Disclaimer: Same as always.
A/N: Looks like Clara isn't the only member of the Jones family who gets nightmares. The other day, for whatever reason, I found myself thinking about what would give Killian nightmares. The first thing that came to mind? The thought of losing another person he loves. Namely, any member of his family. And so this nightmare was created. There's a couple of things I need to mention. The first is that you'll note that Henry is not in his nightmare. I definitely believe that Killian would hate for anything to happen to Henry, but he didn't seem to fit well in this dream for some reason. That said, I've been getting the urge to write a oneshot about Killian and Henry and am pretty sure I will at some point. The other thing I have to mention is that this chapter comes with a warning. Killian's dream involves him losing one of his daughters. I feel like that would be his biggest fear. Losing Emma would be a very close second. But I wanted this dream to shake him up pretty badly and I'm not sure what would shake him up more. I know that this is a sensitive subject for a lot of people and I completely get that. There was a part of this that was really hard to write, even knowing that it's just a nightmare and obviously not real. So know that going in. I threw some daddy/daughter fluff near the end to lighten it up. And then Emma does her part to chase away his nightmare for good. This also features a character from Once that I've never tried to write before and hope I did him some justice. There's also some pure fluff oneshots coming, but in the meantime? It's Killian's turn to have a nightmare.
Rating: T for the implied death of a child and a bit of smut
"Where the bloody hell am I?" Killian muttered to himself.
The last thing he remembered, he was in bed with Emma fast asleep beside him with her head on his chest. He remembered absently stroking her hair as he began to nod off. And now he was who knew where and completely alone.
It was dark - so dark that he couldn't make out his hand right in front of his face, let alone see anything else. He frowned as he fumbled his way around, eventually feeling the tips of his fingers brush against what felt like stone. Groping his way along it confirmed that it was a wall. He turned so that his hook pressed against it and reached out experimentally towards the opposite side. Nothing.
He took one step in that direction and then another. This time his fingers again met with stone. A corridor, then. It was a start, though not a great one. Obviously, standing around wasn't going to do him any favors. He needed to determine where he was and to do that, he needed to go exploring. He struck out in the direction he was facing, figuring that this was as good a direction as any and started making his way down the corridor.
The stone was cool against his fingertips as he used it to feel his way down the corridor. There was a distinct earthy smell in the air which made him wonder if he was in some kind of cellar. The stone began to curve and the ground beneath his feet began to slope downwards. He nearly lost his balance at one point, but caught himself before he tumbled to the ground.
The earthy smell got stronger the further down he went. Where the devil was he? He was getting frustrated, but knew he had to stay focused. Surely this corridor had to lead somewhere. The ground leveled out for a time before he ended up banging his foot into something. He'd evidently ended up at the bottom of a staircase.
He went up, relieved to find the darkness starting to dissipate the further he went. By the time he reached the top of the staircase, it was still pretty dim but at least he could make out what was around him. This was a vast improvement.
Not that there was much to see. It was just another hallway and he headed down it. He soon came upon a door and, seeing no reason to do otherwise, went through it. And found himself outside. There was a small patch of grass that led into a forest.
It'd been quiet the entire time he'd been, well, wherever this place was. So quiet that he nearly jumped out of his skin as a bloodcurdling scream suddenly ripped through the night. This was immediately followed by a terrified cry for help that chilled his blood.
He knew that scream; knew it all too well. There was only one person he had ever heard scream like that. His sweet Clara.
"Clara?" Killian looked around, frantically. "Clara?!"
"Daddy!" Her answering shriek made him whirl around wildly. He couldn't see her anywhere. "Daddy, help!"
"Clara?! Where are you?!" Fear was coursing readily through his veins as he took off running into the woods in the direction her scream had come from. A couple of branches smacked him in the face as he ran, but he ignored the pain and kept running. "Clara!"
"Daddy!" If Killian thought his heart had been pounding before, now it seemed to double. For this particular scream had not come from Clara.
It had come from Catalina.
"Daddy! Help us!" she screeched. Bloody hell. Both of his daughters were apparently in danger and he couldn't find them. Just when Killian didn't think things could get any worse, he heard a sickening thumping sound. To be followed by a third voice crying out for help.
"Killian!"
Emma.
Killian didn't think he had ever run so fast in his entire life. He burst into a clearing and immediately felt his stomach drop to his knees at the sight that greeted him.
There were three cloaked figures with their backs towards him. Three skeletal arms lifted up with their pointer fingers and thumbs slowly squeezing together. And all three of his girls were suspended in mid air in a line, Emma on one end and Clara on the other with Catalina in the middle. All struggling to break free.
"Killian!" Emma cried out. For a moment Killian could only gape in sheer horror. His feet seemed rooted to the spot.
Hold on.
Killian looked down and saw a couple of black vines that had sprouted out of the dirt and begun wrapping themselves around his legs. A string of curses fell from Killian's lips and he reached for his sword.
Only to find it missing.
He cursed again, louder this time, and began hacking wildly at the vines with his hook.
"Daddy, help!" Clara screamed. Killian redoubled his efforts to escape from the vines, his movements becoming more and more frantic.
"Looks like you've found yourself in quite the predicament, dearie."
Killian's blood went ice cold at this new voice. He slowly looked over to find Rumplestiltskin standing in his full impish glory. "What the devil are you doing here?" Killian snarled. His eyes narrowed in fury as the Crocodile smirked at him.
"The question isn't what am I doing here, but rather what are you going to do about that?" the imp asked, making an elaborate gesture towards the Jones' women. "Especially when you're." He laughed that damned, insane laugh of his. "A bit tied up at the moment."
"Let. Them. Go." Killian growled.
"I hate to break this to you, dearie, but I am not the one doing that," the Crocodile informed him. "But I may be able to help. Or rather." A puff of smoke appeared between his hands and when it cleared, he was holding a sword. "This might be of some use."
"Give it to me!" Killian demanded, a furious hiss following as a third vine started trying to wrap itself around his hook. He yanked it free. "You loathsome -" The insult that had been on the tip of his tongue died as Killian took a good look at the sword.
"Recognize it, do you? Took you long enough, pirate," Rumplestiltskin sneered. The sword he was holding wasn't just any sword; it was Excalibur.
"I thought that got destroyed," Killian said, gaping at it.
"It's no ordinary sword." Rumplestilksin told him.
"Killian!" Emma shouted.
"Daddy!" Catalina shrieked, making the imp roll his eyes. He lifted his hand and made a sweeping gesture towards them. Killian's eyes widened as all three of his girls and their tormentors froze in place.
"What did you do?" Killian demanded.
"We need to talk," the Crocodile shrugged. "It'll be easier without all that pesky screaming going on. You can worry about them later, but for now I need to ask you a question. You miss it, don't you? Excalibur?"
"No," Killian said, firmly.
"No? What if I told you that this could help you save your girls?" That demented laugh again. "That got your attention, didn't it? You can't save them without it, dearie."
"Then give it to me, demon!" Killian made a grab for it, only to have Rumplestiltskin yank it just out of his reach.
"Not. So. Fast," he scolded. "Have you forgotten? What is it that I always say?" Rumplestiltskin waited a moment. "Magic always comes with a price. You use this." He lifted the sword. "And you'll have to be the one to pay it. So you have a decision to make. It's either you pay the price or all of your girls die horrible and painful deaths. It's up to you." He snapped his fingers and the scene before them unfroze.
"Which is it, pirate?" The imp asked, over the sound of the renewed screams. "It's time to make your choice."
"Daddy!" Catalina pleaded. "Help us!"
"Help, Da-" The word broke off into a strangled yelp. Killian's head snapped up in time to see Clara bring her small hands to her throat, her blue eyes wide in total panic. She was clearly fighting to breathe.
"Clara!" Killian cried. To Rumplestiltskin, he threw his hand out towards him and barked, "Give it to me." He didn't miss the evil smirk that appeared on the vile imp's face. "I don't care what happens to me. I have to save them!"
"Suit yourself." Rumplestiltskin handed him Excalibur. "But don't say I didn't warn you," he added in a sing-song voice.
Killian ignored him, using the sword to slash at the vines and finally free himself. He ran towards the hooded figures, letting out a battle cry as he swung the sword at them. Once, twice, three times. The third time was the charm; all the figures vanished with that fateful swing. The horrible magic that had held Killian's girls aloft disappearing, releasing them from their strange torment.
All three of the Jones women dropped to the ground, landing with hard thumps. Killian raced over to them, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to reach them. Emma and Catalina were very slowly moving up into sitting positions, but then he looked at Clara.
She was lying in a crumbled heap, not moving. "No," he whispered, dropping to his knees beside her. "No, please. Clara? Sweetheart, it's Daddy." He shook her gently, his panic rising as he got no response. "Clara, darling, please wake up. Please wake up for me." His voice broke.
No response.
"Clara, wake up!" His voice rose as a feeling of anguish joined his ever-rising panic. "Please! Wake up for Daddy." He shook her a little harder. "Wake up! Clara, wake up!"
Nothing.
"No." The word was full of sorrow. "No!" He leapt to his feet and rounded on Rumplestiltskin who was standing nearby. "You said that I would be the one to pay the price! That sword was supposed to save them! You said it would save my girls!"
"Well, what do you call them?" The imp asked, gesturing to Emma and Catalina who were huddled together.
"What about Clara?" Killian demanded, ignoring the tears that were streaming down his cheeks.
"I never said it would be all of your girls, now did I?" Rumplestiltskin clucked his tongue at him. "That." He waved his hand disdainfully at Clara's small limp form, "was your price."
Killian lunged towards him with a shout, but the imp disappeared in a puff of smoke. "You'll pay for this, demon!" He screamed. The sound of Emma and Catalina sobbing had him turning back towards them. Killian felt as though his heart had shattered into a million pieces as he once again fell to his knees by his youngest's side.
"Oh Clara. My precious, darling little girl." He gently drew her into his arms with the utmost care. "Clara." He began to weep freely as he cradled her close, rocking her slightly. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Daddy's so so sorry. I'm so sorry."
Emma stirred at the sound of Killian's voice. She wearily lifted her head to look at the clock on her bedside table. 3:35am. She rubbed her eyes and turned to scold Killian for waking her up. Only to realize that he was still asleep.
"I'm so sorry," he was mumbling. "Daddy's so sorry..."
Emma frowned as she brought her hand to his shoulder, "Killian." She shook him gently. "Killian, wake up."
"Clara!" He woke suddenly, causing her to pull her hand back in surprise. He sat up, looking around their bedroom with wild eyes.
"Hey," Emma said, calmly, sitting up beside him. "Killian, look at me." She drew his face towards hers with her hand. "It's okay." He blinked at her for a moment and she gave him a hesitant smile. Whatever he'd been dreaming about had evidently shaken him to the core. "It's okay."
"Emma." Now he pressed his hand to her cheek. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She reached up to smooth his brow. "That was some dream you had, huh?"
"A dream." He closed his eyes for a moment. "It was just a dream." He sounded as if he was trying to assure himself of that, even as he looked over her anxiously. "You're alright." He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
"I'm alright," she confirmed, wrapping her arms around him. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"It was awful," he told her. "I was in this dark corridor and then made my way out into the woods. Then I heard Clara scream and I - " He broke off suddenly, letting go and pulling away from her. "Clara!" He practically jumped out of their bed.
"Killian?" Emma asked, alarmed. "Where are you going?"
"I have to see Clara!" Her face twisted in confusion as he headed towards their bedroom door.
"Now?!" She asked, gaping at him. "Killian, it's the middle of the -" He was out of the room before she could finish her sentence. "Night," she sighed.
Killian, meanwhile, was racing to Clara's room. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his throat. There was a part of him that recognized that he was being completely irrational; it had only been a dream, for heaven's sake. He was in his own home, not in the woods. Not lost in some strange corridor. It stood to reason that his daughter was perfectly safe and asleep in her own bed.
But the dream had seemed so real. He could still remember exactly how her lifeless body had felt in his arms. He wouldn't be able to rest until he knew for certain that she was alright.
"Clara!" He cried as he burst into her room. Right away it occurred to him that he should refrain from doing that in the future. She had a hard enough time getting a good night's sleep what with her nightmares already and this seemed like a good way to trigger one. But then, at this particular moment he was far from logical.
He found her curled up on her side in her bed, facing the door with her arm wrapped around Jolly. The glow from her nightlight bathed her face in soft light. "Daddy?" Her voice was muddled with sleep as she blinked blearily at him. Killian nearly sank to the floor in his relief. Clara was safe. His baby girl was safe.
"Clara," he breathed her name. "You're okay."
"Daddy?" She repeated, sounding a little more alert now. Alert and confused.
"Yes, darling, it's me," he said softly, a pang of guilt hitting him over waking her up. "It's Daddy."
"Is it time to get up?" A small pout appeared on her face as he crouched down at her bedside. "I'm still sleepy."
"No, my littlest love." He reached up to gently brush her hair away from her sweet face. "It's not. I'm sorry I woke you. I just...I just needed to see you."
She studied him for a moment, her face filling up with concern as she did. "What's wrong, Daddy?" She sat up, setting Jolly down beside her before turning so her legs dangled off her bed between them. "Are you sad?"
"I had a bad dream, is all," he confessed, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Not only had he burst into her room in the middle of the night like a crazy person, he'd now gotten her worried about him.
"Like mine?" she asked, quietly. "Do you want to talk about it?" The question made a soft, surprised laugh escape from him at their sudden role reversal. How many times had he asked her that same question?
"I dreamed that you'd...gotten hurt." He chose his words carefully. "You and Mommy and Catalina. It scared me, but I'm alright now. I shouldn't have woken you up. Daddy's sorry, sweetheart." The words made him think back to his dream and he shuddered in spite of himself.
"It's okay," she replied, reaching out to touch his cheek.
"It is not," he argued, smiling at her. "You need your sleep."
"But you needed me," she countered, giving him a sweet smile in return that made him melt. "You help me when I have a bad dream. Now I'll help you."
"You will, will you?" He asked, feeling equal parts touched and amused.
"Uh-huh," she nodded. "I'll do what you always do."
"Which is what, exactly?"
"You say it's you." Her nose wrinkled adorably in thought. "But you know it's me."
"I do, yes." He rested his chin on his stump, delighted with her. "What else do I do?"
Unbeknownst to either of them, Emma had followed Killian to Clara's room. She now stood leaning against the doorway, a smile on her face as she watched them.
"You tell me it's okay," she said with a nod. "Then you give me cuddles until I feel better." She slid off her bed and put her hands on his shoulders. "And you tell you me you love me." She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's okay now, Daddy. It's okay."
Emma pressed a hand to her heart. It was such a classic Killian move; Clara was indeed her father's daughter. The thought filled Emma with so much love and happiness that it took everything she had to stop herself from ruining the moment by rushing in to hug them.
Clara, meanwhile, was resting her head on Killian's shoulder. "I love you, Daddy," she said quietly.
Killian held her close, overwhelmed with love for her. He once again found himself wondering how he'd gotten so lucky as to be the father of the precious little girl in his arms. It was something he'd wondered a lot over the years. Not just about Clara, but about Catalina as well. He placed a series of kisses on the side of Clara's head. "I love you, my darling," he said as he closed his eyes. He wasn't much for prayer, but he found himself saying one of thanks and gratitude for his Clara. "Daddy loves you so much."
"Clara?" Killian asked softly. He'd been reluctant to let her go, still needing the assurance that she was okay. His nightmare was still all too vivid in his mind. So he'd begun rocking her gently, trying to soothe her back to sleep. "Clara?" This time her name came out in a whisper.
"She's asleep." He jolted ever so slightly at the sound of Emma's voice. "Sorry," she whispered as she knelt beside him. "I couldn't help watching."
"It's okay," he assured her, taking care to keep his voice soft. He stood, holding onto Clara as he did so before carefully shifting her in his arms so he could put her back in her bed. He grabbed Jolly and set the stuffed duck by her hands, smiling when she hugged it in her sleep. He then pulled the covers up around her and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered. He gave Emma a sheepish smile as he turned to face her. "Again."
Emma let out a soft chuckle as she grabbed his hand. "Come on." She led him out of Clara's room and waited while he carefully closed her door. "Think I need to get you back to bed too."
"Give me a minute, would you, love?" he asked, slipping his hand out of hers and crossing the hallway to Catalina's room. The panic from his dream had mostly faded, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep until he checked on Catalina. This time though, he took care to ease the door open.
Catalina was lying on her side facing her window. She, too, slept holding a stuffed animal - in her case, it was a stuffed puppy that she had named Cinnamon. She actually had two stuffed puppies that she slept with on her bed. The other was an adorable brown one named Cocoa. The family's general fondness for cocoa with cinnamon sprinkled on top had influenced the naming process.
Thinking about that made Killian smile as he walked around her bed towards her. Poor Cocoa lay abandoned on the other side of her bed. He crouched down by her side. Like he'd done with Clara, he reached up to gently brush her hair from her face.
"Daddy?"
'Bloody hell', he thought with some amusement. He still felt guilty for waking Clara and had hoped that he wouldn't wake Catalina as well, but luck was apparently not on his side.
Then again, as he watched her peek at him with her mother's eyes, he found himself thinking the opposite. Seeing his girls safe in their beds was comfort enough after that dream, but getting to look in their eyes was even better. Even if the late hour made him feel bad about it.
"Yes, sweetheart. I'm sorry I woke you," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to."
"S'okay," she said sleepily. She rubbed her eyes and peered at him more closely. "Are you okay, Daddy?"
"My goodness." He shook his head. "How is it that all my girls know when something is wrong with me?"
"You're something of an open book to us, Daddy," she answered, making him grin. It was something that he'd said to all of them at some point; guess it was only a matter of time before one of his daughters said it back to him. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened, lass. It was only a bad dream. I just had to make sure that you were okay," he told her. "That's all."
"I'm okay," she assured him with a yawn.
"I'm so glad. I love you so much, Catalina," he said, tenderly. "You know that, right?"
"Aye," she replied, making him chuckle. Her lips turned up in a mischievous smile. "I love you too, Daddy." She yawned again.
"Okay, I think you need to get back to sleep. As do I. I'll see you in the morning, alright?" He asked.
"Alright," she agreed. "Night Daddy."
"Goodnight, love." He leaned in to kiss her temple. "Sleep well."
"You too," she murmured. He smiled as her eyes closed, taking a moment to say a prayer of gratitude for her as well before getting up and slipping out of her room.
Emma had waited in the hallway for him and now smiled as he closed Catalina's door behind him. "Everything okay in there?"
"Yes." Looking at her now had his heart speeding back up as the image of his three girls being suspended in midair flashed in his mind again. He gave his head a hard shake in the hopes of dislodging it. "I, um, accidentally woke Catalina up too. But she's sleeping now."
"Okay," Emma said, hesitantly. Her brow furrowed as she studied him. "Are you okay now?"
"I'm not entirely certain," he answered honestly. He shook his head again, frustrated with himself. The dream was well and over, but it seemed to be lingering. Looking at his wife, it hit him that there was probably only one thing that could drive the memory of his nightmare away.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he pulled her into his arms and kissed her before she could. "I love you." He eased back to look deeply into her eyes with an intensity that took her aback. "Gods, I love you so bloody much." He kissed her again, more thoroughly this time.
"Mmm, I love you too." She was breathless when they pulled apart. She framed his face with her hands. The way he was still looking at her had her thinking that he'd drill a hole in her head. "That dream really did a number on you, didn't it?"
"Aye, it did. It was so real and I don't think it's going away anytime soon," he confessed.
"Tell me how I can help," she urged him, worried and wanting to make him feel better. She watched his tongue flicker to the corner of his mouth as his eyes flickered down to her lips and back up again. She caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. "How can I make it go away?"
"I know it's the middle of the night and you probably want to go back to sleep, but." His voice had gone rough. "I need you, my love. I need to lose myself inside you, please." Now his voice broke as he heard the echo of her screams from his dream in his head. "Let me make love to you, Swan."
Emma didn't give him a verbal response, instead opting to brush her lips against his as she slid her hands to his shoulders and then down his arms. She gently took hold of both hand and stump, letting her fingers lovingly caress his stump before releasing it. She turned, keeping his hand in hers as she lead him back into their bedroom.
Pausing to let him close their door, Emma then towed him over to their bed. He turned her back towards him, their mouths naturally finding their way to each other. They fell back on their bed where their nightclothes were slowly discarded. Their lovemaking was mostly silent, punctuated by the occasional sigh or moan.
Killian seemed determined to cover every inch of her body with soft kisses and she was perfectly content to let him do so. It was as if he was trying to drown out the remnants of his dream with tenderness. He brought her right to the edge a couple of times only to pull back right before sending her all the way over. It was the sweetest kind of torture. It wasn't until Emma half whispered and half whimpered a "Killian, please," that he let her go over, his head buried between her thighs. His hand found hers while he gently licked her down from her high.
He kept her hand in his as his mouth worked its way back up her body to where he whispered an "I love you," against her lips as he pushed himself inside her. He locked his eyes on hers as he began to move, slowly at first. He gradually built up speed as she clutched at him with her free hand, her nails digging into his shoulder. He felt those last traces of fear disappear as he repeatedly thrust his hips against hers and back again; his fears were no match for their love.
No match for Emma and who she was: the savior. His savior. His wife. His lover. His best friend. There was no amount of darkness that she couldn't chase away. She was the only thing that mattered to him right now. His Emma and the way she made him feel. He managed to hold on until she had climaxed and then, finally, let himself go.
Afterwards, Emma snuggled up to him and began idly tracing patterns in his chest hair, still wanting to soothe. Now her hand movements began to slow as her fatigue caught up with her.
"I love you," she told him, turning her head to press her lips against his chest. "Go back to sleep. I'm okay." She yawned. "Our girls are okay. Sleep."
"As you wish." He placed a lingering kiss on the top of her head. "I love you, Swan." He stayed awake for a little while after she had fallen back asleep. Giving her another kiss, he found himself sending up yet another prayer. This one for his wife.
Before he slowly drifted off back to sleep, he found himself making a solemn vow. Or, more accurately, renewing an old one. It was something he had vowed when he made Emma his wife and at the birth of both of their daughters. He would love his girls to the best of his ability and he would always strive to make sure they knew it. And with that vow of love came a vow of protection. He would keep his girls safe from anyone or anything that might harm them. May heaven help anyone who tried.