Disclaimer: Just playing, will put everything back when finished.
He still dreams of that day, one of the best and worst days of his life.
But when he dreams it's more horrifying than any nightmare that sleeping curse can conjure. Because in his dreams his sword moves a second too slow or too fast, and her first day becomes her last. He fails her, fails to protect her, and they all pay the price.
He doesn't like to think about how that particular vision sprung up when Emma helped Regina take on the curse's failsafe, but it did, and his grasp on the railing of Hook's ship makes the wood squeak.
He's her father, her "Dad", and he'd been helpless, only able to hold her and the rest of his family close as they faced their end, faced leaving Henry behind. He never wants to feel that way again, and he vows once they rescue his grandson he will spend the rest of his days making sure he never does.
"If you break off a piece of our ride I'm not sure Hook will be so willing to get us to Neverland," the very person his thoughts are focused on points out, Emma walking up to stand beside him, gesturing at his white knuckled grip.
"If he has a problem I'll happily shove said piece up his-"
"Whoa! Forget I said anything," She leans back, hands raised in surrender. He's been getting to know her better, however, and he can see the laughter in her eyes. He also does his best not to be too proud that he put that laughter there, but it's tough.
"Go figure," she sighs, an amused huff escaping her lips as she resumes her place at the railing, which he's since given up trying to break.
"Figure what?" He tilts his head, curious.
"Gold is right, I do have your tact."
It's his turn to laugh, but after he does he finds her searching his face.
"Emma?"
"Sorry," she shakes her head, "It's nothing."
Maybe circumstances have made him bolder, maybe he just wants her to know she can open up to him like she does with Snow, but now he pushes where once he held back.
"Emma, tell me."
It's her turn to grip the railing too tight, and he can see her deciding if she should share her thoughts, before she sets her shoulders back and faces him.
The tears in her eyes floor him almost as much as the words that follow.
"When I finally believed, I saw you and- you and Mom. I saw you fight for me, die for me. And back in the mine, when we thought that was it, all I could think about was how ever since the curse broke you haven't stopped fighting. It made me want to fight, to do anything besides stand there and wait for the end. What I'm trying to say is, I may have your tact, but you're more of a savior than I'll ever be and-"
He doesn't need to hear any more, all he needs is to hug his little girl close, and he does, and she hugs him just as tight.
She believed in herself because he inspired her to believe. She didn't see him as helpless; in her eyes he's more of a hero, a prince, than he'd ever been in the past, and the feeling banishes every memory of his tormented dreams. But, there's still something he needs to say, and he pulls back, his gaze catching her's.
"You might never think of yourself as a savior, Emma, but you save me every day. Remember that."
She nods, an embarrassed laugh escaping her lips as she wipes at the tears that've gotten loose.
He only smiles, however, and wraps an arm around her shoulders.
"C'mon kiddo, let's go make sure your mother hasn't found any trouble."
"We've been gone ten minutes, how much trouble could she possibly be in?"
"Emma, when is our family not neck-deep in some sort of trouble?"
"Point taken, let's go."