I own nothing except my delusions.

Two weeks had passed since they left Agrabagh. Killian sat at the helm, Curry standing beside him, overlooking the crew as the men spared with each other, Swan standing off to the side watching.

They observed Murphy and Lewis engaged each other, their swords glinting in the midday sun, the clang of metal ringing through the air. The crew whooped and hollered, cheering them on. Killian's eyes kept wandering to Swan, her gold hair fluttering in the light breeze. He couldn't help smile at seeing her laughing amongst the crew, her eyes alight with curiosity and excitement.

"The crew really had grown fond on the princess," Curry stated as McCullen shifted closer to Swan as Murphy and Lewis parried closer to them.

Killian couldn't deny she fit in with the band of misfits. Most of the men had easily accepted her. He already knew Curry, McCullen, and Murphy cared for her. He knew that they were her guards, but regardless, the men would protect her from harm. Many of the others had taken to her. Lewis and Byrne had began conversing to her, now regularly speaking with her when she was on deck.

"Aye," he responded simply. "They have."

Curry glanced at him. "You've grown fond of her."

Killian hesitated for a short moment before responding. "Aye."

Curry shifted his weight, slightly nervous. "Permission to speak freely, Captain?"

Killian nodded, finally looking at the bosun.

"You seem happier, Captain," Curry said quietly. "Ever since the princess came aboard, and you freed her, you've been happier. You haven't been like this since Milah. Hell, even in that tavern the first night in Agrabagh, those wenches were flocking to you, and you didn't even look at them. As soon as you were done with your trade, you went back to the ship. You're changing, Captain."

Killian didn't reply. He knew himself the truth of Curry's words. Swan had quickly become a constant in his life, one he wished to remain. He had left the tavern that first night, taking no interest in any of the loose women there. He had just wanted to get back to his ship, to be around Swan. He knew something in him had changed, shifted toward her. He still felt the strange draw to her when she was away from him, one that he found very difficult to ignore. He was still learning her, trying to unravel her mystery. He often wondered what happened to her to cause her to barricade herself behind her walls. He'd himself witnessed how hesitant she was to be around others and let them in, whether it be conscious or not. He wanted to know her. He turned his eyes back to her, seeing her laugh as the men sparred.

Curry nodded before he descended the steps, joining the circle of men.

Killian descended after him, moving by Swan.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked her.

She glanced over to him. "I am, actually. My father, Leo, and I used to spar together back home." She studied the men's movements. "Though we never fought with these techniques."

"You're used to the broad sword," he deduced. "The relies on power. The cutlass relies on agility."

Swan nodded, her eyes returning to Lewis and Murphy. Murphy disarmed Lewis, the blade sliding across the deck.

"What do you say to a lesson?" Killian asked her. "You know how to wield a knight's sword. Let's see how you handle a pirate's."

She looked at him, a smirk playing on her lips, challenge in her eyes. "If you think you can handle it."

Killian grinned, turning to look at McCullen. "McCullen, would you mind if the lady borrowed your sword?"

McCullen grinned at Swan, unsheathing his blade and passing it to her, which she easily gripped.

Killian stepped into the center of the circle as Murphy and Lewis joined the men, drawing his own sword. Swan followed him, her sword ready.

Killian lunged, a move Swan blocked. She in turn thrust forward, which Killian easily blocked, then disarmed her.

"You're relying too much on your strength," he told her. "You need to rely on your agility."

Swan nodded and moved back into her stance, readying for attack. She moved to strike him, and he blocked. Killian made to strike with his blade. When she blocked, he slid his sword along hers, the metal scraping, until the hilts touched.

"Study your opponent," he told her. "Learn how they move."

He drew away, moving so that Swan could study his movements. He parried with her, Swan quickly adapting to the motions. He moved to disarm her when she blocked his attack.

"Good," he remarked as he moved to the left.

Swan moved with him, matching his movements. She lunged forward, instantly putting him on the defensive. He grinned to himself. Swan was a natural.

He began to move faster, trying to see what she could handle. She kept up, only faltering a couple of times.

He noticed her skirts impede her movement on a couple of the motions.

"You know, Swan," he said quietly so that only she could hear, "it would probably be easier if you weren't wearing that dress."

Swan narrowed her green eyes at him, lunging forward for another blow. He smirked as he blocked her.

As they continued, Killian offered more help to her, but couldn't help grinning thinking that Swan could hold her own in a fight.

They circled each other, watching for an opening. Emma thrust forward, leaving Killian an opening, with which he disarmed her. Swan sighed, grinning at him.

"We will make a pirate of you yet," Killian said, his own grin stretched across his lips.

He returned his cutlass to the scabbard hanging from his hip. Swan retrieved McCullen's fallen sword, passing it back to him as she took Killian's offered arm.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this sweet?" a high, piercing voice rang out, giggling.

Killian's blood ran cold. He knew that voice. He quickly pulled Swan behind him, ready to protect her.

Killian quickly spyed the demon. On the yard of the mainmast, with an impish grin, reptilian eyes gleaming, sat Rumplestilskin.

Emma froze when she heard Rumplestilskin's voice.

Hook held her behind him as the crew studied the imp. Curry, McCullen, and Murphy shifted closer to her, ready for an attack.

Rumplestilskin's eyes zeroed in on Emma and Hook. "I'd heard you'd were behind this, Captain. Can't say I'm surprised."

He disappeared from the mast, reappearing before them, looking at Emma with his unsettling eyes. "I received a message from your parents, asking that I track you down. I didn't want to, but Belle convinced me."

His demonic grin grew as he flourished his hands. "But when I found out this ship was responsible, well, let's just say it was too good to pass up."

He flicked his wrist, causing the rigging to fall on the crew, leaving only Emma and Hook left standing. Emma gripped Hook's arm tightly, ready to pull him away, unable to bear the tought of him being hurt.

The imp grinned, taking delight in the destruction. Some of the men were unharmed, while others weren't so lucky. Some small pools of blood leached out onto the deck.

Hook kept his eyes on Rumplestilskin. His voice was deadly. "What do you want?"

"To find the missing princess, who was tragically kidnapped by pirates," Rumplestilskin said with malice. "And to finally kill the captain of said pirates."

Emma stood, frozen, as the Dark One threatened Hook. But as she watched them, her confusion grew. Hook, despite the multiple opportunities provided to him, did not attack Rumplestilskin. Despite his desire for revenge, Hook made no moves to attack the beast that took his hand, instead choosing to stay and protect her.

Rumplestilskin moved closer, causing Hook to pull Emma closer to him.

"I'm going to enjoy this," the imp said giggling. He flicked his wrist, causing Hook to fly into the mast, pieces of the rigging snaking their way over him, binding him to the mast. His cutlass lay forgotten on the deck

Hook looked to Emma, his eyes filled with horror. 'The bloody crocodile used magic to tie me to the mast... He took her heart.' She knew he was remembering the day Milah died, that the events were too similar. He began fighting against his bindings.

With a wicked glint in his eyes, the imp moved closer, plunging his clawed hand into Hook's chest. Hook grunted in pain as Rumplestilskin pulled out his heart.

Emma watched them in horror. She looked at Hook's heart, held in the Dark One's hand, faintly noticing that for a pirate who lived for three-hundred years, his heart didn't contain the darkness to be expected. As Rumplestilskin began to squeeze his heart, Emma finally found her voice. "Stop!"

Rumplestilskin turned his reptilian eyes to her. "Now why would I do that, dearie?"

Emma's voice shook. "You're looking for me. Just leave Hook out of this."

The imp walked over to her, Hook's heart raised in his hand. "Because of him, I can't look for my child, because he-" he squoze the heart, causing Hook to cry out in pain, a sound that cut through Emma like a knife, "decided to kidnap you. If it weren't for him," he squoze the heart again, another cry of pain, another cut, "Belle and I would be finding our own child."

Emma wanted to scream. She thought, quickly, of a way for them to get out of the situation. A face came to her mind, someone who had looked so familiar to her, but was sure she'd never met before. Reve.

He was the spitting image of Belle. Reve himself said he was trying to find his family. Emma looked at Rumplestilskin, praying he would take her deal.

"You lost your son," Emma said, trying to stay calm.

Rumplestilskin's eyes narrowed. "Yes."

"Reve?" Emma asked, sure of his answer.

"How do you know him?" he asked suspiciously.

"I met him a little over a month ago," Emma answered him.

"What do you want?" the imp asked, sensing she wanted to make a deal.

Emma took a breath. "We are to be left alone. You don't go after Hook. You are not to harm him or kill him. The crew are not to be harmed."

Rumplestilskin studied her. Fear spiked through Emma before he gave an demonic grin and spoke. "Deal."

Emma released a breath. He extended his arm, offering Hook's heart to her. She quickly took it from him, feeling the pulse of it in her hand, cradling it carefully to her, before telling him where she had seen Reve. "At Port Rackham in the kingdom of King Eric and Queen Ariel, I saw your son."

"Thank you," the imp giggled. He leaned in close to her, his voice low so only she could hear. Emma fought the urge to flinch away. "Tell me, dearie. That pirate has spent the last three-hundred years searching for a way to kill me because I killed his love. If he's spent all his years dedicated to avenging her, what makes you think he could ever love you?"

Emma remained still, trying not to let his words effect her. She looked away from him.

Rumplestilskin grinned at her one last time, giggling, and vanished in a puff of red smoke.

As soon as he disappeared, the ropes binding Hook to the mast fell loose, causing Hook to stumble forward, landing on his knees.

Emma rushed to him, kneeling before him to push his heart back into his chest. She rested her right hand over his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath her palm. Her left hand moved to rest on his face, carefully stroking his cheek. She noticed blood staining his black shirt. She quickly glanced to the mast and rigging that held him, seeing some of the sharp metal that cut into his skin. She looked back at his face.

"Hook," she called out gently. "Hook. He's gone. Are you okay?"

Hook nodded weakly, reaching up to grip her arm, his voice worried. "Swan, did he harm you?"

Emma shook her head. "No. He won't harm you anymore. I made a deal with him."

"I heard that," he told her with a weak grin. "Lucky you found his son that day."

"Yeah," she responded.

Hook stood up, then offered her assistance up. Sensing he needed it, she looped her arm through his, which caused him to relax some. He quickly grabbed his fallen sword, sliding it back into its sheath. He then turned to the men, falling into the Captain persona.

He studied the men, noticing roughly half of the men were injured, but there were no casualties.

"Smee!" he called. Smee rushed before him.

"Aye, Captain?" he asked.

Hook's voice left no room for argument. "Go alert Smith immediately. Tell him half of the crew is injured, and they will be brought down."

"Aye, sir," Smee responded before running off to warn the ship's surgeon.

Emma looked over, seeing the men helping each other up. She noticed Curry and McCullen, aside from some minor cuts, were unharmed, but Murphy was sitting, applying pressure to his ankle.

"Keep close, just in case," Hook told Emma, worried Rumplestilskin might come back. He moved over to help Murphy up, wincing as his own cuts smarted.

Emma noticed Lewis nearby, a large gash on his leg. She moved over to him, offering her hand. "Lewis."

Lewis shook his head. "I'm fine, Princess. You don't need to worry about me."

"Please, Lewis," she asked. "Let me help you."

Lewis studied her offered hand for a moment before taking it, carefully getting up. Emma pulled his arm around her shoulders, supporting his weight as his tall form towered over her. She caught Hook's eye, who was in a similar position with Murphy. She nodded to him, which he returned to her, understanding in his blue eyes. Carefully, they maneuvered down the hatch and made their way to the small hospital, some of the men already layed out on the small cots. Emma carefully helped Lewis sit on an empty cot, noticing the tired look of his face.

"Thank you, Princess," he sighed, exhausted.

Emma nodded to him. "You're welcome."

She looked up, seeing Hook talking to Smith, the doctor's pale green eyes worried, telling him what had happened. Emma watched them, taking in the injured men around her. A strong feeling of guilt bubbled up in her.

After being assured his men would be taken care of, Hook moved to Emma.

"Come on, Swan," he told her gently, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Smith's got this taken care of. There's nothing more we can do here."

Emma nodded, a lump stuck in her throat. Hook led her back up to the deck, where Curry and some of the other men were already back up, working to repair the rigging. The setting sun gave everything a soft orange glow, a harsh contrast to the destruction that had befell them earlier.

Curry looked up at them, rushing over to meet them. "Captain, we're working on repairing the ship now. We'll have it cleaned before morning."

Hook nodded tiredly. "I'm leaving it in your hands Curry. Just make sure the men eat something."

"Aye, Captain," Curry responded, nodding to him. He cast Emma a worried glance, trying to make sure she was okay. Emma nodded to him, which made him relax.

They began walking back to Hook's cabin, only to be stopped by McCullen when they reached the door with their dinners. He left the food with them before retreating back to help the rest of the crew.

Hook placed his food on the table before moving to unfasten his vest to remove the constricting leather from his wounds, tossing it onto the bed. He then moved to the lantern, lighting it as the cabin continued to darken.

Emma placed her food beside his on the table, watching his movements.

Hook's voice was soft when he spoke to her. "Swan, you don't need to feel guilty. None of what happened was your fault."

She looked at him, unable to guess how he figured her out. "How-?"

He smiled. "Open book, love."

He gingerly sat down. Emma examined him, noticing him grimacing when he irritated the cuts.

"Why didn't you have Smith look at you?" she asked him.

Hook sighed. "The others need his help more. Besides, it's just a couple of scraps."

"If it were just a couple of scrapes, you wouldn't be so careful not hurt yourself," Emma responded.

He smirked. "Swan, if I didn't know better, I'd think you actually cared."

Emma sighed. "If you won't go to Smith, will you let me take a look at you?"

Hook stopped the bravado, looking at her. "You don't need to worry about me, love."

"Please," she asked him. "I'd feel better knowing you weren't going to get an infection."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded his head. "As you wish."

Emma moved to grab the bandages he kept on one of the shelves as he settled on the bunk, beginning to remove his shirt. She grabbed the bandages, some cloth, water, and a bottle of rum, turning to go back to him.

When she turned, Hook had just finished shrugging off his shirt. Emma felt the breath leave her lungs, understanding why McCullen had said what he did. Hook's back was littered with long, jagged scars, long since healed, shown in harsh relief in the soft yellow light of the lantern. Emma couldn't even begin to count them, or guess why Hook would have received so many lashings. She found that she hated that he had been hurt like that. Tearing her eyes away, Emma swallowed heavily, moving before he could look behind him to see her looking at his back.

Emma perched herself in front of him on the bed, carefully placing the supplies by them. She felt breathless as he turned to look at him, his chest bare before her. She saw the scars that littered his skin, obvious evidence of his life of piracy. A smattering of dark hair ran across his chest, visible even when he wore his shirt. He kept his brace on, along with his necklace, the skull and dagger pendants reflecting the soft light. Emma shook herself, moving to study the cuts. He had one across his right bicep, and another longer, deeper cut along the left side of his ribs.

Hook watched her quietly as she examined him. He kept his eyes trained on her, taking in every expression she made. Emma looked up at him, her eyes confused.

"The rigging did this?" she asked, amazed.

"Yeah," he answered. "Rope can do a lot of damage, and that metal and wood can do more."

Emma nodded, moving to soak one of the cloths in the water. Gently, she began to wipe away the blood on his arm. Hook flinched when she touched the cut.

"Sorry," she said softly.

"It's alright," he responded just as softly.

Emma put the cloth down, grabbing the other and pouring some rum onto it. She looked up, meeting his eyes. "This is gonna sting," she warned.

He winched as the alcohol went into the cut, but kept watching her. When she was satisfied with cleaning the cut, Emma reached for some of the bandages.

Emma kept her eyes down as she wrapped the bandage around the cut. She was curious, and a bit nervous if she were honest with herself. Her voice was quiet. "Out on the deck, when Rumplestilskin came, you could have attacked him and tried to kill him. You had so many chances to get your revenge. Why didn't you?"

Hook was quiet as she finished bandaging his arm. It wasn't until she was finished with his arm and looked up at him that he answered.

His voice was soft. "Maybe I've found something to live for."

Emma didn't know how to respond to him. She met his eyes, green meeting blue, and was surprised at what she saw in them. She could see a certain tenderness in them, along with the haunted look that quite never left him.

She broke contact, grabbing the water soaked cloth, dipping it back in the water, and moving to clean the gash across his ribs.

She swallowed, looking up at him again when she was done cleaning the wound with the alcohol. "Thank you though, Hook. For protecting me."

Hook held her gaze. His voice was still soft. "Killian."

Killian Jones, Emma though. She liked the sound of it. Wanting him to know her own name, her voice was just as soft. "Emma."

Hook- Killian nodded gently. Emma gave him a small smile before she started to wrap the bandages around his ribs. They stayed quiet as Emma finished and tied off the bandages.

"Thank you," Killian said as Emma drew away, gathering the waste. He took the supplies from her, setting it aside. He looked back at her. "You should eat."

"So should you," she responded, not harshly.

He nodded, moving to grab a fresh shirt as Emma moved to the table. He sat across from her as they began eating their supper, the stew having cooled.

"I'm sorry he hurt you," Emma told him. Killian knew who she was talking about.

He shook his head. "I'm fine, love. That wasn't the worst he'd done to me."

Emma looked down at her food.

"Emma," he said softly. She looked up. "I told you I'm a survivor, remember?"

"He was about to kill you," Emma said. "He was about to crush your heart."

"But I survived," he reminded her.

She gave him a weak grin. They quietly finished their food, and Killian walked her to her cabin.

He turned, holding her gaze. "Will you be okay?"

Emma gave him a small smirk. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? I'm not the one who was tied to the mast and had my heart ripped out."

"Regardless," he responded.

"I'll be fine," Emma told him.

Tentatively, Killian reached up, gently stroking his thumb across her face. She minutely leaned into his touch, warmth spreading though her from where his skin touched hers. He carefully drew away.

Emma looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "Goodnight, Killian."

He nodded. "Goodnight, Emma."

She entered her cabin, closing the door behind her. She stretched across her bed, exhausted from the day.

Her parents had actually asked Rumplestilskin for help. The man she met at the port she was supposed to leave at was his son. The imp had been about to kill Killian, who had been hurt. She remembered her own pain and horror as she witnessed everything, terrified that Killian would die. And finally, they had revealed their names to one another.

Emma knew that something had shifted. Somehow, she'd come to care for the captain. She felt her own pain when he was injured, and had wanted to protect him. She read his face when Rumplestilskin had tied him to the mast, knowing he was afraid history was to repeat itself. She wanted him safe, thankful she had gotten Rumplestilskin to agree to the deal that he would not be harmed.

Holding his heart in her hands had been one of the scariest moments of Emma's life. She remembered holding onto it like it was the most precious thing to her. She'd seen Regina's heart, seen how dark it was. And yet a pirate who had lived over three-hundred years had a heart filled with less darkness.

Thinking it over, Emma knew that things had changed the second she had made the decision to stay with the pirates. That was when she had changed, in choosing to stay with him. Because she wasn't afraid to let him in, it terrified her that she was going to get hurt again. She thought over Rumplestilskin's words. 'Tell me, dearie. That pirate has spent the last three-hundred years searching for a way to kill me because I killed his love. If he's spent all his years dedicated to avenging her, what makes you think he could ever love you?' She knew it was a risk. But she knew she was in too deep, that she cared for him too much.

Emma fell asleep, finally able to admit to herself that she'd come to care for Killian.

Killian walked back into his cabin, his body aching from the day. Quickly disposing of the waste from Emma taking care of his injuries, he sunk into the mattress.

He lied awake, thinking about Emma. He'd been terrified what the Crocodile was going to do to her when he was bound to the mast. In his mind, Milah's death had played over and over in his head, but this time it was Emma who had died. He shook the images from his head.

He remembered the sheer relief he'd felt when the imp had left, seeing that Emma was unharmed. He wasn't too surprised to see when she helped bring Lewis to Smith, knowing how she'd bonded with the crew. He smiled at the thought.

He'd been amazed at the concern she'd shown over his injuries, and the care in which she treated them. He hadn't had anyone care really about what happened to him for centuries, since Milah.

They'd finally learned each other's names, something Killian took great joy in. Emma. He finally had revealed himself to her. She saw his scars.

He fell asleep, remembering the warmth he'd felt when he touched her face. Their skin had touched before, but this time was by far the most intimate. And yet as he touched her, she did not flinch away from him, instead actually leaning into his touch. He didn't know what had possessed him to reach out and touch her, but he didn't regret it.

He'd known it as she bandaged his arm. Killian had fallen in love with Emma. He'd finally found something to live for.

Author's note: Now before everyone starts yelling at me, this fic has actually been in production for a couple months now, and the planning for it has gone back months further, before season six had premiered. As of right now, I'm currently working on writing chapter 39. This means there will be some changes from the cannon, some minor, some major. For example, Reve (which is actually French for dream, so a little hint on who he was) was originally Rose, but I changed her to a boy when Gideon was revealed. All of my major plot points are going to remain the same, because honestly I'm too attached to this idea. Have a happy Thanksgiving, and thanks for reading.

Review?

Teaser: Emma raised her brow. "Do I need to be worried?"

Killian scanned the tavern, finding it safe. "Just a precaution, love."