It happened three weeks after they returned from the Underworld. Life was beginning to settle into a routine. Killian had been approved as a second sheriff and had started last week. Henry was settling into this new life in a new house with a new member of his family. Most people would be nervous about their parents' reactions to moving in with their boyfriend but Emma was most nervous about Henry. It was a lot of change for him at once and while he had been part of Operation Light Swan with Killian, it was going to be an adjustment. She was relieved by the end of the week when she got home from work and found the two of them in the living room where Henry was teaching Killian everything he needed to know about the TV and video game console. She was even more relieved when he made plans to get breakfast with Killian before school in the middle of his week with Regina.

At night, she and Killian were having to suffer their own learning curve. It wasn't just that the two of them had nearly opposite sleep patterns. This was the first time in their relatively short relationship that they were sharing a bed regularly. They both had demons in their past (rather literally in his case) that frequented their dreams. Emma had quickly put a stop to him using rum as a means for aiding his sleep so that he would sleep heavily enough that he wouldn't dream. So far, sex seemed to be a rather effective method for keeping nightmares at bay and if they did wake up in the middle of the night, it was a mere matter of curling up closer to their True Love and they would be back to sleep within minutes.

For everything they had gone through to get here, life was pretty blissful. Until this morning.

Even before moving to Storybrooke and facing the world's most wicked villains, she had plenty in her past to keep her up at night. She knew that her hormones could sometimes lead to some difficult nights of sleep and this night in particular, every vile person she had ever come into contact with visited her and made sure to leave their mark.

She awoke with panic prickling through her, her nerves frayed with anxiety in a way they hadn't been in years. It was easier to manage anxiety when she had something to be anxious about; Dark Ones, villains trying to ruin her happiness, saving her boyfriend from the Underworld.

This morning, she had no reason to be anxious but it was there, pressing in on her from all sides.

She did what she always did when she found herself in this position: she hid behind her walls. These were walls of a completely different kind. They were tall and wide and impenetrable and she did everything she could to keep people from getting close to them.

When she got down to the kitchen and began packing up some leftovers for her lunch later that day, Killian reached out to wrap her into a hug and she immediately knocked his hand away, bumping into the oven as she tried to retreat.

"Love?" His eyes filled with concern. He could count on his one hand the number of times she had willingly rejected him touching her.

"Sorry, I just…" Her words faltered as she realized she had no excuse for him.

And the look he was giving her made it clear that he wasn't going to accept a lie. "Emma, whatever it is, you can talk to me."

She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing that she could shrink back into the oven so that she couldn't be found. Part of her had been dreading this conversation. It was inevitable for it to come. These days had happened enough in her life that she knew this conversation would come eventually.

"I'm just having a bad day," she began slowly. "I had a bunch of bad dreams last night and it triggered some old feelings for me. I have these days every once and a while and I just...I need to be alone."

"Emma," he sighed. He took a step closer and she slid away from him again, instantly eliciting hurt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out. "It's just better that I go."

"Wait, Emma, hold on."

The front door slammed closed, keeping him from pursuing her. He stood in the kitchen, stunned, for once at an utter loss of what to do for Emma. He couldn't begin to guess exactly what she was feeling and that was alarming. He contemplated calling her mother to ask if she had ever experienced this but quickly thought better of it. For better or worse, he loved how tough Emma could be even when that toughness worked against him. Everything in him wanted to chase after her and force her to talk to him but something about this mood she was in today had him pausing. When she said she needed to be alone, he believed that and he would let her be alone and do what she needed to do for the day.

He would give her until dinner. If she didn't come home at a normal hour, he would go find her. In the meantime, he had his standing Wednesday morning breakfast with Henry and then plans of mending one of the sails on the Jolly Roger with Smee.

These breakfasts had been Henry's idea when they had returned from the Underworld. The teen recognized that Killian was going to be around for good and he wanted to have his own relationship with him, not just be his mom's boyfriend. And on one particularly dark day in Camelot, Henry had confessed to Killian that he was as close to a father figure Henry would ever have. For his part, Killian tried to not appear overly excited at that endorsement until he told Emma about it later on, which earned him a hearty kiss.

When Emma did drag herself through the front door, he could immediately tell that she was feeling no better than earlier. Oh, she put on a chipper face and she smiled at him as she greeted him but he could see right through it. The day hadn't given her the time to fight her demons but rather she had the time to decorate her walls so that they wouldn't look like walls anymore.

"Wow, look at you, Betty Crocker," she said with a sideways smile that didn't reach her eyes.

He studied her, ignoring the reference that made no sense to him, and glanced down at the baking sheet of roasted vegetables he had set on the counter as it cooled. He chose to not say anything to her, afraid that whatever he did say would upset her further. He turned back to the stove and focused on stirring the pasta boiling there while also watching Emma out of the corner of his eyes. It wasn't lost on him how she moved around the lower level of their home with heavy shoulders and with measured steps, as if each movement required extra thought.

When they sat down to eat, she ate but made no effort for conversation. They were capable of eating in a companionable silence and had a few times. This was not a good silence. It made Killian squirm in his seat. It was taking all of his willpower to not interrogate her to know what was wrong. That would only make things worse. The last thing she needed now was to be pressured.

They cleaned up from dinner and she excused herself to go shower. He attempted to distract himself with a book downstairs until he heard the shower turn off overhead and he finally decided to drag himself up the steps, a mug of chamomile tea in his hand. Emma was already in bed with her wet hair pushed to the front of both shoulders and causing wet spots in the front of her robe. He set the mug down on her bedside table.

When he had finished getting himself ready for bed, he joined her under the new down comforter they had gotten a few days prior. She had the mug in both hands on her knees with her eyes fixed on it.

"Love, that mug will begin to melt if you look at it any harder," he warned lightheartedly. She shrugged, her walls down now that she was in bed and leaving him with a full view of the brokenness she had been hiding all day. Giving up on any more conversation and praying that she would be better by morning, he bid her goodnight and turned over on his side to go to sleep, not reaching out to touch her to still respect her boundaries but facing her so that he was clearly available to her.

It was several minutes later that she whispered into the still air of their bedroom. "I'm scared shitless." He lifted his head enough to curl an arm underneath it as he waited for her to continue. "Lately, all of my dreams have been about the darkness and everything I did. Last night it was different. Most days I can handle all of the panic and the anxiety - I guess you could call it that. I don't think much about all of the times I've had to fight for my life or watched someone I love do it but last night, it felt like all of that hit me at once as I realized just how tired I am of having to fight and protect not just myself but everyone I care about. I mean, the amount of times I've had to face death...It isn't normal and some days like today, I can't cope with that."

He sat up against the headboard and tentatively reached for her hand. She didn't immediately pull away, much to his relief. "Love, I know the burden and the toll it takes on a person to live as you have. You can share that burden with me."

"It's more than that. I feel like there is something actually wrong with me. When I think about you or anyone else touching me, all I can think about is someone who has tried to hurt me in the past. I can't separate the two and I don't know how to explain it, just that I am so scared all of the time and this morning I woke up feeling defenseless."

Tears had begun to fall down her cheeks in earnest now and he promptly slid closer to her. She reciprocated by resting her forehead against his shoulder. "You are safe here with me, I promise. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Being the savior, being on my own...it's too much," she said, voice muffled by his chest.

"Emma, you are never going to be alone again. Now that we're back here together, there is no getting rid of me, ever again. You're stuck with me, Swan." She let out a watery chuckle. "I love you. I love every part of you. You don't need to be strong for me. There is nothing I want more than to be able to carry the burden for you on the days when it is too much to bear."

She angled her head upward and for the first time all day, he could see all of her emotions clearly written across her face and his heart broke to see not just the pain there but the fear. "I love you too," she said, the words falling freely from her lips now. Those words conveyed more than just her affection. He could hear her gratitude and her acceptance in them. She snuggled further into him and the worry that had been wrapped around him all day unraveled as he pressed a long kiss to the top of her head.

It took a few days for her to shake out of her stupor. The next day, Killian joined her at work and made sure to intercept anyone's comments to her about her not seeming like herself or asking if she was okay. She was now wondering why she hadn't confided in Killian sooner. He was protecting her just as he said he would and by now she was learning that she loved being protected by him (though she would never give him the satisfaction of saying that aloud).

That night after they cleaned up for dinner, the savior and pirate sat on their new front porch furniture and enjoyed one of the last warm summer nights before September brought in rain and cold weather. Emma lazily used her magic to light a few lanterns stolen from the Jolly Roger that they kept on the railing of the porch to give them some light. As domestic as it was, she loved how there was this slow progression of combining hers and Killian's few possessions in the house. It was fun to buy new furniture and make those choices together but there was something special about them combining what they already owned.

From the front porch, they could smell the saltiness of the nearby harbor and see the pulsing light of the lighthouse situated in the bay. It lulled both of them into a trance as Emma tucked herself into Killian's side. It was there that she shared every bitter detail of the traumatic years between her emancipation and meeting Neal. She'd had to survive on her own and had made a living off of stealing and other petty crimes. This lifestyle had introduced her to all kinds of despicable people and had left her at the mercy of villains of a different sort.

Killian listened patiently, exercising an immense amount of self-control to not interject and let her continue to talk and share with him this part of her life that she had never told anyone else before. He saw an entirely new side of Emma that night. It was a side of her that existed before her armor, before she was the tough lass he had met in the Enchanted Forest. Somehow, seeing this new layer of her made him fall in love with her even more.

She fell asleep right there on the porch as if the act of expelling all of those memories had physically drained her. He snuffed out the lanterns and carried her up to bed. As he lay beside her, waiting to fall asleep himself, he studied her face and contemplated all that she had told him that night and he made a promise to himself, to her, to the entire universe and all of its beings, that he was going to protect her with everything he had.

The next morning, he came up with an idea for how he could always reassure her that she would never be alone. One of the first modern appliances he had mastered was the coffeemaker and he had learned that Emma hated drinking her coffee in a to-go cup but never had the motivation to go downstairs to get herself a cup before going through her morning routine. He recruited Henry to help him do some shopping online and a few days later, a box showed up on their doorstep containing a mug with the cartoon Captain Hook on the side.

He poured in the exact right amount of sweet creamer (which he found to be disgustingly sugary but his Swan wouldn't drink coffee without) and fresh hot coffee and then placed the mug on her bedside table while she slept. He resisted the urge to push her hair back from her face and went back downstairs.

When she did wake up, her eyes immediately landed on the mug and she squinted until it came into focus, a laugh bubbling out of her when she saw the picture on the side of the mug and her heart warming at the thought that the real life Captain Hook would do something so tender and kind. She happily drank her coffee as she showered and blew hair dry and then thanked Killian with a long kiss when she did get downstairs fully dressed and ready for the day.

The mug was there the next morning, and the morning after that, and the morning after that, and so on. Even when he worked a night shift and got home right around the time she would wake up, he didn't go to bed until he made her that cup of coffee. When she was pregnant several years later, he made a separate pot of decaf coffee so that he could still do it.

Decades later, after their children were fully grown and had children of their own, Killian was still leaving coffee for her in the morning.