Hello, dear readers! This is a one-shot fic based on the song 'Dreaming with a Broken Heart' by John Mayer. Go listen to that song and try to tell me it doesn't bring you Captain Swan feels! This one-shot was written for the beautiful Carmina (gavioticaonthejollyroger), whom I was lucky enough to get as my CS Secret Valentine over on Tumblr.
Nothing saucy in this one, for once! Just a boat-load of angst! Enjoy. Oh, and reviews feed my soul, just so you know.
I don't own any of the characters. If I did, I'd be off having my own fun with Hook instead of writing fanfic.
Dreaming With A Broken Heart
It had been six months; six long months since Pan's curse destroyed Storybrooke and Regina's counter-curse gave Emma and Henry their new lives with absolutely no memory of their family and friends.
Killian Jones had made a promise to her that he had no choice but to keep. There's not a day that'll go by I won't think of you. He had no choice, because his mind would drift to her of its own volition.
His dreams were full of her every single night. The way her smile rarely reached her eyes but when it did, Gods, he swore it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever witnessed. The way her laugh was infectious and he could never fight it, nor did he ever want to. The way her golden hair fell in soft waves down her back and made his fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and let the strands slip through his fingers like silk. And the scent of her hair, peaches and raspberries with a little hint of lavender, always came back to him when he dreamed of her.
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to awake in the middle of the night, heart pounding in his ears, sheets damp with sweat and clinging to him as his bare chest heaved while he tried to catch his breath. His dreams could be so vivid and cruel. He could taste her kiss lingering on his lips, the ghost of her that would never really be gone.
And tonight, her presence was more real than his heart could handle. He was sat bolt upright in his bed, fingers drifting over his lips and his eyes straining into the blackness. That moment between sleep and wake, where his dreams still hung heavy in the air, he swore she was there in the Captain's quarters, her slight frame hidden just beyond the shadows. He could feel the sad smile and crying eyes that had been his very last memory of her before she was gone.
Throwing off the bedcover, he pressed his feet flat against the cold wood, the chill running through him caused by more than just the night air.
"Emma…"
He whispered softly, breaking the silent stillness with her name, somewhere between a prayer and a promise. The ship creaked around him, the wood shifting and sighing, the lull of the water rocking it gently. Usually, the gentle rhythm of the boat dancing against the current, fighting against the ties that held it firmly to the dock, was somewhat of a comfort to Killian, but not since she'd left.
In fact, ever since he'd watched her drive away in that strange little vessel she captained, the once-peaceful sounds of his ship were more akin to pleas and wails of resistance. It was as though the Jolly Roger was tugging away from the dock, desperate to sail away and begin the search for his lost love. And he wanted nothing more than to comply. But he knew he couldn't very well set sail with no plan and without the faintest idea of where to begin such a quest. Not to mention the fact that she had no memory of him and, most importantly, she was happy.
Regina had gifted Emma and Henry with memories of a life together, one that didn't include Storybrooke or fairytale characters. A life where false memories of raising her son had possibly created an Emma who wasn't quite as damaged as the Emma he'd known and loved with every inch of his heart. How could he set off looking for her with the intention of destroying her manufactured happiness without good cause?
Running a hand over his face and pushing away the last clinging remnants of sleep, Killian stood up and wearily made his way onto the deck of the ship. He was docked a short distance from the castle where Snow White, Prince Charming and Regina were living. After Regina had selflessly given up her own happiness with Henry to save everyone else, Snow and Regina had formed an unlikely and tentative bond. They'd both had to watch their children walking away into a life that they could share no part of, and that had broken them in a way that had also brought them together.
Saying goodbye to Emma and Henry had also lessened Snow's hesitance to trust Hook. She could easily see the sorrow in his eyes and the raw wound on his heart that opened every time Emma's name was spoken. She'd long since realized the pirate was in love with her daughter and she knew all too well what pain such unrequited love could inflict upon a heart.
They'd offered him a room of his own in the castle, but he'd politely declined. His ship offered all the space and solitude he needed, and the sea breeze always soothed him when the crushing pain of another love lost gripped his heart in the dead of night.
Leaning heavily against the side of the ship, Killian gazed out toward the horizon, clearly distinguishable against the shimmering calm of the water thanks to a cloudless night and a full moon. The world was so beautiful and tranquil in the small hours, but the raging disquiet in his heart far from reflected that. After spending a few moments just breathing in the salty, still air, he returned wearily to his cabin and lay back down on his bed, eyes locked on the ceiling as he willed a peaceful sleep to claim him.
He'd barely had one night of undisturbed sleep since she'd gone and the same empty ache he'd felt for years after losing Milah had once again returned to take up residence in his heart. But this time, there was a tiny spark of hope, a tiny part of that wrecked old heart that knew he would see her again. And he couldn't decide whether it was the missing her or the hope that was ruining him more.
Each time he fell asleep, he replayed every moment they'd shared, from the first time they'd met - and he could feel the knife she'd pressed to his neck, his pulse thrumming beneath the metal - to the passionate, unexpected kiss in Neverland. He relived every loaded look they'd shared, every time her touch had left him reeling while on the surface he appeared unaffected. He fell in love with her over and over again in his dreams, and he was finding it increasingly harder each day to wake up in a world without her in it.
As sleep finally began to wash over him, Killian felt himself slipping into a particularly lucid dream. Within moments, she was there again, sat on the end of his bed, her eyes closed and chin resting on her chest. He simply watched her breathe, mesmerized by her as always. The soft rise and fall of her shoulders made it look as though she was sleeping but he knew better. She moved then, to lie on her side right next to him, looking into his eyes, but seemingly seeing straight through him. He knew he was dreaming, knew he'd drifted off to sleep alone in his cabin and she was most certainly not real, but her quiet words shook him to the core regardless.
"I have this dream every night. It's like a memory of someone I've never even known, but he feels more familiar than anyone else in my life. And I miss him. I miss a memory I don't even have."
He reached out to touch her then, everything in him aching with the need to feel her soft skin under his fingertips. He could feel the dream slipping away and she was fading with it as consciousness returned to him yet again. The more he fought to stay in the dream, the faster it slipped away. He was dreaming with a broken heart and waking up was always the hardest part. He knew he would find no peace until he was waking up to a world with her in it.
"Emma…please stay, my love."
But she was gone. And he'd lost her all over again, just like he did every other night. Squeezing his eyes closed he sighed in frustration, that brief but tantalizing dream so real he swore he could still see the slight imprint of her body on the sheets next to him. His heart was whispering 'what ifs' to him and his head didn't seem inclined to stifle it.
In every one of his dreams, he saw the Emma he'd known. The Emma with a head full of memories they'd shared and feelings they'd not had the chance to speak of properly. He'd had lucid dreams before, fully aware that he was drifting into a dream that would only hurt his wounded heart more once he awoke. But this last dream…it stirred that cruel bit of hope he was slowly drowning in and fanned the spark into a flame.
If this dream held any ounce of truth, her leaving had left a space in her heart that even Regina's powerful magic couldn't fill with false happiness. He'd won her heart, of that he was sure when she'd given him permission to love her, with her eyes and her "good", right before she walked out of his life. He remembered so very clearly the way her eyes had flickered to his lips and he'd wanted so badly to kiss her before he lost her indefinitely, but they'd both known such an action would take from her the strength she needed to walk away.
Now, here he was, becoming more certain with each passing moment that he'd been blessed with a glimpse of her in her new life, been gifted with the painful possibility that, even though her memories were gone, his place in her heart was still there. The realization that hit him then was a hurricane storming through his heart. What she felt for him was stronger than magic. True love.
And she was out there, worlds away, missing him without memories. She was missing a man who'd lost everything but the memory of her and was left with a broken heart that could do nothing but dream.