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“Mother! What have you done?” Regina hissed, goggling at the wide-eyed little boy who now stood where Hook had been just a moment ago.
Cora looked at her with a puzzled frown, seemingly nonplussed by her daughter’s negative reaction.
“Really, dear, he’s far too stubborn for his own good. The dagger will be mine. Besides, you said you wanted a child.”
“I have a child. Really, Mother, children aren’t like gloves or parasols, to be matched with different outfits.”
“A child you have to share,” she said dismissively. ”This one’s birth mother is long dead. He’d be all yours. I could even alter his memories so he’d never know he wasn’t.”
Regina closed her eyes in frustration. Dealing with her mother was never easy, but she was, briefly, tempted. A child she could have all to herself…
“Do we really have time for this?”
Cora raised a hand in the boy’s direction, “Well, if that’s how you feel -”
“Please. Allow me.”
With a seemingly negligent wave of her hand, she sent him away. Miss Swan wanted to play sheriff? Fine. Let her handle it.
Emma, sitting at her desk typing up a report, frowned and saved her work at the sound of a soft little “Oh” from over her left shoulder. Turning in her seat, she found the source of that sound.
“Hey, Little Guy! Where did you come from?”
The boy suddenly standing near her took a quick step back. He had unruly dark hair and big blue eyes. He caught his lower lip between his teeth, looking at her and tilting his head like an inquisitive bird. She couldn’t help feeling like she was being weighed to the ounce.
“It’s okay. You just startled me.”
Emma felt a sudden wash of déjà vu. His presence here, a child where none had been, reminded her of her first encounter with Henry. He was clearly a few years younger, though. Then, taking a closer look at him in his dark suit of clothes (and were those actually knee pants?), right down to his sturdy little boots, she realized he reminded her of someone else as well. The image of a certain dangerously sexy pirate captain came alive in her mind. He’d introduced himself, hadn’t he, with his real name? What was it now?
“Killian…”
Emma didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud, until he startled in response.
“Do you have magic, milady?”
Oh, wow. His voice was softly accented, light and lilting; not as clipped or precise.
“Uh, well, yeah, actually, but that’s not…There’s… uh…this guy I know. So, your name’s Killian.”
It was clear he had no memory of her, or the man he’d become (assuming they were one and the same), and, yeah, it stung a bit.
“Aye. Killian Augustus Fitzwilliam O’Dell.” Then he jerked forward in an awkward little bow.
Holy crap. His name was longer than he was tall. Wait. O’Dell, not…? She shook her head. It didn’t matter now.
“It’s nice to meet you, Killian. My name’s Emma Swan. I’m the sheriff here. You’re at the sheriff’s station. ”
He gave her a shy smile.
“I like your name, Miss Emma.”
“Thanks.” Despite her suspicions, she had to observe the formalities.
“Do you know where your parents are?”
“Nanny says Mummy’s with the angels now, so I’ve got to be brave and carry on as best I can.”
Ouch.
“What about your dad?”
He shrugged.
“Do you know how you got here? I didn’t hear anyone come in.”
“There were two ladies. One had red hair. Her mouth was pinched and mean. The other had dark hair. She wore a suit with trousers.”
“Did either one call the other by name?”
“The dark-haired one was younger. She called the older one ‘Mother.’ She waved a hand at me then I was here.”
Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the news. Cora and Regina, quite literally up to their tricks.
“Do you know these ladies, Miss Emma?”
“Yeah,” she said with a long-suffering sigh.
“You don’t like them.”
It wasn’t a question. She answered him anyway.
“Not especially, no.”
That seemed to decide something for him. He sidled closer to her, with a conspiratorial air.
“I don’t like them either.”
He frowned then, an awfully serious expression for one so young. Emma felt a smile tugging at her lips.
“I, I’m not really sure they like each other. They both seemed quite cross. I don’t… Is that right?” His tone of voice suggested that this idea simply Did. Not. Compute. In his world, you loved your mother and she loved you.
Emma saw the hurt in his eyes, before he dropped his gaze to the floor. She silently cursed herself for bringing up the subject of his parents, though of course she hadn’t known. She had to do something to make it up to him.
“You picked up on that, huh? Good job, Sport. You know, I feel like treating myself to a snack. You in?”
He looked up at that.
“Oh, yes, please.”
Emma rose to her feet and offered him her hand. He took it and she gave him a reassuring squeeze before leading him back to the breakroom. She started gathering supplies while he looked around in amazement. She fished a foil packet out of the small box she’d set down on the counter, and pulled it open.
“Frosted Pop-Tarts.”
“That’s right, Scamp. This here,” she gestured at a small gleaming white box, “is called a toaster,” she angled it towards him, so he could see it better. “It’s got these two slots in the top. You get two Pop-Tarts in a pack. They go in the slots, like this. Now, you press down here,” she nodded at him, so he pushed the lever down ‘til he felt it catch, “then the toaster heats ‘em up. When they’re done, they pop back out again.”
“Two Pop-Tarts, two slots, two of us!”
“Exactly.” She crossed over to the fridge, opened it, and reached for a quart of half-and-half. Then she stopped and looked back at him. She’d been in a group home with a couple of kids that were lactose-intolerant. “Do you drink milk?”
“Nanny sometimes makes me a posset of warm milk, if I’ve had a bad dream.”
Emma shook her head. ‘Posset’ was a new one. She got out the milk and filled one of the mugs. What little was left in the carton wasn’t really enough to save for later, so she dumped it into the other mug, and fixed herself some coffee.
“I could get you some paper and a box of Crayons while we’re waiting.”
“Crayons?”
“Colored sticks of wax. So you can draw. Would you like that?”
“Aye.”
Emma hadn’t expected to find Crayons stashed away in the supply closet when she’d done a quick inventory, but she was sure glad of it now.
“Here ya’ go,” she said a moment later, setting the stuff on the table in front of him.
“Thank you.”
He sat down at the table, reached for the box and pushed open the flap. He took a moment to admire the colors while deciding where to start, then flashed her a dimpled grin that nearly took her breath away.
She sat down next to him and sipped at her coffee while he worked, his dark head bent over his paper. She’d missed this… and so much else besides… with Henry. It stung, a lot.
He was on his second drawing when the sound of the toaster startled him.
“Easy there, Tiger.”
She got up from the table, paused to rest her hand on his shoulder for a moment then went to fetch their treat. She came back with two paper plates of warm, gooey goodness. She set hers on the table first while he tidied up his place then set his in front of him. He started to reach for it.
“Careful, Scamp. That’s gonna be hot, so give it a minute.”
Still standing, she caught sight of his drawings.
“Is that…me?”
“Aye.”
She sucked in a breath, feeling the prickle of tears behind her eyes. He looked up at her.
“Miss Emma? Have I upset you? I didn’t mean to.”
“No, it’s… it’s ok, Sport. Really. I’m fine.”
Needing a distraction, she resumed her seat, picked up her snack and started nibbling at one corner. Killian soon followed suit.
“Well, whaddya think?”
“It’s nummy.”
“I like ‘em too. Why don’t you tell me something else you like.”
“I like to ride my pony. His name is Pootle. Father brought him home for me when I was four.”
“So you’ve been riding since you were four? Wow. How long is that?”
“Almost three years. Do you like to ride?”
“I haven’t had much experience with it, really. I’ve only done it once, so far.”
“You’re too big to ride Poot, or I’d let you, if… if I could. How am I to get home, Miss Emma? Could you send me back, with your magic? Would you?”
She took her time in answering.
“I’m afraid it’s not so easy, Skipper. It’s like riding. Young as you are, you’ve had more practice than I. Well, it’s the same with magic. Those two, Cora and Regina, they’ve had way more practice than I have in that area. I’m pretty sure one of them is responsible for your current situation, and I can’t just go and ask them to undo it. If I try to undo it myself, well, I’m not sure I could. Now that doesn’t mean we’re giving up. Once we’re done eating, I’ll see what I can do. Deal?”
He thought about it a moment, nodded, and went back to his treat. They sat in companionable silence until the last crumb was gone and their mugs were empty. Emma rose to her feet and gathered up the detritus. She took the mugs to the sink and rinsed them out. Then she dampened a paper towel, crossed over to the table and handed it to Killian. He used it on his hands and face without making a fuss. Then she pointed to the trash can, so he got up and threw it away.
She pulled out her cell phone.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a device for speaking to people at a distance. I’m gonna use it to contact someone and see if he’s got any advice for us.”
Not that they had many options. Regina couldn’t really be trusted while under her mother’s influence, and she figured Gold would sooner cut off his own hand than help his sworn enemy.
“Hey, Emma. What’s up?”
“I’ve got a problem down at the station. It’s nothing life-threatening, but I’m not sure what to do. Can you come over?”
“Sure. I can come now, or school should be out soon, if it can wait a little. Then you’d have us both.”
“Oh, I’m glad you mentioned it. I almost forgot I was s’posed to pick up Henry today. I’ll call Snow and ask her to give him a lift.”
“I’m sure she’d be happy to. See you in a bit.”
“Thanks… Dad. ”
“Anytime, Sweetheart.”
“Ok. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
Snow’s phone went straight to voicemail, so Emma left her a message.
“What now, Miss Emma?”
“Well, how about a game of Tic-Tac-Toe?”
Killian picked up on it pretty quickly, so after a few rounds of that, they moved on to Hangman. Emma was careful to pick words she thought he would know; sprinkling in some kid- friendly pirate- and sailing-themed ones as well, on the off chance something might trigger his subconscious. None of it seemed to mean anything special to him, though. Then there were the words she picked just to make a small boy laugh.
“Poop? Is that like poot?”
“Well, it’s something ponies do. You’ve probably seen him do it. Everybody does it. Do you need to? I could show you to the bathroom…”
He scrunched up his face at that.
“You don’t poop in the bath.”
“No,” she replied with a laugh, “that’s just what we call it. You poop in the toilet then you flush it away.”
They were interrupted by a commotion in the outer office.
“Mom?”
“Emma?”
“Back here!”
Snow and David followed soon after an enthusiastic Henry. Emma got up to give him a hug. She looked back at Killian and motioned him over to the group. It wasn’t long before she felt his hand in hers once more.
“Killian, I’d like you to meet Henry, David, and Snow. Henry’s my son.”
He made another jerky little bow. David and Snow exchanged looks. When he’d straightened back up, they inclined their heads to him in true regal fashion (even if they were fighting back smiles). Henry gave him a little wave.
“Hey, Kid, why don’t you take Killian and show him how the bathroom works. He’s not from around here, and he’s never seen one.”
“Oh, wow. Sure.”
As they left, Snow, channeling Mary-Margaret, called out, “Make sure he washes his hands!”
Henry’s “Ok” drifted back to them.
At the looks David and Emma were giving her, she colored slightly.
“What? I’m a teacher.”
Then she frowned in puzzlement.
“Killian…Killian…Why do I know that name?”
“You might know him by his ‘more colorful moniker.’”
Her frown deepened for a moment before her eyes went wide.
“No!”
“Pretty sure.”
David looked between them, startled and confused by the vehemence of Snow’s response.
“Wait. What am I missing here?”
“Hook! Emma’s saying that Killian is, or was, Hook.”
“Hook, as in the pirate who’s working with Cora?” He turned to Emma for confirmation.
“Somehow I’m thinking that’s not really the case anymore.”
David nodded slowly.
“I guess, but if he’s no longer of use to her as an adult, how could he possibly be of use to her as a child?”
“Regina,” Snow said softly. Then she looked at Emma.
“What makes you so sure it’s him? I mean, not that I don’t believe you… ”
Emma led them over to the table and showed them one of the pictures he’d drawn.
“Look familiar?”
“Oh.”
“He told me he was with these two ladies right before the dark-haired one sent him here with a wave of her hand. I doubt he had any say in the matter. To them he’s just a pawn in one of their games.”
“It sounds like our pint-sized pirate is gonna need a new moniker then. What’ll it be: Captain Adorable, or Captain Cutie? I lean towards Captain Cutie myself.”
“David,” Snow admonished with fond exasperation.
He shrugged.
“If alliteration is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.”
“C’mon, guys, we’re not talking about a notorious pirate with ulterior motives. We’re talking about a brave little boy who just wants to go home. How do I tell him that his home probably doesn’t even exist anymore? How do I tell him he’s a centuries-old, one-handed pirate hell-bent on revenge? You’re the ones who grew up around magic. Please, help me out here.”
“Oh, Sweetie, of course we’ll help.”
“That’s right. Blue’s about to have a royal audience, and we won’t be taking ‘no’ for an answer.”
Emma felt some of her tension ease.
“Thanks.”
As they went off to corner The Blue Fairy they ran into the boys on their way back from the bathroom.
“Is Operation Pony a go?”
“’Operation Pony?’ Is that what we’re calling it?”
Henry shrugged.
“Sure.”
“Well, why not. Operation Pony it is, and yes, it’s a go.”
“Great,” he turned to Killian with a smile. “It’ll be ok, you’ll see. You’ve got heroes on your side.”
“Heroes? Truly? Oh, that is a bit of luck.”
“We help where we can.”
“I’m gonna show Killian my storybook.”
“Don’t you think you should ask your mom first?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
"Ok. See you soon."
Emma was back at her desk when the boys approached her, trying to finish the report she’d been working on earlier.
“You got homework, Kid?”
Henry shrugged.
“Some, but I was really hoping to show Killian my storybook. Gramma said we should ask you. Please?”
Their expressions were irresistibly eager and hopeful. Killian might’ve even bounced a bit.
“Please, Miss Emma?”
“Ok. Fine.”
They raced back to the breakroom, while Emma shook her head, turning back to her work. She tried, really, but her thoughts were with the boys. Finally, she gave up, saved what little she had added to what little she had had in the first place, and headed back to join them.
As she got closer, she could hear Henry speaking in a slightly defensive tone.
“Look, she sent you to us, right? You said so yourself. She can’t help you right now, but we can, and she knew we would… and… well, she’s my mom too.”
Emma came to a halt in the doorway, leaning up against the jamb. Gazing over Henry’s shoulder, she could see Killian from where she stood, sitting at the table, looking surprisingly sullen and defiant, his arms folded across his narrow chest. It seemed even the best-behaved, well-mannered child was still a child after all. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he considered what Henry was saying, though.
“I suppose,” he replied at length, letting his arms fall to his sides.
It was a grudging admission on his part, but it seemed good enough for Henry. It couldn’t be easy for him, she thought, Regina being… well… Regina. Even so, she felt a swell of pride for the two of them overcoming this hurdle in a positive way. She straightened up, and the movement caught Killian’s eye.
“Miss Emma, you’re a princess!”
“That’s what they tell me.”
Henry turned towards her.
“Hey, Mom.”
Moving closer to the table, she could see the storybook open to an illustrated page, Killian’s drawings laid over it, hiding most of the illustration from view.
“You know, I was pretty skeptical, when Henry first introduced me to all this,” she said, sitting between them at the table. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Emma had to admit, there’d been a time when she wished she’d never seen Henry’s storybook in the first place. Life in Storybrooke came with a lot of complications. She wasn’t a fan of complications, and usually tried to avoid them. She still struggled with the idea that this could be her home, that she was loved, needed, wanted. It was all she’d ever hoped for, but it was awfully late in coming. She feared it might be too late, but only time would tell.
She and Killian proceeded to talk quietly about the storybook, while Henry started in on his homework, until the quiet was broken by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. David appeared first, followed by a somewhat reluctant-looking Blue, while Snow brought up the rear.
Killian got to his feet as they introduced him to the newcomer. Emma was worried for a second, considering how close he was to the table, that he might hurt himself, but he jerked back up from the bow with no harm done.
“Please come out here where I can get a better look at you.”
He looked at Emma, who gave him a reassuring smile. So he circled around her and Henry to stand before Blue. She gave him the once over then nodded to herself.
“This should be easy enough to correct. Emma, would you care to do the honors?”
“What, me?”
“Why not? You’re more than strong enough, and you need the practice.”
“I won’t hurt him?”
“No. Don’t worry. I’ll be right here with you.”
So Emma rose from her seat and moved to stand in front of Killian.
“Join hands, please.”
As they did, Killian said softly, “I’ll miss you, Miss Emma.”
“I’ll miss you too, Scamp, but we’ll see each other again, sooner than you realize.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s ok, you will, when… “ she suddenly had to swallow hard past a lump in her throat, “when you’re older.”
“Now, Emma, find your magic. Remember, it comes from a place of hope, a place of love. Feel it welling up inside you. Once you feel it, just let it flow, gently, from you to him. Give it intent and let it flow.”
Emma closed her eyes and did as instructed. There was a flash of white light then a murmured, “Bloody Hell.”
She opened her eyes to find herself looking up at Killian instead of down. Proud as she was of her accomplishment, it took a moment to register that they were still holding hands. He raised first one and then the other to his lips, holding her gaze all the while.
In the background, David made a throat-clearing sound. Killian smiled and winked at Emma before releasing her. He turned to face Blue and the others with a swirl of black leather. This time his bow was far more graceful. He pulled himself up to his full height, very much on his dignity.
“I thank you for your willingness to assist me in this difficulty. I won’t forget it. Right now, however, I have my ship to tend to. If you’ll excuse me.”
He headed for the door.
“Killian…”
He looked back at Emma briefly.
“Don’t worry, Darling, we’ll see each other again. I have it on good authority.”
Then he was gone.
It was full dark when Emma left Granny’s. She hadn’t seen or heard from Killian since he’d left the station three days ago. He was a big boy (again) who could take care of himself, but she worried about him all the same.
She was passing the mouth of a narrow alley when a hand shot out from the shadows, grabbed her and reeled her into the darkness. She found herself pressed tight back to front against a man who smelled of leather, rum, and the sea. She tensed, ready to struggle or cry out if necessary. Then she felt his hot breath in her ear as he leaned down to whisper, “Frosted Pop-Tarts.” She nearly sagged with relief. He let out a soft chuff of laughter and loosened his hold on her.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Not here, Darling, it’s far too public.”
She heard a soft rustling.
“Hold this for me, would you?”
He pressed what felt like a small, rounded stone into her hand before leading her further into the alley. They stopped and she heard more rustling. Then she felt him guiding her hand into position.
“Now, Swan.”
She opened her hand and was surprised to find the stone shining with a soft, steady amber glow.
“Magic?”
“Not so, Love. It’s called a Sunstone. They respond to body heat.”
Then she noticed the door in front of them and, more specifically, the lock he was picking. She knew it wouldn’t look good if the town sheriff got caught aiding and abetting a break-in, but then, look at what they had for a mayor. Once he’d bested the lock he drew her inside a cramped, dirty storage space, currently empty, where spiders and dust bunnies competed for supremacy.
“It was not my intention to cause you any distress, Love. If I did, know that I am sorry for it. I simply felt the need to be out on the water. I had a great deal on my mind, as you might imagine. After taking my leave of you I sailed further up the coast. Suffice to say the Jolly now rides at anchor in a secluded inlet some miles from here. I had to make the return journey on foot, tramping through unfamiliar territory and laden with supplies.”
“Tell me you’re not planning on staying in this dump.”
“No. I’ve a small camp out in the forest.”
“So now what? You’re not going back to Cora, right?”
“Really, Darling, do you think me such an ungrateful cur? Working with her was simply a means to an end. As for what comes next… I will allow that I nurture certain hopes for the future.” He gave her a significant look.
“Henry and my folks, they’ve been asking about you.”
“Happily, you can now put their minds at ease.”
“Are you planning to just sit this one out then?”
“I’m uncertain how best to be of assistance, but you may call on me if necessary. I thought to search Cora’s cabin before leaving the Jolly. Unfortunately, she’d already removed her things. Have a care, Love. She’s a powerful and dangerous foe.”
“How will I find you out there?”
“You should know that’s tonight’s meeting was not entirely by chance. I’ve acquired a small number of magical artifacts over the years, including a map of sorts. In fact, I knew I was close to Storybrooke when the bloody thing started working again. Still, if you need to find me, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“Oh, right. Magic. It’s… still pretty new.”
“Keep the stone, Love. I understand a focus is useful when it comes to locator spells.”
“Won’t you need it heading back to camp?”
“I traded or sold most of the stones soon after they came into my possession, but I kept a few of the choicest ones for myself. Consider it a token of my gratitude.”
“Oh…uhm… Thanks. I… I should prob’ly go.”
“Aye. Good night, Lass.”
“Night.”
She tucked the stone into her jacket pocket as she headed for the door. He’d made it seem like it was nothing, but it was something to her and she didn’t want him to know just how much it meant. Whatever else happened, she knew it was destined for her keepsake box, along with that drawing.