Emma thought Hook was different—he believed in her superpower. So why did he keep lying to her? (Canon.. and head canon through 3x14)


Emma couldn't sleep—the nightmare too real, the room too hot.

The kid snoring on the pull-out bed too loud.

She exited her room at the B&B—the same room from her first arrival in Storybrooke—and tiptoed to the first floor, hoping some hot chocolate might be enough to lull her back to sleep.


Sleep after that dream?

Not going to happen.

Emma found him downstairs, standing by the window, his hook pulling back the curtain while he peered outside. She paused on the creaky step—stealth no longer an option. "Is there something I should be worried about?"

Hook glanced at her, his eyes meeting hers briefly in the dimly lit room before returning to his vigil. "Merely a feeling, love. I would wake you if it was more than that."



She took a moment to study him, noting his lack of vest and coat—his black shirt loose, hanging free, and completely unbuttoned—his leather pants covering his legs instead of the pajama bottoms David had loaned him, and his hair tousled and askew.

No one should look that hot with bedhead.

She dug her nails into her palms, curbing the sudden urge to wrap her arms around him.

An urge occurring with more and more frequency.

Damn him.

"Perhaps you should take my photograph with that communication device you carry, Swan." He smirked at her, his eyes traveling over her before glancing away. "To remember me should you lose your memory again."

Heat flooded her cheeks—how did he do that?—and she tried to cover it with an eye roll and changed the subject. "It's 3 a.m. What are you really doing down here?" She continued down the steps, joining him by the window.

"I already told you." His eyes remained focused outside.

Emma could see the shadows beneath his eyes now, highlighted by the slashes of light seeping through the crack in the curtain. "You're lying. Again."

His eyes found hers, the intensity shimmering in the blue depths sending a shiver down her spine. "Perhaps the answers are not yours to know."

She treaded dangerous territory and needed to walk away, to go back to her room and pretend this moment never happened.

But he lied!

To me.

The one guy I thought I could trust.

He's like everyone else.

He's hiding something.


Something I need to know.

Are you sure about that?

Instead of walking away and doing the smart thing, she invaded his space, closing the remaining distance between them, just like he so often did with her. "I thought you were different. But you're no better than the rest of them."

The words were a mistake, laced with a hint of bitterness and anger beneath the sadness. She wanted to take them back.

She wanted to scream them again.

God I'm a mess.

His eyes bored into hers, blazing anger mingled with pain, his posture rigid and tense, like a dangerous animal waiting to strike.

A part of her wanted him to strike, welcomed it.

Craved it.

He leaned into her, bringing their faces within an inch of touching, his breath hot against her lips. "Now who's the one lying, love?"

A simple shift in weight from either of them and their lips would meet. The pull to lean forward and kiss him was suddenly so strong Emma wondered if a spell was involved.

No. Don't let him do this. Don't let him off the… hook.

"Prove me wrong. Tell me the whole truth."

I dare you.

The words remained unspoken, but his sharp intake of breath made it clear he'd heard the message.

You're playing with fire.

You're going to get burned.

"As you wish." His hook—even partially dressed he wore it—traveled up her side, the coolness seeping through the material of her plaid pajamas until it brushed a lock of her hair over her shoulder. "But first, answer three questions for me."

This reminded her of the game Truth or Dare—only this wasn't a game.

I'm not going to like this.

"Fine." The heat radiated between them, trapped in the narrow space between their bodies and she fought herself, wanting to bring his skin against hers, knowing she'd never get her answers if she did. "But they have to be yes or no questions."

He raised an eyebrow at her, a small smile hinting on his lips. "You're taking all of the fun out of this, love. Very well." His fingers brushed her hand so lightly she wondered if it was accident. "Do you trust me?"

She swallowed, her instinct to tell him no, because he had lied to her.

But his honesty in allowing her to see they were lies, that he hid things from her….

She kept her eyes on his, though a part of her feared handing him this power over her. "Yes."

He nodded, as if the answer was anticipated, but she couldn't miss the flare of hope in his eyes. He cleared his throat. "Next question, love. Would it please you to know that I kept my word, and not a day has gone by over the last year that I have not thought of you?"

Her insides twisted at his question and she looked away, remembering their good-bye at the town line, her encouragement of him to do just that, only to forget minutes later he even existed.

He thought of me. Every. Day.


His hook tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him, his demanding stare weakened by the vulnerability dancing in the depths. "Swan? Answer the question."

Her heart pounded—she wasn't ready, she couldn't, she was just in love with someone else—and she bit her lip, wondering if it was too late to flee to her room.

He smirked at her, but it never reached his eyes, and his hook traveled down her neck before dropping to his side, the smooth curve sending another shiver through her. "If you don't want to answer, just walk away. Nothing is keeping you here."


She heard it through his words.

Through the façade he seemed to wear more and more—with her, for her—since arriving in Storybrooke.

She couldn't walk away.

"Yes." She swallowed again, her eyes glued to his. "The answer is yes."

Happiness flickered in his eyes—and she thought the broody pirate was hot? damn, the happy one was even more devastating—before he masked it. His hook played with her hair again as he smiled, a genuine one this time. "Last question, love." He licked his lips before bringing them closer to hers. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Heat flooded her, a blend of desire and anger—at him, at herself.

Fucking pirate.

Walked right into that one, didn't I?

He can't have this too.

She let her anger shine through, using it to hide her other feelings. "How about a punch in the face?"

And—damn him—he smiled at her, and the warmth spread through her body no matter how hard she tried to contain it. "A simple yes or no will suffice." She glared at him and Hook quirked an eyebrow at her. "Your rules, darling, not mine."

I should kiss that smile right off of his face.

But that's what he wants.

I'm not ready. It's too soon. Just a few days ago I kissed someone else and…

.and look how well that turned out.

She continued to throw her anger at him. "Afraid to try it after the last time?"

The smile left his face—she missed it, dammit. His eyes darkened and she swore a mask lifted from his face, allowing her to see the fear and insecurity normally kept buried. "Terrified, but not for the reason you think." He pressed his forehead against hers, his next words barely a whisper. "Answer, or our deal is done."

"Yes." The word was out before she could stop it and she fought for damage control. "But I can't."

His nose brushed against hers and his mouth—dear god his mouth—was so close. "Why not?"

Because sometimes a kiss isn't just a kiss.

Sometimes it is nothing. Meaningless.

And sometimes...

Sometimes it is everything.

And everything has the power to destroy me.

Luckily she didn't owe him an answer. "That's four questions, Hook, and it isn't even a yes or no one."

She caught the agony in his eyes before he stepped back and turned away from her, his gaze going to the window. "Too right, love."

Cold surrounded her with the loss of his body heat and she rubbed her arms to get warm again, her anger gone as quickly as it had arrived. "We had a deal, Hook. You promised me the truth."

Even from a few feet away the tension radiating off his body was palpable and she had to fight the urge to touch him all over again.

He is a magnet, always pulling me in.

She wanted to soothe him and take away the pain.

She wanted to feel his skin against hers. Something as simple as lacing her fingers with his or—


Not going to happen.

"Are you certain you want it, Swan? After all, you might not be able to handle it." He wouldn't look at her—he missed the blush lacing her cheeks—and she wondered what else he hoped to hide.

Can I handle it?

My last boyfriend turned into a flying monkey and I bashed him with a pipe.

I can handle anything.


"Prove you aren't like the others."

Everyone who lied.

Who left me.

Who broke my heart.

He sighed and faced her again, this time keeping a few feet between them. "By telling you the truth?"

"It's a start."

He pulled his flask from his pocket, popping the lid off and taking a swig before offering it to her. "Don't say I didn't warn you, love."

She took it from him, taking a hit before handing it back, their fingers brushing as she did.

Such a little touch.

I want more.

No you don't, dammit.

"I left your family in the Enchanted Forest, not because I was bored, but because they were content to leave you to your happy life built on lies. They believed Regina when she told us there was no way back to you."

She ignored the twinge of hurt—her parents would always find each other, but her, with her their magic always seemed to stop.

Not for Hook.

Emma raised her eyebrows at him. "But you didn't?"

He returned the look. "I've spent my life accomplishing impossible tasks, love. Why should saving you be any different?"

The heat returned with his words.

He wanted to save me.

He came back for me.

No one ever comes back.

She shoved the thoughts away. "So you didn't spend the year swashbuckling on your ship?"

"I did seek out the Jolly Roger. I didn't lie to your father—the Jolly Roger was my home—but she's also made of enchanted wood and I knew she was the best way to travel the realms to find you." Hook's gaze burned into her again. "But I didn't wait for a message to search for you. I began that journey the day we were ripped apart."


He shrugged. "Someone had to save the Savior, since your false memories prohibited you from saving yourself."


Or half-truth?

"You're still hiding something, Hook."

A string of curses erupted from his lips and his control seemed to snap. He took a long stride toward her until only the tiniest sliver of space remained between them and she looked away before closing her eyes, suddenly afraid of what she might learn.

Be careful what you wish for.

"Look at me, Emma." A broken plea.

I can't. I can't.


She opened her eyes to find his, open and unguarded, allowing her to see everything he'd sought to protect her from.

Hurt. Hope. Determination. Desperation.


Nonono. She was reading him wrong. She had to be.

You know you aren't.

He hasn't exactly been subtle, if you're willing to see.

His words startled her from her thoughts.

"What do you want to hear, love? Do you want to know about how much it hurt you didn't even want to tell me goodbye at the town line? How badly I wanted to hold you close when I saw your tears? How elated I was when you whispered "good" and I believed you returned even a fraction of my feelings? How I vowed to save you the moment I recognized your wish to never forget your family?

She backed away from the force of his words, colliding with the wall as he refused to allow her the space she desperately sought, matching her steps.

You asked for this.

"Everything I did, every sacrifice, every bloody moment of my life from that point on was to find you. To save you. To get back to you. "

"I didn't ask you to." She forced the words out, barely able to whisper them, still reeling from his confession.

His knuckles brushed against her cheek, wiping a dampness away she hadn't noticed. "Aye, you did, Swan. You forget, you're an open book to me. Every part of you hoped someone would find you, like your boy found you. How could I not do that for you?"

Her body shook, fighting to hold back the tears while his words bombarded the few walls remaining.

No. This is too much.

Another brush of his hand. "I had to find you."

He warned you. You didn't listen.

"I needed to find you."

I'm not ready for this.

"You see, I—"

She grabbed his wrist, ignoring the searing heat of his skin and guiding it back to his side. "Stop… Please. Just stop."

His breath brushed her ear as he leaned closer. "Are you quite certain, love? I'm just getting to the really good part."

She shivered, whether from the caress of his words, or fear of what he might say, she wasn't sure.

Do I want to know?






Just tell him the truth.

"I don't know." She realized her hand still held his wrist and dropped it like a hot potato.

"It can wait until you do." The mask slid back into place almost instantly. He stepped away, giving her a nod before turning his back and resuming peering out the window.

Go away.

His body language screamed "go away".

Pretend this never happened.

Listen this time.

Her bare feet thudded softly on the wooden floors, the loudest noise the creak of the second step.

It made her pause.

Don't leave him like that.

Tell him.

"I was wrong. You aren't like everyone else. I just need some time to… process that."

He twisted around, eyes seeking hers again, but she was too far away to see what they held. "I'm not going anywhere, darling." He gave her a little bow. "Goodnight, Swan."

He would stay.

He wouldn't leave.

Did that surprise her?

Not anymore.

A smile crossed her face. "Goodnight…Killian."

He watched her until she disappeared, waiting for the telltale click of her door before dropping his shield, his body nearly collapsing as it sagged with the weight of what he'd done.

Emma hadn't been ready to hear his words and he was thankful she'd only heard a portion of everything he'd spent the last year bottling inside.

He had no other choice; she'd forced his hand. Hiding the truth from her, having to lie, it grated on him and she'd picked up on it instantly.

He doubted she'd press him for answers again.

"What are you really doing down here?"

A nightmare shattering his sleep. A winged monkey—the one she'd nearly married—crashing through the window at Granny's, ripping Emma away from him, cackling as he flew away, "She loved me, but she'll never love you."

He needed to stand guard, as ridiculous as it sounded, and make sure it did not come true.

"I thought you were different. But you're no better than the rest of them."

Her words lashed at him—she'd meant them too—trying to keep him at arms length.

If she knew, even slightly, of all he'd done to find her—of the deal he'd made…. She might push him away forever.

Though if he failed to win her heart…

That will be the least of my problems.

If only she would let him in, truly see and accept him.

And stop being afraid he'd hurt her.

Or abandon her.

As if I could.

Accept his love….

Killian held her answers tight in his heart, flaming the hope that refused to die.

They were enough. For now.

Tick tock.

Until time ran out the clock.

Anyone else need this to happen in the show?

I'll be adding more "deleted scenes" to this fic (as I'm inspired), so they can all be under one spot.

As always, many thanks to Arandil, my amazing beta.