A/N: The Devil in the Tarot symbolizes those things that are keeping us bound, keeping us from becoming what we're truly meant to be. In this story, it's just the last little push that will force Emma to deal with … oh, just EVERYTHING. This chapter took a lot of time to get to the place I needed it to get to for the rest of the story, so I do hope you enjoy it. Thanks again for reading, following, reviewing ... we're in the homestretch now but there's soooo much more to come.

Chapter Fifteen
The Devil
"You caused my heart to bleed and you still owe me a reason, 'cause I can't figure out why … "

"Tell me," Emma said as they crested the top of another hill. She could see the bridge in the distance now, not too far. The bridge to Neverland. As amazing as this little island had been, she found she was a bit nervous to see the rest of the realm. Killian kept warning her of the dangers hidden amongst all the beauty. But so far, all she'd seen was a veritable paradise.

"Tell you what?" he asked with a grin, taking her hand in his and helping her up to the top of the small hill.

She cocked her head at him, giving him a look. "Tell me," she said. "You know. How it is you're both."

"Ah, you want to hear the story, then?" he said, nodding. "It's not exactly the stuff dreams are made of, love."

Her mouth was a thin line. "Neither is my life, and somehow I survive," she responded.

"That hurts me, you know," he said, placing his hook over his heart dramatically.

"You actually expect a compliment right now, don't you?" she said dryly.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt," he said, winking at her. "It never goes amiss to hear you're the best someone's ever had."

"But I was told never to lie," she quipped, widening her eyes and gasping exaggeratedly at him. She gave a little shriek when she found herself pulled into his arms, wriggling half-heartedly. She didn't really want him to let her go, but she had to put on the show.

"You are monstrously cruel," he told her, smirking a bit before dipping his head, pressing his lips to hers. She succumbed to his kiss for a moment, sighing against his mouth and allowing him to deepen it, before finally pulling back.

"Nope, you're not getting out of it," she told him, placing her hand over his mouth and pushing him back a bit when he tried to lean in again. His lips really ought to be classified as deadly weapons. "Tell me!" He pouted, and she shook her head. "It's just ridiculous when you do that," she told him. She pecked his lips gently. "Come on, I really want to know, Killian."

He sighed, nodding his head in the direction of the bridge. "All right, lass. Let's keep walking and I'll fill you in. Once we make it to the mainland, we'll need to find a ship."

"A ship?" she asked.

"Aye, you may have heard of it," he said teasingly. "Big seafaring vessel."

She smacked his arm. "Don't be a smartass," she muttered, laughing a little. "I just … why?"

"Unless you want to traverse the entirety of the map — and trust me, you do not — a ship is the fastest, most direct way to get to the Hollow."

"And you can sail it, yourself?" she asked, frowning.

"I'm not like to be looking for a galleon, love," he said with an amused light in his eye. "A small skiff will suit our needs just fine. And you can help."

Her frown deepened. "Do I look like a sailor to you?" she asked him.

He gave her his brightest grin then. "No, you don't. But I wasn't lying when I told you you'd make a hell of a pirate. And don't you think it's high time you learned a little something new? Come, you know you're just dying to steer my ship."

She made a face at him. "Do you have to make everything sound obscene?"

"It's a gift," he said, still grinning infuriatingly. At her expression then, he burst out laughing. "Oh, come now, Emma, where's your sense of adventure?"

"I think I left it back on that shore where I almost drown," she grumbled.

He let his fingers lace with hers as they walked, a move that was becoming familiar and comforting to Emma. She had no idea how long they'd been in Neverland … time seemed to be stuck in a permanent state of evenfall. It could have been days that they'd been here. Or weeks. She didn't like to think about that … she didn't like to think of how long she'd been away from her family.

She was just so glad — and she couldn't believe she was admitting it, even to herself — to have Killian with her. "Are you going to keep talking about ships or are you going to tell me your story?" she asked him then.

"You've no patience," he told her, but the amusement never left his face. "All right, all right, I can see you're not about to let this one go." He sighed heavily. "I suppose in your world, you have tales of your own, about me, my story?"

Emma nodded. "We do. But I'm more interested in the truth, Killian," she said. "Especially since the tales we have do not ever mention Peter Pan becoming Captain Hook," she pointed out.

"Point taken," he said. They continued walking, the stone bridge coming into view just up ahead then. "I don't remember coming here the first time," he said. "I remember being very small when my parents died … I was younger than your lad, must've been six, maybe seven. I don't even … I don't even remember how they died. It was so long ago." He shook his head. "No matter. The fact remains that they died, and I was sent to live with some distant uncle or other, until he got sick of taking care of me, and sent me elsewhere."

Emma nodded, listening intently. It was a familiar tale. Not that she could relate, exactly, to the death of her parents, but she knew what it was to be alone in the world, to be scared, to be cast off to whoever might take you. Unconsciously, her hand tightened in Killian's.

"Peter Pan was an orphan," she said softly, remembering the stories she had so loved growing up. It was so strange to think that the boy she'd felt such a kinship with back in her lonely childhood was now the man she was standing here with now. If she believed in such things, she would call it fate.

"Aye," he said, just as softly. He gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow then, causing her to look up, breaking her reverie as she looked at him. He gave her a quick grin, which she returned wanly. "You did ask to hear it, love," he reminded her.

"I know I did," she repeated. "I just … "

"Didn't think it'd hit so close to home?" he finished. "At the risk of upsetting you, darling, you do know that we have far more in common than you'd care to admit."

"I suppose that we do," she conceded, giving him a brighter smile now. "Go on, please."

"Well, after about the … fourth?" he said, thinking for a moment, then nodding, "yes. After the fourth distant relative decided I was a bit too much of a handful," he cast a sidelong look at Emma after that, but she kept her face impassive, "I ended up at an orphanage."

Emma frowned then. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. They had reached the bridge by now, and Emma leaned against the side, her face upturned to watch his as he talked.

He shrugged. "That's the way of it, love," he said. "I know you're no stranger to such a system."

She looked down. "It doesn't mean I'd wish it on anyone else," she said softly. "So what happened then?"

His eyebrows knitted then, and Emma could tell that he was trying to recall a memory long since gone. She had to remind herself sometimes that he was very very old, he'd lived a long time and seen many a thing that she couldn't even begin to imagine.

"I can't rightly tell you," he finally said. "All I know is that I went to sleep one night, and when I woke up, I was … well … " He gestured. "I remember that one of the caretakers at the orphanage, she seemed a bit … off. There were whispers that she was mad, but we children all loved her. She was always talking about a place with fairies and where children never grew up. My best guess is that my coming here, the first time, had something to do with her."

He shrugged, and Emma noticed the sadness in his eyes then. She could imagine him as a small boy, having lost everyone and everything he'd ever loved … in a way, whoever this mystery benefactress of his was, she reminded Emma of Mary-Margaret. She had given a Henry a book of stories when he had been at his lowest, and look where it had gotten them all. "But it was so long ago, and I'm not like to ever figure it out for certain. All I know is that I ended up here. And I stayed. Why wouldn't I?"

They had resumed walking, and Emma noted that the bridge was steadily inclining upwards. "What the hell kind of bridge is this?" she asked Killian, looking at him.
He gave her a smile. "Oh, love," he said, shaking his head. "You haven't the first clue what you're in for, have you?"

"We're going … up," she said, brow furrowed.

"You're quite the observant lass, aren't you?" he teased. "Aye, we're going up. That's where Neverland is."

"How far up?" Emma wanted to know, eyebrow cocked.

He leaned in then, his lips against her ear. "All the way, love," he breathed, and she shivered a bit.

"But it's … an island, you said? Or a string of islands? Or … I mean, we're taking a boat? And it's … in the sky?"

He laughed, shaking his head a bit as he pulled her into his arms again. "Leave it to someone with no imagination to think that the worlds out there end at the sky," he said. "You've always just thought it was clouds and air above you?"

They continued climbing, and Emma was reminded briefly of climbing that beanstalk with him. Though this was a lot less taxing, she had to say. It was just a nice walk … that happened to be winding up into the clouds.

"This has got to be a dream," she murmured.

He gave her a look. "Thoughts like that will get you in a world of trouble here," he said warningly. "You've got to leave your doubts and indecisions behind, or Neverland will deny you entrance."

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Oh, seriously," he told her, his eyes wide and earnest. "Neverland is beautiful — you've never seen it's like, I assure you. But it's fraught with peril too. And if you're not careful, vigilant, you can wind up lost forever."

"Are you just saying that so I'll feel all indebted to you later on? Are you expecting some sort of reward?" she said lightly, earning herself a smirk from her too-handsome pirate.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of some way to repay me, love," he said huskily.

She made a face at him and chose to keep walking. "Anyway," she said pointedly, and he chuckled a bit. "So you stayed. But obviously … I mean, you did leave, because you're not still a sixteen-year-old boy … though your mind might suggest otherwise," she said.

"Ouch," he said, grinning.

"So what happened?"

"Nothing of major importance," he said, and Emma could tell that he was being sincere. "I just started thinking about the things I'd left behind, and wondering … and before I knew it, I was seeking the aid of the pixies. I didn't know that it'd be damn near impossible to get back to Neverland, or I might never have left."

It all started to click together then. "So you became a pirate … "

"To find a way back here," he said, as though it were the simplest of all things to figure out. "The only time I was ever truly happy was when I was here," he said, his tone wistful then. "Until I met Milah."

Emma nodded, feeling a little pang in her gut when he mentioned Milah. Obviously she couldn't compare herself to his lost love … Milah was something Emma didn't think she could ever be … someone he'd be willing to forsake all other things for.

It made her heart ache a little, knowing that she was absolutely falling for him … and knowing he would never ever be able to feel the same way back.

"So … Killian Jones?" she asked, looking at him quizzically.

He smiled fondly. "One of the only things I remember about my mother was that she used to read me a story, it was my favorite story. He was … a prince or some such thing, and he had a great many adventures that seemed like just the thing to my young mind." He shrugged. "When I left Neverland, the first time, I didn't want to be Peter any more. But the only thing I could clearly remember was that story."
Emma couldn't help it, she smiled, a small laugh bubbling up from her throat.

"You're kind of hopelessly whimsical, aren't you?" she asked him, affection heavy in her voice. "Though I suppose that's to be expected, given the truth of who you are." She shook her head. "It's still sort of … unclear, though. How the stories got it so wrong."

Killian shrugged. "They seemed to get everyone else a little wrong too, did they not?"

"Fair enough," she conceded, then eyed him out of the corner of her eye. "So … what about Wendy?"

He arched a brow at her. "Who?"

She blew out a breath. "In all the stories, there's a girl called Wendy who … Peter brings to Neverland," she said.

He laughed. "Oh, like the moving pictures your lad showed me," he said, then shook his head. "I've never brought anyone here, love," he said. "As far as I know, this Wendy is just a myth." His eyes softened a bit as he looked at her then, and Emma really couldn't read the expression on his face.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but you're sort of supposed to be just a myth too," she said dryly. "On two counts, come to think of it."

"Perhaps whoever wrote the story was merely thinking ahead," Killian said, coming to stop before an archway. Whatever lie on the other side of it remained to be seen though, for there was a swirl pinkish-purple fog obstructing the view. Emma could see some of the stars clinging to the veil here, and part of her knew that stepping through it was going to change her life irrevocably.
Neverland.

It was real. It existed. And the boy she'd grown up reading about, feeling such deep camraderie with all those lonely years, the boy she'd grown up dreaming about, he was real too. And he was reaching for her hand then, pulling her close and kissing her softly. "I've never brought anyone here, until now. Perhaps she's meant to be you."

Emma could feel her heartbeat quicken, and once again she wondered how it was he was able to affect her like this, like no one ever had. She heard that little voice in her head again, the one that kept insisting that she start believing in fate, because he might just be hers. "Are you sure you want to take me there with you?" she asked him quietly. "It seems like a place that's … very special to you and I … "

"Emma, shhh," he said softly, his lips on hers again. This time when he kissed her, she had flashes, flashes of a life that wasn't hers, flashes of a gorgeous paradise, of days spent in the sun, of laughter, of tiny sparkling pinpoints of light that darted through the trees and spoke a language all their own …

She pulled back, gasping a little, and her eyes widened when she saw that he had pulled her past the threshold as he'd kissed her.

"Oh … Oh my … "

She really couldn't find the words. She had thought the Sea of Stars had been the most beautiful place she'd ever seen … but that was before.

Everything glowed here. Halos of light formed around every tree, every rock, every mountain she could see in the distance. Sparkles shot off the water, glistening in every possible color. Strange birds that seemed to be made of gemstones and fire flew through the air. In the distance, Emma could see mermaids, splashing merrily in a lagoon, their brightly colored tails catching the light and shining like jewels. And far, far to the north, so far it was only just a speck, was a golden glow that felt like it was beckoning to her, even from this distance.

"It's real … " she breathed.

"Darling, you are glowing," Killian told her, and when she looked at him, her breath caught. She could see exactly what he meant, because he was shining like a beacon to her, too.

"This is … I'm just … " She could feel her lower lip trembling, and it was so stupid, because the last thing she should be doing was crying right now.

"Emma? Are you all right?" he asked her, and his face was full of concern.

She shook her head, then nodded, unsure of how to respond. "I … I mean, it's all real," she breathed. "I knew it was … it had to be … but … "

"We should rest," he told her. "There's a small village not too far from the mermaid's lagoon." He pointed. "They'll have room for us, and they might just be able to help us procure a ship for the rest of the journey." He nodded in the direction of that faint glow Emma had noticed before, the one that seemed to be calling to her. "That's the Hollow there. Do you understand now why I say taking a ship is quicker?"

She nodded, following him, her feet dragging as she tried to take in all of the sights at once. This was the only chance she'd ever have, after all. They'd go back to Storybrooke, and this place would just be a beautiful memory.

Killian was watching her, and when she realized how intent his gaze was, she actually felt herself blush a little. "I'm like some embarrassing gawking tourist," she muttered sheepishly.

"You're gorgeous," he told her, and she shook her head. "Emma, look at me." She raised her eyes to meet his, waiting expectantly for whatever it was that he was going to say. "You are, and someday, I hope somebody will make you believe that."

She frowned. That was a weird thing to say. "Somebody?" she asked him, that sense of dread creeping back up her spine again.

He rested his hand on her cheek, smiling gently, though she noted that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes this time. "Could be me," he said softly. "But I don't think there's enough time."

He started walking again before she could question him. And truth be told, she wasn't sure she wanted to question him. Whatever he was hiding, she just knew it was devastating.

She didn't want to be devastated again right now. She just wanted to pretend, for a little while, that this was the way it was supposed to be. She followed him as he walked, her eyes casting furtive glances up at him every so often, waiting for his expression to give anything away, but it never did.

She could feel words sticking in her throat, words that desperately wanted to break free from her … but she couldn't let them out, not right now.

"Killian," she said, after they'd been walking for nearly half an hour, wending their way through a forest full of trees that shone like silver, with leaves that chimed in the breeze like crystals.

He turned his head, looking at her over his shoulder, though he never stopped walking. "Yes?" he said, and his tone betrayed nothing.

"Whatever it is you're thinking of doing … please don't." Her voice sounded very small and very unsure, and she sort of hated it, but she was feeling the beginning edges of panic creeping up on her.

He stopped so suddenly that she ended up running into his back. "What is it you think I'm planning, love?" he asked, without turning around.

"I don't know," she said, wishing he'd turn around and look at her, but he didn't. "I don't know, and I know I told you I'd trust you, and I … I do, but … Killian. We're going back to Storybrooke … together, right?"

He didn't answer.

Oh God, why isn't he answering?

"Killian?"

She could feel the world around her starting to spin a little. The colors she had thought were so beautiful just moments ago now seemed harsh and garish. The sound of the breeze chiming through the crystalline trees was no longer charming, but instead shrill and nauseating.

She started to back away from him. She had no idea what she was going to do or how she was going to do it, but she'd made a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake. She'd let herself fall for him, and now … now he was going to leave her.

Just like everyone else.

"Emma, don't," and he reached for her, pulling her back, but she struggled to break free from his grasp.

"You don't!" she cried out . "How … how … how could you?"

"Emma … there was no choice," he said, shaking his head.

"There is always a choice!" she said. "Always! And you … you chose … "

"I chose you!" he shouted, and she could hear the anger, the desperation in his voice. "Doesn't that count, at all?"

"NO!" she shouted, and she didn't even care that tears were slipping down her cheeks now. She was so tired of losing everything, so tired of nothing working out. All she wanted was for one thing to go right. "Not if it means I'm going to lose you too! I need you!"

The words were out before she could stop them, and she wished, immediately, that she could take them back.

He looked as though she'd slapped him. "What?"

She swiped her cheeks angrily with the back of her hand, laughing bitterly. "I. Need. You," she repeated through gritted teeth. "Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Emma," he said, and he took a step toward her.

"Don't," she said, putting a hand up to stop him, but he persisted, pulling her up against him.

"I have to," he breathed. "My Emma. What part don't you understand? I didn't think I would ever, ever love anyone again … and then you … you bloody infuriating, aggravating, beautiful woman … "

She blinked, looking at him, unable to breathe.

"I love you, Emma Swan, does that count for anything?"

"Oh," she gasped, unable to even form a response to that, because his mouth was on hers then, kissing her as though she were the last bit of oxygen he needed to breathe. And with that, she felt everything inside her just break. She gave up fighting, gave up wanting to hate him, and just let herself sink against, opening her mouth and her heart to him, completely, at last.

She had no idea what was going to happen, she had no idea what awaited them when they reached the Hollow … but she knew what she felt, and she knew that she couldn't just walk away from him and pretend like it didn't matter. Because it mattered.

And she wasn't just going to roll over and accept losing him. No way. Not this time.

This one was hers. And she was damn well going to keep him, no matter what it took.