Had Emma been here, they all would have sped away in her car and arrived at the hospital with time to spare. Of course, had Emma been here, there would be no need to speed away in her car and arrive at the hospital with time to spare...

"I guess we're walking," Henry finally sighs, sipping his drink. "It's not like we can call Mom and have her give us a ride."

"Let's cast off then," he says, trying his best to sound chipper. Henry tucks the book under his arm, adjusts his obscenely large beverage, and grimaces as they start off. At first, Killian attributes it to discomfort and opens his mouth to suggest the boy leave it at Granny's, but Henry's elbow threatens to push right through the book and into his ribs.

"What's that?" he asks, gesturing at the book.

"Oh. The Fellowship of the Ring. It's a three-part epic about a group of heroes who live in a magical world trying to get rid of a ring that corrupts everyone who owns it. I-I thought maybe, you know, it-it might be something to work off of," he spouts off, his voice wobbling. "I kind of started thinking the dagger was a lot like the One Ring, and I wasn't getting anywhere with the book, so...it sounds stupid, I know."

"Source material is never a stupid place to start," Killian says, patting Henry's shoulder. Something to work from is better than nothing at all. Raising his eyebrow at the book's spine, he scans it for any hints as to the nature of the book—whimsical, dour, cynical, ecumenical... "How do they fare? In the story? Do they get rid of the ring you spoke of?"

"Well, they do, but..." Henry glances up at him, fear shimmering in his eyes. "Frodo, the one who holds onto the Ring so no one else has to? He's never really the same afterward." He suddenly seems like a crushed little boy heading off to face his punishment. Well, it is just a story. This—he peers at the spine again—J. R. R. Tolkein certainly wouldn't have had a clue about Dark Ones and daggers. And anyone with the laughable name of Frodo couldn't have any of Emma's resilience. Gods, but he should have been able to tell her he loved her right back, that he could do the impossible when it came to her. How many times had he doubted he could ever be more than what he was only for thoughts of her to lift him up and give him hope?

"But it's just a book," Henry continues, managing a shrug and taking a sip of his drink. "I mean, yeah, it's a starting point, but you remember when you read all about Oz and it had absolutely zero to do with Zelena, right?"

"Right." And now everything had to do with Zelena.


He'd started for the front desk once they'd entered the hospital, but Henry had continued on past it. Killian follows him down a long beige corridor to a door with a small rectangular window and another assortment of buttons to the side. With nimble fingers, Henry pushes in a code and reaches down for the knob. One might think from the buzzing sound that he got it wrong, but the door opens to a bland, stony interior with a rusty staircase.

"Well done, lad. How'd you know the code?"

"My mom's good with magic. Not so much with passwords. She uses my birthday for everything. You'd think she'd change it after a bank statement or two."

He chooses to assume he won't have to worry about Henry pilfering Regina of her life savings. They come to another door where, on the other side, a uniformed woman, a nurse, sits at another desk as a sentry.

"So what's the plan now? How do we get to her? The old 'Wookie prisoner gag'?" Of the two of them, he's not sure which could better pass for a raving lunatic, and he'd rather not have to think about it. His part of the plan has more to do with dealing with Zelena herself. Fortunately, he looks down to Henry suppressing a grin.

"Nah, I never use the same trick twice. I've got another idea," he assures him. It's impossible for him to fight this swelling of his chest, so he won't, watching the lad open the door without any hint of fear whatsoever.

"Hey, Nurse Ratched, is my mom here?" He saunters up to the nurse who scarcely looks beyond her stack of papers. Tipping forward as he reaches the edge of the desk, the contents of Henry's drink spill down the woman's shirt, leaving a brown, wet trail on her once-stainless uniform. She scolds Henry as he sputters out a half-hearted apology and orders the bedraggled, stringy-haired man mopping the floor to come to her aid. Completely devoted to salvaging what was left of her professional appearance, the nurse turns away from the door; there is his cue. Killian sneaks further into the room, winking at the man with the mop, who seems only half-aware of what's happening, anyway. That's not one to worry about blabbing. With his hook, he snags the key ring off the wall and doesn't stop until he's at Zelena's cell. The potion still in his jacket pocket, he rather likes this airy, fearless feeling of being in the Wicked Witch's proximity, he thinks as he unlocks the door.

"What do you want?" she groans, as if displeased to see him. Well, who did she expect? One of her winged henchmen to come dashing to her rescue?

"I want your help with the wand."

"Ah, so this is a rogue mission!" she says with enthusiasm as she stands, nodding her head. "I like it! Go on then. Take it off."

Aye, right away. Since he was born yesterday.

"Well, I'm going to need some assurances first—that you're not going to do anything...unexpected." He tries to match her affability while visualizing just how quickly he'll need to move, how he'll need the tip of his hook to touch just the right spot on her chest. Zelena massages her womb.

"On my unborn child's life," she swear.

"Afraid I'm going to need real assurances." Honestly, he's tempted to ask her if she actually expected him to fall back on the honor system after he'd basically broken in here...as if she had any honor herself. Producing the potion from his pocket, he readies his hook and pours the contents onto it.

"What's that?" she asks him, and does he detect a hint of concern? He smiles, his lips still fighting the impulse to go numb in memory of his last one-on-one meeting with her.

"This is a potion your sister gave me a long time ago," he lies, shaking the last bit of the contents onto his hook.

"To do what?"

"To rip out a heart."

"And why would she give you that?" she demands with a face like she'd eaten raw meat.

"Because she wanted me to take your mother's heart. You can't be surprised your family's troubled. Now then, this is probably going to sting."

The moment the tip of his hook makes contact, a green gust of wind slams him into the opposite wall, the overwhelming odors of rotten apples and dirty dishwater filling up the cell. Magic. Wincing at the bruise he's sure will appear on his back any second, his body involuntarily quakes at Zelena edging closer to him.

"My family may be troubled, dear, but we all know that a heart is a precious thing! And I cast a protection spell on mine eons ago. So you're going to have to do better than that." She's right up against his face now, her breath blasting his eyes. His feet push off the floor, his mind willing himself to stand back up. "Oh, it appears you're right. It did sting."

She's too quick for him. A flash of something shiny. Feral, unhinged eyes. He throws his arms up over his face, hoping his hook will know where to block as she dares him to look at whatever painful thing she's going to do.

But she jerks back from him, the blade of his knife she stole from him high above them both, then thrusting it down.

On herself.

"What the..." His eyelashes try to bat out the image of a severed hand, cuff still attached, on the floor with only a few spots of blood around it, as if it's waiting for him to scream or merely move before it starts gushing. Zelena stoops over it, her other hand trembling, breaths shallow and fighting off panic.

"There. Much better," she purrs in a quivering voice as she gathers her cut-off hand, leaving the cuff on the floor. She positions it on her stump as if she was piecing a scarecrow together. The green light, the faint scent of apples—and it's reattached as if she'd never lost it at all.

"You should have listened to my sister," she says after a few seconds of unparalleled delight at herself. Green smoke whirls around her and she vanishes in an instant.

"What happened? Where is she?" Henry wedges himself through the door, closely it behind them. "Nurse Ratched left to go get some towels from upstairs. We don't have a lot of time. Where is she? Where's Zelena?"

Killian falls back against the wall, the back of his fist burrowing into his forehead. He needs something to smash, but the cell is bare. He needs somewhere to look other than at the ridiculously scant amount of blood on the floor, black in the poor lighting, but there is only Henry. Henry, who had played his part to perfection.

"I'm so sorry, Henry. She bested me. She's gone."

"What happened?" he blurts out. "Never mind. We need to get out of here. We can't have Nurse Ratched calling Grandpa to arrest us."

Henry pushes him out the door, going so far as to reach around and grab the hook to pull him out of the corridor. If Zelena starts terrorizing Storybrooke, if she goes after Robin's small boy, if she kills Regina...he shakes his head as he races up the staircase behind Henry. She'll have to be dealt with first. Plain and simple, his error and no one else's. He's failed Henry. He's failed Emma. He may have just failed the entire town, but Zelena has to be dealt with before the situation becomes worse.


.

He holds his breath, Snow's scolding sinking into him while Regina tries to reach Robin on her phone. Emma would have quelled any fighting before anyone could have had the chance to start slinging nasty words around, and their motley little band is falling apart without her. Her mother's right. They have to be united if they stand any chance of finding her.

"You bitch!"

Blinking, he snaps back to reality and watches Regina gnash her teeth at her own phone, ending the call and clutching it so tightly he knows without a doubt she's contemplating slamming it to the floor.

"Zelena wants us to come to the clock tower," Regina says, her voice cracking.

They dart out of the town hall outside. Down the street, with the clock tower looming over them, two lone silhouettes stand in the middle of the road.

"So what's the plan?" Snow whispers, sidling up next to Regina.

"Plan? I waste her."

Killian likes it.

"Regina, can't you just conjure up the cuff or something and lock her back up? We don't have time to worry about damage control or Zelena's magic flying all over the place right now. We thought she was dead once before and all of a sudden time travel became a concern. We can't have anything go haywire," David warns. Before Regina can answer him, she holds her arm for them to be quiet, quickening her pace so she's out front. Green waves from Zelena's fingertips hold Robin in place.

"Hello, sis. I see you've fixed the clock," Zelena greets her, gesturing at the clock with her head. "It would be a shame to break it again. Although it might be fun to see Robin fly like one of his arrows."

"You lay another finger on him-"

"Oh, I'm not here to hurt Robin. I'm here to trade him for the Apprentice's wand," she interrupts, straightening her back and puffing out her chest.

"What the hell do you want with this?" Regina asks, gripping the wand tighter. Killian's knuckles whiten. He bounces on his heel, preparing to charge between them and spirit the wand away somewhere—anywhere—but here.

"I am tired of losing to you!" The proud smile on her face contorts into something more cruel, something angrier. The first coherent thought that flies into his head is that she'll upset the baby, but only because her hand, a hundred times calmer than the rest of her, caresses her womb. "You continue to get everything! But now—now I have someone to love me and only me. See, this is my future, and I am not letting anyone anyone take it from me or turn it against me. So I am going as far away from you and Robin as possible, over the rainbow, where you can't follow!"

"Back to Oz?" Regina breathes. The wind picks up, clouds gathering behind them. Good. The tip of his hook always hurts unlucky sons of bitches more when a cold rain kisses it.

"I may have been feared and despised there, but at least I was free. At least I was in control! So if you want your forest-smelling boyfriend to live through the day, you will give me that wand!"

"Don't even think about it," he hisses at Regina. Bloody hell, what had happened to all that light magic at the barn that had disarmed and made short work of this witch? Where was that now?

"You can't, Regina, please," Snow pleads with her, David edging further from his wife and closer to Regina, arms at the ready. They can tackle her together, wrestle her to the ground and guard the wand while she can make some attempt to subdue her sister. Robin can't beg her one way or the other, the green waves curling all the way up around his throat. It's disturbingly easy to imagine them engulfing him, darkening into a green cyclone that can fling him any which way. But it's still even easier to imagine Emma all alone with the Darkness.

"I have to," Regina whispers. She steps forward and hands the wand over before any of them have a chance to move.

"Lovely!" Zelena laughs, snatching the wand from her, releasing Robin in the same movement. She completely ignores Regina running to him and his gasping for air. "All it needs is a little direction, a trinket from home." Producing a necklace with some glass bauble at the end of it, she taps it with the wand, which ushers green lightning bolts in the clouds behind her. They interlock and swirl into one massive funnel cloud. He's not going to Oz. No one is. If he only had the cuff he'd picked up off the cell floor and given to Regina.

"Now see me do what you weren't powerful enough to do yourself!" Zelena shouts over the rushing wind, hacking at the air with the wand until it shoots out a blinding green light, barrelling her over. Wheezing, she braces her knees to keep from collapsing. Regina darts out and clasps the cuff around her, David right behind her to wrench the wand from her grasp.

"What the hell happened?" he orders. If the Wicked Witch can't even activate the wand, they'll have to start over again, but the cyclone before them still hovers over the rooftops, and if he's learned anything about how magic operates in the last couple of years, it's that it reacts to its owner. An aborted spell is an aborted spell, incomplete.

"What happened is I'm not stupid." Turning back to Zelena, Regina sneers at her. "I knew you could open that portal, but I also knew it would weaken you. See, there's one thing our family does well, sis, and that's exploit pain. Now, we're going to take your portal, but we're not taking it to Oz." She turns back towards them and locks eyes with Snow. "We're taking it to Emma."

"Whatever we're going to do, we need to hurry," David grunts, lifting Zelena as if she were a bride about to cross the threshold...or be tossed down a ravine. Robin rushes to help him, tying her hands down with a scarf.

"What do you think you're doing?" Regina demands, the wind ever closer, drowning her out even as they all stand next to her.

"We're keeping an eye on her!" David shouts back. "There's no time to take her back to the hospital!"

"Hey!" Granny, with a voice boisterous to rise over the storm for a split second, rushes down the steps of the diner waving her arms. "Hey! Get inside! Outside is the last place you want to be in one of these!"

"Regina..." Snow again looks to her, enough of a question in her tone for Regina to know.

"Yes. The magic will follow Zelena. It's just...we get her inside, the whole place is going back to the Enchanted Forest. Not sure I want to be scalded with grease."

Granny bustles toward them in the street, still flailing her arms and trying to tug all their arms at once, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.

"If you're implying my food is greasy..." she snaps at Regina, then turning to Snow and David, adds, "You need all the help you can get, not only reaching Emma, but actually saving her. She's saved us more than enough times. I'm going with you."

He won't argue with her, especially if she brings her crossbow along with that feisty tongue.

"What about Ruby? What about the diner?" Snow presses.

"My kin will be fine. Yours, not so much. Hurry up! We've got stuff to tie down...and people to tie up," she says, glaring at Zelena.

Hurrying into Granny's, they make room for David and Robin to go in first with Zelena. Gods, that's reason alone for a werewolf to come along, Killian thinks, wedging past them to keep an eye on the storm through the windows. It's all around them, as Regina had assured it would be. Behind him, everyone scatters around, most of the staff bolting out the back door to their cars. The seas have born witness to enough hurricanes in their time, and in spite of the fact he's never been in a cyclone, he's heard enough stories to know how they vie for the most dangerous storm the elements can lash out. Out in the street, a sickly shade of green floods the gray sky, stray papers fluttering everywhere.

"Floyd, shut down the fryers! Secure the condiments!" Granny yells to the man in the back. His back to the rest, he doesn't need to see the man finish his duties and make a mad dash for the exit; the clomping footsteps are enough, perfect accompaniment with Charming's throaty command for Zelena to not move.

"I'm not sure my insurance covers this place going airborne," Granny huffs.

"We'll be fine." He also doesn't need to turn around to know Regina's rolling her eyes at her, wondering why everyone's in such an uproar. The wind might be following Zelena, but there's no guarantee they can harness it. If it follows her will, they'll all be going to Oz, separated from Emma by yet another realm...and Emma doesn't have time for that. Neither does he.

"Well, your Majesty, it's coming. How do you suggest we get this cyclone to take us to Emma and not to Oz?" She nods at him, inhaling as if she was preparing for a race.

"By using this." Reaching out into her bag, she pulls out the corner of something white and crocheted, something he's seen once before, the royal purple ribbon threaded through it confirmation.

"Emma's baby blanket!" Snow gasps, eyes wide.

"I, uh, couldn't very well carry her yellow Bug." The look they share compels everyone to creep closer together, Henry keeping one arm tight around Roland, Snow holding the baby tighter. "Ready?"

Ready. His eyes refuse to leave the blanket, Regina stroking the air just above it with the wand. If it doesn't work...no. There's always hope. He's been around everyone in this diner for too long to believe anything else. This will work. He'll see Emma before nightfall. She'll be able to fight the Darkness in her long enough for them to find this Merlin. Hell, with any luck, she's found him already. When the blanket glows a warm gold color and the direction of the wind outside changes ever so slightly, he exhales, wondering if in some way she's thinking the same thing right now. He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the magic.

"Twister!" The door nearly slams into his face, the whooshing wind as deafening as Leroy and two of the others...blast it, he can never remember which ones...at a time like this, should he?...follow him wearing the same worried expressions.

"Leroy, it's okay. We summoned it," Snow clarifies.

"You did?" Gods, does the dwarf actually sound disappointed? He should think any Storybrooke resident would thank his or her lucky stars this was for once a hero-induced occurrence and not the arrival of the next villain.

"It's taking us to Emma."

"Out, dwarves. Adults only," Regina orders.

"No!" Leroy bellows.

"'No?'" the other one behind him blurts. Happy! That's the one.

"No. We're staying." His stance just as firm, something in Leroy softens nevertheless. "We've been on the sidelines too long, sister, missed too many adventures. Now it's embarrassing. How do you think it feels when everyone asks you how the adventure was, and you got to say that no one asked you to go along? That you weren't needed? We're not turning our back on you again, not even in the face of certain death!"

A bit theatrical, perhaps, but at least it moves Snow, tears welling in her eyes.

"Thank you." Her voice wobbles.

"'Certain?'" Happy repeats. Well, supposing they have to mine their way out of anything, they could prove their usefulness...

A rumbling louder than any clap of thunder ruins the moment for them, followed by the sounds of glass breaking in the back rooms. The lights dim and then go out entirely, matching the outside. The floor shakes with such violence he runs over to the counter where everyone else clings to the edge, kicking the stools out of the way to hang onto each other, catching those losing their footing, minding the baby's head.

"Hold on tight, everyone!" Granny flings herself over the counter to hold onto Belle. Killian ducks his head as cups start rattling their way off the shelves, the overhead lights swinging like mad. He looks up just long enough see the baby crane his little head to stare at him, David's hand helping Snow hold him steady. It's a miracle the wee one isn't screaming, instead just sending him the calmest, most thoughtful look imaginable. As if he was assuring him they'd be with his sister soon.

Not soon enough, little mate, he thinks, mustering a smile. Risking tumbling straight to the floor, he angles his arm so Neal can grasp the curve of his hook. It's a bloody ridiculous notion, but he's certain they're sharing the same hopeful smile as the storm carries them away.


A/N: Coming up? A hero's welcome into Camelot with Emma on his arm.