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Emma woke abruptly.
She blinked groggily; it certainly wasn't even close to morning yet. Darkness still hung in the room, the only light coming from the moonlight that spilled through where the blinds weren't drawn over the window.
A gasp made Emma tense, waking up even more.
Emma turned to see Killian still asleep beside her, his face pulled into a grimace. He was panting, distressed breaths slipping through clenched teeth, his entire body rigid.
Emma and Killian's relationship was still new; they've only been spending nights together in Killian's room at Granny's for a few weeks now. But even in those few nights, Emma had noticed his nightmares.
She was no stranger to them herself. Though, after a nearly three-hundred-year-long life, most of which were trapped in Neverland, she could only imagine what his were about.
His nightmares had only woken her a few times, and he'd wake from them fairly quickly at a whisper of his name or the touch of her fingers on his cheek. When he'd see Emma's concerned gaze, a wordless inquiry, he'd just kiss her cheek, apologize for waking her and tell her to go back to sleep, ensuring that he was fine. Also not a stranger to keeping vulnerability to herself, Emma let it go each time, allowing him to pull her back into his arms, even if she noticed that he always held her just a little tighter after a nightmare. One day, they'll both share their secrets with one another. They were both patient people.
But tonight, this nightmare… was different.
There was a touch of panic to him that wasn't present for other of his nightmares.
Sitting up, her heart beating a little faster at his distress, Emma asked hesitantly, "Killian?"
He gasped again, his body jerking a little like he was in some sort of struggle.
"Killian?" she asked again, louder.
Normally that had been enough to rouse him.
He didn't wake, and he gasped again, this time with a touch of fear, so raw, and like nothing she's heard from him before. Whatever he was seeing in his dreams was terrifying him.
And still, he was trying to practically flatten himself against the pillows, in an attempt to escape an invisible foe.
Yet, what Emma didn't understand in the slightest, was that his hand was practically behind his back.
"Killian, wake up," tried Emma again. When the nightmare still held him in its clutches, she reached for his hand, taking it gently in hers. "Killian—"
But her words froze in her throat as Killian ripped his hand out of hers like she'd burned him, and he gasped, "Not that. Please—"
Emma blinked in shock.
She felt a horrible feeling creep around her heart and begin to squeeze.
Because she realized he'd purposefully had his hand behind his back, and she could clearly see now that Killian was trying to hide it.
And she suddenly knew exactly what he was dreaming.
Shaking herself out of it, Emma touched his shoulder. "Killian!" He gasped again, and she shook him. "Killian, it's okay, wake up!"
At the shake, his eyes shot open.
He startled badly, his head flinching away like he expected to be hit. He breathed hard, blinking fast as if to clear his vision, his eyes settling unsteadily on Emma.
But hers were still on his hand, which was still partly behind his back.
"Not that."
Emma felt numb.
She'd never heard Killian sound so scared in her life.
Killian blinked, looking still confused and wary, like he was still reeling from the nightmare he'd suffered.
It was when his gaze shot to his hand, and he looked visibly relieved, that Emma felt her heart snap in half.
Killian dragged his eyes back up to Emma. He was still a little out of breath. Not quite meeting her eyes, he said, "Sorry if I woke you, love."
Emma slowly reached for his hand again. He didn't see her, so when her fingers touched his, he startled, flinching away from her. Emma pulled her own hand back, tears stinging her eyes. Half a second later, Killian realized it had only been her, and he winced. "I…"
"You dream of someone taking it?"
Emma's words were quiet and broken.
Killian stiffened.
But the touch of vulnerability, of fear, shining in his eyes nearly shattered Emma then and there.
Killian shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he breathed out. He stared at his hand. "On... occasion," he said quietly, the words stunted, like he was carving them out of stone. "When I'm reminded it's a… possibility," he said even quieter.
Reminded?
When was he…?
It only took a few seconds for her to realize the exact reminder that spurred the nightmare on.
Last night.
They were in the library.
She, Killian, her parents, Henry, Regina and Belle. With Gold banished, Belle had thrown herself into a project they could solve: Regina was growing increasingly more unpleasant after Robin left for New York, and the group of them were trying to help her learn more about the author, and what Emma knew she and Henry called "Operation Mongoose."
Killian had been seated between Emma and Regina at the table that was towering with books they were all rifling through. Regina had brought the page of her and Robin that had appeared to the thief, and had it open between herself and Killian in case they could link something about it to an answer about where it came from.
Regina huffed in irritation when she reached the end of an unhelpful book, making almost everyone look up when she slammed shut the book and threw it on top of the pile. The shift of books made her page with Robin fall off the table.
Killian reacted instinctively. It fell on his left side, so he dropped his own book and grabbed the page smoothly between the palm of his hand and the flat side of his hook before it could hit the floor. He smiled a little at his victory, and moved to put it back on the table.
"Careful with that!" snapped Regina, taking the page from him, inspecting it with careful eyes as if looking for a rip or a hole. She glared at Killian, muttering, "Rip this, and you're leaving here with two hooks."
Emma and the rest had gone back to looking for more answers.
Killian had stilled beside her.
He was quiet for the rest of the night.
Emma stared at him, as he carefully avoided her gaze, and wondered how the hell she hadn't thought his silence last night was more than I'm just fatigued, love.
"Regina," said Emma quietly.
Killian tensed a little.
Emma felt her eyes burn hotter. "Does it…" She tried again. "Does it happen every time someone…?" She didn't finish, but she didn't have to.
"Not always," he said eventually.
"Killian…" she whispered brokenly.
He gave her that smile of his, the quick one that never reaches his eyes, and he managed to meet her gaze. "Don't worry about it, love. It's nothing. Go back to sleep," he whispered.
Only, Emma could hear the slight pleading in his words.
But her mind was reeling.
Every time they've said something.
And then—
Emma froze, feeling like the breath was knocked from her lungs.
In New York, before she remembered who he was—
"Call me 'love' one more time and you lose the other hand."
God knew how many other times she'd used the words so carelessly.
Tears blurred her eyes. "Did you—" Her throat closed a little. "When I've said…?"
Killian looked like he was in pain. "Emma—"
"Just tell me," she whispered.
He winced. Breathed out. "I… Emma, it doesn't matter."
He had.
Because of her.
Her careless words, and he'd woken somewhere alone in a cold sweat.
"Killian, I'm so sorry," she whispered, a tear falling down her cheek.
"Swan—" he began, surprised to see her so upset.
"I had no idea it—" began Emma, but she stopped herself. "God, I'm a horrible person. We all are," she whispered. Guilt and anger with herself building, she whispered painfully, "Can you forgive me?"
"Emma," said Killian, sitting up, letting out a breath. "You are the furthest thing, love. There's nothing to forgive."
"But—"
"I know you and your family mean no harm," he said, with that fake flick of a smile. If a lie could be personified in an expression, that was it. "Please don't worry about it, love. I've… had those nightmares for decades." He took an unsteady breath, and touched the empty brace at the end of his left arm. He was quiet for a long moment, like he wasn't sure he wanted to say something, but at the same time, did. "I—It's… I've made do with one," he said slowly, words stunted and raw, like they've never touched the air before. "But I…" He hesitated, words seeming to fight him. "I'm not sure I could handle... if…" He turned his gaze to his right hand, opening and closing his fingers. He breathed out.
Emma felt pain clench her chest.
Slowly, delicately, Emma reached over and took his hand in both of hers.
He flinched the slightest bit, but he didn't pull his hand away.
She met his eyes.
Emma had never met Killian Jones before he became Captain Hook, but right there in those eyes was the impressionable, lost boy he'd once been, nothing but fear and brokenness in those blue eyes. Not to mention how, as she and he grew closer, she could see the daily challenge he's had to live with being one-handed. How hard he worked to hide any time he struggled with something, even something as simple as using utensils to eat a meal. How he carefully made sure to sit or walk on her left side. And nearly all his life, being mocked, threatened, with losing the only hand he had left, by enemies and even by people who call themselves his friends, no less—
Sick. She felt absolutely sick.
And the worst part, was that she'd been one of them.
She couldn't take back the careless words.
But she could do something, in the only way she could think to atone for her mistakes.
And maybe, prevent it from ever causing him pain again.
Emma breathed out, grateful she'd asked Regina how she had done it once in the past.
Emma held his hand between both hers, shutting her eyes, concentrating on the warmth of her magic in her chest. Emma focused on remembering what Regina had told her and felt the warmth spread from her fingertips to Killian's. She opened her eyes. Killian's eyes widened a little and he gasped, feeling the magic envelope his hand and wrist in a glow of white light before settling back into his skin, leaving it looking untouched once more.
Emma sat back with a smile, brushing her thumb softly over the back of his hand, lifting her eyes to his confused gaze. Answering his unasked question, Emma said, "A protection spell." She smiled softly. "Regina told me how she protected Henry's heart after Pan took it so that no one could ever take his heart again." Even more warmth in her smile, she said, "Now, no one can ever take your hand."
Killian stared at her. Looked to his hand, and back to her. For a moment, he looked absolutely speechless. Something shone in his eyes, that only moments ago had been nothing but haunted. His eyes held something so touched, like he'd just been given the greatest gift in the world.
He lifted his hand from hers, only to cup her cheek with it, brushing his own thumb over her skin. He gently tugged her toward him, and she let him pull her to him. He kissed her, soft and sweet. His forehead to hers, his voice husky with emotion, he whispered, "Thank you, Emma."
Emma smiled, emotion burning behind her own eyes.
They both laid back down, Emma tucked in his arms, their fingers intertwined.
And Killian smiled, feeling an ancient fear sated, washing relief through him so strongly that tears stung his eyes.
He held her to him, falling asleep to the scent of her, dreaming for the first time of someone very specific taking his hand.
Only this time, it was in matrimony.
He smiled.
And looked forward to the day that dream became reality.