice, she whirled around to face him. "Hook." The name slipped from her lips, half in question, half in statement. She looked if she were going to say something, but changed her mind and instead she uttered, "It's not that cold." The mist her hot breath created in the cold air exposed her lie as she continued, "What are you doing here?"

He cocked his head sideways and then nodded at the next dock over to where the silhouette of the Jolly stood proud against the ever-darkening sky. "I live here."

"Oh, right," Then she crinkled up her nose in befuddlement. "Wait, I thought you were staying at Granny's?"

At that, Hook smiled widely at her. He hadn't told her that; hadn't had a chance to talk to her at all since they'd returned to Storybrooke. She must have heard that from someone else, which meant she had been talking about him. It was such a small thing, but it made his heart soar. "Checking up on me, love?"

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky response, as she always did, and then gave him her best sardonic glare.

He shot her a playful smile in return and shrugged as if to say, 'I am what I am.'

She turned back towards the water, but replied, "Granny mentioned it earlier, in passing."

His instinct had been right. There was definitely something bothering her. He could see it in the hunch of her shoulders, and the tight lines that formed around her mouth. Hook took several steps until he was standing to her side. "What brings you out tonight, love? I thought you'd still be at Granny's with Henry and your family..." he paused for a moment and then added softly, "and Neal."

Emma grimaced almost imperceptibly at the mention of her ex's name, but Hook saw it; her reaction gave him more hope than it probably should have.

"What is it?" Hook asked; his voice tinged with sincerity and kindness.

"What do you mean?" Emma turned so she was looking at him; pulled more by his tone, than by the question itself.

Hook took a step closer and searched her eyes. "Something is bothering you."

Emma shrugged and shifted her gaze down, no longer meeting his eye. "It's nothing," she murmured, but the worry lines that marred her expression said otherwise.

All he wanted was to kiss her forehead until the crinkles were soothed away. He would take away all her pain if he could. Since the moment he'd met her, all she'd wanted was to get back to her boy, she'd done it, he was safe, they were all safe, so why was she still pained?

"Stop," Emma said, pulling her gaze from the dock and back up to study his face.

"Stop, what?"

"You're staring at me like you're trying to read my mind."

"Why don't you spare me the effort? Come, Emma, clearly something has you distressed."

She took a deep breath and was about to demure, but then she thought better of it. Something in the tone of his voice made her want to confide in him. He'd proven himself steadfast during the last week on the island; they'd been together constantly then. It was odd, it had only been a day or two since they'd returned from Neverland, but in that time she found she... well, she missed him. Missed not being around him, missed not having someone in her corner. It was a surprising revelation. That is what he had been in Neverland, in her corner. Boy, did she feel like she needed someone in her corner right now. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was confide in him.

"Henry is acting... strange."

"How so?" Hook's question was a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"I don't know..." Emma shook her head and shrugged. "It's a lot of little things that might mean nothing. Maybe it's just a gut feeling I have. Earlier, he wasn't interested in his book, he loves that book, and then he wanted to spend the night with Regina instead of with me, it's... it's just a gut feeling I have."

Hook was silent for a beat, then opened his mouth to reply, but before he could she interrupted, "Look, I know what you're going to say, he's been through an ordeal, Regina is his mother too, it doesn't mean anything. He's an adolescent. Give him space."

"I wasn't going to say anything of the sort," Hook replied matter-of-factly.

"You weren't?" Emma cocked her head, studying him carefully. She wasn't sure what sort of response she hoped for from him. Part of her feared she was over reacting, but deep down she knew she wasn't, and that thought was even scarier.

"No."

"What were you going to say then?"

"I was going to say that there is not much I would trust more than your gut."

"Oh." That took her by surprise. She should probably stop being surprised when he said those sort of things to her. The frequency with which it happened, that he said something supportive or complimentary, should have rendered her used to it by now. She wasn't. She wasn't used to anyone having faith in her, except possibly Henry, and that didn't help much in the current circumstance.

"Really?"

"Aye. Swan, you're a perceptive woman. If you feel something is amiss, I wouldn't disregard it."

"You don't think I'm crazy, or jealous of Regina, or being overprotective?"

"No, I don't think you're any of those things." Hook's words were meant to be reassuring; however, they did not have the intended effect.

"So you think something is wrong?" Emma asked, her worry evident in every word she spoke.

"I don't know, Swan, but you're right, your boy has been through quite an ordeal-"

"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse," Emma interrupted.

With a small frown, Hook quickly replied, "My apologies, the last thing I want is to make you feel worse."

"No, I meant..." Emma paused. What did she mean? "I meant that I appreciate you, uh, not thinking I'm crazy, or jealous, or over protective, but I would obviously prefer to be those things, rather than there be something wrong with Henry."

Hook gave her a small smile. "That is quite understandable." He took a step towards her so they were only a foot apart, a jolt of energy shot through him at their nearness, as it always did. With great patience, he ignored the physical affect she had on him and focused on the issue at hand. "The lad has indeed been through quite an ordeal and the truth is Pan is evil and as far as I know there is much that's not known about Henry's time with him and the Lost Boys on Neverland."

Emma nodded thoughtfully. That was true, Henry hadn't been very forthcoming at all; it was one of the things that had her worried.

Hook took a deep breath before continuing, he was about to ask a question he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to, however, he would do anything to help Emma, even if it entailed a suggestion that she spend time with Baelfire. "Have you spoken to the boy's father?"

"Neal?" Emma was surprised, that was the last thing she expected him to ask.

"Aye," Hook replied softly.

Emma indicated she hadn't with a shake of her head.

"I see, perhaps you might consider it. Before Echo cave, he was in Pan's camp, maybe there is something he saw or heard that would shed light on Henry's behavior."

Emma looked thoughtful. Could Neal know something that would be helpful? That would mean she would have to talk to Neal, and she had been avoiding him. However, judging by the way he had cornered her earlier to ask her out, he hadn't really taken the hint. Perhaps that was it? Could Henry sense that she was avoiding his father? While Neal was clearly open to reuniting? She sighed deeply and then blurted, "The truth is, Henry's odd behavior might be about Neal."

Hook opened his mouth to respond, but then realized he didn't know what to say, so, instead, he quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.

"I think he would like us to get back together," she replied in explanation. She knew she was entering a danger zone, but there was part of her that wanted to gauge his reaction. Which was silly, she knew how he felt. He had declared his intentions to win her heart after all. Had that happened only days ago? Still there was part of her that wondered how serious he really was. Life had taught her not to trust anyone; she was particularly weary of handsome men who said all the right things, throw in him being a centuries old, notorious pirate, and all bets were off.

"Does he?" Hook tried to sound noncommittal. His pirate's desire to jockey for position was at war with his earlier decision to stand aside and allow them a chance to be a family without his interference.

Emma nodded her head in the affirmative. "It's natural, I suppose, but..."

"But?" Hook prodded when she'd trailed off into silence, hoping that she couldn't tell his pulse had picked up a few beats.

Emma's frown returned, this time more pronounced. "It would make Henry happy, and it would make my parents happy, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't make me happy."

"Oh," he replied quietly, hoping that his elation at her reticence wasn't writ clearly on his face.

"Maybe making them happy is enough; maybe I shouldn't be concerned with my own happiness." Emma felt her insides tighten at her own words as if her body were rejecting the notion.

Hook watched her, as he clenched and unclenched his fist. It took a concerted effort, but he tamped down the ire that bubbled just to the surface. How dare anyone make Emma feel like her own happiness wasn't important? Henry was just a boy, but he wondered if her parents knew the turmoil they had caused her?

"Swan..." The bit of fire in his tone got Emma's attention. He paused a beat, his eyes searching hers in the light of the moon, the intensity in them unmistakable. "Your happiness is everything."

Emma let out a pent up woosh of air she'd been holding. This man had a way of surprising her. No one had said anything like that to her and meant it. She might not know a lot about trust or relationships, but she knew in that moment that he was sincere.

He continued, feeling his words passionately, but maintaining control. "Forgoing your own happiness, won't make your family happy, it will only lead to misery for all involved."

As Emma let that sink in, they stood there silently in the cool night air, Emma's gaze flicked from his eyes, down to his lips and back again. She licked her own lips and felt herself sway towards him as a flutter began deep in her chest. It would be so natural to keep going until she was melting into him, his arms circling her, steady and warm, and her lips meeting his, tender and hot.

Emma felt a shiver and wasn't sure if it was from the sea breeze or from the realization that she was sharing what felt like a very intimate moment with Hook. What was she doing? Henry was acting weird; her parents were pressuring her to be with Neal. Now was not the time for this, whatever this was. Emma shook her head as if to clear it and took one-step back, trying to break the tension that seemed to bind them a moment earlier.

Hook's heart was racing; he focused on controlling his breathing. It had taken everything he had not to take her in his arms and kiss her. Blast the affect this woman had on him.

Emma swallowed roughly and then breaking the last of the spell stuttered, "Um... I guess... uh... either way, you're right. I should talk to Neal. About Henry, I mean. He might know something."

The desire to object vehemently to her talking to Neal overwhelmed him, but he tamped it down. It was highly irrational to begin with since he suggested it in the first place. He also took the opportunity to remind himself that he was supposed to be giving them a chance. So instead, he swallowed roughly and then asked a bit hoarsely, "Is there something I can do?"

"Actually..." Emma rewarded him with a small smile. "I think you've done it." Truth was she felt lighter after talking to him. That feeling from Neverland had returned; that feeling of having someone on her side, someone in her corner.

Hook returned her smile and felt his heart swell. He didn't know exactly what he had done, but it appeared as if he'd helped. However, even though he was gratified by her words, it wasn't enough. He'd do anything for her, and find a way to help he would. "Perhaps there is another way I could be of service. Tomorrow morning I'll seek out the refugees from Neverland, have a chat with some of the Lost Boys, see if there is anything I can glean that would shed light on what might be going on with Henry. They're a tight lot, but we need only one to break their silence; perhaps I can... encourage them to be forthcoming."

"Whoa, what do you mean by 'encourage?'" Emma asked, a sense of foreboding flooding her. "Not violence?"

Hook gave her a knowing wink, then relented by saying, "Not to worry, Swan, I was thinking more along the lines of bribery. There's not much in the way of sweets on Neverland. Maybe a visit to Any Given Sundae would loosen their tongues."

Relieved, Emma let out a soft, humorous snort at the image of the fearsome Captain Hook bribing Lost Boys for information with ice cream. "You would do that?"

"Of course."

"That would be good," Emma smiled, realizing that she felt better than she had all day. There was a plan. She would talk to Neal... about Henry. If it turned out Henry was upset about her lack of relationship with his father, that could be dealt with, but if it were something more, maybe he would remember something helpful. Hook would talk to the Lost Boys. It was a load off her mind to have an actual plan. And to not feel crazy.

Satisfied that she seemed less worried, the crease in her brow now gone, Hook gestured inland. "Now, I've seen you shiver several times, you must be quite cold. May I escort you back to town?"

"That's okay. I'll be fine." Emma's natural instinct was usually to refuse any offer, this time she also wanted to cover the fact that her shivers might be more from her proximity to him and less from the dropping temperature.

"I know you'll be fine, however we're headed the same direction." Hook reminded her, "I'm currently a guest at Granny's."

Right. Emma knew that. "Okay, then, fine, let's go."

He bowed slightly and gestured for her to lead the way. As she turned to go, he fell into step with her feeling better about things than he had since they returned from Neverland. He would still back off, but that just meant he would leave things up to her, and be there when she needed him. He felt good about that. Very good, indeed.

They walked, side-by-side, in companionable silence for several blocks. When they hit Main Street, Emma glanced over at Hook, marveling at how comfortable it felt. He felt her movement, turned, and smiled at her; an easy, companionable smile that demanded nothing in return and that's when it hit her.

She wasn't alone. She had a friend. She had an ally. She had Hook. It was a novel feeling for her, but she found she liked it. She liked it an awful lot.

The End.