Chapter 10
Emma, of course, hadn't gotten any sleep; it was kind of hard to do so in a house where you'd just found the corpse of one of your closest friends.
The image of Archie's ruined face and body had haunted her all night, making closing her eyes the last thing she wanted to do. So, she'd spend all night in her parents' living room, sitting rigid on the couch and striving not to dissolve into tears.
It had been a long time since she'd last felt this helpless. The guilt of being the one to have caused all this was crushing her, and she couldn't fix it. She couldn't go after Killian-she couldn't do anything without her magic. And, as powerful as Regina was, the protection spell she'd cast hadn't worked, so apparently she wasn't powerful enough to challenge the Dark One and Pan.
Emma exhaled heavily, closing her eyes and clenching her fists. She hated this; she'd thought her days of feeling so weak were over. She'd thought that she could finally be happy, that once she'd gotten the darkness out of herself and Killian, that she might actually be able to find some peace.
She should have known better.
The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted her stewing, and she opened her eyes to see her parents coming to sit across from her with understandably grim expressions on their faces.
"We need another plan," Mary Margaret was the first to speak, a note of obviously forced calm in her voice. "The protection spell was a bust, so we need to find some other way of keeping more people from getting hurt."
"I don't see how," Emma replied flatly, trembling with the effort it took not to just outright say that there was no point. "If Regina's magic can't protect the town even temporarily, I don't know what other options we have."
"There has to be something," David piped up. "Like your mother said, we can't just sit around and wait for Hook or Pan to kill someone else. We have to keep fighting."
"I'm open to suggestions," Emma said, lifting her shoulders in a shrug.
David took a deep breath, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to come up with a solution. Since neither Gold nor Emma possessed their magic anymore, Regina was still probably their best bet for stopping Hook; but the defensive approach hadn't worked, so they needed to find some way for Regina to go on the offensive.
He sighed: he had an idea. But Emma and Mary Margaret weren't going to like it.
"I hate to say it, but maybe we should find a way to put an end to Hook before he can hurt anyone else," he reluctantly suggested. He knew it was a terrible thing to say, but he couldn't see any other options.
Both Emma and Mary Margaret turned to him with horror in their eyes. "You mean kill him?" Emma said, unable to believe what she was hearing.
"No, that's not how we do things," Mary Margaret protested fiercely, shaking her head. "We don't kill people. That's not who we are."
David held up his hands.
"I know, but what other choice do we have? Emma can't get her powers back, and, as long as Hook's still alive, we're all in jeopardy. I don't want to do this, either, but I will if it means that everyone we love stays alive."
Emma pressed her lips together, trying to stop them from trembling while she came to terms with what her father was saying.
"Even if we were to agree on that plan-and that's a big if-how do you propose to kill him?" Emma queried, forehead creasing. "Last time I checked, the Dark One dagger was the only thing that could do that, and he has it-and Pan."
David frowned. Emma did have a point there. But, true to his nature, he refused to admit defeat.
"We could go have another look at those Dark One chronicles, or ask Gold if there's any other way to stop a Dark One," he stated optimistically, getting back to his feet. "With any luck, we might even be able to find something that Pan won't be able to get in the way of."
Emma looked over at her mother, knowing that they were probably having the same thoughts: killing Hook was definitely not something that they wanted to do, but it was starting to look a lot like something they were going to have to do.
Inhaling deeply, she pushed herself to her feet as well. "Okay," she agreed resignedly, hands clenching at her sides. "Let's go."
She saw Mary Margaret's scandalized expression over her father's shoulder. "Emma, no," she started to protest, but her daughter cut her off.
"There's nothing else we can do, mom-not if we don't want Killian to kill every last one of us," Emma declared bluntly, walking off before the other woman had a chance to argue.
Mary Margaret shot her husband a disparaging glance.
"Why would you even suggest doing this? You know killing is the wrong thing to do," she admonished firmly, folding her arms across her chest.
David raised his palms in a gesture of surrender. "I know, and I don't want to do this, either, but we don't have any other ideas. Hook is going to keep coming after the people Emma loves, and I don't know how else we can stop him."
His wife heaved a sigh. She really didn't like this: killing went against everything she believed in and everything she was. She still remembered the toll it had taken on her the one time she'd broken her rules and killed Cora and she was pretty sure killing Hook would only make her-and her daughter-feel even worse.
On the other hand, though, she knew that just letting Hook go unpunished for killing Archie and Leroy wasn't an option, either. They had to do something, and if this was the only thing they could do…
"Fine," she reneged grudgingly, steeling herself. "But while Emma and I go and talk to Gold, you have to stay here with Neal. Make sure no more corpses end up in his nursery."
David's lips twitched ruefully.
"I'll do that," he promised, giving his wife's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Let me know what happens."
Mary Margaret inclined her head in acquiescence before turning on her heel and heading off after her daughter.
The "CLOSED" sign was still up on the front door when Emma and Mary Margaret arrived at the pawnshop-and, as if that weren't odd enough, when they tried to go inside anyway, they found the door locked.
"Gold!" Emma called, rapping on the window with her brows furrowed. "Open up, we need to talk to you!"
There was no answer for several minutes-though Emma continued her insistent knocking-and she was about to pull out her phone and call Gold to see where he was when the door finally opened.
"What do you want?" the shopkeeper demanded, his voice even more terse than usual as he opened the door only a crack and glared out at the two women.
Emma gave her mother a sideways look, and the older woman took the lead.
"The protection spell you had Regina cast didn't work," Mary Margaret told him bleakly. "Hook tortured and murdered Archie and left his mangled corpse in our house-in our son's nursery. We have to find another way to stop him and Pan and we need your help."
She started forward, clearly expecting to be let in at that, but Rumplestiltskin held the door in place, his expression remaining starkly unmoved.
"Unfortunately, dearie, I've decided I'm done helping you," the former Dark One declared coldly, still refusing to let the two women inside.
Emma's frown deepened.
"What do you mean, you've decided that you're done helping us?" she shot back, aghast. "You can't do that!"
"I think you'll find that I can, miss Swan," Rumplestiltskin said, gaze sharpening into daggers as he turned it on the former Saviour. "After all, helping all of you and acting the hero hasn't gotten me anything, except the loss of everything that ever mattered to me. First my son, then my magic, and now Belle,"
"What are you talking about? What happened to Belle?" Mary Margaret interrupted sharply, her expression morphing into one of puzzled, but genuine concern.
The shopkeeper grimaced, his whole body going rigid as the events of that morning once again replayed inside his head and made him feel even worse.
"Pan took her," he answered bitterly, the hand not on the doorknob curling into a fist at his side.
Mary Margaret's eyes widened in sympathy. "Oh my God, Gold, I'm so sorr-!"
"Save it," he cut her off frigidly, nostrils flaring. He turned his acid gaze back on Emma. "This is your fault: you turned Hook into a Dark One and enabled him to bring Pan back from the dead and come after the only person I had left. So now you're going to have to clean this mess up yourself, because I'm leaving Storybrooke-today."
And with that, he slammed the door in the two women's faces before either of them could utter another word, ending the opportunity for any further protestations.
As they heard the lock click back into place, Emma turned to her mother. "So what do we now?" she asked, shoulders hunching in defeat.
The older woman was saved from having to come up with a response by the distinct sound of Emma's phone ringing.
"Mom," Henry's voice crackled through the earpiece when the former Saviour raised the device to her ear, sounding uncharacteristically frightened. And, as if that weren't enough to make Emma worry, his next words more than did the trick. "Your house is on fire."
David paced back and forth in front of his son's crib, hand gripping the hilt of his sword like a vise. He didn't think that Hook would show up; but then, he hadn't thought that Hook would leave the body of one of his closest friends lying in their house, either, so.
He was, unfortunately, all too familiar with this feeling of danger and fear. He'd never voice it aloud because he knew his family would be counting on him to be the brave one, but he didn't know if they were going to be able to make it out of this. Pan was one of the most powerful enemies they'd ever faced, and now he was working with the Dark One, he probably wasn't going to be any easier to defeat than he was the first time.
And then, of course, there was Hook. When he'd first come to town, he'd been an enemy, but he'd been relatively easy to stop. Then again, he hadn't had magic then-and he hadn't been after Emma and everyone she loved.
He'd already killed Leroy and Archie and David didn't want his son to be the next on that list.
"It's really a shame that someone so young should have to be privy to so much death."
The sound of that familiar Irish brogue, now so cold and mocking, made the hairs on the back of David's neck stand on end; he whipped around instantly, brandishing his sword.
The new Dark One was there, leaning against the side of Neal Jr's cradle with one of his ice-blue eyes focused almost pityingly on the male infant lying in the crib, while the other watched its father for his reaction.
David thrust his sword forward, aiming the point at the other man's chest. "Get away from my son," he demanded harshly, unable to keep the slight quaver out of his voice.
Killian raised his hand and hook in mock surrender. "Don't worry, Dave," he drawled, lips curling into a small smirk. "I'm not here to hurt your son."
David's eyes narrowed. "Then what the hell are you doing here?" he questioned suspiciously, moving his swordpoint closer to Killian's chest.
Killian's smirk widened.
"I'm here to do what I should have done two years ago." He vanished in a cloud of black smoke and reappearing behind the prince, hot breath rushing past David's ear as he completed his statement. "Kill you."
David didn't even have a chance to react before Killian attacked, plunging his hook into the prince's back.
David's breath left him in a rush and he was driven to his knees, the sword falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. He'd felt pain before, of course; he'd even been stabbed before-but never like this. It wasn't just metal cutting into his flesh; there was dark magic at play, too.
"Wh-?" he choked, unable to get the full word out as his mouth suddenly filled with blood.
Killian dug the hook in even deeper, and David doubled over, crimson spilling out of his lips and drowning whatever he'd been about to say in waves of black agony.
"Nothing personal, mate," Killian hissed silkily, his scruff rasping against the other man's skin as he leaned over him. "But I told your daughter I'd take everything she cares about away from her, and, unfortunately, you're near the top of that list-something else to thank her for."
He let out a cruel snicker, finally yanking his hook out of David's back and shoving the prince forward, where he collapsed at Killian's feet.
His breathing turned into desperate rasps as his hand scrabbled on the floor, clearly searching for his sword. When Killian noticed that, he let out a mirthless chuckle.
"You still think you can fight?" the Dark One scoffed derisively, straightening up. He kicked the sword out of the prince's reach, then used his foot to also roll David onto his back. "You're finished, Dave."
He stabbed downward, this time thrusting his hook into David's chest, ripping out his heart and then crushing it without hesitation.
As David let out his last breath, a pair of lanky arms wrapped around Killian's waist.
"You've surprised me, Killian: I didn't think you'd have it in you to go this far," his partner's familiar silky British accent praised, lips brushing against Killian's ear,
Killian chuckled softly.
"Oh, I'm not done yet," he commented darkly, half-turning his head so he could see Peter's face as he continued. "The Saviour still has a few things she loves left, and I won't be finished until I've taken them all away from her."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the malicious gleam that came into the demon boy's gaze at his words.
"Well, then, what are we waiting for?"
i feel like there should be another scene but oh well