#ouatssolo

[hookedxpirate]

he didn't regret it

He stood at the end of the docks, looking out over the sea. The ocean's waters waved and moved in the night's light, the moon cast down over them, the stars twinkling brightly in the black blanket overhead that was the sky. There was an empty spot that had been empty for almost a year now, and it would remain empty. 

But he told himself he didn't regret it. Whether that was a lie or not, Hook still hadn't figured out. He told himself that the empty spot didn't sting every time he looked at it, that it didn't feel like a wound was opening up in his heart that wouldn't be repaired-- Because the price had been worth it. He'd had to do it, had to give it up, because there had been no other way. She's not just a ship, he had told Smee, and he had been right. He hadn't been lying when he'd said those words and now-- now he was coming to realize just how much he'd really meant them. 

Now that she was gone. Truly gone. Not just missing. Not just misplaced. But gone. Given away. All for the purpose of bringing Swan home. Which is something he didn't regret--at least that's what he told himself, over and over, day after day, when the doubts and thoughts would start to creep up again. When he would remember their conversation in the bar and his heart would break all over again. It had been bad enough when there were still questions, still things hanging in the air; when there had been a chance that maybe-- 

But even that, too, was gone. 

So what did he have left? He'd given it all up, for her happiness, and he was left alone, without anything at all. But he didn't regret it--

Did he...? 

[cursedworsethanever]

Already Gone

When the momentary shock and horror of a new looming curse finally wore off, Jefferson found himself materializing from the smoke clothed as he would have been in the enchanted forest, his hair the shaggy cut he'd had back then.  He was surrounded by wood, his house gone, his hate gone, His Grace . . . gone.  A quick circle of the woods surrounding him confirmed his worst fears.  Grace . . .  his Grace . . . was gone.  Again.

"No, . . .  no, no, no, not again.  Grace!"  Jefferson called into the silent woods as an almost hysterical sense of horror filled him.  She'd been right there, smiling back at him from the table, watching him create a hat just for her.  And then . . . gone.   Lost to him . . . . again.

"Grace!?!"  Jefferson screamed her name again, and again.  He screamed till his voice grew hoarse . . . and on until his voice was lost completely.  He fell to his knees then fighting still to call for her, to will her back to him by sheer force of will.  He failed her . . . again.

[hookedxpirate]

something of value [solo para]

Emma: "Those aren't easy to come by." Killian: "They are if you've got something of value to trade."

The night was dark, pitch black with barely a star shining in the sky, the clouds thick and heavy and blocking out any natural light, the new moon hanging empty in the atmosphere. It was silent, save for the sounds of the ocean, the subtle splash of waves as the sea life meandered its way through their home, as a rowboat made its way to shore in the late night, a lantern hanging ahead. 

Then again, perhaps it was best that things were silent and dark; it set the mood just right, Killian still unsure if he was doing the right thing, a part of him--that selfish part--still hesitating over letting go of this final piece. He knew what needed to be done, knew it was the only way to accomplish that ultimate goal (to fill the hole in his heart that (apparently) couldn't be filled in any other way, no matter how he may try). Yet still, Killian couldn't bring himself to be completely sure if he was going about it the right way. 

He pulled out the message again, reading the few short, simple words. Find Emma. Bring her home. It had taken all he had to outrun the curse, all the power of his ship, all his skill as a captain, and he'd very nearly not made it at all. Had it not been for the fair warning from a member of his crew--one he'd left behind to be taken by the curse in the end (to which he still held regret)--he'd have fallen under the purview of the smoke, the spell's reach taking him as well. 

But now was the time for a final goodbye. A final parting. Because he had to get to Emma, had to cross realms to find her, and there was only one way to do that...

"Do you have what I need?" 

"Aye." The short, bald-headed man approached Killian from the shadows, two larger, burly men on either side. Killian was tempted to rest a hand on his blade, but thought better of it. His hook would have to do for intimidation tactics. "Now what would Captain Hook be wanting with a magic bean?" 

"That's my business," Killian said harshly. "Just hand it over--that is, if you have it." 

The short man shook his head. "Not so fast. I have the bean you seek, but you're not getting it for free, Hook." The larger men stepped forward, as if they expected Killian to start to threaten the short one. "Payment, remember? These beans aren't easy to come by." 

Killian sighed. "I know that." This was what he'd been dreading. The moment he knew had to come, because it was the only way, and the moment he knew he'd probably do over and over again--but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. "You can have my ship," he said with a swallow. "She's in the harbor. You won't find a better one than her. A beauty. Made of enchanted wood. Fastest in all the realms--"

"I know well the attributes of your ship, Hook." The short man nodded, his grin of yellow teeth clear even in the night's darkness. The street was clear, but they didn't want to linger long, though there was a pause as the men considered whether to take the offer... "Alright. You have yourself a deal." And he withdrew from his pocket a vial, inside of which was a single remaining magic bean. "Take good care of yourself, Hook," the man said as he tossed the vial Killian's way, Killian catching it without a problem, as the men turned and headed in the direction of the docks to take possession of the Jolly Roger. 

[itsrumple-dearie]

From What I Can Remember || Solo Para

June 11th, 2014

The year between my death and the return of everyone back to Storybrooke is a dark and dreary one. Of course, I died, but Belle and my son, Baelfire, brought me back, using the curse of the dark one. I always say "Magic comes with a price" But no one ever seems to take me seriously. A life for a life. That was the price of the magic that brought me back from the dead. The darkness that surrounded me only got darker. 

Even with my little light, Belle, my brain was muddled. I sat, spinning gold, in a cage. I ate a bit, and tried to talk to Belle, but I mostly repeated how there was no room left in my mind. That the voices wouldn't stop. I'd gone mad. Zelena had tried to give me a potion to remember everything before she brought us all back, but I blacked out and lost it.

Finally we ended back up in Storybrooke, I helped the Wicked Witch with her evil plans. She had my dagger, so I couldn't resist. By the end, through... Sacrifices made by all of Storybrooke, and by killing Zelena, I was free, and married to my darling Belle. Life is simpler now, but something is making me uneasy, something bad always happens in Storybrooke.