It turned out that tracking down a known felon who made a living by avoiding unfortunate entanglements was nothing like Emma had seen on television.

She and Killian had spent the better part of the last week drinking cold coffee and sitting. There was variety in the places they sat – in front of the laptop at the house waiting for different traces to run, outside a myriad of hotels in the car waiting to catch a glimpse of whoever they were tailing that day, in assorted coffee shops and restaurants to catch video or audio surveillance, and even a couple of days spent sitting on benches in the National Mall photographing potential Lost Boys. It was a much larger operation than Emma had believed at first, and the sheer audacity of some of their marks was astounding.

But it was still just – sitting. Watching. Waiting. The occasional meeting with contacts. Check-ins with Liam. More waiting.

Killian seemed to take it all in stride, but Emma needed to do something.

That night, at least, they were strolling down a path in Anacostia State Park, banking on a vague tip one of Killian's contacts had passed on that Felix was going to be in the area, brokering an arms deal with one of Robert Gold's associates. Illicit dealings weren't likely to take place at high noon, so they were meandering one of the trails in the park at an hour just late enough that Emma would have felt uncomfortable if Killian wasn't at her side. His quiet presence reassured her and the arm around her shoulders – for their cover, he'd said seriously before pulling her close to him protectively – settled her nerves. The heat of his body and the weight of his arm were foreign comforts and Emma was caught between wanting to melt into the support and needing to shrug it off.

The last week had been confusing, to say the least.

True to his word, Killian had been the perfect gentleman, making sure there was coffee brewing in the morning before she woke up and letting her leaf through the newspaper first. There was only one full bathroom in the townhome, but it was always spotless. He explained everything he was doing patiently, making sure she understood what the day's plans entailed. He told her time and again that they'd get Michael back.

Little things to someone else, maybe, but not anything she'd had experience with since she moved out of Mary Margaret's apartment.

Of course, all the innuendos that tagged along with his chivalry were enough to have her brow furled into a permanent scowl. Those she could do without.

Killian was a study in mixed signals, but Emma knew what it was like to show one version of yourself to the world while keeping the real "you" tightly locked away. Killian's armor seemed to be wrapped up in deflection and swagger, smooth to the point of being suave – so that no one noticed they were being misdirected.

Emma's approach was more… prickly.

Not that Killian had seemed to notice.

Emma was torn from her thoughts when Killian stopped moving abruptly and his fingers tightened painfully on her shoulder. She turned to ask him what he thought he was doing when the pallor of his skin choked the words in her throat. Her shoulders tensed immediately, and suddenly she was painfully aware of the cool metal weapon in the holster on her hip.

Killian's gaze was locked on a pair of men far enough in the distance that she couldn't make out details. He didn't react in the slightest when Emma stepped out of his one-armed embrace. Killian's arm dropped, unimpeded, to his side with a 'thump'. But even that didn't shake him from his stupor.

A cold shiver coursed down Emma's spine at the uncharacteristic fear in his eyes. She was the one out of her depth, here. She was the one who was supposed to be afraid. Seeing that emotion reflected back at her made Emma want to run far and fast.

The only thing keeping her there was the fact that she was almost positive that Killian wouldn't have enough wits about him to follow her back to the safehouse. Emma couldn't examine her unwillingness to leave him behind too deeply – not right now.

"Jones? Killian, what's wrong? Hey," Emma soothed as she grasped his shoulder and shook it. "Talk to me."

Slowly, as if waking up from a dream, Killian tore his eyes away from whatever had captivated him so fully about that meeting. Fear turned into cold fury and for the first time since she met him, Emma was afraid of that darkness Liam had alluded to the last morning in Boston.

Killian turned his head and finally met her concerned gaze. He spoke matter-of-factly.

"Apologies, lass. But you need to stay here."

Killian took off at a sprint without another word.

The unexpected movement left Emma floundering for a moment, long enough for Killian to get several strides ahead of her. His long legs were quickly eating up the distance to his target and Emma struggled to catch up. She thought she might actually be gaining on him when she was suddenly propelled backwards hard enough to lose her balance.

Emma hit the ground hard. All of her air rushed out of her lungs and she couldn't inhale again for what seemed like hours. Gasping like a fish on land, she had a moment to notice the arm retracting from where it had stunned her before the pain hit. Her chest ached where it felt as though someone had swung an entire tree limb into her diaphragm.

"Really?" she wheezed out a retort as her lungs struggled to fill before the instinct for sarcasm could be outweighed by the fear that staring up at the wrong end of a gun brought.

Her gaze trailed up the arm until she was met with a pair of young eyes, the boy's gaze just as steely as her own glare.

"Stay where you are," the young man – no, she thought, no, he's only a boy – instructed. His high-pitched voice contained no trace of uncertainty, just a resolute authority that someone his age shouldn't have command of yet. Especially not while training a weapon on a woman at his mercy. Blond bangs fell into his eyes, and his lanky figure made her think of Slightly from the Peter Pan stories.

Angry and misguided teenagers - those Emma could handle. She had carved out a niche in her agency as the woman who could tame the hardest cases. But the level of conviction she saw in this boy's eyes proved he wasn't someone who could be talked out of his path with platitudes. Tough love was risky, and the weapon pointed at her gave her enough reason not to attempt that angle.

Emma really had no idea how to handle this, and she helped lost youths find their own version of success every day.

She raised her hands away from where they had instinctively crossed her chest against the pain a moment before, holding them up non-threateningly to pacify him. Unwilling to be lying on her back on the ground, helpless, Emma sat up hesitantly. She didn't take her eyes off the boy's finger that was lying along the side of the barrel of the gun. When the boy didn't object, Emma pressed her advantage - turning to the side and getting her knees under her. Slightly's finger twitched, but didn't move to wrap around the trigger from where it lay along the barrel. Ever so slowly she continued, masking her movement as she turned further away – her eyes never leaving his determined glare.

The boy's eyes never left hers. It was exactly what she was counting on.

Before he could react to her swift movement, Emma ripped her own gun free from the hip holster Liam had gifted her, thumbed off the safety and aimed at the boy's chest. His eyes widened fractionally, and Emma saw his finger finally move to lay across the trigger.

Sweat broke out on her forehead and trickled down her temple, but it dripped to her collar unnoticed. Part of Emma was convinced that this was some bizarre nightmare – caught in a standoff like she was in some Western movie that any number of her foster fathers had watched when she was being bounced around the system. The rest of her, however, was painfully aware of the fact that Killian was nowhere to be found while she and one of the Lost Boys were aiming weapons at each other in the middle of a state park where anyone could walk by. Emma wasn't sure what was supposed to happen next. She didn't want to shoot the boy – she didn't want to have that on her shoulders right along with Michael's current plight.

Slightly smirked, taunting her with his weapon, training it first on her face and then moving it down to aim between her breasts, then further down to her stomach. "Where do you think Jones will mind me putting a bullet in you the most, do you think?"

His teeth glinted in the moonlight as he grinned and Emma snarled. With his taunt, Slightly stopped being the mysterious boy she had no idea how to interact with, and became a familiar problem. Bullies she could handle. They were the same the world over.

She sighted down the barrel of her own gun, grinning arrogantly. It was all in what you let them see. "Never mind that, where do you think your boss will dump your body when you miss, do you think?"

Her confidence – or the thought of what the Golds would do to him – unnerved him for just a moment, and Emma took advantage of the way the gun faltered in his grip. She took off to her left, into the patch of trees that would afford her some cover in case the boy fired off a few rounds. With her heart in her throat, Emma dodged under branches and over logs, avoiding running in a straight line as she barreled through the wooded area. Thankfully, no bullets exploded in the trees near her, but there were definitely hurried footsteps that kept her own feet moving at breakneck pace. She had no idea where she was going, no idea where safety was.

No idea how to get to Killian.

When did you start equating the idea of safety with another person? The question pushed subconsciously to the forefront of her thoughts despite the danger she was in, pulling her attention momentarily away from her panicked flight even as she pressed further onwards.

That line of thought wasn't something she had time to examine at the moment, and even if she had – she wouldn't have pursued it anyway.

It seemed like she had been sprinting for miles by the time she found the tree line. Ready to burst out of the woods and hope she ran into someone – anyone – who could help, Emma came to a crashing halt when she heard sounds of a violent scuffle just ahead of her. Her own harsh breathing seemed to echo around her, and she fought to calm her racing heart. Not wanting to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak, Emma ignored her instinct to continue her flight and instead crept forward to get an idea of what she was walking into. She still listened intently behind her for signs that Slightly was approaching.

Emma watched from where she crouched behind a tree as Killian rocked back from a punch to the side of his head, hitting the ground with an audible 'oof' and rolling instantly to his side before he scrambled to get his feet under him. The young man who had taunted him in the basement of her apartment – Emma thought Jones had called him Felix – pressed his advantage, launching himself at Jones and tackling him back into the dirt.

Killian rolled with it, sending his attacker sprawling as he used the momentum to gain his feet once more. Emma could see his chest heaving with exertion. Ignoring it, he settled into a stance and warily eyed the other man as he stumbled to his own position. The two combatants glared at each other before locking in their pugilistic dance once more. They traded blows, rolling with the punches and the occasional kick until Killian took charge, driving his shoulder hard into the young man's midsection, taking them both back down into the dirt. They grappled there for a moment, Killian landing a few shots to unprotected kidneys before he was flipped onto his back. He struggled to free himself, one hand landing punches along Felix's side while the other scrabbled at the hand around his throat.

From where she was hiding, Emma could hear the strained wheezing as Killian fought to free himself. His head was wildly whipping back and forth and he bucked under the smaller body, trying to get leverage against his opponent.

Emma could see the maniacal grin on Felix's face.

She almost stepped out into the path, caught up in the need to help Killian.

"You think you can beat us and then what? You think you can protect her, Lieutenant?" A new, accented, voice spoke in an almost bored manner from somewhere to her left and Emma whipped around the tree trunk to find out who else was in the clearing. A well-dressed man with dark hair and a full, black beard leaned nonchalantly against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest and one boot kicked back against the trunk.

Emma spun back around, relieved to see Killian tear Felix's hand away from his throat. She settled back into the shadows.

"Lieutenant commander. You missed the promotion ceremony." Killian bit out as he rolled with his assailant again, trying to lock the young man in a choke hold.

The older man continued like he'd never heard him. "We're just going to take her from you, son. You know that. Just like I took that boy from you."

There was a growl from Killian before the man laughed. "You never had a chance, Jones. You'll never have a chance. Not against us."

Killian's voice held the slightest wobble, and it hurt Emma to hear the uncertainty. "I beat you once, Teach, I will do it again."

Felix took advantage, locking his legs around Killian's torso and maneuvering himself on top once more.

Teach laughed heartily, his head thrown back without a care. "You had no idea what was going on right under your nose, Lieutenant – how can you possibly believe you'll ever be even one step ahead of us?" Emma cocked her head at the 'lef-tenant' pronunciation, but was more concerned by the silence that followed.

Killian didn't seem to have an answer for him.

Unwilling to let this all play out while she simply watched, Emma finally stood and stepped out of the shadows, leveling her weapon on the man who'd spoken. "Because you never saw me coming."

She hoped that she was far enough away to hide the tremors rippling down her arm.

Teach seemed to look right through her, unconcerned with the barrel of her gun aimed at his chest. He turned away from her when Slightly burst out of the trees a good hundred yards up the path from where the standoff was playing out.

He sidled up to Teach, trying to catch his breath enough to speak. "She's lost in the woods, sir. She won't catch up."

Teach leveled a baleful look at the boy before nodding his head at Emma.

Slightly started, blinking stupidly at her before drawing his gun and aiming at her. "Oh."

"You had one job, James, and you've let me down. We'll discuss this later." James – Emma was still going to refer to him as Slightly – gulped before he adjusted his grip and steadied his weapon once more.

Emma cleared her throat, finally drawing Teach's attention enough so that he finally looked at her. She spoke with far more conviction than she felt.

"Here's how this is going to go. Killian's going to let your man go, and you're going to call him off. You're going to head down the path that way," she ignored Killian's indignant spluttering, "and we're going to go that way."

Teach continued to glare at her for a long moment before he came to a decision.

"Felix," he called out without turning to pair locked together. "Let the Lieutenant up. We've made our point tonight."

Emma heard Killian let out a string of curses as Felix slammed him against the ground once more before standing, brushing the dirt off his hands, and strutting over to Teach. The younger man's nose was bloody, the skin around his eye was already purpling, and when his lips peeled back in a smug grin, she could see they were blood-stained as well.

Side-eying Killian as he stomped grumpily over to her, Emma noticed the scuffed knuckles and the way he held his right hand stiffly at his side. On closer inspection, there was a trail of blood running past his temple and dripping off his jaw onto his collar. One eye was already starting to swell shut, and his lip was split. Those things concerned her a bit, but the gleam in his good eye was just as noticeable, and the fact that it gave him a pleased air settled her.

They may not have gained anything from tonight, but they were both going to walk away relatively unscathed.

She could yell at him for leaving her behind in the first place once they were out of earshot.

Killian was bristling with anger as he watched the men turn their backs and saunter away, blending into the dark of the moonless night. It was only when they were out of sight that he let his shoulders slump, the proud line of his back bending a little as he finally relaxed. He stepped away to rustle through the detritus until his weapon was unburied. The ambient sounds of the evening slowly crept around them and Emma mirrored Killian, holstering her weapon now that the danger had passed.

He had taken two steps towards her when her own anger and fear crashed through her walls. Killian didn't have a chance to react when Emma drew her fist back and punched him in the jaw.

Again.

He reeled back, cupping the throbbing area of his face and adopting a hurt pout. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Apologies, lass, but you need to stay here?" Emma's poor imitation of his accent almost brought a smile to Killian's face, but he seemed to think better of it and attempted to look chagrined instead.

It didn't placate her.

"You took off without an explanation. Left me so you could wrestle in the dirt like a teenager. What did he do, steal your lunch money?" Emma took a threatening step forward.

He shook his head and held out his hand in a conciliatory manner. "It wasn't him I was after, love. Felix would be a nice catch, but Teach…I never expected to see him again."

Emma put that aside for the moment. That was probably a conversation best had behind closed doors. "You left me."

"I told you to stay put." Killian pointed out.

Emma shook with anger, and something else she ignored completely - hurt. He'd abandoned her, right when she'd started to think… She bit her lip before repeating, "You left me, Killian. There was a kid with a gun. He could have… you'd never have known. And then I manage to get away from him only to find you fighting with another of your Lost Boys. What if Teach had stepped in? What if I hadn't found you? What if they hadn't listened to me? What if…"

"You have my apologies, lass, but it all worked out," he cut off her tirade with a tired smirk. "I don't mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the team."

Even after they got back to the safe house, Killian was still riding the adrenaline high that grappling with Felix had brought. He had been blindsided when he'd caught sight of Teach, and had let his vision tunnel dangerously. His brother would knock seven bells out of him for letting Felix catch him off guard.

And for leaving Emma behind in the first place.

He had convinced Liam to let her come along because it would be safest for her – and what did he do at first opportunity? She'd been in danger and it had been his fault, completely this time. He'd put her right in the line of fire.

And she was right, he'd never have known. That thought frightened him more than he was comfortable with. He never would have imagined that she'd have crawled under his skin so quickly.

But it didn't change the fact that she was a civilian and he'd left her unprotected because of a ghost from his past. Killian berated himself for the lapse in judgment. It wouldn't happen again.

He couldn't let it happen again.

Like he had imagined, though, Emma had acquitted herself well – without his help. She deserved credit for taking charge of the situation and getting them both out of there. He wasn't a fool – Teach had just been biding his time, he could have stepped in whenever he wanted and thrown a wrench in Killian's plans. If Emma hadn't barreled into the situation, it could have ended far differently.

He couldn't deny that the brawl with Felix had felt good, though. He had been just as frustrated as Emma at the lack of progress, even if his training had prepared him better for it. To be able to actually do something other than observe was freeing. A few cuts and bruises were a small price to pay for the night's work.

Tearing himself from his thoughts, Killian watched as Emma tugged the medical kit from under the bathroom sink. When they got back to the house, she had dragged him immediately to the small bathroom and pointed sharply to the side of the tub until he'd sat down. Now she glared at him where he perched patiently before he could even begin to protest.

"You're going to sit there and let me clean you up, and you're not going to say a word about it. Understand?" So, she was still angry.

"As you wish." The ghost of a smile graced her features and Killian was unsure as to the reason for it. He had little time to contemplate it, however, when she swabbed at the gash in his hairline with alcohol. Killian made no outward sign that the sting of antiseptic had affected him when she held the wipe there, even if he wanted to pull his head back away from the pain.

He busied himself with studying her instead.

There were leaves in her hair, and the hint of a pink blush spreading across her cheeks. Her green eyes sparkled as she focused on the first aid, never once meeting his gaze. Her actions were crisp and efficient – she clearly had experience with this.

Focused as he was on her, he missed when she asked him a question. It was only the absence of pressure on the wound and the cool breeze from her blowing across the gash that drew his attention back to their surroundings. She was staring at him with one eyebrow raised, and he couldn't help mirroring her appearance. "Sorry, love, what was that?"

Emma rolled her eyes at him and swiped deliberately at the gash on his forehead again. The hiss of pain that escaped his lips startled him – he could count the number of people who had seen him flinch on one hand… and have fingers left over.

Killian wouldn't let himself examine that too closely.

Emma busied herself digging through the small duffel bag, rifling through medical supplies until she pulled out a packet of Steri-Strips. As she cut the package so that the strips were a more manageable size, she asked again, "What happened with you tonight?"

Killian shook his head, avoiding her gaze and scratching behind his ear. The tone of his voice was truly apologetic when he began to try and explain. "I'm sorry, Swan. It was bad form to leave you behind like that. I've no intention of doing it again. I just… I never expected to see him again. When he appeared, I'm afraid I must have lost my head."

It took her a few moments to respond, and Killian was content to watch as her tongue poked out the side of her mouth as testimony to the level of concentration closing the laceration in his hairline took. She was perched just in front of him, moving to kneel in between his spread knees to better reach his forehead. Her eyes glinted in the harsh light of the bathroom, and the brightness reflecting off her skin did nothing to detract from her natural glow. She really was stunning, and if this were any other situation then he'd pull out all the stops to woo her.

Lord knew Liam would have approved of that far more than he did their current situation. But Killian had the Golds to take down and she was completely focused on finding Michael. It didn't matter what he wanted. Not now.

Maybe not ever.

"Who is he? Teach?" Emma whispered, thumbing Vaseline over his split lip to keep it from bleeding. He grimaced at the taste as his tongue darted out automatically in response. They both flinched when he accidentally brushed her thumb with the tip of it, pulling back simultaneously as if burned.

"Edward Teach. My CO – commanding officer, lass – when I was still in Her Majesty's Navy. I thought I could trust him. I thought he would help…" he trailed off, determined not to let the memories overwhelm him. "I never would have imagined he was dirty. If I had figured it out sooner..."

Killian's voice petered out, his memories rattling against the box that he kept padlocked in the corner of his heart. He had fought long and hard to mend the pieces of his heart that had shattered when he finally stumbled into that sweltering tent, the sights and smells enough to turn his stomach even sitting in a bathroom in the States - half a world away.

When he thought Teach was in the brig somewhere, he could remember a mischievous smile and shining brown eyes. He didn't have to remember...

Biting off that train of thought before it could fully take hold, Killian closed his eyes and firmly commanded the memories to stay! where they were supposed to.

Knowing that the man responsible for breaking Killian so thoroughly was roaming free brought that nauseated feeling tumbling to the surface once more.

"Tell me about him?" Emma's hand on his knee settled his stomach a bit. Her request was tentative, but he owed her at least that much.

It was like her question finally broke the lock on that box Killian had locked John's memory in – the small boy's face filling his vision and bowling over any defense he had against the recollection.

Killian stood up abruptly, almost knocking Emma back on her heels as the memories wrestled their way to the surface. She stood up after him, moving back and allowing him the room to stalk out of the cramped bathroom. He wasn't entirely aware of his movements, busy battling the demons in his head, but he knew that as he passed Emma, her hand ended up enveloped in his. Killian wasn't sure who initiated the contact, but it settled him just enough.

He tugged her along behind him as he moved to the darkened living room.

Killian's jaw twitched as he paced the length of the room. He was unaware of Emma's movements until she eventually sat on the couch, watching him silently. He could feel her eyes boring into his back, but he was powerless against the onslaught. Resigned to telling her the story, Killian rested his hands on the mantelshelf above the fireplace, gripping the wood until his knuckles turned white. He had no idea when Emma had started the fire he was now entranced by.

So many things had slipped past him…