He couldn't help wondering how the hell that thing worked. It was not the first time someone had reached for his heart, and quite literally touched it. But this was the first time someone went as far as ripping it out.
He was walking down the road to Granny's, and tried as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about it. How much it hurt, how much more it hurt every time he thought about it. He was going to die a horrible death and he couldn't do anything to stop it.
It still hurt. Was the Crocodile toying with his heart?
Time passed faster than he thought, and he was already walking through Granny's threshold. It was empty, and he was grateful, and he wasn't. He felt desperate, angry, helpless, and bloody devastated.
He slowly put the key to his door and opened it. What good would it do him, staying in this night? He ought to go outside, make sure that the Snow Queen would not cause any harm to Emma, her family or anyone else.
It's not that it would be better for him to sleep anyway. He should go outside, fight to the death, protect the others, get drunk, run away, attack the Dark One, bloody do something.
But he was exhausted. He hadn't slept the previous night, he wore himself a lot this day, his chest was still aching. He didn't even have the power to undress fully. He got off his jacket and boots, then his vest and brace. Then he sunk to his bed and lied on his back.
He closed his eyes. He drifted off...
It wasn't much later that he woke up trembling. He was still wearing his clothes and his right hand was cradling the place over his heart. Or, better, the place where his heart should have been. He didn't remember the nightmare, only the dread feeling of it.
He's been having bad dreams for centuries now. He'd spent those centuries believing that the completion of his revenge would lead to his death.
Why was it all so hard now? All of a sudden, he couldn't bear a simple nightmare, neither the feeling of his imminent death.
He wanted to scream. But he couldn't. The Dark One's commands were clear: He couldn't tell anyone about his missing heart. He had to behave as normal as to not raise any suspicion.
So he just laid there, too tired to even take off his clothes, his hand on his chest, the pain finally (and mercifully) dulling...
He didn't sleep.