The rain pounded on the roof, a deafening sound against the ship's wooden walls. The Jolly Roger may have been made from enchanted wood, but she was no match for the overwhelming power of a storm.

Killian was used to weathering storms. He felt as if he had been in the eye of one infinite storm his entire life. The day his father abandoned him, the sun was bright in the sky and not a cloud could be seen. It was a perfect day to embark on a journey to a new life. But inside, Killian's storm had just begun to brew, the clouds rolling in and the rain just beginning to fall. The fateful day that Milah was taken from him, so suddenly, along with his hand, the steady fall of rain became sheets of water surrounding him, overwhelming him as the Jolly Roger sank through the portal to Neverland…a place he thought that he could escape. Find smoother waters. Where the lost never had to be found. But even the land of lost souls such as his did not provide solace. The day that Baelfire looked at him with such hate in his eyes, accusing him of being just like the man he had sworn revenge upon, the man who had killed his love, a squall formed and with it, swirling winds that filled him with the pain of loss yet again. Even the two moments when Killian finally enacted revenge on his foe, shooting the woman Rumplestiltskin loved and stabbing him in the heart with the hook that he had cursed Killian with, the storm did not cease. His heart was as empty as it had been the day that his father had abandoned him to a life alone.

Yes, he was used to weathering storms. This particular storm was of no importance, and yet he could feel the wind surging around him from the safety of his sleeping quarters. He could taste the salt brought by the rain and the raging waves of the sea. He could see only darkness. Pure, black, all-encompassing darkness. In the night. In the clouds. In the world itself. His life had been a dark storm, and he had been blindly making his way through the darkness, ever-searching for a light. A reprieve.

Suddenly, he stood up from his bed and made for the door, unsure of why he felt this sudden magnetic pull drawing him out into the storm. He climbed the stairs slowly, preparing himself for the pouring rain, the gusting wind, and the crushing darkness. But the moment that he pushed open the door leading up to the deck, he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Though it was still the middle of the night, the sky was no longer a black expanse but had transformed into a deep blue. The clouds were gone, the rain no longer fell, and the sea was calm. The only wind still blowing was a gentle whisper compared to the gusts that he often encountered. It was just enough to keep the Jolly moving.

The world was silent for the first time in his life. Not even the wood beneath his feet let out a creak as he took cautious step after cautious step around the deck, searching for whatever could possibly be the source of this sudden turning of the tides. This unexpected yet entirely welcome sense of peace that filled his entire being. Whatever magic was causing this, Killian Jones was grateful. Grateful for the chance to breathe. Grateful for the silence in a world that for so long had been a cacophony of chaos. Grateful for the storm that allowed him to appreciate the moment that it all stopped. If only he knew why.

"Storm keep you up, too?" a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. He spun around. "You never mentioned the strange weather here. I got up to check it out, but as soon as I opened the door, it stopped, and standing out here, you'd think it never happened."

"You're too right, Love. It's like it never happened," he responded, letting out a long-awaited sigh of relief. All at once, looking at her, he knew exactly what had stopped the storm.