She holds the blank piece of parchment before her. Pan had claimed that it contains a map that will lead them to Henry and all she needs to do is stop denying who she really is. Which is much easier said than done, considering saying she is the savior, something she doesn't really believe in nor is it something she wants to define her, has not yielded any results on the map.
She doesn't want to admit it to the group, but Pan has shaken her confidence. She stupidly listened to Regina to enchant the map with a locator spell and all it did was leave them fighting lost boys, which was much more terrible than it sounded. The lost boys are just that, boys-children, but they fought to kill without remorse or regret in their eyes. Beyond that though, the despair in their eyes, that lost look mirrored in her own eyes was something she simply couldn't shake.
She saw him watching her from a distance as though he knew what she was feeling. But it only amplified her hopelessness and confusion. Her parents didn't get it, eternally optimistic and never losing hope. Regina was the last person she'd ever confide in, knowing her words would only be twisted around to be used against her later from the bitter and jaded woman full of evil tendencies. She wanted Killian, her Killian from Boston.
Despite her desire to be alone, her mother sits down on the log next to her. "That boy, why did you stop fighting him?" She asks.
"Cause he was...just a boy." Emma replies.
"No." Her mother prods. "There was more than that. I saw it in your eyes. Why did you stop?"
Fine. If her mother really wants to know why she stopped fighting the boy, she'll tell her. She had tried so hard to spare their feelings, not wanting to further hurt her parents, but if Mary-Margaret was really going to press her, then she was going to get the truth.
"The look in his eyes..the despair. I had it back when I was in the foster system. Just a little lost girl who didn't matter and didn't think she would." She says, angling her head away from her mother before continuing with the words she knew would hurt but that she could no longer hold back.
"A little girl who cried herself to sleep at night because…" she pauses, trying not to allow her voice to crack, to show the emotions she had kept secret for so long. "She wanted her parents so bad. And could never understand why they gave her up."
The silence hangs between them for a moment and Emma begins to regret sharing her true feelings but then her mother finally speaks. "And then you found us. But it was too late." She says quietly.
The words tumble from her lips. "It's just...on this island, I don't feel like a hero or a savior. I just feel like what I've always been. An orphan."
"Emma." Her mother says.
She closes her eyes briefly, trying to think of how to re-word what she has just said to make it sound less...mean. She never intended to hurt her parents with her words, but this was the truth. Her entire life she was an orphan. Finding them now means nothing. Her entire childhood was still spent as an orphan and that's the simple truth of it.
"What?" She finally asks, steeling herself for the onslaught of emotions her mother is bound to throw at her.
"Look!"
The blank parchment has finally transformed into a map, showing the details of the island and a path that she can only assume will lead her to Henry.
"What happened?" She asks, dumbly.
"You accepted who you are." Her mother replies.
The words hang heavily between them. "I'm sorry," she says, knowing the words aren't enough.
Her mother offers her a small smile. "It's okay. It's the truth. You were an orphan. It's my job to change that."
-\-
"The map is working." She says to the group.
Regina is ready to set off immediately, to follow the map, regardless of what they may encounter along the way, with no set plan in mind. Her father persuades against it, saying that they need a plan and Emma agrees. They already followed Regina's plan once, by enchanting the parchment and look where that got them. No closer to Henry than before and they had pissed off Pan in the process. They needed a new plan.
She can't hide the surprise on her face when Hook agrees with her. "Excellent show of patience, love. And that's what defeats a nasty boy."
"I hope so." She admits.
"So how did you unlock the map?" He asks genuinely curious.
"I did what Pan asked." She replies, being intentionally vague.
"And just who are you, Swan?" he asks, teasingly.
"Wouldn't you like to know." She deadpans.
With a sincere smile and a teasing tone he replies "Perhaps I would."
-\-
It's hard to be hopeful here. The sun never really shines here, the silken rays unable to make their way through the dense trees and shrubbery to the rocks and hard ground below. The breeze barely makes it through as well, only softly whispering through and never enough to be refreshing. The humidity is persistent during the day, never ceasing and instead weighing down so heavily on the thin air that does make it through the trees. At night it gets cold, bitterly cold and much like one would expect on a frozen tundra and not a tropical island. Thankfully the breeze still doesn't make it through at night, but the temperatures plummet far enough to catch any unsuspecting visitors off guard, puffs of white air coming from their lips.
In a way, she is thankful Hook is with them and he has been here before. Navigating this treaturous island, even with magic, is not something she even wants to think about doing alone. He knows the safer places to walk, which berries are edible and which are poisonous. He knows which large tree leaves provide the best warmth and comfort when they lie down to camp.
Realizing that even Neal had given up hope in counting the number of days he had been on the island hurt her more than she imagined. The feeling of hopelessness didn't just end with her. It extended to anyone who came to this dreadful place under happy pretences that their childhoods would be so much better without their parents telling them what to do.
"Swan?" he inquires.
"What? We're wasting time." She says impatiently.
"I...I just wanted to let you know that I do know what it feels like. To lose hope." He confesses, trying to appeal to her emotions.
"I know what this is. This...you...this is you trying to bond with me. So, save your breath. I'm not in the mood." She pushes past him to get back to the group.
-\-
"Hook...he saved my life." Her father declares once he and Hook have returned from their mission to find the sextant.
Her eyes swing to his, catching the surprised look on his face.
Her father continues. "We were ambushed by lost boys. But Hook, he risked his life to stop me from getting hit by a poisoned arrow. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be alive. You flask, please." He finishes, gesturing to Hook.
Uncorking the flask, her father smiles at the incredulous looks on the women's faces. "I thought he deserved a little credit."
"Thank you." Hook says with a shy smile.
The others have moved on down the trail. Emma knows she should let this one go, but she finds herself unable. Taking a swig from his flask, she asks "You really saved his life?"
His body is angled away from her, staring into the dense trees ahead. "That surprise you?" She doesn't miss the self-deprecation in his tone.
"Well," She says, stepping forward to hand the flask back to him. "You and David aren't exactly...how do you say it... mates?" she teases in a terrible imitation of a British accent.
She expects at least a smile in return but he only averts his eyes from her for a few seconds before returning them to her again. "Doesn't mean I'd leave your father to perish on this island."
"Thank you." She says sincerely, smiling.
She watches as his hand comes up to scratch behind his ear. "Well," he practically whispers. "Perhaps gratitude is in order now." He dons a cheeky grin and taps on his bottom lip.
Her eyes widen and her lips curve into a smile at the brazenness of his request, but she can't find it in herself to pull away. The flirtations between them are pulling her in closer to him, like the ebb and sway of the tide. "Yeah, that's what the 'thank you' was for."
"Mmm." He says with a grin, eyebrow quirking up. "That's all your father's life is worth to you?" He asks, stepping even further into her space.
Her eyes flicker to his lips for just a second. "Please." She retorts with a shake of her head. "You couldn't handle it." But she finds herself even closer to him, barely a foot of space between them.
"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it." He challenges, popping the "t" and locking his eyes intently on hers.
She stares at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out what he is trying to do. They've already kissed, when they first met and it did nothing to bring back the Killian she once knew. In this moment, she doesn't care.
One brief thought crosses her mind. Fuck it.
And then her hands are reaching out, one grabbing the lapel of his coat and the other cupping the back of his head as her lips crash furiously into his. He doesn't react at first, almost frozen in time until her teeth nip at his bottom lip. His hand finds her hair, pulling her into him as he deepens the kiss.
She pouring every ounce of emotion she possesses into the kiss. Hope, desire, impatience, anger and indignation. The kiss is unlike the one they shared before. The air between them is electrically charged, nearly crackling as they connect. She is somewhat disoriented, feeling as though the earth is spinning off its axis and she can't tell the sky from the ground.
They stumble backward slightly and it is enough to break the kiss. Her forehead is pressed to his, her fingers still tightly curled around the lapels of his coat as though she is trying to keep him there forever. "That was…" He starts, completely unsure of how to finish that sentence.
Against every fiber in her body telling her to fuse her lips to his again she completes his sentence. "A one time thing." And then she is quickly backing away from him and into the forest to find the others before she finds herself kissing him again.
"Don't follow me." She says, once her back is to him and her mind has cleared slightly. "Wait five minutes and then go find some firewood or something."
"As you wish." He replies.