Chapter Five

After nearly twenty agonizing minutes, Whale finally emerged from Killian's room. Neither Snow nor David could get a read on his expression as he approached them. Behind him, they could see one of the nurses reopening the curtain but from the angle where they were standing, they weren't able to see inside.

"Well?" David asked impatiently.

"We were able to get him stabilized," Whale replied. "I've given him an anti-convulsive medication that will help control the seizures and we were able to get his fever down to under 102 degrees. It's still higher than I'd like to see, but at least it's in a safer range."

"Oh thank goodness," Snow breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's not get too excited," Whale continued. "We still don't know how much time this bought us. If someone doesn't come up with the antidote pretty soon, we may be just prolonging the inevitable."

"You don't know Killian the way we do. He's going to fight this with everything he's got," Snow stated, if for nothing else than to make herself feel better.

"I surely hope that you're right," Whale said, "because he's still got one heck of a fight ahead of him. I did increase the sedatives so he's back into a deep sleep again, but he was having such a difficult time breathing that I had to make the decision to put him on a ventilator. If you're not familiar with that machine, it basically is one that breathes for him by way of a tube placed down into his windpipe. I wanted to warn you because it might be a little disconcerting, but there really wasn't another option."

"Thank you," Snow told him, now really unsure of what to expect. "Are we able to go back in to see him now?"

Whale nodded. "I'll check on him periodically throughout the night. Let me know as soon as you see or hear from Emma though. I'm going to need to speak to her."

"We will," David assured him as Whale left them, heading off down another corridor. He had a very good idea of what Whale needed to discuss with Emma, but he tried not to think about it as he again wrapped his arm around Snow, pulling her in tight to him. "It's going to be alright," he said. "I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I trust Regina. She's going to find the right flower to make the antidote."

"For Emma and Killian's sake, I sure hope so," Snow said as they stepped back up to the glass wall and peered into the room before stepping inside. Even with Whale's warning, Snow gasped a little at the sight before them. The doctor had not been exaggerating when he'd said that the sight of Killian being aided by the ventilator would be troubling, but it wasn't just that. The whole scene disturbed her. Neither of them said a word as they stepped through the doorway, not because they feared waking him but rather out of pure shock.

Finding the reality of the plastic tube extending from the corner of his mouth and connecting to multiple other intimidating looking tubing and hoses a bit much to take in, Snow found herself unable to even look at Killian's face, instead noting the minor details. A small square gauze bandage had been taped to his chest, covering the puncture wound Whale's syringe had inflicted when injecting the anti-convulsive drug. The back of his hand was also bandaged as it had bled when the IV needle was torn loose. A new IV was taped securely in place to the inside of his wrist, directly over the old tattoo of Milah's name.

"It's after one AM," David began, sensing her tension. "I'm wide awake now. I'll stay until Emma gets back. Why don't you head home and get some sleep?"

"I feel like I should stay though. What if Emma needs me?"

"Then I will call you," he assured her. "Go home. Try to sleep. I promise to let you know if anything changes."

"Alright," she sighed, giving him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Please let me know when you talk to Emma. I don't care what time it is."

"I promise," he replied, not sure exactly how long that might be. He'd hoped that she would have at least sent a text message by now. Clearly she was fixated on finding this rouge pirate, but with each minute that went by, he became more concerned.

This time, Killian knew where he was before he was even able to open his eyes. The welcoming scent of the marine air embraced him like an old friend; the sound of waves striking the dock and sails flapping in the breeze were like music to this pirate's ears.

"All hands on deck, Pirate!"

There was that sweet little voice again, he thought as he opened his eyes to find himself standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger.

"Is that any way to talk to the Captain of this vessel?" he smiled, seeing only the very top of a blonde head and two tiny hands above the helm. Laughing as he ascended the steps to the navigation deck, he saw Maeve poised on her tiptoes trying to maneuver the huge wheel. Thankfully, they were still moored in the harbor or who knows where they'd be now.

"You told me that a proper pirate princess should know how to captain her own ship," she stated firmly.

"And so she shall," he replied, sliding a storage trunk across the deck for her to stand on. He hoisted her up atop the trunk and guided her hands to the proper position on the helm. "Tell me where we're navigating to today, Captain?"

"The Enchanted Forest."

"Then off we shall go. Twenty degrees to starboard!"

Without any guidance from him, she turned the huge wheel clockwise. Child after his own heart. Part of him actually wanted to cast off the moorings, but not knowing exactly how things worked in this dream world, he felt it best to stay put in the harbor.

"Calm seas ahead," she giggled, turning to give him a huge hug that felt so real that for a moment, he nearly forgot that he was only dreaming.

Now after four AM, Emma had been all over town in search of Devereaux Sinclair, leaving her physically and emotionally exhausted. She'd give the pirate credit – she knew how to hide, but if she really wanted to trade the mirror for the antidote, being evasive didn't make much sense. It was almost as though this were just a part of some sick game that Emma really didn't want to play. Whatever history Devereaux and Killian had, it was pretty evident that they hadn't ended things on good terms – at least not from Devereaux's perspective. Killian didn't appear to be bothered by whatever was implied, possibly having forgiven her enough to let her go earlier. Devereaux was another story. Maybe she was just a sociopathic crazed lunatic. No matter what, Emma was determined to get answers out of her and hopefully, the antidote too, -assuming Devereaux even really had it and this wasn't just another ploy in her game.

But nagging in the back of Emma's head was a lingering bit of guilt. If she hadn't been engaged in such a long meeting with Regina discussing that stupid compact, she would have already been back at her office before Devereaux broke in. It would have been a very different confrontation had she been there. The pain in the ass pirate would already be behind bars and Killian wouldn't be fighting for his life in a hospital bed.

Of course, she knew that second guessing herself wasn't going to help them right now. Hindsight was always perfectly clear when the present and future were muddy. She had to focus so, as she sat in her car parked on the street in front of the Sheriff's station, she reminded herself of the task at hand. It was at that moment that she felt the weight of Killian's hook, still tucked securely inside her jacket as she'd wanted to keep part of him close to her heart. She lifted it from her pocket and held it lovingly in her palm for a few seconds, long enough for a tear to escape the corner of her eye and drift down her cheek. Only a few hours ago, they'd been happily strolling arm in arm along the waterfront and then Devereaux Sinclair and her damned mirror crossed their path…

The mirror.

Why hadn't she thought of this before now? With a flash of realization, Emma placed the hook on the seat next to her as she dug into a different pocket to locate the compact. It had shown her a vision earlier, and if Regina was to be believed and this compact really could function as a crystal ball, perhaps she could get it to give her some clue as to where Sinclair was hiding.

"Wonder how you get this crazy thing to work?" she asked herself as she pressed the button to open the compact. Seeing her own reflection – bloodshot eyes and weary, gaunt face - all she was seeing was her own face. "Come on," she pleaded with it. "You showed me something before. Do it again."

She nearly regretted asking for the object's help as the first fuzzy image came to life in the bottom mirror because what it showed her was a view of Killian laying deathly still in the hospital bed with her mother seated by his side. It reacts to emotion, she thought. She'd been sad when she picked it up and worrying about Killian, so it gave her an image of him. She needed to change emotion and think about what Devereaux made her feel.

Anger.

Anger and frustration.

Channeling those emotions, the image in the bottom mirror began to change. The shadow of a female form came into view, at first only a dark profile. Emma needed more though. She needed something to identify where Devereaux might be and as the scene played out on the tiny mirror before her, a familiar setting was displayed in the background.

Her office.

Devereaux had apparently been interrupted early in her search when Killian found her and she had returned to continue her search for the mirror, apparently (and incorrectly) assuming that Emma would be entirely preoccupied with him. But how recent was this image? This may have been from earlier in the evening and there was a good possibility that she was long gone – a possibility that vanished as Emma spied a flash of light that flickered between the blinds on the station's front window.

A flashlight – and in the misty image displayed on the mirror, Devereaux was holding a flashlight.

She was still inside.

Emma snapped the compact closed as she pushed open the door of her little VW bug and stepped out into the street. Time to show this little pirate wench that you don't mess with the sheriff or her family in this town. She stormed up to the front door and – taking a page from Regina's playbook – blasted it open with magic. No use being subtle, Emma thought to herself as the door flew off the hinges. She didn't care if it had to be repaired later.

She wanted to make an ENTRANCE.

"I know you're here, pirate," Emma shouted, "and you can quit searching. You won't find your mirror in my office or anywhere else in this station because its right here in my hand!"

"That was quite a display," Devereaux replied as her head lifted above Emma's desk and into view through the glass partition. "I may have underestimated you, Sheriff. You have me at a bit of a disadvantage as I'm not a practitioner of magic."

"Step out of my office and give me the antidote."

"Hand over my mirror and we'll negotiate."

"This isn't up for negotiation," Emma stated as she waved her hand to close and lock the side door to her office, leaving Devereaux with only one path out. "Where's the widowsbane antidote?"

"Yeah…that…," Devereaux laughed, stepping through the door frame with an almost sadistic smile on her lips. "I kinda left it back on my ship."

"Then let's take a little trip out to your ship so you can get it."

"You think it's that easy?" Devereaux grinned. "Unless you happen to know of a portal back to the Enchanted Forest, it won't be an easy jaunt."

"I thought you told Killian that you arrived here by your ship being blown off course in a storm?"

"Not exactly. I got here through a portal after stealing a few magic beans from a sorcerer so that I could find a way back to the Jolly Roger."

"Why were you searching for the Jolly Roger?" Emma wondered.

"Because it's the last place I saw an object I've been hunting for a very long time. I'm sure by now you've opened the compact and since you obviously have magic, you know what it is."

"A looking glass."

"Exactly! A looking glass that came straight from the shores of Wonderland, but it was missing its handle. The last place I saw what I believed was the handle before the Queen's curse struck was aboard the Jolly Roger. Hook blocked me from taking it years ago and I've been searching the realms for it ever since. Little did I know that it had been brought to this strange new land."

"It's what you were after in the safe this afternoon, wasn't it?"

"Aye, and it's what I went back to search for again after our encounter here in your office. Damned if I could figure out how to open that safe though. I'll give him credit for that one…"

"Encounter? That's what you're calling it? You poisoned him!" Emma patience had waned and her face flushed crimson with anger.

"It really wasn't personal. I needed a diversion and it was a perfect one to keep him off of the ship, and of course I thought it would keep you busy, pining at his side. As I said, I may have underestimated you."

"You honestly thought that poisoning him with a deadly toxin was just a tactical diversion?!" Emma had had just about enough of Devereaux's cold, smug attitude.

"Just business," Devereaux responded nonchalantly. "Yours is upholding the law, mine is breaking it." She held up a tiny glass vial that appeared to contain the same purple dust that had been all over both Killian's skin and clothing as well as Emma's office earlier. "Now, I'd like my mirror back, if you please or I'll throw this. Think your magic is fast enough to stop a cloud of toxic dust from spreading?"

"Yeah, I do," Emma replied and with a quick wave of her hand, the vial vanished from Devereaux's palm and rematerialized in Emma's possession. "And now I'm done dealing with you."

Emma tapped into her rage and frustration, flinging Devereaux into the wall then quickly got a magical grip around the pirate's throat, dragging her out of the office without ever actually laying a finger on her.

"What are you going to do – kill me?" Devereaux asked when Emma loosened her grip around her neck. "Go ahead. I know your type. You can't do it…"

"I have no intention of killing you. You're not getting off that easy." Emma waved her hand again to cause the iron barred door of the holding cell to swing open, then with one more flourish, tossed Devereaux across the room and into the cell. The pirate slammed hard into the concrete block wall, then slid slowly down to the bare concrete floor as the door slammed shut before her.

"You can tell Captain Hook I said goodbye," Devereaux spat. "Because unless he knows where the handle is, he'll never get the antidote."

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"With the handle attached, supposedly the looking glass gains the ability to open portals. It might be the only way to get to the antidote on my ship because you won't get it any other way."

"Guess it's a good thing that Regina is already working on a batch of the antidote then."

"Regina? The Evil Queen? If she told you that she can make the antidote here then she lied to you. There isn't a way to make the antidote here because the flower needed to brew it doesn't grow in this land." As Devereaux began to laugh over the realization that Emma had actually believed the Evil Queen's words, Emma threw her one more time, slamming her into the cell's tiny, bare cot.

"I'll be back to deal with you later, Sinclair. And just so you don't get any ideas about trying to break out…," Emma sealed the cell lock with her magic so the pirate wouldn't have any dreams of picking it. She then backed away, leaving the station with its door still laying on the floor. No one else would be crazy enough to break into a Sheriff's station anyway.

Right now, she needed to calm herself. She was angry that Regina had lied about the antidote and now that she'd learned that Devereaux didn't have it either, she was scared. Climbing back into her car, her eyes were immediately drawn to the shiny steel of Killian's hook as it reflected the street light above her. She had every right to be upset and Regina had a lot of explaining to do but right now, all she could think of was that she needed to be at his side – no matter what the outcome may be.

Hours into their research, the mountains of books had now spilled off of the library table into the floor and as dawn approached, Regina was growing increasingly frustrated. There had to be something. She refused to believe that with all of the flowers and plants in this land, there wouldn't be one that was related to a thimble flower. So far though, while she had found numerous references to thimble flowers, nothing mentioned anything outside of the Enchanted Forest.

"All of this is really beginning to make me hate flowers," Regina stated, slamming the cover of the book in front of her closed.

"Regina, please – many of these books are delicate. Could you please show them a little respect?" Belle's concern was genuine, but right now, Regina was really to tired to care.

"Are we looking in the right place?" Regina wondered.

"We are. There just aren't a lot of books that cover multiple realms, but I found this old journal that might be useful." Belle strolled over to the library table and showed Regina an ancient, sheepskin bound personal journal with a battered cover and pages that were brittle and yellowed. "It's the personal notes of an alchemist who used portals to travel through many different realms collecting flowers, plants and other items for his experiments and potions."

Regina's interest was piqued.

"Any mention of thimble flowers?"

"Not yet, but I'm only a few pages in. Its actually quite fascinating."

"Fascinating is wonderful. Relevant would be better." Sarcasm was flowing freely now as Regina was growing more weary and fatigued. "Let me know if you find anything useful."

Regina grabbed the next book from the stack and turned her attention toward it. Time was running short and so was her patience. She was ready to turn a toad into a thimble flower, but she knew it wouldn't work. Hell, she was ready to turn Devereaux Sinclair into a toad – and maybe she would after Emma got done with her. Maybe something lower than a toad? A cockroach perhaps so she could savor the satisfying squish under her heel?

But first she had to find something to make the antidote or things were going to get really challenging in this town. The last place she wanted to find herself was standing directly in front of a pissed off Emma Swan.