Chapter 17: The Devil You Don't

She was entitled to change her clothes at least. She hadn't slept, she'd barely eaten, she was staggering on her feet, she was heartbroken and furious and scared, but at least she could wipe the ruined makeup off her cheeks, scoff a few cups of industrial-strength coffee, and knock around her apartment like a shiftless ghost, noting abstractly that the chucklehead Hook had left tied up in here had in fact managed to free himself and escape. She wondered where he'd scuttled off to. Out of instinct, she checked the place she hid the emergency cash, and was relieved to find it was still there. At least the guy hadn't bothered to stuff his pockets before he booked it.

Emma went into the bathroom, stared at her spectral face, and rubbed her fingers beneath the dark circles, her skin fine and translucent as bruises. She effected terse repairs from her cosmetics kit, ran her hands through her unwashed hair, and knotted it into a sloppy braid in futile hopes of disguising it. Then she went to her dresser, pulled out clean clothes, and stripped off her old, dirty, sooty ones, the ones that smelled too much like the Locker. Too much like Hook. She couldn't stand the reminder, couldn't give Gold any reason to think she was backing out of this one too. Or else. . .

She threw the dirty clothes in the hamper, grabbed a bottle of the five-hour energy stuff out of the fridge, and tossed it down like a shot, gagging. If that plus the three cups of coffee couldn't keep her awake until she could get some proper sleep, well then, they were all just fucked and Gold could shut the netherworld portal hisdamnself. They hadn't been eaten by the Thing from the Black Lagoon yet, so she figured there was time.

Emma took a final look at herself in the mirror, wished vainly for her vanished gun, and took a step toward the door. Precisely as she did so, it echoed with a sharp rap.

She sighed and opened it. "I'm sure there was no stalking involved in this at all, was there?"

"I prefer to call it punctuality, Miss Swan." Gold made a gesture that was only slightly sarcastic. "If you'll come with me. There are a few things we need to fetch from my shop before we head out to the woods."

Emma rolled her eyes, but could think of nothing to say as she trailed after the pawnbroker down the stairs and out into the lurid dawn, where his old black Cadillac was idling at the curb – he'd left the keys in and the engine running because apparently there was nobody crazy enough in town to steal Rumplestiltskin's wheels. She ducked into the passenger seat and buckled up as Gold executed a perfect three-point turn and roared off the other way.

Conversation, to say the least, was minimal. A few minutes later, having rolled straight through the one Main Street stoplight, they pulled into the back alley by the pawn shop and growled to a stop. But as Emma opened her door and started to get out, she caught sight of a dark figure standing underneath the sign, staring up at it, transfixed.

"Hold on," she hissed at Gold. "There's someone there."

He didn't appear concerned at this information. Just threw her a textbook "bitch please" shrug and opened his own door, limping around the square hood of the car with her, again, tagging nervously behind. Without her gun, she was going to have to throw some judo moves or something, and Gold could maybe stab them with his –

She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Oh," she said. "You."

"Yeah." Neal Cassady turned toward them, hands shoved belligerently in his jeans pockets. There was an entirely different aspect to his face than had been there just hours before, when he'd surprised her in the hospital and Henry had run away from her. So much, in fact, that it was like looking at another person, like a veil had peeled away. "I remembered."

"I'm – sorry?" Emma did not want to have this conversation, in no world did she want to be having this conversation, especially with Gold breathing down her neck.

"I remembered," Neal said, almost in a whisper. "A while ago, I said there was some other reason I came to Storybrooke, but I couldn't remember what. Like there was another part of me lurking somewhere. . . and I didn't know it. Well, it's back now. I remembered why I forgot. I spent a few hundred years in Neverland, that can take your memories, and when I was spit up here, I was only plain old Neal. But I'm not, am I?"

"I. . ." Emma could only stare at him. It was like having a dog stand on its hind legs and start reciting Shakespeare, the cognitive dissonance was so extreme. Neal, Neal, knew about Neverland? He'd been there for a few hundred years? He'd forgotten, or he'd remembered –

"I'm sorry," Gold said curtly. "This is all very fascinating. May I help you?"

"You!" Neal shoved past Emma and faced Gold down, fists clenched. "You! You haven't changed at all! I helped you, I helped you use magic and track down the pirate, you're still the same, the same! You did this somehow, this is all your fault! I can't believe I fell for it!"

"I beg your pardon?" Gold was all smooth, cold ice. "You are the one who's standing in front of my shop, therefore I can't be blamed for whatever situation you have put yourself in. And at the moment, you are causing a dangerous distraction. Kindly get out of the way."

"Yes, that's what you've always thought, haven't you?" Neal actually looked like he was preparing to take a swing at the slight pawnbroker, something that Emma was going to be honor-bound to prevent. "A distraction from your magic, from everything that wasn't about you getting more and more power and hurting more and more people. Isn't that right. . . Papa?"

Both Gold and Emma blanched. It was hard to say which of them was more floored. Gold's entire expression changed in an instant; he went from looking angry to looking stunned. He reached out a shaking hand. "Bae. . . Baelfire? My boy? My. . . my son?"

"What the. . ." Emma could only stare wildly back and forth between them. "What the – what the fuck is this. . . this Star Wars shit?"

Neither of the men paid any attention to her. Neal continued to look as if he was about to have a coronary. "Don't you dare call me that. Don't you dare."

"Bae?" Gold repeated, so desperately that Emma actually almost felt bad for him. "You came here? You found me?"

"I wouldn't have come here in a thousand years if I'd remembered!" Neal ripped away from him and wheeled on Emma. "You! Why didn't you tell me? All this time you were part of this, part of magic – I said I was sorry, I said I wanted to make it up to you, but you lied to me and betrayed me far more than I ever did you! You're one of them too!"

"I. . . I what?" She stared at him, horrified. "What are you talking about? What did I do? What do you mean, I lied to – I never knew, I don't even know what you're – "

"This is your fault." Neal pointed a finger in her face. "You took my son away and you let me think that I was the one who'd set you up. But it wasn't. It was you, and – "

"Son?" Gold cried. He turned a wild expression to Emma. "Are you meaning to tell me that this – that him – that he's – "

She could see nothing to be gained by denying it. "Yes," she whispered. "This is Henry's father."

"But that means. . ." Gold looked even more distressed for some reason. "Henry was the one who brought you to Storybrooke and Henry was the one who. . ."

"I met him in the hospital, yeah," Neal interrupted. "I went looking for him after you – " this to Emma – "told me who he was. That's how I ended up here."

"So he. . . led me to you." Gold was still staring at Neal. "The boy. Henry."

"If you want to call it that, yes. And with this shit, with both of you – "

"You told me!" Emma interrupted, her voice rising shrilly. "You said you just listened to what August told you, that you let me go to prison because Pinocchio told you to, you just shrugged and said that's fate? And now you're here telling me that it's my fault I – "

"I thought you were a victim too!" Neal hissed. "I thought you were caught up in all this stuff and that was just how it was! If I'd known who you really were, I wouldn't have come near you! I never thought you chose all this!"

"Maybe because I didn't! Because you never let me make it!"

"This is not my fault." Neal heaved a breath. "This is not my fucking fault and I'm not going to stand here and listen to you saying it is. I'm sorry I ever came here, I'm sorry I ever thought it was worth my time. I'm going back to New York and you never have to see me again. But you better get ready to talk to my lawyer, because I know a really good one. Her name's Tamara, we've been seeing each other. We're going to have a little talk about who is going to take care of Henry, and who's going to be in his life."

"How. . . dare you." Emma was speechless. "You just expect – "

"I expect to be part of my son's life? Yeah, I do. Because I'm not doing what this guy here did." Neal shot a look of blackest loathing at Gold. "Get used to it."

Actual tears were rolling down Gold's face. Emma had never seen him so completely disarmed. "Bae. . . my boy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I can make it up to you, I will make it up to you, I'll never leave you again. I can turn back the clock, I can use magic for good. I can make you fourteen again, restore all the time we lost."

"Are you insane? Lose all my memories and become a teenager again, by magic? When I've just found out about my son and that he's here and I want to be his father? You really think that's what I want? Congratulations. You haven't changed at all."

"Bae. . ." Gold held out both hands, imploring for an embrace. "Let me make it better. You want a relationship with your son. . . and so do I. More than ever."

"It's too late for that, Papa." Neal turned away, staring back up at the pawnshop's sign. "You should have tried that a lot earlier. I never got closure. You don't get it either. You're still using magic, you're still hurting people. And it's your fault that I didn't remember. I don't want anything to do with you."

"Bae." Gold took another desperate step. "There's no greater pain than regret."

"Try abandonment."

"Like you abandoned me?" Emma bit out.

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just is. And I'm done with this, with you, Papa. Go on. Goodbye." Neal moved around them both and started to walk away.

"Bae – no! Wait, wait! I won't use magic if that's what you want! I won't!"

Emma shot a horrified look at Gold. "But the portal. . . you said we had to close the portal! That we couldn't just leave it open to – "

Gold was paying absolutely no heed to her. All of his attention was transfixed on his estranged son, standing a few feet away with his back turned. "Bae," he begged. "Please. Give me a chance. I know I don't deserve it. One more chance. Just one."

"Just one, huh?" Neal finally turned around. "No magic? At all?"

"Wait," Emma interrupted desperately. "Gold, you can't back out on our deal now. We made it, remember? A deal. You – you wouldn't hurt Hook, and I'd help you use magic to close the portal. You said the entire town depended on it. You promised. You promised!"

Gold hesitated, then turned back to her. "So I did, Miss Swan," he said, with great precision. "So did you."

"Oh." Emma felt as if the bottom of her stomach was dropping out from her. "No, you are not. You are not using the fact that I – that I broke my earlier bargain with you to get out of this one."

"Am I not?" Gold smiled twistedly. "Contra you and your parents, dearie, I've only ever broken one deal, for one person. As a result of that, I lost him. If I have to break another to get him back. . . then that's what I intend to do."

"Let's think about this," Emma begged. She glanced to Neal, praying, for some absurd reason, for backup. "You're just going to let him do this? Break his word again? That's supposed to show you he's different now?"

Neal stood with his head cocked, silent. Then he fired at Gold, "Why does that pirate have Mama's name tattooed on his arm?"

Gold went even paler. "What?"

"I saw it a while ago. He showed it to me. I didn't recognize it or him, because I didn't remember. He said he knew how it felt to lose the woman you loved."

Gold's mouth opened and shut like a codfish.

"So why is that?" Neal demanded furiously. "Hook! I know him, you know. I met him in Neverland. I'm not going to say we were friends, because we weren't. He was the pirate captain and I was a Lost Boy, more lost than you could ever know. Every night seeing you letting go of me. Every night. And you told me that Mama was dead. You told me that the pirate killed her. Why does he have her name tattooed on his arm?"

"He's a pirate," Gold said weakly. "Should I know why?"

"Yes, I think you should. What happened to her? Is she dead? Is she still around somewhere, caged up in there – in the shop? Where?"

"She – she is dead, Bae," Gold whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Neal let out a sound that wasn't a laugh. "You still didn't answer the question. Still dodging. Still running. How did she die? Tell me! How did she die?"

"You killed her," Emma said to Gold, suddenly certain of it. Everything that Hook had said right before he got hit by the car, in the hospital where he'd explicitly stated that Gold had murdered his lover, the fact that she herself had seen that tattoo on the pirate's arm when they'd climbed the beanstalk, and she'd worked out that his hand wasn't the only thing he'd lost in his crocodile's attack. "You killed your own wife."

Gold looked as if she'd swung something heavy into his face. "I had no choice."

"No choice?" Emma repeated, dumbstruck. "That's what you're going with? Yeah, I can really see the family resemblance between you two. You're not very big on giving your women choices, are you? Couple of fucking white knights. I don't think I've ever been disgusted with one person as much as I am right now with both of you."

Neither Neal nor Gold answered her. It was impossible to tell if they'd even heard her.

"Now," Emma continued, "it actually doesn't matter if I think you're disgusting. This town, this place is in danger, you said so yourself, and despite everything, I want to stick to this deal." She stared Gold down. "I have plenty more I can tell your son. Like what happened last year, when Henry went under the sleeping curse. About when you sent me to retrieve the vial of true love from the dragon. Do you want me to tell him that?"

"What sleeping curse?" Neal said loudly.

"No – " Gold began, fast enough for Emma to knew that she had him. "I don't – "

"All right then. Then let's go fix that portal."

"You guys suit yourself." Neal shook his head. "I'm getting the hell out of here. And when you see me again, I promise it will be with my lawyer."

"I'll go with you, then." Gold's attention remained surgically welded to his son.

"What makes you think I have any interest in that?"

"You'll have to kill me to stop me from following you, Bae," Gold said simply.

For a moment it looked as if Neal was tempted, but he spun away again. "Yeah, that's a joke. There's only one thing that can kill you, Papa, and you've probably squirreled it away somewhere where no one will ever find it."

"We can go to it, if you like." Gold tried to move closer. "I'll show you where it is. I'll give it to you, Bae. You won't misuse it, I know you won't. Just keep it for me, keep it safe."

"I don't want that magic. I don't want that. . . thing that made you into who you are."

"Please, my boy." Gold's tears were falling freely by now. "Please."

The silence remained stretched, fraught, horrible. Then at last Neal let out an angry curse, threw up his hands, and turned around.

"All right," he said tightly. "You have your one chance. Let's go get the fucking dagger."

(8888888)

David and Mary Margaret weren't exactly certain where to find their missing grandson, but they had a hunch of where to start. And when they arrived downtown, their instincts were stronger than ever. They parked Leroy's truck and the three of them piled out, heading up the stairs to Archie Hopper's office.

They'd expected to hear voices, to discover that Henry had sought the psychiatrist's counsel and comfort, but the office was strangely silent – and strangely dark. Before they even opened the door, they knew that something was wrong.

David put a hand on his sword, and Mary Margaret strung her bow; it would be impractical in these close quarters, but she wasn't going in unarmed. Then when their repeated shouts went unanswered, Leroy unslung his axe and broke the door down.

The office was a mess. File cabinets had been overturned, papers strewn everywhere, chairs tipped and glass smashed. What was more, Archie himself was nowhere in evidence.

"Oh my. . ." Mary Margaret pressed a hand to her mouth. She turned to her husband, panicked. "Henry wasn't here when this happened, was he? He didn't. . ."

"I don't know." David stared grimly at the chaos. "But this didn't just happen on its own. After Regina's house was burned. . . didn't she take the apartment next door?"

Mary Margaret's face went as white as, well, snow. "Oh my God. She did."

"That. . . that witch!" Awaiting no further confirmation, Leroy wheeled around and barged back down the corridor, where they could hear him enthusiastically having at the apartment door. To prevent the property values plummeting even further, David and Mary Margaret galloped after him, just in time to find that he had already achieved entrance. And what they saw this time was, somehow, even worse.

"Oh no." Mary Margaret stared at the seared grooves in the back of the door, the unmistakable stain of magic reeking in their nostrils. "Oh no."

"Get Ruby." David was already turning, grabbing Leroy by the shirt collar. "There's got to be something of Henry's in here, stuff Regina brought over from the house. Get Ruby and maybe she can smell him."

The dwarf didn't need telling twice; he was already out the door, of which relatively little was left thanks to him. Mary Margaret was on her hands and knees, as if she herself could pick up an echo of Henry's presence. She couldn't, but luckily it was a world land speed record for how fast Leroy returned, a panting Ruby in tow.

"Here." David tossed the she-wolf a boy's argyle sweater. "This is Henry's. Can you get a scent out of it?"

Ruby took a deep whiff. "It's pretty old, but I'll do my best. Yes. . . he's been here recently, he. . . I thought he was at the hospital with you."

"Something happened," Mary Margaret said, trotting to keep up as Ruby hustled down the stairs, sweater pressed to her nose. "Don't ask us for any more details, we don't know them, but apparently. . . his father is here in Storybrooke."

"Henry's father?" Ruby took a break from her bloodhounding long enough to look shocked. "Didn't Emma say he was dead?"

"Well, she did tell me that that was a lie, and. . ." Mary Margaret's face had assumed a fierce, protective cast; she wasn't going to let anyone talk shit about her baby girl, especially behind her back. "It doesn't matter, but apparently there was a confrontation, Henry learned the truth, and. . . ran."

"Oh no." Ruby resumed sniffing. "We have to find him."

"Our thoughts exactly. Especially with Cora running around out there, and, I'm afraid to say, looks like Regina as well." David scowled. "Did anyone really think she'd changed? Her worry about not letting her mother come here lasted how long, ten minutes? Is that some kind of record, or do you think – "

"Charming, this is not the time!" Mary Margaret put on an extra burst of speed; Ruby had definitely caught a scent. They were hurrying through the streets, attracting stares from some of Storybrooke's early risers, and heading out toward. . .

. . . the harbor.

"There!" Leroy yelled, pointing. "There!"

David and Mary Margaret shouldered past Ruby, who gave them a slightly miffed look as if to ask if her contribution was going to go unnoticed, but broke into a run to catch up with the Charmings and their grandson, who was on hands and knees at the very edge of the dock and groping at thin air. David reached him first and grabbed him by the small shoulders, pulling him into a rough embrace. "Geez, kid! You scared the crap out of us!"

"I'm sorry, Gramps." Henry had the decency to look abashed. "But it has to be here. It has to be here somewhere!"

"Wha. . .?"

"The ship!" Henry insisted, wiggling loose from his grandfather's arms and darting back to the edge of the dock, dangerously close to falling in. "The invisible pirate ship, you were on it and you said that Captain Hook took you out here and then you had to jump off before it went over the town line, and it has to be here somewhere! I was at my mom's apartment and it's a big mess and Archie's office is too, something happened and it has to have been Cora, and she came over on the pirate ship, so I thought that if I could find – "

David and Mary Margaret stared at each other, then blinked, mildly stunned at this display of deductive reasoning even by their precocious grandson – especially since they themselves hadn't thought of it, preoccupied as they were with finding him and bringing him to safety. Mary Margaret turned to her husband. "You were the one out here with Emma. How did you get onto the ship that time?"

"The pirate – " David's fists clenched, in apparent anticipation of punching the bastard whenever he got hold of him again – "suggested that I take a flying leap, but I'm not going to be trying that in absence of direct evidence. There are no seagulls here, there's nothing funny with the waves – I don't think it's here right now. They've moved it."

"Well then," Henry insisted. "How do we find it?"

David looked completely stumped, but seemed to recognize that this was not appropriate for Prince Charming's response to the situation. He was just opening his mouth, apparently to try out some solution or other, when a massive shadow fell over them.

"Holy shit!" Leroy yelled. "Snow! Snow!"

Mary Margaret spun around, gaped, and then sprang into action, stringing her bow, snatching an arrow from her quiver, and getting off a shot, at too close range, at the monstrosity bulldozing in. It was a monkey, a monkey with wings, not a cute little zoo gibbon but at least the size of a full-grown mountain gorilla, with an ugly, twisted, leathery face and black wings twelve feet across, beating the air so hard that the draft knocked Leroy backwards. It reached out and swooped Henry up, as he wailed and kicked. "Gram! Gram! GRAM!"

"Don't move, Henry!" Mary Margaret screamed, slapping another arrow onto the string of her bow and loosing it; the shaft whistled inches past her grandson's left ear, hit the monkey's arm, and bounced off with a clang as if it had struck plate armor. The monkey was already gaining altitude; if it dropped Henry, it was going to be quite a fall. But David was sprinting after it, arms outstretched in anticipation of catching his grandson.

Mary Margaret put two arrows on her bow and shot again, this time at the monkey's vulnerable underside, but it adroitly dodged, with an unnerving intelligence far beyond your average simian. With this to confirm what she had already, horribly known, she almost missed her last chance to get off a volley, which spun harmlessly away and clattered to the dock. The monkey was rising above the treetops, the small, struggling figure of Henry still clutched against its chest. In moments, it was out of sight.

"No!" David roared uselessly. "No!"

"What in the – hell was that thing?" Ruby gasped. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"Flying monkey," Mary Margaret said tersely. "From Oz. I'm sure of it."

"But how would it have gotten here?"

"Who cares?!" David was already sprinting toward downtown. "Follow that monkey!"

(8888888)

Killian Jones was having a dream he was not sorry to be interrupted from when the door slammed, jolting him back into equally painful reality. He was still sprawled in the back of Regina's black automobile, drawing shallow, sore breaths that felt like burning wooden spikes in the ribs. He shifted, grimaced, and rasped, "I wasn't expecting the bloody queen of hearts, but at least one of you lovely ladies could – "

No answer. They weren't even paying attention to him, they had in fact just exited the automobile, which was parked at the end of some dirt pull-out in the woods. As he could see through the window, both Cora and Regina were standing in wait of – something, something large and dark and hideous that was just swooping through the trees, holding something in its arms. Something that looked remarkably like a small boy.

Oi gods, these bloody peasants. Killian groaned, swore out loud, and fumbled at the latch, managing to open it without extraordinary effort (well, everything was extraordinary effort right now, but bugger that). He staggered out of the automobile and stared at the special delivery, which looked to be some sort of. . . monkey?

"Henry!" Regina cried, rushing forward to scoop up whatever the monkey had just deposited at her feet, like an owl spitting up the bones of a mouse. "Henry!"

Henry? Killian stiffened. The tousled small boy, still looking shocked and angry, as well he might after being kidnapped by an airborne primate, was that. . . ?

"Mom!" the boy cried, pushing back from Regina as she tried to hug him again. "Are you crazy? What are you doing? That's – that's – "

"I'm your grandmamma, sweetheart." Cora moved forward, smiling. "I've wanted to meet you for so long. I'm sorry about the methods, but you're here with us now. We'll keep you safe. It's time you were reunited with your mother. Your real mother."

"You – " Henry backed away from the witch as if she had the plague. "No, no, no, I know who you are. Mom, how could you listen to her? She's trying to manipulate you and you're going to listen to it and then – "

"No, Henry, no," Regina pleaded. "We've made up. We're going to be a real family now, I told you, I promised no one would hurt you."

"You just had a flying monkey steal me!" Henry kept backing. "You're still using magic to hurt people, you haven't changed! Where's Archie? What happened at his office?"

"Archie's – safe. He's fine, I didn't hurt him, I swear!" Regina tried to catch the boy again. But as Henry's eyes were flicking around frantically in search of an ally, they landed on the pirate, standing by the car. His mouth fell open, and the expression on his face reminded Killian so strongly of the lad's mother that it hurt.

"Captain Hook!" Henry exclaimed, distracted and delighted enough by the novelty of meeting the feared pirate to forget about his fear for a moment. "It's you, isn't it?"

Killian coughed, hurting his ribs again. "Aye, lad. Not much of one at the moment." He held up his hookless stump; he hadn't been able to spare the time to find it before breaking out of the hospital, afraid that he would be caught. The broken handcuff was still dangling from his other wrist, more painfully than ever. "You must have heard of me too?"

"Yes. You're not in the book, but of course I know you." Henry cocked his head. "You look different than I was expecting."

"Oh? And what were you expecting?"

"More hair, I think." Henry looked critical. "And you had a red jacket."

"In what did I have a red jacket?" Bloody hell, how did the boy know about him? Had Emma mentioned him? He didn't recall owning a red jacket, though that red vest. . .

"In the movies, usually."

"What in damnation are movies?"

"Oh, right, you don't know." Henry looked guilty. "I'm sorry. Well, we'll watch them sometime and then you'll see who Hook is and he doesn't really look like you, but – "

"Henry, that's enough." Regina moved to take her son proprietarily in hand. "You don't need to be talking to him. We're back together, and there are just some things I need to do with your grandmother to make sure we stay safe. So – "

"She's not my grandmother."

"I'll think you'll find I am, sweetheart," Cora cooed. It couldn't have sounded more poisonous if she'd coated it in sugar and left it in an enchanted gingerbread house.

"No, you're not. Snow's my gram! You're evil and you want to hurt people and – "

Cora sighed, raised a hand, and waved it. A fine purple mist floated from her fingers and engulfed Henry's head. He swayed on the spot, then fell face-first into the leaves.

"Mother!" Regina gasped. "What did you – "

"Nothing to worry about, dear. Just a small spell to calm him down. We couldn't have him shouting, now could we? See, he's perfectly fine, only asleep. There's still so much magic I need to teach you. Now, we do still need to find the dagger."

Regina hesitated, then turned back to her mother. Cora smiled, reaching out to stroke her hair and pull her daughter into a tender embrace, and Killian watched as Regina's momentary flash of anger disappeared. But as the hellbitches hugged, he paused, shot a glance at Henry, then limped over to him, knelt, and held his hand over the lad's mouth.

A warm mist touched his skin, confirming that Henry was in fact alive; he hadn't put it past Cora to have done something far worse. He told himself that he was being a damn fool. Emma had made it plain that she wasn't going to have anything further to do with him, and if he grabbed Henry now and scarpered. . . well, it would throw a fine monkey wrench in the proceedings to say the least (although he was quite sure he had seen the literal definition of monkey wrench earlier). They'd all come after him. . . he'd dictate the terms. . .

"Well, sweetie?" Cora asked her daughter. "Where should we start looking?"

"Gold must have told someone," Regina said. "Only one person. And now, thanks to our friend there, she can't tell us even if we gave her a truth spell."

"Belle." Cora smiled. "Very impressive, dear."

Regina glowed at her mother's approval. "Thank you. Belle can't tell us, but I do know where Gold likes to hide things. Where he hid the true love potion. The library."

"Well then." Cora made an aristocratic gesture at the automobile. "Let's get going."

Killian hesitated one last time, glancing down at the boy in the leaves. Then with a grunt of pain, he slid his arms under the small, warm body, lifted him up against his chest, and silently carried Henry to the car.

(8888888)

"There," Gold said, pointing. "It's there."

Neal and Emma glanced at him, at each other, just as quickly away, and then at the unremarkable patch of ground Gold was indicating, which looked as if it had been dug up fairly recently. It didn't look like the most probable of places to conceal a magic weapon of awesome power, but then, he certainly wasn't going to be stupid enough to keep it in his shop and the townsfolk, for obvious reasons, were leery of going anywhere near the boundary line in the woods. Emma had been unable to repress the sensation, however, that they weren't alone, that the things Gold had mentioned coming from the netherworld were already very present. It felt like insects crawling up her spine. She would have given anything for her gun.

"Well, then," Neal mumbled, going to his knees and starting to paw gingerly at the dirt. "Guess let's see what we have here, huh?"

Gold and Emma watched him in tense, anticipative silence. Or rather, Gold was so consumed with watching him that a Tunguska event could have occurred at that very moment, and he wouldn't have turned a hair. Emma, however, was still nervous, and too on edge to devote the same sort of fire-starting concentration. She was looking around for any sign of the netherworld approaching, some sort of black mist or whatever, and –

She glanced up, and a wrenching shock lacerated her all the way to the backbone.

Standing in the forest on the far side, hand pressed to his chest, leaning against a tree for support – Hook. It was, it was him, and while he didn't appear to have seen them yet, it could only be a matter of moments until he did. She didn't know how he had followed them out here, but if Gold saw him – if Neal saw him, for Christ's sake – she didn't know if the deal was still valid or if –

Emma shot a surreptitious glance at the men. Neal was continuing to dig, and Gold remained completely intent on him. She took a step, and neither of them looked up. She took another, and they still didn't. She took a third, turned, and started to run.

She'd gotten good at making unobtrusive exits when she was in the life of chasing down perps on the run, and it was a skill that served her well now. She dodged through the clutching trees, put on a final burst, and reached him just as he staggered and started to fall.

She didn't tell herself to catch him, like a superhero catching the damsel as she swooned away in distress. It just happened.

He went tense as a harpstring, twisted around, saw her, and stared. "You."

"You!" Emma hissed. She helped him back to his feet, but he didn't let go of her, his hand closed around her arm as she steadied him. "What are you doing here? Are you insane?"

"I – I had to warn you. I had to find you." His chest heaved with a gasping, agonized breath. "Cora has your son. I don't know what she's going to do with him, but it can't be good. You – " He pulled her back, further into the trees. "What are you doing here?"

"Let go of me. If Gold sees you, he's going to break our deal and kill you, and I. . ." Emma was mortified to realize how close to tears she was. "You took a stupid, stupid risk. I can't believe you."

"Hey, lass." He grinned. "It's me."

Her lips trembled. She wanted nothing more than to rush forward and fling herself into his arms and hold onto him, to tell him that she was going to save him come hell or high water, that it wouldn't hurt this badly if there was anything she could do about it, but. . . no, no, no. She had to get him to go, not make him stay. "You have to get out of here. Gold and his – his son are right down there, they are literally a hundred feet away, and if they see you – "

"His. . . son?" The pirate stared at her. "Baelfire?"

"I – I guess so. It. . ." No, she couldn't tell him that it was Neal, not after their ugly confrontation in his hospital room. "They're looking for something, and they'll probably be distracted long enough if you just get out of here and – "

"Looking for something?" Hook turned back abruptly. The expression in his eyes had changed. Almost like it was a different person staring out, almost like. . . "The dagger?"

"I – don't know," Emma lied, suddenly discomfited, taking a step away. She couldn't tell him about this, she couldn't give him the means to kill Gold, and suffer the ungodly consequences. "You should – "

"It's all right, lass." He staggered toward her again, holding out his hand. "Come here. Come to me. It's all right."

Emma hesitated, shooting an agonized glance at the small figures of Gold and Neal, just visible through the trees. Neal seemed to have found something. "Promise me. Hook, please promise me that. . ."

"What, lass?" he murmured. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, drawing her closer, the warmth of him, the strength, the solidness – even after everything, all the brokenness, the pain – almost overwhelming. "Promise you what?"

"That you – " Emma began.

But she never finished the sentence.

Because then, as she was leaning into him, as she was letting him hold her despite every nerve in her body screaming at her otherwise – because she should have listened to her goddamn instincts – she saw the flash of metal, and felt the searing pain as the hook buried in her chest.

As she staggered, as she fell to her knees, as she felt the metal scraping into her heart, she stared up into his eyes, aghast and horrified, and realized –

It wasn't Hook.

It was Cora.