Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT.

Summary: Emma had never met someone as infuriating as the captain of the Jolly Roger in her 28 years of being a talented thief. When he requires her help to find a dagger to "skin" the Dark One as he likes to say, what she's really agreeing to is late night fights, breaking her walls, falling in love, oh, and winning the war with her parents she knew nothing about. Emma Swan doesn't know what she should be mad about. How about that coin purse he tried to steal that started this whole thing….

Warnings: This is AU. There is no Curse. Hook returns to the Enchanted Forest from Neverland when Emma is 28. Emma is still an orphan. Reasons being that I prefer her to have that lost boy/lost girl connection with Hook. Henry does exist and will be explained for as the story progresses.

A/N: WAAAAAAAAHHHH I'm SO SORRY! D: MY internet broke… had to wait for AT&T guy… he just fixed it today and then my wireless adapter broke too -_- Regardless… I'm back! :D with 2 weeks left of school then back to our original routine ^_^ For reasons that I will spoil this chapter, my real A/N is at the bottom! Longest chapter to date! Hope it makes up for the loss of two days! Had LOADS of fun writing this one i edited it for 2 weeks straight till I felt right about it :D Enjoy!

Hook slipped into his coat early in the morning, brushing away the dust and dirt it had picked up during his wrestle with the bar wench. The woman was allowed him to exploit her by his own rules, and exploit her he did until her throat was raw from screaming. He smirked and licked his teeth while he readjusted it. Hook felt refreshed and now able to return to handling Swan properly.

He paused in tying his laces and glanced at the woman on the disheveled bed over his shoulder. She was sound asleep, snoring a little. Her pale skin was painted in the morning light, exposing how covered she was in his dark markings. She shifted and pulled the covers closer to her body, a leg still dangling over the edge of the bed.

The entire time… he couldn't remove her from his mind. It was bloody frustrating, and so he took the woman as he would have loved to take Swan: rough and appreciative, with fire and passion. But the wench was too willing. He knew that Swan would fight him. She wouldn't be as eager as the bar wench. Oh, no. She would claw at him. She would defend her walls with turrets of hurtful words and taunts. She would push him away and if he didn't come back quickly enough he would lose his hold on her. Swan would want him to prove why she should give anything to him.

That was his reading of her. With sexual implications and without. It was safe to say that she needed plausible reasons to be a wanton woman. For all he knew, the woman had been celibate since her son's birth. It was debatable. It seemed as if no man had gotten close to her since Neal and Hook's charms were never turned down, until Swan, and it made her all the more desirable. A fight worth jumping into.

The whole night, Hook had to refrain himself from saying her name: Emma.

Emma.

Emma.

Every mark on the wench's throat and chest were the times he held himself back from whispering it as he thrust into her. Each scratch and purple bruise on her hips were the times he lost himself in his imagination of taking the swan princess. Her cries and moans were delicious, yes, but he really wanted to hear Swan's.

He clicked his hook back into place and left the room without another look.

After exiting the empty tavern, he squinted under the bright dawn sun. He inhaled the salty air and made way for his ship, where his crew was waiting for him. After several paces, Hook frowned as gleeful realization dawned on him, past the haze of the ale and beer last night.

Swan was there as well. Swan saw him take the bar wench to an unused room. Swan responded.

Hook's satisfied smirk started to crawl back up again.

Swan was trying so hard not to say or do anything. They sat as far away as possible from each other, but that did little to stop her from sneaking glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. He was always looking.

After their spat, after admitting to himself again that Swan was not his to control, for anyone to control, his hunger for her grew tenfold. Most men loved having control over their women, Hook preferred to have a long, good fight before they showed exactly what the other did to them. And one of these days… Swan would know. She would know how her confidence made him want her, how her fire made him want to play with her, how her vulnerability that she shared with no one, made him want to hold her.

By not touching him, she made him lose his bloody mind, and judging by her crumbling walls, he was doing the same to her. And the kiss they shared previously had all but almost collapsed both of them.

A man could only do so much under the heat of one woman's stare and the touch of another woman. Did that make him a lesser man? Perhaps. It was carnal, it was primal. He needed it.

Swan was right, he would take a woman to his bed with every chance he got. But seeing as how Swan would keep a healthy distance between them, they wandered the seas with the woman not warming his bed. It drove him mad, as he knew it drove the men of his ship mad. A companion who offered them nothing. Several times in the galley, Hook had to make it clear to all of them that Swan was his for the taking by words, a beating, or a threat with a blade at their throat. They were just words, however, he knew it would vast amounts of time—of wooing—to get Swan to want him, and that was exactly how he wanted it.

Unlike before, when he didn't care how a woman felt about him as long as she wanted him…

So similarly to how he had things with Milah…

He wanted Swan to want him.

—And unlike with Milah, it was pushing his gentleman qualities to the limit.

Very much like last night.

He had a mind to leave his seat and walk straight up to Swan at the other end of the table and capture her taunting lips again. Show her exactly what he dreamed of doing to her languid body. He had to restrain himself from strutting over to fondle with her breasts that were free from the torturous corset last night, and watch her grow embarrassed at becoming undone in the view of his crew as he played with her fire.

But he was a gentleman.

And he needed Swan to not run off on him.

So, yes, he took the bar wench, because if he didn't, with more beer in their blood, he would've had Swan begging for him as the night went on. Hook snorted. And when the sun rose, he might've found the bed empty, with her and her son run off when she came to and realized what happened.

Or… she might not.

Hook hummed and turned a corner—

—Almost running straight into a blade.

Hook inhaled. This won't do. He glanced down the sword to the gilded hilt being gripped loosely by a ring laden hand. The sword tilted upward, forcing his head to do the same. The possessor was hiding in the shadows.

"Well, my boy, I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

Hook's blood ran cold as rage roared within his ears. All the muscles in his face twitched rapidly to force his face into a dark sneer—he fought against it, not wanting to give a possibly pleasing knowledge to the man in the shadows that he could still get a rise out of him. He exhaled deeply and licked his lips. The voice was all too familiar within his oldest of nightmares.

"And I, you." Hook took a step back, glaring at the storm grey eyes that seemed to glow within the darkness. There was a sinister laughter within them that Hook couldn't replicate.

The sword followed him, the man stepped out of the shadows with an all too familiar, but mirthless, smirk on his face. Hook wanted to lunge as memories of his past and pain invaded him.

Hook felt like he was staring at a reflection that wanted him dead.

"Oh, come now, boy. Don't look at me like that. I haven't seen you in… well… years." The pirate followed Hook out into the light, his dreadful, dark blue garments that resembled troubled seas rustling in the light wind. He was tall, almost lanky underneath the garments, his long thick beard covered the lower half of his face, and his grey eyes were as cold as the heart Hook knew him to possess. It was a face he was never going to be ready to see. A face so similar to his that had taken him years to convince, whenever spotted in a reflection, was his own and not the man he despised.

"I had planned to keep it that way. What are you still doing alive?" Hook hissed between his teeth and clenched his fist.

The tip of the blade dug into the skin underneath his jaw, right at a pulse point, as the pirate leaned in closer.

"I've been playing this game a lot longer than you, lad. I knew I would see you again when rumors spread of your, ehm, escape to Neverland." He laughed, mocking Hook. "And I thought, 'there we are, a smart lad'. Finding the treasures of realms no one ever believed in, just as we planned all those many years ago, learning a way to stop our aging." He tipped his hat to Hook. "As late as I am, I must also say, Killian, I swelled with pride when you turned your back to the royals and became a vengeful pirate. At least one of my sons is following what he was destined for."

Hook grinded his teeth together. He would say no more. The fact that this man… his coward of a father, had found him and put him in a dangerous position, meant one thing: his ship was in jeopardy.

"Oh? Nothing to say?" his father circled him, keeping his blade pointed at him. "No questions as to how your father is still alive?"

"It matters not." Hook listened closely for any sudden moves. He kept his eyes on the slow moving shadows when he couldn't see his father, and when he would see those eyes he once loved as a child, he would watch them for any emotion. Any opening. But he was only fooling himself. His father was a pirate, through and through, a pirate who truly only thought of himself.

"It's quite a lovely tale," he chuckled as he stood in front of Hook again, staring him down with mocking eyes. "You used to love hearing my stories—"

"What do you want?" Hook growled, leaning forward and causing the blade to prick his skin.

"—I travelled across the lands of this realm and grew so terribly bored. I was getting old. And I wasn't done. I knew I wasn't. But alas, no more magic beans." His father licked his teeth and quirked a brow at him. "I made a deal with a sea witch. Follow the mermaids to an island so grand and full of lost treasures. Bring her back her stolen scepter, and keep whatever else I find. And within the caves of the island, I would find immortality. Funny that sea witches don't tell a simple sailor the whole story."

"You are not a simple sailor."

His father laughed and sharply pulled his blade down, bringing forth a shallow trail of blood on Hook's throat. He winced. "No, my boy, I'm not. I remained immortal, as long as I resided on that island, after having to drink from their fountains. But once I returned to this realm, it all vanished. But it's quite alright. Word in the sails was that a fearsome cutthroat—a Captain Hook had returned from his own grand adventure. Curious, considering he had departed over three hundred years ago. I thought to take a leaf from his book, regain my immortality, in a new realm. Imagine my surprise when I saw my son in the tavern, with a hook for a hand."

Hook wretched his blade free as his father brought his blade up to swing down. They locked, Hook holding his father's wrist while the latter held his brace, laughing as he kept his hook at bay.

"Still sore, my son? I can make you hurt in a lot more places that just that black heart of yours."

Hook grunted and kicked him back. Bad form. The villagers who had no business knowing what was happening started to peak from their windows at the sound of swords clashing. It was far too early for swordplay in the sleepy port, even with the Evil Queen being so close.

He brought his cutlass down, but his father brushed it off with a second, smaller blade, an evil laugh full of teeth protruding from his lips. Their blades clashed several times, sometimes shrieking against each other, each time growing louder than the last as Hook started to lose himself in rage.

Bad form.

His father spun and nicked his neck again when Hook overextended.

Very bad form.

Even if the white-hot anger gave him extra strength.

When their blades locked a second time, Hook pulled his father's foot from under him with his namesake, causing the older man to stumble back into a wall.

He tried to catch his breath while he backed away, sword pointed at his father whose lips drew back in a cheeky grin. Each breath he took was rattling his lungs painfully.

"I hear you're searching for revenge? On this, crocodile who took your hand? Who took your love?" His father straightened himself, his maelstrom eyes growing darker.

Hook bit his tongue. Say no more. Say no more. He shook his head and sheathed his sword, the adrenaline in his blood pumping so furiously that his vision started to turn red. His father took another step towards him. And another, and another. And Hook couldn't understand why he didn't just walk off. Leave. Take his ship. His men. His swan. And sail off at full speed to Port Royal.

His father stood toe to toe with him, the grin replaced with a sneer on his face.

"I'll tell you something, boy. Something I learned a long time ago." He raised his hand and ran his rough, calloused fingers across the old scar on Hook's cheek. "Love is weakness."

Hook's arm swung out, catching his father in his jaw. His father grunted and stumbled to his knee. A decent amount of pent up rage happily bled from his clenched fist and he felt lighter. Shady looking men, who he assumed was his father's, jumped from the shadows and caught their captain, while he laughed, the sound scratching the inner part of Hook's ears.

"Be glad that was my fist, and not my hook," he growled, turning heel and quickly leaving them.

"My boy! Killian!" He kept walking. "Your ship is mighty beautiful I must say. Enchanted wood?"

He walked faster.

"You and Henry, in my quarters. Now."

Emma struggled against Hook who had her arm in a vice grip as he dragged her onto the main deck. Several times she tried to dig her heels in the boards, but he would only need to yank her as if she was a rag doll to get her to wobble on her feet, forcing her to keep up with him unless she wanted to fall flat on her face. Henry was following closely behind with his eyes wide.

"Hook. Hook! Hook, what the hell is going on?"

The crew looked dangerous. Most had straightened out of their usual slumps as they fingered their weapons, watching the gangplank with keen eyes. Some of them leaned over the other side and the bow, watching other ships. There was one man in the crow's nest who was searching for something along the masts with his hand over his eye and his other on a flintlock. What was going on? Better question, who were they looking for?

Jameson hurried onto the deck from the gangplank, out of breath as he yelled at his captain.

"That's the last of the cargo, captain!"

"About bloody time, get this ship out of the docks. Now!" Hook continued to drag her and she felt her arm earning bruises.

"Alright that's enough!" Emma jumped a few steps until she was in front of Hook. Her arm was still in his grip but she now blocked his way. He growled and tried to continue. To stop him, she swung out her other arm, grabbing a rigging. His men were untying the sails and the ship was swaying frantically. "What is going on?"

"I don't have time to answer your questions, Swan." He took a step up forcing them to have their chests pressed against each other as Emma refused to move.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't!" He released her arm and crouched, digging his weight into her stomach.

Emma gasped and yelped as she found herself now thrown over his shoulder.

"Hook!" she slammed her fists into his back as he walked on, placing his hand over her legs to keep her from sliding off.

"Henry, open the door." He ordered. Henry gave her a shocked look before running to obey Hook's order.

They all slipped into the room just as Emma felt the ship move away from the docks. He thrust his foot behind him, closing the door with a heavy 'boom'. Emma threw one last punch at his back before she was tossed onto his bed. She yelped again and tried to sit up to show him she wasn't going down without a fight until found herself cornered beneath him. Both his arms encased her and his knees were on either side of hers, one closer to the edge to balance himself on the ball of the foot, forcing her to dig herself farther into the bed as her skin crawled uncomfortably. He was close… much too close. She watched him. Watched those clear blue eyes become a raging storm.

It made no sense. Although she didn't like it at all (and she would never admit that to him), he had a woman for the night. A good time. He must have, for he never came back with them last night. But with the way he stormed into their cabins and walked with his back as straight as it could possibly go, he looked so furious. Why were they leaving so quickly? Why was he so keen on having them in his quarters? Oh god they were found weren't they…

"What is it? Regina?"

"No, not the queen."

"Then what is it? Was the barmaid you took a royal in disguise?" she almost shook her head, sarcasm rolling off her tongue with ease.

"Emma."

She froze as her name tumbled out of his lips. He grabbed her chin and held it, boring his eyes into hers. "I'll answer you at another time. Right now, I need you and Henry to stay in here. Don't open the door unless it's me. Understood?"

It was strangely intimate. Having him hover above her, saying her given name, staring at her so intently that she shivered, wondering if he was a passionate lover last night, or a rough and hungry one as his crew boasted. It was such an odd thought that she couldn't stop the creeping blush as she nodded.

A small grin broke out onto his serious face. "If I wasn't in such a rush, I'd inquire you about that blush of yours." He stood, giving her a chance to breathe air that didn't taste like him. "Henry, what did I say?"

"Don't open the door unless it's you," he quipped.

"Too right. If anything," Hook reached into a cabinet and tossed Henry a sword. "Remember what I taught you."

Henry barely had a chance to nod as Hook turned and shut his door. She heard the lock turn and the tumblers fall. Emma finally leaned up and stared at the door while Henry rushed past her to press his face against the window.

"What do you think is happening?"

"I don't know kid." And she didn't like not knowing. She slipped her hand into her boot and frowned. Where on earth did her lock picks go? She felt her other boot and growled. Hook. Damn him.

Emma jumped onto her feet and made her way to the same cabinet Hook pulled Henry's sword out. When she opened the door, the ship shook with a loud 'BANG'.

She grabbed a nearby post to steady herself and looked over her shoulder at Henry who slipped off the window sill and landed on the floor. There was a loud groan and sharp creaking, like wood pressing and grating against another piece of wood. She felt the ship dip to the right and had a sinking feeling in her gut.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, what was that? More mermaids?"

There weren't any more hits to the ship, so she crossed out her son's theory.

"No, I don't think so, it felt heavier." She ran back to the windows and pushed them open. Emma leaned out, looking to her right. She spotted another bowsprit far too close to the ship. "I think someone crashed into us…"

Then they heard it. The battle cries and the ringing sounds swords being pulled from their scabbards. Emma looked up, spotting men swinging from the ropes of the other ship onto theirs.

"Another pirate ship?" Henry asked, trying to look as well. At the sight of the invading men, she understood Hook's motives. She crouched and grabbed her son by the shoulders.

"Henry, do you know Hook's quarter's well?" He nodded. "Good. Hide somewhere."

"No, I want to help."

"Henry," she hissed and jerked her head towards the door when she heard something heavy fall onto it. "Henry. Listen to me. Hook and I need to help us by staying safe. If you run out there, one of us might get run through worrying about your well-being."

"But Hook's been training me!"

"I know! I know but this isn't training right now. This is real life. These are trained killers. I need you to hide. Please!"

Henry's face grew red, upset that once again, he couldn't help. But he nodded anyway and ran to the other side of the room where the other door was. He gave her one last look and whispered, "Be careful…" then closed the door. She heard scraping behind it, hoping that he was barring the door.

Emma ran back to the cabinet as there was more banging on the door opposite of Henry. It sounded like someone was getting shoved into it rather than someone trying to break in. She pulled out a cutlass and a few throwing knives and attached them to her body. She glanced at the door, thinking to pick her way out, but when it boomed again with a pained yell behind it, she opted for the windows.

After grabbing a ledge to pull herself out, she carefully shimmied her way up, using the many angles and edges to hoist herself up. Not long after she made it out, she yelped and pressed her body to the carvings on the ship as a body, yelling, was tossed over and dropped past her. She looked down, watching the man sputter up and swim to the other ship.

God, who did Hook piss off this time? She turned to the other ship and spotted red sails and felt her blood chill—someone wanted them dead.

When she reached the railing, she heard a gruff voice yell out, "GENTS! Allow me the pleasure of fighting the captain of this ship!"

Emma hoisted herself over and gaped at the new scuff marks and blood that littered the boards of the deck. There were no bodies, yet. She crouched low nonetheless, using the helm and rigging to hide herself. She peered through the bars and watched as Hook and another pirate circled one another. There were a few sharp, teasing thrusts in the air between them as they waited for the other to launch a proper attack.

Emma looked around. No one was severely hurt, just a few cuts here and there, but they all watched as their captains danced. She leaned forward a bit and held her breathe as the older man jumped forth, catching Hook's arm. The crowd jeered.

Hook grinned, licking his bottom lip like a hungry, wild animal.

"That's it?"

"Not at all, my boy." He lunged again. Hook spun, the length of his coat confusing the other man as he slashed down, catching the man in his calf.

When the man turned back, slowly, Emma's brow furrowed. Their grins were eerily identical.

"All of this could be avoided, Killian. Just hand me the ship and I'll be on my merry way."

"You obviously don't know a thing about me. So let me clue you in: I'll never give up the Jolly Roger without a fight." Hook lunged this time. Their swords screeched over the yelling of their on-lookers.

Emma watched as they parried, blocked, and thrust against one another. She watched as Hook looked to be exactly where he belong. Fighting, surviving, and not carrying a woman and her son to their new home. There was a spark in his eye that had been absent the entire time she had been on the ship. But there was something else. Something much darker in contrast to the light.

The other pirate cheated. He kicked a rope on the floor towards Hook, entangling his feet. At the stumble, the pirate slashed at the hilt in Hook's hand, causing it to go flying off. He swung down again, while Hook swung his left arm up, catching the blade with his hook. He grunted as the pirate pushed him back against the railing, threatening to either shove him over board or cut straight through him.

"Useful weapon, that is." He said to their captain, nodding at his silver appendage.

"Really? Perhaps I should give you one—as a parting gift."

Emma continued to watch, praying, hoping, Hook had something under his sleeve.

She knew enough about fighting between two opposing groups to know that when the leaders fought, no one could jump in. It was one of the few honorable things about shady men. She remembered the countless times Roland had to hold her back from jumping in to help his father. It was not her fight. Just as this was a battle she couldn't interfere in.

But… this was Hook. And he looked to be struggling, maybe if she just threw a knife…

With everyone so engrossed with the swordplay, she never expected someone to grab her by her hair. She yelled in pain as she was dragged from the banister, closer to the helm.

"Well, well, well. Seems old Davey Jones' son gathered himself a new companion." Emma looked up, clawing at the hand that held her hair tight.

He was a slimy looking man. Dirty beyond words with matted hair, broken black and yellow teeth, and a battered, swirling eye. He yanked her again, away from the crowd that was jeering too loudly for them to hear her cries of pain. He tried to lift her up to her feet but she used her weight to purposely stay close to the ground. It would do no good to have them all know a woman was aboard the Jolly Roger.

"Your captain has good tastes! Mighty pretty face you've got."

"Yeah?" she huffed and smirked at him even though her scalp was screaming at her. "Too bad yours isn't." She pulled one of the throwing knives from her belt and slammed the knife into his foot.

She had her moment of smugness as the pirate yelled, until he started howling louder than what was based on the amount of pain she should've inflicted. Emma gasped as something warm and wet rained over her, practically drenching her hair. It was thick, like milk but smelled an awful lot like copper. There was a thud right next to her and she nearly fell apart when she saw what it was: a disembodied arm, still gripping her hair.

Black boots stomped into her vision. The pressed against the lifeless arm, forcing the hand to bleed profusely and release her before kicking it away. Blood continued to rush from it and left behind a thick trail as it skidded away. The man was still howling as others unfamiliar to her grabbed for him and pulled him away from the scene. Emma grabbed her hair, partially soaked in—what she now realized to be—the blood that rained over her. She held her red hands to her face, feeling bile rise in her throat, as someone else grabbed her by the back of her shirt, yanking her to her feet. Forgetting her wooziness, she yelled and reached for her sword until she saw the blue eyes of her captain.

"Hook…"

"Foolish woman. You should've listened to me." He pushed her behind him and held his blade out to the other captain who now sported a cut along his face.

"What's this, Killian? A new lover?"

"Hardly, she's the last key to my revenge."

The pirate, Davey Jones was his name if what the man who had his hands on her said was true, made a comical face, his mouth forming an 'o'. But it wasn't very funny to Emma when the man was threatening their life and had blood running down his face.

"Using a woman to avenge another woman? The devil must be laughing at your tactics boy."

"Why don't you go and confirm that for me since I'm sending you in that direction anyway." Hook lunged, catching the pirate's sword with his and then slashing across Jones' chest with his hook. The pirated yelled and kicked at Hook, forcing him back to Emma.

He held onto a rigging, breathing haphazardly, and Hook smirked. "Thanks, old man."

Hook slashed at a rope and a pulley swung down from the left. It caught Jones across the face, forcing him to the ground. Hook quickened his strides and kicked the sword away from the pirate who laughed, gripping his bloody chest.

Hook pressed his blade to the unwounded part of the man's torso as the crowd of pirates grew silent. Emma's own heart was lodged in her throat. She stepped close to Hook, watching a maddening look spread over his face. She couldn't fight the dreadful feeling that he was going to kill this man.

"Go ahead boy. My time is up anyway. I just wanted to be sure that you could carry on the Jones' legacy. Even Liam would be proud."

Hook leaned down and slammed his hook across Davey Jones' face. "You are not allowed to speak his name so casually."

"Why the hell not? He's my son just as much as you are. Shame he died. I would have loved to see you two roaming the seas together. Bringing freight to those who dare to tread across my depths." The man spat out the blood in his mouth and smiled.

"Liam would never."

"Ah… but you would… you are my perfect son." Jones' eyes darted to her and she fought the shiver that came from being under his gaze. He smirked. The same smirk Hook gave her when he had something planned in his mind. "Almost, anyway. Your infatuation with these women will be the death of you."

"As you said, time is up, old man." He pulled back his arm to end the life of the pirate, his father, in front of him. Her hands jumped to her face as a useless scream lodged itself in her throat.

"Killian!"

Jameson threw himself forward and grabbed Hook by his sword arm, holding it back. They struggled, Hook's rage having the upper hand. She exhaled a little bit of her anxiety.

"Release me, Jameson." Hook growled, keeping his eyes on his father whose grin only widened.

"Liam. Think of Liam! What would he have you do?" Jameson's face tried to be the main object in Hook's vision by being very close to their captain's. He was covered in sweat, his eyes were stern but anxious, and his teeth were bared as he tried to hold his captain off. He grunted through it, almost losing the battle with Hook's rage that was slowly inching forward with each second. Davy Jones watched it all with gleeful eyes. It was almost like he was begging his son to further blacken his heart by killing his kin. It wasn't death he was looking for, from what Emma could see in his eyes, it was to see if Hook was worthy—and that clenched her heart so tight she felt that she would collapse.

"Killian! Stop! Liam would not approve. Not like this!"

Hook inhaled.

It was completely silent, except for the occasional moan from the man Hook maimed. Emma could see him struggling. Struggling against Jameson, struggling against himself, against his memory of this Liam, who must have been his brother. She edged closer, ready to help Jameson if needed.

After what seemed like years Hook released the breath he was holding and yanked his arm away from Jameson. He glared at his mate who planted his feet firmly on the ground with his hands raised, keeping an eye on the fallen captain and his captain's sword.

Hook's nose scrunched in anger, but thankfully, he ended up only pointing his sword once more at his father.

"I want you off my ship. Away from my sails, away from me. Like you had been since I was a boy. Next time I see you take warning shots across my bow, I'll lock Jameson up so that I can kill you."

Jones chortled, leaning up on his elbows as she watched his son with laughing eyes. "I welcome the challenge."

His men ran to his side, helping him up as Hook walked away, sheathing his sword. He walked past Emma, refusing to look at her. But she caught the waver in his eyes that betrayed him. Emma reached and gripped the edge of his coat before he left her. He looked at her, this time, from the corner of his eye.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered. She didn't feel guilty that she ran up to help. What did he expect her to do? Did he really expect her to stay back and listen to the fights while her nerves wrecked her body? No. As pissed as she was with him that wasn't how she did things. That wasn't how she appreciated help no matter how much they taunted her. Nonetheless, she understood. This was his world, where he knew what to expect. She should've listened to him.

He leaned in close and searched her blood stained face. Emma gulped, feeling fire brush against her cheeks. He pushed aside a clumped lock and tucked it behind her ear. She expected him to stop there as they were being watched by his crew and another, but instead, he let his fingers race along her jaw to her chin. He tilted her face up so their eyes met fully. Blue to green. Sea to forest.

"You should be."

His face was cold as stone but his eyes told a different story. He was worried for her.

Emma let a small smile grace her lips and his eyes darted to her mouth to watch it come to life.

"Killian. You really should listen to your father."

Hook looked over her and his face contorted to fear.

Something foreign broke through her skin.

Emma screamed, feeling a blade dig itself into her side. White hot pain seared through her and bright lights flashed before her eyes. She tried reaching behind for the blade that invaded her body and whimpered as pain jolted through her whole frame in powerful waves, clenching her muscles and rendering them useless. It didn't split through the other side, just puncturing deep enough that it bloody hurt. She felt her lungs rattle painfully with every gasp of air she took and feared the blade had pierced through her right one. The blade was removed with a sharp downward pull and the wind added salt to the gaping flesh.

Chaos resumed.

She heard battle cries, splashes, more swords, and a cold laugh that did nothing for the hot pain in her body.

She fell forward, clutching her side. She clenched her teeth together tight as Hook caught her, pulling her close to his body while he yelled at his crew to chase after the men. They slowly sank to the floor, both of them groping for each other, both of them shaking for their own reasons. Hook used a knee to cradle her head and applied pressure to her wound to stanch the bleeding. She wanted to punch him because it only increased her agony.

"No! Killian, forget him. Forget your father. We need all hands on deck, Miss Swan—"

Hook realigned them, so she was now cradled in the crook of his arm, moving her hair from her wet face and smearing a new bloody trail. He was as pale as a ghost. His blue eyes were frantic and he cupped her face, forcing her to watch him with a blurry vision.

"Swan! Swan! Hang on!"

She gripped the lapels of his coat to tell him to calm down, the action costing her. Emma cried out and arched at the pain that refused to allow her any movement. She had never experienced anything like this. Was this what torture felt like? Was this was Robin, Hook, and they're men went through on more than one occasion. Panting, her eyes darted to his namesake, and she groaned. Was she going to lose something too?

"Captain—"

She shoved her face in his shoulder to muffle her screams of agony, slamming her fist into his other shoulder as he hooked his other arm underneath her and lifted her up. God it hurt!

STOP!

"Get out of the way! Jameson! My quarters. Smee, get us out of here! Full speed to Port Royal!"

"Cap'n! I don't—"

"Forget the enchantment! Get! Us! MOVING!"

Emma let her tears of pain fall and bit her lip as she hung on tight to the captain. "You couldn't carry me like this earlier?" although she tried to make the situation lighter than it really was her voice quivered.

His hand around her shoulder gripped her tighter. "This is no time for you to jest Swan—bloody hell open the damned door!"

She heard a crash and they were moving with haste again. She heard one door open just as another closed.

"Hook—"

"Shit. Jameson, get Henry out of here."

"Come along son—"

"What happened to my mom!"

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with, lad."

"She's bleeding!"

"I'm fully aware of that, Henry."

"Mom! MOM!" His cries became muffled as a door shut upon them.

Everyone was being so noisy. She felt feverish. She was probably just sick. That's right. She was imagining things. She wasn't on a pirate ship. Just a silly dream. She just finished a raid right? Oh, Robin was going to have a fit with her. First the arrow now this? Where did it come from again?

"Swan…"

She felt the softness of a bed and whimpered when her side moved again. Pressure removed itself from the wound and she felt her life source bleed out. Her arm swung out in panic but was pushed aside by cool metal.

"Emma."

Her name… His hand touched her face, wiping away the blood, sweat and tears with the pad of his thumb. He was hot against her skin. Too hot.

Go away….

"Why is it so hot…"

"She's delirious, captain."

"Find me a needle, thread, some cloth, and fresh rum."

Emma stiffened at the word 'rum' and gripped his arm, the tears falling out of her eyes again. "No…please…" She'll be good this time… just stop it all…Where in god's name was she…

"Emma, listen to me." She moaned and her head rolled back. "Emma, Emma. Love. Don't let go. Don't you dare let go."

Captain…Pirates… There was one…

"Hook…" She tried looking at him but he was all a blur. The only thing that made it through the haze was the clear blue eyes.

"Shh. Save your strength. Don't talk."

She heard a cork pop and felt liquid run down her side not long after.

Everything went black.

A/N: So, my bubble was busted at the 'Jolly Roger' episode… I was with the many hopefuls that wished Blackbeard was Killian's father but! It's ok. It's my story and I can still play with it how I please. Davey Jones is still in the air (How can you give Killian a surname such as JONES and not lead to that? Oooh… what if he was Davy Jones? Like how Rumple is also beast? O_O) Not to mention I had everything planned out so I need to remain with what is happening. Please Review :D