A clap of thunder woke Princess Emma from her slumber. Not that it was restful slumber in the enclosed hammock bed which swayed with the waves. Getting out of it was no mean feat either. Indeed, she was grateful there was no one in sight to watch her tumble to the floor. She picked herself up, trying to find her sea legs as the ship was tossed from wave to wave but she invariably stumbled, careening for the bookcase ahead of her. Another toss, and this time she latched onto the ladder to the deck as water poured through the hatch

Above deck she could hear the crew battling the storm. Light streaked across the light, accompanied by an almighty crash of thunder. Emma clamoured up the ladder and pushed the hatch open. The men worked under Hook's direction as a well-oiled team as they hoisted the sails to prevent the ship being tossed around too much.

'Stay below deck, Princess,' Hook yelled above the howl of the wind.

'No,' she yelled back, finding her balance. 'I keep being tossed about. I'm going to end up injured.'

She stared at the Captain, hand twisted around some of the rigging, the rough fibres grated against her skin as more sea spray was thrown up the side. He stared back at her, this was clearly the last thing he needed in the midest of a storm. She noticed how he stood with his legs apart, shifting his weight as rode waves while his upper body flexed to hold the wheel in place.

'Get up here,' he bellowed.

Her short journey onto the bridge was stumbled. But once she made it up, Hook relinquished his hold on the wheel to grab her. His stormy eyes met hers as he dragged her over to the wheel.

'You need to be careful Princess,' he said taking his hold on the wheel again. 'Outrunning this will not be easy. Do as I say without question.' Emma nodded. 'Take the wheel with me, we need to hold her steady while all but the main sail is hauled up.'

He directs her to take the handle next on his left, then two to his right. 'Spread your legs a little wider, it will help with the balance,' he directed, 'then brace against wheel.'

She nodded her head, determined to see this through, and surprised at the evident trust he has just put in her. As the night wares on the storm, which he remarks is more a damnation, shows little sign of abating. However, Emma soon found herself working in sync with Hook as he gave his commands to help him move the wheel port or starboard. The real test came as the sky began to lighten.

Over the course of the storm, the waves had reached unimaginable heights. Emma had looked up on more than one occasion to see nothing but a wall of water alongside her. The Captain didn't seem too concern but then, she assumed, it wouldn't do for him to show any form of fear. Now, however, fear lingered in the blue depths of Hook's eyes.

'What do we do?' she asked.

Hook scanned the wave that was coming in their direction. As he did so, his hand slipped onto the handle she was holding. His fingers were surprisingly warm, and the calloused touch was comforting as she looked at the wall of water off the port side.

'We're going to go over it,' replied Hook.

She wanted to question his sanity. But an 'ok' escaped her lips. Emma exhaled focusing on task ahead. They had to survive. She had to survive to find a way to warn her mother about the Evil Queen. Warmth pooled in her belly, the back of her spine and the tips of her fingers. She took another great, deep breath and exhaled as she tried to imagine them going over the wave.

-/-

Killian was no stranger to magic. However, Emma's current unconscious use of it as they began their ascent into the wave. His hand remained on hers at the wheel while he called down to David. The magic slowly infused across the enchanted wood of the ship. The Jolly Roger skimmed along the wave, barely tilting as she rose higher and higher.

'Come on, Swan,' he muttered under his breath, willing the woman he loved to the surface, 'you can do this.'

The Jolly Roger crested the wave, landing on the other side into the clear predawn sky. Killian looked behind him, the wave continuing into the storm they had just escaped. Before he had a moment to contemplate what they had just left behind, Emma stumbled back. He spun and caught as she fell into a dead faint.

'Emma,' he said as he lowered her on to the sodden floor, but it was clear she was still breathing from the rise and fall of her chest.

'She must have expended her every last piece of energy on getting us out that storm,' said David, crouching down on the other side of Emma and pressing the back of his hand to her cheek. 'Have you ever seen anything like it?'

'Like that?' croaked Killian. 'Not at all.' He meant both the magic and the storm. 'I'll take her below deck to rest and we'll see where we are come the evening.' He looked up at the pink sky. 'There is no way we're still on course.'

He lifts the Princess into his arms and carries her down to the Captain's quarters were Henry has been patiently waiting out the storm. The poor lad looks shattered, but bar for assessing the damage to the ship, there will not be much any of them can do until the next day.

'What happened?' he asked, rushing to the steps from the deck.

'Exhaustion,' Killian replied. 'She managed to use magic to get us out the storm. I don't think she even knew what she was doing.'

Henry nodded as he stepped aside to allow Killian to place Emma on the small bed. 'The Evil Queen made her forget she has magic, but she couldn't take it away from her.' He smiled, his young face reassured after months of worry that they would find her but there would be no trace of her.

Killian had feared the same but never voiced it. He didn't want to worry Henry, nor did he want to give into the fear he could lose Emma. After everything they had faced together, the Darkness and the Underworld, this curse seemed such a paltry manner in which to lose her.

Behind him, Henry climbed onto the deck without a further word. Killian turned to watch him leave, his hand resting on Emma's shoulder. Her clothes were soaked through and he sighed. There was no way he would allow her to sleep in wet clothing but he sensed that the Princess would not be impressed if he stripped her of her clothes. However, he was willing to risk her wrath.

As he covered her in blankets, now in dry attire, Emma looked peaceful in sleep as if she were still the woman he fell in love with. His thumb stroked her temple and she rolled over. Killian felt the urge that had been brewing in his chest since he had first seen her on the docks of Mournstead; to feel her lips against his. He closed his eyes against the urge. This woman didn't love him even if his Emma was buried deep inside.

Yet what could it hurt. With the expulsion of magic she had just created, there might be enough of her at the surface for this to work. Not that he had experienced much success with True Love's Kiss when it came to Emma. He pressed his lips her brow.

'I love you,' he whispered against her headline.

-/-

She woke in a bundle of warm blankets that smell surprisingly familiar to her groggy head. As she stretched, she became aware that her legs were bare and she was wearing a soft black skirt instead of the night dress. She sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest and gazed around. It was immediately clear she wasn't in her cabin, but if she had to guess, this would be the Captains. Hook's cabin. The room was surprisingly neat, almost airy and not at all fitting in with her perception of pirates. As her eyes searched the room she found a pile of folded clothes on the table.

She swung her legs over the bed, clutching the blankets to her chest and walked over to inspect the clothes. It wasn't a dress but a set of soft subtle leggings with laces down each leg, a soft white shirt with a vest to go over the top and on the floor sat a pair of knee high boots. Emma smiled. When she was younger, she had found similar attire in her mother's room, a relic of her banditry days and had in part wished for them rather than soft chiffon dresses her mother insisted she wear.

As she dressed, she caught herself in the mirror. Her hair was messy, tousled from the sea spray that had battered the ship the night before, while her skin had already taken on a dark hue from the exposure to the sun while her jade eyes flickered with something other than boredom. The woman looking back at her was not the coiffured Princess who had left the safety of Misthaven's palace. Yet she looked familiar. Felt a little more real.

Emma turned away, taking a deep breath as she walked towards the ladder that would take on her deck. It was quiet but for a few able seamen doing some work. Hook young ward, Henry, sat scribbling on a piece of paper and didn't look up at her as she emerged. On the deck below Hook and Mr Nolan were looking up at the fore mast with the Captain pointing up at something in the rigging.

'It's no worse than the damage sustained in Neverland,' he explained as Emma drew close.

'Only this time we don't have Regina to fix it,' replied Mr Nolan.

Hook tilted his head towards Mr Nolan and raised an eyebrow. 'While her help ensured we were on our way much sooner, fixing this isn't beyond our abilities when we make port, granted it will take longer. Just as soon as I know which port is closest we'll make haste there.'

'Then we're lost?' Emma asked, cutting across the conversation.

Both men turned to look at her, their eyes sweeping over her attire then exchanging a glance before Mr Nolan excused himself by saying he would check on Henry. Emma watched the first mate go, climbing up the steps to the bridge. She turned to face Hook. His eyes flickered over him, a hint of puzzlement, and perhaps disappointment as he rested his handless wrist on the hilt of his cutlass. She noted he wasn't wearing the long leather coat she had previously though might have been an extension of his body.

'So we're lost?' she repeated.

'Not lost, love,' Hook replied. 'I have a fair idea but after last night's storm I plan to fully confirm it with the night sky.'

She nodded, but didn't feel wholly convinced by his explanation. She dug her thumbs into belt of the tunic and rocked back onto her heels. 'How did you learn how to sail?' she asked.

Hook raised his eyebrow at her but walked passed her without answering. Her gaze followed him before following a couple of steps behind until they were on the bridge. Henry was gone but the hatch to the Captain's cabin was left slightly open.

'Well?' she probed as Hook took the wheel.

Emma took a place beside the housing, but as she did so, she noticed something. Scratched out markings of port and starboard. She looked down at them, head tilted to one side in contemplation before her hand came up and traced the markings. They were old, but the groves still cut into her index finger.

'What are these?'

She looked up expecting to see the Captain meeting her eyes in some sort of defiant manner, but he too was gazing at the markings. His eyes were such a dark shade of indigo that they almost looked purple.

'A reminder,' he said softly. 'Someone I care very deeply for told me I could be part of something greater than myself. In a moment of weakness, and defiance, I scratched this out as I told myself otherwise. I was proved wrong.'

'Where is this someone?' she asked.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing deeply, before his spoke. 'Gone,' he said, his fingers clenching the handles of the wheel.

The irrevocable sense of loss in him was tangible. It was the same sort of loss she felt; as if she had just missed something that existed beyond her reach. Her free hand came up from her said and grabbed his forearm. Their eyes met, something immutable settled in her stomach as she exhaled.