Episodes 2x05-2x06
"Accomplice"
Emma had barely had any time to process the reality that everyone in Storybrooke was a fairy-tale character, before being dragged to their land and meeting even more of them. She was still trying to reconcile her prior understanding of those characters with the people that she knew.
This man, Killian Jones, was just one more example of those characters who did not fit the profile she had known of growing up. This Captain Hook was far more playful and devil-may-care than the book or movie versions. He also looked and acted much younger (though Emma now knew the appearance of age could be deceptive—her own parents looked no older than she was).
Emma had known other boys and men like him—the type that constantly teased and flirted, taking women's indifference or rebuffs of their attention as an invitation to try harder for a response. She knew what it was usually about. He was trying to draw her out, or rile her up, get her to lower her guard, or simply distract her from the task at hand. And in this case, doing so could be fatal.
She had to wonder if he was always this much of a ladies' man, or was turning up the charm just for her. Were there even any grown women in Neverland? Had he fooled around with the fairies or mermaids or whatever else came closest?
It didn't matter, she reminded herself. She was not going to flirt with Captain Hook. And she certainly was not going to spill her guts to a mercenary who might turn on her at any time. He was working with her now simply because it was convenient for him, conducive to his own survival and personal vendetta. The fact that he had been allied with Cora and might still betray them made it all the more imperative not to take his bait.
It was harder when he made such unnervingly accurate guesses about what her life had been like. He knew that her mother was on the ground, but he claimed that he could see in her eyes that she had been abandoned, an orphan, unloved for most of her life.
For a moment, his tone became almost serious, and rather challenging, as he asked her a strikingly direct personal question. "Have you ever even been in love?"
Emma had neither the time nor the desire to get into that painful topic. She could have turned it back on him with a "What's it to you?"or "Have you?" but she would rather have dropped the subject altogether. So she answered simply, "No. I have never been in love." She meant it to sound dismissive, but it came out sounding a bit wistful.
It was mostly a lie, but might not have been entirely. At the time, she had thought what she and Neal had was love. But if that were the case, Neal would not have left her. After that, she had never gone further than a first date or one-night stand.
The only other time she had opened herself to romantic feelings was just moments before Graham died in her arms. Emma paused, feeling nauseous, as she realized that Henry had probably been right about Regina being responsible for Graham's death. When he had started to remember his fairy-tale identity—and to favor Emma over Regina—since she could no longer control him, she had destroyed him. That made Emma partly responsible, as the one who had caused his death.
The last time she had opened herself to a new friendship was after August Booth came to Storybrooke. She had gone along with his eccentricity until he tried to convince her of the truth of Henry's theory. By the time she had come to believe, it seemed to be too late for him. She had no idea what had happened to him since she broke the curse—there had been too much going on that day, and she had been pulled into the portal before she could check on him at Granny's. She could only hope that he was no longer made of wood.
Despite her best efforts, her mind returned to Neal again and again throughout the trip. Besides the discussion of love and Hook's obvious flirting, something about this situation reminded her of her time with Neal. He was the last person with whom she had carried out any kind of heist. It was not a nostalgic or comforting thought. Once she had helped him get what he wanted, he had left her and set her up to take the fall for his crimes.
She wanted to believe Hook might be different. But however much she wanted to believe, she could not afford to be wrong. The stakes were far higher now than they had been with Neal.
She only started to soften toward Hook, however slightly, when she caught sight of the tattoo on his arm. She deduced the truth about his past just as quickly and accurately as he had hers. It seemed he had also known love and lost it.
She could easily believe that Gold—Rumplestiltskin, she still had to remind herself—had killed a woman. He had nearly beaten Mo French to death, had probably kept Kathryn Nolan captive, and risked Henry's life by double-crossing his mothers. Emma could hardly blame Hook for wanting revenge; she herself had sometimes wished she could hurt or kill Gold, even when she thought he was just an old miser.
Thinking about Storybrooke and its residents, Emma could not picture Hook's arrival there being a good thing. She still owed a favor to Gold, and he would not be pleased if she brought back an old enemy of his. Henry might be excited by the idea of meeting a pirate, but there was no way Emma was going to let them meet if she could avoid it.
Hook may have been the enemy of a villain, but he was no hero, either in stories or in the person now in front of her. Emma saw the hatred and malice in his eyes when he spoke of exacting revenge. She could tell he was deadly, and determined enough that he might go to any lengths to get what he wanted, no matter who else might get hurt.
Even if he was not like the villain in the stories, he must have done terrible things to earn such notoriety. He practically acknowledged this as he goaded the giant: "I'm the worst human around!" Emma had no idea how much blood he might have on his hands—or rather, hand and hook.
He had courage, as he was willing to be the one to distract the giant. But his greed came on full display when they entered the treasure hoard. The hall full of gold must have looked like paradise for a pirate.
Emma was almost glad that he was out of the way when she faced the giant. It was simpler to negotiate one-on-one, and it gave her a solution for the dilemma she had been wrestling with: how to get down the beanstalk after they reached the goal that had tied them together.
They had a long climb down, which would give Hook plenty of time to turn on her and make it look like an accident. And even if he did not take that opportunity, what would happen when they reached the ground? If it came down to choosing between Cora and the others, which side would Hook choose? He had told them outright that he would swear allegiance to whoever would help him get to Storybrooke. He was motivated solely by his own desire for revenge, not love like Mary Margaret, or a sense of honor like Mulan, or to make amends like Aurora.
Emma could not give him the chance to take the compass and leave her—or worse, get rid of her. She could not afford to be killed, detained, or even simply delayed. The stakes were too high, with Cora hunting them and searching for a way to Storybrooke. They could not let her get there.
Henry was Emma's priority, and she also had the welfare of her parents, the people she had just recently started to consider friends, and an entire town to worry about.
She knew by now that her "superpower" did not always work. She had been completely wrong about Neal's character all those years ago. She had missed all the signs pointing to Henry's theory over the last several months. And just days ago, she had misjudged Cora to be a harmless old woman and been deceived by her impersonation of Lancelot.
So, despite all Hook had done to help her, she could not allow herself to trust him, no matter how much she saw herself in him or would have liked to know him better. She could not afford to let anyone else into her heart, especially if they might put the others at risk.
She had been right all those years ago, more than she had known at the time. Tallahassee was no more attainable than Neverland. Both might be real places, but they would never be what she had once hoped or wanted them to be.