"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."
- Lao Tzu
A/N: So this is the fluff that happens when I try to write angst. Or not. I don't even know what this type of genre is anymore. Reviews?
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my world. Just my imagination borrowing them for a bit.
"No!"
He bolted straight up in bed, the sheets falling around his waist, sweat running down his face. He turned quickly to see if she heard and found her still asleep, curled on her side toward him, her soft lashes resting peacefully against her cheeks.
He ran his hand across his eyes, as if he could erase the vivid dreams from his memory, and felt his fingers trembling against his clammy skin.
If remembering while asleep could be called dreams, he thought bitterly.
Since returning from the dead not three weeks ago, he'd been plagued with nightmares every time he closed his eyes, memories of his time spent with Hades, the tortured feelings fresh against his skin. He hoped Emma didn't know, he'd hoped they would have been gone already, but clearly his mind wasn't quite ready to let go of those particular thoughts.
He slipped out of bed soundlessly, padding quietly to the hallway. Henry was sleeping in his room down the hall, the soft sounds of teenage snores echoing in the dark. He smiled briefly, though a touch shakily, and headed down the stairs toward the back of the house.
He came here most nights, especially when it wasn't raining, which tended to happen far more frequently than he would have thought possible. The sound of the ocean calmed him as he sat on the porch and, if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the rocking motions of the ship that was docked - currently empty - in the harbour across town.
He settled onto the top step with a sigh, the sweat evaporating already from his skin in the cool night air. He needed to calm down, he needed to relax, not only for himself and this thing called 'blood pressure' Emma was always worried about, but for her. He was useless to her if he couldn't even control himself. Her panic attacks were less frequent now, and she was smiling more and more often, more easily, but he knew how much she doubted herself, how helpless she felt when they did hit.
He knew, because he felt it, too. She didn't know about his frequent nightmares, she couldn't know, she had enough to deal with on her own. It wasn't every night, and he was thankful for that, but more often than not, he'd wake from some fevered, twisted version of his own memories, his limbs shaking from fear and remembered pain.
He wanted to tell her, he wanted to be as honest with her as she was with him, and some part of him was hoping to get caught in this lie of omission, and surprised her super power hadn't picked up on it already, but he was just as happy to keep her from his problems, at least for now. She needed him to be the strong one right now and he was more than happy to oblige.
Besides, it was all his fault.
She was hurting, and it was all because of him, because of losing him to one death or another, and, aside from patiently holding her hand and waiting for it to pass, there was nothing he could do, and he hated feeling so useless to her. She assured him that just being there was enough, that it calmed her more than all the words he could think to say, and it felt true enough when she said it.
The door creaked open and he twisted his head quickly to look. She stepped out onto the wide porch and moved to sit beside him, nestling her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. He kissed the top of her head.
"Another nightmare?" she asked quietly.
He nearly pulled back in shock. She knew, she knew, and she hadn't said anything before.
"How did you-"
"You were crying in your sleep," she murmured. "I tried to wake you, but I know that you don't like being seen like that." She reached her left hand up to his fingers that lay across her shoulders.
He was quiet. "How long have you known?"
"Killian, we share a bed," she said. "I might be a deep sleeper, but I know when something's wrong with you."
"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" he said, turning to her in the darkness.
"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready. You always do." She released his hand and touched his cheek softly. "Killian, you know you can always come to me if you need anything."
"I know, love," he said quietly. "I just didn't want to burden you with that, not when you have so much else on your mind."
"You've been so patient with me these past weeks," she whispered. "Let me return the favour. Besides," she added quietly, her hand against his chest as she snuggled deeper in his arm, "isn't that what a relationship is? Two people supporting each other through the hard times?"
He nodded slowly. "You're right," he said, pulling her closer. "But let's try not to have too many of those times in the future, okay?"
He could hear the smile in her voice as she answered.
"Deal."