Sanctuary
At the end of another day, another shift, she looks down at her husband, lost to his cursed slumber, and she feels the weariness right down to her soul.
She hadn't known she could feel so tired, so… she doesn't want to think 'defeated', but Gods…
It's time for her to kiss him awake, to take his place, his turn in their shared-but-not life, and she just doesn't want to.
He's just as worn out to the very heart of him, she knows. Just as done. He needs her every bit as much as she needs him, maybe even more.
The Evil Queen could not have cursed them better if she tried.
It's been weeks. Months, perhaps? She's lost track, time losing its meaning when you're just trying to get through, when half your life - more, even, as Charming has taken more than his share of the time trying to protect her from the horrors of being awake - has been taken out of your control, stolen from your grip.
She doesn't particularly care to count anyway.
They're no closer to finding a solution, a cure; the closest they've come to anything resembling help at all was Regina's finding a way to alter the curse so that they were no longer trapped in the fiery netherworld while taking their turn asleep. Rather, at least, at very least now their time lost is to their own dreams, be they what they may.
Nightmares often still, given the way they suffer while awake, but at least not trapped in a literally burning hell.
The emotional agony of being without each other is bad enough. Adding in physical pain - especially his - was more than she could bear.
And looking at Charming now, his face seems more relaxed in sleep than she's seen it in some time. Perhaps his dreams tonight are good, calm. She hopes so.
She desperately wishes to join him in that peace.
And it suddenly occurs to her that she can, perhaps. There's no rule that says they have to switch off when it's time to… and certainly, if there was Charming had already quite spectacularly blown that to bits a few weeks back, when he'd kept himself going for over forty-eight hours straight on willpower and fury and protectiveness of her alone.
There's no emergency that needs one of their attentions right this minute. The baby is sleeping sound. Emma has given herself a 'timeout' night that quite clearly was meant for her and Killian alone, no disturbances wanted.
She can… she can do this.
Just crawl into bed beside her husband, pull his arm around her body, curl up with her head on his chest, in just the right place to hear his heartbeat steady and true and matching up with hers.
She cannot be awake with him. But she can be asleep.
After all this time, it's finally occurred to her that she can at least have that, still, despite everything.
She can let herself fall asleep without taking on the curse to do it.
Cuddled up against Charming in a way she hasn't been in so long, too long, she feels her eyes almost immediately fall heavy.
And with her eyes closed, drifting off to dream, she could almost believe that everything was normal, and all was well.
It's always a funny thing, to know when you're dreaming as you're dreaming it.
She's home in the way that she hasn't been in a lifetime, wandering the woods of the Enchanted Forest, finding them completely untouched by time or magic. They are, in every way, the forests she remembers of her youth.
In this dream, the curse has not happened. What a thing.
The curse had left such a mark on her soul, she's never before dreamt of the lands she was meant to rule unravaged by it. They'd been destroyed in her imaginings ever since.
But now, she finds them strong and pure and as utterly magical as she remembers them.
She walks them in a gown of white silk and feathers that she remembers from another time, awakened from another sleeping curse; her hair flowing down her back in a cascade of long midnight curls.
She is every bit the princess just out of the coffin of glass.
And as she clears the tree line to come to the lake, she somehow, impossibly, finds the prince.
She's frozen, entirely frozen.
He's there. Just there, right in front of her. Sitting, his back to her, looking out at the lake.
They got engaged here, she thinks inanely. Just right here.
And now they're there. Just right there.
It's a dream, she thinks, telling herself it desperately. It's just a dream. And she should walk away now, so as to make it hurt less.
But she hasn't seen him, hasn't been with him in so long. She cannot walk away. Not from him. She's never been able to, not really - not unless it was to save his life.
And there's no life saving needed here.
It's not real, she thinks, even as she finally feels herself start moving forward.
But then again, she thinks, when it comes to her and Charming, stranger things have most definitely happened.
Of course this is all in her head… but that doesn't mean it's not in his too.
"Charming," she whispers, when she gets close enough for him to hear.
He stiffens. He does not move, does not turn, but she's spent forever studying him, and she knows he's heard, knows he's holding himself tenser than he was before.
He seems frozen still. She knows the feeling.
He starts shaking his head. "Not real," she hears him mutter.
She's thrown herself in front of him, down on her knees, hands strong on his face before she can even register moving.
"I am," she cries. "Charming, I'm right here, I'm with you, it's me."
"That's not possible," he breathes, even as he stares at her almost hungrily, as if trying to take every bit of her in, her face, her eyes (her open, awake eyes).
(Again, she knows the feeling).
"This is not possible," he repeats. "I know I'm dreaming, and I never dream of you anymore. The curse won't let us have even that."
She wants to laugh, wants to cry, seems to be doing both and neither.
"It can when we find the loophole," she tells him. "I can't believe we went this long without trying it…"
"Trying what?" he demands.
"I fell asleep," she laughs, thrilled with a delight she hasn't felt in far too long. "And I didn't wake you up. I didn't want to. I wanted to sleep with you again, so I just crawled into bed with you without waking you first. We're both dreaming right now. That's why we can be with each other like this."
The grin has worked its way onto his face slow and sure, and she knows he believes in this now.
"Love true enough to pop you into my dreams?" he teases.
"We share a heart," she reminds. "Stranger things, and all."
"Thank Gods for it," he says, serious now, wiping at her tears.
Her smile falls. "It's gotten us cursed."
"I don't give a damn about the curse. We'll find a way out, we always do. Especially now that we know we can do this, we know there's a way for us to talk and see and be with each other. Never regret it, Snow. Never regret our heart. It's kept me alive, kept me with you, and it'll keep us together forever, even through the worst."
"I love you so much," she tells him, desperate with it. She feels like she could explode out of her own skin, loving him so much, needing him so badly, and she throws herself into his lap, legs wrapping around his waist. He catches her with ease, in rhythm with her immediately, as always, and his hands are tight and strong at her back, gripping and holding her tight, and Gods, Gods, Gods she wants him, and she finally, finally lets herself kiss him and…
Light explodes.
Her eyes fly open, and she sits straight up, suddenly wide awake.
And her tears are immediate and fierce.
"No," she sobs. "No, no, no, go back to sleep, go back to sleep…"
"Snow."
She freezes.
The arms around her are tight and sure, and given the hands rubbing soothing circles on her back, belonging to a man very much awake.
Charming is awake.
And so is she.
The laughter is startled right out of her, a fiercely abrupt switch from the tears, and he is quick to join her in it. It's desperate and more than a little hysterical, and theirs, theirs, theirs.
"Oh my Gods," she gasps. "Charming…"
Whatever she was going to say, it's lost to his kiss.
They fall back into the bed together.
Wide awake.
Author's Note: I know I've been gone awhile. I hope this is part of me finding my way back.
Thanks, as always, for reading.