Here we go, things are starting to happen between our babies; nothing big yet, that's what next chapter is for. Thanks for reading and leaving reviews, it means a lot that you keep supporting this story, even despite the zombies.
As soon as the sun starts setting, both the cabin and the clearing around it are plunged into darkness, and Emma lights a candle, placing it on the counter away from the window.
"Blow it out, Swan!" Hook practically yells, jumping to his feet from the couch, crossing the kitchen and pressing his palm down against it. The room is almost completely dark, and Emma glares daggers at him, waiting for her eyes to adjust.
"Why did you do that?!"
"We found this cabin with marvelous amount of divine help, and I'll be damned if I let you attract more people here", he says, and Emma laughs, but it sounds hollow.
"What people? We haven't seen anybody alive since Evan", she says, feeling defeated, refusing to accept that he's right.
"That doesn't mean there's nobody out there. We can't be the last two people in this realm", he says, and she doesn't have to see his face to know that he's giving her that stupid, breathtaking smile.
"So what do you suggest? We stumble around here in the dark every night?"
"Of course not", he says, and brushes past her, hanging his jacket in the place meant for a curtain, effectively blocking the window. "Now you can light it again", he says, and Emma fumbles with the matches, feeling uneasy and a bit panicky even though she knows that the door is firmly closed, and even if something came through it, it would first have to get past Hook.
Once she lights the candle again, Hook goes outside to make sure that no light is escaping around his jacket, and Emma lights a couple more candles, setting them around the kitchen before she goes to open a few cans for dinner.
"As far as I can see, we're good. What's for dinner?" Hook asks, slipping back inside and closing the door with his foot. Emma nudges a can of pears toward him and hands him the fork she had unpacked earlier.
"Fruit again?" Hook grumbles but starts eating, and Emma rolls her eyes.
"It's either that or melted candy bars. We've got beans, but I don't feel like running outside collecting firewood tonight. If you want it, you can cook."
"You're angry with me", he says, always so aware of her mood, but Emma doesn't even look at him. "Emma, what's wrong?"
"I don't know what you're talking about", she says, feeling strangely irritated even though she should be ecstatic; this cabin is an equivalent of winning the lottery, and they were incredibly lucky to find out about it. So then why does she feel so unhappy?
"Are you worried about your lad? Because I'm sure the prince and Snow will take good care of him", he says, and Emma's fork clatters to the table.
"He needs me! I'm his mother and he needs me, and all I ever do is leave!" She yells at him, standing up from the table and starting for the door. None of this is his fault, but he's the only one here and she needs to let it all out before she goes insane. When she passes by him he grabs her hand and pulls her down in his lap, his arms holding her against him gently but firmly. She fights him, she yells at him to let her go, but he doesn't budge.
"I'm not letting you go out there", he says against her ear, and all the fight goes out of her. She sits there, slumped against him like a ragged doll, crying in big heaving sobs, every fiber of her being longing for her son, for her parents and for a world where everyday life is so much easier.
Hook murmurs nonsense in her ear, his hand combing through her hair, and Emma presses her face against his shoulder, finally accepting that he won't let her go through any of this alone.
Emma stands under the spray of lukewarm water in the bathroom, fed by the well behind the cabin, feeling a bit ashamed of her earlier breakdown, not to mention surprised that Hook hadn't tried to take advantage of her state. As soon as she had calmed down, he let her go, and she grabbed spare clothes and escaped to the bathroom. She takes her time, washing her hair and combing it in front of the mirror, the shadows under her eyes visible even with the soft light coming from a single candle on the sink.
Hook is patiently waiting his turn, sitting on the couch and looking like he hasn't got a care in the world. Emma goes to lock the door, clearing the table and rummaging through the cupboards to keep herself busy because she's exhausted from crying and it's Hook's turn to go to sleep first. She doubts that anyone will come here tonight, dead or alive, but they've come such a long way to throw caution to the wind now.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to bed first?" Hook asks her from the bottom of the stairs and she sits down on the kitchen chair, avoiding the couch because she knows that there's no way she'd be able to stay awake there.
"Goodnight, Hook", she tells him without turning around and listens as he climbs up and settles into bed.
The hours pass slowly, and she finally moves from the uncomfortable chair to the couch, which isn't the most comfortable of places either, but it's marginally better, and an hour before it's Hook's turn to keep watch, she falls asleep, sliding sideways until her head settles against the armrest.
Emma wakes up screaming, shooting up from the couch and stumbling right into Hook's arms. It's still dark outside, and she's shaking like a leaf, feeling cold and even more tired than she had felt before.
"I fell asleep", she says dazedly, and Hook picks her up and carries her upstairs, settling her under the covers, ignoring her protests.
"It's my turn to keep watch, sweetheart", he tells her, and Emma feels herself drifting, his smell surrounding her, making her feel safe and relaxed, comforted by the fact that a few hours ago he was occupying the same bed she's lying in now. It feels like he's still in the room with her, even though he's not.
By the time she wakes up in the morning, Hook had already discovered a way to the basement and he's positively glowing with excitement as he leads her down the rickety steps.
Emma holds the candle up and looks around, unable to believe her eyes. In between the animal heads mounted on the walls, there are more weapons than she had ever seen in one place. Rifles, pistols, swords, hatchets and bows, everything looks in perfect condition, gleaming in the candlelight. Emma reaches for a Magnum revolver, but Hook pulls her away toward a bow that looks similar to the one Snow uses.
"We can make arrows for this, and if you're any good with it, you can hunt and we can finally have meat for dinner", he says, looking at her expectantly.
"Or we can just use one of these guns", Emma tells him, and he shakes his head.
"There are no bullets anywhere in the cabin. I already looked."
Emma glances around and realizes that even though the weapons are real, they are mounted in such a way that it's clear that they are just for show. She's glad that whoever owned this cabin loved both cold and fire weapons equally because swords, hatchets and bows will definitely come in handy. She chooses one of the swords from the wall and hands Hook's sword back to him before going upstairs to change.
After breakfast they explore the woods and find birch saplings for the arrows. Hook tells her that cedar would be preferable, but unfortunately there isn't any in these woods.
"Where did you even learn how to make arrows?" Emma asks as they make their way back, feeling a bit guilty because she still hadn't told him that she has never tried to shoot from a bow. She figures she can learn, but mostly she hopes that it's a skill that had somehow been passed to her from Snow.
"In Neverland. The Lost boys are quite adept at archery, and kind enough to teach me how to make them."
"What were you doing in Neverland?"
"Which time?" He asks, and Emma grins.
"Now you're just trying to impress me."
"I'm always trying to impress you", he tells her, his voice softening, and Emma looks at him steadily, not really sure how to respond to that.
The moment is ruined when somebody grabs her hair from behind, and she can see her entire life flashing in front of her eyes, the smell of rotting flesh making her sick. She struggles to get away and manages somehow, losing quite a few strands of hair, turning around and driving a sword through the zombie's eye socket.
"I hate to say this because your hair is lovely, but I think you should cut it off", Hook says, coming to her side and running his fingers though it, removing bits of zombie flesh from it. Emma's skin is crawling and she knows he's right, but she can't imagine parting with her locks, not after having her hair this long since she can remember.
"I'll keep it in a bun from now on", she says when he's done, and they start back for the cabin.
The saplings are pretty dry, but it still takes a week before he can start shaping them into arrows. In the meantime, they search the woods for fallen feathers, eventually coming to a small lake and finding a goose nest next to it. The geese are gone, but there are plenty of feathers left in it, and they take every single one.
Since Hook only has one hand, Emma helps him a lot with the arrows, and she can feel them getting closer every day. He keeps making innuendos, and she keeps shutting him down, but he just smiles at her, like it's obvious to him that she won't be able to resist for much longer.
The worst thing is that she knows he's right.
Almost a month passes before the arrows are ready, and their food supply is running pretty low. Emma marches 30 paces from the edge of the woods, raises the bow and aims, then lowers it and turns to Hook.
"Don't hover. Can you just go away?" She asks, and he looks genuinely hurt. "You're distracting me", she adds, and then he beams at her. She can't stand seeing him hurt and he's taking advantage of it, but she's way past caring. It's happened slowly, and it's too late for her to do anything about it.
Hook takes a couple of steps backward, giving her more room, and she raises the bow again, letting the arrow fly and completely missing the tree she had been aiming for.
"It seems that archery isn't hereditary after all", he says, and she grits her teeth, taking another arrow and trying again.
"And you're doing it wrong", Hook tells her, coming to stand behind her.
"Oh come on. Now you're going to tell me that you know how to shoot this too?"
"Of course I know how", Hook says, aligning her hips with his hand. "You'd be hard pressed to find a weapon I can't use."
Emma finds it hard to focus on the target with him so close to her, but she still makes an effort, trying to ignore the way he smells and feels, and follow all his tips to the letter.
After a few more misses, she starts hitting the target, and soon it's clear that she really is her mother's daughter. It makes her feel closer to Snow somehow, and even though she still misses her and Charming and Henry terribly, she begins to accept that this is her life now, and that there are upsides to it, one of which is getting closer to Hook. If they had stayed in Storybrooke, she doubts it would've happened, and that would've been a damn shame because they're so good together.
Three days later, she manages to shoot her first game, a baby deer, and starts crying because it looks right at her before drawing its last breath. Hook wipes her tears away and tells her that she's magnificent, and a couple of hours later they eat their first meaty dinner in over a month.
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