Killian's skin touched wet sand as a cool breeze gently stroke his cheek. While he inhaled the fresh air, the back of his tongue was able to taste a hint of something that felt so familiar… so secure… and as his ears heard the waves crushing against the shore, he realized that it was salt that floated threw the air like fairy dust in an enchanted forest. He noticed just then that he was moving, his feet almost flying above the sand. Killian closed his eyes, filling his lungs with the pleasant burn of the salty air. Without the insight of his destination, he trusted his feet with his unknown fate. Then suddenly, he heard a silent hum of a delicate voice. Killian opened his eyes when his feet stopped abruptly to the whispered sound that touched the air. After his eyes had adapted to the bright daylight, which had blinded him for a second, he could see that he had reached a cliff. He heard the waves breaking at the bottom of the crag and a shiver ran down his spine, before he noticed a woman, sitting on the top of the rock. Her hair had a golden shimmer and as he took a closer look, he realized that she was combing it. Killian hesitated for a moment that lasted as long as a deep breath, but his curiosity won over his wariness; he took a single step forward but somehow the mysterious woman heard his silent pace and turned around, slowly. Startled by the unexpected movement, Killian gapped his mouth, yet nothing but a dry exhale escaped it. He waited for her to say a word, to question his presence, to make him leave, but she spoke not.

Instead, she only looked at him, sadness gleaming in the jade shade of her gaze. Such deep sadness, Killian thought… he had never seen greater dolor. But with his next heartbeat, a hint of a memory scratched at the back of his head. His skin shivered as he felt the shadow of snow and the echo of wind. The woman's eyes were still locked on him and just when she slightly opened her mouth, a glimpse of hope on Killian's face, the woman was in chains, suddenly emerged from nowhere. The chains pulled at her and even though Killian's instincts told him to help her, he couldn't; he failed to move an inch. The more he tried, the heavier his feet became which forced him to watch the chains dragging her down. She didn't fight them, though; it seemed as if she had surrendered to her fate, a long time ago… and just before the chains pulled at her for a very last time, two words left her mouth that traveled their way to Killian's ears -

"Save me".

As soon as she fell off the cliff, Killian was able to move, again. He ran to the edge of the rock, breathlessly, and when he saw her forsaken body being devoured by the dark sea, he felt a terrible wrench in his chest.

"There is no hope for a man of the sea, for the sea is sable and relentlessly," his memory quoted from a book.

Killian fell down to his knees, struggling for air, while the shock ran through his bones. He felt the guilt in every fiber of his body. He hadn't been able to save her and he wouldn't forgive himself. Killian's nails dug into the hard ground and a hot salted tear fell from his eyes. As he blinked away the mist that clouded his sight, he saw her blonde hair disappear in the waves, but when Killian gasped just one more time, it was for a different reason. The water had turned to a poisonous green color and with every second that passed, the bilious waves grew bigger and bigger. Killian got back up to his feet and he had nothing more than the ticking of a clock to take a step back, before a giant wave buried its only witness beneath it.

Killian felt the wetness all over his face and when he opened his eyes he saw a pair of big brown eyes staring at him.

"What the bloody hell?" he pushed away Murdock's face out of his sight. The dog seemed pleased with his technique to awaken his friend.

"I think someone needs to take a walk," Killian raised a brow and Murdock responded with a low squeak, covering his nose with his paws. The sad puppy made Killian smile.

"We're going together, mate. We're a team, remember?" Happy with his friend's words, the dog started to bark, swinging his tail in excitement.

"Shhh, you'll wake everybody up," he laughed. "Alright, alright, just let me grab a cup of coffee and allow me the courtesy to dress something suitable, not everyone is you, my friend," he winked at the dog, "Not everyone likes to see a grown man wearing sweatpants."

—

After their walk, Killian decided to ask Mrs. Rooney about her recovery. While they were waiting in front of the door – Killian had gently knocked three times, as usual, but it always took the old lady some time to reach the entrance – Murdock looked at him with sad puppy eyes.

"Oh come on, lad, don't give me a hard time, here. Every sleepover comes to an end," Killian shrugged but the dog didn't look convinced. As soon as the door opened, though, Murdock was all over his mom, happy to be reunited, anyways.

"Aw Murray, easy sweetheart, easy," she petted him before she looked up to Killian wearing a smile on her face.

"Good morning, Mr. Jones. How do you do, today?"

"I'm very good, thanks ma'am. And how are you? I hope you have recovered, by now?"

"Oh, I do much better, thank you very much for your concern. And I am much obliged to you for taking good care of Murray. Aren't we grateful for that, my sweetheart?" she asked the dog and Murdock barked. The old lady laughed with a ringing voice and Killian smiled.

"It was a pleasure," he nodded, hinting a little bow. "Murray wasn't a burden on me, at all," he winked at him and Mrs. Rooney laughed just once more.

"Have a nice day," Killian nodded, ready to turn around but Mrs. Rooney didn't let him leave.

"Oh no, no. You have to stay, I insist," she said, already turning around and waving with her hand while she was entering the kitchen. Killian smiled, there was no way of escaping Mrs. Rooney, especially after you had done her a favor. He closed the door behind him and went straight to the living room.

"Mr. Jones," he heard her call his name, "Please, take a seat in the library. I'm joining you in any second."

Killian was surprised, it was the first time she had allowed him to enter that room. Whenever Mrs. Rooney had invited him for tea, she had led him into the living room. He wondered what had changed her mind. When Killian opened the heavy door of the unacquainted room, he blinked in awe. The sunrays of the new day shone through the window and made the dusty air sparkle with a curtain-like mist. Hundreds and hundreds of books were lined up in endless rows, the high shelves almost touching the ceiling. There was a single armchair standing next to the window, a small brown table accompanying it. The color of the chair reminded him of a wild field of shamrocks and the texture looked soft and old. There were three books lying on the table, piled up to a little tower, and as Killian came closer to them, he noticed that two of them were books of poetry, the third and upper one, though, was a dictionary of first names. Killian reached for the book almost instantly. While he thought books were something deeply personal and reading someone's literature without their permission was nothing else than violating their privacy, he couldn't think of a reason why reading in a lexicon could be wrong at all, for there wasn't anything more neutral and pragmatic than an encyclopedia. As he skimmed it, he reached the letter "M", and Henry's question echoed in his mind.

"Murdock! Awesome name, what does it mean?"

Killian raised a brow, his curiosity growing bigger. His fingers ran over the pages, his eyes searching for the right name. And there it was, Murdock. Killian read out loud:

"Murdock, Irish, modern Gaelic form of the traditional name Murchadh which has been derived from the Gaelic elements muir, meaning "sea" and cadh, meaning "battle"; therefore it can be translated as "warrior of the sea"."

"Pretty, innit?" Mrs. Rooney asked, entering the room. She placed the server with the tea cups on the windowsill and removed the books from the table. "I chose the name for Murray so he would always remind me of home, whenever I'd look at him." Killian smiled.

"Yes, it's rather beautiful."

"Please, take a seat," the old lady suggested, putting the server on the table. Then she left again, returning with a wooden chair from her kitchen. Killian jumped up to help the woman, immediately, placing the chair right next to the table to take a seat there, himself.

"Oh, dear, please, be comfortable, sit in the armchair," Mrs. Rooney insisted.

"No, I'm fine, really," Killian smiled genuinely, "And thank you for the tea."

"You're welcome, dear. It's so nice to have some company. Please, help yourself."

"Thank you," Killian reached for his tea and one of the ginger biscuits he liked so much.

"Your library is just magnificent, Mrs. Rooney. It left me in quite a reverence, I have to admit."

"You're too kind. But yes, these books mean everything to me," Murdock barked again and Mrs. Rooney laughed, petting him, "Besides you, that is." The old woman took a moment to sip her tea and Killian noticed a spark in her eyes when she resumed to talk.

"I treasure every single one of them. When I came here, my books were everything I had. I owned only five books, back then, but I didn't get tired of reading them over and over again," she smiled, nostalgia on her lips. Five books, Killian thought, his eyes looking around the room, scanning hundreds of volumes resting in the shelves. This really did feel like a room of treasures.

"It's a great honor to be here," Killian smiled.

"Actually, I had no other choice, the living room is a huge mess," the woman laughed and Killian joined her.

After he had finished his tea, he returned to his apartment, leaving a very sad Murdock behind. Killian checked his watch and sighed. It was almost time to meet up with Henry again and he couldn't help but have an odd feeling about this child. He didn't know why he cared this much, but he couldn't let go of the thought, that there was something special about the youngster. Maybe it was his pity for the boy for he reminded him of his own youth… or perhaps it was the optimistic gleam in his eyes, whenever he talked to him. Killian couldn't tell, but he knew, at the end of the day his curiosity would win, once more. He would meet Henry, there was no escape.

—

When Killian arrived, Henry was waiting already, sitting on the same bench as the day before. When he saw Killian, he waved at him, a smile lighting up his face.

"Hey there," Killian sat down next to the boy.

"Hey! Where's Murdock?" Henry searched the park for the dog but he looked disappointed when he couldn't find him.

"I returned him to his owner. He's at home."

"Oh…" Henry's sad face made Killian smile.

"I figured out the meaning of his name, by the way."

"Cool, you did?" Killian nodded and he noticed how Henry's eyes grew bigger.

"What does it mean?"

"Warrior of the sea."

"Badass! That could be the title of a video game," he chuckled and Killian joined his smile.

"I suppose so."

"Thanks for coming." The boy's face returned serious again.

"No problem, lad. So where's this mysterious book?" Henry grabbed a brown leather bag from under his seat and revealed a big brown book. It looked very old, yet almost unused, Killian realized. The boy gave him the book, wearing an anxious look on his face and when Killian held it in his hands he read the title "Once Upon A Time". He furled his eyebrows.

"Is this a fairy tale book?"

"It's not just a fairy tale book, it's the fairy tale book."

"What do you mean?" Henry took a deep breath, he knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"Look, when I first got it, I didn't believe, either. This boy told me all these weird stories about how all of this was real and then he just left but then I met you and-"

"Wait, what does this have to do with me?"

"August said you were the key."

"The key? The key to what?"

"I don't know, that's all he said."

"August?"

"Yeah, the boy who gave me the book." Killian touched his forehead. He didn't know what he was expecting, if he was honest, but he couldn't help but smile about his own naivety. Henry was just a boy, after all, a lonely boy who sought for a friend.

"So, this August, he told you these stories were real?" Henry nodded.

"I know, it sounds crazy and I didn't wanna believe it, too, at first but then…"

"What Henry? What has changed?" Henry swallowed.

"Look, when August told me about this book, he didn't just say that these stories were real, he said that the characters were real, too. He said that they used to live here but now they're gone and he said that one day you'd find me and help us all." Killian stared at the kid's face. Every single one of his sentences was filled with sincerity. He believed in whatever that August kid had told him, so much, that it almost broke Killian's heart.

"Henry," he spoke with a soft voice, "Do you believe that you're a fairy tale character?" Henry turned his face to Killian, his eyes confident.

"No." Killian sighed with relief, the boy wasn't lost in his dreams after all.

"But you are."

"What?" Killian raised a brow, not able to hide a chuckle, "Henry, you think I'm a character from your book?" Henry nodded again.

"Then, who am I?" The boy smiled now, pleased with Killian's question.

"You're Killian, of course. Killian Jones." Henry's answer left him perplex and confused. It almost felt as if he was hit by an ice cold hand. 'How did he know this?' he asked himself, 'I never told him my last name…'

"I- I know that I'm Killian Jones," he stuttered. "But who am I in your… in your book?"

"You're also known as Captain Hook, but your character's real name's Killian Jones."

"Captain- Captain Hook, huh? Peter Pan's Captain Hook?" Killian looked at his prothesis and a cold shiver ran through his body.

"Exactly," the boy nodded, grinning now. "When I saw you waiting outside my school, I couldn't believe it at first, but then you said your name was Killian and I knew it, August had told me the truth!" Killian cleared his throat.

"Henry, look…"

"I know, it sounds crazy and insane, but please, just take the book with you and… I know you're going to believe it, once you've read it."

"Read it? These are fairy tales, how are they going to change my mind, Henry?"

The boy looked him into his deep blue eyes, wearing an encouraging smile on his lips and an optimistic sheen in his eyes.

"I believe it."

—

It had been exactly 32 minutes since Killian had arrived at home, but he was sitting on his couch, unable to move and skeptically holding the book in his hands, for two minutes less than that. Henry had given him his number and he had told him to call him, once he had finished reading the book. How did it even come this far, Killian wondered. How has he been able to mislead this young boy like this, giving him hope to believe his wishful thinking? Killian sighed, but then he finally opened the brown-covered book.

"The Miller's Daughter," he read out loud, not able to recognize the fairy tale. He skipped a few pages and then read "The Stable Boy".

"Who wrote these fairy tales?" he wondered, still unfamiliar to the stories he found in the book. But as he skimmed the pages, he found another, slightly more familiar tale.

"'Snow Falls'," he read, raising a brow, "Where are the dwarfs?" He shook his head, none of this made sense, he decided.

But just as he wanted to close the book, convinced that all of these tales were nothing but a big joke, he took notice of the picture that was drawn right next to the text page. It showed a beautiful young woman with skin as white as snow and hair as black as ebony. Killian gasped and he had to blink a few times before he could trust his own eyes. Despite the hair color, this woman resembled the blonde one from his dreams to such an extent, that it almost scared him. Killian squinted his eyes, but the picture grew more and more familiar, with every second that passed.

'This must be a coincidence,' he figured in his mind but his instincts told him to search for more. And with every page that he skipped, he felt the weirdness in his stomach grow bigger and bigger. But it wasn't until he reached "Neverland", that his heart nearly stopped beating. There he was, wearing a full navy outfit, next to a man that the book referred to as his brother. The picture looked exactly like him, there was not a single doubt about that. But how, how was this possible? Why was there a picture of him in a fairy tale book? Who was this August to own this book in the first place? Killian thought about the few people to whom he ever owed some money, but he had always paid his debts. Why would they want to mess with him now? Or maybe it was a joke from one of his co-workers again? It was possible, but way too elaborate, he figured. But what if… no, Killian shook his head, he hadn't lost his mind, just yet. There was an explanation for this and he would find it out. Yet, there was only one way. Killian grabbed his phone, dialed and waited.

"Hello, hey- yeah hi Larry, it's Killian. Yeah, thanks, I'm good, how are you? Listen- yeah, yeah I know about that, I know… I know, I'm going to take care of it, I promise. Now, listen, Larry, please. You remember the favor you still owe me? Yeah, that. I need your help.