A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys, and also for the cruel cliffhanger that I left last time. My days have been busier than ever and so it might take some time for me to update chapters. However, you should know that I never stop writing completely; I devote a little time to writing every day. I will be sure to make these chapters long and worth the wait. The same goes for my one-shot series and other stories, for those that read them.

Without further ado, enjoy the chapter!

"Lancelot, stop! You'll rip out your stitches!" Emma cried out as he carried her away from Frankenstein's gloomy castle. She had tried everything she could think of to reason with him, to no avail. The threat of ripping open his stitches would not work, either, she realized. Even if Lancelot's health was at risk, he was more concerned with her safety.

This called for drastic measures.

"Lancelot, I order you to put me down this instant!"

"You tried the angry princess line already," he replied calmly. Emma pounded on his back. If the matter wasn't so urgent, she would suspect he was getting a kick out of her frustration.

"O-kay," she sighed, dragging out the word. "How about the fact that you're stumbling like a drunk man on a very narrow cliff?" It was true, and it set her nerves on edge each time he swayed. There was nothing to see beyond the path except eternal blackness. Every time Lancelot leaned a little too far, she envisioned herself falling into that abyss.

"I can make it. I've endured worse," he insisted, and he would correct his stance again. It was a precarious dance that Emma wanted no part of. Nevertheless, she buried her face in his collar, like she had done as a little girl, and waited to see if they would reach the bottom.

They did. All of a sudden, Emma felt the ground even out at the bottom of the hill. They had come to the end of the narrow path, in one piece. Of course, the rapid change in terrain made Lancelot falter and he nearly dropped her.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He hissed in pain, but carried on. They made it as far as the cemetery gates before Lancelot grew weak again. This time, all his strength was lost and he fell to his knees, as though bent in prayer. Emma rolled out of his arms and landed hard on her back. She eyed the cemetery warily; if he actually meant to escort her through it, they would most likely end up in an open grave.

"Emma," Lancelot gasped. She whipped her head around in alarm. He still hadn't risen from his knees, which now wobbled with the effort to hold him upright. One hand was pressed against his side, directly over his wound. When he pulled his hand away, it was slick with blood, the color a disturbingly vibrant red.

"I guess this is a bad time to say I told you so. You ripped open your stitches. Here, lie back," she ordered, pushing on his shoulders.

At first he resisted, trying to regain his footing to continue his rescue mission, but his strength wavered and he collapsed to the ground. Emma rolled him onto his back. She tore a strip of lace from the bottom of her dress, balled it up, and pressed it over his open wound, in hopes of staunching some of the bleeding. At least it was red lace.

"I have to get help or you might die," she said fearfully, watching the blood flow from him. There was a lump caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She had to be the strong one now. All she could think of was Rumpel-he would know what to do. She tried to heal Lancelot, but she didn't have enough handle on her magic to heal anything bigger than a papercut, especially on the verge of panic.

She laid his hand atop the red lace to hold it there and scrambled to her feet. Lancelot reached up to catch her hand.

"Not alone," he panted. His grasp weakened and fell away altogether, leaving her only with the chill of his touch. Emma's brows furrowed. What had he meant by that? That he didn't want her wandering off alone? That he didn't want to be left alone? Or...

A black shadow darted over the cemetery gates. As soon as she looked, it was gone, but she could have sworn it was the shadow of a person. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she had the unnerving sense of being watched.

Lancelot was right. They were not alone.

"There's something out here with us. Maybe...it's attracted to the blood." It was a frightening thought that froze the blood in her own veins, but she couldn't help staring down at the pool of blood soaking through his shirt. There it was again: the paranoid sensation that something was close behind her, only for a shadow to slide away when she turned.

What had Rumpel said before? Lace is tempting to the worst of monsters...What sort of monsters were these?

"We need to leave," Emma whispered and bent to help Lancelot to his feet. She slung his arm around her shoulders and managed to pull him into a sitting position. That small movement made him cry out in agony and he slumped back, merely dead weight. He could not be moved. Nor could she leave him here to bait the monsters of the night while she ran for help.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and propelled her away from Lancelot. This wasn't Rumpel, as she secretly hoped. It was a lanky figure of a man, hunching over Lancelot and spreading the folds of a black cape as he went in for the kill. From behind, he looked like a giant bat.

The monster fixated on the bloodstain and swooped down to...drink his blood? Lancelot was fast enough to unsheath his sword and run it through the monster's stomach. The figure paused. He did not howl in pain or fall to the ground or die. To Emma's horror, he pulled out the sword like it was a sliver and tossed it away. It landed in the dirt at Emma's feet.

The monster seized Lancelot by the throat and pinned him down as he bent his dark head to the bleeding wound-

"Hey!" The creature reared his head and slowly turned his eyes on her. Black, soulless eyes set above two bloodstained fangs. She picked up the sword and struck her shoulder. The searing pain brought tears to her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and refused to cry out. Fresh blood trickled down her shoulder, rich as rubies. "You want blood? Take me instead. Leave him be."

The creature glanced from Emma to Lancelot, calculating. He bent down again, but instead of drinking, he sniffed deeply. Perhaps he longed for the freshest drink. Then he made his decision-and released Lancelot.

"Emma...no..." Lancelot moaned, but she was already running for the path that led to Frankenstein's castle. Running toward Rumpelstiltskin, who would surely know how to handle such a monster. The creature was swift and blocked her path before she even saw him move. She made a quick turn and dashed into the cemetery, dancing among the open graves.

She needed a weapon of some sort, but if the sword didn't even work, what hope was there? No, there had to be something. Every monster had a weakness, even the Dark One.

The creature caught up to her easily enough. He knocked into her from behind and she teetered on the edge of an open grave. All it took was one last poke and down she fell, all six feet, into a broken casket. The lid had been shattered, most likely by Frankenstein when he robbed these graves of their corpses.

There was a particularly large wooden shard within reach...

Her new admirer was not ready to forget about her just yet. He leaped into the grave after her, landing gracefully beside her. In such a narrow space, she was easily cornered, and he held her down by the throat. Feral excitement glinted in those black eyes and his lips curled away to expose two deadly fangs, poised to kill. All he needed was one good strike at her neck to rip open her skin and take all the blood he desired.

No, Emma thought defiantly. I can't die here in some other world, in someone else's grave. I've come too far...Lancelot needs me...

Her fingers fumbled over the cool soil, searching for that wooden shard. The creature took his time in lowering his head to her neck, savoring his victory. Too soon she felt those sharp fangs graze her skin, and a rough tongue darted out to taste the fallen blood.

Her fingers wrapped around the stake and she thrust it upwards. All at once, the creature halted and she watched the life drain from his eyes. He flitted away from her, with the wooden stake protruding from his chest. Even in this colorless world, the change was noticeable: his skin paled, the soulless eyes were emptier than ever, and his body curled in on itself, crumbling into ash at her feet.

Emma stared at the pile of ash in horror. Only a few seconds ago, it had been a living thing...and she had killed it. She had never killed anything before, and she didn't like how it felt as that cold truth settled on her shoulders. It made her feel victorious, powerful, alive.

She didn't have a choice...right?

She had never killed anyone, but it really hadn't been a person. It had been a monster, intent on draining her of blood. At least, she repeated that string of logic through her head to console herself. Pressing into the corner, she tucked her legs against her chest, trying to get as far away as she could from the ash.

Something else jumped down into the grave with her. Another bloodsucking monster? Instinctively, Emma snatched up the stake from the ash and aimed it. She met a pair of familiar, albeit alarmed, amber eyes.

"Whoa, Princess, watch where you're wielding that thing. You could puncture a heart or two," Rumpel said, raising his hands in the air. "It's only me. Come, put the stake down."

She lowered the stake and was overcome with relief to see him there. Her gaze lingered on that pile of ash, once more feeling dismayed by what she had done. Rumpel crouched down beside her and she sought out the comfort of his arms, burying her head in his shoulder. He was gracious enough to hold her and whisper soothing words in her ear.

"You're here with me; there's nothing more to fear. I see you've found yourself a vampire. Nasty creatures with unusual diets."

"I...it wanted to hurt Lancelot...I had to draw it away...I didn't know what else to do...I never meant..." Her words were lost in a gasp as she choked back a sob. Only then did feeling start to return to her and she realized that she was frozen and trembling. Rumpel's arms tightened around her body, offering her warmth and protection. Gently, he stroked her hair and Emma found it oddly peaceful.

"Shh," he cooed in her ear. "It's alright now, dearie. It'll never hurt you again. I must say, you handled it well." He sounded impressed, even as he took the stake from her hand. Her head shot up.

"Handled it well? He's dead because of me! I actually...killed something. What would my parents think?" She was torn between justifying her actions and guilt for carrying them out. All her life, her parents taught her to value life, no matter which one it was, and never to sink to the level of someone like Regina...but she'd only been defending herself...

Rumpel did the only think he could think of to snap her out of her dark reverie: he caught her hands and brought them to his lips. The tender kiss commanded every ounce of her attention, as tendrils of pleasure skated along her frayed nerves.

"There is a difference between taking a life because you have the power to do so, and defending yourself from those who mean you harm. Think of it this way: it was either him or you. I'm glad it wasn't you." She thought she might have blushed. It was the most affection he'd shown her yet. With a soft touch, he brushed her shoulder and healed the cut she had made for herself.

"Lancelot," she gasped, shooting to her feet. He was still up there, possibly bleeding out. Rumpel boosted her up out of the grave and she ran to her wounded friend. Rumpel was left to fly out of the hole like a genie from a bottle. "He's lost a lot of blood. Please, help him."

"This is the man that put your life in danger in the first place-"

"Please," she repeated. Rumpel's lips drew into a thin line as he considered it. She was convinced he would refuse. She was surprised he even worried about her safety, aside from his vow of protection. Then he surprised her further by kneeling next to Lancelot and placing a hand over his wound. In a heartbeat, it was healed, and Lancelot's eyelids fluttered.

"Thank you," Emma said to Rumpel, who only responded with a half-hearted m-hm.

"Emma?" Lancelot's voice already sounded much stronger than before and the agony eased from his face. He looked relieved to see her alive and well, though he shifted away from Rumpel. Suddenly, he panicked and scanned the cemetery. "Emma, that creature-"

She rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, it's gone. I...I killed it." Lancelot's eyes widened in awe and disbelief.

"And a lucky thing, too," Rumpel added. He threw Lancelot a disappointed look. "Vampires are not easy creatures to defeat, especially when they are bloodthirsty. Do you realize the amount of danger you put her in?"

"Rumpel," she scolded lightly. He sounded one step away from punishing Lancelot with a fireball.

"No, he's right," Lancelot admitted. Rumpel raised his eyebrows, followed by a low mutter: "Of course I am." Emma waved him into silence. "I did my best to rescue you. Instead, I only led you into greater danger. You have my sincerest apologies, Emma, and it shall never happen again. No matter how far you go on this journey, I shall be ready to protect you. I'll accept any punishment you wish for my failure."

"Wonderful," Rumpel grumbled, "now we have a babysitter." Emma glared up at him.

"Hm...your punishment will be bedrest until I say otherwise. And you'll return to the Enchanted Forest and reassure my parents that there's nothing to worry about." Lancelot was ready to object, but she held up her hand, refusing to hear it. "Rumpelstiltskin was the one who found me...and he'll be able to protect me from now on. Right?"

She glanced up at Rumpel.

"Right," he agreed, almost sheepishly. Emma helped Lancelot rise to his feet. Even if his wound had been healed, he was still weary from everything he'd been through. Nevertheless, he straightened up as best he could and stuck his hand out to Rumpel. The imp cocked his head and stared at it suspiciously, as if it might be a cruel trick. Hesitantly, he placed his hand in Lancelot's and yelped when Lancleot tugged him forward.

"Take care of her," he warned, "or we'll meet again."

"Duly noted," Rumpel said and pried Lancelot's fingers away. Emma admired her friend's undying concern, and also Rumpel's oath of protection. The two men said no more about it as they walked on either side of her up the rocky path. "Back to the castle, then. I have unfinished business with Frankie."

Emma couldn't help but notice he wasn't as gleeful about it as usual.

...

When they returned to the castle, Emma proved she was serious about Lancelot's bedrest by escorting him upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Avoid the last room on the left, she recalled. Along the way, he griped about how he was fit enough to battle a dragon blindfolded and that he should be minding her health instead of the other way around, but he fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the pillow.

Afterwards, Emma joined Rumpel and Frankie in the mad laboratory as they carried out their unfinished business...whatever that was. This time Rumpel let her stay, unwilling to let her out of his sight again. From now on, she expected that she would be sewn to his hip. It was still a welcome sight to witness his relief when she was there, so preferred was she to his old acquaintance.

Frankenstein was another matter entirely. When he glanced up at Emma descending the stairs, his eyes darkened with wicked intention and she had the urge to escape his reach. She crossed to Rumpel's side of the room as quickly as she could, all the while sensing Frankenstein tracking her every step.

"Ah, how glad I am to see you safe and sound, Emma," Frankenstein drawled. Even the way he said her name made her skin crawl with goosebumps-and not the good kind. To Rumpel, he boasted: "I knew you would come to your senses and return her to me. Come along, my lady of lace."

He snapped his fingers and beckoned her forward, as if she was a dog. That was it; she was burning the dress.

"Excuse me?" she cried out. She looked up at Rumpel, who wore a furious expression. He stepped slightly in front of her.

"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Frankenstein continued, clucking his tongue disapprovingly. Rumpel looked like he wanted to rip Frankenstein's tongue out. "The imp and I made a deal recently. For something he so desperately needs, he has promised you to my indefinite care."

Emma ran her hand along Rumpel's arm, begging him to turn and face her, hoping he would tell her it wasn't true. His lips curled away from his teeth and he would have grabbed ahold of Frankenstein, if the table wasn't in the way.

"Don't lie! We haven't come to any sort of agreement; we're still haggling over the price! You named it and I rejected it! Name another!" He and Frankenstein continued to play Ring-Around-the-Table.

"There's nothing else you can give me. My brother is long dead and not even your infernal magic can revive him. I am a lonely man, Rumpelstiltskin, and she is the perfect one to ease it. So hand her over, or it's no deal."

Rumpelstiltskin lunged over the table, only to land on his face where Frankenstein stood a moment prior. The mad scientist ran in circles around the table, barely escaping Rumpelstiltskin's claws. At one point, Rumpel snagged Frankie's ankles and tripped him, and the two fought like boys in the yard.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Emma intercepted, dragging Rumpel away. Then she charged for his opponent. There was no use stopping her and Rumpel didn't try. In fact, he looked entertained by her intrusion. Frankenstein took a step back as she jabbed a finger in his face. "Do I look like a piece of property to you? I am not an item to be bargained for and I am not his to promise away!"

Rumpel looked a little sore from the reminder.

"So you'll give yourself to me of your own accord? A smart woman-I like that," Frankenstein said. Emma wrenched back her arm and drove it into his jaw. The mad scientist went down in a heap, rubbing the spot she struck. Rumpel broke into a fit of shrill giggles.

"What did I tell you, Frankie? This one knows how to handle herself," he said between snickers. Emma crouched over Frankenstein and clutched a handful of his lab coat, yanking him up to meet her eye.

"Listen, all I want is one kiss," Frankenstein exclaimed.

Emma didn't like the idea of kissing him, for all his sliminess, but it would knock two birds with one stone. Not only would it silence Frankenstein, but it would prove he was not the man she was looking for. Of that, however, she was already certain. Above her, Rumpel looked grim when she loosened her hold on Frankenstein.

"Fine. One kiss, if it'll shut you up."

"On the lips," he demanded.

"On the lips."

"For three seconds-or more."

"Rumpel will keep time."

"And perhaps a little tongue-" Emma raised her fist. "It was worth a try."

Before Emma could change her mind, she clamped her mouth over his and tried to forget what she was doing and with whom. For some reason, he tasted like dirt and whiskey...and something rotten.

"One-two-three-okay, you're done," Rumpel announced, stepping in to break the two apart. A low hum began. It definitely wasn't her heartbeat. Something flashed behind them and Emma glimpsed a streak of lightning crackle over the operating table.

It was only a good thing Rumpel hadn't been lounging on it this time.

"Bzzzzt!" Rumpel jolted in place, having accidentally placed his hand on the table at the moment the lightning struck. His eyes bulged in his head, and Emma swore she saw some of that white lightning flicker behind his amber eyes. His hair sizzled, standing on end, his teeth rattled, and his leather pants shed smoke.

The lightning vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Rumpel collapsed to the floor, flopping like a fish out of water.

"Rumpel!" Emma ran to his side and fanned the smoke from his hair. The lightning...That couldn't be a sign of a spark between her and Frankenstein, could it? The thought turned her stomach.

"Sorry. I accidentally pulled the lever," Frankenstein said with a careless shrug.

Emma guided Rumpel's head into her lap and glared accusingly at the mad scientist. Had he been distracted by their kiss and pulled the lever? Or had he been angry for Rumpel's interruption and done it on purpose? She wouldn't put it past him.

"I'm...cough-cough...fine," Rumpel said. He lifted up his head, only to have it droop again. "I'll live. Ooh, my bones ache."

"Interesting," Frankenstein noted, stroking his chin. "You kissed me and yet you run to him. One might assume you had feelings for the monster."

"He's not the monster here," she hissed. Frankenstein's fingers drummed on the lever and she was afraid he would pull it again. Rumpel waved away more of the smoke, coughed deeply, and quivered on his feet. His bones continued to shake and he used anything within reach to steady himself. Anything but the table.

"Our business is settled," Rumpel barked. Frankenstein licked his lips, savoring the taste of Emma's kiss. She had the sudden urge to ask Rumpel to wipe his memory, if not for her moral compass. "We're leaving, before one of us gets fried again or turned into dinner for the vampires. And don't even get me started on the werewolves!"

"Werewolves?" Emma inquired. Outside the castle, something howled in the night.

"Trust me; they're not the type in little red cloaks," he quipped. Rumpel took her by the shoulders and guided her up the stairs. She wasn't exactly sorry to leave that basement, or its master. "For the record, I wouldn't have given you to him," he murmured in her ear.

"I know," she said smugly. She sensed the truth in his words. It gave her a strange thrill to know she was capable of forming that sort of connection with him, enough to make him consider her welfare. Perhaps he wasn't so bad, after all. "Whatever it is you need from him so badly...I hope it's worth it." She still couldn't get rid of the bitter taste of Frankenstein from her mouth. Rumpel nodded solemnly.

"Enjoy kissing your dead women," he called down to Frankenstein.

"Don't worry," the mad scientist shouted back, amidst another spark of lightning. The electric white glow illuminated the stairwell and made their shadows dance eerily. "With these corpses, I can finally make my own bride! The next time you see me, Rumpelstiltskin, I'll be a married man!"

Emma shivered and curled tighter in Rumpel's warm embrace.

"So, how exactly did you two meet?" she asked.

"That's a story I'd rather not tell."

...

About an hour prior, Hook thought the worst thing that ever happened to him was falling flat on his face in an open grave.

Never mind the fact that he couldn't pull himself out; there was the awful stench of rotting corpses to deal with and it was boring down there. All he could do was trace his name in the soil and all he could think of was Emma. He imagined running his hook through those golden curls that radiated like a halo in this drab world.

He drew a heart around their initials with the tip of his hook. It was either that or carving her name on his Milah tattoo, but he wasn't the type to inflict pain on himself.

He was just dozing off in the ruins of the wooden casket when he heard the noise. A soft scrape of a shoe, close to the edge of the grave. The next step was hesitant, carefully chosen; whoever it was, they didn't want to be detected. If he was any other normal, naive human being, he might have missed the sound entirely. Pirates, however, were insecure and alert by habit.

"Who's there? I was just getting off to sleep," he grumbled. The footsteps paused. Did he frighten them away? Oh, he hoped not, or he'd never get out of this grave. Ooh, perhaps it was a woman. Then again, what reasonable woman would be wandering in a cemetery at this time of night? "Listen, mate, could you...lend me a hand? I only have one to speak of and I have dirt in places I never knew I had. That's coming from a pirate!"

Instead of being lifted out like he expected, something jumped down into the grave with him. It was a black, slender thing, possibly a person, creeping toward him. He retreated from it and drew his sword, but soon realized he had backed himself into a corner. The thing lurched forward, barely an arm's length away, and he had no choice but to thrust his sword through its chest.

A wound like that should be enough to kill any man, but the creature tilted its head and stared at the sword in slight confusion. There was no evidence of fear that he could see, or even pain, and, miraculously, it kept on coming. A flash of lightning split the sky and he got a glimpse of its face. Weathered gray skin, soulless black eyes, blood-stained lips stretched back from two sharp fangs. He would bet every last piece of gold in his pocket that it wasn't berry juice.

This was a vampire.

Fortunately, Hook had never met one before, but being a pirate meant he heard tales all across the seas. He even made up a few of his own to spook the townsfolk when they gathered around in the taverns, or the children when they followed him like the Pied Piper.

He had heard about the female vampires being particularly seductive toward handsome human men. They never killed men quickly, instead indulging in dark desires of sex and blood until those human bodies were entirely drained. Too bad this was not a female vampire.

"Take my word for it when I say you don't want a drink from me. I'll get you drunk with one sip," he warned, frantically searching for a way out. There was nowhere to run and the vampire was closing in fast. "I haven't even kissed the girl of my dreams yet! Haven't you ever loved a woman?"

The vampire stopped. Had he gotten through to it? Did this vampire understand or remember love? Was there perhaps a human girl he was desperate to be with forever? The vampire grabbed him by the shoulders and plunged his teeth into Hook's neck. Hook's eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted away.

All of a sudden, the vampire dropped the pirate and spat out the blood on his tongue. That kind of blood was tainted. Too much rum. The vampire left Hook unconscious in the grave as he went in search of tastier meals.

...

Hook stirred again to the sounds of shoveling and really bad singing. With his brain swimming in circles, he couldn't make out the words. Something about a monster mash, whatever that was.

Gradually, he rose from the ground and assessed his wounds. There were two tiny punctures on the side of his neck and it stung every time he touched them. Curse those vampires! At least he wasn't drained of blood.

"Hello out there! Mr...um, Mash?" he called out to the only other being that seemed to lurk in the cemetery. He didn't think it was another vampire; he never heard tales of vampires singing. The shoveling stopped. The soft scrape of footsteps approached the grave. Please don't be another vampire. Please don't be another vampire. Please don't be a singing vampire.

The fair head of a man peered over the edge.

"You seem to be in quite a pickle. Obviously, you aren't familiar with graves. Otherwise, you'd know how to climb out of one." A glint of amusement shined in his gray eye.

"Are you going to gawk all night? Or will you help me out of this hole?" Hook growled none too politely. For some reason, his frustration only lended to the stranger's amusement. He plopped down on the ground at the edge of the grave and took a sheath of paper from inside his...lab coat?

"On the contrary, if I assisted every rat in every maze to reach the cheese, I'd have nothing to observe or discover, would I? I'd rather watch you struggle in that hole and document how long it takes you to climb out of it. With one hand and a hook, too. Fascinating." The man scribbled something on his paper. Hook leaped up, trying to drag him down, but the scientist scurried out of reach. "Subject...exhibits...signs of...violent behavior...and resentment..."

Hook cursed under his breath.

"Subject...believes...invoking the name...of my mother will...work in his favor," the scientist eagerly jotted away. At this rate, he was never getting out of this hole. Not unless he found a way to deal with the mad scientist.

"Would you consider my plight? I have lost my...wife. I am desperately searching for her. Perhaps you've seen her. About yay high, fair, with a cloud of golden curls, and eyes that make the forest appear dead as a doornail?" The scientist tapped his pen against his chin.

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid."

"Then you might have seen her abductor. Name's Rumpelstiltskin, but I prefer to call him the Crocodile. He's-"

"Yes, I know who he is," the scientist cut him off. From the sound of it, he and the Crocodile were not on good terms. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, he thought. "Ah, so your wife must be Emma, but it's strange. You don't seem to know what your wife looks like."

"Beautiful beyond compare, I know," Hook said proudly.

"Well, yes, but I meant that you must be colorblind. Poor fellow. For one thing, her eyes are an enchanting shade of brown, not green. And she didn't act like she was abducted by Rumpelstiltskin at all. Unless she's under some sort of spell. In fact, those two are fond of each other's company, even if they do not acknowledge it themselves. Oh, if only I could follow them and track how long it takes for them to admit the truth."

Hook suppressed a gag. What in all the realms could Rumpelstiltskin have that he did not? Why were so many women attracted to that beast? Was it the scaly skin? The reptilian eyes? The stalking? Why, he, Killian Jones, was the most handsome pirate on the seas! He should be sweeping girls like Emma off their feet!

"Listen, uh..."

"Victor Frankenstein," the scientist supplied, taking a small bow.

"Frankie. Help me out of here and I shall make it worth your while." The scientist-Frankie-cocked an eyebrow.

"How? Gold? Your so-called Crocodile already tried that. Also, does it bother you that despite all your searing hatred that you and the imp taunt me with the same shortened name?"

"Vickie it is, then," Hook answered, much to the scientist's disliking. "And it depends. What is it you do?" Frankenstein straightened up and puffed out his chest. Hook knew that look. It was the look of a man ready to brag.

"You've never heard of me? Well, few have, I suppose. Fear not, for I shall dominate the world of science soon enough, purely by my brilliant knowledge in reanimation. You see, I strive each night in this cemetery to find the perfect specimens for my experiments. They are dead now, but what if they could be brought back to life? And what if I, Victor Frankenstein, could control them?"

Hook burst into laughter at the idea of it. Bringing dead people to life was unlikely in itself, but an army of the dead? That was a good one! Didn't Frankie know that wizards, witches, and demons everywhere had craved for that secret, to no avail?

"It's not funny and it's not a useless endeavor! You'll see! I shall create the perfect bride! I shall bring her to life by my own hand! She'll worship me!" That only made Hook laugh harder, until his sides hurt. He'd heard plenty of fantasies involving women, but never one that required dead ones. Hook would bet this man was a virgin, too. "You'll see! All I need is the right heart!"

Hook stopped laughing. All at once, he knew how to get out of this mess.

"My apologies for laughing. However, I believe I have a solution to your corpse bride problem. Let's make a deal. You help me out of this hole and I shall provide you an entire collection of hearts, ripe for the picking." Frankenstein looked skeptical.

"Let me guess: from Regina? I regret to inform you that Regina is no longer among the living. I heard it from my assistant Igor, who heard it from a vampiress, who heard it from a werewolf, who heard it from one of his cousins in the Enchanted Forest. You can't fool me!"

"Who said anything about fooling you? You're a scientist, after all. Regina is old news. Her collection of hearts was pitiful compared to the one I can guarantee. A collection of hearts from none other than the Queen of Hearts herself. We're talking hundreds upon hundreds. I'll personally deliver them to your lab."

Frankenstein extended his hand.

"Deal."

Hook gladly took hold of the scientist's arm and climbed up. Once he was on solid ground, he "accidentally" pushed Frankenstein into the grave and took off running. That should buy him some time before he had to pay his debt. It wasn't his only debt, after all. He only hoped Cora would not be infuriated if her hearts went missing.

Up ahead, he spotted a cloud of golden curls slipping through the portal and he pumped his legs in pursuit.

"Hey!" Frankenstein called from the grave. It took him less than a minute to scale the dirt wall and pull himself out of the grave, but the pirate was already gone. "I should have seen that coming."

...

Of course, I have the readers to thank for their never-ending support:

Twihardkristen-once: Again, sorry for the cruel cliffhanger and for the slow update. It's taking me some time to work around my busy schedule, but I'm always writing. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter nonetheless.

GiggleboxGirlie: Thanks so much for reading! I hope this really wasn't too long of an update. I'm glad to hear your enthusiasm for this story. It definitely motivates me to write faster!

DoctorLia: You know, I'm not usually a Hook fan, but I do have to admit that I ship him with his old love, The Floor. Never gets old to me. I'm actually pretty sure I saw a gif dedicated to all the moments he hit the floor on the show. Lancelot is indeed very stubborn, but he's also trying to do what he thinks is best for Emma. Meanwhile, Rumpel and Emma are growing closer...I promise not to make you wait long until the next chapter!

CrypticCobra: Thank you for reading, dearie. I am having so much fun writing about Emmaa/Rumpel's crazy adventures.

EbonyWing: I never really took a liking to Whale in Storybrooke and Frankenstein's accent in the EF always struck me as odd. I have to say that his centric in Season 2 was not my favorite. I tried to characterize him in my own way as well, with a little mixture of Whale in there. I hope that I didn't keep you in suspense for too long!

orthankg1: As always, thank you for your support and I'm glad to hear that the story is getting better for you. There are plenty of fun times up ahead, too, since I have most of the next chapter already written up. I should also have some of my one-shots updated pretty soon, too.

ElementalFoxGoddess: Thanks for reading! I hope the chapter was worth the wait!