"A hat," Emma spits, huffing as she lifts her ankle and shakes the loose snow from her boot. "I can't believe you're making us trek through five miles of backwoods all for a stupid hat."

Killian exhales loudly through his nose. "Good to see you've got the princess act nailed down, love." His tone is terse and patronizing, and she sneers at him. Now she remembers why she doesn't like him. For a minute back there, she'd almost forgotten.

"Killian," Robin chides lowly. He looks to Emma, eyebrows raised apologetically. "We'll explain it all soon, I promise. We're not far now."

Emma flicks her eyes between the two men. "Fine, I'll just pretend like this makes any sense to me," she snaps, swiveling on her heel. She gets but a few feet before Killian clears his throat. She stops, already just sensing his smugness before she turns around.

"Other way, darling."

He's still chuckling when she delivers a swift punch to the throat.

Emma rubs her hands up and down her arms, shivering under her red cloak. The sun is low over the treetops now, and at this point she's just considering breaking the damn door down herself. "I swear Killian, if you don't knock in the next two seconds, I'll—"

"Hush, Swan, I'm trying to think."

Her nose wrinkles. "What did you call me?"

He flushes, if briefly, his eyes darting down. "The tattoos, on your wrists. One's a flower, one's a swan. I figured you might prefer Swan to Buttercup." He pauses, flashing her a bright smile. "It's a pet name. Be flattered."

She blinks back blankly. "Well, I'm not." Inwardly, however, her mind races as she pulls her hands closer to her chest. She definitely hadn't expected him to notice those. No one ever does.

Killian shoots her a look, like he's rolling around a thought—a dangerous thought, judging by the curious expression on his face—but just as he opens his mouth, Robin decides to cut in. "Do you want me to try, mate? I think I remember the way the knock goes."

Sighing, Killian breaks, glancing away from Emma. He steps back and gestures towards the door. "Be my guest."

Robin scoots forward, raising his fist. He knocks in two quick beats, pauses, and gives one slow knock followed by two more fast ones.

Henry's eyes widen in time with Emma's, both immediately recognizing the code. It's the one Pinocchio had taught her years ago, to use in case she'd ever fallen in trouble. He had made her promise she wouldn't use it unless she really had to, which she'd written off as part of his typical theatrics.

(He's, after all, still the most ominous person she's ever known. He even beats Killian, which says something.)

She and Henry exchange glances, but she shakes her head as if to warn him not to mention it. Luckily, neither Killian nor Robin seem to notice, waiting eagerly to see if the door will open.

And, after a long, tense moment, it does.

A lock creaks, and the door swings in, revealing a tall, thin young woman with dark blonde hair that hangs flatly at her elbows. She glances between them, appearing unimpressed.

"Grace," Killian greets, his voice warming with charm, much to Emma's inexplicable annoyance. She shoots him an indignant look. Flirting now, really? As if reading Emma's thoughts, he flashes her a quick wink. She rolls her eyes away and crosses her arms, scowling.

Grace steps back, ushering them in. "I was wondering if you were ever going to remember the knock," she says, quickly scanning the forest beyond them as they move past the threshold. She shuts the door, the lock re-entering its place oddly deafening in Emma's ears. She peeks over her shoulder, shivering slightly as the oddest sense of foreboding passes over her.

Robin pales. "You heard us outside?"

Grace rolls her eyes, stepping past them and moving into a back room. Emma hears the tinkling of glasses and assumes it's the kitchen. "I think the whole forest heard you," she calls, laughing. "You're sure you weren't followed?"

"With the route Killian made us take? Definitely," Emma huffs, though she's pretty sure Grace wasn't talking to her.

The young woman emerges from the kitchen a moment later, carrying a tray full of tea. She waves them over to the couch, setting the drinks down on a small wooden table.

The group settles in as Grace pours them their tea. "We're just glad you were home. I hear your father travels often as of late," Robin murmurs.

"Indeed," Grace replies quietly, sipping her brew. "He's tracking a dark wizard who might be able to help us. Pinocchio sent word you might be coming, so I stayed behind." She shifts her gaze towards Emma, narrowed curiously. "Gods, she looks just like her."

"Aye," Killian murmurs distractedly, his attention on Emma. His lips are pressed together tightly, staring at her with an indiscernible look.

Grace watches Emma for a moment, her expression equally strange. Emma juts out her chin, defensive under her scrutiny. But it's not just that—there's something unsettling about the way she looks at her. Like a fire has been lit behind her eyes; Emma suddenly realizes why she didn't recognize the expression before.

It's hope.

Emma lifts the cup to her lips to conceal her frown. This whole con keeps getting stranger and stranger, and she can't seem to shake the oddest feeling of sinking, almost as if she's been falling down a rabbit hole without realizing it.

Savior was just meant to be a word, not an emotion. She doesn't need…anyone needing her. Henry already does and that's more than enough for her. Maybe she should just get out now while she still can; take Henry and run. Never look back.

She senses Killian's eyes on her, but as she glances up, she's not prepared for the intensity of his stare. His eyebrows are deeply buried into his forehead, and his mouth is set in a small line, worry knotted into his expression as if he were reading her mind.

They hold each other's eyes for a long moment, but she breaks first, blinking down at the distorted reflection in her teacup. Somehow it feels more accurate than a looking glass.

The spell broken, Killian clears his throat and turns to Grace. "If your father is away, is the, ah, hat, still here?"

"I just said he was traveling. I didn't say by which means," Grace replies. She sighs, wincing. "But I'm not supposed to use it. He thinks it's too risky." She chances a quick look to Emma, biting her lip. "But I don't care what Papa thinks. We all have to play a part in this, if it's going to work. He will understand."

Emma wriggles in her seat, her blood starting to boil. "You know what," she snaps, throwing her hands into the air. "I've had enough of this ominous, end-of-the-world bullshit! Either you quit keeping me in the dark, or Henry and I walk out, right now. I want answers, and I swear to the Gods if you say one more time that this is need-to-know, I will gut—"

"Shh," Robin hisses suddenly, holding up his palm in front of her.

Her face blooms red with anger, and she rises to her feet. "Are you kidding me? The hell—"

"No, Swan," Killian whispers, now standing as well. His voice is gravely low, sending a shiver up her spine. "Listen."

A tense moment drapes over them like a blanket of snow, the coldness filling her toes with dread. It's quiet. Then, slowly, a scraping sound—like a talon, Emma thinks—grazes the roof.

Another quiet moment passes, and then the room bursts to life.

Grace screams as a body slams down against the window behind her. It barrels back a second later, and a baboon comes crashing through the glass. Robin leaps for his bow, and Killian unsheathes his sword, hopping over the wooden table and sending the tea smashing to the floor. "Get the hat!" He shouts, his weapon raised high overhead.

Emma grabs Henry and pushes herself in front of him, her knife already whipped from it's hiding spot in her boot. Three more baboons break through the thatched ceiling, and Grace screams again, covering her head and dropping to her knees. "Grace!" Robin yells impatiently, lancing his bow. "The hat!"

Pulling herself together with a shudder, she crawls towards the back of the room while the other three fend off the swooping attacks of the baboons. Henry watches her shaking hands as she unlatches a wooden chest in a dark corner. She extracts a strangely-shaped, yellowing box from its contents, and turns quickly, clutching it firmly against her chest.

A baboon drops from the rafters, swooping and screeching overhead. It dives suddenly, beelining for Emma. "No!" Grace yells, dropping the box. Henry watches as it falls, the lid opening as it does. A large purple top hat spills to the floor, and Henry leaps for it while Grace charges towards Emma, who is currently fending off another monkey with her knife, unaware of the incoming attack from behind. Grace leaps in front of the flying baboon's claws, sending a bloody stripe up her skin as the talons break through the fabric of her dress. She howls in pain, but the baboon sinks its grip into her, lifting her up into the air.

Robin yells her name, but the monkey jerks violently with her weight, and the sudden movement must have knocked her unconscious because she dangles limply in the monkey's claws. It lifts into the air, dodging an arrow, and disappears through the whole in the roof with Grace still in its clutches.

Killian spears his sword through his simian opponent with a grunt, his eyes wide with fear as he turns around. His attention immediately falls on Emma, a flash of relief darting across his features when she appears unharmed.

"I got the hat!" Henry shouts, running towards Emma and Killian. "What now?"

"We have to get it to work!" Killian yells back, waving his sword in front of them in attempts to block the swooping attacks of the remaining baboons.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Emma screams, watching as Robin unleashes arrow after arrow towards the ceiling. Maybe she underestimated him. Maybe she underestimated all of this. She thinks of Grace, running in front of the claws that were meant for her. Why the hell would she do that? Why would she sacrifice herself for a stranger?

"It's a portal," Killian explains, his sword still gesturing madly. "I don't know how it bloody works!"

"Are you kidding me?" Emma screeches, shooting him an incredulous look. She exchanges glances with Henry, and seeing the fear in his eyes pushes her into action. "Give me the hat, Henry!" She reaches for it, and the instant her fingers grip the brim, it begins to glow and shake. It drops from her hands and begins swirling on the floor. A black hole forms in its center, growing bigger and bigger until Emma and Henry are pressed against its edge, staring down into the whirling vacuum. The wind emanating from the portal is strong enough to send the remaining monkeys scattering, struggling to get lower to the floor and howling with anger.

Killian glances over his shoulder, his eyes going wide. "How did you—well, right then!" He shouts, "In you go!"

She gapes at him, her golden hair whipping angrily around her face. "Sure buddy, I'll just jump into the fucking black hole—ahh!" Her voice quickly shifts into a scream as Killian's hand shoves against her, sending her toppling into the hole.

"Insufferable lass," he mutters darkly, and then glances up to meet Henry's look, terror stricken across his young face. Killian raises an eyebrow, challenging him. Henry swallows palatably, plugs his nose, and jumps into the portal. "Robin, our ride is here!"

"Thought you'd never say that!" The archer bellows back, releasing one last arrow before leaping across the room and towards the hole in the floor. Sharing one last look, the two men laugh, and disappear into the nothingness.

Emma meets the ground (ground?) with a thud, quickly followed by the sound of Henry's body hitting the floor. A moment later, Killian and Robin follow in suit, albeit landing much more gracefully.

She groans, pushing herself up on her palms as she blows a strand of blonde hair out of her face. "I'm gonna kill him," she mutters, wincing as her body protests the movement.

"Well, I think that went rather well," she hears Killian remark. At that, she hoists herself up, her eyes rimmed with anger. She marches towards him, and immediately slams her palms against his chest, pushing him backwards.

"Well?" She yells, pushing him again. "You think that went well? That girl is gone, probably arrested, or dead, you nearly got me and Henry killed, and then pushed us down a portal, and now you're saying it went well?"

"Pushing you down that portal damn well saved your life," Killian hisses, his pupils blackened with emotion, "and Grace knew the risks of her involvement." At the severity of his tone, Emma stills. She pants loudly, gaping at him.

"No more," she says after a long moment, her breathing still uneven. "No more. I want out. This is too much. I don't need people…sacrificing themselves for me. I'm not even the princess. I can't be needed like this. I—"

"Emma," Killian interrupts, stepping forward and lacing his fingers around her wrists. His thumb brushes against her swan tattoo, and she shivers slightly under his touch. He glances down at it, that curious expression from before resurfacing on his features, like he wants to ask about it. Sighing, he tips his chin up, returning his eyes to hers. "Too late, love," he murmurs gently. His voice is warm, almost affectionate, as if he understands her panic. Still, he doesn't bend. "There's no going back, not anymore."

Emma holds his gaze for a moment longer before sighing and wriggling out his grip. She weaves her fingers through her hair, exhaling noisily. It occurs to her that she has no idea where she is, and she glances around her surroundings, surprised to realize it's some sort of room filled with dozens of doors. Brightly colored and unmarked, each door is different, but she can sense each pulsing with magic. "Where the hell are we?" She mumbles.

"Inside the hat," Killian replies, scratching behind his ear. "Like I said, it's a portal. This was the quickest—and easiest—way to get where we need to go, trust me."

Emma stares at him, her expression vacant. "Are you finally going to tell me where that is? Or do I need to wait until I'm about to die before I get the next puzzle piece?"

"Oz," Killian says tightly, turning towards an emerald green curtain. "We're going to Oz."

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this story still lives! i haven't forgotten about it. and i'm determined to finish something, for once. reviews are encouraging!