The warmth of the campfire is comforting on Emma's fingertips. Her knee bounces in comfortless tension. She can feel the way Killian watches her, the way a man looks at a beautiful treasure he's never seen before and can't wait to finally have in his hands. It's not much different than the way he typically looks at her, but feeling it again after having he'd been quiet about his feelings for so long is a bit overwhelming.
"So, what can we help you with?" Liam asks, frying up a fish for her to eat.
"I assume you know of my curse, being unable to leave Neverland," Emma answers, playing along.
"Are you looking for help with breaking that curse?" Killian speaks this time, leaning forward to examine her face a bit closer.
"No, no. See, that's the thing. I was able to break it myself through..." Emma struggles for a moment. "A deal that I made with the ruler of this island. He'd rather have me gone than helping sailors leave."
"Who? That boy?" Liam scoffs. Emma cannot help but feel as though Pan is watching them. She can sense his eyes in the trees, through the vines, dripping from the humidity. He's out there, and she'd rather not provoke him.
"He's not one to be trifled with," Emma answers. "Take it from someone who knows from experience."
"Well if your curse is broken, then what's keeping you here?"
"I just need a ride home back to Misthaven." She doubts that The Jolly Roger - or is it The Jewel of the Realm? - can cross realms back to her world. And even then, if she were to make it back to the world without magic, then what? She'd be trapped in 1800s Maine with no magic and no way of traveling through time. She needs to find the help of someone powerful, but the only other person who would be alive right now would be...the Dark One?
Is Rumplestiltskin even the Dark One yet? If she recalls correctly, Killian once told her that Gold wasn't the Dark One until after Hook began his affair with Milah.
That left her with no one.
For a brief minute she considers just staying here this time, taking the easy way out. Her parents would still have their Emma, that Emma would meet Neal, have Henry...But it's too risky. Messing with Killian's timeline could mean that the future Emma doesn't successfully find the compass and make it back home. And if she does make it back home, who would help her get to Neverland to save Henry before it's too late?
Emma's eyes snap up to Killian. Before that moment, she had not realized how important this man was to her family's happiness. If she changes it too much, she could not only ruin his life, but the lives of her family.
"Princess?" Killian asks carefully. "You're looking at me curiously, is everything alright?"
"Sorry, did you say something? Got lost in my own thoughts."
"I said that we can unquestionably bring you home with us. I think our king would be excited to meet the mythical Swan Princess."
"I'm hardly a myth," Emma says a bit shyly. I'm hardly even a princess. "But I really would appreciate it, thank you!"
"It's our honor to help you," Liam says. "Perhaps you might be some assistance to us."
Emma's lips rise in a slow smile. She feels like falling forward and letting the relief just wash over her, but instead she straightens her back and nods. Her heart is still expecting Liam to ask the question why a mythical goddess cannot transport herself off an island, but if he's wondering, he doesn't ask.
"I'll repay you in any way I can. You said you needed some information?"
"Aye," Killian confirms, his accent a familiar sound to her ears. He pulls an old piece of parchment from his sack and hands it to her. "We're on a quest for our king looking for that plant. Do you know anything about it?"
It's definitely dreamshade. The picture is a colored depiction of the plant's roots, thick and light green, but it's the drawing of the leafed plant that confirms to Emma that she knows what it is. It's actually more thick branches and poisonous thorns, rather than a leafy bush.
It's the moment of truth. If Emma is going to save Liam, it needs to happen right now. He might not trust Killian's better judgement, but she's sure he'll listen to a goddess who supposedly has lived on the island for hundreds of years.
But if she saves Liam now, will Killian ever become Hook? Will he meet Milah? Meet her?
Maybe his life would be better with Liam in it. Maybe Killian would meet a nice girl, settle down. It certainly would remove over a hundred years of a thirst for vengeance. Maybe he'd be happier that way.
Her heart races. She doesn't want to be in this position.
In the end, she pulls together all her willpower and shrugs.
"That's Dreamshade. The stuff's everywhere."
"It shouldn't be too hard to find, then?"
Emma's insides twist, her brain delivering its loud, familiar warning to Run away! But she tells him as much truth as she can.
"You should be able to find it without needing to journey into the jungle much." She hesitates, then adds, "It's sharp. Be careful collecting it."
Reaching over to Killian, she hands him back the drawing, unable to look at it anymore.
"The boy, Pan, he says that the plant is poisonous. That it's doom."
Emma hopes they can't see the way the guilt is painted across her face, with her averted gaze and lip stuck firmly between her teeth.
"I can't say I know. Pan is known for his tricks, but even he must tell the truth sometimes. His warning could be either."
Killian and Liam exchange a glance. It seems to be in their own secret language, a silent understanding between them both that Emma isn't in on.
"Well now that we've got that all figured out, perhaps Killian and I should get some rest. We've a big day tomorrow if we want to collect the dreamshade and leave this cursed island. Will you meet us here by the evening tide around sunset?"
Us. Emma knows that at this time tomorrow, there won't be an us. There will be a Killian Jones, and an Emma Swan, but Liam will be gone. But it's necessary.
Even if Hook ends up hating her for it.
"By your rowboat at the shore," Emma confirms.
Liam says his goodnights, then relaxes back onto his leafy bed. Killian remains sitting upright.
"Are you alright, Lieutenant?" she asks when Liam's breathing evens out. Emma doesn't know this young Killian. She might be able to predict the behavior of the Hook back home, but this straight-laced naval officer is entirely new territory.
"I should be resting," he says in a low, quiet voice. "But I can't shake the feeling that something will go wrong."
"Your brother appears to be a very capable man," Emma reasons, but her heart isn't in it.
"He's the most capable man I've ever met. He's just so...bloody stubborn sometimes."
It must run in the family, she wants to say, but she only nods. She rises to her feet, and motions for him to follow her. She leads him to the waterfall, the water glistening even brighter in the dark night. She lifts her skirt just above her knees, and dips in her feet. Beside her, Killian rolls up his pant legs and drops his feet beside hers. The silence is heavy, but it's comfortable, like a warm embrace or sleeping under a dozen blankets on a cold night.
"This is the furthest away I've ever been from home," Killian comments.
"Well you are in another realm. Besides, I thought sailors didn't have a home."
Killian considers this, narrowing his eyes at the ebbing pool. He pokes a finger into the water and swirls it aimlessly.
"I suppose you're right. As long as I sail on the Jewel, I think I'll get as close as I'll ever get to home."
Emma's mind flashes back to the last conversation she had with Hook.
"Home is the place that when you're gone, you just miss it," she recalls outloud. Killian nods in understanding.
"What about you? Where's your home?" he asks her, sounding a bit anxious to change the subject.
"Somewhere far from here, I doubt you've ever heard of it."
"I've spent all my life on the sea, Highness. I've been many places." Killian shifts just a bit closer. He looks at her the same way he always does, with a heavy stare that creates tangible tension in the air and makes her want to kiss him all over again.
For a moment she considers telling him the name of her home, but the less details she discloses the better chance she has of returning home to a completely normal Hook.
"Perhaps you've traveled there then," and Killian's expression falls just barely. He knows he isn't going to get an exact answer from her. For a moment, Emma thinks he's about to inch away from her, create distance between them.
Instead, he takes a risk.
"Perhaps we'll meet again someday." His smile is so hopeful. She smiles so long at her that she's able to memorize the way it looks, from the rise of color in his cheeks to the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
"Of that, Lieutenant, I am sure." Killian bites his lip to hide how his smile gets even wider.
She should not be doing this, flirting with a man that isn't going to see her for another few hundred years, but the blues his of eyes are so hypnotizing and the low timbre of his voice sends chills down her spine. She supposes it has always been this way with Killian, but having time to be aware of the way he makes her heart pound brings entirely new feelings all together.
Part of her wants to kiss him as a thank you for being here at the right time, even though she's fairly certain he's the reason she's here to begin with. If he hadn't been the last thing she saw, the last thing she thought of as she fell through that portal, she might've landed somewhere different. But if she has to be anywhere with anyone, she's glad it's here with him.
Of course, the other part of her wants to kiss him as an apology. She knows Liam is going to die, and it's the last thing both Jones brothers are expecting. If there was another way...
And the last fraction of her doesn't want to kiss him, doesn't want to admit how badly she needs him. She's moving away when she gets back home, after all.
The thoughts running through Killian's head are a mix of completely transparent and hardly understandable at all. One thing is sure. He wants to kiss her, and when he starts to lean his head in, Emma cannot help but feel a bit of pull to meet him halfway.
"It feels like I know you," he confesses, nudging his nose against hers. Emma can't fight back a smile.
"You do."
"Just who are you then, princess?"
Emma is taken back to this same jungle where Killian looked at her with those same eyes and asked her that same question. It's a harsh reminder, that this man before her, real as he is, isn't her Killian. The chemistry that sparks between the two of them is the same chemistry that has always been there. She can't lose herself to it.
Like flipping a switch, Emma pulls away. Killian's reaction is immediate, his face dropping, his back straightening. He shuffles back to give her some space, but she's already lifting her legs out of the water and turning away.
"I'm sorry, your Highness," he mumbles hardly loud enough to hear him over the flow of the waterfall. Any trace of her Killian is gone, and back is the straight-laced lieutenant too upright to do anything other than follow his given orders. But the rejection is clear on his face, the way he looks like he wants to curl into himself.
"There's nothing to apologize for," Emma responds gently. The muscles in his jaw clench. He refuses to make eye contact with her. She steps over to him, squats down to his level, and gives his cheek a gentle caress with her fingers.
"Get some sleep, lieutenant. No harm will come over you tonight." Without saying a word, he nods. If only a second, he meets her gaze, like trying to convey what propriety has forbidden him from saying. But the message is lost to Emma.
Then he rises to his feet, rolls down his pant legs, and leaves her alone with only the sound of the Lost Ones crying in the distance.
/
Liam and Killian are packed up and gone by the time Emma returns to the camp. Their fire still burns with low embers, the last traces of smoke rising into the morning air. A sick feeling settles in her stomach. She wonders if Liam is injecting himself with the dreamshade at this very moment.
Both men come marching out of the jungle to find Emma sitting in the sand with her back leaning against their rowboat. At first, she doesn't notice them, lost in her thoughts with her eyes fixed on the Jewel anchored offshore.
"The boy was right," Liam calls out to her. Emma's head snaps up. Killian has his arm slung around his brother's shoulders, the elder of the two walking somewhat slower than usual. "The Dreamshade is poison. We'll be sailing without it."
The sunlight catches a flicker of Liam's raw flesh, a new scar that has been healed on his forearm .
"How did you find that out?" she asks them. It kills her too. She knows exactly how they discovered it. Exactly what will happen as soon as the ship leaves Neverland's premises. The brothers exchange another look in their secret language.
"It matters not," Killian avoids. He reaches down a hand, an act of mechanic chivalry and nothing more. "Is there anything you need from the island before we leave?"
Emma shakes her head.
"The sooner we get away from this island, the better."
"I agree," Liam cuts in. He sweeps his hand toward the rowboat. "Everyone in!"
The men insist on rowing themselves so that Emma can, "appreciate the journey to the ship." The only thing she has eyes to appreciate is Killian rolling up his sleeves, pulling his hair back into his navy ponytail. Emma tries not to stare at the muscles in his arms contracting with each row. Her eyes rise to his face, to see that he's watching her just as hard. Through the deep breaths and strained grunts the rowing brings, Killian examines her, only this time, not in adoration, but more like she's a snake waiting to attack.
"Ah, the Jewel looks so lovely tonight," Liam comments. His ship - she'll be Killian's ship soon - truly is a marvel. From so far away, Emma hasn't had the chance to really admire her details. The Jolly Roger shows the same age and maturity that pirate Killian does, but the Jewel is so shiny and new.
"How did you become Captain?" Emma asks curiously.
"That, Highness, is a story for another night." Her heart tightens.
"What if we don't have another night?" Liam raises an eyebrow. Maybe something in her tone gave her away, but his suspicion has been piqued.
"Do you know something we don't, princess?" Killian asks a bit sharply. Liam shoots him a stern look. Emma wonders if Liam knows about what almost happened with her and Killian the night before. If he knows, he doesn't say anything.
"If I knew anything that would help you, believe me, I would tell you." Killian isn't convinced. Emma sends him a look that says Challenge me, I dare you. He doesn't. He simply straightens his back, schools his features, and continues rowing. He's silent for a moment, but whatever he's thinking changes his mind.
"Liam almost died today," he explains. "That's why I'm a bit...fractious."
"Killian," his brother scolds.
"She deserves to know."
"With all due respect your Highness," Liam says as an aside to Emma, before turning back to his brother, "she doesn't deserve to know anything." Killian is about to argue back, but a call from the deck of the Jewel interrupts them before the conversation can spiral into dangerous territory.
The ship is alive with action. Men all in the same navy blue uniform are working, preparing the ship for the journey home. She makes it aboard just in time to see the unfurling of a sail made completely of glittering feathers. Painted on it is a lose depiction of a pegasus. It's probably how the ship will fly home.
As soon as the captain is aboard deck, Emma requests to retire to her temporary quarters - the lieutenant's. Killian doesn't argue. He simply slips below deck claiming he needs to tidy the space up so that it's "lady appropriate."
The lieutenant's quarters are a bit smaller than the captain's quarters. Emma feels the walls beginning to close in on her, inch by inch, aching to crush her. What was she thinking, pretending to be a goddess? And if she makes it back to Misthaven without much trouble, then what?
Honestly, she doesn't know.
It feels like an airplane lifting off, the way the Jewel of the Realm rises from the sea and soars towards the billowing clouds. From her window, she can see Neverland disappearing into nothingness as it becomes further and further away. With any luck, she won't find herself back on the island ever again.
Through the thin walls of the ship, Emma can just barely hear the incoherent discussion between Captain and Lieutenant, mentor and pupil, brother and brother.
She waits.
She waits, and waits, and waits, but hears nothing. When Killian told her the story of his brother's death, he wasn't very specific on how long it took. The further the distance grows between the ship and the island, the surer Emma is that something is going to occur. But there's nothing. The men continue talking without interruption.
Perhaps there was nothing to worry about, then. Maybe Liam will live after all.
The ship hits the water with a massive splash, bursts of water spraying up along the side of the ship. They've officially made it out of Neverland. Emma is about to laugh in relief when she hears it, a harsh crashing sound.
Her heart stops in her chest.
"Help!" Killian screams. "Help!"
Emma's own tears surprise her. They gather in her eyes, pooling along her lids. A cry forms in her throat, threatening to be released, so Emma covers her mouth and backs up against the wall of the cabin. Men from aboard deck rush to help Killian, screaming that something happened to the captain and He was fine for hours, what happened while you were on Neverland? and Lieutenant, what happened?
And, I'm sorry Lieutenant, but he's gone. We've done all we can.
At that, Killian forces everyone out of his cabin, and it suddenly becomes very quiet. The Jewel rocks a soothing sway on the ocean, as if trying to comfort the mourning crew, the mourning brother.
But the silence is broken by an agonized wail, the raw type of weeping that builds in your chest like tension and is released like a breaking dam. It shakes Emma through her spine all the way down to her toes.
She did this. Maybe she isn't the one who stuck the thorn right in Liam's arm, but she could have stopped this. Officially, permanently damning Killian to a life of loneliness and anger feels more painful than she could have anticipated.
And the award for "worst friend" goes to...
It's how she ends up in front of his door with tear covered cheeks, a fist hovering over the door ready to knock. She gives it three gentle raps. The crying behind the door stops just long enough for Killian to yell.
"Leave me alone!"
"Lieutenant, it's me," Emma says gently. At first, he doesn't respond. Then, Emma hears the rustling of shifting around, slow and deliberate. When he opens the door to let her in, the sight of him brings tears back to her eyes.
His hair is an absolute wreck, and his eyes that normally sparkle with stardust are hazy with the aftermath of a thousand hurricanes. They're red around the edges, and the streaks of tears fall across his cheeks like their own constellations.
His lips part to say something, but his mind hasn't decided on the right words. There are none. What can he say? Nothing that Emma doesn't already know. She opens her arms, and within seconds, he collapses into them. His grip clasps her dress so tightly that his fingers shake, white at the knuckles.
Emma leads Killian into the Captain's quarters, and sits him on the cot. A sob escapes his lips as he drops his forehead onto her shoulder. She does all she can, running her fingers through his hair and down his back in gentle strokes.
"I'm sorry, Killian," she says. I'm sorry for not saving him, I'm sorry for what's going to happen to you, I'm sorry that there's no going back from this.
"Did they tell you?" he asks, voice rough from the his weeping. She shakes her head. Killian shifts back just enough to meet her gaze.
"How did you know?"
Emma's body stiffens. Guilt flashes on her face quick enough for Killian to detect it. He seems confused for a moment, but then his earlier words hang heavy in the air. Do you know something we don't, Princess? His own expression spins through a range of emotions, one after another. Disbelief, horror, shock, pain, anger.
"Did you know? Before it happened?" His voice spits daggers at her, driving a hot flash of pain through her chest. His eyes match that fire, wide and wild. Emma doesn't know if she's ever witnessed him so enraged. "You knew the bloody dreamshade was poison, didn't you?"
"Killian," Emma answers, but her voice trails off. What is she supposed to tell him? She's wracking her brain, searching for anything to say, when he draws his sword and points it between her breasts. She breathes out his name once more, this time stunned.
"That's Lieutenant Jones to you." For the first time since she's met this new Killian, she feels caught in the middle of a storm, barely able to keep her ship afloat. One wrong move could end her life. "Now answer my questions, or we'll being raising the death count to two."
"Alright," Emma agrees, lifting her arms in surrender. With Killian this angry, she knows there's no point in trying to reason with him. She just needs to do what he wants. "Ask anything."
"You're not really the Swan Princess, are you?"
"No. My name is Swan and I am a Princess, just not the one you thought I was." The point of his blade digs deeper into her chest.
"Did you know that Liam was going to die?" The answer to this question is only one word, one syllable, one affirmation, but it's locked away where Emma can't speak it. "Answer me!"
"Yes," she stutters. The betrayal is written on his face as clearly as words are printed on a paper.
"How long?"
"Killian, let me explain," she begs.
"How long?!" he repeats, stepping closer to lift the blade to her throat.
"Since before I met you." Killian nearly drops the sword, his eyes widening in the darkening cabin.
"Explain yourself," he demands. "Just who are you?"
Emma doesn't have much time to decide what to say. She could take her chances lying again, but if the truth slips, she's sure Killian wouldn't hesitate to run her through. But if she tells him the truth, will he even believe her? In either situation, there's no way to gain back his trust, especially now that he knows she could have prevented his brother's death. As the impatience rises through Killian like the high tide, Emma makes the prompt decision to tell him a limited truth. Enough to satisfy him, not enough to ruin the future completely.
"Like I said, my name is Swan. I ended up in Neverland after falling through a portal." She keeps her voice steady and even, careful to sound as truthful as possible.
"What kind of portal?" Emma bites her lip, and squeezes her eyes shut.
"A time-travel portal."
Maybe it's because he believes her, or maybe he thinks that she's too unhinged to try anything crazy, but he drops his sword. He examines her through narrow eyes.
"Time-travel. You expect me to believe that?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but you have to trust me!" she urges.
"I don't have to do anything." His grip tightens on his sword, but he doesn't aim at her quite yet. "Go on."
"I'm from...the really far off future. I was talking to the Killian Jones that I know when the portal opened, but I'm the only one that fell through. You were the last thing I saw and I think that's how I ended up here. When I saw the Joll-" she hesitates. "The Jewel, I realized that you were on the island. I knew if I sailed with you back to Misthaven that I would be one step closer to getting home. In my world, you and I are close. Really close! I don't know, it's complicated with you and I."
Killian's jaw twitches. He's looking at the air just beside her head, an internal war raging within his mind. She can see it in the way he's torn. He wants to trust her, he really does. But he doesn't know her, at least not this Killian. Still, he can't deny that something was there between them, not after what happened last night at the waterfall.
"Prove it," he says quietly.
"How?"
"Tell me something that only I would know, something that I haven't told anyone."
There's not much she doesn't know about Killian, but so much that this Killian hasn't lived through yet. What is she supposed to tell him? Well, you're about to meet the love of your life and then have to watch her die. Then you'll start your fruitless quest for vengeance, leading a life of anger and hatred.
"You were abandoned," she suddenly remembers. "Just like me. Your father left you on a ship with your brother, and sold you into slavery."
Emma watches as Killian's eyes fill with tears again, as if the sudden memory has only added to the pain. The frenzy in his eyes reaches the tipping point, a growl pouring from between his clenched teeth. He brings both hands to grip the handle of the sword, aims it where her heart beats, and trembles.
"I should kill you," he bites out.
"I wouldn't blame you for trying, but I won't go down without a fight," Emma answers in an even voice. "Put the sword down, Killian. Your brother wouldn't want this for you."
The battle rages within him, his anger the storm that threatens to sink his good heart, his good form. The bitterness raining down on him as tears on his cheeks, his hands red from gripping the blade. Emma prepares for the worst, ready to go up against Killian for a second time. Thoughts fly through her head. Maybe since Killian has less sword experience, she'd be able to best him again. But he's so angry, she doubts he would hold back.
Then, as if he's sailed into the eye of the storm, he gasps out a breath and drops the sword. The boiling anger simmers down into exhaustion.
"You said we're close?" he asks, looking utterly drained. "Where you're from, that is."
Emma's eyes dart at the weapon on the ground, then back at the beaten man before her.
"We were, but honestly, I don't know what I'll find when I make it back. If I make it back."
Killian licks his lips, murky gaze fixed on empty nothingness beside her. This isn't how Emma wanted this to pan out. Wanting to fade into an unsure, mythical memory in Killian's mind was the whole reason she pretended to be the Swan Princess to begin with. Now that she'd shared so much with him, who knows what Killian will be like when she makes it back to Storybrooke?
"Admiral!" Killian calls out, loud enough that his voice resonates across the rest of the ship. Within moments, the officer is entering the room, ready to receive orders.
"Aye Captain?"
Killian blinks, eyes narrowing in confusion. He is only a Lieutenant. Then again, now with Liam's passing, Killian is next in the line of succession, making him Captain of the Jewel of the Realm. Emma knows this is where it all begins, his path to piracy and vengeance. Remembering himself, he shakes his head and straightens his back.
"Please take the princess to the brig and see that she stays there for the remainder of our voyage."
"But sir, don't you think that-" the admiral begins to speak, but Killian lifts a silencing hand.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that men on this ship question their captain's orders." Killian steps right into the man's face, teeth bared. "Oh, that's right. They don't. If you know what's good for you, sailor, you'll do as your told without arguing."
With a scoff, the admiral grabs Emma's wrists with rough hands, only tightening his clasp when she tries to shake him off. As she's dragged away, Emma catches one last glance at Killian, but she knows.
Lieutenant Killian Jones is gone, and Dread Pirate Jones has taken his place.
/
The trip home takes three days more, and each of them Emma spends sitting in the damp, cold prison of the ship. She has hope that Killian will one day forgive her because as much as he hates her, he has sent her down extra blankets and extra dried meat. That's the extent of his compassion, though, because until the ship drops anchor, all she can do is lie on her cot and think about a plan to get back home. She's asleep when the ship drops anchor.
"Wake up, lass!" a brute voice calls at her. Emma startles awake, clenching her fist for a fight. She relaxes only slightly, seeing that the man is one of Killian's crewmen. His naval uniform is gone, dirty cotton clothes hanging off of him instead. From the brig, she hasn't been able to hear much what happens on the deck, in Killian's quarters, or even in the galley. But if she has to guess, she'd bet that Killian, and the rest of the ship, have gone pirate.
"What is it?" she asks, voice rough from lack of use. Emma pushes herself up, and makes her way to the bars of her cell.
"We've dropped anchor. Captain wants you off the ship as soon as he can get you out of his sight. No funny business."
Tired from traveling, Emma complies, knowing it's more grief than it's worth to try to fight. And for what? To teach these pirates some manners? Not likely.
Killian is leaning against a barrel when she makes it up on deck. He's definitely one step closer to being Hook now, sporting an entire garb of black leather and kohl beneath his eyes. Yanking her hands away from the man holding her, she approaches Killian. He stays completely still, save for his hand moving down to rest on his blade.
"If it's no trouble, highness," he says in a rude tease, "I'd like if you could get out of my sight and off of my ship. You'd do well to never let me see you again."
Emma speaks softly. "One day, when I make it back home to my time, I hope that the pirate I know will not have changed. I know you can still be you."
Killian inches forward a bit.
"The me that you know? He's gone. So when you go back to wherever your home is, don't expect any warmer welcome than a knife to your throat."
Her Killian's face flashes in her mind, the soft, warm way he looked at her, his confession of passion in the caves of Neverland, the hope birthed in his eyes when he saw her that day in New York. With great pain does Emma realize that he's right.
Those things - that man - is probably gone.
So without another word, Emma spins on her heels and walks down gangway. Just as she steps onto the dock, she takes one last look at Killian, rough and ragged.
It's true, she realizes. He really is a pirate.
The moment she's entirely off of the ship, a wave of magic explodes in front of her. Her vision is hazy from the bright light that burst from the blast, and she gasps. It looks like the same portal that brought her to this place. Emma is powerless to resist the familiar pull the magic has on her.
She really does try to think of home as she falls into the swirling orange energy, but the last thing she sees before the opening closes behind her is Killian racing toward her. Her name is on his lips, his hands trembling with the need to save her.
But she's already gone.
/
The portal drops Emma in front of a dirty tavern. It's night now, people bustling around her without being even remotely aware that a woman just fell from the sky.
Well, it's certainly not Storybrooke, Maine. And if she had to guess, based on the last thing she saw, Emma would guess that somewhere nearby, she'd be able to find Killian Jones. She doesn't know how much time has passed since she last saw him. For her, it's only been seconds. For him, though, it could have been hundreds of years. The good news, though, is that she seems to have caught him either before or after he spent hundreds of years on Neverland plotting revenge. The last place she wants to end up is that terrible island with an angry pirate as her only help.
Getting up from the muddy ground, Emma sees that her white dress from Neverland is now a filthy grayish brown color, but at least she still has her modern clothes, including her favorite red jacket. For now, she'll use what she has left in her satchel to purchase herself a new dress, something less...princessy. Pushing open the door of the pub, Emma scans the room.
She doesn't see Hook anywhere...Until she does.
He's sitting at a table near the back, rolling what she bets are loaded dice. He has women on either side of him, but he doesn't seem to be noticing the way their hands roam across his chest and back. A bitter taste forms in Emma's mouth at the sight of it.
Not wanting to cause a scene, Emma works her way up to the bar and sits at the counter. She asks the barmaid for some clean clothes ("I'm a barmaid, not a seamstress. " to which Emma replies "Yeah, but you're wearing clothes. I'll pay you for anything you can give me.") Once she changes in the closet, Emma runs her fingers through her messy hair and tries to cover her face with it.
She'll wait until Killian leaves, or is at least alone, before confronting him.
It takes a few hours, and half a tankard of rum, before one of Killian's wench's whispers something in his ear that makes him lick his lips. Emma can see his eyes darken from across the room. He saunters upstairs first, while the wench prepares some drinks to take up with her.
Perfect! If Emma can get up there before the other woman does, she might be able to talk to him, ask him what time this is. With any luck, Rumplestiltskin will be alive and he can help her create a time-traveling spell to get back home.
There's a few bedrooms above the bar, but only one with the door shut. Emma takes a deep breath, then raps her knuckles three times against the door.
"By all means, darling, don't be shy. Come on in." Yep, definitely Killian Jones.
Bracing herself for the worst, and reminding herself why she's here, Emma turns the knob and pushes the door open. She gasps. She isn't sure quite what she expected to find when she entered the room, but she knows it certainly isn't the sight before her.
Killian Jones lays on the bed, moonlight dripping from the window onto his completely naked body. The only thing he wears is his brace and hook, along with a dropped jaw.
"Bloody hell."