First entry upon returning from Hamelin

Day 1

Just ended the worst three months of my entire existence. And, as I have well established before, my existence has been a rather long one.

So I'm starting over… once more.

I remember very little of the actual enterprise that was entering the black hill where the children had been enslaved. The wizard was strong and (I have to say) where it not for the Crocodile, instead of being partially hit by whatever sorcery the Piper had cast on me, I'd be dead. Nonetheless, I was hit rather badly and was unable to carry out much more than what I did.

Swan was with me still at that point. I vaguely remember. It is rather a hazy memory, but I recall only the light in her eyes and the sound of Henry's voice announcing all the children were alive and well. It was enough for me to allow myself to let go.

I thought I would have most likely have passed away. I know not how many days we spent there, or I do now because of Swan's entries, which I had not looked upon till yesterday. But I have no full recollection, other than a hazy set of memories: Swan's voice begging me to hold on, Henry doing the same, the bleak light of a candle, the foul odor of some odd herbal remedies and pain, searing pain.

Taking all that into account might explain why these have indeed been the worst three months of my entire existence, again. I thought my Swan, my savior, my love and wife and the mother of my children, was dead and gone. Again.

According to David and Mary Margaret, I woke up in the hospital a week after we returned. They claimed that I had damn near been another toll number in the reaper's agenda, it seemed. My wounds became angry and sore and had started to blacken and it was only just in in time when Whale had started treating me for my injuries.

I remember nothing… except waking up and looking for her hand. But I was met with David's beady blues instead.

After they enquired how I was feeling, my first thoughts went to the children. I recognized my surroundings; this was Storybrooke Central Hospital. So I had either dreamed the whole ordeal or all had transpired and I had been far too oblivious and unperceiving to remember. I asked about the outcome of the mission and the babes of Storybrooke, and Mary Margaret's grin was terribly reassuring. All were well. All children had been sent to their realms and the reign of the evil Piper was over. And all of Storybrooke's babes were accounted for: Rumplestiltskin's, the Charmings' little girl and my three wee ones, as well as countless others who had returned home to gladdened and relieved mums and dads. All were doing well, none had been harmed (or eaten! Thank the gods for that!)

So then I asked about Emma.

All it took for me to know the dire outcome of my lady Swan was the look on Snow's face. David didn't fare much better. They instantly teared up.

"She… fell…" David sniffed at me. "As we were stirring out the harbor and the bean had opened the vortex, she… slipped off the edge…"

Snow blatantly wept. "We didn't even have time to throw a life saver or jump after her. The vortex sucked us in."

"And it was a high fall, Hook…" David added sadly. "It's just… us now. Emma's gone. She saved us… she …died, saving us all."

"We're so… so sorry…" Snow finished before David held her.

He held her.

And I lay there, recovering, with no one to hold or to hold me. My Emma was gone.

I remembered having her in my arms when the White Witch got her. This was far worse. I had nothing, no one to mourn, no sweet face to kiss farewell or weep over…

I don't remember much after that. I was sedated for a week. I wanted to kill and die, except there was no one who could be blamed for my Emma's demise and hence, no wish for vengeance, for retribution, would ever be able to replace the gaping hole in my heart. So I blamed myself. It was I who was supposed to protect her till the very end and she died, she died to get me to safety.

Bad form and dishonor, that's what I felt. And I would have wished for death, were it not for Henry's visitations. He assured me the children were quite well and back home, safe and sound. But the sadness we shared was undeniable. We wept together, the boy and I, bloody hero he is! Pride and anger and joy and sadness and the feeling of loss I hadn't felt in so, so many years. I could no longer wish for death… I had them, my little pieces of Emma Swan, to look after. They are her and she is them and nothing would ever, ever get in the way of me being by their side, even if I never again see, touch and smell another woman. I cannot. My capacity to yearn and love a female ended with her last breath. And I won't allow the ache to linger for three hundred years. I felt that the sooner my natural death came about, the better, so I could be with her again.

My beautiful Swan…. My princess…. My lady in a red dress. Gone.

A week after I was discharged from the clinic, David organized a rather quick memorial. She was a princess and she deserved at least that. But all the more, she was our savior. Every parent in Storybrooke, every merchant, friend, fiend and fisherman, was there. I was unable to do much more than to simply throw some flowers into the water, one baby girl in my arm and one small infant toddler boy in my other hand, Henry standing guard behind me with tears in his eyes.

I also allowed some tears of my own to join her in her journey; she was forever taking my heart with her.

"All Swans belong in the water…" I managed to say. "As do pirates… so till we meet again, Swan, wait for me."

And it took another two months for me to muster up the bravado to open this journal and see her words. Chapter for chapter, I read through un-blinked tears as she spoke of how she and Henry and all of them dealt with the wizard, the hopelessness in the cursed stone brig and the sudden surprise of Henry becoming the hero he'd always dreamt of being… My injuries, her love and concern, her fear of my untimely demise…

And her sacrifice.

To suddenly read that she was not dead was… still is the biggest breath of air anyone could ever hope for. To find your loved one still lives, even if apart, is just…. No, I have no words. I become emotional, just thinking of it.

My Swan needs me, but I must act in good form. I still am under medication, a sequel of my dreadful injuries. I have to be well, entirely well, before I attempt any sort of claim on her rescue mission. She asked it of me and I will abide by her wishes, as I always do. But for the time being, I have informed my son, who wept and leapt and laughed and became angry all at once from the news. His mother lives! My swan LIVES! I cannot even bring myself to completely convey the joy in me.

So for the moment, I have adjourned a meeting: The queen, The Crocodile, The Charmings, The Thief (he's a mighty good chap with a crossbow, if I do say so myself!) and now, Henry. Yes, he's rather earned his rite of passage, brave young man!

So bloody proud, I can't even think! Bae, wherever you are, know that your boy (and mine) is bloody brilliant and amazing and all that is good in this earth!

I will write in detail the proceedings of the meeting in the next log entry. Gods bless Swan for addressing her final entry to me and cursed be my delay in finding her words… I am sure she has already devised ways to help us all rescue her. Or to help herself, knowing her. Bloody beautiful, amazing lass that she is.

We will get you, Emma. You'll be home with us all in no time, darling. I love you.