He is beginning to hate that black door. Sitting in front of the damned thing does nothing for his plans, and pacing in front of it only serves to tire him out after his long journey (and the well-placed knee of Emma's). After he has glared at the cream-colored wallpaper and cursed everything from Emma's stubbornness to her good aim, he sighs angrily. The sounds of a family eating breakfast bleed through the accursed door, talking about things that have nothing to do with Storybrooke or the Enchanted Forest or green witches or dashingly handsome pirates. Three times he raises his good hand to knock again at the black wood, and three times he lowers the fist to his side. Finally, he decides that waiting there by her door after she had so gracefully ousted him from it would seem a bit odd, and, if he's honest (which he is—mostly), a bit desperate. And Captain Hook is anything but desperate (even if Killian Jones is).
It is as he is storming down the carpeted stairs (he absolutely refuses to enter the boxed death trap which moves up and down on tiny cables) that he feels the bottle bouncing against his ribs. He never forgot the blasted thing; Baelfire had discovered the concoction in the old alchemy tower of his father's ruined castle (damned Neal; it's hard to like someone who is after the same woman, who is so much like his coward father that he decides against a journey to find said woman, and yet he cannot hate Bae, not when Baelfire had so much of his mother's spirit). He had given the potion to Hook, telling him that it would make Emma remember. Bae had also asked Hook to tell Emma she was missed, and that she was never far from his thoughts. Rolling his eyes as he steps into the foyer of the apartment building, Killian thinks that it would have done him far less good to kiss Emma and then tell her not only that he loves her, but also another man loves her; even less so to tell her that one is a pirate and the other is the son of Rumpelstiltskin. She probably would have sent for the authorities far sooner.
Walking into the dreary city where he was once abandoned (by the same woman he is trying to save), he is assailed by the cold, pelting rain. All around him people swarm, their heads covered by odd contraptions by which water bounced, protecting the populace that were fortunate enough to own such devices from becoming drenched, as he is becoming. As he is in his finest leather (nothing but the best for his darling Emma), it is not a comfortable feeling, and he is anxious to find lodgings where he can best put together a decent plan for either winning Emma's heart again, forcing her to drink the potion, or a combination of both. He is not sure which would keep him from becoming injured once more, and would quite hope to avoid further damaging his…goods. He knows that it would be quicker to force Emma to drink the concoction, but the bit of pride and dignity he has left wants her to remember who she once was because of him, not because of something the crocodile had created.
He rushes through the street, spots a promising hovel that claims to serve the finest "brew" in the state (he wonders if it means rum—he could do with a bit of rum), and makes his way towards it, dodging the strange people with their water deflectors. He attracts a few stares when he walks to the barmaid; it is useful having this fake hand, but he misses his hook when many gawp at him so. Although, in this bizarre land the metal curve of his favorite appendage would probably draw more than just stares.
The barmaid eyes him with either interest or unease, but greets him nonetheless. "Ah. Yes. Hello, love. Ehm..." He glances around him for something resembling rum, but sees nothing that looks like his favorite brown drink. He does, however, see many patrons with mugs and cups of plastic with some kind of murky brown liquid, and decides that it must do. "Yes, I'll, um, I'll have that. That drink there." He points to a man with a frothy mustache, thinking that it couldn't be that bad. The barmaid asks for coins, and he realizes then he has none. Well, none that could be accepted in this strange land. Bugger. "Oh. It seems I have misplaced my silver, love. Could I owe you a debt?"
It is not long after this he is forced under the bloody rain, yet again. By the look of things he'll fall ill before ever recovering Emma. Speaking of….As his location is not far from her lodgings, he is able to catch a glimpse of her and the boy (Henry, he really should start calling him Henry; it was hard, though, as the child either got lost or changed his face before Killian could actually get to know him). They are standing near Emma's yellow vessel (no, they call them something else here…cars?), and she too has the strange water deflector, and she uses it to protect her son as he folds himself into the vessel. Then, without even a glance around, she packs away the device and steps into the car. He watches as it sails away (although not as smoothly as his beautiful ship; how he misses the Jolly Roger) and wonders when she might return. He thinks he might wait in the foyer of her building once more, at least until the infernal rain lets up. Maybe he would avoid catching a cold if he were rest somewhere dry.