Author's note: So I'm not sure I like how this turned out. I'm sorry for the wait, if anyone was waiting, but I've been hitting a brick wall after every sentence for a while. Hopefully, this doesn't suck as much as I think it does, right now.

Anyway, read, enjoy, tell me what you think if you find the time, and do you think the story benefits more from dreams or reality?

Happy New Year everyone, it's gonna be a wild one! :)

"What happened?" If he tries hard enough, he can hear a trace of anger in her voice, hidden under layers of surprise. It's strange, after all the time he spent alone. He's still not quite used to it, having someone care about him. Having someone be angry at his getting hurt. It's been so long.

"I-

I'm not sure." It's a quiet evening, just like the one before. Dr. Whale didn't even ask, and if he had, a bar fight would have been convincing enough. He doesn't want to lie to Emma though.

"I think I dreamed it." And even to his own ears, it sounds crazy.

"You dreamed…

What?" And there it is, that comically disbelieving look spreading through her eyes.

"That's not…" Possible? Emma thinks, can she even say that, anymore?

That night, she stays.

He protests the intention, he's a grown man. He doesn't need her watching over him. But the truth is, he doesn't want her to see. Asleep, he can't pretend, can't tease, can't smirk and say something inappropriate. Asleep, he's an open book. It almost makes his skin crawl, but then he looks at her, bites back the urge to hide. Some habits are hard to break, especially when you've been nursing them for as long as he has, but, he knows now, there's nothing he wouldn't do for her.

That night, she stays.

Sleep doesn't come easily.

This time, he knows it's a dream.

It's early morning and Granny's smells of fresh coffee. There's a cup in his hand and someone's sitting in a booth behind him, the person's elbow touching his shoulder. He almost doesn't notice any of these things.

He can't look away.

Liam pauses, brows drawing together. "Is something wrong?"

God, he hasn't heard that voice since…

There's this overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around his brother and not let go, but his frozen to the spot.

He manages a nod. A second later, a smile. For a moment, everything's right with the world.

"Liam."

Emma almost dozes off on a chair, pulled up next to the bed. A whispered "Liam" has her wide awake. She feels something tighten painfully in her chest at the soft expression on Hook's face. It's something she hasn't seen yet. She think, is this what Killian Jones, a navy officer, looked like. There's a smile curving his lips and she allows herself to hope. Maybe nothing will happen.

Killian doesn't realize right away the two of them are suddenly alone in the coffee shop. He doesn't care, as long as he has his brother sitting across from him.

The reality twists quicker than he can react, the wooden table extending newly born arms that wrap around his hands. The floor is quicksand underneath him, and then it's not, leaving his feet trapped in solid ground. Killian looks at his brother, eyes wide and terrified, and Liam doesn't see anything, he realizes. He's still talking, still sipping his coffee. He wants to scream, tell him to run. He knows it's futile, just as he knows his struggling is futile, but he can't stop. Can't just give up. He wants to scream 'no!' and 'run!' and 'you can't do this!' but his jaw is locked tight and all that comes out is a pained growl as he rubs his wrists raw. And Liam doesn't see, doesn't hear a thing.

Rumplestinskin's breath on his face makes his skin crawl. He feels sick.

"Watch this, dearie." And he can't help but comply, his eyes glued to Liam's face, mind working frantically to memorize every line, every feature, as a dreamshade thorn imbeds itself in his chest.

Killian isn't sure if he's crying, but he might be because everything's blurry.

And he's suddenly free and Liam's looking at him, and before he can stand up and go to him Liam's saying "Why didn't you stop him" and Liam's saying "Why?" and Liam's falling down.

There's that sick cackle again and-

"This one's on you."

-and he's screaming, and it's too late.

But it does. Something always happens. The peace on his face gets swiped away so quickly it makes her wonder if it was ever there. If maybe, it was just her wishful thinking. And then he's fighting something she can't see and she hesitates, just for a moment. At the sound he makes, she wills her eyes not to go to his face.

Emma is strong, but restraining him completely proves to be impossible. Asleep, he's fighting as if his life depended on it. And the thing is, it scares her, and the thing is, maybe it does.

She almost misses it, the way the skin just above his bandaged hand starts turning red. She has him pinned underneath her, and there's nothing there. Her stomach turns as she watches, out of nowhere, small cuts appear on his wrist that proceed to grow, turning to tears. His other wrist is hidden by the brace, but there's blood slowly gathering at it's edges.

She's distracted, lets up her grip on him just a bit. It's enough though, enough for him to wrench his slung arm away. Sharp pain radiates down her right side as the hook catches her collarbone.

A scream pulls her attention from the bleeding cut on her chest and she thinks, the human throat isn't supposed to make that sound. But his body stills underneath her, arm falling uselessly to his side. When she looks at his face his eyes are open and he's crying. She feels the world tilt on it's axis and he's crying. Aside from the lifeless body of her son, Emma has never witnessed something so… wrong.

A litany of "I'm sorry"s falls from his lips jumbled and almost inaudible. She doesn't quite want to know. She doesn't ask, doesn't say anything when he finally seems to realize she's there, still straddling him, still gripping his right arm.

In a nearly delirious state, he still manages to connect the dots. The blood on her chest, the stain growing slowly. The blood on his hook.

He looses his lunch, body twisted painfully over the edge of the bed, half of him still trapped under the blonde.

It's too much. It's all too much and for once, Captain Hook vacates the premises. And all that's left behind is a shaking, sobbing boy who's lived too long.

Emma doesn't sleep that night.