Heart is the Home
After losing all his memories, Emma helps Killian Jones put together the pieces of his checkered past as Captain Hook. However, the struggle to find himself results in the former pirate leaving Storybrooke behind for the open sea.
I
Henry had given up his bedroom so Killian had a place to recover but Emma wondered if the pirate would ever rejoin the land of the living. He slept through most of the day and night, taking intermittent breaks to wash, eat or stretch his tired, aching body. He barely spoke, often moved quietly and unhindered through the loft, as if not to disturb them, sometimes giving Emma and Henry a gentle nod—a small gesture for their kindness. Exhaustion would then overtake him like a fatal illness, fueling the need to sleep more. Emma blamed the sedatives Dr. Whale had prescribed her to give him for his listless demeanor.
But perhaps it was 300 years of plundering and pillaging as a pirate and now a chance to stop and retreat. Emma could see the allure such an opportunity afforded—to do nothing. She imagined how revenge itself could suck the marrow right out of Killian's bones after so long.
She looked over at him now, sleeping on his back in Henry's bed, his face catching the light breaking through the four-paned window on the far side of the room. His chest heaved up and down with a slow, deliberate heaviness, every breath expelled, jagged and long, caught the air and faded away. In his sleep, she wondered if he dreamed. What images, memories or thoughts flashed through his mind? Did he recall anything?
Life had to resume but Emma also had to be patient—to wait until he was ready. There would be a slew of questions, demons to face regarding his past, about the man he was and the life he had led as a pirate. Emma would be the one to go there with him. But she didn't have a plan and knew how hard it was to convince someone of the truth when they didn't want to see it. Henry and August had shown her that—turned her from the most obstinate non-believer into a believer. And now she would have to do the same with Killian.
II
Emma knocked on the door of Archie's office. "Archie its Emma. I need to talk to you." Archie, gently opened the door and invited Emma to sit down. She took a seat on the oversized, wingback sofa reserved for patients.
"How can I help you Emma?" he asked her, his eyes revealing genuine concern from behind his too small spectacles. He was a meek and soft-spoken man, had a natural way of easing your worries. In a town with so many larger-than-life personalities, Archie was the calm before the storm. Everyone seemed to take refuge in his advice.
"It's Hook…or Killian as I have been calling him. I suppose you heard. Rumple erased his memories with a magic spell. I'm not sure what to tell him?"
Archie had heard about the memory switch spell…in fact the whole town had. People were talking about it, especially now that Belle and Rumple were out together again.
"What do I do? Reveal the truth about his past or let him figure it out?"
"I think since the curse has been broken and magic is here, you need to be truthful Emma," Archie explained. "If Hook is going to live in Storybrooke he needs to understand what kind of town it is. Part of that is understanding who he was and is."
"You're right, I'm just scared he won't believe any of it…that he's a 300-year old pirate whose crossed realms on a ship, realms only one could imagine in fairy tales," Emma snickered. Just the thought of it made it seem surreal even though it was all very real.
"Why not use Henry's enchanted fairy tale book to show him, just like Henry tried to show you," Archie offered. "See how he reacts."
Emma had completely forgotten about Henry's book. It was perfect—at least a place to start. "You're a genius Archie." She gave him a quick hug for appreciation and stormed out the door towards home. She had work to do.
III
Emma unlatched the front door to her loft, dropping her keys and purse on the table. She heard a ruffling coming from Henry's room. "Hook?" she called. Shit. She wasn't use to calling him Killian yet. "Who is Hook?" asked Killian, emerging wearily from Henry's room, his bare-chested, large frame exposed as he stood in the doorway, wrapped in her son's bed quilt.
Emma felt a warm spark shoot up in her groin and a throbbing pulse behind her temples. She had never seen this much of him before and did an once-over. His hair was tousled and messed up, as if he had just bed a woman. He hadn't shaved in days and the stubble on his face was rugged than normal, bringing out the blue of his eyes more intensely. But what Emma could not refrain from noticing was his upper body, the perfect slant of his broad shoulders and long sinewy, muscled arms, the way his torso tapered down to his waist in a perfect V-shape. Her eyes fell to his chiseled chest covered with a soft blanket of black hair and well-defined pectoral muscles obviously built up from captaining a pirate ship. Killian stood before her wild, disheveled, and raw. A sensual shiver rattled through her entire body and a hot flush broke out in her cheeks. He was definitely the handsomest man she had ever seen.
"Is something wrong Emma?" he asked, his voice staggered. He could tell she was out of sorts. Emma quickly snapped to when she heard him call her name. It was the most words he had spoken in days. "Huh…no not at all," she replied, feverish, now glancing in to his ice blue eyes. "How are you?" she added. Had he caught her giving him the up and down?
"I feel better now thanks. Who is Hook?" Killian repeated. Emma realized she had put her foot in her mouth. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with a reasonable explanation but she couldn't. "Look we need to talk," she said, her stomach twisted in knots.
"Sure…but first let me get dressed. Do you know where my clothes are?"
Emma had had Hook's leather pants, duster coat and vest cleaned but was sure he wouldn't be wearing them…at least not right away. The garbs would come across rather eccentric to a former pirate with no memory he had ever been a pirate. All his personal affects she had stored on the Jolly Roger for when he was ready, except for his hook. She had held on to that.
"I've got something you can change in to," Emma replied, going in to her room and pulling from a dresser, a pair of dark-washed jeans, a black sweater and leather jacket she had borrowed from David. She passed Killian the neatly folded pile of clothes.
"Thanks. I hope you don't mind if I take a shower first," Killian inquired. "Not at all. There are some toiletries in the cabinet above the sink. I picked up a few things for you…a shaver, cologne, deodorant…things you might need," she said, slightly embarrassed. The heat in her face was now spreading to other parts of her body. Things were getting more intimate than she was used to.
He slowly moved across the room toward her, pinning Henry's blanket with his one good hand at the waist so it wouldn't drop as he walked, until he stood directly in her path, their faces only inches apart. She could feel the warmth radiate off his body, the heaviness and heat of his breathe melt against her face and imagined his nakedness underneath the blanket. Her body tingled with wanting but she held it in, trying hard to mask her need for him. But what weakened her most, almost sent her over the edge was the blended scent of muskiness, sweat and salt air still clinging to his skin after so many days. She loved that scent—his scent. He looked at her now, his ice blue eyes holding her captive, as if she was about to drown in them.
"Emma thank you for all you've done…you and Henry. Even though I don't remember either of you, your hospitality has been most generous," he said, his tone soft and humble. Emma was pleasantly surprised by his graciousness; it was a side of him he had very seldom shown as Hook. Killian, the man in front of her now, was more refined, a gentleman.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you need," she replied, surprising herself at her own offer.
Killian half smiled at her before turning and heading towards the washroom. He appreciated everything the woman named Emma and her son had done for him, but wasn't comfortable with overstaying his welcome. After all, they were complete strangers to him and it would be best if he found somewhere else to stay. "I'm going to go take that shower and then we can talk."
IV
The coffee was perking when Killian emerged from the washroom scrubbed, cleanly shaved and wearing David's clothes. He looked like a new man in regular attire—there was no trace of the Hook Emma knew. Gone was the black leather clothes, the string of archaic pendants strewn around his neck, the smattering of exposed chest hair. Emma had grown fond of the spicy, sexual flavor of the renegade and free-spirit of Hook, the pirate and this new reserved presence was not quite as becoming on him.
"Coffee?" she asked. "Yes, please," he replied, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. Emma grabbed two coffee mugs and poured them each a cup of coffee.
"I'm sure you have lots of questions," Emma said, wondering what was running through Killian's mind. "Yes but all in due time. I would however like to know how I lost my hand?" Killian queried, holding up his stub. "Was it some kind of accident?
Emma's throat tightened and constricted. "It wasn't an accident exactly," she responded. "If I tell you, I need you to keep an open mind," Emma warned
An open mind? What did that mean? Killian looked at Emma perplexed.
Emma grabbed Henry's Once Upon A Time story book and placed it on top of the breakfast table.
"What's this?" Killian asked, curious. What did a large story book have to do with losing his hand? "What I'm about to reveal to you may seem far-fetched but every bit of its true and I need you to believe me," Emma stated. She was reluctant to go any further but knew there no choice in the matter. Killian needed to know everything.
"In this book Killian is our stories. Henry's. Mine. Yours. Many others. You see Storybrooke is a special place. It's not like other towns," Emma explained. Killian cocked his eyebrow. He had no idea where this was going but was intrigued. He nodded for Emma to continue.
"This book is enchanted…this town full of magic…and the people from a realm called the Enchanted Forest. You see Storybrooke is the stuff made of fairy tales," Emma told him, realizing how ridiculous it sounded as she was saying it. She read the entire book to him, retracing the history of Storybrooke back to the very beginning—to Regina's curse. She outlined every joyous and morbid detail, the hope, the loss, the anguish and despair, the victories and defeats, the ability to dream, love and believe in happy endings. A few hours passed and Killian had listened to it all, including his own story.
Well what do you think?" Killian's ice blue eyes focused on Emma. It was like watching two circles of blue fire dance across the night sky.
"I believe you Emma because you believe and even more because Henry believed enough for you and the whole town," he said. "I don't sense you are the kind of woman to mess around. You shoot straight." Emma was shocked by his reaction. Why was he such an easy sell? Where was his skepticism?
"Now I believe there is more you need to show me," Killian added.
"Yes… starting with this," Emma said aghast, but leading him towards her bedroom nonetheless.
She pulled open the drawer in the nightstand to retrieve the hook, nestled right beside the enchanted compass. "This is yours." She handed the hook back to him for the second time. He obviously would not recall the first time she had given it back to him in the hospital. It had been the start of something more between them.
"This is what you were wearing when I first met you…as Hook…back in the Enchanted Forest." She caught herself speaking as if Hook was dead. He stood there, holding up and staring at his hook, shining like a curved blade, with an odd sense of bewilderment. "It is quite the attachment," Killian voiced, continuing to marvel at it, as if it was a piece of lost treasure he had just discovered. "It's what gave you your identity after Rumple cut off your hand," Emma explained. "I am sure it did," Killian said, a smirk breaking out on his face. For a brief moment, Emma saw a glimmer of Hook break through. He was still there inside Killian, an essential part of him. He just didn't realize it yet.
"You and Hook were getting close I take it," Killian asked her.
"Yes but none of that matters now," Emma quipped, the disappointment evident in her voice. "Yes. Perhaps you are right. I'm sorry about that." He could see the pain in her eyes but it was true. None of it mattered. He felt like nothing more than a nameless entity of flesh and bone. How was he supposed to reconcile with his pirate past, when his mind was a blank canvas wiped clean? It was going to take time to fill in the colours, if that was even possible. The only thing keeping him sane was the present moment and what possibly lay ahead in the future.
"I'll take the hook with me. I'd also like to see Hook's ship…the Jolly Roger." Since the ship was his anyway, it would at least provide him a place of his own until he got his bearings.
V
Emma led Killian up the gangplank on to the deck of the Jolly Roger. He was taken aback at the grandeur of the vessel, her large regal masts towering in to the sky, the smoothness of her lines build from only the finest enchanted timber. Standing on her deck was like being transported back in time.
"She's beautiful. The most magnificent thing I've ever seen," Killian expressed, practically breathless.
"I'm sure you have had quite the adventures aboard her. Most of your life has been spent on this ship." Killian remained speechless. Emma could tell he was soaking it all in. Everything she had told him, the hook and now the ship. She was sure his mind was racing at a hundred miles a minute.
"Show me the rest."
They went down into the belly of the ship now, rummaging through the hold, Killian searching and touching everything he came in to contact with. He then stumbled across a large vat of rum in the back of the hold. "It looks like Hook drank a lot of rum." "Yes…I think his flask of rum was his life line…helped him sort through his problems," Emma said. This was just getting weird…talking about Hook like he was gone forever.
"Well Hook had his share of problems it seems," said Killian. They both emerged from the hold and made their way to Hook's private cabin. It was of a modest size with a single state bed tucked on the far side of the wall from the main door and dressed with a red brocade spread which reminded Emma of a red vest Hook sometimes had worn. The pirate seemed to like red for perhaps it reminded him of passion, revenge, love and blood. Several lavishly adorned pillows were strewn on top.
Aside from the bed, the room was rather simple. A round mirror with a gold etched frame hung on one wall adjacent a large oak table placed in the centre of the room for eating, journaling or seafaring. Above the table, was a large shelf stretching across the room from one wall to the other, bordered on top by several, picture frame-sized windows. It was filled mostly with books and Hook's journals which he kept of all his travels and the odd artifact or trophy from his conquests. Next to the door was a large wardrobe, which Killian was now opening. Inside hung Hook's attire—the long duster coat, his belted black vest and leather pants complete with sword and satchel. Killian threw the hook in to the wardrobe and slammed the door. "His wardrobe is a bit outlandish even for a pirate," he said, shaking his head with disdain, obviously not impressed.
Emma could feel her breath lock in the back of her throat. How could Killian dismiss Hook so precariously? She couldn't fathom his contempt for the pirate, especially when he didn't even know Hook's history…his history. It was as if Killian saw Hook as a separate entity from himself, a ghost from the past. Yes the pirate had caused havoc for her and the sleepy town of Storybrooke, but he had also enraptured and caught her heart. Killian—the man standing in front of her now—was virtually a stranger living inside the body of the man she had fallen in love with. There was no trace of the pirate left at all. Could Hook truly be dead? Emma slowly began to feel uneasy in his space…with this man she no longer really knew.
"I'm going to go but before I do, I want to give you this." She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the magic compass, having snatched it quickly from her nightstand with the creeping suspicion Killian would not return with her to the loft. Emma had come up against that same flight or fight instinct when she learned the truth of her own origins from Henry and August and anticipated Killian might respond similarly. Her instincts had been right.
"It should help you to navigate the Jolly Roger. Anyway, I have no use for it anymore. I thought you might like it," Emma said. Killian held the compass in his hand. It was a beautiful instrument, brassy and shiny, warm to the touch. "Thank you Emma. Please tell Henry the same." Emma smiled stiffly, cajoling herself into believing it was for the best given the circumstances. However, her insides were burning and dissolving from the pain of losing him. She knew this was goodbye, possibly forever. It was apparent from Killian's nonchalant tone, the indifference in his body language and the way his eyes dimmed like disappearing into a blue fog. He was panicked and wanted to flee.
"Take care of yourself Killian," she said, with the utmost sincerity, turning her back towards him and leaving the ship. It was too difficult to say it to his face without giving herself away. It would not be fair to hold him back with tears or sadness. He had suffered enough and she had to let him go for his own sake.
VI
Killian had spent the remainder of the day and evening scouring the Jolly Roger, inspecting every last inch of her, before pulling up anchor and leaving Storybrooke. He had discovered Hook's nautical logs in his quarters and read them late into the night. It didn't take him long to familiarize himself with the workings of the ship. In an uncanny way, everything about her came to him naturally. Perhaps it was the only innate knowledge Rumple had not been able to extrapolate from his bank of memories.
He passed the weeks sailing through unknown waters using the compass Emma had given him to guide him. Along the way, he docked the ship into small port towns for supplies funded by a stash of gold he had found in a small chest in the hold he was able to pawn for cash. The ancient sea-faring vessel, the Jolly Roger, brought him attention wherever he went, with her impressive craftsmanship and elegance. She was a jewel in a modern world.
Crowds would gather on the docks to see the glorious ship with all her finery for themselves. Killian devised a story explaining he was a ship builder, having restored and built the ship himself and now circumventing the globe. The children especially flocked to the Jolly Roger in droves, living out their pirate and high sea adventure fantasies. In his darkest days, they provided a spark of light that kept him going.
He welcomed the solace of his life as a sailor and took comfort in his freedom, not having to attach himself to anything or anyone in the outside world. It was not by choice but out of necessity, for if he stopped to think too much, he feared he would lose all his sensibilities and go mad. The more he kept himself busy and occupied, the less time he had to dwell on matters of the mind or heart. In fact, the more he learned about his former pirate self—this Hook—the more he was almost grateful he couldn't remember anything about him. Leaving Storybrooke and Hook behind had been the best choice for everyone. There was nothing there but terrible memories and bad blood. Nobody was going to miss the pirate. The only exception to that he knew would be Emma.
VII
"Do you think he is ever going to come back?" Henry asked his mom, sipping his hot chocolate sprinkled with cinnamon in a booth at Granny's. Emma looked down at her hot chocolate, tracing the outer rim of the mug with her thumb in a circular motion.
She missed Hook more than she let on. What had started as a slow burn in her heart had now grown into a longing ache that consumed her. How was it possible to miss someone so much you never really had a chance to love wholeheartedly? But she did. She loved Hook. The rogue pirate with his saucy personality and overt flirtations had somehow pushed his way in to her heart, making her a hostage to love. And regardless of giving Killian the enchanted compass, it was still mystically spinning its magic from afar.
"I don't know Henry...it seems unlikely," Emma replied with an edge of melancholy. Henry might only be a kid but he alone knew how much she pined for the pirate. He reached across the table and put his hand on hers. "Don't give up hope Mom…love will find its way back to you…you just have to believe.
Killian stood on the bow of the Jolly Roger basking in the warmth of a tropical breeze. He had navigated his way down the eastern seaboard and was anchored off the Florida coast. The climate and humidity of the region felt oddly familiar. Perhaps it had been all those years he had spent in Neverland.
He stared off into the expanse of sea that stretched out ahead of him. A full moon hung like an oversized luminescent pearl in the night sky casting a sheen on the calm black water below. The vast ocean only reminded him how loneliness had crept up on him like a stalking shadow as the months passed. He thought he could leave his demons behind, but now they were catching up with him.
For one he'd now read all Hook's journals. They had filled in the colors of his past and the man he had been before he had rebelled against the monarchy and faced so much personal loss, starting first with his father's abandonment and then Liam's death in Neverland. But it had been the violent and unnecessary death of Milah—the only woman Hook had ever loved—at the hands of Rumple that had catapulted his unravelling. And if anything was foretelling about Killian's impression about the man he had been as Hook, it was a passage from the pirate's own journal describing the day he met Emma Swan.
I was bested by a woman named Emma Swan from a place called Storybrooke. They came to the Enchanted Forest through a portal. She could see right through my façade…could tell I was lying about my origins. She was not easily swayed by my charms, taking me by the throat at knife point. What a tough lass she is. I could tell right away there was something about her that was tantalizingly dangerous. She spoke little and gave the orders, obviously the leader of her entourage. And yet part of her was so transparent, I could read her like an open book. She possessed the look of an orphan and I rightly told her so when climbing the bean stock to retrieve the compass. I asked her if she had ever been loved and she denied the fact only to admit she had once after seeing the tattoo of Milah upon my forearm. No woman has challenged me so since the death of my Milah nor captivated my curiosity. Who had bested her?
But suffice it to say Swan chose not to trust me, manacling me to a stone and leaving me to rot. I was shocked for she seemed a fair woman. Whom ever had betrayed her in the past had done much damage of which I paid for. I wanted her to trust me, to give me a chance to prove I could be a man of my word, a man of honor. There was something about her that lit a spark in me which I have not felt since finding Baelfire all those years ago. I could see giving up revenge for something greater beyond myself, but now all is lost. No one can trust a pirate but alas is that not what I am? A pirate is a pirate after all and will never change. It only reaffirms I am renewed in my purpose to enact my revenge on Rumple now more than ever. Tomorrow I will seek out Cora and re-establish our alliance. I will get to Storybrooke and kill the Crocodile if it is the last thing I do. And if death awaits me and leads to my untimely demise, I will have not died in vain.
Killian understood Hook had a propensity to love fiercely and hard and in exchange, seek revenge just as fiercely and hard. When the pirate took up a cause, he attacked it with every fibre of his being and stood to his conviction right to the end, even if it meant staring death in the face. If Hook had been a survivor what kind of man was he now as Killian? A coward? A man who feared the past and ran away when things got uncomfortable? In these last days he could feel Hook stir inside him, fighting to come alive and exist once more. And this was only because Killian no longer desired to distance himself from the pirate he had been. Hook was not an archetypal villain as he presumed but a passionate man with the ability to love and be honorable if only given the chance. Emma had obviously understood this about him in the end. And now Killian needed to understand it too if he was ever to feel whole again.
VIII
Emma sat down on a large log on the shore of Storybrooke's beach looking out towards the ocean. It was her favorite thinking place. Lately she had been coming often to think about him. Where he was? What he was doing? Had he moved on and found some semblance of peace and happiness?
"Emma…is everything okay?" Emma turned around to see David, her father, walking down the sandy waterfront towards her. She had not informed her parents of her feelings for Hook for fear they would not understand. How could the Saviour fall in love with a pirate?
David took a seat beside her on the log. "What's up? You have not been yourself lately." His eyes met his daughters and he could tell something was pressing on her heart. "What is it …what's troubling you?" asked David, putting his hand on her shoulder for reassurance. "Whatever it is you can tell me?" She wanted to but was reluctant. Would they think less of her for falling for a villain?
"It's Hook." David perked up at the mention of Hook's name. He was not particularly fond of the pirate nor the trouble he had brought to town with him.
"Nobody has seen him in Storybrooke for months. Why are you worried about him…you think he is still a threat?" he asked.
"No…not after losing his memories…it's just…I miss him."
David was confused. What exactly was his daughter driving at?
"Why would you say that? I don't understand Emma…he was a troublemaker…just another villain this town didn't need. It is better he is gone."
"For who…you…Rumple…the town? He wasn't a villain David, he was a broken man…he was a lot like me." David could see she had established some type of connection with the pirate after she had shot him. It was obvious her guilt about it was still prevalent and she didn't need a lecture. She needed an ear to listen.
"Tell me about it," David inquired. Emma could see he was giving her an opening and took it.
"When I met Hook in the Enchanted Forest he was looking for transport back to Storybrooke to kill Rumple because he is the one who cut off his hand and killed Milah," Emma explained to her father. "I know it wasn't right but his actions were driven by pain and loss, not villainy."
David was unaware of the back story on the pirate. "Milah was Rumple's wife…she left him because she fell in love with Hook. I found this out when Hook and I climbed the bean stock to retrieve the compass but instead of giving him passage, I manacled him to a stone and left him behind."
"What made you do that?" David asked, trying to get the full picture of his daughter's story. "I couldn't trust him…not after Neal. I needed to get back to Henry and I couldn't risk being wrong about Hook."
David was well aware of how Neal, Henry's father, had betrayed his daughter and left her in jail, pregnant and alone over a decade ago. She had never heard from him again.
"And that is why you have a hard time opening yourself up to love?" David asked.
"Yes…Neal broke my heart and I saw that same pain in Hook. It was like reliving the whole experience with Neal all over again. I got spooked. But worse, Hook could read me like an open book…see through my walls, knew I was an orphan by the look in my eyes and that scared the crap out of me."
"I don't understand why you miss him then if being around him was so painful and he intimidated you," said David. He really was trying his best to understand.
"It was the compass…were destined to meet and fall in love because of it. It chose us. I learned this from Rumple when he told me about the nature of its real power. But he didn't want Hook to be happy after he shot Belle. He enacted his own revenge by wiping his memories away as a form of retribution."
"Revenge definitely doesn't lead to happiness," said David. Revenge had cost everyone in Storybrooke too much already.
"Yes exactly," Emma said, fully agreeing with her father. "And Hook realized that too…after I shot him. He was changing…I could feel it…the power from the compass was turning him in to a better man…a man I began to truly see and fall in love with."
"And with no memories he got scared and ran didn't he?" David asked Emma. She nodded, returning her gaze to the ocean in front of her. "Yes…Rumple didn't just erase his memories…he killed the part of Killian that was Hook and now there is not a day that goes by where I can't stop and think about him…about what might have been."
IX
Killian opened Hook's wardrobe and dug out his hook, then removing his fake hand, snapped the hook in to place instead. It was the first time he had worn it since losing his memories. Next he pulled out Hook's attire. Slowly undressing out of his civilian clothes, he maneuvered his way, with hooked hand, in to the pirate's clothing. The leather pants, vest and coat were heavy and stiff on his body making it almost impossible to move.
He had purchased a full length mirror and placed it next to his bed for he needed to see himself as Hook in order for it to feel real. Killian stared at his reflection now in the mirror and saw only a stranger…a man looking like a pirate or something out of children's story book. How could he not feel anything but disconnected from the pirate he had been without being able to remember?
He was just about to redress in his own clothes again when his eyes caught an object on top of the oak table emanating light so overwhelming at first, he thought it was catching the sun's rays streaming through the windows. He quickly realized it was actually the compass Emma had given him, glowing so strongly now it permeated the entire cabin in a shroud of blinding white light. It was like he had stepped through the doors of heaven.
Cupping his hand over his brow, he sidestepped carefully towards where the compass lay, reaching for it. The chain and compass burned like fire in his good hand, until he switched it over, holding it now with his hook.
He watched as the compass glowed and spun around in circles at a remarkable speed, carrying the entire room with it like an out-of-control kaleidoscope. Within seconds, the air in the room became unbearable from the light's heat. Killian ripped off the long duster coat and vest, loosening Hook's black muslin shirt at the neck. Beads of sweat dripped down his brow which he wiped away with the cuff of the shirt. The heat from the compass grew in intensity until even Killian's internal organs felt like they too were on fire. This is what it must feel like to be burned alive?" he thought, except without the putrid smell of burning flesh. Obviously the compass was enchanted as Emma had told him, but he never thought it would lead to his demise. He would die without her ever knowing what had become of him. "
Emma…Emma!" he screamed repeatedly from parched lips, gasping in agony between each difficult breathe. The heat was choking the life right out of him until eventually he could no longer speak. Everything faded to a pitch black like being suspended in a dark cave with no way out. All he could remember before passing out was the eruption of a lifetime of memories flooding his mind like a voracious, hungry river he thirsted for but could not contain.
X
It was a cold, late autumn day and Emma was preparing a breakfast of pancakes and scrambled eggs for Henry before school. The adolescent youngster had grown up in the past year and life had settled down into a nice quiet routine for them. Emma was even getting along with Regina of all people. But a day did not go by where Swan did not still think about Hook though it was becoming less and less. She had resigned to the idea he was gone from her life forever and if she was to move on, needed to let go of him completely. It had not been easy.
"Henry come and eat or you will be late for school." Her son plucked himself down at the breakfast bar scarfing down his food rather hurriedly before grabbing his backpack and lunch off the counter and heading for the door. Before disembarking from the loft, Emma stopped him and planted a big kiss on his head. "Be safe. I love you," she said. It was something she told him now everyday…just in case.
"I love you too," he said, leaning over to unlatch the front door which was instantly halted by a forceful, thunderous knock coming from outside.
"Expecting someone?" Henry replied. "No not at this hour," said Emma, shrugging her shoulders. There was an urgency to the knock that sent her in to her protective mode. It definitely wasn't her parents because she had come to recognize their knock from memory.
Henry propped himself up on his toes to peer through the peephole. "Oh my god," he said, startled and now backing away from the door. "Uh mom…it's for you."
"Who is it?" Emma responded. "You won't believe it. Just answer the door and see for yourself."
Emma, feeling overly cautious, went to peer through the peephole but was immediately blocked by her son's hand on her shoulder. "Just open it…trust me."
Emma stopped and recalibrated herself for a moment before following Henry's lead. She undid the latch and slowly pried open the door. There standing in front of her was him…Killian in Hook's clothes.
"Killian…is it really you?" Emma trembled, completely in shock and convinced she was seeing an apparition.
"Aye, Swan…it's been too long," he said. His face glowed with zeal and Emma noticed a familiar playful spark in his ice blue eyes. But more than anything, the smile spread across his handsome, weathered and scruffy face was the most damning evidence. "Hook?" she said, extending her hand towards his face. Could it really be him after a year?
He caught her hand with gentle ease, now guiding it in his up to his face. "Yes…it is I," he replied with an air of fondness.
Emma stood there in complete disbelief, their eyes locked together and the warmth of his moist palm smashed against hers. Hook slowly gathered her up in his arms, straddling her back with his hook, his good hand cupping her head of golden curls. They stood there for what seemed eternity, just holding each other in a tight and full embrace, before the pirate moved in to press his lips against hers in a long, drawn-out and tender kiss. After several minutes had passed, he finally released her and stepped back.
"How…did you…I don't understand?"
Hook pulled open his long duster coat and retrieved the enchanted compass, now dangling from his hook in front of her.
"You once told me when we found the compass we could go home. Well here I am my love…at last."