Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time, nor am I affiliated with Adam Horowitz or Eddy Kitsis.
A/N: I'm sort of shoving Greg Mendell aside in this fic, because fuck that guy. Enjoy your in-story coma, you lying fool. Onto more pleasant matters, thank you so very much for your reviews/favourites/follows. Things have been so hectic that you are all such welcome relief. Hope you enjoyed last week's episode, only two more weeks to go until the new one! A happy birthday to our very own Colin O'Donoghue, drop him a tweet if you haven't already. Enjoy the chapter!
"Hey, beautiful."
Emma's expression didn't so much as flicker as she closed the door behind her. A lesser man would have been deterred but Hook lay back with a grin.
"Where's your boat?" Emma asked. She was not in the mood for pleasantries and the cup of god awful coffee in her hand was part of the reason why.
"Ship," Hook corrected with the appropriate amount of disdain. "And good morning to you, too. Sleep well? I did. I had some rather interesting dreams. Very…vivid."
"They involve me punching you in the face?"
"Significantly lower than the face, love, and not 'punching' so much as…well." He smiled and Emma wondered how much she would have to drink in order to forget the conversation.
"Remind me to thank the wonders of modern medicine for getting you back to your old self so quickly."
"You would have me any other way?"
Emma mentally replayed the rebuttal I would have you a lot of other ways and then berated herself for even considering using that as a reply. Hook would tear it into innuendo-laden shreds.
"Your boat," she repeated instead.
Hook's smile was replaced with thin-lipped annoyance. It occurred to Emma that he didn't like people using incorrect sailing terminology. Well, that knowledge would come in very useful for levelling the field.
"Ship. It's in the docks."
Emma arched an eyebrow.
"Nice try. You think that wasn't the first place we checked?"
"Do you think I'd announce my presence by sailing into Storybrooke in plain sight?" Hook seemed slightly offended. "Despite what you may think, I can be subtle."
Emma channelled her original reaction (a very loud and disbelieving HA!) into something a little more refined.
"You're right," she said, her sarcastic smile on fine form. "I guess it was the leather and eyeliner that made me think differently."
Hook nodded, accepting this. "It does tend to have that effect."
Emma said a brief, silent prayer that Hook hadn't asked her to apply his eyeliner while he was lying incapacitated, and then got back to business.
"So, the docks."
Hook noted her disbelieving tone with a condescending smile.
"It's a ship, darling. Where else would it be?"
Emma still wasn't convinced.
"You have magic on your side," she reminded him. "Cora could have shrunk it down or turned it into a mouse or something."
Hook grinned as though he found the idea ludicrous.
"Rest assured that I would never allow Cora to alter the Jolly Roger as drastically as that."
Neither of them mentioned that lack of permission would hardly be enough to stop Cora from doing something.
"Now," Hook continued in a more serious tone, "what I want to know is why you're looking for my ship." There was a hint of a challenge in his voice. "Think I've got Cora stashed away on there?"
"Call it a natural curiosity," Emma returned, although she had difficulty imagining Cora hiding and cowering anywhere, least of all a cargo hold.
In truth, she wasn't looking for anything in particular. It had been agreed that if an item seemed suspicious or appeared to be of use against Cora, then David and Mary Margaret would take it. Emma had elected to stay behind to question Hook.
"How did you get to Storybrooke on your ship?"
There was a sarcastic tilt to Hook's smile.
"Would you believe I sailed in?"
"Remind me to call the slackers at border patrol. They really dropped the ball on this one."
She prepared herself for another quick retort but Hook seemed done with their tête-à-tête and shifted the topic.
"How did you know I arrived by ship?"
"Archie told me." Then, with more than a hint of accusation, Emma added, "He's pretty shaken up."
"The cricket?" Hook assumed an innocent air that Emma doubted had ever fooled anyone. "I barely even threatened him."
"You almost performed unwanted brain surgery on him with your hook. Sounds pretty threatening to me."
Though Hook dropped his faux-innocence, the expression that replaced it was equally guilt-free. He clearly did not regret what happened with Archie.
"If he forgot to mention that my ship was invisible then he may have benefited from a little head examining. Spectacularly unobservant for a psychiatrist." He sighed in the heavy, dramatic way that Emma had come to recognise as a precursor for something unpleasant masquerading as a light comment. "It seems I would have done this town a favour by killing him. Then you could have hired someone halfway competent."
Emma refused to rise to the latter part of the taunt.
"He did say the ship was invisible." She had the grace to look mildly guilty. "We just thought Cora had cast some kind of spell to make him say that and forget where it actually was."
Hook's smile was of bitter amusement. "Sad state of affairs when you can't even trust the personified version of a conscience."
Emma bristled.
"This isn't about trust. Logic-"
"Shouldn't have interfered with your instincts," Hook interrupted. It wasn't a gentle upbraiding; he expected better of her and he made his irritation clear. "When magic is involved, what you assume to be logical counts for nothing. Instinct is everything."
Emma was uncertain about this latest twist in their verbal spar (why does Hook care about my instincts?) though shifted her face into a carefully cultivated mask designed not to show any emotion.
"It's led me wrong before."
Hook didn't accept this excuse. He dismissed it with a shake of his head.
"You don't trust people? Fine. At least have faith in your own abilities."
If Hook knew, if he understood the places that Emma's faulty instincts had landed her, he would not be so quick to urge her to listen to them. It felt like every time Emma was right about something, she was wrong about three other things. She had been wrong about Neal, she had been wrong about Regina and she hadn't listened to Henry or August until it was almost too late.
Still, there wasn't a chance in hell of her telling Hook any of this. She shrugged off the bad memories and focused on the present. Logically (Hook be damned, she was still going to use logic) the boat would be in a dock. There was nowhere else that it could be accessible, and of course there would be some kind of protection around it. Invisibility worked just as well as anything else.
"So, the docks?"
The repetition acted as a request for confirmation rather than its earlier incarnation of flat scepticism. Hook nodded and Emma reached for her phone. As she scrolled through her contacts to find Mary Margaret, she asked Hook,
"How do we find it?"
When he didn't reply, Emma looked up from her phone.
"A better question would be, why should I tell you?" Hook's grin was wicked. "I have a rather delightful image of your father feeling his way along thin air like a confused mime artist."
"Replace that with the picture of David throwing rocks into empty bays until he hits something, and you have my plan."
Emma had counted on Hook's wish to protect his ship and judging from the expression on his face, she had been correct.
"My ship has withstood cannons," he said, a faint note of pride in his voice. "A few errant rocks pose no threat."
"So I'll tell David to upgrade to something else. A flaming torch, maybe."
Hook looked as though he wanted to congratulate Emma on her cunning whilst strangling her. He tried to appear unconcerned, even derisive.
"You wouldn't let your father loose with fire."
Emma's lifted eyebrow was a silent try me. Hook tried to stare her down, secure in the knowledge that the ice in his eyes had made many an opponent quail before. Emma's calm but determined eyes greeted his and, after a few prolonged moments, Hook blinked and looked away. For all his talk of moral codes, he was ungracious in defeat; there was a petulance to his expression that would not have looked out of place on a toddler.
"Fine."
Not five minutes later, Emma was in a deserted waiting room talking to her mother on the phone.
"Did Hook tell you where the ship is?"
"He says it's invisible."
Mary Margaret's scoff crackled down the line.
"Convenient."
"Yeah." Emma rummaged absently around her jean pockets and fished out enough change for a drink. She wedged the phone between her shoulder and her ear and slotted the money into the machine. "But it seems like Archie was telling the truth. Hook said the ship was the in fifth bay along the docks when you take the exit from Elverston Street. There should be a box of gritting sand on the dock, if you just throw some of that around then it'll settle on the ship."
"Are you sure you can trust Hook?"
Emma's finger hovered over the button marked Coffee.
"I believe him on this," she replied, pressing down.
To her credit, Mary Margaret did not doubt her daughter further.
"We're on our way," she said, and sure enough there was the sound of a car door slamming in the background. "Henry's with Ruby at the diner. Do you want us to drop him off at the hospital?"
Emma considered this for a moment. She remembered Henry's frustration at being cooped up in a room all day and knew it would be better for his sanity if he could stay with friends instead. She would just have to learn to live with the gnawing worry that something would happen to him. Being a mother was fun.
"No, leave him there," she said, watching coffee fill up the small plastic cup. She had gone to a different machine this time, one that hopefully offered better flavors. "Just ring me if you find anything."
"You're not going to drop by later?"
Emma scooped up her change that the machine spat out and waited an extra moment for the coffee to cool. It certainly smelled better than the last one.
"I'm going to keep an eye on Hook." There was a silence on the other end of the phone. "What?"
"Emma, Hook isn't going anywhere. He is literally tied to the bed."
From Mary Margaret's tone of voice, Emma felt as though she had been caught in the act of doing something she shouldn't. Embarrassment and indignation flushed her cheeks.
"That doesn't mean he isn't still dangerous." Emma heard the defensive edge in her own tone and calmed it down slightly. "I just don't want us to be so preoccupied with the stranger that we forget Hook is still a threat."
Mary Margaret didn't buy this. Emma wasn't sure that she herself did, either. But she was still getting useful information out of Hook and as long as he still had things left to tell, she would continue to visit him.
"Don't get so distracted by Hook that you forget the stranger can hurt us, too."
Mary Margaret's warning was soft but, to Emma's mind, completely unnecessary. She found herself agreeing, if only to placate her mother, but once the conversation ended she began to mull it over.
Don't get distracted? She was not distracted; she knew what was important and she knew how to achieve it. If that meant being the only person to willingly visit Hook, so be it. Besides, she knew how to get him to talk. They understood each other in a small and kind of twisted way.
Emma left the waiting room with endless justifications running through her mind. In her haste, she left her coffee in the machine.
In a concerted effort to prove Mary Margaret wrong, Emma spent the rest of the day enquiring about the stranger and doing everything in her power to help his situation. Unfortunately, there was only so many things she could do to assist a man in a coma and eventually Dr. Whale had had to ask her to leave.
When Mary Margaret came to take over her shift, Emma couldn't face asking her to check in on Hook. She left without a word on the topic, and it was an uncomfortable drive home questioning if her priorities had shifted.
The next day, Emma went back to Hook.
"We found your boat."
"Ship. And I don't much care for the smug tone, love, seeing as I told you exactly where it was and how to find it."
Emma didn't tell him that her smugness was due to the fact that he had been telling the truth. It gave her more credibility to interrogate someone who wasn't a proven liar one hundred percent of the time.
She closed the door behind her and took her usual seat in a hard plastic chair by the window. She was in here so often, threatening or arguing or coercing, that standing up was no longer a desirable option.
"Find anything interesting?" Hook didn't sound overly concerned.
"Enough gold to pay for your medical bills," Emma replied promptly. "Although I don't think that doubloons are accepted currency anymore."
Hook's mouth became a very thin line. "You stole my gold?"
"I stole your stolen gold," Emma confirmed with a smile that she tried very hard not to make vindictive. "Gave it to Henry to hold onto for awhile. He'll probably try and spend it on comic books and candy. Enjoy that knowledge."
For a moment, Hook looked murderous. Then something seemed to click inside his head and he relaxed.
"No matter. They were counterfeit," he said, immensely pleased with himself now that he knew only the worthless treasure had been filched.
Emma frowned. "How do you know which ones we took?"
"They were the only ones you would be able to find," Hook said, not issuing a challenge but stating a fact. Before Emma could call him out on this, he continued. "How's your lad?"
Emma's forehead creased even more.
"Wanting to take sailing lessons."
Hook grinned and Emma remembered her own, decidedly less amused reaction to Henry's wish. She had a feeling that the request would be revisited during every major holiday until she gave in.
"It isn't funny. Pirate isn't a viable career choice for him."
Hook dismissed this with a scoff.
"Of course it is." An idea occurred to him, lending a newfound enthusiasm to his expression. "Once I'm on my feet, I'll show him the basics of sailing."
Hook's genuine interest at the prospect gave Emma pause. Not to reconsider her son becoming a pirate (the phrase 'over my dead body' came to her mind) but to realise the bond that Henry had so quickly - and inexplicably - formed with Hook. Emma had put it down to hero worship on Henry's part, though Hook was certainly no hero, and mere tolerance from Hook. And yet…
"What?" Hook asked, and Emma realised that she had been staring thoughtfully at him.
"Nothing." She resumed her nonchalance a moment too late. "I was just thinking how you could teach Henry on your magic boat of invisibility and how well that would end for everyone."
Hook's enthusiasm faded and in its place was a stern look.
"Listen, love. As dull as you would undoubtedly find a lesson on nautical terms, if you call my ship a 'boat' one more time then I will be forced to become your teacher. And you would have to take notes because there would be a test."
Emma waited for Hook to crack a smile. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes.
"Fine, 'ship' it is." A thought occurred, and she struck while she had the chance. "On one condition."
Hook perked up at this. "Name it, love."
"Tell me how you got to Storybrooke."
Hook looked mildly disappointed. He settled himself back down and, mostly to himself, said,
"What a waste of a condition. Alright," he continued, louder this time, "I used the bean taken from the giant. I'm assuming you remember the lake where I so gallantly spared your life in a swordfight?"
Emma pretended to think for a moment.
"You mean the one where you got cocky and I knocked you out using a compass? Yeah, I remember."
Hook's lips twitched, although Emma couldn't tell whether it was in amusement or annoyance.
"The lake used its restorative properties to revitalize the bean and then created a portal which was, happily for Cora and myself, ship-sized."
"The bean," Emma mused. With a wry twist to her voice, she added. "Not so dried up, dead and useless after all?"
Hook's smile was easier to read this time. It was one of those rare, genuine moments that belonged to Killian Jones rather than Captain Hook.
"It seems it just needed the right encouragement."
There was a softness in his voice that Emma had never heard before. It was completely different from the lowered tones in which he had spoken his past threats and insinuations. On anyone else, Emma would have called it gentle affection.
Mary Margaret had called Hook a distraction, and Emma was beginning to worry that she was right.
"Speaking of magic liquid," Hook announced, shattering the moment entirely, "I'd like some rum."
Emma happily latched onto this swift turn in conversation.
"Magic liquid? Really?"
"Named for the time we accidentally got a nine year old drunk," Hook explained with a remorseless grin. "It's an amusing tale, actually."
"One which you will not be repeating to my son."
Hook's expression made a mockery of discipline.
"You're not going to let him have any fun?"
Emma was not swayed. She would not take parenting tips from a pirate Captain.
"My son won't drink, he won't get into fights and he can't have a girlfriend until he's…ever."
It was excessive, and certainly not something that Emma would stick to, but it sounded ideal. If Henry turned out as troublesome as Emma was when she was a teenager, she would be in for a hell of a time.
"All mistakes that you made in the past, I take it?" Hook asked.
Again, he sounded genuinely interested in her life and Emma couldn't understand why. Was it part of some trap? Was he learning everything he could about her, her past, her weaknesses, and then reporting them back to Cora?
Try something new, darling. It's called trust.
"All except for the girlfriend part," she admitted after a silence that was too long to go unnoticed. Hook didn't comment on it, though his slight smile was back.
"Glad to hear it." When Emma looked up, he said, "I'd hate to think the effort I put into charming you has gone completely to waste."
He was back to Captain Hook and, taking his cue, Emma retreated behind her own persona.
"You were trying to charm me? I thought that was just your elaborate way of asking me to punch you."
"It's an unintended side-effect."
They danced like this for a short while longer, tripping each other up with words and innuendos, each playing at trust and hoping to reveal a weakness in the other, not necessarily to exploit but to understand. It was a tenuous alliance but, for the moment, that was all that it needed to be. The unspoken fear was that one day soon, their pre-established allegiances and loyalties would come into play and all of this progress would be for nothing.
Chapter outtake based on a quote from the official In the Name of the Brother podcast with Adam and Eddy:
"There was a really great scene that got cut because of time, but it was in the middle of all this chaos, Captain Hook comes out and says, "What the hell is THIS?" And it was Jell-O. Cause he had never seen it before and it was just him experiencing hospital Jell-O. But alas! It did not make the cut! Maybe on the DVD."
"Hey," Emma greeted as she opened the door. "Brought you something."
Hook looked up, a small smile playing at his lips. His cuts were beginning to heal and he was looking brighter by the day.
"What did I do to deserve such generos-" Emma placed the plateful of Jell-O into his hand. Hook stared at it for a moment before looking back to Emma. "Am I being punished?"
"No. Well, not right now." Emma didn't try to hide her amusement at Hook's perplexed expression. "It's Jell-O. It's food. Sort of."
Hook tilted the plate so that the lurid green mound slid towards his outstretched thumb. His attempt to poke the dessert ended badly when his thumb became submerged. He removed the digit with the ultimate expression of distaste.
"It looks like something from the bottom of the sea."
For some reason, Emma came to the Jell-O's defense.
"It's not that bad."
"It's slimy and unnaturally colored." Hook handed the plate back. "I'm not eating that."