Chasing Swan.
Captain Hook, the fabled pirate, the buccaneer, handsomest man alive, captain of the fearsome Jolly Roger, famed assassin of the seven seas... sleeping under a bench in a Brooklyn park for a week.
Still, he refused to budge. Swan was nearby, he knew that much. And it wasn't until he was asked by a local cop to kindly take to the shelter showers that he finally felt humbled enough. Like any well-formed sailor, he knew and valued the importance of hygiene, and the idea of reencountering Emma while looking and smelling like a homeless guy didn't give his odds for credibility too much of a boost. So he swallowed pride, accepted a bar of soap and showered accordingly.
Once out of there he made sure he was as far from the shelter as possible. Dignity first.
He was fast running out of money too. He sat and remembered in anguish his days as a child, where after being abandoned by his father at a dock far from home, he survived on scavenging and begging before taking to stealing and he truly didn't fancy becoming a pickpocket in New York City... Not after he had sworn himself a changed man. A lifetime of delinquency would NOT get the best of him any further.
Still, he was concerned when he had paid for his final falafel three days earlier. Being no stranger to the effects of starvation, he was far from happy.
As usual, he made his round in the neighborhood, taking second glances at all blondes around and hoping no one would report him for loitering, which was exactly what he was doing.
Just as hopelessness began to set in, the sound of laughter caught his attention: He turned and found a school bus of kids at a red light.
Children always lightened his heart. Since Milah, he had never quite seen himself fathering a child with a woman, but more than once he had glanced at Emma in Neverland and imagined her with his son or daughter in her arms; that thought alone was like getting hit with a bucket of ice cold water, the definitive moment when a man knows his heart is doomed to either find the perfect mate or be broken forever. And as his eyes ran the length of the bus, eyeing each little one with a happy grin, one face made him stop cold.
"Henry..." He gasped, standing suddenly and taking on heel speed as the bus sped away when the green light came. He managed to jump over hoods and honking cars, not getting run over (boy did he remember THAT feeling), trying his best not to lose sight of the bus. He caught breath at every stop and ran whenever the bus started to move again... and finally, the bus allowed Henry down.
Killian took his spyglass from his inner pocket and followed the boy with his eye as he entered the gate of a tall building apartment. He huffed with relief, and started his way to the main door... but stopped himself from his pursuit, a shock wave taking over him.
Emma was walking around the corner, cell phone to her ear, groceries bag in one hand, purse in another, looking as wonderful as ever, if not more, smiling and laughing, her gorgeous, golden hair bouncing up and down with each step she took.
She was as beautiful, as perfect and luminous as he remembered her. And he didn't know peace until that very moment, when tears threatened to leave his eyes as he whispered her name, "Emma..." an ear-to-ear smile cruising his face.
He'd found her... He'd cruised realms, let go off his home, the Jolly and forfeit his life as a pirate for this woman...
It was the last thing he saw before hunger and exhaustion from running at least three miles behind the school bus took over him. His view blackened and he gave in to the vortex beneath his feet as he fell to the ground, unconscious.
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"You all right there, buddy?"
Killian came to and found himself lying on a couch inside someone's home. He sneered and looked at the friendly face before him. It was a man, probably in his fifties, with hair almost as black as his own and a kind smile on his face.
"Wh... what happened?" Killian whispered, wincing.
"You passed out there, mister." The man chuckled. "Flat-out, pancaked on the ground. You've been sleeping all afternoon, I was about to call 911."
Killian tried to sit up, but his head was spinning far worse than with any bestial hangover he had ever endured in his 300 plus year lifetime. "I feel bloody awful..."
"It's no wonder..." the man chuckled. "My wife says she saw you run five blocks, pal." He reached behind him and produced a plate of turkey slices and potato mashing. "Not to mention you've been at the park for a week. Dressed in leather, starving and running around like a fool? Pff… Here..."
Starved, he was not about to allow his pride get in the way of his first decent meal in weeks; He literally snatched the plate from the man and grubbed like swine. To hell with all good form and etiquette! The man side smiled and chuckled. "Wow, dude, take it easy, there's more where that came from!" He narrowed his eyes. "You don't strike me as much of a homeless dude, there... for one, your garb, pal... why are you dressed like that?"
Hook could have sworn he felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end at the sound of the same question, but the feeling of gratitude was far more powerful, so he simply ignored the question and continued to stuff his face. When he was done, he raised his big blue eyes to the guy and nodded gently. "Thank you..."
He was being his utmost sincere self when he said it, too.
"So… you have a name buddy?"
He nodded as he wiped his mouth. "Aye… Killian Jones."
The man offered a friendly hand. "I'm Toby."
"Toby?" Hook winced as he shook the man's hand.
"Yeah. I'm the janitor here…." He produced a cigarette and offered one to Killian. "Smoke?"
The prate shook his head. "No thanks, mate… never really was much of a lover of the leaf…"
"Huh…" Toby chuckled. "Good for you. Disgusting habit anyway, it's a miracle I'm still alive." After he lit up, he turned to Killian. "So, Killian… That sounds Irish. You a Mick? Your English is more like… from Cambridge, so…"
A Mick? Cambridge? Killian huffed, completely unaware what the hell the man was talking about, but he simply avoided the issue by grinning and nodding. "Aye…"
"Huh, so you're probably more of a boozer than a smoker, ha…"
Now you're talking! Killian thought. "I have a sweet tooth for rum."
Toby nodded. "I got a flask of that shit somewhere… It was a present. Never touch the stuff…" He stood up and turned to look for it nearby while Killian thanked the Gods under his breath. Toby finally handed him the flask and nodded. "I know of a man's needs…"
"Looks like you have a fine head on your shoulders, mate…" Killian smiled fully as he opened the flask and took a swig; and after a week of abstinence, the raspy feel of his liquor of choice tasted better than it ever had before. "Cheers…"
Toby chuckled. "So, Killian, is it? How did you wind up a bum?"
Killian too another swig from the flask before closing it and sticking it into his pocket. "I've come a long way… looking for someone. I was told she lived in Brooklyn, which led me to these environs… alas, I did not know exactly where she lived… so I sort of… camped in the area."
"She… a dame…" he huffed and drew a large puff from his cigarette. "That will usually drive a man to drinking, that's for sure… So, all that running?"
Killian smiled. "I saw her son, in a yellow transport, with other children. So I ran after it."
"And that got you here?"
"Aye…" Killian nodded happily. "And then I saw her and now my life's woes are at an end…"
The man laughed aloud. "You haven't a clue what you're saying there, Killian… When it comes to broads, your life's woes have only just begun…"
Hook laughed with him and shook his head. "Aye, perhaps… but let's be honest, mate, we go there willingly." He sighed. "My life without her is… pointless, really. Were it not for the hope of seeing her again, I would have died weeks ago. She's my savior. I don't know…" He ran his good hand through his black, shaggy hair. "When you finally meet someone who takes you and uproots you completely to sort of… plant you in brand new soil, and you suddenly realize that you are much more than just… scum rabble; when a woman has that particular influence in your life, when she brings light and hope to an otherwise ineffectual and purposeless existence, well…" He smiled and tilted his head as he once again produced the flask and opened it. "I will gladly concur to a few of life's woes at her side." He looked to the floor. "It's a damn sight better than enduring them alone, I can tell you that…"
Toby nodded. "I can agree to that, mister…" He reached out for Killian's flask, and as the pirate handed him the bottle, Toby spoke again. "So, can I ask you a question?"
"You sated a hungry man, Toby, you are more than entitled to inquire to your heart's content."
Toby scratched his head. "You have a fake hand, there…"
"Aye, quite observant of you."
"What happened there, man?"
"A maritime accident, mate."
"Maritime?" Toby asked, wide-eyed "You're a U.S. Navy guy, or somethin'?"
Killian shook his head. "Alas, no… merely a captain of my own ship, which I sadly do not possess any longer."
"Ah, a freelance guy…"
Hook laughed a healthy laugh. "Aye, you could say that. Quite freelance."
"Is that why you dress like a pirate?"
The young captain sighed. "Aye. I do sort of love the swag, though, don't you?"
Toby laughed. "Does give you a touch of class…"
"Finally, a man with proper tastes!"
Both men laughed together before quieting down.
"So, this… chick you're lookin' for…" Toby licked his lips. "She pretty?2
Killian's face lit up. "Aye. Remarkably, more so than all the stars in the sky." He sat back and sighed, his eyes strayed in the image of his Swan as he painted her in his mind. "And she has a fire… she's no bloody damsel in distress, mate, she's… strong, willful, even. Terrible temper. But she does make the stars look brighter…"
Toby laughed healthily. "You are besotted there, my friend."
"Aye, indeed I am, won't deny it." He bit his lip.
"So, what does this no-bloody-damsel-in-distress look like?"
Killian smiled the whole time. "She's… slender, not overly tall. Long hair, golden like the sun. A perfect smile, a constant flush of red on her cheeks..." He sighed hard. "Her eyes, they speak from her soul. She's quite an open book to me. They shine bright, even on the darkest of nights and direst of toils… Green, mate. As green as a watered field…"
"Huh…" The man nodded. "Kind of sounds like our Emma…"
The Captain shot his face up at the man. "What?"
"Emma Swan. She's on the third floor…" He chuckled. "Quite the knockout."
Hook all but ceased breathing and felt he was probably bound to faint again. "You… know Emma Swan?"
"Of course we do." The man shrugged and sneered. "Told you. I'm the janitor. She lives on the third floor with her boy."
The man immediately noticed how Killian all but lost his color and he frowned as he bit his lip. "Ahhh." He nodded, the situation dawning on him. "So SHE'S your… "savior"."
Killian literally went on his knees, something he hadn't done since the death of his brother. "I beg of you…. Direct me there. Please! It's vital!"
Toby pressed his lips together. "Well…" He shrugged standing up. "I suppose I could let you up there… I like you better than that other guy…"
The sound of Toby's last three words suddenly made Killian's heart stop. "O…Other guy?"
"Yeah, some rich computer nerd she's dating. Ugly guy, stiff, a real snob. Never liked him." Seeing how the handsome sailor had suddenly frozen in panic, Toby laughed. "Now now, don't let that deter you, pal; you go get her! People who don't fight for what they want, deserve what they get and hey, you slept under a bench and starved for a week, Mick, I'm rootin' for ya."
Slightly more downhearted, Killian hoped and prayed that once she recovered her memories, she would see him and remember him… that kiss, that mouth-watering kiss from Neverland, his one single tactile memory of her, if she didn't respond instantly, he'd give it a go. He remembered the look in her eyes when they said goodbye… there was something deep, something that bound them together. His heartache fizzled at the thought of her being only a few stories above him.
"Yes…" he nodded, still put off but determined to win her heart the straight way, as he had promised. "I thank you…"
He was standing up when Toby stopped him. "Whoa whoa, you can't go now, pal, it's late! She's probably asleep by now! Listen…" The man winked. "Stay here, on this couch. The wife and I are cool with it. She's usually up around eight and takes Henry to the bus stop at around nine. So she's having breakfast at around 8:30… Give it a go then."
Killian knew he really could use a good night's sleep. She was there, practically breathing the same air as he was, so he'd definitely go there early the next morning. He kindly accepted Toby's hospitality and allowed himself to drift off into deep sleep.
He rose with the first morning light, found his way to the washroom Toby had indicated and followed the man's instructions: Third floor, door number 311.
He could feel his stomach twist, turn and churn as he reached the third floor. He looked in the direction of the markings on the doors and finally, he stood before number 311. He could hear music stemming from within and he swallowed deep as he closed his eyes and tapped on the door with his right fist.
Nothing.
He repeated the action.
The sound of soft, bare feet walking towards the door made his heart race.
And the door opened… to display the apparition of her… her whole self… His Emma.
There were no words in any language that would accurately describe the sudden joy seeing her again brought to his face as she looked on him, still clad in her night clothes and as beautiful as the morning itself. He felt an inevitable smile split his face and he had to fight not to cry before her.
"Swan… at last…"
….
