Hello, everyone! I'm here with another chapter! Thank you to all who read the last one. I truly appreciate it! It makes me so happy that there are people out there reading the story and enjoying it. Now before I get into acknowledgments, I would like to point something out. She hasn't appeared yet, but she will either later in this story or in the one directly after this one. I have recast Celeste (that would be Isabel's mother). Instead of Rachel Weisz, I have chosen Natalie Dormer to be her. If you've been reading this since I started posting it, then I have already made the changes in the prologue. If you are reading this after March something or other, then you won't know any different. You probably won't even read this.

Okay. Onto the lovely acknowledgments: animecrazygirl1, mirakiayah, and BronzeProphecy.


Storybrooke - Present

Isabel had grown quite used to the strange looks that were thrown her way around town. Once everyone figured out who her husband was, they all gave her the same look. They didn't know how to take it. Most were suspicious of her. If she and Captain Hook were connected like that, then there was a chance she was part of what was going on around town. As she walked into the hospital, many of those looks were shot at her. She bypassed the nurse's station, but it was only a few seconds later when a nurse stopped her from going any further.

"Mrs. Jones?" the nurse asked, positively shaking when Isabel turned to her. "Your husband isn't here any longer. He was discharged yesterday evening."

"Pardon?" Isabel asked.

"Snow and David. They had him discharged from the hospital to help them," the nurse informed her.

Isabel crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. A man who needed medical attention still was released from the hospital against doctor's orders because the princess and the prince demanded it?"

"Y-yes," the nurse answered.

"I see," Isabel relaxed a little. "I'm glad someone called me to let me know."

"We tried to, but we couldn't reach you," the nurse told her.

"That's quite alright. It wasn't your job to do so in the first place," Isabel smiled. "Have a good day."

With that, Isabel turned and left the hospital. Sure she was a little rude to someone who was only doing their job, but it aggravated her to think she wasn't even considered when it came to what they did about Killian. Of course, it did make sense. They needed him to find Cora, and Isabel probably would not have allowed them to take him anywhere. Still, the truth was out. She would have liked to have been included at least a little. They probably weren't getting anywhere with Killian, and she could probably persuade him into cooperating a little more. Maybe. That was certainly debatable. She knew it could have been that they just didn't see the two of them as married anymore. Things with her and Killian were nowhere near fixed. Isabel had a lot to make up for, a lot to continuously apologize for. Killian probably wouldn't forgive her for another hundred years. It never occurred to her that they both may die before then. All she knew was that they were probably not going to be together ever again. She needed to be okay with that, especially since she was sure Peter never would be.

Isabel left the hospital; anger threatening to boil over. She was angry that they had left her out, but she understood why they had him discharged so hastily. They were trying to find Cora, which meant they were the reason the giant got loose. As much as she wanted to be angry with them, she knew they were protecting the town. They were protecting everyone, and that included her family. They were trying to fight the bigger threat so she had no right. She should have been grateful instead of acting like a child throwing a tantrum. Isabel decided to head to the Jolly Roger, to see if Killian were there. Maybe he wasn't doing something idiotic and was resting like he needed to. Sure he knew how to work through worse injuries than cracked ribs and a few bruises. Sure he was resilient, but maybe, just maybe, he was taking the time to regroup like he needed to. Like she needed him to. So she headed for the docks to find him. Walking through the town, she saw David and Mary Margaret walking towards her. Isabel took a deep breath as they approached her seemingly unaware that, just underneath the surface, she wanted to give them both a stern talking to.

Mary Margaret's eyes widened as she saw Isabel standing in front of them. "Isabel…"

"Snow. Charming." Her voice was curt as she looked between the two of them. "Where's my husband?"

David looked down at his wife before Mary Margaret answered her. "He should be at his ship."

"He should be at the hospital," she told them.

"So you've been," David sighed.

"I have," she nodded.

"We were going to call you, but we needed to get him to his ship as quickly as we could," Mary Margaret explained. "As you know, Cora being in town is a time sensitive issue that needs to be eradicated."

"I understand, but as his wife, I would have liked to have been informed. If not immediately, then before I made a trip to the hospital," she said. "I would like to know what's to become of my husband in this town. If he's being thrown in jail, I'd like to know. If he's been murdered, I would like to know. If he sneezes and offends somebody, I would like to know, especially before the rest of the town knows."

"We're very sorry," David quietly told her.

"Yes. Please understand that we weren't shutting you out for any reason. We needed to search her things," Mary Margaret added.

"What happened after you went to the ship?" Isabel asked.

"The giant was set free, and he disappeared somewhere," David told her. "So maybe he is back at his ship. We were kind of busy after Anton was released."

Isabel nodded. "You two have a good day. I'm going to go check on him."


Their first stop was the library. Regina believed the crocodile was foolish enough to hide any or all information on the whereabouts of his dagger there. After all, he had put Belle there, and that had to count for something. He had it closed for twenty-eight years. There had to be a reason for that. It was likely he hid something there.

"Shouldn't we be pillaging his shop or ransacking his home?" Killian asked, still unconvinced.

"That would be the obvious choice, yes," Cora nodded. "But Gold wouldn't risk crossing the town line and losing his memories without entrusting the dagger's location to someone."

"Belle," he concluded.

"My guess," Regina started, "is she hid it in one of her beloved books." Her fingers ran over the spines of the books. She looked over the books carefully.

Cora smiled over at her daughter; a smile Killian didn't buy. "Impressive, Regina."

"Thank you, mother." Her need for approval was almost sickening to Killian, but he guessed he understood.

"I'll be impressed when I'm holding the dagger in my hand," Killian piped in.

Regina continued searching the books, but when she reached the spot she suspected the book should be, it wasn't there. Her mouth gaped open. "No. It should be here."

"Well, it's not, is it?" Killian sneered. "May we go now?"

"Hold on," Cora told him. She walked over to Regina, reaching between the two books. Pulling her hand back, she revealed a folded sheet of paper. "What's this?" She unfolded the paper, eyebrows furrowing as she looked down.

Killian leaned in and looked at the sheet of paper. "Oh, yes. Crude. To the untrained eye, a child's scribbles, but to a pirate…" he smiled. "It's a map. Gold may not have hidden the dagger here, but I believe he's left us the next best thing – its location."

"Can you read it?" Cora asked.

"Well, lucky for you ladies, I'm quite adept at finding buried treasure," he smirked.

It only took Killian a minute or two to figure out the map, though he set it up to send them on a trek through the woods; one that would end up fruitless since the scribbles on the sheet of paper were actually just that. It should keep them occupied long enough for him to go after Rumplestiltskin. Maybe then he probably could be free of Cora. Whatever her endgame was, she really didn't need him. She probably was going to find a way to do away with him so that she could get all the glory. No matter. He would be far from Storybrooke and the evil witch, and as she pointed out with the crocodile, her magic would be useless outside of the town. Should she come after him, well, he could handle her the same way he would handle Rumplestiltskin.

"I give you the location of the dagger," he announced a few minutes later.

"Well done, Hook," Cora praised him. "We'll take it from here." She grabbed the map off the table in front of them and motioned for Regina to follow her.

He should have known they were going to try and double cross him, but it was not matter. The map they had led them nowhere. Killian didn't care about the dagger so why put the effort forth to finding it. He wanted to kill the crocodile with his bare hand and hook. When it came to the dagger, it only mattered if they were back in the enchanted forest or if he was going to face Rumplestiltskin in town. That wasn't happening so Killian regarded the dagger as a failsafe. Knowing Regina and Cora, they would still find it. He'd steal it from them and that would be the end of that. Still, Killian needed to play the part. He needed to be angry and try to stop them. "No. You promised me!"

He lunged for the two women, only to be magically thrown back into the bookshelves behind him. Pretending to be unconscious, he allowed the women to leave the library while he formulated his plan to get his hook back. Then he would leave for this New York place. It was supposedly where Rumplestiltskin, Emma, and her son Henry went. They went in search for Baelfire. As that name entered his mind, a pang of guilt hit him. His one chance to have a son, and he ruined it because he could not be honest with the boy. He wanted to honor Milah's memory, yet he ended up casting the boy away with the knowledge that it was only a matter of time before the child joined the lost boys.

Giving the mother and daughter time to start their search, Killian finally picked himself up and dusted off his clothes. With Belle in the hospital, the place could use a good sweeping, but that wasn't for him to do. Instead, he needed to find Isabel. She had the right to know there was a chance that he may not return to Storybrooke. His ship could take him anywhere with the right coercion. If his revenge sated him enough, he wasn't going to put himself through the misery of watching Isabel and Peter be a family with someone else. It was hard enough to just think about, and it made him want to crawl away on his ship, spending the rest of his days drinking and trying to figure out what he did wrong. After all, he still believed Isabel left because of him. Just not in the way she claimed. She left because he did first. She was pregnant with their first child, and he had to leave because of his quest to find her necklace. He already had Isabel. He didn't need to prove anything to her. Everyone told him that but he was too stubborn to see it back then. She had always been his, and he dropped the ball. He left her alone. She left him. But, nonetheless, he needed to tell her that he was leaving. He needed to tell her why he was leaving. Killian wasn't going to give her some speech about how gut-wrenching it was to know that no matter what she would be with Terence. He wasn't a safe bet like Terence. Even if they were to return to Neverland or the enchanted forest, he wouldn't give up his life as a pirate. Not now. It was too ingrained in him. Three hundred plus years of being a rogue, he wouldn't know what to do with a normal life. He needed the sea as much as he needed oxygen. Terence was a better choice, the better option. Maybe she hadn't completely chosen yet. Killian was going to make that for her.

Standing on her doorstep, he felt like a fool. She probably wouldn't even care that he was gone. Isabel had a happy life with Peter and Terence. They seemed to have everything together. Peter was healthy and happy. She was loved by someone Killian knew loved her deeply. Things were stable. His hand twitched while he waited for her to answer the door. Almost turning around and leaving, he stopped when he heard the door open. There she stood before him beautiful but someone else's. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and her clothes were a little slouchy but they still looked good on her. Looking down for a second, he smiled. She was barefoot, and he knew her unwillingness to wear shoes hadn't changed. She gave him a questioning look.

"I'm leaving," he told her quietly.

"O...okay," she stammered; eyebrows furrowing. "Why?"

"I'm going to finish what I came here to do. The crocodile is where I can finally get to him, and I'm not going to let the opportunity slip away from me," he explained.

"When will you be back?" she asked.

He bit his lip for a moment before looking up at her. "I'm not sure if I will be, darling."

Frowning, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. "What do you mean you aren't sure?"

"Exactly what it sounds like, Isabel. I don't know if I am coming back to Storybrooke. I have a bit of pixie dust, and I can go back," he sighed.

There were tears forming in her eyes, and the last remaining bit of who he used to be wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and tell her everything would be fine. But it wouldn't be. The harsh reality of it was that, even though he'd left for only a month, she did fake her death and take his son away from him. She was right there in Neverland, never breathing a word that she was alive. For centuries, he was pitted against his son. And she allowed it to happen. What little bit of an explanation she felt she was owed, she didn't deserve at all.

"So that's just it? You're going to go forget everything? Just like that?" she asked, voice wavering as she spoke.

Another sigh escaped him. "This is my burden, Isabel. Should I fail, I don't want this coming back on you. I need to separate myself from you." He stepped forward, hand raising to cup her cheek, and kissed her softly. "I am happy you're alive, but there are things I need to tend to, things that happened while you were dead that I need to fix."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he didn't allow it. He stepped back from, leaving quickly. He didn't want to see the look on her face. It would have been the same one he saw when he left all those years ago. Sadness. Heartache. He pushed it all to the back of his mind and let his malice take over once more. There was one last matter of business before he set off. His hook. He hurried to the sheriff's station, knowing it was only a matter of time before the prince sauntered in. It was still early in the morning, and as Regina explained to him, people had jobs. They needed to be up to perform those jobs. If Charming was filling in for his daughter, he would certainly be there soon. Killian had to wait, and that's exactly what he did. There was a dark corner that he could hide in. It wasn't easily seen from the front door, and if he played it right, he could most likely catch the prince off guard. The door opened, and he waited for the prince to walk in. A dark smile tugged at his lips when he did. Charming shrugged off his coat, hanging it up. As he did so, something fell to the floor. It clinked and caught Charming's attention. Killian took his chance. A crowbar lay on a table. He grabbed it, rushing out of the shadows. With a swift swing, he knocked Charming unconscious. He dropped the crowbar, bending to take the keys from Charming.

"Apologies, mate," he looked around, "but I think you have something of mine."

He located a desk with a lock on one of the drawers. That had to be where they were hiding his hook. Unlocking it, he opened the drawer. There it was, half covered by a black piece of cloth. Killian reached in, took the hook out, and set it on the desk. He unscrewed the fake hand, throwing it on the desk as well. Finally, he returned his hook where it belonged. Killian left the office quickly ready to get the hell out of Storybrooke and his vengeance on its way.


She had been out of sorts since Killian left. As quickly as he arrived in town, he was gone again. Her heart started to ache, knowing that soon she wouldn't know what had become of him. When she had left the first time, that was the worst part of it. She liked to think he moved on with his life, that he missed her terribly but continued on. He had sort of done that she supposed, but who he was in Neverland showed her that he struggled with carrying on. He had lost her. He had lost Peter. He had lost Milah. Isabel was thankful he showed up in Neverland because all of her lingering questions were answered with his arrival. It was the same when he showed up in Storybrooke, but now, she wasn't going to know anything. If he never returned to Storybrooke, there was a chance she would never see him again. Isabel couldn't take that.

She sat in the living room, staring at a spot on the floor. She didn't know what to do. Tell Snow and David of Killian's plans, she guessed, but she couldn't bring herself to even move yet. Her body refused to do anything her brain told it to. Her heart felt like it may quit at any moment. She wondered if it was how Killian felt when he realized she was dead. Her heart ached. Her lungs felt like they'd been completely deflated. Isabel couldn't cry; wouldn't actually. Killian wasn't dead. He was just leaving, and that was something he chose to do. Just as he chose to say goodbye. When she left him, she didn't really feel like she had much of a choice in anything that was happening. Not to mention, there was a chance he would come back. It wasn't like she could really cry over his going away if she felt like he would come back. Without magic, he couldn't go back to the enchanted forest, and that made her feel at least a little better about the situation. There would be only one place he would have to go back to. He'd have to limp back to Storybrooke eventually. Yet, what bugged her in the place of sorrow was what his going to New York meant. He'd need his hook. That meant he would be heading to the sheriff's office, and that meant David might be in the line of fire when that happened.

Taking her phone from her pocket, she dialed Mary Margaret's number. After a few rings, Snow answered. "It's Isabel. Killian's going after Mr. Gold."

"And that means..." Snow trailed off.

"He's going after his hook," Isabel confirmed.

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Captain Hook doesn't fight unless he has his hook. In this world, it's the only advantage he'd have over Mr. Gold," Isabel nodded.

"Meet me there in a few minutes?" Snow asked.

"Already heading out," she answered as she grabbed her coat.

She darted out the door, heading in the direction of the police station. Peter was at school so she didn't have to worry about anyone watching him. Hurrying down the street, she hoped David was far luckier than some who had crossed Killian's path in the past. Not many survived annoying Killian. In Neverland, he'd plunge a hook into anyone who pissed him off. She knew from experience, and the scar on her back burned from the memory. Her left shoulder bore a scar from one of their first encounters with the new Killian. Peter annoyed him to the point that the pirate took a swing at the child. Isabel threw herself in front of it, and the tip of his hook nicked her tiny form. It tore her wing, and it bit into her shoulder. Had she let the force take her down, she would have died. He would have killed her. Peter probably would have been killed too. She hoped David hadn't suffered the fate they almost had.

She got there a few minutes before Mary Margaret. The two women entered the building, neither of them breathing a word. Both of them held their breath as they searched for David. Dread filled Isabel as they walked in and didn't see him immediately. She didn't want to panic Snow unless she had to. The two of them rounded the corner and found David lying on the floor. Snow rushed over to him, dropping her bag to the ground. Kneeling down next to her husband, Snow shook him. He groaned as she helped him up. "What happened?"

"Hook," he groaned again. "He ambushed me."

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"I'm fine." David stood uneasily. "It's not me he wants. It's Gold and his hook. Yeah. I'm going to enjoy throwing his ass in jail."

"He's not here," Isabel spoke up.

David looked over at her. "He's already left, hasn't he?"

She nodded. "If he's gotten his hook, I can bet we'll see the tail end of the ship retreating over the horizon right now."

"His ship can't be that fast," he shook his head.

"And you know nothing about his ship then," she shrugged.

"Hook isn't the problem, David," Snow cut in. "Well he is, but listen, okay?"

"Tell that to my head." He pressed his hand to his forehead. The slight tint of red colored his fingers.

"It's Regina," she told him. "She's been lying to us. She's been working with Cora to find Gold's dagger."

David looked up at her. "The dagger controls him. If she can get it, she can force Gold and all his power to do her bidding," he put his hands on his hips, wincing slightly as what Isabel guessed was residual pain in his head.

"Or…become the dark one herself," Isabel added.

"And neither one of those options sounds good," he grimaced. "Lucky for us. We can call the man himself. He's with Emma."

"Tried. Sent a message," Snow told him.

"Well we can't just wait," David sighed.

Snow nodded. "We have to. We have to buy time until they call us back or return."

"How?" he asked.

"Regina," Isabel butt in.

Snow's eyes widened and she nodded in agreement. "She doesn't trust her mother. Never has. If we can put some doubt in her about Cora's motives, it might slow them down."

"And you think she'll just trust us?" David asked.

"She doesn't need to. She just has to listen," Snow smiled. "And I happen to know how to get her to do that."

David nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "What about hook?" He and his wife looked over at Isabel.

"There's nothing we can do," Isabel shrugged. "He's determined, and I can tell you one thing about him that has never changed over the years. Once he sets his mind on something, he's never going to give up. I couldn't tell you how many times he's reminded me of that. All we can do is either wait for news of Gold dying or wait for him to limp back because he's been stopped yet again."


Isabel stared down at her plate. The rest of the evening had been a blur to her, and she barely remembered even making dinner for Peter and herself. Clearly she had if there was food on her plate, which she shuffled around absentmindedly. Peter didn't even seem to notice that his mother hadn't eaten a thing. He continued eating as if nothing were wrong. She hadn't told him about Killian's departure yet. He'd had a big day at school; a story he'd shared with Isabel on their walk home from the school. The lost boys were all back together, all getting along really well. They'd even accepted Peter back as their leader. Maybe it was a little conceited, but it made Peter ecstatic. Isabel didn't want to ruin that with the news that his father was going on a mission that may result in his death. Peter didn't need to worry. He would have worried. She stopped pushing her good around. Nothing was going to change what was happening, and the only thing she could do was wait. Isabel needed to be patient. The call was going to come. The news of his success or failure was going to happen. It was only a matter of time.

"What are we doing tonight?" Peter asked.

"What would you like to do?" she asked smiling over at her son.

He thought for a moment; scrunching his face up. Then, in a flash, Peter grinned. "What about flashlight tag?"

"That sounds...amazing," she nodded. Back in Neverland, they played something like flashlight tag. Of course, she was tiny and already glowed. Still, she fashioned something that acted much like a flashlight for Peter. The object was to find the other person in the dark and shine the flashlight on them. They would then take the light and chase you around. He loved that game, but they only used it when one or the other needed a distraction. Once again, Peter was too perceptive at times.

Peter got up from the table with his now empty plate. "You should finish eating. I'll grab the flashlights."

"Right," she laughed.

He took his plate into the kitchen, and as he passed his mother, he gave her a quick hug. Sometimes it was easy to forget Peter would never grow up. He had astounding moments of maturity. Isabel could tell her was just trying to keep her mind off whatever was bothering her. He didn't ask or bug her to tell him. He just found a way to get her mind off it. Finishing her meal, she cleaned the kitchen. Her phone sat on the counter, but she stopped paying attention to it. When she worried, she'd get nauseous. She couldn't be nauseous if she was about to chase Peter around their backyard. Drying her hands off, she went to the backyard to find Peter checking the flashlight. He clicked it on and off, lighting his face every time.

"Everything ready?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yes. You know I don't think we've ever changed the batteries in these."

"Our lives reset after a year. I guess theirs did too," she shrugged.

"That's kinda crazy," he laughed.

"It is," she agreed.

He held out the flashlight to her. "Ladies first."

Isabel took it with a sigh, but she was only being playful with him. "Sure. Ladies first."

The two of them stood there for a second. It wasn't long until Peter took off away from her. She gave him a head start before running after him. The trick was to run slower than him. He really wasn't that much shorter than she was, but he was much younger. He could run a little bit faster. However, the point was to let him win. He had to or he'd very well throw a fit. At least, he would in Neverland. Peter was very different in Storybrooke. Peter was still just as mischievous as ever, but he respected Isabel, even though he'd forgotten that when he found out about his father. Throwing a fit gained him nothing in Storybrooke where it had in Neverland. She guessed he learned that at one point. She wasn't quite sure. Peter would always be a bit of a mystery to Isabel. Whatever he was playing at, she was always shocked by him.

Isabel chased Peter around the yard. Both of them laughed happily, but their joy was short-lived. Isabel's phone could be heard ringing in the kitchen. She stopped, trying to catch her breath and debating just letting it ring. Voicemail could tell her about Killian just as well as Mary Margaret or David. Peter trudged up to her. He took the flashlight from her and mumbled something about a time out. Isabel nodded. Going into the kitchen, she answered her phone. It was Mary Margaret informing her that Killian had in fact attacked Mr. Gold, but Emma subdued him in a closet. Thanking Snow, she hung up and returned outside. Peter stared at her for a minute before wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. He didn't ask what was wrong. He just hugged her. Honestly, Isabel was thankful to know that he was okay. She wasn't exactly pleased he had succeeded, but maybe that meant he would come back and things could progress. She was only fooling herself in thinking she would be okay with whatever he decided. It seemed this was part of her flip-flopping attitude towards the whole situation. She wanted her husband back. Isabel wanted her son to have his father. Terence was only a father figure, but Peter didn't necessarily see him as such.

Peter looked at her again with a grin on his face. He put the flashlight back in her hand, shining the light on her. "You're it!" He let go of her and ran away.

She shook her head before taking off after him. He giggled loudly as he ducked behind the large tree. Peeking out from behind it, he stuck his tongue out at Isabel. She stood with her hands on her hips, daring him to make a move out. They stood there challenging one another. It was a classic showdown between Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. It felt like they were back in Neverland for a moment. An owl hooted in the background, and a breeze passed through.

"You going to just stand there, Tink?" he asked, smirking at her.

Raising her eyebrow, she took the flashlight and clicked it on. "That depends. Are you going to move from that spot?"

"I might," he shrugged.

"Then I might do something," she told him. "But first you have to make a move."

He cocked his head to the side. "There I moved."

"You know what I mean," she grumbled.

"Well alright." His smirk turned into a grin. He walked from behind the tree but just enough that he could step right back behind it should she move.

"Play fair, Peter. Your father would call that bad form," she told him.

"My father isn't here," he shrugged. "Besides, would you play fair if you were in my shoes?"

"Yes I would," she nodded.

He took another step away from the tree. "Better?"

"Getting there," she nodded again. "Just a bit more, Pan."

"I'm already far enough," he told her.

"Then we are at an impasse, young sir." She stood just a tad taller.

He nodded. "That we are, mother."

"It's almost bed time, you know," she smirked.

"Boo!" He protested. "No bed time!"

"The longer you stay there, the less play time you have." She crossed her arms.

Peter whined at her. "But I'll lose!"

"There is a chance. I promise to let you at least run from me," she held her hands up to show she wasn't going to break her word.

He inched away, eyeing her. Peter moved away from the tree completely, and then he ran as fast as he could to the house. He glanced back to see if she were chasing him. She wasn't. She took a second to let him feel like he was going to win before actually letting him win. Once she felt like he was satisfied with hit lead, she ran after him. They always had safety zones. The tree meant he was free to move about without her being able to catch him. He ran inside because he knew getting to his room meant he had won. He was already heading up to claim his flashlight tag victory. His door slammed loudly to announce he'd won. She followed him into his room, collapsing on his bed. Giggling, she shined the flashlight at him.

"Good game?" Peter asked.

She nodded. "Oh yes."

"Get your mind off Hook?" he asked.

"How did you know?" she looked over at him.

"I didn't. Only guessing," he shrugged. "What's he done now?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned about. You just worry about being a little boy. Let the adults deal with their own problems," she sighed.

He nodded. "Oh alright."

"And now you need to get to bed. You have school tomorrow," she told him.

Peter shooed her out of the room so he could get ready for bed. She left so she too could get ready for bed. Going into her room, she changed into a pair of pajama shorts and an old sleep shirt. She pulled her hair into a low ponytail. Peter opened his door to indicate he was ready for her to tuck him in. She walked into the room, and he was sitting on the bed. He laid down while she closed the curtains. Walking over, she pulled his covers up to just underneath his chin. As she sat on the bed, she started to sing the lullaby Killian taught her. Peter sang along quietly settling in bed. She kissed his cheek as he closed his eyes. Very soon, he was asleep. Isabel slipped from the room and headed for her own.