A/N: Don't know about you lot, but I am entirely too impatient for January 6th... I am deeply indebted to those of you following and reviewing the story—you keep my wild imagination chugging away. As mentioned before, this story takes place in the midst of "Queen of Hearts". In reminder of that, Aurora has already met with Cora and Hook, and she has reunited with Emma and the group on their way to Rumpel's cell.

Chapter One

"Oh, here goes my curious sinner within;

Is someone listening? I hope no one is listening…"

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x

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"For the hundredth time, Mary Margaret, I'm fine!"

"Emma, there's something you're not telling me. And I think if you just rest a while, maybe you'd be more willing…"

"No!" Emma's clipped tone left no room for further argument. She rounded on her mother. "I am not going back to sleep."

Snow braced herself. "We all have nightmares, but that's no excuse to become an insomniac." She glanced at Aurora. "No offense."

The princess visibly bristled but she dismissed the comment.

Snow turned back to her daughter. "Emma, you have to tell me," she took a deep, steadying breath, "I am your mother, after all. As Aurora and I have lately proven, dreams hold a great amount of power, and I can't take the chance that something deeper than a nightmare is going on."

"It's nothing."

Snow quirked a brow. "So 'nothing' is the reason you haven't eaten for two days? Really, Emma." She reached forward and took Emma's hand in hers. Emma had to fight with herself not to roll her eyes at the gesture. Mary Margaret was really getting into this mothering role lately. And it was driving her up the wall. Or, tree. There were no walls here. "I've tried my best to be very open with you, and I think it's important we establish trust." Emma scoffed, Snow's last word striking her hard to the core and bringing up a certain unwanted, roguish visage in her mind.

"Look. I know you're trying to redeem yourself for lost time, but I've looked after myself for as long as I can remember. I don't need some Freud-wannabe psychoanalyzing my dreams. I don't have any sort of a complex, so please, can we just get back on track and focus on getting to Rumpeltiltskin's cell?" Mary Margaret's jaw dropped. Emma immediately regretted her harsh tone, but it had to be said. She was fine—or at least that was the appearance she wanted to give. Deep down, she knew differently. Her fingers absentmindedly met the bracer on her arm. It was pulsing slightly, like a heartbeat. She wanted to rip it off, but something, or someone, inside her head was silently issuing a warning not to touch the bloody thing.

"We have to move. Quickly," Mulan interrupted the heart-warming rendezvous. "We still have the upper ground over Cora if we can get the ink."

Mary Margaret nodded. "It's still at least a few hours' journey." She turned to Emma. "Do you think—"

"I'm. Fine," Emma all but growled.

"—you could take the rear…"

Emma's eyes rose. Shit. "Yeah. Sorry." Her mother frowned.

"I may be trying to make up for lost time, Emma, but that's something you have to let me do. I won't force it on you. I understand perfectly well that you can take care of yourself. You proved yourself quite well with that beanstalk and Hook," Emma flinched at the mention of his name, "but that doesn't mean it's illegal for me to worry about my daughter. I haven't gotten to for nearly twenty-eight years. I'm a bit out of practice, so I apologize," she hissed, "if I seem overbearing to you."

Snow twisted away from Emma, stepping ahead with Mulan to take the lead of their group. Emma sighed, running her hands through her hair—a nervous tic that she was sure would make her go bald. She froze, feeling a heavy gaze on her. Emma looked up to catch Aurora eyeing her curiously.

"What?" she said angrily.

Aurora squared her shoulders, pursing her lips. "You should be grateful for her. Where I come from, family is a rare blessing, something I envy you for now."

Emma rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was a lecture on respect from a prim and proper princess. God. She probably had her parents tuck her into bed every night until she decided to prick her damn finger on a spinning wheel. Or…lock her in a tower, or…whatever Aurora's fate had been. Emma frowned, suddenly realizing she knew nothing about these characters, or their stories. She let out a long breath. "You're probably right."

"Quick, you two!" Mulan yelled from ahead. "We can't afford any dead weight. Hook may be tracking us as well as Cora."

Emma noticeably tensed at the pirate's name, clenching her jaw and fingers simultaneously. The leather brace had engulfed her arm in flames once more, and Emma half wished her arm would just burn itself off. It was bad enough to have him mentally jarring her, but physically as well. Her anxiety, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by Aurora, whose gaze had narrowed considerably.

"You have feelings for him?" she asked quietly once they had covered more distance after Emma and Mulan. Aurora's head was cocked to the side, as though the angle would help her better discern Emma's emotions. But Emma had learned a thing or two from a certain buccaneer about being an open book, and she'd be damned if a cocky princess would be able to read her too.

So she decided to play dumb. "For who?" She stepped over a fallen log, reaching back to help Aurora trip clumsily over its limbs.

Aurora smiled, speaking patiently as though to a child. Emma hated it. "For Captain Hook. He seems to care for you a great deal."

"Yeah. So you said earlier. But no. I make it a point not to sleep with conniving thieves." Well, that was a lie. Emma's heart raced painfully at the thought of Neal, but she quickly shoved all thoughts of him aside, focusing instead on quickening her pace. Aurora had to trot to keep up.

Emma allowed herself a quick glance at the inquisitive princess. She appeared puzzled. How adorable. "I didn't ask anything about sleeping with him; heaven knows why you would want to spend the night with a man without the settlement of marriage." Innocent too. Even cuter. "What I meant was, do you like him? Would you be affected if," Aurora paused, her tone somehow menacing despite her guiltless features, "something were to happen to him?"

Emma gritted her teeth. She was quickly tiring of Aurora's poking and prodding into her private life. Not that, of course, there was anything to hide.

Aurora continued. "He was only trying to help, you know. He wants to help you get back to your son. I'm sure he could learn to care for the boy too."

"I'm not sure things will be any different regarding my son when we get back," Emma snapped. "His mother will make sure of it."

"I have no doubt that Regina would share him with you after this."

Emma froze for a millisecond before pressing ahead of the princess. Her heart had stopped cold—not only because of the sickening abundance of optimism in Aurora's voice, but at the mention of Regina—the mere use of her name, a name she was positive Aurora could not connect to Henry. Unless… She glanced over her shoulder at Aurora, who was diligently trying to keep up, her head tucked down as she focused on not falling flat on her face. No, Emma thought. That's not possible.

Yes, and it's not exactly possible that you're here in a land of fairytales, having just climbed down from a giant beanstalk and running off to find magical octopus ink, either, Emma.

Emma winced. Her conscience had begun to take the form of his voice. But, much to her chagrin, it was right. Things that hardly seemed possible before should not be so easily dismissed here.

For the next few hours, Emma kept all conversation with Aurora at a level of zero, gradually transitioning from the ever popular one-word responses to complete silence, ignoring further inquiries and instead offering nothing but the icy Cold Shoulder at every mention of the pain-in-her-ass Captain Hook. Aurora, ignorant as ever, pursued her inquiries as if on a quest, dividing her questions between Emma and their valiant leaders.

"Are we nearly there?"

No.

"May we rest for a bit?"

No.

"How much further?"

No.

"Where are we going?"

No.

Those were the questions Emma could, albeit somewhat annoyed, swat away with a clipped negative, whether or not it made sense. It was the requests directed specifically towards her which set her on edge:

"Where do you think Hook is?"

Stuck in a bottomless pit, I hope.

"Do you think Hook's coming for you, Emma?"

If he wants to be met with a swift knee to his dick, then by all means…

"Will you allow Hook to travel back with us to Storybook?"

Storybrook, and like hell.

"Do you trust him?"

Emma could not come up with a mental retort for that one. Because, if she were being honest with herself, she didn't quite know, exactly. She didn't want to, and her reasoning had begged her not to atop that beanstalk. But some small part of her…maybe…recognized that, perhaps once, just once, there may have been something in him to trust. In the past. No, Emma frowned. Definitely not now. Two-faced twit was probably making up with Cora. She could almost imagine them holding hands, skipping through the forest. Emma's face cracked into a twinge of a smile at the mental image of the two frolicking together.

"That smile on your face…are you thinking of him?" Aurora perked up.

Emma growled, rounding on her. "Do you EVER just SH—"

"Emma!" Mary Margaret scolded. Emma glared at her before turning a sneer back on Aurora.

"Zip. It. Princess. Or I'll do it for you." Mulan intervened, drawing her sword halfway as she stepped between Emma and Aurora. Emma could have sworn Aurora leaned around Mulan's shoulder to smirk darkly at her before resuming her hiding place behind her companion's protective stance.

Emma raised her hands in surrender. "No more inquisitions. You escort her." Fed up, she twisted around and stalked in the direction they were headed, Snow at her side. Mulan swiftly re-sheathed her weapon and took her friend by the arm, falling a few paces behind to keep Aurora out of Emma's reach. And hopefully, she thought, out of earshot.

When they were far enough away, Snow spoke up. "What's the matter with you, Emma? You're so…you seem so agitated. Does it have something to do with whatever happened up on that beanstalk? Between you and Hook?"

Emma groaned. "There is nothing between us, Mary Margaret. I told you. I made friends with the giant. I played nice, and he's detaining Hook for me so we'd have a ten hours' start on him. We—I—can't be responsible for him. He was expecting a ride back home with us. Where he was planning on killing Rumpelstiltskin, and," she swallowed thickly, chest suddenly constricting in pain, "God knows who else. I can't take a chance with that. I'm the sheriff, for Christ's sake. I might as well polish his hook for him, hand over Gold in handcuffs, and say have at him, but make sure you play nicely with the others. Like locking a kid in a room full of candy for hours and telling him not to eat any. The hell with that. It's my town, and I can't—"

"Alright, alright. I get it, Emma, I truly do. We can't take him with us. Believe me, Charming would have a sword in him the moment we returned. But, sweetie, it's almost like you're suffering from guilt. You verbally defend yourself quite well, but physically…you wear your heart on your sleeve. I blame myself," Snow blushed, bowing her head with the hint of a smile. "You must get that from me."

Emma stared at her hard for a moment before returning her attention to the path ahead. Suddenly, she breathed the words that had been plaguing her for days. "I dream of him."

Snow's jaw dropped. "Emma. He would by no means make a suitable hus—"

"Nonononono. I meant. I've been having dreams. Or, nightmares. Ever since we left the beanstalk three days ago. And he's always in them. He starts out in my head, and then he's really there, and by the end, in every one, he's killed…there's blood on my chest, and on his hook, and…I'm usually in the process of dying by the time I wake up."

She glanced at Snow, whose pallor had gone shockingly white. "Are you sure," she breathed, "are you sure it's you who he's killed? And are you even sure he's killed you?"

Emma shrugs. "Does it matter? Each time, he physically hurts me. I can feel it. And when I wake up, I still feel it." She pursed her lips, glancing down at the leather bracer. Surely she was losing her mind. "And when I'm awake…I still feel him. In my head. He won't talk when I'm awake, but I can feel—"

"We're here!" Mulan shouted, dragging a breathless Aurora up to the pair. "That's the cave where they held him, isn't it?"

Snow unwillingly tore her gaze away from Emma. She nodded sternly. "His cell's in there." The mouth of the cave was hardly what Emma would call inviting. Stalactites and stalagmites stretched together like a gaping hole with teeth. Mulan marched ahead, withdrawing her sword and making quick work of clearing the entrance. Snow followed her lead, breaking down the sickles.

"This isn't too far from Snow's castle…" Aurora mused aloud. Emma narrowed her eyes at the princess, who offered her a warm smile. Something was off with her. Way off.

"We're in," Snow shouted over her shoulder. Mulan pressed ahead into the cave. Emma took one step towards the cave. Then balked. Her entire arm was engulfed in flames, licking their way through her veins. The pain seared its way to her shoulder, but instantly calmed the moment Emma doubled over and backed up a few paces. Aurora had gone ahead of her. Emma thanked God no one had noticed. Especially the Inquisitor from Hell. She took a step forward again. The torture returned with vengeance, this time invading her muscles. She could feel him, an icy hand wrapping its way around her wrist and twisting. A painful opposition to an Indian rug burn, Emma thought wryly. Amidst the drumming in her head, she heard him. Loud and clear. "No."

Her eyes widened. She knew better than to look around her, because she knew he wasn't there, but in her head—yet instincts begged her to take a quick look anyway. Nothing. Just the trees. No movement. No Hook.

She tried another step, wincing against the bracer's grip. "Back away, lass."

No, you back the fuck away, Hook.

He chuckled. The bastard was actually chuckling inside her head. "Little thing has a mouth, does she?"

I'm sick and tired of your games. So leave me the hell alone. I want to go into the cave, she finished rather stubbornly.

"No caves for you, darling."

What the hell makes you think you have a say in what I do? And why has your vocabulary suddenly expanded? You were a broken record in my dreams.

"Why, Swan, I'm flattered."

Emma's nostrils flared. Of what, exactly?

She could practically hear the grin in his tone. "You dream of me."

Emma ignored him. "I'm going into the cave," she said aloud, "and you can't fucking stop me."

"Don't be long, love."

And why ever the hell not?

"We're close."

Emma was certain ice was flowing through her veins now. We. He'd said "we". Him and Cora. So he'd done it, then. He'd gone and made up with the wicked witch of the west. There was no going back now, of that she was certain. They had to get the ink and get the hell out. Before Team Rocket made its special debut. Without further warning, Emma surged ahead, sprinting through the mouth of the cave and doing her best to work up a mental block against the pain.

As she wound her way through the turns, she wondered when she had become a telepathic freak. Or him. No, if anything, he was the freak. Emma was merely an innocent bystander; he was clearly taking advantage of said innocent, human mind. Untouched by magic. It had to be proximity, she decided. If he was close, like he'd said, maybe whatever mental connection he had created was stronger now. Like a walkie talkie, or cell phone. Emma rolled her eyes at the thought. Great. Captain Hook has me on speed dial. So, not only could he infiltrate her dreams, but he was flat-out invading her thoughts too. Nosey asshole, ever hear of privacy?

"Emma, where have you been?!" Snow exclaimed as Emma flew around a final curve and nearly ran her mother over.

"Mary Margaret, we have to get out of here. Now."

"But the ink—"

"Forget it. We have to go. Right. Now." The urgency in Emma's tone left little room for argument. But Snow refused to back down.

"This ink is our only way of getting home, Emma."

"I know, but Hook—"

"Oh, so that's what you were doing? Taking a power nap?" Emma was shocked by Snow's display of bitterness, and something inside her flared at the accusation of her willingly contacting Hook.

"No," she choked out through clenched teeth. "He's decided to bother me when I'm conscious now, too. But that's beside the point. He told me they're coming."

Snow cocked her head to the side. "Why would he warn you?"

"I don't know," Emma admitted.

Mulan spoke up, "It could be a trap." Snow nodded in agreement, keeping her eyes on Emma. She suddenly felt like a child, and she half-marveled at Mary Margaret's ability to make her feel such a thing. She had definitely gotten too good at the mother thing.

"Mary Margaret, you have to trust me on this. I don't know why, but I believe him. And we can't take any more chances with this. We have to pick our best option to get back home."

"Yes, to your son," Aurora broke in.

Emma paused, turning to the princess who had interrupted one too many bloody times. "Yeah. My kid." She narrowed her gaze icily, determined to prove just how off Aurora was. "And what's his name, again?" Mary Margaret stepped forward, obviously worried about Emma's mental state, but she quickly shushed her with a raised hand, keeping her eyes steadily on the princess.

Aurora looked away, rubbing her arms as if from cold. Stalling. She doesn't know, Emma realized. She couldn't know.

Within a flash, Emma had Aurora pinned up against the wall, Snow's sword to her neck. Snow yelled at her to let Aurora go, but she was quickly distracted in detaining Mulan from attacking Emma. Emma's voice was dangerously low. "What's his name?"

Her eyes were wide with fright. "I—I don't…what?"

"Let her go!" Mulan screamed. Snow kicked her weapon from her hand and was struggling to hold her back.

"Emma, what is going on?!"

She ignored them. "His name. My son's name."

Aurora was shaking uncontrollably. "I can't…why are you…don't do this."

And then, out of nowhere: "It isn't her fault, lass."

Emma's eyes narrowed, but she was no longer speaking to Aurora. Or anyone in the cave. "Then why can't she tell me his name, Goddamn it?!"

"Because Cora doesn't know his name."

And instantly, Emma knew. She pushed herself away from Aurora, keeping her sword pointed in the princess' direction. She glanced towards Snow and Mulan. "Cora. It's Cora. She's got her under her control somehow. Brainwashed. I had my suspicions, but—"

"Cora didn't touch her!" Mulan shouted.

"We only know what Aurora's told us! Don't you get that? She's controlling her somehow, like a puppet. Magic food or something. I don't know, but I know that isn't her. She met Henry in the dream. She should have no problem saying his name, unless it isn't her."

"You're frightening her! With a sword pointed at my throat, I doubt I would be able to recall a child's name either."

"Emma's right," Snow said hollowly. "You don't forget those dreams easily. She should remember." But there was no more time for arguing. Emma's spine went rigid at the sound of muffled footsteps. Her heart leapt in her chest, and the leather bracer on her wrist seemed to thunder uncontrollably in tandem with its beat at the realization of Hook being so near. She could hear Snow shouting behind her, searching the cell frantically while Mulan kept Aurora in place. Snow was yelling at her to help, but she sounded so far away. Her feet felt like lead, rooting her to the spot as she stared in horror at the brightening mouth of the cave. Torches. They were getting closer.

"Run."

No! Emma gritted her teeth, frustrated with her inability to move. I'm not going to leave them.

"Damnit, Swan! You bloody, buggering—"

Snow suddenly yelled in surprise, effectively distracting Emma from Hook's string of vulgar curses inside her head as he continued berating her. "I found it! The ink, it's here!"

A small vial was pushed into Emma's hand. She felt dazed, as though it had taken every ounce of energy she had left to turn away from the mouth of the cave. She pocketed it without thinking. And in a matter of seconds, everything seemed to happen at once.

A band of men, their eyes glazed and movements stiff, rounded the final corner with swords outstretched, leering at the women.

Snow shoved Emma forward through an alternate passage, Mulan close at their heels with Aurora in tow.

Snow screamed something about splitting up. Emma frowned, somehow understanding that it was wrong to separate. They needed to stick together. But before she could open her mouth, Snow was charging to the left, and Mulan and Aurora sprinted ahead, leaving Emma to her own devices. She blinked, clearing away the fog inside her head. The voices were growing louder. "Come on, Emma, move!" she hissed at herself, forcing her leaded legs forward one at a time until she was racing hastily through the woods, leaping over fallen logs and weaving her way through branches. One snagged at her cheek, drawing blood.

After some time, Emma's pace slowed, entirely unsure where she was. She glanced around. She cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled. "Mary Margaret! Mulan!" Her calls went unanswered, and Emma half feared she was drawing unwanted attention to herself. She waited on bated breath. The sound of heavy footfalls was her only response. Emma's heart sunk. They were too heavy for Mary Margaret, but she couldn't see a damn thing for the trees. She had no weapon, just a small jar of ink. What the hell am I supposed to do, write them to death? Her eyes caught a glimpse of something moving. Darting past the trees in front of her. She swerved and sprinted diagonal to the direction she had come, avoiding whatever was pursuing her.

It was too late.

Her foot caught on a root.

She was airborne.

Her body propelled itself towards a tree, catching her shoulder with a sickening echo. Before she could pull herself up, or roll for cover, something was on her.

She kicked, elbowed, punched, but all she struck was air. And then:

"Lie bloody still, will you?"

That voice.

His voice.

Emma groaned.

I am in the middle of a forest. Being chased by zombies. And Captain Hook is lying on top of me.

…Goddamn it.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. Feel free to review and let me know what you think! I am still looking for a beta, so if anyone is interested, as always, let me know via review or PM.