AN: Two warnings. This chapter contains semi-minor sexual assault. Also, if you're a fan of Hook or captainswan, you won't like what's about to happen, although if you're into CS idk what you're doing reading this anyway! But you do you! Enjoy:)

Emma stalks with purpose down the sidewalk, hair whipping into her face from the wind, hands fisted firmly at her sides. She almost laughs out loud when she thinks of her mother spilling her secret within one night--hell, she can't even be surprised. Did Regina not carry a grudge for half a lifetime over something like this? Okay, yeah, Regina's case involved the death of a loved one and curses and destruction, but Emma is feeling extremely pissed, and knows how fast word spreads in this stupid town. News like this is undoubtedly the juiciest gossip known to the quiet place for years on end, and Emma just knows that by now her and Regina's scandal is probably in the goddamn newspaper. She turns a corner and stops in an alleyway to try to calm herself down. She's so angry that knows she definitely needs to be grounded before encountering anyone. She paces up and down the seemingly darker corner though it was nearly midday, staring at her boots slapping the pavement paying no mind to anything around her. That's why when she slams face-first into a muscular torso covered in leather, she just barely stops herself in time from yelping in surprise. She takes a stumbling step backwards, and stares up into Hook's face.

She tries to calm her heart from the fright, knowing it wasn't too big of a deal, but something about his expression unnerves her. His jaw is set, a determined but hungry gleam in his eyes, and the very corner of his mouth is twitching upwards into a smirk.

"Sorry 'bout that, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.." She begins, taking another step back, and then another quickly when she sees him advance with her. "I'll just be--" she begins, turning around swiftly and power-walking towards the sidewalk again, when she feels a strong hand covered in large rings clamp down on her forearm painfully. Her sense of panic sets in, as she turns back around, trying and failing to yank her arm out of his grip. "Hey, stop, what the hell?!"

He pulls her to him, and puts his hook on her shoulder. The sharp tip easily pokes through her thin shirt and digs into her skin. "Sorry, Love, I just couldn't help hearing what happened between you and the mayor," he says throatily, and when her eyes widen and she tries again to get away he simply tuts and shakes his head. "I've known you liked her for years, and I was just waiting for something like this to happen so I could have you." He whispers the last part, and forces her backwards against a wall.

Emma's really panicking now, mind clouding with terrible, haunting memories of times she was raped by people with messed up relationships with her, ranging from foster dads to gang members. She thrashes violently to get away, to run, to hide, but between her terror and his strength, she stands no chance. "No," she gasps, shaking wildly to his touch.

"No woman could love you the way I will," he says, his good hand holding her wrists above her head against the bricks, and his hook gliding across her cheek. "You need a man who can--"

"No, no, no, no," Emma sobs, cutting him off. She tries once more to free herself, but only results in slamming herself heavily against the wall, partially knocking the wind out of her. Hook takes the opportunity and forces his lips up against hers, sliding his tongue down her throat, and shoves his knee into her crotch. Emma's thrashing again, this time more than before, but combined with her wall slam and someone blocking her airway against her will, she finds she has very little strength. Tears stream down her cheeks, her body shaking faster and faster, and with her remaining sense, she knows she's about to have a severe panic attack. Her mind goes white and she doesn't hear footsteps running down the alleyway. She doesn't hear a loud yell interrupting her attacker. But she can feel Hook being forcibly lifted off of her, and she opens tear-filled eyes to see something she never thought she would.

Henry's there, and he's spun around the former pirate to face him, holding him firmly by the collar of his jacket. "Hey, man, the HELL do you think you're doing?!" He yells, shaking him hard, his expression the angriest Emma has literally ever seen it. His eyes are widened, even a little crazed, jaw clenched and hair wild. He pulls a fist back, and before Emma knows what's happening, Henry's given Hook a nasty broken nose. Hook stumbles back several paces from the impact, but stands his ground. He swings a dazed fist at Henry, who blocks it and punches Hook much harder, sending the pirate flying backwards, smashing him into the very wall he had Emma up against moments before. Henry advances on him, picking up the bleeding man from his collar again.

"You're sick! You're fucking sick! You have no right! If you hurt Emma, touch Emma, or even look at her again, I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Henry shrieks, using a tone that's a stranger to Emma, one that terrifies her. She can't believe that bloodthirsty threat had just come from her son, and she picks herself up off the ground to rush over to him. She grabs him from behind, stopping him from giving her attacker another blow.

"Henry, stop!" She says in alarm, and he freezes. He stands, turns around, and pulls Emma into a huge, strong hug.

"Ma, oh my god, oh my god," he mumbles, placing his hand over the back of her head. "I was so scared, are you okay?!" He demands, pulling back and searching her face anxiously.

"I...am thanks to you, but I think I should ask you the same question," she says hesitantly, staring up at vivid green eyes that lost their fire the moment they were turned on his mother.

"I--" he begins, looking at his already bruising knuckles covered in blood. Then he glances behind Emma, and goes rigid.

"What?" She asks, heart picking up its pounding once more. Her head feels as though it might explode, and all she wants to do is go home and cry for the rest of the week.

Instead of acknowledging her, he unhands her, and curses. "Shit." He steps around the blonde, who turns as well, watching as he picks up a black purse that both know belongs to Regina.

They're both silent for a minute, staring at the object with a sense of doom. Emma says it first. "She was here?!"

"My god," Henry groans, sliding a hand down the side of his face, running his thumb across the leather strap.

Emma shakes her mussed hair out her face and starts towards towards the sidewalk, but Henry places a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Ma, what are you doing?"

"Going after her." Emma says with wide eyes, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, as if she can't imagine fixing the situation any differently, and wondering why Henry wouldn't be thinking the same.

"No, stop. We don't even know what she saw, if she even saw anything. What if she just dropped her purse on her way to work? She takes this route to the office," he tries, pleading with his eyes for her to listen to him.

"What? That doesn't sound like her. She'd never drop something and not realize it." She says, sounding even a little offended in her defense of the mayor.

He looks at Emma and sighs. "You're right, it doesn't." He gives her a quick peck on the cheek to try and make up for his earlier violent behavior that scared even himself. "I'm sorry, but I have to go after her. Please just go home, okay? Take care of yourself. I'll check on you later." He says hurriedly, and before she can argue, he's off and running after her.

Emma sinks to the ground on wobbly legs, trying to soak in all that just happened. Her mind clouds with Regina, wondering what she saw, praying she hadn't seen anything. She's not okay, not at all, and knows that she has to get home before she loses control. But when she works up enough courage to look at Hook, she calls the hospital, knowing that Henry's probably broken a few of his bones.

---

For some reason, there's a popular stereotype that a man would rather die rather to be seen carrying a women's purse, for God forbid that someone should see him with a so-called feminine accessory. But, as Henry's clutching that very thing while running after his mother, that's the last thing on his mind. He makes it to her office in record time, and takes the stairs two at a time after being let in by her assistant. He barges in her door without knocking, and when he looks inside, he finally allows himself to breathe.

His mother is sitting prim and proper in her office chair, legs crossed, and tapping a pen rhythmically against her desk as she concentrates on a form. She looks up collected and calm when she hears him burst in, and smiles. "Hello, Henry."

If this had been ten years ago, this would be normal. If she had been using her low mayoral voice and fake politician smile back when he was ten, he would have thought nothing of it. But this, this is weird. He tries to play it off, and holds the purse an arm's length away. "Saw your purse on the sidewalk," he says through gasping breaths as a result of his crazy run.

She looks surprised, making Henry exceedingly suspicious. How would she have not noticed? Not when she was walking, not even when she reached her office? This is nothing like his perfect put-together mom. He takes a couple steps forward and drops it on the desk in front of him, then looks at her, expecting her to speak.

She seems to shake herself of her trance, and collects the strap of the bag of leather into her fingers. "Thank you. I must not have noticed," she says a little absently.

"I guess not," he replies carefully, trying to search her face without her noticing; something about this story is undoubtedly off. She raises her eyes from her dainty hands to his, that he's left resting on the table. He realizes a moment too late that his are covered in blood, but still quickly removes them and stashes them in his pockets even after the damage is done.

"Henry..what happened?" She asks softly, sounding more like her normal self now.

"I was just worried about you cause I saw your purse so I ran here....I kinda tripped up the stairs," he says with a snort of laughter, hoping it will make the story more plausible.

"So your hands got bloody because you tripped." She confirms, raising a sleek eyebrow in challenge.

"I braced my fall."

"I see," she says in a voice laced with skepticism. She blinks her eyes back down to her papers, and Henry clears his throat.

"So uh....everything's okay then?" He asks, blowing air out of his cheeks and shifting his own eyes around the impeccable office. He winces, squeezing his eyes shut when he realizes how suspicious that sounded, and opens one to see her glance back up.

"I don't see why not, dear," she says in a tone that is just a shade towards passive but entirely mayoral. He knows something is off, but knows enough not to stick around.

"Right. Er, I'll just leave you to it then," he stammers, clapping his hands in front of him before twirling around and leaving. He blows out after shutting the door, running a hand through messy waves. He leans against a wall and sends Emma a text.

She didn't see anything, I don't think. I'm on my way.

He waits a minute, then his phone pings, notifying him that she'd texted back.

Are you sure she didn't see? Gina wouldn't just leave her purse there.

Then, there's a follow-up seconds after.

Regina*. Sorry

Henry stares sadly at the correction. She shouldn't have to do that, and he's still wrapping his head around how much had changed in the past couple of days. He re-reads her previous message and sighs, wondering how to go about explaining his encounter.

Well, something's off with her but I can't tell what it is. Probably not what you wanna hear, but maybe she's just upset over everything that went down.

It takes a couple extra minutes for Emma to reply to that one, and Henry decides to leave the building and start for Emma's apartment. Maybe he shouldn't have said that, but it was the truth. Maybe they both needed to stop reading so much into the left purse, it was entirely plausible she hadn't seen anything that went down in the alleyway. He sniffs to clear his nose and inspects his bruised knuckles closely, hoping she hadn't seen what he did to Hook. Then, his phone vibrates in his hand.

I'm not at home yet. Wait a little before you come, or you can just let yourself in and wait for me.

Henry frowns at the message, and types quickly to reply.

Why, where are you?

The hospital

Henry's blood turns to ice as he reads the message that had come right after his own. Then he reads it again, then again, head spinning. Immediately, he calls her.

"Kid--" she picks up, but Henry cuts her off.

"Ma, what did he do to you?" He practically yells, legs moving faster and faster in the direction to the hospital.

Emma sighs through the crackling phone. "Relax, I'm not here for me. It's Killian."

Henry stops short in the middle of Main Street and feels his heart drop down a flight of stairs. "What," he says quietly, not exactly asking her to repeat it, as he wasn't sure he could hear the sentence again, but asking for clarification all the same. When she doesn't reply right away, he swallows hard before continuing. "What did I do to him?" He asks hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer. He hadn't exactly been proud of what he did to Hook, well besides the fact that he'd taken down a pirate without hardly any effort, but he knows that he had entirely lost control. When he'd walked down that particular sidewalk, happening to glance down the alleyway, and saw that dirty goddamn pirate seconds away from raping his mother, his vision grew red.

"No, no nothing life threatening. He's fine. Just a broken nose and a concussion. Ribs are maybe a little bruised. Nothing Whale can't handle," she says in a tone halfway soothing and frank.

Henry lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in. "Oh. God knows he got what was coming to him," he says, more cockily than he meant to, but exactly how he thought of the situation.

Emma lets out a little snort; she was trying to be stern with him but can't help agreeing. Also, who knew how far Hook was planning to go? Henry saved her, and she's undoubtedly thankful for that. "Alright, Kid. See you at home."

---

As soon as her son flees the room, Regina's entire charade crumbles. She sets her forgotten purse on the ground beside her chair, crumples the papers she'd been pretending to go over, and slumps forward into her desk, head in her hands. She couldn't believe what she'd just witnessed; it was something so terrible and such a horrible image burned into her brain that nothing seemed right anymore and she couldn't even begin to go about her day the way she normally would. She glances at her black purse on the ground, one of her favorites in fact, and realizes that she'd probably dropped it when she'd seen it.

Seen them.

She knows exactly what had gone down on the vacation, one that seemed so long ago even though it was just a few days. She knows that she had been the one to freak out over her and Emma Swan sleeping together. But everything after that had spiraled out of control, so much so that Regina can't safely say that this entire mess is her fault anymore. She knows that she had told the blonde to never mention their night together again, but even so, she had really thought it had meant something to Emma. After all, it had affected the brunette so desperately, so much that she'd had to call it off hours after it happened, before she and Emma even had a chance to begin a relationship, so she'd only thought that somehow Emma cared.

After all, what about the confession Regina had heard Emma say so clearly that night after the both of them were utterly spent? The sentence that Regina recalls so perfectly, one that had sent this entire mess out of control? "God, I love you."

Then what now? Is this how Emma-goddamn-Swan treated her love of people? By making out with someone else days after her confession?

Because that was exactly what Regina had seen. After happening to glance down the alleyway that she passed on her way to work every morning, she had seen Emma pushed up against a wall, kissing that dirty pirate fiercely, as though her life depended on it. Regina imagines her purse had slipped through her fingers just then, and she had walked away numbly, seeing all that she had to. Whatever had happened with Emma was gone now. Any sort of chance, any sort of feeling harbored with the blonde had to leave her this day, this very minute.

Regina had previously thought that nothing could make this situation worse. She'd never imagined that seeing Emma kiss someone other than her would cause her entire world to crumble beneath her feet.

AN: I hope you enjoyed! I'm on a roll with writing! Tell me what you thought of this crazy chapter! ;)