Author's note: While the estimated time setting of these events is sometime late in season 2, there a few fudged moments of chronology. This chapter and the preceding one fall in this category: Hook is wrestling with his brother's death in full; however, in the show, this won't happen until they're in Neverland.

Hook watched Emma wipe the tender moment's evidence from her face. It didn't do much. Her face would be stained with red splotches for a while.

Lands, she was beautiful. He could still feel the phantom touch of her arms around him. As far as he was concerned, it could linger as long as it liked.

When Emma opened the door, Hook saw the visitor and lurched. Crocodile. The chair beneath him honked in his haste to stand. What is he doing here?

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan." Gold—that was his name, here—said. A reaction resembling surprise settled across his face when Hook joined them. "He's still here. Are you all right? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm fine." Emma slid her hands in her back pockets. "We were just talking."

Hook slipped an arm around her waist. He pulled her close, trading stares with the man. Try to touch her, Crocodile. Just try it.

Gold frowned. "Talking?"

"Yep." Emma's tone said he wasn't getting more information. She waited. "Did you need something in particular?"

"I just thought I'd check on you." He glanced at Hook. "He was rather drunk when I left. I was . . . concerned for your safety."

Hook tried not to flinch. Hard to do when his own voice whispered inside his head. "I take what I want." His shoulders twitched. Don't. Not now. He was angry—he would not relive the morning again, not in front of the this man. Instead, he demanded aloud, "Why not kill me when you had the chance?"

Gold's fingers flexed around the knob of his cane. A nervous tic. "Because I'm trying to do better by Belle, pirate."

"But why bring me here, if you thought me a danger?"

And there.

There smiled the crocodile's teeth.

In that moment, Hook knew: He may bear a different name, wear different clothes, even speak behind a different face, but the same heart still beat in the crocodile's body.

Milah's murderer, standing feet away from Emma in her own home. How had he let it come to this?

Failed, the voice whispered in his head again.

Hook twitched. He refocused on the present; Rumpelstiltskin was speaking to him.

"I'm sure your behavior has proven your true character to Miss Swan."

Hook saw Emma against a wall, his feet pressed against hers as his arm crossed against her throat. "Are you sure you can handle the consequences of playing rough?"

He looked away. He passed his tongue over his bottom lip, realizing only too late that his tell had surely given him away. One look back confirmed his fears.

The crocodile smiled in full. "I see I was not wrong. Perhaps now that you've seen the kind of man he is, Miss Swan, you'll understand this is not someone you want in your life."

"What's the matter, savior? Can't you save me?"

"Is this about Neal?" Emma's sharp voice brought Hook back. She wore her exasperated face. It was an expression he was familiar with. "Gold, c'mon on. Please tell me this is not about Neal."

The dark one shrugged. "I said nothing about Baelfire."

Emma moved away from Hook's arm before he could stop her and got in Rumpelstiltskin's face. "What did you do to him?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Tell me what you did to him."

Another smile. "You don't have to force a lion to act like a lion, dearie."

"Cut the crap. You brought him here as an angry drunk time-bomb, and now you're back to see the result. Is that it?"

Hook finally understood. His stomach rolled. That demon. There's no telling what . . .

Stop it. Not here. Not now. Hook approached, his voice only a whisper. "You brought me here to hurt Emma?"

Rumpelstiltskin's voice raised. He pointed a finger at them. "I brought you here because you were an angry, drunk despot wandering the streets. She's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

Hook grabbed him with his good hand and held him against the side of the house. He hovered his hook in the man's face. "Do you have any idea," Hook seethed, "what I might have done to her?"

"Oh," Rumpelstiltskin sneered, "I do."

Hook shouted a foul name and hurled him to the grass. "I'll kill you for this."

"Hey!" Emma grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Chill. We talked about this."

Hook searched her eyes for the understanding to see it his way. "He wanted me to hurt you."

"Relax," Emma said, "I am the sheriff. I can handle this."

Rumpelstiltskin was chuckling from the ground. Emma put a hand on Hook's chest. He challenged her with his eyes for a moment, but at last he stepped behind her.

He sighed. She wasn't just the savior here, he told himself. Or his Swan, for that matter. She was also the sheriff.

Lands, he hated that.

Emma turned to the crocodile with folded arms. "Do you doubt that he would like to hurt you?"

"Dearie," Rumpelstiltskin pushed himself to his feet. He brushed grass off his suit. "That's been his state of mind for centuries."

Hook grunted, but Emma pressed on.

"Tell me what you did."

"I don't know what you mean."

Emma clenched her teeth. "Explain to me what you did to Hook before he stops listening to me and assaults you."

"Pretty experienced at that, is he?"

Hook roared. He lunged at Rumpelstiltskin with his hook. Emma had to grab him by the waist and swing him around. Hook's momentum carried him into the front door.

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. "A little unhinged, isn't he?"

Emma got in his face. "What did you do?"

"All right. You want to know?" His gaze flicked over her shoulder, and locked eyes with Hook, who was glowering in the doorway. "I saw him in the bar. He looked prepared to be there for a while. I slipped something into his drink when he turned around—looking at some women."

Hook glanced away.

"What did you put in his drink?" Emma said.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. "Just a potion. To help him fully feel those nasty emotions he carries inside him. And perhaps," Rumpelstiltskin bowed his head with a smirk, "to also stir up . . . amorous inclinations."

Hook didn't remember slipping around Emma. He didn't remember folding his fingers or pulling back his hand. All he remembered is the feeling of his fist in the crocodile's face.

Rumpelstiltskin doubled over as the pain throbbed in Hook's hand.

It was worth it.

"I will not let you hurt her," Hook hissed in the dark one's ear.

Emma pulled him away. She chided him—he didn't hear the words—and helped Rumpelstiltskin stand. The crocodile shrugged her away, wiping the blood from his mouth with his handkerchief. He left soon after that, more words between him and Emma, words Hook didn't hear.

He and the crocodile glared at each other all the time through.

Thus departed, Hook let his eyes fall to Emma, who stood before him with more words of chastisement.

"—And then how I am supposed to help you when you're in front of a court on battery charges?"

"Enough, lass." Hook closed his eyes in a request for peace and touched his hand to her arm. "Shall we return to your plans?"

Emma frowned. "Why do you refuse to understand how serious this stuff is? You can't go attacking people without good reason."

"I do understand, love." He kissed her forehead. "I had good reason."