He had no right to feel as strongly as he did. They hadn't known each other all that long, but ever since they pulled him out from under the pile of prone bodies back in the Enchanted Forest, he knew she was special. She was different.

Their time climbing the beanstalk had proven that he was right about her. She was both an open book and a lingering question mark to him. He could see the telltale scars of a child left alone for too long just as well as if they'd been brutally carved into her delicate skin, but whether she'd let him actually get to know her - that was still to be determined.

She had been distrustful at first. Something he really couldn't blame her for, given her past. Of course he was frustrated when she left him tied up with that giant, but he also smiled to himself at the fact that she didn't actually leave him to die - and the tiniest bit of hope had started to grow in the empty cavern of his chest, where his heart would have been if he thought he still had one.

It was that hope that made him take it easy on her during their sword fight at the lake. He had to make it look believable of course, but he couldn't actually bring himself to duel in earnest. She didn't have the same reservations, and with a wicked smirk and an impressive punch - he found himself bested once again, and smiling about it.

After finding the way to Storybrooke with Cora, the pull of his bloodlust overpowered him. He'd managed to chase the Crocodile to New York City and finally sink his hook into the demon - relishing the feeling of victory, the shock on the coward's face as he realized the game was over. The elation lasted only seconds before the fierce blonde he'd been so intrigued by beat him over the head and stuffed him into a dark cupboard.

He awoke with both a raging headache, and even more of a crush. He mused to himself that he must be some kind of masochist to have feelings for this woman who kept hitting him and abandoning him without so much as a second thought. And yet he couldn't help but grin at the thought of her - even as he rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head.

They were kindred spirits, whether she knew it or not. It became all the more apparent during their adventures in Neverland, where his romantic interest turned from a passing fancy to a full-blown infatuation. Her presence was clouding his thoughts even more than the oppressive humidity, and as she kissed him passionately under the cover of the forest, he was forever changed.

For the first time in several lifetimes, he thought it was actually possible to fall in love again, not even necessarily with her - just in general. He admitted as much in the Echo Caves, but it was all in service of saving her former love (at least he hoped he could say "former"), which complicated things a bit.

He'd decided to give them a fair shot. He knew all too well what a broken family could do to a boy, and he wanted Henry to at least have a chance of his parents staying together - though he seriously doubted Emma would go back to Neal. Hey may not know the particulars, but he knew that he'd hurt her too much. That amount of emotional damage would be incredibly difficult to undo.

And so he found himself hoping, yet again. He knew the chances were slim. Despite his dashing good looks, he was still a ruthless pirate, and though he suspected her capable of being equally ruthless - she was a princess, and deserved much better than a scoundrel like him. But that didn't stop him from wanting her. Desperately. And there was at least some small piece of her that was interested - their kiss in Neverland was evidence of that.

And then Pan's curse came billowing toward them and they all started to exchange goodbyes. Though he felt a bit like an interloper in the midst of all of the familial hugs, he stole a moment with her, willing himself to choke out a joke about her vibrant vehicle to lighten the mood as he tried to memorize every detail of her face. But he couldn't keep the levity up for long before his gaze turned reflective and serious.

"There's not a day will go by I won't think of you," he admitted quietly. He didn't expect reciprocation, and he knew she wouldn't remember this in a few moments, but he needed to say it all the same.

"Good."

His face lit up instantly. Lips curling into a gentle smile as hers ticked up ever so slightly at the edges, despite the sadness in her eyes from all of the emotional goodbyes.

The one word should have been enough to sustain his hope, but he felt it getting choked out just the same. She was leaving them behind, taking her boy to safety across that town line - and it felt like someone's nails were digging into the soft flesh of his heart as they squeezed relentlessly.

He watched the black tires roll across the crudely painted line showing the edge of the magical town, and as the curse wrapped itself around them, he was suddenly unable to breathe. The colorful smoke burned acridly in his lungs, his eyes stinging with either the grit of the magical fog or with tears he hadn't meant to shed.

The realization hit him so forcefully in that moment that he couldn't ignore it. He was in love with her, and unwilling to live a life without her - so he stumbled blindly across the line just moments before everyone else was sucked back to the Enchanted Forest.

With a loud pop he was standing in the middle of an unfamiliar road with absolutely no idea how he got there. It was the strangest feeling, suddenly appearing somewhere without any memory of what happened. He slowly made his way to the edge of the road and sat down on a fallen tree to catch his breath and get his wits about him.

He raked a hand through his hair, bowing his head and closing his eyes as he focused on sifting through his thoughts and memories. It came back in flashes - waiting out the curse with Cora, pretending to be a blacksmith, Snow White, Emma Swan, the beanstalk, the compass…

They fought, he lost, Cora found another way (as she always does.) He remembered standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger - the proud ship creaking and swaying beneath him as they dove headlong into a swirling vortex headed to… somewhere. But then it all went black.

There were a few moments where he's in an incredibly strange place - gigantic square buildings that look to be made of glass rather than stone, finding the Crocodile, stabbing him with his poisoned hook, and then nothing. None of this makes sense…

He stood up and stretched, trying to shake off the itchy feeling that such an unsettling change in circumstances brings. One thing was for sure, he was not going to get any answers standing in the bloody forest.

Back at the road he looked left and right, trying to decide which direction to go. Both seemed to look exactly the same, but for some strange reason he felt compelled to go to the right, setting off at a steady but unhurried pace to nowhere in particular.

The longer he walked, the more things come into focus, - though, as the pieces fill in, he realized that there are specific chunks of his memory missing. After fighting with the heroes he was standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger with Cora, then nothing. Then he's somewhere in the Land Without Magic, stabbing the Dark One. Emma yells and hits him, then nothing.

He continues to search his thoughts until he finds something new - he's back on the Jolly, trying to steady the ship as it comes out of what must have been one hell of a storm. As the ship settles he can see he's not with his usual crew, but rather Snow White, Prince Charming, Emma, the Evil Queen and… the Crocodile.

He seethes with anger at the memory - as if he's upset about his own apparent betrayal, for letting the demon aboard his ship. He briefly wonders how he's even alive, given that he recalled stabbing him with his dreamshade-laced hook. Nobody could survive that - not even the Dark One.

And yet, the memory was clear: they were headed to Neverland to save Emma Swan's son - Baelfire's son.

He'd done that boy a great injustice by not coming back for him, by giving him up to Pan - perhaps that's why he'd joined forces with the heroes, to quell his longstanding quilt over Bae by helping to save his son.

But he still wasn't sure that was quite enough to get him to work alongside the Crocodile. There was absolutely nothing more that he wanted in the world than to see that man suffer - but there must've been something that made him set that aside for a time.

A mere moment later another memory flooded his senses without warning. Emma was tugging on his lapels, pulling him into a searing kiss after he helped spare the Prince an ugly death by dreamshade (which brought up another memory he preferred not to linger on). His heart swelled at the possibilities hidden in their passionate kiss, the way she moved against him felt so right.

The rest of their time in Neverland filled in quickly: the caves, saving the boy, trapping Pan - getting back to the ship. Yet again, he found himself standing on the Jolly Roger, headed… somewhere, with the successful band in tow. He knew it wasn't the Enchanted Forest - it was somewhere in the Land Without Magic, but he couldn't for his life remember where.

And since that was the last thing he could recall, he figures that must be where he is. He must be in the Land Without Magic. But then where was everyone else? Where was the Jolly? Most importantly, where was Emma?

He was unsure if his navigational skills were as accurate in this realm as they are in his own. He used the path of the sun to get his bearings, and continued to cut a path Southwest. After a few hours he came upon a town, disengaging and tucking away his hook before finding a curious little tavern of sorts (apparently it's called a diner), where they looked at him strangely and whispered to themselves.

He's fairly used to be people staring at him, it's ordinarily out of fear, his cutthroat reputation preceding him. But this is different. He doesn't fit in - his clothes don't look anything like what they're wearing. They all look much more like Emma Swan than himself or the Evil Queen - and he knows his time here needs to be brief.

He chatted quickly with the proprietor and discovered he was in a small town in a place called Maine, but it isn't until the kindly old woman mentions her daughter in New York City that something clicks.

That's it. That's the name of the place he went before - that's where he should go.

"How can I get there?" he cut her off harshly with his enthusiasm.

"What, to New York?" she was ruffled by his rudeness, but answered anyway.

"Aye."

"Do you have a car?" Her glance drifted down to his missing hand, unsure if he could even legally drive one handed.

He scratched behind his ear nervously at the scrutiny.

"My current, uhm, means of transportation are limited."

"Well it's gonna take more than walking if you want to get there this month. How about money, do you have money?" She added.

"Aye." He pulled a few coins from his satchel and the way her eyes widen tells him that his gold is just as valuable here as it was in the Enchanted Forest.

"A bit unorthodox, but I can make that work." She smiled at him and tells him to stay put. She comes back with some papers, telling him to wait at the corner, and when the bus pulls up, he should get aboard and show the attendant this paper. The rest he'll have to navigate on his own - there will be a few vehicle changes, but so long as he keeps these papers and follows their directions, he'll get there alright.

He leaves her with a stack of coins that would've bought him a month's worth of rum back in the Enchanted Forest, assuming it more than covered whatever expenses she incurred to arrange his travels - and the way she smiled and waved at him as the bus departed ensured him that she felt her payment was ample.

The bus was surprisingly comfortable. There weren't very many other passengers, so he got to stretch out a bit - his tired legs glad for the rest. But it didn't take long from him to drift off to sleep, the rumbling movements of the vehicle oddly reminiscent of his beloved ship.

Though the journey had been relatively easy, he was still quite happy to see the familiar buildings of the city come into view. He had no idea how he was going to accomplish it, but he knew he had to find Emma Swan, and something told him she was here.

Curiously, he found himself fitting in much more easily in New York City than he did in the small town in Maine. As he wandered the streets, waiting for something spark his recollections, it became apparent that the people here just went about their own business - no lingering glances at his attire, no hushed whispers at his missing hand, nobody even noticed him.

There was an impressive fountain made of stone, and as he stopped to admire it several children ran past him - pressing as closely as possible to the pool's edge before squeezing their eyes shut for a few moments and tossing a coin into the water. He'd heard of children doing something similar at the "wishing wells" back in his land, and he smiled at the resemblance.

It was then that he noticed it - the sign for Wooster St. That's where he went when he came here before. With a renewed sense of direction he strode down the street, searching for the next clue. Within a few minutes he found the building, but he stood just inside the doorway, staring dumbly at the staircase and a horrible sinking feeling set in as he realized the trail went cold here. This is the last thing he remembered before Emma knocked him out. He's truly on his own from here on out.

He scrubbed his hand along the scruff at his jaw, determined to solve this riddle and find Emma - to make sure she's alright. To make sure her boy is alright. To be perfectly honest, he would be happy to find out that the Crocodile didn't survive the trip - but everyone else was important to her, and therefore they were important to him.

He shuffled through his addled memories to his first trip here. Why would the Dark One come here in the first place? Why would someone so determined to keep his magical edge, want to come to a land without magic? And why would Emma come with him?

He'd been chasing the Crocodile long enough to know him better than anyone else alive, and there was only one thing in the world that came as a close second to his love of power - and that was his his son, Baelfire.

The pieces shifted into place as Killian recalled Bae's hatred of magic, the way he blamed magic for turning his father into a power-hungry monster. Bae obviously found a way to come to the Land Without Magic, where he met Emma - where they fell in love. The bile bubbled up in his stomach with petty jealousy over Bae's time with her, and he did his best to ignore it in favor of figuring out where to go next.

Rumplestiltskin must've found out that Baelfire lived here, in New York City - and so he came to find him, using Emma as a guide in the unfamiliar territory. This building was either where they stayed while they searched, or where Baelfire lived.

Regardless - it was a start, but he couldn't very well just knock on every door in the entire building. At one point or another,someone would have to enter or exit the building - and he resolved to stay close by and keep watch, determined to find out what had brought them here, what had happened, and if Emma was alright.

Emma hummed along with Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" as Henry diligently watered plants. If you would've told her all those years ago, when she was pregnant and alone and terrified, that she'd wind up being a successful single mother and bail bondsperson - she would've laughed in your face. And yet, here they were. They were both resilient, strong, smart - and horribly late.

"OK kid, while I appreciate the effort, the plants will wait, but your bus won't. You're gonna be late for school."

He rolled his eyes at her as he put the watering can on the counter next to the sink. That was one of those traits she wished he hadn't gotten from her, but there it was.

"Not nearly as late as you are for work," he teased her as he grabbed his backpack.

"Yeah, yeah," she called to him as she pulled on a pair of boots. "But I'm still gonna make it out the door before yo-"

The sound of the door snapping shut made her shoulders slump in defeat as she pulled her phone out to send him a text.

It's rude to leave without saying goodbye, you know.

She'd barely had time to grab her keys before her phone buzzed in her back pocket.

It's also rude to be late - keep that in mind when you see Walsh for dinner tonight. You can't be your regular self until at least date #3.

That snarky little- the phone buzzed again almost immediately.

But in the spirit of good manners, "Bye, mom" love you

As much as she wanted to be annoyed with him, she just ended up chuckling and typing out a quick "love you, too" before heading out the door herself.

Her boss, Cleo, always said that it wasn't all about dramatic chases through the busy city streets, that the real work of finding a skip is done at the desk from nine to five - which, to be honest, was the part of her job she liked the least.

But she was good at it. She had an uncanny ability to track people down, and she always found her mark. Desperate to avoid yet another lecture on the importance of the daily grind, she ran most of the way to work, sliding into her desk just a moment before Cleo came around the corner with her morning coffee.

The rest of her work day passed without incident. As much as she hated to admit it, her boss was right - the hours spent at her laptop had proven to be incredibly productive. With just a little bit of Facebook and Instagram searching she'd found out more about her skip than she ever could have just by hitting the streets.

Turns out Josh Croft has a boyfriend who doesn't know (or doesn't care) to turn off his geotagging, so she's got a pretty good idea of which street they live on - and with a good old-fashioned stakeout, she could figure out their building in no time.

She took a quick look at her phone and figured she had enough time to scan the general area for a few minutes to see if she could catch either of them coming or going. Taking another look at the location tags she scrawled the most likely address onto a post it - Wooster St.

In a few short minutes she was sitting out on the patio at an annoyingly hipster coffee shop, pretending to be playing with her phone, but mostly keeping an eye out for Josh or his boyfriend. She could only spare another 10 minutes or so, but even if she didn't see them today, she knew this was a big break in the case.

At any rate, the people-watching was always fun. She could glean so much about someone with just a quick up-and-down glance. That woman shuffling her feet in close little steps, the one wearing form-fitting yoga pants and a "long hair don't care" t-shirt effortlessly draped over one shoulder, hair pulled up into a messy bun? She spent an hour and half creating that "look" and has never done a minute of yoga in her life. That guy in the impeccably tailored suit with a pound of product in his hair? He's lying through his teeth to whoever is on the other end of that phone call.

Her eyes kept scanning the sidewalk, taking mental notes about everyone who passed - that is, until she saw him. At first she almost laughed, he was dressed in this completely outrageous long leather jacket (which must have weighed 50 pounds), with black leather pants that hugged his lean legs just perfectly, a black leather vest that cut a deep v into his broad chest, showing off a smattering of crisp hair. It was like pirate-obsessed Depeche Mode fan had dressed him.

But the more she watched him, the more she didn't feel like laughing. Despite the admittedly ludicrous outfit, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. His inky dark hair was disheveled just the right amount, his jawline strong and set hard as he was lost in thought, fiercely blue eyes seeing just enough in front of him to avoid running into people, but clearly his mind was somewhere else.

To be fair, with him looking like that - all black leather and fierce determination, her mind was quickly wandering somewhere else as well… She licked her lips subconsciously before shaking her head to ward off the thoughts.

Shit. Walsh.

The time on her phone showed that she was about to be late - and Henry would never live that down. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and he did give her a great deal on that end table, but she still wasn't sure how she felt about him. Henry had insisted that's what dating is for anyway.

She pushed her chair back hastily as she stood and run back to her yellow bug - firing up the engine and pulling away from the curb just as the man was finally pulled from his thoughts.

Their eyes caught for only a second or two, but the look on his face wasn't one that she would easily forget - it was like her knew her. Like he recognized her somehow. His lips were parted ever-so-slightly as if there was a question perched delicately between them, ready to fall in just a moment. But she couldn't wait to figure out what it was and with another turn of the wheel she was gone.