Emma was staring out across the grandly titled "lake" – it was more of a pond, really, but apparently to the residents of Storybrooke it counted as a lake – when she heard footsteps, and knew that he'd found her. She sighed as the footsteps crunched over the gravel, coming closer to the bench she'd picked.

"Hey."

"Hey." David Nolan, better known as Prince Charming, came into view and bent down to peer at her face. "Thought I'd find you here."

Emma pressed her lips together. She didn't need to ask how he knew these things. He knew them because he paid attention – to her, to what she did, what she said, how she felt.

What still surprised her, every time, was that he bothered. That he cared enough to bother.

David claimed the seat beside her. "Still no luck with the hat?"

"Belle's working on it." She gave him a thin smile. "Turns out it didn't really come with an instruction manual."

"I thought Hook knew how to use it."

"He knew how to point it at whoever Gold told him to point it at, that's about it." Emma clenched her fist. She didn't want to think about that now.

"Is that why you're mad at him?" He smiled when she looked surprised. "You came here to think, rather than down to the shore, so I'm guessing the two of you had words."

Emma shook her head, but she couldn't quite hide the smile. Because he knew. "Right." She blew out a breath. "No. I'm not mad. Well, I am, but not because of that."

"What happened?"

She hesitated, but she'd just experienced firsthand how it felt to not be trusted, and she'd had enough of secrets. She gave him the short version, beginning with Killian's blackmail attempt, and ending with, "It's the same as with Zelena. He should have told me."

David frowned. "Why did he do it to begin with? I mean, I get wanting his hand back, but he of all people should know better than to make deals with the Dark One."

Emma pursed her lips. Trust David to cut straight to the bit she didn't want to talk about. "He said it was for me. Which is stupid," she hurried to add, "because if I didn't want to date a guy with a hook, I wouldn't have asked him out to begin with."

"True." David gave a little nod, looking thoughtful. "Sounds like an excuse."

That wasn't entirely fair either, much as Emma hated to admit it. "It's not."

"But why would he think that?" David insisted. "He should know better."

"Well..." Emma ran a hand through her hair, but there was no way around this one. "I did say it before. About him only having one hand. When we went after Zelena, remember?"

"Ah." David didn't look overly surprised, only nodding again.

"But he knows why I said that," she insisted. "And besides, even if I meant it, which I didn't, it would still be his fault because he made the deal with Gold. If he'd asked me, I'd never have wanted that."

David's brow furrowed, and he got that protective look on his face. "You think he's blaming you for the whole thing?"

When he put it that way, it sounded all kinds of wrong. "No, no," she said quickly. "He wouldn't have apologised for it if he didn't think it was his fault. I just—" She broke off, shaking her head. "He didn't tell me. He didn't trust me. How can we – I mean, what's the point if he doesn't trust me?"

"Ah, there it is." David's voice was gentle now, and it struck her that he sounded a little too understanding, a little too much like he'd expected this. Any accusation was gone from his tone, almost as though it had never been there at all. "That's what's bothering you, right?"

Emma said nothing. She might have admitted it to herself, but that didn't mean she was ready to say it out loud. It scared her, really, how much this meant to her. Damn pirate and his perseverance and his uncanny ability to get to her.

David reached to put an arm around her, and pulled her closer despite her show of resistance. "Come here."

She gave in and let her head rest against his shoulder. It was warm, and solid, and real, and she felt tears sting at her eyes.

"You know," David went on, his voice vibrating softly in his chest, "trust is something you have to build. It doesn't just happen. You've got to work at it. Trust takes honesty, and honesty takes trust, so you've gotta build it up bit by bit."

"I thought we had."

"Well, you trust him, right?"

"Yeah."

"See? That's a good start." His arm tightened around her. "But that took a long time, as I recall."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut. It had taken more than just a long time. She'd never made a conscious decision to trust him, it had just happened, and she'd never thought about the fact that while he'd given her plenty of reason to trust him, she hadn't done the same for him.

Until about an hour ago, when he'd all but thrown it in her face.

The idea that she'd messed this up already was terrifying.

"Which is understandable," David went on. "After everything you've been through... and he is a pirate."

He said it lightly, with no real judgement. Emma wasn't the only one who'd come to trust the infamous Captain Hook.

"I just..." She had to pause for a few seconds to make sure that her voice would hold, and even then she almost reconsidered saying it. "I'm not good at this."

She didn't elaborate, but she didn't need to. David pulled back so he could look at her. "It's like I said. You've got to work on it. You are working on it. He might not have trusted you with the truth before, but he just did it now."

"After he basically got caught."

"That's not the point. The only thing you got mad about is that he didn't trust you to begin with, right?"

"Yeah."

"And that's the point. That's how you build trust. After Zelena's trickery, you got mad at him for what he did. This time, he saw that you don't care about that, that you believe him. So next time..."

She saw where he was going with it, and it made sense, but she still heaved a sigh at how complicated it all was.

David smiled. "Hey. He does trust you enough to yell back at you in an argument. Don't undervalue that."

She conceded that with a helpless chuckle. "Yeah. I know. It's just... I don't know."

Her father nodded. "I do. You mess up, and you worry: what if I keep messing up? What if I can't do this? What if she—he—decides it's not worth it? But listen."

He reached for her, putting a hand on her shoulder, his blue eyes intense with sincerity. "You are worth it. Trust me on that. If he can't see it, he's not worth it. I waited twenty-eight years to see you again, and it was worth every minute."

He looked, and sounded, so damn sure. Emma had to fight more tears. If anyone had told her, a few years ago, that being cared for and having a home was almost harder to deal with, to accept, than being abandoned, she would have scoffed at them. But there it was. It still made her cry, every time.

Her phone began to ring, saving her from the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her. She pushed away from her father, surreptitiously wiping away a couple of runaway tears as she reached for her pocket.

It was her mother.

"Emma? We need you at the loft. Is David with you?"

"Yeah." Emma frowned as she pressed the phone to her ear. There were voices in the background, sounding worried and hectic. "What's going on?"

"Hook and Leroy just brought Ariel and Eric here. They said something ab—"

"Wait, Ariel?" Emma was already on her feet and gesturing for David to follow her. "I thought she was—"

"Back in our land, I know. Something's happened. I'm not sure..."

Someone else spoke, coming closer to Snow's phone, and Emma recognised the voice as Killian's. "... talk to her?"

Snow again: "Hold on, I'm handing you ov—Killian, it's this way up." There was a brief scuffle as she apparently handed the phone to the pirate.

"Swan?" His voice was all business, no trace of any resentment or anger he may have still been feeling. "I'm afraid we may have something of a situation. Ariel claims that Davy Jones has managed to traverse the realms and is headed for Storybrooke."

"Davy Jones?" Emma echoed, feeling her eyes widen. "As in the guy with the face full of tentacles?"

"Tentacles?" He sounded completely puzzled. By now, Emma knew what that meant: he hadn't seen the movie, and once again, the movie had gotten a few things wrong. "No, the kraken is the one with the tentacles, love."

Her eyes widened further. "There's a kraken, too?"

David was keeping pace with her and shooting her worried glances, so she put Killian on speaker and held the phone out in front of her as they hurried along the path.

"I hope rather fervently that we can avoid that," Killian was saying. "But given our track record so far, I wouldn't bet on it."

"We're on our way," Emma told him. "See you there."

"Aye." There was more scuffling, followed by a distant "how the bloody hell do you hang this one?" before the line went dead.

Emma shoved the phone back into her pocket and looked at David. Neither of them said a word as they broke into a run.

By the time Emma and David reached the loft, the panic she'd heard through the phone seemed to have calmed down somewhat. Snow was standing behind the kitchen island, making tea and occasionally glancing at Killian, who was leaning against the other side of the counter. He was rocking baby Neal on one arm, having apparently just managed to calm the boy down from a crying fit, and talking to Snow in a hushed voice.

At the other end of the room, a red-haired young woman was kneeling by the bed, her eyes glued to the dark-haired man lying in it. They, too, were talking quietly.

"Oh, you're here," Snow exclaimed, relief evident on her face. "Leroy's gone to help evacuate everyone from the harbour and anywhere near the shore, just in case, and I called Regina. She'll pick Henry up from school and keep him safe."

"Safe from what, exactly?" Emma asked. "You're really telling me that Davy Jones is coming to Storybrooke?"

The last was addressed mostly to Killian, who shrugged and gestured towards Ariel with his hook, a slightly forced smile on his face. "I'm just the messenger, love."

Emma shook her head. The last – and only – time she'd seen Ariel was when she'd watched through the mirror as the mermaid reunited with her prince. "What happened? You just helped her find Eric a few weeks ago."

Killian looked uncomfortable. "Like I said before, that wasn't my doing. In fact, the truth is rather different—"

"And you're soaked," Emma cut him off as she focused on him properly. It wasn't quite true, but he did look like he'd just emerged from the shower. His hair was sticking up every which way from being towelled, and if she wasn't mistaken, that was one of David's flannel shirts he was wearing. It was black and red with a little bit of white, and she vaguely recalled her mother debating whether or not to throw it out, since David never wore it. "Are you—What did you do?"

"He saved Eric and me from drowning," Ariel said as she came up to join them. She smiled at Emma. "Hi. You must be Emma. I'm Ariel."

Emma managed a brief smile back. "Hi. Nice to—wait, drowning? Aren't you a mermaid?"

Ariel's smile turned a little sheepish. "Even mermaids can be pulled down to Davy Jones' locker. If Hook hadn't shown up when he did, we'd both be down there now." She looked up at the pirate. "How did you do that, by the way? You showed up, and somehow, whatever was pulling us down just let go when you came closer. Why didn't it grab you, too?"

Killian looked confused. "I merely helped get Eric to the surface."

Ariel shook her head, damp curls flying around her face. "No, I could have done that myself. You did something."

"Yes." Killian's voice took on a note of strained patience. "I dove in, grabbed Eric, and pulled him to the surface. It did feel like something was holding onto him, but if there was, it retreated of its own accord. I did nothing."

"You saved him. You saved us both." Ariel gave him a look that was part challenge, part defiance. "I knew there was something to the stories, after all."

Emma wasn't sure what exactly passed between them, then, but she saw the guilt that flashed across Killian's face. "You remember?"

"Yeah." Ariel looked down. "I remember."

Emma knew what that referred to – the lost year, the one she'd spent in New York. Killian had spent it trying to recover his past life as a pirate. Evidently, he'd run across Ariel in that time. And done what?

Ariel was in love with Eric, Emma reminded herself. And besides, it was in the past. Walsh was in that same past. It was unlikely. And it didn't matter.

But she couldn't seem to let the thought go.

"I'm sorry," Killian said, his voice turning a little scratchy. "I'm so sorry, Ariel. I was wrong. About everything. I—"

"Do you even know what you did?" Ariel cut him off. "I wouldn't have needed to trade with Davy Jones if you'd helped me! Why couldn't you just help me?"

Emma looked from one to the other, totally at a loss now. Killian seemed to remember that they had an audience, and he seemed to resign himself to something. "Wait, we... I need to talk to you, Swan. In fact, perhaps the three of us ought to talk."

Without a word, David took Neal from Killian while Snow glanced at Ariel, then at her husband. Sending a brief smile at Emma, Snow took the tea she'd made over to Eric, while David wandered after her, gently rocking his son.

"Okay, spill," Emma said. "Why did Ariel need help from Davy Jones? Was that about Eric? I thought you two figured that out."

Killian squeezed his eyes shut briefly. "She was never here, Swan. It was just one of Zelena's tricks, conjured to manoeuvre me into saying what she needed in order to curse me."

"What?" Emma stared at him, then narrowed her eyes. "So you lied."

He couldn't quite meet her gaze. "Technically, I merely avoided telling you the truth. I wanted to, but I couldn't, not without exposing what Zelena had done. Had I done that, she would have come after your family. After your boy." He looked down, fingers playing with his hook. "And afterwards – you said that the past didn't matter, and I didn't want to drag it back up. I'm not proud of what I did."

"What happened?"

He told her. In that same scratchy, regret-filled voice, he told her what he'd done, embellishing nothing, leaving out nothing. He'd traded a man's life for his ship.

"Why?" she asked when he wound down. "Why would you do that?"

"Because it was all I had left," he said. Emma could see the guilt of it weighing him down, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. His jaw clenched. "I thought I could go back to how it was, reclaim my old life, before..." He pressed his lips together and briefly glanced at Emma. "Before you."

He blew out a slightly shaky breath. "It didn't work. It just made it worse. The only reason why I no longer regret it is that having the ship meant I had a way back to you."

Emma clenched her hands, physically restraining herself from reaching for him. She couldn't, not now. Everything in her wanted to touch him, comfort him, do something to make that look go away.

But now was not the time. It never is, a voice inside her pointed out. She did her best to ignore it. She couldn't. Not here, not now, not with the last argument still hanging between them.

"So you do have a heart, after all," Ariel said softly.

Killian swallowed, hard. "Aye. I'm sorry. I really, truly am. I wish I could take it back. If I can make it up to you, I will."

"Don't." Ariel held up a hand. "Don't. You don't owe me." She blew out a breath. "I betrayed you to him, you know. To Davy Jones. I told him how to find you." She burst into tears. "I didn't—I was so angry! And he said he'd help me get to Eric, and I thought, you deserved it... I didn't know he only wanted you in order to get to all of Storybrooke. I should never have made the deal. I was just as selfish as you were."

That didn't sound good at all. Guilt and regrets aside, this sounded like very bad news. "What do you mean, all of Storybrooke?" Emma demanded. "What does he want?"

"The only thing Davy Jones ever wants," Ariel said, looking at her with tear-filled eyes. "He's after souls. Cursed souls, to drag down to his locker.

"And he knows that Storybrooke is full of them."