A Dangerous Game: Part IV

A Once Upon a Time Fanfic

“Hook,” Baelfire says, “I don’t know what she told you, but you can’t trust anything she–”

Emma lunges forward, stopping just before the tip of the sword touches his throat. Where is he?" Her eyes scan the brush around them. “Why isn’t he with you?”

Baelfire still doesn’t look at her. “Hook, please.”

Hook draws his own sword. There’s a lot he doesn’t understand, and he’s quite sure he’s missing most of the story, but that can be sorted out later. For now, her son (her son?) is lost, alone on Neverland, and he knows exactly how dangerous that is.

He lets his voice drop low and dangerous. “I suggest you answer the lady’s question.”

Baelfire’s eyes widen. “Seriously? You’re helping her? I thought you of all people wouldn’t want anything to do with her.”

“Why?”

Emma’s eyes dart over to him, pain evident in them, but it only lasts a moment before she’s turning back to Baelfire.

Baelfire laughs incredulously. “Oh, so you didn’t tell him. I shouldn’t be surprised, because Dark Ones always lie, don’t they?”

Emma gritted her teeth. “I don’t have time for–”

But Baelfire wasn’t finished. “She’s the Dark One, Hook! She killed my father and became just like him!”

For a moment, the only thought echoing through his mind is that Rumplestiltskin is dead. Two hundred years, working toward his revenge, all for nothing, because Rumplestiltskin is dead and now–now he truly has nothing.

“And so you decided to steal my child?” Emma shouts, drawing his attention back to the conversation.

Baelfire straightens slightly, though he keeps a wary eye on her blade. “He’s my son too.”

“Then where is he? Why isn’t he here with you?”

Baelfire swallows. “He’s–he’s with Pan.”

“What have you done?"

But he doesn’t answer her, instead turning to Killian, as though pleading to him for mercy. “I had to! You know what the Dark Ones are like, and I knew she’d never stop following me.”

Horror washes over Killian as it all clicks into place. “So you sold your own son over to Pan?”

Baelfire flinches back, but then anger twists his face. “You know, I thought you at least would understand since you did the same thing to me.”

Killian opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, because he did do the same thing to Baelfire, and he’s regretted it every moment since. And if that is why–if he is why Emma’s son has been handed over to Pan . . . .

Dark, steely tendrils of magic leap from Emma’s fingertips, wrapping around Baelfire and dragging him closer. She turns her sword, leaning in close as she presses the blade against his throat. “You should have known I would find him. I will always find him, and I will kill you for trying to take him away.”

“Emma, no.” Killian steps as close to between them as he can, resting his hand and hook on her shoulders. “No, you can’t kill him.”

She glares up at him, black nearly overtaking the green of her eyes the same way it did after she killed Felix. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“For your son,” he says gently, squeezing her shoulder. “He needs his mother, not the Dark One.”

Because Baelfire is wrong. Emma is nothing like Rumplestiltskin, and, though he didn’t realize it before, he’s been watching her fight against the darkness this entire time.

She turns away, looking past him to Baelfire, but he cups his hand under her jaw, turning her gently back to him. “He’s not worth it. Trust me, love. I’ve given into the darkness because I have nothing to live for, but you? You have your son. Hold on for him.”

Tears stream down her cheeks when she closes her eyes, and, with trembling hands, she slowly lowers her sword.

“Oh, boo, Captain!”

Killian flinches at the all-too-familiar young voice as its owner steps through the trees. An even younger boy thrashes in his grip, until he sees them, eyes growing wide. “Mom!”

“Henry!” Emma shouts. Her hand slides into her cloak and pulls out a small round box. “Let him go.”

Pan ignores her, still watching Killian. “I mean, I couldn’t let her actually kill Baelfire–a deal’s a deal, after all–but you didn’t have to ruin the fun quite so soon. Where’s that ruthless pirate when I need him?”

Emma waves her hand, and grey smoke swirls around Pan and her son. She aims the box in their direction, clearly ready to use it as a weapon of some sort, but when the smoke clears, nothing has changed.

“No,” she mutters, waving her hand again, but still, nothing happens. “No, why isn’t it working?”

“Oh,” Pan drawls, voice dripping with false sympathy. “Are you missing something? You know, you should really keep a closer eye on your things.”

He pulls a crooked dagger from behind his back, and Killian sucks in a sharp breath. He knows that dagger, has searched for the Dark One’s weaknesses for centuries, and there, plain as day, a name etched across it.

Emma.

The boy stops thrashing when he sees it, tears running down his cheeks. “Mom.” It’s no longer a cry for help, instead a whimper of defeat.

“Henry,” Emma sobs, frozen and completely at the mercy of the demon standing before them. “I’m so sorry.”

Killian realizes none of them are paying him any attention now, and he carefully reaches into his coat for a small vial, carefully creeping in a wide arc toward Pan and the boy.

“Oh, yes,” Pan says, turning back to Baelfire. “I can’t forget. Thank you for bringing me your son’s heart. You’re free to go.”

Stiffly, Emma waves her hand, and the smoky binds vanish. Baelfire stumbles forward. “His–his what? I thought you just wanted him.”

Pan flashes a cruel smile. “What does it matter? You brought him to me, and now you’re free to go. So go."

Baelfire flinches, but takes a staggering step back–then turns and runs.

“Well, this has been fun,” Pan says cheerfully, “but my time is running out, and I really need your son’s heart.” He pauses, as if a thought has just occurred to him. “Oh, but you’re welcome to watch, of course.”

He turns back to the boy, and Killian realizes he’s out of time. He can’t let this boy–Emma’s son, Milah’s grandson–die. He dashes forward, shoving the boy to the ground. Before Pan can think to command Emma to kill him, he thrusts his hook into Pan’s chest.

Pan’s eyes flash as he jerks it out, clicking it out of the brace and tossing it into the jungle. “Did you really think that could stop–”

He cuts off abruptly, eyes bulging as he chokes, and black spreads down his arms and up his face. “No! What did you do?”

“What I should have done a long time ago,” Killian says, tossing aside the now-empty vial of dreamshade.

Pan’s face twists in rage, and before Killian realizes what he’s doing, he grabs his jacket and drags him closer. “If I’m going, I’m taking you with me.”

Searing, white-hot pain radiates from Killian’s chest, and he can’t help but cry out. Spots dot his vision, and then–

His heart, glowing in Pan’s hand.

He hasn’t feared death in centuries, had even expected it to come with his revenge. What he told Emma is true–he has nothing to live for, and a few days ago, he might even have welcomed the idea, but now–

He looks back over his shoulder, and finds Emma with her son in her arms.

He thinks he could have lived for her–lived for them both–if he’d have the chance.

Then Pan squeezes, his heart crumbling to dust.

Henry is in her arms.

For the first time since Rumplestiltskin kidnapped him, her son is in her arms, and for a moment, she forgets everything else–Neverland, Pan, Baelfire, the dagger–and just holds him.

Then Killian screams, and her heart stops as she pulls Henry even closer. She looks up, just in time to see Pan crush a heart in his hands, then they both fall.

Pan still holds the dagger, but she feels the moment he dies, the moment he loses his hold over, and she scrambles to her feet, dragging Henry along with her.

“Is–is he dead?” Henry whispers.

“Pan’s dead.” She refuses to think he might have been talking about Killian.

Henry tugs his hand out of hers, running over the two fallen figures, and she follows, heart pounding a desperate please, please, please. She drops to her knees beside Killian, hands frantically searching for a pulse, but she can’t find anything.

“Here. Now no one can control you again.” Henry drops the dagger beside her, but she can’t look at it, knowing it took Killian from her.

The darkness churns inside her, urging her after Baelfire, pleading death and revenge and pain, but she clings to Henry beside her, and to Killian’s words, pushing it back.

“Killian,” she begs, “Come back to me.”

She can’t do this without him. Even when she was lying to him, even without knowing the truth, he’s helped her, holding the darkness at bay simply with his presence, and she knows it will be all too easy to give in without him.

Henry lays his hand on her shoulder. “He doesn’t have a heart. He can’t live without one.”

She gasps, the sound coming out almost as a sob. A heart. He needs a heart.

She reaches into her chest, holding back a cry of pain as she pulls out her own. She closes her eyes and tries to remember her mother’s usual speeches about hope and belief as she tears it in two.

“Mom!” Henry cries.

Her eyes shoot open, and she thrusts one half of her heart back into her chest so she has a hand free to cradle his face. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I promise. It can’t kill me. I’m immortal, remember?”

Then, holding tightly to her last shred of hope, she shoves the other half of her heart into Killian’s chest.

He gasps, eyes flying open.

“Killian!” she cries, and Henry’s eyes grow wide.

“It worked,” he whispers.

Killian sits up, searching all around them until he finds Pan’s corpse. His shoulders sag slightly in relief, then he turns to Emma, and he breathes, “How?”

She throws her arms around his neck, and his arms come up around her almost automatically. “I gave you part of my heart. I–I wasn’t sure it would work.”

His hand spasms against her back. “You–you what?"

She pulls back enough to see the bewildered look on his face, and cups his face in her hands. “I couldn’t lose you.”

His lips are on hers before she realizes he’s moved, and she slides her hand around to the back of his head as she kisses him right back.

Henry gasps, startling them both apart. “Mom, your hair! It’s back to normal!”

“What?” She pulls a lock over her shoulder, and finds it back to its usual golden-blonde. Eyes widening, she reaches for the dagger where Henry left it, and finds smooth metal staring back at her where her name was a moment before.

“The darkness is gone,” she realizes. She can’t feel it anymore, and she looks back up at Killian to find him staring at her in wonder.

“But how?”

She smiles, thinking of her parents making it back to each other through every obstacle. “True Love’s Kiss.”

She stands at the bow of his ship, a magic bean in her hand.

Henry darts all over the deck, much to the amusement of the crew, who are much more accepting of Emma now that she’s free of the Dark One’s power. She holds out her other hand to take his.

“Ready to go home?” she asks.

“Aye, love. Let’s go home.”

She smiles and throws the bean.

The End