The name causes Emma’s eyes to stop dead on the half-empty ketchup bottle in the fridge. For a moment, she just stays frozen there, processing, and then she straightens, leaving the door hanging open as she turns to gaze behind her. Before she even sees him, she knows exactly who to expect. Knows that voice, and even the tone in it.

And still, when she sees him, her chest tightens.

“Hook?” She doesn’t miss another beat, letting her reply break the spell of tension between them. Her hand shoves the fridge door shut in one fluid movement while she turns towards him and paces to the edge of the kitchen, close enough for a reasonable talking distance. “What the hell are you doing here?” The portal. He hadn’t followed her through, had he? The edge of panic in the way her eyes search his face makes it clear she has her suspicions about just that.