Hey guys! See, I wasn't gone long. Haha.

I loved seeing Killian in NYC and just wish that it wasn't so easy for him to convince Emma to drink the potion. I thought it would be cuter if he perhaps got her to remember a different way…;) I don't think this will end up being too long (less than 15K words I'd guess, but we all know how good I am at predicting story length).

So, here's my NYC Serenade canon-divergence. Hope you guys enjoy!

~cosette141

Killian landed painfully on the grass as the light from the portal faded.

Portals were seldom gentle.

But the moment the sharp sound of one of those driving machines reached his ears, he lifted his head.

He was back in the land without magic.

Her land.

Patting the inside pocket of his coat as he stood to make sure the potion bottle survived the trip, Killian let himself relax slightly.

Since he'd sailed here last in his attempt to kill the crocodile, Killian simply thought of the port where he'd pulled in. That's where he was now, seeing the sun beginning to set below the horizon.

Killian took a breath.

It's been a year.

A full year.

Twelve months, he's spent without seeing her.

None of which he's spent without thinking of her.

He's made good on the promise he made her the day the curse hit, without even having to try.

"There won't be a day that goes by that I won't think of you."

"Good."

He'd gone back to pirating, but something wasn't the same. There was just something about Emma Swan that was so incredibly different, so enticing, so captivating, that every time he'd forget her for a moment, he'd see her in a shadow or hear her voice in the crowd of a tavern. It was never her, of course, but the truth of it was that he couldn't shake her, not even after all this time.

And not that he'd have admitted it to anyone, but he hadn't even so much as flirted with a woman in the entire twelve months that had gone by. He'd catch the eye of many, but they weren't her, and any interest he might have had was gone just as she was.

Not even his loss of Milah had kept him from trying to find new passion with another woman. In fact, he'd been with many as if the nameless women could fill the emptiness in his chest. None had.

Not until Emma.

And now, even a year later, having spent that year knowing he'd never see her again, and that she had quite literally forgotten everything about him… he couldn't bring himself to let go. It was infuriating.

So, the fact that a new curse has arisen, and that he'd received the message that Emma was needed once again… well, it felt more a blessing than a curse. He'd outrun the effects of it, scrounged up as much memory potion as he could find, and… acquired the Bean.

He shut his eyes briefly, thinking about his sacrifice for the Bean.

Without hesitation, he knew he would never regret it.

Killian turned away from the sea, toward the city.

Emma's family needed her.

Emma needed him.

Whether she remembered it or not.

Suddenly, Killian found himself playing the hero.

A smile played at his lips.

Time to rescue the damsel.

Part of the message he'd received about the new curse included Emma's location. It was in a structure called an apartment building. There was no signature on the message, so Killian wasn't sure who exactly sent it, but he guessed either Snow White or Charming, and Regina perhaps was the one to track her down. Emma was currently under Regina's fashioned memory curse.

As he walked into town, the bustle of the city's morning traffic starting to pick up around him, Killian tugged a single leather glove over his hook. Somewhere in his haste to outrun the curse he'd lost his blasted prosthetic hand. And he'd learned the hard way, the last time he was here, that the people of this realm did not take well to seeing a man with a hook for a hand.

The glove, however, didn't stop him from turning heads. And though he normally welcomed the attention, he knew it was more for what he was wearing than his devilishly handsome looks. But no one gave him a look that lingered that long, so he figured the people here might be used to seeing some interesting things after all.

Since the only thing written on the message was a number, the name of a road, and the number of Emma's "apartment", it took swallowing some pride and approaching three people—for the first two ignored him completely—to get directions.

But soon, he was walking inside the building, reaching for the handle and pulling, but it remained closed. He yanked it again, surprised when it finally gave way under his attempts.

"Are you trying to get in?"

Killian tensed, halfway to pulling his glove off to attempt to pick the lock with his hook, as a man dressed in the same type of wear Regina took on in Storybrooke held the door for him as he was leaving, holding a leather case in his hand.

"Aye, I am," said Killian slowly, forcing a smile. "I'm here to see my…" He couldn't come up with a title for her, but he didn't need to.

The man just smiled knowingly. "Gotcha. I can let you in." He gave Killian a once over, making Killian tense again. "Are you, like, an actor or something?"

Finally, a term he understands. There were plenty of plays and theatrics in the Kingdom. None of which Killian had been all that interested in. "Yes?" said Killian, accepting the cover story.

"Nice costume," said the man, making Killian furrow his brows at his antique leather.

"Good luck with the girl," said the man with a wink as he walked off.

"Thanks, mate," Killian sighed. Luck is definitely something he could use.

Common sense helped him find her room, noting that her number was 311, and all the doors on the first floor began with the number 1. Finding doors that led to stairs, Killian took them two at a time.

Walking down the third story hallway, Killian found himself straightening the collar of his jacket, and adjusting the glove on his hook. If she didn't remember who he was or anything about her life in Storybrooke, the last thing she needed to see was a one-handed pirate before her memories came back.

His heart picked up a bit in speed as he passed 310.

And finally, he was standing before 311.

Taking a breath, he pounded several times on the door and waited. When silence met him, he repeated it, suddenly worrying that perhaps she wasn't home. And then…

The lock turned in the door and it swung open to reveal—

Killian froze.

An entire year.

He couldn't help the grin breaking out on his face.

"Swan."

Her name breathed out of him, like relief. All this time, the woman he couldn't get out of his head, his dreams, his patched-up heart. "At last," he whispered.

She stood in all her glory, long blond locks draped over her shoulders, and Killian's smile grew, taking a step forward as if an invisible force pulled him toward her—

She quickly put up a hand to stop him, making his heart hitch painfully.

"Woah," she said as she took in his appearance apprehensively. "Do I know you?"

That smile of his stuttered.

She looked him in the eye, no recognition in the sea of hazel. That hurt more than he cared to admit.

"Look," he said, talking through the tightness of his chest, clawing for any words that would keep her from shutting the doors. "I need your help. Something's happened. Something terrible. Your family is in trouble."

Her brow lifted sharply. "My family is right here." Then, it narrowed. "Who are you?"

That pain, it rose in his chest again. Sharp, like a dagger stealing his breath.

He'd rather her glare at him any day than see that emptiness in her eyes.

"An old friend." he said, the words painful. "Look, I know you can't remember me." Hope—such a rare emotion within him—rose sharply and he stepped forward, taking her face in his hand in the moment he's dreamed of for so long, and whispered, "But I can make you."

His lips met hers for half a second, and she tasted as sweet as she did that night in Neverland. Killian shut his eyes, everything he missed, everything he needed right here before him and—

Pain erupted as she kneed him in his personal treasure and he was shoved back into the wall. He groaned.

"The hell are you doing?!" she gasped.

Pain far worse than the one coursing through his lower half was breaking somewhere in his chest.

It didn't bloody work.

But she was still staring at him, breathing hard, a wild look in her eye.

"A long shot…I had to try…" Breathless, Killian tried not to collapse. "I was hoping… you felt as I did…"

"What you'll feel is handcuffs when I call the cops!" she growled.

Hook tried to stay upright despite the pain-because, bloody hell, was she stronger than he remembered-"Look, I know this seems crazy, but you have to listen to me!"

Emma angrily grabbed the door, and Killian desperately reached for her, "You have to remem—"

The door slammed in his face, and he heard the lock slide into place.

He let himself fall to the ground, riding the waves of pain, because dammit she hit him where it counted.

But even so, it didn't match the sharp pain in his chest, because there was a sliver of him that had hoped that what they shared before the curse might have been strong enough to make her remember here and now.

Killian rubbed his hand over his face.

Well that went bloody brilliantly.

"Hey!"

Killian jerked at the shout, seeing a different man than before glaring at him, dropping a bag onto the ground and stalking toward him. "Did you just attack that girl?"

Killian screwed his eyes shut.

Bloody hell.

He picked himself up and ran.

The man chased him down two flights of stairs, most likely just to ensure he was leaving, but Killian ran the entire way down. He stumbled at the bottom and pushed open an exit door, cool air rushing up to meet him.

Killian rubbed his eyes with his hand. The last thing he needed was to be caught and thrown into a brig. And as much as he wished she would, this was Emma he was dealing with, and there was no way she was opening that door a second time.

The fact of it remained—whatever Emma had felt for him wasn't strong enough to break the curse she was under.

He knew he had the potion, but the thought of him being enough to break the curse, him being enough to remind her…

Imagining kissing her and seeing her open her eyes, recognition shining bright in them, her leaning in to kiss him back...

They weren't True Love.

And Killian knew how rare it was; Snow and Charming were the first he's ever come across who were, and he's met many a person and heard many a legend in his three hundred years. To even think that he and Emma could have such a thing made him feel foolish.

But just because it wasn't True, doesn't mean that it wasn't love. For him, at least, he knew it was. And the way she'd looked at him that year ago, when she left…

He could have sworn that look in her eyes meant something. It was the first time he'd glimpsed past those godforsaken walls of steel she's built around herself.

Stumbling to a stop in an alleyway beside the building she lived in, he caught his breath, glad the pain had begun to subside. He reached in his jacket, pulling out the bottle of memory potion. Held it like a lifeline.

He shut his eyes briefly.

It didn't matter if their love wasn't True.

At least, he told himself it didn't.

Emma managed to make him feel something for the first time since Milah. She managed to cure his thirst for revenge. He finally found something worth living for. He'd been so determined to avenge Milah he'd nearly died for it so many times.

He held desperately onto that look in Emma's eyes the last time he saw her.

That look meant something.

"A man who doesn't fight for what he wants deserves what he gets."

Killian let out a breath, straightening.

Held the potion bottle tighter.

Regardless of what she felt for him, she was still an orphan in that building, unaware of who her parents were. He'd seen how much her abandonment had affected her in Neverland. Hell, Killian knew himself what it felt like to be abandoned—or in his case, sold—by his father. The memory of Emma's parents had been wiped away, and that pain was right back where it used to be.

He needed to remind her of them, at the very least. They needed her now, but she needed them just as much. Even if she didn't remember it.

Even if that meant once he did reunite them... he didn't remain at her side.

Emma's family was counting on him, and so was Emma.

However, he wasn't a hero.

He didn't need Henry's book to know that.

But the Savior needed a savior of her own and he was going to do his damn best to be one.

The first thing he saw was her lad.

Not a handful of minutes after he'd taken up the seat on a bench across from the road from her building in a wooded area, half-hidden from view thanks to a wall of trees, Henry exited the building. The boy had a sack strapped to his back, and he was joined by two other boys his age. They laughed at something one of them said as they started walking along the concrete path away from the building. It was both strange and nice to see the boy look so… happy. With friends his own age, no less.

Not long after that, he watched Emma herself exit the building.

There she was, blond hair catching his eye, making him jerk upright. He watched her leave the building gates, suddenly with a radiant smile he's never seen from her aimed at something she saw. It startled him for a moment, seeing it. Seeing her, so…

Happy.

Something in his chest tugged at him, a wish that maybe he could elicit such a smile from her.

Killian froze, halfway to his feet.

A man approached her, and Emma's smile deepened. She walked up to him, sliding her arms around his neck.

And kissed him.

Killian watched, rigid.

Emma pulled away, still smiling that smile that made her look even more beautiful.

The man gave her something that Killian recognized as coffee from his short time in Storybrooke, and they talked for a moment. Something he said made Emma giggle.

Emma Swan never giggled.

Killian's entire chest felt like ice.

Emma smiled at the man again.

Killian's never seen her smile that much in the entire time he's known her.

He gave her another kiss, the sight making Killian look away.

Then they parted ways, walking in opposite directions.

Moving numb legs, Killian followed Emma.

Not exactly sure what his plan was to convince her to drink the potion—since he was bloody daft enough to have thought the kiss would have been enough, and the potion could have simply gone to the lad—Killian shook off the emotions.

Part of him glared off in the direction the bastard she'd kissed went, Killian fought the urge to follow his pirate instincts and gut the man.

But he couldn't lose Emma; he had no clue where she was going and it would be impossible to find her if he didn't talk with her now. This city had as many people as the Enchanted Forest had trees. But at least she wasn't with the bastard, because he needed her alone.

In every sense of the bloody word.

So when she crossed the street to pass through the park, he picked up his pace.

She was mid-sip of the coffee beverage, walking through an empty section of the wooded area, when he stepped in her way, holding up a hand in an attempted peace offering.

She stopped, nearly coughing on the drink. Her eyes grew wide, and quickly angry. "You!"

"Please," said Killian quickly. "Don't scream. I can explain."

"You are a stalker!" hissed Emma.

"Just hear me out," he said quickly, and with a sharp raise of her brows, he knew he bought himself at least a few seconds. "I've come to do something I don't usually do, so, treasure it, love." He took a breath. "I'd like to apologize," said Killian. "I was not the gentleman I should have been this morning and I didn't mean to scare you." Slowly, he said, "I was simply trying to jog your memory."

Emma's eyes narrowed angrily. "Get out of my way." She moved to walk around him, but he quickly stepped into her path.

Fire danced in her eyes. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't call the cops."

"Because," said Killian, "You know me. We met nearly two years ago. After you moved to a town called Storybrooke. You just don't remember."

His words only seemed to make her more and more think he was out of his mind. "I've never been anywhere named that," said Emma firmly, "and I was in Boston two years ago! My apartment burned down and we moved here."

"Regina's curse did quite the number on you, didn't it?" muttered Killian. He needed proof. Before she could interrupt, he blurted, "I know you're an orphan."

Emma froze. "I—oh, my god, you really are a stalker!"

"No, I'm not," said Killian firmly, though not exactly sure what a stalker was. "When you moved to Storybrooke, you met your parents. Your family. There's more than just you and Henry." At the mention of her son's name, a new fear dawned in Emma's eyes.

Killian quickly learned he hated seeing fear in her eyes.

And hated even more that he was causing it.

"They're in danger, Emma," he said heavily. "They need you." As do I, added a faint whisper in the back of his mind.

Pain flashed in Emma's eyes. "So not only are you a psycho stalker, you're willing to use the fact that I'm an orphan against me? You're a psycho and an ass!"

"I'm not, I swear on my life, Emma," said Killian in a pained voice. "Please, just listen to me for a moment," said Killian heavily. "Two years ago you met your parents, the ones you thought gave you up because they didn't want you—" Her eyes went wide, but he didn't stop, "—but they didn't; they gave you up to protect you from a curse. You weren't born in this world, you were born in a different realm. The realm where I am from," he said quickly, searching her eyes for any form of recognition. Not even a spec. "You were left on the side of the road and you've spent your whole life looking for your parents. You couldn't find them because they've been trapped in a cursed town that's hidden from view."

All he saw was shock and fear.

Not a trace of recognition anywhere.

Damn you, Regina.

Any proof of what he knew about her just sounded like he was "stalking" her, and any talk of magic was making her think he was out of his mind. And dammit if he didn't need her to take the memory potion willingly for it to work, he'd spike a drink of hers and apologize for a lifetime afterward to amend such a crude thing.

"Curses and alternate worlds—you need serious help." She picked up her metal talking device again, backing away from him. "I'm calling the cops—"

"No!" he said quickly. "Emma, listen to me." He pulled the bottle of potion from his jacket. "You don't remember me, your parents or Storybrooke because you were put under a memory curse to give you false memories." He held the bottle up in his hand. "This is a memory potion," he said quietly. "If you drink it, you'll remember everything."

"Drink the thing the crazy guy offered me?" Emma shut her eyes for a moment, like she was trying to compose herself. It didn't work. They snapped open and she said, "Even if I did believe you, which I do not, why would I do that? My life here is great," she said, and it briefly stung because he heard the truth in those words. She was happy, even if it was a lie. "I have my son, a job, I have someone I love."

The words raw and forced through him, Killian said, "Perhaps there's a man you love in the life you forgot." The words felt like a raw wound after what happened with the kiss, after learning that he meant far less to her than she did him.

But Emma didn't catch his true meaning. "Then it sucks for him."

Truer words.

Killian bit down on the panic rising. He gestured with the bottle again. "Please, Emma. Some part of you has to know this isn't right. It isn't real." When nothing in her face changed, he tried, "Just trust me, love."

He quickly realized his mistake of using the T word. Emma's brows shot to her hairline. "Trust you? The crazy stalker who forced himself on me?"

Killian cringed. "I didn't mean to—"

"I'm not going to let you drug me," she said firmly. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"Emma, please," whispered Killian, desperate now. "You have to remember! Your family needs you—"

Emma just blinked. "You're insane." She moved to walk away. He stepped in front of her again.

There was one last thing he could try.

"You know our stories; you just don't know they're real," he said heavily. "You've told me that you knew my story since you were a child." He took a steadying breath, shutting his eyes. "My name is Hook," he said, opening them, holding her bewildered gaze as he specified, "Captain Hook."

Emma's expression changed then. Killian's heart shifted in hope. In a whisper, Emma asked, "Is Peter Pan here, too?"

A chill ran down Killian's spine, despite the rush of hope that he was beginning to get through to her. "Of course not! The Crocodile killed the bloody demon when we returned from Neverland."

Emma's expression shifted again.

Killian realized a moment too late that she'd only been sarcastic.

She stared at him with more than a little fear.

"How about you use your superpower on me, then?" said Killian. He watched surprise dawn in her eyes. "Yes, I know about that." Leveling his eyes on hers, he said slowly, "I am Hook, most feared pirate in all the realms. You and I traversed Neverland with your family to save your lad not one year ago." With each word, he searched for one of them to spark a crack in the spell, an attempt to bring forth her real memories. He held her gaze, and she held his. He saw the frustration in hers and he knew she detected no lie.

"Just because you believe something is true," she said slowly, "doesn't mean it is. Now, do I need to get a restraining order or are you going to leave me alone?"

The words restraining order were absolutely foreign, but it did not sound pleasant. "Emma," said Killian, desperation nearing panic fueling him.

If he didn't get her to take that potion, all was lost.

"Don't you dare follow me," she warned, turning to walk away, but Killian grabbed her wrist.

"Wait!" Using his teeth, he yanked off his leather glove, displaying his hook. "Is this proof enough for you?"

Emma's jaw dropped. "You carry around a hook? You're that delusional?"

Killian released her to jerk his sleeve up, revealing the brace, and the clear proof that he didn't have a left hand. "No, I don't. I need it. I am Hook, Emma. It's not just a story, it's my life!" When Emma just continued to stare at him with a wild look in her eye, Killian ran his hand through his hair. "How the bloody hell did the lad convince you in the first place?" he muttered.

Emma turned again to walk away, faster, but he quickly blocked her way again.

He held out the potion bottle. "Swan, please. Drink this, and you'll remember everything."

"Fine," she suddenly huffed, and Killian nearly collapsed with relief. He released her jacket and she took the bottle from his hand, then with a twitch of her brow, she threw it, shattering the glass and its contents on the trunk of a tree.

Killian stared in utter disbelief.

Watched the potion wisp away into nothing.

Dread, freezing cold dread trailed through him.

"No," he breathed. But Emma was turning to leave him and he reached for her. "Swan!"

But she suddenly schooled her face into a look of fear and shouted, "Help! Someone, help! He's attacking me!"

The corner of the park they were in was quickly no longer vacant, as more than one set of pounding footsteps came running toward them. "Help!" yelled Emma again, giving him a victorious smile.

Reluctantly, he backed away. With one last look toward the broken, useless potion bottle on the ground, Killian ran, half a dozen footsteps pounding after him.

Bloody hell, what was he supposed to do now?

a/n: I have no idea how Killian managed to find Emma's exact apartment in NYC, since they didn't say that Neal gave her a specific location to find her. So, I made do with what made sense to me. Next chapter will be up soon :)

~cosette141