She sighed as she let her legs fall slowly to the ground. Her limbs were sore and heavy from another full day of searching, only to be no closer to finding Hook. Around her lay many scattered fallen trees - knocked over during their last battle against the Wicked Witch and her army of demon-like winged monkeys. While David restocked the campfire that lit the dark night, Emma pulled her knife from the pocket of her jeans and slowly, carefully, she carved another gash into the bark of the one closest to her. A single vertical line, beside two groups of five tally marks. days since the last time the Wicked Witch had shown her face. Eleven days since she'd hurled an electric ball of icy blue magic at Emma. Eleven days since Hook had thrown himself in it's path and fallen to the ground. Eleven days since the Witch had disappeared cackling into a swirling, tornado-shaped cloud of green smoke, taking Hook's unconscious form with her.
A few feet away, David and Mary Margaret exchanged worried glances. Emma had been noticing these glances, which grew to occur more and more often as the days went by, but she didn't speak to them and instead returned the knife to her pocket. She ran her fingers across the grooves she'd cut into the bark. Mary Margaret took a seat on the soft grass next to her daughter. Emma quickly turned her head and blinked quickly to clear the tears of frustration and exhaustion from her eyes.
"I'm fine." Emma said sharply, before her mother could say anything. Mary Margaret bit the inside of her cheek, but said nothing, just sat there in silence. A moment later, Emma let out the breath she'd been holding, and the words rushed out. "It's my fault. It's my fault, and now someone else is hurt, or… or worse, he could be…" She didn't want to finish her sentence. "And it's my own damn fault!" Her eyes were watering again, and she didn't even bother to wipe away the tears from her cheeks.
"Oh Emma. It's not your fault. He was protecting you, it's not like you threw him to her."
"I might as well have." Emma mumbled.
"You can't think like that. You need to hold onto hope. You'll find him, and we'll defeat that… that…" Mary Margaret searched for the best description for the Witch. "…ugly green bitch."
It was so unusual for any insult, much less a curse to pass through Mary Margaret's lips, and Emma couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't much, but it was the closest thing to cheering up she'd been able to do lately.
"Now, come on. You need to sleep." She slipped into a stern, very mother-like voice as she stood and returned to her husband. Emma leaned back against the log. Not that it meant much, she's barely gotten minutes of sleep in weeks, and she knew that this night would be no different. But she as she closed her eyes anyway, listening to the wind whisper through the trees, and she made a silent promise to Hook, wherever he was, whatever was happening, that she would find him.

—-

A few hours passed. As expected, no sleep had come. The ground was uncomfortable and Emma decided that she couldn't lay there in such pain any longer. She had to get up. She looked over to where the rest of the party lay sleeping, slipped her sword into the scabbard she kept strapped around her, and tiptoed off to take a walk. She hadn't been paying attention to where or how far she'd wandered until the sound of leaves crunching and twigs breaking broke the silence. Startled, she drew the sword from it's place on her back (Thank God she'd remembered to bring it!) and held it in front of her as she faced the direction from which the sound had come.
"Who's there?"
Silence.
"I heard you. Show yourself." she said, more sternly this time.
More silence answered her. As she was about to step closer, a shadowy figure stepped out from behind a tree. Emma gasped.
"Hook?" She lowered her sword.
The moonlight illuminated his face and Emma could see the bruises that surrounded his eyes and the scratches that covered his face. Tears fell from his swollen eyes and mixed with the blood on his face. His dark hair was matted in places, stuck together with dried blood from the deepest cut on his forehead. His usually bright eyes were clouded with fatigue.
"What the hell happened to you? What did she do to you? Are you okay?" She exclaimed. She tried to rush forward towards him, but he held up his hand quickly to stop her.
"Don't. You… you can't come near me. Not yet. I have to tell you something."
Fear gripped at Emma's stomach. Something was very, very wrong.
"What's going on?"
Hook remained silent for a moment, only staring at her.
"I'm sorry, Emma. I'm so sorry." His voice was heavy and filled with sorrow. "I don't want to hurt you."
Emma's eyebrows furrowed and she stepped backwards, raising her sword again slightly.
"Tell me." She forced her hand to stop shaking. Hook blinked slowly and took a deep breath.
"You have to kill me."
Her eyes widened in shock.
"What? Why would I do that?"
"She… the Witch. She has my heart."
Emma stared blankly at him, trying to put together the pieces. Hook caught her gaze, then dropped his eyes to stare at the ground by her feet.
'I'm supposed to… She wants me to kill you, Emma. She's going to force me to do it."
Her mind was reeling. No, this had to be a bad dream. She had to wake up.
"Please Emma, I can't hurt you. Don't let me hurt you." He begged.
She thought back to the last time she'd been in this realm, when Cora had controlled Aurora by using her heart. And then she realized what was different. The Witch was letting him warn her. If she simply wanted the pirate to kill Emma, why would she let him warn her? Why not make him walk into camp where he had everyone's trust (for the most part) and kill her when she wasn't expecting it? And after all, even if Emma were dead, there were still hundreds of people who could defeat the Witch. And that's when Emma realized it.
"No." She said, slipping her sword back into it's scabbard.
"What are you doing?! Don't!" Hook took a few steps back.
"Don't you see? It's a trick!"
"I don't understand."
She motioned for him to come closer, but he refused.
"She's probably listening in right now. She could've stopped you from warning me, but she didn't. She wanted you to tell me." Emma explained. "She knows that we're going to to want to get your heart back, which will lead all of us straight to her, probably right into the perfect place for an army of a thousand monkeys to rip us apart. And seeing as she hasn't killed you yet…" She took a few cautious steps toward the pirate. This time, he let her approach, though his eyes still showed that he was wary. "She's perfectly fine with me knowing her plan. She doesn't think we can stop her, even if we know we're walking directly into an ambush." '
"Then you have to stay away from her!" He insisted.
"Not happening, Hook. It was my fault this happened in the first place, and I need to make sure it's fixed."
"What are you planning to do, just march in there, just as she wants you to?"
A confident light twinkled in Emma's eyes.
"Exactly."
"David will never agree to this." He countered.
"It doesn't matter. I'll convince him." She placed a hand on his chest, where a heartbeat should've been felt, but there was a strange, rather eerie absence of it. Yet, he was still just as alive as ever.
I'll never understand magic. She thought to her herself. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized how dangerously close her fingers were to the bare skin of his chest.
"Hey, Your Wickedness. You hear that? You aren't going to beat us. You can melt into oblivion for all I care." She kept her hand where it was as she looked up at Hook. His breathing became unsteady. His nervousness was obvious, and Emma suppressed a small smile at how utterly cute it seemed.
"I can't let anything happen to you, Emma." He whispered. "I couldn't live with myself."
She gave him a small smile as she pressed her lips to his cheek. The stubble on his face was rough against her already chapped lips, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around his neck to reassure him that she trusted him, that she wasn't going to leave him essentially imprisoned by the Witch. Like he did back in New York, (Damn, that seemed like ages ago) Hook wrapped one arm around her back and gently cradled her head with his hand as he let himself relax and bury his face his her hair. It had been so long since the last time they'd held each other, and though danger was ever present and surrounding them, Emma let herself enjoy the comfort of that moment.
"Good thing we're going to win, then." She whispered back.