Okay, guys. I'm back with a second chapter. I decided I just couldn't wait for Into the Deep :) I give you fair warning, however: storyline action will be at a minimum, as my writer's brain refuses to get Emma, Snow and Killian to Storybrooke without knowing the REAL details first. But this installment is far from boring, I promise…there will be plenty going on. And as a special treat, I switch from Killian's point of view to Emma's.

P.S. All the love you guys are giving this story gives me so much warm fuzzies it makes me want to cry…and it makes me proud to call myself a Captain Swan shipmate.

Disclaimer: (Sorry, forgot to add this in Chapter One.) I own neither Emma, Killian, or the world(s) created by Eddy Kitsis and Adam Horowitz. Also, the snippets of Peter Pan and Wendy included here are based upon what I remember from the book…they are most likely not accurate, as I don't own the book and it's been ages since it's been in my hands!

And so, without further ado, here is Chapter Two.

Emma didn't complain when Killian fell silent and they continued walking without much conversation.

The honorable thing, huh? He's not lying, there. But he's not telling the whole truth. Captain Hook growing a conscience…since when?

Something stirred in her memory. Snippets and flashes of an old, well-worn copy of Peter Pan and Wendy that had found its way into her hands in her pre-teen years. "…he was a man obsessed with form…James Hook had been, in fact, educated at Eaton College, where he became enamoured of the code of the gentleman…a smile graced the captain's face, even as he fell to the waiting crocodile. "This proves all, Peter!" he cried. "That in the end, you betray good form for a bad one!"

And even the pirates in those Disney Caribbean movies had A Code, she thought. She gave her head a little shake to clear it. Where'd your head go to, Emma? Where did all that come from?

She sent an annoyed look in Killian's direction, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were focused on the path ahead, and judging by the way his jaw was set, he was still in considerable pain.

Damn pirate's getting to me.

Within a few minutes of walking, they reached a place where a small, bubbling stream ran across the path. Off a little ways to the side stood a huge tree with an enormous, hollowed-out base, its giant roots sprawling out in all directions. It looked as if it could accommodate a party of weary travelers quite comfortably.

Snow cast a glance up into the sky. "The evening star's high. We should rest for a few hours."

"I agree," said Mulan. She pointed at the hollowed-out tree. "We may make camp here. The tree should provide enough shelter for at least some of us. I shall take first watch."

"Nonsense," said Snow firmly. "Mulan, you have been doing more than your fair share this venture. Don't think I haven't noticed. I shall take the first watch, and if you wish, I shall wake you for the second."

Mulan nodded. "Very well. I thank you, Your Highness."

Snow smiled and nodded, checking the string of her bow and taking her seat on a large rock that sat in front and to the side of the tree.

Aurora and Mulan headed inside the tree and began to make themselves comfortable on the dry leaves that littered the ground. Emma began to follow, helping Killian with her, but he suddenly pulled up short.

"If you don't mind, Emma, I think I'll sleep outside the tree. It looks to be too small to house four."

Emma gave him a look that was half-annoyed and half "don't be silly". "Hook, you're hurt, and are you kidding—there's plenty of room!"

He shook his head stubbornly and began to pull his left arm out of its place around her shoulders, lowering himself to the ground, and promptly uttered a muffled cry and clutched his wound. Emma caught his hook as it left her shoulders in one hand and seized his arm with her other.

"Hook, this is stupid! Get in the—tree!"

This COULD NOT get any more bizarre.

Killian firmly wrenched both his hook and his arm out of her hands, and proceeded to stretch himself out on the ground, his face twisting a little with pain. "I'm not moving, darling," he said, that infuriating smile of his actually managing to make an appearance through the pain. "And I'd abide by my wishes, if I were you. As you've so accurately put it, I've been hurt, and you run the risk of causing me further harm if you try to drag me to the tree by force."

Emma took a deep breath to try and stem the tide of her rising blood pressure. "Fine. Fine. I tried. Don't blame me if it rains and you catch a cold."

She turned in a huff and ducked inside the tree, kicking up more leaves than was probably necessary as she tossed this way and that, trying to find a comfortable spot.

"Damn pirate," she growled.

Mulan opened an eye. "Did you say something, Emma?"

"No. Sorry if I woke you."

When Emma woke, Aurora was leaving the tree hollow as golden, early morning light filled the forest. A good-sized fire was crackling and burning merrily a little ways from the tree, and the smell of something delicious cooking filled Emma's nose.

"Good morning, everyone," she yawned, stretching as she left the hollow.

"Good morning," said Aurora.

"Sleep well?" said Snow.

Emma nodded. "What's that I smell?"

From over the fire, Mulan lifted a long stick holding what looked like five tiny, shish-kabobbed chickens from its place across two "Y" shaped sticks.

"Turkey," said Mulan. "Young ones. Snow had the good fortune to come across them early this morning."

"Wow…tiny things. Good shooting."

Snow acknowledged Emma's praise with a nod and a smile, thrusting five small sticks into the fire and promptly pulling them back out again. Between them, she and Mulan got each of the small birds onto each of the small sticks, and started passing them around. After giving one to Emma, Snow went over to Killian, who was now sitting against the large rock where she had kept watch during the night, bent down and handed another of the baby turkeys to him.

"Here you go, Hook," she said with a kind smile.

"Thank you, milady," he said, accepting it from her.

Breakfast was a messy affair for Emma. Bones, bones, bones. For each mouthful there seemed to be at least half a dozen bones, and by the time she got through half of it she had almost swallowed three. She still had a lot left by the time everyone finished, and she threw the rest of hers into the fire in disgust, going over to the stream to clean her hands.

"Ruddy waste, love," Killian protested from behind her.

She rolled her eyes. "Not the way I see it. I'm not eating anything that threatens to choke me at every bite."

"We should get going," said Snow.

Everyone started gathering up their things, and Emma put Killian's left arm around her shoulders again as she helped him up.

Walking along the forest path by day was a whole different affair. Emma was constantly amazed by the vividness of color in her mother's world. The leaves seemed a brighter emerald, and the rainbow of colors in the flowers and animal life were more jewel-like hues.

Maybe the whole freaking place is sprinkled with fairy dust.

Killian seemed to be in just as much pain today as he was yesterday.

"Hook? Do you need to stop for a bit?"

"No," he gasped through gritted teeth.

"Did anyone check your wound this morning? Maybe I should—"

"It's fine, Emma. The warrior maid Mulan inspected it and pronounced me able to travel."

Emma didn't press him. If he didn't want to talk, fine.

"Tell me about your son," he said suddenly.

She blinked. "Sorry?"

"Your son, back in Storybrooke. How is he also Regina's son?"

Is he really asking me this? Why is he curious all of a sudden? Well, if nothing else it might distract him for a while…

"His name is Henry. I had him when I was really young, and when I gave him up for adoption, Regina was the one who adopted him."

Geez. She thought it would be easy to talk about it, but actually saying it…suddenly the emotions were very close and very real again.

"Regina raised him," she said, feeling a tremor in her voice, accompanied by a sting in her eyes. "In Storybrooke, for ten years. On my twenty-eighth birthday, Henry came and found me, brought me back with him to Storybrooke."

She paused for a minute as a lump grew in her throat. "Henry is…he's a really bright kid. Smart. Really, really brave. The curse made everyone forget who they really were, and once he figured it out, he never stopped believing. He never stopped trying to help me believe, too. He—"

Killian suddenly stopped short. Emma's stomach did a little uneasy flip-flop as she saw that he had gone very, very pale.

"Hook?"

Without warning he fell to his knees, pitched forward onto his good right hand, and retched violently on the forest floor.

"Mary-Margaret!" Emma shouted, kneeling beside him.

And then she saw the small pool of blood on the forest path.

Killian collapsed onto his side with a shuddering groan and rolled onto his back as the others came running.

"Emma! What's wrong?" Snow demanded.

She looked up at her. "Must have been some really bad chicken. Hook's coughing up blood."

"It's not the fowl," Mulan said, kneeling on Killian's other side and wrenching open his long coat and then the leather vest. "Did no one examine his wound this morning?"

"He said you did!" Emma said.

Mulan cursed. "He told me Snow already had." She lifted the wadded-up, blood-soaked scarf from the wound, and her expression became gravely serious. "The wound is poisoned."

"What?"

"Look."

The bleeding had slowed considerably, no doubt thanks to the elf-ash root he had taken the previous night; it was no longer gushing, but the edges of the wound were an eerie, sickly green.

I know, guys! It's an evil cliffie, I'm sorry! But the story's not over yet. I would never willingly kill Killian, and if I were writing Once I would grant him and Emma and Snow and Charming and Henry eternal life…but I don't write Once X(

I'll update soon, I promise!

Review, review, review!

~Elizabeth