Emma wasn't sure what to expect when reaching the spring's clearing. She could've stopped her sprint and summoned a bird, but there hadn't been any time. Whatever greeted her, she needed to be prepared. Despite her and Bae's running, too much time had gone by since the pigeon warned them. God, what if it was too late? What if Pan killed him? Or some lost boy? Or he stupidly fell into a Dreamshade bush? Or worse, was taken to Echo Cave because Pan was bored?

They reached the clearing, both coming to an abrupt stop. Emma saw Hook face-first on the ground, Starkey a feet away in the same position. Standing above Hook was Benjamin and another lost boy Emma knew to be named Tomas. Benjamin took a step back as Tomas plucked Hook's sword from the man's discarded sheath and wielded the blade towards the pirate's neck.

"No!" Bae screamed.

Emma ripped an arrow from her bow, took aim, and released. Tomas staggered and fell onto his back. Grey feathers of the shaft stuck out from the middle of the boy's chest. His body seemed to sink into the muddy earth like dead weight.

Benjamin gaped at his fellow lost one, his face pinching into a quivering frown as he aimed at her with a crossbow, but he too lurched to the ground, suffering the same fate as his fallen comrade.

Emma dropped her bow like it was on fire and covered her mouth, screaming, horrified by what she'd done. She fell to her knees and vomited. What the hell had she done? She killed two people. Two kids! They weren't like Pan. They weren't monsters. They were just lost. Like she was. She hadn't been thinking. She hadn't thought to aim superficially. All she knew was to save Hook

Her inner rant was cut short when being forced to stand and violently embraced by Bae. He forced her back to the scene, and she could feel the strong, wild beat of his heart against her ribcage.

"It's all right," he said unconvincingly.

"What have I done?" she whispered. She buried her face in his shoulder.

Bae pulled away. "I have to see to the captain, Emma."

She stood rigid as Bae treaded towards Hook. He bent down and carelessly rolled him over, roughly shaking him. "Captain, wake up," he said.

Hook stirred, eyes flying open. He slowly curled into a sitting position, cupping the back of his and swearing vehemently, "Bleedin' Christ! Bae?"

"What happened?" the boy asked, backing away towards Starkey's form.

Hook's features darkened, darkly-rimmed eyes slitting while his jaw clenched. "Leave him be. He's not waking up." He scanned his surroundings, instantly spotting the two dead boys not far from him. Emma saw him zero in on the arrows and felt the slicing cut of his horrified gaze when it landed on her. He scrambled to his feet with the help of Bae, and she folded her arms around her stomach and looked down.

"Emma, lass, what did you do?"

"What did you do?" asked Bae who was towering over Starkey, and Emma noticed a jagged, gory gash on one side of the man's neck when the boy flipped him over.

"I said leave him, Bae!"

"You killed him?"

"We need to go." Hook grabbed Bae's arm, but the boy stubbornly refused to budge. "Before Pan or Felix get here and extract their revenge."

Emma caught his stare, ice spreading throughout her body. God, he stared at her like she wasn't even human anymore. Like everything he claimed to care about concerning her was no longer relevant because it was gone. He stared upon her like every single foster parent had done in the past—like a troubled, depthless stranger.

Hook's words seemed to shake out Bae's tenacity for the time being, and the boy appeared to have entirely forgotten about Starkey in favor of Emma in the space of three seconds. He grabbed the handle of his cutlass and said, "You're right. Emma." He jogged over to her and tugged at her wrist. "We have to get back to the ship. Now."

She nodded, not saying a word as he pulled her out of the clearing and on to the pathway back to the beach. Hook followed close behind with her quiver and bow. She could sense his eyes on the back of her neck, but she dared not, wished not to see that soul-shattering look again.

In the thick, hazy fog of her guilt, selfishness sprung forth, and a part of her was affronted by his apparent shift towards her. How dare he judge her?! He was a pirate! How many lives had he taken in his bicentennial? How may lost ones truly lost themselves at the point and curve of the captain's hook?

Emma wanted to whip around yell at him. She hadn't wanted to kill those boys. Her body did it without permission like an evolutionary, innate reflex.

It was absurd and if there wasn't sick lodged in the back of her throat, she'd laugh or choke at what she was thinking. Emma reacted the way she did because her mate was threatened.

"I killed them because I love you, you hypocrite!" she wanted to scream at Hook. Her confession, even though to herself, did nothing but harden that icy buildup inside her gut and chest. What a horrible, terrible feeling. People actually liked this? People wanted this? Who would want this? So burdensome, her knees shook from the weight of all of it.

God, she couldn't wait to get out Neverland. When they left. When they all left and returned to her world, Emma was not going to go with Hook and Bae. She didn't want to be a family with them but wanted to be left alone and move on from this place. Bae may have held her tight after she succumbed to her animal, but Hook hadn't. She didn't want to be around a constant reminder of how she failed at love for the first time by fully embracing the Lost Girl.

When they pushed the cockboats onto the sea and rowed towards the Jolly Roger, Emma took a minimal amount of comfort in the fact that she was still young and had plenty of time to fall in love again. Hopefully next time it would be, not only more appropriate, but less everything else. Loving Hook-caring for him-was like being diagnosed with cancerous tumors and given months to live. The situation was far too dramatic and unrealistic for her. She needed to let herself bite the big one, dump the soap opera gig, and find herself a role in a new life meant for a normal teenage girl.


Their arrival without Starkey set the crew off in a buzz, every member bombarding Hook with questions and demanding an explanation. It didn't take long or very many sips of rum for him to drunkenly snap and hoist himself up on a crate and start shouting at the men.

"Listen up, you bilge-infected curs! I'll only say this once, and whoever dares to utter another inquiry will live long enough to see his entrails coiled around my hook! Starkey sought to remove me from my station, and I showed him what it means to betray Captain Hook! You lot best keep in mind that you display even the smallest amount of disloyalty to me, to this ship, I will deliver the same sentence and be sure you're still alive when I throw your twitching carcasses to the mermaids to feast upon your souls!"

Emma had never seen him like this. Sure, she'd seen him yell and bark orders at the crew, but she'd never witnessed such a threat and believed it. Pirate, indeed, she mused bitterly.

Standing at the top of the stairs, she discreetly crept down below deck one step at time and threw herself into her cabin and locking the door, yelping when seeing Bae at the desk. His head rested on his arm, and her satchel lay close to his elbow. Its opening was unraveled, and she could see the Shadow Trap inside.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said. "I don't want to be up there. It's…loud when he's like that."

Emma didn't want Bae to be there in her cabin. She wanted to be alone where she could replay her murders over and over again in her head without distraction, without someone telling her everything was going to be fine. Yet, honestly, that was what she really wanted but didn't deserve it.

"How can you stand to be near me after what I did?" she asked, resting her back against the door. "It wasn't an accident no matter how much I want to think it was."

"You're not a bad person, Emma. I know you did what you thought you had to, and you saved somebody as a result."

"A pirate." Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes as a way to hide behind how much she actually cared for said swashbuckler. "Yeah, I'm a goddamn hero, Baelfire."

"You are."

She chuckled, the mirthless emotion wracking her chest painfully. She shook her head and wiped at her cheeks. She was crying. He made her cry, the idiot, and decided it must've been a good time to stand up from the desk and finally face her. He walked over to her and hugged her, and it was nice. Emma found herself leaning more into him, and she sighed his name in exasperation when he rubbed her back.

"Hmm?"

She broke from his comforting hold and went to the bed and laid down. She patted the small but substantial space next to her, inviting him to join her. He appeared torn, both evidently frightened and eager. If the first won him over, she wouldn't fault him.

Not a few seconds later, he joined her and she rolled over onto her other side to face the wall. She was so tired but knew nightmares would plague her sleep. Nevertheless, her eyes fluttered shut, and she fell into an unrestful slumber. When she awoke to Bae rubbing her back again, she guessed her nap hadn't been long. He must've tried to soothe her when she started dreaming.

He was so good to her. She appreciated him, she really did. She only wished she could appreciate him the way he deserved. Her feelings for him were genuine. Kissing him was not a chore, and Emma wasn't so naïve to think a person could only romanticize one person at a time. She loved Hook and she liked Bae. It wasn't a crime. It was just complicated, and Emma was not handling it perfectly, but she could be doing a whole lot worse.

Bae's hand incidentally brushed the skin of her lower back between her trousers and where her tunic flipped up. When he tested the waters purposefully the next time, Emma bit her bottom lip and started loosening the laces of her vest.

Speaking of worse…

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied stupidly. Shit, what was she doing? "The vest. It's not comfortable to sleep in." Or to do anything in like breathing. "I'm just loosening it up a little. No big deal."

Ten minutes had to have gone by before Bae resumed in rubbing her back, this time safely below her shoulders. Another five before his fingers found the section of skin again and soon he was skimming an inch underneath the vest. Emma sort of smiled. It felt all right, but he really had no idea what he was doing.

Neither did she. She did know that she preferred to be rubbed higher. A lot higher. On the shoulder blades and the space in between.

Give it time, she mused. He would find his way there eventually. With any luck, before bedtime when Hook realized Bae was not in his bunk.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Emma shuddered when Bae started caressing her where she wanted. He then froze and asked, "Is this allowed?"

Confused by his question and aggravated he stopped, Emma craned her neck and shoved her face into her pillow for a two seconds and then replied, "Yes."

He started again, and she relaxed, exhaling in content. Twenty seconds later, his ministrations ceased again, and he asked, "Are you sure this isn't bad form?"

"Bae," she huffed and inelegantly rolled over to face him. She grabbed his right hand and put it on her left breast. Even though there was a sturdy leather vest and a tunic acting as a barricade, she blushed at her own boldness. "This is bad form."

In a blink, his cheeks went from pleasantly pink to full on scarlet. She moved her palm off his, wondering how long it would take him to move it.

Realizing he wasn't going to, Emma guided his hand again, this time between the vest and tunic. Her breath quickened and she relayed, "This is unacceptable. And this…" Both their hands delved underneath the last layer, and Bae said her name in protest. Unfazed, their journey never even touched her ribcage but circled her stomach and went up her spine to place between her shoulder blades. "This is fine."

Her actions had brought them closer in proximity, and she kissed him. They pressed themselves closer to each other to the point Emma found it all too tempting and natural to maneuver herself on top of him align herself comfortably over him. His hand was still up the back of her tunic, and he started his ministrations again along with opening his mouth further, and Emma took it as permission to repeat what she'd done earlier that morning.

Bad form, Emma contemplated and parted from him, only to rest her forehead against his. They stayed that way for a few minutes until she wondered if she was squishing him. She moved off him and closed her eyes and fell asleep, the lull deeper but not any less dreadful than the last. When she stirred awake, she instantly took note that Bae was still in bed with her and from the sounds of his even breath, out cold. She carefully turned away from her cuddling with the wall and looked at the window, a hint of morning lighting the cloudy, weeping sky. It must've rained all night, the cabin dank with the slightest nip in the humid air.

Emma was surprised to find Bae still in her quarters, assuming Hook would've sought him out to rest assure he was safely tucked away in his bunk after everything that happened the previous day.

She frowned, something about the door catching her attention. It was unlocked. She had latched it when she came storming in last evening. As far as she knew, Bae hadn't left her side all night or the room for that matter. Hook was the only one who had a key to the room. He must've paid a visit in the dead of night and not bothered or hadn't cared enough to call out the cabin boy on his bad form.

Emma quietly crept off the bed as to not disturb Bae and left the cabin. She was thirsty and probably wouldn't deny a slice of bread. The last thing she remembered putting anything into her body was Tinker Bell's tea.

McCormack wasn't anywhere to be seen in the kitchen but she found her tin mug and dipped into a barrel of water. Once her thirst was satiated, she rummaged through the cupboards and spotted Smee's private stash of bread and honey and shamelessly stole a thick, crusty morsel and drizzled zigzags over it with the golden-y syrup.

She heard someone pass through the swing door behind her. If it was Smee, she would childishly open her stuffed mouth and show him what she'd taken. If it was McCormack, she'd share. Unfortunately, though, it was neither.

"We need to talk," Hook said and she set down her half-eaten plate, swallowing.

"I don't want to," she replied firmly. "You can't make me."

He arched a brow at her, as if to say he very much could. "I'll not force you, but it would be good for you to talk to someone."

"To who? You?" Her voice rose sharply, and she became extremely aware of the muffled voices of some crew members out in the hallway. She snapped her mouth shut and shook her head.

"We can go somewhere more private. I know we both have words needing said," he whispered, his tone starkly different than how he spoke the night before when verbally fileting his crew.

"I already know what you have to say to me."

"Do you?"

She took her plate and went to pass by him when he looped his hook around her elbow and drew her close to him. His lips ghosted over her forehead, and he said, "I will escort you to my quarters. You don't want to speak, fine. I'll do all the talking."

"No," she said petulantly and followed him to his cabin anyway. He couldn't do this to her. She had written him off. How dare he be gentle and caring after his apparent retract of infatuation? If there was one thing Emma hated in a guy, it was mixed signals. They didn't know how to do it and keep girls interested, and she wasn't anymore.

All right, she still loved him but wasn't interested in keeping it a thing during the rest of her time in Neverland.

When Hook closed the door behind them, Emma realized she hadn't ever actually been inside the captain's quarters. It was twice, maybe two in-a-half, times the size of her room. In the middle of the room was a table covered in a map. The bright flames from the lanterns helped her make out the land markings on one. Her fingers skimmed the parchment and hovered over Misthaven. Beneath the title in smaller, loopy letters, the Enchanted Forest. Her pointer finger tapped on certain points of the land mass and she incredulously asked, "How many kingdoms are there here?"

"Enough for a pirate to keep coming back. Although," he came up beside her and tapped the name King George, "I do prefer the gold from this kingdom."

"From the look on your face, I'm assuming it's not because it's any more special than the others. Do you have words with the king, also?"

"I have words with many, Swan."

The names of the kingdoms meant nothing to her, but she did do a double take when reading Ogre Territory. She tossed a disbelieving stare at Hook. "Ogres. They're real?"

"Aye. Bloody disgusting creatures. A long time ago Misthaven's kingdoms kept restricting their land, and they rose up and stared a war. It was a retched time, children in the trenches and ultimately carted off the battlefield in pieces." Hook seemed far away at that moment, rubbing his lips and then chin. He cleared his throat and continued. "It ended."

"The Enchanted Forest won, I'm guessing."

"Neither side won. It just ended."

"Were you a part of it?" Was that why he was acting so weird? He was in the trenches?

"No. There was only talk of it when I was a lad and young man. It broke out not long after I pledged myself to the sea, ship, and riches of all and any kingdoms."

Emma backed away from the map, spotting a large shelf acting as a wall, compacted with books. "What a horrible place," she murmured and decided she'd rather browse through his selection of reading material. What did pirates like to read?

"About yesterday, Swan," Hook tried and she pulled a random book from the shelf, flipping it open and actually getting giddy from the musty smell and yellow tapering of the pages. Her teachers in school always got after her for not reading, but she did. She just never bothered with the textbooks. She liked novels of adventure, fantasy, mystery, and historical fiction. Not heavy paperweights with crude phrases such as 'suck my dick' and drawings of blood-dripping swastikas in the margins like her old biology book.

"What language is this in? Latin? You read Latin? Huh." She put the book back in favor of another and skimmed over the German-like scrawls. She flipped a few pages and stopped when seeing an inked sketch of a sword lodged deeply in the stone. She hastily flipped the page over and read a familiar word.

Camaalot.

"Cool," she said and wiggled the book at him. "Some of our legends are the same."

"The tales of Camelot are not legend. They're quite real."

"Maybe to you."

"I've been there."

Emma glanced at him and put the book away, smiling quizzically. "Where else have you been? Atlantis?" She took another book and saw pages upon pages of mathematics before Hook took it from her.

"I know what you're doing." He set the book aside.

"I don't want to talk."

"And I said I would. Let me."

"I'm not stopping you."

"You won't look at me."

"Is that a requirement?"

"I'd prefer you would at least try."

"Why? So you can look at me like every other person in the world that's met me?"

He cupped her face and forced her to look at him. "What way is that?"

She sighed and shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

His thumb caressed her jawline, and he said, "I killed Starkey."

"I'm sure every person in these realms you talk about know. You kind of screamed it last night." She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her.

"But you don't know why."

"He betrayed you. He wanted your ship. He wanted-"

"You."

"…what…?"

"Those boys. You killed them. Why?"

Too many thoughts were happening at once, and Emma couldn't cope. She shirked his hold and pressed her back against the bookshelf, eyeing the door of the cabin. He blocked her view and said, "Don't even try for it, lass. Answer me."

She covered her face. "I don't want to talk! Please let me go back to my cabin!"

"You mean back to Baelfire."

She scowled. "It's none of your business."

"Everything on the Roger is my business, Swan. Don't you forget that, and on the ship there is some level of propriety that will be respected."

"When it suits you," she fired back. "I shudder at imaging about many times you violated that code. No, you're jealous, and you have no right to be, Hook! We're not going to happen ever! If it makes you feel better, Bae and I won't either because he's too young! Even if we left Neverland, I would never go with either of you!"

Hook quieted her by slamming his palm and hook against the shelf on either side of her head. "Why did you kill those lads, Swan?"

She glared hatefully at him.

"Come on, lass. For someone who didn't want to talk, you sure as hell nearly deafened me with your spew."

"They were going to do the same to us," she hissed. "But there is no excuse for what I did."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Well, perhaps adding to the truth then."

"I'm not. Benjamin tried to shoot me with his crossbow, and I defended myself."

"And Tomas?"

"Tomas was an ass!"

"And, therefore, deserved such a brutal fate."

Exasperated, Emma let loose a sharp groan and covered her face again. "He was going to kill you! He took your sword and was going to kill you, but I killed him first! Benjamin was upset and tried to shoot me, and the rest you know!"

"You killed them to save me," he said.

"And me."

"Why?"

"Oh, my God! Whatever you had to say to me, do it now! I'm not talking anymore!"

"Why?" he repeated and she shook her head and darted under his arm, but he grabbed her and easily pinned her back to the bookshelf. "Why?"

"You're hurting me."

"Tell me, Swan, and I will let you leave!"

"There's nothing to tell, Hook! I was scared you were going to die, and I reacted! What do you want from me?!"

"The real reason why you-"

"Because I love you!"