Hook found Emma curled up on McCormack' cot in the kitchen, an empty bowl and mug on the floor beside her. McCormack sat on a rum barrel, his back against the wall, a half-empty mug clutched in his meaty fist. Both were asleep. Hook watched Emma's chest rise and fall with each shallow breath and then drifted his focus to her face. The shadow had mimicked every detail about her, down to each freckle, yet he still should've known. The way she threw herself at him. Emma was sixteen and a forced warrior, not a brazen bar wench or lady of the night looking for an extra coin.
He contemplated leaving her there in the kitchen, unable to be so near her after what happened in her cabin. Nevertheless, the cook's cot wasn't suitable for a young lady, so he bent down and gathered her into his arms, deciding he liked the way she felt in them. She mildly stirred and rested her head on his shoulder. He carried her out of the kitchen and to her room, laying her slack body on the bed. After shutting the window and latching it, he turned off the lamp and closed the door and considered locking it but chose not to. He didn't want to give her any reason to be upset with him nor provide any incentive for her to return to the island.
Once retiring to his own quarters, Hook uncapped a bottle of rum and rehashed what took place with Pan. The demon showed some of his cards, but Hook was buggered to know what it all meant. Emma was never supposed to come to Neverland, but it was destiny she did? Until his crew fished Bae out of the water, Hook didn't believe in destiny. He had been a superstitious bloke, but people made their own choices. Then Baelfire boarded his ship like a sopping wet package delivered from the gods. This was Hook's chance to become familiar with the Dark One's weaknesses and also have the last piece of Milah left in the world. He could have both. He would have both, and he did have both. Even when the lad wanted to leave and insulted him, Hook bit his tongue and summoned Starkey and Smee to barricade Bae in the kitchen for a few hours to calm down. For a year after that, the boy ran away multiple time to the island and each time, Hook went after him and dragged him back to the ship before the Lost Boys and Pan could get their grubby hands on him.
Hook loved Bae as stubborn and obtuse as the blighter was but knew Baelfire didn't reciprocate. As captain of the ship, Hook most likely earned the lad's respect after a century, but Baelfire still harbored resentment. Just five months ago, he had shouted, "None of us would be here if you had just left my mother alone!"
Bitterly chuckling at the memory, Hook took a swig of rum. As much as he loved Milah, he was certainly paying a heavy penance for whisking away a married woman from a coward and a son.
Whenever Hook imagined leaving the island, Baelfire was with him, but that was a fool's wish. Hook would take Pan's offer. The monster obviously had something up his sleeve, but it didn't seem to require killing Bae or Emma which was enough for Hook. In a week's time, he'd tell Pan to take them away from this stagnant hell where they could thrive and grow. Hook would see them again. Despite Pan's subtle hint of wanting him out of the way, Hook would find a way back to Bae and maybe Emma wouldn't be too far from him.
The next morning Bae's bunk was empty, striking panic in Hook and making his sluggish, hungover self become alert. He stormed into Emma's cabin to ensure she was there, only somewhat relieved to find her still in bed. However, the ruckus caused her to stir, and she groaned into her pillow.
"Go. Away."
He shook her arm and asked, "Do you know where Baelfire is?"
She slit one eye open and mumbled, "The island. He'll be back."
Kneeling beside her, he gently asked, "Emma, where does he go? What is he doing?"
"Tinker Bell, probably." She giggled sleepily and turned over to face the wall.
"This isn't a laughing matter. He could be in trouble."
Emma grunted and sat up, scowling at him with her cheeks flushed pink from sleep and her wild, blonde hair sticking up and out in every direction. Hook was reminded how young she really was and felt disgusted with himself on what he wanted to do with her the night before. It didn't help matters when she jammed her balled up fist into her eye and rubbed while yawning softly like an infant.
"Bae has talked to you more these past two weeks than to me in a hundred years. I don't know what he's told you about me, but I do care for him. If he's doing something dangerous, you need to tell me."
Emma sighed and then wrinkled her brow, confused. "This isn't where I fell asleep."
"Emma."
"Ugh! Fine. Yes. It's about that stupid colander, coconut thing he totes around. At first, he told me he was going to make some ghetto projection of the night sky with it. Cute, I know. But then he told me he was going to do something else with it, too."
"What?"
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. "He wouldn't tell me."
"Don't lie to me, Swan."
The girl raised a brow at the use of her surname. "I'm not." She swung her feet off the mattress and then stared at the desk, picking up a piece of parchment. "Someone's been chicken scratching in my room."
Hook yanked the page from her. "I sent Baelfire in to practice his writing while you were in the kitchen last night."
"He's needs to practice more," she said and started playing with the strings of her trousers. "I'm guessing it's almost bath time."
Hook swallowed, remembering what Pan's shadow told him the night before. "How is your shoulder?"
"The pain isn't as sharp, but there's a definite ache."
"Emma…" he began, yet the words wouldn't come out. He felt he should tell her about the shadow's ability to morph into a perverse mimicry of a person, but found himself incapable of speaking.
"Hook."
"Captain, if nothing else," he managed, sighing.
"Killian?" she tried, laughing. "You told me to call you that at first."
"Aye, I did."
"I'm not going to. No one else calls you by your name. It would be weird if I did and…"
"And?"
"I don't know." She chuckled nervously. "Isn't there etiquette? Even on a pirate ship?"
"Indeed. It would be bad form and give the crew false impressions about or alliance."
"Alliance?" She looked down at her feet. "Oh."
Hook felt her ever increasing uneasiness radiating off her. "Is there something bothering you?"
She shook her head, tugging at the collar of her tunic. "I'm…gross. The humidity yesterday, and it's worse today. I just want a bath."
Emma watched him leave to fetch the copper tub, anxiety twisting at her stomach. She wished these pesky inclinations would go away because that's what they were. Inclinations. These inconvenient "sort of" feelings simmering deep below the surface, tying knots in her chest and making her heart speed up. She mostly associated the reaction happening because of Hook's handsomeness. She wasn't blind. He was just older and a pirate. Intimidating was another word to describe him.
Emma wouldn't even call what she felt towards Hook a school-girl crush. It was a fascination. For two weeks, she'd been on board and hardly knew a thing about him. He was unapproachable and calling him Captain Jones or Killian wasn't going to fix that. Even when he showed her tenderness by washing her arm and back, she didn't have the guts to spout a single inquiry. He had asked her some, making somewhat polite conversation, and she answered vaguely. Her story was not interesting. It was pitiful. The last thing she needed was another adult pitying her. Bae didn't pity her. Bae understood her, so she replied to Hook's questions with one-dimensional answers.
If Emma asked about anything, would Hook give her flat answers? She could try. In his time as a pirate travelling realms—God, she couldn't even think it without snorting—what had he seen? What was in this Enchanted Forest he kind of talked about?
Hook returned with McCormack, the large man toting in the filled copper tub. He set it down and smiled toothlessly at Emma. "Milady," he said.
"Thank you."
Once McCormack left, Hook closed the door and removed his leather cloak before rolling up his sleeves and removing the hook from his brace while Emma tugged on the strings of her trousers. They slid down her legs and she kicked them off. She bent over and put them on the bed, doing the same with her vest. Hook then came towards her and helped her out of her sling and tunic, and she cradled her lame arm to her chest, taking his offered hand to get into the tub.
Hook settled into his ritual, pulling up a chair and some soap. Emma extended her arm and frowned when noticing how soft her muscles had become as he kneaded the soap into her skin.
"Too rough?"
"I'm getting squishy."
"Squishy?"
"I'm weak," she elaborated.
"You are many things, Swan, but weak isn't one of them," he said and Emma bit her lip, her stomach doing that awful knot-thing again.
"You know what I mean."
"You'll heal and when you do, you can build yourself again."
Hook moved the bar of soap to her shoulder and Emma asked, "What have you seen?"
"You're going to have to be more specific, Emma. If you're talking about here…" His smirk faded. "Forgive me."
Emma scowled at him, a flush heating her cheeks, and the idea of asking him about all the incredible things he may have seen in his lifetime got pushed aside. Instead, she thought of what Bae said the yesterday. The captain and Starkey were going to make trade with the Piccaninny tribe today.
"I want to go with you to the reservation," she said.
"If you're looking for sanctuary elsewhere, Miss Swan."
"They won't take me, I know. I want to trade with them." She paused when his scrubbing harshened. "Hey! Watch it!"
"Sorry, lass, and no. You're going to stay on the ship. Besides, what have you to trade?"
Emma stuck her chin out stubbornly, resisting the urge to shiver as Hook soothed her abused flesh by thumbing semi-ticklish circles on her soapy skin. "I can get pearls. They love them. Tiger Lily, especially."
"And how have you bloody managed to get your little hands on pearls. My crew has dried out the coast. There isn't a single oyster left."
"You know, captain, there are ways to make pearls."
He looked upon her as if impressed that she knew such a thing and smiled. "Aye, there is, but I'd rather not subject my crew to mermaids. Tell, me, Swan. Do you make them?"
"No. I haven't been here long enough, and I'd need oysters. There aren't a lot on the coasts of the island, like you said."
Finished with her arm, Hook travelled the bar of soap to her shoulder and then her back. "Then how do you procure them?"
Emma grinned wickedly. "I have my ways. Anyway, doesn't matter what you say. I'm going with you."
"You aren't."
"I am."
"I will lock you in this cabin. Take your clothes for good measure."
The grin on Emma's face melted away, morphing quickly into a thin, bemused line. With a flick of her good arm, she splattered water over the rim of the copper basin and onto Hook, drenching his face and vest.
"Do it and see what happens," she challenged.
"Blasted harpy!" He smeared a hand down his wet face.
"A little water is going to be the least of your problems if you keep me locked up."
Hook glared at her, putting aside to return the sentiment she bestowed upon him. Emma scrunched her face, chuckling again. "That's the best you can do? I'm already wet. You on the other hand..."
With a large hand, he grabbed her at the wrists and held tightly. He was no longer in his seat now but kneeling beside the tub. "I think I'll throw you out with the bathwater."
Emma slit her eyes and leaned closer, her chin nearly resting on the tub's rim. "You're all bark, Captain Hook, but you have no teeth. I'm going to the reservation."
The tip of his nose nearly brushed hers when he said, "It'll be a quick visit. You'll only slow us down."
"You'll get over it."
He clenched his teeth and without thinking, cradled the back of her slightly damp head and kissed her.
Emma did not go to the tribe with Hook and stayed secluded in her cabin, either laying in bed or pacing the small cramped space.
He kissed her!
Emma leapt from the bed and began to pace again, remembering how she froze the moment his mouth touched hers and his tongue traced her bottom lip. She pinched the flesh and recalled how Hook backed away from her as if painfully burned. His eyes had been wide, belaying the horrifying realization at what he'd done. He apologized and begged her forgiveness but understood if she declined.
Words had evaded Emma, and her mind moved fast and stickily slow all at once. All she could do was avoid his face and stare at her wet knees and shake as she curled her good arm over her injured one, hugging herself. She felt she should cry, lash out at him and call him all the profane names society taught her concerning grown men who kissed little girls.
No tears came, and she was not angry or frightened of him like she should be.
Emma was more frightened of herself. Neither had she encouraged the kiss or responded to it, but the sensation she experienced when Hook kissed her had stupefied her. Butterflies. Electricity. Pheromones. Definitely hormones. All of them punched her in the chest and shot up towards her brain, clouding her judgment and making that lukewarm fascination she held for Hook amplify into something wrong and forbidden.
When she failed to respond to his apologies, Hook asked if she wanted to finish up her wash and dress herself. Emma had nodded, and he left. She stayed in the tub until the water ran cold and then painfully maneuvered herself out of it. It took her ten minutes to get fully clothed and putting the sling in place. An hour later, she had seen from the window Hook and Starkey rowing their way to the island. After what happened, it was for the best she didn't go with them.
Why had he kissed her?
Emma sat back down on the mattress. She both wanted and dreaded the answer to that question. A part of her wanted the reasoning to be Hook's loneliness. A realm full of men and boys and a fickle fairy certainly didn't give Hook a lot of options in the romance department. Another part of her, equal in size, wanted him to actually like her. Being rejected for most of her life for whatever reason, it was nice to be liked, especially by an adult. A handsome adult.
Her growing feelings for the captain were not healthy, and she knew that. As a foster child and knowing other foster children, the situation regarding an inappropriate relationship between child and foster guardian was unique but not unheard of. Emma always believed herself to be above such idiocy.
Emma didn't see Hook as a foster dad or any kind of father figure to her, but he cared enough to carry her back to his ship, gave her a room separate from his crew, and catered to her so she'd heal properly. The generosity he'd given was more than she deserved and because he kissed her, he also gave her a different kind of intimacy she didn't know she wanted.
She shook her head and started to pace the room once more. It didn't matter why Hook kissed her. He shouldn't have, and she was going to put these reckless, misguided feelings for him behind her.
There was a knock on her door, and her heart plummeted into her gut. Oh, God. Hook was back already, and he probably wanted to talk about what happened.
"Emma, it's me."
"Bae!" She wrenched open the door and cupped his cheek, smiling at him before bending down slightly to kiss him. Three seconds later, she realized her kissing Baelfire this way was not unlike what Hook did to her. When the boy knocked on her door, her only thought had been to forget Hook's transgression and kissing Bae seemed like an all right way to do just that.
Emma pulled away with a wince and dropped her hand. "I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me."
Baelfire stood there dumfounded and his coconut fell from his hands and tumbled to the ground, the halves separating rolling away from the two in different directions.
"Bae?"
"Hm? Oh." He shook his head and touched his lips. "It's all right, Emma. It's perfectly fine. May…I ask why you…" His voice trailed off, and he blushed deeply.
Emma certainly couldn't tell him the truth of what had been going through her mind. She could, however, say another truth that would answer the implied question and definitely not hurt his feelings.
"I wanted to, I guess." Truthfully, it was something she had considered in her two week stay on the ship. Baelfire was younger than her usual prospects, but he was sweet and smart and funny. He was the only boy in Neverland who hadn't tried to kill her. He, in fact, saved her life. Giving him a kiss was the least she could do.
She could see him swallow, and he lunged towards the floor to gather up his project, his hands shaking when trying to fit the coconut halves together. When he succeeded, he stuttered, "I-I-If you want to do it again, I'll be fine with that."
Emma chuckled and gifted him a lingering kiss on his cheek. She then pulled away and asked in a serious tone, "What are you doing with the coconut? Have you figured it out, yet?"
"I think so. Tink told me something. I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before."
"What?"
"Trapping Pan's shadow. If I can do that, Emma, we can escape Neverland."
