You only know what I want you to.

I know everything you don't want me to.

He's alive.

Barely.

But as long as his heart is still beating, he figures it counts.

He's hanging on. It has to count.

He's so weak. Damn near useless, damn near collapsing. Hook's saved his ass more times than he cares to acknowledge, including when one of his legs had given out from under him just as they were working their way through a narrow cliff-side pass. The pirate had grabbed him, saving him, only just in time.

That was the narrowest escape, but far from the only one. By his count, he owes the pirate his life times three.

Which is really annoying, considering he's going to die soon anyway.

"Just leave me!" he snaps, when he collapses to the jungle floor again, and the pirate hoists him back up.

"No," Hook hisses, struggling to prop him up on his own shoulder, bearing all of his weight for him. "No, I'm not going to leave you to die. You're not going to leave me to tell them. You're not going to make me do that to her."

He feels the scowl set. "I told you to stay away from Emma."

The pirate scoffs right back. "Yes, because the prince feebly waving his sword at me, that was quite the deterrent. As you so insistently keep telling me, you'll be dead. What do I care of your opinion?"

The truth of it eats at him, twisting his stomach.

"Snow will..."

"Snow will be in no state to give a damn what I do. Do you think she's just going to pick herself up from your dead body and go on with her day? This will break her, and you're letting it."

"Don't talk to me about my wife!"

"Someone has to, mate."

"I'm doing what I think is right. You don't get to judge."

"You don't get to put this all on me," Hook huffed with the strain of essentially carrying him. "I'm getting you back to the camp. I'm not going back without you. Once we're back, that's your call, mate. You either tell your wife and daughter the truth, or you don't, and just wait until you drop dead in front of them. I don't care, as long as I'm not part of doing that to them."

"Why do you care so much?!"

"Even a pirate can love, mate. I lost someone I loved, once. I wouldn't wish the pain of it on anyone. Losing you? It'll mess Emma up, and I don't know if she'll ever be able to put herself all the way back together. And Snow? She loves you. Really, really loves you. This will destroy her, and you know that better than I do."

He feels himself sag, even as Hook attempts valiantly to keep him upright.

"What the point of making them feel that pain earlier than they have to?" he asks, genuinely wanting Hook's opinion. "Isn't it easier for them if I just die, rather than them having to know it's coming, having to wait for it?"

Hook shrugs, jostling him slightly. "That's your call, not mine. You're going to handle this as you see fit. Just don't leave me to be the one to tell them you've died. I can't do it. Help me get you back to camp."

With a sigh, he nods. He owes Hook this. He's not going to live long enough to save Hook thrice. Helping the pirate get him back to camp, removing the burden of his own lie of omission from Hook's shoulders, it's the best he can do.

"Mate, you're gonna have to wrap your arm around my shoulders, come on..."

He tries, but fails in a feeble attempt.

"You're that weak?" Hook asks, paling slightly, before recoiling when he'd gone to do it for him.

"What is it?" he snaps.

"Your shoulder. It's separated. That's why you can barely move it. It must have popped when I grabbed you to keep you from falling."

He turns his head slightly to look at it, feeling wary.

"You can't feel it?!" Hook demands. "That was two hours ago. How much pain are you actually in from the poison that you can't feel a separated shoulder?"

"I feel numb," he replies softly. "I can't feel any of it anymore. I did, but I don't anymore."

Hook swallows. "We need to get you back. Let's go, mate. Come on. I'll carry you if I have to."

They make it back.

She doesn't relax.

Charming is struggling obviously, hobbling in on what she can tell is everything he's got left.

She suspects Hook had been helping him more than Charming had been willing to show when he got back within her range of vision. The pirate walks into their campsite hovering just a few measured steps behind her husband, as if expecting Charming to collapse at any moment.

No, she doesn't relax. She doesn't calm. She doesn't settle down.

"Hey!" Emma chirps, as positive as she's been since this whole mess started. "How'd it go?"

Hook manages a half smile for her, though the strain doesn't leave his eyes. "Mission accomplished, love."

Their conversation fades to the background for her, as she focuses on her husband, making his way over to their bed.

"Hey," he murmurs.

She shudders at how winded he sounds, how weak he looks now that he's close.

"You look exhausted," she says softly.

"You really do," Emma comments, coming over to join them. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he replies, with a smile that she knows on sight is strained. "Messed up my shoulder a little bit, is all."

"How'd you manage that?"

"Nearly went over a cliff," Hook interjects, a typical triumphant smirk playing at his lips but none of his usual energetic light in his eyes. "I saved him," he brags.

Charming huffs. "And wrenched my shoulder out in the process."

Hook shrugs. "You win some, you lose some."

"Nice," her husband mutters, but there's no real heat behind it.

"You sure that's all it is?" she asks, softly.

Charming smiles. "I'm fine."

The frustration writ large on Hook's face says otherwise, and she feels her heart sink.

Through the fog in his head, he knows Snow's not alright.

She is angry, lashing out in a way he's scarcely seen of her. Hissing at Regina, snapping at Hook, avoiding Emma.

And remaining so gentle with him that he damn near wants to weep, if only...

He wants to comfort her, he wants to fix things, he wants to make it better for her, but he cannot find the strength or energy to so much as open his eyes, and it's infuriating. He's never felt so useless in his entire life, and he wants to rage at it, rage the way Snow is now, but he just cannot do it.

He can't do anything.

He lies on the bed he made for himself and Snow, and feigns sleep unintentionally, for though he is conscious of what is going on around him, he cannot make himself do anything about it. The poison has eaten up too much of him now, and he has already given everything he had left.

He knows he's dying.

And despite himself, he wonders if she knows too.

He lies there, listening to his wife lash out, and thinks about how sorry he is.

I'm sorry Snow. I love you. Please, please, please, when it's over, remember that. Remember how I loved you.

They have some semblance of a plan now, thanks mostly to Hook. She's grateful, she thinks. Somewhere inside, she's grateful. Hook has done more to help them save Henry than anyone.

They've sent a message for Tink with a bird that Snow was able to garner would be loyal to them. The bright, vibrant - parrot like but not - creature was not a fan of Pan, and that was good enough for them.

All that is left now is to wait for the fallen-from-grace fairy to re-join them. Then they can finally, finally do something.

And she is so angry.

She keeps herself away from Emma as much as she can, recognizing even through the black cloud of rage that she doesn't ever want to take what she's feeling out on her - their - daughter. Hook is fair game, really, but in the back of her mind she does know that none of this is his fault. She snaps at him, in no mood for his games, but it goes no further than that. Hook seems to understand that she needs to be left alone.

There is an apology, a sorrow in his eyes that she really doesn't want to think about.

Regina, though. Everything, everything comes back to Regina.

"You're certain the bird can be trusted?" her stepmother demands.

She closes her eyes, better to not see the red haze that has clouded her vision.

"I told you I was," she hisses in reply. "What more do you want me to say?"

"I guess there's nothing you can say," Regina says, haughtily. "We both know secrets have never been your strong suit."

Something inside her snaps, and she's slapping the hateful older woman across the face before she can even think about doing it.

"Mare!" Emma exclaims, though she barely hears it, as it seems to come from very far away.

As if she'd yelled it from somewhere else, yelled it from a land where everything would have been different, yelled it from there home where her daughter could have grown up, where she would have been 'Mama', then 'Mommy', then 'Mom', but never Mare, never ever Mary Margaret, and none of this is fair, and it all comes back to Regina.

"I was twelve years old!" she shrieks, control gone. "I was a child, God damn it, God damn you. Would you have expected Henry to keep a secret like that, if he had thought keeping it would harm you? I was a child, not a demon! I was a child, and your mother told me that she would fix everything if I just told her the truth. I wasn't going to tell her, I wasn't, but your mother was a psychotic, manipulative, evil bitch, and she made me believe that you were going to lose her forever if I kept your secret. I was a CHILD, and I'd just lost my mother, and I loved you, and I didn't want you to go through what I did! So I told, and it has been one of the great regrets of my life, that I fell for it, that I tried to protect you and ended up ruining everything, that I was such a naive little girl. There, are you satisfied? You killed my father. You've cast more curses upon me than I care to count, you have deprived me of a life spent with my husband and my daughter, you made it so that I wouldn't be there to watch her grow up, and I will never be able to repair the damage from that, but damn it, I was a child who failed to keep a secret, so clearly I deserve whatever hell you can rain upon me! Right, Regina? The demon-little girl with the dastardly, the diabolical, the evil plan of making sure you didn't lose your mother like I did, there's no suffering that's enough for her!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognizes that Hook is openly staring at her, that Emma is in tears, and that Regina looks stricken in a way she hadn't believed her capable of in decades, but it doesn't break through. The dam has broken.

"You can go to hell," she whispers, finally. "This is all your fault. Everything, everything comes back to you, the woman whose heart was so black she couldn't understand a mistake made by a little girl. I was a child. I was a child, I was a child, I was..."

"Snow," her husband cries out, desperate.

Nothing was breaking through to her.

That did.

He's dying and she's breaking and there's something symbolic in that, and he hates it.

She's suffering. She has her entire life, suffering more pain and hurt and loss than one human being should have ever been forced to face, and it's all coming out of her now, finally overcoming her in this moment, and he doesn't understand why it has to be now, now when he can't fix it, unless...

Unless it's happening now, because he can't fix it.

He concentrates, harder than he has on anything in his life, on forcing his eyes open, on focusing them once he does, immediately, on his wife.

He doesn't see Hook, doesn't see Regina. For once, doesn't even see Emma. All he can see is Snow, arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold herself together when dozens of pieces of herself are falling off at once, down to the cold hard ground.

It's too much to ask of himself, but he can never ask enough of himself when it comes to her, and so he forces it out, the cry through his lips, and he calls for her.

"Snow!"

His bellow is guttural, ripped from him in agony. He knows it doesn't sound like him, he knows he sounds awful, he knows it sounds like he's dying.

And he knows he can't hide this from her anymore, for she is at his side in seconds, as if she'd been waiting for him to cry out for her, and she holds his hand in hers, clutches at it, brings it to her lips to kiss.

His body wants to close its eyes, but he forces them to stay open, forces himself to stay focused on her beautiful, broken face.

"Hey," she murmurs. "I'm right here. Charming, I'm right here."

He tries to say something, finds that there are no words to say.

Something in her eyes shatters, but her grip on his hand stays strong.

"Are you finally ready to tell me?" she asks.

"Are you finally ready to tell me?" she asks.

Something in his stomach seizes.

She'd known all along. Of course she had. The prince was foolish to have ever tried otherwise.

Oh he'd loved Milah, he really had, and he believes in his heart that she'd really loved him too, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like Snow White and her Prince Charming, the love that legends are made of; the love story that had been told throughout the realms.

He knew their story, of course he did. Everyone did.

And the Evil Queen, stricken though she is looking right now, has no right to be involved in this part of it.

He grabs her.

She flails out against him immediately, but he's got her hands gripped in such a way that she can't open her palms up to release magic against him, and that's enough.

"We're going," he hisses. "This doesn't involve us, this is about those three, and we are going to leave them to it."

She fights him as he drags her out of their campsite, hissing at him, threatening him. He tries to ignore it, what she says and how she says it, but there is no denying it, the woman falling apart before him.

"No!" the Evil Queen screams. "No, no, no, no, no!"

Whatever was seizing in his stomach before gets worse.

She is breaking down, sobbing openly, and if he didn't know any better, he'd think they were of remorse.

"You take me back!" she screams at him. "Oh God, she was a child. Oh God, oh God, what have I done?"

She struggles against him, and he doesn't let go, and he wonders how many more people this land will break.

She wants to weep at how much the effort of merely staying conscious is costing him.

He's dying before her eyes, and there is no curse coming to accidentally save him this time.

The anger is gone, leaving in its place a terrible sorrow, the likes of which she'd never felt before, even after everything.

She preferred the anger.

"What is going on?" Emma asks shakily from somewhere behind them.

Em. Emma cannot see this, she knows. She cannot handle it. She's barely begun to accept Charming as her father, and he'll be gone before they can get past that.

Her daughter has no idea what she's about to lose. And she needs to know. She'll need to be told, need to be prepared, but not yet. After.

This is something she needs to do alone with her husband.

"Em," she says softly, turning to her daughter. "Can you give us a minute alone?"

The stubbornness that she and Charming both combined to pass on to their daughter flashes in Emma's eyes.

"No," Emma snaps. "No, this is... it's us three... you're my... okay, someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on."

"And we will," she promises. "Soon. I just need to talk to your father alone for a little while first. Can you please let me have that?"

Emma sighs, but nods. "I'll go after Hook and Regina."

She waits until she's sure their daughter is gone before speaking again.

"No more lying," she tells Charming, whose stare has not left her face since he opened his eyes back up.

He's memorizing her face all over again, one last time, she knows, and she only barely chokes back the sob.

"You know?" he asks, blearily confused.

She feels the tears working their way down her face, ignores them. Wiping them away is not worth letting go of Charming's hands.

"How could I not?" she asks softly. "You are my heart, Charming. I know when it is hurting."

He closes his eyes.

"No," she tells him. "It's not time to sleep yet, Charming."

He blinks his eyes open again slowly, but manages to focus back on her. "It hurts, Snow."

"Your wound?"

He looks at her in a way that tells her he'd be shaking his head if he had the strength for it. "No," he whispers. "Saying goodbye to you."

She doesn't choke the sob back this time.

"I thought I would be making it easier for both of us, if I didn't tell you."

She kisses his hand again.

"There's no making this easier, my sweet Charming. I love you so much that you would try, but there's no way to fix this."

She watches the tear slide down his face.

"I'm so sorry, Snow."

She shakes her head. "There's no apologizing. You were trying to protect me. End of story."

He swallows, and it worries her how difficult it is for him to do so. Putting a water bottle to his lips, she helps him to drink, sees the gratitude in his eyes.

"You did get hit by that arrow," she says, suddenly needing him to say it, needing confirmation.

"Yes," he whispers. "Barely a nick, but it got me."

"And the dreamshade is killing you."

"It won't stop spreading. I don't have... I don't have much time left."

"Let me see it," she demands.

"No..."

"Charming, I won't be able to accept it. I can't... I can't accept it. You need to let me see for myself what's killing you!"

He sighs. It's choked, staggered, as if there's nothing left in him even for breathing.

"If it's truly... truly what you need. But my darling... Snow... I don't want it for you. I don't want to leave you with that."

"Okay," she whispers. "Okay."

"I love you," he tells her. "You need to know how much I love you."

"I know. I promise you, I know. I love you."

For a moment, just a moment, they are quiet together.

So it is all the more startling when their daughter bursts in through the trees.

Emma stares at them, and she stares back at her.

After everything they've been through, she's never seen their daughter look so young, and she looks even younger still when she finally speaks.

"Daddy?"

"You need to pull yourself together," he hisses. "You cannot fall apart right now. This is still about the boy. And if we're going to stand a chance in hell now, it's going to come down to you and me. You can weep about all your bitter regrets some other time, Regina!"

"I can't, I can't, I have to fix..."

"There is no fixing this!" he roars."What's done is done. It's led us all here, to this moment, and you have to live with that. You have to live with what you've done to that family in there, and you need to help me save your son, because that's the only thing that's going to make any of this better! Snow and Emma, they're not going to be alright, they're not going to be of any use, so if you..."

"What are you talking about?" Regina demands, fury breaking through her sobs.

"He got hit!"

"What?" she hisses.

"Their prince Charming in there, he got hit in the attack from the Lost Boys. The Dreamshade is working its way through his body, there's next to nothing left to him. He's dying back there, and none of us can do anything about it. All you and I can do, is as he would have wished, and save your son!"

He doesn't have the chance to focus on how Regina has paled, the terror in her eyes.

His attention is captured by a woman he cares far more about, spinning at the sound of her terrified gasp.

"Emma," he breathes.

She looks like a child, wide-eyed and horror-struck.

Little Lost Girl.

"Emma, love..."

"Please," she cuts him off. "Please tell me it's a lie. Please tell me you made it up to mess with her head. Please, tell me that you didn't just say that my father is dying?"

He hadn't known, after Milah, that he was capable of feeling his heart break again.

He is.

"Emma," he murmurs, and it's all he can say, and he hears his voice crack even just with that, and he knows that despite everything he'd told the prince, he'd just broken her.

She shakes her head slowly, her wide eyes looking too huge in her suddenly sickly pale face.

"No," she says. "No!"

"Emma!" he yells, but he's too late to make a grab for her before she's taking off running.

In the absence of a second hand to bury his head into, he kicks at the rocks and rubble at his feet. "Damn it!" he cries into the jungle, before spinning to the other woman he'd all but forgotten about.

"Regina," he tries.

He doesn't think she hears him.

"This is not happening," she says, more to herself than him. "This is not..."

"It is," he hisses, "and you need to..."

"She can't handle it!" she shrieks.

He recoils, taken aback. "I know she can't, but..."

"She... she's twelve years old!"

"What?" he asks flatly. He's not prepared for this, he wasn't prepared for any of this, to have so many lives balanced in his hand and a hook. Charming might as well be gone, his wife and daughter will be destroyed for it, his grandson still needs saving, and the only other person he has to help him is losing it before him.

"She never stopped being twelve years old, I just could never see that, and she loves him, and after everything, everything I've done, she cannot lose him now!"

He doesn't have a chance to put together a response to that before she's taking off running for their camp too.

"Gods," he rasps. He hasn't prayed since he was barely out of his teens, but if now isn't the time to start up again...

"Gods help us."

Doing this with Snow was agony.

Doing it with Emma now is impossible.

He'd waited his whole damn life to hear his child call him 'Daddy'.

He'd thought 'Dad' back in Storybrooke was the best he was ever going to get, and he'd made his peace with that. 'Dad' was perfect, 'Dad' was wonderful.

And now, at the last possible moment, he finds himself 'Daddy'.

Always when he's about to die, he thinks blankly. That's not fair.

A man should get to feel only joy when his child calls for him in such a way. So why does he have to feel this kind of bittersweet sorrow twice?

"Em," he tries.

"You're... you're... you're..."

She can't say it, he realizes.

He's not going to make her.

"Yeah," he says, closing his eyes so he doesn't have to see the look on her face. "I am."

She makes a strange noise he's never heard of her before, half sob and half broken laugh, and he forces his eyes back open again.

"There has to... there has to be a way we can fix this. You... you guys have magic. Happily ever after, right? There's always a fix. What's the... what's the fix?"

"There isn't one, Em. Pixie dust was probably the only hope, and..."

Emma straightens up, wiping away tears. "That's it then! Where's Tink, she should be here by now."

"She didn't have any, Emma."

She rubs at her face roughly, rakes her hands through her hair. "Something else, then. Some other magic. I have some, you can... you can have all of it. Just tell me what to do. We'll make Regina... we'll make her help, she owes us that."

"There's nothing we can do, Em," he says, fighting hard to keep his voice steady. "I don't have time left. Magic can't fix this."

She sobs, and he can't fix that either.

"What... there has to be something I can do. What can I do?"

He swallows.

"If you come over here and sit with your Mom and I, that would mean the world to me."

He knows it's not fair of him, to ask his wife and his daughter to sit with him as he dies. It's exactly what he'd wanted to avoid the whole time.

But now, it's all he wants, and he feels his heart break further when Emma nods vigorously, rushing over to them, folding herself up to sit cross-legged next to Snow.

The tears start again when Emma leans her head on Snow's shoulder.

"Mom and I will be right here," she promises, sniffling. "The whole time. We're not going anywhere."

"Thank you," he whispers. "I love you so much, honey."

"I love you too, Daddy. I know I haven't said it. I know you deserved it earlier. But I love you too."

Snow hasn't said anything since Emma arrived, and he can see on her face how badly she's falling apart, but she manages to wrap her free arm around their daughter's shoulders.

They're all there, together, and as far as ways to die go, it's not so bad. He can even feel himself relaxing, until they're disturbed once more.

"You can't just give up!" Regina demands, violently, and he's startled by it, as is his family. Snow throws her body over his, protecting him, and Emma is on her feet immediately, the shimmery purpleness of magic bursting out of her, a protective spell.

"You don't touch him!" Snow shrieks.

"Leave us the hell alone!" Emma adds even as she attempts to choke back tears. "This has nothing to do with you. You've ruined enough!"

"I know I have," Regina says, just as Hook runs in behind her, an apology in his eyes. "I know this is all on me. My black heart. Everything, everything that has happened comes back to me forgetting that you were a child, Snow, but I've remembered now. There has to be a way to fix this. I'll do it. If there's any way for me to make amends..."

"There's not," Emma cries, even as she lowers the magical wall. "You can't fix this. My father is dying, and there's nothing anyone can do about it, and if you had any respect at all you'd leave my family alone now..."

It breaks him further when he realizes she can't continue, and he watches with accepting eyes as Hook steps forward, pulling Emma into an embrace.

He should hate it, he knows he should, but he'd long learned the pirate wasn't a bad man, and someone needs to hold her, and he can't, and Snow's holding him, and there's no one...

Brow furrowing, he stares over Snow's shoulder, past Emma and Hook and Regina, at the two figures he can see standing at the entrance to their camp.

Tink makes sense.

The person she's with, however...

"Snow," he murmurs. "I think... I think I'm starting to have hallucinations."

She spins to see what he's staring at, and then recoils in a way that doesn't make sense, because she shouldn't be able to see who's there.

Emma is held securely in Hook's arms, and she clings back to him as if she can't ever let go, and even to his eyes she looks like she belongs there, and he wonders what that looks like to anyone else, especially the man standing with Tink, staring at them.

"Neal?" Snow breathes.

Apparently she is having hallucinations with her husband, though it does seem strange that they would have the exact same one. Maybe the connection she has with him is stronger than she'd ever even thought.

Except now Emma, Hook, and Regina all seem to be staring towards Neal too, which makes this all seem - impossibly - real.

Emma and Hook have not let go of each other. If anything, they seem to be clutching to each other tighter, the two people who would be most impacted by Neal's impossible reappearance keeping each other standing.

She wonders what that looks like to Neal, and as he gapes at them, suspects it doesn't look like anything good.

"What's going on?" Neal demands.

"Bit of a funny question for you to ask," Hook says lightly, and she suspects it took a lot out of him to keep it so.

"You know what, you... Get your hands off of her, pirate."

"He's my friend," Emma finally says. "And I needed a hug. He'll keep holding me as long as I need him to."

Neal steps forward, arms stretched as if reaching for her. "Are you alright?"

"No!" Emma exclaims. "No, I'm not alright. You died. And then my son got kidnapped. And then we took a damn pirate ship through a portal to Neverland after him, where your father promptly abandoned us to fend for ourselves, leaving Hook as the only one of us who has a damn clue what he's doing. And we were stumbling along, trying to figure it all out, and then suddenly my father's dying on me, my mother and I are going to lose him, and then you show up, miraculously back from the dead, asking me if I'm alright?"

He throws his hands up in the air, stopping his progress towards her. "I didn't die, Em," he promises. "I got shot, but when I fell through the portal I got myself back to the Enchanted forest. Your friends, Aurora and Mulan, and Phillip -"

"Phillip's dead," Emma interjects flatly.

"Well he looked alive when I saw him. They helped me, they saved me, and Mulan helped me make my way to my father's castle, where we met Robin Hood, and we found some magic that let me find out you were in Neverland, so we summoned the shadow, which brought me here, to find you."

Emma blinks.

"How the hell is this even my life now," Emma mumbles to herself.

Hook strokes his hand over her back. "It's alright, love."

"Hey I told you to get your hands off of her!" Neal snaps.

"And she told you that it's not happening," Hook drawls back.

"You son of..."

"This is not helping!" she cries out finally. "None of this is helping. It doesn't matter how any of this happened, only that it did. All of you. You have the plan now. Go save Henry. That's all that matters anymore."

"And what about Dad?" Emma demands. "We can't just leave him here!"

"We won't be," she says as evenly as she can. "I'm going to stay with him."

"Snow..." Charming chokes out.

"Don't argue with me," she says softly. "I'm not leaving you."

"And then what?" Emma demands, crying again. "Dad dies, and you fall apart, and you're all alone..."

"Wait," Neal interjects. "He doesn't have to die."

Everyone spins on him.

"He got hit with Dreamshade," Hook says. "With no pixie dust, there's no saving him."

"No, I saw Henry. I had him. My father and I, we'd managed to get him away from Pan, but..."

"What?" Regina demands.

"Where is he?" Emma shrieks.

"You need to let me finish, Pan got him back..."

"Was he alright?"

"Did you tell him we love him, that it'll be okay,"

"I did, but he was knocked out, I don't think he heard..."

"He's hurt?"

"Everyone needs to stop!" Neal yells, patience gone. "I don't know what the hell has been going on with all of you, and I don't want to know. All I can tell you is what I've found out on my end. Henry has what is called 'the heart of the truest believer'."

Hook recoils. "I had thought that was only legend."

"It's not. Henry believes in magic, in our worlds, our lives, more than anyone. That kind of belief is magic in of itself. Pan believes that Henry is the key to bringing all kinds of magic to Neverland, including..."

"Pixie dust," Tink mutters, speaking for the first time.

"And that can save my father?" Emma demands.

"Yes," Tink says. "Pixie dust can reverse the effects of Dreamshade. If we can get to your Henry, if he can do as you say, if he can bring pixie dust back to Neverland, I will be able to save your noble prince here."

"What are we waiting for then?" Emma demands.

Regina nods. "We can do this. If we can all work together, we can pull this off."

They all begin readying themselves to leave, though she feels removed from it all.

"Mom," Emma murmurs, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We can do this. We'll do this for Dad."

Hook still stands at Emma's back, locking eyes with Charming. "You have my word that I'll do everything in my power to keep her safe."

"As will I," Neal snaps over, as he digs through the pile of supplies.

"Don't start again," Emma hisses, before turning back to them. "You both keep telling me to have faith, right?"

She manages a smile.

"Right," she agrees.

"We're gonna be back, Daddy," Emma promises, before getting up to leave. "We're going to save you."

"I love you Em," Charming manages.

"See you soon," Emma says, with only a slightly shaky smile, before she runs out of the clearing, followed immediately by Hook.

Neal turns to follow after them, a deeply unhappy look on his face, but determined, she jumps up to stop him.

"Neal, a moment," she demands, not asking. "Regina, Tinkerbell, leave us please."

Tink acquiesces without a word, following after Emma and Hook.

Regina stares at her, a deeply troubled look on her face, before looking down at Charming.

"Stay alive," Regina finally says. "Give me a chance to make this right."

With that said, she too leaves the campsite.

His energy is slipping rapidly, staying conscious and aware for this long taking far too much out of him when he'd had nothing left to give to start with. Still, he forces himself to stay awake, not wanting to miss what his wife has to say to Neal.

"You love her?" Snow demands.

"I really do," Neal promises.

"Good. I know Emma and Henry are your only real concerns. That works for me. That's exactly why, at the first sign of this going wrong, you're going to get the two of them off of this island. You're going to save them. Forget about everything else."

"Excuse me?" Neal demands.

"Snow," he tries. "What are you doing?"

For the first time in his memory, Snow ignores him.

"Emma will try to get back to us, no matter what. You're not going to let her. Hook will be a problem as well. Even Regina, given that she seems to have picked the exact wrong time to start feeling remorse. Besides Tink, you're the only one who could not care less about my husband and I..."

"You're Emma's parents!" Neal snaps.

"And as far as you're concerned, that doesn't mean much, because we weren't able to be there for her growing up, am I right? You do not care for us, and that's a good thing. You're the only one who can do what needs to be done, and that's to get my family the hell off this gods forsaken island."

"And what," Neal demands, "am I to tell her? That I left you to die?"

"That you saved her and her son. In time, that will be all that matters."

Neal shakes his head. "She won't forgive me."

"But they'll both be alive, and that's all that matters to you."

Neal can't argue with the truth of that.

"Go," Snow orders. "Come back for us if you can. But if there comes a time where you need to make a choice, you know what that choice needs to be."

"Good luck to you," Neal mutters, before running off into the jungle.

Snow sits back down, clutching his hand in his once more.

"Snow," he manages to choke out. "What have you done?"

She fights the tears as she looks down at him, her husband's sunken face. She doesn't like being so far from him, and with no one left to see, she takes the chance to lie down next to Charming, huddling as close to him as she can.

"We both know they're going on a wing and a prayer," she murmurs. "It gave Emma hope back, for now, and that's good, that's what she needed to get her focus back on Henry."

Charming coughs. "But the chances of this actually working..."

She shakes her head, and now lets herself cry. "Not good."

"You should have gone with them," Charming demands. "Go on, go after them now, you can catch up."

"I told you I'm not leaving you. It's not happening, Charming. Not this time."

"Emma needs her mother!"

"Emma's mother will be gone when you are!" she cries. "Snow White, Mary Margaret, whomever, anyone Emma knows, anyone Emma might have ever loved, she'll be gone. There will be no fixing me, we both know that, and I don't want her to see that. I don't want her to know what I become after losing you, I don't want to know. I'm not going to do that to her, Charming."

"And what of you, Snow? What happens to you, when I'm gone?"

"I don't know. All I know is right now. Right now, I am going to lie here with my husband, and wait for whatever comes next. That's all I want, is to be with you. You can let me have that, can't you?"

With a last gasp of a strength she would have guessed was gone, Charming turns to face her, reaching out with his left arm to wrap it around her body, pulling her close to him.

"Yes, my love," he finally says, barely audible. "Anything."

Finally, finally, she manages to hold back the sob when it comes.

Resting her head on his chest, she closes her eyes, tries hard to think of all the times she's had with him.

Tries hard not to think of the cool steel of the blade she has hidden at her thigh.

Charming is dying, she knows.

And Snow White will be gone when he is.