Once Upon a Time - We're a Long Way From There (Killian/Emma, Canon Divergence) 2/12
Title: We're a Long Way From There 2/12
Author:
batgurl88
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Killian/Emma, Regina/Robin (background), Belle/Gold (background), David/Snow White (background)
Summary: Killian pays the ultimate price for Emma's actions as the Dark One - his life. Now, she and the others must overcome the scars of Camelot to save him, while Killian searches for an escape from the Underworld.
Canon-divergent AU of S5.
A/N: Thank you to anyone who's reading so far, and thanks to love-with-you-i-have-everything for the beta!
Chapter One
Camelot, Week 6
Rumpelstiltskin giggled, wiggling his fingers in amusement as he inspected the bark of the large oak tree that had sprouted up in the midst of the castle's ruins.
"Marvelous work, dearie," he said, turning back to her with a gleeful smile that bared his sharp teeth. "I'm not sure what it is about him, but I much prefer that meddling Sorcerer as kindling." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "It's so much more peaceful around here without having to listen to all of those pesky prophecies and boring old lectures about heroism," he mocked, rolling his beady yellow eyes.
Emma ignored him, staring at the instrument in her hands. She ran her pale fingers over the bumps and grooves of the knobby wand, her unnaturally fair skin a stark contrast against the deep ebony of the wood.
The imp grinned, waltzing toward her with a theatrical air.
"Just a few more steps, and you'll be ready to take what's yours."
He paused when she remained silent, his head tilting as she continued to stare at the Dark Fairy's wand. It hadn't been hard to get her hands on - Regina had kept the dagger well-protected, but she had neglected to take similar precautions with the powerful item that had brought them all to this realm. Henry had regaled her with the daring tale of how they'd used Zelena to activate the wand and summon a twister. It seemed that with Regina unable to use the wand herself, she'd forgotten that her sister wasn't the only one who could wield it.
She swallowed, twisting the wand in her fingers, feeling its power.
"What is it, dearie?" he asked. "You are mere weeks from your daring victory - from doing what no Dark One has ever done before. You can't be having second thoughts now?"
She kept her eyes on the wand, remembering the pain and betrayal in Killian's eyes when she'd confronted them. "Are you sure this is the only way?"
Her voice still sounded unusually deep to her ears, giving her a moment's pause.
"Don't tell me you're feeling guilty," he replied, his eyes crinkling with confusion. "The Sorcerer got what was coming to him. You heard him plotting with the others - it was only a matter of time before he had them grabbing the torches and pitchforks," he trilled, emphasizing his words with a flourish of his hands.
"Don't let self-doubt make you weak."
Emma glanced up sharply, her temper flaring.
"I'm not weak," she said, her voice as smooth and hard as stone. Her gaze faltered slightly, taking in the dank castle ruins she'd secluded herself in. "I just don't want to hurt them."
"Well, it's a little late to be getting cold feet," he said, squinting at her as though she were a particularly odd puzzle he'd encountered. "You can't be worried about a little memory spell - it's nothing they haven't experienced before, after all. Some of them may even find it comforting at this point. Like a re-set for the mind," he quipped.
He vanished, reappearing behind her a split second later. "Not to mention it will keep them all safely out of your way while you do what needs to be done. Once you've molded the spinner's empty heart into that of a champion, you'll have all the power you could ever dream of! Surely that's worth the price of a few painful memories?"
"Besides, what do you really owe them?" he continued with another roll of his eyes. "Once little mistake and they were ready to turn on you without a moment's notice."
For the first time, she noted the differences between the real Rumpelstiltskin and this phantom imitation. At first glance, they were identical, his high-pitched voice and expressive movements almost disturbingly realistic, but now she could see the cracks in the facade. There was a hardness in his eyes that the real Rumpelstiltskin tried to soften, at least when Belle was within spitting distance. The fake showed no hint of the man beneath the scaly skin, because there was no man there. Only darkness.
"I won't hurt them," she said steadily, setting the wand on the table and standing up straighter, a challenge in her eyes.
He seemed amused by her declaration. "You mean, any more than you already have?"
Her lip curled as she forced her emotions down. "I did what was necessary."
"And that's all you're doing now," he said sensibly, spreading his arms wide. "Once you have all of that power at your fingertips, you'll be able to protect what's yours - no one would dare take what belongs to the most powerful Dark One of all time, after all. And you'll never have to worry about not being good enough if you know they can never leave you."
He gestured pointedly at the vial of dark purple liquid on the table in front of her, the final ingredient for the memory spell. She picked it up, staring at the contents for a moment before unstopping it, pouring it into the waiting cauldron. The mixture began to bubble, silver smoke creeping over the sides onto the table, spreading across the uneven stone floor below.
Rumpelstiltskin giggled again, waving his claw-like fingers in poorly-concealed excitement.
"And then, you'll get everything you ever wanted."
* * *
Storybrooke, Present
Emma stared out the window at the waves, watching them break against the side of the ship. The early morning sun reflected off the water, the rippling of the ocean casting flares of light in every direction.
It was quiet, the early hour making Storybrooke feel empty in a way it usually didn't. To Emma, it was as though the air had been sucked out of the town, making everything around her seem dimmer.
She glanced behind her, her eyes drifting over Killian's cabin. It, too, was more subdued than usual, the creaking of the ship as it rocked in the harbour the only sound to be heard.
Killian had often bragged to anyone who would listen about the Jolly Roger's enchanted properties, running his hand over its well-polished wood with unmistakable pride. He'd spoken of the ship like it was a living, breathing thing - it was more than his home, it had been his constant companion over the centuries, the one place he knew as well as himself. Now, it was like the life had gone out of it, leaving behind little more than a wooden skeleton.
She wondered if it was all in her imagination, or if it was a sign the Jolly Roger knew its captain was gone.
She turned, trailing her fingers along the wooden table in the centre of the cabin, frowning as they came away coated in dust. Killian was meticulous about the cleanliness of his quarters. He took great pride in maintaining his ship; he'd spent weeks scrubbing the vessel from top to bottom after rescuing it from Blackbeard's clutches. But the entire cabin now bore signs of neglect.
She rubbed the dust between her fingers, her eyes drifting to the undisturbed sheets on the bed and the empty water jug on the desk. She'd seen enough abandoned hideouts in her life to recognize that Killian hadn't been down there in weeks. Which begged the question of where he'd been sleeping all this time.
She knew instinctively it hadn't been at her parents' place. Even if they'd realized he was avoiding his ship, Killian's first instinct would have been to pull away from the others, refusing to ask for help. They were alike in that regard, both of them struggling with the notion of leaning on others after so long with only themselves to rely on.
Most likely, he'd been spending his nights at the library, though how much sleep he'd actually been getting was anyone's guess. She'd seen him there at all hours of the day and night, researching tirelessly with Belle for a way to remove the Darkness. As the Dark One, she hadn't given it much thought, considering their efforts a harmless nuisance - something to keep them both occupied while she put the rest of her plan in place. Looking back now, she could recall the dark circles around Killian's eyes, the way he'd worn his frustration like a second skin, his temper always close at hand. He'd been slowly coming apart at the seams, desperate to fulfill his promise to her.
A promise that he didn't live to see fulfilled.
Emma blinked as another wave of grief washed over her, though it wasn't as fresh as it'd been the night before. She felt as if she'd cried every tear she had within her, leaving behind a hollow shell.
She'd tried returning to her house last night, but she'd found it unbearably quiet, the rooms nearly suffocating in their emptiness. She'd stared at the blank walls of her bedroom - their bedroom - for hours, unable to rest, haunted by the echoes of the better life the home had promised. Eventually, she'd found herself on the dock, staring up at Killian's ship in the pre-dawn light.
He'd given it up for her, once. It was his home - the only constant in his life - and he'd given it up without a second thought at a time when she couldn't even admit to herself that she cared for him. It was the most selfless thing anyone had ever done for her - so much so that she could hardly wrap her head around it at the time. She'd never had someone put her first like that, like it was second nature, like she was the most important thing in the world.
It was that gesture that had finally allowed her to let her walls down around him, but the memory of it now made her insides twist with guilt. Would he still have made that choice, if he'd known what she would become? Would he have given it up - his home, his freedom, the last connection to his brother and to Milah - if he'd known what it would end up costing him?
'The Jolly Roger is not an 'it', Swan. She's a 'she'.'
Her breath hitched as the memory of him teaching her to steer the ship floated back to her, Killian's teasing admonishment as clear as if he were standing right beside her. He'd gently guided her hands on the helm, smiling at her in a way no one ever had before - like she was the centre of his universe - even as he joked about her needing to find her sea legs. She'd relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth of his chest pressed along her back. It had felt safe. She'd felt safe.
Her hand went to the heavy ring hanging from her neck, feeling the cold metal against her palm.
His cheek was beginning to cool under her palm, his face far too still.
She choked on another sob, her vision blurring with more tears even as a desperate thought seized her. She rounded on Regina, something worryingly like hope bubbling up in her chest.
"Save him. Please," she begged, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes. "I know you're angry with me, but none of that is Hook's fault. I saved Robin for you - there has to be some way you can help him."
Regina hesitated, her arms still wrapped around Henry, whose cheeks were red and puffy. She gave him another squeeze before letting go, casting a sideways glance at Robin. He nodded grimly, hugging Henry closer in her absence.
She approached cautiously, kneeling on Killian's other side. Regina spared him a quick look before returning Emma's gaze.
"I... I don't know how to fix this, Emma," she said regretfully, shaking her head. "He's dead. There's nothing I can do."
"What about the glass coffin?"
Both women turned in surprise. Henry's cheeks were still streaked with tears, but he was standing straighter, a hint of defiance in his expression. Emma tried to catch his eye, but he ignored her, his attention fixed on Regina. A wave of anguish ran through her that had nothing to do with the body lying next to her.
Henry huffed, apparently frustrated by their lack of a response. "The coffin you brought over from the Enchanted Forest - you can put him in it."
"Henry..." Regina trailed off, wincing slightly. She paused, visibly rethinking her words before continuing. "The coffin can only preserve his body," she said, eyeing him with sympathy. "If his soul is gone..."
He cut her off with a shake of his head, his hands curling into fists. "So, we'll get it back. If we use the coffin, it'll give us time to figure out how to save him."
He sounded so certain, so determined, and in that instant Emma wanted to believe him. She glanced back at Regina who looked torn, clearly worried about getting Henry's hopes up.
But Emma didn't care if the chances were slim. For the first time since the fury had appeared, there was a glimmer of light, and she refused to let it go so easily.
"Please, Regina," she whispered.
Regina tore her gaze from their son, reading the desperation in Emma's eyes. She sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly in defeat. "Of course," she replied. "I'll need to do some preservation spells. We should move him to my vault as soon as possible."
It was clear from her tone that she considered it a lost cause, but Emma refused to let it deter her, a small weight lifting from her chest. If there was even the slightest chance to make things right, she'd find it, one way or another.
She looked back at Henry, but he turned away, leaning into Robin's side. Her parents remained at a distance, seeking comfort in each other's arms like always, having watched entire the exchange in silence.
She turned back to Killian, brushing the hair out of his eyes with a heavy heart.
I'll fix this, she promised him. I'll make everything okay again.
She shook herself from her thoughts, her fingers absently tracing the grooves of the ring. She'd taken it on an impulse, but she was grateful for its presence now. She'd been eager to move Killian to the coffin as soon as possible, but the moment Robin and David had tried to take him, she'd panicked. Suddenly, the thought of being parted from him filled her with an irrational anxiety, one she'd found difficult to suppress. She'd found herself lifting the chain from around his neck before she'd even realized what she was doing, needing to keep some part of him with her.
Looking at the ring now, she wondered what he'd think about her taking it.
He'd given up his home for her - travelled to Camelot for her - and in turn, she'd manipulated him, used him as another pawn in the Dark One's games. At the time, she'd convinced herself that she was doing it for him - for all of them - but with the curse broken, she was thinking more clearly. It wasn't love she'd been acting out of, but fear. Fear that he'd leave her, fear that he'd be taken from her, fear that she'd lose. It wasn't love that had guided her, it was selfishness.
'I loved you.'
She swallowed back tears. And what good did it do me, she thought bitterly. I still lost him in the end.
"Emma? Are you here?"
Her dad's voice echoed through the floorboards overhead. She was tempted to ignore him, to let him believe the ship was empty, but she knew he'd search the cabins eventually. The thought of anyone but Killian in this room made her nauseous.
She took a breath, steeling herself before climbing the narrow steps to the upper deck. She cringed as she pushed open the hatch, the bright blue sky blinding in comparison to the dim light of the cabin.
David stood in the middle of the lower deck, peering down at the covered hatch that led to the crew's quarters. Mary Margaret was a few paces away, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, guarding against the cool morning air. They both turned quickly as she appeared, tensing for a brief moment. Emma struggled to keep her emotions off her face, the awkwardness from the night before returning with a vengeance.
They had watched silently as Killian was taken away, Regina, Mary Margaret, and Henry lingering near the pond as she tried to reign in her grief. There had been an uncomfortable pause as David's truck pulled out of the park, the others clearly uncertain what to do with themselves. Two months ago, that pause would've been filled by her mother insisting that Emma return with them to the loft, that she not be alone after such a tragedy.
But things were different now.
Mary Margaret had opened her mouth, realizing a moment too late that her hesitation had not gone unnoticed, but Emma had cut her off, her walls coming down hard. For the first time since the curse had broken, her voice had been steady as she'd told them all that she needed to be alone.
No one had tried to stop her.
Now, her parents were watching her uncertainly, neither making to move toward her. Her hand went back to the chain around her neck, squeezing hard enough to feel the imprint of the jewel against her skin.
"We looked for you at your-" David cut himself off awkwardly, glancing at Mary Margaret. "At the house. We wanted to see how you were."
She took another deep breath, pushing her emotions deeper below the surface.
"I'm fine," she said.
Mary Margaret's mouth twisted into a doubtful curve. "Emma, I know a lot has happened the last few weeks, but grieving is normal. You don't have to be fine yet."
"I'm not grieving," Emma denied, walking down the steps to the lower deck with a determination she didn't quite feel. "Grieving is what you do when you lose someone for good."
Her parents exchanged a wary look.
"What do you mean?" asked David.
She set her shoulders. "I'm getting Killian back."
* * *The man's words echoed in the cavern, making Killian's ears ring. His forehead creased, a numbness settling in his limbs as he pushed himself to his feet.
"The afterlife? You mean I'm-"
"Dead?" said Hades - the Hades, if he was to be believed - his grin widening. "Afraid so. Tough break, there, tangling with a fury. It never ends well, believe me."
A fury. He frowned, his mind fuzzily conjuring the vague memory of a dark figure swooping down from the sky, its glowing red eyes the only clearly visible features in the moonlight. He'd never seen such a creature up close before, but he'd felt a stab of dread as he'd watched those fierce eyes focus their sights on Henry-
Henry. Gods, had the creature gotten him, too?
"The others-" he choked out, fear gripping him as he struggled to recall what had followed the fury's dive from the sky.
"Don't worry, they're all still topside," Hades assured him, waving his hand disinterestedly. "Your girlfriend conjured some bad mojo with that spell of hers but, lucky for her, the fury only required one soul to repay the debt. So, it's just you, big guy. And let me say, it's great to finally meet you in person."
Killian shook his head, confusion warring on his face.
"I'm sorry?"
"Captain Hook is a big catch for me - we've all been awaiting your arrival for quite some time," Hades replied, taking on a companionable tone that failed to put Killian at ease. "You've been dodging the big sleep for centuries. Neverland was a nice touch, by the way - I didn't see that one coming."
He chuckled, slapping Killian on the back hard enough to make him stumble.
"You should be flattered," he continued, oblivious to Killian's wince of pain. "I don't normally make personal visits like this, but I had to see it for myself: the dreaded Captain Hook finally joining the ranks of the dearly departed. What's it been, two hundred and fifty years? Time sure flies, doesn't it?"
Killian was barely listening, his thoughts a scattered mess. He couldn't be dead - not yet, not now - not when Emma still needed him. His mind was still struggling to piece together the broken fragments of his memories, searching for another explanation.
His host didn't seem to require his input, however, continuing on as though he had Killian's rapt attention.
"So, let me be the first to officially welcome you to the Underworld," he said, gesturing grandly at the cavern around them. "I'll admit, it takes some getting used to, but you'll get the hang of things soon enough."
"There's been a mistake," Killian interrupted, holding up his hand. "I can't stay here - I promised Emma I'd free her from the dark curse."
Hades' grin turned a touch patronizing, showing no offence at Killian's outburst.
"Regrets are kind of a common theme around here - there's always going to be something you wish you'd gotten the chance to do before biting the big one," he said dismissively. "Let me tell you, if I had a drachma for every poor schmuck who told me it couldn't be his time yet because he never got to finish that novel he was writing, I could buy Mount Olympus. Unfortunately, though, when your time is up, it's up. No take-backs."
"But-"
"I'm sure the do-gooders can handle whatever your sweetie-pie has planned," Hades said, waving off his concerns. "This is, what? The ninth major crisis for them? I think they'll manage just fine without you. And if they don't - hey, there's always plenty of room for them down here with you."
A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of Emma and the others having their lives snatched away from them. He shook his head again.
"There must be some kind of deal I can make," he pleaded, looking up at the god with desperation. "Something that will allow me to help Emma. I'll do anything."
"Sorry, I don't make deals anymore," said Hades. "Bad experience. You understand. Besides, you're dead. I already have your soul for all eternity - it's not like you have anything else to offer me."
Killian could think of no response to that - he had plenty of gold and riches back in the land of the living, but what use were they to a god? He didn't have magic like Emma and Regina, or the powers of the Author like Henry. There was truly little else of value he could suggest in trade for his life.
He closed his eyes as despair overtook him, remembering the cold and calculating look on Emma's face as she'd brandished Excalibur. Had she already succeeded in slaying Merlin? Was there even any saving her now? How could he have failed her so poorly?
It appeared as though Hades was used to emotional displays from his guests, his expression taking on a faintly indulgent air.
"I know it's a lot to get used to, Captain - can I call you Captain? - but don't let that put a damper on the first day of the rest of your afterlife," he said, gesturing at the dank cave. "It's not so bad down here. In fact, you know what? Let me show you around."
Hades wrapped an impossibly large hand around the back of his neck. He tensed at the touch, but the god seemed oblivious to his discomfort, his strength easily forcing Killian to fall into step beside him or risk falling flat on his face.
For the first time, he noticed the shallow river that had been behind him, the water an eerie green colour that matched the strangely glowing air. Wisps of white swirled just below the surface, vanishing in and out of sight. The river itself was massive, seeming to disappear into the darkness in either direction.
He frowned, tilting his head. A moment ago, the water had seemed only a few inches deep, but the longer he stared at it, the further down the bottom appeared to be. The misshapen white masses flickered in its murky depths, casting strange images on the surface. He wondered how deep it truly was.
Hades noticed his interest with a chuckle, veering them away from the water's edge. Killian blinked dazedly, the sudden movement startling him from his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'd steer clear of swimming if I were you, big guy," he warned, his words tinged with suppressed amusement. "It's less fun than it looks."
They ventured further into the cave, away from the mysterious river, though the scenery didn't improve much. Killian took in the sights warily, covertly searching for an exit, but every direction was the same as the last, bar a few stray boulders here and there. There was no sign of how he'd arrived in the Underworld, let alone how to leave.
A loud growl came from the shadows ahead. He jumped back in shock as the massive head of a vicious-looking black dog lunged toward him, its jaws snapping shut within mere inches of him. He tensed, his eyes widening as he spotted two more heads emerging from the darkness, each as ferocious as the last. Their teeth were bared, massive, sharp canines slick with spit as they growled in his direction.
The three-headed beast strained against a thick, metal collar at its conjoined neck, a chain rattling behind it as it pulled relentlessly at its restraints. A thick mass of spittle broke loose from one its mouths, spraying the tops of Killian's boots.
Hades laughed at his reaction, apparently unconcerned by the monstrous creature yearning to chew them to bits. He gave a high-pitched whistle, the beast immediately sitting back on its haunches, a low whimper sounding from two of its three heads.
"Don't mind him," he said, leading Killian past the creature with nary a second glance. "He's a big softie on the inside. And by that, I mean if you cross him, you'll get to see his soft, squishy insides when he eats you."
He let out another bark of laughter at his own joke, slapping Killian on the back in his merriment. Killian smiled uneasily, glancing back at the beast from the corner of his eye. He hoped to whoever was listening that his escape wouldn't require him to face the beast again - somehow, he doubted it would respond so kindly to his attempts to call it off.
"You're getting the five-star tour, here, Captain," Hades remarked in a way that clearly implied Killian should feel honoured. "I don't usually let the dead venture over this way, but I had Charon bring you in through the back entrance. Less crowded - I don't like to mingle with the masses if I can avoid it. You know how it is - nothing but desperate souls pawing at you, vying for your attention. You must have been used to that where you were from, what, with your reputation."
Hades' smile widened as the cavern they were walking through began to expand, eyeing their dismal surroundings with a look of pride they truly did not deserve.
"I know it's a lot to take in at first, but you'll get the hang of things soon enough. Once you get your judgement, you'll feel right at home."
Killian pulled up short, only to stumble a moment later from the force of Hades' unyielding grip on his neck. He righted himself, staring up at the god who had observed his clumsiness with vague bemusement.
"Judgement?"
"Well, yeah, big guy," Hades chuckled, shaking his head. "What, did you think the afterlife was all nectar and ambrosia and singing campfire songs until the end of days? Doesn't work like that."
"Think of this as a rest stop, of sorts," Hades mused, waving his arm in a grand gesture to encapsulate the cavern that surrounded them. "People come here to receive the punishments they've accrued over their lifetime."
Killian stiffened, worry settling low in his gut. Despite his companion's cavalier attitude, he somehow doubted such a prospect boded well for him.
Hades noticed his discomfort, snorting softly. "Don't worry, you're not special - pretty much everyone has something to make up for. The main difference is how long a time you end up serving. Some people get a few years, and others - well, let's just say we've had a few guests here since fire was the next big invention. But once the punishment's over, you head on down to the next level, no questions asked."
His gruesome smile did nothing to set Killian at ease.
"The next level?"
"The folks around here refer to it as 'moving on,'" said Hades, his long fingers making quotes in the air. "Can't say too much about it - big secret, very hush-hush, et cetera et cetera - but it's where almost everyone ends up eventually. Unless the judges decide that you're beyond redemption, in which case, I'd get comfortable."
Killian's thoughts were buzzing, his mind conjuring a host of unpleasant scenarios that could await him. He'd faced his share of punishments throughout his life, though he knew they all fell far short of what he deserved. Still, the knowledge that every soul was welcomed into the embrace of the afterlife by facing retribution for their deficiencies made his heart ache for those who'd gone before him.
"So, any idea how long I'm to be condemned for?" he ventured quietly, his voice rougher than he'd intended. He planned to be long-gone before any punishment could be put into place, but he wasn't daft enough to believe he could evade death forever. If there was one thing Killian Jones believed in, it was being prepared.
Hades made a face. "'Condemned' is a harsh word. Think of it more like a divine tally of the good and the bad. And, unfortunately for you, Captain, a few years of good deeds doesn't erase centuries of bad ones." He reached into his robes, producing a tightly-rolled scroll. With a flourish, the scroll fell open, reaching nearly to the ground.
"And you've done some doozies over the years, haven't you? That con you pulled with the clergyman from the Land of Nod is a particular favourite of mine."
Killian eyed the list with a sense of foreboding, curiosity and dread warring within him. He could guess some of what was written there, but in truth, his life had been such a long one that there were surely misdeeds he'd forgotten, sins he'd never given a second thought, consumed as he was with his revenge. Hades waved his hand, the scroll disappearing in a puff of wispy black smoke.
He gestured down the dark path ahead of them, indicating that they should continue their journey.
The cavern continued to widen as they walked, the sickly green air nearly vibrating with energy. Killian clenched his fist at his side, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He could feel the god watching him, observing his anxiety with poorly-concealed entertainment.
"Don't let it worry you, Captain," he said, his oily grin beginning to wear on Killian's nerves. "Very few people get eternal punishment anymore. We usually save that for the ones who've really ticked off a god. Fortunately for you, you patched things up with Poseidon - boy, can that guy hold a grudge!"
He clapped his large hand on Killian's back again, his fingers clawing slightly into his shoulder.
"Put in your time, and in a few hundred years you could be free to wander the fields in peace. Who knows - by that time, your honey bear will probably be down here herself."
The thought of Emma in this place made him feel violently ill, especially as he considered her new status as the Dark One. His mind flashed on the image of Rumpelstiltskin's heart, little more than a chunk of black coal from his years of evil deeds. He couldn't bear the idea of Emma facing centuries of torment in this place because of her actions under the curse. And the longer he was down here instead of helping her break free, the more she would have to atone for.
He swallowed down his dread, letting himself be consumed by plans for escape. I won't let you become a regret, Swan, he swore, hoping somehow, she could hear him. I'll find a way to save you even if it's the last thing I ever do.
* * *"You can't bring people back from the dead. It's not possible."
Emma inhaled deeply, forcing herself to loosen her grip on the kitchen counter behind her.
She's only trying to help, she reminded herself, reigning in her frustration with a patience that was quickly evaporating. It was a thankless task, one that seemed to be getting harder and harder every time Regina opened her mouth.
Her parents' kitchen was relatively crowded, despite the early hour. David and Mary Margaret were both seated at the table, her dad feeding her little brother his bottle as they watched the tense exchange with growing concern.
Regina was on the other side of the kitchen, her arms folded over her perfectly-pressed red blouse, looking every bit as annoyed as Emma felt. Robin subtly placed a hand on her lower back, his eyebrows raised in a clear message. Regina rolled her eyes in return, though her rigid posture relaxed marginally under his touch.
Watching the two of them, Emma felt a sudden pang of longing. She bit back a spike of resentment that had nothing to do with Regina's defeatist attitude.
She turned her attention to the window, willing her emotions off her face until the feeling had passed.
"You can't know that for sure," she said stiffly, interrupting their silent conversation.
Regina huffed. "Believe me, if there was any way of doing it, I would know. It can't be done."
Emma's anger returned full-force, her magic flaring under her skin, pushing against the boundaries of her control. She curled her fingers tighter around the edge of the counter.
She knew Regina was actually trying to be helpful in her own, miserably blunt way. Things had changed a lot between the two of them since she'd first come to Storybrooke, but the flash of irritation she felt facing off against the other woman was as familiar as it ever was. She had a way of getting under Emma's skin, making her feel defensive in a way few others did.
It could be worse, she reasoned, glancing in the direction of the table. At least Regina wasn't tiptoeing around her like she might snap at any second.
Her parents had been dead silent throughout the debate, offering no valuable contributions apart from the endless, worried looks they kept shooting one another when they thought she wasn't watching. She bristled a little more each time she caught them, fighting the urge to call them on it.
She took another deep breath and crossed her arms, willing herself to calm down. It didn't help that anger seemed to be her default setting these days.
"Look, I'm not saying it to be cruel, just realistic," Regina continued in a much softer voice than before. "You can't bring Hook back - not the real Hook, anyway. The most you could get is a poor, twisted imitation." Her mouth slanted unpleasantly. "Even if you could bring him back, it'd require the darkest of magic. Hook wouldn't want that."
Emma inhaled sharply, the implication stinging more than Regina had likely intended. She didn't need anyone to remind her of Killian's feelings on dark magic - she'd seen it with her own eyes.
But if it's to save him... a traitorous voice whispered from deep within her mind. She drove the thought away, swallowing a spike of fear. Her chest ached, Killian's ring burning a hole in her sternum.
"I think he'd want to not be dead," Emma ground out instead, her voice shaking.
There was far too much empathy in Regina's expression for Emma's liking, her posture softening. "I know it hurts, Emma, but searching for a fix at any cost isn't the answer. Take it from someone who knows - you need to try to move on."
"Says the woman who went on a decades-long rampage when the guy she loved died," Emma shot back.
Regina reeled back as though she'd been slapped, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth to retort, but Mary Margaret beat her to it.
"I think what Regina's saying is that we're all upset about what happened to Hook," she said hesitantly, glancing between the two of them. "But we need to accept that it might not be possible to help him."
"I can't believe I'm actually agreeing with Snow White, but your mother's right," Regina said tartly. "I know it's hard to let go, but that's the only way you're going to be able to deal with your grief."
Easy for both of you to say when your true loves are standing right beside you. The thought made her heart ache all the more soundly. Finding out that she and Killian were true loves should have been amazing, if somewhat terrifying - a scene straight from Henry's storybook. Instead, the memory of it was drenched with sorrow, like a gaping hole in her chest. It felt like a cruel joke - the universe dangling her happy ending in front of her in the same instant it had snatched it away.
She clenched her hands, her nails digging into her palms.
A knock at the door interrupted the stand-off. David handed her brother to Mary Margaret before rising to answer it.
The door opened to reveal a slightly harried-looking Belle, her arms laden with books. Emma blinked, a crease forming between her eyebrows.
"Sorry I'm late," Belle said, making her way into the loft and unloading the books onto the kitchen table. "I thought of a few more volumes at the last minute that might be useful."
Gold trailed in after her, carrying a much smaller burden in the arm that wasn't heavily leaning on his cane. He glanced around the loft warily as he entered, looking far more uncertain than Emma had ever seen him, his shoulders curled forward ever so slightly.
She dropped her gaze, studying the patterns in the floor. It was the first time she'd seen either of them since she'd forced Gold to remove Excalibur from the stone, threatening to crush Belle's heart if he didn't comply. She'd given them little thought once the sword was in her hand, the pair of them having served their purpose in her mind.
Her cheeks burned as she realized she hadn't even bothered to ask about them after the curse broke. Clearly someone had thought to check in on them, though, if their presence here was any indication.
She shifted her stance, trying to avoid Gold's eyes - not a difficult task, since he seemed determined not to look at anyone, his hunched shoulders making him appear smaller. What did you even say to someone you'd kidnapped and terrorized into doing your evil bidding? On the one hand, he knew what being a Dark One was like, so maybe on some level he understood why she'd done what she had.
On the other hand, he seemed to be having his own problems adjusting to a post-Dark One life, given the cagey looks he was shooting everyone. Whereas Belle had immediately gravitated to the center of the group, he had stopped just inside the door, his posture guarded as though he was preparing to flee.
She watched him covertly through her lashes. He no longer looked like the powerful, confident puppet master who'd reigned as the Dark One for centuries, his gaze falling submissively as he silently passed Belle the books he'd been carrying.
At the same time, he wasn't quite the man he was before the Darkness, either - the man whose memories she'd lived as though they were her own, a lifetime experienced in a matter of seconds. There was a cunning gleam in his eyes, in the way he seemed to be furtively measuring those around him, but it shifted in and out, like the two versions of him were fighting for control beneath the surface.
Emma's heart sank as she watched him, the answer to a question she couldn't bring herself to ask. There was no going back to the man he was before.
Belle, for her part, looked exhausted, her hands absently running over the covers of the books on the table. Emma stiffened as she accidentally caught her eye, but to her surprise, Belle's expression immediately softened.
"I'm so sorry about Killian," she said earnestly, displaying an uncomfortable amount of sympathy for someone who'd been abducted from her home only a few short days before.
Emma swallowed past the lump in her throat. She gave a small nod, not sure what to do with the unexpected compassion. Belle seemed to sense her discomfort, her attention shifting to the group at large.
"What have we missed?"
"We were just discussing whether it's possible to help Hook," Robin supplied diplomatically. "I'll be honest, I've never heard of anyone coming back from the dead."
"That's because it can't be done," Regina muttered, though there was no real bite to her words.
"We don't know that for sure," said Emma. "It's not like he had a heart attack - he was taken by a fury. It wasn't a natural death. Maybe the rules are different."
Belle perked up, shuffling through her pile of books before producing a small brown one with a crack in its cover.
"That's what I thought as well. I read up on furies after Robin was attacked," she said with a small smile in Robin's direction. "The stories go on at length about the perils of attracting them, but there's not much written about what happens to the souls after they're collected. The only thing I could find was that they're delivered to the Underworld."
"You mean he's in Hell?" Emma demanded, her mind conjuring images of Killian surrounded by flames, alone and in pain.
To her relief, Belle shook her head. "The Underworld is the name of the land of the dead - according to legend, pretty much all souls go there. It's ruled by a god names Hades."
She pulled out another book, flipping through the pages.
"I've found a number of separate references to the Underworld, and to Hades himself, but nothing about bringing souls back once they've arrived there. There are spells for summoning spirits, obviously, but nothing permanent, and they can be difficult to cast depending on how the person died."
Emma raised her eyebrows, surveying the massive pile of books in disbelief. "You read through all of these this morning?"
Belle paused, her eyes darting uncomfortably to Regina. "Actually, Henry called me last night to ask if I knew anything about bringing back the dead," she said. "He told me what happened - he seemed pretty determined to help Killian."
Emma's heart lurched. Henry had been through so many losses already in his young life - she should've considered the impact another one would have on him.
"We shouldn't be getting his hopes up," Regina complained. Robin rubbed her back comfortingly.
"I think they're already up," said Belle, wincing apologetically. "He's been in the library all day, researching." She pulled out one of the larger books, one with a thick black spine. "He found a collection of legends about the Underworld - mostly about Hades and his wife, but some of them mention the souls that have journeyed there as well. There's no way to know how much truth there is to the stories, but it's a start."
Emma frowned. "Henry didn't want to tell us about them himself?"
Belle fingered the book in her hand uneasily, glancing again in Regina's direction. The mood in the loft shifted, the others avoiding her gaze.
Right. Of course, he wouldn't want to see her.
She looked down, ignoring the pity she could feel directed at her. She always used to be the first person Henry turned to, the first one he came to when he was hurting.
That was before you became a villain.
She didn't have time to waste feeling sorry for herself. She squared her shoulders, keeping her expression neutral.
"Okay, so we open a portal to the Underworld, find Killian, and bring him back."
"Oh, is that all?" Regina quipped, rolling her eyes. "You don't think if it was as simple as just strolling into the Underworld, everyone would do it?"
Emma bristled. "Look, if you don't want to help, no one's forcing you. I know you and Hook didn't exactly get along."
"I never said I wouldn't help," Regina shot back, crossing her arms again. "But we need to be realistic about our chances, here - we're talking about the Underworld, not a trip to a day spa."
Emma opened her mouth to retort, but David raised his hand, cutting her off.
"We all want to help Hook," he said pointedly. "But Regina's right - we can't get ahead of ourselves. What you're suggesting might not be possible."
Gold looked mildly displeased to have been lumped in with the others, but he remained silent, toying with the handle of his cane.
Her magic was pulsing against the underside of her skin, her ears beginning to ring. She forced it back down, her nerves buzzing from the effort. "So, that's it?" she said, struggling to keep her frustration in check. "It's too hard, so why bother? I thought heroes were big on saving people."
Her parents exchanged a loaded look.
"It's not just that it's difficult, Miss Swan," Gold spoke up from his corner of the room, his voice softer than normal. "It's never been done. Perhaps if you wanted to summon the pirate's spirit, say your goodbyes-"
"That's not good enough," she snapped, harsher than she'd intended. Mary Margaret failed to conceal a flinch, clutching Neal a bit closer to her chest. Something brittle tore inside of Emma, stealing her breath.
She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing more quietly.
"Every second we wait is another second Killian is trapped in the Underworld. Who knows what he's going through down there?"
Gold sighed, a hint of derision peeking through his otherwise meek exterior. "The Underworld isn't a realm like the Enchanted Forest or Neverland. Only the souls of those who have passed on were meant to travel there."
She shook her head. "That can't be true. There must be someone who's gone there without dying."
"There are a few legends," Belle offered. "Myths about mortals who've journeyed to the Underworld in search of deceased loved ones."
"Yes, legends," said Gold insistently, looking for all the world like it physically pained him to disagree with his wife. "But there's no known case of anyone actually rescuing a soul from the Underworld. The living can't enter, and the dead can't leave. Even if you somehow did manage to get there, you might find it very difficult to escape - certainly with one of Hades' souls in tow."
"I'll worry about that later," she said with more confidence than she felt. "Right now, all I care about is getting there."
Regina sighed resignedly. "Fine, if you insist on pursuing this, I'll check through my mother's spell books. Maybe there's something in there that can help." She glanced at Robin, who nodded his agreement.
"I'll keep researching the Underworld," said Belle. "It's possible it goes by other names."
David rested a hand on Mary Margaret's shoulder. "We'll help you with that," he volunteered.
Emma watched them settle into their familiar roles, feeling out of place among them. The rhythm was all off, the effect leaving her slightly unbalanced.
"Thanks," she murmured, the word sounding hollow to her ears. The sentiment went unnoticed, the others busy discussing plans of action.
They're helping, that's all that matters, she reasoned, pushing down her uneasiness. It'd be different once Killian was back.
Everything would be better then.
Author:
batgurl88
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Killian/Emma, Regina/Robin (background), Belle/Gold (background), David/Snow White (background)
Summary: Killian pays the ultimate price for Emma's actions as the Dark One - his life. Now, she and the others must overcome the scars of Camelot to save him, while Killian searches for an escape from the Underworld.
Canon-divergent AU of S5.
A/N: Thank you to anyone who's reading so far, and thanks to love-with-you-i-have-everything for the beta!
Chapter One
Camelot, Week 6
Rumpelstiltskin giggled, wiggling his fingers in amusement as he inspected the bark of the large oak tree that had sprouted up in the midst of the castle's ruins.
"Marvelous work, dearie," he said, turning back to her with a gleeful smile that bared his sharp teeth. "I'm not sure what it is about him, but I much prefer that meddling Sorcerer as kindling." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "It's so much more peaceful around here without having to listen to all of those pesky prophecies and boring old lectures about heroism," he mocked, rolling his beady yellow eyes.
Emma ignored him, staring at the instrument in her hands. She ran her pale fingers over the bumps and grooves of the knobby wand, her unnaturally fair skin a stark contrast against the deep ebony of the wood.
The imp grinned, waltzing toward her with a theatrical air.
"Just a few more steps, and you'll be ready to take what's yours."
He paused when she remained silent, his head tilting as she continued to stare at the Dark Fairy's wand. It hadn't been hard to get her hands on - Regina had kept the dagger well-protected, but she had neglected to take similar precautions with the powerful item that had brought them all to this realm. Henry had regaled her with the daring tale of how they'd used Zelena to activate the wand and summon a twister. It seemed that with Regina unable to use the wand herself, she'd forgotten that her sister wasn't the only one who could wield it.
She swallowed, twisting the wand in her fingers, feeling its power.
"What is it, dearie?" he asked. "You are mere weeks from your daring victory - from doing what no Dark One has ever done before. You can't be having second thoughts now?"
She kept her eyes on the wand, remembering the pain and betrayal in Killian's eyes when she'd confronted them. "Are you sure this is the only way?"
Her voice still sounded unusually deep to her ears, giving her a moment's pause.
"Don't tell me you're feeling guilty," he replied, his eyes crinkling with confusion. "The Sorcerer got what was coming to him. You heard him plotting with the others - it was only a matter of time before he had them grabbing the torches and pitchforks," he trilled, emphasizing his words with a flourish of his hands.
"Don't let self-doubt make you weak."
Emma glanced up sharply, her temper flaring.
"I'm not weak," she said, her voice as smooth and hard as stone. Her gaze faltered slightly, taking in the dank castle ruins she'd secluded herself in. "I just don't want to hurt them."
"Well, it's a little late to be getting cold feet," he said, squinting at her as though she were a particularly odd puzzle he'd encountered. "You can't be worried about a little memory spell - it's nothing they haven't experienced before, after all. Some of them may even find it comforting at this point. Like a re-set for the mind," he quipped.
He vanished, reappearing behind her a split second later. "Not to mention it will keep them all safely out of your way while you do what needs to be done. Once you've molded the spinner's empty heart into that of a champion, you'll have all the power you could ever dream of! Surely that's worth the price of a few painful memories?"
"Besides, what do you really owe them?" he continued with another roll of his eyes. "Once little mistake and they were ready to turn on you without a moment's notice."
For the first time, she noted the differences between the real Rumpelstiltskin and this phantom imitation. At first glance, they were identical, his high-pitched voice and expressive movements almost disturbingly realistic, but now she could see the cracks in the facade. There was a hardness in his eyes that the real Rumpelstiltskin tried to soften, at least when Belle was within spitting distance. The fake showed no hint of the man beneath the scaly skin, because there was no man there. Only darkness.
"I won't hurt them," she said steadily, setting the wand on the table and standing up straighter, a challenge in her eyes.
He seemed amused by her declaration. "You mean, any more than you already have?"
Her lip curled as she forced her emotions down. "I did what was necessary."
"And that's all you're doing now," he said sensibly, spreading his arms wide. "Once you have all of that power at your fingertips, you'll be able to protect what's yours - no one would dare take what belongs to the most powerful Dark One of all time, after all. And you'll never have to worry about not being good enough if you know they can never leave you."
He gestured pointedly at the vial of dark purple liquid on the table in front of her, the final ingredient for the memory spell. She picked it up, staring at the contents for a moment before unstopping it, pouring it into the waiting cauldron. The mixture began to bubble, silver smoke creeping over the sides onto the table, spreading across the uneven stone floor below.
Rumpelstiltskin giggled again, waving his claw-like fingers in poorly-concealed excitement.
"And then, you'll get everything you ever wanted."
* * *
Storybrooke, Present
Emma stared out the window at the waves, watching them break against the side of the ship. The early morning sun reflected off the water, the rippling of the ocean casting flares of light in every direction.
It was quiet, the early hour making Storybrooke feel empty in a way it usually didn't. To Emma, it was as though the air had been sucked out of the town, making everything around her seem dimmer.
She glanced behind her, her eyes drifting over Killian's cabin. It, too, was more subdued than usual, the creaking of the ship as it rocked in the harbour the only sound to be heard.
Killian had often bragged to anyone who would listen about the Jolly Roger's enchanted properties, running his hand over its well-polished wood with unmistakable pride. He'd spoken of the ship like it was a living, breathing thing - it was more than his home, it had been his constant companion over the centuries, the one place he knew as well as himself. Now, it was like the life had gone out of it, leaving behind little more than a wooden skeleton.
She wondered if it was all in her imagination, or if it was a sign the Jolly Roger knew its captain was gone.
She turned, trailing her fingers along the wooden table in the centre of the cabin, frowning as they came away coated in dust. Killian was meticulous about the cleanliness of his quarters. He took great pride in maintaining his ship; he'd spent weeks scrubbing the vessel from top to bottom after rescuing it from Blackbeard's clutches. But the entire cabin now bore signs of neglect.
She rubbed the dust between her fingers, her eyes drifting to the undisturbed sheets on the bed and the empty water jug on the desk. She'd seen enough abandoned hideouts in her life to recognize that Killian hadn't been down there in weeks. Which begged the question of where he'd been sleeping all this time.
She knew instinctively it hadn't been at her parents' place. Even if they'd realized he was avoiding his ship, Killian's first instinct would have been to pull away from the others, refusing to ask for help. They were alike in that regard, both of them struggling with the notion of leaning on others after so long with only themselves to rely on.
Most likely, he'd been spending his nights at the library, though how much sleep he'd actually been getting was anyone's guess. She'd seen him there at all hours of the day and night, researching tirelessly with Belle for a way to remove the Darkness. As the Dark One, she hadn't given it much thought, considering their efforts a harmless nuisance - something to keep them both occupied while she put the rest of her plan in place. Looking back now, she could recall the dark circles around Killian's eyes, the way he'd worn his frustration like a second skin, his temper always close at hand. He'd been slowly coming apart at the seams, desperate to fulfill his promise to her.
A promise that he didn't live to see fulfilled.
Emma blinked as another wave of grief washed over her, though it wasn't as fresh as it'd been the night before. She felt as if she'd cried every tear she had within her, leaving behind a hollow shell.
She'd tried returning to her house last night, but she'd found it unbearably quiet, the rooms nearly suffocating in their emptiness. She'd stared at the blank walls of her bedroom - their bedroom - for hours, unable to rest, haunted by the echoes of the better life the home had promised. Eventually, she'd found herself on the dock, staring up at Killian's ship in the pre-dawn light.
He'd given it up for her, once. It was his home - the only constant in his life - and he'd given it up without a second thought at a time when she couldn't even admit to herself that she cared for him. It was the most selfless thing anyone had ever done for her - so much so that she could hardly wrap her head around it at the time. She'd never had someone put her first like that, like it was second nature, like she was the most important thing in the world.
It was that gesture that had finally allowed her to let her walls down around him, but the memory of it now made her insides twist with guilt. Would he still have made that choice, if he'd known what she would become? Would he have given it up - his home, his freedom, the last connection to his brother and to Milah - if he'd known what it would end up costing him?
'The Jolly Roger is not an 'it', Swan. She's a 'she'.'
Her breath hitched as the memory of him teaching her to steer the ship floated back to her, Killian's teasing admonishment as clear as if he were standing right beside her. He'd gently guided her hands on the helm, smiling at her in a way no one ever had before - like she was the centre of his universe - even as he joked about her needing to find her sea legs. She'd relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth of his chest pressed along her back. It had felt safe. She'd felt safe.
Her hand went to the heavy ring hanging from her neck, feeling the cold metal against her palm.
His cheek was beginning to cool under her palm, his face far too still.
She choked on another sob, her vision blurring with more tears even as a desperate thought seized her. She rounded on Regina, something worryingly like hope bubbling up in her chest.
"Save him. Please," she begged, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes. "I know you're angry with me, but none of that is Hook's fault. I saved Robin for you - there has to be some way you can help him."
Regina hesitated, her arms still wrapped around Henry, whose cheeks were red and puffy. She gave him another squeeze before letting go, casting a sideways glance at Robin. He nodded grimly, hugging Henry closer in her absence.
She approached cautiously, kneeling on Killian's other side. Regina spared him a quick look before returning Emma's gaze.
"I... I don't know how to fix this, Emma," she said regretfully, shaking her head. "He's dead. There's nothing I can do."
"What about the glass coffin?"
Both women turned in surprise. Henry's cheeks were still streaked with tears, but he was standing straighter, a hint of defiance in his expression. Emma tried to catch his eye, but he ignored her, his attention fixed on Regina. A wave of anguish ran through her that had nothing to do with the body lying next to her.
Henry huffed, apparently frustrated by their lack of a response. "The coffin you brought over from the Enchanted Forest - you can put him in it."
"Henry..." Regina trailed off, wincing slightly. She paused, visibly rethinking her words before continuing. "The coffin can only preserve his body," she said, eyeing him with sympathy. "If his soul is gone..."
He cut her off with a shake of his head, his hands curling into fists. "So, we'll get it back. If we use the coffin, it'll give us time to figure out how to save him."
He sounded so certain, so determined, and in that instant Emma wanted to believe him. She glanced back at Regina who looked torn, clearly worried about getting Henry's hopes up.
But Emma didn't care if the chances were slim. For the first time since the fury had appeared, there was a glimmer of light, and she refused to let it go so easily.
"Please, Regina," she whispered.
Regina tore her gaze from their son, reading the desperation in Emma's eyes. She sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly in defeat. "Of course," she replied. "I'll need to do some preservation spells. We should move him to my vault as soon as possible."
It was clear from her tone that she considered it a lost cause, but Emma refused to let it deter her, a small weight lifting from her chest. If there was even the slightest chance to make things right, she'd find it, one way or another.
She looked back at Henry, but he turned away, leaning into Robin's side. Her parents remained at a distance, seeking comfort in each other's arms like always, having watched entire the exchange in silence.
She turned back to Killian, brushing the hair out of his eyes with a heavy heart.
I'll fix this, she promised him. I'll make everything okay again.
She shook herself from her thoughts, her fingers absently tracing the grooves of the ring. She'd taken it on an impulse, but she was grateful for its presence now. She'd been eager to move Killian to the coffin as soon as possible, but the moment Robin and David had tried to take him, she'd panicked. Suddenly, the thought of being parted from him filled her with an irrational anxiety, one she'd found difficult to suppress. She'd found herself lifting the chain from around his neck before she'd even realized what she was doing, needing to keep some part of him with her.
Looking at the ring now, she wondered what he'd think about her taking it.
He'd given up his home for her - travelled to Camelot for her - and in turn, she'd manipulated him, used him as another pawn in the Dark One's games. At the time, she'd convinced herself that she was doing it for him - for all of them - but with the curse broken, she was thinking more clearly. It wasn't love she'd been acting out of, but fear. Fear that he'd leave her, fear that he'd be taken from her, fear that she'd lose. It wasn't love that had guided her, it was selfishness.
'I loved you.'
She swallowed back tears. And what good did it do me, she thought bitterly. I still lost him in the end.
"Emma? Are you here?"
Her dad's voice echoed through the floorboards overhead. She was tempted to ignore him, to let him believe the ship was empty, but she knew he'd search the cabins eventually. The thought of anyone but Killian in this room made her nauseous.
She took a breath, steeling herself before climbing the narrow steps to the upper deck. She cringed as she pushed open the hatch, the bright blue sky blinding in comparison to the dim light of the cabin.
David stood in the middle of the lower deck, peering down at the covered hatch that led to the crew's quarters. Mary Margaret was a few paces away, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, guarding against the cool morning air. They both turned quickly as she appeared, tensing for a brief moment. Emma struggled to keep her emotions off her face, the awkwardness from the night before returning with a vengeance.
They had watched silently as Killian was taken away, Regina, Mary Margaret, and Henry lingering near the pond as she tried to reign in her grief. There had been an uncomfortable pause as David's truck pulled out of the park, the others clearly uncertain what to do with themselves. Two months ago, that pause would've been filled by her mother insisting that Emma return with them to the loft, that she not be alone after such a tragedy.
But things were different now.
Mary Margaret had opened her mouth, realizing a moment too late that her hesitation had not gone unnoticed, but Emma had cut her off, her walls coming down hard. For the first time since the curse had broken, her voice had been steady as she'd told them all that she needed to be alone.
No one had tried to stop her.
Now, her parents were watching her uncertainly, neither making to move toward her. Her hand went back to the chain around her neck, squeezing hard enough to feel the imprint of the jewel against her skin.
"We looked for you at your-" David cut himself off awkwardly, glancing at Mary Margaret. "At the house. We wanted to see how you were."
She took another deep breath, pushing her emotions deeper below the surface.
"I'm fine," she said.
Mary Margaret's mouth twisted into a doubtful curve. "Emma, I know a lot has happened the last few weeks, but grieving is normal. You don't have to be fine yet."
"I'm not grieving," Emma denied, walking down the steps to the lower deck with a determination she didn't quite feel. "Grieving is what you do when you lose someone for good."
Her parents exchanged a wary look.
"What do you mean?" asked David.
She set her shoulders. "I'm getting Killian back."
* * *The man's words echoed in the cavern, making Killian's ears ring. His forehead creased, a numbness settling in his limbs as he pushed himself to his feet.
"The afterlife? You mean I'm-"
"Dead?" said Hades - the Hades, if he was to be believed - his grin widening. "Afraid so. Tough break, there, tangling with a fury. It never ends well, believe me."
A fury. He frowned, his mind fuzzily conjuring the vague memory of a dark figure swooping down from the sky, its glowing red eyes the only clearly visible features in the moonlight. He'd never seen such a creature up close before, but he'd felt a stab of dread as he'd watched those fierce eyes focus their sights on Henry-
Henry. Gods, had the creature gotten him, too?
"The others-" he choked out, fear gripping him as he struggled to recall what had followed the fury's dive from the sky.
"Don't worry, they're all still topside," Hades assured him, waving his hand disinterestedly. "Your girlfriend conjured some bad mojo with that spell of hers but, lucky for her, the fury only required one soul to repay the debt. So, it's just you, big guy. And let me say, it's great to finally meet you in person."
Killian shook his head, confusion warring on his face.
"I'm sorry?"
"Captain Hook is a big catch for me - we've all been awaiting your arrival for quite some time," Hades replied, taking on a companionable tone that failed to put Killian at ease. "You've been dodging the big sleep for centuries. Neverland was a nice touch, by the way - I didn't see that one coming."
He chuckled, slapping Killian on the back hard enough to make him stumble.
"You should be flattered," he continued, oblivious to Killian's wince of pain. "I don't normally make personal visits like this, but I had to see it for myself: the dreaded Captain Hook finally joining the ranks of the dearly departed. What's it been, two hundred and fifty years? Time sure flies, doesn't it?"
Killian was barely listening, his thoughts a scattered mess. He couldn't be dead - not yet, not now - not when Emma still needed him. His mind was still struggling to piece together the broken fragments of his memories, searching for another explanation.
His host didn't seem to require his input, however, continuing on as though he had Killian's rapt attention.
"So, let me be the first to officially welcome you to the Underworld," he said, gesturing grandly at the cavern around them. "I'll admit, it takes some getting used to, but you'll get the hang of things soon enough."
"There's been a mistake," Killian interrupted, holding up his hand. "I can't stay here - I promised Emma I'd free her from the dark curse."
Hades' grin turned a touch patronizing, showing no offence at Killian's outburst.
"Regrets are kind of a common theme around here - there's always going to be something you wish you'd gotten the chance to do before biting the big one," he said dismissively. "Let me tell you, if I had a drachma for every poor schmuck who told me it couldn't be his time yet because he never got to finish that novel he was writing, I could buy Mount Olympus. Unfortunately, though, when your time is up, it's up. No take-backs."
"But-"
"I'm sure the do-gooders can handle whatever your sweetie-pie has planned," Hades said, waving off his concerns. "This is, what? The ninth major crisis for them? I think they'll manage just fine without you. And if they don't - hey, there's always plenty of room for them down here with you."
A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of Emma and the others having their lives snatched away from them. He shook his head again.
"There must be some kind of deal I can make," he pleaded, looking up at the god with desperation. "Something that will allow me to help Emma. I'll do anything."
"Sorry, I don't make deals anymore," said Hades. "Bad experience. You understand. Besides, you're dead. I already have your soul for all eternity - it's not like you have anything else to offer me."
Killian could think of no response to that - he had plenty of gold and riches back in the land of the living, but what use were they to a god? He didn't have magic like Emma and Regina, or the powers of the Author like Henry. There was truly little else of value he could suggest in trade for his life.
He closed his eyes as despair overtook him, remembering the cold and calculating look on Emma's face as she'd brandished Excalibur. Had she already succeeded in slaying Merlin? Was there even any saving her now? How could he have failed her so poorly?
It appeared as though Hades was used to emotional displays from his guests, his expression taking on a faintly indulgent air.
"I know it's a lot to get used to, Captain - can I call you Captain? - but don't let that put a damper on the first day of the rest of your afterlife," he said, gesturing at the dank cave. "It's not so bad down here. In fact, you know what? Let me show you around."
Hades wrapped an impossibly large hand around the back of his neck. He tensed at the touch, but the god seemed oblivious to his discomfort, his strength easily forcing Killian to fall into step beside him or risk falling flat on his face.
For the first time, he noticed the shallow river that had been behind him, the water an eerie green colour that matched the strangely glowing air. Wisps of white swirled just below the surface, vanishing in and out of sight. The river itself was massive, seeming to disappear into the darkness in either direction.
He frowned, tilting his head. A moment ago, the water had seemed only a few inches deep, but the longer he stared at it, the further down the bottom appeared to be. The misshapen white masses flickered in its murky depths, casting strange images on the surface. He wondered how deep it truly was.
Hades noticed his interest with a chuckle, veering them away from the water's edge. Killian blinked dazedly, the sudden movement startling him from his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'd steer clear of swimming if I were you, big guy," he warned, his words tinged with suppressed amusement. "It's less fun than it looks."
They ventured further into the cave, away from the mysterious river, though the scenery didn't improve much. Killian took in the sights warily, covertly searching for an exit, but every direction was the same as the last, bar a few stray boulders here and there. There was no sign of how he'd arrived in the Underworld, let alone how to leave.
A loud growl came from the shadows ahead. He jumped back in shock as the massive head of a vicious-looking black dog lunged toward him, its jaws snapping shut within mere inches of him. He tensed, his eyes widening as he spotted two more heads emerging from the darkness, each as ferocious as the last. Their teeth were bared, massive, sharp canines slick with spit as they growled in his direction.
The three-headed beast strained against a thick, metal collar at its conjoined neck, a chain rattling behind it as it pulled relentlessly at its restraints. A thick mass of spittle broke loose from one its mouths, spraying the tops of Killian's boots.
Hades laughed at his reaction, apparently unconcerned by the monstrous creature yearning to chew them to bits. He gave a high-pitched whistle, the beast immediately sitting back on its haunches, a low whimper sounding from two of its three heads.
"Don't mind him," he said, leading Killian past the creature with nary a second glance. "He's a big softie on the inside. And by that, I mean if you cross him, you'll get to see his soft, squishy insides when he eats you."
He let out another bark of laughter at his own joke, slapping Killian on the back in his merriment. Killian smiled uneasily, glancing back at the beast from the corner of his eye. He hoped to whoever was listening that his escape wouldn't require him to face the beast again - somehow, he doubted it would respond so kindly to his attempts to call it off.
"You're getting the five-star tour, here, Captain," Hades remarked in a way that clearly implied Killian should feel honoured. "I don't usually let the dead venture over this way, but I had Charon bring you in through the back entrance. Less crowded - I don't like to mingle with the masses if I can avoid it. You know how it is - nothing but desperate souls pawing at you, vying for your attention. You must have been used to that where you were from, what, with your reputation."
Hades' smile widened as the cavern they were walking through began to expand, eyeing their dismal surroundings with a look of pride they truly did not deserve.
"I know it's a lot to take in at first, but you'll get the hang of things soon enough. Once you get your judgement, you'll feel right at home."
Killian pulled up short, only to stumble a moment later from the force of Hades' unyielding grip on his neck. He righted himself, staring up at the god who had observed his clumsiness with vague bemusement.
"Judgement?"
"Well, yeah, big guy," Hades chuckled, shaking his head. "What, did you think the afterlife was all nectar and ambrosia and singing campfire songs until the end of days? Doesn't work like that."
"Think of this as a rest stop, of sorts," Hades mused, waving his arm in a grand gesture to encapsulate the cavern that surrounded them. "People come here to receive the punishments they've accrued over their lifetime."
Killian stiffened, worry settling low in his gut. Despite his companion's cavalier attitude, he somehow doubted such a prospect boded well for him.
Hades noticed his discomfort, snorting softly. "Don't worry, you're not special - pretty much everyone has something to make up for. The main difference is how long a time you end up serving. Some people get a few years, and others - well, let's just say we've had a few guests here since fire was the next big invention. But once the punishment's over, you head on down to the next level, no questions asked."
His gruesome smile did nothing to set Killian at ease.
"The next level?"
"The folks around here refer to it as 'moving on,'" said Hades, his long fingers making quotes in the air. "Can't say too much about it - big secret, very hush-hush, et cetera et cetera - but it's where almost everyone ends up eventually. Unless the judges decide that you're beyond redemption, in which case, I'd get comfortable."
Killian's thoughts were buzzing, his mind conjuring a host of unpleasant scenarios that could await him. He'd faced his share of punishments throughout his life, though he knew they all fell far short of what he deserved. Still, the knowledge that every soul was welcomed into the embrace of the afterlife by facing retribution for their deficiencies made his heart ache for those who'd gone before him.
"So, any idea how long I'm to be condemned for?" he ventured quietly, his voice rougher than he'd intended. He planned to be long-gone before any punishment could be put into place, but he wasn't daft enough to believe he could evade death forever. If there was one thing Killian Jones believed in, it was being prepared.
Hades made a face. "'Condemned' is a harsh word. Think of it more like a divine tally of the good and the bad. And, unfortunately for you, Captain, a few years of good deeds doesn't erase centuries of bad ones." He reached into his robes, producing a tightly-rolled scroll. With a flourish, the scroll fell open, reaching nearly to the ground.
"And you've done some doozies over the years, haven't you? That con you pulled with the clergyman from the Land of Nod is a particular favourite of mine."
Killian eyed the list with a sense of foreboding, curiosity and dread warring within him. He could guess some of what was written there, but in truth, his life had been such a long one that there were surely misdeeds he'd forgotten, sins he'd never given a second thought, consumed as he was with his revenge. Hades waved his hand, the scroll disappearing in a puff of wispy black smoke.
He gestured down the dark path ahead of them, indicating that they should continue their journey.
The cavern continued to widen as they walked, the sickly green air nearly vibrating with energy. Killian clenched his fist at his side, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He could feel the god watching him, observing his anxiety with poorly-concealed entertainment.
"Don't let it worry you, Captain," he said, his oily grin beginning to wear on Killian's nerves. "Very few people get eternal punishment anymore. We usually save that for the ones who've really ticked off a god. Fortunately for you, you patched things up with Poseidon - boy, can that guy hold a grudge!"
He clapped his large hand on Killian's back again, his fingers clawing slightly into his shoulder.
"Put in your time, and in a few hundred years you could be free to wander the fields in peace. Who knows - by that time, your honey bear will probably be down here herself."
The thought of Emma in this place made him feel violently ill, especially as he considered her new status as the Dark One. His mind flashed on the image of Rumpelstiltskin's heart, little more than a chunk of black coal from his years of evil deeds. He couldn't bear the idea of Emma facing centuries of torment in this place because of her actions under the curse. And the longer he was down here instead of helping her break free, the more she would have to atone for.
He swallowed down his dread, letting himself be consumed by plans for escape. I won't let you become a regret, Swan, he swore, hoping somehow, she could hear him. I'll find a way to save you even if it's the last thing I ever do.
* * *"You can't bring people back from the dead. It's not possible."
Emma inhaled deeply, forcing herself to loosen her grip on the kitchen counter behind her.
She's only trying to help, she reminded herself, reigning in her frustration with a patience that was quickly evaporating. It was a thankless task, one that seemed to be getting harder and harder every time Regina opened her mouth.
Her parents' kitchen was relatively crowded, despite the early hour. David and Mary Margaret were both seated at the table, her dad feeding her little brother his bottle as they watched the tense exchange with growing concern.
Regina was on the other side of the kitchen, her arms folded over her perfectly-pressed red blouse, looking every bit as annoyed as Emma felt. Robin subtly placed a hand on her lower back, his eyebrows raised in a clear message. Regina rolled her eyes in return, though her rigid posture relaxed marginally under his touch.
Watching the two of them, Emma felt a sudden pang of longing. She bit back a spike of resentment that had nothing to do with Regina's defeatist attitude.
She turned her attention to the window, willing her emotions off her face until the feeling had passed.
"You can't know that for sure," she said stiffly, interrupting their silent conversation.
Regina huffed. "Believe me, if there was any way of doing it, I would know. It can't be done."
Emma's anger returned full-force, her magic flaring under her skin, pushing against the boundaries of her control. She curled her fingers tighter around the edge of the counter.
She knew Regina was actually trying to be helpful in her own, miserably blunt way. Things had changed a lot between the two of them since she'd first come to Storybrooke, but the flash of irritation she felt facing off against the other woman was as familiar as it ever was. She had a way of getting under Emma's skin, making her feel defensive in a way few others did.
It could be worse, she reasoned, glancing in the direction of the table. At least Regina wasn't tiptoeing around her like she might snap at any second.
Her parents had been dead silent throughout the debate, offering no valuable contributions apart from the endless, worried looks they kept shooting one another when they thought she wasn't watching. She bristled a little more each time she caught them, fighting the urge to call them on it.
She took another deep breath and crossed her arms, willing herself to calm down. It didn't help that anger seemed to be her default setting these days.
"Look, I'm not saying it to be cruel, just realistic," Regina continued in a much softer voice than before. "You can't bring Hook back - not the real Hook, anyway. The most you could get is a poor, twisted imitation." Her mouth slanted unpleasantly. "Even if you could bring him back, it'd require the darkest of magic. Hook wouldn't want that."
Emma inhaled sharply, the implication stinging more than Regina had likely intended. She didn't need anyone to remind her of Killian's feelings on dark magic - she'd seen it with her own eyes.
But if it's to save him... a traitorous voice whispered from deep within her mind. She drove the thought away, swallowing a spike of fear. Her chest ached, Killian's ring burning a hole in her sternum.
"I think he'd want to not be dead," Emma ground out instead, her voice shaking.
There was far too much empathy in Regina's expression for Emma's liking, her posture softening. "I know it hurts, Emma, but searching for a fix at any cost isn't the answer. Take it from someone who knows - you need to try to move on."
"Says the woman who went on a decades-long rampage when the guy she loved died," Emma shot back.
Regina reeled back as though she'd been slapped, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth to retort, but Mary Margaret beat her to it.
"I think what Regina's saying is that we're all upset about what happened to Hook," she said hesitantly, glancing between the two of them. "But we need to accept that it might not be possible to help him."
"I can't believe I'm actually agreeing with Snow White, but your mother's right," Regina said tartly. "I know it's hard to let go, but that's the only way you're going to be able to deal with your grief."
Easy for both of you to say when your true loves are standing right beside you. The thought made her heart ache all the more soundly. Finding out that she and Killian were true loves should have been amazing, if somewhat terrifying - a scene straight from Henry's storybook. Instead, the memory of it was drenched with sorrow, like a gaping hole in her chest. It felt like a cruel joke - the universe dangling her happy ending in front of her in the same instant it had snatched it away.
She clenched her hands, her nails digging into her palms.
A knock at the door interrupted the stand-off. David handed her brother to Mary Margaret before rising to answer it.
The door opened to reveal a slightly harried-looking Belle, her arms laden with books. Emma blinked, a crease forming between her eyebrows.
"Sorry I'm late," Belle said, making her way into the loft and unloading the books onto the kitchen table. "I thought of a few more volumes at the last minute that might be useful."
Gold trailed in after her, carrying a much smaller burden in the arm that wasn't heavily leaning on his cane. He glanced around the loft warily as he entered, looking far more uncertain than Emma had ever seen him, his shoulders curled forward ever so slightly.
She dropped her gaze, studying the patterns in the floor. It was the first time she'd seen either of them since she'd forced Gold to remove Excalibur from the stone, threatening to crush Belle's heart if he didn't comply. She'd given them little thought once the sword was in her hand, the pair of them having served their purpose in her mind.
Her cheeks burned as she realized she hadn't even bothered to ask about them after the curse broke. Clearly someone had thought to check in on them, though, if their presence here was any indication.
She shifted her stance, trying to avoid Gold's eyes - not a difficult task, since he seemed determined not to look at anyone, his hunched shoulders making him appear smaller. What did you even say to someone you'd kidnapped and terrorized into doing your evil bidding? On the one hand, he knew what being a Dark One was like, so maybe on some level he understood why she'd done what she had.
On the other hand, he seemed to be having his own problems adjusting to a post-Dark One life, given the cagey looks he was shooting everyone. Whereas Belle had immediately gravitated to the center of the group, he had stopped just inside the door, his posture guarded as though he was preparing to flee.
She watched him covertly through her lashes. He no longer looked like the powerful, confident puppet master who'd reigned as the Dark One for centuries, his gaze falling submissively as he silently passed Belle the books he'd been carrying.
At the same time, he wasn't quite the man he was before the Darkness, either - the man whose memories she'd lived as though they were her own, a lifetime experienced in a matter of seconds. There was a cunning gleam in his eyes, in the way he seemed to be furtively measuring those around him, but it shifted in and out, like the two versions of him were fighting for control beneath the surface.
Emma's heart sank as she watched him, the answer to a question she couldn't bring herself to ask. There was no going back to the man he was before.
Belle, for her part, looked exhausted, her hands absently running over the covers of the books on the table. Emma stiffened as she accidentally caught her eye, but to her surprise, Belle's expression immediately softened.
"I'm so sorry about Killian," she said earnestly, displaying an uncomfortable amount of sympathy for someone who'd been abducted from her home only a few short days before.
Emma swallowed past the lump in her throat. She gave a small nod, not sure what to do with the unexpected compassion. Belle seemed to sense her discomfort, her attention shifting to the group at large.
"What have we missed?"
"We were just discussing whether it's possible to help Hook," Robin supplied diplomatically. "I'll be honest, I've never heard of anyone coming back from the dead."
"That's because it can't be done," Regina muttered, though there was no real bite to her words.
"We don't know that for sure," said Emma. "It's not like he had a heart attack - he was taken by a fury. It wasn't a natural death. Maybe the rules are different."
Belle perked up, shuffling through her pile of books before producing a small brown one with a crack in its cover.
"That's what I thought as well. I read up on furies after Robin was attacked," she said with a small smile in Robin's direction. "The stories go on at length about the perils of attracting them, but there's not much written about what happens to the souls after they're collected. The only thing I could find was that they're delivered to the Underworld."
"You mean he's in Hell?" Emma demanded, her mind conjuring images of Killian surrounded by flames, alone and in pain.
To her relief, Belle shook her head. "The Underworld is the name of the land of the dead - according to legend, pretty much all souls go there. It's ruled by a god names Hades."
She pulled out another book, flipping through the pages.
"I've found a number of separate references to the Underworld, and to Hades himself, but nothing about bringing souls back once they've arrived there. There are spells for summoning spirits, obviously, but nothing permanent, and they can be difficult to cast depending on how the person died."
Emma raised her eyebrows, surveying the massive pile of books in disbelief. "You read through all of these this morning?"
Belle paused, her eyes darting uncomfortably to Regina. "Actually, Henry called me last night to ask if I knew anything about bringing back the dead," she said. "He told me what happened - he seemed pretty determined to help Killian."
Emma's heart lurched. Henry had been through so many losses already in his young life - she should've considered the impact another one would have on him.
"We shouldn't be getting his hopes up," Regina complained. Robin rubbed her back comfortingly.
"I think they're already up," said Belle, wincing apologetically. "He's been in the library all day, researching." She pulled out one of the larger books, one with a thick black spine. "He found a collection of legends about the Underworld - mostly about Hades and his wife, but some of them mention the souls that have journeyed there as well. There's no way to know how much truth there is to the stories, but it's a start."
Emma frowned. "Henry didn't want to tell us about them himself?"
Belle fingered the book in her hand uneasily, glancing again in Regina's direction. The mood in the loft shifted, the others avoiding her gaze.
Right. Of course, he wouldn't want to see her.
She looked down, ignoring the pity she could feel directed at her. She always used to be the first person Henry turned to, the first one he came to when he was hurting.
That was before you became a villain.
She didn't have time to waste feeling sorry for herself. She squared her shoulders, keeping her expression neutral.
"Okay, so we open a portal to the Underworld, find Killian, and bring him back."
"Oh, is that all?" Regina quipped, rolling her eyes. "You don't think if it was as simple as just strolling into the Underworld, everyone would do it?"
Emma bristled. "Look, if you don't want to help, no one's forcing you. I know you and Hook didn't exactly get along."
"I never said I wouldn't help," Regina shot back, crossing her arms again. "But we need to be realistic about our chances, here - we're talking about the Underworld, not a trip to a day spa."
Emma opened her mouth to retort, but David raised his hand, cutting her off.
"We all want to help Hook," he said pointedly. "But Regina's right - we can't get ahead of ourselves. What you're suggesting might not be possible."
Gold looked mildly displeased to have been lumped in with the others, but he remained silent, toying with the handle of his cane.
Her magic was pulsing against the underside of her skin, her ears beginning to ring. She forced it back down, her nerves buzzing from the effort. "So, that's it?" she said, struggling to keep her frustration in check. "It's too hard, so why bother? I thought heroes were big on saving people."
Her parents exchanged a loaded look.
"It's not just that it's difficult, Miss Swan," Gold spoke up from his corner of the room, his voice softer than normal. "It's never been done. Perhaps if you wanted to summon the pirate's spirit, say your goodbyes-"
"That's not good enough," she snapped, harsher than she'd intended. Mary Margaret failed to conceal a flinch, clutching Neal a bit closer to her chest. Something brittle tore inside of Emma, stealing her breath.
She closed her eyes for a moment before continuing more quietly.
"Every second we wait is another second Killian is trapped in the Underworld. Who knows what he's going through down there?"
Gold sighed, a hint of derision peeking through his otherwise meek exterior. "The Underworld isn't a realm like the Enchanted Forest or Neverland. Only the souls of those who have passed on were meant to travel there."
She shook her head. "That can't be true. There must be someone who's gone there without dying."
"There are a few legends," Belle offered. "Myths about mortals who've journeyed to the Underworld in search of deceased loved ones."
"Yes, legends," said Gold insistently, looking for all the world like it physically pained him to disagree with his wife. "But there's no known case of anyone actually rescuing a soul from the Underworld. The living can't enter, and the dead can't leave. Even if you somehow did manage to get there, you might find it very difficult to escape - certainly with one of Hades' souls in tow."
"I'll worry about that later," she said with more confidence than she felt. "Right now, all I care about is getting there."
Regina sighed resignedly. "Fine, if you insist on pursuing this, I'll check through my mother's spell books. Maybe there's something in there that can help." She glanced at Robin, who nodded his agreement.
"I'll keep researching the Underworld," said Belle. "It's possible it goes by other names."
David rested a hand on Mary Margaret's shoulder. "We'll help you with that," he volunteered.
Emma watched them settle into their familiar roles, feeling out of place among them. The rhythm was all off, the effect leaving her slightly unbalanced.
"Thanks," she murmured, the word sounding hollow to her ears. The sentiment went unnoticed, the others busy discussing plans of action.
They're helping, that's all that matters, she reasoned, pushing down her uneasiness. It'd be different once Killian was back.
Everything would be better then.