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Hades twists the hook deeper into her shoulder, blood already running down her white sweater as she gasps, her face a mask of pain. He can’t move, can’t help her, his restraints cutting into his wrists and ankles, and it just feels so wrong. He can’t even shout at her tormenter, his throat rendered hoarse long ago from hours screaming at the ruler of this realm.
“Well,” Hades says with a grin as he turns to face Killian. His eyes glitter brightly in the dim light of the cell, the cell Killian knows only too well from his own time spent tied to that very wall. “It seems your girlfriend is just as stubborn as you were.”
Killian only grunts, focusing on Emma instead of the taunts he thought he could ignore. Her eyes are clouded with agony, her head limp on her chest as she gasps for breath.
“You do remember how I deal with those who don’t give me what I want, don’t you?” the god continues with a grin.
No, Killian thinks frantically. No!
Without another word, Hades turns back to Emma and drives the hook deep into her chest.
“NO!”
He shot straight up in bed, gasping for breath as she had just moments before. A dream, he forced himself to remember. It was only a dream.
He shook violently, his fingers trembling as they ran across his face, wiping away the sweat and tears that collected on his cheeks. His whole body shivered as he fought for control, for calm, for forgetting.
“Killian?” she murmured sleepily, her hand coming to rest on his back. He managed not to flinch away from her touch, but only just. “You okay?”
He couldn’t answer, certain his voice would be as hoarse as it was in his dream. A dream. Just a dream.
Instead, he shook his head. He heard her move to sit up, and he hated that he was still waking her from her much-needed rest, hated his weakness. Her hands reached for his face, gently, slowly, and his racing heart nearly broke with the tenderness of her movements, as if she was afraid he’d break in her grasp.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly between the fingers that cradle his cheeks, her eyes wide despite her exhaustion. “You’re with me, you’re home.”
Home.
He swallowed hard to hold back the sob that threatened from somewhere deep in his chest, and managed to nod once.
“Emma,” he whispered. “It was you, he had you, he…” He broke off, unable to continue, his throat too tight. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the images away, jaw clenching under her palms.
“I’m here, Killian,” she murmured softly. “I’m right here.”
He nodded again and opened his eyes, taking in the sight of her worried expression, worried for him, his nightmares interrupting yet another of her nights.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, “for waking you, for…” Another lump blocking his speech, another failed sentence.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, smiling sadly. “I’m here for you, always. You want to go outside for a bit?”
She dropped her hands to his shoulders, peering at him carefully. Lately, he’d taken to sitting on the steps of their porch with her tucked around him, the stillness of the night and the sound of the ocean calming even the worst of his dreams, but it was an imperfect solution, one he hoped to abandon completely as winter drew nearer.
“No,” he managed. “Can we just… stay here tonight?”
“Of course.”
He let her guide him back to the pillows, her hands never far from reach as she pulled the blankets up around him. She settled on his chest, ear to his heart as she’d done so many nights before, her skin cool against his own, arm draped across him. He lifted his hand to stroke her arm, and slowly the gentle touches in the dark soothed away the pain of his worst fears imagined.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered against his chest, her breath puffing softly on his skin, and it just felt so right.
Just like home.