When Killian Jones opened his eyes, they glistened in curiosity. He was lying in his bed, rubbing the fatigue out of them. The last night had denied him much sleep, but he must have dozen off a little, he guessed, for he remembered bits of a strange but familiar dream that still hazed his mind with a little discomposure. As the clock went ticking, though, he forgot more and more about the details, which left him with nothing more than a weird feeling in his stomach. One thing, though, he failed to forget…

'Go find me, Killian… Save me…'

The words rang in his ears, like echoes from a long lost memory… It was the second time he had dreamed this dream and Killian had this odd misgiving that it wouldn't be the last time. He took a deep breath, his eyes lightly squinted and his brows furrowed. As the sunrays shone through his slightly soiled window, he recalled the reason of his virtually sleepless night. He had spent half of the past hours thinking about the mysterious woman he had seen the day before; both, in his dream as well as on the streets of New York City. 'How can this be?' he asked himself, over and over again. The more he thought about it, the more the visions in his mind blurred into a cloudy mist, shape shifting with every second that passed. The images in his head entwined with other patterns in his memory which led to a great uncertainty in Killian's stomach by the end of the night.

'What if my eyes just tricked me?' he thought. 'There's no chance it was the same woman. After all, it was just another dream, wasn't it?' But something in the depth of his chest didn't convince him to answer this question with a simple 'yes', leaving him uneasy and restless. Killian led out a deep sigh, a growl almost, rolling himself out of his bed. It was still early and he had plenty of time to get ready for work, so he decided to get out and get some fresh air (and lots of coffee). After a quick shower he left his apartment, still not entirely sure where his feet would take him…

—

Killian's arms rested on his thighs, his torso bent forward in a tense shape. Without even taking any note of it, his feet tapped to the ground, as if he was feeling a beating rhythm in them. He squinted his eyes slightly, as he saw several teenagers entering the school. Killian had fought his inner urge to revisit the crime scene, but he hadn't made it for too long. After circling the block about three times, he had finally sat down on a bench, right across the school. He wouldn't allow himself to think it out loud, but he was hoping he would see her again. The rational thinking part of his brain still forbade him to take this dream too seriously, but his intuition told him very differently. At the end of the day, it hadn't been the first time he had dreamed about a blonde woman. Even though he had seen her face only once in his sleep, he was still convinced that it had always been the same ghost that haunted his dreams. But how could it be? How was she alive? How was she part of his reality? But no, Killian shook his head, she must have simply resembled her. The more he thought about it, the more he grew certain about the fact that he had been way too far from her, anyways, to see her properly; he must have been mistaken. As his mind was still occupied with all of these different question marks, his eyes perceived the boy - being alone. And within the next beat of his heart, the young stranger was gone, entering the school. Killian felt a vague streak of disappointment in his chest. He sighed, smiling faintly and shaking his head again.

'Get it together, Jones,' he told himself, 'It was coincidence, nothing more. You're not living in a bloody tale, for God's sake!' And with that he arose from the bench, demanding his feet to bring him back home again.

—

It had been two days since Killian had last seen the blonde woman's face in his dreams and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it. His co-workers had made fun of him, telling him he looked as if he was trying to solve the meaning of life with his deeply furrowed brows and stern looks. Killian tried to smile it off, but maybe they weren't even that wrong about him… During lunch break he decided to take a little walk. His apartment wasn't far away from the museum and it wasn't unusual for him to eat at his own place, so nobody asked him when he was leaving. The truth was, though, that he wanted to visit the school, yet again. He couldn't help it but he felt this physical ache to see her once more. He just had to know, even though he was certain there wasn't any chance it was the woman from his dreams. When Killian arrived, he sat down at the same bench he had picked just two day before. His sweaty hands rubbed against each other, nervously, as he waited. Then, only minutes after he had arrived, he saw some students leaving the building; the boy wasn't among them. Killian felt his thin pulse beat behind his ears, his breath becoming heavier than usual.

'What the bloody hell?' he thought to himself, realizing the tension in his body. What was he doing here again? He couldn't believe he had actually come here, to do what exactly? See a woman he thought looked alike a blonde ghost from his dreams? Was he getting insane now? Killian started to grow very upset about his own behaviors and he was just about to get up from his place, when he felt a shadow near him. As he looked up to his right, he blinked in confusion. It was the boy. Without saying a single word, the young stranger sat down, next to him. Killian opened his mouth, but he couldn't make himself speak. The brunette boy just looked straight forward, still not talking, so Killian mirrored his gaze, turning his head back to watch the walls of the school building. A few seconds passed until the boy turned to him again, lifting his hand.

"Sandwich?" he asked. Killian looked at him, raising a brow.

"No, thank you," he responded.

"Really? It's super good, you know. My mom made it, she calls it her Thursday-Special," he smiled now. Killian returned the smile.

"Well, if it's the infamous Thursday-Special, I can't decline, can I?" The boy nodded, pleased with Killian's answer, before he parted his sandwich into two separate pieces. The youngster offered one of them to him and when their fingers touched, Killian felt a weird connection between himself and the little stranger, cutting off his breath for a second. But when the boy, clearly unaffected by the touch, returned his eyes to the school, Killian decided to do the same. He bit into the sandwich, and bloody hell, the boy didn't promise any nonsense! For a single heartbeat the marvelous taste of his small lunch made him forget about the reason why he had actually come here; but then the boy's voice returned his mind to the perplexing state of reality.

"Are you my dad?" he asked with a casual tone. Killian lashes fluttered.

"Wh-what?" The boy turned his head and looked him straight into his eyes.

"Are you my dad?" Killian eyes widened.

"No. I mean- no…" he shook his head "I-I can assure you I'm not, lad."

"Hm…" Killian spotted slight disappointment in his face.

"Why would you think that?" he asked, sincere curiosity in his voice. The boy shrugged.

"I don't know. Why else would you keep coming here, looking for me?" Killian swallowed hard; he had noticed. And even more importantly, the boy grew up without a father, just like him. Suddenly he understood the youngster's question, very well.

"No, I'm sorry." Killian pursed his lips, but the boy only shrugged again.

"It's okay, I guess. I was just hoping for a second…" Then he returned his head to meet Killian's gaze again.

"I'm Henry, by the way." Oh right, Killian realized, he hadn't even introduced himself.

"Killian," he said, offering him his right hand. Henry shook it before his eyes wandered to his prosthesis.

"What happened?" he asked. The delicate hairs on Killian's neck rose as a shiver went through his entire body. Killian remembered black dust and a faint exhale; he remembered a touch on his cheek and the sound of a blade cutting the cold air. He felt an ache in his wrist; the doctors called it phantom pain. His eyes hardened as they looked into the distance. Henry noticed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Killian blinked again, as if he was awakening from a daydream.

"No, it's… it's alright, lad. I actually don't really know. I found," he cleared his throat, "myself in the ER, one day, and it was gone. Nobody could tell me what happened, but seemingly…" Killian swallowed again.

"What?" Henry wanted to know but as Killian looked him into his face, he realized that he couldn't tell this young boy what they had told him, years ago; he couldn't tell him that it was a clear cut… that somebody must have actually cut it off. He couldn't curse him with the mercilessness of nightmares.

"Nothing," he just smiled. "Nobody could tell me what happened." Henry kept staring at his fake hand.

"I'm sorry," he almost whispered. Killian replied with an earnest smile.

"No worries, mate." A few more seconds passed and Killian noticed, that the boy was debating with himself whether or not to say what was on his mind. Then he finally sighed and parted his lips.

"I have to go back…" Henry sighed and Killian nodded. "Would you…" Henry returned his head to face him; to look him directly into his eyes, "would you, maybe, like to throw some balls at the weekend?" Killian raised his brow, his face reflecting bafflement.

"Um…" He honestly didn't know what to answer. But then he remembered the boy's question again… "Are you my dad?" Killian remembered what it felt like, being alone…

"Well, that depends," he answered, smiling at Henry, who looked nothing but confused.

"On what?" Killian bowed his head a little, his smile turning into a crooked one.

"Do you like dogs?" And then, like the sun coming out from behind dark clouds, the boy's face lit up, his teeth shiny and white.

"Yes!" was his answer and Killian nodded.

"Then it's settled. Saturday at Central Park?" Henry's eyes shone with happiness.

"Done! 3 PM at the Bank Rock Bridge." Killian approved, he spent most of his weekends by the lake, anyways. And with that Henry ran away, still wearing a smile on his lips.

—

As Killian walked to the Bank Rock Bridge, Murdock by his side, he was secretly hoping that Henry wouldn't come alone. Days had past and Killian couldn't stop himself from drifting away. At home, at work, at dinner, at nights, no matter where he was, she was on his mind. Like wind clearing a lake's surface from the nightly fog, he wished he could just push the thoughts away, relieving his head from this exhausting state. He took a deep breath and before he could even realize, Murdock was running. Killian opened his mouth, ready to call him back, as he recognized Henry. The boy was waving at him, a football lying alone in the grass, and when Murdock reached him, Henry instantly started to pet the dog with great passion and joy. Killian smiled, being glad about having Murray with him today.

"Hello, there," Killian greeted Henry and the boy replied with a big smile, still playing with the dog.

"What's his name?" the boy wanted to know.

"Murdock. But we also call him Murray."

"Murdock! Awesome name, what does it mean?" Killian blinked, his face puzzled.

"I… don't know. I've never gave it a thought, actually." The boy pursed his lips a little, but when he returned to find the dog again, it seemed as if he had forgotten about his question, already.

"Hey, Murdock! Nice to meet you!" The dog barked and Henry laughed, wearing the sweet shade of innocence in his ringing voice. Killian watched their careless play, sitting on a park bench across from them. He couldn't deny that he felt a little disappointed that the boy had come alone, but he was still delighted to see young Henry acting his age after he had seen great concern written all over his face during their last meeting. After a while, though, Henry ran closer to him to sit down next to his new friend, being breathless but evidently happy.

"Enjoying yourself?" Killian asked and Henry nodded, smiling a bright smile.

"Good," Killian returned the smile.

"I always wanted a dog but my mom keeps telling me I can't take care of a pet." Henry panted. "I'd be great with a pet!"

"I'm sure you would, lad, but I think you're mom only wants your best. Taking care of a dog is a huge responsibility." Henry shrugged, pursing his lips before he finally sighed.

"Yeah, I guess so…"

Then Killian cleared his throat, trying to sound casual when he asked Henry the first of many questions to come.

"You have no siblings to share the responsibility, I take it?"

"No, just me and my mom." Killian nodded.

"Must feel lonesome, at times."

"Yeah, sometimes it can be a little boring, I guess, especially when Walsh takes my mom out for dinner."

"Walsh?" Killian asked, foreboding mocking the back of his neck, already.

"My mom's boyfriend." Killian had guessed right, feeling a faint streak of resentment in his stomach.

"You like him?" he asked, acting casual again.

"He's alright. He likes my mom a lot and he makes her happy. That's what matters." Henry's answer made Killian raise the corner of his mouth, stunned about the old soul that was living in this young body. He kept looking at the boy for a second longer before he returned his head to watch Murdock chasing some squirrels.

"So," he said, raising a brow. "Why did you want to meet me here?"

"To spend time with you," Henry responded, but the raspy shade in his voice revealed that there was another, a better reason for this meeting. Killian's silence made Henry realize, that his answer didn't convince him, yet. Henry took a deep breath.

"I actually… I wanted to tell you something." It was as if Henry stopped breathing for a moment, but Killian didn't notice.

"And that is?" The boy's silence made Killian return his gaze to Henry, discovering his wrinkled forehead.

"You can tell me anything, mate," he said only a heartbeat later, Killian's voice soft and low now, trying to encourage his young friend.

"I'm worried you'd think I'm crazy, though."

"I promise you, I won't." What could it be that troubled this young fellow to this extent, Killian wondered. Something in the reflections of Henry's eyes reminded him of himself, Killian realized for a second, but the moment was gone before he had the chance to think about it any further. Henry only shook his head.

"No, you won't believe me. I haven't told anyone, yet, but…"

"What has changed?" Killian wanted to know and Henry found his gaze, looking him into his blue eyes, deeply and earnestly.

"You." A shiver went through Killian's spine.

"Me?" Henry swallowed, avoiding Killian's looks again.

"Yes… it's- it's complicated. I just, I need you to see something. Or you won't believe me." Killian raised a brow.

"What is that?"

"A book."

"A book?" Killian's confusion grew bigger with every second that passed by. "What kind of book?"

"You'll see when I show you."

"And why didn't you bring it with you today, then?" Killian thought he sensed slight inconsistency in Henry's words. The boy hesitated to answer.

"I can't show it to my mom, she doesn't know anything about the book. It's a secret." Henry almost whispered the last word. "I couldn't sneak it out without her noticing it when I left, earlier. It's pretty big, you know." Killian nodded again; maybe he was telling the truth after all.

"Would you meet me again?" Henry looked at Killian, hope in his big brown eyes. Killian sighed.

"When?" Henry smiled, his eyes sparkling.

"Tomorrow? Same time, same place?"

"And your mom?" Killian asked.

"She's with Walsh, tomorrow, she won't notice a thing." Killian genuinely didn't know if giving Henry hope with this was a good idea, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to break the youngster's heart.

"Alright, then," Killian returned Henry's smile halfheartedly, but when he saw into Henry's happy face, most of his concern was gone, already.

"Great!" the boy smiled, almost taking to himself, "Operation Cobra is on!"