Her face was nestled in the crevice of his neck. He took a deep breath and recomposed himself. You need to sleep, he kept reminding himself. The breeze from their ceiling fan was starting to not be enough. His body was getting hotter the longer he lied there. The air conditioner unit in the window was looking more and more appealing. You can't turn the AC on; it's October for Christ sake. Sensing his heightened nerves, Emma gently brought a hand up to his cheek and brushed a kiss under his ear. She whispered softly, "Just close your eyes." Though matters were calmer than they had been in over two days, he wasn't able to fall asleep. He had been lying awake for hours at the fear that he too was falling prey to the sickness that had started with Emma and was now on their daughter. At least now Emma could manage to get a few hours.

No he couldn't get sick. He had to work a double tomorrow at the marina. Emma snuggled up to his side and gave him another soft kiss along his neck. "Close your eyes, Killian."

Relishing in her calming touch and soothing words, Killian closed his eyes again. Before he could mumble a single word to Emma, the baby monitor sitting on his bedside stand lit up a soft blue light. The light casted a blue shine along the silver curve of his hook resting alongside it. A weak squeaking cry suddenly echoed out from the speakers. Emma huffed out a sigh against Killian's prickly cheek. Elizabeth Swan, their one and a half year old daughter, had been suffering from a terrible fever for the past two days. Emma hadn't been able to sleep in over twenty-four hours.

She leaned up from the bed but was quickly pulled back down by Killian's good arm. "Not this time, love. My turn, remember?" He gently kissed her temple before sitting up and pushing back the sheets.

Emma didn't bother disputing him. She was too tired. Killian stumbled down the cool hallway until he rounded the corner into his daughter's nursery. The faulty bed light had gone out which sent the room in complete darkness. It took Killian a moment to slowly make his way across the room without stepping on or breaking any of his daughter's new toys. Elizabeth was already sitting up but she had no way of seeing who it was that had come for her. Taking his time to feel around for the light switch, Killian was eventually able to turn on the main nursery light. She squinted from the sudden brightness in the room. Still letting out fearful cries, she held out both arms for Killian to come pick her up. "Dahhhhhda!"

He sighed and lifted her out of her crib with ease. Even in her father's arms Elizabeth still kept hiccupping tears and muffled sobs against his shoulder. "Now, now darling the dark isn't all that bad." He slowly walked her around the room. Killian didn't have to put his hand to her forehead to be able to recognize that the fever had gotten worse since she was put to bed. She pressed her face against his chest and screamed louder.

"Elizabeth," he mumbled with concern. With his good hand, he stroked back the first thin strands of her golden hair. He shut his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead, slowly rocking back in forth in an effort to soothe her. Her pink little fingers gripped onto his tear-soaked shirt as the raspy cries kept coming. "Shh, it's alright sweetheart. You're alright." Despite his reassuring words he couldn't help but shudder when her burning hot forehead pressed against his neck. She was really sick. He kept rocking back and forth, brushing back her soft hairs and muttering calming words into her little ear for a while.

After a few minutes of failing to make progress, he looked down to meet her infuriated gaze. "Come now darling, you must be tired." She gave him a strange look of annoyance and impatience. Her watery bright blue eyes widened as she pressed her lips in a firm line. It was such an Emma Swan look, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Shall I sing to you then? Would that help?"

She fluttered her eyes, pushing a few tears down her hot cheeks before leaning forward against him in defeat. She was truly exhausted. "Very well then. Give me a minute." He pondered over the many folk songs he heard on the ship and then traced his memory back even further to the songs he heard as a child. One immediately struck a chord in his mind. "Alright darling, here goes."

You may travel far far from your own native home,

far away oer the mountains far away oer the foam.

But of all the fine places that I've ever seen,

There's none to compare with The Cliffs of Dooneen.

He was tired and the exhaustion was evident in his voice. He wasn't singing as much as he was mumbling. Nevertheless to his relief, Elizabeth quieted down to listen. Her sick raspy breath squeaked into his ear as she laid her head on his shoulder. The song was an old one that he once heard from his mother. It was one of the only memories he had of her: this song, a few broken phrases of love and images of his old room.

He brushed small kisses against her warm forehead in the pauses between each phrase. He took small slow steps to the left and right in cadence with the song. Going on to sing about nearby town, the beauty of a floral summer, and streams and meadows, Killian let himself get caught up in the lyrics. Thankfully it was short enough for him to remember the words, though long enough to lull his daughter.

Elizabeth's grip on his shirt weakened until her arms eventually rested limp against his chest. He grinned affectionately as he softly finished the last phrase of the song. Her eyes were complacently shut and her mouth had cracked open. Another minute passed by of him standing still and waiting to be sure that she would remain asleep. Due to her sickness, Elizabeth let out a light squeaking snore every time she took in a breath. Killian used one of her clean folded blankets to brush away tears that still remained on her hot cheeks. Slowly and gently, he lowered her back down into her crib. "Goodnight princess."

He waited to make sure that she was fast asleep before turning to find Emma leaning against the door frame. She still looked a bit groggy, though at this point, she was in better shape than him. Had she been standing there the entire time? Given the warm compassionate gaze she held towards him, he guessed as much. She grinned and silently made her way across the nursery. Killian couldn't help but blush, feeling slightly embarrassed. Elizabeth was the only person he felt comfortable singing in front of.

Not saying a word, Emma bent over the crib bars and looked down at her tired daughter. She smiled and held Killian's good hand, "C'mon Sinatra. You got her to sleep. Now it's my turn: I'm getting you to sleep." There was a glint of love in her voice that reassured him she wasn't judging. He turned and gave his daughter one final look over to be absolutely sure she was alright before he left her for the night (at least for now anyways).