Chapter 4

Killian was no stranger to pain.

He'd had his fair -or rather, unfair- share of it during his life, both the physical and the emotional kind. The moment the cutlass separated his hand from his body was still seared into his brain. The pain had been excruciating, but at the time it had been overshadowed by the fresh wound that was the loss of Milah. Perhaps the years afterwards were even more torturous, as he had to learn to live without a hand and without love. The phantom limb pain had faded over the centuries, but other wounds were not so easily healed.

Still, nothing could have prepared him for the pain that took hold of his body when his shadow was being ripped away from it. It was pure agony. His resistance only seemed to delay the inevitable, like holding your breath underwater when you know you're drowning. But he was a survivor, and therefore every bone in his body fought the overwhelming urge to just give up.

The shadow had him pinned against a tree, several feet in the air. When Killian heard his moniker called in desperation, he managed to open his eyes with great effort. The terrified expression on Emma's face as she stood there as if frozen solid made him remember the whole reason he was in this predicament in the first place. Not wanting his oddly selfless decision to be in vain, he called out in a strained voice, ''Just go!''

She did not take well to orders. Or rather, it appeared her magic didn't allow her to follow them. A beam of light forced him to screw his eyes shut, while simultaneously feeling the sharp pain in his entire body rapidly fade away. The violent ache of his shadow splitting from his body was replaced by the pain of a less than graceful landing on the ground.

Pushing himself onto his elbows with a grunt, he suddenly felt two hands on his shoulder blades and looked up to see Emma kneeling beside him. Barely managing to croak out a quip, he chuckled, ''No magic, huh?''

''Shut up and let me get you out of here,'' she snapped, forcefully pulling him up to stand. She swung his arm over her shoulder, and she was probably right in her assumption that he wouldn't be able to walk on his own, as the world seemed to be spinning before his eyes. Her worry was evident in the way her eyes darted around in search of more of those devilish spawns, and in the brisk pace at which they approached something that resembled an exit.

Fortunately, that was precisely what it was, and so they both made it out in one piece. Dragging him along a bit further, she propped him up against a tree. His breaths began to grow less shallow at the realization that the perilous situation was now behind them.

''You're bloody brilliant! Amazing!'' he beamed at her as she crouched beside him, but she seemed in no mood for compliments.

''What were you thinking? You could have died!'' she scolded, and the fact that it genuinely angered her only made his smile broader, which probably just added to her frustration.

''I didn't know you cared,'' he teased, and it sounded like a joke. But the moment he said it, he realized how much truth that statement encompassed. This was the first hard evidence that she did feel somewhat partial to him.

''I care enough not to let you get yourself killed on my watch.'' She wasn't fazed by his words, nor did she let them distract her from the task she'd initiated; her hands traveled along his body, obviously checking for broken bones and other signs of alarming injuries.

''Well, that's a start.''

''I swear, if you almost die again I'll kill you myself.''

''I'd be honored,'' he smirked, putting his hand on one of hers in what was hopefully a reassuring gesture. Her frantic movements stilled as her gaze fell on their hands. ''I'm fine, love. As much as I love the doting attention, there's no need to worry. Almost getting your shadow ripped from your body is a most unpleasant experience, but it appears to have surprisingly few repercussions on your health. I'd rather discuss your side of the story.'' Only then did her eyes shift from their hands to his eyes, enabling him to see her dazed confusion. ''Your magic, Swan. You wielded it again.''

''I know,'' she sighed, defeat coloring her words. The last time he'd brought it up he'd been met with a wall of stubborn denial, but this incident made it impossible for her to keep lying about it to anyone, including herself. She absentmindedly pulled back her hand, which left his notably colder in its absence. He was briefly distracted by how much that bothered him, but when she moved to sit down beside him, he quickly shifted to make room for her to sit with her back against the tree as well.

''It's just-'' A sharp intake of breath. He searched her face, noting her furrowed brow and the way her lips pressed together in a tight line for a split second before parting again. ''It makes me think about my parents.'' She stared off into the distance, eyes watering up ever so slightly. ''Maybe… maybe my magic is the reason they sent me away. Maybe they were afraid of what they couldn't understand. Maybe it's the whole reason I'll always be stuck on this island.'' With tears threatening to spill over, she took a shaky breath, and it sounded like a crumbling wall. ''How could I ever accept something that might be the reason why I grew up without them?'' Why I grew up as a Lost Girl. As an orphan. He heard her unspoken thoughts loud and clear. They tugged at his heart, because the question of ''why would anyone give me away'' had been plaguing his mind for centuries, and he couldn't imagine what it would feel like to think that the answer was ''because I'm not what they wanted''.

He shook his head to rid himself of the repulsive thought. ''You can't look at it that way.'' The strength in his voice seemed to surprise her, as she turned her head to look at him with wide eyes, wordlessly pleading him to offer her an alternative point of view. ''Your magic is a part of you, Swan. And you've used it for good; you've saved my life twice already.''

''I like that that's your definition of good.'' It was the first genuine laugh he'd heard from her, and in that instant he knew he'd do anything to hear it again. But next time they could hopefully forego the sadness-ridden tear painting her cheeks, accompanied by her hand hastily reaching up to wipe it away.

''Look, Emma,'' he said solemnly, seeing her surprise at his use of her first name but choosing not to mention it, ''I can't claim to understand exactly how you feel, but I do know that wounds that are made when we're young tend to linger. When I was a boy, my father, my brother and I boarded a ship with plans to travel the realms,'' he revealed in a somber tone, unable to even recall the last time he'd told anyone about this part of his past. ''One morning, I awoke, and he was gone. Turns out, he was a fugitive. He heard there were soldiers waiting at the next port, so he fled in the middle of the night to avoid capture. He paid for a boat by selling my brother and I into servitude.''

''I'm sorry.'' She didn't say it in many words, but he could feel that she meant it.

He subtly nodded, letting her know it was alright. All he'd wanted to do was show her she wasn't alone. If he'd succeeded in doing so by revisiting his own past, the pain was worth it.

''Well, guess you were right,'' she added with a sad smile, continuing when he raised an eyebrow in confusion. ''We do make quite the team. Lost Boy and Lost Girl.''

/

Emma tilted her head up, examining the position of the stars, eventually concluding that they must have been walking for about three hours since their departure from Dark Hollow. Since there were no such things as sunlight and daytime in Neverland, the only way to tell the time was by looking at the constellations in the sky. Sometimes Emma wondered what sunshine would feel like. The only reason she even knew of its existence was because Tink used to tell her about it, mostly as a bedtime story when she was younger. The way she described it made it sound like a beautiful phenomenon, yet utterly unreachable. She said it was as bright as the flames on a torch, as warm as the air of the jungle, as calming as the sensation of drifting off into slumber.

That description reminded her of the feeling of her magic.

Pushing a few branches aside, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw they'd finally arrived at their destination. Motioning at the enchanted wood, she turned around to her equally tired companion. ''Well, here it is.''

''Aye,'' he said with a nod of agreement while he took in the sight before them. The forest was exclusively filled with the type of trees they were looking for. ''I don't recall ever seeing this much of it in one place.''

''Hey, did you actually think of a way to get it back to your boat?'' She looked at him expectantly while wiping the beads of sweat off her brow.

''Ship, Swan.''

''Same thing,'' she argued, but it was more of a tease than anything hostile, ''now stop dodging the question.''

''When you mentioned we'd be travelling to this part of the island, I remembered the steep cliffs on the other side. I figured if we could fashion some kind of rope, we could lower the wood down to the beach. Then we'd simply place it in the water and drag it along with us. Shouldn't be too difficult, one of the main qualities of this wood is how light it is.'' He smiled, clearly proud of his plan. Plus, she hadn't expected him to actually have one, so the surprise on her face most likely only added to his glee.

She collected herself quickly, humming in assent to his suggestion. ''I guess that could work. Okay, let's find some vines and make rope.''

''Are you saying I've impressed you, Swan?'' He teased with a raised eyebrow, taking a step closer to her.

''I would never,'' she stated, but judging by his low chuckle, he could practically feel her smile even after she'd long since brushed past him.

Together, they set Hook's plan into motion right away. After collecting some wood by cutting it off the trees with their swords, they made rope from vines and used it to lower the wood down to the beach. Once it was there, they tied a rope around their respective waists and slowly made their way down the steep cliff.

''I imagine it'll be smooth sailing for this vessel,'' the pirate quipped while he tied the rope around the wood in order to keep it all together while it floated on the calm waves of the shallow water. He started walking, dragging the make-shift raft along with him.

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes good-heartedly. ''If you say so. You're the expert, after all.''

''Aye, that I am,'' he boasted, casting some overt glances at her while they trudged along the shore. Suddenly, he seemed to come up with an idea. Stopping dead in his tracks, He reached into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, pulling out a leather-clad flask. ''Rum?''

Alcohol was something she'd never been able to procure on the island. It was an exotic mystery, and the only person she knew who'd ever drank it was Tink. It was one of the subjects Emma could ask endless questions about. Therefore, she knew rum contained alcohol, and was all too eager to accept his offer in order to quench her curiosity. She lifted the flask to her lips and took a generous swing, but pulled it away just as quickly, grimacing at the burning sensation in her throat.

''Careful, it packs quite a wallop,'' he chuckled as she handed him back the rum with an appalled expression. He then proceeded to take a few large gulps, forgoing his own precautions. However, his face remained neutral. Clearly he'd had a great deal of practice.

''Yeah, thanks for the warning,'' she replied sarcastically, but her mind was more focused on the mysterious warmth that the alcohol imparted to her tongue, throat, and stomach.

They continued to follow the waterline, passing the time by asking each other questions. Emma's inquiries about piracy were usually met with far-fetched tales of monsters and impossibilities. Hook's inquiries about her life in Neverland prompted mostly vague or incomplete answers. She really wasn't sure why he asked if Pan knew of her existence, because of course he did. Hook, however, stood by his declaration that he had told him otherwise. It puzzled her, to say the least.

Seeing as the route back to the ship was far shorter than the one they'd been obliged to take on the way to the forest of enchanted wood, they arrived at their destination within just a few hours. Hook then ordered a few men to carry the building material from the sea to the damaged part of the hull.

''I should probably tell Tink where I've been these past few days,'' she mused out loud, feeling just a tad guilty about not having told her friend of the journey, ''let her know I'm still alive and all that.''

He nodded with a short chuckle, his voice softening when she turned toward the jungle. ''Good night, Swan.''

''Good night, Hook,'' she wished him in return, granting him an easy smile over her shoulder before she left.

/

Killian inspected the progress on the repairs of his beloved vessel, a proud smile tugging at his lips as he took in the sight. The gaping hole was gone, now all that needed to be done was adding some blue and white paint and it would be ready to set sail again. After he'd found and killed the Crocodile, of course.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his reverie, but his grin only grew when he turned around and saw the culprit. ''Swan! To what do I owe the pleasure? Is there another grand quest you'd like to go on, perhaps?''

''No, I think that last trip was more than enough for a while. I came to see the results of it,'' she clarified, letting her gaze rest on the hull of the ship. ''Looks like you're patching her up pretty well.''

''Aye, that we are,'' he agreed, following her eyes and leaning back with his fingers looped around his belt. He looked back at her after a few seconds, flashing a teasing smirk. ''Although you're really gonna have to conjure up some new excuses for coming to see me.'' She noisily cleared her throat, ignoring his remark. It wasn't a very convincing act, which only increased his enjoyment of the conversation. ''Alright, let's pretend for a second that you really are more interested in my ship than in my company.''

''I am,'' she claimed in an affronted tone, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

''Well then,'' he bowed in a slightly over-dramatic gesture, holding out his hand for her to take, ''would the lady grant me the honor of accepting my humble offer for an exclusive tour?''

A surprised laugh escaped her lips. Clearly, she thought his antics to be - at the very least - enjoyably unpredictable. She slipped her hand into his with a roll of her eyes in feigned annoyance, making sure her reply was as casual as possible to offset his over the top performance. ''Fine.''

He straightened his back and moved toward the Jolly Roger, guiding the lady Swan up the gangplank. Once safely on the ship, he began describing the various parts, along with their most defining tale; the mast once held a sail woven from the last remaining feathers of the great creature Pegasus. The canons had caused an entire fleet of a corrupt king to sink to the bottom of the ocean. The bowsprit had pierced straight through the heart of a kraken twice the size of the ship itself. The hull used to carry the name 'Jewel of the Realm' multiple centuries ago.

Fortunately, Emma was too captivated by his stories to notice a few members of the crew sleazily leering at her. But he did, and while shooting them dangerous glares, he made a mental note of the ones he'd afterwards threaten to throw overboard if they ever dared to look at her the wrong way again.

His mood lightened considerably when he shifted his gaze back to her. She was fascinated by everything she saw, and her joy was contagious. He smiled gently, once again offering his hand, glad that this time she took it with less reluctance. ''Now, how about I show you the Captain's Quarters?''

She raised an eyebrow at his suggestive tone, but nodded nonetheless. That was his cue to open the door, leading her below deck. He was the first to enter the spacious room, taking a look around to decide on what to tell her about first. However, Emma had never descended a staircase in her life, and tripped on a step halfway down. Killian reacted quickly, preventing her from dropping to the floor by wrapping his arms around her torso. Her hands frantically reached for something to hold onto, resulting in her grabbing the collar of his jacket.

With a collective breath of relief at her safety, they steadied themselves on each other. When her gaze lifted up to look into his eyes, they both noticed the utter lack of space between them. ''You know, when I imagined you falling for me, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind,'' he grinned, savoring her close proximity for however long she would allow it.

''You could have warned me or something,'' she breathed out, but there was little anger in it.

The dim light of the moon and the candles in the cabin illuminated her features, accentuating the beauty of her emerald eyes and revealing a few freckles he hadn't noticed before. She seemed quite speechless, but the tightening grip on his collar told him enough. In response, he gradually lowered his hand and hook down to her waist, watching her reaction through his eyelashes while he did so. ''Most people say thank you after I've saved their life,'' he whispered, noticing that she made no move to put distance between them.

She hummed, eyes half closed, her tongue flicking over her lips as they slowly neared his. ''Does a pirate like you have much experience with that?''

It was like the most innocent stab to the heart; flirtatious and with no ill intentions to speak of, but nevertheless a direct jab at old wounds. The air between them turned cold in an instant as he pressed his lips together in a tight line, clenching his jaw at the memory of his failure to save Milah and Liam.

''No,'' he muttered, his voice unsteady. When he took a step back, it felt like miles between them.

Pulling away from the imminent kiss felt thoroughly self-destructive, but then again, that's what he was, always had been and always would be. She had just made him forget it for the briefest of moments. Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. Especially nothing good.