Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: If you'd told me even a few months ago that I'd end up writing fanfiction again, I wouldn't have believed it. It's been years and I thought my fanfic writing days were over. But lately I've been on such a big OUAT kick and Captain Swan is my OTP. I started getting ideas that wouldn't leave me alone, so here we are. This'll be a collection of oneshots. The rating is for later chapters. Hope at least someone enjoys this. :)
Rating: K+
It seemed as though the world was ending. That's how violent the storm was, what with the flashes of lightning that lit up the pitch black sky and the claps of thunder that often sounded as though someone had fired a cannon on the roof. Rain simply poured out of the sky. It was the kind of storm that made sleep nearly impossible. Especially for Storybrooke's youngest residents. Many of whom had woken up calling for their parents. Then there were those who were locked in nightmares they couldn't escape.
Such was the case for Clara Marie Jones who tossed and turned violently in her bed as she dreamed of a horde of monsters. It was a dream that she had had many a time before. She dreamed that she was stuck in the muddy bank of a raging river that was so dark that it looked like black ink. A river that the monsters who trying to drag her into. In her dream, she reached out and tried to find purchase in the thick mud.
It was no use.
Her feet were in the water now and it was freezing. She called out for help, but no one answered. Not her father. Not her mother. Not either of her siblings. It was just her and her monsters and that terrifying river. Her fingers left tiny trenches in the thick mud as she was pulled farther and farther in. Clara took a deep gulp of air.
And woke up screaming.
The dream had been so vivid, as all of her nightmares were. She could still feel the mud under her fingertips. She could feel the claws of those awful monsters tearing at her. She could feel the iciness of the water. It was always like this. It always took her a while to come out of the dream completely. As if the nightmares never wanted to let her go.
Slowly, too slowly, the nightmare started to fade. She clutched her beloved stuffed duck, Jolly, as she looked around her room with wide eyes. She gasped for air as her heart pounded inside her chest. Tears were streaming down her face as she realized that she was not, in fact, in a river but in her own bed. The realization did little to calm her down. Not when she could remember everything so clearly. Not when the rain and thunder made it sound like her house was surrounded by monsters.
Clara scrambled out of her bed, hugging Jolly tightly to her chest and made for her bedroom door. Only to skid to a stop as she heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. She let out a terrified screech as she ran towards her closet instead, sliding the door open and diving inside. She took a moment to slide it back closed before scooting into the corner, convinced that one of her monsters had snuck into the house and was coming for her. She clamped her hands over her face and rocked back and forth. Maybe this was it. Maybe her nightmares were finally coming true.
"Bloody hell." Killian Jones muttered as he peered out into the storm. He'd been lounging on their living room couch attempting to read when his wife had called to say that she was going to wait out the storm at her parents' house. Emma had gone out to dinner with her mother and Henry was staying with Regina for the week so it'd just been Killian and his and Emma's two daughters: Catalina and Clara. Aged six and four, respectively.
It'd been a fun evening - at least until this blasted storm had started. They'd had a nice dinner that was followed by a viewing of the animated version of Cinderella and then it came time for the girls to go to bed. Teeth were brushed and faces were washed and then he'd read them a story before tucking them into their respective beds.
By Killian's estimation, they had been asleep for about an hour before the storm started. Before all hell had broken loose outside. He shook his head at the rain, trying to remember the last time he'd seen a storm this bad. He briefly considered going back to his book, but thought better of it and decided to check on his girls instead. It was only a matter of time before the storm woke one or both of them. He'd just put his foot on the first step when he heard a scream.
His heart leaped up into his throat as he took the stairs two at a time. The following scream chilled him to the bone as he raced to Clara's room. He knew that it'd been her who had screamed. Catalina was certainly no stranger to bad dreams, but Clara's were altogether different. They'd started when she was around two years old and had quickly gotten bad enough that they'd been forced to turn to Archie, hoping that he'd be able to help their little girl.
Night terrors. That's what Archie called them. Their sweet Clara was being plagued by night terrors, though they hadn't been able to pinpoint what had made them start. It'd been nearly two years and none of them knew how to make them stop. There were things they could do to help, however.
"If she wants to talk about her dreams, let her. But don't push," Archie had told them. "Forcing her to talk about them won't help. It's easier said than done, but when she has these dreams, she needs you to stay calm. Just let her know that you're there for her. She needs reassurance. She needs to know that she's safe. That she's loved." At this point, Archie had given them a sympathetic smile. "That should be easy for you two. You're good parents. These dreams aren't your fault."
Remembering Archie's advice, Killian forced himself to take a deep breath as he flung open Clara's door. Staying calm was easier said than done. It was hard not to panic once either of them heard Clara scream. For such a small child, her lungs were shockingly powerful. Her screams were bloodcurdling. His baby was far too young to know this kind of fear. "Clara?" It took a concentrated effort not to shout.
Killian switched on her ceiling light as he scanned the room, noting that her bed was empty. Another deep breath. "Clara?" He bent down to peer under the bed. No Clara. His head shot up as he heard a whimper coming from the closet. He should've guessed.
"Clara, are you in here?" He slid open the closet door and crouched down. His heart sank as he spotted his little girl curled up in a little ball in the corner, trembling with her hands covering her face. "Oh my sweet girl," he murmured sadly. He inched closer, approaching her the way one might approach a wounded animal. "Clara, it's Daddy. You're safe now."
Killian watched as she slowly lowered her hands and eyes nearly identical to his own peeked out at him. "Daddy?" she asked, her voice shaking as she studied him. He gave her a small smile as her face lit up with recognition. "Daddy!" She flung herself into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder, sobbing.
At terrifying as her screams were, this might actually be the worst part of the night terrors, in his opinion. The moment when she completely dissolved into tears. Archie had said that the tears weren't necessarily a bad thing; it was a way for her to purge the dream out of her system. The Cricket might have been right about that, but damn if that made it any easier to watch.
Killian had experienced all sorts of terrible things in his lifetime, but if there was one thing that could bring him to his knees it was the sound of any of his girls crying.
He couldn't take it. Especially not when they were born of such horror. It made him feel helpless and Killian hated feeling helpless. Her grip on him tightened.
"Ssh, it's all right now, darling. You're all right. It wasn't real," he said softly. "It was just a dream." He ran his hand down her dark brown locks soothingly. "A horrible, scary dream, I know. But it's over now. You're safe now. I'm here." He kissed the top of her head. "Daddy's got you."
He began rocking her, the storm nearly forgotten as he focused his attention on calming his daughter. She slowly stopped trembling and her sobs became quieter, much to his relief. He carefully pried her away after another minute or two, just enough so that he could see her face.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, bringing his hand to her face so he could gently wipe away some of her tears. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment while she considered his question. Killian waited patiently, heeding Archie's advice not to push.
"There were m-monsters," she said quietly, her voice shaking on some of the words. "A bunch of them. Th-they were trying to p-pull me into the water." A violent shudder shook her small frame. "It was c-cold and the ground was m-muddy. I c-called for help, but you d-didn't come." Her lip quivered. "You didn't come."
"Oh Clara." He hugged her close again and struggled to speak over the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry." It was his turn to whisper. "I'm so sorry, darling."
"It's okay," she said after a moment. "Y-you're here now."
"Aye, lass," he agreed, drawing her back so he could see her face again. "I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."
"P-promise?" Her voice sounded so small to his ears.
"I promise," he assured her. He was rewarded with a tiny smile.
"I love you, Daddy." Four words that he would never tire of hearing.
"Not as much as I love you, little one." He kissed her forehead, smiling when she responded by hugging him again.
"Daddy?"
Killian looked up at the sound of his elder daughter's voice. He turned his head to find Catalina standing in her sister's doorway, a concerned expression on her face. While Clara had inherited his own coloring, Catalina had taken after her mother. She had the same blonde hair, the same green eyes and the same smile. She looked exactly how Killian imagined Emma had looked at that age.
"Yes, love?" He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised to see her awake. The storm was still raging, after all, though it seemed slightly less violent than before. Not to mention the way Clara had been screaming. If anything, it was a wonder she hadn't woken sooner. Maybe she had, but he'd been took preoccupied with calming Clara to realize it. "Did the storm wake you?"
She hesitated a moment before shaking her head, her gaze flickering over to her sister. So it had been Clara's screams that had done it. "The storm didn't help," she offered.
"No, I imagine it didn't." He smiled at her. "But it does seem to be calming down." No sooner had the words left his mouth when there was a clap of thunder so loud that it made all three of them jump. Clara let out a shriek and Killian extended his left arm out just in time for Catalina to come rushing into it. She flung one arm around him and the other around her sister. "Okay, so maybe I was wrong." He said it brightly, hoping to ease the tension a bit.
"I hate storms!" Catalina exclaimed.
"Me too," Clara put in. "They bring out the monsters."
"Aw Clara," Catalina said sympathetically. There were so many things that to love about his eldest daughter, but one of Killian's favorites was the way she cared about her little sister. She'd ignore her own fear to help Clara with hers. "It'll be okay! Have you forgotten? Our Daddy is Captain Hook! Those monsters are no match for him."
As it happened, Killian had been attacked by a number of monsters over the years. Some of which had almost killed him, but better to keep that thought to himself. He was touched by the vote of confidence all the same. "That's right. No monster would dare to step foot or tentacle in my house," he declared. "A good captain keeps his crew safe and I am a very good captain."
"You're the best captain!" Catalina corrected.
"Well, I don't know if I'd go that far," he began. "But if you want to, who am I to argue?" He shot Catalina a wink, making her giggle. "Now. I don't suspect that I'll be able to get either of you back to sleep anytime soon. So there's only one thing to do."
"What?" Catalina asked, intrigued.
"Gather up all the pillows and blankets we can find and build a fort in the living room, of course," he answered matter-of-factly.
"A fort? Are you serious?" Catalina wrinkled her nose. Clara stayed silent as she looked back and forth between her father and sister.
"What's wrong with a fort, may I ask?" Killian challenged.
"Daddy." It came out on a sigh. "Why build a fort when we can build a pirate ship instead?" She smirked at him, making him grin. She may have been a smaller version of Emma, but that expression? That was all him.
"Spoken like a true pirate," he said, proudly. "That's my girl. A pirate ship it is!"
"Yay!" Catalina cheered. "You'll have to be the captain, but can I be your first mate?"
"You would be an excellent first mate," he told her. She beamed at him. So far this distraction had worked to take Catalina's mind of the storm, but Killian wasn't sure if it was helping Clara or not. She had stopped crying, which was good, but she'd made no move to let go of him.
Par the course with her night terrors. After the screams and with the tears came the clinginess. Archie had felt that this, too, was normal. After the scariness of the dream, she wanted the security of knowing she was safe. So she'd cling onto whichever parent she wanted until she felt safe enough to let go. Sometimes it didn't seem to matter; she'd just hold onto whomever was the closest. Other times there'd be one of them she'd want in particular. Then there were the times where the dream had been so bad that she wanted them both.
That suited both him and Emma just fine. Truth be told, the cuddles seemed to help them almost as much as it helped her. He ran his hand down her hair again. "What about you, darling? Who do you want to be?" Unsure, Clara shot a look at her sister who was all too happy to help.
"She's the Pirate Princess," Catalina supplied. "And we're taking her to see the Pirate Queen."
"Mommy?" Clara asked.
"Mommy," Catalina confirmed, though this made her frown. "Daddy? Where is Mommy?"
"She's waiting out the storm at Grandma and Grandpa's," Killian told them, wincing when Clara's face fell. "She's okay. Mommy's safe," he assured her. "She may end up having to spend the rest of the night over there, but she'll be back in the morning."
"I hate storms," Clara pouted. "I want Mommy!" Uh oh.
"That's why we're making the pirate ship," Catalina cut in before Killian could speak. "So we can sail to Mommy. It might take all night, that's all." A pause as Catalina watched her sister. "Don't worry, Clara. Daddy won't let anything happen to our Pirate Princess." She reached up to wipe away a tear that had escaped and was rolling down Clara's cheek. "And I won't either."
"What a storm that was, huh?" It was early the next morning and Emma had just gotten home. The storm had stopped sometime after midnight, but it'd started raining again while Emma was driving home. She'd darted into the house and was hanging up her jacket as she spoke. She'd seen the living room light on and had assumed that Killian was already awake.
"If I'd have known it was going to be that bad, I would've had dinner with Mom some other time." Emma headed into the living room, surprised into silence by the sight that greeted her.
It looked as if every pillow and blanket they owned had been piled up into a somewhat triangular formation on the floor in front of the couch. Killian and their two daughters were fast asleep in the middle of it. The girls were in pajamas, but Killian was still wearing what he'd worn the day before which told Emma that the storm must have woken the girls up before he'd gotten the chance to go to bed. This must have been his way to try to make them feel better.
Killian's hook and brace had been discarded on the couch behind them. He had Clara curled up against his left side and Catalina against his right. Clara's small hand was wrapped around his necklace as if to keep him anchored in place. Something Emma was prone to do herself. Clara's beloved Jolly was on his stomach between the two sisters. Killian had his arms wrapped around his girls protectively and his head rested against Catalina's.
The sweet scene before her made Emma smile even as tears pricked her eyes. Unable to resist, she dug her phone out of her jeans pocket and snapped a few pictures. Satisfied, she set her phone down on one of the end tables before nudging Killian's foot with her own. She knelt down as she waited for him to wake.
He woke slowly, his first instinct to check on each of his daughters before looking up. A sleepy smile crept across his face as he drank in the sight of his wife. "Hello beautiful."
"Hey handsome," she responded, her smile widening. "What's all this?" She gestured to the pile of blanket and pillows with her hand.
"Why, it's a pirate ship, love," he informed her. "And you call yourself my wife." He gave her a look of mock disapproval. She chuckled as she shifted to take off her shoes.
"Well, in that case," she started. "Permission to board, Captain?"
"Of course. The Pirate Queen is always welcome on my ship," he answered. Emma lifted an eyebrow as she settled in behind Clara, keeping herself propped up on her elbow so she could look at him.
"I'm the Pirate Queen now?" she asked, amused.
"That's right. I'm the Captain of this here vessel and this," He patted Catalina's shoulder. "Is my first mate and this," A nod to Clara. "Is the Pirate Princess who we are taking to see the Queen. To find you."
"I see." Emma looked over her girls for a moment before speaking again. "The storm?"
"The storm," Killian confirmed. "And I'm afraid to say that it gave our Pirate Princess one of her bad dreams." Emma frowned, her gaze shifting to her youngest daughter.
"I knew I should've stayed home," she sighed. "How bad was it?"
"Bad, but she's okay. Emma." He waited for her to meet his eyes again. "She's okay."
"I hate these dreams, Killian," she sighed.
"I know," he said gently. "I do too. But at least this one is behind us. She seems to be sleeping peacefully enough."
"Yeah, because she's holding onto her Daddy," she said.
"Well, maybe that helps a bit," he said, with a small smile.
"A lot. It helps her a lot," Emma corrected him. She studied him for a moment. "Killian?" He lifted his eyebrows in response. "Thank you."
"For what, love?" He asked, sounding a little confused.
"For being the kind of Daddy who will build his girls a pillow ship in the middle of the night to comfort them during a storm," she said tenderly, reaching over Clara to press her hand to his cheek. "And then letting them use him as a pillow." She waited a beat. "I think I'll keep you."
"I would despair if you didn't." He turned his head to kiss her palm. "It's still pretty early yet. How about we get a little more sleep?"
"Sounds good to me." Emma shifted until she found a comfortable position and settled her arm around Clara. The movement caused her to stir.
"Mommy?" She mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
"Yes, baby, I'm here now," Emma assured her.
"We're both here," Killian added. "Go back to sleep, darling. We've got you."