Note: Pertaining to the question about Gold and Peter, the mystery will be revealed…well, this chapter. That's right, I want to incorporate as much as the original storyline without being redundant in this story but now is as good a time as any to get to Peter's history (at least a broad version of it). Hope you enjoy!

"If you go now I can't guarantee you'll be protected, Hook."

The pirate captain glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised and his face a perfect mask of indifference as he beheld his ally. Cora was powerful, his best chance to getting to the world without magic, to where the Crocodile waited to be skinned but he did not trust her. She had never really given him reason to and that was one thing he liked about Cora, she was upfront with him, as much as she could be. Hook had learned quickly that the woman could weave lies in a single heartbeat but then again why not? She had removed her own heart, emotions never got in her way. He recalled asking her why she went so far and she had merely smiled at him and refused to answer, he hadn't bothered asking again for he knew his alliance with her was temporary. Once they reached this new world, they had their own agendas. Cora would seek her daughter and Hook would seek his crocodile.

"Maybe the queen got cold feet," he sneered.

Cora's eyes narrowed imperceptibly and the smile that lifted her lips was anything but amused. He shrugged. Not much mattered to Hook except his revenge. "I'll be back well before it is time, there is something I must do, it'd be bad form to ignore it," he continued lightly.

"Do what you will, Hook, but I won't wait for you if you're late. You miss the chance for the protection I'm willing to give you then that is your own fault."

Not a strong bond indeed. Hook grinned and took off for his ship. He could navigate these waters faster than anyone and he had to go back, back to where she had been laid to rest. His dear Milah, the love of his life…murdered by a coward who could not bear to see her so vibrant in her new life. He may have hid behind the excuse of his boy but the captain knew better. He'd been jealous that he lacked appeal as a man, that he was nothing but scum, fit to crawl about and not much more. Hook's heart ached for Milah still, after all the eons had passed from her death she was still so close to his heart. He could have suffered the loss of his hand had Rumplestiltskin spared his dear heart, but no, he had gone beyond the call of what was necessary and he would pay for his crimes.

"Hey Peter!"

Peter looked up to see the mayor's son trotting over to him. He grinned. "Hey Henry," he replied, patting the empty seat next to him at the counter of Granny's. Henry slipped into the seat. Peter liked Henry; he was an interesting kid, far more perceptive than most in the town. Peter did not believe him about his stories, not fully in any case, but the idea that there was a curse suited him just fine. It might explain why he couldn't recall the full memories of the night Wendy died no matter how hard he concentrated. He refused to go see Archie, there was something he didn't like too much about the man and he would never admit he needed that sort of help, but it was strange that he couldn't remember and if Henry was right then at least he'd have some sort of explanation.

"Don't you have school?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I'm waiting for Emma."

"Ah, yes, now I can't call you the town's Lost Boy since she's showed up," Peter teased. "You look a bit…studious this morning; you have a test today or something?"

"No, it's not that. Have you seen the stranger who came to town recently?" Henry asked. "With the motorcycle? No? Well, he was outside my house this morning, I think he's up to something but I can't figure out what. He's the first stranger to come into town on his own and I think," here he paused to lean in closer, two conspirators in an empty diner. "I think it's because Emma is changing things."

Peter contained a laugh and shrugged. "You might just be right."

The walkie talkie at Henry's side crackled to life and Emma's voice came through, telling Henry she was going to be late because the mayor stopped her and that he better get on to school so he didn't get in trouble. Henry was on his feet quickly enough and Peter pressed some cash to the counter before he stood as well. "Have a good one, kid," he said.

"Bye, Peter!" Henry exclaimed, dashing out of the diner.

Peter slung his coat over his shoulders and stepped outside as well.

The Jolly Roger rocked gently on the waves as Hook stood at her starboard side, overlooking the ocean. Here was where he'd buried Milah at sea, the only place she really felt at home. When she had first walked into that bar all those years ago, Hook had seen a desperate woman, an easy mark, and yet when he invited her to join him and they began to really talk, he realized that she was so much more than that. He was as taken with her as she was with him. She had not seen much of the world, but her thirst for adventure was something he could relate to, and the way her eyes lit up and she hung to every word of his stories told him this was not a woman going along with whatever was said for some company later on. He asked her why she never left and she explained with bitterness her situation. Lashed to the village coward, remaining with him only for her son but even that was growing difficult. It was nothing against her boy, Balefire, for she truly loved him but she worried that her misery would eventually infect her son like a disease and she wanted to escape, to give him his best chance. Maybe if she left Rumplestiltskin would find the courage she so desperately sought in him.

Her harsh words against her husband might have deterred another man, but Hook did not see a woman who could never be satisfied, just a woman who had been dealt a great injustice when her husband ran from the war, staining the family name completely. By the time Rumplestiltskin came to collect her, Hook had already decided to take Milah as his own and seeing him in person only solidified this decision. He wrinkled his nose when Baelfire was revealed and scoffed at the spinner's poor tale. He may have told his son to wait outside, but he must have known he'd come in, must have known it was the only way he could get his wife to leave.

The following morning Hook barely had to wait long before she came to the ship. He grinned, offering her his hand and their fingers laced together for the first time. Hook pulled her close, ignoring the presence of his crew as his brought his lips close to hers, eyes half-lidded and yet intense upon her own.

"Are you sure you want to come with me, darling?" he whispered, his voice soft and sensual.

"Yes," Milah replied. "Take me with you; take me away from this life, from my misery."

In response he pressed his lips against hers and was filled with love for her. He'd had many women in his time, but none elicited such a response in him. Rumplestiltskin's presence did not surprise him, but his disgust for the man deepened when he would not pick up the sword and fight for his own wife. No, he did not deserve Milah.

"A man unwilling to fight for what he wants…deserves what he gets."

He never expected to see the coward again.

Peter felt his phone ringing and pulled it from his pocket, frowning at the caller. He flipped it open and held it to his ear. "What?" he asked.

"Tonight," was Gold's simple reply.

"Again?"

"The deal was my discretion, was it not? Tonight."

He disconnected the call and Peter was very tempted to throw the phone to the ground and stomp on it for good measure. He heaved a sigh and decided that he needed a walk to cool his head before he struck the nearest person. He ended up leaving the main town behind, towards the estates. Gold's house was near these parts but he went the opposite direction, deciding to avoid it. He came upon a grand mansion, fashioned to appear much like a hotel. He knew that it was the home of a man named Jefferson, but he hardly knew him. Saw him once…maybe twice in all these years and never exchanged a word with him. Rumor had it that the man was completely mad. He was just about to continue onward when a pair of scissors suddenly crashed through one of the windows and an angry "make it work!" was shouted from the room within. Peter lofted a brow as a face appeared in the window.

It was twisted in anger until bright eyes took in Peter's presence and it was unsettling how quickly the emotion was wiped from that face. Peter smirked. "I suppose you needed those," he said, indicating the scissors. "It's such a hassle to lose one's temper when it increases work. Now you've got to come all the way down here and retrieve them."

Jefferson's face hardly changed as he studied Peter for a bit. "Ah, yes, I thought I remembered you, you were in Wonderland once." He sighed. "You might as well bring the scissors up, captain, you'll be too curious not to now."

Peter blinked. Wonderland?As in the story? The title was not so odd, he was the captain of his small shipping boat, but the way Jefferson spoke to him, with a certain touch of familiarity as if they'd met before. Dammit, he was right, now he was curious. He shrugged. "A clever trick," he replied. "One I regret to say has me hooked."

Jefferson suddenly laughed a short burst before he disappeared from view and Peter was unsure what he'd said that struck the other as so funny. He grumbled to himself and snatched the scissors from the ground as if they'd personally insulted him and let himself into the manor. Jefferson had come down to the ground level to greet him, all humor dissipated from his visage as he led Peter into a sitting room. He held his hand out and Peter gave him the scissors which were placed carelessly on a coffee table before Jefferson sat. He was a well-dressed man, looking both as if he totally belonged in his house and yet his eyes made him appear trapped, as if he belonged far away.

"Wonderland, huh?" Peter prompted.

"Yes, Wonderland. You went there, but you don't remember. You went to assassinate the Queen of Hearts; the whole realm was abuzz with it, so much so that the news even reached me."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Oh yes, I'm sure I did," he cooed.

"You did. But you didn't succeed you know, it's a trivial attempt, trying to kill her but you did lead her out of Wonderland. I suppose I should thank you for that…off with his head," this last statement was issued as no more than a harsh whisper and Jefferson's eyes were lit with fury.

"You are mad, aren't you?"

"Mad? Oh, we're all mad here. I am mad from remembering, you are mad from not remembering."

Peter thought that a curious thing to say, hadn't he just been thinking about how he couldn't remember his own wife's passing? Jefferson was looking at him and nodding slowly. "Not remembering, not your true self, not the things that matter. You should count yourself lucky that you don't. It's awful, knowing I mean."

"Remembering my true self, huh. And who was I when I went to kill the queen?" Peter asked, thoroughly amused by all of this.

"Captain Hook of course," Jefferson replied confidently. He pointed to the fake hand attached to Peter's wrist. "No hook here though."

Peter shook his head. "This was from a boating accident, the very same that took Wendy."

Jefferson smirked in triumph. "Ah, yes and weren't you so sure that Mr. Gold had something to do with that? But you had no proof. Dr. Whale said it was amnesia from the accident but the boat was Gold's, you said he rigged it but it's all hazy isn't it? Like you're grasping for straws? Simple, you are. Wendy did not die in a boating accident."

Peter's amusement was quickly fading and he stood. "No? And what do you know of it?" he snapped.

"Nothing, I'm afraid. We never met face-to-face in Wonderland after all. All I know is that your Wendy was never in Storybrooke to begin with, because she died in our world. It's why you couldn't get any evidence that Gold set you up, you know, it's a false memory altogether. Would you care for tea?"

"No, I would not. I recommend you cease rambling about my wife, Jefferson, or I'll have your head."

"Off with his head."

Peter rolled his eyes. He should not let this upset him, Jefferson was a madman, he had heard the accusations Peter made against Gold and had weaved them into his warped reality. Captain Hook, hardly! If Peter had a hook at his disposal and a whole crew he would have turned his life around here already.

The curse hit before Hook could make it back to Cora, but he found he didn't mind as he watched those black clouds coming closer and closer. He had to come here, if he hadn't he might have never had a chance to say good bye to Milah before he was swept up completely by revenge. "I'll remember," he growled. "I'll remember what I must do, my love." Kill the crocodile, kill Rumplestiltskin.

Peter reached Mr. Gold's house at the usual time. His blood was running cold. He hated this, hated all of it. When the boat had gone down, Peter accused Gold of sabotaging the vessel and it had led to Wendy's death and the loss of his hand. When he got out of the hospital a few weeks later, he went so far as to get the mayor and the DA involved, but when no proof was found, he had nothing. He had gone to the Pawn Shop and smashed the glass cases, tipped over the books and made as much of a mess as he could before Sheriff Graham took him in. He spent the night in jail before he was released by none other than Gold himself. The man would have payment for the damage done to his shop, but Peter had no extra money to give him. So he'd made a proposal, because he knew Mr. Gold was hiding something, showing hatred towards him unlike any other in town, of course the boat he loaned would be tampered with, he should have seen it coming, so he offered the service of his own body in payment with the promise that Mr. Gold would tell him the truth. He thought Mr. Gold would be repulsed, would deny the deal and simply tell him so he would never have to deal with Peter again, instead he'd accepted and the fact that he had accepted told Peter one thing; there was more to the accident.

He didn't know what Gold was getting out of the deal. Sure every man had their needs and it was true everyone else in town would be too frightened to get anywhere near him outside of town business, but Peter couldn't help but feel that this was just another way Mr. Gold was trying to bring him down, break him to little pieces and he was loathed to admit it…but it was working. Every time he left Gold's house he felt a little more hollow inside, a little more disgusted with himself and a little more like he was betraying Wendy entirely.

It was a simple affair. Peter stepped into the bedroom as always. Clothes were removed and they went to the bed. Peter was never allowed to touch, not that he wanted to, and he was never allowed to take the other man. He did as was requested and it had been done so often now it was almost routine. The room would be quiet save for the sound of skin sliding again skin and an occasional moan from either one of them but there was never passion, never tenderness and for that Peter was almost grateful. It let him hold on to the deal, that when Gold was satisfied he'd humiliated Peter enough to pay back for the damages to his shop he would end this part of the bargain and tell him about Wendy. For that answer, Peter could subject himself to this utter disappointment, this weakness of character because there was no other way.

Tonight, as Gold loomed over him once again, as his familiar girth filled him and their breathing became harsh Peter found he was distracted and not by the usual image of Wendy, but of Emma. Her smile, her wry expression when he teased her, her quick retorts…she was changing things. Would she be able to change his fate? This could not be all there was to the world. Passionless carnality, a fading dream of a woman unjustly taken before her time, the feeling of being cursed. This could not be all there was.