A/U Okay so, massive chapter - I know. Think of it as my way of apologizing for having such a long in between! I REALLY AM SORRY *hides behind King Colin O'liferuiner* Life has recently had a problem with my writing schedules and my muse was being temperamental...
Anyhow, this chapter was longer than I intended but – say la vie! I hope you like it and well… here we go!
Chapter Three: Not dead, Simply Gone
Killian's footsteps seemed to echo in the early morning silence as he walked along the wharf. The sun was glimpsing on the horizon, spraying the sky with pink and faintly orange light. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and yet it afforded the pirate no satisfaction. He reached the end of the dock and crossed his arms over his chest, holding in as much warmth as he could in the brisk air. Small white clouds of mist escaped his mouth as he breathed slowly in and out.
Flashes of the previous day imposed his mind's eye, making him close his eyes in an effort to subdue the bad memories. He himself could still not understand why he should be so affected by her passing. The woman had only been in his life for a short month or two and their interactions had been limited. But something within him could at least acknowledge that those small exchanges had possessed depth; every time he had been in her presence, she had seen past his façade like it was glass in much the same way he penetrated her internal walls. Every conversation had edged along a precipice which, had they fallen off, would have made things much too personal.
They were too similar and consequently knew the exact chinks in each other's armour; it was a weakness neither wanted to admit. And it was also why certain lines had never been crossed, because the provocation would have caused such an explosion of personally designed affronts that neither would have survived intact. Wincing, Killian realised the error in his train of thought; they had been too similar, had known the chinks in each other's armour. Killian looked down at the water, still consumed by his inner brooding. It was still so impossible to consider Emma dead, it was too sudden and she was too vibrant. The wraith should not have been her undoing.
Killian once again found himself visualising the great black thing hovering over her, drinking the life from her body as he kneeled watching – utterly helpless. Maybe if he'd moved faster, sooner, with more efficiency, she might be alive. But he should have known by now that wishing would not bring her back and it most definitely would not turn back time. He'd done enough of that after Milah's demise and he learned the hard way how analysing the past could affect a man.
For the umpteenth time that morning, a voice within him questioned his disposition. Why should he feel any sort of claim over her or sorrow for her passing? He had not known her long, he had not had any special relationship with her, he had not even really gotten along with her. If anything, Killian should have felt relief that one of the greatest obstacles to his revenge was dispatched. But no, instead there was hollowness to his movements, a look of desolation in his face that could not be explained or eradicated.
The pirate felt the air become marginally warmer as the sun began its ascent into the cloudy sky and the hues of orange and pink faded into the misty grey-blue. Even after the wraith had departed, the town had stayed covered by dark clouds. Storybrooke, it seemed, was openly mourning the death of its saviour.
Her body had already been taken back to her home where her family intended to prepare things. He didn't know what for – he didn't exactly know what they were supposed to do now. A funeral was so unfitting, or at least that's how Killian perceived it.
He let his eyes slowly drift up from where they had stared down at the dark water to the horizon. The sun was now fully visible and the bright spectacle of colour had fully dissipated. Killian took a deep breath in and prepared to head back to his ship where he would likely spend the day alone in his cabin nursing a bottle of rum.
Make no mistake; he still fully intended to seek revenge on the Dark One. It had just been shuffled to the back of his mind – dormant like a volcano ready to erupt once he was fully recuperated. His muscles still ached from their exertion the day prior and his head remained fuzzy from the extreme upheaval of unfamiliar and unexplained emotions.
Killian turned around but stopped, his eyes having passed over something strange. The pirate rotated so he was facing the rocky beach in the distance. There appeared to be three figures trekking across the pebbled shore. From where he was, he could recognize them as two females and a male.
Nothing about their presence should have intrigued him – for all he knew, they could simply be residents taking an early morning stroll. But Killian suddenly felt an urge to identify them, something incomprehensible prompting him to go down to the seashore. And so he turned around, but rather than take the route that led to his ship, he kept walking until he was on the road, headed towards the coastline where the strangers walked.
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The golden bell chimed sharply as the door was slammed open, nearly off of its hinges. It's tinkle disjointed rather than welcoming as the perpetrator entered the shop. He let the door swing closed of its own volition as he moved further into the room, searching for the owner. When it became obvious to him that the old pawnbroker was not around, instead of leaving, he bypassed the counter and headed straight for the back room.
Neal had only ever been behind the red velvet curtain twice, and that had been when his father had been dying and the day prior when he'd showed Emma the mark. The first memory was jaded by desperation and the hysteria of the man's imminent death, something that Neal had feared despite having preached immunity to sympathy for his father. The clutch of death usually brought out the best in people – in this case however, that statement had been proven indubitably false.
The back room was untouched since the last time he'd been there, when he'd been pacing as he awaited Emma's arrival. That morning, his mind had been consumed by what he would tell the mother of his child. His heartstrings tugged sharply at the thought of her and the inadvertent reminder that she was gone; lying unmoving on a soft white bed back at her apartment where her parents and son still mourned. Ever since Tamara's true intentions had been revealed, the dormant feelings for the blonde had stirred unwelcomingly – he'd told himself a long time ago that he wouldn't even attempt to regain her trust. And in his time in Storybrooke, she'd made it abundantly clear that she had no intentions of resurrecting their relationship. Nevertheless, his feelings had a mind of their own – growing in intensity every day he saw her and smothering him with grief now that she was gone.
Neal had left the apartment where she rested only a short while ago under the pretence of procuring food for Henry, entirely circumventing Granny's diner where people would have undoubtedly stared at the ex-lover of their dead saviour.
The sound of someone clearing their throat drew his attention from his inner monologue. Neal looked up, his eyes landing on a petite brunette to his left. She stood in the archway leading to another small room that looked to be the storage room for numerous potions. He recognised her as his father's girlfriend, Belle, he thought her name was.
"Excuse me, who are you and what are you doing here?" she asked brashly. Neal didn't bother with polite greeting; he was too far gone to care about etiquette.
"I'm Neal, Gold's son. Where is he?" he replied, looking around behind the woman to see if the coward might be hiding there. Belle stepped forward to level her gaze with his.
"I didn't know he had a son," she replied evenly, sensing the hostility in his voice and disliking that it was aimed at her. She hadn't done anything to provoke this man and so the anger was undeserved, it set her on edge. Neal looked down at her, surprised at how she was challenging him – he had never seen his father as the type to settle with a dominant personality.
"Lacey," a deep tinted voice spoke from Neal's left, making both him and the woman in front of him turn. It was Gold and he appeared unhappy at the notion that his girlfriend had interacted with his son, "Can you give me and Neal a minute?" Neal's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he watched her give him one last piercing look before strutting past the older man into the front area of the shop. Gold immediately stepped into the room and drew the curtain behind him. He turned around to address his son, but the latter had already begun a tirade.
"You had no right to do what you did!" Neal said angrily, striding forward purposefully, "and now she's dead!" Gold retracted at the venom in his son's words and looked down at his cane.
"It was never your decision to make! I was given the mark and I should have been the one to leave town! If you had have let me, she would be alive and so would I and none of this would have happened!" he roared. His voice seemed to rise with every word, becoming more and more intense.
Finally, Gold cut him off, talking loud and fast before the man could continue.
"I did what I did to protect you and besides… I thought she would have a better chance defending herself. She has magic, more powerful than anyone realises –"
"Had! She had magic!" Neal interrupted painfully. His father watched him intently for a moment longer before finally deciding to speak.
"Do you think her dead?" he asked curiously. The man felt his temper rise at the blatant apathy in his father's question.
"What do you mean 'do I think her dead?' She is dead! The wraith –"
"The wraith takes souls, not life. She isn't dead… just…"
"Gone," Neal finished, looking down. He didn't want to think about it – either way, there was nothing in this world that could save her. And with no way to leave the realm, letting hope light a candle in his mind would do nothing but hurt him. He had to let her go, but first he needed to apprehend his father.
"It doesn't matter what the terminology is. Either way, she's not coming back and that's a direct result of your interference… she's the mother of my child, Dad." His voice became quieter and he turned around to find something to lean against. He found a desk, the same one he had sat on when the man behind him had been slowly dying, and turned around to sit down on the edge. Gold watched him silently and waited until he thought the time was right.
"I'm sorry Bae, but you're the only thing in this world that I have anymore… Belle… she's not herself anymore. I love her but I don't truly have her anymore and I couldn't lose you," he explained quietly. Neal looked up at him and shook his head.
"You didn't have the right to make that decision for me or my son – Henry's without a mother now and you're sorry?" he asked incredulously, feeling the heat rise in his face as the anger washed over him in a surprising wave. Neal stood up and walked past his father and through the arch covered by the red-velvet curtain. The woman stood at the side and started slightly as he left, clearly having been eavesdropping. Gold followed his son and registered Belle's position and surprise at their sudden entry into the room, deciding to handle it later as he walked after Neal.
"I thought she would have been able to defend herself," he tried. Neal abruptly turned around.
"Well, she couldn't!" he yelled at his father, and then he spun on his heel and left. The door slammed against the frame and the bell looked as if it were on the precipice of breaking, its tinkle sharp and disjointed because of the force and suddenness with which the door had been closed.
Neal walked quickly away from the pawnbroker's store, trying to force his anger out through each step. He made his way silently through the streets of Storybrooke, trying to ignore the stares of the small number of citizens that were actually outdoors. The only sound was that of his shoes as they slammed into the pavement, a rhythmic noise that he concentrated on as he walked. By the time he reached the apartment building where everyone was still situated, he had all but let the anger flow out of him. As he walked up to the door he inwardly cursed – he'd forgotten about getting lunch for his son and tried quickly to think of a suitable excuse.
Shaking his head, Neal pulled the spare key to the apartment out of his back pocket and entered the apartment. It took him only a second of looking at the room to know that no one had moved since he'd left. Mary Margaret and David were still seated at the table, hands wrapped around their mugs as they spoke in undertones. He looked to his right where he could see through the flimsy curtains sectioning off the bed from the rest of the room. Henry was still seated on the edge of the bed next to his mother, hands clasped around her cold one as he looked at her.
The boy looked up at the sound of the door opening and gently placed Emma's hand by her side so he could shuffle of the bed and walk to his father. When Henry reached Neal, he immediately threw his arms around his waist and buried his face in his chest. The man put his arms around his son and waited for the kid to loosen his grip.
"Sorry I didn't come back with food, I just… uh, I got side-tracked," he said, cringing at the pathetic excuse. Henry shrugged and grumbled something in a croaky voice.
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The gravelly surface crunched under his feet as Killian trudged across the beach to where three figures were slowly becoming more detailed. It was most definitely a male and two females and one of the women was walking close alongside the man. The sun had risen higher now, illuminating the beach to the point that the white surface became harsh on his eyes. Killian squinted and put his arm up to block some of the light as he walked closer still. The people seemed to notice him and the man drew a sword and strode forward, one of the women did the same. As they neared, he recognised one of his oncoming attackers as she pulled off her helmet.
She too recognised him and put a hand on the man's elbow to pull him to a stop. He turned to her and gave her a questioning look, to which she replied with a shake of her head and an inaudible reply. The other woman caught up and the pirate immediately knew who she was, recognition was reciprocated in her soft eyes as she moved to the man's side.
"Mulan, Aurora. How did you get here?" he asked, stepping closer and putting his arm down by his side. The man, who he could now see was wearing heavy armour, immediately stepped forward in a defensive position.
"That is our business, pirate."
Killian shook his head and smirked in amusement, continuing his approach. "Who's this?" he asked, indicating the prince who eyed him with a mix of loathing and suspicion.
"I am Phillip and if you come any closer I'll be forced to stop you," the man, whose name was evidently Phillip, answered. Mulan put her hand on his elbow again and her grip pulled his gaze from the pirate. Killian stopped walking two metres from them and cocked his head to the side. The Asian warrior had exchanged some kind of wise words with the prince as he put away his blade.
"Hook, what do you want?" she asked articulately, taking the foreground. He let his smirk drop as he tried to search for a response. He didn't actually know what had driven him to seek them out and the question momentarily took him off guard. Luckily, Killian had become quite adept at maintaining a cool façade at time like this.
"I'm still waiting for an answer to my question, lass. Last time I saw your lovely faces was in the Enchanted Forest and I don't recall seeing you travel into the portal with… them," he replied. The sentence had begun as a smug statement and ended up reminding the pirate about her. His voice dropped off on the last word and he looked down as if bored to hide the lapse in his facade.
It was Aurora who replied this time, "We went through a portal and ended up here." She looked around her curiously and noticed the town in the distance. Killian realized they had obviously no idea where they were and looked up with a refreshed frontage of amusement.
"Well, welcome to a new realm my dear. If you haven't already noticed, this is not the Enchanted Forest," he retorted. Mulan shifted her metal helmet to her other arm and took a long look around them. Phillip still had his eyes plastered to the pirate and scrutinised him heavily.
"Where are we?" he asked.
Killian cocked his head to the side and thought about it: this realm didn't actually have a name, or at least not one that he had definitively heard. However, he did know the title of their specific location – but rather than relay the information he chose to fold his arms across his chest.
"What benefit do I get from telling you?" Killian responded, narrowing his eyes in much the same way Phillip did.
"That which comes from doing the right thing perhaps?" he countered.
"Oh, but these women should know I'm not the type to do the right thing."
Mulan frowned slightly and cut off the man beside her, "Actually, you are," she said. Everyone's eyes turned to hers and Aurora looked as if she remembered something. Killian's eyebrows furrowed before he remembered his act of decency at the lake. Phillip watched them all intently, waiting for elucidation. Mulan noticed his confusion and nodded to the pirate with less spite and more indifference.
"He saved Aurora's heart when Cora threw it into the portal at Lake Nostos. He saved her life," she said honestly, much to the surprise of Phillip. He turned to the other delicate woman beside him and she nodded in confirmation. The prince waited a moment longer, searching her eyes for any signs of hesitance before he tucked his sword back into his sheath. When his eyes met the pirate's once again, there was gratitude.
"I guess I owe you thanks, then," he said without bitterness.
"Speaking of Cora, where is the witch?" the Asian warrior asked, eyes quickly scanning the area for any signs of the sorceress.
"Dead," Killian answered, and all three people in front of him appeared relieved. Aurora leaned on Phillip affectionately, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her head chastely. Unfortunately, Mulan's interest had become invested in another topic at the dismissal of the prior one.
"So did Emma and her mother make it through?" she asked. Killian looked out at the horizon and nodded dejectedly. Mulan waited for him to explain and was slightly surprised when he didn't.
"Where can we find Emma?" she said. Killian flinched and looked down from the open sea to his feet. He bit his lip and took a breath, his reaction to the question raising concern among the trio in front of him. Aurora frowned and stepped forward to the dismay of Phillip and Mulan.
"Is she okay?" the young woman asked innocently.
"She's dead." Killian looked up as he said the words abruptly. Aurora stopped in shock and Mulan seemed to mirror her reaction as she watched the pirate for any signs of dishonesty. Phillip stepped forward and put a hand on the brunette's shoulder and Mulan ran a gloved hand through her dark hair. At that point in time, Killian made the decision to leave – he'd already witnessed the reactions of the blonde woman's family and he didn't intend to stay to watch more.
He turned around and moved to walk away just as the Asian warrior spoke up.
"What happened?" Mulan asked quietly, forcing the pirate to pause. He closed his eyes as he relayed the facts in as succinct terms as he could manage.
"She was marked with a wraith and it took her soul," he said harshly and started walking as soon as the last word had been uttered. It was silent behind him for a second and then the voices of all three people on the beach were calling out his name. The sound of the gravelly sand crunching under feet alerted Killian to someone approaching him and he turned around; it was Mulan and behind her Aurora and Phillip were making their way to him.
"Wait, she had her soul taken by a wraith?" she clarified and Killian looked away with a mixture of impatience and indignation.
"Yes."
"So did Phillip!" Aurora announced her arm around the man beside her as if to embellish the point, "He had his soul taken in the enchanted forest by a wraith!" Killian's gaze snapped onto theirs, moving between all three people to check for any signs of deceit. Phillip nodded when the pirate looked at him in a way that silently assured him that it was the truth.
"After the wraith took his soul we thought he was lost to us and then Cora hinted that there was a way to save him!" Aurora continued in a rushed voice, "And she wasn't lying! We saved him – he's just like he was!" She smiled at the last part and looked at him lovingly. Killian continued to watch them, unwilling to be played – to have one's hopes raised and then dashed was a painful plight.
"You're saying you can bring back someone's soul after it has been taken by a wraith?" he asked seriously, eyes darkening as he scrutinised each of them carefully.
Phillip smiled lightly, "If it were a lie, I wouldn't be here."
Seconds ticked by as they waited to gage Killian's reaction to the news. He kept his expression neutral as he internally debated whether or not to take their testimony as truth – he'd been wrong about people before. If it was the truth and her soul could be saved, did he really have any claim to the knowledge of how it was done – did he even really care? The latter question was answered when he considered the alternative; that they were lying and she was truly gone for good.
Killian didn't have a preconceived notion of care for her but the idea of saving her – bringing her back – seized him with surprising fervour.
"Come with me," he said, turning around and heading back down the beach.
"What?" Mulan asked, surprised by his abrupt change in disposition. Killian looked over his shoulder to speak.
"I'm taking you to her."
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Mulan, Aurora and Phillip looked curiously around the interior of the apartment building's foyer before they started the two flights of stairs up to her residence. Killian could swear he heard the prince make a comment about the small size of the castles in this realm and almost laughed as he remembered his own first week in this town. This world had been nothing but cruel to him – being beaten, hit by a car, shoved into an even greater car. Clearly, Storybrooke had taken a slow approach to welcoming him.
When they reached the door, Killian knocked thrice with his hand and waited for them to answer. He didn't actually consider that they might be aggravated by his presence until the door began to open. Charming had answered the door and as soon as he recognised the pirate, his stance tensed visibly. His eyes hardened and his fists clenched and Killian considered simply sending in the trio behind him without another word.
"What do you want, Hook?" David asked bluntly, his eyes never straying from the man's ice blue orbs. Killian held his gaze and tried to ascertain how he would explain his proposal without it sounding like a smug attempt to further wound them. "Can't you just lay off the antagonism until we've finished grieving?" the man said, his voice conveying just how intolerant he felt. At that moment, Snow came up behind him, her delicate hand pulling him back slightly when it landed on his shoulder. He turned to her, his face softening, and was about to tell her he would handle it when she noticed the three people standing behind Killian.
"Snow," Mulan said from the hall. The woman she had called stepped out of the apartment, past Killian, to the three people and was immediately embraced by Aurora. She returned the gesture feebly and looked unsurely at the prince. Phillip bowed somewhat and introduced himself. Apparently, Snow had been told about him because she nodded and attempted to smile to some extent. Mulan nodded solemnly and the pixie-haired princess returned the gesture before turning back to her husband. Killian had stepped aside slightly so he was to the right of the door frame.
"This is Aurora, Mulan and Phillip. We all met when Emma and I were in the Enchanted Forest," she said and Charming nodded comprehensively. She turned back to her acquaintances, "Come in." Mary Margaret walked past Killian and David into the apartment, followed – hesitantly at first – by the group of three. As they walked in, so did the pirate – choosing to ignore the hostile look that Emma's father gave him as he entered. He was responsible for bringing them there and therefore considered himself included in any further discussion that resulted from their arrival.
David begrudgingly closed the door, aware that stubbornness was a trait that his daughter had shared with Killian. Snow led them to the table where she took a seat and Aurora and Phillip sat opposite her. Mulan elected to stand and Killian moved to lean against one of the wooden supports in the room. When David reached them, he stood behind his wife's chair and systematically glanced at the pirate.
"How did you get here?" the woman asked delicately, putting her hands around a mug on the table. The steam coming from the rim suggested it was heated and she pulled it closer to her.
"We came through a portal after we saved Phillip," Aurora said and Snow nodded, ignorant to the implication of the concluding statement.
"Tell them what you told me," Killian said abruptly, drawing attention from both Charmings. Emma's mother frowned and turned to look at the couple at her dining table. Aurora smiled and placed her delicate hand over Snow's own that were still grasping the cup.
"Remember how I told you that the wraith took Phillip's soul?" she asked, and the woman in front of her abruptly tensed as her eyes landed on the man beside the young princess. Mary Margaret's eyes switched rapidly between Aurora and Phillip and David took her stunned silence as a chance to speak up. His attention was momentarily drawn completely away from Killian to the young couple at his table.
"What are you saying?" he said, despite the obvious connotation of the previous statement.
"There's a way to save souls," Mulan interrupted, "Phillip can verify it. He was all but dead up until about forty-eight hours ago." David turned his attention to the mentioned male, his eyes burning with the need to know whether it was true – whether it was possible.
"I can testify to the truth of what Aurora and Mulan are saying – I had my soul taken by the wraith and they managed to bring me back," he said reassuringly. David ran a hand through his hair and put the other on his wife's shoulder.
"How?" Snow asked desperately, leaning forward and moving one hand from around the mug to clasp Aurora's.
"Well, you have to go to Neverland and –"
"Excuse me?" Killian interrupted, his attention suddenly raised. He stood from his place against the wooden support and walked so he was standing at the head of the table looking at the princess.
"Saving a soul requires travel to Neverland," she reiterated slowly, and the pirate sighed. He could clearly recall his time in the realm that never aged and didn't sincerely like the idea of returning. That land, with all its beauty and wonder, was also by far the most dangerous he had ever traversed. It was any wonder he'd survived for as long as he had, but then surviving was something he excelled at.
"What's that look for?" David asked, scrutinising Killian.
"Not a place I'm too fond of is all," he replied smoothly, matching the prince's gaze with his own. They kept their eyes level for another second before the attention was turned back to the princess who began explaining how they managed to retrieve Phillip's soul. As Killian listened, he took mental notes of what to look out for when they would inevitably retrace the trio's journey (and secretly wondered what Deity was watching over them – Neverland wasn't easy to traverse on a good day, let alone two females alone and unknowing of just how lethal the beautiful land could be). He also began making plans as to what they would need – the journey would be rigorous and it would be dangerous, he would have to start topping up certain supplies immediately.
As she finished her recollection, all eyes turned to Snow who had sat totally engrossed throughout the explanation. She blinked and sat back against her chair. Snow tilted her face so she could see David and he bit his lip uncertainly.
"How do we know it'll work on her… magic is different in this realm," he said quietly. Killian frowned; of all the people he had expected might be cautious, David had not even been on the list. The man put on such a resolute façade, but even he wasn't immune to worrying about having his hopes raised only to be crushed.
"If there's a way to save her, we have to try," his wife replied quietly, and turned back to the three newcomers, "and you're sure that… it works?" Phillip smiled at the woman endearingly, nodding.
"If it didn't, I wouldn't currently be here," he said reassuringly, "I'm living proof that a soul can be retrieved." Snow nodded and turned to Charming again, who still looked tentative. Surprisingly, Killian found his hesitance aggravating – for a man who conquered a kingdom, he was acting awfully weak-willed when it came to salvaging his daughter's life. The pirate stepped forward, eyes trained on the prince.
"What are you so hesitant about? You have the testimony of three people that you actually trust," he said, "and you aren't sure? Do you want to save your daughter?" David stepped around the table and walked so he was directly facing Killian. Anger tinted his features and his fists were clenched tight by his side. The sound of his wife softly saying his name was almost a warning not to lose his temper.
"I want to save her more than anything, I'm just making sure," he growled with conviction.
"Interesting, considering we haven't even begun to discuss plans yet," Killian retorted steadily.
"Why do you even care, pirate?" David inquired angrily. The question took him off guard and it took real effort to maintain his unaffected façade. Why did he care so much about saving her? The question bombarded his thoughts and it was silent in the room as he formed a suitable response that would sate the prince's query without revealing his still-murky feelings.
"As much as you all think I'm a son of a bastard, I do have a code… Henry doesn't deserve to grow up without his mother and besides, she didn't deserve to die the way she did."
Killian's words hung in the air as David stared him down. The prince was apparently appeased by his answer though, because he stepped back and made his way closer to the table. Everyone watched David expectantly, subconsciously awaiting a verdict on whether they would pursue the hope.
"What will we need?"
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Neal walked quietly beside his son as they made the short trip from Emma's apartment to Regina's mansion. Shortly after he'd arrived back from the pawnbroker's store, Henry had announced a desire to see his adoptive mother and since Neal wasn't inclined to deny the boy anything at this point, there they were on their way to see the mayor. Storybrooke was quiet, and thankfully the citizens had the decency not to stare the way they had when it was just the man by himself. Neal guessed that it had something to do with having the kid with him – people were content with staring at a full-grown man because he was expected to handle grief eloquently and with dignity, but a kid was off-limits because their emotional capacity was limited at best. Neal sometimes hated people.
Eventually, the two of them were walking up the path edged by perfectly manicured hedges to the elegant white house. When they reached the door, it opened to reveal the owner of the mansion; Regina. She smiled sadly at her son who almost instantly ran into her arms. Neal watched the exchange indifferently; he couldn't afford to feel anything else anymore.
As Henry pulled away from his mother, she knelt down and whispered something inaudible. Neal assumed it was a request that he go to his room as he quickly and quietly made his way further into the house and up the staircase that was visible from the front door. When the boy had left, Regina let her attention turn to his father and her smile dropped.
"I'm sorry about what happened," she said genuinely.
He nodded in reply, "Take care of him and call me if you need anything." Regina nodded in understanding before stepping back and closing the door. The mayor took a moment to herself before turning around and heading slowly up the stairs, preparing to deal with her son's grief.
When she reached his room, the mayor walked lightly in and took a seat next to her son. Henry looked up slightly when she sat down and leaned into her side where she placed an arm around his shoulders. Regina pulled him closer to her so she could put her chin on his head. They sat like that for a minute, and it was oddly comforting for the boy. It was while they were sitting that way that the Evil Queen recalled something that made a small candle of hope light deep within her. She considered keeping the knowledge to herself for a split second - that's just who she was, it would be a lie to claim she didn't have some benefit from the saviour being dead. But seeing her son the way he was ultimately crushed any hesitance to relay the information she had.
"Henry," she said softly, pulling back and looking at him with a silently hopeful gleam in her eyes, "I think… I might know something that could help Emma." Henry's eyes visibly brightened and he leaned in closer to his mother.
"What?" he asked, "What do you mean?"
Regina smiled outright now, already beginning to feel content at having made her son happy, "I remember my mother telling me something a little while ago. When she was in the Enchanted Forest she was trying to bribe a girl who had lost her lover to a wraith. She told the girl there was a way to save souls… and she wasn't lying."
Henry's eyes brightened, "So you're saying…"
"There's a way to save Emma," she finished. The boy quickly enveloped his mother in a hug, squeezing her tightly before letting go and standing up.
"When do we start? How is it even done?" he fired the questions rapidly, "We need to tell Gramps and Grams. And my Dad! We need to get started!" His excitement would have been contagious had Regina not felt obligated to tell the full truth. It would have just been easier to join in his delight, but he needed to know specifically what knowledge she possessed.
"Henry… Henry, wait," Regina interrupted, putting her hand out and grabbing his arm, "I don't know exactly how to yet. But, there is a way and I will go through every magical document and I will interrogate every possible link to find out." His face dropped for a fraction of a second before it was lit up with something that the woman had sparsely seen from him; pride.
"You really are changing, Mom," Henry said.
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As the door closed, Neal turned around and left. He walked at a brisker pace now – since the kid wasn't accompanying him anymore, people would feel no need to curb their staring habits. It took him half the time to reach the apartment and he wondered what the Evil Queen would do with his son – baking did not seem at all appropriate and it wasn't like they could talk about anything of substance considering what had happened.
The sound of voices was audible from the apartment as Neal reached the hall. He quickly reached the door and entered the room, absentmindedly trying to ascertain why in the world they would have visitors and moreover what they could possibly be talking about.
Upon entry into the room, Neal stopped and scrutinised the people huddled around the dining table. Mary Margaret and David were on one side of the table and another unfamiliar couple were opposite them. Standing behind the foreign man and woman was another woman and each of the new comers was dressed strangely. And yet, Neal automatically placed them as having travelled from the Enchanted Forest – no one in their right mind dressed like that.
However, it wasn't their presence that caused his fists to clench; at the head of the table, leaning over a map, was Hook. He tapped the map in front of him with his good hand, his appendage at his side. Everyone paid strict attention to his words with the occasional input.
Neal closed the door and the sound of it reverberated enough to garner the attention of those standing around the table. Hook's eyes met his with obvious dislike and he moved to continue his apparent explanation. Mary Margaret and David nodded in greeting to the man in the front room as he let his attention fall on the strangers. The unknown couple smiled half-heartedly in greeting and the Asian woman behind them nodded in much the same way Emma's parents had. He moved closer to the table, picking up on the pirate's words.
"It will take us half a day to get from the entry point to Calcava Port. Once there we can get – what did you say we would need?" he said, indicating a line across the map with his finger.
The Asian warrior came to stand beside Hook, "Fairy dust, and lots of it."
He nodded in thought, gears already turning, "I have a friend who can help with that. After I retrieve that, we can probably bypass the mermaid's lagoon and head straight for the jungle that surrounds Lilith's Lagoon…" A bell suddenly went off in Neal's head; the landmarks being discussed were familiar to him. He knew all of them and it took him less than a second to place their location.
"Why are we going to Neverland?" the man said abruptly, walking until he was standing beside Emma's parents. He could now see the map on the table and the birds-eye view of the land sent shivers down his spine. Neal could vividly recall all the time he spent in the beautiful façade of a realm. Hook raised his eyes to reply evenly.
"To save the mother of your child," his attention was once again drawn to the map. He looked at it carefully and spoke to Mary Margaret and David as Neal stood in shocked silence.
"Should the boy come – and let me assure you that Neverland is a perilous realm – he will need to be concealed from others. If the lost boys catch word of a new child –"
"What? What do you mean – there's a way to save Emma?" Neal interrupted, having found his voice. The woman in mention's parents turned to him with eyes full of hope.
"Phillip," the pixie-haired woman said, indicating the man opposite her at the table, "had his soul taken in the Enchanted Forest and Aurora and Mulan saved him… there's a way." The aforementioned man nodded as if to support the princess' words and Neal frowned.
"And to do that… we have to go to Neverland?" he questioned. She nodded and Neal found himself seeking the pirate's gaze. Their eyes met and for a fleeting moment, they shared a knowing look. They both knew what traversing that realm would mean; constant danger.
"No offence to you, Phillip, but how do we know he's not lying?" Neal inquired, shooting the prince an apologetic look. Mary Margaret turned to face the two newcomers and her hand sought the woman he guessed was Aurora.
"Because, I trust them – we met in the Enchanted Forest," she said.
Neal nodded, "Okay… and are we sure it'll work?" Hook's eyes were trained on him as he said the words and he watched curiously as anger flashed in the icy blue irises. "I just mean… I don't want to tell Henry and have him get excited only to find out there's no use. Are you sure?" he asked again.
"If you don't believe it will work, you're presence isn't required," the pirate said bluntly.
"If there's a way to save Emma, I'm coming. I just want to make sure –"
"We are sure. Cowardice really does run in your family doesn't it? You won't even fight for the woman you claim to have loved," he spat in return. Neal felt a small part of him snap at the comparison to his father and stepped forward. Hook made way to meet him, his hand moving unconsciously to touch on the sword at his hip. Before they could meet halfway and exchange something other than words, Phillip and David were separating the two. David's hand pushed back on the pirate's chest as the previously soulless prince restrained the man.
"Listen, I know you're scared to raise your hopes but – listen – there is a way to save souls. Mulan and Aurora succeeded in bringing me back and there's a way to save your love too." Neal had his eyes on Hook as the man holding him spoke and was surprised to see him stiffen when the prince mentioned love.
Neal stopped struggling and Phillip released him and took a step back. David gave Hook one last look that conveyed all warnings necessary and took the same calculated step back that Phillip did.
"The only thing is," Phillip said, turning to address everyone, "you only have limited time. Should Emma lose all hope – as many souls do – then she will move on into death. Her soul will cease to exist altogether and her body will begin to decay. Until then, her body is safe and her soul is trapped in another realm." The room was silent as they comprehended the meaning of his words.
It was Hook who broke the silence, "If that is true, it is precisely why we need to begin preparations now and leave as soon as possible."
Everyone imperceptibly nodded in agreement. Yet, at the pirate's word, Neal found himself confused. It was as if the man before him was… consumed by the notion of saving Emma. And it didn't fit – as far as he knew, the saviour had known him and disliked him well enough. She'd also trusted him as far as she could throw him (but that was a tendency she displayed for all people she met). Neal watched Hook quietly as he continued to make plans, idly wondering what motivation he might have for wanting to resurrect her.
8888
The blackness was painfully thick and the air was like breathing through oil, thoughts lost meaning and significance, and numbness took its place. Shapes swirled until the blackness was more like fog, still there but fading; letting her surroundings finally take form. The ground was soft and the sky was grey and everything was still hazy as she felt her eyes regain their full ability to see. The emptiness above her was disconcerting and she moved her arms and legs to check she still retained mobility. As her limbs moved at her command, she sighed in relief and pushed herself into a sitting position. The ground was made up of a dark green grass and the field she was in stretched for miles. There was one defining feature to the land that took her attention – a road, dull yellow, that headed into the distance.
She stood up and was slightly dizzy for a moment, holding her head in an effort to maintain cohesive thought. And then, like a tidal wave rising up and crashing over her, everything became apparent. Memories flashed like lightning strikes behind her eyelids and she gasped at the onslaught of emotions they carried with them.
The woman looked around, trying to figure out what she was doing there – how was she even still in existence? Or was this the purgatory that so many religious activists had warned her about? Either way, staring at her surroundings, one thought rang loud and clear; a thought she felt was necessary to voice.
"I'm dead," Emma Swan whispered into the empty space.
P.S. HOW CANON IS OUR SHIP AFTER THE SEASON FINAL!? AMIRIGHT?