Episode 3x11. Contains allusions to Episodes 3x12 and 3x17.

"Purpose"

Hook knew what he needed to do to obtain a magic bean. And he knew that his reasons were well worth the price.

But that did not make it any less painful to gesture to the Jolly Roger and ask Blackbeard, "Do we have a deal?"

Blackbeard did not need to be asked twice. He wanted the ship back, and he relished the chance to humiliate his rival. His only hesitation stemmed from incredulity that Hook was willing to part with the ship, after going to such lengths to steal her back.

Hook was allowed one final sweep of the vessel before disembarking for the last time. He emptied her of all the personal effects that mattered, stuffing his pockets with coins and tools and trinkets. He picked out the smallest possible piece of the ship, a small circle of wood from the rigging, to keep as a souvenir. He ran his hand over the many familiar textures: the cold glass of the portholes, the rough ropes and weathered wood, the desk Milah had used for drawing and sewing, the initials he had carved for Baelfire to remember port and starboard. Every plank of enchanted wood seemed to have countless memories associated with it.

After an adolescence in which he did not have much power, the Jolly Roger had been the one place where Hook was fully in command of himself and other people. He had, in essence, come into his own on this ship. It was where his career as a pirate began, and where most of it took place.

Hook and his crew had enjoyed countless parties and contests, stories and songs, dances and games on this vessel. They had waited out the doldrums and wallowed in their misery as years passed by in the timeless waters of Neverland. They had fought duels and battles, carried out raids, and held burials at sea for their fallen mates.

But the ship also held memories of other singular people. It was where Liam and Milah had died, where Hook had bonded with Baelfire, where Emma and her family had reunited with Henry.

Owning the Jolly Roger had enabled them to rescue Henry; but now, trading her would give him the chance to help Emma.

Hook felt a little sorry for leaving Mr. Smee behind, but he had hardly any regret for the rest of his crew. Most of them had previously been in Blackbeard's employ, and only joined Hook because the alternative was to follow their captain off the plank. They never would have understood the reason for his present actions. It was one thing to pursue a lady's affection, but it was quite another thing to give up one's greatest treasure and livelihood for her.

Truthfully, it had been harder to leave Snow White, David, Neal, and the other Storybrooke folks in the Enchanted Forest than it had been to leave his crew.

While the royals prepared for their journey to Regina's old castle, Hook and Neal had gone aside and conferred about their plans. Hook's one desire at that point was to find his ship, and he asked if Neal would join him. But Neal was set on finding a way back to Emma and Henry, and he believed the best chance of that was to search Rumplestiltskin's old castle. Hook sympathized with this goal, but could not agree with the means. He firmly believed the world was better off without the Dark One, and he had no interest in getting mixed up with magic again. So they had said goodbye, wishing they could say or do something more.

Although he had not shown it, Hook was sorry to leave David and Snow. He had only just won them over, going from hated enemy to tolerated ally to trusted friend in the space of a week. He had grown accustomed to their presence, and come to respect them more than he ever had any monarch. But he knew he would not be able to look at them without thinking of Emma, and he did not want that constant reminder. He was going to miss her enough without it. He thought it better to make a clean break and go back to doing what he did best, what he had done before he met Emma—as if anything could be the same after everything that had happened since.

With Rumplestiltskin gone, Hook had no vendetta to carry out; and with Emma and Henry a world away, and their relatives each on their own paths, he had no friends or allies to aid. With no prospects of love or revenge, he had nothing to fight for but himself.

He was not proud of his actions during the intervening year, particularly when it came to his reacquisition of the Jolly Roger. Believing he would never see any of his heroic friends again, he had not seen any point in holding himself to a moral standard. He had believed that being in command of a ship again would give him a sense of purpose, and that being in the familiar environment would help him feel at home once again.

It did not work. He still missed Emma, still felt empty without her and her family around, and still mourned what had never really been his to lose.

He had gone over their last conversation countless times in his mind, the same way he used to recall his last moments with Liam, Milah, and Baelfire. When they said their goodbyes, he had been far more reserved than he would have liked, knowing that his feelings were one-sided and that her family—including her child and his father—were just behind them. He had also known that she was far more upset about losing her parents than about losing him. So he had kept his words few and frank. She had seemed pleased when he said he would think of her every day, as though she was glad that she would have a lasting effect on him.

He had spoken the truth. He thought about her every day, whether or not he meant to. When he was successful in a venture, he could picture her rarely seen, often grudging or ironic smile. When he did something morally questionable, he pictured her look of reproach and frustration. When he did something foolish, he remembered her sharp voice reproving him.

And finally, when the bird arrived on his ship with a distress message and a memory potion, he remembered how she had looked and sounded when she appealed to him, entreating his help. The appeal may not have come from Emma herself, but it was asking for the same effect: helping her save the people she loved.

What Hook had felt upon reading the message was a strange mixture of emotions: fear, but also hope and purpose, for the first time in a year.

There was never any question in his mind about whether or not to do as the note said. It was only a question of how. And as he walked away from the Jolly Roger for what he knew to be the last time, he held the means in his hand: a magic bean.

When the portal opened, he thought of the Land Without Magic, and tried to be as specific as he could be without knowing the exact destination: Take me to where Emma Swan lives. Then, he jumped.

He landed in what seemed to be a gated courtyard, with a few trees and a brick walkway leading up to a large but plain-looking building. He went up the steps to the door, and there found a panel with a row of buttons, each one accompanied by a label bearing at least one name.

He scanned the list, and there it was, in black and white: Swan.

This was it. This was where Emma and Henry lived.

He was finally there, about to see them again—and he found himself hesitating.

Would they have changed in the past year? Hook knew that some of the denizens of Storybrooke looked very different from the people they had been in the Enchanted Forest, with their false memories creating false personalities. Might Regina's false memories have had a similar effect on Emma and Henry? Would he even recognize them? Their true selves must still be inside them, even if they needed to be drawn out.

The more pressing problem was that they would not recognize him, nor would they be likely to believe his reasons for coming. Even Henry, the Truest Believer, no longer believed in magic or any of the stories of his family's history. He and Emma both needed their memories restored, and the bird had only brought one dose of memory potion. If Hook could get one of them to remember on their own, then they could give the potion to the other.

Racking his brain for possible ways to undo such magic, he could think of only one: true love's kiss. He knew it was a long shot, but if there was any chance that Emma had reciprocated his feelings, then a kiss might jog her memory.

Worst case scenario: she attacked him and found some way to harm or imprison him. He knew there was a fair chance of this. She had done such things to him on multiple occasions, as if making a habit of it. It was almost comical, except that Hook now understood that it stemmed from her fear of being hurt. And, to be fair, he had once been the kind of person who did not care much about hurting others.

Best case scenario: she remembered him immediately, fell into his arms, and led him to her bed. He knew that was wishful thinking, too much to hope for in reality.

The most likely scenario was something in the wide range between those outcomes. Even if—when—she remembered him, she might not exactly be happy to see him, to have her new, normal life interrupted and threatened by an unknown danger.

But even if she blamed him for the rest of their lives, he knew it was the right thing to do, for her as well as her family. He knew who she was, and the Emma he knew valued truth over lies.

He knew his mission, and he had reached his destination. There was nothing left to do but knock.

It took a couple tries before he heard movement inside the apartment. Finally, the door opened—and there was Emma.

She looked just as he remembered her—if anything, only more beautiful. She looked healthy, too, like she had taken good care of herself. She was wearing modest, comfortable pajamas, and she seemed more at ease than Hook was used to seeing her, not harried by the anxiety of a crisis.

Of course, that changed the second he snapped out of his initial, happy stupor. She had opened her door with an expression of blank confusion, but when he stepped toward her, she was immediately alert and on edge.

Though he tried to sound reassuring, his words came out in an emotional rush. Then he took what may have been the most foolhardy risk in his entire life: he kissed her.

He barely had time to register how it felt before it was overshadowed by the pain of her blow. She really knew how to make a man hurt, physically as well as emotionally.

She ignored his attempt to explain, gasped out a final threat, and shut the door on him and locked it.

He could have broken it down, easily, but he knew that would do the opposite of gaining her trust. So instead he stood there, and then rested his forearm and forehead on the door as he slumped against it.

Despite how much had changed, some things were the same. Chief among them was Emma's instinct to protect herself and her son from any perceived threat. And even the sting of her distrust and rejection was familiar, despite the different circumstances.

Well, Hook thought grimly, he had come too far to give up. In fact, he didn't think he could give up where she was concerned. He had already staked everything on her—that was, on the task of helping her. And he knew in his heart that she was worth the trouble, worth the various kinds of pain it caused him.

He thought about breaking in and slipping the potion into something she could eat or drink, but that seemed dishonest and cowardly. He realized, now, that she ought to be prepared before regaining her memories, and it ought to be by her own choice.

Once he was outside, he passed through the gate and took a look at his surroundings. Beyond the fence were tall buildings and dozens of people and vehicles passing by in the street. It was a loud, busy, drab-looking place.

Hook had only been in one city like this—and sure enough, he saw the name New York City on the side of a passing vehicle. He was in the same city where Neal had lived, where Hook had tracked down Rumplestiltskin a year earlier.

How much had changed since then. Hook winced as he remembered it. He had pushed Emma aside in order to get close enough to plunge his poisoned hook into the crocodile. She had then knocked him out and left him tied up in a closet.

Come to think of it, Neal's apartment was the only other place in New York that Hook really knew, and which had a connection to Emma and Henry's forgotten past. Perhaps being there again would help jog her memory, or show her something that supported the veracity of Hook's claims.

That would be his next move: convincing Emma to visit the apartment. If she did that, and was willing to learn the truth, then he would offer her the potion.

If she refused … well, he would have to keep trying.

Emma was her family's only hope. And now, whether she knew it or not, Hook was her only hope.

Author's Note: I struggled to figure out the structure and flow of this chapter; it goes against my instinct to describe events out of chronological order, but I thought it made the most sense for Hook's train of thought in the context of his return trip. Please let me know your thoughts!