Chapter Four

The Savior Laid to Rest

Dawn broke and sunshine spread across the sea. The waters were calm from David's perspective, sitting on a weathered wood dock. He reached over for his wife's hand. "Are you alright?"

"Where are... we…? What happened?"

Their short-term memories were as clear as the horizon. Everything from discovering Emma's body to her funeral- gone.

On a nearby dock at this unfamiliar marina, their older friend, affectionately called Granny, sat and clutched their crying baby to her chest. "How's Neal?"

"Heavier! He's- look, he's a lot bigger than - just a few moments ago!"

Everyone else who had joined their quest to Camelot rose from where they sat or lay, sore and confused. The houseboats in this marina, the street lights posted along the docks and a gravel road- it looked like they were back in the modern Land Without Magic! They wore their modern day clothes that they'd left Storybrooke in. David and his wife, Snow White, resumed their roles as de facto Sheriff and assistant Mayor in the Land Without Magic, and made an announcement about how their quest to eliminate the Dark One must have hit a magical bump in the road, but they would find a way to scour their memories, and this place, for the answers.

Lily Anderson and Will Scarlet shook the dizziness from their heads, and stood from the place the cyclone or curse or portal had dropped them.

"What happened?" asked Lily, the tan, disheveled dragon-woman.

"Who knows, love. We both knew going towards that magical cyclone was a long shot," said Will, ever the outcast at the edge of the crowd of fairy tale characters. "We made it to Camelot though!" They remembered nothing further than their arrival there. "I'll find out what I can, from what people are saying. I'll call you when I know something." The two exchanged phone numbers, and Will took off abruptly to weave through the crowd and get the word on the street.

Lily had thought they were close—she tried to blow off her friend's casual attitude. Anything could have happened between them, in the whirl of events that brought them back to this modern day land. She set off to rejoin her mother, Maleficent, and let her know she was OK—as far as she knew. Between a magical trip to another realm, a little forest reconnaissance around a beautiful castle, and plans to interview people of Camelot to find out about other dragons—something must have happened to bring them back here, with magic.

Captain Hook beamed at the sight of the Jolly Roger in the harbor, and, to hide his jubilation in a time of crisis, took off from the heroes to have a look around. "I did it!" he whispered to himself. Two-story storefronts with fading paint faced the lone dirt street that met the gravel road to the marina. A boating supplies store, bait shop, a ways down the road, a water treatment facility... One road led to the familiar site of Storybrooke, and past a great view of the rocky beach where Emma had said she used to spend time with her boy. Granny's diner had made it- in its new location, the patio had a great view of the harbor. There were alleys lined with parked cars- new Lincoln town cars and old, revamped Volkswagen bugs! Trucks with boat trailers in the public parking lot! There was a large wooden sign with words carved and painted that surprised Hook: 'Welcome to East Storybrooke.'

He ran back to the newly cursed crowd to catch all the conversations about where Emma might be, and what might have happened to them.

"Hook!" cried out Emma's parents. "What do you remember?"

"Ah, well, we were all walking through a forest… it was afternoon… we were following King Arthur and his knights, to a glorious castle! And… uh..." he let the Charmings conclude that no memories existed after that.

"And now we're here- wherever here is," Snow White said, looking around.

"Here-is 'East Storybrooke,'" Hook informed them, with a raised eyebrow and a grin. "I don't know if it's new… or if there was always this quaint suburb… but there's cars, I saw one of them with the keys on the seat- and a gas station just over there! Let's get our bearings, shall we?"

"Oh- uh, do any of the cars you saw have a car seat?" Snow asked, as she shifted her healthy, hefty baby in her arms.

"Hey, you have- both hands!"

Kilian checked the others' gazes, wondering how much attention he dare draw to himself. He felt hyper aware, bursting with power, trying to cautiously contain it. He could hear a conversation that was a couple groups of people away- Regina was speaking to Robin Hood, warily, about how this must be the result of a dark curse. "How else would an entirely new town spring up," she was saying, "in a different realm than where we were? I know the smell of a Dark Curse- it smells of… trite stereotypes and a fresh new start, for someone…"

Hook nervously explained, "I think Emma somehow used magic to restore my hand. I have the vaguest recollection- we were staying with the king in Camelot, and she healed people, including me." He led Mr. and Mrs. Prince Charming toward the black Lincoln he had his eye on. "I can't place what happened before or after that." He conjured up a car seat in the back before they got there.

"It makes sense that you might have more of your memories than everyone else- just like when Snow cast the Curse that recreated Storybrooke, and you escaped it, "Charming said.

Hook sat in the driver's seat as Snow fiddled with the car seat for Neal. He was working this through in his mind.

"Do you mean… you mean Emma would have used her magic to preserve some of my memories for me- but none for her family, mate?"

"I don't know. What I mean is… You're important to Emma, and just like you found her in New York… you're destined to find her."

The Charmings shared a loving look.

A man on a motorcycle drove up and met them on the road. A man that Emma had introduced Hook to, because he had been like an older brother to her, but he knew so little else about him. Was he the one who'd taught her to see through lies? Would he see through Hook's lies?

"Pinocchio!" Snow called out happily.

"Hey, you're back! And you brought a new town with you?" he looked around the one-street town and whistled in astonishment. "Pops and I heard this huge crash-trees falling, and there was a dust storm earlier-I had to come check it out." He nodded at Granny's Diner. "- Now, there's a sight for sore eyes! Boy everybody missed that place. And- you guys too. Where else can you get comfort food and booze, any time of day?"

Pinocchio took off his helmet as he parked at the diner, fully expecting to see his old friend Emma inside. He had cared for her when she was a baby, brought her to a nursery, looked in on her as she grew up, and had every intention of guiding her towards the light as they both grew and matured. Of course it hadn't really worked out that way. But he was sure they would still be friends, whether she was the reluctant hero breaking curses or the new Dark One, as one of his mentors, the Blue Fairy, said. She was still Emma.

Pinocchio walked into confusion and chaos. Regina and Henry were encouraging everyone who had been on the quest to the other realm to check under tables, in cabinets, behind clocks and picture frames, looking for something. Robin Hood was distributing cell phones, backpacks and other personal belongings, found in the back of the kitchen.

"Where's Emma?" Pinocchio asked Sneezy the dwarf. "You all have been gone 6 weeks- did you remove the Dark One curse? Or not?"

"I think Snow and Charming went to look for her," Sneezy said in his low, congested voice.

"Six weeks!" Grumpy exclaimed. "We all only remember a day! And in that day… Dark Emma gave her precious dagger to the Queen..."

"Where is it?" Regina demanded of everyone. "Where would I have hidden it?"

Pinocchio pieced it all together: The Dark One dagger controlled the Dark One. If she gave it to Regina for safekeeping, and Regina no longer had it, then someone else was controlling the Dark One-and could have forced her to magically transport them here and take all the questers' memories, so they couldn't even begin to fight back! Or, the Dark One herself had it back, and did this to hide from her family and friends, perhaps out of shame… shame from changing, and disappointing them. Or- worst of all- someone had the dagger because they'd killed Emma with it. Then there'd be a new Dark One. Pinocchio, feeling weak, sat down in a booth at this, his favorite restaurant. A booth that 13-year-old Henry happened to be searching over, trying to pry open the cushion from the seat, frustrated.

"Hey Kid," Pinocchio said, "how was your trip?"

Henry rolled his eyes and said, "It was a trip alright."

Pinocchio said, "Hey, I swear you're taller since I last saw you. And- listen, one author to another, if you search deep enough within you you'll find those stories... even the story that seems to be missing, maybe it will come back to you- in dreams. Or, if you try to write about it." Henry paused and considered. His adopted mother Regina marched over looking sharply between the two of them. She had never trusted Pinocchio ever since he had ridden into her little town originally under the pseudonym August Booth.

"Say, Mom?" Henry said, breaking the ice, "have you tried-" Regina interrupted him with gentle hands moving over his shoulders and arms.

"No, Henry," she said, "a locator spell would not work on something as powerful as the Dark One's dagger. It would surely protect itself…"

Belle overheard them talking as she gathered up her bag with her telltale bell jar, and some books that must have come with them from Camelot. She was about to leave, giving up on this fruitless team search of the diner, but interjected, "You know there is something that would quickly point out where that dagger is. I've used it before and if it works, will give us a clue as to where Emma is."

"Oh? Well, what is it?" Regina asked. Belle flushed at the sudden awkwardness of all the attention in the room on her. She walked out the front door knowing Regina would follow.

"Do you want my help?" Belle said quietly over her shoulder. "You have to at least apologize for what you did."

Regina stood on the steps and shrugged exasperatedly, "What part?" Belle turned around and looked at her sadly, holding her hand over her heart. She did not believe that Regina already forgot using her as a pawn to manipulate her husband, the former Dark One. It still stung, knowing that Regina had ripped out her heart as a little insurance for her and Emma's trip to New York. Then she'd been instructed to forget her heart being taken from her body. It had been returned to her after Regina got back from New York, for all that mattered to Regina was stopping her nemesis, Rumpelstiltskin, from interfering in her plans. Belle still didn't know the totality of what she'd been forced to do while Regina had controlled her heart.

"You came with us to Camelot-to be a hero, right?" Regina asked.

"Yeah?"

"We have something in common then. We went to find and help Emma Swan- that's what we're doing now. You and I will continue to have common goals, as long as we're both trying to do something heroic for our friends-for our family. For Henry. And we have more power and resources when we work together, wouldn't you agree?"

"That's not an apology! I'm going to just use that gauntlet without you!"

"Gauntlet?"

Pinocchio strode out of the diner, down the steps and hopped on his bike. "Say-miss? Is she bothering you? Do you want a ride into Storybrooke?"

Belle hesitated.

Regina blurted out, "I'm sorry I violated your- uh-"

Belle decisively shifted her short skirt down a bit, and hopped on the back of the motorcycle, with her bag slung across her shoulders and her arms around a stranger. "Yes, please-I'm Belle Gold."

"Pleasure. I'm August Booth." The writer and the librarian took off, back to the fairytale town and the modern roles they knew.

They passed a slow black car on the road that was driving the loop of the main street, the road out of town and the back alley behind several stores. Snow White and her Prince Charming looked about frantically as Hook, their adult daughter's boyfriend, drove 10 mph and called out her name. They didn't see any signs of activity in the buildings or parked cars, on the water, in any houseboats, or in the woods on the hill. Without the dagger, this was the best they could do to summon the Dark One they knew.

Charming hit the dashboard in frustration. "She didn't come with us! Or, she doesn't want to be found... yet..." His infant son fussed in the back seat, with Snow. "Let's go into Storybrooke -if that is the Storybrooke we know-and-ask around. We could put up missing flyers..." He tried to stifle a yawn.

They idled next to a line of weary men, women and children walking along the road, who all looked displaced in their Renaissance era outfits.

"Hey!" Prince Charming called out to them. "Hey- King Arthur! Your majesty!" He spotted someone he recognized. Hook pulled over.

"Welcome to our land!" Snow White said out the car window. "That is, the place we lived for the last 30 years anyway. You're on your way to Storybrooke-!"

King Arthur ran up to their side of the car, awkwardly, in his metal coat of arms. "What have you done? One moment, I greeted you into my kingdom, and the next moment, my people were scattered about an unfamiliar forest- and what kind of carriage is this?"

Charming explained, "We don't know why or how, but- due to some kind of magic- we were all transported here, with our memories of the last six weeks... wiped."

"It's fairly common here," Snow White offered. "For in this little town, and, I guess, in East Storybrooke- there is magic… but I swear that WE didn't do it!" She bit her lip, worried, because the last time that everyone had come to Storybrooke with missing memories, it really had been the result of her Dark Curse- but even her memory of casting it had been gone.

"Friends- meet us in the town, down the road. Look around, get acclimated, and- this evening, we shall meet and find food and lodging for your people," Charming promised, not knowing what he could really arrange in a day.

Hook drove them back to the old brick apartment building they called home, still driving slowly because he only remembered the basics about driving from a couple of brief lessons Emma had given him. "I'll take care of looking for Emma," he said. "You and your baby -you need rest- we all do, really." Hook didn't feel tired but he knew that everyone who made the trip to Storybrooke was lacking sleep, and the memory of all that they did to wear themselves out.

"I don't know what this is," Charming mumbled to himself, "Maybe I didn't sleep the last six weeks or maybe it's just inter- realm jet lag or something."

"Please-rest up, mate. We'll rejoin our efforts at town hall, this evening, eh?" It was strange, planning out any logistics in Emma's absence. That's what she would be doing...

Hook bid them adieu and idled the car towards Main Street, parking behind Emma's old yellow bug. His vision did not appear.

He manifested some posters with a candid photo of Emma outside Henry's house on them- an old photo that Emma had saved from the town paper's undercover efforts to follow and spy on her. Still, it was an honest view of how she'd looked day to day, and her down-to-earth beauty was sure to draw attention as much as the heading: MISSING.

As Hook put up some posters on electric poles, an icy voice startled him, "How I'd wished, almost all my life, that I would be lucky enough to be on a Missing and Lost poster. But my parents had expected me to look for and save them, not the other way around."

Hook grimaced. "They're looking now, love, now it's too late. In your life, you had forgiven them, Swan!" he said under his breath.

There was his eternal vision, with smoky eyelids and pale lips frowning. She leaned against a light post, arms folded. Her white-blond hair was in a braid encircling her head, and she looked stiff and cold in an asymmetric black leather jacket with a high collar, and tight black pants covered with the zigzag stitching of patchwork. "I hardly feel like a... forgiver." She walked to the bulletin board outside of town hall with him, in long strides, watching him put up posters that encouraged any information be brought to the sheriff's office. "I don't feel like a savior, either. Haven't for a looong time. And now this Curse we cast together- it has no savior written into it. No special kiss will break it. People are going to have to find out what they must with hard work, for once, and not a quick magical cure!"

"It didn't take much for that, ah, potential for darkness, to come back to ya, did it?" He snapped, bringing up one of several prophecies made about her, before she was even born. Her mother had had a vision when pregnant with her, warning her that Emma's heart would hardly be pure, and she would have the greatest capacity for dark deeds in her time. Even though Emma's parents had made a twisted sacrifice to rid their unborn child of all that, even though the goodness that was left guided Emma's childhood and youth so she could still be a decent person… it guided her into adulthood in lieu of her parents being there. She would have rathered all the ups and downs and work of family life than the magical solution they used.

Without a retort, the pale, tired vision of Emma paused and listened. They had neared town hall enough to hear Zelena's shrill angry voice, with the hypersensitive hearing of the Dark One. They heard her arguing within, with her sister.

"Again, how could I have cast your rubbish Curse? The thing I love most is certainly alive- No, don't think you get to feel my belly out of sisterly concern! What? You think I should prove this cuff works by trying to use magic to check on my baby? Don't be a monster, Regina! If you're going to keep me prisoner, you have to let me see a real doctor and get a real check up! Don't you think I would use magic to ease this pregnancy if I could? Look at my ankles!"

Hook snuck up to the window of the mayor's office, curious. He saw Regina and Robin Hood towering over Zelena, who was handcuffed to a chair, with the other wrist cuffed to stop her magic. "I don't know, six weeks are a blank," Regina grumbled. "Time enough for you to fall in love with something, I suppose, and sacrifice it!"

Robin announced, "That's enough for now. We don't want to stress out the baby by stressing her out, too much. We're all tired-her even more so-"

"Jail cell or asylum cell- that's what I've been wondering," Regina said. They both glanced at Zelena, who was disgusted by how they talked as if she wasn't there. "Don't worry, either way you'll be safer than the last time we locked you up. Mr. Gold, I've heard, is still in a coma."

With a look exchanged with Robin, she waved her hand and transported her sister away. They embraced, thinking themselves alone. "There's another way to find the dagger, dear," Regina said. "Belle mentioned something- a gauntlet- but I'm afraid she still doesn't trust me or want to work with me. Could you- honey, she's your friend…"

"Yeah, I could go talk to her. Get some rest." With a long kiss goodbye, he headed out of the mayor's office.

"See you at home?" Regina called out, happily.

Hook sighed and stole away down a back alley route to the pawnshop on the corner. "Belle, the gauntlet…" he whispered to himself. "That's it. It's what she used to find the dagger! That awful night in the clock tower. A few months ago…" Belle had saved his life that night, by grabbing Rumpelstiltskin's dagger to control him and stop him from killing his lifelong enemy. Would she now destroy Killian's life-the way of life he had created, anyway?

His ghostly girlfriend walked briskly beside him, her stacked heels clacking on the pavement. "Hurry, Killian. They can't find out you have it! They can't see whose name is on the dagger!"

At the Golds' pawnshop, Hook felt a protection spell before he even tried to get in. He saw Belle, Pinocchio, and the nun known as the Blue Fairy inside. They were talking and frequently glancing towards the curtain between them and the workshop in back. Hook knocked, hesitantly -and was let inside by the heroes who still considered him a friend. "How are you all getting on?" he asked Belle.

"I'm dead tired and sore, but the town has been safe while we were gone- thanks to Blue. Things are pretty much the same here…"

"The same?" Killian asked, looking around at the dusty shelves and cobwebs on sale items- Mr. Gold no longer lay on the wooden floor, but on a cot in the workshop. They could glimpse him as the Blue Fairy went back there briefly to check on him, take his magical pulse, as she must have been doing for weeks…

"Yeah, except for the gradual deterioration of my husband, even under the preservation spell," Belle said glumly, holding up a large glass bell jar. With a thought, she could clear the fog on the glass and see an enchanted cut rose that was floating within- its petals were few and dark, its leaves withered. "This has been my gauge of how he fares- and last I remember, we were in that other land, & it was a rose full of petals!"

"So, he's dying," Killian said dryly. "And… you're upset? The crocodile betrayed you, worst of all!"

Belle teared up as she stammered over her explanation. "I- I know but there's more- there's more to him, there's still more for him in this life! He did so many terrible things but he did good things too, and he deserves better than- a prolonged death, like this…" Killian nodded. Belle went on, "In the back room, he still lays in- in a coma, with a completely blank heart, a purer heart than any grown man ever had- thanks to the Apprentice's magic, he could have a completely different life, a blank slate, and he deserves the chance to try!"

"If there's anything I can do-"

"Ah, well, there actually might be something, some kind of spell for restoration in a… situation like this. Blue Fairy's already done all the research she could, she can't find anything, but maybe you and I- can go over -" her tone lowered, "another resource. I don't know -I could translate, you could cross reference?"

Killian heard the whispers of all the ancient Dark Ones at the back of his mind. "She means the Dark One tomes," they said. "Our journals, our secrets… every Dark One has sought them out! Collected them! They're here, she has them!"

"Aye. As soon as you're ready, I'll be here to help." he said.

"Belle, is this it?" Pinocchio called out, and emerged from the back room. He'd found a shining metal armored glove, per her instructions.

Belle nodded, wanting to approach, but feeling her feet stuck to the floor. She wanted to help everyone find Emma, and then she wanted to get back to a semblance of normal, somehow - she knew she could do that most easily with Rumpelstiltskin lying dormant like that. It was the least complicated situation, with a still, silent Rumpel who couldn't manipulate her. But at the same time she had to hold back from crying, kneeling at his side and kissing his forehead. If she got close to him, she feared that her brave front would fall apart. It would be too easy to try to revive him, take care of him, and forget that they were officially separated.

Her friends were patient as Belle haltingly walked towards Rumpelstiltskin, took the gauntlet that was still his, and gently fit it over his limp hand. It would point out the greatest weakness of the owner, the thing he treasured most. "Let's see, here. It will work as long as he's the owner-uh, should be especially clear if he's wearing it though."

Killian was sweating, anxious to find out if this would work and point out the new possessor of the old man's precious dagger. The Blue Fairy was giving him a sidelong look- did she know? Couldn't she suspect who was touched by Dark magic? He had come up with a few different excuses on the way over here but he was still nervous- if these three knew, he would have to trap or kill them, then bury that magical gauntlet far from here.

A taut, mean voice taunted him from the back of his mind. "Now would be the time to kill me! The gauntlet- wouldn't work, and no one would be able to tell I'd died-for as long as that rose of hers is kept out of sight and out of mind. AH- but you can't kill me!" The vision of Rumpelstiltskin was shaking his head behind Killian. "That preservation spell protects me until I'm all well again!"

The heavy iron gauntlet didn't move. Rumpelstiltskin did not move. For different reasons, Belle and Killian breathed sighs of relief.

"The fingers aren't pointing the way to anything- that means its hold on him has broken!" Belle said, in shock.

"His heart was drained of its darkness so- now he just doesn't have a weakness, as we typically think of it," Blue reasoned. "He may be just void of… desire."

"Or…" Killian said, "Maybe this glove need not point anywhere, because his weakness, his soft spot, is already here. And now it's a lass and not a weapon of power."

Belle's eyes welled up with hot, conflicted tears. Pinocchio offered a shoulder to cry on. "Hey, hey now, it's- a lot to take in! You're beat! You said you're beat. Come with me to Granny's- the bed and breakfast part is still here in Storybrooke, just minus the fresh breakfast! I'll make sure you get my old room-penthouse. Then you be sure to get some rest."

Killian nodded to her. "I'll check in tomorrow-I'm at your disposal."

The cheery ding-ding of the bell above the front door was heard as someone rattled it, trying to get in- Belle rushed forward to let Robin Hood past the magical barrier. With that small diversion, Killian left without a word or a glance at the Blue Fairy. He couldn't believe his cover was still intact!

His beautiful vision of Emma was walking down the sidewalk several yards ahead of him. She looked back to smile genuinely at him, in the glow of morning light, then kept going. She was leading him- to the house he had seen in an ad in the paper. To their house, at the edge of Storybrooke and East Storybrooke. Home.

He found the keys in his jacket pocket. The keys to a sanctuary where he and his vision could escape the ongoing pressures and dangers of heroism. A porch, a foyer, a plain little kitchen, a plain little den. Everything was bright white or subdued blue and gray, freshly painted or polished, smelling clean as starched linens. He ran up the stairs to their bedroom, looked out on the wonderful view of his ship at the docks, and then shut out the daylight with the long, heavy curtains. He laughed as he fell back onto their big soft bed and at last could relax, with Emma flopping on the bed beside him playfully. He unzipped her jacket and melted into their closeness and caresses.

Somewhere on the upper floor, a clock was ticking.

Emma wasn't there.

A radio was on downstairs, playing "Working my way back to you babe. ...Working all the time." Killian was exhausted but couldn't rest. He doubted himself. Doubted that there was any future for him. He knew that he had spent too long dwelling on the past. He opened the cabinet full of expensive foreign bottles of rum and read all the labels in wonder. Magic brought him his choice consolation, the spirit he subsisted on for so long, but there was no one to drink with and nothing to drink to. He no longer felt the cold winds of time passing him by, the cold cruelty of the world that had always motivated him to drink and warm himself against it. Now there was a noticeable electric buzzing under his skin, the warm drive of magic. It made him invincible and kept him up at night. He closed the liquor cabinet and meandered over to the telescope.

Gleaming and polished, it swiveled smoothly atop a tripod and pointed out his perfect white trimmed bay window. This was the perfect house for a couple of restless orphans who had found a home with each other, him and Emma. Perfect oil lanterns on the wall, perfect gray comfy couch to snuggle on, perfect antique desk full of maps for their adventures. But Emma's ghost seemed to appear and disappear as it wanted. She was not a puppet waiting for him to pull the strings and direct the dance of a cozy leisurely home routine. Even though she was in his head, she was more like a somber, morbid mirage than a lucid daydream. Where was the Mirage now when Killian just wanted to take turns drinking from a flask and spinning the telescope with someone, each time finding someone random to spy on in Storybrooke. He had a wonderful vantage point for either scanning the Seascape or spying on the town. If Emma were here she would make it a game with him and help him train his Magic.

"I am here," said a low breathy voice and he felt a presence behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up he turned and tried to smile, tried to exhale in the presence of ghosts. Emma reached in front of him and put her eye to the telescope. He was trying to be happy, for her.

"Glad you're still here and we can have a relaxing night in," he said.

Her smile was taut as well because she was in and out of his reality- and she couldn't be happy, truly happy, it seemed, for the rest of her afterlife. "I spy with my little eye..." she said playfully, hoping to fulfill his expectations of her that were painfully clear, now that all Dark Ones were in his head.

"What do you spy Emma?" He tried to play along. She took a step back, trying not to sigh heavily as she had taken to lately. He looked at where she had focused the telescope. Henry and Regina were exploring East Storybrooke, walking down the boardwalk, trying every locked door, looking inside the shops.

"He's a smart lad. He'll figure it out. East Storybrooke... I put so much of my energy and intention into it-"

"It's really elaborate, for your first Curse-" she interrupted, being supportive.

"But it's too obvious. It's too obviously something I would want. They'll all catch on that a Dark Curse brought them here, created this little port town, and for a Dark Curse a heart must be sacrificed... Emma, you're the only one noticeably missing. They'll think I sacrificed YOUR heart, for this town! ... What's the plan?"

She hugged him from behind, trying to calm him. "Trust my family to not jump to that conclusion. They wouldn't do anything without the whole story... which they'll never know. So the plan is. ..." She smoothed his shoulders and arms. "Give people time to move on from my death." He shuddered at those words. "My parents will focus on raising their baby, and Regina will help Henry through junior high and high school..."

"Which I suppose you want to watch, through my eyes?" Killian asked.

"The point is, they'll all assume the Dark One is gone, move on from any concerns about the Dark One, live their lives... and once people have truly forgotten about the power of the Dark One, we will be free to use our power-"

"How's that? Your boy will be the first to notice that I won't age and everyone else will." He turned, gripped her shoulders and pulled her close to examine her pale, drawn face.

She hurried to explain. "You can use magic, I'll show you, so that you do seem to age-"

"And when would I seem to die? Can we skip to that part, and let me be free of your family and this town?" He spun the telescope away from him. It swiveled around to point its wide lens at him, reflecting someone he didn't want to see. Killian had to get out. "We'll have the rest of eternity to have cozy nights in, love," he said as he threw open the front door. He hurried down the steps from their half-enclosed porch to the gravel walkway, to look up at the stars that were coming out already.

He could not escape the spirits of Dark Ones past. Nimue was suddenly in front of him, squinting her animal eyes at him. "You mean to just sail away? Do you?" He could see his ship from their front yard, beyond their thorny hedge; the view of the docks along the rocky beach made him yearn. She hissed, "You know what would happen to you beyond these small towns, created by Curses. You know what would happen, without magic."

Meanwhile, the dwarves cautiously drew straws to cross Storybrooke s town line and test the new Curse. They had crossed from East Storybrooke to Storybrooke with no incident, and now they gulped as they each pulled a straw from Doc's fist- the fated shortest straw was drawn by Bashful, who looked at the weathered metal sign that said Leaving Storybrooke and dutifully took a step beyond it on the narrow country road. He looked back at his brothers woefully, feeling the pains of transformation -roots shot down, cracking open the blacktop, his body stiffened and grew course like a trunk, and thin branches started to rise up from his back and grow around his head. The dwarves gasped as Bashful grew into a tall willow tree, and suddenly they all remembered a tree just like this at the gate of Camelot - in which the Sorcerer had been imprisoned.

Killian reluctantly went back inside his house. 200 East Shore Street. Every room was too bare, there was little to explore, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be inspired to fill it up or make it more of a home. Only one door seemed to draw his interest-surprisingly, not just any door to a closet under the stairs. It was a door with an old-fashioned iron latch and lock-with concentration, he could manifest the key in his hand. It lead to unfinished wooden stairs that descended into the Dark and cold, farther than the house's foundation, deep into a cave.

With the rigging of some floodlights and an extension cord from the shed, Killian could see where the cavernous path ended. There was a glimmer of jewels, the shine of steel- he had brought himself some buried treasure to uncover! And perhaps not just here, but elsewhere in town!

He pointed the floodlight at - Excalibur! It was there, in his basement, lodged in the boulder from Camelot! He longed to grasp its handle and try- but the legends said that if not the rightful leader of the land, grabbing it could turn you to dust!

Nimue chuckled from the shadows. "For years, this artifact -in a different form-lay dormant in my basement as well," she said. "But that was before…" her cloaked form glided towards the sword. "Before I took a risk, and found out I was worthy! I could touch it and not die."

Emma touched his hand softly. "Merlin warned me not to ever take this sword from the stone! That goes for you, too, because-"

"What about me?" Killian asked.

"You, Hook?" Nimue said, mocking. "You know this sword- and it's counterpart- could even kill a Dark One."

Killian protested, "But you can act through me- you have before- and you can take it, using my hand-"

"You're not ready Hook!" She was instantly close to him. "You want to control that sword? Find the rightful leader of the land. Control that person, and you'll control the sword and its magic."

Later, the curious Captain paced among the newcomers from Camelot. He was on edge as Storybrooke's town hall filled up with new and old transplants from the Enchanted Forest, awaiting answers. A knight was missing, the modern world confused them, and they mistrusted their hosts. He tried to cover up his motive in this, the latest Curse, by going between introductions and welcomes, handing out maps from Storybrooke s tiny tourism office and promising food to be provided at Granny's, and tolerance from the sheriffs, for anyone who wanted to squat in a houseboat or borrow a parked vehicle from East Storybrooke.

The Charmings called everyone to attention. They tried to offer a basic understanding of a Dark Curse, amid questions and grumblings from the newcomers - Regina kept interrupting to remind everyone just how much they don't know about magic.

Grumpy stood to announce, "Terrible news! The town line- the boundaries of Storybrooke AND the new town that landed-it's got magic again! Bashful, poor Bashful..." he took off his hat and slouched, looking down.

Snow White gasped. "No-!"

Grumpy shook his head. "We had to find out what would happen to a person who left- after all, leaving town may be the only way to escape the new Curse…Bashful was brave when he drew the short straw- and turned into a tree!"

The other six dwarfs and the giant, Anton, stood, hats off. There was a moment of silence.

Nimue appeared to Killian, sitting placidly on a folding chair near the aisle. She turned to the back of the hall to look at him and nod. His mind opened to hers- no one could leave- no one could come! There was magic in this town that Nimue was hell bent on protecting.

King Arthur, looking serious and sleep-deprived with his uncombed jet-black hair and striking, wily pale blue eyes, slowly walked to the front of the room. "That is Dark One magic, the same transformation that happened to the Sorcerer, Merlin, ages ago! I have studied it my whole life. If anyone is to solve this mystery, and restore our recent memories -I will." The crowd stirred. Killian, leaning against a pillar at the back of the room, was watching him intently. Was this… a leader, who he could control? Was Arthur the key to making the mystery... stay a mystery?

Killian slipped out of the meeting as Arthur and the Charmings started to shoot logistical ideas back and forth. Within a couple days, the aspirations of this man would quickly prove to be either posturing or effective leadership. Perhaps he could be directed towards shaping public opinion, and using Excalibur to the ends of the Dark One…. not cutting Killian with it, like he did back in Camelot!

Killian found solace at last aboard the Jolly Roger. She could rock him to sleep like no other. Thoughtless, dreamless, deep sleep.

Snow White paced the hard cement floor of her humble town's city hall, sore from talking and pacing and crying. Neal was asleep in his stroller- her son she barely recognized, having missed weeks of his precious babyhood! Snow's composed, managerial facade had broken down hours ago, with the mounting bad news. The Blue Fairy had updated her- no one had any news of any changes that would indicate Emma had left them- or lifted the darkness.

"I feel like we failed her somehow," Snow had blurted out to her lifelong friend. "All she did was save the Apprentice from being the Dark One, then she saved Regina, and then she disappeared! When we found her back in the Enchanted Forest, we were able to stop her from hurting someone- so as far as we know, she never hurt anybody! It couldn't be that hard to -remove the darkness from her heart, like the Sorcerer's Apprentice had for Rumpelstiltskin! Right? Is it possible that's what we already did?"

"I don't think so- temper your expectations, dear Snow," Blue had said, in her cautionary voice. "You think your daughter innocent, but really- Emma did not take on the Dark One magic simply while saving Regina from it. She took it on as soon as she attacked the person who'd just been harboring that magic- the Sorcerer's Apprentice- which led to... his death."

The distraught mother gulped hard. In all the commotion, she had blocked out this fact-or had not wanted to think it true! The Sorcerer's Apprentice had died!

"I'm so sorry-she became the Dark One, somewhat in the... usual way. And now, without the Apprentice's help, I don't know that we can recreate that spell he did…" the Blue Fairy trailed off. There was nothing she could say.

Snow White was devastated by the news that her daughter had killed someone. Again. She hadn't meant to! She had only meant to blast the Apprentice with light magic to save him, on that fateful night! But all this death and destruction-it seemed to be what the darkness demanded. Was there any escape from it?

"If Emma hadn't used her magic on the Apprentice- " Snow struggled to think things through in her despair. "If she hadn't, then the Dark One magic would have kept on attacking everyone who had light magic! Including you! So she… she saved you! How could you say-? You don't know! You didn't see how that dagger was blank, it didn't bear my daughter's name until -"

The Blue Fairy had hugged her defensive young friend, muffling her gasping sobs and broken sentences. "Yes, it didn't bear her name until she embraced the darkness as her own," she said gently. When Blue was right about something, she couldn't help but say it. "I'm sorry."

Charming overheard the bad news as the meeting broke up, as he was bidding everyone farewell, family by family. It knocked the wind out of him. There was a word for what happened to the Apprentice, because of Emma, and what was happening to Mr. Gold, who was nearing death because of the Apprentice. There was a legal term- manslaughter? Sadly it didn't matter to the dagger, whether it was manslaughter or murder. The tradition of the Dark One was passed on by a long chain of murders, and with his daughter still missing -no, he couldn't think that way.

No one had any clues about where their troubled adult daughter was. From what Snow had gathered from the Blue Fairy, -there had been no noticeable change in the balance between good and evil, in all the magic that she was able to monitor. Archie, the therapist who everyone thought of as their conscience-he had a good read on people- he'd tried to comfort Snow and Charming, but was unable to answer their questions about whether anyone was hiding something, holding back information, or whether anyone had transformed in any way during the missing weeks, due to magic.

Snow's husband tried to hug her as she paced and sniffled- they were the last ones left in the dim town hall. Snow was flipping her flip phone open and closed nervously. Who else could she ask? She had already called Regina twice, after Regina had gone home to puzzle over the mysterious old magical reference books that came with them in the Curse. So far, she'd found notes in the books in her own handwriting and the handwriting of other witches and wizards, but nothing in them was an explicit record of what had happened to them! Or Emma...

Snow locked up the building, she still had the keys from her brief term as de facto Mayor - and she and Charming just paced with the stroller outside. She could try calling Hook again- maybe he would answer?

"Hook! I'm -sorry; I know it's late. But do you remember... any more?"

The Dark One had reluctantly answered his cell phone as he sat up in his bunk on his ship. He heard the desperation in the quivering voice on the line. "No, milady, uh, I don't know..." Next to him, his seductive vision of Emma Swan leaned in -her eyes were bloodshot, behind her thick black lashes- and started to undress him.

"You've done so much, my love," she whispered. "But they will never let you rest, not until they have answers." She cocked her head "... Regina would have given them false memories, to wrap everything up, if it were her Curse. But- honey, your Curse was rushed. ..." Emma's hands were all over his muscular arms and chest, feeling for something. Hook didn't know what to say to her mother on the phone, but he burned with desire to respond to Emma –and a desire to outshine Regina and all who had ever done dark magic, for some reason. It was new. So was the scaly patch of skin that Emma's cold hands found. Scales! On his arm! She whispered with relish, "That means- that not only have you wrought Dark One magic- you liked it."

Killian rushed towards the mirror to examine himself. Not only were the people of Storybrooke and East Storybrooke paying the price of his magic! He was paying the price, too! He looked back at his girlfriend's demure expression, unsure if he could embrace this change, like she could. With a deep breath, he told the woman on the phone, "I do remember something." He turned towards Emma, his level gaze on her in the dark captain's quarters. "But it was so painful, Snow White, I had to be sure it was not just a nightmare. I... am sure now, I remember... your daughter died! Lady, she sacrificed herself back in Camelot!"

A shocked silence from Snow White and Emma.

He went on, "She had used magic to create... a special fire, a fire that was taller-and hotter, even than she. And older, so old, it was from the fire that had- forged the Dark One dagger! She took that dagger and jumped into the fire- because it was the only way to rid the world of the Dark One!"

Over Snow's cries of "No, no, no," Killian said softly, insistently, "She did it, you know. She was a hero! She did it! And with her death, I- I did something I never thought- with her death, I was able to cast the Dark Curse to get us all back home. You see, she was the one I loved most!"

"No, no, Hook! What- what about our memories?" Snow asked in a small voice.

"Something went wrong, I don't understand!"

Snow White understood, all too well, as she had cast the Dark Curse herself once. Something had gone wrong then... a spell for forgetting had been mixed in. She dropped the phone and dropped to her knees, holding her head. She repeated what she'd heard to her husband, hollowly. They sat on the sidewalk together and cried.

"Very impressive half-truths," Dark Emma said. She shed her V-shaped camisole and tight leather pants. "You're letting me die a hero-thank you." Only now did Killian notice the few glittering, iridescent scales that had grown on her arms and wrists.

"All that's left is to bury you," he said.

Later, looking up at the stars from the deck, he sang himself a little song that had been on the radio at Christmas time in Storybrooke. It had stuck with him. "I wonder, as I wander, out under the sky, why Emma, the savior, did come for to die..." He sang and made plans. "For poor ord'nry people like you and like I… I wonder as I wander out under. ...the sky…"