Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Once Upon A Time. ABC, Disney, the amazing A&E and whoever else have that distinction. No profit is being made, and no copywrite infringement in intended.

AN: Apologies for the fact that it's been two months since I've written, but at least my one IP story isn't a cliffhanger. (right now it's just a love fest, lol) But life got insane, and my muse was ignoring me, and now she wanted to write this rather than the comedy needed for the next chapter of A Lover and A Fighter. Spoilers for everything up to 5x04, as this is set right after the episode. Follows canon to that point, the next episodes may or may not invalidate parts of it. Captain Swan as always, and also as always reviews and constructive criticism very welcome. Because they were in my head and demanded that this be written. Feels and love. Enjoy!

Hold On

by Lady Callista

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"So hold on to me tight. Hold on, I promise it will be alright. Cuz we are stronger here together than we could ever be alone. Just hold on to me, don't you ever let me go.

Hold on to me, it's gonna be alright. Hold on to me tonight." from "Hold On" By Michael Buble

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Killian's eyes fluttered ever so slightly before slitting open, instincts honed over centuries of a dangerous life keeping his breathing even and his body still even as he scanned the part of the room he could see without moving his head, trying to ascertain what had woken him. He saw the flash of white and gold a second before he heard her voice.

"It's just me."

Emma's voice was calm, but he couldn't stop the rush of adrenaline as he sat up, realizing belatedly as her eyes widened that he was shirtless, and sitting up had made the blankets fall to his waist. Yet the fact that she had never seen him this way was barely a passing thought next to the rush of concern over what had brought her to him hours short of dawn. Quips and risque comments about her being in his bedchamber vanished from his mind before they could even fully form, and instead he asked just as softly as she had spoken, "How may I be of service, love?"

A ghost of a smile flickers over the part of her face he can see in the moonlight from the window, and he can't help but be struck by her beauty even as he worries over the lost look in her eyes.

He wonders if the smile is because the words brought up the same flash of memory for her that they did for him - the first time he offered her his service, as well as his ship. He wonders if she really understands how her reminder and belief that he could care about someone besides himself had been the catalyst for him doing just that.

There's also a chance that she heard the inuendo he normally would have laced the comment with, although he had asked in all sincerity.

"Killian, I..." The hint of smile falls away as she takes a few steps towards where he still sits frozen in his bed, and Killian wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms, but he's never pushed her in any way and he knows that now isn't the time to start.

"Emma, whatever it is..." He trails off just as she did, voice catching. He would do anything, sacrifice anything, for her, and despite his success earlier in the day he knows that it's only going to get harder to keep her in the moment. To keep her with him. "Just trust me, love."

He holds his hand out to her as he says it, another echo of earlier, and just as before she comes to him and takes his hand. She perches on the edge of the bed, eyes haunted, and then she takes a deep breath and focuses on their joined hands. Her voice is barely a whisper, and she shakes slightly as she confesses, "I need you to make his voice go away again."

His heart shudders at the vulnerability in the soft plea, and without thought he's pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her tightly. She buries her face in his neck as she clings to him, shaking slightly, and it tears him apart that there's nothing he can do but hold her. He strokes her hair softly; she's not quite crying, but he can hear the hitch in her breath that means it's close. Knowing her tears would further destroy him, he murmurs, "We can go for a ride again, there's enough moonlight it should be safe enough to..."

"No, I just... even just being here with you helps."

Emma leans in to kiss him softly, and he can't stop himself from deepening the kiss as she slides closer to him on the bed. Heat explodes through him as he feels her arms sliding up his back, and when her arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, her nails digging into his skin, he fists his hand in her hair, feeling the desperation surge through him to keep her here with him, to keep her filled with the light and hope and passion that he is so deeply him love with.

Neither of them has commented on her being in his bed chambers at such a late hour, nor the fact that he is shirtless, but he knows she's not as oblivious to it as she seems. They're both treating this as if it's normal, though it is anything but. He's already aching for her, and more than anything he just wants to pull her on top of him and show her a way guaranteed to make her forget about anything but him. But he can feel the desperation in her kiss and her hands, and remembering the lost look in her eyes when he'd first woken causes his hand to gentle, stroking through her hair now as he gentles the kiss as well.

His senses are filled with her, some kind of flowery soap she's only smelled of since Camelot, but under it all the vanilla and heat and just Emma. She's warm and soft under his hand, her body molded to his, and he thinks breaking the kiss might be one of the hardest things he's ever done. He pulls back just slightly, and she whimpers at the loss of body contact, eyes opening to look at him with curiosity, almost seeming upset that he's stopped her.

"Emma." It comes out much breathier and deeper than he'd intended, and he takes several deep breaths, trying to think past the heat coursing through him. Whatever is on his face causes her eyes to widen, and he leans in to kiss her lightly on the nose, causing exactly the small smile he'd hoped to see. "What do you need?" He keeps his voice soft, but knows she hears the firmness in it.

It's unspoken but completely understood that whatever it is, he'll do everything in his power to grant it to her. But first she has to trust him with whatever it is.

Instead of answering him however, her eyes drop from his, and he sees the heat on her face as she traces down his chest, pulling back enough to slide her fingers around his side, tracing up the muscles of his chest to play with his necklace. Then those magnificent fingers are sliding up his chest again, and he breathes deeply when her hand is suddenly in his hair and her eyes flick back up to his as she shifts on the bed until she's straddling his hips, and for a moment neither of them does anything except for moan at the contact, eyes locked, unable to help the occasional twitch of their hips.

He sees the desire in her eyes, and gods knows he wants her, and this will certainly get their hearts racing and their minds focused, and... and a voice in the back of his head is screaming that it wouldn't be right.

Then she leans back in to kiss him.

"Killian?" She stops with inches between their lips, her eyes on his, something in them obviously conveying the mix of hesitation and desire that are swirling through him at the moment.

He closes his eyes briefly, his hand and hook sliding to her waist and regretfully urging her to slide back a little. It's not enough though, she's still to close for him to think, and with his eyes still closed he presses on her hip again, not at all forcefully, but making it clear he wants her off his lap.

She moves easily, but he hears the catch in the back of her throat, feels the stiffening in her torso, and his eyes fly open to meet emerald pools that are shimmering with a fear of rejection. His hand is cupping her cheek before he ever realizes he's reached for her, and he kisses her softly, wrapping his other arm around her and laying back at the same time, pulling her into his arms, tightening them unconsciously as she cuddles into his chest, her ear over his heart.

He can't help that his voice is still breathy and deep as he whispers, "If you've any doubt that I want you, Emma, you've not been paying attention." She chooses that moment to cuddle closer, sliding her leg over and between his, her knee lightly brushing against him and causing him to half gasp, half chuckle. She drops a kiss over his heart before raising her head, propping herself up on her elbow to meet his eyes. He starts to speak again, but her fingers come up to touch his lips, and for a long moment she simply meets his eyes, making him feel like this time he is the open book.

Although that is completely by choice, as he isn't certain what he would have said next anyway. He simply lowers every wall and mask he has, and he sees in her eyes the moment she understands.

Then the words came softly, easily, "You know I want this, love, but not to silence a voice in your head. We've waited through both the celebrations of success and the nights when we feared what would happen on the morrow. I've dreamed of this being about nothing but us, and it seemed you were on the same course. But you have to know that..."

"Shhhh." Her finger came up to ghost over his lips again, and then she was tilting over to kiss him gently. "I get it. Not like this."

"It would not be my first choice, love, nor do I think it is really yours." He murmured in her ear, his body still screaming at him but his heart filling him with a heat of another kind. Not only did she understand him perfectly, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't disagree. "I promised you I'd never stop fighting for us, and that means whatever you need it to, love. So if it's what you need, now or in the future, we'll find a way to make it special. To make it be about us, as it should be because I..."

"Killian." She cut him off again, and he could see the irrational spurt of panic in her eyes as she realized the words that would have come next. She knew, of course she did, but he hadn't said it and neither of them had mentioned that she had, and...

"The last thing you asked of me, well, of me and your parents, but..." This time he breaks off of his own accord, cursing mentally. She'd known what he was about to say and cut him off, so he'd tried to redirect the conversation, to explain why it felt wrong even though...

"I meant it."

His mind goes blank for an instant, her words so soft he almost wonders if he dreamed them. But then his eyes snap back up to hers from where he'd been staring at their joined hands, and he sees the mix of fear and hope in her eyes. She had clearly followed where his thoughts had gone, and the wonder and love that pour into him completely flood out all the pain.

"Emma..." He breaths her name softly, his hand cupping her cheek again, thumb tracing her cheekbone in tender swipes that had her face turning into his hand and dropping a soft kiss on his wrist. Eyes still on his, she grasps his wrist lightly and he allows her to move him, until his hand is over her heart and hers is on top of his, and the memory slams into him so fast that his voice breaks as he breathes her name again.

"I'm sorry... I was scared, and maybe that was the worst time to tell you, but I knew how I felt when I thought you were dead and I hadn't told you, and I didn't think I was going to die, but I knew it would be different, and I almost told you on my bed in the loft, and I think you even knew that, but, but..."

It's adorable, actually, how she's rambling when she never does, but he can see the nerves and fears in her eyes and body, and so he silences her with a gentle kiss. He brushes his lips over her cheek then, feeling her soft sigh, and murmurers in her ear, "We've both lost people we loved, and it's bloody terrifying to imagine going through all that heartache again. You feel as if you don't admit it, as if you lie to even yourself about how you feel, it won't hurt as much when you lose it. Not if, when, because you believe you'll lose everyone you love."

Emma only stared at him in shock, eyes widened in an expression that clearly asked how the hell he had understood her, and he only chuckled gently. "It took you a decade to risk it again, love, it took me over a century. I didn't want to love again, because it had only brought me pain. But then there was you, and I..."

Her fingers came up to his lips yet again, and she breathed, "I know. But you're right, not like this."

"When?" He breathes into her hair, and feels her tense briefly before she relaxes again.

She slides back down, cuddling up with her head over his heart, and Killian wonders if she'll deliberately misunderstand him. The question could be taken three ways, and given what they were just speaking of it would make more sense for him to be asking when he could tell her that he loved her, or that a tinge of his darker side was peaking out and wondering when he could show her that love. But that wasn't what he was asking at all, and he knew she knew that.

"I don't know."

Killian stroked his arm down her back softly, their joined hands now resting over his heart. He cursed absently the loss of his other hand; when he'd wished what seemed so long ago for two hands to hold her he hadn't just meant in a carnal way. Being careful with and aware of his hook was as natural to him now as breathing, but he still wished he'd removed it before sleeping tonight. He generally did, but despite David's belief that Arthur was a good man, for some reason he couldn't seem to relax while in this seemingly perfect kingdom. He'd had too many enemies appear in the guise of friends to trust anyone this quickly, especially when his and Emma's happy ending was what was on the line.

He pulled his thoughts in quickly, realizing he'd been letting them drift when she repeated softly, "I don't know."

"Would you like to know when I knew?" She doesn't answer, but he feels the barest nod against his chest and continues softly, "The first time you kissed me, lass. For an instant, there was nothing but you, and something between us I'd not felt since Milah. It had been growing since I came back, as I got to see even more how brilliant and determined and amazing you were, but when you kissed me, I... I realized just how much I'd given up for you. Just how much I would if it were needed. The look in your eyes the instant after you broke the kiss, before your walls came up again... I knew you were finally giving me a chance. And I wanted to be worthy of that more than I wanted revenge. Revenge is an end to a life, Emma, not a life, and I've known that for longer than you've lived, but it was all I had. You showed me that I could have more, and you were the only thing in a century that made the risk worth it. You saved me, love, and now we're going to save you. And the next time I ask you when, I'll be asking when I can get you alone to have my way with you."

She shivered against him at the huskiness in his voice near the end, and she breathed, "I say I don't know because I think it's been a while, since I was so scared to think about it... but... but I think in the past. I, I mean when we went through the portal to the past. I think it was a slow fall, those couple of days, but I was still scared and telling myself it wasn't worth the risk. And then what you told me outside Granny's, and when we..."

"When you let me taste you again." He husks teasingly, finding it adorable how she can be so hardened in some ways and yet still blush when she speaks of kissing him.

Her fingers trail slowly down from his heart to his side, and before he can ascertain her intention her fingers are dancing over his ribs, breaking the tension that had been settling around them. Indescribably grateful that they still have this teasing, this give and take, this prod and push and tease that has always been such a part of their relationship, he laughs as she tickles him even as he moves to pin her hand. He feels her tense, likely anticipating a retaliation, but he only kisses her slow and deep before pulling her head back down to rest over his heart.

"I was still scared, but... but I was ready to trust that I was right about you. That I could trust you. That I could..."

"Not like this." It was his turn to hush her this time, and she curled closer into him, her fingers playing in his chest hair briefly and causing him to inhale sharply before his hand came up to still hers, raising it to his mouth to kiss her fingers softly before returning their linked hands to rest on his chest.

"Killian... this is a really crappy thing to ask right now, but..."

"You think that now that I've got you in my bed I'd let you leave?" He teases as she trails off, knowing both what she wants to ask and why she hesitates. The desire between them has never been more clear than it is tonight, but she recognizes as much as he does that while one type of closeness isn't the answer right now, another kind could be. He hasn't literally slept with a woman since Milah, having neither the trust nor the desire for the intimacy involved. But while his voice had been teasing, the though of her leaving at the moment, when they've just let down their walls so much, is more painful than he even wants to consider.

She takes the easy out he gives her, chuckling as he makes a point of tightening his arms around her. "Sleep now, love. We'll tackle evertyhing afresh tomorrow."

Emma answers him with a soft kiss over his heart, unable to confess the fact that she doesn't sleep anymore. She'll tell him in the morning, but she interrupted his sleep, and though he would never object she can still hear the exhaustion in his voice.

His arms remain tight around her even as she feels him fall asleep, and she thinks maybe he needs this as much as she does, although for a very different reason. She knows him, and she knows that it's killing him that he doesn't have an answer. That they haven't found a way to save her yet. He'd been tossing and turning when she poofed into the room, and she knew it had been the step she instinctively took towards him when he whispered her name that had caused the sound that woke him.

Emma realizes with a start that her demon tormentor hasn't been around since she kissed Killian the first time, and rather than question it she just tilts her head slightly to drop another kiss on his chest. She times her breathing to his heartbeat, and remembers the first time she met him. Which slowly fades into his attempts at discussion as they climbed the beanstalk, and her amazement at his bold style and courage which she had slowly realized was partly a death wish. She remembers all his -she now has to admit sincere- attempts to connect with her, and the way that even when she tried to rebuff him he just tried again, sharing himself with her, opening up to her even when she gave him so little back. She thought of the first time she saw the lost boy underneath the pirate, and the first time she saw the gentleman.

Hours pass as she lies in his arms, adjusting automatically as he shifts in his sleep, oddly touched by how he unconsciously keeps her close. By the time she sees the first rays of the sun through the window, they're lying on their sides with him spooned around her, her ass cradled by his hips, and she feels in more than one way when he starts to wake.

"Mhhh... Emma." His voice is thick with sleep, his accent somehow stronger but more liquid, and Emma shivers as his hand slides up from where it had been wrapped around her waist to lightly cup her breast, his thumb playing over her peak even as his hips shift sightly into her.

She sighs as her blood heats at his touch, but knows that everything he said during the night was right. As much as they both want it, not like this. She turns slowly in his arms, unable to help pressing herself fully against him for a long moment, feeling his body react even more strongly as she slowly leans in and gently kisses him awake.

He presses harder against her, deepening the kiss even as he shifts until he's above her, pinning her to the bed, and she revels in the feeling even as she knows she'll have to stop this soon, before they are too far gone to stop. His hand is on her thigh, pulling it up around his hip, and his hook is by her head, some his of weight shifting to his forearm as he seems to wake up at least somewhat. Then he stiffens, breaking the kiss and dropping his head into the crook of her shoulder as he shifts some of his weight up onto his knees. "Good morning, love."

She whispers it back, smiling when he moans either at her imitation of his accent, or at the way she lightly presses her hips up into his before settling back beneath him.

He flips himself off of her, lying on his back and trying to regain his equilibrium. He'd been dreaming of her, and even waking with her in his arms he had been half convinced he was still dreaming. Then she had kissed him, and he'd been uncaring if it was dream or reality as they pressed together, as she gasped for him, as he gripped her ass, her hips stuttering against his as he slowly settled his weight on her, as he rocked his hips back and forth, adjusting the angle until he heard her moan. He'd wanted her to make that sound again, and it was only as he ground himself into her, pulling more delicious sounds from her lips, and as his hand pulled her leg around his hip, that he realized that he was definitely awake. And that they had already decided this wasn't right. And so he'd drawn back, and couldn't help but tense slightly as she curled into his side.

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"I'm hardly complaining about the way you chose to wake me, love," His voice is tender, as is the kiss he drops on her forehead. "I only wish I didn't need to be a gentleman at the moment."

"It took me too long to believe that you were." Emma whispers back, and this time his hand comes to her chin, raising it so that he can drop this kiss on her lips. "But you really are okay with just holding me."

He smiles softly, running his thumb along her soft lower lip before kissing her again, his hand achingly gentle as it slides into her hair, urging her head to tilt and deepen the kiss.

He softens it just as tenderly, keeping their foreheads tilted together and whispering into the bare inch that separates their mouths, "I've had many dreams of us in my bed, love, but some of them truly are of just holding you. Falling asleep with you safe in my arms, knowing you'll be the first thing I see when I wake. A year ago this would have been one of my favorite dreams, and one I thought I would never have. I'm more than just okay with this."

Emma smiled softly at him, and they had just leaned in to kiss again when there was a knock at the door. He groaned, but her smile only grew. She knew they needed the excuse, or they would never want to get up. She whispered softly, "Thank you." He only tilted his head at her curiously, growling, "Give me a moment," towards the door, and she kissed him gently.

"I asked you to make him go away, and you did." Her smile grew at the flash of joy in his eyes, that either his words or his presence had given her peace. She couldn't break the moment by telling him she didn't actually sleep, there wasn't anything he could do about it anyway.

So she simply kissed him yet again, a chaste brush of lips that still made her blood sing, and willed herself back to her room as she heard the knock on his door repeated.

Her eyes took in the dreamcatchers that filled the window, the product of sleepless nights when she needed something to do in order to not go mad. Well, madder. Jefferson had said that to her once, hadn't he? That they were all mad, so it was okay.

She pulled down the one she had made before going to visit Killian, staring into its depths as she relived the memory of the night spent in his arms. It glowed pure and white, and Emma smiled as she hung it back up in the window, he fingers glancing over a pink one, the one that held the memory of their horseback ride and make-out session in the meadow. She wasn't removing her memories and placing them there, rather she was copying them. She knew that some day soon just remembering things in her head wouldn't be enough to keep the darkness at bay.

Then she looked down at the one on the table, only half finished. She had finally figured out what she was doing wrong, why she was weaving in a way that could capture new memories, but not look back to see ones she hadn't been part of. For an instant she lost herself in the one she had just enchanted, seeing the love and desire in his eyes as they kissed, and then with a thought she blanked it and got to work.

Weaving counterclockwise rather than clockwise seemed like such a stupid distinction, but now that she had access to Merlin's book she was learning much more about the actual rules and flows of magic, rather than just being powerful enough to muscle her way through without understanding. So she wove the dreamcatcher widdershins, knowing she had a good hour before anyone came to wake her. In that time she could finish the dreamcatcher, enchant it, and find out how Merlin had gotten himself stuck in a bloody tree.

As she wove, magic flowing absently from her fingers, she tried to keep her thoughts on Killian. She began humming the song they had danced to in the past, memories of red satin and his devilish smirk and how he had been the perfect gentlemen, yet left no doubt that he wanted her. She tried to keep that in her memories, she tried to skip to memories with only him when she got to to that point, but she couldn't stop her thoughts from turning to Gold, well, Killian's crocodile -she'd never understood the nickname until she'd seen him in the Enchanted Forest- and how he'd trapped them in the cellar, would have let them die there if Killian hadn't talked her into believing in herself. She tries to focus on Killian, on remembering the exact words he said to her, but even the thought of Rumplestiltskin, she has learned, is enough to bring him in all his sarcastic glory.

"Well, dearie, I have to say you won the day. But you have to win anew each day, and each victory for me makes it harder for you."

"That's why I won't give you another one." Emma whispers, knowing he's referring to when she had to use magic to save Robin. She doesn't know how, but she can feel that somehow there is still a price to pay for that, an imbalance that she knows will correct itself given time. She shudders, but has too much on her mind to worry about something that won't happen for at least weeks yet. She's gotten good at dealing with one problem at a time, while still planning in her head for the ones to come. One of the first things she learned, once she took up a hobby as recommended, was that the extra hours she had to think were both a blessing and a curse.

She focuses her eyes on the middlemist flower sitting on her bedside table, and with an absent thought weaves a protection spell around it, making sure it remains exactly as it is forever. She remembers how deep his eyes were as they locked with hers, and how he'd tasted of rum and ginger and somehow still of the sea. She sets down the unfinished dreamcatcher, reaching up to the window and pulling down a blue one, propping it against the window and activating it with a wave, watching the memory she'd placed there as she continues to weave the new dreamcatcher to see into the past of someone else.

She remembers the fear and panic when Ursula says she's killed him as if it were yesterday, and when Killian whispers that she is his happy ending, a single tear trails down her cheek. The dreamcatcher goes dark as they kiss, yet she keeps the memory in her head as she finishes the new one, and to her relief Rumple is nowhere in sight as she enchants it before popping herself down to the courtyard.

Killian's words and embrace have helped her hold on for another night, but she knows that soon that won't be enough. The sooner they can get Merlin out of the tree, the sooner they can end this. She had just barely started believing she could actually have a happy ending, and she was going to get it back. They were going to get it back.

Emma took a deep breath, and raised the dreamcatcher so that she looked at Merlin's tree through it. She focused on Killian's face for a moment, then brought in Henry's as well. As Gold had once told her, her magic came from emotion, and so she thought of the two biggest reasons this had to work as she called her magic and activated the dreamcatcher.

When Rumple appears, calling out that knowing won't help, Emma ignores him and holds on to the image of what she loves as she watches Merlin's sad fate. She holds on, ignoring Rumple even as he circles around her, knowing that every piece of knowledge could be the one that solved the puzzle. She keeps his face in her mind as the dreamcatcher goes dark. She knows how to free Merlin now. She just has to hold on until she can do it.

THE END