The diner lands hard, anything still on the shelves crashing to the floor, as well as a few lightbulbs. He slips onto the floor, feeling cold tile and hearing the harsh scraping of heels. Everyone staggers to their feet. Zelena, still bound in the chair, seems to have lost consciousness.
"Is everybody okay?" Snow pants, holding the baby closer to her chest, mercifully uninjured.
"Did it work? Are we back?" David asks, using a bar stool to steady himself. Killian shakes his head and blinks away the dizziness. Nearly tripping over his own locked-out leg, he breaks into a disjointed run toward the door. He'd locked it. Nothing if not safety-minded, he thinks, holding his breath as he throws the door open.
Apart from birds chirping high above them in the trees and a warm breeze, the forest laid out before them is silent. They're close. They must be. Taking off, he hurries over the twigs and bramble, his lips still too dry to call out her name.
"Hook! Wait! We should stay together!" he thinks he hears someone—maybe Regina—shouting after him, but they don't have time for that. Emma doesn't have time for that. She should be here. She should be between the two nearest black tree trunks or stepping out into the nearest clearing, her bright golden hair a dead giveaway. He'll have to rely on sight since the silence begins playing tricks on him. He imagines he can hear someone calling for him. Then he imagines the slinging of arrows and sounds of battles echoing in the horizon. All of it soon gives way to I love you, I love you—a cadence for his run, he decides, leaping past a fallen tree.
Just ahead, something tall and gray breaks the endless array of greens and browns. Stone. And another one. Arranged in a circle.
A wisp of gold catches the sunlight just right.
A swish of movement follows it, so he lengthens his stride, bounding for it.
Emma.
Opening his mouth to call to her, his eyes widen at the bright pink shape she looms over. She holds a human heart in her hand, and even from back here, he can see her trembling knuckles come dangerously close to crushing it.
"Swan! Don't!" Throwing himself between two of the stones, he raises his hand up for her to stop. The red-haired woman across from her freezes, doubled over in pain. He can hear the footsteps of the others rush to his side, but all he can see is how bedraggled she looks, like she hasn't slept or eaten for weeks, like she hasn't seen the sun for a month. Her already pale features have taken on a battle-weary, near-transluscent quality, almost too painful to look at.
"Wha—how?" she croaks, as if she's forgotten the sound of her own voice.
"It doesn't matter how. Has anything ever stopped me before?" He somehow manages to smile even as he edges close enough to hear the thumping of the heart she holds in her hand. Her eyes twitch, drifting from hardened to unfocused. It's as if she's only half aware of what she's doing...could do...
"You don't know what's happening," she groans, on the verge of sobbing. "This is the only way to find Merlin. He's the only one who can stop the Darkness. It's the only way to protect all of you."
"But to stop the Darkness, you're going to let it consume you," Regina pleads with her.
"You don't know that." So exhausted. So drained. How much of a toll has the Darkness already taken?
"We're not going to take that chance," Snow says breathlessly, diverting his eyes from Emma long enough to see her brandish the dagger. They can't do it that way. Controlling her won't exorcise the Darkness. Without choice, it will only linger in her, burying itself deeper, festering.
"No, wait. You can't do that," he says. "It has to be her choice."
"You don't understand what's at stake," Emma seems to recite at them, her grip on the heart just as strong. He glances at the bent-over woman trying not to whimper. "If I don't find Merlin, the Darkness will destroy all of you."
It wouldn't be so bad a fate as it destroying her. He can't resist moving closer to her, hoping for...just hoping.
"Emma, please. No."
"The Dark One destroys everyone near it. Look at Gold. I can't do that to my family. To you." She looks at him so hard he feels his heart breaking again, that she's so certain if she doesn't crush this heart she will never see him again. The heart seems to beat even louder. "She has to die."
Darkness. The Emma he knows would do anything to keep this woman from dying.
"Listen to your words. It's not you speaking, Emma. We can find another way. Together." Some dark recess of his mind scoffs at this, hisses at him that he has no idea how to fight the Darkness on his own, that the pirate who had spiraled ever downward for centuries would actually be the last person to show her how to resist...and then he nearly smiles. He's not alone. They are not alone.
"Look at us—heroes and villains, together for you, because of you," he says, gesturing at everyone who loves her, who braved everything for her. "And if we can overcome it—if we can overcome our demons, then so can you." Please, love. Please. She's looked away from him, over her shoulder, her entire body convulsing, buckling until she stands only a hair above the woman writhing in agony across from her. Such a burden, as if the Darkness set one stone after another atop her, waiting for her to crumble. Don't let today be that day, he pleads with his eyes in spite of the fact she's not looking at him.
Instead, she bares her teeth and glares at the woman, grunting as she suddenly jams the heart back into the woman's chest. He hears the surprised gasp, but he can only concentrate on how she collapses into his arms, her head drooping on his shoulder. Curling into him, he imagines a terrified child rather than the Savior.
This woman, this wonderful, amazing woman who can do anything, almost let the Darkness overtake her in a mere two days. Suddenly, the hand that was gently stroking her hair envelops her into a full embrace. Bloody fool, he thinks. You have to be the one to show her how to fight. It's fight or lose her, and he'd rather die than let her fall because of his own damned weaknesses.
Only the scuffling noises on the ground draw his eyes from her. He sees the red-haired woman spring to her feet, trembling as she dusts off her skirt and adjusts the quiver slung across her chest. Giving all of them a wary look, she takes a few steps backward toward the stones furthest from everyone.
"Merida," Emma coughs, her hands still pressed on his chest, right over his heart. "Merida, the willo'thewisp."
Emma's cocked her head ever so slightly in the direction of a radiant blue light, the shape of a gigantic raindrop. Merida's head bobs around as she follows it, still gasping for air here and there. Pulling away from him, Emma gives him a pleading look to stay before she heads over to the woman. This Merida stands firm for someone almost killed by a Dark One.
"You okay?" Emma asks her.
"Oh, for someone who just now had their heart outside their chest, grand," Merida snorts in a heavy accent.
"Thank you for, well, sort of understanding."
"No, thank you." Merida's endless mass of curls spin like the frills of a skirt as her head snaps in Emma's direction. The two of them, side by side, watch the light dance around them for a brief second.
"For what? I nearly killed you," Emma blurts.
"Well aware," she says with a smile. "Thank you for showing me the darkness in you...reminding me I've got darkness in me, too. I was on my way to kill the people who took my brothers, but maybe—maybe I'll show them mercy, mercy that can heal my divided land." Realizing she's thinking out loud, she laughs at herself. "But someone's gonna get a right good punch to the gut for putting me through this. Then mercy."
The two of them seem to reach some kind of understanding, Killian concludes, watching them give one another a tentative smile, a hesitant grazing of the arms, before Merida follows the light through the stones and further into the forest. It sounds like a song, but as soon as one can almost make out muffled lyrics, it's gone.
"Mom, Dad, this is too dangerous," Emma says, approaching them now that she's made peace with Merida, apparently a traveling companion these last couple of days. "This is too dangerous. You shouldn't have come."
"We had to!" David gasps, finally wrapping his arms around his daughter, that strong protective hand forever supporting the back of her head.
"You're our daughter," Snow adds, stopping short and making eye contact with her. It reminds him of when he'd first observed them in the Enchanted Forest, still not quite believing they were mother and daughter despite Cora's assertions. So thrifty in showing affection and yet craving it, the pair of them. It always seemed the two of them had to ease back into it. Oh well. They'd done that before and they will again now that they're in the same realm. That tends to help, he thinks, a grin spreading across his face.
"Well, you don't look like a crocodile," he teases, raising an eyebrow at her. Come on, darling. Smile for me.
"Guess I lucked out," she answers in that wry, coy tone he always needs more of, and it's gone as quickly as it came, replaced with shock and disgust at the dagger her mother holds out in front of her.
"Here. We think you should have this," Snow says. Sound idea. It's been a while since he's been back to the Enchanted Forest...a good thirty years or so given the parameters of time travel...who knows what has changed? Who knows what kind of magic has already alerted someone that a Dark One now treks through the forest? Zelena herself—still hopefully tied up—had wrenched the dagger from Rumpelstiltskin's vigil, and he'd guarded it so carefully.
"Take it," David insists. "You'll be able to control yourself."
"No." She shudders, recoiling from either the dagger or her parents, and he hates he can't tell which. She stares wide-eyed at the forest.
"Emma, think about it," he says. True, it might not be ideal, but it's at least worth considering. "If it falls into the wrong hands—what it could do, what you could do." He knows how it feels—when your body no longer belongs to you, when your will amounts to little more than the strings holding a marionette upright, the puppeteer forcing every move. You know it, you can't scream, and you still blame yourself for all the atrocities once it's all over.
"The fight to control my Darkness has just begun," she murmurs. "It's too much power. Someone needs to watch me." Taking hold of the dagger without looking at it, she holds it as far from herself as she can as she twists to extend it to Regina.
"Are you serious?" Regina whispers, gripping the dagger by closing one finger around it at a time.
"I saved you. Now save me. And if you can't save me, do what no one else will willingly do. You're the only one who will get past their feelings and do what is necessary. Destroy me."
It won't come to that, he promises her in his head. He knows her, how hard she can fight.
"It won't come to that," Henry vows, moving past all the adults to simply hug his mother.
"I know, kid," she says, taking him in her arms. For a moment, she closes in on him, as if to shield him from something, but she shakes her head. "So are you guys going to tell me how you all got here?"
Oh aye, aye. Hitched a ride on a cyclone from Granny's that doubled as a magical vortex that knew exactly where to drop us. Believable...even within the context of their lives, he thinks, smiling.
"Well, it might be easier to show you," he offers, holding his hand out for her. Yes. She initiates a little arm swing into their walk he finds himself enjoying since just yesterday he'd wondered how long it would be since they would see each other.
"You brought Granny's?" Her jaw drops at the modern diner trying with some desperation to fit in with the surrounding trees.
"Backup generator's working, but the fryers are shot!" Granny calls to them, giving Emma the softest expression he's ever seen on the old woman's face.
"And Granny."
"Terrible news! No onion rings!" Leroy shouts to her, his voice even more piercing amid the tranquil forest.
"And Leroy." She sneaks a sly smile at him, one hundred percent his Swan and he's about ready to quip that all it took was the promise of onion rings in the near future to bring her back to herself, but he much prefers Snow's utterance of their being no shortage of people who want to help her.
"Emma!" Belle calls to her as she runs out of the diner. No shortage at all. Swan cocks her head, but not at Belle. Behind them, as if she's hearing her name being called. Squinting into the horizon, she leans forward freezes in place to hear the invisible sound again. He reads her face checking for fear, but only curiosity remains, which they all have in abundance at the distant whinny of a horse fast approaching.
"What now?" Leroy asks. Such a last minute trip, he thinks. No time to gather up many weapons. Flashes of scarlet and white sharpen into five riders in armor galloping straight toward them.
"Stand back," Swan orders them in a hushed voice. She should know better by now. Everyone edges closer to her, huddling together. The riders stop and the first one smiles down at them with a confident nod. Something about the way he carries himself makes it far too apparent the man is blissfully unaware of how jittery he looks.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" Swan addresses them. Unabashedly congenial in spite of her tone, the man's eyes perform a passing scan of them.
"I'm King Arthur of Camelot," the man says with the rich baritone of a king. "We've come to find you."
"Find us?" Killian asks. No offense to His Majesty, but in the last few years, no one ever determined to find any of them arrived with anything positive to share.
"My Lord, they think their arrival is a surprise," one of the knights next to him says in clear amusement. Even this King Arthur purses his lips to stifle a laugh. Killian straightens his back. If they intend to dismiss him as some foreign exchange jester, he'll just demand to see some kingly credentials. Although, he thinks, eyeing the entourage and the banners, if this Arthur is some sort of imposter, at least he possesses some style.
"You were expecting us?" Snow asks.
"It was Merlin. He prophesied your coming here a long time, just as he prophesied many things."
"Merlin," Swan breathes. At last, a repreive, he thinks with a deep exhale. If Merlin foresaw their coming, he could already have a plan on how to extract the Darkness out of her. "Where is he? We were told that he's been missing."
"For years, yes," Arthur nods, everything so far so matter-of-fact, according to plan. Killian decides that's a good thing. For now. Possibly. Depending on the nature of Merlin's disappearance. "But not for much longer because according to his prophecy, you're destined to reunite him with us. Now then, if you'll all follow me..."
"Where?" she asks.
"Why, Camelot, of course."
"If they were expecting us, you'd think they'd have brought a carriage or two," Leroy huffs to Snow as she takes Neal back from one of the dwarves.
"Hush!" she hisses at him.
Swan's hand curls around his arm, linking them together and leading their rather motley procession, her eyes fixed on Zelena. Robin leads her out unbound. Just as well, he decides. The fewer things to arouse questions from Arthur, the better.
"Have you heard of him?" Swan murmurs to him as they follow the knights, now on foot, leading their horses back.
"No, love. What do the stories from your world say?"
"I'm not the expert. Henry's the one that likes watching Merlin. But I do know that Merlin is always King Arthur's advisor and King Arthur is...a nice guy, I guess."
"Seems like a waste of power," he scoffs. Then he relaxes his gait, his stride a steady amble. She's here. They're touching and back to trading speculations about the newcomers around them as if nothing had happened. She can overcome this. She's always been so strong. Grinning at her, he nudges her slightly. "How long do you think it will take His Majesty to figure out how everyone's related?"
Swan laughs. "We should just leave Zelena as Regina's sister and nothing more. A reclusive one, you know. So we don't have to force her to tag along all the time. Then, with any luck, we find Merlin and get this done so we can go back and help Merida before we leave." She sighs and rests her head on his shoulder briefly before speeding up their pace.
"What is it?"
"Just..." she trails off and tucks her chin in, blushing. Laughing at herself, she glances behind them at the rest of their party, everyone else speaking in hushed tones as well. "They all came for me."
"And there was no stopping us."
"You found me," she says, clutching him tighter.
The journey to Camelot feels like a moment out of time, everything slowed so he can savor every second. He doesn't feel the Darkness polluting her blood and rushing toward her heart. He doesn't feel her eyes hardening or the cogs and gears in her brain reworking themselves to fit its desires. She's just Emma Swan and all the marvelous things that go along with that.
Trumpets herald the king's return as they come upon a colossal stone castle with a golden front door that must have taken decades to construct. They cross a bridge leading to all the streamers and turrets, the sight imposing enough for both of them to interlock their fingers, each reassuring the other all of this can only be a good sign.
A/N: Thanks again to the lovely OnceSnow for editing. Happy early Thanksgiving. I know you guys were anxious for an update. There is just a lot to cover with this arc and I'm positive there will be for 5B, too. Thankfully, since it reminds me of Season 3 in a lot of ways, I am 100% sure we will get a phenomenal payoff...and I might foreshadow it a bit here and there. Coming up? You'll see how Hook gets his Camelot outfit.
