A/N- A bit longer for the update on this, sorry. To make up for it, how about an extra long chapter?

Thank you for the faves and follows, and I always appreciate the reviews as well!

CHAPTER 3

Killian looked up from his charts and waved at the brown-haired boy who was hastily making his way down the docks. There was a bright, wide smile on his face as he made his way over to where Killian was seated. Looking upon Swan's son, Killian was struck by an overwhelming familiarity in the shape of the boy's face and color of his eyes. He was starting to look more and more like his father every day, Killian noted.

"Ahoy, Master Mills! What brings you down here today?" Killian asked cheerfully, folding up the charts and ship logs he had been going over and pushing them to the side.

Henry tossed his school bag onto the bench and took a seat next to him. With a slight shrug he said, "It's Saturday."

Killian chuckled. "So it is, lad. Why aren't you with your mothers?"

Picking up a strangely shaped nautical device that was being used as a paperweight, Henry twirled it around in his hands, studying it closely. "They're busy."

"And the Charmings?"

"Also busy."

Killian nodded. "Ah. So you've been shipped off to me again, eh?"

Henry's eyes shot up. "No! I mean, I didn't come here because everyone else is busy, I just wanted to just hang out, you know," he pout, placing the object back where it had come from.

It wasn't that Killian thought the lad was lying, but he sensed that there was something more weighing on the boy's mind. But he knew Henry well enough by now to know that if he wanted to ask a question, he would just come right out and say it. So Killian merely smiled and clapped the boy on the back affectionately. "Well, lad, while I don't have the use of any of these fine sailing vessels today," he smirked, waving a hand to indicate the two rundown tugs boats and small row boat left moored to the docks, "perhaps there is something else we could find to do." He embellished the thought with a lifted brow.

Scurrying over the bench, Henry stood up and gave a mock salute, saying cheerfully, "At your disposal, Captain."

Killian's heart flamed with the gesture and he fought hard to wipe the goofy grin from his face. He schooled his look back into his more rigid Captain persona and nodded curtly. "Aye. Good form, lad. Now, what say you to a fishing lesson?"

Letting his hand flop down to his side, Henry rolled his eyes. "I already know how to fish, Killian," he said in a somewhat disappointed voice. "Leroy and the dwarves take me out all the time."

Running a hand across his stubble, Killian studied the boy with a keen blue gleam in his eye. "No doubt those dwarves have taught you about using a line and hook, but have you ever learned to cast a net?"

"A net? I've used one that looked like a tennis racket before. It had a long handle, the end was shaped like this-" he demonstrated by drawing an oval shape through the air with his finger.

Killian huffed and laid his hook arm across the boy's shoulder while he used his other hand for emphasis. "No, lad. A true fisherman's net is a very useful tool. Young men, like yourself, spend years learning how to braid and knot the hemp line to create a net worthy enough to catch even the largest of hauls." He strolled over to the planks in front of the harbor master's office and pulled a roughly woven webbing from its place on a barrel and returned to the seat where Henry remained.

He continued his demonstration, thumbing the braids through his hand and showing the craftsmanship to the enraptured boy. "It's vital to life aboard a pirate ship, m'boy, as the nets were what we used to catch our dinner. In point of fact, your very life might depend upon the strength of your net. Why, once at sea in Neverland, a giant sea beast with tenticles the size of trees attacked the Jolly and all I had available was the net." Henry's eyes grew wide, hanging on every word. "And let me tell you, lad, you haven't dined until you've had roast sea beast."

"That sounds awesome. Do you think you could teach me to catch one?" Henry begged.

With a chuckle, Killian ruffled the boys hair, earning him an annoyed (but not really annoyed) glare. "Well, lad, if such creatures exist in the oceans of this realm, then I daresay I can. However, perhaps we should start small for now, eh?"

Bobbing his head excitedly, Henry agreed and they got to work.

Hours later, Henry was able to cast out a net, throwing it so far that it spread out wide on the water and drifted evenly down into the greenish depths. With help from Killian, who provided the muscle, he even managed to wrangle a few impressive fish hauls, to the wonder of the local fisherman. Each time bringing up his catch with a triumphant grin.

It was while they were taking a break in the late afternoon and drinking a syrupy concoction Henry called 'root beer' (although Killian complained the name was entirely in bad form as the drink contained neither 'root' nor 'beer'), Henry turned to him and said, "Thanks for today. You're a really good teacher, Killian."

Taken aback by the compliment, Killian couldn't help the rush of blood to his cheeks. "My thanks, lad. You make an excellent pupil."

Henry frowned, an all too familiar look that must have been passed down from his mother, and twirled his bottle in his lap. "And I think you are really good for my mom," he said shyly. He caught Killian's startled gaze and grew bolder. "She smiles all the time now. I've never seen her like that. And I know she really likes you."

"You do?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, I mean, she looks at you like Grandma looks at Grandpa, you know. And I'm old enough to know that means she loves you."

Killian swallowed hard, blinking away the dampness in his eyes before the boy could see. Instead, he downed the rest of the bottled drink in a fierce gulp. When Henry showed no signs of continuing, Killian decided it was time to take a risk and ask the boy a question that had been plaguing him for quite some time. "Lad…Henry…your mother means a great deal to me. As do you. However, I know the things I've done have been less than heroic at times." He sighed wondering why this was so hard to admit. He was a pirate, for heaven's sake!

"I hope you know that I would go to any length to prove my worth to you and your mother. And likewise do anything for your happiness." He gathered his courage, gripping the bottle tightly in his hand and studiously fixed his gaze on Henry's. "So, if… if you'd have me, I like to be a part of your family some day."

Henry was unnaturally quiet. Panicked, Killian wondered if he might have overstepped his bounds with the boy. Suddenly, Henry looked up and asked, "Are you saying you want to marry my mom?"

His heart thudded wildly, and it was like time stopped. "Aye, eventually. And only if she'll have me," he said in a choked voice, trying to keep his gaze locked onto the boy's.

After an agonizing silence that in reality probably only lasted a millisecond, Henry's face broke into a happy grin. "Cool," he said, as if the whole question of Killian marrying his mom was a foregone conclusion. "And for what it's worth, I kind of already think of you as part of the family."

What a difference between that and what the lad had told him while under the curse! Maybe there was truly hope for him yet.

If Henry hadn't gone back to the shoreline then, he would have seen Killian's struggle not to let his emotions take over.

He, Killian Jones, Captain bloody Hook, was a part of something. Not just anything. A part of a family.

Killian joined him at the shore in completely stunned silence, absently going through the motions of casting out the nets. He couldn't get Henry's words out of his head. He wanted to believe them so badly.

Perhaps that was why he didn't notice the large fish hook twisted around the length of rope until after it had torn a chunk of his palm, leaving it smarting wickedly and dripping a large stream of blood. Knowing Swan would kill him if he cursed in front of her boy, he bit his tongue back from the string of agonized filth he wanted to unleash and choose to redirect the pain to clenching his jaw.

Henry's eyes went wide at the sight of the blood dripping from the wound, but he maintained his composure, sprinting off to retrieve medical supplies from the harbor master's office.

Searching for a clean scrap of cloth to wrap around his bleeding palm, his mind flashed back to performing the same gesture for Emma atop the beanstalk. It was if that memory, coupled with Henry's earlier announcement, made the physical pain simply melt away. Before Henry even got back, the hot ache had dulled, the blood congealing quickly. Henry obviously wasn't about to take any chances on Killian's welfare, however, and determinedly set about fixing him up.

The whole thing made him feel a blissful state of contentment that he had known for centuries.

…..

Across town, sitting at her desk in the Sheriff's Station, Emma Swan suddenly jumped up in pain as a sharpness cut across her palm out of the blue. It was like someone had just shoved a large needle through her the meaty flesh and began twisting. Fighting back the pain and cursing under her breath, she slowly turned over her right hand, expecting to see blood or an angry red rash. Instead, there was nothing wrong with it at all, not even a change of color where she could have bruised it.

With a frown, she clenched her jaw against the pain, and traced a finger where the epicenter seemed to be located. She could feel the warm flood of her magic going to the spot, and soon enough the pain had dulled. She searched her desk for anything that might have caused it, but found nothing.

What the hell was that?

Killian and Henry strolled merrily down the street toward the station, Henry swinging his back back and forth between them while Killian whistled an old sea shanty. To an outsider, it would have appeared like nothing more than a father and son spending time together.

When they reached the station, the sun was just touching the horizon and Emma was already in the process of locking up. She turned to see them waiting for her and she couldn't help the butterflies in her chest at the sight of her dark haired pirate making somewhat goofy facial gestures to her son, who was laughing hysterically.

"Hey, guys. Have a good day?" She asked, slipping an arm over her son's shoulder and noting how he seemed taller than the last time she had done that.

Henry immediately began to recount the day's events with fervor, gushing about all that he had learned.

Killian stood nearby, scratching his ear in that adorable nervous fashion, and met her gaze with a soft light behind his blue eyes. She moved closer to slip her hand in his when she noticed the bandage wrapped around it.

"Killian, what happened?" She asked, her instinct pinging wildly that it was no coincidence his hand had been injured in the same spot she had felt that phantom pain in earlier.

He shrugged. "This Hook got hooked on a hook, love. Tis nothing." Next to him, Henry roared with laughter and clutched his sides.

Emma lifted the hand closer and met his eye, seeking permission to study the wound. He gave her an unconcerned nod and she quickly unwrapped the bandages. As she suspected, there was a two inch fissure right through the meaty part of his palm, exactly where she had felt the pain. Rewrapping it, she ran a hand through her hair and tried to come up with a different explanation.

"You alright, Swan?" He asked, concerned etched in his brow.

She schooled her face into a soft mask, and replied, "Yeah, just worried it might have been infected or something."

"No need to worry, love. You're boy patched me up quite well. Perhaps he should consider a career as a medic?"

Emma snorted at that and winked at her boy. "I think you'd have to talk him out of wanting to be a knight first."

"Or a pirate," Henry mumbled, so quietly Emma almost didn't catch it.

Killian seemed not to have heard him, and continued on as he was before. "Well, Swan, Master Mills, I thank you for a very enjoyable day, but I believe this is where we must say our farewells," he bowed to her graciously and gave a Captain's salute to Henry. As he passed by her on the way to his room at Granny's, he whispered in her ear, "Unless I see you later, darling."

Emma flashed him a wicked grin and they watched him go until he was swallowed up in the gathering gloom.

….

"So you really like hanging out with him, don't you?" Emma asked, her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets to keep them from feeling the evening chill. Henry never seemed to be too affected by the cold and she wondered if it was a product of living in Maine all his life or if it was just a boy thing.

He grinned up at her, his teeth and eyes showing up in the purple dusk. They were nearly at the loft, having walked back from the station after departing Killian. "Of course. He's a pirate," Henry stated as if that explained everything.

Suspicious at his too easy answer, she was about to ask him for more detail when a loud bark echoed down the street. Looking up, Henry squinted in the gloom and called, "Pongo?" before sprinting off down the street.

Emma followed his direction and closed in on her son, who had nearly reached the black and white Dalmatian already. "Henry, what's Pongo doing out here?"

Her son was trying to grab for the dog's leash which was fluttering loosely behind it, but the dog had other plans. It bolted for the opposite side of the street. Although it was evening and Storybrooke, it was still likely there might be a few passing cars out and Emma's heart pounded as the dog dashed into the road.

"Pongo!" Henry shouted, forgetting to watch for cars himself in his attempt to catch the dog.

Emma bolted after her boy, thankful that as far as she could tell, there were no cars on the road. "Henry, be careful!" She scolded.

Pongo was gaining speed, almost too far for either of them to catch up. Emma briefly wondered where Archie was and why his dog had gotten loose in the first place. Suddenly the dog stopped, stilling with a slight whimper and sitting obediently on the sidewalk, its tongue lolling to the side, ears cocked.

From the shadows of the storefront, a woman emerged, speaking softly to the dog and running a gloved hand down its fur.

Henry skidded to a stop, out of breath and panting, and blinked at the strangers unannounced appearance. "Hey! You caught him!" He commented in amusement. A moment later, Emma sidled up behind her son and eyed the stranger warily.

She was dressed in a fuzzy sweater, skinny jeans and heels, and her black-and-white streaked hair, poised demeanor, and expertly applied make-up suggested a woman of class and wealth. Running the leash through one hand, she continued to pet the dog with the other. "A beautiful animal, if not a bit head-strong." She tilted her head up at Emma and Henry and smiled warmly. "Is he yours?" She asked, looking to Henry.

"No," he replied, "he belongs to Doctor Hopper. But I take care of him some times."

Emma felt her magic stirring in her veins and an uneasy feeling washed over her. She tried not to think ill of the woman who had just saved Henry's favorite animal, but something about her wasn't sitting right.

"Oh, then it's no wonder he likes you so much," she said with a teasing tone. She held out the leash to Henry, but before he could take it, Emma stepped in. For some reason, the thought of the woman near her son made her uncomfortable. Then again, Emma always felt uncomfortable when strangers got near her son, so maybe it was nothing but her motherly instincts.

"Thank you," she replied curtly, reaching out for the leash. The woman's gloved hand slipped against Emma's palm and a sudden icy chill went down her spine. She shivered and pulled back the leash, tugging on it slightly.

The woman's cool gaze studied her for a minute, but her expression remained genuine. "Not a problem. I'm a dog lover myself, and I hate to see an animal in peril."

Before Emma could stop her, the woman shook back her two-toned hair and made a sharp turn, strolling back into the night were she had appeared with only the click-clack of her high heels trailing in her wake. After she was gone, Emma realized she didn't even get the woman's name.

And by the time she made it home (after Pongo was safely returned to his worried owner) she had forgotten about the encounter entirely.

…..

"Did you succeed in your task, dearie?" Gold asked, leaning heavily against his cane. Ursula and Maleficent hovered nearby, just inside the protective circle of trees where they had met earlier.

Cruella rolled her eyes indignantly. "Of course I did. Placing a tracking spell on her was child's play. Really Rumble, your faith in me is astounding. How did your wife ever put up with you?"

He clenched his jaw and ignored Cruella's taunts. "And is the curse almost ready?" He asked the others.

Maleficent looked up with a sneer, and Ursula crossed her arms. She replied, "We have collected all of the ingredients, but the magic it takes to cast it will require 24-hours. By this time tomorrow, it will be ready."

Rumple clutched his cane, lost in thought. He was so close now, he could feel the weight of darkness settling down upon him. His happy ending could not come too soon. Thankfully, these ladies didn't know that since he had returned, he had been keeping a very close eye upon his wife, and what he was seeing was profoundly upsetting. She had met someone else! Some sort of thick-browed tosser. And he was walking around town, holding hands with his Belle! His wife! Oh, how he would pay!

But not while Belle literally held all the power in her hands. She had his dagger, and there was no way she would let Rumple anywhere near her.

"Excellent," he seethed, the eagerness to be rid of his dagger and free to make his own fate nearly killing him.

His happy ending couldn't come soon enough.

….

As Emma lay in bed, she couldn't stop thinking about the incident with her hand. It seemed to her like some sort of sympathy pain, but coupled with magic, she wondered if it might be something more.

And she couldn't figure out why she wasn't more worried about all of this. Old Emma would have rushed right out and never stopped until she knew the truth. Old Emma would have kept Killian at arm's length, worried that he might be getting too close. Old Emma wouldn't have trusted that whatever connection they had was real.

But she didn't want to be Old Emma. She was really enjoying New Emma.

Her theory about a magical connection was confirmed later that night when she had a startlingly vivid dream of Killian's naked body lathering itself in the shower. In the vision, it was if she was looking down at his body, but through his eyes. It was like she could feel the way he felt; from the scalding hot water on his flesh, to the slide of his hands over his soapy chest, his muscles firm underneath. But it was the very real sting of the water on the fresh cut that was the biggest surprise. As was the fact that she could keenly feel the absence of the left hand, the phantom sensation of not having the attached appendage deeply disturbing.

Holy shit! I'm seeing what Killian is seeing right now! She thought, waking and bolting upright in her bed. Followed weirdly by I never knew how awful missing a part of your body could feel.

As soon as her heart stopped racing and the panic subsided, she closed her eyes and let the images wash back over her, this time more acutely aware of what was happening. Killian was still in the shower, applying some sort of tea tree scented shampoo to his hair. The way it felt to trace his (her) hands over his (her) silky locks, the warm water tracing down his (her) smooth skin was beginning to send wicked sparks through her entire body.

This is too much.

She got up and quickly threw on her sweater and jeans from earlier and prayed neither of her parents were awake as she slipped from the loft, racing for the bed and breakfast in record speed.

She was out of breath and more turned on than she had ever been by the time she reached his door, still occasionally having flashes of him touching himself in the shower. When she arrived, she didn't even bother knocking, knowing he was otherwise occupied, and used her skills to unlock his door.

Flinging her clothes off, she quietly let herself into the bathroom and let the warmth of the steam rush over her trembling body. When she climbed in behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, their bodies sliding together in delicious slickness, he didn't even flinch. It was as if he had known she was coming.

"Hey," she whispered in his ear, "I think we need to talk."

He growled and spun around, pulling her against his naked hardness. Dipping his head, the water running down over them, he replied tersely, "Later." A moment later, he was kissing her with his particular heady mix of passion, desperation and adoration, and nothing else mattered except how good it felt to be in his arms.

….

"So, what you are saying is that you can read my mind?" Killian asked, a slight tinge of fear and embarrassment behind his eyes. They were wrapped up in his blankets, naked and sated, and he was anything but tired. "If you wanted to know what kind of dirty thoughts this pirate has had about you, Swan, all you had to do was ask."

She giggled and pinched his side. He loved this side of her. So at ease and relaxed, so sure of his feelings towards her. He wanted more than anything to make her this happy always.

She looked away, her sparking green eyes lost in thought. "No, I don't think that's what this is. Ever since last night, I've been noticing these strange sensations and thoughts and even flashes of memories that I never realized weren't coming from me. I think they're yours, Killian. I think I'm feeling things you feel or think strongly. And then there's this—" she picked up his hand and ran a finger over the newly formed scab. "I felt this when it happened. It felt like I had been stabbed—"

"But there was no wound on you," Killian supplied, finally interpreting what she had been trying to tell him all morning. He pulled back his hand so that he could run it over her cheek and through her golden hair. "I'm sorry that it caused you pain, love."

She rolled her eyes and swatted him in the arm. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not like it was your fault."

He sighed, wishing she could understand just how guilty he felt anyway. Rationally, he knew he wasn't to blame, but the thought of his Swan in pain sent his rational side out the window.

"So, what do we do? I'd rather you not see all the tantalizing ideas I have in store for you, Swan. A man's got to have some secrets."

She gave him a flirty, "And so does a woman," but it lacked any real conviction because clearly what he had said struck something in her. He could see her eyes dim with memory.

Secrets. There were still secrets between them, things she didn't want anyone to know about her ever, and certainly not him. And could she handle seeing his mind? 300 years of torment and torture, trapped in the darkest places of the soul. Gods, he wouldn't wish that on anybody, least of all her.

As if reading his emotions (and at this point, that was probably true), she said, "Maybe we should ask Regina if she knows what happened. I'm guessing that whatever I did to secure your heart had some side effects."

"Aye, I was thinking the same. Mind you, not all the side effects have been unpleasant. I quite relished the dream you had of me the other night." He smirked at her trying to help her lose that fear in her eyes with his usual charm.

She stared at him, mouth open, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her cheeks that were turning a bright shad of red. "What? How did you know that?"

"Swan. Open book, remember. When I get awakened by an especially vivid dream where I'm dressed in a—what did you call it in the dream?—naughty businessman's suit- and I'm having my way with you on top of my desk, I'm pretty sure I am going to quite curious where it came from the next morn. After that, it was simply a matter of paying attention to those thoughts and feelings that weren't my own."

"So you knew that this was happening?" She asked with a tinge of hostility.

He cleared his throat and gave her a stern look to assure her he hadn't been toying with her. "I wasn't sure what it was, love, all I knew was that it didn't seem particularly worrisome, and I trusted that you would sort it out if it did. Besides, it was infrequent at best. Like you said, it seemed linked to the strongest thoughts and emotions."

Emma sighed, evidently satisfied with his answer and rolled back into his arms. Over her shoulder, she said, "I still think we should see Regina. All magic comes with a price, and I'd really hate it if that price meant I was, I don't know, controlling you or draining your life force or something."

Nuzzling his beard against her ear, he replied, "Swan, you're a bloody brilliant lass, but you do say the queerest things."

…..

"Oh look. If it isn't Do-Gooder Barbie and her S&M Ken. To what do I owe the displeasure."

"Regina—" Emma corrected, mentally rolling her eyes. She thought they were past all the rude comments and scathing remarks. She thought they might be well, maybe not friends, but cordial.

With a long-suffering sigh, Regina opened the door wider, allowing them entrance into her home and waved them over to the sofa and chair. Regina was a little less polished today, actually wearing a loose blouse and a tight pair of jeans over her normal blazer and dress affairs. Emma wondered if the stress of losing Robin was finally taking its toll on her. "Is this about Gold, the town line, or something else?"

Emma glanced quickly at Killian who gave her an it's your show eyebrow lift. "I guess something else."

Regina settled into a chair and appeared bored by the couple, although Emma could tell by the way her body was still tense that she was anything but. "So," Emma began sheepishly, "you know how I asked about the heart thing?""

The Queen's only response was an eye roll and a slight shrug indicating that Emma should just get to the damn point already.

"Well, here's the thing. I think I may have done something wrong."

Killian stirred uncomfortably, but as of yet hadn't tried to make his presence known. He was thinking so loudly that Regina would probably take her admission as a sign of weakness and use it to taunt her and how he was ready to jump to her defense, she could literally hear his voice in her head. She concentrated and shot back a quick mental 'It's fine, just behave yourself' warning that she hoped was received. When his eyes widened and his whole body flinched at the mental intrusion, she knew he had heard her, too.

Wow, this is really real. I'm telepathic. Fuck!

"Why am I not surprised?" Regina commented dryly. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning and tell me exactly what you did to Captain Leatherpants."

Swallowing back the quips she desperately wanted to make, Emma related exactly what she had done, explaining how the spell had transitioned into something that seemed to reverberate back into her as well.

Surprisingly, Regina didn't snap at her afterwards. In fact, she seemed genuinely concerned. "Miss Swan, what you did shouldn't have been possible."

"What did I do?" Emma and Killian exchanged worried glances, tightly holding each other's hands. "It doesn't feel like a bad thing. Is it a bad thing? How is it bad?"

Regina stared daggers at her and let out a long suffering sigh. "I didn't necessarily say it was bad, Emma. What you did was, well, it was a type of soul bond. You bond your heart and souls together. Not only are you feeling each other's feelings and seeing each other's thoughts, you are bound physically as well."

Killian sat forward, a pained look in his eye. "Does this mean our live forces are joined as well? Say one of us should perish, what would happen to the other?"

Emma felt the racing pulse of his heart in her hand. Why was he so concerned about this? Was he worried she might kill him if she died? He frowned suddenly and gave her a haunted look over his shoulder.

"Quite possible, I should say. Though, truthfully, I'm no expert in this kind of magic. This is light magic at its strongest. Light magic that I have never seen done before. You need to speak to someone better acquainted with it, Miss Swan."

"You mean the fairies?"

Regina nodded. "Yes. They would be the best source. But to the best of my knowledge, yes, this is something that could kill the both of you, and, no, Captain, I have no idea how to reverse it." She gave him a pointed stare and stood up, clearly meaning their tete-a-tete was at an end.

Killian rose, giving the Queen a curt bow and held out his hand for Emma.

Emma merely stared at it. She could see the way the fear lingered in his eyes that he was eager to find answers for a way to rid himself of this bond, and she wanted to know why. Why was he so worried about it? Was he that desperate to be rid of her?

For the first time, Emma was feeling good about something, confident about letting love into her life. And it was because of this bond. She didn't want to let it go. She wanted this connection. It was the first thing that made her feel like she was worthy and good enough and at peace with herself and her always warring emotions and…

He was still waiting, but he lowered his hand, tilting his head to the side. Damn it. Was he reading her mind right now? Did he know everything she had been thinking?

'Yes, Swan. Come, let's talk about this somewhere else.' She heard, completely clear and loud in her thoughts. 'Please.'

Regina was standing by the open door, watching the silent conversation with a clear amount of interest.

Emma bit her lip, but the desperate emotions she was getting from Killian were breaking down her resolve.

"Fine," she grumbled, standing and walking past his outstretched hand. "We'll talk."

Just then, her phone rang shrilly in her pocket and a loud, thunderous noise came from outside. Emma raced to the door, Killian right behind, and followed where Regina was looking. While trying to answer her phone, she scanned the tree-lined street and sky for a sign of what was causing the explosion.

"Swan," she answered.

"Emma! Where are you? You need to get down town right away. And get Regina!" David's voice boomed against her ear.

"David, what's happening?" She asked, Regina and Killian listening in on the conversation, worry etched across their faces.

"Something…" another explosion and a clear, beastly roar… "not sure…" the phone was starting to go static-y and David's voice kept cutting out.

"Dad, I'm on my way!" She said, not waiting for a response. She turned to the two people at her side and gave them a head nod full of command. "Guess the party's over. Time to save the town again."

….

As they arrived to the center of town, all Emma could hear was the screams of the townspeople and the thud of some sort of giant something hitting buildings. Cautiously, the trio rounded a corner, peering at the chaos unfolding.

She spotted David and Mary Margaret shoeing people to safety, but couldn't yet see the source of the commotion.

Suddenly a great shadow fell over them, and the leathery flap of some sort of giant wings filled the air.

"Oh, lovely." Killian quipped. "I see our monster of the week has arrived."

Emma looked up to see the enormous black shape soaring overhead, scanning the street below for its next victim.

"What the hell is that?" She cried, looking to Regina for answers.

Regina snipped, "You think I have any idea? It's not like I kept a menagerie of evil creatures in my palace."

"Didn't you?" Emma muttered, and turned back, just as the creature alighted upon the clock tower roof, its claws digging in and bat-like wings curling up around its body. Two red eyes stared at the town in satisfaction, almost as if challenging someone to come and stop it.

"You and me, Regina, we can stop this thing, or at least slow it down. Killian, go find Belle and see if you can figure out what it is or where it came from just in case we can't." Emma commanded.

Killian shot her a quick 'Be careful, love' and ran off down the street, where Belle was huddled in a group of townspeople.

Regina met Emma's eye with a determined, protective glare. "This is my town, Miss Swan. No hell beast is going to take it from me."

Emma couldn't argue with that, and together both ladies stepped out into the street, arms raised and magic flowing.

Although she couldn't be sure, the second the beast caught sight of her, Emma felt a icy finger of dread slide down her spine. The creature looked at her with an almost sly smile, as if it had been waiting for her all along. Still, she couldn't let that distract her from using her magic against it.

Effortlessly the magic shot forth, blasting the monster squarely in the chest. Regina's too, hit it head on. Yet, as it cleared, the beast remained unaffected. Squaring herself up for another magical barrage, Emma took aim, and let the wave of protective light magic shoot forth.

This time, the beast roared and took to the air, soaring up, only to dive immediately back down. Before they could attack or seek cover, it swooped between Emma and Regina, using its wings to toss both ladies to opposite sides of the road in a bone-jarring collision.

Emma was the first to recover, shaking off the bruises and cuts, and regaining her fighting stance. Yards away, Regina stood up slower, taking a bit more time to ready herself.

The creature descend again, this time coming right at Emma, and she hit it with the full force of her magic. Evil intent glowed in its eyes and, as Regina also attacked, it rushed forward, using a blinding glare of purple light as a distraction, and folded Emma into its wings.

Regina panted as it took all of her concentration to blast the beast. She kept the magic steady, however, and soon, a bright purple glow surrounded it. It felt like she was winning.

Briefly, she wandered if Emma was able to blast it, too, as she had lost sight of her when the creature had attacked. Suddenly, the glow grew too intense, and Regina was forced to close her eyes.

After only a second, the light cut off, and as Regina refocused, her heart stopped. She had expected to see either the hulking black shape still standing in the road, or the evidence of its demise. What she didn't expect was to see absolutely nothing at all.

The creature was gone, almost as if it had never had been there at all. In confusion, Regina looked around, checking the sky to see if it was waiting for another chance to attack. But there was nothing.

Had she destroyed it? Honestly, it didn't feel like she did. Her and Emma's combined magic had barely phased it. So where was it?

And where was Emma?

She had been facing off against the monster just ahead of her, across the street. Now, she was nowhere to be seen. Had she been flung away again? Did she run off?

Regina turned to see David, Mary Margaret, Killian, and Belle all running towards her, confusion on every one of their faces as well.

"Did you kill it?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Where did it go?" Said David.

Then Killian was there, and she made the mistake of locking eyes with him. "Where's Emma?" He growled, an edge of trepidation causing him to look like his old pirate self.

The others quickly scanned the street as well, looking for the lost savior. Regina shook her head, wondering why she was feeling so upset over the woman's absence. It wasn't like they were friends. It wasn't like Regina cared about the Swan woman.

"I don't know. She was there," Regina pointed, "and the thing was standing between us. Then there was this bright light and it was just…gone. And… so was she," she finished apologetically.

Killian met her gaze with a stony blue glare. Then, suddenly, his eyes rolled back, and his face contorted in pain. David ran up, and placed a hand on his arm, as Killian fell to knees on the ground.

"Hook?" He asked, true concern in his voice. "Are you okay?"

After a moment, Killian's breath evened out and he swallowed hard. He looked up, around at all the people he knew cared for Emma, and without flinching, said, "I am, but Emma's not."

...

Next: Emma gets cursed, and begins to act a little odd. Killian returns to his former obsessions. Henry has a new Operation.