A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KRISTEN3! This is just a silly plotbunny that refused to leave me alone. I know Kristen likes fluff and so I decided to write this for her. I hope you like it.
In this strange distortion of their hometown quiet nights were the norm. No rustling wind, a confused bird or even a car driving too fast. This world was covered in the screeching silence of death.
"I can feel you thinking." Killian grumbled next to Emma. She felt him turn against her and smiled into the darkness. He was warm and solid; he was alive. As so often these days, she put her hand over his heart. She needed to feel the life of it underneath her hand. Thump, thump.
"I'm sorry, it's just... " All of it, she thought. How could she sleep now when she needed to think of a plan to bring them back home? To defeat Hades? Her mind was running on empty. It was too quiet to think here. In the dead of the night. Between the literal dead.
"I know, love. But we – you – need to sleep." Emma turned to him. She could hear the exhaustion in his voice. There was a dim streetlight outside the apartment but it didn't quite illuminate the inside. Emma reached out and touched Killian's face. He huffed but she felt him smile when her fingers traced his mouth. She followed the outline of his upper lip before she finally came to rest on his bottom lip.
"What are you doing?" He asked against her finger, kissing it. Making sure you're real, she thought.
"I can't sleep."
"Can I do anything?" She felt his mischievous grin against her finger.
"We're at my parents'. My son is sleeping like right over there." She giggled. If only these were real problems or their only concerns. How easy life could be. Not her life; not theirs.
"I know. But you can't blame a pirate for trying." He didn't even mention the obvious; namely that they were staying here with her parents. They could have gone to her house, as strange as it was down here in the underworld. Emma had been reluctant to leave her parents tonight for reasons she couldn't quite comprehend. Every once in a while she'd gone over Henry's pages for baby Neal. Touching the photos, she wondered how much Neal would remember of this. For his sake she hoped he would never have to feel any doubt whether his parents – their parents – loved him.
"I can still hear you thinking. Are you sure you don't want to talk?" Killian tightened his grip on her, reminding her that she wasn't alone.
"There's nothing to talk about. We need to get home. My parents... they need to get back to their son."
"You don't have to feel guilty, you know."
"What?"
"You feel guilty that they're here with you and not with him."
"So? He's just a kid and he needs his parents." Emma shivered; she was that kid once, too. All alone in a big, cold world that didn't want anything to do with her. She thought of her little brother's smile. The way he would grab her finger when she told him stories. The way his eyes danced when she and David made funny noises. It wasn't just her parents who missed the baby; Emma missed the little boy, who stood for everything that was good and easy, just as much.
"You needed them too." Killian whispered close to her ear. Emma shivered again; this time, however, she felt anything but cold. Her eyes fluttered close. There had been so many times before where she had needed her parents. Or anyone really, for that matter. Having them here now, this time, it meant everything to her. It also meant responsibility. She had to get them home so history couldn't repeat itself.
"Have you ever..." he started and then trailed off. Emma waited for him to continue but he kept quiet.
"What?"
"Nothing. Try to sleep, love."
"No, what were you going to ask?" Killian sighed.
"It's not a question for the middle of the night."
"Oh come on. I can't sleep like that!" She couldn't sleep anyway, a nagging voice in her mind reminded her.
"Have you ever, you know, thought about a brother or sister for Henry?" There had been a moment not too long ago (or forever ago; who was to measure time here, anyway?) when Emma had considered just that. It had been a moment so ordinary in her so not ordinary life when she'd been at Granny's, a warm cup of coffee in front of her and no pressing monsters or demons in sight. Killian had walked in, with a smile on his face and a kiss on his lips. That's when she'd dared to think about it. A future with him. A possibility of something real. Then the world had come crashing down; literally. So, there was no answer for this. Because she didn't even have the time to think about the question, the implication behind it.
"I don't... I just want to get home right now."
"I knew I shouldn't have asked."
"That's something we should talk about when we're not stuck in hell." Emma smiled into the darkness. The ceiling had cracks in it and questionable spots. In the darkness they were plain black and she'd never seen them in the light before. Emma feared it might be blood. Her smile faded; nothing in this world was whole. Or even real.
"So I can ask you again? When we're home?" Emma wished she could see his face. In the darkness, though, her imagination could run wild. She'd seen him with Henry. The way he cared about her son. She imaged the question in his eyes. Maybe there was a longing in them for something that was real. And maybe in the future... they could have a future now, again, that he was alive.
"You should sleep now. I didn't meant to keep you awake." However, Emma was not ready to let him in on her thoughts just yet. Not here.
"What about you?" He asked, his voice already heavy with sleep. "You think you can sleep now?"
"I'll try." She told him, kissing his cheek. So warm, she thought. So alive.
"Good," he said against her neck, "very good." A moment later, Emma felt the change in his breathing pattern. In and out, in and out. It was the perfect lullaby; the sound of his breathing and the sound of his heart. Emma closed her eyes. She still didn't know how to get her family home. She would have to find a way. Tomorrow. And then, when all of this was over and done with, she could think about her future. Their future. Together. Emma touched his chest, listened to his heart one last time. Thump, thump.
They would be fine.
THE END
