Standard disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm not making any money from this. It's for fun.

Chapter Four

Cabin Fever

Day one: "Penny-love, I'm not going to say I'm sorry because I'm not. I still want to know. But you could at least let me know the Crocodile is leaving you alone. Or, you know, stop by and see me. I don't have many visitors. I'm rather bored. And if you visit, I promise not to vomit on you. Or maybe I should and we could shower together?"

Day two: "Penny….I found this show called "Chopped" and it's absolutely wrong. There needs to be more blood. It's called chopped! But no one's getting anything chopped off! It's all these sniveling people crying over food. Rum was an ingredient though; I'd like some rum. If they changed the name of the show, I would really like it."

Day three: "Penny, I finished Moby Dick. I can't say I enjoyed the ending. In fact, the ending was a bit of a downturn. You need to find the author and tell him to change it – (Emma, in the background: He's dead.) – Hold on, Swan says he's dead. Good."

Day four: "You know, I only get one of these a day, right? Are you all right? Don't tell me you're upset with me, love. If you are, I can't imagine how you could ever handle the world. You must be so lonely. I could help. Come visit me, I'll cheer you up…just a moment – no, Swan, I'm not being disgusting! Do your job, don't eavesdrop!"

Day five: "Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penelope. Penelope. Penelope. Penny. Penny. Penny."

Day six: "I'm still not sorry."

My mailbox hung open and I went out to remove the parcel that had arrived, a nautical dictionary with assorted bills and advertisements. There was another envelope, one without a return address label as well and I opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper, completely blank. I looked at the handwriting for clues but was at a loss, my name and address had been typed on it. I looked down the street and decided it had to have been a prank. Enough kids lived on my street it made the most sense.

Hook had left me six messages, one each day. I listened to them, of course, but I hadn't returned any of them. I had several reasons, the first of which was: I wasn't sorry either. I hadn't done anything wrong. Illegal? Yes. But wrong? No. The second was that I was a bit uncertain as to how to handle the sketchbook I'd saved from Hook's ship. Would he be grateful or would it be like how I reacted when my brother found my journal and taunted me about my writing? Third, was work. I had been working full time and outside of that, I'd been trying to relax. I was sort of concerned one patient had pink eye and I didn't want to catch it, so I was constantly checking for symptoms. I didn't sleep well either, my dreams were filled with Hook, crocodiles, and all sorts of bad memories.

My phone rang and I answered it as I gathered my things. I intended to visit Hook, I had scanned and printed the first page of his sketchbook so as to bring that to him. I wouldn't tell him I looked through all of it, just that I saw this, thought it was personal, and was keeping it safe. "Hello?" I asked, putting my keys in the right spot this time.

"Hi, this is Emma –"

"Hello, Sheriff, what can I do for you?" I asked. I had mailed the results discreetly, hadn't even stamped it and worn gloves. I wasn't stupid, I watched procedural crime shows. I wasn't going to leave any evidence that I did it and that I'd gone onto the ship.

"Any chance you can come down this morning?"

"Actually, I have one thing to pick up and I'm on my way to the station. Why? Is something wrong?" Wendy rubbed against my leg and begged for attention. I knelt down to pet her. She sat contentedly but didn't purr. Clearly, I wasn't doing a good enough job.

"Well…let's just say Hook's gone stir-crazy. Could you get down here soon? I'd rather explain in person…" Emma sighed. "I mean, it's not theatrics at all. Or if it is, he's managed to convince every single person and it's the best performance – it's Oscar worthy if it's fake."

Wendy looked annoyed as I stood up and grabbed my things. "I'm on my way." I told her.

Theatrics? I locked my door and got into my car. Hook and theatrics? I drove to the bookstore and picked up my order. I got back in the car and wondered what he could be doing that concerned them all so much. I imagined migraines, I imagined nausea, itching at his missing hand, psychosomatic issues because that's what stir-crazy is: it's the result of being inside too long that you just get all antsy. Hook's a pirate, he's used to a ship, with the option for a top deck setting. The open air, the sea, the docks – all of that. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he felt cooped up, but the question was "how cooped up" and what did he need to feel less cooped up?

I arrived at the Sheriff's station and got out of the car, surprised to see so many cars. I recognized Regina's and Mr. Gold's. What were they doing there? Snow White's car was there too, along with David's. So the whole powers of our town were stuck inside the station to discuss a case of cabin fever? Perhaps Hook had checked out of the hospital too soon. I grabbed my bag and walked towards the door of the station, only to have David open the door for me. "Glad you made it."

"Is everyone here?" I asked. "Doesn't her highness still teach at the school?" Or were the children done for lessons until…something happened? I wondered if I would see Henry.

"We wanted Snow's opinion," David informed me and I thanked him for holding the door open. Everyone turned at the sound of our approach. Gold's eyes narrowed, Regina looked right through me. "Well…here she is."

I peeked past them and noticed Hook's cell was empty. "Hi," I said, "what's wrong?"

"See for yourself," Emma suggested and led me to a room with a two-way mirror. I knew it was a mirror because Hook didn't look at me or anyone, he didn't respond to us and I put my finger against the glass. "He can't hear or see us." Emma confirmed my knowledge. But why was he in an interrogation room?

I watched Hook for a few minutes. His eyes were twitching and he looked pale. He couldn't sit still; his legs bounced, his arms moved, fingers tapped against the tabletop, as far as he could reach because he was chained. His eyes, twitching, looked about the room, as if hunting for the source of something.

"He has no idea we're watching him?"

"None." Regina confirmed. "I detect no magic from him or any foul play."

Archie nodded. "I've spoken with him. He fits all the criteria for a claustrophobic reaction. He's irritable, edgy, twitchy, and –"

"Ok…" I dragged the word out and then turned to the whole group. "And what exactly does this have to do with me?" Then I rethought what he said. "Oh, great! You want me to stick around with an irritated pirate? Thanks so much!"

Regina smiled at my sarcasm.

Mr. Gold sighed. Emma glanced at him and then looked at me, "You're his only friend. I'm willing to deputize you for the day and you can take Hook out to spend the day…out of the station. You can go shopping, go play on a playground, go to the park, but you have to stay where people can keep an eye on him. Gold's ok with this –"

"To a degree. I want him punished, not getting off with an insanity defense you've so cleverly thought of."

"No one's thought of anything," Snow White objected. "Except the truth and justice."

"He can have until five pm, then he's back in his box." Mr. Gold insisted.

God, next time I get cursed, I really hope I end up with better curse mates, I thought. "Deputize me?"

"We have jobs to do," Charming said. Jee, I see where he got his name, as if I didn't have a job. But I did have today off, so I suppose… "And you're his only friend. We can't let him out unsupervised."

"What exactly does a deputy do?"

"In this case, you're just to watch Hook and keep him from escaping or hurting others," Emma informed me. "You won't be a deputy after today."

I looked at Hook. "Sure, ok." I agreed. I'd helped him breathe through his pain, helped with the catheter, and a lot of other things in the hospital. "If it helps."

"Great," Emma handed me a badge and I stuck it in the pocket of my coat without even looking at it. I felt like a teenager again, getting assigned to babysit. She led me towards the door to the interrogation room but Gold stopped me.

"Five o'clock – not a second more," he warned me.

Everyone else hesitated, but I nodded, and he left. Then everyone left, except for Emma and David. Emma let me into the room and Hook turned to us. "Penny-love. Finally caved in, I see. I suppose you're here to beg forgiveness? Well, let's see you on your knees – go on then."

"Get over yourself, Killian," I rolled my eyes, reading the innuendo in his words. "In a long list of people I wouldn't sleep with, you're at the top of the list. And no, I won't beg forgiveness, though I do come with an offer."

"An offer?" He leaned towards me and I wanted to cover his eyes with my hand so I wouldn't see them twitch. It made me feel awkward. "Go on, then, love. Mesmerize me."

I looked at the clock. "Eight hours outside this building? Free to walk around? To see the sites and maybe even go down to the docks? Free to eat something you choose?"

Hook studied me. "Are you lying to me?"

"No."

"You lied to me once."

"I didn't know you'd react like that," I told him. "Nor did I realize just how much you'd poked at it." So removing catheters was uncomfortable, what the heck was I supposed to tell him? There were women in the maternity ward squeezing infants out their bodies, people in the ER for wounds, I was as gentle and fast as could be. "You're a pirate, shouldn't you be used to weird things?"

"Weird? Yes. Having a tube come out of my –"

"Stop," I held up a hand. "Your hours are ticking away, Hook. Yes or no?"

He leaned towards me. "What do you think?"

Emma unlocked Hook's cuff and he stood up shakily. "Hold on," I grabbed his wrist and timed his pulse. "What did you have for breakfast? How's your blood sugar? Any –"

"He ate."

"He ate what?" I asked Emma.

"A bowl of cereal."

"That's nutrition at its finest," I scoffed. "Come on. Let's get you a coat –"

"My coat –"

"That's being kept as evidence," Emma stopped him. "We have one for you." We left the room and David brought over a jacket. Hook accepted it with a look of utter disgust. But he put it on and we left the station.

Once outside, Hook paused and took a deep breath. "Smell that, lass? That's freedom."

I inhaled. "That's the smell of carbon monoxide and dying marigolds. You need to eat something nutritious. What kind of fruit do you like? Or we can stop somewhere and you can have a real breakfast."

Hook ignored me and took in deep breaths. He seemed better already. This was a good sign. I looked at the marigolds and went through the knowledge of the plant my mother had given me. It could reduce swelling and can help clear a stuffy nose, if you're desperate (you have to inhale it and then it irritates the nose so that you sneeze it all out, it's quite gross.) They were dying, though, someone hadn't taken decent enough care of them and they didn't appear to have been weeded properly. "Had you given any thought to your punishment, Hook? Did you think you could kill Mr. Gold and get away with it?"

"Actually, yes," he smiled at me. "And it's still what I would like to do. I only damaged him. Belle's memory loss isn't likely to be permanent and even if it is…who's to say he isn't coercing her into –"

"Actually, the less you tell me about this, the better. I think I saw that in an episode of Law and Order."

Hook turned around and looked at the station, as if for the first time. His eyes studied it seriously and I wondered what it was like to go through what he'd experienced: the strangeness of it all (he'd called nurses down to ask them about everything he couldn't figure out, so mainly stuff on the TV and the monitors. Once he figured out how to make the bed move up and down, I was forever finding him calling me down because of either 'look what I did' or 'I can't bloody breathe – how do I fix this?'), the inefficient revenge, the prison sentence, the car –

How was I going to get him into my car?

He hadn't had an option with the ambulance – he'd been unconscious. In fact, I'd had to tell him how he'd gotten to the hospital and then show him pictures of the ambulance (thank God for children's books!) whereupon he told me flat out that I was "insane" because he wouldn't ride in "that devil."

He hadn't had an option with Emma's car either. It was into the Sheriff's car of she'd probably have us sedate him.

"Hook." I said.

"Hmm?"

"Killian. We're going to have to get in the car."

"What?" He turned to me. "That bloody machine? That infernal…device? I can walk, thank you."

"We will," I promised. "But let's get closer downtown first? It'll take all of five minutes –"

"No. The only good modes of transportation are walking, a ship, or at worst, a cart."

"This is a cart, only because it doesn't have a hitch for horses it's lost the 't' in its name. Hence 'car'. Let's go."

I showed him how to open the door to the passenger's side and he got in. I got into the driver's seat and buckled up. He looked at me and waited for a comment. Finally he got it, and I told him to buckle up. I had to show him how to do that, which caused him to make snarky comments the whole time about how much I was enjoying this. I snapped the buckle into place and smirked at him. "I've got the keys, I know how this machine works – remember, Killian, I'm the one in control."

His smile became genuine and borderline sexual. "That's quite all right, love. Let's see you take control."

"Fine, first we're going to my house and you're going to promise not to get mad."

"Wait. What?"

I explained to him, very quickly, that I'd trespassed onto his ship (both in terms of Maine law and without asking him) and found his sketchbook. He looked out the window and for a moment, I worried he was going to shout. Instead he turned and asked how much I'd looked at it. I told him only the first couple pages and reached behind me to grab the envelope containing the printed copy out of my bag but Hook panicked.

"BOTH HANDS ON THE WHEEL!"

"Relax," I told him, "I've been driving for years. I know what I'm doing."

He closed his eyes and muttered something about how badly he wanted something to drink. At my house, I brought his sketchbook down and he tapped his fingers against it, but would not open it. I went through my fridge and cupboards before I offered a few choices for him to eat. "Fruit or a vegetable," I told him. "Dairy too. You've already had a grain, so how about…a yogurt parfait?"

He let me make one for him, so I added raspberries and blueberries to the plain yogurt and offered him some granola. I doubted he'd ever had a parfait, much less could spell it. "You need to eat better than just cereal," I told him as I poured a glass of juice for myself. He crunched loudly on the granola, as if to imply that it was cereal too.

"I'm a pirate," he reminded me. "Hard tack and gruel," his lips twitched and I smiled, he wanted to goad me into thinking his life was harder than it really was. He'd chosen the occupation and excelled at it, clearly he liked it enough to stay with it.

Wendy padded out into the kitchen and sniffed at Hook's leg. He looked down and smiled, "Well, hello there."

"That's my cat. Her name is Wendy."

"Oh, hello, Wendy darling, how –"

"No, it's not Wendy Darling, it's Wendy Pierce."

"What?"

I blinked and realized that we weren't saying the same thing, despite using the same words. He meant it as a term of endearment, I thought of Peter Pan. "My last name is Pierce. So that makes it hers too. Sorry, I just thought you were hinting at the book. I mean, I did read Peter Pan, and your corrections."

Hook laughed and then got down on the floor to pet Wendy. She sniffed his hand and then climbed onto his lap and purred. It was by far the fastest friendship she'd ever established, or at the very minimum, the fastest "this is an ok person" comment outside of Snow White. He didn't resort to the cooing voice that most people seemed to have with animals, he spoke to her like she was a tough lion and not a tamed tabby cat with one white ear on an otherwise all black body. "Why Wendy?" he asked.

"I found her on a Wednesday," I admitted. "I'm not terribly clever at names. My first pet – a fish – was named Fin."

Hook held up his arm, the one without his hand. "And I'm the one called 'Captain Hook', you can't exactly look for me to disgrace your name giving abilities now, can you?"

I cleared the table while Hook played with Wendy. She seemed delighted to have someone to play with that I felt guilty for not getting a second cat like all the websites encourage you to do. Though she probably just liked Hook because he was so…well, still childish in a way that matched a cat. No, not childish. The arrogance and I-will-get-what-I-want attitude. I've never met a cat without that attitude. And Hook had that, probably from being the captain.

The clock caught Hook's attention and he gestured to it. "Our time is limited. Shall we head downtown?"

"Yes, but we're taking the car."

"Oh," he sounded disgusted. "Why?"

"Because, if we do any shopping – and you might want to find something you can take back to the prison to keep you occupied – I don't want to carry it all around with us. Between the two of us, we have three hands."

"If Swan had given me my hook –"

"Can't do that, you're not licensed to carry a weapon."

"Who bloody says I need a 'license'?!"

"The state of Maine and really, the rest of the United States. If you really want to wave weapons around without consequences….might I suggest you buy your own island?"

We got into the car with less hassle, but not without fewer complaints. The one thing he did not complain about, however, was my choice in vehicle. He said nothing about the color, design, or anything to imply that my personal choice was horrendous. Small favors, it was an old car, but reliable and I knew how she worked.

A few minutes later, we were downtown and Hook got out of the car with relief. He left the jacket in the car. I left mine too, and transferred the deputy badge to my purse. I didn't know what to do with it.

The first store we went into rather fit the description of a child in Neverland: a candy store. We got two bags, as it was a pay-by-the-pound/fill-a-bag kind of store. Hook asked for my opinions on a lot since we weren't allowed to sample candy. He went for licorice and hard candy first, but got Skittles and M&Ms mixed up. "How do I know which is chocolate?" he asked. "They look the same."

"One has an S for Skittles – they're fruity. The other has an M, that's chocolate."

"Why not an 'f' for fruit and a 'c' for chocolate?"

"Because…reasons, I don't know. No one asked my opinion."

Hook's bag ended up being really expensive because of how much he'd picked out to try. I took out my credit card to pay for it and Hook looked pained when I paid. I didn't ask why, just took the bags and we headed on while Hook munched on a caramel coated apple. Since there were plenty of places that said "no food or drinks", we sat down on a bench and Hook worked his way to the core, getting caramel stuck in his beard. He offered me some of it but I declined. I had years of braces and I definitely remembered the first time I tried a caramel apple after getting them removed. Caramel was really hard to get out from between my teeth.

No matter the mess, he seemed to enjoy it, though there were times he struggled and appeared to wish desperately for his hook. He bit into the apple for the last time and then dropped the core on the ground. I took a wet wipe out of my purse and handed it to him. "For your face," I told him, and used another to pick up the core and drop it into a nearby wastebasket. He studied the wet wipe and then asked, "Love, why would I use your wet handkerchief?"

"It's not a handkerchief. It's a wet wipe, it's an antibacterial infused washcloth with water already there so…easy cleaning. You have caramel all over your face."

"I know, I can feel it." He grinned, "Want the sweetest kiss you'll ever find?"

I couldn't help myself. I laughed. He wiped the caramel off his face and then threw the wipe away in the wastebasket.

We continued to shop. He found a few books that interested him in the bookstore and I grabbed a new book. When I paid for the books, Hook's brows furrowed and his mouth tightened. "Too expensive?" I asked, signing my signature across the receipt with my usual flourishes and dotted the one 'i' in my name with a circle.

"I don't quite know what's expensive or not in this world, Penny-love, but that's not my complaint."

"Then what is?" I asked and we headed to the next shop.

Hook grabbed the door before I could and held it open for me. I stepped outside and he followed. "I'm letting you pay for everything."

I didn't understand, so I asked the problem and we stepped into the next shop. It happened to be a clothing store. Hook took a look around and raised a brow. "It's bad form for a gentleman to let a woman pay for it all. It says I can't afford you."

"You can't," I said matter-of-factly. "What do you say we get you some clothes of your own? Clothes you actually picked out? No leather." I added the last because I was sure my credit card would be declined at the price of leather. Secretly, I hoped this would be reimbursed somewhat.

A saleswoman approached us and she was happy to suggest a few things for Hook, openly flirting until she saw that he only had one hand. Then she kind of panicked and the manager came over to see my badge because this was the man who'd shot Belle! He tried to go for black and red colors, but I added a sea foam green shirt to the assortment for him to try on, just because a wardrobe should never be one single color. It should be varied.

Most of what Hook tried on were long sleeved shirts and a few pairs of pants. He did not like the cut of any of the pants, no matter which I suggested. We successfully found him a long sleeved white shirt made of t-shirt material with a skull and crossbones on it and a sweatshirt. He insisted I try on a dress and ordered me to buy it, but I put it back. It cost too much and I had no idea where I would wear a knee length lace eyelet dress that didn't have any sleeves. I didn't have anything that would go with it either. It would require buying shoes and a sweater or shawl and I just didn't see the trouble of buying a dress I would never wear that required more accessories.

"That's the trouble with you, darling," Hook told me as I swiped my card. "You don't treat yourself. You should. Live a little."

"I do," I told him. "I live a little through books and I'll have you know, I've climbed the highest trees in the Storybrooke woods."

"Receipt with you or in the bag?"

"With me, please," I tucked it into my wallet and I grabbed the bag of clothes.

We put the bags in the car before heading to lunch and as I placed them securely in my trunk, Hook leaned down to whisper into my ear. "I wish you would have bought that dress. You looked like…you look beautiful. You should wear more clothes that suit you. You constantly down play your looks. You should play them up, more."

I looked at him. "I'm not looking for anyone's attention."

"Aye, but you certainly attract it anyway."

"I hope you're hungry."

"Starved."

Granny's grew quiet when we entered and I was alarmed to see that Mr. Gold and Belle were eating there as well. Gold looked up at us and I sat down as far away from them as I could. Hook took the seat next to me so he could watch Gold, or so he said.

Ruby walked over to our table and placed the menus down. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Have any good ale?" Hook asked.

"Two waters," I piped up. "He's not allowed alcohol."

"Right," Ruby headed on over to get those and Hook leaned forward, taking his eyes off of Gold and glancing at Ruby's legs. I was really glad that she'd chosen pants and not a skirt, I didn't really want to go from hearing complaints about Gold to Hook's commentary on someone's "assets". I already heard enough about mine to write a book of bad pick-up lines.

I opened the menu and pretended to read it. Hook followed my example and soon we placed our orders. I asked for the Mac & Cheese and Hook requested a hamburger with fries.

"What do you want on that burger?" Ruby asked.

"Pardon, love?" Hook asked.

"Do you want cheese, olives, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, or what on the burger?"

"What is a burger? It says hamburger, you don't put cheese on ham." I wanted to giggle but I explained that it was really ground beef and told Ruby to make it plain. "Why is it called a hamburger if it's not made out of ham?"

"I think the Germans in Hamburg named it."

"What are Germans?"

Thank God for my iPod touch. I was able to show him maps and a bit around the world before Ruby arrived with our food. I placed the ketchup bottle in front of Hook and started on my mac and cheese. Hook picked up his fork and stabbed a fry with it.

He did end up liking the hamburger, but I ended up helping him cut it in half so he could hold it properly in one hand. "Do you have problems eating with your hook?" I asked, tearing off a bit of my garlic bread.

"No." Hook added some ketchup to his plate for his fries. "Anything I wanted to eat I figured out how."

"Personal question coming," I warned him, "did you have difficulty eating in front of people before you learned how to handle being with only one hand?"

Hook stabbed another French fry with his fork and I jumped a bit. "You're asking me that when he's sitting over there, watching me?"

"Why did he take your hand anyway?"

Hook's eyes narrowed. "All over a magic bean. He wanted it for some reason. Cut off my hand because I refused to give it to him. I tricked him, though and used the bean to get to Neverland, where I plotted my revenge."

Some plot, I thought.

"What gives him the right?" he asked, "To sit there and watch me?"

"You're watching him." I reminded Hook.

"I wish I had my hook."

"I'm really glad you don't."

"If I could end this here and now, I would."

"We're in the middle of a diner." I looked at the clock. "You have three hours left. Don't waste them."

Hook finished his meal and Ruby came by to ask if we wanted dessert. I declined but Hook looked through the dessert listing and asked me about the ones he hadn't heard of. Ruby walked over with a banana split big enough for three people and set down two spoons. "Enjoy you two," she winked at me.

"It's not a date," I told her, cheeks on fire.

"What's a date?" Hook asked, picking up a maraschino cherry by its stem.

"Um…nothing."

"Well?" he asked after a long pause where he'd taken a few bites of the split.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to eat some of this? She brought two spoons, you know, you can have some. Or are you afraid I'll infect you with some pirate disease?"

I picked up the spoon and scooped some ice cream out. "I was your nurse in the hospital, I know what diseases you have."

He frowned, "I don't have any dise- oh. Oh. Good for you! You got me there."

We finished and I paid for the meal. Mr. Gold walked over to us and Hook tensed. "What do you want, Crocodile?"

"What does he mean, Rumpel?" Belle asked. "Why did he call you a crocodile?"

"Haven't broken any laws, have you?"

"We went shopping and spent plenty of time outside, nothing illegal."

"Why don't you answer her?" Hook asked. "Tell her why. Tell her what you've done."

Belle turned to me since Gold ignored that. "Who is this man? What does he mean?"

"You took her from me," Hook snarled.

"You took her first!"

"That's enough!" I burst in. "Hook, let's go." I grabbed his arm.

"You killed her!" Hook yelled. "How dare you blame –"

I pulled him out of the diner and shoved him against the wall of the diner. "Killian, Killian, breathe." Hook glared at me. "Please. Breathe slowly. It's just like pain – in fact, it is. Anger is a response to pain of some sort. Just like we did with your ribs. Breathe slowly, don't rush it. Count to five in your head." Hook glowered, his face growing redder as he tried to ignore my instructions. Then he gave in and started to follow what I had said. I'd almost gotten him to calm down when Belle came rushing out.

"Who are you?" she demanded of him.

"Belle!" Mr. Gold called out.

"His name is Killian Jones," I told her. "Or Captain Hook. I'd advise you to stay away. Mr. Gold, for the safety and security of all inhabitants of this world, stay away until the trial, all right?" I took Hook's arm and pulled him to my car.

"He won't even tell her what happened!" Hook spat. "Doesn't want her to know what he did so she'll run away. He's a coward. Even now." Hook smashed his fist against my car and then again.

"Hook! Stop!" I grabbed him and forced him down to the ground. "That's my car, pirate, so unless you're going to loot and plunder her for her bounty, which by the way, is all of a handful of pennies and some dimes, stop hitting my car. Breathe, slowly, and let me see your hand. It is, after all, your only hand. Don't go making yourself handless." He extended his hand to me and I looked it over. The backs of his knuckles had ripped flesh and some minor swelling, but not much had really damaged it. "You might have a nice bruise here tomorrow."

I looked up at Hook's face to see if he'd heard a word I'd said. He hadn't. His lips were pressed together tightly and his face quivered. Redness surrounded his eyes and water hung in them. "Oh, Killian," I pulled him into a hug. "Don't. He's not worth your time, your breath, your thoughts, and especially not your tears."

"I'm not –" his voice wavered and nearly broke. "It's her. I miss her." I felt his hot breath on my neck and he buried his face between my shoulder and neck. Droplets of salty tears fell on my skin, but a very little amount.

"I know," I said, and I spoke for both of us. "But Killian, she wants you to be happy. If she truly loved you, she'd want you to be happy. And she did love you. Don't waste your breath on this."

"You call me Killian," he commented and pulled back from me. "Why?"

"Because I won't do Gold the honor of calling you by a name he created in a moment of darkness." I wiped a tear away from his face. "Killian, let's go to your ship. Be with her there."

He willingly got in the car and I drove down to the dock. His tears had dried by then and he was joking with me. I knew what it was. He was ashamed of himself, he had been vulnerable with me for a while.

"Give me a moment?" he asked. I nodded and he went onto his ship. I saw him for a moment, and then he disappeared below deck. I took out the purchase I'd made before going to the prison. The seagulls cried and flew above me as I took off my shoes and rolled up my pant legs. Then I stuck my feet in the water and looked up at the clouds.

Killian returned to me and sat down. He held out a necklace to me. "It was hers," he said. "She didn't like it all that much but…it was the – well, doesn't matter. I want you to have it."

"No, Killian," I shook my head.

"Please. Please, Penny. You're the only friend I have here. A real friend. And you're right. She would want me to be happy. So I'm making friends."

"Well, I have a gift for you too," I held out what I'd bought this morning. A sketchbook, sketching pencils, and felt tip pens.

He laughed and then opened it. For a bit he played with the pencils and I put the necklace on. He watched and commented, "It looks beautiful on you."

The droplet of fire colored stone rested just below the hollow of my throat. "Milah must have had exquisite taste."

"Shush," he said and began to sketch. I set my alarm to go off to give us time to return to the station and then I leaned back to watch the waves. Killian sketched and sketched, adding more and more.

"He took someone from me," I said quietly. "My baby sister. It was to save my brother and our home from Regina – my family fell apart. The big problem with it all is that I don't know what happened. If she's alive. If I should look for her. If she's dead. How it happened. What he wanted from her. Not knowing is the worst."

He said nothing for the longest time. He resumed his sketching and said nothing. I said nothing. Finally he stopped sketching and spoke. "No, Penny-love, it's all equally horrible." The pencil sounds started again. I watched the clouds and then my alarm sounded. Killian willingly got into the car and I drove him back to the station.

Mr. Gold and Archie were waiting for us when we arrived. Killian kissed my cheek and went willingly to his cell, where Emma locked him in. She looked at the bags we'd brought back and assured me she'd go through them to make sure they were kept safe. I returned my badge and bid them good evening while Archie went to talk with Killian, to see if he'd gotten better from his outing.

Gold followed me out to my car. "Miss Pierce," he addressed me. I stopped. "Here we are again. If I might…" he held out an envelope. "For watching over the villain and for keeping him from Belle. You did an excellent job today, dear."

I looked at the envelope. "Is it money?"

"Yes."

"Keep it." I drove away but I knew I would be seeing Gold again soon.