Chapter 35: Well Played

Hook lay on his bed in the elaborate captain's quarters, toying absentmindly with his hook. Judging by the coloring of the sky, it was late. Very late. His body was exhausted, weighed down from the events of the past several days. Sleep would be amazing. However, as weary as he was physically, his mind was racing, rendering him unable to escape into the blissful oblivion that only sleep could bring.

The last time this had happened had been right after Milah's death. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could picture was the haunting image of her heart being torn out, her collapsing in his arms as she died. It had taken months upon months (and lots of rum) to finally be able to sleep through the night.

And now, the same thing was happening. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Emma. Her teary face as she spoke, the devastated look when she learned of his betrayal. All he could hear was her voice.

"You broke me. You broke my heart. And I hate you because I still love you. And I hate myself even more for it!"

Not even all the rum in the world could erase the hauntingly beautiful voice from his memories.

The worst part was that she had every right to feel that way. And there was nothing he could do to fix the hurt, to take back what he did. He'd tried; he really did. Sacrificing his life to defeat Cora had been the most noble, most selfless thing he could do. But it wasn't enough.

And now, because of him, Emma was hurt. Broken beyond repair. Even worse than before. It had been hard enough to win her trust the first time; now he was fairly certain that she'd be unable to trust anyone ever again.

Maybe the best thing he could do was to leave her alone. He'd clearly caused enough damage. All he ever did was hurt her.

Maybe it would be for the best if he just gave up.

Hook awoke with a start. His flask was still clutched in one hand, lying on its side on the hard mattress, a few errant drops spilling out and staining the mattress a dark color. For a second, he wondered what he was doing awake. Though the sun was streaming through the filthy windows, he could tell that it was still fairly early.

There was a loud ringing, and for a moment he thought it was just his ears. Maybe he'd hit his head or something. But then the realization that it was coming from his phone. Making a grab for the smooth, rectangular device, he blearily slid his finger across the screen and held it to his face.

"Hullo?" His voice was groggy and clearly thick with sleep. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello?"

"Hook?" Came a loud, perky voice. It was Henry. "A-are you there?"

What the bloody hell was the boy doing calling this early in the morning? Unless, of course, something had happened to Emma. Suddenly wide awake, he sat up, immediately regretting doing so, as his head began to spin rapidly. "Is your mother ok?"

"Yeah." Henry said, and Hook could swear that the boy was fighting a smile. What was he so happy about? "This isn't about Emma."

"Then what?" Hook deflated. "Because you just interrupted me from the loveliest of sleeps, and I can assure you I'm a man who greatly relishes his slumber."

"I-I need your help." Henry responded. "I just saw someone go into the grocery store."

"So?" Hook quipped sarcastically. That was why he'd been so rudely interrupted? "I hate to break it to you, lad, but I'm a mere pirate and even I know that stores are where people go."

"No. You don't understand. The store's closed. It's dark and everything. It has to be a burglar."

"Call your mother. Or your grandfather. I understand that's what they're for."

"I already tried. No one's responding." Henry urged. "You need to go stop them. I think they had a gun."

Hook sighed deeply, but he knew that he couldn't refuse. "Where is this store?"

He arrived there rather quickly, his hook glinting in the harsh morning sun. It had served him in many difficult situations, and he was certain that it could overpower a gun. Whatever that was. Emma had tried explaining before, but he'd quickly grown confused.

"There you are." Henry said. As planned, they'd met around the corner from the store. "Wow." He coughed, waving the air in front of him. "Your breath. It smells terrible."

Hook shrugged. After so many years he'd grown accustomed to it. Barely even noticed the rum aftertaste. Emma had tried getting him to clean his teeth with a strange appliance, but he'd never liked doing so and now he had no reason to.

"Here." Henry handed him a small white tablet. "It's a breath mint."

"Why would I need this?" Hook said, popping it into his mouth, wincing at the strong flavor.

"Because your breath stinks."

"And why does that matter?"

"No reason." Henry said rather quickly, and if it wasn't for the rum dulling his senses Hook would've pushed further. "Anyway, I think he's still in there."

"Alright." Hook said, eyeing the boy suspiciously. "Stay here and don't follow."

"I won't." The boy grinned cheekily.

Hook trudged off into the store. Mercifully, the door was wide open. Whoever this thief was, they were clearly inexperienced. As he entered, he was hit with a barrage of memories from the last time he was here. Watching, out of the corner of his eye, a small blonde head turning the corner towards what he later learned were the coffee machines. Her annoyed huffs and foot stomps as she tried to edge around him. He'd give anything to go back to that day. He might've still been working for Cora, but at least Emma didn't hate him.

It was dark, but nothing he wasn't used to. He tiptoed around, keeping his eyes peeled for any sight of movement. Twice he thought he heard the quick footsteps of another person coming from somewhere inside the store, but when he turned there was no one there.

Yeah. No one. There was absolutely no one in this place. And nothing was missing either. The boy clearly had an overactive imagination. The store was probably just left open and Henry just thought he saw someone enter. Hook was about to exit and chastise the lad for waking him up when he heard a light sneeze.

Maybe Henry hadn't been imagining things. Heading in the direction he was sure the sneeze came from, he was startled to find the door to the back storeroom slightly open. He frowned; hadn't that been closed when he'd passed by earlier?

Slowly, carefully, he backed up and then ran up and crashed his body against the door and subsequently another person. The thief, he presumed. Huh. He hadn't expected them to be so close to the door. Without hesitation, he slammed the thief against the wall.

"Your jig is up, thief. How does it feel to be caught by a pirate?" He snarled.

"What're you talking about?" The thief struggled, but Hook was much bigger, keeping them pinned against the wall. "I'm not the thief." Their voice seemed vaguely familiar, as did their scent, but in the dark he couldn't place it. Before he could think further, Hook's stomach exploded with pain as the other person's elbow crashed into him. He backed up, clutching his stomach.

"Bloody hell." He said as he realized that the thief was none other than Emma, who looked just as shocked to see him.

"What're you doing here?" They both snapped at the exact same time. It would've been very funny if the situation hadn't been so serious.

"Henry called me about a thief." Emma narrowed her eyes. "And you're the thief, I guess? I should've known. Pirate and all."

"Hey. I take offense at that." He quipped. "I'm not. If I was, I wouldn't have called you the thief." Hook pointed out. "Your lad called me about a thief."

"What? Why would he call both of us?"

Just then, the door slammed shut with an ominous click. Emma immediately ran up to it and jiggled the handle. "Locked." She looked back helplessly at him.

"Let me try." He walked up and rattled the handle, finding it stuck.

"I told you." She snapped. "Hello?" She called, slamming her hands against the door. "Is anyone there?"

"Bloody thief probably locked us both in here." Hook said wearily, lowering himself down onto a box. "Well played." He raised his flask in acknowledgement and held it to his lips.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Hey! Let us out!"

"Not until you make up." A small voice said.

"Henry?" Emma said in surprise. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry about this, but you two have to make up. You both love each other. And I'm not letting you out until then." Footsteps sounded as if they were growing farther and farther away, until they disappeared entirely.

"Bloody hell."

"Agreed."

Both looked at each other. This was going to be a long day.

Author's note: A long day indeed. What's gonna happen next?