A beautiful garden surrounded him. The flowers were all just in bloom their petals just opening up the world. He looked down at his attire. Gone was his leather coat, now replaced by a brown one His low cut black shirt now replaced by a white and a black high buttoned up vest over the top. He no longer looked like a pirate, he looked like a nobleman. He noticed his hook was gone. He had his hand back. Slowly he brought it up into his peripheral vision and bent each finger one after the other. He turned it over inspecting it.

As he put his hand down he noticed a figure further off in the garden standing with their back to him looking at a fountain. The fountain's shape eerily familiar to a certain rum bottle. He walked towards the figure and took note of the beautiful white gown that cinched in a the waist and puffed out. A dress for a princess. Why was a princess here? She turned around as he approached, her eyes a familiar green, "Emma?" he breathed. Wonderstruck by her beauty. He stepped forward into her space and lifted his left hand to cup her face and she placed a kiss to it before allowing her head to rest there. "You look beautiful," he told her, She smiled a smile he had never seen on her face before. She looked content. "Why are we dressed like this?"

"Perhaps, this is what we could have been. In another life. A princess and a nobleman. On our wedding day,"

"It's our wedding day?"

"You wish," she let out a small laugh and ending it with a content sigh.

"I do," he said. Her content smile vanished and turned into a malicious grin, she took his left hand in hers and twisted it painfully and forced him to the floor. "Shame you chose revenge over me then. Cast me aside. Abandoned me like everyone else."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to," he pleaded, his eyes watering from the pain as she twisted his left hand some more.

"Liar!" she screamed in his face. The sun disappeared from the sky and a strong wind game gusting through causing Emma's hair to come undone and fall down in lustrous curls. "I hate you. I despise you. You are nothing but a villain."

"Emma please,"

"Because of you I shall never be free! You have doomed me Killian Jones!" The wind got stronger and she twisted his left hand tighter. The wind began to pull at her dress. The fountain behind her morphed into her bottle and a smoke began to pour out and engulf her. The wind tore at her dress, tearing it away. Revealing the garments of a genie. Shackles appeared from nowhere and clasped themselves on her wrist. Her body flew up as if the bottle was sucking her in.

He was pulled up onto his feet his left hand now gripping her right. "I've got you Emma,"

"You'll let go. You'll doom me to imprisonment."

"I promise I won't"

"Liar!"

"Emma please!" his grip was slipping and his left hand was burning with ferocious pain her green eyes bore into him. "You chose revenge. You are nothing but a villain,"

"I'm sorry Emma. I'll make it better. I won't let go. Let me take your place. Please,"

"You failed me Killian,"

"I'm sorry,"

"You can't hold onto me. I don't want you. You are nothing to me. Nothing." He couldn't hold onto her any longer the pull was too strong.

He woke up beads of sweat tracing his brow and her name crying from his lips "Emma!" He was panting his right hand clutching hold of his left stump, which was red raw from rubbing it in his sleep. He sat up in his bed trying to regulate his breathing and turned his head slowly to see a figure standing a little way off with a startled look on her face. Emma held her bottle in her hands with such an innocent sheepish look on her face. All he wanted to do was embrace her.

"Smee summoned me out. Wanted to talk about wishes. Then went to bed, didn't send me back into my bottle. So I decided to look at the stars. I heard a noise so came in" she said hurriedly as if she was embarrassed by the fact that she was in his cabin. He sat up in his bed and put his head into his hand and hid his stump underneath his covers. "Sorry lass, I didn't mean to worry you,"

"I wasn't," but she trailed off. She bit her lip and looked around her sheepishly before she placed her bottle on his desk. She placed her hands on the desk and glanced at him quickly. She found a bucket of water in his room and hunted around for a cloth before carrying them back and perching herself at the edge of her bed. She dipped the cloth in the water and rung it out. "You're hot," she told him as an explanation as she apprehensively reached over and dabbed at his face with the cool cloth.

"You've only just noticed?" he said but his heart wasn't completely in the playful smirk and raised eyebrow. He had been too shaken up by his nightmare. Now she was here dabbing his face with a cool cloth.

She looked down to where he was hiding his stump. "This might sooth the pain," she told him.

"What pain?" he lied,

"I saw you wringing it in your sleep,"

"You saw?"

"Yes,"

"I'm sorry,"

"Why? It's just your arm," she told him as she gently coaxed his arm out from underneath the covers and covered it gently in the cool cloth. He let out a sigh of relief as the pain subsided for a moment. "You were calling my name," she said slowly.

"Aye."

"You shouldn't feel guilty you know, about not using your wish on me. I never expected you to. You never promised you would. You never even proposed you would. I'm not angry at you for it,"

"You had hoped for something though," he mumbled. "I can read you like an open book love. When I made my wish I saw hope drain from your eyes."

"That would have been annoyance at your terrible worded wish. Seriously? That was terrible." She took the cloth off his stump and placed it back in the bucket and rung it out again before gently rubbing his stump with it trying to ease the pain of the red raw skin.

He liked the way her touch was so gentle and the way her eyes were so focused and the way she slightly titled her head and shook her hair out of her face. He like the warm touch of her hand as she held his stump. He wished she would hold his other hand and squeeze it comfortingly. "Were you having a nightmare?" she asked.

"Yes,"

"And I was in it?"

"Yes,"

"Was I the reason it was a nightmare?"

"No. I was the reason it was a nightmare,"

"Oh," she simply said not pressuring to reveal more. He thought to himself how could she believe that her very presence was a nightmare, when in actually act her presence was a beautiful dream.

Emma didn't know why she was taking care of him. But watching him amidst his nightmare calling her name, she felt responsible. He believed he should free her and he believed that he should have used his wish. He didn't owe her anything. She didn't expect him to do anything. He had already given her so much kindness. Yes, she might have deluded herself in thinking that he could save her. But she was a realist, she knew happy endings didn't exist. She might have been angry when she returned to her bottle, disappointed, but she was angry at herself. None of this was his fault. She didn't blame him. She knew she would miss the freedom, miss his friendship if she could call it that. Miss his presence in her life. But she had to move on. They were no longer bound to each other. But right now, she could still help him. He gave her freedom so she would give him comfort. "Why can't I open your bottle?" he asked.

"Because you've already had your wishes. Say if I hadn't granted you any wishes and you never opened the bottle before then you could have even if I already had a master. I just wouldn't be able to grant you any wishes until they had already made them."

"Ah. I wish I could,"

"What?"

"Open your bottle,"

"Why?"

"I like speaking to you lass. It's refreshing." Emma took the cloth off his stump once more but left it in the bucket this time. The skin was a lot less red. "Thank you," he told her.

"That dream really shook up didn't it?"

"Night mare," he corrected her. "And yes, it did."

An awkward silence fell over them and Emma tapped her hands together as if thinking or trying to work up the courage to do something. "Will you hold my hand love?" he asked,

"I'm sorry?"

"My hand, hold it. I just," he took his hand and gave it a squeeze. What are you doing? She asked herself. This was not something she did. She didn't just hold a guy's hand. She didn't just comfort someone. But she wanted to. She didn't like seeing Killian Jones in pain. "Life's messy Hook, don't focus on the mistakes or the regrets. Otherwise you'll just end up living in the past,"

"I let go Swan,"

"Um…"

"I couldn't keep hold. I let go,"

"I'm not sure I'm following,"

"I let go of your hand. I let go. I tried to hold on I did, but,"

"It's fine it was just a nightmare. It wasn't real. See," she said as she lifted their entwined hands. "You are holding on perfectly fine right now." He nodded and lay his head back down on the pillow and shuffled himself about. "Emma Swan," he began. "I think I may have fallen for you, and I will regret choosing my revenge over you every single day of my life." He knew if he hadn't have had his nightmare and if he wasn't so tired then he wouldn't have admitted this, but it was true and he wanted to let her know. Emma kept hold of his hand and slowly shifted her body so she lying next to his on his small bed. "I don't want you to," she told him in a small whisper. But he had already fallen asleep before he could hear what she said.