Not Broken At All Chapter 10/?
Summary:
A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.
Rated M
Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
@kmomof4 I really wanted to get this up Saturday for your birthday (since you yelled at me about the last one 😂) but the muse had other ideas so please accept this as a belated gift!
Thank you thank you thank you thank you always @the-darkdragonfly and @elizabeethan for your help with this feral fic 😘
And thank you everyone for the reblogs, comments and replies that give me so much dopamine ❤️
*****
Part 10
“What the hell does that mean?” Emma demands. “How is he here because of you?” He looks at the ground again. “You better start fucking talking, Killian, or I’m going to start thinking things I don’t want to think.”
Another sigh, shameful and bracing. “I don’t think what you’re imagining can be much worse than the truth.”
“Tell me! Why is Henry here?”
“Please know, Emma, I had no intention of hurting your boy. None of this was supposed to happen.” She waits, the fact that she wants an answer from him is the only thing keeping her from lashing out and hitting him, or worse. “I was able to leave Neverland because I made a deal with Pan. He told me where to find the Crocodile, how I could kill him, and that he would let me leave to get my revenge… so long as I returned with something that was also in the Land Without Magic - something he couldn’t find.”
Her whole body is shaking as he reaches into his jacket, pulls out the piece of paper she’d found folded in his pocket at the hospital but hadn’t looked at. He hands it to her and Emma takes it hesitantly, fingers stiff and uncooperative. Pulling the folds apart, she feels a rush of emotions so painful and indecipherable from one another as anger, hurt, fear, and betrayal each struggle to overwhelm her. Because right there, in the centre of the page, is a drawing of her son.
She does hit him then, slamming the paper against his chest as she pushes him back with the heels of her palms, enough to send him stumbling back a step. “What the fuck? You brought him Henry?”
“No,” he shakes his head as she backs away, staring at the drawing in disbelief. Rage, rage is what ends up winning.
“It sure looks like you did!”
“I know.” Killian hangs his head and it pisses her off even more. She wants him to deny it, to defend himself, to give her something to be even angrier about, something to fight with him about. “But I promise you, I never planned on even finding Henry, let alone bringing him to this horrid place. I was going to kill the Dark One and then run for as long as I could. But I failed… and Henry found me.”
Henry had told her how terrified Killian had been when he’d showed up by his bedside. She remembers how he’d frozen when her son burst into the room while he held her at sword-point. She’d felt such pity for him then, the poor, traumatized man who was so terrified of children because of the things he’d seen done to them, because of things she assumed had happened to him when he was young. She was an idiot. What she’d really seen was a man coming face to face with his end of a bargain.
“You expect me to believe you were just going to run from Pan? That you thought he’d just let you get away with it after everything you’ve told me about him?”
“No, and I didn’t. I expected he would find me and kill me. I just didn’t care. After I killed the Crocodile nothing would matter anymore,” he admits. “I tried to warn your boy away from that house, from where I feared the shadow would hunt -”
“But you knew he was watching you. You knew he would come for you, make sure you followed through. You knew he wasn’t safe - that you could be leading him right to my son.”
His face hardens, body tight as she watches him decide whether to lie to her. “Yes.”
Her knife is free of her belt before she even thinks of drawing it, knuckles white against the hilt and Killian looks at it, and at her, his face not betraying any emotion. But when he takes a step forward, his arms out at his sides in surrender, she scrambles back away from him so quickly she nearly trips over the vines and rocks beneath her feet.
“Don’t,” she warns, knife still at her side, and he freezes. “Don’t come anywhere near me.”
“Swan -”
“Don’t.” How dare he call her that - her name that she gave up to spare him the pain of losing the memory of someone he loved, while he was the cause of her own loss. She backs up again, needing to get away, far away from him. She trusted him. She’d believed him when he told her he cared about Henry, when he swore he would get him back. Now she knows that even if he does, it would only be to assuage his guilty conscience.
She drops the paper, turning to head off into the jungle. “Emma, wait,” he calls and she ignores him. “It’s not safe out here.”
“And I’m supposed to be safe with you?” she spits over her shoulder, continuing through the dark foliage, looking for the path.
“Safer than you are with Pan or the Lost Boys.” She can hear him still coming after her, leaves and dirt crunching under his feet.
“Stop following me,” she snaps but his footsteps continue and she turns so she can face him, stare him down with all the hatred and the betrayal that burns through her. “Just get the hell away from me, Killian. I’d rather take my chances with Pan. At least he’s not pretending to be a good guy.”
Something in her words makes him stop, face falling, hurt - good - before the guilt returns and he stays there, letting her walk away. She doesn’t look back as she continues into the jungle, forcing her way through branches and vines that snag on her shirt and hair, blind to where she’s going with the denseness of the leaves and the canopy above shrouding everything in darkness.
She doesn’t know how long she’s been walking when she finally comes to a stop. She should have reached the beach by now but the jungle’s only grown denser, ancient trees with trunks so large she can’t see around them growing closer together the deeper she goes. The paths between them become so narrow that soon Emma worries she won't be able to go any further.
She should turn around, go back. If she retraces her steps she’ll probably at least find the cave again and then she can try to find her way from there. It’ll probably be clearer when she’s not storming off in any direction in blind fury. A small part of her thinks she should have stayed with Killian, that she should go back if only so he can take her to the ship. She may not trust him, but she trusts Wendy and she’s sure the woman would take her side if she told her that Killian had handed her son over to Pan. And Will would likely be a good ally as well.
But she can’t go back. Not to him. She trusted him. Despite herself she let herself trust him, maybe even care a little about him. And then he’d betrayed her, broken her trust and turned out to be a liar, selfish like all the others. He let his history with Gold and his thirst for revenge be more important than the life of a kid - her kid. He risked Henry’s life so he could get what he wanted, because nothing would matter anymore after he killed his crocodile, not to him anyway. No, she can’t go back.
She finally reaches a point in the jungle where the trees won’t let her pass any further. Their roots are woven together, solid branches hanging from others like vines and rooted to the ground. It's as though willow trees had been petrified, every hanging stream of leaves turned to a new trunk that leaves a solid wall of twisting wood she can’t find a way through. The branches are thick, strong and too solid to break, the wall reaching so high she knows she could never climb it.
Of course, Emma thinks. Of course she managed to find a dead end on an island without reaching the water like she was hoping. She sighs, sitting down at the foot of one of the trees, crossing her legs under her and looking up at the branches that climb into the sky and block out the sun.
“Hey, Neverland,” she mutters, picking up a rock and tossing it half-heartedly at the trunk. “You suck.”
“You’ve wandered far from your camp, Lost Boy,” a voice says behind her.
Emma jumps to her feet, turning to face the person who spoke, and the arrow they have aimed right at her heart. Wielding it is a tall, graceful creature, strong and threatening as they eye her.
She would almost assume they were human but they’re somehow… more - longer in height and limbs, sharper in angles, and pulsing with a magic she can see cascading across their skin.
Indiscernibly man or woman, the edges of the stranger’s elegant features shine with gold, dusted against their dark skin beneath loose-fitting clothes. Their hair cropped so short it’s nearly shaved off completely, they watch Emma with eyes so black there’s no separating pupil from iris.
“Wait,” Emma says, stepping forward and then freezing when they draw their bow tighter.
“You’ve crossed the treaty line. Your kind aren’t welcome on our land.”
“I’m not a Lost Boy,” she says quickly and they look her over carefully, narrowing those dark eyes distrustfully.
“Then what are you?”
“I’m… I’m a pirate,” she tries. Her assailant frowns, steadies their aim. Shit, wrong answer. “No, hold on, I, Captain Darling sent me, he wants to -”
“Liar.”
“He’s with me.”
They whirl around, arrow pointed at whoever is coming out of the woods behind them and Emma tries to scramble back against the branches, find somewhere to hide. To her unbelievable relief, Killian emerges from the darkness, hands up in a show of surrender.
“You,” the being hisses in disbelief, and fury, fingers clearly itching to release the arrow.
Killian nods. “Tiger Lily. It’s been a long time.”
“As I recall, I said I’d kill you if I ever saw you again, Hook.”
He swallows. “Aye. That you did.”
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Because I can offer you something better than my head on a stake.” Tiger Lily cocks their head and Killian’s expression darkens, his words spoken quietly as though someone could be listening. “Pan’s.”
The bow lowers slightly. “What do you mean, pirate? Explain yourself.”
“Things are changing, Tiger Lily. You’ve seen the jungle - when has it ever been this wild? Pan’s lost control of it.”
“And?”
“He’s weak. Something’s happened that he’s trying to fix.”
“The child,” they agree.
“You've seen him?” Emma demands. "Is he okay?”
Tiger Lily turns to her, raising a brow as though they forgot she was there. “Who is he to you?”
“I’m -”
“Someone who wants to see Pan dead more than either of us,” Killian cuts her off.
“A bold claim,” Tiger Lily answers, still speaking to her.
“Please.”
Tiger Lily nods slowly, clearly trying to figure out who she is. “Our scouts have seen the new child. He is unharmed.” Emma nearly sobs. It’s the first she’s heard about Henry since he disappeared two nights ago and just knowing he’s unharmed overwhelms her with relief. They turn to Killian then. “But he grows more loyal to the boy with each passing day. I fear soon he will give Pan what he wants if he is not stopped.”
“If we strike now, stop him from seeing his plan through, we could save the child and end Pan’s tyranny. For good.” Tiger Lily hesitates, considering it, bow lowered to Killian’s feet now. “This island could be yours again, the way it was before he stole it from you and forced you to retreat within your walls. We could take it back.”
“Who is this ‘we’ you speak of?”
“All of us. Every clan on the island against him and the Lost Boys.”
“And what of the Fae?”
Killian hesitates. “We’ve just come from the Lorelei and -”
Tiger Lily scoffs. “If you do not have the Fae Queen on your side then you are only dreaming as the boys do. Our knowledge will give you no power against the boy without their magic.”
“Aye, I know. But if we could get them…”
“If you manage to gain the allegiance of the Fae court, then the Constant will consider your request. We have been safe these last centuries. So long as no treaties are broken, the boy does not bother us. I will not risk the lives of my people on your desire for revenge.”
“Fair enough,” he agrees, then gives Tiger Lily a small, cheeky smile. “So, will you let me live long enough to try, love? You can always just kill me later.”
Emma thinks Tiger Lily might be smirking when they answer, “I’ve waited a decade to send this arrow through your heart, Hook. I will wait a few days more.”
Killian chuckles, bowing in thanks and then looking at Emma. “Come on, mate. Captain Darling will be expecting us.”
Emma hurries to cross the space between the wall and Killian’s side. But as she passes, she can’t help herself, turning and taking hold of Tiger Lily’s arm, a look of utter disbelief on their face. “Please,” she says. “You keep watch on the Lost Boys?” Still staring as though shocked by her audacity, they nod. “The boy you said you saw, can you give him a message? Can you get close enough to him to do that without risking your people?”
“We do not meddle in the affairs of the Lost Boys,” they start but Emma cuts them off.
“Please, just, just tell him that I’m coming for him. I need him to know.” She meets the Constant’s eyes, holds their gaze. “Tell him his mother’s coming for him.”
Tiger Lily stares at her, gaping at her words and then looking her over from head to toe. Something shifts then, their rigidness softening and they give a small tilt of their head. “The boys plan to hunt by the edge of our woods tomorrow. Should he break away from the pack, I’ll deliver your message. That’s all I can offer you.”
“Thank you,” she says, finally releasing their arm and walking the rest of the way to Killian who is scowling at her fiercely.
“Do you intend to reveal yourself to everyone on this island?” he hisses as they head into the jungle.
“They all hate Pan as much as we do right? Who cares if they know I’m breaking his rules. Henry needs to know I’m coming for him.”
“The more people know a secret, the harder it is to keep.”
“Yeah, you know a lot about keeping secrets, don’t you?”
He has the nerve to look frustrated. “I told you I didn’t mean to lead Pan to your boy.”
“But you did,” she says, shoving a branch out of her way more aggressively than she needs to.
“Accidentally.”
“Deciding to ignore the consequences isn’t the same as an accident.”
“Swan.” His hook loops around her elbow, pulling her back to face him and she feels renewed fury at the use of her name. He notices, relenting - “Emma” - but not releasing his hold on her. “I’m sorry.” Killian takes a moment to compose himself, like the words hurt him and she thinks he’s not the type to apologize very often. “I knew Pan was looking for Henry and I intended to avoid him at all costs. But Henry found me, and then I thought he would be safer under my protection, that it was better that he stay where I could keep an eye on him should Pan come looking for him.”
“But you didn’t protect him.”
“I tried,” he urges, hook pulling her a fraction closer, making her face him. “I warned him to stay away from that house. I warned you to keep him close, that there were things you didn’t understand about this world. I told you about the bloody shadow and that I was going to try to stop it.” His voice lowering with bitter memory, he speaks the rest through clenched teeth. “And you locked me in a cell for it.”
Emma swallows, remembering Killian’s warning from behind those bars, ones she’d taken as the ravings of a sick man. The fairytales are true, love. You best start listening to the lad or there’ll be darkness coming for all of you. He had tried to tell her - and she hadn’t believed him.
“And still I came back to this godforsaken, wretched place to help you, to help Henry. Everything I’ve done since you came to me in that brig has been to get your boy home, to try and make up for my role in his being here in the first place.” He lets go of her arm then, expression almost pleading. “You can hate me if you want, Emma. But I swear to you I will get your son back, and put an end to Pan so no child is taken again.”
She stares at him, searching his face for any hint of a lie, any trace of insincerity, but there is none. He’s risked everything to get her here, to save her son, was willing to give up his love's name to atone for what he’d done when he was blinded by a hatred carried for centuries. She believes him, believes that he’ll do whatever it takes to save Henry, because regardless of whatever ill feelings he has for her, he cares about her kid, about all the kids on this island, and she can’t find the anger she’d clung to before.
“I don’t hate you.”
Killian lets out a knowing huff, mouth curling in a sad smile. “But you don’t trust me.” The conversation is so familiar, so similar to the one they had only last night, their roles have reversed.
“I want to,” Emma sighs. “We both have a lot of bad blood in the trust department.”
“Aye, that we do.” He pauses for a moment, all of the betrayal and hurt between them lingering in the air. Finally, he settles on something, straightening and meeting her gaze. “Then let me earn yours back, now that there are no secrets. And I will give you mine and trust that you won’t break it now that you know the truth. We’re here for the same reason, Swan,” he says and she doesn't correct him this time. “We want the same thing. At least we can trust in that.”
A part of her hates how easy it is to agree with him, how heedlessly her heart wants to trust this man despite how little she knows about him. But she catches herself nodding, trusting that he’s telling her the truth now, that they need to forgive each other’s missteps if they’re going to survive Neverland and save Henry.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats, looking relieved and letting their newfound, fragile understanding settle between them. “Let’s head back to the ship. Wendy will think we’ve been eaten by the Lorelei soon.” She nods, pensive, following him silently as he leads the way through the jungle, thinking of the mermaids, of Tiger Lily, everything that’s happened in the space of a morning. Of what she’d lost in the space of a breath.
“How does it work?” she asks after they’ve found their way back to the Lorelei’s cave, the howling song haunting from its depths. “Will I just never be able to say my name again? Does it continue in the Land Without Magic?”
“I’m not sure,” he confesses. “Mermaid magic is powerful - one of the only kinds that can travel across realms, so it’s possible.”
“But is it just my name or can I talk about -” she pauses, the end of her question eluding her, like the word is stuck on the tip of her tongue, at the edge of her memory but she can’t recall it. Damn it, she’d had the word in her mind only a moment ago. But now that she’s tried to speak it, it’s as though it’s vanished from her vocabulary. “... I guess not,” she says then. Swan. That was the word. It seems she can remember it so long as she doesn’t try to voice it.
“I’m sorry, love,” he breathes.
“It’s fine. It’s just a name. I can change it if I need to.”
“If that were true then the Lorelei wouldn’t have taken it.” He doesn’t push her for an explanation, to know why the name means so much that it would be her most precious truth, the words only expressed as a gesture of understanding, of empathy.
She doesn’t answer at first, not until they’ve fallen out of earshot of the sirens’ songs. “Will you… Just don’t let me forget it, okay?” The fear that the word will elude her so much that she’ll forget it all together makes her chest tighten, a fear that she’ll lose herself along with the name.
“Aye, Swan,” he nods, the nickname spoken like a promise. “Never.” She can see in the way that he looks at her that an echo of the same fear now lives in him, realizing that if she hadn’t jumped in and taken his place, he may have lost the memory of Milah’s name, and the memory of her. Emma’s glad she did. She knows her loss is more easily born than his.
“What was Ianeira talking about when she said 'the way that things used to be'?” It’s a question that’s plagued her since the caves, though she was too angry to turn to him for answers.
He tenses. “When Pan first came to the island, those who already belonged did not bow gently to him at first. They resisted his rule and his tyranny, not wanting to play his games. But the more children came to Neverland, the stronger he grew, amassing a small army of loyal boys who could not be reasoned with, couldn’t see the consequences of their actions. And Pan exploited that.”
Killian takes a breath and she worries she doesn’t want to hear what happened next. “They called it fishing. A test of strength and bravery for boys who wished to prove themselves, to catch a mermaid and bring back her tailfin.”
Emma nearly vomits - feeling for the sirens she’d only seen as cruel until now. “Couldn’t they fight back? I mean they’re man-eating creatures with bad tempers. Even you’re scared of them.”
He doesn’t deny it. “The boys can’t die - not unless Pan wills it. They can be wounded like Will, with a battle scar, but they’re protected by his magic, Neverland bending to keep them from death. The Lorelei couldn’t have dragged them down into the depths no matter how hard they tried. It went on for decades, hundreds of them caught and mutilated and thrown back in the sea to die - until Ianeira agreed to fall in line, to let Pan rule her and her sisters so long as he put a stop to the fishing, agreeing to kill any boy who interfered with the siren’s lives.”
He tenses again. “There are still reminders, along the south shore of the island where they hunt, petrified tails of fallen Lorelei hung from stakes on the beach - too far inland for the sirens to reach.”
Emma can’t answer. Too sickened, too disturbed by the gruesome history to find words. Their deal makes more sense now - a life for a life - a perceived fair trade for risking a return to the brutality of their past. “And Tiger Lily’s people, he took the island from them?”
“Aye. The Constant were here long before any others, before sirens and fae. Children would come to Neverland in their dreams but they wouldn’t stay. The Constant filled their nights with magic and games by creating living dreams from the shadows of the island.
“But Pan managed to stay - I don’t know how - and he took control of the island, let other boys stay as well. When Neverland’s people tried to stop him, he did as he did with the Lorelei - killed and slaughtered until they surrendered the island to him - the island he turned against them. The Constant had never known death before Pan. They were allowed to continue to live so long as they remained on the territory Pan chose for them. They built their walls to keep him and the Lost Boys out.”
“Did Tiger Lily tell you all this?”
“Aye. They and some of their people when I first found my way to Neverland.” She assumes this was before they decided they wanted to kill him.
“In the stories,” Emma tries to remember, “Tiger Lily was a princess, the daughter of a chief…”
“Perhaps they were, once. But there are no women allowed on the island and the Constant are too close to human for Pan’s liking. They adapted, all of them homogenous, genderless to avoid his attention. He’s still a child in many respects and his ability to distinguish man from woman is superficial at best.”
“Why does Tiger Lily want to kill you?” Clearly they were close at some point if they shared so much of their people’s history with him. Emma wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d slept with them as well, she thinks with a shake of her head.
“A simple misunderstanding,” he reiterates.
“What misunderstanding?”
“Ah, look, there’s the beach.”
Her question goes unanswered as they climb into the little boat and he rows them back to the Jolly Roger. “We’ll have to get the Fae on our side,” he says, pulling back on the oars. “The Constant will never join us without them.”
“Who are the Fae?”
“Fairies. Powerful magical beings.”
“Wait, I thought the Constant were the fairies.”
He shakes his head. “The Fae live by the river on the far side of the island.”
“Okay, but Tiger Lily and their people are magic immortal beings who live in the forest and have some infinite knowledge of the land and could create dreams out of nowhere?”
“Aye.”
“So fairies.”
“No.”
“But they glow! Like literally their skin sparkles gold. That’s pixie dust right? That’s a fairy.”
“No.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms and looking out at the water. “Neverland is stupid.”
“You’ll understand when we visit the Fae Court. Fairies are something else entirely,” he says with an air of respect and even admiration and she can only remember the little coffee cup fairy she’s not sure she’d really seen, who had flipped her off before flying away.
Wendy is there to greet them when they climb back on board, the journey far easier this time with the dinghy hooked up to the little pulley system, Will steadfastly at her side. “Oh, thank god you’re alive,” she says, crossing the deck to meet them. “What happened?” She’s looking them both over, checking for injuries and breathing a sigh of relief when she finds none.
“The Lorelei have promised us their allegiance and their silence,” Killian tells her.
“And what did they want in exchange?” she asks, Emma’s heart racing at the answer she’s not sure she wants to give. The answer that will require explanations, that will birth questions she doesn't want to answer.
“A life for every siren killed should Pan decide to open season on them once more.”
Wendy nods grimly. “It could have been worse.”
“They know,” he continues, gaze casting over to Emma. “About her.”
Wendy’s eyes widen, reeling. “And you’re alive?” she demands, grabbing her arms and looking her over again. “How the hell did you manage that?”
“She can be quite… convincing,” Killian concedes with a raised brow in her direction.
“Tiger Lily knows too,” Emma tells her and Wendy turns on Killian this time.
“What? How?”
“We had a run-in with them in the woods. Swan told them.”
“What did they say?”
“Nothing,” Emma says. “They’re giving Henry a message for me. Tiger Lily thinks he’s becoming loyal to Pan. I can’t let that happen, not if we’re going to stop him from getting what he wants. He needed to know I was looking for him.”
“So you just exposed yourself?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Listen, their whole civilization was forced to hide from Pan behind walls, to change who they were to survive. Something tells me they aren’t going to rat someone out for being a woman when they’ve been hunted for the same reason.” She gives Wendy a meaningful look and the bosun seems mollified, their shared experience shedding light on the Contstant’s understanding.
“Are they going to help?”
“Only if we get the Fae on our side,” Killian answers. “We need to get an audience with the Queen somehow.”
“You could send a message to the Lorelei,” Will suggests, speaking for the first time since they arrived. “If they’re on our side then they could get it to the Fae without anyone knowing.”
“Aye, that could work,” Killian admits even though he seems to hate to say it. “Do you still have the bottle?” he asks Wendy.
“Yeah. It’s in your desk. I held on to it in case I ever… needed to reach you.”
A guilty expression crosses his face as anger darkens Will’s. He sighs, hanging his head, “I’m sorry I was gone so long.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Wendy brushes off his apology, Will taking a step closer to her before she quickly adds. “I’ll go get it. We should send the message as soon as possible.”
She hurries off towards the cabin, Will watching her go for a moment as the three of them wait in silence. When he turns back he fixes Killian with a glare that turns Emma’s blood cold.
“Is there a problem?”
“Pretty rich apologizing for being gone so long when we both know you never planned to come back at all.”
“Captain Darling knew of my intentions. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“Oh, aye,” he snaps, lowering his voice before continuing. “The Captain knew exactly what you had planned, to leave her here alone forever while you went off and lived your life or died. Either way you abandoned her.”
“Watch yourself, boy,” Killian warns, lowering his voice as well so as not to be heard by the few pirates scattered around the deck. “I never abandoned anyone. Darling knew, she agreed. Let’s not start naming vices as I believe your list is as long as mine. Don’t suppose to know her when you’ve spent less than a decade on this ship and she’s been in my care for over a century.”
“Oh, you know her so well,” Will hisses. “Never did wrong by her,” he continues with anger dripping off each word. A silence hangs between them for a heartbeat before the young man speaks again, fixing Killian with a deadly look. “She hears them, you know.” Killian blinks, all emotion vanishing as he stares. “Ever since you left.”
“You lie,” he accuses but it falls short, his voice cracking. The Lost Boys cries, Emma realizes. The ones that can only be heard by those who feel abandoned and unloved.
“I wish I was.”
The silence hangs between them, heartbreaking on both ends, one fueled by guilt and the other by anger - both by love. Emma places a hand on Killian’s arm, an attempt at comfort that he doesn’t shrug off. She knows what it’s like to feel like you’ve abandoned someone you love, she cried over the thought that Henry could hear the Lost Boys last night. Knowing what it is to be abandoned only makes the pain and the guilt more unbearable.
“Here it is,” Wendy says when she returns, handing him the bottle. He takes it from her, jaw clenched and watching her until he can’t seem to anymore and he avoids her gaze, looking everywhere but at the girl he left behind. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lies, lifting the bottle to his lips. Emma frowns at the strange, empty vial as he speaks into it, asking for the mermaids to deliver his request to the Fae Court, to return to him with an answer. He finishes by naming Ianeira and then stoppers the bottle. “That should do it,” he says tightly, turning to toss it into the sea and Emma realizes that he’s just sent an actual message in a bottle.
“How long will it take?” she asks.
He shrugs, distracted. “They’ll go by night, so as to avoid being seen. We won’t hear back until at least the morning. We should all be prepared.”
“For what?”
“The Fae Court isn’t as easily persuaded as the Lorelei,” Wendy answers.
“Aye,” Will adds. “And they can be trusted even less.”
“Less than the mermaids?” Emma blinks and the other woman nods. “How’s that even possible?”
“Because you’ll want to trust them.” Killian is the one to answer this time. “They’re very good at luring mortals in with glamour and fine gifts. They aren’t so good at letting them leave.”
Emma sighs, not really wanting to know the answer. “Do they eat people too?”
He smirks. “No, Swan, they don’t eat people. But they will rob you of your life without you even noticing. You’ll even enjoy it until you realize what’s happened.”
“How?”
“Magic. Even your realm has stories of those who step into the Fae lands and don’t return for decades or centuries, their time away having only felt like an afternoon.”
“Oh, great,” she mutters. Time is the one thing she doesn’t have to spare, not with Henry still in Pan’s clutches.
“Don’t worry,” Wendy tells her. “We’ve fostered somewhat of a relationship with the court these past few years.”
“You have?” Killian sounds surprised.
“Someone had to smooth things over after you left.” The other captain raises a brow and Killian shrinks with guilt - though not at whatever happened with the fairies. “You left many a disheartened fae folk in your wake when you disappeared without a trace.”
Wendy’s fighting a mocking smile and Emma lets her head fall back in exasperation, wondering exactly how many fairies he’s slept with in this court they’re visiting. That’ll be fun to navigate on top of everything else.
“It seems I did more damage than I ever anticipated when I pursued my revenge,” Killian sighs, the sound remorseful and Emma sees the way Wendy looks at him in confusion and Will looks at him with something besides hatred for the first time since she met him.
“It’s fine. Like I said, we managed to patch things up fairly well. And I’ll be coming with you so I can smooth over any -”
“Absolutely not,” he interrupts, causing both women to turn and stare in disbelief.
“Excuse me?” Wendy’s words are a warning.
“It’s not safe.”
“And it is for you?”
“No, but you don’t know how the court can be and it’s too dangerous-”
“I know exactly how the court can be. Like I said, I spent ten years cleaning up your mess, ten years fostering friendship and tentative alliances with the Fae. And despite what you might believe, you’re not actually my father.” He flinches but covers it quickly. “After over a century, and a decade leading in your stead, I chose when I take orders, Captain.”
“And who will defend the ship should the Lost Boys attack or should Pan pay a visit if we’re both gone?”
“Will can do it.”
“Like hell I can,” Will snaps. Wendy turns that same warning glare on him. “If you’re going then I am too.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion. I may not be your captain anymore, but I still outrank you and -”
“You are my captain,” he challenges. “And as your right hand it’s my job to be at your side.”
The two stare each other down with matching glares, something in their standoff feeling deeply personal and Emma jumps in to cut the tension before Killian picks up what she’s pretty sure she’s seeing.
“We’ll all go,” she declares. “Captain Darling’s right. If you burned your bridges you need someone there to back you up. And we can always use another sword,” she nods at Will who blinks in surprise at her support.
Killian narrows his eyes at her. “And you?”
“Are we really going to have this conversation again? I’m his mother. I’m going. It’s not like Pan is going to attack when he just did a day ago, right?”
He pouts, frustrated by her logic before relenting, scoffing a petulant “Fine.” He turns to Wendy. “The fairies won’t be fooled by her.”
“No, they’ll see through the disguise in a second. But they’ve kept my secret this long, and the fact that we’re bringing a mortal woman into their court may be seen as a gift.”
“A what?” Emma has no intention of being offered as a gift to a bunch of fairies.
“Not literally,” Wendy says quickly. “The Fae are trapped here like everyone else and the Lost Boys are forbidden by Pan from entering their territory. Humans are their favourite thing and they’ve been denied them, apart from the occasional pirate, for centuries.”
“So I’m bait?” she clarifies.
“More like enticement,” Will volunteers with a smirk.
“Nothing will happen to you,” Killian promises quietly, with a glare at the younger man. “I’ll stay by your side and make sure you’re safe.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks, grinning wryly even as a warmth spreads through her chest at his declaration. “And who’s going to make sure you’re safe from all those poor, heartbroken fairies?”
He returns her smirk, cocky and suggestive. “I think you’ve seen by now just how persuasive I can be.”
Wendy gags. “Ew.”
***
She’s woken that night by the sounds of the Lost Boys’ cries, their longing wails creeping out from the jungle and down through the deck. Rolling onto her back she stares into the darkness at the ceiling, trying to wish them away, to ignore them and everything they serve as a reminder of. They’re louder tonight than they were last time, and she hopes it’s not because more have joined in - that it’s not because Henry has joined in.
A door creaks open in the hall, footsteps echoing silently through the narrow corridor, someone treading lightly. Another door opening, and then the sound of it clicking shut and she wonders who else is being kept awake. She can’t drown out the sound of the children crying for their mothers, the sound dragging on as she tosses and turns, pillow over her ears.
Finally giving up, unable to lay there in the dark while the sound drowns out everything else around her, she climbs out of bed, pulling her boots on and deciding to at least find somewhere less claustrophobic to be miserable. The deck feels like a good idea, the sea and the stars more comforting than an unfamiliar, dark room that reminds her of so many other unfamiliar, dark rooms she’d been bounced between in her life, reminded of exactly why the Lost Boys sorrow makes itself known to her.
Shutting the door quietly, Emma pauses when she hears sounds of shuffling coming from the room next to her, wondering if Wendy is laying awake like she was, if what Will said was true about her hearing the cries since Killian left. She thinks of knocking, of seeing if the other woman might want company as they both endure the restless night for however long the haunting song lasts. But before she can, another sort of sound filters out from behind the door and Emma has to slap a hand over her mouth to stop herself gasping or laughing in shock. It sounds to her like someone else had the same idea, and Wendy clearly isn’t at a want for companionship or comfort at the moment.
She’s still trying to suppress her giggles, wondering whether it’s who she thinks it is that’s in there with her, when another door opens. Killian steps out of his room, vest and jacket discarded and hair a mess as though he’s done his own share of tossing and turning tonight. Apparently it’s a night for abandoned wandering, she thinks grimly. He looks taken aback when he sees her standing in the hall and turns towards his cabin, hand still on the knob like he might retreat right back into it.
Emma gives an awkward wave, “Lost Boys?” and his shoulders sag.
“Normally I can ignore them but I…” he looks towards the room beside her, where the girl he abandoned sleeps - well, not tonight she doesn’t, but usually.
“You wanted to know if what Will said was true?” she asks, crossing the small space between them so they can speak in hushed voices.
“Aye,” he admits, not looking her in the eye.
“It’s not your fault, Killian. You didn’t mean to be gone for so long.”
“No, I meant to be gone forever,” he challenges. “And she didn’t try to stop me - or I didn’t realize if she did. I didn’t even think how she might… I need to speak to her.” He brushes past and Emma panics, imagining exactly what kind of scene he might walk in on if he opens that door. She grabs his arm, holds him back and he shoots her a frown.
“I don’t think now’s the best time.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Emma scrambles for a moment, ‘because she’s getting laid’ feeling like the wrong answer. So she chooses another truth. “Because she didn’t tell you.” Hurt deepens his frown. “And if you go barging in there and demanding she have this conversation she’s obviously not ready to have, you’ll only make it worse.”
It’s a moment before the slight pull of his arm against her grip slackens, Killian bowing his head in acceptance. “Then when?”
She’s surprised by his question, by the vulnerability in it. Emma knows how it feels to let someone down, it’s part of the reason she’s avoided any real connection to anyone for so long. If nobody depends on you then you can never disappoint them. “Let her come to you.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then you just accept it, I think.” She’s not really sure herself. “And you just do whatever you can to make sure she doesn’t feel that way again.” He only watches her, like he wants to argue. “Look, I know I’m not the best person to be giving out parenting advice but -”
“No, you’re right,” Killian shakes his head. He looks off in the direction of Wendy’s room again.
She doesn’t have words to comfort him, at least nothing he’ll listen to. She knows because she wouldn’t listen to them either. She brushes her fingers over the bruise on his cheek, now a faint yellow thanks to Neverland’s waters, the only kind of comfort she knows how to offer. Her touch draws him back to her, some of the angst replaced by surprise. Emma draws her hand back from his face, the other still holding his elbow - just in case he tries to go to Wendy’s room again.
“You should try sleep,” he suggests, thumb brushing over her arm in a way that’s almost comforting, but leaves goosebumps in its wake. “They’ll stop soon.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been one to fall back asleep,” she shrugs.
“Aye, me neither.”
“I was heading up on deck. Thought things might be a little more peaceful up there.”
He smirks. “Surrounded by a bunch of snoring or drunk pirates? I can think of far better ways to pass a sleepless night.”
His raised brow causes the corner of her lips to tug up in amusement. “I’ll just bet you can,” she rolls her eyes, despite the fact that a part of her thinks it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. And it would definitely get her mind off the Lost Boys. His deepening smirk makes her think he knows she’s considering it.
“I was only going to offer a nightcap,” he promises innocently and she knows it’s a bad idea.
“That’s booze right?”
Killian huffs a laugh. “Aye, Swan. Just a drink.”
She could really go for a drink right now. After everything that’s happened the last few days a stiff one sounds amazing.
“Yeah, okay. What have you got?” He reaches around her to open the door, leaning in and knowing exactly what he’s doing. Emma has no idea what she’s doing as she lets him use such a cliche move to close the distance between them. This is a bad idea. “Careful with the hands there, bud,” she warns as he brushes against her waist, brow raised and lip caught between her teeth against a smile.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he lies and she can feel his breath against her cheek. “I’ve only got the one.”
Before his single, wandering hand can close around the doorknob though, a clattering comes from the room beside hers. It’s quiet, like something being knocked off a shelf or a table, a small cry that could be mistaken for pain but Emma knows definitely isn’t, following. When Killian raises his head, twisting towards the noise, she panics again, needing to stop him from busting in there and probably killing Will.
So she does something unbelievably stupid.
Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she yanks him to her, kissing him hard and sudden. He sucks in a breath, frozen, and she’s just about to pull away, realizing just how bad of an idea this was, before he sighs into her mouth, fingers tangling in her hair, and presses her back against the doorjamb. His lips tug at her own, a nip to one before his tongue flicks out to soothe it, teasing, heart racing and skin heating when he slants his mouth over hers.
Her hand fists in his hair, holding him there, pulling him closer, forgetting this was supposed to be a distraction. No wonder every goddamn creature on this island wants to fuck him, she thinks, gasping when his tongue slides into her mouth and finds her own. His hook wanders the length of her side, catching her hips and dragging them against his and she breaks the kiss before the embarrassing sound that was forming in her chest can come out.
His forehead falls against hers, breathing flatteringly ragged. “What was that for?”
Emma swallows, trying to steady her own breath before shrugging. “Just wanted to see what all the fish and the fairies were so hung up about.”
He chuckles, the sound rolling through her where his chest is pressed to hers. “And?”
“Eh,” she shrugs again, struggling not to smirk even when he does.
“Well, perhaps you can join me for that nightcap and I can attempt to live up to my reputation.”
She worries her lip between her teeth. It’s a really bad idea. This was just supposed to be a distraction. But her whole body is screaming at her to go into that room with him and she doesn’t say no, doesn’t pull away when he takes her hand and pushes the door open with a cheeky grin.
But before he’s even walked inside, he tenses, shoving her back away from him, outside of the room and behind the door before slamming it shut. She stands there, stunned, staring at the slab of wood she hears him lock between them. Then a voice carries over from inside.
“Hello, Hook.”
*******
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