Debrief and impromptu strategy meeting complete, the group gradually started to disperse.
It had been a long day–or days, or, who even knew how time worked in this stupid place with no sun?-from waking to the sounds of the lost boys crying, to her run in with Pan and his games, to the Lost Boys' ambush to her very emotional conversation with Mary Margaret–with her mother–it felt like they hadn't had a moment of peace all day.
Emma wanted a friend, an ally, someone she could lean on, who would back her up without trying to fix her.
And so she stayed behind with Hook while everyone else left to set up camp. He got her. He knew what she needed, whether that was an encouraging word, some space to let her process, or even a bit of harmless flirtation.
Who would have thought Captain Hook would turn out to be the person she turned to when she just needed to be herself?
"Excellent show of patience, Love," he said softly, reaching into his pocket, "and that's what defeats a nasty little boy."
"I certainly hope so…" she rolled her eyes goodnaturedly as he produced his flask, uncorked it and offered it to her. "Is rum your solution to everything?"
"It certainly doesn't hurt," he quipped.
Emma watched as he took a long drag from the flask, thinking back to the last time they'd shared a drink together back on his ship. He'd given her just what she needed then too–encouragement after Rumplestiltskin questioned her abilities, a keepsake of Neal's, and a chance for the two of them to decompress and share memories of the man they'd both known and cared for. He just got it.
When he offered her the flask again, this time she took it, taking a quick drink, appreciating the smooth burn of the alcohol.
"So just how did you unlock the map?"
She shrugged, simply answering. "I did what Pan asked."
"Just who are you, Swan?" he asked, giving her an opening, a chance to unburden herself of what he had to know was a very emotional process.
But she'd already had the conversation with Mary Margaret. She'd already made herself vulnerable and bared her deepest pain. No way was she going there again tonight.
No, deep conversation wasn't what she needed. Better to hide behind a little flirtation.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" she purred.
He didn't respond with the innuendo she was looking for, didn't even give her that look she refused to admit made her squirm in the most pleasant of ways. No, for a long moment he remained silent, and then he turned toward her, his eyes sincere, completely genuine.
"Perhaps I would."
Emma's heart pounded as the fear crept in. This was too much, too much. He was too much. The flirtatious, innuendo driven pirate she could handle, but this good man who seemed to genuinely care for her?
Nope. A girl could get lost in those intense blue eyes and forget just what a terrible idea it was to let yourself fall for someone.
Captain Hook was fun, but Killian Jones was terrifying.
And so she did what she always did. She ran. Maybe she didn't need a friend and ally after all. Maybe all she needed was herself.
It was safer that way.