Emma felt David's eyes on her as he drove the police cruiser toward Gold's shop. She kept her eyes resolutely forward, focusing on the road before them. She knew what she would see if she looked over at her dad—sympathy, concern, the desire to "fix it". She wasn't in the mood for it, any of it. There wasn't a damn thing he could do about this ridiculously screwed up situation, and if he started throwing out empty platitudes and his trademark optimism she was going to start screaming bloody murder!

David cleared his throat, and Emma inwardly sighed in frustration. She should have known he wouldn't let it be.

"Emma," he began hesitantly, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said in a hard voice. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm just doing my job."

He looked over at her again. If he didn't stop watching her and start watching the road they were going to end up in a ditch. "Come on Emma; it's Killian! We need to talk about this. We need to…"

She cut him off with a quick downward motion of the hand. "What's there to talk about?" she said in a tightly controlled voice. "My stupid pirate boyfriend did something stupid. And piratey. And illegal. And violent. And I'm going to find out what's really going on before I head back to the sheriff's station and kill him."

David sighed. "I thought he'd changed. I thought he was done with his villainous ways."

Emma's eyes blazed, and she turned toward her father for the first time. "He has changed," she fumed. "He has given up his 'villainous ways'. He isn't anywhere near the man he was when I first met him back in the Enchanted Forest."

"I hate to say this; I really do," David said hesitantly, "but maybe we misjudged him. Maybe he's managed to pull the wool over our eyes. Maybe…"

Trust her father—the former shepherd to use that particular figure of speech!

"No!" she said in a cold voice…a deadly cold voice. "Reading people was my job. I know when people are lying. I know when people are playing me. I've spent enough time tracking the scum of the earth to recognize every one of their tricks, every one of their tells. Killian isn't showing any of them. Something is up with Killian, but it's not that he's 'pulling the wool over our eyes'."

David sighed again, but evidently decided to let the subject drop. "So why exactly is it that we're going to talk to Gold? What does he have to do with Killian beating the living daylights out of a man late last night?"

"You don't think it's odd that the man Killian beat last night was the very man Gold had a very public—and very heated—argument with yesterday afternoon just outside his shop?"

"Well, it is quite a coincidence," David conceded, "but come on Emma! You've got to be kidding! Killian's about the last person I could see Gold hiring to do his dirty work. I mean, the two of them don't seem to be at each other's throats any more, but they'll still never be 'mates'."

"I don't know," Emma conceded in frustration. "All I know is that I don't trust that scaly imp any farther than I can throw him. If he's involved, I'm going to find out, and when I do, I'm going to rip him a new one."

Ten minutes later Emma pulled the door of the pawn shop open and stormed inside. Gold looked up curiously at the tinkling of the bell, and his face fell into its usual lines of sardonic amusement.

"Ah," he drawled, "Miss Swan and her Charming father. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Not sure anything about this is going to be pleasurable," Emma said, "but we're here to ask you a few questions."

"In what capacity?" Gold asked as he went back to polishing a strange looking clock "personal or professional?"

"A man was beaten pretty badly last night, and we want to know if you have any information about the incident." David answered.

"So, you're here in your professional capacities, then."

"Yeah, and it'd be in your best interest to cooperate," Emma said, leaning over the counter and grabbing the polishing cloth from the man's smug hand.

"Just who is it who was beaten, and what makes you think I have anything to do with it, Dearie?" he asked, a tinge of malice clearly detectible in his smooth voice.

"Ezra Sweeney's the victim," David said.

"Ah," Gold said with a nod, "so the miserly banker finally pushed someone too far. Not surprising, but I fail to see what part you think I have in any of it."

Emma's temper, already close to the surface ever since she'd been called out to the Sweeney mansion last night, exploded. She banged both fists against Gold's counter with such force that the clock he'd been polishing jumped and would have fallen to the floor had the man not rescued it. "You know damn well why you'd be under suspicion and why we're here," she spat. "About a dozen people called the station yesterday afternoon to report the very public shouting match you had with Mr. Sweeny. You want us to believe the fact he was beaten later that night is just a coincidence?"

Gold's eyes glinted. "Careful, Miss Swan," he said through gritted teeth. "You want to be very careful before you accuse me of any wrong-doing without proof."

"Is that a threat?" she shouted.

Emma felt David's hand on her arm.. "No one's accusing anyone of anything. We just need to get to the bottom of what happened and why."

Gold held Emma's furious gaze for a beat, and then turned toward David. "I can assure you I took no part in the assaulting of Mr. Sweeney. I spent a cozy evening at home with my wife. Shall I call Belle to confirm my whereabouts to you?"

"That won't be necessary," David said calmly. "We just need to know if you have any information."

Gold shrugged. "Ezra Sweeney, or Ebenezer Scrooge, as he's know back in his home realm, is a miserly snake. I've no doubt there are any number of people who might have motive for attacking him. Have you any leads on the attacker?"

Emma looked away uncomfortably. "We arrested Killian last night."

Gold smirked again. "The cowardly pirate strikes again. Leave it to Hook to attack an old man in his own home."

"But it just doesn't make sense!" Emma insisted, more to herself than to the owner of the pawn shop. "Killian doesn't just go attacking people for no reason. He's changed."

"I beg to differ, Dearie," Gold said in a voice of barely concealed rage. "There's a darkness inside Killian Jones, a darkness that goes all the way to the bone. He can try all he wants, but he'll never uproot that darkness. If you think he'll ever change, you're delusional."

"No," Emma said in a cold deadly voice. "You're the one who's delusional. If I find out you're somehow behind this, I'll throw you in jail for so long you'll start growing mold!"

"Be my guest," Gold drawled, "but until you start admitting to yourself just who your pathetic boyfriend really is, you aren't worth a damn as a sheriff."

Emma clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palm so hard they nearly broke the skin. Then, turning on her heels she marched out. It was either that or plant her fist in Mr. Gold's arrogant face.

Killian sat on the jail cell cot and hung his head. Utter desolation crashed over him in waves. He had tried so hard to change, to be the man Swan deserved, to be the man Charming liked and admired, to be the man he wanted to be, but it was time to admit the ugly truth. The Crocodile was right. The darkness was a cancer within him. It was part of his very make up and he would never be rid of it.

He'd tried to tell himself the Crocodile was wrong; that he'd been employing tricks; that the hand really had been cursed. He'd tried to tell himself he'd changed, that he'd become a better man, that he wasn't utterly unworthy of the affection and even love he saw shining out of his sweet lass's eyes every time she looked at him now, but he was merely fooling himself.

The darkness was not merely within him, it was an integral part of his very make up and he would never be free of it.

If his actions during his date with Emma and what happened later on that accursed night were not indication enough of his true nature, what happened a week ago surely was all the proof he would ever need.

One week past, he'd stumbled upon the Snow Queen's lair, sent there by the bloody Crocodile. Gold had sent him to the Snow Queen's chilly hideout in search of the source of her power. He'd been given precious little by way of descriptions or instructions. When he'd asked what he should retrieve, the Crocodile had smiled rather nastily and assured him he would know it when he saw it.

The first thing that struck him as he cautiously stepped into the frozen interior was the blinding white of everything. In his black leather and midnight blue shirt, he stood out like a hideous stain. It made his heart sink. Was that all he was? A stain, a blot that would slowly but surely infect and contaminate all that came in contact with it? Would he destroy Emma and her family with his continued presence in their lives? What made him think he was worthy of their trust of him?

"So you've come to see me at last," spoke a voice. Killian spun on his heels, heart pounding. Had the Snow Queen returned? But no, that was a man's voice he heard—a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own. From whence had it come?

"Over here," the voice called jovially. Killian spun around until he found himself face to face with his own visage in a large mirror in an ornate, white frame. Was this the terrible mirror Belle warned us all about?'

"What?" the voice mocked, "is the great Captain Hook, the terror of the seven seas afraid to take a glimpse in a mirror? Could it be that you are as cowardly as that Crocodile you're so often maligning?"

"I fear nothing!" Killian shouted, striding forward until he stood directly before the sodding thing.

The Hook in the mirror laughed maliciously. "You're not afraid of anything? Tell me, do you even believe the lies you tell yourself?"

Killian remained stoically silent. He would not be seduced by the dark magic here.

"Do you know what I think mate?" mirror Hook asked. "I think you know full well that you are afraid, terrified in fact, that the lovely Miss Swan will find out the truth about you. The truth that you are now and always will be a villain."

"That's a bloody lie," Killian spat. "I've changed! I've spent every moment since I found Emma in New York working to become a better man—a man worthy of her."

Mirror Killian laughed derisively. "You think you could ever be worthy of Emma Swan? You? With all your filth and darkness. Let me tell you a little secret, Hook. You've only won Emma's heart because she doesn't know who and what you really are."

Killian tensed. "I will not listen! I will not fall under your spell!"

Mirror Hook grinned. "There's no magic here. I don't know what Belle told you, but I show nothing more nor less than the naked, unvarnished truth about any who gaze upon me. A truth you know all too well, Hook. You know full well who you are."

"A man of honor," Killian ground out.

"No," Mirror Hook growled. "No, you viciously rooted out any thread of honor you once had the moment you became a pirate—and you filled it with the darkness. The darkness claimed you for its own a long time ago and you'll never break free. You, Captain, have become the darkness."

"No," Killian said, turning away, trying to block out the hateful voice.

"Aye!" mirror Hook countered. "You think I lie? Test out what I say. Why haven't you told your precious Emma about your collaborations with Rumplestiltskin? If you're truly a 'good man' why are you keeping distasteful secrets from the woman you love? It's simple, isn't it, Hook? You refuse to tell her because you know she'll leave you. You know she'll despise you, and you know the pain of her loss will make you shrivel up and die—just as you deserve."

"No! Emma will understand; she will stand beside me."

"Will she?" mirror Hook asked, and then shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe she will, but how long do you think it will be before your darkness corrupts and destroys her? How long before you smother her light? You destroy everyone you love. Liam, Milah, Baelfire. They're all dead. You are a curse upon those unfortunate enough to be loved by you. What makes you think your precious Emma will be any different? If you had even a shred of that honor you claim to have, you'd run as far from your lass as you can get."

Killian had heard enough. He'd heard far more than enough! This menace must be destroyed. He advanced, hook raised, ready for destruction.

"That's it!" mirror Hook praised, "Don't fight it Hook. Give in to the rage. Hit me, break me. Smash me!

Abruptly Killian stopped. Smashing the mirror was precisely what the Snow Queen wanted, wasn't it? What was it that Belle had called it? The curse of the shattered sight? He may be tainted beyond help, but he'd be damned before he was the instrument the Snow Queen used to destroy the town he called home!

Killian had turned tail and fled from the lair, not even bothering to look for whatever bloody item the Crocodile had sent him to fetch.

But the mirror's words had been far more difficult to outrun. They were inescapable, because Killian knew with every fiber of his being that they were true.

Over the ensuing week, Killian had used every excuse under the sun to avoid spending time with Emma and her family. Villain though he may be, he loved her. He loved her so much he ached with it, so much it was a fist squeezing his heart as he tried to sleep at night, so much he feared he could no longer breathe without her. Loved her so much that he refused to snuff out her light with his darkness, refused to subject her to the curse of being loved by him. He should leave Storybrooke, but God help him he was weak. He could not leave her.

And so he'd found himself easy prey yesterday evening when the Crocodile had sought him out to demand his services. Killian hated himself thinking about what he'd done, thinking about Emma finding him and locking him in jail. There had been a small part of him that had still believed he could be saved, a small part of him that believed Emma, the only light in his darkness, could be his saving grace.

Now he knew better. Now that she'd been privy to the blackness that still resided in his very soul, she'd likely never want to set eyes on his pathetic face again.

Notes: Hi everyone! I decided I needed to join the throng of fanfiction writers, producing angsty stories about Killian encountering the dark mirror—and also dealing with his little Rumplestiltskin problem. The inspiration for this little story came from the events in 4x4 and 4x6, of course, but also the behind the scenes photos we saw a few months back of Colin sitting in the jail cell.

-I know this chapter is depressing, but this was as far as the muse would take me today. Don't worry, though! There's a chapter 2 in the works, and things will definitely start looking up!

- Up next, Emma returns to the sheriff's station and demands Killian let her know just what has been going on with him lately. Unable to stand it any longer, he tells her the whole sordid tale. Will it be as he fears? Will she reject him and tell him she never wants to lay eyes on him again?