kind of an episode tag to 3x09? a bit? kind of? anyway, a bit of h/c for your good selves. not sure it makes sense or is in character but inspired somewhat by my own physical reaction to extreme tiredness this week.

Emma stands next to him on the deck, so silently he barely notices she's there for a second or two. The journey back to Storybrooke seems somehow longer than how they came but is infinitely more serene; their quest completed, mothers and son reunited and balance restored, things are quiet and reflective. There are no storms but the ones of an internal nature. Hook, in all honesty, has no idea about what's to come. It should bother him really; being relatively purposeless for the first time in centuries but strangely, he feels lighter than he has in a while. For now, he'll not dig his heels in and wait and just wait and see where the tide takes him. Right now it's taking him to Storybrooke and more specifically, whatever Emma wants. He'll be around until she orders him away, that much he knows.

"My lady," he greets her again because perhaps he just can't resist. The endearment sounds nice, right, on his lips. He has the feeling 'my love' would sound even better but he also knows Emma isn't ready for that yet.

"Hey," she murmurs softly, copying his stance and bracing her hands on the wood of his ship.

His hook and her right hand are only inches apart. They stand there like that in companionable silence for a full three minutes until Hook hears a giggle escape from her, high and unfamiliar. Emma looks at him and smiles so widely it looks as thought it might crack her porcelain cheeks. He smiles back without knowing the reason because recently her happiness has become one of the things he strives for. She's dragging his selflessness and sincerity out of mothballs, states of mind hidden so long in the dark they should by all accounts feel unfamiliar to him but they don't, not around her. He wants to be better (a hero) for her and everybody knows it. David, bloody Pan and even Emma herself.

"We did it," she says, her voice small but awed. "We got him back."

"Aye," he confirms. "We did."

Her beaming smile is blindingly beautiful for a few more precious seconds before it twists and contorts in front of his eyes, turning feral and almost distraught. Something is wrong, he recognises, very wrong. Emma's fingers turn to claws on the wood and she heaves out short, laboured breaths. Hook closes the gap between them instantly. He aches to console her of whatever anguish plagues her now, but he's not sure what she would find comforting or what would cause those walls of hers to keep him out like they have all along.

"Tell me what's wrong," he implores urgently, his hand pushing away a lock of hair from her face unthinkingly.

"I'm- I'm fi-" She tries to form the words 'I'm fine' around brittle gasps of breath. It would be unconvincing at best, even if she could get the words out.

Hook gently pulls her chin around to face him, looking into her glassy eyes. "You don't have to hide from me, Emma," he tells her softly, lacing every word with as much sincerity as he can muster. The last thing he said that held so much truth was when he told her he'd win her heart without trickery, and before that it was Echo Cave.

And thankfully this seems to convince her. He watches the energy and will to put up a façade leave her all at once. "I'm so tired," she cries almost inaudibly.

Hook lets her collapse into him, her head resting in the crook of his neck, and shifts them so he's taking as much of their collective weight as he can. It makes so much sense to him now it actually pains him that he didn't see it earlier, help her earlier. Each day in the gruelling forests of Neverland was so hyper-focussed on Henry that she carefully suppressed any weakness and any exhaustion that threatened to distract her. But Henry is safe now, and it's not only catching up to her but dragging her down like stones in her pockets.

"It's okay to be tired, love," he says gently, stroking the back of her head tenderly. "It happens to the best of us. And you are the best of us, Emma, truly. You just need to rest."

Her breaths slow to anxious little puffs against his neck. "Don't let them see me like this," she pleads. He isn't sure who they are specifically but he can have a pretty good guess. Her parents mainly, perhaps Bae. It says something that she trusts him enough to let him see her when she's this fragile but Hook puts that thought away for another day.

He thinks for a minute. "Walk down the stairs and into the cabin. I'll be right behind you, I promise."

Emma nods and removes herself from his arms uncertainly. She sways a little as she walks, probably unnoticeable to someone not looking for it, and takes the stairs slowly. He can't help her without arousing suspicion but his hand remains at her elbow in case she needs it. David gives him a look from where he's sitting with Mary Margaret when he and Emma enter the cabin together; Hook can imagine David thinks he's about to have his wicked way with her. He'd be amused if Emma didn't need him. As soon as they leave the eye line of those on the top deck, he winds his hook arm around her waist carefully and holds her other arm with his hand. Emma leans on him heavily as he leads her to the first mate's cabin, next to the Captain's Quarters—second best on the ship, since Henry is occupying the best. This used to be his room when Liam captained the Jewel of the Realm, and it was Smee's not long after that.

Emma struggles with her boots and almost starts crying out of frustration at not being able to accomplish such a simple task in her exhaustion. Hook kneels on the floorsilently and unzips them for her, placing them neatly next to the bed. Emma falls against the pillow, her eyes heavy and lidded, and lets Hook pull the blankets up around her.

"Go to sleep, Swan," he orders in a whisper. "You did it. You got him back."