A/N: This is my first attempt at any sort of fanfiction - I usually leave it for all you far more talented writers! However, I was on the bus on the way home from uni and this idea just sort of formed in my head so I thought I'd write it up for the sake of it. Hopefully it's not too terrible!

She wasn't quite sure how it happened.

One second she was deflecting a poisonous arrow and the next Hook had shoved her to the ground. It was only when she snapped back up to shove him back that she realised something was wrong. Hook had sought shelter from the ongoing battle by the trunk of a tree where he crouched, hastily removing his leather jacket in attempt to free his now burning skin to the left of his stomach.

"Hook, what-?" Emma began, but trailed off, gasping at the sight of the bloodied scratch which was beginning to expand.

"Saved your bloody life, that's what," he chortled, the smirk not quite reaching his lips.

Emma, still unable to process what was happening, struggled to string words together: "But that's - isn't that - poison? What have you-" she broke off once again, hitting Hook's arm in anguished frustration.

"If that's your way of showing gratitude Swan, Lord knows what you would've done to me had I not taken the arrow." His tone was still light, but she could see the pain was starting to spread.

"Why'd you do it?" She whispered hoarsely, unable to think of anything else to say as the realisation that Hook was suffering the painful death he'd, not hours ago, prevented her Dad from stumbling upon slowly sunk in.

"Gentleman," he uttered with a shrug as though it was the obvious answer.

Before Emma could reply, Pan's voice interjected from behind her: "Oh dear Captain, what unfortunate fate have you happened upon now?" There was laughter echoing from his voice as he called off his lost boys with one quick whistle.

"Enough boys, I think we've done enough damage for now." His eyes locked with Emma's with look of smug victory before disappearing off into the shadows leaving Emma balling her fists so tight her nails were beginning to cut into her skin.

Snapping out of her haze she turned back to Hook in a panicked frenzy: "What can I do? There has to be something - something on this wretched island that can help you."

"Aye, I'm afraid there's nothing lass. The poison is fatal and it's already in my bloodstream." As if to illustrate his point he grazed his hand over the wound, flinching slightly at its touch.

But Emma was having none of it, "So what? You expect me to just sit here and watch you die," she said biting back tears. "You insolent son-of-a-"

"Easy there, love - I was under the impression you didn't care for me." His carefree tone was contradicted by the hopeful look in his eyes as they lifted to meet hers. She paused for a moment, contemplating. For the most part she hated Killian Jones. She hated that he thought he knew her, and hated him even more when he was right. She hated that he flirted at the most inappropriate of times and she hated his incessant need to push David and Mary Margaret - her parents' - buttons. But among the continuous infuriation he caused her, there we brief moments of understanding. Brief moments between them when she felt as though he understood her better than anyone else. It scared her, more often than not, but she couldn't deny it was true.

"I don't want you to die." Her voice was barely a whisper. Scared it would break - scared emotion would seep through.

Without warning Hook snapped up, clutching his side with an anguished scream. Emma looked on in horror, helpless to cure the pain in his eyes. Although something didn't quite add up. Hook seemed to be experiencing more and more pain, yet the wound, although still undoubtedly there, had stop spreading in its ugly vain-like fashion.

"Hook," she said uncertainly, "It's stopped spreading." Hook looked at her quizzically then down to himself. There was no change. As far as he could see, the cracked veins were spreading to his chest, constricting his breathing to a slow wheeze. He shook his head, focusing on breathing. Emma stared wide-eyed, forcing herself not to panic at his decreased gasps of breath. There was more to it, there had to be. They were in Neverland, a place where fights caused storms and self-knowledge revealed maps. Nothing was as it seemed. Everything was - she stopped in her thoughts, realisation hitting her all at once. Everything was run on belief. Hook believed he was dying. Hook believed the poison was killing him. And it was - slowly.

"Hook, stay - stay with me you're going to be alright - you're not going to die," she stammered, forcing herself to ignore Hook's expression of anguish.

"I appreciate the optimism love, but I think my times up this time," he managed through shortened breaths.

Growing increasingly alarmed, she tried another approach, "Just stop thinking about it - just - focus on something else." Hook gave her a look as though she was crazy, only spurring her panic on. She couldn't just make him believe. Hell, she of all people knew truly believing in the impossible couldn't simply be demanded. You can't tell someone to believe, you have to show them - make them. If only she could clear his head. She just need to take the pain away for a moment, a moment is all it would take for him to realise there's nothing really killing him. Nothing but his mind. Just one blank, painless moment to bring him back. Just one.

Without thinking, she took his face in her hand, bringing his lips to hers. She could feel his surprise against her lips before she felt him kiss back, falling deep into the kiss. Their lips brushed briefly, lost in themselves for that one moment. For one moment there was nothing but them. She pulled away, wide-eyed, praying that she had been right. Hook's face was in a daze, but colour was slowly returning to it. Relief washed over her, letting out a long sigh.

"What did you-?" Hook spluttered examining his still bleeding flesh wound.

"Saved your bloody life, that's what," Emma mocked with a smirk.

"But - how?"

"You told me Neverland was different - a place run on imagination. I figured Pan would get a laugh over you dying because you believed his arrows were fatal rather than them actually being so." He stared at her in awe and if she wasn't mistaken, could see a glint of pride in his eyes.

"And that kiss?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow and smirk.

She fought down a blush, "That was all I could think - I didn't know how -" Hook merely waved away her spluttered excuses, chuckling to himself.

Emma rolled her eyes, deciding to throw more of his words back at him: "If that's your way of showing gratitude Hook…" She trailed off as he took hold of her hand. Nothing more, just held it gently. Their eyes met, frozen in time before Hook broke away, leading them back to camp.

As he walked away she could have sworn she heard him utter "Thank you Emma."

Fin.