Two hundred years.

In all the two hundred years he'd been trapped on this godforsaken island, he'd managed to avoid Dreamshade poisoning, only to finally suffer the fate within two days of returning.

Hook dropped tiredly against the trunk of a tree a few dozen paces away from the camp. They'd spent the day looking for Tink, who'd only agreed to help them if and when they found a way off the island. They'd go looking for Bae's old 'home' after the lot of them got some rest.

Hook let his head rest against the bark, shutting his eyes with a weary sigh. The day of walking that had never once gotten him out of breath had nearly depleted all of his energy. Climbing into Tink's treehouse had been a feat in and of itself. By the time they settled to make camp, a thin layer of sweat made the twisted humidity of the island nearly unbearable.

Opening his eyes, Hook hesitated for a moment, not wanting to look at it, not wanting to see the timeline of what was left of his life.

But with a sharp intake of breath, he jerked up his shirt again, forcing himself to look down.

His heart stilled.

The black tendrils had spread far already, crawling across his torso, toward his heart. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his hand shook.

Days.

Weeks, at most.

But the truth of it was clear.

He was going to die.

It was just a matter of time.

And very little of it.

He dropped his shirt, shutting his eyes.

It felt like a cruel, horrible trick of fate.

The moment he finally gave up his revenge, the moment he finally decided to lay bloodthirsty Hook to rest, the moment he found something worth living for…

Something burned behind his eyes.

He suddenly thought of Liam.

Liam, who had died just as Hook will in a few days.

The poison had taken him in the very moment Liam had chosen to be a hero.

Hook's eyes opened.

Maybe that was just their legacy, then.

Their good will live on without them.

Hook sighed.

He could hear Emma's voice from where he was, talking with her parents.

That burning behind his eyes returned.

Bloody hell, he wanted to live on.

Taking a shuddering breath, Hook forced himself back to his feet, catching himself on a branch when his sense of gravity tilted with exhaustion.

He opened his eyes, lifting his head to look in the distance where he knew it was.

Dead Man's Peak.

The water would save him.

But Hook knew it was a trip he would not be able to make alone. Not with one hand and dwindling strength.

And to live on, watching Emma and her family leave?

To be condemned to the island for hundreds of years more?

It wasn't living.

Watching Emma leave him would kill him in ways even Dreamshade never could.

If he couldn't be saved, he was at least going to do whatever he could to ensure that Emma and her family were.

He didn't need them wasting time trying to save him, not when they had such little chance against Pan as it was. Not that they would want to, anyway.

For once in his life, he needed to be selfless.

So, it was a secret that would die with him.

He just wished such a thing wouldn't come so soon.

The next afternoon, Hook blinked slow, trying to fight the growing weakness as they rifled through Baelfire's Neverland home. He attempted to shake the blur at the edges of his vision; there were perhaps maps here that only he could decipher for them. He needed to be strong.

He needed to live.

Just until they could find a way off the island.

And Hook tried to ignore the pang in his chest at the prospect of not being able to join them.

"He stopped counting."

Hook blinked, tuning back into Emma's voice, where she was, reading the tally marks on the wall.

"Because he got off the island," murmured the Queen, a soft smile on her face that Hook knew was misplaced.

However, Emma corrected her. "He was here longer. He stopped counting because he lost hope." Something sad descended in Emma's eyes then, a pain that Hook recognized from every Lost Boy, and his own reflection. "It's what I did, every time I left a new foster home. Counted days until counting seemed pointless."

Hook felt a muscle tick in his jaw.

If those words didn't describe his life at the moment.

Almost as if to emphasize his ticking clock, he felt his sense of gravity shift, and he was only lucky the wall was near enough to keep him upright.

Bloody hell, he's getting worse.

He kept his eyes shut, trying to ground himself.

He heard shuffling, and opened his eyes to see the group leaving the cave.

He might not get another chance.

Swallowing, Hook took an unsteady step, managing to keep himself upright. He quickly moved into Emma's way. "Swan," he breathed.

"What?" she asked, her eyes darting over his shoulder and back. "We're wasting time."

She was even more terrified for her boy now, he could see it bright in her gaze. He was the last thing on her mind. However...

He swallowed.

He's had two people—the two most important people in his life, prior to Emma—die in his arms. No last words. No final sentiment.

He couldn't leave her without telling her something.

She was staring at him expectantly, impatiently.

Bloody hell, there was only one thing he wanted to say.

"I, ah…" His voice caught.

He's never, not once, been speechless around her before.

But, damn it, he's trying to say goodbye and he doesn't bloody know how.

Shutting his eyes, he went on, "I just wanted to say… that I, too, know what it feels like." He swallowed, practically feeling the poison spread further across his torso. "To lose hope," he whispered, because damn it, he already has.

Summoning up the courage, he shut his eyes, opening his mouth to say it, to finally tell her—

"Look," Emma cut in. "I know what this is."

He froze.

"This," she said, irritation coloring her eyes. "You. Trying to… bond with me."

The burning behind his eyes returned.

"So save your breath," she said. "I'm not in the mood."

She walked around him, and Hook shut his eyes.

Something hot fell, trailing down his cheek, as it was now two secrets that would die with him.

David glared at Hook as he dropped an armful of vine, where Emma and Snow were busy tying them together to make rope.

Hook, who had slunk off while everyone else set up camp, and came back unsteady and looking nearly out of it. Clearly helping himself to some refreshments. The amount of times he'd disappeared made David wonder how the man was still capable of walking.

And now, had dropped himself down on a log, his eyes drilling a hole in the back of Emma's head.

David felt familiar anger course through him regarding the pirate, since he was the damn reason they were stuck here, and Henry was in danger.

He was walking around like he was a gift to them, being so generous to offer his "help", though to David, Hook's "help" was nothing more than an attempt at redemption for the pain he's already caused them.

And the fact that Hook seemed to have his eyes set on his daughter wasn't helping things.

At all.

The idea of Hook getting anywhere near his daughter…

"We need more vine," said Snow to David, pulling him from his thoughts.

Nodding, David moved to walk back through the trees. "Hook." growled David as he passed. "You're coming with me."

Hook slowly shifted his gaze from Emma to him, like it took effort. "And why's that?" he muttered.

"Because we need more rope," repeated Emma toward Hook, brow hitched up.

David's glare was still pinned on the pirate, who turned to look at Emma, something exhausted slipping into his eyes. But he sighed, giving her a smile that David wanted to punch off, and said, "As the lady insists."

The smile fell as he moved to stand, again unsteady, looking more than reluctant to follow.

David headed into the trees, feeling the pirate lurk behind.

Once they were out of earshot from the girls, he heard Hook mutter, "What would you like to yell at me about now, Dave?"

David pulled a vine from a tree, not bothering to turn toward Hook to say, "Stay away from my daughter."

A slight, tired-sounding scoff. "She can take care of herself," muttered Hook. "She doesn't need your parenting."

David felt himself seethe. The words had meant to irritate him, and succeeded.

"You're not gonna get her," said David firmly.

A slight hesitation came from behind him, then, surprisingly quiet, Hook said, "I know."

It made David pause halfway to reaching for another vine, because he's never once heard Hook concede an argument.

The bastard was probably playing an angle, and David grabbed a vine with more force than necessary, saying, "Because I'm not going to let you."

"Yes," came Hook's sarcastic mutter. "That's why."

David felt his brow twitch, his patience reaching its end.

And then…

David turned around, and threw his fist into Hook's jaw.

Hook hadn't expected it, and to David's surprise, Hook's eyes had been shut, and he'd been leaning his arm against the trunk of a tree as if for balance.

Hook didn't roll with the punch.

He collapsed.

The pirate hit the dirt hard on his back, groaning from the impact.

David blinked for a second; stunned.

Damn, he really is drunk.

David sighed, really not wanting to explain this to Snow.

"Hook." said David flatly, walking toward him.

But Hook's eyes were screwed shut, and his breath hitched.

David felt something unsure shift in his chest. "...Hook?"

But Hook made no move to get up, and something felt wrong.

Bending down, David shook his shoulder. "Hook," he said firmly. "I didn't hit you that hard," he found himself voicing.

Hook managed to blink his eyes back open. "Bl–bloody," he breathed, breath hitching again.

Something wasn't right.

"Hook," said David slowly. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hook managed to open his eyes again, looking like he was actively trying to control his breathing. "J-Just a bit in…inebriated," he managed.

But it was only now that David could see the sheen layer of sweat on his forehead, and through the touch of his hand on the pirate's shoulder, that Hook was shaking.

David's eyes landed on Hook's hand, grasping at his chest, knuckles white, like he was trying to manage—

And suddenly David was flashing back to the past few days.

Hook's unsteadiness, that only seemed to have gotten worse. Everything that David had chalked up to rum, that only now he could see clearly wasn't.

"Damn it," cursed David, anger from before fading away. "You're not drunk—or, not any more so than usual," he muttered. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

When Hook didn't respond, and David realized that he couldn't, he grabbed Hook under his arms, dragging him up and leaning him against the trunk of a tree. Hook's face screwed up when he did, a horrible groan torn from his throat, the knuckles on his hand only growing whiter and his breathing harsher.

"Hook!" snapped David, shaking him a little, making Hook's eyes open. "What's wrong with you?"

Hook held his gaze a little, the pirate's eyes looking glazed over with pain or tiredness or both. He swallowed, but seemed to realize that David wasn't going to let it go. With a weary sigh, he let go of his own vest, to reach down, his fingers shaking, to grab the bottom of his shirt. A muscle ticking in the man's jaw, he lifted his shirt.

David froze.

What looked like black spiderwebs had crawled across Hook's torso.

"What the hell is that?" he breathed.

Hook dropped his shirt, his hand falling to his side. "Dreamshade," he whispered.

David's eyes met Hook's. "Wait… you mean—"

"—the incurable poison native to the island?" Hook smiled, but it held no warmth. "Aye."

"When—?" began David, his mind racing through the past two days, trying to pinpoint when—

His eyes snapped back up to Hook.

"The arrow—" breathed David. Meeting the pirate's eyes, there was a sad sort of defeat in Hook's gaze that confirmed it. "The arrow that almost hit Emma?" whispered David in shock.

"Wasn't fast enough," said Hook hollowly, shutting his eyes.

A moment of tense silence.

Then—

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?!" demanded David.

"No point." replied Hook softly, opening his eyes.

"But…" He shook his head, shock flooding him. "What, were you just going to drop dead with no explanation?"

"That was the plan."

David looked back toward Hook's chest, then back to his eyes. "How long?" he asked.

Hook managed a weak shrug. "Hours," he whispered. "Might manage to make it through the night."

David felt something tighten his chest.

Hook was dying.

Dying.

As the silence spread, Hook took a breath. "I can… I can tell you everything I know," he said with effort, like talking alone hurt. "About the island, about Pan and the Boys."

David's brows kneaded.

He looked at Hook.

All day long, Hook had pointed out plants to avoid, mapped out parts of the island, and spent every waking moment of their trek spouting off information about the island and Pan himself. David had tried his best to tune the bastard out.

"That's why you wouldn't shut up about Neverland trivia all day?" breathed David incredulously.

Hook didn't say anything.

He wasn't just being an annoying ass who liked the sound of his own voice.

He did know he wouldn't get Emma.

Hook was dying, and he spent every waking moment trying to help them anyway.

David looked at Hook, feeling something indescribable in his chest.

Then, David suddenly found himself asking, "There's really nothing that can save you?"

But at that, Hook hesitated, a muscle ticking again in his jaw.

"There is," said David, brows lifting.

"No," said Hook, shutting his eyes.

"What is it?" demanded David.

"There's no way," repeated Hook, opening his eyes, attempting a weak glare.

There was.

But David felt himself pause with puzzlement; why would that be something Hook would keep to himself?

"Just tell me," said David firmly.

Hook sighed shortly, then reluctantly said, "There's a place in Neverland… Dead Man's Peak," he said. "The spring there… Its water has the properties to heal any ailment. I once used it to heal my br—" Hook stumbled over the word, making David's brow shift, and Hook instead said, "one of my crew from Dreamshade."

David moved to stand. "Then let's—"

Hook was already shaking his head. "Since its power comes from the island, it only works in Neverland." Meeting his eyes, he said, "If I were to leave Neverland, I'd die." And before David could suggest it— "And I've spent more years than I've cared to on this bloody island; I'll not spend more."

David hesitated.

With a heavy breath, Hook said, his voice weary, "Don't waste your time on me, mate. Find your grandson. Get Emma off this island."

David sank back to his knee, his mind whirring for a solution.

Not a few minutes ago he'd have been happy to see Hook go—at David's own sword, for that matter, after one too many looks toward Emma. But for some reason, seeing it in front of him…

"Look, there's got to be something we can do," said David. "At least we can buy you some time." Looking at the pirate, who was giving him an increasingly incredulous look, David said, "We're going to take down Pan; I'm sure we can find a way for you to leave the island and stay alive."

"Mate—" began Hook, looking utterly stunned.

"Unless you've forgotten, we're hero types, there's always ho—"

"Why do you care?"

David froze at Hook's quiet interruption.

Hook was staring at him, a sort of innocent confusion in his eyes.

It was such a normal expression that Hook was almost unrecognizable.

David shook himself. "What do you mean?"

"Why bother with me?" asked Hook, the question spoken quietly.

Honestly, David wasn't entirely sure himself.

Hook had done plenty of bad in his life; if this was his fate, he definitely deserved it.

But Hook also didn't have to take that arrow for Emma.

All this time, knowing Hook's reputation with women, David hadn't wanted him making Emma another notch on his belt.

But to risk—to sacrifice his life for her?

That didn't exactly sound like a pirate after a good time.

That sounded…

Noble.

David hesitated a moment, trying to find something to say. With half a sly grin, he said, "Well, we need someone to captain the ship home."

"I'll talk you through it."

David paused again, giving Hook a look.

There was no ulterior motive in Hook's eyes.

There was only defeat, and a sadness that David had never noticed before.

David sighed. "How far is this dead guy mountain?"

Hook lifted his head, brows creased in confusion. "Dave—"

"How far?" repeated David, firmer.

Hook sighed shortly. "A few hours' trek from here."

David offered a hand to Hook. "Come on. Let's go."

Hook just stared at his hand, then him. "What?" he whispered, and suddenly his voice was devoid of any cunning, any arrogance. He again looked so normal it made David hesitate.

"Look," said David, sighing. "Like I said. We're heroes. We save dying people, and right now that's you."

"Dave—"

"Hook." said David, firmer. "If it wasn't for you, it would be Emma dying right now." Sighing sharply, he said, "Not that I don't still blame you for taking the bean in the first place and giving Greg and Tamara a chance to take Henry—"

Hook winced, and for the first time, David saw regret flit through his eyes.

Or, perhaps it was the first time David has actually bothered to see it.

"You saved Emma's life," said David heavily, "and for that I owe you."

Hook shut his eyes. "Mate—"

"Not to mention the fact that we hero types," David went on, "save everyone. I sure as hell don't like Rumplestiltskin and I'm not exactly a fan of Regina's… but we saved both their lives because it was the right thing to do." He gestured with his hand again for Hook to take it. "Never thought I'd say it, but I actually consider you the lesser of three evils."

"I don't—"

"Emma and the others are working on getting a message to Henry, and we aren't traveling any further until tomorrow." said David with exasperation. "You want to keep wasting time or do you want to live to see morning?"

Hook hesitated.

David watched a battle of emotions rage in the pirate's eyes, from confusion to shock to something that looked like hope.

Then, Hook took David's hand.

And for some reason, it made David grin.

a/n: there will be some CS fluff at the end of this, don't worry ;)