Chapter 6: Hope

Emma tried to get comfortable as she listened to Hook pace from stern to bow for hours. He'd stop his pacing for a few seconds at a time, and she guessed he was inspecting something that he'd found. She'd been locked below deck for nearly an entire day. She'd slept fitfully a few times, just short bursts of sleep that weren't nearly adequate enough, but at least it was something. She needed to figure out how to deal with this latest challenge. She needed Hook to remember.

Finally she heard something different as he descended from the deck down to his cabin. She could hear him there, looking through his things, and she hoped that he might see something that would jog his memory. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he opened the door and stepped inside.

"Stay seated," he ordered, the sword gripped firmly in his hand.

"Okay," she nodded, putting her hands up in front of her in surrender.

He came in and sat on a crate, lowering the sword but keeping it in hand. "Now," he threatened, "as briefly as possible, I want you to answer one question for me. If I don't believe you, I am going to leave."

"If I know the answer, I'll tell you," she nodded, an earnest look in her eyes.

He pulled up his jacket sleeve with his hook, still trying to get used to the unfamiliar apparatus, and revealed his tattoo. He asked, "Who is Milah?"

"I don't know if that's question I can answer briefly."

He sneered, lifting his sword and standing to leave.

"Wait," she argued. "I'll tell you what I know. Milah was the woman you loved."

"You said I declared my love for you at some cave. I had trouble making up my mind?" he sarcastically asked.

"You loved her a long, long time ago. She was married to a man who was the Dark One or…became the Dark One. She chose you. He killed her, he ripped out her heart. And he cut off your hand. You devoted your life to seeking revenge. I don't know much else. It isn't exactly something you like to talk about, so I don't really know the details. But you told me that you never thought you'd love anyone after her…until me."

He nodded and stood to leave, and she assumed he was probably going to continue his exploration alone. "Wait," she argued, "don't leave me down here. I can help you and I need your help. I need to get back to my son."

Ignoring her, Hook went to his cabin, and Emma felt like she'd lost her chance. She was growing impatient, and seriously considering obliterating the door with her magic and subduing him until he believed her. Just then, he returned. He held out her clothes, draped over his hook. "These yours?" he asked.

"Yes."

"These don't look like anything I've ever seen. Why'd you change out of your clothes for pirate togs? Trying to blend in with my crew?" he accused.

"I wanted to wash them. And we went on shore yesterday and were planning on using your reputation as a pirate to avoid any trouble. I wanted to look the part. You gave them to me."

"I've a reputation as a pirate already?" he asked, adding glibly, "I must be doing something right."

"In my world you certainly have a reputation…or had. The people who know you see that you've changed. But in many worlds, you were feared. Notorious. You're…Captain Hook."

"Captain Hook? Well that's inventive." He lifted his hook toward her, "Take your things."

She moved cautiously, retrieving her clothes. "You believe me?"

"Not sure. I have no recollection of this tattoo, of Milah, of you, of losing my hand. I don't recognize the crates our provisions are kept in either, and I certainly don't recognize the skies. Seems a somewhat elaborate story for you to make up, so it's clear something is going on. I'm still not sure exactly what. But how are you certain that your memories are the accurate ones? Perhaps your mind was tampered with as well."

"Because I saw the moment when you lost your memory. Everything was fine and then…it was like something grabbed onto you and took your memory. Just like when people cross the town line in Storybrooke."

"I don't remember any such place."

"It's where my son and my parents are. It's where you live now. At least I think you are planning on staying or…were planning on staying."

He thought silently for a few minutes and asked tentatively, "Was the thought of me staying favorable? In your opinion?"

"Well…sure," she answered hesitantly.

He laughed, sarcastically retorting, "I don't know how I could refuse such an impassioned plea for my companionship."

"I do want you to stay. Of course," she said with a half-smile.

"Well so far you've told me that I've declared my love for you, but I've heard nothing of your feelings for me in this…other world."

"It's complicated."

He snickered, looking a lot like the pirate she guessed many people feared. Every time he looked at her, she realized how much she missed the way he used to look at her. "Now that is quite the equivocal answer. Isn't it?" he replied.

"I care about you very, very much."

"I suppose a man who'd declared his love for you would be quite disappointed in that particular response. Luckily for me then, the only thing I love is this ship."

The words hit her like a blunt blow to the chest, and he could clearly see her reaction written on her face. And she could see him, too, the way his tough, uncaring visage softened the moment he sensed that he'd hurt her. Regardless of her words, he could see a glimpse of how much he meant to her.

Almost immediately, he said, "I apologize, lass. I fear my lack of ability to properly navigate a course in these unfamiliar skies, and numerous…," he held up his hook, "changes…have me a bit disconcerted."

"No," she tried to answer nonchalantly. "It's fine."

"It's no excuse for rudeness."

"Hook," she started, correcting, "Killian…Captain Jones…whatever. You think you haven't been a pirate for very long?"

"What does that matter?"

"I'm trying to figure out how far back you've gone. We were told we'd have to atone for our wrongdoings. I think that, maybe, if I can figure out how far back you've gone, we can figure out what you did that you need to fix. Hopefully once we fix it, you'll get your memories back. I had a theory, but now I'm not sure."

"Not long. Weeks since I've taken possession of my ship and rechristened her," he admitted.

"In your memory, did your brother just recently die?"

His head lowered slightly, "Aye. Quite recently. Perhaps it's his death, or my choice to become a pirate that someone's holding me accountable for. If what you believe to be true is true."

"I don't think so," she argued. "You're a good man, pirate or not. You've done really good things, proven yourself, helped people. You have atoned," she leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees as she tried to figure a way out of their problem. Finally, deciding that the only course of action was to continue with their quest, if she could convince him, she said, "Whether you believe me or not…I need your help."

"What's in it for me?" he asked, in true pirate form.

"Your memories. Your life. You know something's not right here. I can tell."

At that moment they could hear a loud thud against the deck above them. Hook jumped up, setting foot on the ladder before he looked at her and ordered, "Stay here."

"What?" she asked, full of irritation. "I can help you!"

"I said stay here," he yelled before he scaled the ladder.

She could hear him on deck for just a moment, recognizing the sounds of a scuffle. She was seldom one for being ordered around, and whatever he was facing, she wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it alone. Without another thought, she followed him. Once she was on deck, she could see large, winged creatures flying through the air. Hook stood near the front of the ship, his sword slicing powerfully through one beast before he turned to the next creature that swooped toward him. He was holding his own against that creature as well, but then she saw two of them flying toward him from behind his back. She jumped the rest of the way on deck, warning him, "Look out!"

He turned, trying to angle his sword, but she feared he'd be overwhelmed. Flashes of magic like white bursts of electricity extended from her palms and held off the creatures until they disappeared into piles of dust at his feet. He looked at her, eyes wide, and she wondered if he was grateful for the help or too concerned with the possibility that she was a witch who'd used magic to dispense of his crew and steal his memory. Before she could figure out his thoughts, he ran toward her, yelling, "Swan!" as he charged forward.

Moving with impressive speed, he went past her, attacking a creature that had come up behind her with his sword and hook, digging into the beast with a motion that was so practiced she guessed it was an instinct that his body still had even if his memory didn't actively recall the ability. The practiced dispatching of an enemy and the familiar way he shouted her name made it seem clear to her that, beneath his loss of memory, the man she'd come to know still existed.

Without words, he turned so they were back to back, walking carefully toward the center of the deck while they surveyed the skies for more threats. "Keep sharp," he ordered. "They're fast."

"What the hell was that?"

"Wyvern," he explained. "I've heard of such creatures but never seen them before."

A loud flapping sound made them both look up, but it was just the sails as they deflated. For a moment, it was as if all of the winds had completely died. As they looked to the sides, even the sea was smooth as glass without as much as a ripple in the water. The calm quiet was disarming as they waited to see what was going to happen next. Then the wind seemed to come back to life, and as it swirled around their bodies and filled the sails, they heard a ghostly voice slowly breathe, "Em-ma."

"That was weird," she blandly answered. "Did you hear that?"

"I did." His hook encircled her arm as he turned her toward him. "I also saw how you dispatched of those creatures," he added.

"Magic. I have some."

"Clearly. And you lied."

"I didn't. I'm not a witch. I'm the product of true love. I just started to learn to control my magic. I didn't do this to you, and I didn't do anything to your crew."

He looked at her worriedly, finally turning away. "Where, exactly, do you think we're headed?"

"We were told to sail into the setting sun to find a passage out of here. After that, we have something that will help guide us," she sighed, contented that the immediate threat was gone. Sincerely, she said, "You saved my life. Thank you."

For a moment she remembered Neverland, and another expression of gratitude. It felt more familiar, the two of them teamed up against a common enemy. He nodded at her, and then said as he put his sword in its sheath, "No gratitude is necessary, I assure you." Sensing her question, he added, "You saved my life as well. Seems we're even."

Disappointment rushed over her. Things had seemed almost normal between them as they battled a common foe, but it was clear he was still keeping his distance. When he'd screamed out her name to warn her and they so easily coordinated their efforts to escape the threat, she'd almost forgotten how much things had changed.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, as he looked for a wound.

"I'm fine," she answered so quickly that it didn't take much to realize she was covering up for something.

"Right," he replied with obvious disbelief. "Well, head below deck for the night."

"You can't possibly be expecting me to go down there and wait like your prisoner," she practically shouted.

He pointed to the hatch to his cabin, and said with polite but stern chivalry, "You'll have my cabin to rest. I insist. Do you think that is how I treat prisoners?"

"I can't sleep right now. You admitted it, I saved you, too. So we're safer if we stick together," she pleaded.

"Is this your way of inviting me to bed?" he teased roguishly.

"Maybe," she replied, suggestively flirting in the hopes that he'd consider it. Her feelings for him were too genuine and deep for casual sex, but she still suspected that if she could just kiss him, true love's kiss would put an end to the whole disaster. She just needed to get close enough.

"Sadly I'll have to decline," he replied.

"You don't trust me yet?"

"Perhaps you're simply not the type of woman I tend to fancy?" he countered.

She smirked confidently, "You probably don't remember my superpower. The one I had long before I discovered magic."

He took his time looking her up and down and said, "Your superpower? Is that what they call…" he gestured loosely at her body, "…this…in your land."

"I can always tell when people are lying."

"Unfortunately I do not have the same ability. And as much as I admit that you're good in fight, there's still little proof that anything you've told me is true."

"Look," she said decisively, pointing past him.

He hesitated for a moment and then cautiously peeked over his shoulder. In the distance there was a narrow strait that separated the sea they were in from the ocean beyond. On either side of the strait were mountains that jutted powerfully into the clouds. The sun was setting perfectly in the space framed by the mountains.

"See…just like I told you," she said. He nodded vaguely toward her but said nothing. "Hey," she started insistently, waiting for him to lift his eyes. As soon as he did, she continued, "You can trust me. Don't give up on me, and I'll prove it to you."

He stepped closer, "Even if I eventually can and do trust you…how can you be certain you can trust the person who told you to take this quest? Maybe whoever gave you this information is leading us to a trap."

"It's possible. But I don't have a choice. If I want to go home, this is my only option for now."

"That doesn't inspire much confidence."

"I've run into situations that weren't what I'd expected before. You know, you once told me that you had never seen me fail. You know why? Because, just like you, I've been through a hell of a lot, and I'm still here. And whatever happens, we adapt. We do whatever it takes. And together…we're pretty close to unstoppable."

A smile flickered at the corner of his mouth as her passion, conviction and powers of persuasion seemed to make an impression on him. "Alright, Swan. You've got your chance to prove yourself."

Emma could almost hear Snow, reminding her of the power of hope and true love, things for which Snow seemed to have an endless reserve of faith. Emma smiled at Hook, and replied, "That's all I ask."

He moved behind the helm and nodded toward the passage before them. "Shall we continue on toward the setting sun, love?"

"I'm ready," she answered. "Let's do this."