One year after the death of Killian Jones

Storybrooke

1 AM

Emma Swan's cell phone rang, jolting her from her troubled slumber. Her arms flailed in the dark for a few startled moments, clawing at the air in a panic before she awoke fully and recognized the sound.

Groaning, she rolled towards her nightstand until she saw the square of light that seemed to swim through both the dark and her blurry, sleep-filled eyes. Reaching out, she captured the device and focused on the screen.

Rabbit Hole, read the incoming call, and Emma gritted her teeth, kicking her feet to loosen the sheets that she'd managed to wrap around her body while tossing and turning. "This had better be good. If the ringing woke the baby, anyone and everyone involved in the making of this call is going to jail."

She snapped a 'Hello' into the phone upon answering it, probably more brusquely than she'd intended.

A cracking, tremulous voice wavered through the speaker."O-Oh, Sheriff, this is Henny Penny, from The Rabbit Hole. I know it's late – early, I mean, and the boss isn't here tonight, and I -"

Some shouting and scuffling sounded in the background of his call, and Emma sat up in her bed, reluctantly moving her free hand over to the nightstand once more, this time to switch on her lamp. She had a distinct feeling she wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon.

" 'm so sorry," Henny continued, "But some of the patrons are getting rowdy, and I – I suppose I could have called deputy Graham but you're the sheriff and – I just don't know what to do, there's some fight...If the boss was here he could handle it, but it's his night off and -"

"Just – okay, I'll be there, sit tight," Emma sighed, too sleepy to make a 'sky isn't falling' joke. Ending the call, she forced herself out of bed. After stubbing her toe on one of the legs of the furniture, she hobbled over to her dresser and pulled out the first clean shirt and jeans she saw, muttering curses under her breath as she stripped off her pajamas and got dressed. After that, she ducked into the master bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth.

Now she'd have to wake Ariadne, whether she wanted to or not. Of course, she could have called Graham and asked him to handle it; but, like Henny pointed out, she was the sheriff.

Making her way to the nursery, Emma swiped at her eyes as she passed Henry's empty room, glad for the visual reminder that her son was at Regina's and she wouldn't need to leave a note for him in case he woke up.

Once inside the nursery, Emma opened the room's closet and dug out Ariadne's baby carrier and diaper bag – there was no telling how long she'd be at the bar, especially if the dwarfs were involved – and then moved hesitantly to the side of her daughter's crib.

The four-month old was sleeping soundly, pink mouth working slightly as she dozed, seemingly undisturbed by her mother switching on the light and moving throughout the room.

"Sorry, Kiddo," Emma apologized as she lifted the child, breathing in the sweet baby smell and tucking her against her body, careful not to crush her against the sling. Ariadne began fussing her gurgling complaints as Emma left the nursery. Awkwardly, Emma fished around in the diaper bag until she found a pacifier, and stuffed it in the baby's mouth

Eventually, Emma was through the white picket fence surrounding her house and in the door of her bug, strapping Ariadne into the car seat in the back.

"We're just going to take a quick trip," Emma explained as she slid behind the wheel

Upon arriving at The Rabbit Hole, Emma buckled the baby carrier to herself, strapped her daughter in, and walked determinedly towards the bar. From inside, she could hear the expected sounds of a barroom scuffle – shouts, scraping of furniture on cheap flooring, crashing of glasses. Then sounded Grumpy's distinct, disgruntled hollering.

"I don't care, we dwarfs were here first!'"

Well, wasn't that just typical?

Stalking into the establishment, Ariadne's chubby little legs swinging against her with each step, Emma ignored the two contentious groups—who were very clearly in a fight; a fight which, thankfully, seemed to mostly consist of pushing and posturing rather than actual brawling – and headed over to the lighting control panel behind the counter.

Rounding the bend, Emma, in her haste, nearly tripped over Henny, who was cowering underneath the bar. He tried telling her something as she flew past him, but she couldn't hear what it was over the noise of the fight. Eventually reaching the switches, Emma rapidly began flicking them on and off.

Almost immediately the tumult died down, and Emma was able to get a better look at the culprits.

Grumpy, naturally, was in the center of it all, standing on a table and holding a pool cue stick.

Sleepy was rapidly blinking, fighting to stay at his most alert.

Dopey had tugged Smee's red had snugly over his own ears and -

Smee?

Suddenly Emma became aware that the Dwarfs' adversaries were none other than the former crew of the Jolly Roger: sullen, provoked, very drunk, and staring at her as though they wished she would drop dead.

The sight of their accusatory facades almost made Emma want to hide underneath the bar with Henny, but she put on her sheriff's face and called out, "What's going on here?" while looking back to the dwarfs. Under her glare, Dopey sheepishly took off Smee's hat and handed it back to the pirate.

Cecco, one of the pirates, seemed about to speak; his mustache was twitching, but he didn't open his mouth. Bill Jukes set down a dwarf – Happy, she thought—and obstinately folded his arms at her. Starkey, who had the best manners of the crew and had become, of all things, a custodian at the Storybrooke elementary school, said quietly, "Apologies, Sheriff. We were here to reminisce the – the, umm...but the dwarfs wouldn't stay out of our space, and..."

Emma knew exactly what the pirates were here to reminisce, and it put a painful little twist in her heart. "All right. Anybody hurt?"

Morgan Skylights, the youngest of the crew, pushed her way out of the middle of the group. Her jaw was clenched so tight, Emma was surprised when she spoke. "We're fine, sheriff. No need for you to be here."

"Yeah, well, the bartender didn't agree," Emma said flatly, tugging Henny out from under the counter and helping him stand. Knowing perfectly well that the sheriff's station wouldn't hold all of the offenders, she told Henny, in a voice loud enough to carry through the room, "I'm going to have them clean up, then pay for whatever damage they've caused. Then, they're going to go home. Okay?"

"Okay," Henny began. "I called Deputy Graham after I called you. He's on his way, t-"

"Home?" Morgan asked Emma, cutting him off. Pushing the bandana that had fallen onto her forehead back over her red hair, face contorted with drunken anger and sadness, she added, "We have no real home, thanks to you and your family."

Emma's shoulders stiffened, and she felt a retort on her tongue, but she just wanted to get this over with. She just wanted to go back home with her baby and try to get back to sleep, so she could face as little of this day as possible.

So she didn't have to think anymore.

On automation, Emma began to direct the cleanup. It began well; there was some grumbling and groaning, but in the end they complied, picking up chairs and righting tables. As Henny had promised, Graham arrived; slightly disheveled and sleepy, just like her, but implacably keeping the process moving and giving her his silent support. Doc even grabbed a broom and began to sweep up broken glass.

"Should have left the broom for Zelena," Emma mused, but couldn't even bring herself to smile. Not tonight.

But when Jukes handed Morgan a mop, the girl dug in her heels, kicking at the soapy bucket and whirling on Emma in fury, freckles standing out in her pale face.

"You don't care, do you?"

To Emma, the question was both confusing and expected: passing over her head, and burrowing under her skin. "What?" she asked numbly.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Morgan said, "You don't even remember? It's the reason the crew is here tonight – we're honoring the memory of the Captain. He died one year ago tonight."

Emma swallowed the whimper that rose in her throat. "I know," she thought, "I know! Of course I remember!" She'd thought about him every day since she'd seen him last. She thought about him every time she looked at Ariadne. How could she not remember?

"Morgan, don't-" Starkey began, putting a hand on the girl's shoulder, but Morgan shrugged him off, staggering a few tottering steps in Emma's direction. Graham placed a hand out between the pirate girl and Ariadne, who was still in her baby sling, and Morgan swung her head between him and Emma, condemnation burning in her eyes.

"No, I will say it! She didn't even care about Hook! Because of her he lost his identity, left his his crew – his friends behind, sold his ship to his rival, and she didn't care."

Each word made that little twist in Emma's heart wrench further, until her heart felt like a tight, heavy knot.

And then, Morgan dug in the final knife. "She used him, and then she killed him."

With the embittered statement, Morgan's voice rose until she was shouting, and suddenly Ariadne began to howl in distress, fingers curling into little fists and then opening again.

Without warning, the lights overhead started to flicker again, blinking wildly. Glasses above the bar began to rattle ominously.

"Oh, again Princess?" Morgan sneered over the baby's cries. "We're not doing anything – Or does the truth hurt?"

"That's not me," Emma responded, too alarmed to be insulted. She cast her eyes about, trying to find the source of the phenomenon, all while stroking Ariadne's arms and speaking to her soothingly, trying to calm her. "All right kid, everything's okay.

As the baby quieted, so did the room. Even as Emma's confusion increased, the lights stabilized and the glasses became stationary in their cradles, until the bar reverted to stillness.

It was Grumpy who broke the silence. "That was her!" he shouted, pointing a dramatic finger at Ariadne.

"Hey! Stop!" Emma snapped, though her mind was working furiously. Was it possible? "You're going to scare her again."

Suddenly, she really needed to leave the bar. She needed to get away from the instigating dwarfs and the pirates with warranted accusation and hate in their eyes. "Graham, I need to take care of her," she mumbled to the deputy, backtracking her way out of the bar. "I'm sorry.

"Emma," he called to her, brow wrinkling in concern, and for a moment she was afraid he'd follow her.

But he didn't.

Emma had circled around the town for twenty minutes, but Ariadne refused to sleep, whimpering and fussing intermittently. Finally, Emma knew she had no choice.

There was only one place that was guaranteed to soothe her daughter.