Hey guys! Just a reminder this is AU(ish).

Also thanks so much for your reviews, I'm blown away by the positive feedback for my first OUAT fic. You guys have been beyond awesome.

This sucker is a doozy in length. I really didn't want to break up Killian and Emma's part, so you got an 9,000 word + update. Go ahead and grab a glass of wine maybe a brick of chocolate…I'll wait.

Oh and as always thanks for reading and please REVIEW! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time.

Part 3: Emma and Killian

Portland, Oregon Early November 2001

Emma's eyes fluttered open and she immediately winced with the effort. Her body felt stiff, her limbs heavy—dull aching pain consumed her. There was a soft annoying beeping noise next to her head and she could hear the gentle murmurings of hushed voices somewhere nearby. Glancing around, she realized with some surprise that she was in a hospital. Panic quickly welled up inside of her as her brain struggled to remember what had happened to land her there. But before anxiety could get the best of her, a quiet voice knocked her out of her puzzled shock.

"Hey you're up…I'll call for the doctor."

Emma turned her head to the side, her muscles protesting with the effort as she let her eyes fall on a boy who sat in a chair next to her bed. He was young, about her age, with kind brown eyes that were swimming with barely masked concern. A flash of recognition swept into her brain for a moment before it quickly fled, leaving with it nothing but a trail of questions.

"I hope you stay awake this time." At her silence he grinned at her, "you were in a car accident, you've been in and out. Hit your head pretty badly…cracked a few ribs…got some nasty bruises...I guess you're lucky that's it. You looked pretty messed up." His tone was friendly and easy as if he hadn't just delivered her some pretty jacked up information. Reaching over to the table next to him, he grabbed a pitcher of water and pouring her a cup, offered it to her with a smile.

She took it wordlessly, cringing with the slight movement and holding the cup to her lips, stared at him hard. "Who are you?" her voice came out scratchy, the raspy sound barely recognizable to her ears.

A variety of emotions flashed across the stranger's face, relief, regret, sadness, before he masked them with a warm smile. "You don't remember?"

Emma sat back in the bed—her brain was so foggy and hazy it hurt to think. "No, no I don't remember anything. The last thing I can clearly remember is…God my birthday…how long ago was that? What's today's date?" A brief moment of clarity registered in her suddenly—she remembered his kind face and an extended hand. But just as abruptly as it came, it was lost, fading away fast. "Wait…I…um were you there?"

A look of slight wariness crossed over his features but he quickly replaced it with another smile. "That's the night we met."

"Oh huh…umm I don't think I remember."

The boy smiled brightly and leaned towards her slightly, a mischievous look flashing in his dark brown eyes. Something inside of her perked up at the sight, whispered that she knew that look but before she could place it—it was gone again.

"You tried to steal my car."

Emma felt her eyes widen while her mouth dropped open at his words. "I…um…" she wracked her brain for the memory, dull images of sitting on her bed at home, depressed and upset about the state of her life flashed in front of her and then after that, everything was hazy and blurred around the edges…she remembered nothing.

She wanted to argue with him, she wanted to cry foul, call him out for messing with her. Stealing a car was a big deal. Would she have risked that? But as his accusation sunk in she closed her eyes for a moment. Even though her brain was fuzzy—she couldn't forget how miserable she'd been that night…how horribly she had wanted to get away from her foster family. And if she were being completely honest with herself—she knew how to wire a car…one of her foster brother's had taught her when she was fourteen and living in the city. The notion that she had tried to get the heck out of dodge by stealing a car wasn't something she could honestly say surprised her.

"Um I'm sorry?" she said, the words coming out as a question. She couldn't help but wonder why he was sitting by her bedside if she had tried to rip him off.

"Nah, don't worry about it…I wasn't too upset."

She narrowed her eyes surprised by his words. "You weren't?"

He shrugged and gave her a little smile; "no…I had stolen it before you."

Emma stared at him for a moment, her eyes widening as she processed what he'd told her. Shaking her head, she could barely contain her disbelieving laugh. "That's—that's ridiculous."

Settling back into his chair, he played with the cuff of his sweatshirt for a moment before glancing back up at her. "So you wanna hear our story?"

Gingerly, Emma leaned even further back into the bed, quirking her lips up into a sardonic smile, she shrugged. Clearly she had the time. "Why not...how about you start by telling me your name."

He nodded, his demeanor relaxed and comfortable, "Neal."

Something low in her gut clenched at that. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, and tired and curious, she pushed the feeling away and trained her eyes on him, listening as he recounted the rather amusing details of their new and unconventional relationship.

And even as she laughed and smiled at the stories he told her, only half of her was truly listening. The other half was attempting to place a strange little tune that was softly playing in her head while trying to figure out why images of a vast blue ocean and a ship's sails flapping in the wind lingered in her thoughts.

Neverland, some time ago

A gypsy rover came over the hill
Down through the valley so shady.
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady.

She left her father's castle gate.
She left her own fine lover.
She left her servants and her state
To follow her gypsy rover…

Emma stood on the deck watching as Hook leaned over the railing, looking out at the sea that shone with the reflection of the shimmering stars and far off planets of Neverland's endless night sky. A bottle of rum in his hand, the soft song lazily spilled from his lips—his voice low, smooth, and hypnotizing. The gentle notes of the rhyme filtered to her ears, and she closed her eyes for a moment enjoying the sound.

"I should tie you back to my bed for being so insolent."

Her eyes snapped open fast while heat quickly spread through her body at his softly spoken words. Looking up she saw he was no longer gazing out at the water but had turned away from it—his attention solely focused on her.

"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly, carefully. Moving to take a step towards him, she hesitated, and rethinking it, stayed where she was.

Since returning from the gnome's cave with both her and his wardrobe in possession he'd been different—his behavior somewhat distant while his actions were less severe. He hadn't locked her in his cabin like she had originally feared upon returning to his ship. Rather, he'd done the opposite—bringing her on deck more often, even letting her share meals and mingle a bit with the crew who although quite rough around the edges weren't all that bad; if the foul language, wandering eyes, innuendos, and overall bad manners were overlooked.

"You couldn't sleep, so you decided to take a turn about my ship in the dead of night?" His voice was slightly incredulous but the humor in his tone far outweighed the hint of anger that lurked there.

She lifted her chin and raised a brow, "Yes."

Abandoning his rum, he pushed away from the railing, and as he made his way over to her, she was briefly struck by the grace with which he moved. "Emma love, don't you know pirates prowl this very ship?"

Her mouth inched upwards into a smirk, while a blush warmed her cheeks; it still threw her off to hear him call her by name. "So I've been told."

He stopped directly in front of her, so that they were close…too close. But she refused to back away, even as his body brushed up just slightly against hers and his eyes, appearing almost black in the night, stared down at her hard. "You are an infuriating little imp…have I ever told you that?"

"Once or twice...your men like me."

"That's what I fear darling."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not afraid of them…I don't think they'd do anything."

He reached out with his good hand and picked up a lock of her hair, and holding it in his grip, tugged on it gently. "Aye, they know better than to lay a finger on you…I've made the consequences of such an action quite clear."

She let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way her body seemed to hum in anticipation as his fingers continued to play with the ends of her hair. Slowly they moved down, trailing across her bare arm, his stroke feather light, almost innocent. And as his touch swept over her, she found herself frozen, unable to move as his fingers danced up and down her skin. Gradually, he brought his hand under her chin and gripped it lightly, brushing the pad of his thumb over her near trembling lips, he leaned in towards her, causing her breath to come in sharply.

"Perhaps it's not them you should be worried about."

It took everything in her power to look away, and even then she could still feel the heat of his gaze and the brush of his fingers awakening something terrifying inside of her.

The warm breeze whipped through her hair, sending loose golden strands dancing across her sun kissed face. Leaning against the mast, Emma stared out at the rough and raging sea, struck for a moment by its fierce beauty. Sighing contentedly she closed her eyes and breathing in the salty air, enjoyed the heavy sway of the grand and masterful ship. She loved when they sailed the exotic sea, it was exhilarating to feel the Jolly Roger crash through the angry waves while the wind rippled through its large billowing sails.

Opening her eyes again, she watched as the crew busied themselves around her, smiling a little as they sang some rough sailor's tune—the chorus she couldn't quite catch but based off the snickers and laughs she guessed it was unsurprisingly offensive. Continuing to take in the sights and sounds around her, she pondered her current situation with Hook and his men. She wasn't exactly sure what they were still doing in Neverland. With the wardrobe in Hook's possession she had thought and had feared that they would be departing for the Enchanted Forest soon. But with each rising and setting sun they remained in Neverland, the once desperate urge she had felt to get back home slowly fading into a passing longing.

And they didn't talk about it.

They carried on with their daily lives neither mentioning that she had a different world to get back to and he a deal with a sorceress to keep.

She had a feeling he was stalling, unsure what to do with her…hesitant to take her back to his land but aware she had no means to get home to hers. She didn't want to press the issue; she had fallen into a comfortable routine with the ship and its crew. No longer a prisoner—she secretly enjoyed life at sea.

Feeling the heat and awareness of someone's eyes on her, she looked up and seeing Hook standing in the middle of his crew, caught his eyes, blue and stormy staring at her with a thoughtful expression on his too attractive features. The intensity of his gaze, the gentle lift of his lips, had an involuntary shudder sweeping through her body fast.

But even so, this time she refused to look away. Instead she squared her shoulders and raised a brow, holding his stare in an unspoken challenge. And she couldn't help the slight feeling of victory that coursed through her when he inclined his head towards her and with a flash of a smile looked away, focusing on his men once again.

Returning her gaze to the sea she laughed softly, silently acknowledging that the day Hook had rescued her and they had returned to the Jolly Roger something had shifted and changed inside of her. Instead of feeling as if she were walking back to her prison…she had felt like she was coming home.

And closing her eyes she let her skin drink in the warm rays of the sun once more, ignoring the tiny cry of protest that lingered in her thoughts.

"What the devil is going on here?"

Emma looked up at the sound of his voice, noticing how the crew quickly parted to make way for their captain. He was like a god amongst mere mortals on his ship, radiating power and commanding attention. And Emma felt her brow furrow in slight annoyance at the oddly dramatic and overly romantic thought.

"Sword fighting." She said with a grin, wiggling the heavy weapon she held in her hand as he stopped a few feet away from her.

Amusement flashed across his features before it was quickly replaced with a stern unyielding look. "Good gods Emma my love…it's as if you're begging me to lock you away again. And I can see sword fighting is what you're attempting…I'm just curious as to why."

Glancing around his crew he eyed them pointedly, his dark gaze sweeping over those that had gathered around them while she quietly looked down, trying her hardest to calm her breathing over his slight change in endearment. My love…it was quite ridiculous for something so simple to affect her so much. While part of her was thrilled with the possessiveness of the pet name another more grounded part of her argued it was Hook—endearments and nicknames flew off his tongue easily and without thought. Taking in a deep shaking breath she pushed away the butterflies in her stomach and ignored the lightness in her head—mentally chiding herself for being so stupid.

"Any of you fools care to explain how the lass got her hands on a weapon?

Breaking from her thoughts, Emma looked up, watching as the smirking crew faltered for an answer. After a moment of silence, one of the burly pirates that Emma had quickly taking a liking to—with his soft-spoken voice and gentle manners—spoke up with a nearly toothless grin "Ahhh capn' she saw us swingin' our blades about and wanted to give it a try…she can't hurt nuttin."

Hook raised a brow at that, "yes well except herself." He murmured purposefully and directing his attention towards Emma, rolled his eyes—his face twisting into an expression of slight repulsion. "Bad form darling. Quit gripping it like you would a mallet."

She looked down at the sword she held and frowned. "It's comfortable this way."

"Yes well, I suppose it is, but you're not likely to win any duels holding it like that."

She laughed, "I don't think I'll be fighting any duels or slaying any dragons anytime soon Captain." She said teasingly, the crew chuckling lightly behind her.

"Will the lot of you quit acting like a bunch of besotted fools and get back to work." Hook barked but his voice lacked the usual venom it held when shouting orders at his men. As they retreated he glanced back over at her, his gaze idly raking over her body, before he drew his sword. "Well if you're so hell bent on running a muck on my ship, I might as well teach you a thing or two about wielding a sword myself."

Emma rolled her eyes, and raising her weapon attempted to mimic his stance, sighing when he merely shook his head in disgust and muttered a curse under his breath. And noting that being outside in the cool sea breeze with a sword in hand and her begrudgingly amused captain standing in front of her, she couldn't stop the wide smile that stretched across her lips.

It was the lightest she'd felt in weeks.

Neverland was rarely cold, but every so often the breeze would turn causing a slight chill to linger in the air.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms to ward off the goosebumps that were insisting on popping up across her skin, Emma breathed in the fresh ocean air, watching as the waves crashed and rolled onto the shore. Sitting on the beach with the rippling wind, the sounds of birds crowing and the water lapping, she couldn't help but think of Peter—the last time she had sat looking out at the sea with her toes in the sand she had been with him.

She had been happy and carefree.

She had felt hopeful.

Naive.

And now, as she spent more time with the pirate captain and his crew she wasn't sure what she felt. She was slightly lost and more than a little confused. She had spent restless nights tossing and turning in Hook's bed, the scent of him overwhelming her even though despite his suggestive remarks and scorching stares he hadn't actually slept in his cabin for weeks.

Underneath the hard and broken exterior: shockingly enough, there was a gentlemen.

A gentleman who drove her crazy, a gentleman who had the ability to make her want to pull her hair out while simultaneously throwing herself into his arms.

It was unnerving.

As something cold and wet rolled down her cheek, Emma momentarily broke from her reverie and reaching up, touched her skin. Pulling her hand back she stared at the glistening dampness hard, surprised when she realized that she'd been shedding silent tears. Rubbing the wetness between her thumb and forefinger she glanced back out at the sea, her thoughts heavy and her heart uncertain.

She was absolutely terrified by the intense feelings for the dark captain that were swirling inside of her.

She had to wonder how long they would fight what was going on between them. How long would they circle each other…how long would they both deny the change in their relationship? She felt as if they were both struggling to ignore it, grasping for some semblance of control. And for the most part it was easy to pretend. She still infuriated him of that she was certain. And he was still a smug bastard; with his over confident attitude and easy charm. But at the end of the day, she couldn't deny there was something else there. Underneath all the innuendos, the flashing tempers, and quick retorts…something terrifying was simmering and taking shape.

And wiping away another tear, she smiled sadly, because deep down she knew the cause of all her inner turmoil.

It was more than sparks and heat—blatant suggestions and wandering eyes.

She was falling in love.

An entire day had passed without any sign or sound of him.

Emma stood in Hook's cabin, brushing her hair while thoughtfully looking down at the map that was sprawled out on his desk—the land was foreign, the names intriguing. Staring at it, she tilted her head to the side, wondering about the place he often referred to as the Enchanted Forest, curious if it was anything like Neverland.

Was it beautiful? Terrifying? Both?

Deep in her thoughts, she barely heard the door behind her open and close softly and turning distractedly from his desk watched with some surprise as Hook came into the room. There was an odd air about him—dark, predatory, slightly sinister. Clad in black and leather, she felt her breath hitch in her throat, as he stared at her from across the room with narrowed blue eyes. He considered her a long moment—making no attempt to hide his languid and blatant perusal of her body.

Under the hot scrutiny of his gaze she tensed—the atmosphere in the room was suddenly charged and nearly volatile. Meeting her curious stare, he began walking, slowly making his way over to her; and she could feel her eyes grow wide as a tiny sliver of fear inched its way into her brain.

"Do you um…" she swallowed and took a breath, mentally telling herself to calm down, annoyed with how off balanced she suddenly felt. "Do you need something?" It was irritating how soft and unsure her voice was.

He merely smiled at her; it was dark, bordering on cruel and as he came to a halt in front of her, as usual not minding her any personal space, she had to tilt her chin upwards so she could properly see him. Peering at him carefully, she unthinkingly took a step back, cringing slightly when her back brushed up against the desk behind her.

"What's wrong Hook?"

He didn't say anything, his humorless smile merely widened and quickly his good arm snaked around her waist causing her to gasp in surprise as he pulled her towards him fast, slamming her body into his.

"Hey…what the—?"

"Oh are you going to deny me love? Pretend it's not something you've thought about?" He finally spoke, his voice low and close to her ear, the scent of rum nearly overwhelming her.

"Are you—are you drunk?" She asked, trying to keep the fear in her voice at bay as her traitorous heart pounded rapidly at a fast and painful pace.

"Don't insult me Swan." He said—his tone biting, his hold on her tight.

She tried to wrack her brain, tried to figure out the change in his behavior, the reasoning for his sudden forcefulness. Attempting to push against his chest, she sighed as he remained immobile, her efforts useless. "You are drunk. You reek like liquor...let go of me. Now."

The low chuckle he gave in answer was dark and slightly ominous and she hated herself for the tiny shudder that followed it as the beginnings of lust kindled low in her belly. "Don't act like you haven't thought about this lass. Don't pretend I don't know you've dreamed of me coming to you. You think about it don't you? Do you fantasize about the dangerous pirate captain throwing you on that bed and having his way with you…leaving you good and ravished. And I could. Oh, I could so easily do it…and you'd like it." His lips whispered over the sensitive skin at her neck and she bit back a breathy sigh at the contact. "You'd love it."

She would…she knew she would.

But something was off—something wasn't right.

"I saw you on the beach yesterday darling."

She ignored him, unsure what that had to do with her current predicament, "I said get your hands off me…just stop…talk to me." His answer was a gentle and deliberate thrust of his hips against her, and she couldn't hold back the gasp that tumbled from her lips, hating him as he laughed at her response, the sound triumphant, wicked and knowing.

"You were crying."

She shook her head, trying to clear it—his words, the anguish and accusation in his tone, the tightening of his grip…it made no sense.

"You were crying on the beach. Are you so unhappy here? Do you miss him that much…that foolish lost boy of yours—Pan. Do you wish your young lover had come to save you instead? Do you still think of him now? Do you want him to take you away from the villainous Captain Hook?" He lifted his head and staring down at her with flashing blue eyes, the corners of his mouth tilted into a mocking smirk. "I can make you forget him Emma." He said softly, and she noticed that his voice was laced with just the slightest bit of tenderness before his eyes blazed angrily again.

When his mouth came descending down onto hers, she was too surprised to say anything, too shocked to respond—only a tiny whimper escaped her as his lips crashed against hers and he kissed her hard…almost brutally. She could taste the anger and rum on his tongue as he forced his way into her mouth without ceremony; she could feel the frustration in his harsh unrelenting grip. For one brief moment she relaxed, she gave into him. For an instant she allowed him access to her, she reveled in the feeling of being held by him, of having his lips moving roughly against hers, of his arms pushing her body desperately into his.

She gave that to him, almost without thought because he was right—she had dreamed of him holding her and taking her more times than she could count. She wanted him...there was no denying it. So she allowed herself to sink into him, to yield, until suddenly something inside of her rejected it.

Not like this.

Breaking away from the kiss, she stared up at him breathless and dazed, watching as his lust-filled eyes cleared and gave way to annoyance before his mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Too much for you darling? Did your Peter handle you more delicately?"

Her answering slap echoed in the silent room and her palm burned with the contact, as humiliation and rage simmered inside of her.

"Leave." She whispered, her voice trembling as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

She saw a variety of emotions flash in his eyes…anger, regret, sorrow and then slowly he released her. Pushing away from her roughly, he backed up a step or two, and staring at her, he opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but instead of following through he shook his head and turning on his heel made his way out of the room.

And he never once looked back, the sound of the door softly closing echoing in her head, as she dropped to the floor and buried her face in her hands. Quiet painful sobs wracked her body and as she silently cried she couldn't rid herself of the tingling feeling on her lips...

He had branded her with his kiss.

It was dark and cool before she wandered above deck. An entire day had come and gone and he had yet to seek her out—only further fueling her anger.

But even more than that she was curious.

After an entire night of cursing him, cursing herself, and cursing them both, she had fallen asleep thoroughly exhausted and utterly confused. Walking out into the breezy night air she gathered her wits and scanned her surroundings, her eyes quickly finding him standing near the helm.

He looked dark and dangerous.

Irresistible.

Making her way towards him, she tried to ignore the phantom feelings of his lips against hers, the way her body had felt pressed against his. Her mind cruelly taunted her with images of their kiss—passionate and angry.

"Ahhh there you are lass…come back for another go?"

His words stopped her in her tracks, hitting her hard.

"I assumed you'd break down soon enough." He said, turning fully towards her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. The pirate she had first encountered so long ago stood before her, the man she'd slowly been falling in love with nowhere to be seen.

"Why are you doing this?"

His smile widened and he stepped towards her, narrowing his eyes when she took a step back. "Ahhh Emma darling, don't deny it…I felt you yield to me last night…no need to fight it any longer."

"What is wrong with you?" Her voice rose an octave and her body trembled as fury coursed its way through her veins fast. She wasn't sure what she had expected…an apology…an explanation…both.

Clearly she had been mistaken.

"What's wrong with me? I only want to make you forget. I only want to do you a favor. Your lover abandoned you…even now it effects you. Even now it has you shedding tears for what could have been…give yourself over to me and I'll make you forget." His smile was slow and devastating, the confident grin of a man who had charmed his way into countless women's beds.

Glaring at him with all the heat she could muster, she shook her head, refusing to let his words affect her. "He was not my lover," she hissed, watching as slight surprise flashed across his features. Quickly she continued, cutting him off before he had the chance to speak. "The day you saw me crying on the beach I was thinking of Peter…you're right. I was thinking about how different my feelings for you and him were. He taught me to trust. He gave me hope. And then he crushed it, abandoning me in the process. So I cried yes. I cried because I was scared… terrified of you." She saw him raise an eyebrow at that, but she barreled on, not allowing him the chance to interrupt. "You terrify me. You terrify me because I don't understand what you're doing to me. I wanted to hate you. I did hate you at first…I wanted to escape you and go home and forget all about you. But now…now I can't. You're inside me…you're inside my head…my heart...the very core of my being. And I can't get rid of you. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me…because I don't know what that means…if you feel it too…if it means anything to you." Stopping suddenly she shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "At the end of the day I should have known better. I'm nothing but a stupid and naive girl…an entertaining distraction...a means to pass your over abundant time in this God awful place."

"Emma—" he stepped towards her and once again she took a step back.

"You're an ass Killian Jones...just stay the hell away from me." She spat—the words coming out harsh and angry as the weight of what had occurred between them the night before settled heavily on her. His stupidity and utter blindness and carelessness for her feelings took a hold of her, bringing fresh tears to her eyes. And looking at him, she saw the surprise and the pain that lingered in his expression. Scoffing at him, not caring what, if anything at all, he had to say to her, she turned and stalked away, relieved when he didn't follow.

It wasn't until she was back in his cabin with the door locked and the lamps doused that she realized that was the first time she had used his true name in place of his moniker.

And the simple realization crushed her heart while bringing fresh tears to her already burning eyes.

Emma closed her eyes, taking a brief moment to appreciate the soft scents and sounds of the entrancing world around her. She had left the ship earlier that day without speaking to anyone about her departure. Instead she had merely waltzed off the Jolly Roger as if she owned it, as if she had every right to come and go as she pleased.

And no one had stopped her.

No burly crewmates had crossed her path blocking her exit, no furious captain had shouted at her, demanding she come back. She had left and not a single soul aboard the great ship had attempted to intervene and bring her back.

Not knowing where to go, she had begun walking away from the beach and eventually finding a small trail, against her better judgment she had followed it. She had walked for what had seemed like miles, cursing Hook in the process and silently acknowledging that if she got lost or eaten by wild animals she was going to place the blame entirely on him for being such an arrogant ass and forcing her to flee his ship once again.

Of course she had ended up falling on a particularly uneven portion of the path—a sharp rock had sliced her hand leaving a pretty decent cut. It had hurt like hell and the string of angry curses that had followed the fall would have impressed even the foulest of pirates. And that too, she somehow managed to blame Hook for. She figured if he hadn't acted the way he had, with his hot kisses and hurtful words laced with false accusations, she never would have left and injured herself.

Thinking about her hand she opened her eyes and looked down at it, wincing at the jagged and deep red cut. Scowling, she figured sooner rather than later she'd have to find water to clean it. But first she wanted to enjoy the calm serenity a bit longer. On a sigh, she gazed out at the lush field she sat in. The grass was green and soft—scattered with vibrant wildflowers of every color combination imaginable. Butterflies fluttered from bud to bud as exotic birds flew from perch to perch in the towering trees of the nearby forest. With a final stretch and a sad sigh she lifted herself off the ground, a tiny smile ghosting her lips.

Neverland really was enchanting.

"Care for me to walk you back to the ship darling?"

She closed her eyes for a moment trying to block out the warring emotions that bubbled up at the sound of his velvet voice. Squaring her shoulders, she turned around and faced him, noticing the wary expression he wore. "So you found me."

His mouth kicked up into a slight grin and his clear blue eyes never left hers. "Always."

Emma fought not to show any reaction to his declaration and biting her bottom lip, she lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. "Do I have much of a choice?"

"I'd rather not leave you to the beasts that roam the hills…Neverland is as dangerous as it is beautiful. It'll be dark soon…come back with me."

She sighed, he was right—she'd never survive on her own, she had no other choice. "Fine." Walking towards him, she made a move to stalk past him when suddenly he reached out, grabbing her arm lightly.

"Give me your hand."

She glanced down at her hand quickly before looking back up at him. "What?"

"Your hand it's cut, let me help you."

The reminder sent a flash of pain burning through her palm but backing away she shook her head. "What? No…it's fine just forget about it—"

He reached out fast, faster than she'd anticipated, and capturing her wrist with his hook, pulled her towards him. "No. It's not."

She hated how instantly the spicy smell of him—rum, sea, and something uniquely him—invaded her senses. Scowling up at him she raised a brow. "So now you're going to be a gentleman?" She asked quietly, watching as he inspected her hand with a light touch and a gentle expression.

Glancing up, he leaned towards her and closing the already small space between them, gave her an infuriating smirk. "The beasts can smell blood…and I'm always a gentleman."

She raised a brow, wanting to remind him that his recent actions with her proved otherwise, but for some reason she held her tongue, watching as he grabbed a bottle from his pocket and uncorked it with his mouth. Looking up at her, he flashed her a small almost apologetic smile before dousing her entire upturned palm with the warm clear liquid. Immediately a burning pain shot through her hand and she tried to pull back but he had a firm grip on her with his hook and refused to let her go.

"Oh God…what the hell is that?" she asked wincing as the liquid continued to run down her skin.

He smirked and inspecting the cut, he unraveled a scarf that was loosely wrapped around his neck. "It's rum….and a bloody waste of it."

She frowned, watching as he expertly began to wrap her hand in his scarf, ignoring the heat that began to dance across her skin at his close presence and soft touch. She wanted to be angry with him…she was angry with him…and she'd prefer to stay that way. But as she watched him tend to her injury, she nearly rolled her eyes at herself in disgust…her resolve was already wavering.

Concentrating on his task he cleared his throat, gaining her attention. "Over three hundred years ago a coward took away my love. Ripped her heart out right in front of me and crushed it to dust, letting the pieces fall to my feet. I made a promise that very day…I would get my vengeance. I would find that crocodile, skin him, watch him suffer and die. He would pay for what he did to Milah. Three hundred years Emma and that has been my one and only focus. I've never wavered from it." Slowly he brought her hand to his lips, and taking the cloth he'd wrapped it with between his teeth, he caught her eyes and pulled gently, his mouth lifting slightly when she inhaled sharply. Tucking the scarf into itself, he continued to hold her hand, his eyes still searching hers. "And then you came crashing into my life…disrupting the delicate balance of this land…tempting me to forget. You changed everything Emma. Everything. I wanted to keep you at arms length…I wanted to make you hate me. Because you, my love, terrify me as well. You're the most infuriatingly stubborn lass I've ever met. And the more I pushed you, the more you reminded me of her…all spirit and wit and beauty. And I hated you for it. Because surely thinking of you in that way was a betrayal to Milah. So I continued to keep you at bay—playing the part of the rotten pirate." He paused his eyes burning into hers, "and then you left me. You ran from me and my world, which had unbeknownst to me gotten brighter, very suddenly dimmed again."

Tentatively he reached out and took a lock of her hair between his fingers, his entire face relaxing when she didn't pull away. And how could she pull away—she could barely breathe let alone move. "When I searched for you after you were taken by the gnomes something terrifying occurred to me. Perhaps revenge isn't the only reason I've lived all these years…perhaps I've watched countless sunsets and seen many sunrises…waiting for you. "

On a shaky sigh, she blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the prickling of tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes, inwardly cursing when one escaped and rolled down her cheek. As it made a wet path, slowly Hook brought a hand to her face and cupping her cheek gently, he rubbed a thumb over her skin, softly brushing the tear away. "When I got you back I swore to the gods I wouldn't let you go. I'd do everything in my power to keep you…to make you happy always. But then I saw you that day on the beach. You were staring out at the sea and you looked so distraught, so melancholy—it was like a blade to my gut to see you that way. It was a rash conclusion but I assumed you missed your Peter, your world…both. I acted out. Foolishly so. I drank a filthy amount of rum and my actions the other night were deplorable only further proving to you what a black-hearted scoundrel I am. I upset you my love…and for that I'm truly sorry." He smiled sadly and rubbed his thumb gently over her cheek again. ""The wardrobe is a means back to your world…it is yours. You're free to go, whenever you choose."

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with more tears, blurring her vision. Staring at him, she frowned when he took his hand away and quickly and without thinking she grabbed it. Bringing his fingers to her lips, she kissed them softly and his sad smile was swiftly replaced with a look of shock before fading away into an intense expression of fiery concentration—suddenly she felt lightheaded.

"Killian." She said softly, her words coming out a whisper.

"Emma I—"

But before he could say anything else, she fisted her hands into the lapels of his coat and dragged him to her, crushing her lips against his. He reacted instantly, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her even closer, his mouth moved against hers in a longing and passionate rhythm. Neither held back—he kissed her with all the desperation of a man looking for redemption and finding it in her. And she kissed him with all the wild abandonment of a woman who had never known real love and trusting him to show it to her.

When he laid her down on the grass, she welcomed him into her arms without hesitation. And as they came together in the green fields with the bright Neverland sky over them, she cried out in wonder and awe. Something inside of her—a part of her that had laid dormant for so many years— sparked and glowed golden around the edges as her love for him overwhelmed her, burning bright and leaving her dazed and breathless.

And later as they lay in the field, her head resting on his chest listening to the soft beating of his heart, she closed her eyes with a smile because in his arms she felt safe, in his arms she felt alive.

In his arms she had finally found her home.

"I need to go back to my world."

She felt him tense, his grip around her tightened as they lay in his bed, the gentle sway of the ship threatening to lull her to sleep.

"Oh?"

"There's this feeling I can't explain it. It's like I'm needed back there. It's weird I know…but—but I have to go."

Killian cleared his throat; with her back to him she was unable to read his face. "When do you want to leave?"

"Soon." She sat up and twisting herself so that she was facing him, she smiled down at him. Lifting a hand to his face, she leaned over, gently tracing a finger across the faded scar on his cheek. "Come with me."

His eyes found hers and she was momentarily stunned by how blue they could look even in the dimly lit cabin. "Emma…are you sure? A pirate with a hook for a hand in a world without magic?"

Her smile faltered a bit and lowering her lips, she ghosted her mouth over his as her hair fell over them in a silken curtain. "Haven't you always planned on going there anyway?"

He gave her a tight grin, his eyes narrowing slightly as he brushed her hair from her face. "For very different reasons my love."

She paused—she was still uncertain as to whether or not he had given up his vengeance against the man who had taken Milah's life. "Would you let me go so easily?" she whispered, her eyes on his, her voice unsure.

He was silent for a moment, something bright shone in his gaze and then lifting his head slightly, he caught her lips in a slow meaningful kiss. Like always, light flashed behind her eyes, something sparked and crackled between them and she was left feeling breathless and wanting more.

"No. I'll never let you go…I'll always fight for you Emma."

Her lips trembled at his words and closing her eyes she lowered her forehead to his. "Promise?"

"Always."

Standing on the edge of the moss-covered cliff, Emma stared out at the raging sea as it crashed into the rocks below her.

They were finally leaving Neverland.

Letting her gaze sweep over the brilliant blue water she breathed in the salty air and closing her eyes, tried to permanently implant the image of the crashing waves and setting sun into her brain—never wanting to forget it. Their departure from the enchanted place was bittersweet...she could tell Killian was nervous and on edge, but anytime she questioned him about it he merely ran a hand over her hair and placed a sweet kiss on her head, murmuring something sweet or suggestive, making her completely forget any concerns she'd had.

It would be different back home—she knew it would be. But it would also be better…of that she had no doubt. They would adjust and they would figure everything out together.

As the wind picked up whipping her hair around her, she smiled, a tiny laugh escaping her lips when she heard the soft musical sounds of mermaids' voices drifting up to her ears. Their song was enticing, heartbreaking, and beautiful. And she leaned ever closer trying to catch the hypnotizing melody. Without realizing what she was doing, she took a step forward and then another—captivated by it, she felt compelled to hear more.

The song went on about a villain and a stolen princess with a love that could never be. And something inside of her broke a little as the words echoed in the wind. They floated up through the air whispering softly of sadness and loss of redemption and the perils of true love. And her eyes burned as the haunting tune gently wrapped itself around her, beckoning her closer still.

It wasn't until she was spiraling downwards with the sea rushing towards her fast that she realized she'd fallen victim to the sirens' oldest trap. When she hit the water and pain burst through her entire body, dimly she thought she heard the sounds of beautiful and cruel laughter floating above her.

And it was his blue eyes that she saw before she was dragged under completely, her body giving up on her entirely.

"Wendy—Emma? Emma!"

She opened her eyes to see a familiar brown gaze staring down at her, concern and pain flashing in his stare as gentle hands probed her lightly. Her body ached and her vision was blurred.

"Emma can you hear me?"

Closing her eyes again, she barely allowed herself time to panic when she realized she could barely move.

She wished he was with her.

"Killian."

The words barely passed her lips before she welcomed the darkness once more.

"She needs a doctor."

"She needs to be healed!"

Cracking an eye open, Emma could just barely make out the two figures that were only a few feet away from her. One was standing stoically while the other was pacing back and forth, his movements brisk and near frantic.

"If the pixies were going to heal her they would have been here by now. They know about her and they're not coming." The voice was calm, rational.

"Then we'll make them come!" The other voice roared, and she heard the sounds of something clattering and smashing. Vaguely Emma wondered what had been broken.

"Hook…she needs to get help from her world…they have doctors there who can heal her."

"I thought there was no magic there."

"There's not. They have tools and medicines. They might be able to help her."

Emma's eyes focused a bit more and her gaze landed on Killian, he was staring at the other figure his stance tense and rigid. "She could be fine."

"Or she could be dying." The other vaguely familiar voice stated bluntly.

Emma raised a brow, wincing when she realized that even that hurt. She'd have to agree with the last statement…she felt as if she was dying. And as if to prove her point, she attempted to cough, intent on clearing her scratchy throat. But almost instantly she realized her mistake, crying out as pain rushed up her body leaving her gasping for air as tears stung her eyes and she fought to hold on to consciousness.

Immediately Killian came and knelt down by her side, "Emma love, you're awake. Don't fret darling. You're on my ship. You've had an accident."

She forced a smile, and even that seemed to send her body into a fit of protests. "Figures." She muttered her voice coming out a rasped croak.

His smile was gentle and laced with pain, "so you thought you'd take a swim with the mermaids before leaving...you foolish girl."

"Tricked." She mumbled, her torso ached and her head was pounding. She was having trouble focusing on Killian—she could just barely make out the deep lines of concern etched on his face.

"We're going to fix you. You just have to hold on for me." He said softly, brushing his lips lightly over her cheek. Her hair was matted to her head and she briefly wondered if it was sticky with the saltwater or her own blood.

"Hurts." She whispered, a tear making its way down her cheek.

Through the haziness of her vision she saw Killian's eyes close briefly as his jaw clenched tightly. "I know darling."

He stood up then and immediately she missed the warmth of his presence.

"The wardrobe." She heard him say to the other person. "I'll take her to her world. We were planning on it anyway."

"And then what?" The other voice scoffed, his tone incredulous.

"And then I'll get her the bloody attention she needs…you foolish git."

"And how will you do that Hook? You're unfamiliar with her land, she needs help right away. You have to let me take her."

She heard Killian's dark chuckle at that and she wanted to shake her head, to protest the other person's words. Killian was supposed to go with her. No one else.

"And why should you take her? You abandoned her once. Why would I let you take her from me now? Why would I trust you with her?"

"Because if you don't she could die! What are you going to do when you get to her land? You wouldn't know where to take her. You wouldn't know how to seek help there. You wouldn't know what the hell to do. Her world is very different from ours—and a three hundred year old pirate captain with a hook for a hand isn't exactly going to be welcomed without questions. It's like nothing you've ever seen before…and I've been there. I know how it works…you have to let me take her."

"The wardrobe is only built for two people to pass through." Killian's voice was pained and broken.

"I know."

"If you take her from me I'll have lost her anyway."

"You don't know that."

There was a long silence, it stretched on for what seemed like an eternity and Emma struggled feebly, attempting to stay awake.

"Do the honorable thing for once in your life Hook. If you love her…let her go."

No. No. No. No! She shook her head attempting to protest—Killian couldn't listen to those words. He couldn't leave her.

"If she dies Pan..I will find out and I will end you."

Pan.

Peter.

Emma almost laughed at the irony—the boy who had left her to the terrors of Neverland now fighting for her life and attempting to save her.

"Then let us go now...so she has a chance."

She heard Killian sigh and then suddenly he was kneeling next to her again, his blue eyes watery his expression broken. "Emma." He said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"No," She whispered. Panicking she closed her eyes fast and opened them again—she couldn't see him, her eyes were brimming with too many unshed tears. "Killian. No. Don't…leave...me." The words were stuttered and barely understandable.

"I have no other choice love. I can't let you die…I won't lose you like that. And Pan is right, I don't know your world at all…he needs to be the one to take you."

She was crying now, hot tears streaked down her cheeks as his words resonated in her brain. She knew he was right…deep down she did. She wasn't ready to die…but she couldn't bare the thought of being an entire world away from him. Her heart broke and something inside of her dimmed—the light he had ignited in her was slowly snuffed out.

"Killian."

He brushed his lips against hers softly, the touch was barely a whisper against her mouth. "I will find you Emma."

Her lips trembled and her vision wavered again. "Promise?"

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke next—it was heartbreaking sound, "Always."

Closing her eyes at that, her mind began to drift as the pain in her body consumed her. Faintly she felt as if she were being lifted and then gently she was placed down onto a hard uncomfortable surface—the light behind her eyes became dim as the space around her grew cramped. She felt a presence next to her and when she opened her eyes once more, she noticed Peter sitting next to her in what was presumably the wardrobe—his eyes were downcast, focused on a small vial he held in his hand. Looking up through the open wood door, Emma's eyes landed on Killian—he was a few feet away, his face tear streaked and tired. Meeting her gaze he gave her a small smirk, not an ounce of the charm she had come to adore lingered in the grin. He held her stare for a moment and noticing when her eyes filtered down to Peter's hand before back up to him, his entire posture tensed and his face twisted into an expression of pure rage.

"What is that? Pan what is that! Damn you! Emma don't drink that!"

"She has to forget…she—she can't remember. I'm sorry."

At Peter's words, Killian rushed towards them fast, the grief in his eyes the last thing she saw before the light was doused and suddenly she felt as if she were flying—soaring through time and space.

And as she closed her eyes again, Emma just barely heard Peter whisper to her in a dull, sorrowful voice, "I'm so sorry Wendy."

Whew. Okay that was a doozy, I know. But again I didn't want to split up Emma and Killian's story.

Please review guys! Thanks!