A/N: So, there are definitely some hints of Swanfire in this chapter. Those hints are going to keep popping up throughout the story but I promise it's a CaptainSwan end game.

Trigger: Some really mild sexual harassment

Chapter 3: Return to Neverland

"Cassidy." Elsa's eyes narrowed as she sized up the guard standing in front of her.

The uniform made him look bigger than he actually was, not that Neal had ever been small. He chuckled lightly and Emma's eyes darted unconsciously to his lips. His smile had always been his greatest quality, all teeth and dimples and crinkles by the eyes. Emma had always loved the way his face lit up whenever he was happy. Even in a dismal place like this, Neal's smile didn't fail to send a feeling of warmth through her body, and she couldn't help but think how different her first prison experience would have been had he been there by her side. She shook her head. What a stupid thought. Without him, she wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place.

"Ah, Ms. Arendelle. Aren't you looking just as bright and beautiful as ever." Neal reached up to brush an errant strand of hair away from her face.

"Cut the shit Cassidy. No one thinks that's cute." Elsa snapped as she slapped his hand away with such fierceness that both Emma and Belle thought he'd fall over from the impact.

"A shame since I think all three of you ladies are oh so cute." He replied jovially with a wink. "You know I do like them feisty." His gaze suddenly fixed on Emma. "It makes the breaking in so much more… satisfactory."

Any comfort she had previously felt from Neal's comfort had suddenly been replaced with panic inducing fear. Those eyes that had just been sparkling green pools were clouded by something sinister. The darkness engulfed her and images of her running after foster parents begging them to take her back, standing alone at carpool lines, and sitting alone in a prison infirmary looped through her mind. Once again she found herself reduced to nothing more than a scared, lost, forgotten, and abandoned little girl looking for someone, anyone to take her with them.

"Don't. Fucking. Look. At. Her." Belle's sharp command snapped her back to reality. Emma's eyes darted wildly back and forth until she felt the sharp tug of Elsa's protective grasp. Letting out the breath she didn't even know she had been holding, she sought safety in her friend's embrace.

"You know better than to play this game with me Ms. French. I always have a way to get what I want." He somehow managed to grind out his thinly veiled threat through gritted teeth while managing to maintain the self satisfied grin that he continued to shoot Emma's direction.

"And I'm here for slicing a man's neck with a nail file and then castrating him with eyebrow scissors."

"Is that a threat, Ms. French?"

"Only if you want it to be." The two continued to glare at each other for what seemed like hours before Neal scoffed nonchalantly.

"Whatever. Like I'd want some prison rats. You have 30 seconds to get out of my face before I put you all in solitary."

Emma felt Elsa and Belle pull her down the hall while whispering reassurances before she heard something made her blood run cold.

"But I guess that means you're not interested in breaking that curse then, huh Ems."

She whipped her head back around, but before she could reply he had disappeared around the corner.

"Don't let him get in your head, Emma" At this point Belle and Elsa were dragging her down the hall back to their bunks.

"Belle's right. He's just fucking with you. He's trying to get under your skin and you're letting him."

Curse.

This was a curse and Neal knew how to break it. Someone was here to help her. The unease and uncertainty began to melt away and for the first time since arriving in this new Storybrooke Emma felt hopeful.

The squeak of the felt tip pen was beginning to piss Elsa off. Like, really piss Elsa off. Her fingers danced along the edge of her Walkman where the volume wheel was in an attempt to drown out the infernal noise. When did Emma become such an avid writer anyways?

"Can you like… take that shit to the library or something. You're giving me grey's with all that noise. Since when were you such a budding Virginia Woolf anyway?"

Emma glanced up from her frantic writing to a very exasperated Elsa. The list she was writing was growing longer and longer as her understanding of this curse was getting clearer. Gripping the marker even tighter, she shot a furtive glance over her shoulder, suddenly suspicious of everyone around her. A feminine giggle cut through the tension.

"Elsa, you can stop reminding us that you were an English major. We get it. You were smart. Pretentious bi-atch." Belle snorted as she tossed a paper ball at Elsa from her bunk.

"Look who's talking Ms. 'I've read every book they got in this ignorant hell hole'." Elsa quipped before tossing the ball back at her. "Seriously though Emma, can you take that to the library? Anna is coming for evening visiting hours and I really don't want to be in a shit mood when I scream at her punk ass."

Emma hesitated. She had no idea where the library was. She didn't even know who was safe to talk to.

"Uh… sure… yeah, I'll just go to the library." Damn, when did she become so timid. Determined to shake off the fear that had been holding her hostage since she woke up in this reality, Emma shot up and strut toward the door. Sensing something was off, Belle jumped up to join Emma, but before she could say anything, Emma was already breezing down the hall.

Adrenaline was pumping through Emma's system as she moved quickly through the hall. Signs along the walls pointed to things like "Cafeteria" and "Multifaith Chapel," but for the life of her she couldn't see anything that said "Library." Her head spun, the walls warping around her in a way that made the prison halls resemble a carnival funhouse, which just made her want to find that library faster. She picked up her pace, rounding sharp corners, darting between carts, all the while ignoring the "heys" and "watch where you're goings" before she suddenly felt something solid.

"Knew you'd come to find me sooner or later." Strong arms caught her before the impact sent both her,her papers, and felt makers spilling across the floor. "Baby, you didn't have to run, I would have waited." Even though it ended with a jovial chuckle, there was something about the way he said that that made her stomach turn. It was predatory, territorial, presumptuous. Pushing those negative thoughts aside, she stood up to face him.

"Neal… I was… just on my way to the library." It seems as though running had not only sucked all the air out of her but it also sucked out all of her confidence as well.

"Library? You're not going to figure out how to fix your problems at the library." He cocked his head toward a plain white door. "Nothing in there but classics and used Nora Roberts romances with all the naughty bits already ripped out." There was something unsettling about his unchanging facial expression. It was as if he had the cheshire grin glued to his face with the only thing betraying his inner thoughts were the quick flashes in his eyes.

Somewhere between the initial collision and now he had managed to gather all of her scattered belongings and back her into the wall behind her. Suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic, Emma felt the sweat began to gather in her hands as she clenched them tighter into fists. Something felt… wrong. Her breath was coming in shorter puffs and she wanted to do nothing more than to run as far away from Neal as possible, but she couldn't bring herself to move. A firm hand, applying too much pressure to be accidental, moved up her leg and settled uncomfortably at her hip.

"I really should get to the library." The voice that stuttered those words, too small to be hers, sounded foreign to her. "I… I wanted… Elsa wanted to read something by Virginia Woolf"

"Then go. No one's stopping you." Another heavy hand planted itself on her shoulder to hold her in place. "But you won't be able to stop this curse on your own Ems, and there's nothing Virginia Woolf can do." He chuckled, taking a step back. "I want to help you though." His face softened ever so slightly. "I care about you Ems."

In that moment she caught a glimpse of the old Neal. Searching his eyes, she could see remnants of the man who gave a lost girl her first home, the man who took care of her in a ratty motel room when she had the flu, the little lost boy who cried with her about fears and losses. The comfort he promised was magnetic. The lost girl in her took over, and, against her control, her hand drifted up, cupping his chin.

"Hope I'm not interrupting something, mate." The soft lilt of the British accent was like a bucket of cold water thrown across her face, but even through the shock, she could sense that although the tone was light, there was a hint of a warning in his voice.

"Not at all Dr. Jones. Emma here just dropped all of her things on her way to the library." Papers and pens were unceremoniously thrust into her arms as she felt someone shove her toward the door. "Looking for something Virginia Woolf, right Ems?"

"Ahh, yes. Woolf. Should give To the Lighthouse a try lass. The protagonist quite reminds me of you actually." He threw her a casual wink before taking a few steps closer to her. He was so close now that if she held up her hand, she'd be able to touch him, feel his heartbeat under her fingertips. She watched with bated breath as he bent down to grasp a marker that had somehow escaped Neal's earlier pursuit.

"You missed one, love. Wouldn't want you to be without-" he flipped it around until he found the lettering "Daffodil."

Allowing herself to find magic in his smirk, Emma felt a warmth envelope her. In any realm, universe, or reality, there were things that were distinctively Killian Jones. Be it the formidable Captain Hook or the shy deckhand under Blackbeard, some parts of him never changed. Even now in khaki work pants and a blue button up he smelled like the sea, all salty and fresh and sweet and bright. The walls around her seemed to open allowing her finally to breathe deeply and reclaim the breath that had been previously so elusive.

"I must say, I was actually quite worried about you earlier today. You struggled considerably in session." Without warning, the world around her became sepia toned again, edges blurring, colors dulling. It was like the moment following the rush of magic that comes with a curse shattering true love's kiss, a flash of happiness that dissolves into nothing more than echoing loneliness as the energy and passion fades and you realize that those types kisses were never meant for you in the first place.

"In any case, I'm glad that you're feeling more like yourself," Killian finished before moving back to his place next to Neal. "Wonderful to see you again Mr. Cassidy."

Emma watched helplessly as Killian continued down the hall. He rounded a corner that, according to the signs scattered randomly down the aisle, led back toward the Multifaith Chapel.

Milah.

He was going to see Milah. Killian, Hook, Dr. Jones, whatever he was, whoever he was, loved, no loves, Milah. The seed of doubt that had planted in her brain during group therapy had suddenly bloomed, clouding all rational thought. She heard a sinister voice first whispering then screaming in her ear. "He never loved you." It was as if this place could sense her deepest fears clinging onto them until it was clutching, gnawing, and scratching at all her vulnerable spots.

Her body jerked involuntarily at the hot sensation behind her ear.

"Jeez Ems. Not even in Neverland yet and you're already jumpy." His arm snaked around her again, and like some vile boa constrictor squeezed at her, draining the life from her. "You want to break the curse, right? See your family again? Meet me at our place tonight after light's out. We'll cut through Neverland and feel oh so charming."

He arms unraveled, releasing her, before slithering out of view, which left Emma unquestionably alone once again.