A/N: I am so sorry for the lack of posting. I have serious hang-up when it comes to finishing stories I'm writing. But I do not want that to happen to this one. I am determined to finish it. But it means that I'm struggling a bit and I want to do it right or at the very least not have it absolutely suck. I've also had some issues where the cannon plot of the show is starting to make me over-think parts of my story. But again, I've set up a different chain of events so there is only so much room for the cannon plotline. Thank you to everyone following this and for the reviews, I really am so incredibly undeserving of all your nice comments. Anyway, there are some parts of this chapter that I like, but other parts...eh. So please enjoy.

FOURTEEN

Hearts and Dreams

Above him lay the stars, bright and distant in a clean sky of navy and black. It was not the sky that Killian had come to know of Storybrooke, but it was one that he knew. He lay in a sea of grass and moss threaded in nostalgia of nights spent cradled by windy lullabies. So long ago…centuries since he had lay under the stars, fallen asleep in the grass…since he had been free enough to enjoy it. And with the serenity wove the loss. This was a scene from a time he where he was no longer welcome. Another facet of his past that wanted to shine in his memory but had been too smothered in dust and grime.

A breeze caressed his cheeks and even the scent of it brought him further into the dream. This could have been real. Even if he knew that it wasn't.

Content to let this vision play out, he waited. Counting stars as he settled his arms behind his head.

"It's pretty here."

He turned to the voice, startled. He had felt alone, but when he looked he could see her sitting just a few feet from him. Emma was cross legged in the grass, beaming a smile as she pulled on her shins. He knew her instantly, though her face was not the one he had seen leaving for New York. This was Emma without burden, without a past. This was the beauty that radiated from a heart untarnished. It was that part of her that shone in rare smiles and unshielded laughter. A part of her he had always known was there, just layered. Just buried. Here in this dream it shone for all the world to see. She rocked in place, still grinning.

"I said, it's pretty, huh?"

He was certain that if he had reached out to touch her he'd ruin the illusion. That his darkness would shadow her light. "Aye." He replied, but he was far from commenting on scenery. The smile she wore was real and unguarded. He'd never quite achieved to earn such a smile, not like this, but he was going to remedy that once he woke up.

Emma broke her stance as she stretched toward him and he nearly forgot to keep his distance. His reflex to reach out to her was quelled and he leaned away. Dreams were tricky things. Fragile. If you poked the wrong place, the image would ripple and shatter. Emma quirked her lips in an exaggerated frown.

"Where're you going, silly?"

"I'm not going anywhere, love." He assured her.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "'Kay…" She stuck out her hand and he stared at it with a tired smile. "What're you being so squeamish for?" She flipped her hand in front of him. "It ain't gonna hurt."

He licked his lips, glanced up at her stubbornly set jaw. "I'm not concerned about getting hurt—"

"Then what? Huh? Huh?" She stuck out her hands and began to crawl on her knees, coaxing him backward. "Scared cause I'm a girl? Scared my awesome'll rub off on you? Come on. Stop running and take my hand."

"Emma…you have to keep away, love. I don't want you to disappear." She stopped and in that frozen moment in their game of tag, he realized why she had turned this into a game. This unhurt, unbroken version of Emma was from so long ago…so far in her past. As this place held a time of his innocence, he was now seeing Emma's. And he saw so much of himself in her that he selfishly believed that it was meant to be. Kiss or no kiss he had never once believed that it'd work between them. He had seen their similarities but now he saw her as exactly what she was. The other half of a broken soul. The lighter better half of his darker, torn up soul.

"How do you know I'll disappear?" She cocked her head, hands on her hips. "Maybe something good'll happen. Or even nothing. But you can't know that it'll make me disappear."

"I don't know." He agreed. But he did know his dreams too well to let them shift into nightmares without a fight. "But I've some pretty damning evidence."

"It is 'cause you're not glowing?" She asked with a downward tweek of her lips. He looked at himself and indeed, he wasn't glowing but rather looked as if some of the color had been sapped from him. His clothes and skin were cloudy and hazy. When he looked back up Emma was alight like a beacon against the night sky. For several seconds he could only blink and stare in awe. She didn't seem impressed.

"I think you're dumb." She huffed and crossed her arms.

"I'm being cautious. Nightmares have a nasty habit of hiding in dreams."

"But what if it's important?" She argued as she stared at her open hand. "What if you have to touch my hand or that's what will make the nightmare?"

He was quiet for a second, before it occurred to him that this wasn't really Emma. His subconscious had done a convincing job of it, but in the end, it wasn't really her. "I've dealt with enough nightmares not to take that chance."

She threw her arms into the air with a huff. "You're…you're such a jerk idiot…I don't like you right now." She stuck out her tongue. Sitting back onto the grass she pursed her lips as she glared in his direction. "I'm going to have to try something else now. And it's your fault." Before he could respond he staggered sideways, a wrenching feeling spreading from his chest and knocking the wind out of him.

"Killian?" Emma stopped pouting and was watching him from her seat. "What happened?"

He caught his breath, shaking his head as the quick sting of pain dulled and eventually subsided. "I don't…" Dreams turning into nightmares. Though he didn't usually feel actual pain in dreams, not physical pain. But the thought was fleeting and quickly forgotten when his eyes fell back on Emma.

Her eyes had changed. They were no longer narrowed, but heavy. Her frown had slipped into a loose smirk and she seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. She still radiated warmth that he could sense even from a distance. And whatever had just happened was abandoned by both as he sat upright.

Emma rose to her knees, peering down at him as she inched forward. And, unfortunately, he understood instantly what her new tactic was going to entail. And if anything was going to work…

She had already snuck up on him, leaning over his face, but not touching. Her hair fell over her shoulders that he only just realized were bare except for the very thin straps of her top. In an instant she had backed him into the ground, pinning him as she hovered over him with parted lips and dangerous eyes.

"You don't know that will happen." She whispered, letting her tongue drag over her teeth as she dipped lower, but still not making contact.

She was everywhere. All the heat from her body was tangible around him, crushing him. He closed his eyes, but Gods that only heightened her scent as it stirred into his veins. He didn't know. He couldn't be certain. Just one kiss and maybe everything would remain okay.

He shook his head. If he touched her now this dream would have to become a nightmare. In this moment, she was just too pure, too wholesome for him to touch her.

"Killian…" She purred his name and smiled impishly. "…I really think…" Her breath fell along his neck and he winced. "…It'll be worth the risk." Without so much as grazing him she lifted her face level with his and waited. And there was only so much he could do when it was obviously her mission to touch him. Damn everything to bloody hell, but he really didn't have the will to stop himself. And in fact he was tearing into her mouth without much hesitation after that. His right hand curled behind her neck, he had expected immediate darkness. Emptiness. That she would morph into some horrible twisted creature of his own making. Her shrieks tormenting him for being so selfish. But that didn't happen. Instead Emma was parting her lips, leaning into him and raking her fingers down his shoulders.

When she finally lifted her head she was smiling. "See. I told you." She lifted his good hand and held it to her cheek. "See."

He had only seconds to register the glow traveling down his arm, following the light with his eyes as it revived all the color that had been washed from him before he was ripped into consciousness.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Killian blinked at his ceiling, his jaw clenched.

"Let's go. We've got work to do." Cora flicked her wrist and all the blankets and pillows vanished. She'd become increasingly spiteful since his misdirection with the map. And he was getting tired of seeing her face when he woke up. Unfortunately, locking the door didn't exactly keep her out. He hauled himself out of bed and began to put on his boots.

"You seem annoyed. Did I interrupt something?" She smirked knowingly as he stood up.

"What's so important, Cora?" His stare was piercing and he knew that he sounded disdainful. It was getting harder to keep the loathing from his voice.

He followed her onto the main deck where Regina was waiting. Apparently, his ship was just a free for all meeting place. Hell, why not get Rumpelstiltskin and three more witches, make it a party.

"Swan's returning." Cora said, her eyes intent. Fortunately, Emma's absence had made it easy to appear uninterested. He hadn't expected physical pain while she was gone, but there was a turning in his stomach that hadn't stopped since she'd left. It did not abate over time. And it did not put him in a good mood.

"How very good for you. What exactly do you want me to do about it?" He snapped.

"I am so glad you asked." Cora smiled and his eyes flew between her and Regina. Something was not right about that sentence. The way she had said it was too telling and suddenly he was on guard.

"You see," Regina continued in place of her mother. "I thought it would be an excellent idea if you were there to meet her when she arrived." Her ruby lips quirked into a smile.

Killian hesitated. "She won't want to see me. We're not exactly on speaking terms, or did you not notice?" Cora and Regina both stood between him and the gangplank. A strategic move. They were trying to corner him in. There was a knife in his boot, a precaution he had taken to once this whole charade had started. A knife was not going to be enough. He eyed the hilt of a sword stowed near some barrels by the mast. He made to lean against one of the barrels casually, aware that both of the witches were eyeing him sharply. Still, they didn't seem alarmed. This was typical of their conversations. Casual talking with polite civility while all the while planning how best to over-power, kill, out maneuver each other. Never take a liar's word at face value.

"Captain, do you really think we're that foolish?" Cora paced a few steps behind her daughter. Regina was going to be the body guard, an interesting move. But he still wanted to find out what their plan was for Emma before challenging them directly.

He gave her a charmingly crooked smile, acting nonchalant as picked at the end of his hook. "Cora, I doubt your intelligence as much as you'd doubt my resourcefulness."

"Yes. You do manage to keep going no matter how many angles you have to try. Three hundred years and you're still no closer to your goal than you were before. But your right, you've always managed to get yourself into the right positions." She laughed lightly before Regina was rolling her eyes.

"Enough, mother."

Cora narrowed her lips. "Fine. You're right. This has taken too much time anyway." A purple cloud enveloped her and Regina watched as the figure of her mother disappeared.

While they spoke, Killian had already grasped the hilt of sword, slowly sliding it from its sheath. He had just gotten the weapon free and was about to raise it when he halted. Cora's form had vanished and the body that replaced it left him frozen.

She shook out her shoulders, looking down over herself. "This should do the trick. What do you think, Captain?" Cora lifted her head and suddenly Killian was looking into his own eyes. Unlike a mirror, these did not reflect the horror of their owner, but were quite delighted.

"It'll never work." He said, his teeth clenched. "She'd never believe you're me." In the next second he was charging, grabbing Regina and twisting her so that her back was to him and the blade at her throat. "There we are, field's a bit more even now."

Cora was no longer smiling, which he took as a good sign. It means he had done something she hadn't anticipated. "What's your move, Hook? If you kill her then what'll stop me from going to Emma?"

His blood boiled hearing Emma's name come from Cora's lips so casually. "There are other options. For a start, you'll change back or," he brought up the arm that was coiled around Regina's shoulders, resting the tip of his hook against her cheek, "well, do I really have to spell it out for you?" He pressed into Regina's cheek and smirked when she flinched backward.

But Cora's smile returned. "You haven't given yourself any edge, you do realize that?"

He frowned, knowing that she had something else she was hiding from him. He fought to think of his next move, but Cora was already responding. She fished out a thudding object, red light escaping between her fingers. Killian stared at it, knowing what it was without having to ask. A small squeeze and the sword nearly fell from his hand. He winced and Regina snaked out of his grip. Realization came pouring into him all at once as he fell to his knees and the worst of it was that he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. Cora had been standing over him while he slept. The pain from his dream. She'd taken his heart. She was now in control.

"There. That's better." Cora stepped next to her daughter. "Here. And remember, we might still need him alive." She handed the muscle to her daughter, trading hands with his free will with sickening ease.

Regina rubbed at her neck, shrugging her shoulders. "Of course."

"Now. I'm going to get the dagger back for us." Cora walked over to Killian. "You two have fun."

When she met his eyes he lashed out, cursing as his arm stopped mid swing. Regina held up his heart, whispering into her hand. "It'll never work, Cora." He said through his teeth, straining to bring down his arm and slash away that horrible smile. "She's never going to fall for it. Emma's not stupid. She'll see right through you and," He wanted to smile, but with the mixing of anger it turned into a grimace, "I've been on the receiving end of her wrath. I've no doubt that you're going to lose this one. My only regret is not being there to do it myself."

"If she does figure it out, then I'll have to resort to plan B. Really, there's not much your girlfriend can do to stop me. People have been trying for years, so you'll forgive me if I'm not overly concerned about one brat with a hero complex." Cora said and with a twirl she was leaving. He watched her retreating, watching himself saunter over to the gangplank. He started to run after her, but his legs stopped moving. Then she was gone and he wanted to scream. To break things. To run the sword at his feet straight through her chest, heart or no. But all he could do was stand.

"Well. Why don't we get comfortable while we're waiting, hm?" Regina waved her arms and then they were in her house. "Go ahead. Take a seat." He sat. "I don't suppose you're hungry?"

He could hear the whispered words in his brain before they were leaving his mouth. "No." Her magic may control his actions, but it didn't stop him from saying the most sarcastic 'no' he could muster.

"Oh, what a shame. Well then, I hope you won't mind waiting in here while I go get something for myself." Her smile was maddening. His body's lack of response was exasperating. He closed his eyes to the fury, but it only heightened the image of Cora using his appearance to trick Emma. The idea of it made him violent, but for once he had no way of lashing out. All he could do was sit and stew, simmering in his rage.

But he had to believe that Emma wouldn't fall for it. That she would know that it wasn't him. Or…or he could face the question that dissolved some of his anger into something far worse…because he had to ask himself: did Emma still not trust enough to recognize an imposter?

A/N: Yay! You kept reading until the end. :) Seriously, thank you to everyone who reads this. The followers and reviewers and favorite...ers are the the lifeblood of this story. It's all for you guys that I keep going. Thank you. And until next time. Which hopefully won't take me a million years. :/