Chapter 20

Enchanted Forest, not quite a year before the first curse

Hook slowly woke, becoming gradually aware of the rough ground below him, the chill in the air, the throbbing pain in the back of his head. Bloody hell!

Something hard and sharp was against his windpipe, and suddenly he remembered where he was, what had just happened. He'd led the bar wench from the tavern and then something had hit him. He opened his eyes, and then swore loudly again. A woman was lying on top of him—and not in the good way. Her long red hair fell to his chest, her eyes crazed and angry, her hand holding a dagger to his throat. Bloody hell!

"What exactly is it you want, love," he drawled, trying to ignore his pain and his less than dignified position.

"Where is he?' she demanded in a furious voice. "What have you done with him.

He eyed he suspiciously. What in all the realms was the harpy talking about?

"Just who do you think I've taken, lass?"

She dug the dagger deeper, and Hook felt a sharp pain as the instrument bit into his skin. He growled, glaring at her in a way that had made grown men quail.

"You know full well what I mean!" she said, apparently not intimidated in the least. "Where's Prince Erik?'

"No idea," he drawled. "If you've lost your lover, darling, perhaps you'd do better to look to yourself for the fault. Men generally tend to dislike their women to hold sharp objects to their throats."

"Don't play stupid!" the woman shrieked. "It won't work with me. For the last time, where have you taken him?"

Hook was growing tired of this game. It had been quite the difficult few weeks, and this was quickly becoming too much. Raising his hand, he easily knocked aside her hand and the dagger she held to his neck.

"Careful, love," he growled threateningly, "have you any idea who you're dealing with? I'm not accustomed to let anyone, man or woman, hold me at knife point."

"Oh I know exactly who you are, Captain Hook," she spat the name as though it was the vilest of obscenities. "And you don't intimidate me. I know you've taken him prisoner. I saw him on the Jolly Roger, the ship you captain."

Ignoring the back of his head that throbbed with every beat of his heart, Hook moved swiftly. In one fluid motion, he'd flipped them, landed on top of the red-head, and placed the dagger to her throat.

"What do you know about the Jolly?" he asked, a note of crazed anger entering his voice.

Her eyes widened in fear. Good, the daft woman was finally starting recognize her danger. She remained silent.

"I asked you a question!" he thundered. "The Jolly. What do you know about her?"

The woman's moment of fear passed, and a look of determination came back into her blue eyes. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small mirror. "I saw her in this," she spat. "Not a day past. I saw my prince tied up on your ship! Now, tell me what you've done with him or I swear, I'll slice your throat open like a fish!"

Hook laughed humorlessly. "Hardly in a place to make demands, darling, considering I'm holding the knife to your throat."

"Doesn't matter!" she said contemptuously. "I'll find a way. I'll save my true love if it's the last thing I do!"

Hook applied a bit more pressure on the dagger and the woman gasped. "That would be hard to do, pet if you are dead."

Her eyes widened, the fear apparent. "I…I don't know anything about your ship," she said tremulously, "only that my Erik has been taken aboard."

"Where is she?" Hook demanded, pressing his advantage. "Where is my ship?"

"You don't know?" she asked shrilly.

"Obviously," Hook said in frustration. "If I knew where she was, I wouldn't need you, and I would have long since slit your throat. I don't suffer anyone to best me and live to tell the tale."

She gasped and looked anxiously into his eyes, then she relaxed. "No, I don't think you would have," she said reflectively. "You may be a pirate, but you wouldn't stoop to murdering innocent women in cold blood."

"I might debate the word 'innocent', given you threatened to kill me," he said. "Nevertheless, as I do need you and I have decided not to kill you—yet, perhaps it would be best if you give me a name with which to call you. I'd wager 'duplicitous bitch who tried to kill me' wouldn't be to your liking?"

"Ariel," the woman said, "and since you're not going to kill me—yet, would you mind moving the dagger from my windpipe?"

Hook got up and offered his hand to help Ariel to her feet. "Now lass, suppose you tell me how you know your lover is being held on my ship."

Ariel tapped the mirror still in her hand. "The Evil Queen enchanted this mirror with a locator spell. All I need to do is look into it to see where my Erik is."

Hook grabbed at the delicate mirror Ariel held, but she pulled her hand out of his reach. He growled. "My mercy and patience only extend so far, lass. I'll have that mirror!"

She shook her head and took a small step back. "It'll do you no good," she said. "The mirror's been enchanted to show me my true love. It won't work for you."

Hook lunged once more for the mirror, and this time succeeded in wrenching it from the young woman's hand. He peer intently into its depths, and then cursed. The lass was speaking the truth. All he saw within the mirror was his own angry visage.

Ariel stepped forward, and plucked the mirror back from him and shoved it into a small purse she wore on one shoulder.

"As it turns out, Captain," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, "I have a proposition for you, one that I think will be mutually beneficial."

"Aye?" Hook asked skeptically, "and just what might that be."

"I'll lead you to the Jolly Roger, if you help me find and rescue my Prince Erik."

Hook eyed the woman uncertainly for long moments, and then spoke. "Suppose we retrieve the Jolly, and then take it from there."

"I'll have your word you'll help me!" Ariel demanded.

Hook shrugged and leaned lazily against the wall. He was well adept at poker; he was nothing if not able to pull off a good bluff. "It makes no difference to me, love," he drawled. "The Jolly will turn up one way or another. I'll find her with or without your help. Are you willing to take the chance that the same can be said of your lover?"

He watched the uncertainty creep into her eyes. "Fine," she said after a moment. "I'll lead you to your ship. I'll leave the rest to your sense of honor."

Enchanted Forest, present day

Charming woke suddenly. What was that noise? It sounded like the slightly squeaky hinges on the castle's main door.

Carefully, so as not to disturb his peacefully sleeping wife, he jumped from the bed, threw on a dressing gown, grabbed his sword, and headed out of his chamber door.

Stepping out into the dimly lit hallway, Charming stood still, listening intently. Not a sound could be heard. Had he imagined it? Given the threats that were constantly facing all of them, he decided he would do best to do a sweep of the main floor just in case.

He moved methodically from room to room, sword held out before him, ready for attack. As he passed through each room in turn, his relief steadily grew. Must have been something he dreamed.

He walked slowly through the dining room, and was just about to sheath his sword and return to bed when the sheet of paper on the table caught his eye. Curious, he picked it up and began reading.

His heart pounded. Blackbeard had lured Killian into his trap! Surely, Emma hadn't read this and gone after him alone. Surely she wouldn't do that! Fearing that was precisely what happened, Charming took the stairs two at a time and sprinted down the hallway, stopping directly before Emma and Killian's chamber.

He raised his fist and pounded on the thick, heavy door. "Emma!" he shouted, heedless of the hour or the many people in chambers throughout this corridor who were presumably sleeping.

There was no answer. He pounded again. Still no answer. Charming took a deep breath and turned the knob. It took less than a second to scan the chamber and determine it was utterly deserted.

Charming ran back to his room and found Snow sitting up in bed, a confused, concerned look on her face.

"What's wrong, Charming?"

Charming thrust the letter at her and quickly began dressing. He heard his wife gasp. "She went after him didn't she?"

"I think so," Charming said, pulling on his heavy boots. "Neither she nor Killian are in their room. I'm going to go after them. I pray I'm not too late."

Snow got awkwardly to her feet and reached for her clothing.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Getting dressed," she said with determination. "You'll need help. My bow can come in handy."

He stilled her with a hand to her shoulder. "Honey, you're nearly eight months pregnant. I need you to stay here; keep our baby safe."

She looked mutinous for a moment, and then dropped her head. She nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yeah. I guess you're right." She looked up, and her eyes blazed with an expression so intense it was classic Snow White. "But you can't go alone! Blackbeard can't be beaten with your weapons. You need help."

Charming nodded. "I intend to ask Rumple and the Camelot knights to join me."

"Sounds good," Snow said. "Let's go wake everybody up."

As it happened, waking everyone proved to be unnecessary. The commotion Charming made running through the hall, pounding on doors and yelling seemed to have done the job already. When Snow and Charming stepped outside their chamber door, they found the entire household awake and standing outside their doors.

"And just what is so urgent that you felt the need to rouse everyone from their sleep, Dearie?" Rumple snarled.

"We've got a problem," Charming said.

Regina sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"

As succinctly as possible, Charming explained the note he'd found and his fears for Killian's and Emma's safety.

Regina sighed heavily once again. "Just like Emma to go charging off, guns blazing without thinking of the consequences! Just give me a moment to get dressed and I'll be ready to come with you."

Charming eyed he gratefully. "Thanks, Regina," he said, "but I think it would be a bad idea for you to come along."

"And just why is that?" she asked defensively.

"You're Blackbeard's target as well," Charming said simply. "Coming along would be too dangerous. We need you for the big fight with Blackbeard and Ursula whenever that happens."

"You need me," Regina insisted stubbornly. "That sword at your waist isn't going to be worth a damn against Blackbeard. You need a practitioner of magic."

Robin stepped painfully forward. "I must echo the prince's concern, my lady," he said gently. "Confronting Blackbeard is simply too dangerous."

Charming watched as Regina's eyes softened at Robin's concern. Maybe things were finally starting to thaw between the two of them.

"Fine," Regina said, "I'll stay. You want to go in there and offer yourself up for slaughter? Be my guest."

Belle gave her husband a significant look, and he sighed. "You needn't go alone. I'll provide you magical cover."

"Thank you!" Snow breathed earnestly. "We were hoping you would."

"And we are at you service as well, your majesty," Lancelot said, stepping forward. Sir Galahad and Sir Gawain nodded behind him.

"I would offer my bow as well," Robin said, "but I fear in my current state of health I would be more of a hindrance than a help."

"Thanks for the offer Robin," Charming said, "but you'll be of more help here protecting the castle."

"Be assured my men and I will die before letting any harm befall your wife or unborn child."

"He'll have my magic as well," Regina said firmly.

"Thank you," Charming said earnestly. "Now, let's go save the savior."

….

"No!" Killian screamed as he watched Emma hit the far wall and disappear from view. The water had reached his mouth now, and his shout was garbled. He began kicking and banging on the glass once again, cursing the sea water that cushioned his blows.

He had to get out of here! He had to. It had been five minutes and Emma had yet to emerge from the ruined wall. The water approached his nose. He had only minutes now. He fought on for another two minutes, and then finally began to despair. There was no way out. He had failed in his most important job as husband and father. He had failed to protect his wife and child.

Killian turned burning eyes on Blackbeard. The man stood still, peering at him with an inscrutable look. He seemed almost…uncomfortable…with the turn of events. Burning anger warred with Killian's panic.

"Save her!" he begged. "Let me die, but save her!"

The water swallowed Kililan's words, Blackbeard continued standing impassively, Emma never emerged, and Killian's lungs were beginning to burn from lack of air. At long last, he let go of his last shred of hope.

And then something strange happened. Killian saw an odd green light coming from the stairs leading to the deck. A moment later, chaos erupted. The Crocodile emerged, shooting magic at Blackbeard. Charming and the knights of Camelot surged in behind him, carefully skirting the two men already locked in battle.

"Where is she?" Charming asked, looking around desperately. Killian pointed in the direction his wife had fallen, and he saw Charming nod and hurry off in that direction. His vision was starting to darken. He'd be unconscious soon.

Suddenly, there was a crash, and Killian was falling forward, dropping amid flowing water and broken glass. He pulled in desperate lung-fulls of air, grateful beyond words for his life. After several moments, several gasping breaths, he became aware of a large, steady hand on his back. He looked up, to find himself looking into the concerned blue eyes of his father.

"D…da," he said breathlessly. "You saved me."

Sir Gawain gently pulled him to his feet, and wrapped his arms around him. For a moment, Killian clung to his father, fighting against the tears of relief that threatened.

After a moment, he pushed away and surveyed the scene around him. The room was a waterlogged mess, scattered with broken glass and rotting wood. Blackbeard had disappeared, apparently having somehow escaped the Crocodile.

"How did you do that?" Killian asked his former nemesis. "He enchanted the ship to repel magic."

"Not even a challenge, Dearie," the Crocodile said lazily. "As soon as Charming showed me Blackbeard's letter, I saw he talked about guarding against Emma's magic, and I knew what he'd done. His spell was so weak I could have taken it down in my sleep."

"Thank you," Killian said, extending a hand to the Crocodile. The other man looked startled for a moment, and then he gave Killian's hand one small shake.

Killian looked around, once more, desperate for news of Emma. Sir Galahad and Charming knelt next to the wall where Emma had disappeared. Both men, both of Emma's fathers looked inside, silent and still. Fear blossomed inside Killian's chest. Why weren't they moving? Why weren't they helping Emma out?

Suddenly he rushed forward, desperate to reach his wife, desperate to see for himself that she was alright. She had to be alright; that was the only outcome he could accept.

Charming turned around just as Killian reached the ruined wall. Charming's face was pale and grave, and Killian's fear spiraled.

"Mate," Killian said in a shaken voice, "is she…"

"No," Charming said firmly, placing a comforting hand on Killian's shoulder. "She's still alive, but…Killian…prepare yourself. It looks bad."

Killian nodded, and pushed forward, forcing himself to look. She lay in an awkward heap, legs bent beneath her. She was pale as death, but worse by far was the blood. There was so much blood; she lay in a pool of it.

"Get her to help," Killian ground out brokenly. "Please, save her."

….

Killian sat next to the bed, his head bowed, his single hand gripping hers like a lifeline. She was alive. There was that, at least. Friar Tuck had worked over her for long minutes, finally giving her a sleeping draught.

"She'll need her sleep, my lad," the friar said gently. "She must rest and let her body heal. It would be better by far for her to be stronger before she learns the news."

The news. Killian let go of Emma, and placed a trembling hand on her belly, above her empty womb. The baby was gone, killed sometime in the midst of Emma's skirmish with Blackbeard. A tear escaped Killian's closed eyelid and tracked raggedly down his cheek. He and Emma's child, the fruit of their love, was dead.

Friar Tuck had actually been relieved when he'd learned there had been a baby. Terrible as the loss was, at least it explained the blood Emma had lost.

She would be devastated. When she awoke and learned what had happened, he shuddered to imagine her reaction.

The agony welled up within him. The baby was dead and Emma was only tenuously clinging to life. If he lost them both…the possibility wasn't even worth considering. It would crush him.

My fault, my fault! It kept repeating like a refrain in his mind. He'd failed Emma; he'd failed them both. If only he'd been a gentleman all those years ago. If only he'd taken Tiger Lily under his wing, gotten her back to her guardian. If only he'd exercised self-restraint and refused what she'd offered. If only he'd learned about the baby, had a chance to help her, take care of her. If only he'd hidden Blackbeard's note better this morning. If only he'd done something to make sure Emma wouldn't follow him to the ship's ruin.

So many 'if only's. So many terrible, despicable choices he'd made in his life. But he wasn't the one to pay the price. No. His beautiful Emma, their baby, they were the ones who suffered.

It was almost suffocating, the torture he was feeling. He had to do something! There had to be something! You can make him pay, a seductive little voice whispered in the back of his mind. You can go back to Blackbeard and exact your vengeance.

He'd given up his vengeance against the Crocodile two years ago, given it up for Emma. It had been the right choice, the only choice. He'd come to realize that killing the Crocodile would do nothing to bring Milah back. Fulfilling his quest would not bring him peace, only more emptiness.

He should run from the very thought of the vendetta he was contemplating against Blackbeard, but God help him he couldn't. His pain was too raw, his loss too recent. Emma was so weak and fragile in that bed, and it was anyone's guess whether she would even survive the night. It was bad enough he'd failed to protect the most precious people in his life; what manner of a man would he be if he let the monster who harmed them get away?

And as quickly as that, the rage rose up and tossed aside the pain, the agony and the guilt. Killian stood, leaned over to place a quick kiss on Emma's still lips, reached over to the night stand, and snapped his hook into place. This ended tonight!

Quietly, so as not to disturb his wife, Hook stepped from their room and shut the door. Face grim, he turned around…and ran right into Charming.

"Killian?" the prince asked, "what are you doing? What's going on."

"I'm off to plant my hook right in the middle of Blackbeard's filthy heart," he spat, trying to step around his father-in-law.

Charming planted his feet, refusing to move. "I can't let you do that."

The storm clouds crowded across Hook's brow. "Stand aside, mate," he growled. "I will have my vengeance!"

He shoved Emma's father, and the prince shoved back.

"I know you're hurting," Charming said. "You've suffered a great loss, but Emma needs you! Hunting him down won't help her heal, won't bring your baby back."

"Bugger off!" Hook nearly yelled, "Charming, it's your grandchild he killed! It's your daughter who even now lies at death's door. You want me to just let him get away with this?!"

Charming placed a firm hand on Hook's shoulder, and met his eyes squarely. "I am every bit as angry as you. If the son of a bitch was standing here in front of me, I think I could tear him apart limb from limb with my bare hands. But vengeance isn't the answer! Surely you've learned that after spending three hundred years in a futile chase for it."

He was right, Hook knew he was, but the rage had taken over, and he was almost beyond reason. "So we just go about our merry way, letting him attack our women with impunity?"

Charming growled in frustration. "No!" he said urgently. "Killian, I swear to you on my life that we will find him. We will bring him to justice for his crimes. You have to trust me. But going off in a murderous rage is not the answer. In his current untouchable state, you cannot defeat Blackbeard. You go up against him now, all that will happen is that he will kill you."

"So be it," Hook said defiantly, but indecision had begun to creep into his voice. "If I must die, at least I will do so fighting for the woman I love."

Charming laughed humorlessly. "A damn lot of good that will do her!" he said bitterly. "Think Killian! When Emma wakes—not if she wakes, when she wakes—she will need you more than she's ever needed you before. She'll need your love and support through the difficult days after she learns about the baby. The last thing my daughter needs is to be abandoned by someone else she loves."

"I'd never abandon her!" Hook thundered.

"But isn't that what you'd be doing if you went off half-cocked and Blackbeard succeeded in killing you?"

It was true. Everything Charming said was true. Suddenly the fight went out of Killian, and his shoulders drooped. "I know," he whispered.

Charming patted him on the back, and Killian saw the tears in his father-in-law's eyes. "I'm sorry this happened to you, to Emma," Charming said, letting a single tear slide down his cheek. "Snow's a mess, and I'm not doing so well myself, but we'll get through this. We're a family, and I promise you, we'll find a way through this."

Killian nodded, his throat constricted. "Thanks, mate," he said tightly.

"Don't mention it. Go on. Get back to your wife."

Killian nodded, and headed back to Emma's bedside.

Notes:

-Oh, that was just plain sad—but at least I didn't leave you in suspense very long after that last chapter!

-Obviously the back in time section was inspired by 3x17.

-As far as the present day section goes… I didn't want to make Emma lose the baby, I really didn't, but I somehow had no choice. The muse insisted. In each of my non-fluffy stories there's been one or two things that I just knew from the beginning had to happen, and try as I might (and I usually did try, because they're usually things I really don't want to have to do), I just can't not write them. It's just the way the story goes. Killian and Emma losing the baby was just one of those times. There is one more thing near the end of the story that the muse insists upon—but don't worry, this is actually a happy event!

-One more little note on names. I have been very deliberate throughout the story in when I call our favorite pirate "Killian" and when I call him "Hook." He turned briefly back into Hook at the end of this chapter when he almost went back to his old ways of vengeance. Good thing Charming was around to talk him out of it!

-Up next: Not quite a year ago in the Enchanted Forest, Ariel leads Hook to the Jolly Roger (now the Queen Anne's Revenge), and Hook and Blackbeard have their first confrontation. In the present day, Emma wakes, and she and Killian deal with the death of their first child. Sounds pretty depressing, I know, but things will get better.