A/N: These next two chapters started as one with a single POV... and it was hell to write. When I decided to split it into two chapters with two POV's, everything flowed. - I found a broken thread, several chapters after this, and I anticipate taking some time to work through this problem. I may or may not keep updating as frequently as I work through it. I post, least, 30 chapters from where I'm actively writing (for this very reason) so I have room to keep posting if it works out that I can. Wish me luck!
~Day 7~
Emma couldn't sleep.
She'd been tossing and turning ever since Belle succumbed to her own exhaustion, on the other side of Emma's bed. Emma couldn't help but think how beautiful, and peaceful the brunette beauty looked just laying on her side, sporting a small smile. Emma was glad to finally have a friend her own age… or close enough to it.
If so much hadn't been weighing on her mind, Emma would have been content to see her friend so blissful.
Emma rolled over, dozing out of sheer boredom, only for a few moments to her disappointment. Every moment awake was another moment her questions and those memory shards kept hounding her, as if to tell her something. She felt assaulted by her own mind.
Being alone with her thoughts was a scary place to be.
She tossed for hours, aimlessly chasing the sleep she knew she wasn't going to catch, finally deciding to hell with this before sitting up, looking around her room, suddenly feeling the weight of her situation.
Her family, Regina, Belle, all knew something that she didn't.
Captain Jones… he knew too. He always knew things.
They had, least, admitted it had to do with the missing day. Rather, he had, and they hadn't denied it. She was positive, if only she could straighten out those pesky pieces of memory, she'd know exactly what was going on. She felt she was on the verge of recovering those lost hours, like it was on the tip of her tongue.
Forcing the memories out wasn't working. Instead, it was driving her insane. She had to think of something else, anything else.
Why couldn't she remember?
She couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened. But what? And to who? Was everyone alright? Her family? The staff? The castle and people in general? She thought of her mother, and that haunted look in her eyes. She sincerely hoped Snow was all right. The woman had been through enough for one lifetime.
It was barely daybreak when she finally got out of bed, sighing in aggravation at her restless night. Surely the rest of the day would go to hell whether or not she fell asleep soon - and she was in no mood to lay back down and go through all of that again.
She mindlessly walked around her room, examining her things, quickly growing bored with herself. In frustration, she left the room to walk around the castle halls, completely forgetting to change into actual clothes.
The guards outside her door were not pleased with this development, grumbling to each other before following Emma, something she was not pleased with. She was too flustered to do anything about them, so she grumpily tried to ignore them.
After a few minutes of wandering, she thought of her mother again. If Snow could see her now - indisposed, in her night shift, publicly. A lesser woman than Snow might have had a fainting spell from the sight, but Emma decided her mother would likely laugh her all the back to her room to change.
She didn't feel like meeting her mother, or anyone else, dressed only in the thin fabric of her shift. She figured that getting dressed could help to ease her mind. Rolling her eyes at herself, she turned on her heels to go the way she came, confusing the guards at her quick turn around. She wondered why she hadn't bothered to dress in the first place -
She halted as something caught her eye through the window. Movement. She moved closer to it to get a better look. She realized quickly it was Killian, knowing few men who would venture onto his ship and even less who would wear that much black.
Gods, he was moving. Jumping off the ship, landing gracefully, and running at lightning speeds... She suspected he was heading in the general direction of the stables, carrying some sort of bag, or knapsack…
It dawned on her that he was leaving.
She swallowed, hard. In an burst of adrenaline, she turned again at the dismay of the guards, going after him. She had to. She couldn't explain it if she tried. She raced through hallways, down stairs taking three at a time before she simply rode the rail down, before bursting out of the castle, and across the grass, barefooted no less.
The possibility of his leaving sent a pang in her heart she did not want to address. All she could think about was making it to him in time.
In time for what?
She arrived several meters outside the stables just as he was leaving them on the back of Domingo. The sight of him in the first light of morning made her stop to catch her breath. God's, he was beautiful.
"Emma?" He gently pulled on the reigns. She ignored both his salacious smirk, as well as the long examination he took of her, from head to toe, lingering a bit on her breast. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest in a futile attempt to cover them, mentally kicking herself.
She suddenly wondered what the hell she had just done? What had overcome her? What was she doing out here? Why should she care if he was leaving? And why, for the love of Pete, hadn't she grabbed at least a robe first?
Because then you'd have missed him entirely. She hated the thought, because it was true.
Thank you for reading!