Chapter Four

Rather than create another scene as she made her way up to the third floor, Regina chose to take the elevator instead of using magic. As the doors parted, she could already see Emma nervously pacing at the end of the hallway. Whale had wisely chosen a room at the end of the corridor, off by itself which would afford some privacy as well as a secure view of both the elevator and stairwell in the event a certain lady pirate tried to do something foolish. Emma spied her as she exited the elevator and pointed toward the currently unoccupied nurses' station to her left. Regina nodded and joined her there for a private conversation.

"What was that all about?" Emma asked. "What did Whale want to talk to you about?"

"He was just asking about my experience with this particular poison. Nothing to be overly concerned about. What's going on in there?" Regina motioned toward the room with the closed door and drawn privacy curtain.

"I don't know. They won't let me in yet," Emma replied, the frustration quite evident in her tone. "I'm his wife. I should be with him."

"I'm sure it's just routine stuff. I think Whale knows better than to try and piss you off."

"The person pissing me off right now is Devereaux Sinclair. When I get my hands on her…"

"You don't honestly believe that she'll willingly hand over the antidote if you give her that looking glass, do you?"

"Right now, I don't know what to believe. Killian said he didn't trust her and that's certainly been proven. How long do you think it will take you to make the antidote?"

"It depends on how long it takes to locate all of the ingredients. It's not like I can just walk into a supermarket to get them. A few hours, maybe. A day at most."

Emma started to say something in response, but the sight of a nurse poking her head out of Killian's room caught her attention.

"Mrs. Jones?" the nurse called to her as she stepped into the hallway. The name almost didn't register with Emma as she was still getting used to her newest title. "Mrs. Jones, the doctor is ready for you to join us now."

"Our conversation isn't over," she told Regina as she hurried to her husband's side. Regina chose to linger by the nurses' station for a while, then wandered over to the glass partition that made up the room's front wall. She deliberately chose not to set foot in the room though, allowing this somewhat emotional moment to be strictly between Emma and Killian.

Stripped of his ever-present black leather and having already surrendered his hook, there was a vulnerability to Killian Jones that was equally tender and haunting. Now clad only in the standard hospital gown and robe, Emma could already sense his anxiety, as though his layer of armor was missing.

Until the antidote was in their hands, all that they knew lay ahead was uncertainty.

She found herself struggling to take in his appearance as he lay there before her. It wasn't the worst she'd ever seen him, not by a longshot, but it was affecting her deeply this time. A well-worn tan blanket was pulled up to his chest and his maimed left arm was tucked beneath the cover as though he were suddenly ashamed of it. His right arm lay atop the blanket at his side, his hand looking uncharacteristically bare as his rings had been removed and stored with the rest of his belongings. Now there was only an IV needle taped in place to the back of his hand and she could see a bundle of wires that extended from sensors adhered to his chest, extending out to the machines that would monitor his vital signs as he slept.

"Are you alright, Swan?" he asked softly, obviously struggling to get the words out.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," she replied, fully knowing that he was going to respond in his typical macho bravado manner, pretending that everything was fine. His breathing was already labored and he was clearly in pain, but while he didn't want to lie to her, he feared worrying her.

"We've been in worse spots," he said, "but I'd still rather not be here."

"I know," she agreed, grasping his hand and squeezing it as tight as she could without disturbing the IV tubing. Behind her, Whale was holding onto a syringe and as Killian's eyes were drawn to it, Emma felt his palm become damp with beads of sweat.

"If you both are ready," Whale spoke up. "This sedative will take affect rather quickly."

Killian could see his own reflection in his wife's teary green eyes as he nodded. Trying to say aloud that he was ready would have been a lie so a nod of his head was the best response he could muster.

"I will be right here when you wake up," Emma promised.

"I know you will," he replied, flinching a bit as Whale injected the contents of the syringe into a small port that spurred off of the tubing taped to his hand and causing the tiny needle to shift. It seemed to only take a few seconds before his eyelids began to feel heavy. "I love…"

He wasn't able to get the word "you" out before drifting off to sleep, his head lolling slightly to the side as his neck muscles relaxed. Emma squeezed his hand again then gently placed his arm back down at his side. She leaned forward to kiss his slightly parted lips, but once again was interrupted by Regina.

"Emma, you can't do that," Regina said with a hint of real empathy in her voice. "You can't kiss him."

Emma gazed up with a puzzled look on her face.

"Why not?"

"Because having magic will transfer the poison to you. It's the only effect magic has on this poison. I didn't get a chance to tell you that earlier. It may save him, but you'd put yourself in danger. The poison is too unpredictable to chance that."

Emma sighed loudly as she tenderly caressed his cheek, her thumb absentmindedly stroking the scruff along his jawline as she tried to remind herself what she had to do next. She straightened herself up and took a step away from the bed, pausing to glance back at him as one of the nurses positioned a clear plastic tube into his nostrils that would supply extra oxygen to him during his slumber while the other raised the safety railings on each side of the bed. Steeling her composure before exiting the room, she walked directly over to Regina.

"While I was waiting earlier, I called David," Emma stated. "He's on his way over to keep watch. Please fill him on all of the details when he gets here, then do what you can to get the antidote together."

"You called your father for guard duty? Where are you going?"

"I'm going pirate hunting," Emma stated, matter-of-factly. Killian might have given Devereaux a break earlier that afternoon, but all bets were off now. The pirate wench had pissed off the wrong woman this time.

It was a little after 8PM when David and Snow arrived at the hospital having received a rather cryptic call from their daughter. She hadn't gone into much detail, but from the inflection in her voice, clearly she'd been upset. She pleaded for David to head to the hospital and meet Regina on the third floor. Her exact words had been "Regina will fill you in, but I need you there to protect him." David had planned to come alone, but Snow had insisted on joining him, so after finding a last minute babysitter for little Neal, they'd rushed to the hospital to find out what was going on. As they stepped out of the elevator and saw the signs that identified this floor as the Intensive Care Unit, they shared the same worried glance.

They already knew that Emma wasn't hurt since David had talked to her less than an hour earlier, but her voice – manic, frazzled and uncertain – spoke volumes. There wasn't much that rattled Emma Swan so they knew someone she loved was in trouble and both David and Snow had the same sinking feeling in their gut – something had happened to Killian. They just couldn't piece together a reason why Emma wouldn't be at his side if their suspicions proved correct.

Looking around for Regina, they'd finally spotted her seated in a small lounge area to the right of the elevator that was sparsely furnished with a dark chocolate colored sofa and three matching armchairs that had clearly seen better days. A round table in the center of the room was strewn with a variety of magazines and a still-folded copy of that morning's newspaper.

"Regina – there you are," David said as they walked swiftly toward her, eager to learn what Emma had called so frantically about. "Emma said to meet you here, but she didn't really say why. What the hell is going on?"

"You may want to sit down," Regina replied, motioning toward the sofa, but neither took her up on that suggestion. "Suit yourselves," she said, then continued with the story. "It appears that a fellow pirate from Hook's past found her way to Storybrooke. He caught her trying to steal something from his ship this afternoon and in the process, she dropped an object that she's apparently willing to kill to get back. She thought that Emma had taken said object back to the sheriff station and broke in there too. To make a long story short, Killian surprised our pirate visitor when he arrived to meet Emma, but she got away after poisoning him with a face full of widowsbane pollen."

Snow shuddered at the mention of widowsbane. It was one of the most vile substances she could think of and knowing that her son in law had been inflicted with it horrified her.

"This is terrible," Snow sighed, "but I can't believe that Emma would just leave him here alone like this. It doesn't make sense…"

"She left to track down the pirate bitch who started all this because supposedly she'll trade the antidote for the object she dropped. Besides, Emma is the only person other than Killian who knows what this lady pirate looks like. She would only be watching him sleep anyway. Whale sedated him to help slow down the poison's progress."

"Hopefully going after this pirate doesn't prove to be a wild goose chase," David said, worried that the promise of a trade might be a ruse.

"I felt the same way. I know how to make the antidote, but it won't be easy." A long history if interactions with Regina told David one thing for sure – he wasn't going to like what she had to say next. "We have one major challenge to me making the antidote – the main component is the thimble flower which doesn't grow here in Storybrooke. There's no way to magically conjure one up either. I've got to find a substitute and making sure that Killian was unconscious was the only thing I could think of to buy us some time."

"Does Emma know this?" Snow wondered.

"No. I didn't want doubt getting into her head. I'm going straight to the library from here to do some botanical research and hopefully find a flower from the same family that will work. I called Belle and asked for her help, but I have no intention of revealing who needs the antidote."

"How is he doing right now?" David asked.

"He was exhibiting all of the early signs of widowsbane poisoning – shortness of breath, burning sensation, pain and fatigue. He's in the room at the end of the corridor, next to the nurses' station. My guess is that Emma wants you to stay here in case this lady pirate is dumb enough to come after him again."

"We wouldn't leave him here alone anyway," Snow said. "Asleep or not, someone should be here with him."

"Just make sure they keep a close watch on his temperature," Regina stated as she stood up and took a step toward the elevator. "If his fever starts to spike, it will accelerate the toxin. That could be disastrous."

"Understood," David said. "How long do you think you'll need?"

"I have no idea. But I'm serious, make sure they keep his temperature as close to normal as possible. We need all the time we can get."

With that statement, Regina stepped into the elevator and left the Charmings alone with their thoughts.

"We can only take things one disaster at a time," David said as they slowly, pensively strolled to the end of the hallway toward the room where their daughter's true love lay essentially comatose. They made it as far as the glass partition before David instinctively wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders, knowing that the sight of their son in law in pain was going to be upsetting to her. A nurse stood next to the bed, scribbling something on a chart while staring at a screen covered in numbers and wavy lines and as they both glanced over from where she stood, their first glimpse of the sleeping Killian proved to be a bit unsettling.

After everything that Emma and Killian had already been through, David hoped that Regina was right. He had to keep the hope alive that there was another flower she could use because as a father, he couldn't bear the thought of watching Emma's heart break again.

Out of an inky blackness, Killian was awakened by a sudden sense of movement. Slowly opening his eyes, he took a moment to adjust to the light, but this wasn't right. He realized he was no longer in that sterile hospital room. He was back home – in his own bed – but how? How did he get here? What had happened that he wasn't able to recall?

Then the bed shook as if an earthquake had struck. He nearly bolted upright, but instead, tensed and froze, not knowing what might be awaiting him.

And then came the voice.

"Daddy? Come on, Daddy. It's time to get up."

Daddy? Now he was really confused. Exactly how long had he been asleep?

Laying on his left side, he knew that the voice had come from behind him and as he slowly rolled onto his back, he found himself face to face with a little girl about five or six years old.

"Hi! You're awake," she grinned, her huge sea blue eyes sparkling, framed by golden curls that tumbled around a cherubic little face.

"Hello, child," he replied cautiously, not knowing if this was a dream or some sort of awful, drug induced hallucination. The lass was the spitting image of Emma, yet her eyes were the same sapphire blue as his own – not to mention that there was no mistaking her little pirate smirk. He had no doubt that this could be the image of their child, but was she real? Was any of this real? "And just who are you?" he asked her, trying to make the question sound like a tease, but he really needed to know.

"Really?" she asked, sarcasm strong in her tone. She bounced down onto her knees and nearly on top of his chest. "You know who I am and you promised to take me sailing today."

Perhaps this was going to be harder than he'd thought.

"Did I?" he asked as he sat up so that he was at her level. "I guess I don't recall that conversation."

"You don't seem to remember anything today," she said, moving in closer to him so that her tiny face was directly in front of his. She cocked her head to one side like a puppy and stared into his eyes. "You sick or something?" Clearly sass was strong with this one.

"Perhaps," he said, finally allowing a smile to form on his lips. Whatever he was experiencing right now – dream or otherwise – he didn't feel threatened. Confused and a bit bewildered, but at least not as apprehensive as he'd been initially. "Let's pretend I've forgotten everything and you have to make me remember."

He was reminded of the eerie familiarity of his own words as he said them.

"Why?" she was obviously skeptical of the idea.

"Just a game."

"Okay," she smiled as she sprang to her feet and resumed bouncing on the bed next to him. "I'm Maeve and you're my daddy, but you already knew that."

Maeve.

Our daughter is named after a legendary warrior queen, he thought. It couldn't have been more fitting.

"Well, Miss Maeve Jones, it is a pleasure to meet you," he laughed, pretending to bow to his pirate princess.

"I don't want to play this game anymore," she said, hopping off of the bed and darting around to the side where he was sitting. She grasped his hand and started tugging, urging him to get out from under the covers. "Come on! Let's go sailing!"

He started to laugh again, but then abruptly stopped at the sudden realization that she was pulling on his left hand. There was no leather sheath or hook. No stub of an arm that ended at the wrist.

It was his own left hand and with it, he could feel the softness of her tiny fingers against his palm.

What the hell sort of dream was this?

Even though as mayor, Regina possessed a set of keys to the library, her opinion was why waste time using a key to open a lock when - as she'd said before – magic's faster? A flick of her wrist unlocked and opened the door, then flipped on the lights. She immediately started scanning the shelves full of leather bound books and journals, looking for anything she could find that was even remotely botany related. It was a long shot, but there had to be some plant here in this land that was from the same genus as the thimble flower.

She knew she probably should have waited for Belle, but knowing this could take hours as it was, she decided to start digging alone, pulling five volumes from the shelves and placing them atop the library table.

"I do hope you have a good reason for dragging me out here this late in the evening," Belle said, laying the ring of actual library keys down on the table next to the stack of books. "I see you let yourself in."

"I'm in a bit of a hurry and I may need your help," Regina replied.

"Yes, the you needing my help part was more than a bit surprising."

"You know this place better than anyone else so I need your help to locate books on botany – more specifically books that would show plants and flowers from multiple realms."

"That's quite a specific genre request. Why the sudden botanical interest?"

Regina flipped open the cover on the first volume and began to thumb through the pages scanning for references to thimble flowers.

"Someone here in town – I'm not at liberty to say who – was poisoned earlier today, and before you ask, it wasn't my doing. I need to brew the antidote, but the most important ingredient can't be found here in Storybrooke – a small flower known as the thimble flower. I'm trying to find something similar that grows here in this land – something from the same family if possible." Regina chose her words carefully so as not to reveal who had been poisoned as she didn't need anything getting back to Gold right now.

"Okay, this might take a while. I can think of a few possible titles that cover multiple realms. Let me see what I can turn up."

"Thank you," Regina replied. "I'll start with these." She pointed to the stack of books to her left. "Unfortunately, we don't have a lot of time." Knowing that more than three hours had already passed, the clock was definitely ticking.

Yawning as she mindlessly thumbed through a weeks old magazine she'd found in the lounge, Snow glanced up at the clock on the wall.

12:28.

A few minutes ago, she'd sent David to get some rest after he'd taken the first shift on guard duty, but she doubted that he'd be any luckier than she'd been. She'd closed her eyes for a few minutes, but her worried mind wasn't about to let her rest. Emma still had not returned from her search for Killian's assailant and there had been no word from Regina either. She could only hope that in both cases, no news was good news.

With the nurses' permission, she had decided it was best to stay in the room with Killian. Whether he knew she was here or not really didn't matter. It was the right thing to do for family. She just found it a bit strange to be sitting next to her son in law watching him sleep. It was just too quiet. No snarky commentary. No sarcastic wit. No beaming smile or contagious laughter.

It just wasn't right and while she knew that his slumber wasn't due to a sleeping curse, it was still triggering those unfortunate memories and dragging up all of her doubt.

"Hang in there, Killian," she said out loud, really hoping he was able to hear her. "After what we've already been through, I know we're going to get you through this too."

But as she reached through the bedside safety rail to give him a reassuring pat on the arm, her motherly instincts kicked in, sending up an alert that things were very wrong. His skin was a lot warmer to her touch than it should have been. Immediately, her hand went to his forehead which she found was both hot and damp with sweat. This was not good, she thought as she also noticed that his hand was trembling slightly.

"We need some help in here!" she shouted, hoping to get the attention of the two nurses sitting at their desk a few feet away. Startled as Snow's cry for help interrupted their conversation, one of them sprang to her feet and hurried toward their patient's room. The other spun around in her chair, realizing that she'd turned her back on the monitors at the wrong time. Killian's temperature and heart rate had climbed to dangerous levels so she instantly picked up the phone and paged the doctor.

Snow backed out of the way as the first nurse pressed a thermometer to Killian's temple. After a few seconds, it beeped and even Snow could read the number that was displayed in red digital characters on the screen – 104.8. To say that it was dangerously high would have been an understatement.

"Doctor's on his way," the younger nurse stated to her colleague as she rushed into the room.

"Good," the other nurse replied. "Right now, we need to work on lowering his temperature. There should be ice packs and chilled towels in the storage room cooler. Bring me all you can find."

The young nurse nodded and scurried down the hallway, disappearing behind a set of double doors. The other retrieved a small vial of medicine that Dr. Whale had left on a tray in the event that Killian's fever started to rise. She jabbed the hollow needle of a syringe through the cap, then once the syringe was filled, she injected its entire contents into the portal tube connected to the IV line.

David, who'd been awakened by his wife's voice and the sudden flurry of activity, took Snow's hand and pulled her out into the hallway where they watched helplessly through the glass as the first seizure hit. Though still in the drug induced sleep state, Killian was shaking and clearly gasping for air. The younger nurse arrived with a cart full of supplies at the same time that Whale showed up and started barking out orders. The nurses began packing the cold towels and the soft sided frozen gel ice packets around Killian's neck and chest as the first seizure subsided. They were hoping to lower his core temperature quickly until the medication kicked in, but only seconds later, another wave of seizures began, far more intense than the first. The violent convulsions sent items flying and when the IV line became entangled with the side rail, it tore loose from his hand.

Cursing under his breath, Whale pulled another syringe from his lab coat pocket, removed the cap and plunged it directly into Killian's chest about two inches below his right collarbone. Snow winced and turned away from the window, unable to watch any longer. Whale, realizing he really didn't want or need an audience right now, had the nurse draw the privacy curtain closed around the bed. This was exactly the situation they didn't want to be in and he was upset that his team of nurses hadn't been paying close enough attention to their patient. The poison was accelerating and there was no way to know for certain if they could slow it down. They could only hold out hope that modern medicine could get the upper hand on an old world toxin.

But as they battled the attack on his body, Killian's unconscious mind was experiencing something entirely different. This time as he opened his eyes there was nothing.

No hospital. No house. No sound other than that of his own breath and pounding heart.

Just darkness that most importantly was devoid of the blonde child who'd called him daddy.

"Bloody hell," he sighed, fearing he was caught in some Purgatory again, but then out of the blackness there was a little giggle. "Maeve?"

A little speck of light appeared in front of him, no bigger than a fly, and began to flit about his head. When he raised his hand to swat it away, he heard another giggle. Another game?

"What kind of nightmare is this supposed to be?" he shouted into the void. "Are you toying with me?"

As swiftly as it had appeared, the speck of light vanished, leaving him alone to face this new and different manifestation of darkness. But he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

"Whatever you want from me, know that I'm not giving up! I have no intention of not fighting." He wanted the darkness that surrounded him to know that he wasn't afraid. Then there was another little laugh, louder this time. All he could do was call out to her. "Maeve?!"