Honestly, the rocks were more comfortable than the tub. The bath was splendid for short durations, but not for an entire night. Even with Swan resting nearby—stubbornly insisting on staying with him in the bathroom, despite the presence of the bed in the next room—it was one of the least pleasant nights in his long memory.

Killian couldn't remember passing out (again—that was happening far too often lately); he just knew that one minute, he was waiting for Emma's return, and the next, he was surrounded by water. From what he'd been told, that was what revived him. He had been feeling parched and sluggish all day, so he certainly felt physically better. But he was itching to move, and tired of being confined—not just to the tub, but to the room, too. He'd have to find open water soon.

You can't just walk out of here, though; can you, mate? That was what got to him the most: knowing that this bloody tail, despite it being truly a part of him, was also a curse, even if it wasn't of the dark magic variety. Because, yet again, something was placing a barrier between he and Emma.

Emma stirred from her sleeping position on the bathroom rug. This is certainly not what I'd envisioned for our first night spent together. Still, it had been pleasant to watch her sleep; he had crossed his arms on the tub's edge and was resting his chin on them for that express purpose. The worries and stresses that were so clearly written on her face (at least, to him) during the day melted away. He longed to see her that at peace all the time.

Green eyes slowly opened and found his, making him smile immediately. "Morning, beautiful."

"Isn't it too early for that?" she replied sleepily.

"Never with you, love."

"Did you sleep?"

"A bit. You?"

"A bit." She stretched. "Are you doing ok?"

"I'm doing ok," he lied.

Her face fell. "No you're not." Of course she'd catch that. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He sighed. Do I want to talk about the fact that my own blood is forcing me into the ocean, away from you? He knew he had to, though.

"I can't stay here, Emma."

She glanced down, dejectedly. "I know."

He had promised not to let her down. Yet now he was being forced to.

To his surprise, she crawled over to the tub, keeping the blanket around her shoulders, and mimicked his position on the edge of the bath right next to him.

After holding his gaze for a few seconds, she closed her eyes. "I don't—," she started, and then sighed, pressing her forehead against her arms. "I almost lost you twice in the last two days; I'm scared to let you go." Then she opened her eyes again to stare at him. "You sure you don't like the tub?"

He smiled. "Love, I wouldn't like the tub even if I still had legs. But thank you for getting me in here."

"Well I wasn't about to let you turn into a goldfish cracker."

"So now we get into the fish jokes." She grinned back, and he couldn't keep his own in.

It was bittersweet, though. He lived for these quiet, shared moments—yesterday afternoon was an especial treat, to be in such close proximity, ignoring their worries and problems—even those present—for a few hours. How much would they be able to do that if he was confined to the frigid ocean?

"Where will you go?"

He'd given it little thought. "I suppose back to the beach I spent the prior night; it seemed secluded—no roads or anything."

"Where was it?"

"Outside town; the coast was a bit rocky."

"That sounds like where Elsa's sister washed up. It's only really accessible from the mine. It'd be a good spot to lay low, if that's what you were going for."

"I don't suppose I have another option, do I?"

She reached over for his hand and squeezed; she smiled, but he could see the sadness in her eyes. "I'll call my dad; he can help us get you there."

"We best do it soon, before they day gets much lighter." It must have been very early, as the sun was not yet in view through the room's only window.

"Alright," she said, and stood up. She pulled a towel from the rod and threw it at him. "Might want to dry off before you get in the truck; my dad would kill you if you got the seats wet."

"That would be quite a fish fry."

"Don't you start, too," she gently laughed.

He lifted himself up with his arms to a seated position on the edge of the tub, and swung his tail out across it. He was probably making a mess, but it's not like anyone would be using the room in the foreseeable future. He couldn't shake the feeling of finality as he dried and prepared to leave, even though he had faith Emma or someone would figure this out.

"Do you want to wear your jacket?" Emma called from the next room. "Like, for protection, or a disguise or something?"

Yes, because this tail is so easy to hide. "I think I'll be fine, but I'll wear it if you think I should." The exchange felt almost domestic.

She came and stood in the doorway, staring at him and concentrating on something. "What is it, love?"

"I think you do need a disguise."

"It's a little hard to cover all this up," he said, gesturing to his lower half.

"No; I mean your face. If they think you're gone, what will happen if they see you in the passenger seat of the truck?"

She has a point. "What do you propose?"

She thought. "I'll ask my dad to bring something."

David arrived 15 minutes later. Killian already had his jacket and a shirt on (he jokingly protested that they didn't match his tail, at which Emma rolled her eyes), and David provided what he called a "baseball" cap and a pair of sunglasses. He thought both were ridiculous, but he obliged in wearing them. (David may also have threatened to let him "flop down the stairs"; it was awkward enough that he was going to be carried out, but he wouldn't suffer the indignity of it being suggested that he "flop" anywhere ever.)

They got out without issue and without being seen and took off for the mine entrance, with Emma and her mother following in the bug.

The disguise proved worthwhile when they drove past Cruella—she didn't notice anything.

They rode in silence, until they got out of town and the terrain grew more wooded, when David spoke up. "Hey, Killian," which took him by surprise—David had only ever referred to him as "Hook". "I know you're still coming to terms with this, but...well, it's kind of cool."

"I believe your daughter shares your outlook." I might if it wasn't such a hindrance.

"Do you?"

"Mate, I've spent the better part of my adult life avoiding mercreatures; they've only given me trouble. That fact doesn't seem to have changed."

David pondered that for a moment. "Well, Emma won't stop until this is figured out—I can guarantee it."

Killian smiled. "On that, we are in agreement."

The rest of the journey went easily, though being carried down into a mine shaft was an experience he hoped never to repeat.

The beach was quiet and undisturbed, and still a bit dark as it waited for the sun's rays to crest the cliffs at the the far end. David set Killian down in the shallows, and Killian shirked his clothing.

Snow came forward once he was settled, digging through her bag and pulling out two small objects. "I found these at the loft. Emma, if you can enchant them, maybe they can be used to communicate." She handed them to Emma: two seashells.

NOW we find shells, he grumbled internally. Though if he hadn't been searching, they wouldn't have found him.

Emma held one in either hand, concentrating. The shells began to glow as she worked her magic; he'd never tire of watching that. She stopped after a minute and handed one to him. "Wanna test it out?"

He brought it up to his mouth and spoke into it. "Like this?" he said into the opening.

Emma had the other one by her ear, but jerked it away when he spoke due to the excessive volume. "Yeah, it works. Maybe keep it down, though?" He just laughed; it was the first truly amusing thing to come out of all this.

Emma hung back after David and Snow left to head back into town. "Will you be ok by yourself?"

"I'll manage, Swan. You needn't worry about me."

"Just...don't get into any trouble, ok?"

"When have I ever done that?" he said sarcastically.

She smirked. "I'll stop by around lunch, ok?"

"Alright. See you then." She leaned down to give him a quick kiss before heading back to the mine.

After she left, he dove into the surf. He expected to need to reacclimate himself to the movement, but of course, he didn't. It truly felt like he'd been doing this his whole life.

With nothing else to do—and he hated idleness—he decided to explore what was available to him. Daylight made it much easier to see underwater, revealing the jagged depths of the coast. It wasn't particularly picturesque, but it was unlike anything he'd seen before. Typically, a pirate tried to minimize his time under the water, yet here he found himself entranced by the graceful movements of a simple bed of kelp.

There wasn't much in the way of wildlife, but certainly enough to keep the local fishermen busy. He knew fish traveled together, and had seen his fair share of schools from above, but it was another thing entirely to watch them weave along together down here, the light shimmering off their scales as they moved. (It made him wonder if the sun had a similar effect on his own.)

It was all enthralling, but hardly useful. Granted he wasn't a leader here in Storybrooke, but the more he became ingrained in the town, the more he felt he had to offer—and possibly be able to redeem himself. That was part of why he'd began helping Belle with research at the library; he should be there right now, continuing research on the hat or how to get these so-called Queens of Darkness out of town (seeing as how he failed spectacularly with Ursula). Or he should be helping Emma or David track someone or something down. Or even just spending time with Henry, keeping the lad safe while the others managed the danger.

A voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Killian?" It was coming from the shell.

"Emma?" he asked quietly. He'd been exploring longer than he thought.

"Where are you? I'm at the beach."

"I'll be right there."

The sun was streaming through the water directly overhead, indicating that it was indeed noon. He reached the surface quickly, though he was farther out than he thought he was. Emma was far away, but he could see her relax when he broke through. He dove back in to get to the beach quicker; traveling underwater was much easier than trying to stay above.

When he came back up a minute later, Emma was sitting down on a rocky area closer to the water and pulling food out of a bag from Granny's. She looked up when she heard the water break around him, a smile lighting up her face. When he was close enough to pull himself up on the rock next to her, she reached out to push his hair out of his face.

"I didn't realize these worked underwater."

"Aye, a distinct advantage over your talking phones."

"Definitely." She smirked and then bit into her grilled cheese. It warmed him to see how excited she was to see him, but he wished he hadn't had to leave her side in the first place.

They ate in silence for a bit, until she spoke up. "What did you do this morning?"

"Nothing of consequence. Anything happen in town?"

"Nothing exciting. You had to see something interesting down there."

"Anything down there pales compared to you." She laughed and said he was being "corny," but it was the absolute truth.

She stopped eating and grew pensive. "Can...I ask you a question? About...all this?"

He swallowed, nervous for some reason. "Of course you may."

After a pause, she asked, "What's it feel like? Having a tail?"

Her curiosity made him smile. "Well, physically, no different than having legs. It feels like it was always supposed to be there; swimming comes as natural as walking."

"I guess that makes sense. And you're really not cold?"

"Really; it doesn't bother me."

"You sound like Elsa," she laughed. "Is it...fun?"

He chuckled a bit. "I suppose; it can be very freeing." He knew deep down that if there was nothing tying him to land, he'd be much more accepting of the general turn of events; however, that was not the case.

She smiled. "I was worried you'd feel lonely or abandoned down here, but I'm glad you can keep yourself entertained."

Does she really think I'm alright with this? "Swan, I'd much rather be assisting you; you know that, right?" Her smile faded to a look of concern. "I'm useless out here."

She grabbed his hand. "I know you're frustrated, but think of the alternative; you wouldn't be here at all."

You idiot. She was right, and he was acting selfish. "Sorry, love."

"It's ok; I get it. I miss having you nearby. But I'd much rather have this than nothing."

He couldn't help but agree. "Aye, me too."

Hope you guys liked the fish jokes ;)

Thanks for reading! Have a fantastic day!