Hello, beautiful people!

I'm sorry if anyone thought this was an update. Well, I suppose it kind of is, but in essence, it isn't.

It's a rewrite.

See, I recently started to get back into reading and writing and all the beautiful things I've put aside since starting college. Upon doing that I remembered this story exists and decided to revisit it.

And boy, let me tell you... you can really tell I wrote this six years ago. My cringy writing will definitely keep me up at night.

But fear not, for I have decided to give this ride a pimp.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for reading this little drabble I wrote. It is the first story I actually finished; my love for OUAT was so strong that this story is the only one I haven't given up on, which goes nicely with the principal themes of the show itself.

The rewrite might even include some new scenes, so if you still like to come back to OUAT every once in a while like I do, despite the fact that the show is over, I implore you to give the chapters a read and share your thoughts and feelings with me.

I hope you are all well in these strange times. Let's escape from the real world to the Enchanted forest and rolling high seas together.

P.S. I still don't own OUAT. What a disappointing turn of events.

Emma hated sleeping on the Jolly Roger.

Mary Margaret could compare the gentle lull of the ship with a rocking chair all she wanted, but Emma still hated it. Nausea had become her constant companion, and it only got worse each night when she tried to fall asleep. Precious were hours when she managed to lose herself to dreams, not only because she could see Henry and pretend he was safe, but her nausea disappeared as well. Sleep had become a luxury; having to wake up each morning was easily her most difficult task as the Savior.

On that particular night, however, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore the shouts coming from the deck.

Emma sprung out of her hammock, which was old and torn and barely still hanging between two wooden columns in the belly of the ship. She had gotten to know her sleeping quarters quite well, she knew which floorboards creaked more than others, and how to get to the door without the person on the other side of it knowing you were coming. As she reached for the doorknob, she gripped her sword tightly.

A woman's scream spurred Emma into action, and a moment later she found herself on the deck, where all hell had broken loose while she was sleeping.

The mast - beautiful, massive, and commanding - was on fire. The fire spread quickly, turning the Jolly Roger into a floating inferno with no exit. Emma scanned the deck, searching for any sign of her parents. Hook and Neal were caught in a fight with Felix and two of his friends and seemed to be managing themselves pretty well despite being outnumbered.

Regina did what she does best; at one point, a rouge fireball nearly incinerated Emma, who managed to escape it by a hair's length.

David's voice came from behind Emma. She turned on her heel, only to find her father standing by the helm, one hand keeping the ship on course and the other wielding his sword, trying to defend himself from the Lost Boys' arrows. He was yelling, but Emma couldn't make out the words over all the noise. His face was contorted with rage, eyebrows furrowed with worry, and Emma followed his line of sight, trying to locate the source of his anguish.

Mary Margaret was doubled over in pain, an arrow sticking out of her shoulder. Emma's heart jumped to her throat at the sight of her mother's pained expression, her legs suddenly moving on their own accord towards her.

No one seemed to notice her, no one but Mary Margaret, whose eyes widened in horror.

"Emma, run!"

Time seemed to stop as the name left Mary Margaret's mouth, all eyes were suddenly on Emma. Seconds ticked by, which to her seemed like hours, when Pan appeared in front of her, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. Emma hadn't noticed him before, and a small part of her wondered where he came from. It seemed she wouldn't get a chance to find out.

"I've been waiting for you, Emma," Pan said with an ease that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. "You were missing the party."

"Emma!" Hook yelled. "Get away from him!" He didn't get a chance to say more, all other thoughts interrupted by Felix, who punched him square in the jaw.

Pan shook his head, smile slipping. "Our dear captain never learned when to stay quiet."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, anger rising in her chest in time with her sword. Pan smirked at the sight of her, rumpled and tired and barely thinking straight, before snapping his fingers.

For a moment, nothing changed.

Then, suddenly, a familiar feeling washed over her, swallowing her up and spitting her back out, leaving a buzzing sound in its wake; a sound so loud Emma could barely hear her own thoughts. It reminded her of falling through a magical portal for the first time and finding herself in the Enchanted forest.

Pan held a small dagger smeared in blood.

There was a cut on her forearm. When did she get that?

"I hate to say it, but the captain was right. You should have run away when you had the chance. You know, I really like Henry. He has... a spark in him. Reminds me of you, actually. It's why I'm a bit sad it had to come to this."

Pan took a menacing step forward, and the back of Emma's thighs pressed against the railing.

"Let's play a game, Emma. The rules are quite simple, so you should be able to keep up. I will send you to your starting point in the game in a moment, and you have to figure your way back if you wish to see your family again. See? Simple. Now, let the game begin. Don't worry, this will only hurt a lot."

An invisible force was pulling her, growing stronger, much like the buzzing in her ears. The center of gravity had shifted to somewhere behind her, and it was pulling with the kind of strength Emma couldn't resist. She found herself going overboard, her sword clattering to the ground, the only piece of her which stayed on the ship. The last thing she saw were Mary Margaret's eyes, wide and scared. The last thing she heard was David's voice yelling her name, breaking upon reaching the last letter.

If the water was cold, she wasn't going to find out. She disappeared before she reached the surface.

Emma was staring at the sky.

The wonderful, deep blue, sunlit sky.

A single thought crossed her mind: maybe she had died.

Every part of her being rebelled at the thought. Her parents were unwilling to ever give up on anything, and it seemed they passed the trait down to Emma. Even though her body ached and her mind felt like mush, she was determined to get up, figure out where in the hell she was, and get back to her family. And if she had to slap an annoying teenager a few times to do it, then so be it.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a man's face suddenly appearing above her.

"Where did you come from?" he asked with little kindness, before pulling her to her feet roughly. Now that she was upright, Emma could finally survey her surroundings.

She was on a ship. More than that, she was on the ship. The ship that had become her home for the last few days. The ship where she slept and trained, laughed with David and Mary Margaret, exchanged charged glances with Hook. Where she bickered with Regina and used every nook and cranny she knew to avoid an emotional confrontation with Neal.

They were in some kind of a port, Emma assumed; men were carrying supplies up and down the plank that connected the Jolly Roger to the pier.

The man shook her roughly, repeating the question.

"I... Uh..." she stuttered, searching for a way to explain everything that had happened.

"You won't answer me? Fine, then you'll answer to our captain!"

The word echoed in Emma's head. Captain.

She felt too weak to fight against the man's too-tight grip. And even if she did manage to escape, she had no idea where she was. Her gut told her they weren't in Neverland anymore, which was a thought as scary as it was comforting. She allowed the man to drag her to the captain's cabin. At least this way, there was a chance of seeing a familiar face, someone who could give her some answers.

Even with his back turned to her, she could still recognize the lines of his back.

Hook.

"What do you want?" he asked, voice cold and uncaring. Emma frowned, unable to connect the man she knew with the voice. It only made her wonder more about what place - what time - did she wind up in.

"Sir, this... lass, we found her lying on your deck. None of the men have seen her before. We think she's a stowaway."

Captain Killian Jones slowly turned around in his seat. When his eyes met Emma's, she had a sudden urge to take a step back; instead, she jutted out her chin and brought herself up to her full height, trying to send the message that they weren't doing a good enough job to frighten her.

This was Hook, she told herself. She knew him. He wouldn't hurt her.

... Right?

Hook ordered his lackey to leave, and soon enough it was just the two of them. They stared each other down in silence; he was watching her like a hunter would his prey. Emma, however, was waiting for his eyes to soften with recognition, for him to hurry over to her and ask her what the hell she was doing.

She was waiting for him to call her 'Swan'.

Instead of a warm welcome, she got the cold feeling of his metal hook pressed against her throat. He moved closer until he was invading her personal space.

Danger radiated off him as he leaned in to ask, "Who are you?"

David watched, shocked, as Emma lost her balance and disappeared behind the ship's railing. Without a second thought, he turned and hit one of the boys with the hilt of his sword. The boy groaned in pain and slumped to the side, giving David an opening. He tore through them much more aggressively than he maybe should have, but he didn't have time to care. He had to get to Emma.

The portal she had fallen through was closing; by the time David reached the railing, it was too late. He made a move to jump after her nonetheless, but Snow caught his hand.

"Please, David, I can't lose you too," she whispered, unshed tears shining in the moonlight. When she looked at him with those eyes, he could never bring himself to leave her. Instead, he enveloped her in a hug, pulling her closer.

Pan laughed, looking at them. "It's just a game. No need to be so serious."

Regina huffed a laugh. She was standing by the helm, holding a Lost boy by his shirt. "Can someone please slap that teenage confidence out of him and make him shut up? I'd do it, but my hands are full."

Hook raised his sword and pointed it at the boy. Though he tried to keep his voice steady, his hand shook with anger. "Bring her back."

Pan shrugged. "Sorry, everyone. My hands are tied. We can only hope Emma wins the game. If I were you, captain, I'd wish her luck. Gods know she will need it; the company's rough where she's going."

With another snap of his fingers, Pan and his crew were gone.

Neal was the first one to lower his blade. "Where do you think he sent her?"

Violent pain shot through Hook's head, leaving him gripping the railing in order to steady himself. New, strange memories flooded his mind, events he knows never happened - even as they were played under his eyelids.

Regina approached him, observing him with a dose of curiosity. Her lips stretched into a smile. "I think I have an idea."

Why was First Draft Emma so angry?! Maybe I was projecting, whoops. Also, we need more Regina in this story. Our Queen deserves it.