Chapter Text
Graham narrowed his eyes as he watched the trio through the rising steam of his coffee, his exit from Granny's putting him in the unintended position of catching the woman he'd held in jail leave the boarded up library with her companions. One of the men was unfamiliar, dressed in leather garb similar to her own, but the other was unmistakable. Regina would be very interested to know that their mysterious stranger was consorting with the Dark One.
The coffee burned as it slid down his throat and he grimaced, feeling the familiar tug at his body that reminded him it was not his own. While he still didn't know how it had happened, whether it was the presence of new people from the Enchanted Forest, or just her, but the curse had somehow been broken – all of his memories rushing back to him alongside the hopelessness of his situation. The fact that they'd been transported across realms into a land without magic seemed to have made no difference to his servitude, his heart still missing and his body still pulled at the beck and call of the Queen.
So while he desperately wanted to intercept the woman – Swan, she'd called herself – to find out how she'd truly come to be here, how the curse had been lifted, his wants were not his own, and there was no strength in him to move toward her. Instead, he watched as they moved as swiftly as Gold's limp would allow, rounding the corner toward the pawn shop, but then passing it in favor of the trail leading toward the forest. The urge to report what he'd seen to Regina doubled, crawling beneath his skin until he finally turned away, heading toward the cruiser and driving back to the house he'd only just escaped from.
It wasn't quite fear, but it crept up from an icy pool in her gut just the same, wrapping its cold fingers around her heart and squeezing as they tread the forest path. Far above them skeletal branches rattled as squirrels leapt from tree to tree, cascades of acorns and brittle leaves falling to the the ground around them. Birdsong fluted in the distance, the rapid flutter of wings beating against her eardrum like an assault before vanishing. She hated the forest, the endless march of trees, the hills that rose and fell but never broke and opened upon the horizon. It reminded her of Columbine, of betrayal, of the years she'd lived never knowing what true love and a true family was – before she knew what it was to be free and unhindered, plotting her own course.
Despite Hook walking steadily ahead of her on the narrow trail, casting his eyes back every now and then to make certain she was doing well – the both of them weary after their battle with the dragon – being so far from the water left her feeling untethered and adrift, unable to truly focus on what was to come, but if the Dark One was to be believed – and they had little choice in this matter – they would soon be on their way home.
Then it would only be a matter of finding the Jolly Roger and her crew, wherever they'd been returned to, and settling their deal with Gold.
The forest trail had been rising steeply for some time, the loamy soil interrupted by reaching tree roots and stones, creating a natural staircase that led upward toward a low ridge overlooking the town, the trees thick and clustered around a small clearing, their branches casting a dappled shade over everything.
Gold led the way, somehow managing the uneven terrain despite his cane.
“What's special about this place we're going?” Emma enquired, glancing back toward the town that was barely visible through the treetops in the distance. “It would have been much faster to do this without the trek into the forest.”
“The waters that run below,” Gold said, slowing his pace as the ground leveled out and he broke into the clearing, his hand drawing their attention to its center, “are said to have the power to return that which is lost.”
“There seem to be a number of unexpected things beneath this town,” Hook muttered, ambling into the small clearing and taking stock of their surroundings.
The center was dominated by a well, its grey stone speckled by small growths of lichen. Braids of moss gathered on its edge and draped gracefully along its sides, a crooked, wooden canopy swooping down from atop two sturdy supports. It seemed no more unique a place other than the fact that it resided in the middle of the forest, far from any discernible need for water, but when Emma peered into the dark center, nary a glimpse of water to be seen in its shadowed depths, she could feel the rush of something larger deep beneath – something that swelled and burgeoned with energy, waiting.
“It's time,” Gold said, eyeing the well eagerly as he held out his hand toward Hook. “The potion?”
“I have it,” Emma announced, stepping around the edge of the well, surreptitiously moving it between herself and Gold as she reached into her greatcoat and extracted the vial swathed in cloth, its contents shimmering as she unwrapped it. Carefully, she tugged the cork from the delicate neck and dropped it to the ground, holding it upright between her fingers. “Do I just pour it in? Drop the vial?”
“Something like that,” Gold ground out, clearly irritated that he wasn't in control of the situation, “but you should give it here, dearie. We don't want our one chance at returning magic ruined because the wrong person dropped it in.”
“I'd rather do it myself, just to make sure it gets where it needs to be,” she countered, her fingers curling securely around the vial as she dangled it over the well, “unless you have some compelling reason that it needs to be you?”
“Because I have magic, Miss Swan, and should that be a necessary factor, I don't want our one opportunity wasted.”
“You'll be glad to hear there are no issues with me doing the honors then,” she shrugged, the vial still firmly in her grasp as she kept her eyes on Gold. “You're not the only one who wants magic returned to this place, Dark One.”
“Well, isn't that interesting, though not entirely surprising considering your heritage,” Gold muttered, gesturing toward the well. “Get on with it then.”
Emma's concern that the Crocodile had been intending to double-cross them in some manner lessened, and she glanced down into the shadows once more before she prepared to give up the vial to its depths – but a sound from nearby stilled her, her grasp around the potion tightening instinctively as she glanced over her shoulder towards the woods, both Hook and Gold shifting to see who was coming toward them, the brush and leaves crackling beneath their feet.
From between the trees stepped Mary Margaret and David, both sharing an anxious look as they took a few careful steps into the clearing, hands raised in supplication as Hook growled and moved closer to Emma, his hand on the hilt of his blade.
“Emma,” her mother spoke, her voice calm as she ignored the pirate between them, only casting a brief glance to Gold, his face twisted into something feral at their interruption. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourselves with,” Gold sniped, his fingers twisting tightly around the head of his cane.
“If Emma has anything to do with you, then it's a concern to us,” David cut in, glaring at the Dark One. “What have you gotten her involved in?”
“You followed me,” Emma scoffed, nearly laughing at the tenacity of the two people staring at her. “I thought I heard something when we first entered the woods. You should leave. You're not wanted here. I was quite clear about that.”
“So it seems you've already met your charming parents,” Gold muttered, turning back to Emma. “Wonderful, who doesn't love a family reunion, but we have business to attend to, Miss Swan.”
“Aye, love. I'll keep an eye on these two, but let's hurry this along, shall we? We've only one of those potions, and the longer it takes to get where it's needed...” His words drifted off, Emma understanding his concern that the longer they waited to return magic, the more likely it was something could stop them.
Their only means to return magic, and by doing so return home, was a very delicate one, uncorked and shielded only by a thin layer of blown glass. If her parents were to rush them – she turned back to the well.
“Just drop it in?”
“Yes,” Gold hissed. “Do it.”
“Emma, whatever he wants, it's never – ” David started, his words catching in his throat as Emma extended her arm over the center of the well, far from the rugged stone walls, and let go of the vial, watching as it slipped and disappeared into the shadows.
“It's done?” Hook asked, his eyes never leaving her parents.
“Yes,” Emma whispered, watching the well, waiting for some sign that things had gone according to plan.
“What did you do?” Mary Margaret asked, her hand twisting in David's as they stared at Gold, his impatience visible as he waited for the resolution of their offering.
“Why, we've returned magic, Your Highness.”
“Magic, you couldn't have – it's not possible. Magic doesn't exist here.”
“Oh, anything is possible if you have just enough True Love, dearie – thanks for that, by the way,” Gold jeered, tipping his head in thanks toward Mary Margaret and David. “It's not an easy thing to come by.”
Emma's thoughts were still stumbling over how Gold had addressed her mother when she felt it, something stirring deep below them, boiling and rising as it billowed toward the surface, alive – magic.
“David, look!”
Everyone who hadn't been looking at the well turned to watch as purple smoke began to froth and billow over the edge, cascading to the forest floor.
“I have a feeling the Queen isn't going to be so easily manageable anymore. We've got to get back and warn everyone,” David sighed, his lips settling into a grim line as he grabbed his wife's hand and reluctantly pulled her away, leading them swiftly back down the ridge toward town, Snow hurrying beside him.
Emma's skin tingled in anticipation as she felt the first curls of smoke brush across her feet, her fingers woven between Hook's as the fog poured up from the darkness below, tendrils dropping to the ground before swirling and sliding across the damp leaves like a living thing. It carpeted everything around them, its edges rolling over one another like the tide, climbing whatever it touched. She watched as it reached the bottom of the Dark One's cane and slowly moved upward, winding around the length of wood. It slithered its way up her legs, a familiar warmth suffusing her body as it twisted around where her hand was joined with Hook's, seeping into their skin – and as if it were the sea pouring through a ring, the heavy wall that had been inside of her shattered into nothingness, her own magic roaring to life once more, an endless pool swirling and humming within her body.
Through the fog around them, Hook could see the light glowing in Emma's palms, could feel the soothing heat of her magic enveloping his skin, rollicking in being free once more. A violent wind rose around them, leaves swirling and disappearing amid the smoke as they tumbled skyward, borne aloft by the strange breeze that was most certainly Emma's other magic bursting to the surface in relief. The sky and it branches finally disappeared above them, the purple smoke still churning from the well, expanding its reach as far toward the borders of the town as the curse would allow.
Whether it was hours or minutes, Emma couldn't be certain, but she was surrounded by fog and the press of magic, the steady glow of Hook's hand in her own, warm and thrumming in time with her heart – but eventually the smoke dissipated, reaching the edge of the town and fading into the air as if it had never been. The comforting presence of her own magic remained, however, and as she met the Dark One's eyes once more, she knew that for him it was the same as well – something black and reaching, like eyes within eyes, looking back at her.
“Care to explain your little show, dearie?” Gold challenged, the black beast behind his eyes appraising her once more, her skin crawling beneath its gaze.
“My palms? I told you I had magic, Gold, why are you so surprised you could see it?”
“And you're telling me that sudden vortex sweeping around us wasn't your doing?”
“I figured that was you, or just the magic itself returning,” Emma shrugged, taking a step forward to glance down into the bowels of the well that were shadowed and quiet once more.
“Is that so?”
“I need to know,” Emma pressed, ignoring his continued questioning, her frown deepening as she thought of what her parents had said before leaving. “Is the Queen going to be a problem for finishing this, now that magic is back? I'd hate to be surprised.”
“She was always more of a reader,” Gold dismissed, the speculative gleam still in his eye as he watched Emma, “not like you. You seem to be quite the natural. Somehow, I doubt she'll be able to manage the intricacies of how magic works in this land, not without a guide and a few handy spells. And even if she were a threat, I'd hardly let her stand between me and finding what's mine.”
Emma nodded, trusting that should the Queen try to delay or stop them, between herself and the Dark One, it would be no true concern at all. Besides, it wasn't as if they were putting it off, all of them eager to return back to the Enchanted Forest.
“And what of the price you mentioned, Crocodile? What is the price for destroying the most powerful dark curse ever cast?” Hook prodded.
Gold reached into his jacket and pulled out the scroll they'd stolen from Regina's vault the day before, peering at the text once more, a veil of melancholy falling across his features for the briefest of moments.
“The price for destroying the curse is losing the thing you love most.”
“But finding your son is the entire reason why you're returning,” Hook scoffed, eyes narrowing as he watched the Dark One in disbelief, “and you expect me to believe you're sacrificing him, your chance to find him again?”
“It seems you've forgotten, pirate. I'm the Dark One – I love nothing, and anything I once loved has passed from this world and the rest of them.”
“Even your son?”
“He belongs to me,” Gold snapped, “and I will have him, but make no mistake, his father is long dead.”
Emma's fingers tightened around Hook's as his jaw ticked, his brows darting forward. She hoped the warmth of her skin and magic would soothe him, would soften the waves of darkness rippling from the Crocodile in their direction, though she wasn't even sure he could feel them. Still, it was a slick, choking magic that she didn't want anywhere near him.
“We have a deal, Dark One,” Emma ground out. “I haven't forgotten, and neither has Hook – you'll have your boy.”
“Then let's not waste anymore of our time,” Gold muttered, turning his attention back to the scroll.
Holding it firmly between his hands, he gripped each end of the parchment and tore, the yellowed paper ripping easily in two. Magic poured from the shorn ends of the spell, flowing into the Crocodile's hands and glowing beneath his skin, the eerie radiance growing bright and brighter. Slowly, the flow ceased and the scroll turned to ash, slipping through his fingers and falling to the leaves below. His hands shaking slightly, he reached up and aimed them at the sky above, the power jolting out of him like lightning as it burst above them, forming into a second cloud that grew and spread, darker than the first and crackling with the blood red magic of the the Dark One. Faster than the first cloud, it billowed and spread across the sky like a dome, covering the entire forest and town in a matter of seconds.
“What did you do?”
The furious screech distracted them all from the maelstrom forming above, Emma's gaze jumping to the forest trail they'd ascended what seemed like a lifetime ago. Regina stormed into the clearing, the sheriff at her heels. She tugged at the bottom of her blazer angrily before stomping toward Gold and jerking him around to face her.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you, dearie,” he snapped, rolling his shoulders and brushing the front of his suit where her nails had dug into him. “You're not the one in control here anymore.”
“What the hell did you do, Rumple? What was that?”
“I was simply doing us both the favor of returning magic.”
“And this?” she hissed, pointing upward to the scarlet streaked gray cloud above them, its edges dropping to frame the edges of the town. “Is this what I think it is?”
Emma sidled closer to Hook, the air around all of them shivering with the promise of something to come – and she wanted to be as close to him as possible, terrified of being ripped apart once again.
“You played me, Rumple. All that time spent grooming me to cast your curse, and for what? So you could destroy it the first chance you got? Why?”
“Well, turns out, I have other places to be, dearie – and my business, is my own.”
Far above them the magic started to rain down like dried blood, the air thick with the dust of it as it fell across all of Storybrooke, the very center of it collapsing above them like ice shattering.
“Looks like it's back to being the Evil Queen of the story,” Gold taunted, dropping his cane and reaching his arms upward toward the destruction falling upon them.
“Emma!”
Both Hook and Emma turned as the air rippled with scarlet around them, the heavy weight of the clouds only moments from folding over them in a wash of dust and blindness, but in that small moment of clarity, they could see her parents struggling up the hillside, behind them the shadowed forms of several more following – all of them rushing to get to her.
She turned swiftly into Hook, clinging to him as his arms wrapped securely around her, his lips pressing against her crown of curls as he held her closely, their hearts beating together.
“Home, love,” he whispered, the words a promise against her. “Let's go home.”
And then the cloud engulfed them all – an explosion of movement that rattled her bones, the world rushing past her as she hung immobile in nothingness, the only thing she could still feel the warm embrace of Hook's body pressed to her own, never letting go.
The massive doors swung heavily on their hinges as if by some force unseen, the sturdy iron creaking and dust billowing from the carved wood like a decrepit mist as the Dark One crossed the threshold into his castle for the first time in many years.
“Well, this won't do,” he muttered, flourishing his wrist in the entryway and grinning as the carpet of dust vanished from the stone and the chandeliers hanging far above burst into flame, casting the darkness of the hall into soft shadows that danced, the Dark One's boots echoing as he surveyed his domain.
Anticipating his path, the door to his right opened softly on its hinges, revealing the mahogany and painted ceilings of yet another familiar room, bold columns and rails of gold-leaf woodwork framing the massive windows that were draped with heavy swathes of cloth, blocking all light but the meager glow falling from the candles above.
The Dark One circled the room, reveling in each step that he took, feeling the power that rippled from him and touched everything within his domain. His eyes passed balefully over the red-velvet draped mirror in the corner as he walked, his scaled fingers lingering along the smooth, worn edges of his spinning wheel. Each pedestal was inspected, each trinket placed exactly as it should be. He stopped at the massive oaken table in the center of the room, loathe to remember the girl in pale blue skirts perched upon the edge of it, her neck turned fetchingly as she smiled at him, the delicate china cup, chipped, cradled in his hands as he leaned his weight against its edge and so near to her heat that he could almost feel something – but those moments were no more, the man that had been left to feel them, no more.
The chipped cup was as it should be, resting upon a pedestal at the end of the hall, one more trinket, one more remembrance of a person long gone, her deals and promises along with her.
He cast his eyes once more around the hall, the cabinets and shelves, feeling each object with his mind until he was certain everything was in it's place.
His collection was as he left it.
The emptiness of the castle echoed around him as he moved, breathing alongside him and reminding him that not all was yet complete.
This was where Baelfire belonged, this was his place.
And soon he would be returned, and everything would be as it should.
The red roofs of yet another port slipped from her view, the cascade of white-washed stone and colorful shutters slowly falling away into a lonely panorama of rocky shoreline that embraced the occasional stable or farm, the roadways fading from cobblestones to dirt as the Jolly Roger sailed out of the bay and into deeper waters, Hook's arms steady on the helm as he guided her. They'd passed several smaller ports on their voyage back to the southern shores they preferred, and though it didn't matter from where they set sail to begin their journey, Hook had wanted to restock in one of the larger cities where he could fill the ship's hold with items they wouldn't otherwise find.
Emma leaned over the rail and watched as the waves crashed and swirled in their wake, the warm blue shattering into foaming caps of white that settled back into the calm of the sea once they'd passed. The sun was hot against her back, despite being clad only in her linen shirt and waistcoat, but the wind filling their sails was a welcome relief, its cool hands brushing across her skin and soothing the heat. Loosely braided and tied, wisps of her hair pulled free and fluttered in the breeze, obscuring her view of the town that was fading away and teasing her heavy lids into closing – her mind slipping back to a few days earlier.
“Wait just a minute, dearie,” called the Dark One's voice as Emma and Hook quickly distanced themselves from the rest of the group that had been pulled back to the Enchanted Forest alongside them. “Now this, I'd like to see...”
The wind tugged at Emma as she turned, brow furrowed, wondering what could have possibly captured the attention of the Dark One, distracting him from the journey to find his son. A pace behind her, Hook shifted to observe as well, his hand falling reassuringly to Emma's shoulder once he realized just what had made the Crocodile pause.
The Queen had recovered from their abrupt departure from Storybrooke faster than Mary Margaret and David, and she stood with a wicked smile on her face, her hand raised and fingers stretched open, palm facing the man and woman before her.
Emma expected to see a glow, or a flash of magic – perhaps a fireball, as the Queen was once known for – but instead, beyond the couple still scrambling to their feet, a small group of men who'd been brought through, Dwarves, had been frozen mid-stride, their axes still poised in the air as they raced to the aid of her parents. A glaze of shimmering, red light kept them locked in place, and though she desperately wanted to be free of the complications discovering her parents had entailed, Emma found she couldn't look away from the scene unfolding in front of her.
The Dark One had taken a step forward, his scaled fingers interlaced and peaked in front of his chest as he watched the Queen, now clad in a dramatic black sheath and crown, holding the Dwarves at bay with her magic – Emma's parents frozen in fear.
“I should have known,” the Queen spat, the little Emma could see of her face twisting from a smile to a disgusted snarl. “Simple is always better.”
David stepped in front of his wife, drawing a sword with practiced ease from his scabbard and aiming it ominously at the Queen. Both of them were dressed in a finery Emma had rarely seen the likes of, heavy silks and laces edged with fine embroidery and brocade. It seemed that in this realm, her parents were, as the Dark One had implied, royalty – and once again anger settled deep in her chest that two people with so much had tried so little to keep her safe.
“You've taken enough away from us,” David seethed, his face turning momentarily in her direction before focusing once more on the Queen. “I won't let you harm anyone else.”
An amused laugh broke from the Queen's red lips, her head tossed back as she twisted her hand and made a motion as if she were pulling something from the ground.
“Such a hero, do you really think you can stop me?”
Emma's eyes widened and Hook shifted slightly to stand in front of her as the ground around David and Mary Margaret erupted, thick vines pushing rubble and stone aside as they twisted and coiled around both of them, securing their arms and legs, the sword her father had held falling uselessly to the ground.
“I haven't even begun to take what I'm owed,” the Queen snarled, striding forward to where her prey was fighting against the vicious tendrils holding them, “but that changes today.”
Emma was aware of Hook's eyes on her as she stared at her parents, trying to summon some idea of how she should feel, or if she should do something, but the only thought pressing relentlessly against her was that they were wasting time. Every moment they spent here was a moment longer they needed to be in the Dark One's company, a moment longer that their child was in danger, all because of these people she didn't even know – but the Dark One remained enthralled by the proceedings, and without his guidance, they would waste even more time trying to find the Jolly Roger and begin their journey.
They could not simply leave without him.
Just then the Queen thrust her arm forward, burying her hand in Mary Margaret's chest, the smaller woman jerking against the vines that held her as the Queen twisted and pulled, a veil of sheer joy falling across her features as she held between them something glistening and red, its glowing weight pulsing in her grasp.
It was a heart.
Emma stepped forward into Hook, her throat tightening and worry stirring in her gut as she realized what this would be forcing him to relive, and indeed, his jaw was clenched, his eyes boring into the back of the Dark One as if he wanted to tear the monster limb from limb with his bare hand and hook – and Emma knew he did – but then he shook his own darkness away and pulled her closely against his chest, asking her questions with his eyes that she didn't know the answer to.
“I think I'll just settle for killing Snow White and her beloved Prince Charming – eternal misery be damned.”
Leaning close enough to Snow that their faces nearly touched, the Queen gripped the beating heart firmly and squeezed, grinning wildly as Snow whimpered and fell slack in the grip of the vines, her features pinched in agony.
“No!” David screamed, fighting uselessly against the magic holding him as he watched his wife surrender to the crushing force around her heart.
“Emma,” Snow bit out through clenched teeth, turning what little she could toward them. “Save...Emma...”
The words gave the Queen pause, her deepening grip on the heart breaking as life rushed back into Snow's face.
Slowly, the Queen turned toward where Emma and Hook stood, the Dark One nearby with a look of unbridled glee on his face, clearly pleased to see how far his student had come – how completely her heart had blackened – but it was Emma's impassive face and clear impatience that stirred something within Regina, and smirking, Snow's heart still beating in her palm, she turned back to her.
“On second thought,” she murmured, her smile widening as she studied both Snow and Charming, “perhaps killing you is far too kind of an ending. Instead, I'm going to let you live, and I'm going to watch you, Snow White,” she spat the name like a curse. “Every morning when you wake with this beautiful, unblemished red heart beating in your chest, I want you to know that because of what you did, your child grew into what you've tried so desperately not to be – a villain, just like me.”
Snow seized in pain as the Queen stepped forward and shoved the beating heart roughly back into Snow's chest.
The echo of Hook's steps against the deck pulled her from the reverie she'd been reliving for days, and she smiled over her shoulder as he approached, leaning against the rail beside her, the wind tousling his hair that had grown long, black locks sweeping over the bright blue of his eyes. She traced her fingers along the hard line of his jaw, his stubble thicker and grown into more of a beard than he normally kept, though there hadn't been much time for things such as grooming once she'd been pulled into the portal – and he'd been too concerned the past few days to worry over it.
“Do you want to talk about it, love?” he murmured, the voices and noise of the crew rising rhythmically behind them as the Jolly Roger sailed. He turned into her hand that was still lingering against his skin, placing a gentle kiss to her fingers, his brow set with the same concern she'd grown used to seeing the shadow of since they'd returned.
He'd asked several times since then – the Dark One had proven quite useful by transporting them quickly to the nearest port where the Jolly Roger and her crew had been waiting, bewildered, but pleased by the turn of events – but each time she'd just shaken her head, not yet ready to examine what she'd learned in the clearing that day. Today felt different. Free on the open water, the ship rolling beneath them as they sailed, it felt far easier to admit what she hadn't been ready to say before.
“I felt nothing for them, Killian,” she whispered, the wind stealing the words from between them as if they held no weight at all. “I watched the Queen tear the heart from my own mother, and I felt nothing.”
“Were you hoping you would?”
“No,” she sighed, shifting and resting her head against his shoulder. “It was a relief. I wanted nothing to do with them – was so angry about how I suffered for my entire life, all to benefit other people, but there was a small part of me that felt guilty for feeling that way, for being unable to forgive them. I kept waiting for the feelings to come, but they never did – there was just, emptiness, nothing.”
“Forgiveness is never an obligation, Emma, it's a choice. I'll never forgive the Crocodile for what he did to Milah, but I've moved on. I've found other things to live for – you, and this little one who's already given me hope that we can find our own way forward...apart from the pains we've both endured.”
“A new beginning,” Emma hummed, the sound of the words filling her with hope and warmth.
“Aye, love, a new beginning.”
“I'd like that more than anything else,” she smiled, and then the realization that they couldn't do so, not quite yet, settled back down on her shoulders, “but first we have some business to conclude, don't we?”
“That we do, love, are you ready to go back?”
“We're fully stocked, and there's no sense in putting it off any longer. Even if we wanted to, I doubt he'd tolerate the delay. Summon him.”
Hook stole one last kiss from his Swan before he eased himself from the rail and turned toward the crew, his voice cutting across the deck as he gave his orders.
“Prepare for Neverland, men!”
As the men scrambled, he raised his hand in the air, the sun catching the swirling darkness in his ruby ring as he raised it high and let loose the shadow trapped within, the wisp of darkness hurtling forward and diving into the water like a beast starved. From where it split the sea, the waters roared into a familiar maelstrom, the sea bed echoing from below as the massive vortex spun and tilted in front of them, its outermost tendrils teasing the prow of the ship closer.
“It's now or never, Crocodile!” Hook screamed into the air, the wind created by the portal whipping around him as he waited, eyes darting around the ship for any signs of the monster appearing. “Dark One, you want your lad, well come on then!”
“No need to raise your voice. I'm right here,” the Dark One grinned from where he leaned against the rail on the port side of the ship, a place that had been empty only seconds earlier. “It's a good thing you called. I was beginning to get impatient.”
“It takes time to stock a vessel of this size,” Emma snapped, rising to her feet and moving to stand beside Hook.
“So where is this lovely portal taking us?”
“Neverland,” Hook drawled as the ship lurched closer to the edge of the vortex, his interest piqued as the Crocodile's eyes narrowed. “That's where Baelfire awaits, though once we lead you to him, the rest is up to you. There's an entity on the island that may be...somewhat reluctant...to allow him to leave – that burden lies on you, Crocodile.”
“Oh, I don't think that's anything I can't handle,” the Dark One hissed, his back to them as he turned and watched the portal loom before them, the prow of the Jolly Roger slipping into her maw. “What better time for a family reunion.”