CHAPTER NINE

Emma cussed loudly, struggling with the bonds that were holding her pinned to the tree whilst a bunch of angry ten year olds danced around her with bows, arrows and makeshift wooden swords.

"I am not a Pirate!" Emma snapped; the sound of their high pitched hollering starting to grate.

"Your Red Handed Jill... you'd cut our throats in our sleep for your evil Captain Hook!" The annoying blonde with the war paint everywhere all but screeched at her, the sharp end of his wooden sword jabbing at her midsection as if to exaggerate the point.

Emma stared darkly down at him. "Your name wouldn't happen to be Peter would it?" she thought it was a good a question as any, but the kid reacted liked she'd slapped him.

"He's Pan!" the other boys bellowed almost in unison.

The boy himself held the wooden sword to her throat, "There are no names in Neverland, Pirate. We are the Lost Boys."

"Super." Emma muttered, smiling through her teeth at the little brat. "And I'm not a Pirate. I told you, my names Wendy and I'm trying to escape from Pirates."

"That's exactly what a Pirate would say." A pudgier smaller kid pointed out quite astutely.

"And your made up name is?" Emma quirked an eyebrow at him expectantly, which seemed to throw them all momentarily.

"He's Tootles." Pan grinned rakishly, giving Tootles a smug smirk, like he was teasing the boy for something. "And he's a fraidy cat."

Tootles looked startled, before his eyes narrowed like he was accepting the challenge. "If she's a Pirate we should shoot her." He raised his bow and without much more thought shot an arrow straight at her heart.

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Emma woke up, stunned to realise she was actually still alive.

"You're not a Pirate. Pirates don't have magic."

Emma closed her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. "I think I'd rather be dead than deal with this." She muttered, what the hell was she thinking, taking on eight boys, at least that's how many she'd counted, two of which seemed to be identical copies though, so she couldn't be sure.

"What's a Wendy?" he was persistent at least.

"A bird." Emma muttered, imagining how Hook would feel about her being shot with an arrow during this oh so great 'infiltration' plan. That line of thought was a mistake, thinking about Killian just made her chest hurt and her heart race, damn him. Being apart from him was a slow torture worse than the damn sexual tension they'd endured. Every other thought was about him and how much she missed his touch. Pathetic. This was why feeling anything for anyone was a mistake. At least the distance had given her back memories in some form though, she remembered the story of Peter Pan just fine.

Emma sat up, exploring her chest for signs of damage and coming away with nothing.

"How'd you do that?" Pan was right in her face, inches away in fact, clearly he shared the same notion of personal boundaries as Hook... and there she went again, every other damn thought about that stupid Pirate.

Emma stared shrewdly back at him. "Like you said, magic." this damn magic thing was getting worse, useful, but not particularly comforting. It had taken them months to track down these little bastards, months of skirmishes and Hook's careful plots that had ended in failure. 'Good always wins'. That's what Henry always said, upside of being apart from Hook, she could actually occasionally remember that she had a son to get back to, who had once told her helpful things like that. Sadly it was working against her now because technically she was on 'team Pirate' which she highly doubted was anyone's definition of 'good'. Ridiculous worlds and their stupid rules, this was why people occasionally rooted for the bad guy, at least then the story might be interesting.

"Why'd Hook make you walk the plank?" the new question confirmed her suspicion that he had a short attention span, apparently the talk of magic and her surviving an arrow to the heart had already been forgotten. He was like a living breathing reflection of Neverland... and she hated Neverland. As for the plank, that had been her genius idea to try and get the Lost Boys attention once they had finally found a location they liked to frequent, that and a few rounds of cannon fire. It seemed to have worked.

"Because he's an ass." Emma sighed looking down her shirt just to confirm that there really wasn't a great big arrow sticking out of it. "He thinks we'd make a great team," she smiled trying for sincere, "unfortunately I don't share his feelings and he's not a man that takes rejection well."

"So... we stole something from him." Pan was giving her a shrewd look, the corner of his mouth curved up into a smile.

"Yes. I suppose you did." Emma told him clearly, manipulation was never her strong point but he was only ten so she figured she had the advantage.

"Excellent." He rubbed his hands together like the maniacal little sociopath she was starting to suspect he was. "So, what shall I do with you? You're a girl. Girls don't come to Neverland, they're much too clever for that."

Emma smirked. "So glad we agree." She imagined most of them told him to bugger off when he came to try and steal them away. A woman always recognises a creep... even if she doesn't admit it to herself.

"Can you do anything?" he looked doubtful.

Emma dredged up every ounce of the Peter Pan story she could remember, mostly what she got was a couple of jumbled films, although she was fairly certain Wendy was supposed to be a storyteller. "I tell stories." He looked supremely unimpressed.

"What sort of stories?"

"All sorts, fairytales, ghost, adventure. Imagine what new games you could play if you knew the stories." Emma leant in conspiratorially. "And just between you and me, the Lost Boys could do with a Leader, a father figure, to keep them in line." It was almost too easy she realised as his expression froze, his calculating little eyes shining.

"I'm the leader, I'm Father!" he pointed accusatorily at her like she was trying to steal it

"Oh of course." Emma conceded. "But if you are going to be a family, to have order, then you will definitely need a mother. Someone to give them medicine when they are sick... or bad." She grinned darkly at him, "Someone to tell the stories, to cook the food, clean your clothes, to tuck you in at night." Ok so she was a lousy cook and if anyone put a knitting needle in her hand she'd probably stab them with it, but he wasn't going to know that.

His eyes widened. "You." He pointed at her, "You will be Mother." Emma suppressed the eye roll. "Well only if you think it's best. Father." She smiled, thinking that maybe school should be added to her to do list.

"Let's go tell the children." He grasped her hand, pulling her up and dragging her through the makeshift cave they seemed to call home towards the sounds of overexcited ten year olds armed with sharp objects... lovely.

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Emma placed her feet carefully mindful of how light sleepers some of the boys were as she made her way out of the clearing and into the forest, keeping her eyes out for Tinkerbell who seemed intent on making her life a misery. She remembered the vindictive little creature from the story and if she hadn't been sure she might need her dust she'd have accidentally stepped on her by now, as it was, she wasn't going to trust a word that came out of her mouth straight into Peter's ear.

"Hook." She hissed when she was certain she was out of ear shot. Of course there was no response. She removed the small mirror from her pocket and held it firmly in front of her, trying to summon up whatever magic was inside of her. This was a trick she and Hook had learned when they'd had to split up whilst they'd been looking for the Lost Boys, separating for short periods had also been a dry run for them & a way of ensuring they both stayed on mission, allowing them to retain the memory of the damn plan. Staring firmly into the mirror she placed her hand palm down over it, pushing every ounce of ill begotten feelings she had for him into the object until her hand was shaking. Finally a ripple shimmered across her own reflection, replacing it with a windowed view into his cabin.

Hook was sat his head lolling back over the top of his chair, legs propped up on the table, maps spread out everywhere, interspersed with flasks of no doubt empty rum. "Hook." Emma snapped directly into the mirror, seeing him bolt up, his hooked hand out, pointing around, until his wits returned and he spun on the ornate mirror that hung in his cabin. The smile that lit up his face made her stomach twist unpleasantly with a stupid desire to smile back widely, the desperate need to touch him, to try and reach through the glass and press her lips to him rose and she tried to quash it, it didn't help, her skin just started to itch, like she was trying to climb out of it.

"Emma." He breathed, his palm going flat against the mirror opposite hers, she could swear she could almost feel it.

"Killian, I don't know how much more of this I can take. I was barely a mother to my own son before all this, now I have eight little brats I'm trying to control. They have knives and fire and bows and arrows... I had to tie two of them to a tree when they tried to burn down the tree house the rest of them were in. This is insane!" he blinked and she took in a breath, trying to calm down.

"Been busy then Love?" he smirked and she couldn't help but smile.

"I miss you." She admitted, wanting to bite her own tongue out just for admitting it, but there it was.

"Now then, was that so hard to admit?" he smirked, like he knew it was the equivalent of pulling teeth for her. "I'll admit this separation has been longer than I'd imagined, you've been gone months Love. Tell me you are close to an answer because I feel like I'm going out of my mind here."

"He's an idiot." Emma bit out, her frustration with the blonde brat in the remnants of a loincloth and leaves boiling over. "And also a power mad little sociopath."

"I take it he isn't growing on you." Hook was clearly finding this amusing.

"Like a parasite." Emma muttered, "I'm playing mother, he's father, thank god his pre-pubescent little brain can't seem to figure out why that frustrates him so damn much."

Hook leant in closer to the mirror. "I had to move the ship." He admitted looking uneasy, "Took us a full two days out to sea, I was so close to storming that little island of theirs to come after you."

Emma closed her eyes as she slid down a tree to land on her ass, sighing deeply. "I'm miserable." She admitted. "I can barely concentrate, I have dreams about you. It feels like I've been torn apart." She admitted mortified that the words were tumbling out of her mouth, more so than she was about the dreams themselves, because telling him was just admitting he'd been right all along, that without him, was agony. "Every other thought is about you. It's driving me insane. I want to tear my skin off in frustration sometimes."

Hook she realised had bowed his head, his reflection so tantalisingly close and yet untouchable. "I know Love. A few of my men have left me. One jumped overboard, was afraid what I'd do to him when he found out he'd stolen rum. I can't hold my temper much longer." He looked apologetic. "I've locked myself in my cabin." He admitted, the idea of it was almost sickening to her, that she'd somehow reduced him to this shell of a man, hiding away in his cabin afraid of himself.

"How long can we keep doing this?" she breathed, seeing the question all over his face, but no answer.

"Does the boy trust you?"

Emma sighed. "As much as a ten year old trusts anyone. He's become very possessive of me, if I had to guess I'd say he has a little crush and doesn't know how to deal with it. Tink's tried to poison me twice, so I guess it's going well enough."

"Then ask him. Tell him you have a son that you want to join you both in Neverland as a Lost Boy. I'll bring the ship back in to the cove and await your signal." He was so matter of fact, so cold, it wasn't the Killian she was used to seeing, it was like every inch of his charm had just bled out of him, and he was just one overexposed raw nerve, with a blade for a hand.

"Killian," she breathed tracing her finger across his face through the reflection.

"Don't." He turned away from the mirror. "I can't do this much longer. Get your answer or I'll have no choice but to come after you." He disappeared and Emma closed her eyes, dropping her hand from the mirror and feeling the magic bleed out of the object, until it showed only her own reflection again.

He was in pain. She was in pain. The tension of being together before had been so bearable in retrospect compared to this fresh agony of separation. But he was coming for her now, he'd told her as much, which meant she had two days to convince Peter to give her the answers she needed, or Hook would force them out of him at the point of a blade.

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"What do you mean you have another son Mother?" Curly grasped her hand tightly dragging her down to his level, his face fierce, out of all of the Lost Boys, this one she liked the best, but it was a little bit like choosing your favourite carnivorous vulture to get bitten by.

"I just mean, I have another son, just like you boys, and I worry about him, he will grow up without me." She felt Nibs take her other hand and she held back the grimace at the stickiness of whatever had been on his palm transferred itself to hers.

"Father will know what to do Mother. He knows everything." Nibs seemed quite sure of it and she admired his simple assertion, his faith, even if it was only because he knew nothing else. It would still be nice to have that kind of belief in someone.

"Yes, but what if Father thinks that we don't need another son." She pressed, trying to get them all on side, knowing full well that the only way to convince Peter would be to somehow make it his idea.

"Can he do anything, this new son?" Slightly stalked over, finally getting involved in the conversation.

Emma smiled. "Oh yes." she leant in closer sharing it like a secret with Slightly, "He can find anything."

The boys frowned, Nibs was fractionally brighter than the others, he crossed his arms across his chest thankfully dropping her hand and staring hard at her, "Like a hunter?"

"Or a tracker?" Curly piped up looking hopeful

"Exactly." Emma sighed, relieved that she had got their interest. "He once travelled all across the land, completely alone, to find me." Ok so that wasn't exactly a lie, and they were looking impressed now.

"He'd be an excellent Lost Boy." Nibs declared and the others nodded sharply, Emma suppressed the grin, letting it become a more natural smile.

"Father needs to decide." Emma pointed out.

"Yes let's tell Father." Slightly declared as they all marched off excitedly.

"We need a tracker!" Curly nodded firmly in her direction like it was all their idea and they all disappeared off to convince Peter.

"Idiots." She muttered; her ability to tolerate the constant sensation of being torn in half had faded since seeing Hook in the mirror. The wound was raw now and she desperately needed to scratch it. Only the knowledge that he was edging ever closer to her with every hour that passed was the only thing that kept her sat uneasily in the Lost Boys camp, rather than charging across the island to the cove where his ship would hopefully be waiting now for her signal... how much longer would he wait, he'd said two days, for all she knew, he and his crew might be making their way by foot to them even now. She had to hurry.

"Mother!" Peter declared, startling her as his rousing voice jolted her out of her manic thought of running to Hook, at least for the moment, as she watched the blonde headed boy quite literally fly to hover in front of her. Her mouth opened and closed, momentarily stunned. He really was flying.

"Your flying." She managed stupidly and he stared at her like she had two heads.

"Well of course Mother. The Lost Boys think we need a Tracker, we need to go find one, bring him here to be with us." Emma swallowed. Right.

"I know where you can find a Tracker." She saw the boys heads appear behind him as he hovered, his hands on his hips, waiting impatiently for her with a wide grin on his face, it was strange to see the magic of Neverland in action, especially on their memory, they'd forgotten entirely that it was supposed to be her son, just remembering what was important to them.

"Tell me. And I shall get him!" Peter declared.

"I can't." She apologised, standing up and finding hovering like this, that he was now level with her height. "But I could show you. He's hiding you see, because he doesn't want to grow up." Emma smiled through her teeth, certain that if she ever got out of this, she'd be making sure Henry locked his window at night, she didn't want this little sociopath anywhere near her son.

Peter's grin was radiant and it gave her a twinge of guilt. "Then Mother, you will just have to come with me!" He looked so proud at his idea, "Oh the cleverness of me." Emma froze, staring at him, the phrase was far too surreal as he grasped her hand, dragging her along the ground behind him as he bounced along, like an astronaut on the moon, light as a feather.

"How will we get there, Pan I can't fly." She tugged on his hand, trying to slow him down, she needed to get him to tell her how to do it without actually doing it, she couldn't leave Hook. The idea of leaving him was actually painful, granted she knew that was mostly Neverland's magic acting on her, but it didn't matter, it still bloody hurt. Besides she owed him, and if she was gone, leaving him hear alone to suffer in misery without her... because of this stupid Curse between them, that would just be too cruel. Of course trying to leave him would have been impossible anyway, she simply didn't want to; hadn't spent the last however long it had been...years maybe? All of that with him almost every moment of the day, she couldn't just abandon him now.

Pan stopped, turning back to glance at her confused. "Stardust of course. Here take some of mine." He smiled, shaking his hair and dousing her with the sparkling stuff as it settled all over her skin, until she started to feel like there was air inside of her, she felt light as a feather, like she could jump straight up to the clouds. It was incredible as she leapt, laughing out loud as she landed feather light twenty foot from where she'd been. Pan followed, clearly enjoying her enjoying herself.

"Where do we go Pan?" she asked eagerly, trying to keep the excitement infectious get him to say too much as he landed beside her.

He beamed, taking her hand and pointing her to the sky. "There, we fly out until we're over the sunken city, where the mermaids live."

"Do we need to think about something... happy thoughts?" she pressed as he bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly eager to be gone.

He laughed, "Why Mother, aren't your thoughts always happy?" he was grinning like an idiot and she tried to grin back. No. They weren't. "You just imagine that other place, remember what it was like back there. How they wanted you to grow up... how they left you alone, how everything was cold and dark. It's a bad place. That's why we need to bring the boys here Mother. To save them!"

Emma grasped his hand, her heart pounding. "Thank you Peter." She told him firmly, seeing his expression sour at the use of his name as he turned back ready to cuss at her, but he was too slow to react as she pulled the pouch she'd tucked firmly beneath her shirt out and blew the contents straight into his startled face. He breathed it in his eyes instantly taking on a filmy look as he staggered, the lightness of his step failing as he came back to earth landing heavily against her, catching his unconscious and suddenly quite heavy body firmly.

"Well played Love." Hook's voice startled her and she spun, seeing him emerge from the forest, his stride determined as he approached her. Emma froze, her heart pounding, as she stared at him, the limp boy in her hands fell to the floor forgotten just as Hook reached her and crushed her to him, his mouth finding hers and all but inhaling her.

"I have a plan." She promised her hands running through his hair resisting the urge to tear his clothes from him and press her lips to every inch of flesh she revealed.

"Shut up." He hissed, dragging her head back down so he could kiss her, whilst managing to press every inch of himself into contact with her, he was almost feral she realised as she tried to calm them both.

"We have to focus." She pushed him away. "He won't stay out forever."

"NO." Hook roared, pushing her back against a tree in a disturbingly familiar way.

"Killian." She caught his face in both her hands. "Get a hold of yourself. We're nearly there." Her sharp voice seemed to startle him and he dropped his forehead to hers, breathing heavily, but at least he'd stopped. "It's time to go." She admitted quietly. "We'll be fine there."

"We'll be apart." Hook murmured; he seemed to have lost what little reason he'd started with, clearly being apart from her without the same pre-pubescent distractions she'd had, had been harder for him to keep perspective.

"We'll be ourselves." Emma snapped back, shaking him slightly and trying to get the dashing man she knew back. "Snap out of it. I'm here, your here, we're going to get what we both wanted and..." she sighed admitting it. "And we are going to be there together, in case you hadn't noticed, I waited for him to spill before he flew me off to his secret portal in the sky, so that I could come get you."

Hook smirked. "I'd noticed." He backed off, looking perfectly normal as he stepped over the unconscious Peter Pan, turning back to give her a smug look.

"Did you just play me?" she stared almost surprised, clearly she'd been spending too much time with unschooled simpletons if he could pull one over her so fast.

"No." his sarcasm was ruined mostly by his clear amusement. "But it is lovely to know you feel so strongly about us. I'm taking that as a promise by the way Love."

"Oh shut up." She snapped, "and get his legs. We need to get him on board the ship. I take it your men rounded up the Lost Boys already?" she quirked an eyebrow at him, "Carefully?"

"Why what are you planning on doing with them?" he grasped Peter's ankles as she grabbed him beneath the arms, lifting, apparently he was heavier than he looked and no longer light as a feather.

"They're children. Irritating, half feral, but children, I'm not just going to leave them here." She rolled her eyes as they shuffled the boy along between them.

"And how do you intend to do that Love?"

Emma smiled thinly "Magic."