On Tuesday, Hook arrived at the coffee shop early, purchased a black coffee, and slipped into a chair at a table near the back. It wasn't terribly crowded, but in case Swan kept the date and made a scene, he didn't want to be in the center of the shop. He shifted uncomfortably as he waited for his beverage to cool down.

It wasn't as though he'd had any particular expectations when he received the message asking him to find Swan. He just hadn't thought through any particular plan, besides finding her and talking to her. And that meant that when he'd shown up at her door on a Sunday morning, and she'd agreed (at least, as far as he was supposed to know) to meet with him the following Tuesday, he had to consider such mundane issues as where he would sleep and what he would eat.

He knew from his short time in Storybrooke that, while Granny accepted gold coins, the Land Without Magic operated on a different currency system. Fortunately, the city appeared to be full of shops offering to purchase gold in exchange for cash. He received what seemed like an excellent estimate on a single coin from one such shop, which appeared to sell jewelry as well, and managed to sell several of his coins for what seemed (based on the shopkeeper's facial expressions, tone, and language) to be a significant sum of money. Just in case he was incorrect, and because he still had plenty of gold left over, he made a similar transaction at a similar shop in another part of the city.

A place to stay posed a challenge. He found a reputable-looking inn, but even though he could afford their rates, he lacked the identification that was apparently necessary for him to secure a room. He also clearly needed to find more suitable attire for the Land Without Magic; the staff at the inn were throwing him some of the dirtiest looks he'd ever received, which surprised him given that they weren't even aware of his history as a bloodthirsty pirate.

Eventually, his wanderings brought him to a part of the city that, against all odds, looked familiar. He knew he wasn't very far away from Swan's place; his sense of direction was excellent, and he'd written her address down just in case, but he was trying to avoid getting lost and becoming unable to get back to her. But he was definitely not near her dwelling, and for several minutes, he wondered if the city might finally driving him mad.

He had not gone mad; he had simply stumbled upon Bae's old apartment building. Much to his delight and surprise (after breaking in and making sure he was, in fact, in the right apartment), he found the living space furnished and uninhabited. And covered in dust, with some very smelly items in the cupboards and the strange little cold closet, but it was a small price to pay for otherwise free lodging.

Bae had clearly planned to return to New York City at some point; the apartment was still filled with his belongings, including plenty of clothing. Hook felt a little strange trying on Bae's clothes, but everything fit well enough and felt comfortable. He wore some of the clothes to a large indoor market and received no awkward stares, and that was enough for him.

The market was overwhelming. Most of the food for sale were delicacies he'd never heard of before, and it was unnerving the way that some of the items were kept cold. He mostly purchased fruits and vegetables he knew would keep for a while, and some bread and dried meat. Finally, for the sake of living a little in this strange new land, and because he could tell from the listed prices that he wasn't going to make a dent in his newly acquired store of money, he purchased a few mysterious items that he saw several other customers buying. Returning to Bae's apartment, he got to work, putting the food into cupboards (some of it he tried putting in the cold closet, just in case), clearing the dust, and airing out some of the clothing and bedding on the staircase outside the window. On his way upstairs, after being let in by another person leaving the building, he'd spotted a resident placing refuse in a chute marked "TRASH," and he made use of it as he cleaned.

And then there was nothing to do but wait.

He read a little, the books he'd saved before trading away the Jolly. He walked around the busy, dirty city, trying to get a better idea of how people lived and functioned in this realm. And he found himself walking by Swan's apartment, on the off-chance that he would see her, Bae, or Henry and observe them. He never did.

And so on Tuesday, dressed in an outfit he hoped made him look trustworthy and presentable, and alternating between sipping his coffee and self-consciously tugging at the glove on his prosthetic, he waited in the coffee shop, wondering if she was going to show up.

But at twelve-thirty exactly, she walked into the shop. He sagged with relief momentarily—she was here—before tensing up again almost immediately (she was here). She spotted him immediately, and he nodded at her, but instead of coming to the table, she went to the counter first. A few minutes later, she sat down with him, setting down a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon with one hand, and an elaborate and large pastry with the other.

"What do you know about my parents?" she asked, again getting right to the point.

"They're in trouble, and they need your help," he answered, truthfully.

"I'm not in the mood to have a kidney stolen," she replied, arching an eyebrow. What on earth was she talking about? "Not a fan of 'Lost,' I take it," she added before taking a sip of her chocolate.

"They're in Maine. I can take you to them."

"Where in Maine?"

"It's called Storybrooke."

She laughed. "All right, buddy. I guess my husband was right. Thanks for trying." She stood up and began collecting her food and beverage.

He shot up from the table. "Please, believe me, it's a real place. I can take you there."

"Why would I go with you anyway?" she asked. "You want me to go grab my husband and son and get in the car with you?"

"Well," he paused, scratching his ear nervously. "Yes, actually." He wasn't going to separate Henry from his family. That wasn't what was best for Swan, and it wasn't what was best for Henry.

"I need some proof," she said slowly, sitting back down. "Can you tell me what my parents names are?"

"David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard," he recited, returning to his own seat. Such bland names for some of the most interesting characters in the Enchanted Forest. Then again, it seemed as if David was, in fact, the prince's real name, but it was all so very confusing with the curse and everything.

"What do they do for a living?"

"I'm not sure about your mother," he said, "but your father is sheriff."

"And why did they abandon me at the side of the road?" She held his gaze and took another sip of her beverage. "Why should I help them if they couldn't even be bothered to bring me to a hospital when they deserted me?"

He paused. "I don't think you're ready to hear about that," he admitted. The details of the first curse seemed difficult to convey.

"I've been waiting to hear about that my entire life. Humor me."

He shook his head. "Listen, they're in grave danger, and you're the only one who can help them. I swear to you, upon whatever you'd wish me to swear on, that I am not lying to you. Use your superpower and tell me if I'm lying."

She was visibly surprised; it was surreal to see her without her emotions guarded so religiously behind her walls. "Have I apprehended you before or something?" she asked suspiciously. "How do you know about that?"

"The same way I know who your parents are. The same way I know that you have a flower tattoo on your wrist."

"You could have seen the tattoo." She tugged on her coat sleeve nervously.

"You're wearing a coat and gloves, love," he pointed out. "And the other day, your night clothes had long sleeves as well. Long enough that I also couldn't have seen the bootlace you wear around your wrist."

"How—" she paused before standing up abruptly. "Clearly, you've been stalking me. I don't care who you are, or why you're doing it, but I take down perps for a living. So stay away from me, stay away from my family, and be prepared for a world of pain if you don't."

"Swan, please, wait!" he called after her as she stormed out of the coffee shop. Other patrons turned to look.

"It's not 'Swan!'" she shouted back before exiting.

He rushed out of the shop after her, but by the time he reached her building's door, she was already gone. He waited a few minutes, hoping that he'd be fortunate again and someone else would inadvertently let him inside. But no one did. He went back into the coffee shop, relieved that at least his coat hadn't been stolen, and slowly walked back to Bae's apartment.

It had fallen apart so quickly. She had clearly trusted him enough to meet with him in the first place, but showing her that he knew her had upset her. He would need to try something else.

The following day, he walked through parts of the city again, trying to come up with a new way to get to Swan. Perhaps if he jogged her memory with …

… No, that wouldn't work. She believed she was married to Bae—that she was in love with Bae. So it did not matter that he loved her so desperately that he had given up his home for a chance to see her again. As long as she didn't remember him, and as long as she believed she loved Bae, there was no hope that a simple kiss would bring back her old memories.

He angrily kicked at a rock on the sidewalk. Swan believed she and Bae were in love. It wasn't fair, to her or to him or to anyone. It might have been what was best for Henry, or at least what was best for him while he was separated from Regina, but it wasn't right. He remembered that glance Swan had given him when Regina explained that she and Bae and Henry would be a family. She did not look hopeful.

And what reason did she have to be hopeful? She would be torn apart from her family, left without even the memory of their reunion. She would be playing wife to a man who had broken her heart so thoroughly that she no longer trusted anyone. She would be separated from him

Although that, he knew, was wishful thinking. As much as their kiss had meant to him, he had quickly learned that it hadn't meant the same to her. At most, she could miss their friendship, and even then, it seemed unlikely that she would miss him more than anyone else she'd left behind.

And yet he was tasked with retrieving her. Clearly someone thought he was the right person for the job.

After stopping for something called "pizza," which was unbelievably delicious, he returned to the apartment without any sort of plan. Perhaps he could travel to Storybrooke himself and get help—but how would he get there? Even then, he knew that memory spells were hard to break; even if Regina were willing to help—if she had even been cursed into Storybrooke again—she likely couldn't undo the spell. It was a curse, even if it was meant to be a blessing.

He was bathing himself in the stall in the washroom (he desperately missed the Jolly, but this supposedly non-magical technology was absolutely stellar) when an obscene buzzing noise filled the apartment. He had no idea what it meant, but as he padded through the apartment, drying himself off, there was a knock at the door. Using his hand and his left wrist, he secured his towel around his waist.

The look on Swan's face when he opened the door was priceless.