Hook stumbled his way through the forest trees as the first light of day began to break among them, scattered here and there by the trunks from where it shone in the east over the water. The evening had not just been physically tiring, although it most certainly was that too. But he found it was something else that exhausted him. A feeling he hadn't known in hundreds of years. Some kind of emotional experience that was draining him of energy. He needed time alone, and he needed to be on his ship.

Things always made much more sense to him with the soothing rocking of waves and the hollow sound of a wood floating on water beneath his feet. As he climbed his way to the edge of the forest, he saw his vessel docked in the sparkling morning water down in the cove, and smile. It always felt nice to come home.

But as soon as he stepped one boot on the deck, he knew something was wrong. He could just sense it. Someone had been on board his ship, an unwanted visitor. He froze, peering around with eyes but hesitant to move a muscle. He'd left the giant's cage shut, but it was ajar. He'd left that rigging line coiled, but one end of it now hung limp and loose. He surveyed the deck, but it was empty. The culprit may have already left, but some pirate instinct in him told him that he, or she, was still on board. He crept carefully towards the door leading below deck. He pushed it open slowly, readying his hook, the inside was dark. He stepped tentatively through the threshold and, using the light from the outside to guide his way.

Then very suddenly, the light was snuffed out as someone closed the door behind him. Before he could wheel fully around and see who had done it, he felt something hard hit the back of his head forcefully, and his world blackened as his knees gave way.

With slow striding steps, King George came forward from where he had watched in the shadows down the hallway. He surveyed the unconscious Hook, then gave his soldier who had dealt the blow an approving nod.

"Get him to the brig and prepare for the others to come. It's only a matter of time," he said ominously. "If all goes to plan, Emma should be here shortly, and in no condition to resist us."

The soldier nodded his understanding and began to move the body below him.

Emma could not hide a smile as she watched her son daintily and distractedly placing leaves from beside him in some kind of swirling pattern on the surface of the water and watching them float about. When she actually let herself feel it, she was mesmerized by her son all the time. How he could be so brave and strong, and so sensitive and innocent at the same time. It seemed like a miracle.

"Maybe at some point I can see where you live?" Henry suggested tentatively, sheepishly not looking his mother in the eye. She looked down at him, slightly amused, slightly sad.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she said, turning back to the water in the pool. She had returned late in the night to where he father had been taking his watch, his face glowing in the fire. His eyes shown in concern and relief as he tried to hide the obvious thought inappropriate paternal emotions coursing through him. She was an adult and could do what she liked, but at the same time, as she saw his relief, she felt a bit bad. She of all people knew what it was like to worry about your child, and to feel shunned by them as well. She shouldn't have kept him waiting.

In an attempt to express her apology, which she couldn't seem to just say outright, she came and sat next to him in silence, placing her head gingerly on his shoulder.

"I'll apologize to Mary Margaret in the morning," she said finally. The only response Charming had given was to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. Then, the pair sat in a comfortable silence until Emma had dozed off against her father's shoulder.

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" Henry looked up at her with wide, curious, and slightly disappointed eyes. She melted and nearly gave in. She swallowed hard and thought for a moment.

"Let's just say that my friends and I aren't exactly supposed to be here, so it's better that people don't know where we are."

"I wouldn't tell anyone," Henry insisted enthusiastically. "I'm good at keeping secrets."

"I know you are," she smiled, "but it wouldn't really be fair to you to ask you to keep my secret. Or safe. You might get in trouble with your mother."

"Why aren't you supposed to be here?"

"You ask too many questions, kid," Emma chuckled.

"I'm a curious person," Henry shrugged, taking the comment as a compliment.

"Yes," Emma said, leaning back and looking her son up and down, smiling a bit. "You are, aren't you?"

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath them. Instinctively, Emma reached out to grasp her son. They both froze in the wake of the movement, eyes locked in shock.

"What was that?" Henry asked, but before Emma could answer, they felt another jolt, and her suspicions were confirmed.

"Ogres," she whispered, standing unsteadily and pulling Henry up with her. "You have to get home. Get back to the castle immediately."

Emma pulled Henry along towards where he usually came from each evening. They hadn't taken more than a few steps when they heard the cracking of falling trees that meant the ogre was close by. Then, a few more paces and the behemoth stepped out right in front of them, blocking their path and knocking Henry to the ground from the shudder the ground gave with the impact of his large foot.

Emma hadn't thought it possible that anything could be uglier than the last ogre she had encountered, but this one seemed to be. Or maybe she was biased because this ogre was reaching for her son as Henry attempted to right himself. Instinctively, Emma threw herself in front of him as a large hand swung violently down. She shoved him out of the way as the hand struck her back and felled her to the forest floor.

"Run, Henry," grunted, and at first Henry did. He turned and fled as fast as he could. But thirty paces away, he looked back and saw his mother had not followed. The ogre had her cornered with back against a tree. A panic flared inside him. He wasn't sure exactly where it came from.

"Emma!"

The ogre turned his head as if to follow the sound of the young child's voice, and Emma panicked.

"Hey!" she called in a loud voice, the ogre turning his attention back to her. "Over here, don't look at him, look at me!"

"Emma!" Henry called again. He took a few steps towards her.

"Keep running, kid! Don't look back!"

Henry was so confused as he watched the ogre bear down on this woman, whose abnegation had given him a chance to run. Why would she do that? And why did he get the feeling that she'd done that before. Why, all of a sudden, did that blonde hair ring a bell…?

"Mom!"

For a brief abeyance, the world seemed to freeze. Emma's jaw dropped as she turned to look her son in the eye and finally, finally, saw recognition there. She breathed an almost-thankful sigh of relief.

Then, the ogre's massive hand wrapped around her tightly and wrenched her from the ground. She felt it squeeze her insides until she thought she might burst like a balloon. A few seconds later, she felt her back slam up against the rough bark of a tall tree. As she opened her eyes and found herself on eye-level with the beast holding her, though he could not see her. His blind eyes darted to and fro as he sniffed and a whiff of his acrid breath wafted over her.

On the ground, Henry had run forward, heart flooded with panic as he saw the woman he now remembered as his true mother hoisted into the air and pinned against a tree. But before he could take more than a few steps, someone's arm was thrust in his path, restraining him from getting any closer.

"Stay back, Henry," he heard a gruff voice say.

"Mom!" Henry screeched again, trying to push past the man's hold on him, warm tears flooding his eyes.

"Get him out of here, Neal!" Emma called in a pained holler from her perch. The ogre squeezed still tighter, causing her to cringe as he stepped even closer to his pray.

While Neal continued to drag Henry further back from the violence, the rest of the party that had rushed with him closed in on the ogre.

"Emma!" Charming yelled, running straight for the base of the tree. The ogre shifted at the sound, looking around while clenching his fist still tighter. Emma let out a cry of pain, involuntarily reaching down and grasping the ogre's hand where he held her. Snow released a wayward arrow at the face of the monster, but in his shuffling it missed it's target and flew into the woods.

"Get him to look this way!" Snow begged someone in a high-pitched voice.

"Get away from her!" Charming called desperately, now nearly under the beast's large, stomping feet. Emma attempted to warn him to stand back but she found she couldn't even inhale enough breath to speak.

"Hey, witless!" Red snarled in a loud, booming voice. "Over here!"

It was enough to get the ogre to look directly at him for a moment long enough for Snow to take her aim. The second arrow met its mark, piercing the monster's eye. Even before he toppled over, Emma felt his grasp on her midriff loosen. His balance vacillated for a moment and he stood, careening, before he fell entirely, taking his hand with him, and Emma, released from his grasp, dropped the long distance to the ground, where she landed with a sickening crunch.

Up Next: As Emma reunites with her son, Snow and Charming ready the party to return home in order to get their wounded daughter the medical attention she needs. But with Hook locked up and unconscious, it is only trouble that awaits them on board the Jolly Roger.