Emma's elbows sat firmly along the railing of the Jolly Roger, taking in everything that happened in the last 24 hours. How could everything have managed to fall into a downward spiral so fast? Things had actually started looking up for an ever so brief moment. They had stopped the diamond from destroying the town, Storybrooke was safe, and everyone suddenly was civil with one another. But as quickly as the hope ignited, it was put out as she watched in horror as Henry was taken through the portal. To Neverland, of all places. With Hook's sudden change in character she became hopeful; maybe they would find Henry. But as she took in the vast island that was Neverland, her faith began to dwindle. This was going to be down right near impossible.

Her worries snapped away as boots pattered against the deck, catching her attention and surprising her as well. Night had fallen over them, blanketing the ship in darkness, and she had assumed everyone was asleep. Although, she should have figured he wouldn't be.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he questioned while moving to stand beside her, mirroring her stance with his arms slinging over the railing.

"Nope. My thoughts wouldn't let me."

They stood in silence then, for a few moments, before Emma finally lifted her gaze to Hook. Her breath momentarily caught in her throat as she saw the way he was staring at her. His eyes never once looked away; he was reading her, silently finding a way to get under her skin but infuriating her at the same time. She quickly looked away, cursing the way her eyes fluttered and her cheeks blushed red, her state of fluster showing physically on her face.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you or do you want me to guess?" he questioned with the raise of his brow, prodding her to answer him. She stayed silent, not wanting to give him the benefit of wrangling it out of her, but at the same time she didn't want to prove to him that she was like an open book around him. "It's your lad, is it not?"

Emma let out a heavy sigh, chastising herself, before dancing back up at him. "Yeah, it is. I… I'm worried about him is all. And I'm scared we're going to be too late… I can't lose him." She knew her voice was cracking but there wasn't any point in trying to conceal it. Not around him. "After everything he's done for me… I… I can't…"

"You can't let him grow up abandoned like you were?"

There it was. Him reading her so easily, just like he had on the beanstalk. They share the same look in their eyes, the look you get when you've been left alone. Emma sighed deeply and locked her eyes with his, seeing a look of concern lacing his face. "Yeah… my parents had to send me to my world, alone, to escape the curse. So, I grew up in the foster care system. Basically I traveled from home to home, leaving when the family wouldn't want me anymore. It was awful and that feeling I had every time I would get the news I was leaving was sometimes too hard to deal with. I never actually had a family or someone to lean on and until recently, I thought that my actual parents didn't give a shit about me. Thinking of Henry having to live a life like that, without a family is just… I just can't let him go through that." When she eyed Hook carefully she noticed how he had broken his stare away from her; it now fell out towards the sea. He looked lost, with a certain hopelessness enveloping his face, and a strained feeling pulled in her gut. Maybe this was a lost cause.

"My father abandoned me as a child," he suddenly spoke, his voice so low it was nearly inaudible.

She couldn't stop her eyes from widening as what he said sunk in. While there was a mutual understanding between them, she really hadn't known anything of his past. But while her curiosity spiked she could see the hurt across his face; the lonely look she knew all too well.

"Hook… you don't have to talk about it," she said warily, reaching out to grab his shoulder as a comforting reflex.

"Aye, that I do." He began fiddling with his hook, refusing to look at her and see that look of understanding she was undoubtedly giving him. "Turns out my good-for-nothing scallywag of a father was a wanted fugitive. So, one night after we boarded a ship together, he left. Not a single goodbye, or even an explanation. Imagine my surprise when I awoke the next morning alone." Finally his eyes met hers and a remorseful smile tugged lightly on her lips. On the beanstalk, he didn't realize she was abandoned because he had seen the look she shared with the Lost Boys; it was because she shared the look with him.

Suddenly it hit her; a twinge of guilt she wasn't expecting to feel this violently. He went through the same life she had; he knew the pain of feeling like you had no one and, even worse, knew the pain of thinking you had someone, just to have them leave you with nothing. There was a mutual bond that connected them because of this, but the guilt stemmed from everything that happened in their last minutes together on the beanstalk. She hadn't understood his somewhat irrational anger, placing its reasoning on just simply her taking the compass, but clearly there was a larger underlying reason. She had hurt him more than she initially realized.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, to which he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why, lass? It's not your fault my father was an irresponsible git."

Emma vigorously shook her head and instinctively reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together, ignoring the look of confusion he was giving her. "Not that. I'm sorry for leaving you on the beanstalk. For doing exactly what your father did and for doing the one thing I have hated and had issues with my entire life. Had I known, I wouldn't have done it. I should have trusted you." Her eyes filled with tears against her will, remorse encasing her face as she tightened her grip around his hand. "I'm so sorry."

Hook's eyes shifted from their tangled fingers to her apologizing eyes, and back again, sending her a tight lipped smile. "It's alright Emma. It's in the past. Let's not dwell on it, shall we?" She nodded, her heart fluttering at the use of her name. She had become so used to the pet names that when he referred to her by her name, it tended to catch her off guard. "I guess we really do understand each other, aye?"

She couldn't help the laugh that slipped through her lips, softly shivering at the feel of his thumb lightly caressing the top of her hand. "I guess we do." Her eyes searched his, getting lost in their blue depths, finding comfort in the way he admirably watched her. "How… how come you told me that?"

"Because, darling, if we're going to find Henry I need you to trust me. I need you to know that I won't stop until your lad is back in your arms because I know the feeling of being alone and having no one, and I've known it for a long time. He shouldn't have to go through that, and if I have any say in it he won't."

Her lips quivered as he spoke and she felt her tough façade failing quickly; it wasn't just what he was saying, but how he was. His tone was soft and compassionate; hinting at his understanding and showing in the way he comfortingly was gripping her hand. She had been so hesitant to believe him, to trust him and take that sliver of a chance but he continually surprised her with his actions. He came back for her, he brought her and her family to Neverland, and he was just as hell-bent on getting Henry back as she was. She couldn't even begin to express her gratitude in words if she had tried.

She bit the inside of her lip as he gently kissed the back of her hand while continuing to hold her stare. "We're going to find him, Emma. I swear it to you."

All she could find to do was give him an appreciative smile and muttered a quiet thank you, allowing them to once again be engulfed in silence.

But a different kind of silence.

It was laced with understanding, full of comfort, and hinted with gratitude. They didn't need to talk. They both just knew.

A feeling began to sink that maybe, just maybe, the cards would fall in place and the wind would blow just right, and somehow they'd find themselves more willing to get closer in this way. And tonight was the spark of that, giving off a near physical shift in their dynamics and interactions. There was a new found respect for one another and with what he was promising with his words and solidifying with his actions she had no doubt, as terrified as it made her, that she would soon let down her emotional walls for him. Let him in and see her haunting past, let herself open up to him, and maybe, if everything pieced together just right, even let in love.

That leap of faith was waiting for her; all she needed was a little push.