A ray of brightness spilling through the gap below the blinds fell onto Emma's face. Her brow pinched in annoyance, and her eyes slit open. She found herself facedown on the master bed in the cabin August broke into when they arrived to Storyrbooke. After he told her an outrageous tale of Snow White, the Evil Queen, curses, and a savior; she yelled at him solidly for ten minutes before stalking away from the hallowed tree he showed her and out of the shrubberies where she supposedly arrived twenty-eight years earlier. She had gone back to her car, fully intending to drive back to Boston but didn't have her keys and the doors were locked. August had limped behind her and told her they were almost there, and it would be ridiculous to turn back now.

Ridiculous? The guy had a wooden peg growing out of his thigh, and he apparently came to this world via a magical wardrobe.

It had been three o' clock in the morning, and she was exhausted. There was no way she could get back to Boston in one piece, so she agreed to at least visit this place called Storybrooke and would leave once she had the rest needed to return. When they got back into the car, she fell asleep almost immediately. Sleeping for twenty minutes before August woke her up, and they were surrounding by trees again, but there was a cabin in front of them. She had hoped for a motel and voiced her disapproval when he picked the lock to the front door. He told her that, yes, there was an owner but no tenants. No one would bother them, and they needed to stay out of sight for as long as possible. The Evil Queen, also known as Madam Mayor Regina Mills, had eyes and ears almost everywhere in town and a sure way to get noticed was to rent a room at the main B&B on Main street.

Irritated but mostly tired, she chose not to start another fight about his hoax of story and gravitated towards a mattress. The cabin was furnished yet cold and dusty. It had two bedrooms, and the first one she found was the master's. She'd promptly fell onto the bed and curled up into a ball to ward off the chill, drifting off in minutes.

The cabin was no longer freezing, and Emma's eyes fell to the electric heater plugged in right beside the bed. August must've came in and set it up while she'd been asleep. He also must've draped a blanket over her, as well. She shifted the material away from her face and moved into a sitting position, squinting at the window and trying to decipher how late in the day it was without opening the blinds and letting in the harsh lights her eyes weren't quite ready to endure. The birds outside were chirping and tweeting loudly, so it could possibly still be morning.

The scent of coffee and pancakes wafted through the air, and she stumbled out of the room towards the kitchen to see August preparing breakfast.

So not an Oreo Pop Tart and hair of the dog kind of guy. Too bad.

He caught her eye and stifled a laugh…badly and turned his focus back on the griddle.

"What?" she grumbled.

"Nothing. Hungry?"

Her pride hammered at her to turn up her nose and tell him she was going back to Boston right away, but she was starving, and the coffee smelled heavenly. Without a word, she found a plate in the cupboard, and August slid two hot pancakes onto her plate. On the dining table, there was butter, syrup, a pitcher of water, two empty glasses, and two empty mugs. She sat down and spread an ample amount of butter and drizzled on some syrup while August poured her some freshly brewed coffee.

"When I was up here a week ago, I only got stuff that wouldn't go bad. No milk or cream, sorry."

Emma swallowed her bit of pancake and wiped her frowning mouth with a napkin. "You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "I had to be prepared. As cozy as Granny's Diner and her inn are, it's a hotspot for the locals, especially the sheriff and the mayor."

"How are we supposed to get around if we can't…you know…go around?"

August sighed. "We won't be able to stay invisible for long. When I was here last week, it was hard to keep my head down and not be noticed. Yes, these people are in a haze, but they've only seen each other for twenty-eight years. They've never seen an outsider."

"Right," Emma said slowly, suppressing her scoff while harshly cutting small triangles out of her stack of pancakes. "So what's on the agenda, huh? You got me up here to break some curse and to see my parents."

"We're going on a hike."

Emma paused mid-chew. "Seriously?"

"It's only about a mile from here."

"What is?"

"You'll see."

Her gaze fell to his bad leg and said, "Should you really be hiking?"

He smiled wistfully and replied, "It's not hurting so bad today."

They finished their breakfast and tidied up the kitchen. Emma then went to the bathroom and saw why August had chuckled at her earlier. Her hair was atrocious, and she contemplated having a shower but decided against it. She was going on a hike and would just get dirty and sweaty, anyway. Instead, she washed her face and brushed her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail.

August met her outside on the porch with a small pack slung around a shoulder, and they started on their trek through the forest and finding a trail which he told her would lead them where they needed to go.

The air was brisk and the trees were different, but Emma was reminded of Neverland from being encased in such a dense forest, especially when the clouds opened and started to sprinkle. Her stay in that place happened so many years ago and for such a short amount of time compared to the rest of her life, but it stayed with her. Neverland was never far from her mind and memories. As great as it would be to forget her time there or even try to persuade herself it was just a bad dream, the scar on her shoulder told her otherwise.

Since August had promised a mile's journey to wherever, it wasn't long before they came to a clearing. A part of that clearing was a well, quaint and picturesque like it had literally come out of a story book.

"A watering hole," she said, nodding.

"I became familiar with the town the week I was up here. Storybrooke is set up for tourism even though no one has ever visited. There was a lot of cookie-cutter history as well as small-town myths. One of them is about a well. Now according to Storybrook legend, there's something special about this well. The locals say the water from the well is fed by an underground lake, and that lake has magical properties."

August went over to the well and set his pack on the ledge, taking two tin cups out of it. He extended them to Emma, and she stared at him bemusedly before walking over and accepting them while he pulled at the rope to bring up the bucket from the depths of the well. When the bucket reached the top, August rested it on the ledge and Emma stepped closer and handed the cups to August. He dipped both into the water and offered her one and said, "They say that if you drink the water from the well, something lost will be returned to you."

Emma's lips hovered over the rim of the tin cup as August drank his. Was he hoping his leg would magically become flesh and bone again? It would take a lot more than just some dribbles of ground water and wishful-thinking in fulfilling that wish. She may know that there's magic out there, but it was in different realms—different worlds. There wasn't magic here in hers. It's why Neal had wanted to come to this one so badly.

But magic can reach here, Emma. You know that better than most, quipped a voice inside her head and it sounded a lot like Pan's.

Emma hesitantly sipped at the cold, mineral-y water and contemplated August's last words. Something lost would supposedly be returned to her. In her twenty-eight years, she lost many things, but most she couldn't say for certain she wanted them returned.

She finished her water and gave the cup back to August. "You're not going to ask what I wished for, are you?"

"I can probably guess." He put the cups back in his pack and slung it over his shoulder. "Aside from a little rain, it's still a nice day. The sun will be out again, most likely. We can explore the woods more if you'd like."

Emma shook her head. "It's okay."

"In that case," he slung the pack around his shoulder, "let's get back to the cabin and get ready to head into town."

"You pretty much said you wanted to avoid it. Now you want to go skipping through Main Street."

Getting back on the trail, August replied, "Not Main Street. Storybrooke Elementary."

Emma faltered behind him and made a face. "A school?"

"Your mom's a teacher there. I figured you'd want to see her." He glanced back at her, grinning. "Don't you?"

"Well…" She folded her arms and glared at him. "I doubt it be will my mom you want to meet, but I don't think walking up to this woman is-"

"We won't. Afternoon recess is in a couple of hours, and she'll be out watching the kids. Come on, Emma. I know you want to see her."

"You don't know anything."

"I do know what it's like to want your parents and not have them."

Emma mulled over his words and thought back to what he told her at that tree not far from that diner. His father had put him in the magical wardrobe first. If that was the case, wouldn't August's father be in Storybrooke?

"August, tell me something. If it's all true, what you told me, then why haven't you gone to see your dad? I mean, he would be here, right? I just find it odd that you're putting so much effort into making me believe when you should be worried about other things."

August didn't say anything for a few moments but eventually replied, "I saw my father last week. I didn't go up to him because I knew he wouldn't remember me. I miss him, but I'd rather reunite with him knowing who I am and before I turn back into wood."

"I guess that makes sense," she mumbled. "If any of this made sense to begin with."

When they got back to the cabin, Emma unwrapped her scarf from her neck and asked August something that had been weighing on her mind since he talked about his dad. "Where's my dad?"

August sat down on one of the chairs close to the unlit fireplace and started unlacing his boots. "I don't know. I tried finding him, but I couldn't. He…may not be here."

"If he's not here, then where is he? Shouldn't he be with my mom?"

"Your mom lives in an apartment by herself. Your dad's not with her. I did look for him, but I didn't seem him. He could be here. I just don't know where. There is a chance…"

Emma silenced him with a shake of her head, the events in the past twelve hours becoming too surreal for her. Plus, August's speculation that her birth father was actually dead while her mom lead some lonely life for twenty-eight years in a cursed state was a little to much to handle at the moment.

She didn't believe it.

She didn't believe it, but why was there an ache inside her? She hadn't had her dad, or her mom for that matter, her whole life. It shouldn't hurt to know he was dead.

"Emma, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm going to…" She pointed a thumb at the master bedroom, implicating that she was going to get washed up for their jaunt into town.


Over an hour later, Emma slid into her driver's seat and August sat beside her. She'd taken her keys back, insisting she would drive from here on out, and that he should be prepared and not surprised if she ever decided a prompt return to Boston.

Emma followed the pathway out of the woods and turned left on the road. From there, August directed her onto Main Street, passing by several establishments and a broken clock tower. They weren't on the street very long before turning onto another and soon found themselves in a more suburban setting. After a few more lefts and rights, Emma could see a crosswalk up ahead on the right and a school. She was about to say something to August when she caught him massaging his leg.

"Doesn't hurt today, huh?" she quipped. "I got some pain killers in the glove box."

"They won't work. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," she said, noticing the color leaving his cheeks and the grinding of his teeth.

"I'll be-"

August's reassuring lie was cut short when he let out a loud, pain-filled groan. He stretched his leg and kneaded it while writhing in his seat. He clenched his jaw shut and banged his fist against the door. She had no idea what to do or say but could only stare at him sympathetically and hope he didn't damage her car door or break the window to distract himself from his agony.

"August, are-"

His eyes flew open and he yelled, "Stop! Stop the car!"

Emma swiveled her eyes back on the road and slammed on the brakes, her bumper well on its way in becoming acquainted with a tiny human in a school uniform. She let out a scream and could hear the small boy doing the same. When the car came to a screeching stop, she left August to himself and practically fell out of the car to make sure the kid was all right.

"Oh, my God!" She rounded her car and knelt down to come face to face with the little boy she almost turned into roadkill. "I am so, so sorry! Are you okay? I didn't see you."

The kid nodded, his skin pale and making the freckles on his nose stand out prominently. He was snuggling a book bigger than himself to his chest. The weight seemed to counterbalance his ginormous Captain America backpack, preventing him from teetering forward or backward.

"What are you doing out in the street, kid?" she asked, placing a hand on her chest. Holy shit, she almost killed a child.

"I'm on the crosswalk," he piped up defiantly.

"Yeah," she said and glanced at the school and the children on swings and jungle-gym behind him. "But how come I get the feeling you aren't supposed to be."

Emma got down into a crouching position to get on eye-level with the boy and gave him a half-smile. He was a cutie, especially when he looked down at his little unlaced, converse shoes and shrugged.

"What's your name, kid?" she asked.

"Henry," he said and winced. "Are you going to tell my mom I ran away from school?"

Emma quirked a brow at his unintended confession. "Henry, I'm Emma. How about we make a deal? You don't speak a word about me almost hitting you, and I won't tell anybody you tried to run away from school."

"Emma," he said slowly, gaping in awe. "Like E-M-M-A?"

She nodded. "But you have to go back to school. Those are the terms, buddy."

"It's you! This. Is. Awesome!"

Emma frowned and flinched when the boy started jumping up and down, taking her by surprise when hopping into her space and resting his head on her shoulder in some strange hug that didn't require his already busy arms.

"You found me," he said. "And you're so pretty."

She pulled away from him and gave him a concerned look. "I don't know who you think I am-"

"You're my mom. My real mom a-and I was going to go home and get on the computer and look for you and send you a letter because you don't have a Facebook, but you found me first."

Emma worried that maybe her bumper had indeed conked him a smidge. "I'm not your mom, kid."

"Emma Swan," he said, beaming and making her bristle from the use of her last name. "You gave me up for adoption six and half years ago and now you're here to break the curse, right?"

Tearing her eyes away from the kid, she stood up and stared incredulously at August. This wasn't possible.

Concerned, August pushed open his door and got halfway out of the car to poke his head out. "Is he okay?"

She advanced on him, pulling completely out of the car and shoving him against it. "What did you do?!"

He blinked at her, alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

"You can't lie your way out of this one. I know you did something. What did you have to do get him to play along, you psycho?!"

"What are you talking about?!" he repeated.

"The kid! That kid!" She whipped her head to Henry who was looking at them nervously.

"Him? I've never seen him before. Why? What is this all about?"

"You…You're lying!"

"I'm not lying, Emma. I swear to God, I'm not. Why are you acting this way?"

"Mom," the kid said, walking closer to them and biting his lip. "Why are you angry? Is something wrong?"

"Mom?" August questioned, his eyes narrowing at the kid.

"Don't play dumb. You know everything about me. You expect me to believe you didn't know I had a kid, and one is here in Storybrooke insisting that I'm his birth mom. I can't believe you," she said, disgusted. "I can't believe you would do something like this. How could you even…"

August gently pressed on Emma's hands which was grasping the lapels of his jacket. "Emma. Emma, I didn't know, okay?"

"Yes. Yes, you did. You had to have known because if you didn't…" Emma hugged her middle with one arm and looked at Henry who smiled at her toothily. "Then what is he doing here?"

"I-I don't know," he stammered and a horrified expression washed over him. "Emma, you had a kid? When?"

"August!" She practically growled his name and got ahold of his lapels once more. "What the hell is my son doing here?"

"Please, stop yelling," Henry said and shuffled closer to them and his brown eyes bore into Emma's green ones. "You gave me up for adoption. My other mom lives here, and she adopted me."

"That's impossible," August said. "No one can get in or out of this place. Well, maybe except for-"

"Who's your mom?" Emma asked.

The boy grimaced and looked at his feet. "She's not all bad. She loves me, I'm pretty sure."

"Who's your mom, kid?" asked August forcefully.

Henry scuffed the toe of his converse on the asphalt and said, "The mayor."


"I'm taking him back to his mother!" shouted Emma as she burst open the cabin door, Henry and August following behind her. She whirled around, hands on her hips and shuddered internally when her gaze landed on the boy.

This. Shit. Wasn't. Happening.

"You are his mother!" August argued. "You can't take him back to that woman. She's the Evil Queen."

"We kidnapped a child, August!"

"I wanted to come. Do you have any juice?" piped Henry and shuffled to the kitchen, setting his book down and opening the fridge. "Ah, man. I guess water's fine."

Emma cupped her head, shaking it. "I'm taking him home. I don't care what you say."

"Can we at least catchup first?" Henry asked as he climbed up on the counter and opened one of the cupboards. He pulled out a glass and hopped back down onto the floor. He carefully poured himself some filtered water and then plopped down on one of the chairs, opening his book. "You probably wanna know stuff."

"Maybe another time, kid," Emma said while marching towards him. "When I have permission from your mom to talk to you."

"Don't take me back yet. Please," he begged and all she could see was Neal. Henry's eyes, his messy hair, his ears. So much of Neal, it twisted her insides.

"I have to. I shouldn't have taken you to begin with. I did a very bad thing," she told him and rested her hands on the table.

"But you found me," he said, using the same words he had earlier. "You didn't know I was here. It was destiny."

Exhaling sharply, she took the remaining seat and scooted closer but not too close to him. The kid was six years old and talking about things he couldn't understand. "There's no such thing. It was a coincidence. That's all."

Emma only half-believed herself. Had she not just drank from that magical well two hours before? The water was supposed to return something that she lost, and the boy she gave birth to in jail was sitting right in front of her nowhere close to Phoenix, Arizona but only a few hours north from her on the I-95.

"No, it's real. I knew it when I found your name on the computer. You're in my book."

Emma flicked her focus on Henry's open book. "Sure, I am."

August came up beside them and touched an illustrated page. "May I?" he asked Henry.

Henry bobbed his head, and August took the book and went back into the main room. The kid then asked in a poorly concealed whisper, "Is he my dad?"

Emma chuckled mirthlessly. "No. August is…I don't know what he is, actually. A pain in my ass is more accurate."

"But I have a dad."

She pressed her lips together tightly and nodded.

"What's he like?"

"Emma?" August came back into the kitchen, and she was relieved to have avoided in giving any details to Henry about Neal. Apparently at six, this kid was a wiz at the computer and was able to find her information, no problem. If she gave Henry a name, God knows what he could dig up and find.

"Mmm?"

"You need to read this. I only flipped through it, and I can't believe what I'm seeing. Henry," he knelt down and looked the boy in the eye, "where did you get this book? Did the mayor, give it to you?"

Henry shook his head. "Miss Blanchard gave it to me."

"Snow White gave you the book?"

"Yeah!" The boy's face lit up and bounced on his seat.

"And where did she get it?"

"She said she found it in her closet. I think magic brought it to her."

"Okay, I've heard enough." Emma got up from her seat and yanked her car keys out of her jean pockets, dangling them. "I'm taking you home."

August shoved the book towards her chest and she took it from him, only to hand it off to Henry. He pouted at her and cuddled the huge tome close to his chest and slid of his seat, toddling to the main room.

"It's all in there," August said, gesturing with his arm. "Everything. Read it and you'll believe."

Emma glowered at him. "Stay here. I'm taking him to his mother to whom I will lie my ass off about everything that brought us to this point and hope she doesn't have me arrested."

"The whole point was to not have her notice you! Now you're just going to go and introduce yourself!" he shouted after her.

She ignored him and escorted Henry out of the cabin and to her car. With Henry in the passenger seat, she started the Bug and drove to the main road and made a left. She got on Main Street and took it all the way down as per instruction by the kid next to her and then made another left, coming to a nice, extravagant home where an older police cruiser was parked in front next to an Mercedes from the same year. Henry got out of the car and ran up the walkway to the front door while Emma took her time, wanting to get a good look at this mayor who adopted the baby she gave birth to.

Before the kid even made it halfway to the house, the front door burst open and an attractive and smartly dressed woman came rushing out to embrace him. The woman hugged him tightly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. A man, assumingly the sheriff, exited the house and stood from afar to give the boy and his mother some space.

Emma got out of the car, drawing attention to herself when shutting the door. Henry's adoptive mother stared at her in shock and then her dark eyes narrowed in distrust.

"Who are you?" the woman asked coldly, releasing her son.

Before Emma could get a word in, Henry exclaimed, "She's my birth mom, and she found me!"

Well, shit!

"It's not like that," Emma rushed out, shaking her head and the sheriff began closing in.

Emma remembered August telling her this woman's name was Regina Mills, and Regina Mills folded her arms and shot her an incredulous look. "And what is it like, Miss…"

"Swan. Emma Swan. I got a letter from Henry a few days ago."

"So you came and kidnapped him?"

"I wanted to go with her!" Henry said and Regina looked like someone kicked her in the stomach, and Emma winced. Henry seemed to have no idea what he'd just said.

"Go inside, Henry," Regina said quietly, waving her hand at him. "I need to talk to Miss Swan."

"She wasn't going to take me."

"Henry!"

The boy's features pinched unpleasantly, and he sprinted inside the house. Regina turned to face her. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you arrested."

Emma showed the woman her palms. "He wanted to see me," she said truthfully and then continued with another lie. "And I had no intention of taking him. He told me to meet him by the clock tower and…"

"And what, Miss Swan?"

"Does it matter? You want to arrest me? Fine, but I have no intention of taking Henry away from you. I promise you that."

Regina stepped into Emma's space and sneered. "Do you know what a closed adoption is? It's what you asked for when you gave him up. Now I suggest you get into your car and leave Storybrooke before my forgiving mood goes away, and I press charges. Sheriff Graham," she said to the man a few feet away from them, "escort Miss Swan back to her car and off my property."

"Will do, Madam Mayor," he said, tipping his head at her as she briskly walked by him and into her house, slamming the door shut.

Emma raised a hand at the man and started walking towards her car. "I can see myself off, thanks."

"Regina can be complicated. I apologize."

Surprised, Emma glanced back at him and chuckled. "You're apologizing on the mayor's behalf even though any normal person would've had me arrested. You should know I got off lucky."

When she got to her car door, Graham offered a hand. "Let me properly introduce myself. Sheriff Graham Humbert."

He did realize that she kidnapped a child, right? Nevertheless, Emma took his hand and gave him a tired half smile. "Emma Swan," she replied.

"So you're Henry's birth mother."

"…yes…"

"He's a good lad. Really smoothed Regina's feathers when she adopted him."

"Her feathers looked pretty ruffled to me."

"In comparison, I mean."

The way Graham stared at her, eyes drilling into her like he wanted her to stay a little longer and get to know her, made Emma feel both irritated and a tiny bit flattered. He was handsome.

Very handsome.

But she was Emma Swan and she only caved into a handsome man's advances if there was no promise of tomorrow, and this guy had a tomorrow kind of feel to him. Definitely a gentleman. He wouldn't make her breakfast or even prepare her a Pop Tart but would take her out, let her order everything off the menu, and watch her eat every bite.

"Um, that's good, I guess." Emma opened her car door and gave Graham a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"If you're still in town this evening, Miss Swan, I'm at Granny's Diner at eight o' clock for my break."

Sort of endeared by his attempt to ask her out, she said, "I'll keep that in mind. Goodbye."


The sun was already disappear behind a thick, cluster of storm clouds, and the sky began to darken even though there was plenty of hours left in the day. When she came to the outskirts of Storyrbooke to get to the road leading back to the cabin, she had to turn on her headlights.

Her mind began to race because, holy shit, she just met her son. Her son was here in a un-Google-able place living with a woman that made Emma's prickly personality seem like a fleece blanket.

She should've asked the woman if she really loved Henry. That's what Emma had wanted when she gave the kid up for adoption. She wanted him to have his best chance, and she knew it wasn't going to be with her but with someone who could provide a promising future for him. She had just gotten out of jail and had no money to her name and was no longer qualified to get into Hampton University. Her future was shot to hell, so how could she give a good one to a child?

Emma's eyes drifted to the passenger seat where Henry had sat not too long before and clicked her tongue in dismay when seeing Henry's book. "Sneaky bastard."

She skimmed the title, seeing it for the first time and arched a brow. Once Upon a Time? Really? She was either going to have to turn around and give it back to him or track him down later which wouldn't be a good idea. Best to get it over with.

Emma lifted her eyes to the road and noticed too late that she'd drifted to the side where a man was walking. He turned around and jumped back to avoid getting hit, falling into the ditch. Emma slammed on her brakes and got out of the car, jogging towards him.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you okay?"

He slowly stood up and paused as it assess himself and then said, "Uh, I think so."

"Are you sure?" She frowned. God, this was the second time today she nearly hit someone. What was her problem?

This town! This goddamn town was her problem. She needed to get out of it and fast.

I'm fine," the man said. "I'm not used to sharing the road with cars out here. This road isn't often used."

Emma nodded and folded her arms, taking in the man's appearance. He was well-dressed and groomed with a modern, chic hairstyle. What was a guy dressed like him doing all the way out here? A walk, probably, but he certainly wasn't dressed for one.

"I don't believe I recognize you. Are you new in town?"

Emma bobbed her head from side to side. "I don't know yet. I'm just—you know—browsing the joint. It's very…green."

"So you're out in the middle of nowhere looking for property to purchase? Good luck. Mr. Gold only does business with possible tenants, not buyers."

"Good to know. Look, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes. I'll just be on my way. It was pleasant meeting you."

"You, as well."

The man began to walk, hobbling with each step and she winced guiltily, saying, "You are hurt."

"No, I just twisted my ankle, I think. I live just a mile down the road. I'll make it okay."

Emma joined him in the ditch and offered a sincere, apologetic grimace. "No, let me drive you. I insist."

The man regarded her with a small, relieved smile. "Thank you. I'm Jefferson."

"Emma."


Misthaven

With the day drawing to a close, Hook left the ramshackle hut where he did his blacksmith work. Earlier that morning, he had assisted Cora in retrieving Lancelot's heart in the man's shack whilst the rest of the community laid in their straw beds for the night. Hook had felt a tad guilty, but the ends justified the means. Cora insisted she felt the curse weakening already and sooner than she anticipated, they would be able to breech more of the Enchanted Forest. She spoke of a beanstalk and a giant who may have a golden compass that could direct them to her daughter when the time came.

"If it directs me to Regina, Rumpelstiltskin won't be far."

The way they were supposed to cross realms still resided in the air, but Cora hoped there was a magic bean to spare when they fetched the golden compass.

Hook returned to his shack for a spare change of threads and a bar of soap and then travelled towards the shore. He needed a wash and yearned for fresh water to bathe instead of to merely drink. Luxuries such as fresh water were difficult to come by in the community, every drop going towards hydration, harvesting, and laundry. The Enchanted Forest no longer had seasons and was forever stuck in early autumn. The days could be cool if there was rain, but there could also be days of uncomfortable warmth. He supposed he should be grateful for the variety, albeit sparse that it was.

There was a river two miles away he resorted to on occasion when the shorelines were populated with other bathers and the uncleanliness of his work and the days became unbearable. He fancied cleanliness because a lady preferred a nice smelling man to lay with and press up against in the wee hours of the night.

After his quick salty and soapy wash in the ocean, he dressed into his clean clothes and travelled back to his shack and wished for some rum and woman. There were barrels of his chosen drink left on the Roger, but he'd intentionally anchored her as far away as possible while Cora had cast cloaking spell upon it. Bleedin' Christ, he missed his bed and the comforts of his cabin. The only thing worth staying in this barren piece of land was the women. He didn't have any gallivanting about on the ship.

Easily, he could swagger down to Enyha's shack and watch her and her sister's fight until the brink of death, so the winner could keep him company for the night. Strangely, he wasn't in the mood to watch those delectable tarts have at each other in hopes of spending a rather pleasurable evening and morning with him. Yet, he still wanted a companion to warm his bed.

Hook found himself retiring to bed alone and slipped beneath the covers, and he stared at the empty space beside him like a lonely, old codger and thought of Emma in his dream the night before. She had been exquisitely naked and womanly, her breasts fuller and hips more rounded than he remembered. The fanciful images lulled him into a deep slumber but unfortunately did not morph into another enticing reverie. However, her presence remained, and he saw her running through a jungle. Through Neverland. She wore the clothes he last saw her in, the black trousers and Milah's leather tunic. Alas, Emma was older and seemed to be earnestly search for something. Soundless words tumbled out her lips, and she paid him no mind when he reached out to her, calling her by name.

Finally, she stopped running and stared directly at him, panting for breath. "Help me, Killian," she said and the dream shifted, the scenery dissolving and shaping into his quarters in the Jolly Roger. On his bed was Emma, dressed and aged the same from the previous frantic scene. She appeared to be asleep, resting fitfully on her back, head slightly turned outward, facing him. Entranced by the sight of her serenity, he watched her breasts rise and fall, completely captivated by her beauty. Because of this, he failed to react in time when Cora entered the scene. She hovered over Emma for only a second before plunging her hand into the younger's chest and yanking out her heart. Emma's eyes flew open, and she screamed in pain.

"No!" he yelled and tried to move but found himself immobile.

Cora examined the brightly shining heart, pursing her lips and extending it to someone else in the room. Hook locked eyes with Pan who smirked viciously at him, his features never wavering, not even when taking Emma's heart from Cora. Pan then looked at the heart, studying it intently.

"Mmm, pity," the demonic boy said and tightened his hold on the heart. Hook could do nothing as the organ crumpled to dust and rain down on the floor. Emma's eyes fluttered shut, and one of her hands lay limply over her chest while her other arm sagged off the side of the mattress, and he witnessed the last rise and fall of her chest.

Hook bolted up in his bed, his body drenched in sweat. He lifted his hand close to his face and watched his fingers tremble briefly before wiping at his soaked features.

"Shite," he muttered and patted his chest in a poor attempt to calm his wildly beating heart. It had only been a dream. A strange and malignant dream, yes, but a dream, nonetheless.

"You're all right, Swan," he whispered to himself, leaning back onto his bed and taking in a deep, calming breath. "You're all right wherever you are."