Hello all! I was excited to get some review feedback with the last installment; please keep it up! Hearing that people are reading and liking the story is just insanely exciting to me. Sorry that it's been a bit longer wait for this chapter, but I hope it is still enjoyable. This one continues on with the imagined "missing moments" from Season 3, post-"Lost Girl" in particular. I'm sad to report that I still don't own Killian, nor anything else related to "Once Upon A Time"; I'm just playing in their world.

"Islands in the Stream"

Chapter Six: Between Tattered Hearts

"No more will you cry

Baby, I will hurt you never;

We start and end as one in love forever…"

Sighing as she hears the sound of footsteps breaking through the branches and undergrowth, Emma wonders why they all can't just leave her alone for a moment. Henry is out in this wilderness alone somewhere; it's already getting chilly at night, and she finds herself shivering involuntarily at the thought of him cold and hungry with no one who care for him. She came to rescue her son, but all she has to show for it so far is a blank page of parchment and only Pan's word that it's a map. Beyond that, his taunts threatening her parents' lives and the goading that she is already too late for Henry's forgiveness and trust ring mockingly through her mind. It's too much that while she is trying to keep control on her tumultuous emotions and figure out this puzzle that her long lost parents keep trying to bond with her, advise her, and bolster her with their never-ending hope and optimism – optimism that has never been of any use to her in the real world.

She is about to ask either her mom or dad, whichever one it is, to please just give her a minute, she needs to think, catch her breath, and then she'll come back to the campsite before full dark. Before she gets those words out though, she realizes it isn't either one of them. Though she hears this person coming, it isn't the crunching, stumbling racket the rest of them make as they navigate this unknown island's jungle. This person's progress is sure and measured, even the way his steps come to her ears makes it clear he knows his path. Only when she can tell he has come to a stop, and both his presence and the feeling of his gaze on her makes her skin tingle, does Emma turn to face Hook.

His left eyebrow quirks up, and he looks back at her expectantly, as if anticipating that she had been about to send whoever was intruding on her solitary moment packing.

Emma just tilts her head at him, biting back the urge to snap and demand what he wants. She is frustrated by everything in this land, this situation, and her inability to get any closer to her son, but none of that is Hook's fault. She could not have gotten this far without him, would not have even had a chance to follow Henry and his kidnappers if Hook hadn't offered them his ship, and no matter how much he manages to push every one of her buttons, she owes him enough to be civil at the very least.

"Are you alright, Love?" he asks finally, his voice lilting playfully, always managing to sound more than a bit flirtatious, even when he's offering seemingly innocent conversation. She blows out a long breath, weary, concerned, and not even sure how to put all her thoughts into words. She shakes her head slightly, ducking her face so she doesn't have to meet that glimmering, clear-blue stare of his that can read her so clearly. "I'll manage," she responds with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Aye, of that I have no doubt," he assures, giving her a half smile and taking her answer as invitation enough to step further into the clearing she has found. She doesn't move or tell him to leave, so he comes to rest leaning against the large rock that she is sitting on with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs.

"You're awfully confident in someone who has no clue what she's doing," she retorts with an unladylike snort of laughter. There's no real venom in it, but she can't figure out why he seems so determined to see her as such a "tough lass", as he is always calling her. She feels anything but strong right now.

"What is it, Swan?" Hook asks, leaning in to try to meet her averted eyes. His voice is softer now, all jest gone and almost soothing in its tone. "Henry is here. We will find him. Is something else troubling you?"

She hesitates, debating whether or not to open up, not sure if she can bare her fears and guilt and insecurities right now without losing her grip completely. She doesn't know why it's Hook she is about to take into her confidence, and yet, in some strange way, it also makes perfect sense. They have had an understanding from the moment they met, and when she lets herself consider it, she knows that really they are two scratched, tarnished, ill-used sides of the same coin. The scars and hurts she has borne have been his as well in more cases than most people would have in common. Finally, she meets his eyes, drinks in his full attention and support beside her, and admits, "Peter Pan came to speak to me while I was getting the berries for supper earlier. He- he said some things I don't want to believe are true…"

Hook draws in a sharp breath at her words, looking at her as if it's a miracle that she is still there before him and hasn't been spirited away or vanished into thin air.

She is already shaking her head at her own words however. "I know I'm being ridiculous. He's just trying to get in my head, playing one of his sick little games, but…"

"Hush, Swan, don't be so hard on yourself," he cuts in before she can go any further. He stills her when his hook comes up to rest beneath her chin, the cool curve of metal tipping her face up to look into his eyes once more. "Hang in there, Emma. Whatever he tried to make you think or feel, don't believe it. Do not let him stop you."

It was as if those genuine, kind words were both a caress and a battering ram. She leaned her head on his shoulder, actually curling herself into the shelter of his side when his arm came around her of its own accord to pull her in. Not, however, before he saw her face and the steely resolve it usually bore, crumple and her frame shake with silent tears.

Emma doesn't know what has come over her, what it means that she is letting him see her like this, or how she is going to look him in the eye once they pull apart. All she can hear is the cruel refrain, 'Henry doesn't forgive you either,' rattling through her head.

Seconds, and then minutes, pass between them before she realizes that Hook is rocking her back and forth ever so slightly, gently attempting to soothe her, and that his one good hand is tenderly stroking her hair. She finally sniffles and attempts to sit up straight again, wanting to apologize for her breakdown and hoping she hasn't lost all authority in front of him. "Sorry about that—" she starts, but he interrupts before she can get any farther.

"Don't apologize to me, Darling. You've nothing to be sorry for. I would say that has been long overdue, and I'm honored you would allow be to be here with you."

She nods and then lets herself feel absolved of the embarrassment and awkwardness she had been dreading. Still, she needs him to understand. "Pan told me I would be an orphan again before I left this island," she tells him honestly, squaring her shoulders for strength and then finishing with the worst blow, "and he said that Henry won't want to come with me when we get to him. He hasn't forgiven me for giving him up when he was born."

"Bloody hell, Emma!" Hook pulls her to himself again, in what he hopes is a bracing sort of hug, letting a quick ghosting of his lips peck the top of her head as he does so. "You really bring out the worst in that little sociopath."

He actually draws a chuckle from her this time, and Emma marvels at his ability to provide her with some levity, even when things look truly dark. She is startled when he continues more seriously though, his words so vehement that it's as though they are being forcibly wrung from him. "You lad loves you, Emma. He sought you out and asked you to be in his life. Do not let Pan that that truth away from you. As for being orphaned and alone again…you won't be if I can bloody well help it."

Emma studies his profile as his eyes focus on her until she can't stand the wealth of emotion and glances away. When her eyes come back to him, he is looking off somewhere into the past that she cannot see. It strikes her that they are two people who have both been lost – adrift and alone – long enough. His vow gives her strength, and she allows her fingers to twine with his for a moment, giving his hand a quick squeeze of gratitude before she stands to lead the way back to the others for the night. 'We're not alone anymore,' she silently promises herself, and him, 'we'll end that now…together.'