"Emma!" David's head whipped around at a brief flurry of motion opposite the ship from them, hands loosening slightly. Hook pried the prince's fingers from where they had been clenched around his throat, gasping in a ragged breath as he looked around, his attention split between maintaining his defensive posture and following David's gaze.
The lashing rain was blinding, the familiar features of the Jolly Roger swallowed by darkness, save for the flashes of lightning that illuminated the deck for seconds at a time. Hook blinked, still struggling to catch his breath while he tried to clear his vision, losing it again in a sharp exhale as he finally got a clear look at the scene before him.
The princess and the Evil Queen were still struggling with each other, temporarily oblivious, but Hook ignored them, looking instead at the remaining member of the crew. Emma stood on the side of the Jolly Roger, face turned out across the lagoon. As he watched, still trapped between the prince and the edge of the ship cutting into his back, she leaped overboard, diving into the churning waters. Immediately, the hands pinning him to the side of the ship disappeared. The prince ran to the edge without looking back, searching the lagoon, and Hook hastened over just behind, aware that the other two women joined them as well. A brief flash of lightning split the sky, joining with a snap of rope from the heavens as a pulley detached from the rigging, following her down.
Hook searched the water beneath the ship, only vaguely processing the bickering women beside him as he looked for any sign of life. The Neverland lagoon was exceptionally dangerous at the best of times, but with the combination of mermaids and the mysterious storm, it was downright lethal. His attention was yanked away from his hunt through the waves by the prince pulling himself up onto the ship's edge, standing in the spot Emma had just occupied and preparing to leap.
"Wait!" Hook reached out, trying to stop the man. Even as he formulated a plan, he couldn't help the thoughts rolling through his head: Bloody hell, the man was going to get himself killed.
"She'll drown!" The prince shot back his answer quickly, anger and panic mingling in his eyes.
"And so will you… Let me help." Hook turned, walking over to one side of the ship and pulling out a coil of rope from where it lay. "Here, tie him." He tossed the rope over to the others, securing it to the Jolly Roger as the others fastened it to David. The man dove, and Hook craned his neck from where he stood, hoping (and failing) to catch sight of either swimmer.
The seconds ticked by, taking far too long. His heart raced, adrenaline he hadn't felt in years clearing his mind even as his heart pounded in his ears, joining with the cacophony of sound produced by the damnation of a storm in a mess of sound. He still felt breathless from fighting David, a feeling only worsened by the panic coursing through his veins, which he steadfastly ignored. It didn't mean anything; he was just concerned for Emma and her kidnapped son… That was all. He shook the thoughts from his head, blinking away the rain as he returned to scanning the water.
Two figures broke the surface of the water and he allowed himself a brief sigh of relief before starting to take action. "He has her! Pull!" Still moving quickly, he secured the rope to another pulley from the rigging. "I've got it." He reached up, wrapping his hand around the rope and securing it with his hook. As he hauled on the rope, he found himself willing his actions faster, pulling the sodden figures on board in record time.
A hand wrapped itself around the side of the boat as David lifted Emma over the edge, laying her gently against the wood. Hook looked over at her from where he stood, (now, both literally and figuratively) on the outskirts. The sight struck him as all too familiar, a punch to the gut that once more stole his breath away, his barely restrained panic finally flooding him completely. Emma lay still in her parents' arms on the deck, grey shirt sopping wet, dripping onto the floor.
As he watched, he couldn't help but feel as though he'd been there before. An image flashed across his vision and he staggered slightly, struggling to regain his balance on the still-rocking ship as a memory from days long past overtook him. A bright summer's day on board the same ship, another woman - darker hair, bluer eyes, but the same tough, rebellious spirit - lying in the exact same spot, dying in the arms of those who cared about her. Hook shook his head. Emma wasn't Milah, after all. She was a princess, a woman seeking her son and nothing else. Someone who meant nothing to him other than a noble cause and a way to get revenge. Not a friend, and definitely nothing more. He leaned closer, shaking the last vestiges of the vision from his eyes as he focused on the here and now.
She lay still for another second before she tensed, coughing up a lungful of water as she returned to consciousness. She gasped, taking in ragged breaths as she fought to sit up and clear her lungs. Hook breathed out a sigh of relief before turning away from the scene and walking back to the helm, his hand shaking as the tension drained away.
He couldn't avoid heaving in a few deep breaths as he walked over, calming himself as he took the helm. Despite a worsening sore throat, his breath finally returned in full force and his hand had calmed down slightly, barely shaking at all. Snow White and the prince were still seated with their daughter, helping her recover, and he couldn't help but monitor the process as he righted the ship's course. The storm had died down quickly, so it was much easier to steer than it had been, giving him plenty of time to observe the tableaux before him. He didn't delude himself into thinking that he was welcome there, but there was no harm in looking, right?
Hook finally looked away once Emma was back on her feet, focusing on the task in front of him to distract himself. After all, her boy was missing and she was focused on that. She'd made it clear that he was merely a guide, a pirate they couldn't trust with whom they had to work. She wouldn't want to hear what he had to say, and he certainly wasn't going to force her to. With one final glance over at her - she was still coughing and shaking slightly, even as she stayed alone on one side of the ship - he turned back to his work.