A/N: Just a reminder that this story is an exploration of how Emma and Killian's feelings would've manifested no matter the time and place of their meeting. As such, I'm writing it very much like a two-person play in that we will often focus in on a single conversation rather than some high-action plot. I am truly grateful for all your support – reviews, favorites, follows – and hope you continue enjoying this reimagined tale. Also, please remember this is set during 3x21 and 3x22 with the original Zelena conflict. At that time, I (and other CSers) firmly believed Emma already loved Killian, making the plot of my story totally plausible to me. J

Chapter 7

The Dawn of Revelations

A cool wind whipped across the deck of the Jolly Roger, carrying with it the tang of salt and seaweed, and far less pleasant things. Hook's crew had succeeded in swabbing the wooden planks to their former glory, ridding the ship of any evidence of the earlier skirmish, but somehow the scent of death – foreboding and primal – still lingered. Or maybe it was only psychological, much in the same way that my eyes kept finding that patch of wood near the helm where the man I'd slain came to his final rest.

Poetic much, Emma?

I sighed and slumped to rest my elbows against the wooden railing. Something about the waning slivers of moonlight reflecting off the strangely calm waters, or maybe the heavy looks Hook kept sending my way had my thoughts spinning in a definitively melancholic manner. After dropping the bomb on him about my so-called origins, he'd first tried to reveal what he assumed must be a joke on my part, before turning unusually somber. I could clearly discern that his mind was working in overdrive – trying to figure me out, or devise a way to use this knowledge to his best advantage – but he'd yet to clue me into his conclusions.

My gaze settled on the pirate captain in question, noting the way he commanded the attention of everyone on deck, not just the unlucky man roped to the main mast. Blackbeard's minion seemed determined to take his secrets to the grave, though I hoped it wouldn't come to that. I couldn't be sure how I'd react if Hook actually stepped up his game of intimidation to include true violence. Part of me was surprised he'd allowed me to leave his cabin at all, while a logical voice surmised he preferred to keep an eye on me after my big announcement.

I breathed deeply and smoothed my hair behind my ears, turning toward the horizon once more. Lack of sleep crept along the fringes of my mind, waiting to manifest into a full-blown headache. Or maybe it was the fact I'd had little but rum to settle my stomach since dropping through the portal. Had it really been just yesterday that I'd walked out on my family at Granny's? Best not let your thoughts spiral in that direction…nothing to be done about it at the moment, I silently chastised myself.

"You will tell me where Blackbeard was headed or I'll scrape the truth from your severed tongue!" Hook's frustration carried his threat across the entire deck. Turning back, I saw him press the curve of his hook to the restrained man's throat. Something wild and raw crept through my veins, but it wasn't fear or disgust.

The man whimpered, his head twisting helplessly a few inches in an attempt to regain his breath. Hook growled and stepped back. I could tell the captured pirate began spilling his guts in the figurative sense but couldn't make out what he was saying. Suddenly, Hook's gaze swept to me, our eyes locking in a battle I didn't even realize I was a part of.

I felt my lips thin as I pressed them in a tight line. Just what the hell was that man saying? Hook tilted his head once to me before turning to his crew and issuing a command. Several of his men moved toward the restrained man, untying him and dragging him under his arms to the rear hold. Hook waited for the scene on deck to return to normal before making his way to me.

"It's as I suspected; you were spotted by one of Blackbeard's men as we left Weslington. Thinking I'd absconded with his half of the treasure – namely, his portion of the bounty – he pursued us."

"Why are you telling me this?" I questioned, straightening my spine as my eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why now?" The rest of my question hung in the air between us. I'd been after him to tell me what he wanted with Snow White since that damn tunnel, and he'd just smirked in that irritating way of his.

That smirk made its reappearance once more. "As you've entrusted me with one of your secrets, I thought I'd return the favor."

"So you were planning to turn Snow White in?" I shook my head. "You do realize Reg- um, the Evil Queen would probably lock you up right along with her?"

His lips twitched. Sometimes he was far too pleased with himself. Leaning closer, he taunted, "And if it isn't our fair queen I planned to deliver the bandit to?"

It was as if someone came and turned a lamp on in my brain. Of course, how could I be so stupid? Killian wasn't in Neverland when the curse hit; he was protected. At some point in his timeline, he'd allied himself with Cora, ensuring he remained frozen in time on this side of the portals. But had that really happened already?

He wanted me to keep asking, that much was obvious. But was it really such a good idea for me to hear anymore of his plan? We already knew far too much about the other. I'd thought I had the upper hand, that I'd already met this version of Hook before and could therefore anticipate his reactions and motivations, but in reality I was the one who was different; I hardly recognized myself. This whole situation was so far into unchartered waters even an enchanted compass couldn't save us.

Perhaps sensing I wasn't taking the bait he leaned against the railing and motioned out toward the horizon. "We've set a course toward the Wyrnian Straights at the west end of the Enchanted Forest. There's a portside town there which is known for its…discretion. It may be a good place for us to lay anchor as we deliberate over your mission."

"Why are you helping me?" I asked unconsciously.

"I already told you; you saved my life, I feel obliged to pay my due."

"You could argue that you already saved me when you helped me get away from the Queen's guard," I commented, feeling the need to pick at this scab a little more.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're trying to talk me out of helping you."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're letting your chivalrous side show…makes me wonder if a bit of the officer is still alive and kicking."

I knew it was a mistake as soon as I finished speaking. His eyes narrowed even as a smirk of confirmation played at the corner of his mouth. "I never told you about my time in the Navy. Nor do I suspect any 'tavern wenches' disclosed such information as I've not spoken of it to anyone who is still alive to report the tale."

"I saw a paper in your cabin…" I tried for ignorance.

"For someone so attuned to revealing truths, you're quite a terrible liar, love." He sidled closer to me, the faint breeze now carrying the scent of leather and rum in addition to the breaking mist of dawn. Gripping my forearm, he leaned to whisper in my ear, letting his lips trace over my skin as he spoke. "From the moment we met, you've adopted rather familiar airs with me…not to mention this lovely reaction..." I felt his lips turn up into a smile as warmth spread across my cheeks and a slight inhalation of breath caught in my throat. "…and your strange concern over my well-being."

I pulled back at that comment, meeting his knowing gaze head on. Opening my mouth to protest, he quickly silenced me with a finger to my lips. Cocking his head to the side, he continued; "We have already met in your time and place; haven't we?"

"Yes," I whispered.

He nodded readily to himself, eyes glinting with the darkness I knew he wrestled with. "And tell me…have I skinned my Crocodile?" His whole demeanor changed, his mask of vengeance appearing as easily as slipping on a Halloween costume. This was the Hook I remembered from those early days.

I wanted to tell him the truth: that he'd risen above his thirst for vengeance and reclaimed the morality of his youth. I wanted him to know how proud I was of how he fought every day like one of the heroes, even when he made stupid decisions like not telling me about the curse from the Wicked Witch or trying to sneak Henry out of town. How he had somehow – without me even noticing – become my best friend, and the one person I could count on to always be there, no matter the cost to himself. No, he hadn't skinned his Crocodile – he'd done so much more.

But how could I? As much as I didn't want him to spend several more decades suffering with this intense hatred, it was truly the one thing that fueled his unnatural existence. Without his quest to find a way to meet Gold on a somewhat even playing field, would he ever end up beneath a pile of dead bodies in some ransacked town outside the breadth of the curse?

"I can't tell you about the future and not affect this past I'm trapped in," I finally said with honesty.

"But is it a future I'd even be remotely interested in helping you reclaim? Surely you must see my side of this; if I help you – at great personal cost, I might add – what's to guarantee it would be worth it in the end?" He twirled a strand of my hair between his fingers and let his eyes drop to focus on my mouth.

"You always were selfish," I snapped, stepping away. "…thinking of yourself instead of others." I wanted to bite my tongue even as the same accusation I'd hurled at him once before flew past my lips.

"And why shouldn't I?" he laughed sardonically. "I'm a survivor, lass; you don't live through what I've lived through without making bloody well sure the reward outweighs the risk."

"Dammit, Hook! I have a son!" That seemed to rattle him, much as it had the first time I'd used Henry as leverage…and the second. Why not use the same approach that gained his help the last time? "I have a son, and I need to get back to him…to my family…home. And I can't do it alone. Why not be a part of something greater than yourself?" My eyes flickered between his, and suddenly, despite the years which hadn't yet passed, I was speaking to my Killian. Placing my hand over his, I infused my voice with as much sincerity as I could. "I need you. I never say that, not to anyone, but it's true. You want to know if this future will be worth it? Yesterday, before I fell through the time portal, it was you who helped me realize how important home is."

He shook his head minutely to the side. "That doesn't sound like me-"

"-In my time, you're not alone. There are people who care about you," I interjected.

That seemed to give him pause. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft. "And you, lass…are you one of these people?"

Yes! My heart screamed. If I was honest with myself, so did my mind. For once, both parts of my psyche were perfectly in sync, and yet I couldn't seem to force the truth into the open. Once again, the urge to step forward and kiss him tugged against my conscience with the strength of an industrial magnet. Several long beats passed in quiet contemplation, enough that my lack of words spoke more than any actual speech could.

Hook finally turned back toward the open water. "Dawn is approaching. You'll need to return to my cabin soon, lest we encounter other crews upon docking. I suppose you've some sort of plan in mind once we're back on land?"

I swallowed thickly, tamping down the decidedly unhelpful swell of emotion which had emerged moments before. "Magic sent me here…seems logical that magic can send me back."

"What of your own magic? You mentioned you were learning –"

"I lost it." I couldn't help but glance at his lips. "Recently."

"Dare I ask where you endeavor to procure another source?"

That, of course, was the $64,000 question. There were many sources of magic in this realm during this part of the timeline, but none that would take too kindly to my plight, nor welcome Captain Hook with open arms. Just how well would it go over to bring Killian to see Rumpelstiltskin? Or attempt to sway Regina into helping the future savior? Cora and Zelena were also low on my list, which only left the fairies, and they were unreliable at best. If only we could find a way to restore my magic, instead.

You could always try the beanstalk again, my mind supplied before we were interrupted.

"Cap'n; sumthin' ain't right with the prisoner," spoke a heavily accented crewman. "Mr. Smee sent me to alert ye and escort the lady back to yer quarters."

"Bloody hell," Hook scoffed, and then looked to me. "You're to return straight to the cabin and stay there until I return."

"But-"

"-I'll have no arguments," he insisted. Turning to the other pirate, he said: "And you'll do well to steer clear of my quarters and inform all other members of the crew that the 'captain's cargo' is off limits to all who value their manhood."

"Understood, Cap'n," the man replied, his gaze directed pointedly away from me. Hook swept his arm forward, waiting for me to precede him.

"You know, where I come from I'm actually pretty handy at interrogations. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" I asked.

"As much as I'm sure I'd enjoy seeing you wield your formidable charms for the sake of intimidation, I must decline your offer; my men have already grown too curious about your presence. It's best that you recommit yourself to your original role if we're to stave off unwanted questions." He paused then suddenly gripped my elbow, turning me to face him. "In fact, why not provide them with a blatant reminder." Pulling me forward, he pressed his lips firmly to mine, his hand moving to tangle in my hair.

It was Neverland all over again. My mouth moved against his in a perfectly choreographed routine that came as naturally as breathing. I felt the smooth leather of his coat and the slickness of the hair at the nape of his neck as my fingers wandered beyond my control. The memory of his lifeless lips draining my magic just days before – cold and frightening – vanished in a rush of desire and something else…something more. He was vital and warm, and tasted just like the man in my memory. I knew it was the feelings for my Killian eagerly rushing to meet this past version without any sort of compunction that his awareness didn't match my own, but for one shining moment I didn't care. He'd started it this time, and I'd damn well enjoy it.

Trying to regain control, I pulled away first, though it didn't stop him from smiling down at me with the pride of all men. "I believe that should convince a fair few of your esteem." His words clearly reinforced his purpose, yet I could read him well enough to note the spark in his blue eyes. I was getting to him. The trouble was I couldn't be sure if that was a good thing or not.

Better add a memory potion to your list of magical needs, my conscience prodded. There's no forgetting a kiss like that.

Schooling my features into a neutral expression, I replied as flatly as possible; "That was a one-time thing. I hope it's out of your system, now."

His answering smirk was challenge enough and my pulse started racing. Somehow, even in this time and place, he saw right through me. There was no firewood to be collected this time, and he would be the one walking away in a moment, not me. Despite any comment made otherwise, we both knew who'd claimed the upper hand in this ongoing tête-à-tête.

Beyond Hook's shoulder, the dawning sun crested over the horizon, bathing his profile in rays of soft purple and gold. An uncomfortable awareness slid slowly through my body. His smile softened into one I'd come to cherish in my own time, and in that moment, I knew…I was in love with Killian Jones. It didn't matter that the man standing before me didn't possess our shared experiences; his soul was the same as ever and mine seemed to recognize it.

This man was wild…untamed…confident in his course and already attuned to my attraction for him. And I was making this entirely too easy for him. How stupid was I to essentially put my heart on a platter for the charming pirate captain to play with? I wanted to trust him…wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and hopefully steer him back into the light without his quest for vengeance, but if he didn't have something else to fight for, would he even bother? I wasn't so modest as to not realize his quest to win my heart had replaced his need for vengeance in our own time.

Meeting his gaze firmly, I reiterated my sentiment. "A one-time thing. You'll help me get home, and then get back to whatever it was you were doing before. It will be like I was never here."

I didn't believe it even as it left my own lips. Was it any surprise he didn't either?

"I highly doubt that, love. But you'll have no trickery from me. When we come together again – and make no mistake, we will – it will be because you want me as much as I want you."

I blinked several times, trying to stave off the jolt of recognition. Déjà vu or foreshadowing, or perhaps history repeating itself – it was all the same.

"Captain, come quickly," the voice of Mr. Smee blessedly interrupted whatever was to come next. He eyed me warily from beneath his red cap, apparently no less suspicious of me than he'd been when I'd first followed his captain aboard.

"Go," I said. "I'll study the maps in your cabin while you deal with whatever the problem is."

"Aye," he replied, then pitched his volume higher for the benefit of Mr. Smee. "We'll be docking soon, then you can be off to reunite with your family." He tilted his head down once, silently acknowledging the weight of what had just passed between us before turning with a flare of his heavy coat to follow his first mate to the cargo hold.

I spared a moment for one further glance out over the sea. Hook claimed we were close to port, but only open water stretched in every direction, shimmering with the first blush of morning sun. The shadows of night had fled in the wake of day's dawning, revealing a fresh beginning both figuratively and literally. Lack of sleep and nourishment certainly contributed to the rawness taking a toll on my body, but it was the total vulnerability creeping just behind my eyes that worried me the most. He could hurt me; but worse, I could hurt us both if I messed this up…had maybe already messed this up beyond repair by screwing around with feelings that shouldn't even exist yet. I needed to get home, but what kind of home would be waiting for me when I did?

Only time would tell.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading. You would honor me if you took a moment to leave a review...

I'm curious...where do YOU think Emma should get the magic to return home from?