A/N: I've seen a few interpretations of Hook's character for this story arc, primarily the theory that since he says in this episode that his unfinished business is specifically helping Emma defeat Hades, he therefore never had any intention of going back with her. I don't see it that way because that interpretation sort of forgets about the lesson he learns in this episode about being less hard on himself and that he deserves love and a chance to be rescued. He says at the end of the episode he fully intends to have a future, seeing it (among other things) as a way to honor Liam's sacrifice. So I'm not writing this arc with him "playing" Emma and the others; he is sincerely fighting for a way to go home with them. It's not until "Firebird" when he realizes Emma WON'T LEAVE him that he changes his goal to just getting her out of there for her own good as well as the good of her family and Storybrooke.


"Liam?" He says it again, just...just because he hasn't said anything to him for so long. Clasping hands first, they each try to pull the other into a crushing hug, finally giving up and simply throwing their arms around each other. Liam smells of the sea, as always, and clean linens, and suddenly Killian feels like a small child again. But it doesn't pack the same punch as it did before when everyone crowded around him and fussed over him. Now? Now he's safe, he thinks, closing his eyes tightly and biting his lip. Now someone can guide him.

"It's been so long," Liam sighs, his voice shaking. Pulling away, Killian can see the faintest glimmer of a tear in his brother's eye. "Incredibly long. Where have you been? What all happened to you?"

Almost laughing, Killian takes a step backward. Raising his eyebrow at him, he licks his lips and shrugs.

"I..." Locking eyes with Emma as he shuffles, he notices her tentative smile. Offering her his hand, he leads her back over to the two of them. "Emma, this is Liam."

Of course. Of course Liam kisses her hand when he's been introduced to her. That's the gentlemanly way to do it, taking her hand and brushing one's lips against her soft skin. Not tying a scarf around it and knotting it off with his teeth, completely transfixed on her, wishing you were tasting her and not the cloth...

"I've heard a lot of great things about you," Emma says, her mouth alternating between smiling and remaining tight-lipped. She sways a bit, like he's introducing them on a deck amidst a stiff gale rather than in, well, their house. Liam cocks his head and beams at her, so nervous, wanting to make a good impression.

"Where are my manners?" Liam clears his throat. "I need to express my condolences. To lose both of you at the same time as well as your children—the rest of your family must be devastated."

"Wait, what?" Killian blurts after a long pause. From the corner of his eye, he watches Emma's eyelashes flutter a mile a minute like they used to whenever he'd unnerved her. Furrowing his brow, Liam appears to be dazed as well.

"I...well, you're both here, and, forgive me, all the toys..." he trails off and gestures with his entire arm at the animal parade on the staircase.

"No, I'm alive, Killian's not," Emma clarifies, touching his arm, her fingers lingering. "But hopefully we'll fix that soon."

"Then..." Liam nods back at the toys.

"Yeah, no idea why those are there," Emma says quickly, shuffling behind him back in the direction of the kitchen. "I was just making some hot chocolate, so why don't you guys sit down? Catch up? It's got to feel like forever since you've seen each other's faces."

"Not sure there was anything to miss when it comes to mine, eh, little brother?" Liam quips, winking at Killian. He can't help but grin.

"Apart from the 'little brother' comments?" Killian teases back, trying to conjure up something clever, although he never quite matched Liam in wit. He motions for him to sit down, not in front of the crib, but further back, in the smaller sitting room. Emma hesitates, then retreats back into the kitchen.

"Where have you been all this time?" Liam asks as he takes a seat. A bit darker, this room doesn't boast as high a number of toys as the others. "It's been three hundred years at least."

"Neverland."

"Neverland? Oh, Killian, you didn't. Whatever price you had to pay to keep your youth certainly wasn't worth it. Trapped on that gods-forsaken island with that devil boy..."

"I went there willingly," Killian explains, knowing he's started in the middle. So much to cover, and he'd be a liar if he didn't confess to mentally rehearsing for this very moment, but the dialogues in his head always ended in shame: Captain Liam Jones so repulsed, he could do nothing but abandon him.

"After we went to Neverland together, I had a ship and a crew but couldn't bring myself to serve the king."

Liam understands his meaning, tilting his chin up. "You became a pirate."

"Aye. They served me well, Liam. You would have been proud. They followed me to Neverland even after the Dark One killed the woman I loved."

"But Emma said she was alive?"

"I loved another before her."

"Is she here, too?" Liam asks. Swallowing, Killian burns a hole into the hardwood floor with his eyes. He'd never even had the chance to see Milah, just as he'd never had the chance to say goodbye when she was alive.

"She's a Lost Soul now," he murmurs, setting his hook atop Liam's hand when his brother takes hold of his own. "The fiend took her life and my hand, and I swore revenge. I gave up on myself. I became someone you would have despised. After many years, I left Neverland, went back to the Enchanted Forest, and that's when Emma happened along."

"You two must have quite a few adventures together," Liam says.

"While I wanted only my revenge, she was only ever trying to help her loved ones." Memories flood his mind of their time climbing the beanstalk, when he'd seen the hesitant but still-strong love she had for her mother, the single-minded commitment to her son. "We eventually went back to Neverland to save her child and since then, well..." He laughs. "Dangers flock to her like moths to a flame. She's the Savior."

"The Savior?" Eyes widening, Liam edges forward in his seat. "You mean the one prophecy says will bring everyone their happy endings?"

"You know of it?"

"Everyone knows of it. Even here in the Underworld, where hope is in short supply, stories travel." Letting out a low whistle, Liam chuckles. "Luck would point you to the Savior."

"The Savior, the sheriff, the princess, and every other wonderful thing you can think of," he says, laughing at his own choice of words. How surreal, talking to Liam about Emma, especially after all that's happened.

"Then it would seem one of your adventures got the better of you," Liam interrupts his reverie, a look of overwhelming concern washing over his face.

"You have no idea," he sighs. "The Darkness was freed from its human tether and would have consumed the entire world, but Emma volunteered herself to hold it inside her. I stayed with her, tried to dispatch of every adversary that could compromise her, but in the end...what compromised her was me."

"She used her dark powers to save you," Liam concluded with a thoughtful nod. Leaning back, he set his chin into his hand, blinking a couple of times.

"I didn't fight it for nearly as long as she did. I sank into Darkness quicker than if I'd been tangled in the rigging of a sinking ship. It was thoughts of her, and you, and everything I'd been through that made me decide I didn't want to live like that anymore. I fought back, thinking I'd ended the Darkness for good, and the next thing I know, I'm here, there is the same Dark One as there was at the beginning of my quest, and Emma..." Back to the crux of the whole ordeal, he thinks, shaking his head as he stares at the wall in front of them.

"What?"

"Emma's brought her entire family here in hopes of getting me out of here."

Liam sits in silence, hands on knees now, contemplating all this, so Killian just stares at him, wondering if his brother will lecture him, remind him of what a disappointment he'd turned out to be. How he doesn't deserve for everyone to be risking life and limb for him. His heel bouncing on the floor, Killian tears his eyes from Liam to look back toward the front of the house.

"I'm going to see if Emma needs help," he says, almost trotting off to the kitchen. She's left them alone on purpose—that much is clear, and he would find it a kind gesture if she hadn't looked so nervous earlier. She should be meeting the man, too, maybe listening to some wisdom about focusing on a way for her to leave rather than a way for him to leave.

Opening his mouth, he clamps it shut at the sight of her waving her hand at the three mugs on the counter in disgust. In an instant, they disappear from the counter and end up clanging against each other in the basin.

"I spilled his and put in way too much cinnamon," she mutters a little absently to herself. Shaking her head, she finds three more glasses and fills them with ordinary water from the bas—sink. It's a sink.

"Are you all right?" he asks.

"I should be asking that of you," she says, handing him a glass. Scurrying back to the other two, she snatches one up and takes a hearty swig. "What's it like? Seeing him again?"

"Well...to tell you the truth, whenever I thought about him being dead, I-I imagined him somewhere a little more...cheerful than here. If Liam has unfinished business, then it's a good bet every single person who's ever died does as well."

She casts her eyes down at the floor, swallowing and tilting her head mid-shake, the notion upsetting her more than he'd intended.

"Yeah, well...if you want to spend some time with him, I can meet up with my parents and the others while you guys...I don't know, have a Guy's Night or something, although Purgatory booze can't be very good." Snapping her head back in his direction, she smiles and gives herself a reassuring nod. "Let's not have him in there sitting by himself. Maybe we can help him while we're here." Forcing her teeth together in a nervous smile, she adds slowly, "Before we go home."

Before he can answer her, Emma picks up the third glass and moves past him into the sitting room.

"Sorry about the wait," he hears her address Liam. "I'm not used to entertaining. Would you like some water? I think it would be a good idea if we all compared notes."

"I agree." Killian smiles, savoring the sounds of the two of them moving throughout the house. Had someone told him when he'd first arrived in Storybrooke that he, Emma, and Liam would be gathered around a kitchen table together, he'd have run them through for sheer cheek. Sipping the water, Liam inhales and regards his surroundings for a beat.

"So, Emma, Killian says this place you come from is fraught with danger."

Chuckling, Emma shrugs, blushing all the way down her neck. "You give it a week or so, you hardly notice. Smells better than down here does, anyway."

"I've smelled worse," Liam assures her.


"Those fish guts smell particularly foul this evening," he remarks, leaning back from his work to shake some sweat from his hair. The crew normally avoids them like they're plague rats, but tonight, after a full month at sea, the raucous sailors laugh and ignore them entirely. One inebriated clod comes close to stepping on Liam's scrubbing brush.

"Come on, Killian," Liam sighs. "The harder we work, the sooner we're finished."

"I wish I had your work ethic. Seems I inherited Father's." If he ever, ever sees that monster again, he knows just what he'll do. In his darker moments, he's imagined it with such a vivid fluidity it feels at times as though it's already happened—sword right into Brennan Jones' gut, twisting the blade, worming it through until it punches out the other side.

But is that the man you want to be, a voice inside him always asks, and tonight is no exception. Sipping some rum from his flask, he glares down at the soapy deck he and Liam have been scrubbing for the last two hours. Forbidden from going ashore and partaking in what Killian could only assume is the most drunken debauchery the port town has ever seen, he had busied himself with vague plans for a future. Nothing definite, just a life without having to take orders to avoid a lash. One adventure after another, as happy as can be because...because...well, he didn't know all the particulars just yet, but maybe if he gave it some time...

"Don't joke about that bastard," Liam chides him, suddenly looking over his shoulder. He reaches into his vest in a conspiratorial way. "He may have sold us into servitude, but tomorrow...we'll be free men."

Passing a parchment to him, Killian feels Liam's gaze on him as he reads. Ah, a naval commission. Liam's dream. And, since whatever seemed to be calling him across distance and time hadn't really announced itself in a clear way...it was also Killian's dream by extension. But that's the thing about dreams, he thinks, tensing his fingers to keep from flinging the parchment away—even the best ones prove terrifying up close.

"Are you serious? You want to join the King's Navy?"

"There's a signing bonus of ten silver. On top of what we've already saved, that will buy us our freedom off this bloody cargo ship."

"I know that's your dream, mate," Killian sighs, handing back the parchment. "But I'm hardly naval material." He resumes swabbing the deck.

"If you served an honorable king, it would change you," Liam argues. Ha. As if royalty gave a bloody damn about anyone. Liam might have felt pangs of...not jealousy, per se, when the royal warships would go by, but his eyes would drink in the sight. A dying man in a desert couldn't look at water more lustfully. "You could be a fine captain someday. I know it."

Chuckling, Killian pauses in his work. That sailing came easy to him was no surprise; it was in his blood and years of serving on ships was more than adequate experience for a perceptive young lad, but he'd also discovered he had a flair for navigation. Learning his way around a sword had come so naturally to him their previous captain had posted guards in front of a closet that served as an armory in case the Jones brothers were feeling rash and decided to mutiny. The strategy of outrunning pirate ships, skill remembering faces as well as names, and a slight propensity for selfishness—perhaps one day he'd be a captain worthy of the storybooks.

"'Captain Jones' does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he laughs.

"Ha! 'Captain Jones?' That'll be the day." Captain Silver, the latest scourge of their lives. A private conversation between deckhands couldn't even survive in the man's presence. Cold and—on more than one occasion—careless with the ship, Silver took more delight in the power that came with being a captain. He whipped men for no reason, and, as Killian had learned from watching many a master, there existed a fine line between inspiring fear and inspiring murder.

Case in point—Silver had just kicked over another bucket of fish pieces, so bony and rancid the sharks wouldn't even want them.

"You missed a spot there," Silver taunts.

Killian could handle it being spilled where he was working. But Liam had finished that area of the deck. Standing, he rushes forth, only for Liam to restrain him.

"Killian! Don't."

"Come on," Silver goads, taking off his hat. "Let him try. It must be exhausting, protecting your little brother from himself."

Killian Jones has no need for protecting. What he needs is for his hands to stop smelling like rot. What he needs is more calluses from climbing the rigging rather than scalding water. What he needs is one less captain trying to make a mockery of him. Gods, he tries to decipher what the wind carries his way, listens for where it's directing him to go, but if it should listen to the likes of Silver first, his true purpose probably won't even want him when the time does come.

"Won't be your concern much longer," Liam says, gently pushing Killian back.

"Because you're both going to be admirals in the Navy, right? Fine by me. Long as I get paid." What an ass. "The sober Jones can go and collect his money. The drunk one stays as collateral."

Drunk? Drunk? Bloody hell, he'll show him drunk. It takes more than a sip for him to slur his words, much less stagger. He starts for him again, only for Liam to hold him off.

"Easy, brother," he murmurs to him. "I'll be back by sunrise, and then? A proud life in the King's Navy, hmm?"

With more than a bit of reluctance, Killian nods, and watches his brother go, the sinking feeling of loneliness bearing down on him so hard and fast he wonders if he really is a little drunk.


The three of them drink in silence for a minute, each one looking at the other, but in markedly different ways. Liam has only smiles for him, delighted, proud ones Killian had always yearned for, but he notices they take on a more formal context where Emma is concerned. For her part, Emma remains pleasant, but more demure than usual. Not that Swan becomes an absolute shrew when company is concerned, but something has disquieted her, and so he chooses to believe it's that she's nervous and nothing more. It's only fair, he argues with an imagined exaggeration of Emma. He's met her parents, son, step-grandmother, former lover, former lover's father...a single sibling is child's play compared to the frenzied scribbles that make up her family tree.

"Thank you for the drink, Emma," Liam says, a bit absently. His fingers trace the rim of the glass. "There's been talk of more people crossing over. I can only assume you and your party are responsible for that?"

"Well, people are responsible for themselves, but, well, we've all lost a lot of people over time," she says, recovering with a smile. "Whatever they've done, I still don't think they have a fair shot at doing anything about it while a guy like Hades is in charge."

"You're right about that," Liam says with a nod. "Hades has a non-existent approval rating and yet everyone here feels powerless against him."

"Liam, what about you? Why are you down here?" Killian finally asks.

"I wish I knew. I spent countless years trying to figure out a reason."

Well, that decides that. If Liam can't find peace, no one can.

"There is no reason," Killian assures him and Emma, who seems to be mustering up confidence, but also trust. He can't dwell on that now. What they need now is a plan. "Hades has the game rigged so no one can leave. My brother's proof of that. Never did a bad thing in his life. He even died nobly, stopping a treacherous king from poisoning the realm."

"Stop it. You're making me blush."

"Hades has you two trapped down here, and that cannot stand." He wishes he could stop looking over at Emma with the corner of his eye. She flinches, well aware he did not include himself. He may deserve his fate, but she and Liam most certainly do not. "The only way everyone will get free is if we defeat Hades once and for all. Liam, you've been down here a very long time. Surely you must know something that can help us."

Tracing the rim of his glass with his fingers, Liam ponders, looking so wise. He'll know what to do.

"I know this is a very dangerous game you're playing," he finally says. "There are those who tried to overthrow Hades before. They always spoke of a-a book, which had the power to defeat him. I tried to find it myself, but I'm not even sure what to look for."

"I think it's a storybook," Emma says, at the edge of her seat. Good. He's not the only one who had been on that train of thought. Everything else here seems modeled after Storybrooke. It stands to reason the book would be here, too.

"Oh, I wager it would take more than stories," Liam begins.

"No, no, no, she's onto something," Killian interrupts. How does one begin to explain a book in the possession of a child—who is also the latest Author—meant to record the lives of everyone in an entire town? "In our world, there's a book like this."

"Everything up there has a version down here. There has to be one in the Underworld," Emma elaborates. Well, that is about as concise an explanation as one can hope for.

"If there's a story in that book about Hades, we can learn his weakness and exploit it." He watches Liam. It must sound like complete drivel to someone who has been gone for so long. Most people would scoff at the very idea and be on their way.

"All right," Liam decides. "If you believe in this, Killian, I'm with you. To the end. This fiend has trapped me and tortured you. The day you push your sailors too far-"

"Is the day mutiny begins," Killian finishes for him, grinning.

"Exactly." Returning the grin, Liam stands up and claps his hands together. "Well then, where should we start looking for this book? What's it look like?"

Emma jumps to her feet and weaves past them to the door in one movement, gesturing with her hands all the while. "It's about this big, brown, the words '
Once Upon a Time' in gold letters on the front. Killian, you know where the apartment is. I'll go on ahead if you and your brother still want to catch up."

She doesn't wait for a verbal agreement, he notices, bustling out the door. For a split second, she turns back and frowns over at him. Before he can even react, however, she's too far out of reach.

"Come on, Liam." They rush down the front steps together, smiling at the momentous occasion. The Jones brothers on a quest. The sooner they reach the apartment, the sooner Liam can meet everyone, joining them in defeating villains and saving the town... "Maybe we'll finally catch some luck and Henry will have already found the thing."

"Henry? Is that Emma's father?"

He doesn't mean to laugh. He really doesn't. It's just...Liam mentioning Henry's name and trying to tie him to Swan and her frenzied scribbles of a family tree. Waves of defensiveness had washed over him at the table every time he watched her trying to not look like she was on her guard. Here he'd been practically bombarded by her parents, her son, her step-grandmother, her former lover, her former lover's father...a single sibling should be child's play.

"No, sorry. He's her son. Thirteen years old."

"She has a son?"

"Yes, but don't worry. Lots of people do," he jokes, widening his stride and hurrying on his way to the apartment. David will like Liam right away, although he'll pretend not to. Stubborn asses, the pair of them. They'll be inseparable by the time it's all over. And he's positive Regina will make some quip that Emma should have gotten together with the more handsome of the two. And then...and then what? Once they defeat Hades, Liam will have no need to be here. No one will. Not even himself.

"Just-just let me be sure I'm understanding everything," Liam begins, his hands up with his palms showing. "Emma made you a Dark One, ended you, and is down here with her own son looking for you?"

"She found me already."

"You know what I mean. Is-is..."

"Spill it, Liam."

"Is everything all right between you?" He asks it as if "all right" could quite possibly be the most reprehensible thing in the whole world.

"I know what you're getting at."

"Do you?" Liam snaps at him. Holding out his arm, he motions for Killian to halt, and he does so. "Killian, don't get me wrong—I'm happy we're together again, but this is not how I imagined your eventual death would be. I was expec—hoping you would find peace, died an old man, had a few great-grandchildren mourning you. I mean, I hear that 'Captain Hook is finally dead' and not only find out he's my little brother, but that he's holed up in some house with a strange woman and her whole entire entourage?"

"She means well, Liam. I'm fully aware Captain Hook is the last person who deserves saving." Swallowing, he closes his eyes at the fact he's stated it out loud. Unfinished business. If he does end up staying here, with or without Hades, he wonders just how long it will take to find out what it is he needs to do to finish it.

"Don't talk like that," Liam says, his tone softer now. Holding his arm, his hand drifts down and takes hold of his hook. "Don't allow yourself to be less than what you are. No matter what anyone else might have persuaded you to think," he adds.


Greetings at the apartment take on a surreal quality. Snow, David, and Regina shake hands with Liam and quickly explain that Robin is over to the library to make sure the book isn't stashed there while Henry still hasn't returned from wherever he's disappeared to, putting off starting a search party until everyone else was together. With any luck, they can find the book and formulate a plan and find Henry at the same time.

"I'm sorry. It's just you look an awful lot like-" Liam starts when he glances over at David for the hundredth time.

"The sheriff. I know. He's my twin brother," David apologizes.

Ah, the infamous Prince James. Thief, liar, all-around cad, from the sounds of it.

"The closet!" Snow gasps after Liam summarizes their talk in the kitchen.

"On it," David calls over his shoulder as he rushes to the closet. Returning with a wooden box, he sets it on the table and steps aside, eager for Snow to do the honors.

"In the world above, this is where I found the storybook, so..." she trails off eagerly, lifting the lid and sorting through the trinkets. They all lean forward, but to no avail.

"Sorry." Snow gives them a crestfallen expression.

"Are we really surprised?" Regina wonders out loud. "That book is the embodiment of hope, and there's not a lot of that here in the Underworld." He should have warned Liam the Queen could be abrasive, but also right. They shouldn't have assumed it would be so easy.

"Let's keep looking," David suggests.

Killian starts for the sitting area, the least private part of the loft minus the kitchen, which Regina has already claimed. Hearing Emma rush up the stairs and Snow and David fumbling around underneath their bed and in the bathroom, he opens the cupboards below the television set, goes onto his hand and knees to peer under the sofa. Liam follows Emma up to her bed, so he won't crowd them. They need some time to get to know one another, he decides. Once Liam sees her in action, all his reservations will disappear.

Lost in thought, he realizes he's been pacing around, not looking anywhere else. Bloody hell. Scrutinizing the space, he winces at Henry's backpack on the coffee table. Blast it, he's never liked the idea of rummaging through the boy's things, even when in dire straits, but wouldn't the book gravitate toward Henry anyway? No matter what precautions Hades might have taken with it? There can't be a book without an Author.

My apologies, lad, he thinks, unzipping the thing and dumping the contents onto the table. Of course the folders and maps—how resourceful of Henry—don't leave room for the massive storybook. It's hidden then, somewhere in this realm.

Hearing footsteps, he snaps his head around and sees Liam descend the staircase with a sober look on his face. It's odd he doesn't wait for Emma, a few steps behind, dawdling on the last ones. She stops and locks eyes with him, and Killian can see the red rims in them, the bags forming. When was the last time she'd slept? But there's something else. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she looked absolutely gutted.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, fine. Let's keep looking," she says, dusting herself off and crossing over to the kitchen.

Wonderful. She's lying about something. Fighting with himself whether he should concentrate on a new way to find the book to lift her spirits or pull her aside and ask again if she's all right, he goes rigid at the door opening. If it's Rumpelstiltskin, maybe at least there will be news of a way to get everyone out of here, and—gods, what is the world coming to—he'd much prefer to see the Crocodile come through the door than Hades, but he breathes a sigh of relief that it's Henry.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asks anyone willing to answer.

"Oh, looking for the storybook. You know—Underworld Edition," Snow attempts a casual tone.

"Really? Well, I think I might know exactly where it is."

Everyone stops and turns toward Henry.

"How would you know that?" David asks. Ease up, David. He's a clever lad, always has been.

"The Apprentice." Killian hadn't expected that answer, but a discovery is a discovery. "I saw him at...at Granny's."

Oh, so everyone's lying today, he thinks, rolling his eyes. He may not have a superpower, but he's watched Swan, been on the receiving end of her suspicions, and he's learned a few things to watch for when it comes to lies. Unsurprisingly, she and her offspring are no good at actually committing the deed themselves.

"He said the Sorcerer's mansion is down here and there's a bunch of stuff inside, like the storybook," he continues. Killian supposes the truth of how Henry came by such information can wait.

"Finally, some good news!" Regina breathes.

"Well, sort of," Henry clarifies. "The house is locked with magic and the sheriff has the key."

"Your evil twin is the sheriff," Killian notes. "Hades has panache, I'll give him that."

"Well, it's time for my brother and me to have an overdue chat."

"Well, you won't be alone," Snow snaps. "I still owe him a punch in his pretty mouth for kissing me."

"He kissed you?" David barks, and, ordinarily, Killian would quip that that are far worse things than a kiss, but when it comes to a dead evil twin seemingly enjoying his time in the Underworld, he's inclined to keep his mouth shut on this one.

"Thought it was you," she huffs on her way out the door.

"Let's go!" David explodes, following her out, ready to draw blood, apparently.

"In the meanwhile, we should all go about our usual business," Liam suggests with that classic military air that Killian's relieved never left him. "Hades has eyes everywhere. We can't have him learning what we're up to."

"Fine plan," Killian agrees. "Can't wait to see the look on his face when he learns a valuable lesson—one should never mess with the Brothers Jones."

Wordlessly, Liam moves toward him and embraces him once again, returning the sentiment. Forming a fist, Killian tightens his arms around him, closing his eyes so tightly to savor the moment he can feel tears forming.

"I have to go back to work. Don't come see me there. Here." He pulls a pen and a scrap piece of paper from the kitchen counter. "When you're ready to search, call this number. It's to a pub here, rather seedy. Unless you like cockroaches. Just say you're ready, and I'll find you."

"Okay, what's wrong?" Regina suddenly asks Henry as they all usher Liam to the door. She ignores the lad's embarrassed look. "This is about the time when you would suggest we all synchronize watches or something."

"Henry?" Emma tries to capture his attention. Blushing even harder, Henry backs away.

"I'm fine. I'm going to see if Robin needs any help and then I'll just join up with you when Grandma and Grandpa say we're good to go."

After Liam waves goodbye to him, Killian notices that Regina is looking over at Emma, wanting a motherly comparison of Henry's cold shoulder to them. Emma doesn't catch it, though. She's staring at the closed door looking like she'd enjoy burning a hole through it.

Absolutely gutted.


A/N: Coming up? Liam does a big no-no to the book.