I've been resting today after a hard week with work and school, but I had these scenes playing in my mind and could not resist writing them. I hope you enjoy this new chapter. Let me know what you think, how you think the next part should play out, or if you think I'm completely insane.

Hands gripping the steering wheel, she stared into the darkness and wished for one moment that it could swallow her for just a little while. The bile that had climbed through her chest now burnt in her throat, swallowing making the pain worse. Elsa sat next to her, for once silent and unsure as she fingered the edges of her sleeves and sighed out tiny breaths.

"We need to find him," Emma said, giving up on the silence. "We've been through every inch of the woods and there is no sign. Where is she hiding him?"

"I don't know," Elsa said. "I just don't know."

A well-manicured hand knocked on the passenger window, shattering the moment with its gentle pound. Emma opened her door and stood, one foot still inside the car. "Belle?"

"I said I wanted to help. It's not simple though." The brunette was holding a book in one gloved hand. Her red coat shone bright against her features.

"It never is," Emma answered. "What do you know? Can you take us to her?"

Belle pointed in the direction opposite of where they stood, her hand shaking at the idea she was doing this. "I went to her lair once," she said with a shudder. "I don't know that I can find it again, but I want to try. He took me there."

"So he does know," Emma resigned. "It figures."

"Emma," Belle began, her eyes darkening. "There is so much going on right now. I can't even imagine what you're thinking or feeling. Or maybe I can. Maybe I want answers too." The brunette adjusted her bag over her shoulder and pointed again. "But maybe those answers have to wait until we find your father and the Snow Queen."

Emma stepped fully out of the car and walked toward the beginning of the path. "Any chance you could get him to give us a map or something?" She tried to smile, but it was pretty flat in its effect. Elsa climbed out and walked after them, staring at each branch that blew in the cold wind.

"I doubt it would do much good," Elsa chimed in as she walked. "That woman seems to know our every move. She predicts them. She counters them. She's going to know we're coming."

"Then we'll have to be ready," Emma said, shining her flashlight toward the darkened path before them. "We can't leave him out there with them."

All three women walked in silence, the forest seemingly understanding their lack of communication. Emma broke the stillness first, asking Belle if she recognized anything and then again to tell Elsa she didn't care to talk about their examination at the pawnshop.

"I don't understand," Emma said, looking over at Belle for any explanation and then at Killian. Her heart sank as she recognized a coldness that had settled over him. It was too familiar, more than a shadow of a memory of the man he had been. Rumple looked at her expectantly, but she could sense the pride in him. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to turn off the emotions that boiled at the surface.

"I believe you know everyone here," he said with a smile. "Or should I provide introductions."

Taking in a breath, she held up a single hand and backed herself toward the door. "We need your help and you're going to do it," she said, trying to sound confident despite her shaking voice. "Take us to the Snow Queen's ice cave."

"And why would I do that?" he sneered. "You don't control me." His gaze drifted toward his wife, but there was no reaction.

Emma glanced at Belle, who stood motionless beside Killian, her eyes trained on the ground. Even Elsa was standing behind her, not willing to join this fight yet. "You owe me," she said firmly. "I'm allowing Henry to work here. You're getting access to him when you probably shouldn't have access to more than an amoeba."

"That would be Regina that approved of that," Rumple corrected. "You have been hesitant."

"Fine. I don't have time to argue about it. Just rest assured that we'll discuss it later. What's your price for helping us?" Emma asked, seeing out of the corner of her eye as Killian shook his head. "That woman has my father and I need to get him back."

"You overestimate my concern for the Charmings," the older man said. "You assume that I care at all. They really don very little for me."

Emma stalked up to him, one finger pointing strongly. "You care because if you don't do anything you're just proving your enemies right. And you hate to be predictable."

"I don't have any secret intelligence to share," he added. "So your trip here is in vain. Unless you're finally going to ask why our dear Captain Hook is here. I know you're wondering and it's probably eating you up right now. So ask. Go ahead."

Emma looked back at Killian, who was glaring daggers at Rumple. She wanted him to speak, say anything that would take the place of the thoughts in her head. She did not need these doubts, thoughts of him betraying her, thoughts of him turning back to a darkness that had ruled him for so long. Why was he there? He hated everything to do with Rumple.

"I'm more concerned about my father's whereabouts," Emma said, repositioning herself so that Killian wasn't in her eye line. "He's in trouble and you have the power to help me. But you're too concerned with playing a stupid game."

Rumple laughed, but it was hardly the impish laugh of a man in control. "If you can penetrate the Snow Queen's lair, I believe your father should be unharmed and inside," he told her. "That's as much as I can offer, but know that whatever I tell you is only valid for now. I can't tell you what her future actions might be on this."

"Emma, wait!" Belle called out as she saw the blonde women both throw open the door. Emma turned and faced her. "You will need more than that."

Shaking her head, she watched the three of them. "I don't need anything else from any of you," Emma said firmly. "We'll handle this on our own."

Belle stood still, her eyes searching in the dark for something she had seen before on her journey. Flashlight in hand, she held it out straight and let the beam fall gracefully on each corner. "Before I left Hook asked me to tell you something," she said, looking sidelong at Emma. "He actually wanted to come with me."

"I'm glad you stopped him," Emma said bitterly. "And I'd prefer that we not discuss whatever that was until we finish this. I can't…I won't deal with this now."

Belle walked toward a clump of trees and touched each with her hand. "I didn't even know he was there until I went to get Rumple," she said. "I walked to the back as you requested and they were arguing."

Emma wasn't sure that meant something good, but she let Belle continue, her footsteps falling in line as Belle chose a direction.

"I can only guess, but Hook's not the kind of guy to just come hang out with a mortal enemy," Belle said. "Hook must want something from Rumple."

Emma pursed her lips, willing herself to not have a break down in the woods. Her father was missing and now was not the time to have a crisis in her relationship. "I can't imagine," Emma said. "Besides. It doesn't matter. Rumple's not going to give him anything for free."

"No, he won't," Belle said. She grabbed Emma's arm as she braced her feet to go down the slight hill toward where she remembered seeing the cave. "And if he's negotiating or dealing with Rumple, he could be in real trouble."

"Of his own making," Emma said. "If you don't want to make a deal with Rumple, then don't. It's that simple. He can't make you." She cringed as she said it. Her words not displaying just how she felt.

Belle looked uncomfortable, but she smiled anyway. "I don't know what to tell you," she said. "Let's just find the cave."

***AAA***

Mary Margaret flung open the door on only the second tap from Killian's hook, her face falling as she saw him standing on the other side. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and sighed. "Sorry," she said. "I was expecting Emma and David. But that's stupid. They wouldn't knock. They'd just come in."

The loft was quiet as the baby slept and Henry had been sent to Regina's for the evening. The dark haired woman walked backwards to the kitchen table, her knees bending as she felt the chair behind her. "Come in, Killian," she said. "Emma isn't here though." In front of her was a cup of water, her notepad and a few crumpled tissues. He could see the list of possible places her husband could be written out in her perfect penmanship.

"She hasn't returned with the prince yet?" he asked dumbly. "I wasn't sure…"

Mary Margaret shook her head and watched the pirate eye her suspiciously. His expression was hardened by his experience and a fear she wasn't sure she could place on him before. "Emma's good though, almost like David," she whispered the last part. "I know she'll find him. She won't stop."

"Aye," Killian said with a curt nod. "She will find him and bring him home to you."

Mary Margaret's smile turned motherly and in a flash she was in the kitchen and pulling out a plate of cookies she had baked just a day before. She stuck the plate out to him, smiling at his confusion over her gesture. "I don't keep rum in the house," she said. "So maybe you have a sweet tooth instead."

Reaching for one, he nodded. "I'm sure they are wonderful," he said before biting off a bit. "And they are that."

"You didn't go with Emma," Mary Margaret said, realizing for the first time that he was sitting there alone. "Why not?"

"She wouldn't have me," he said. "I…It's complicated."

"What did you do?" Mary Margaret asked. Her tone was not as accusatory as it could have been, using her teacher voice instead. The distress in his expression was evident, even in the low light of the loft. He looked on edge, as if anything else happened he might bolt from the room.

Placing the half eaten cookie on the napkin in front of him, he began to trace a pattern on the table with his finger. "She found me at Rumple's shop," he said with a rush. "I was in the back room and she didn't know I was there. Nobody but…"

She let the surprise of his words hit for just a second, but then shook it off as she stood and went back for a carton of milk and two glasses. When he looked to her questioningly, she shrugged. "I told you," she said. "I don't have any rum. And well, milk goes with cookies."

She passed him a glass and watched him gulp it down. "Not quite the same kick," he said. "But it will do."

"Why were you there?" she asked. There was an apologetic stance to him as he weighed his words.

"Long story," he answered, knowing that it would not satisfy her. "I guess it started with my pride. I wanted to a whole man for Emma. I didn't want this," he held up his hook before her, "reminder of what I became. I wanted…"

"You wanted your hand back," Mary Margaret finished for him. "You wanted it for your date with Emma." She said it so sweetly that he almost blushed. She had been the first to notice his hand, as Emma's reaction was more toward the flower than his appendage. But the princess was nothing if not observant.

He nodded, finishing off the last bit of milk in his glass. She poured him another.

"So you went to the only person who could give that to you," she concluded. "And I'm guessing there was a steep price for it."

"Aye," he responded. "I thought that I could beat him at his own game. I thought I could win."

Mary Margaret sat across from the man who had once injured her husband but saved his life too. He was the man who had left her locked in a cell with her daughter and two others. He was the man who had stolen the magic bean that was meant to save them and then come back with it. She was looking at the man her daughter loved. "I'm sure you know that Rumple would tell you that all magic has a price," she said. "And I'm sure you know now that the price is very steep."

He nodded, a bit confused that she wasn't yelling at him.

"So tell me about the price," she said.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he gave the white substance a chug and then bit down into his cookie again. If Emma ever talked to him again, she would probably laugh at the mental image of Captain Hook and Snow White sharing milk and cookies. "He wants me to do some work for him, things that he can't do alone."

Undeterred by his vagueness, she poured a bit more milk in his glass to top it off. "And these are things that you don't want to do," she surmised. "Things you think Emma wouldn't approve of you doing?"

The nod was almost imperceptible. "He has a cap…a hat…I don't know," Killian's hand flew to brush away the words, almost knocking over his glass. "It can suck people inside."

Mary Margaret's face showed unabashed alarm, her hands reached out and grabbed Killian's one hand. It shocked them both. "What is he planning to do with it?"

"I'm not certain that I fully understand," Killian answered, acutely aware that she was trying to calm him. He could hear the cars outside and the baby gurgling happily in his swing. Even the bells from a nearby church were sounding, but none of them were comforting to him. "There was an old man out near the edge of town. Rumple wanted to pay him a visit and had me go with him."

"He forced you?" she asked, concern etched on her face. "He's done some horrible things. I was hoping though that he had changed."

Killian looked away, seeing the loft's eclectic style that seemed perfect for the princess's Stoneybrooke persona. He could see Emma there, her face shining with pride as Henry told some funny story about school. Her laughter would sound out as her father attempted to exert some fatherly advice, reminding him that they were essentially the same age. Despite her protests that she was not capable of normalcy, he had seen her live that life. Now he was questioning if he would only continue to see it as a bystander. "He held no gun to my head," Killian said. "I'm reluctant to say that it was force. He is very persuasive though, and has little use for anyone who isn't an asset to him."

She looked puzzled for a moment. "He threatened you, didn't he?" she asked before correcting herself. "No, that would only have made you challenge him more. He threatened Emma."

"Aye," he said softly. "I realized that he has been lying about the dagger. He didn't give real one to his wife. I used that information to my advantage and it seems to have unleashed his ways."

"That makes sense," Mary Margaret whispered. "He's worked so hard to be the one in control. I can't see him giving that power and control away."

"No, he wouldn't," Killian agreed. "But I was a fool. I didn't use my information properly and it gave him opportunity. He claims to have switched the daggers back. So now I have no proof and he has a video that shows me in the home of that old man."

Neal fussed loudly, interrupting their discussion. Holding a hand up for him to wait, the young mother walked into the alcove to lift her son up. Nestling him in her arms, she walked back to the table to sit down. "So he's threatening to show that to Emma," she said.

"He has threatened that, but even more," Killian said, letting the words tumble out easily. "I don't fully understand the hat at all, but I know that it is use lies in absorbing the power of those who have magic. The Dark One could be using it to gain that power for himself, but I'm not sure about that. What worries me is that…"

"Emma," she said. "He could use it against Emma."

Killian nodded again. "I can't let him hurt her. I would die before I let that happen."

***AAA***

The whiteness of the inside of the Snow Queen's lair was blinding and the three ladies each flinched as the crossed its threshold. Belle pointed with disdain to the mirror and warned each of them to keep their distance. "Don't," she said one final time, passing it to the opposite wall.

Emma and Elsa each looked around the room, finding nothing of significance in its icy depths. They both wore stoic expressions as the three regrouped toward the center of the room. "I'm not seeing anything here that can help us," Emma said, folding her arms across her body. "It's just a room with a mirror."

"There must be more," Elsa said, brushing her bare hand over the ice on the wall. "She can't have placed all this here just for show."

Belle shook her head and looked to each of the women. "The mirror is the key," she said. "It has to be. It will be the catalyst for the spell."

"Then perhaps," Elsa suggested, "One of us should look into it."

"No!" Belle said.

Emma slid her hands up and down her arms, warming herself despite not filling the chill of the weather just yet. "I will do it," she said. "It tells you what your inner thoughts are?"

"Rumple said it lies and plays on your fears," Belle corrected.

"I'm not sure I trust him at the moment," Emma answered. "Look of the three of us I know my inner thoughts and fears both. I've faced worse just sitting in a dark room alone. No mirror could tell me anything new or unusual."

"You don't understand," Belle said, shuddering. "It's like it can see things that you never thought anyone could."

Emma looked unconvinced. "One of us needs to do it," she said doggedly. "I don't see why not me."

Elsa shifted her weight and peered over her shoulder at the ornate mirror. Her eyes seemed transfixed. "I could do it."

"No," said Emma. "It should be me. You are struggling with years of memory loss and being trapped in an urn. I'm not. She took a few months from me. And it's my father that she's holding captive."

Elsa gave her a side hug, leaning her head briefly against Emma's. "I'll be here with you," she said. "If it's too much, you just call out to me and I'll pull you away." She took a step toward Belle and smiled. "Belle and I are right here."

Emma nodded solemnly and pulled off her gloves. Walking quickly, she made her way to the mirror and stared back at the reflection of herself. Exhaling, she watched the image do the same. Emma smiled, but the reflection did not.

This is where I'm going to leave it off for today. Hope you're still reading and enjoying. What did you think of Snow being the one that Killian came clean with first? Please let me know what you're thinking and if you know where I'm going with this. Hugs and kisses for a great 2-hour episode Sunday.