Woo, another update!

Anyway, I'm worried that my writing for this story it becoming a little forced. If you disagree then that's great, but I'm thinking of making the updates for this story bi-weekly to give me a little more time to get it together and polish it off a little more.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think because I'm not sure with this chapter! :)

Not for the first time since she'd boarded the Jolly Rodger, Emma was jolted awake. Jolted was perhaps too delicate a word for the crash that had forced her out of the bed in the captain's quarters, leaving her sprawled and disorientated for a moment on the wooden floor, head swimming as the ship continued to rock far harsher than it had yet.

It took a while for Emma to get her barings, but once she did the dread settled in. The storm, the one Killian had spoken of not a day prior, it was upon them. Scrambling to her feet, Emma threw her tunic over the far too large black shirt Killian had insisted she wear, her own having been too torn and too bloodied in the pirate attack for even her fair hand to mend. Once her boots were buckled, her belt fastened, she made haste for the ladder out of the quartes, stumbling pitfully as she did so.

Above deck it was nothing short of chaos. Killian was stood at the helm, his hand gripping to the wheel with a white knuckled grip, barking orders at the men below him as they scattered across the deck like ants in the rain.

"Raise the mail sail!" He shouted over the crash of the waves, sea water pouring over the ship's edges and soaking the deck below them. Men were slipping across the wood in their haste to follow orders. "Look alive!" Hook called again, his jaw set and determined as he held the ship as steady as he could with his one good hand and his hook.

It was a storm alright, but Emma had been wrong she she'd assumed it was upon them. The clouds that had looked so beautiful the night before, bathed in the pinkish glow of the sunset had gathered thicker, rolling across the horizon so that sky and sea were inseparable. There was nothing but darkness, the clouds thick enough to block out the sun – or was it the moon? Emma had no idea how long she'd slept, it still having been evening when she'd descended to her quarters. Despite the thick clouds and the echoing grumble of thunder overhead, the rain had yet to fall, making visibility at least more manageable. At least it would have been had there been anything to see but the choppy sea, waves rolling high and harsh against the ship to see.

"Swan," Hook shouted when he spotted her, watching as she swayed, trying valiantly to keep her footing against the vicious rock of the ship. She didn't feel too ashamed when her steps faltered, men who had spent far more time aboard this ship than her were already falling over themselves and obstacles as barrels of water began to slip and roll across the deck. "Don't suppose you have that magic of yours handy, Love?" He asked, but Emma heard the joking in his voice. It would take a miracle for them to weather this storm, not her. "Hold on men!" He shouted, but looked to Emma too, his eyes serious and demanding no arguments. This was a captain in his element, and Emma knew better than to step in the way of that. "No worried, Love. I've out run many a storm," He grinned then, an almost feral looking expression that darkened his face in glee. He was enjoying this, Emma realised.

She wanted to smile back, or scold him for finding their circumstances at all amusing, but she found that she did neither, choosing instead to grasp a hold of one of the taut ropes attached to the rigging and holding herself firm. All she could hope was that Hook could, in fact, out run this storm.

That hope faded very fast as another crash sounded against the ship, the force of it would have sent Emma sprawling across the deck at Hook's feet had she not gripped on to the rope so hard it burnt her palms.

"What the hell was that?" Emma shouted over the harsh rumble of thunder and shouts of other crew members. Hook didn't answer, choosing instead to release the wheel – something Emma thought was likely to doom them all – before heading to the side of the ship, peering over to where the crash had struck. The waves contuned their onslaught and when Hook's head lifted once more it was drenched in the salty water, his dark hair dripping as he turned back to the crew.

"We're taking on water!" He called, reclaiming his station by the helm and gripping tighter than Emma thought possible, his arms struggling to hold the wheel steady, and in addition, the ship. She heard Hook curse aloud, his eyes trained ahead of them, a few of the crew following his line of sight. Emma was about ready to jump overboard with what she saw.

A wave, a very big wave, enormous in fact, towering over the ship was headed towards them. Emma's mouth fell open as she saw its advance, and they were sailing right into it. Another wave his from the left and Emma felt her grip faltering, her hand slipping from the rope with a none too gentle tug that left her arm aching, her fingers burning from the friction. Her eyes widened when she felt herself sliding across the soaked wooden deck, any other rope or railing already out of her reach. When this wave hit it was going to take her along with it and down into the depths. Before she could begin to let her life flash before her eyes, or the horrific thought of Henry left to the Queens will, she felt something encircle her waist and tug her harshly before she was stood at the helm.

"Hold on!" Hook called, his voice loud and clear in her ear. It was only then that she realised what had encircled her waist was his hooked arm, holding her firmly against him as he struggled with the wheel.

Emma didn't have time to question before the wave struck, knocking the air from her lungs as it drenched her, the entire ship seeming to disappear below the surface, at least from what she saw, which from the alcove of Hook's arms wasn't a lot. It was a shock for Emma when they emerged once more, her gasping for breath and the taste of salt in her mouth as she blinked the ocean painfully from her eyes. The crew was still standing, each of them having caught a hold of something sturdy before the onslaught of water, leaving them soaked to the skin but alive, and judging by the still tight grip at her waist, her side throbbing sharply at the contact and stinging from the seawater, Hook was still standing too.

"I thought you said you could outrun a storm!" Emma shouted, slipping out of his grip, but only a step as she grasped a hold of the helm alongside Hook, realising just how much exertion went into keeping the ship steady.

"We'll never out run it!" He called back, his Hook notched under a spur of the wheel as he tried valiantly to take the strain. "The storms upon us, if I try and turn it around the ship will be torn apart," Emma supposed that wasn't the more preferable option.

Rain was falling now, sheets of freezing water slapping against Emma's face, her hair plastered to her skin from where she'd not had the time to tie it back. She was amazed she could even see in front of her, let alone the lightening as it forked across the sky, striking at the ship's mast as the highest point it could find.

Hook was shouting orders above the crashing sounds, but Emma was deaf to it all, her grip on the helm slipping every second as the ship jolted. Another crash slammed from the left once more, and this time there was no one to catch Emma as her grip faltered.

She was vaguely aware of falling, of her feet slipping from beneath her as she began slipping through the air. And then her back impacted with the water, the sea as cold and unforgiving around as the sky was above them. The current was harsh beneath the waves, dragging her below the surface as she tried valiantly to reach for air. There was a moment of blind panic as Emma saw nothing but darkness around her, not knowing which way was up as he body was spun around in the water. Then there was a thud of something hard, something heavy colliding with her temple and everything fell into darkness.

"Swan!" Killian shouted across the chaos, having seen the moment her grip had failed in almost slow motion, but being too slow to do anything about it. She'd fallen overboard soundlessly, ready to be claimed by the ocean. But Hook wasn't quite ready to be rid of the feisty blonde yet. Calling for Mr. Gibs, to take the helm, he raced to the side of the ship, searching the ocean's surface for any sign to where Emma was.

Hook wasn't sure what had compelled him to do it, but his blood was thumping almost painfully through his veins, deafening to the sounds of the ship and crew around him as he was all but ready to climb up onto the ship's edge and dive into the perilous waters below. It was only the tug of Mr. Smee on his elbow that stopped him.

"Smee!" Hook bellowed, struggling against the portly man hold, surprised at just how much strength the red capped man held in his chubby frame. "She'll drown!"

"So will you, Captain," Smee argued as Hook shook himself free, only to see someone else stood at the ship edge, the crew surrounding him as he held tight to the rope beside him. "The ship needs you, Captain. Master Burser will get her out." Hook couldn't even argue before the boy he hadn't been able to recognise through the darkness dove overboard, a rope tied across his chest as the rest of the crew held the other end.

"Hang on," Hook shouted to his grew before crossing the already swimming deck, the water ankle deep under foot. "Smee, the rope!" The other man obliged, passing the end of the rope to Hook who held it tight in his hand.

"He has her!" One of the men shouted, followed by a chorus of 'Pull' from the crew, the rope in Killian's hand growing substantially in length. They'd need more leverage though if they were to pull the two grown adults back onto the deck. It only took a moment for Hook to fumble with the rope, passing it through the pulley he'd located in the brief flashed of lightening, all the lanterns having been extinguished in the rain or fallen overboard.

"I've got it! Back to your stations!" Hook bellowed, the crew sparing one glance to their captain before returning to managing the ship and keeping her afloat, some of them, at least. Hook tugged at the rope, feeling the weight of the two bodies at the end far less than the crew would have as the rope squeaked through the pulley. It was moments later that a hand appeared at the side of the ship.

Abandoning the pulley to the closest crew member, Hook crossed to the ship's edge, reaching out his arm for the lad below. Burser managed to hoist Emma up and Hook didn't hesitate to catch his arm under hers, lifting her around the shoulders up over the side of the ship while the crew helped Master Burser back aboard. Hook stumbled with the weight, but didn't let Emma drop harshly as he lowered her onto the deck, kneeling down beside her to soften the fall.

The water that had previously submerged the deck had drained, the rain lightening from the painful onslaught to a steadier patter as Hook studied Emma's pale, unmoving face. She looked, well, drowned. Her hair was a dripping, matted mess, her clothing sodden and weighted. Hook didn't miss the blood that was spreading from her temple from where the rigging caught in the lightening strike had undoubtedly struck her, passing through her hair like red ink on wet parchment.

"Swan," He breathed, hand slapping her cold face lightly as though it would force her awake. Pressing his head to her chest he strained his ears for any sound of a heartbeat, for the movement of a breath, for anything that would show she was alive. He heard nothing, be it from the deafening call of the storm around him of because of the thinkable, he wasn't sure. "Come on, Emma," He ground out, sitting back up and readying himself to try and revive her, the way they had taught him in the navy, compresses on the chest and then breaths to the mouth. Who would save her son if not her, who would the lad have in the world with his father gone? Emma was needed, Now wasn't her time to pass.

Readying his single hand over her chest, Hook braced for the pulses that would restated her heart. Thankfully, he was saved the effort as Emma's body jolted suddenly, her eyes flying wide as she coughed up the ocean from her lungs out and onto the deck beside her.

Killian released the breath he hadn't known he was holding in as Emma's body slumped against him, her head landing back to where he hadn't noticed it had been rested cradled in his lap, his snaking around her shoulder and tightening at the sight of her chest heaving in the cool ocean air. She was alive, her green eyes were open and staring into the sky as the rain began to slow even more.

"You had us scared there, Love," Hook said, his voice barely a whisper as he watched Emma blinking in the sky above them. By some miracle, the storm had passed, the clouds still rolling above them but the sky was visible between them. Killian was sure he could see the stars reflected in her wide eyes. "I thought we'd lost you."

"I thought you didn't care about anyone but yourself?" She mocked, wiping at her mouth with her bare hands, her gloves long gone before her fingertips brushed against her bloody temple with a wince. She'd sat up slightly, no longer gasping for breath as she leant back, one of her hands braced against the deck, the other pressed to the undoubtedly painful wound at her side from only a day prior. Hook wanted to joke back at her words, in fact he'd intended to, to make a jibe about her survival skills or being shark fodder, but he couldn't. He could still feel his heart beating in his chest, the pounding harshly against his ribcage from the moment she'd fallen over board. Whatever this was, it was new and not entirely unwelcome but far from ideal given their circumstance. Emma was here to save her son, nothing else, that was all that mattered, so the best course of action was to joke and ignore whatever it was that was happening.

"Maybe I just needed a reminder that I could," Not at all the course of action he'd intended, and it definitely didn't seem to be what Emma had been expecting, but Hook couldn't find it in himself to regret it. Emma had barrelled into his life and she'd had him from the get go, his memories of that night were hazy, but not hazy enough. He could remember the gleam in her eyes and the way her curls felt slipping though his fingertips. And then she was gone, drifting away like a ghost. He'd told himself that morning when he awoke that he'd find the thief who'd stolen from him, but the material possession had barely held a candle to way the damn bar wench he'd had kissed. Killian's head had told him to find the thief, but his heart had sent him to find that damn bar wench who'd kissed like an angel. She was the reminder that a man lay buried beneath the bravado and the piracy, a man with an aching heart and too much loss for his soul to bear. It should have abhorred him, but he found himself strangely at peace with it.

"We're off course," Emma said instead of a proper response, clearing her throat slightly as she struggled to her feet on the still soaking deck. Hook followed after her, his arm ready to brace her if she fell. She didn't, which was impressive after her feat, the gash on her ribs, the head wound and near drowning experience seeming not to effect her too harshly. There was a wobble to her stance, but Hook would never point that out.

"Excuse me, Lass?" Hook asked, eyebrow raised as he regarded Emma.

"I may have been reading your maps," Emma said off handed, but he could see the small smile of pride on her face as she looked to the now clear sky, the moon reflected in her eyes and turning them to silver. "If that's Ursa Minor," Emma said, her finger pointing to the stars, "then that's Polaris," her finger trailed to the brightest star in the constellation and Hook was hanging on her every word. "We're heading North, and we need to go West if we're to make it to Tortgua."

"Impressive, Love," Killian said, watching as Emma smiled into the sky. "But I'll think you'll find that star is the North Star," He said, moving her hand where it was still pointed to the sky enough that her body needed to turn ninety degrees. She didn't pull away from his touch and Hook counted that as a win. Perhaps she was allowing herself to trust him at last. Or perhaps her head wound was worst than anticipated. "Meaning we are travelling East. But yes, we are indeed off course."

"How long?" Emma breathed, slipping out from under Hook's arm to stand opposite the pirate captain instead. The loss of heat that was emitting form her body in an attempt to warm itself up did not go unnoticed by the captain, even through the layers of thick, soaking leather he wore.

"I give our voyage another two days."

"That's sooner than I thought," Emma said appraisingly.

"Well, I'm a hell of captain," Emma smirked at that for just a moment before she realised he was staring at her, and not with his suggestive eyes and raised eyebrow, he was just staring, like he'd found something precious he'd forgotten he'd lost. It was enough to make her turn away, eyes casting over the oceans for just a moment, the storm slowly turning into a distant memory.

"I'm going to get some rest," She said, gesturing over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Killian," And then she was gone, walking up the steps towards the helm before disappearing below the deck and into the captain's quarters. He watched her go, his name sounding in his mind as thought she'd prayed it. He didn't look away from her, instead memorising the length of her hair where it fell in still dripping curls down her back, how the shirt – his shirt - hung off of her frame even beneath her tunic, the sodden material weighted and still dripping. It as sight to remember, and he was sure it wouldn't be one he'd forget in a hurry.

"Regina, I did as you asked and I spoke to Henry. What more do you want?" Snow exclaimed in frustration from her seat at the large table in her castle's drawing room. Regina, who had barely been within the kingdom for a day, was already pacing.

"You were supposed to convince him I was worth a chance. Not send him on a heroic quest back to his mother." She was angry, Snow understood that, what she wasn't going to except, however, was the risk of Regina taking this child despite his wishes.

"You neglected to mention the boy had a mother who is no doubt worried sick," Snow challenged and the fire in Regina's eyes was visible from across the room. "I'm willing to bet that that poor woman is searching the forest for him right now. You cannot take a child from their mother, you just –" But she broke off, because Regina could, and she had. Snow had gone twenty-eight years not knowing if her daughter was even alive and even now, that was the only information that she had. Emma was alive somewhere, living in the forest and Regina, having been unable to track her for a decade, had no idea where she was. To have the hope that Emma was out there for definite was something Snow would never turn her nose up at, but it wasn't enough. She wanted her daughter, she wanted her family to be whole and her kingdom thriving.

She wanted her happy ending.

"I'll have you know I can do as I please," Regina snarled, her hands braced on the hips of her incredibly bedazzled dress, the firelight glinting off of the gems and making Regina look like she was covered in small, flaming coals.

"You can't make Henry go with you unwillingly. You need to show him that you are worth forgiving, prove to him that your heart is true." After speaking to the boy Snow had learnt one very valuable thing, his heart was true. He had trusted Snow within moments of knowing her and Snow had found herself wishing the poor boy hadn't wound up in such a dire situation. If Regina forced Henry to live with her then he would never love her, but if Henry was to choose his own path, Snow knew where he would go. Straight into he waiting arms of his mother. Regina would just need to find another prince, and that was the harsh truth of it.

"How? How do I prove that I am not the villain?"

"By helping him," Snow pressed, going so far as to move towards the Evil Queen, even extending a hand in friendship. It was denied by the harsh glare Snow received, but she had offered at least. "Find his mother and then at least you've shown you can change."

"And then what?" Regina scoffed harshly, her eyes narrowed at the once bandit queen. "I go back to exile in my kingdom and leave you to you happily ever after."

"I lost my happily ever after the day you took my daughter." Snow snapped, tied of Regina's constant thralls of jealously and the blame game she was so accustomed to playing. Anyone could see that Snow White was anything but happy, and more so they could tell that this story was far from its ending. "Until I get her back and this cure is broken then I have no happy ending." The fact that Regina smiled slightly at this did nothing to help her case as even Snow began second guessing her choice to help the woman who had spent years dedicated to destroying her life. "And until you start doing some good in this world, you won't get yours either."

That struck a nerve, the queen's jaw clenching distastefully as she eyed Snow white with badly veiled contempt. There was bad blood here, Snow knew, all she could hope was that they could let it lie, at least until Henry was returned home.

"Fine," Regina ground out, her voice questioning itself as she smiled sickeningly sweetly at Snow. A smile, it seemed, was more accustomed to being used in far more intimidating circumstances. "How do you suppose I find the boy's mother?" Regina seemed far from happy with the situation at hand, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place and Snow's words were hitting home. The Evil Queen wasn't sure what of the above bothered her more.

"Henry told me her name and where they lived, if we go to the village then surely she won't be far."

"And if she'd headed this way in search of her son?" Regina pressed and Snow knew the woman was grasping at straws, digging frantically for a way out of her sticky situation.

"Then we'll run into her somewhere, I'm sure." When Snow advanced on the queen once more, her hand outstretched awaiting the other's agreement, Regina looked far from pleased. "You just need to look,"

"Fine," The Queen sounded anything but fine, although she did accept Snow's outstretched hand, sealing their agreement thoroughly in a brief, uncomfortable shake of the hand. "What is the mother's name?"

"Emma," Snow said, her face smiling kindly at the Queen, knowing that she was willing to change, she simply needed some help when she stumbled along the road. "Emma Swan."

Regina paled and she knew simply by the gentle cock of Snow's head the other woman had noticed. Ten years she'd managed to go without even uttering that name. Ten years since she'd asked the magic mirror to show her the forest rat she sought and it had been ten years since the Queen had been sure she'd destroyed the young woman's hope for good. As it happened, fate was here to once again bite Regina in the arse.

"Well this changes everything."

And she wasn't wrong.

I may have googled about navigating by the stars, and even if I'm wrong, I thought it seemed convincing enough.

Now, we all knew that Hook fell fast for Emma and though this is a slow burn story, it was Emma's kiss that helped ihm realise his feelings. He even said that if he'd remembered the 'damn bar wench' he'd kissed that he'd have gone after her.

That's kinda what this story was based off of.

Anyway, please let me know if you think this story it started to seem stretched thin or forced. Anyone who follows my other stories know I have three multi-chapter CS storied with near weekly updates at the moment and so many one-shots in the works, so keeping up is getting to be a challenge!

Still, feel free to share your thoughts.