As David pushed off from the Jolly Roger, the dwarves slotted the oars into place and started pulling away from the ship, the boat dipping and rolling with the waves. The rain was sluicing down, a curtain of cold water surrounding them on all sides. Slowly the ship faded from view. Emma couldn't stop staring, her arms wrapped around the heavy and solid sextant, tightly hugging it to her body as she watched what had been their home since they'd arrived in Oz, disappear into the dark. It felt like an abandonment of sorts, leaving in the night never to return. She hated the thought of having to tell Hook what had happened to his beloved ship.

If I ever see him again.

She shivered against the weather, pulling her jacket closer around her. It was insubstantial against the rain pounding down on their small craft. In front of her sat Regina, pale and gaunt, still recovering from her injuries and Snow, heavily pregnant and pale. David and Robin, sitting to either side, were doing their best to keep them warm and dry but a shared look spoke volumes as to the futility of their actions.

The dwarves meanwhile were rowing blind, with neither compass nor map to guide them. The dark of night and the rough weather prevented either from being produced. In any case it wasn't as if they could be of any use. No one was exactly sure which direction they should row in, having perhaps relied too heavily on Hook's sailing ability and experience. They had all seen him plot a course before but the computations and measurements were something beyond the best of them. David had been aboard a ship before but it had been more of a sightseeing expedition. He'd simply indicated the direction he wanted to travel and his orders were fulfilled. It was nothing so complicated as consulting charts for ocean currents and depths. Of course in hindsight he should have insisted on the sailing master at least teaching him the bare minimum.

As the prince admitted this to the group, yelling to make himself heard over the rain and wind Emma could see Snow's mouth flatten to a line. Robin grimaced at the admission. Even if they had taken the time for a proper education from the pirate it was unlikely the knowledge would have stuck. With their combined time on board they could barely remember how to sail the ship. The waters they were sailing in were another story. None were familiar with Oz apart from Emma who had only seen the Judy Garland movie as a child. But even she was lost when it came to the lay of the land.

When Hook had made depth soundings and calculated their speed, Emma had watched over his shoulder. When he sketched into the nights, creating a rough outline of the area, complete with wind patterns and currents she had watched him work. His attention to detail and level of concentration had been impressive and necessary as they searched first for land and then hugged the coastline, occasionally setting foot on land to scout the area for the Witch's castle.

Unfortunately for everyone, as the resident expert on Oz, Emma had no remembrance of an ocean, though she'd never read the book. Even so she could provide only the vaguest of details on finding Zelena. She lived in a castle located somewhere in Oz. At the time Regina had made a comment about the information being almost worse than nothing and Emma couldn't help but agree. All she could offer was general knowledge and she couldn't even be sure of that as her encounters with Zelena and Walsh hadn't exactly matched their film characters. And now they were heading out into the great unknown with even less information and fewer people.

Emma looked out towards where they were rowing, a dark nothingness with no destination in sight. She shivered, soaked to the skin and noticed the others weren't faring much better. Regina looked nauseous and Sleepy had dark circles under his eyes. Everyone else was hunched over, trying to preserve any body heat they had left. No one spoke as they considered their situation, lost, cold and defeated. Emma stared down into her lap, her legs slowly going numb under the onslaught of cold. Strangely enough though her feet felt worse and it wasn't until she peered down to the bottom of the boat that she saw the dark shimmer of water reflecting back at her.

"Are we sinking?" She blurted out, her lips slurring the words, fearing the same fate would befall the jolly boat as had the Roger.

David looked back at her, eyes widening as he twisted in his seat, trying to locate the source of the leak in all that darkness. Snow strained against the weight of her belly, one hand held across her torso as she struggled to lift her feet up and out of the wet. Emma took hold of her ankles and pulled them up to rest beside her, resisting the soreness in her arms. Likewise Robin pulled Regina's legs onto his lap, cradling her to his chest and the dwarves braced their legs against the seat planks. Everyone swiveled in place, seeking the possible cause of their demise. Their search was rather hampered though by a half moon and cloud cover.

The only lantern they'd managed to grab was stationed at the bow in Doc's hands, doing a lacklustre job of lighting their way. Now it was passed back, hand to hand cradling the precious flame as it was slowly swept along the hull, eyes darting to every seam for the telltale trickle of water, searching for where the pitch seal had failed.

Robin shook his head, hair plastered to his face, voice shaking as his teeth chattered. "It's likely the rain. It's coming down so hard it's filling the boat. We'll need to something to bail it out with or we'll get sluggish. Best not to swamp in the middle of nowhere."

Nodding in agreement the group didn't question how a man who'd spent most of his time in the forest was so familiar with watercraft. A story for another and less stressful time Emma supposed.

Bashful handed his oar over to Emma who zipped the sextant inside her jacket before taking a firm grip on the slippery wood, trying to match her rhythm to Grumpy, who was quietly humming under his breath next to her. It was only a short while before her shoulders began to protest against the constant dip and pull. She grit her teeth, watching the dwarves, unflagging and resolute and in far better shape than her apparently. No hint of strain crossed their faces as they hauled into the night. Not for the first time did she find the dwarves strength and endurance a boon. Without them it was doubtful they would have even managed to get close to Zelena's castle.

Meanwhile Bashful was picking his way through the meagre supplies they managed to stow aboard, now in danger of getting waterlogged. He began rummaging around for something that could serve as a bailing bucket. Unfortunately the only thing serviceable was a water cask, their most precious resource and not something to sacrifice.

Instead they had to resort to good old fashioned manpower. Bashful was a far more effective rower than Emma and as such took back his job. Charming, Robin and Emma started bailing with their hands, ignoring the biting pain of icy water that slowly faded into dangerous numbness. It took a scolding from Snow to stop them, hands pale and pruned.

If she could, Emma would have used her magic to spare them the frozen fingers. As it was though, she was still too shaken by the events of yesterday to be of much use. She didn't have much control at the best of times and it was unlikely that any effort on her part would be helpful.

As the dwarves rowed into the night Doc organized a sleep shift. With everyone cold and tired already, it was easy to see how tempers and constitutions might not be in the best shape.

"We'll take this in turns. No need to exhaust ourselves."

Of course, their progress was hampered when inevitably half the dwarves took a break to catch what sleep they could. But it hardly mattered. They had no destination to follow and no schedule to keep. Their rowing grew steadily slower as the night progressed. Emma, Robin and Charming might be able to hold their own in a fight but endurance wasn't a quality they'd coveted in Storybrooke. It hadn't been necessary. Now though, it showed.

Emma's arms were like jelly and her back was starting to pain her as the first hints of dawn emerged in the east. The sky slowly lightened as she timed her breathing to her oar strokes, fingers protesting the rough treatment. Charming's face was strained and Robin was the picture of concentration. Regina and Snow had nodded off some time ago, leaning against one another in a manner no one would have believed six months ago.

Thankfully the rain had slackened off to a slight drizzle though everyone was still soaking wet from their night of misery. But with the coming of day they would have the chance to dry off and assess their situation. Unfortunately it was easy to see that they were surrounded on all sides by water. There was no land in sight.

As Emma handed her oar back to Bashful, she stretched her shoulders, wincing at the sore muscles. But as tired as she was, the hard knot of hunger in her gut felt worse.

"Does anyone want something to eat?"

She stared at the wet, cold and tired group. They looked as terrible as she felt. Robin weakly nodded and pulled out a knife, handing it over to Sneezy who happened to be closest to the crates. The dwarf pried up the top of one and pulled out sealed containers. Salted beef wasn't exactly anyone's idea of a meal, passing as barely chewable fare but it was all they had and a full stomach was likelier to keep them going. As they passed out the strips of meat, Snow made a face, trying to pretend she didn't mind the taste or the texture. Regina outright refused.

"I'm not eating that." Her weak protests spoke to recovery. She may have been pale but at least her attitude was returning, a fact that made Emma smile.

"It's this or nothing Regina."

Robin tried to softly coax her into taking at least a bite or two but she shook her head, closing her eyes against the sun breaking over the horizon. Instead he surreptitiously tucked her uneaten breakfast into his coat, most likely hoping that her growing hunger would help to change her mind later in the day.

Everyone else slowly chewed in silence, waiting for the sun to rise and warm them up. The slow pitch and yaw of the boat was hard to resist though. Soon enough Emma felt herself fighting to stay awake. As her eyes closed, the hard curve of the sextant digging into her side was the last thing she remembered.

When she woke it was night and she was alone. Everyone had seemingly vanished and yet there was no sign of land. Rain was falling and the wind was blowing at a steady pace, soaking her. She shimmied to the side of the boat and peered over the side, looking to see if anyone had fallen overboard but it was far too dark to see anything.

"Hello!"

She yelled out over the water, hoping someone was out there and that they'd hear her. The only answer she received was the roll of distant thunder. Twisting in her seat she looked to the noise. There was nothing but darkness. She waited, looking skyward as the eventual blaze of lightning seared across her vision in an eerie green light. It lit up the boat, revealing a huddled mass at the other end of the vessel. Emma tensed, her senses on high alert as she felt around for a weapon, not taking her eyes off of the spot where she'd seen the strange figure. It was only after several moments of fumbling around in the dark that she realized the oars were gone. By her math the storm was a few clicks away. She brushed a wet wisp of hair from her eyes, waiting for the lightning. Another flash followed by a low growl of thunder soon lit up the area again.

The figure never moved, not once stirring when she was able to actually see it. After waiting and failing to notice any semblance of movement she finally balled her fists and made to stand. Swaying with the movement of the boat, she slowly crawled across the seats, pausing in between every lightning strike. She licked her lips, the taste of rain on her tongue. Her muscles were sore as she tried to move with the pitch and yaw of the boat, feeling the slight shake in her legs. Fear and fatigue weighed her down as she approached the figure.

"Who are you?" She yelled into the wind.

No response. She slowly reached out an arm and poked at the figure. Again nothing. Feeling slightly braver she grabbed handful of clothing and pulled until the body flopped towards her. The next flash of lightning revealed a familiar face.

"Killian?"

Her eyes widened at the sight of him, pale and unconscious, his head lolling back exposing his neck. Holding him by the collar she tightened her grip and checked for a pulse. Fighting to stay calm, her fingers trembled as she waited. There! Weak and thready it was barely detectable but he was alive. She let out a shaky breath, almost sobbing in relief.

She hung her head, closing her eyes in relief. Her legs gave out beneath her as she sat down beside him. Propping him up she tried to pull his coat around him in a poor attempt to keep him warm. He was already soaked but maybe they could huddle together and wait out the weather. She smiled to herself as they leaned up against one another but her respite ended when she looked down at the next flash of lightning and saw blood on her hand.

No.

She fumbled around in the dark, pulling aside his jacket, her fingers brushing against what she dreaded, a jagged hole in his vest. In the brief moment that lit up their world she saw the wound and the blood was fresh. As she moved to cover the injury his arm snapped up and grabbed her wrist.

She could hear him panting in the dark, the slight hitch in his breath at every inhalation. Lightning lit up his face with an eerie green glow, his eyes staring directly at her.

"Emma?" His voice was soft and full of confusion.

"I…" She grimaced as his fingers tightened on her wrist.

"Where did you go?"

Emma froze. His words were like a punch to the gut. She felt nauseous and would have pulled away if she hadn't been on a boat, if he hadn't been holding tightly to her. The pained look on his face was more than enough to make her want to run and brought back the memory of that day and how she'd been unable to save him.

She brought a hand up, pausing before slowly resting it over his knuckles. His face remained passive, slack compared to her clenched jaw, his sharp words contrasted by a limp body. Looking closer Emma realized he had a glazed look to his face, an emptiness to his eyes, looking through her rather than at her. The warmth once found in his gaze was gone. She squeezed his hand, trying to draw out a reaction.

"Were you coming to find me love?" His tone sounded disconnected from his body. There was no heat or malice to his tone, no anger to the set of his brow, only disappointment.

Emma could feel her throat closing up, her heart pounding in her ears.

"I...I'm sorry."

She couldn't even meet his eye, couldn't explain how he'd disappeared. How the guards had forced them to retreat to the ship; how they'd abandoned his home to the ocean; how she had cried herself to sleep in his quarters with the thought of never seeing him again.

Punctuated by lightning, the conversation diminished to wordless looks. As night wore on and the waves grew higher, the boat slammed into the constant roll of the ocean and the rain poured down, soaking them both to the bone. His grip slackened to where he was simply holding onto her. He wouldn't even let her move to a more comfortable position, leaving her perched on the edge of the hard wooden bench. Normally the talkative one, he eventually grew silent and stared out at the ocean.

"I'm with her you know."

Emma grimaced at the admission. She didn't want to imagine what Zelena had done to him as her eyes strayed down to the wound on his chest. He didn't appear to have any other injuries but the look in his eyes suggested a deeper concern. He was physically present but his mind appeared to be elsewhere. Here and now he seemed…lesser, distant.

"Hey. We won't leave you there."

"I don't doubt that love."

His voice was tender and resigned. He absently stroked the skin of her wrist with his thumb, sending a shiver up her arm. Whether it was from the rain or his touch, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that was that his regular jovial candor was gone, replaced with a fatalistic tone. Slouched over in his seat he was a poor copy of the man she'd known.

"We're…we're going to find you ok?" She nudged his knee with her own.

He looked down at their hands, a sad frown on his face. "I'm not going anywhere Swan."

As they sat and stared out at the water occasionally illuminated by eerie green lightning, Emma couldn't stop shivering. As the rain turned to drizzle, the thunder and lightning moved towards the horizon, peppering the sky with ever smaller booms and flashes. Soon enough they were left in total darkness. As the quiet of the night drew in around them, the only sounds were the creak of wood joints and the splash of water against the boat.

"Will you stay here?"

Emma looked up at him, surprised at the question. He seemed so lost, a hollow smile on his face, his brow wrinkled in doubt as if he expected her to decline.

"If I did I couldn't get you out of Zelena's castle." She answered as softly as she could.

"Aye. I suppose that's true." He pulled away, letting go of her wrist and pulling his coat closer about his frame. "It's just…If I'm here with you then I'm not there with her."

Oh

"He's not wrong you know."

Emma turned to see Zelena sitting at the other end of the boat, holding a glowing ball of light in her hand, casting strange shadows. Emma's eyes widened and stood as the witch smiled and crossed her legs, still dressed in the same outfit she'd been wearing when they'd fought her in the castle courtyard.

"You may have him for now but he'll be leaving with me." Zelena chuckled. "Unless, that is, you'd like to give him up right now?" She raised a brow in Hook's direction.

He was staring out at the ocean, purposely not looking at her. That relaxed expression had disappeared from his face. Now his mouth was set in a firm line, his jaw clenched. Emma put a hand to his shoulder as reassurance, only to find he was shaking underneath his coat, his fingers digging into his thigh.

Noticing his apparent unease, Zelena offered what she assumed was comfort. "Oh come now. It wasn't all bad was it? You had a roof over your head, a room to yourself. It's certainly more luxurious then your current surroundings," she said, scoffing at the boat they were sitting in.

"Why are you here?" Emma frowned at the intrusion, unsure of Zelena's intentions.

"Well I was worried of course, leaving my new pet all alone," she grinned at Hook, tossing the ball of light up and down in her hand. "But then to my utter disappointment I find you here," she sneered at Emma.

"If you don't like it then leave."

"Gladly. But I have no intention of leaving without him."

"You'll just have to be disappointed then." Emma moved in front of Hook, blocking Zelena's view.

The witch chuckled. "Oh that's quite alright. I can wait for you to say your goodbyes. After all, you never got the chance to before, did you?"

Emma could feel the magic crackling through her as she tried to control herself. She'd rather have blasted Zelena out of the boat but the witch had proved more than a match for them at the castle. Here, without backup, there was no telling if she could be defeated.

"Careful now. You wouldn't want to capsize your little craft by doing something foolish." Zelena glanced down to the light magic flickering around Emma's clenched fists

Calling the witch's bluff, Emma brought her hand up. She'd never been one to take kindly to threats and while she had no illusions about stopping Zelena she at least had to try. She wasn't going to let her disappear with Hook again.

Pursing her lips in disdain, Zelena stood, brushing off her dress. "Don't be tedious Emma."

"Try me."

"Oh I don't think so." Zelena stood. "He'll be coming with me whether you like it or not. He doesn't have a choice." She tossed the glowing ball into the air and raised her hand, clenching it into a fist.

Behind her Emma heard a pained shout and a loud thump. Turning she saw Hook on the floor of the boat, clutching a hand over his chest wound, wheezing. Slowly he struggled to his feet, staggering before he sneered at Zelena, his voice raspy.

"I want nothing to do with you witch."

"Pity then you haven't a say in the matter." Zelena smirked, tilting her head at the fools in the front of her. "Hurry up and kiss him goodbye before I lose my patience."

"He's not going anywhere." Emma glared.

"Suit yourself then." Zelena waved her hand and a blast of green light slammed into Emma, smashing her into the side of the boat.

The pain was immediate, a bright hard thing blooming in her side like a thorn resting under her ribs. She gingerly reached a hand up to probe and see if she'd broken anything. Moving was a mistake though as it brought a gasp to her lips and tears to her eyes. Wincing she tried to pull herself up and failed, falling against the gunwale.

"Swan."

Hook's voice was shaky as he held out his hand. She waved him off, eyes flicking down to his chest wound as she sat sprawled on the bottom boards taking short sharp breaths to mitigate the pain. In return he frowned and shuffled next to Emma, grimacing as he moved. Turning to Zelena he took a deep breath and looked her square in the eye.

"If I go with you…" He trailed off, uncertain and questioning.

Emma stared at him, mouth open, not quite believing her ears. "You can't be serious. She's just-".

"Emma. Stop." He gave her a sad smile, his shoulders slumped in resignation. "Love if I go with her she won't have a motive to hurt you."

But all she heard was we both know you can't defeat her alone. Emma sighed, frowning. Her failure at the castle had been costly and now it was about to happen again. Helplessness was not a position she was used to finding herself in and yet it appeared to be inevitable here.

"I'm not just going to let her take you away again." She bit out the words, each a physical sting to her side.

Grabbing hold of the gunwale, fingers clutching at the worn wood, Emma hissed as she slowly got her legs under her and then shakily stood. He reached out his hand to steady her, his fingers gently wrapped around her arm, a firm warmth anchoring them together.

"Please, Emma."

She could see the pleading in his eyes, asking her let this happen for both their sakes. And with that the pain wasn't just in her side anymore. She slowly nodded, feeling her throat close up as she fought the urge to grab hold of him. To her it felt like giving in, an unfamiliar feeling when all her life, she'd been forced to fight. It was her default position, to hold on tight instead of letting go without a word but now, when having to consider giving in, she was lost.

"You'll find a way. I know you will."

He gave her a gentle squeeze of reassurance as if his future absence would be easy to endure, as if it would be momentary and not a frustrating unknown. She stared at him, reverting to her foster face, the one that could pretend everything was alright. A mask she used when moving homes, when parents told her she was difficult, when the other kids made comments about her birth mother.

Zelena rolled her eyes. "If I'd known you two were going to be so melodramatic I wouldn't have bothered. As for you pirate there is no 'if'." With a flick of her hand Hook vanished, a cloud of caustic green smoke dissipated in his place.

Emma coughed and choked on the grime diffusing around her. It tasted like ash and stung her eyes, an acrid mix of sulphur and charcoal. She glared at Zelena as she wheezed, trying to breathe through the effects of the haze. Her hand drifted up to the spot on her arm where he'd held on, distractedly brushing her jacket.

The witch tilted her head and pursed her lips. "Tell me Saviour, what exactly is it you think you're going to rescue him from? Me?" She smirked. "I'd argue that he's far safer now. I've heard you have a knack for getting men killed." She watched in delight as Emma's face twisted between anger, grief and confusion. "Oh Rumplestiltskin was very forthcoming about you and your…extended family. You'd be surprised the things he told me, especially about your son."

Emma knew bait when she saw it and chose to bite her tongue. As much as she'd like to punch Zelena off the boat she was quite certain any attempt to fight the witch would be futile. Besides, Henry was safe in Storybrooke and she was sure Zelena couldn't travel between realms anymore. The fact that the witch might know what had happened between her and Neal was annoying but she'd experienced worse from better people.

"We'll find you."

"I look forward to it. Until then…" Zelena reached out and blasted Emma off the boat.

She flew into the air and hit the water hard, punching the air from her lungs. The cold was like a jagged cut across her skin and she gasped, swallowing a mouthful of sea water as she sank. Her arms and legs floundered as she struggled upwards coughing and spluttering when she broke the surface, sucking in lungfuls of air. Every move pulled against the pain in her side, a bruise in the making.

Emma tried to orient herself, swimming in place to keep her head above water as she twisted around, trying to spot the boat but there was only darkness in every direction.

Where's the lightning when you need it?

She looked to the sky frantically, hoping for one last flash from the storm. After several minutes, Emma gave up. If she waited any longer she would freeze. Her only other option was magic. Sighing heavily Emma tried to quiet her thoughts. Despite Regina's sporadic lessons on the Jolly Roger, she had yet to exert any level of control over her powers. Of course, the cold didn't help either. Emma was already shivering, her toes slowly going numb.

Lifting one hand up in the hand she almost sunk back underwater, her legs protesting as she tried to pour all her feelings into a ball of light. Concentrating proved to be a problem though. Her brain felt lethargic and it seemed the best she could muster was a handful of sparks.

"Come on!"

Emma yelled into in the dark, frustrated and panicked. She thought about the promise she made to Hook, how they had to defeat Zelena, how she had to get her family home safely, how she had to see Henry again. She pushed all her desperation and urgency and fear into her hands and felt something click. A bright pulse of light burst out of nowhere in her hand. Startled but pleased, Emma smiled and threw the ball up as high as she could, grunting in pain. It illuminated the area, allowed her a semblance of hope in finding the boat.

Squinting into the dark she finally spotted it in the distance, pitching and yawing in the waves. Emma took a deep breath and slowly swam towards it. At her pace though, she was drifting faster than she was swimming. The light floated ahead, always keeping the boat in view but it swiftly moved away from her.

With the advent of futility seeping into her thoughts Emma struggled harder, pushing against the pain. She had to get out of the water. She'd watched Titanic enough times to understand what happened to the body in ice cold temperatures. Gritting her teeth she kicked her legs harder, having since lost all feeling in her feet.

With every stroke she could feel herself slipping further behind, her limbs moving just a little slower, her shivering making it hard to think. When she looked up again she couldn't see the boat. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she wondered how she could have gotten so far behind. Craning her neck up to the ball of light she noticed the distance and it was far greater than she thought she could swim.

I have to try.

But even as she struggled in the direction of the boat she knew things weren't looking good. She would slip under the waves and kick like mad to resurface, her head barely above water. And she was tired, so tired. Her arms were jello and she felt like ice. What she wouldn't give for a hot shower, an Irish coffee, a roaring fire.

She wasn't a quitter but there came a point when her body refused to respond. Her eyes closed for a moment as she sank below the surface, unable to continue. The last thought in her mind was how she hadn't just failed everyone else, she'd failed herself. How was she supposed to save Hook now? How was she supposed to get home to Henry? As her body slowly drifted down towards the depths the light faded and the pressure grew, vanishing into the absolute void that was the ocean.

Waking with a start, Emma gulped air like water, her heart trying to free itself from her chest. She was back in the boat, surrounded by her friends and family.

It was a dream?

Blinking in the bright sun of day Emma looked around in a stupor. There was no sign of Zelena and no storm. Instead half the boat was sleeping with the other half vigorously pulling towards the unknown. Wincing Emma was surprised at the pain in her side. Reaching down she felt the sextant digging into her ribs, a grim reminder of the past day's events. She rested a hand over it, the weight anchoring her to the present and their current situation.

Off in the distance she could see a mass of dark clouds, possibly the very storm they had fled from in the night. There was no threat of thunder though, no streak of lightning to be seen.

As she swayed with the rhythm of the boat, she traded off with Bashful, taking her turn at the oar. They continued like this for what felt like hours, only pausing for food and water. The sun was an overbearing heat that hovered like a cruel boss, unfeeling and unflagging. It was only in the late afternoon that some joy was to be found amongst the crew.

"Land ho!" Doc pointed from the bow at the horizon.

Emma squinted at the hazy line along the edge of the world. It looked so far away, a distant mirage that held so much promise. Renewed with enthusiasm, the ragged group angled the boat onto a new course and pulled with all their might towards possible salvation.