Episode 4x05. Contains allusions to Episode 5x23.
"Reminiscence"
Although he did not show it, Hook was a little apprehensive about taking Henry sailing while Emma worked on tracking down the Snow Queen.
They had gotten along well in the weeks since they returned to Storybrooke, but this was to be their first outing since Henry regained his true memories … and since Hook and Emma officially started dating.
Henry seemed cheerful enough when David dropped him off at the docks. He complimented Hook's new, modern apparel, appreciating that he still looked like a pirate. They found and borrowed a boat to Hook's liking—although he understood the general concept of a motorboat, he still preferred relying on one's own skill and harnessing the water and wind.
Like on their first outing, they sailed along the coast and went ashore at one of the town's small beaches. They made some small talk, but for the most part, they focused on sailing the craft, building a driftwood fire, and simply enjoying the evening. As Hook knew well, silence did not feel empty or awkward when looking out at the sea and sky. Something about the constant motion of the clouds and the waves took away the need for conversation. The campfire they made on shore had the same effect.
When Hook reached for his flask out of habit, Henry surprised him by pulling a thermos and some paper cups from his backpack. "Want some hot cocoa?" the boy asked with a smile.
Hook smiled back and accepted it with genuine pleasure.
While they drank, Hook asked Henry about how he was doing. They had not seen much of each other since Zelena's defeat. Henry was now splitting his time between his two mothers. He had recently re-enrolled in Storybrooke's school, and the entire student body was adjusting to being back after a year away. Hook asked many questions, genuinely curious about what schools were like in this world. His parents had taught him to read and write as a child, and but after that, the only formal education he had received was his training for the Royal Navy.
After talking for a while about himself, Henry changed the subject. "When we first started hanging out, it was so you could tell me about my dad." He paused, looking at Hook, who schooled his features to hide his mixed emotions. "I remember him now, but … can I still ask you questions about him?"
"Of course," Hook said at once. "As much as you'd like."
"Thanks. There are still some things I'm trying to piece together." Henry glanced down at his cocoa, and then at the boat. "You talked about how you taught my dad when he was my age. Was that in Neverland?"
"Aye. Not long after he was separated from his father."
"That makes sense. After you tried to kill my grandpa in New York, my dad showed me how to sail the Jolly Roger to Storybrooke."
Hook was startled. "What? You were there?"
"Yeah. My mom and I went with Mr. Gold to help find his son. That was when we found out he was also my dad."
Hook took in this information silently. A part of him almost felt disappointed, hearing that he was not the first person to teach Henry about sailing. The boy had already shared that rite of passage with his father. To be fair, though, Hook had hardly been a suitable candidate for a father-figure at that time.
He chided himself. He had no reason to feel jealous of Henry's relationship with his father. Someday, though, he might like to have that kind of singular relationship with a child.
"There's something I've wondered about," Henry said. "Before we all went to Neverland, you fought against my mom and my grandparents a lot, didn't you?"
Hook wanted to protest, but even a few seconds' thought was enough time to remember his earliest run-ins with the members of Henry's extended family. Most of them had, indeed, involved violence, deception, or betrayal. "… Aye. That's true."
"So how did you end up becoming friends with them?"
Hook rubbed his face with his hand, gauging how much he was ready to share. "Well, to be honest … Emma had some influence, but when the moment came, it was really because of you and your father."
Henry blinked. "When was that?"
"When Tamara and Greg were trying to destroy the town."
"Oh." Henry frowned. "Wait—didn't you steal the bean they were going to use?"
Hook winced. "You know about that, do you?"
"Yeah. We thought everyone besides me was going to die," Henry said bluntly.
"Well … I was planning to leave, but your mother reminded me that I didn't have to do the self-interested thing. And then I learned that your father was Baelfire." Hook lowered his eyes. "You see, Henry, I … I let him down, a long time ago. Because I cared more about myself, and my revenge, than about anyone or anything else." He met Henry's gaze, which was somber but also sympathetic. "I didn't want to make the same mistake with his son. So I came back and gave the bean to your mother. You had just been kidnapped, so I offered to help find you, and we used the bean to take the Jolly Roger to Neverland."
"You guys were there the whole time?"
"Aye. And as horrible as it was to be there, it brought your family and me closer together."
It had also revealed his and Emma's feelings for each other, but he did not know how to explain that.
Henry smiled in satisfaction at the end of the story. He rotated his cup in his hands. "I never thanked you for bringing my mom and me back to Storybrooke," he said. "Thanks for that. And everything else."
"You're more than welcome, lad." Hook paused, and then decided to address the subject outright. "I don't know if your mother has spoken with you about this, but … I care very much about her. In fact, I have for quite some time, only I wasn't sure if she felt the same way for me."
Henry nodded. "I know. She talked to me before she asked you out."
Hook looked at him for a long moment. "Henry, I want you to know … I don't intend to take your father's place. Your father will always be your father. And I know if he were here, he would try to be the best one he could. But since he can't … what I'm trying to say is, I want to be there for you, and your mother, however I can. Do you understand?"
"Yeah. I get it. I mean, I wish I'd had more time to get to know him. For a while, after we found him, I wanted him to get back together with my mom, but they never really got the chance." Henry straightened up, his countenance brightening a little. "But you know something interesting?"
"What?"
"Back in New York, there's a fountain where people throw coins and make wishes. I haven't told my mom about this, but a few days before you found us, I made a wish there. I could tell she was lonely, and that she wasn't sure how things were going with Walsh. So I wished that our family would be complete. And I think you coming back, and bringing us to our family, was part of the answer."
Hook stared, dumbfounded. Henry smiled at his reaction and took a leisurely sip of his cocoa.
"You made a wish … when you didn't remember anything about magic or the worlds outside this one?" Hook said slowly.
"Yeah."
Hook shook his head, raising his cup. "You really are the Truest Believer," he marveled. "Even when you don't realize it."
They tapped their cups together and finished the cocoa.
When the fire was dying out, Hook stood up. "We should get you home before either of your mothers gets upset that you're out so late."
Henry stood too. "Hey, Killian?"
"Aye?"
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're on our side now."
"As am I."
Henry looked at him anxiously. "That won't change, will it? I mean, if things don't work out with you and my mom … would you still be friends with us?"
Hook's heart contracted in an odd way, like he was both pained and pleased. He put his arm around Henry's shoulders and promised, "I'll be whatever you and your family need me to be."
Henry smiled up at him, and then gave him a proper hug. Hook was surprised, but put his other arm around him, being careful of his hook.
When they let go of each other, Hook cleared his throat. "Right then. Prepare to cast off."
Henry smirked and gave him a mock salute. "Aye aye, Captain."
Hook remained in a happy, hopeful mood the whole journey back. It was comforting to know that he and Henry could still get along well, and that they could speak openly about his parents. And it seemed that Henry did want him in his life, even if it was not as part of his family.
After walking Henry home, Hook headed back to the sheriff's station to check on Emma. He found her sitting in her small office, leaning over a cardboard box set near her feet. When she turned in the swivel chair, he saw that she looked as though she had been crying, or was close to it now.
"You seem vexed," Hook observed. "Like you could use a drink." He passed his flask to her.
Emma rolled her eyes, but she accepted the rum and took a swig. "That's putting it lightly."
He nodded to the box on the floor. "What's that there?"
"What's left of my childhood," Emma replied as she handed the flask back. Her tone was matter-of-fact, unsentimental, but her eyes shone with unshed tears.
Hook had just recently learned, and experienced firsthand, the events that had led to Emma's parents' meeting. But he knew very little about her life prior to her arrival in Storybrooke. Throughout most of the time he had known her, she had been reticent about her past. But things were very different between them now. He knew who she was, and he could not help being curious about the child she had once been.
"May I have the honor?" he asked, gesturing to the box.
He knew that for Emma, this was asking a lot. But after looking at him for a moment, she turned and lifted the box onto her desk. She took the lid off, rummaged around, and removed a small, thin, rectangular box, holding it with as much effort as if it were full of heavy goods. She seemed to be bracing herself, trying to hold herself together.
"Are you okay?" Hook asked, watching her with concern.
"I think so," she answered, handing the small box to him. It was not exactly a reassurance, but at least it was not a denial.
He opened the box, and then glanced up at her with an incredulous grin. It was full of small odds and ends, mostly jewelry and some bits of paper.
There was a pair of eyeglasses with thick brown rims. Hook knew from Emma's complaints about them that she now wore something called contact lenses, a kind of vision correction device that was placed directly on one's eye.
He could tell most of the jewelry was cheap stuff, nothing of great worth, but he guessed they had some sentimental value. He picked up a ring with a pretty but artificial looking gemstone, and wondered if it had been a gift from someone important.
Underneath the trinkets were some pieces of paper or other flat mementoes. He picked up one, and froze as he looked at it.
It was a picture of Emma and Neal, their faces only inches from each other, smiling widely. They both looked happier than Hook had ever seen either of them.
He had to swallow down a sudden lump in his throat, and had difficulty tamping down the mixed emotions the image stirred within him in the space of a few seconds.
He understood why Emma would keep such a souvenir. He had gotten Milah's name tattooed on his skin soon after her death, and he had held on to her self-portrait for centuries. But the picture captured more than just Neal's likeness; it showed what Emma had been like back then, and how the fugitive lovers had felt about each other.
The younger Emma's expression held a kind of innocence that Hook had never seen in her personally. The girl in that picture had not been betrayed by her first love, spent time in jail, become a mother out of wedlock, or parted with her child.
It was clear from their expressions that, for a time, Neal had made her happy—unquestionably, unmixedly, unreservedly happy. Emma had never smiled at Hook that way, with pure, openhearted joy. It was hard not to feel insecure about that. Although Emma had begun to understand how much Hook cared for her, and held respect and gratitude toward him, he was still not sure whether he actually made her happy.
When he looked up, he saw Emma watching his reaction. He gave her another smile, this one reassuring, if a bit wistful.
She heaved a deep breath, and took out another item from the cardboard box: a crocheted blanket bearing her name in purple embroidery. Then she paused, put down the blanket, and picked up a device that seemed to be made of gray plastic. She left the small glass-walled office and went into the main room of the station. Hook followed her in mild bewilderment, watching as she connected the device to the television.
"I haven't watched this since I recorded it," Emma explained, her voice husky, "but some things happened today that made me think about the past." She sat next to him on the edge of the desk, facing the television.
"Reflective today, are we?" Hook said half-jokingly, trying to smile. Emma did not answer, and he reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. "Hey. Show me. I'd love to know more about your beginnings," he said sincerely.
Emma obliged, and they watched as an image came into focus on the screen.
The video footage showed two young girls, perhaps in their early teens. One was clearly Emma, her blonde hair and hazel eyes unmistakable, though she looked even more youthful than in the photograph, her cheeks rounder and rosier. The other girl had dark hair and a face Hook did not recognize.
"Who's that lass?" he asked.
Emma's voice was barely a whisper, and her eyes never left the screen. "Just an old friend."
Clearly, there was more to that story, but Hook did not press her for details. If she wanted and was able to share it, she would do so in her own time. But from the way she was acting, and the look on her face now, he had a hunch that it was someone she had lost in some way.
He knew, from what she and the others had told him in Neverland, that Emma had lived with many different people over the course of her childhood. Some had cared for her, others had neglected or rejected her. Apparently no one had wanted to adopt her permanently—a fact that Hook could not fathom: who would not want Emma, if they had the chance to have her in their family?
As hard as his own childhood had been, he had always had Liam. His brother had provided him with the protection, companionship, support, and encouragement he needed as he grew up. But Emma had been alone in this world, with no one to rely on but herself. He could not imagine it.
Without letting go of her hand, he lifted his arm over her head and put it around her neck. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Hook registered that, aside from a couple near-death experiences, it was the first time she had ever turned to him for comfort.
He could not change her past, or remedy its results; but he could be there with her as she looked back on it, and she seemed to appreciate that.
The image on the screen changed abruptly, showing a teenage boy's taunting face. Then it showed Emma again, angry and indignant at the boy who had taken her camera.
"I don't remember any of this," Emma said, gaping in perplexion.
Suddenly, another person entered the picture, her familiar voice sounding from the speaker.
"Bloody hell," Hook breathed. He was so shocked that he let go of Emma's hand, his arm slowly dropping to his side. "Is that …"
Emma held up the remote, pausing the video when the woman's face filled the entire screen.
"Yeah," Emma gasped.
It was the woman they had nicknamed the "Snow Queen." The one who owned the ice cream shop. The one with powers like Elsa's. The one who had almost killed Hook just a few days earlier.
That woman had been Emma's guardian? Had she been a foster parent, or even a stepmother? How had she gotten into this world, and been able to live outside of Storybrooke? And why couldn't Emma remember a bloody thing about her?
It was too late at night to muster their friends and allies, but Emma was determined to show it to them the next morning.
While she stepped aside to call and text her family, Hook fiddled with the camera and television. The image of the Snow Queen putting her hand on young Emma gave him an unpleasant chill and twisted his stomach in knots.
What might she have done to Emma back then? And what did she intend for her now?
Author's Note: I feel like Hook and Henry had to have a conversation about his parents at some point, and their first outing together, mentioned but not shown in this episode, seems to me the most logical time.