Chapter 28
"Bedtime, Ava." Emma said as she flickered off the TV later that night.
Ava pouted. "Not tired." She said stubbornly before yawning hugely.
"I'm sure you're not. But that yawn says otherwise." She lifted Ava up off the couch and into one of the beds in the room they were staying in for the night. Emma expertly tucked the blankets up to Ava's chin, just the way she liked it, being sure to slid her baby blanket in under the comforter. "And here's Cinnamon."
"Wait." Ava tugged on Emma's sleeve, stopping from her turning off the bedside lamp. "Read me a story."
"Sure. From what?"
Ava pointed at the book sitting atop the desk. "That book."
Emma looked in the direction Ava was pointing. "Henry's book of fairytales?" Earlier, before they'd dropped Henry back off at Regina's, Henry had given Ava his book.
"Are you sure, kid?" Emma had asked. "I know how important it is to you."
"Yeah." He had replied. "But I think I know someone who could use it more than me." He said, handing the book off to the little girl, winking at her.
"Thank you." And then they'd hugged tightly before Henry exited the car and went into his house.
"Yep." Ava answered. "Read me a story."
"Alright." Emma opened the book and made herself comfortable next to Ava. "Which story?"
"Dis one." Ava pointed at...the story of Snow White. Wow. Sometimes Emma wondered if Ava and Henry were related or something. They could be so similar. She started reading, slowly going through the now familiar story as Ava pored over the pictures.
"Gwandma." She said, pointing at the picture of Snow White on her wedding day.
"Right." Emma laughed. "Because Snow White is my mother. Did Henry tell you that?"
Ava ignored her question. "Gwandpa."
"Wow. You're just like Henry." Emma turned the page to where Snow White and Prince Charming were holding their newborn daughter. She started to read but was cut off by Ava.
"Mommy." Ava pointed at the drawing of the baby. "That's Mommy."
Emma blinked. Had she just heard correctly? "What did you say, Ava?" She asked, her voice a strangely high pitch.
"Mommy!" Ava repeated.
Wait. If Ava thought that her mother was the little baby in the picture, aka the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming or Mary Margaret and David that would mean that Emma was her mother.
Her head started to spin. Maybe this is why she'd felt so connected to Ava. Why the lady at the store had said they'd looked alike. But there was no way. No freaking way. If she had another kid she'd surely remember. "T-that's your mom?"
Emma shook her head. She was being ridiculous. There were plenty of people named Emma. And it said, clear as day, in the picture of the baby blanket that the baby was named Emma. Ava was just associating someone named Emma with the woman she'd been spending time with who also happened to be named Emma.
Of course, Ava couldn't read yet. But that was the only explanation that made sense.
"Read." Ava whined, shifting impatiently around in bed.
"Mmm. Sorry." Emma continued reading, turning the page but she couldn't shake this weird, unsettled feeling inside. "And he placed the baby inside the wardrobe, knowing that she was their last hope."
Suddenly, Emma found herself no longer in her room at the B&B. She was sitting on the couch in a cozy looking apartment, the book of fairy tales on her lap and a younger looking Ava snuggled next to her.
Killian turned off the light in the kitchen and sat down on Ava's other side. "Still reading from that novel, I see."
Emma shrugged. "What can I do? She loves it."
Outside the room, Emma could hear Granny talking to someone. Ruby, probably. They were arguing, as usual.
"Hey, Av. Guess what. Your mom's in the book too."
Ava looked up at him, confused. "She is?"
"Aye." Killian reached down and pointed at the picture of Snow White and Prince Charming's newborn. "See? That's your mother."
"But dats a baby."
Killian chuckled. "That's your mother as baby, Princess."
"All I need is for you to work Saturdays!" Granny was shouting. "It's not that big of a deal!"
"Why's Mommy in da book?"
"Because, Ava, she's a princess too. Just like your grandparents. And a bloody hero as well."
Emma wrinkled her nose and threw a pillow at him. "Shut it, Hook."
Ava waved her hand in front of Emma's face. "Emma!"
Killian just winked. "You know I'm right, love. I'm always right."
"What?" Emma gasped as she blinked, snapping to attention again, allowing her surroundings to come back into focus. "Sorry. I must've dozed off." As if to confirm her statement she yawned. "Ok, that's enough storytelling for one night. Bedtime." She turned off the light and smoothed the covers under Ava's chin. "Good night."
"Good night." Ava replied, her eyes already closing.
As Emma settled into the other bed, her thoughts raced wildly. What was that vision she just had? Probably a product of being overtired. They had gotten up pretty early and it was a busy day.
"Oh my God." Emma gasped as she took in her reflection in the mirror. "What am I doing?"
"What's wrong?" Mary Margaret asked, coming around towards her daughter. "I thought you were ok with this dress."
"It's not that." Emma brushed her off. "I mean, not entirely."
"Then what is it?"
"This!" Emma gestured wildly at herself. "This dress, the hair, everything!"
"Calm down." Mary Margaret said soothingly. "You're just nervous. It's perfectly normal."
"I feel like I'm about to puke." Emma ranted, pacing rapidly around the small room. "I can't breathe. I can't do this. What was I thinking, saying yes?!"
"Because you love him." Her mother pointed out. "And he loves you. And despite how nervous you are, you know this beyond a shadow of a doubt."
Emma looked at her. "But what if something goes wrong? Like with…" She couldn't bring himself to say Neal's name, having this pathological fear that that would jinx everything. "You know."
"That's not gonna happen."
"And how do you know? You're not exactly an expert on guys. You've only ever really been with one. One night stand with Whale not counting."
"Because I just do. Look, despite everything that's happened there has been one constant. Killian. And God knows how you've treated each other."
Emma laughed despite herself. "True."
"Accept that he's here and that you're happy together. And everything will be fine. Killian may be a pirate but you know he's so much better than that."
Emma took a deep breath. "Ok."
"Better?"
"Yeah." She looked nervously at her mother. "I think I'm ready."
Much too soon later, Emma was walking down the aisle set up on the deck of the Jolly Roger, her father's arm looped through hers. Half of her wanted to take off and run away as fast as she could but the other half was filled with elation that this day was finally here. All around her people were smiling and crying. Even Regina was smiling.
And suddenly she found herself facing him. He wore his old Navy uniform, a far cry from his usual leather getup. But true to his form he wore traces of black around his eyes. Some things never changed.
Her heart started to pound as everyone sat down. They were doing this. They were really doing this.
"Hey." He whispered. It was like he'd sensed her apprehension and was attempting to distract her.
"I don't think we're supposed to talk during these things." Emma responded.
He shrugged. "It's our wedding. Who cares?"
"Still. It's tradition."
"You look beautiful, Swan." He whispered, a look of awe crossing his for once clean shaven face as he took in her simple but elegant white dress.
"Don't sound so shocked." She fired back automatically. She couldn't help it, it was part of their nature.
A fake wounded expression crossed his face. "A simple thank you would've sufficed."
"Thank you." Suddenly, she felt a lot better. How could she have wanted to run? Everytime she looked at him her heart just filled with so much love. "You don't look so bad yourself."
"Of course."
A blur of words that she didn't really pay attention to and then he was placing the ring on her finger. He hoped he couldn't feel the tremble of her hand as he did so.
"Any last words before you become Mrs. Killian Jones?"
She scoffed. "In your dreams. I'm keeping my name."
Suddenly she noticed that it was quiet. Too quiet. Oh, right. They were supposed to kiss now. Well too bad. They could wait. She wasn't done sassing Killian yet.
"Not the traditional type are you?" He snickered.
"You know me better than that."
"Aye. That I do." His eyes shifted from side to side. "Why's everyone watching us like that?"
"Because, stupid, we're supposed to kiss now."
"Really. Well I've never been to one of these bloody things before so excuse me for being ignorant."
Emma rolled her eyes. Suddenly she couldn't wait any longer. "Hey Killian?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up and kiss me already."
He grinned, his lips already finding his way to hers. "As you wish."
Emma bolted up in bed, her heart pounding wildly as she gasped for breath. What in the hell had she just dreamt about?
Her and...Killian. Getting married? Where had that come from?
Calm down. She told herself. It was just a dream.
But marriage? Why that? Out of all things...why their wedding?
Maybe it was brought on by the fairy tale she'd read to Ava earlier. She'd gone over the story of Snow White and Prince Charming's wedding day so she probably just associated that with her budding relationship with Killian.
Yes, that was it. Just a combination of something she'd read and something that was occurring in her life.
Then why had it felt so real, so tangible? Like she'd actually experienced it? Not just a dream but more like a memory?
What was happening to her?
The next morning, she was weirdly jittery, as if she'd had too much caffeine. She could barely look at Killian without blushing.
"What's wrong?" He asked. "You seem a little agitated."
"Nothing." She brushed him off. How could she tell the guy that she had a dream about them getting married? "Just tired. Didn't really sleep well." She said. It wasn't exactly a lie. She did have trouble falling back asleep after waking up from that dream.
He knew she was lying, knew it by the way he narrowed his eyes. But thankfully he let it drop. "I can drive back if you want."
"Ok." She agreed, handing him the keys.
On the drive back, she curled up against the door, tucking her legs underneath her, resting her head against Killian's coat, which he'd insisted she'd take. Such a gentleman. Emma closed her eyes, trying to relax, breathing in the comforting scent of his coat and letting the gentle bump of the road carry her into oblivion.
She was running alongside Regina, Mary Margaret and David at their heels.
"You don't even know where they're going." Mary Margaret panted.
"Doesn't matter." Emma replied tersely. "I'll track them down in hell if I have to."
And then they saw it. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach as she spotted Henry and the two asshats, Greg and Tamara, dragging him towards the water. They threw something down and a portal started to swirl.
"Henry!" Emma took off, sprinting as fast as she could towards them. But it was too late. They were gone. She was about to jump in when a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, effectively stopping her.
"No!" She cried as she fought against David. "We can't just let them take Henry!"
"HENRY!" Emma cried as she sat upright. Killian's coat slid down onto the ground as she looked wildly around. Where in the hell was she?
Killian cursed and swerved, managing to remain on the road. "What's wrong?" He glanced at her, concern written all over his handsome face.
Emma took in the leather beneath her denim clad legs and the zoom of the scenery outside the window. Right. She was in her car. Driving home after visiting Henry.
"Love?" He asked in his accented voice. "Is everything ok?"
"Hmm?" She murmured absently. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a dream." She said as if convincing herself. Just a dream. Henry was safely back in his house in Storybrooke. "It was so weird." She took a deep breath, taking a sip of water. "I was running near the docks in Storybrooke with Mary Margaret, David, and Regina of all people. And these people kidnapped Henry." She paused, waiting for Killian's response. But much to her surprise he was quiet.
"Killian?" She turned to look at him, startled to find that a look of intrigue had crossed his face.
"These dreams." He started. "Do they happen often?"
"Um, I don't think so." She responded. "I mean I had one last night. But that's about it." She didn't mention the vision she'd had while reading to Ava last night. He'd probably want to have her committed or something.
"What was the one last night about?"
"Uh, I'd really rather not say."
"That bad, huh?" He teased.
"You know, normally I'm not one for this psychobabble but I can't help thinking. What do these dreams mean?"
"Well, Swan, people do say that dreams can be memories of a past life." He suggested.
"A past life, huh? Then why were the people in the dreams identical to the ones in my life right now?"
"Then maybe something forgotten? Either way you owe it to yourself to find out."
"They're just dreams. A manifestation of my mind."
He clucked his tongue. "Ah, but how can you be so sure?"
She squinted at him. What was up with his quizzical little comments?
"You should get some rest." Killian suggested when they arrived back home. "I'll prepare something for dinner."
"I just took a nap." Emma argued.
"Yes, but I doubt it was very restful." He practically shoved her towards her room and shut the door.
Emma sat down on the bed. Why was he so eager to have her sleep? Men. They were so weird.
She wasn't exactly eager to have yet another crazy dream. But part of her was curious about what else her subconscious could come up with, so she stretched out and closed her eyes.
It was dark and raining, and yet another chaotic scene had unfolded before her. Someone had driven into Storybrooke, Gold was freaking out, Belle had lost her memory, and...was that Hook lying on the ground?
"Hey beautiful." He choked. "I'm here, I didn't think you notice."
Emma bent down next to him. "Your ribs are broken." Though she should be mad that he'd turned up and was here to cause problems, all she could feel in that moment was concern. He looked terrible, his face all red and bloody but she couldn't help but think about how, well, attractive he still looked.
He and the stranger were loaded into an ambulance. A blur of lights flying back and suddenly they were in the hospital.
"Hide him." She said hurriedly. "Find a room and hide him." If anyone asked, it was because Hook presence would scare people. But what she knew deep down and didn't want to admit was that she didn't want Gold finding him and killing him.
Her dream shifted. She was holding a sword in her hand, Killian facing her. Behind her, Mary Margaret and Cora were fighting. Suddenly she found herself lying on the ground, her sword pinned against his hook.
"Normally with a woman on her back I'd prefer to do more enjoyable activities." He licked his lips. "But with my life on the line I'm afraid I have no choice."
Emma had to suppress an eye roll. Always with the innuendos. Her hand searched among the ground and then her fingers closed along the cold metal of the compass. Yes! Got it.
"Why would you do that?" She huffed. "When I've already won?" And then she was punching him and he collapsed.
With a smile of triumph she turned around. "Now let's go home."
Emma's eyes flew open. She wasn't entirely surprised to find that her heart was pounding yet again. That last dream had been pretty intense. Where had that come from, though? Sword fighting?
And referring to Killian as "Hook"? The only plausible explanation she could come up with was that Ava was starting to influence her with her insistence that her father was a fairytale character.
She exited the room to find Killian cooking something yummy smelling while Ava played with her dolls on the floor.
"Hey." She approached him from behind. "Mmm. Watcha making?"
"Something so simple even that you can make." He responded. "Chicken. So did you have another dream?"
"Yeah, actually. It was even weirder. In the first one you'd just been hit by a car by the town line in Storybrooke. And then in the second one we were fighting with swords, of all things."
"Really." He reached for a wooden spoon and dipped it in the pot. "Try this."
Emma leaned forward and licked the spoon. "Mmm. That's good."
"Thought so."
"Why don't you sound surprised?"
"That my cooking is good? Because I know it is."
"No. That I had a dream about us fighting. With swords. In what appeared to be some medieval land."
He shrugged complacently. "Doesn't seem too surprising to me."
She placed her hands on the counter. "And why's that? Fight with a sword lately?"
"Maybe." He reached over and turned off the stove. "Perhaps these dreams you've been having, they are an indicator of something you've lost. Or something you've forgotten."
"That's...impossible.
"Is it?"
"Yes." She said firmly. "If there was this whole other part of my life that existed I think I'd know."
"Well how else can you explain them then?"
"I don't know. Maybe I've been spending too much time with Ava. She does have a thing for fairy tales."
"If you say so."
"I mean, it has to be that. Because nothing else makes sense."
Author's note: Yes, nothing makes sense except for the truth.
Ok, so my two year fanfic anniversary is coming up and for that I will be doing something special, so stay tuned.
