Based off a tumblr post by whisperofgrace about how Emma tells Hook about his Disney counterpart.
For those of you who may wonder where the next ch. of The Call of Destiny is it's nearly finished. I've had a rough couple of weeks but it will be done soon. I couldn't get this out of my head though because it demanded to be written. This is a two-parter, the next chapter will be out probably Monday since I have to work tomorrow.
Review and enjoy!
The fire was starting to die down, its glow dimly illuminating the clearing where they had made camp. David and Mary Margaret were curled together beneath their tent and Regina had settled as far as possible from the rest of them without leaving the circle of firelight. Emma stared at the dwindling flames and thought absently about getting up to find more firewood. She jumped when a twig snapped behind her and swung around the sword Hook had given her already in hand and swinging around toward the interloper. There was a small clink as her sword connected with the glinting curve of a metal hook and Emma felt herself flush with embarrassment as she realized that she'd nearly taken Hook's head off. The wood he'd been carrying was lying in a heap near their feet, he'd dropped it ducking her swing and raising his hook to catch the blade.
"Good that you're prepared love, but next time think you could look before you try to decapitate me? I quite like my head where it is." Hook winked at her as he let her pull back the blade and bent to gather up the fallen wood.
"Um yeah sorry. Just a bit jumpy I guess." She apologized, feeling the heat in her cheeks slowly fade. She hoped that with the fire behind her the shadows over her face were dark enough he hadn't seen her blush. He'd never let her live it down.
"Quite understandable in these circumstances." He said. She stared at him for a moment as he started to gather up the wood but took a step back when he suddenly looked up at her. In the orange glow of the fire they were darkened from their normal brilliant hue so that his eyes seemed to match the backdrop of the stars above them. She started when she realized he'd caught her staring and she glared at him as if daring him to make a quip about it. He smiled a bit but let it go instead gesturing to the mess of firewood littering the ground.
"Would you mind giving me a hand?"
She shot him an incredulous look that said 'really?' and he chuckled.
"So to speak."
Shaking her head she sheathed the sword and bent down to help, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground as she worked. They were silent as they picked up the fallen sticks only the crackle of the fire and the soft hiss of the wind blowing through the trees the only noise aside from the occasional bird call. Glancing down she reached out for a stick laying a few feet away only to close her fingers around a warm hand instead of rough wood. She snatched her hand away as if she'd been burnt, catching the slight expression of hurt that flitted across Hook's face at the gesture. She couldn't stop herself from staring as she realized what it was she'd seen then felt her chest constrict in shame. This was the third time she'd shut him down when he was only trying to help.
She opened her mouth to apologize but before she could get the words out it was if a veil had been pulled over his face, all traces of hurt gone in an instant. She stayed there for a moment looking after him as he walked toward the fire to place his pile of wood near enough that he could reach it without risking it catching a stray spark from the flames. An unpleasant hot feeling was beginning to settle in her stomach and she shifted in place uncomfortably. Why should it matter if he'd been hurt by the gesture? She couldn't afford to let her mind wander from the task at hand. Even so somewhere in the back of her mind a little voice told her she was being unfair. That she was treating him as though he were her enemy rather than her ally and that it was especially shameful to do so after the speech she'd made at the beachfront earlier that evening. The look on his face as he shut away his hurt flashed through her mind again. She recognized that look - she'd worn it for most of her life. Quietly she gathered up the remaining wood and made her way over to where he sat.
She deposited her own burden on top of the pile he had made and then moved to sit near him. He didn't look at her as she settled herself onto the hard ground pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her head on her knees so that her face was turned toward him. She watched him stare at the fire, tracing her eyes along the outline of his profile in the flickering light. There was a tenseness to the line of his brow that gave away just how much her reaction to his touch had bothered her despite the calm façade he'd put on. She didn't want him to be angry with her; she needed him on her side more than ever but she didn't know how to explain why she'd pulled away the way she had. She thought back to his words earlier, when he'd said he fancied her. She'd be lying if she said the thought didn't make her want to smile. She only half believed his words but even that was more than she'd dared to do in years. He had come back, for her – to help her – when no one else had. He was the first person to choose what she had to offer instead of running. She'd seen the sorrow in his eyes when he spoke of Milah back on the beanstalk and she knew what it must have cost him to give up his revenge but still he'd done it. Maybe it would be alright to risk a little trust, now that he'd shown her that part of himself. The silence stretched between them for a long moment before Emma cleared her throat. He didn't glance at her and she fought down a sigh before biting her lip and plunging ahead.
"I didn't say thank you earlier, for helping us get here. You came back when you could have left with that bean so, thank you." She paused watching the line of his features soften as he processed her words.
"You know you're not really what I expected you to be, back when we met I mean." She said haltingly as the image of the Disney version of him flitted through her head and couldn't stifle the giggle that rose in her throat as she recalled the cartoonish buffoon that was the counterpart to the very real, very capable pirate next to her. The movie was one of her earliest memories, from just after leaving her first foster home. Back then all she'd wanted was for Peter Pan to come and whisk her off to Neverland. To be able to fly away from the feeling of being unwanted to a place where she could leave all that behind and just be a carefree child, forever playing with friends who loved her. The irony of that didn't escape her now.
At the sound of her giggle Hook finally turned to face her, eyebrow raised in surprise.
"What did you think I'd be like then? Obviously you'd heard of me already back when we met, what did you expect me to be?" There was genuine curiosity in his voice and Emma had to bite back a gleeful laugh at the thought of what his face was surely about to look like when he heard of his doppelganger.
"Well, for one thing I thought you'd be a bit more bloodthirsty. In the story I know, you killed a deckhand just because he sang an annoying song." Now both of Hook's eyebrows were raised and Emma fought down another giggle.
"I'm not quite that heartless love besides I wouldn't want to kill a crewman for such a minor annoyance. You never know when you might need them for cannon fodder." He said. Emma rolled her eyes. She had the feeling that Hook's crew had been more of a family than simply underlings that he tolerated for their usefulness. It must have been nice. She made a mental note to ask him about it one day.
"What else did your stories get wrong about me?" Hook's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Oh lots of things. You're actually quite foolish in the story I know. Apart from being terrified of the crocodile that ate your hand –"
"Now hold on, I am not bloody terrified of that scaly – " Hook was nearly shouting and Emma held up a hand to shush him.
"Shhh! I know you're not. I'm just telling you what you want to know. Anyway in the story it's a literal crocodile. After Peter cuts off Hook's hand he feeds it to the beast who likes it so well that he follows Captain Hook around trying to get the rest of him. Peter and the lost boys almost feed you to it after making you admit to being a codfish when they corner you on your ship." Emma snickered at the scandalized expression on Hook's face. Before he could utter another outraged shout she went on.
"They got your name wrong too. You're James Hook in the story I know." Emma said. Hook's face went from shock to disgust in an instant.
"James? What kind of name is that for a pirate? That's a noble's name not something that a pirate would go by. Make's one think of princes and puffy sleeves, I find that I am offended." Hook stuck his nose in the air. Emma couldn't hold back her laugh this time and Hook joined her a moment later.
"Seriously though how could you confuse me with that preposterous character? I am nothing like him. I think I've demonstrated my bravery well enough by now along with my courage. Not to mention that I have a proper name, love. Killian Jones is so much better than James Hook."
"I'll admit they didn't really do you justice." She said softly resting her head on her knees again.
"Well I'm hard to live up to." He trailed off for a moment, looking at the fire. Then he turned to her and she saw a spark of mischievous amusement flickering in his eyes.
"You know love, you could call me Killian. I think you'd quite enjoy it." He winked and Emma shook her head rolling her eyes.
"I don't think so."
"And why not love? Have you got something against my name?"
Emma opened her mouth to reply but she was cut off by the twang of an arrow cutting through the air as all hell broke loose.